his-poor-family

{Final Chapter: PART 30} I Won’t Stop You // Jeon Jungkook, Vampire!AU

Originally posted by jengkook

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Genre: Vampire!AU, Fantasy, Angst, Smut

Summary; N/A.

“And in the end, he had everything he had only ever hoped of having; her, only her - for the rest of time.”

Warning: Although this chapter doesn’t have an M rating, there are some scenes of slight mature/sexual content.

This is the final chapter to this series! If you would like to read my author’s note, I have placed it at the end of this post after the chapter for those who wish to see it~ Thank you, and I hope you enjoy IWSY’s final chapter ^^

{Part 1} // {Part 29} {Final Chapter: Part 30}

Keep reading

Daveed Diggs never auditioned for Hamilton. In fact, he fell into the career-making musical smash by accident. But you don’t get halfway to an EGOT in one year without the raw talent to back it up, and Diggs has plenty. The proof? His dazzling smile and halo of curls seem to be everywhere we look these days, from our TV screens to our playlists.


But back to that accident. In 2012, the Oakland native was cobbling together a living as a performer, touring with his experimental rap group, Clipping, and substitute teaching to pay the bills. “I was living at the poverty line at this point—maybe,” he recalls. But his luck took an unexpected turn when a clerical error placed Diggs and another teacher, Anthony Veneziale, in the same Marin County classroom. Turns out they were both freestyle rappers—and like good improvisers, they leaned into the mishap and taught the class together. Diggs gave him a ride home that day, and eventually Veneziale invited him to join his freestyle rap group. Also in the group: Lin-Manuel Miranda, Hamilton‘s eventual creator and star, as well as the show’s director, Thomas Kail. Unbeknownst to Diggs, Miranda’s Pulitzer-winning opus was already in the works — and the rest is modern Broadway legend.


Kail asked Diggs to take part in a workshop of Hamilton in the summer of 2013, where he originated the dual roles of fast-rapping (like, 19-words-in-three-seconds fast) revolutionary Marquis de Lafayette and Alexander Hamilton’s swaggering political rival Thomas Jefferson. Following a wildly successful Off Broadway run, Hamilton opened on Broadway in August 2015 and snowballed into a pop culture phenomenon that won the cast a Grammy for Best Musical Theater Album, and Diggs a Tony for best featured actor in a musical.


[…]


Diggs has mixed feelings about his sudden rise. “Everyone wants to talk to you when you’re in Hamilton, which is nice, but the only thing they know is Hamilton,” he says. “That was the weird thing—to have been an artist your whole life and have nobody care, and then all of a sudden everybody cares.”


Growing up in the Bay Area, Diggs says his family was poor but “very happy.” Though his Jewish mother and black father weren’t together, they shared the responsibility of raising Diggs and his younger brother easily. “They were both very fun parents, but my dad takes his fun very seriously,” he explains. “We would get chocolate chip cheesecake for breakfast and then go to school.” It was in the fourth grade that Diggs realized he could make his classmates laugh by acting out poems. “I was very shy,” he says. “[But] I remember feeling very powerful at that moment.”


He replicated that feeling throughout high school in slam poetry competitions. “I was a good performer, so I could win with pretty subpar writing,” he says. After graduating from Brown University in 2004 with a concentration in theater, he moved back in with his mom in Oakland while auditioning for plays, working on music, and teaching. “It seems like I was doing so much, but it was just grinding,” he says. “I didn’t have another skill set.” Even his mother knew that to be true. “I tried to apply for a job as a waiter, and my mom laughed at me,” Diggs says. “She was like, ‘You can’t do that.‘”


All that grinding has paid off: He’ll appear on the big screen in Wonder later this fall alongside Julia Roberts, Owen Wilson, and Jacob Tremblay. He’ll also executive-produce The Mayor, ABC’s upcoming fall series about a struggling rapper who runs for office — and if that’s not enough, he’s set to star on TNT’s adaptation of Bong Joon-ho’s 2014 dystopian film, Snowpiercer. Oh, and he’s working on music in his spare time, too. “I’m just trying to do all the things,” he says with a laugh. “I like acting. I like rapping. And it turns out, I like producing!” But with his years of hustling not so far in his past, Diggs is realistic about Hollywood’s fickle attention span. “I know it’s rare and doesn’t always last very long, so I’m trying to soak it up while I can,” he says as he heads into rehearsal for a movie he’s not even allowed to talk about yet. “When it all comes crashing down and I’m couch surfing again, I’ll remember these times fondly.” We have a feeling he’s going to be okay.

On Hamilton and Slavery

Okay so I’ve been seeing a whole lot of screaming on my dash about Hamilton and his opinions/thoughts on slavery. In the name of making sure everyone is properly educated in their screaming, I’m going to try and dispel some of the myths surrounding this topic.

First, let’s get one thing straight: Hamilton was NOT an abolitionist. I don’t care how you look at it, he simply was not. He made deals involving slaves, he married one of the largest slave holding families in New York, and he was obsessed with raising his station in society, which meant, you guessed it, owning/renting slaves.

Many biographers, including Chernow, cite Hamilton’s impoverished childhood in the Caribbean as the basis for his supposed abolitionist tendencies. There are a number of problems with this theory. After his mother died, Hamilton and his brother James found themselves the owners of a few household slaves, but due to legal inheritance laws, they could not technically own them. The fact still remains, his family, however poor they were, they still had slaves in the house, showing that even poor whites had social and legal status above slaves. When Hamilton was working in the trading company, while he may have become disillusioned with the idea of slavery, he most likely supported the institution, simply because it was his livelihood. If he spoke out against it in any way, he could have lost his position in the company.

After Hamilton came to America and joined the war effort, he and John Laurens both supported Laurens’ idea for an all black army regiment, which is another point that biographers often use to support “Hamilton was an abolitionist”. This brings up a key point of this argument: whatever Hamilton thought of slavery, his decisions involving such were often politically motivated, not personally. He probably supported the idea of the black regiment because it was the best for America, not because he exactly wanted the slaves free. Another problem is that, according to Henry Laurens, John wouldn’t forcibly make anyone free their slaves because he believed too much in the property rights in the colonies, which also speaks more to political motivations than to personal ones. As Alexander and John were very close, it can be assumed that they shared very similar views.

Hamilton married Eliza Schuyler, a member of one of the most wealthy northern slaveholding families. Their marriage is somewhat romanticized in the musical; Hamilton most likely married Eliza as a way to move up on the social ladder, not for love. If someone was opposed to slavery as much as Hamilton is usually portrayed, he would have had serious qualms about marrying into a slave family. While it is disputed if the Hamiltons ever actually owned slaves, often, he made deals for his in-laws involving slaves, including some for Angelica and her husband, and also made slave purchases for the Continental Army. Another factor in his complacency in a slave economy was most likely his close relationship with George Washington, the owner of one of the largest plantations in the south.

After the war, Hamilton was a member and founder of the Society for the Promotion of the Manumission of Slaves in New York although society records don’t show much direct involvement in proposing anti-slavery legislation, or, indeed, much involvement at all. The society did not interfere with property rights, however, as members could still own slaves. Remember, slaves were considered property in 18th century America. As you’ll recall, Hamilton was a staunch supporter of property rights. Another probable reason for his membership in the society was the fact that it brought him close to the upper echelons of New York society. The Marquis de Lafayette praised Hamilton for his involvement in the society, but Lafayette had his own set of issues involving slavery.

Like James Madison, Hamilton supported the 3/5ths compromise in the Constitution, which allowed the southern states to count a certain fraction of their substantial slave population for their representation in the House. This compromise managed to keep the southern states in power until the Civil War. Hamilton was an elitist, thinking that the more property one owned meant their vote should count more. Because he wanted a strong national economy, Hamilton knew it was a necessary compromise in order to appease the south and get them to participate in the economy.

In the peace treaty at the end of the revolutionary war, Hamilton supported compensating the slave owners whose slaves had run behind British lines, proving, once again, his opinion on property rights outweighed whatever he thought of the institution of slavery as a whole. When the Haitian Revolution broke out in 1791, he supported the French government in lieu of the new one, but as Toussaint L'Ouverture’s government grew in power and control, he supported continued trade, so long as L'Ouverture could guarantee the safety of US property and assets.

Hamilton, as far as I know, never wrote specifically about his ideals on slavery. If he did refer to it, he was usually talking about a transaction that he carried out for someone else. His membership in the manumission society was mostly symbolic. Mostly, he was there to interact with high society. Whatever he truly thought about slavery, we’ll never know. He simply chose the stance that would most benefit him or the country, straddling the line between abolitionists and slaveholders.

Biographers often overstate Hamilton’s membership in the Manumission Society, saying that indicates staunch abolitionist tendencies, which is an exaggeration. It is important to remember when reading any biography, it will be biased in the direction of the subject. Sure, it may list faults, but it usually will not go into too much detail. In order to get a full picture of anything, look at multiple sources from opposing sides, or from sources not focused on one individual. Be educated in any argument you are involved in. It makes for a lot better a conversation.

i loved you, then i lost you {3}

a/n: al r i g ht im starting this early lets see if i can not be a disappointment (i swear to god if tumblr keeps lagging im going to go insane)


pairing: taehyung x reader

genre: fluff + angst

summary:  you watched and watched as taehyung suffered from his one-sided love, comforting him when he cried, comforting him as he threw up those fucking flower petals. it hurt you whenever he would stare lovingly into that girl’s eyes, giggling and playing with her hair. it pained you when he kept throwing up flowers, pushing the thought that his lover didn’t love him away; he was so dejected, yet he never saw how much happiness he brought to you.

Originally posted by nelliel66

Jimin accompanied you on your way home, trying to lighten up the mood. “Hey, (y/n)! Wanna get ice cream?!” He pointed at a small convenience store, his face lighting up. You looked up to where his finger pointed at, shivering. 

“It’s cold, Jimin,” you protested only to be shushed by the smaller male.

“That’s alright! I can pay, too! I got lots of money!” Jimin grinned, grabbing your hand and skipping happily into the store. He waved at the cashier, rushing over to the ice cream on display in the mini freezer. “Which one do you want?” He turned to you, the bright smile lighting up the gloomy store. 

You felt yourself smiling back, sticking your cold hands in your pockets. “The Oreo one.” 

“Oo, nice choice!” He opened the freezer door, reaching his hand inside and grabbing the Oreo ice cream, handing it to you. “I’ll just get a pint of vanilla~” He sang, grabbing his own ice cream and dragging you to the cashier. He whistled happily as he payed, grabbing two spoons from the little box provided on the counter. “Thank you!” Jimin yelled as the two of you exited the store swiftly.

“Ice cream is the best for these kinds of nights, ya know?” He whispered, opening the ice cream and sticking his spoon in. You opened the wrapper, biting down on the ice cream. 

“Shit!” You yelped, feeling a shiver run down your spine. “Fuck, I shouldn’t have bitten down with my front teeth,” 

Jimin laughed as the two of you walked, eating his own ice cream. “So..” he mumbled after a while of eating. “What’s with you and the Taehyung dude?”

You paused, staring straight forward. “W-What do you mean?”

“I mean, you seemed super uncomfortable when he came by.” Jimin explained, looking up at the house in front of him. “Is this your house?”

You nodded, clutching on the ice cream stick tightly. “Yep.” 

“Did he live here, too?”

You rushed up the stairs to your front door, walking inside and shutting the door closed. “Wait, was that too personal? I’m sorry!” Jimin whined, walking up the stairs carefully. 

“I-It’s fine, Jimin,” you yelled through the door, coughing loudly onto the ground. 

“(y/n)?! Are you alright?”

“I’m fine, just go!” You continued to yell, struggling to speak with the flowers interrupting you. The ice cream fell onto the ground as you trembled, slamming your hand on the floor. Tears fell down onto the flowers, splattering into tiny drops. You covered your mouth to muffle the hiccups, the tears streaming down your hand and chin, dropping onto the floor. “Mmf..” You murmured, curling up into a ball. 

Both you and Jimin never finished your ice cream that day.


You groaned as your phone vibrated on the wooden table next to your bed, covering your ears. “Who the fuck is calling me at this time!”

You grabbed your phone, letting out a hiss of pain at the brightness of the screen, and stared at the caller ID. ‘Unknown,’ it read. You gulped, answering the call hesitantly, putting it on speaker and clearing your throat. “Hello?”

“H-Hello? Is this (y/n)?”

“Jungkook? How- why-” You cleared your throat once again, sitting up-right in your bed. “How did you get my number and why are you calling me at six AM?”

Jungkook chuckled nervously, letting out a shaky breath. “Yoongi gave it to me.”

“Look, I only know you as a bartender,” you mumbled, rubbing your temple. “This is weird, you know that? Someone at a bar, that I was forced to go with against my will, has gotten my number and called me at six AM,”

“Wait, it’s not like a creepy thing or anything!” Jungkook argued. “I rarely have, um..normal friends, so I got excited.”

You sat there silently for a few seconds before continuing. “What do you mean, normal friends?”

Jungkook sighed. “They’re all drug addicts and alcoholics.”

You brought the phone up to your ear, taking him off speaker. “Drug addicts, not to mention also alcoholics?” A chuckled escaped your lips. “You don’t seem like the kind of man to be friends with those people, international playboy.”

Jungkook laughed. “Hey, that’s just a nickname I have. Call me Jungkook, it feels less awkward!” You laughed with him, covering your mouth to somehow silence it. After a while, Jungkook laughed quietly, sniffling. You looked up at your ceiling, laying yourself back into the comfort of your bed.

“Ahh..April, huh?” You murmured. “You got allergies?”

“Yup.” Jungkook groaned, blowing his nose. You laughed. 

“Gross.”

“Hey, it’s part of human nature, man!” He joked, putting an obnoxious accent to pair with his words.

“Still gross.”

He laughed again. “I have to go. Have a nice day, (y/n).”

You let out a sigh of satisfaction. “Yep. Hope you have a nice day too, playboy Jungkook.”

“Hey, it’s Jungkook!” He grumbled, hanging up the call. You threw your phone onto your bed, standing up and stretching your arms. You did the usual routine you did everyday, combing your hair slowly. 

Cursing at the knots in your hair, you checked your side of your head to hide the small mishap in your hair. “God, I need to cut my hair soon,” is what you always said, but was too scared to do so. You sprinted downstairs, glancing at the clock. You were skipping college classes. That wouldn’t be such a problem, right? You shrugged, grabbing a granola bar and walking out your front door.

You walked around the street in your neighborhood, munching quietly on your breakfast. Not many people were up and about this early in the morning, they themselves also not good with mornings from your observations. “Hey, (y/n)!” A strong voice echoed from behind, making your turn behind with the granola bar in your mouth. 

“Hmf?” You took the bar out, staring at Yoongi panting with his hands on his knees. 

“Fuck, you walk too fast..” He groaned, walking over to you with quick breaths. “I can’t keep up.”

You giggled, breaking the granola bar in half and handing a piece to Yoongi. “What are you doing here this early, grandpa?”

“I am not a grandpa,” he scoffed. “And I could say the same about you.”

“I asked you first.”

He stuck the granola bar in his mouth, shrugging and pointing at his stuffed cheeks. “Canft talg.” 

You rolled your eyes, crossing the street and patting down your hair. “No, seriously, why are you here? I didn’t tell you where I was going and I don’t remember us making any plans.”

Yoongi gulped down the rest of the bar, wiping his mouth. “Jungkook kept bothering me to give him your number. I couldn’t go back to sleep.” You chuckled. “Did he actually call you?”

“Yeah.”

He cursed loudly, jumping himself up onto the edge of the sidewalk. “That kid, I swear to god if he wakes me up one more time-”

You paused. “..Wait, was he in your house?”

Yoongi froze, scratching the back of his neck. “Yeah. He would’ve gone with his friends if I didn’t bring him.” he shrugged. “It’s the normal.”

“Must be hard for him, huh?” You murmured as the two of you reached a small cafe. You read the large letters on the front. “Rose D’or,” you read, grabbing Yoongi’s arm. “Wanna sit?” He nodded, sitting down across from you. 

“The kid has a really messed up past, you know.” Yoongi spoke, leaning back in his chair. You cocked an eyebrow, staring at him with interest.

“Really? All I know is that he has weird friends.” Yoongi shrugged. You continued, “Can you tell me more?”

He tilted his head. “I can. But if something happens because you did something or said something about his past, I’m not part of this.”

“Deal.”

Yoongi sat up, shoving his hands in his pockets. “Jungkook’s parents weren’t really that bad. They just fought a lot and..the fights were intense.” He gripped his hand around the arm rest of the chair. “He told me that they’d throw stuff everywhere, then have sex later,” he chuckled softly. “His family was poor, too. Mother was a prostitute to earn money, no one knows what the dad did. Dad left not a long time after Jungkook got into middle school.” You tightened the grip on your knees, biting down on the inside of your cheek. Yoongi furrowed his eyebrows. “His mother got fucked up after that. She wasn’t great with people leaving her. She went all..psycho and did fucked up shit.” His eyes followed a man walking into the cafe, wetting his lips with his tongue. 

“She started getting abusive until Jungkook found out about me in high school.” 

You blinked. “Wait, high school? Weren’t we friends at that time?”

“I didn’t wanna tell you. He was super shy at that time, too.” He continued, “Anyways, he somehow became friends with those..people. I don’t know how he got to know them, but he almost got cuffed up by being with them during their weird acts.” He rolled his eyes. “Those people are obnoxious as fuck, not to mention sneaky.”

You waited for him to finish, surprised when he didn’t. “That’s it?”

Yoongi shrugged. “Jungkook’s really closed up about his past. That’s all I got, (y/n).” He took his phone out, checking the time. “It’s 8 AM. Don’t you have classes?”

“Don’t you have them too?” You retorted, smiling evilly at him. He rolled his eyes, shoving his phone back in his pocket. 

“Hey, I’m only skipping because I have a good reason. You’re the goody two-shoes whatever kind of kid.”

“I am not a kid!” You grumbled, crossing your arms and turning your head away. 

“You only prove my point more by doing that,” he laughed, raising his hand to let a waiter bring the two of you menus. 

“Oh? Was my granola bar not enough?” You asked as the waiter brought two menus, opening it up and scanning the items. Yoongi groaned, ignoring your question. 

“Shit, never knew a cafe had so many food selections..” he murmured quietly, his eyes darting from item to item. You smiled at his reaction, glad he was starting up his normal eating routine. Yoongi was a fairly skinny boy, but his legs were stick thin when you first met him in high school. Of course he ate healthy, but you were still genuinely worried he only ate when near you so he wouldn’t have to deal with anything. You shrugged, realizing you were over-thinking. 

After a few minutes, the two of you ordered your food; you ordered a croissant and he ordered pancakes. The waiter grabbed your menus and handed the two of you cups of waters, nodding and walking away into the cafe. Yoongi sat there silently, playing with his thumbs. “You know,” He said abruptly, catching your attention. “We were really worried for you back there in the club.” 

Your facial expression darkened. “Not now, Yoongi.”

He shook his head. “I’m serious. Why did you suddenly stand up like that? The two of you could have just talked it out, you know.” 

“Yoongi, this isn’t the time.” You whispered, glaring at him. “I don’t want to even remember him.”

Yoongi opened his mouth to talk back, but only closed it when the waiter brought over the food. He sighed, “Fine.” He grabbed the knife and began to cut into the pancakes while you took a bite out of the croissant. 

“Anyways!” He ate a piece of the pancake, looking up at you. “Did you get to meet Jimin well enough? He said he ate ice cream with you.” He chuckled at the thought. “He’s like a little kid.”

You took another bite, raising your shoulders up and down. “I guess.” You shot a curious glance at him. “You really do get..acquainted with weird people.”

He paused, staring up at you. “What do you mean?”

“Jimin seems like..rich, Jungkook is just out there..” you chuckled. “It’s weird.”

Yoongi snorted, taking a sip of water. “Are you saying I’m not supposed to have friends?”

You shook your head. “Nah, that’s not what I’m saying. I’m saying that you seem unique with the two.” 

The two of you ate while chattering about random things - college, friends, all that. You laughed at Yoongi complaining about how annoying everything was, feeling the life come back to your world.


June 20th, Saturday, 1 PM in the afternoon. Yoongi showed up at your door, knocking on it loudly. “Let me in, (y/n)!”

You opened the door with a slam, staring at him with a glare.  “What?”

Taken aback, Yoongi sighed. “Taehyung’s wedding is today.” You froze. “Come on, you can get over this.”

Your eyes wandered over to your phone, checking the date again. “Why should I? He doesn’t want to see me, I wouldn’t want to see me either.”

“Cut the bullshit, (y/n).” He grabbed your shoulders, shaking your roughly. “You were just happy yesterday. Get dressed and lets go.”

“No.” You mumbled, still dazed from being woken up early and allowing your hair to fall in front of your face.

“You’re really making me do this,” he groaned, grabbing your arm and dragging you upstairs to your room. He went inside your closet after setting you on your bed, looking for an outfit for you to wear. It almost made you laugh at how frustrated he was. “Do you not have anything good to wear?!”

“I don’t get dresses, they’re uncomfortable.” You finally said, somehow relaxing at his frustration. Yoongi glared at you, annoyed that you were satisfied at how much he tried to find a dress.

“You’re a pain in the ass.” He pulled out a light, flowery blouse and jeans. “Wear it, lets go.” He threw the clothes at you and slammed the door closed, waiting for you outside your door.

You stared down at the clothes. It had been exactly three months since the incident with Taehyung happened. Your sickness had gotten worse, and you felt weaker, less energetic. “I’m not going,” you whispered to yourself.

“Hurry the fuck up!” Yoongi complained outside the door, knocking on it once.

The numbers on your phone signaled the time as it changed. 1:03. You let out a small sigh before slipping into the clothes. As you changed into the jeans, memories flashed in your mind. It had been three months since the fight with Taehyung, and neither of you had talked to each other since then. Jungkook and you became friends, along with Jimin. You zipped yourself up, not bothering with makeup and combing your hands in your tangled hair. 

Swinging the door open, Yoongi yelled in surprise. “For fuck’s sake,” he grabbed your arm. “It’s starting in thirty minutes. Lets go.”

The car ride to the wedding was silent, the two of you focused on the road ahead of you. “Why am I going again? I’m sure Taehyung hates me.”

“Don’t say that.” Yoongi tightened his grip on the steering wheel. “He got over it. Probably.” He turned the steering wheel to the left, parking the car in a small space between two large ones. Unbuckling his seat belt, he nodded at you. “Lets go.”

You kicked the floor of the car, unbuckling yourself as well and got out the car. The building was large and tall, balloons surrounding the opening. “Congratulations, Love Birds!” The banners hung above the doors. You stared at it before being dragged inside by Yoongi, shoving past other guests. “Hey! (y/n)!” A familiar voice ringed in your voice, putting a hand on your shoulder. Yoongi halted, letting out a ‘tch’ sound. 

You turned around to meet Jungkook, his hair slicked back and eyes wide. “Hey! I didn’t know you’d be here!”

“I didn’t want to be here.”

He glanced at Yoongi, faltering and nodding in apology. “Oops..sorry, Yoongi! I just finally found another person I knew!”

“It’s fine, kid. I have to take (y/n) to someone, though.”

Jungkook raised an eyebrow, turning his gaze towards you. “Oh..okay. Be careful.” He smiled, waving at the two of you as you walked away.

Yoongi barged into a room around a corner, clutching your arm tightly. “Ow.” You muttered, struggling to move your arm away. 

“Yoongi!” A woman’s voice shouted loudly, making your cringe. You looked up, staring at the groom and bride smiling at Yoongi. Not at you, Yoongi.

“Hi.” He grumbled, letting go of your arm. Your eyes meet with the groom’s, identifying them as Taehyung’s. The rest of the guests in the room continued chattering, keeping their voices low. “Talk to him at least, kid.”

“I’m not talking to him. I’m going back to find Jungkook.” You hissed, glaring at Yoongi. “He’s the only one who seems to allow me to have freedom.”

“(y/n)!” Taehyung’s cheery voice rang in your head, causing you to freeze up. You stared at him. “Hey! Come over here, at least!” He motioned for you to come over, his smile glowing upon his skin. Yoongi pushed your forward, murmuring in your ear. 

“Just do it, (y/n). It’ll be fine. I’m gonna wait outside.” He left the room, leaving you there, stuck in your spot with widened eyes. Suha smirked, walking over to you and looping her arm with yours. 

“Hey, Taehyung wants you to come over, lets talk!” She giggled, dragging you towards Taehyung. You struggled, trying to get her grip off of your arm without causing a commotion. You stumbled over a shoe, leaning forward and gritting your teeth together. Suha let out a quiet laugh, pulling you back up and bringing you to Taehyung.

“I’ll let you two talk. I need to go talk to daddy.”

Suha left the room, leaving you and Taehyung together. You felt relieved other people were in the room as well, but their chatter dialed down and only a few whispers came out and drifted about. You felt your heart flutter when Taehyung took your hand, fingering his hands through your hair. “You look different. Did you loose weight?”

You stayed silent, staring down at the floor. ‘I didn’t want you to get married. I didn’t want you to leave me, why did you do it? I can’t function anymore. You’re gonna go away. You’re leaving. Why?’ you thought to yourself, not gathering the courage to say those words. He sighed, letting his hand fall from your hair, the one gripping your hand still holding on tight. “You have to eat. It’s bad for you if you don’t, and I’ll spank you if you refuse.” He pulled on your cheek, surprised when he struggled. “Did you not put makeup on?”

“Yoongi dragged me here.” You whispered, taking your hand out his grip and shoving it in your pocket. The rest of the guests shuffled out the room, shutting it softly. “I didn’t want to come.”

Taehyung let out a small laugh, adjusting his sleeves. “I should’ve expected that, I guess.”

You raised your hand to your mouth, biting down on your thumb. You gnawed on it before Taehyung forced you to stop, eyes wide. “What are you doing? You’re bleeding!” Your eyes trailed down to your hand, noticing the blood trailing down your wrist. 

“Oh, shit.” You jerked your hand away, wiping the blood away from your thumb. “It’s a habit.”

Taehyung stared at you while shaking his head, turning around to face his back towards you. “You know, I really regret having that fight at the club.” 

“You didn’t seem so sorry when you didn’t bother to call me.”

“I thought you’d call back, even if I didn’t have you number, you always used to do that.” You scoffed, shoving your injured hand in your pocket as well and turning away. “I don’t even know why I’m here. I’m going to go to Jungkook.”

Taehyung grabbed your arm, pulling you back. “Stay here for a while, it won’t hurt!” He pressed, smiling brightly.

“Why should I?” You grumbled, pulling your arm away. “Why would I watch you get married to a slut?”

His fists trembled as they clenched into a tight fist, a small smirk forming upon your lips. “Hurts, doesn’t it? Reality does really fucking suck.” You turned around to face the door, grabbing the door knob and leaving Taehyung in the room alone. 

You stumbled into Yoongi on your way out, letting out a small “oh.” Yoongi stared down at you and dragged you up. “How did it go?” He asked quickly, glancing at the room. “You guys took a lot less time than I thought you would.”

“Yoongi, can’t we just go already?” You whined, crossing your arms. “I have nothing to do with these two.”

“Yes, yes you do.” He snapped, leaning against the wall. “You’ve been friends with him for years now, (y/n). Don’t do this to them over a small fight.”

“Small fight?!” You raised your voice, unaware of the stares you were causing the two of you to get from the others. “Yoongi, he’s about to get married to a prissy princess who just likes sex! Does no one fucking believe me?!” You wrapped your hand around his collar, staring him dead in the eye. “I’ll say it again. I have nothing to do with them.”

“So, you’ll just act like Taehyung was nothing to you?” 

“Correct.”

Yoongi smirked. “Then I don’t know you either.”

You faltered, your grip loosening on his collar. “Excuse me?”

He moved your arm away. “Taehyung was the one who introduced me to you, anyways. So if you just want to discard all the shit you’ve been through with him, I’ll make sure I can’t contact you at all. In fact, I’ll just move.” You felt your stomach churn as sweat dripped down your face. 

“You wouldn’t do that, Yoongi,” you said shakily, “I know you wouldn’t. Why are you doing this to me?”

Yoongi growled at you angrily, “You’re acting like a bitch at his wedding. Do you know how much he’s been yearning to find the love of his life? He’s having this great party right now, but here you are, acting up like a child!”

“I am not acting like a child!” You gasped. “You’re the one who brought me here, anyways! If I had a choice, I wouldn’t be here, you little sh-”

“You came here yourself. I never forced you.” He glared at you. 

Plus, you still love Taehyung.

You fell silent and lowered your head. “I do not.”

“You do.”

“I don’t fucking love him!” You screamed, tears dripping down your face. Yoongi blinked twice, standing up correctly with wide eyes. “For fuck’s sake, Yoongi!” You cried, wiping at your eyes furiously. “I thought you would help me with this, you know. But now, here I am, acting like a child, as you said!”

“Shit, I didn’t-”

“Oh, yes you did.” You interrupted, gritting your teeth together. “Don’t put all that on me this time. You meant every word you said that came out your mouth.”

“(y/n), calm down, people are staring..”

You slammed your fist on the wall. “Is that all you care about, people staring?! Not helping your friend crying, who’s suffering, everything?!”

Yoongi raised his hand, the sound of his hand and your cheek colliding echoing throughout the hallway. Everyone froze in surprise, some covering their mouths and some murmuring to their friends. Your head stayed in the position where Yoongi slapped you, lip trembling. The stinging sensation spread throughout your body, sending shivers down your back. You put your hand to your cheek, not bothering to wipe your eyes. “I think I’m gonna go now.” You muttered, turning away. 

“Wait, I’m sorry, I don’t know what got into me-” You raised your hand to stop him, shaking your head. 

“No, really, I should have gotten hit. You can run me over with your car too, you know. Would take me out of my misery faster.”

“(y/n), you’re thinking about that way too fast!” Yoongi rushed to your side, hesitant to touch your shoulder. You stumbled, letting out a loud cough into your hand. Both you and Yoongi stared at the flowers falling out your mouth, letting them flutter onto the ground. The guests stared in horror, as well as awe, at the flowers coming out your mouth. 

“Shit!” Yoongi glared at the others, taking off his jacket and wrapping it around you. “We’ll deal with this later. Get in the restroom.” He ushered you to the bathroom, closing the door after you entered. You threw his jacket off, quick to go to the toilet and throw up. 

“S-Shi-” God, your condition was really getting worse. You felt as if you were suffocating, that damned disease. If only it didn’t exist, if only you hadn’t loved Taehyung - you’d be free. Free, free like all the other people. You gripped the handle of the drawer in the sink next to you, coughing loudly and painfully while trying to keep your hand on the handle. Your palms became sweaty, sweat ran down your face, and your body lost it’s energy. 

The flowers continued to flow down and down, the horrendous sound paired along with your choked sobs. You smiled at yourself shakily, wondering how embarrassing it was to be with you. Ruining a wedding, friendship, what else was there for you to ruin?

You calmed down after a steady hour, flushing the flowers down and washing both your hands and face. Your knees knocked together while you bent down to pick up Yoongi’s jacket, opening the door. He grabbed your shoulders as you fell down, all energy that was once in your body now gone. “I guess I really shouldn’t have brought you here..Jungkook, stop, she’s not feeling well..no, I swear to god, don’t touch..it’s nothing bad…” The voices floated around your head, drifting in and out of consciousness, only to be jerked up again when a blast of pain shot through your head once in a while.

“(y/n)? Can you hear me?” Jungkook’s voice whispered near your ear. You felt his hand comb through your hair, reassuring you that you were fine. “The ceremony already started. No one’s here. It’s okay if you leave, we’ll come with you. Sleep for now, okay?” Hands gripped around your arms, helping you out the door. “Yoongi, hurry up, I think people are starting to notice..”

“Shush, I’m trying.” Yoongi hissed, opening up the car to the back seat and carefully placing you on the seats. “Get in, Jungkook.” 

“What? But then who’ll tell them that-”

“No one needs to know, Jungkook. That’ll make things worse.” He murmured, getting in the driver’s seat and revving up the engine. Jungkook quickly jumped into the passenger’s seat, closing the door shut. You struggled to keep your eyes open, your surroundings slowly becoming pitch black.


“(y/n)!!”

“Shut up, that’ll wake her up!”

“But that’s what we want her to do, don’t we?”

“You little-”

“HER FINGER MOVED.”

“Shhh!”

You open your eyes slowly, blinking twice to refocus your vision. You stared at the people around you, squinting your eyes to try to make out who they were. “..Jin?”

Jin looked up at you from his clipboard, letting out a sigh of relief. “Oh, thank god you woke up.” He pointed at Jungkook and Jimin, rolling his eyes. “The two thought you were going to die.”

“No! It’s called worrying for a friend, Jin!” Jimin whined, shooting you an awkward smile. 

You moved your hand around on the unfamiliar material underneath your body, sitting up slowly. Looking around, you sucked in your breath. “Am I in a hospital?”

“Since you see me, duh.” Jin scribbled onto the paper on his clipboard, glancing at the boys. “Never knew you had such weird friends.”

“Excus-”

“Shush.”

You smiled. “Can someone explain why I’m here, though?” 

Yoongi leaned against the wall, raising his eyebrow. “You fainted when we were driving you to your house.” He rubbed his temple, furrowing his eyebrows. “I still think I’m deaf from Jungkook crying.”

“I really thought you died, (y/n)!” Jungkook whimpered, placing his hand on your shoulder. 

“Anyways-”

You cleared your throat loudly, glaring at everyone around you. “So, you brought me here because I fainted? That’s it?”

Jin blinked, adjusting his glasses. “Uh..yeah.”

You groaned, stretching your arms. “I didn’t need to be escorted to the hospital, I’m fine.”

“No, you’re not.” Yoongi pushed you back down onto the bed and stared at Jimin and Jungkook. “Can you guys wait outside for a sec? We need to talk.”

Jimin glanced at you with a worried expression, grabbing Jungkook’s arm and nodding at Yoongi. “Don’t die!” Jin started to turn around to leave as well before Yoongi grabbed his arm. 

“You stay here.”

Jin removed his arm from Yoongi’s grip, setting his clipboard down. “Okay, what do we need now?”

“Get (y/n) the surgery.” 

Your eyes widened as you sat up, staring at Yoongi. “Are you crazy?! Why are you deciding this for me?!” 

Yoongi stared down at you, running his hand through his messy hair. “It’s for the best. You’ll die soon if you don’t.”

“That isn’t for you to decide, Yoongi!” You argued, grabbing his arm desperately. 

Jin sighed, pushing up the rim of his glasses. “He’s right, (y/n). The disease is serious.” He pushed his hair back, staring at you. “The surgery is pretty much the only option you have left.”

You bit down on your lip, tossing the bed sheets aside and stood up. Your knees failed on you, trembling and slamming down onto the ground. Yoongi bent down to help you up, but you shook your head at him.  “No,” you whispered. “I’m not gonna get that damned surgery. If I wanna die, I will. I’ll do it without hesitation.” You shot your head up at the two boys, struggling to get up. 

“Are you seriously going to do this?” Yoongi said harshly, his hands clenching into tight fists. “I’m doing the best I can to help you yet all you do is say ‘no, I won’t.’ This is all about Taehyung.” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Why can’t you realize how stubborn you’re being with us? Taehyung got over it, you should too.” 

“He’s not over it. He never will get over it.” You snapped, forcing yourself to get up. “He’s not cured yet.” 

Yoongi shot his hands up in the air, eyes going wild. “Are you listening to yourself right now?! You’re saying Taehyung won’t be cured, you’re worried about him, worry about yourself god damn it!” He raised his fist as it slammed into the wall, startling both you and Jin. 

“Yoongi..” You murmured quietly.

“Leave me alone.” He whispered as tiny droplets of blood dripped down his fist. 

“You have to-”

“Get the fuck out!” Yoongi yelled, turning to face you with his fiery eyes. You stared at him with horror, backing up and quickly walking out the room, shutting the door closed behind you. You flinched at Jin’s desperate attempts to calm Yoongi down, looking up at Jimin creeping behind the corner.

“Is Yoongi okay?” He asked softly, his slender fingers wrapped around the edge. “He’s yelling pretty loudly..”

“He’s fine.” You sighed, shaking your head again. “Stay here. I’m going home.”

The two boys stared at you with confused expressions before Jungkook gabbed your arm. “Wait, aren’t you supposed to stay inside?”

“I’m fine. All I did was faint.”

He looked at you with sincere worry. “Yeah, but..you looked really pale when you got into the car. You couldn’t even talk, or even walk!”

Jimin stared at you with surprise written all over his face, obviously confused. You shook Jungkook’s hand off your arm, shooting a glare at him. “I said I’m fine and I’m going home.” His hand grabbed your arm again, and you opened your mouth to tell him off again - but there he was, tears falling down his cheeks. His lips trembled, his shoulders bounced up and down. 

“A-Are you really okay?” He whimpered again, hiccuping between his words. 

“Hey, hey..why are you crying? You haven’t done anything,” you talked quickly, unsure what to do in this situation. Jimin rushed over to Jungkook’s side, eyes wide and hand wiping his tears away. 

His hand fell from your arm as his weight fell into Jimin’s arms, sobbing quietly into his shoulder. You watched in surprise, backing up once again. Jimin stared at you with confusion, his hand combing through Jungkook’s hair. You pushed yourself out the doors, walking away quickly. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” You cursed at yourself, keeping your head low. Why was everyone having such a big reaction? This was your problem. This was your life. Why were people being hurt instead of you? Yoongi was becoming frustrated, people are crying because of you. You found your way back home quickly, opening the door to your house and slamming it closed. 

You laid there in front of the door for hours, just thinking. Thinking how you’d escape. How’d you escape from this hell you were forced to live in - you could move. You could just avoid everyone. You could simply just kill yourself. 

You took a moment to think again. What the fuck were you thinking? Killing yourself? Both sides of your mind fought against each other - die, move, die, move, die, move. But then one small idea popped in your mind.

Forgive.

You could just forgive Taehyung. It would be that simply, right? This would all be over. All this would end. Relief washed over you until one small problem broke in. 

That damned disease.

It would and will not go away. It will stay there for the rest of your life unless you finally get the surgery. You will not get that surgery. You will not, you will not, you will not; you will not.

It was until then the tears came. Your hand stayed on your chest, your left arm extended out on the left of you. The tears rolled down your cheeks, down your chin, and onto the ground. It made you chuckle - could the amount of tears you cried make an ocean where you could just sail away?


9 PM. You had gotten up and slept on the couch to try to escape your burdens. Loud knocks banged on the door, awakening you. You slowly got up from the couch, opening the door without a care. 

Taehyung stood there, still in his tuxedo. His hair was slicked back and his smile was big.

“(y/n),” he said, surprised you opened the door. You took a step back, quick to force the door closed. Taehyung blocked the door from fully closing, pushing his body weight onto the door. 

“Get out,” you cried, struggling to close the door shut. “Stop coming here!”

Taehyung’s strength was far more superior than yours, easily forcing the door open. You stumbled back, your body still not fully energized to it’s maximum. You wiped your tears away angrily, stepping back once again. “(y/n),” Taehyung repeated, his voice now softer. “I heard what happened.”

You froze, your hand stopping mid-way. “Yoongi told me you fainted.” He stared down at the ground. “Why didn’t you tell me you were sick?”

“I’m not sick.” You whispered. 

“Why did you faint then?” 

“It’s nothing, alright?! Get out!” You screamed at him, pushing him away. He clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth, slapping your hands away.

“What’s wrong with you these past days?” He asked, keeping his posture. 

“You married a girl. You’re leaving me. You’re making me suffer even more.” You trembled, staring up at him with teary eyes. “You don’t realize how much I’m hurting because of the decisions you’re making.” You turned on your heel and raced upstairs. “That’s why I’ll be taking my leave.”

Taehyung ran up behind you, watching you in terror as you rummaged through your closet. pulling out a small suitcase. “You’re kidding,” he gasped, trying to stop you. “Are you serious?! What are you doing? Why are you packing up?!”

You grabbed as many items as you could, zipping up your suit case. “I can’t stay here, Taehyung.” You extended your arm to the window, tightening your grip on the suitcase handle. “Do you know how much trouble I’ve caused?! And to top it all off, don’t even get me started with you.” Taehyung bit down on his lip as you shoved past him, grabbing your phone to call a taxi. 

Taehyung pleaded with you, trying to bring you back into the house. You ignored him as tears dripped down onto the ground, opening the door and stepping outside. The taxi arrived shortly, beeping loudly. 

You opened the backseat door, struggling to get inside from aehyung pulling you back. “Don’t go!” He cried, clinging onto your arm. “Why are you leaving us all?! Stay!” 

You took one look at his ring on his ring finger, grabbing his hand and taking it off. “I fucking love you.” You breathed. “I have the Hanahaki Disease and I’ll die.” You threw the ring to the ground, lowering yourself down into the backseat and slamming the door shut. You locked the door and told the driver to take you to the airport. Taehyung banged on the window, his screams muffled from the barrier. You hugged your knees as the taxi drove off, Taehyung’s yells become weaker and weaker until they no longer were able to be heard. 


a/n: honestly i was going to make more plot in between this situation but i think i have a steady idea of how the story will go for now on 

Golden

Angel!Bucky x Nephilim!Reader

Summary: In a world segregated by angelic powers; can a nephilim be more than they seem? Can an angel-born, be more than they’d always thought?

This is my submission for @angryschnauzer “If you go down to the woods today” writing challenge. I’ve not really done much in the AU arena, so here goes nothing!

Word Count: 2697

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of torture and death, mentions of blood, happy ending

A/N: Thank you to @writingwithadinosaur, who is always willing to help me. Even when I am unsure of myself, she is right there to reassure me, and help me out. She is a lovely person, and a fab writer!

Originally posted by coporolight

The cuts on your hands were bleeding badly, but you didn’t dare take a moment to look at them; the being in front of you commanded your attention. As a nephilim, a child of angelic and human parents, you were below the angel in front of you; a fact that he never let you forget. You had no wings, therefore the power you wielded was weaker. You should have felt lucky, many nephilim were born powerless, no better than long-lived humans. But your power was the reason you were stood where you were; the reason for so much of your pain.

After the angel dismissed you, you quickly made your way down to the kitchens. The manor where you lived and worked had segregated places; places for the angels and places for everyone else. The kitchen should have been safe. So when you ran to the sink and began the painful process of cleaning your wounds, and pulling the splinters from your fingers, you didn’t hold in your hisses and cries. When two large hands covered your own and pulled them from the water, you were shocked. Not only by the hands themselves, which were odd enough; one metal and one flesh, but by the being whose hands they were. An angel.

You immediately tried to pull your hands away, but the angel gave no quarter. He held your hands in a firm but gentle grasp as you struggled.

“I won’t be able to help you if you keep fighting me,” he said calmly; his voice soft, and a little gravely.

You froze in shock, an angel, help you? “What are you talking about?” you asked in a meek voice.

Keep reading

To the Four of Us (Part Twenty Five)

premise: modern AU chronicling the squad as they make their way through college and deal with general life things.
words: 2,803
warnings: death mentions, abuse mentions, swearing, i think that’s all but pls lemme know if I forgot something!
all chapters: x
tags: @heythereitsloey @anitheunicorn @newyorkyoucanbeanew @lafbagxette @justafangirlwithanavy @iamgrayfox @ordinaryornate @schuylerjoon @angelica-peggy-eliza @trashyperson101 @crazydragon15 @but-if-you-had-to-choose @geespilots @marvelous-hamilfan @mynameisalexanderhammyham @panda-powers @lafeyettegunsandships @schokoobananaa @allthegoodurlshavebeentaken @aphboi @hell-yes-puns-and-ships @aham-threw-his-shot-away @hesitantcat @nonstopspook @hamrevolution @writethewayout @alexander-did-you-know @allthegoodurlshavebeentaken @sun-tree @angelizaandpeggy @isis278 @idk-destiel @engulfedinstars @hamiltrashuniverse @ahrupe @just-me-an-asshole @readfizz @skeletonmelodies @gum-and-chips @iminwaytoomanyfandoms @hadleyelizabethuley @fictionalboyfriends
a/n: ur all gonna hate me lmfao bye

dedication: @sun-tree and @schokoobananaa for being like,,, art regulars??? I llove u both 


A funeral. Suits and ties and not knowing how to feel. Alexander had never been to one before, but he was pretty sure he wasn’t going to do well. As he buttoned his shirt, he watched John sit down on the hotel bed and aggressively yank on his dress pants.

John had been irritable all morning—snapping at Alexander, Hercules, and Lafayette, and only being minimally polite to George. Everyone treaded lightly; none of them were sure how to approach the situation. Even Alexander didn’t really know how John was feeling. Every time he’d attempted to pull him aside and talk to him, John would brush him off with a scowl. After that, Alexander made the executive decision to give him some space.

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Playing dirty / Chapter 3

Pairing: You / Xiumin / Baekhyun

Type: Angst, explicit language, illegal gambling

Word count: 3,2K

Summary: One night you met Xiumin in an illegal casino and he made you an offer you couldn’t refuse: help him win by cheating and get part of the profit. But one day someone comes in and tests your partnership and relationship. Will you stick with Xiumin? Or will Baekhyun steal you away?

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3


“Baby I’m so sorry, but I was kidnapped.”

“WHAT? Oh my god are you alright? Why did they kidnap you?” You were shaking, voice filled with worry.

“My father owed some money and so they kidnapped me. I managed to escape but they might come after me, you need to help me.”

“Who’s coming after you?”

“Baekhyun. My father owed money to his father, and when he saw me at The Big Royal Flush he sent his men after me.”

Your body froze in horror. No. It can’t be.


You couldn’t believe what your ears just heard; Baekhyun sent men after Xiumin to kidnap him. Once again your inner voice had failed when it came to him. You thought you could trust him, but turns out he lied to you. You were so angry for doubting Xiumin and letting Baekhyun in.

“Where are you now?” You had lowered your voice for fear Baekhyun would hear you.

“They kept me in a warehouse in the old part of town, but I managed to run to a more populated area near the mall, I had to borrow a phone from a guy on the street because they took my things.”

“Alright, go inside the mall and wait for me near Forever 21, I’ll come and get you. Be careful.”

“Okey, I’ll wait.”

After you hung up you started to get everything ready to leave. You thought about just giving Baekhyun an excuse and leave, but then you remembered that since he was the one behind it all it was very likely that his men would’ve already warned him about Xiumin’s escape, so you thought it would be safer to pretend you knew nothing and when he fell asleep you would escape, get Xiumin and take him to your home.

Keep reading

Candy For Grandmother

Summary: Gaston likes Grandma Dupont, the old lady in the village. Every Christmas he brings her candy. When her granddaughter (reader) moves to the village, he might have another reason to visit the old lady.

Rated: No smut.

Note: Fluff, Gaston, Gaston x Reader

Warnings: none

Words: 2935

Author note: Requested by an anon. Based on an AU, you can find here. AU from @dailyau. Enjoy everyone! Feedback is very welcome. :-) (Btw, that is my first try with character x reader. And English isn’t my first language and I have no beta at the moment, so please excuse mistakes.)


For years your mother tried to marry you to some rich man. The family name was a big one, your father is a very successful merchant, so everyone knew, you would inherited a lot of money one day. And your mother was particular happy about the fact you were beautiful and “blessed with wide hips, ideal for childbirth”. You had three other sisters and they all were successfully married. Your two brothers were married too. But you didn’t want to marry some rich bloke, you couldn’t stand. To be honest, every man you’ve met was boring. No one had caught your interest. And no one shared your interests. And a girl, who loves riding, the hunt and couldn’t care less about flowers and dresses wasn’t the ideal housewife, according to your mother.

So, it was a relief, when your mother FINALLY gave up. But she wasn’t very happy and neither was your father.

“You should do something with your life, (Y/N)”, he told you one day and you agreed.

You were tired of the big balls and feasts of Paris, of hours and hours in the tailoring or the endless and boring tea hours with the daughters from the other families, who all couldn’t wait to marry someone rich and get children and be a happy, naïve and little lovely wife.

Yes, Paris was the most beautiful city, but it could be incredibly boring. And you preferred the nature and country side much more.

One day, your father called you into his office and showed you a letter from your grandmother. She lived somewhere in France and was in the lead of a farm – and she needed help, but most of all company. She was getting old and the farm was no longer profitable. Your father knew, you were clever and you’ve learned everything from him. Mostly, because you were the only one, besides his sons, who cared for the family business. So, the moment he asked you to move to your grandmother, you said “yes”, without a second thought.

 
You hadn’t seen your grandmother in a long time. She came once a year to Paris to visit everyone. Besides that, she only wrote letters. Grandmama Dupont was a lovely woman and you loved her very much. She wasn’t very tall and she was very old, but still very clever and agile.

You arrived at the farm on a summer day and you felt incredible happy. Finally you were far, far, far away from Paris and annoying, social obligations and you could ride and hunt and most of all do, whatever and whenever you felt like it.

You quickly settled down in the big house and the small village, which was right next to the farm, was lovely and you really liked it. In the first months, everyone eyed you suspicious, but you quickly gained their trust.

Your grandmother spend most of her days helping you, but whenever she had time, she would go riding or hunting. Sometimes you saw her with a black haired guy, who was waiting for her at the forest. But you never saw him at the farm. You never asked your grandma, because it wasn’t your business.

 
You finally met him, when it was Christmas.

You were in the kitchen and cooked the Christmas dinner, when you heard a soft knock on the front door.

“One second!”

You put the deer, your grandmother brought early that day back home, into the oven and rushed to the door. When you opened the door, you looked into the most handsome face you’ve ever seen.

With a puzzled look, the man looked at you.

“I’m…looking for Mamie Dupont?!”

“My grandmère? She is in the village.”

“Oh.”

The man starred at you for a second. That young girl in front him, was very beautiful. He blinked, realising he was staring at you.

“I’m sorry. You are here granddaughter?”

“Yes.”

“Ah. She told me about you.”

“Did she?”

You raised an eyebrow.

“Yes. She talked about you. Sometimes. When we’re hunting.”

“Oh! You’re the guy who accompanies her.”

“Yeah, I’m that guy.”

The man showed a bright smile and you wondered, how someone could have such an amazing smile. You looked closer at him. He was tall, very tall. His dark brown (or was it black?) hair was perfectly coiffed in a ponytail, his face was almost clean-shaven, just some little stubbles were visible and they suited him. His eyes were mesmerizing. His face was perfect: the concise chin, the high cheekbones, the full lips. And his suit was well-tailored. He was the definition of perfection and looked like one of these Grecian statues you’ve read bout.

Too late you realized, he was talking with you. You were too busy with looking at him.

“What did you say?”

He showed another perfect smile.

“I said, my name is Gaston.”

“Oh. I’m (Y/N). Nice to meet you, Gaston.”

“Pleasure is all mine.”

You shook his hand and smiled.

“Gaston?!”

He turned around and behind him was your grandmother.

“Hello, Mamie Dupton.”

“Of course, you would come. You’re such a sweet guy. Oh, and LeFou is waiting for you at the gate.”

“I know.”

Gaston smiled and pulled something out of his coat.

“This is for you.”

He gave your grandmother a small package and a big smile appeared on her face.

“Thank you very much. Have a lovely Christmas.”

“I’ll try. You too.”, he added and walked down the stairs.

You looked after him, while your grandmother was entering the house. Before you closed the door, Gaston was turning around, looked at you, smiled and waved. You waved back and for some reason, you were blushing.

You quickly closed the door and went back to the oven.

“So, that’s the guy, you always meet for hunting?”

“Yeah, Gaston. Sweet boy, poor boy. His family his horrible. Father drinks and is aggressive, mother is basically not existing. I met him some years ago, when I was in the woods and he tried to hunt a deer. Poor boy nearly got killed. I’ve teached him everything I know about hunting and sometimes he’s helping me with the farm. He’s actually a hero, you know.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. You remember the war we had many years ago?”

“Father told me about it.”

“Gaston defended the village. He’s our hero.”

“My, what a guy, that Gaston.”

“Yeah, he’s some kind of paragon. Everyone’s admiring him.”

You nodded and moved to the next topic.

But you couldn’t stop thinking about that Gaston.

 
As it turned out, your grandmother didn’t made an understatement. Everyone really loved Gaston. Especially three brunette girls who would follow him wherever he went.

The more time you spent in the village, the more you heard about “the Great Gaston” and “his adventures”. And you realized, he was pretty bigheaded, a narcissist. And while you didn’t met him earlier, you now met him nearly every time you visited the village. You never talked much, just “Hello” and “Goodbye”.

And while your grandmother never had mentioned him earlier, she now would talk about him now and then. Listening to her, it felt like, she was talking about a different Gaston. But maybe, your grandmother was just old.

 
For the next two years, nothing changed.

You learned more about Gaston from your grandmother and heard a lot of stories from the villagers or saw Gaston in public. Gaston wasn’t really the most likable person, but you couldn’t say you disliked him. It…was hard to put in words. There was something about him, something special and everyone could see it. But you sometimes got the feeling, there were two Gastons.

On your fourth Christmas, you saw the package again. It was the same, Gaston gave your grandmother some years ago.

“What’s that?”, you asked curious.

“Gaston’s Christmas present.”

“What’s the present?”

“Candy.. I’ll get it every year.”

“Candy?”

Your grandmother smiled widely and opened the package.

“Yes. And it’s delicious! It’s homemade.”

“You’re telling me, that the Great Gaston is making his own candy?!”

Your Grandmother rolled her eyes.

“He’s not a bad guy. Just…complicated.”

You raised an eyebrow, but said nothing.

 
The next day, Gaston knocked at your door and you were surprised to see him.

“Gaston, what you’re doing here?!”

“I’m invited?!”

“You are?”

“Yes, he is!”, you heard your grandmothers voice from the background. “He is going to celebrate Christmas with us.”

You let him in and your grandmother hugged him.

“You’re going to love (Y/N)’s dinner! Best Christmas dinner you’ve ever tried.”

You felt your cheeks blushing.

“Grandma is exaggerating, very much. Before I moved to her, I couldn’t cook a potato. She showed me how to cook.”

“Yes, and she is very good. A perfect wife.”

You gave your grandmother a dirty look.

“Did you know, she’s also a good hunter?”, your grandmother continued.

“Really?!”

Gaston seemed surprised.

“Well, like grandmother, like granddaughter.”

You laughed a bit.

“Why don’t you two talk about hunting and riding and I finish our meal. (Y/N), have I told you, that Gaston is the best hunter in the village?!”

“You’ve mentioned it.”

“It’s true. I am. No one is better than me, expect your grandmother.”

“I’m sure there are other people who are good.”

“Yeah, maybe. But I’m the best.”

You nodded slowly.

“Tell her about the one time, you killed the bear!”, you heard your grandmother from the kitchen.

Gaston grinned and looked at you.

“Want to hear a story?”

You sighed and smiled.

“Do I have choice?”

“Not really.”, Gaston answered and for a brief second you thought, he winked.

 
In the end, the evening was pretty nice. In the beginning, Gaston was full of himself and the narcissist you knew, but the more you two talked, the more he stopped being an idiot. Gaston was, for sure, a really interesting person with an interesting life. He had a lot to tell and listened to you and your stories and seemed genuinely interested. You felt a bit of sadness, when he had to go.

 
After this Christmas, something changed. Whenever you two met, you would talk with each other. Sometimes, he would escort you through the village, helping you with your purchases. He was also helping a lot more at the farm. And sometimes you would accompany your grandmother and him for a hunt or you two were just riding out and talked.

Yes, he was a narcissist and sometimes he could be an idiot, but there was also a nice, very sensitive side he showed sometimes, when the two of you were alone.

At some point, you realized, you two were friends and you liked him very, very much.

Sometimes, when he was visiting the farm, he brought flowers. And sometimes, when your grandmother returned from village, she had flowers too – from Gaston.

“I wonder, why he’s giving you flowers.”, you said at one point to your grandmother.

“Oh, they are not mine. They are for you.”

Surprised you looked at her.

“Why should he give me flowers?”

Your Grandmother just smiled.

“Oh, dear (Y/N), you’ll find out. By the way, have I told you that one time, Gaston…”

You rolled your eyes and listened to another Gaston story from grandmother.

 
At the next Christmas, Gaston was invited too. Like always, he brought candy. A long time ago, you had found out, he did this since many, many years. And your grandmother was right. The candy was delicious.

And your grandmother wouldn’t stop talking about you two.

“Isn’t it a shame, (Y/N), that such a handsome and nice guy like Gaston, isn’t married?!”

“If you say so, grand-mère.”

“And Gaston, can you believe it, that such a sweet and clever woman like (Y/N) isn’t married yet.”

“Hardly.”, Gaston answered and smiled at you.

Your cheeks blushed – a thing they did, whenever Gaston was smiling at you.

“And I think, it’s so lovely you two go hunting.”

“Well, it’s hard to find company who can keep up with me.”

You rolled your eyes.

“Yeah, we know. You’re the best hunter ever.”

Gaston grinned.

“It’s true!”

“Ha! The last times, I was better.”

“You think so.”

“I was!”

“Look at you two. Bickering like an old married couple.”

You two stopped and looked at your grandmother.

“Well, time to get the dessert.”

And before you could say anything, your grandmother rushed to the kitchen.

“Married couple…grand-mère tries to be funny.”, you muttered under your breath.

Gaston looked at you and cleared his throat.

“Yeah. She’s a lovely woman.”

“Yeah.”

There was silence.

“But why aren’t you married? I mean, every guy in the village would marry you immediately.”

“Well, I guess, I haven’t found the right man. I want to marry someone, because I love him. I want someone, who respects me and my interests. What about you?”

“Well, I have to admit, it’s highly unusual that guy like me, isn’t married…”, he started and you rolled your eyes and Gaston grinned “…but I guess, it’s the same. Haven’t found the right woman.”

“Really? Not one of the Bimbettes?!”, you joked.

“I would never marry one of them.”, he said and suddenly, he sounded very serious.

“Too dumb?”

“Maybe. But, I want a strong woman. Of course, a woman who wants kids and be my lovely wife, but also a wife, who is self-confident.”

You smiled and there was silence again. Suddenly, Gaston chuckled.

“What?”

“It’s nothing.”

“Come on. What’s so funny.”

“It’s just…your grandmother praised you so much…at one point, she even told me…”

He stopped and looked down at his plate.

“She told what?”

“Nothing, really. Forget it.”

“Come on. Whatever it is, tell me. I mean, she talked about you so much and praised you so much. I know, what you’re talking about. At some point, she even suggested, we should go out. Can you imagine?!”

You laughed. Gaston didn’t laugh.

“Would you?”

“What?”

“Go out with me?”

Taken aback you looked at him.

“Well…I mean…why not?! Spending time with you is always great. And it would make grand-mère happy.”

Gaston smiled a bit.

“Yeah, that’s true.”

“We should do it.”

“Do what?”

“Go out. Maybe grand-mère will stop, if we go out.”

Gaston went silent for some seconds and nodded.

“Okay. Let’s go out. For mamie.”

“For grand-mère.”, you answered and raised your glass.

“Here is the dessert!”

Your grandma entered the room and you looked at Gaston and you both started laughing.

 
Two nights later, you two would go…on a date. On the one side, it felt strange to go on a date with Gaston. But on the other side, you felt really nervous…and excited. And you couldn’t say way. Your grandma was very excited and when Gaston picked you up, she had the biggest smile on her face.

“Have a lovely night!”

 
The night was lovely. You two went to Gaston’s house and he cooked for you. Later, you went to the tavern, where everyone was celebrating and you danced the whole night. You couldn’t remember the last time, you had so much fun and felt so happy.

It was nearly morning, when Gaston escorted you back to your house. You talked about this and that and when you arrived at the house, you sat down at the steps and continued talking. When you started freezing, Gaston put his jacket around your shoulders. You smiled at him and continued to talk.

At some point you yawned and you two walked up the stairs.

“Thanks for the lovely night. I had a lot of fun.”

“Me too.”

You two smiled at each other.

“Maybe we should do this again. You know, for mamie.”, he suggested.

“Yeah, sounds like plan.”

You two stopped in front of the door and looked into each other eyes. You felt something in your stomach…and your heart jumped. Gaston’s eyes were really beautiful and mesmerizing. He looked up and you followed his gaze. A mistletoe. You couldn’t remember, it had been there before.

“Looks like, we’re standing under a mistletoe.”, Gaston said and looked at you again.

“Yes.”

“Isn’t there some myth?!”

“You have to share a kiss under a mistletoe or you have bad luck with love.”, you answered and looked briefly at Gaston’s lips.

For a second you wondered, what it would feel like, to kiss these full lips, who looked so soft. Gaston looked at you and put his hand on your cheek.

“Well…we don’t need more bad luck…right?!”

“No…”

You swallowed and Gaston’s face came closer.

“To be honest, I enjoyed the night very much.”

“Me too.”

“And I wanted to ask you out for a while. I was glad mamie suggested it.”

“Why didn’t you ask?”

“I wasn’t sure, what the answer would be.”

“Why on earth could the Great Gaston be shy?”

“Because I…have feelings for you.”

You felt your breathing stopping.

“And I really want to kiss you right now, but not, if you don’t want it.”

And with that, you kissed him. You felt, how Gaston was putting his arms around you and you put his hands on his chest. And kissing Gaston was the most beautiful thing, you’ve ever did.

For SasuSaku Month 2017.


After buying food at a nearby restaurant, a man in a black coat seated himself on a table by the open entrance, laying his dish in front of him. It was a sunny day with the occasional cool wind passing by, and people were chattering normally in the surroundings. All in all, it seemed to be another one of those peaceful days.

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KK.

I’m only posting this because my love @frostbittemyheart wanted it.

I know this is probably like idk my 4th time re posting this.

My infamous Mark smut that @aireyelle enjoyed so much LMFAO. 

Disclaimer:It’s smut. If you dont like smut. Dont read it. And shut the fuck up because no one cares at this point LMAO. 

“Liquor and Sex”

You X Mark Tuan (GOT7)

Rated M

One Shot

You hated parties but your friend already talked you into going for the alcohol. It was bad enough it was someone from high school. Mark. Aka Fuck Boy. You didn’t want to be near him but your friend was into his friend Jackson.  You didn’t listen to the whole story. Your friend talked about how she bumped into them at the mall last week and she was so set on banging Jackson before he went back to Hong Kong.  

Mark was the typical popular guy in school that everyone wanted or wanted to be. He had the nickname Fuck Boy for that reason. He was so fucking cocky just because he was a little cute. He was more than cute. But you wouldn’t let him know that. You would be damned.

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ectobiology-department  asked:

what are your top 5 favourite underrated star wars alien races?

Oh that’s a fun one!

I ADORE the Aleena. I didn’t very much notice Ratts Tyrell in Episode One at the time. [Though I did notice his poor family :C] BUT The Clone Wars is what made me fall madly in love with the species. I totally want to see more of them.

Trandoshans: Even though I make them assholes in my AUs, like most of their canon appearances, I’d love to see one that wasn’t a jerk. Even better if their profession isn’t a hunter of any kind. But I’d love to see them actually explored in some way.

Besalisks: While they have appeared in the books, Dex and of course Krell are the most well known. I’d love to see another? They look cool, they have four arms (which is probably why we won’t see them in animation due to how expensive that is), and they’re pretty big. I’d love to see that species more.

Chadra-Fan: Little tiny bat like people? SIGN ME UP!

Pyke: A fabulous species from TCW that also appeared in Dark Disciple and Son of Dathomir, and the only one that has not appeared in live action before. I would die to see one though. They have such interesting designs and voices and I’d be so happy to see them used more.

Runner Up:

Xexto: While they have been in all the mediums, books, comics, and movies, I’d like one to pop up in a show? Being another four armed species, and having no feet but fingers on all limbs I imagine that they would never be. Still, it’s one I really like.

Thank you for the question!

anonymous asked:

Tokyo ghoul game of thrones crossover: Which house do you think Kaneki and other characters will be part of? Personally I think kaneki would be a stark lol but what do you think?

i love the idea of Kaneki being a Stark, but somehow i feel like what makes the Stark so special is that they’re a family, and Kaneki is the only member of his poor lil family lmao, so i think the Kirishimas should be the Starks *sobs* imagine the stark theme playing when Touka and Ayato meet up again in Cochlea for the first time in years or when he’s eating her kagune and she’s remembering her dad saying don’t leave me alone and all the flashbacks 😩

*falls into the void*

Kaneki would fit the Targaryen type 😂 white hair, his kagune looks like a dragon, he wants to free ghouls just like Dany frees slaves. He’s kind, everybody loves him (now that i’m realizing — kirishima-stark targaryan-kaneki 👀 fire and ice 🔥❄️)

Hinami could be a Tyrell, the “growing strong” motto fits her a lot. I suppose the washuus aka Furuta would be a Lannister? 😂 Donato also fits the Lannister concept, maybe because he’s old like Tywin.

Eto and Arima should be Targaryen too, the crazy side of the family until Kaneki comes to restore peace. 

jmercedesd  asked:

How did Lance become such a good shot? Did he learn back home, or was that all picked up at GG?

Thank you for the ask! This was a fun one.

(So I totally put the wrong link on my last head canon, and this is my main tumblr, but I’m happy to answer this here too.)

It was important to Lance’s parents that he knew how to handle firearms safely and understood that they weren’t toys. His older brother liked to compete in shooting competitions, so they had guns around the house, and even though they kept them stored correctly and safely, it seemed like it was just asking for trouble to not make sure everyone who lived in the house knew how to handle them safely.

Part of learning that safety was teaching him how to shoot when he was old enough, and he really took to it. He particularly liked riffles and precision shooting, and it wasn’t long before he was competing at his brother’s level. There was much friendly rivalry and bickering once they started entering the same competitions, even more when Lance started beating him.

He found an unexpected shooting buddy in Hunk’s mother. She was an engineer in a naval peace keeping organization, and was expected to keep her gun proficiency up to par while she was still active duty. Hunk and his sisters were not big on shooting, but when Lance found out, he would volunteer to go to the range with her every chance he got. She trained with different types of guns then he and his brother used, and he really liked being able to try them out and get familiar with them.

His brother eventually moved onto other interests, but Lance continued to compete into his late teens, although as his interests branched out, he entered fewer competitions then he used to. He still enjoyed going to the range to practice though. He found it an excellent stress reliever.

All those first places looked good on his resume to the Garrison, although in the program he was in and at the level they were at, there wasn’t much gun handling going on. They had to take a basic safety and handling class, and Lance was bored out of his mind. He got yelled at more then once for shooting smilie faces into the targets.

(Lance is the only reason Hunk passed that class. Hunk knew the safety stuff, of course, but he doesn’t have very good aim, and Lance spent a lot of time working with him so he could pass the proficiency test.)

Hunk is really the only one on the team who knows that Lance used to shoot competitively, and most of the group training they do is close quarters, where as range training is something Lance does on his own. It takes the team a long time to realize that Lance really is a sharp shooter, because they just don’t get to see him do it that often.

And in case you meant Altean Lance:

He really did live out in the sticks. His family wasn’t poor, but it was helpful to them to be able to provide at least some of their own food. In addition to fishing, they also did some hunting, and Lance was naturally good at it, so he ended up doing a lot of the hunting for the family.

The firearms training at the Garrison threw him a little bit because Altean guns have no kick back, so he had a pretty sharp learning curve using firearms that did. It made his instructors think he was mediocre at it.

He was pretty happy when his bayard turned out to be a riffle, because he was comfortable with the weapon and confident in using it. He’s also quietly delighted to be a better shot then Allura, who is kind of terrible with firearms. He feels like he’s not up to par in a lot of the areas Allura wants him to excel in, so it’s a relief to be well above her standard in this area.

(I’m still taking head canon asks - it’s the right link this time, really.)

Two Tiny Skellies :D

So, here is the tiny Spikey from the Daycare AU! :D
This little one is one of the troublemakers, apparently. The adults have to keep him separate from Error Sans, since those two are always getting into arguments and petty scraps. But what the adults don’t know is that Spikey comes from a very poor neighborhood. His family (Dr. Gaster and a baby Wrath) often don’t have the time or the money to suit his needs, at least not all of them all the time. Gaster had to spend a lot of time taking care of his second son, who was an infant. His work also kept him busy, so his first son was enrolled into the daycare. Because of this, Spikey puts up a hard defensive wall, and often gets into trouble in order to get attention.
But once little Taffy gets enrolled into the daycare, things seem to change. Spikey somehow seemed to be attracted to this quiet, shy skelly. But he didn’t want Taffy to notice and have everyone else think that he was a softie. So whenever Taffy interacted with him, Spikey put up the “big bully” act. But he was never aggressive. He only pushed Taffy once, and that result was enough to stop him entirely from hurting him again.
Soon, Taffy seemed to receive anonymous gifts: flowers, candy, crayons, even little toys that belonged in other classrooms. (Some other kids were getting upset that their toys were going missing.) He didn’t know who was sending them, but Spikey definitely knew. All Taffy knew was that someone was noticing him. I wonder who? 


Daycare AU © @blogthegreatrouge
Spikey © @spikeyskelly

Jamilton Soulmate AU

AN: So I saw this post about your enemy’s name on one wrist and your soulmate’s on the other so I wanted to make it a thing? I have no idea and I’m writing this at 1:10 in the morning so bear with me. Also it’s going to be about Alex because I relate to him more and can write about him? Enjoy!

Word Count: 882 (its short but hey its cool)

Pairings: Jamilton, Lams (past/referenced)

Warnings: Slight Angst 

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