if anyone really wanted to respond

      I-I don’t have anyone to celebrate today with me I don’t think anyone would really
        want a big rabbit stinking up their Thanksgiving. Plus, the Aftons never really celebrated
        this holiday in the first place
 but, you know, at least I have my cat, Cheese.
                     She is a godsend
. ’

You know what I do not see enough appreciation for? AtLA’s historical allusions. I don’t just mean in terms of the dress and art and things like that, though that definitely is cool. I mean in the fact that it dealt with the suppression of Tibetan Buddhists and Imperial Japan’s colonialism and racism and the attempt to wipe out Native cultures. And it shows all the different ways people respond to these issues, from the blithe disregard of the people at the Northern Air Temple to Jet and Hama’s extremism to Pakku’s ironclad grip on tradition to Katara’s balance of change and presevation to the Fire Nation children’s casual racism to Zuko’s gradual unlearning to Aang’s desperate fight to ensure his culture survives. AtLA was so much more political than people give it credit for. That shit is really cool and complex and if anyone wants to talk about that, I am always down.

everyone likes to assume that yoongi must not be very good at english since he hardly ever talks but does anyone notice the fact that when he does talk, his speaking is a lot more structured compared to the other members?? and also he tends to have the perfect reaction to most english statements/questions before namjoon even translates them…….. I feel like this goes for the rest of the members too. It may seem like they don’t understand, but I think that’s just because they’re nervous and in the moment they can’t really think of how to respond properly since so many people are watching them and they don’t want to make a mistake. If they actually had the luxury of taking their time to process and think of a response, they would definitely be more confident in speaking

also now that we know the boys understand more english than they let on, please be careful of the things you put on the internet out of pure ignorance……… bangtan is obviously known for their social media presence but I really fear that one day that won’t be the case due to some stupid fuck who decides it would be fun to send them a rude/sexual/inappropriate/threatening message. constant communication with their fans through social media isn’t something they’re forced to do. they literally WANT to interact with us as much as they can even though it would be so much easier to lay low and keep their personal lives private. please don’t be the reason bangtan becomes hesitant to communicate with their own fans. show some respect.

Testosterone Boys

Reader x F*ckboi!Yoongi ft. Taehyung
Synopsis: 
A little end of the year party tradition gets taken too far.
Genre: Smutty, Angst
Word Count: 7.1k
Part 1 of 2


Originally posted by dreamyoongi


“No! It’s not happening.”  

“C'mon. It’s harmless. Seriously, it’d be like a chill thing.”

“No, Yoongi. There’s no way I’m doing that.”

“Why not? There’s seriously no ill feelings behind it, I only need them for a little bit and then you’ll get it back.”

“Why can’t you take no for an answer, Loser. I’m not giving you my underwear. Bye.”  

Yoongi sighed as he followed you outside of the house party to the backyard. The music pounded through the walls from inside, blaring fast beats and obscene profanities, echoing past numerous houses down the street. The cold air hit your cheeks that were tinted red from the alcohol and the heat of the copious amounts of bodies ‘bumping and grinding’ on one another.  

Even outside, the yard was filled with scattered groups and couples. Each of them drinking from those infamous red, plastic cups, taking hits off of each others blunts, or connected to their partners lips. Pushing past them was no easy task, consistently bumping into intoxicated bodies as you made your way to the empty swinging loveseat.

You ran your hand through your hair as you sat, attempting to catch a breath. The party was suffocating. It seemed as though people flooded every room, corner, crevice and pocket the household had. The bathroom; occupied by two girls from your Literature class going down on the All-Star Quarterback whose only response to the disturbance was “Do you wanna join?”

The bedrooms were either locked and if they weren’t you wouldn’t dare go into them anyways. Oh no, you’d learned your lesson the first time you’d ever gone to a house party of this size. Turns out, High Schoolers were a lot kinkier than you could ever have thought.  

Any other room was full of people trying too hard to impress their peers when in the end it didn’t even matter. You never saw the point in these fiascos. High School lasts 4 years and then it’s over with and you don’t ever see these people again. They weren’t important to you in the long run.

So, why were you here in the first place? Well you could thank your 'best friend’ for that. Park Jimin. After well, years, of begging for you to try another party saying, “It won’t be like the first one, I promise. I won’t leave your side and we’ll have fun, just the two of us, okay?” He finally got you to agree to try it once more making him swear he really wouldn’t leave you alone at any point during the party. But, here he was; weak as a kitten as soon as his ex walked in, begging for some alone time to 'talk’.

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The Fourth Musketeer

Originally posted by riverdales-daily

Pairing: Archie x Reader

Description: A small comment from Betty triggers many painful memories for Archie about a lost love.

Warnings: angst?

Word count: 1,405

Tag list: @isis278 @lost-in-wonderland-x @spam-to-follow

A/N: so this isn’t based off of any request, I was just inspired to write this fic. hope you enjoy!


“It’ll be like old times,” Betty said, hopeful eyes staring at Archie.

“The three musketeers,” he laughed.  Betty bit her lip, her smile slightly fading.

“Actually, Archie,” she corrected, “there were four of us.”

“(Y/N)!” a newly-turned six year old Archie exclaimed.  "I didn’t think you were gonna come!“

"Of course I came!” (Y/N) giggled, stepping into the Andrews house.  "You’re my best friend.“ Archie pulled (Y/N) into a hug.

"You’re my best friend too, (Y/N),” he grinned.

“Yeah, four of us,” Archie muttered, turning away from Betty. She frowned, realizing she reopened that wound too soon.

“I’m sorry Archie, I didn’t mean-”

“It’s fine, Betty,” Archie grimaced.

“No, I shouldn’t have brought it up,” she apologized.

“But there were four of us,” Archie admitted.  "I guess I was just trying to forget the fourth.“

"Why do we only come here when they play this movie?” ten year old (Y/N) questioned, gesturing towards the movie playing on the Twilight Drive-In screen.  Archie shrugged, wrapping his arm around (Y/N)’s shoulders.

“Because it’s my favorite,” he replied.  (Y/N) rolled her eyes.

“Don’t you want to watch something else for a change?” she asked, looking up at him with a smile.  "You know, discover something new?“

"No,” Archie refused her suggestion, immaturely shaking his head.  "I like things just the way they are.“

Archie couldn’t get (Y/N) out of his head for the rest of the day.  Throughout school, and after school during the preparations for Jughead’s party, Archie’s mind kept going back to (Y/N).  For two years, he had blocked out all memories of her.  Now, she was pictured clear in his mind.  Her memory was haunting him, and Archie could do nothing but push through the day as if nothing was wrong.

"Archie,” (Y/N) whimpered, standing on his front porch.  He ran out towards her and enveloped her in a hug as soon as he reached her.

“What?” he asked, burying his face into her hair.  "What’s wrong?“  (Y/N) gripped onto his t-shirt, her hands desperately holding onto her best friend.

"I’m moving,” she sobbed.  "I’m moving next month.“  Archie’s arms dropped, and he took a step back.

"Moving?” he echoed.  "But what about 8th grade?“  (Y/N) helplessly shrugged, tears continuing to roll down her cheeks.  "It’s our last year before high school. We were gonna…”  The rest of Archie’s sentence was stuck in his throat.

“I know,” she cried.  "I know, Archie. You think I wanted this?“  He frantically shook his head.

"No, no, of course not.”

“We’re leaving in July,” she explained.  "I tried to convince my parents not to move, or at least to leave me behind.“

"You could stay with us,” Archie offered.  A bittersweet smile creeped onto (Y/N)’s lips.

“I know,” she said. “I told them that.”

“Jesus, (Y/N),” Archie mumbled as he stumbled into his bedroom, ignoring the party going on downstairs.  "(Y/N).“  He repeated her name over and over again, reminiscing on the way her name felt on his tongue.  All the memories that he had hidden away from himself came tumbling back, and he was suddenly overwhelmed with emotions that he had forgotten how they felt.  He frustratedly tugged at his hair, struggling to cope with his feelings.  Her sparkling eyes and joyous laugh were still engraved in the back of his mind.  How could he ever forget?  "God, (Y/N), I’m so sorry.”  He continued to drunkenly pace around his room, head spinning with memories of (Y/N).  Every moment they shared, every hug they had, every chance he missed to tell her he loved her.  He missed every single opportunity he had to tell her.  "I should’ve told her,“ he moaned.  An idea lit up in Archie’s mind, so he began to search his room.  He tossed clothes and blankets aside until he found his phone laying on his nightstand.  He picked it up and immediately dialed (Y/N)’s number by memory.

"I’m sorry, this number no longer exists,” the monotonous robot answered his call.  Archie screamed out in frustration, throwing his phone across his room against the wall.

“I want to talk to her!” he screamed, punching his bed.  "I need her!“

"Archie?” Veronica called out as she cautiously his room.  He paused his rampage as he turned to face the raven-haired girl.

“What?” he snapped.

“You’re making a lot of noise,” Veronica ignored the bite in his voice.  "I wanted to make sure you’re okay.“

"I’m not…” he clutched his head, sitting down on his bed, “I’m not okay.  She’s gone.”

“Who?” Veronica questioned, sitting next to Archie.

“(Y/N),” he moaned.  "(Y/N)’s gone.“

"Who’s that?” Veronica asked.  Archie glared at her and stood up, stepping away from her.

“I loved her,” he whispered, flopping back onto his bed.  Veronica frowned.  "God, I should’ve left Riverdale when my mom offered.“

"But then we would’ve never met,” Veronica quipped.  "And that, Archiekins, would be a tragedy of epic proportions.“  She glanced at his lips, then back up to his eyes.  Leaning in, she connected her lips with his.  It only lasted a moment before Archie pulled away.

"No, Veronica,” he stopped her.  "I’m sorry, but… you’re not her.“

"I’m sorry,” she apologized.  "That was stupid and selfish of me, I shouldn’t have-“

"It’s fine,” Archie interrupted her.  "It’s not your fault, I just… the wound is still kinda fresh, you know?“  Veronica nodded.

"She sounds lovely,” she offered.  "Can you tell me about her?“  Archie inhaled deeply.

"We were best friends,” he started, and a smile already grew on his face.  "Our parents were good friends, so we knew each other since birth.  We were two peas in a pod.  Then we met Jughead and Betty, and we became the four musketeers.  We’d do everything together.  But (Y/N) and I were still the closest.“

"When did you fall in love with her?” Veronica inquired.

“I think I always was,” Archie answered truthfully.  Veronica sighed; she knew there was no competing with even the memory of (Y/N).  "But I don’t think I realized it until I kissed her.“

"Did you know some people have already had their first kiss?” (Y/N) asked Archie as she sat on a swing.

“Like who?” he questioned.  They were eleven.

“I heard Cheryl kissed someone,” (Y/N) shrugged.  "I don’t know who though.“

"She could be lying,” Archie said.

“Josie, too,” (Y/N) interjected.

“Maybe they kissed each other,” Archie laughed, and (Y/N) giggled with him.  Once their laughs died down, they swung in silence.

“Who do you want to be your first kiss?” (Y/N) broke the silence.

“I don’t know,” Archie shrugged.  "What about you?“

"There’s not really anyone I want to kiss,” she answered.  "The only good guys in Riverdale are you and Jughead.“

"Would you kiss Jughead?”

“Ew, no!” she squealed.  "Jughead is like my brother!“

"Am I a brother to you?” Archie asked.  (Y/N) grew quiet and shrugged.

“You’re my best friend, Arch,” she responded.

“So does that mean you would kiss me?” he smirked.  (Y/N) blushed.

“Would you kiss me?” she countered, causing Archie to blush.  They both grew quiet, each embarrassed by the thought of kissing each other.

“I’d want you to be my first kiss,” he said.  (Y/N)’s head snapped up to look at Archie.

“Really?” she asked.  He nodded.  "I want you to be my first kiss too.“

"What if…” Archie nervously stuttered, “What if we did it now?  Like, kiss each other.  Just so that we’re definitely each other’s first kiss.”  (Y/N) pretended to contemplate it for a moment, but she already knew her answer.

“Sure,” she agreed nonchalantly.  Her heart was about to beat out of her chest.  Archie jumped off of the swing and stepped towards (Y/N).  Both of their eyes fluttered closed, and they pressed their lips against each other’s.  They pulled apart a second after, a blush spreading across both of their cheeks.  Archie hopped back onto the swing next to (Y/N).  Neither of them spoke about the kiss.

“Do you think she knew?” Veronica asked.  Archie raised a puzzled eyebrow.  "Do you think she knew that you loved her?“ she elaborated.  Archie shrugged.

"Maybe,” he responded.  "I hope so.  I never told her, though.  God, I should’ve told her.“

"Hey,” Veronica reached a comforting hand out towards Archie.  "Don’t beat yourself up over it.  From what you told me, it sounds like she knew.“

"You think so?”

“I do,” Veronica nodded.  "And from what I can tell, I think she loved you too.“

Part two here     Part three here     Part four here     Part five here

Night Owls--Harry Hook x Reader

Disclaimer-I don’ t own any of the Descendants characters all credit goes to the creators and producers of Disney Descendants 

Summary-You are a part of Uma’s crew, and you have a crush on Uma’s first mate, Harry Hook. One night, you get caught wondering in the deck by Harry himself.

Originally posted by unchxxrted

You take in the sight around you. The fresh salty air blowing through your hair as you breath it all in. Oh how you loved the sea. You hoped to one day be able to set sail on the open waves once again, but that was impossible, since the magical barrier prevented anyone from leaving this foul place. 

 It was dark outside and every one of the crew members were asleep. Being one of the lower ranked members of Captain Uma’s crew, you never really get a chance to enjoy the view of the ocean and horizon. You were mostly instructed to stay below deck, watching all the supplies to ensure nothing went missing. The only times you ever came above deck was when you went out to get a meal at Ursula’s Fish and Chips shop. Not much ever really happened on the Jolly Roger. The only reason you really stayed in this crew was because of Harry Hook. 

He was Uma’s first mate, son of Captain Hook, and the only person able to make you blush by just glancing at you. His tall, tanned figure towered above you and and the majority of the crew members. His clothes consisted of red and black, and many layers of leather, with a hat that shields his hair, though you occasionally saw him without it, revealing a thick mane of dark hair. Even his facial features were sharper than the hook he carried around to seem more like his father. 

But what always caught you’re attention the most were his eyes. He had blue eyes that were lighter than the sea, and stood out even more when he outlined them with black liner. They mostly held a stern look, but occasionally held affection and care. They showed his passion, his triumph, and his determination to make it known that Uma and her crew were not to be messed with. You admired that to most. 

But you never got to spend time with him. He was always commanding the others, carrying out Uma’s demands while you listened to his voice from down below. His Scottish accent was never hard to miss, and hard to resist. Even when the crew was at the chip shop, you sat on the far side of the counter while he was by Uma’s side, causing mischief with other members by shoving them and showing his dominance over them. He did that to the entire crew. 

Well, everyone except Uma. 

And you. 

Too busy in your own thoughts, you failed to hear the scuffle of boots along the deck. With a clearing of his throats you turned your head, and your breath hitched. 

There, before you in all his glory, was Harry himself. He was without his coat or hat, only his leather pants and belt clung loosely on his waist, his torn undershirt over his chest. His hair was uncovered, all tangled and rearranged, from tossing and turning in his sleep you assumed. He smirked a little, and slowly walked towards you. 

“Well, well, well,” he smiled, his stare never leaving your own. “What do we have here? A little night owl hovering about?” 

His voice seemed playful, but then again, he always used a playful tone when he knew he had the upper hand. You gulped, not wanting to respond. “Aw, why so quiet, catfish caught yer tongue?” 

You remained silent, which only made him chuckle. He came closer, making you pull away. You knew you were gonna be in trouble, since you weren’t supposed to be up and about in the middle of the night. It was one of Uma’s rules. 

He continued to snicker, watching you tremble under his gaze. You shifted your eyes to the ground, catching the glare of his hook on one of his belt loops. You began to pant. 

“I-I’m sorry, H-Harry,” you whispered, still shaking. 

“Ah she speaks!” He mocked, taking his right hand to lift your chin. “What are ye doing wondering around late at night. Uma would make ye fish bate if she found out.” 

You took a deep breath. “I-I don’t know, couldn’t sleep I guess.” He didn’t respond. For awhile he looked at you, as if he was trying to remind himself where he had seen you. Then, he remembered. “You work below deck, don’t ya?” You nodded the best you can, since his finger still held your chin up. He smiled a bit, but not in a evil way. “Uh huh, I’ve seen you around, you talk with that Gary fella, right?” 

Gary was your friend, though he wanted to be more. You always rejected him, but continued to talk to him nonetheless, since you didn’t really know anyone else. 

“Y-Yes,” you stuttered. 

“Poor fella, I’ve seen his attempts, yet ye never give him the light of day.” He snickered again. “What’s your name, little owl?” 

“Y-Y/N.” 

He kept looking at you, watching as your chest rose and fell at a steady pace. Then he spoke again. “So tell me, Y/N. Why don’t ya give the lad a chance, aye?” 

You thought about it for a moment and said, “He isn’t my type.” Your courage began to grow slightly as the lack of space between the two of you increased by the minute. 

His hand move from your chin to rest it on the post that pinned you, just to the left side of your head. His toned biceps came to view as he barely whispered, “And what, my little owl, is your type?” 

You couldn’t help the shiver as his breath fanned over your lips. You didn’t know what to do, what to say. Here you were, pinned to the mast post, in the middle of the night, by the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen, who is asking you what your type was. You so desperately wanted to tell him that the only person to make your heart soar and butterflies to erupt was the one standing in front of you, but you couldn’t. You froze. 

Harry waited for your answer, but then he spoke up, “Well, do you know what my type is?” He smiled, leaning closer to you. You shook your head. His eyes flickered from your eyes to your lips and back, smirking at your obvious heavy breaths. 

“My type,” he said barely above a whisper, “is a shy, timid girl, one no one really likes to point out.” You were confused as you why he was telling you this, but let him go on anyway. He pushed back a piece of hair behind your ear with left hand, letting it gently stroke your cheek as he continued. 

“My type is a girl who tries to steal glances of me, thinking I can’t see her, when I actually catch her every time, trying to do the same thing.” His hand continued down, stroking your jaw and collar bone, down your shoulder and arm until he grasped your right hand. He looked down at your two hands and smiled. 

“My type is the one who doesn’t fight for my affection, the one who only need to laugh to make my head spin.” He spoke, lifting your hand ever so carefully, sensing your ease as your shakiness subsided. He looked straight into your eyes, bringing your hand closer to his lips, gently placing a kiss onto it, and never breaking eye contact, not before he spoke, with a voice barely audible, “My type is you, Y/N.” 

His words ran a shiver up your spine, your eyes meeting his light ones. You wanted to tell him you felt the same way, but your heart was racing at his confession. His smile grew at your reaction, evolving in to a full on grin. He took this moment to admire you. 

Your long H/C hair circling your face as the wind blew it and how the moonlight reflected the glow in your E/C eyes. His thumb gently touched your bottom lip, which were oh so tempting. 

He couldn’t take it anymore. 

He leaned in and captured his lips with yours, caressing both your cheeks as he did. To say you were shocked was an understatement. Your eyes were wide, as you didn’t know what to do at first, until you kissed him back. Once he felt you giving into him, he pulled you closer by your waist, allowing your right hand to stroke up his arm. He went to deepen the kiss, biting your bottom lip and giggling when you let out a little squeal. He picked you by your thighs, pushing you harder against the post, never letting the kiss end. You let out a gasp as you felt his lips leave yours, only to latch onto your neck, and up to the sensitive skin by your ear, nibbling it ever so slightly. Your fingers ran through his hair, earning a groan from him as you did so. He soon returned to your lips, picking the pace back up. 

Eventually, you pushed against him, your breaths heavy, leaving your hands to rest against his chest. He looked up at you, a cocky smile on his face. 

“So, I guess I’m yer type then, aye?”

casthewise-redirect  asked:

How about Dean and Cas as University professors? Where one is a leather-jacket-wearing, motorcycle-driving badass and the other wears sweater vests and dorky glasses? And none of their students realize they're married until some event happens that ends with someone witnessing them kissing goodbye in front of one of their offices?

Gossiping is a powerful urge. University students are by no means exempt from it, despite ostensibly being intelligent adults. So when one sunny Monday morning, Professor Novak shows up to class with a visible hickey on the side of his neck, the rumor mill goes spinning out of control.

Because, yeah, Novak is good looking but he’s always seemed kind of… untouchable. Like a monk, but a hot one.

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When using dating sites, I like to use a test when someone messages me. I read it and then don’t respond for a full 24 hours. It’s amazing how quickly people (mostly men) go from “wow you’re really beautiful” to “fine bitch I didn’t want your ugly ass anyway” or something like that. 24 hours is a perfectly reasonable amount of time to wait before responding, you’ve got stuff going on, this stranger is not entitled to your time. Anyone worth dating isn’t going to flip out over waiting 24 hours for a response. Some might call this “playing games”…I call it weeding.

"I'm not your blind date but you came over and I was eating alone so I went with it and now you're calling me by a different name" AU

I found this prompt on a Tumblr blog but I accidentally deleted the post and now I can’t find the prompt anymore

Lena was sitting alone. She twirled the neck of the wine glass in her left hand, her phone in her right as she responded to work emails. Jess kicked her out of the office almost an hour ago, going on about how she shouldn’t be working on her birthday and she deserved one day off for herself. Problem is Lena always had days to herself. Her days were always “her” days if she didn’t have anyone to share them with. She looked down at the red rose on the table before her, Jess’ gift to her, and let herself smile slightly. Jess was a good assistant, she meant well, and she seemed to care when no one else did.

So that’s why she listened and came here to this restaurant when she really wanted to finish responding to her emails and get a head start on tomorrow’s project. The place wasn’t the fanciest she’s been, but she wasn’t about to go to one of the high-class places she frequented when she didn’t have a date. It was nice enough: low lighting, decent wine selection, and she got a small booth in the back so no one would bother her. Her plan was to come out, grab a quick bite, and then finish work at home.

She was so focused on her phone that she hadn’t noticed the woman walk up to her booth. There was a small tap on her shoulder then, and she was slightly annoyed that anyone would interrupt her when she purposely picked this booth to avoid being bothered. She turned to look up quickly, an annoyed “Can I help you?” on the tip of her tongue, when she came face-to-face with a literal angel, the words dying before they formed. Her jaw went slack as she took in the stunning being before her.

The woman had the bluest eyes Lena had ever seen, even under the minimal lighting of the place and the black rimmed glasses she wore. Her hair fell in soft golden waves, across the shoulders of her beige jacket and blue top. She had a pair of black pants that hugged her hips and a nice pair of boots to match. She looked dressed up, yet still casual, and it suddenly made Lena feel self-conscious about the tight fitting black dress and tight ponytail she wore.

“It was supposed to be yellow,” the woman said, pointing at the flower on the table.

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Jealousy (Yoongi Smut)

Originally posted by bangtanbtsmut

Requested: No
Words: 2792
Warnings: angst? (I’m not sure if you can actually consider this angst), smutttttt
Description: You and Yoongi come back from a date, which was ruined by Yoongi being jealous. While trying to tease him, things get heated….
~~~~~~~~~~~
You stormed into the house, immediately taking your heels off after entering and putting them beside the door.

You heard the door close, and that was like a signal for you to go off. “What the hell, Yoongi? Can’t we just have one normal date? Why do you always have to ruin it?” You questioned, turning towards your boyfriend.

“I didn’t ruin anything.” He said simply, making you more angry than you already were.

“You ruined everything! This was supposed to be a perfect, amazing date, but you just had to  get us kicked out of that restaurant, didn’t you?” You asked. “You love causing problems, don’t you?”

Yoongi began taking his shoes off while he spoke. “It’s not my fault. That waiter kept hitting on you. What else was I supposed to do?” He questions.

You rolled your eyes, recollecting the memory from about an hour ago when your boyfriend of two years had “accidentally” poured his drink on the male waiter that happened to be serving your table.

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Set Up || Min Yoongi

Originally posted by bangtannoonas

Word Count: 1.3k

Genre: Fluff


“It’s getting ridiculous Yoongi.” You said, dropping your bag onto the chair and walking over to the couch, plopping yourself down and resting your head against the back of the cushion. The two of you had just returned from spending the evening together walking around town doing nothing.

Of course Yoongi had been wearing a mask so as not to get recognized, and the two of you had just been walking around, occasionally stopping at stores to take a look around and browse. The night had slowly come to an end when you had gotten a phone call from one of the other members asking your what you were up to. You had to lie to Jungkook and tell him that you were out alone, looking for something for a friend.

The conversation between the two of you had started off nice and polite, as it usually did, but then it turned on to the topic of your boyfriend. Jungkook was talking about setting you up on a date with him again and you couldn’t help but feel the annoyance rise up inside you.

None of the other members knew about your relationship yet because of the fact that you had wanted to keep it a secret between the two of you before exposing it to everyone else. It was yours, and you didn’t feel the need to share it with anybody else.

“I know Y/N. I’m sorry that they keep bugging you like this.” Yoongi said, coming over and sitting on the couch with you. He pulled you close and you found yourself sliding into his lap like you normally would. When it was just the two of you, you couldn’t keep your hands of of each other, always wanting to be close to each other. But in front of others you two barely gave each other a second glance.

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Evening Classes & FaceTime Calls

Raphael Santiago imagine

Summary: You were turned into a vampire a couple of years ago on the disastrous night you’ve died. When the new guy, Simon, needs to learn some things, you help him, but not without running into some trouble getting back to the hotel, making Raphael very angry for getting in trouble. But why?

A/N: I’m about to leave on a trip to Amsterdam. I’m hoping to get some writing done, but I can’t promise anything. I hope you’ll like this one.

Prompts: “Are you hitting on me?” – “Wrong day to piss me off.” – “My weekend plans did not involve dying.”

Masterlist



“Ugh.” You let out a deep sigh and let yourself fall onto the sofa, leaning your head backwards. You stared at the ceiling for a couple of seconds, before closing your eyes.

“That bad huh?” You opened your eyes to see Raphael staring in your eyes from above you, trying not to smile.

“Can you remind me once more why I thought this would be a good idea?” You asked, still leaning your head backwards, looking up at him.

He moved to come sit besides you on the couch, making you turn your head so you were laying on your ear, still not lifting you head up.

“For the record, I never said taking evening classes was a good idea.” He leaned his arm against the couch, and rested his head against his hand.

You closed your eyes and let out another sigh. “I know, it’s just,” you paused, searching for the right words, but Raphael finished your thoughts for you. “You never got the chance while you were human, I know.” He looked at you with sorrow in his eyes. “I get it, I died at fifteen. I missed out on a lot of things as well.”

You looked away from his eyes, not wanting to show the pity you felt for him, as it would only make the situation even worse.

You lifted your head up just a bit. “Raphael,” you silently started, but you got interrupted when the new guy walked in.

“Wow, who died in here?” Simon said when he felt the vibe in the room, making Raphael glare at him, while you just looked at him out of the corner of your eyes.

“Wrong crowd.” He muttered when he saw your expressions.

You lifted your head when you thought about something. “You’re smart, right?” You asked suddenly, making both of the guys look at you.

“Uhm, I guess?” He said, sounding insecure.

“Is there a chance you could help me with my statistics class?” You asked hopeful.

“Sure.” He grinned.

“Actually,” Raphael added from beside you, “could you help him as well? You know, some training and vamp 101 stuff.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Vamp 101 stuff?”

Raphael rolled his eyes. “You know what I mean.”

“Sure.” You gave Simon a small smile, and turned your gaze back at Raphael. “By the time we’ll be done with each other, I’ll be a mathematical genius, and he’ll be the best vampire you’ve ever seen.”

Raphael let out a small snort. “Sure.” He nodded while being sarcastic. “Be sure to be back by five.”

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Virginity

Requested - Hi! Could you write something with Aaliyah and Y/N. Like they get along pretty well and like Aaliyah asks Y/N about losing Virginity (Y/N lost it very soon) or something like that. Thanks!

Requested - Heyy, I have an imagine request 💕 so, you’re visiting Shawn in Canada and he’s busy, so you end up spending time with Aaliyah (like take her shopping or out for milkshakes or something) and Shawn finds out and he thinks it’s really sweet and fluff fluff fluff

Your name: submit What is this?

~~~

“Baby, I’m so sorry,” Shawn says for what seems like the hundredth time as he glances over at you briefly before refocusing his eyes on the road in front of him.

“Don’t be.” You respond with a cheeky smile. “I get to drive your jeep and hang out with your sister, so it’s a win-win for me.”

“Have I told you lately that you’re the best?” He asks.

“Maybe once or twice,” you tease, a smile on your face as you genuinely appreciate this time you’re getting to spend with your boyfriend, even if it isn’t a lot. You came to Canada to visit him, but he ended up having to rehearse at the last minute, which kind of ruined your original plans for the afternoon.

The drive to his rehearsal space goes by far too quickly, and before you know it you’re driving his jeep out of the parking lot on your way to pick up Aaliyah from school. Since Shawn ended up being busy, you offered to pick up his sister from school and take her to the mall. You’ve grown really close to Aaliyah over the past year that you’ve been dating Shawn, and since you don’t have a younger sister, you take full advantage of getting to spend time with Aaliyah and play an older sister role in her life.

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The Only Exception (Part 6)

Summary: AU. Reader is given the task of running a popular love advice internet show when her coworker is fired. Her cynical attitude toward love makes her offer some harsh advice, and more than a few hearts are caught in the aftermath. Will hers be one of them?

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Word Count: 2,725

Warnings: language, angst, self-reflection, discomfort, melodrama, mentions of trauma, fire, rescue (of secondary character), sad thoughts. I don’t know. I’m no Shonda Rimes, but, tread lightly.

A/N under the cut.

Part - 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 7 - 8 - 9 - 10

Originally posted by theworldisworthagif

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Conditioned

(Tae runs into a woman from the past and finds himself willing to do whatever she asks.)

Warning: smut, male sub, female dom, masturbation, dirty talk, public sex, exhibitionism, voyeurism


Something about you seemed oddly familiar to Tae, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on it.  

When Jin asked Tae and Jimin to go out with him and his girlfriend, Youngsook, he had originally refused.  Jin and Youngsook were embarrassingly affectionate and Tae had no interest in being forced to watch them act all lovey-dovey in public.  However, when Jin said that Youngsook was bringing two of her female coworkers with her, he quickly agreed.

When all three men arrived at the bar, Youngsook was already there sitting in a large round booth with her friends.  As these things typically go, everyone was paired off with a partner of their own. Jin and Youngsook sat in the middle of the booth.  Tae sat next to a girl named Miri and Jimin sat next to you.  Tae was happy with his pairing – Miri seemed like the kind of girl anyone would like to date.  As the evening wore on, the contrast between you and Miri became increasingly evident. Miri was cute while you were sexy. Miri laughed while you smirked. Miri was open while you were mysterious. Miri was friendly while you seemed slightly dangerous.

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2

In the beginning of 1986, John Warnock Hinckley, who was serving time in a mental hospital for attempting to assassinate president Ronald Reagan and killing a person in the the progress, exchanged letters with Ted Bundy which was later leaked to the public. Excerpt’s of the letters read:

“… I hope I’m not being rude, but I just saw the article about you in the post, and I thought you could use a friendly word from someone who truly knows firsthand how tough it can be to stand up and tell the world, ‘Look, I’m really sorry, but I just went totally apeshit.’ The paper talks about how you didn’t want to plead insanity at your trial. (Hey, who does?) Like that means you weren’t nuts? (If you ask me, it proves it!) And how you were only doing it on appeal to escape the death penalty. (Duh.) Ted, I heard that same exact baloney, and I got so bummed that i tried to commit suicide three times. So what I really wanted to tell you is, don’t let the bastards get you down. You have as much right to appeal as anyone else, even if you killed and fucked a hundred dead girls. (But why am I telling you that? You went to law school!)”

Ted responded with:

“… I must ask that you refrain from profanity in any future letters. On that day two years ago when I accepted Jesus Christ as my personal Lord and Saviour, I took the trash out of my life. I can’t un-do my past- I am sorry; I did go non compos mantis- but today I am His Lamb. Look to Him, John. There are no loners in His flock.” 

Hinckley’s response:

“… You think you’re so smart, but who’s going to Yale? Jodie Foster.”

Bundy’s response, which included a cruel mention of one of his victim’s Lisa Levy, who Ted savagely bit multiple times during her attack nearly detaching her nipple from her breast in the progress, reads:

“I don’t know what they’re putting in your pill cup old boy, but one snide joke- for which I now hasten to beg your forgiveness- is no reason to upholster your .22 automatic and strafe a crowd of suits. Take it from a fellow who on more than one occasion bit off more nipple than he could chew. Let go of the anger.”

Hinckley’s third letter to Ted:

“You’re so right about needing to let go of some of our anger. When we lash out, we don’t just hurt other people, we also hurt ourselves. The therapists tell me this all the time, but it means a lot more coming from you.”

Finally, Ted’s last letter sent to Hinckley dated April 21st 1986:

“I received some most disheartening news this week- yet another ruling that I was competent at my trial and thus deserving of the death sentence. It’s always the same: The judge sees my grades, my Boy Scout merit badges, the pamphlet on rape prevention I authored on when I served on the Seattle Crime Prevention Advisory Committee, and finds that I was sane. That these aged, black-robed cretins can’t grasp that a sane man could not have performed such unspeakable acts just slays me…”

Source- Ted Bundy: A Visual Timeline by Rob Dielenberg

Lip Biting

Pairing: Y/N/Luke

Rating: NC-17

Request: No

Words: 2.000+

Summary: Luke loves biting his lip out of habit and that is, according to some, the biggest turn on to date. 

“Stop.”

“What?” He innocently questioned and looked up at you with his oceanic eyes that showed nothing else but what his tone was hinting at.

Of course he knew what he was doing.  

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Teen Romance Flick 101

Word Count: 14K+
Pairing: Peter Parker x Female Reader
Summary: After failing your Algebra test you have to ask Peter Parker– one of the best students– to be your tutor. As you get to know each other better, feelings begin to develop between the two of you.
Warnings: None.
A/N: This is one of the most common tropes and let me tell ya: I haven’t got one single regret. I kept characters nameless and generic because I don’t want to mess up the characterization of the Homecoming characters– but I’ll probably update this fic when it comes out to make it fit better in that universe. [F/N] stands for Full Name in case you don’t realize it. 


You stare at the giant red F on your test and you feel your stomach clenching, because you studied so much for this test and it still wasn’t enough. The bell rings and your classmates stand up, rushing out of the room to get out as soon as possible– but you stay behind, putting everything on your backpack slower than usual. Once everyone is out you walk to your teacher and take a deep breath before coughing to get her attention.

“Ah, [Y/N]. I was thinking you were going to talk to me after class.” She says with a warm smile and that makes you feel worse– because she’s an incredible teacher and person and she tried so hard with you, but no matter how much effort comes from both of you the fact that you are a big class with many students is a guarantee that she just won’t be able to give you all the attention you need to fully understand what you have to do.

You smile back but it’s only half-hearted– and she sighs and joins her hands on top of her desk.

“You can take a make-up test in two weeks– and that’s the best I can do to help you work out a solution for your grade.” You feel your soul returning to your body and let out a sigh of relief, because not everything is lost.

“Thank you so much. I really tried but Algebra is just so hard for me–” You say apologetically and she lifts up a hand, shaking her head.

“I know you did. You’re a good student, [Y/N]. I know that. Which is why I have a suggestion for you– to help you understand Algebra better.”

“Yes! Anything, really.” You respond eagerly, nodding.

“A tutor. A student who has no problem with the subject and can explain things to you one on one– someone you can ask any questions you possibly have how many times you want.”

“I can’t believe I hadn’t thought of that. Well… I guess it’s because I only know two people who are good at Algebra, and they have way too much on their plates for me to ask them to tutor me on top of that. So, do you know about anyone I can ask?” You ask with a hopeful smile, while wracking your brain to try and remember which students in other classes are good at Algebra– but you’ve never cared enough to find out so you come up empty. Your teacher grins and nods.

“Peter Parker.”

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Don’t Look Back (ACOTAR AU) - Part 17

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11, Part 12, Part 13, Part 14, Part 15, Part 16, Part 18Part 19

Nesta woke with a jolt. It took a bone piercing scream and a ground shaking bang for Nesta to rush out of bed on uneven legs, ripping the lamp out of the plug socket. She held it steady in front of her as she forced her legs to move through the darkness, muscle memory taking her over obstacles and through the landing to the source – Feyre’s room.

Fear was denounced as utterly and completely foreign as Nesta surged forward, adrenaline streaming through her veins.She slammed the door open without hesitation, ready to swing at the intruder, only to find her fiancé on his knees, groaning in what only seemed to be pain as he held his crotch, rocking back and forth.

Don’t you dare fucking touch me,” roared her little sister. Through the darkness, the moonlight from the window being the only help to sight, Feyre had backed herself into the corner of her room and Nesta was trying to put the pieces together but they struggled to fit. Until it dawned on her. 

Nesta’s eyes met Feyre’s. The sheer amount of unfiltered revulsion that Nesta read from them made her nearly choke on rage. The lamp in her hand felt solid, she ripped off the lamp shade for good measure, weighing it in her palm as a sickening silence in the room settled.

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Title: An experiment gone right

Pairing: Phan                                                                  

Rating/Warning: NC-17; messy, hilarious, hot sex plus feels in every sense of the word                                                            

Word Count: 10,500                                                      

Summary: At a party, Phil suggests an experiment to test if he and Dan really are 100 percent platonic. What, after all, would happen if they kissed? 

A/N: Sequel “The Morning After" here 

**

“Phil!” Dan dragged the word into two syllables, calling into the expanses of their flat. He was in the process of shimmying into a pair of trousers, his newly straightened fringe threatening dishevelment from the exertion. It wasn’t like Dan was all that large  –  despite his severe allergy to the gym  –  but it seemed that suspiciously purchased foreign jeans always came two sizes smaller than marketed.  Dan let out a triumphant “Ha!” as he finally fastened the top button and pulled the zip. Then, he slumped back onto his comforter and took a deep breath.

“PHIL!” he shouted again, on the exhale, “Have you seen my shirt?”

“Can you be more specific!” Phil’s voice echoed in return.

“The black one! With the things!” 

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