My fake boyfriend Part 1

Summary: After receiving a very rude letter of your ex on the mail saying that he is going to get married. You see yourself not knowing what to do, you can just let it go or accept the help of your hot neighbor and pretend he is your boyfriend.

Paring: Bucky x Reader

Words: 1056.

Warnings: Angst your ex is an ass, fuffly Bucky is a cute pie.

A/n: Thanks to @drinkfantasy for being my beta. You rock.

Originally posted by sebjpeg

Bucky wakes up with someone shaking his shoulders, he groans annoyed not ready to get up yet “Leave me alone, Steve, I’m not gonna run with you today.” He hears someone laughing, he swears that is your laughter “It’s not Steve… it’s me.”

He opens his eyes, he sees your face in front of him and it feels almost like a dream having you in his bed “What are you doing here, doll?” You smile weakly at him “Sorry, Sam let me in; I just need to talk to someone.”

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I don’t know how I never noticed this before but I LOVE that Victor is doing the victory sign WRONG in this photo he is like me too! I am doing the hand thing too! Me, Victor Nikiforov, your soon-to-be son-in-law! ME TOO I AM PART OF FAMILY TOO

Like even though how did he do this how did you even do this wrong are you fake smoking a pretend cigarette what do you even think everyone else is doing Victor, I AM SO CHARMED

(Also I love that Yuri P simultaneously looks like he’s a Russian tourist kid who accidentally photobombed a nice Japanese family with an enthusiastic foreign husband or was photoshopped into it by Mari, his fan, yet also still looks like he’s part of this family shot, every single frame of this anime is a treasure)

im diggin samurai flamenco as a deconstruction of superhero/super sentai shows n tropes while still really firmly holding onto the boundless optimism and faith in humanity that characterizes the best of them?? its a bunch of goofball shit n suddenly hardhitting shit with dashes of ptsd, but like. it doesnt shy away from how much hard work it is, to do good things and try to be a kind and just person day by day, and it still says ‘here is why we do it’ and 'we want to,’ and its making my heart sing

also it has my angry bisexual daughter and her big-hearted gentle angel lesbian gf and their no-nonsense emotionally stable girlfriend. so. y'know.

victimdemavictoir  asked:

Hi! I'm your reader from Russia. I think your fics are really, REALLY great. So I wanted to ask if you will permit me to translate 'Paris burning' into Russian? It would be so wanderful, 'cause you write really greatly, and I would really enjoy translating

Oh wow that would be great! I’m so flattered! Send me a link so I can put it on the blog, and don’t be afraid of messaging me if there’s a phrase you don’t get or a misspelling I need to fix.


Authors Note: Au where Harry is a Frat Boy. I don’t know where this is going. It was hard to write though.

Harry Masterlist found HERE
Other Chapters found HERE

I was never the character to continuously go to parties, get drunk, or even go out every Friday night.

I regularly prefer to stay in on Friday nights, revising for the tests or doing the homework that I’m drowning in.

I perpetually overhear the stories that go around every Monday morning, after some sort of party that sparked everyone’s interests.

I continually hear the late night giggles and drunken stumbles in the hallways’ of my dorm. Every Saturday morning, around two, I hear the laughs of tipsy and intoxicated classmates’ that never seizes to disturbs me from my sleep or my studying.

I overhear the front door to the suit open, an indication one of my three suit mates are subsequently back from class, or shagging up with their boyfriends’ or their boyfriends’ friends.

To say the least, my suitemates are of some character, character that is different to my own. I always listen in on some of the scandalous stories that go on within the suit— they can be great friends’, but they don’t always make the best of decisions.

I narrow my eyes back to the book in my hand that is required to be read for English class, despite its terrible storyline and the fact it is borderline monotonous. For a moment, I am distracted when my suitemate enters the bedroom, a smile painted across her face. “What are you doing tonight?” She beams over to me, directing my attention away from the torturous book in my hand.

“I have a date with Bio, why?” I glance over at her, noticing how she is already rummaging through her clothes, perhaps trying to find something to wear for the evening.

“Come out with me, there is a party.”

“I need to do Bio, I’ll pass.” I shake my head, just as she flings a glittery black dress into my lap. I lift it off my lap and drop it to the bed.

“Bio will be there in the morning, get up. you need to have some fun.”

“I need good grades, actually.” I correct her, her posture straightening as she turns to glance at me.

“Get your ass up, put on a dress and heels, do something with your hair, and put the damn book down.” She narrows her eyes on the book still in my hand, “One night, that is it. I promise you won’t regret it.” She presses, determined to not allow me to pass on the opportunity to go out with her and probably get drunk and have guys hit on the two of us.

With a heavy sigh, I push myself off the bed, my fingers clasping the glittery dress, “Fine, but I want your psych notes, and I want those heels.” I gesture towards a pair of crimson red heels. She raises a brow, seeming surprised by my choice of colour.

“I said get dressed, not to look hot. I am surprised.” She gasps teasingly, my eyes rolling at her,

“I do know how to dress, surprisingly. Now, hand over the psych notes.” I smile, already beginning to undress and pull the dress over my body, adjusting it to fall perfectly.

“Damn, you brush up nicely without a book in your hand.” She chuckles, handing me her heels that I have requested for the night. I grin, giving her a shrug as I run my hands through my hair, debating whether I need to do anything to it.

I mutter under my breath my regret as I step into the rowdy house, parties are not really my thing—neither are Frat parties. I sigh, allowing my roommate to drag me into the house of swaying bodies and raucous noise, music echoing against the walls, laughter and chatter boisterously buzzing.

It takes me a while to settle into the atmosphere of overly enthusiastic and somewhat intoxicated figures, my hand already clasping a red solo cup with some sort of fruity drink poured into it. I hurried away from the vodka shots and settled on whatever it is that was poured into my cup. I assume it is a mix of fruits and vodka, but there is really no telling, the bartender seemed half intoxicated himself.

I glance over as a loud eruption of laughter takes my attention, a group of boys’ gathered around a pingpong table, shouting at each other, pushing and shoving as two of them go head to head in the battle of beer pong. I can’t help but chuckle at the pathetic attempt of the blonde in a pair of light dawn-tinted shorts and a white polo hung around his figure. There is no doubt in my mind that he is already at his limits end with alcohol, and his friends’ are just savouring his embarrassment with beer pong.

I wander closer to the table, considerately amused by the whole group; they appear to be having a lot more fun than the sweaty, dancing bodies in the other room, and they’re the only group of boys that aren’t trying to mount their dick onto anything that breathes and resembles the slightest bit of a female.

“Ah, we have a new spectator.” A guy gestures towards me, forcing all the attention to be focused on me, I shrug and take a sip of my beverage, “Guess you didn’t see the sign?” He comments,

“Which one?” I raise a brow, unsure of what he is referring to.

His mates grow quiet and his mouth begins to move, “This is not a game for chicks.” His sexist comment automatically causes me to roll my eyes.

Entitled, sexist fratboy— clearly a non-intelligent twat.

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one of my admittedly many favorite things about gansey is that in theory he’s this old money, dignified, highbrow intellectual and passionate researcher into the unknown

but in practice he’s an awkward teenager who wears terrible boat shoes and can’t hold a conversation without talking about magic and thinks about how he’s indirectly making out with blue when he eats yogurt with the same spoon she used

Dirty Laundry - Jack Maynard

Summary: You finally meet your best friend’s boyfriend’s brother, the one who your best friend has been trying to keep away from you.

Word Count: 1578

Warnings: None so far … little bit of swearing maybe?

Author’s Note: So! I was kinda unsure about whether or not I was gonna post this, I wrote it literally months ago and I didn’t know whether I wanted to post this, especially since it actually uses a girls name and not Y/N but i’ve decided to post it. I’m planning on this having between 10 and 15 parts/chapters/etc and yeah let me know if you guys want me to post more.

Originally posted by jack-maynard

Life was a bit fickle sometimes; you never knew what was going to happen from one moment to the next. Sometimes you could predict it; if you spent enough time with certain people then you could usually guess how they would react in particular circumstance. Other times it was a bit trickier to guess where their heads were at. If you were a wallflower, you learnt how to watch people, how to predict their every move. You studied people.

Jack Maynard was not a wallflower, not by a long shot. Jack Maynard was forever the centre of attention, he was the one at the core of every late night party and the surging force behind every boys night out. Jack had always liked having peoples eyes on him for as long as her could remember, that was where he did his best work - with all eyes on him and his actions.

Evie Freudman was not the centre of attention - not if she could avoid it. She had spent most of her teenage years in the shadows, sticking in the dark corner with a book at late night parties and skipping out early on girls nights out to watch netflix in her pyjamas. She was good at reading people; her mother had always said that she could look in someones eyes and be able to see their soul.

“Think fast Jacky Boy!” Conor Maynard’s loud voice echoed in his younger brothers ears as he launched himself onto Jack’s back, causing the younger boy to grunt as he stumbled to regain his balance. Behind him, he could hear Joe and Casper cackling at his expense. Jack groaned as he struggled to balance his older brother on his back, messily punching in the code for their building as all four of them staggered up the stairs to their second story apartment.

The entire building could hear the four boys climbing up the stairwell, which included Conor’s long-term girlfriend, Annie, and her friend, Evie. Annie looked at her friend with wide eyes as she tried to think on her feet. Annie had been friends with Evie for almost five years now, and it had been almost two since they had found each other again in London. During that entire time, Annie had made a concerted effort to keep her pseudo-brother-in-law away from her friend.

It wasn’t that she thought they would make a bad pair - quite the opposite actually - she knew that the two of them were incredibly well matched and that they would complement each other fairly well. She had no doubt that Jack would be able to bring her shy friend a little out of her shell and that Evie would perhaps be able to ground Jack a little and make him care about someone else for once. However, Jack was a notorious fuckboy and she had witnessed many a girl get her heart destroyed by him, and if she could stop Evie from being one of the many, then she would.

Evie had left her family behind in Australia; many of them had already disowned her following her fathers death. She really didn’t have anyone in London besides Annie and a few good friends that she had made at university. If nobody else was going to look out for her wellbeing, then Annie sure as hell would. If that meant keeping Jack Maynard as far away from her as possible, then so be it. Evie was just Jack’s type but he wasn’t mature enough to be what she needed, in Annie’s humble opinion.

Before Annie could even think about hiding Evie from the boys, her boyfriend and his friends were crashing through the front door of their loft apartment. She rolled her eyes before turning to her friend, “I apologise for whatever these dickheads do in the next few minutes,” she offered quickly before topping up Evie’s wine glass. “So whatever happened with that guy you went out with? Scott, was it?” she asked, listening intently as her friend went off on a tangent about the cockhead from her history lecture.

The boys were too busy fucking around in the sitting room to make much notice to the girls in the kitchen, until loud and rambunctous giggles broke through their conversation and causing Jack to look at his older brother in suspicion, “has Annie’s laugh suddenly gone up fourteen octaves?” he asked mockingly. Conor shoved his little brother as he got up to investigate, the three other boys trailing behind him on his journey to the kitchen.

“Little Eve!” Evie spun around at the loud and booming voice of her best friend’s boyfriend, smiling brightly when he came into her field of vision, hoping off of the bar stool to hug Conor tightly. Conor grinned over his shoulder at his girlfriend as he swept her friend off her feet in a massive bear hug, before gesturing to Annie that Jack was behind him and already curious.

“Mr. Annie! How are you? I haven’t seen you in forever!” Evie asked Conor brightly, her smile infectous as both Conor and Annie found themselves mirroring her grin. “I hope you’re keeping my best friend happy, making sure she’s well fed and kept away from young princes,” she implored the young man as she watched Annie roll her eyes before leaning into her boyfriend’s side, a fond smile etching its way onto her face as she looked them over.

Evie absolutely adored  watching Annie and Conor together, it made her infinitely happy to just watch them interact with each other. Despite all the teasing, she was well aware that Conor kept her best friend very very very happy and sexually satisfied (that one she wished she could be less aware of). In all the years that she had known Annie, Evie had never seen her so unapologetically happy and giddy, and she was sure that she had Conor to thank for that. He was good for Annie, a lot of silly and sweet gestures wrapped into a handsome bow.

“He does what he’s told,” Annie filled in for him, leaning up to brush a soft yet meaningful kiss to her boyfriend’s jaw. Evie found herself looking away and blushing shyly, not wanting to intrude on such a sweet and intimate moment between her two friends. Apparently, this was not a feeling that was shared by the other occupants of the room.

From the moment Jack barged into the room, her eyes were on him, drinking him in as he playfully wedged himself between the happy couple. “Well, well, well, what do we have here?” he grinned, one arm over each of the couple’s shoulders. His eyes gradually fell on Evie, widening significantly at the clearly shy yet stunning person in front of him. From the way her glasses were perched on the bridge of her nose to the way she would wring her hands together under a strangers gaze; he knew that this was someone he wanted to know.

“And who might this be?” he asked, his focus never leaving the girl in front of him and delighting in the deep blush that seemed to be permanently etched onto her face. It had been a long time since he’d encountered a shy girl that didn’t immediately bore him.

Rolling her eyes, Annie shoved his arm off of her shoulders. “This is my friend, Evie, she’s too good for you,” she introduced, standing next to Evie with her arms crossed over her chest, “Evie, this is Conor’s brother, Jack,” she countered, gesturing to Jack with a dismissive wave of her hand. “Come on, we’re gonna be late for our reservation,” she commented, all but dragging her friend out of the room.

As soon as they had vanished, Jack rounded on his older brother, “What the hell was that about?” he demanded accusingly, his arms crossed tightly over his chest as he waited for Conor’s answer. “How come I’ve never met her before?” he asked with slightly less aggression, “I am charming!” he huffed, his signature pout painted across his face.

“That’s exactly why!” Conor exclaimed, “Look, you’re my brother and I love you, but you’re not exactly the most charming after you sleep with a girl,” he pointed out, placing one hand on Jack’s shoulder. “Evie isn’t a girl who you can ghost and expect her to bounce back, and if you hurt her, then Annie will kill me and I’d really like to keep my girlfriend and my bollocks if you don’t mind,” he snickered.

“So your girl just knows i’m gonna fuck up? That’s a bit cynical don’t you reckon?” Jack scowls, shrugging Conor off. “I’ve had plenty of girlfriends before!” He insinuated, puffy his chest out in indignation.

“And they all wound up hating your guts and blocking you on everything imaginable!” Conor laughs, “Gee Jack, can’t imagine why Annie would wanna keep you away from her friends!” he cackled loudly before leaning back against the counter.

Tilting his head slightly, he took in the determined and confused look on his brothers face, that wasn’t expected. “Look, i’m not getting involved because I’d like to retain my appendages, but Evie’s a big girl, she tends to keep people at arms length but if you’re your usual charming self, maybe she’ll open up to you and if you don’t seriously fuck it up, Annie might even be happy for you.”

“Don’t you want something more than a one night stand?”