i love she gave us the names

A beautiful thing. (Spencer x dontshootmespence)

AN: oh hi! So i love @dontshootmespence and there writing and i love the idea of spence on dates and just…this is the finished story for @dontshootmespence cause i love them okay bye enjoy. Also i used myself as spences BAU bff and yes my name is cheynne and yes people get it so wrong. But illaria is the name @dontshootmespence gave me to use so yes enjoy

“So..everyone…this is…my..well…dancing ace in the hole…she can help plus…shes real cute,” cheynne looked over the team smiling
“A dancing ace? Thats not how the saying goes…” Shrugging at spencer she walked to the door opening it
“Team…meet our newest ear on the inside…illaria…owner of used to be loved books and the dancer to our prayers…illaria…this is…my family…team..fam team” stepping out of the way spencers eyes landed on a shorter woman, medium length brown hair, a rather beautiful curvy figure, to say he was attracted to her was more then fact, the speeding up of his pulse and anxiety ridden feeling in his stomach told him that, it had been almost a year and a half since…maeve and he often found himself looking at woman but never able to move to speak to them…of course his classified best friend had tried to find him people who would stimulate his mind and other parts but none came through.

“Hoe many people in how many professions do you have on speed dial, miss thang” morgan laughed looking at cheynne, who in turn shrugged
“I have eyes all over the country…but illaria has been my friend since…i moved here when i was 17…” The woman behind her nodded as cheynne lead her into the meeting room, a shy look on her face as she looked over everyone, finally stopping on spencer, a small smile and nod to him had his heart picking up speed.

The case had the two classified best friends stuck on a stake out together, cheynne sitting across from spencer in the park, a well set up chess board in front of them.

“So what do you think of illaria? Shes pretty cool once shes out of her shell and not helping us find an unsub” spencers eyes moved from the board to his friend shrugging before looking at the board
“She seems nice, smart and able to help us. Her dress sense is nice and able to blend in with the victims from before. She is a well match for our unsubs taste.” Spencer moved a piece looking up at his friend. Eyebrow raised she sighed
“Not what i meant spence…i meant…okay so how long has it been since…maeve? Almost two years…and i know i keep…i keep trying to set you up, because you are my work husband and best friend and i…i want you to be happy…i want you to be happy and in love with someone who can keep up with the rambled genius mind of yours…because i love you spence….you are my best friend, and when maeve…died i saw you…i saw you in a place i never wanna see again…and i think and feel in my heart or hearts…that if you give illaria an honest chance…like more so then the other woman i tried and failed with…i think you will be…happy…again….as happy as one can in this field of work….” Her eyes moved to spencers as he looked at her. At one point he had thought to ask out his coworker…but one date and a make out session later they realized they were best as friends and work wife and husband, much they way garcia and morgan were, he often became her pillow on long plane rides to this case or that, her head on his ribs, his arm over her shoulder. It was comfortable. Spencer sighed looking at her
“Okay…one date and if it is…a fizzle then you stop trying to set me up…deal” her pinky extended over the table as his linked with it a bite to the thumb, spit to the ground and the promise was made.

Two weeks later spencer found himself outside of illaria’s apartment, his hands nervously gripping the steering wheel. Cheynne had helped him out picking a place they both would love. Or so she said. Finally after a moment of pepping himself up he got out sighing.

He knocked twice waiting the flowers cheynne had instructed him about in his hand, a moment later the door opened to show illaria in a beautiful dress and flats, it was much a retro style that flattered her figure perfectly, spencer smiled, holding out the flowers
“Um daisies, to represent the hopeful birth of a future relationship be it friend or romantic” illaria smiled nodding
“Thank you spencer…they are lovely…um so did cheynne tell you where we were going? She scares me when she just tells me to wait and see” spencer laughed nodding
“She gave me an address and i am as fearful as you…shall we brave this fear together?” With a nod she took his arm as he lead her to his car. The ride was a calm silence as each tried to find the right way to start a conversation

“So cheynne said you had an IQ of 187…and you graduated highschool at 12…at 12 i was trying to figure out which boy i would marry based on the posters on my bedroom wall, yet you and her were…wow…its just amazing…that anyone could be…that smart..” Spencer laughed to himself looking at her nodding
“Well i mean i..i was also deciding who i would marry just…more based on genetics…what a best chemical match would be…because pheromones play a huge part in our attraction to the sex we favor, take cheynne and me for instance our chemical make up is designed to create an offspring that would be smart and excel in both sciences and psychology. Where as you and i may have a child that excels in artistic genius, dance or writing” her laugh caused him to smile
“Now i see what she was saying. But you are right…about the genetic make up…i fear a spencer x cheynne super brain child….kid would either be full evil or so smart he destroys the world….” Spencer nodded as they pulled into the parking lot. A large blank warehouse staring at them
“This is why no one leta her pick places for team outings…” Getting out spencer opened the door for her as they walked up to the entrance shrugging they entered being met with arrows pointing the way.

Finally a door appeared no window or way to see inside. Slowly spencer opened it leading them in, the room was set with book shelves that housed what could be millions of well used and loved books, fairy lights around the room light the place to seem like a far off land of fairies and magic. The floor was set with grass and a stone walk way, it was breathtaking.

“Wow….books and…so much more…” Spencer nodded as they walked to the table set in the center of the room food set and ready.
“She really has a way when she wants two people to be together….its scary how she makes things happen” spencer nodded to her words.

The night was a flow of easy conversation illaria sitting at full attention as spencer rambled about facts of this and that, her asking questions about books and movies, music and TV shows. It was like he was speaking to maeve again…but different…it was the ease of how they talked that reminded him, her laugh and smile made his heart speed up and though he knew he could say exactly what his body was doing he felt it was more to just embrace it. Something cheynne had been telling him for months.

Soon the night ended as spencer walked illaria to her door, unsure of how he should end it, not wanting to end it at all
“This was amazing spencer…i…no ones ever wanted to listen to me ramble about books for as long as you let me, and no one has shared my love of obscure russian art before….so thank you.” Spencer didn’t know why but before he knew it his lips were on hers, his hand coming up to rest on her cheek as she gasped in surprise before responding to his movements. It felt like sparks or a slow roll of thunder as he pulled away.
“Sorry i don’t…um know why i…i’m sorry i should have asked first if i coul-” spencers nervous rambling was cut off by a quick kiss from illaria, smiling as she pulled away
“Its okay…um….so does this mean a date number two is happening….” Spencer smiled nodding
“Yes…um i’ll text you…um good night” with another quick peck he watched the door close as he smiled turning and looking around the spark still on his lips

This was a beginning of a beautiful…beautiful thing….

a comprehensive list of every harry potter character i want to know more about
  • hannah abbott - is she doing okay? how’s her and neville’s relationship going? do they have any kids? does she make like the best butterbeer ever? i want to know
  • bathsheda babbling - apparently she was the ancient runes teacher at hogwarts and truly i just want to know more about her because look at that fucking name
  • katie bell - how’s my girl katie doing? hopefully not too affected by that whole dark curse thing she had to deal with? also i just want to know more about her like how’d she get into quidditch what were her stats like when did her and oliver wood get married
  • phineas negillus black - truly it’s tragic that whenever i picture him in my mind i see phineas from phineas and ferb with black hair and a very large black wizarding cloak on but like besides that how was he as a headmaster? what was he like? does he take joy in being a little dick head? i truly want to know
  • susan bones - how is she after her aunt’s death? what’s she doing with her life? susan bones sounds like the type of girl who’d be really really good at braiding hair. is she really really good at braiding hair?
  • lavender brown - i hope she’s doing okay and that she’s learning to live with the scars greyback gave her and hopefully she’s not a werewolf and listen she just liked ron is that really such a crime jk rowling did her so dirty!!! also i want to know everything about her and parvati’s relationship “friendship” and all the crazy make-outs shenanigans they got into
  • charity burbage - how’d she get into teaching muggle studies? was she scared those last few moments of her life? was she a good teacher? why the hell did jk rowling never let us witness a muggle studies class
  • alecto & amycus carrow - damn tell me everything about these two what was their childhood how’d they get into the dark arts literally how far were they willing to go because like torturing children is just fucking evil
  • the cattermoles - did they actually grab their family and get out of britain?? i sure hope so
  • penelope clearwater - how’s she doing??? did she get like fucking awesome grades?? how’d she react when percy was being a Dick? important questions
  • dennis creevey - legit how many times did collin write to him about harry? i bet dennis was like “jesus fuck mate shut up”. is he doing okay? i sure hope so. i hope he got into photography too
  • fleur delacour - listen i just want to know MORE what kind of student was she??? how many friends did she have??? i want more elaboration on her relationship with her sister. i want a whole god damn book just about fleur’s life. god damn it
  • dedalus diggle - how did anyone let him become an auror with a name like that
  • the dumbledores - please, for the love of god, i’d die if jk rowling gave us a book on the dumbledores. think about all that information. wow.
  • arabella figg - how did a squib get in contact with dumbledore? how was her life growing up being a squib? what were all her cat’s names? did she go play bridge every night with her friends? these are questions i need answers to
  • seamus finnigan - “me mam” oh you sweet boy how i love you. when was the first time he and dean kissed and was it as magical as he thought?? i won’t rest until i am answered
  • mundungnus fletcher - so like did he become like he is because of his name or did he change his name to reflect the fact that he was an utter piece of shit
  • filius flitwick - how’d he get into charms!!! what were his favorite teaching methods!!! favorite students!!! literally anything!!!
  • florean fortescue - i want to know every single damn flavor of ice cream he had in his shop. also, did he ever reopen it??
  • astoria greengrass - how’d she and draco meet? what are her political views?? her family life??? what kind of mother was she to scorpius?? i bet she was a damn elegant one
  • rubeus hagrid - like i want DETAILS about his life at hogwarts. every damn one. and about his life afterwards. i want a tour of his cottage. transcripts of every date he went on with madame maxime or whatever. a list of every single pet he ever owned. i want stories about him going to romania and visiting charlie. i want EVERYTHING
  • angelina johnson - my BITCH how’s she doing???? how’s life after hogwarts for her?? is she kicking ass and taking names?? i sure hope so. is she playing quidditch? or maybe she’s like a wizarding lawyer or something like stone cold bitch!!!! love that girl. what kind of mother is she? when did she and george fall in love?? does she still meet up with alicia spinnet and katie bell every once in a while for tea and biscuits and a chat?
  • bellatrix lestrange - i honestly just want to know everything about her. how was she growing up? her relationship with her sisters? when did she like fall in love or infatuation or lust or whatever with voldemort??? is like the no nose thing a kink? when’d she lose her mind? important questions
  • frank and alice longbottom - how’d they meet? how’d they fall in love? how’d they get married? they deserved better
  • ernie macmillan - did he ever stop being such a little bitch?
  • minerva mcgonagall - LEGITIMATELY EVERYTHING I WANT TO KNOW EVERYTHING i want a 1000 page essay detailing her time at hogwarts
  • cormac mclaggen - did he ever stop being such a big dick?
  • the patil sisters - listen tell me about like hinduism and magic and indian culture and hindu mythology and magic and also just everything about these sisters and their sisterly bond and how they were both underestimated and taken for giggling girls even though they were smart as fuck i love them
  • kingsley shacklebolt - okay i wanna hear how awesome he was at school and about how everyone loved him and i wanna hear about his adventures in the ministry and him talking to the muggle prime minister and basically how fucking awesome he was
  • dean thomas - his love for soccer!!!! tell me all about it!!!! his love for seamus!!!!! tell me all about it!!!!
  • ted tonks - how did he and andromeda fall in love??? did he try to convince her he was worth it???? was he Smooth As Fuck??? important questions
  • the weasleys - like i KNOW we know a ton about them but i just want MORE. i want more charlie and bill and bill and ginny’s relationship and all the siblings hanging out and i just want MORE of the dynamic

The key to love, my father told me, was to never love someone more than they love you. So when, after dating for five months, Christopher Moore was the first to say “I Love You”, I thought I had hit the “Love Jackpot”. I say this because, prior to him saying it at that very moment, I had never given thought to the possibility that I could love him in return. Standing in front of my apartment building, nervous and excited, facing him and his smile, I questioned whether love was the word to describe what I was feeling. High school love, after all, is quite trivial with it’s ins and outs. Nevertheless after weighing the theoretical pros and cons of love, I decided that I was in love, at least in some respects. He was handsome, smart, sweet, and I enjoyed his company. This is what I believed love boiled down to; four factors. Honesty, clearly, was something I overlooked. About a year and 7 months into our blissful love affair, after graduation had passed and we had spent the summer taking all the cliché couple pictures, Chris decided that he “just couldn’t go on lying to me anymore. “Jenine” he told me “this guilt is eating me alive!”. I imagine there wasn’t much of him left, as it had been “eating away at him” for 6 months. This is when I learned that there is no “key” to love; no guide, no tips, no 101 course, because love is lived and learned; never taught. Try as you may, to forgo the pain of love, you’ll find joy in knowing that it’s survive-able and moreover, sometimes the good outweighs the bad. No, Chris wasn’t the love of my life, but he gave life to my ability to love.

“Never” my father said “let love override your faculty of reason.” Easier said, than done. My next love was Jeremy Bishop. Before you ask, of course there were others between Chris and Jeremy. But this is a story about love; not “almost loves”,“semi loves”, and “could’ve beens”. Jeremy’s love was the worst kind of love. The kind that doesn’t have a reason to exist but somehow it does and you’re glad. Its sole purpose is to debilitate your mind, forcing you to follow only your emotions. While Jeremy was dreamy, I learned that the man of your dreams can sometimes be the root of your nightmares.

I met Jeremy my junior year at _________ University. It was a Sunday and I had been studying in the library for an anthropology midterm and decided that I would take a break. Putting my highlighter down & flexing my hand I stood up & headed towards the bathroom. As I walked through the stacks, passing my hand across the rows of books I’d never read, my friend Denise spotted me and waved me over. Walking swiftly I made my way to the table she was stationed it & gathered that she had been studying all day as all. Splayed papers, open textbooks, two highlighters, & her laptop with several window open screamed “cram session” to me. After having sat & talked for some time about school & it’s “scammagry”, I noticed that someone had taken a seat at the end of the table. You know those typical movies where two people look up at the same time & smile coyly at one another? Well that’s what happened with us…….minus the smiling. When Jeremy & I caught eyes it was more of an inquisitive stare down. I relented because who really stares at a stranger for lengths at a time? Apparently Jeremy does because every time I looked up he was looking at me or perhaps through me. Whatever the case was I asked Denise if she could “Excuse me for one second?” as I got up from my seat and sauntered over to Jeremy, running my fingernails along the wooden table that both separated and joined us.

He was brown skinned but it was a rich brown that I often found myself lost in. He had brown hair that was cut low to avoid maintenance & also to spite his mother who so much loved it longer. His eyes were almost black they were so dark, yet you never asked someone to hit the lights when staring into them. He had a slight dimple on the right side of face that only presented itself in the presence of his mother, its creator.

“I know you or something?” I said, to which he looked up & responded “No you don’t. But since you’re already here, I’m Jeremy. Nice to meet you….” he said moving his hand in that circular waiting motion “this is usually the part where you tell me your name”. He was sarcastic & forthcoming and I liked it. “This is usually the part when I’d say Jenine. My name is Jenine. Though I’m not sure it’s nice to meet you.” “Well Jenine, do you have HIST 256 on Mondays & Thursdays? I think that’s where I’ve seen you before.” “Well Jeremy, had I known you were a stalker I would’ve stayed at the other end of the table” “A stalker Jenine? Really? I think you’re mistaking my keen eye for details.” “I stand corrected then. I just had no idea I was noticeable to your "keen eye”, I said, making air quotes. He leaned in & said, “Maybe Jenine, just maybe there’s a lot of things you don’t know. I’d be happy to fill you in though. If you were ever free.” “Correct me if I’m wrong, but it seems to me, Jeremy, that you’re asking me out.” “It seems that way, because it is that way. But enough with this, would you be interested in going out?” “I’ll contemplate it.”

A week later Jeremy picked me up in his beat up silver 2010 Toyota Corolla. Got out & offered to close the door for me not because he was a gentleman but because I literally couldn’t close it myself. He told me he wanted to show me his favorite place in all of Brooklyn. We drove for about 15 mins and parked in DUMBO; my favorite place. As we walked to the pier he barraged me with every menial question from favorite color to top five movies. I stopped his questioning because I realized I knew nothing about him. “What about you?” I said. “Tell me something I don’t know about you.” “I’m a Taurus. Now back to you.” “Your sign. You gave me the third degree and in return you tell me your astrological sign??” “I’m really not that interesting. I kind of just go with the flow nothing special really.” “I could say the same about myself but you don’t see me spewing monotonous facts about myself” “That’s just it though. You’re very interesting. I see you twice a week & you never look the same to me. Always a different hairstyle, new lipstick, different outfit. You keep me guessing & well…I like that.” “Different outfit…Did you expect me to have the same clothes on like a cartoon character?”

Jeremy took my clothes off the way he took down my walls; slowly & intently. I never felt exposed or vulnerable. It was easy with him & who doesn’t like easy? The first time we had sex he kissed every scar and stretch mark on my body while he whispered beautiful and for the first time I believed it. This is when I knew I loved him; this is when I knew he loved me. We fell into a routine & inevitably, that’s how we fell apart. We saw each other four-five times a week in between work, school & our respective friends. I’d meet him after work or he’d meet me after class, we’d get some food or I’d cook, we’d talk, then go back to his dorm room or my house & somewhere in between there we’d fuck once or twice & that would be that. Talk, Eat, Fuck, Repeat. This, I should inform you, was the foundation for our dismantling. Jeremy grew tired of our monotony, I suppose, & because of that he started talking to a female customer who had “just so happened” to frequent his job. In talking they “just so happened” to find they had “so much in common” & somehow Jeremy’s dick “just so happened” to be in her mouth when I walked into his dorm room to get the spare phone charger I left there just in case. “Oh Mahh Gahhhh” is what Celeste said with his dick slighty tucked to the left side of her mouth because it wouldn’t have been polite to pull it out all together; though I’m sure there was no God she could ever call her own. Startled yet surprisingly indifferent I found my charger in the first drawer of his night stand now decoratively arrayed with ripped condom wrappers and I closed the door behind me.

Walking out of the apartment I didn’t feel anything but when I reached the stairs it hit me and when Jeremy came running out of his room, pulling his boxers up I looked up at him from the top stair I was sitting on & hit him right in the groin. “Shit! Ahh! Damn, J! Come on!” he winced . “Come on?? Excuse me?!? You’re such a fucking dickhead. Like what the fuck?” “I know. I know. I’m sorry babe. You gotta believe me! I swear it’ll never happen again.” & that’s what I wanted to believe after all; that this was just a bump along our road; that we could get through this because we could get through anything. So when Jeremy crouched down in front of me, put his hand under my chin, looked me right in the eye and told me he was “so sorry”, that he “really loved me”, that he was “mad stupid for doing that” I believed him & gave us another chance because I wasn’t ready to admit failure.

Celeste Soto was the average full figured broad who just “couldn’t help” falling for other women’s boyfriends, husbands, fiancés, you name it. Walking back into his room, I found her putting her left shoe on with one hand on his desk for balance. “You gotta believe mama” she said “I didn’t know he even had a girl. You feel me? I wouldn’t have done anything with him. Thas crazy disrespectful. My bad.” as she adjusted her bra strap and pulled her hair into a messy bun. Turning slighty towards Jeremy, I looked at him as if to say “really?!? THIS was the best you could do??” and he lowered his head, and stared at this one spot on the carpet that he could never get out. Not only had Jeremy cheated but he chose the lowest of women to do it with. “First of all, I’m not one of your friends so I don’t know why you’re calling me "mama” & no I don’t “feel” you nor do I intend to. Get your shit and get out!“ When she was gone I searched the apartment for remnants of her presence, prior to that days visit. An earring, a hair tie, maybe a lip balm. I found nothing or maybe I wasn’t really looking.

For eight months straight Jeremy was on his BEST behavior. He’d let me know where he was at all times as to ensure that he wasn’t out cheating; send pictures as proof on some occasions. I have to admit, though I was secure in his whereabouts, I was also sure that this was not how healthy relationships works. Nevertheless I looked forward to each notification because afterall "once a cheater……"you know the rest. One night I went over to his place to cook dinner, partially to ensure he wouldn’t be feeding Celeste or any other girl his penis but also because this is what I missed most about us. I had become so preoccupied with deciding whether or not I could trust him that I wasn’t concerned with trying to make us seem normal. After dinner we were in his bed tearing at each other’s clothes & after switching positions five times he looked down at me & said "I can’t do this”. Looking back at him I said “it’s cool I wasn’t feeling it either honestly”. “Not this” he said falling to my side, facing the ceiling “I mean like this….us”. Somehow though I knew that was what he had meant. This ball of something akin to both fear & anger welled up in my throat & grew until finally all I could say was “oh”. One tear fell from my eye & couldn’t allow myself to shed another. “This whole time” he said getting up from the bed “I wasn’t with you because I wanted to be. I was with you because I didn’t want to let you down.” He was pacing back & front at the foot of the bed, lifting his hands to his head then retracting them, looking over at me occasionally for assurance of my understanding. So he continued "I couldn’t let your last image of me be somebody who betrayed you. I had to prove you wrong & that’s selfish. I’m sorry. I don’t want to be in a relationship I’m not fully committed to. It isn’t fair to either of us J & you can hate me but I’d rather you hate me for being honest.” “Is this a joke? Please tell me you’re kidding right now” I said, half laughing half crying. “Let me get this straight” I said, sitting upright in his bed, pulling my shirt over my head “You cheated…..You lied…..YOU fucked up….You begged for another chance!…and my stupid ass gave you one. I’m just so lost right now.” This is when I realized I never should have sat on those steps & cried. I should’ve ran out of that building like it was on fire because guys like him will always burn you.

Some nights I could still hear his footsteps pacing the floor & I’d wonder when in the hell it would be over. When I’d stop crying; when I’d realize I was better off without him. But there’s this moment & I know it sounds cliche but you just wake up & you feel different you feel like you can begin again. One morning I woke up and knew Jeremy would never have a hold on me the way he did before, but more importantly I didn’t want him to.

The thing about baggage is that you never realize how much of it you carry around. In fact you assume that more often than not you don’t carry any at all because you’re “over it” or you’ve “moved on”. You’ll find yourself compromising because you just want someone to call at night; that wants only you. “Trust me.” my mother said “There will be others and don’t think that you have to look for them or that you have to settle.” My mother had a way with words. I’m not sure if that’s necessarily a good thing but the fact remains that when she said those words to me I wished she had kept her opinion to herself. I would never settle…..or at least I didn’t think I would.

I knew I didn’t love Benjamin the first time he came inside me & I wished I had never come to his apartment, let alone into his room splayed with dirty laundry that he was “gonna get to”. More importantly I knew I couldn’t love Benjamin, not the way I wanted to at least, when he told me I’m just like my mother. This sounds stupid I know, but let me explain.

After a week of working overtime, my best friend Selene dragged me out of my apartment for a night of bar hopping. Upon walking into our third stop, Benjamin grabbed my hand & told me I was pretty. That was it. There was no drawn out conversation, no playing hard to get, it was very low stakes. I gave him my number & before I got to the next bar he had called & asked when he could see me again. “Tomorrow” I said.

The next evening Benjamin showed up at my apartment with no plan other than to show up. We decided to see a movie.

The movie we saw doesn’t matter. Neither does the fact that we went to the movies. What matters is that after we left the movies, Benjamin grabbed both my hands & kissed me. When he stopped & I looked up at him he said “You taste like stale popcorn”. I thought “what the fuck?” & then he reminded me that we shared a popcorn. Our entirely relationship was like this; constant reminders of things I should have been aware of.

Ben was different from Jeremy because he never lied to me. That doesn’t necessarily mean that’s a good thing though. His honesty was one that I had to grow accustomed to. We had been dating for about two months, when I called him asking if he wanted to get dinner later & he simply replied “no”. No explanation, no rain check, no apology; he just hung up. Later he’d text me & say that we should get breakfast instead the next day because he liked being the first person I talked to in the morning. He never hid anything from me. Girls would text him, telling him how much they “missed him” how much “fun” they used to have & he’d show me his phone while laughing & ask what I thought he should say in his reply. It was almost inconceivable, how much he included me in his decisions when it came to other women. Co-workers would invite him out to dinner & drinks after work, over to their apartments, concerts & he would ask me, not if he could go (because he was going to do what he wanted regardless) or if I wanted to come with, but how I’d feel if he went it with them. We’d be waiting for our heart rates to drop back to normal after sex; our skin still dewy and tingling and he’d say “the last time was better” or “you faked it, but that’s cool” as he got up and ambled to the bathroom & I’d wonder if he had to be so honest with me all the time.

I woke up one day to him sitting at my kitchen table in just some sweatpants, signing a card. Next to him there was a huge bouquet of sunflowers. I walked over to him, fixing my bed hair into a bed bun & when I sat down he was startled. “I didn’t think you’d be up this early” he said & I looked over at the clock on microwave. “It’s after 11……does that even count as early?” I said. He looked up at me, then at the clock, then back at me & shrugged “I guess not”. I asked “Who’s the card for?” & as he sealed it, he handed to me & said “Happy Anniversary Sweetness” with no inflection. My face dropped to the floor, along with the card. “An anniversary?” I thought “have we really been dating a year? Maybe it’s like a six month anniversary? But that’s not even an anniversary!” After a few mental “Fuck!!”’s, I pulled myself together, awkwardly smiled as I picked up the card & opened it. It had been a year since I moved into my own place. In the card he wrote about how happy he was for me; that he knew how big of a deal it was for me to live on my own & he wanted me to know that it was just as important to him. I cried out of relief. He thought I was overwhelmed by his thoughtfulness, primarily because as I closed the card, hugged him, wiped my tears and sniffled into his neck, I whispered “Thank you. This means a lot.”. One year of independence; something I should have been aware of.

The first time he told me he loved me, I opened my mouth to respond & he placed his index finger on my parted lips. “Stop” he said. “Not everything I say deserves or should be met with a response Jenine. I love you. That’s it.” I of course flew into defense. “So I can’t say it back? I can’t love you in return? What kind of bullshit is that Ben? You can’t just say something like that & expect me not to say anything back.” “I never said you can’t say anything back. But think about it baby, I said I love you & your first instinct was to respond. You didn’t even really take the moment in. That’s what I’m saying. I don’t want you to love me back because I love you. I want you to love me because you actually love me.” I felt little, like a child, like I had been put in my place, handled, dealt with, but I wouldn’t let him know. “You’re such an asshole sometimes” I said “but that Benjamin, for your information, is why I love you. Because you’re only an asshole sometimes”.

There are two important things I remember from when I broke up with Ben:

1. It was raining.
2. He told me I should’ve ended us a long time ago.

I came back to the apartment from the gym. As I shook my umbrella walking through the door, Ben sauntered by in his usual attire, house sweats and no shirt, saying “You must love mopping.” in a condescending tone. I happily returned the tone saying “Definitely. I just love it! Can’t get enough.” as I rolled my eyes and the umbrella up, fastening it shut. I walked over to the kitchen & checked the fridge. All that was left was this chicken Parmesan “thing” I had attempted to make three days earlier & it looked like a big pile of mush at that point. I chucked it & decided that take out sounded good. I had a taste for some pad thai so the choice was easy. Picking up my phone & dialing the number I thought it might be a good idea to ask Ben what he wanted but I figured he’d eat whatever I ordered him. So I made the call, ordered Chicken Pad Thai and another peanut sauce dish with shrimp, and hung up. As soon as my phone had ended the call, Benjamin started an argument. “Why would you order food without asking me what I wanted?” he asked me walking out of the bedroom and I replied “I ordered food for us both. No need to say thank you”. He walked towards the window to look out but really it was all dramatics because our window looks directly at the alley behind our building that holds nothing but two dumpsters and a few forgotten cats. “Why would I say thank you to you for doing something I never asked you to do?” he said with his back turned to me “Sometimes” he scoffed, almost laughing, as he looked at the rain collect in the window sill. “Sometimes I don’t get you. Like after all this time you still do shit that irritates me and I wonder why the fuck I still want to lay next to you at night or wake up with you in the morning.” I was sitting on the sofa, absentmindedly playing with the tag on this pillow I bought two years before when he & I had just started dating. He told me the pattern on it reminded him of us; that the lines never intersected. They just changed direction. “Nobody is holding you here Ben. You can leave anytime you’d like.” I said as I picked up the remote & turned on the television.

Thirty-five minutes later I was annoyed that the food hadn’t arrived but also because Ben never left the window. He just stayed there staring at the rain while it sheeted down the window screen and when thunder roared he’d just sigh. “What could be taking this food so long? The place isn’t even that far.” I complained. “It’s the rain Jenine. Everything slows when it rains. People, cars, buses, trains, bikes, they all slow.” He paused “You also might want to factor in the idea that a bunch of people order take out on a night like this.” I answered back “I knew that!……why are you always telling me things as if I don’t know them? As if I’m not aware? It’s just annoying. You’re annoying.” Ben walked away from the window & towards the kitchen counter. He planted his two hands palm down on the counter, hoisted himself up to sit on it, looked at me & said “Maybe it’s not me that annoys you Jenine. Maybe you can’t admit that I’m ever fucking right! I can’t ever make a point without you saying “I knew that!”. If you knew it Jenine…..then why would you say half the shit you say or do half the shit you do.“ I paused the lifetime movie I had been somehow become invested in and pressed a metaphorical "play” on the scene that was unfolding in our living room. “I don’t know Ben. Maybe you’re right” I replied as I sat up, crossed my legs and interlaced my fingers over my knee. “Maybe I can’t handle the fact that you make valid points. Or perhaps it’s the fact that you can’t ever let me be wrong without making me look like a complete ass. You’re always so philosophical. "Oh thee "all knowing Ben!” Ohh he who knows more than anyone!“ I mocked. "It’s insulting. For someone who is just so wise you damn sure don’t know how to do your own fucking laundry, or wash a dish, or aim your penis directly into the bowl when you pee. Stop with the bullshit. We both have our faults.” My phone rang. The food was downstairs.

I threw on my worn out flip flops and shuffled down the 3 flights of stairs. Walking back into the apartment with food in hand, I saw that Ben had returned to the window. He walked over to the kitchen counter where I was standing, taking the food out of the brown paper bag & said “You said your ordered me food.” “I just ordered two things off the menu. I figured we’d just share.” I reasoned. “Right I get that but I don’t like peanuts. You know that. Don’t you? I’ve told you this. I’m sure I have as we’ve been together give or take I don’t know 2 & half years!” “Dammit! I whispered to myself. "I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking & I was hungry & I’m…..sorry. I’m just sorry.” “It’s fine” he said. “I should’ve just picked something up on the way home. It isn’t the first time you’ve done something like this. You’re like your mother in that way.” “Like my mother? All of this over some take out? Listen, good luck with dinner.” I said as I grabbed a plastic fork at the bottom of the bag & headed back to the sofa. “Yeah, like your mother.” he continued, following me. “You’re always complaining that she never listens to you; that you have to remind her of things you’ve already told her. Yet, here you are never listening to me. It’s not even about the apology. It’s that I just don’t think you’re really sorry at all.” he retorted. “Fair enough.” I said, putting my food down on the coffee table. “You wanna know what I’m really sorry about Ben? Huh? Fine. I’m sorry I moved in with you. I’m sorry I’ve been in this relationship for this long because we’ll never be good enough for one another. You know that right? We’re always going to be like this Ben.” I said, pointing at the pace between with both hands. “It’s never going to be enough that we love each other. There’s gotta be more to love than whatever the fuck we’re doing. I just don’t think this is healthy. I don’t think we’re growing here. Do you?”. “Now that J…that’s the most honest thing you’ve said to me. You’re always saying what you think I want to hear and that’s my problem with you. You never say what the hell you want because you think too much about it. We are growing, it’s just apart from one another.” He sighed, finally saying “Look, I’m tired.” as he walked exhaustedly back towards the bedroom, on an empty stomach & closed the door behind him. I couldn’t figure out if he meant he was tired of us, of the arguing, of never really getting back to how we were or if he was honestly tired.

I slept on the sofa & I use the term “slept” very lightly. What I really did was stare at the ceiling, trying to figure out if this was really it for Ben & I. If that was our last real conversation; if that even counted as a conversation. I planned out what I’d say in the morning after we’d both had time to think & reflect. I’d tell him I was sorry about going off & that it’s not that I don’t want to try to make it work but that I don’t even think trying is worth an actual try. I thought about it & felt like the whole relationship was a perpetual “try”. We’d just kept getting up, dusting each other off, & holding hands until we’d fall again thinking it didn’t matter because we’d fallen together. How many times do you have to fall before you realize that perhaps it isn’t the ground that’s tripping you up? That it might just be you. Do you have to scrape your knees a few times or fall flat on your face? How do you know when you’ve had enough?

I laid there falling in & out of sleep. I had this weird dream that I was baking a cake. I kept checking on it. Ben was there but he didn’t really say much. Finally I took it out of the oven & it was burnt around the edges. He shuffled over to the stovetop & looked at the cake with a somber face. “I told you it was done 10 minutes ago. You should’ve taken it out.” he said & I just stared at him blankly because he was right. I turned the pan over and the cake popped out. I let it cool, frosted it and cut a piece. Jeremy hunched over the counter top and watched me put the cake on a plate with confusion. “You’re just going to eat a burnt cake?” he questioned me. I had just taken my first bite and was going in for a second when I looked up at him and said “It still tastes good so what’s the difference?”. “The difference, Jenine, is that you know the whole cake doesn’t taste good. Only certain parts do. Why don’t you just throw it out and make another one?” he said walking over to the cake, lifting the plate up at different points and angles to get a good look at it. It was as though he was wondering how the frosting did anything but make the cake look even sadder. I licked the last bit of frosting off my fork and said “Because, burnt or not burnt, I still love cake.”

I woke up to a sliver of sunlight shining through the living room across the floor & stopping right at the front door. I sat up & checked the time. It was 7:06. I decided I’d go to the bedroom and get some real rest. I stood up & stumbled towards the bedroom. As soon as I reached the door, Ben was coming out of the room. He was dressed & had 2 bags with him not including the backpack he’d never leave the house without. All of the things I had planned on saying were forgotten. I could barely see straight, let alone gather the words I wanted to say. He looked at me then said “Sorry. Can I just get by?”. “Sure!” I blurted out as I moved to the left, almost jumping. He walked towards the front door & I asked “Umm can at least ask where you’re going?”. He stopped moving and turned, telling me “I thought about what you said J. About us not being enough for one another. I guess I just always thought it would work itself out. But I see what you mean. I don’t know the exact moment when you came to that conclusion, or maybe you decided it, but you should’ve ended us then instead of now. So I’m leaving. I guess I’ll pick up the rest of my stuff over the next couple of weeks.”. That’s it. He was gone. Whatever he had left, the “stuff” he mentioned, was never picked up. They were minuscule items really; a toothbrush, some body wash, a value pack of razors. Things that made you think of him, even though they were all replaceable. It didn’t take long for me to realize that much like the burnt cake, I still loved Ben.

To be continued or whatever…….

Don’t Deserve Me - Bryce Walker

Bryce Walker x reader

Request: “can you do one where the reader was dating [Bryce] and found out what he did and is horrified that she even dated him and apologizes to Jessica, Hannah’s parents, Hannah at her grave after dumping him in front of the entire school?”


Originally posted by irisgibbins

I woke up to sound of my phone ringing on my bed side table. I groan and grab it sitting up.

“Hello?” I said hoarsely.

“Heyyy sexy, wake your fine ass up!” Bryce screamed in my ear. It was obvious he was with his friends at 7 in the morning. I rolled my eyes, he always act different when he’s with them.

“First stop yelling, and why did you wake me up, I don’t have to be to school till 9:30 babe”

I get up since I’m already wide awake and click on my TV.

“Because I’m going to pick you up so we can come to my place first”

Really sex before school Bryce? Leave it to him to have dumb ideas

“No way babe, and plus I already said Tony can drive me.”

“Tony?” I heard his friends laughing in the background, “why is Tony giving you a ride home, you want to fuck him instead?”

Again I heard his friends laughing and I wanted to hang up the phone and call back when he’s by himself. 

“You sound stupid babe, Tony is gay.”

There was a silence followed by an “Oh.”

“Yeah, oh. But I’ll call you later cause I need to start getting ready since I’m already up.”

“Okay, text me when you get into that creeps car.”

Again I rolled my eyes cause now he’s just being an ass.

“Good-bye by Bryce, see you by your locker”

“Okay sex-”

I hang up and start making up my bed. When I heard the news talking about Hannah on the TV I froze. I turned it up and glued my eyes to the picture of the beautiful girl on the screen. Even after weeks, I still find myself crying. Me and Clay were so close to her. Hell, me and Jeff were the ones to practically throw them together. I didn’t even know she was down that path and I hated myself for it. What kind of friend doesn’t see when another needs help?

I wiped my face, not even realizing I was crying and started getting dressed. I went downstairs and made a quick bowl of cereal while I waited for Tony.

As I scrolled through my news feed seeing things like ‘Hannah Never Forgotten’ and “Always Remembered’ I laughed cause none of them even gave her the time of day. I then got a text from Tony saying he’s outside. I grab my bag and jog down the steps to his bright mustang. I open his door and is welcome by his smile.

“Hey T” I smile

“Hey y/n/n”

He drives off as we start small talking about stuff like his boyfriend and this crazy project Ms.Kirchen is having us doing. In the middle of our conversation, my phone starts blowing up with texts from Bryce. Tony’s face changed, but then again it always changes when I bring up anything about Bryce.

“Okay Tony, stop holding your tongue.”

“I don’t know what your talking about” 

“Your a terrible liar, I know you don’t like him. A lot of people don’t, but they don’t know the real him.”


“I mean come on he’s not that bad…”


“I mean sure he can be an ass sometimes but who isn’t…”


Everyone’s an ass, that’s what led Hannah t-”


I stopped rambling to catch my breath and hold my anger. The anger isn’t even towards Tony not liking Bryce. It’s to everything.

“I have to show you something” he whispers. 

“Show me what”

He doesn’t say anything, he just pulls the car over and goes through his car compartment. 

“Tony show me what?”

Again, total silence as he picks up some tape labeled ‘12′ and put it into his tape player. 

“Tony your worr-” my ears got the best of my mouth as I heard a voice I thought I’d never hear in my life. More importantly who the person was talking about.

It was Hannah….

Talking about Bryce.


I storm into school, my faced painted in tears not even caring that people are staring at me. I need to find Bryce. Now. I push people out my way and look down every hall until I find him by Justin’s locker with his little crew. I storm to his side, anger and disgust in my eyes. He looks at me and smile, obviously not understanding how much I hate him right now.

“Hey baby, what’s up, little Tony touched you?”

His friends started dying, but Zach sensed something else.

“Bro I don’t think sh-”

“How could you!” I screamed.

Now I got people’s attention, including Bryce’s.

“Babe w-what are you talking ab-”

“Don’t call me that you prick!”

“Calm down and let’s go somewhere else to talk about thi-” he tried to grab my arm when he noticed people gathering around looking at the scene.

“Don’t fucking touch me you..you RAPIST!”

People started whispering and Bryce’s faced got red.

“Are you okay? what is wrong with you rela-”

“Don’t tell me to relax! You raped Hannah Baker!” I pushed him with every word I said, tears and anger coming out of me.

“Your acting crazy!”

I kept pushing him into his locker screaming curse words and scratching at him. People recording and being dumbfounded. 

“Your fucking disgusting!” I screamed “I fucking hate you” I kicked at him “fucking RAPIST!”

I kept hitting him as he shielded himself. I kept screaming, yelling, and kicking until I felt a pair of hands pulling me off.


I kept screaming until I was pulled around the corner. I heard teachers yelling “go to class” and “break it up”. I felt like I couldn’t breathe. I felt betrayed and disgusted like I needed 1,000 showers. Jessica. Hannah. Bryce. Fucking Bryce. He raped them, both of them. Tony stopped pulling me and started talking to me, but I couldn’t hear him. It’s like his voice was blurred out as I saw Jessica down the hall looking at me. I apologized and ran from Tony towards Jessica and started rambling and crying.

“I’m so sorry! I’m so so sorry! I swear I didn’t know, I didn’t! I would have never even dated hi-”

She cut me off with a tight hug “It’s okay y/n. I didn’t know either.”

We both were crying on each other shoulders and hugging. I needed this hug. I felt so used, so disgusted with him and with myself for even being with him. I heard he was not a person to date but I didn’t listen. I suddenly needed to do something important.



“Can you take me somewhere?”


She didn’t have a headstone yet. Just a piece of paper with her name written perfectly on it. Jessica stood behind me as a knelled beside her grave. My tears fell endlessly as I look down at her, realizing that Bryce, my boy- ex boyfriend was one of the causes of her death. He broke her. I then broke down. 

“I-I’m s-so sorry Hannah” I cry.

“I’m so sorry this happened to you, you will not die for nothing.”

With that I took a necklace out my wallet. It was the other half of the friendship necklaces she gave us. It was on my porch the night she died and I didn’t find it till the day after. I let her down. I let her down by not knowing. But not anymore. I set her necklace down on her grave as I held on to mine.

“I love you Hannah” I whispered.

I got up and brushed the dirt off my pants still looking at her name. 

“Where do you wanna go now?” Jessica asked nicely. I breathed in and turned around towards her. I know exactly where I wanna go.

“The police.”

The One Who Holds Your Heart » Prince Adam

Request: Can u do a pre-cursed imagine of the reader and prince Adam? I don’t really have a plot I just love pre-cursed Adam:)))

Pairing: Prince Adam x Reader

Fandom: Disney + Beauty and the Beast

Words: 1770

Summary: Adam is in love with you despite you being a maid.

A/N: Okay, so I really want to write a part two to this story and I will! [Name] won’t remember Adam and we’ll go on from there. Anyways, I hope you guys like this!

Part Two: The One Who Breaks The Curse

Keep reading

I always used to roll my eyes at people stanning villains and falling in love with them and saying “they’re just misunderstood! they just need love!”

but then guillermo del toro gave me Lucille Sharpe from Crimson Peak, whose name means light but who was locked away in darkness for so long that she was twisted into a monster

who suffered horrendous abuse as a child and as a teenager, caged at home and then in an institution where she was further neglected and assaulted

who clung obsessively to the only source of love she ever knew, her one comfort, which she ended up hurting, confining and killing in her selfish, yet understandable, need to keep it close

who is constantly stitched into rigid and painful clothing

who could not escape her demons, even in death

whom jessica chastain described as being like an abused animal that desperately wants to be touched and loved, but which will bite the instant it is touched

who has committed horrendous, unforgivable crimes, but who is still, at her core, an abused child

who might have been good, once, but who underwent a terrible metamorphosis and hatched out of her cocoon as a carnivorous black moth instead of a butterfly

who will, for eternity, remain that monster, because there is no undoing such a transformation fed by pain, misery and mistreatment

and I went


anyway good job on the sympathetic villain guillermo she wrecks me every time and I just want to hold her and love her and write meta and 1000 crappy redemption fics for her I hope you’re happy

Familial Ties

Request: “So, it’s not a request you don’t have to write it. It’s just an idea I had. I’m gonna write it in 2 messages because it wont fit in one. Imagine you have a 5 year old daughter with Kylo but the Resistance doesnt know it and one day they kidnap you with your daughter, thinking you may have information of the First Order. And then, Leia is there and tries to make your daughter feel comfortable, because you know she’s just a baby in the middle of a war, so she approaches her and… she asks her “what’s your name?” and your daughter says “Padme” and Leia thinks it’s strange, and Padme says “It was my daddy’s grandma name” so Leia is like whaaaat? Who’s your dad? So you come close and with a smirk in your face say to Padme “Honey, tell the lady who your daddy is” and Padme says “My daddy is Kylo Ren! Dah!” Imagine Leia’s face, pure SHOCK.”

Pairing: Kylo Ren x Reader

Word Count: 1611

Warnings: none


The moment her small hand gripped your finger was the moment you broke your promise to Kylo. You had told him that no matter what, you would always love him more than anything else in the Galaxy. But as you stared into your daughter’s eyes for the first time, you knew she had to come first. You looked up at Kylo, an air of understanding sweeping his features, silently taking the same vow to always put your little girl first.

“What’s her name?” He asked quietly, his massive hands taking her from your arms, and cradling her with a weary, yet intensely heartfelt smile.

You pondered for a minute. You had spoken about names before, but had never settled on anything. But as soon as you saw her for the first time, when you peered into the depths of her new soul, you knew her name.

“Padmé.” You smiled, and this caused Kylo to let out a short chuckle, tears welling in his eyes.

“I promise you,” he whispered, decreeing himself to his tiny daughter. “I will protect you, no matter what, Padmé.” He then turned to you, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “And don’t think I’ve forgotten about you, my beautiful.”

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

What did ted think about the fan mail he received or when girls would turn up to trials to see him?

He loved the attention during his trial, he was the superstar of his own show. He waved or winked to the girls. He received a lot of letters but answered to people he didn’t know only from time to time (which gave us this iconic letter ! ). He received all kind of letters though, from people with a mothering instinct to the extreme groupies like Janet (which gave us a good story shared in The Only Living Witness) :

Most worshipful was a woman named Janet, who began writing Bundy in the summer of 1979. He returned a single letter after going to Death Row, enough response from her hero to inspire Janet for months. In September, she wrote him, “I got the letter you sent me and read it again. I kissed it all over and held it to me. I don’t mind telling you I am crying. I just don’t see how I can stand it anymore. I love you so very much, Ted.
Janet sent him photographs of her and begged for pictures back. Her letters poured in. “I adore you and I just can’t stand not hearing from you,” she wrote. “It’s absolutely tearing me apart. You are so precious to me. I want you so much I can almost taste it. What I wouldn’t give to have an hour alone with you. I would show you in every way how much I love you. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do.
Janet, who was married, was jealous of Carole. “I guess I should not be writing to you until I get a letter from you letting me know just where I stand,” she once ventured. Janet was willing to overlook Carole, even though “you can’t imagine how bad it hurts me and still is tearing my insides out.


Janet the letter writer came and started at him. Pale, with severely pulled-back hair, Janet sat smoldering for Ted. She apparently meant what she said in her love letters.
Dear Carole,” Ted wrote one day, “please do not sit in the same row with Janet. When I look over toward you, there she sits contemplating me with her mad eyes like a deranged seagull studying a clam. I can feel her spreading hot sauce on me already.


royal meme | royal moments [2/15]

The Wedding of Queen Victoria & Prince Albert / Though Victoria was now queen, as an unmarried young woman she was required by social convention to live with her mother, despite their differences over the Kensington System and her mother’s continued reliance on Conroy. Her mother was consigned to a remote apartment in Buckingham Palace, and Victoria often refused to see her. When Victoria complained to Melbourne that her mother’s close proximity promised “torment for many years”, Melbourne sympathised but said it could be avoided by marriage, which Victoria called a “schocking [sic] alternative”. She showed interest in Albert’s education for the future role he would have to play as her husband, but she resisted attempts to rush her into wedlock.

Victoria continued to praise Albert following his second visit in October 1839. Albert and Victoria felt mutual affection and the Queen proposed to him on 15 October 1839, just five days after he had arrived at Windsor. They were married on 10 February 1840, in the Chapel Royal of St James’s Palace, London. Victoria was besotted. She spent the evening after their wedding lying down with a headache, but wrote ecstatically in her diary:

I NEVER, NEVER spent such an evening!!! MY DEAREST DEAREST DEAR Albert … his excessive love & affection gave me feelings of heavenly love & happiness I never could have hoped to have felt before! He clasped me in his arms, & we kissed each other again & again! His beauty, his sweetness & gentleness – really how can I ever be thankful enough to have such a Husband! … to be called by names of tenderness, I have never yet heard used to me before – was bliss beyond belief! Oh! This was the happiest day of my life!

Elope || Jughead Jones

Request from anon: 26 with jughead and then maybe she’s says I don’t care I will always love you idk I thought it would be cute

Request from @jughead-babe​: 28

26.) “The diamond in your engagement ring is fake.”

28.) “How drunk was I?”

The reader and Jughead get eloped after a drunk night together. This fic deals with the aftermath.

A/N: The reader and Jughead are like 18 in this chapter to make the marriage legal (because I think you need a form filled out by a parent if you’re younger than that).

Gif by @ravemreyes


Being the Sheriff’s kid, there was a lot of stuff Kevin Keller could do. One of which was get himself and his group access to the gay nightclub “Innuendo” for the night of his eighteenth birthday. You had never been to a club before and although you weren’t a fan of crowded public places, you had always wanted to check out a club. Your parents would’ve never allowed you to go, which is why you didn’t tell them you were going and were eternally thankful when they announced they were leaving on Friday morning to go on a couple’s retreat, giving you the place to yourself for the whole weekend. Your best friend Jughead on the other hand had never wanted to check a club out and seemed to have planned to spend his entire life away from crowded public places. Nevertheless he came after you begged him for days to join you. In the beginning, the two of you were just hanging out at the bar talking to each other. Then the bartender snapped at you to either order a drink or leave the bar. The two of you complied, not wanting to give up your seats. One drink led to two. Which lead to three. Then four. After that, everything was a blur.

The bright light peering through the blinds was just one of the many things that woke you up in the morning. Combined with the pounding headache, your aching limbs, and the ringing in your ears, you felt horrible.

You opened your eyes and groaned as the light nearly blinded you. The only thing you noticed was that you were in your room.

Good you thought. At least things didn’t get too crazy last night. Probably just had too much to drink.

You fumbled blindly for your phone on the stand next your bed before your fingers came into contact with a cool screen. You forced your eyes to open again as you attempted to read the messages that had come in. A second later, you felt the full extent of your hangover hit you and you swallowed down the bile that threatened to come up.

God. How drunk was I last night?

You forced yourself to look at your phone and tried to read through the messages again.

You got crazy last night! Hope you had fun with Juggie! ;) -Ronnie

Wow, Y/N, I didn’t know you had it in you! -Betty

I told you you and Jughead were endgame! -Kevin

Do you know where Jughead is? He hasn’t responded to my texts. -Archie

You frowned and pulled your covers back, sitting on the edge of the bed, still looking at your phone. It was then that you noticed you were completely naked and your cheeks became bright red as you held your sheets up to your chest.

What had happened last night between you and your best friend?

You froze as you felt movement from the other half of your bed.

Did you dare turn around?

You turned your head slowly and you eyes widened when you saw the all too familiar black hair splayed on the pillow next to yours. You didn’t have to be a genius to know who it was.


He was on his side, his bare back facing you, his body slowly moving up and down with each breath he took. You panicked.

“Jughead! Jughead!” you exclaimed.

Jughead jerked awake immediately and fell off the bed with a thud. You quickly got up, holding the sheets around you.

“Jughead?” you asked, quieter this time.

A groan sounded from the floor as Jughead pulled himself up.

“Y/N?” he said groggily as he stood up all the way, still half-asleep.

Your eyes widened and you quickly turned around once you saw he was naked as well.

“Juggie, you’re naked.” you quickly said, cheeks reddening.

Jughead was now wide awake as he looked for something to cover his lower region. He quickly settled for the pillow he slept on, now on the floor.

“Uh, okay, you can turn around.” he stuttered.

You turned around and the two of you gave each looks that said, “What the hell happened last night?”

“Okay, don’t panic,” you said. “Jug, what’s the last thing you remember?”

Jughead racked through his brain trying to find something that stood out. He looked up at you.

“I don’t know, we had three or four drinks and then after that it’s all fuzzy. What do you remember?” he asked.

You were about to answer when you ran a hand through your hair and winced as it got caught on something. Your pulled your hand away slowly and you eyes nearly popped out of your skull when you saw you were wearing a wedding ring and plastic engagement ring. You looked up at your best friend who looked like he was going to pass out. You then realized he had on a wedding ring too. Jughead followed your gaze and turned as white as a sheet when he saw the metal on his finger.

“What. Happened. Last. Night?” he asked.

You looked down at your phone on the bedside stand and got an idea.

“Just—Just look through the photos and videos on your phone. I’ll look through mine. Maybe they can tell us what happened,” you said. “But first… Let’s put some clothes on.”

After the two of you got over your initial shock and gathered up your clothes, you could focus on your hangovers which had dissipated a little after the both of you threw up three times each. You had just heard Jughead spit out his mouthwash when he emerged from your bathroom, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

“Okay,” he said, sitting on the edge of the bed next to you, pulling his phone out from his pocket.

“Let’s see what went down last night.”

The two of you went through your photos and videos. Unfortunately there weren’t a lot, just some blurry photos of you and Jughead at the bar and some of you dancing. Then you found a video.

“Hey,” you said, getting Jughead’s attention. “Check this out.”

You played the video and were greeted by the view of a wood floor.

“Is it recording?”

“Juggie, I know how to use my phone! Wait, let me turn it around.”

The camera flipped so it was facing you and Jughead. Anyone could see that the two of you were very obviously plastered. Based on the background of the video, the two of you were at the town hall.

“We’re married!” you said as you and Jughead held up your hands, revealing your rings.

“I want to thank the lovely judge who married us, I can’t remember her name but she was really nice! Oh, and to the town hall who gave us these wedding rings!” you said loudly.

You winced at drunk you’s loud voice.

Video Jughead looked at your ring and frowned.

“You know the diamond in your engagement ring is fake right? It’s plastic. I found it in the cereal box we bought earlier.”

Video Y/N shrugged.

“I don’t care. I’ll always love you no matter what.” you said.

“I love you too.” Jughead said before the two of you kissed, the video cutting out.

You slowly put your phone down and silence enveloped the air.

“So…” Jughead said. “We’re married. We’re really married.”

You nodded.

“Guess so.” you said.

Why didn’t you feel upset? You were still in high school for God’s sake! You had a whole life ahead of you!

“How… How do you feel about all this?” he asked.

You shrugged.

“Honestly… I’ve had worse.” you said, letting out a breathless chuckle.

Jughead smirked.

“Yeah, same.” he said.

The two of you were quiet again. You decided to take a chance.

“You know, what I said in the video…” you began. “That was true. That wasn’t the alcohol talking. It was all me.”

You didn’t know why you were unleashing all of this on him now. The two of you were already overwhelmed with so many thoughts and feelings. 

Well… One more wouldn’t exactly hurt now, would it?

Jughead chuckled.

“Really?” he asked.

You smiled and nodded, shyly looking down.

“I feel the same,” he said quietly and you turned to look at him.

Jughead chuckled again.

“Kind of wild, huh? Best friends for six years and then straight to marriage. We never got to do cheesy confessions of love and the dating in between.” he said.

You decided to be bold.

“We could do it now,” you said. Jughead looked at you. “The dating. I mean… we have the rest of our lives right? Til death do us part?”

A smile grew on Jughead’s face.

“Til death do us part.” he agreed and held your hand linking your fingers together.

So maybe everything was moving a little too fast. Maybe you and Jughead were pretty young. Maybe your engagement ring was a plastic toy found from a cereal box the two of you had bought at four in the morning to satisfy your drunk cravings. But as long as you and Jughead were together, nothing could stop you.


A/N: Holy SHIT, this took me five hours. I hope you guys enjoyed it! Send me feedback! The huge mashup one will be posted later tonight!


Barney & Robin: Season 9
“I love you too, Barney Scherbatsky.”

I know this quote is from season 8 but it works with this gifset. Barney, will always be her Mr. Scherbatsky and nobody will ever tell me otherwise. It’s important to note that Robin, on her own terms decided to give this name (the name he used to call her Scherbatsky, it’s his nickname for her) but I love that she gave him this name when she could’ve just said “I love you” and that’s it but she didn’t and called him Mr. Scherbatsky because Barney IS her Mr. Scherbatsky. That’s all you need to know, that says endgame right there. Nobody, else will ever be called Scherbatsky it will forever be attached to Barney…

Forever Enough

Summary: [Pre-serum] Steve Rogers is determined to get into the Army, but you and Bucky keep trying to persuade him that it’s not a good idea.

Characters: Steve Rogers x Reader, Bucky Barnes

Warnings: fluff, cute af!Steve, angst, arguing, character deaths [?]

A/N: @redlipstickandplaid  kinda requested this, I say kinda because she asked for some Fluffy Pre-Serum Steve where Buck and the reader try a deter Rogers from trying to join the army- and this, well, my brain had different ideas. Annie, don’t hate me too much, lmao <3

“You need to stop this, Steve,” you let out a sigh as you ran a hand through you hair, exasperated at your friends actions.

He shook his head, taking a seat on the couch. “I can’t. I have to do this,” he spoke with pure determination, that determination he always had every time he tried to enlist and still got denied on medical grounds. He wasn’t one to give up, that’s for sure.

There was a short silence before the door opened, revealing Bucky in his full army uniform. It was fair to say, he looked pretty angry.

“What were you thinking!” he threw his hat unceremoniously onto the spare chair in his frustration. Bucky took a deep breath, running a hand across his face, “you can’t keep doing this, man. Going as different names each time won’t change your medical records.”

“I just want to do something to help, alright?” Steve retorted, getting to his feet, a look of dismay across his face. “Everyone else is out there fighting and I’m just here- doing nothing to save anyone.”

It pained you to see him beat himself up over things that were beyond his control. “Steve, listen to me,” you walked over to him, your hand gently taking hold of his own, “you can help here, and you do help here. You help me just by being here, by being my friend in this crazy, horrible time.”

Those bright blue eyes looked up at you with slight hesitation before Steve spoke, “but I’m not enough, am I? I never will be,” he spoke in a broken tone before pulling away from your touch and making his way out of the house.

Keep reading

ironic dyslexia

pairing: lin x reader (go figure)

prompt: dyslexic author writes a book that lin loves and he meets her and invites her to see hamilton

warnings: hastag makeout and swearing

word count: 3,069

a/n: happy to write some more for you all. this is one of my favorites. kind of pointless, very sweet. i love lin, but what’s new honestly (ps mY SISTER GOT ENGAGED AND IM SO HAPPY)

Masterlist / Prompt List

Today was hard. You could usually manage, but there was something about today that just made writing so fucking hard. God, you couldn’t even get through a paragraph without the little red line haunting every mistake you made while typing. You had an interview today with a publishing company - what if they asked you to read a chapter from your book? The job would be gone the first time you messed up your w’s and m’s. You groaned, pushing your computer away from you seat at the diner.

It was strange. You would go to type a ‘g’ and think, “g is the lowercase version of G,” and “G looks like a 6,” so you would type a 6. It took much longer for you to get your thoughts out, and you often had to stop and think about what you were writing. God, you hoped they wouldn’t give you a typing test. Do they even still do those?

The waiter brought over a plate of hash browns and your cup of coffee. You ate silently, hoping that maybe the food and caffeine would lift your moral. Dyslexia was hard enough, but being an author made it ten times worse.

Your mom laughed - actually laughed out loud - when you told her that you were writing your first book. She thought you had been completely joking. You pushed it though, not only proving her wrong, but more importantly proving to yourself that a disability wasn’t your definition.

And you did. Your first book was off the charts, every day gaining more attention and praise. You even did a segment on The Ellen Show; that’s what happens when you work your ass off.

You had just started packing up your laptop when a voice startled you.

“Excuse me?”

Your head turned quickly as you jumped back slightly. You settled when you realized it was just a young girl. She was kicking the ground, embarrassed. You laughed lightly, “Yes?”

She looked back up to you - she couldn’t be older than ten. “Are you Y/N?”

You nodded, “What can I do for you, love?”

Her smile grew. She pushed a piece of hair from eyes behind her ear, “My mom read me your book and it’s my favorite.”

Taking in a breath, you grinned. This was a whole new community of people that you hadn’t expected to reach, “Thank you so much, that means the world to me.”

She smiled a little bigger, “I have dyslexia too,” she said. Then, instantly embarrassed, she looked back down.

Your heart swelled; you were rarely confronted about your reading disability. Still, rather than being sheepish over the comment, you felt empowered - inspired even.

You leaned in a little closer, touching her shoulder. “Don’t ever let it stop you from doing what you love, okay?”

She looked back up, then nodding a little, she gave you a hug before running back to the table where her dad sat. He gave you a nod of gratitude before looking back to his daughter.

Honest to God, this had never happened to you before. Sure, you had met a few teens who had read your book, but never anyone younger. Even then, never someone who had felt empowered by reading your story. It was a story about a beach house for God’s sake. And they probably had no idea how many times you spelt ‘beach’ 'baech.’ Still, your heart smiled at the gesture. Maybe today wouldn’t be so hard after all.

Pulling your bag over your shoulder, you headed towards the door before you were stopped once again.

“Wait!” Someone called from behind you, your foot halfway out the door. You were rarely noticed in public - and especially not twice in one morning.

It was a man with a shoulder length hair, the top pulled back from his face. He had a book in his hand. It wasn’t until he was right in front of you that you recognized the cover; it was your book. You let a small smile escape, a blush flooding your cheeks. He was handsome.

He let out half a grin, “Y/N?” You nodded, cueing him to continue. “I’m a huge fan - I’m actually kind of awestruck right now and I’m rambling because you’re very pretty and very talented and -”

You laughed, interrupting him, “Thank you.”

He took in a sharp breath, shoving an outstretched hand towards you, “I’m Lin.”

You shook his hand, thinking about how Lin shouldn’t be too difficult to remember. “Y/N,” you greeted, hoping your hands weren’t too clammy.

After a moment of holding your hand too long, he quickly pulled back, scratching the back of his neck.

“What can I do for you?” You asked softly, bringing his eyes back to yours.

“Oh!” He laughed, extending the book towards you, “I was wondering if you could sign my book for me.”

You fished around your bag for a pen for a moment before realizing that he had a sharpie in his hand. You giggled before started writing in his book.

Lin -
     Thank you so much for reading my book. And don’t worry - your nervous ramble was adorable.

Rereading your note to make sure you hadn’t mixed any letters up, you debated on adding your phone number, but you figured that was much riskier than you felt like being.

He gratefully took the book back, shutting it before even reading it. Shaking his head slightly, he smiled, “My cast is going to flip.”

“Cast?” You questioned, suddenly confused.

“Uh, yeah - I’m in this musical about Alexander Hamilton.” He said sheepishly.

Your eyes went wide, “The one here?”

He nodded, “Why? Is there more than one?” He threw you a wink, making your heart skip despite your eye roll.

Still, you giggled before shaking your head, “I don’t think so. My sister just saw it a few weeks ago.”

He smiled with his entire face, “Really? What’d she think of it?”

“She said it was incredible.”

Lin laughed before doing a little dance, “I can try and score you some tickets - the cast would love to meet you. We’ve all read your book.”

You snatched his copy from his, causing his brows to furrow. Quickly, under your name you scribbled out your number. He smirked at the addition, accepting the book once more.

“Call me?” You asked, using your back to push the door open.

“Definitely,” he said, waving slightly as you walked off. Once you had turned around completely, he gave himself a power fist. “Go Lin,” he smirked.

And call he did. Ten minutes after you left the shop, actually.

“I wanted to make sure it wasn’t a fake number,” he defended.

Feeling flirty, you teased back, “Why would I give a cute guy a fake number?”

“Because you’re way out of his league?” He curbed, making your face flush red.

“Tease,” you mumbled under your breath.

He called that night too: “I wanted to double check it wasn’t a fake number.”

“Lin, you already called me. You know it’s real.”

“Okay, maybe I just wanted to talk to you some more.”

And again in the morning, you hadn’t even gotten out of bed.

“Good morning!” He chirped, eliciting a groan out of you as you quickly turned down the volume on your phone.

“Too early,” you mumbled.

“Noted,” he said before continuing. “I got you a ticket for Friday night.”

This seemed to wake you up, “Really?”

He nodded before realizing you couldn’t see him, “Does that work?”

“Yeah,” you said, sitting up and smoothing back your hair. “What do I wear?” You thought aloud.

He laughed, “A dress. But comfortable. It’s a long show.”

“Okay,” you grinned, “Thank you so much.”

“Of course,” he answered quickly. “But you have to promise to meet the cast afterwards - they’ll be pissed if they know they didn’t get to meet you.”

“Absolutely. I’ll be the starstruck one.”

“Doubtful,” he said. You could practically hear his smirk through the phone.

You were writing again the next day. Your mind was elsewhere, thinking about Lin and what dress to wear and Friday. Still, when you went back to correct your mistakes, your writing had a different tone to it; much lighter and more fluid.

Friday came soon enough and you were a wreck. You had called your sister and explained what happened. She instantly gushed about how attractive Lin was - and how talented he was. You called him after, frustrated that he hadn’t told you he was the star of the show.

“You’re telling me that my writing is good, but you’re an Emmy winner for your musicals! I feel like you gassed me up.” You heard him laugh through the phone, making you frown. “Lin,” you whined.

“Okay, okay!” He giggled, “I play Alexander Hamilton in Hamilton, but I didn’t gas you up. I’m actually obsessed with your book.”

“Shut up,” you grumbled. He only laughed again.

“You’re adorable,” he settled on, making you blush. “But seriously, Jasmine - you’ll meet her, she is so talented - was the first to read it, right? She gave it to Pippa - you’ll meet her too - and then Diggs -“

“His name is Diggs?”

“Daveed Diggs, he’s ridiculous. He’s a rapper.”


“And then they gave it to me because they wouldn’t shut up about the book, and they were annoyed that I couldn’t talk about it with them.”

You were smiling by now, listening smoothly, “So you’ve got a book club,” you teased.

He threw his head back, “I suppose you could call it that.”

The two of you talked for the rest of the night, by the time it was midnight, he suggested that you just come over.

“Lin, it’s the middle of the night.”

“Well, it depends how you look at it, in some parts of the world -“

“Lin,” you laughed. “For someone who has a never ending supply of energy, how is it that you don’t need sleep? It’s so ironic.”

He smiled into the phone, “Says the dyslexic author.”

You let out a hard laugh. It was new to laugh so freely about something that had limited you for so long. He wasn’t using it against you, simply acknowledging it.

“Too far?” He asked, suddenly nervous.

“Absolutely not. It feels good to laugh about it. To recognize it.”

Lin smiled, “I’ll see you tomorrow at the show?”

“In a dress,” you returned.

“Goodnight,” he said, lingering.

“Goodnight, Lin,” you said. You waited a moment before handing up the phone. You fell asleep smiling that night.

You spent an hour picking out a dress. An hour. Even then, you settled on a simple low cut red dress - it wasn’t even that excessive! Still, you curled your hair and did your makeup, giving yourself ample time to get to the theater.

The show started at seven and you arrived around 6:30. A few people noticed who you were, a pair of teenage girls even asked if you were planning on writing more.

“I’m working on something right now, actually,” you smiled, playing the tease you knew you were.

Their eyes lit up as they begged for details. You laughed as you shook your head, “Sorry! You’ll just have to wait.”

After snapping a photo with them, you found your seat, still clutching your playbill. You flipped through the book, a paper falling out with the cast list on it. The cast changed frequently, so they used scrap paper instead of printing the bios and photos of the new actors. Your heart leapt when you saw Lin’s name across the dotted line of Alexander Hamilton.

The lights dimmed and the show began, the beat instantly pulling you in. You had no idea what you were in for, but boy, did you love it.

You weren’t sure what to do at the end of the show to be completely honest. After the final bow, you were overwhelmed to say the least. Sure, you had written a book. But that? Hamilton? They just made magic onstage.

You waited a few minutes before deciding to text him. What was he thinking? What were you thinking? You had absolutely no idea where to go or who to talk to. Before you could get your phone out of your bag, however, an usher had placed a hand on your arm.

“Miss L/N?” He smiled. When you nodded, he continued, “Mr. Miranda asked that I invite you backstage.”

A smile rushed your face as you followed him towards a back door, still gripping your playbill as if your life depended on it.

The guy who had played Hercules Mulligan was waiting for you behind the door. Thanking the usher, he pulled you back into the dark hallways with a grin so big it filled his face. He hugged you, making you jump for a moment before accepting the gesture and returning it quickly.

“I’m Oak, I love your book.” He said as he pulled away.

“I loved your performance,” you smiled, feeling awestruck.

He laughed but was abruptly shoved away, “Oh my gosh,” the girl behind him said.

“Jas, this is Y/N,” Oak introduced.

A curly head bobbed over, instantly hugging you, “You are one of my biggest inspirations.”

You took in a breath, softly thanking her before hugging her back. When you pulled away, you squinted before asking, “You’re Jasmine, right?”

She nodded quickly, slightly slapping Oak on the chest before turning and whispering, “She knows who I am.” Suddenly, Jasmine was pulled away from you to reveal a dressed down Lin. He had on some sweats and a black Hamilton tee. The sight of him made your heart skip. Who the hell looked that good in sweats? He was unreal.

He puffed up his cheeks before slowly breathing out.

“Hi,” you said.

Lin shook his head slightly before offering a hand and leading you away. Gratefully, you accepted. His hand left yours, resting on the small of your back, flooding your body with fire; making you burn.

His lips trailed to your ear, slowly breathing out, “You look incredible.” Electricity traveled down your spine as his words hit you.

You tried to push your smile down, but his hand fit perfectly and his hair was messy but he was so damn hot and you couldn’t help it.

“Only one person to dress for,” you quipped, moving a little closer to him, as if there was any room between you. He let out a soft groan, moving you more curtly to his dressing room.

He took a deep breath when he got into the room, as if to calm himself down. Lin pulled you to the couch, sitting much closer than two friends would.

“So what did you think?” He asked, nudging your shoulder, “Was your sister right?”

You let out a laugh before you nodded, “For the first time in her life.” You turned to face him. His grin made it’s way to his eyes, “You are ridiculously talented,” you said, still starstruck.

“Then I won’t let you see Javi play Hamilton. You might like him more than me,” he laughed. His laugh was breezy, like the conversation wasn’t filled with heat.

“Who says I like you?” You said, your brows furrowed, a teasing tone making its way off your lips.

“That dress,” he said quickly, easily. You let out small gasp, rarely allowing yourself to flirt so liberally. Speechless, you shook your head with a smile on your lips. He played off of this, taking your hand in his. “But seriously, you liked it?” He asked, turning the subject.

You nodded instantly, “It… was the best thing I’ve ever seen.”

He rolled his eyes, “That’s exaggerating.”

“Maybe, but it was still amazing.” You shrugged.

He was closer than he was before. When did he get so close?

“You’re amazing,” he tried.

You crinkled your nose, “Cheesy.”

He giggled, placing his other hand on your cheek before touching his lips to yours. Melting immediately, your hands found his neck and you pulled him closer. His hands dropped back to your hips as his lips molded yours. Your lips parted as his kisses got longer, hotter. You sighed into him, tugging his hair lightly when he nipped your bottom lip. The fire in your chest had traveled to every part of your body and you had never felt so good.

“Dude! Why didn’t you tell me Y/N was here - oh shit!” Someone yelled, barging into the dressing room and causing you two to pull apart. Accidentally, you smacked Lin in the face as you jumped back to the end of the couch.

“Shit,” you both groaned, you in embarrassment, him in pain. Reaching towards him, your placed your hand back to his jaw where it had previously been in much different context.

He laughed lightly, “I’m okay,” he assured you. Your eyes were still worried so he leaned forward and pecked your lips once more, making you smile.

A curly haired boy walked in sheepishly alongside Jasmine. Lin laughed, flopping back on the couch. “Go figure.” He laughed.

The boy furrowed his brows, letting out a slight huff.

Throwing a hand up, he introduced you, “Anthony, this is Y/N. Y/N, this is Anthony.”

You offered a small wave, your blush undeniable. Quickly, Jasmine broke the tension with a laugh, “You couldn’t even lock the door, Lin?”

Lin face palmed, slapping a hand over his eyes. You looked down, trying not to giggle (and failing). Maybe it was the way Jasmine leaned so easily against the counter, like this was something enjoyable for her to see, or maybe the way Lin had kept one hand around your waist during the entire affair, but you weren’t nearly as embarrassed as you should be.

“We’re going to get some pizza if you want to come,” Anthony said, scratching the back of his neck.

Jasmine was quick to kid, just like Lin, “Unless you guys are preoccupied.”

Lin groaned, standing up and ushering out the door, mumbling something in Spanish before turning back to you, “I am so sorry.”

You shook your head, “Don’t worry about it. I love your cast.”

He was back to the couch, sitting just as close as he had before. “Oh yeah?” He grinned, giving you no time to respond before his lips were back on yours.

anonymous asked:

For the Drabble request could I please get Jimin, 32, and have it be a domestic!Jimin AU? Thanks, and congrats on 5k💕

thank you so much for requesting this i loved writing it! and thank you! i hope you like it! 

32.“Babe I did a pregnancy test.”


Originally posted by amsimaria

Keep reading

Marichat May Day 4

Prompt Calendar hosted by yours truly and @marinette-sky

Day 1: Milk Day 2: Purring Day 3: Homework

I’ve been working late so catching up with prompts now! ;;

Day 4 “Romeo, Romeo…”

“I think this is a bad idea, Nino,” Adrien sighed, running his hand through messy golden locks.

Stop being such a party-pooper, man,” his friend replied, slipping a peacock blue mask over his eyes. “You want to get over Rose, right? The most beautiful women in Paris will be at this ball tonight. It’s the best place for you to be!”

“We’re going to be spotted,” Adrien warned his friends, shifting the heavy drum from one arm to another. “Why are we walking into the lion’s den?”

“Relax, lover boy,” Nino grinned. “It’s a masked ball! No one will be able to tell it’s you. Let’s roll.”

Adrien sighed again, and pulled on his own black leather mask with pointed ears.


The banquet hall was full of young girls in their finest gowns, but Adrien noticed one, not dancing, but sitting alone at a nearby table. Her robe was dusty pink and modest, and her mask lay in pieces on the wooden table.

“Is this seat taken?” he asked huskily, suddenly taken aback by the big blue eyes now watching him.

“Go ahead,” she waved, before returning to her mask, trying to fashion the pink flowers back together.

“What happened?” Adrien asked, motioning to the mess.

“A jealous classmate,” she remarked.

“I see,” he nodded. “I can understand her jealously, though. You are the prettiest girl here. In fact, I would like to thank her for breaking the mask, because now I am able to see your face.”

“Oh?” the girl laughed at his forwardness. She held out her hand, and he brought it to his lips in a kiss.

“May I know your name?” she asked.

“It is a secret, Mademoiselle,” he said, tapping his black mask. “Call me Chat Noir for now.”

“Very well, Chat Noir,” she smirked. “I am Marinette.”

“Marinette,” he repeated. “Would you like to dance?”


And so they spent most of night in each other’s arms, though on every third dance, Chat Noir had to give way to another, so as not to raise any eyebrows. He was delighted when each time, Marinette would return to him, her favoured dance partner.

The night too soon came to an end, and Nino was jostling him. “We need to go,” he hissed. “I think Nathaniel has noticed us.”

The blonde nodded, and searched for Marinette. He wanted to say goodbye, but she was pulled away by a woman he assumed was her mother.

“Do you know who that is?” Adrien asked Nino, as they made their escape.

His friend glanced back. “That’s the only daughter of Lord Dupain. Marinette, I think.”


Marinette could still feel the blush on her cheeks as she brushed her hair for bed. She had danced all night with a complete stranger, mere hours after her mother had told her that Theo wished to take her hand in marriage. He was much older than her, but her mother thought it a good match. Marinette had asked for some time to think about it, but even now she knew her answer. If she had to marry, she would much rather it was the blonde-haired boy with the green eyes that she had met at the masked ball.

Marinette wandered out to her balcony, hoping that the night air would cool her cheeks. She gave a frustrated sigh, wishing she had acquired the boy’s real name.

“Chat Noir!” she exclaimed to the sky, placing her hand against her cheek. “What use is that?”

“You called, princess?” a voice called from below, and Marinette jumped with fright. She peered down, and was just able to make out a boy all in black, with golden hair.

“What are you doing here?” she squeaked, her fingernails digging into the marble of her balcony. “How did you find me?”

“I flew over these walls with the light wings of love. Stone walls can’t keep love out.”*

Marinette giggled at this. “Are you here to tell me your real name, Chat Noir?”

“Alas, princess, you cannot love a rogue with a name such as mine.”

*real line Romeo uses. They are both romantic saps
In Your Head - Part 6

Jughead Jones x Reader

Reader: Y/N

Brother: Y/B/N

Word Count: 2,707

Summary: You are almost 3 months into a relationship with Jughead Jones. You are going through a tough time being too much in your head as the anniversary of “that night” comes closer. Jughead can sense something is wrong.

Warnings: Features sexual content, as well as a rape flashback and parental abuse. Please don’t read if easily triggered.

With your gaze at Jughead, you took a breath and looked to the floor. Your turned back to Archie and after a slight sigh, “How do you like your eggs Arch?”

He smiled, “Anything is fine Y/N…so Juggie….” his eyes went to Jughead behind you. “You okay? I’ve never really seen you like that before…” He was a little shy in asking.

“I’m better now”, Jughead glanced at you. You gave a smile and it was returned.

“Yeah I can see that”. He gave a bashful look to the he both of you. “So….here’s the thing…..you know how when Ronnie gets determined by something, she doesn’t let anything stop her?” He was glancing back to just Jughead now.
While Jughead and you had gotten to the point where you could exchange glances and understand each other - it was nothing on the level of Jughead and Archie. They could have conversations with just looks, it was a sight to see. You turned back to Jughead and saw his face slightly fall and lock your eyes with yours.

“…..what?”. Your curiosity had heightened.

Jughead gave a breath, “is it all of them?”

“Yeah, Betty tried to stop them but she was fighting a losing battle….” Archie’s eyes dropped to the floor looking a little ashamed.

You waved your hands in front of both of them. “What are you two talking about?”

Jughead looked back to you, with his hand now on your shoulder. “Veronica, Kevin and Betty are here….or at least I’m assuming somewhere nearby….” his eyes turned back to Archie.

“They’re in the truck. She kind of demanded it….”.

“Ah. And they sent you in first to make sure?”. You finally got the full conversation.

“Yeah. So should I drive them to Veronica’s or not…because you can say no if you want to Y/N. Betty said they had to agree to that. That it had to be up to you…”. His words trailed again.

You looked back to Jughead who was now next to you holding your hand. “Whatever you want to do Y/N”. He gave a smile but the look of concern was behind it once again.

You took a breath and thought about it for a moment. You looked at the bowl of eggs in front of you, “Okay, but everyone is getting scrambled eggs….”. Archie gave a slight laugh and headed back to the front door.

Jughead tugged at his flannel you had adorned, “You sure? You don’t have to you know”.

“I know. But they’re my friends, and they’re good ones. They obviously have some concern…”

“What is it?” He could tell you were refraining from your words.

“I’m just going to tell them about Chuck and last year. Not everything. Is that alright?” Your eyes were a little watery.

He gave a smile, “Of course. It’s yours to tell. No one else’s”.

You looked at his chest and giggled, “You should probably get something on….”.

He looked down, almost forgetting that he just had boxers on besides the gray beanie. “Oh crap”, he quickly ran upstairs. You yourself buttoned the flannel higher, otherwise you weren’t too worried at how you looked at this point. You cracked the rest of the cartons eggs into the bowl and began to stir the mixture into the pan now hot behind you.

Archie came back to the kitchen and the rest of them had followed in. Veronica slightly shouted while entering the kitchen, “Y/N! What the hell was all of that?”

 “Sorry. She drank a little more….” Betty interrupted before you could respond. 

 “I stopped over an hour ago”, Veronica was trying to be aware of her voice now.

You heard footsteps coming back down now and were greeted by a fully clothed Jughead. 

“Well Heeeeelllllloooo Forsythe”. Veronica gave a giggle while excited to use his formal name. 

He gave you a loving glare, “She’s never living that one down you know”. 

You giggled, “I said I was sorry about that”. 

They were all kind of looking at you now, some with concern on their faces. Betty herself mouthed “I’m sorry” and you just gave her a reassuring nod. You gave a deep sigh. You looked to Archie, “Grab some plates. I’m making pancakes and the eggs are almost ready. Then we’ll move this to the living room”. You drew your eyes back to your group of friends, “Okay?” 

They all nodded while Jughead went around the other side of the kitchen and grabbed some glasses for everyone. He shoved Veronica a glass of water and gave her a look of subtle annoyance. “Why thank you Forsythe”, she once again gleamed using the name. He grabbed you a glass of water too and set it down before drinking almost a full one himself. You stopped yourself from giggling and cracking a joke of why he was dehydrated. 

You looked over to Kevin, who had a look of concern on his face. He still looked confused by what had happened at Cheryl’s. 

With pancakes now on plates next to some scrambled eggs for everyone else, you served Jughead and you last. He looked towards you before heading into the living room with everyone else. “You sure?” 

“Yeah I’m sure”, you gave him a peck on his cheek before following him out with your own plate to the living room. 

Betty didn’t really even touch her food, knowing some of what was coming. She was in a chair by herself while Kevin, Archie and Veronica were all on the couch together. You put your plate down on the coffee table and sat down at the chair Jughead had got for you. He got one for himself and set it beside you. He took one bite of his eggs and set the plate down himself and the reached for your hand. 

Veronica was finishing a pancake when she realized everyone had gotten silent around her. She looked up, “sorry”. 

“So why did Jughead punch Chuck? You know…not that I’m complaining about it…” Kevin decided to speak up first. 

“Because Chuck was trying to do something”. You gave yourself a breath to prepare your next words. You then went into what you had told Betty as well as what Jughead learned at Cheryl’s. You went into that night itself and even got to the part of you walking home by yourself. All the while holding and squeezing Jughead’s hand at the parts that were harder for you to tell. They thought that was it, until you went into what you did to yourself, your medication and then proceeded to lift the sleeve on your arm. You finally looked up to all of their eyes.  

Betty had tears again, not knowing the details or the last part and tried to give you a smile. Kevin had both of his hands over his mouth, shocked while then reaching for Betty’s hand. Archie, sitting in between both Veronica and Kevin, had a rather sad face. You couldn’t tell if he was holding back tears or not. He looked right in your eyes, his jaw a little open in astonishment. And then his eyes led back to Jughead’s. Jughead seemed a little angry while still holding and caressing your hand for comfort. 

You looked back to Veronica who had looked angrier than when you told Jughead. She made a fist with her hand and shot up from the couch. Everyone’s eyes were on her. With a stern voice, the words “I’m going to kill him”, escaped her mouth before she darted to the front door. 

“Ronnie!”, Archie leapt up behind her and grabbed her hand before she could make it to the doorknob. 

“And now we’ve made a full circle to what happened in the kitchen….”. You had always made jokes when you were uncomfortable and everyone seemed a little thrown off by your statement. 

“Sorry, that’s what I do when I’m nervous…” you stood up but before you could finish your words, Kevin’s arms were around you. He slightly released you and you started to reassure him. You wiped his tear with the flannel sleeve, “Hey, I’m okay now, alright?” He just nodded, heading back to the spot on his couch. 

“Veronica, will you please sit down?” Your eyes looked back to Archie holding Veronica back from the door. 

“Fine, but I want to kill him”. Veronica slowly made it back to the couch while releasing her fist. 

“Truer words….”, Jughead still sitting on the chair looked back to Veronica. You gave a look back to Jughead of “not helping” while coming back to your seat.

Kevin chimed in again, “Well, shouldn’t you tell someone?”, you could tell he was choosing his words, “like my dad? Your parents?”. Everyone looked back at you. You gave yourself a second to breathe, as you figured this question would come up. 

“Well it wouldn’t do much good now. With no real evidence, it would just be a “He said, she said” type of case. And I don’t know if I could handle everyone knowing. I have talked to my therapist about it though.“ You paused again, “and I don’t really want to tell my parents. I have you guys, that’s enough”. You looked back to Jughead when you said the last part. His eyes never tore away from you while you were speaking. 

You looked back to everyone Betty finally asked something. “Well what can we do?” 

You paused and looked at everyone’s faces. It was a new feeling to be surrounded by people that actually cared about you. Besides your brother, you had never really experienced it before. “You can eat. I think Juggs is about to die from starvation”. You smiled while looking back at Jughead, both Veronica and Betty gave a small laugh, while Archie came back to his spot on the couch. The redhead looked at his food with determination and began to eat. Everyone followed in suit. 

 A few moments went by, with everyone eating. Jughead not so shockingly finished first and went back to the kitchen for more eggs. When he sat back down, you finally broke the silence. “So how was the rest of the party?” 

Betty’s eyes went towards Kevin’s, as if they had a secret. Kevin looked up from his plate meeting Betty’s eyes, “I totally forgot!” All eyes were now on Kevin. And you were happy that something had gotten back to normal - it was if you were back at the lunch table all eating together. “So Moose grabbed me off the dance floor, and then made out with me in one of the rooms at Thornhill”. Not too surprised by the statement, you looked around. Veronica had seemed engrossed with Kevin’s words now. “But then Midge was looking for him and kind of found us together. He flew out of the room to catch her and I still don’t know what happened. He hasn’t texted me back”. He looked back at his phone and his eyes dropped a little as it seemed there were no new messages for him. 

It went around to the others, Veronica talking about how she had to show people what was in a martini, Betty trying to ward of Veronica and Kevin from coming here sooner and Archie talking about the Pussycat’s set and talking about Valerie in all of her musical glory. 

Archie offered to take them back to Veronica’s and they agreed to it. Veronica let Kevin take your spot at the sleepover and all had finally gotten up from their seats heading towards the door. Kevin waited for you to fully get up and gave you another hug with a reassuring smile. Betty did something similar and when Veronica reached in for her hug she whispered in your ear, “I will seriously kill him for you if you want to”. You gave a small a laugh and told her it was “okay”.

Veronica looked over to Jughead, “Forsythe” while giving a curtsy. Both Betty and Kevin laughed a little while Jughead rolled his eyes.

 Archie gave you a pat on your arm and looked to Jughead telling him to “not worry about the kitchen”. The door had closed and all you could do was take a deep breath. You were tired and finally ready to sleep. A welcomed feeling since the few nights before, you had tried not to sleep altogether, in fear of your nightmares. 

You turned to Jughead. “So, back upstairs?”, he had looked tired himself.

“Yeah”, you nodded while he reached for your hand leading you back up the stairs. You entered his room again. The room was dark and he didn’t bother turning any of the lights back on. 

He adjusted the blankets and then took off his shirt. “Come here”. He grabbed your hand again, gently kissed your lips all before saying, “you know you’re really brave right?” 

You gave a slight sigh, “I don’t know about that. I’m pretty sure I’m just trying to live through all of this….”. Your rolled your eyes back to your feet. 

“Nope. You’re brave. Trust me”. He smiled while grabbing the side of your face, bringing your lips back to his. “So how about some sleep?”. 

“Sounds good to me”. You both laid on the bed and he pulled the covers over the two of you. His body faced yours and he leaned in to give you a kiss on your forehead, “I love you Y/N”. 

You smiled, put your arms around his side, “I love you too Jughead”.

 *deep breaths*

 “Come on. I know you want it…” you tried kicking him. “Don’t fight it…”, he pushed your arms back down and knocked the wind out of you with his knee. “I want you, your making this harder for yourself…”, you tried to scream again and he covered your mouth, “I SAID don’t scream”, he socked you in your side again. You whimpered and began to nod, still crying while giving a small scream to what he was now doing under your dress. 

 *muffled scream* 

You woke straight up again, and saw the alarm on your phone going off. 6:45, it was the one you had for medication. You swiped it quickly before you turned back to the bed. “Are you okay?!?”, you saw Jughead’s face looking a little horrified. 

“Yeah, yeah. I’m alright…” you caught your breath. You got up, found your bag and grabbed your meds. “I’m getting a glass of water. Do you want anything?” You finally put your eyes back to Jughead who was now sitting straight up himself. You went back to the bed and sat next to him. Grabbing his hand, “I’m okay, really. Just a nightmare, promise”. He laid back down, “I’ll be right back, okay?” You gave him a peck on his forehead and made your way downstairs.

The kitchen was clean from the night’s breakfast you had made and you grabbed a glass and did your morning routine of a full glass of water with a pill. You went back up the stairs. 

You were greeted by Jughead sitting up in the bed. You closed the door behind you. You took a deep breath, "you want to know….”. 

“Yeah. You shouldn’t have to go back there”, his hands were playing with a sheet out of nervousness. 

“Look, I get my therapy and my meds because my dad let’s me do that, my mom never agreed to it. And it’s not just me, it’s also my brother. I have to, and again, it’s been better than it has been in years. If something happened, big wise, I promise, I’ll do something. Okay?”. You finally met his eyes. He nodded while not entirely agreeing to the idea of you going back. 

He gave a long pause. “How long do you have until you have to be back?" 

 "About 1, my dad comes home tonight”. You knew that meant you had to get the house “pristine”. 

 "Alright, but your mine until then”. He moved the sheets back welcoming you back in and gave a large smile. He grabbed you in with his arms and once again you fell asleep, in a loving embrace with the feeling of being safe.

Hidden (Part 1)

Jinyoung loosens his tie as he settles at his desk. It’s been two years since the disappearance. Even with search teams, his mission never succeeded. The locked away drawer at his desk holds all of the past and as tempted as he is to get a glimpse of it, he fears of the emotions it’ll bring him.

Keep reading

As someone who happens to really enjoy wine, delicious food, and beautiful countrysides, I can’t help but love Napa County just north of me, here in San Francisco. I also have Napa to thank for Olivia O’Brien, the fast rising chanteuse who gave us eternally infectious “hate u, love u”. The young talent, now based out of LA, is signed to Island Records. She’s been tipped by V magazine as “the next generation of Taylor Swift-esque anthems wrapped in the sweet vocals of Lorde and maturity of Lana”, and she continues to impress with a new single named Empty, which really isn’t empty at all. This smoky curling, synth heaving R&B pop number addresses the melancholy and confusion Olivia felt when she first moved to LA. I’d imagine if Lana and Alessia Cara made a song together, it’d sound similar to this tune, which comes with a music video you can watch below. 

Made with SoundCloud

waitingforeleven  asked:

FS + 16 from the prompt list! ❤❤❤❤

things you said with no space between us”

Hello! Sorry for taking so long, but here you go! Set right when Fitz rescues Jemma from the monolith; Will can exist or not at your preference. :)


Fitz,” she sighs, and she thinks she feels her mouth move in a way she remembers as smiling. After everything she has the energy left for one last smile. She’s not entirely positive she’s even still alive but if this is her last breath, she can’t imagine a better use of it than calling to him. In his name, she is saying everything: you found me, you never gave up on me, I think I’ve loved you from the moment I met you.

All of the adrenaline leaves her body in a rush and she goes limp. Fitz holds her so tightly against himself that it should be suffocating, but somehow breathing in his scent fills her lungs with the only oxygen she’s ever needed.

She wants to cry. She wants to laugh. Most of all, she wants him to pull her into his own body because there she will be safe and cherished and she won’t lose him ever again.

There is so much she needs to tell him. Dimly, she hears voices she’d long relegated to her dreams cheering from above. She inhales dust and feels her bones sinking into the blown rubble of the monolith. But his heartbeat against her ear is the most real thing in the universe, and she’s seen so much more of the universe than anyone can know.

“Fitz,” she tries again through a mouthful of his shirt and oh, god, she hopes he can understand everything she’s been too afraid to say and everything she’s now too weak to voice.

She passes out. Her last thought before she loses consciousness is of home.


Jemma jerks awake, pulse racing and bile threatening to choke her. Her heart is in her throat but her arm does not waver, weapon always at the ready. Once upon a time, she was a scientist and all she wanted was to discover and create beautiful solutions to help the world, but she knows better now. She can kill. She will kill. She will do anything to protect herself, to protect Fitz, even though Fitz is on another planet and she will never see him again.

Fitz,” she gasps suddenly, as she looks over and sees him sitting against the wall, asleep in a position that will do him no favors when he wakes up.

You can’t possibly be real, she reasons, but before devastation can wash over her again, she realizes she’s never imagined him in this outfit before. She’s also never imagined him keeping such a gentlemanly distance.

She climbs down from the bed, refusing to blink, because he has fizzled out from right in front of her eyes before, and she can’t let it happen again.

She lowers herself slowly until she is lying on the hard ground which is still somehow softer than the surface of her hell planet. His thigh is her pillow and she wraps a hand around his knee. He hasn’t disappeared, and she allows herself to close her eyes. She wants to weep with the beauty of it.

She doesn’t know how long she sleeps, but she feels Fitz stir and his slight movement wakes her in the softest way possible.

“Jemma?” he whispers, her name melting in his mouth like ice cream. No one but Fitz has ever said her name like it’s the most precious word in their vocabulary.

Don’t leave me, she wants to say as she grips his leg tighter and still, still she can’t get the words out.

He runs his fingers through her hair, so lightly she could be imagining it. Her scalp tingles at the contact. He’s doing something not even the shower and new clothes could do: he’s making her remember what it’s like to be human again and her chest feels like it’s cracking wide open.

She blinks back tears, frustrated at the jumble of white noise in her brain and her inability to articulate any of it.

“Do you want to go back to your bed?” he asks gently. “It can’t be comfortable down here.” If only he knew how much nicer this floor is than her previous accommodations. If only he could soothe her bruises.

She lets him help her up anyway, and she lets him guide her back onto the bed, but she doesn’t let him leave. She grabs hold of his hand with a fierceness that seems to surprise him.

“Are you sure?” he asks, his blue eyes so clear and bright and nothing like the stifling blue of the perpetually-dark planet.

Of course I’m sure, she thinks. I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life, but like all of her other words they stick in her throat before she can release them.

“Fitz,” she says, his name her talisman and her only prayer. Her favorite word. Please understand.

He climbs into bed and turns onto his side, holding her hands against his chest. He looks at her in concern, but he’s also smiling, like his world has been dark and void and he’s finally seeing the sun for the first time. She knows a little something about that.

He’s still keeping too much distance, so she pulls on their joined hands until he moves and there’s no space left between them. Until the press of his body against hers is the only law of physics that still applies.

“Mine,” she whispers, mouth pressed against his throat. She’s close enough to taste the salt of his skin and feel his pulse like it’s her own. “My Fitz.”

“Yours,” he agrees in a hoarse, tearful murmur and she feels boneless with relief.

His arms tighten around her and there’s so much more she wants to say and so much she wants to do. But now, at this moment, she’s dizzy with exhaustion.

Right before she falls asleep to the rhythm of his breathing, she promises herself that as soon as she’s able, she will tell him everything she has learned. She will tell him that when she said “maybe there is,” she meant there is and always has been and always will be. She will tell him that when she dreamt of home, it was always the same: his arms around her, his heart beating beneath her hands.