Another Friday night watching TV and a little mind altering at the end.
Wake up and decide to make a POF profile again.
I can’t shake the memories of being disappointed that I didn’t somehow die in my sleep every single morning while married.
Who am I? I have no idea 🤔
What do I like to talk about? I don’t really know that either 🤔
Am I looking for friendship, dating, relationship? I just don’t want to be the 3rd wheel when going out with my friend and his wife. Maybe someone to talk to. But not limited to that either. Why set limits or expectations?
I used a recent pic for a profile pic but all the recommended matches don’t look the same from pic to pic
you were pretty good at that thing, why'd you stop doing it?
I get extremely anxious when I think about doing something I might possibly succeed at because I base my self-worth on my achievements and other people's approval, I am afraid because I know I will never be able to live up to my own unrealistic expectations, I hate making mistakes because they make me feel worthless, I take negative feedback too personally, I feel immense guilt over not doing things that I've been avoiding which just makes me avoid them more, I feel ashamed and inadequate due to how difficult it is for me to stay committed to anything, I'm worried that I'll just end up disappointing myself and the entire world, and I am convinced that if I failed I would literally die.
idk i guess i've just been kinda busy lol
And even if the last scene with Marco not remembering his password of his laptop seems unsettling I think it was there to remind us that what happened to Marco in that dimension DID happened, but he is in the process to going back to his 14 yearls old self. His mental state is not going to return to his normal age as fast as his body, because if that happened, it would have been disturbing for him.
The next scene is what, at least for me, proves my point
That means he did remembers the burger, that he bought that and that’s why he says “Still warm”. This is showing us that he is starting to going back to his old mental self.
“Alright, let’s go for a walk”
He still remembers this and it’s not doubtfoul of what the puppies want and he is doing it with a smile. He is sure of what he needs to do, something that didnt happened with the laptop. I think by this moment confirms that he is back to being 14-years-old Marco.
So this scene is actually shwoing us a slower process of him regaining his 14-old mind. Mind and body are different things and I think this is very realistic in the point of handling differently a body change with a mental change. You cant just show two different realities to someone an expect them to addapt quickly to them. It took a little more time that his body, but he is back to his teenage mental state.
His memories of what happened in those 16 years will go away? Probably not. But he isn’t going to remember it as “what-i-am-now” but a “what-i-can probably-be” more likely scenario. That he can have a future if he proposes things.
With the experience he gained, he is going to enjoy his teenage life with his friends and family.
It is May and the nights blend together like butter and honey or peaches and cream, but not both. Which is to say, nothing is going how I thought it would. This is last June in reverse. The boxes are filling themselves. I am sleeping next to the packing tape. The old hurt is spilling out everywhere. My heart is buzzing again. My heart is a wasp’s nest. My heart is a monument to absence. A postcard that says: YOU WERE HERE ONCE, BUT YOU’RE NOT ANYMORE. All of my dreams are about being weightless. Leaving the heaviness outside and praying for rain in Texas. I put my regret into a box and write FREE TO A GOOD HOME on the side of it. I still hope everyone who walks by has the good sense not to pick it up. I am waiting for someone other than myself to call this predictable. To tell me it had to go this way. To say, I DON’T KNOW WHAT YOU REALLY EXPECTED.
SEPARATION IN THE AMERICAN SOUTH by Trista Mateer
What are your thoughts on people who unfollow you?
Can’t say I give much thought to them, I literally never know when someone follows or unfollows me! My philosophy is, if you enjoy my content that’s awesome! If you don’t, that’s fine too, I completely understand I’m not for everyone! I always consider myself blessed with the people who appreciate me, whether that be a small or large crowd, because I never expected support in the first place! It’s all just so much fun, and I always am honored by any support and love I get!
you do a jimin fanfic or something?? Where she has a one night stands with
jimin and has feelings for him and in the morning she realise he is her new
Pairing: Jimin x Reader
Warnings: language, sex, drinking
Word Count: 4275(woops)
Authors Note: Some smut for Jimin (my first
bias before Jungkook snatched me lmao). I hope you enjoy it and that it was as
good as you asked for! I got a bit carried away lol, but I hope you like it nonetheless. Let me know if there are errors, feedback is
appreciated, and happy reading! ^^
♡ Summary: It has been nearly a year since you started writing anonymous letters to Jungkook, giving him words of encouragement behind the thin mask of a paper. He never considered you as a possible suspect behind these letters, because you were nothing more than a best friend. And you couldn’t put all the blame on him either, after all, you were too afraid to confess in fear of tarnishing your precious friendship.
I am not a people’s person
I live on my own accord
I don’t really care about anybody else most of the time
But I get hurt when they don’t care about me
Half the time I don’t even realise that I hurt someone
And many times I do it on purpose
Expecting them to be okay with it
I expect them to come back to me
To be with me the way they have always been
Even after hurting them
I know it is selfish and I know I am selfish
But that is how I have always been
There is no changing me
A/N: I strayed away from the request a bit just to follow a story line that I didn’t really plan, tbh (it just happened, I’m srry). I also switched up my style majorly for this just as an exercise, it’s in 3rd person and all but lemme know what you think and whether this is better, worse, or somewhere in between.
you write about Jughead getting a call that the reader just got shitfaced at a
party so he has to come get her and take care of her
Peter’s eyes fluttered open and he sat up, still in that shipping container. “Ow, my head.” He rubbed his head as he stood to his feet.
“You appear to have a mild concussion,” the suit said.
“Hey,” he looked around the container. “Where am I right now?”
“I am not sure. The walls are hindering my sensors.”
“Wait a minute,” he whispered. “They must have hijacked the truck and taken me to their evil lair. Okay, suit lady. We are going to have to fight our way out of this one.”
He turned and counted down to three before slamming his body into the doors of the container, breaking them open. He quickly stood up and took in his new surroundings. It was just a brightly lit warehouse with hundreds of shipping containers like the one Peter was in.
“What is this place?” Peter asked, noticing nobody was around. “Suit lady, where am I?”
“You’re in the most secure facility on the eastern seaboard, The Damage Control Deep Storage Vault.”
“No!” Peter said, looking at the giant cemented walls around him. He placed his hands on his head and groaned in frustration. “Seriously?”
He went over to what seemed to be the large door and tried prying it open. “The door will most likely remained closed until morning,” the suit stated. Peter kicked the wall gently.
“Morning?” He made himself a makeshift hammock out of his webbing between two shipping containers and lay in it. “Hey suit lady? I kinda feel bad calling you suit lady, you know? I should probably give you a name, like Y/N.” He immediately shook the thought from his head. “No, no, no, god that’s–that’s weird.”
He jumped down and lazily swung from one of his webs. He was so impatient, it was driving him crazy. Why wouldn’t the door just open already?
“What about Karen?” He let go of the web and fell onto the ground softly.
“You can call me Karen. If you would like,” she said happily. Peter hung upside down and read from his textbook.
“Hey, Karen. What else can this suit do?” A second later, webbed wings appeared from under his arms. He gasped in disbelief. “What?”
He gasped down at his web shooters, now observing them and all the different combinations. He let out a hum and put on his Decathlon yellow jacket uniform.
“Maybe we should run that refresher course,” he said to himself. He had plenty of time.
“Ricochet web,” Karen said.
“Ricochet webs,” Peter repeated. He tried it out and the web shot into a ball, hitting the wall and bouncing straight back at him. He quickly ducked.
“Slender webs.” Long webs shot out from his wrist, falling to the ground. “Web grenade.” Peter tossed one to the wall, yelling the name before it exploded into webs. He was having fun.
After his refresher course, Peter lay on top of one of the shipping containers, staring at the ceiling. “Should I tell Y/N that I am Spiderman?”
“Whos’s Y/N?” He chuckled to himself, smiling like a giddy schoolboy under the mask. “She’s uh–she’s the best. She’s awesome. She is just a girl who goes to my school. We kinda grew up together. And yeah–I really wanna tell her but it’s kinda weird, you know? Hey, I-I’m Spiderman.”
“What’s weird about that?”
“Well what if she is expecting someone like Tony Stark? I mean, imagine how disappointed she would be when she sees me,” Peter explained.
“Well, if I was her, I wouldn’t be disappointed at all,” Karen said sweetly.
“Thanks Karen. It’s really nice to have someone to talk to.” He looked around. “Hey, how long have we been here anyways?”
“Thirty-seven minutes,” Karen stated.
“What?” Peter sat up in frustration. “Thirty-seven minutes! That is insane! I cannot take this anymore. I gotta get out of here.” He jumped down from the container and went back into the one he came from. “There has got to be something in here that I can use.”
He dug through whatever the bird man put in his backpack, pulling miscellaneous weapons and items from it that could probably be sold for a fortune. He suddenly recognized something and pulled it out.
“Huh? Hey look, its just like the glowy thing,” he said, picking up the weird looking thing.
“That glowy thing is an explosive Chitauri energy core,” Karen replied. Peter stood to his feet and dropped it immediately.
“Woah! Woah! Woah! You mean we have been carrying around a bomb?”
“It would require radiation to transform it into an explosive state,” Karen said as Peter pulled out his phone to call Ned but there was no connection.
“No, no, no, no, no.” He grabbed all his things and exited the container. He webbed himself onto the wall. He banged his fists on the wall in attempts to get it open. Then he glanced over at a box on the wall. “Karen, you have to help me open that time lock.”
He hung upside down as he tried to solve the combination to open the door of the vault. He pulled out his calculator and hooked it up to the wires. Then he pulled out a notepad and paper and began writing equations.
“Okay Karen, lower the voltage and run it,” he said, punching it into the calculator.
“Okay, we are just going to have to try every sequence,” he explained, crossing off the top one.
Back at the hotel, Ned pace around the room. Y/N knocked on their door and he jumped in surprise. “Ned, Peter. We are going to be late.” Ned sighed and ran over to the bed, grabbing the glowy thing and shoving it into his pocket before leaving the room.
“Initiating trial two hundred and forty-seven,” Karen said as Peter typed in the numbers. The vault door began to open.
“It worked! It worked!” He swung out of there and jumped onto a traveling truck, allowing it to take him in the direction he desired.
At the decathlon, Mr. Harrington numbered off all the kids. “Where’s Peter?” Y/N looked up with saddened eyes. “Flash, I guess you’re up.” The team continued to switch out students as the decathlon went on. Near the end, Mr. Harrington chose the final five. It was up to them to win.
Ned, Liz, Y/N, Michelle, and Flash all took their seats on stage. Another school’s final five students entered the stage on the other side. “We have now entered sudden death. The next answer, wins the championship,” the lady announced. The question was given and Michelle reached out and rang her bell. Everyone looked her way. “Midtown Tech?”
“Zero,” she stated.
“That is correct,” the team rejoiced. They all leaned over and hugged Michelle before being awarded with the trophy.
“Karen, you have to get me to the decathlon as fast as possible. I have to be there. I cannot let Y/N down,” Peter said as he rode on the back of a truck.
“Sure thing, just tell me where it is?”
“Right across the street from the Washington Monument,” he said. He called Ned but he didn’t answer, probably because he was still at the decathlon. “Ned, call me back! The glowy thing is a bomb!”
In celebration of their win, Mr. Harrington took the kids to the Washington Monument. Flash made his way over to Y/N, nudging her arm with a smirk playing on his face.
“I told you we didn’t need Peter.”
“You didn’t even answer a single question,” she said. Flash rolled his eyes and walked ahead of her, the trophy in his hands. Everyone made their way inside, all except Michelle, who chose to stay on the ground.
Ned pulled out his phone and saw all of Peter’s missed calls. He decided to call him back. “Oh Ned, you’re alive!”
“Peter! Are you okay?” Ned whispered.
“Ned, Ned, Ned. The glowy thing! The glowy thing!”
“Don’t worry, its safe,” Ned insisted whilst putting his backpack through the scanner.
“No, Ned. Listen–”
“You missed the decathlon! We are at the Washington Monument–” before Ned could finish his sentence, Y/N had grabbed Ned’s phone from his ear and put it to her own.
“Peter? Is that you?”
“Oh, hey Y/N,” Peter said.
“Is that Y/N?” Karen asked, momentarily pausing their call to talk to Peter.
“Please put Ned back on the phone,” he said to Y/N. He jumped off the truck and began running towards the Washington Monument.
“You should tell her how you feel,” Karen suggested. Thank god, Y/N couldn’t hear her.
“You are so lucky we won,” Y/N told Peter. “I wanna be mad but I am more worried. What is going on with you recently?”
“Y/N, I have to talk to Ned. It is really important,” Peter pleaded.
The security guard told her to put the phone on the belt so it could be scanned. She did so and as soon as it entered the monitors, the connection was lost.
“Y/N? Y/N! Dammit,” Peter cursed as he ran as fast as he could. The team got onto the elevator and began riding it up to the top. Peter continued to run and he threw his backpack onto a tree, webbing it there so no one would steal it.
As they neared the top, the security lady began to explain some information about the monument. In Ned’s backpack, the glowy thing began to glow even more and soon ripped a hole through his backpack. It shot straight up into the ceiling of the elevator, as it exploded. The elevator stopped.
Peter made it to the base of the monument and looked up to see the explosion from the outside, a layer of bricks bursting from the monument and falling to the ground. “No, no, no, no, no,” Peter said. “Karen, what is going on up there?”
“The Chitauri core has detonated and caused severe structural damage to the elevator,” she said.
“My friends are up there,” Michelle pointed out.
“What? Uh, don’t worry ma'am. Everything is going to be okay,” Peter insisted. He ran off and launched himself off the ground, landing on the side of the monument. He began to climb it as fast as he could.
In the elevator, Ned dropped his backpack onto the floor. Everyone looked up to see the damage, the ceiling of the elevator was hanging on by a few threads. A few false moves would send the elevator plummeting to the ground. “Stay calm everyone,” Liz said.
“We are all going to die here,” Abe noted.
“Nobody is going to die,” Y/N reassured them.
On the outside, Peter climbed and climbed. “Estimating ten minutes before catastrophic detonation,” Karen told Peter.
“I know that was scary but don’t worry. Our safety systems are working,” the lady in charge told them.
“Safety systems are completely failing,” Karen said.
“We are very safe in here,” the lady reassured them.
“The occupants are in eminent moral danger,” Karen added. Peter panted heavy as he forced himself to go higher and higher.
“I am going as fast as I can!”
Inside the elevator, they all carefully opened the emergency hatch. They sent one kid up, seeing as though they were only a few feet away from the door. The security guards at the top opened the newly shattered door and reached down to grab one of Peter’s classmates, helping her to safety.
“You now have one hundred and twenty five seconds until catastrophic failure,” Karen announced.
“Unexpected motion has caused the deterioration to escalate,” Karen said, giving Peter a scan of the elevator.
“How do we get it?”
“Activating riconoscesse drone.” A small drone came out of the emblem of his suit, looking him in the eyes before flying away.
“Has that been there this whole time?”
“Locating optimal entry points. Proceed to southwest window,” Karen instructed.
“I am on my way.” Peter jumped onto the other side of the building and continued to climb until he had it to the top. He pressed his head to the building and held on for dear life. He slowly turned around, his back on the building. He leaned forward and looked down before getting scary and moving back.
“What is wrong? You reached the southwest window. Why are you hesitating?”
“I-I have never been this high before,” he slowly scooted his way over to the ledge of the window.
“You have also not reinstalled your parachute so a fall from this height would mostly be lethal,” Karen pointed out. Peter turned around again and let his foot drop down to hit the window.
“Why is it not breaking?” He asked in frustration.
“It is a special kind of ballistic glass. You will have to create more momentum.” Peter webbed the building and leaned back, he pushed off the monument and hit his feet against the window. A small crack appeared on the glass.
He barely even noticed the U.S helicopter fly towards the monument. “Identify yourself,” the ordered over the coms. Peter looked back at them, seeing the guns in their hands.
“My friends are up there! My friends are in there! Stop,” Peter begged.
“Return to the ground immediately!”
Inside the elevator, they had Liz go next, hoisting her up out of the elevator. The only people left where Flash, Ned, Y/N and Mr. Harrington. On the outside of the building, Peter closed his eyes.
“Karen,” he said, blocking out the constant calls of the officers behind him.
“Give me a scan of the elevator. Tell me if Y/N is inside.”
“Sure thing.” He waited a second for her to reply.
“Is she up there? Is she safe? Is she okay?”
“I’m sorry, Peter. She’s inside the elevator,” Karen said sorrowfully.
“No, no, no, no, no.” Peter climbed higher, reaching the very top of the monument. He looked back at the helicopter.
The security guards helped Flash out of the elevator. The elevator jointed, another wire breaking in the process. The pulled him out as fast as they could.
“I’m gonna die,” Peter said to himself before jumping off the building. He used his web wings to fly over the helicopter then he webbed the rail on the helicopter ands swung into the window of the monument, breaking it open. The wired on the elevator snapped and it began to fall with the people still inside.
Everyone screamed as Peter webbed a ricochet web, allowing it to bounce off the walls of the elevator shaft and travel down towards the elevator. It grabbed onto the elevator and Peter struggled to keep it up, his feet propped up against the doors to steady himself from falling as well.
“I did it!” Suddenly the doors broke and Peter plummeted down towards the elevator. The elevator stopped on some debris but as soon as Peter fell onto the floor of the elevator, it broke through the debris and continued to fall.
He quickly webbed the ceiling of the shaft and dug his feet into the ceiling of the elevator, allowing it to stop. As he hung upside down, he looked around at the people in the elevator and his eyes settled on Y/N.
“H-Hey. H-How are you doing,” he said cockily. “It’s alright. I got you. It’s going to be alright.”
“Yes!” Ned exclaimed, almost jumping around.
“Hey. Hey. Hey. Hey. Hey. Quit moving around,” Peter pleaded.
“Oh, sorry.” Peter slowly began to pull of the web, easing the elevator back up to the top of the monument. The webbing strained against the roof of the shaft. Soon, the elevator reached the top and the security guards helped everyone out of it.
“Alright, this is your stop. Everyone get out,” Peter said, knowing he couldn’t hold it for much longer. YN was the last of the get out and as soon as she moved, Peter’s feet broke through the ceiling of the elevator.
Y/N screamed and quickly jumped. Peter held out his hand and webbed her wrist, holding onto her as the elevator disappeared deeper into the shaft.
“You’re okay. You’re okay,” Peter reassured her. He pulled her up by the web and grabbed her hand. “Its okay, I got you. You’re going to be okay.” He helped her to safety. Everyone was safe.
Y/N stepped back and looked the Spiderman in the eyes with disbelief. Her mouth stood slightly agape. He gently let go of her hand.
“Is everyone okay?” Y/N nodded her head.
“This is your chance, Peter. Kiss her,” Karen ordered. Before he could do anything, the webbing broke and Peter fell down the elevator shaft. Everyone watched his body fall.
March is adorable and id do anything for him. this is true. but besides how cute he is, this is only half of it! Birds are loud. Even for his tiny size, you can hear him screaming across the house. Birds are also extremely smart. while this is a good thing, it can also be annoying. Theyll figure out ways to trick you and do things they arent supposed to. they’ll chew your things- important documents, furniture, even you. theyre messy- i sweep 3 times a day with just one cockatiel. They are like toddlers. they will have days where they scream and scream and bite and hiss and wont listen to anything you say. You can’t just leave them in their cage, expect them to be quiet when you want them to, then take them out and have them sing a song perfectly. you need to spend a lot of time with them.
I’m not trying to discourage anyone from getting a bird- i just am saying that you have to know what to expect. yes birds are cute, but don’t go out and get one because you see a cute video online. someone worked with that bird for hours teaching it that song or trick. the video is just capturing a small moment in time. adopt a feathered friend. they make great companions as long as you have the time and patience to work with them.
Jimin silently stuffs a spoonful into his mouth and although he had no appetite, the mere thought of this being something you made is enough to push him to forcefully swallow it. He thinks perhaps if he ate enough of it, it could help fill the vague emptiness he felt in his chest but he knew that only one thing could do that and that was you.
“So, he went to the ball with this Mina girl?” Solji
asks, her voice slightly fuzzy over the phone speaker.
You let out a low hum of agreement, sinking down onto your bed, the phone still pressed to your ear.
“Because she asked?”
“Yes,” You sigh, setting your phone next to your head after selecting the loudspeaker option on your screen.
“And you had a week to ask him to the ball but you
“Well, I mean… yeah… but whatever, that’s not my
point,” You groan. “My point is that he slept with Mina.”
“And is that a surprise to you? You really can’t blame him
can you?” She asks. “He probably waited for you to ask him out to the
ball and when you didn’t, he assumed you weren’t interested and went for
someone else who was.”
“But I am interested,” You grumble, running your hand over your face in frustration.
Imagine being a maid and the prince, Dean Winchester, falling in love with you.
“Would you like anything else of me, your highness?” you asked, eyes casted to the ground.
You heard the prince let out a heavy sigh and footstep come closer to you “Yes, one little thing that means the world to me: call me Dean, please.”
“Your majesty, I- I-” you felt all words get caught in your throat when you felt him close to you. Two fingers were placedunder your chin as he slowly lifted your face to look at him.
“(Y/n)” he sighed sadly, giving you a pleading look with his eyes. Those green beautiful orbs that had your heart beating wildly inside your chest but you had to make sure not only that it didn’t show but also that you didn’t feel. Hard, yes, but you had to force it all down not just for the sake of your life – if the king found out anything was going on he could execute you any moment he wanted to – but also your sanity. The prince seemed to be taking up not just your living days but also nights and dreams. Sure you were his main maid, you took care of him in ways that other maids would only dream of – which didn’t make your case any easier, especially with these wild feelings you had for him – so you got to spend a lot of time with him but you knew these things you felt – this love you had for him was simply forbidden. And he wasn’t making things easier.
“Please, I’ve told you so many times to call me Dean. It just- it-” he let out a heavy breath “It kills me, having you so close to me, looking at me with those beautiful sparkly eyes and shy smile that makes my heart go crazy, yet so far away when you call me ‘prince’ or 'your highness’.” he clenched his jaw, shaking his head.
“But you are-” your voice was shaky and low, but you wouldn’t take your eyes off of him.
“I am.” he said more sternly, making your eyes widen for a second “I am your prince, yes I know it. You have reminded me of that a thousand times and even when I want to forget it I fucking can’t because of everybody else saying it. But I don’t care, I don’t care anymore. Why cannot I not have you if I am the so called prince? I can be granted every other wish I have, even if I want a land so far away they will fight to give it to me, but I can’t be granted the simplest yet most important wish of all? You?”
You swallowed the lump in your throat, feeling tears well up in your eyes “It is forbidden. If your father finds out-”
“Who says he has to find out though?” he smirked softly and your eyebrows shot up.
“My prince, you cannot feel such a thng for me. I am- I am merely a maid.” you held your breath as you fidgeted with your hands.
“And that takes away from how much of a gorgeous woman you are?” he tilted his head to the side as he now cupped your cheek, rubbing a thumb over it “I don’t think so.”
“But you- you can’t be-”
“What, interested in you?” he smiled “Princess-” he said the word in such a way that made your heart skip a beat “I am far more than just interested. And if you want to know what I really think about my father’s rules then- just stay the night with me and I’ll show you.”
“But if someone walks in?” you felt yourself running out of air as his face inched closer and you were frozen in your place.
“Just like the rules: Screw them.” not what you’d expect from a prince but he was far more than just that anymore.
Following the attack on the Institute Alec discovers Magnus put him in his will.
A few days following the attack on
the Institute Alec went to the Hotel Dumort to apologize to Raphael for his
earlier behavior. He felt wrong in his actions and Magnus was close with Raphael, so he wanted to make sure everything was settled between them without
any hard feelings either way. He certainly hadn’t expected to find out what he
When Alec had appeared at the door,
the vampires in Raphael’s clan watched him warily, but made no attempt to stop him from entering despite having injured their clan leader only days ago. He assumed Raphael had instructed them not to hurt him, probably for Magnus or Izzy’s sake more than his own.
When Alec arrived at Raphael’s office it became readily apparent that Raphael had entirely misread the situation. He believed Alec
had come to discuss something that Magnus had told him about days before. And
in that moment Alec discovered that Magnus had gone to Raphael the day following
the attack on the Institute and told Rafael that he had created a new will.
Raphael even showed him a copy of
the will. There were only four recipients in the will. Raphael, Catarina, Tessa, and Alec. But practically everything was to go to Alec. Most of his fortune,
his homes in the far reaches of the world, including his New York loft, and
almost all his possessions. The remainder of his fortune, which was still a
rather hefty sum, was to be given to Raphael, Catarina and Tessa and the remainder of his
possessions, mostly magical items and spell books, were to be given to
Catarina. Magnus had also given Raphael a letter to give to Alec in the event
of his death, which Raphael had refused to give to him.
***PLEASE NOTE: This is a series. You can find all parts linked below.***
Pairing: Lafayette x Reader
Requested?: Yes, it was!
Prompt: “Oh sorry I got so excited I didn’t think to read the tags.. I’m a ditz sometimes. Number 7 or 11 with Lafayette x reader then. Sorry! (11. I found you bloody and bruised in a strange alleyway, so far from home.)” (P.S. you’re not a ditz my friend)
A/N: so I was given a sentence for a drabble and this happened, haha. I wasn’t too sure how I felt about it but @secretschuylersister convinced me to post this so enjoy!
You stepped out the back of the club for some fresh air. Being a bartender was hell when it was a Friday night and everyone in the city wanted to come to the “hottest club in the tri-state area”. You install a few blacklights and suddenly everyone is amazed that their white shirt glows in the dark. You rolled your eyes, pushing the loud, drunk customers to the back of your mind as you stretched. You froze when you heard a groan to your left. However, when you turned your head, nobody was there. You shrugged it off, leaning on the brick wall behind you when another groan came from the same direction.
“Help…me…” a voice croaked out.
You walked down the alley, pausing when you found a man laying in the middle of a pile of full trash bags.
“Oh my god! Are you okay?” You asked before you could think about it.
Of course he isn’t okay, in the dim lighting of the alley you could see blood, a lot of it, staining the white shirt the man wore. His body language screamed fatigue and his voice was shaky and weak.