look at this guy with his pipe

anonymous asked:

Could you write a small Dippica fluff please?

Sure thing, buddy! Enjoy :)

When faced with something new or unexpected, Pacifica was a skeptic. Her doubt made the result all the more surprising.

“So…where exactly did you learn how to braid?”

The mattress sank with her weight as she perched on the edge of his bed and shot Mabel a dubious look. The bed wiggled beneath her as he scooted forward, and she twitched when she felt him brush his fingers through her hair.

“There’s only so much reading a guy can do when it’s sleepover night and you’re sharing a room with Mabel,” Dipper replied with a shrug that she could feel. “You learn fast.”

“Yeah, Dip Dop can do a mean French braid!” Mabel piped up from where she was applying sparkly purple lip gloss with surgical precision and a small pink compact.

He leaned in and dropped his voice. “A braid train is also a great way to avoid the inevitable makeover.”

“Ahh.” Pacifica hesitantly leaned back and let Dipper work his magic. After a beat, she added, “Just don’t ruin my hair.”

Dipper hissed through his teeth. “With all that peroxide damage, who’d be able to tell?”

Her jaw fell open in a surprised squawk and she swatted his knee. “Don’t be a jerk!”

Her back shook with his laughter, but his voice was even when he replied, “I’ll do my darndest, but I can’t make any promises.”

With a huff, Pacifica settled back against him and closed her eyes. She concentrated on the feeling of having her hair braided, and soon her breathing smoothed out to match his rhythm. She was almost dozing when he jostled her shoulder.

“All done! Check it out,” he said with a nudge.

Mabel peeked up from her compact and whistled. “Aye, mamacita!”

Pacifica rolled her eyes at Mabel, but her curiosity was piqued. She hopped off the bed and scooped up the handheld mirror on the end of Mabel’s bed. She crossed to the vanity mirror on the dresser and held the hand held mirror aloft behind her head. To her surprise, a neat French braid trailed down the back of her head, over the nape of her neck and all the way to the center of her back. As she angled the mirror this way and that to get a good look at it, a slow smile spread across her face.

“I think she likes it,” Mabel sing songed.

Pacifica instantly broke and lowered the mirror. She fluffed her bangs and shrugged. “I always smile when I look at my reflection, you know that.”

She caught Dipper grinning in the mirror, and she quickly turned to him.

“Not bad,” she said finally, and she watched his grin settle into a smirk, “Now it’s my turn.”

His face fell. “Wait, what?”

“Fair is fair, and since you braided my hair, now I should do yours,” she replied.

As she crossed the room, his face turned pink and he scrambled for an excuse.

“You don’t have to do that for me, I-I don’t even have enough hair, a-and you know it’s getting late, I’m kinda tired maybeweshouldgotosleep - ”

Pacifica clambered up onto the bed behind him and held him by the shoulders. Before her hands touched his head, she paused. “You washed your hair today after the lake, right?”

Ordinarily, she would have expected a lie from Dipper, weak as it may be; however, he was still so shaken up that he only stuttered, “Y-yeah.”

“Good.” Pacifica wove her fingers into his hair and started to work the roots,

As she massaged his scalp, she felt Dipper relax bit by bit until he was a mound of veritable putty in her hands. Wow, maybe he really was tired. Undeterred, Pacifica separated a few strands of hair and started to plait them together, fastening each with a small elastic. After a few minutes, when a third of his head was braided, his head started to loll forward much to Pacifica’s annoyance. 

“Keep your head still,” she muttered. But he didn’t seem to have heard her; his head keeled forward again, this time on an unusual angle. Pacifica paused her work and called softly for Mabel’s attention. When she had it, Pacifica mouthed, “Is he sleeping?”

Mabel peered at her brother’s face and stifled a snort of laughter with her free hand. “Oh my god, he is!” Then suddenly struck by inspiration, she leapt from her bead and mumbled something that sounded suspiciously like, “Hair bows…we need hair bows!”

As Mabel rummaged in her basket of accessories, Pacifica contemplated Dipper’s sleeping face. So open, so soft, so innocent….the perfect target.


At Dipper’s first stirring, Mabel struck Pacifica’s arm with a squeak. “He’s waking up!” she said in a stage whisper, not that it was needed. Pacifica had eyes, after all. 

She was content to watch Dipper slowly come to, first wiggling, then stretching one lanky arm with a groan and a shudder, His eyes opened slowly, and he blinked at the ceiling a couple of times, not really processing anything. However, he instinctively turned his head toward them and jumped in surprise. Mabel instantly dissolved into giggles. 

He groaned again, then scrubbed at his eyes. “Hey,” he croaked, “How long was I out?” 

“Seven hours. You slept like a baby,” Pacifica drawled. 

“Darn.” Dipper sat up with a grunt and it was all Pacifica could do to contain her laughter because it was a hysterical sight: Dipper, with dozens of tiny plaits sticking up in every direction, each decorated by a bow, a butterfly clip, or a cupcake barrette. It was some of her finest work.

He tried to run a hand through his hair and let out a yelp when it tugged on his roots. He let his hand brush over the top of his head, then his eyes shot open and he bolted from the bed to the mirror.

“Seriously, you guys?!”

This was Pacifica’s cue to leave. She lunged across the room for the door and shrieked when Dipper swiped her arm; but then Mabel jumped onto his back and she was free.

“Run, Pacifica; save yourself! The Alpha Twin has this under control!”

“Mabel!”

Pacifica didn’t argue; she was already halfway to the kitchen by the time Mabel finished her sentence.

anonymous asked:

honestly, my favourite tony trope is him surviving so much bullshit that everyone starts to believe that he's actually immortal. Villains start just giving up on actually killing him, and either incapacitate him or make sure he's unavailable when they start the fight. Some of the more egotistical ones go out of their way to try. There's many conspiracy theories about him, and how it's possible that he's survived. One of his favourite pastimes is reading the more outlandish ones. (Tree)

Listen. It’s common knowledge among the villains of the world. If you’re anywhere close to being a professional Badguy, then you’ve heard the stories. You know the rumours.


Tony Stark Does Not Die. So for God’s sake, do not be stupid enough to try.


Some of the newbies, they ask. They wonder why no-one tries to shoot a fatal hit, why they never even bother to go for Iron Man. 

The older, more weary villains just roll their eyes and mutter “don’t wanna waste my firepower. Save your shots for the ones that will actually stay dead, kid,”

“That asshole crawled out of a cave with a hole in his chest and still managed to kick everyone’s ass,” someone pipes up moodily from the corner.

There’s a sudden bang as a hand slaps on the counter, and the newbie turns to see another grim-looking villain.“I once shot straight through him. Laser right through the stomach. You know what that piece of shit did?” The guy gestures to his lack of foot. “He Goddamn turned around and shot my leg off! and then he just sort of looked down and shrugged at his own fatal wound. He told me I had it worse, and that he was ‘sorry’. Who even does that?”

“I crushed him,” says another, “he just buried out the other way and then caught me a day later. It took me years to get out of prison.”

“I planted a virus in his suit while he was thousands of miles above sea, and not only did he defend it, but he traced my source and sent it back. Thousands and thousands of dollar’s worth of tech, gone,” someone shouts miserably from across the room. “He didn’t even have a fucking keyboard! Every line of code was verbal! He spoke and memorised those lines faster than I could type them, and I goddamn invented the thing!”

A bottle of… something, flies across the room. Obviously everyone is very bitter about this.

The newbie, because they’re always like this at the start; over-confident and stiflingly cocky, puffs their chest and looks them all in the eye. “you just haven’t been thinking about it hard enough. I’ll kill him. Just watch.”


Everyone descends into hysterical laughter. Someone is crying. No one in the room is Okay. 


“Whatever you say, whatever you think or plan, he’s one step ahead. Don’t, for your sake, please. Take Thor. Or Cap. Or maybe the Widow, if you’re feeling brave? But just… don’t waste your time with him. Try and keep him away, instead. That’s all we can ask for,” says someone next to her, obviously taking pity.

“He might be smart, but he’ll have no idea what’s coming when I step on the scene!” Newbie growls. “Listen-”




A few miles across, Tony Stark listens to the whole conversation via a bug he planted in the known Villain Hiding-Spot, and smiles smugly.

“Damn straight,” he mutters, before calling in the rest of the Avengers to gloat.

Meet You Downstairs

Read on AO3

As Jack descends in the elevator to the basement, it strikes him that he never knew his condo building had a rental suite. Between his hockey commitments and hermit tendencies, there’s still a lot about his own home he doesn’t know despite living here for six years. It’s part of the reason he offered to help out around the building: to keep himself social during the summer season. His parents talked a lot about building a community of friends outside of work, and he knows his way around a toolbox so. Why not?

The basement is… really creepy, actually, reserved for the storage lockers and recycling bins. Even the parking garage is a level up and more inviting than this. There’s only one hallway so Jack follows it, certain he’s going the right way when he hears the voice through the wall.

“It’s fine, Mama. I know you wanted to help me pick out a place but this one is great. It’s in a nice neighbourhood, very secure… Yes, I got your pepper spray in the care package, but please, this is Providence, not New York City.”

Jack doesn’t mean to eavesdrop but he can’t help but notice how young this guy sounds. In a building where the average condo sells for over two million dollars, most of the neighbours he sees in the halls are retirees or working professionals. There aren’t many parties, which he appreciates.

He knocks on the cheap wooden door which rattles in the hinges. No wonder they’re renting this room out instead of selling, he thinks. There’s shuffling on the other side, and Jack hears the boy… man say “Goodness, I think the custodian is here already… of course I have pie who do you think I am? Call you back, love you.”

The door opens and there’s a lingering moment of silence as they each look at the person across from them. This guy looks to be a few years younger than Jack, a bit shorter, lean but with well-defined muscles he can see quite clearly thanks to him wearing the shortest shorts that could possibly be considered not-underwear. He’s staring. Oh boy, he’s staring and he needs to not be doing that so he drags his eyes up and they stall on the loose neckline of his tank top.  

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It’s Okay, I Hate Me Too. (Langst)

I posted this on AO3, but I decided to post it on here too because I love it so much ahah (also this is OOC)~

Being overlooked wasn’t a foreign feeling for Lance.

Back at the Garrison, he often heard a plethora of insults directed towards him, said by students and instructors alike. A lot of them from Iverson, the dude who oversaw the cadets. Man, he hated Iverson.

He happened to be strolling past a group of his peers. They were looking at him from the wall they were propped up against.

“Did you hear about that one guy Lance? He just failed his simulation test for the fifth time in a row.”

“Yeah, I did. The dude’s pathetic. How’d he even get accepted into the Garrison in the first place?”

“He only got into the fighter pilot class because Keith dropped out. I’m shocked Lance wasn’t the one to get dropped.”

“He can’t even handle the shit in the cargo pilot class. He’s pathetic.”

Lance just smiled. It’s okay, I hate me too.


“We’re going to have to visit the Worbla planet for some supply negotiations,”  Allura says, after shortly gathering all the paladins plus Coran for a meeting. “The Worblon are fairly nice aliens, so the negotiations should go fairly quickly. So be on your best behavior,” Her light tone disappears as her eyes land on Lance. The mood suddenly becomes more hostile. “Especially you, Lance. You stay in the back. I don’t want you messing this up.”

Lance lets out a nervous, breathy laugh. “Got it, princess.” Allura narrows her eyes even more. Great, she doesn’t trust me. I should’ve seen that coming, though.

The castle-ship lands on the planet. The Worblon gather around the paladins in awe, talking amongst themselves.

“Can you believe it?! It’s the paladins of Voltron!”

“Strong and mighty, strong and mighty.”

“Amazing!”

Allura gains a confident stature when the leader of the Worblon comes forward. They both go somewhere else to talk. Shiro and Keith have a private conversation. Pidge and Hunk had a ‘who can fit their fist into their mouth’ competition. Lance stood by himself until several aliens approached him.

“Excuse me,” The Worblon said, looking up at Lance. “Aren’t you the blue paladin of Voltron?”

Lance gave a soft smile. “Yeah, I am. I pilot one of the legs.” And I’m also the most overlooked member of Voltron…

“You’re not as uptight as the other members,” Another smiled. “I like that. You’re very lighthearted. I don’t think you get stressed in battle. The others are so serious, so scary. You’re, ah, cool.” Lance’s eyes lit up and he gave a genuine grin. This was the first compliment he’s ever received.

“Thank you.”

LANCE!” A voice screeched from behind him. He turned around and saw the fuming face of Allura stomping towards him. Her fists were balled up, and she had gritted teeth. The Worblon he talked to slowly backed away. Lance gulped. What did I do now?

“I specifically told you to stay in the back! What are you even doing?!” She yelled, and the other paladins looked at Lance. They all had the expression of “Jeez Lance, you already messed up?”.
“You’re messing things up again, aren’t you?!”

She turned towards the Worblon. “I apologize for whatever he did. He doesn’t seem to have any seriousness in his body.” The Worblon looked at her, confused.

“He didn’t do anything wrong. In fact, we were just complimenting him. You should be more like him, he’s very lighthearted compared to the serious faces of you guys.”

Allura just gave a forced smile and commanded all of the paladins to go back onto the castle-ship.


“Did you trick the Worblon or something?” Allura asked him later, during a meeting. “We all know the real you. You’re not the one to be complimented on.” Ouch.

“Yeah,” Pidge piped up. “You don’t take anything seriously. You don’t do well in battle either. What’s there to compliment?” The others laughed. Lance just bit his lip and exited the room. It’s okay, I hate me too.


Well, at least the Worblon were nice enough to compliment him.


Lance and the other paladins were currently in a battle with the Galra. Ships surrounded them.

“Pidge, use your invisibility cloak to get us close to the main ship. Keith and I will cover while you and Hunk shut down their ion cannons. Hopefully Pidge will get the information they need,” Shiro speaks from the com, but pauses. “Oh, and Lance, just don’t do anything stupid. We don’t need you goofing off and jeopardizing the mission.”

Lance sighed. “Got it.”

They all split up, each lion tackling their own problem. Lance just wandered around, carefully aiming the giant energy rifle on his lion to blast random Galra ships in his line of vision. He wanted to be careful, because if he fucked something up, then Shiro was going to scold and berate him while the other paladins looked at him with no pity.

Suddenly, the ion cannon blasted Blue, and she went spiraling off into space. Lance got dislodged from his seat and was hitting nearly every wall inside of Blue.

A weird-looking sheet of metal got lodged into Lance’s side. He screamed in pain, and he widened his eyes at the sight of the blood. Another piece of metal punctured Lance’s right eye. He saw a flash of blindingly bright light, and then darkness. He screamed his heart out, and then blacked.


When he woke up, he discovered that the inside of Blue looked like a crime scene. Blood was everywhere. He looked down at his armor to find out that it was damaged severely.

“You okay, Blue?” He rasped, and Blue responded with a purr. She was alright. “Good. ‘Cause I’m going to need you to fly us back to the castle-ship. She started moving.

He reached for his helmet and put it on, hoping to communicate with his teammates to signal that he strayed. Instead, he heard more slander.

“Lance screwed up again. “ Pidge.

“We clearly gave him instructions, how hard is it to follow them?” Keith.

“They were simple orders. I’m honestly kind of shocked.” Hunk.

“Don’t be. When he gets back, I’ll make sure to reprimand him for the trouble he’s caused.” Allura.

“I second that. He needs to learn to take things seriously. We’re saving the universe, this isn’t a board game.” Shiro.

Lance threw his helmet to the other side of the area. He felt tears coming out of his eyes, and he released a shaky breath. He tried his best to huddle into a ball. It’s okay, I hate me too.


Lance put Blue into her hangar and slowly limped into the halls of the castle. He was forced to perform an impromptu stitching on his side with a random first-aid kit he found because the wound was starting to become worse. His eye, however, was a different story. It was still bleeding, and the area around it was slightly swollen.

He heard the voices of his teammates coming from the meeting hall. Holding his side, he limped over to the door. He stopped when he heard the topic the teammates were talking about.

“Honestly, Lance is quite pathetic. He can’t hold off very well on his own, judging by his performance in this battle.”

“He didn’t get his beauty sleep,” A chorus of laughs echoed. “You know how terrible he gets without his beauty sleep. Or manicure, whatever.”

“He acts so much like a kid. How did his parents even deal with him? He’s in his late teens. I’m sure his family was glad when they heard the news of him moving out.”

“He’s a walking, talking disaster.”

Lance slowly opened the door and limped into the room. His teammates, Allura, and Coran gasped at the sight they saw. That was the first time he saw the look of sympathy directed towards him on their faces. He coughed, and blood splattered onto the floor. He gave a weak smile.

“It’s okay, I hate me too.”

When Chasing Love (NSFW 18+)

A/N: Hiii, this is like my first ever Stuart fic. I’ve technically done one with the Hoes a while back but this is my first individual one. The title of this was based off a poem by Michael Faudet that is the bases for this fic. I want to thank @writing-obrien as usual for being my biggest motivator and helper, but I’m also going to thank her for any future help she will undoubtly lend me. This is really different than I’ve written before, but it was the best way I could think to give a good perspective from all sides instead of one. I also wanted to try this style of writing out, because I do plan on writing a Styida fic at some point. I hope you guys like this and thank you all for being wonderfully beautiful people.

Warning: Public Fingering and Alcohol Abuse (Because again, they’re drunk.)

Word Count: 3847

Originally posted by prettiestcaptain

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Build-A-Daddy

or “the college au where lily is a single mom struggling with finishing school and raising a child, and james discovers he quite likes babysitting” (AO3)

(p.s.: thank you to @gxldentrio for being a lovely beta reader!)


Chapter: ½

She’s just another face in the crowd.

But she stands out.

She’s battling her way through the waves of I’m late-s, I should have gone to bed earlier-s and Why haven’t I started that bloody paper yet-s entangling themselves in people’s legs. They trip, but she bears on.

Her hair is made of flames; they lick their way through the sea of people, turning them to ashes, burning a path for her - James is entranced. Her brow is furrowed with decision, and she doesn’t hesitate to nudge someone out of her way with her shoulder, or to make herself bigger with the size of her backpack which looks like it could make her topple over. She parts the flood with sheer determination in her eyes.

She’s unstoppable.

“Hey!”

He goes unnoticed.

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gif cred : @spiderholland

||| Part One ||| Part Two ||| Part Three |||


“Oh, what fresh hell is that,” [Y/N] murmured under her breath as Peter drew out the schematics for her project. Raising a brow and tilting her head, she swore that Peter had just invented a new language. Running a hand through her hair, she shook her head. “I’m going to use the bathroom, I’ll be right back.” Picking herself up from Peter’s bedroom floor, she walked out the room.

“So, did you ask her yet?”

Peter yelped, jumping in his bones and then quickly turning towards his bedroom window to find Ned climbing through it. “Ned!? What the heck are you doing?!”

Nonchalantly, Ned struggled to get himself into his friend’s room. Cocking a brow, he motioned towards himself, “A little help would be nice.”

Unsure of what to do, Peter scrambled up from his spot on the floor and rushed to his friends aid. Yanking on him, he spoke low. “Seriously, dude, what are you doing here?!”

Ned snickered, “To make sure you don’t chicken out.”

Scrubbing his hands over his face, Peter groaned. “Why did you climb up the fire escape? Why not, I don’t know, ring the doorbell?”

Again, Ned snickered. “Would you have let me in? Besides, I know you don’t lock your window for quick Spidey emergencies.”

“Sh, sh, sh!” Peter growled. Now, he started to panic. “You need to leave,” pointing towards the cracked bedroom door, “[Y/N] will be back here any minute. What am I suppose to tell her when she finds you here? You can’t lie, you’ve almost told her I’m Spiderman on more than one occasions and I can’t lie to her because she knows I’m hiding something. And I definitely don’t want to ask her out with you standing here.”

Shrugging, Ned pondered. “Dunno.”

Smacking his forehead, “Oh god.”

“Hey, Peter? Can we switch it up and work on history? My brain hurts from all this engineer-” stopping mid sentence, she raised a brow at the sight of Peter and Ned awkwardly standing facing each other. “Ned? When did you get here?”

“Uh, just now!”

“Funny, I didn’t hear anyone knocking.” [Y/N] crossed her arms, her brow still raised. “What’s going on?”

Peter stumbled over his words, desperate to say something that wasn’t stupid. Ned on the other hand watched his friend walk himself in circles with sounds and noises that didn’t even sound human. Rolling his eyes, Ned patted Peter’s back hard.

“What Peter’s tryin’ to say is that he likes you, a lot.  A lot, a lot. Way more then Liz and trust me when I say that because the kid was obsessed with Liz. I mean who isn’t though, you know? She’s hot and really smart,” Ned winced, “not, not that you aren’t hot or smart [Y/N]. I just mean like, Peter was just really-”

“-enough, dude.” Peter muttered, slightly humiliated.

[Y/N] crossed her arms, amused by Peter’s bright red cheeks. Trying to ignore the fact that her own face was flushing, she chuckled. “I see, and what was your purpose to crash our study session?”

Ned smiled brightly, “To make sure he didn’t mess it up!”

Nodding, “And you think he would have been worse at admitting his feelings than what you just said?”

“Uh,” Ned thought, frowning as he went over what he had said. Looking over at Peter who looked a cross between annoyed and embarrassed. “Sorry, bro….”  

Peter hid his face with his hands, “It’s alright, buddy.”

[Y/N] sucked in air and let it all back out as she thought of what to say next. This wasn’t how she pictured her night with Peter going at all. They had spent the last few weeks getting to know each other and helplessly trying to get her to understand basic mechanical engineering fundamentals. “Ned, can you give us a moment?”

Ned bowing his head, sulked out of the room.

Smiling, [Y/N] lightly nudged Peter towards his bed. Sitting down next to each other, she chuckled at the obvious mortified expression. “So,”

“So.” He repeated under his breath.

Feeling her cheeks get red, she looked down at her hands and whispered. “If it helps any, I kind of, sort of, like you too.”

Snapping his head up, “What? You do?”

Nodding, “Yeah.” Giving Peter a sideways glance, she smiled. “I didn’t plan on it but you kind of crept up on me.”

Peter stared at [Y/N] with wide eyes and an open grin. He didn’t know what to say, all he wanted to do was do a happy dance and fist pump the air a few times but he knew that if he did that, it would be even more embarrassing than what Ned had just done.

Clearing his throat, Peter looked down at his hands. “What do we do now?”

Running her hands down her legs and then standing up, she motioned towards the books that laid sprawled on the floor. “Well, we should get back to studying-”

“-Lame!” Ned uttered as he walked into the room with his arms crossed.

[Y/N] gently rolled her eyes as she sat down on the floor. “Wanna let me finish, Ned?”

Annoyingly motioning her hands for her to do so, he huffed. Muttering some words under his breath about them being idiots for studying.

Turning to Peter, she smiled. “As I was saying, we should continue to study and once we both pass, then we can decide what we’re going to do for our first date.”

Peter smiled back, “Uh, yeah, definitely.”

What?!” Ned exclaimed. Running a hand through his hair, he rose a brow. “What is wrong with you guys. You two basically professed your love and you’re going to focus on school?” Shaking his head, he groaned. “No, you two should be practicing kissing not practicing who took over Poland.”

Peter and [Y/N] exchanged looks before saying at the same time, “Get out, Ned.” Both of them laughed as he huffed and puffed out of Peter’s room.

As their laughter quieted down and they started to get back into the groove of where they were before Ned interrupted them, Peter piped up. “I’m not opposed to the kissing thing…”

Looking up from her history textbook, she quirked a brow. “How about this, if you ace your history test, I’ll consider it.”

Peter chuckled, “Oh, I’ll ace it, alright.”


||| Part One ||| Part Two ||| Part Three |||

The Meeting of the Waters

pairing: lin-manuel miranda x reader

summary: lin buys a late 18th century piano during the writing process for hamilton, and when he gets it home, he’s surprised to find there’s a ghost attached to it. reader has been attached to her piano for hundreds of years, and is thrilled to talk about her good friend eliza hamilton with the genius who purchased her piano.

warnings: swearing, and i think that’s it idk do ghosts need to be tagged is that a thing

word count: 5,308

a/n: this is for the @hamwriters write-a-thon day one!!! AH okay i haven’t seen anyone write a ghost AU fic yet, so i don’t know how well received this will be BUT i really like it and i hope you guys do too (if u don’t pls be nice to me i’m fragile)


The lights of the George Washington Bridge glow in the distance, a stark contrast to the dark waters of the Hudson. Lin grunts as he pushes the piano up against the window of his studio apartment, leaning an arm on the top of the piano to peer out at the view.

“To be honest, the piano looked better against the wall,” you pipe up from your perch on the arm of the worn out leather sofa.

Lin spins around quickly, a startled look etched on his face. “Who’s in here?”

“Hi there,” you wave your hand, a small smirk on your face, before you stand. You smooth out your skirts and take a few steps toward him.

“Who are you and what are you doing in my apartment?” He takes a few quick steps backwards as you approach, his back colliding with the wall.

“Relax,” you hold up your hands in a show of benevolence. “I come with the piano.”

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Limbo (Derek/Stiles)

frostniskare “I bet I can make you scream my name.” Sterek

This is your fic prize for winning second place in my birthday giveaway! I really hope you enjoy where the muse took the prompt, as I’m sure it’s not in the direction you had in mind. Hopefully, you’ll like it anyway! For those who read my “Just Like Me” series, this fic could be considered a prequel in that verse. However, you do not need to have read that series to enjoy this! Fic #42 in my 2017 Prompt Challenge

 Limbo. Derek/Stiles. Teen. Also on AO3.

Stiles and his team are on an undercover stakeout that’s not going too well. Derek’s using his powers for good, but Stiles knows it’s not the right moment for their relationship to change. 

“I bet I can make you scream my name.” The words are accompanied by the thick stench of whiskey and good old-fashioned bad breath.

“Yeah, see, I’m not really feeling it so I’m gonna have to decline that bet.” Stiles scans the club looking for the potential suspect, trying to ignore the old pervert attempting to pick him up. He’s not interested, and he made it clear, so the guy should leave soon.

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BEST FRIENDS [CALUM]

masterlist

request here - i’m desperate for good ideas (requested)

summary things get tense once calum finds you and luke getting it on…

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Remember

Pairing: Dean x reader

Prompt; based off season 12 episode 11, Dean doesn’t remember a thing, but maybe it could be helpful to you

warnings: fluff, angst, language, spoilers

A/N: I hope you guys like it! This episode was so amazing and I just had to write a fic about it!

Tags: @winchester-writes, @faith-in-dean, @teamfreewill-imagine, @supernatural-jackles, @ellen-reincarnated1967, @for-the-love-of-dean, @shakeswilde

Originally posted by yourfavoritedirector

Originally posted by exist-in-mind


Of course! The one time you stay home and try to relax instead of hunting, something happens to one of the boys and you have to fix it. “So can you?’ Sam asked through the phone, pulling you out of your thoughts.

You sighed. “Fine,” you mumbled. “You guys are lucky that I love you.”

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little miss sweet dreams

[archie andrews x reader] [hints of jason blossom x reader]

author’s note: when the inspiration hits you, it feels like a freight train. but in a fit of irony, it’s not painful. it’s actually quite fulfilling. hope you like this!

word count: 12,061 (yes. i know.)

here’s the song i used for inspo. it’s my favorite song in general atm: x

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Headcanon: If the SLBP guys accidentally time travelled to the future (part 1)

A.N: A imagine from me XD I admit I am beyond bored in my class 😂😂😂

Tagging @jemchew , and @rainbowatnight (SURPRISE HOPE YOU FEEL BETTER

Will post part 2 with 4 other lords soon!)

~


Nobunaga

• You thought he would freak out

• seeing that he was in a wholly, different, weird, alienic world than his

• But

• “I demand you to show me this fortress of yours now.”

• Not only he is not freaking out; he has a smug look on

• “Excuse me?”

• “Is my orders that difficult to grasp you insolent woman?”

• “No, I meant why in hell should I even show you every corner of my house!” You snapped back

• “What, you dare defy my orders?”

• You groaned

• well you should show him who’s the big shot or that big head of his is going to get bigger

• “Yes, so?”

• Nobunaga widened his eyes.

• Did she, a lowly misbehaved insolent idiotic woman just spoke back at him?

• “Now, Mister Oda Nobunaga, three things you should know is-” You cleared your throat “First, I am the person who brought you in after you crashed on my roof so you have no right in hell to get rude at me. Second, you shall not call me INSOLENT. Third, I am the boss here and I make the rules. You overcross them, out. UNDERSTOOD?”

• Okay maybe he’d underestimated the people in this world.

• they sure had a short fused temper.

• “…understood.”

• Well he would go along for this once

• plainly because he isn’t familiar with this place.

• When he is

• You are going to get it from him.

• “So” you handed a broom, a mop and a bucket to him and he looked at you, puzzled.

• “Why are you giving me this-”

• “Did you expect me to clean the mess you made?” You gestured at the pile of debris from the broken roof.

• He glared at you

• “Woman, do you even know who I a-”

• “Oda Nobunaga, yes. So go clean up.”

• He stared at you

• and you gave him the finger before strutting away to your room in all your glory

• leaving him with a mop

• a broom

• a bucket

• a pile of debris

• and a raging feel to strangle you on sight.

• Forget about the whole get-it-from-him part

• he is going to kill you

Mitsuhide

• “What is this?”

• “Uh… a toaster?”

• He looked at you quizzically, finger still pointing at the recently identified object known as toaster.

• “What is it used for…?”

• “Uh…” you pondered “…for toasting bread..?”

• The question mime isn’t finished yet, though.

• “…may I ask how to operate it-”

Thought you’d never ask… you smirked to yourself.

• You eagerly grabbed two slices of bread and showed him how to use the toaster

• “See… when you hear a ‘ding’, it means the bread is already uh…. suitable for eating.”

• “Really? But…” He pointed at the pieces of brownish deliciously looking toast. “…they don’t look edible to me…”

• “Huh?” You looked at him mouth gaping and he gave you a apologetic look

• “It has…. quite a unpleasant colour… Mmph-!”

• You stuffed a slice of the ‘unpleasantly coloured’ bread into his mouth before he even get to finish his sentence and he gave you a look of shell shocked hesitation. You cheshire grinned up at him

• “Don’t knock it until you try it~~~”

• You winked at him playfully, and with a sigh

• *chomps*

• he bit into the crunchy brownish roasted grain and

• “!!!”

• Wow

• You thought to yourself

• this is the first time you saw a person, a real one, looking so… sparkly eyed by eating a toasted piece of plain bread

• His eyes could outshone a billion stars and power up every solar panel in Japan with their blinding realization of the taste of

• the legendary toast

• Yes

• That’s gotta be it

• “May I… have another piece?” He shyly (not shyly) raised his empty but crumb-filled hand in eagerness and embarrassment.

• You smiled at him and grabbed a loaf off the dining table

• “Sure!” You squeaked and he smiled back

• Moral value of the story

• no one could ever resist toast

• not even the legendary perfect af Mitsuhide.

• *evil cackle*

Yukimura

• “G-gaah….”

• You deadpanned

• “Yukimura… for God’s sake please stop staring at those girls they’d probably think you are a pervert-”

• “Bu-but… they… woman… dressed… legs…. GAH!!!!!” He shrieked hyper high pitched after blubbering a mess of jumbled words into a full (or maybe half) sentence to you, face redder than chillies

• You sighed

• maybe it was a bad idea bringing him with you

• But you just wanted to buy some clothes for him at the nearest shopping centre - he couldn’t go full on cosplay 24/7, absolutely no

• and

• he did said that…

*30 minutes ago*

• “I REFUSE TO LET A WOMAN WANDER ON THE STREETS ALONE AT NIGHT!!!!! As a man, it is my responsibility to protect you!”

• “But- ”

• “I won’t hear any of this! I’ll just tag along and you do your thing!” Yukimura straightened his back confidently

*present*

• …just like that

• but now you are not that certain who is the protector

• Who would know that Yukimura would be so terrified of women in skimpy miniskirts?

• “W-why do they… wear so… thin…”

• You looked at Yukimura who is turning pale-ish with scarlet tints to the ears

• …looks like you gotta get him outta here or the poor boy is going to combust

• “Yukimura, come here” You tugged on his arm forcefully, intending to lead him to a nearby department

• “GAH!!”

• You looked back at him, a huge question mark forming on your head

• “I- I can walk on my.. own…” Yukimura said, face darkened into a more prominent shade of scarlet than you thought possible, prying his arm away from yours and walked awkwardly towards a store.

• “Yukimura,”

• He almost jumped at the mention of his name

• “Y-yes!”

• “The clothing department’s this way”

• “O-oh… ok.”

• You almost laughed but you pinched yourself to hide it

• what a flustered cinnamon he is

Saizo

• “….little lady…”

• “What is it Saizo” you called out, hands fumbling over some stray pins and rubber bands on your hair

• “Your device is singing”

• Saizo spoke, monotone as always

• “Just ignore it” You said, holding a pin with your mouth due to your already full hands “-oh wait, can you tell me the words on my phone?”

• Saizo glanced at the black device that had just sprinted bright with life and music “Mom.”

• “Ogh mom..” You mumbled, hairpin still between your teeth when it dawned on you

• “WAIT MOM?!!!”

• There was a violent thud, some crashing

• “GIVE IT TO ME! QUICK!! FAST!!!”

• You sprinted towards Saizo, grabbed the phone from his hands and received the call

• “Hello? Mom??” you tucked a hand in your disheveled hair

• Saizo looked at you indifferently, watching your face gradually becoming pale

• “NO….! MOM NO…! Don’t come please I am not ready how many times had I told you I DONT HAVE A BOYFRIEND IT IS TRUE THAN THE FACT YOU ARE MY MOTHER”

• well Saizo had a hunch that things are going to be entertaining in a sense

• “MOM…! NO-” you paused your yelling, and stared in disbelief at your phone

• She had hung up on you

• she is coming

• right now

• and

• You looked at Saizo

• “MY MOM IS COMING PLEASE SAIZO DO ME A FAVOR AND PLEASE HIDE ITS A EMERGENCY HELP ME PLEASE!!!”

• as expected, Saizo merely shrugged

• “Why should I?”

• You groaned

• “Please…. HELP… or if she sees you you and me are going to die”

• He raised a eyebrow, clearly amused “and why is that?”

• You almost pulled out your hair

• “Saizo, I AM SERIOUS. If she sees you… then… you are going to…”

• “What?”

• “become… my… boyfriend… or let’s just say… fiance… because my mom came to keep an eye on me and… she is kinda… anxious in marrying me to any guy…”

• Now it was his turn to look at you

• “No.”

• “EXACTLY, SO PLEASE COOPERATE WITH ME AND SAVE OUR ASSES” You cried out

• “I don’t-” Saizo’s speech was interrupted by a roar that suspiciously sounded like a engine from your lawn and you spotted a suspiciously familiar looking car just outside….

• “I DONT CARE ANYMORE YOU ARE GOING WITH ME!” you screamed, grabbed his hand

• pushed him in a closet, and locked it

• The door popped open and out came your mom

• “DARLINGGGG how are you lately!!!”

•You sweatdropped at the sight of her imposing image and Saizo’s attempts to get out of the locked closet

• “Uh… just fine mom!” you piped up when you hear a loud thump from the closet behind you

• “Um sweetie what was that?”

• You gave a good kick to the closet beside you

• “NOTHING MOM.”

We Sang Along To The Start of Forever

*click thru to read on ao3

written by: Emily | @prosciuttoe

prompt: ‘i’m a prince/ss from a small country nobody’s heard of and i’m in college pretending not to be royal and you’re another student who’s always calling me out on my bs’ for anonymous

word count: 7973

Going to college is one of those things that Clarke has been preparing for her entire life. She has to really, considering that an extensive amount of research and preparation is required when you’re the Princess of a dated and stupidly antiquated form of government.

(Granted, the extent of her research only goes as far as to adding The Princess Diaries to her Netflix queue, but technicalities.)

Or: Clarke’s college experience would be a lot more pleasant if Bellamy Blake stopped trying to figure her out.


Excerpt:

Going to college is one of those things that Clarke has been preparing for her entire life. She has to really, considering that an extensive amount of research and preparation is required when you’re the Princess of a dated and stupidly antiquated form of government.

(Granted, the extent of her research only goes as far as to adding The Princess Diaries to her Netflix queue, but technicalities. )

Still, none of it could have prepared her for Bellamy Blake.

The first time she meets him, he’s arguing with the professor about the required reading list.

It’s not like she means to listen in on their conversation, but he’s one of those people that you can’t help but notice—all bronzed skin and muscles and artfully mussed hair. Coupled with the way he’s furiously gesticulating with his hands and the frazzled expression on his face, and, well. She’ll admit that she’s sufficiently intrigued.

“This is a Politics and Literature course, Mr. Blake,” the professor huffs, exasperated. “The whole point of the course involves looking at how fiction helps understand and express politics.”

The guy— last name Blake, Clarke reminds herself— looks distinctly put out by that. “And I don’t have a problem with that,” he points out, folding his arms across his chest. “What I do have a problem with is how all the books on the reading list are drawn from the same historical and cultural setting.”

A quick glance at the syllabus confirms it, but —

“Actually,” she pipes up, tapping at the sheet before her, “The White Tiger is set in India, so…”

He turns the full-force of his glare on her, then, brow arched. “It’s one novel on a list of twelve,” he says, dismissive. “That’s hardly enough.”

I agree, she doesn’t get to say, before he’s sweeping his gaze over her — disdain clear as he takes in the MacBook perched on her lap, to the watch strapped to her wrist, and all the way down to her newly polished shoes.

“I wouldn’t expect you to understand, Princess,” he says, venomous, and she can practically feel her hackles rising in response.

Bristling, she opens her mouth, a retort already forming on her tongue, when she receives a swift kick to the ankle, startling her enough that she squeaks instead.

Scowling, she shifts her gaze over to Roan. A bodyguard had been one of the stipulated conditions to this whole arrangement, and he’d been her pick mostly because she’s gotten used to his hulking presence over the years. There’s also the added bonus factor of his notorious unflappability and calm even in the most trying of situations—which explains why he’s currently regarding her with nothing but an arched brow and a pointed widening of his eyes; a wordless reminder of the need to be inconspicuous. Or at least subtle enough to not bring attention to herself (and by extension, her status) on the first day of school.

Slumping over in her seat, she relents, hiding her glower behind a curtain of hair.

It doesn’t seem to placate Blake all that much, if the irritated half-snort he gives is any indication. Still, he skulks back to his seat, plopping down in the chair directly behind hers.

The first half an hour of class passes by without issue, and she finds herself relaxing halfway through, against her better judgment, focusing on the lecture itself and jotting down notes during the lulls. Her gaze drifts on over to Blake, from time to time, but only because he’s one of the few seated within her vicinity. His handwriting is a angry scrawl, and she thinks she catches a glimpse of a B in his first name as well. When he’s not scribbling out notes or shooting everyone else dirty looks, he’s chewing on the cap of his pen, fingers tapping out a distracting rhythm on the tabletop.

He catches her gaze soon after, and she flushes at the realization that he caught her staring.

“What?” she challenges, before he can get a word out. “You have something to say to me?”

“Not really,” he smirks, his gaze roving over her once more, lingering at the ID badge she has slung over her neck. “So. You’re a freshman.”

It’s a statement rather than a question, but she nods anyway.

“Wow,” he drawls. There’s a kind of smugness to it that suggests that he’s gotten exactly what he wanted from her affirmation alone, and it makes her want to do questionable things, like stomp on his foot. “That’s pretty impressive, considering how this course has a required class standing that I’m sure a freshman like yourself has yet to fulfill.”

It’s difficult to keep her surprise from showing at that, and she has to bite at her lip to keep from gaping. Shit. It’s certainly not unexpected, though, considering her mother’s influence, and Clarke had only skimmed through the course catalogue before picking out the courses that appealed to her most. Taking a deep breath, she shoots him a tight smile, praying that it comes off convincing. “Well, I guess I had enough transferral credits.”

You’re a transfer?” he scoffs, narrowing his eyes over at her. “Where from?”

She blinks, her gaze landing on Roan for a split-second. “Mecha,” she says smoothly, the lie coming easy. “But I was looking for a change in scenery, so.”

“You transferred from Mecha,” he says, dubious, “to Ark U?”

“That’s right,” she says, jutting her chin out defiantly. “Like I said, I needed a change.”

He mulls over that, his expression contemplative. Then, with a half-hearted shrug of his shoulders, he says, “You know, you could have just admitted that you’re a trust fund kid and I would have let it go, right?”

This time, she can’t quite hold back on her offended gasp. “What?

“Wait, I think I got it,” he continues, his voice taking on a mocking edge. “You have a parent on the college admissions board.”

“No!”

“So, they made a sizable donation to the school and I’m going to see a—” he pauses, squinting over at her ID, “—Clarke Griffin wing in a few months, right? Arts or Sciences, you think?”

Neither,” she hisses, seething. Vaguely, she’s aware that everyone else is getting up from their seats, the rising noise level signalling that class is over. “God, I don’t even know why I’m still standing here trying to justify myself to you, when—”

“Bellamy!”

The voice snags at her attention, and she turns away from him to look at the source of the intrusion. She’s pretty, Clarke thinks, with startling green eyes, a sharp jaw and hair trailing down to her back, and it doesn’t occur to her that it’s Blake she’s referring to until he says, “I’ll be there in a minute, O.”

Well. At least she finally can put a name to the face.


continue reading on ao3

Privileged (17/?)

Originally posted by octaviablakes

“*yn* and her four friends plus Murphy continue on their journey to find and save the rest of the delinquents. When they lose one of their own, tensions between *yn* and Finn reach boiling point. *yn* reunites with one of her closest friends.” 

Warnings: death, violence, swearing, fluff, slight angst 

Notes: Based on 2x04 “Many Happy Returns” of The 100.

Series Masterlist


“How do we even know if this map is right?” Murphy piped up. 

“I’m just saying, we’ve been walking for two days and there’s no sign of them.” He continued when his question was met with silence.

“Just be quiet Murphy.” Monroe snapped irritably before *yn* could even open her mouth to tell him off. The group had lost what little spirit that they originally had a long time ago, around the time that Murphy had begun to complain every hour like clock work to be precise. 

“I’m just making the point-”

“Shut up.” *yn* cut him off as she came to a sudden halt and jerked her head around. “Oh what now-”

“Shh.” She snapped, shooting him a silencing glare before turning her attention back to her surroundings. The rest of the group came to a halt and they once again fell into a tense silence, all of them shooting *yn* confused glances.

“Do you hear that?” She murmured quietly. The rest of them strained their ears at her words. There was a pause when nothing but birds chirping entered their ears until they all heard something coming up ahead. 

Buzzing. 

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House of Cards | kth v. jjk | [1]

Originally posted by pangguk

House of Cards  

The Prologue | Chapter 1  | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3

Subtitle: V for Valiant  

Characters: Taehyung x Reader x Jungkook  

Categories: Fluff, Angst

AU(s):College!AU, Stalker!AU, Best Friends!AU

• ° °•○•° °•○•° °•○•° °•○• ° °•○•° °• 

Some people see life in black and white;

And others see it in brown and blue, 

but Kim Taehyung only sees it in red and you.

Hues of orange and brown glinted against the gray of the pavement as you made your way to your Seoul University dorm.  The soft crunch of leaves under your feet left you giddy while you beam over to your not-as-excited best friend, Jeon Jungkook took the box from your hands. A soft scoff escapes his lips as he observes your cheerful attitude.  

“You’re going to drop everything if you continue to act like that,” He chuckles softly before patting your head. The curves of his lips meet  

“Are you sure that you don’t want to just live together?” Jungkook suggested as he dropped your box onto the floor of your Seoul University dorm. His hair fell over his eyes as he stretched to work the kinks out of his back.  

 "Jungkook, we hang out pretty much every day all day. Don’t you think living together would be a bit much?“ You asked while carrying the box with all of your school items from over the years.  

At your response, Jungkook rolled his eyes, “Well excuse me for trying to get closer to my best friend.” He took the box from your hands and set it down beside your bed. “-and besides, can you blame me? I don’t want to live with any more guys. My brother ruined it for me.”  

“Jeon Jungkook,” You placed your hands on his shoulders. “I don’t know if you realize this or not with the questionable amount of  girl group dances you do, but you are a guy.” You stated matter of factly.  

Jungkook shrugged your hands off his shoulders. “Ha, ha, you’re so funny.” He rolled his eyes again before raising his brows. “I almost forgot, I got you something.”  

“Jungkook, you didn’t have to-”  

“I wanted to. Now close your eyes and turn around.” Jungkook shushes you once he swings you around and moved your hair from your shoulders.  

You shiver from the cold material against your neck before opening your eyes. “Jungkook-” You cry to the ravenette who stands behind you, smirking that smug look that you publicly chastised but secretly adored.  

“I wanted to get you something for coming to Seoul with me. You didn’t have to come but you did and-”  

Jungkook was caught off by a high pitched squeal. “Are you, Y/N? I’m Hyejin, your roommate.” A pretty brunette girl came into your vision once you turned around to face you.  

“Hi, I’m Y/N. It’s nice to meet you.” You smiled at her softly, holding your hand out. What first caught your eye was a shimmer from her wrist, a charm bracelet, caught your eyes at once. A calligraphic ‘H’ adorned the center charm.

Hyejin’s eyes traveled over to Jungkook, who gaped at her almost. “And who’s this pretty boy?” She tilted her head to send him a smile.  

“Jeon, Jeon Jungkook, my idiot best friend since diapers.” You laugh as Jungkook glared at you before winking back at her. “Careful, don’t let his pretty boy looks fool you.”  

Hyejin nodded at Jungkook before a calm, low voice filled your ears. “Hey, jagiya, where do I put this?” Your brows furrowed at the sound of the voice. A blonde headed boy wearing a black t-shirt and ripped jeans came into sight wearing glasses. Once his eyes fell on you, his blood ran cold. His throat became the Saharan desert and his hands visibly trembled.  

Aish, aish, aish, the word ran through Taehyung’s mind like a mantra when his eyes fell on yours.  

“You can put over there. Y/N, Jungkook, this is my boyfriend, Hansung.” Hyejin grinned before turning to show Taehyung where to place the box who had not taken his eyes off of you since he walked in. “Don’t mind him, he’s just a little shy, that’s all.”  

Jungkook noticed the change in the boy with raised brows. Instinctively, Jungkook placed his hand on the small of your back. Something was off about this boy, Jungkook told himself. “Hansung?” Where had Jungkook heard that name before?  

You attempted to discreetly nudge Jungkook at his rude actions but Taehyung saw. He saw everything. “Well, it’s nice to meet you, Hansung.” You piped up before moving Jungkook’s hand from your waist. “After you guys are done unloading, do you want to maybe grab a bite to eat?”  

Hyejin smiled softly as if to say yes before she turned to a flushed looking Taehyung. Her eyes narrowed at him, confused at why he was acting like this all of a sudden. “I think we’ll pass, we have a lot to unpacking to do but thanks for asking.”  

“Cool, no worries.” You smiled before turning back to Jungkook. “Let’s go, Busan.” You patted him on the back and pushed him out of the dorm slowly. “See you guys later!” You called out before closing the door behind you to the dorm. You sighed to yourself as you turned to look at Jungkook’s questioning look. “What is it?”  

“I don’t know, something seemed a bit off about him.” Jungkook visibly shrugged it off. “Just let me know if he ever messes with you, okay?”  

Following suit, you walked beside Jungkook with a grimace. “Jungkook, we aren’t kids anymore. You don’t have to protect me against every member of the opposite sex. Besides, he’s probably just really shy and he has a girlfriend. What would he want with me?”

“I don’t know if you know this, Y/N,” He states, mimicking you earlier by stopping you in front of your dorm house and placing his hands on your shoulders. You find yourself shivering not because of him (at least that’s what you told yourself) and from the warm breeze that hit you. “-but you’re a beautiful girl. You’re smart too. Any guy would be lucky to have you.” The look in his mocha brown eyes leave you in a trance almost from his sweet words. Though you know not to take his words to heart, he had been saying this for years after all.  

“Stop it, Jungkook,” You say with a small laugh to lighten the mood and move his hands from your shoulders. “Let’s go eat, okay?”  

Unbeknownst to you, Taehyung sat on Hyejin’s bed with a horrified look on his face. Had it really been you? For years, Taehyung had adored you from a far and to see you so close, and be able to have you talk to him… Oh, what joy he was supposed to feel! Though the very idea of you being so close to him irked him. It irked him even more so than Jungkook always being by your side like a ’d’ on a dime. You were too pure for him, he had convinced himself of this, and he hoped that you would forgive him for getting so close.  Beings as fair as you could never be tainted with someone like Taehyung. It simply wasn’t right. This was the common idea that Taehyung used to reassure himself of his actions.

“Aish, how could I be so selfish?” Taehyung chastised himself while he held his head in hands. You would have to forgive him, wouldn’t you? If he could not make you forgive him, he would just persuade you somehow. He had noticed the pitiful necklace that Jungkook had bought you. Surely, he thought to himself, you deserve something much better.  

Hyejin returned to Taehyung’s side with a smile. “Is something wrong, babe?” She tried to comfort him. Her brown hair fell over her eyes as she sent him a small smile in efforts to reassure him.  

“Why didn’t you tell me you weren’t alone?” Taehyung whimpered while rubbing his face. He hadn’t told Hyejin about his true intentions and knew that he would have to keep his emotions together if he wanted to spend as much time with you as he could. “You know I’m awkward around new people.” Taehyung quickly adds to cover his tracks.  

Hyejin pouted her lips in response to her boyfriend. “I forgot, babe. I’m sorry.” She pressed her lips against his cheeks and Taehyung had to suppress the shiver that wrought through him.  

“No, no, it’s fine.” Taehyung smiles sweetly at Hyejin in attempt to appease her. “I overreacted… I just happen to do that some times.” His smile was false, just as it always was. On the inside, every emotion within him tore him limb from limb. The mere thought of you could leave him paralyzed – but you in the same room as him? In such a small vicinity? What more could he do to distance himself without losing the small grasp he (thought) he had on you?  

Taehyung walked home in a daze that night; swollen eyes and swollen lips were a result from one too many drinks at the bar and he secretly wished that he would have taken up Hyejin’s offer of staying in the dorms with Jungkook, her, and you. Taehyung could still remember the suspicious look in Jungkook’s eyes as the younger boy watched the older turn down a night with his girlfriend. Images of the younger boy and you flooded his mind and he found himself stumbling against the brick wall of his neighbor’s home.  

“It’s okay, it’s okay, it’s okay,” Taehyung repeated to himself as he curled his left hand over his ear; his eyes drooping before he closed them in bliss once his mind painted the perfect picture of you. A sigh emits from him as he plays his right hand over his stomach. “You’ll remember me,” his voice was barely above a whisper. “just like you promised, my Y/n.”

• ° °•○•° °•○•° °•○•° °•○• ° °•○•° °•

3 times simon flirts with jace in serious situations + 1 time jace gives it a try

I.

“Sorry. I know it’s kind of messy.” Jace murmurs as he pushes the door to his room open and leads Simon inside. He normally doesn’t invite people inside his personal quarters, but if he has to see Simon covered in blood for another second he’s going to lose it.

Simon looks around with an arched brow. “Messy? Dude there’s like, two shirts on the ground and some empty water bottles. You should see my room, the floor is covered entirely by like eight feet of clothes.”

“I have seen your room.” Jace reminds him. “When you–”

It’s stupid that he can’t finish the sentence, but he can’t. The word “died” burns his throat and it just feels wrong to say for some reason, like when he was younger and he cursed to act tough around Alec even though guilt burned in his stomach.

Simon seems to pick up on his hesitance and, thankfully, doesn’t continue the conversation. Instead he points at the door to their left in question, and Jace nods.

“I’ll try not to use up your expensive shampoo and conditioner.” Simon promises as he heads into the bathroom.

Jace can’t muster up the strength to quip back. He lays back on his bed and stares up at the ceiling while the sound of the shower drowns out some of the noise from downstairs. He should probably be down there, but Magnus told him to take some time away from all the bodies and he’d quickly accepted that instruction. He feels like a sham, running away from the people he killed while the people most affected clean up his mess.

Jace just wants it to be over. He wants to be years away, or lives away. He wants to be reborn as a mundane whose problems don’t go beyond things like family drama and relationships. Boys his age are supposed to be in college, drinking and partying and flirting. Not killing people accidentally because their evil dad tricked them into touching a magical death sword.

The running water stops abruptly after ten minutes and Simon emerges again, now clean and free of blood. He has a towel wrapped around his waist and Jace realizes that he never gave the guy any clothes, so he rustles through his closet while Simon stands frozen near the door, probably wondering how he’s ended up naked in Jace’s room.

“Here.” Jace throws him grey sweatpants and a green shirt, which Simon appears puzzled over.

“Have you ever worn this?” He asks. “Have you ever worn any color at all?”

“I was saving that shirt for the event that you might need to wear my clothes. Black isn’t your color.” Jace responds and he’s supposed to be sulking, goddamn it, but he can’t help it. Teasing Simon is like blinking or breathing. An involuntary function.

Simon briefly enters the bathroom again to change and then pauses in front of the mirror that hangs over Jace’s dresser, staring at his own reflection solemnly.

Jace is about to make a joke about vampires and mirrors but Simon beats him with a quiet question.

“Is it ugly?”

Jace shakes his head immediately. “It’s badass. Really wicked. I’ll teach you how to use it to pick up girls.”

“Not really on my radar at the moment.” Simon dismisses. Jace watches him trace his finger over the long silver scar that stretches from one side of his neck to the other, which will probably be almost entirely invisible once he has enough time to recover and replenish his blood. According to Magnus.

“Did it hurt?” Jace asks, which is a stupid question. The smirk on Simon’s face is proof that it was a stupid question.

“When I fell from heaven?” Simon finishes, and Jace has to swallow the laugh that’s trying to surface. He knows it’s fucked up, because there’s so much death and misery downstairs. But upstairs it’s just him and Simon, who has the most amused grin on his face.

So everything’s okay upstairs.


II.


Alec is genuinely about to murder someone, and Jace doesn’t blame him.

“I swear, we’ll find who’s doing this.” He declares with the blaze of righteous justice in his hazel eyes. Magnus is looking up at him from where he’s seated with a mix of admiration and sympathy. He reaches up and tugs weakly at Alec’s shirt to get his attention.

“Whoever’s doing this hired a warlock. And the warlock is probably long gone.” Magnus explains. “You won’t be able to find which Shadowhunter is doing this out of everyone in the Institute. It’s the needle in the haystack, darling.”

“But it’s terrible.” Alec insists. “Putting a ward up that makes Downworlders sick when we’re on lockdown? You guys can’t even leave to feel better! I’m going to find them–”

“Alec.” Luke says, putting up a placating hand. “It’ll wear off in a few hours. Until then we’ll just wait it out, alright? No need to kill anyone.”

Knowing his brother, Jace is surprised that Alec manages to actually calm himself down. Maybe it’s the effect of seeing Magnus and Luke, two seemingly invincible people, weak and sick from the effects of the ward that’s currently enclosing the Institute.

“Okay.” Alec finally agrees, crouching down beside his boyfriend, who leans into him immediately. It’s unsettling seeing Magnus look so pale and exhausted, and the smudged make-up on his cheek is so out of place that Jace feels the urge to wipe it off for him. “I’ll take you to bed.”

As soon as Magnus nods, Alec scoops him up entirely and starts off in the direction of the elevator, his boyfriend carried bridal style against his chest. Clary helps Luke to her room and then it’s just Jace and Isabelle, who share a look with each other.

“I’ll be valiant and get Simon.” Jace offers. “Because I don’t want to owe you.”

“You bet your ass you don’t want to owe me.”

He finds Simon looking miserable and exhausted in the library. He’s sitting in one of the overstuffed, comfortable-looking but not actually comfortable armchairs. He looks the same way Magnus and Luke looked: tired and sick.

“Time for bed.” Jace announces, swiftly grabbing Simon by his shirt sleeve and hauling him into an upright position. Simon looks up at Jace as if he’s seeing someone from a parallel universe, his eyes wide and astonished.

“Huh?”

“Some asshole put a ward up. You’re feeling sick because of that, so are Magnus and Luke. There’s no point in suffering through it, might as well sleep it off.”

“But I don’t have a room here.”

Jace rolls his eyes. Does Simon think Jace came all the way down here just to tell him he has to sleep on the floor? “You’re lucky I live here, then.”

He drags Simon through the halls and into the elevator, where Simon slumps heavily into the wall and doesn’t even bother to make a snappy comment, which is further proof of how awful he feels. Jace guides him into his bedroom and peels back his blankets, watching Simon make himself comfortable.

“You’ve gotta stop inviting me up to your room.” Simon mumbles sleepily as Jace pulls his armchair up beside the bed and takes a seat, reaching for the book he’s halfway through. “What book is that?”

“The Song of Achilles.” Jace responds, showing Simon the cover. “I’ve read it before. I re-read the beginning, sometimes I skip the end. It’s too sad.”

“Then why do you keep reading it?” Simon asks, looking up at Jace with sleepy eyes. He looks kind of adorable, and Jace is glad that he took care of this rather than letting Isabelle do it.

“Because I guess…I guess I always think maybe it’ll be different this time. Like maybe he’ll save Patroclus. Just because he didn’t do it the first time doesn’t mean he can’t figure it out eventually.”

Simon sits up, supporting himself with his elbow. “Books don’t change.”

“Real life does.”

Simon stares at Jace for a few moments. He seems to be thinking it over, trying to figure out what Jace means. Jace doesn’t even know what he means, but it’s the only way he knows how to express the conundrum. The story of Achilles and Patroclus never stuck with Jace before, but recently he’s been thinking about it a lot.

He snaps out of his musings when he notices the light flush over Simon’s nose and cheeks. Jace leans forward to press a hand lightly to Simon’s forehead and he frowns.

“You’re hot.”

Simon’s smile is instantaneous and Jace immediately realizes his mistake, but it’s too late.

“You’re not too bad yourself.”

“Oh my God. Go to sleep.”


III.


“Alright.” Isabelle runs her hands together and looks absolutely deadly. The shine in her eyes is like the reflection of light from a blade, beautiful but clearly lethal. Her wip is in her hands and her fingers carefully stroke it, delicate with the leather. “I’m taking Clary. Boys, you go everywhere below 14th street and we’ll meet up later.”

“I don’t understand why you get to choose pairs now that you and Clary are dating.” Alec complains, and it’s a little obvious to everyone that he’s more than a little jealous of Clary taking up his brother-sister bonding time.

“When Simon and Jace start dating, I’m sure they’ll do the same thing.” Clary offers in consolation. Jace looks over at Simon, who winks. Alec looks up at the sky, probably praying Magnus will make a sudden guest appearance.

They walk in the direction of their first target, Alec walking a few paces ahead while he chats on the phone with Magnus. It’s as if he’s taking a relaxed stroll through Central Park, not heading toward a demon infestation.

“So uh, what’s the plan?” Simon pipes up. “I know you guys don’t always do plans, but while we have this convenient extra time I figure it wouldn’t hurt. Not that I’m worried or anything, but you guys can still die so I’m just looking out for you–”

“Shush.” Alec says, but there’s no menace in his tone. He’s grown to like Simon, whether he’ll admit it or not. “Jace, make a plan.”

“Just wait for the right moment.” Jace says with a shrug. “And then attack. You’ll know it when you see it.”

“Right, right, cool.” Simon nods. “But what if I don’t?”

“You will.”

Simon does not. It’s fascinating, actually, how oblivious he is to dangerous situations. Jace supposes he can’t blame Simon, because Simon hasn’t been learning this his whole life like Jace has. He’s been playing D&D, sure, but it doesn’t count.

So when there’s a demon advancing rapidly toward Jace and Simon, who has a great vantage point from the top of the fire escape he’d scrambled up to avoid getting bitten, fails to realize what he has to do, Jace is forced to yell out instruction.

“Simon!” He hollers to get attention. “Go down on it!”

Without hesitation, Simon jumps over the railing and lands squarely on the demon that’s now only held away from Jace by a few inches on his blade. There’s a few seconds of struggle before the gnashing teeth near Jace’s face disintegrate into black ash, and Simon looks up from where he’s crouched in the middle of it.

There’s ash in his hair, ichor on his clothes, and a bright smile on his face.

“Want me to go down on you next?”

Jace has to physically force himself to look away and jump into the next attack. Goddamn it.


+I


“Okay. Don’t panic. It’s fine.”

“I don’t think it’s fine. This is right out of The Walking Dead or some shit, Jace, oh my g–, do you think they can pry the door open?”

Jace hits the lock button on the driver’s side door, but nothing happens. Figures the car they chose to hide in during a demon horde passing was a lemon. It was just their luck.

“They can’t pry the doors open.” Jace announces. “They don’t know we’re in here. They can’t see us, so we’re not here.”

“Great. Great. This is just…”

“Great?” Jace finishes. He feels bad for Simon because he knows about his anxiety, about his panic attacks, about how both of those things are more likely to become a problem the longer the demons are outside the car. He looks around for something to distract Simon but comes up empty.

“Hey, I read a book I think you’d like.” Simon says abruptly. He sounds strange, like he’s reciting lines in a play. He’s forcing himself to calm down, Jace realizes. So he plays along and says his line.

“Oh yeah? What is it?”

“The Five People You Meet In Heaven.” Simon responds. “It’s sad, too, but it’s kinda about what you were saying the other day. About getting second chances and having different endings and stuff. It’s–it’s really good. You could have my copy.”

A thought forms in Jace’s head and his lips move before he can stop himself.

“You don’t have a copy from the library?”

Simon looks over, confused. “What? No. I wouldn’t lend it to you if it was from the library.”

“Well–well you should come to the library. With me. So that we–so that I could check you out.”

There’s a brief silence during which Jace considers opening the car door and letting the demons have him for dinner, but Simon’s sudden bursting laugh halts any and all thoughts.

“Dude.” Simon heaves between laughs, wiping at his eyes. “Oh, Jace, that was so bad. Oh man, oh Jace. Oh no.”

“It wasn’t that bad!”

“It was!” Simon wipes at his eyes again.

“Stop that! Your eyes aren’t even watering.”

“They are!” Simon snatches Jace’s hand and pulls it over to his face, forcing Jace to realize that okay, fine, his eyes are watering just a little. But they shouldn’t be, because it wasn’t that funny, and Jace slowly begins to realize that his hand is still resting on the side of Simon’s face and it’s not moving, and Simon isn’t making it move, and they’re staring at each other and leaning in and then,

“Oh.” Jace gasps after kissing for what had to be five minutes. “Wow.”

“Good thing you’re better at kissing than flirting.” Simon laughs, and Jace’s lips burn to be back where they just were.

“Hey. You’ve been flirting with me for weeks, but the very first time I flirt with you…” Jace presses a short kiss to Simon’s lips again. “This happens.”

“I just did it to shut you up.”

{ kiss me quick }

pairing: alexander x reader

prompt: “Could I request an A.Ham x reader where they have a flirtationship and the hamilsquad teases them for it so they kiss to prove a point (but realize they really do love each other) and you can take it from there BUT LOTS OF FLUFF PLEASE”


You knocked on the door to the boys’ loft, smiling widely as you heard the locks click and eventually, the door swung open. 

“Mon petit lion, your girlfriend is here.” Laf teased, pulling you into a hug when you walked in. You rolled your eyes, but hugged him back nonetheless, happy to see the Frenchman. “Be on your best behavior, now.” 

Keep reading

My Uptown Girl *Jughead Jones x Reader*

Originally posted by betty-and-jughead

Originally posted by chaneloberlinvevo

Summary: Based off the lyrics of Billy Joel’s song Uptown Girl

Pairings Jughead x Reader


You walked around Riverdale High with a certain grace, an almost happy bounce in each of your steps. No one could mistake your smile; it always present, from the beginning of the day to the end, in fact, it got bigger on some days.

You are everything Jughead Jones The Third isn’t. You are happy, wholesome and sweet, caring and good. You came from a well-to-do family, wealthy and snobby, yet you weren’t like your parents. You were nice to everyone you met, you are the popular girl without the hateful stigma behind it. Despite that you weren’t allowed to hang around with any old riff-raff, your parents set standards or guidelines and even managed who your friends were, for obvious reasons Cheryl is your closest friend.

Jughead was no exception of the love everyone had for you; Riverdale’s sweetheart. He fell for you like many other guys, he didn’t want to, but it happened over time. You somehow wormed your way into his heart. He set up this demeanour that he was brooding, unable to receive let alone give love to someone, and from the moment you came back from spring break he knew he was in trouble.

If people knew he even had a crush on you everything he built up would be gone. His ‘tough’ exterior would be gone because of you!

“You’re staring at her again,” Archie’s voice sounded from behind Jughead; the beanie wearing boy jumped, slightly glaring over his shoulder at the red-head. “Why don’t you just go over and ask her out?”

Jughead scoffed and went back to watching you, like a creep, he knew that. “I can’t, you wouldn’t understand!” He pushed off the wall of lockers, turning to look at Archie who was searching through his own.

“What’s to understand?” Jughead rolled his eyes, “Seriously, I don’t get it.”

“We’re two different people, Archie.” Archie rolled his dark eyes, “She’s from the uptown, where the rich live and I’m… well, let’s just say my family isn’t exactly respected. Y/N, she’s-”

“-Nice?” Archie cut off. “She isn’t interested in anyone’s home or family line, you know that. In fact, if anyone is able to entice her it’s you,” his friend smiled and patted his shoulder.

Jug sighed, “She’s never had a boyfriend, let alone a guy like me ask her out. She’s living in this clean bubble, she shouldn’t get involved with someone like me.” Jughead shrugged, slipping his hands into his jacket pockets as Archie shuts his locker.

“You’re so dramatic,” Archie exhaled, “if she doesn’t know you like her, then she doesn’t have the choice of dating someone like you. Who by the way, is a decent guy and intelligent, with a twisted sense of humour but is a loyal friend.”

Before Jughead can sarcastically wit his friend, the rest of the scooby gang shows up. “Whoever is writing Archie’s speeches; I need their number.” Veronica grinned, standing between the two boys with Kevin at her left and Betty to her right. “What locker conversations are you two having?”

Jughead gives a look to Archie, who completely misses it. “Talking about Jug’s crush,” that makes Veronica’s eyes go wide and look at the glaring teen. “Yeah, on Y/N, I told him to go over and talk to her but apparently Jug here is living on social platforms now.” Archie shrugged at his best friend’s glare.

“Juggie, you are so in Y/N league.” Betty comforts to which Jughead scoffs at his friend, who gives him a challenging look.

“Actually,” Kevin pipes up, “I heard Y/N is growing tired of her high-class toys and all the attention from the uptown boys.” He shrugs as Jug frowns, “What I’m saying is, maybe, you’ve got a slim chance if she’s willing to make a choice for a guy of such… standards as yourself.” Jug gives a mock smile to Keller who doesn’t seem fazed.

Veronica smiles, “See, you have a chance. Betty was right, Kevin has the inside scoop and Archiekins gave you the pep talk,” Jughead raised his eyebrows. “And I’m threatening you, if you don’t go over there and talk to her, I’ll personally cut up that precious beanie of yours!” Jug sighed and nodded, making the raven-haired girl clap as he trudges over to you.

He glares over his shoulder as he friends all huddled together, watching from afar. As he walks over to you, he watches as you bring out various different school books from your locker, tucking a lock of you (Y/H/C) behind your ear, smiling as Jug stops a little short of you. It’s silent for a moment as Jughead thinks of what to say, only you beat him to it.

“Jones, what do I owe the pleasure?” You grin, moving the three textbooks to be cradled in your left arm as you shut your locker, your white cardigan delicately hanging off your shoulders. “I heard your writing for the Blue and Gold with Cooper, am I being interviewed because I campaigned for more vegetarian options?” He chuckled at that, shaking his head.

“Actually, no, not about your recent campaign.” You chuckled and nodded, “I just…” He stopped and studied you for a moment, he really liked you, truly he did. But he couldn’t compare to the guys wanting you also, the guys who could offer to give you the nice things you’re wearing. He didn’t care if he embarrassed himself with the potential rejection, he couldn’t live with himself if the entire school, town, mocked you for having him as your boyfriend. “Wondered… did we get any Science homework?”

You let out a little sigh, a small frown coming upon your face that he watched quickly get concealed by another bright smile. “Yeah, we got Chem, want me to give you notes?”

“Uh, no, it’s fine… I’ll ask Betty,” you nodded and watched him waiting for something else to be said but it wasn’t. He just nodded and stalked down the hallway, head bowed and shoulders tensed as he turned a corner, you frowned at his odd behaviour; he wasn’t any different from the usual, although, he never asked you about homework.

Shrugging, turning and bumping into Veronica Lodge, you smiled an apology. “Hey, Y/N, what was Jughead just talking to you about?” You frowned a little, why did Veronica wanna know that?

“Uh, asking if we had any science homework… why?”

Veronica let out a frustrated sigh, “That idiot. He’s not so tough,” you were frowning more by the minute as she talked, “and you’re more oblivious than I thought you’d be!”

“Excuse me?” You asked, “I don’t know what you’re talking about, I am not oblivious, Jughead just wanted to know an answer to a simple question.”

“That he could have gotten from Betty,” you snapped your mouth shut, “He’ll hate me for spilling his well-kept secret but he likes you.” You chuckled, Jughead never liked anyone, did he? “Laugh all you want, it’s funny having people like him adore you, I’d know from experience but… maybe consider him?” The bell rings before you can question or say anything, Veronica shrugs and smiles at you before leaving, “Jughead, although savvy with words through writing, isn’t so when expressing them outwardly.”

*Pop’s Diner: Next Day*

“You didn’t tell her,” Veronica stated again as she sat down in the booth directly opposite him. Archie on his left and Kevin sliding in beside Veronica, Betty squeezing herself in beside Keller. “I thought you were gonna tell her?”

Jug rolled his green eyes, “No, you said to go over and talk to her,” he pointed out. “I did exactly that, it was a pleasant conversation if I do say so myself.” Veronica rolled her eyes.

“Why is it so difficult to admit you like her, to her?” Archie asked.

“Cause that’s a very straight guy thing,” Kevin sips his strawberry milkshake, answering for Jughead and receiving a less than impressed look from Archie.

Jughead sighed, “Because I can’t afford to do stuff like dating or gifts, I lost my job and maybe, even if I get another job I still wouldn’t be able to buy her all the things she likes.” His voice getting more agitated.

The table becomes quiet as Jug leans back against the booth, folding his arms and looking out the window. Betty ends the silence by talking to Archie about his music, everyone allowing Jughead to be in his head, but not leaving him alone. If he truly wanted to be alone he would have jumped over the back and left, he didn’t do that.

From looking out the window he notices you, tentatively walking towards the diner. He hadn’t seen you… ever in Pop’s, not without Cheryl or maybe, a few other River Vixens. You were dressed in a dark blue coat, unbuttoned, showing the pink sweater underneath plus jeans. He frowns when you notice him in the window, making a gesture for him to meet you outside. He hops over the booth; pushing the diner door open and walking out into the cold towards you.

“What’s up?” He frowned gently.

“So, I’ve been thinking,” You began, “if you need help with that Science homework, I can help you?” Jughead frowns at you, “Just I’m passing that class, not that I don’t think you can’t do it or fail, I just wanted to offer my assistance.” You ramble a little chuckling nervously at the end.

Jughead lowers his gaze to the floor before looking back at you, “Did one of my idiots talk to you?” You chuckled and nodded causing him to sigh out.  “Listen, I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to be seen that way with me.”

“So, like my parents, you’re gonna be making decisions for me too?” You asked with a raised eyebrow, “what makes you think I give a damn what people think of me? You think I’m nice girl because it makes people like me? No, I’m nice because that’s just me.” You explain smiling a little up at him.

He shakes his head a little, the little amount of dark hair falling into his face as he towers over you. “We’re two vastly different people, you know that, right?”

You chuckled, “Sometimes you love someone because of the reasons they’re not like you!”

The air is thick around you both, you were waiting for Jug to say something but he had no words nor thoughts to what you said. It’s how he felt; he loved you for all the reasons you were different to him.

“I get that this might seem like some, stupid, uptown girl bullshit to you. I’m rebelling against my parents or something by dating you, it’s not. I just… you’re you, you know? This broody, writer type, that would laugh at this cliche.” He chuckled at that, “Then Veronica told me, kinda made it clear and just, I came here hoping…”

“That you’d help with my science homework?” You sighed and chuckled, nodding. “Well, I finished it,” you frowned as he smiled, “so, more time for burgers and fries, right?”

You followed him into the diner, a little in front as you walked to a booth, turning in time to see his friends give Jug supportive thumbs up. You grinned as he slid in opposite you.

“What about your parents?” Jug asked with a little frown, resting his arms on the table, leaning a little in and you mimicked his posture with a grin.

“Screw them,” you added an eye roll for dramaticness.

He huffed a chuckle. “I’m already causing a bad influence on you,” he amused as you smiled, adding a little half-shrug.

“You can’t be that bad of influence cause you’re in love with an uptown girl,” you point out.

Jug exhales through his nose, giving you a look. He leans forward a little, table edge digging into his torso but he doesn’t care, he connects his lips with yours in a short but sweet kiss. It’s like everything he hates about romance novels suddenly make sense, the butterflies and ‘fireworks’ suddenly happen, he curses himself for letting this happen to him. His heart racing, he pulls back a little and looks at you, you’re smiling with a faint blush.

“So, what can I get my uptown girl?” He nods to the menu, “I get any milkshake flavours on the house, by the way.” He adds with a mocking cocky smirk.

You laughed, “Well, if dating you means on the house milkshakes then I’m your girl,” He chuckled with a slight blush of his own at that.

(Hope people enjoy this. My dad was singing this as he cooked and I thought instantly, this is a Jug type song and I had to write it! Let me know what you think. - Ro)


I tagged people from Five Hundred Words, the next part will be posted Saturday (figured you’d guys would like this): @caitsymichelle13 @gurliest @florenceivy @katshrev @thelastxgoodthing @merrahonthawall @idkmilla @tinastark2015 @oh-balls-you-idjits @imahuricane