pleasant streets

Fanfiction - A Lifetime of Her (Part V)

Part V – “But we’re still sleeping like we’re lovers”


I stood there, transfixed by the overwhelming feeling of her in my arms, unbelievingly real against the paleness of my tired memories. I didn’t know what had happened to her – clearly something had happened – but was only glad I had found her, right in the moment when my arms seemed to be so needed to hold her.

“Will ye tell me?” I murmured against her hair – fragrant like a freshly squeezed lemon, like a garden after pouring rain -, my hands rubbing her back in soothing circles. “What happened?”

“I will.” She tilted her chin, allowing our eyes to meet – hers were dry but glassy, as if her body was wrecked with fever. “I want to tell you.”

“Good.” I attempted a calming smile, but felt the muscles of my face stiff from concern. “Do ye want to sit down?”

“We can’t talk here.” Claire told me, finally stepping back, away from the comfort of my body – I felt the loss of her warmth as acutely as I would miss a limb. Phantom pain, permanent and excruciating, constructed by the mind to deal with unbearable loss. “This is Geillis place – she is a close friend – and she’ll be arriving shortly from work. I thought she had forgotten her keys when you knocked.”

“Ye can come to my house.” I offered, almost biting my tongue in eagerness. The image of Claire in my home - the tips of her fingers brushing the book spines in the shelf, her lips drinking from one of my glasses - a kiss shared through the marks we’d both leave there – made my heart swell to the point of bursting. “I mean, we can have a conversation there without being disturbed or interrupted.” I babbled, struggling to explain myself over a bout of flushing cheeks.

“Alright.” She nodded in agreement – trusting me implicitly. Naturally. “Let me just feed Adso and grab my coat.” The feline meowed in agreement and rubbed against Claire’s legs, sleek and charming, as if he had been waiting to be acknowledged.

We made our way through the pleasant streets of Edinburgh, headed towards my house, located just a few blocks away. We traded some words, but were mostly immersed in our thoughts – preparing what we would say and do, when we finally could expose ourselves in a safe haven. As we walked, we didn’t touch – not even our arms bumped into each other, in that casual way of shared movement. We were both consciously avoiding to touch, keeping a safe distance, even if acutely aware of each other.

“It isna a big house.” I apologized in a jumbled way as we entered my apartment, collecting unmatched socks and forgotten papers along the way.

“I love it!” Claire smiled in a reassuring way, admiring the big flat screen and black speakers. Her butterscotch eyes covered my pictures and books, the quilt thrown over the back of the sofa, the magazines and pamphlets I had sorted inside a little basket next to the bookcase. “I can tell you live here – it’s warm and alive. It’s a real home.”

I grinned in content – almost purring in satisfaction -, as she took off her coat. She wandered around, touching objects with a respectful hand and clicking her tongue in appreciation of my book collection. Eventually she talked again, her back turned to me.

“Where is your bedroom?” She asked in a rough voice, unhinged – and then, predicting my puzzlement, she added in a low and hesitant tone, as if talking to herself. “I haven’t been sleeping much – I didn’t want to close my eyes and let my mind roam freely. I can barely stand on my feet, to be honest. Besides,” Claire turned and glanced at me, fumbling again with her sleeves. “I think it would be easier to talk if we touched.”

“Aye.” I breathed deeply, walking towards my room. “Whatever ye need.”

I watched as she laid down on my bed, above the plaid that meant home to me – taking off her boots and socks in the process. Her movements were slow and calculated, as if she wished to cause minimal impact with her presence, so that I would carry on with my life after her departure. Claire rolled to her side, curled like an unborn child, safe and peaceful in the womb.

I came around the bed and managed to lay down – silent and precise as a thief in the night -, leaving an empty space between us, as I faced her. She seemed tired beyond her years and utterly broken.

Without a word she slid her hand to the middle of the bed, where I could reach out and touch it – I did so, softly playing with her fingers until she relaxed and our hands were entwined.

“Why are ye here?” I asked, my voice husky. Her face was a duality of shadows and bursts of light, coming from the window to dance on her features. “In Scotland?”

“I had to come.” Claire adjusted her face on the pillow, caressing the nail of my thumb with her fingers, her golden wedding ring cold like a fetch between us. “I couldn’t be in Boston right now – I needed time to think. This is the one place that has been home to me.”

“Are ye still married?” I risked, watching in anguish as she winced in pain. She sighed – but the movements of my hand in hers seemed to calm her enough to go on.

“Separated.” She licked her quivering bottom lip, avoiding my eyes. “It turns out Frank wasn’t the man I thought he was.  He wanted to own me.” Claire pursed her lips in anger. “And when he couldn’t own me, I wasn’t enough. Everyday became a war between us. A long and tiresome war.”

I gulped, taking in the shrapnel of her destruction. With a swift movement of my spare hand, I rolled up the sleeve of her sweater, revealing bruises the colour of mustard and moss, screaming against her marble white skin – marks of resentful fingers, forceful enough to break vessels and spirits. A lonely tear streamed down her cheek.

“He hurt ye!” I hissed furiously between clenched teeth, fighting the urge to maim the husband who had so recklessly broke the vow to protect her – to love her. She needed my restraint and I could offer it to her – not another display of bad temper by a man she had trusted. I hesitantly touched the bruises, wishing to erase them with kisses, to heal them with the adoration I would bestow upon her.

“I hurt him back.” Claire assured me, a look of shame crossing her face – as if I could pay witness to the degradations inflicted by both during their marriage. “He didn’t want me to leave. Frank said he still loves me.”

“Does he?” I asked with gentleness, battling the urge to ask her if she still loved him.

“I don’t know.” The tear track on her face glistened like a dry river, leaving thirst in its wake. “His love didn’t hurt like this, before.”

I wanted to ask her details on her failed marriage – her unhappiness was patent and unbearable – but restrained myself. She must have spent hours replaying the film of her derailed life, echoing words meant to harm – there was no cure to be found in saying them once more. I wished only to placate her pain – to take it all into myself, if I could. I longed to be the bringer of her smiles and not of her tears.

“I called ye.” I suddenly revealed, half embarrassed. “I waited too long – ye were gone by then. Maybe if I did…things would have been different.”

“Perhaps.” Claire agreed, haltingly. “But you were right – I shouldn’t have settled for less.”

I risked to brush her hair – silky and curly, so elementally Claire that took my breath away – and she closed her eyes in enjoyment of the intimate touch.

“What will ye do?” I asked, so afraid of the answer I could die. I wished for nothing more than to have her in my bed, lying so close to me as I memorized her, for the rest of my days. And yet I knew I had no guarantee of intimacy, of another conversation, of another touch – I savoured them all as a gift, for they were precious and not promised.

“I have to go back to Boston.” Claire explained, gripping my hand with strength. “I have a life there – a nursing job, medical school, friends and - .” She stopped, her eyes wide open.

Frank.” I swallowed hard, fighting against myself to offer her an encouraging smile. “Ye are still married to him.”

“Yes.” She closed her eyes, almost sobbing. I brought her hand closer to my mouth and kissed her knuckles.

“I won’t tell ye what to do – that is for ye to decide, mo nighean donn. But I need ye to know something, Claire.” I touched her chin with tenderness, urging her to open her eyes. “Ye alone hold all my heart – even before I knew yer name, ye meant light to me. I’ll wait for ye my whole live – and gladly so, even if it means that I’ll watch ye from afar, happy and fulfilled with another man, worthy of ye.”

“Jamie, I – “ Claire started, but I kissed her hand again and brought her against my chest, where my heart kept pounding, speaking enough to silence her.

“I’d rather ye dinna make promises ye may not wish to keep afterwards, when yer heart is less sore. When – if - ye mean them, I’ll be here.” I pleaded, staring into her eyes – she held my gaze for a while and nodded back. “Rest now, mo nighean donn. Let me watch over ye as ye sleep. Let me see ye safe.”

“I’m always safe with you.” She whispered.

I cherished her and held her hand until she fell asleep – finding new reasons to love her while she dreamt. She felt safe and protected with me – and, for that moment, it was enough.

Even when night came and we were left in complete darkness, I listened to her breathing, absorbing the symphony of the lover I craved. Once in a while I closed my eyes, making sure I could remember her perfectly – opening them again to correct a small detail, to drink another drop of her, afraid I would forget. Tormented I wouldn’t.

In the wee hours of night, I fought against sleep. I felt raw and tender, heart and body aching, calling me irresistibly to slumber.

I must have surrendered at some point. I had the vague recollection of a chaste kiss against my lips – timid, yet burning.

In the morning, she was gone.

[Jimin x Reader] My Childhood Best Friend Is A Jerk! Pt.1

Jimin x Reader - My Childhood Best Friend Is A Jerk! Pt.1

(HighSchool AU)

Genre: Fluff and Angst

Length: 5520

Quick Summary: You’ve had the biggest crush on your childhood, best friend’s friend - Jeon Jungkook. After confessing such a secret, you were able to finally have the courage to show your emotions in several ways just to get your crush’s attention but no matter what, something always goes wrong! Is it just bad luck, or sabotage?

Quick Notice: Guys, I have decided to make this a two-shot because this became longer than I expected. Sorry but please enjoy the read!

x x x

It was a warm Saturday evening. The sun had just dipped bellow the city’s fluctuating horizon as a gentle breeze whispered an introduction for the silver moon and glittering stars. Eventually the youthful night took over the skies, gently gazing over the unwinding souls who were either, staying in their humble abodes, or wandering the gold-lit streets with pleasant company.

As per usual, yours and Jimin’s parents were out on their double date night, leaving the two of you to your usual sleepover. It had become a simple and easy routine as the two of you were neighbours with parents that were friends, leading the two of you to also become close. The bond the two of you shared dates all the way back to when you were both 5.

Your parents had just moved to Busan, right beside the Park family, which was what started everything off. Attending the same schools, being the same age and having parents that were quick to become friends, the two of you were led to share many memories and secrets together, not that either of you complained, but you still couldn’t successfully negotiate whether it was a good, or bad thing to have somebody else know you better than yourself.

Jimin and his brother (Jihyun), over a long and happy time, had become the brothers you never had but you were much closer to Jimin than Jihyun, only because the two of you were closer in age, meaning that things were much more relatable between the two of you.

“What should we watch tonight?” Jimin asked as you prepared the snacks and drinks. Jihyun always went over to his friends house on Saturdays, which left you and Jimin alone together, strengthening the bond between you both.

“I’m cool with anything Jiminnie!”

“Alright then Chubs.” he teased as you stepped into the living room with your arms filled with snacks. ‘Chubs’ was his nickname for you, one that developed from your plump cheeks and love for sweet things. You honestly didn’t mind but only if he kept it between the two of you because you wouldn’t want anybody else calling you such a thing; the right was reserved only for Jimin. He should be grateful that you’ve given him such a privilege but you never pointed it out because it would only boost his already inflated ego. “I’ve just put on a random one since I couldn’t decide.” he moved to sit on the sofa as you nodded whilst placing the snacks onto the coffee table.

Once everything was set, you made yourself comfortable by snuggling into the male’s side, tucking the crown of your head under his chin as your cheek pressed into his collar bone, in response he wrapped an arm across your shoulders and squeezed you closer to his side, eliciting a giggle from you.

“I like your puppy onesie.” you mumbled, poking at his chest before softly tracing patterns over the soft material. “It suits your personality.”

“Thanks.” his voice came out soft, so much so that it was as if he was whispering. Just as you felt his fingers beginning to twirl and fiddle with your hair, you shuffled to stare up at him only to meet his hooded gaze. His chocolate irises were swirling with an emotion you couldn’t grasp but your eyes slowly moved inward once you noticed that your proximities were so intimate that your noses were touching. “(Y/N)..” he uttered.

Unfamiliar with the ambience in the air, and adamant at shaking off the alarming tension, you shook your head side to side with a masking giggle. He chuckled back breathlessly and collaborated with the eskimo kiss.

“This is so weird.” you forced out through sniggers, only to have him pull away.

“Then you’re the weird one for starting it.” he smirked as you began to whine, tugging at his onesie to further express your protest at the statement.

Eventually the two of you returned your attention to the moving pictures displaying itself and indulged in the story. In between your cuddling pair, you were the one that moved forward to grab at the provided snacks most, but you were sure that it was only because you would end up feeding Jimin as well so he didn’t really have a reason to stretch out his limbs.

“This movie is getting boring.” you claimed.

“Then let’s play a game.” you raised a brow to encourage him further with his suggestion, “Truth or truth.”


“Because I’m too lazy to be doing dares.”

“You’re right,” you sighed, “I’m feeling pretty lethargic too.”

“I’ll start then…” he hummed in thought as you munched on your favourite packet of potato chips, your full attention on him. For a moment, he adjusted you in his arms so that you sat more comfortably before continuing, “Do you like anyone at the moment?” he seemed hesitant but you were too busy choking on your beloved chips to be focusing on the uncertainty he was emitting from his expression.

“Wh-what was that?”

“Do you like anyone?” he looked very serious and it worried you somewhat; he wasn’t usually like this. “As in 'like’ like.” he quickly added, knowing that you’d reply through any provided loop hole.

“Well…” you paused as his breathing practically stopped from low-key apprehension, “Yes, I’ve liked someone for a while now.” a blush blossomed over your rounded cheeks.

“Who is it?!”

You smirked and clicked your tongue. “Now now Jiminnie, that wasn’t what you asked.”

“Stupid loop holes.” you laughed at his despair.

“Don’t insult my saviours!” you snapped playfully before he tackled you and began tickling your sides.

“Tell me!” he demanded with a laugh as your cheeks burned red from the mischievous stimulation of his hands and the embarrassment of your secret.


“Tell me who because I can do this all night!” he was right. With thighs as muscular as his and with such a sturdy frame, he can very well keep you under him with his impish fingers poking at your tickle spots until you wet your pants.

“Alright alright!” you almost screamed, “Just stop and let me catch my breath!” pulling his hands away, he let you calm your racing heart.

“…so, who is it?”

“I like Jeon Jungkook.”

x x x

“What do I do Jimin?” you whined, gripping and tugging on his shirt before hugging him around the torso with your face pressed into his chest.

“Well first of all, you won’t get anywhere if you continue whining like this.” you pouted and looked up at him as he chuckled.

“You don’t seem to be complaining.” you shot back, motioning to the arms he had wrapped around your waist, pressing you into him further from where they met at the small dip of your back.

His eyes quickly disappeared, becoming happy, crescent moons, “That’s just because your so cute when you’re complaining.” he smiled happily and bopped your button nose before settling his hand back to embracing you.

“Do you think Jungkook likes cute girls?” you wondered, your chin pressing into his chest as you continued to stare up at him - your eyes, thoughtful.

“He likes smart girls…” Jimin trailed off and directed your attention, with a motion of his head, to your school work with his eyes.

“Ugh! I don’t stand a chance then! I’m horrible at everything whereas he’s the exact opposite!” pulling away, you slumped in front of your incomplete homework.

“…I think you have a chance…”

Smiling at the support, you cuddled into him as he sat down beside you, “Thank you Jiminnie.”. Continuing to do work, it wasn’t until late into the night that you found it appropriate to talk about your crush again. “What should I do to catch his attention?” you mumbled, initiating a cute habit you developed whenever you were thinking - your arms crossed after resting a pen in between your nose and your pursed lips, your eyes would then close whilst your brows furrowed softly. It always made Jimin chuckle in amusement no matter his current moods - you were too cute for your own good. “Do you have any ideas Jiminnie?” asking audibly, led to you dropping your pen from it’s perch but you didn’t care and only groaned.

“Just be yourself.”

“That’s what everyone says.”

“But they’re not wrong, he wouldn’t be compatible for you and you wouldn’t be truly happy if you couldn’t be yourself around him, so trust me and whoever else told you to do that.”

“I guess you have a point but I need to at least let him know that I like him!”

“Sleep on it and I’m sure it’ll come to you in a dream.” looking over at the male, he had his hands up with fingerings mimicking the magic of dreams, which you laughed at.

“Alright. I’ll pack up.”

“And I’ll walk you home.”

“I live just a few steps away Jimin, you really don’t have to.” you laughed, carefully tucking your papers into a neat folder.

“I want to.” he pressed, “You never know what’ll happen out there when it’s dark. I don’t know what I’d do if anything to happen to you.” he reached out and caressed the curve of your cheek - a loving gesture he always performed to you and only you, which made you feel beyond special. Placing a hand over his and pressed your cheek into his warm palm, you closed your eyes and hummed in bliss.

“I don’t know what I’ll do without you either Jimin.”

“Likewise Chubs.”

x x x

Usually, you would be crabby on Mondays because it meant starting another week of school and you were never down for that. This Monday was different, however. This Monday is the day you would be making your first move on Jungkook. Yes, this Monday, you’re going to slip a letter into his locker, carrying some words of encouragement to help him through his Monday because everyone must hate Mondays too.

“Alright…” you mumbled to yourself. “So, Jimin said that Jungkook’s locker was number 103.” spotting the number after some moments, your face brightened instantly and quickly moved to slot the letter through one of the slim opening above the padlock. “I hope this is the right locker…” you mindlessly uttered, only to shake your head in denial straight after, “No. Jimin said it was 103 and I trust him.” just as you uttered that, footsteps from down the hall was picked up by your vigilant ears. Without even looking over at who the steps belonged to, you dashed away to stand behind the corner at the other end of the pristine hall.

“Ugh, I hate Mondays.” a deep voice groaned. That was Yoongi, you can just tell as stifled you giggled - it was only out of your deep desire to vanquish the anxious butterflies in your stomach.

“You always say that on Mondays Hyung.” Jimin chuckled, which you smiled at finding his voice calming in your currently highly strung plight.

“Because there’s no point in saying it any another day” Yoongi sarcastically shot back. You can just imagine him pulling the face he would usually draw out whenever he was being caustic.

“So what do you have next Hyung?” that was Jungkook! Your heart beat suddenly quickened and thumped loudly in your eardrums.

“Fucking maths.” the lazy elder groaned once more as the opening of several lockers was heard. This was it. Jungkook was going to receive your letter. What will he think? Will he be happy? Creeped out? Curious?…How will he react? Peaking your head past the edge of the wall, you watched as Yoongi brought out your letter form within his locker - what?

“Ooo! Hyung has a secret admirer!” Jungkook teased as you felt your world crumbling.

“It isn’t.” Yoongi established after reading through your letter, “It’s just some encouraging words to help me get through today. That’s nice of someone.” a meagre smile crossed his lips and, whilst you were somewhat glad for that, it wasn’t initially for him. Now, you just seemed further away from your aim.

Everything had gone horribly wrong!

x x x

“You said his locker number was 103!” you stressed with flying arms of exaggeration.

“No, I said 101.” Jimin replied with a shrug of his shoulders. “You must have misheard me.”

“But I swear that you said 103!” you pouted with furrowed brows.

“Nope.” he denied firmly, “I definitely said 101.”

Stomping your feet with clenched hands, you sobbed incoherent words of anger and frustration before running into Jimin’s arms for comfort. In a loving manner, he stroked your hair whilst whispering words of assurance.

“At least I helped brighten Yoongi-oppa’s day.” you optimised as Jimin hummed in agreement.

“And I can make certain that he was very grateful for that.”

“That’s good…” you sighed, quite dishearten. That didn’t mean that you weren’t any less determined, however - in fact - you only became all the more hell-bent on accomplishing your goal.

x x x

It’s taken several weeks before you finally built up enough courage to getting Jungkook to notice your love for him once more. The task only seems to grow even more intimidating with every passing day, especially when he continues being the perfect person that he was.

He’s talented in the performing arts, an amazing athlete and knowledgable of his subjects. You were lucky enough to sit near him in several of them, which you were rather shy but grateful over. At one end, you didn’t want him finding out how horrible you were at Chemisty but, in another, there was great thrill inside you when you were provided with the best chances in showing him how gifted you were at all things creative (in art), even if he himself was just as good.

“So, what’s your next strategy?” Jimin asked across from you with a warm beverage cupped in his hands.

“I don’t know…” you frowned, not in a fair mood to talk, which wasn’t like your commonly bubbly self. This made Jimin uncomfortable so he quickly came up with a suggestion to help motivate you.

“How about you make him something?..You like art, and you’re really good at it too! Maybe you can draw a picture of him?” he was about to continue and explain how you could go about the task but you were quick to intervene.

“Wouldn’t he find that creepy though?”

“He won’t think it’s weird. You’re really good at being creative and skilled at handling art utensils so he won’t get offended. I can speak from first hand experience.” you smiled and nodded, “you get me?” Jimin grinned.

“Is that how you felt when I drew your portrait for your birthday?”

“Yup! But you really didn’t have to wait until you mastered drawing portraits, I would have loved it anyway because it was from you.” he confessed as you became flustered and quickly embraced him as per usual - whenever he made a sweet as candy comment.

“You’re the best Jimin!”

“Jungkook’s clearly better though because he’s the lucky guy who unknowingly swept you off your feet.” Jimin teased, getting you all the more red.

“That’s different! You’re different from him!” you protested as he scuffed, “I’m not lying!…” you bravely stared into his eyes, “I love you Jimin.”

“…Do you love me or Jungkook?”

“Well those are two different types of love.” you pushed out your bottom lip, airily vexed at his indignation. He didn’t reply and only leaned down to press his lips against your temple.

“I know…”

Was that sadness in his eyes?

x x x

After weeks of hard work, Jungkook’s portrait was finally done and you were so proud. It had taken so much energy and effort for you to even come close to matching his perfectly toned skin; perfectly sculpted face; perfectly angled eyes; perfectly tinted lips, perfectly swept hair and perfectly pinched nose. Deep down, you knew that such a portrait can never replicate the real thing but you were still very pleased - the ending result of all your hard work is such a masterpiece.

Giddy at the vision of handling such art to him, you quickly pecked your parents on the cheek before tottering to the door, where you slipped on your shoes and readied yourself for the walk to school with your neighbour and best friend. Upon opening the door, you were met with the smell of damp air, a cold breeze and the rattling of rain.

“Oh no…” your portrait was on an A3 piece of paper and you didn’t want it crumpling up in your bag so you were having to carry it in your hands. Biting your lip, you closed the door rushed back to your room, where you carefully placed it atop your desk. “I guess that I’ll have to give it to him another day.” It was frustrating but you didn’t want to risk it getting ruined just because you were impatient. At least you had finally finished it. Grabbing your umbrella, you quickly made your way downstairs and out the door but your mum was just opening up the entrance to the sight of your gently soaked best friend and neighbour. “Jimin!” you squealed and ran into his arms, greeting him a good morning as soon as he uttered one himself.

“Well, the two of you better hurry up and go to school or else you’ll be late. Hurry along now.” your mother softly ushered the two of you outside and just as you were beginning to think that you were in the clear at closing of the door, your mother - being the 'mature’ adult that she was - quickly slipped in a blush-inducing comment, “The two of you might as well hold hands on the way there - you’re basically a couple already!” she laughed loudly and slammed the door, leaving you no time to recover and protest.

“She-…she’s so embarrassing!” you wailed, “And also, she has the wrong idea.” pushing away from the brunette male, you coughed and opened up your umbrella. “Come on Jiminnie! Let’s get going or else we’ll be really late!”

“S-sorry!” he rushed to your side, slipping under your umbrella with you. “So what’s the plan for today?” he quipped.

“There’s no plan.”

“Oh?” he raised a brow.

“It’s raining so I can’t risk the portrait getting wet. I’ll have to bring it in tomorrow instead. It’s frustrating but-” an idea hit you, “oh, no, wait! It’s perfect!” you cheered as Jimin took over holding the umbrella, knowing that your arms would start swinging about in your excitement. “We have Art tomorrow so I’ll put it on his desk during break so that when we have class right after, he can find it for himself and I wouldn’t have to confront him personally! This is perfect!” you cheered in delight, eyes sparkling and heart pounding at the prospect of Jungkook’s reactions to the deed.

“Yeah. That’s great.”

“It’s all thanks to you! Thank you Jiminnie!” your smile was brighter than anything, becoming a sun all in itself just for him. Your brilliant smile was too radiant, however, that it made his heart clench in pain from staring too long.

“No problem.”

x x x

As planned, you had put Jungkook’s portrait on his desk before looking for Jimin. In your search for your best friend, you went to ask the boys after having no luck in finding him for the past five minutes.

“(Y/N)!” Taehyung called, spotting you just as you spotted their table and began making the journey over, “Come sit!” the cheery male offered, patting the set beside him, which you giggled at and went ahead with accepting. You tried not to show your alarm when it meant that you had to sit right in front of Jungkook so you immediately became cautious over the burning sensation dusting your cheeks.

“Hey Noona.” he smiled with his cute bunny teeth.

“Hi.” you coughed to cover up the meekness of your reply, “Have any of you seen Jimin?”

“Oh~ You mean your boyfriend?~” Hoseok teased as you laughed with a shake of your head.

“We’re just friends Hobi.”

“But the two of you are always doing lots of skinship and act really cute together.” Jungkook exclaimed, earning several nods of agreement.

You were quick to deny such an outrageous (especially from your crush), “That’s only because we’ve been friends for a really long time. We’re really comfortable around each other.”

“I bet he goes to you all the time for his girl problems then.” yoongi nonchalantly commented, making you furrow your brows.

“…N-No…he doesn’t actually…” you looked at their disbelieving faces, “does he have any problems concerning girls?” this was certainly something new because Jimin had never voiced problems of that sort to you before.

“Yeah. Don’t you know? He’s liked this girl for a really long time now. Apparently she’s the cutest, kindest and funniest girl he’s ever met. We were hoping that you knew who it was.” Namjoon explained.

“He…” your heart was clenching and you don’t know why, “He never told me.” you forced past the lump in your throat.

“Maybe he’s shy about it around you because you’re a girl.” Jin hypothesised as you hesitantly agreed.

“I guess.”

There was a moment of tense silence that stretched out before the shrill ringing of the school bell alerted everyone the end of break.

“We have art next. Let’s walk together noona.” Jungkook offered, which you blushed and nodded at.

“Alright.” you said goodbye to the others before heading off with Jungkook, who initiated in a comfortable conversation with you. The two of you laugh and smiled, happy in each others company whilst reaching the doors to your art room.

“Good thing we sit next to each other. I don’t want our conversation ending just yet.” Jungkook confessed as your heart skipped multiple beats.

“M-me neither.” Entering the room, your eyes trailed off to your table were they quickly widened at the teach scrubbing away at a spillage of red paint on Jungkook’s seat and desk. “Wh-what happened?” you asked in a panic. The portrait was nowhere in sight.

“Some imbecile spilled red poster paint over an A3 piece of paper and left without cleaning up their mess!” this can’t be happening. “Poster paint is a real joy to clean up,” your teacher sarcastically commented, still scrubbing away as you tried to process everything, “so I’m afraid that, Jungkook, you’re going to have to sit somewhere else for the moment. Just find a free space and sit there, I don’t care where.”

“I’m sorry (Y/N),” Jungkook patted your shoulder, “I guess we’ll have to continue our conversation another time.” he then walked off to find another free space which he ultimately located beside the prettiest girl in class.

Was this karma or bad luck?

As soon as the day was over, you walked home to Jimin’s house, where your broke down once the door to his room shut closed behind the two of you.

“I can’t believe this!” you cried with endless tears cascading over your lashes and staining Jimin’s long-sleeved, stripped shirt. The two of you were lying on his bed, laying on your sides and facing each other. You were desperately clinging onto him, crying your eyes out as he pressed you closer and closer into his body with both arms wrapped around you.

“I’m sorry that happened (Y/N)…”

“I-I worked so hard-” you hiccuped, sniffled and continued sobbing, “Why are things always going wrong?”

“Shhh.” Jimin comforted. “I’m sure you can get him next time…” the contractions in his chest were becoming unbearably painful but he had to be there for you, it’s the only way he’s able to redeem himself.

x x x

“I’m going to make him a bento box filled with all of his favourite foods!” you announced during one of your Saturday sleepover sessions, this time, the two of you were just cuddling in his bed and talking as an alternative to your usual movie marathoning.

“What?!” you giggled at Jimin’s blown-wide eyes. “Can’t you make me one first?” he whined as you raised a brow, “I’ll be your test subject and approve it before you make one for him.”

“That’s a really stupid excuse Jimin,” you countered with a laugh, “you just want me to make you lunch!”

“Is that so wrong?” he pouted cutely.

“Well…no…” you stressed and sighed at his puppy-dog eyes once you dared your self to go on and look, “I guess I’ll.. make you one…”

He raised a brow at your scrunched expression, “I can hear a 'but’ coming.”

“And you’re right!” you grinned, giggling, “BUT I’ll make it for you after you hand it over to Jungkook for me.” he groaned but agreed.


It took you a bit of research but you finally found out Jungkook’s favourite foods. Thankfully, after this, the making of Jimin’s bento wouldn’t be so delayed since you already knew all of his favourites.

You brought the freshest ingredients, made the exact measurements perfectly settle to the appropriate line and cooked the evening away. Everything has to be perfect for your crush, who was perfection himself in spite of being the youngest in your friendship group. Admittedly, he was younger than you but it wasn’t by much so you were never stopped or discouraged.

When placing everything in the bento box, you made sure it was displayed neatly but also looked cute. The ending result was worth all your hard work and research, he’d certainly like the red theme because that was his favourite colour and you’re sure that he’d appreciate the small pizza you decorated with colourful toppings, there was also a small section for some sashimi and alongside that (but in it’s own spill-proof container) you included a small helping of pork soup rice. It was perfect and you were already anticipating his reaction. 

Hopefully he’ll like it.

x x x

“Jimin, can you hand this to him?” you asked with a blush as you inched the bento lunch closer to your trusted friend.

“Why? Shouldn’t you be the one handing it to him?”

“Please! You’d be doing me a solid!” his look of hesitance made you pull out your ultimate tarot card, you had it prepared just in case this would ever happen, “I promise that after this, I’ll make you bentos for a month!”

His eyes brightened at the idea, “Really?”

“You have my word.”

“Alright then…” there was an emotion in his eyes that you couldn’t comprehend but you let it slip and trusted him with your bento. You know that he’ll successfully deliver the lunch for you. If things went well, nothing will become of it whilst in his hands. It was a very unlikely outcome because you knew that Jimin would take care of all the things that you valued. It was just his nature to and you adored that about him.

“Thanks a bunch Jiminie!” overwhelmed with excitement, you leaned over and quickly pecked his cheek before skipping off to class just as the bell echoed through the halls.

You were happily getting along in geography until you made the move of asking for permission in order to go and take a toilet break. With boys, teacher were more hesitant with letting go of but girls were meant to always be excused because they could possibly be in their monthly cycle - it’s a little unfair on the boys but you weren’t complaining; that agreement had actually saved you, several times, from embarrassing yourself in class.

Heading out of class, you made your way to the toilets that you knew were kept moderately clean. Upon turning the corner of an elongated hallway, you saw Jimin walking out of class with your bento box and instantly started following him, curious over why he would bring it out. He headed to the back of the school and was beginning to approach a bin after reaching a secluded area.

What was he doing?…

Once he began opening the lid of your bento box at the side of the bin, your eyes instantly widened in shock and realisation.

“Jimin?” you called out, turning his attention towards you.

“(Y/N)…” his eyes stared unbelieving at you.

“W-Were you just about to…” you began, choking up, and so against the idea that you couldn’t finish your sentence.

“I-It’s not what it looks-” you quickly cut him off with an anger you never thought you could ever direct at him - a friend you’ve always trusted and loved.

“No! Tell me! Were you or were you not, just about to throw my bento for Jungkook away!” he, too, was shocked at your volume and projection of rage, frozen in place with tense shoulders and a beading cold sweat collecting at his hairline.

“Just hear me out-”

“I can’t believe that you would do something like that!” he didn’t deny it, so he was obviously intending to go through with what you were accusing him of. Your heart was breaking, slowly but surely over his act of treachery. You’ve built up so much faith in him over the course of most of your life and, now, it’s all crumbing down in the span of just one moment, you’ve never anticipated anything like this to ever happen between the two of you. “Were you also the one that spilled the red poster paint over my portrait of him?” as much as it hurt you to say it, you wanted an explanation, “And did you actually tell me the false locker number before denying ever saying that you did after that humiliating failure?!” his gaze couldn’t meet yours, his hands were clenching and unclenching at his sides, he was being so cowardly and he hated it but what could he do? “WELL?!”

“…Yes…that was me.” your heart, who was trying so hard to maintain it’s whole form collapsed into a million shards as tears of hate and betrayal spilled over your lashes. Unlike the many times previous, you weren’t running into Jimin’s arms for comfort. He wasn’t holding you tightly, he wasn’t wiping your tears away, he wasn’t whispering words of reassurance into your ear simply because this time, it wasn’t another force making you cry; it was him - he was the cause for your tears “I can’t believe it! Why?! Give me one good reason why!” you were almost spitting and biting at him. If you weren’t given a comprehendible answer soon, it was very likely that you would go crazy.

“Because…” he paused, finally looking up to lock gazes with you, bravely striding over and grasping your shoulders, “Because I love you, okay?!”

Your eyes widened in incredibility. “Wh-?”

“Haven’t I been obvious enough?!” his grip tightened and you winced but he didn’t notice, too focused on confessing everything he had been holding it in too long. All he wanted was to be honest with you so that the weight on his shoulders could be lifted; this was his chance. “I’ve always been there for you no matter what: I was your shoulder to cry on, I was your main support other than your parents, I took care of you when you were sick, I hung out with you whenever you were feeling lonely and I shared my most precious memories - ever - with you!” he took a moment to breathe, “Now that I’ve found out you’ve been crushing on my friend, how do you think I feel? I know it was selfish of me to go behind your back and do all those hateful things but please understand!”

Your shoulders shook with anger as you bit back with unadulterated revolt, “How can I even begin to understand you, when I can’t get over the fact that you would even do something so shocking?! I trusted you and you betrayed me!” you were breathless with abhor but you kept going; stubbornly saying anything that came to mind, “I HATE YOU JIMIN!”. His grip on your shoulders loosened considerably before clenching harder than ever as quickly as his eyes flashed dangerously.

“…you don’t mean that…You Don’t Mean That! Take It back!” there was denial and desperation swimming in his pools of mud brown.

“I do mean it!” you spat hatefully, “Now go away and leave me alone!” you grabbed at his arms and tried to push him off, squirming around in his grip, “I don’t need a deceitful, habitual liar - like you - in my life!” you sobbed and choked, your vision blurry as your face bloomed red.

With your mind rushing, the presence of soft lips were the only things that made the world stop around you. Jimin had you in a gradually loosening grip with his velvet-soft, pink lips embracing your own, hoping hopelessly that you’d see be able to finally understand that the two of you were meant for each other. Furious over his audacity, you took advantage of his slacked hold and roughly pushed him away.


Striking your hand across his cheek you afflicted a sore burning red over his once cream-coloured skin.


Running away was all that you could do, refusing to spare a look over the shoulder at the man shedding tears of devastation and suppressing agonising sobs.

Azriel/Elain Friendship Fic

I know there has been a lot of arguments about the Elriel and Elucien ships, and I don’t really want to add to the fire, but honestly I really enjoyed writing this. There isn’t really any romance, just two of my favourite characters bonding while out for a day in the city. More parts to come.

It had been four days since the Inner Circle had left to go to the human realms and Elain was bored.

They were re-locating the humans who had been evacuated before the King of Hybern and his army had attacked. That war still haunted Elain’s thoughts more than she liked to admit, her nightmares suffering the most. She didn’t understand how the others did it. How they lived, laughed and loved after experiencing horrors worse than she could ever imagine. Although perhaps she would go through the same later on in her life that now would last for centuries. Longer.

It had been months since she had been forced into the cauldron yet it was still hard to get used to being Fae. Just a few months ago she was planning for a life with a mortal man that was expected to last for a few decades before she perished. Now she didn’t know what to do with her life.

She had a dream of becoming a gardener somewhere far away, having a simple life where there was just her and her flowers. She would live somewhere the seasons would pass and the sun would shine. Elain enjoyed the Spring Court weather but she knew that she couldn’t live in the same season forever.

Sitting in her garden that was in the space set aside by her sister she pondered the days ahead of her. She tried not to get too carried away with her thoughts but it felt so natural. Perhaps because of her knew abilities to see into the future she found more comfort in her mind than anywhere else, despite that Elain usually tried to ignore the nagging voice in her head that told her of things she had trouble to understand. Being a seer was like having part of her conscience set aside to be controlled by thoughts of what was to come. And it scared her.

Elain sat up from her seat, which had no legs and was lifted by chains that allowed it to swing, and put her gardening gloves on. She only had a small amount of weeding to do until it would be perfect. Nesta had told her of a way to enchant the earth to restrict any foreign weeds from growing there but she refused, mainly so there was more work to do in the garden and more time she could have to herself.

Just as Elain was beginning to set to work on an empty patch that was yet to have something planted in it Azriel appeared. He had chosen to stay behind to keep an eye on the city, yet she had an idea that wasn’t all that he planned to keep an eye on. During the past four days he had merely been part of the background to her, though he assisted her with housekeeping and offered his company.

When the others were here Azriel often seemed smaller, despite his large build, yet when it was just the two of them he seemed to take up an entire room. He had a gentle character though and was never suffocating.

“Hey.” He offered, moving in a way that made his dark blue wings shimmer in the sunlight. Elain merely smiled, and set to work on the empty patch of earth that she planned on filling with some sort of flower. Maybe a tulip.

“Do you need any help?” the shadow singer asked.

“No thank you.”

He sighed, and to Elain’s slight surprise moved to sit down on the seat she had just occupied. He breathed in the scent of the rose-tinted air and for a second she half expected him to close his eyes and fall asleep. He didn’t though.

“I was wondering if you wanted to go out and see Velaris. Everyone is coming back at around dusk, just before Starfall, so if we leave now we could be back well before they get here,”

Elain had forgotten about Starfall, the annual event that was the biggest celebration in the Night Court. She supposed that was silly of her as it was happening that night, but  It was hard to get used to new festivities.

She contemplated the shadowsinger’s offer, glancing back the weeds that were almost gone.

“I heard there was a greenhouse somewhere that had amazing plants. Could we go there?”

Azriel grinned at her response.

“Of course.”

It was a sunny day for Velaris with a clear sky, perfect for the upcoming Starfall. The streets were bustling with people getting ready for the evening celebrations and Elain wondered if today was a bad day to come. She had had multiple days at home yet she chose the busiest of them all to finally see the city.

Azriel, who was standing by her side, diminished any doubt she had by taking her down a path that was relatively quiet. The Illyrian warrior wasn’t talking much but his stance and facial expressions were laid-back, which comforted Elain. She immediately decided that he made excellent company.

“Where are you taking me?” She asked inquisitively, though she trusted that it was somewhere nice. It was strange that she usually had so much trouble trusting others but this part of her was almost non-existent by Azriel’s side.

“You wanted to see the greenhouse. Unfortunately, it isn’t open until another forty-five minutes so I was thinking we could stop somewhere to get something to eat, then go just as it is open to the public.” He explained.

They turned a corner and the pleasantness of the street they left was replaced by the steady hum of the crowds around them. It was lined by various shops that were all advertised in the theme of Starfall. Although it was busy it was far from mayhem, Elain noticed, which contradicted her experience of market places. The people of Velaris were not those to create chaos when all together. No, despite the many children playing and adults shopping, they created peace.

Azriel guided her in the direction of a café and to her surprise took her hand. It was warm and large, exactly how she would have guessed. He gently tugged her to help them weave through the crowd without being separated until finally they reached the place they were to eat at.

The bells by the door jingled with their entry and the lack of noise was almost shocking. Elain realised that the walls and windows were soundproof, and almost laughed at the absurdity of it. It made sense, of course, but it was unusual.

They sat down at a two person booth and read the menu, exchanging polite talk while they did so. They both decided on a cinnamon roll so Azriel got up to buy two of them. When he brought them over Elain smiled at the sweet scent that filled her nose and knew instantly that this was a perfect idea.

Azriel seemed to have the same reaction as he lifted his plate up and breathed in the scent almost comically, which earnt a small laugh from both of them. The cinnamon rolls tasted as good as they smelt and Elain almost forgot about the male’s presence when she tried it.

“Where did you found out about the greenhouse?” He said, breaking her out of her slight trance.

“Nesta told me about it. She went on a few wonders through the city by herself,” Elain answered.

Azriel nodded and proceeded to tell her about it. It was the biggest one in the night court and was often busy, but apparently, it wouldn’t be as much on the day before Starfall because people were too busy to drop by. She was surprised by his extensive knowledge of the city but she supposed it made sense. This was his home and had been that for longer than the life-span of a mortal.

“How did you become interested in plants?” Azriel asked her. She had to think for a moment to answer as it had been her passion for so much of her life. It had started, though, when her family was still wealthy and her mother alive. Elain had spent time accompanying the servants when she was bored and had befriended a woman who taught her about gardens. However, the interest had not been taught but discovered in her youth.

She told him such. Azriel’s interest in her words was comforting and she found herself greatly appreciating his presence. He did everything in a gentle way, as if he was always prepared to be of assistance to somebody else. She supposed that told a lot about his opinion of himself.

Eventually they finished their cinnamon rolls and left, the male offering to pay the bill. She knew that neither of them had to be particularly concerned about money as it was supplied to both of them generously by her sister’s mate.

It was a short walk to the greenhouse from there and Elain gaped at the sheer size of it. The construction sat in the centre of a green courtyard that was surrounded by well-kept hedges and trees. Birds of every colour occupied the area, their chirping along with the slight rustle of the leaves the only sound that awaited them.

Azriel smiled when he opened the door to the greenhouse for her in anticipation of her reaction. An even wider smile took over Elain’s face when she took in the sight of the interior.

The walls were made of glass panes that came into an arch at the roof, filling the vast space with sunlight. Rows and rows of flowers and plants were lay out in an orderly manner and it seemed that the place was bursting to the seam with colour. Vines snaked up some posts covering them with leaves and flowers and fruit, like nature’s maypole. The petals were of extraordinary shades of vibrant and pastel colours.

It was beautiful.

Even as Elain stood there basking in the beauty of the plants around her she had trouble comprehending what she was seeing. Despite the awe of it having little effect on Azriel, his smile matched hers, the female being delighted and him being pleased with her delight.

“Thank you,” She managed to croak out. He nodded modestly.

She then began to wander down the aisles between rows, closely observing each individual plant. The swirls of colours that splattered the petals of the flowers were wonderful. Many of them Elain hadn’t seen before, the place lacking many ordinary species, but she recognized a lot of the names that were scrawled onto signs on the pots. There were ones from all over Prythian, gathered together waiting for her judgment.

Elain then noticed that there were prices on some of them too. She could get one. Azriel came over to her and saw her glancing at the tags, his wings curling behind him as he positioned himself by her side.

“You can get one if you want to. I saw that there are still parts of your garden that are yet to be occupied.”

She teared her gaze towards him and saw his beaming expression.


He nodded his head and she threw her arms around him, the action surprising her as much as it did him.

“Thank you so much!” she said, almost squealing. At first he was a bit taken aback, but then the shadowsinger returned her embrace.

They stood there for a few moments before they finally pulled away. Elain scanned the flowers, no longer to wish but to choose. Her attention was drawn to a simple but elegant flower, with oval petals that were coloured by deep swirls of blue and black. It simmered in the sunlight and perfectly matched the colour of Azriel’s wings. That one.

She walked over to the flower which was placed in a ceramic pot. She glanced back at Azriel unsurely, and his smile made her beam inside. She picked up the pot and the shadowsinger walked with her to the desk around the corner to pay.
The man there seemed nice enough, his hands rough and stained with dirt. He praised her choice because apparently the species was perfect for the climate in the Night Court. It wasn’t long until Elain and Azriel were walking out of the greenhouse and back to the house.

The whole walk back she held the pot with both hands, like a child with a new toy. The loveliness of Velaris was suddenly amplified. Elain made polite talk with the male who took her to the greenhouse and she came to enjoy his company more and more. It took a while to get back to the house and she wondered if Azriel had taken a detour just to enjoy the moment longer. Judging by how much she enjoyed strolling through the city with him, she would have done the same.

By the time they got to the front steps it was nearly dusk, and the Inner Circle were probably going to be there any minute. Before opening the door Elain turned to the male beside her.

“Thank you so much. For everything,” She said whole-heartedly.

Azriel reached for the door knob.

“It was my pleasure.”

My Gun

Request: 11 with V or 🍪

11) You live across the street from your bias group’s dorm and they still haven’t invested in curtains

Member: BTS V x Y/N

Type: Fluff

The night was brisk and the sky was doused in the most elegant shades of black. Like a paintbrush drug across the sky, navy intermingled with cosmic shades of grey, detailed with illuminated pinholes of white in the place of stars. It was like the whole universe was putting on a show for you. 

But you wouldn’t even know. 

Your eyes had been basking in their own darkness for the past fifteen minutes, exhausted from the week’s worth of work you had accomplished at your menial desk job. In your mind, the shade cast by your eyelids could be just as beautiful as the night sky. The thin layers of skin were like the ultimate curtains, separating you from the perils of reality. 

And the reality of your current situation was that you were neglecting your homework. 

It was difficult holding down a job and attending uni as a full time student in a different country. You were constantly trying to interpret a language you had fooled your way through navigating, in a city that wasn’t home, while you were entirely alone. 

Well…not entirely. 

Your shoulders subconsciously jumped as a thud hit your window. Although you weren’t fully conscious, the sound was enough to stir you from your sleep. You shifted on the chair you were teetering precariously on and let your chin fall back down to your chest. Another short thud hit the glass again, causing you to jump even more violently. Your eyes began to open slowly, beginning as slits. You cautiously surveyed your apartment and sighed. No immediate signs of danger…


Your head snapped up as you looked toward the window you were near. Running a hand through your already tousled hair, you approached the glass that separated you from the street below. Furrowing your brows, you crouched down, becoming eye level with the small, nerf darts sticking out from the glass’s exterior. 

Your eyes moved carefully across the sidewalk below, looking for the perpetrator when another dart swiftly hit the glass. 

“What the hell,” you hissed, continuing your search. You jumped as another nerf dart made contact.

You finally looked up, wincing as your eyes met another pair staring directly into your apartment. 

A boy not much older than yourself stood in his own apartment, eyes in crescents with a smile as big as the moon. In one hand he held tight to a nerf gun while he waved with the other. His window was halfway open, allowing the boy to get a clear shot at yours. You rolled your eyes, pointing to the nerf bullets stuck to the glass.  

He grinned and nodded excitedly. He held up his finger, signaling for you to wait a moment as he trotted off toward what looked like the kitchen. He spoke quickly to another boy who sat at the bar, scribbling on a notepad with headphones deeply placed in his ears. You hadn’t noticed him before, but he was equally as good looking as the boy with the nerf gun. 

You crossed your arms as you waited. For as long as you had lived in your apartment, you had never seen the boy or his…hoard of attractive room mates. You lifted your brows as two more emerged from the hallway, looking as if they were in a heated argument as they plopped on the couch. What was this? A modeling agency? 

You focused on nerf boy as he shuffled back toward the window, his friend’s notebook in hand. He pushed the paper up against the glass and smiled. 


You lifted your brows, impressed by his nerve. You turned around, picking up the notebook you had been studying from and flipped to a clean page. You grabbed a sharpie, scribbling dark enough for him to see from several yards away. 


The young man’s jaw dropped as he stared at your notebook, a visible pout beginning to form on his handsome face. You smirked as you closed the notebook and let it land with a smack on the hardwood. You reached up, giving a gentle wave to him and pulled the chord to your blinds, plunging your apartment into darkness. 

You giggled to yourself and nodded. “Shouldn’t have been shooting them in the first place, punk.” 

You came home from work, tilting your neck in an attempt to stretch. There was so much studying left to do, but not nearly enough time before your exam. You pulled subconsciously at the chord to your blinds, illuminating your living area with the pleasant glow of the street lights near level with your floor. Absentmindedly, you looked up, your eyes enticed by the small rectangle of white at the edge of your vision. 

The apartment across the street was lacking blinds, as well as curtains, allowing you visibility into the small world that was not your own. The mysterious nerf shooter from the night before had taped a sheet of paper to his window with one simple request scrawled on the front. 


You chuckled to yourself, offering up a small smile as you stared at the word. You bit your lip, unaware that you were being watched by the same young man that had written on the page. 

He lounged on the couch, snacks in hand, waiting for you to arrive home from work. Your eyes trailed across the apartment, lingering on the boy who had reappeared at the bar, still lost in his own world. You looked over, making eye contact once again with the original boy. His expression was hopeful as he looked over to the sheet of paper he had so carefully taped to his side of the glass. 

“Please,” you mouthed silently, making sure to look at him directly. He nodded nervously as his eyes shot back to the paper. 

You turned, stumbled over to your notebook and flipped through the pages. You smiled as you pressed the lined paper against the glass. 


You weren’t sure exactly why you were being so harsh with the strange man that you didn’t even know. Perhaps you were perturbed that he had interrupted your mid-evening nap. Or maybe you were subconsciously utilizing the elementary school flirting technique and being mean to someone you found attractive. Maybe you were just aggravated that he could be so careless with his possessions. Whichever reason it may be, you had no intention of swinging open the hinges of your window and plucking off the nerf darts attached to the glass. 

He either had to scale your balcony and do it himself or live without the small, orange pieces of foam. 

Your feet were heavy as they hit the welcome mat outside of your door. You were nearly certain you had failed your Chemistry test that you had so little time to prepare for. You huffed in frustration, not wanting to utilize any sort of energy to lean over and collect the small package that had been deposited at your doorstep. 

You picked up the box and cradled it carefully beneath your arm as you fished for your keys with your opposite hand. You managed to clumsily enter your apartment, accidentally dropping the box in your entryway and causing the cardboard to explode from the fall. You groaned, letting your head fall back on your shoulders in annoyance. 

“I didn’t even order anything,” you grumbled, popping off your shoes and throwing them into the corner. You leaned down, flopping onto the floor as your body turned to dead weight. You reached out and attempted to flip the cardboard, but only allowed the contents within to spill out. 

“I…what?” you whispered, furrowing your brows. You threw the box aside and picked up the small, plastic nerf gun that had been hiding inside. You let out a soft chuckle and looked up, your eyes darting around your apartment. It wasn’t as if you had expected your neighbor to be standing in your living room, but you felt as if his presence had arrived simply by the sight of the toy gun. 

You glanced back toward the box, noticing a small slip of paper that had been taped to the top. You unfolded it gently with shaking fingers and smiled as the familiar handwriting greeted you. 

“What’s the point of a gun without darts?” 

Your grin grew wider as you hauled yourself up from the floor and crossed your apartment in a flash. You pulled open your blinds and searched the apartment before you hungrily, hoping for your eyes to meet a familiar face. You nodded as you recognized the stranger you had now become so acquainted with dozing on the couch. With as little motion as possible, you pulled open your window and began to pluck the darts from the glass, loading the nerf gun as if you were an old pro. Just as you had confirmed that he hadn’t seen you, you allowed yourself to launch a solitary dart at his window. His shoulders lifted immediately, causing him to jump just as you had. He looked up sleepily from his lap and to the window, his eyes growing wide at the sight of you. 

A grin filled his face as he rushed from the couch he had been lounging on and to the window where he began to scrawl on the notebook he had left waiting. 

“TAEHYUNG” the paper said simply as he pressed it to the glass. He had drawn an arrow that pointed to his tan and handsome face. You nodded, exchanging a small smile with him for the first time. 

His face lit up at the interaction as he dropped the sheet of paper and began to write on a fresh page. 


He pointed happily to the dart that had landed on his window. You nodded again, letting out a soft chuckle. You set the gun down at your feet, grabbing your own notepad and writing slowly. 

Taehyung waited anxiously as you wrote, his large hands pressed against the glass in anticipation. You bit your lip as you turned the notebook over and pressed the lined paper into the glass. His face immediately fell, but quickly perked up again as he shook his head, a wild laugh escaping from his lips. 

“My Gun.”

Originally posted by dazzlingkai

thanks to @novaurora13 for always giving me inspiration when i have writer’s block. 

The Prank Wars

Platonic James Barnes x Reader
Warnings: swearing (what’s new there)

The countdown had begun. Time seemed to slow, as the pressure was beginning to feel utterly soul crushing. The anxiety, always lying under the surface. No one was to be trusted, no friend, no colleague, no pleasant stranger on the street. It drove everyone slightly mad, although everyone tried to deny it.

The Avengers Prank Wars had started.

In the beginning, the pranks had been harmless and only played between a few, mainly Clint and Natasha trying to outdo each other. When Stark heard about this, he wasn’t about to let everyone have fun without him. He enlisted the help of Bruce, seeing as how two scientific minds would be better equipped to take on two skillful assassins. Once everyone started to move into the tower, it wasn’t long before it expanded into a whole week, and then a whole month, starting on the 1st of March, and concluding on the 1st of April, of pranks. Everyone started out small, short sheeting beds, making the water run cold in the middle of the shower, or blasting show tunes in the dead of night. Whoever pulled the biggest prank at the end of the month was the winner, and also got a small trophy that Stark had made when he won the second year.

You were among the newer members of the team, coming into the tower not long after James “Bucky” Barnes aka the Winter Soldier had come into the group. The two of you couldn’t have been more different. Where he was quiet and reserved, you were extroverted and energetic. Where his fighting skills were brutal and harsh, you seemed to dance and weave your way through throngs of enemies without breaking a sweat. In short, the two of you were water and fire. Two opposites that should never have had anything in common, nor wanted to have anything in common.

Yet to everyone’s utter disbelief, you two were best friends, nearly inseparable and twice as deadly together than you would be apart. When you heard about the prank wars, your mind immediately starting running rampant with ideas.

Natasha, who was the one that gave you the heads up. Bucky, who had been drinking his morning coffee in the kitchen and listening, smirked behind his cup. He knew once you had a challenge, nothing could stop you from accepting and winning.

“Is it a bit late for dessert?” Bucky questioned, walking into the dimly lit kitchen. The clock read 2AM, and while everyone was already in their rooms asleep you were up and in the kitchen. He had gotten up to get a glass of water only to find you making a mess in the kitchen.

“Two things: 1. There is no such thing as too late for dessert. 2. This is not any dessert you would want.” You looked up to Bucky, who was leaned against the wall smirking at you. He was dressed lazily, seeing as it was late, in a pair of grey sweats and a black hoodie.

He made his way over to you and sat up on the counter where you were working. “Aren’t these Sam’s?” He asked as he picked up a box labeled specifically, SAM’S COOKIES. DO NOT TOUCH!

“No they are obviously Tony’s. Yes of course they’re Sam’s,” you said with a thick layer of sarcasm. You had painstakingly spent the last hour scrapping the frosting out of all of the cookies in the package. Now you were in the process of filling them with toothpaste. Sam was going to flip, but it was still only a small prank, seeing it was only week two of the month long war. He was your unlucky victim of the week.

“You know bird-boy’s gonna have a heart attack right?” he asked, picking up on of the cookies that you had already finished. He had to admit, you did a hell of a job in making them look nearly identical to the normal ones.

“Well don’t just sit there, help me,” you huffed and tossed another tube of toothpaste on his lap.

He set down the one that he was examining and picked up two halves of another. You two began working simultaneously, without even speaking. Eventually you worked out a system, he frosted, and you cleaned them up. It worked because he was faster, but couldn’t make it look perfect on just one pass. You were the perfectionist so that’s what you did.

A half hour later, you were done and very proud of your work. You had a devious smile on your face, knowing this wasn’t even the worst thing you had planned for Sam.

“So does being your best friend and helping you with this excuse me from your prank wrath?” he asked without even an undertone of actual concern.

“Oh James, don’t think that’s an excuse not to prank you,” you replied slyly. You knew that you weren’t actual going to prank him, but you couldn’t tell him that.
He laughed but you looked at him seriously, his laughter slowly dying out and his face changing to a more worried expression. “Wait, you’re not serious right?” he nervously chuckled.

You let you hand drag across his shoulders as you walked away. “Goodnight James, clean up for me yeah?”

“What?” he asked talking a step towards you. You turned around just before heading down the hallway.

“Please clean up the kitchen. Also when was the last time you showered?”
“Yesterday morning. Why?” His brow came together confused at your seemingly random question.

“Don’t use the shampoo. Goodnight James.” You said happily and made your way back to your room. You hadn’t actually done anything to him, but you figured you if you made him think you did, the kitchen would be spotless in the morning.

The prank wars had just begun and you intended on being victorious this year, no matter what it took to win the trophy.



Sims started a pilgrimage to the house. They come:

1) uninvited; 

2) every three – four hours;

3) day and night. 

I had to build a fence around the door so that they didn’t wake poor Jasmine and Guy. == I can’t decide if I am worried or amused.

Kinda annoyed, too, because they clog the toilet.

All of them are the original Pleasantview residents, both playables and townies, so I guess it has something to do with the order of files in the Characters folder. As to the situation in general, it’s probably the lot + the scenario gone wrong. The Caliente sisters used to live there, and Mortimer Goth has to visit them at the start of the game. I don’t remember if the scenario had worked originally, but re-starting the week might trigger it… I think??? But Mortimer (N001_User00000) is dead and the game doesn’t know what to do???

If someone could give me any tips I’d be really grateful! ?


May 1, 2017


Natalie Lanese

Rosemary Clooney first started recording in 1946 and within a few years was a regular performer on radio and television. When Cincinnati non-profit ArtWorks partnered with the Cincinnati Enquirer asking its readers who should be the first female legend to be honored in its Cincinnati Legends mural series Clooney beat out the likes of Louise Beavers, Harriet Beecher-Stowe, Dorothy Kamenshek, and Mamie Smith for the honor, and it may well be her 1954 performance opposite Bing Crosby in White Christmas that made the difference. For this 2016 work at Liberty and Pleasant Streets in Cincinnati Lanese immortalizes a black velvet gowned Clooney singing “Love, You Didn’t Do Right By Me” for Bing late in the film. Natalie Lanese who now lives in Toledo, Ohio, is known for her experimentation with collage and painted elements, but as reflected in this work, she says her recent work abandons collage and focuses on repeated hard-edged patterns.  @nlanese  @artworkscincy  


@paperlemonpaper asked me for fic recs a long time ago whoops sO HERE’S SOME OF MY ALL-TIME FAVES IN NO PARTICULAR ORDER
(ps take note that like,, several of these have the secks in them)

  1. Cake Or Break by Crollalanza
    (DaiSuga w/ background IwaOi)
    It had been an accident - an actual accident - that had brought Sawamura Daichi to a pleasant, sunny side street in Tokyo on his way to work. But then he’d caught sight of an angel with quicksilver hair setting out the tables at a cafe, and he’d stopped, dumbstruck. And when the waiter-cum-owner-cum-angel-in-human-form had turned around and smiled, all the breath had left his body. A story about chance meetings, the importance of cake and how a sack of icing sugar can change your life. 
  2. National Hot Dad Alliance Is Now Calling… by dicaeopolis and OwlinAMinor 
    (Focus on friendship between Daichi, Kuroo, Bokuto, Oikawa and Ushijima, w/ DaiSuga, KuroKen, BokuAka, IwaOi and UshiTen)

    Sawamura Daichi: What the fuck.
    (Or, the captains’ squad interactions that definitely happen outside of canon, presented in Skype chat form.)
  3. Wingman Watari by SatyrSyd37
    (MatsuHana, KyouHaba, KinKuni, IwaOi and Best Wingman Watari)

    It begins as an accident. Watari never planned on setting up all the members of his volleyball team, but, for some reason, it turns out he’s the perfect matchmaker. (also known as the getting together stories of the ships listed in the tags)
  4. Answers Without Questions by SecretMaker
    Koushi had learned a long time ago to stop wanting things. He learned to stop wishing, letting his eyes linger too long, wondering what it would be like if only. There were no if onlys in Koushi’s life.
  5. Police Dog by surveycorpsjean

    Yahaba takes home a gruff looking, beat up dog. He patches his ear, and wraps his leg, and goes to sleep. The next morning he wakes up to a hot guy rummaging through his kitchen. “I took a pair of your shorts.” He says, standing up and away from the fridge. “Hope that’s a’ight with you.”
  6. Lost With You (Take My Hand) by airblends
    When a missed stop or ten lead to an involuntary day trip to Kyoto for Matsukawa and Hanamaki, they find that maybe the journey really is its own reward sometimes.
  7. Do Unto Others by darkmagicalgirl
    Over time, Kunimi has realized he really likes having Kindaichi look after him.
  8. Plus One by safra

    “Did you know we’re dating?”
    “What? Says who?”
    “Says everyone apparently.”
    “Oh,” Hanamaki frowns for a few seconds before shrugging and turning his attention back to the chocolate fountain. “Nice.”
  9. Close To The Chest by darkmagicalgirl
    It takes Yahaba thirteen years to realize he’s different from the other kids, one to figure out how to hide it, and two more to learn to be happy just the way he is. Yahaba’s journey ft. an extremely annoyed Kyoutani, best friend in the world Watari, and loads and loads of good senpai Oikawa.
  10. The Truth Is Out There by shizuoh
    (IwaOi w/ background KuroKen)
    “I work at NASA,” Hajime said, setting down his coffee. Oikawa immediately jumped up and slammed his palms against the table. “I’ll suck your dick if you tell me about the aliens.”
  11. 30-Day HQ Writing Challenge: Kinkuni by emerald1963
    “"I don’t swim,” said Kunimi flatly, redirecting his gaze to his book.
    Kindaichi gasped. “You can’t swim?! Akira, that’s just wrong!” He grabbed Kunimi by the arm and dragged him out into the sunlight. “Come on, I’ll teach you!”
    “If you insist,” muttered Kunimi."When Seijou goes to the beach, Kindaichi gets more than he bargained for.
  12. Right In Front Of Me by shions_heart
    "I don’t think we should hang out so much anymore outside of practice.”
    Kunimi Akira’s parents have expectations. People assuming he and Kindaichi are together because of their constant proximity is not conducive to these expectations.
  13. Hella Gay by helloyesIamtrash
    Though no one knows how or why, at midnight on a person’s 16th birthday, they get writing on their wrist, almost like a tattoo. This writing, whatever it says, has something to do with your soulmate. It’s usually something like the first thing they say to you after it appears, or an inside joke you two will have, maybe a phrase they say a lot. Simply a push in the right direction, fate’s little nudge-nudge wink-wink about what future you have in store. This is the story of what happened on Matsukawa Issei’s 16th birthday.
  14. One Step Forward by parasolghost
    At the end of their middle school days, Kunimi begins to wonder if what he feels for Kindaichi is a bit different from close friendship.
  15. Creatures Of Logic by ectoBisexual
    When you turn eighteen, your soulmate’s name is supposed to appear somewhere on your body, as if written in their very own handwriting. When Kunimi wakes up on his eighteenth birthday, he doesn’t know whether to be surprised or not.

Pleasant Street on a Spring Day by Corey Templeton
Via Flickr:
Near the edge of the Old Port neighborhood.

Ok @willowdeville, you asked for some Mshenko! So here, have some silly Mshenko fluff! For the prompt meme - #49: “I’m really drunk, please help me.”

Kaidan hunched his head and pulled the collar of his jacket up a little bit higher, trying to hide his face from the cold as much as possible. When he had started his night the weather had been just on the cool side, in between the too warm for a jacket and not warm enough for just a sweater. His breath misted in the air as he walked along the street. A pleasant buzz gave a lightness to his steps, a soft smile twitching at his lips.

Keep reading

There’s gonna be a Hallelujah day
When the boys have all come home to stay
And a million bands begin to play
We’ll be dancing the Vict'ry Polka

Molly McIntire - 1940s Jefferson, Illinois

fox in the henhouse

written because foxes are adorable. and the world needs more fox!Stiles. 

Originally posted by setyourpridetotheside

All things considered, there are probably nicer ways to wake in the morning than to the screams and wails of between twenty and thirty traumatized eight-year-olds.


What now?

Peter rolls out of bed, hauls his jeans on, and stumbles out the front door of the house just in time to see the herd of weeping children being ushered back toward the yellow bus that’s waiting for them out on the road. Their teacher is bringing up the rear, glaring at Derek as he stumbles along beside her looking apologetic and saying something that clearly she’s not prepared to listen to.

Peter groans and leans in the doorway of the small house.

“Derek?” he asks when the bus takes off and his nephew drags his sorry ass back to the little house. “What the fuck was that?”


Three years ago, Peter was a lawyer. He supposes that technically he still is a lawyer, but fuck that. He’s done with that bullshit. When he found himself sitting in his office one day, gazing out over the glittering cityscape and contemplating slitting his own wrists with his fancy letter opener, he’d figured it was time to get out.

Besides, it’d take more than a silver letter opener to kill himself, what with his werewolf healing.

That very same day he’d received an email from his nephew Derek, who had just graduated college and decided to return home to Beacon Hills to make his own cheese. And he wanted Peter to invest, since everyone else in the family thought he was fucking crazy. So did Peter, actually, but it just so happened that he needed some fucking crazy in his life, so not only had he invested in Derek’s business, he’d headed home to help run it.

From lawyer to farmer, in one easy step.

Because of course Derek’s cheese has to come from his own cows and goats and even sheep. It’s taken a few years to get everything up and running, but they’re turning a profit at last. They employ thirty people, run factory tours and, as a little bonus for the tourists and the local elementary school children, have a sort of a petting zoo out the front where they keep some lambs, a few poddy calves, some goatlets—kids, dammit. Why can Peter never remember that? Oh, because he is a terrible famer, as Derek likes to remind him—and some ducks and chickens.


“Again?” he asks as he follows Derek toward the little petting zoo. “Seriously?”

Derek sighs and nods.

Peter pinches the bridge of his nose. “Next time, can someone check it’s not the Texas Chainsaw Massacre in there before the kids arrive?”

Peter might be a terrible famer, but he’s damn good at publicity and advertising and schmoozing at trade shows and generally making sure that Hale Organic Cheeses has the best fucking reputation in the area. And that good reputation is going to be really difficult to hold onto if they continue to traumatize innocent children.

Derek nods worriedly.

“Go, Peter says, and waves him away. “Go and do the things you do.”

“What are you going to do?” Derek asks him.

Peter narrows his gaze. “I’m going to kill him.”


Keep reading


With the fall of HYDRA and SHIELD, Washington was not the place to be. Authorities would be on high alert for anyone to do with the incident and he didn’t exactly had a clean file to present. If captured the best option he could bargain for would to be thrown into a mental health institute. It would take them years to untangle the damage HYDRA had done to his brain.

Anywhere but America seemed ideal. With a metal arm and airport security, airplane wasn’t an option so buying his way onto a ship was his way across the Atlantic. Europe was home in some sense after all the years he’d spent there during the war and after. It only seemed right to go back.

It had been a year since the fall of the helicarriers and although a free life sounded good, it was rough when you had nothing to your name, and you’d only just learnt your name. Still, he had a roof over his head and food which was more than some had. He’d learnt that the hard way, those first few months on the streets weren’t pleasant.

His life was far from quiet with the scream filled nights and paranoid days. There was always something in control, if not HYDRA it was the nightmares. He’d learnt to stay awake for a few days. Eventually he’d succumb to sleep but that would last for a few hours if he was lucky. Dreams littered with memories others couldn’t even imagine. Thankfully he’d taken the reigns back to some extent the past month or so. An improvement maybe? He wasn’t sure.

That night was like any other except the sound of footsteps caught his attention. Bucky wasn’t intending on sleeping that night and he’d spent the hours with coffee and empty notebooks. He had neighbours, but these footsteps were closer. They were inside his apartment. As an assassin you know the tricks of the trade, anyone else might not have heard the gentle creak of the floorboards in the kitchen but he did.

Calmly walking through as he peered around the wall and caught sight of the shadowed figure before hesitating. The realisation he had no need to reach around for the gun tucked in the back of his jeans. At least not yet.

“How long have you known?”