now you all know how questionable my music taste really is

Loki’s New Nickname

Originally posted by wandering-in-hopeless-night

Warnings: Immense fluff, cutesie whipped cream and strawberries and chocolate syrup fights, tackling onto to the kitchen tiles, awkward choking on food, SMUT, fingering, hand jobs, oral, (female receiving) lovey dovey loki

A/N: The wonderful Delilah ( @papi-chulo-bucky ) helped me write some of the smut for this, i became bloody clueless. the (*)  in certain parts of Loki’s speech is a quote (linked)  I’ve used from a blog I found, (trust my you’ll like the sound of it)

Word count:  4812

~

You were wondering around the tower, a book in hand and your reading glasses in the other. You had just finished a sparring session with Steve, showering and then putting on some lounging clothes; a baggy vest and some pyjama shorts with some fuzzy socks.

Times had changed with the Avengers; grudges were slowly dissipating, mutual dislike turned to civility and Thor and Loki had become loving brothers once more.

Loki was usually isolated in his own mind, he was a social vampire when it came to gatherings; you wouldn’t get a word out of him unless you invited him into the conversation. He became a good man- it took him a while to earn the trust of the people around him and it took him a while to learn how to control his powers to use them for reasonable purposes.

Everyone was still skeptical about him, though, especially Clint. The whole mind control back in New York made the man uneasy and on guard constantly. Natasha had to keep distracting him whenever Loki joined everyone in the living area, for the man shot imaginary arrows in his general direction.

You had reached said living area and you heard howling laughter. You peaked around to see everyone laughing, apart from Loki.

“What’s going on guys?” You questioned, placing your book on the stand next to where the god was sitting.

“We’ve given Loki a new nickname.” Tony snorted. You rolled your eyes, knowing it wasn’t going to end well.

“And what would this nickname be, exactly?” You arched your brow at them whilst crossing your arms across. The guys, especially Tony and Sam, kept doing shit like this and it annoyed you to no end. You wanted Loki to feel welcome here, and they were making that impossible for him.

Horny.” You heard Loki mutter softly. You turned and looked at him then, emerald eyes meeting your wide ones. “Because of my helmet…What does it even bloody mean?” You kept hearing snorts of laughter in front of you and sneered at the two ‘grown ups’, but you had to stop yourself from giggling.

“Y'know you’re real funny, Tony, Sam, whoever made the nickname needs to grow up.” You picked up your book and sat next to man on the leather couch. “Just ignore them, Loki, they’re children in adult skin.” You whispered softly.

“I still want to know what it means, though.” He mumbled to himself, he shifted slightly and his arm brushed against yours, the coolness of his skin behind the thin material of his t-shirt making goosebumps rise upon your skin. “What are you reading, Y/N?”

“Oh, I’m reading The Rise and Fall of the Krays. Yeah, it’s a true story about two really famous gangsters in East London back in the… 1950’s? I think? Let me double check,” You placed a finger between the pages so you didn’t lose yours, and flipped the book to look at the blurb on the back. “Ah, the 50’s AND the 60’s. I was close.” Loki gave you a small smile and returned to looking out of the window.

You sat in a comfortable silence for a while, the sound of soft breathing and distant conversations filling your ears, that is, until Tony piped up.

“We’re all going out in 10 minutes, wanna join, Y/N? Or are you staying here with Horny?” The man chuckled.

You usually declined going out- the hustle and bustle of busy bodies and widely socializing making you rather uncomfortable. You scoffed at Tony’s childish words.

“I’m keeping Loki company, so no thank you, manchild.” You smiled sarcastically at Tony and then looked at Loki. You jumped ever so slightly when you noticed he was watching intently.

“You don’t have to, dear. Go out and have some… Midgardian…fun…” He cringed at word 'fun’. Loki wasn’t used to Earth, still, his idea of fun was pulling pranks and scaring the shit out of people.

“No, no, I’d like to stay here with you - don’t give me that look, Loki -” You were cut off when you heard multiple farewells, returning them briefly. “I don’t like crowds…or large parties that much.”

“Ah, I see. I hope I don’t bore you too much, petal.” You blushed at the nickname he gave you. You and Loki had grown closer during his time at the tower; small talk turned into full blown conversations, boring nights turned into ones where you could bask in each others company for hours, no physical contact became small, innocent touches, but he was still very timid, though.

You shot up from your seat, heading towards the kitchen area, you felt the pang of hunger reside in your stomach, so you had to eat at least something to make it go away.

“Loki, would you like something to eat? I might make some waffles.” You received a hum and a soft 'please’ from him. You quietly turned to see him take a peek at your book and you smiled slightly.

You soon finished cooking, 4 waffles in total. You plucked needed confections out of the cupboards and fridge; chocolate syrup, whipped cream, strawberries.

Before you ushered Loki over, you connected your phone to the sound system and played some music. The place was silent, so you wanted to change that. You skipped through your music list, fist bumping the air as soon as you found ‘No Scrubs’ by TLC. It was one of your favourite as a young teen and you swayed to the beat whilst happily mumbling the lyrics.

“Loki, come get your waffles!” You hollered, the tall god swiftly made his way over the the kitchen, sitting at one of the stools by the island.

“I must admit, petal, I’ve never had these before.” You gasped at his confession, awestruck that he had never tasted the sweet food before.

“Oh, gosh, Loki. Here- try some of mine, I’ve got strawberries, chocolate and whipped cream. I promise, it’s really nice!” You urged, you took some on your fork and held it up to him. “Taste it.”

He timidly leaned forward and took the food from your fork, his teeth baring. As he chewed you saw his eyes roll back with a moan. You bit your lip as you saw his head roll back, exposing the fair skin of his slender neck.

“Lord, if I ever knew how good these tasted, I’d have them everyday. May I?” He gestured towards the confectionery on the table, you replied with a ‘of course’ before you dug into your own, you done good.

A soft tune came on, and you recognised it to be one of Hans Zimmer’s masterpieces. You always played his music whenever you and Loki basked in the late night silences, it relaxed him and helped him focus whilst he read, he told you.

“Could you please tell me the definition of ‘horny’ now, Y/N?” You choked on what you were halfway swallowing.

“U-um, yes, okay, er…” You stuttered, you really wanted to save Loki the embarrassment, but it felt like you were the one in said state.

“It’s bad, isn’t it?” Loki muttered, shoveling more waffle into his mouth.

“No- it’s just crude.” You grimaced. “It means a-aroused…” The clatter of Loki’s fork on his plate startled you out of your embarrassed dazed.

“Well, Stark is in for a thorough beating, dare I say. Not only is he humiliating me, but he’s insulting my helmet-” He stopped when he noticed you staring at him in shock, scared he would lash out and break any plates.

You noticed his amused gaze upon your face, he started to chuckle lightly.

“W-What? Loki, what’s so funny?” You laughed as you cocked an arched brow at him.

Seeing him so happy made your chest swell and a smile tug at your lips. Loki found it difficult to let loose, for he was almost on edge all the time, worrying that if he took his mind off of reality for just a second, something bad would happen.

Your eyes widened as you watched Loki swiped cream across your nose, you let out a shriek as you watched his hand dip into the little scoop of cream and swipe across your cheek, creating a giant line of the white substance.

“You…You’ve got a little something right here, Y/N,” Loki spoke, but this time, his voice was deep with seriousness. His eyebrows furrowed as his gaze focused on your mouth. You watched as his finger gently touched your lip, before smearing more of the cream over your mouth.

You gasped as you felt the cream on your face, but this time he wasn’t getting off the hook. With a sudden burst of confidence, you lunged forward and with all your might, tackled him to the ground. You both landed onto the kitchen tiles with a loud thud, knocking over the stools that were beside you in the process.

“Oof!” Loki wheezed, “Ooh, my head…” He winced, holding his large hand to his head.

“Oh! Loki I-I’m so sorry!” you cried before getting to your knees and placing your hands on his shoulders. You peered down, trying to catch a glimpse of the spot he was holding, but instead was met with his trademark smirk. One that everyone knew meant trouble would soon follow.

‘Uh oh’ you thought. You immediately sat up straight, trying to make sense of why he would be looking at you that way. Before you could think, you felt two strong arms wrap around your body and pull you back onto the floor. He pinned you down with a strong arm before wiping more of the cream from your jaw to your neck. You gasped at the coldness of his slender fingers mingled with the cream and you wriggled underneath him, though he was tall and lithe he was heavy against your smaller form.

Loki managed to wipe more cream on you, not allowing you to escape from his strong grasp. His arm slipped and he accidentally wiped some of the sweetness in the valley of your breasts, both of your breaths hitching.

Loki’s playful facade fell as soon as he caught a glimpse of the small opening of your vest, which gave a perfect -and might he add, amazing view of your breasts. His eyes focused on your body, taking in every single detail it had to offer. From your chest, to your hair, all the way down to your hips. Dare he admit it, but he was enchanted by you.

“Forgive me,” he spoke, his voice soft as his eyes met yours once again. “But you truly are…one mesmerizing creature, Y/N.”

You swore on every single star in the sky, you felt your heart swell with the sensation of longing. You slowly reached a small hand to move a stray piece of raven hair away from his face, your fingers lingering on his jaw a few moments longer than they should have.

Everything was a blur as you felt Loki’s cool lips against yours, the mingled taste of strawberries and cream lingering on the supple skin. You laced your fingers into his long hair and tugged him closer to you, pressing your lips harder upon his.

You were jerked back to reality when you felt him pull away.

“I- I’m sorry, Y/N, for being so bold.”

“Shut up and kiss me, Loki, I haven’t gotten sticky whipped cream and chocolate syrup over me for nothing.” You giggled, pulling him down once more. You moaned as you felt his cool tongue brush against your own, your hips unconsciously bucking to meet his in pure need. You squeaked when you felt cold fingers brush against your jaw, tilting your head to the side.

Loki’s lips left yours, placing feather light kisses against your skin in a pathway to your neck. As lips and tongue left a wet path in their wake as they lapped up the whipped cream left there, you whispered his name, the sound of your voice and the bucking of your hips against his made him groan.

“Do you have any idea how much I crave this? Crave you? The taste of you? The feel of you? (*) Oh, darling, I’ve had plenty of feelings for you since the beginning. So beautiful, so kind, compassionate. I hope my feelings are not unrequited.” Loki confessed, his mouth brushing the valley of your breasts ever so slightly, collecting the white sweetness with his tongue.

“L-Loki, I’ve had something inside me, yearning for you, for a while. I need you, please.”

With that, Loki stood up from the kitchen tiles, pulling you with him. Gently pushing you against the counter, his hands found your hips and hair, he couldn’t decide whether to bring you closer or push harder against your soft body.

You let out a small whimper as his hands slowly snaked their way down to your hips, his nails dragging along your flesh teasingly, making you suffer in the best way possible. Loki dipped his face until it was resting onto your shoulder and began pressing little kisses along your skin.

A small sigh escaped your lips as his kisses slowly began traveling to the flesh beneath your ear, his lips sucking just enough to get a reaction from you. His hands worked their way from your hips until they were resting on the waistband of your shorts, tugging them down slightly..

“So beautiful,” he whispered, his voice was deeper now, yet filled with a hint of sincerity.

You felt your pyjama shorts sliding down your thighs, before they pooled around your ankles with a small plop, leaving you only in your underwear and fuzzy socks. You hastily kicked thee shorts from around your feet and your socks, sending them flying to the side of the kitchen, before leaning back into Loki’s touch as a kitten does it’s owner.

“I can’t tell you how long I’ve wanted to do this, my love.” He confessed as he began undressing himself, slipping off the dark sweater from his body and revealing his incredibly toned torso. One that you found yourself growing extremely wet at the sight of. Loki was beautiful, despite his differences from his brother. To you, he was perfection.

“Please,” you whispered, feeling his erection pressing into your bum through his jeans. You felt his hands slowly making their way to your vest and one by one, began to unbutton each of the little buttons.

“Have patience, my love.” he smirked as he fumbled with the final button on your vest, pulling it back and letting the material slide off of your shoulders and onto the floor beneath you both, revealing the soft bra underneath, Loki dragged his slender fingers across the fine lacework, admiring the beauty of such an undergarment.

You could hear his breath hitch as his hands finally rested on your breasts, his slender fingers massaged each of them softly. He dragged his thumb across your nipples, before giving each of them an experimental flick over the thin material of your bra. You arched into his touch, your mouth forming an O.

“Oh my,” you breathed as a wave of pleasure coursed through your body.

He let out a breathy chuckle as he pulled away, earning a small whine from you. Loki quickly rid himself of his remaining clothes, tossing them to the floor without a single care in the world, leaving him in only his tight boxer briefs, his hardness apparent under the thin material.

“So eager, yet you listen to me so well, come, my love. Follow me to my room.”

Bending over slightly, you hastily picked up both of your scattered clothes, trying not to make your rendezvous obvious to those who came back this way. As you straightened, you gasped as Loki turned you around and bent down, throwing you over his broad shoulder, taking you back to his room.

“You cheeky bastard!” You squealed as you felt a light spank to your backside.

“Tsk, tsk. Such profanity from a pretty little mouth like yours, Y/N.” You both laughed at this, you let your arms dangle over his back and you dragged your blunt nails across his flesh only slightly, and you felt him gasp at the sensation. You got a lovely view of his behind and you smiled to yourself.

You felt Loki’s hands grip your thighs, gently digging his nails into your soft flesh. You arrived at the door then- because your felt your feet brush against the solid door. Loki turned the handle and walked in swiftly, setting you down on your feet. He twisted his body and locked the door, you watched as the muscles in his back rippled with his movements and were completely lost in him.

You were brought out of your trance when you felt Loki’s plump lips brush against yours and feather light fingertips brush against your waist. You let your mouth go slack against his, allowing his tongue to brush against yours again, mirroring the actions in the kitchen. You trailed your hands up his forearms, to his broad shoulders and all the way up to his hair, tugging slightly.

Loki let out a soft groan against your mouth, sending vibrations right down to your throbbing heat. He hunched and dragged his hands to the back of your thighs, not once breaking your ongoing kiss, and hoisted you up against him, pushing you gently against his bedroom wall. The coolness making you shriek, making Loki pull back to look into your dilated pupils.

“I’m a frostgiant, love, I don’t need my room to be warm, you should know that already…” He mumbled, placing butterfly kisses into your neck. His erection was pulsing against your heat and you ground yourself down onto him, both sighing at the tasteful friction of his hard cock against the damp heat of your panties.

He pulled you off the wall then, setting you down onto the soft mattress of his bed. He nestled himself between your soft thighs and kissed you fervently. You became nervous; you had done this before, but this was a whole different atmosphere, Loki was different to the rest of the men you had slept with. He was powerful, dominant, he was from another fucking realm for god’s sake.

Loki could feel you tense against him, “I sense your unease, but I’ll be gentle, my love, I promise, there’s no other way I would want this, with you right now…” His words were silk as he spoke and he connected your lips in a passionate kiss that made your arch your back, keening for more of him against you, you shifted your calf around his waist, pulling his hips closer to yours, eliciting a sharp groan from his chest as he felt your soaked panties grind against his clothed cock.

You rocked against each other like ocean waves, his hips shifting against yours, finding that much needed friction, “My sweet girl, so good for me, buck your hips, let me feel you against me.” The soft spoken words against your lips sent shivers down your spine, making you arch your back into him, your clothed core grinding against his once more.

Your lips broke apart, green eyes stared into Y/E/C and you felt his fingers tug at the waistband of your underwear asking for permission, and you granted him just that by swiftly nodding your head, bringing his face down to yours, kissing him deeply.

As Loki dragged your panties down your legs, your squirmed in excitement, the feeling of his cold fingers against your scorching skin making you wetter and wetter by the second. Kicking your panties off your ankles, you felt Loki set himself between your thighs once more.

“Do you want my fingers inside you, petal?”

“Mmm, Loki- please, I need you.” You soon felt to slender fingers part your wet folds, rubbing gently from your entrance to your clit, and you moaned loudly at his touch. He spread your slickness throughout your heat and slipped a single finger inside your sex, languidly probing at your g-spot.

“Such a good girl, Y/N,” Loki muttered, watching you as your face contorted in pleasure, your teeth digging into your bottom lip.  “So wet, darling, so wet, all for me?” You hummed and threw your head back against the soft pillow as he inserted another finger, curling and dragging them in, out, in, out.

“L-Loki, keep going and I’m going to-to cum.” You choked. At these words Loki quickened the pace of his fingers whilst his other hand came to to toy with your sensitive clit, bringing you closer to climax, but as soon as you neared the brink he removed both hands from you, making you whine.

“You’ll cum around my tongue first, petal.” His voice was low, gravelly, and it made you take a deep breath, your chest heaved in anticipation as he brought his fingers to his mouth, sucking your juices off of them whilst keeping his emerald eyes locked onto yours, the action was so erotic you couldn’t bare it.

He proceeded to kiss you then, the taste of yourself on his tongue as his hands reached behind you to rid you of your bra, flinging it across the room in haste. The cool air of his room made your nipples harden, making Loki take the chance to tweak and roll them between his fingers, making you take a sharp breath as you arched your back, yearning for more of his touch.

He shifted down the bed and used his large hands to part your thighs, his grip tight but gentle. He blew a soft puff of cold air on your heat and you jumped.

“You are a goddess, you deserve to be worshipped properly, pleasured like there is no more time in the world, let me give you this, Y/N.” You felt Loki’s tongue lick a thick stripe up your glistening folds. His tongue gently separated your lips, nudging the small sensitive nub that was your clit. You weaved your fingers through his thick, dark locks, tugging sharply.

You gasped, feeling the amazing sensation between your legs. You had your fair share of men please you throughout your life. You’ve had them try their hardest to touch you just right, eager to find what makes you tick. But none of them, no matter how hard they tried, could achieve what Loki was currently achieving at the moment. He made you crumble beneath his touch within seconds, and worshipped your body as if it were the last thing he would ever do on Midgard.

Your fingers weaved their way into his black locks again, gently tugging them as his lips connected with your clit gave a harsh suck. Your body, as if it had a mind of its own, arched off of the bed as he pleasured you, one of hands stayed gripping your hip as the other slithered its way up your abdomen, massaging each breast.

Loki pulled away suddenly and peered up at you, his mouth and chin glistening with your juices as he gave you a mischievous smirk. “Does that feel good, my love?”

“Hmm, yes, Loki-”

“That’s it, Y/N, say my name,” He intentionally groaned, the vibrations sending jolts of pleasure straight through your clit and you tumbled down from the immense orgasm. You were a panting mess, writhing and yanking at his hair as you came down from your high.

“I-If that’s what your tongue can do I can’t imagine what your cock can-” Loki silenced you with his lips, the familiar taste of yourself lingering on his tongue. “No need for filthy words, Y/N” Loki muttered against the skin underneath your ear, he could feel hot precum leak from his painfully hard cock, it almost drove him insane.

You relaxed and draped your arms around his neck, basking in the temporary silence, the only sound being both your heavy breathing. You snaked your hands down towards his hips and you palmed him through the thin fabric of his briefs. A choked groan tumbled from his lips at the gentle feeling. You continued to rub your palm across the length of his erect cock through the thin fabric, making Loki buck his hips into your touch.

“You can take them off, love.” You hooked your thumbs into the thick waist band and slowly tugged them down, your small hand curved over his ass, squeezing slightly and giggling at his shocked reaction. Loki didn’t flinch when the cool air of his room brushed against his swollen length, and it didn’t surprise you; he was a frostgiant.

He kneeled and shifted his boxers down his legs because your arms couldn’t reach. His cock stood proud and tall against his pale abdomen, the pinkness of his head contrasting beautifully against the pale.

Loki hissed in pleasure as your warm hand wrapped around him, your fingers smearing the precum around his tip. You began jerking him slowly, squeezing him here and there.

You let him take over, and you spread your legs until you were completely exposed to Loki again. Your breaths came out in short little puffs as he hovered over you, his green eyes darkened with a lustful gaze. You felt your entire body humming with excitement as he reached between your bodies and grasped ahold of his cock and gently ran it along your glistening slit.

His eyes found yours once again, but this time, instead of the predatory, lustful gaze, it was filled with love and passion.

“My love, as much as I want you to take you now, have you any precaution?” Loki’s gaze was serious, and he was relieved when you murmured the words ‘I’m on contraception’.

With a languid thrust of his hips, Loki was sheathed completely inside of you. You took a moment and felt the fullness of him inside you.

Loki held one hand on your hip as the other caressed your jaw as he gazed at you.

“You are divine, my sweet girl, so beautiful. (*) I will take you. Slowly, softly. And then I will claim you. Swiftly, thoroughly. So much that you will cry out for more. Your gentle whispers of my name shall become ragged screams of exhilaration.” He claimed your lips with his he began to slowly thrust in and out of you, the lude sound of slickness along with the sound of heavy breathing engulfing your senses.

Your arms hooked under his and your nails dragged down his back, bucking your hips to meet his thrusts.

“Patience, remember what I said, Y/N.”

You became the opposite, you wanted him thrusting harder, deeper, faster, you needed him pounding into you. Your wishes came true as you felt Loki’s large cold hand inch your thigh above his slim hips. Loki began to quicken his pace, though he kept his grace and steadiness whilst sucking your lip into his mouth, his teeth nibbling at the soft flesh, bringing a groan to rise from your throat.

“Ah-aaahhh, Loki I-” You hissed through your teeth as you felt bottom out, the tip of his cock hitting your cervix, as he pulls out to push back in again, his head brushes against your g-spot. Loki anchors himself by threading his fingers into your hair and pulling- not too rough, and not gently either. His other hand ventures down towards your heat, his fingers begin to draw pressured circles around your bundle of nerves and you begin to writhe against him in pleasure.

“That’s it, my good girl, cum for me, yes, cum for me, Y/N.” You feel your walls clench around him as your orgasm approaches at his words, with a swift pinch to your clit with his cool fingers, you come undone around Loki’s cock, your muscles contracting against him, adding pressure to the thick vein on the underside, egging his own orgasm on.

“Ah, fuck, Y/N. You’re so good for me, petal, my goddess, let me see those beautiful eyes.” Loki’s face contorted with his orgasm, as yours did prior. You felt the hot, thick streams of cum fill you as he almost collapsed on top of you and it prolonged your own orgasm, making you scream his name.

As Loki pulled out of you, he peppered tender kisses over your shoulders and neck. He shifted to lean on his elbow to look at you in your naked glory, the sweat was apparent on both of your flesh, gleaming in the soft light emitted from the lamp next to your head. Loki stroked a single finger over the skin of your cheek.

“I don’t think I’ve loved anyone as much as I love you, Y/N. It’s such a foreign feeling.”

“It’s okay, I love you too, Loki,” You pulled on a strand of his hair playfully, a smile adorning your lips, “though, I think we should shower, my hair’s gone a bit sticky from the chocolate syrup…horny.

~

Permanent Tags (guys i lost my list wtf im improvising):

@buckyshattergirl @hopelessgarbage @bucky-nugget @jezzula @scarlettsoldier @grooveandshit @papi-chulo-bucky @barnescrazy

Broken Heart

Originally posted by jeffatkinsimagines

The music was blaring loudly from the large speakers in the gym, lights flickering back and forth between different colors of the spectrum, the smell of punch lingered in the air mixed with alcohol that some students had managed to sneak in.

(Y/N) sat on the bleachers with her head down, looking at her short and shiny black heels that were beginning to make her feet ache. Reaching down, she took them off and wiggled her toes for a moment before sighed and leaning back against the bleacher behind her.

Keep reading

Archie Andrews Imagine

“I Hate Parties”

Summary: Betty and Veronica were always dragging you out to parties, the only thing that makes this one any better is the arrival of the one and only Archie Andrews.

Word count: 3030

a/n: It’s way longer than I thought it was gonna be but what the heck. Sorry if it sucks but I suck so it’s appropriate.

Parties had never really been your thing. Like you liked going out sometimes, and every once in a while you would be in the mood to dance, but after a while it just felt boring. Every time you got ready on Friday nights with Betty and Veronica you would be excited; ‘This time will be different,’ you’d think to yourself. But time after time it would end up the same way with the same house of people dancing to the same music and playing the same game of beer pong. Tonight was no exception.

“Can we leave yet?” you yelled over the booming bass to B and V, trailing behind them.

Veronica turned her head to answer you, “Okay, we literally, and I mean literally, just walked in. You haven’t even had time to get bored yet!” She pushed through the crowd and led the trio to the bar in the corner of the room. “So,” she turned to you and Betty with 3 shot glasses, “shots anyone?”

You rolled your eyes and looked to Betty for a go/no-go. “I’m convinced that you have some sort of radar or sonar or something when it comes to finding alcohol” Betty joked back.

“It’s residual from my days in New York,” she said handing each of you a shot glass. “Gentlemen, to our wives and girlfriends,” she started the usual toast looking at the two of you expectantly. You turned you Betty and completed it simultaneously laughing, “May they never meet” and downed the shot, feeling the vodka burn all the way down your throat. You weren’t a huge fan of alcohol, yet another reason parties weren’t your favorite place, but being drunk was fun sometimes. Since it was the getting drunk that was the annoying part, you generally stuck to vodka. You preferred its nail polish remover taste that could get the job done faster to the slow-working, carbonated urine formally known as beer.

Just then, the music changed to “Cake by the Ocean” by DNCE, a song that was notoriously Betty’s jam. Her eyes widened and she jumped up in down in excitement. “We have to dance!” she squealed pulling your and Veronica’s wrists toward the dance floor.

“I think I’m gonna sit this one out guys,” you explained trying to get out of this inevitable public display of embarrassment.

“What, you don’t dance Chad Danforth?” Veronica teased in a very Veronica-esque way. Betty chimed in, “Because we all know how that ends, Chad dances with Ryan like the whole time”.

“It’s not that I’m too good to dance, it’s just I’m not drunk yet enough to dance”

That must have been an acceptable answer because Betty simply pointed at you and began to back away with Veronica in tow with a “Hey batter batter, hey batter batter, swang,” to which you yelled back over the growing crowd with your hands cupped around your mouth, “I’ve got to just do my thang!”

B and V faded behind an ocean of people and you were alone. Just you and the vodka. Speaking of the vodka…

You turned to the bar and poured yourself another shot and stuck your tongue out at the offensive taste. You poured some coke into a red solo cup and started to walk away then thought better. You turned around and poured some more vodka in with the coke. What? It was gonna be a long night.

You made your way through the room, deliberately avoiding the table with the jungle juice and found a dimly lit corner to lean in.

I wonder where Archie is right now? It’s not like he normally hangs out with us at parties anyway. Since they always happen after football games he usually hangs out with the rest of the team, but you were curious. You would never admit it to anyone, not even Betty or Veronica and especially not to Archie, but you’d had feelings for him for quite some time. There were times when you wanted to tell him about it, he was one of your friends after all, but you truly felt that he didn’t feel the same way. It wasn’t worth the risk.

“You like hanging out in dark corners, loner?”

Speak of the devil and he shall appear. You could identify that voice anywhere: the one and only Archie Andrews.

“You like staring into dark corners, creeper?” you shot back.

Archie chuckled and approached with open arms for a friendly hug. “Hey y/n,”

“Hey Tom Brady, great game.” You pulled out from the hug but stayed standing close to him to be able to hear each other over the loud music.

He smiled, “It wasn’t exactly the Super Bowl, but thank you. So, what are you drinking?” He plucked the plastic cup out of your hand. “This isn’t the jungle juice, is it?” he questioned with a slightly alarmed but mostly joking tone. Reggie’s jungle juice was pretty famous, or more accurately infamous.

“God no,” you shook your head, “It’s just coke.”

“Good. Stay away from the jungle juice.” He took a sip and did a bit of a spit take into a nearby plant overdramatically. He looked at you with a faux-shocked expression. “Just coke, huh y/n?”

“Just coke as in mostly coke. As in there’s slightly more coke than vodka.”

“Alcohol’s illegal for people our age you know,” he warned just before he drank half of the cup’s contents.

You narrowed your eyes and leaned toward him as if trying to get a better look, “Why, you a cop?”

He glanced around, checking that the imaginary coast was clear before he leaned in. “You ever seen 21 Jump Street?”

“Ah,” you nodded.

“Yeah.” He said with a laugh, straightening his back and returned the cup to your hand. You thought his hand had lingered for a second touching yours; you were probably just imagining it. You had to be imagining it, but the moment was over before you could really be sure.

“Uh,” you tried to regain your composure. “Betty and Veronica were in the other room dancing the last time I saw them,” You offered figuring this had to be his destination. You were friends/friendly with him but they were all really close. The only reason you even knew Archie in the first place is because you had become good friends with the girls.

He shrugged his shoulders, “Okay.” He blinked at you and didn’t move. You tried to suppress the smile that was threatening to show itself. Maybe he was here for you. The electronic music blared on and you scanned the room, looking for nothing in particular in an attempt to make yourself busy, or at least make yourself look busy. The house was filled to the brim with a mix of people, some you knew, some you didn’t. People were singing and dancing and yelling and drinking and smoking and—okay, you couldn’t ignore it anymore. Archie was still looking at you! You could feel his eyes on you from the side.

You glanced at him and couldn’t help but let out a nervous laugh. He was just smiling down at you like a fool. “Is… is there something I can do for you Mr. Andrews?”

He smirked, keeping a laugh to himself, “No, it’s just,” he shook his head looking down at his feet. “Nah, never mind.”

“Oh, come on! What? Do I have something on my face? Is my hair messed up?” You ran your fingers through your hair trying to fix any possible issues.

“No, you look great. I was uh,” he looked back up at you. “It was just that you looked really cute.” He shrugged his shoulders and looked off to the rest of the party, the flashing lights washing his face with a blue and red light, hitting his cheekbones in just the right way to leave a shadow in the hollows of his cheeks. It wasn’t until that moment that you really noticed how close he was standing to you. He was at max 6 inches from you; he could lean forward the tiniest bit and kiss you (if he were so inclined). It all felt too good to be true. He had to be drunk or something.

“How many drinks have you had?”

“Just the sip of your ‘mostly coke’. Why?”

For some reason this answer bothered you more than if he had been drunk. The fact that he called you ‘cute’ while being almost completely sober was, as far as you could tell, reason for alarm. “Let’s go find some drinks.” Frankly, you needed another one.

You grabbed him by the wrist so you wouldn’t lose him in the crowd and began to push through the mess of sweaty bodies toward the familiar bar. You would have made it too, if it weren’t for the jungle juice. You were walking past the table with the punch bowl of the “juice” on it, the bar was in sight, when some random drunk guy with a cup full of, you guessed it, Reggie’s famous jungle juice rammed into you, spilling the entire contents of the cup all over your shirt. Your mouth hung open and the people around you all gasped.

Archie pushed between you and the guy, “Hey man, why don’t you watch where you’re going?” There was some real anger in his voice, and you weren’t going to lie, it was pretty hot.

“Well why don’t you mind your own business?” the guy said getting right in Archie’s face. He opened his mouth to respond but before he could get anything out you put your hand on his shoulder from behind him.

“Archie?”

He looked down at you, clenching his jaw. “C’mon Arch, it’s not worth it.”

He looked back up at the guy for a moment then back down at you. The crowd that had gathered around you all waiting in anticipation for Archie’s response.

He nodded his head, “I know where the bathroom is,” the crowd of people returned to their former activities with sounds of general dismay that there hadn’t been a fight. “Let’s go see what the damage is.” He grabbed your hand in his and led you in the opposite direction as the bar, down a hallway, and into a bathroom.

It was pretty dark in the house so you couldn’t really see how badly it had spilled on your shirt yet. Archie closed the door behind you while you felt around on the wall for a light switch. You flipped on the switch and he immediately gasped sharply.

“Is it that bad?” you asked. You couldn’t being yourself to look in the mirror yet.

“No… I mean it’s…” He tried to think of some consolation to give, unsuccessfully. “Yeah, it is that bad.”

You hesitantly turned to face the mirror, squinting enough to delay the inevitable. Your eyes sprung open and you found that yes, it truly was that bad.

“Oh my god.”

“I told you.”

“This shirt ruined! How am I supposed to wear this for the rest of the night?”

“Well, you did say you wanted to find another drink. I guess it found you first,” You looked at him in the mirror and rolled your eyes. “And I did warn you to stay away from the jungle juice” he laughed getting a closer look at the stain.

You turned to him and sighed, “I have to go home. There’s no way I can walk around like this.” You still didn’t like parties, and this was no exception, but you were actually getting to hang out with Archie alone. This was just your luck.

“Take my shirt,” He blurted out, rather loudly.

“Take your shirt? Like the one you’re wearing right now? Arch as much as I’m sure that every girl at this party would love to see you walking around shirtless, neither of us are at that point of drunkenness yet.”

“It’s fine. Even if you’re got my jersey, I’ve still got my letterman,” he countered, already peeling off his jacket and throwing it on the floor. “It’s not like I’ll be completely shirtless.” You thought about this for a moment before hesitantly nodding your head in agreement. You really didn’t want this night to end just yet. Plus, shirtless Archie.

You took off your stained t-shirt and threw it in the trash, no stain remover was powerful enough to work on that jungle juice. You stood awkwardly in just your plain black bra. You definitely had cuter, but you hadn’t planned on anyone, especially not Archie, seeing you shirtless tonight. Archie pulled off his jersey leaving both of you half naked. And let me tell you he was built with a capital B. Just as he was handing you the jersey, the bathroom door flings open. It seems neither of you had remembered to lock it in the chaos of the dark.

Kevin Keller stumbled into the room, clearly at least a little bit intoxicated. It took him a second but when he finally realized what he had walked into, at least what it looked like he had walked into, his eyes widened dramatically taking in the scene. It was understandable. You were sure this looked a lot worse than it really was.

“Oops!” he exclaimed.

“Kevin, it’s really not what it looks like,” you tried to explain to him with your hands out in front of you as if trying to calm a wild animal.

“Don’t even worry about it you guys. Your secret’s safe with me,” he tried to wink at you but the alcohol in his system just turned it into a sloppy blink. This sentiment did nothing to ease your concern. Kevin was not the person people told secrets to. Kevin was the person people told when they wanted the whole town to know something.

Archie tried to stop him too, “No, Kevin man, it’s not like that. Her shirt just-“

“Hey, you don’t have to explain yourselves to me. I always knew Archie - Y/n would happen. Don’t you worry about a thing. My lips are sealed.” He stumbled out of the bathroom and Archie quickly shut the door behind him, locking it this time.

You both stood in an awkward silence for a few seconds, neither of you knowing exactly what to say.

After about 30 seconds you asked already knowing the answer, “He’s definitely going to go tell Betty and Veronica about this, right?”

“I’m sure they already know.”

You nodded your head and took the jersey from his hand. He slung on the jacket and waited for you. You pulled his jersey over your head. It was big on you but not too big. It smelled like Archie. It felt right. He opened the door and you followed him out of the room, only for him to stop abruptly. You ran into him and then peered over his shoulder at what had stopped him. Who else but Cheryl Blossom joined by Josie at her side.

“Well, well, well. What do we have here?” she said in her Cheryl way, her eyes scanning up and down. “The quarterback and the rando hooking up at a party together. How cliché. Doesn’t this feel like a bad 80’s rom-com?”

Josie joined in, “Who’s Molly Ringwald in this situation?”

“I’m like Breakfast Club Molly Ringwald and Y/n’s like Sixteen Candles Molly Ringwald. That makes Archie Jake Ryan!”

Neither of you had the patience to try and explain the situation to her. Archie grabbed your hand pulling you in the other direction down the hallway. “It’s been a pleasure as usual Cheryl,” he yelled behind him.

Over the blaring music, you could just make out her say “Or maybe she’s more Pretty in Pink Molly Ringwald…”

He pulled you through a different part if the house to a patio where a few random couples were making out. They were taking up all the seating and he scratched his head not knowing where to go.

“Why don’t we just sit in the grass?” you suggested. You walked over to a far part of the lawn that was dark but still lit by the moon. The music was muffled and distant, present enough that would could have private conversation, but still muted. He sat down crisscross applesauce style and you followed suit, chuckling to yourself. You both sat with your forearms resting on your knees, leaving only a couple of inches between each other.

“We’re finally alone.” He stated quietly, sounding satisfied. The moon lit up half of his face and his fiery locks glinted as he tilted his head.

“Yeah, that’s why I come to parties. To be alone. Just me and two-hundred of my closest friends.” You breathed sarcastically.

He grinned at your reply. He looked at you for a moment. Just really looked at you. He was really seeing you.

He looked away timidly, “You look good in my jersey you know.”

You raised an eyebrow, “Yeah?” He nodded his head. You considered how to reply. “Well I guess I’m just gonna have to try out for the football team then.”

“Or,” He leaned in even closer, “alternatively,” his lips just centimeters from yours, “you could just…” He pressed his lips to yours, lightly but passionately, like it was something he’d been wanting to do for a long time. His lips were soft and it felt right, he felt right. It only lasted a couple of seconds but it felt like forever, in a good way. He pulled back and all you could both do was grin at each other.

All of a sudden, a mess of loud yelling coming from the house caught both of your attention. “Woo!!!” “Oh yeah!!!” “Get it!!!” “Hashtag Archie-Y/n!!!” Veronica and Betty were hanging out of a window calling out to the two of you. You looked up at the sky in embarrassment and Archie just shook his head at them, laughing. They pumped their fists and chanted “OTP, OTP, OTP…”

Archie stood up and put his hand out to pull you up, “Do you wanna go to Pop’s? Or anywhere that isn’t right here?” “Gladly,” you agreed, “I hate parties.”

epiphany pt.2 | jungkook

Pairing: Jungkook + Reader

Genre: Fluff/Angst + college au

Word Count: 3k

Summary: You hated his guts, especially after he ruined your chance at getting a good grade in one of your toughest classes. But why did your heart beat a little faster every time you saw him? And why did he feel the same way?

—–

Reader’s POV

As your eyes fluttered open, the bright light from your window piercing through making you squint, you felt something heavy strayed against your body. Finally adjusting to the light, a gasp left your mouth when you saw Jungkook in front of you, his chest rising up and down softly, as his arm was draped around your waist, having you flush against him.

Wha- OMG!” You exclaimed loudly, as you threw his arm off of you, scrambling away when your sudden movement caused Jungkook to fall off the bed with a large thud.

“What the hell…” he grumbled, his voice low and raspy as he got up on his feet, rubbing the side of his head as he stared at you through his lidded eyes.

“Y-You! You were–Why were you in my bed?!” You shrieked as you quickly looked down at yourself, the clothes you wore last night still donned on your body, a sigh of relief escaping you.

Jungkook’s eyes widened in alarm when a look of realization dawned upon him, as he stared at you, words spluttering from his mouth in a frenzy.

“Wai–It’s not what it looks like! I swear, I didn’t do anything! Y-you’re the one that grabbed me and asked me not to go and-”

“I did what?!” you exclaimed, your own eyes widening to the size of saucers, when Jungkook added, “Last night, you grabbed my wrist and told me not to go in your sleep and I tried but you just wouldn’t let me go so I thought I’d stay till you let me go but then I fell asleep an-”

Moaning, you fell to your knees in dramatic fashion, your head in your hands as you groaned in embarrassment, “Oh my god, I’m such an idiot. This is so embarrassing, this is so embarrassing!!!”

“Y/N–” Jungkook started when you lifted a hand up, pointing towards the door without lifting your head, feeling too ashamed too look him in the eyes.

“Please, just leave Jungkook-ah…I can’t. This is too embarrassing.” you begged as you saw his feet shuffle around, before he grabbed his stuff and made his way out the door, a breath of relief leaving you as you sunk against the wall.

“You’re kidding me?!” Seulgi repeated again while you were walking next to her, your shoulders slumped as your trudged down the sidewalk.

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Terms and Conditons. (Jeon Jungkook.)

Originally posted by jeony

Requested – Yes.

Prompt – Jungkook was out looking for a new flavor of the month and his eyes land on a certain previously taken girl.

Warning – This is a sugar daddy Jungkook scenario. Slight angst, more angst in the future and smut. This smut includes daddy kink.

Words – 2,259. 

Requests?

The energy was heightened as groups of individuals danced around the large ballroom held for an extravagant party. Jeon Jungkook was known to be quite a party planner when it came to his business because he always wanted to make a strong entrance plus he wanted to impress the girls that might be lucky enough to land in his bed that night.

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“So what are you?”

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

“So what are you?”

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

“So what are you?”

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

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

“So what are you?”

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

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

“So what are you?”

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

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

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

“So what are you?”

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

Galway Girl

1940’s Bucky x Reader Oneshot

Summary – You meet a handsome soldier in a pub one night, but is he the one?

Warnings – Mostly fluff, with an allusion to some steaminess, and then some angst because I had to!

Word Count – 1,288

Notes – This is my fic for Annie’s @hellomissmabel Shuffle Challenge.  This fic is based off of Ed Sheeran’s Galway Girl.  I know this is supposed to be a generalized Reader Insert fic, but the song is pretty specific about her being a Galway Girl.  From my research Galway Girls are known for having dark hair and blue eyes and they’re Irish.  Please forgive me for being a bit specific, but I hope you enjoy the fic anyway!  As always, I enjoy reading all of your feedback, comments and questions!

Masterlist

Originally posted by stallingdemons


The trip across the Atlantic had been long, but it had given Bucky a chance to get to know a few of the guys in his unit.  The one he’d grown the closet to was Sergeant Dugan.  He and Dum Dum had hit it off immediately, so it was no wonder that once they’d landed on the shores of Great Britain and Colonel Fraser had given them leave for the night, the two of them had found the closet pub.

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Crush (Jason Todd x Reader)

Summary: Bruce is a dick and Jason storms away. You are the only one following him.

Warnings: eh, light smut? You make out, basically it’s nothing, slight angst

Note: (Y/A) = your alias

»»»»
“We have to–”

“No!”

Jason tried to help. He just wanted to help, but Bruce pretended he had just killed someone, what he didn’t, like Jason’s judgment was not good enough to be considered.

“He will escape!”

“You are not part of the team anymore, Red Hood. Stand down!”

This felt like a punch right in the gut. Jason stood there, looking at Bruce who turned to Dick, what made Jason’s throat tighten even more. The world around him blurred and his heart ached with pain and rage.

You watched him. Suddenly the bat on your chest burned and you wanted to rip it off, throw it to the ground and quit.
You stepped forward, searching for words that were pouring from your brain and disappear. You couldn’t understand how Bruce didn’t notice how much it hurt Jason, the uncontrollable anger that rose and was about to spill out of him.

Jason’s jaw tensed. Fine, he thought and just ran. He ran and jumped from roof to roof, not checking if it was safe. No one cared about him anyway, right? He was alone in this city, in this world.
Alone in death. Alone in life.
Would they even notice if he’d die, again.
Probably not.

“No one wants to go after him?!” You shouted at everyone, but mostly Bruce. He gave you a quick levelled look and it pushed you over the edge. “You’re an extra asshole today, Bruce. Screw you.” And with that you followed Jason.

You thought Jason was funny, you didn’t know him well, though and yes, you had developed this little crush on him, but this now was something else.
This was anger and fear.
Anger about Bruce’s behavior and fear that one day he might treated you just like Jason today.
And you never wanted to witness that.

Jason was a few feet ahead of you now. “Jason, stop!” You yelled, but he ignored you, pushing even harder. You look ahead of him and a wave of panic broke free. “STOP!” You knew he wouldn’t make that jump and you were sure he knew that too what made it even sadder.

You acted swiftly, reaching for your grappling gun.
You shot and made it pull you what gave you speed.
Jason jumped, but you just made it in time to grab his arm, swinging the two of you in a half circles and crashing into the sixth floor of some office building.

You laid beside him in the sharp pieces of shattered glass. Your cheek was cut open, blood dripping down to your jaw.

“What the hell is wrong with you?!” He growled. Jason was holding his upper arm, trying to rub the dull pain from landing away.

You scoffed. “With me? You were jumping… jump– jumping into death!” You wanted to sugar coat it, but were at a loss of words once more. He didn’t, right? He wouldn’t just want to die again?

“And?” Jason laid his head down, mask facing the ceiling. “My decision.”

“Thought since you knew how it is to die you tried to avoid doing it again.” You mumbled indignant. It just frustrated you.

“I don’t have to talk to you,” he said angrily and got up.

“Thank you, (Y/N). Thank you for being the only one coming after me.” You mimicked his voice before talking in your own tone. “No biggie, Jason. Bruce was a real dick. I really like you and if you ever need company just give me a ring. You are not alone, dude.”

He was stopping right at the edge of the window and his head turned slightly.
You wondered if he was crying under the helmet.

“You’re a good liar.”

“You are bad at spotting lies then, because non of this was a lie.”

He stomped past you. His lethal body now towering over you, making your heart race. You wanted to see his eyes so bad in this moment.

“You hate me just as much as everyone else does, don’t pretend.” He hissed.

You laughed inauthentic, almost sarcastically. “That’s what you think?” You narrowed your eyes at him. “I didn’t know you were so desperate for approval.”

Now he was the one laughing inauthentic, almost sarcastically.
You were standing there, daring at each other as if at any second you would kill one another.

You were the first to move, taking a deep breath.
Jason watched your face soften and body relax almost as if he had defeated you and it didn’t make sense to him.

“I don’t hate you, Jason. I hate that I like you.” You paused. “Like in like like. I’m not good with feelings, you know.” You shrugged.

He tore his helmet off his face. His brows were pulled into a tight frown. His eyes made your insides tingle, but they were so full of question. “What?”

“Yeah.” You raised your hands innocently. “C'mon, don’t tell me your self-esteem is so damaged you don’t believe someone has a crush on you.”

He didn’t even blink.

You got more serious now. “I mean, that’s not why I ran after you. Bru–”

His lips shut you up. Soft, warm lips moved against yours, sweet and tenderly asking for permission. One of his hands slipped from your shoulder to your neck and the other one had took a hold of your chin, tugging it up slightly.
You straightened up and stepped towards him. You pulled him closer by his leather jacket before your hand dipped into his dark hair and wrapped around the hot skin of his neck.
The ground underneath your feet shook so blissfully, making both your knees weak.

Each others lips were the best things you two have ever tasted, sweeter than honey and you wanted more; you couldn’t get enough.
Jason’s lips were making your head spin and yours made him forget about all the shit floating in his head for once.
It was an instant addiction. You craved more from one another.

His hands travelled down your sides, slowly, leaving your skin warm and charged with electricity that made you shiver.
All this stupid body amour in the way.
You jump and wrapped your legs around him. Jason carried you to one of the desk that were standing around. The shattered glass creaked underneath his boots.

You trailed kisses along his jawline. Tiny gasps sneaked over his lips as you bit the skin on his neck just so lightly.
It sounded more melodic than music to you.
Jason tugged on your hair. You breathed in sharply and found his eyes which gleamed with passion and lust, seeming three shades darker.

He laid his forehead to yours while his hands held your thighs, rubbing tiny patterns. “Not here.” He whispered, breathing heavily. “We deserve better.” He looked around and a small grin tugged on his lips.

You nodded and he leaned back in, kissing you for some more moment before grabbing his helmet and putting it on. It was so hard to pull away, to not rip each others amour off right there.

You two stood at the edge now, trying to figure out where you were.
He was holding your hand almost as if he was scared you’d vanish or be ripped away from him if he didn’t.

“I think my apartment is close,” he said. “But this hotel is closer. I mean, would be quite funny to just walk in as (Y/A) and Red Hood.” He shrugged. “I already see the article in Gotham Gossip.” His eyes scrutinized your face and he smiled seeing how flushed you were.
He didn’t feel alone.

“That be a real punch in the face for them. They always try to make me and Dick work.” You picked your grappling gun up, handing it to him.

“I don’t ship that.” He pulled you close and aimed at the nearest roof. You laughed while being dragged through the air. He let go of you as your feet touched the roof and you ran jumping to another one as a voice echoed in your ears.

“Red Hood, (Y/A), you copy?”

Jason stopped and you crashed into him. He kept his hands around you. You shook your head, looking up at the red helmet.

“We can’t just– I didn’t know you were so bitter, (Y/N).” The smirk on his lips was audible.

“I’m not bitter, I just have a million other things on my mind now and every single one is you.”

“I– Same, but we have to.”

You narrowed your eyes at him and smile warmly. “You’re too pure, Jason.”

“We–” He was searching for the right words, how to phrase what he wanted to say best. “We have time, right?”

You get on your tiptoes and kiss the helmet where his mouth was supposed to be. This wasn’t just lust. There was so much more beneath the lust and longing. “Right,” you said, smiling foolishly.

“We copy, Batman. Sup?”

_____
While writing this, this scenario of someone trying to hug Jason and his chest taser is still on, popped up in my mind and made me laugh real hard.
Also, I guess I’ll do a part two.

Tokyo Ghoul vs Literature: Red Dragon - A Metaphor for Hide and Kaneki’s Relationship

Sorry about the delay in this one, I actually lost the book Red Dragon fro awhile and I had to go find it. Anyway this time around we’re gong to look at a character I don’t talk about as often, Hide. During one of the flashes to Hide’s room we’re presented with a brief collection of his interests as mostly a background element. While the various manga volumes do show how his tastes clash with Kaneki, the one that stands out the most in a Red Dragon poster.

Let’s explore the connection between the two underneath the cut.

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No Need to Worry

Enjoy this little idea that came to me about half an hour ago. 

Plot: H is grumpy and jealous but Y/N knows how to cheer him up.

Warnings: None. Might hint on some smut but not really. 

Gif of this angel isn’t mine.

“Joe is friendly, isn’t he?” 

A deep frown decorated his forehead as he murmured the words, the only give away that the question wasn’t meant lightly. For a moment I’d believed he hadn’t meant for me to hear at all.
I looked over at Harry who was sitting beside me in the back of a cab. His shoulders were tense and his lips set into a pout, his eyes focused out of the window and onto the streets and buildings rushing past us in the dark.
We were surrounded with silence as our cab driver didn’t seem to want music playing and anyway after a long and busy night Harry and I were glad to have some peace together. Although it didn’t feel too peaceful. 
Something was going on in his head and I was determined to find out what. However, Harry didn’t like prying. So I would have to be careful.
A smile tugged at my lips and I reached out to rest a hand on his knee. My fingers touched over the skin his ripped jeans left exposed and my smile widened when I noticed Harry trying to suppress a grin of his own when my thumb tickled him slightly. His hand batted at mine in a half-hearted attempt at disconnecting us. I giggled and let go.

“Joe is an alright person, yes,” I chose to answer. 

“Hm.” 

Harry shifted in his seat and I swallowed hard when now even the hint of a smile had disappeared from his features. I moved my hand to squeeze his thigh gently. 

“Are you okay, Harry?”

He nodded. When I kept staring at him in doubt he rolled his eyes. “M’fine, Y/N.”

“Okay.” 

Silently I unbuckled my seatbelt, careful not to let him notice. Then I leaned in closer and breathed a chaste kiss to his cheek, allowing myself momentarily to enjoy his warmth, his familiar smell and the softness of his skin, then I moved away again. My eyes focused onto the trees at the side of the roads we travelled on, all of them decorated with lights that made them shine. London really was one beautiful city. 

“I don’t like Joe,” Harry grumbled from beside me.

I let out a laugh. That didn’t take even half the time I had expected. “Oh really?” 

When I looked at my boyfriend his face was set into a hard mine and he breathed heavily. Both arms were crossed over his chest and one of his knees shook nervously. 

“He’s strange,” Harry explained, though his tone let me know that there was more. 

My body turned to his. I let my knees nudge his gently and lifted one hand to massage his left shoulder. My fingers felt his tense muscles and I sighed, unhappy he was so uncomfortable.
Harry looked at me briefly. 

“He kept touching you.” 

I cleared my throat, unsure how to reply. My head played through the events of the night, entering the restaurant, greeting all of Harry’s mates, sitting down with them and enjoying a meal with friends. It had been harmless, hadn’t it? Joe didn’t even sit close to me. 

“What gave you that impression?” I asked quietly. 

Harry hissed. Loud. 

“What didn’t give me that impression is what you should be asking!”

“Har-” I began but was quickly interrupted.

“He kissed your cheek when we came in, too properly and too long. I saw him squeeze your waist when he thought I didn’t see and I doubt he knows what his plate looked like, given that he stared at you as if you were his piece of meat he’d have tonight!”

A hand brushed over his forehead and only now did I notice that he was actually shaking. I was certain that if we weren’t in the confines of the backstreet of a car he’d explode in rage. His cheeks were flushed and his brows furrowed. 

“Harry,” I spoke soothingly, “He really didn’t seem that pushy to me.”

“Probably ‘cause you think he’s attractive.” 

Harry’s burning green orbs found mine and I shrunk back a little. “Now you’re being silly.”

He fell silent. My gaze was set on him with worry, trying to find out how to calm him when he would clearly not be swayed to believe into the innocence of his friend anytime soon.

“Harry,” I murmured, my hand moving to the back of his neck so I could scratch his hairline, “I love you.” 

“Great.”

I bit back a laugh. My fingers moved up and slightly pulled at his hair. Careful not to make too much noise so the driver wouldn’t be alarmed, I climbed closer to him so I could press myself into his side. The skin of his neck shuddered when my mouth found the shell of his ear.

“You’re the most handsome man I know,” I hushed and all seductiveness of my tone drained when I giggled. 

Harry whined and turned his head away, but he was clearly smiling, too. 

“Joe couldn’t possibly look as good when naked as you do,” I continued, feigning a moan, while my hand trailed up dangerously close to his crotch, “You always steal my breath, Harry. Make me crazy.”

It was when my teeth nibbled his earlobe that his entire body began to wind and turn, his smile and giggle now impossible to stay hidden. 

“Dammit Y/N. Can’t you just let me be pissed of at someone for once?” 

“Nope,” I laughed, “I like your smile far too much, my love.”

His eyes met mine, full of adoration and warmth and he leaned in, nudging his nose with my own. Harry’s arm found my back and he pulled me into him with a short yank. I giggled and embraced him tightly. He didn’t give me any time however, before his lips were attached to my own with needy kisses, almost as if we’d been apart for an undesired amount of time. I whimpered and secured my hold around his neck. His kisses had my tummy flutter and my skin’s heat increase. I could taste his desperation to be close and if we were anywhere else I might just have given in. 
But we were in a car. And a stranger could watch.

“Harry,” I urged, trying to disconnect his mouth from my own, “Wait.”

“M’impatient,” he groaned. 

“Oh I can tell,” I giggled, pushing his wandering hands away from my breasts, “But we’ve got to wait until we’re home.”

He pulled back at last, a pout on his pink lips and lust in his eyes. Harry could be such a boy at times. 
His body relaxed back into his seat and I drew back, only allowing my hand to stay interlocked with his. I let my thumb draw slow circles over his skin before bringing both of our hands up to kiss his. 

“We don’t have to hang out with Joe again if he made you uncomfortable,” I offered. 

Harry shrugged. “I would have thought you’re the one to find him uncomfortable.”

“I don’t,” I explained, “but he’s also not someone I desperately need in my life. Like I do you, for example.”

Harry smiled smugly.

I continued, “So it’d be fine with me.”

Now it was Harry’s turn to bring my hand to his mouth. My heart squeezed happily when he pressed a warm kiss to it. 

“Thank you,” he murmured, “for putting up with me. You know I hate going all caveman on you but something ‘bout him is just off to me.”

“I understand,” I assured him with a reassuring smile, “And a little caveman is quite nice every now and again.”

Hope you enjoyed that! 

Rest of my writings: 

http://harryimaginedstories.tumblr.com/post/144920695218/masterlist

All of my stories sorted out: 

http://harryimaginedstories.tumblr.com/post/156817411518/all-my-writing

Ed Sheeran - ERASER (lyrics) Extended F64 Version

[Verse 1]
I was born inside a small town, I’ve lost that state of mind
Learned to sing inside the Lord’s house, but stopped at the age of nine
I forget when I get awards now the wave I had to ride
The paving stones I played upon, they kept me on the grind
So blame it on the pain that blessed me with the life
Friends and family filled with envy when they should be filled with pride
And when the world’s against me is when I really come alive
And everyday that Satan tempts me, I try to take it in my stride
You know that I’ve got whisky with white lines and smoke in my lungs
I think life has got to the point I know without it’s no fun
I need to get in the right mind and clear myself up
Instead, I look in the mirror questioning what I’ve become
I guess it’s a stereotypical day for someone like me
Without a nine-to-five job or an uni degree
To be caught up in the trappings of the industry
They showed me the locked doors I find another use of key
And you’ll see

[Chorus 1]
I’m well aware of certain things that will destroy a man like me
But with that said give me one more, higher
Another one to take the sting away
I am happy on my own, so here I’ll stay
Save your lovin’ arms for a rainy day
And I’ll find comfort in my pain
Eraser

[Verse 2]
I used to think that nothing could be better than touring the world with my songs
I chased the pictured perfect life, I think they painted it wrong
I think that money is the root of evil and fame is hell
Relationships and hearts you fixed, they break as well
And ain’t nobody wanna see you down in the dumps
Because you’re living your dream, man, this shit should be fun
Please know that I’m not trying to preach like I’m Reverend Run
I beg you, don’t be disappointed with the man I’ve become
Our conversations with my father on the A14
Age twelve telling me I’ve gotta chase those dreams
Now I’m playing for the people, dad, and they know me
With my beat and small guitar wearing the same old jeans
Wembley Stadium crowd two hundred and forty thou
I may have grown up but I hope that Damien’s proud
And to the next generation, inspiration’s allowed
The world may be filled with hate but keep erasing it now
Somehow

[Chorus 2]
I’m well aware of certain things that will befall a man like me
But with that said give me one more, higher
Another one to take the sting away
I am not beyond my own, so here I’ll stay
Save your lovin arms for a rainy day
And I’ll find comfort in my pain
Eraser
And I’ll find comfort in my pain
Eraser
And I’ll find comfort in my pain
Eraser

[Verse 3]
I woke up this morning lookin’ in the mirror
Thinkin’ to myself that I should probably be thinner
The industry told me to look like them
But I found my happiness in fried food for my dinner
I wish that she could have been my first time
And I wish that I’d never took that first line
And I wish that every word in this verse rhymed
But forgive me if it doesn’t
I wish that I could make peace with my older cousin
I wish he didn’t think that it was me when it wasn’t
I wish I didn’t love it when I’m high and my face feels buzzin’
And the taste stays underneath my tongue
Wish that I had known what to do as a youngling
Wish I hadn’t dropped out of school and missed every single party
With that hardly matters now, man, does it?
Wish I had an answer to everything, but fuck it
I wish creatin’ art didn’t come with a budget
But while we’re on the subject
I wish my private life would have never gone public
But that’s the sacrifice that we make
Spendin’ my whole time high livin’ life away

[Chorus 3]
Singin’ this is how we’re livin’ down here
Sittin’ on the edge, lookin’ out without fear
Yeah, we got drama but you know we don’t care
I wanna see you sing it, put your hands in the air, one wish
I’m singin’ this is how we’re livin’ down here
Sittin’ on the edge, lookin’ out without fear
Yeah, we got drama but you know we don’t care
I wanna see you sing it, put your hands in the air, one wish

[Verse 4]
I wish my family and friends they stay healthy
I wish that love was a currency and the whole world was wealthy
I found myself late night wishin’ on a star
Everyday I wish I’d never broken a heart, uh
And I wish I’d never run to
Every woman that I loved that kept my life and what it’s come to
I wish I was the role model you looked up to
If I told my fans the things I did they’d say, “Fuck you”
I wish I was home more
I wish my teens could see the kids on the birthdays, but yo, we’re on tour
And I wish I’d grow more, wish I told more
People that I love ‘em but it’s in the music that I’m known for
And I wish he never got cancer
And if I smoke a pack a day, well, does that make me a wanker?
Oh yes, I guess it does, and we’re still stressin’ 'cause
Every day this shit gets the best of us
Usin’ my balance on eraser blades
Spendin’ my whole time high wishing life would wait

[Chorus 3]
Singin’ this is how we’re livin’ down here
Sittin’ on the edge, lookin’ out without fear
Yeah, we got drama but you know we don’t care
I wanna see you sing it, put your hands in the air, one wish
I’m singin’ this is how we’re livin’ down here
Sittin’ on the edge, lookin’ out without fear
Yeah, we got drama but you know we don’t care
I wanna see you sing it, put your hands in the air, one wish

[Verse 5]
I’m using jumpers for goalposts, cigarettes for throat cold
Mum sayin’, “Don’t smoke,” no, I don’t listen, I got
Love for a ghost note, shows on the gold coast
People that I don’t know share the same vision
I find truth in the hard times and words that aren’t mine
Tryin’ to find a love with a compatible star sign
Sometimes I can’t write, sentences can’t rhyme
Starin’ at my notepad quick, I’m tryin’ to find mine
Shit, quick before I hit it again
Surrounded in the industry by all these ignorant men
And who knew that I’d be paid just to pick up a pen
Just let me hit the studio when we can rip it again
I’m a competitive dick, with an adrenaline kick
My daddy told me work hard and you can never be shit
I’ve seen all my heroes dethroned except my dad
Set back here reminiscing 'bout the times we had
One wish


(x)

I respect the opinion of my elders, but just an open query about the charges brought against my generation:

For not working hard enough: where is the evidence. When we were younger you told us you started from a small job and climbed your way to the top. When we are flipping burgers it’s because we didn’t apply ourselves. When you did it, it was shouldering the future by suffering in the present. When we ask for the money to buy bread, it is shameful. When others went on strike in the name of labor conditions, it was heroic. When we ask for more, we never deserve it. So how did you get here? Did you never sit up and demand the world give you what was rightfully yours? How hard working is hard enough?

We are illerate, use slang instead of language, shun poetry: did I just imagine the “rad” bloom of the 70’s? Is it because you can’t catch our tongues in your hands? Is it because our poetry is now published beyond books, beyond the control of one voice, beyond you? That our language doesn’t need your approval to evolve? When you drew political pictures of us asking how to turn a book on, you laughed at our ignorance. When the tables turned, when we were shown to be the most literate and well-read generation on record, you scratched the mirror. You said it was our lazy nature. A body rotting. Because we read trash, or we read into things, or we write loudly and it bothers you. Why does it bother you?

School is too easy: What was it like going to school without being worried about a shooting? Did you ever cower like we have, like I did, like our friends, crying muffled in your hands because you love your parents and now have no time to tell them? What was it like, dear, in a world where my standardized testing scores would have broken your curve and I didn’t even get perfect. What part is the easy part. Is it the highest recorded level of anxiety? Is it the rising teenage suicide rates? Is it the eating disorders, body dismorphia, self harm, self destruction? Tell me, have you seen - there’s a show called “Are you Smarter Than A 5th Grader.” It’s very funny. In it, bright young kids show adults that what we’re learning didn’t even exist in common knowledge while they were in school. Tell me. If you were up against our 5th grade curriculum, who would win? No, I’m sure you’re fine. You learned it all in high school.

We want too many free things: What was it like to want for nothing? What was it like to have a certainty that hard work leads to a bright future. What was it like imagining being rich instead of imagining just being rich enough to eat good food. What was it like, not being worried that a broken leg would cost you an entire apartment? Do you know they hate us so much they would rather see us die than bring down the price of an EpiPen. And since I know you love the idea of us abusing the system, tell me, where do I go to expose the lie about my life-threatening allergy? How do I fake it, because I’d like to opt out of it, and while I’m at it my mental illness, and while I’m at it can you take my chronic pain please. And since I know that the answer is to go to school and get a degree so I can be worthy of not dying, just another question: are you aware fifty thousand dollars a year is equivalent to a house. I could buy a house instead of going to college. Since you’re good at this, while we’re talking, I have two siblings. Which of the three of us gets the money? Go on. Look at us. Choose. Who goes hungry?

We’re entitled: yes, please, give me a deed, give me land, give me better than winning the lottery. What I’m entitled to is life, liberty and the pursuit of profit, am I not? So where are any of the above? Where did the jobs go? Why do you jail people for small crimes but free the criminals? And my life? This life? I end where my body begins, I am cut off from the nation’s decisions about what I can put in or take out of me. And me? I’m safe because I’m white-passing. Don’t the bodies pile up? Aren’t we entitled to justice? Aren’t we entitled to an answer? A response from the government? More than just speeches about how riots won’t solve things? Aren’t we entitled to a fair trial? To freedom of speech? Was it not our common fathers who fought for these things?

We’re lazy: Where? Who has the money? I’ve been working since I was 12, am I just an anomaly? Or do you just ignore those who don’t fit your story? All those student-run engineering projects that are changing history. All those protests. The art world, shifting. All these adults who demand more - do they count as lazy or as entitled? What were you doing at our age? Did it really look all that different?

We don’t listen to real music, don’t like real art, are loud, are too busy partying: We changed and you didn’t keep up. Is that’s what’s so startling?

We are sucked up into the Internet, wouldn’t drop the phone if the apocalypse was happening: my phone has my family on the other end of it. Do you not save pictures from a burning building? Do you really care so little for others you’d stick to the old ways entirely instead of texting? Oh sure, yes, a letter is pretty, I love them. But just asking for a friend: What do I do in an emergency with only a pencil. And I don’t mean to downsize the problem because I mean it’s not like you took Polaroids of your friends at sunset - right? - and it’s definitely wrong of us to want memories of a really nice night, but, just curious, did you post that opinion on the Internet? Was seeing others on the Web what made you upset? Maybe - this is just a crazy idea that popped up into my head - you should go take a walk, go outside, disconnect.

We do everything different: Yes. Because we were raised on the cusp of the next great Renaissance. We are in somewhere new, a galaxy of expansion that doesn’t rely on you. That knows more than you do. That doesn’t function the way you expect it to. How rose-colored is the past to you? The place where you erase AIDS and drug abuse in an effort to tell us we are a terrible youth. Where you don’t talk about the marches that happened around you. How painted do you picture it, simply because you had to physically look in a book to learn something new? How do you turn your eyes to a world where war sits on our necks, our earth melts, our populations swell, our people starve, and we are powerless in it all - and say, “It’s your fault.”

It’s our fault. The housing market, somehow related to our obsessive need for safe spaces, I’m sure, because our dreams no longer lie in yards but rather something big enough for at least a bed, and hopefully with tasteful curtains, and you have no idea what a safe space is. The certain failure of the two-party political system, maybe somehow due to our political correctness - we are, after all, rude enough to never open doors for old ladies or just let you be racist - how we controlled the media, how our desires drove this. Our request for trigger warnings and correct pronouns is a burden, and I see that now, because our special snowflake syndrome really does hurt you as a person; while your ongoing use of torture in corrective therapy is only a problem if you’re actually looking. You’re so right about so many things. When you beat us to correct us, it’s your child and it’s your right; when it’s our bodies we ask to have rights over - well, what did we expect? It’s our fault. The crushing debt, the companies that own our government, the privatization of prisons, the unrightful searches, the human trafficking and abuse of sex workers, the gun violence, the pharmaceutical industries which control our doctor’s choices, the climate change you only just started to admit is happening, the extinction of species worldwide - we are responsible for both pollution and poaching, the lead in our water, the death in our streets. So what do you get from it? From dismissing us? From quitting on us before the race begins? From forgetting who exactly raised us kids?

Now, I was told that the problem is that we too often point to bigotry. That we hide behind pointing out your sexist comments instead of realizing the truth your words wrought. I was told we are so focused on our victories, of a world that rallied for marriage equality, for gender expression, for the safety of survivors, for a healing nation - we call out instead of calling on. So I’m calling on you, Generation X kids. Here’s your free one. No bigotry spoken of. So speak. Explain what exactly you mean.

I get it. We asked for a country. The land is borrowed from your children, they tell me.

Now why are you so afraid when we show up and start collecting?

Drarry:

Harry felt Malfoy’s breath on his lips as they came together over the bottle, hands firmly planted on the floor as though they each needed their familiar soil, refusing to cross into enemy territory.

Except that Malfoy no longer felt like his enemy.

Malfoy felt inevitable.

It’s Harry and Draco’s eighth year, the Houses have been all but demolished in favor of unity, and they’re being forced to room together. How ever will they cope?

No strings…easy. Right? Unless you’re Draco Malfoy and you’re having sex with Harry Potter.

Harry returns to Hogwarts for his 8th year, determined not to let Malfoy get to him. But when the snarky teasing starts up again, Harry finds that returning the jibes with compliments has a far more interesting outcome.

Larry:

The year is groovy 1973, and eighteen-year-old Louis Tomlinson is perhaps the gayest teen to ever grace the gloomy, hateful town of Fortwright. Would be fine if he wasn’t so viciously bullied at both home and school for such a “harmful” sexual preference.

After discovering the mansion was less abandoned than he’d thought, he’s now left with the most riveting mystery of a lifetime; every new finding leaving him with more questions. Who is this elusive owner, and why won’t they show themselves? Why is there a set of journals in the same handwriting that span over centuries? Why in the world is there a padlock on the refrigerator…and who the hell is Alexander?

au where harry and louis are solo artists and they’re not exactly friends per se but they’re friendly, know each other from industry parties and things like that and there’s always been this weird unspoken sexual tension between them and louis’ always kinda confused bc isn’t harry the biggest ladies’ man in the industry

Keep reading

To the girl I’ll one day marry,

I’m 12 years old right now and I hope that one day I get to read this letter to you. I’m snuggled in my bed, my mind racing with so many different questions. For example, what’s your name? Are you older than me? Younger? How did we meet? I hope we didn’t meet at school. That would suck.

Anyways, I know, even now, that I am really  not the ideal person to be with. I have a lot of faults you see, but I hope that you can see that I’ve really tried hard to change those parts of me. I’m not the smartest person and I know I can be more than a handful at times, so please bear with me. I am a work-in-progress, even years into the day that I read this to you.

I want you to know, that even now, I’m already thinking of the many ways I can love you. I mean it. We’re engaged, soon to be wives and sharing eternity together. Know that I’ll spend all of my time ensuring that you are happy and taken care of.

Even though we haven’t met yet, I already know that you are the most wonderful girl on the whole planet. You’re probably sarcastic, able to understand my jokes, and share my passions and love for books. Maybe you like to draw or paint or do artistic things…that would be cool, maybe you can teach me how to do artistic stuff. But don’t worry, if you can’t, I know I’ll still love you. I hope we have the same taste in music because it would be horrible to live a life with sucky music.

Are you an honest person? Do you like to lie to people? Tell you a secret that maybe you haven’t known yet, I’m not the most honest person. I find pleasure in tricking people. I hope you’re nice but not too nice. I know for a fact that you’re smart. I tend to exist in a different realm of life from people and I know you understand that.

Hmm…I hope that you love me the most of all. It would be amazing to meet you. It would be my greatest pleasure to love you. To build a life and a future with you. Know that even now, I already do love you. Know that you are amazing, loved, appreciated. That your company and all your efforts are enjoyed and taken notice of. I’ll always be there for you the same way I know you’ll always be there for me. I love you. I know I do.

Your future wife.

P.S How does a snake for a pet sound? I’ve been asking for one since I was seven.
P.P.S Blue. I hope our house is blue. Or any neutral colour.

—  Little Poet ~ My 12 year old self did something gay.

For @babyklance :) 

Keith’s arms are pumping at his side as he sprints up and down the length of the training room. He finds it important to run daily to maintain his stamina because he never knows when he’s going to be put in a position where he’s left to flee without Red’s assistance.

Plus, he likes running. It feels like a release, like he’s loosening tight limbs after a fitful night of sleep. Sleep has never come easy for him, and it seems to only be getting worse while in space. His circadian rhythm is gone, and he can’t find it not matter how hard he tries. Time just moves differently in space, but he’s okay. He’s learning to adapt with little sleep; it’s not like it’s a new concept to him.

When he goes to cut a sharp turn to start back down the length of the room, he stumbles and falls to his knee. Nothing new, he’s fallen before. Only, this time it’s different. He hears a faint cracking sound that’s followed by a sharp, piercing pain that shoots all across his knee.

Gasping, he rolls onto his side, clutching his throbbing knee with both hands as his vision wavers in and out of focus. His heart is thumping loudly in his ears, making the string of curses slipping from his tongue sound muffled and distant.

In a brief bout of panic, Coran’s words from a few days ago slip across his mind.

“Everyone try not to get hurt, okay? The pods are due for a heavy maintenance check due to faulty codes running back to our systems.”

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

I adore your work! It's amazing. If you're still taking requests, could you do something where Betty gets a little tipsy and accidentally admits she likes juggie?? Is that dumb??? Lol

These ones are so fun to write! Thanks so much!
***
Okay.

Okay, this wasn’t so bad. She kind of liked this.

Looking into Veronica’s expectant eyes, Betty smiled reaching for the brown, bubbly alcohol.

Veronica smiled

“Oh hell yeah! Betty Cooper slaying your dragons, one by one!”

The cold foamy liquid slid down her throat instantly warming her body from the inside out.

It didn’t taste bad, but it was not what she expected beer to taste like at all, it was a little too ..sour?

This wasn’t something Betty did on the regular, going out to wild parties and drinking with her best friends, but today had been a really rough day.

She needed this.

Closing her eyes and leaning against the counter of the blossoms kitchen, she could remember exactly what had put her in this mood .

Ginger Lopez and jughead jones.

That girl had been all over the mysterious moody boy and he just… let it happen. He didn’t try and stop her, he didn’t shove her away when she placed her hands all over his biceps, he didn’t even yell at her when she stole one of his fries at lunch, And in jugheads world? she assumed that was the closest he came to flirting.

So yeah she was frustrated, couldn’t he see how completely head over heels she was for him? She thought she was being obvious, always asking him to pops, running her hands through her hair, she even bought chocolate scented lip gloss, it was his favorite smell after all. But no. nothing. Instead he was gonna end up falling for ginger Lopez and all her fake lipped, leopard wearing glory.

She didn’t have anything against the highlighted brunette, sure she had filed a petition to get her kicked out of seventh grade for wearing a real fur coat, but that was for the animals, not for her. None the less the girl didn’t bother her.

But now.. Betty couldn’t stand to look at her.

She always met Jughead after school to walk home, unfortunately for her she caught him leaning against the bike racks talking to none other than the girl in question. She was batting her false lashes at him and practically devouring him with her eyes. The worst part of it all? He was smiling back at her. Needless to say, Betty turned right around, and made the walk home on her own today.

Pulling her phone out she noticed the four missed texts from Jughead

JUGGIE: where are you? Burgers at pops? My treat.

JUGGIE: missed you after school, did you have to stay after? Meet up later?

JUGGIE: Ron said you were going to the blossoms tonight, safe idea? Not really your scene.

JUGGIE: hello?

Slamming her phone shut, she reached for another beer, having already downed two she could definitely feel the effect.

So Jughead didn’t want her? Fine. She was gonna have fun tonight, ginger could have him for all she cared.

Suddenly Kevin was by her side, handing her a bubbly pink wine cooler.

She grabbed it quickly taking a sip.

Oh that was good. Finishing it in less than a minute she reached for his, before he pulled it away

“Down girl, the night is young! Let’s dance!”

Forty minutes later , four more wine coolers and one steamy dance with Veronica, Betty was feeling more than a little wobbly.

As she made her way to the side of the room, she felt a hand grip her wrist, steadying her.

Whipping around she came nose to nose with jughead jones.

“Oh great, just the person I didn’t want to see.” She groaned.

Hurt flashed in his eyes for a quick second before it was replaced by anger, tugging her along he shouted over the music

“Come on we’re leaving.”

Ripping her wrist free , she shot him a glare

“I’m not going anywhere! I’m having fun.” She smiled doing a twirl.

He sighed

“Fine have it your way.” Suddenly she was up and over jugheads shoulder, his hand on the back of her thighs holding her skirt down.

“WHAT?! PUT ME DOWN! FORSYTHE JONES! PUT ME DOWN!”

Finally she felt the cool breeze hit her face, and her feet touched the ground.

“Don’t make this difficult, we’re going home. Arch is driving Ronnie, but I figured we’d walk, you could use the air, maybe it’ll sober you up.” He looked dissapointed.

“Hey! You don’t get to look at me like that, you’re just a silly boy, a stupid silly boy.” She slurred

He shook his head, the confusion evident in his eyes
“Drunk words are sober thoughts and all that, so why don’t you tell me why you’re so upset that you had to go get drunk?”

She narrowed her eyes, wobbling a little in the pavement

“Like you don’t know, why are you even here juggie. I assumed you’d be cuddling your girlfriend right now.”

His eyes widened comically
“ my girlfriend?”

“Oh ginger, I love how your delicious lips taste just like plastic, oh that’s right they are plastic! Let me cuddly you in your rabbit coat. She’s an animal killer, did you know that juggie? I love animals, I would never wear one But you like her instead of me.” She pouted ,as he went to catch her before she fell

“Woah what are you even talking about? Ginger Lopez? You think I like ginger Lopez? Maybe you’re more drunk than I thought.” He gripped her by the shoulders

“Yes I am drunk. Yes I am very drunk. Am I lying? No. every one can see it Jughead, it’s fine I’ll just stare it you from afar like I’ve been doing for five months, you don’t even notice, you don’t even notice me.” She was crying now and every piece of jugheads heart broke, he grabbed her face, Hiding his wince at the alcohol on her breath

“I notice you bets, I notice everything about you.”

She leaned into his palm

“If you noticed you would have known, I was in love with you.”

His heart leapt out of his chest.

“You’re drunk.”

“Drunk words , sober thoughts and all that” she giggled.

He smiled softly

He loved her more than anything but he was not about to have this conversation, with the very tipsy blonde in front of him

“I love you too Betty, and we will discuss this further in the morning, when you’re head is throbbing and you want to bury your self in your bed forever. And that is your punishment.”

She sighed

“Ay ay captain!”

He rolled his eyes reaching for her hand.

It was gonna be a long night

Stay Quiet

“Hey, Dean.” Castiel looked up from his paper and cup of coffee when Dean stumbled into the kitchen, still groggy from another late night working. “Can I get you some breakfast?”

Dean shook his head and went straight to the coffee pot. He poured himself a cup and doctored it to his liking before taking a seat next to Cas. He held the hot mug tightly in both hands, venturing a small sip before committing to a bigger one.

“You came in late.” Cas said. Dean didn’t acknowledge him at all, and Cas had to suppress a laugh. Fuckin’ ray of sunshine in the morning.

“Did you have a good time with Sam?”

Dean shrugged and drank more coffee.

“I’m going in for a meeting this morning, but I might be home early. Everyone’s coming for movie night tonight.”

That caught a smile at least. Castiel got up and put his dishes in the sink and then grabbed his bag by the door. Dean watched him the whole way and Cas came back to kiss him. “I love you. Text if you need anything?”

Dean nodded and laid his head on the table. Cas rubbed his back and leaned down to kiss him again, just behind the ear. “Maybe a nap?” he whispered and kissed him again before he had to go.

******************

“I don’t know why we even wasted the time on this case.” Castiel complained to Charlie as he tossed folders onto the looming stack on his desk. .

“At least they paid us for it?”

“But they essentially voted to continue alienating their customers. I don’t understand-” Castiel cut himself off and took a deep breath. “I want a better screening process. I don’t like putting my time into people who don’t actually care about their customers.”

“I know. I’ll look at the interview process and see what we can change.” Charlie said. She started out of Castiel’s office, but he spoke just as she started to close the door.

“You’re still coming tonight, right?”

Charlie popped her head back in. “Would I miss a Friday night movie?”

“Good. Dean is always happy to see you.”

Charlie nodded and cleared her throat. “So…. any progress? With Dean?”

Castiel turned his eyes back to his computer screen. This question. It was the one he hated the most and the one most frequently asked by everyone but Sam and Jess.

“He’s doing really well. He’s working with a gallery again, so he’s really happy about that.”

Charlie nodded, but didn’t push further. Cas knew she would evaluate for herself when she saw Dean that evening.

“Okay. He seems like he’s in a good place the last few times I’ve been over.”

Castiel nodded. “He is. You look at the interview stuff and I’ll close out this case, okay?”

“Sure thing.” She said, and closed the door behind her.

If someone had told Cas right after the incident that their lives would change and be better for it, he would have punched them right in the face. No shit, it changed. There was the surgery to remove the ruptured spleen and then another to put his arm back together and then physical therapy that kept him in the hospital for a few weeks. They were managing it all well, but when the doctors concluded that the loss of Dean’s speech was due to the psychological trauma and not physical injury, Cas hadn’t known what to do with that information. He knew vaguely that this had happened to Dean before, but not the details. In the meeting with the doctor and the therapist Sam and Bobby tried to reconstruct what they knew- Dean had gone three months without speaking after witnessing his mother’s death in a house fire, and almost six months after his father died in an accident that almost killed a teenage Dean and Sam as well. A nearly fatal mugging certainly fit the pattern of trauma induced selective mutism that Dean had adopted.

But now, five months in and all of his physical injuries healed, Dean and Cas had adopted a second language that only they spoke. When they were both home it was quiet. Dean no longer filled empty space with conversation, and Cas had never felt the need to in the first place. Instead they sat close and conversed through touch and an elaborate use of eye expressions. Before the incident Sam has called it eye fucking, but now it was conversation.

It was amazing how much they could say to each other now with just a look. Castiel already had three years of practice in reading Dean’s expressions, but now he was an expert. For the first few months he found himself always trying to find any hint of discomfort or stress in Dean’s face, but now he could read most everything if Dean didn’t close himself off during his depressive days.

Castiel opened files and sorted papers, consulting his computer a few times, but ultimately after several minutes had to admit to himself that he was just moving things around without actually accomplishing anything. It was okay to take a break, right? He stood and stretched, and almost on cue his phone buzzed with a text from Dean.

Going out tonight instead of movie

Everyone is already planning to come to our place.

They are coming with us. Dinner

Everyone?

Yes

Do I need to make a reservation?

Sam did

Okay. I will be home soon. Did you catch a nap?

I’m working

Cas sat back down in his chair. He needed to work too, but he just couldn’t think. After looking around at the stacks he’d made earlier, he made a deal with himself to leave as soon as he closed out the case.

Keep reading

And I know that my poetry usually makes no sense, it’s a thing called love that compels us to keep reading. Would you care to know why my favorite color is red? I used to have a friend named Kevin and it was his favorite color. He was the flamboyant and most colorful of us in the group. Popular with the ladies and loyal to his friends. I was the one in the backseat laughing to their thoughts when I really had none of my own. Maybe that’s why I enjoy writing so much. Maybe that’s why I love the color red. He painted his room red once, I remember things changing right around then. The drugs were getting a little heavier even with his teenage youth, the drugs will rip right through you. Painkillers will kill your emotions, you don’t want to feel a thing. I can relate to Kevin, I fucking love painkillers too. I shut myself off from everyone, but occasionally I enjoy the company. I’m awkward and my thoughts are kinda dim, so I always liked being around him. Are you familiar with the literary term foil? A foil is a character who contrasts with another character in order to highlight particular qualities of the other character. I feel like he was like that for me. I always saw myself as a little too blue, I wanted to be something worth loving, I wanted to be a little more like him, I want to kiss life into everything, I wanted to live, I wanted to be more than a shadow of a group of peers that did drugs and listened to melancholy and nostalgic techno after school hours. I don’t know how he’s doing or what he’s up to. The last thing I heard was he’s into needles now. Rumors plague this tiny town, we were raised from imperfections and we grew up to taste cigarettes that numb our gums. He had the kind of laugh that made you want to be his friend. It’s funny though, none of my friends initially liked me. Until they got to know me, empty and hollow, a sponge– the one who listened to the problems, never really any of my own. I get lost in my thoughts, I know. My poetry is scattered, I know. I don’t convey structure or rhymes, I don’t hide in between the rules. My words are more scribbles than they are truly masterpieces. Would you like to know why I write? I used to know someone that said the shoreline was like a bed and naps were always possible– she waited there everyday for inspiration. She would tell me the tiny stories inside of her head that had nowhere to go, it’s funny. I never really listened to her, I just enjoyed the company of love and to be loved. Love, what is it? When I wrote my first poem for her, I didn’t know where it came from or why I wanted to write it. I just knew that I had to write it. It had to be done. I had to read it to her. Let me tell you, if your first poem was a love poem, it was probably the most cringe thing you’ve ever created. Ever. Period. But still, I loved it. It was bad, but it had feelings. You always miss the feeling more than you do the person and that’s the saddest thing I’ve ever had to realize. It really shouldn’t be, but it is. You never really understand your mistakes until it’s just you. You only want them back when you’re alone. It’s been so long, I don’t keep track of the days anymore. Hell, she’s married now. I shouldn’t be writing this. She’s going to read it anyway. It doesn’t matter at this point. I guess she left poetry inside of these palms for good measure, she loved attention. A lot of it. The more, the better. Maybe I stopped paying attention. Maybe I got too comfortable. Maybe that’s why I love writing poetry, in a way it just means that I still love her. Lost kids who didn’t know how to love, another foil. You know, I never really liked to read books until I met her. She had a smile made from your doggy eared books, you know, your favorite line you always had to reread or quote during a conversation. She had the kind of laugh that made you want to get in on the joke even though you were the one telling it. I loved that laugh almost as much as I loved Kevin’s. I don’t talk to these two anymore, I don’t remember much about the memories, only the feelings that they left. You can’t find loyalty amongst pill users, they always use. Trust me, I know. I’ve been swearing off painkillers for months. You won’t find a love like that again because every relationship is unique in its own way. You can’t recreate the old flames with your new ones. You need to move on. I haven’t really lived life. Maybe you’re just like me. Maybe you’re stuck at a job that you don’t like and maybe life just doesn’t make much sense. So you blackhole more drugs to ease the disaster that is you. Nothing hurts, you just don’t want to remember anything that might hurt– right? It really shouldn’t be, but it is. I listen to music more often than I converse with people. Music influences my soul in a way that people cannot. I just turned 24, but I’m still a little confused about who I am. Does any 24 year old have their shit figured out? Do you ever feel like your dreams and aspirations are slowly dying? I’ve always felt like an old man. I’m boring and I don’t dance too much, the only thing good about me is my writing. It’s the only thing I’m half decent at, but I hate that too. I don’t answer anonymous questions anymore because I feel like my thoughts aren’t good enough. How can I help you if I can’t even help myself? Red rose petal poetry pressed onto the stove kind of writing– it really shouldn’t hurt, but it does. I’ll always miss the days when things were simpler. I didn’t care as much. I didn’t smoke as much. I didn’t think as much. It was just simple. No hard facts, just some stupid kids getting high behind a dark house and running into ghosts in every room. No broken hearts, just some teenagers who wanted to figure love out with a knife in hand waiting to hug each other. I’ll pry the knife real slow and we’ll call it love kind of love, ain’t it love? I love you doesn’t even sound right anymore, so I’ll say nothing. I miss my old friends, but we’ve changed so much– I wonder if they’ll even recognize me. My life is insignificant and minuscule, but we must all seek to find our purpose, to bring meaning to the clutter, and to add more fire to the chaos that is life. I don’t want to die angry, I want to die with a smile. You don’t get to do anything twice, you don’t get to correct your mistakes– so make enough for your self-reflection drunk nights. You don’t get to unlove people, so pick the right ones to fall in love with– don’t worry, you won’t need to remember all of their names, just the feelings. You don’t get to unfriend people, they’ll always be a part of you. A part of who you are. A part of who you will come to be. I keep slipping into the darkest parts of my mind and call it a life. I’ve been reading this book and it told me to dig deep. Why do I write? Why do I enjoy the burn of love? Over a few thousand poems, but 99.9 percent are indeed about love. Why do you want this kind of life? Well, darling– These words are as much yours as they are mine.
—  zero point one
Sleepless Nights, touken headcanon/mini-fic

Summary: It’s their first time sleeping together on the same bed and Kaneki can’t take his hands off Touka.

I totally hate this, it looked so much better inside my head, my inspiration sucks—i’m super tired right now& i can’t speak proper english today, but i really wanted to take this idea off my head AAAAND give this to @yorozuya-ken-chan as her birthday gift 😭 ♡ I LOVE YOU ANITA, this is so crappy, i’m so sorry -sobs- i promise i’ll write you something 2369726 better next time, WAIT FOR ME🙏 (the only good thing about this is the ending, huehue, jon&ygritte hints)

i wanted to make this a smut but i really feel like the words aren’t coming to my head today, so this is just… a bit lime? not even a lime 😂  shame on me.. anyway, take this more like a lazy headcanon instead of a well-written fic *sobs* i’ll bring good smut soon.. I promise, ANITA DESERVES BETTER ✨

Preview

“Kaneki.”

“Y-Yes?” he stammers.

“If you want me to sleep with you in your room, just say it.”

He’s shaking.

“Oh, w-well…”

“Do you?”

He swallows.

“I-I mean, if you ever feel col—“

Touka sighs.

“Fine. I’ll sleep with you tonight then.”

Keep reading