i guess he picked up on a few things from her too

My Rich American Family

by reddit user aliceinvunderland

I am part of a rich American family, in a rich American suburb, full of rich American people.

Life is hell.

Every morning, me and the rest of the Wives get up at 5:00am sharp. Fifteen minutes of jogging around the neighborhood, five minutes in the shower (set to cold), twenty minutes for hair and makeup, and then five to get dressed. If we’ve managed that in time, meaning no later than 5:45am, we might be allowed solid food with our coffee.

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DOCTOR DREAMY | PT.2 [M]

pt1 | pt2 | (ongoing)

pairing: jimin x reader

genre: smut, fluff, slight angst + expecting parents au

word count: 11,035

request: sperm donor ex-boyfriend jimin

description: Okay, maybe in hindsight asking your ex-boyfriend, who you never really got over, to be your sperm-donor wasn’t the brightest of ideas.

cr. 


six years prior.

“Do you wanna have kids one day?”

Jimin tilted his head as if to ponder the idea before tugging you across the bed until you were leaning against his chest, curious eyes catching your own.  

“Sure, I mean one day. One day, far, far away,” He said, pointing his finger off into the distance jokingly.

You laughed, hand skimming along the back of his neck. “Yeah, me too.”

“Any particular reason why you’re asking?” He said as he began playing with the strands of your hair.

“I dunno,” You shrugged. “We’ve been dating for a long time, just thought that it’s something we should know about each other.”

Jimin nodded, “No, you’re right. It’s kind of something you should figure out before things get too far in the relationship… Guess we waited a bit too long, but we’re on the same page, so that’s good,” He smiled, leaning down to place a short peck against your lips.

“So that means you think that information will be put to good use one day?” You asked, quirking your brow to insinuate.

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i found this post in my drafts and have ZERO memory of writing it (thank u alcohol) so im gonna put it in my queue lol
  • ok but imagine 
  • Bitty comes out to his parents but he doesn’t tell them about Jack, thinks it’s for the best, maybe to ease his parents into things or maybe to keep the pool of People Who Know as small as possible 
  • and like yeah Ransom and Holster are super oblivious but Suzanne Bittle is not, not when it comes to her son, because she is a certified Nosy Southern Mother and she can see he’s been acting differently, happier but quieter, always on his phone and blushing when she asks about boys
  • and he talks about the team a LOT 
  • Jack’s one of his best friends and he’s just started his NHL career, so of course Bitty’s never gonna shut up about Jack
  • (Same goes for Shitty and law school. And eventually Ransom and med school. Dicky is proud of his friends and wants everyone to know. He gets that trait from Suzanne, she understands)
  • but he keeps talking about this one Boy, how sweet he is and how his smile is like a sack of puppies and how bitty’s always making this boy do things with him like baking and getting froyo and going shopping and Suzanne is like. Yes. This must be Dicky’s secret boyfriend. 
  •  the next family weekend or whatever, Suzanne demands to meet this Chowder boy who’s stolen Bitty’s heart
  • Bitty is both confused and mortified

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I don’t even know. I was taking a walk today and this idea popped into my head. I swear I’m still writing the bookstore AU, too. Also, *pops confetti*, I hit 2k followers today! Who ARE all you guys? Anyway, this fluff/ridiculousness is for you. ~1.6k words, rated G. Sterek, of course.

now also on AO3

The whole thing starts with Stiles really, really craving a meatball sub from the place across the street.

“God, someone shut him up,” Erica groans. They’re all kind of at their breaking point by now; they’ve been camped out in this meeting room all day, brainstorming. “He’s been talking about the same goddamn sandwich for seven and a half minutes now, and it’s making me hungry.”

“If only our ad campaign were about sandwiches, Stilinski would have it in the bag and we could all go home,” Isaac sighs.

From across the table, Derek rises abruptly to his feet and storms out. (Or maybe it’s just that Stiles always interprets everything Derek does as stormy. With those eyebrows, it’s hard not to.)

Stiles assumes he’s just gotten so fed up with them all that it’s either storm out or kill someone, and he’s just grateful Derek chose Door Number 1. It’s a good day not to get killed by Derek Hale.

Only, fifteen minutes later he comes back in. With a paper bag from the deli.

As soon as he gets within grabbing distance, Stiles practically collapses across the table in his haste to reach for it. “Oh my god, is that what I think it is?”

Derek holds it up over his head. “Who says this is for you? Maybe all your talk inspired me to go get a meatball sub of my own.”

“Oh, please. Like anyone with your abs eats meatball subs.” Stiles leaps to his feet on his swivel chair—because screw safety, Derek will catch him if he starts to topple over—and snatches the bag out of Derek’s grip. Derek doesn’t fight him for it very hard.

“Why don’t I get a meatball sub?” Erica whines, thumping her head down on her notebook. “Doesn’t anyone love me?”

Derek shrugs and takes his seat again. “You didn’t ask.”

“You just like Stilinski better,” she grumbles, and Derek just shrugs again.

Meanwhile, Stiles rips into the bag and takes a huge bite out of the gloriousness that is this sandwich. He can’t help throwing in a few theatrical moans just to taunt Erica, and she suitably rewards him with a glare of death across the table.

“Mmm,” Stiles says. “Derek, I love you so much, dude. Marry me.”

Instead of the grumpy eyebrows he expects, Derek meets his eye, leans back smugly in his chair, and says, “Okay.”

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Scumbag Aunt ripped off my Grandma for years, I put my nose in her business and had the IRS financially ruin her.

This is going to be long, so TL; DR; Aunt screwed over my Grandma for years, I put my nose in her business, got parents wise on the fraud and eventually reported her to the IRS. The long dick of the IRS bankrupted her and her husband and now they are destitute and too old to work. 


This happened about 5 years ago. My Grandma was getting old, late 80s/early 90s. She had one wish, to not die in a senior home. Easily done as my Grandpa sold some assets way back when, then invested the money and let it ride for 30+ years; he never touched it and collected a pension.

Way back when my Grandpa died, (about 10 years before this), my Grandma appointed my dad, this shitty aunt and my uncle as the Trustees of the trust. Basically the trusted advisors for her and her care for the foreseeable future. All was well in the beginning, then my dad (Willy) moved further away and couldn’t take care of the day to day upkeep as the Trustee and to see that my grandma was ok. My aunt (Rebecca) told her that she and my uncle (Fred, who lived in Arizona) could take over and all would be fine. It was fine for a while.

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spaces in between (m)

Pairing: Fratboy!Jung Hoseok x Reader

Summary: When you were maddeningly in love with your best friend/fuck buddy, bringing him as a date to a wedding was probably not the best idea.

Genre/Count: Smut & Fluff [ NC-17 ]   |   11.7k words

Note: alkewrjaer so excited to finally post this after sitting in my drafts for years. meet m’boy fuccboi!hoseok.


It was never a good idea and you should’ve stopped it from the first time, or the first week, the first month, before it went too far. But you didn’t. You were sucked into his world and him into yours. Although your lives were entangled from the very beginning, it was never meant to go this far.

Hoseok pushed himself into you again, feeling the tightness wrapping snugly around him as he released a low groan of pleasure. “Fuck, you feel so good, always so good.” He buried his face in your neck as you twisted your fingers into the soft strands of his chocolate locks. He growled and thrusted into you over and over, bringing you to the edge. “Babe, shit. Goddamn, you’re so tight. Pussy always so good for me. Only for me.” He jerked his hips particularly hard, hitting that delicious spot inside of you. “Tell me.”

“Only for you,” you echoed in a gasp, head thrown back as your body arched off the bed. His mouth captured one of your peaks. The heat a contrast against the cool of his room. His abs, defined and beautiful, were layered by a sheen layer of sweat as he pounded into you. Moans tumbled from both your lips, swallowed by his mouth covering yours.

“So goddamn beautiful,” he muttered, nipping his way down your jaw and your neck. He knew you hated it when he marked you, hated it because everyone could see. What he didn’t know was that you mostly hated it because it made things more real than it actually was. A whine left your lips as he continued to print shades of blue onto the canvas of your skin. “I’m so close, babe, come with me.”

And you would. You always did, after all. Your fingers found purchase on his broad shoulders as he moved faster, pushing into you deeper and harder. The tension coiled in your stomach as the electricity coursed through your veins and straight to the space between your thighs, space filled by, and only by, Hoseok. The orgasm wracked shudders in your body as you let out a cry, the same time Hoseok groaned into your neck. Heavy breaths heaved your chest as Hoseok pulled out with a small grunt and slumped onto the space next to you.

The two of you laid in silence for a few minutes. The deafening emptiness drawing your fears forward. It always happened. No matter how many times you’ve been in bed with him, you’ve regretted every single one. The two of you were stuck in this limbo with too many questions and not a single answer.

Answers you sought and answers he couldn’t give.

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Writing is Hard, Part 5: Headcanons

Summary: Dean shows the reader that there’s truth to a famous headcanon.

Read Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

Warning: Smut

Word Count: 3000ish

A/N: This is all written with love for fan fic. I’m teasing, not putting it down in any way. Hope you enjoy! (Sorry, tag list is closed!) XOXO


“Reading anything good?” Dean asks.

Sam’s inside the gas station, picking up some snacks instead of listening to this conversation, so your face doesn’t feel the need to flush with embarrassment. Dean already knows exactly what you’re reading.

“I guess,” you tell him. No need to feed his ego by telling him how hot the story is.

“What is it?”

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The Kissing Booth

A SnowBaz fanfiction


Simon

Once a year, usually in the spring, Watford stages a carnival for the students.  It’s usually quite humble, mainly consisting of booths selling small magic trinkets, or snacks like cotton candy, sweets and other classic carnival fare.  There’s always the tiny petting zoo over near the Cloisters, and some years Watford even scrapes enough together to bring in a carousel.  Most of the booths are run by student volunteers, and though everything is by donation, all proceeds go to whichever charity the student body has voted on.

           I go every year, mostly for the caramel apples and sweet cider, but this is the first year I’ve been behind the scenes of the carnival and helped at a booth.

           In truth, I didn’t even sign up for it, but Agatha hadn’t had a break all day and needed some cotton candy of her own.

           I should have told her to find Penny, or Trixie or even Minty.  Anyone but me.

           It doesn’t take long for the word to spread that Simon Snow has taken over the Kissing Booth, and mortifyingly the line has doubled in length.  Mostly first or second-year girls, blushing and stammering or swaggering up to the counter with a pronounced sway in their step, with the odd boy interspersed through the line.

           It’s not the worst thing that’s ever happened to me – that honour goes to the time in second year that Baz stumbled upon a spell that made my clothes slowly dissipate, garment by garment, in the middle of the dining hall – and after the first two or three quick, cold kisses I start to calm down, but I’m counting the minutes until Agatha comes back.  How she endured hours of this, I cannot comprehend.  That’s just Agatha, I guess.

           A redhead drops her donation into the tin and her eyes flit around, meeting me for only a split second at a time, her cheeks aflame.  I try to look as non-threatening as I can and lean forward enough that she can close the rest of the space.  She darts in with a kiss that’s no more than a peck before running over to a giggling pair of who must be her friends, a triumphant grin on her face. She must have been dared.  Poor girl.  I hope I wasn’t her first.

           “Well, well, well.”

           My stomach lurches at the cold drawl I know only too well.

           “What are you doing here, Baz?” I say in as civilized a tone as I can manage.

           He stands there with his arms crossed over his chest, his mouth in a twist that’s a bit too amused to be a sneer.  “When I heard that the Chosen One had taken over the Snogging Booth, I simply had to see it for myself.”

           “Well, now you’ve seen it, so now you can go.”

           “Saving the World of Mages one kiss at a time,” Baz murmurs with a chuckle.  “Not exactly what I was envisioning.”

           “I’m only covering for Agatha,” I retort, “she’ll be back in five minutes if you’re wanting her services.”

           He scoffs.  “I’d rather not snog your girlfriend, thank you very much.”

           “She’s not my – forget it,” I shake my head.  I’ve told him at least a dozen times, but it never stops him.

           “She must have been really desperate for a break to put you in charge,” Baz drawls on, his voice smooth like honey but with too much of a bite to be sweet.  “You’d think she’d at least pick someone attractive for the Kissing Booth.”

           It stings, but I don’t flinch.  “What, someone like you?” I spit back too fast.

           His eyebrows shoot up in delighted surprise as I realize my mistake.  “You flatter me, Snow,” he purrs, and I feel my cheeks heat up, but I furrow my brow tighter and hope it passes for anger.

           “Is there a reason you’re still here?” I growl as the burning spreads from my cheeks to my ears.  

           “As a matter of fact, there is,” Baz says, and his gray eyes look cool enough to staunch the flames at the tips of my ears, but the more I glare into them the more the fire rages.  “I’m here to torment you.”

           “Great, well you’ve done that.”

           “I wanted to see what you’d do.”  He leans on the edge of the counter, bringing his face far too close to mine for comfort. “What would the Mage’s Heir do if his nemesis showed up at the Kissing Booth?”

           “You can torment me any time,” I shoot back, “you’re holding up the line.”

           “Oh, yes, well,” he feigns conern, “I wouldn’t want to keep anyone from their kiss.”

           “Then go away.”

           His eyes narrow and he pretends to think.  “Mmm, no.  I don’t think so.”

           “Baz, I’m warning you.”

           “Terrifying,” he drones, “but this is too much fun.  Besides,” his eyebrow flickers up, “don’t you owe me a kiss?”

           I flash him a smirk of my own.  “Aw, Baz. If you were so desperate for a kiss, you could’ve just asked.”

           Baz, to his credit, doesn’t bat an eye.  “You think of that comeback yourself?”

           “There’s a fee, you know,” I ignore him, barely having to raise my voice above a murmur for him to hear me, he’s so close.  “You haven’t paid the fee, so I don’t owe you anything.”

           He doesn’t drop his eyes from mine, and the cool gray takes on the spark of a challenge.  Out of my periphery I see him reach into his pocket, and there’s the clatter of coins dropping into the tin.

           I should punch him.

           I should spit in his face.

           I wanted to see what you’d do.

           I take him by the lapels and crush his mouth under mine.

           He makes a muffled sound of shock.  To be fair, so do I, but mine is more angry than it is surprised.  I kiss him hard and rough, and it’s a bit of a juxtaposition because his mouth is oddly soft.  A face like his, you’d expect his lips to be made of marble, cold and unmoving, but he’s the farthest thing from unmoving.  I can’t tell if he’s struggling or if he’s kissing me back but his lips are so, so soft and I want to bruise them, mark them, bite them…

           I only stop when a series of wolf whistles reminds me that there are at least ten people watching us.

           Trying to salvage the illusion of control, I break away harshly, still gripping him by his collar.  The cocky smirk has dropped from his smooth features and now his face mirrors mine, a matching scowl, like I’ve crossed a dangerous line.  I probably have.

           “Was that what you wanted?” I growl.

           He doesn’t answer, just holds my gaze another few seconds before pushing back from the table, his lapels slipping out of my hands, and stalking away.

*** 

I don’t see Baz at the carnival after that, and I stay as long as the booths are open, perusing the same counters and feigning interest even after having looked through their contents three times.  I keep Penny company where she mans the popcorn booth, drizzling caramel over every few cartons, and I even get bored enough to hang around Agatha back at the Kissing Booth for a little while, until one too many patrons have asked if I’m available for service.  When she and Penny are freed we pet the goats at the petting zoo, the ones that Ebb has graciously volunteered for the event, and take a few spins on the carousel.  Only once the light has begun to fade and the signs are being lowered from their booths do the three of us part ways.  Even then, I offer to help Ebb get her goats back safely.

           Basically, I’m doing anything I can to put off going back to the room, but eventually I can’t avoid it any longer.  I’ve wandered the grounds enough times that the sun has properly disappeared behind the distant hills and I can barely see the ground in front of me. Even then I’m tempted to consider crazy alternatives like spending the night at Ebb’s place, but I’m pretty sure that would be against school rules anyway, and besides, I’ll have to face Baz eventually.  There’s no undoing what’s happened.

           When I finally trudge back into the room, he’s staring out the window at the moat, presumably trying to intimidate the merwolves, but he turns at the sound of the door.  His expression, though I don’t see it for long before I look away, is hard to read. Wide eyes and a furrowed brow, like he’s still mad at me for my stunt earlier, but there’s a bit of a questioning edge there, too.  Almost a where were you edge.

           Normally I have to start any type of conversation, but tonight he wastes no time. “What the hell was that, Snow?”

           There’s no question as to what he’s referring, and I can’t help but get angry again.  “Me? You’re the one who had to start something!”

           “Well, you didn’t have to react so drastically,” he mutters, crossing his arms and leaning against the wall by the window, the moonlight casting its glow on his skin and making him even paler than usual, almost transparent.  I half expect fangs to slide out from his lips for no reason and complete the picture.

           His soft, soft lips.

           “You were egging me on,” I seethe, the memory igniting the rage that I’d felt in the fractured moment before kissing him, “it’s your fault anything happened.”

           “Proud little hero,” Baz says with the slightest smirk, “can’t back down from a challenge.”

           “You know I can’t, not in front of people.”

           “Wouldn’t want them to think the Heir is a coward.”

           I feel like a balloon in me is swelling and deflating at once.  “But that’s just it, Baz,” I insist, anger momentarily aside.  “If they think I’m afraid, what reason do they have to hope?”

           He doesn’t answer right away, and for a second I think maybe he understands. I want so badly for him to understand.

           “No reason,” Baz eventually says, turning to look out the window again, “not with someone like you as the Chosen One.”

           I want to groan, to kick something, to shake him by the shoulders and make him look me in the eye and for once not fight me.  Have we ever in our lives made eye contact without there being some challenge between us?

           “Why did you have to get in that line?” I shake my head.  “There are so many other ways of tormenting me, lower-stakes ways.”

           “To be fair, I’ve already exhausted most of those,” Baz murmurs with a little shrug of his shoulders.

           “When have you ever been fair?”

           “Touché.”

           I’m tired of standing here at the door, so I kick off my shoes and sit down on my bed, trying not to think about how much closer I am to him now, still at the window, looking as vampiric as ever.  His gray eyes are positively silver in the moonlight, and the black of his hair looks silkier than ever, as if it’s soaking the rays directly into him. He almost glows.  I have to laugh a little, because more than once Baz has mockingly compared me, with my bronze curls and sky-blue eyes, to the sun, but he himself wears a halo of night.  If I am the sun, then Baz is most certainly the moon.  Distant, cold, mysterious, almost too pristine to touch.

           His gaze returns to me suddenly.  He raises an eyebrow in a wordless inquiry, and I realize I’ve been staring.

           “What exactly was it you expected me to do?”

           “At what point, Snow?” he gives a humourless laugh.  “You had more than one opportunity to react.”

           “When you paid the fee.”

           His tiny smile disappears.  “It doesn’t matter.”

           “It does.”

           “Drop it, Snow,” he says, the hardness returning to his eyes, and I know I’ve cornered him.  Drop it is Baz’s way of betraying himself, of saying there’s something that he doesn’t want to tell.

           “Was I supposed to kiss you?” I ask.  For some reason I have to know.

           “No.”

           “Then what?”

           “I don’t know, Snow, punch me.  Push me. Beat me to the ground.  Something.”

           My brow furrows in confusion.  “Wait. You wanted me to hit you?”

           He shrugs, more with his head than his shoulder.  “One of us has to get hurt, right?”

           I rise to my feet, and I’m face-to-face with him again, only his eyes are different this time.  Whereas at the booth he had betrayed no hint of doubt at our closeness, now there’s a flicker of something in the silver, something that feels a lot like the way my heart is racing in my chest, and it dawns on me.  He was putting on a show at the carnival, acting like nothing I could do would get to him, just as I had been.

           If they think I’m afraid, what reason do they have to hope?

           One of us has to get hurt, right?

           And suddenly it makes sense.

           There’s only a few inches between us, so it feels almost natural when I lean in and press the gentlest of kisses to his lips.

           He doesn’t kiss me back this time, but he doesn’t move away either.  “What was that for?” he asks when I draw back a second later.

           “You act like we’re so different,” I say wonderingly, “but we’re the same.”

           “How?”

           “What do you think we’d be if we didn’t have to fight each other?”

           I don’t miss the split second of longing in his eyes.  “Keep dreaming, Snow.”

           “Because I bet it would involve a lot more of this.”  I bring a hand up to his neck, my fingers instantly lost in the wavy tips of his hair and it’s exactly as soft as it looks bathed in moonlight.

           Baz closes his eyes like he has to collect himself.  “You’re the hero.  I’m the villain.  What more do I have to say?”

           “Fuck that,” I chuckle, “we both know that’s not true.  You’re a boy, and I’m a boy.  That’s all.”

           “Tell that to the rest of the world.”

           “I don’t care about the rest of the world,” I shake my head adamantly, “I want to know what you think.”    

           “About what?”

           “If there was no act, no reputation, no role to play,” I murmur, “if we were just two boys, what would you do?”

           Baz returns my gaze a moment, searching my eyes.    

           Then his lashes close and he’s kissing me, and my eyes drift shut again like I’m sighing in relief.

           I let my fingers tangle higher up in his hair while my other hand grips the front of his shirt like earlier, only without the anger of the afternoon.  He angles his head further and guides the kiss deeper, his hands gently gripping my waist and pulling me closer.  I melt against him, my mouth moving with his, my head swimming with his citrusy scent, and I can’t hold back the moan that escapes my throat when he takes my bottom lip between his teeth in a gentle tug. Suddenly I’m floating, weightless, and Baz gives a muffled sound of surprise when I press back a little harder.

           When we finally break apart, both of us gasping and dizzy, I immediately want more, want to line his neck with my mouth, want to feel his breath hitch when I reach the base of his throat, want to hear my name in his sigh.  Would he sigh Snow or Simon?  I want to know.

           “Please,” I whisper, dotting a kiss to the corner of his mouth, “can’t we just be two boys?”

           When I meet his eyes, they’re full of more longing than ever.

           In response, he kisses a soft, slow triangle pattern on my cheek, and I recognize the pattern of the three moles by my eye, and I can’t help but smile.

“We can try.”

Adult World (Jungkook smut)

Originally posted by nochuie

Description: You reveal to your friends that no one except yourself has ever made you cum. Jin in particular finds this interesting and dares you and Jungkook to go to the sex shop down the street and purchase a sex toy, for your own benefit of course.

Pairings: You x Jungkook, You x Taehyung, Jungkook x Taehyung (you know how truth and dare goes)

Basically: Taehyung is a cocky lil shit who features quite a lot. Jin is a mean lil shit and Jungkook is a very helpful lil shit ;)

Genre: Smut, Angst, Fluff (so much smut, like damn this was hot to write)

This fic includes: A brief boy on boy scene, swearing, alcohol, sex toys, explicit smut

Word count: 6k


“You’ve got to be kidding!” Jin practically howls with laughter, doubling over himself and nearly falling off the couch with laughter. You’re about to tell him off but Jungkook beats you to it.

“Shut up. It’s not that big of a deal.”

Jin sits up straight, looking down at Jungkook, who sits next to you on the floor, opposite Jin. He wipes the tears from his eyes, his laughter finally dying down. “Hey, don’t you think you should talk to me with a bit more respect?” He prods teasingly, but Jungkook doesn’t seem in the mood, his previous lighthearted spirit vanishing upon Jin’s insensitive comment.

Jungkook’s tone is excitingly stern, but not rude, “Yeah, I’ll show more respect when you show more respect to Y/N.”

You laugh, “Don’t worry about me, Jungkook. I don’t think I can take Jin very seriously, not when I highly doubt he’d even know how to make me or any other girl cum.”

The circle of friends in Taehyung and Jungkook’s apartment erupt into comical ‘oohs’ and ‘ahhs’.

“You got damn burned!” Jimin says, leaning over the bottles in the center of your various seated positions to high five you.

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accidentally?

Based on this prompt I said I’d fill a few days ago:

boss: “know why I called you in here?”
me: “because I accidentally sent you a dick pic”
boss: “accidentally?”

yup.

(on ao3)

“You need to stop pining after people you haven’t even spoken to,” Lydia says one day, probably because Derek—er, Mr. Hale, their boss—has just stepped through the front door of the cafe where they’re having lunch, and Stiles has trailed off mid-word to watch him walk up to the counter. In Stiles’ defense, he’s never seen Mr. Hale outside of the office before, let alone Mr. Hale wearing a leather jacket over his dress shirt. God, and Stiles thought the tailored suits were bad enough…

Anyway.

“Uh, I have too spoken to him,” Stiles says indignantly, tearing his eyes away from Derek’s broad back across the room. “One day I was coming out of the break room and I almost walked right into him and he said, ‘Excuse me,’ so then I said, ‘Oops,’ and he smiled at me. Kind of. A little bit. I mean, I interpreted it as a smile. There was some prolonged eye contact.”

Lydia abruptly stops stirring her fat-free latte to stare at him—one of those Oh god, it’s worse than I thought kind of looks. “That’s it?”

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STAR WARS is really good for time travel fic, the urge to give the characters a chance to fix things, now that they have an idea of what went wrong or what to look out for, while still having to relive so many painful things, that balance of suffering and yet it’s worth it for the hope it offers, it’s exactly what the best fic is made of. I LOVE TIME TRAVEL FIC SO MUCH, so I’ve collected together a bunch of my favorites!
(Last Updated: 2017.04.19)

Shadows of the Future by stormqueen873, obi-wan & anakin & qui-gon & cast, 129.3k
   ObiWan lost the duel on Mustafar, but instead of dying, he finds himself on a ship leaving Tatooine, with his old Master and a familiar young boy. As events begin to unfold, can he stop the future he knows from occuring?
Lost Reflections by esama, obi-wan & ben, 30.k wip
   Obi-Wan didn’t become Qui-Gon Jinn’s apprentice, and Ben didn’t exile himself to Tatooine. On Bandomeer the two meet.
Threads of the Past by Magier74, obi-wan & anakin & qui-gon & xanatos, 37.8k
   Obi-Wan and Anakin make an unexpected detour returning home from a mission.
time to change the road you’re on by wreckageofstars, obi-wan & anakin & ahsoka & cast, 24.3k wip
   The end of the Clone War is near - the fall of the Republic even nearer. Anakin Skywalker, caught up in the events that lead to the rise of the Empire and the loss of everything he holds dear, finds himself sent nearly two decades into the future.
Tano and Kenobi by FireflyFish, obi-wan & ahsoka & cast, 54.3k wip
   Master Skywalker always said “The Force works in mysterious ways” and Ahsoka Tano has to admit, getting thrown backwards in time by about forty years was very mysterious.
these are the good old days by QueenWithABeeThrone, han & obi-wan & anakin, 2.3k
   Han Solo, after being killed by his own son, wakes up as an eight-year-old on Corellia, then runs away from home. just his luck (or the Force) that his ride crashes on a world being squabbled over by the Republic and the Separatists. just his luck (or the Force) that he runs into Anakin Skywalker and Obi-wan Kenobi, too.
set this dance alight by QueenWithABeeThrone, obi-wan & ahsoka & han & cast, 3k wip
   “And don’t call me squirt.” “You’re shorter than I am,” Tano shoots back, “I get to call you anything I like.” or: Han Solo finds the Millennium Falcon a decade or so earlier than scheduled, and Obi-wan Kenobi finds himself adjusting to his new padawan while on the job.
White Rabbits by Butterfly, obi-wan/anakin & background anakin/padme & luke & leia & han & cast, NSFW, time travel, 102.5k wip
   Through the Force, everything is connected. Anakin and Obi-Wan find this out first-hand.
Futurus (-a -um) by cadesama, anakin/padme + obi-wan/anakin/padme + luke & leia & mon mathma & ahsoka, mildly nsfw, 53.2k wip
   Cracked hyperdrive? No problem. Just hold it together with the Force. Time travel? Well. That could be a bigger problem.
One Day More by CalaisKenobi, obi-wan & qui-gon & anakin & cast, 31.2k
   Obi-Wan is given the opportunity to make some changes in his past. With the help of some old friends, and the hindrance of some old enemies, the Galaxy will be forever changed.
Wake the Storm by bedlamsbard, obi-wan & anakin (pre-slash) & cast, 75.4k
   Considering that he had picked up what was probably a Sith artifact, promptly passed out in the middle of a war zone, and apparently woken up twenty years in the future with Obi-Wan having taken up residence in his head, Anakin thought he was entitled to have a few questions.
Old Man Luke by scarletjedi, obi-wan & anakin & luke & cast, 10.4k wip
   Obi-Wan narrowed his eyes. “Who are you?” He asked, hoping a direct question would yield answers. The old man seemed adept at side-stepping information when asked a bit more deftly. “I’ve never heard of a Master with your level of talent.”
Hello From the Other Side by DarthNickels, anakin & luke & han/leia & kylo ren & piett, body swap, time travel, 16.7k wip
   Kylo Ren is destined to take up the mantle of Vader. The Force can be incredibly literal.
I Found You by KeeperofSeeds, obi-wan & shmi, ~1k
   A pregnant Shmi makes it to the Jedi Temple and immediate seeks out and finds the boy who was (will be?) her son’s Master/brother/teacher/friend. The boy who became the man to sacrifice himself for her grandchildren. The One who shared her Visions.
went back and put up a fight by springsoldier (ladydaredevil), obi-wan & anakin & ahsoka, 2k
   She probably shouldn’t trust the wish-granting Sith artefact. (In which Ahsoka makes a brave attempt at hugging the Dark Side out of Anakin)
Tumblr Ramblings (Obi-Wan Time Travel/AU-jump) by gaealynn, obi-wan & anakin & qui-gon & cast,
   At the end of RotJ, Obi-Wan reaches out a hand to help Anakin cross over and instead – wakes up on Naboo.
Hollow by JennMel, qui-gon & obi-wan & anakin & others, 5.6k
   Obi-Wan has always had a secret. And Qui-Gon could not, must not, ever know. If he did, then they would never even make it to Tatooine, let alone deal with the rest to come. One perfect possible future, that’s all Obi-Wan needed to achieve…that’s all.
Conversations at the Intersections of Time by Sentimental Star, obi-wan & anakin & qui-gon, 5.2k wip
   What happens when a thirteen-year-old Anakin Skywalker and his twenty-nine-year-old Master get snatched back in time, only to come face to face with a fifteen-year-old Obi-Wan…and a very much alive Qui-Gon Jinn?
Tumbling Star Wars by esama, obi-wan & anakin & qui-gon & padme, 4.9k
   Various Star Wars snippets. Some crossovers.
The Dark Path Lit by Sun and Stars by delicatefury, obi-wan & luke & leia & han & cast, time travel, ~4k
   Obi-Wan wakes up in the middle of a space battle. Or rather he doesn’t. Regardless, a dogfight is no place for an existential crisis.
TDPL Snippet - Leia and Obi-Wan by delicatefury, obi-wan & leia, 1.9k
   In honor of Carrie Fisher, here’s the first Leia POV scene I wrote for The Dark Path Lit by Sun and Stars.
TDPL snippet - The Padawan Discussion, round 2. by delicatefury, obi-wan & luke, 2.4k
   “I know… I know I made a big deal about being a Jedi like my Father,” Luke beings. “And I’m not taking it back,” he hastens to add. “I wanted to be a Jedi at first because he was. I guess I just wanted to know him in someway. But I didn’t wanna be a Jedi like my Father, y’know?
There’s Still Time to Change the Road You’re On by victoria_p (musesfool), anakin & luke & leia, 3.6k
   “Time travel? Are you kriffing kidding me?”
I’ll Be There For You by SinkingLikeASunset, obi-wan/anakin/padme (eventual) & qui-gon & clones & cast, 40.7k wip
   Just days after his fateful encounter with Anakin on Mustafar , Obi-Wan has resigned himself to a lonely existence on Tatooine. However, he has been granted a chance to go back and fix things. Obi-Wan must alter events and make changes as he struggles with memories of a dreadful future and deals with new developments this time around.
untitled by cadesama part 1 / 2 / 3, obi-wan & anakin & leia & rey & padme & finn & poe & cast, 2.7k wip
   A decade ago, Leia would have considered this a headache. Perhaps a nightmare. Now, she was mostly bemused.
of deserts and droids by songstress, rey & anakin, 3.9k
   Rey accidentally time-travels, and realizes that Jedi are even more weird than she had ever imagined.
Tumbling Star Wars by esama, obi-wan & anakin & qui-gon & padme, 4.9k
   Various Star Wars snippets. Some crossovers.
One Day More by CalaisKenobi, obi-wan & qui-gon & anakin & cast, 31.2k
   Obi-Wan is given the opportunity to make some changes in his past. With the help of some old friends, and the hindrance of some old enemies, the Galaxy will be forever changed.
Conversations at the Intersections of Time by Sentimental Star, obi-wan & anakin & qui-gon, 5.2k wip
   What happens when a thirteen-year-old Anakin Skywalker and his twenty-nine-year-old Master get snatched back in time, only to come face to face with a fifteen-year-old Obi-Wan…and a very much alive Qui-Gon Jinn?
Tumbling Star Wars by esama, obi-wan & anakin & qui-gon, 11.2k
   Various Star Wars snippets. Some crossovers.
The Dark Path Lit by Sun and Stars by A_Delicate_Fury, obi-wan & anakin & ahsoka & luke & leia & cody & cast, time travel, 4.3k wip
   After a disaster on the cosmic scale that Obi-Wan is still trying to wrap his mind around, he finds himself back in the early days of the Clone Wars, Commander Cody loyally at his side, Anakin at his back, and Sidious plotting against the Jedi at every turn. He’s been given an unasked for chance to do everything over again. And with the Force as his ally, he intends to set the galaxy on a brighter path than its current trajectory.
The Reality of Change by midnight_vision, obi-wan/anakin/padme & ahsoka & cast, time travel, 66k wip
   Padmé dies on Mustafar and wakes up in the past, about a year before everything falls apart. She’s determined to make sure none of it happens again, and with some help, she tries to expose Palpatine for what he really is. But even if Anakin and the Republic can be saved, that doesn’t mean the outcome will be something any of them want.
From a Certain Point of View pt 1 / pt 2 / pt 3 / pt 4, obi-wan & anakin & padme & ahsoka & sidious & cast, 7.5k
Tumblr Ramblings (Obi-Wan Time Travel/AU-jump) by gaealynn, obi-wan & anakin & qui-gon & cast,
   At the end of RotJ, Obi-Wan reaches out a hand to help Anakin cross over and instead – wakes up on Naboo.
The Fires by Driverpicksthemooseic (Ratkinzluver33), obi-wan/anakin & hinted obi-wan/anakin/padme, 4.2k
   He wakes quickly and without thought, breaking through the barrier of unconsciousness to find himself face down on the floor of a starfighter. (OR, Groundhog Day. ROTS, Battle of Mustafar, Full-On Groundhog Day. Yes, I am a masochist, thank you for asking.)
Where Have We Come? by soaring_heart, obi-wan & anakin, 1.9k
   The first time was one of the hardest and the easiest. Obi-Wan loses at Mustafar, but instead of dying he wakes up at the dawn of the last day of the republic, doomed to repeat the worst day of his life, over and over again.
All Over Again by tricksterity, obi-wan/anakin & qui-gon & shmi & cast, time travel, 27.7k wip
   Obi-Wan Kenobi is sixteen years old when he collapses in the training salle to the shock of his master, Qui-Gon Jinn. When he wakes up two days later after multiple seizures and flatlining once, he remembers the Clone Wars, remembers Mustafar, remembers being cut in half by the man he loved more than anything in the universe, and he remembers Luke and Leia.
Soldier, Poet, King by Glare, obi-wan/anakin & qui-gon & mace & dooku & palpatine & cast, sith!obi-wan, NSFW, 95.4k wip
   Second chances are very rarely given, but the Force smiles upon two of its favorite children and returns them to a time before their actions have met their consequences. Anakin Skywalker, also known as Darth Vader, seeks redemption while Obi-Wan “Ben” Kenobi, disillusioned with the Jedi Order and its Code, falls to the Darkness.

full details + recs under the cut!

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Goodnight Texts: ReggiexReader! Oneshot

Hey guys! I dunno, I had this idea but I’m not too happy with how I executed it in this oneshot. More oneshots will be coming soon so sorry if this is bad!

Summary: (Y/N) can’t sleep so decides to text her boyfriend Reggie. This slowly turns into a mini sexting session.

Warnings: NSFW, I guess? Allusions to smut. Cussing.

Originally posted by joeck

(gif not mineeeee)

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The Name Game

The Name Game (m)

Word count: 3.1k

Genre/warning: smut, literally no plot - I legit was having some Tae feels and wanted a dirty talk, fuckboy one shot. So this is the result.

Also for my baby girl, @borderlinehc hope you enjoy. 

Pairing: Taehyung x Reader

Summary: You invite some of your friends over for a small party. When a tame night in turns into a dirty one. Your friend Hoseok comes up with a fun game for you all to participate in.

You were rushing around your house getting everything ready at the last possible second. It was only some of your closest friends coming over but you still wanted the house to look good. Especially if Taehyung might show up. He said he had to work but he would try and get his shift covered. You felt like such a teenager but you really did have such a big thing for him.

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Wait, what?

(based on this) (look, there’s a part two)


Yuuri barely has time to grab his jacket when he runs out the door, much less brush his hair or find a hat. Unfortunately, he’s sure that that means that his hair is an absolute mess. It’s been getting long again, but in between classes and helping Yura out with his routine on the weekends, he hasn’t had much time for things like haircuts. Besides, Victor doesn’t seem to mind it, and Yura likes to experiment hairstyles on Yuuri “so that if it looks stupid, I don’t have to see it on myself.”

It’s not that big a deal, except on days like this, when he sleeps in (thanks a lot Vitya) and doesn’t have the time to really get it under control. He usually meets up with his friends before class, and he doesn’t doubt that they’ll notice, and probably tease him about it.

They notice.

“Yuuri!” Estephania gasps, sounding too scandalized for her words to be anything but teasing. “What on earth happened to your hair?”

Yuuri flushes. “I was running late,” he mumbles.

Richard snorts. “You sure? Because that looks more like sex hair to me, man.”

“Ooh, he’s right,” Estephania coos before Yuuri can protest.

He wonders if it’s possible to die of embarrassment (especially since they’re not entirely wrong). “No, really I–”

“We know, sweetie.” She reaches up and moves his hair around a bit, trying to make it look presentable. “You’re just too easy to tease.”

“You sure you’re really twenty seven?” Richard raises an eyebrow.

Yuuri just smiles at the ground in fond humiliation (apparently it’s not a common emotion, but it’s a little hard not to be used to the feeling when he’s married to the world’s biggest drama queen) and nods. “I am.”

His friends are too much sometimes, he admits. Richard is the embodiment of America in a lot of ways: loud, completely lacking a sense of social norms, a walking personification of testosterone. Estephania is less… everything… than Richard, but she’s very touchy and affectionate in an entirely platonic way that reminds Yuuri a lot of Christophe, only without all of the innuendo. But they’re both loyal down to their very core, and they’re not bad people.

His phone starts ringing, Stammi Vicino playing loudly. Yuuri picks up, keeping his phone away from Estephania’s hands. “Да, Vitya?”

“Dude! You speak Russian too?” Richard looks like Yuuri just smacked him in the face. The school year just started, so they’re all still learning about each other.

Yuuri just smiles, since Victor is in the middle of one of his usual mid-morning crises. “Vitya, calm down,” he says in Russian. “Makkachin is probably out with Yura. You know he takes her for walks sometimes. Have you seen him today?”

He manages to get Victor off the phone just before class starts, flipping his phone to airplane mode since he’s sure that this isn’t the last he’ll be hearing from his lovable trainwreck of a husband.



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Only Way To Live - Stiles Stilinski

Author: @mf-despair-queen

Characters: Stiles Stilinski/Reader

Word Count: 4818

Warnings: Kinky Filth, NSFW, 18+, Oral (Female Receiving)

Notes: Honestly, I’m kinda mixed about this entire thing? I don’t think it’s as good as some of the other stuff I’ve written. The idea was so good for this too! I got the idea from an episode of Attack of Titan while I was in my slump. So, please, any feedback ya’ll have would be appreciated.

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Glitter Ball

I’ve been seeing some discussion in past few days about how unrealistic it is that Bitty doesn’t hang out with other queer kids at Samwell, which is a valid point, and it reminded me I had a fic languishing in my drafts folder that involved an expanded look at the LGBTQIA group on campus, so I figured maybe the time had come to post it. It’s more about Dex than Bitty, because I started it as a response to the “Dex is homophobic” discourse, so this is from a “Dex has never been straight, he just doesn’t think it’s any of your business” perspective.

(It’s the beginning of a longer fic called “I Abhor You/I Adore You” that’s kind of an exercise in filling in all the gaps between the Nurseydex tweets and fleshing out the non-hockey parts of Samwell, but who knows if I’ll ever finish it.)

~4.5k, pre-slash Nurseydex, mostly Dex POV, guest appearances by Bitty, Holster, and a few OCs from the LGBTQIA group. Location of the IT helpdesk across the hall from the resource center entirely stolen from my own tiny liberal arts school, “the little gay college in the middle of Iowa.”

Read it on AO3 (now with the second chapter as well).


First year, first semester

Dex got a job with the helpdesk almost as soon as he got to campus. This wasn’t exactly normal for an unknown, untested, untried, and undeclared first year student, but he had references from his high school job and there was a constant shortage of people who actually knew how to do anything with hardware. Which, of course, was the thing most of the professors actually needed help with. They weren’t actually receiving a lot of emergency Python coding calls; they needed someone who could “make the goddamn printer talk to the computer” without pissing anyone off by being too condescending.

He enjoyed it; compared to having to do the same thing in a retail environment, this was downright relaxing, and he at least had some confidence the people he was helping weren’t complete idiots. He could even leave behind a Post-It of step-by-step instructions of how to fix the problem themselves next time and have it be followed at least 50% of the time! Not to mention his work-study hours as a student athlete were actually capped and enforced so he wouldn’t work himself to death. So relaxing when compared to high school, when he’d had to juggle IT work, lobster fishing, hockey, and grades good enough to get some kind of scholarship.

Since he’d gotten to campus early to start pre-season practice with the hockey team, he’d been able to establish a work routine before adding in classes, which had been helpful. The CS classes at Samwell were certainly more demanding, but that was why he was here, wasn’t it? All in all, he was pretty satisfied with how things were shaping up. (Now if only his d-partner weren’t such an entitled brat…)

Once the other students got back to campus, it became clear the helpdesk office wasn’t the only thing housed in the weird little building at the edge of campus. He was just ending a shift when a girl stuck her head in the door. “Would it be possible to get some quick help from anybody? It’s just across the hall.”

“I can do it,” Dex said. “I was just about to leave anyway.”

“Thank you!” She led the way into what appeared to be an all-purpose meeting room. The door now had a handmade rainbow sign taped to it, proclaiming it the Stonewall Resource Center. “We’re having our first meeting of the year tonight, and of course the one person who remembers how to work the projector is on study abroad this semester.”

“No problem. You hooking it up to a laptop?”

“Yeah.”

Dex walked over to the AV podium at the front of the room and fished out the giant cluster of cables and dongles. “Hopefully one of these will work, but we have adapters in the office for just about anything. Bring it over.” A minute or so later, he had everything working.

“Thank you so much!”

“Sure. I mean, it’s my job anyway.”

“Do I need to file a ticket or something?”

“Eh, whatever.”

“Um, you’re welcome to stay for the meeting if you want…”

“What’s it for? I mean, I can guess, but your sign wasn’t even up when I came in at the beginning of my shift, so, you know.”

“Yeah, basically it’s just a beginning of the year informational meeting for students about LGBTQIA resources on campus and a way to get those of us who are returning students to get started organizing other events. So maybe not super interesting.”

“No, it sounds like good information to have. I’ll stick around.”

She smiled at him. “Great! I’m Sam.”

“Will. Or Dex. I answer to either.”

“Nice to meet you.”

***

“So do you think you’ll come back?” Sam asked after the meeting was over. Dex had stayed to help her turn off the projector and leave a sticky note with the steps written down. (He was thinking about getting a set custom-printed with “Helping You Help Yourself!” across the bottom, though he suspected his boss would find this too snarky.)

“Probably not. I mean, not to regular meetings or anything—you can totally ask me for help anytime! I’m just kind of… past the place where I need this kind of group? And I’ve got hockey practice and CS classes that are kind of the point of my being here, so they take priority, you know?”

“Sure thing.”

“But you know where to find me! Seriously, I’m always happy to help. It looks like a great group. But I know I can’t commit to anything.”

“Cool. I’ll see you around then, yeah? Oh, hey, if you have any time on Friday, you should come to the softball game. We’re gonna slay.”

Dex grinned and offered his fist for a bump of solidarity. “You’ll have to come to a hockey game once the season starts.”

“Definitely.”

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The Reader and the Writer (Part 3)

Originally posted by juptern

Part one here    Part two here

Anon requests: Will you please do part 3 of the reader and the writer

You’re writing is so amazing, it’s what keeps me alive 😂😍 so thank you for doing such an amazing job and I hope you’re having an amazing day 💜 And I was wondering if you consider writing a part 3 of The Reader and The Writer someday? Because I’d love to read more of it 🙈

Please please PLEASE do a Part 3 to the reader and the writer? It’s amazing x

Omg! Part 3 please gor he reader and the writer 😍😍😍😍😍😍😍

PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PART THREE OF THE READER AND THE WRITER PLEASE

PART 3 OF READER AND THE WRITER

Part 3 of Reader and Writer?? Cause you are too good to us??? Like thank you??? 💞I swoon for your writing 💞

I NEED PART THREE OF THE READER AND THE WRITER ASAAAPPPP

The Reader and the Writer (part 2) was amazing and so are all ouf your writings ! I can’t wait for a part 3 !

Will you do a part 3 of the reader and the writer??

I know you just posted but WOW I NEED A PART THREE OF THE READER AND THE WRITER GIRL YOU TOO GOOD!!!

OMFG PLEASE PART 3 OF THE READER AND THE WRITER AAAAHHH I’M SO GLAD I REQUESTED IT YAAASSS YOUR WRITING IS PERFECT AND AMAZING I LOVE YOU <3

I!!! AM!!! SHOOK!!!! I NEED PART 3 OF READER AND THE WRITER WOWOWOWOW ITS AMAZING

Pairing: Jughead x Reader

Description: The reader returns, and she offers the writer some explanations that he’s been waiting for

Warnings: none

Word count: 1,041

A/N: It’s here! I am so so so sorry for making you guys wait this long, I had so much going on this week and I had barely any time to write at all. I hope this makes up for it, enjoy!


Jughead didn’t expect for (Y/N) to return to Pop’s; in fact, he thought she’d leave town.  However, the following night he was proven wrong when she walked in and sat across him in their usual booth.

“You’re here,” he stated. (Y/N) quirked an eyebrow.

“You expected otherwise?” she inquired, crossing her arms.

“Well, to be fair, I hadn’t seen you in about a month before yesterday,” Jughead defended himself.  (Y/N) sucked in a breath and went to contradict him, but she realized he was right, so she shut her mouth.  They sat in silence, both of them avoiding eye contact with each other.  Finally, (Y/N) sighed and broke the quiet.

“So I’m guessing you want to talk about it,” she said, not even bothering to pull out a book.  Jughead nodded as he closed his laptop.

“I think I deserve a bit more information than the fact that you were born in Riverdale,” he grumbled.

“You do,” she agreed.

“So why did you think that was important to tell me?” Jughead began the interrogation. “Out of all the things to say to stop me from leaving, why that?”

“Well it worked, didn’t it?” (Y/N) attempted to joke, but Jughead didn’t even crack a smile.  She sighed and continued.  "I don’t know, because that’s the beginning. I’m a reader, Jug, I like to start at the beginning of a story.“

"And so your beginning started here.”

“Yes.”

“But then you moved somewhere else?” Jughead asked.  (Y/N) nodded.  "Why?“

"Because we had to,” she responded.  "My parents were… unpleasant people, to say the least.  Bad people tend to mingle, and thus my parents met the Blossoms.“  Jughead’s head perked up at the mention of the family.

"The Blossoms?” he echoed.  "As in Jason Blossom?“

"No, the other notorious Blossom family in Riverdale,” she rolled her eyes, sarcasm oozing from every word.  "Yes, Jason Blossom’s family.“  Jughead’s silence signaled for her to continue.  “My family and their family had this long-lasting feud for as long as I can remember.”

“So is that why you left?” he asked.  “Because of the feud?”

“Yes,” she answered tentatively, “and no.  It’s complicated.  You see, I didn’t leave Riverdale with my parents.”  (Y/N) paused for a moment, biting her lip.  “My parents were murdered.”  Jughead’s eyes widened as he realized the severity of her situation.

“The Blossoms did it?” he immediately assumed.  (Y/N) shook her head.

“Not that we know of,” she replied.  “They never figured out who did it.  Yes, the Blossoms were high on the suspect list, but personally, I don’t think it was them.  They’re too snobbish to actually murder someone.”  The pair fell into a silence, Jughead attempting to soak up all the information he was just given.  (Y/N) lazily glanced around the dinner, scanning the strangers’ faces.

“Why’d you come back?” Jughead spoke up.  (Y/N)’s eyes flicked back to his face.

“They were about to sell our old home,” she shrugged.  “My aunt was infuriated, so she packed up all our things and moved here.” Jughead had so many more questions swirling around his mind, but when he observed (Y/N)’s face, he saw how tired and deflated she looked.

“I’m sorry,” he apologized, “this is too much for you.  I shouldn’t have pressured you to tell me everything at once.”

“No, it’s fine,” she insisted, shaking her head.  “I want to tell you, I… you deserve to know.”  Jughead reached across the table, grabbed (Y/N)’s hand, and gazed at her in a manner she couldn’t quite distinguish.  He didn’t say anything, and neither did she.  They just sat there in the booth, on a quiet day in Pop’s, Jughead holding (Y/N)’s hand and she was letting him.  Without speaking, she understood what he was trying to tell her: there was nothing left to say.


For the next two weeks, neither Jughead nor (Y/N) said anything to each other.  They still went to Pop’s every night, and they sat together at the same booth.  But (Y/N) always had a book, and Jughead always had his laptop.  Frequently, when one of them wasn’t looking, the other would glance up and stare for just a moment.

On a slow Tuesday, Veronica entered Pop’s.  She was only there to pick up the food she and her mom had ordered, but she noticed (Y/N) and Jughead sitting together at a booth, and so she sped over there.

“You’re back,” she noted, sitting down next to (Y/N).  She glanced up, putting Frankenstein down, and shot Veronica a timid smile.

“I’ve been back for a few weeks,” she responded.  Veronica furrowed her eyebrows.

“Really?” she questioned, shifting her gaze to Jughead.  He didn’t look up from his computer.  (Y/N) awkwardly nodded, turning back to her novel.  Veronica glanced back and forth between (Y/N) and Jughead, waiting for one of them to say something.  “Do you guys ever talk?”

“It’s not always necessary,” Jughead replied, rolling his eyes.

“Well yeah,” Veronica shrugged, “but you guys are dead silent.  Neither of you have spoken to each other since I got here.”  When neither of them replied to her comment, Veronica understood that she was unwanted and left.

The two sat in silence for another hour before Jughead interrupted it by slamming his laptop shut.

“Okay, I’ve spent two weeks thinking about what to say,” he started, catching (Y/N)’s attention.  She lifted her eyes from her book and stared at Jughead, puzzled.  “But I don’t know.  I don’t know what to say!  How do I respond to the fact that your parents were murdered?”

“You don’t have to sa-”

“Yes I do!” Jughead interjected.  “Because we’re… friends, we’re friends.  And I’m supposed to say something to make you feel better.”  (Y/N) tilted her head sideways as she gazed at Jughead, trying to think of a reply.

“You still have a question,” she finally said, “don’t you?  And you didn’t want to say anything else because you didn’t want to tempt your own curiosity.”

“No,” Jughead shook his head, “no, I-”

“Just ask,” (Y/N) stopped him.  “Just ask me, Jug.”  He inhaled sharply, and examined her face.  There was no doubt, no hesitation; just determination with a hint of anger. Jughead sighed, giving into (Y/N)’s, and his own curiosity’s, demands.

“What’s your real name?”

Part four here

Suga Daddy: Part 8

Suga Daddy: 8

Word count: 8.3k

Genre/Warnings: angst, dirty talk, language 

Pairing: Yoongi x Reader

Summary: Yoongi tells you about his past but is terrified of how you’ll take it.

This came a little early than expected. Anyway, enjoy and thanks for reading.

Parts: {playlist} one | two | three | four | five | six | seven 

Everything felt like it was playing out and slow-motion and all you were doing was twirling the flowers in your hand. You were nauseated and your mind was racing with every possible scenario. You knew that Yoongi couldn’t have a squeaky clean record. Especially with his attitude and the way he talked to you sometimes. For some reason you still loved him, despite that.

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Just Remember

Alright, so, this is probably going to be my last Fic post in THIS blog, it will still be active, it will still post Voltron stuff, I just start posting the fics from my WRITER Blog, so everything is orginized and stuff :D

Anyways, I was having a shitty morning with myself so, I wanted to scream but I couldn’t bc I was in traffic and like, so many people around so I did the best thing: I wrote. 

Langst but also happy langst. Even Lance have these moments guys, they are valid and okay. 

Ps. Hope it’s not too hard or stressful to read? 

Disclaimer: Voltron dosen’t belong to me. 


Shiro’s disappointed glare.

Lance punches the bag.

Pidge’s annoyed roll of eyes.

Another punch followed by a kick.

Keith’s exasperated scoff.

Kick, punch, shout.

Hunk’s exhausted sigh.

Punch, kick, punch, tears.

Coran’s shake of head.

Tears, punch, shout.

Allura’s skeptical frown.

Screams.

Lance screams and shouts and curses. He lets it all out. He lets his words and shouts echo around as he falls to his knees in the middle of the training room. He hiccups as sobs shake his body. He doesn’t bother to wipe away his tears, he lets them fall to the ground and stain the mat below him.

He curses loudly and lividly for every part of him that makes him feel unworthy. He weakly punches the mat as he whimpers and his shoulders lose their strength.

Shiro’s disappointed glare turns into a concern one once he catches Lance’s weak whimpers as he cradles his own hand to his chest.

Frowning in worry, Shiro steps into the training room and takes a seat besides the brunet as Lance tries to hide his injured wrist.

“Lance, buddy, there’s no need to push yourself, I told you.” He reprimands gently, giving him a look when the brunet doesn’t allow him to get a better look of his wrist, “This training is new, you don’t need to be an expert the very same day you learn it.”

Lance sighs as he lets Shiro takes his wrist into his hands and the older teen inspects it carefully. and just hums dryly as an answer.

“Buddy, you’re already our sharpshooter, it’s okay to take your own pace as you learn to improve yourself.” Shiro says quietly after a few minutes in silence as he wraps Lance’s wrist in a white bandage, “You are getting used to the new form of your bayard, these things take time.”

“I know.” Lance answers softly, a small frown on his face, “But I feel like I’m letting you all down if I don’t learn to use it fast enough. What if we are in the battle field and because I still don’t know how to use or if I shot someone innocent or worse, one of you guys, by accident and -”

“Lance.” Shiro cuts off, not unkindly, “You’re our sharpshooter. The entire team and I have full faith in you.” He offers a proud smile at the brunet, “You would never miss a shot.”

Lance takes a deep breath as he let go of his abused lower lip. He sighs, wiping the thin line of blood coming from the corner of his mouth as he raises his head.

“It’s all in your mind.” Lance tells himself, placing a hand over his eyes to block out the light. “It’s all in your mind, it’s all in your mind. It’s okay. It’s valid. Just remember.”

The brunet takes a deep breath. “Just remember.”

He stays in silence for a little longer.

Pidge’s roll her eyes annoyed as Lance cheers in victory when the screen in the break room flashes the words of ‘Victory For Azul’ in big gold letters.

“Yeah, ok, you win this round, Mister.” Pidge says, shoving him by the arm, smirking when the brunet’s laughs, “I will win the next round, for sure.”

Lance chuckles as he raises his hand and ruffles Pidge’s wild bed hair. “We have been playing this game for like two hours, Pidge, aren’t you tired of me already?”

Pidge scoffs as if the mere question offended her. “Pick up your controller, Mr. Spanish; I’m kicking your ass.” She declares as she presses a few buttons and the screen shows the announcement of Round 4.

Pidge wins until Round 10.

Lance’s mouth twitches as his brain keeps filling him with the missing scenes with his team.

Inhale. Hold. Exhale.

He falls back on the mat and lays down, closing his eyes as he repeats his breathing exercise.

“You’re okay.” He breathes out softly, “You’re okay, you’re okay, you’re okay.”

Keith scoffs exasperated as he watches his boyfriend hog the entire blanket in their bed.

“Lance, no.” He whines, stomping his foot against the floor, “Stop hogging the blanket every time I go take a shower.”

“Nop.” Lance replies from the bottom of the mountain of blankets, “You’re the one who wants to train so late, bear the consequences, buddy.”

“Babe!” The black haired man shouts annoyed and Lance suppresses his snickers as Keith’s pouts.

“Nope.” He repeats gleefully before yelping in surprise when a body slams itself from above, successfully crushing him, “Keith!”

Keith laughs playfully as he lays above Lance comfortably on his stomach, meeting Lance’s bright blue eyes easily even in the darkness around them, “Hi there.”

Lance snorts before he smiles. “Hello, hello.” He answers softly, reaching towards his boyfriend and Keith quickly meets him halfway.

“You’re comfy.” Keith confesses quietly against his lips and Lance laughs.

“Oh, hush.” He says as he smiles and nuzzles his face against Keith lovingly.

Lance hums quietly under his breath as his breathing goes back to normal after a few minutes.

He taps the surface of the mat he’s lying in with the tip of his fingers, following the rhythm of the song he’s humming.

Hunk sighs exhausted as he takes in the sight of his best friend covered in food goo.

“Lance, buddy, what’cha doin’?” He asks, fighting back the grin that threatens to appear as the brunet blinks surprised.

“Uh…” He starts, voice trailing unsure, “The mice made me do it?”

Said group of mice squeak at the accusation before Hunk accepts his losing battle as he laughs.

“Let me guess?” Hunks say and Lance nods, waving his hand as permission, “You tried to make my goo cookies?”

A pause.

“No…?” Lance answers, smiling innocently as some goo falls from his hair and Hunk shakes his head.

“Dude, if you wanted some you could have just ask me.” He says, stepping into the kitchen and wiping some of the goo from his friend’s hair and then grabs a clean cloth from the counter.

Lance pouts as he accepts the cloth and wipes his face. “I didn’t want to bother you.” He confesses softly.

Hunk snort amusedly. “Buddy, baking, food and you will never be a bother for me.” He reassures, smiling big and bright at the sheepish brunet, “Now, come on! Let’s do some baking!”

“I heard baking!” Shiro’s shout echoes around them as the leader of Voltron slides into the kitchen with a bright smile, “I call dibs on Lance’s biscuits.”

“No, no, those are mine, Shiro!” Come Keith’s shout as the younger brother jumps on Shiro’s back to fight him.

Lance and Hunk start baking, ignoring the wrestling brothers on the floor.

The brunet takes his training gloves as he sighs calmly when the door of the training room opens and closes and steps makes their way towards him.

He doesn’t need to open his eyes to acknowledge the warm body lying beside him.

He takes Keith’s hand into his own in silence.

Coran shakes his head and Lance’s face fall.

“Hey, come on, now.” Coran says as soon as he notices the brunet’s sad eyes, “You are doing great, Lance! You got 9 out of 12 correct!” He praises, smiling big and proud at the brunet sitting in front of him.

Lance pouts. “Well yeah, but still, I’m still nowhere good. I can barely understand it! I will be a miracle if I’m ever able to speak it with you guys.”

Coran’s face softens at the words. “Oh, Lance, the mere fact you want to learn Altean is enough. Allura and I are so grateful that you are giving us this small time of normality that allows us to remember our roots.”

He leans forward to ruffle Lance’s head. “You’re doing great, mikró ílio.”

Lance blinks before he beams. “Little sun.” He translates softly and Coran smiles back just as brightly, pride clear in his eyes.

He doesn’t know how long they have been lying there, but at some point, Lance’s humming had stopped but Keith’s voice had filled in the silence, singing softly and quietly under his breath,

Lance allows himself to smile.

Allura’s skeptical frown turns into a confused one as Lance points at the corner of the screen.

“Okay, I understand your point, but wouldn’t it be easier to create a distraction and then just take the quintessence?” She asks and Lance taps his chin in deep thought.

“Well,” He starts, “It’s an option, but remember that the quintessence is something real valuable to the Galra, specially to Lotor now that Zarkon is out of commission. Their guards have been doubled since out last attack.”

Tapping twice into the screen, the video of their last mission appears. “See? The room is filled with druids plus some Galra Soldiers and the occasional Supervisor making rounds. A direct attack would only put them in higher alert even when some of us are sneaking in.”

“So sneaking in from the start is the best option.” Allura muses and Lance shrugs.

“It’s our best shot.” Lance declares, smiling when Allura nods her head at him and smiles.

“Well, you’re our sharpshooter, there’s no way we’re missing this.”

“Thank you, amor.” Lance says softly, turning his head to meet Keith’s face and his heart flutters when Keith’s blue eyes meet his own.

Keith stops his singing to smile gently at his boyfriend, “You okay?” He asks quietly, reaching out to brush Lance’s bangs away from his face and his eyes turn tender when the brunet nuzzles his face against his hand.

“Nah, my mind is still being a bitch.” Lance confesses, turning slightly to drop a small kiss against Keith’s palm, “But you being here kicks its ass, so I will be.”

“And I will be here.” Keith says, leaning forward to drop his own his against the brunet’s forehead.

“Thank you, amor.”

Bygones of the Sun | 02 (M)

Originally posted by hobismole

Genre: Angst/fluff/(future)smut || dance captain!hoseok, bad boy!au, uni!au

Pairing: Reader x Hoseok

Length: 5.0k

Summary: Jung Hoseok was once the sweetheart of the school, the dance captain whom every girl, including you, can’t help but fall head over heels for. But like the force of the ever-glowing sun, everything that rises must also set. A year of inactivity later and he’s now the school’s resident bad boy. You’re a firm believer of allowing the past be the past, and yet you can’t help but wonder where the risen sun has gone into hiding—because perhaps its shadows have out-shined its own radiance.

01 | 02  

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