i can offically say he loves me

My Puppy | 1

Originally posted by rapnamu

CHAPTER ONE

Chapters: [1][2]

Pairing: Taehyung X Reader-First Person View

Genre & Warnings: SMUT, fluff, pet play. 

Word Count: 4,406

NOTE: Pure Filth. Turn back now if you don’t want to see. Turning Tae Tae into my Fuck Puppy (Thanks, Anon). Soft femdom. Let me tell you, it was an EXPERIENCE writing this, and I am still not perfectly pleased with it. Mostly because I’m never happy with my own smut writing. I had to do so much research, so google probably thinks I’m freaky naughty af. Which I suppose I am considering I wrote this lol. So, for those that are hardcore into this and think I didn’t portray it well enough, I’m sorry, I tried. And I learned quite a bit about myself, like the fact that if I ever get my hands on someone like Tae, I am so going to try this. Now enjoy, and excuse me as I go drench myself in holy water to cleanse myself of sin. 


“You know, I hate the winter. It reminds me of your cold heart.”

My now ex-boyfriend mutters this line, looking into the snowy sky. He sighs loudly and saunters off, without looking back. What a fucking drama queen. I can’t help but snort as I watch him disappear into the light snowfall, and wonder what movie he got that line from.

Cold heart.

I don’t have a cold heart. He was just a damn bore. He never wanted to do anything but watch movies and freaked out if I suggested anything besides missionary. I’ve been thinking about breaking up with him for weeks now but was putting it off because I knew he’d cry. This saved me all the hassle.

Note to self: Don’t date actors.

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tacmc  asked:

Drunk Rhys, Cass, and Az talking about their women when they get home from a night out. PLEASE.

Here you go, BFF. This became much fluffier than I anticipated it would be. Enjoy!
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Collapsing on the couch, Rhysand loosened the topmfew buttons on his shirt. The sleeves were already rolled up, exposing his inked forearms and as he stared at the designs, he could have sworn the swirls were moving.
A can popped up open behind him and turned to see Cassian walking into the living room carrying two beers. Azriel was only a few steps behind him, a glass of scotch in his own hand.
“Don’t you think we’ve had enough?” He asked, even as he took the cold can from his friends hand.
Plopping down next to him, Cass took a large gulp from his own as Azriel took a seat on the fire place. “The girls are off getting primped and pampered at whatever spa Mor took them to. This is our night. Let’s enjoy it.” He held the can in the air, toasting the evening.
Truth be told, their evening had begun about 5 hours ago, in a bar in downtown Velaris. A couple of beers, turned into a few more, which became a couple of shots, and then a few more.
After Ubering home, they elected to just crash at Elain and Azriel’s new home.
As it were, Cassian was staring around the room. “So did you even get a say in the decorating?”
Az just quirked a dark brow at his brother. “What do you mean?”
Cass motioned around the room. “Dude. There’s fucking flowers everywhere.”
Azriel rolled his eyes as Rhys began to chuckle. “Right, or I could decorate my home like you decorated the apartment to surprise Nesta.”
A drunken outright giggle bubbled through Rhys’s lips as he remembered the look on Nesta’s face as they all walked into the apartment for the first time, her unknowing Cass had decorated it with the finest Illyrian war memorabilia he could find. He spent weeks returning and shipping old weapons and documents back their former homes, and soon his own home looked less like a museum and more like the place he’d live with the love of his life.
A set of hazel eyes turned towards Rhys. “And what are you laughing about? That man cave you always bragged about looks pretty good as an artist’s studio I guess.”
Rhys pursed his lips. “Touché,” he said.
The males laughed and fell into a gentle quiet.
“How the hell did we get so lucky?” Azriel whispered, breaking the silence, his speech slightly slurred.
“I don’t know, man,” Cassian said, as usual the most intoxicated of the trio. “But I’ll do anything I can to make Nes happy for the rest of my life.”
The men looked at each other, and the coincidence was not lost on them. The three outcasts who had grown up as brothers had fallen in love with the three most beautiful women who had even walked on this earth.
“There’s this thing that Elain does,” Azriel mused, leaning his elbows on his knees, empty glass between his legs. “Before I come to bed. She’ll get into my side first, and warm it up for me, before scooting to her own side to fall asleep. After I finish my paperwork or whatever I’m doing, every night, without fail, my said of the bed is warm, and my pillow smells like her.” He leaned back on his hands and looked at the ceiling. “It seems stupid, but, I don’t know.” He paused. “No one has ever loved me that much.”
Cassian kicked his boots off and rested his socked feet on the edge of the the coffee table. “Nesta wakes up at 5:15 every single morning to make me coffee.” His brothers’ eyebrows shot up. If there was one thing known about the eldest Archeron sister, it was that she valued her sleep. Cass only nodded. “She wakes up on her own every morning to get up and make me coffee while I’m in the shower. Since we moved in together, there’s been a fresh cup of coffee, made just how I like it, steaming on the bathroom counter, waiting for me when I get out of the shower. And she’s already curled up back in bed, fast asleep.” He stopped at looked at his brothers. “No one has ever loved me that much.”
Rhys smiled, thinking about how three years ago, he’d accidentally spilled his drink on a girl at the New Year’s party his friend was throwing, and today, she was his wife and somehow, her sisters loved his brothers.
“What about you, man?”
Rhys’s head snapped up at the sound of Azriel’s voice. He and Cass were looking at him, the misty haze of the liquor from the night softening his friend’s faces. “What?”
“What does Feyre do to prove that she loves you?” Cassian asked.
Rhysand sat back and crossed his ankle over his knee.
“She does…,” he paused and thought.“Well, everything.” He smiled. “If I have a shit day at the office, I come home to one of my favorite meals without having to say anything. If I’m aggravated at a client, she takes me to the gym to train instead of sitting there and getting angrier and angrier. She’s my other half. It’s not just that she loves me. I’ve never loved anyone that much.”
Cassian held his can out in front of him. “To the Archeron girls. May they never figure out how much better than us they can do.”
With a laugh, the clinked glasses and finished off the rest of their drinks, hearts and dignity intact.

Foxy // Sirius Black // requested

Request : could you do a young!sirius where the reader is american and transfering to hogwarts and he sees her in the train and basically becomes infatuated with her?? maybe you can do a part 2 where they reunite after Azkaban or something too?? + can you do a jealous sirius ?!?

To say I was excited to write this would be an understatement!! I live for Harry Potter and young Sirius, old Sirius, just Sirius in general is what I’m here for. JK Rowling did him so wrong like I cry thinking about it. SO MAKING THIS A MINI SERIES IF PEOPLE LIKE IT. (Taking place in 6th year before he runs away)

And the year is 1976… people seem to forget that they attended Hogwarts in the 70s…

Part Two >>

Requests are closed. xx 

Pairing : Young!Sirius Black x Fem. American Reader

Word Count : Like over 5000….. I got carried away… i just love him sm

Originally posted by imaginesforcharacters

Originally posted by pagewoman

Originally posted by perfectlymeganfox


“So how was your summer, Padfoot?” Remus asked his friend as they made their way through the train, searching for an empty compartment.

Sirius rolled his eyes, “it was shit like it usually is. A boy can only hear how much of a failure he is so many times before it gets old. Like I get it, Regulus is a gem. Let’s throw a parade.”

“You’re always welcome at the Potter household, just so you know. My mum continues to gush about you.” James spoke, a small grin playing at his lips.

The three boys continued searching, not noticing that their raven haired friend stopped and was staring into a compartment. James turned around, realizing that it was too quiet and saw Sirius still frozen in that spot.

“Oi! Padfoot!” James called out, walking back to where his best friend stood.

“What’re you doing, mate?” Potter questioned, Sirius turned to him and let a wide smile take over his features.

“I think I found my new conquest this year.”

James furrowed his eyebrows, before turning to look into the compartment, finding a girl with long hair sitting back with parchment and a quill in her hand. Before he could respond, Sirius opened the compartment door and allowed himself in.

“Pardon me, gorgeous, is this seat taken?”

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New Exerpt

I was confident that Bill would be great at parenting. His father died before Bill was born; he knew how lucky he was to have this chance that his own father never had. Still, a lot of men are thrilled to be dads but not so thrilled about all the work that a child requires. The writer Katha Pollitt has observed how even the most egalitarian relationships can contort under the strain of child rearing, and all of a sudden the mom is expected to do everything, while the dad pitches in here and there. She calls it becoming “gender Republicans”—a nifty phrase, if perhaps a little unfair to all the feminist Republicans out there, who really do exist.
I knew that I had enough energy and devotion for two, if it turned out that Bill wasn’t a co-equal in the child-raising department. But I really hoped that wouldn’t happen. Our marriage had always been a true partnership. Though he was governor and then president—jobs that would seem to “beat” a lot of others, if you were the kind of person who ranked jobs like that—my career was important to me, too. So was my time and, more broadly, my identity. I couldn’t wait to become a mother, but I didn’t want to lose everything else about myself in the becoming. I was counting on my husband not just to respect that but also to join me in guarding against it.
So it was a wonderful thing when Chelsea arrived, and Bill dove into parenting with characteristic gusto. We went to the hospital with Bill clutching the materials from the Lamaze classes we had attended together. When it turned out that Chelsea was breech, he fought to be in the operating room with me and hold my hand during the C-section. Being governor came in handy when he asked to be the first father ever permitted by that hospital to do so. After we brought her home, he handled countless midnight feedings and diaper changes. We took turns making sure the parade of family and friends who wanted to spend time with Chelsea were looked after. As our daughter grew up, we both read her good-night stories. We both got to know her teachers and coaches. Even when Bill became president, he rearranged his schedule as much as he could to have dinner with us nearly every night that he was in Washington. And when he was somewhere else in the world, he’d call Chelsea to talk about her day and go over her homework with her.
Our daughter adored her father more and more. As she entered adolescence, I wondered if that would change at all. I remembered how my own dad and I grew somewhat distant from each other once I became a teenager. I provoked him with a lot of fiery political arguments. He was at a loss to navigate the occasionally stormy seas of teenage girlhood. Would that happen with Chelsea and Bill? As it turned out, no. He lived for their debates; the fiercer the better. He didn’t leave me to deal with the “girl stuff”: heartache, self-esteem, safety. He was right there with us.
Did I handle more of the family responsibilities, especially while Bill was president? Of course. This was something we’d talked through before he ran, and I was more than up for it. But I never felt like I was alone in the work of raising our wonderful daughter. And I know a lot of wives of busy men who would say otherwise. Bill wanted to be a great president, but that wouldn’t have mattered to him if he wasn’t also a great dad.
Every time I see the two of them laugh over some private joke that only they know … every time I overhear a conversation between them, two lightning-quick minds testing each other … every time I see him look at her with love and devotion … I’m reminded again that I chose exactly the right person to have a family with.
My marriage to Bill Clinton was the most consequential decision of my life. I said no the first two times he asked me. But the third time, I said yes. And I’d do it again.
I hesitated because I wasn’t quite prepared for marriage. I hadn’t figured out what I wanted my future to be yet. And I knew that by marrying Bill, I would be running straight into a future far more momentous than any other I’d likely know. He was the most intense, brilliant, charismatic person I had ever met. He dreamed big. I, on the other hand, was practical and cautious. I knew that marrying him would be like hitching a ride on a comet. It took me a little while to get brave enough to take the leap.
We’ve been married since 1975. We’ve had many, many more happy days than sad or angry ones. I know some people wonder why we’re still together. I heard it again in the 2016 campaign: that “we must have an arrangement” (we do; it’s called a marriage); that I helped him become president and then stayed so he could help me become president (no); that we lead completely separate lives, and it’s just a marriage on paper now (he is reading this over my shoulder in our kitchen with our dogs underfoot, and in a minute he will reorganize our bookshelves for the millionth time, which means I will not be able to find any of my books, and once I learn the new system, he’ll just redo it again, but I don’t mind because he really loves to organize those bookshelves).
I don’t believe our marriage is anyone’s business. Public people should be allowed to have private lives, too. But I know that a lot of people are genuinely interested. Maybe you’re flat-out perplexed. Maybe you want to know how this works because you are married and would like it to last 40 years or longer, and you’re looking for perspective. I certainly can’t fault you on that.
I don’t want to delve into all the details, because I really do want to hold on to what’s left of my privacy as much as I can. But I will say this: Bill has been an extraordinary father to our beloved daughter and an exuberant, hands-on grandfather to our two grandchildren. I look at Chelsea and Charlotte and Aidan and I think, We did this. That’s a big deal.
He has been my partner in life and my greatest champion. He never once asked me to put my career on hold for his. He never once suggested that maybe I shouldn’t compete for anything—in work or politics—because it would interfere with his life or ambitions. There were stretches of time in which my husband’s job was unquestionably more important than mine, and he still didn’t play that card. I have never felt like anything but an equal. Bill is completely unbothered by having an ambitious, opinionated, occasionally pushy wife. In fact, he loves me for it.
Long before I thought of running for public office, he was saying, “You should do it. You’d be great at it. I’d love to vote for you.” He helped me believe in this bigger version of myself. Bill was a devoted son-in-law and always made my parents feel welcome in our home. Toward the end of my mother’s life, when I wanted her to move into our house in Washington, he said yes without hesitation. Though I expected nothing less, this meant the world to me. I know so many women who are married to men who—though they have their good qualities—can be sullen, moody, irritated at small requests, and generally disappointed with everyone and everything. Bill Clinton is the opposite. He has a temper, but he’s never mean. And he’s funny, friendly, unflappable in the face of mishaps and inconveniences, and easily delighted by the world—remember those balloons at the convention? He is fabulous company.
We’ve certainly had dark days in our marriage. You know all about them—and please consider for a moment what it would be like for the whole world to know about the worst moments in your relationship. There were times that I was deeply unsure about whether our marriage could or should survive. But on those days, I asked myself the questions that mattered most to me: Do I still love him? And can I still be in this marriage without becoming unrecognizable to myself— twisted by anger, resentment, or remoteness? The answers were always yes. So I kept going.
On our first date, we went to the Yale University Art Gallery to see a Mark Rothko exhibit. The building was closed, but Bill talked our way in. When I think about that afternoon—seeing the art, hearing the stillness all around us, giddy about this person whom I had just met but somehow knew would change my life—it still feels magical, and I feel happy and lucky all over again.
I still think he’s one of the most handsome men I’ve ever known. I’m proud of him: proud of his vast intellect, his big heart, the contributions he has made to the world. I love him with my whole heart. That’s more than enough to build a life on.
The morning after the election, Bill and I both wore purple. It was a nod to bipartisanship (blue plus red equals purple). The night before, I had hoped to thank the country wearing white—the color of the suffragettes—while standing on a stage cut into the shape of the United States under a vast glass ceiling. Instead, the white suit stayed in the garment bag.
After I delivered my concession speech, I hugged as many people in the ballroom as possible—lots of old friends and devoted campaign staffers, many of their faces wet with tears. I was dry-eyed and felt calm and clear. My job was to smile, be strong for everyone, and show America that life went on and our republic would endure. A life spent in the public eye has given me lots of practice at that. I wear my composure like a suit of armor, for better or worse. In some ways, it felt like I had been training for this latest feat of self-control for decades.
After delivering hugs and smiling so long and hard that my face ached, I asked my senior team to go back to our headquarters in Brooklyn and make sure everyone was OK. One final wave to the crowd, and Bill and I got into the backseat of a Secret Service van and were driven away.
I could finally let my smile drain away. We were mostly quiet. Every few minutes, Bill would repeat what he had been saying all morning: “I’m so proud of you.” To that he now added, “That was a great speech. History will remember it.”
I loved him for saying it, but I didn’t have much to say in return. I felt completely and totally depleted. And I knew things would feel worse before they started feeling better.
It takes about an hour to drive from Manhattan to our home in Chappaqua. I absolutely love our old house. It’s cozy, colorful, full of art, and every surface is covered with photos of the people I love best in the world. That day, the sight of our front gate was pure relief to me. All I wanted to do was get inside, change into comfy clothes, and maybe not answer the phone ever again.
I’ll confess that I don’t remember much about the rest of that day. I put on yoga pants and a fleece. Our two sweet dogs followed me from room to room, and at one point, I took them outside and just breathed the cold, rainy air. The question blaring in my head was “How did this happen?” Fortunately, I had the good sense to realize that diving into a campaign postmortem right then would be about the worst thing I could do to myself.
Losing is hard for everyone, but losing a race you thought you would win is devastating. I remember when Bill lost his reelection as governor of Arkansas in 1980. He was so distraught at the outcome that I had to go to the hotel where the election-night party was held to speak to his supporters on his behalf. For a good while afterward, he was so depressed that he practically couldn’t get off the floor. That’s not me. I keep going. I also stew and ruminate. I run through the tape over and over, identifying every mistake—especially those made by me. When I feel wronged, I get mad, and then I think about how to fight back.
On that first day, I just felt tired and empty. The reckoning was still to come.
At some point, we ate dinner. We FaceTimed with our grandchildren, two-year-old Charlotte and her baby brother, Aidan, born in June 2016. I was reassured to see their mom. I knew Chelsea was hurting for me, which in turn hurt to think about, but those kids are an instant mood boost for all of us. We quietly drank them in, that day and every day after. After sleeping hardly at all the night before, I climbed into our bed at midday for a nice, long nap. I also went to bed early that night and slept in the next morning. I could finally do that.
I avoided the phone and email that first day. I suspected, correctly, that I was receiving a virtual avalanche of messages, and I couldn’t quite handle it—couldn’t handle everyone’s kindness and sorrow, their bewilderment and their theories for where and why we had fallen short. Eventually, I’d dive in. But for now, Bill and I kept the rest of the world out. I was grateful for the one billionth time that I had a husband who was good company not just in happy times but sad ones as well.

RFA Reacts to MC Who is Really Oblivious and Innocent

wohoho boi i’m rdy

Yoosung

- I wouldn’t say Yoosung is so much innocent as he is bashful, so he knows things (wink wonk ;* ) but he gets embarrassed easily.
- yOU, ON THE OTHER HAND, HAVE NO REACTION BC U DONT KNOW WHAT HES TALKING ABOUT.
- “Hey sweetie, I’m cold, do you think you could-”
- “Get you a sweater? Ofc baby!!!”
- Yoosung attempt at cuddles #73 resulted in failure
- again
- this guy just needs affection
- it takes him a while but he learns to be a bit more blunt.
- “MC can we cuddle-” BOOM. MC. Right there. Hugs everywhere. Cute kissies. mwa mwa mwa.
- You begin to understand Yoosung’s body language for when he wants something.
- Looks at you and opens arms? Hugs
- Looks at you and pours his lips out a bit? Kissiesss
- His grip on ur waist tighten? oh boy it might be naughty time ;))
- But he’s sure to vocalize, and you love how flustered he gets.

Zen
- oh no
- ur too cute and sweet and you pick up on nONE OF HIS FLIRTING.
- “Hey MC, If I could rearrange the alphabet I would put U and I together.” oh ya that’ll charm her for sure-
- “You know if you think about it the alphabet is in a random order, but we decided that’s alphabetical. Like, who decided that? The Greeks? Speaking of Greek did you know in Greek Mythology-” mC NO
- be patient Zen try again
- “Are you a parking ticket? Because you have fine written all over you ;)” it’s too straightforward she has to get this-
- “Ugh do NOT get me started on how corrupt the Justice System is. Instead of learning from our mistakes through education we just PAY to get out of punishments?? It’s rediculous-” NO MC YOURE GOING TO KILL HIM.
- Finally he’s blunt with you.
- “MC I think you’re very cute and I like you a lot will u plz d8 me.”
- “I like you too!! Not gonna lie I really didn’t think you liked me back so I’m glad you finally said something.”
- MC ohoHOHO MY GOD
- ur first date is at his funeral bc u killed him.

Jaehee
- Baehee doesn’t even know she’s Gayhee until you show up.
- So she’s just as innocent, but not as oblivious.
- You’ve been working together for two years at the coffee shops and you two always get told you’re a cute couple
- “Oh no, we’re just best friends!”
- :* so um
- The entire RFA was under the impression you were dating.
- One day in the chat Jumin asked you were we’re coming up on your two year anniversary.
- “of what? opening the shop? that was a couple months ago jumin u were literally there when we celebrated.”
- “No of your relationship.”
- ur what
- “Well I mean i didn’t know you had anniversaries for friendships but i think it’s cute! what should i get her?”
- wHAT MC
- YOU GUYS ARENT DATING
- “everything i know is a lie” Seven piped in
- “Jaehee isn’t gay!” MC YOU HAVE NEVER BEEN SO WRONG
- “MC ur stupid jaehee is the gayest out of all of us, and since i’m the one saying that it means something.”
- Okay Seven
- finally jaehee had had enough
- “MC, would you like to go out tonight-”
- “Of course!”
- “-on a date?”
- “… I’d love that.”

Jumin
- King of Straightforward
- that’s can be both good and bad
- But even with how straightforward he is, you still miss his cues.
- “MC, you look beautiful.”
- “I can’t wait to see you.”
- “You’re so talented.”
- “You’re not like anyone I’ve ever met.”
- and everything gets the same response.
- “Awe, thank you Jumin! You’re such a great friend!”
- *sirens sound*
- “Excuse me officer i would like to report a fucking murder.”
- Seven no now is not the time
- Zen was laughing his ass off
- “Yeah jumin you are a good FRIEND to MC”
- Jumin is slumped in the corner
- Defeated
- Given up on love
- that is until you and Jaehee are talking over the phone about this mysterious guy you’ve fallen for (hehehehehe)
- “He’s wonderful and kind and always says the nicest things to me!… But I don’t think he sees me like that.”
- “Why not MC?”
- “He doesn’t show any interest in being something other than friends.”
- “I’m sorry MC”
- “It’s okay, it’s not my fault Jumin doesn’t like me-”
- “ MC W H A T !!”
- “Shoot, Jaehee, I didn’t mean to say it, I just-”
- “I GOTTA GO!”
- so jaehee sprints into Jumins office, where jumin all like “>:0 u know there’s this thing called knocking-”
- “Assistant Kang this is completely unprofessional-”
- “MC likes you too!”
- Jumin? more like ZOOMin bc he HOPPED his GOD DAMN DESK AND SPRINTED OUTTA THERE
- at ur apartment in .6 seconds flat
- Broke the sound barrier
- you open the door to see ur big ole crush just standing there, panting, nearly doubled over
- “Jumin oh my god what’s wrong-”
- “You like me.”
- “Of course I do you’re my friend-”
- CUT OFF WITH A KISS
- he pulled away, hands on your shoulders
- “You LIKE me.”
- i mean ye maybe
- “U-Uh… Ya.”
- that’s when you saw the most beautiful sight.
- Jumin Han laughing. Like, REALLY laughing.
- It was so deep and beautiful and genuine.
- Once he finished he looked back down at you, smiling, tears from laughing so hard in his eyes.
- “Would you like to go to Dinner?”
- “YES!! I-I mean, uh, Yeah, sure, sounds cool.”

Seven

- EVERYONE EXCEPT YOU TWO KNEW THAT YOU LIKED EACHOTHER
- “Seven just ask her out-”
- “No! I’m too dangerous.”
- “MC go talk to him!”
- “No he keeps pushing me away!”
- OH MY GOD JUST LOVE EACH OTHER ALREADY!!!
- LIKE
- SERIOUSLY
- WAT R U DOING
- U BOTH ARE STUPID
- “I wish MC/Seven liked me back…”
- The RFA has had it
- You get a text from Zen to meet the RFA at your favorite restaurant.
- You see Seven once you arrive, but no one else.
- You two talk but it grows awkward
- bc u two like each other
- but ur stoopid
- “Seven and MC, correct?” A voice called out from behind you. You both nodded.
- “Right this way.”
- You wee lead to a table with only… 2 seats
- “Hey what about-”
- “I regret to inform you that the rest of the RFA will not be joining, but they (jumin) have already paid for your dinner so, please, enjoy.”
- o k a y
- Seven looks at you, trying to gauge your response, but you just smiled and sat down.
- You two talk for 2 billion hours
- at least it feels like that
- Seven gets a random text from Zen
- “Soooo, how are things going ;)”
- He ignored it, choosing to give you his attention instead.
- “-like you” were the words he managed to pick out before he froze.
- “Wait, you like me?”
- “What?”
- “Because I like you!”
- “You like me?
- "I mean-”
- you grabbed his hand.
- “Because I like you too.”
- Seven looked down then back up at you.
- “Wow, you have a crush on me? that’s so embarrassing…”
- Cue you throwing ur spoon at him

The Usage of the Word “T’hy’la” or Lack thereof

So, a while ago I had this discussion with a fellow Trekkie about how canon K/S exactly is. When I brought up the Motion Picture Novel and the scene where Spock thinks of Jim as his T’hy’la, his final argument was (apart from the infamous footnote) that the word never actually made it into the series or movie franchise, and, therefore, couldn’t have been that much of importance.

But since I will fight anyone over this matter I thoroughly thought about this discussion, because he had a point. I mean the book still stands, but why didn’t Roddenberry or anyone else include the word? It seemed to be important enough and it became famous in the fandom almost immediately after it’s creation.

It took me a while, but then I re-watched WoK and the penny finally dropped.

Spock never used Vulcan Vocabulary with his captain (well duh, I know, but hear me out), because as far as we know Jim doesn’t understand Vulcan. 

And what is more: T’hy’la isn’t exactly a simple word. Due to it’s emotional intonation it’s probably a word derived from high Vulcan and it doesn’t even have a proper Standard translation. It is therefore loosely translated as: “Friend, Brother, Lover” since the word itself incompasses all three of them, but in Standard it’s untranslatable, because there is no comparism. (We, read: the fandom, translate it as soulmate, since this is probably very close. But this was never made official.)

So yeah, no point in confessing feelings that reach this deep to someone who wouldn’t understand the proper vocab, got it. 

That doesn’t mean that Spock never made Jim clear what he was to him. As I said, it took me some time, but I finally realized that Spock DOES use the word, he even says it directly to Jim. He just uses the Standard translation.

1. Superior officer = Brother (in arms)

2. Friend

3. I am yours = Lover

I could kick myself for not realizing this sooner. HE ACTUALLY DOES SAY IT! I mean, of course I’ve known since forever, that they love each other, but that Spock actually uses “T’hy’la” in the franchise is news to me.

This means exactly two things: that I am incredibly stupid sometimes (how many times did I watch this movie? 10?) AND that I can rub this under everyone’s noses. 

EXCUSE YOU MY OTP IS CANON!

In the Arms of Justice Pt 22 (Cop!Bucky x reader)

Characters: reader x Detective Barnes, Steve, Tony, Pepper, Sharon, Clint, Natasha, OC Sarah and Maggie Rogers. (Most only mentioned)

Summary: Reader is a witness to a crime, tying her to the investigation as well as the police involved. She never would have guessed how that one night would continue to change her life years later.

Warnings: Fluff, some angst. Some anxiety, also blood, murder, weapon and death mentions (none of it graphic), violence against women, gritty police drama tv show kind of feel.

Word Count: 1263

Tags at the bottom. TAG LIST IS CLOSED, I’M SO SORRY.

A/N: Welp. We’re nearing the end! I’ve got one more part planned and then we’ll have to say goodbye to Detective Barnes. At least for a while. I’m so grateful to all of you for your passion and support for this series. As always, your comments and feedback mean the world to me. Thank you!!! 

<<<Part 21   Part 22   Epilogue>>> 

In the Arms of Justice Series Masterlist

Full Masterlist

_________________________________________________________

Originally posted by yourlipbalm

Previously: 

You laughed as he wrapped an arm around you and pulled you to his side. Getting lost in his gaze for a moment, you pecked a kiss to his lips and then flicked your eyes to the side to see someone approaching.

“You ready for this?” you asked Bucky, seeing the tight line of his lips.

Taking a deep breath, he grasped your hand and nodded. “Time to face the music.”

_______________

Stepping forward a few feet with you beside him, Bucky stopped in front of the goateed, dark-haired Captain. He looked vastly different than how you had seen him previously in his office and in court, which was always in a finely tailored suit. Instead, he was currently dressed in jeans and a black band t-shirt with an unzipped hooded sweatshirt over it. It was a jarring sight, like seeing your teacher outside of school or something. Bizarre.

“Captain Stark,” Bucky greeted him, extending his hand.

“Barnes,” the Captain replied, shaking the man’s hand roughly before releasing it and turning toward you. “Ms. (Y/L/N), it’s good to see you in one piece. Mostly,” he taunted, nodding slightly to the wound on your side.

Keep reading

Forgotten Debrief Eggsy Unwin x Reader SMUT

Pairings: Eggsy Unwin x Reader

Notes: SMUT SMUT SMUT! Don’t like. Don’t read.

——————————————————

Another successful mission. You’ve been working for Kingsman for three years now, and have been crushing on your best friend Eggsy Unwin. That man was nearly everything you’ve ever wanted. From his physique to his intellect. You were walking down the halls of HQ to debrief. You were at a gala hosted by Richmond Valentine’s son in order to retrieve the information his father had on Kingsman. For you cover you wore a navy blue strapless floor length gown that hugged your curves and brought out your steely blue eyes. As your brown hair cascaded down your back displaying the blind highlights that flowed in it. While walking down the halls at HQ, you had the feeling that someone was behind you.

“Eggsy, what the hell are you doing?” You asked having a hunch that it was him.

“How the fuck did you know it was me (y/n)?” He exclaimed as you laughed. “It ain’t funny love.”

“Oh but it is babe.” You replied. The two of you always had this flirting banter, but you always wished it was real. Little did you know, he wanted the same thing. So just in spite of him, you began to sway your hips a little more than normal.

“Merlin. (Y/n) won’t be making her debriefing.” He said as you assumed he was wearing his glasses.

“Why won’t-” You began to say as Eggsy ran up behind you and spun you around, so he could slam his lips onto yours. With equal passion and love, you responded enthusiastically. He then pushed you up against the nearest wall, and pinned your wrists above your head. Without thinking you let out a loud moan.

“You like it rough (y/n)?” He questioned as you ground your hips into his, needing the friction as he was turning you on. He let out a throaty moan in return. Encouraging your actions made you more enthusiastic as you began to kiss his throat. Nipping and sucking at his pulse point and sweet spot. “Love let’s finish this somewhere private.”

“Hurry the fuck up Gary. A girl has their needs as well!” You said as he released your wrists and opened the nearest door. It was luckily to the trainees bunks. There wasn’t any at the moment, so the room was pointless at the time. Shutting the door behind you, he quickly pushed you down onto the nearest bed. Eggsy fell on top of you, and was assaulting your neck with kisses and bites. As he was doing this you were taking off his clothes. Following your actions, Eggsy was now removing your dress. That left you in your bra and panties, and he was still in his pants and underwear. “You’re wearing too much.” You said.

“So are you love.” He said as he snuck his hands behind your back and unclasped your black bra. His mouth was now exploring the new found area, as you unzipped his pants and pulled out his erection from their constraints. With that, Eggsy growled as he was trying to hold back a moan. “Playing dirty, arn’t we now?”

“Just for you, fuck Eggsy!” You exclaimed as he ripped your underwear off your body and plunged two fingers into your entrance. He was smirking like an idiot, but it was so fucking hot that it turned you on even more. After a few minutes of teasing one another, you simply had enough. “I need ya babe. Inside of me.”

“You ready (y/n)?” Eggsy whispered into your ear while nipping at your ear lobe. You nodded your head as he plunged into you. Once you adjusted to his size, he began a slow pace that turned faster and faster as you both were reaching your climaxes.

“I’m close….so..close now…” You barely got out. Wrapping your legs around his waist allowed him to hit a spot inside you that with two more thrusts made your whole body shake as you screamed his name. While you were riding out the waves of intense pleasure, he was finishing himself off as it was five more thrusts for him until you felt him empty himself inside you. After catching your breath, he removed himself from you, and you whimpered from the loss of contact.

“You have to go and debrief Percival.” He said as he began to dress himself again.

“But Galahad, it’s late and I’m awfully sore from the mission, and I’m tired as well-” You said as he walked over and put his hands on your sides, and began rubbing up and down your curves.

“I love you so much (y/n) that I can’t put it to words, but you have to do this. It’s mandatory, and you know it.” He said as he kissed your lips with all of the care and love in the world.

“I love you too Gary.”

“Don’t get used to saying that. You can only call me that when we are alone love.” He pecked your lips as he helped you right yourself before you left to debrief. Eggsy walked with you as the two of you had a casual conversation about the mission. Once you entered Merlin’s office he addressed the two of you.

“Galahad, you need to control yourself. And as for you Percival, you need to tell me exactly what happened.” Merlin said as you debriefed with Eggsy right there with you. The entire time he couldn’t keep his hands off you as he was either playing with your hair, or sliding his hands anywhere he could. Once he dismissed you, Eggsy was already dragging you to his room. He quickly shut the door behind him and asked you.

“Ready for round two?”

Zach Dempsey #2

Hello everyone :)
Here is another Zach Dempsey imagine, with a little help by @themonicashastriblog

Request are open and welcome! :)


Originally posted by ourheartbeats

It was nothing, at first.
I didn’t give much thought into the fact that I haven’t been on my period this month.
Hannah’s suicide and Jeff’s death shook up everything and I was still trying to wrap my head around  what happened.
More precisely, what Zach had to do with it.
When I found out about the tapes I was so mad at him for not telling me.

But we eventually got over it.
Now we were happier than before.
Stronger than before.

“Hey, Y/N. Are you there?”, Sherri rips me out of my thoughts and I look at her with an excusing look on my face before I straighten up my cheer leading skirt.

“What were you saying?”, I ask and Sherri laughs before she gets up and we walk into the gym together.
“I was saying, Jess isn’t coming today. She got cramps. This time of the month again, you know.”, she looks over to me and I frown a minute.

“What’s going on? You look like I talked about something evil.”, she laughs and I smile vague before I follow her into the gym.

I am sure it means nothing that my period is late this month too.
Even though the stress was getting better I had a flu and the doctor subscribed me some medication which most likely to mess with my body.
It’s probably nothing.

Keep reading

It’s Complicated (Jason Blossom Imagine Jason x Reader- Part 1)

Request: I swear You are the best writer ever. I loved your Jason Blossom imagine, do you think you could write more? It was absolutely beautiful, maybe one where Jason and the reader were the longest lasting couple and this new girl tries to break them up, so they get into a fight but Cheryl fixes them. Thank you so much, I loved your imagine so so much ❤️❤️

Words Count: 1990 (shiiiiiiiiit)

Warnings: None

A/N: Whoever wrote this request, you are adorable and your compliment made me happy, thank you thank you thank you!!!! <3

PART TWO   PART THREE 



Your eyes flutter open to a sunbeam dancing across your face. You groan and turn your ahead away from the light. You feel your body slowly sink back into sleep but your phone dings a happy tune, alerting you of a new message. You roll your body and fumble for your phone on your bedside table. Squinting from the brightness coming off your phone, you open the message. You smile at your phone when you realise it’s from your boyfriend, Jason Blossom. You sit up and read the message.
JJ: Time to wake up, I’ll pick you up today!” You click your phone off and slowly rise from your bed.

You had showered, gotten dress and were currently eating breakfast with your parents. You heard the front door open and saw Jason walk in.  “Good morning Mr and Mrs (Y/L/N), how has your morning been so far?” Jason asks politely. You parents smile at Jason
“Very well Jason and yours?” Your Dad asks.
“As good as a Monday morning can be Sir.” Jason say, he walks up to you and kisses your cheek.
“You ready to go?” He asks, slinging your bag around his shoulder. You nod, kissing your parents on the cheek before heading out the front door with Jason. He chucks your bag in the back seat. “Why hello there beautiful, how are you today?” Cheryl asks from the front seat. You laugh and hug her hello.
“I’m fine, how are you Cheryl?” You ask, pulling away from the red-haired girl. She grimaces and you nod your head, understanding that it was something she didn’t want to talk about. You reach over to open your door but Jason’s hand gets there first, opening it for you. You smile up at him and he smiles back down at you. “Hi you.” He says, cupping your jaw and planting a quick kiss on your lips.
“Hi, how was football practice?” You ask, climbing into the backseat of his red car.
“It was okay, think I might have bent something that is not supposed to bend.” He says, making his way to the front seat. He starts up the car and pulls out into the street. Concern fills your body, showing on your face. Jason notices your face and reaches back to hold your hand.
“Babe, it’s fine. It was kidding.” He says. You raise your eyebrows at him and he laughs. “Mostly.” He corrects. Cheryl looks at her twin and then back to you.
“You two are so cute, I still can’t believe you guys have been dating since you were 13.” She states before turning her attention back to Jason. They talk about homework and what they were doing after school. You close your eyes and lean your head back on the head rest behind you. You feel your body drift off into a light sleep.

Keep reading

One Year Anniversary

Authors note- So I forgot that it was my 1 year anniversary on tumblr yesterday (whoops). But to celebrate I have written a fluffy kinky smut! Woohoo! (Yes I still know how to write, I think). Anyways, ENJOY~

Member- Jungkook

Genre- Fluffy, smut

Warning- Swearing, Mature themes

“Babe get ready otherwise we’re going to be late!” You shouted for the fifth time that night. It had been one year since you put a ring on it. One whole year since you said I do. One whole year of living with the biggest meme in the world. One year of pure love. (More like one year of insanity but you can’t have it all.) And tonight you were going to celebrate all that by going out for a really romantic dinner, in one of the most fancy, most expensive restaurant in Seoul. But your loving, kindhearted, stupid ass husband was not getting ready. You weren’t ready yet either but that was his fault because he wasn’t letting you in the fu… bedroom. “Jungkook let me in!” Silence. “Jungkook? Jungkook?”

 You opened the door slightly and you saw him jolt up quickly to stop you from coming in any further. “Give me a second.”

 “Jungkook!”

 “Please?” He played his puppy dog eyes trick on you because he knew it made your heart melt.

 “Fine, but only a second.” He nodded his head as he ushered you out. “And that’s not gonna work anymore!” You shouted as he slammed the door in your face. You waited for him to open the door. You could hear him scurrying around and dropping things. “Shit.”

 “Jungkook, are you ok?”

 “Yeah peachy!”

 Peachy? He didn’t break your perfumes did he? They were expensive and…

 “Ok, you can come in now.”

 “What were you doing all this time Kook…” Your eyes fell on the box that was placed on the bed, which looked like it had been wrapped, well, attempted to be wrapped. “Is this for me?”

 He nodded his head as he ran over and sat on the bed next to the present. “Go on, open it.”

 You walked over and picked up the rectangular object and shook it. You could hear metal jingling about. “What is it?” You ripped the wrapping paper and slowly undid the sellotape that stopped you from seeing what was inside the box. Once you saw what it was, your jaw dropped to the floor. “Damn Kookie, I knew you were kinky but not this kinky.”

 “Y/N. That is not true. And besides, I wanted to try something out-you know spice up our love life a little bit.”

 “So…” You held the cold metal up in front of his face and smirked at him.

 “You’re under arrest Y/N.”

 “What are you going to do officer?” You said as you played along trying not to laugh.

 “I’m going to punish you…”

 “Hold up.” You put your hand up as you interrupted him. “Can you be a bit more, I don’t know, original please.”

 “Why? What do you want me to say?” He questioned with a hurt look expressed on his face.

 “I don’t know.”

 “Fine.” He said as he rolled his eyes.

 “Let me say that again.” You said as you tried to get back into character. “What are you going to do officer?” You spoke in sultry way.

 “I’m gonna go downtown.”

 “Nice player.” You high fived each other and got back into ‘character’.

 He grabbed the handcuffs from you and pushed you down on to the bed. He climbed on top of you and placed his lips on to yours. He kissed you roughly, pulling and tugging on your bottom lip. You instantly wrapped your arms around his neck but he pulled away. “Naughty.” He unbuttoned the shirt you were wearing and took your bra off. He then grabbed your arms and placed them above your head. He handcuffed you to the bed and you could already feel the pressure on your skin. He trailed from your arms to your neck, marking your soft skin as he made his way down. He feathered down your stomach to the one place that had you burning up for him. He slid down the now damp black lacey fabric and discarded it in the room.

 “I’m going way downtown.” Was the last thing he said. You could feel his hot breath on your skin, causing a shiver to run down your spine.  He buried his head in between your legs and all that escaped your lips were sweet nothings.

 “Uh, Jungk…ook,”

 “I love it when you moan my name baby.” You tried to reach down so that you could entangle your fingers through his locks, but you were stuck. “Shit,” you breathed.

 His tongue danced across and through your folds like magic. You were a moaning mess by now but you didn’t want to give into him so you silenced yourself making him stop and look up at you. This wasn’t the first time you didn’t give into him; it was a competition of dominance. He would make sure that you are being pleased and you would make sure that he was also being pleased. Also you hated that sly smirk that he always does straight after sex.

 “Why are you so quiet? You won’t be for long.” He got rid of his shirt and rid himself of his pants and boxers. He pumped himself before he lined himself up.

 He shoved his whole length into you hitting the back. He pulled right out and went back in deep at a fast pace. The whole bed was shaking and the sound of skin slapping filled the air. You tried really hard to keep it in but you couldn’t last.

 “Fuck!”

 He smirked at the sound of your voice and he released a few whimpers himself. 

 “I-hate-you-Jung-kook!”

 You knew you were going to be sore tomorrow but this was too good. The pain from the handcuffs rubbing against your skin and the pleasure from Jungkook thrusting in and out of you like there was no tomorrow made your whole body shake. You were on a high and you were definitely not going to come down anytime soon.

 “I-think-I’m-close-babe.” Jungkook said in between each breath. His speed increased and he repeatedly hit the spot that makes you crumble. You could feel the tension between your legs building up.

 With one last thrust, your walls clenched around him, and you saw white. Once Jungkook felt you tighten around him he shot his hot liquid into you.

 You both rode out your highs and came to a gradual stop.

 “Hey, we should get ready for our dinner reservation.” Jungkook sighed. He kissed you and stood up to go and get ready.  He began to walk off but you coughed to get his attention.

 “Aren’t you forgetting something?” You asked as you looked up at your hands above your head. The sudden realisation kicked in, and he fumbled around for the key.

 “I swear I had it somewhere…”

 “Jungkook you’ve not lost it have…”

 “Got it!” He unlocked them and set you free. You rubbed your wrists to make the red marks fade.

 “It didn’t hurt did it?”

 You shook your head vigorously. “No, no, I’m fine.” You stood up and headed towards the bathroom. “But next time I want to see you in them.” You looked at Jungkook whose cheeks had now turned a light pink colour making you chuckle.

lawyer! Wonwoo

Anon requested: “Lawyer! Wonwoo?”

  • can you just imagine 
  • Wonwoo with a business card that says ‘ATTORNEY JEON WONWOO’
  • works at the Pledis Firm 
  • and just has this little office on the second floor 
  • a simple dark wood furnished office with two book selves 
  • one with law book etc, and one he simply enjoys 
  • not really the type to wear a suit 
  • i mean he will in court 
  • but he really can’t be those people that come to work in expensive suits or whatever 
  • prefers sweaters 
  • 9 times out of ten in a v-neck sweater with a dress shirt underneath 
  • and occasionally when he’s feeling eccentric he’ll wear a half zip pull over or something 
  • always has on circle framed glasses because 
  • “they make him think better" 
  • no one really ever asked him though, because he looks 
  • HOT cough 
  • he’s not the best lawyer ever, or in the company 
  • obviously he’s pretty young 
  • but he’s up and rising 
  • just the way he handles cases is different of everyone else 
  • he is always calm, not a voice raised at all 
  • but he still speaks with the jury on an emotional level 
  • has this rule, 
  • only takes cases he believes in 
  • he’s not in it for the money, no not at all 
  • he just genuinely loves his job, and loves helping people
  • and even though he handles everything very level headed, professional, and cold hearted when needed
  • that doesnt mean every single case he does doesn’t touch the very bottom of his heart
  • “hey Wonwoo, the big guy assigned you to this one,” Seungcheol hands Wonwoo the file
  • “thanks” Wonwoo says, and immediately starts flipping through it * he has to read it twice honestly
  • no he’s not naive but , how can someone do something so horrible right?
  • your picture paper clipped to the file did not help either
  • you had been having problems lately
  • well its lot more than just a problem
  • you were just a college student trying to graduate this year top ish of the class
  • just studying hard and not letting getting into such a good college and this scholarship go to waste
  • but thats hard when this guy can’t stop harassing you
  • you sucked it up because like you really didnt need anything to blow up
  • until he put his hands on you
  • thats how you were half dragged to the police station but your friends within the next few days,
  • and filed a report
  • but of course that guy, actually had a LOT of money a lot actually
  • so easily that were able to get their case to fall in Jeon Wonwoo’s hands
  • and he wasnt about to fall for this bullshit
  • Wonwoo does his research, thoroughly
  • “I can’t take this case"
  • he boss looks up from his desk with raised eyebrows
  • “why not, they’re willing to pay a lot, i’ll hand it to someone else”
  • standing his ground, Wonwoo says firmly, “actually I would like to defend the opposing side instead”
  • “can they afford it?”
  • “I’m willing to work extra cases to make up for it, but just don’t take this one”
  • and with that he gets all your contact information, and arranges for you to meet with him
  • going there, your not sure what to expect
  • with a fluttering heart, your extremely thankful towards him
  • but your expecting a middle aged guy in a suit and styled hair from the professionalism in his voice
  • not a guy maybe 1 or 2 years older than you, in a sweater and harry potter glasses, with slightly disheveled hair from running his hands through it
  • “hi please take a seat” he smiles slightly
  • he looked pretty calm and professional
  • but um NO
  • he was shook inside because
  • your picture did not do you justice
  • the second you walked info his office he had to stop his eyes from widening
  • but he took his job and your case seriously
  • it didn’t matter what he felt
  • but gradually as the case continued, you felt yourself falling for him
  • the way he would always ask you what you wanted before making a move
  • “do you want to do this?”
  • you duck your head and stare at the hands in lap
  • staying silent for a moment, in thought
  • but your heads shoots up, eyes staring deeply into his
  • because his hands were grasping yours, and you saw how he softly took your hands in his
  • looking into your eyes, he realized this was a moment that would be considered inappropriate
  • but he didn’t care
  • “i want to do this” you say finally
  • squeezing your hands on last time before letting them go, he smiles and nods
  • the both of you are disappointed, not being able to hold the others hand longer
  • and in court, you saw a different side of Wonwoo, one that you admire
  • he stood with confidence, he talked with authority, he knew how to bring the jury to his side
  • you gripped the table nervously as the both of you sat side by side waiting
  • “it’s going to be okay, im not worried” he whispers in your ear
  • you breathe in and take your hands off the table
  • “then i wont be either, i believe in you”
  • sure enough
  • “the jury hereby finds the defendant, guiltily”
  • the midst of your excitement you bring him in for a hug
  • or does he bring you in your a hug
  • but thats irrelevant
  • pulling away, you smile
  • “thank you Wonwoo”
  • he hums, “you shouldn’t have to thank me”
  • now you guys are in his office alone
  • “i guess this is goodbye,” you say regretfully, about to turn around and leave the office
  • “it doesn’t have to be”
  • he walks over to you, who’s standing shocked, and shows a grin you’ve never seen before
  • and you love it
  • “let’s go do something tomorrow night, are you free?”
  • “i am” you cant help but show your excitement, the smile forming on your face
  • for a second you see his eyes shift from your face to your lips
  • before you can register it,
  • “your no longer my client, so this won’t matter” he says softly
  • leaning down, he presses his lips right at the corner of your mouth
  • just as he leans back, you pull him into a hug
  • and this one lasts a lot longer than your other one
  • he has his head in the crook of your neck
  • your head is resting on his chest comfortably, with no thoughts besides him and him only
  • pulling away you leave him with a smile and your parting words
  • “i really look forward to tomorrow”
  • he stands there for a moment after you leave collecting himself
  • he chuckles to himself,
  • “she’s so cute”

Originally posted by jeonheart

MASTERLIST

~admin seri

Forever (2) - I know, baby girl. I know. (FP Jones & Jughead Jones-Riverdale)

Request: Hi! Could you please do a part 2 or forever where FP has been framed and put in jail and it’s jughead’s first day at south side high (and this is when he is sorta living in FP’s trailer) and reader helps calms his nerves with school and maybe even Betty?

Thank you for the request, i hope i did it justice :)



Click here for part one!


2 months have passed since Jughead found out about FP’s and Y/N’s relationship and everything has been going great. FP started working for Fred Andrews again, Y/N has been getting along with Jughead wonderful and they all were happy.

“So Jughead, i heard that your high school has some sort of a dance happening tonight. Are you and Betty going?” Y/N asked standing up from the table and starting to clean up after they just finished dinner.

“Yeah, It’s not like I have much of a choice.” He said sarcastically. Everyone knew that a school dance was not really in his style.

“You’re so much like your father.” Y/N laughed.

“Hey!”

“Yeah right!” They both said at the same time.

“Mhm, of course not.” She shook her head at them. “Not at all.”

“Are you two going as well?” The boy asked, not sure if he would be rather them saying yes or no.

“Nah.” Y/N said, knowing that FP wouldn’t enjoy it.

“Lucky you.” Jughead said to his father making him smirk.

“That I am.” He nodded  looking at the woman he loved.

Soon they heard a knock.

“Expecting someone?” FP asked looking at the girl sitting next to him on the couch while Jughead was sitting at the desk writing his novel.

“That must be Betty, she’s picking me up.” The boy said not even looking up from his laptop.

“I’ll get it.” Y/N stood up and walked to the door. “Betty, hey! Come in, Jughead is at the table.” She said letting the teenage blonde inside.

“Thank you Miss-”

“Call me Y/N, please.  No need for formalities.” The woman smiled before closing the door behind her.

“Ready?” Betty asked walking over to Jughead  who was in no hurry to get ready for the dance.

“Yeah.” He sighed before standing up.

“You,” FP said pointing at his son, “Be a gentleman.”

“He always is, Mr. Jones.” Betty said with a smile, she still seemed nervous around FP.

“Betty, Take some pictures, I wanna see how cute you two looked.” Y/N smiled before hugging Jughead. “Have fun.”

“Yes Mi-, Y/N.” Betty smiled before the duo walked out.

“They are kinda cute together.” Y/N smiled before sitting down next to FP again.

“You think everyone and everything is cute.” He laughed warping an arm around her shoulder, letting her cuddle in to his side.

“Well mostly everything and everyone is cute. World is a beautiful place, Mr. Jones.” She said making him chuckle.

“You and I are from different worlds then, baby girl.”

-

A couple of hours have passed and the couple has just finished dinner and went to lie down in their bed.

“Juggie was right.” He said, “I’m unbelievably lucky.”

“You are.” She nodded, drawing small circles on his chest with her finger as she lied beside him, his arm around her. “You managed to fix your relationship with your son, you got a job, working with your best friend, you stopped drinking …” She talked, smiling about how much he has changed.

“That’s not what I meant.” He shook his head.

“What did you mean then?” She asked looking up at him.

“You. I’m unbelievably lucky to have you by my side. And none of those things would of happened without you.”

“FP…” She was speechless, she loved him, with all of her heart and nothing could change that.

“I know, baby girl. I know.” FP pulled her up in to a kiss. She didn’t need to say anything. He saw it in her eyes. He knew she loved him and would stay by his side no matter what.

She climbed on top of him, each of her legs on ether side of his lap, not breaking the kiss as he ran his hands up her thighs, lifting up the flannel she was wearing before deciding to just rip it open.

“I’m one lucky bastard.” He said to himself as he saw her in wearing matching set of black lace panties and bra.

“Oh, I’m pretty sure it’s the other way around.” She whispered leaning down to kiss his neck while her hand made its way in to his boxers, gently grabbing his already hard member.

“Baby-” He was cut of by the front door opening in in matter of seconds there were cops standing all around them.

“What the fuck?” Y/N screamed, jumping off of him, pulling one of his flannels she was wearing closer to her body, trying to cover herself up.

“Mr. Jones, you’re under arrest for the murder of Jason Blossom. Anything you say or do can and will be used against you in the court of law.” The sheriff said as two of the cops walked towards the duo on the bed.

“What? He didn’t kill anyone!” Y/N said panic in her voice.

“Ma'am, we’ll have to ask you to get out the way.’‘  The female officer said, grabbing her hand and keeping her in place.

’'Hey, hey! I’m going.  Don’t touch her!” FP almost growled at the officers before standing up and pulling on a pair of jeans and a flannel. “It’s gonna be okay, baby girl.” He said as they cuffed him. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” The girl said trough the tears before collapsing on the floor, feeling helpless.

-

“Dad?!” Jughead entered the trailer looking around for his dad. He heard that he was arrested but couldn’t believe it. He was sure it was all a lie and that he was just sleeping in at home.

“Dad!” He tried again walking in to his dad’s bedroom only to find Y/N on the floor. “Y/N?” He ran to her and shook her.

“Jughead?” The girl opened her eyes, realizing she must of fallen asleep while crying after they have arrested FP.

“Where’s FP?”

“Juggie…” She took a deep breath trying to think about what she will say. “Cops came last night, they arrested him for murder of Jason Blossom.” She said, taking the boys hand in hers.

“No-” The boy’s voice broke.

“I’m sorry Juggie.” She got on her knees and hugged the boy in front of her. “He will get out.” She said as the boy started crying in to her shoulder. “He’s not guilty. They can’t punish him for something he didn’t do.” She rubbed his back as he just held on to her like a little boy would hold on to her mommy after being scared by thunder. “I’m right here, Juggie. We’ll get trough this. Together. Okay?” She pulled away, cupping the boy’s face in her soft hands, trying to hide the fact that she herself was shaking. “I’m here. You have me. Okay?”

“Okay.” He nodded trying to stop crying.

“Go get yourself a glass of water from the kitchen and I’ll get ready and we’ll go to the police station and see what the situation is. Alright?” The girl said standing up from the ground.

“Yeah.” Jughead nodded and walked to the kitchen.

-

“Ready?” Y/N asked walking out of the bathroom now full face of make up, making it impossible  to tell she spent the whole night crying.

“Yeah.” He said looking up at the girl who was now wearing a simple black t shirt and light blue skinny jeans paired off with some black combat boots.

“Let’s go then.” She said walking out of the trailer and to her car, with Jughead right behind her.

-

“We’re here to see FP Jones.” Y/N said calmly when they walked in to the police station.

“You can’t see him right now.” The old man sitting behind the desk said in a bored tone.

“Why the hel-” Jughead started but Y/N cut him off by squeezing his shoulder and saying. “May we ask why?”

“He’s being interrogated.”  

“Can we see him after?”

“Sure.”

-

After sitting in the waiting room of the police station for two hours Jughead finally looked up and saw his father walk out of one of the interrogation rooms. “Dad!” He stood up and tried to walk over to him but was stopped by one of the cops pushing him back.

“FP…” Y/N whispered, it physically hurt her to see him like this. It took everything she had not to cry.

“You can see him now.” The police officer from before said. “But only one at the time.”

“You go Juggie, I’ll wait.” The girl said.

“Thank you.” Jughead hugged her before walking in to the room where FP was lead to.

-

“He confessed.” Jughead said, when he came out and walked back to Y/N. “He did it.” His face was a mixture of anger, confusion, sadness and god knows what else.

“What?” Y/N couldn’t believe what she was hearing.

“He’s who everyone thought he was, a murderer.”

“Juggie..”

“Betty is picking me up. I have to go.’'  The boy walked out before she could say anything else.

’'You can go in now.” The officer said to her and she nodded before walking in the direction from where Jughead just came.

“FP!” She let out a cry when she saw the man she loved behind prison bars.

“Baby girl.” He quickly stood up and walked to the bars, reaching out to grab her hand.

“What’s going on, FP?” She asked, overwhelmed with everything.

“I had to confess, princess. I’m sorry.” He said, his eyes full of sadness.

“But you didn’t do it!” She said, trying to convince herself.

“I had to. I’m so sorry.” He said reaching up to cup her face, whipping away the tear that escaped her eye.

“You didn’t do it!”

“I love you.” He said, knowing nothing else he could say would mean anything. “Take care of Juggie.”

“No! You’re not doing this!” She shook her head, her voice quiet. “You’re not saying goodbye. You’ll get out. We’ll be together.”

“I’m sorry, baby girl.” He said again before pulling her close and kissing her, the prison bars bleary allowing their lips to touch.

“I love you too, no matter what.” She said quietly just as one of the officers walked in.

“Ma'am, the visit hours are over.”

“Yeah.” She pressed one more kiss to FP’s lips before walking out.

-

A couple of days have passed and Jughead moved in with Y/N in FP’s trailer. She had became a mixture of a mother figure and a friend to him.

“Y/N? Can I get some advice?” Jughead walked up to her one while she was cooking them something to eat.

“Sure, what’s up?”

“Mine and Betty’s 3 month anniversary is coming out and she is making every monthly anniversary kinda a big deal.” He started to explain.

“I can’t decide if that's  cute or weird.” She chuckled  giving him her full attention.

“It’s both. Anyway I was thinking of getting her a present but i don’t know what to get her.”

“Okay, what kind of present are you thinking?”

“I have no idea.”

“How about some roses and chocolates and you can write her a love letter kind of thing to make it a bit less basic?” She suggested.

“That sounds a good idea. Thanks!”

-

“Imma be a bit late tonight, I have somethings to take care of at work. Be safe.” Y/N called out before grabbing her keys and walking out.

“Sure.” Jughead said from the couch, looking down at his notebook with Betty sitting on the opposite end of the couch reading something.

-

“Hey, i’m hom-” Y/N cut herself off the second she entered the trailer only to find Betty in her bra on the kitchen counter and Jughead standing in between her legs, groping and kissing her. “For fucks sake! We make food there!!” She said hardly holding back a laugh.

“Y/N!? Fuck, I thought you’ll be working late.” Jughead said jumping away from Betty who quickly pulled her shirt back over her head.

“It is late,  Forsythe!” She said using his actual name.

“I’m sorry.” Betty started to apologize  but Y/N just lifted her hand, stopping her.

“Hey it’s fine. God knows you’re not the first couple doing that there. Just clean up after yourself.” The older girl laughed before walking towards her and FP’s room.

“Wait does that mean you and- Eww.” Jughead gagged jumping away from the counter.

“Clean up after yourself, Jones!” She said laughing, leaving the two blushing teenagers behind her.



.

Request here!

Masterlist here!

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AN: Hey hope you like it, i left out some stuff and added/replaced it.

anonymous asked:

I wish you would write a fic where Bernie doesn't go to to Kiev but she pulls the breaks on her relationship with Serena, thinking Serena doesn't really know what she wants. Things get tense and then Robbie comes back. (Whether Serena sleeps with him or not would be up to you.) And when Serena tells him there's someone else... Bernie overhears it.

Bernie doesn’t go to Ukraine, in the end.  Gets as far as her car, rests her head against the steering wheel and calls herself a coward, gets back out and practically runs to Hanssen’s office to tell him she’s changed her mind.  He asks her if she’s sure, reminds her again what an excellent opportunity this would be, how well it would suit her.  She thinks of Serena and tells him that yes, she is.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

thank u for this oh my god im struggling so much rn: i'd really love something with lily picking james over snape like snape being the little shit he is and trying to break them up or something because i live on that shit

“How was your summer, Evans?” 

Lily is already smiling by the time she’s turned around. As she suspected, James Potter is standing in front of her in the prefect compartment, already in the uniform his mum likely forced him to put on. “Very good,” she tells him, though he already knows it. “Yours?”

“Fantastic,” says James. He raises his eyebrows at her. “I met a girl.”

Perhaps she’s too easily pleased, but her stomach jumps anyway. “Really? What was she like?”

“Oh, terrible,” he says, grinning. “Always calling me names, never pulling out my chair for me, and worst of all…. ginger.” James adds this in the tone one might use for talking about a relative who has contracted dragon pox.

She scoffs. “I’d heard her hair was more of an auburn colour.”

James gasps. “You know her too? I always reckoned she’d been stepping out on me, but I never thought it’d be with one of my mates.”

Lily elbows him in the ribs as he laughs.

Keep reading

That was cold (Bruce Wayne imagine)

Requested: Yes
Request:  Bruce and Batmom are nominated for the Ice bucket challenge, and Bruce just plans to donate a shit ton of money, but Batmom and the kids devise a plan to make him take the challenge with her. Fluffy Batfam and maybe it gets a little steamy between Bruce and Batmom at one point?
Summary: Forcing Bruce to do the Ice Bucket Challenge with you.
Word count: 430
Warning(s): none, A swear word I think ? 

“That looks so fun! We should totally do it!” You exclaim to your husband Bruce as you finish watching your friends Ice bucket challenge, in which you were nominated.  

“How about I just donate a couple hundred thousand.” He sighs, obviously not fond of the idea.

Honey, you can do that anyway,” You persuade.

Y/n No.” He answers and you knew you had no chance of willingly getting him to do it.

Over the next week you attempt to get him to change his mind, to no avail of course. So you devise a plan and get your children involved. Tim was doing the logistics, calculating how much ice and water you needed and making sure you wouldn’t get hurt in the process. Dick and Damian were the lifting and pouring power, and well god knows where Jason was so he was of no help.

It was the morning of the day that the plan was supposed to take place, and everything was going to plan. You ate breakfast as usual and then Bruce hid himself in the office as usual.

The boys had just finished filling the buckets when you walk in Bruce’s office. “Darling, can you come with me for a sec, I need to show you something.” You ask, causing Bruce to look up at you curiously. “Can’t it wait?” He sighs. “No,” You excitedly smile, Bruce can’t resist your smile for shit.  

Pulling his hand excitedly. Making your way out the front door he quirks his eyebrow, “What do you want to show me, love?” He asks, “Wait and see,” you say excitedly clapping your hands ,quite hard, twice. And as if on queue, freezing cold water is dumped over both of you from the roof, causing you to screech at first but then go into a fit of laughter.

Bruce wipes the excess water off his face, brushing his hair back. Glaring at where the water came from the boys were long gone. “Oh come on Bruce, don’t be such a sourpuss.” 

Bruce smiles, and pulls you into a kiss, which is quickly ruined when you lose your footing on the wet stone. You fall towards Bruce, his large frame breaking your fall. You continue laughing on top of him, him still smirking. “Well that was cold!” You say leaning in to a heated kiss.

That was soon ruined by Jason’s loud laughter, you both looked at him. “Man, you should have seen your faces! I’m putting it on youtube!” He chuckles, a loud array of Boys cheers of agreement sounding from the front door.


Masterlist
Ask

With love,
-K

aiambia  asked:

Well, since you have free time, how about a kylux drabble/doodle about bad pick-up lines?

Ben sits at the bar, nursing his drink. He isn’t sure where to go or what to do. The temple is gone, there’s no turning back to his family now, those bridges are burned along with everything Ben once was.

Around him is smoke and laughter, too much and too loud. His arm is jolted as someone bumps into him and he turns to stand, ready for a fight.

In front of him is a slightly inebriated First Order officer in a Captain’s uniform, maybe a few years older than himself. His eyes are hazy, the colour of a clouded sky and he looks Ben over as if he’s never seen another man before. “Hello there.” he says, tone smooth even as he wobbles. “Do you believe in love at first sight or should I bump into you again?”

Ben can feel his eyebrows raising, “Excuse me?” he scoffs, “I think you’ve had too much to drink Captain.”

“Ooh! Calling me by my rank, I like it.” One hand comes up to run through already mussed red hair, “Do you like to think of me being above you?” he shrugs, “Or beneath you, I’m not fussy.” The officer smiles and Ben can feel his breath hitch in his throat.

“I should go.” He says, not sure exactly how to deal with this situation. He’s never been flirted with before and he can already feel his face heating.

“Careful you don’t get arrested,” the redhead says, accidentally slopping his drink down himself. “It must be illegal to look that gorgeous.”

Ben’s face is crimson now, and the worst part is that he’s actually starting to like the compliments. No one has ever called him gorgeous. He wets his lips in a last ditch effort to put the man off. “You’ve spilled drink on your uniform you know.”

A pale eyebrow arches and the Captain meets Ben’s eye in a surprisingly steady gaze. “Do you know what this uniform is made of?” He leans in close, breath warm against Ben’s lips and all Ben can do is shake his head.

The man smirks and leans even closer, whispering in Ben’s ear. “Boyfriend material.”

anonymous asked:

Hi! I seriously love this blog, I check it daily. Thank you so much for all the hard work. Just wondering if u knew of any dare/bet fics? Where Derek dates Stiles because he is dared too or something similar! Thanks so much

Some of these where other people bet on them instead. - Anastasia

Originally posted by alina-horanx3

It’s On by WeirdV 

(1/1 | 2,948 | Not Rated)

Derek should’ve known better than agree to a bet with Erica.
He’d known her for almost a year, and in all that time she had rarely been wrong. But he had been so god damn sure about this.
“Deal” he says, shaking her hand in agreement.
“Oh, it’s on” she nods, “If you win, you get TV privileges for a month. If I win – you have to go out on a date with that gangly skinny kid from our Criminal Justice class.”
“Wait – no way” he shakes his head, “How is that a fair bet?”
“Because I’d be sacrificing the women’s boxing finale for you, Derek” she says with a solemn nod, “It’s a fair bet.”
“Fine” he agrees reluctantly, “But you are losing this bet.”

She wins the bet.

Chance only favours the prepared mind by relenafanel

(1/1 I 4,145 I General)

“What kind of bet did you lose that you have to go out with this?” the guy asked, gesturing to himself.

“First person to flirt with me,” Derek grumbled.

Bet On It by IDreamOnlyOfYou (lauren3210)

(1/1 I 8,343 I Mature)

Stiles is an RN and Derek the attending trauma surgeon at Beacon Hills Hospital. They’re constantly arguing, much to the amusement of their colleagues, who ultimately decide to take bets on when the sexual tension will finally explode. The only question is, who will win the jackpot?

Or

5 times one of the guys try to push Derek and Stiles together, and the time they worked it out all on their own.

The Sweater Bet by HugeAlienPie 

(3/3 | 11,647 | General)

There’s two sides to every dare. Unless your dare involves people. Then there’s also the payback side.

I’ll Make You Believe Again by gabby227

(5/? I 13,823 I Explicit)

Stiles Stilinski doesn’t do relationships. After several that ended badly, he just doesn’t see the point anymore. But when Derek Hale bets Stiles that he can’t go six months with sleeping with the same person monogamously without falling in love with them, Stiles jumps on that bet. After all, he lives for proving people wrong. However, can he really go the six months of the bet without falling in love with Derek, or will he fall in love anyway?

Alpha Ballet by sometimes_i_english

(1/1 I 15,531 I Explicit)

Laura calls him to her office between his classes and rehearsals.

“You called me?” he asks, an easy smile on his lips as he enters.

“Sit down Stiles” she says, her voice feels as cool as Erica’s had on Saturday night, his eyes go frantic around her face; yet he finds nothing, her expression stoic and her eyes unforgiving with betrayal.

“Sooo” he says, because of course Stiles would get uncomfortable with silence first

“A bet Stiles?” she hisses “really?!”

Won’t You Be My Solid Ground? by scarlettletterr

(10/10 I 18,524 I General)

Your typical High School AU. There’s a jock, there’s a nerd, there’s a bet, and there’s feelings.

(Nerd) Derek Hale is not a chicken, and when Erica bets that he’d never have the courage to date (Jock) Stiles Stilinski for more than two weeks, Derek accepts the challenge, because he’s stupidly attracted to Stiles, and also maybe crushing on him a tiny bit too much. And maybe Stiles has been crushing on Derek for years. And maybe somewhere along the line they fall in love. And then ruin it.

Two Bets Don’t Make A Right by Wiccan507

(15/15 I 43,173 I Mature)

When 26 year old History student Derek Hale asks 18 year old English student Stiles Stilinski out his friends bet him that he won’t be able to go 2 months without sleeping with Derek. Never one to back down from a challenge Stiles accepts the terms and goes about to prove them all wrong. But what happens when Derek’s intentions with Stiles aren’t all that innocent?

anonymous asked:

what marvey fics do you know of where mike gets injured?? p.s. love your blog! you seem so sweet!!

Hey Anon, 

I love getting these requests and thank you for your lovely comments. 😗

Here is a list of hurt/injured Mike, with healthy helpings of protective/comforting Harvey.  I don’t read major character death 💀 so you won’t find those here.

Love Me Tender / See You on the Other Side ~ by @novemberhush    In the first, Mike comes off his bike 🚴‍♂️, and in the second he’s hit by a car. 🚗

The Unravelling of The Harvey Specter ~ by thingsthatmakeme   It begins with a nosebleed.  Medical Trauma. 💉 10k.

Things I Need to Say ~ by 38leticia   Mike is found unconscious in the stairwell.

What more can I say, except I’m sorry / What more can I do, except keep on loving you ~ by Love2slash   Mike starts acting strangely around the office, eventually ending up in hospital.  The second part is rehab based.  Together 55k 

The Sweetest Things in Life are Free ~ by Stealthlamb1   Tanner hits Mike.

Night Shift / Night Shift II ~ by sal_si_puedes   Mike is in a coma after having been in an accident, the second fic is set 12 weeks later.

The Thunder of my Heart ~ by @cowandcalf   On a business trip in the forest 🌲, Mike is injured. 15k

Midnight Encounter ~ by Laughter_now   Mike has an accident while staying over. Harvey is beside himself. 12k

Say a Little Prayer ~ by Love2slash   Mike has a bike accident 🚲 on the way to work.  11k

Hearts Will Hold ~ by rories   When Mike is injured, Harvey recalls the good and the bad times in their relationship.

Reassurance ~ by Khasael   Harvey finally stops burying his feelings for his associate under loads of denial…and all it takes is Mike nearly dying on him.

Flashes ~ by Rayrawl   The associates play a prank on an epileptic Mike, with lasting consequences. 📸

This last one is not exactly ‘injured Mike’, but it’s hurt/comfort, and amazing.

In the Line of Fire ~ by VampirePam   A disgruntled former client with a gun comes looking for Harvey, and Mike impersonates Harvey to talk the man down. 🔫

Your Flowers Will be Waiting (Jared Kleinman x Reader)

Your Flowers Will be Waiting (Jared Kleinman x Reader)

Notes: I was listening to “I’m Me” by Us the Duo, and it reminded me of a headcanon I read somewhere saying Jared played clarinet in high school (which I LOVE). And then somehow I came up with an idea that involved a flower shop, and this happened! I also love headcanons about Jared not at all being an outdoors person, sooo idk I just feel like he probably has a pollen allergy (and also gets sunburned super easily and is very clumsy when he goes on hikes with Evan, but that’s for another fic, probably!!). Also, as you may remember from my other Jared fic, I am convinced he loves The Office and no one can tell me otherwise (I mean, come on, Michael Scott literally responds “Kinky!” to something Jim or Dwight says in the first episode).

Anyway. This is pure fluff.

Warnings: Tiny bit of swearing … also Jared makes a slightly crude comment about the romance novels his grandma reads.

Words: 4010

You’ve been watching customers meander in and out of the flower shop for the past three hours when the bell over the door announces the entrance of a boy with crooked glasses and a familiar smile.

An involuntary flutter goes through your stomach as you push your book aside and wave at him from your perch behind the counter. Ever since you graduated high school two months ago and started working here, it seems like he’s been in almost every time you’ve had a shift. At first you weren’t sure why—he never bought anything, just asked a bunch of questions about the various flowers. Once you asked if he was going to buy anything, and he said he was thinking about getting a bouquet for his nature-obsessed friend. You weren’t sure if he was kidding or not.

You’re still not exactly sure why he comes in, but it doesn’t matter so much anymore.

“Hey, Jared,” you call.

“Hey,” he replies. He slides his hands into the pockets of his shorts. “How’s it going?”

“Fine. We got some new flowers if you want to see them.” You motion toward the window display, which you spent a good chunk of your morning arranging. “They’re over there.”

“In a minute.” He comes to the counter and props his elbows on it, leaning toward you. It used to make you feel strange—you had gone through high school feeling pretty much invisible, and it was weird to have a boy talk to you so close, especially one you didn’t know. But now you don’t mind. If another guy did it, you might feel uncomfortable, but Jared does it in an oblivious kind of way like he just wants to hang out, not like he’s trying to hit on you.

Not that you would mind being hit on by Jared Kleinman.

The book you were reading before he came in rests amidst a scattering of stray leaves, its pages lying open to the middle. Jared taps a finger on it. “Whatcha reading today?”

The Prisoner of Azkaban.”

He huffs out a short laugh. “Harry Potter?”

You feel your cheeks flushing a little, but a smile you can’t control pops onto your face. “Hey, those books are classics. My grandma even read them.”

“Then your grandma is way cooler than mine.” He smirks. “I tried to make her read them in fifth grade, but she was too busy with semi-pornographic romances.”

“Oh god, I didn’t need to know that.” You cover your face with one hand and laugh. “Now I just have this horrible image of … that … in my head.”

“You’re welcome.” Jared pushes a finger under his glasses and rubs his eyes; they always get red and watery when he comes in, and he’s usually sneezing by the time he leaves. You used to think it would keep him from spending so much time here, but he told you his friend makes him go on hikes in the woods and those are way worse than this.

“So,” he says. “How late are you working?”

“I get off at four-thirty.” You tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear; your hair isn’t really long enough to put in a ponytail, but you still try to tie it back every day anyway. “Why?”

“Just wondering.”

You twist back and forth on your stool; it lets out a painful creak that makes a lady looking at flowers by the door glance over at you. You pick up one of the stray leaves from the counter and tuck it into the crease of The Prisoner of Azkaban to mark your spot, then close the book. “Aren’t you ever going to get a job?” you ask Jared.

“I’m trying to get an internship, actually. I want to get some experience under my belt so I’m not totally clueless when I start school.”

Jared is going to Rochester Institute of Technology this fall. He’s going to major in Computer Science, which, based on how much he’s rambled about gaming, the computer he’s been trying to build since ninth grade, and the miracles of the modern cell phone, doesn’t surprise you. He’s lucky, you think—from what he’s told you, it sounds like he’s always had some idea of what he wants to do. You, on the other hand, aren’t sure what you’re doing. You know you’ll be attending North Country Community College come August, but that’s about it.

“That’s a good idea,” you say. “Do you think you’ll get one?”

“Maybe. I probably won’t get paid, but I mean, I can always work on the weekends or at night, right?”

You finger the worn edge of your book; it’s soft from dozens of rereads. “I heard the 7 Eleven down the street is hiring.”

“Ha, ha.” He scratches his nose and shifts his weight so his side is leaning up against the counter. “What about you, loser? You decided what you’re going to school for yet?”

You smirk. It’s a question he asks almost every time he visits, and every time you make up a new answer. Yesterday it was Criminology with a minor in Icelandic Poetry, which both of you are pretty sure doesn’t actually exist. “Maybe Meteorology? And then maybe I’ll minor in Botany.”

Jared lets out a choked sound. “No. God, no, you can’t do botany.”

You laugh. “Why not?”

“Because I already have one friend who won’t freaking shut up about plants. I can’t deal with another one.”

“So we’re friends?”

He gives you a look. “I’m in here almost every day even though my eyes are burning out of their sockets, Y/N. Come on. Gimme some credit.”

A blush climbs up your neck and into your ears. You bite down on a smile and find another loose leaf on the counter to pick at. “You know, we don’t always have to hang out in here if it bothers you.”

He shrugs. “Don’t worry about it, I’m good. But I’d like to quit standing, if that’s okay.”

“Oh, yeah. Sorry.” The other customer is gone now, so you motion for Jared to come sit on the extra stool behind the counter. He scoots around the corner of the counter and climbs onto the stool; for an eighteen-year-old boy, he’s a little short, and his Vans hang a good way above the floor.

“So,” you say. “Am I ever going to meet your other friend?”

Jared takes his glasses off and cleans them on the corner of the button-down shirt he has layered over his green R2D2 shirt. “You’ve met him.”

“When?”

“In school.”

You make a face at him. “I didn’t go to school with you.”

“Yeah, you did.”

You cross your arms over your chest. “No, I didn’t. I would remember that.”

Jared smirks. “Why, because I’m so charming?”

“Because you’re so obnoxious.”

“Wow, nice. Thanks.” Jared slips his glasses back on. “I was in band with you in eighth grade. Remember?”

You cringe a little at the memory of middle school band. Your parents thought you should try playing an instrument, so you tried the flute—and failed. “I spent most of band hiding in the bathroom because I sucked so bad. So no, I don’t remember.”

“Okay, well, I was there.”

“What did you play?”

“Clarinet.” He picks a leaf off the counter and rolls the stem back and forth between his thumb and forefinger. “I spent most of band seeing how loudly I could make it honk.”

“Oh my god. I remember that.” You can’t help but start laughing. When you weren’t hiding in the bathroom, you kept your head ducked so no one would notice you. But there’s still an image in your head—a memory of a short, pudgy kid blowing on his clarinet until his face went bright red and the teacher screamed herself hoarse. “Was that you that honked right in the middle of The Blue Danube?”

“Yep.” He tears the tip off the leaf. “That was the most epic moment of my middle school band career. Also my last.”

“Did they kick you out?”

“Yep. So instead I had to do some stupid wood workshop.” He rips another piece off the leaf. “Majorly boring.”

“I can imagine.” You watch him shred the last bit of the leaf. “God, I can’t believe I didn’t know that was you. We didn’t go to the same high school, though, right? I switched after freshman year.”

“Yeah, I know. I think we had, like, Spanish I or something together before you left.”

“Did I have any classes with your friend?”

“Probably, although if you didn’t remember me, then you probably won’t remember him.”

“Why not?”

He reaches onto the counter and begins to scoop all the stray leaves into a pile. “’Cause he’s quiet.”

“I thought you said he wouldn’t shut up about plants.”

“Well, that’s true. But that’s just with me. He’s quiet around big groups of people.” He lifts a rose leaf and inspects it. “He’s actually the reason I came in here in the first place.”

You raise an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”

“He had this first date with this girl he met at work—he works at a state park, can you believe that? Anyway, he thought it would be cute to give her flowers but didn’t want to actually go buy them. So, being the nice guy that I am, I offered to get some for him.”

You roll your eyes. “Humble much?”

“Hey, I think it was a pretty nice thing to do. He’s the one who came up with the idea in the first place anyway.”

“Well, you never bought the flowers, and you’ve been back, like, a hundred times since then, so explain that.”

Jared snorts and points to himself. “Do I look like the kind of guy to know how the hell you’re supposed to make a flower arrangement?”

“We have premade ones,” you say. “And I offered to help. Remember?”

“Yeah, but remember you were watching The Office on your phone and we started talking about that and got distracted?”

The memory makes something soft and warm light in your chest. You had only been working for a few days and had been out of school for just over two weeks. You didn’t really have any friends from school, more just a few acquaintances, but you still missed the company of other people. Getting to chat with a random kid about your favorite show had eased some of that loneliness—especially when he showed up again during your next shift. “That was nice,” you say.

“I know. Which is why I came back.”

“You told me you were looking for flowers again when you came back.”

“Well, that too.” He scratches his nose in a bashful kind of way, almost like he’s trying to hide his face for a second. “I thought the whole flower idea was kinda good. So, I was going to try it.”

You smirk; the tips of his ears have gone pink, and he’s twisting back and forth on his chair. This might be the first time you’ve ever seen him act shy. “But again,” you say, “you never bought any flowers.”

“Because I realized it was actually really stupid. I mean, asking a girl out with flowers? Who does that?”

“I don’t know,” you say. “I think it sounds sweet.”

He wrinkles his nose. “Really?”

“Yeah. I mean, it’s a little cheesy, but flowers are nice.” You pull one of the leaves from his pile and twirl it between your fingers. “No one’s ever given me flowers, except my parents, and that doesn’t really count.”

Jared raises his eyebrows. “Seriously? You work at a flower shop but have never gotten any?”

Your face heats as you drop your gaze to the leaf pile. “Don’t act like it’s so shocking. I’ve just … I’ve never had a boyfriend.” You watch the way your leaf’s deep green colors blurs when you twirl it. “Does that make me seem lame?”

“No. I’ve been told guys in high school are dicks anyway.”

You glance up at him. “Did someone say that about you?”

“Only a couple times, and I wasn’t actually dating her anyway.” He puts an elbow on the counter and props his head up on a fist. He’s bent over a little, leaning a little closer to you, and you can see the bright blue of his eyes. There’s a tiny spot of warm brown in his right eye you never noticed before, and for some reason it makes your heart trip through several beats.

“So back to the flower thing,” he says. “Do you really think it’s not stupid?”

You laugh again. “Jared, I already told you, I think it’s cute. Why? Are you seriously telling me you haven’t asked out whoever you were going to ask out, like, two months ago?”

He shrugs. “Maybe.”

“Oh my god! Okay, I’m helping you pick out flowers and you’re asking today.” You scoot off your stool and move to get around the counter. “Do you know what kind of flowers she likes?”

“Why the crap would I know that?” he asks, following behind you as you stride toward the front of the store. “Just pick your favorites and I’ll get those.”

You roll your eyes at him but then focus on the task. The two of you wander around the store, Jared watching while you sift through the containers of flowers. You search for some of your favorites but also keep in mind that Jared probably doesn’t have a lot of money to spend on flowers. You’re pretty sure you can make it work; sometimes when there’s no one in the shop, you like to brainstorm new combinations of flowers.

Within fifteen minutes, you’ve gathered a mix of baby’s breath, soft yellow daisies, and lavender. Jared watches from his stool behind the counter while you clip the stems and arrange them in a narrow vase.

“I think this will be good,” you say, nestling a sprig of baby’s breath next to a large, pale yellow daisy. “It’s pretty without being too much. Too much would be cheesy.”

Jared pushes his glasses up to rub at his eyes; by now they’re bloodshot and watering enough that he’s wiping tears away before they can dribble onto his cheeks. “Are you sure about the lavender? It kinda smells.”

“It smells nice in small doses. I’m only putting a few sprigs in.” You glance up at him. “How soon are you giving this to her?”

“Soon.” He shifts so he’s leaning his elbow on the counter like he did earlier. “Today, maybe.”

“Are you giving them to her on the date, or asking her out with them?”

“Which do you think is less cheesy?”

You give him a look. “Are you really this insecure?”

He sputters a little. “No! Obviously not. I just want to do this right.”

You sigh a little, although you’re smiling. There’s something endearing about this nervous side of Jared. “I think you should wait until you’re on the date to give them to her. Unless you’re not going out for a couple of days. The baby’s breath will last for a while, but the daisies won’t do so well.”

Jared grunts and begins to pick at a sprig of baby’s breath lying on the counter. You swat his hand away. “Stop, you’ll ruin it.”

“This is just extra, you already have a bunch in there.” He leans forward to inspect the flowers you’ve already put in the vase. “So what did you say your plans were for when you get off work?”

“I don’t know. I’ll probably just read or watch TV or something.”

“Wow, that’s exciting.” He waves the sprig of baby’s breath at you. “You know, you should really get a life.”

You make a face at him, but the teasing smile on his mouth keeps you from snapping back at him.

“What are you doing when you quit stalking me?” you ask. “Calling this girl you’ve been pining over for two months?”

“Maybe so.” He ducks his head and sneezes into the crook of his arm, his shoulders shuddering. When he looks back up at you, the tip of his nose is pink, and he groans a little. “Ugh. How long until you’re done?”

“Just a second. Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m good.” He wipes his wrist across his nose and then props his head up on his fist. “You should give me your number, since you have no life and obviously need someone to get you out of the house.”

You scoff at him. “You don’t know if I have a life!”

“I’ve known you for two months and basically all you like involves TV, reading, and music.”

“And all you like involves video games and building computers.”

The corner of his mouth jerks up in a smile. “Touché. But I hang out with Evan, at least. Do you hang out with anyone?”

The question brings a familiar ache to your chest. These hours spent with him are like spots of sunlight in your week. The rest is almost all just gray loneliness. “No. I mean, I want to, I just … I don’t really know anyone.”

“Not even from high school?”

“Not really. I had acquaintances, not friends.”

“Okay, I definitely need your number,” Jared says. “You can’t just stay home anymore. Also, you and Evan would get along obnoxiously well.”

“Is Evan the kid who likes trees?”

“Who’s obsessed with trees, yes.” There’s a marker next to your register, and Jared moves off the stool to grab it. Once he’s back on his stool, he holds the marker above his forearm. “What’s your number?”

You want to insist you have a life, but both of you know you don’t. And it would be nice to make some friends.

You give him your number while you finish the flower arrangement. It’s a little sparse, but there’s something cute about it. It has a kind of rustic look, like it’s made from wildflowers. There’s something sweeter about it than the overly full bouquets you’re used to making.

For a moment, you let yourself be jealous of whatever girl will be getting the flowers, but then you brush the thought away.

Jared moves to the other side of the counter and digs through his pockets while you ring him up. You almost wish your boss was here to see the flowers; for the price Jared’s paying, it’s a pretty cute bouquet. It’s the first time you really feel like you knew what you were doing when you created it.

Once Jared has paid, you hand him the flowers. As he reaches for the vase, your number stands out on his forearm, the writing big and dark on his pale skin. You motion at it. “Don’t forget to text me sometime. You know, since my life is so boring.”

For some reason, the bashful smile he had earlier makes a reappearance, and you feel your heart flip inside you. “I will,” he promises.

***

You’re at home lying on your bed, an episode of The Office playing on your laptop. You smile a little—Jared would probably laugh if he saw you right now; he was right, you really do have no life. Not that getting to lay around watching TV isn’t nice. But it would also be nice to have people to go out and do things with.

You yawn and stretch your legs out on your bed. After Jared left the flower shop, work dragged by. Some lady came in and yelled at you for an order someone apparently messed up. You didn’t recognize her or the description of the flowers she wanted, so you’re pretty sure it was a coworker’s fault, but unfortunately they weren’t there to endure the yelling. You think you dealt with it well, but it left you a little frazzled and with a slight headache.

Beside you, your phone buzzes. A text from an unfamiliar number scrolls across your screen. Are you home yet?????

That stupid, uncontrollable smile from earlier yanks at your mouth again. It’s silly, considering you saw him just a few hours ago, but you don’t care.

Yes, you reply, then add, Stalker.

You expect a snarky response, but instead your phone rings.

You hold the phone to your ear with one hand and pause The Office with the other. “Hello?”

“Hey,” Jared says. The sound of his voice makes you wish you were back at the flower shop with him. “Whatcha doing?”

“Being boring.” You sit up, your legs crisscrossing. “Did you call that girl yet?”

There’s a slight pause. “Yes.”

“And? What did she say?”

“I’m not sure yet.”

You make a face. “I don’t get it.”

He sucks in a deep breath that makes static fuzz in your ear. “This is lame, but so are the flowers, so I’m just going—”

“The flowers aren’t lame,” you say. “We’ve already been through this.”

“Okay, okay, sure, the flowers aren’t lame. But this is.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, so unfortunately I can’t reassure you.”

He laughs, but it comes out a little wobbly. It reminds you of the sudden shyness that came over him in the shop today.

“Like I said, this is lame, but just listen,” he says. You wait for several seconds before he speaks again. “Do you want to go out?”

You blink at the paused image of Pam and Jim talking on your laptop. “Like … on a date?”

“Yes, like on a date.”

“I—yes, but I thought …” Your heart pauses for a second as it dawns on you. Your mouth falls open, and for a moment all you can do is breathe wordlessly. Then you start laughing. “Oh my gosh, you dork! You’re such a dork!”

“Rude!” Jared says, but you can hear laughter in his voice. “I just asked you out!”

“After waiting two months!” You fall back on your bed, laughing so hard your ribs ache. “You made me make my own flower arrangement,” you gasp out.

“Yeah, well, I would have done it, but you wouldn’t even let me touch the baby’s breath,” he says. “Also I had to take a bunch of Benadryl when I got home, so I think we’re even.”

You feel dizzy with excitement and laughter, and it takes a couple seconds for you to calm down enough to suck in a deep breath. Something happy is happening inside you, something fluttery and warm and ticklish in between your ribs. “Obviously I’ll go out with you,” you say. “When were you thinking?”

“I was gonna say tonight, but the Benadryl kind of knocked me out, so my parents won’t let me drive.”

“I can come over,” you say. “You know how much I love hanging around the house watching TV.”

“I definitely do.” He lets several seconds pass before adding, “That seems really lame for a first date.”

“Oh my god, Jared, get over yourself.” You cup a hand to your cheek; it’s flushed with excitement. “I’ll be over in an hour.”

“Are you sure?” he asks.

The giddiness inside fades into something warmer … softer. Despite the way he spends most of the time teasing you, Jared Kleinman is not as cocky as he seems. There’s a gentler, less sure side of himself, too, a side that makes you like him even more. You’ve been a little in love with that louder, more confident side of him since the first time he came into the shop and started chatting with you, and you can feel yourself falling fast for this deeper, more serious part of him.

You like Jared for all of him, and it makes your voice go quieter as you tell him, “I’m sure.”

“I’ll text you my address.” The smile you’ve come to look forward to so much over the past two months fills his voice, and it makes your stomach ignite with butterflies. “Your flowers will be waiting.”