i would pick out this detail

anonymous asked:

If u had 2 pick 3 idols to bang simultaneously who would they be and what would they be doing?

Okay. This is hard. I’m gonna go with my mood right now but just now it would change in a heartbeat to something more sadistic. Sorry it’s so long but I’m overly detailed lol💕💕

Namjoon, Jackson, and Hobi. Namjoon and Hobi are sirs- Jackson is the baby boy they order to torture me. Jackson would tease me for hours, eating me out but never filling any of my acting holes. My mind would be completely wiped of anything but the news to cum. Namjoon and Hobi would be jerking each other off watching me suffer in the most erotic way. By the time I’m crying and desperate enough to promise to do anything if they let me cum they’re ready. Namjoon fucks my ass because he he wants to see my hope stretch around his thick cock. Hobi fucks my pussy and orders Jackson to fuck my throat. I can barely breathe, I’m overwhelmed by the pleasure of all three cocks fucking every hole on my body, and content. When they all finally pull out of me cum dripping down my chin and leaking down by legs they all carefully gather me into their arms and let me rest feeling bone deep calm and happiness.
Character Development: Recognizing a Flat Character

Anonymous asked: How do I actually recognize it when my characters are “flat” ?


Ask yourself the following questions
  • Can I imagine the character in my own head?
  • Would a reader be able to pick the character out in a lineup?
  • Can I quickly think of three words to describe the character?
  • Could a reader come up with three words to describe the character?
  • Do you know your character’s biographical details?
  • Do you know your character’s history and familial details?
  • Does your character have believable flaws?
  • Does your character have notable traits and mannerisms?
  • Does your character have hopes and dreams?
  • Does your character have a life goal before the story starts?
  • Does your character have a story goal and a believable motivation to achieve that goal?
  • Does your character have at least one complex relationship?
  • Could you describe at least one outfit or several items of clothing that your character commonly wears?
  • Do you know how your character would react to good and bad news?
  • Does your character have any verbal or vocal mannerisms or traits?
  • Do you know what your character would order at your favorite restaurant?
  • Does your character or their circumstances change in a meaningful way by the end of the story?
  • Does your character make mistakes?
  • Do you have some idea of what happens to your character after the story ends?


If you can honestly answer ‘yes’ to most of these questions, odds are good that you have a well-rounded character. However, if you answer 'no’ to more than a few of these questions, you may need to try some character development exercises to flesh them out a bit further. :)

Samurai Jack Cross Stitch

Here’s how I cross stitched Samurai Jack from a picture.



It’s a promo pic that I really love back from when the original series was broadcast. This was one of a set of three landscapes. I picked my palette using the colours in the pic, and worked out how to stitch it with this printout

I worked out a scale for how many squares on the fabric fit each cm square of the printout. I used a few thread markers on the fabric here and there to help plan it out, but I just stitched the areas going by the grid. I did not put a grid on the fabric. It’s all whole cross stitch, no fractionals, because I knew the detail would be in the outlines.

When all the cross stitch was done, I used lots of backstitch to define detail, and some simple longstitch for the Aku totems. Jacks eyes are entirely white underneath, I used black satin stitch over them to get his pupils where I wanted, and extra backstitch to define his hairline, for instance.

Matchbox for scale

The back (to the past)

Finished in a natty frame

Thanks for reading, hope you enjoyed the new series!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

To be continued or whatever…….

Vixen Muse - Jughead Jones

 Request: Hiiii ! I have a really cute idea in my mind, and I was wondering if you could write an imagine, where reader’s mom is English teacher, and she suggested Jughead to tutor him, help him with his work, improve his writing style, and when she go to her house he met his daughter, a sweet, lovely and kind River Vixen and he falls for her immediately ? <333

Well look at that I actually did something productive, I’m so sorry for the wait on this request <3 I hope it was okay :)

NOTE: PLEASE LOOK AT A POST THAT FOLLOWS THIS ON MY BLOOOGGGG <3

Words: 2,132

Warnings: Didn’t proofread, I’m honestly so dead / mild mild swearing

“You’re writing what?” Archie raised an eyebrow.

The ginger and his beanie clad best friend were sat in a booth at Pop’s, drinking the evening away with rounds of strawberry and chocolate milkshakes.

“A novel,” Jughead replied simply, sipping on his straw.

“About Jason Blossom. As in the Jason Blossom who got shot this summer?” Archie had to clarify. Jughead tried to refrain from rolling his eyes.

“Last time I checked there was only one,” He reached under the table and emerged with his laptop bag. “Although a clone would make a thrilling plot twist.”

“Are you sure that’s healthy? Writing about a murder? I mean, it’s all you’ve been talking about for the past few weeks and maybe it would be better just to drop the subject,” Archie tried to advise, ignoring the shaking of Jughead’s head in disapproval.

“You know what maybe I’d have more stuff to talk about if you were around this summer,” He scoffed, the bitter tone is his voice taking Archie by surprise. “I don’t need your opinion on the context anyway, I need help on my writing and the words I use and the structure. It all flows in my head but when I try to put those words on paper, my mind just clouds over and all I’m left with is unnecessary rambling.”

“Speaking of rambling, there’s no point talking to me about this Juggie. There’s nothing I can say to you in this situation that would actually help you out rather than annoy you with my irrelevant comments,” Archie shrugged, leaning back into the booth and slumping casually.

Jughead rested his head in his hands. He’d been suffering with writers block for over a week now and it was killing his novel. He needed something inspiring and he needed it fast. 

“What about Mrs (Y/L/N)?” Archie suggested and Jughead’s head snapped up, his attention having been caught.

“What about her?”

“Isn’t she offering small after-school tutoring sessions because the school offered to pay her?” Archie took out his phone and pulled up the school website, showing Jughead the ‘news’ page which informed them of the opening.

“Why would she even do that?” Jughead took the phone off of Archie and quickly scanned the article, picking out key information like contact details which he proceeded to write down on a napkin.

“I think the school is offering her a pretty decent amount, they’re having to secure their teacher reputation record because of…. ya know,” Archie trailed off. “Anyways, she’s a pretty nice teacher right? Smart too, I’m sure she’ll give you all the artsy, angsty advice you need to fuel your supposed novel,” He reached over the table and took his phone back, leaving Jughead to think things through.


“Mrs (Y/L/N)?” Jughead stayed behind after class, now standing at the side of the teachers desk. The aforementioned woman looked up through her glasses and smiled warmly at the boy.

“Yes Jughead, how can I help?” She put down the papers she was grading and gave him her full attention.

“Well, it’s nothing really just something stupid,” Jughead scratched the back of his neck awkwardly. He was almost ashamed in himself for not overcoming his difficulties alone and having to ask an English teacher for help. Archie was probably right anyway, the concept was stupid. 

“Please Jughead, I’m sure it’s not as stupid as you say,” Her voice was smooth and reassuring. Jughead slung his arm so that his backpack fell off of his shoulder and onto the floor. He took out his drafted manuscript, which had been kept under lock and key for weeks. He wouldn’t let anyone see his work until he was sure it was up to his own standards.

Mrs (Y/L/N) didn’t seem to be giving away much with her facial expressions as she nonchalantly skimmed through the pages, nodding her head and humming. After a few minutes of awkward silence, she put the pages down and looked up at the nervous brooding boy before her.

“W-What do you think? It’s just an early draft, I just wanted to know if you could maybe help me improve it. I don’t mean to waste your time or anything though, of course!” Jughead scrambled to pick up the manuscript and shove it back in his bag, refusing to meet the English teacher’s eyes.

“It’s great Jones, very interesting take on the whole ordeal. Very real,” She reached out a hand, stopping him in his path. Mrs (Y/L/N) stood up and neatly tucked in her chair before coming round to the front of the desk and perching on the edge. “I’d love to discuss it with you in more detail, if you would be okay with that?” She had already pulled out her diary from her desk and started to scribble some notes down in the dates of this week.

“Yes, that would be great. Umm when and where Miss?” Jughead didn’t want to sound too eager but he couldn’t help but feel a flood of relief.

“I’d have you come in during a lunchtime but sadly I have reports to do and papers to mark for the seniors. I’ll send you my address and contact details over school email okay, we’ll try and meet for afternoons for a week and see where we go from there,” The teacher scribbled all of this down whilst Jughead just made a simple mental note. He was on a laptop 24/7 anyway, he didn’t need to be promoted to check his emails.


“She must really want to help you then,” Veronica laughed as Jughead explained his daily English plan also now known as ‘his excuse for not turning up to group days at Pop’s for the next month or so’.

“Guys she’s just interested, it’s actually quite nice to be offered some professional support considering it’s been weighing me down,” Jughead sighed, picking at his fries. The Sad Breakfast Club were all gathered by the bleachers eating their lunch and just sticking to their casual weekday routine. 

“You’re making it sound as if she’s your therapist,” Kevin pointed out and the others nodded with smirks, much to Jughead’s annoyance.

“Wait, doesn’t she have a kid?” Betty perked up, finally chiming into the conversation after just simply observing. There was a brief moment of silence as everyone contemplated her question.

“I think so…” Veronica didn’t sound so sure.

“If she does, she probably goes to another high school. I’ve never seen or heard of anyone like that around Riverdale high,” Jughead simply shook it off. Boy, he didn’t know what he was getting himself into.


He’d been knocking for almost five minutes now. Perhaps it was the determination to just finish the chapter that kept him standing at the (Y/L/N) doorstep that Wednesday afternoon but it was slowly seeping away, seeing as nobody was willing to answer. Or maybe it was fate, because if he left a little earlier, there was a chance he may have never met her.

“Hello?” That honey voice Jughead recognised came from behind him but it sounded even sweeter, soft and innocent almost. Perhaps even angelic if you wanted to go that far. He turned around, his expression irritated but his features quickly softened when he took in your appearance.

You were stood there in all your beauty, gym bag slung over shoulder and River Vixen uniform proudly on display. Your hair was tied in a tight high ponytail that could rival Betty Cooper’s, adorned with blue and gold ribbons. 

“Um, hi. I’m sorry, do I have the wrong house?” Jughead stuttered, his face changing from pale to tomato red very quickly.

“Oh no, this is the right house. You must be the boy my mother told me about,” Her confused expression instantly shifted into a warm smile, her eyes bright and welcoming. That smile could melt an iceberg. “She said you’d be stopping by, for help with your poem or novel or whatever it was. She’s out right now getting the groceries but luckily I have my spare key so you can come on in and binge some snacks with me,” She giggled heartily, skipping past him and unlocking the door. She beckoned Jughead to follow her as she dropped her gym bag off by the stairwell and ran into the kitchen, emerging with bags of popcorn.

Jughead grinned, following her into the living room where they both sat down on the same couch and started to talk.

She had only recently moved to town to stay with her Mum. Her parents were divorced and her Dad wanted time alone with his new family so they could settle in together, to your dismay. Thanks to her prestigious background, Cheryl had been quick to accept her as a River Vixen but other than her five minutes of fame at the audition, she’d purposefully sunken into the background of Riverdale High, keeping a low profile and fulfilling her role as a wallflower.

Jughead noticed how expressive she was. She would move her hands when she talked, waving them all over the place and gesturing. She could tell the whole story with her bright eyes, which leaked with emotion and passion. The words she used and her way of phrasing things filled Jughead’s head with ideas. The inspiration he’d been looking for was right in front of him and it hit him quick how fast he was falling head first for the charming Vixen.


“And then I told her that it wasn’t fair that ethnic minorities are portrayed that way in this show but she decide- Jughead? Are you alive? Helloooo Earth to Juggie?” You waved your hand in front of his face since the boy seemed to be lost in a trance. The two of you had been talking for almost an hour now and you’d been concealing your blush whenever he stared at you. It was undeniable he was kind of cute and different to most other boys you’d met. To him though you were probably the perfect girl next door. Untouchable and innocent. Not with your history, no. Nobody is ever perfect in Riverdale.

“Sorry I was just thinking about how pretty you look,” Jughead smirked, the confidence coming from nowhere. Jughead even looked surprised himself at his comment. You felt flustered and you looked down so he couldn’t see your rosy cheeks. So… he wants to play huh?

You scooted closer to him on the couch, slowly draping your legs over his lap and leaning back onto a pillow lazily. He was looking at you, eyes wide. You batted your eyelashes innocently, smiling up at him in a way that could only be described as… seductive?

You had no idea where this mood came from and neither did he. Some harmless flirting didn’t hurt nobody though. 

Within the next five minutes you were snuggled into his side talking about your day whilst he was stroking your legs and wrapping his fingers around the curls in your hair. There was just some kind of comfort and butterflies you felt when so close to him and it was clear he felt the same.

“Am I really pretty?” You suddenly mumbled, rubbing over your stomach subconsciously. You’d always been insecure about your weight and it had been your weakness when it came to dealing with high school bitches.

Jughead leaned back and gave you a look. “I’m being honest when I say you’re honestly so pretty, and it’s not all about your looks. You have a great personality from what I can tell. I mean, I can’t really judge you yet but based on the cover of your book you’re funny and charismatic and I would love to take you out on a date,” The last part was barely audible but you’d heard every single word. You sat up quick, mouth wide open. You began to fidget with your hands like you always did when the words just wouldn’t come out. You could just whisper.

“I would love that,” You stared at his soft lips and he blushed, staring right back at yours. You scooted closer once more, leaning in.

“I’M HOME HONEY!” The front door slammed shut and the sound of bags being dumped on the floor was heard from the hallway. The two of you jumped apart quickly as your Mum walked in to find the two of you, sitting on opposite ends of the couch with red faces. “Hey guys, I bought pizza! If you want to stay for dinner Jughead just let me know, (Y/N) can you help me unpack these groceries please,” She smiled at the both of you before walking off to the kitchen.

You reluctantly sat up but before you left the room, you turned around to meet Jughead Jones’ eyes. You smiled bashfully.

“It’s a date.”


i’m so sorry that i’m slow and ew, i hope this was okay + didn’t proofread because i’m dead. Will read tomorrow :)

EVERYTHING

@mrsjugheadjonesthethird @jvghead-jones-iii @thisisnotseriousbusiness @am-i-alive-yet @nafa1604 @khaleeisclifford @mrs-jughead-jones @vegaslodge @tasteofswallowedwords

JUGHEAD
@siaralovesgaming

RIVERDALE
@theselfishllama  

Paint & Distractions

Feyre tries to paint, Rhys tries to distract her.

Pure post-ACOWAR fluff to make up for Sacrifices of War. Also posted on AO3.

If someone had ever told her the High Lord of the Night Court would be such a creature of the sun, she would have laughed. Now, instead of laughing, a small smile played over her lips as she watched her mate, night incarnated, stretching in a patch of sunshine like a content cat. For a day in late spring, it was unusually warm, the first real warm day of the year. Rhys had taken it as an excuse to get rid of his tunic as warm rays of the sun warmed his broad chest and lazily spread wings.

Feyre wasn’t sure if this was for her benefit or if he got sidetracked in his quest to distract her from painting. He’d appeared not long after she’d set up her things to finish a piece she’d been working on over the last few days. It was a gift for Rhys so she kept it carefully angled away from him. She suspected that he appearing wherever she and that painting were had something to do with the fact that she refused to share it with him. It would’ve been easier to stay in her studio where she could at least lock him out and put up a ward so he couldn’t winnow in either, but the day was much too nice for that. She was almost finished anyway. Besides, Rhys was so distracted with distracting her, the painting was all but forgotten.

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[GOT7 Reacts] to you wearing this dress

requests open

He is about to take you out to a fancy restaurant when you answer the door you are wearing this… 

Mark: When you open the door his mouth would be open wide and just stare at you slightly biting his lip, not believing that this goddess in front of him was his girlfriend. “You are the most beautiful person on this planet” he would say as you grab his arm.Then he would tuck your hair behind your ears and hold your face between his hand and plant a heavy, hot kiss. 

JB: As soon as the door opens Jaebum’s mouth spreads into a dark smile and looks at you with lusty eyes. He pulls you forward firm but gently, and kisses you holding you by the waist. “The only way you could look better is if you weren’t wearing anything at all.” He purrs into your ear almost looking to pull you into your apartment rather than out of it.

Jackson: He wouldn’t even be able to contain his excitement when you step out he picks you up into a hug and twirls you around. He would be yelling “This is my girlfriend, everyone please look at her!” A few people in the hallway would smile and acknowledge your beauty “Ya you! don’t look at her too long, MY girlfriend” 

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A Father’s Love

Word Count: 2142

Characters: Spencer x Reader, Jude (OC), Joplin (OC)

Warnings: A case of childhood pneumonia, homesickness, fluff, Spencer doubting himself. Please forgive me if I missed anything!

Summary: While Spencer is away on a case, he experiences a bad case of homesickness when your kids are sick.

A/N: This is actually a rewrite of a fic I wrote over on my SPN blog (@hanny-writes-spn) which I then turned into a Spencer fic. I know this is kind of lazy writing, but I wanted to give you guys some material to read… I hope you still enjoy it… :) (Also, I apologize for the names of the kiddos - I’ve been listening to a lot of Janis Joplin lately and just fell in love with the name Jude after watching Jude Law in The Aviator this afternoon… lol)

****

It was the middle of the night, way past your kids’ bedtime, and yet you were still laid out on your living room couch. Your 4 year old son, Jude, was sick with a cold and refused to leave your side, along with your one year old daughter, Joplin. Of course they had both gotten sick at the same time while Spencer was away on a case.

You and Spencer had been married for five years now. You met when you used to work at the library down the street from your apartment. It took him almost a year to approach you and ask you out on a date. Then that one date turned into more dates. And the rest was history.

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Illusion of Choice (M)

Originally posted by tbhobi

Summary: You’ve grown up with the Jeons, Jungmin and Jungkook, for as long as you can remember, your parents being very close. But little did you know that this is because you are in fact arranged to be married to the Jeon heir, Jungmin. However, a tragedy causes Jungkook to take up his brother’s mantle, and that includes becoming your fiancé.

Word Count: 7.3k+

Genre: Heir!AU, Arranged Marriage!AU, angst, fluff, smut

Warnings: Smut and mentions (but not depictions) of death

A/N: Honestly one of the thoughts going through my head while writing this was “What’s the best way to make the readers suffer?” I’m not even sure if I’m kidding.

You always wondered why your parents let you have boy best friends. After all, being from such an affluent family, as well as being the oldest child, you will be expected to marry someone for the good of the company. Letting you be around boys would just risk you falling for someone that you can’t have.

These are the thoughts running through your mind as your parents call you up to their study on the eve of your 18th birthday, and you know that the day has come. They would finally tell you who you were betrothed to. You stand in front of your father’s big wooden desk, listening to their spiel about your duties as the heir to their company, only listening for one thing: a name. However, what leaves your father’s lips is not what you expected. The words “Jeon Jungmin.”

Jeon Jungmin, whom you had grown up with, along with his brother Jungkook. You had always been closer to Jungkook, having been closer to him in age, but Jungmin would always show you his drawings and sneak you an extra cookie at the dinner table.

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Yuri On Ice -  as understood solely through other people’s tumblr posts

[I have never watched Yuri On Ice, so this is just what I’ve figured out:]

Yuri is a competitive figure skater, who is, I assume, on ice.  He would like to win a medal.  Also he fell in love with another figure skater for being good at skating.

Hot Blond - who I will mentally refer to as Winner McWinnerson, the Moon Moon of skating, because that is the only name I have managed to pick up for him - sees Yuri inexplicably pole dancing in a garden at night and falls in love with him, a la Cinderella, but with more pole dancing.

They… meet?  Further details are mysterious, but I am guessing they also skate together and I am informed they definitely kiss twice, probably, for a 30th of a second as captured by this series of still frames, appended all over tumblr.

The only other character of note is the confusingly named Yuri2 - a second, smaller, angrier Yuri.  He is coached by Hot Blond and is probably only metaphorically his son.  He is also probably not related to Yuri, but it’s hard to tell, and I am open to the possibility they they both just have dicks for parents.

Throughout the series the aforementioned skaters all compete a lot, except for Moon Moon, who is busy coaching and already owns all of the medals.  

(More notably, a bunch of real life ice skaters became fans of the show, and tweeted the heck out of it, which was adorable and also meant several macho sports websites were blanketed with gay anime screencaps, the best  of all possible outcomes.)

The series is won by Yuri2.  I don’t actually know that, but I am pretty sure Yuri doesn’t win, so I am filling in the blanks with the only other character I can remember.

In the final episode, Winner McWinnerson proposes to Yuri, but also says he will only marry him after he wins a gold medal, because Winner McWinenrson dates winners, okay?  They agree to compete against each other for Yuri’s hand in marriage, and I can only assume this means the second season will conclude triumphantly, with Yuri on an Olympic altar, marrying himself.

……..how’d I do?

HVFF Chicago 2017 Wrap Up

What an amazing weekend! First, I got to spend it with my dear friend @triciaolicity​. She generously let me stay at her house, which gave us ample more time to talk about Arrow and our lives as wives & mothers. We are two Irish ladies who love to sit around a kitchen table and share stories. She is such a blessing in my life. I love you!

Second, HVFF Chicago was AWESOME. Seriously great. I tweeted out as much information as I could, but I do have a few more details that cannot fit in a 144 character limit.

This was my third convention, not including SDCC. I realize there are so many of you who would love to go, but may never get the chance to for a variety of reasons. So, all the goodies I picked up at the convention I will be giving away.  It’s just my small way of trying to bring HVFF to you. The giveaways will start the week before 5x20 airs. I’ll give away something each week (5x20-5x23). I thought it’d be a fun way to wrap up the season together.

Back to HVFF though. Let’s dig in!

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// RIGHT THERE

Pairing: Wonwoo - You

Summary: Wonwoo is an art student that hates drama class until his homework gets a little bit exciting.

Originally posted by wonwoowho

As much as Wonwoo loved art he just couldn’t stand his drama class, most of it was because of his annoying teacher, her voice was always filled with pretentiousness, her comments were always filled with judgement, she could never say ‘good job’ or ‘I like what you did there’ instead she said stuff like ‘that was nice but you got this wrong’ there was always a but and he hated it; she was also always late since she was a teacher at another school. Everyone else was really into this class because she was a director and a very good one, or that’s what everyone said, he had never seen her work, he rarely went to the theatre, just a few times as a kid with his parents but never on his own.

“Today I’m excited” His teacher said, he almost rolled his eyes at her comment ‘Now what?’ He thought “My favorite actress is doing a different monologue for three weeks and I want you all to go” He stopped listening after that knowing that she would email them the details later, she always did, he wasn’t excited at all but at least that meant no real homework for three weeks.

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Model in the Making Part 1

Summary: (College!AU) Y/N and Bucky, one of her close friends (whom she might like a teeny tiny bit), realise they might be able to help each other out with each their own assignments, much to the amusement of the rest of the group.

Author’s Note: Yes, guys, another series. It’s partially inspired by ‘A Lesson in Love’ by @buckyywiththegoodhair, which you should definitely read if you haven’t already because it is so damn good. 

WIP List

Chapter List

Masterlist

Originally posted by theimpossibleg1rl


Part One

“Just ask her already!” Steve mutters, elbowing Bucky’s side. You turn around from the hob just in time to see Bucky glare daggers at Steve.

“Ask who, what?” you ask, picking up a nearby towel and drying your hands.

“Well, I need, uh, I need help with an art project,” Bucky says. He explains his request in greater detail. Each word he says causes the hair on your arms to stand up and your cheeks to warm up.

“Uh…” you stutter, trying to think of a response. “Surely there are plenty of other girls who would be more…. suited to the task,” you say, giving him a small, tight-lipped smile, before making your way out of the room.

“Wait! Maybe we can help each other out,” he calls. You stop in your tracks, turning around.

“I’m listening.”


The sheer ring of a bell wakes you from your haze of concentration, and you look down at what you’ve drawn. Wrinkling your nose in disgust, you quickly place the sheet of paper in your folder and close it. You pick up your supplies and put them in your bag, before zipping it up and slipping the bag on. You give the instructor a brief nod and a tight-lipped smile as you walk past her. Glancing at your watch, you see it’s half past eleven.

You step out through the door of the building and breath in the sharp, cool, night air. It’s dark. You can just about see the streetlights on the main street from where you are, but you’re still a fair bit away. You pull out your phone.

You press the contact on your phone and hold it close to your ear as you hear the familiar buzz, telling you the phone is ringing.

“Hey, what’s up?”

The sound coming from your phone startles you.

“Uh, hey, Steve,” you reply, practically seeing the grin on his face. You can’t help but smile. “What are you guys up to?”

You can hear Bucky and Sam doing stuff in the background, and knowing it’s Friday, God only knows what they have planned.

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Assassin - Steve Rogers x Reader

Request: HI!!! i love Lift sm it’s so good may i request something where fem!reader is an assassin and is using steve’s apartment in brooklyn as a sniper nest to kill a bad guy bc her intel told her that he’s not going back from a mission until next week but steve comes home early bc the mission was easier than they all thought and he finds the reader just looking through her sniper and stuff gets awkward? Thank you ily!!!

Warnings: None.

Words: 1 585

A/N: First of all, thank you so much for requesting. Secondly, I kind of went off the tracks and made this into some kind of sappy drabble and I apologize! :’)

TAKING REQUESTS

Originally posted by oursisthefvry


She knelt down before the door, glancing behind her quickly before turning her focus to the gold-colored lock before her. She dug out her lock picking gear and placed them in the keyhole, twisting them in place with ease due to much practice, the door creaking open.

The place was just like she had imagined yet all the details were still new to her. Her eyes followed the colorless photographs hung up on the wall, the flowery wallpaper and the old furniture. It seemed out of time yet a few things would stand out. The kitchen appliances for a starter, the laptop on the kitchen table for a second.

She wanted to ask headquarters if they were sure he was away, but she didn’t want to question them. She had done too much of that during her past missions. She just wanted to be sure, but she ended up making a fool out of herself as headquarters were always right.

“I’m at my location. Getting in position now.” She informed through her earpiece upon seeing the living room window. She swung her gear off of her back and opened up the long and narrow bag.

Copy that, Alpha. Target arriving in T minus 4 minutes. Team Omega at stand by.”

She screwed the tripod base until whole again, propping it in front of the window before starting to put her sniper rifle together. She was swift, knowing exactly where each piece was going. She placed it on the stand and lowered the aim for the window on the fifth floor in the building across from the one she was in.

Her heartbeat slowed down as she took long and deep breaths. Her aim was good, her gear was in place and her senses sharp. All she had to do was wait for the target.

She had only accepted the mission as she felt it was so personal. She wasn’t much for working in big cities. It came with too many complications which meant she had to take extra many precautions. It became tiring in the long run, but the mission she was on was far too personal for her to rely on someone else to take care of it.

As she sat there, right eye scanning through the scope, she was suddenly put in a headlock. She inhaled sharply and her hands flew to the strong arm wrapped under her chin.

“Who the hell are you?” He asked, relief washing through her at the same time as embarrassment.

“Steve.” She choked out, her voice strained from the lack of air she was receiving. “It’s me.”

He dropped her and she stumbled forward, gripping onto the wall for support as she coughed. “Y/N?” He said, grabbing her shoulder and forcing her to spin around. His tense muscles eased as soon as he saw her face at the same time as his curiosity and confusion peaked. “What on god’s green earth are you doing here?”

“What are you doing here?” She tried to retort as if she was in any position to do that. To her luck, Steve was Steve, so he answered her question.

“I came home early from my mission. What’s your excuse for breaking into my apartment and standing by the window with a rifle?” He crossed his arms. She didn’t want to tell him, and she tried to ignore headquarters constant commands in her ear to not tell him, but she couldn’t do that to Steve.

She picked the earpiece out of her ear, walking over to the kitchen counter where an old glass of water stood, dropping the device in it and watching it sink to the bottom before turning back to Steve.

“While you were away, we were given reliable information about a spy who was targeting you. My first guess was Hydra but I honestly don’t know. Either way, we’ve been tracking the fake name he’s been using and followed the purchase of an apartment to right there…” She pointed across the street to the apartment in question. “I was given orders to keep this off the radar, your radar, to be exact. You weren’t supposed to know about the spy or that I had been here to take care of him.”

“So if I have someone on my tail, they don’t even let me know anymore? They keep it secret?” He question, rightfully upset.

“Look, Steve… I know you don’t like the way we handle things compared to yours and the Avengers ways, but I have orders, even if I don’t have someone listening to them.” She glanced towards the dysfunctional earpiece. “I need to do this… For your safety and for my job.”

He didn’t know what to say to that. Y/N and him had a thing in the past, which meant roughly six months before, and although their feeling had far from gone away or as much as faded, they couldn’t stay together. Y/N was dedicated to the service she was in, and Steve was against her killing-methods. Work had in the end been what caused them to fall apart, no matter how much they both hated it, that was the only reason.

“I’ve told you that there will always be a spot for you with the Avengers. You don’t have to continue this life of murdering.”

“Like you haven’t killed a couple of bad guys during your time.” She argued, her voice low.

“I’ve never worked for an organization that kills for money. If they could afford you, you’d kill cheating husbands for grieving wife’s. Sometimes, the lives you take, do not deserve to be taken. You know that your organization is not what it used to be… They might still have some trace of what once was a faction of SHIELD, but you know that they’ve changed, don’t you? I’m sure they’ve ordered you to kill people. People you thought were innocent.”

“Stop.” She put her arms up in defense.

“This is your way out, Y/N.” He pointed to the submerged earpiece. “You can work with the Avengers.”

“I just don’t see how I would fit in with you.” She explained, a battle between two sides going on in her head.

“And so you think you fit in where you are now?” He had a suggesting tone to his voice that caused her eyebrows to furrow together. “Take a look.”

He pointed at her rifle. She eyed him before turning around, slowly leaning down to the scope and centering the window across the street.

“Oh god…” She gasped, standing up and placing her hand over her mouth.

“That safe source your superiors talked about was probably stolen, SHIELD information. “Steve looked to the building beside his own where Rhodes stood in the window. “He moved here after I suggested the neighborhood. SHIELD keeps track of him, of course… And I’m willing to bet my life that your little organization knew that it was no spy that moved in across the street from here.”

She couldn’t find the words in her to tell him something, anything. Her mind was a blank slate.

“Want to know what my mission was?” He questioned like she would have a choice in whether he would tell the answer or not. “Locating a leak within SHIELD that caused Natasha to have her cover blown over in Europe.”

“Bosnia…” Y/N breathed out, remembering having the mission given to her to go to Bosnia and take out an elite Hydra agent, but turning it down for Steve’s spy.

“You see? They’re lying straight to your face.”

“They might as well be Hydra…” Her brain was trying to puzzle it all together.

Steve took a step closer. “We don’t know that, but whatever they are, they’re far from SHEILD. You could be the one who takes them down. You can live in the Stark Tower, or we could go off the grid for a while…”

She shouldn’t have paid attention to it in the moment, but she couldn’t help it. “We?”

His cheeks flushed red. “Well, you and I could go to one of T'Challa’s many hideouts around the world… Reconnect.”

“Is that the word they use for it these days?” She tried to be flirty but he saw the tears well up in her eyes, realization crashing down on her like a harsh wave.

“Oh no, baby… Come here.” He wrapped his arms around her and pressed her against his chest as her first tear managed to slip. God was it heartbreaking to see her cry. He had known her for years, and she had never allowed to show herself weak, ever. She needed to find out she had been working for the bad guys all along to finally break. “It’s going to get better, you hear me? I’m here. We’re going to be together after all. We can take that trip to China that we always wanted, walk the entire Wall…”

She chuckled against him, pressing her check flat against his chest. “You’re so dumb.”

“You love it though.” He smiled. “Admit it.”

She would never.

She looked up into his eyes, hoping he would forgive her for all the times they had fought over her wanting to stay true to the organization she was hired by. She hoped he would forgive her for all the people she had killed. She hoped she would forgive herself for both of those. Perhaps it would take time, but it seemed as Steve was willing to give her that.

anonymous asked:

Prompt: It's Klaus birthday in NOLA and Rebekah secretly sent an invitation for Caroline, because the siblings have a secret bet going on about who's present gonna be the best. After 1000 what does one give to someone who can get whatever he wants :D

Kol is sipping a margarita, splayed out on one of the leather couches in their lounge room when she gets back from her shopping expedition in New Orleans.

The radio is on, playing one of those inane pop tunes that Kol for some reason seemed to love, and his foot is swaying lazily to the beat as he stares up at the fan whirring lazily on the ceiling above them.

“What on Earth are you doing?” She asks of Kol, whose eyes flick towards her, a self satisfied smile creeping across his face when he sees her.

“Celebrating.” Kol says with great relish, taking a sip of his margarita. “Can I offer you a drink, sister?”

“Knowing you you’ve probably spiked it with some sort of sleeping potion, so it’ll be a hard pass this time.” She replies with disdain, remembering the last time Elijah had accepted a drink from Kol, and had then promptly broken out in hives that had taken quite a few days to disappear, and only with the assistance of a witch that owed Elijah quite a few favours.

Kol had ended up with a dagger in his chest for a month before Elijah had deigned to make amends with him.

“God you’re all no fun.” Kol mumbles under his breath, sitting up on the couch and planting his booted feet on the floor. “And since you never asked what I was celebrating, I’m going to tell you anyway.”

“Of course you are.” She remarks dryly, tapping her foot against the floor, cursing the humidity that seemed to hang over New Orleans at this time of the year like an unpleasant shroud.

Already she can feel her hair sticking to the back of her neck, her clothes pressing to her skin unpleasantly. Maybe she could go for a swim a little later.

“Well, as you well know Bekah, Nik’s birthday is coming up. And I know that we all try and one up each other when it comes to buying him a gift. God knows why considering how many times he’s daggered us all… If anything he should be buying us presents to make up for it.” Kol is just thinking out loud now, and she can’t help but sigh, massaging her temples.

In fact, Nik had brought her plenty of gifts to make up for the whole daggering thing, knowing that she was materialistic at heart and was far more likely to respond positively to that than murmured platitudes and constant apologies.

She wouldn’t give up her designer wardrobe, villa in Tuscany, and private island for anything.

“Get to the point.” She snarls as Kol continues to mumble under his breath.

“Fine. I just want to tell you and Elijah that you shouldn’t bother trying this year, because I’ve got him the present to end all presents. The perfect gift.”

“You do?” She asks incredulously, because Kol’s idea of a perfect gift is usually a stripper or a gift voucher to some obscure store.

“I do.” Kol says with another smug smile. “So just don’t even go there this year Bekah. You’re not going to beat me!”

With that, Kol drains the rest of his margarita, falling back to lie on the couch once more.

Justin Bieber starts playing on the radio, and as she marches out of the room to escape the stupidity of the song, an idea begins to form in her mind.

Kol wasn’t going to know what hit him.


“I could get used to this.” Caroline Forbes remarks with a laugh, reclining on the pure white sand as the sun beats fiercely down on her skin.

“I’m not sure about the heat.” Enzo has propped himself up on her elbow next to her, Ray Bans covering most of his features as he takes in the crystalline blue water. “Although it is a beautiful corner of the world.”

She’d been dying to come to Australia for some time now, and she and Enzo had spent the last few months wandering the massive island continent. As she very quickly discovered, there was so much more to Australia than the cosmopolitan city of Sydney.

They went dune boarding at Port Stephens, a little coastal town three hours north east of the capital of NSW. They spent a week on the Gold Coast, checking out the bars and clubs that peppered the famous city.

They spent another week on a cattle ranch in the far flung part of Queensland that no one else ever seemed to go to, made friends with the locals as they had to revert back to animal blood momentarily.

The Northern Territory was amazing, as had been Western Australia. The Barossa Valley had been a favourite, rich wine country with vineyards stretching as far as the eye could see.

Enzo had loved Melbourne, loved the coffee culture and all the hip little laneway bars that were only discovered if you stumbled across them by accident. Someone had suggested the Whitsundays for their next destination, and after looking at some pictures online she and Enzo had very quickly booked one of the resorts there.

The past few days had been spent snorkelling on the Great Barrier reef, reclining on the deck of the sailboat they had hired, swimming in clear blue waters, and sampling some of the amazing food at the various restaurants dotted around the island.

She thanked her lucky stars that she technically couldn’t put on weight now that she was dead and all, so had absolutely no guilt about helping herself to a second or third plate of food at dinner time, washing it down with some wine.

“That it is.” She agrees quietly with Enzo, sipping at her bottle of water, watching clouds scud across the cornflower blue sky.  

Someone whistles at them from the shore line, and she raises her hand in acknowledgement towards the skipper of their boat, sitting up and beginning to gather her belongings, shoving them back into the canvas beach bag she carried with her.

She dusts the sane off her as she and Enzo make their way over to the boat, ankle deep in the cool water before they’re being handed up onto the deck.

When she gets back to their room, she’s surprised to see an envelope addressed to her. She hadn’t given anyone an address while she’d been travelling, and so she approaches the envelope with a healthy dose of caution.

Picking it up between two fingers, she gingerly breaks the wax seal on the back, pulling out the parchment within and unfolding it quickly.

Caroline,

My brother is celebrating his birthday this year. Although I’m not particularly eager to see you anytime soon, I know that Nik would like it. Details are within.

Rebekah

She can’t help but cover her mouth, snorting with laughter as she hands the folded up piece of paper to Enzo to read.

“Rather direct, isn’t she?”

“Yes, that always has been her m.o.” She replies with another soft laugh, eyes scanning the contents of the invitation before tossing it onto the bed.

“So are you going to go?” Enzo questions curiously, leaning over to read the invitation as well.

“I don’t know. Maybe?” She answers it like a question, becuase to be honest she’s still not half sure herself.

Enzo raises an eyebrow at that.

“Maybe? That’s a complete 180 from last year when it was a flat out no. Could it be that your feelings towards the big bad hybrid have changed?”

She hits Enzo on the arm good naturedly.

“It’s not like that. It’ll just be… good to see him.” She trails off lamely, knowing that it’s a pathetic excuse if ever she’s heard one.

To be honest, she’d been thinking about Klaus a lot more lately. She hadn’t seen him in almost a decade, the last time being quite a memorable weekend they’d spent together in Tuscany, when they hadn’t done much more than have sex and drink wine from teh surrounding vineyards.

Most of the weekend had been spent in bed, Klaus determined to show her just how good they were with each other, which they were. Klaus continued to be the best sex of her lfie, and if the infuriating smile that he wore on his face every time he brought her to climax was anything to go by, he knew it as well.

But they both had other priorities. She was content to continue her nomadic lifestyle, discovering some of the far flung and forgotten corners of the world, Enzo in tow more often than not.

Klaus had settled into his life in New Orleans, ruling the city with an iron fist, his siblings still with him.

She’d never been. Setting foot into his city would be sending a message, that she was willing to entertain the idea of a forever with him. And she hadn’t been ready for that yet. But now…

“I can see that your mind has already been made up.” Enzo replies with a slow smile. “Are you sure?”

She just takes a deep breath, squaring her shoulders.

“I’m going to need a dress.”


The party below them is in full swing, members of the supernatural community mingling in the courtyard below them.

Kol leans on the balcony beside her, hair swept artfully away from his forehead, tuxedo clinging to the firm lines of his body. He sips at his drink, glancing at her for a moment.

“Did you even try to get him something this year?” He asks with a chuckle. “You’ve been surprisingly tight lipped this year sister.”

She smooths down the front of her black party dress, raising her own glass to her lips as she takes a drink.

“I tried something different this year. Apparently it didn’t work out.” She notes with a shrug, downing the rest of her drink and setting the now empty glass on the tray of a passing waiter.

Kol stares at her for a long moment, trying to figure out the meaning behind her words.

“Shame.” He pronounces with a shrug. “You’re usually much better at this. Did you order something online and it didnt’ arrive on time or something?”

She just smiles to herself, phone buzzing in her hand.

“Something like that.”

And then she thumbs into the message, reading the two words displayed across her screen.

She’s here.

The doorman of course, had been under strict instructions to keep an eye out for Caroline. He’d been provided with a picture of the baby vampire, one from her Mystic Falls days where she’d been polished and primped and wearing a ballgown.

All the same, Caroline Forbes was rather hard to miss, even dressed in plain clothes with her hair in disarray. She would know because she’d seen the girl in such a state during one memorable run in at the MIkaelson mansion in Mystic Falls.

It hadn’t taken a genius to know exactly why Caroline was doing the walk of shame at such an infernal hour of the morning. The younger girl had blushed, hair falling into her face as she had whispered a soft goodbye before letting herself out into the weak early morning light.

She had mentioned this as an aside to Kol, who had promptly teased Nik about it. Nik had snapped his neck and they hadn’t mentioned it since.

“Am I boring you?” Kol’s voice abruptly interrupts her train of thought, and she locks her phone, eyes flicking up towards her brother, who’s staring at her like she’s just grown a second head. “Where did you go just now?”

She just draws herself up to her full height, snagging another flute of champagne.

“Don’t count your chickens before they hatch brother.”


The doorman is staring at her strangely. She can’t imagine why, because she most certainly does not have lipstick on her teeth (she checked). The navy blue party dress that she’s wearing makes her tanned legs look a mile long, and accentuates the curves of her body.

Her hair, which she had spent a ridiculous amount of time on, was twisted into an elegant up do, and she was wearing a necklace that Klaus had gifted to her during their time in Tuscany.

The short of it was, she looked a million bucks.

“Caroline Forbes.” A voice drawls as she steps into the entrance of the courtyard.

Rebekah Mikaelson hasn’t changed a bit, that bored expression on her face ever present. She’s wearing a killer pair of Manolos and she can’t help but eye off the striking shoes with a bit of jealousy.

“Rebekah.” She finally answers, swallowing around the lump in her throat as Rebekah just smiles, pressing a drink into her hand.

“I didn’t think you were going to come.” Rebekah sips at her own drink as she turns, moving more towards the crowd of people, a few of whom eye them off with barely concealed curiosity. “You know, since I didn’t receive your RSVP or anything like that.”

“Sorry.” She replies to the older vampire, smoothing a hand over her hair. “I was undecided until quite recently. I did send word but apparently you didn’t get the message in time.”

“No matter.” Rebekah waves a hand dismissively. “You’re here now and that’s all that matters.”

Rebekah tilts her gaze upwards towards the balcony, and she follows the line of the Original’s gaze. Kol Mikaelson has a drink in her hand, and is gaping at her with his mouth hanging open rather unattractively.

Within split seconds his gaze lands on Rebekah, eyes narrowing as he raises his drink towards his sister in a toast for some reason.

“What was that about?” She asks Rebekah, who lifts one shoulder in an elegant shrug as the crowd clears momentarily and she spots Klaus from across the room.

He looks entirely at ease in this particular setting, his tuxedo clinging sharply to the lines of his broad shoulders, pants tailored to within an inch of their life. He’s got his head thrown back in laughter as he talks to another man, drink in hand and looking like he doesn’t have a care in the world.

“What on earth has he done to his hair?” She hisses towards Rebekah in horror. “It looks atrocious.”

She sees Klaus stiffen at that, and curses his superior Hybrid hearing as his gaze suddenly lands on her, eyes dark.

It’s perhaps the first time that she’s seen him truly caught off guard, and she can’t help but raise her glass to her lips, not realising just how much liquid courage she’d need to fortify herself with for this particular encounter.

The crowd seems to part before Klaus as he moves towards her, Rebekah giving her a gentle nudge, encouraging her to meet him halfway.

If that wasn’t a metaphor for their relationship, she didn’t know what was.

Klaus stops before her, gaze indecipherable as he reaches out, traces a gentle hand along her cheekbone.

The weight of the curious gazes around her is heavy, and she can’t help but lean into his touch as he bends, taking her hand in his, pressing a gentle kiss to it.

He straightens, and his smile is like the sun.

“Hello Caroline.”


It feels strange, being on Klaus’ arm. For a moment, she can’t help but think that Klaus is showing her off, demonstrating his power.

Until he begins introducing her to people, a hand resting dangerously on her lower back, thumb rubbing circles into where her dress does not cover up the skin of her back.

He seems content to take a backseat in their conversation, instead observing silently as she exchanges greetings with various witches and werewolves and vampires.

She sips at her drink as someone else comes to greet Klaus, and it takes a moment for her to realise why this time is so different. Klaus isn’t treating her like an object. He never has, a byproduct of his thousand or so years of existence.

No. Klaus is treating her like an equal, and the thought of that sends a thrill down her spine. So when there’s a break in the conversation she twines an arm around his waist, pressing a quick kiss to his neck.

In response Klaus pulls her closer to him but doesn’t comment, carrying on his conversation effortlessly.

Hours later as the guests begin to filter out into the street, Klaus pulls her in close to her chest.

“What are you doing here Caroline?” He asks in a low voice, tone dangerous. “Not that I’m not happy to see you, of course I am.”

She meets his gaze confidently, hand drifting up his chest to fix the lapel of his dinner jacket.

“I’m here for you Klaus.” She tells him with a smile. “You remember that weekend in Tuscany, when you let me go without a word of protest?”

Klaus’ lips curl into a smirk.

“How could I forget Tuscany?”

“You didn’t push me. And I was grateful for that, even though I did know that you wouldn’t wait around forever for me. And when you kept your distance in the following years, I was grateful. But I also missed not having you around.”

Her eyes drop to the crisp lines of his shirt as her hands drift down towards his waist. His breath is hot against her cheek, and he’s gone unnaturally still as he waits to hear the next words out of her mouth.

“You offered me forever and I wasn’t ready then. But I am now.” She says softly, hands sliding up his chest, twining around his neck as his gaze darkens, mouth hanging open in surprise. “If you’ll still have me of course.

Klaus’ lips against hers is the only answer he provides, the only answer she needs. Klaus kisses her like he’s a starving man, like he’s been deprived of something for so long.

She’s scarcely less eager to return his embrace, missing the feeling of him, the familiar smell of him.

She doesn’t protest when Klaus picks her up in his arms, using his vamp speed to get the from the courtyard to what is undoubtedly his bedroom.

He’s got her pressed up against the closed door before she can even think about it, lips hot against the skin of her neck as he nips at her with a content sigh.

His jacket drops to the floor, and she helps him unbutton his shirt, no doubt in her mind as to the direction that this is heading.

Her hands roam over the skin of his chest, catalouging all the new scars that he’s acquired since she saw him last, hand pausing over a particularly nasty looking scar, no doubt caused by some sort of stabbing.

“You’ll have to tell me that story later.” She murmurs, tipping a finger under his chin and kissing him gently.

“Later.” Klaus agrees in a low voice, hands pausing at the seams of her dress.

She’s reversed their positions in an instant, Klaus pressed up against the door with a surprised look on his face.

“Don’t you dare rip this dress.” She hisses at him, knowing his proclivity for destroying her clothes when he’s in this sort of mood. “I like this one.”

His low chuckle curls around her, a warm feeling in the bottom of her stomach as he turns her gently by the shoulders, a hot open mouthed kiss pressed to the side of her neck.

His hands on the zipper are like fire as he pulls it down slowly, fingers brushing over the exposed skin of her back as he pushes the dress from her shoulders.

It pools at her feet, and she hears his breath hitch in his throat as he runs a gentle hand down her back.

“I’ve missed this.” Klaus murmurs to her, walking her backwards towards his bed, both of them kicking off their shoes, Klaus shucking his socks as they go.

He grips her by the hips, easily lifting her up and tossing her onto the mattress, a giggle escaping her lips as Klaus’s gaze darkens.

“Come here.” She beckons to him as Klaus crawls between her knees, covering her body with his as he takes her into his arms.

The feeling is unfamiliar and familiar all at once, Klaus’ erection pressing into her core as she tangles her lips with his.

A soft moan escapes her as Klaus’ lips scorch a hot trail down her throat, face nuzzling between the valley of her breasts, stubble scratching against her sensitive skin.

“Pants off.” She orders after a momentary pause, Klaus chuckling as he does her bidding.

“A little eager aren’t we?” He asks her with an infuriating smile as he hooks long fingers into the waistband of her panties.

“We’ve got ten years to make up for.” She just breathes, watching as his face softens, hand coming up to cup her cheek delicately as he lines up his body with hers, cock nudging gently at her entrance.

She can’t help but gasp at the feeling, heel nudging at his arse as he smiles down at her.

“We’ve got all the time in the world sweetheart.” He replies before pushing into her heat with one, smooth stroke.

She’s missed this, the feeling of being filled by him, and her eyes roll back into her head at just how good it is, at how good he is.

Klaus had learnt to read her body with an almost eerie sixth sense, and he puts all of his learned knowledge into practice as he sets a rhythm that has her unable to do much more than gasp and hold on for the ride.

Klaus rolls suddenly, reversing their positions as she sways above him, a little startled. Klaus just smiles, still hard inside her as he guides her arms around his broad shoulders, hands hot around her waist as he helps to lift her, guide her up and down.

She’s always loved this position with him, loved the power and the look of awe that always creeped across his face when he saw her like this.

She bends down to kiss him, rolling her hips in a gentle rhythm against his. Klaus’ hand traces down the front of her body, thumb pinpointing her clit with an unerring accuracy.

She shudders a little when he presses there, rhythm broken momentarily as she opens her mouth in a silent moan.

She can feel the tell tale build in her core, the ache becoming almost unbearable as she increases her rhythm, anchoring her hands on his shoulders as he begins to thrust up into her with a look of concentration on his face.

She falls apart in his arms, Klaus catching her, turning and pressing her down into the mattress as he continues to drive into her, the pleasure edging into pain at the sensitivity.

Klaus knows this though, gentles the movement of his hips until it curls low in her belly once more, building impossibly fast to her peak.

They come together this time, her name on his lips as he buries his face into her neck, feels the heat of him inside her.

She runs a hand through his sweat dampened hair, breathing slowly returning to normal as he pulls out and heads for the bathroom, returning in the next few moments with a damp cloth to wipe themselves down with.

When he’s done he pulls her into the circle of his arms, a content exhale as he props one arm under his head, staring up at the ceiling.

They don’t have to say much. They never do in moments like this. But she feels like she has to say this.

“I love you.” She whispers into the skin of his chest, Klaus stiffening momentarily around her before he’s pressing a gentle kiss to the back of her hand, eyes brimming with emotion.

He doesn’t say it back but that’s okay. She knows that he’s felt this way about her for a long time, and she’s not going to get hung up on her insecurities like she used to when it came to him.

The moment is perfect, and she wouldn’t change it for the world.

“I hope you’ve got space in your wardrobe for all my clothes.” She voices out loud suddenly, propping herself up on her elbow to face him.

Klaus’ burst of startled laughter is like music to her hears.


On the lower levels of the house, Rebekah Mikaelson pours herself a victory drink, Kol glowering on the lounge opposite her as the fire crackles merrily away in the hearth.

“Do you concede?” She asks of Kol, who just glares at her, cracking his knuckles a little threateningly.

“I concede.”

Opportunity

Pairing: Jared x Reader

Word Count: 5.6k (haha whoops)

Warnings: Ridiculous amount of cussing (usual in my writings), OC’s, minor humour, size!kink, hip!kink, nail scratching, hair!kink, dirty talk, sweet, sweet passionate smut.

Summary: You win a competition to film on the set of Supernatural and meet your idols. During your first day on set, you notice not only that Jared Padalecki has been eyeing you, but discover the fandom’s biggest headcanon on him in the bedroom is true.

A/N: This is entirely written in first person BUT it is still technically a reader insert, just a different format. For the purpose of this fic, Jared is single. Obviously no hate on Gen, it is fiction for entertainment purposes only. This was written and posted within hours, so all grammatical and spelling errors are my own. I apologise if there is a slight switch between tense, I was tired and in a rush to get all my thoughts on screen and posted that I wasn’t too stressed. It’s fanfiction, it doesn’t have to be perfect. Anyway, please enjoy. Feedback is appreciated.


Originally posted by carryon--my--wayward--butt

Beep beep beep beep beep.

“For fuck sakes,” I groaned, slamming my forefinger on the ‘stop’ on my phone to silence the alarm. I closed my eyes for a few more seconds, already knowing my phone was about to buzz yet again with a second alarm. My sensible self knows how much I like to sleep in. My sleepy self wants to fucking punch my sensible self for being so… sensible.

After silencing the second alarm, I stretched and rubbed my eyes, already reaching back for my phone to browse my social media like I do every fucking morning because I like to ignore my daily responsibilities and shove my eyeballs onto a screen to pretend like my life is interesting.

I go through all of my notifications, none of them worth really looking at, and begin to scroll down my Facebook page. I stop suddenly when I see Jared Padalecki’s latest post, my eyes catching the photo of Jensen, Misha and himself holding up a sign that read ‘WE WANT YOU!’

Keep reading

The Things We Do

Prompt: Beca catches Stacie and Chloe in the shower together


Beca knocked frantically on Jesse’s door. “Jesse I need to talk to you!” She heard footsteps before the door swung open.

“Are you okay? You look like you’ve just seen a ghost,” Jesse asked as Beca walked into his dorm room.

“I saw something worse than that,” she took a deep breath before looking at him. “I just walked in on Stacie and Chloe taking a shower together.” Her eyes widened as she relived that experience.

“That doesn’t sound bad at all actually,” Jesse couldn’t help but laugh.

“It was weird, Jess. How am I supposed to look Chloe in the eye now?” Beca hid her face with her hands.

“I really don’t think it’s that big of a deal. Chloe is pretty open minded and I mean didn’t you already see her in the shower before?” He smirked as Beca shoved him.

“Don’t be a perv. And it is a big deal! It’s going to be so awkward now” Beca sighed as Jesse sat on his bed.

“I get it. I mean you are in love with her,” Jesse said with a soft smile leaning to where his back hit the wall.

“In love with her? I’m not in love with her!” Beca half laughed, her eyes somewhat bulging out of her head from hearing that crazy thought. She started pacing back and forth.

“It’s okay, Beca. It’s not that uncommon to fall for your best friend,” Jesse said like this was some kind of normalcy. Like it was one hundred percent fine and logical.

“Jesse, I’m sorry, but that’s not what this is,” Beca’s voice was small yet somehow determined.

“Oh, well what is it then?” He arched an eyebrow at her trying to hide a smirk. Beca wanted to slap that smirk right off his smug little face.

“It’s just. It’s..” Beca didn’t really know actually. She stopped pacing and brushed her hair back with her fingers. “It’s just weird is all”

“And why is that?” He really was good at trying to get stuff out of her. His eyes locked on hers like he was daring her to blink.

“Because! I mean. Chloe and Stacie? What the hell?” Beca balled her hands into a fist.

“Okay, but didn’t she say something to you about experimenting? It doesn’t sound that weird to me,” he grinned at how frustrated Beca was getting.

“Yeah but that was just Chloe being weird. Like always. She just says stuff like that,” Beca tried to reason.

“Somehow I don’t think that was just a random thing to say, Bec” he shrugged patting the bed.

Beca rolled her eyes and reluctantly sat at the edge of his bed. Jesse sat up and put his hand on Beca’s shoulder.

“Hey, seriously. I think maybe you should think about why this is really bothering you. And I don’t think it’s just because it was embarrassing,” Jesse told her.

“I’m just being stupid. It’s not really that big of a deal. I was just in shock,” Beca shook her head and stood up. “I’m going to head out. I’ll see you later.”

“Alright. Well, I’m here if you need to talk,” Jesse reassured her.

“Not necessary, Jess! Bye!” She shut the door behind her and leaned against it.

What the hell just happened.

When she entered the Bella house, she was instantly greeted by Stacie. Of course.

“Hey Beca,” she winked. Beca’s face flushed and she all but ran up to her room while Stacie laughed behind her.

Beca closed her bedroom door behind her and plopped on her bed. She was not ready to face that awkwardness again anytime soon. She was wondering why it bothered her that much though.

She just really wasn’t expecting to see the two of them in the shower together. She had originally gone into the bathroom to grab Fat Amy’s car keys that the girl had left on the bathroom counter.

When she walked in she was faced with Stacie entering the shower Chloe was already occupying. The brunette had brushed Chloe’s hair back and leaned to kiss the redhead’s shoulder. Stacie looked up and locked eyes with Beca and that’s when she hightailed it out of there.

Suddenly there was a small knock on the door. “Beca can I come in?” It was Chloe.

Beca groaned. “Yeah” she tried to make her voice sound normal.

When Chloe entered the room, Beca busied herself by getting out her laptop and opening up one of her mixes she was working on

“Hey. Can we talk?” Chloe asked as she made her way over and sat at the end of Beca’s bed.

“Yeah, sure” Beca’s eyes were still on her computer.

“So, I know you saw me and Stacie in the shower. Stacie said you freaked out a bit,” Chloe’s voice was soft.

“What? No, I didn’t freak out. I mean it’s whatever,” Beca was fooling around by clicking on random things.

“Then why won’t you even look at me Beca?” Chloe asked sadly. “Does it weird you out to be with a girl?”

Beca turned her head towards Chloe so fast it almost caused whiplash.

“No, Chloe. Of course it doesn’t weird me out. Why would it?” Beca looked at Chloe with concern.

Chloe licked her lips. “Well, it kind of seems like it weirded you out”

“No, that’s not it. I just wasn’t expecting it is all,” Beca shrugged.

“So that’s all? You just weren’t expecting it?” Chloe’s eyes searched Beca’s.

“I mean.. I don’t know Chlo. I figured if you were serious about experimenting you would have picked me” Beca mumbled. She didn’t like feeling vulnerable.

Chloe looked down at the bed spread. “Look I only mentioned it to Stacie because I didn’t think you wanted to. I mean you called me weird. Then when Stacie got in the shower with me-”

“Okay I really don’t need details,” Beca stopped her not wanting to hear this at all.

Chloe looked up at Beca. “Would you let me finish? When Stacie got in the shower with me it didn’t feel right so we stopped”

“Oh” Beca let out a sigh of relief.

“So, you did want to experiment with me?” Chloe asked hesitantly.

“Who wouldn’t want to experiment with you, Chlo,” Beca smirked.

Chloe smiled brightly before moving Beca’s laptop out of the way. She then crawled over Beca who was now laying down. Chloe leaned down their lips barely touching.

“So this is okay then?” Chloe asked.

Beca wrapped her arms over Chloe’s neck, pushing her down to capture the girl’s lips with her own.

Outside of Beca’s door Fat Amy and Stacie highfived. Of course Fat Amy left her keys in the bathroom on purpose. Stacie had only agreed to do that with Chloe because she knew the girl would end up stopping her.

“The things we do to get those idiots together” Fat Amy grinned.

On PR

So I tend to get a lot of asks asking me if I think certain things are real or fake (PR stunts). To be honest I can’t be bothered to get into these details. And the fact of the matter is that we simply don’t know what’s real and whats fake. So I don’t want to sit here saying ‘this is true’ or ‘this is false’ when I don’t actually know anything about the girls’ private lives. I also don’t want to feed the drama machine that I am trying to ignore. 

The short of it is that I assume that a lot of the ‘info’ that we as fans are fed about the girls’ private lives is probably fake or staged, and that if they feed us stuff that is actually true, then they are putting this info out for a reason. If some new info about the girls pops up on your phone screen, logically, there are 3 different possibilities for why you are seeing it.

1) it is fake and being used for PR 

2) it is real and being purposefully used for PR

3) It is private info that wasn’t supposed to get out.

My feeling is that option 3 is very rare. If it is a photo someone accidentally caught or something like that, then perhaps. But in general if they want something to remain private, it will remain private. Remember even phone hacks can be faked - be wary of any kind of ‘leak’.

I think its fair to assume that if you are seeing something, its usually because the girls’ team want you to see it. If it gets media attention then this adds evidence to it being constructed by the team. Just as a general rule, if you want to try and work out if things are PR or not, there are a few of questions to ask yourself:

- How did it happen?

- Is it being paraded in front of your face?

- Is the media reporting on it? Are the media sources ones that usually report on 5H stuff? (i.e. are they sources that have a relationship with their team?)

- What’s the timeline? How quickly did events develop?

- Were the events accompanied by rumours that mysteriously emerged out of know-where?

- Are there any releases coming out soon that they may be trying to promote?

- Are the girls having to co-operate?

Again, I really can’t be fucked to get into the details of nit-picking what might be real and what might be fake, but the above questions are usually what run through my head when I see some kind of ‘drama’. My advice: In general I would say trust your instincts and don’t get caught up in the drama. Just approach everything like you don’t really know whats going on and support the girls in spite of any negative publicity that may have been built around them.

- Meg xx