november winds

Shakespeare (Part VIII)

(Banner made by the incredibly talented @tiostyles)

Harry X Reader (AU)

In which Harry is a poetic frat boy who just so happens to be the TA for your new English class.

Read previous parts here.

Author’s note: Hi!! So sorry this was so late!! It’s pretty heavy. But I hope you guys enjoy it. I really liked writing it. As always, all feedback is appreciated!! Xx

Reading makes you a better writer.

That’s what you’re thinking as you finish up the fifth paragraph of your latest paper. All of your previous assignments have taken days to complete, but here you are, flying through an analysis of a Wordsworth poem. It might have to do with all the help Harry’s been giving you, too.

Your phone buzzes on the desk beside you and you snatch it up immediately. You’re in the quiet section again. Harry’s name pops up on the screen and you answer, holding the phone to your ear as you whisper into the receiver.

“Hi, there,” you greet with a smile.


The voice isn’t Harry’s. It’s American and much higher than his drawling rumble. Your smile fades into a confused frown.

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Rated M+
mafia!Jungkook x Reader


“She’s a babygirl Yoongi, and I think I’m in love with her.”

  • Radio Chaos | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | (Completed)

Rated M
racer!Jungkook x Reader


The dark hoodies and jackets they’re wearing hugging and touching their bodies in places every girl is dying to and you find yourself yearning for their warmth. While the unforgiving November wind creeps up your body, you wonder how soothing it would be in the embrace of a notorious boy.

Mood board/Playlist

  • The Land of Tears | 1 | 2 | 3 |

Rated M
punk!Jimin x Reader


He lifts up your skirt and wraps your bare legs around his waist – his jeans too cold, carrying the October rain with them, and it makes your whole body shiver.

Rated M
mafia!Yoongi x Reader


He was your own porcelain doll – a dark and fucked up version of it, at least

Mood board/Playlist

  • The Brothel | 1 |

Rated M
Jungkook x Reader


“He is beautiful beyond the dreams of pornography.” 

Rated M
Jungkook x Reader

Taehyung x Reader ft. Jungkook

taggertale  asked:

Do you know any hurricane preporations for apartments by any chance?!! 

Hurricane Safety for Apartments

Hurricane season is a dangerous time of year.  The Atlantic hurricane season lasts from June 1st to November 30th, and the Eastern Pacific hurricane season lasts from May 15th to November 30th.  High winds, storm surges, and flooding are all very real dangers to those in areas that are susceptible to hurricanes.  That is why, if your apartment is in an evacuation zone and you receive an evacuation order, it is in your best interest to follow it rather than waiting the storm out.  Oftentimes, those who stay behind in a hurricane suffer much more serious consequences than those who evacuate.  Remember, a “hurricane watch” means a storm is predicted to arrive within 36 hours.  A “hurricane warning” is issued within 24 hours of a storm.

If you do get stuck in your apartment during a hurricane, stay in a small central room like a bathroom, closet, or windowless hallway on the lowest level of your apartment.  Keep your emergency kit with you and listen to the radio for news.

Radio Chaos (Pt. 1)

Genre: Smut, Angst, Racer!Jungkook

Word Count: 4,155

Warnings: Sexual content, drinking, swearing, mentions of suicide

Summary:  The dark hoodies and jackets they’re wearing hugging and touching their bodies in places every girl is dying to and you find yourself yearning for their warmth. While the unforgiving November wind creeps up your body, you wonder how soothing it would feel in the embrace of a notorious boy.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

A/N: So tell me if you want me to continue this story, as always, your opinion means a lot to me. I didn’t read it through, so there are probably some errors. Enjoy! :) NONE OF THESE PICTURES ARE MINE, CREDITS TO THE OWNERS

They’re already here.

You can see the cars as you’re approaching, and you can barely distinguish a couple of figures that are leaning on them.

You can hear them talking, a laugh slipping out here and there – it all sounds like a murmur of voices, boyish voices; deep and rough, but soft at the same time, playful in a way, beckoning you over. Sharply cut strands of hair playing with the wind, pierced ears – and you think to yourself that ‘earrings have never looked hotter on boys’.
The dark hoodies and jackets they’re wearing hugging and touching their bodies in places every girl is dying to and you find yourself yearning for their warmth. While the unforgiving November wind creeps up your body, you wonder how soothing it would feel in the embrace of a notorious boy.

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It Could Have Been Anyone

Word Count: 3,574
Warnings: smut

Here you go @phandomsub

Summary: Dan is a porn star asked to be a part of the illustrious Phillip Lester and there ends up being a problem during shooting…

The black town car pulled up to a large mansion on the outskirts of London that looked like every other set Dan had worked on, but he knew from industry gossip as well as watching several of Phillip Lester’s films that the inside would be anything but normal. The man was known for transforming his mansion into over-the-top sets for whatever project he was working on as well as giving hands-on direction to the actors. In normal filmmaking that wouldn’t make Dan nervous but this was the adult film industry and that put him slightly on edge. Dan was newer to the porn industry and the fact that he was asked to perform in one of the Phillip Lester’s movies was not only a shock to him but to his manager PJ as well, but this could make or break Dan’s future in the industry so he had to perform well.

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the beginning of November by Rona Keller
Via Flickr:
I wake to a world covered in fog and spend my days not doing much until it gets dark again. In those hours before the world turns black I have the strong urge to create. I want to capture the last yellow leaves, the first November rain, the cold wind that brushes the outside of our house, how cosy my room feels at this time of the year, but sometimes I just stay in the moment. I try to enjoy it the way it is and wonder why it always feels like something is missing when I don’t take photographs. It’s never just beautiful or just cosy or just warm, it’s always fading and unsettling and cold, too. I curl up in my warm bed and try to let go, but the artist inside me never seems to rest.

The Clouds Will Roll

By the time Clarke finishes with her histology lab that evening, the light shower that came out of nowhere has intensified to a full blown thunderstorm. The class had run late after her professor at felt the need to ramble on and on about the intercellular matrix, and all she wanted to do was go home and crawl into her warm bed.

She pauses beneath the awning just outside the door of the lab building and swings her backpack around her shoulder. She shoves her hand into the bag, searching for her umbrella with frantic fingers and swearing under her breath when she comes up empty handed. She hastens into the rain, wishing she didn’t normally have such a fondness for walking the few blocks back to her apartment instead of driving her car. The rain already seeps through her sweater, the cold stinging her skin as the water meets the brisk November wind. She pulls the wool more tightly around her shoulders and ducks her head to her chest as she quickens her steps. Her hair is already heavy with dampness, and water droplets cling to her eyelashes and glimmer at the edges of her vision.

Clarke mentally berates herself for leaving her umbrella at home as she trudges through the puddles that collect on the sidewalk. The pools splash with her footsteps, water slipping into her sneakers and dampening her socks to create a sickening squelch with every stride.

She hears the whir of tires against wet pavement and reflexively steps further from the road. Though she’s already drenched, she’s not too keen on getting pelted by water as the car passes. She throws a quick glance over her head to make sure she’ll clear the spray and does a double take when she catches a glimpse of the familiar faded red paint of her boyfriend’s truck.

Bellamy is always headed home around this time of day after his shift at the campus bookstore. Her lab had gone late today, otherwise she probably would have missed him like she usually does, but of course he would pass by her at the perfect time today of all days. His truck slows to a stop at the curb, and Clarke’s eyes roll automatically.

Fucking hero complex, she thinks.

She’s still angry with him after their fight, his words echoing in her head as she pointedly ignores the vehicle. She had been so excited to find out she’d gotten into ArkU Med, her top choice for medical school that she had rushed over to Bellamy’s apartment to tell him. He’d been just as thrilled, maybe even surprisingly more so, his grin so wide it made the corners of his eyes crinkle, and he’d wrapped her in a hug so tight it caused her ribs to burn with affection. His kiss had been so fierce, so loving, and she could feel his smile against her lips as he pulled her toward his bedroom and proceeded to show her exactly how proud of her he was.

She knows he was just trying to be supportive when he suggested that night at dinner that she call her mom to tell her the news, but the idea had sent her recoiling. Bellamy knew that her mother had played a large role in her father’s decision to refuse chemo a year prior, knew that Clarke would never forgive her for allowing him to stop fighting. She had snapped at him, he had tried to pacify her with words that would really have never soothed her anger.

By that point, Clarke was just looking for a fight, and Bellamy had given her one. Things escalated quickly, and soon they were both angry, saying things in the heat of the moment they knew that neither really meant.  But that was two days ago, and she hadn’t spoken to him since.

From the corner of her eye she sees him roll down the window, and she speeds up.

“Clarke!” she hears him call behind her, his voice muffled by the storm. She doesn’t even slow down, her arms folding stubbornly across her chest in both obstinacy and an attempt to stay warm. His truck rolls slowly down the curb to keep pace with her. “Clarke, I know you’re still pissed at me, but it’s pouring. Let me drive you home.”

Read the rest on AO3


Originally posted by marvellousbarnes

Segregated Part One: The Usual Reaction

40s!Bucky x African American!Reader
Summary: A teenage skinny Steve introduces his best friend Bucky to his new friend.
Notes: I’ve been planning and researching for about 2 or so weeks for this. Hopefully it will turn out okay. This is obviously just the first part, a small introduction. I don’t know when the next part will be out. Sorry if there is any mistakes, grammar wise, I’m just putting this out, because I really want to get some feedback before I do too much more and I’m just really excited about it. Hopefully you all like it. Feel free to leave me feedback. <3
Warnings: Racial slurs used near the end.
Word Count: 1224
Part one/Part Two/Part Three/Part Four/Part Five/Part Six/

“She’s really cool Buck. I’m telling you.” Steve grinned a bit as he walked down the street, his hands shoved deep into his coat pockets.

“I just can’t believe you made a friend besides me.” Bucky laughed, smoothing his hair back into place after the cold November wind messed it up. “And a girl no less? How did that happen?”

“Some bullies were messing with her. I couldn’t stand by and let that happen.” Steve replied with a small huff. The memory passed through his head, evidenced clearly by his furrowed brows and tight-lipped expression.

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