i almost gave up in the end so it looks like shit

BTS Explain Concepts Behind ‘Love Yourself: Her’ Album: 'This Is the Beginning of Our Chapter Two’

Mere hours before the release of BTS'Love Yourself: Her, the album’s significance wasn’t lost on the group’s leader, Rap Monster.

“It’s really a huge, big step for us,” the 23-year-old rapper/songwriter/producer told Billboard during a phone call from Seoul. “Of course, every member is so excited about the album. We’ve been just practicing until now, day and night, to show these new songs and perfected performances. I left a message on our fan cafe, the other day, after we finished that 'this EP will mark the turning point of BTS’ and even though the wait felt really long with this album – I think it was the huge event, the BBMAs, were in May – so much has happened.”

The wait has been particularly anticipated for for the band’s famously passionate fan base, known as Army, who have been waiting for new tracks from Rap Monster, Jimin, Suga, J-Hope, Jin, V and Jungkook band after voting them Top Social Artist at the 2017 Billboard Music Awards over fellow pop juggernauts Justin Bieber, Ariana Grande, Selena Gomez and Shawn Mendes.

Since then, the BTS guys have landed distribution deals with Amazon and U.S.-based The Orchard (“We believe the physical album, still, really counts and it’s really important to connect with our fans around the world,” Rap Monster said) and hung out with worldwide chart-toppers like Major Lazer, Halsey, Charli XCX(“Maybe it’s just my sixth sense, but I think maybe we will be collaborating with even more interesting artists,” he added); even snagging The Chainsmokers to produce a beat for Love Yourself: Her.

One listen to the tightly produced record – which looks likely to make a big splash on the Billboard 200 next week – and the passion is palpable from the intense lead single “DNA,” the societal commentary in “Go Go,” among multiple lyrics and moments that feel ripped from the members’ personal journals. There’s also loads of passion in Rap Monster’s voice talking about these new songs as he sees and envisions the larger picture and message for his band’s latest batch of forward-thinking EDM, hip-hop and pop tracks. Read on for Billboard’s deeper analysis of Love Yourself: Her with Rap Monster.

Let’s start right from the beginning with “Serendipity.” Why was this the right song to choose as the intro and kick off the era?

When I wrote the lyrics, melodies and the first themes of “Serendipity,” I tried to come up with some rare things you find in life, something very special, like the calico, three-striped cat; things that have extraordinary meanings in people’s lives. I wanted to share this moment.

I was reading the lyrics are gender neutral, which I think is really powerful. Was that a conscious decision?

The lyrics were based on rare and special things in life. So, I thought, those feelings transcend genders, cultures and barriers between people.

We always put out the “Intro” just before releasing our single, so the intro is taking the role of telling the concept of this album. But “Serendipity” was actually the right song to share the feelings of our single, “DNA.” The title is about how our DNA is connected in the universe, I think that was the right feel for this album.

Let’s talk about “DNA.” How does this single continue and progress the story of BTS?

When we’re talking about our title tracks, “DNA” is about the expression of a young, passionate love. The lyrics are like, “The two of us our connected fatefully from the start, our DNA was just the one thing.” At the same time, “DNA” is taking BTS to new ground. We tried to apply new grammar and perspectives – if you listen to the song, you’ll understand what I’m trying to say – it’s very different from our previous music, technically and musically. I believe it’s going to be the starting point of a second chapter of our career; the beginning of our Chapter Two.

“Best of Me” is really impressive. It sounds like The Chainsmokers, but it also sounds like BTS. You didn’t lose yourself which isn’t easy when collaborating with new artists. What was that process like?

I love that track! We met them at BBMAs, we were so lucky. Actually, they invited us to their concert just the other day – they had a huge concert in Korea and we sang “Closer” together. For “Best of Me,” they gave us several tracks and samples months ago, we and our producers picked one sample, like, “Okay, this is fit for our next album.” So we worked on it, we sent it to them, we asked them what they think of the track we developed and got their opinions. And we made it! I’m so excited for it. [Laughs]

Your albums always have deeper social and society commentaries. Let’s talk about some of the topics with this release. “Go Go” instantly comes to mind.

“Go Go” is a trendy song, but it’s about how our young generation are living their lives with low expectations and standards so people are upset with reality; they have little hope and there’s so much economic hardship. We wanted to say something about it and emphasize to the world that it’s not their choice, but brutal reality that forces people to live and spend as if there’s no future.

But in Korea, “YOLO” has become a big key word for young people because we don’t have money and it’s really hard to get a chance to earn a lot of money. I think society has a lot of problems for young people. Young people spend their money on claw crane machines at arcades and they spend like $30 on trying to win these dolls. And then it’s like, “Oh! I spent all my money…shit. But I don’t regret.” That’s the biggest luxury for Korea’s young people: collecting accessories, cosmetics, that’s what they think is a luxury. It’s “YOLO” because it’s like, “I’m gonna buy all this! I’m gonna buy all this food and I’m going to eat it! I’m going to do it!” I think it’s sad because it’s all we can. “Go Go” is just saying, “Okay, just do it, we won’t regret it. Just spend several bucks on the machine and eat the food!” But at the same time, the song is very easily to sing along to so I think many people will like that song, especially if they find the deeper meaning.

Of course, I have to ask about making a skit interlude out of your BBMAs acceptance speech.

You need to hear “Mic Drop” because the skit was my speech at BBMAs –  because that was a big moment for our history – and then we put “Mic Drop” next to that because it’s like a flex – like, “Okay, we’re done. We don’t need to give a shit about anything.” That was the right skit and follow-up song for this album.

The last song, “Outro: Her” really spoke to me. It almost reads like a diary.

Ha! [Laughs]

After talking with you, it feels like it recaps the whole album and is really introspective.

I think that was the fastest work I did for this album. I wrote the verse in 20 minutes; it just came, very truthfully, from the bottom of my heart. I thought it was the right outro for this album because it is really a range of emotions – I’m saying I met this person that I really love, this person is the love of my life right now, I’m saying that I was confused and I was looking for love and this world is complex. But I think it’s you so, “I call you 'her,’ 'cause you’re my tear.” “I think you’re the start and the end of me.” That’s what I’m saying: You’re my wonder, but you’re also my answers. You’re my “her,” but you’re still the “tear.”

The hook is saying that love is not all about the happiness, it’s just not just about the joy, it’s not just about delight. If you want to love a person, you should know that there are tears and there can even be hatred inside of it. I think a love really includes all of that. That’s what I was trying to say. It’s complex.

And if fans are so lucky to own the physical album, they’ll hear two hidden tracks at the very. Why keep them secretive?

I think they’re hidden because you have to be a real fan of BTS to understand them. Otherwise, you won’t. Otherwise, you’d like be, “Why are they feeling so confused about things? They’re good?!? They’re No. 1 somewhere, they have so much stuff, why are they worried?” People always talk about that. But if you are true fan of BTS and you buy the album and you listen to the hidden track – if you are an Army and we spent time together from 2013, 2014 – they could understand. It’s kind of more special, more closer, to our true hearts.

© Jeff Benjamin @ Billboard

The Pickle Burger.

This is a very tame story /w a fairly satisfying end.

During college I worked a fair amount of crappy jobs. One of them being McDonalds. I had worked my way up from Grill guy to running the back end. This is not a promotion, it’s barely a change of physical position, but it is less hot. One of the perks is that I get my very own headset to listen in on all the orders so that I can get a head start on making the items as the person is asking for them.

It had already been a long day and we had been hounded by customers odd orders and yelled at by the terrible management. There is always a delicate balance between what we can actually do for a custom order vs what the customer actually wants. Today I’m squarely against the management. Today we had Hailey who was a particularly crappy manager and she had something against me for no discernible reason. So today I was not just adding 1 extra piece of cheese here or 1 extra squirt of mayo there. No, I was making exactly what the customers wanted and I gave zero shits if the store paid for it in inventory.

My opportunity quickly presented itself when a man came through the drive through. He ordered a double cheese burger with extra pickles. After his order was placed and the lady running the drive through confirmed his order he said through the speaker “Hey, I mean it I want extra pickles!” Protocol means I give him another pickle or two from the normal amount of pickles. Yes there is a protocol for this stuff.

Not today my pickle loving friend! I pickled the shit out of this double cheese burger. It was essentially like 3 full pickles with some burger around it. I grinned to myself as I wrapped up my pickle monstrosity and slid it down the tray to be picked up. I giggled, thinking how the guy would open his pickle burger and and question my sanity. And I especially chuckled to myself about how, under Hailey the evil shift managers watch, the store would be slightly pickle deficient!

I fully 100% thought that was the end of it, who comes back to the store because someone followed their order TOO CORRECTLY?

The answer was, this man.

I was working on another order say ~5 minutes after the Pickle Burger was birthed when I heard someone loudly ask for a manager. I peaked through the hole to the front to see a man holding my Pickle masterpiece in his hand and my stomach sank. I was certain this guy would like his pickle burger. Hailey walks up front and asks what the problem is, he looks at her and he opens the pickle burger, it was like Link holding the Master Sword, it was so beautiful one could almost hear angles singing in the background and I could swear the florescent lighting brightened above it’s splendor.

The man looks at Hailey and says “This is what I mean! Finally one of your guys makes a burger right! When a customer asks for extra pickles, this is what they want! I want you to tell your guys back there that they’re doing a great job!” and with that, Pickle man bounds off to enjoy his lunch.

Hailey told me that was too many pickles and to stick to protocol. Fuck you Hailey, I’ll do what I want.

Never Her

Originally posted by inlovewithacriminals

Pairing: Loki x Reader (ft. the Avengers)

Content/Warnings: Angst; fluff

Words: 1544

A/N: So my Soulmate AU writing extravaganza begins with Loki, my MCU husband. I’ll probably end up writing these Soulmate AUs to be a little longer. This was a request for @bi-pie67 for 7. Your internal voice is the voice of your soulmate’s, rather than your own.

Part 2 can be found here.


“Are you sure bringing Loki back to the Tower is a good idea?” You asked Thor dubiously. Steve seemed to reflect your sentiment, looking just as doubtful.

“I assure you, Loki will not get into any trouble,” Thor said. “He seems to have had a change of heart, and my father has ensured that he will be unable to use magic while here, at least until we are sure he is trustworthy.”

“I’m going to trust you on this, Point Break,” Tony said. “But if he destroys my tower again, I won’t be happy.”

“I am certain Loki will do no such thing,” Thor said. “I shall bring him here tomorrow, is that okay?” Everyone shrugged, still looking uneasy with the whole idea, though nobody raised any objection to that. “Marvelous! He shall be here tomorrow, then.”

Clint snorted. Out of everyone, he was, understandably, the least excited. “Can’t wait.”

You hadn’t actually been around for the whole Loki debacle, and admittedly you were a little curious to meet Thor’s brother. Some rather colorful tales had been told by the rest of the Avengers about Thor’s ‘crazy adopted brother’, but you wanted to find out for yourself. Plus, as someone who was still waiting to find their soulmate, there was always the little ‘what if it’s him’ in the back of your mind. Your soulmate, at least from what you always heard in your internal voice, sounded British… almost. You couldn’t put your finger on the accent, but it was similar to Thor’s.

“Up and at ‘em, sunshine!” Tony’s voice came over the speakers in the tower the following morning. “Good ol’ Reindeer Games will be here today, so we gotta make sure everyone is ready. You know, just in case he goes rabid reindeer on our asses. That’s all. Over and out.”

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The Secret Book Club

Originally posted by lokihiddleston

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Content/Warnings: Innuendos and a cheeky Loki and a very very shitty book. Also mild swears.

Words: 1767

Prompt: LOKI X READER WHO SHARE BOOKS AND READ TO EACHOTHER AND LOTS OF FLUFF HHH THAT WOULD BE SO CUTE PLEASE

Soooo this turned out much different than what I expected, (sorry anon I was having too much fun) but there is most definitely going to be a part 2 to this coming soon. At the request of a few people I’m starting a tag list, so if you want in then just shoot me a message! :)

Enjoy ;)

@mrsethedreamqueen@asometimestroubledmind

Part two
Part three
Part four
Part five
Part six
Part seven (NSFW)

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Accidental Stabbing (Richie Tozier x Reader)

Richie Tozier x Fem!Reader

*Please don’t plagiarize my work, thank you :3*

Summary: You tried to stay out of trouble, really you did. But while running from Henry Bowers, you bump into the only group people who seemed to have noticed you since your arrival at Derry. One particularly stupid boy in thick glasses catches your attention as you ‘accidentally’ stab Henry. 

Warnings: Cursing, stabbing someone (I mean… duh), blood, mention of assault, mention of cult activities (it sounds worse that it is, but holy fuck I sound satanic).

Word Count: 1,312

Being a resident of Derry officially sucked ass. Seriously. You glanced behind you as you ran and saw that Henry Bowers was still close behind, shoving little kids and adults alike. Your head snapped back to face front and you prayed that your legs could carry you just a little bit more. Ever since moving here a two months ago, there were a specific group of people you knew to avoid, even if it meant always being quiet and keeping your head down. Not that you were quiet in real life, but it was best not to trigger the anger that you kept locked away. Henry shouted something about you being a slut, his voice louder and closer. Your throat was growing tight and dry but the adrenaline kept you moving, sprinting through the town, ducking under people’s arms, sidestepping old folks, trying not to trample toddlers… All because the Patrick kid from Henry’s gang thought your shorts were too small. Well he can go fuck himself. You think, pumping your arms and legs faster. Fuckin’ pervert.

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⇁plums & melons | 02

Originally posted by parkejimins

pairing⇁Jimin x Reader

genre⇁drama, smut || brother’s best friend!au

warnings⇁public indecency, masturbation, dry humping, jungkook, things that shouldn’t happen in a closet, a brief mention of tentacle porn;;

word count⇁7.5k

The long time running game between you and your brother’s best friend started when you noticed his fascination with boobs—yours specifically. It was never supposed to amount to more than harmless flirting and lingering glances, but now, one year later, Jimin was ready to change that.

alternatively: Jimin and you play a game. the loser is fucked. metaphorically. literally. all the above??

01 || 02 

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You Bet [Part 2]

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Henderson!Reader

Request(s): A freaking lot

Word Count: 3233… too long I hate it

Song: Shook Me All Night Long by ACDC for no reason other than I love that song

Summary: Steve is awfully distracted by your getup for helping out at the Snow Ball

Warning(s): Smut (duh), Swearing (have you met me), arguing (Nancy and the reader), Jonathan being the coolest, Dustin being a little shit, this is really basic honestly it’s pretty bad

Author’s Note: IT’S HERE! FUCKING FINALLY! THIS HAS BEEN DONE FOR LIKE A WEEK I JUST HAVEN’T GOTTEN AROUND TO POSTING! I’M SO SORRY! Anyway, this probably isn’t that amazing but it could be worse i’m somewhat okay with how it turned out

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The Point II

Originally posted by silversunsandgoldenmoons

Billy Hargrove x Reader

I cannot believe the outpouring of love for this story. I got so many messages and replies DEMANDING that I post another part to this. Thank you to everyone who sends in their feedback. Every bit is appreciated!

PART I | PART III | PART IV | PART V


Y/N stormed out of the boys bathroom, her face red with anger. She heard another shout and slam come from inside, no doubt Billy hit something else. Y/N wiped at her eyes and rushed down the hall with no intention of returning to class. She turned a corner sharply and ran into someone.

“Whoa,” Hands held her shoulders to steady her. She kept her head down and tried to bypass the person. “Y/N? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, Steve” Y/N’s voice cracked in the middle of his name.

“You’re crying, Y/N,”

“I said I’m fine! Get out of here before he smashes your face in too,”

Harrington!” Billy’s voice boomed down the hall. He had murder written all over his face when he saw Steve’s hands on Y/N. “You’re dead!” Billy pointed to Steve with blood dripping off his hand.

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The King of Hawkins Goes Soft

Summary: The reader helps chaperone the winter formal, which leads to a very eventful night involving the King of Hawkins. 

Word Count: 2648

Song Pairing: Talking in your Sleep- the romantics https://youtu.be/PtxiZItyYh8

authors note: kinda spoilers for season two? This also doesn’t 100% follow the plot! I had SO much fun writing this!! Let me know what you think!! (single mom Steve is the best Steve)


You smiled to yourself watching the event unfold. Steve was giving some version of a pep talk to Dustin before the winter formal, and you laughed as you saw the deal sealed with a handshake.

Dustin walked by you with a huge grin, “Hey (y/n)!”. He saluted you, and you saluted back matching his grin. You winked, “Good luck tonight soldier”.

By now Steve had parked his car, and was resting against the hood. You walked over to him, “What are you doing here? Hate to break it to ya but you’re a little too old-”.

Steve crossed his arms over his chest, laughing while shaking his head. He smiled, “I gotta keep an eye on the little shits”.

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Lust & Errors 05

Rated: M

Warning: Excessive graphic smut, age gap, recreational drug use, angst, slight dub-con.

Summary: Step brother, fuck buddy… They were one and the same now. But what started out as some mindless fucking game, quickly turns into something much more difficult and complex.

Note: well, well, well…. look what the fuck it is. lol this was over 25k but i removed an entire scene because it completely threw off the flow and i wasn’t happy with it but here’s 19k anyways :))))

Words: 19.7k

01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05.



Seven twenty-three.

The clock taunted you, reminding you that this god foresaken party had hours left to go.

Amongst all of the sharp-dressed men and elegant women, you were the only young person in the vincity, no one being under the age of thirty five. It was awkward and boring because you literally had no one to talk to, on a casual-level that was.

Jimin would usually come to the parties just to save you from dying of bordem, but he had other plans tonight. Like almost every teenager on a Friday night, save for your stupid self.

Slowly, you made your way to the staircase and looked around, checking to see if anyone was paying any attention to you so they wouldn’t call out or question your departure. After failing to notice anyone paying attention, you sneakily made your way up the stairs - to your freedom.

On the way up, you couldn’t help but to feel like you were being watched, eyes trained on your back, but you figured it was just paranoia and continued upwards with quick steps.

Tonight your father was hosting one of the parties for his work, which at one point in time used to be glamarous in your eyes. Back when your mother was still alive, you looked forward to the parties because you and her always went shopping for new dresses and got your hair done, pampered yourselves for the special occasion.

Now, they were simply boring and quite honestly inconvenient.

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Imagine Jack spilling to Dean that you’re giving him the cold shoulder because you are jealous and have feelings of him, just like him.

“And here are our drinks.” you said with a soft sigh, plopping down on the chair next to Sam as all three boys took their drinks, Dean giving a side look to Jack, before he copied him in drinking the beer.

“You ok?” Sam was the first one to ask and you let a short huff of air.

“Just peachy.” you muttered, taking a sip of your beer and his frown deepened.

“What’s going on?” Dean too notice, raising an eyebrow and you didn’t even look at him, shaking your head.

“Nothing, drop it.” you said curtly but that only made Dean worry more and he clenched his jaw, leaning forwards in his seat; green eyes hard.

“(Y/n)” he started, voice rough and stern, showing that his overprotective side was starting to show and although if it was any other case you would have been flattered and touched, because let’s face it you were helplessly in love with the man, but now you could only think of how mad and… jealous you were to care about his concern.

“It’s not your business, Dean.” you mumbled, playing with your bottle.

“Not my busin-” he scoffed, laughing humorlessly “The hell it is.” he said gruffly, shaking his head “Did some jerk talk shit to you? Or did some fucking asshole hit on you?” he growled, equally bothered by both even if he didn’t have the right to question the latter, but you shook your head.

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10 Things I Learned as an Interviewer for the Interviewee

As a fourth year medical students (yikes) I was able to become an interviewer for my medical school. So yes, that means maybe someone I’ve interviewed may one day see this. Though probably not. Anyways, it was very surreal to be on the other side of the process all these years later and while I’m getting ready for interviews myself (anyone want me for residency, btw?)

A lot of expectations and previous notions about interviews that I had really did change and I can see how intricate the process actually is, and I get why we get asked the questions we do. At least somewhat better.                                                                   

All experiences and interviewers are different but here are some things I think can really help out the interviewee. Maybe things you thought were hard and fast rules but aren’t or things you didn’t expect us to be looking for. Anything to help! And while this is directed at pre-meds, the advice should still general enough that anyone can use it, if they want.

Some things to know beforehand; I was part of a two-on-one interview setting which lasted 30 minutes with a few preset questions we needed to ask. The interview was blind, so we couldn’t see stats.

Take a second to observe your interviewers.

This isn’t an open invitation to judge your interviewers, but most of us are pretty telling in the way we present ourselves. If you can take a break for the nerves for a second pay attention to our introductions, our demeanor and how we’re dressed. It can give you a sense of how relaxed or stringent we may be and what our personalities may be like even if we were told to stay stone cold poker-faced. And always keep in mind who your interviewers are and what departments they’re from. It can help guide the tone we set for the entire interview.  

Play off the interviewers.

Now that you’ve taken a moment to take in your surroundings use those to your advantage. If we’re playing tough, answer with strength and intention. If we’re relaxed, don’t sit so stiff and maybe get us to laugh. If you are asked thought provoking questions, take time to think about it and provide thought provoking answers. The more you work with us, the easy and more open a dialog becomes and the more personable the interview will become. It’s a great way to show flexibility and adaptation, and for the interviewers who did this well we found ourselves impressed.

If I’m offering you information, take it.

If I am telling you that I am a 4th year and I can answer your questions about rotations, classes, or student life I am literally giving you questions to ask me in the event you have forgotten all of yours. If faculty tells you which program they are a part of and what they specialize in they are opening that line of information for you. They are telling you were their interests and focuses are and you can run with that, if you like.

Please, please do your research.

We had an application who couldn’t tell us what they liked our school. Had no idea what the mission statement was or what the goals of the school were. Didn’t have a clue. I had to use my doctor face so I could stay neutral. It was bad. I get that you just want to be in medical school but come on. Point blank, there is no excuse for anyone to know nothing about the program they’re interviewing for. You should also have worked out answers for frequently asked questions. Getting stumped on classic medical school questions…it’s a big red flag. So please plan ahead and do your research.  

Pick the length of your answers carefully.

Different types of questions prompt different types of answers. There are a lot of questions that can prompt follow up questions. Hobbies for example; going into every detail about your hobbies is probably counterproductive. But that’s assuming you have a fair amount of things you like to do that aren’t medicine. You can add a snip here and there, like “I’ve done that for 15 years” or “it’s really a huge passion of mine” but if there is interest in hearing more, we’ll most likely ask. If you only have one thing, don’t think “I like running” is a good enough answer. Give us something to work with. There are questions, especially theoretical ones or tell me a story situations that are meant to be longer. And always keep in mind your time limit.

Be confident, not cocky.

There is a huge difference between smug and confident. We had one prospect who gave this shit-eating “gotcha” grin after every question they thought they had aced. It was almost like they were trying to directly challenging me. It got to the point that I stopped caring what they were saying and was just getting pissed. The answers could have been great (they weren’t) but all that stuck with me was the cockiness. Not sure if you do that unintentionally? That’s what practice interviews are for. There are very clear differences when someone was proud of an answer and were pleased, and what this individual was doing. And if you do act that way, personally, I don’t want you representing my school, regardless of what your application looks like.

I don’t care about the “right” answer. I care why.

I know there are certain questions answers that are kind of set in stone. And I know straying too far from say, an ethics question, is hard to do in a new and unique way. The way to make yourself stand out from the crowd is to explain the reasons why you believe this to be the “right” answers since those tend to differ among applicants and shows your critical thinking skills past “well obviously this is the right answer”. Aside from that most interviewers don’t have specific expectations for most questions. We’d rather just hear about you and your personal experiences, honestly.

We’re not always looking for your spoken answer.

Sometimes we’re looking at your body language. I will purposefully ask questions I know there are only a few answers too. Not because I want to know if you know it, but rather how you viscerally respond. Do you look uncomfortable when answering an ethics or grades question? Did you answer robotically? Are you still looking at me? Can you pick yourself back up after a rough question? What you do speaks just as loud as the things your saying and I’m looking for it.

Use your personality and responses to show you want to be here. Not your grades.

This was not an isolated event. I had a few prospective students speak about a class and sneak in “which I got an A in” and continue. Not really a fan of that. I naturally assume that everyone we interviewed had good enough grades and scores because, well, you’re at the interview. At this point in the process all I want if for you to shine beyond those things and prove to me that you can be a doctor on paper and in person.  

Make me feel connected to you.

In the end, I want to feel like I know who you are. I want to know what you stand for and I want to experience the person who wants to become a physician. I want to appreciate your story and how far you’ve come. We don’t need to become best friends, we don’t need to have similar thoughts or values or personalities. But I want to feel like we could understand each other now and in the future. Let me be excited about you and for you. Let me want you to be here so I can check accept.

I hope someone was able to get something useful from this because for all of you here dying to enter this crazy profession I want you to reach your goals. I really do, and I’m just doing all I can on the internet. Good luck to everyone on your interviews!

BTS Reaction To: First Time With Them.

-Request: BTS reacts to first time with you?-

Thanks for requesting! 


JIN.

Jin was nervous. He didn’t know what you liked when it came to inside of the bedroom, and what you didn’t, so the nerves he felt slowly starting to build up as he stared at you, sitting on the edge of his bed in only black lingerie, was eating him up completely. He couldn’t deny it, he thought you looked absolutely stunning in your attire, but he felt so scared to touch you - what if he messed up? what if he said something extremely awkward?

Knowing that Jin was nervous, you decided to make the first move, stepping up from his bed and walking toward him. He gripped your waist and pulled you into him, smiling down at you. He dipped his head into the side of your neck, where he began to leave small love bites. Jin smirked as small whimpers left your mouth, his hands soon finding their way to your bra and unclasping it. 

He pushed you down onto the bed where you removed your panties, clearly becoming too impatient for him.

You’re too fucking beautiful, I can’t wait to feel you wrapped around me.”

SUGA.

It all happened so fast.

You weren’t planning on riding Yoongi in his studio, but here you were, straddling his hips, your bare chest completely exposed to him. You and Yoongi never got around to ever having sex as normally the both of you were too occupied to even think about it, but Yoongi was extremely stressed today, and the only way you thought you could relieve him from his stress was to ride him as he sat in his chair, staring up at you with wide eyes. You grinded yourself against his clothed member, only earning a grunt of frustration out of him. 

“No. Teasing.” Yoongi firmly told you, becoming way too impatient to wait any longer for the feeling of his member buried inside of you. Complying to Yoongi’s commands, you slipped off your panties as Yoongi pulled his boxers down, his erection springing free. You were a little surprised at the size he was, and as it had been a while since you last had sex, you weren’t too sure how much it would hurt. Aligning your entrance with his length, you sunk yourself down onto him slowly, causing Yoongi to throw his head back and let out a sigh. He held your hips as you sat on his cock for a few seconds to get used to him.

“You’re-so-fucking-tight.” Yoongi almost growled. “F-fuck, you feel so good.”

RAP MONSTER.

You had always pictured your first time with Namjoon to be extremely romantic, maybe after a fancy meal, or after a night out, but it wasn’t what you expected. You had worn something a little too revealing, and with everytime Namjoon glanced at you, he found himself growing hard. At first, you didn’t notice the erection in his pants, until he walked up behind you, pushing his hard-on into you. He pulled you tightly into him, where he whispered into your ear “can you help me out with something, baby?”

It was so sudden, but you weren’t complaining, turning around to face Namjoon. You nodded shyly, and Namjoon smirked, pushing you up against the wall. He asked again to make sure you were certain, not wanting to force you to do something you weren’t ready for. But to his surprise, it wasn’t long before you were begging for his cock to fill you up. 

“Hmm, I love hearing you beg for Oppa’s cock. I wonder how tight you’ll feel wrapped around me.”

J HOPE.

You and Hoseok always had movie dates, and they were always harmless - curling up to one another, occasionally exchanging soft kisses, but somehow, Hoseok had ended up positioned between your thighs, thrusting his fingers in between your dripping wet folds. You whined at the feeling as his fingers pumped in and out of you, his long beautiful fingers working at a rapid speed.

“Do you think you’re ready for my cock?” He asked, removing his fingers from your entrance. You nodded, mumbling out a soft “yes.” He grinned at you in response, gripping onto your thighs, as he began to ease his length into you. Hoseok leaned himself down, burying his head into your neck as he let out deep grunts at the feeling of you around him.

“S-So fucking good, (Y/n). You feel so fucking good.”

V.

You were sprawled against the bed, completely naked, staring up hopelessly into Taehyung’s eyes, almost trying to signal to him through your expression how desperate you were for him. You and Taehyung weren’t very nervous about your first time together, as you had both shared your kinks to one another before hand, so you both knew what you both did and didn’t like. 

Taehyung deeply chuckled, admiring how needy and ready you looked all for him. He wanted to tease you, but this was both of yours first time together, so he wanted to give you what you wanted before putting his pleasure first before yours. 

Taehyung pushed his member in between your folds, letting his eyes flutter shut at the pleasure he felt. “S–Shit.. You’re so warm and tight for me.”

JIMIN.

After a stressful day at work, you were not expecting Jimin to be holding you against a wall, letting his warm tongue delve into your mouth, kissing you with all his might. Jimin slowly crept his hand underneath your shirt, and too his surprise, he found you without a bra. He smirked against your lips as he fondled with your breasts, your arousal already starting to grow. You wondered how far you both would take it, and you were hoping Jimin wasn’t going to leave you a needy, whiny mess, but Jimin was willing to take it however far you wanted to go. Asking before hand if you wanted to go further, to which you had said yes, he slid his hand up your skirt, removing your panties which were wet from your arousal. 

Jimin pushed a finger inside of you as you hoisted your leg up, and hooked it around his waist. You gripped onto his shoulders for your balance, letting yourself indulge in the pleasure you were feeling. 

“So tight around my fingers.. I wonder how tight you’ll feel wrapped around my cock.”

JUNGKOOK.

Jungkook was always busy - always occupied with work, meaning he never really had much time with you. Of course, with every opportunity he had which gave him some spare time, he’d always spend the time with you, however it was extremely rare for him to have any given time on his hands. 

It had been a couple of months since you had last seen Jungkook, as he was on tour, and he was arriving home shortly. You were excited - more than ever - to see him, especially as you had planned a secret surprise for him. The only thing you were wearing was red lingerie, which was his favourite colour on you, and you were extremely nervous to see his reaction.

Not long later, Jungkook arrived home, his mouth fallen agape, as he stared upon you, taking in every inch of your exposed skin. At first, Jungkook was a little nervous, as you had never made a bold move like this, but soon, the feeling faded, and he had you laid out across the bed for him, where he could see your beauty in better view.

“You’re so fucking stunning, you know that, kitten?”

Kitten. Jungkook always called you by that pet name, and you had always seen it as an innocent name, but the way he said it, his voice deep and hoarse, made you almost shiver.

With quick moments, his clothes were sprawled across the floor, and he pushed your panties aside, sliding his length in between your slick folds. A throaty groan ripped from his throat, and it was almost like a sound as if he had been longing for this feeling for a while. 

Ah, Kitten- you feel so good for me.”

Just for Christmas Eve (Steve Harrington x Reader)

Originally posted by strangersource

Summary: After being put in a tight corner by your family, you find yourself lying about your current relationship status, assuring them that your boyfriend will be making an appearance at the annual Christmas Eve party. After a panicked search for a last minute fake-boyfriend, you have to rely on your younger brother’s cute new friend to help you out of your tight spot.

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Henderson!Reader

Word Count: 4,716

Author’s Note: Wow. I started out just wanting to write something fun and silly and holiday-y, but then I found myself just writing and writing and writing. I hope you love this somewhat cliche but definitely cute story.

Warnings: None!


“So, Y/N,” your aunt started. You held your breath, and you already knew where this was going. It was the same every year. The Friday before Christmas, your grandmother and your mom’s sisters and their daughters would roll in for the Annual Christmas Cookie Baking Day. When you were younger, you had loved every part of it. Eight women, all bustling around the kitchen, doing different jobs for different cookies. As the second youngest (and you being who you were) you had always been in charge of the thumbprint cookies because it was something you couldn’t mess up and therefore couldn’t freak out over. Plus, it kept you out of the older girls’ hair. Now that you were, you had graduated to being the official cookie finisher, charged with decorating any and all cooled cookies. Yet, while each year you were allowed to help more and more, every year, your family pestered you more and more about what you were doing in life. More specifically, your love life. “Any new boys we should know about?” your Aunt Veronica raised her eyebrows, her hands busy mixing the chocolate chip cookie dough.

Of course there weren’t. You had been busy busting your ass day in and day out, working to get a full ride to college. But sure, ask about the least successful aspect of your life.

You opened your mouth to say as much, when your cousin snorted. She, like you, was decorating gingerbread men. “You know she doesn’t. Y/N doesn’t have time for relationships,” she teased.

“No, no,” your Aunt Patricia’s daughter, Sarah jumped in. “That was two years ago, Rebecca. Y/N doesn’t have a boyfriend because she’s just focusing on herself. Being independent.” The two girls laughed, and you rolled your eyes dramatically.

Aunt Patricia wrapped a sympathetic arm around your shoulder. “You just haven’t met the right person yet,” she soothed. “You will.” She kissed the side of your head and moved across the kitchen to start the next batch of sugar cookies.

To some extent, you understood your family’s preoccupation with your relationship status. Your mother had cracked slightly after your father died, and it was the main reason that the Annual Christmas Cookie Baking Day had been founded. It was also the reason why the rest of your extended family trooped over to your little house to have a Christmas Eve party every year. Your aunts just didn’t want you to end up lonely like her. They didn’t have a lot of faith in Dustin keeping you company for the rest of your life.

So, every year, your family checked in to see if you were still single.

And every year, when you confirmed that you were, they gave you a hard time about it and inevitably ended up giving you a list of eligible men from their various parts of Indiana. Once, your aunt had even dragged along a neighbor boy to the Christmas Eve party and forced you two to spend time together.

It had been uncomfortable as hell.

“You know,” Aunt Veronica began. “Jerry’s single now. He’s smart like you, and very cute.”

“My ex-boyfriend, Jerry?” your cousin, Rachel asked her mother with wide eyes. Of course they would try to set you up with your younger cousin’s ex-boyfriend. Of course.

“Oh come on, Rach, you weren’t that into him,” her sister rolled her eyes. “But he’s not Y/N’s type. David Malkins, though, I should give him your number,” she pointed at you. “Or Kyle. His brother. What do you like? Dark or light brown hair?”

“What about Eric Robins, you know the boy who–”

“I have a boyfriend!” you burst out, suddenly. They all turned to face you, looking almost surprised that you were there.

“Really?” Rebecca asked, stopping in the middle of icing a smile on the gingerbread man’s face.

“Yeah. He’s coming to the Christmas party. It was supposed to be a surprise,” you flushed. They all looked at each other as if they were silently deciding who would call you out on your bullshit. Finally, Sarah turned to look at you.

“I can’t wait to meet him.”


“I can’t believe you told them you had a boyfriend,” your brother shook his head at you.

After all of the women had left your house, he’d heard you slam your door and had come to your room to check on you. He was sweet that way when no one was around. It had only taken him a few minutes of pestering you about why you were trying to smother yourself with your pillow before you broke down and told him exactly what had gone down. And Dustin was being very Dustin about the whole situation.

“I panicked!”

He chuckled. “Yeah, you did.”

You picked up a throw pillow and threw it at his head. He dodged it easily, still giggling.

You threw yourself back down onto your bed, staring up at the ceiling. You had two and a half days to find a boyfriend. No big deal. It wasn’t as if you hadn’t been able to find one at all in the past 18 years of your life or anything. Nah, this would be easy. You totally weren’t freaking out about it.

You were in such deep shit.

“What am I going to do? I can’t tell them he’s suddenly sick or staying with his family. Mom was there too. It’s a miracle she didn’t say anything.”

“She probably just doesn’t want any more of Aunt Patricia’s weird neighbors in her house,” your brother shrugged.

You just groaned in response, wishing your house would swallow you up and spit you out in some alternate dimension where you wouldn’t have to deal with this.

“I’ll help you. It’ll be like a shared quest,” Dustin offered. You turned your head against the pillow, checking to see if he was messing with you.

“Are you serious?”

“Of course!” he exclaimed. “I also don’t want any more weird neighbor boys in our house,” he grinned cheekily. You picked up another pillow and threw it at him.

Keep reading

“You Love Me?”

Title: “You Love Me?”

Pairing: Richie Tozier x Reader

Type: Platonic | Romantic | Familial | Other

Warnings: angst, profanity, mentions of aids, mentions of neglectful parents.

Prompt: F13: “you love me?” “You have no idea.”

Never in your life did you dream you’d fall in love with Richie Tozier.

You’d known him since your diaper days - toddling about together, plump thighs and sticky mouths, with both of your parents watching - your’s attentively, Richie’s listlessly, bored, looking as though they wanted to be anywhere other than watching their only child take his first steps.

Growing up, shared rattle toys became shared peanut-butter sandwiches or bright-coloured hairclips pilfered from your mother’s china dish. Richie loved to wear those hairclips, more than even you. He’d stick an assortment of them into his unruly web of dark curls, specks of pink and lime and chrome swathed in a brunette tide.

Richie had always been… spacey, almost. From the first time, in third grade, you could cross the road on your own (“be very careful, Y/n. Remember to look both ways, and stop and listen for any cars, and never, ever cross on a bend.”) Richie’s parents gave no such forewarning, and it was with cheery ignorance he sauntered right into the - albeit, quiet - road on Monday morning.

Your hand shot out and grabbed him by the collar in childish alarm. “What are you doing? We have to look both ways first!”

“Oh yeah,” he returned cheerfully. “I forgot.”

Brushing off your scandalised look, he pointedly craned his neck left, then right, and then took your hand in his and pulled you from the curb with no warning. You shrieked at him all the way over the asphalt, sure a car would come from nowhere and career into you. When you scrambled onto the sidewalk on the opposite side, you ripped your hand from a giggling Richie’s grasp.

“That wasn’t funny!” you said shrilly. “I told you, we have to be careful when we cross a road, else we’ll both be hit by cars!”

“What happens when you get hit by a car?” Richie countered thoughtfully, as the two of you began walking. You paused to think, chewing your lip.

“We end up flat as pancakes, and the police have to peel us off the road,” you eventually returned triumphantly, but if your aim was to deter Richie, it backfired.

“Cool! I want to be a pancake!” declared the boy enthusiastically, but you merely shot him a frosty look and dragged him through the school gates.

You were there when Richie got his glasses, and the teasing started. Sneering jibes of “four-eyes” were brushed off, kids asking how many fingers they were holding up deflected with ease. You worried for Richie, the sensitive soul that you were, but he only ever laughed about it.

You were there when his parents stopped calling when they weren’t going to come home that night. Before, it was apologetic phone calls (“Richard, sweetie, we’re so sorry, the most silly thing - your father enjoyed himself a little too much at the gathering, you know how he likes his currant wine, only we thought it best to stay at the hotel tonight.”)

You found him hunched up by the side-table where the phone stood. The house was dark and cold - the heating wasn’t on. Richie looked like he hadn’t moved in years, a statue gathering dust, huddled against the wood of the table. You flurried around, snapping the lights on, straining to reach the boiler on tiptoe and turning the dial all the way up before scooting over to Richie and crossing your legs anxiously.

“What’s wrong, Richie?” you inquired. “Where are your parents?”

A pure stab of shock flashed through you at his sudden sob. Tears dripped down his screwed-up face, and when he spoke, his voice trembled. “I don’t know.”

Eventually, after a few phone calls, it was discovered that they were in New Jersey for an open evening of his father’s business. Richie stared at you, stricken, as you solemnly recited what the lady on the phone had told you. “But why didn’t they tell me?” he whispered. You didn’t know the answer to that, so you hugged him instead. He smelled of apple suckers and loneliness.

You were there in fourth grade when Richie discarded his mismatched sweaters and jeans for bright eyesores of Hawaiin shirts and jean-shorts and colourful sneakers. He traded his thin, wiry black glasses for thick red ones that made his eyes looked three times their normal size (you noticed what a pretty brown those irises were, then). He was there when your love for rainbow ponchos and ballet skirts and bracelets with bells on them faded in favour of garish maroons and olives and navies, overalls and sandals and short-shorts. He still wore the hairclips, sometimes - the dark red one that was always his favourite. The rest he kept in a small pot under his bed, along with a photo of you and him grinning toothily in first grade, tucked safe under the velvet lid.

You were there when Henry Bowers, held back for the third year running, decked him for the first time. He called Bowers a “son of a motherless whore” - something impressive-sounding he’d overheard on TV - when he saw him laying into the tiny asthmatic kid from world history. It hadn’t ended well, and you ended up wiping the blood from his nose and lips and teeth. He smiled sheepishly as you scolded him, but his apology was real as the blood staining the tissues. And another plus - from that day, you had three new friends. Stuttering Bill and Eddie Spaghetti and Stan the Man. You five were united as outcasts, not exactly a force to be reckoned with but certainly one that required brief consideration before attempting said reckoning - or whatever.

And in fifth grade, Richie hit some sort of tipping point.

He grew louder and more foul-mouthed, more enthusiastic in his spastic movements, and far more inclined to disrupt a class or smoke in the toilets or flunk school entirely. Then the remarks filtered in - intrusive and suggestive, comments on your legs or your chest or your mom. It annoyed you to no end, but you could think of no way to make him stop. Every time you snarked him or socked him on the shoulder, it made him slightly wilder, a shit-eating grin cracking his face in two - until you remembered something you’d seen once on telly. A man and a woman, and the man talked a lot. Whenever he talked too much, the woman would press a big red button that made a loud “BEEP BEEP” sound.

So, when the next remark came - “Hey Y/n - you have any other hobbies, ‘cept for being my own personal bicycle?” - you stared him dead in the eye and countered solemnly, “beep beep, Richie.”

He gaped at you like a fish out of water, speechless for the first time in years. “Did - did you just - beep me?”

From then on, it seemed to work to shut him down.

But it wasn’t until four months ago - when Georgie went missing, and you met Bev and Mike and Ben, and IT chased normalcy from your life did things between you and Richie start to shift.

You wanted to be with him every second - he was the longest-standing memory you had, the boy with hairclips in his curls who watered your head like a flower the first day of second grade. He was the one who poked your cheeks and called you “bubs” and yanked your ponytail and drew obscene images on your hand in permanent marker. He was the one who spent 70% of his time sleeping round your house when the silence of his was unbearable, who held you sombrely when you cried and cursed at the toughest of bullies in your honour. Richie was, to say with a flair for the dramatic, your life - mapped out in dark hair and freckles and lime sneakers, your other half.

The first time you wanted to kiss him was after the blood oath.

You hissed in pain as you wiped your hands absently on your black shorts. Richie walked beside you, gazing at the jagged cut on his palm with avid interest.

“I swear you can get AIDS from doing shit like this,” Richie commented as the both of you reached your bikes discarded in the grass.

You huffed a laugh. “Probably - but don’t go telling Eddie that.”

“Please. He’d convulse and die on the spot,” Richie scoffed, swinging a leg over the leather saddle. “So, where’ll it be, sweetcheeks?”

You rolled your eyes at the nickname. “I’m kind of in the mood to not think about anything. You wanna head to the arcade?”

Two hours later, pumped up on blue-raspberry Slushies with fingers cramping from the buttons and levers you’d been busy stabbing and yanking, you and Richie sat in a greasy-spoon café, snacking out of a shared basket of cheesy fries as the sky darkened outside the window.

“What d’you think’ll happen now?” Richie asked suddenly.

“What do you mean?” You swallowed your fries, reaching for your Pepsi to wash it down.

“Now IT’s dead. Kaput, bitch. No more missing kids, no more hallucinations, no more freaky fuckin’ clowns.” Richie heaved a sigh. “Cause I don’t think everything will just magically go back to the way it was.”

“No,” you mused in agreement. “No, you’re probably right.”

“‘Cept for us,” Richie beamed suddenly. “We’re inseparable, right?”

You grinned. “You bet, Tozier. For better or for worse.”

You looked at him - skin illuminated by the softly-glowing neon lights from the sign outside, the contours of his face sharply shadowed, hair a black, untameable mess as ever - and the urge to kiss him took you so fiercely, it almost knocked you off your chair. You swallowed your mouthful of fries too quickly in your shock, and one ended up dislodged in your throat. You choked and wheezed, and Richie unhelpfully thumped you on the back until you’d swallowed the damn thing.

“Jesus Christ,” he commented. “Y/n, if you wanted something to choke on, you could’ve just asked.”

A week ago, the comment would be met with an eye-roll; now it only made a flush climb your face, and you took a long swig of your iced Pepsi to ward off the redness.

The first time you actually kissed Richie Tozier was two months later.

It was midnight, but sleep troubled you not. You sat wide-awake, flat on your back and staring up at the ceiling in the darkness, when a sudden tap like long nails on wood made you start violently. Clambering to your feet, you glanced at your window; sure enough, a second later, a pebble hit the glass pane and bounced off again, and you sighed, picking your way over and opening it wide.

“Throwing pebbles, Romeo?” you called down teasingly. Richie glared up at you.

“Can I come up?”

You jerked your head in affirmation. At this point, your parents were so used to you going to bed alone and coming down in the morning with Richie, you didn’t even have to worry.

You slid the ladder out the window until it touched solid ground, then went back to your bed. A minute later, Richie’s face appeared at your open window, and he hauled himself in with all the grace of a sack of wet concrete.

You frowned as the scents of - was that wine? Wine and perfume - wafted in after him. He was also wearing a suit - a suit - but the illusion of whatever formality he’d been going for ended at his hair; looping black curls in total disarray, a soft tide of dark hair held back by a lone red hairclip.

“What the fuck are you wearing?” you eventually managed to choke out.

“My parents are home,” he answered non-communally. “And they decided to host a fucking mixer at our house tonight. So I was forced to wear this bullshit thing -“ he plucked at the suit in disgust “-and I only just managed to get away.”

“Wow.” Your eyes caught the red hairclip glinting amongst the soft web of dark curls. “I haven’t seen that thing in years.”

His hand skittered up to trace the clip absently. “My final act of defiance,” he chuckled weakly, before sinking down to sit on the carpet with heavy shoulders and clasped hands.

“Why are they such assholes, Y/n?” he asked suddenly. “I don’t know if I mortally offended them as in infant, or some shit like that - but even if I did, I still wouldn’t know, because they don’t talk to me. I don’t get it. Why have a kid if - if you’re not gonna-“ He waved his hands around in frustration, as if he could wring some meaning from the sentence if he hit at it enough.

“I don’t know, Richie,” you sighed, sliding off the bed and scooting closer until you sat toe-to-toe with the despairing boy. “I wish - I wish I could help you.”

Finally, he looked up; the tear tracks on his face glistened faintly as he smiled - not a smirk, or a shit-eating grin - a real smile that tore a hole in his chest and let all the dully-glowing fragments of the real Richie spill out for you to see. “You already have,” he answered softly.

Your breath seemed to catch in your throat. “But there’s gotta be more I can do. Damnit, Richie, I love you, so much and it fucking kills me to see you just - just take this shit.”

Richie stared at you, stricken. “You love me?”

You scoffed lightly, your face softening. “You have no idea.”

“But…” Richie was struggling to finish a coherent sentence. “Do you love me like - like the kid the split your granola bars with in second grade or do you love me like a…” Again with the wild hand gestures. “Y’know?”

A laugh bubbled through your lips. “Who says it can’t be both?”

As he opened his mouth to retort, you covered it with yours.

It was chaste and clumsy, but the chaps on his lips felt just right against the smoothness of yours, and the squeak of surprise he made at the embrace was swallowed. You could feel the heat of his cheeks and the flutter of his eyelashes and the firm beat of his heart all in that one, fleeting moment your lips touched.

And even as you pulled back, you felt him still. He was stammering in a way that’d give Bill a run for his money, but you could only smile.

Never in your life did you dream you’d fall in love with Richie Tozier - but right now was one of the rare, blissful seconds reality was better than dreams.

Multiverse Lovers - Part Two -Stiles Stilinski

Title: The Happenings of Beacon Hills

Author: @mf-despair-queen

Pairing: Stiles Stilinski/Reader

Word Count: 8,436

Warnings: 18+, NSFW, Public Sex, Jeep Sex, Fingering, Hand Job, Making Out with Stiles because who wouldn’t?, Feeling, Sexy Massages, Dirty Talking, Orgasm Denial, Multiple Orgasms

Notes: Prepare your holy water, because it’s about to get real. 

Part One | Part Two | Part Three

The jostling of the moving car bumped you left and right, the almost inaudible chug of the engine the first sound you could make out. Your eyes clenched tightly, a small stream of sunlight hitting them through the window. Your mind was slow to process what was going on and where you were, the worn leather of the seats making your back sweat profusely.

Wait, you thought to yourself, your eyes cracking open to stare at the roof of the vehicle above your head. Why am I in a car? The last thing I remember was falling asleep on the roof…

You sat up startled, glancing around at your surroundings hoping to figure out where you were and what was going on. A million thoughts were running through your mind, none of them making any sense. You glanced out the window in front of you, watching the trees pass by. You were in a moving vehicle, make and model unknown, person driving it most likely having kidnapped you.

“Glad to see you are finally awake,” the driver spoke. You glanced at the person, meeting their eyes through the rear-view mirror. The male’s honey brown eyes sparkled in the sunlight, but more than familiar to your well-trained eyes. “Did you have a good nap?”

Your mouth fell open, not believing what you were looking at.

Stiles Stilinski is right in front of me. What the fuck?

Keep reading

❝ You are my paradise ❞

Plot: You and Yoongi fight and he says he hates you. So you decide to give him the silent treatment, but he tries everything to make you talk to him again.

Words count: 5,5k+

Pairing: Yoongi x Reader 

Genre: Fluff 

For anon, I hope you like it cutie! 

-M.

Originally posted by seokjins-wings

The thump of the door closed behind your shoulder was the noise that welcomed your return home for more than three weeks.  

The door closed behind your boyfriend without you having time to greet him or spend a few minutes with him.  

At every comeback the situation worsened, you knew at the beginning of your relationship and you remember it again after almost two years. But this time there was something different and you couldn’t understand. Your mind completely filled with thoughts, which annoyed you without interruption.  

The first few days you hadn’t noticed the difference, but now it was impossible not to notice. Don’t notice those little details. Like the absence of his good morning kiss or the complete disappearance during the day, without a simple message or even a quick phone call.  

Your chest was crushed under the weight of the consciousness that you would spend the umpteenth evening alone, with your dog trying to cheer you up and some melancholy song in the background. In short, the dream of every girl of 24 years for her evenings.. Especially when they have a boyfriend.  

“Hello to you too..” Your hissing scattered in the air and your little cub of Jack Russell, the dear and adored Agust D, began chasing his own tail to draw your attention. “Hello puppy,” you whispered gently, lowering and running your fingers on his short and soft fur.  

He barked with happiness but you couldn’t prove any spirit of sharing. Yoongi had disappeared for the umpteenth evening and this began to dig into your heart a bigger hole that was scaring you. In ways that you never thought possible, a fear that couldn’t be explained.  

Since the evening was ruined, you dragged your feet to your room and changed into something more comfortable. The pajamas, a beautiful zebra printed pajamas, was the best solution.  

What could be better than warmth and softness and comfort?? You knew it, but you ignored to say the answer aloud otherwise your mood would have worsened further.  

“D, what do you want to do??”  

The puppy started barking, hopping around the house and dragging behind a little plush, making you smile slightly. At least someone in that house was happy, you found yourself thinking.  

The kitchen, the second place where you were more comfortable after the bed, greeted you as you lit the lights and started thinking about what to eat. You weren’t starving, but from that morning you hadn’t touched food and knowing if you skipped another meal, you would have fainted at the least opportune moment.  

“Mmm…”  

“Hyung sent you some bibimpap and the cabbage kimchi, they’re in the refrigerator.”  

Yoongi’s raspy voice caught you unprepared because you would never have expected to hear it so soon. Thinking that now your mind was playing with your mind to make you believe that everything went well, you wouldn’t turn around and keep looking at the various packs of ramen you kept in the cabinet. For any eventuality, of course.  

Yoongi remained on the doorstep of the kitchen, astonished by the fact that you had totally ignored him. He was back to ask if you wanted to spend the evening with him in the studio because he knew.  

He knew it was going on as always, that he was neglecting you and letting you go. Just as he knew that it couldn’t happen every time, despite living well with that situation your heart suffered the consequences. He had spent whole months to make you really trust him, months that were also useless to him to trust at least a bit of you, and every time he walked away he knew that he cracked that trust. That pushed you to think the worst.  

But now he was there, in the same room, and you didn’t even spare a look to him. And he had to admit that it hurt, but without understanding that it was the feelings that you felt every single time you came home.  

It was the first mistake of the evening.  

He cleared his voice again, but your attention was still focused on your choice.  

“Y/N.”  

“SHIT!!!”  

The pack between your hands fell to the ground while you jumped, facing him and following your gaze you noticed him on the door. His annoyed look and the arms folded across his chest.  

The dark circles under his eyes, the black beanie and that fringe that now almost covered his eyelids, his clenched jaw, his black irises that seemed somewhat darker. He didn’t seem very happy and you wondered if his feelings could reflect your own.  

“S-sorry.. I was thinki–”  

“What did you think? Ignore me,” he took off the beanie throwing it on the table, “it wasn’t pleasant for me. ”  

You scoffed, feeling the skepticism open a gap in your mind. Really feeling ignored was unpleasant? You’d want to tell him he was welcome in your world, but you’d bite your tongue. A fight was the last thing your mind already full of negativity could endure.  

Agust D, feeling that something was about to happen, began to wander near Yoongi’s feet, but he ignored him and didn’t wash his gaze away from you.  

And you felt vulnerable. Under the indifference and repressed anger that those dark irises were showing clearly. The phone on the table gave a sound and you wanted to hide behind it while avoiding the way he was looking at you. 

And that was the second mistake of the evening.
The moment you stood out your arm to grasp it, something snapped into Yoongi’s mind.  

“Are you kidding? Y/N; I’m talking to you!”  

With your arm in mid-air, you froze and turn your head towards him, observing how the rage was transforming his lines. Angry, but for what? You couldn’t understand, in fact, you weren’t the wrong one.  

“Yoon…”  

“And I came here to ask you to come with me. But apparently, my presence isn’t welcome. ”  

And that was the third mistake of the evening.  

Your arm fell limp, the strength with which you kept him lifted completely erased from your body. The tears threatened to burn on your cheeks, but forcefully you chased them back and swallowed the knot in your throat that had formed in a few seconds.  

“It’s a shame that your presence is an ephemeral thing in these weeks. Since you’re never here and you don’t even deem to recognize the fact that I exist and live in this apartment.”  

The air frozen, you saw him inhaled sharply and with your body, you turned towards him. You felt every part of you tense like a string of a violin, your heart was beating so hard to press against your ribcage as it wanted to get out and run away but you were so tired of his attitude that you had exceeded the limit.  

Yoongi looked at you, his mind now completely fogged. He couldn’t figure out why he was wrong, but everyone knew that anger provokes and makes the worst out of any person.  

With quick steps he came up to you, you knew he could never hurt you, but you stepped back and lifted your hand.  

And that hand, open and slightly trembling, was the only stop for Yoongi. He stopped mid-way, feeling his throat going on fire for the desire to yell at you and the bile corrode his chest. He felt hurt, but he didn’t understand how intense your feelings of loneliness and abandonment were. You didn’t feel anymore that feeling of belonging and it was a feeling that you had hoped never to try.  

“Now I understand why everyone ends up hating you, Y/N.”  

And perhaps that was the worst mistake of the evening.  

Your heart took a note of his words, which with hatred were putting their seed. Yes, many people you had given everything had ended up leaving.  

Making you feel like you were the mistake, the wrong side of the story. But Yoongi.. You never thought he could use your past against you.  

Even the fact that was the anger to make him talk was an excuse. He had no excuse.  

“Goodnight, Yoongi,” you hummed and walked out of the kitchen, avoiding touching him as you passed by. The dog followed you, his ears low and the tail between his short and thin legs.  

He knew, unlike his master, how much you were suffering. He perceived it. Yoongi stood in the center of the kitchen, his gaze pointed where you were standing before. His hands began to tremble, but the error he had just made not yet clear for his mind gripped by anger.  

With a sigh, he stepped out of the room and then stormed out of the house, saying that if that was your way of dealing with a discussion, he wouldn’t have been the mature part in the couple.  

The bed greeted your tired body when you threw yourself on it and the sound of the door didn’t surprise you. Sighing you lured your pillow towards you, hiding your face against the soft material and letting the waves of pain begin to hit you. And you collapsed, slowly, accompanied by tears and the first real wound that Yoongi had dealt you.  

~  

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His Royal Fury

Originally posted by tomhiddleston-gifs

Pairing: Loki x Reader (ft. Tony, Steve, Thor, and Natasha)

Content/Warnings: angst; fluff; implied rape

Words: 1570

A/N: This turned out a lot longer than I expected it to, but… it turned out pretty well. I went a little away from the anon request but it basically follows what was asked:

a Loki x reader imagine where reader is basically getting harassed and she doesn’t tell Loki, and when he finds out he’s furious? Something with the prompt “did he touch you?” and it ends with the guy who harassed reader getting caught by a very angry Loki and lots of cuddling and fluff

Enjoy, guys!


You hadn’t been sure about Loki at first. When he had first moved into Stark Tower - or Avengers Tower, as it was now referred to - you made an effort to avoid the younger Asgardian prince as much as possible. He couldn’t be trusted, and it was as simple as that. At least, you thought it was.

The two of you had bonded late one night, when everyone else was asleep. You had a nightmare, and had taken to wandering the tower, stumbling upon Loki in the library. The two of you had bonded over your mutual love for books, and an uneasy friendship had formed. And from that uneasy friendship, over the course of a rocky few weeks which turned slowly into a smoother few months, something beautiful bloomed between you and Loki. Yes, he still had issues, but you helped him through them. You helped him realize that there were better ways to solve problems then through violence.

You helped him learn how to love again.

Loki was a perfect gentleman, and all that a person could ask for in a boyfriend. Despite his reputation, he was sweet and loving. He cared about you, you were his love and his redemption, and he’d be damned before he let anything happen to you. And if he found out someone was hurting you, well… he’d make them wish for something as sweet as pain.

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Idiot (Steve Harrington x Hopper!Reader)

Originally posted by chiennsis

Summary: Steve Harrington is an idiot. You know this. Your friends know this. Even your dad knows this. But that doesn’t make him any less cute.

Based on @myteenwolf-world Request:  You’re Hopper’s daughter and everytime Steve tries to talk to you he manages to embarrass himself. You think he’s cute and when he comes over to your house one afternoon, he is greeted by your dad and it’s really awkward. 

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Hopper!Reader

Word Count: 2,752

Author’s Note: Ok, so I got *WAY* too into researching Hopper and his family for this, and I’m definitely coming back to write another Hopper!Reader because I love that character. Thank you so much for putting me on that train. 

Warnings: Language. Underage drinking.


Steve Harrington was a bit of an idiot.

You had known this for years; it was a constant source of amusement for you and your friends since eighth grade. But for some reason, senior year, the boy decided to really pull out all the stops. Whenever you saw him, he was either tripping or running into something or answering the completely wrong question. If you had to guess, it had something to do with the fact that Nancy Wheeler was no longer around to help him. And that boy needed some help. Two months later, and it was all he could do just to keep himself together. And he wasn’t doing that good of a job at it. Especially if this basketball game was any indication.

“This is just sad,” Ally remarked from where she leaned forward on her knees. “It’s more like a massacre than a basketball game.” She shook her head.

You snorted, looking back down at the game. During your break, you and your friends often found yourself down in the gym, watching the boys play sports. “We should know what we’re cheering for,” Cathy had argued with the gym teacher. Whether or not he bought into her argument or the fact that whenever the three of you were in the bleachers, the boys went just a little bit harder, he allowed you to continue to come down to the gym.

“You don’t actually watch the games, do you?” Cathy asked, shooting a look at Ally. “We’re here because it’s Shirts vs. Skins, not to become avid Tigers fans.”

“I can enjoy the game and the view,” Ally defended. “All I’m saying is I’d rather watch Jason Danvers move his ass than fall on it.”

Cathy scoffed and rolled her eyes. You just smiled and shook your head, watching as Billy Hargrove fouled yet another Shirt on his way to yet another lay-up. His team cheered as he looked up and pointed at Cathy. Cathy wiggled her fingers at him. Out of habit, your glance moved over to Steve Harrington. He was bending over, holding onto his knees and breathing deeply but looking up at you. You shot him a smile and rolled your eyes, shooting a glance at Billy. You looked back over at Steve, and he grinned at you. There were shouts and moments later, Steve got pegged in the side of the shoulder with a basketball, the ball bouncing up into his head and knocking him over a couple of steps. You clapped a hand over your mouth to stifle your giggle. Ally and Cathy didn’t bother with the hand as they roared with laughter. Steve picked up the basketball and threw it back at a teammate, who caught it in his stomach, laughing. Steve didn’t look back up at the stands, but focused back on the game, his face bright red. You removed your hand from your mouth, and put it back down at your side, a smile still on your lips.

Yeah, Steve Harrington was an idiot.

But at least he was a damn cute one.


People assumed that since your dad was Chief of Police, you didn’t party.

People didn’t know your dad.

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being the elder henderson sibling [headcanon]

Originally posted by strangerthingscentral


Requested?: Yee my dudes. Anon: “I absolutely loved your Wheeler and Byers middle child imagine! can you make one for Dustin’s older sister? Love your blog btw “ (idk who you are but i’m glad you enjoy my blog <3)

Pairing: Dustin Henderson x reader (platonic, family), Steve Harrington x reader (romantic oops) 

((btw guys if you’re getting annoyed at all of these turning out as romantic Steve things, pls let me know))

((once again, season 2 below the cut))


  • you were Claudia Henderson’s pride and joy
  • well you were, until Dustin was born
  • but you couldn’t complain
  • Dusty was your pride and joy as well
  • you were always so supportive of him 
  • ((especially whenever him and the rest of the party won the annual science fair))
  • you would always help Mr. Clarke with the AV club
  • the fact that you were always around meant that you were always the one constant in the Party’s lives.
  • they loved you
  • ((you were the og group mom))
  • no matter how cool you were to The Party, you were unapproachable at school
  • you thought it was because you were a certified Loser™
  • in reality, it was because you intimidated everybody
  • you were so pretty and kind and smart that people saw you as unapproachable.
  • well, everybody except your closest friend
  • ((aka Jonathan Byers))
  • you always had your nose stuck in a new book, oblivious to the awestruck glances aimed at you.
  • Jonathan would always snort at the glances you’d get from half of the basketball team ((yes, including Steve Harrington [pre-Nancy]))
  • when Will went missing, you swear you felt your heart break
  • but you didn’t cry because Dustin was distraught and he needed someone to comfort him.
  • in fact, you comforted all of The Party, Jonathan, and Joyce.
  • you caught Dustin sneaking out of the house to go look for Will one night
  • instead of ratting him out to your mom, you went along because “there’s no way I’m leaving a dumbass like you all alone in the woods.”
  • The Party was relieved to have you tagging along
  • you made them feel safe.
  • you’re skeptical about Eleven at first, and take Lucas’s side for a while.
  • soon, you begin to see that the young girl can actually be a highly useful asset.
  • the next day, you find yourself being extremely surprised.
  • when you hear that Barb is missing, you’re pretty rattled.
  • first Will, now Barb.
  • what was happening?
  • after school, you find your way to the parking lot
  • you see Steve and his little crowd mocking Jonathan 
  • you approach them right as they break him camera.
  • pissed off, you begin shouting obscenities at them, shocking everyone.
  • sweet, beautiful, caring (Y/N) Henderson knew how to curse?
  • when Carol starts making remarks about Jonathan, you lunge at her.
  • Tommy intervenes and before you know it, his fist has met your face.
  • everyone stops.
  • they all stare at you 
  • you simply crack your neck and deliver an equally devastating blow to Tommy’s face.
  • ((at this point, Steve is feeling guilty because he just knows he’s fallen in love with you but Nancy is still in the picture))
  • but damn can you take a punch 
  • Tommy is on the ground, in pain, and you simply grab Jonathan’s hand and threaten the little group.
  • your foot hovers over Tommy’s crotch before you speak.
  • if you ever pull a little stunt like that again, you can say goodbye to any future children you were planning on having,Tommy. you too, Harrington.”
  • Steve simply stares at you and Jonathan groans because he knows what that look means.
  • he’s seen it too many times on his brother’s face and on the faces of half the school’s basketball team.
  • Steve. Is. Absolutely. Smitten.
  • eventually you find out about Will’s body being found.
  • you reluctantly head home to be with Dustin…
  • …who sends you right back to the Byers residence, insisting that Jonathan needs you more than he does.
  • although hesitant, you listen to your little brother and spend the night with Jon.
  • you help calm Joyce down when they have to go identify the body.
  • you eventually tag along with Nancy and Jonathan when they go looking for the monster.
  • you notice Nancy is missing and follow her into the Upside Down.
  • when the monster chases you, you make sure she goes back through the tree first. 
  • you barely make it through, the Demogorgon clamping onto your leg and leaving you injured.
  • you refuse to go to the hospital, and Nancy proceeds to patch you up. 
  • when you go to the store to buy your weapons, you’re the one who sees the movie matinee first.
  • you try to keep Nancy away from it, but she sees it anyways.
  • when she runs off, you grab Jonathan’s hand and tug him along.
  • oh look, Nancy the slut and the creepy couple”
  • “shut up Carol. just because Tommy is the only one who wants to fuck you doesn’t mean you have to be bitter all the time.”
  • Tommy takes a step towards you but stops once you arch an eyebrow. 
  • Steve looks at your hand in Jonathan’s and starts talking shit.
  • really Nance? you had to go after Byers? I bet you, him, and Henderson there had a lot of fun together eh?”
  • you’re the first one who swings and although Tommy is urging Steve to fight back, he knows that he can’t hit you.
  • so he hits Jonathan instead.
  • you wind up at the police station
  • where you eventually spill the whole story to Hopper and Joyce, showing them your wound as proof. 
  • when you contact The Party, you’re the one who has to speak to them 
  • you’re the only one that they truly trust.
  • you don’t want to leave them but Nancy insists that she and Jonathan need your help.
  • Jonathan is your best friend and although you don’t know Nancy that well, she is a sweet girl.
  • so you agree and go with them. 
  • when Steve arrives, you’re the one who opens the door and tries to keep him out. 
  • eventually, the Demogorgan arrives and you have to keep it away from Steve, who is unarmed.
  • when he helps you fight back, you realize that maybe (just maybe) he isn’t a self-centered, big-haired douchebag.
  • fast-forward to the end of the fight 
  • everyone is safe, except El.
  • although you’re sad that she’s gone, you know it’s nothing compared to what Mike is feeling. 
  • when Will awakens, you’re right by his side
  • along with the rest of The Party.
  • and when Jonathan sees the way Will looks at you, with that dazed, dreamy look,
  • he knows that things might turn out okay.
  • you hug Dustin tightly and tell him how much you love him
  • Dustin whispers the same things back to you before pushing you off and rubbing his neck in embarrassment
  • the rest of the evening is spent in comfort as you all realize that you still have each other.

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