if all the world were paper

A Lesson in Love (The Confrontation)

Summary: (College!AU) In which you’re assigned to write a story about romance, a subject you know nothing about, and Bucky, a hopeless romantic, offers you his assistance.

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Word Count: 3,036

A/N: The tag list for this story is officially CLOSED. Also, this one is for Matt, the most fabulous resident I know, and all the other amazing residents who might be reading this.

“A Lesson in Love” Masterlist + Soundtrack

@avengerstories - thank you for everything, always

Originally posted by sebjpeg

You sit in silence, nibbling on your bottom lip and tapping your foot against the carpeted floor. You’ve taken your fair share of difficult classes throughout the years, but nothing compares to the discomfort that comes with someone reading something that you’ve written. It’s as if all of your thoughts have been placed under a microscope, leaving every single imperfection out in the open for anyone to see. After taking this writing class, you have a newfound respect for all the authors who are willing to put their work out there.

“I must admit, I was a little apprehensive when you said that you were planning to scrap your initial idea and start afresh,” T’Challa says, carefully lowering your laptop onto the coffee table. He leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees and propping his chin in his hand.

“And?”

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November Rain (Part 1)

Originally posted by rocksaroundthesuns

Characters: Alpha!Dean x Omega!Reader

Word Count: 3001

Warnings: A/B/O Dynamics, Smut, Unprotected Sex, Angst, Violence Against the Reader, Swearing, Bigotry 

Summary:  After a hunt goes awry, Dean and the reader spend the night together, but was it all a mistake?

A/N:  This is my first A/B/O fic, written for @dr-dean‘s A/B/O Challenge (Happy Birthday!!).  I’ve always wanted to write one of these, so thank you so much for breaking me out of my shell.  And thank you @notnaturalanahi, for getting me out of my funk and inspired to write this, not to mention betaing it for me.  The prompt was November Rain by Guns n’Roses (one of my favorite songs, by my favorite band.)  Written using @kittenofdoomage‘s A/B/O Rules.  It got a little too long, so I’m splitting it up into two parts.  


The day you met Dean Winchester you knew he belonged to you.

It wasn’t the earth shattering electricity you’d heard True Bonds conveyed when mates touched.  It was in a smile, in a glance, in the warm, comforting knowledge that he was yours.  Just for you.

Since then, loving him had been as easy as breathing, but being with him was considerably harder.  If Dean had felt the call, he never showed it.  He worked beside you, treated you like family, but never made an advance.  And that was the true challenge of your situation, and the true burden of being an unmated Omega.

“I’ll have you know, I’m great company to most people,” Dean said, shaking you out of your thoughts.

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Punk (Chap. 7)

Originally posted by miamirasmus

Summary: You’re head over heels for your best friend Bucky and hate the nickname he gave you as it doesn’t exactly scream romance.

Word count: 2510

Warnings: Same as always

A/N: Thank you for all of the feedback again I’m completely blown away.  Sorry that tags have been finicky, not sure what tumblr’s deal is lately.  I hope you like this chapter, thanks for sticking around!



The crisp, cold air outside the club was a welcoming relief but did little to halt the burning tears cascading down your cheeks or the hot waves of mortification and shame radiating out from deep within your very being.  The cold air bit at your nose and throat as you allowed yourself to suck in great gulps in attempts to keep the impending panic attack at bay.

This can’t be happening, this wasn’t supposed to happen.  Ethan stood at the curb, attempting to hail a cab while you toiled over your interaction with Bucky.  This wasn’t like how it was in the movies.  Wasn’t Bucky supposed to be completely awestruck with your transformation? Shouldn’t he have been at a loss for words? Instead he was completely taken aback for all the wrong reasons. He’d looked at you with utter confusion, probably wondering what the hell you were doing in a dress, wearing makeup, sporting heels, like he couldn’t believe what he was seeing…and he didn’t like it at all.

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AP WORLD

Proctor: do not under any circumstances discuss the contents of this exam with anyone
Whole class: screams about it during break, runs up to history teacher’s room the second we were dismissed to tell him about it
AP World History teacher: grabs a paper and pencil and takes notes on all of the questions we told him were on it

Special Lady

Pairng: Tom x Reader

Warnings: None really just fluff

Word Count: 461

A/N: My very first go at writing Tom so be gentle with me. I got a few more drabble ideas so this will not be the last you see of him on my blog and I might also do a one shot or two or… in the future :)

Usually Tom loved premieres. He loved meeting the fans and engaging with people.He even enjoyed talking to the reporters, making a point of remembering as many of their names as possible. Tom had found kindness made his job a lot easier. Not that he had to try hard, Tom was simply just himself. Putting on a fake facade took up too much energy he found early on.

Even if Tom wasn’t fake he was still a private man. He knew you had been seen with him around New York earlier today and he knew there was going to be questions. Questions Tom were ready for but he also knew you weren’t. He had tried convincing you to join him tonight, but he had respected your decision not to. Fame was part of his life, not yours. You both knew you were going to be thrown in head first sooner or later as you were both very serious about each other but tonight was just not the night.

Tom had gotten through most of the reporters without anyone bringing up the paparazzi pictures that were already floating the internet and he was just starting to think he was going get home free, when a female journalist call attention to the fact that he was alone.

“So Tom we thought you’d might be bringing a special someone with you tonight?” she asked flashing him a smile, and Tom couldn’t help but blush a little and laugh with her choice of words.

“Sorry,” Tom smiled at her, “there is a special someone but she is working tonight.”

“Oh yeah on a Thursday evening?” the reporter pushed with a smile which Tom didn’t hesitate to return.

“Yes grating papers. She’s a teacher,” Tom answered still smiling, finding he loved being able to share just a little bit about you with the world. He couldn’t wait until the moment came where you were finally gonna let him show you off.

“Does this special someone have a name?” the reporter kept pushing just as Tom’s assistant rested a hand on his arm letting him know it was time to move inside.

“Y/N.” Tom smiled as he backed up, “and that is all you are getting for tonight.”

***

You were sitting in front of your laptop with a huge goofy grin on your face. You were supposed to be working but you hadn’t been able to refrain from clicking on the livestream of Tom’s premiere. The smile on his face when he spoke your name were instantly mirrored on yours and you slightly regretted you weren’t there with him tonight.

“Next time,” you promised yourself as you closed your laptop, beginning to count the minutes until your boyfriend would be back at the hotel with you.

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psycho 05/taehyung

Originally posted by jimins-bootae

warning and a note: this chapter has some sexual harassment/slight violence (knife) in it so if you are uncomfortable with reading this kind of story please stop right here, i understand this might be hurtful to some people but this is just my crazy imagination and I’m sorry if you have ever experienced anything like this and I also wish this doesn’t happen to anyone ever, i know that taehyung isn’t like this in real life this is just a story

note: in this chapter i mention his brother but because I don’t know his name i put h/b/n instead which stands for his brothers name 

note2: sorry for any mistakes I will try and fix them later on

summary: it’s going to be okay I promise

READ ALL THE OTHER PARTS HERE ! 

chapter 01 chapter 02 chapter 03 chapter 04

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Hot Head part.2 | Montgomery De la cruz

Read part 1 here 👉🏽 https://issafandom.tumblr.com/post/159910710165/hot-head-montgomery-de-la-cruz


*In Mr Porters office*

You sat uncomfortably in the seat opposite Mr porters and had begun to unconsciously crack your knuckles- nervous habit. You wouldn’t have come if it wasn’t for Hannah but she practically dragged you here. You stopped doing it once Mr Porter had sat back down, straightening out his tie then leaning over to hand you both a sheet of paper.

Hannah scoffs “What is this?”

You turn your paper the right way up and scan the sheet. Date, time, event, people involved, the list went on.

“Whiteness statements Hannah” Mr Porter huffed as he rubbed his forehead “I will need to know exactly what happened”

He explained- almost too casually. It was almost as if he didn’t want us bothering him at this moment..

“But we already told you what happened” Hannah explained. I watched as Mr Porter grabbed a pen out of a black pot in the desk and open the lid with his teeth.

“But I need it in writing” he mumbled as he scribbled with the pen on a yellow post-stick note, then reached for another one, one that actually worked “I also need anyone else who was in the room to write a statement too, so, do you care to tell me their names?“

You hesitated to name anyone. You didn’t want them to be involved and you certainly didn’t want anyone to think you we’re a snitch.

Just before you could say anything, Hannah had already piped up “Justin Foley, Alex Standall, Bryce Walker” she listed, counting on her fingers as she did so, “and all the other poor excuses of men in that locker room”

“But Alex didn’t do anything” you declared, speaking for the first time in about 5 minutes, gaining an eyebrow raise from Mr Porter before writing down the names.

“Exactly” Hannah said, folding her arms over her chest “He just sat back with his bowl of popcorn and watched the show”

“Hmm, what Flavour?” Mr Porter asked, still writing on the post stick note. Me and Hannah both looked to each other then back to Mr Porter.

“Salty?, Sweet?, Toffee?” He quizzed

“I’m glad you find this so funny” Hannah remarked. You were already out of your seat with the paper scrunched up in your fist.

“We’re wasting our time Hannah, let’s go”

Hannah pushed her chair out and got up. “Ok- Ok ladies, I apologise” he said, holding up both hands. You and Hannah reluctantly sat back down.

“Look, I know this seems like the end of the world right now, but this kind of stuff happens all the time. As much as it shouldn’t, boys and girls get into fights too”

“Yeah, because men are trash” Hannah whispered under her breath

”.mBut what if it wasn’t just a fight?” You asked “..What if it was- what if it was more than that?”

Mr Porter leaned forward “Montgomery and yourself, you guys are in a relationship right?” He asked

“Yeah” you agreed

“And this is the first time he’s even been violent towards you, correct?”

“..yeah” you lied “yes”

“And what is it, you said to provoke him to do that?”

Your eyebrows knotted in confusion “And why do you assume that I had done something to provoke him?(!)” you mildly shouted, your voice beginning to shake.

Mr Porter’s eyes shifted from Hannah to you "Well something must have happened for him to be angry”

“Or he could just be abusing her?” Hannah quickly responded

“I’m just saying-

“Well don’t ‘just say’” Hannah snapped back

“Hannah, I’m gonna have to ask you to wait outside” Mr Porter told her, he then walked over to the door as held it open.

Hannah mumbled something about Mr Porter to you before flinging her backpack on her shoulder and storming out the room.

“So, Y/N” Mr Porter begins “Did anything happen for Montgomery to get angry?” He repeated before slumping back down in his seat. “There had to be something?”

You waited for the sound of the door to be shut before answering “..I may have hit him, only because he called Hannah a slut”

“um-hmm” Mr Porter hummed then scribbled something down “So you hit him first?” He asked

“Yeah but-

"And do you think hitting him was the right way to react?”

“What? And hitting me was the right was to react” you say, putting emphasis on the ‘me’.

“Listen Y/N, it seems to me like neither of you thought before you reacted, doesn’t mean that anyone is an abuser. That’s a very serious allegation to make”

Yeah, if only you could see the scars on my back and the bruises under my skin, you thought. You began to crack your knuckles again- consciously

"You two are a couple and that’s what couples do sometimes” he explained “Monty was just probably embarrassed that you hit him in front of all his friends”

“Yeah, I guess I hurt his precious ego” you sniffed

"Exactly.”

“Mm” you agreed as you stood to your feet and pulled the strap of your bag over your shoulder “..and perhaps I could get over it in a week or so”

“I dunno- perhaps” Mr Porter shrugged You just shook your head in disbelief and opened the door.

“Well, you don’t have to leave right now!” Mr Porters voice echoed as you walked further away from him. Hannah got up as soon as she caught sight of you but you didn’t say anything, you just kept walking.

You heard her footsteps gain speed as she jogged to catch up with you. “What did he say?” She asked

"Nothing useful” you told her “I have to go meet up with Clay”

“Oh, right well, maybe we could meet up at Monets after school” she suggested “Hot chocolate can be a really good cure”

You didn’t want to go. You didn’t want to talk about this anymore. I mean, what was the point? Talking about it with Mr Porter hadn’t helped at all so why would talking to Hannah make a difference. Hannah didn’t even know the half of what was happening and only saw a fraction of what you had been going through. And she thinks a hot chocolate would fix things..

“I’ll text you” you assured her before walking faster. You soon approached the library, fixing your make up in a compact mirror before you went in. You rushed over to the table Clay and Jeff we’re sat at and plopped down on the seat next to Jeff.

"Someone’s early” Jeff chuckled

“Sorry I’m late. I was speaking to Mr Porter” you told them as you searched through your bag for an assignment you was working on. Once found, you handed it over to Clay. You noticed that Jeff had kicked him in the leg as their eyes shuffled from you and back to each other. "Shit. Don’t tell me I have something in my teeth” you said

“..Urm..Are you okay Y/N?” Clay asked out of the blue

“Yup” you answered, popping the ‘p’ “Why wouldn’t I be?”

Clay and Jeff looked at each other then back to you. Jeff inched himself closer to you and placed his arm over the back of your leg.

“It’s just, we heard what happened in the locker room today-

You sighed.

"And we want you to know that we’ve got your back” Jeff continued “Always”

“Yeah” Clay nodded “And don’t worry, no ones on Monty’s side. Everybody thinks he’s a dick for what he did to you”

“Eveybody?” You questioned

Clay and Jeff just nodded, clearly confirming the fact that ‘everybody’ now knew what had happened.

You sighed again “Great”

Your phone buzzed loudly in your bag, earning you a few hushes from other students in the library. You fished for your phone out of your back pocket and swiped the screen to unlock it. A text from Hannah and from Alex and from Zach popped up immediately.

Hannah🍑: See you at Monets?x

Alex🤘🏼🖤: Wanted to check up on you. Call me x

Zach Dempsey (Tall jock from English class) : Sorry about the boys. Their dicks. If you ever need someone to talk to, I’m here. Always.

There it was again. The 'Always’, like they had 'always’ been there. You rolled your eyes and threw your phone into the bottom of your bag. All of a sudden, people cared about you. All of a sudden, people wanted to check up on you and call you and listen to you and be there for you. And all of a sudden, you were a victim. And that wasn’t a label you wanted to have or own or be associated with.

It just didn’t sound like you.

—— Okay so that was part 2! I hope you guys like it Oh and thanks for all the support on part 1, it means a lot so thankyou💞✨

Originally posted by despairingfever

5

May’s Featured Game: TRÄUMEREI

DEVELOPER(S): Veynn
ENGINE: RPGMaker VX Ace  
GENRE: Horror, Exploration
WARNINGS:  Suicide
SUMMARY: One day, a young boy wanders into the woods with only the twisted, mangled remnants of dreary branches obscuring the bleak horizon. As the sun starts to set beneath ruby-red clouds, the boy, Noël, happens upon a desolate cross-bridge atop a river of blood. Upon crossing over it, he finds himself standing by a gate wrought from stone.
Confronted by the fantasies his beloved grandmother read to him as a child, the boy finds himself lost in a dark ‘Wonderland.’ However, all is not that it seems.
While exploring, Noël must gather the memories of those forsaken souls who roam lest their hearts shatter.

Our Interview With The Dev Team Below The Cut!

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anonymous asked:

Bughead writing prompt where Betty has a crush on Jughead and she gets jealous and he's entirely oblivious

Hope you like it!!! Thank you for requesting!! <3


“Excuse me, do you know where I can find Jughead Jones?” four faces frowned at the odd question that echoed over their heads and stopped their previous cheerful chat on their usual lunch table, Kevin even mentally counting them in his mind to be sure that all of them were present and not anyone of their small group of friends was actually the one to be looking around for Jughead. Nope, Archie was to his side, Betty and Veronica across him; then who the hell was asking for Jughead?

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I’ll remind you

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Warnings: angst, slight swearing, death of a child, some fluff 

Word count: 2090

Summary: After a hunt gone terribly wrong the reader reveals a little secret to Dean to comfort him.

A/N: Omg guys I almost cried while writing the first half of this. Btw if someone already wrote a fic like this I’m gonna die. I was so proud when I had this idea lol. Gif is not mine [x] 

Silence. Silence was surrounding you; it weighed heavy on your chest and made you feel helpless and lost.

Dean drove the Impala through the dark night without saying one word. His grip on the steering wheel was so tight that you could see his knuckles turning white. The only sounds you could hear were the engine of Baby and the rain which drummed wildly on the roof of the car. Sam was fast asleep after the exhausting hunt you guys had just finished. You on the other hand couldn’t sleep; you were trying to focus on which raindrop would make it down the window, you were staring at, the fastest. Images of the hunt that had gone terribly wrong flashed through your mind. Tears burned in your eyes, blinking them away quickly you tried to think of something else.

This time it was really bad. It had been a kid. Jake Simmons.

The three of you had tried everything to save him in time before the vampire who had captured Jake and his parents, who were dead long before him, could hurt him.

When you had arrived at the nest it was too late. The little boy, who was no more than five years old had laid there on the cold floor of an abandoned warehouse. His clothes were all bloody and his teddy bear was a few feet away from him, also stained with blood.

Every time you closed your eyes, the sight of his lifeless body would send shivers down your spine.

So you silently sat in the backseat, with Jake’s bloody teddy bear clutched in your shaking hands, while trying to ignore the urge to cry uncontrollably.

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5

Jackson x Reader

Requested by @imginarygirl

Part One   Part Two


“It’s terrifying, he turned up at my house to give her roses, like I don’t even know how he found her!” Stiles sighed and Scott let out a low laugh.

“Not as bad as the practise you were late for, she cheered for him and he tripped, ploughed right into Greenburg.” They both laughed as they hurried over to your locker to find you attempting to stuffed bears and roses back into your locker.

“Can I burn these, is that bad… maybe I can give them to people.” You yelped and shoved a bear into the arms of a passing student.

“I think school prohibits setting fires in your locker.” Stiles mumbled as you gave up and let everything pool out on the floor.

“You just gonna leave that there?” Scott asked as you grabbed your bag and started walking to class.

“Yup.” You called back, smiling when Stiles scooted everything away from your locker to one a little way down the corridor.

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A Ticket To The Sun, 1.

Part: One • Part: Two • Part: Three (Finale)

Genre | Dystopia AU.

Pairing | Min Yoongi / Reader.

Words | 14,859 words.

Conspectus | Overpopulation of the planet leads to the unethical method of culling thousands of people once every month through a customary enlistment ballot. In such a world where your future is determined by your name on a piece of paper, life becomes much easier when you choose to be desensitised of emotions such as love and affection. But such an ideal flips completely upside down when you punch a kid called Min Yoongi in the face.

Warnings | Pining. Many references to weapons in a metaphorical sense. Mild disassociation. Sexual content. Strong angst. Death.

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George Weasley x Reader: Gifts

AN: It tisn’t the season but who doesn’t love the holidays? ;) I just want to say thank you for all of your patience! There should be another fic this week as well!

Request: Anonymous

Warnings: N/A

Christmas Eve at the Weasley’s was a magical, truly magical, event. Arthur would chop down a large tree from the forest off of Ottery St. Catchpole, and Charlie and Bill would help him drag it inside. Percy and Mrs. Weasley took great care in stringing the lights and decking the branches with ornaments and glittery tinsel. Bill would pull Ginny on his shoulders and she would place the star on top, while Ron brought out the gifts to place underneath the tree. The twins enchanted a toy train to huff and puff on the rug before the fireplace, and everyone was in high spirits as snow drifted in sheets in the yard.

Y/N had experienced this merriment once before, but it seemed to be just as special the next year. Afterall, she had started dating George on Christmas Eve and she looked forward to their private celebration on the rooftop at midnight. While sometimes she felt out of place, the Weasley’s always made her feel welcome and right at home. The bunch gathered around the supper table - all of the redheads, Hermione, Harry and Y/N included. Mrs. Weasley prepared a very succulent roast ham, as well as whipped potatoes, roasted chestnuts, and a lovely pecan pie. The room was filled with noise, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t filled with cheer.

“It looks delicious, Mrs. Weasley, really.” Y/N said, placing her napkin in her lap.

“Oh, thank you dear.” She replied, sitting down herself. “I do hope I made enough for everyone.”

Arthur Weasley was already three bites into his slice of ham. Always very intrigued with Y/N, for she came from a half muggle family, he started conversation right away.

“What is it that you called the game with the ball on the ground? And the kicking?” He asked, spitting bits of food about. Mrs. Weasley looked disgruntled.

“Football, Mr. Weasley. The Americans call it soccer. They have a world cup every few years, just like Quidditch.” Y/N replied.

“Yeah, dad. Y/N and her family got seats right next to the muggle Prime Minister!” Ron said, excitedly.

Y/N flushed a deep red.

“I-It was an h-honor.” She stammered. “I am grateful for that opportunity.”

Arthur smiled pleasantly, and went back to his food. Catching a knowing glance from Harry, Y/N’s eyes focused on her food. Y/N’s family was very wealthy, in contrast to the Weasley’s. While she knew that neither party had any qualms about the other, she didn’t like to flaunt her wealth. She thought that it was tacky.

“Next month you’re going to see the Weird Sisters in concert aren’t you, Y/N?” Bill asked, excitedly. “Fred said that you’d got backstage passes!”

Y/N almost choked on her potatoes, but swallowed quickly and dabbed at her lip with her napkin. All pairs of eyes at the table were on her.

“Y-Yes.” She said, quietly. “I feel very fortunate.”

Dinner progressed, and Y/N found herself saying very little. She hadn’t found a balance between being ashamed about her wealth and being too haughty. It seemed as though the differences between the families were shockingly obvious. Students at school who were particularly nasty would taunt George about it, and while he put on a brave face, Y/N knew he felt a little embarrassed. Her clothes were always brand new, in comparison to the Weasley’s hand-me-downs. Her potions equipment was bronzed, and her cauldron was top quality. Many of the Weasley children had to share equipment, and Ron’s cauldron was being held together by spell-o-tape.

After their meal was finished, Fred and Harry helped Mr. Weasley clean up the table, and Mrs. Weasley served the pie. Once everyone was full, they all sat by the fire and watched the train whistle. Gradually everyone slipped off to bed, except for George and Y/N.

“I’m almost ready to head out to the roof, I just have to put some finishing touches on your gift.” George said.

He hadn’t said much at dinner, refusing to make eye contact with Y/N after Ron and Bill’s display. He ate his food quietly, and seemed rather jumpy when Fred tried to coax a conversation out of him. Y/N worried she had said something to upset him, and that she had ruined their one-year anniversary. As he scampered up the stairwell, Y/N pulled out her gift to him.

It was wrapped very neatly, in red and white paper. Little holiday sayings littered the wrappings and they were enchanted to glow brightly in the dim lighting. The ribbon was curled expertly, and she had carefully scrawled his name on the tag in her best print: “Georgie <3”. She put it behind her back, and carefully climbed the staircase, ducking out the window to the roof.

George was having a minor nervous breakdown in him and Fred’s room. While Fred was in his underpants, flopped over on the bed and snoring peacefully, George rushed about the room, ruffling paper and craft supplies. He tried his best to dress up the gift, but no matter how hard he tried, it looked pathetic. The package was made of three different wrapping papers, spell-o-tape binding everything together. Multiple different Santa Clauses waved merrily at him, some in sleighs, some carrying sacks, and all bumping into each other from the wrapping job. George winced, hoping that the darkness of the night would work in his favor.

He crawled out onto the pitch of the house, and stopped dead in his tracks. Y/N was sitting, her legs dangling off of the side, and George was completely speechless. The stars looked like they sparkled in her y/h/c hair perfectly, but their shine was lackluster compared to her y/e/c eyes. They glimmered in the night like expensive jewels. When she turned to look at him, she smiled and his heart stopped completely. Y/N was the most fantastic girl in the world and his stomach trembled at what she would think of his gift.

“Georgie, open yours first!” Y/N said, excitedly shoving her package into his lap as soon as he sat down.

He chuckled, trying to relax his nerves, and ran a hand through his wild auburn hair. He held the package between his hands and Y/N snuggled into his arm. His brown eyes danced into half-moons with adoration at his lovely girlfriend. George opened the package very carefully, lifting up the tape in a way that did not rip the parchment. Y/N watched his every move with excitement.

When he finally got the wrapping off, he put the ribbon and paper to the side, saving it because he thought it was beautiful. There was a lump of shockingly green fabric. Curious, he tugged it upwards and the cloth unfurled. It was a jersey from the Irish National Quidditch Team, and for the second time that night he was speechless.

“Y/N… love…” He croaked, once he was able to get a word out.

“Look at the back Georgie!” She squealed with excitement.

He turned it around, and noticed a dark and messy scrawl on a bit of the back. His name was there, written along with a short note and a sloppy signature. George felt as if electricity was surging through his veins. He was so excited and at the same time so reluctant to give his gift to Y/N. She watched him very cautiously with bated breath, afraid that she had shamed him with her extravagant gift.

“It’s… Barry Ryan…” George murmured.

Y/N became limp. Was it the Keeper that he liked or was it one of the Chasers?

“Th-That’s your favorite right? Ryan’s the one you like?” She questioned, wanting to make sure.

“Yeah… he signed it… for me?” George said, exasperated.

“Do you like it?” Y/N asked.

“It’s… so perfect.” George said.

His cheeks were dusted with pink as he brought his gift from behind his back to show her. Y/N did indeed notice the wrapping, but she thought it couldn’t have been more perfect. It showed that George really tried to make it look presentable for her, and that he’d worked so very hard on it. She took it from him carefully, and exercised the same amount of caution that he did while opening it. Y/N placed every scrap of paper in a neat pile by her side, saving them.

Because she thought it was beautiful.

As she tore away piece by piece she slowly uncovered the present that was waiting for her. On the top was fabric as well. She unraveled it to find a beautiful white scarf, made out of very soft material. Below it was a small, leather bound book. The front was painted with wildflowers, and as she thumbed through it, she saw that most of the pages were blank and lined. The first few pages had been written in.

George had written her a love note and pasted in a photograph of the pair. In it, Y/N was sitting on George’s lap, smiling and chattering with their friends. His arms were wrapped around her, and he planted a kiss on her cheek, looking at her as if she was the most entrancing thing in the entire world.

Y/N was confused. Flourish and Blotts didn’t sell journals like this. Their journals were spiral bound, and made of much denser paper.

“Georgie…” Y/N said, softly.

George was ready to rip his hair from his head. She had gone to all of this trouble to get this signed for him and what had he gotten her? A bloody notebook and scarf.

“I know, it’s not much.” George said, pulling her into his lap. “And I’m really, really sorry. I took some odd jobs to try and save for something really nice, but…”

Y/N put her hand over his mouth.

“George, where did you get this notebook?” She asked.

He shifted uncomfortably.

“I, erm.” He seemed to not want to tell her.

She waited patiently, staring down at the cover in her hands.

“I made it.” He said. “I know you love to write. And-and I like to hear your poems and stories. So I bought the leather myself, and I… I… I painted the cover, and bound it as best as I could so nothing would fall out, and I know sometimes you’re timid about starting new things so I put a little note in there to encourage you.”

Y/N was still silent.

“And I know you’ve been eyeing that scarf in the window of Madame Malkin’s for weeks now, and I really hoped that you hadn’t gone in to buy it yet so I asked Madame Malkin to save it for me when I had the money to buy it.”

Y/N was filled to the brim with emotions, and tears started to drip from her eyes. George craned his neck to see what her expression was, and felt like his heart was stomped flat when he saw her crying.

“Oh, Y/N! Shh, shh love, I’m so SO sorry.” He said, hushing her and squeezing her tight. “I’m- I’m,”

“George this is the greatest gift I have ever gotten.” She said, quietly.

He stopped stuttering and held a look of confusion.

“Come again?” He said, blankly.

“No one has ever put this much thought into a gift for me before. George, I can’t believe you bought my favorite scarf, and the- the journal, it’s so wonderful. I love you so much, darling.” Y/N explained, tears of joy dropping wildly from her eyes.

George was so relieved he almost passed out – or passed away. He pulled Y/N back and kissed her firmly on the lips. She laughed, wiping the tears from her eyes, and the two watched the moon sail over the stars as they held each other close.

Elephant in the Room

Combination of Two Prompts: How would Batmom react to Teen Titans Robin and him not being in contact with them for so long? What would happen if she showed up at the tower? AND Dick calls Bruce and Batmom dad and mom for the first time after being adopted.

Words: 1745

AN: This was a pretty long one, but filled with fluffy feels, and I love it!!!


Your son is one of the best of his generation, and in your mother’s eye, the best. You understand why he left, you support his choice of independence, but an entire year without a call is simply too much. He stayed in contact for the first two, a random call here, and email, there, but then suddenly there was nothing.

          The only thing that let you know he was still alive were the news reports. Bruce, of course, follows every morsel of news. Though he’d never say it out loud, he knows that things need to be fixed.  You’d be willing to bet the Wayne family fortune that Dick knows the exact same thing.

          You can’t help but smile, after all, that’s what you’re here for; to beat sense into those stubborn heads. The security system is the exact same as the Batcave’s, and you’re surprised to find that your codes work.

          You let yourself in, and one quick hack into the system tells you that no one is there. So you wander, you take in the sights, and look around at the home your son has built for himself. You smile when you find his room. He’s changed his uniform a bit. There are no photos in obvious places or any real identifying marks.

          You leave the room for the common room and take a seat on the couch. You pull the photo album out and just wait. When the sound of footsteps and laughter sounds, you slip on the mask that’s needed; it actually goes rather nicely with your outfit.

          More than just his team strolls through the doors, it seems like every super powered teen in existence is there and Dick just stops at the sight of you. You stand up, and say, “I didn’t realize you’d be in the middle of a party.”

          He stiffens a bit and asks, “What are you doing here?” His voice is a bit hesitant.

          You grab your bag, and approach him. The closer you get the more you realize just how much he’s grown. You smile and say, “We need to talk.” He glances back at his friends and back to you, you just say, “I’ll wait in your room, I already know the way.”

          He watches you slide through the doors and Starfire asks, “Robin, who is that woman?”

          His voice is tight with emotion when he says “She’s my mother.”

          There’s a collective statement of “You have a mother?”

          Dick just glances at Roy and Wally, the only two not surprised and says, “Of course I have a mother.” Before he walks out of the room.

          He finds you sitting on the bed, sans mask. Before he can say a word you say, “No masks, you know the rules.”

          He doesn’t fight you on it, just removes his mask. You smile and open your arms. Sure enough he slides right into them. His head goes to your lap, and your fingers run through his hair. When the sobs come you know something happened, that there was a reason he hadn’t called.

          You let him cry, because sometimes everyone needs to, and you’d be willing to bet that your baby is long overdue. When he’s done, he slides on to the bed and tells you everything. He tells you about being held against his will by Slade, being forced to do horrible things, and then he tells you about the Brotherhood of Evil, and finally about Trigon.

          You listen as he pours out every pent up emotion, and when he’s done you don’t say anything about it. Instead you start on your own story, “Do you remember when you first came to live at the manor?”

          His brow furrows, “Of course.”

          You smile and remove a stuffed elephant from your bag, his eyes go wide at the sight of it. “You were so little and scared, and man oh man, did you remind me of Bruce. You two were the same age you know, when you lost your parents. You didn’t know what to make of us, and we weren’t really sure what to make of you to be honest. At that point we’d only been responsible for ourselves.”

          Dick smirks, “And all of Gotham.”

          You smile, as your hand strokes over the elephants worn head, “We’d never planned on kids, but when we saw you after that show, it hit us, you were ours. And then you started to grow, and you took on the family business with your dad, and I was just amazed, at how lucky we were to be blessed with a kid like you.”

          “You always made sure to keep my birth parents in the picture though. You’d talk about them with me, you’d take me to visit their graves whenever I wanted to. You even had that portrait made.”

          You grin, “That was all your dad, he didn’t want you to feel like we were replacing them.”

          “You didn’t I just got lucky  and got to have two sets of parents.”

          You smile, and there’s a moment of silence, “He misses you, you know.” Dick doesn’t say anything. “He bookmarks every newspaper article on you saving the day. Even has a subscription to the local paper. He’s very proud.”

          “He wouldn’t be proud if he knew what happened.” You smile a bit and he just groans, “How in the world does he know?”

          You smile, “He saw the footage from the top of the Wayne tower, you were stealing from.”

          “He didn’t come.”

          “He was on his way, already tracked Slade’s headquarters down and everything, when it suddenly blew up, he knew that your team had made things right. The Brotherhood of Evil was a learning experience too, and you saved the world from Trigon. When it comes down to it, you’ve done a lot of good Dick. And you’ve made a lot of friends too.”

          He smiles, “It’s the bi-yearly get together. Pizza party.”

          You groan, “Please tell me you at least eat some healthy things.”

          He smirks, “I make Alfred proud every once in awhile.”

          “Good.”

          You pass him the elephant and he smiles and you say, “I never thought you’d leave her behind.”

          He shrugs, “I outgrew her.”

          You just smile, “When you first came to live with us you refused to let her go. Took her everywhere, for that first year.”

          Dick just smiles, “You guys homeschooled me for that first year. I didn’t have to let her go.”

          You laugh, “Still, you took her to all the Wayne foundation events, to restaurants, when we’d visit your dad at work. You even insisted that she be buckled in. You also insisted on taking her to that theme park. I was against it, I just knew she’d get put down somewhere, but Bruce insisted that everything would be fine.”

          “I’d been with you guys for about eight months at that point, I was at the tail end of my Robin training.”

          You nod, “Sure enough you left her there. You were in tears, you kept saying I have to have her, we have to get her back, she’s family. And then at some point you look up at me and Bruce and you said, ‘Please Mommy, please Daddy, we have to go search for her.’ That was the first time you called us Mom and Dad. It wouldn’t become a regular thing until a few months later, but in that moment your dad and I knew we’d move heaven and earth to make you happy.”

          Dick just smiles, “That was the first time he took me out as Robin. He called it the case of the missing elephant. He helped me track her down. Someone had thrown her in the trash on top of some nachos.”

          You smile, “I had to hand wash her, and then throw her in the washing machine three times to get all that cheese off. It’s amazing she doesn’t have any stains.”

          There’s a moment of silence before he says, “I’m sorry I didn’t stay in contact.”

          You pull him in for a hug, “It’s okay, baby boy. You can make it up by coming to dinner this Friday.”

          “Mom, I don’t know if I’m …”

          You cut him off, “He misses you Dick. You’re his son, and whatever that stupid argument was about three years ago, it’s forgotten.”

          “He really wants to see me?”

          You smile, “He talks about you all the time, how proud he is of what you’ve accomplished.”

          He smiles and says, “I’ll be there.”

          “Good, you can meet your new brother.”

          His eyes go wide, “You had a, but the papers didn’t say anything about …”

          You smirk, “His name is Jason, Bruce found him trying to take the wheels off the Batmobile. He’s in training right now.”

          Dick smiles, “Good, Batman needs a Robin, and I’ve been thinking it might be time to change things up. New identity for a new chapter and all that.”

          You lean down and kiss the top of his head, “As long as Dick Grayson remains that sweet, caring, and noble boy that I’ve always known, I think that sounds wonderful.”

          He kisses your cheek, “I’ll see you Friday, Mom.”

          You smile and leave his room, slipping on the mask again before you go. Waiting outside the door are all the teen heroes. You smile and say, “Speedy, Kid Flash, you have his back right?”

          Wally just grins and says, “Always Batmom, you know that.”

          You turn to the rest of his immediate team, “Thank you for taking such good care of my son. It’s good to see he’s made excellent friends.” They’re too stunned to say anything else. You leave the tower without another word. You reach home several hours later, to find Bruce waiting up for you despite the hour.

          “Jason asleep?” you ask.

          He just smiles and says, “Yep, he and Alfred baked cookies all day, and you know what a task master Alfred is when it comes to his kitchen.” He pauses before asking, “How’s our oldest son?”

          “Coming to dinner on Friday.”

          “He’s okay though?”

          You nod, “The picture of health, seems like he made some pretty good friends, too.”

Bruce just smiles and says, “Thank God.”

          You grab his hand, “Come on Caped Crusader, time for bed.”

          He come with you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and says, “Bed sounds absolutely divine.”

utopia // stiles stilinski

Summary: Stiles & Y/N escape their perfect city of Utopia only to face the dangers of the supernatural

Requested: no, but @sincerelystiles gave me the motivation to post this & @stilinski-jpeg was beyond supportive with this idea

Pairing: Stiles & Y/N

Warning: yes, mature language, themes & smut throughout

Masterlist

By definition, it was suppose to be a perfect society but it was far from it. The concrete walls acted as a prison and the citizens were it’s inmates. It was originally suppose to be a temporary solution to the growing outbreak of the supernatural. That was 5 years ago. It was a now permanent solution as two races competed for world domination.

Each citizen was stripped of their individuality, each given a similar set of clothes and a number to replace their name. Women had to wear their hair tied back in a bun while men had to keep their hair free of any unnatural product. They were all served the same meal everyday and no matter what job they did for the colony, they all received the same amount of pay. There was absolutely no way to strive in the Utopia, making it a perfect society in the sense that everyone was equal.

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anonymous asked:

There's a lipstick stain on your shirt. Jealous and fierce Betty all the way

I’m all for that Betty, nonnie! Hope you like this! <3

47.   “There’s a lipstick stain on your shirt.”

“Oh, the remorseful husband returns.” Betty murmured with venom, violently changing the channel on the flat screen across her that she was far from watching. She could hear the door of their apartment click closed and then the casual muffling sound of coat and shoes being taken off before his lazy footsteps brought him to the dimly lit living room she was being suffocated in and internally screaming for an hour now.

“Hey, babe.” His easy-going smile found his lips at the sight of his beautiful wife, lounging in a loose t-shirt of his and a pair of tight yoga pants, the baby monitor on the side table on her right emitting the sounds of their son peacefully dreaming. “You’re still up? I thought you’d have gone to bed by now.” He popped open the top buttons of his dark blue shirt and plopped next to her, going in for a kiss only for him to come across thin air, as she turned her face away.

“Alright, is this about me not taking out the trash this morning?” Jughead sighed, already aware of their ongoing argument about how easily forgetful he was of that particular household chore. “I know you keep telling me every time and every time I forget but please is this such a big reason for us to go to bed angry at each other?” he tried to negotiate seeing as she kept staring at the muted TV with no desire in talking to him anytime soon.

“Betts, come on.” He urged her to communicate with him, like they always did with each other, dropping a light kiss on the shoulder the loose hem of his t-shirt left bare, only for her to squirm away from his touch and him to frown. “Is that not it? Am I forgetting something else?” he tried to work his mind around any other possible thing he might have done wrong but he found himself at a dead-end, clueless seeking her feminine assistance.

“What you keep forgetting is that I’m your wife.” She finally spoke slowly and in barely a whisper, her anger and stubborn tears threatening to come to surface.

“What?” Jughead spat in total confusion, bouncing his head back to take a better look at her profile.

“Where have you been all day today, Jughead?” she turned to face him for the first time, eyes stone cold upon his oblivious and worried ones.

He cleared his throat. “I had a meeting with Beck that got dragged a little out of our usual time schedule; I texted you earlier to let you know.”  He informed her casually his plans with his manager that she was already aware of, a little more casually and aloof than necessary, and Betty scoffed with a shake of her head.

“You do know that you can’t lie to me, don’t you?” she curled her arms defensively over her chest, eyes turning dark green with fury.

“I clearly don’t have a clue what you’re implying right now.” He maneuvered himself out of the situation cleverly, dropping back on the couch to focus on the TV like she was doing minutes before.

“So then I’ll stop implying and straight up ask you.” She decided to cut in to the chase, her heart drumming violently against her ribcage. “Who is she, Jughead?” she threw in the million dollar question.

“Who is who?” he blurted in a heartbeat, eyebrows knitting in complete confusion right now.

“The whore that left this on your shirt.” Her voice raised an octave angrily, snatching one of his plaid shirts from the cushions behind her and showing him the hint of burgundy lipstick on the lapel before throwing it to his face with venom. “Care to explain to me why there’s a lipstick stain on your shirt?”

“Betty” he hesitated, examining the faint shade of color on one of his shirts with bewildered eyes. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, you don’t know?” she babbled in mockery, jumping up to her feet. “Let me enlighten you then. This whole week you come and go like you’re a visitor in this house!” she accused towering over his slouching posture on the couch. “You’re gone all day, you come home late, you shower… And then this!” she grabbed the shirt from his lap, waving it around like a red flag between them. “Do you think I’m blind? Or this stupid, not to understand that something is going on with you?” her voice gained a high-pitched tone of frustration, eyes narrowing challenging for an answer.

“You’re overreacting.” Was all that Jughead said, standing up from the couch to walk away.

“Oh, don’t you dare!” she scoffed while following quickly behind him, his large strides equivalent of multiple of her running steps. “Tell me who she is!” Betty demanded in a hushed yell. “Is she that slutty editor, Janet Marrow, or-or that fake blonde secretary, what’s her name, oh, Macy? Macy!” she laughed with no humor at all at the mention of the young assistant, Betty fuming and still following her calm husband down the hall and to their bedroom. “She is always rubbing up against you, don’t even try to deny it! Tell me her name, Jughead, or help me God!” some stubborn tears fell silently down her cheeks as she grabbed him by the material of his shirt over his shoulder, twisting it in her fist and succeeding in making him stop pacing and turn around to face her.

“There isn’t a name, there is no one, I can promise you this.” Jughead stated with all honesty, blue eyes pleading for her to believe him.

“Like you promised that I’m the only woman you’ll ever love?” she spat to his face. “What changed, huh? Is it because I became the mother of your child now? What, I lost my value as a woman?” she was whisper-shouting now, not to disturb the peaceful baby in the next room, but feeling her anger boiling at the apathetic attitude of her husband. “Because I’m still beating my ass every day to lose that damn pregnancy weight or because I lounge in this apartment all day in milk stained sweatpants and messy hair? Tell me a reason why you are not here anymore!” she whined heartbreakingly and Jughead dropped his head to the ground, nodding vigorously a couple of times, before doing an one-eighty and going to the very end of their walk in closet, bringing back a small box. He opened it up and handled her an opened small notepad that held the date of her birthday on top and then a list of plans under it.

“For this.” He sighed defeated, rubbing the back of his head before focusing back on her. “Polly and I are planning a surprise birthday party for you. We booked your favorite restaurant and all those days we were planning how to fly everyone to Boston without you knowing; her with Ethan and the twins, your mom, my dad, Veronica, Archie, Kevin and everyone else from Riverdale because you miss them all terribly and now with little bug we wouldn’t be able to fly there.” Her heart broke at the revelation, lips opening in surprise at the change of events, as she read his words on paper along with reservation dates and menu instructions. “And then I had to organize these.” he gave her a travel leaflet, again with a paper filled with plans and flight times and dates stashed inside it. “A week-long trip in Bali because you love warm, sunny places and we both, and especially you, deserve all the rest in the world after all those months with the baby.” New tears were now streaming down her face, Betty feeling awful at how unfair she had been towards him, when all he did was continuing to be an amazing partner for her.

“As for the stain, I assume that’s left by Jellybean when I went to pick her up from the airport two days ago, right after I stopped by the jewelry shop to confirm that my order was ready to be picked up in a week.” His eyes softened against her own now soft features, taking every plan-containing paper from her hands and dropping them to their master bed, before refocusing on her. “She came to help with the preparations and then to stay with little bug when we leave for our trip and you know how she sports those freaky dark lipsticks all the time, so I believe the smudged stain came from when she hugged me in full force upon running off the arrivals like a mad woman.” He laughed slightly at that, before turning serious again. “I can call Polly or Jellybean to confirm all of these right now, or if you think they would be lying on my behalf, you can call the restaurant yourself or I can drop by the travel agency tomorrow and see if I can get our tickets earlier, I don’t know…”He tried to list all the possible solutions for her to believe him with a sigh. “I just want you to know that—” Betty cut him off, fingers going to his chapped lips.

“You love me.” She whispered through her silent tears, green eyes turning up to look at him in remorse.

“Of course I do, you dork.” He smirked adorably down at her, enveloping her inside his arms.

“Even when I become a psychotic bitch still from all the bumped up hormones?” she pouted in all cuteness, hiccupping a little around the words.

“Then, even more so.” He told her truthfully bopping his nose against hers. “Even though we both know that’s not the hormones talking; you’re being a spitfire like always.” He reminded her with clever raised eyebrows, making her fake a groan in defeat.

“I was just scared that you were going to leave me.” She admitted in a small girly voice, letting her concerns flow out of her now burden-free chest.

“How can I possibly leave the source of my breathing?” Jughead stated beautifully in a heartbeat. “Seriously, Betts, after all those years, do you really think that I would ever cheat on you?” he pulled back a little to look at her, eyes turning a tad sad at the thought of her not trusting him or his genuine and intense feelings completely.

Betty shook her head to ease his mind. “I just… I mean I still look like a whale on steroids, I wouldn’t blame you for losing your interest.” She shrugged with a perpetual pout on her wet lips, buttoning and unbuttoning a button of his shirt, not daring to look him in the eye.

“What are you talking about? You look more breathtaking than ever, babe.” He rushed to validate her worth as a human being and as an amazing woman. “And I believe you know what you’re doing to me every time my eyes linger a little longer on that sinfully sexy body of yours.” His voice dropped an octave and became huskier, effectively sending shivers down her spine as he whispered next to her ear and dropped a simple kiss against her pulse point, though enough to make her heart hummer inside her chest. 

“However, you being jealous of me, is still quite entertaining to watch.” he teased her with a cocky smirk and earned a smack against his chest and a “watch it, mister” look under her eyelashes, both of them landing in a fit of giggles.

“I really don’t deserve you. And all those things you organized, Juggie, you shouldn’t have.” She ran her hands up his arms and rested them behind his neck, lifting herself on her tiptoes to rest her forehead against his in affection.

“Oh, of course I did.” He whispered, pecking her lips once. “Anything for the woman of my life.” He stated with so much love and devotion in his eyes that Betty swore he fell in love with him all over again in that moment. “Just please, try to act surprised on the actual day, okay? Polly and I had a bet on whether or not I’ll crack and spill everything to you and I really don’t wanna face the life-long mockery of your sister.” He admitted in all seriousness and Betty laughed, head thrown back in joy, before promising him that and many more inside the heated kisses that followed.

2k followers little prompts

The Law Of Attraction for Manifesting And Self-Confidence:

Q: Hi! I’ve found your blog not long ago and I am really loving it! I was wondering if you could give me your opinion/advice on how to manifest material things, but also I feel like I’m not too confident about myself and this is reflecting my outcome, but Idk how to change it. Thank you very much :) 

A: I am actually SO excited to answer a question on confidence. I have alot of help to give you, as it’s a very personal topic for me too. Attracting material things is covered at my best in the following post. Digest it and re-visit the page often. Each step will easily attract to you material things. Start with a medium sized goal, and you should have a result within 30 days. (Let me know what manifestations happen as a result of that, as they sure will happen!)

And now, for the key to success, the key to how happy your life will be and the key to how many opportunities come your way: Self-Confidence. Your confidence comes from your concept of yourself. Your concept of yourself was programmed from since before your birth and includes your parents, how much they earned, where they lived, and every thought you were exposed to in your childhood. It is hard to find a single person who has had a perfect image of themselves, therefore. Your concept of yourself is basically opinions that people share and over time they become accepted. An example is the girl that believes she is shy, and her family and friends also “agree”, would never ask out her teenage crush. There is no physical barrier to her doing this; she could walk up to him and she can say the words. But her concept of herself is the psychological reason her legs and mouth wouldn’t coordinate with her. 

You’re right that confidence will affect your outcome. It will affect the level of money you earn, where you live, who you befriend, etc. Here are some exercises that will cause your awareness to grow;

1. Headline a sheet of paper “The Truth About Me!” and write under it as close to this: The energy that made worlds, made me also. I am confident, I believe in myself, I enjoy being me. I know I am worthy of all that I desire. I am powerful and have a magnetic personality.” Read this statement every day. 

2. In the mirror, look into each eye separately and say to yourself “I am confident. I love me.” It will feel funny but its the surest fastest way to communicate with your Soul. 

3. If you were more confident, how would you act? Talk? Dress? Set 30 minutes aside each day and visualize in your imagination all these things. See your friends saying “you’re so much more confident now!”, and “Wow I can’t believe you did that! Where is this confidence coming from? You gotta spill!” etc, etc. The more intensely you do this, the more you’ll notice you start to take action towards that now. 

4. Read Psycho-Cybernetics by Dr Maxwell Maltz. I believe there are copies available on Amazon and PDFs on the internet too. Ignore the title, it is basically a plastic surgeon turned psychologist who wrote about self-confidence. The book is written in a simple style and you’ll really, really love reading it. Trust me. It will help you along your way. 

5. Play a confidence or self-love guided affirmation tape daily. Ideally in bed at night. I found one for you that has binaural beats which means it will stimulate your brain to learn confidence faster: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iCJkTXS4LoA

*I now provide private law of attraction e-coaching. To know more please read here.*

First Instinct

Featuring: Daddy!Namjoon, You

Warnings: dd/lg themes

Written by: Admin V

Attentive was his second nature; protecting you was his first instinct.

Originally posted by keepingupwithbts

The apartment was quiet.

Namjoon shut the door behind him softly. The place was mellow, only soft yellow lights illuminating the place. The air was still, no movement. City lights peeped in through the windows, little dots here and there.

Stepping out of his shoes and placing his bag on the table, Namjoon made his way to the only room that was still lit.

Your room.

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