last night was too much all at once


Pairing: Peter Parker (Spiderman) x Reader

GIF Credit: ^^^

Warnings: Mentions of sex, hICKEYS

Rating: PG-13

A/N: Dude, Petey is seriously the cutest, also, this is a little short. “Anon: the Avengers thinking someone really hurt Peter because he has bruises on his neck/going onto chest and interrogating him who they need to kill until he cracks that they’re just hicKEYS HE’S OK REALLY GUYS then realizing what it is and reader walks in and smugly kisses his cheek and FLUSTERED PETEY?

Peter sat calmly on the Avengers shared couch in the common room. Today was a good day for him. Not too much homework since it was the first day of summer break. Also, last night was an amazing night with you; and by amazing, he means, neither of you got much sleep. Both of you woke up, sore but tangled in each other’s arms, smiling. He didn’t mind your morning breath and it showed as once again, he made you writhe and moan under him.

The one thing that distracted him was the massive amount of hickeys all over his chest and neck. It’s not like you were any better, but a lot of the hickeys on you were in places only he could see, places that were his. You had taken the liberty to mark him everywhere. It made him nervous. Aunt May and found out the hard way that Peter and you were intimate. The Avengers, hell, they didn’t even know you two were dating. So Peter wore a sweatshirt, despite it being almost 90 degrees.

Peter’s strange attire didn’t pass by Steve or Tony. “What do you think those are? Bruises?” Steve asked. Tony just looked grim, nodding. “Should we talk to him? I know he gets bullied at school.” Tony nodded again. Both of them walked over to Peter, sitting down on either side of him. Peter looked at them, confused and worried. Steve put his hand on Peter’s shoulder. “Bud, have you been beaten up?”

You can in through the door behind the couch and neither of them looked at you. When you heard Steve’s question, you smirked, you had to hear this.

Peter looked confused. “What do you mean?”

“The bruises,” Steve says, rubbing his shoulder. Peter’s face turned red and he looked incredibly embarrassed, almost as embarrassed as when May walked in on you two one night. He rubbed the back of his neck.

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Sugar Sweet | 3 | (M)

word count: 5.1k

genre: smut + fluff; college AU + fuckboy!kihyun

pairing: reader/kihyun

summary: your best friend & roommate changkyun just wanted to help get you laid. instead you found solace in a pink haired man named kihyun who had a smart mouth with sharp words you weren’t afraid to let cut you, as long as he didn’t mind you hurting him a little too.

a/n: there’s no actual smut in this chapter, just lots of talk about it along with seriously suggestive things, but it’ll be in the next one! thank you so much for the support and love for SS so far!!  ♡ ♡ ♡

part 1 | part 2 | part 4 | part 5 | part 6


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☇  hogwarts au

genre: pretty much fluff ( but maybe a lillll bit of angst??)

pairing: jimin // you

word count: 4.8k

warnings: none

Description:  “hi, you don’t know me, we’re from different houses, and i’m not exactly sure how to tell you this, but i think your cat is in love with my toad??” was all you wanted to tell him. Only it goes terribly wrong when Park Jimin mistakes you for one of his one night stands. You hope that’s the last time you’ll ever speak to him, only it’s too late. Once you’re on his radar, you won’t be able to get rid of him.

A/N: inspired by a prompt i saw floating around tumblr!! although it got reaaaaally off track and long

selcouth (adj.) - unfamiliar, rare, strange and yet marvelous


“Agh!” you yelp, hopping backwards and scrambling for something to hold onto. You get a glimpse of a long, fluffy orange tail before it disappears under your bed. One of your house mates, Heeyeon, looks up from where she’s doing her Defense Against the Dark Arts homework.

“Why are you so loud?” she sighs, leaning back onto her hands. She watches as you slowly crouch down.

“That stupid cat is here again,” you say, frowning. Heeyeon slides off her bed and pads over to join you by yours.

“Again?” Both of you lift up the dark blue bed sheets that cover your bed, just in time to see a streak of orange fly out. You cry out, while Heeyeon fishes out her wand and flicks it. The door to your dorm slams shut, with the orange cat colliding into it.

Mreowwww,” it wails, scratching at the dark mahogany door. You wince at the noise. You’re sure there’s going to be scratch marks.

“How does it even get in here?” you mutter as both of you slowly walk towards it. You and Heeyeon decide to stop a good two feet away when the cat spins around and hisses at you, its fur bushing up.

“I swear, the poor cat is in love with your dumb toad,” Heeyeon comments, shaking her head. “Last time we found it, it was like kissing it.”

You glare at her. “Okay, it’s not exactly my toad. It’s Jungkook’s, and I’m just helping him look over it while he’s gone for Christmas.”

“Same thing,” says Heeyeon, tentatively using her wand to poke the large cat. It whips its head around and slashes at her.

“What the hell!” She scoots back, barely avoiding its claws. “Why is it so violent?”

“Well don’t poke at it, obviously.” You both watch as it continues to scratch at the door. A few moments later, the door swings open. 

Kyulkyung, your best friend since your first year at Hogwarts, screams, tripping over the orange blur as the cat streaks out of the room. She places a hand over her heart, her large brown eyes wide.

What in Merlin’s beard,” she gasps, “just happened?”

“Some cat keeps getting into the Ravenclaw common room and into our dorms,” you say, standing up from where you were crouching and patting down your robes.

“I’m seriously wondering how it gets in here, like you need to know the answer to the riddle,” adds Heeyeon. Kyulkyung’s eyebrows furrow.

“That cat seems awfully familiar,” she muses. “I feel like I’ve seen it around the corridors near Slytherin.”

Heeyeon wrinkles her nose. Back then, Slytherin and Gryffindor were mortal enemies. But now, it was your house, Ravenclaw, that absolutely despised Slytherin. Both houses were full of intelligent and clever students, causing a lot of competition. At first, it was just house points and academics, but soon it escalated to even Quidditch.

“That’s it!” Kyulkyung suddenly snaps her fingers, a triumphant look on her face. “I know whose cat that is.”

“Who?” you ask, heading back to your bed to collect your books for your next class of the day, which is Charms. Though it is Christmas break, classes still go on. They are easier though, the usual academic rigor gone since most students aren’t here. You take this chance to further your studies and learn ahead.

“The Slytherin hottie Park Jimin.”

You trip on your robes.


“Okay, so, how am I supposed to tell him?” Charms had just ended, and you, Kyulkyung, and Heeyeon are now entering the Dining Hall. All three of you eye the Slytherin table, eyes trained on where a certain boy is sitting with a few of his friends. You are surprised he didn’t leave for Christmas break.

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anonymous asked:

Ok but what was going on with cat and the president?? Do you think that maybe we could have a backstory on that? Either way thanks

She’s not supposed to sleep with her residents.

Then again, she’s not supposed to share pot brownies with them either.

And she can’t, if truth be told, say which comes first.

Wanting to sleep with Cat Grant, or just wanting to see if she can experience what these humans swear is a great high.

She gets a boyfriend, though – a boyfriend that is much safer than a girlfriend, because this planet is hard enough to grapple with, to blend into, and she doesn’t need to give the world any more reason to scrutinize her – and she keeps hearing flutters that he’s going to propose soon.

Cat doesn’t approve, and she’s not quiet about it.

She doesn’t approve because “oh come to your senses, Liv, you know you can do so much better than signing yourself away to some oaf of a senior” and because “who’s going to stay up all night watching C-SPAN with me if not you?” and because “I’m not saying that a woman’s worth is in her beauty, you know I’m not, but you’re just too hot for him, darling.”

Cat doesn’t approve, and instead of making Olivia feel alienated, it makes her feel closer. More secure. Cared for.

Because lord, does Cat care for her.

Cares for her when their study sessions last too late into the night, and she crashes in Cat’s bed, and Cat can do nothing but try not to fidget too much all night, try not to wake her.

Cares for her when the Student Union election board tries to smear her name, and Cat goes full tilt in the school paper to clear it. And, of course, Cat wins, so Olivia wins.

Cares for her when her boyfriend, now fiance, throws himself at Cat, not Olivia, when his team won the championship that night; cares for her when Olivia dumps the man, not the woman, and Cat holds her all night while she cries, and not once does she offer a cleverly-worded I told you so.

Just as she cares for her now – scales and all – and Olivia’s second stomach still flips in that old familiar way, because Cat Grant is still the stuff of legend, and Cat Grant is still by her side.

And somehow, that means they’ll get out of this alive.

Ok we all know that the scrapbook Hagrid gave Harry was full of pictures from various friends and we’ve all kind of agreed that a lot of them were from Remus but have we imagined Remus gathering them together?
•These were some of his last ties to his best friends, three of which he thought dead and one who was in prison, supposedly for causing said deaths.
•He probably had shoeboxes on shoeboxes of pictures, because once Peter disappeared and Sirius was sent to Azkaban he ended up with their photos too.
•He probably avoided looking at them because they gave him too much heartbreak, except in the middle of the night with a bottle of cheap whiskey and a bar of chocolate.
•He probably cried getting them together for Hagrid.
•He probably felt like a piece of his heart was getting ripped out, but he had to do it because this was for Harry.
•Harry, the boy he’d held as a baby and seen say his first word.
•Harry, who was the son of two of his best friends and should’ve had the most love of any child ever, and instead Hagrid said he was sad, and didn’t understand his heritage, and didn’t remember the color of his mother’s eyes or the brightness of his father’s smile.
•Half those photos probably had writing on the back that Remus read over again while packing them up, and he probably wrote little notes on the backs of those that didn’t.
•Half those photos probably had Remus in them.
•And Remus probably only had half the photos he could’ve, because Lily and James’ were probably destroyed the night they died.

You Get Drunk Around Them For the First Time

S.Coups: Seungcheol would be surprised, but nonetheless let you continue to drink and have fun. He would keep an eye on you though, just in case you were to do something that might get you in trouble.

“You can have fun, but if you start to get on a table and dance or something I’m going to carry you out over my shoulder.”

Jeonghan: Jeonghan would be right there with you, he would match the amount of alcohol you consume and enjoy seeing this new side of you. He would try and tease you about it in the morning, but fail because he was just as embarrassing.

“Remember when you called your mom last night, I mean, I called mine too…”

Joshua: Joshua would let you drink as long as you were doing it responsibly, but as soon as it got to be too much he would bring you home. He’s the type to wash of your makeup, plug your phone in, and make sure you had a bottle of water for when you woke up.

“Make sure to drink a lot of water. I made some toast too, I heard it’s good for hangovers.”

Jun: Jun would let you drink and keep an eye on you, but unlike S.Coups he wouldn’t stop you from doing something embarrassing. He would bring it up with a huge smirk on his face the next day when you asked what you did the morning after.

“You’re not going to believe me! You ate a habanero pepper like it was nothing even though your entire face turned red! It was amazing!”

Hoshi: Soonyoung would be so happy to see you getting drunk, he’d encourage it and buy you more shots just to see how happy and giggly you would get. He would also make you dance with him and laugh over how funny whatever dance move you were doing was.

“You literally did the running man for five straight minutes last night to a slow song. I laughed so hard I thought I was going to hyperventilate.”

Wonwoo: It would be borderline impossible to get drunk with Wonwoo around, sure he would let you have a drink or two, but once you got drunk he would turn into a babysitter. He’d make you sit down and not move like a timeout and refuse to do anything you wanted to do.

“I don’t care how much you want to dance with me we’re not going to. Now sit still, I’m calling a taxi.”

Woozi: Jihoon would let you drink as much as you wanted, he just wants you to be able to let off some steam. As soon as you want to start doing something dumb he would let you do it as long as it doesn’t involve him, he would probably roll his eyes whenever you got an idea though.

“I can’t believe I’m dating someone who actually spent four hours last night trying to catch a goose at the park.”

DK: Seokmin is the literal definition of enabler. He would share all of his drinks with you until the two of you were completely wasted. He’d offer to do the dumbest things: getting tattoos, going on a random flight to wherever, dying your hair, etc. Thank god the two of you make sure you don’t have enough money to go through with these ideas before hand.

“I’m not sure what we did last night, but I just got a text from an unknown number asking if my divorce was going okay.”

Mingyu: Mingyu would find it adorable that you were drinking. He would take it to his advantage and show a little more PDA than you would ever allow if you were sober, giving you long hugs out of nowhere or smothering you with kisses in the middle of the dance floor.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about of course I didn’t tell everyone at the bar last night that we were just engaged and let them all sing to us.”

The8: Minghao would try to stop you from drinking at first, but once you passed the point of no return he would let you do whatever you wanted. He would follow you to make sure you didn’t do anything illegal, but he would make sure to add as much of the night as he could to his snapchat story.

“I’m not deleting that video of you singing Ring Ding Dong to a stranger off my story, it’s too funny.”

Seungkwan: Despite what people may think, Seungkwan would actually be very tentative in making sure you weren’t doing anything you would regret (he does protect the other members a lot). However, you wouldn’t realize that he wasn’t letting you do the dumb things you wanted to do because he’d so easily make you forget that you wanted to do them in the first place.

“Yeah, I don’t know how I convinced you to try to learn how to knit instead of letting the bartender shave your head either.”

Vernon: Vernon would react the most awkwardly out of everyone in the group. He would tell you not to drink or do whatever stupid thing you were about to do, but it would be pretty passive and you would continue doing what you were doing anyways until he could manage to get you home.

“I know I’m supposed to be the responsible boyfriend, but at the time you really wanted to throw your shoes in the lake.”

Dino: Chan wouldn’t understand what was going on while it was happening, of course he would know you were drunk, but he wouldn’t understand why you were acting the way you were. He would ask you why you were doing something making even your drunk self question why you were.

“I don’t understand, why do you want to flash that cop? Don’t you realize you’ll get in trouble if you do?”


Couple Goals

Word Count: 734

Inspired by one of Caspar’s live streams where he forgets Maddie’s birthday

It was around ten when you woke up on the Saturday morning. Conor was passed out next to you, his mouth open slightly as soft noises were let out every time his chest rose. He and a few of the other boys had gone out last night, and you heard a few of them stumble in during the night, along with Conor who had somehow managed to make it up the stairs and into bed with you.

You could see the sun shining in through a small gap in the curtains, and decided you would go out for a run to enjoy the weather. After a few more minutes of observing your boyfriend’s sleeping state, you got up and changed into running gear and laced up your shoes. After pressing a light kiss to Conor’s cheek, you scribbled out a note and left it on the side table letting him know what you were up to, and exited the room, somehow managing to get out the front door without making too much noise.

The sun’s strong rays warmed your body from the slight breeze. It was quite along the river, and the wind felt good on your sweaty face.

A while later you decided to turn around and head back to the flat. Realizing it was almost noon, you decided to stop at the cafe down the street from your flat and pick up some breakfast. You ordered an iced coffee and a yogurt for yourself and a load of pastries and other goodies for the guys.

You carried the bag of treats back to the flat, and opened the door to find Conor, Jack, Joe, Caspar and Josh in your living room, watching TV softly and joking around.

“Hey there’s m’gal!” Conor said from the couch, in one of his many accents.

“Oi Y/N!” Jack cheered once he saw the bag in your hands, “You’re a legend!”

“Oh, cheers Y/N,” Joe said, also discovering what you were holding.

They all thanked you as you brought the food over to them. Conor pulled you down to the couch and pressed a quick kiss to your lips, “Thanks love,” he whispered in your ear.

“No problem babe,” you smiled at him, “So, how was last night?” You asked the rest of the guys.

“Oh, way too much fizzy pop,” Jack said straight away, making you laugh.

“It was really fun,” Josh said, the other guys nodding.

“Who’s birthday was it again?” You asked.

“One of Oli’s friends,” Conor answered, and you nodded.

“Speaking of birthday’s,” Josh spoke up, “Can you guys believe Caspar doesn’t know his own girlfriend’s birthday?”

“I do know it!” Caspar quickly shouted, “I got it confused with yours at first, but I do know it.” The other guys were laughing at him, as were you.

“I bet Conor knows Y/N’s birthday,” Joe said.

You and Conor had been together for a little more than seven months, but were already pretty serious, you practically lived at his flat. As it had been less than a year, your birthday hadn’t been in that timeframe, but of course Conor knew the actual day of your birthday.

“Do I know it, of course I do,” Conor said, his eyes widening as he pretended to not know for a few seconds, making you laugh. “Oh I know, it’s the 5th of May,” he said, smiling at you, which you confirmed by pressing a kiss to his cheek.

“That’s no fair, of course you know it, it’s coming up in a few weeks!” Caspar pointed out.

“Do you know what time she was born?” Jack asked.

You had told Conor once or twice before, but you didn’t expect him to remember.

He stared at you for a few seconds with his lips pressed together and his eyes squinted, af if the answer was written on your face in tiny print. He threw his head back, “Oh god, I know this, you’ve told me before.” Caspar started at Conor in anticipation. “5:44 in the morning?” He finally answered after a minute or so.

“How did you remember?” You asked him, surprised he got it right. Caspar cursed under his breath and the other guys laughed.

“I never forget anything you tell me babe,” Conor answered, winking at you, causing you to laugh.

“Wow, couple goals, unlike Caspar and Maddie,” Joe said jokingly.

Wrapped Around; pt. 2.5

Jimin x Reader x Tae // College!AU // 3990 words

Originally posted by bangtannoonas

Summary: Freshman year was a mess and sophomore year doesn’t seem to be looking too good either. You know boys like them are no good for you but maybe they’re just your kind of type

Genre: Fluff, Smut

A/N: wow I’m so bad at updating, I’m so sorry ahahah. This is a small portion bc I needed to split up what I’ve already written and I’m not sure when I’ll finish the actual part 3 bc I have mid-terms next week! I feel super bad for making y’all wait so… this is roughly (4000/11000 words i’ve written). It ain’t much but ya know don’t hate me pls haha.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3


You run your hands up and down your neck in horror as you see matching dark marks on your neck. What are these? Who did this? Just what the fuck happened last night? Did fucking Jimin— Son of a bitch.

You run to your door, pulling it open hurriedly just so you can catch him but Jimin had made a quick escape.

You slam the door shut, searching instead for your phone. You call him once, twice and he doesn’t pick up… which is odd since he’s practically glued to his phone like all the time. You let out an annoyed groan and settled on texting him instead, fingers furiously tapping at the screen as you typed out your message.

[1:09] You: Jimin what the fuck happened last night?

[1:09] You: how am I even going to hide these marks?

[1:09] You: why couldn’t you just keep your nasty mouth to yourself?

[1:10] You: answer me asshole

[1:10] You: I know you’re reading these

[1:10] You: you’re on your damn phone all the time when we’re doing the quizzes

You wait 5, 10, 15 minutes and there’s still no reply. You go to the bathroom for a quick shower and run to your phone immediately after getting dressed and still no reply. You examine the marks once again and you rest your head on the wall, grumbling at yourself for having too much alcohol the night before.

Even with a scarf, you couldn’t cover the marks that ran all the way to your jawline. You apply a generous amount of foundation and concealer, hoping to hide the petals of blue and purple but you could still see a hint of colour even after slathering on what seems like almost half the bottle of foundation onto your neck. Frustrated, you simply shove the last of your belongings into your bag and make your way to the library.

The throbbing headache you had made it very difficult for you to concentrate on the books you had in front of you. Despite sleeping till 1 pm, you still felt exhausted and you promise yourself to never have that much alcohol again. You sigh, this was starting to sound like what you used to tell yourself every week last semester.

After finishing the last section of your lab report, you allow yourself to take a quick 20-minute nap because honestly you could barely keep your eyes open anyway. You check your phone again, you’re still waiting on Jimin’s reply but your lock screen still comes up blank. Placing your phone to the side, you sink down comfortably into your chair and rest your head on your arms. You will your mind to remember the events of last night but the moment you shut your eyes, you simply drift to sleep.

Your night comes back to you in the form of tiny flashes, simple snippets, each one making you regret the night more and more. The short flashbacks are not in order and it isn’t enough for you to build a coherent timeline of what was your exciting Friday night but they were truly enough to make you feel like flinging yourself across the room.

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The Council: Chapter 5 [The Introductions]

Originally posted by timetoemptythetrash

“So inquisitive. But that doesn’t matter. You’re here now, not them. All I’m saying is Mark is never like this with ANYONE. I told you… he likes you”.

Again there’s the warmth and the faintest jittering in your stomach.

You don’t get the opportunity to process all these conflicting thoughts and feelings before Shanna is pushing you into the bathroom.

“Come on. We’re getting ready!”.

A party, it was then. Hopefully one full of the kind of people you could gather bits of intel from; and then of course… there would be Mark.

As you finish the last of your party preparations, Shanna stands to help you zip up your dress. When she clasps the top she lets out a squeal of approval. Even though you’ve only met her and making friends with the subjects of your investigation is far from ethical, something about her presence is comforting. You haven’t had time for friends in months and she is not only kind, but exactly the type of person you’d befriend outside the confines of the estate.

You let her lead you to the full length mirror in Mark’s expansive walk-in, eyes widening when you finally see yourself. Deep emerald silk clings to your body in all the right places, loose curls flow down your back and the perfect shade of red paints your lips.

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a love that sustains you

One of the things I’ve been thinking about (thanks to the iconic pillow postthis post about Isak’s bed, and this beautifully researched post on Isak’s eating habits) is the idea that having Even in his life is really nourishing for Isak? What are major ongoing themes of their scenes together? Eating and sleeping. Where are the places we associate with them? Kitchens and Isak’s bed. The first time they really explore their connection together, they spend time together in his kitchen as Even cooks for them (”we can’t go back now” applying to much more than their cheese toast). The first time they kiss, we see them together in Isak’s bed spending all this lazy time together (as Isak yells to Eskild that he’s ‘sleeping’). And when they pull apart later, these essential parts of life unravel too: Isak with his sad cafeteria cheese toastie when he encounters Even again and can’t look back on “Kardemomme!” without it causing him pain, Isak being plagued by his inability to sleep. He hears Noora opining a lack of love in the middle of the night keeping him awake, he’s barely functioning at school. And it’s what culminates in finally pushes him to open up, when he goes to the school doctor for insomnia and instead hears he needs to communicate.

When he finally is ready to talk to Jonas, it’s over the nice and filling meal of kebabs. When they come together as a couple, it’s marked by Even staying the night and cooking them breakfast in the morning. When Even is trying to make the most of them but it all spins out into too much, it’s all opulent food and white sheets. When Isak comes to tell him he’s not alone, he bundles Even back to his bed and in the morning, he’s the one asking if he’s hungry when Even has consistently been shown feeding Isak. And their story closes for the time being with them in both of these places once again: in the last scene that’s between just the two of them, they’re together and happy in Isak’s bed and in the last scene of them together in the season, it’s in Isak’s kitchen.

I love that Isak finding Even, with all the change that brings to his own sense of self, is equated to a need like that. After food and sleep, we need communication and self-acceptance and love. This season was about Isak accepting a fundamental part of himself. And it was about this love being shown as something healthy, something natural, something that fed both Isak and Even. When so many depictions of same gender relationships in the media are oversexualized or kept unusually distant, I can’t think of anything more welcome than the everyday domesticity we see them build on. Cooking and eating and sleeping and loving. Love being something that nourishes and sustains.

Out of the Egg. (Jungkook x Reader) Part 1

“The bird fights its way out of the egg. The egg is the world. Who would be born must first destroy a world.” – Demian by Hermann Hesse

Jungkook x Reader; (with the rest of the BTS members here and there)

Fluff, Angst; mentions of violence, death, sexual harassment (briefly), and warfare

War/ Rebellion Au

Summary: The world you had once known is now bare and rotting with evil. Families were torn, houses were burned, and businesses were shattered by the Oppressors. In your world, there were only two possibilities – if you weren’t working with them, you were owned by them. However, a new faction arises that sings of hope and taking back the world that was once for the people, calling themselves “The Changers”. Although you tried to go unnoticed by either of them, out of fear of being killed or captured, you soon find yourself deep in the middle of the rebellion after an unexpected encounter.

Parts: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 (Finale)

A/N: I felt like posting the start of this series today because of all of the events happening in the world recently. I hope you enjoy and take good messages out of this story! Spread love ya’ll and keep fighting and overcoming challenges – big or small — to reach your dreams <3

Originally posted by theking-or-thekid

           You hadn’t seen the sun in years.

           The skies had been painted gray for a long time now, clouded with smoke from explosions, from fires, from vehicles monitoring the people’s every move. You pulled your hood to cover your face and looked down, trying to blend in with the rest of the people going to work to feed their families and themselves, despite the bleak state of things surrounding them.

           As you usually did, you took a detour to avoid any guards stopping you on their random citizen scans. You smiled as you looked longingly at the abandoned playground where you had spent your happy childhood. Had you known then that those days were going to be so easily taken from you, you would’ve cherished them more in the moment. But you were young, would you have played differently even if you knew then what you knew now?

           Your smile faded as the flashback of memories seeped into your mind. Back to when it all began, back to when your dreams of your future were ripped away right in front of your very eyes.

           It had been a disappointing overturn of leadership, but what change doesn’t bring about some sort of dissatisfaction from the masses?

           People went about their lives, believing that things would continue as they were with minor changes here and there.

           But our assumptions and neglect only left us vulnerable.

           Soon, people who were once our friendly neighbors stormed into each other’s apartments, ratting out those that the new leadership deemed “didn’t belong out in the public”. They were ridiculous standards too. Mostly resounding excuses stating that, “they weren’t like everyone else”. Yet when you looked around, nobody was like everyone else. At the time, you didn’t understand. Now, you realized you weren’t supposed to understand because this…this was hatred of an illogical level. This was selfish and unreasonable leadership.

           A leader for himself, not a leader for the people.

           You thought you were untouchable at the time. That everyone you heard in the news or read about in the papers was just “someone else”; that it wouldn’t affect you and your family or anyone that was close to you. You lived in a bubble, believing that the reality of things wouldn’t knock on your doorstep.

           You had a best friend when you were little, Jeon Jungkook. And like all childhood friendships, you spent every moment of the day together. You were neighbors so you were essentially inseparable. You played at the very sandbox that now was partially singed and partially compose of rocks and decomposed plants and animals. You squealed and screamed on the slides and swings to your hearts’ content. You played pretend. You dreamed up your futures; you pretended to be part of different realities.

           Even when you were a bit older, you stuck together. After the change of leadership, Jungkook kept you close. In school, he never left your side and he never let you walk home alone. You felt safe with him around, but at the time, you thought he was overreacting.

           But then one day, he disappeared.

           It happened overnight. Quiet, skilled, covered in darkness.

           You didn’t know your world had changed until the morning came.

           You were waiting as you usually did for him to come pick you up at home, but he never came. Easily, you walked next door and punched the code in, only to fill the complex with your bloodcurdling scream. Neighbors rushed over, alert, and gasped alongside you as you found Jungkook’s father sprawled on the floor swimming inside a pool of his own blood. The adults pulled you back, trying to cover your eyes, but they had finally been opened, in the worst way possible.

           "Jungkook…where’s Jungkook?“ you mumbled, your mind on the verge of insanity but too many hands were holding you from lunging into the gory scene. "WHERE’S JUNGKOOK??!”

           You stopped going to school after that day. In fact, you stayed inside your room the days following. The only body discovered in the apartment was Jungkook’s father. He, his older brother, and mother were nowhere to be found. Everyone knew the police was working with the Oppressors, so when they claimed that the family had killed the father and run away with guilt, nobody questioned their judgment. Nobody spoke out. Everyone knew who the real culprit was. Everyone knew that they were now part of the victims being taken into custody because the new leader believed they should be locked out of society and not given rights. It was a small abandoned place, you had heard through gossip, where they treated upright citizens like criminals, giving them portioned meals and forcing them to tight schedules and constant watch.

           "Y/N. I need you to stay very quiet and follow me.“ Your mother woke you up in the middle of the night a few weeks after Jungkook’s disappearance.

           You nodded obediently, your heart racing. The hairs on your skin were on edge and something felt different about the atmosphere. Your mother tightly held your hand as she led you inside your closet and pulled open a hidden compartment in the wall. Your eyes widened in awe.

           "Honey.” she whispered, tears filling up in her eyes, and you immediately understood the situation.

           Your family was next.

           You shook your head violently as she urged you into the compartment, fit for one.

           "We knew this day was going to come soon. We prayed it wouldn’t happen, but it did.“ she caressed your face lovingly. "Please be safe, my darling. I believe in your future.”

           "Mommy.“ You sobbed and she kissed your forehead for a prolonged time.

           "Whatever you hear, whatever happens. Stay in here for 2 days.” she handed you your father’s watch and a folded piece of paper. “And don’t leave until the night covers your tracks. Go to this address. She’ll take care of you.”

           "I love you.“ You whispered as you wept, and she smiled sadly.

           "I love you so much, honey. Your father loves you too.”

           You crawled into the tiny compartment and hugged your knees to stifle your sobs. Your mother stared at you one last time before closing the entrance and enveloping you in darkness. That night, you heard the screams and struggles of your parents, the loud cracks of gun fire, then an eerie silence as footsteps marched all over the place where you had once felt safest. You couldn’t cry out of fear of being found, but your heart was breaking. You felt helpless, frustrated, and numb.

           Everyone that you loved was now gone.

           You exhaled as you slipped into your small apartment and looked into the mirror. Years later and you were an empty shell of what you used to be. You weren’t a captive but you were bound by fear and anxiety constantly, wondering when the day would come when you too would be discovered and killed. You had escaped successfully and you were given an entirely new identity. You changed your hair color and cut it, shedding your old skin. You were much older now. Your eyes held the despair, frustrations, and helplessness that you kept deep inside you, but your face was pulled into an unemotional facade. It was no longer glimmering with dreams and hope, but was dulled by witnesses of untimely death, irrational oppression, and constant hatred. You lived through hell and you had grown up in chains of the new society and its standards. You experienced and witnessed suffering beyond what children and parents had ever imagined would come to fruition.

           At work, in the middle of the streets, in your own apartment complex, people disappeared for reasons you couldn’t understand. People were shot based on “discretion”, they claimed, but it was no secret that it was merely based on the leisure and displays of dominance for those who had the authority.

           Each day was routine. Each day was a battle. Each day was a covert mission to keep yourself safe. And each day you prayed for change. Each day you prayed for a better world to come.

           But a better world never came.

           "Stop right there, woman.“

           You froze, your heart thumping against your chest. Then you suddenly continued on your way down the alley, hoping the guards weren’t talking to you.

           "Hey! Stop right there!” You felt a rough tug of your arm and you were slammed to the ground easily.

           Two grinning cops were hovering over you, eye-ing your figure.

           "Haven’t seen you around here? Are you new?“

           "No.” You stood up hurriedly and dusted yourself off, feigning confidence. “I’ve lived here for years.”

           "I’d think I’d remember seeing someone as beautiful as you.“ One officer caressed your cheek and you slapped his hand away instinctively.

           The officer looked appalled while the other cackled at your clear rejection.

           "You can’t do this to me.” You stood your ground firmly.

           "Oh yes I can.“ he laughed. "Women are for men’s pleasure. You’re lucky we let you work and prance around thinking you have freedom and some sort of control.”

           Soon, the other cop was behind you, holding onto your waist.

           "If you let us have a little fun, we’ll let you go.“ He whispered into your ear, and you shoved him away, disgustedly.

           "I’ve done nothing wrong to be captured!” You argued.

           "Well, we can make that true or false based on your decision.“

           The officer in front of you closed the distance and you felt yourself backed into a wall. Glancing around hurriedly, you tried to find a way to escape but one direction was back to your complex and essentially a dead end while the only way out was blocked by the second officer.

           You placed your hands on the officer’s chest to keep him from coming closer and you turned your head to avoid his lips trying to touch yours.

           "Get off me!” you yelled, hoping that someone would hear you.

           But who were you kidding? No one would dare stand up to the officers and put themselves in danger like that. Everyone put their families and their safety first. And who could blame them? You were guilty of being a silent witness to the Oppressors too.

           "The more you resist, the more I want to take you.“ He hummed as he grabbed your hands and freely pressed his body into you.

           "Take this then.”

           You wriggled and kneed his crotch as hard as you could. Immediately, he was writhing on the ground, and the other officer was quick to whip out his gun, aiming at you angrily. You gasped and closed your eyes, wishing that your death would be a quick and painless one.

           But the shot never came.

           You heard a loud thud and you opened your eyes to find the officer sprawled lifelessly on the ground with gun still in hand. Terrified, you glanced around. You felt a hand on your leg and the other officer was glaring at you, still in pain from your attack.

           "And I’ll also be taking you out.“

           A voice was heard just before the officer’s body flew across your path. You turned to find a tall, lean man wearing a ski mask beside you. He had kicked the officer with ease and he pointed a gun with a silencer to make a clean shot. You stared at him in awe. You weren’t sure whether to be frightened and run away or stay and thank him. Your body felt that the former was more logical so while the scary robber-looking man was checking to see if the officers were really dead, you tried to slip out of the alleyway. However, you were pulled back by your wrist and pressed against the wall with a hand over your mouth, right before a hoard of officers passed by nonchalantly.

           "That’s three times I saved you in roughly two minutes, Miss.” the masked man chimed and you shoved his hand off your mouth.

           "Well, thank you Mr. Robber Mask Man. I appreciate you saving my life but please get off me.“ You stated defiantly but you were soon silenced by his eyes gazing down at you. At first it looked at you intently then knowingly and finally, it brightened up.

           You furrowed your brows and his lips curled up happily. Slowly, he pulled off his ski mask and you felt your knees buckle as he revealed his face.  

           There, standing in front of you, in all his muscular, grown-up glory, was your childhood best friend, Jeon Jungkook. With his signature goofy half-grin, half-smirk, he spoke,

           "I finally found you.”

           You were in too much shock to really process anything he said after that, but you let him drag you away from the bloody scene. All you could do was stare at his back as he did so, wondering if you had in fact died, and this was your reunion with him in the afterlife.

           "I th-thought…I thought you were…“ you stammered, not able to coherently put all the thoughts circulating in your mind into a sentence.

           "Dead?” he chuckled. “No, I’m quite alive.”

           You smiled. At least his teasing didn’t change one bit.

           "Where are we going?“ you questioned.

           "Home.” he grinned.

           "What? Where’s that?“

           "Just be quiet and follow me.” He hummed as he held onto your hand tightly like he used to as kids.

           While you reveled in the reality that now you weren’t alone in the world, you let him lead you– although let’s be real, you had no choice in the matter anyway. After a few hills, a few dark alleyways, and a trip across the sewer, Jungkook finally stopped in front of a large metal door and knocked three times. Curiously, you watched as a scanner popped up and he pressed his hand against it.

           "I have a survivor with me too.“ he called out.

           The door opened and you stepped into a clear elevator. You grabbed onto Jungkook nervously since it felt like you were going to fall down into the abyss with this optical illusion. He laughed but pulled you closer to ease your nerves. Soon, you were descending and the darkness was replaced by the images of a large city. Your grip loosened, and you turned around to marvel at the scene.

           "What is this?” you breathed.

           "It’s the underground city of the Changers.“ he grinned.

           ”The Changers? You mean the rebel group that people aren’t sure is real??“ you pressed your face on the glass in awe.

           "Well, we like to keep it that way so nobody comes looking for us.” he put a hand on your back and guided you out of the elevator. “I’ll give you a quick tour.”

           "Whaaaat?“ you gasped as you stepped into an office building of sorts. It was bustling with people in lab coats.

           "This is Head Quarters. It’s where we make weapons and figure out our plans.” he explained as you explored everything up close, as if you were a kid in your favorite museum.

           "What’s this?“ You reached out towards a large contraption but his hand hurriedly grabbed yours to pull you away.

           "Still impulsive I see.” he chuckled.

           You grinned, glancing down at his hand holding yours as he continued walking down a long hallway. When had been the last time you had the comfort of human contact?

           "Where are we going?“

           "I have to stop by some place first. Whenever we save 100 or more survivors and bring them here, the leader gathers everyone to give them a welcome.”

           "Oh! I heard the leader was quite attractive.“ You grinned excitedly.

           "Where’d you hear that?” he raised an eyebrow.

           "Well back in the office, a few girls swore they witnessed the Changers at work and in the middle of the fight, they caught a glimpse of the leader’s face and fell in love!“

           Jungkook snorted. "What a bunch of bull.”

           You shook your head, “You’re just jealous because he’s probably better looking than you.”

           Jungkook stopped in front of a door and pulled at your cheeks. “You’re still annoying like you used to be.”

           You glared at him and rubbed your cheeks when he let go.

           "But I’m glad you’re alive.“ His expression softened as he stared at you intently.

           You blushed and smiled shyly. "I’m glad you’re alive too.”

           "Come on.“ He gestured for you to follow as he opened the door behind him.

           "Where are we?” You looked around, taking in the dim lighting of the room.

           Jungkook walked towards where the light was, and you heard loud chatter.

           "Stay out of trouble, okay?“ He instructed but you were too busy trying to figure out what kind of room you were in to reply.

           Suddenly, he stepped into the light and you were snapped out of your thoughts by the sound of thunderous screaming and applause, as he appeared on stage throwing on his uniform top. Curiously, you slowly made your way towards the origin of the sounds, which you found to be behind a curtain now that your eyes were adapting to the dim light. To get a better view, you pulled the curtain to the side a bit more, and you gasped as you found Jungkook standing behind a podium, grinning from ear to ear, in front of thousands of people.

           "Hello everyone! Thank you for taking the time out of your busy day to hear me make the same speech that Namjoon wrote for me again.”

           Everyone laughed as you watched from behind, trying to make out the situation. Why was he up there? But your question was soon answered, and your jaw dropped as you heard it echoing loud and clear:

           "Well, for those who aren’t aware, I’m Jeon Jungkook…the Leader of The Changers.“ 

Part 2 

Little White Lies {SIRIUS BLACK}

yet another fic that i’ll write in parts – also my first sirius fic. i hope you enjoy this a lot. also a warning!

- this writing contains light sexual themes, if this makes you uncomfortable please do not read this. thank you my loves xx

Sweat cloaked Sirius’ body; his eyes flickered all around the room, trying to excuse himself for what he had just done. A glance to his side presented him with the most recent girl whom he had slept with. Regret flooded his veins; her tacky arms lay glued to his waist as she lay asleep, her face red and glowing, her eyelashes long and curled. Freckles coated her pale cheeks. Blood red lips contrasted her entire body, bruised from the nipping and the sucking. Had his entire body not been under a trance; intoxicated by the liquid that left a burning sensation down his throat every damn time he swallowed it, he would have been more rational and would have ended the situation before it had started. Now, however, he would be haunted with the consequences of his actions.

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Alexander Nylander - Permission Part Two

(Gif from Google)

Word Count: 1836

Warnings: Cursing

Part One / Part Two / Part Three / Part Four / Part Five / Part Six / Part Seven / Part Eight / Part Nine / Part Ten

*Alex’s POV*

Last night was unbelievable. The girl I’ve had countless dreams about, craving for over a year, finally under my touch. The way she felt, the way she moved, the way she sounded. Everything was breath taking. That is, until my intoxicated brother had to ruin it all. He wasn’t being reasonable. He’s never done this before. So, I don’t understand why it’s happening now, when everything starts coming together for me.

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anonymous asked:

prompt: jimon + sleeping together and then agreeing to pretend it never happened, but obviously that doesn't work *flails*

hi!! thank you for the prompt i wrote this while i was writing my essay and it was the best kind of distraction 

Jace remembers exactly how it happened, because he’s not the kind of drunk to forget things, and he wasn’t even that drunk anyway; he remembers exactly how they’d moved, Simon’s eyes full of promise as they’d kissed, slow and languid and unhurried in a dark corner of Magnus’ party, and then they’d stumbled into one of the bedrooms; he remembers exactly how his heart had broken, clinging desperately to this one chance to be selfish and have what he wanted, and maybe that’s the saddest thing of all.

The memory is burned across the forefront of his mind, of Simon leaning in and whispering, low, his body swaying slightly to the music why are you here, Jace, I’m not even your type, man. And it was meant to be a joke, the kind they’re allowed to tease each other with now that they’re friends, or something like friends-adjacent, but Jace had been stupid-confident with the low, exhilarating buzz of alcohol and he’d leaned in closer, too close, and whispered back but you are and Simon had made a low, thrilled noise; he’d pressed into Jace until there was no space left between them and sealed their mouths together.

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anonymous asked:

Do you have any song recs you think are kinda clony like?

I think I have some that might work. But I would like to take a step further if you don’t mind. What about songs + headcanons?  <3

   Velvet Revolver - Dirty Little Thing: Tony drives alone to school after a bad night of sleep. He’s so done with Ryan and his overly possessive behavior, that it makes him want to skip school altogether. He is waiting for Tony in the parking lot, eyebrow raised, looking at his watch. Tony is 15 minutes late. He decides then, and there, that he and Ryan are over.

    Soundgarden - Black Hole Sun:  Clay walks alone through the school’s corridors, while listening to music. He looks to his left and notices Tony, staring. He does a hand motion to greet him and walks away. They used to be really close years before, but now, no longer. He sees Hannah by her locker and she smiles at him. He smiles back, but doesn’t have the courage to go there and talk to her properly.

     Seether - Fade Away:  Hannah kills herself, and Clay suddenly feels like he has no air left to breath. He sits in his room for what it feels like days, and he cries. All he does is cry, until he has no tears left. He feels even emptier when he’s done.

    System Of A Down - Lonely Day:  Still in the aftermath of Hannah’s suicide, the days seem the same, and they drag through eternity. He has the cassette player in hand , but his fingers don’t obey him when he tries to press play. Suddenly, there’s a hand gripping his shoulder gently, reassuring. He looks back and sees Tony, smiling at him. He sits by his side, and just…stays there. Doesn’t really say anything. But he stays.

Lana Del Rey - Ride: Months passed since Hannah’s death, but sometimes Clay still feels like he can’t breath. Like everything overwhelms his senses. He calls Tony and asks him if he’s busy. He doesn’t have to say anything else, though. Tony picks him up and they drive around town, without any proper destination. They just drive until Clay had stopped crying, and his tears are all dry. He always feels better after that. 

Hooverphonic - Mad About You ( this version though. : Tony is fully aware now, of how much he repressed his feelings for Clay. He might get a bit too drunk every once in a lifetime, while fixing his car (aka thinking about Clay while looking at the car’s engine), and he hums to the rhythm only, because he knows that the lyrics will raise too much questions with his dad. 

Nirvana - Where did you sleep last night? : Clay found himself a steady girlfriend. Alice is her name.  She’s sweet, but with just the right amount of sour to add a little bit of mystery to her. They still hang out together, but there are nights that he knows Clay is somewhere, with her. Tony parks his car near the cliff, where he knows he’ll be alone. He turns the volume all the way up, and cries to the chorus, pining over Clay.

Portishead - Glory Box:  Alice’s parents are out of town, and she invites Clay to stay over. Halfway through the night, she puts the song on, and dances to it. Her moves are slow and sensual. Clay knows that she’s been waiting for this, and that he’s supposed to feel something, but he doesn’t. She kisses him with her vanilla flavored lips, and when he closes his eyes, he sees a vision of rough hands full of rings, and soft leather jackets. He excuses himself, and leaves. They break up shortly after that.

    Nothing But Thieves - Lover, Please Stay:  Clay is going to college on another city, but Tony is staying. He knows what he wants to do with his life, and college isn’t it. They get into a huge fight because of that, and for the first time in years, they don’t speak for a whole month. The day that Clay’s supposed to go comes, and Tony suddenly appears in the driveway, ready to take him. Clay still doesn’t say anything, and he puts the song to play, lets it fill the void. He doesn’t know how to make his feelings understood, but he thinks that now is maybe too late too even try. They get there and Clay’s crying. His incandescent blue eyes hidden behind the tears. He holds Tony tight, and lets go with a ‘I love you, Tony’, and then he leaves.

     Bill Withers - Ain’t No Sunshine:  On the way back form the campus, Tony listens to this song on repeat almost the whole way. It feels like the end of an era, and he doesn’t know when he’s going to see Clay again now that he’ll live in another city. So Tony cries. He cries for all  that they were, but mostly for all that they could be.

ps. had to take the keep reading, cause it wasn’t showing on mobile.


Honestly, I just felt like bellarke + bathing + intimacy.

It took Clarke the better part of an hour.  First she had to walk to the central storage facility and check out the deep copper tub and lug it back to the cabin.  It was set on a small dolly that left muddy tracks through the hard, crunchy snow that still covered patches of the center of camp.  There had been a thaw for the past few days but Monty’s satellite had picked up a storm system moving their way, and no sooner had she reached the cabin near the council building did thick, fat flakes start drifting down from the iron grey sky.  She set the solar water heater to fill, but that was only good for about half of the total capacity so she filled several heavy buckets and hung them in the oversized hearth.

The trick with getting a bath to the right temperature was to get it a little too hot and then let it cool, but if you let it go too long you were stuck with a lukewarm bath that quickly became a cold one.  There was a reason most people preferred to use the communal bathing house on the outskirts of the camp— you had to share, but the water stayed the same temperature the entire time and it took a lot less effort.   But when Clarke got something into her head she couldn’t be dissuaded, so she waited until the water came to a simmering boil and then poured it into the tub.  She released the tap on the water heater just a short time later and watched the steam rise from her perch on Miller’s three legged stool.

Clarke was testing the water for the third time when the door opened.  “Monty’s storm is right on time,” Bellamy announced. His back was turned as he carefully shut the door to their cabin against the cold.  He had snowflakes in his hair, bright white against the dark curls.

“How are they?” she asked.  Bellamy had gone up the mountainside to check on the small encampment up there— several Azgedans and half a dozen of Luna’s people had decided to settle there instead, as their goats preferred the sharp slopes for grazing.  But someone from the council went up every other day to check on them, just to be sure.

“We’re going to have to send an team with Raven up— they’re down to their back up generator again,” he replied, his head down as he untied his shoes.  “I was thinking— oh, sorry, I didn’t realize…I’ll…I’ll go to Miller’s,” Bellamy said when he straightened and noticed the tub.  

Clarke stood and balled her hands into fists.  She’d been planning this all day, and there was no reason to be nervous.  They shared a cabin— and a bed—  after all, and it wasn’t like she was asking him for– she wasn’t asking him for anything.  He deserved this, for everything he did for all of them.  But still, she felt a little fluttery when she cleared her throat.  “It’s not for me,” she explained.  “I thought you’d like a bath.  And one without people coming in to ask your opinion on the fences or whatever.”

“For me?” he asked, and the confusion on his face weighed on her heart.  After everything, he still didn’t seem to think he was owed anything special.  Which was why she did this— dragging a tub that was half her weight across camp, heating up pails of water, even trading a pair of wool socks with a Trikru woman for soap that was soft and fragrant.

“For you,” she confirmed.  “I’m going to sit outside and threaten to shoot anyone who interrupts you.”

Half a smile played with the corner of his lips.  “It’s freezing outside.  And snowing.”

“I’ll dress warm,” she said, a little more fiercely than she intended.

He ducked his head down and rubbed the back of his neck.  “Stay,” he mumbled, and her heart did a funny little leap.  “It’s cold out, and it’s— it’s just a bath.”  She knew he was thinking of the same thing she was— that she woke up every morning curled in his arms, his erection pressed to the small of her back.  They pretended it was nothing— and it was, when you thought about it— and ignored it, but they had reached a level of intimacy that could not be denied.

She had intended to fight him, but the tips of his ears were turning red so she gave in.  “Okay,” she relented, and turned around to let him undress.  The rustle of his clothing made a blush rise on her neck, but by the time she heard the tell-tale splash of him lowering himself in she had herself under control.

“It’s safe now,” he said with a hint of humor, and she turned around.  Bellamy was laying back in the tub, his knees just barely breaking the surface.  He let out a long, slow breath and she smiled, pleased that he was enjoying himself.  “You didn’t have to do this, you know,” he said, opening one eye.

“I know,” Clarke said briskly, sitting down on the stool and handing him the soap.  “I wanted to.”  He looked away at that, and Clarke wished he wouldn’t.

Bellamy soaked for awhile, detailing the problems the mountain outpost was having— several goats seem to have contracted something but no one knew what it was— and dipping his head back into the water a few times before lathering up the soap.  He frowned at it.  “This isn’t the usual stuff, is it?”

“Trikru makes it,” she replied.

“What did it cost you?”

“Nothing I wasn’t willing to pay.  Here, let me,” she said, and took the soap from him.  She worked it into a lather between her hands and then started massaging it into his hair.  Maybe it was an excuse to touch him, but she felt weird just sitting and watching.  This way, she was less of a voyeur— although the tub was deep enough that she couldn’t see anything, at least not from where she was sitting— and more of a…participant.  Bellamy let out a quiet, contented sigh as her nails scratched his scalp and she bit her lip.  She picked up a glass jar from the floor and filled it with water from the tub.  “Tip your head back,” she ordered, placing her hand at the base of his skull.

Bellamy complied, closing his eyes and letting her pour the water over his hair until it ran clear.  His eyelashes fluttered for a second and then he opened his eyes, finding hers.  Clarke’s lungs felt tight and her heart was too big for her ribcage.  Her hand was still at the nape of his neck, but she set the glass jar down and brought her other hand to his cheek.  Her thumb swept across a spray of freckles, and Bellamy turned his head to press a kiss to her palm.  He whispered her name, and suddenly, it all made sense.

For weeks, Clarke had felt like they were dancing on the precipice of something but they were both holding back.  They’d lost too much, too quickly, and what they had— she couldn’t bare to lose him and knew he felt the same.  But last week, she’d overheard him and Raven laughing about something Gina had said once, and it felt good.  Being able to laugh about someone you’d lost meant you remembered the good instead of just the pain, and she wanted him to heal.  That night, part of her had wanted to turn around and face him when his arm curled over her as they drifted off, but she didn’t.  She felt like Bellamy was holding back and she didn’t want to push him, but now— now she realized that he would always hold back when it came to her.  He would always let her make the first move, because that’s who he was.  In moments like this, he would hold back until she was ready.

And she was, so Clarke leaned down and kissed him.  She started slow, but there wasn’t any point— once she pushed them over the edge, they were both gone.  Bellamy surged upwards and a wash of water sloshed over the side, soaking her sweater.  “Sorry,” he mumbled, taking her face in his wet, wrinkled hands and kissing her thoroughly.

Clarke tipped her head to the side to deepen the kiss, her hands now tangled in his hair.  “Don’t be,” she whispered.  “Don’t be.”


Number 25 & 39 With Tommy Shelby:  “I want an answer, goddammit!” “We need to talk about what happened last night.”

“Hello, (y/n), a drink?” Tommy wandered into your living room, a bottle of whiskey in hand. You were expecting an early night, but the trouble with Tommy was that he didn’t know the meaning of those words in that order. 

“I would ask where you get off wandering into unsuspecting ladies houses uninvited, but then you’d think I didn’t know you at all.” You responded, closing the book you had been enjoying and standing up. You had changed into a nightdress and were clad in a robe, although it didn’t matter much. You had been friends for a long time and you were closely involved in the business, being his personal secretary. 

“And I’d ask where the lady was.” He quipped, walking into your kitchen. You gasped in feigned outrage and followed behind him as he reached up, grabbing two tumblers. Using your hands and pushing yourself up onto the counter, you looked over at him as he poured two generous glasses.

“What’s the occasion?” 

 “Since when do I need an occasion to get belligerent with my best girl, hm?” He questioned, cocking his head to the side as he handed you a glass. He did have a point. He had done it before. A lot of times before. Shrugging, you grasped the glass, your fingertips brushing. 

“Hm. Right, well. Bottoms up, then.” You extend your glass and the pair of you clinked glasses, shooting back almost effortlessly. Working with the Peaky Blinders didn’t leave room to not be accustomed to drinking a lot of whiskey. 

Two hours later, the pair of you were strewn on your couch, more than a few glasses deep. You knew your face was flushed in the way it did when you were drunk, and Tommy’s eyes were swimming in the way they did when he had more than a few. You were leaning against each other, your laughter and body heat mingling pleasantly in the slightly chilled apartment. 

“You look pretty like that.” Tommy slurred slightly and brought his hand up to cup your cheek. You had long disrobed and were wearing just your nightdress, your hair loose and cheeks flushed. You looked up at him in confusion. 

“Like what?” You asked, your voice sounding much higher than usual. Resting your own hand over his, you looked away from his eye contact, too intense. 

“Like you’re just yourself. Relaxed.” He stated, like it was the most obvious thing in the world, “There’s something about that pretty color your cheeks turn and the way you’re so comfortable in your nightclothes.” You suddenly felt self conscious. He was scrutinizing you in a way that you had never realized he did. 

“Yeah?” You asked, your voice hushed. He moved his hand from your cheek, and you dropped your own hand. He placed his finger under your chin, tilting your face up to look at him. 

“Yeah.” He was closer than you expected, and you could practically taste his whiskey soaked breath. “Stop me at any time.” He ran his hand over your arm, goose bumps rising in his wake. You closed your eyes in anticipation as he brought his lips to yours, the gentleness of it shocking. This was Tommy Shelby; he was not ever particular gentle. You responded to the kiss, placing one hand on his jaw and the other deep in his hair. There was something about this kiss that promised more. 

Tommy pulled away slightly, looking into your eyes, only to pepper kisses along your jaw. You gasped in surprise, the feeling foreign coming from Tommy Shelby. Sure, you had thought about this before, but to have it actually happen was something else entirely. “Tommy.” You whimpered as he trailed a hand over your nightgown clad legs, traveling upwards. 

“Yes?” He asked against your ear, his hand moving the fabric out of the way of what he wanted to touch. 

“Don’t stop.” You commanded, grabbing his head and bringing your lips together into a searing kiss. He growled slightly, a sound that was so distinctly Tommy, before pulling you into his lap. 

You woke up the following moment in your bed, head aching, and wrapped around something warm. A person. A person who smelled suspiciously like tobacco, whiskey, and something muskier. A person who smelt exactly like Tommy Shelby. You shot up immediately, your hand flying directly to your mouth, the sheets falling and exposing your bare chest to the early morning. 

A chuckle came from the lump in bed, who was now next to you and was clearly already awake. “’Morning, love.” He greeted, voice still thick with sleep and filled with amusement. 

“What the fuck, Shelby? ‘Morning, love?’ I’m not ready for morning talk.  We need to talk about what happened last night.” You said, everything too loud and happening all at once. You weren’t sure how you felt about the predicament you found yourself in, but you needed answers. “What did happen last night?” You didn’t remember much, and you certainly didn’t remember how you got into your bed, completely naked with Tommy Shelby. He grabbed your arm and pulled you back down, which you barely fought. 

“Relax. You were so damn… relaxed last night. Where is that girl?” He asked, smirking. He was toying with you. “I’ve discovered the key to getting you to really relax, and it’s somewhere between the second and third orga-” You slammed your hand over his mouth, mortified. He just laughed and removed your hand. 

“Did you come over just to get into my skirt last night?” You asked, fearing the worst of his intentions. You felt his body tense under you, and you realized just how entwined you were. “Ply me with whiskey and-”

“I’m going to stop you right there, (y/n). What happened last night was spur of the moment.” 

“Do you mean it? I want an answer, goddammit!.” You questioned, eyeing him slightly suspiciously. 

“Yes I mean it. I came to drink and have a good time, we just had a better time than I expected. I didn’t come over to fuck you, but…” He brought his hand down, tilting your head up towards him. It felt familiar. “You were so pretty last night. I’m not one for sentimentality, but I do go after what I want. And truthfully, I’ve wanted to do that for quite a while. Do you feel okay about what happened?” He asked, looking surprisingly serious. 

“I do. I wish I could remember more of it, but that’s okay. We’ll just have to do it again.” You responded, trying your luck and snuggling into his chest. He brought a hand to your hair, “But right now, let’s just sleep. We’ll figure it out in a few hours.” 

For a Lost Daughter: new chapter!

On April 17th, 2016 I posted my very first fic. 


You can read it between the lines of my preface of that post: 

What I said: “Very nervous to post this given how much great Outlander fanfiction there is out there, but I hope you enjoy! “


And yet, here we are a year later. 

I want to sincerely thank you all for being so unbelievably supportive, pretty much from day one. You guys are incredible, and I can’t thank you enough for reading, reblogging, commenting on, making art for, and generally loving on my writing and giving me an amazing community and creative outlet in a very strange period of my life. You guys rock.

AND SO, for the occasion today, I said to myself: 

Originally posted by uptownhags


For a Lost Daughter

The Beginning: Part 1

Most recent chapterSomeone from Home

Everything in between:  Link to my Master List

For Lost Sisters 

October, 1767


It was barely a murmur, but I jumped and nearly fell into the creek as I snapped my head around to face—


Papa, how did you kn—” I turned back away from him and wiped my tears furiously on my sleeve, mortified at how my voice seemed to vanish, “—know I was here?”

I felt the warmth of him settling on the log next to me, his hand coming to rest softly on the small of my back.  “Wee Roger told me what happened, lass.”

What happened. The tears welled up again in force, and my throat went so tight that—

Jamie turned and gathered me to him, letting me sob my heart out onto the shoulder of his clean shirt. “You’ll find your way wi’ Brianna, lass,” he said firmly, smoothing my hair and cupping my head tenderly to him. “I promise.”

But nearly two weeks at River Run hadn’t helped me find me any such a way. 

It wasn’t any one thing wrong in particular causing the trouble between my sister and me. It was a seemingly infinite series of small ones, all culminating in the overwhelming conclusion that Brianna and I might never have a mutually-fulfilling relationship. 

Everything just seemed to fall apart when the the two of us spoke or interacted for any prolonged period of time. We seemed to be forever misinterpreting each others’ words and tones; making bad assumptions misunderstanding one another at every other turn; not finding the same things funny or interesting; gravitating toward different company. …. except, critically, ROGER. 

He and I had already formed a bond before Brianna and I had met, and THAT was a problem. It was what had prompted the showdown this afternoon, in fact. Roger had sought me out to see if I wanted to go for a ride, just the two of us. We hadn’t spent time one-on-one for more than a few minutes since I’d arrived at River Run, and I’d been thrilled to accept his suggestion. I liked Roger greatly, and wanted to hear about how he and Brianna were doing and maybe get his point of view on how I might be better able to connect with her.  

Brianna, though, had been truly hurt by the notion that Roger wanted to spend time with me without her present, and an argument at the stables had become a full-out shouting match. She had all but forgotten me during the altercation, for all of her words were directed at Roger, but my presence was at the core of every word. 

Did he prefer my company to hers? 

Was he getting bored of her? 

Was he wanting to make a SWITCH? 

I’d slipped quietly away from the brawl, toward the woods, trying my very best not to cry until I’d gotten out of earshot of the stables. 

“I can’t do anything right by her, Papa,” I sobbed. All of the pain and hurt clung to me like leeches, stabbing me with guilt. “Everything I try—anytime I try to act differently, to reach her or understand better, just—backfires, and she hates me all the more for it.”

“She doesna hate ye, Faith,” Jamie said sharply. “I see your hurt, but I see hers, too. She doesna hate ye,” he repeated. “Ye must trust me on that, at least.”

I nodded as I pulled back and wiped my eyes. He meant well, but it was wishful thinking, at best. 

“Though I must confess something to ye, mo chridhe,” he said, of a sudden, “sometimes, I feel precisely the same.”

That took me aback and I coughed, sniffling to catch my breath. “Feel how?”

“That I canna do anything right by her.”

I peered at him, my eyes still burning. “Truly? But you two seem—”

“Aye, we seem,” he said, nodding, “but it’s something we have to work at, aye?” Jamie rose and knelt by the water, rummaging lightly in the sand. “Ye know, for as much as you seem a copy of your mother and Brianna one of me, you and I are quite remarkably alike, mo nighean dubh.”

God, how I loved Jamie Fraser—because he was my father, yes; because of all he’d done for me, yes; but also simply for himself. The way he had placed his immediate attention on finding skipping stones to give me time to compose myself, to allow me privacy and time to absorb what he was about to say without feeling I was under scrutiny.

“How are we alike, Papa?” I asked, feeling the rush of tenderness flood through me despite my inner turmoil. Yes, I could easily see why he’d made a lifelong impression upon Claire Beauchamp. Jamie Fraser was a man of heart and of care; of love

“Well, in many ways, in fact, in our manner and look….but at present, I mean that we’re both outsiders of this new family,” he said, skipping a stone thrice before it plonked into the deep water. “Claire and Brianna—they’ve had one another for twenty years, from the very beginning. They ken one another: their moods and tendencies; everything.” He skipped another, managing five jumps this time. “And compared to that, you and I….well, we can hardly be anything but at a disadvantage, aye?”

I made a sound in my throat, part snort, part sob. I knew, alright. 

He went on. “You and I are just getting to know one another, true. But on top of that, I’m still learning Claire again and getting to know Brianna for the first time; and I make mistakes in plenty, in that.” He managed to skip a stone clear to the far bank of the creek. “There’s love between Bree and I, yes, and true affection and liking, too; and yet I’ll say something that vexes her, and I willna ken what in God’s name to say to make it right. Claire is the only reason I havena driven Brianna to clobber me upside the head these last months.” 

Despite everything, I laughed, and Jamie smiled, too. “You and I are alike,” he repeated, “in that we’re still strangers to them, Faith: beloved, important, worthy of their love—but still strangers, in one form or another. It’s joy to build these bonds that join the four of us, utter joy— but not effortless, aye?”

“No indeed,” I laughed darkly. “It seems more effort than joy, for me.”

“But it will be joy, when the two of ye connect at last, aye?” he asked, looking over in concern. “Ye do wish to have something better wi’ her?”

“Yes,” I said at once, “God, it’s keeping me up at night longing for it, Papa. I’m just not sure I’ll ever be able to understand Brianna enough to be a good sister. Everything I do is a misstep—it seems I fail to meet her expectations every single day, in some way or other. We get into the same bed every night, and I’m… afraid! Afraid to say anything to her at all! I seek out Fergus so often because I’m scared to take up too much time and energy from Roger and Ian, and even more so from you and Maman—because I don’t want her to feel I’m taking too much of her people for myself.”

There was true consternation on his face at that, verging on anger. “Has she said as much? That she resents the time ye—”

“No!” I said hastily, waving my hands in dismissal. “No, not at all, I just…NO, I …” I sighed. “It’s only that I tend toward anxiety and avoidance, when I’m afraid, comprends?” I clenched the fabric of skirt in my fists, not meeting his eye. “Fixate and flee. That’s my way.”

Lord, wasn’t that the truth? That’s why it had taken me MONTHS and intense encouragement from Oliver to leave the twenty-second-century and actually set out to find my family—because I’d been too caught up in the what ifs and my many, many crippling fears. It’s why going directly to Ocracoke had been such a leap—I’d faced the danger head-on, and WON. 

Only, the tragedy was that I hadn’t managed to ground that victory in my heart, going forward. I wished I was the woman who’d battled at the stones; but here, in this, I was no more than a small, scared girl. 

“No,” I repeated, doing my best to reassure him, “and please, don’t tell her—or anyone—that I suggested such a thing. It’s just…” I looked up to the canopy of trees overhead, as if the correct words might be found up there, “—difficult… in all the ways I perhaps feared it would be. And…it makes me feel as though I’m not supposed to be here, after all.”

“Listen to me, now.” Jamie knelt and took my hand in his, my cheek in his other. “You’re our daughter, Faith, our child; our firstborn child, and nothing,” he gave me a gentle shake for emphasis, eyes blazing into mine, “nothing—not even Brianna—will ever come between you and your mother and me. Do ye hear me, lass? Not ever. I willna allow it.”

So vehement were his words, so intense his guileless blue eyes, that I couldn’t help but believe. 

I nodded and put my arms around his neck. I savored the comfort of his words and his embrace, trusting in them, at least while their love encircled me. 

A long time later, he kissed my cheek and pulled me to my feet, leading me to the water’s edge, where we had a friendly rock-skipping competition. He won, of course, but he didn’t gloat, and even taught me how better to adjust my grip and wrist.

“I think, too,” he said abruptly, after I’d managed a ten-skip run, “she’s that wee bit jealous, ken?” 

“Bree? Jealous of me?”

“Aye,” he said, brows drawn as he lobbed a stone of his own. “Can ye no’ see it? You’ve such a strong sense of self, Faith,” he went on, at the shake of my head. “The steadiness and sweetness ye have, coupled wi’ your prodigious learning and all the things ye’ve done and seen. Everyone admires ye so greatly, Brianna included.” He picked up another stone and rubbed it between his fingers. “And that’s so verra far from where Bree is, in her own life.” 

“People love Bree, too!” I countered, “Hell, Ian hangs on her every word! She’s beautiful; she’s funny. Her paintings are exquisite. And Lord, you call me a prodigy but she’s a genius. She can do things with numbers at a speed I can’t even fathom! So don’t make me out to be some marvel,” I said, heating up in defense of her, “when she’s just as—” 

“I know, I know, Faith,” Jamie said, laughing a little and touching my shoulder in reassurance. “She’s got just as much to be proud of as you. But,” he said pointedly, finding another rock, “Brianna came back through the stones to us at a crucial time in her life—a time when a lass of her upbringing would be making important decisions about her occupation, her life’s direction, aye? University or marriage or whatever else….and she chose to come here.” 

He skipped the rock but missed atrociously and ended up clattering it on a boulder halfway across. 

He sighed. “Lord knows, I thank Him every day that she did, if only to give us the chance to be a family for a time, at least… but it’s hard for her, ken? She doesna ken what is to be her place here. You’ve your healing, your languages; and on top of it, you’ve been accustomed since a bairn to moving about and adapting to new times and places and folk. Brianna….” He shook his head again. “She's—still so young aye? Young in age and in experience; and she’s come to a new time not even knowing properly who she wishes to be, be it here or in her own place. Do ye see, lass?”

I felt my heart twinge with pain and sadness—not for myself. For my sister. 

“Yes, I see, precisely.”

I had come to River Run craving so deeply to be loved and to feel as if I belonged, that I hadn’t fully stopped to consider how greatly my sister was yearning for the same things. It had been a foregone conclusion, to me, that Brianna was established and confident and seeing me as an outsider—but now that he put it that way—

Brianna must feel as lost as me.

“It may take more time, yet,” my father was saying, hugging me in that way that made me feel bowled over by utter warmth and safety, “but you’re doing just fine, dear heart. And the two of ye will find your rhythm, in time. She just wants to find her place, same as the rest of us.”

This feels very official, does it not?” Fergus whispered to me in French, his eyes flicking around Jocasta’s huge dining table where sat in conference Fergus, me, Brianna, Roger, Ian, Jamie, and Claire.

Definitely,” I whispered back in the same language, grinning, “I should have brought my gavel!” 

It did feel a bit absurdly formal, for all of us to be gathered here in broad daylight with no food before us, as though we were conducting a meeting of some board of trustees….but it was a matter of family business, after all. We’d been taking our ease these last two weeks, enjoying the chance to be together, but it was time to begin making plans to get back to Wilmington and take possession of the print shop before the season turned cold and winter set in. 

Jamie had conveniently selected this time, knowing that Jocasta would be napping. As grateful as I knew he was for his aunt’s lavish hospitality toward the overabundant brood of relations that had taken up residence under her roof, we all knew it was best to conduct these planning discussions without her formidable presence looming, else we would all be obliged to submit to her suggestions—and this next phase of life was about the Frasers

“If you’re quite finished,” Jamie was saying, giving Fergus and me a stern look that made both of us grin like naughty children before quieting, “I’ve been in communication wi’ the landlord in Wilmington and he’s agreed to let us have the vacant shop next door at half price, as it’s gone unrented for so long.” 

“Another shop?” piped up Wee Ian. “What for, Uncle?” 

“A surgery,” Claire blurted, transparent in her overflow of excitement. “A place where people can come to get medicines, get their teeth seen to, wounds mended, and so on.” 

I loved seeing Maman’s passion shining through her usual reserve. I smiled at her, and she smiled back. 

“And you’re going to be the healer, Auntie Claire?” 

“Aye, your Auntie is a rare fine healer, Ian, but so is your cousin,” Jamie was saying, inclining his head toward me. 

Oui, superbe!” Fergus added. “You should have seen how she mended me on our journey.” 

Roger, damn him, piped in about some small scratch I had tended on the road south from Richmond, and I smiled but found my cheeks reddening and my gaze darting toward Brianna across the table from me. Her face was stony. 

God, everyone, change the subject, stop talking about me, please, PLEASE change the subject! 

Thankfully, Claire did. “So, we’ll have the two shops operating side by side. There seems to be a lack of printers AND healers in Wilmington at present, so with all of us working together, we should be able to turn a profit fairly quickly, pay back Jocasta her loan, and be operating on our own two feet financially by next summer, if we manage the books judiciously.”

“Well said, Sassenach,” Jamie said, making a note with his quill. “Now, Faith, lass, you’re of course to work mostly wi’ your mother at the surgery; Fergus and Roger will be needed wi’ me at the print shop; Brianna and Ian,” he said, turning to the two youngest of our contingent, “you’ll be of great use in supporting both establishments, going back and forth to—” 

“I could be the one to manage the books,” Brianna said suddenly, her face brightening more fully than I’d seen her in weeks. Her voice was urgent with enthusiasm, in fact. “I got top marks in my accountancy courses, and I’d love to try my hand at it.”

“Do not worry yourself, Brianna.” Fergus met Bree’s eye with a charming, apologetic smile. “It’s been my own task for years, Milord’s bookkeeping. It would be no great task at all for me to continue doing so.” 

I kicked Fergus under the table. He grunted and gave me a WHAT? kind of look. I gave him one in return (‘Don’t call the one thing for which she’s excited ‘no great task at all’!), but he didn’t seem to comprehend. 

“True,” Brianna said sharply and carefully, her nostrils flaring, and I couldn’t tell if she was trying not to cry or not to throttle Fergus, “but you’re also needed as one of the primary writers for the paper, in addition to Da. Let me take this part of your plate. I’m excellent at math and figuring. I know I can do it.” 

Fergus gaped and stammered a bit. If I was at odds with Brianna in our sibling relationship, he certainly was. Despite having several months advance in opportunities to get to know him, Brianna hadn’t known quite what to make of this pseudo-sibling, and vise versa. 

“Aye, you’re certainly good at maths, hen,” Roger said gently. Damn him, he had the gall to look uncomfortable as Fergus at this turn of events. “But you’ve never actually managed a business operation before. Fergus has. Don’t you think he might be the more natural choice?”

Brianna looked as though Roger had slapped her. Despite her height, her Red-Jamie-intensity and general ill humor these last few weeks, she looked so young and vulnerable and hurt, I wanted to take her into my arms as I’d done at Craigh na Dun. Jesus H Christ, Rog, I wanted to scream at him, YOU should come to her support first above everyone, you —

“Brianna can do it,” I said, bolting to my feet before I even stopped to consider the movement, and drawing all twelve eyes directly to me like laser beams. Bree looked as startled as the rest of them, but wary, to boot, and also…touched?  

I balled my fists and plowed forward, trying not to look at her. No fixating. No fleeing. “She’s the best with numbers and reckoning of any of us at this table. You should have seen her the other day helping Ulysses with calculations for the provisions order from New Bern. She did it all in her head, like THAT!” I snapped my fingers for emphasis. “Calculations you would have had to do on paper, Fergus. Sorry, but it’s true” I said, with a significant look and a regretful grimace, though it was indeed the truth. “She’s the best equipped of all of us to take care of the finances. It’s got to be Bree.”  

“Fergus?” Jamie asked with raised eyebrows, carefully, neutrally

Fergus saw the fire in my expression and—bless him—swallowed back a retort. “Very well. The job is yours, Brianna.” 

She took a deep breath and smiled almost shyly.  “Thank you. If I get stuck at any point, you’ll help me?” 

“Of course, ma chère,” he said with grace and a smile that said all was well. I squeezed his hand under the table. 

“Well, then, that settles it,” Jamie said, making a note on his paper. “Brianna, lass, you shall be our financière.” 

We moved hastily on to other business, to dates and plans, packing lists and arguments over whether or not Rollo would be joining us; but Brianna made sure to catch my eye as soon as possible. For once, her expression was soft, open, no hostility or suspicion. She simply smiled and mouthed, “Thank you.” 

My breath caught and my heart squeezed as I smiled back and silently whispered. “Got your back,” and the grin she tried and failed to suppress melted my heart completely. 

I could have sworn I saw the corner of Jamie’s mouth twitching. As I smiled at him, the twitch blossomed into a beaming glow just for me. Good lass. 

[[more to come. at some point.]]

i’m in a pretty bad financial situation at the moment, because i “looked presentable” during a mental health assessment, i have been deemed “fit for work” despite having anxiety bordering on agoraphobia and really bad stress and depression, all of these symptoms have gotten worse since that decision.

my attempts to try and sort this mess out have just been a total waste of time, i was told on the phone that i needed to get a doctors note, and when i finally got a doctors appointment and got a note written, when i brought it in i was told that i actually didn’t need it at all and also that the period to get the decision reconsidered has run out, it’s unbelievably frustrating.

even if i do get my income support back, there’s no guarantee that the same thing won’t happen again the next time i am assessed, so my hope at the moment is to leave this putrid system behind and make a bit of money with my art; apple quest monsters has sold almost 200 copies, my patreon is growing quite nicely too, i hit 8,000 followers on here last night, and once i’ve finished the art piece i’m working on at the moment, I hope to start doing commissions again too.
i’m making this post to say that i’m really thankful to everyone who has supported me over the years, either financially or by reblogging my content or leaving lovely comments, i feel so much love towards all of my followers and knowing that the work i make has an audience has really helped me going through this rough time in my life, thank you everybody