gave this another shot


I remember when I was getting out of school, I was like, ‘If they just gave me one shot. If they gave me the one shot, oh man, I know I can do it’. Then I got my first movie and it came and it went, and I was like, ‘If they just gave me one more shot, just another shot.’ Then I started getting work, and I realized it’s not about that. It’s not about the shot. It’s about work.


Originally posted by themarvelnerd

Pairing: Steve x Reader, Bucky x Reader (Platonic), Avengers x Reader (platonic)

Warning(s): the kinda language Steve would smh at

World Count: 3827

Author’s Note: I got so into this it’s not even funny. After like, two years of not doing anything on tumblr, it isn’t surprising that i write a Steve oneshot for the first time since. But on that note, I don’t only do Steve works, please feel free to request other characters and/or fandoms: masterlist - prompt list.

Preference ★ Imagine ★ One Shot ★ Drabble

[Y/N] [Y/L/N] was an asshole.
You were an asshole.
You are an asshole.

You were slightly narcissistic with an ego as big as the tower, you were very beautiful, and the last person on earth to ever be considered shy.

That made you and Tony Stark best of pals (most of the time), and you and Steve as foes (all the time). He wasn’t rude or a jerk or at all hostile, Steve was just always on edge with you. He didn’t know whether or not your jokes were jokes (you always reverted back to slitting your enemy’s throats – Steve being a righteous guy and all, he wasn’t all that optimistic with that choice), or if you really were here to save people and not for the money the government and Tony Stark paid you — eh, what can you say, it’s very, very good money.

Humble was also not on your list of qualities.

Bold red lips, a wide grin to showcase your pearly white teeth, and heart shaped sunglasses. That was you in your room as you blasted out music at exactly 2100 hours.

You and Steve shared a floor in the Avengers tower.

Why? It was a decision that was absolutely not your choice, but you had no problem with it. Fucking with Steve was fun.

See, Tony had a whole floor to himself, same as Bruce and Vision. Nat and Clint were right below them (Clint usually at his place with Laura, though), Sam and Scott also had their own floor, Wanda and Pietro, then last but not least, Thor either in Asgard or London with Jane – which then pretty much left you and Steve together. Peter kind of lived here during the day then and back at his apartment with May during the evenings. He was a total pest.

A knock went by unnoticed by you. But an upset looking Steve did. He stalked into your (much larger) room and paused your music. He turned and gave you a look.

You raised your brow as you paused your late night dancing. You pushed your sunglasses further down your nose to peak up at the Captain. “Captain.” You greeted, nodding your head towards the brooding soldier once. “May I help you?“ You raised your perfectly sculpted brow in questioning.

Steve took a deep breath and crossed his (also very large) arms. “Your music was too loud and I’m trying to sleep. Can’t you at least keep it down?”

You snorted. “It’s barely nine o'clock, grandpa.”

Steve rolled his eyes. “I’m not a grandpa.” He grumbled with an offended frown. “Just turn it down, will you?”

You smirked and pushed your glasses back up. “Oh, I’m sorry, have I spangled your stars, grandpa?”

With a final narrowed stare, Steve twisted his Dorito-body around and stalked back to his room.

You chuckled and resumed to your midnight dancing with wine.

That was the first time you got on his nerves. It was also the first time you were on the receiving end of his very famous looks.

The second time you received a stupid look was during a mission - in the middle of combat, mind you. This stupid robot who called himself Ultron was trying to ruin everything, and apparently, it was up to you and the rest of the Avengers to stop him – or it. It’s not that you wanted to. it was kind of what Tony Stark paid you to do. And like hell would you pass up Tony Stark’s pay checks.

Steve trusted you now, at least. You only saved his ass, like, a hundred (three) times after S.H.I.E.L.D. fell and he found out his best friend from seventy years ago was still alive. A wild ride, that year was.

Anyway, you and the team were in Sokovia fighting robots.


Fuck this shit, if the money wasn’t so good you’d drop your signature double pistols and walk the opposite direction. But one, your pistols were very delicate (silver with diamonds), and you were asked very nicely to stay by Bruce - and you could never say no to Bruce.

In hindsight, the view wasn’t so bad and I guess – I guess – that saving people felt a little good (don’t tell anybody). Sokovia was so far high into the sky that you could have sworn that you could see angels flying around in the distance – some helpful angels, huh.

The sky was beautiful, though. And so was Captain America’s ass.

You beamed at the sight and turned to Steve. “Hey, Cap?” You called out, shooting a robot.

Steve grunted in acknowledgement as he kicked another robot and decapitated it with his shield. “What?” He gave you a glance that barely lasted a second.

You shot another robot. Then another. Then another. Then you turned to him. “Nice ass.”

That was look number two.

"Hey F.R.I.D.A.Y.?”

"Yes, Ms [Y/L/N]?”

"What’s your faculty on nicknames?”

"Activated by Mr Stark, Ms.”

"Huh … so, like, what are you allowed to call me?”

"Whatever you ask, Ms [Y/L/N].”

“Right, right … how about Supreme Leader [Y/L/N]?”

"Activated,  Supreme Leader [Y/L/N].”

"Huh … thanks F.R.I.D.A.Y.”

"Of course, Supreme Leader [Y/L/N].”

Of course, that didn’t go unnoticed for long. You were eating dinner with the team – something that didn’t happen often – and Steve took this time to lecture the team about a mission in a few days time. Three days, to be exact. It was located in Paris, and you were all to attend a gala crawling with HYDRA agents, mercenaries, psycho bitches, and anything else in between.

“ – so we’ll go over the plans again after dinner – ”

You groaned loudly and threw your head back. You dropped your knife loudly causing a clink made by the knife and plate. “Rogers!” You whined, “We went over this yesterday! And this morning at breakfast! And two seconds ago while I tried to enjoy my dinner in peace, fighting the urge to grab this fork and shove it through my eye – ” you ignore his wince, “and now again tomorrow?! If you even bring this stupid mission up again, I will resign.” You threatened. “Resign, you hear me. R. E. S. I. G. N.” Drama Queen is also in your list of qualities. “F.R.I.D.A.Y. tell him.” 

Natasha rolled her eyes, Sam cleared his throat, Steve still had his wince and sullen/guilty face, Clint looked bored as he played with his peas, Thor looked confused, Pietro look amused, Wanda was too busy chatting up Vision, Scott was – where was Scott? Tony had a smirk, and poor Bruce just didn’t know where to look. Peter just chewed his chicken in anticipation, looking back and forth between you and Steve for a reaction.

F.R.I.D.A.Y.’s voice rang out soon enough. “Of course, Supreme Leader [Y/L/N].” Then the AI began repeating your every word.

Natasha’s brow shot up. “Supreme Leader? Really?”

“ – And this morning at breakfast. And – ”

You shrugged your shoulders.

“ – seconds ago while I tried to enjoy my dinn – ”

Steve groaned. “That’s enough, F.R.I.D.A.Y., please stop.”

“Yes, Captain.”

You rolled your eyes. “Traitorous bitch.” You mumbled.

Cue look number three.

The fourth time you received a look was when Steve was fixing a lightbulb and he suddenly found himself on the floor. He did know you guys hired people for that kind of work, right?

Anyway, you and Pietro - bored as hell and without anything to do - you both decided to race from the ground floor of the Avengers tower, to the very top – on foot – using the staircases.

And the silver asshole was absolutely not allowed to use his powers. If he did, you had every right to shoot him in the shoulder with your trusty diamond pistols and he would have to take it like a man. He promised so, himself. “Scouts Honour.” Pietro said, saluting you.

To which Wanda replied with a snort and, “What Scouts Honour?”

You were enhanced, yes, but you were tired. Not too much, just enough not to be tired after running twenty-six flights of stairs. You and Pietro both slammed into Steve’s ladder as he fixed a lightbulb.

You didn’t even bother looking back.

You could not lose this bet.

The entire time you ran, you repeated the same thing in your head over, and over again. Run, Forrest, Run! Whatever - If Pietro won, you had to massage him whenever he felt like it for an entire month. If you won, well, he had to give you a piggy back ride whenever you felt like it. Also for a month.

Steve was really upset after that. He wouldn’t look at you for a week, and when he finally did, he gave you a long lecture about racing inside the tower. “Blah, blah, blah, someone could get seriously hurt, blah, blah, blah, if I see you two race again, blah, blah, blah.”

You leant over towards Pietro who sat beside you. He was also slouched on his chair, eyes looking at the ceiling in boredom. “Are you also feeling the urge to shove your foot up his ass?”

That was look number four.

Look number five + look number six was kind of your fault.

Steve had arrived after being gone for months. He, along with Sam, had been off around the world searching high and low for James Buchanan Barnes. You wanted to go, you really did. Despite your love for annoying the living shit out of Steve, you still cared about him more than you let on. That was not your fault. How? Well, you know the whole shebang: 

Tragic back story: check. Trust issues: check. Daddy issues: check. Issues with not being able to express how you feel without wanting to physically vomit: check.

However, it was in your job description to be able to read people. You were an intelligent person. You knew a lot, you sensed a lot, you observed a lot. You just didn’t show it a lot. And without saying anything, you knew how people felt and most importantly, what they needed.

And Steve just needed his own space – Sam excluded. You were actually kind of jealous of Sam (tell anyone, and you won’t live until the next day). Sam was kind of Steve’s boyfriend (along with dear old Buck-a-roo and Tony).

So while he was gone, you kept your distance. Steve didn’t need any more on his plate, let alone more of your shit. Whenever he called the team for a report or to simply catch up, you never said anything. You had told the crew to just inform him that you were on a mission, in the gym, or off gallivanting somewhere - anywhere, really.

Steve really cared about you though, you knew that. Every time he called he’d see if you were there. And you were. You were there, right behind the monitor that projected him along with the the camera that projected the team from your end. Your face would be resting on your hand, your elbow propped the table. You actually smiled whenever he asked about you. It was cute.

Anyway, you kind of deserved look number five.

Steve had finally arrived with Bucky by his side. Sam had already said his hellos and received his welcome-home handshakes and hugs. Steve stayed behind the Quinjet for a few short minutes before hopping off and finally introducing the famous James Barnes. 

But you didn’t know that.

And neither did Scott.

You two weren’t racing – nope. You were simply just running to get to the last slice of cake in the main kitchen. In both your defence, it was the last slice of the cake Pepper brought home from Paris. Paris. You loved Paris. And apparently, Scott did, too. If that wasn’t worth running for, what the hell was?

You distinctly remember Pepper saying that it was from Paris, and that it was the best cake she’d ever tasted.

So, without looking, you barged through the team yelling bloody murder. Scott was a little behind seen as though you’d throw whatever the hell you could at him. That last slice was yours, and ramming, pushing, throwing off the building, and threatening whoever you needed to just to that slice, you would sure as hell do it.

You felt your hip slam into a corner of a table: ignored. You tripped over a step: ignored. You felt your shoulder ram into a very strong and metal-like object: ignored. You saw a couch: ignored + jumped over.

But alas, you held in your hand … the slice.

A grin erupted on your face. Poor Scoot looked crestfallen.

“Sorry, Lang. This one’s mine.” You grinned.

A clearing of the throat made you jump. What the hell did they want? 

When you looked up, you saw the entire team + Steve + The Winter Soldier.

Well, shit.

“Oh.” You trailed off. You gave Steve a sheepish smile. “Hi, Steve, good to see you again. Did I tell you I missed you? Because I did.”

“Didn’t I tell you to stop running in the tower?” Steve stared into your [Y/E/C] eyes with his blue ones.

“No. You told said to stop racing.”

Steve didn’t reply. Instead he gave you look number five.

You chuckled nervously and stalked towards them. “Sorry.” You looked to Sam and gave him a large hug despite already giving him one earlier. Your right hand still refused to let go of the platter of cake. Then you looked towards James Buchanan Barnes.

Steve cleared his throat. “Buck, meet [Y/N] [Y/L/N]. [Y/N] [Y/L/N], meet Bucky.”

Neither of you did anything. Just kinda stared at each other in thought. He tried to read you while you tried to read him.

He was lonely.

Okay, you thought. So you reached your right hand up and gestured him to take your plate. “Here you go. Nice to meet ‘cha.” 

Steve gave you another look, only, this one was different. It looked funnier – more odd and curious. A look that you had never seen before. That was look number six.

And this time, you didn’t see anyone’s reactions. You just stared at James Buchanan Barnes, while he stared at you, to the cake, then back to you again. 

Thus, a beautiful friendship was born.

Few months later,
Look number seven.

You found yourself in this position a lot, it seems. It would be two in the morning, your head in your hands and your ears perked up.

As an agent, you were trained this way. Your mind had its own mind. Every morning at exactly one o'clock your eyes would flutter open, and without a single thought, your body would move almost mechanically. You’d get up, wash your face, then throw a hoodie over your head. Afterwards, you’d find yourself sitting on the edge of you bed, head in your hands, and your ears waiting for Bucky.

After sleeping in the same floor as Steve and Bucky, Bucky’s room was right across yours. Both your doors were so close you could stand in the hall way, spread your arms, and you’d be able to touch both your door knobs.

Insomnia was something you had as a child. It came very naturally. So, as a cure, you’d take sleeping vitamins – not pills. Though it would help you fall asleep, it was up to you to keep yourself asleep. Five hours was your maximum. If your sleep was disturbed, that’s when you would wake up every day from then on unless you trained yourself otherwise all over again. That could take days, or even weeks going up to months.

So every day, it was up to you. You didn’t want Steve waking up and losing precious sleeping hours. So instead of training yourself to sleep for five hours all over again, you allowed yourself two hours of rest every night. From then on, you’d stay awake and listen for Bucky’s screams.

Then you’d find your feet silently landing on the floor and rushing towards Bucky’s room.

Here are your steps:

  1. Lightly press a pillow on Bucky’s metal arm and cover it.
  2. Sit on his arm to keep him from attacking you.
  3. Softly say his name as many times as it takes for him to wake up.
  4. Press your body harder onto his as he thrashes around.
  5. Then hug the hell out of him and cradle his head when he wakes and begins to weep.

This would have been the one hundredth time you’ve done this. Even now, you could still remember the fourth time you had done this. You had accidentally left Bucky’s door ajar.

You were observant and smart. 

You knew Steve was there.

You guessed you just took a little longer that time to wake Buck up.

You definitely saw Steve’s look then. And again, this look was kind of different. It was a funny look that you had no idea how to read.

The fact that this look was so different, to say it irritated the hell out of you was an understatement. Out of the both of you, it was meant to be you that got under his skin.

You hated feeling this way.

Nowadays, you’ve been more confused than in control.

Back then, you saw Steve, you’d feel the urge to irritate the hell out of him. But now, you’d see Steve, and suddenly, you’d feel a funny feeling in your stomach.

So, naturally, you absolutely despised him for it. Tonight – or morning – when Bucky woke up, he didn’t cry. He just asked if you were hungry. And, naturally, you had said yes. You were always hungry.

Soft music was playing. You didn’t want to wake up Steve, after all. So you stood in the kitchen of your floor and began making pop tarts. Bucky was sitting by the kitchen island while you decided to cheer him up. While the pop tarts were cooking up, you decided to change the music to pop. Then you began dancing.

You were not a dancer. Add that to your list of non-existent qualities.

You sort of just threw your hands in the air and hoped for natural rhythm to save your dignity. 

Bucky looked somewhat amused, so that was the goal accomplished.

It all came to an end when Steve cleared his throat. He stared at Bucky in a way that made all of you uncomfortable. Bucky was going to be just fine, that’s what you thought, anyway. Steve thought otherwise. Steve treated him like a broken vase.

That’s how you and Bucky got so close. 

You refused to look or listen to any of Steve’s old war stories about Buck. Thus, why you called Bucky “James”.

He wasn’t the Bucky he was in the 40’s. And he wasn’t The Winter Soldier, either. He was someone else.

Steve’s eyes bounced from you, to Bucky, then from Bucky, to you. “[Y/N], maybe now isn’t the time to – ”

“No, Steve,” Steve’s eyes snapped towards Bucky, “it’s fine.” Bucky said quietly. “She’s actually making me happy here.” 

After that, nobody talked to a while. Bucky stood from his stool and began to walk off. 

You stepped towards him, “James - ”

He shook his head. “It’s alright [Y/N], trust me. I’ll be fine tonight. I’m gonna try and go back to sleep.”

Well, that was new.

You gave Bucky a funny look but nodded. “Okay. Call if you need me.”

Bucky didn’t say anything after that. He just walked back to his room.

Your pop tarts popped out from the toaster. After that it was left untouched.

Steve cleared his throat. “[Y/N] – ” 

You shook your head. “Nope.”

Steve’s forehead frowned. “What?”

“Do you want Bucky to get over what HYDRA did to him?” You asked. You didn’t wait for him to reply. “Well, too bad so sad, he isn’t going to get over it. Bucky needs to accept it. Then he needs to be angry. Then he needs to be sad. Then after all that, he needs to forgive himself.” You said, your hands on your waist. “And you making him feel like broken glass isn’t gonna help. It’ll confine him and make him feel crazy. Treat him like a normal person, you jackass. Let him feel like a man. Not a baby.” You took a deep breath and pulled your eyes away from his piercing blue ones. You looked at your pop tarts briefly before turning around and walking away.

And you didn’t miss his look when you did. Steve had already realised he was wrong the moment his eyes fell on the toaster.

You left your pop tarts.

Look number nine:

Again, it was in the kitchen. Bucky’s nightmares were slowly fading. Whenever he woke, you’d stay until he fell back asleep. Then you’d proceed to the kitchen and rummage for food.

“Hey, Supreme Leader.” Your head snapped towards the kitchen entrance.

You gave a nod to the blond man in acknowledgement. “Captain.” You said in a mocking soldier’s tone.

You both stood in silence for a while. You didn’t mind it for a while. Your arms were preoccupied with balancing cartons and containers of food as you boldly chewed on your Lucky Charms cereal – and then the silence just got too long. Steve stared at you with a funny look. Eh, eating cereal without milk at three in the morning wasn’t all that unusual – but for some reason, you had a really big feeling the look wasn’t about the cereal. That was actually the reason why Tony always complained about all the marshmallow gone in the morning. Not your fault. Marshmallows were the best part and everyone knew that.

You squinted your eyes as you watched him watch you. A silent growl of impatience rose to your throat. You couldn’t really speak so you opted with growling.

Still no reply.

Finally, you forcefully swallowed your marshmallow and pointed an accusing finger at Steve. His look was different again. It wasn’t annoyed or of frustration. Really it just frustrated you.

You huffed. “You’re looking at me funny.”

Steve just smiled softly. “Bucky loves you.” He said from his position by the entrance of the kitchen.

You just smirked and shoved another handful of marshmallows into your mouth. “Figured that one out a long time ago, Rogers.” Your hand reached into the box once again. “What can I say, I’m good at making friends.” 

Steve chuckled silently. Then he swallowed and looked directly into your eyes. “I love you. And not the way Bucky does.”

You swallowed. The you nodded slowly. Your heart felt so full, you had no idea what to say. And so you said the first thing that popped into your head. You said what you would say, and not stupid Nicholas Sparks movies.

“I know.” You grinned. “And I may or may not feel the same.” Before he could reply, your smile wiped off as you pointed your finger at him again accusingly, “I said maybe.”


I can’t seem to pass up a sorting quiz when I come across one online, and this one turned out to be fairly interesting. At first, I rushed through it and came up Hufflepuff - for the first time EVER. I thought, Oh, that’s interesting, because strangely, I’m one of those weird people who always comes up Gryffindor on every sorting quiz. So, I gave it another shot and paid closer attention to the questions this time, realizing that some of them were being asked in present tense form, and some were worded to include past tense. Also, the first time I took it, I was thinking more in terms of actions, and not taking into account behaviour and lifestyle. I then came up as Gryffindor - same as previous sortings from other sources. (Only the first test counted for their research.) 
What I did find interesting was the demographic breakdowns of their published results, and how they similarly reflected charts on political opinions, as well as stereotypes we have for different states in this country. There’s also a breakdown by city, which was too large to capture legibly for this post. My home town turned out to be Gryffindor, while the town I live in now is Hufflepuff - my first result.
Another eyebrow raising point is that many of my younger friends were originally sorted on Pottermore to Slytherin and years later retook the test, finding to their dismay that their house had changed, which is reflective in the age chart here.
It appears that a very small percentage of adults are actually sorted into Slytherin, and interestingly, since most people in this country are unhappier with our current government than ever before in my lifetime, I thought I’d include this:

Source: TIME Entertainment

Although they’ve already published their results, should you find yourself bored, you can still take TIME’s sorting quiz here [x]


SKETCHY BEHAVIORS | Heather Benjamin (RH)

Through her dense and detailed packed line drawings to her more focused ink brush pieces, Rhode Island based artist Heather Benjamin’s work is visceral, cathartic, and autobiographical. It offers a completely unapologetic and unflinching look into an artists’ own struggles with life, body image, self confidence, and sexuality.  We find her and her art to be inspirational, honest and badass.

We recently ran into Heather at her booth at the LA Art Book Fair and caught up with her a few months later to ask about her art, her experiences at RISD, her influences, and her thoughts about her work and her life. 

Photographs courtesy of the artist.

Keep reading


I remember when I was getting out of school, I was like, ‘If they just gave me one shot. If they gave me the one shot, oh man, I know I can do it’. Then I got my first movie and it came and it went, and I was like, ‘If they just gave me one more shot, just another shot.’ Then I started getting work, and I realized it’s not about that. It’s not about the shot. It’s about work.

The Way You Looked at Me. [Chapter Two]

Pairing: Jung Hoseok x Reader

Genre: Angst

College AU!

Word Count: 1.6K

[TEASER:SHORT] [Chapter One] [Chapter Two] [Chapter Three] [Chapter Four]

Originally posted by menacemaknae


“You loved me?”

“I guess both of us were blind. I loved you Y/N yes I did.”

“So you don’t anymore?” I gulped, I already knew the answer but I still had some pieces of hope left in me. In other words, I was in denial.

“No, like I said I loved you, it’s in the past. I could never love you again.” He added extra emphasis on the word loved. Making it clear to me that there’s no hope in him ever loving me like he did before.

Keep reading

Reggie x Reader: Looking For Love (One Shot)

(A/N: An anon requested this for like a month now and I decided to post this before I go on a lil’ break for a series I’m working on, love you x)

Plot: The one where it really wasn’t that complicated.

Originally posted by jeffatkjns

“This could be something if you let it be something, Reg!” you screamed at his face, too pissed to care when he grimaced. 


“No! Stop!” you backed away from him. This time, slowly but surely, you started breaking. Sadness started creeping in your voice, replacing the anger that has boiled in you for months now. “What … what are you so scared off?”

Reggie wanted to pull you in his arms but he knew you. He knew you more than anyone else in the world in the short six months you have been secretly “seeing” each other. If you can even call it that. So he knew it would only piss you off much further if he tried to touch you when you clearly did not want to be touched.

“I don’t know …”

Honestly, he didn’t. There you were: crazy, beautiful, and so fucking perfect but there was something – always something –  that was holding him back. Maybe it was the fact that he was never a relationship kind of guy and being faced with the probability of a serious one was scaring him so bad.

What if he fucked it up?
What if you ended up hating each other?
How much would it hurt when it ended?

Or maybe the fact that you were not the kind of girl usually goes for. He didn’t want permanent – didn’t want stable. He was used to drunken kisses, tattered memories, and awkward goodbye’s in the morning.

And that was where the two of you started. A drunken mess of a mistake.

Until you weren’t.

Until it took less and less alcohol for the two of you to start kissing, until Reggie preferred kissing the back of your neck after a long night instead of immediately going home, until (out of fucking nowhere) you were suddenly wearing his shirt and cooking him breakfast in the second kitchen of his house that he has not visited even once not until you decided you wanted pancakes at 5 in the morning after a night of sinning.

“Look, Reg,” you sighed, defeated. It scared Reggie more and more. “I like you,” you confessed, hoping your first move would spark something in him but he didn’t even look you in the eyes, didn’t even have the decency to flinch or act surprised. “I’m pretty sure you like me too from the amount of times you fucked me and …”

Reggie opened his mouth to defend himself, or to defend your pride but you beat him to it.

“I know were not just friends – I’m not fucking stupid as the whole world seems to think,” you scoffed, Veronica’s reprimanding and shrilling voice ringing in your ears. “But if you can’t be a fucking man about it then I’m wasting my time.”

You rubbed your hands in your face, not believing in the words coming out of your mouth. “We both are.”

You took your jacket that once settled at the back of a chair in his room.

“Darling, I  –“ he stood up, willing to beg to make you stay but the fire and pain in your eyes stopped him dead in his tracks.

“I am not your darling.” You glared. “Not anymore, anyway.”

It has been almost two weeks since that fateful night and Reggie could barely catch your shadow, much less talk to you.

He tried everything – well, not everything considering he could not talk to you in school (in public) because of his reputation to maintain and the fact that nobody besides Veronica knew about your little ‘thing’ with Reggie.

But he called, he texted, he crawled in your window at night hoping for nothing but a conversation where he might win you back but he knew why you wouldn’t pick up or why you wouldn’t open your bedroom window where he had crawled in so many times:

He was being selfish.

He wants you back but not really.

He doesn’t want you, he wants who you pretended to be: the cool girl who didn’t mind him disappearing in and out of his life but still stayed faithful to him even if he flirted with other girls left and right.

But you weren’t a cool girl and you can’t keep on pretending what you had was love or a relationship when hundreds of red flags have been slapping you in the face left and right.

And Reggie had to deal with it. Just like you did.

After a week, Reggie pretended not to care. He didn’t need you, so many other girls were willing to do his whims any way he wants. 

He doesn’t need you.

But he does.

He needs you because he can’t kiss another girl without vomiting every toxic drink he drank that night because their lips were too sweet, too bitter, too small, too ‘not you’.

He needs you because when he sees you walking alone towards your house he had to fight every instinct he had to scream your name and walk with you – like he always used to do.

He needs you because when you were in a house party, dressed to perfection, he nearly gave you his jacket when he saw you shiver but he remembered it was not his place anymore. So, he watched in envy as Archie did what he wanted to do.

Seeing you wearing a letterman jacket that did not have his last name behind it made something snap in Reggie that was just what he needed to do something.


“Jesus Christ Reggie, you scared me,”
you placed your hand in your heart trying to will it to slow down. The relief Reggie felt when he saw the jacket was gone was something he could not describe. But he knew what he felt was happiness when he replaced it with his own in a heartbeat.

“You’ll get cold,” he whispered, taking your hand in his (ignoring the twist in his stomach when he saw the absence of the bracelet he gave you in your third month together) in your dainty wrists.

Before you could remove the jacket or reprimand him he was already carrying you towards your car.


“I know those shoes are uncomfortable,”
he smirked, remembering the times you complained to him about those four inch stilettos but continued wearing it because it is ‘so cute’ and made you not as short when you stood next to him

“People will see …” you mumbled, your childlike grudge getting the best of you.

“Well, I don’t care.”

“Don’t you?” you challenged.

You stared at each other for a few seconds before Reggie sighed and walked towards the stairs towards the backyard where the party was held. Your protests went deaf in his ears.

“ATTENTION!” he screamed, his voice just demanding interest that your weak ‘Reggie!’ was drowned out with no effort. It was as if everyone froze when they heard the booming voice of the football captain, eyes nearly popping out of their sockets, seeing you cradled comfortably in his arms.

he screamed once again, earning cheers and whistles from his fellow teammates and other students. You swore you even saw Veronica and Kevin smiling.


That earned more cheers and laughter from everyone and you did your best to hide your red face from everyone but unfortunately (or fortunately) the only place you can hide it is from Reggie’s neck.

When you looked up, Reggie was already walking down the stairs with a smug grin in his face.

“You’re fucking crazy.” You mumbled, shaking your head.

“You wanted to go public, I want you back, it wouldn’t take a genius to figure it out,” he grinned, but heart still beating from the amount of teasing he is bound to receive on Monday. Not that he cared, not anymore, not when the girl of his dreams was biting her lips raw to stop herself from smiling.

“Took you a while …”
you whispered when Reggie set you back down just in front of his car.

“(Y/N).” He took your chin in between his thumb and pointer finger, gently making you look up at him.

God, he was so beautiful.

“This could be something if you gave it another shot.” He leaned in slowly, waiting for you to make the final move, for you to have control on what you wanted to happen. “Please?”

“I want this to be something,” you confessed, closing the last few inches in between your faces with a kiss you both deserved after a long time of being apart. You were panting, lungs trying to capture enough oxygen so you won’t pass out. “But you owe me a couple of dates as an apology.”

The smile that immediately plastered on Reggie’s face was something you wanted to be painted on the stars.

“Say you’re going to be my girlfriend and we got ourselves a deal.”

You laughed out loud, pulling him into a hug. He merely chuckled in your neck, subtly refreshing his memory of your scent.

“You drive a hard bargain, Mantle.”

“You love it.”

You smiled, playing with the silver necklace on his chest, a gift he used to hide behind his shirt. “Unfortunately, I do.” You looked up at him “Very much.”

“Thank God,” he whispered like a secret on your lips once again. You decided right then and there that nothing would be sweeter than his lips – alcohol and a subtle hint of lemon included. “Cause it would be hella awkward if you didn’t since I think I’m kinda in love with you too.”

Once again comments and ‘i-fucking-hate-you-for-making-me-feel-things’ are always appreciated!

Little Games

PAIRING: reader x steve rogers (slight reader x wanda & reader x tony)


WARNINGS: SMUT, oral smut, orgasm denial, spanking, daddy kink, unprotected sex (keep it wrapped guys) dom!steve (slight dom!reader at the end)

Well this is quite the surprise to me as well. I don’t know where this came from I just decided to write something and then this happened. This is just pure smut and teasing and I’m not even sorry whoops! 

GIF NOT MINE (that expression tho *drools*)

Originally posted by sheisraging

You were a woman of many things; you could take down a grown man with out even batting an eyelash. Stitching up a nasty wound with blood dripping down your arm, not a problem. Putting your body through physical pain with intense training schedules so that one-day, during a mission you were capable of saving lives, a walk in the park. You were a woman of many things but being ignored repeatedly was not one of them. Especially by Steve and especially when you were horny. Your relationship with the World War II super solder was complicated at best. The fact that you were both two very different people co-existing in a turbulent work environment only added fuel to the flames of whatever it was going on between the two of you. So yes naturally you fucked once, twice, three times. And again after a particularly hard training session. Sex had become something of a given between you and Steve. So when he started to ignore you and turn his attention to your other female co-workers you could feel the rage of jealousy raise it’s ugly head. 

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The Only Exception (Part 2)

Summary: AU. Reader is given the task of running a popular love advice internet show when her coworker is fired. Her cynical attitude toward love makes her offer some harsh advice, and more than a few hearts are caught in the aftermath. Will hers be one of them?

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Word Count: 3,460

Warnings: language, fluff, hot firemen, drinking, (one) sexual innuendo, sarcasm, advice-giving for sad situations

A/N: I got so mad that I accidentally deleted my effing chapter. All your lovely notes and comments are gone; I’m sorry. This is a repost. I’m not retagging.

Part - 1 - 2 - 3 -

Originally posted by closer-to-the-edge-of-glory

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prompt sent in by @elenitamiaw. I hope you like it :)


Just let me Love You

**this is suuuper self-indulgent. forgive me. LOL

“Ohmygod, hyung! Sorry, I’m late. Jongin hyung just… Wait, where is everybody?” Jimin asked belatedly, as he enetered the private dining Yoongi reserved for their group’s dinner.

Yoongi just replied with a chuckle, gulping down the shot of soju he had in his hands, not even looking at JImin. “Dispersed for various reasons.”

“I’m really sorry. I didn’t think the party would end this early. I mean, it’s only 2am,” Jimin said apologetically as he sat down on one of the pillows on the floor. “It’s just Taemin-hyung prepared a viewing party for Serendipity’s release and…”

“Ahhhh…” Yoongi cut him off. “I should’ve known other people would have the same idea.”

“You… This was for me?” Jimin asked, shock evident on his face.

Yoongi waved his arm to point towards a large projector screen set-up, taking another shot of soju right after.

“I… Hyung. I’m sorry. I didn’t…” Jimin said, moving a seat closer to Yoongi.

“Yeah… well. It wasn’t exactly your fault. I just thought it would be nice to have dinner and view your first solo MV together then watch the whole internet blow-up about it right after. I should’ve said something,” he let out another deep chuckle, still not looking at the younger man beside him. “Surpise!” Yoongi said, his tone coated with sarcasm, as he finally loooked at JImin.


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Never Have I Ever

Pairing: Sam x Reader 
Characters: Dean, Sam, Reader 
Warnings: Drunk!Reader, reference to smut, swearing
Word count: 916
Summary: The Reader, Sam, and Dean have a fun night with a little too much booze. 
Tag list: @amanda-teaches @myplaceofthingsilove @spectaculicious @bambinovak @writingthingsisdifficult @aliensdeservebetter @spnfanficpond @amanda-teaches @myplaceofthingsilove@evyiione @mogaruke@aliensdeservebetter@27bmm@craving-cas @spnfanficpond@amanda-teaches  @myplaceofthingsilove  @spectaculicious@bambinovak @bambinovak@writingthingsisdifficult@padackles2010 @mamaredd123@milkymilky-cocopuff @iwantthedean@zeppo-in-a-trenchcoat @spntrista @d-s-winchester@just-another-busy-fangirl@winchesterprincessbride@waywardjoy@supernaturalyobsessed@whywhydoyouwantmetosaymyname@sandlee44@fangirl1802@kittenofdoomage @evyiione @winchestersmut@purgatoan@mogaruke @therewillbeblood @megansescape @taste-of-dean@leatherwhiskeycoffeeplaid  @scarlet-soldier-in-an-impala@deathtonormalcy56@wildfirewinchester @notnaturalanahi@jensen-jarpad@impalaimagining@fangirlextraordinaire@itseverythingilike@jesspfly@lovekittykat21@mysteriouslyme81@mrswhozeewhatsis@aiaranradnay@supernatural-jackles@girl-next-door-writes@spnsasha@27bmm@spnfanficpond @amanda-teaches@myplaceofthingsilove@spectaculicious@bambinovak@writingthingsisdifficult@spn-imagines-to-feel@spn-ficfanatic@cleverdame@saxxxology@jensen-jarpad @keepcalmandcarryondean dancingpanda137

Originally posted by frozen-delight

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Fic update.

When I was in college, my boyfriend and I broke up. We’d been together for a few years, and the distance, amongst other things, came in between us. I remember I was eating lunch when he called me and said it was over. I didn’t bother trying not to cry. I was devastated. I was humiliated. I was just about everything you feel when the love of your life calls it quits.

We gave it another shot about a year later, and one of the hardest parts about getting back together was knowing there was a chunk of time missing between us. He’d tell me about friends he’d met or things he’d done or places he’d been, but it felt like he was retelling stories instead of getting to experience it together. I hated that I felt like I didn’t belong within that time frame; I hated that I couldn’t understand. And he felt the same way, told me he hated the way I’d grown in his absence, and he wasn’t there to witness the change.

I shut down a lot. So did he. Anytime he’d try to talk about the time we spent apart, I just felt uneasy and fucking sad. It was unwarranted, for the most part, and I struggled to keep my emotions in check. But it was like anytime we realized there were pieces of each other we didn’t understand on a personal level, it stung. A lot. That was where recovering got tricky. Awkward. One step forward, three steps back.

“We didn’t get to share that together. That’s a part of you I don’t know. I hate that there’s nothing I can do to go back and be a part of it.” - Something my ex said to me that I won’t forget, years and years later.

We never did fully recover, and eventually we realized we were completely different people than we were at the start, people who didn’t fit together anymore. We desperately wanted to mold our lives together, to make it work again. But we didn’t make it.

I wanted to write about a couple who did.

The fic is done. I plan to publish it tomorrow, if all goes according to plan x

I started by selling off my old legitimate card collection in college, a broke student fascinated by how much these little pieces of cardboard could sell for. One day, a potential customer falsely accused one of my Shivan Dragons of being a fake. It got me thinking of how easy it would be to actually fake these cards. So I went to a self-service Kinko’s and had a go at making a copy of a card I happened to own. The result looked … absolutely horrible.

So I started doing research. I learned the difference between bright white cardstock and digital cardstock paper, the different types of inks, the different options for lamination available to me. Once I’d learned all I could, I returned to the copy place and gave it another shot. The result was … again, absolutely horrible.

I needed a professional printer – and that was all I needed. 

Here are scans of two cards. One of these is a real card, and one of them is a fake that I made. I won’t tell you which one is real and which one is fake. That’s the fun of it.

My Fake ‘Magic: The Gathering’ Cards Fooled Almost Everyone

Coffee Shop Love [Part 1]

Words: 5155

Genre: Romance, Fluff, Angst 

Characters: Park Jihoon x Reader (Y/N = Your Name) 

Plot: This might sound like your typical Korean drama scenario (cue coffee prince) where a barista finds himself falling heads over heels for a customer and vice versa, or at least that is what Y/N thought. Who knew that she might actually have met her first love in a place as simple as a quiet coffee shop off the streets of Hongdae? 

A/N: Yup, I am back with another fully written one shot this time around! At first, it all started with the picture above that I had found on Instagram and a scenario just formed in my head right then and there. This took me about 3 days to write and proof read and I decided to gift this to all who have followed me despite my lack of activity or have liked and reblogged my content, despite the many other great scenario writers out there for Wanna One. :’) I shall not hold you back any further and happy reading! ^^

Warning: Side character death, Lost of a “loved” one 


“Good afternoon! Welcome to Angelinus Coffee House! What would you like to have today?” The cheerful looking teenager asked with a huge smile on his face.

Despite the cute greeting, it seemed to me that it was just not in his character to be so enthusiastic. However, I would not have asked it any other way. In fact, it was clear that he was one of the factors as to why this cafe was so popular in the area. Apart from the fact that they did have genuine coffee (as what my best friend claimed), but knowing her, there was definitely another side to the story and as far as I knew, it simply meant baristas who were, by her standards, “drop dead gorgeous”.

I did admire him for a bit, but snapped out of my reverie quick enough to focus on the menu instead and throw off some suspicion that I had been probably stared endearingly. Unfortunately, the menu encompassed a total of 5 boards, ranging from the usual coffees to teas to frappes and to smoothies. It was confusing to say the least and it did not help that there were at least 5 different types of coffees such as a Brazilian coffee, African coffee and many many more.

In fact, if one thought the variety was confusing enough, the teas were even worse. It probably had 10 times more items than the coffee menu, ranging from the traditional English Breakfast to exotics like a certain Earl Grey Lavender tea, ingredients imported from France and England.

“You seem a little confused,” the barista spoke again and I felt my cheeks getting a little warm the moment he pointed out my obvious confusion, “I’ll help you then!”

“First thing’s first, coffee or tea, or even something more on the frappes and smoothies?”

“Uh… I-I like sweet stuff so perhaps a f-frappe?”

Oh no Y/N, why the hell did you just stutter?

“Oh, that’s nice! I love frappes too! So would you prefer caffeine based ones or would you like some fruits to freshen up and spruce up the up and coming summer season?”

“Caffeine based would be good. I’m here to meet a friend to study actually and I hope that’s okay. My friend’s a regular, but she’s not here yet, so I figured that I would come in and order a drink first. For her, she would like the Vanilla Latte!”

The barista nodded his head with a smile and tapped in the order immediately with his fast and adept fingers into the cash register. I was not sure whether it was the exhausted me talking but he actually did look good when he was focused on his job.

“And for you, I have one last question for you,” He continued, making eye contact again, “Would you like something that tickles your taste buds or would you like a safe bet instead and see how the cafe fairs? You have not been here before so it’s only right if you try something that you are familiar with. We champion for comfort and satisfaction!”

I laughed at the last sentence, probably a bit too loudly, and he chuckled too with a cute smile and he looked as if he was grinning from ear to ear while his ears got redder and redder.

“Now that you mention it… Perhaps I will try the Vanilla Mocha Frappe! I just realised how much I drink those at the usual cafes so I shall have that!”

“No problem! You made an excellent choice and it’s usually the one which coffee critics come back for and oh, would you like a cake to complement your orders? Simply top up 4000 won each and you can earn yourself a cake, cupcake or even a brownie topped with some homemade artisan ice cream!”

“Thank you very much, but I think we would put that on hold first. Personally, I’m still a little stuffed from lunch…” And after I said that, I felt myself blushing once again and cringing at how much information I had spilled to this stranger of a barista. Yes, I was known to babble a whole lot but not this much to a stranger! Any more information and he would probably have known where I came from, which school I attend and probably what I wanted to be when I grow up.

“No problem! That will be 12,100won and please take a seat! I will attend to your order right away!”

And that was what I did, I paid him the exact amount and took my place at a booth seat in the corner of the cafe. I would not call it a quiet corner, considering that it was right next to a floor-to-ceiling window panel facing the street, but it was surely conducive for learning.

The sunlight was about right and perfect for Instagram pictures of food, treats and drinks. Furthermore, it had just the right music; chill with a little summer vibe to it, and it had just the right level of noise. It was not filled with endless chatter like the chains of Starbucks and Dunkin Donuts, combined with the endless whirring of the coffee machines and loud discussions of projects by both college students and businessmen. Here, they only had the latter, coupled with a few students who were either going to study or catch up with friends and should I say a visually attractive barista too?

I proceeded to take out the work that I had brought from my bag, laying it out on the table neatly, but I took notice of the barista again and this time, he was preparing my a Vanilla Latte for my friend who would be coming in later. He was already finished with my drink, to my surprise, and all that was left was the whipped cream that was said to be imported from Japan.

It was obvious that he knew what he was doing and handled the complicated machine skillfully. Based on what I had known from the Angelinus branch here in Apgujeong, they had invested in a handmade coffee machine. It had a chic and simple design with lots of different buttons and mechanisms (that I was probably bound to destroy if I was the one making them). In fact, he made the job of being a barista seem like he was also an artist, and that was also shown when he put his skills into making the perfect coffee art for my friend. To me, it was not clear what it was and all I saw was his hand moving in a smooth zig-zag motion at first, before ending off the entire demonstration with a straight line down.

Once finished with the finishing touches and the whipped cream, he placed the drinks on a tray and was ready to bring them to me before I heard an extremely loud and boisterous call, “Y/N-ah!! Wow, you sure are early. Sorry for the wait and hi Jihoon-sshi!!”

I buried my face in my hands laughing, as all the other patrons shot her looks of surprise, with some snickering, but she did not seem to bother and just walked straight for the booth seat before sliding in and taking out her stuff immediately.

“I’m sorry I took so long. There was a train delay at my place but I’m glad it wasn’t like the major one where lines 1,4 and 6 broke down. Trust me, if I wasn’t wearing these stupid shoes, I would have ran here. Hope we can get some stuff done today and have a productive one ahead. Wow, I’ve missed you and it’s been so long?? I’ve not seen you since… January? Or perhaps even Christmas?”

“Hi Y/F/N! Here are your drinks. One vanilla latte for you and one vanilla mocha frappe for you.”

That was obviously Jihoon, and he laid the drinks neatly towards the edge, so we would not have any chance to hit it away, together with some brown napkins and a straw next to mine. When we glanced at one another, he shot a smile and gave a small bow, saying, “Enjoy!” before heading back to his station and entertaining the rest of the customers with the same enthusiasm that he had greeted me with.

“Dude, could you just stop being so obvious? You’re literally shooting heart eyes at him.”

I blushed immediately at the comment and looked at my friend, only to realise that she had raised an eyebrow while shaking her head. However, her lips only curved up into a mischievous smile and said, “I know he’s adorable and let me just be really honest, he reminds me of you sometimes so hit me up if you want me to be your cupid!”

She gave a wink and I returned a glare, telling her to focus on her work instead as I turned on my laptop while she took her textbook and opened to the right page in order to attempt a History assignment (or at least that what it looked like) that she had been given. According to her, it was going to be graded and it was clearly an assignment that had probably caused her to pull her hair out at times. Then again, despite her playful tendencies, she was hardworking and incredibly intelligent so I believed that she would have no problem, if she stopped worrying.

“Alright, let’s focus, shall we? We’ll do it in blocks of 45 minutes, take a break and who knows, we might be able to purchase some cakes later too!”

After the rather productive study session, I found myself going back almost every single day. Sometimes, I did not come back just to study, but I found comfort in the ambience of the place. Jihoon was still there, skillful and attracting all the teenagers as usual, and I managed to catch some other baristas as well. There were quite a number and it was clear that they were pretty good friends and their names were Hwang Minhyun and Ong Seongwoo especially, who seemed to cater more for the college students and fresh graduates.

Sometimes, there were live music performances by the two baristas, Kim Jaehwan and Ha Sungwoon, who belted out hit after hit and it was not a surprise if all the patrons who sat there questioned why they would become baristas instead of pursuing careers to be a singer or an artiste. Apparently, Jaehwan had a couple of busking gigs in Hongdae, Ewha and Gangnam, and was pretty well known.

Indeed, it was almost like my third home when I just needed some quality me time. When I needed to study for a test the next day, discuss group projects or when I just needed to seek some comfort from all the CSAT stress, it was a perfect place to relax and unwind. Occasionally, I would nod off as I buried my head into my jacket that I had placed comfortably on the counter. Of course, there were times I felt like they were going to chase me out soon (these handsome boys definitely had peak hours) but it never happened.

In fact, when I did wake up, I would be greeted with a drink and a muffin or a cookie, depending on whether my drink was hot or cold. It could range from Americanos (which I did not like very much) to fruity, refreshing smoothies to matcha lattes to frappes or even hot chocolate. However, when it was a cold drink, there was always a note on a receipt which had my supposed order with encouraging messages and notes.

“There is no rainbow until there is a storm so hang in there!”

“I know school’s tough and it might not always go your way but keep pressing on, work hard and let’s walk through the path of flowers together.”

“H.O.P.E = Hold on, pain ends.”

Indeed, it never failed to bring me a smile to my face and sometimes the occasional giggle when the lines looked like it was something off a Tumblr dashboard. However, it baffled me on who could have given me the drink. It was impossible for me to order because I was in my beauty sleep and despite asking the baristas at the cash register, they would just shrug and shake their heads, but I did catch a glimpse of a smile once, but put it off because that would be impossible.

I tried to stay awake once to see whether this Mr Mystery Coffee Buyer would show up again, but it turned out to be different baristas whenever I went. There was no pattern and there were no repeats of the same drinks. Sometimes, it was also considered to be the “Secret Menu of the Day”, which was only meant for members of the branch. My friend had conspired all sorts of theories, including one that it might just be the baristas, but I played it off because to me, that was only a scenario which was too good to be true.

It either happened in romantic comedies, sappy Korean dramas and fanfictions. Sure, it might have been inspired from a real life encounter, especially for the writers, but it was a rare case and I surely did not want to think about any of that right now. Jihoon was only an eye candy, I would tell myself, but perhaps my body was telling me a different thing; my heart flutters when he smiles, together with the formation of butterflies in my stomach and there are times when time does not seem to matter as he puts his artistic talent in gastronomy to good use.

There was a day, however, when I had received a Chemistry test back, only to realise that I had barely passed it. I studied hard, I really did, but the results clearly did not have anything show for it. I did not cry in front of my classmates, but I sure felt like my heart had been smashed into smithereens, impossible to repair. I had wasted sleepless nights, experienced cram school programmes and even night studies, only to get such a score.

And once again, I found myself back at Angelinus Coffee. Jihoon was there, together with Minhyun, Jinyoung and Woojin. When Jihoon did wave though, I did not wave back due to the many thoughts that surrounded me. It was as if a yoke were on my shoulders and it did not help that the CSATs were a mere 3 months away.

It determined our future, our lives and where we would end up in. Friends around me were doing pretty well, scoring As and Bs and here I was, scoring Ds and Es. I did not really know what was in store for me anymore, but what I do know is that I could just use some pretty good me time; all on my own in the quaint little cafe which had grown to be a part of this difficult high school journey and I took my usual seat at the corner of the cafe, not facing the street this time around but the wall and as I placed my head onto my jacket, I could feel the tears threatening to fall and it did. There was no will in me to fight it and perhaps it would be better to let it all go.

Little did I know that I would fall asleep, and I was soon awaken by a soft tap on my shoulder. It was gentle, light and I almost did not feel it, but when the taps continued, I opened my eyes and squinted to get used to the dim light around me but I was greeted with a blanket around my body, a takeaway cup and a barista in front of me with a broom in his hand and face inches away from mine.

Yup, that was Jihoon and why would I be expecting anything different right? I nearly jumped out of my skin and I’m sure he got a shock when I woke up too.

He cleared his throat a little, before stuttering and telling me that the cafe was going to close for the night. I furrowed my brows and took a glance at the clock on the wall, only to realise that I had been sleeping for the past 5 hours, packing my stuff in a hurried manner and was about to leave with my steaming hot drink in hand and my books.

“Wait!!” A shout was heard and I turned around, only to see that Jihoon had changed out of his attire and also looked like he was ready to go home. Now that I looked at it, I could not help but chuckle a little at his quirky fashion out of his usual work attire. It was stylish in terms of the pieces that he had put together, but the colours were pretty striking to say the least. He had a pair of black sneakers with mismatched neon shoelaces, a yellow mustard shirt, black pants (the only normal thing in the outfit) and a red and white plait with some streaks of brown and grey.

“I-it’s late and I’m sorry for not waking you up earlier so that you could go home before the sun set. Don’t worry, I’ll walk you home.”

“I-it’s alright Jihoon-sshi. I’ll be fine!”

“I’m not sure how well you really know this place Y/N but it really isn’t safe. Trust me, there’s a reason why we close at 9.30pm.”

Looking at his expression, it was clear that he was serious and this was unlike the Jihoon that I knew, serving drinks and serving customers with a bright smile on his face. For some reason, I could see the slight sorrow in his eyes as he spoke, but he quickly turned away and told me to wait for him while he went to the back and packed his things.

“Let’s go!” He said in a chirpy tone once again, and he was back to the cheerful Jihoon I knew.

Once the cafe was locked up, we took a relatively quiet walk to the nearest bus station. I was walking on the side of the road initially, but Jihoon told me to switch places, saying that it was truly not a safe place around here in the night. In fact, it was clear to see why; the street lights were quite dimly lit and it was full of dark alleys which seemed to lead into nothingness and mystery. In addition, the only activity around were bars and late night eating places.

Drunken shouts and laughter could be heard in the far distance and Jihoon placed his hand on the small of my back, pushing me forward slightly. As we walked, we started to talk and I found out a little bit more about him, which was surprising to say the least.

He was a 3rd year student in the prestigious Seoul School of Performing Arts and he was apparently taking Chemistry (the same as I did), Math, Geography and Literature, while majoring in modern dance as an art form. I then proceeded to ask him how he was able to balance his work and school life, considering that he was not around only on Tuesdays and Thursdays. He further elaborated that he was surprised he could even pass the years and I found out that he was a smart and intelligent boy, only scoring As and Bs for all subjects, including his art form. He said that he liked to listen to music too (which we found out we had similar tastes in) to relieve the stress and visit the arcade occasionally during the holidays with his supposed best friend, Jinyoung.

“Which bus do you take Y/N?”

“8604! My home is about 5-6 stops away from here!” I replied.

“Oh I take the same bus! We can go home together then!”

I smiled and nodded as we continued to sit there in comfortable silence and he continued to scroll through his social media, while I sat there and did the same, responding to the encouraging messages that my friends had sent to me. It was already late, but it still managed to brighten up my day and I was probably smiling subconsciously as I read their messages and jokes that they had sent to me in order to make me laugh.

Unfortunately, there was a question nagging me at the back of my mind. When I looked at Jihoon, he had already put his phone back in his pocket and continued to admire the city lights and the night scene around him, occasionally glancing to the right to look out for the bus. He had an aura of sadness around him, like he was actually carrying an invisible weight on his shoulders.

The once comfortable atmosphere became a little tense and sad. There was no other words to describe it other than tense, awkward, some stress and sorrow.

“Hey.. You alright?” I asked and Jihoon’s shoulders jumped a little.

“Y-yeah.. I’m fine. Just thinking, you know??”

His smile was a sad one, like something that he was trying his best to keep on his face to throw off any form of thinking that he was suffering on his own. I turned away to look for the bus, before glancing worriedly at my watch. The bus was usually fast and frequent but it did not seem to be showing up at all, and it was impossible that we had missed the last bus.

“Do you want to know why I was so worried Y/N? I know you were a little uncomfortable when I had insisted on bringing you home. Trust me, I’m not a stalker.”

“I know. Don’t worry about it! I’ve just never had anyone been so insistent, and don’t worry, with a face like yours, there’s no way that I would have suspected you to be a stalker.”

Wait, why the hell did I say that?

He actually laughed at my statement, before asking in a joking tone, “You know you should never judge a book by its cover right? Now I see why I needed to accompany you home, especially when you seem to be naive and gullible.”

“I-I’m n-not.” I stuttered and I felt my face going red for the nth time that day. I did not know what was it about Jihoon, but he sure had the talent for making a girl’s heart flutter and skip a beat with his gentle and soothing voice.

“I was just kidding,” he laughed before continuing, “Anyway, all jokes aside, I feel like you deserve an explanation as to why I was so… protective back there, especially since we have not known each other very much.”

My eyes turned to face him (after I had got over my embarrassment) and gave a nod, signposting for him to continue his story and whatever he needed to tell me.

“His name was Kwonhyeop and he was my high school senior. Not only did he have a unique name, but he was also unique in terms of his personality too. We came from the same neighbourhood, went to the same school and eventually became pretty good friends. Sometimes, he was not just a close friend, but also an older brother whom I could rely on in times of need. When I needed help in my Math homework, he would help me solve them and when I needed some money for lunch, he would provide it for me, without asking for anything in return.”

“He was a smart boy, and it was pretty clear that all the teachers loved him for just being himself. Girls chased after him occasionally, but he had made it clear that he wanted to focus on his academics first before thinking about the next phase of life and where it would lead him.”

Jihoon took a deep breath, as if he was trying to control his emotions and continued, “We walked here together once, after our interview at Angelinus Coffee, where I work now. Unfortunately, who would have thought his life would have ended so shortly? We were simply walking to the nearest bus stop and we just had to bump into a bunch of drunkards who drank so much they reeked of alcohol and smoke especially.”

“They told us to watch where we were going, but we ignored them and walked faster, but it was to no avail before one of the guys grabbed Kwonhyeop all of a sudden and pulled him into the alleyway. I tried to follow and even fought with the burly men in order to attempt saving my friend. I was not strong enough, and that served as my biggest disadvantage, because the last thing I saw was a wooden plank coming straight for my head.”

And at this point, I could hear the slight sniffle and how his voice has become more airy, showing how much choked up emotions he had stored within him, “And when I woke up, I saw him sitting opposite me, but his head was down and he had obviously been beaten up into a pulp. When I stood up, the world started to spin and I felt a certain warm liquid cascade down my temples but I ignored it, more concerned for my friend who now sat beside me.”

“Indeed, he was barely breathing and had clearly suffered multiple stab wounds in his back and he also had a gaping hole in his stomach. God knows if I let out a strangled scream but someone walking past did hear me and called the relevant authorities, but everything had passed by in a blur as the passer by told me to calm down and that everything would be alright. As the time ticked by, I knew better.”

His sniffles were more obvious now and soon, Jihoon was letting out choked up sobs. He did not need to say any more because it was clear that his friend, Kwonhyeop, did not make it through the ordeal. The latter was clearly someone whom he had depended on and looked up to, but he was taken away from him in the most tragic of ways. Hence, it justified his story pretty well and I could see the fear in his eyes as he relived his memory for the sake of providing closure.

I did not know what to do, so I followed my natural instinct and grabbed his neck, putting his head on my shoulder as the tears continued to roll mercilessly down his cheeks and his breath got more and more shallow. I felt like my blazer was going to be drenched soon with his tears, but it did not matter anymore. Jihoon had protected the naive me from the cruelty of the world out there by protecting me physically, and it was only right if I did the same, except that his was to protect his vulnerability and moments of weakness; more on the emotional side.

Of course, I provided him with tissues and he took it sheepishly before apologising, saying that it must have been awkward for me to hear such a traumatising story, but I shook my head and proceeded to rub small circles into his back as a form of encouragement and comfort. It was clear that he needed someone to be there for him, but apart from his “family” of baristas, I suppose he needed someone different for a change and it was probably too personal to go around sharing with anyone without any solid reasoning.

“Oh, the bus is here.” He said, wiping the remains of his tears and flagged for the bus. I, too, did the same and we boarded the bus together, smiling at the bus driver who greeted us with a bright and cheerful smile.

And we were back again sitting in comfortable silence, but I did not realise that Jihoon had, in fact, fallen asleep; probably exhausted from crying. Suddenly, I felt something hit my shoulder with quite an impact and I turned to look, only to be faced with Jihoon’s auburn brown hair. It was weird definitely, because he was actually taller than I was when we stood up and my shoulder must have been quite a distance from his head if he wanted to sleep just like that. I adjusted my shoulders a little bit and he adjusted his head, finding the most comfortable position and rubbed his head against my shoulder.

Also, it was only then that I had noticed his “god-given” features. He had doe shaped eyes, long eyelashes, a small (and adorable) nose with heart shaped lips that seemed to be tinted with a light peach coloured lip balm. He had good skin too and it was probably as smooth as a baby, to the envy of all girls.

When they said that God was fair, I suppose it did not really apply for Jihoon, apart from his tragic past. It must have been hard for him to go through such emotional stress, but he still put on a smile and seemed like the happy-go-lucky and adorably awkward barista that the town probably knew.

I did wake him up at my stop, and he was surprised to see that he was actually sleeping on my shoulder, blushing slightly and apologising that his head must have been heavy. I shook my head, and subconsciously went to ruffle his hair and he blushed even more with his ears and cheeks becoming the colour of a cooked lobster.

He walked me home anyway and we engaged in small talk with an easy going nature. It was clear that he was finally at peace and I could not have been more thankful that he was back to the Jihoon that I knew. I would not say we were exactly friends, but we knew each other to joke around, laugh and just enjoy each other’s company. Furthermore, I suppose the fact that we were the same age really did help to get to know each other better.

“I’m home,” I said with a smile on my face, “Thank you Jihoon-sshi for bringing me home. It was great getting to know you better and thank you for the hot chocolate too.”

He only nodded and smiled while scratching the back of his neck and walked off, before asking, “Wait!! Can I…. uh… have your number?”

“S-sure,” I replied and God knew why I was still stuttering, “No problem at all!”

“Y/N-ah,” and I hummed while typing my name and my contact into his phone, “Thanks for listening to me. It’s been a long time since I opened up my feelings like that and I really appreciate it. It makes me feel a whole lot better and hopefully, I’ll see you tomorrow?”


I GOT A NEW IDEA while I was walking through a shady neighborhood (Part 1?)

Kidge Bodyguard AU w/ Shallura

  • Pidge is the daughter of Samuel Holt, famed astronaut who’s recently gone missing along with Matthew Holt, her brother.
  • She’s been looking for them for the past year, using her inherited and acquired intelligence to hack into Galra Industries, who were rumored to be linked to their disappearance.
  • One day, as Pidge is sitting on her laptop, a bullet cracks her window, immediately shattering it, and strikes her laptop, merely centimeters away from her arm.

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You're quite something - Thor Imagine

Request: Heyyy! Could you do a Thor imagine (MCU obv) where you love art, and anything creative like photography and Thor is just intrigued by the things you do and you end up showing him stuff and it gets rlly fluffy! Thank you!!!


You were no longer new at the Avengers’ tower. At least that’s what you chose to believe. You were completing your sixth month as a recrute and luckily you were getting along just fine with the other heroes.

One of them in particular was very special to you. Thor.

The god - yes, literally - was everything a girl could dream of. Tall, handsome, kind and adorable. He was still very oblivious to your crush on him, but you didn’t mind. For now, his friendship was enough.

One day, you were at the rooftop with Peter Parker. You had forced him to pose for pictures you were taking. You had loved art dearly every since you were a child, always surprising people around you with your creativity and vision. You got yourself a cover as a photographer for Starr Magazine (yes, how very Superman of you) and it was great for your job having artistic and original pictures of the city’s favorite superheroes.

Anyway, that’s precisely when Thor walked in.

“Hey, what are you guys up to?” he asked.

“A photoshoot!” Peter pretty much yelled. He was all dressed up as Spider-Man and jumping around like the dork he was. You giggled.

“A photoshoot? What is that?” Thor asked.

“How on earth can you not kno- oh, sorry, I forgot. You’re from another earth or something” Peter said.

“There’s only one earth” you corrected.

“Right. Thor is from Krypton” Peter gave it another shot.

“What the hell is a Tipton?” Thor frowned.

“Okay, boys, I think we have reached our capacities of stupid things to say” you said, jokingly. “Pete, you can go back inside and change if you’d like. Thor here is my new model”

Parker jumped from the walls to the door and in less than a second he was gone. Thor was just standing there, handsome as always, staring at you like you were some sort of puzzle he couldn’t figure out.

“What?” you asked.

“It’s just… you do the strangest things” he said.

You laughed.

“Meaning what?”

“I don’t mean to be offensive, of course” he assured. “I just- I don’t get you, that’s all. You’re an Avenger. I don’t know much about earth money, but I am certain that working for Stark leaves you very much financially stable”

“It does indeed” you nodded.

“So why do you go undercover and get yourself another job taking people’s pictures?”

You smiled.

“Don’t people like art in Asgard?”

“They do, but it’s related to things that touch our hearts, like music, dances and paintings” he replied.

“And why do you think photography can’t be art?”

Thor needed a second to think about it.

“Well, it doesn’t show your perspective. It doesn’t show your passion. It’s just a crude representation of what we already see in the world”

You showed him a tiny grin.

“Stand very still” you ordered. He did as you asked. You moved around the roof, watching the scenario through your camera’s lenses. Your body went forward and backwards while you scanned all the possible angles and lights you could use to take the best picture you could. After a minute or two, the loud click was heard. “Come see it”

Thor made his way to you, and stood silent behind your body. He leaned over your shoulder and took a look at the picture you just took. You could tell by the way his body tensed and then relaxed. He really got your point. He loved what he saw.

“That’s not a crude representation” you stated, then explained yourself. “That’s my vision of this moment. That’s how I see you right now”

Thor smiled at the camera and slowly turned his gaze to you. He stared deeply into your eyes.

“Y/N, I’m not that pretty” he joked.

“Actually, you’re prettier” you added.

“Maybe I am sort of good looking” Thor rolled his eyes and you laughed “But never as gorgeous as you are”

“Oh, come on. You’re a god. I’m a human. A comparison is definitely not fair” you pouted.

“Not fair to me, you mean. You, a mere mortal, can be ten times better looking than me”

You both had a nice time on the rooftop after that and, by the way the conversation flew, you realized your feelings towards him were mutual. Maybe it was too soon to say something, but you were sure that someday you two would make one hell of a pair.

Call of repentance || Part II

Part I

Summary: reader is a member of the Golden Path. Under Amita’s command you have to sneak to the Royal Palace to kill Pagan Min. But when you’re about to fulfill your mission, you find youself unable to – under charm of king Min, you decide to switch the path and stand by the side of the Royal Army, becoming one of the leaders.

Word Count: 2211

Warnings: strong language

A/N: Part 2 of the story.

Author: Rouge

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jupiters-alien  asked:


Wouldn’t that be sublime?!!

Dream cast time!

Megan Fox as Poison Ivy!

Originally posted by meganfoxrocksmyworld

Rihanna as Catwoman! (don’t you “as long as they don’t fuck it up like Halle Berry” me, when y’all gave Ryan Reynolds & Ben Affleck another shot without saying all white men playing these parts are gonna fuck it up again somehow)

Originally posted by rihannafenty

Emma Stone as Bat Girl!

Originally posted by deadpools-girlfriend