i wish i could have come up with something interesting and beautiful at the same time

Yuri!!! On Stage Event Report!

So today (4/29/2017) I went to the Yuri on Ice Yuri on Stage event. To clarify though, I was not at the actual Tokyo event, rather a live viewing at a local movie theater. Which of course does alter the experience but it’s the next best thing. At first I thought the theater was only doing the afternoon session, but very last minute I ended up being able to attend both!

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If I’m a Saint, Then You’re Heaven

Summary: Phil is less than excited to start his Sex in the Bible course, but he can’t bring himself to regret it when he meets a gorgeous angel dressed in all pink by the name of Dan.
Word Count: 11,068
Warnings: Lots of religious talk, homophobia, physical fight, smut
A/N: Hey guys! I wrote this because I was tired of people writing a religious fic where Phil continuously tries to get Dan to sin. So this came out, where they both respect each other despite their religious differences (With a dash of sex at the end). If you’re uncomfortable reading smut then no worries! It’s easy to tell when they’re going to get it on and it ends at the ’-’ and is very close to the end (: Lastly, special thanks to @insanityplaysfics for betaing this for me and giving me this entire idea! Also thank you @phandommother for helping me out with the idea as well and listening to me rant about it :’)
Title Creds: Cement - Citizen
Read it on AO3

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Phil didn’t know why he decided to take the class. None of his friends were taking it and it honestly seemed like a lot of shit that Phil didn’t particularly care about, shit that didn’t really help him with his future career in any way. It seemed like a class that had a lot of reading, reading that Phil would probably never do, and let’s be honest, he probably only took the class because it had the word ‘sex’ in the title.

He walked into his Sex in the Bible class five minutes late on his first day.

The teacher didn’t bat an eye. Heads didn’t turn to look at him. Phil just sauntered in and stood at the back of the lecture room with his backpack slung over one shoulder while he scanned the room for a seat. Sometimes he forgot just how uncaring everyone was in university. He could just walk in ten to twenty minutes late and nobody would give a shit. Especially not in a class where there were over one hundred students.

(He didn’t understand why there were so many students in Sex in the Bible. They probably also just took the class because of the word ‘sex’).

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anonymous asked:

Please please share your thoughts on Wonder Woman? Thank you! :)

ANYONE WHO WATCHED WONDER WOMAN (2017) DIR. PATTY JENKINS AND WASN’T COMPLETELY IN LOVE IS NOT TO BE TRUSTED

Some thoughts:

  • So we all knew it was going to be emotional to FINALLY have a female superhero movie, but the movie exceeded those expectations. The fight scenes were incredible and so focused on Diana and what she was capable of – the men basically weren’t even there. The fuckin no man’s land scene SAVED MY LIFE. Superhero movies are known for being heavy handed and this one didn’t escape that for sure (the love speech at the end was….a lot), but that scene was so well done…they didn’t have to stoop to some Éowyn knock off line of “I am no man,” we were allowed to just see her do what real women do - step up and do it. Even though that wasn’t the first time we’ve seen her in full Wonder Woman costume on screen, it felt like it was, like it was the first time I’d EVER seen ANY hero before and it took my breath away. By far the best Superhero Reveal Moment I’ve ever seen. My girl taking out bullets right and left, drawing fire from the entire German army!! Fuck me up!!!
  • You can’t talk about this film without talking about gender role reversals. Chris Pine was So Perfect and I think they really couldn’t have pulled the movie off if they’d cast any other white boy in the role. He was funny but genuine, capable but never arrogant, charming but not entitled about it. He learned quickly what Diana was capable of and respected her for it, always moving to the sideline during the fight scenes (the shield moment with the bell tower comes to mind - who needs a sniper when you can fuckin launch a god at the shooter??), knowing that these were her fights and never trying to mansplain her out of them. He wanted to protect her, but didn’t underestimate her - all the things that a typical female romantic interest does in these kind of movies. It was amazingly well balanced, so much so that I didn’t even mind the romantic sub plot. Plus he was almost entirely naked there, way to play to the audience my dudes!!!!
  • The historical context did the movie such a great service. The outward displays of sexism became so ridiculous when faced with Diana, who genuinely had never had to deal with the patriarchy’s bullshit before. It didn’t just make the men in London look pathetic and mean, it cast a large shadow over the way that women are treated today. 
  • The Dark DC Gradient™ on all the shots isn’t my favorite but it did Chris Pine’s fuckin bright blue eyes a huge favor
  • Gal Gadot was so fuckin good??? Not only was she beautiful, like really really distractingly beautiful, like I kept having to force myself to pay attention to the dialogue cause I, like Steve Trevor, could not stop looking at her (and she’s standing next to Genuine Stud Chris Pine and still?? SHE’S SO BEAUTIFUL). But she was way more then that, her performance was spot on. Diana was naive, commanding, strong, compassionate - while never being reduced down to just a one note version of these things. She felt so real to me, in a genre that spends very little time on character development. Even in the sappiest parts of the script, she sold it. She absolutely sparkled. 
  • Some of the best dialogue was the back and forth between Diana and Steve when she’s asking questions about mankind/London - it was cute and funny without being too overdone or obvious, which it easily could have been
  • The villains weren’t much to write home about, but they didn’t need to be. The movie was so laser focused on Diana and Steve that they really didn’t matter, you could self insert whatever you wanted to there
  • Themyscira is the ideal for I too want to hang out on the beach and never see a man again
  • Also that lesbian line, and how stupid male reviewers blindly did not understand it!!! Fuckin drag em
  • But also the fight scenes on Themyscira were INCREDIBLE. I wish that first section had been a bit longer just because I was enjoying it so much, but it was so refreshing to see all women on screen - women who fought and loved and supported each other. Incredible. 

I haven’t enjoyed, really enjoyed, to the point of not having to think about the message or the structure or how much fuckin time I’ve wasted listening to some male superhero talk about honor or some equally boring garbage, since The Avengers came out in 2012. Even then, Wonder Woman felt like something else entirely. It leaned on many of the same tropes and sequences, but there was enough reinvention in between (particularly the characters, who I felt were much more fleshed out then any superhero movie I’ve seen before) to make it feel fresh and exciting. This so easily could have been a throw away movie, a chance for movie execs to point and say, hey we tried with women that one time!! But Patty Jenkins, and Gal Gadot, and all the other women who worked on this incredible production, knew what was at stake, and weren’t going to let that happen. Every time I see a little girl dressed up as Diana Prince, on her way to the theater, my heart fills more and more. During the film, I found myself on the verge of tears five or six times - sometimes because it was so beautiful, to see a woman who felt so real being strong and vulnerable and saving the damn world, but other times because the plot itself genuinely moved me. Wonder Woman is revolutionary for the industry, sure, but more importantly, it’s just a damn good movie. 

Dear future daughter,


I wanted to write this as a sort of time capsule, so that you would know how your mother was at sixteen and what I expect of you as my daughter.

I love music and singing, and I expect I’ll put you for music classes early on, unless you don’t like singing and composing which is completely okay.
You can quit and join karate or anything you want.
I won’t force you, instead I’ll let you find your own path in life, like my mom let me.

You wanna ride horses? Cool. I liked that too.
You wanna go for kickboxing and learn how to defend yourself? Cool.
You wanna do ballet and enthrall the audience with your magnificent coordination? Amazing.

Anything you want to do babe, I am hundred percent right behind you.

I am big on reading as well, and this may sound odd, but unlike dancing or singing, I would very much adore it if you loved reading as much as me.
I will introduce it gently of course, by telling you adventure stories I wrote for you, about bears and fairies, and any thing you like.
Then I would introduce all sorts of new books, the same ones my mom introduced to me,Malory Towers, St. Claires, Tin-Tin’s, Secret Seven and so on.
If you don’t like reading, I understand.
I hope you do, though.

I am really sorry but you may or may not have my acne.
I am so sorry, I know how much you suffer trying to talk to that cute boy who’s the next Zac Efron, or how hard you try to cover it up.
Or how much you cry over something that someone said about your skin.
I wish I could change things in that department but I can’t. You have combination skin just like me, and it only gets better everyday, and soon enough a beautiful sense of maturity and compassion will bloom, like those Violets you adore.

You might deal with a lot of appearance issues, and trust me, even all the way back in 2017, we still have them.
Let me tell you this, your weight is just the relationship you have with gravity.
It doesn’t define your intellect, beauty, the amount of love you can give to the universe around you.
W=m x g
That’s all weight is.
So eat that pizza, gobble that pancake and never starve yourself.
I am not saying don’t be healthy and exercise, oh no, but its okay to be kind to yourself once in a while.

Career.
Tricky.
I am not going to say I am not going to behind your grades, or behind you to keep them up, but I will give you a chance to improve if you mess up, which you will and thats okay.
That’s life.
To me, do what you love.
Do something that keeps you happy, something that keeps you interested.
Do something that makes you excited to walk into work.
I hope I am doing the same honestly.
To me, education is not just about books and grades, and the colleges you get into.
I’ve probably taken you to so many places in the world, and all that you’ve learned, all the food you’ve eaten, all the cultures you’ve experienced, that is what you have truly experienced. Of course, it won’t pay your bills and it sure as hell won’t help you get to college, but it will make you better citizens of this earth, better human beings, more accepting, less judgmental.

Love.
Oh my, honey, you are going to fall so hard.
For a broken boy with broken promises.
With the talented singer.
With the most popular boy in school.
With someone half way across the world.

In the end, after everyone, you will realize you don’t need to settle for someone who makes you feel terrible about yourself, you just need someone who treats you like the princess you are.
Trust me, its not the prettiest or the most popular that gets to be the keeper of your precious heart.

Of course, if you decide you don’t want to be in a relationship, that’s great.
You’re a strong independent woman who doesn’t need anyone to tell her how downright amazing she is.
(feminist alert! haha)

Trust me.
They are going to break you, shatter you, make you feel like you can never love again.
You will love again though.
Again and again.

(You can change the genders above to suit you)
I expect by the time you are old enough to realize who you love, who you’re attracted to, it won’t matter.
I hope for Goodness sakes, we live in progressive times.
If we don’t, I will love you no matter what, if you’re bi, demi, gender fluid or anyone.
I will love you the same.
Coming out will be the easiest thing you will ever have to do, I promise.

Religion
Well, I am an agnostic, but if you decide that you want to follow a religion I will allow it.
Preferably Hinduism because that would make my mom and dad, (your grandma and grandpa happy) but if its Buddhism, Christianity or any religion, be my guest.
Explore, decide and tell me.
I will respect you if you decide to believe in a higher power, because I think that takes a certain amount of strength.

I might get mad at you, scream, cry and you have to realize I am not perfect.
Far from it.
I just want you to be a nice, respectful and loving human being.
Your grades and talents are secondary to me.
Sure I might not buy everything you want me to, but I promise I will provide you with everything you need.

I need to leave now, but it’s been great getting to know you,
this is sixteen year old me signing out.

Sick of Losing You

Plot: Harry and Y/N lost each other when he found someone else.

Warnings: None aside that it kinda broke my heart.

Playlist to the one shot: https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PL2S-tehb1XqDqkmE4xnz7-SciJy61soVf

Thanks to @interfectorems for being such a good friend, supporter and for requesting this. 
Songs that are mentioned but not on the playlist are “Out of the Woods” by Taylor Swift & “If You don’t Know” by 5Sos.

Pic of this beauty isn’t mine.

I watched from a far how he held on to her hand, his fingers grasping and squeezing hers gently while his eyes never left her pretty face. He watched her speak with such an intensity in his green eyes, as if he literally saw nothing other than her. His girlfriend. Not me.
I took a deep breath, swallowed the thick lump building in my throat and turned away from the sight.
Exactly three weeks ago, Harry and I had shared a kiss. Our first kiss, which had been exactly how I’d secretly always wished for it to be. Of course it had been. Every time you get to kiss the person you love is special and like fireworks painting colors into the sky.

He’d been talking and listening to me all night, similar to how he now was with her and had at some point reached out to hold my hand, just like he was holding hers in this moment.
When the time felt right, he’d leant in and had captured my lips with his. Needless to say, Harry was a phenomenal kisser. He knew when to press further, when to use how much tongue and was very attentive to how my body responded to his. Whenever I thought about it now, my cheeks tingled with the memory of his hands cupping them gently as he cradled my face to keep me close. He’d been so soft, so perfect. Harry had touched me with a tenderness, I thought it’d break my heart. I remembered wrapping my arms around his neck and feeling like they belonged there, like I was meant to hold him close.
Only that I wasn’t. The girl he was with now only proved how insignificant I was.

I couldn’t help peaking and looking over at him again. Harry’s lips. I knew exactly how they felt when pressed against my own, knew their taste and shape. Their warmth. Harry’s touch was impossible to forget.
I watched him kiss his girlfriend with a mesmerized stare, before moving away and into the kitchen, leaving the small gathering of our friends with a murmured excuse that I needed to get a refill of my drink, when in reality I couldn’t bear seeing the man I loved sharing affectionate kisses with someone else.
But not even the kitchen was a safe area for me. t had been this exact kitchen, the one in Harry’s house, where he’d pulled me aside and told me about her for the first time.

“It’s difficult” I think he said. “It’s my fault that this situation has become so messy.”

Was it silly that I could actually still remember every word he spoke to me? That I’d engraved every pause, every take in of breath he made, deeply into my head?

“Listen, Y/N… You’re important to me. I care about you. Need you, it’s just… There is someone. Someone who could be a chance for a relationship and I really want to give this a go. Give her a go, I mean. You can understand that, right?”

At first it’d felt like none of it was real. Because how could he be serious?
Harry. My best friend, Harry.
Only three days after our magical first kiss, three days full of us talking and flirting and texting constantly, he was telling me that he wanted someone else. Her name was Ira. And though he was seemingly behaving the same way with her he had been with me, we weren’t the same. In fact, she was everything I wasn’t. So when he told me he wanted her and not me, that he was picking her over of me, how come I’d been surprised?

I would never be his first choice, not when there were thousands of others he could choose from. And it was time for my brain to learn to not interpret every kind gesture, time to learn to stop overthinking every word. It was time for my head to accept, that there was no way Harry Styles could possibly want me.

So… I had been understanding. Kind even.
I’d lied and told him that yes, I agreed that our kiss had been a mistake. We shouldn’t have done any of that and instead thought of our friendship first, rather than our impulses. I’d kept a smile on my face throughout the entire talk and even finished the short chat by wishing him good luck with her. Another lie.

My fingers shook and so I set the empty glass of my drink down quickly, worried for a moment that I might otherwise spill the last few drops. I didn’t think much when I reached for the bottle of vodka on the counter. There was no getting through this night if I didn’t have something proper to drink. If only I remembered the recipe….

“Need help?”

My shoulders tensed. It couldn’t be him. Please… anyone, literally anyone, but him.

However when I turned around, Harry was there. He stood tall and beautiful, his short hair soft and wavy. Harry’s compelling eyes held my gaze with such a tender rawness in them, my knees weakened. All my body burned for was to wrap my arms around his shoulders and have him embrace me, have him tell me that everything would be okay again. I felt like I needed it, but knew that this was a wish I would be denied. Harry must have felt it, too. It was in the air around us. It had changed and… buzzed. As if being in each other’s presence made the world halt still for a moment.

“I’m sorry,” Harry chuckled lowly when I didn’t say anything. How could he smile like everything was alright?

And what was it he was apologizing for? Abandoning our friendship? Ruining any hope I’d had to find a partner in him? Shattering my heart? Hardly.

“For scaring you,” Harry elaborated, a sudden hint of guilt in his eyes, almost as if he’d read my thoughts.

“It’s fine, Harry,” I muttered, bearing a false smile, “All good.”

It was hard to look at him. Especially his eyes. They burned a whole into my chest whenever my own orbs found them. They reminded me of the Harry he once was, the one I could always come to and rely on.

“What are you doing?” Harry asked, his head nodding towards the bottle of vodka. His forehead furrowed in a worried expression and I quickly set the container back down.

“I wanted to make myself a drink, but the recipe slipped my mind. I’m not as much of an alcoholic as it must look like.”

“Good to know,” Harry chuckled, then, visibly thinking about it first, took a step forward. “I remember what you like in your favorite drink. Could make you one.”

From how close he was standing, it was easy to notice every detail of his skin. Every curve of his lips, every hair of his barely-there beard. My stomach turned.

“That’d be nice.”

Harry smiled and nodded. “Okay.”

We avoided any touching. I was leant against the counter, he stood with a safe distance between us and only came closer when he needed a different ingredient that happened to be near me. It was awkward and… weird. It didn’t feel like ‘us’. The friends we’d been once seemed to be two completely different people. I knew him and felt he was familiar, but there was a emotional distance between us I knew neither of us could overcome. And still, I was with him and even if we behaved like strangers, being with Harry was nice.

“I think that’s it,” Harry said, breaking the silence. His eyes were set on the pink-orange liquid in my glass, then they drifted to my face. A proud smile pulled at the corners of his mouth.

“You 'think’?” I challenged shyly.

I took the glass from him (cautious not to touch his fingers) and took a sip. It tasted great.

“M'not big of a show off,” Harry grinned, “S'it good?”

I nodded and stirred the colored liquid once more. “Thanks, Harry.”

“You’re welcome, Y/N.” His voice was soft and his gaze shy.

The air around us shifted once more. My eyes teared up. What had happened to us? Harry and I… we used to be the kind of friends who didn’t stopped talking to each other for hours. At first, we’d be loud. We’d laugh and giggle so much eventually both of our tummies hurt. That was when we’d change the subject and speak more quietly, until several hours later our conversations drifted to topics only we were allowed to hear. Then we’d be whispering and sitting closer together, always an eager sparkle in the other’s eyes as we both listened with interest about what was being said.

I quickly turned away and pretended to yawn. My eyes blinked rapidly and I willed them not to cry in front of him. Not because of embarrassment, but because I couldn’t do that to him. I’d given him my okay. I had no right to be mad at him for having found someone else. Harry remained standing close and with his hands in the front pockets of his black jeans.

“I think I should go,” I muttered.

I held my head low and took a deep breath before looking at him briefly. Harry’s eyes held concern and his fingers twitched, as if he longed to reach out for me.

“Y/N, love,” he began lowly, “Do you think we could talk for a bit? S'been a while since I got to see you. Hear your voice. I missed you.”

This time when my eyes met his green orbs, I didn’t look away, even though I could feel the tears forming and coming closer to spilling over. Harry’s whole expression changed. His cheeks paled and his forehead furrowed deeper.

“I miss you, too, Harry,” I admitted, my weak voice barely above a whisper.

“No,” he mumbled, shaking his head slowly, sorrow deeply set in his eyes. His feet stepped closer and his warm hands touched my flushed cheeks before I even had the chance to back away from him. The unexpected closeness caught me off guard and had more tears coming, this time because of how much I hated how uncommon this sort of care from him had become.

Harry embraced me. His head buried itself into my neck and both arms wrapped themselves around my waist so he could lift me up from my feet. “Please no, Y/N, Sweetheart. Don’t cry.”

I couldn’t help it. My heart, the final bit that had been whole still, broke in his caring hands and I was overcome and pulled under a wave of grief. That was what I was doing. I was grieving our friendship and the lost hope I’d had for a relationship with him. And he allowed it. He let me cry against his collarbones without any complaint and instead began to hum quietly, knowing how much his voice always soothed me. Pain shot through my chest. He probably did the same when she was upset.

“I can’t-” I cried, but got cut off by my lungs that burned with need for air.

Harry hushed me, his hold tightening, “Don’t, Y/N. It’s going to be alright.”

I shook my head and loosened the hold I’d taken around his neck. My hands momentarily brushed his soft hair, then I pulled away. Harry hesitated but allowed me to step out of his hold.

“I can’t take it anymore, Harry,” I confessed, my voice breaking halfway through the sentence. I reached up to brush my cheeks with the end of my sleeve and hiccuped. My head felt numb and I knew if I didn’t get out of this kitchen soon, he’d witness a break down I wasn’t comfortable with him seeing.

Harry’s hand reached for my arm. I didn’t fight it when he pulled me closer to him, but avoided his eyes when he leaned down to find my gaze.

“Y/N,” he spoke, his voice rough with emotion, “I promise you, it’ll be alright. M'not leaving, okay? M'not. We’ll figure this out.”

I wanted to scream but all I could was shake my head rapidly. “Figure this out how? What have we become, Harry?”

Another sob wrecked through my chest.

“I don’t know,” he confessed, “But we’re going to find each other again, okay? I promise. Let me say goodbye to the others and then we’ll go for a walk or something. We’ll talk. About everything and nothing at all… Just like we always used to, yeah?”

Used to. So long ago, it seemed.

“Okay,” I whispered, my burning eyes set on my feet. My skin shivered under his warmth and my lips hurt from how much I was bitting them.

I flinched when his mouth pressed a kiss to my head. The skin was left with a burning sensation. “Wait for me here, love.”

Harry’s quick feet carried him out of the kitchen and left me standing by the counter with my heart at the pit of my stomach. I stood up straight and brushed the few remaining tears from my cheeks. My skin tingled and I felt the hint of a smile on my lips, even though my body ached.
Looking back now, I wish I would have stayed put by the counter and had waited for him just like he’d asked me to. I wish I hadn’t been impatient and eager to reunite with Harry, because that eagerness drove me to exit the kitchen shortly after him and turn the corner, allowing me clear view into the living room.
There he stood. His arms around her thin form, his hands in her long hair and his lips kissing hers. All air was knocked right out of me. I could see how his hands gently moved against her neck, bringing her in closer and their bodies flush together. When their lips parted for a moment, I could see how he let his tongue run along his lower lip, as if he wanted to make sure he got all of her taste. And I could see him smile warmly at her, right before he leaned back in to connect their mouths once more. This sight… it burned.
I didn’t wait for him. Because I had been wrong before. My heart wasn’t truly broken until that moment, witnessing the man I loved with my everything, kissing a woman who wasn’t me. And if he wasn’t going to leave me, if he was just going to keep me close and allow my heart to shatter over and over again, then I supposed I would have to be the one to go first.
So that’s what I did. I walked back to the entryway, slid on my jacket, picked up my bag, and left the house. Left, to never come back to Harry Styles.

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The tragic story of too much info about the sexual relationship of your best friends or why Alya will forever regret trying to kill Adrien

HAPPY BIRTHDAY @lunian !!!!!!! Remember when we talked about this? Well, I couldn’t resist writing it. I hope you’ll like it. Crack ahead. And if the title wasn’t a dead giveaway, this has some sexual references in it. Nothing happens, but many are said.


“ADRIEN FUCKING DEAD AGRESTE!”

All the people who were still in the courtyard of the Collège Françoise Dupont run for the hills (or in this case, the school building) as Alya Césaire appeared and walked towards her best friend’s boyfriend with all the might of a storm.

“Dude, I think she means you.” Nino stage-whispered to his best friend as his girlfriend made a beeline towards them.

“But my middle name is Bartholomé.” Adrien argued.

Nino rolled his eyes. His best friend really needed to set his priorities straight. “That’s what worries you?”

Adrien gulped. “Burry me in a polka dotted coffin, please.”

Nino was under the impression he wasn’t kidding in the slightest. “Sure, if there is anything left to bury.”

“There won’t be!” Alya snarled as she lifted Adrien by the neck.

Well, this morning is certainly bound to be interesting, Nino thought.


One day, Marinette will be on time to school. One day. Today wasn’t that day. As Marinette speed walked through the school yard she couldn’t help but notice what a beautiful day it was. The sun was shining, birds were singing, Adrien was being strangled by Alya… wait a second.

“Alya!” Marinette shouted, rushing towards them. “Put him down.”

Her best friend was obviously not happy to have to delay her murder. Meanwhile, Nino considered if he should stop filming the whole thing. If Marinette was here, then maybe there won’t be need of proof for the police for a murder. Though, let’s be real, he would never turn his girlfriend in. He would have just posted the video on YouTube in his collection of An Infinity of Reasons Why You Shouldn’t Piss Alya Off. If he was recalling correctly, this video would be number 2749.

“Alya, what is going on? Why are you strangling my boyfriend.” Marinette questioned crossing her arms, while Adrien was gasping for air on the ground.

“Marinette,“ Alya’s tone was regretful and the sad look in her eyes indicated something bad was coming. “I’m sorry to say this honey, but he is cheating on you.”

And in that moment, Marinette felt her whole world crashing down. “What?! With whom?”

Marinette was dying to hear that answer. Who? Did Adrien really cheat on her? Was it some rabid fangirl who jumped at his bones and Alya just got the wrong impression?

Alya sighed. “With Ladybug.”

Marinette blinked. “Damn.” both her and Adrien whispered maybe a little too loudly. Thus Adrien choked, cause he still didn’t regain his proper breathing.

“That’s… unexpected.” Marinette managed to say, trying to think of something plausible to get them out of this situation. She knew it was a bad idea to make out when only one of them was transformed. Damn Adrien and his filthy thirst for her spots. “It isn’t a problem, though, cause… um… this is… an… open… relationship.”

Oh well, not the worst excuse she could have had come with. Alya crossed her arms obviously expecting an explanation while Nino muttered a ‘dude’ under his breath. That’s when Adrien decided to be a supportive boyfriend.

“Yeah. Marinette has her fun times with Ladybug too,” he said, raising his index finger as if that would help him make a point while he was still laying on the ground.

Why is he like this? Marinette sighed internally.

Alya turned to Marinette with an expression that was a mix of shock and anger. “You are hooking up with Ladybug and you didn’t tell me?!”

Marinette glared down at Adrien, who looked sheepish. “Yeah. And don’t forget about Chat Noir.”

“Chat Noir?” both Alya and Nino screamed simultaneously.

“Yeah,” Marinette stated, looking at Adrien, who finally picked himself off the ground, with a mischievous look. “Why don’t you tell us about your escapades with Chat Noir, Adrien?”

Her boyfriend laughed nervously. “What escapade do you mean?”

Marinette smirked. “Well, you did tell me that Chat Noir found you wearing cute yet sexy Ladybug lingerie.”

At this point, Nino had to turn off his camera, unable to hold his phone anymore. “Dudeeeee.”

Alya, to everybody’s surprise, was silent until now. But there was as much as the shock could keep her from asking. "But what about Ladybug?”

“Oh, she thinks the same” Marinette replied calmly while analyzing her nails.

“No, no, I mean, I thought Chat only loves her.”

“Oh that… well, who can resist this model ass?” she asked rhetorically while slapping Adrien’s ass for emphasis. Nino nodded vigorously as well. Honestly, wasn’t it universal knowledge everybody loved Adrien’s ass?

Adrien glared at Marinette. Not for smacking his ass, mind you. He loved getting his ass smacked by her. But for making fun of his taste in lingerie. Well, if this is how she wanted to play, so be it then. “Of course. So if we are discussing this topic, why don’t you mention that time when Chat caught you wearing lingerie inspired by his outfit?”

’Well, don’t try hiding the fact that once you begged Ladybug to tie you with her yoyo.“ Marinette scoffed, trying to hide her blush. That had been an interesting night.

"I need a bucket,” Alya muttered, not sure what to think of her friends and her idol anymore.

“YOU CALLED CHAT NOIR’S DICK AS A BATON!” Adrien shouted louder than necessary, while blushing.

“I guess, I need one too” Nino said, wishing he will just forget everything that had been said so far. And from now on, because apparently Marinette and Adrien weren’t done.

“Remember when you told Chat Noir that you want a collar with a bell too?”

“Oh, really Marinette, should I remind you that one time when I walked on you and Ladybug and you were blindfolded?”

Nino glanced at Alya. “Are we kink shaming them now or later?”

“Then you asked us if you can be blindfolded instead and, I quote ‘used as your little sex toy’.” that had been a strange day. She had an urge to blindfold herself, Adrien came over unannounced and things escalated quickly and she discovered some new kinks of her boyfriend.

“I guess, if we die right here, right this second, they wouldn’t notice it.” Nino states, but Alya was unable to reply anymore, not sure what to make out of this whole conversation.

“You begged Chat Noir to slap you with his tail belt.” Adrien argued back, while his face was putting any ripe tomato to shame.

Marinette screeched. “YOU WERE WEARING MY FAVORITE PINK STOCKINGS.”

“THIS HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH WHAT WE WERE TALKING ABOUT.”

"I’m sure it totally does.”

Adrien scoffed, crossing his arms. “But you can deny they suit me.” he knew she liked them. She even said so that night. They had been a little tight, but she had made him a matching pair better fit for his height.

"Jesus, how many moments like this do they have?” Nino questioned, clearly shocked by how kinky his bro was. And he was sort of afraid fo the answer, if he had to be honest.

“What’s more important, why are we still listening to this mess?” it was Alya’s turn to ask questions that will never get answers. “I’m not even sure if I want to use this thing as blackmail or just erase it from my brain forever.”

“To be honest, it would be much better if Adrien really just cheated on Mari with Ladybug,” Nino said hesitantly, obviously scared of Alya’s reaction. “I mean, I wouldn’t have forgiven him if he ever did that, but at least, in that case, us, innocent bystanders wouldn’t have to be traumatized for life.”

Alya could only nod. Honestly, the mental picture fo Adrien in Ladybug themed lingerie left her with brain damage.

After what seemed like an eternity Adrien and Marinette finished their not so little argument, both huffing and as red in the face as the surface of Mars. Not that anybody would say that out loud, given how much of a nerd Adrien is, he would come with some science facts about the color of the surface of Mars.
.
“So yeah, we have an open relationship.” Marinette concluded, the two of them finally turning to their best friends.

“We got it after the reminder about Chat Noir, thank you.” Nino said, sarcastically.

“Now get outta of my sight, my poor brain had dealt enough with your kinks for now and forever.” Alya ordered waving her hand desperately while rubbing her temple with her free hand.

“Well, if you didn’t want to kill me, none of this would have happened.” Adrien said with a smug smirk.

Alya snarled. "Next time neither Marinette or even fucking Ladybug won’t stop me, Agreste.”

Adrien gulped. Marinette slapped him compassionately on the ass.

➺ Sweet Ardor (m)

cr.

Pairing: Min Yoongi x female Reader

Genre: some sort of fluff, smut; sugar daddy!au

Warnings: mentions of alcohol, language, public teasing, dom/sub themes, powerplay, dom!Yoongi, rough sex, choking, face fucking, hair pulling, orgasm denial, light bondage and the biggest kink: aftercare

Word count: 7,766 words

Synopsis: You like dicks and you like money. To your luck, Min Yoongi has both.

Note: I always wanted to write a sugar daddy fic, especially after reading @floralseokjin‘s sugar daddy!Hoseok so here it is! A big thank you to @gukvory for giving me the starting and ending sentence, to @kittae, @icedrice, @godsavemefrombts and @probabilitae for being lovely betas, and to all of my friends for hyping me up. This is dedicated to @dailydoseofdia, @yoongihime, @yoonseoksofty, @solastiaoriginals, and @minmelly, I hope you enjoy! As always, feedback is appreciated. 

[masterlist]


Min Yoongi’s dick may be big…


You looked at the hand traveling up your thigh under the table, under the slit of the midnight blue and horrifically expensive dress, and tapping his fingers against the sensitive flesh of your inner thigh. It remained there for a while, tracing patterns and gently squeezing your thighs. He retreated it when the food arrived but as soon as you finished your dessert, it slipped back to its former place, all the while he was conversing with the other guests right across the table. You leaned back against the backrest of the chair, parting your legs to grant him even further access and you licked your lips with a small smile when you saw him smirk as his hand slowly inched higher and higher. Breaths hitching when his finger slowly caressed the front of your delicate lace that barely covered your core.

You tensed, crossing your legs while heat shot up to your cheeks and you hoped that you could blame your flushed skin on the three glasses of wine you had consumed. The corners of his lips quirked up as he looked at you with dark, playful eyes and it was then when you finally shot out of your daze and diverted your attention to the conversation taking place.

You tried to answer the middle aged lady’s questions as well as you could, being mistaken for his very young wife because of the shining ring on your finger.

“Oh no, we’re not married. She’s my girlfriend.”

Actually, you weren’t even his friend. He paid for your company. Your dress, jewelry, your shoes.

Min Yoongi. One of Seoul’s top lawyers and your sugar daddy.

Keep reading

It’s Not Gonna Suck Itself

Pairing: Jensen x Reader

Word Count: 1,290

Summary: The reader sends a naughty text to the wrong person.


“What the…no way, dude!” Jared bursts out laughing, practically falling off of his leather chair.

“What?” Jensen asks with furrowed brows, wondering if it’s worth getting up from the couch.

“Wow. I can’t believe she sent me this.” Jared grins widely, glancing back down at the text from you.

“Sent what? Who?”

Jensen grows impatient, his best friend still hasn’t answered him and it’s annoying as hell. He sighs dramatically then moves towards Jared, waiting for an answer.

Keep reading

Teen Wolf Preference - Fake Dating

DEREK HALE

Derek couldn’t believe you had convinced him into doing this.

“You want me to what?” he’d asked, not sure if he’d heard you correctly.  

“I just need you to pretend to be my boyfriend for this event since… I kinda already told everyone that you’re my boyfriend and you were coming. There’ll be free food and alcohol and you won’t even have to talk to many people!”

This had naturally intrigued Derek but there had been something that he couldn’t help but ask you.

“Really? You picked me for your big fake boyfriend plan? You know I don’t… get along well with people around here. Why not Parrish?”

Derek could see Parrish pulling up now at the event in his police uniform. Parrish wasn’t a bad guy but Derek couldn’t help but clench his fists at the sight of him. He wasn’t one to get jealous easily but this guy just put his teeth on edge.

“Shit! Parrish! Why didn’t I think of that?” you’d said angrily, shaking your head, “well, it’s too late. Will you just please go with me, Derek? It’s just one night. We can fake break up the next day.”

Derek had then thought for a moment, making sure to avoid your eye. You had a particular pleading look that you often gave him that made it hard for him to ever say no to you. But he couldn’t resist and looked at you, and it was then that he decided that he was going to be a part of your fake dating charade and he was going to be the best fake date there ever was.

“You came!”

Derek was pulled out of his trance, turning to see you hurrying towards him with a grin on your face.

“I said I would, didn’t I?”

You shook your head, “I just wasn’t sure. Wow, you look really good, you should wear suits more often.”

“I always look good,” he offered his hand, smiling a little as you took it. Your hand was so tiny compared to his. “You don’t look too bad either.”

That was an understatement. Derek always thought you looked gorgeous but right now, he was so blown away by how beautiful you looked that he had to remind himself to breathe.

Gee, thanks. We’re running a bit behind – I’d planned to have at least 2 drinks by now.”

The event was in full swing and Derek felt like he was in high school again. First of all, the event was being held in the school’s hall as the community one was under construction and second of all, he found himself watching protectively over you as he heard several greasy men comment on how good you looked.

“I was wondering when the two of you were going to get together,” Jordan Parrish congratulated the two of you, avoiding Derek’s intimidating stare, “all (Y/N) ever talked about was ‘how hot Derek is’.”

Your eyes widened, taking a rather large sip of your drink as you elbowed Jordan ‘playfully’.

“I did not!”

All throughout the night people had approached you and Derek and gave similar comments (minus the snarky one Jordan gave), saying that they’d seen the two of you out on dates and were wondering when you were going to call it official. In all honesty, neither you or Derek had considered your outings to be dates but now that he was thinking back on it, he wondered if he should start considering them as just that.

Derek proceeded to smile as Jordan winced from the hit you gave him, “well, it was a surprise to me actually. I had always thought the two of you were going to get together.”

“Nah, (Y/N) has only ever had eyes for you!” Jordan glanced at your now nearly empty glass, “want a refill?”

“God, yes please. I’m gonna be needing something heavier at this rate.”

“Completely agree with you.” and with a wink, Jordan disappeared back through the crowd towards the bar and Derek shifted his focus back to you.

“I feel a bit stupid for being jealous of him now,” he admitted, smelling the embarrassment on you which only caused his smile to widen more. Derek honestly couldn’t remember smiling this much since he was a teenager and it turned out a lot of people at the event were being a lot kinder to him because of it.

“Yeah, well, I picked you as my fake boyfriend for a reason. It’s believable and everyone seems to already think it was happening.”

You wished Jordan would hurry up with that drink.

Derek could hear your heart racing and you glanced up at him, something seeming to occur to you as a surprised expression dawned on your face.

“Holy shit – you don’t actually like me, do you?”

He leaned closer to you, his grin seeming rather wolfish now.

“By the sounds of it,” he pointed to your heart, “you feel the same way.”

Derek was now the one taken aback as very quickly, you closed the gap between the two of you and pressed a hard kiss against his lips.

“Stupid werewolf powers.” Was all you said as a low growl came from the back of Derek’s throat, Jordan now walking up from behind you with drinks in his hand. Derek wanted to desperately kiss you just a little longer but as his eyes met briefly with yours, he knew the whole dating charade was going to become a lot more realistic and there was going to be endless amount of time to kiss you.


ISAAC LAHEY

“Sorry man. You probably won’t have a lot to contribute to the conversation considering you’ve never had a girlfriend,” Stiles teased for what felt like the millionth time as he and Isaac stood by the lockers waiting for the rest of the group to arrive.

Stiles had just asked him for advice for an upcoming date but then took it back quickly saying he probably would just ask Scott about it in the car. A low growl escaped Isaac’s lips as he tried to remind himself that Stiles just wasn’t worth it as the idiot seemed to get off on annoying him. And unfortunately, it was working and sometimes Isaac was just a bit impulsive.

“Well, not one that you know of.”

Stiles’s eyebrow quirked up and a Grinch like smile came across his face, wondering if he was hearing this right.

“A girlfriend in fourth grade doesn’t count,” he reminded and Isaac’s hands balled into fists.

“I’m not supposed to talk about it.” Because it isn’t real, Isaac thought.

Stiles nodded, “oh, yeah right, sure, sure.”

The tone in his voice was enough for Isaac to glance around and see you and Lydia walking in the opposite direction of where he was standing. You and Isaac weren’t close but you got along like a house on fire, regularly working together on pack ‘missions’ or sometimes you just studied together in the library. He’d been asked several times if he was interested in you, all those times he just shrugged as an answer but if anyone was to believe he was dating someone, you would be a good candidate.

“(Y/N),” Isaac said, “(Y/N) and I have been dating.”

Stiles looked as if he’d just discovered gold.

“(Y/N)? You want me to believe that? She’s way out of your league!” and then he was shouting, “(Y/N)! Are you and Isaac dating?”

Lydia and you stopped your walking, Lydia raising her eyebrows at you as you turned around slowly. Everyone in the hallway seemed to go quiet, interested in this little bit of gossip and you met with Isaac’s horrified eyes.

“Uh, yes?” was all you said before continuing on your way, Lydia beginning to smack you excitedly at discovering this information as Stiles turning back to Isaac.

“I can’t believe you weren’t just fucking with me. You should invite her to come bowling with all of us tomorrow night – Lydia will be there so she won’t feel so weird. I seriously can’t believe you landed a girlfriend like that, fuck.”

Isaac couldn’t believe that he’d landed a fake girlfriend like that either.

That night, Isaac found himself climbing into your bedroom and nearly scaring you half to death.

“What the shit?” you hissed, pausing the show you were watching, “first you say we’re dating and now you’re climbing through my window? Did I miss something?”

He smiled sheepishly, brushing off a few sticks that got caught in his sweater while trying to climb up through your window.

“Uh, I know normal people just text but I thought I should just ask you in person. I didn’t really think this through –,”

You cut him off, “yeah, I can see that.”

“But, fuck this is stupid. Stiles was being a dick and I kind of just said you were my girlfriend so he’d leave me alone. I didn’t think he’d actually, uh, ask you about it but do… you wanna go bowling with the group of us tomorrow?”

You’d always had a crush on Isaac. He was one of the first guys to ever really notice you and see you for more than just your looks and you wanted to throw one of your pillows at him and demand he take you out on a proper date because you genuinely liked him. But even though he freaked you out a bit by abruptly climbing through your window at that time of night, you couldn’t resist him.

“Fine. But before you leave, I already answered a bunch of our relationship questions to Lydia so you’ll have to learn them. And you’re paying for my shoes and games for bowling. Oh, and when we fake break up, it’ll be a mutual break up and it can’t be weird.”

You weren’t particularly eager to be out bowling with the group. You got along well with everyone and they were being overly nice to you ever since they found out you and Isaac were ‘dating’. A few times Stiles had said to you ‘really, Isaac?’ but other than that, no one really questioned it. The people in the group who were wolves didn’t even suspect that the two of you were faking the whole ordeal because they could hear how fast your heart rates were when you were around one another, which made everything much easier.

“Lydia said she invited you to come earlier in the week but you said no.” Isaac said, his arm wrapped around you rather lazily as you watched Scott get up for his first go. It felt rather natural for the two of you to be like this, having small touches here and there and sneaking each other little glances. It was comfortable and you had to remind yourself that this was all supposed to be a charade.

“Uh, did I forget to mention that I can’t bowl?”

“You know you’re up next, right?”

You nodded, “yeah, that’s why I’m just a bit nervous.”

Scott got a strike, grinning as he turned to the group who were all rolling their eyes at the unfairness of him having werewolf abilities which were a rather big help in the situation. You wished you had the abilities because you had no idea what you were about to do.

“C’mon,” Isaac helped you to your feet, picking up your ball for you and beginning to walk towards your lane.

“Seriously? What are you doing?”

He handed you the ball, smiling a little and back at the seats the two of you were already earning a few ‘awes’.

“I’ll help you, it’s the least I can do,” he handed you the ball and you held it in the hand you were most comfortable with as he began to help line you up correctly, “aren’t we just relationship goals?”

You laughed rather nervously and Isaac stood behind you, his back pressed against yours and you did your best to concentrate on your bowling but it was proving to be difficult.

“Just move sort of like… this,” he murmured into your ear and as he showed you the throwing movement the second time around, you released the ball and it went flying down the middle of the lane, hitting all the pins except one.

“Oh my god,” a grin came across your face as you turned around to Isaac who couldn’t quite believe it either, “oh my god!”

You flung your arms around his neck, kissing him excitedly and Isaac nearly fell backwards at the sudden action. Eagerly though, he kissed you back, enjoying the feeling and hoping that you’d do this every time you did well in the game.

“How come you don’t do that when I do well?” Scott asked Kira from their seats and she nudged him playfully.

Realising that you had to bowl once more and everyone was watching the two of you with stupid grins on their faces, you shyly pulled away and began to walk back to get another ball. Triumphantly, Isaac walked back to the group who might as well have been clapping for him and Lydia patted his arm.

“It’s about time the two of you got together. (Y/N) always talked about how much she liked you but you just ‘didn’t like her back’. I swear if you break her heart I’ll break you.” She smiled sweetly and Isaac, who had to admit was a little intimidated, smiled back as you successfully knocked down your final pin.

“Not planning on it, Lydia.”


LIAM DUNBAR

“I think I left my lacrosse jersey at your place,” you were startled by your ex-boyfriend who was now standing beside your locker, an annoyed look on his face as if it were you fault that he’d misplaced his belongings.

“You never took any of your lacrosse gear to my house.” You told him coolly, shutting your locker which you weren’t actually done looking in and attempting to walk away from him. To your annoyance, he followed.

“Well, if you see it then tell me,” he said and you rolled your eyes. The two of you had been broken up for 3 months, you were certain you would have come across it by now. “How’re you going anyway? Any new guys in your life?”

The last bit he said with an amused tone, causing you to clutch your bag just a bit tighter. You knew if you said no that he’d proceed to tell you the long list of girls that were in his life now – some of which were in his life while the two of you were dating.

“Yeah, believe it or not I actually have a boyfriend.”

You saw a group of guys up ahead being rather rowdy and spotted Liam Dunbar, the guy you were planning to find just earlier because he’d promised you his research notes from one of your classes.

“Oh, really? Do I know them?”

You knew you should’ve just made up a name of some guy that went to another school but because you just happened to be looking at Liam, you couldn’t help it.

“Liam.”

Your ex looked surprised, “Dunbar? Seriously?”

At that moment, Liam looked up, having been listening in on your conversation and he was just as confused too. You couldn’t believe you picked someone so obvious – and someone that was on the same team as your ex as well. You weren’t going to get away with this.

“Um… yeah?”

Liam sensed your embarrassment and excused himself from the group of friends he was talking to. It was well known that he hated your ex and any opportunity to annoy him was valuable.

“Hey babe!” he said cheerfully as he approached you, trying not to laugh at how red you went as he placed a kiss on your cheek, “everything alright here?”

Your ex, to your relief, stepped away, “everything’s fine, man. (Y/N), if you see the jersey let me know.”

When your ex was safely out of sight, you turned to Liam who had a smug smile on his face.

“How – why?” you stammered, not really sure how you’d just managed that.

“I hate that guy,” he said, “don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone we’re not really dating. We make a cute couple anyway, even if it’s fake.”

“What? Liam, you don’t have to do this. I was just being stupid.”

He shook his head, “he’s just told about 5 people that we’re dating. It’ll be fun! We can get back at that guy all while doing our assignments. It’s a win-win situation.”

And so the fake relationship began. To your surprise, you greatly benefited from the situation. Creepy guys stopped bothering you, if you ever needed to get warm Liam was perfectly fine with you just walking into his arms while he talked with some friends and you ended up making more friends of your own. Some of the seniors he hung around became protective of you and Lydia Martin, of all people, started casually talking to you and giving you advice whenever you needed it. You often forgot that you weren’t really dating because whenever you were around Liam, your heart raced and you got butterflies as if you were actually hanging out with someone you had feelings for. It wasn’t until you sometimes saw your ex around the school who made snide and rude comments about the two of you that you remembered what was going on.

“You’re all sweaty,” you laughed as you and Mason went onto the field after one of the lacrosse games to congratulate Liam. He had a large grin on his face, pulling off his lacrosse helmet and Mason gave him a high five.

“Usually after sports people get sweaty. Weird, isn’t it?” Mason said as you gave Liam a short congratulatory hug, “poor Devenford Prep though… I should probably go and see if Brett’s alright…”

“Yeah, I’m sure you’re really concerned about his feelings,” Liam said sarcastically as Mason ignored him, walking over to the opposite (and losing) team.

“So, how does it feel to win against your old school?”

“Quite amazing, actually,” he paused, “he’s watching again. Doesn’t he have anything better to do?”

You shrugged, knowing exactly who Liam was talking about, “maybe we should give him a show.”

You had been joking – kind of. And Liam knew that but he couldn’t resist. He dropped his helmet, cupping your face and kissing you passionately. You no longer cared about how sweaty he was as you kissed him back, a part of you relieved that you were finally getting to do this.

You pulled away slightly, smiling like an idiot and Liam began to lean in again.

“He’s not even watching anymore,” you told him and he shook his head.

“I just really like kissing you.”

And then you kissed him again.

SCOTT MCCALL

“This is just relationship…ist,” you said angrily as you and Scott sat in the library working on an assignment together. Scott raised an eyebrow, half listening as he was actually working while you were flicking through a free Beacon Hills magazine that you could always find lying around the town in random places.

“I have no idea what you’re going on about.”

You put the magazine down in front of him so he had to actually look away from what he was doing, pointing to the ad on the page.

“Couples get a 50% discount at the Canary. Couples are the ones that can actually afford to be there, single people should be the ones getting the discount.”

Scott pushed the magazine back towards you, amused by your reaction.

“What’s so good about the restaurant, anyway?” he asked and you looked at him in disbelief.

“How – how could you ask that? The food is the best food I’ve ever eaten. It makes you want to cry rainbows it’s so good.”

He snorted, “if you let me do my work I’ll be your fake boyfriend and go with you.”

“You know the way to my heart, McCall.”

You told maybe one person that you and Scott were going for the discounted food and the word got out like Chinese whispers. Soon, everyone ignored the fact you were just going to a restaurant together and were talking about how the two of you were now dating. Both of you, even with Scott’s werewolf senses, were oblivious to the rumours and were sitting at lunch together when Stiles was the first person to sit down with the both of you.

“I can’t believe you two,” he said, you having your mouth full with your lunch but raising an eyebrow at him, “you’re dating and you didn’t even tell me.”

You nearly choked on your food.

“Where’d you hear that?” Scott asked casually, not denying the claim.

“From fucking Lindsay of all people! She wanted to know how long it’d be going on – how come everyone knew before your best friend?!”

You looked at Scott and to your surprise, he shrugged.

“We were going to keep it a secret.”

That was when the rest of the group sat down at the table.

“So it’s true then?” Lydia asked, looking between you and Scott and he took your hand, giving it a small squeeze.

“Yes, we’re dating,” and then he looked at you, “and we’re going to get a discount at the Canary. I want to cry rainbows.”

You knocked at Scott’s front door on Saturday night, ready for your fake date. The two of you had found the whole fake dating thing to be rather amusing, promising each other to keep it up until after the restaurant date and then saying that you would break up afterwards because you realised you were just ‘better off as friends’.

As Scott didn’t have a car you said you’d drop by his place after he was done practicing lacrosse with Stiles and Liam that day. Usually you didn’t mind just going on the back of his motorbike to places but tonight you actually got dressed up a little bit and you couldn’t risk having helmet hair or your makeup getting smudged.

“(Y/N)!” Melissa grinned as she opened the door, “come on in. Scott got home later than expected and he’s nearly ready. God, I’m so glad he finally got the guts to ask you out. He’s always gushing about his feelings for you and how he just doesn’t know what to do about it. He adores you, really.”

“Really, mum?” Scott said, knowing he was too late in defusing the embarrassing situation as he came walking quickly down the stairs.

“I’m your mother, it’s my job to embarrass you,” Melissa teased, “I guess that’s my cue to leave the two of you alone. Have fun – be safe!”

You only managed to yell a goodbye because Scott was pushing you out of the door, eager to get out of the situation.

“Don’t,” he warned, knowing you were ready to mention what had just happened, “you look amazing, by the way.”

“It’s not often I dress up like this so you better appreciate it. So should the discounted food, which I’m highly looking forward to.”

The Canary was filled with couples of all ages and you and Scott fit right in as plates of food were being placed in front of you.

“Are we going to be able to eat this all?” you asked.

“(Y/N), I’m a guy who also happens to be a werewolf. I could finish all of this on my own.”

He had a fair point.

The two of you were complimented several times by waiters for being such a cute couple, you both accepting these compliments graciously but with bright red faces. Ever since Melissa made the comment earlier about the two of you, you couldn’t help but wonder if she was joking because you’d always thought it was just you that liked him.

“What is it?” Scott asked, noticing your wondering expression. You gave a small shrug, feeling awfully shy which you weren’t usually like around him.

“Do you really gush about having feelings for me?”

This time, he was the shy one. Scott poked at his food, his cheeks reddening which they had been on and off throughout the night.

“I wouldn’t say I gushed about it,” he finally admitted, “but I do talk about liking you a bit.”

STILES STILINSKI

Saturday night had been a blur. The last memory you had was agreeing to do shots with Stiles and the next day you woke up safely tucked in bed (thanks to Scott) just before you launched yourself to the toilet to begin your day of being hungover. You felt like shit. And even on Monday morning as you walked into school you had a faint throbbing in your head and you were drinking more water when Stiles arrived.

“I’m never drinking alcohol again,” was the first thing you said to him, noticing he looked a similar way to you.

“Tell me about it,” he agreed, “but we say that all the time.”

You leaned against his side, waiting for the others to arrive when you got your first ‘congratulations’ from someone. Neither of you were sure what the person was congratulating you on but you thanked them anyway. Then it happened again when a girl from your English class walked past, lifting her hand to high five you.

“I heard about Saturday! It’s about time you two got together!” she said excitedly before walking into school.

“Do you have any idea what’s going on?” you asked, confused as to what you just witnessed as Stiles shook his head.

“I spent yesterday in the toilet. I didn’t even turn my phone on because the brightness made me sick.”

You waited a little longer and then Stiles suddenly perked up.

“Dude, there’s Theo. I saw him at the party on Saturday with that guy – I think he’s trying to get him to join his weird ass pack,” Stiles tried to tell you quietly, hoping that Theo was listening in.

“Or he could be into guys?”

“Well, you two were certainly a sight for sore eyes,” Kira suddenly said, appearing beside the two of you and making you jump. When she noticed the confused, she elaborated. “On Saturday, I mean. I didn’t know that getting the two of you together meant getting you drunk and having you confess your love to one another but man, it worked. That was gross.”

You and Stiles nearly had a heart attack. Quickly, you stepped away from one another, sharing a confused stare just as the bell went. Kira looked between the two of you but didn’t say anything, leaving you two alone as she entered the school on her own. Rather than say anything, you and Stiles went your separate ways.

During second period, your phone buzzed in your pocket. You glanced at the message from Stiles which simply read to meet him at your spot. Your teacher was reluctant to let you leave but when you did, you nearly sprinted to the spot under the third floor corridor staircase where Stiles was waiting clearly agitated. It seems you weren’t the only one having people come up to you and congratulate you on officially dating Stiles and that many people saw your proclamation of love which neither of you can remember.

“Do you remember?” you began but Stiles suddenly pulled you to him, putting a hand over your mouth. You were confused, only to hear Theo’s voice echoing the corridor and you got the idea. You tried to listen in with him but Theo stopped talking and soon you heard footsteps coming towards where the two of you were hiding.

Stiles swiftly kissed you, causing you to freeze up. You weren’t sure whether to pull away or to kiss him back, only to understand what he was doing when Theo finally stopped in front of the two of you.

“Whoa, Theo!” Stiles pulled away, “can’t a couple just have a few moments of peace?”

Theo’s eyebrows furrowed, “so the rumours are true.”

“The rumours? Didn’t you see us at the party?” Stiles wrapped his arm around you and you smiled sheepishly. Your teacher was gonna be pissed at how late you were going to be.

“Must’ve left by then.”

“With your guy friend?” you blurted out and Stiles tried to stifle a laugh. Theo decided it was best to ignore you – which it was – and began to walk back to class that he was obviously avoiding as well.

You looked at Stiles with a questioning expression but he shook his head, “we’ll talk about this later.”

You never talked about it later but you had a silent agreement to continue the fake dating. Both of you watched one too many movies and had the idea that if you did the couple getting caught making out when you were actually searching into something you shouldn’t be then it was a win-win deal. You were just too nosy.

“We’re basically detectives,” Stiles said, the two of you hidden in a corner of a club watching a group of suspected chimeras. The two of you had been awfully touchy the past few days, both of you trying to convince yourselves it was all just a charade but it wasn’t. If you were able to convince your friends that you were dating, the people you were closest to, then it wasn’t really fake.

“Do you wanna go home and watch Star Wars?” you yelled over the music and Stiles leaned his forehead against yours.

“You are perfect for me.” He said, grabbing your and leading you out of the club. Your heart was racing and even when you got to the car, Stiles continued to hold your hand on the drive back to his place.


“For our detective work, right?” you said jokingly to him when he pulled into the driveway, Stiles walking quickly around to your side of the car to open the door for you.

Stiles leaned in and kissed you, “this has never been about the detective work.”

THEO RAEKEN

“Leave me alone,” you said for the third time to a guy that hadn’t stopped trying to chat you up during the last big lacrosse game. You looked around, trying to find someone you knew to go to for help but the crowds of people all looked the same.

“Why? You got a boyfriend?”

“Why should that matter? Leave me alone.”

You tried to remember how to throw a punch – you even considered making a scene by yelling loudly for the creep to get away from you. But your rescuer stepped out of the shadows, wrapping their arm around you and you nearly punched them in the face until you saw who it was.

“This guy bothering you, babe?” Theo Raeken said sternly and the guy put his hands in the air.

“Hey! No problem here, Raeken!”

“Really?” Theo stepped towards him, “because you better not be bothering my girlfriend.”

Despite how scared you were, your heart was filling with butterflies for all the wrong reasons. You had Theo in a few of your classes and god, you found him insanely attractive. He was always sweet towards you and now you were never going to be able to thank him enough.

“I’m not! I was just leaving, I swear!”

You’d never seen someone move so quickly.

When he disappeared into the crowd, Theo turned to you and gave you the most charming smile. You knew about his powers and was fully aware that he could probably smell your lust and nervousness.

“Don’t mention it,” he winked before disappearing as well and you couldn’t help but smile like an idiot.

The next week you were sitting in the library on your own when Theo sat down beside you again, putting his arm around you. Your heart got caught in your throat as you glanced up at him, Theo seeming very comfortable and casual with the situation.

“Didn’t you hear?” he said with an amused tone, “everyone thinks we’re actually dating. I want to make sure they continue to think that so those guys will leave you alone.”

“What guys?”

“Over there. They’ve been saying some disgusting things about you and either I beat the shit out of them or they just get too freaked out to do anything in the first place,” he paused, “you’re cute when you’re nervous.”

You ignored him, “so, what? You’re fake dating me now?”

“Do you mind? I think it’d be fun.”

Theo took your answer as a yes when you blushed and look hastily away.

The next few weeks went past in a blur. It all started out as a bit of fun and eventually you were comfortable enough with Theo to get a bit into it as well. He never did anything beyond holding your hand or wrapping his arms around you but soon you were beginning to realise you wanted more – and so did Theo. He tried to convince himself that he was just doing this as a nice gesture because he’d thought you were vulnerable but he came to realise that you were stronger than even he was. You impressed him and Theo found himself lying in bed at night wishing you were there and he got excited whenever he knew you were nearby.

It was another big lacrosse game and Theo was finishing up some personal business when he saw a guy attempting to take the seat that Theo had originally be sitting in and chat you up. He clenched his teeth, storming towards you and his heart jumped when you made eye contact and you smiled at him.

“Hey babe,” Theo said, leaning down to where you were sitting, cupping your cheek and kissing you hard on the lips. You froze up but kissed him back, the guy that had been attempting to hit on you moving far away as possible.

“Get a room!” someone yelled and Theo moved away, brushing his thumb against your cheek.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that.”

Something about Fate

Dean decides to go to a new psychic in town - just for the hell of it, of course - with his roommate Castiel, and doesn’t get the reading he was expecting.

~5.2k

AO3

“Hey, Cas, have you ever been to a psychic?”

Dean watched as Castiel looked up from his book with his eyebrows pinched together.

“No.” A pause. “Why do you ask?”

Dean shrugged.

“Garth texted me. Apparently there’s one in town that he went to yesterday and he’s obsessed. He said she really knows her stuff.”

Castiel raised an eyebrow before returning his attention to the textbook he had sprawled across their kitchen counter, so he could eat and study at the same time - a sight that was not all that uncommon in their apartment.

“Psychics don’t exists, Dean,” he said, matter-of-factly, as he turned the page. “People who claim to be psychic are scammers hoping to draw in the desperate or the gullible. Garth is the latter, I’m afraid.”

“Hey, he’s not -”

“Remember when Gabriel told him that stop signs with a white rim around them were optional?”

Dean rolled his eyes and pulled out a stool on the opposite side of the counter from his roommate.

“Duh, Cas. I know that they aren’t legit. Everyone does. But at the very least they’re supposed to be super good at reading people and then you essentially pay them to tell you what their first impression of you is.”

A small smile crept its way across Castiel’s face.

“I could tell you that for free, you know.”

Dean flipped him off as he got up and pulled out an apple from the refrigerator, not even bothering to look back as he did so.

“Whatever. I think it could be kind of cool.”

“Then by all means…” Castiel wrote something down in a notepad and flipped to the next page. “I think you should do it. I have free time tomorrow if you’d like to find this psychic then.”

Dean tossed the apple between his hands.

“You’d come with me?”

“Of course. I would never miss the opportunity to witness someone predicting your death.”

Castiel laughed as Dean flipped him off again.

Keep reading

My Best Friend

AU!College Roommates. As your best friend, Bucky was determined to look out for you and if that meant offering you a place to stay indefinitely, so be it. 


Pairing: Tol!Bucky Barnes x Smol!Reader
Warnings: Some profanity. Also. We’re all fucked.
Author’s Note: gUYS PREPARE TO GET WRECKED. But not with this chapter.

It was just a routine walk home with Bucky when you admitted you’ve been struggling to pay your rent since your former employer shut down his sandwich shop a few weeks ago. 

He had blanched and immediately prepared a mental list of questions and options to explore, but your enthusiastic grin made the words die in his throat.

How could you look so damned innocent and sweet with just one smile?

“I found a nightclub to work at, and they even offered to hire me right then and there at the bar! I won’t have to worry anymore!” you cheered, happily placing your soft hands over your heart. “Isn’t that exciting?”

Bucky’s eyebrow twitched, and his jaw clicked at the thought of you serving drunken idiots with nothing but a counter to protect you. His languid stride came to a halt and he turned to gaze at you.

What were you thinking?

You were the most troublesome, innocent, caring, attractive woman he knew and you wanted to work at a nightclub bar? Where men would definitely try and do anything to attain your attention?

No. Hell no. Over his dead fucking body.

You slowed to stand beside your best friend.

The dark, rare sardonic look he bestowed on you made you flinch, and your grin slipped as you tilted your chin down and looked away.

“…is t-there something wrong?” you whispered quietly, fiddling with the frayed end of your navy blue shirt. There must be, because you rarely ever inspired the look he was drilling into the side of your face in that very tense moment.

“Yes,” he muttered grumpily. “There is something very wrong with you possibly working at a bar, in a nightclub.”

“I also got a job offer at a pub,” you commented, finally meeting his frustrated expression with your own confused one. Maybe a pub would be a better choice?

“That’s almost the same thing,” he bit out through gritted teeth. “And they’re not places you belong.”

You frowned and your brows knitted together. “But it’s not the same…and what do you mean…?”

Gah! See? No self-preservation whatsoever, you couldn’t even piece together why he was so concerned in the first place.

He groaned, and rubbed the back of his ear in agitation. “Look, can’t you find somewhere else? A department store? A vintage shop, anything but a bar?”

You flushed, and Bucky had to will himself to keep breathing amidst the beauty of it.

You were going to kill him. You were absolutely going to be the death of him and he didn’t even think he’d mind as long as it was caused by that very look.

“I could work at a strip club,” you murmured thoughtfully. 

Bucky sobered, and he almost choked on his spit. You weren’t joking. 

You giggled, and sheepishly scratched the back of your wrist. “I mean…not like that, I could be a janitor or something.” 

The sour way he pursed his lips and scrunched his nose hinted that you shouldn’t elaborate any further or even consider it as an option.

Your embarrassed blush extended to your chest and he patiently waited for you to spill whatever naive thought you were entertaining in your mind.

“…I can’t find any of other place, they’re either not hiring…or I’m not good enough…” you mumbled.

If he wasn’t annoyed before, he certainly was now. The anger burning through his veins was absolutely maddening and he hated that the heavy feeling was directed toward you.

“You’re the best person I know,” he declared, grabbing your hand. Your eyes widened, startled by the sudden movement and the conviction behind his words.

“They’re the ones who aren’t good enough, and they don’t deserve you.”

“I..I…” damn you were stuttering again. Leave it to Bucky to just go and throw out compliments in such a matter of fact manner. “T-thank you…” 

“I’m your best friend, and best friends look out for each other’s best interests, and I don’t think you working at any these places would be good for either of us - don’t look at me like that - it would suck for me too because I’d have to be there glaring at men and chasing them away with sticks.”

You laughed, imagining your grumpy best friend waving around a giant stick and loudly threatening anyone that dared look at you pervertedly. 

“That’s not very nice, Bucky,” you chided, glancing down at your joined hands. 

Then your eyes narrowed and you shrugged daintily, appearing genuinely perplexed. “I don’t think anyone would really stare at me, I’m not that pretty.”

“Are you kidding?” he asked incredulously. “You’re stunning.”

There he goes spewing that nonsense again. You lifted your free hand to harshly jab your index finger on his chin, and wrinkled your nose in displeasure. 

“Stop saying stuff like that.”

Despite the painful poke, he sighed wistfully. You were just too cute sometimes, even when you’re exasperated. “I only speak the truth.”

Your cheeks warmed all over again, and you dug your finger harder into his flesh. He grunted and swatted your hand away. “Please don’t choose any these places, it would break my heart.”

He rubbed your knuckles with his thumbs, and when you didn’t immediately respond he glanced down to see you on the verge of tears, head bowed in shame.

 You didn’t want to hurt him, and nothing upset you more than the idea of doing so.

Shocked, he blinked a few times, before registering that there were indeed tears rolling down your cheeks. “N-no don’t cry!” he floundered for a moment before pulling you toward him. 

Within moments his body became a protective shield hiding you away from curious bystanders as you clutched his cotton shirt and softly cried into his chest.

“I won’t be able to pay my rent if I don’t take any of these offers,” you wailed, feeling conflicted. “Everyone lives with their parents or they don’t have space, I don’t have anywhere to go!” 

Your words were muffled, but he understood them anyway and he scowled as he looked out into the distance.

With tuition, rent, and no other financial support coming in other than what you produced yourself he could see why you were so desperate. A lot of people were in your predicament…but…you were his best friend and you didn’t deserve this, or being limited to working at questionable establishments.

He wished you said something sooner, rather than plastering a serene smile on your face everyday. He would have never known the extent of your struggle had you not been ecstatic enough to tell him about the nightclub.

He sighed, and stroked your hair gently a few times, before tracing soothing patterns on your back. He let you sob until the noise was nothing more than periodic hiccups, and then he gently pried you off and held you at arms length.

“You can stay with me for however long you need to, don’t worry about money, rent, food or whatever else.”

Your eyes watered again and you shook your head firmly. “I can’t just..I can’t accept all that!”

Bucky frowned. Why the hell not? “It’s just me, you can have my room, we’ll make it work.”

You looked uncertain, and downright scandalized. 

“But…”

He didn’t want to have to pull the friendship card, but you were being so selflessly stubborn. “You’d do the same for me.”

Your eyes widened, mouth parting in shock, because he’s right. You grudgingly realize what he’s getting at and that he was giving you a way out…but still.

You’re going to protest, and he tiredly closed his eyes. 

“Trust me…I’d rather have you staying with me, than knowing you’re struggling to balance school and paying rent by working at a grungy club…pub…whatever, just please…” 

The raw worry on his face and the coiled tension of his body made you feel guilty. You didn’t want to be a bother, but saying no would probably be even more upsetting for you both. 

And maybe…just maybe this was a chance to finally catch up on your studies with financial worries?

It was a chance you sorely needed. You bit your lip and nibbled on it for an agonizing five minutes.

Finally you nodded. “O-okay,” you clasped one hand over your heart and wiped the edges of your eyes with your forearm. “I promise I’ll repay you somehow!”

You won’t.

He’d never let you, but you didn’t need to know that, it was difficult convincing you to accept his help as it was.

He gave you a noncommittal smile, silently basking in the relief your answer brought him. 

“We’ll worry about that some other time.” He glanced at the darkening sky. “Come on, we’ll get something to eat, and figure out the rest of the logistics.”

He held out his elbow for you like he always did, and your bottom lip trembled as you looped your arm through his. Bucky truly was the best.

You were lucky to have him, and as you both strolled across the street, you mumbled out a tiny, barely audible, ‘Thank you.’


Tbc.  

GUYS ARE YOU FUCKING EXCITED BECAUSE I AM HOLY MOLY.

victarionsrighthand  asked:

What do you think about Sansa's crush on Loras? Do you think it means something that no matter how much she seems to grow as a character she still holds a crush over some pretty knight that never really seemed to care about her and she still imagines him when she kisses people (even if her thoughts get directed back to sandor)

Well… Loras is a very safe crush.

Loras plays the role for Sansa that teen heartthrobs do for many adolescent girls, a safe exploration of their growing sexuality.

The idolization of teen idols typically begins in early adolescence when girls start to become interested in romance and dating and more aware of social norms which suggest that they should have romantic feelings for someone of the opposite sex (Simon, Eder, & Evans, 1992). Rather than dating in real life, developing a crush on a teen idol is a way for girls to acknowledge their emerging sexual feelings in a safe, non-threatening way (Engle & Kasser, 2005). Because teen boys are viewed by girls as only interested in sex (McRobbie, 1991), teen idols are a preferable option. Further, they often project a feminine form of masculinity that is sexually non-threatening and thus accessible to young girls (Engle &: Kasser, 2005; Karniol, 2001; McRobbie, 1991; Sweeney, 1994).

Bitten by Twilight: Youth Culture, Media, & the Vampire Franchise

One of the most popular ways people like to hate teenage girls is to complain about their “insane” crushes on boy band members. Now, let me fucking tell you something: those big dumb crushes are what helps a teenage girl develop her sexuality in a safe environment that she can control. In her world, she can listen to One Direction and hear all these songs about how great she is, and how much these cute non-threatening boys want to make her feel special. Why is this so important? Because no one is pushing them. There’s no fourteen year old boy shoving his clammy hands down your shirt without your consent. These fantasy boys are not convincing a girl to send naked pictures, only to show all their friends and call her a slut. In the fantasy land of boy bands, the girl has all the power. And we need to stop judging them for wanting to escape into that.

–Meghan Harper, “Why I Fucking Love Teenage Girls”

ASOIAF is a medieval-style world, so it of course doesn’t have pop idols and movie stars, but it does have tournaments and tourney champions, who play that role for the adolescent girls of Westeros. (And the boys, too. Consider Bran’s idolization of knights, especially the Kingsguard.) And Loras Tyrell is not just one of the best upcoming stars of the tourney scene, but he’s so dreamy handsome, young, and from one of the best families of Westeros. (Even Robert Baratheon crushes on him, in a manly way.)

Now, the fact that Loras is actually gay (as are so many teen heartthrobs - George Michael, we miss you) makes him even safer, whether Sansa consciously realizes it or not. This is all the more important, since because of the close circles of Westeros aristocracy, Sansa Stark has far more of a chance of personally interacting with Loras Tyrell than your typical teenage girl has with her most beloved Bieber or Zayn.

So when Sansa actually has the opportunity to meet Loras, is even led to believe she might marry him… the expression of her sexuality, while very real, is also very safe:

The sight of Ser Loras Tyrell standing on her threshold made Sansa’s heart beat a little faster.

Sansa was finding it hard to walk and talk and think all at the same time, with Ser Loras touching her arm.

I am talking to him, and he’s touching me, he’s holding my arm and touching me.

Desperately she tried to think of something clever and charming to say to him, but her wits had deserted her. She almost told him how beautiful he was, until she remembered that she’d already done that.

Ser Loras in white silk, so pure, innocent, beautiful. The dimples at the corner of his mouth when he smiled. The sweetness of his laugh, the warmth of his hand. She could only imagine what it would be like to pull up his tunic and caress the smooth skin underneath, to stand on her toes and kiss him, to run her fingers through those thick brown curls and drown in his deep brown eyes. A flush crept up her neck.

–ASOS, Sansa I

Or, for a visual representation:

Now, the trouble (or not?) is that this safe crush of Sansa’s is no longer something she can rely on. Whether it’s because of her aging into womanhood, or because of her actual experiences with sexuality – the dark masculine danger of Sandor Clegane, her marriage to Tyrion Lannister (including seeing him nude and sleeping next to him in bed for weeks), the explicit rape threats of Joffrey Baratheon and Marillion, the disturbing attentions and unfatherly kisses of Petyr Baelish – when she wishes to escape into her formerly favorite safe fantasy of Loras Tyrell, it twists away from her into something else:

Before she could summon the servants, however, Sweetrobin threw his skinny arms around her and kissed her. It was a little boy’s kiss, and clumsy. Everything Robert Arryn did was clumsy. If I close my eyes I can pretend he is the Knight of Flowers. Ser Loras had given Sansa Stark a red rose once, but he had never kissed her… and no Tyrell would ever kiss Alayne Stone. Pretty as she was, she had been born on the wrong side of the blanket.
As the boy’s lips touched her own she found herself thinking of another kiss. She could still remember how it felt, when his cruel mouth pressed down on her own. He had come to Sansa in the darkness as green fire filled the sky. He took a song and a kiss, and left me nothing but a bloody cloak.

–AFFC, Alayne II

Note that there are many analyses of “the unkiss” (link 1, link 2), Sansa’s imagined memory of being kissed by Sandor the night of the Blackwater, but what many point out is that it is again an attempt by Sansa of a safe fantasy, a subconscious attempt to control and understand and romanticize a frightening sexually-charged situation. It’s just several octaves away from her non-threatening fantasies of kissing and touching the “beautiful” Loras.

And though you say Sansa still holds this crush, please note that Loras is only mentioned in Sansa’s narrative once in AFFC (that scene above), where she recognizes that Loras’s attentions were nothing real, no kisses, just a rose. Also, when she thinks about the men who helped her in King’s Landing, Loras is not one of them. Furthermore, he’s not mentioned at all in her TWOW preview chapter – which, considering it focuses on an upcoming tourney and the young knights who wish to be its champions, should be a perfect occasion for the pretty knight Loras to stroll through Sansa’s head, and yet he does not.

So I would say that Sansa’s adolescent crush on Loras is something perfectly understandable… and also something she has outgrown. I hope that helps!

the houses

 (a rather abstract description of the houses, what they could look like and things they contain)

first house: You open a giant, dark wooden door. The knob is hot as you touch it but you don’t flinch and enter a even hotter room, you immediately start sweating. The air is burning and the windows are wide open. Bright light is shining trough some kind of living room, full of possessions of the creature living there. You look around and already know who must be the owner. Still,you ask who lives there and the strong Aries enters the room, his aura is radiant, vibrant, lively, present. “I am life”, he speaks clearly. “I am energy, physical appearance,the self, the will and the doing. I show you how you approach the world and open yourself to it.” 

second house: This door is made out of silver, with blue ornaments. It looks beautiful and must be of high value. With a ‘click’ the door opens, but it really is heavy, so you got to put more effort into the act of opening it. The room is rather minimalist, but some of the furniture and paintings must be old and very expensive. The Taurus stands in front of the high windows and looks out of it, the eyes tired, even a bit melancholic. “Is there something I can do for you?”, the Taurus asked, the voice deep and kind of magnetic. “I want to know who you are”, you ask slowly. The Taurus blinks slowly and answers: “I am development, self worth and win and loss, materialistic and emotional safety, setting limits and fighting for protection.” 

third house: As you come closer to the third door you can hear people speaking. Or at least someone who is discussing something with someone. Voices come and voices go, you are wondering how many people might be in there? The door looks asymmetrical and as you enter the room you are not sure if it’s an office or plainly a full room. As you look around you see that there are radios everywhere, from old to new and each of them is turned on. So that must be the voices. Notes over notes are gathered on the floor and walls, between them some  pictures pinned to the wall of different people. Right in the middle is the Gemini, both of them talking in a heat with a coffee in the right and a pencil in the left hand, constantly taking notes. “So, you must be..?”
“The Gemini!”, one answers excited. The other one continues, more thoughtful: “We are communication, the image, the way of thinking, and -”
“..the ability to adjust, the close environment, small adventures, our neighbors as well as-” 
“Siblings!”, the other one finishes the sentence and both of them laugh, clear as a bell.

fourth house: You hold on before opening this door. It’s made out of colored, dark blue wood, the knob is glowing and the night sky is painted on the dark background. As you open the door everything seems quiet, but you hear someone humming a lullaby, quietly. The cancer sits in the middle of the darkened room, old photo albums, books and letters are gathered around her and she looks like she would fall asleep in any second. You see that this is a bedroom, filled with belongings of her and you hear the sound of the waves outside somewhere from the opened window. As you sit quietly next to her and watch her looking through the photos, she smiles softly before answering your unspoken question: “You know what I am? I am emotions and the feeling of true belonging. I am the roots of your inner being, family and home, your psychological identification, the connection of the environment and private life. I am the intimacy, age and the unconsciousness.”

fifth house: This door is not wooden. It is made out of the finest marble you could find here on earth. The knob is long and golden, a Latin phrase is written on the shimmering marble, it says ‘Ab imo pectore‘, from the bottom of my heart. You can hear music playing loudly and with an easy sweep you open the giant. You enter an atelier, the light is glowing golden and the Leo dances in the middle of it. Everything look rather antique, but with such grace and vividness, you cannot stop yourself from smiling. The sudden laugh of the Leo sounds like an imitating roar and he tip toes to his lover on the giant bed next to the window. “You are even more beautiful than my paintings, I could never capture your beauty.” As his lover smiles and takes his hands, they suddenly point in your direction and the Leo turns around, his thick hair shining in the light. “What do you want, stranger?” You answer honestly and the Leo laughs again as you want to know who he is. “I am art, your passions, creativity and individuality. The will for live, joy, children, the partner, sexuality, the wish for admiration and appreciation. “

sixth house: This door seems rather modest, but pretty as well. It seems to be quiet smaller than the rest of the doors you have seen so far. It has small little patterns carved in it. You see a note in the middle of it, it’s telling you to knock before opening and so you do as it told you. “Yes, you may come in.” You enter a cold, neatly tidied up working room, the lights are dimmed but the creature - the Virgo - in front of you is uptight, being busy doing some work - whatever it might be - but still keep a gentle smile on the lips. “Sorry, I’m in a hurry, please don’t mind the mess.” Mess she says, but you cannot even see a bit of dust on the book shelf. “Please, sit down, do you want something to drink? I cannot let you stay for a long time, but I already know what you might want to know, if you don’t mind answering you question.” Surprised you nod. “I a, work and service, as you can see. I am duty, social integration, physic healthiness, one ones limits and the limit of the others. the balance between my own needs and the ones of the environment.”

seventh house: This door is already open. You are surprised and carefully look into the room. There is a comfortable looking bedroom, its furniture is held in warm colors, there is much light shining inside since the windows are very high and there are no curtains. The Libra is walking directly towards you, a soft smile on the lips and a glass of water in the other hand. “Hey, how are you? Just passing by?” You nod and ask if you are allowed to sit down on the sofa, Libra nods and sits down with you. “Sorry, I am just, ahm-” He pauses as he notes down something in a giant book with a dark, cracked leather binding.” You blink  a few times before asking what kind of book Libra is carrying with him. “Oh this? Sometimes I need to note everything down, every person that touched me, I’ve met, you know. You learn so much by being in touch with others.” You nod, it seems right what he says. “You know, I am the development of ones own identity by meeting others. Relationships to others, the You, mental interest, contacts and meetings, harmony, joy and beauty. The partner, the person opposite as my projection surface, cooperation, socialization, coming together and working together.”

eight house: This door seems made out of stone. You are struggling to open it. Are you allowed to open it? The atmosphere is tense and you hear a vibrant sound somewhere. Next to you  in the hallway is a small window, which you look out of. There is the deep, blackness of the night sky, golden stars are adorning it, among them the white, glowing, milky moon, who whispers sweet promises and goodbyes to you. Suddenly the stone door is opening, you jump in shook and your heartbeat raises as you see red glowing eyes watching you from the dark behind it. “Hello. What do you want”, a deep, echoing voice asks you. Your hands are shaking, you are frightened and at the same time deeply hypnotized. “You are Scorpio, right?” The eyes keep on starring. “I am.” You swallow and ask if you may enter. “I am the darkness that you desire, the occult, the interest, I am passion, desire, transformation, the taboo, the darker side and death. Are you sure you want to come in?” You do not hesitate, but nod instantly. “Hmpf.” A pale hand grabs yours, the skin tone seems too pale for something living, but indeed the hand is warm and you feel oddly safe. 

ninth house: You had to climb a long spiral staircase in order to get to this room. Exhausted you breath desperately for air before realizing that you are in a giant tower. This door is slightly opened and you hear music faintly whispering in your ear. “Sorry?”, you ask as you see the Sagittarius twirling around in the room, a couple of maps in the hand. The room is full of possessions, pictures, books, paintings and different furniture from all over the world. Suddenly the Sagittarius stops, his brown eyes vividly laying on you. “Oh hi, didn’t see you there”, he says as he lays down the old maps. You remark the exciting and interesting looking room, it smells like jasmine in here. “You are the urge for more and exploration?”, you ask and the Sagittarius smiles. “I am not only that. I am your conscious mind, always growing, always developing, asking for the meaning of life. I am wanting to expand one’ philosophy, higher norms and values, abstract way of thinking, education and different cultures, explorations and the way of understanding. I am your ideal, your religious and spiritual life.”

tenth house: You knocked almost three times but no one seems to open this door. You are wondering what might happened to the person inside it. You try pushing it as you hear a stricter, cold voice: “Try ringing the bell instead.” It came out of the intercom. “Sorry, I-” 
“It’s alright, I don’t mind. Come in.” The door opens from its own and you are intimidated by the big entry. A woman with a suitcase and silky trouser suit walks towards you, the sound of her shoes echoing from the walls. “Hi, I am Capricorn, Excuse me, but I do not like this knocking, there is a bell for a reason.” You look into her grey eyes and even though her facial expressions seems hard you know she is gentle. You apologize but she laughs it off. “I have a meeting at six, and I know what you want - Virgo already called me -, so I am explaining everything now - oh, here take a seat, coffee and biscuits are here on the table.” You do as she said but are somehow a  bit too nervous to eat. “I am the development and realization of ones goals in life or even destiny. I am the public, ones image, law, order and authority. Honor, responsibility, appeal and the position you take in society.”

eleventh house: “Hi, here do I live”, the shield hanging on the door says. Sadly it does not say who “I” is. You ring the door bell and the bell ringing sounds differently than usual. It is longer and you have never heard this kind of melody as a door bell before. “Come in”, someone says quietly. The light is dimmed, and you see Aquarius in front of his Laptop on his bed. “Sorry, had no time tying up, I am trying to connect to this live broadcast of the speech from this dude here, he’s responsible for this rather extreme party and - ah, it’s not working, damn it.” He closes the Laptop and offers you a seat on his bed. “Nice to meet you, want some coffee?” He offers you a cup but takes it back immediately. “Sorry, paint water in there, not coffee, ha. Nice jacket, you come here often?” You shake your head and smile. He is funny and unusual, you like it. “Actually, I wanted to know who..” 
“I am? Well, I am the development of your goals regarding society. The zeitgeist, friends, communities, reforms, ambitions and change. Emancipation, patronage, rebellion, humanitarian and social ideals, also hopes and desires. 

twelfth house: The last door. Your journey was long but everything has an end and you know that the person behind this door knows this feeling too well - that the circle is closing, ending and repeats itself afterwards. You open the door, knowing you do not have to knock. You step into radiant, glowing, crystal blue water. The water is flowing in circles and Pisces is standing there, the softest smile on the lips, eyes so warm and understanding, the head lightly tilted. You are enchanted by the tingling sensation of the water and as you grab Pisces hands, they are warm and soft. “Do not be afraid. I am endless devotion. Endless devotion without losing ground underneath you feet. I am the other meta-level. Delusional, transparent, drawn to fleeing from fears, but always love deep inside. Come, you can visit the other realm with me now.”

Understanding Elizabeth Midford

So. I don’t usually involve myself in petty fandom feuds but HOLY. SHIT. This is pissing me off. We’ve gone through 100+ chapters and people STILL don’t understand Lizzy’s character? They manage to rationalize Kuroshitsuji enough that they give Sebastian feelings even though he’s a hungry demon who made a pact with a 10 year old boy because he sensed his soul was broken, desperate, and malleable to more further corruption. They manage to do all this for a DEMON but can’t find it in their hearts to apply that analytical mindset to a darling 14 year old girl whose human emotions drive her every decision?

“She’s selfish! She only wants to make Ciel smile so things can go back to the way they were!”

“She doesn’t understand him! She’s always trying to change him, that bitch!”

“She’s so ANNOYING. Like, her voice!”

“Oh my god, did you see her standing there in the third panel? Like who does that! RUDE.”

So in an attempt to bring some basic level of cognition into these…“arguments” I’m going to go through them one by one and you can disagree if you like. But please refrain from using derogatory terms, unsubstantiated arguments, and referrals to “proofs” that are nothing more than blog posts made from those who wish to paint Kuroshitsuji in terms more favorable to them and whatever else they ship. 


1. “She’s selfish! She only wants to make Ciel smile so things can go back to the way they were!”

Elizabeth Midford is, by far, the LEAST selfish person in the whole damn manga. This girl spent most of her childhood loathing the physical strength she possessed because the person she loved didn’t like it. She chose to shoulder her anguish by HERSELF because she didn’t want to burden Ciel (or her brother or her mother or her father) with her personal worries.

Lizzy is also incredibly aware that things can NEVER go back to the way they were. She expresses this concern to Sebastian when she admits that she wishes Ciel would talk to her more and that the only reason she overdoes her cuteness is because she wants to see Ciel smile. Why are comedians so outlandish and over-the-top? Because they want to see their audience laugh. Lizzy took that mindset and applied it to her goal of cheering Ciel up. Furthermore, the Easter egg chapter proved ONCE AND FOR ALL that Lizzy is perfectly aware of the change that’s occurred within Ciel—that he’s no longer the happy, smiling boy of years past.

Lizzy KNEW Ciel didn’t remember why the egg was nostalgic and if she was really selfish, she would’ve thrown a fit—had a full on temper tantrum then and there but instead, what does she do? She outwits the game master himself. Lizzy sets up an Easter egg hunt that she made up completely off the cuff, wears a happy smile throughout the entire event, and when Ciel hands her the egg what does Lizzy do? She laughs and wishes that the egg would bring CIEL lots of happiness. HOW IS SHE SELFISH? HOW. Selfish would be throwing a tantrum because Ciel didn’t remember the way things used to be. Selfish would be bringing up the past EVERY FRIGGIN SECOND. Selfish would be forcing Ciel to comply to the shared etiquette of their past.

Instead, Lizzy is SELFLESS. Instead of throwing a tantrum, Lizzy wishes Ciel happiness. Instead of bringing up the past, Lizzy tries to ignore it because she knows it makes Ciel uncomfortable—that’s why she’s never asked him about “that month” even though she desperately wants to know what’s happened to the boy she loves. And instead of forcing Ciel to behave the way he used to (sweet, sympathetic, loving), Lizzy is learning to accept him for who he is now—how many times has Ciel ignored her? How many times has Ciel left the country without telling her? How many times has Ciel purposely hidden things from Lizzy and then disregarded her concern with a wave of his hand? Lizzy is learning to accept this new Ciel—this closed off, distant Ciel because she KNOWS something terrible must have happened to him. Because instead of crying and whining like she did at the beginning of Black Butler when Ciel refused to take off his ring, Lizzy has learned to ACCEPT. And that, my dears, is called character development—something Ciel hasn’t undergone since the beginning of this manga.


2. “She doesn’t understand him! She’s always trying to change him, that bitch!”

There is NOTHING about Ciel that Lizzy is trying to change. If anything, it’s Sebastian who’s always prodding and provoking Ciel to become darker—more cruel, less empathetic, and more focused on getting his revenge. She threw a party for Ciel at the beginning of the manga because she thought that might make him smile—fun colors, fine music, seeing Bard and Finny crossdressing…heck, even Ciel took a page from Lizzy’s book when he dressed the F5! It probably took Lizzy HOURS to choose Ciel’s outfit, decorate the mansion, coordinate the whole event and it probably hurt like hell to see Ciel dismiss all her hard work so casually.

As a reader, it’s easy for us to say “HELLO. Doesn’t she know? He was abused and tortured by the cultists! He made a deal with the devil to escape that wretched place, how could this dumb broad think a simple party would cheer him up?!”

And the answer is…Lizzy has NO IDEA what happened to Ciel. (Hindsight is a gift, ain’t it?) She has no idea that he became so desperate to escape the cult that he sold his soul to a starving demon. Lizzy is does not know what Ciel went through and this boy is doing his damnedest to make sure Lizzy never knows. Because he wants to keep her pure, ignorant, and encased in light.

People always point to the party chapter as Lizzy trying to “change” Ciel but all she wanted was to put a smile on his face. She even admits that she overdoes it at times but everything she’s done comes from a good place. Everyone wants to see their loved ones happy and Ciel is the boy Lizzy loves best of all—of course she’s going to try everything under the sun to try and put a little smile on his face.

And Lizzy DOES understand Ciel, to the best of her ability. She’s never once asked Ciel (or Sebastian) about his time in the cult. She uses games to figure out Ciel’s secrets. (Ex: Easter egg hunt—this is where Lizzy knew Ciel was only pretending to remember their Easter tradition and where Lizzy’s suspicions were confirmed—something life changing and drastic DID happen to Ciel during “that month.”) She doesn’t force Ciel to take her to public events because, let’s face it—as the only daughter to a high ranking marquess that serves directly under the queen, Lizzy’s bound to be invited to dozens of soirees a week. And as a gentlewoman of the aristocracy, Lizzy’s going to need an escort. In Victorian times, it was typical that the fiancé escort his bride-to-be but here is Lizzy—sweet, traditional Lizzy—ignoring precedent because she KNOWS Ciel dislikes social events. (Keep in mind, this is information being pieced together by a 14 year old girl who’s been taught to be an “unknowing angel.”)

Elizabeth understands the change that’s come over Ciel, knows that he won’t be interested in the same things he was interested in before. But in spite of Ciel shutting her out, in spite of Sebastian’s constant presence, Lizzy is still working her hardest to try and bring some happiness to Ciel’s life because she loves him. She loves him so much that Bravat was able to take Lizzy’s desperation and devotion and use it against her.

Let’s not forget—the reason Lizzy continued seeing Bravat was because she thought he could help her make Ciel happy.


3. “She’s so ANNOYING. Like, her voice!”

I think this is the most common excuse people use to not like Lizzy. They critique her high levels of energy (even though Finny and Soma are equally vivacious), her love for beautiful things (even though Ciel is probably the vainest little boy in the whole of London, England), and the fact that she “doesn’t understand” Ciel (counterargument already presented above).

You know, in a lot of ways I see Lizzy as a Scarlett O’Hara figure—strong, determined, unflinching in the face of danger. But also very, very misunderstood. Lizzy only behaves with an exorbitant amount of energy because she wants to make Ciel happy —to bring some sunlight into his gloomy, pessimistic world. The end results are not always successful but the intention behind Lizzy’s every action is pure—as pure as Soma’s decision to help Ciel simply because he saw him as a friend. Lizzy puts on a vaudeville for Ciel in a misguided attempt to help him heal and move on from whatever is tormenting him.


4. “Oh my god, did you see her standing there in the third panel? Like who doesn’t that! RUDE.”

Black Butler is told from the perspectives of Ciel and Sebastian. We only get brief glimpses into Lizzy’s psyche so it’s impossible for us to codify her completely. What I do know is that some people out there will always hate on Lizzy—whether it’s because they dislike her voice (well that’s her VA’s fault, not Lizzy’s) or because Lizzy “gets in the way” of someone’s ship. I’m not here to reason with those who refuse to be reasoned with. This is me expressing my adoration for a flawed, misguided, but pure of heart character whose unconditional love for a changed, callous boy makes me admire her all the more.

Oddly enough, people seem to relate “understanding” a person to “knowing exactly what happened to them to make them this way.” And to me, this is really giving Lizzy an unfair shake. By this definition, Lizzy could never understand Ciel because she doesn’t know what happened to him in that one month that’s made him the way he is (reason: he flat out didn’t tell her and uses every opportunity to prevent her from finding out. Ciel is so concerned about protecting Elizabeth’s goodness/light/purity that on the Campania, when Sebastian was slaughtering all those Bizarre Dolls, Ciel shielded Lizzy from seeing the carnage because he wants her to remain innocent and unaware). To quote Albert Einstein, “Any fool can know. The point is to understand.

I think Lizzy understands Ciel—she can sense the pain, the resignation, the drive towards something greater that Ciel is working towards. This is best exemplified in an early chapter (after Ciel’s fallen asleep and Sebastian is serving her tea) where Lizzy expresses sorrow that Ciel won’t tell her anything. Sebastian comforts Lizzy by telling her that while “It’s a difficult question for me as a butler…[I can tell you] one thing…He [Ciel] was able to spend a nice, free day with everyone.” To which Lizzy retorts that she wishes she could believe that. Elizabeth may not know what happened to Ciel during that month, but she understands.

This then brings me to my next and final point—people wanting Lizzy to “accept” the situation by stepping aside and leaving the manga. Well, to quote Michael J. Fox: “Acceptance doesn’t mean resignation; it means understanding that something is what it is and that there’s got to be a way through it.” — And this is exactly what Lizzy’s doing. She’s fighting for a way to help Ciel, to help him move on, to do anything that might benefit it. Lizzy’s accepted the situation but she’s certainly not resigned for it—Lizzy’s a fighter, and she’ll continue fighting for the boy she loves until the very end.


Further discussion is encouraged. But, please remember: refrain from using derogatory terms, unsubstantiated arguments, and referrals to “proofs” that are nothing more than blog posts made from those who wish to paint Kuroshitsuji in terms more favorable to them and whatever else they ship. I am not disparaging other characters or ships—I merely ask that you don’t refer to those “did you know” blog posts that’s caused so much strife in the Black Butler fandom. Thank you.

Soulmate AU #1 Charles Xavier

AU: Everyone has the first sentence their soul mate will say to them tattooed onto their body.

Originally posted by julee-art

Not my gif

Words: too many… 2357

Warnings: I didn’t proofread, like one swearword, fem!reader

A/N: I have come to the conclusion that there are by far not enough soulmate AUs with the x-men, so I decided to try my luck. I hope it’s not too bad lol enjoy! xoxo

“Hey, let’s get a coffee after this!”, Kim suggested, picking up a bunch of flyers and dropping them down a stairwell. You watched them sail to the ground one by one, feeling their flowing movements tickle your mind. “I can’t, I have a lecture.”

“Come on!”, she groaned and waving a You only live once flyer in front of your face. “You hate that class. And the professor and the book.”

“That doesn’t mean I don’t have to go.” Silence. “No offence, but how the hell are we even friends? Like, how have we become acquainted?”, Kim asked. “Opposites attract.” “Which is why your soul mate is going to be the most outgoing party person you have ever met!”, she said, leaning against the rail. “You should meet him half way. If he’s a party person, you will meet him at a party. Which means that you have to attend a party. Ideally the Christmas Festival tomorrow night.”

“If you want me to come, you could just ask.”, you replied and put the pile of books you were carrying onto the windowsill next to you. “You wouldn’t come.” “Well, I am here, helping you carry out invitations to some kind of drug convention.” “Good point.” “I know.”

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tutoring sessions | peter parker x reader

prompt: can I get an imagine where the reader needs a tutor for math so MJ volunteers Peter (knowing that Peter likes the reader)?! THNX SO MUCH

warnings: fluff?

notes: this was one of my first requests and i find it so cute, thank you so much to the anon who requested this! there will most likely be a part two if it’s wanted enough. oh, god, i hope you like this.

Hands tangled in your hair, your fingers kneading into your skull, massaging the aching headache away before it even fully approaches; you’re stressed and a heavy sigh falls from your lips, a mixture of tired and boredom dragged into it in one simple breath.

You’re staring–staring, staring, staring–continuously at the pages and equations that are laid out in front of you on the work desk, and it all seems like jumbled garbage, the numbers making loops in your brain before they leave out through the other ear, leaving you no more educated or enlightened than previously. Your focus and frustration, both overpowering any trace of relief or happiness in your body at the moment, are concentrated into your pencil as it practically cuts into your notebook paper hard, making useless chicken scratch as you hold back the urge to let out a purely horrific scream of agony. You were ready to wave your white flag, and your tutor hadn’t even arrived yet.

You had been waiting in the music room for about twenty minutes, trying to do some of your AP Calculus work on your own, but quite obviously it was to no avail. Michelle, or MJ, told you that she’d meet you in here since it was quiet and she could properly teach you how to correctly calculate everything in time for the make-up exam you had to take in a few days time so that you could keep your 4.0 GPA and your spot in an advanced class. MJ seemed like a reliable person you could depend on, and so the fact that she still wasn’t here to help you with something you so desperately needed help with, was disappointing, and not to mention: a gigantic waste of your time.

The clock ticks, almost as if it’s mocking you, and you wonder if your Mom will kill you for making her wait outside in her car for as long as you did. The rustle of papers and the door being opened catches your attention, however, and you crane your neck to see who had walked in.

“Peter?” You’re confused, and the sight of him carrying a stack of textbooks with a pencil hanging out of his mouth doesn’t make the situation any better. “I thought MJ was going to…”

Peter walks over and places his things on a plastic chair before sitting next to you, taking the pencil out of his mouth to smile shyly, refusing to meet your eyes. “MJ told me that you, uh, needed help with Mrs. Garderner’s class and I’m getting all A’s in that class, so she figured that I could tutor you. If that’s okay.”

Your eyebrows knitted together as you thought of MJ. Her grades were just as good as Peter’s, and you and her talked more often–so, why would she randomly ditch and send Peter in her place? You’re not bothered or annoyed, considering that Peter was rather sweet to you and could take up interesting conversation when he was feeling less nervous, but you just didn’t get it.

What was MJ up to?

“Yeah, of course it’s okay,” you answer him as he takes out his notes and just stares at them in his lap, tapping his pencil against his jeans. “I just need this session to finish up early, because I told my mom last minute and she’s in the car waiting.”

“Oh, we could reschedule if you want. I wouldn’t want to keep you or your mom waiting,” he says and he finally looks up to meet your gaze. You grin at him to ease him up, and chuckle when he blushes. “I’m sorry about being late, by the way. I usually get out at 2:45 sharp and MJ told me literally as I ran out the door.”

“It’s fine, I’ll just text my mom and tell her that I’m running a lot later than I thought,” you inform him, taking out your phone to do just that and you glance at him, his hand nervously brushing a lock of wavy brown hair out of his eyes. “My make-up test is in a couple days, so I need to be tutored everyday until then. I told all of this to MJ, but I’m not sure if she told any of this to you.”

“No, she didn’t. But that’s okay, I’m sure I can squeeze you into my schedule,” Peter says playfully, and you laugh and raise an eyebrow.

“Wow, you’re getting cockier by the minute, Peter Parker. I don’t know if I want to actually go through with this tutoring deal now.”

“No! I mean, I was joking, [Y/N], I wasn’t trying to be arrogant or anything–”

“Peter, Peter,” you interrupt, cutting him off, “I know. Come on, chill. I’m as calm as they come.” You wink at him before giggling. “And don’t bring up that time I threw up during our field trip last month where I was super nervous, because I know you were there and by that amused look on your face, I can tell you know what I’m talking about. If you make fun of me, I really don’t think I can go through with us.”

“Us?” Peter asks absentmindedly as he opens up the right textbook after closing up the wrong one. He wonders if you notice how fast his heart is beating. The close proximity between you makes electricity run through his entire body and he finds himself tapping away his adrenaline via foot-against-tile to get rid of it.

“Yes, us,” you repeat, “I’m pretty sure we’re going to be best friends after these tutoring sessions. I could give Ned a run for his money.”

Peter chuckles. “Oh, I don’t know, Ned is pretty competitive.”

“I guess we’ll have to see if I ace this test first,” you shrug, tucking a piece of hair back behind you ear, turning towards your work so you can actually learn something with Peter here, and because of this you fail to notice him biting his lip as he admires you.

He wants to tell you how beautiful you look right now, and how fluttery you makes his heart in a way no one else can, and how much he hates MJ for doing this to him when she knows every single detail about how he feels about you–but at the same time, he’s so incredibly thankful because he could’ve never volunteered without a little push. And at this point, he’s staring, hopelessly staring, and he’s marking down the slope of your nose and the way you’re currently sticking the tip of your tongue out in concentration whilst writing down copies of his notes. He can’t help it, he can’t help but do his absolute best to refrain from bursting at the seams just so he won’t blow his cover and mess things up with you, and he finally looks away to get his mind off of you and onto what he’s here for: math.

He’s just your tutor, your friend who’s here to help, and he doesn’t know why he’s suddenly acting like this. God, he thinks, Spider-Man would handle this situation so much better than Peter Parker right now; and he’s so focused on not focusing on you, that he doesn’t even realize the look in your eyes as you turn to look at him.

“Are you okay, Pete?” you ask, and you take notice of the fact that he hasn’t said anything in the past five minutes. “Ready to get to work?”

He nods, and apologizes of course, because he’s Peter Parker and that’s his thing, and he steals a glimpse of you one more time, wishing he had Karen from his suit to give him the motivation to say how he feels about you. But he doesn’t, so he can’t. And so, instead, what he says in the end is just this:

“Yeah, let’s get to work.”

Bus Stop

Summary:  Jack bumps into the same beautiful stranger at the bus stop every day.  Will he gather the courage to speak to him? Inspired by this song by The Hollies.  


Originally posted by coldrainy

He supposed he could take a cab, an Uber, anything else – but the quiet anonymity the bus afforded him was one of the simpler things Jack Zimmermann was thankful for and truly enjoyed. For what reason would an NHL multimillionaire have for taking public transit? No one ever paid him any attention, and he was perfectly fine with that.

He walked the three blocks to the bus stop and stood quietly, sipping his coffee in his Je ♥ Montréal travel mug that he bought the last time he traveled through Trudeau airport. His SUV had only been in the shop four days, but he continued taking the bus whenever he could even after it had been repaired.

It was the preseason and things, although quite busy, were still somewhat relaxed. And during this time, Jack’s routine was the same. He’d walk two blocks, stop at The Roast to fill his travel mug, then walk one more block to the bus stop. He’d ride the 30 minutes to the arena, serenely and without fuss, then get off two blocks before rather than right in front. He’d take a Lyft back to his apartment, or hitch a ride with Tater who would drive by Jack’s place on his way home.

And so it went for a few weeks, until one day he had just taken his seat and as the bus began to pull away he heard a voice call out.

“Wait! Oh, lord! Please wait!”

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Come On

HAPPY HAPPY HAPPY BIRTHDAY @destieldrabblesdaily !!!! Shirley, you are the best. the absolute best. HERE IS A BIRTHDAY GIFT OF A HIGH-SCHOOL AU FOR YOU <333

Dean let out a long, slow breath.

He’d imagined this moment so many times that he’d managed to make the reality of it feel like another daydream. Should he do it at school, or somewhere else? Separately, or all at once? Slowly, or bluntly? Seriously, or as a joke? Over and over, round and round, he’d pictured how he should come out to his friends.

And now here he was, with them all gathered around one of the tables at lunch. It was too hot for them all to be hungry; the summer had set in early, and it was all around them - in the discarded juice boxes littering the floor, and the scent of hot tarmac outside, and the whine of the air conditioning. It was putting sheens on foreheads and turning skin to gold - and Dean and his friends were at one of the outside lunch tables, enjoying it.

Jo and Anna were laughing together about a video that Ash was showing them on his phone; Charlie was talking at length to Garth about the Dungeons and Dragons game that they were both a part of, and Hannah was quietly biting into an apple as she listened in. And opposite Dean, Castiel was reading his book.

Dean watched them all for a moment, unnoticed. He had his bare arms resting on the hot metal of the table, his t-shirt sticking slightly to his lower back in the heat. Soon, they’d need to move inside - but first, he had something he needed to tell them. They were his friends. He wanted them to know.

He took a deep breath, and let it go. He could feel his heart pounding.

“Dean?” Castiel said softly; when their eyes met over the table, Dean swallowed. Castiel’s face shifted; it was the barest hint of a frown, the tiniest tilt of the head, the gentlest clouding of his blue eyes - but in the silent language that they’d built up over the years, it was a clear question. Of course, Dean thought, Castiel would realise that something was wrong.

He cleared his throat.

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BONNIE & CLYDE || 1 (M)

➤ part one | part two
summary: Ride along, he says, his eyes as bright as the scorching summer sun hitting the roof of his beat-up car. And although you’ve promised yourself time and time again that you wouldn’t let your feeble heart surface around him, not after everything he’s told you, you find the corners of your lips curving and your palm heating as you touch the car handle. After all, the soft smile he greets you with doesn’t look like it could belong to the killer you know he is.
genre: angst, smut [jungkook x reader x hoseok]
word count: 8k

This is not what you imagined months ago while daydreaming of what you would be doing today. Sitting in class all day or leaning against the counter at work, visualizing hundreds of scenarios where you and your knight in shining armor are having the time of your life on the one day in the whole year set aside just for love. He would be wearing a black suit and tie, his hair brushed and looking at you as if you fished out all the stars in the universe and put them in your eyes. And you would be wearing a dress made of silk that took weeks of extra shifts but it would be all worth it when he’d see you, hair made up and a lovesick smile on your lips.

February 14th is supposed to be a night you’d never forget in your entire life, a night you’d look back on while holding your children and looking at your husband, saying wow, where did the time go? It’s not supposed to end up with you looking at racks and racks of cards for every possible occasion at nine in the evening with a frown as deep. You’re probably the only person in the small 24 hour store beside the clerk himself, who frankly looks like he doesn’t want to be here more than you.

You’re met with hundreds of shades of pink when your fingers trail over the Valentine’s Day cards, a longing in your eyes that you wish didn’t show on your face so much. Cartoon hearts and cursive writing and glitter – you’ve heard of the story where the princess kisses the frog and he turns into a prince, but would it be too much to open a Valentine card and have him appear in front of you.

Sighing, you trace the edge of a purple paper and wonder where you’ve gone wrong. Not one of your friends or people you know who are your age is still single; everyone’s engaged or in a long-term marriage, hell, some people are even married and settling down together. So what did you do to deserve this out of nowhere? You’ve never been the best at relationships or love in general, ever since you were a little girl, with your first boyfriend in kindergarten abandoning you the first chance he got for a new student. Obviously, you didn’t let that hurt your morale and kept your chin high, until the situation repeated itself again in the form of Park Minseok in seventh grade, who only pretended to date you to get to your best friend. Thankfully, the over-hormonal sack of baby fat he was didn’t get him far in the case.

Your only significant and somehow serious relationship came to you in your last year of high school. His name was Seokjin and he was the epitome of prince charming. With his soft brown hair and love-filled eyes, he swooped in on you like an eagle on its prey, but you were too entranced by his gentle touches and whispered praises to realize. And for those ten school months, he made you feel like you were on top of the world, as if nothing could touch you as long as his arms were enclosed around you. But you should have known, the only way Seokjin could get off the high pedestal upon which you placed him was if he jumped down by himself, and he did just that when he informed you that he didn’t see any true meaning behind your relationship that could last until the beginning of university.

Tears don’t well up in your eyes anymore as you stand under bright store lights and Minnie Mouse stares at you with an almost teasing, evil glint in her big eyes – even a cartoon character for children has someone to love her, but you’re all alone. You don’t feel the clench in your heart or the sweating of your palms anymore, you’re not the same girl you were who would open her heart to any stranger she passed on the street.

At least, you don’t think so.

Looking up, you meet gazes with the security camera placed overhead and you see yourself, wearing grey sweatpants and a huge koala jumper, looking like you sleep-walked your way to the pharmacy from the safety of your bed. That’s when the self-hatred kicks in. Dear God, what are you doing? You look into your own black-and-white reflection one last time – and you see him.

Tall, lean, head covered in a dark beanie and walking straight towards you with the type of confidence to shake planets. His hands are shoved into the pockets of his hoodie, Timberlands click-clacking until he’s barely a foot away from you. A hand reaches out and takes an entire stack out of the rack in front of you, and – fuck – your heart almost jumps out of your chest. Your imagination immediately sky-rockets and you can’t help but wonder how romantic it would be, to meet the one when you’re at your lowest point and, oh my, on Valentine’s Day and what if he gives you the card he’s holding right now and says something so romantic you’ll be swept off your –

“Such bullshit.”

The sound of your cardboard falling to the ground replaces your heart falling to your stomach. Of course. Of course, he’s an asshole who knows nothing of love, like most men you’ve ever looked at twice. Disappointment crashes in your chest like the stranger’s shoulder in your own, until he puts his arm around your waist, a small whistle leaving his pursed lips. With orbs as large as saucers, you finally get a good look at him.

His skin is as golden as honey, hair a reddish blonde that falls into his dark brown eyes. His lips are full and pink as he whistles, the edges pulling up into a smirk and he starts what you have a feeling isn’t a friendly greeting:

“If anyone had told me I would find such a beautiful sight at this dump of a place, I would have come way earlier.” He sniggers your way, initiating what he thinks is seductive eye-contact, but it frankly renders you uncomfortable.

“Great, then you wouldn’t see me walking away from you now.”

He grabs your wrist before you can do just that, the twitch of his lips growing wider.

“You’re feisty. And I’m Hoseok. What’s a pretty girl like you doing in a place like this?”

The heart rushes to your cheeks like fans run towards idols coming out of the airport. This insufferable stranger, yes insufferable, only pushes himself close to you until you can smell the musk scent of his cologne and aftershave on the nape of his neck. Your senses are almost on fire from the proximity, not being used to such intimacy for so long, and now your entire face blushes for a completely different reason.

“Well, not like this will interest the likes of you, but I came here to get Valentine’s Day cards.” You smile. “Have a nice day.”

“You can’t possibly believe that a cheap piece of cut-out cardboard can make anyone feel special.” He snorts out, and instead of making it seem like a question, his tone is almost challenging you to answer him.

“What would someone like you know anything about feelings?” Scoffing, you turning away from him to put the card back as he watches you meticulously. Under his dark-eyed gaze, you smirk, a centimeter away from placing it on the stand. Until you don’t. Your eyes land on the ugliest, most cliché hot pink card, and your brain flashes as if it were a winning casino game.

“What’s that mean, someone like me?” Feet inch closer, but yours don’t budge from the floor.

“Let me put it to you this way.” You sharply turn to face him again, pointing the edge of your card against his chest threateningly. “Have you ever met someone so condescending, annoying, and down-right irreproachable that it almost feels like looking at them not only physically hurts, but it also makes you read them like an open book?”

Hoseok’s once charming and relaxed face contorts into a fierce snarl, you think he might jump on you and bite your neck, like a lion on a helpless deer in the savanna. But he does nothing of the sort, instead choosing to tug your arm closer to his chest and intertwining your fingers together, much softer than any of his previous actions have been. A gasp escapes your mouth when your undoubtedly clammy palm meets his cold, smooth one. Of course, even his hands are perfect.

“And what gives you the right to judge me like that, princess?” It takes a few minutes for your brain to process what he said with the way his eyes dart down to your lips so he can listen to you. The movement only makes your hopeless romantic fantasies scream for escape—is it just you or does he look like he’s about to kiss you?

“I-I-I mean, you’re a stranger…” Stuttering, you shut up immediately when he brings his face so fucking close that your noses touch, light caresses of skin against skin.

“My name’s Jung Hoseok. I’m twenty three years old and I major in one of Korea’s most famous schools. I have more money in my jeans’ pockets than a man brings home every month. One snap of my fingers and I can be having lunch with the president in her own damn kitchen, not that I’d ever get near that wench with a ten foot pole. You know nothing about me, sweetheart, you don’t know my life, what I’ve seen and endured, what I’ve been through, my passions and dislikes, you don’t know me.

His speech leaves you breathless, almost like you’re the one who was speaking so rapidly, while he stood in front of you, but more on top of you than anything, faultlessly well. You can merely watch him helplessly as he grabs a card from the rack and places it in your jumper’s front pocket. With gentle lips leaving a kiss on your cheek, this Jung Hoseok walks away from you and doesn’t look over his shoulders to see if you’re watching.

And unlike his fleeting kiss, he is everything but a disappearing, fast-paced memory in your mind. For days on end, this bright-haired stranger tip-toes around your thoughts whenever he pleases, he’s the hidden meaning behind the lyrics of every song you listen to since meeting him, he’s every orange-tinted object you see on your way to university or work in the streets. All you can think about when the sun intertwines with the moon is how sharply his eyes bored into yours as he spoke such strong yet such cliché words in a twenty-four hour pharmacy, for God’s sake, the least sexy place to have a permanent seat in your train of thought.

He fades away with the snow on the road almost two weeks later, when your brain is too blurred with exam dates and projects and essays to think about a near-stranger who held your hand in the middle of an argument. Even if it was on Valentine’s Day, the one day in the year you forget everything and focus solely on your love life. If only.

It’s the end of February and the weather isn’t looking too fabulous from your seat in your bedroom’s desk chair, looking out the window with a solemn look. The sky’s a boring grey with light splashes of blue if you look closely, but the sun looks to have given up on humanity today. You click your pen on the table and lean back, the blank sheet of paper in front of you standing out the most though it’s the blandest thing inside the painted four walls. But you can’t focus on writing your essay and you can’t let it drag you down for the next few days.

You can hear your roommate talking on the phone outside, even if she’s a gracious-looking girl, her voice can sure travel through walls. Daeyoung giggles and snorts every now and then, talking about some event she wants to go to or some skirt she wants to buy, while you’re leaning over a piece of paper like the Hunchback of Notre-Dame and trying to fry your brain for information. The want to abandon creeps up on you while the door to your bedroom opens loudly and in struts Daeyoung. She says goodbye to whoever she was talking to and sits on your desk with the utmost pity in her expression.

“Y/N-ah,” she sighs, her blonde hair falling over her face when she looks down painstakingly. “I know you said you didn’t want to be disturbed tonight because you’re going to be making substantial steps in the world of psychology, and I can totally see you making magic in here, but I have one more ticket to an all-exclusive party and Jinri can’t come.”

“Dae, I told you I really have to stay in tonight.” You whine, although a huge part of you wants to throw your schoolwork away and just have fun, when you haven’t been to a party since the wild Seokjin days. Why not play hard to get for now?

“Yes, and I completely understand, seeing all the work you’ve done.” She picks up your paper and gestures the lack of lines and, more specifically, actual words. You snort her way and sigh, throwing yourself back in your chair in mock-laziness. “But just so you know, I’m not wearing skirts, thigh-highs, dresses, anything open in the back or the front of down under, I’m not wearing heels, stilettos, or pumps—”

“Ow, ow, dear God, woman, stop this attack on my ears. I suppose you want to go to a party dressed like an ancient nun.” Daeyoung rolls her eyes and, with your wrist in her dainty hands, she pushes you into her closet. That nearly crazy look in her eyes, the one where she mentally prepares outfits and critiques them in head, is back and it sends chills down your spine.

After half an hour of there is no way my ass or any other human ass can fit into this’s and I would actually push you off a cliff and jump in right after you so we would topple over each other on the ground rather than wear this STD-attracting skirt’s, you finally settle on an outfit that pleases all. A simple black dress that falls mid-thigh and a maroon jacket that flows down to your thigh is the only common ground you can both agree on, paired with small-heeled black shoes.

Daeyoung doesn’t bother giving you details about where you’re going or who you’re going to meet there, only telling you to get in the car when her boyfriend comes to pick her up. He isn’t exactly what you had in mind when she told you her man is a guitarist and singer in a pop rock band during a movie night not long ago, choosing to imagine a busty guy with tattoos and piercings in all the right and wrong places. Frankly, when you first saw Taehyung, you thought you’d gotten in the wrong car. But he’s nothing other than friendly, with his charming smile and soft brown hair and excited voice. The impression of him being a puppy-like boy didn’t last when he almost jumped on Daeyoung with his mouth after a brief hello.

He talks to you about his band on the way over to said-party of the century when he isn’t too busy trying to see how far his tongue can go down your roommate’s throat at every red light, the ones he stops at, that is. Taehyung tells you about the three other guys he plays with and how they’ve all been friends for as long as he can remember, growing up in Daegu and moving to Seoul to chase their dreams. He ignores you when you ask how the chase is going, choosing instead to list off his favourite songs that he loves to perform and telling you how none of this would be possible without his girlfriend by his side. The romance in his car becomes virtually too much for you to handle, leading you to open the backseat window and leaning your head out for air like a choking dog.

Your breath gets knocked out of your throat as the car takes a sudden left turn and you’re driving further and further away from the city you’re used to, looking up at Daeyoung in the rear-view mirror with wide eyes, but she only shushes you and tells you to relax and that Taehyung knows where he’s doing. You sit back uneasily but force yourself to nod your head along with the music, rough voices mixing with soft tones and strums of the guitar along with the occasional fluttering of the couple’s lips.

It’s when the car stops in front of a road filled with forgotten factories and dust rolling off the broken sidewalks that your lungs forget how to function. Your roommate and her boyfriend slide out of their seats and motion for you to follow them casually, your hands shaking as you grab your purse and close the backseat door behind you. Taehyung’s long legs lead you inside an abandoned building to which he holds the keys and then he walks over to a door on the floor, making your eyebrows furrow. But neither of them seem to be realizing how horrifying this is for someone’s first experience at a university party.

Daeyoung goes in first and you can see stairs leading downstairs and then you hear it – the sound of a steady beat and people cheering, a light voice flying in from the under the doorway. Her boyfriend’s teasing grin helps as you step down yourself, darkness submerging you and you hold onto the walls on either side of you for dear life, until you feel Taehyung’s hands on your waist guiding you down. When your feet hit the ground on the last step, you can’t believe what you’re seeing in front of you.

What seems to be hundreds of people are gathering around a stage where bright purple and blue smoke is enveloping the singers on top of it. The music is rapid but the voices are low and sensual, the faint lights hanging on the walls in a historic castle fashion only helping set the mood more. A few tables are placed all over the place, and Taehyung guides both of you to a table close to the platform.

You sit down on a chair as Daeyoung greets two boys sitting right under the lights so you can clearly see their faces, and you’re blown away by how handsome they both are. One of them is seated right in front of you, tall and sturdy, his collarbones peeking out from under his black v-neck shirt, his skin tanned and soft-looking under a tuff of midnight hair. His lips move but you can hardly hear him. The other’s skin is pale and his hair is a minty green, eyes shaped into slits and he only nods at you as a greeting. You stop your gazing when your friend gives you a cup full of strong-smelling alcohol and you smile before holding it close to you without actually drinking any.

The one with the midnight hair leans closer to you until your knees are touching and you can see a tiny scar on his left cheek and you can’t help the small smile spreading on your face. He says something but you point at your ears in hopes he’ll understand. You see him putting his hand on the shoulders of your chair and suddenly you’re closer to him than you were before, his breath on your ear.

“I’m Jungkook,” he whispers, and moves back so he can look at you. His eyes look amused at your bewildered expression and then – “Am I too close to you? I can back off.” You’ve never shook your head faster, and then you lean in closer to him and say your name in his ear softly. “It’s nice to meet you. You’re a friend of Daeyoung’s, I suppose.” He grins at your nodding and says again, “I’m the main singer in the band Tae’s in. The little Grinch over there is Yoongi hyung. Hobi hyung isn’t here yet, but I’m sure you’ll like him when he comes.”

“I like you already, isn’t that enough?” You bite your cheek at the burst of confidence that took you over so suddenly and Jungkook laughs, gaining a bit more insurance when it comes to you and placing his hand on your knee, not touching your dress but a hell of a lot close to it.

“It’s more than enough, babe.” He chuckles, bringing his glass to his lips and throwing his head back. “Your first time here, right?”

You’re about to answer when a man on stage screams out a name and Jungkook stands up suddenly, looking around to Taehyung and Yoongi with worried eyes. Both of them don’t look a lot better than him, but Yoongi shrugs his shoulders and takes off his jacket, standing up and ushering the two younger boys after him. Jungkook winks at you and then he’s disappeared into the crowd. In a matter of minutes, the three of them are on the stage and everyone arounds you screams incredibly loudly, throats are getting ripped.

It’s when he’s on stage that you really take in how attractive he is, standing in front of the mic with both his hands on it, the same hands that were flirting with the edge of your dress not too long ago, looking out towards the crowd with that same amused glint with which he was looking at you. The crowd disperses just as Taehyung starts humming into his microphone, and a figures comes up on stage. It takes a few seconds for your eyes to drift from Jungkook and settle in on this new person, who looks really familiar right now, with strawberry hair and golden skin and – oh dear God.

Your mind refuses to comprehend what your eyes are seeing, the chance of this person slapping Jungkook’s arm playfully and moving towards the set of drums at the back of the stage being him is so bloody small, yet a part of you knows he’s right there. Although Jungkook didn’t mention anything about a Jung Hoseok, and why did you even remember his name in the first place, he’s such ancient history?

The strawberry-haired man takes off his jacket and the crowd roars even louder, chanting his name and you hear it, it’s nothing else but it, even when it can’t be Hoseok! Hoseok! Hoseok! is all you can hear.  He takes the drumsticks out and slaps them against each other three times and the music suddenly invades your senses. It’s just guitar notes and the beat of the drums, until a melodious voice interrupts, and you look at Jungkook to see his eyes closed, shutting out everything around him and he sings so enchantingly, you feel yourself wanting to get up and chase the echoes of his words around town.

So I heard you found somebody else. And at first, I thought it was a lie.” You recognize the song immediately, sitting back in the comfort of the chair and letting your eyes swim over the hundreds of bodies filling the underground space, some molding together while others are moving freely to the sound of the music, but you always end up looking at him.

His sleeveless shirt shows his bare arms, his strong biceps looking evidently delicious in the low lighting and accompanied by Yoongi’s deep voice, you feel your will slipping away. Hoseok only looks up from his drums to watch the crowd with mesmerizing eyes, almost as if he’s seen the sight so many times but every time takes his breath away until he’s left with nothing but the clicking of the wood against the drums and Jungkook and Taehyung’s voices melting into one. All thoughts of condescending, arrogant Jung Hoseok from the pharmacy disappear, washed away by the waves of this new, passionate Hoseok like pristine waves hit the shore.

For the next forty minutes, you find yourself glued to the image of him throwing his head back and his neck glistening with sweat as he relentlessly hits the drums with all the force he has and your mind wanders down a nasty road but it doesn’t have control over its thoughts anymore and then you’re imagining Jung Hoseok on your bed, imagining not only his neck but his chest and the rest of him covered with a layer of sweat as your thighs straddle his hips and he thrusts up into you –

“They’re pretty amazing, aren’t they?” You jump up from your seat and your glass follows suit, spilling over your dress and knocking out on the floor. Daeyoung looks at you from beside with a worried look and you frantically nod with a tight smile, picking up the glass and putting it back on the table. 

The crowd roars once again and you see the boys waving with grins on their faces and getting down from the stage, heading straight for you and your heart blubbers up your throat. Jungkook’s the first in line, his smile still on his face when he looks at you and you feel it’s impossible not to grin along when he looks so nice, hair messy and sweaty, almost fucked out but you can’t let yourself think like that again. He reaches you first and you clamber to get up, wishing he could somehow help you disappear from Jung Hoseok’s gaze that might pry any time now. And with that credence of urgent times, you jump into his arms.

Jungkook’s chest vibrated against yours as he laughs in your ears, his own hands circling around your ears while you hide your face in his neck.

“You sang so well, I had no idea you guys were this talented.” You whisper against his cheek, letting your hair hide the rest of your face from everyone but him.

“I see you didn’t come here without a judgemental idea already forming in your head, Y/N.” He chuckles again when your hand hits his chest and you sense his arms loosening as a tell-tale sign he’s about to place you down on the floor. You take a deep breath and before he can do anything, you lean in and press a chaste kiss to his ear and bite down – “Why don’t you show me how wrong I was again?”

Jungkook’s grip on your waist is a tenfold tighter just as the last word leaves your mouth and you grin successfully. He places you down and murmurs something to Yoongi beside him, before he’s grabbing your hand and taking you towards the corner of the room. You giggle as you run after him and he looks back at you with his lips forming a smile, tugging on a doorknob until it opens loose and taking you inside. The room’s much brighter and you can only hear hums from the party next door, but it doesn’t matter as soon as Jungkook looks at you with that heart-stopping determination and nothing means a damn thing anymore.

The back of your knees hit the single bed in the middle of the room and Jungkook follows behind you, falling on top of you and placing his arms on either side of your head to support his weight. His fingertips trail over your neck softly, driving you crazy with how such little touches can have your skin feeling on fire. Your hips subconsciously thrust up into Jungkook’s stomach and he grins, dropping his waist to keep yours stuck to the mattress. Moaning aloud, you can’t do anything but lay there, having him so close to where you need him most but he isn’t moving an inch.

His hair looks lighter now, shades of brown mixed together in a colour that is just simply Jungkook, and then he moves his head to start pressing kisses to your neck. You fret your fingers to his hair and hold him closer, wanting to feel him against every part of you all at once. Teeth nip and bite at your skin while his tongue soothes the bite, going lower and lower and you reaches the swells of your breasts, looking at you quizzically.

“Is this what you want?” You nod, hands still wound up in his hair as you try to get him to go back to pleasuring, but he doesn’t budge, “Say it, kitten.”

“God, I want this, I want you so bad.” With that, he takes your face in both his hands and crashes his lips against yours, all tongue and teeth until you forget what it actually means like to kiss someone, too lost in the sensation of him.

Jungkook pulls away too fast for your liking, holding your bottom lip between his teeth and biting down almost viciously, boring his eyes into yours. And then he’s gone.

“Strip.” He says sternly, getting on his knees on the floor and tugging your thighs closer to the edge, until your ass is hanging off the bed. You quickly tug your dress off until you’re left in your bra and panties, cursing yourself for not wearing anything sexier than plain dark ones. But your lack of lingerie seems to be the last thing on Jungkook’s mind with the way he’s looking at you like he might swallow you whole.

His long fingers play with the lace trimming of your panties as his other hands leans and up and he disregards your bra in seconds, surprising you. His palm envelopes your breast and you moan, loving the feeling of his hand on your hardening nipple. Jungkook grins as he feels you shivering under his touch, loving how you were easy to please, grabbing the supple flesh and playing with it between his fingers while he lets his hand cup your ass.

Profanities leaves your mouth when he finally wraps his mouth around your nipple, and you wonder how deranged you must look, laying naked except for your panties in a random bed in front of a stranger you only met an hour ago, while he’s mouthing at your chest, still fully-clothed. He switches to the other nipple and lifts your ass up until your grinding against him, only your back is laying on the bed while the rest of you grabbing onto his lean body for mercy. You can feel his covered cock under his jeans, the only barrier between you and him as he snaps your panties off your legs and you kick them off for good measure, letting your wetness flow down your thighs.

You don’t want him to waste any time, you want him to take his pants off and get to it, you want him to make your toes curl and your walls shake as he bottoms out, you want him to make you shake in your own skin while you sink you draw scarlet lines on his back with your nails, but Jungkook seems like the type to make you shutter and shiver in bed for hours before giving you an ounce of the satisfaction you so deeply crave.

He flattens his tongue on your belly and leans down until his lips are centimeters from your clit, and you moans desperately, grinding in the air under his teasing eyes and you know he’s been waiting for this, drawing helpless groans out of your throat like a madman until it aches, everything aches.

Jungkook,” you scream, tugging his at his hair until he winces and looks at you like you defied, but you’re too tired to care anymore. You take all your weight and throw yourself on him, he’s lying on his back and you’re straddling his face. You feel his groans vibrate against your core, your wetness dripping onto his cheeks and the sight is so damn electrifying, his hands on your ass and pushing your forward.

The first touch of his lips to your clit make you throw your head back in a silent scream, every hair on your body standing on edge as he laps at you with the hunger of a starved man, and even though you’re on top of him, he still takes the shots with his hands descending when you get to grind on his face.

“Oh my God, you’re so fucking good, don’t you dare stop,” you hiss and moan, thighs clenching and unclenching, feeling one of his fingers lean down and tease your entrance with the tips. God, you can feel him thrusting it inside your tight walls, not teasing you anymore and going full out, licking you up frivolously like he’s never going to get the chance again and –

You can’t believe your ears, maybe you’re hallucinating from all the pleasure his tongue is giving you all of a sudden after actual years of struggling, but it really sounds like someone’s knocking on the door, the sound getting louder as your moans do a crescendo of their own. Jungkook pinches your thigh and stops moving altogether, his eyebrows furrowing and he picks you up in his strong arms, places you in the middle of the bed with care. You giggle as he blindly reaches for you dress and whispers for you to cover yourself. With a kiss to the side of your neck, much more gentle than he was seconds ago, he goes to the door and makes sure you’re decent before he opens it.

As soon as door’s wide, a head of strawberry-coloured hair slumps over Jungkook quite violently, the latter catching him with fast reflexes. A gasp is stuck in your throat and you scramble to get your panties on it, eyes fixated on Jungkook who looks more mortified than you are.

Hyung.” Jungkook growls, his hands leaning down to grasp Hoseok’s shirt in tight fists, throwing the elder to the wall. Hoseok croons for a while, obviously piss-drunk, and then his eyes fall on you. His face scrunches in confusion and you hope to God he doesn’t recognize you, but when his eyebrows twitch and he looks over at Jungkook with the realization dawning in, you know your prayers weren’t good enough.

The older boy snorts loudly and slams his hand on Jungkook’s chest, throwing the dark-haired singer away and he marches towards you, ignoring Jungkook’s yells of “hey! Hey!” For some reason, your feet are glued to the ground and you can’t do anything except stare at Hoseok’s heaving chest as he grabs you by the waist and moves to get out of the room.

“Where the hell do you think you’re taking her, hyung?” Jungkook screams, running after you as you look back at him, feeling bad for his disarray until he stops moving altogether, watching his friend drag you up the stairs.

“What the fuck is wrong with you? Let me go!” You push and pull against Hoseok’s arms and hands, but his grip on you is much too tight. Your heels scrape against the floor, until he turns around molds your body into the wall with his own.

“First, you insult me as a stranger and pretend like you know what you’re talking about. I knew you recognized me at that pharmacy, the way you turned into stone when I was next to you and looked at me with those big eyes like you couldn’t believe yourself. I figured you were a fan, and it was kind of cute.” He snarls, pushing you back harshly when you try to jump on him with your anger. “And then you open your big mouth and spout the most ridiculous, cliché shit I’ve ever head in twenty-three years on this planet.”

“I didn’t even know who you were, you self-centered bastard!” You yap, wincing when he holds your wrists above your head.

“Sure, you didn’t. I thought maybe you were Namjoon’s little girlfriend and he put you up to this, maybe he did it on purpose. But then you looked way too innocent to be even associated with him. And now you’re here, at my show, seducing my friend. Who are you?” His face is so close to yours and the scent of him hits you all over again, flashbacks of that desperate Valentine’s Day night replaying in your brain. Your senses scream because oh dear God, isn’t it enough that you get a man like Jungkook in one night, but now him again? He smells just how you remember, all strong and musky, with the new addition of vodka to the mélange. And quite frankly, although you know it’s so, so, so wrong, it makes the ache in your stomach come back to life – God, this is so wrong.

“Listen,” you pant and it finally catches his attention, stops his rambling. “My name is Y/N and I’m Daeyoung’s roommate – I’m Taehyung’s girlfriend’s roommate. This is the first fucking time I come here, the first time I see Jungkook or any of your other friends, and, honestly, you’re not giving me the idea of coming back here next weekend.”

He stays silent for a few minutes and you hope the gears in his head are turning in your favour as his gaze washes over your face, looking for any hint of dishonesty, until he lets go of your wrist with a grunt and takes a step back. You wince as you bring your fingers to your skin, looking at the blue and pink flowers starting to bloom around your veins. Hoseok crumples his nose when he looks down at you, murmuring a soft sorry into the tense silence of the empty building.

You look at the door leading back to the party and Hoseok catches on quickly, “Do you want to go back inside?” You shake your head for a no, bending to get your bag that fell to the floor in the man’s haste to confront you.

“Are you always this violent whenever you see a girl trying to get some at a social gathering?” You clear your throat, trying to lighten the air around you.

Hoseok shakes his head with a smile on his lips and you’re unexpectedly laugh a little with him, taken aback by how different he looks when he’s even the tiniest bit happy; his face brightens up, his pearly whites are in view, he has crinkles under his eyes, and, shit, he even has dimples.

“I wouldn’t call this a social gathering, to be honest. Most people come here in search of some music and something to make them forget about life beyond those four walls for the night.” Running a hand through his hair, he bounces on the balls of his feet and surprisingly looks right into you when he speaks. “Whether it be a drink or someone else.”

“And is that a habit of yours, Jung?” You give up on keeping an emotionless face and convince yourself to not overthink the redness that crawls its way from your neck to your cheeks when Hoseok smirks at your question.

“That’s another story for another time, love.”

Quietude reigns for a while between you two, it’s not completely awkward but you’re definitely not comfortable under his stare, looking at your dress and your disheveled hair and you’re surprised he hasn’t mentioned Jungkook yet or whether you should go back to him or not, but it’s even more startling that you haven’t. Just as you see his fingers twitch beside him, you speak up – “You don’t think buses or cabs come by here, do they?”

Hoseok giggles – this tough-looking guy with diamond-dyed hair, dressed in leather and black, with a cast around his left hand that he didn’t even look down at once, with the all-too-well beginnings of a tattoo on the side of his neck – he just giggled at you, and it makes you get a bit more confident around him, makes the blood pound a bit less violently in your ears than it did before. “No, this is a completely deserted area, nobody’s here during the day. That’s why it’s always alive at night.”

You don’t know what he means by that and from that malicious glint in his orbs, you don’t know if someone like you should be asking for answers. Instead, you nod and begin looking for the words to ask where Daeyoung might be, but he beats you to it.

“I can drive you home, though.” He says. “If you want me to.”

It’s absolutely insane, every part of your brain is telling you to not let his now kind tone fool you when minutes ago his voice was as biting as a security dog’s. You shouldn’t let him slip out of his leather jacket and place it over your shoulders like he does, you shouldn’t let him as you for your address and you should definitely not give it to him this easily. For fuck’s sake, you barely know this man and there’s another guy you were hooking up with not too long ago that you should be going to now, that you should be asking to drive you home, that you should thank him for opening the door to his car and telling you to watch your steps as the sidewalk is broken and dirty.

But you don’t. And you let the butterflies in your stomach choose the decisions when it comes to Jung Hoseok for the rest of the night, and maybe that’s where you went wrong for the first time. You arrive home in about an hour, looking out the window and occasionally at Hoseok who bops his head and drums his fingers to the beat of the rap on the steering wheel of his beat up car.

“If you go back, could you tell Tiff I got home?” Hoseok smirks and nods, and you bite your cheek in embarrassment at his teasing expression, even when you know you didn’t do anything humiliating. “I mean, I’m going to text her anyway, but just in case she doesn’t get it or…”

“Oh, I’m certain Taehyung’s making sure she’ll get it.” Hoseok cackles as your face completely flushes, reaching over to pick up a beanie on the dashboard and throwing it at his face. The laughter dies down when you put your hand on the handle of the car door, and Hoseok places his hand on your arm, stopping you for just a second. “Hey, listen, I’m sorry, I really shouldn’t have accused you of being one of Namjoon’s tonight and–”

“Who is that guy? He can’t be that bad for you to accuse me of being his girlfriend.” You laugh, shaking your head, but Hoseok doesn’t look in the least amused.

“He’s nobody.” He dismisses you, his eyes hardening like before. “Again, I’m sorry for tonight. I should have let you explain and I shouldn’t have gone all berserk on you and Jungkook, especially not on your wrists. You should probably put some ice on those, by the way.”

You’re leave agape, your brain looking high and low for words until you stutter out a few works of thanks.

“Goodnight, Y/N.” You nod, a bashful smile on your lips, and get out of the car.


You go to sleep that night with the idea that Jung Hoseok seems too much like a dream, and not in the sense of him being too perfect for this world. Jung Hoseok’s fast, he comes and goes when he please, he’s rapid scenes consisting of memories and wishes and thoughts you never imagined would filter in your head, and he disappears just as soon as you start to understand. For almost a month, Daeyoung doesn’t speak a word about her boyfriend and his band and his parties, and you don’t even dare bring up either the midnight-haired boy you shared more than kisses with, even if it was cut too soon, or the bright-haired one you shared a few laughs with.

And just like a dream, you find yourself falling asleep slightly wishing that you’d get to continue knowing Jung Hoseok, that you’d pick up where you left off with him all over again. The ending of your dream comes to you in the form of a stressful Saturday spent staring at your laptop’s screen with dead eyes and an even more gone brain, still in your pyjamas and losing hope to ever finish this school year.

You hear movement in the living room and Daeyoung on the phone, the déja vu too much for you as you wonder if it’s about time you get to restart your so-called adventures. Who knows, perhaps this time you can find Jungkook again and finish what you began. But your ticket to wildness doesn’t come, because you hear the door to your apartment close not long after, and silence envelops you as always. You know you and Daeyoung aren’t the closest friends and if any of her other friends are available, you’re pretty much inexistent, but still.

You’re finally giving up on seeing either of the two boys that have been haunting you for days when the scenario plays in your mind all by itself – a girl in a tight dress, maybe even one of Daeyoung’s friends, sitting in the same chair you were in, with her hands all over Jungkook as he whispers in her ear the same words that had shivers rolling down your back in waves, or even worse, with her wrists between Hoseok’s fingers – what the fuck is wrong with you?

Huffing, you close your laptop roughly and throw your head back. Is it possible for you not to be the only person who’s done that? God, how could have been so naïve? Of course you’re not the only girl who threw herself at Jeon Jungkook’s feet not even an hour after meeting him, and how could you have been when he’s possibly the most handsome man you’ve ever seen? He probably does that with every girl Daeyoung brings to their gigs, hell, she probably knew exactly what was going to happen to you that night before you did.

The phone’s sudden ting! Is that what takes you out of your session of self-pity, an unknown number flashing on your screen as you read the text:

Unknown: send back two sunflower emojis if this is the pretty girl in the black dress and the purple jacket [7:32pm]

Unknown: and if this is not her, send back a cactus I’ll get the message [7:33pm]

You have a feeling you know who sent this, you can’t be too off on your guesses anyway, because who else except Jungkook saw you in your jacket that you oh-so-conveniently left in that underground bedroom when Hoseok dragged you out?

You: aren’t you getting a message anyway, smart ass? [7:34pm]

Unknown: oh I think I just hit the jackpot [7:34pm]

Unknown: but tbh I’m not the only lucky one, you just won yourself a date with me [7:35pm]

You snort with derision, but you decide that, what the hell, you’re going to play with him for a while and inflate his ego.

You: and will I have the privilege of knowing who this is before the date? [7:37pm]

You: just so I’d know what to wear, of course [7:37pm]

Unknown: does that mean you’d wear what I saw you in last time if I tell you I’m, let’s say, Taeyang [7:38pm]

Unknown: anyway, you’ll find out soon enough when you follow the address I asked a certain someone to leave on your kitchen counter [7:38pm]

Unknown: I’ll see you soon, love [7:39pm]