in the middle of a daydream

The best parts of Grease (1978)
  • The fact that every single actor is clearly 20 years older than their character
  • The opening is animated for almost no reason
  • The one boy sitting in the girls’ section during “Summer Nights” just… daydreaming… staring off into space. I don’t think he even knows there’s a musical number going on
  • Patty calls herself a clod
  • If you pause the end of “Summer Nights” in the right place Sandy’s face is right in the middle of a pole
  • Sandy pukes when she sees blood??? what does she do during her period??
  • Danny’s face creepily showing up in the pool during “Hopelessly Devoted to You”
  • The people who work in the car shop just kinda staring awkwardly at the Greasers during “Greased Lightning” like they have no idea wtf they’re doing
  • The entirety of “Beauty School Dropout”
  • One of the boys spikes the punch and when questioned says he was washing his hands in it
  • THE FRIGGIN FBI WAS CALLED IN TO FIND OUT WHO WAS MOONING THE CAMERA LIKE HOW MUCH FREETIME DID THEY THINK THE FBI HAD IN THE 50s?
  • Rizzo trusts Marty to keep a secret like you’ve known this woman since Kindergarten did you seriously think she’d keep her mouth shut
  • siN WAGON
  • Danny sings about how Sandy rejected him as if she didn’t have valid reason
  • The car race that comes almost out of nowhere but at least it’s better than the musical which had literally no payoff for Greased Lightning at all
  • Sandy decides to become a Greaser kinda just because
  • Rizzo and Kenickie screwed around at the beginning of the school year but she didn’t realize she wasn’t pregnant until the last day like did she just assume baby bumps weren’t a thing?? Did she think gestation was nine years instead of nine months???? How the hell did this timeline work?? Did they have any sex ed in the 50s?
  • i got chILLS
  • THEY’RE MULTIPLYING
  • AND I’M LOOOOOOOSING CONTROL
  • They only start to wonder wtf they’re doing after graduation at the fair celebrating graduation
  • If you listen at the end of “We Go Together” you can hear the Chipmunks singing
  • THE FUCKING FLYING CAR WAS THAT EVER EXPLAINED
  • The fact that High School Musical was originally going to be a second-generation sequel to this
Signs and their bad habits

Aries: Is really loud sometimes yet too soft the next

Taurus: Biting fingernails

Gemini: Obsession with their phone

Cancer: Daydreams in the middle of a conversation

Leo: Can get too lazy when they are needed 

Virgo: Blurts out whatever is on their mind without thinking

Libra: Eyes dart around when someone is talking to them

Scorpio: Forgetting what they have just told someone

Sagittarius: Spontaneous mind-changing

Capricorn: Doesn’t practice what they preach

Aquarius: Singing, humming or whistling just a little too loudly when they have a song stuck in their head, even if they don’t notice it

Pisces: Swearing at untimely moments

thoughts during a conversation

aries: get to tHE FUKCIN POINT OBH MY GOD WHY DOES EVERYONE TAKE 10000 YEARS TO SAY SOMETHING THAT SHOULD ONLY TAKE 10 SECONDS

taurus: should I have leftovers tonight or order takeout… Thai and vietnamese are healthy but, pizza sounds pretty good too… maybe a bottle of wine…are you still talking to me… I’ll just pretend I need to go to the bathroom. ..

gemini: *talks continuously without giving the other person time to reply, basically says whatever pops into their head, doesn’t care if the other person is interested*

cancer: I give and I give, listen and listen, I am so nice and caring, when are they going to ask about me? I am literally the most kind, gentle, pure, underappreciated person in the universe *wipes tear* 

leo: *checks out self on any and every reflective surface* nice. Wait, did you just ask me a question? Finally, I get to talk about (myself) something interesting.

virgo: *sweats nervously and/or judges the other person ruthlessly* It’s either ‘wow, what an idiot,’ or ‘I hope I didn’t sound like an idiot’

libra: pretends to listen politely while resisting the urge to stick a pencil in their own eye to escape from the sheer bordom/stupidity, out loud: “wow, that’s so interesting” *eye twitch*

scorpio: fukc, this is boring why is everyone so boring what’s the point of small talk yes suzan it’s hot outside it is the middle of the fucking summer tfti now would you do the world a favor and go play in traffic

sagittarius: *laughs* “that’s hilarious” inside: I hope a horde of wildabeast tramples this fucking fool so that no one has to listen to them talk ever agin fuck *laughs some more*

capricorn: how does this apply to me? Wait, it doesn’t. What a waste of time.

aquarius: disagrees even though they don’t actually disagree and then argues just to prove how smart (they think) they are

pisces: literally having the most awesome narcissistic daydream ever, doesn’t even pretend to pay attention

[technically a shitpost but check mercury/third house]

2

reigens stage partners:

- a dove, father of six with a stable income;
- an old rat who likes soaps and eats raisin
- two espers

The types and what I think of them based on what I've seen from my friends(and probably a little insulting)

~as an INTJ

INTP
- quiet
- can make a bitch face that makes you cry
- probably thinks u stupid
- says that MBTI is shit
- fashionista
- has an ENFP friend(“ENFP no!”)
- savage
- that friend who has ultra weird ideas when drunk
- probably most adorable smile on earth
- smart
- most of the time just rising eyebrows and blinking

ENTJ
- bossy af
- prima ballerina
- she is beauty she is grace
- she will punch you in da face
- always in warm socks
- also an actress
- knows how to build things
- basically good at everything
- will shout at you if you do something wrong
- probably slept with almost all male friends

ENTP
- a n n o y i n g AF
- never shuts up
- meme queen
- so loud
- not funny jokes
- make up queen
- at least smart
- thinks she’s better than you(and maybe she is)
- if you take a sip from her mug u die
- has an ENFP slave
- kinda selfish
- another fashionista
- if she laughs the whole room laughs with her
- soooo much self confidence wow

INFP
- THAT SPECIAL SNOWFLAKE
- garbage lord
- writer buddy
- has ton of OC’s AND GAY SHIPS
- cannot into decisions
- junky food
- understands(really)
- don’t like loud people
- constant lala land
- savage without even noticing
- 4w5
- has 8 minute long video of herself eating french fries on her phone
- impressive self control
- cute laugh
- cute
- the best person to rant with

ENFP
- can’t stay in one place for a minute
- suddenly disappears in a middle of a party
- daydreaming a lot
- cheerful
- likes to drink A LOT
- too many friends
- nice for everyone ugh
- that laugh which sounds like a puppy riding a pink bicycle in a tuxedo
- can bring ENTP back to earth

ENFJ
- mom friend
- has too many friends HOW IS IT EVEN POSSIBLE
- gonna steal your friends without even noticing
- likes fancy drinks and kitschy things
- obsessed with doggos
- sudden outbursts of anger
- hypochondriac
- really anxious when driving
- doesn’t understand a concept of a personal space

ISTJ
- another bitch face
- can rise one eyebrow HOW U DO DIS?????
- doesn’t understand memes
- smart
- lack of self confidence
- secretly hates u
- wears comfy clothes but looks so good
- has a lot of savings but hardly ever uses them
- they knows better ok? don’t even try to tell them that they are wrong
- don’t particularly like pets
- perfect teeth
- so so so smart once again
- sometimes are rather calm but sometimes… don’t ask

ESTJ
- that kid who asks too many questions during your presentation
- constant bitch face
- hot
- stingy
- falls asleep during parties
- a rant person
- bossy
- hard working
- teachers like her

ESFJ
- will help you EVEN WHEN YOU HAVENT ASKED FOR HELP
- has a lot of friends
- drinks a lot
- hard-working
- daddy’s little princess/mama’s boy
- assertive
- smoking a lot
- tells everyone what to do

ISTP
- white Kanye West
- would kill u if u did something with his shoes
- likes weird electronic genres of music I can’t even name
- on 9gag all the time
- knows all memes
- League of Legends pro player
- can make funny faces
- looks like he was angry
- black humor(especially likes jokes about Jews)
- awkward silence gains a whole new meaning

ESFP
- the whitest person I know
- “what do u meat it was sexist?? it was funny!!!!”
- only wears yellow pants
- likes PE teacher probably a little too much
- can’t find a girlfriend
- will massage your feet if u don’t watch them properly
- has stupid ideas
- likes basically every person
- drinks wine at parties even though he says that true man should drink only vodka
- don’t know when someone is mean to him

ESTP
- loud
- hey lets go to the another city and get drunk!!! because why not
- class clown
- talks about her life too much like seriously
- and also about various secretions of her body
- probably gonna end up in jail
- smart and stupid at the same time
- lazy
- has problems with concentration
- talkative
- has problems with self-esteem which she covers acting out like a douche

Don’t take this personally lol
Maladaptive Daydreaming Dictionary

None of these terms, other than Maladaptive Daydreaming (Disorder) and Fantasy Prone Personality are official. Some of them, such as para and character, are synonymous and just a matter of preference. Therefore don’t feel as though you have to use any of these, this is just a reference for people who want to understand more about their condition and the terms used by the community.

actuallyMaDD: A tag used by maladaptive daydreamers to share their experiences. Coined by @bpdrotten .
see also: MaDD

character: A person who appears often in your daydreams. Can be fictional, original or real (such as a celebrity). Maladaptive daydreamers usually develop strong emotional attachments to their characters and characters can be very well developed with detailed personalities, relationships and backstories.
see also: para, para-

Compulsive Fantasy: a lesser used term for Maladaptive Daydreaming.
see also: Maladaptive Daydreaming

daydreamingart: a tag used by maladaptive daydreamers to share art or writing about the content of their daydreams. Coined by @queenofdissocation .
see also: maddart

daydreaming: Just as in regular English, daydreaming refers to imagining scenarios while losing track of the real world. It is important to note that when maladaptive daydreamers refer to daydreaming they are usually referring to doing it for hours at a time if uninterrupted, whereas other people might think of daydreaming as zoning out for five minutes when bored.

daydream crash: A) when a maladaptive daydreamer is forced to come to terms with the fact their daydreams are not real, leading to discomfort and sadness or B) when these daydreams no longer have the same effect that they used to and no longer feel as good. Coined by @maladaptive-daydreams .

daydream self/dream self (or any variation): many though not all maladaptive daydreamers have daydreams that involve themselves. They may imagine a version of themselves that is realistic or idealised or anywhere in between. This character is your dream self.
see also: parame

(daydream) trigger: something that leads to a craving or compulsion to daydream. The most common trigger is music, followed by other forms of media such as TV, video games and books.

daydream universe/daydreamverse/dreamverse: the imaginary world or worlds where daydreams are set.
see also: paracosm

fantasy/fantasising: see daydreaming.

Fantasy Prone Personality (FPP): a personality trait that means someone has a strong, lifelong involvement in fantasy and imagination. Signs of FPP include delusions and hallucinations (such as having intense spiritual/paranormal experiences, experiencing imagined sensations as real and confusing daydreams with real memories) as well as spending over half your waking time daydreaming. Maladaptive Daydreaming is more likely to affect those with Fantasy Prone Personality, however being a maladaptive daydreamer doesn’t necessarily mean you have FPP. Check the Wikipedia article for more information.

imaginary friend: an imaginary person that someone pretends to interact with in the real world, for the sake of companionship, entertainment or (for children) play. Not the same thing as a character or para. Maladaptive daydreamers interact with their characters/paras in their daydreams, whereas imaginary friends are imagined as existing in the real world. Maladaptive daydreamers can also have their characters as imaginary friends, however.
compare: character, para

inhabitant: a less common word for para. Short for daydream inhabitant. Coined by @avpdkaneki .
see also: character

linear universe: a daydream universe with only one world, which usually has one main storyline (i.e. one series of events which the maladaptive daydreamer daydreams about). Coined by @ni-ghtdreams .
compare: multiple universes, non-linear daydreams

MaDD/MADD/madd - acronym, short for Maladaptive Daydreaming Disorder.

maddart: see daydreamingart. Coined by @queenofdissocation .

Maladaptive Daydreaming (Disorder): a mental illness characterised by compulsive daydreaming that takes over a large part of someone’s life, to the extent that it interferes with or replaces things like work, school, real-life relationships, hobbies, getting up and going to sleep. When daydreaming, maladaptive daydreamers are content and also feel the emotions that their characters/paras are feeling. At the same time, daydreamers often engage in a repetitive activity (e.g. pacing or rocking back and forth). When not daydreaming, they experience regular cravings to resume their daydreams and often have trouble concentrating the world around them. It is debatable whether Maladaptive Daydreaming is a disorder, addiction or other type of mental illness. Currently, it is not officially psychologically recognised as a mental illness, therefore it is impossible to have it diagnosed by a therapist. The term was first coined by Eli Somer in 2002.
see also: MaDD, MDD, MD, maladaptive daydreamer, Fantasy Prone Personality

(maladaptive) daydreamer: a person with Maladaptive Daydreaming.

MDD: mistakenly used as an acronym for Maladaptive Daydreaming Disorder. In fact, MDD stands for Major Depressive Disorder and the community has asked that we stop using the tag. To avoid confusion, use the acronym MaDD.
see also: MD, MaDD

MD: an acronym short for Maladaptive Daydreaming, proposed as an alternative to MDD. However there is still some confusion in that it could stand for Major Depression. It’s best to use the acronym MaDD.
see also, MDD, MaDD

multiple universes: a daydream universe with more than one world or timeline which the maladaptive daydreamer fantasises about. Coined by @ni-ghtdreams .
compare: linear universe, non-linear daydreams

neuronarrative: the intense, divergent imaginings of fantasy prone people. Neuronarrative refers to extensive daydreams that are often accompanied by a repetitive activity, although these daydreams/narratives are not necessarily maladaptive and do not necessarily make it difficult for someone to live their life. In other words, the term has no negative connotations. All maladaptive daydreamers are neuronarrators, but not all neuronarrators are maladaptive daydreamers. Coined by @autisticworlds .
see also: neuronarrator, Fantasy Prone Personality, traveling
compare: Maladaptive Daydreaming

neuronarrator: a person who experiences neuronarrative.
compare: maladaptive daydreamer

non-linear daydreams: daydreams that are not all based in one world or a series of worlds - daydreams that are more random in nature and don’t have much in common in terms of timeline and setting. Coined by @ni-ghtdreams .
compare: linear universe, multiple universes

para: see character. Due to the level of emotional attachment and the amount of time spent interacting with them, some daydreamers feel that ‘characters’ isn’t a strong enough word to describe the people in their daydreams. Para is used as an alternative. It comes from the word paracosm and was coined by @schizotypaldaydreamer .

para-: a prefix that can presumably be used in front of anything to show that it is from your daydream universe, though it is almost always used for people. For example, a para/character who is your friend in your daydreams would be referred to as a ‘parafriend’.
see also: para, character, daydream universe, paracosm

paracosm: an imaginary world. Typically a paracosm is quite developed and may have its own imagined geography, laws, people, places, customs, history, language, etc. A famous example of a paracosm is Middle Earth. You do not have to be a maladaptive daydreamer to have a paracosm. Check the Wikipedia article for more information.

parame: see daydream self. Short for ‘parallel me’ and also coined by @schizotypaldaydreamer .
see also: para-

thisverse: a word for reality/the real world, in comparison to a daydream universe or paracosm. Coined by @schizotypaldaydreamer .

traveling: a term created to be synonymous with Maladaptive Daydreaming but without the negative connotations, for those who don’t find their extensive imagining to be a problem. It has since been replaced by neuronarrative, which is not synonymous with Maladaptive Daydreaming. Coined by @autisticworlds .

Feel free to add any other terms that you think are relevant, as long as they’re being used by more than one person (otherwise it’s just individual preference).

gospel around his fingers

Dex slams the door shut and presses against the wood, leaning his head back and sucking in a deep breath. He stares blindly up at the ceiling and–


“Nurse, I dare you to kiss the prettiest person in the room. Not counting me.” Lardo pretends to flip a lock of hair over her shoulder. “We all know I’d smoke you bitches,” she adds, grinning. Her teeth flash in the low lighting, and she knocks back the last of her drink as the gather group lets out joking boos.

They all “ooh” at Nursey as he raises a challenging eyebrow and smirks at Lardo. He makes a show of looking around the room, leering slightly at the other players of spin the bottle – Holster, Dex, Tango, Ollie, Wicks, and a few members of the volleyball and soccer teams. Bitty is grinning from his spot on the floor next to Lardo and Dex, watching as Nursey catches the eye of each person.


“Dex!” The memory is abruptly interrupted as Chowder’s voice comes from beyond the door. “Come on, man!” Dex tries to straighten up, but his legs refuse to work. He sinks down to the floor, back still pressed against the door, trying to suck in deep breaths of air. He drops his head between his knees, squeezing his eyes shut and–

Keep reading

Cinderella - Jughead Jones

Request: Hi honey ! <3 I love all your imagines, you are such a good writer ! I was wondering, if you could write Juggy imagine, something like Cinderella story, where the reader is shy and clumsy girl, who doesn’t go out much often because of her stepmother and her daughters, but one night, with Veronica and Betty help (two fairygodmathers haha) she go to a school party, where she met Jughead, but when she was leaving in hurry, she left something, and Juggy is determined to find her ?

This was like, the cutest prompt I’ve ever read and I just had to do it! Let me know if you want a part 2 :)

Jughead x Reader + Beronica because I’m trash

Warnings: - Swearing / abusive step-family :c - if you deal with these kind of issues, please tell someone. Anyone. You deserve so much more <3 

Words: - 4,849


Cinderella, that was pretty much you in a nutshell.

You walked along the side of the hallway, lurking. You managed to pass through to the high school exit, unnoticed by anyone. Not that you were ever noticed. You could turn into a flying monkey and still no attention would be paid to you.

Not that you cared. You were a selfless girl, kind and virtuous. To everyone else you were the shy girl without friends, too perfect and studious to need anyone. Inside, you were longing for someone to talk too, because nothing and nobody in Riverdale is ever perfect. There’s always a layer of cracked stone hidden beneath the perfectly painted exterior.

The reason you didn’t have many friends was because you never really got out much, besides school. You weren’t used to much social interaction and all your spare time was spent in the library, doing your homework. You couldn’t do it at home, because you had to take care of your stepmother who would often come home high or drunk. Your stepsisters would blame you, and you would have to clean up all of the mess and damage that they left behind or your step-mother would beat you.

That was always another reason why you never let anyone know. You were too selfless and paranoid to make a fuss, you didn’t want people worrying over you or thinking that you were just seeking their attention. You had the bruises and the scars to prove your claims, but in your mind speaking out would just make everything worse.

Still, through all that you had bared, you wore a smile on your face and tried to stay positive. It was all for your Mother’s sake. She had died in a car accident when you were 9 and it had left you traumatised. Sadly you didn’t have much time to recover as your Father followed just 4 years later thanks to cancer. Your Mum always used to tell you to look on the bright side of life, to be kind and show love. All you wanted was to make her proud.


As you walked out into the parking lot to fetch your bike, you saw a group of people crowded around the racks engaged in conversation. You walked up to them gingerly, your body spiked with nerves. This was, as dubbed by Cheryl Blossom, the Sad Breakfast Club. You’d always admired them from afar. 

Archie Andrews was talented, in both music and sports. Betty Cooper was the typical girl next door, good grades and a strong mind. Kevin Keller was too fabulous for words, and you adored his confidence. Veronica Lodge was a powerful feminist, who stood up for herself, as well as standing up for her friends and fellow females. Then, there was Jughead Jones. You’d partnered up with him once in English class. He had a way with words, and you couldn’t help but ask him about his novel. His eyes had lit up with passion, a passion that didn’t die for the whole time the two of you conversed. His friends had been surprised at how talkative he was to you, how excited he was that you seemed to understand and respect his novel.

It felt great to finally have someone to talk to, about normal things. However, after that encounter you hadn’t really spoken to him, although he would sometimes acknowledge you with a small smile and a nod when you passed him in the hallway. You didn’t have the courage to interact with him more than you already did. Besides, you saw the look in his eyes. It was indescribable. The same look that clouded over your eyes daily, a look that nobody except those who possessed it would be able to see. The look of helplessness, that behind whatever perfect or basic exterior you had built up, was layered with secrets and scandal. You didn’t want to present yourself as another burden in his life when, without even talking to him properly, you could just tell he wasn’t going through the best of times.

You could hear that they were talking about Cheryl Blossom’s upcoming party. The party of the century. A masked party. Considering your status, you hadn’t received an invite so you weren’t going. The idea of taking on a whole new identity, the ability to let yourself loose without having to worry about how people saw you. It was thrilling, and sent anticipation and excitement coursing through your veins. How you would love to confidently dance at a party, socialise, do things that (Y/N) (Y/L/N) just wouldn’t do… couldn’t do. For once, after all the things you gave to the world, maybe taking something in return and having your fifteen minutes of fame was all you needed. 

Your daydreaming meant that you hadn’t been paying precise attention to where you were walking, and found yourself stumbling over a collection of bikes which had been carelessly placed in the middle of the pavement as there was no more space on the bike racks. Your felt your cheeks tint red with embarrassment as you collected the spilled contents of your bag, which you had forgotten to close. It was cliche and awkward, and what made it worse was that the SBC was right in front of you watching. They got down to help you pick stuff up and you muttered your thanks to each of them, keeping your head down. You felt someone touch your arm, and naturally you immediately leapt onto your feet away from the contact, jerking the touch away from you. Your eyes were wide and your heart was thumping. You were so skittish thanks to past trauma, and you felt your cheeks get redder as you realised it had only been a reassuring gesture from Jughead.

He was staring at you, bewildered, as he slowly walked closer and gave you your pencil case, one of the items that had fallen from your bag.

“Are you okay? -” He paused, as if trying to remember your name, not that you’d ever told him. He probably expected you to just give it to him there and then but you wanted to escape the awkward confrontation as quickly as possible. You weren’t sure why because to be honest, you would always prefer to be anywhere in the world that wasn’t home. However, if you got home late, you would just be making it worse for yourself.

“Yes, thank you. All of you,” You put on that charming smile of yours, before pulling out your vintage bike, which you had salvaged from a local junkyard. You’d manage to acquire mint green spray paint and the materials to make a small woven basket for the front, and the result wasn’t half bad. It wasn’t exactly the flashy modern bikes that lit up when they move, but you wouldn’t want it any other way. Finding the time to work for yourself was rewarding in its own sense.

You knew eyes were on you, something that you weren’t exactly used to, so you tried to get out of sight, as you rode down the street, as quickly as possible. You didn’t realise the curious spark mixed in with the helplessness in Jughead’s eyes, and you didn’t realise the suspicious glances that were exchanged between Betty and Veronica.


Home sweet home.

Home is where you feel safe, most wanted and most loved.

Your home was anything but sweet, and you felt like you were living in fear, that the hate your ‘family’ had for you was all you had going for your life.

You walked your bike up to the shed at the side of your house. It was infested with spiders and mice, and if your step-mother was in a particularly awful mood, the thickly coated, dusty floors would be your bed for the night. Lucifer, your step mother’s cat was perched on the door step. His name seemed appropriate considering his demonic demeanour and frequent attempts to claw your limbs out. His gaze followed you as you entered the house. 

Empty or smashed beer bottles clogged up the hallway, and you practically went en pointe to try and avoid the thick shards of glass that coated your path. You couldn’t hear the blaring noise of the TV, or the throwing of items coming from upstairs. This meant, it was one of those days where your stepmom went out the night before, drove to the next town over, got drunk and high and then proceeded to have a one night stand with some poor man. She wouldn’t be home until very late the following evening, and you couldn’t help but breathe out a soft sight of relief.


You had just gotten out of the shower, preparing to start on clearing up the glass when you heard the front door slam, followed by two whingey voices. Your step-sisters, Drew and Anna. Whereas your stepmom had physical abuse covered, your step-sisters preferred to hurt you verbally, to mock you and tease you, belittle you and reduce you to nothing but their own personal slave.

“(Y/N)!” You heard a screech from below your feet and you cringed inwardly, as you pulled on your comfort clothes. You knew you should have cleaned up first, but you just felt so stressed and uncomfortable from your fall earlier. Not that your own concerns were the priority in this household.

“(Y/N)!” Two simultaneous yells this time, sounding frustrated. The longer it took, the worse it would get, the more material they had to hurt you with. You hurriedly raced downstairs to their aid.

“Drew, Anna, how was your day?” You put on the nicest smile and sweetest voice you could muster. Anyone else would have snapped back at these sisters by this point, but you were an empathetic person and knew that deep down, these girls were suffering from their broken family just as much as you were. They just coped with it differently.

“Took you long enough, anyways, Cheryl invited us to her party and we need you to do our makeup like the… good sister that you are,” Anna gave a sickly sweet smirk. Your stepsisters had been sucking up to Cheryl for weeks in order to be invited to this party, and knew that you wouldn’t be going.

“She’s picking us up in her limo in about 2 hours, so hurry up. And don’t make further plans, you’re going to have to clean everything up before Mum gets home afterwards or she’ll kill you,” Drew snickered and Anna scoffed.

“Please Drew, we’re not that lucky.” The two sisters pushed past you, before walking up the stairs to their room. You felt your sensitivity levels topple over slightly, that remark was just a bit too far.


Somehow, you managed to slightly bond with your sisters over the makeup process. You tried things out on Drew, Anna would occasionally compliment how nice she looked and ask if you could do the same thing when it came to her. You almost felt like normal sisters. Until you were done. It could never last long could it? You just weren’t good enough.

Drew and Anna were wearing flamboyant dresses, with masks to matched. Their heels were higher than you thought was actually possible. As the two made their own final preparations, you were busy doing your own makeup and had laid out a pastel pink dress to wear. The dress was your mother’s, and you had managed to find it at the back of your closet from when you used to try and dress up in her clothes when you were younger. You wanted to go to this party. Why not? After all, you did everything for everyone else. For the first time, you deserved a little something back. Besides, you were sure Anna and Drew wouldn’t care, after all you had gotten on so well when you were doing their makeup. Well, better than usual at least. That had to mean something.

Cheryl wanted the party to be huge, so you were sure she wouldn’t mind if you tagged along with your sisters. It wasn’t as if you actually had any issues or rivalry with Cheryl, you just didn’t talk to her. You wouldn’t be surprised if your sisters had actually told people that they didn’t have any more siblings, and that you were just a loner only child.

You grabbed your ragged clutch, and made your way downstairs, after changing into the dress. You looked okay, but your mind was on the mask. You decided you were going to pick one up at the local costume shop on the way there, as you would travel on your bike rather than opting for the awkward journey in Cheryl’s limousine. 

You raced outside before Anna suddenly rushed up to you, shoving her iPhone into your hands.

“Ah! (Y/N) perfect, take a pic of me and Drew!” She exclaimed, before rushing back to Drew and posing, attempting to stick her chest out. You awkwardly tilted the camera to fit the both of them in it, before Anna raced back and snatched it off of you, flicking through the pictures you took. “Ugh this one’s blurry,” She muttered, as she paced back and forth.

“What are you wearing?” Drew bitterly scoffed as she circled you mockingly, like you were surrounded in shark infested waters. You suddenly felt intimidated as Anna’s attention snapped to you and she began to laugh and jeer at you.

“Goodness (Y/N), is that ugly piece of shit the best you could do?” She giggled uncontrollably and you felt tears crawl into your eyes.

“It was my mother’s” You whispered, not looking either of them in the eye.

“You keep dead people’s clothes? That’s weird, creepy, just like that Jughead kid,” Drew sighed, pulling on a loose lock of your hair. You jumped back from her and she rolled her eyes and scoffed at you.

“Wait… don’t tell me… that you thought you were coming to the party?” Anna stopped pacing, getting up close in your face and raising an eyebrow. You wanted the ground to swallow you whole right now.

“Well… I thought… m-maybe you would let me come with you? I just thought it was my turn to d-do something… for myself,” You stumbled clumsily, eyes trained to the ground. An awkward pause of silence skipped over you, before your stepsisters bursted into scathing hysterics. Pointing at you, taunting you. The tears freely flowed now. How could you be so stupid and naive to think somebody actually cared about you.

“You thought wrong you little bitch,” Anna’s voice sent chills down your spine as her tone turned menacing. She walked up to you, grabbed the frills of your dress and ripped them in two. You let out a strangled cry as Anna stepped back to admire her handy work. You fell to the ground, picking up the pieces that had come off of the dress and holding them close to your heart. You felt like Anna and Drew were destroying your whole world, taking it down brick by brick. When they learnt a weakness or a potential threat, they would eliminate it immediately.

You heard the clanging of metal, and turned your head to the left to see your bike which was being vandalised by Drew, who was madly hitting it with a large metal hammer. You crawled towards her, screaming at her to stop but Drew wouldn’t comply, not until the bike was damaged beyond repair.

One of the only things you’d ever been proud of, your spare time flushed down the drain in a matter of seconds. You stood up and bravely faced your two stepsisters in the eye, who were observing the surrounding chaos with satisfied looks on their faces. A black limo pulled up on your driveway, and the two walked off, only stopping when they heard you yell.

“Why me? Please! What did I ever do to you? All I’ve ever done is be nice to you, why do you hate me?!” Your voice was raw from the crying. The stepsisters looked back at each other, trying to come up with a response.

“Because you ruined our lives,” Anna spat at you, before grabbing Drew’s hand and pulling her away, leaving you to stand there and sob. Your knees collapsed beneath you with grief.


You sat in your bedroom, trying to collect yourself. Your mothers dress was placed under your sewing machine which you would have to fix later. You had managed to clean up the rest of the house which had helped in taking your mind off of the party momentarily. However, you now sat on the edge of your bed, reflecting on what could have been.

Maybe you should have reached out to someone, anyone who would listen. Like Jughead…

You just wished you had your own fairy godmother right now.

Suddenly, you heard a knock at your front door. This was strange, as nobody ever came to this house except the milkman and the postman. Your sisters were too embarrassed to share their address or invite anyone round, as you would likely be there. If it was your stepmom, she wouldn’t knock. She would barge in the door, yelling and shouting. 

Cautiously, you opened the front door, peeking out into the night. You were surprised to see two girls, two girls you recognised. Veronica Lodge and Betty  Cooper, who were both wearing matching black and white dresses, with perfect makeup and sympathetic smiles on their gorgeous faces. 

“We saw the bike, saw your sisters and put two and two together,” Veronica sighed. You bit your lip, not sure what to say, but Veronica had practically invited herself in and enveloped you in a hug, followed by Betty. 

“You don’t have to tell us anything, but we won’t sit here and let them get away with ruining your night,” Betty smiled, brandishing a box. Inside the box was a makeup bag, a pair of white embellished platform shoes, a black and white halter neck dress with black lace on the top, and the best parts, the accessories. A split down the middle, black and white mask. The white side was embezzled in sequins and feathers, whereas the black side was decorated with white swirls and fake flowers. Intricate floral patterns danced around the edges of both sides of the mask. On top of this all was the most beautiful necklace you had ever seen. A silver chain attached to what looked like a jewel encrusted ring, lined with a gold rim. More tears appeared in your eyes.

“Sorry if none of it’s really you, it’s all we had,” Veronica laughed nervously but you jumped on the two girls with another hug, except tighter.

“You didn’t have to do this, it’s all so beautiful….” You felt yourself choke on your words. 

“Honestly it’s-” Veronica began,

“Nothing” Betty finished, linking her arm with Veronica affectionately as they giggled at one another. 

“Don’t let these people ruin your fun, you gotta go out there and get your man!” Veronica beamed, resting her head on Betty’s shoulder as Betty nodded encouragingly. 

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion and Betty and Veronica simultaneously rolled their eyes with a ‘tut tut’, exchanging glances.

“Jughead silly!” Betty spelt it out for you and you felt your face turn red all over again. “Yes! I knew it!” Betty exclaimed excitedly.

“I ship it!” Veronica and Betty squealed in a sing-song voice. You buried your face in your hands, but tried to laugh it off.

“I don’t even know if I can pull this stuff off guys. Honestly, it’s all so beautiful but it would probably look nicer on yo-” You began but the girls help up a finger in unison.

“Don’t even start with that crap. You are such a pretty, strong woman! You’ve been through all of this by yourself and you never even had to! You are going to own this party whether Cheryl Blossom gives a fuck or not,” Veronica retorted, and you grinned excitedly. 

The girls helped you redo your makeup, as you confided with them about your situation. It felt so good to get everything off your chest. They were so much more relatable than you expected and you honestly hoped that this wouldn’t be a one-off friendship. 

You were ready and dressed, hair done in a lace braid, necklace secured, feet comfy. All you needed now was to put your mask on. As you slipped it over your head, you felt a surge of confidence and power. This was finally your night, and you were going to earn it. 

“Look at what we’ve created Ronnie,” Betty danced around your room with Veronica excitedly. Your sisters had left to help set up the party earlier, so it’s not like you guys were even late yet, and the others were very excited. Suddenly, you felt the nerves rush back. What if they couldn’t get you in? If Anna and Drew knew you were there they would personally skin you alive. Veronica noticed you tense and she crouched beside you, resting her chin on your shoulder and sighing.

“In this mirror, I see a beautiful, young, independent woman who is currently discovering herself. You deserve this night (Y/N), it’s not enough just to dream these kind of things, you gotta finally step out of your comfort zone and live it up!” She shook you playfully and you laughed. This was your chance.


The ride had been fun, Ronnie had her own limo which she had managed to secure for the evening and you had picked up Kevin Keller on the way there, who played a huge part in settling your nerves with his gay humour. 

Veronica, being an influential person had also managed to get you into the party and you hadn’t even seen Anna and Drew so far.

Turns out that being anti-social for so long wasn’t a good trait to have in massive social events like parties where everyone knew each other and had plans for the evening. You felt out of place, and everything you dreamt of had faded. It was intimidating, all these masks practically trying to outshine each other. You lost your new friends in the sea of people and hadn’t found them since. You had managed to gain a lot of attention during the night though, which you were not used to. 

You currently stood pressed against the wall, drinking the non-spiked punch and avoiding the dance floor. Suddenly, you made eye contact with someone else pressed agains the wall. Probably someone that you would recognise in a festival crowd. No matter where you were you could pick him out. His crystal blue eyes and distinctive grey beanie which would not go off for any event. His raven haired curly locks which stood up at the back of his neck.

Your night (Y/N)

Feeling a surge of confidence, you kicked off of the wall and stood by him instead.

“Do I know you?” He asked almost instantly. Obviously everyone knew it was him from the beanie, and nobody would voluntarily come stand by him, it just wasn’t a thing people did.

“Not yet,” You let out a small chuckle, surprised at yourself. Your voice was deeper, perhaps even seductive. You sounded powerful but your stomach was whirling with butterflies as the boy gave a moment of silence to take you in.

“How mysterious,” He smirked back. Jughead’s mask covered a very thin surface area around his eyes, and was simply pitch black and made out of card.  He clearly tried very hard. “Student at Riverdale?”

“Are we playing a guessing game now?” 

“I guess,” You couldn’t really tell from the flashing strobe lights and intense atmosphere but you swore you could have saw him blushing.

“Yes, I am a student at Riverdale,” your heart thumped. There were obviously tons of students at Riverdale but you couldn’t help but get this overwhelming feeling that he knew it was you. Maybe Jughead felt the same way? You bit your lip, thinking about how you just wanted to be at a comfortable home with this boy right now. Like his house, because your house was simply hell.

This boy practically was your home, he made you feel safe and wanted. Although he didn’t even know this was you right now, you were just there for entertainment as he had nobody to speak to. If he knew who you really were, he would have left a long time ago. 

No (Y/N), your night! Have some faith in yourself!

“Have we talked before?” Jughead asked again, you paused deciding how you wanted to word this so that it was truthful but not too obvious.

“I expect so,” You played it off and you heard him grunt, causing you to let out another hearty chuckle.

God he loved that chuckle. It reminded him of (Y/N)

Hmm.. (Y/N)

Jughead looked up at the mysterious, elegant beauty behind the mask. He thought of (Y/N) and how suddenly an idea popped into his head. But she was so shy… it was just his biased mind because he had a cr- no, it was worth the ask.

Suddenly a slow song played over the speaker, and people paired off onto the dance floor. The two of you stayed against the wall until you were the only two left. You’d love to dance, but there wasn’t much space left and you wanted to dance freely with flowing motions. Jughead practically read your mind, as he bravely took your hand and lead you out onto a balcony, before placing his hands on your waist as you wrapped yours around the back of his neck, leaning into him and taking in his gentle scent. 

You slowly moved side to side, resting against him, only properly moving when he would twirl you around gracefully. 

“Do we have classes together?” Jughead murmured. You nodded your head dazily and he chuckled at your sudden tired mood, spinning you again. He let out a hmm in mock thought, causing you to weakly giggle. “Have we been project partners before?” His voice got quieter and more gentle. You paused, the swaying slowing. “Yes” you whispered against his jacket, clutching it tightly in your hands.

From inside, you could hear the song coming to an end but undisturbed, the two of you continued to dance. A comfortable silence swept over you as he twirled you one last time before stopping, his mouth coming closer to your ear and you felt Jughead’s hot breath on your neck. 

“Do you like English class?” He whispered gently into your ear and you felt yourself tense. Suddenly the loud chiming of a clock from above you caused you to break apart with a jump. He didn’t make it obvious that he knew, but it was the skittishness that made it clear who his mystery girl was. Your heavy breathing, turned into breathy laughing with Jughead before suddenly your whole body went rigid and your face paled.

“What’s the time?” You whispered, your face struck with horror. 

“Midnight, that’s what the chimes are for,” Jughead moved closer, his hand reached up to cup your cheek but you stumbled back, your hand flying to clasp over your mouth. You were trying to hold back sobs of fright.

Your stepmom would be home. She would kill you if you weren’t there and you didn’t exactly mean figuratively. She would beat you until you’re bloody, skin you alive and then eat your flesh in front of your own rotting carcass. 

You muttered hurried apologies before racing towards the balcony door. You had to sneak back home somehow, you had to get away. This should have never have happened. People like you don’t deserve these special nights, these special people. Your heart was thumping out of your chest as the adrenalin pumped through your veins

You let out a yelp of pain as you realised your necklace was stuck in your hair. You ripped it out, not caring that it fell to the floor. You didn’t even bother to pick it up, kicking off you heels and chucking them at Veronica as you ran away from the dance floor, from the party, from the mansion… from Jughead.


“Got it,” Drew smirked nastily, as she hit the stop button on the recording of you. She’d filmed the last minute or so of your dance with Jughead and your sudden departure.

“Mom would totally believe she stole all of that crap, including the necklace. I mean she must have. There’s no way that street urchin can afford that shit,” Anna sighed, “Did she honestly think that someone like her would fit in here? We’ll show her,” She clicked her tongue in satisfaction, before dragging her sister with her out the door.

Little did they know that they weren’t the only ones snooping on conversations. 

“Not if I have anything to say about it,” Jughead clasped the necklace in his right hand, Veronica and Betty standing angrily behind him. 


It’s 2am I’m so dead. This was kind of rushed, I’m so sorry <3

Let me know if you want part 2!
ALSSSOOO: thank you to @mrs-jughead-jones for being there whilst I wrote this and getting annoyed at Apple autocorrect with me.

@satanwithstardust helped approve the ideeaaa because she’s bae. 

Riverdale TAG LIST: @theselfishllama

Sound the Alarms

Sound the Alarms: 01 02 03 04 05
Ship: Jungkook | Reader ~ Jungkook | Seulgi
Description: You were in love with Jeon Jungkook since you were 14, but made the mistake of introducing him to your best friend at 16. Now you’ve slept with him at 19, and it appears that fate isn’t done screwing you over when it comes to your two best friends.
Warning: Hella Angst, Blowjob, Intercourse, Oral, Fingering, Cheating, Dirty Talk, Slight Cumplay?
Word Count: 5,041

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Daydreaming

Summary: Bucky Barnes is a superstar actor in Hollywood, and the reader works as a photographer for an upscale fashion and pop culture magazine. One day, she is assigned to take photographs of Bucky to promote his upcoming movie, but her schoolgirl crush on Mr. Barnes proves to be a problem.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Words: 3,547

Warnings: Smut (a little bit of D/S undertones, unprotected sex. Don’t get pregnant or catch STI’s,kids). Also some fluff, it’s not 100% smut.

A/N: This is my submission for Kait’s (@bionic-buckyb) 5k AU challenge! My prompt was “Model/Photographer”. Hope you enjoy! (also if anyone can guess what reference I’m making with the fake movie title I put in this fic, you get brownie points!)

Originally posted by little--batman



Another day, another photoshoot in the studio with some rude celebrity who thinks they’re better than you.

You sigh, shuffling over to the strobe to make sure it’s synced properly to your camera. With a quick press of your shutter button, the light goes off, and you’re satisfied that everything is set up perfectly for today’s shoot. Your contentment doesn’t last long, though; the thought of having to deal with another snobby subject clouds your brain. Sure, the concept of meeting celebrities every day at your job seemed cool, but once you got used to it, you realized that they’re all just regular people. There was hardly anything special about anyone you met, aside from the few who were very nice and complimented how good you made them look with your camera.

“Oh, wonderful, you’re all set up!” Michael, the fashion consultant and your bosses’ assistant, bursts through the studio doors. “James will be here in a second. I want you to make him look SO sexy in these photos, got it, Y/N? Carol needs to be proud of our work when she’s back from vacation.”

You shake your head and give him the slightest pathetic smile you can. “I can’t make someone sexy if they already have an ugly face, Michael. Now which James are we talking about?”

“James Barnes?” Michael looks shocked, his eyes widening as he says the name. “For his new movie, ‘Farewell, Atlantis’?”

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HOW TO STAY AWAKE IN CLASS
  1. Shower before class. Have a 9 a.m. class? Hop out of bed in the morning and head straight for the shower. It’ll wake you right up! Plus, your classmates will probably thank you.
  2. Bring a water bottle, and drink plenty of H2O. Staying hydrated is a key factor in staying awake. Try putting ice in your water bottle; the     cold water will keep you lively and alert.
  3. Go to the bathroom. Walk off the sleepiness by taking a trip to the bathroom. The process of walking will get the blood circulating again. And don’t forget to take a stretch break while you’re in the hallway.
  4. Bring eye drops. It’s hard to stay wide-eyed and awake when your eyes are dry and irritated from the lack of sleep. When they’re feeling dry, splash a couple drops in them. You’ll feel more refreshed and your eyes will be grateful.
  5. Sit in the front row, or at least in the middle! The closer you are to the professor, the less likely you are to fall asleep due to volume. Not to mention the fear of getting caught dozing off will keep you wide awake!
  6. Take note. If you are daydreaming, eventually that will turn into real dreaming when you fall asleep. It might be hard when you are so tired, but taking notes during class can help keep you awake. It will keep you focused on the class material and less focused on how tired you are.
  7. Pressure points: Two of the best, and conveniently subtle, pressure points to keep you up are your earlobes and wrists.
        For your ear, while it may look like you’re just learning your cheek on your wrist, rub the area right above your lobe (or where a traditional ear piercing would be) between your thumb and index finger. Not only is it a fine motor movement to keep you active, but also invites blood to rush up towards your ear, and therefore, to your head.
        Or putting the inside of your wrists against something cold: the metal bar of your desk, the desktop, your laptop. The pressure point here will keep you awake!
  8. Small, repetitive movements: Foot tapping and chewing gum, just like rubbing the pressure point in your ear, “wakes up” those muscles, returning blood to those areas and reinvigorating your blood circulation.
  9. Hold your breath for a few moments. Every time you feel like you are falling asleep, hold your breath to a count of 100. You will become restless and more wakeful while you hold your breath. When you start breathing again, you’ll feel relieved and awake.
  10. Tap your feet and drum your fingers. Even these slight movements will help get your circulation moving and keep you  from falling asleep.
  11. Avoid consuming too much sugar. Sugar will give you a short     energy boost followed by a prolonged descent into sleepiness. Try a     healthy energy boosting snack instead, for example, carrots. Carrots are a  good energy booster, they’re healthy and won’t drain you of energy.
  12. Snap a hair tie. Okay, this is a weird method but I swear it works for me. Seeing as I always have a hair tie on my wrist, anytime I feel myself falling asleep, I just snap the hair tie against my wrist to keep me awake. It doesn’t really hurt, but it is enough to keep you alert. Next time you feel like snoozing, just try it to see if it works for you.

“So what are you?”

The question which plagued my childhood in suburban Kansas; the ponderance of which led me towards years of agonizing identity searching; the answer to which I still hesitate to deliver.

“So what are you?”

It is an innocent question; one I know I am not alone in hearing the echoes of. But what do I say? “I’m mixed” is the short answer, but it always leads to the question of “With what” so do I say “My mom is white and my dad is brown” but brown isn’t usually specific enough so do I say “my mom is white and my dad’s Pakistani” but that doesn’t flow right because white is a race and Pakistani is a nationality so do I say “my mom’s American and my dad’s Pakistani” but that isn’t true because my dad was born in Canada and he’s lived here his whole life and American sure as hell doesn’t mean white I mean my dad IS American so do I say “My mom’s a white American and my Dad’s Pakistani American” but that just sounds like I’m trying too hard so that’s out of the question and so do I just drop it and leave it at “none of your business” but that’s rude and it’s really such a simple question so what in the hell do I freaking say?

“So what are you?”

It’s a good question, really… why don’t you tell me? I am the alienation that I feel when my mom’s family talks about how dangerous those Muslim immigrants are over dinner and I am the strange sinking feeling in my stomach which occurs when my cousins tell me that whatever I’ve just done is haraam. I am the frustration which clouds me when people around me doubt that I am what the hell I say I am. I am the product of the millisecond long stares of confusion people give me when I tell them the pale as china blonde lady I’m with is my mother and the looks of disgust I get when I, the young, doll eyed light skinned girl, go out to dinner late at night with a big burly middle aged brown man, aka my father. I am the three and a half years it took me to decide what to call the pigmentation of my skin.

I am the sadness which clouds me when one of my Aunties asserts how lucky I am to be so fair skinned. I am the anger I feel each and every time I think about the people who called my full and plump Desi lips fat as a kid and now use copious amounts of lip liner to accentuate their tiny mouths on Snapchat. I am the hours of hoping and praying during and after shootings that it wasn’t a Muslim. I am the incredible lengths I go to, the precise and complex knowledge I feel I must have of my roots in order to truly claim my heritage. I am neither and I am both and I hate it.

“So what are you?”

I can’t stand here and tell you that it is all bad. That would be I lie, for I am also the cool, smooth feeling of the bronze crucifix which sits on one side of my bedroom wall and the sentiment of the words “Allah most merciful” written in beautiful Arabic script on the other. I am my large French hazel eyes and my thick and wavy South Asian hair, my favorite of my features.

I am the pride I feel as I trace my thumb over the intricate embroidery on one of my anarkalis and the anticipation I feel for Christmas as I help line my grandmother’s fireplace with garland. I am the rhythmic clanking of my bangles as I dance to bhangra music at a cousin’s wedding and the clicking of tongues by a sizzling grill as my grandpa flips our burgers during a Sunday night barbeque. I am the flavorful and savory taste of pulao my father makes and the creamy texture of mashed potatoes on Thanksgiving. I am the Maybelline mascara I coat my eyelashes with and the kajal I used to line the edges of my eyes. I am the flavorant meeting of two cultures melting in an incredible country in which such a thing is even possible.

“So what are you?”

God, but what am I thinking? I’m Jackie. I am the impending messiness that is my bedroom. I am my inability to fall the hell asleep before eleven o’clock at night. I am my love for all things fashion and glamour. I am my obnoxiously large collection of makeup. I am my hideous shedding of tears each and every time Spock dies in the Wrath of Khan.

I am my intense love for horror movies and my struggle to move in the dark for two days after watching them. I am my passion for music and Michael J. Fox and Kanye West and my unrequited love for Zayn Malik. I am my collection of records and of 32 scarves which I never wear, my brown riding boots, my belting of Christmas carols in the middle of July, my irrational hatred of algebra, my inability to sleep without my phone being on its charger, the Toll House cookie dough I eat straight from the bag and the four Beatles posters I have hanging in my room.

I am the scent of Aussie conditioner and my clumsy, spacy nature; my obsession with the Kennedys, my adamant love for Diet Dr Pepper, losing myself in my daydreams, my extreme extroversion and procrastination of literally everything, my weakness for Reese’s peanut butter cups, my A to Z knowledge about Mick Jagger, my ever changing mind. I am my dreams and I am my fears and and I am my tenacity and I am my mistakes and my courage and my insecurities and my abilities and my hope … I am so much and yet I am so little. I am me. I am unapologetically and beautifully me.

“So what are you?”

I am Jacqueline Renee and I am what I am and no answer that I give you to this question will make what I am any different.

Here’s a list of songs in case anyone needed new music to listen to
Trouble - Halsey
Hold Me - Tom Odell
Another Love - Tom Odell
Electric Love - BØRNS
Blood - The Middle East
Work Song - Hoizer
Stressed Out - Twenty One Pilots
Find Someone - Sheppard
Dead Inside - Muse
Hollow Moon - Awolnation
Cigarette Daydreams - Cage The Elephant
Not In That Way - Sam Smith
Sex - The 1975
Stolen Dance - Milky Chance
Broken - Jake Bugg
Blame It On Me - George Ezra
Big Decisions - My Morning Jacket

SHE DOES LOVE YOU, BUT SHE’S TERRIFIED.

You are a beast straight out of a children’s book. You smile at her, and what she sees is wonderful and terrifying. Your love looks like something she only recognizes from an old photograph or daydream. In person, it grows claws, it makes magic, it has teeth.

She’s burned her hand on the stove before, but this is a forest fire and she’s in the middle of a hike she doesn’t know the path of. She wants you to know that she’s brave enough for this, but she needs a roadmap, needs a north star, needs something promising on the horizon.

Because she does love you, but she’s terrified. By the lavender and the pots and the window, she watches the village that survived the storms. The houses are broken through and thatched up, roofs still opening their mouths up for more water.

Thirsty, but careful with what they have left.

You press her into the crescent moon, you make love to her against the stars. When you look at her that way, she calls it Genesis. When you say the things you do, she opens up her wounds and hands you both a bandage and a knife. You choose.

She writes your middle name in ink above her hipbone. She prolongs the bruise you left on her neck. She lets out her heart when it’s on a leash.

Open, but leave your shoes at the door.

Thirsty, but careful with what she has left.

—  she does love you / nlp