oohs & aahs

Mothers’ Weekend

Hello there! Long time, no see (my bad I know) but, here: an Alicia Zimmermann-centric piece as she goes to Parents’ Weekend during Jack’s freshmen year. [focus on Alicia, Jack, and Shitty] 6k


Somewhere, deep in her heart, Alicia Zimmermann knows she is a bad mother.

It started out as a worry, as maybe it does for all new mothers, that she will be a bad mother. That she won’t know what to do with a baby or a toddler that one day she will accidentally drop him or forget to feed him or feed him something he is actually allergic to or maybe she’ll scar him emotionally somehow and she worried but she survived his childhood okay. And then, after he was five or six, she stopped worrying about it. She thought she was doing pretty good. Jack had hockey and loved hockey and, sure, they didn’t have deep emotional talks but she didn’t exactly have any basis of comparison. Television families told her she was doing okay. No teenage boy wanted to have deep talks with his mother. And, look, if Jack didn’t talk to her all that much as he turned 12 and then 13, at least he was still talking to his father. Mostly still about hockey but she… she thought that had counted. Hockey was like French, to her. Another language she could understand but couldn’t quite speak. But Bob could. He was on top of it. Jack was taken care of.

She loved Jack. That was never the problem. The problem was that her love wasn’t enough. It didn’t matter. It didn’t alert her to any of the facts and maybe it even blinded her– She loved her son and her son loved hockey and so she loved hockey too. She loved her son and then her son seemed to love a boy named Kent and they never talked about it but she let Kent come over all the time and she figured they would discuss it at some point. She just… assumed everything was okay. Even after he was diagnosed with the anxiety disorder and given pills. It was always… well, that was a little problem but it’s handled and under control and everything is okay now.

See. Bad mother.

A good mother would have known somehow.

A good mother would have pushed and prodded or sensed it without even having to be told.

A good mother would have paid attention to how hard Jack was on himself. A good mother would have made sure her son had interests outside of hockey. A good mother would have known that Jack’s long silences after losses weren’t normal. A good mother would have preached balance and fostered friendships with different types of people and stopped the fucking hockey.

She didn’t though. Stop the hockey. No, not Alicia Zimmermann. She encouraged it. She went to the games and cheered the loudest and she even loved it a little bit because she thought it brought him joy, like his father. She bought into the vision: Jack playing hockey like Bob, the Zimmermann legacy continued throughout the ages…

God, she even used to tease Jack about how it took his father three years to win a Cup and she was sure Jack could manage it faster than his old man.

A good mother wouldn’t have done that. So, see, she’s always been a bad mother. Even now, now that she’s almost lost him, now that she’s promised to do better, now that she’s finally read all the books and online articles about anxiety and pressure and the danger of sports and hockey culture… now she’s still just as bad. Just for different reasons.

Now she is a bad mother because it’s Saturday afternoon and he’s been at Samwell for almost three months and she does not feel like mothers are supposed to feel in this moment.

She glances around. At the sea of other mothers and fathers crammed onto Samwell’s campus for Parents’ Weekend. They are not nervous. They are excited. Happy. Enthusiastic. Overjoyed to see the teenager they had left just a couple months ago again. To her right is a father almost (but not quite) breaking into a run to give his son a hug. To her left, a mother has burst into tears. Happy tears.

And then there’s her. She’s not excited to see Jack. Well, no. No, it’s not that she’s not excited. She is. She is. (She is. She repeats it once more just to remind herself). She is just…

She is nervous too. More nervous than she is excited.

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  • <p> <b>Lefou:</b> no one's neck as incredibly tHICK AS GASTON'S<p/><b>Lefou:</b> there's no man in town half as mANLY *slams himself down on the table and looks at gaston with love in his eyes*<p/><b>Lefou:</b> *winks at gaston*<p/><b>Lefou:</b> *twirls with gaston and snuggles the fuck up with him*<p/><b>Lefou:</b> *"oohs" and "aahs" while crawling on all fours when gaston talks about "shooting from behind"*<p/><b>Gaston:</b> ...<p/><b>Gaston:</b> how is it no girl has snatched you up yet? :)))<p/></p>
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As a neonatal intensive care nurse, Lauren Bloomstein had been taking care of other people’s babies for years. Finally, at 33, she was expecting one of her own. The prospect of becoming a mother made her giddy, her husband Larry recalled recently— “the happiest and most alive I’d ever seen her.”

Other than some nausea in her first trimester, the pregnancy went smoothly. Lauren was “tired in the beginning, achy in the end,” said Jackie Ennis, her best friend since high school, who talked to her at least once a day. “She gained what she’s supposed to. She looked great, she felt good, she worked as much as she could” — at least three 12-hour shifts a week until late into her ninth month. Larry, a doctor, helped monitor her blood pressure at home, and all was normal.

On her days off she got organized, picking out strollers and car seats, stocking up on diapers and onesies. After one last pre-baby vacation to the Caribbean, she and Larry went hunting for their forever home, settling on a brick colonial with black shutters and a big yard in Moorestown, N.J., not far from his new job as an orthopedic trauma surgeon in Camden. Lauren wanted the baby’s gender to be a surprise, so when she set up the nursery she left the walls unpainted — she figured she’d have plenty of time to choose colors later. Despite all she knew about what could go wrong, she seemed untroubled by the normal expectant-mom anxieties. Her only real worry was going into labor prematurely. “You have to stay in there at least until 32 weeks,” she would tell her belly. “I see how the babies do before 32. Just don’t come out too soon.”

When she reached 39 weeks and six days — Friday, Sept. 30, 2011 — Larry and Lauren drove to Monmouth Medical Center in Long Branch, the hospital where the two of them had met in 2004 and where she’d spent virtually her entire career. If anyone would watch out for her and her baby, Lauren figured, it would be the doctors and nurses she worked with on a daily basis. She was especially fond of her obstetrician/gynecologist, who had trained as a resident at Monmouth at the same time as Larry. Lauren wasn’t having contractions, but she and the ob/gyn agreed to schedule an induction of labor — he was on call that weekend and would be sure to handle the delivery himself.

Inductions often go slowly, and Lauren’s labor stretched well into the next day. Ennis talked to her on the phone several times: “She said she was feeling okay, she was just really uncomfortable.” At one point, Lauren was overcome by a sudden, sharp pain in her back near her kidneys or liver, but the nurses bumped up her epidural and the stabbing stopped.

Inductions have been associated with higher cesarean-section rates, but Lauren progressed well enough to deliver vaginally. On Saturday, Oct. 1, at 6:49 p.m., 23 hours after she checked into the hospital, Hailey Anne Bloomstein was born, weighing 5 pounds, 12 ounces. Larry and Lauren’s family had been camped out in the waiting room; now they swarmed into the delivery area to ooh and aah, marveling at how Lauren seemed to glow.

Larry floated around on his own cloud of euphoria, phone camera in hand. In one 35-second video, Lauren holds their daughter on her chest, stroking her cheek with a practiced touch. Hailey is bundled in hospital-issued pastels and flannel, unusually alert for a newborn; she studies her mother’s face as if trying to make sense of a mystery that will never be solved. The delivery room staff bustles in the background in the low-key way of people who believe everything has gone exactly as it’s supposed to.

Then Lauren looks directly at the camera, her eyes brimming.

Twenty hours later, she was dead.

Focus On Infants During Childbirth Leaves U.S. Moms In Danger

anonymous asked:

Didn't Keith have the bayard in s3? Where'd it suddenly go in s4...

That’s the whole question innit? 

Keith uses 

the black bayard 

multiple times 

in S3 

it was 

really prominent

By S4? It’s gone, poof, like it never existed 

I can only assume it’s because they wanted it to slip people’s minds, likely so it’ll have a stronger impact when it’s brought back as a plot point later. The only explanation I can come up with is it’s linked to the clone Shiro theory. If current Shiro was really Shiro they would’ve given him his bayard right? They’d have no valid reason not to, after all he’s back as Black Paladin. It’s rightfully his. And then we’d get a nice special moment where Shiro activates his bayard for the first time (outside of Voltron) and we all get to ooh and aah at the weapon he got 

The fact we didn’t get any of that, and in fact didn’t get any black bayard at all this season, tells me they’re saving it for later. What for? For Real Shiro. No way would they waste the Special Bayard Moment on a fake Shiro

And on a different, though somewhat related not re: bayards. If memory serves we don’t see Voltron form the sword at all either this season do we? I haven’t gone back to check every episode so someone correct me if I’m wrong, but I believe the only weapon Voltron summons throughout all of season 4 is Hunk’s shoulder cannon. That’s because Keith is the only one who can form the sword, as previously established when he forms Voltron’s sword regardless of whether he’s in the red lion using the red bayard or in the black lion using the black bayard. It’s the person who forms the weapon, not the bayard

Purely from a marketing standpoint, this means Keith will have to return to Voltron at some point. The sword has always been Voltron’s signature weapon in every incarnation of the show, just think how exciting it was to have Voltron’s Blazing Sword make an appearance in S2E13. You can’t have Voltron without his sword. And if you can’t have the sword without Keith, well, you better get Keith back in that robot eventually

Do you all want to know just how extra Viktor Nikiforov is?

I went to the Yuri!!! on Museum exhibit today, and after the Grand Prix finalists’ costumes came Viktor’s Stammi Vicino costume. I oohed and aahed over it like everyone else then we all shuffled along (we unfortunately weren’t allowed to take pictures at that point).

Not one room later, do I see Yuuri’s EX costume side by side with Viktor’s. “Huh”, I thought to myself, “why did they make two copies of Viktor’s costume?”

But they didn’t make two copies.

Viktor “Throw my money around” Nikiforov decided that rather than re-using his Stammi Vicino costume like a pleb, he would commission not one but two new versions of it. The literal only differences between the original Stammi Vicino costume and the one Viktor wore for the EX is that the EX version is slightly more purple, and the accents are silver as opposed to gold. That’s the only change

This man actually spent several thousand more dollars on a custom made skating costume just so he could better coordinate with his fiancè.

When will your fave ever?

Where it ends, where it begins - a BH one-shot

Author’s note: This is my first Bughead fic, inspired by this prompt from @raptorlily. Thank you once again to the incomparable @jandjsalmon, whose input, support and friendship have been invaluable in the making of this fic, and to @theladylabyrinth, whose feedback and encouragement have helped me so much.

Summary: Closing night at the Drive-In. Jughead contemplates endings as he prepares to say goodbye to his beloved Twilight. Then Betty Cooper shows up at his door. [One-shot. Canon addition/Episode 4 coda.]

“It was then that Jughead knew, with a certainty that overshadowed everything else that was ambiguous and unsure in his own life, that one day, he would kiss Betty Cooper. Not tonight. Maybe not even tomorrow. But he made a quiet vow of it, promising himself that he would give himself the chance to write himself into her story.”

Fic under the cut, or read on my Ao3. I LOVE hearing from my readers, so please feel free to drop by my asks.

At midnight, finally, the last of the stragglers made their way out of the Twilight Drive-In, leaving tire tracks, unfinished popcorn and rubbish in their wake.

Well, there you have it, folks, Jughead narrated bitterly in his mind, the last tatters of this town as we know it.

As he opened the movie projector and lifted out the final reel of Rebel Without A Cause, he had to stop and gave a bitter, hollow chuckle at the irony of it all - screening a film about the failure of the American dream on the last night of the drive-in, which, as far as he was concerned, was Riverdale’s funeral. Sure, the shooting of Jason Blossom was the death-knell for the innocence of this “town with pep”, but this night - in all its unabashed celebration of nostalgia - was its true farewell.

A lot of people had turned out, which was nice. But disappointingly (and predictably), besides everyone ooh-ing and aah-ing over young James Dean, no-one had picked up or appreciated the film choice. Everyone was entertained, sure, but in between all the high school kids making out in their cars and the Southside Serpents hollering at the screen, it was just like any other crappy night at the drive-in.

Betty, he thought. Betty would’ve appreciated it. It was her pick, after all, and the memory of it still enthralled him, made him smile. At the diner, when she’d half-jokingly suggested it, he’d given her no more than a nod and a smile. On the inside, he was screaming.

He shook his head in an attempt to shrug off these thoughts, which were disturbingly becoming more prevalent in the past few weeks. He’d never really paid heed to Betty Cooper that way growing up, because everyone and their dog just assumed that Archie and Betty were destined for one another. It didn’t matter how many other girls Archie hooked up with along the way - these were all momentary diversions in their long march towards Cooper-Andrews endgame. Betty would wait, ever-steadfast, until Archie eventually came around to his senses. They would get married, have three beautiful children and live in a charming house bordered by white picket fences. A true Riverdale fairytale.

Except… Jughead always thought that Betty was better than that. That she deserved more than just to be the final, decisive footnote in Archie’s romantic chronicles. It’s true that they’d become more distant as they grew up, but he still counted her as one of his closest friends. Jughead had been around her his whole life, and knew her well enough to see that one day she’d transcend the depressingly small dreams Riverdale held for her. She was strong, whip-smart, fiery and compassionate. When she got that literary internship, he rejoiced for her. She deserved it. Sure, he listened and empathised with Archie in bemoaning the loss of their friend over the summer, but privately, he was thrilled that she was getting out of Riverdale, even for a little while. Because she needed to know that there was more beyond the borders of their little town, and that perhaps she deserved a little better than what she - and everyone else - expected for herself.

Jughead had known all this, yet still managed to keep a friendly, platonic distance throughout their teenage years. So he couldn’t fully explain this sudden, recent spark in his consciousness of her. Why he was suddenly more aware of his body and the way his face moved whenever she was around. Or why a throwaway movie suggestion over milkshakes echoed more deeply than it should have. Maybe it was her extended absence that summer. Maybe it was even Jason’s murder, which had cast a cold, gloomy pall over Riverdale that made him and so many others want to reach for the warmth and inherent goodness of someone like Betty Cooper. All he knew was that when he saw her for the first time again after summer and she turned around in that booth at Pop’s, he looked and saw things that he hadn’t seen before.

For instance, he saw that Betty Cooper had grown up.

He saw that she held herself with a new steadiness, a steely confidence that caught him off guard. And that her hair looked really pretty in its careful curl and neat ponytail, but that it would also be interesting to see what it looked like when it was out and loose (perhaps when she woke up in the morning?).

More importantly, he saw that her eyes - greener and more arresting than he remembered - took an unusual trajectory away from Archie as they walked into the diner. For as long as Jughead had known Betty, her gaze always rested on Archie by default, whether she was listening to him intently, willing him to look at her, or upbraiding him for something he had done. This time, her eyes looked past Archie and at him. It was a small change, but it startled him, alerting him to a shift in the atmosphere. In his mind, he saw a weathervane turning, signalling the changing wind.

He was not silly or naive enough to think that he completely fell for Betty Cooper that day at Pop’s. He wasn’t even sure that he was there yet, that he could define whatever he felt about her in certain, concrete terms. All he knew was that he was far more aware of her than he had ever been his entire life. And with Riverdale’s slow descent into darkness (and his family’s own descent into brokenness) raging in the background of his life, she was a pinpoint of light that he was in no hurry to look away from.

A knock on the door startled him.

He tensed. Anyone knocking on the door of the drive-in’s projector room past midnight was bad news. He glanced around wildly, looking for a weapon, anything heavy he could defend himself with.

“Jug? You there? It’s Betty.”

Shit. He almost wished for the hostile intruder. This was decidedly worse. What the hell is she doing here?

Jughead opened the door. He felt his chest tighten. It was ridiculous and wildly unfair that she stood there, right where the light hit her best. Her beauty made him ache. Then he noticed a faint smudge on her cheek, a slight twitch in her jaw. She’d been crying.

She smiled wanly and held up an empty rubbish bag. “I figured you needed help cleaning up.”

“Hey. Betts.” He stepped outside and quickly closed the door behind him, aware that if she caught a glimpse of his bed and belongings, she wouldn’t let up until he told her the truth about his living situation. “Is everything okay?”

She gave a shaky, nervous laugh. “Um, yeah. It’s been… an eventful night.” His eyes searched her, silently willing her to elaborate. “Is it okay if I take my time talking about it? I’m still a little shaken up.”

“Sure, of course.” He indicated the rubbish bag. “So… this is…?”

“An excuse.” He smiled at her honesty. “A distraction, really. After tonight, I just felt the need to come out and do something helpful. And to pay tribute, of course.” Her arm waved out vaguely towards the screen, now blank, white, empty of imagery.

He couldn’t help but scoff good-naturedly at that. “So, you decided to distract yourself by coming out and cleaning up the drive-in that’s closing down? Polish the brass on the Titanic?”

She laughed. “Really? You’re making a Tyler Durden reference?”

Jughead leaned against the doorframe and cocked an eyebrow at her. “The girl knows her Fight Club quotes, I’m impressed.”

“It’s only one of my favourite movies.”

He smiled and gave her a skeptical look. “Fight Club? Really?”

“Yeah, well, when it’s contraband in your household and you have to sneak it into your room to watch it on your laptop, you kind of develop an odd little affinity with it.” She shook the rubbish bag at him, a little more certain and purposeful. “Anyway, come on, the Titanic’s not polishing its own brass.”

Jughead laughed. “Alright then, but we’re going to need some snacks.”

Jughead raided the leftovers from the drive-in snack bar. The kid who was manning it was supposed to have cleared it out by the end of the night, but clearly he thought it would be pointless, given that the drive-in was closing. Jughead grabbed a bag of popcorn, some chocolate bars and a couple of trash pickers for him and Betty.

They agreed to start at one end of the drive-in and walk across together to try and cover the grounds. With all of its lights still on and the signage still buzzing above their heads, the drive-in looked hauntingly beautiful in its neon-lit emptiness.

Betty turned to Jughead as she ripped a Snickers open. “How did tonight go, Jug? I’m really sorry I couldn’t make it. My mom sort of hijacked my plans.”

“It’s okay,” he said. And it really was. Alice Cooper was a piece of work. “It was bittersweet, to be honest. The whole town was there - Serpents included, but you know, still, it was great.” He sighed. “I just wish it didn’t have to take the drive-in closing down to get everyone here.”

Betty glanced at him. “You know the town cares about the drive-in, Jug. We all had great memories here. I did - I watched my very first movie here. I’m pretty sure we all did.”

“What did you watch?” he asked out of curiosity.

“It was a rerun of the Zeffirelli Romeo and Juliet.”

Jughead laughed. “Wow, seriously?”

“Seriously.” She laughed at the memory. “I was 6, and… well, you know my mom. She had grand plans for me and my sister to become cultured. Polly was bored and ended up reading a book, but I actually ended up enjoying it.”

Jughead imagined it - six-year-old Betty Cooper, precocious and already smart beyond her years, her blonde head resting on her little hands as Olivia Hussey and Leonard Whiting declared their love for each other on the play’s infamous balcony. It was, he had to admit, adorable. “Little morbid for a six-year-old, don’t you think?”

“It definitely was, but I was more into the love story. The deaths and the gang warfare completely went over my head.”

“Are you kidding? That’s sort of the whole point of the story, Betts.”

“Was it really, though? The title of the play WAS Romeo and Juliet.”

“Yeah, but then it starts with this morbid prologue that basically spoils the love story for you. ‘Two households, both alike in dignity, in fair Verona where we lay our scene…”

Betty smiled and joined him, their voices echoing the over the empty grounds of the Twilight. “From ancient grudge break to new mutiny, where civil blood makes civil hands unclean –”

“See?” Jughead broke off. “‘Civil blood makes civil hands unclean.’ It’s obvious, isn’t it? Shakespeare’s trying to tell us that that’s where the story’s at. The lovers are just a plot device to teach you the real lesson of the play, which is that senseless hatred is a vile force that can disrupt even the purest, most honest love.”

“Or,” Betty countered, “that even the briefest flicker of love, which lasted all of three days, can be enough to bury an ancient grudge. Remember, the Capulets and the Montagues actually made up in the end. And you didn’t even get to the good part of that prologue - ‘doth with their death bury their parents’ strife.’

Jughead smiled. This was the kind of literary banter that he could only have with Betty. Archie was his best friend, but the last book they discussed was a Spiderman comic. “Alright, I can concede that point. But you’re an eternal optimist, Betty. I’m a cynic.”

“Cynics don’t fight tooth and nail to keep an old-fashioned drive-in open, Juggie,” she said. Juggie. Her childhood nickname for him. It made him unreasonably giddy. “Or write novels in tribute to their hometown. Face it, you’re a romantic soul.”

Jughead rolled his eyes. “It’s not romantic to mourn endings, Betty. It’s just… human.”

Betty’s face fell. Jughead immediately regretted his scornful tone. Which was odd. He never usually cared how people reacted to his rougher edges. But seeing Betty’s vulnerability at his doorstep earlier opened something fierce and protective in him. He bent his head to catch her eye. “I’m sorry. That was a bit sour.”

“Oh, no, don’t be. I mean, you’re absolutely right - spot on, in fact,” she said. She smiled at him. “And don’t apologise for your sourness. I think I can handle some trademark Jughead Jones sourness.” She playfully poked at his beanie.

Jughead froze internally. She wasn’t normally this casually tactile with him; that was reserved for Archie. Come to think of it, how the hell was Archie still walking around when he’d been touched, so often and so tenderly, by Betty Cooper? The spot on his head where she’d poked him felt electrified.

Betty continued. “But like I said, you’re right. I am an optimist, but there’s still something about tonight that makes me feel like… I should be grieving. Grieving what, I don’t know.” She sighed and sat down on the grass. “Maybe that’s why I’m here.”

Jughead sat down next to her. They passed a few moments in companionable silence before he turned to her. “What happened tonight, Betty?”

In detail, she told him about what had transpired in the Music Room at school with Miss Grundy (or Jennifer Gibson, rather), Archie, Mr. Andrews and her mom. She withheld nothing. He raised his eyebrows when she mentioned breaking into Grundy’s car, was incredulous when she told him about the gun and the ID (he was borderline spluttering when she mentioned that she’d taken the gun home - how could she be so reckless?). She went over the fiery exchange between her mom and the Andrews men, and her subsequent threat to publicly rescind her story on Grundy and paint her mother as the villain. By the time she got to the part where Grundy announced that she’d skip town, Jughead was floored. The girl had guts.

“That’s one hell of a night, Betts. I can’t believe you actually got Grundy to leave town.”

“I didn’t - that was her choice. Admittedly a choice made under duress from my mother, the ultimate bad cop.”

Jughead laughed at that. “Still. You pursued the lead, you found the evidence, and you prevented Archie from getting caught up in a sadder, more tragic version of The Graduate. That’s brilliant.”

“Thanks.” She smiled at him - a small, hesitant smile. “It was pretty good, I’ll admit.”

They both fell quiet. He sensed that her heart wasn’t in that self-congratulatory admission. He nudged her knee with his. “So what’s bugging you?”

“Ah. I don’t know, Jug.” She wrung her hands. “I know I did the right thing but… it doesn’t feel good, you know? It’s not something I want to celebrate.”

“Well, let’s analyse. Why did you actually do it? Why’d you go after Grundy?”

“I did it because… I guess, because I wanted to protect Archie. I thought Grundy had him under some sexual spell that prevented him from seeing reason. I thought that he was incapable of thinking for himself because he was blinded by her. But…” She paused and looked out over the Twilight, deep in thought. “What I saw at the Music Room wasn’t some child who couldn’t reason for himself. What I saw was our friend Archie who we’ve known our whole lives, fully aware, making his own decisions, seeing how stupid and dangerous and reckless they are, and continuing to make them anyway.”

Jughead was quiet. It was odd hearing any sort of Archie criticism from Betty. Sure, she’d tell him off for chewing with his mouth open, or not studying for a quiz, but there was never anything like this - a full critique of his character and the decisions he made.

“I didn’t know who that Archie was, Juggie. I felt so distant from him. I felt betrayed, but not by him. I felt betrayed by this illusion of him that I’ve held onto for so long. And it made me realize that maybe what I felt for him was an illusion, too.”

Jughead felt the air go still. As if Riverdale itself was holding its breath. As if the town couldn’t believe that the dream it had concocted of its two golden children was disintegrating .

Betty sighed. “And tonight, this whole Grundy thing, just felt like a sign. That maybe it’s time to let that illusion go.”

Jughead’s felt his chest tighten. His mind was a mess. He couldn’t process what he was hearing. It felt unreal, like it should’ve been playing on the blank screen in front of them rather than right here, in a conversation with a girl that he could not stop thinking about. She was saying words that he’d never imagined her saying, and in turn, he was feeling things that he’d never thought he’d ever feel for her. He felt like he was floating out of his body.

“Jug?” She interrupted his reverie. “Come on, say something. I feel terrible that I’m sitting here saying all this to his best friend.”

Jughead was stumped. What the hell was he supposed to say to that? His mind went blank - blank as the screen before him.

The screen. In a flash, it came to him.

“Betts, you know I’m not great at talking about that stuff. But… I do know movies. And I know endings. Heck, I’m living through one right now.”

Damn it, why was she looking at him so intently? How was he supposed to concentrate on what he was saying? He looked away from her, determined to say what he needed to say.

“You know what I used to love about the drive-in? I loved that me, my dad, my mom and Jellybean could come in here, no matter how crappy it was at home, and suspend reality for two hours. Pretend that there was a better story than the one we were living. Pretend that we were this happy family, that dad wasn’t drinking or screwing up our lives.”

Betty looked at him in sympathy, and reached out to put her hand on his. If he’d been jolted by a simple poke to the head earlier, this felt like an assault on the senses. He tried to ignore it as he went on.

“But then the movie would end. And I’d hate it, because then the fantasy would stop, and we had to go home. I think that’s why I decided to work here. I wanted to preserve that feeling. I wanted my own illusions, too.”

Betty smiled in appreciation of how he neatly turned her own words into his.

“Tonight, I feel like that illusion ended. And you know, it does piss me off, but now I’m free of it. Now I don’t have to stick around and pretend that my life is better than it is. You get what I’m saying?”

“Yeah, but that’s depressing, Jug.”

“Hell yeah, it is. But it’s real.”

She was quiet and thoughtful, seeming to turn that over in her mind.

“I guess my point is, sometimes the illusions can just be that - all smoke and mirrors. And sure, they look and feel good, but they stop you from engaging with reality. That reality sucks sometimes, but I need to deal with it at some point, right?”

“Yeah. Right.” Betty nodded, seeming to concede his point. “Maybe we both needed our illusions to end. Maybe now, we can go out there and make our own reality. A better one.”

He smiled. Hearing her say that gave him a sense of peace about the Twilight and about his living situation. He’d figure this out. He always did.

Suddenly he was struck with a flash of inspiration. He got up quickly. She looked at him with puzzlement. “Jug?”

“Come on. I’ve got an idea.”

They stood in front of the main circuit box of the Twilight. As the lone worker in the drive-in, Jughead was in charge of turning off the main switch after every show. In his mind, he had already seen himself playing something symbolic over the speakers (“Closing Time” by Semisonic, or maybe something more vintage and defiant, like “My Way” by Sinatra), while turning off the switch and watching the lights go out one last time.

But then he looked down at Betty - his very own Hitchcock blonde and by far the most interesting plot twist in his life - and he knew that he wanted her to be a part of that. Because something was ending for her, too. And she needed to mourn it and mark it as much as he needed to say goodbye to the Twilight.

She looked at the main circuit and understood immediately. “Jug, this is – I mean, you should be –”

“Betts, this place means something to you. Maybe more than you realize.” He placed his hands on her shoulders and looked her straight in the eye. “You spoke of illusions earlier, didn’t you? Well, maybe this is where they began, at the Twilight, with Romeo and Juliet. Maybe, like you said, it’s time to shut that illusion down.”

“Yeah, but…” Betty smiled and looked off into the distance, as if envisioning her future. “Just because Archie didn’t fulfill that illusion doesn’t mean it wasn’t good.” She exhaled a long breath that she seemed to have been holding in for some time, then fixed her eyes on his. “It’s still a good story, Jug. And I still choose to believe it. Maybe Archie wasn’t meant to be Romeo, but that doesn’t mean I don’t get to be Juliet.”

It was then that Jughead knew, with a certainty that overshadowed everything else that was ambiguous and unsure in his own life, that one day, he would kiss Betty Cooper. Not tonight. Maybe not even tomorrow. But he made a quiet vow of it, promising himself that he would give himself the chance to write himself into her story. Not just as a friend, or a childhood memory. But as Romeo.

“Juggie?”

He snapped back into the moment. “Yeah?”

“We’ll do this together, you and me,” she said, indicating the switch. “It’s only right.”

Jughead could have fallen in love with her just for that. He was more than halfway there. He nodded and put his hand on the rusty handle. She brought her own hand up, her eyes jumping to his, suddenly conscious. Did he imagine it? A brief flash of awkwardness then her hand covered his - warm, soft, home.

“To endings?” she said, her voice small but assured, hopeful.

He paused, and thought of everything that was ending or had ended in Riverdale. Jason Blossom. The Twilight. The town’s false patina of innocence. His own stability.

And then he looked at her hand covering his, and all of that dissolved into the background, like the final frame of a movie fading to black.

“No,” he said. “To beginnings.”  

anonymous asked:

Oh...I didn't know you aren't a singer! Reading your posts, I thought that you are. May I ask what your background is in then? I really enjoy your vocal posts. I am a die hard Louie and love his voice. That's what drew me into the fandom. Looking up stuff about his voice on youtube that eventually led me here. It's so unique, if not always on pitch. He seemed more loose and free earlier, even though he had no/less solos. I'm so angry that they shot his confidence down but am thrilled he has +

+ regained (some of) it back with project no control and now his solo effort. I feel his voice conveys so much emotion (sorry niall and liam. I did say I’m a louie!). Maybe because I am always listening more closely because his parts are small. IWTWYAS is so dreamy. LYG draws me in with that yearning and tension. I like watching videos after Z left and he sings almost all of LBD. I like how you can tell when he isn’t singing in the chorus because he really does carry many of them. In DFWYB
++ he doesn’t sing all the words in the chorus and you know. Same with RTR. “Cuz I wanna be” but he doesn’t sing free and I can tell. Of course all the studio versions are produced in a way that it’s harry or a lot of oohs and aahs instead of harmonies (I’m looking at you night changes!). Anyhow, sorry for the long post. It was meant to be about you and what you studied or do and I made it all about louis. Can you tell my love for him? Feel free to add on or tell me to bugger off.

Hi anon,

What a sweet and heartfelt fan message. I can tell your love for Louis, and I completely sympathize with the status he has in your heart.

You’re right, Louis’s voice is unique in its ability to convey so many genuine emotions simultaneously. Take “Just Hold On,” our only Louis solo song so far. The opening always, always takes me by surprise, no matter how many times I hear it, by its raw and honest yearning, its wistfulness. And by the time he sings, “What do you do when a chapter ends/ Do you close your book, and never read it again?”, I’m a mess. Yet he managed to convey a sense of hope and reassurance, too. The song is a musical embodiment of his courage when he sang at the X Factor performance.

The fact that fans can show him some love with Project No Control and Project Home (kudos to those who organized these projects), and give him any amount of confidence, makes me proud to be in this fandom. It’s the only fandom I know where fans consistently and persistently put in enormous effort to raise money for charitable causes, mirroring the enormous generosity of the band members. Even at their young ages, they have shown such genuine love toward charities. Louis, in particular, could be millions of dollars more wealthy if he wants to, but he has given so much, not only money but personal time and effort.

All the songs you mentioned have uniquely Louis contributions. The scratchy solos in “I Want to Write You a Song” reminds me of those nights on OTRA when the boys would perform even if they had a cold, shouting themselves hoarse. He does carry a lot of 1D choruses. His voice provides a unique contrast and “thickness” (as Harry said) to the 1D sound. He sings a lot of second verses because it’s the position in a pop song that needs special attention and interest. And of course, the iconic Louis solo at the end of “Something Great” gives meaning to the song title. The way his voice contrasts with Harry’s voice is a duo made in heaven– it has the beautiful contrast of two distinct textures, like “Leather and Lace” (the Stevie Nicks/ Don Henley song), but his harmonized chorus with Liam in “If I Could Fly” is also something incredibly beautiful.

And that’s not to mention his songwriting ability. We don’t talk much about “Love You Goodbye,” but Louis loves this song, and I really like it, too. It’s just a great pop song in the tradition of 1970’s pop ballads. And I like Louis’s solo, not just for the acrobatics of the octave leap, but also because he sings with the clipped vowels that reflect his Yorkshire accent. It adds personality to the song.

I’ve been involved in music most of my life, in performance and theory. I was a student in conservatory. I actually didn’t like One Direction’s music until Four, because of my bias against their boy band image, and because it was “too young” for me. I would hear “What Makes You Beautiful” on the radio and sneer at the transparent pandering to their demographic. The music video confirmed that bias.

Then I heard “Night Changes,” and I thought, no way is this One Direction. It sounded like an actual acoustic, folk-influenced ballad. The harmonies were a little bit bluesy and I loved that. And I really loved their voices, especially Harry’s and Zayn’s (though I couldn’t identify them at the time– I didn’t even know how many people were in the band). Then I heard “Fool’s Gold,” and I watched a “One Direction Funny Moments” video. The boys were different from what I expected. They weren’t “acting” cute. They were genuine and snarky and mischievous and uninhibited, and their voices were untrained but naturally beautiful. After I watched @freddieismyqueen’s videos on Larry Stylinson for two nights straight, until 2 AM each night, I thought, come on. There’s no way this is true. This is crazy. When I heard the song “Once in a Lifetime,” and the way Louis and Harry sang their verses, I thought, if Larry is true, it’s the most unbelievable, but also the most pure and beautiful love.

So I started evaluating evidence for myself, reading posts everywhere online. I followed the Occam’s Razor test of trying to fit evidence into the least convoluted explanation. I actually wasn’t convinced about Larry for ages. Then I sat at a One Direction concert and heard Harry sing, with my own ears, “And all his little things.” And RBB/SBB. What possible reason was there for all of the education about the history of closeted entertainers, and Stonewall, and the direct, unsubtle tie-ins with band members, particularly Harry and Louis?

But putting Larry aside, there’s no question in my mind that the Louis we see today has been through serious psychological trauma in the process of surviving One Direction’s contracts. Entertainment has notoriously open-ended legal arrangements that can take years to unwind– sometimes up to a decade. The fact is, we as fans can be impatient, but we don’t really know what’s going on, and the pace of resolution can be very, very slow. Just like the sale of majority shares of Syco to Sony– it took almost a year after the fact for the story to come out.

I love the passion of Louies. He really deserves the best fans. I don’t know about other people, but I will be here for as long as it takes, through all the smears, through all the falsehoods tabloids “report” about him. I know who he is. He has shown again and again who he is under duress. In the most challenging circumstances, he stands for those being bullied, he defends those who need to be defended, he is strong and kind, he puts himself in vulnerable positions to protect those he loves, and even those he doesn’t love– because of his ethics and courage.

Thank you for supporting him, anon. You picked a good person to love.

open RP

uh-HNNNgnnngnnnnnnggghnnnn….my widdle toesies…!…….. uwah!!!!!!!!hhhhhnggmmmmgggg.. hhhhhhnhhhjhnhjnjnggggggggggg….my WIDDLE toesies!!!! ooohhhh hmmm mmmnnnnmn….aah!!!!!!!!.. …ooh!!!.

OKAY BUT imagine a future where team voltron is like coming home and Kieth and lance are going to lances family to stay, hunk is going to his family, pidge and Matt are going to reunite with their mother, and shiro is kinda nervous bc last time he came to earth he got sedated and ignored. So. He asks the holts if he can stay over there and they’re like ‘sure why tf not" and so he and Matt and pidge are about to land when they realize they’re surrounded by earth military and shiro kinda flips shit. But. This ain’t the garrison and these guys welcome shiro and the holts back and brief them and basically they say that they informed the world or whatever and that earth is going to thank them for their service with a gala or some shit

Shiro can’t dance very well

And also needs a date

SO he goes and asks Allura bc she’s a ‘leading lady’, and she’s like “what the fuck is a dance” and so they practice and shit and its really cute and couple-y and at the party they get oohs and aahs bc they’re the literal most pretty people in the universe and Keith and lance dance together and pidge and Matt do a nerdy brother sister dance and they also help hunk wrangle shay in too and coran is studying the human interactions off in the corner like a nerd and then some random dude comes up and asks him to dance and it’s all happily ever after

GOD I’m a piece of shit

tuttiflutie  asked:

How would the boys react to little Phase 1 Noodle giving them a make-over? (even better if they had to give an important interview afterwards)

Murdoc Niccals:

  • Disgusting (although he does feel like a pretty lady uwu).
  • If Noodle’s going to make up his entire face, she better do a good job.
  • Might as well do his hair, too. If you’re going all out, go all out.
  • Mudz is definitely upset when she messes up on his eyeliner and smudges his lipstick.
  • He’s even MORE upset when he finds out that he has an interview to record afterwords with MTV and whatnot.
  • When he hops into the car with Russ and 2D, Russ starts to laugh and bang on the steering wheel, while 2D sits in the back, extremely uncomfortable with the situation he was inserted into.
  • Midst interview, Murdoc interrupts one of the reporters, asking if they liked his makeup, because he did it himself friggin liar.

2D:

  • When Noodle asks to lather 2D up in some makeup, he doesn’t disagree.
  • He loves making Noodle happy, and if this makes her happy, so be it.
  • Even though the makeup comes out pretty ratchet, he still “ooh”’s and “aah”’s at the ideas she had in mind.
  • When Noodle asks to do Stu’s hair, he obliges.
  • After making some pigtails and putting a crown on his head, Russ pops his head into the room.
  • “We have to leave for that interview– Common’.” Forgetting that he had somewhere important to attend to, 2D waved Noodle goodbye, not wanting to fix his hair or wipe of the makeup– he didn’t want to hurt her feelings.
  • The first thing Stu says when he sees the reporters (and the camera) is that Noodle did his makeup, and that he is very proud of her pristine work.

Russel Hobbs:

  • When Noodle starts doing his makeup, there is no turning back.
  • She goes full out contour/bronzer/highlighter/eyeshadow/eyeliner/mascara/lipstick… Where does she even get this stuff? She’s only 10, geez-
  • When Mudz starts whipping the keys on his lanyard around, saying that they need to bolt for the interview, Russel just gets up and hops into the car.
  • Nobody questions why he has makeup on on the car ride there, Murdoc and 2D already have a pretty good idea regarding to who did it.
  • When the gang gets to the interview, everybody shoots Russel weird, condescending looks… But he never says a thing.
  • He goes through with the entire interview without explaining a thing.
Live, For Levi

Okay, first off, I am so so sorry for not posting for such a long time. I’ve been super busy with school and such, but now that school has ended and summer has officially started, I can get back to writing! I’ve also written a little something on Wattpad, I would greatly appreciate it if you were to check it out. Its called Princess Avalon by -thatoneweirdogirl- and yes, it is an Attack on Titan fanfiction. However I’m not quite sure if I want it to be a Levi romance just yet and I’ve only managed to do the prologue. Well, enough of this shameless self promoting.

This was requested by @silexia . Also, you are a squad leader in this one.


It wasn’t meant to happen like this. Things have been going great for you and Levi, you just recently got engaged, falling more in love with each other each day. Until that day.


You had just woken up to see an extremely toned chest in front of you. You let out a little sigh of happiness before trying to get up, but found that a pair of strong arms were wrapped tightly around you, not allowing you to. You struggled a bit, trying to escape the arms that pressed you tightly to your fiancee’s chest, before you gave up, accepting the fact that you would not be able to leave until Levi woke up. Choosing to snuggle into his chest instead. 

You heard a certain someone let out a contented sigh, tightening his arms around you. “I want to wake up like this every morning, with my beautiful (wife/husband) by my side.”

“I’m not your (wife/husband) yet. But you’re right, this sure is peaceful..”

That moment of peace was interrupted, however, when a very, very hyper Hange ran into you and Levi’s shared bedroom.

“Guys!” Hange screamed, “Erwin wants all squad leaders to be in the meeting room.” Before any of you could speak, Hange was already up and running.

The both of you sighed, reluctantly getting out of bed and putting on your uniforms. You walked into the meeting room hand in hand. Before you entered, Levi gave you a quick but tender kiss.

You walked into the room, took your seats and waited to begin. After a couple  minutes, Erwin stood up and clapped. “It seems like we’re all here, so know for the news. The 54 expedition outside of the walls will begin in a week, so train your cadets well, I don’t want any unnecessary deaths.” 

After a few minutes of discussing the expedition, the meeting was adjourned. You made a move to get walk out of the room to get breakfast, as everybody else has, but it seemed that Levi had other plans. He got up and encased you in his arms, before hugging you tightly.

“Levi?” You inquired, confused as to why he was stopping you.

“Be careful on this expedition, please.” Was all he said, making you extremely worried.

“I always am, and you know it. What’s wrong?”

“It’s just, I have a… bad feeling about this one. Please, promise me you’ll be careful, for me.” 

“I will, of course I will. I love you.” You cuddled into his chest, as if telling him that you were going to be alright. Levi put his chin on your head. Your (h/c) hair tickling his chin. He loosened his grip slightly, to put a kiss on your forehead. You laughed and reached up to plant a kiss on his lips.

“I love you too.” He whispered.


It was the day of the expedition, and Levi was more stressed then ever. Not that it showed on his face, of course. He showed his worry in the little things, making sure you ate enough, keeping you in his line of sight.

When the time came for you to head outside the walls, Levi had already pulled you into a hug. He kissed you passionately. This took you by surprise. Levi had always shown that you were his, but he had never directly kissed you with this amount of force. Nevertheless, you kissed back, ignoring the oohs and aahs of the cadets.

Everything was going according to plan. There weren’t that many casualties, and this seemed like the most successful expedition in a long time. But it was too good to be true.

A bunch of titans suddenly turned up, and while they were being killed, more and more just kept coming.

Both you and Levi were fighting bravely. As you finished off the titan that tried to attack you, you took a glance at Levi. To your surprise, he seemed to be distracted, so distracted that he didn’t notice the giant hand that reached down to grab him. But you did.

So you did what any good fiancee would’ve done.

You flew over there, using a lot of gas. You probably didn’t have much left now, but that was okay. When you arrived, you didn’t waste any time and immediately pushed your fiancee out of the way of the oncoming hand. Instead of grabbing him, it grabbed you.

As soon as the gruesome looking titan registered the fact that it had successfully caught a human in his clutches, it squeezed you. 

It hurt. You could hear and feel the cracking of your bones, making you wince in pain. You struggled in the titan’s grasp, before realizing that, with your injuries, it was no use. So you waited. For what, you didn’t know. For somebody to notice and kill the titan? For the sweet freedom of death? Before you had time to think about it, you were in front of the titan’s ugly face. It had opened it’s mouth and was about to drop you in, when you heard a faint screaming. 

“(Y/N)!” You had heard, when suddenly you saw the titan before you drop, dead. It’s blood spraying your face before it evaporated. Then you started falling, before you could hit the ground, a body rammed into you. A pair of familiar arms wrapped around you before landing gently on the ground.

“(Y/N)?” A panicked voice said, you recognized it to be Levi’s. “(Y/N)! Somebody get a medic!” 

Levi stroked your hair, reassuring you that you were going to be fine and asking about your injuries, when you felt his arms pick you up and place you on something hard. A cart, you suppose. You let out a groan of pain, it was obvious that your ribs were shattered, and your legs broken. Blood immediately started pooling under you.

Levi immediately began comforting you. “It’s okay, darling. You’ll be fine. Yo-” He cut himself off with tears streaming down his face, as he glanced down at the pool of blood. “You’re going to be okay. If you even think about dying, I’ll kill you. We still have to get married, remember?” 

You barely managed a small nod before you saw the darkness creeping into your sight, swallowing up the edges of your vision before it would all go black, taking your life and Levi’s happiness with it. 

You shuddered, fear of the unknown paralyzing your every being, but amidst your fear, you could feel a sense of relief. Relief that you would finally be parting from this cruel world, relief that you would no longer be held at the mercy of the titans. Most of all, relief that you would finally be free.

‘What about Levi?’ A voice whispered in your mind. ‘Imagine how depressed he would be. You don’t want that for him… do you?’ 

‘Of course I don’t!’ You wanted to scream, ‘I love Levi with all my heart. Why would I wish him any pain?’

Then live.’ The mysterious voice hissed, but somehow, you didn’t feel intimidated, you felt grateful. That voice is right. I have to live. For Levi. 

However, it seems that while you were having a conversation with your inner voice, you were slowly bleeding out. I know right. What an idiot. It seems as if you were zoning out, causing an extremely worried Heichou to lightly slap your face. When you weren’t responding, Levi retaliated by smacking you very roughly.

“Ouch..” You whispered, trying to brighten the mood a little. 

“(Y/N)!” Levi exclaimed, tears falling from his eyes. “You idiot!

“Thanks darling, really means a lot to me.” You meekly replied, laughing a little, before letting out a cough, blood dribbling out of your mouth.

“Who told you you to protect me?! Now you’re hurt and it’s all my fault!” He screamed. Usually Levi was extremely calm in these types of situations, but seeing you like that… All of his common sense flew out the window.

“I-I’m sorry… It’s not your fault, love. I would do it again if it meant seeing you alive.” You could feel your life force fading away. It didn’t mater if you wanted to live or not. It didn’t matter if you were determined not to leave your beloved fiancee. Because this world is merciless, and it didn’t care about what you wanted, or if it was fair or not.

You made a small noise, Levi immediately reacting. “What? Are you okay? Just hold on, okay? We’re almost to Wall Rose. Just a little longer. Please, I-I c-can’t lose you, not now, not ever.” Levi erupted into small sobs, the thought of you being gone from his life too much to bear.

“L-Levi?” You tried to get his attention, knowing that you only had a limited amount of time left. 

He looked over at you. “I-I’m sorry..” You coughed again, more blood spilling out of your mouth. It seems as if the world was acting crueler than ever, allowing you a slow and painful death rather than a quick and easy one.

“I-I love you..” You had said before shuddering out your ~potentially~ last breath, allowing the darkness to take over your vision, surrendering your fight.

“(Y-Y/N)? Wake up! 

I command you to wake up! 

That’s an order! 

(Y/N)? 

You’re not really gone right? 

I-I love you too..”

Originally posted by athanasia20

Okay, so I know those are a lot of sad Levi pictures, but I couldn’t pick one! I feel like they all represent how Levi feels right now. But lets just say, (Y/N) is a strong person, and (she/he) won’t go down without a fight.

BTS - Reaction to You Getting Attention from the Other Members

Seokjin:
You thought it would be a nice idea to surprise Jin at a photoshoot. You okayed it with the manager beforehand so you didn’t think there would be any issues. However, when you got there Jin was the only one being photographed at the time and the boys had swarmed around you. When Jin saw, he couldn’t help but just want you to himself. He made his way pushing through the boys to stand in front of you. “Y/N, you came to surprise your boyfriend huh?” You giggled and agreed as he pulled you into a hug. He made sure to hold onto you whenever he was free for the rest of the day including a variety of skin ship including cute back hugs, fingers intertwined, and placing an arm around your back.

Yoongi:
Yoongi had invited you to eat dinner with him and the boys at the dorm for the night. He looked over as he was helping Jin in the kitchen and noticed that Taehyung was sitting particularly close to you. Yoongi knew how Tae could be so he kept an eye on you both until he was free to come join you. As he was walking over he heard Tae asking you, “So Y/N, are you and Yoongi hyung a thing?” As you glanced up you saw him making his way towards you and started to answer, “Well..” Then Yoongi sat next to you and placed an arm around your shoulder, “does this answer your question?” You then placed a kiss on his cheek to help prove the point.

Hoseok:
Hoseok could not help but notice the affection that the maknaes were showing towards you while you were hanging out at the dorms. They kept trying to get your attention and making you laugh. He tried to hide his jealousy but was sure to wrap his arms around you whenever he could. You ended up laying your head on his shoulder and he ended up smiling like an adorable idiot. “Hobi,” you would say quietly turning your head to look up at him, “this is really nice.” He would agree and then kiss your forehead.

Namjoon:
When Namjoon left the room to go to the restroom and returned to find Hobi and Jin flirting with you he couldn’t help but interrupt whatever was going on. “Hey guys, what are you talking about?” Joon said placing an arm around each of the boys. “We were just talking to Y/N about work,” Jin responded while giving you a wink. “Well I hope you had a nice conversation, sadly I’ll be stealing Y/N, we were going to visit a café for lunch.” He casually moved forward and placed an arm around your waist, “Ready babe?” You nodded and you both made your way outside. “Babe?” You questioned. “Yeah, you like it?” You giggled and he pulled you closer.

Jimin:
Jimin noticed that you and Kookie were looking quite cozy while you were waiting in the rehearsal room his practice to be over. He would glance over and see you laughing at something Jungkook said which would take his mind off practicing. He wanted to get your attention away from Kookie. So, he starting dancing very provocatively in front of you. When he noticed that you were staring at him and that your cheeks became flushed, he felt very accomplished.

Taehyung:
Tae and you were sitting on the couch at your apartment when your phone kept lighting up on the coffee table. You moved forward to check it and burst out laughing. “What is so funny?” He asked wondering what made you so delighted. “Oh, nothing, it was just something than Jimin sent me.” He noticed that you and Jimin had become good friends during the time that you had been spending with the boys. He knew that it was nothing romantic but it still made him jealous from time to time. So, to get your attention back onto him he moved forward and wrapped his arms around you. Then he proceeded to start kissing your neck. You put the phone down turned around to kiss him on the lips. “I have your attention now.” He said in his deep voice with a sly smirk.

Jungkook:
“Y/N, you look really pretty today.” The maknaes were showering you in complements. You had dressed up in a very nice outfit for your date night with Kookie. As he was finishing getting ready is his room he left you to relax in the living room of the dorm with the boys. He was walking towards you when he heard these comments and felt a spark of jealousy. “Of course she does,” he said as he wrapped an arm around you, “she always looks beautiful.” You started blushing and the boys made oohs and aahs at their youngest brother’s PDA. He playfully kissed you on the cheek as not to draw to much more attention to you. “Shall we?” You let him lead you out of the dorm hand in hand.


Masterlist