of all the awkward moments

Jihyun Kim/V x MC Headcanons

I have no explanation for this, other than I’m hopelessly in love with Jihyun Kim and I really wanted to do this as the self-indulgent trash that I am. I hope those of you that read it enjoy it, and that I’ve done him justice. Under the cut because this became way longer than I thought it would be;;;

Also note: Mild Good End V route spoilers


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2

would you go with me to the capital? the proposal slides forward, almost slipping between lexa’s lips, as she watches clarke.

no, it’s still doesn’t sound as it should. too trite and desperate. lexa wants to say exactly the right thing when she lets clarke know she wants to show her polis. show her the marketplace that teems with life, the throne room where she’s spent so much of her time as a young adult, the magnificence of the stars from the highest levels of the tower. clarke should know the beauty of these things – lexa has a feeling she’s one of the only people who would appreciate them as much as her.

you should come with me to the capital.

that’s better. it lacks the open-ended nature and ambiguity of a question, but is still not a demand. it’s a simple statement of feeling that leaves clarke the freedom to choose.

yet lexa still doesn’t allow the words to tumble from her mouth, remembering the kiss they shared and the way clarke had pulled away. needing time…what if she needed space, as well?

she almost laughs at herself as she imagines telling her generals that, though she barely bats an eye at the prospect of war, the great heda is rendered faint-feeling and dry-throated at the prospect of asking a cute woman to travel with her.

they wouldn’t understand that bearing her heart to clarke griffin is the scariest challenge she will ever face.

6

She shouldn’t be asleep. She’ll just get more depressed if she’s asleep. What she needs is some kind of hobby. She needs to get out of the house, she needs to exercise.

7

If only DA characters interacted with you if you were literally staring at their faces for more than one minute. -sighs forever- 

Hit the Books

Summary: jealousy is no one’s friend || prof!//college au

Pairing: professor stan & evans // evanstan x reader

Word Count: 1.2k

Warnings: flirting, sexual innuendos

A/N: uhhhh there might be a part 2? if y’all want it? let me know


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A mystery herself

A/N: Heeey so I know it’s been a while since I’ve posted any writing so I’m very nervous about this one. It’s my first Jughead imagine ever, so I hope you like it and if you’d want a part 2, let me know. I already have some idea for a continuation ;)

Warnings: none

Word count: 2.825 


Originally posted by riverrdxle

She walked in like a midsummer breeze, swaying and changing the course of everything under the sun. She perturbed the usually sober times of Riverdale.

And it annoyed Jughead Jones to no end.


(Y/N) didn’t feel good. Her bitter nerves slowly morphed into a nauseous tension which took over her stomach. From the first moment she placed her foot onto the grounds of her new school, the air seemed to change drastically. And she wasn’t the only one who seemed to notice the thick, static-like uneasiness in the air. They all stared at her. Every single pair of eyes fixed her face, supposedly searching for a familiar feature.

Did everybody know everybody in this damn village?

Apparently so.

(Y/N) tried to avoid direct eye contact, although she kept her head high as she walked.

But as she reached the backyard of Riverdale High, her breath hitched in her throat. Releasing a strangled huff as she came to a sudden stop, she gripped the strip of her bag tighter between her long, shaky fingers and replaced it further on her shoulder. A sea of students was laying before her frozen figure, hundreds of eyes piercing her skull and rummaging through her mind.

(Y/N) sighed deeply and swallowed the tight lump in her throat, before urging her unsteady feet to move forward, slicing right through the yard filled with students. She held a confident pace in her step, although the heart burned by a mocking fire threatened to burst out of her chest at any moment.  

It was going to be a long day.


She didn’t expect to find herself into such a place so soon. She didn’t expect to place a single foot inside it at all, actually.

(Y/N) stood in the doorway of what seemed to be a fast food. Pop’s was filled with students which crowded the booths around the powerfully lit dine. Their loud voices travelled across the room, hitting walls and piercing (Y/N)’s ears. It was all too noisy and crowded in there for her liking, and if wasn’t for the frozen water droplets which bit at her exposed skin, she wouldn’t have been there in the first place. Not now, at least. But there was no other choice, was it?

She stole a quick glance outside and felt her eyebrows lower, urging her lids to shield her eyes more than they already had. A sharp breath passed her lips and she adjusted the strip of her bag on her shoulder once again, before scanning the room rapidly.

A mild grimace crossed her features as she acknowledged the only free spot in the entire room. It was an isolated booth, occupied by a boy she recognised briefly. A picture of their eyes connecting during classes flashed through her brain.

Lonely, raven locks hanged loosely across his forehead, narrowed eyes mirrored the shining words written on the screen of his laptop and lips pressed together tightly into a straight line.

And, of course, a grey beanie covered his head, shielding him and making him impossible to ignore at the same time.

Jughead Jones.

(Y/N) was going to sit next to Jughead Jones.

Gathering the last bit of courage in her body, (Y/N) approached his table sheepishly, her hands shoved deeply inside her pockets and her eyes wide with anticipation. Swallowing the bitter lump in her throat, she let the words drift off her tongue.

“Um- excuse me?”

His eyes snapped towards her almost instantly and (Y/N) struggled to keep herself from flinching at the sharp look she received.

“Would you mind if I sit down? It’s all crowded in here, and outside it’s raining, so I can’t actually go-”

“Fine.” he replied shortly, before his stare returned to the screen of his laptop and his fingers began typing vigorously.

(Y/N)’s chest fell as she exhaled with relief and gingerly slid into the seat opposite from the boy.

She quickly took out a pencil, a small notebook and a pair of headphones, which she connected to her phone. Gathering her bag close, she shrunk deeper into the corner near the window and leaned her head against the cold glass. She closed her eyes for a brief second, letting a soft sigh escape her lips and basking in the cool sensation which spread through her temple, before tilting her head and scribbling down a few words on the paper.

Soon enough, the words began flowing inside her head, filling her with a familiar sensation of assurance. The pen left black marks onto the white sheet and while she filled pages after pages with thoughts and drawings, a silvery, rhythmic murmur began dripping from her lips.

With a brief tilt of her head, her eyes slowly travelled towards the raven haired boy. She felt herself freeze when her eyes locked with his.  


He had been watching her all along. From the first damned moment she entered Pop’s, all uncertain and awkward, to when she leaned her head against the window and began bloody singing.

The sound of her silvery voice and the continuous scribbling of her pencil on the paper kept him from his writing.

For a reason he didn’t know, her presence made his chest constrict with a feeling he couldn’t quite describe. Uneasiness seemed a poor choice of words, but it was the closest to what he was experiencing of them all. The nerves bubbled up inside his stomach, probably waiting for the perfect moment to burst.

At first, when she showed up next to him and asked if she could sit down, he thought ignoring her would be easy. But he was so… fucking wrong.

He remembered her. From the moment he caught her Y/E/C eyes, he remembered. Seeing them in every class that day, seeking for them whenever she wasn’t there. He remembered the shy smile she gave when the teacher presented her to the rest of the class. He remembered the gleam in her eyes during Psychology, when they talked about human rights and abstract concepts like love. He remembered the burning passion in her voice and the intelligence which shined through her actions and thoughts.

He remembered all of her, and it seemed like a curse.

Fuck…  

She was probably the most distracting person he’d ever seen in his entire life.

The way she bit her lip in thought, or the way she hummed contently when a phrase she liked came up to her mind. It was all too fascinating for Jughead, a concept he couldn’t understand. The way her hair fell into her face and the way she just didn’t bother to push it away made him boil with the urge to brush it to the side with a gentle touch.

Even though it started with secret glances he stole at her crunched figure, he just found his eyes and brain wanting more, to return to the sight of her face. So, after a while, he just gave up on his tentatives of writing and focused on her entirely.

Jughead stared at her. At how her expressions changed with a flash, at the soft smile which warmed her lips from time to time, followed by a private sigh, and at her piercing, radiating eyes, which stared off into the lonely distance.

It felt… strange. Strange and highly inappropriate, he thought of a better label for his odd interest in the girl.

She was new to this town. That was her first day in a new school, with new people and different surroundings. She was a stranger to him, a girl he’d just seen around for a few hours, before she came to Pop’s, where she sat down in front of him.

Why had he said yes in the first place?

Jughead clenched his jaw and felt his fingers curl in annoyance.

It was an understatement to say he was confused… and pissed. Maybe a little bit at her, because she was so damn captivating and enchanting and just… different from all the girls he’d seen. But mainly at him, for taking such an interest in her, for his sudden change. He felt like the wall of ignorance and cold feelings he managed to build over the years was now crumbling down… because of one person.

(Y/N).

She made his temper falter slightly, just by… existing. And being there, present, sitting next to him, and murmuring so beautifully it made him grimace.

She acted so natural. So… carefree and oblivious. She seemed lost to this world, caught between the walls of her own mind, enchanted into a dance with her own thoughts…

He was still staring. Probably more intently, by now.

Shit…  

Was it even healthy? 

Probably not.   

And that made a crisp, thin feeling of fear creep into his soul, tickling the sides of his shielded heart and sending shivers down his spine.

But a sudden change into his view seemed to snap Jughead out of his trance. 

He found himself staring into (Y/E/C) orbs, which watched back with surprise. He quickly came to acknowledge all of her figure, his gaze shifting from her eyes, and shook his head slightly. 

He returned to the screen of his laptop, a pale blush warming his cheeks, hoping she’d go back to writing just as well. But he could feel her stare piercing through his head and lurking through his mind. He heard a ruffling noise as Y/N changed her position so she was facing him properly.

“You’re blushing” a soft voice rang inside his ears.


(Y/N) couldn’t help it. She didn’t mean to say it out loud, but it just slipped off her tongue.

The sight of the turbulent feelings which swam inside his eyes tickled her interest. They held a blurry surface, like a broken mirror, so no one could see inside.

(Y/N) felt intrigued in an odd way by the boy beside her.

Aside from the fact that he was damn right staring at her, she found it strange that he immediately looked away. She didn’t expect Jughead to be so… sensitive, she might say. Let alone to see him blush.

(Y/N) shifted again, placing her bag down from her lap and leaning forward a little bit to peer at the boy. The sight of his red cheeks and embarrassed expression sent her lips into a smirk.

He continued to stare at the screen of his laptop for a few moments, before finally turning his attention to her.

She smiled tenderly in his direction and he felt something melt inside him.

Shaking her head at his silence, (Y/N) withdrew her hand.

“I’m (Y/N)” she said.

Jughead’s eyes flickered towards her hand suspiciously and his stare narrowed. It took a raise of her eyebrows for him to finally shake her hand.

“Jughead” he shortly introduced himself.

A heavy silence followed their handshake. (Y/N)’s smile faded slowly, her lips pressed now in a tight line. She shielded her eyes, gaze falling to her lap and began fiddling with her fingers in an attempt to calm the fire of her cheeks.

Jughead, though, he continued to watch her with thin eyes and furrowed eyebrows. The corners of his lips twitched slightly at her bashful blushing.

“So…” he cleared his throat, an awkward expression visible on his face.

(Y/N) tilted her head to peer at him with interest.

“Seems like we’re going to stay in here for a while” he gestured to the pouring rain outside.

She absently nodded her head, her gaze drifting off to the window and watched as big drops of water slid down the window.

“You seem to like writing”

She blinked, making Jughead raise an eyebrow.

“Am I right?”

“Actually, yes, I do like writing, but it’s…”

She trailed off, with a look like she said too much, but Jughead just raised his eyebrows with curiosity, urging her to tell him more.

“It’s not a book, or something… They’re just random musings I have during a day, or just scattered thoughts I manage to catch from time to time. This is mainly filled with drawings” she held her notebook up “but, recently, I began writing very much in it”

Jughead’s features shifted with surprise.

“So you’re drawing too?”

“I’m not that good at it… but yeah. I just feel like… anything I describe in words is kind of incomplete without a drawing, and every drawing needs a few feelings on mine scribbled down next to it”  

Jughead opened his mouth to ask a question, but shut it quickly, seeming undecided on what to do.

But (Y/N) looked at him expectantly, arching one eyebrow.

“Can I… possibly take a look? Painters and artists like you intrigue me. I can’t understand how you create such masterpieces with just a crayon”

She seemed to consider his words for a moment, before she reached out to hand him the notebook. His finger brushed against hers and (Y/N) fought a strangled gasp from passing her lips, as an electric wave shot through her body.

Jughead took his time to open the notebook and look at her drawings and writing. He admired every single page. She was indeed talented, not only at drawing, but at writing too. Every single word touched his heart. She knew how to leave an impact on the reader, and take them into her mind, make them feel everything she writes and thinks.

Jughead couldn’t help but be impressed.

As his eyes focused on the next page, he felt his chest constrict. There, on the white paper, was his face, drawn with such precision he thought it was an actual picture of him.

At first, he frowned in disbelief.

“Do you draw people often?”

“Only those who attract me” (Y/N) replied with a distant voice, her nose buried into a book this time.

A wide, soft smile warmed his lips and a strange feeling filled his stomach. Jughead didn’t know how to describe it, but again, it was about (Y/N). She was a mystery herself, for that matter.

He closed the notebook slowly, then placed it on the table, in front of her.

(Y/N)’s eyes snapped up and, closing her book, she carefully focused her attention back to Jughead.

“So, you find me attractive, huh?” he smirked smugly at her, leaning in so he could take a better view at her expression.

She stared at him for a moment, before all the blood drained from her face. Her mouth fell open in horror and a ghostly gasp escaped her lips, but actual words refused to come out.

Jughead spluttered with laughter at the sight of her mortified expression.

Even though she gave him a sour face, (Y/N) quietly decided she wanted to hear him laugh like that again.

“I didn’t realise that was you. It was just an image which was stuck into my head all day, so-”

But she stopped herself short, realising what slipped past her lips. She mentally face palmed for being so stupid.

He smiled at her mistake, biting his lip to keep the laugh from erupting again.

(Y/N) decided to look outside once again, secretly wishing Jughead haven’t seen her embarrassed blush.

She frowned at the sight which took over her view. It wasn’t raining anymore. She could finally go home.

Although… she kind of liked Jughead’s company.

With a sigh, she grabbed her stuff and placed it back into her bag, before turning to Jughead. He was watching her with confused eyes.

“Are you leaving already?”

(Y/N) smiled softly at him, before gesturing to the window.

“The rain stopped. I have to go home”

His face fell with disappointment for a second, before a crooked smile lifted the corers of his mouth.

“Well, I’ll see you at school, then?”

Even though it was supposed to be a statement, it came out more like a question.

“Sure” she replied, placing her bag onto her shoulder and waving at the raven haired boy.

Jughead stood there, chewing on his tongue and watching her head for the door, not wanting to be left alone by someone for the first time in his life. Before any rational thought could stop him, he opened his mouth to yell after the girl.

“You know”

She turned around with raised eyebrows.

“This seat is always free, and I’m here every day after school, so…” he trailed off, unsure how to continue his awkward suggestion.

Her expression immediately warmed and she smiled at him brightly, a rosy tint on her cheeks.

“Are you saying I can bother you every night?”

Jughead smiled back, sensing the humour in her voice.

“Yes”

(Y/N) let out a quiet laugh, before turning on her heels and walking out the door.

“You asked for it, Jones. You can’t get rid of me that easily now. Not here, not at school” she said over her shoulder, making Jughead shake his head with a full smile.

A quiet whisper left his lips as he watched her blurry shape walk away through the foggy window.

“I couldn’t imagine ever wanting to”

For all those times that I’ve made it awkward
And ruined a moment


When I’ve left you in the dark
For no apparent reason


Switched directions on the spot
Without rhyme or reason


Laid a burden on you accidentally
Then rushed to take it back


For whenever I was completely and honestly
True to myself

—  @existential-words

anonymous asked:

i'm seeing jensen hate going around as usual and it's making me oh so sad :((( jensen is so beautiful inside and out, do you mind talking about the perfectness that is jensen ackles pls?

oh gosh, I can talk about the perfectness that is Jensen Ackles forever and ever and ever and ever ❤

Jensen Ackles is amazing. I mean, he’s so incredibly amazing.

He’s been the most beautiful person since the moment he was born, so heartachingly beautiful

and he’s grown up to be even more beautiful than anyone could have ever dreamed

and even when he should have been going through the incredibly awkward moments of adolescence that all of us normal humans went through, he was still perfectly beautiful

but not only is he beautiful, he’s so freaking talented

he’s a magnificent actor

and director

he’s so so so so good, and he deserves so much recognition for how good he is

he’s not only beautiful and talented though, he’s athletic and strong

and he’s kind

and so very soft

and he’s an amazing friend

and he’s so supportive

and even though he’s shy and reserved, a lot more than a lot of the people he is around every day, he still goes out of his way to make fans smile

and oh his smile

and he loves coffee (trust me, that’s a sign of a good person)

and he simply loveslovesloves

he’s overcome stage fright right in front of us

and sings for us, sings so incredibly

and plays guitar

and he’s just…..he’s perfect

and he doesn’t think he is because he’s too humble to think so

Jensen Ackles is so wonderful, so so so so so wonderful

and we are so lucky and undeserving of him

but he’s still here, for us and for Sam and Dean and for Jared

and I’m so grateful and in awe that a person as amazing as him exists

Father’s Day: A Markiplier Egos One Shot

“It’s called ‘Father’s Day,’” Host explains. “The idea is that it’s a day to honor father’s. It’s really not that complicated.”

“But what do we do?” Wilford asks, stretching out his suspenders and quirking an eyebrow at the Host as they lounge in the library.

“Well, as figments, we don’t actually have a father. We just… exist,” Host says with a shrug. “This day doesn’t really apply to us.”

“Isn’t Ed a father?” Wilford’s face screws up in confusion. “How did that happen?”

Host pauses. “I… don’t know.”

Wilford shrugs and claps his hands together suddenly, startling the Host. “Oh, sorry, Hosty, but hear me out, what if we did something for Mark? He’s kind of like a father to us, right?”

“You have a very skewed definition of what a father is, Will.” Host takes a sip of his coffee and makes a face. It’s gone cold. Conversations with Wilford are not good for hot drinks. “Lewis?” the Host asks softly, and the dragon obliges, breathing a stream of fire towards the cup and heating the liquid inside. “Thank you,” and then back to Wilford, “What would we even do? Grill steaks? Toss around a football? That would be plenty of fun for me.”

Wilford shakes his head. “No, Host. You’re thinking about this all wrong! This is the Markiplier, we’re talking about here.” Wilford playfully nudges the Host. “And we’re the Markiplier Egos. If we’re going to do something…” Wilford’s eyes get very devious. “We’re going to do it our way.”

 

Mark finishes up recording for the day and flops down onto the couch. Chica jumps up, stepping all over him, before settling down beside him, her tail wagging happily. “Hey, bub,” Mark laughs, petting the pupper and feeling the muscles in his shoulders relax. They always get tense after playing horror games.

When he hears the doorbell ring, he assumes it’s one of the gang. Amy or Ethan or someone, but when he checks his phone, which he always neglects to do while recording, none of them have tried to contact him. Mark gently pushes Chica off of him, hops up, and goes to check who’s at the door. To say what he sees surprises him is probably the understatement of the millennium.

Most of the Egos are on his doorstep, arms full of gifts and video games and food. Mark opens the door slowly, poking his head out and trying to give them a convincing smile as he worriedly asks, “Um, hey guys. Wh-what are you doing here?”

“It’s Father’s Day!” Wilford screams in his face, tossing a fistful of glitter at Mark.

“Uh, yeah?” Mark blinks the glitter out of his eyes and surveys the others: Bim, Host, Doc, Silver, and even Google have all shown up for… whatever this is.

“You’re the closest thing we’ve got to a father, so here we are!” Wilford waves his hands in the air, eyes and mouth wide with excitement.

Google steps up. “We have brought gifts of chicken and dumplings from Cracker Barrel, the video games of your liking, and…” Google pauses, looking at the Host. “Host and I designed a little gift for you.”

Mark is baffled. They all stand there for a few more awkward moments before Mark finally snaps back to himself and invites them all inside before the neighbors start to stare. They already think he’s insane. Mark doesn’t want to prove their point. Bim gives Mark a quick hug as he enters, and Mark can’t help but smile. “Ed would’ve come, but he’s with his son, which is… weird. And Dark… well, I don’t guess you’d want him here anyway.”

Mark shakes his head and watches as they all stand around inside like they have no idea what to do. “Um, did you bring enough food for everyone?” Mark asks.

Wilford looks at the single order of chicken and dumplings that he’s holding and makes a face. “Oh, I guess we didn’t think about that.”

“Well, I can’t just eat this all by myself while the rest of you starve,” Mark says, walking towards the kitchen. “Come on, I’ll make some of my world famous chicken and dumps for all of us!”

They spend the next few hours watching Mark make the food—he even lets Wilford debone the chicken which he seems to enjoy way too much—and playing video games afterwards. At the end of the night, Google hands Mark a wrapped box with a sad looking bow on top.

“Silver sat on it,” Google accuses the hero.

“I didn’t mean to! How many times do I have to say that I’m sorry?”

Mark laughs and waves them off. “Guys, you shouldn’t have gotten me anything.” He unwraps the box and opens it to find… another box. “Um…” Mark takes the box out of the box and looks at it carefully.

“Speak to it,” Google says simply, and Mark shrugs. Host smiles to himself and listens carefully for Mark’s reaction.

“Um, hi?” Mark watches in awe as the box blinks open two blue eyes and yawns open a tiny, pink mouth.

“Hi, Mark! I’m your little biscuit, Tiny Box Tim!” Mark almost has a heart attack, and the Egos, after Dr. Iplier assures them that he’s not dying, are very proud of themselves for a successful, if unconventional, Father’s Day.

JuminV Week - Day 1  |  Photography

Click here for Angst Version

I love the hc where Jihyun first photography subject was Jumin !
I imagine him captured all Jumin’s candid photo it would be a bliss to draw all the awkward moment of little Jumin aaaaa but what is time
I think this is the first time my JuminV isnt something angsty heh-
Tho sorry idk if this is okay ? aaaaa


LOOKING FORWARD TO DAY 2 ~!