in other news my hand feels terrible


Originally posted by jengkook

Word count: 1820

Warnings: ANGST

Author’s note: I feel like I got a lot to say right now. Sorry about that in advance.

First of all this scenario is inspired by K.A.R.D.’s “Rumor”. At first I didn’t liked that song but I started liking it eventually. And damn this photoshoot gets me everytime. Also I don’t have the feeling I wrote a good Jimin story yet so I hope this will be poppin.

Second thing: I guess you noticed that I am repeating the members now. I mostly pick who I think would fit the role but there hasn’t really been any request regarding a certain group/member. Just to let you know that I am open for any suggestion! If not then I am willing to continue my own comeups ;)

For the third and last thing I just reached 400 followers!! ♥♥♥ For that I wanted to welcome every new companion and of course thank you all :D It is overwhelming to me how this blog grew out of nothing :) I will continue as long as you guys like me to ;) But now we will get going!

Check out my masterlist ;)

Most recent release: Second chances



Definitions: noun; A currently circulating story or report of uncertain or doubtful truth usually spread by word of mouth.

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I cannot express my joy when I discovered that this book was real…and that it was also free to purchase as an e-copy through amazon (it’s like under 100 pages so it’s a quick read). However, that joy was short lived when I actually began to read this book. Maybe it’s because of my lifestyle of memes, puns and general shit-post humour but I was expecting a book with copious amounts of chicken puns, knights wearing KFC buckets as helmets and well…a lot more steamy romance between our darling Harland Sanders and Madeline.

I feel as a long time Colonel Sanders and KFC fan I have a duty to make this story cringe worthy and yet oddly satisfying to those readers who are just like me. So grab a delicious, crispy chicken wing, ignore my spelling mistakes, general crappy grammar and enjoy. And to cover my own ass, all these characters belong to KFC and I mean no offence to anyone. Also I apologies because this got way out of hand and there’s a lot of dirty insinuations involved. Take a bible with you. Also I didn’t read this over because I’m terrified of having these thoughts in my head again. (GOODREADS REVIEW LINK:

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For this week’s #ChoicesCreates: Villains @holly-park

MC: Emma other characters are default names

Book: The Royal Romance, MC x Liam

I cried while writing this.

Trigger Warnings: death, weapons, murder

The former king sits across from me on a picnic blanket. He dabs his mouth with a handkerchief and clears his throat. Suspense hangs thick in the autumn air. He had called to meet me in private at the center of the hedge maze. Knowing I had been caught in my secret, I agreed. I know he knows much more than anyone. Rumors spread like the plague around here.

“Lady Emma, I understand you have been seeing Liam secretly. I can no longer keep a blind eye since he will be married next week. I hope you understand, my dear.” He informs me. I feel my heart sink, although I knew this would come. Heaven forbid that Liam be happy.

“I’m sorry but I can’t stand by and watch Liam be unhappy. You must understand as his father.” I pluck a grape from the bowl in front of me and pop it in my mouth. The sweet juice distracts me long enough to not notice Constantine reach behind his back. “What are you doing?”

“What I have to do. It’s for his own good, Lady Emma.” Before I can even blink the former king levels a pistol at my chest and fires.

The pain isn’t instant. I want this to be a nightmare. I remove my hands from my chest and they’re slick with blood. A metallic taste fills my mouth and tears pour freely from my eyes. Constantine becomes blurry and there’s a burning feeling spreading through my body. I fall to my side and try to scream, cry, anything. I clutch my stomach and try to hang onto consciousness. My eyelids can barely stay open as I watch my murderer loom over me, smiling.

……………..Liam’s POV…………………….

I usually don’t leave meetings but Drake had burst into the room, sweat coating his body and streaks of tears across his face. I left without a goodbye.

Now I can only pace around the waiting room at the ER. Drake, Hana, and the Beaumonts sit silently together. Everyone has been crying and although it’s been hours, no one has spoken. The only noise is the sound of the wall clock ticking and the occasional nurse coming to update us.

“Liam, come sit. You know she’ll make it.” Bertrand says quietly. I whip around, eyes bloodshot and throat groggy.

“You don’t know that. I couldn’t protect her. I couldn’t, even with choosing Madeleine. It’s my fault. It’s my fault that whoever hurt her got close enough to do so.” My voice cracks. I slump into a chair across from Drake and hold my head in my hands.

“I’m not your fault. It was the bastard who shot her who’s at fault.” Drake reassures me.

The doctor walks into the room. I stand immediately, tension twisting my stomach. “Everyone please remain seated. I have news.” I sit again, everyone’s eyes on the doctor. “I’m sorry for your loss. We tried but there was too much damage and blood loss. I do need to speak with King Liam privately for a moment. Please feel free to ask questions and grieve as I know this is terrible news.”

I forget to breath. I can’t breath. My heart seizes and shatters all at once and I can’t help the sobs that wrack through my body. The others are all hugging and I stand to follow the doctor into a private room. I force myself to focus on the doctor’s words.

“Before Lady Emma had gone into surgery, she had told me a secret. One she wanted you to know.” She hands me some medical documents and one catches my eye.

“How far along?” I manage to choke out.

“Twelve weeks. So about three months. There was a note in her back pocket that was addressed to you. I have it here.” The doctor slides a small envelope towards me. I ask if I can be alone when I read it and she leaves without word. With shaking hands, I open the letter.

Dearest Liam,

I’m only using this to practice what I’ll say to you so if you find this do not read! Thank you love. Anyways, I’m waiting until all the scandal surrounding me ends and I can safely be with you again to tell you. I want to so much and I know you know that something is different. I normally don’t eat tuna and pepperoni melts after all. I want to tell you that I’m pregnant so very much. I just had an ultrasound and found out the gender. I’m pleased to announce that it will be a darling little princess. I already have names I love. (Scarlet is my top choice btw). I know, I know I’m a mess. I can’t wait to raise her with you. She’s going to be perfect. I love you so much and I practically want to shout it from the rooftops how happy I am. Here’s to figuring out who sabotaged me and living happily ever after.

I love you,


I can only stare at the letter. Wet spots drop onto it. A girl. Our Scarlet. Both my love and my future child are dead because of some monster. My body is numb and I barely remember the walk from the room to outside by the others. Drake looks at me, at the pain and anger. I tuck the letter into my breast pocket near my heart. Slowly I collapse on the sidewalk, unafraid of who will see me screaming and pleading for Emma to come back. For answers. For Scarlet.

I Wish It Was You [Part 3]

You were meant to be with the name engraved on your wrist, Luke, but after you met Ashton, you didn’t want to be with your soulmate. 
Part 3 to my imagine I wrote for 5sos-writing-things

[Part 1] [Part 2]


I stood outside his front door, afraid to knock, afraid of what was going to happen. I knew how I felt about him and how he was the only person on my mind when I was with Luke, but I couldn’t admit that could I? Wasn’t it wrong? This whole thing was wrong. It seemed as if Ashton was my true soulmate and I was fighting that to be with Luke. It made no sense and it felt so wrong. I wanted to tell someone who actually linked up with their soulmate to try and be with someone else to see how I felt, but they’d say it was different. But they didn’t understand. I had tried to look up if there were any cases when one soulmate fell in love more quickly than the other, but nothing came up. Apparently they always both had an instant connection. I call bullshit on that. Ashton and I can’t be the only people, can we?

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I hate writing about the terrible things that happen to women, or I suppose it is more accurate to say I hate how I feel obligated to write about the terrible things that happen to women. I feel this obligation because terrible things have happened to me and because for too long I stayed silent. I was scared and ashamed and humiliated. My silence only amplified these feelings, the self-loathing, the isolation. If speaking about violence against women makes other women feel less alone, I am going to use my voice. And still. I hate writing about the terrible things that happen to women. I hate the inescapable feeling that writing about such issues accomplishes so very little. I hate the exhaustion I feel when I see yet another news story about a woman who has suffered at the hands of a man. I hate the guilt I feel because I am exhausted. Exhaustion is such a luxury.