places we meet

don't || stiles stilinski

word count: 4755

warnings: angst

prompt: based on 1x07 (Night School)

author’s note: i just want to thank @themadkingx for proof-reading this for me! i’ve been talking to her for a couple of days and she’s so sweet! also thank you @sarcasticallystilinski for the gif! (not my gif)

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Evening Classes & FaceTime Calls

Raphael Santiago imagine

Summary: You were turned into a vampire a couple of years ago on the disastrous night you’ve died. When the new guy, Simon, needs to learn some things, you help him, but not without running into some trouble getting back to the hotel, making Raphael very angry for getting in trouble. But why?

A/N: I’m about to leave on a trip to Amsterdam. I’m hoping to get some writing done, but I can’t promise anything. I hope you’ll like this one.

Prompts: “Are you hitting on me?” – “Wrong day to piss me off.” – “My weekend plans did not involve dying.”

Masterlist



“Ugh.” You let out a deep sigh and let yourself fall onto the sofa, leaning your head backwards. You stared at the ceiling for a couple of seconds, before closing your eyes.

“That bad huh?” You opened your eyes to see Raphael staring in your eyes from above you, trying not to smile.

“Can you remind me once more why I thought this would be a good idea?” You asked, still leaning your head backwards, looking up at him.

He moved to come sit besides you on the couch, making you turn your head so you were laying on your ear, still not lifting you head up.

“For the record, I never said taking evening classes was a good idea.” He leaned his arm against the couch, and rested his head against his hand.

You closed your eyes and let out another sigh. “I know, it’s just,” you paused, searching for the right words, but Raphael finished your thoughts for you. “You never got the chance while you were human, I know.” He looked at you with sorrow in his eyes. “I get it, I died at fifteen. I missed out on a lot of things as well.”

You looked away from his eyes, not wanting to show the pity you felt for him, as it would only make the situation even worse.

You lifted your head up just a bit. “Raphael,” you silently started, but you got interrupted when the new guy walked in.

“Wow, who died in here?” Simon said when he felt the vibe in the room, making Raphael glare at him, while you just looked at him out of the corner of your eyes.

“Wrong crowd.” He muttered when he saw your expressions.

You lifted your head when you thought about something. “You’re smart, right?” You asked suddenly, making both of the guys look at you.

“Uhm, I guess?” He said, sounding insecure.

“Is there a chance you could help me with my statistics class?” You asked hopeful.

“Sure.” He grinned.

“Actually,” Raphael added from beside you, “could you help him as well? You know, some training and vamp 101 stuff.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Vamp 101 stuff?”

Raphael rolled his eyes. “You know what I mean.”

“Sure.” You gave Simon a small smile, and turned your gaze back at Raphael. “By the time we’ll be done with each other, I’ll be a mathematical genius, and he’ll be the best vampire you’ve ever seen.”

Raphael let out a small snort. “Sure.” He nodded while being sarcastic. “Be sure to be back by five.”

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talking to strangers online is so wild like one time i posted fanfics on deviantart and the next thing i know i’m talking to two of my readers who are from my country who are sisters who are also my neighbors who also turn out to be my cousins like lmao so wild i didn’t know i had other cousins haha

Jack Maynard Imagine - More than this.

Mentions of smut.

Jack couldn’t count how many girls he had ever slept with using all his ten fingers. But he could count how many of those girls had arpooned his heart, because he needed exactly zero fingers. And you thought you were no exception. 

As you gathered your things from the already messy floor of Jack’s bedroom, after a rather fun night at his place, you could feel his eyes burning on the back of your neck “A picture lasts longer” you told him without looking at him. 

You heard him laughing “If I don’t take pictures of your beautiful body I might have an excuse to see it again” he smirked, and you playfully rolled your eyes.

Jack and you have been friends with benefits for a little over four months now. When you met, you instantly clicked. Jack was one of the few boys who could make you laugh until your stomach hurt. He was so genuine and hot, the combination killed you. So when one thing led to another a few days after your first encounter, you weren’t going to stop him.

You always thought he would be good in bed. But oh god, had it been an understatement. He was rough enough for your preferences, yet he knew when to be caring. As you put your jeans back on, you realized that night was the first time in four months that you had actually made love. 

He texted you to hang out at his place, but you knew where it was going to lead. You accepted anyways. You started watching YouTube, and somehow you ended up surrounded by too-cute cat videos. Suddenly, the heavy sexual tension between you vanished for the first time, and Jack looked at you with different eyes.  

As you cooed at the cats, wearing one of his hoodies you had accidently stolen from his bedroom floor - which he let you keep -, his heart softened. Jack did everything he could to stop it, really. He started imagining you on your knees like you had been the previous week, pleasuring him the way he loved so much. That image had worked before, but you kept being cute, and his mind soon wandered to a more passionate scenario, where he was caressing you instead of thrusting roughly into you.

Suddenly, you were sitting on his lap, kissing him hungrily. But he wasn’t feeling it. He got a tight grip of your hips and pushed you down on the sofa, so he could be on top. You liked it when he was in control. You went for his mouth again, not being able to stop yourself from wanting to feel him again, but he stopped you.

You frowned, making him chuckle “Let’s try something new” he smirked, and you were confused for a moment before he locked his lips with yours. He started moving them at a really slow pace, and you unexpectly relaxed. His tongue found yours not long afterwards, playing with it passionately. The slowness was killing you, yet sending chills down your spine you had never felt before.

That night, he made love to you, the steadiness yet caressing of his thrusts killing you slowly. Your mouths were locked most of the time, something that rarely happened, since you were usually too busy screaming and moaning his name. Something about that night was different, and when Jack finally plopped his weight down next to you, holding your waist close to his body, you knew something had changed.

You tried to sleep your feelings away, but the fact that you could feel Jack running his fingers up and down your back and kissing the top of your head as you fell asleep didn’t help at all. The worst part was, you thought you could get used to it.

“Ha-ha” you mocked him, throwing your -his- hoodie on “Funny”

“I know” he smirked.

You ran a hand through your hair to untangle it before putting it up in a ponytail “So” you said, ready to leave. You looked at him, who was still under the covers, as he looked at you with weird eyes. You ignored him “Saturday, 7pm, your place?” you asked him. This was how you worked. You met late at night a couple of days a week, and pretended the other one didn’t exist until the next time. You felt yourself growing annoyed at that routine, but you couldn’t pin down why.

“I was thinking” he started, his morning voice making you want to crawl back into bed with him “Maybe instead of meeting at my place we could meet at Picadilly? Same time, same day”

You gave him a confused look “To do what?” You were baffled. What was the point of meeting so far away, to end up at his place anyway?

His hand went to the back of his neck to scratch it “I thought that maybe we could…you know” he said, and you could tell he was nervous. You suddenly liked the situation “I want to take you out, alright?” he spat out, catching you off guard.

“Like, on a date?” you asked him, feeling stupid as the question left your mouth. You had never dated anyone before, not seriously anyway. You felt as if you needed to have a strong bond with someone to want more than sex with him. As you looked at Jack, looking all flustered and adorable in front of you, you thought maybe you could give it a try.

“Yeah, a date” he said “No sex, just actual conversation” you raised an eyebrow, a playful smirk forming on your face. You knew he wouldn’t be able to keep his hands off you for the whole night, but you said nothing “If you want to, that is”

You chukled lightly as you walked over to him and sat down on the edge of his bed. His arms immediately went to grab your hips, pulling you against him “I’d love to, Jack” you said, pressing your forehead against his. 

His hand reached your cheek, stroking it delicately. Both of your hearts didn’t know where to hide from the rollercoaster of feelings that was flying over them. So instead of saying anything, instead of thinking, you closed the gap between your lips and hoped for the best.

The sudden ache on Jack’s chest revealed that maybe he wasn’t as cold hearted as he thought. That maybe now, when they asked him how many times he had fallen in love, he’d need one finger to count them. 

anonymous asked:

garderenza backstory headcanons pleaseeee xxx

I feel like other people have done this better, but sure, i’ll give it a shot!

  • they are both masters of their craft when they meet. royalty (some far-flung noble, in Italy or Spain or Prussia) has brought together the best musicians in the world, and the courtiers are told to keep the maestro and the madame apart, whatever it takes. musicians are famous for their egos—and no one is more famous than Garderobe, the reigning queen of opera, and Cadenza, master of the harpsichord. Cadenza has been known to throw people from his room for daring to question a note—and Garderobe, people say, turns sulky and silent if not given her due attention.
  • it’s utterly no problem to give her attention, of course. the lady has the voice of angels, jewels, kings, gods—no description covers the rapture when she decides to sing.
  • and cadenza—why, everyone loves cadenza’s songs. Of course, his playing is a bit sharp, a bit too precise, people say. A little too well-done. He’s never been in love, say his teachers, how is he to play with passion otherwise? He has the skill but not the reason.
  • Anyway, so, the servants are given their orders: keep the musicians away from each other. They’d compete and get cross and we shan’t have our musical revue, says the King.
  • On different sides of the palace, separated by a courtyard, Cadenza and Garderobe unpack their bags and lay out their clothes. Their schedules are planned down to a minute. The two shall never cross, not if his majesty’s servants get their way. Garderobe requests a cup of honey and lemon to warm up her voice. Cadenza’s been up for 15 hours and asks for a cup of coffee to keep himself going.
  • The performance is in an hour. Cadenza sits at the harpsichord he’s requested for his private room and plays one note.
  • Across the courtyard, Garderobe opens her window and warms her throat with one descending scale.
  • The intersection of the notes is not heard in the palace. The courtyard’s fountain is noisy—the ivy climbing the walls damps the noise—the cries of serving-boys and rich coquettes are all more pressing. But Cadenza hears it.
  • Garderobe is surprised by the sound of the note against her voice, but keeps going. There aren’t any more after it. The palace is quiet beyond the yells and the cries and the fountains and ivy and horses and stomping and dancing and running and cooking and baking and thinking and doing. She warms up to higher notes, longer scales, a brighter sound.
  • Across the courtyard, Cadenza sits at the harpsichord, not touching it for once in his life. For once his hands do not hit the keys, but rest forgotten on their ivory backs. The concentration of his face has lapsed and he looks like he is lost.
  • No more notes. Garderobe keeps going—descending, ascending, sending her voice to new and different places. She goes for the most difficult exercise yet, one that makes her jump between vastly different notes exactly on pitch—
  • And is surprised by the keys and notes suddenly intertwining around her voice, drifting in from her open window, springing in all around the gaps and lulls of her voice to complement it with arpeggios and accents. The musician behind the sound is building on her voice in a way she’s never heard before. Garderobe has always had rather condescending opinions toward harpsichordists—always banging away behind her voice, or running too much ahead, or just hitting the notes and not the way she feels them—but this experience denies them all, and smacks her in the face with power and sensitivity.
  • She reaches for the highest note she can, and the music cuts off immediately. She is immediately disappointed; again, she has outrun the competition, again rebuked an artist with her mastery. She holds the note, more from habit than anything else.
  • and slowly, slowly, quietly, pianissimo, hears the harpsichord climbing back to her. She is gobsmacked—that wasn’t a silence, that wasn’t shame, that was an intentional pause, done by a fellow artist, because he recognized the weight just her pure voice had at that moment. He had put the music above himself, above his own playing, above embarrassment or envy.
  • The musician, whoever he or she is, finishes the cadence totally attuned to her. She stops and listens, listens hard, trying to hear over the fountain and the palace who could be such a maestro.
  • Loudly, from all the way across the courtyard: “KEEP SINGING!”
  • A tiny figure in a giant wig waves to her, gestures. “AGAIN! AGAIN!”
  • She lets out one long, shrill note of recognition.
  • “BRAVISSIMA!”
  • When it is time for the concert, the servants, proud of their ability to manage it so well as to keep the artists caged in their rooms all day, strut to the doors and knock with confident hands.
  • “Maestro? It is time to begin. If you would just follow me here, down the eastern staircase.”
  • “Mademoiselle? The western staircase, please.” 
  • “Maestro?”
  • “Mademoiselle?”
  • Tea and coffee are spilled as the servants search the rooms. There is no opera singer. There is no harpsichord master. In consequence, there shall be no musical revue.
  • In the back labyrinth Cadenza kisses Garderobe’s hand, shyly. She laughs and drops her glove for him. They walk beneath orange trees and talk a little, and he asks that she sing, and he hums the notes beside her, his eyes lost on her face.
  • They never perform for that King, not in that palace. But they are always grateful to him, and send him flowers, now and then, and crates of tea and coffee. “If it weren’t for that courtyard,” they say, “we might not have heard the other. How clever your servants were to place us so we should meet.”
  • Cadenza’s music mellows out; his teachers retire with smiles on their faces. “He learned to love,” they say, even before they are told.
  • Garderobe’s voice reaches higher notes, transcends beyond the heavens. If anyone could look away before, no one does so now. They court, they marry, they travel the world. One day they decide to visit Villeneuve. They heard the prince there did not appreciate the tenderness of music, but gold coins are catching, and the two have a weak spot for cake and company and lavish balls. Afterward, on to Florence, and then Vienna. Glamor, music, each and the other, they need not live in Villeneuve.
  • Cadenza tunes his instrument, Garderobe warms her throat. Their eyes meet and her hand touches his face. Then she turns to the partygoers and starts to sing.
  • One night in Villeneuve.

22. (MIRROR TRIPTYCH)

un.

when i look at people, i get the feeling that i am looking at them but i am not looking at all. i’m not looking at anyone at all, really. i just gaze at myself from different angles. different ages, haircuts, heights. expressions.

i never see new faces. i see myself multiplied. i cannot talk to new people without feeling a sense of repetition / of again / of boredom. i have no patience. i think that to get to know someone you must be very selfless and i am not. i am very full of myself. of my own image. when i look into a stranger’s eyes i cannot admire the width of their pupils. i just look for my reflection all the time. i don’t know why.

deux.

i want to always be undressed because i believe that clothes give people a sense of shame and they act as a barrier. i imagine walking naked on the street, talking to people without any shield. it makes me feel relaxed. i want to be fluid. like cinema. i don’t like stopping the frames and overthinking. i want to follow my very own script. i want to pronounce the lines i have written for myself correctly and i want my emotions to be minimal.

i don’t like thick books. i don’t like talking to someone for the first time. if i must talk to you for the first time or if you must talk to me for the first time, i am not interested in your presence in the first place. if we did not meet before, not in person but as ideas of each other, as archetypes, i am not interested in revealing myself or my words to you.

sometimes i get loud. i try to block the thoughts in my head but most of the time i end up quite quiet internally, analysing each movement / each blink / each inflexion. i am full of myself and i have no room to let others in. i am full of myself and i need room to let others in. i am full of myself and void of you.

trois.

time

i know so little about time. i only think of time when you are not around. when we are not speaking while we take care of our lives. i see this very soft sand slipping through fingers and little smiles and little gestures of affection or someone leaning in too closely and inspecting my entire face…mmm. i don’t think of time at all unless i think of all the years left unheard, unspoken. without you. i find myself at a loss of …it gets quiet sometimes in my brain. i need to vocalise and try to give myself an inner voice. stimulate myself. i ask myself ‘what do you think about the color of the sky today?’ and i answer ‘i think it’s quite gloomy’. stimulation of the self is highly important.

i hold my breath and i count to eight but sometimes i can hold it for a longer time so i can go up to nine or even twelve seconds. my cheeks grow pale and then i exhale for just as long as i held my breath and i feel relived. 

i must always hold my breath sometimes so that i can remember what it felt like to be underwater and how it feels now to be on the shore. with you.

Why does no one talk about the conversation in the parking garage in Little Green Men? The entire ep is ship, tbh, but CITG (yeah I gave it an acronym) is basically EVERYTHING yet no one talks about it. We learn they have a secret way of communicating and a secret meeting place. We get the look of joy on Scully’s face when she sees Mulder…honestly, it’s enough to convince me that Dana Scully fell in love first.

We get the beautiful exchange between them…Scully’s gentle insistence that it was safe for them to meet and her acknowledgement that she went through their secret code charade just to see if he was alright.

We get Mulder admitting that he learned that from her, his need for evidence. And finally, we get that Adorable Hair Ruffle that makes me audibly squeak every time I see it.

My left hand will live longer than my right. The rivers
of my palms tell me so.
Never argue with rivers. Never expect your lives to finish
at the same time. I think

praying, I think clapping is how hands mourn. I think
staying up and waiting
for paintings to sigh is science. In another dimension this
is exactly what’s happening,

it’s what they write grants about: the chromodynamics
of mournful Whistlers,
the audible sorrow and beta decay of Old Battersea Bridge.
I like the idea of different

theres and elsewheres, an Idaho known for bluegrass,
a Bronx where people talk
like violets smell. Perhaps I am somewhere patient, somehow
kind, perhaps in the nook

of a cousin universe I’ve never defiled or betrayed
anyone. Here I have
two hands and they are vanishing, the hollow of your back
to rest my cheek against,

your voice and little else but my assiduous fear to cherish.
My hands are webbed
like the wind-torn work of a spider, like they squeezed
something in the womb

but couldn’t hang on. One of those other worlds
or a life I felt
passing through mine, or the ocean inside my mother’s belly
she had to scream out.

Here, when I say I never want to be without you,
somewhere else I am saying
I never want to be without you again. And when I touch you
in each of the places we meet,

in all of the lives we are, it’s with hands that are dying
and resurrected.
When I don’t touch you it’s a mistake in any life,
in each place and forever.

—  Bob Hicok, “Other Lives and Dimensions and Finally a Love Poem”, in Plus Shipping
We’re going to be doing a new album in late summer/autumn. We’ll be buying a recording studio which is very exciting, never done that before. It’ll be great to have something as a band, quite a natural place we can meet. At the moment we’ll meet in Pete’s place in France, or in London, but hopefully we’ll have somewhere where we can go ‘OK let’s meet at Libertines HQ’.
—  John Hassall talking about new Libs’ album here

The future that never happens
is the one that makes us do
what we do while we are waiting
for what is never going to come
to take us away from the past,
which is a country that we do not
know anymore, where the language
is strange, only almost familiar.

Years not only go by, they carry us
into places where we meet the dragons,
the gorgons, the pack of wolves
circling with their sharp teeth, and
sometimes we lift a candle, sometimes curse.
Like scarecrows, we scare a bird or two.
We know what we are and are not.

But still we keep on dreaming, warming
our hands over the fire in that cottage
at the end of the road—where everything
is prepared for us, and someone we
never met has departed only minutes ago.

Joyce Sutphen, from  “A Dream of the Future,” The Green House (Salmon Poetry, 2017)

Dance With The Devil (ii)

word count: 1 688
warnings: none

*gif by me


previous part: here


Part II

Kai had been intrigued by the girl he had just met. Even though he knew she’d probably hate him like everyone else, he wanted her to see his true self. He wanted to show her that he wasn’t the person everyone said he was.

Although he couldn’t feel her magic, he was sure she was a witch. Otherwise, she wouldn’t have been able to tell he’s a Siphoner. She wouldn’t even know about them.

He just needed to arrive home earlier than her. At least he would see her one more time this way. Once she was back, he was sure she wasn’t even going to look at him anymore. She would treat him like everyone else in the Coven, he believed.

Impatiently, he awaited her arrival. He had cloaked himself not to catch too much attention when he sneaked around near the door.

Suddenly there was a knock. Kai lifted the spell up, opening the door with a smirk on his face. Like he thought it was her.

“Long time no see.” He chuckled, seeing her startled expression. She certainly hadn’t been prepared to see him again this fast.

“Y/N! There you are!” Never has she been happier to hear Jo’s voice. She stood in the corridor, looking at her brother’s wide grin and Y/N’s apparent confusion.

Y/N made her way past Kai who lightly - nearly unnoticed - brushed his fingers against her hand. But she did feel it. His touch short as it lasted seemed to ignite a fire deep inside of her. She shook the feeling away, following Jo back in her room. Lucas and Olivia continued playing in their own room instead of Jo’s so that the brunette and Y/N had more space when they closed the door behind them.

“He’s your twin brother, isn’t he?” Y/N asked. That’s why he had seemed familiar; she must’ve seen him at one of the coven meetings before.

Jo’s face turned dark as she slowly nodded.

“Just ignore him, that’s what I always do.” She explained, shocking Y/N with that answer.

Although she was an only child and therefore had no idea how she’d handle siblings, she knew ignoring someone completely wasn’t right. Especially if it’s someone in your own family. “But he is your brother. Your twin even.”

Jo turned towards her, a hint of bitterness showing on her face.

“No, he’s an abomination. Trust me, Y/N, I know him better than you do. He’s no good.” She said, and in a sudden change of expression, she smiled again. “Anyway, enough about that. Is there anything you’d like to do?”

Y/N didn’t answer right away. She was still thinking about what Jo had said earlier. A bad feeling crept up on her - she knew why Jo called his own brother an abomination. It was all because he was different. Because he was a Siphoner. Just like her.

Automatically her hand had reached towards the amulet around her neck, tightly holding the pendant filled with magic. Nervously she played with it hoping Jo wouldn’t read too much into it. If they even treated her own brother, their own child, like this because he was different, what would they do to someone who didn’t even belongs to the family? What would they do to her?

“Y/N? Is everything alright? You’re really pale.” Jo was worried, bringing Y/N back to reality. 

Quickly she came up with an excuse, “Yeah… umm… I’m just… hungry. I haven’t eaten in all day.”

It was evident that she hadn’t convinced Jo but nevertheless, she stood up, asking Y/N to follow her. They walked downstairs again, directly heading into the kitchen. A boy not older than twelve currently prepared a few sandwiches. 

Y/N heard her stomach growl at the sight of all the different sandwiches. Until now she hadn’t even realized that her subterfuge wasn’t just a pretense but the truth, too. 

“Hey Joey, do you mind if we take some of these?” Jo asked, tousling his brown locks. 

“Mother said they are for our guests.” He answered looking around like someone who got caught doing the wrong thing. “She also said we’d have to wait until everyone else arrives.”

While Jo tried to convince her brother, Y/N glimpsed someone else quietly walking through the corridor. It was Kai. At that moment something hit her. He knew about her secret. How could she even think for one second he wasn’t going to spill the truth about what she was? Why came it just now into her mind that he even could’ve done it already? Joshua could already be on his way to send her away. 

Her breath got caught in her throat, as fear started to creep it. “Jo? Do you have any idea where I can find my parents?” Her voice was high, and she spoke faster than usual. 

Jo raised an eyebrow, obviously confused. 

“They’re probably in father’s office. It’s the second door on the right if you walk through the hall.” She replied.

Y/N muttered a “thank you” before she left them alone and went to Joshua’s office. But ere she arrived she was pressed against the wall. 

“This definitely ha-” Kai put his index finger on his lips, implying she should shut up. The girl rolled her eyes; nonetheless, she kept quiet. 

Again she felt his touch on her cheek as he leaned forwards to whisper something in her ear. “There’s an old well near the place we met. Meet me there tonight.” 

He hadn’t even given her time to answer or to even think about it; he had just vanished into thin air before she could say anything. Y/N stared at where he had stand moving her own hand against her cheek. She still felt the warmth, and she was sure she had blushed. 

Kai wanted to meet her, privately. Maybe he didn’t talk to anyone about her. Maybe her family’s secret was his secret now, too. A small smile appeared on her face, hoping that finally, she had someone outside her family she could come to. After all these years of hiding maybe she’d finally found the one person she could trust. But could she trust him? Despite anything he must be going through, he still was the son of the leader of the Gemini’s. 

Y/N couldn’t tell how much time had passed after Kai had left since she was lost in thought. She even forgot what she originally wanted to do. At least that was the case until the door to Joshua’s office had been opened and her mom walked out. She was astonished to find her daughter sitting there staring at a spot on the wall. 

Only after she had called her name multiple times, Y/N awoke from her thoughts.  

“Hi, mom.” She greeted her, flashing up a little smile. Standing up again she brushed off the dust from her trousers. “Can I talk to your for a sec? It’s about… it. Kind of.”

“I don’t think it’s the best time or place. Can’t it wait until later when we got to our hotel?”

“I thought we’d stay in the guest rooms.” Y/N marveled. As far as she could remember they had always stayed at the Coven’s headquarter never before had they booked hotel rooms. 

Even though she hadn’t made her mind up if she really wanted to go to meet Kai she was sure it would be impossible if they stayed at a hotel. Depending on how far away it was there was no way she’d get to the spot where they were supposed to meet. 

“Not this time. We thought it would be better not to stay the night. Just in case something happens. But the hotel isn’t far away. It’s nearly two miles from here; we can even walk there.” Her mother explained. 

Y/N nodded. Maybe it was possible to meet Kai. 

“We will soon go.” Her mother promised. “In an hour at the latest. But I need to go now.” 

One last time she smiled at her, turning around and walking back into the office. Y/N, unsure of what she should do now, decided to go back to the kitchen. Perchance Jo had managed to steal some sandwiches from Joey. 

Like she hoped both of them were still there, now together with another girl with blonde hair. 

“Here, I finally got you some.” Jo said as she saw Y/N standing in the door frame. She handed her plate with three ham sandwiches. Y/N thanked her and sat down, the plate in front of her. 

“Hi, I’m Lena.” The blonde girl introduced herself as she sat down across from her. “I’m their sister.” A big smile on her face, she shook hands with Y/N. 

They all talked and laughed while Y/N was slowly eating the sandwiches. She liked the Parker kids (at least the ones she had met already, she knew there were two more children) but was afraid how they’d behave if they find out what she was. 

Nearly an hour later people were walking out of the office. People Y/N recognized as coven members. Here parents were the last ones to come out, waving to Y/N. 

“I need to go now. See you tomorrow?” She said, the last part sounding more like a question than a goodbye. 

She walked up to her parents, following everyone else as they left the house. 

Meanwhile, Kai was standing in his room looking out the small window from which he could see every departing person. Just as he thought she wouldn’t be with them, she appeared in his field of view. 

He watched her every step, a smile spreading across his face. There was just something mesmerizing about her he couldn’t quite understand. Suddenly she turned her head around, looking at the window like she knew she was being watched. If he hadn’t gazed at her closely, he wouldn’t have realized she was giving him a small, hardly noticeable, nod. 

She had made up her mind. They would meet again tonight. Just the two of them, free to talk about whatever Kai wanted to tell her. Or whatever Y/N wanted to tell Kai.


→next part: here

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170128 Letter from Ryeowook (1)

To my beloved ELF,

Are yu doing well? Everyone~ ^^ Are you feeling blue because you guys are going to be a year older or are you liking the thought of being a more matured person? k This oppa’s morning as a 31 year old… TT I difficultly woke up and I couldn’t see the sun well so I welcomed it gloomily (?) kkk As I was writing, I realized I write informally,eh? ~ I’m an oppa so it’s okay right? ^^ I am 31 years old! When I came into the army, even thought I don’t have a firsthand access to what’s happening in the society, I could know it through TV, internet and through our E.L.F.’s letters~ Thank you~ Are you being comforted by watching ‘Voice’ after finishing 'Goblin’? kkk Us too (army band members), we soften our hearts while watching it kk I was once a drama fanatic ~ I heard that Yesungie hyung’s drama is now out~ I’m extremely happy~ kk Anyways, drama is love~kk Time flew fast and after my letter last November 6, this is the first long letter I’ve written since then~ I also want to write more often~ But I realized I really need to have time to adjust when I came to the army band~ I am also assigned to play an instrument so I am practising alto saxophone~ There were also lots of events, we have events here and there~ That’s why kkk Oppa also sings, right? I also sing sometimes~ Eunhyukku hyung told me I’d be singing The Little Prince for more than 100 times but I haven’t done that yet~ kk Maybe I’d do it a little by little then? Anyways, I am doing well~^^ Our E.L.F. could only know news about me through my letters… but I made you wait~ I’m sorry~ Now I will write letters once a month~! Wait for it~ Okay?^^^! (Promise) Ah! I have my 5 successors~ kk They are kind and they are also soldiers who do their duties well~! Thanks to them, I who’s still lacking, could confidently live here! Wah! We need to gather now to eat kk I will write again after eating~kk Please wait for a moment~ I love you still (needlessly loving~ kkk)

170128 Letter from Ryeowook (2)

Is everyone receiving lots of New Year luck? January has almost gone by~ and February is coming! From Private Kim Ryeowook, I’ll be moving to private first class kkkk If we come to think of it~ I was just Trainee #40 then~ and before we knew it I’m already private first class~ kk I don’t know if it’s because I can adjust so well that’s why I am living well here~ Don’t worry ^^ Consciously or unconsciously, I know that everyone is worrying about me~ But I’m doing very well that my predecessors are surprised~ kk My predecessors are younger than me except for one so I nicely get along well with them! When I write to you in a rolling paper style, I will also send to you the stories of my senior and junior colleagues~ you will feel like 'Ah, our Ryeowook oppa is getting along well with these kind of good people~’ Ah! Few days ago I got a call and knew that they had a Lotte Fanmeeting… did they do well~?! It would have been better if I was in that event~ Now there’d be more places that we could meet~ Just cuddle and be well with our hyungs~! Okay?! During the year-end, I herd that S.E.S. had their concert… and they released an album… you informed me through letters… an that Bada noona is getting married and you asked if I am okay with it~ kkkk To our E.L.F. who consoled me… kk…. I’m okay … ;; TT kkkk Should I use my vacation day on her wedding day~ kkkk Anyways, congratulations Bada noona on your wedding~ ^^ I am really envious, I only wish you much happiness

170128 Letter from Ryeowook (3)

Ah~ While doing training in a cold weather, I had many thoughts~ When it snowed, we sweep it away~ because it’s cold~ I have always thought that I should live while being thankful for the smallest things~ But then I felt that I should have live with a more, more, more thankful heart~ Our ELF too, whenever you see a soldier passing by, could you think about us too!! kkk While contacting our members, our hyungs, Kyuhyunnie and Henry~ and Zhou Mi hyung too, I felt sorry that I wasn’t able to take care of them more~ ^^ I should reflect more and feel it~! (I am reflecting~) Anyways, whenever I see the activities of our members on TV, it’s weird but I’m touched~ kkk I am more confident and proud~ I am now a baldie so I live forgetting that I am a celebrity haha. Now I divide my time, I study~~ I exercise~ I practice singing too and I also take care of my skin well~ Our ELF too, you know that have to be prettier, smarter and healthier too, okay? You drink Vitamin C, right? Yoo also have to drink Omega 3 and Vitamin E (I added~ kk) Don’t forget it~!! To those ELF who are drinking alcohol, please only drink a little~ You have to take care of your future~ (End of nagging~ kkkk) There are many starts in the skies of Jeungpyeong~ While looking at the stars one by one… if I am on duty, it was just a few months ago when it seemed that I haven’t thought of looking at the sky~ It was amazing~ If you incidentally look at the stars in the sky every night, (we will be) looking at the same star~ ^^ ~ (Like a star you’re my angel~) Let’s meet in our dreams too tonight~ I have so many things that I wanted to say~ Wah~ I grabbed a pen and it was a bit too awkward so it’s not neat~ Please understand me~ ^^ Receive many blessings in 2017~ Thank you for reading my first letter in the new year~ I want to do a voice message or video message (needlessly … again~kkk) I love you everyday~ You can’t catch a cold! (My current body condition is very good~ kkk) Love yourself!

P.s. Our senior and junior colleagues are so cute, right? There are people who haven’t written yet, they will write in  February~  kk Annyeong

2017.01.25 Ryeowookie

Translations by tinyyhae

Still In Love

So I’m not totally in love with this, but thought I’d post it cause I can. So enjoy ??

Word count: 848 (it’s short ik)



”Who’s this?” He said.

Your heart broke, he must have deleted your number from his contacts.

”Hello?” You heard from the other side, you quickly hung up. Realizing calling him was stupid. You broke his heart, he didn’t want anything to do with you anymore. Calling him only made it worse, for you and for him. Throwing yourself into his life again would be a mistake. It would only make him mad and you didn’t want that, after all, you still loved Shawn.. Very very much and you couldn’t seem to forget him. Which made it harder. You still felt butterflies in your stomach every time you heard him on the radio or saw his name pop up somewhere, you couldn’t keep it together.

It was so so hard, it’s almost funny. You loved him as much as you did first time you saw him. His fluffy brown hair tickling you as he left hickeys on your neck and his beautiful face. Not only did you miss that, but the late night calls and face-timing while he was on tour. The ’goodnight’ and ’don’t forget to drink lots of water’ texts he always sent. Him purposely leaving hoodies behind for you to wear when you miss him. He always took care of you when you were sick, he’d call you everyday and always tell you how much he loved you. How could you forget that? He is the most loving, caring and gentle person you know, yet you still managed to fuck him up somehow.

Your phone vibrated in your hand, ripping you from your thoughts. ”Who is this?” the text said. Your heart started pounding, faster and harder. What should you do?

”It’s Y/N” You wrote, but deleted. You couldn’t, you knew you would regret it the second after and probably block his number so you wouldn’t see his reaction.

”It’s Y/N” you typed again, this time sending it and immediately regretting it.

Nothing happened, he didn’t reply. You collapsed onto your bed, sighing. Why did you do that? Couldn’t you just keep it to yourself? Your thoughts were interrupted once again by the vibration.

”Why did you call?” Was all he said. You quickly typed in, ”It was a mistake, I’m sorry” and sent it. You waited a moment before seeing his name show up on the screen, you waited a second cause you didn’t want to seem desperate. Even though it was stupid cause he knew you were holding your phone in your hand at the moment. You took a deep breath before answering.

”Uh hey, Shawn. I’m sorry I called, it was stupid” You said, heart pounding hard and fast once again. The nervosity kicked in and it felt like the room was spinning. What would he say? Will he say anything? Would he hang up? All these questions popped up in your head before he said,

”No it’s fine. I meant to call you, but you know, work..” He said. You could see him infront of you scratching his neck and biting his lip, since you did. It all came so sudden, you didn’t expect him to call you, at least not after what you did. You broke his heart, for the lamest reason.

”You did?” You said without hesitation. ”I mean, you did?” You corrected.

”Yea, I mean.. I..” He stopped. Hearing his voice tore you apart, it hurt so bad. You hadn’t spoke to him for months and now hearing his voice just hurt so damn much. But you couldn’t pull yourself out of it now, it’s too late. ”Yea, yea.. I should’ve called you, I mean” He finished.

”Uh” You laughed quietly into the phone, ”Yea, I should, you know, maybe go..” You finally said. You didn’t know what to respond or what to do. It could all go so wrong, just one wrong step and it all would be destroyed and you’d maybe never hear his voice again. More likely, never see him again. Which broke your heart, as you were still deeply in love with him, even after all these months, he probably felt nothing for you.

”No!” He quickly said. ”Or, I would like to meet you.. sometime, maybe talk about, stuff?” His words made you smile massively, biting your lip. Almost feeling embarrassed at the excitement.

”Yea, we could meet up this weekend? If you’re in town, you know..” You suggested. You could hear his relaxing sigh on the other side, which made you relax as well. He happily replied, ”Yes I am actually, I’ll text you some place where we can meet up!” and we hung up.

You waited a while for Shawn to text you details on where to meet and you already were nervous. You would finally see him again and this time, you were NOT gonna ruin it. Nothing could go wrong. You were gonna tell him about your feelings, he would take you back and you would live happily ever after, right?

”Meet me down at Adelaide Street and we’ll talk”, he finally texted.

Yeah.. No he wouldn’t.

Zee & The War Machines, pt.2

Marvel AU

Comic Artist! Steve Rogers x Singer!Reader

Characters: Steve Rogers, Bucky Barnes, Natasha Romanoff, Tony Stark, Pepper Potts, Elektra, Gwen Stacy, Kate Bishop, Peter Quill and others.

A/N: Be warned the romance will not be the center of this story, hell, it’s probably gonna take a backseat to other characters and relationships. Just enjoy this lighthearted fun fic, let the story go where it must.

All parts edited by @travelwithwords

Summary: Zee & The War Machines is your band, your life, your baby. Your bandmates and you are preparing for a US tour and have enlisted the help from your personal assistant Natasha Romanoff and new body guard, James ‘Bucky’ Barnes to get things ready. When James introduces you to his best friend, comic artist, Steve Rogers, you realize life could get even sweeter. But then a rumor surfaces, a rumor you started in harmless fun. Will it destroy any chance of something real with Steve or can the two of you get past it? Or will Steve just be another bump in the road?

Masterlist

Keep reading

I

We are the hollow men
We are the stuffed men
Leaning together
Headpiece filled with straw. Alas!
Our dried voices, when
We whisper together
Are quiet and meaningless
As wind in dry grass
Or rats’ feet over broken glass
In our dry cellar

Shape without form, shade without colour,
Paralysed force, gesture without motion;

Those who have crossed
With direct eyes, to death’s other Kingdom
Remember us-if at all-not as lost
Violent souls, but only
As the hollow men
The stuffed men.


II

Eyes I dare not meet in dreams
In death’s dream kingdom
These do not appear:
There, the eyes are
Sunlight on a broken column
There, is a tree swinging
And voices are
In the wind’s singing
More distant and more solemn
Than a fading star.

Let me be no nearer
In death’s dream kingdom
Let me also wear
Such deliberate disguises
Rat’s coat, crowskin, crossed staves
In a field
Behaving as the wind behaves
No nearer-

Not that final meeting
In the twilight kingdom


III

This is the dead land
This is cactus land
Here the stone images
Are raised, here they receive
The supplication of a dead man’s hand
Under the twinkle of a fading star.

Is it like this
In death’s other kingdom
Waking alone
At the hour when we are
Trembling with tenderness
Lips that would kiss
Form prayers to broken stone.


IV

The eyes are not here
There are no eyes here
In this valley of dying stars
In this hollow valley
This broken jaw of our lost kingdoms

In this last of meeting places
We grope together
And avoid speech
Gathered on this beach of the tumid river

Sightless, unless
The eyes reappear
As the perpetual star
Multifoliate rose
Of death’s twilight kingdom
The hope only
Of empty men.


V

Here we go round the prickly pear
Prickly pear prickly pear
Here we go round the prickly pear
At five o'clock in the morning.

Between the idea
And the reality
Between the motion
And the act
Falls the Shadow
For Thine is the Kingdom

Between the conception
And the creation
Between the emotion
And the response
Falls the Shadow
Life is very long

Between the desire
And the spasm
Between the potency
And the existence
Between the essence
And the descent
Falls the Shadow
For Thine is the Kingdom

For Thine is
Life is
For Thine is the

This is the way the world ends
This is the way the world ends
This is the way the world ends
Not with a bang but a whimper.

—  “The Hollow Men” by T. S. Eliot, 1925