pop-phone

tk video stream network is open!

The lovely @byungjoo and I have created a kakao chat room for anyone who would like to receive updates about the td stream instead of posting everything on the mess that is tumblr. Laura (byungjoo) and I can post events, updates, etc. in the group and all of them are put right into a schedule!! There is also a chat that all the members can use. Everything’s super easy and cute and I just got the app today lol

What is Kakao? It’s a free messaging app that can be used internationally. It just requires a valid email. Notifications can pop up on your phone just like a text message. There is KakaoTalk which is the main app and KakaoGroup which can be used for groups. KakaoGroup is more organized and works better for this network. You must have KakaoTalk to use KakaoGroup. Both apps are free!

How to become a member of the tk stream group:

  • Download KakaoTalk from the app store and make an account
  • Create an ID (used to add members instead of everyone having to share phone numbers). This is not the name that you give yourself. You can use your first name/nickname/url/whatever you want to appear as to others for your name. Ex: my name is Jess on kkt. Your ID is used to add members and prob other things that I haven’t discovered yet. My ID is not Jess
  • Download KakaoGroup and log in with your KakaoTalk account
  • Send either Laura or myself a private message on tumblr that you’re interested and we’ll send you a link to the group!!
  • Then you will get an invitation from either one of us on KakaoTalk to be added to the chat on KakaoGroup
  • Accept the invite and open KakaoGroup
  • Have fun!! (Is that too cliche?)

If you have any questions or concerns about either app or how to join the group, don’t hesitate to reach out to Laura and I!!

Signs As More Small Feelings
  • Aries: snapping a candy bar into half
  • Taurus: hot showers after swimming
  • Gemini: when you have the aux cord and someone asks "what song is this" and that means they like your music taste
  • Cancer: using the same brand of shampoo and conditioner and your hair smells and feels heavenly
  • Leo: drinking cold water and feeling it go throughout your body
  • Virgo: using skin/hair care products that actually work
  • Libra: the cold side of the pillow during a hot night
  • Scorpio: matching your underwear and bra and thinking you look bad asf
  • Sagittarius: making a whole group of people laugh
  • Capricorn: opening a new jar of food and it's swirled perfectly
  • Aquarius: swimming at night and it's pitch black but the pool lights are on
  • Pisces: when the person you've been waiting to talk to's name pops up on your phone
I’ve been planning this post for a good while now.

Every time its final image pops up on my phone unexpectedly, I go “WAUGH!” and then giggle like a drunken hyena laugh in a cool and collected manner.

Y’see, I got to see a lot of impressionism on this trip, included some lovely Van Goghs.

That said, though… every artist has their strong suit.

Some are masters of the human form, or of light, or of color. The surreal, the cerebral, the gentle or the bold. Some can apply their unique perspective to anything.

Some, however, just shouldn’t paint babies.

Because this baby wants to eat my soul.

1. I’m scared. I’m scared that everything I felt for you will never go away and I’m scared that I made our love story up in my head. I know I’m a bit of an exaggerater and I like the pain, but I’m sick of waking up to a bloody mouth every morning. I can’t stop biting my tongue in my sleep, but it’s the only way to keep me from screaming your name in the middle of the night.
2. I take every chance I get to wish for your name to pop up on my phone. But I wish for a lot more than just that. I wish I would have answered your call. I wish I would have asked you to lay down with me. I wish you wouldn’t have left.
3. I’m suffocating in my own skin. I can’t breathe without feeling your hand on my cheek, your lips on mine, your head on my shoulder. They say it takes two weeks for your skin cells to replace themselves, but it’s been two months and I can still feel you.
4. Sometimes I think that if I had seen you one more time, things would be different. Maybe I’d be falling asleep to the sound of your voice on the phone instead of choking on my tears. Maybe I’d be sneaking out to kiss you goodnight instead of sneaking out to kiss a stranger so I could forget you. Maybe you wouldn’t have left.
—  I know heartbreak hurts, but I didn’t think it would be this bad
Golden Hour

Originally posted by tomshollandss

Tom let out a sigh of relief as he rounded the corner into the quieter section of the airport, away from the demanding paparazzi. There were fewer people here, all lost in their own worlds, wanting to get to their planes. He wasn’t famous to them, just another passer byer.

In front of him you talked to Harrison and Harry, unphased by the previous events that occurred not even five minutes ago. The screaming, the grabbing, the shoving. All calling for Tom, all needing to be seen, but he was only one man. Tom Holland loved his job, it was everything he ever dreamed of, but he was only human and the world refused to believe that.

When you noticed Tom had fallen behind you excused yourself from the conversation and slowed your pace until you and Tom were in the same rhythm side by side. You gently smiled at him earning a fake one in return.

You hated seeing him this way, but it had become a norm. He was an amazing actor, using his skill more off screen than on. Constantly putting on a show for everyone around him, smiling, laughing, taking everything thrown at him. He couldn’t falter, not even for a second, or the media would eat him alive. So the second he was behind closed doors he would come crumbling down and let the exhaustion take over. So it wasn’t uncommon that he would spend the day moping around in bed or be a little grumpier then was called for. He would apologize like crazy afterwards, wanting to be the perfect boyfriend for you but you would just curl up next to him and tell him that everything was okay. And every time it would throw him off guard expecting you to be mad but you knew what you were getting into when you agreed to be his girlfriend, you didn’t sign up from the perfect person the world made him be, you signed up for all the little imperfections that made him Tommy.

“Wow,” You grabbed his hand, catching his attention. “Look at that view.”

Behind the glass wall the sun kissed the horizon in an explosion of warm yellows and reds, turning the sky into a work of art. A plane could be seen in the distance, heat radiating into the atmosphere, rippling the sky around it like a pebble into a pond.

You didn’t travel nearly as much as Tom or Harrison, this was only your third time tagging along on one of his press tour locations, so you were sure he had seen this view hundreds of times but you wondered if he had ever really taken a second to just enjoy it.

“You know, they call this the golden hour in photography.” You glanced over at Tom whose tired eyes were soaking in the view. “It makes, like, the perfect photograph or something.”

“I can see why they’d call it that.” His voice was soft and low, worn out from all the use from earlier in the day.

“I can’t wait to see it again tomorrow.” You smiled. “And the day after that, aaaand the day after that. With you, in airports and hotels or wherever this crazy adventure takes us.” You swung your connected hands, trying to bring some energy back into the peaceful moment.  “So come on, Holland, lets get to our plane.”

You tugged at his hand, pulling him along. He kept stealing glances at the view, wanting to just stop time and enjoy this moment with you. Because if he was being honest with himself this was the first time he felt like he could breathe since he stared filming Spider-Man, all because you said ‘us’. He wasn’t on this adventure alone, you were right by his side, even when he was at his worst. Even when he rose his voice at the stupidest of things, or didn’t have any energy to go out on a date, or when he didn’t want anything to do with anyone, you were still there. Even if you were in different countries your face would pop up on his phone when he needed you the most. You were his golden hour, you were perfect.

“Will you marry me?” He tugged back on your hand, making you stop midsentence, talking about whatever book you were reading this week.

“What?” You asked, not hearing his quiet voice over your loud one. “Tom we can talk and walk, we gotta go, the plane is going to be taking off soon.” You tried to tug on his hand to make him move again but he stood his ground.

“Will you marry me?” He asked again. You furrowed your brows, confused. Without a second though he dropped down to one knee, holding your hand in his and that when everything started piecing together.

“I don’t have a ring, and I know this really isn’t the right place to be asking but fuck, (Y/N), I love you. And I really need you to say yes. Because the second we get off that plane I want to run to the closest church, or city hall or anywhere that will make you my wife. I can’t take another second of not knowing you are mine forever.” You watched him ramble on, tears prickling at your eyes.

In front of you, Harrison looked back to see what was taking you both so long to catch up. He slapped Harry’s arm, getting his attention.

“Yes.” Happiness spilling out of you in a form of a laugh. “Yes, I will marry you.” You were bouncing on the balls of your feet now, unable to control yourself. Tom stood up, a grin plastered across his face.

“Yeah?” He questioned, making sure one last time he heard you right.

“Yes.” You kissed him, wrapping your arms around his neck. You leaned into you, deepening the kiss before lifting you into the air and spinning around.  As he put you down, Harrison and Harry ran up behind you, wrapping you both into a hug before laughing and congratulating you.

And as promised, the second you got off the plane you had found the closest city hall.

Surprising Secret; H.S.

To say that I was just a little bit nervous, was quite the understatement. But walking around with just my lingerie, covered by a large trench coat, also felt… quite empowering. I forgot that I had matters to attend to before I’d be seeing Harry tonight; being surrounded by so many people and having this little secret to myself; I’ve never felt this way.

My heels click along the sidewalk, a rhythmic beating that only hyped me up more. Only a few blocks and I’d arrive at Harry’s flat, and I’d see just how surprised I could get him with my small gift.

Our meet-ups were irregular, to say the least. But that didn’t take away the thrill that erupted in my body every single time Harry’s name popped up on my phone. It was almost always the same message:

Are you busy tonight? – H.

And the text I had received held just those words. I almost never turned down his offer for some unadulterated obligation-free fun. I can’t remember when it started, or how, but I was willing to just receive bits and snippets of Harry whenever he had the time. I was single, anyway – and not planning on changing that any time soon.

My contemplation is cut short when I see the familiar large front door come into view. I grant myself another big, nerve-calming breath, and take the few steps up.

“Hi love, lovely to see you again.” Harry greets me, smirk plastered on his lips, his body leaning against his slightly opened doorway. “Likewise H. Mind letting me in? It’s quite cold out, as you know.” I wink, immediately pushing through the door and inviting myself in without another word slipped past Harry’s lips.

“There’s something different about you.” Harry comments as he feel him following me into his living room. I come to a halt at the back of his sofa, my fingertips pressing into the divine leather as I wait for him to enter the room as well.

“Confidence can carry you a long way.” I smirk, turning on my heel and resting my ass against the leather. He slowly approaches me – his gaze is penetrating, although I can’t decipher which emotion he holds behind them.
“Apparently so, yeah.”

“Come on, Y/N. Let me take your coat.” Harry smiles genuinely, stepping closer as he holds his hand out. I unbutton the few buttons that keep my secret hidden from Harry, leaving my coat on. “Of course, H.” I smile. The confidence that courses through me isn’t something I knew I possessed, but I wish it would stick with me until the end of time. I haven’t felt this high in forever.

His hands trail towards my shoulders as I spin a circle, letting Harry glide my coat off of my shoulders. I don’t see his face, but I hear his breathing hitch, a small gasp leaving his lips. “It was your birthday someday this year, right?” I laugh, turning back around, licking my lips as I see the fire blazing in Harry’s eyes.

“Once a year, yeah.” Harry stutters, his eyes glued to my frame. I take a step closer, my hands fluttering over his clothed chest before I grasp it, pulling him closer. “I like seeing you all flustered.” I press my lips against his in an urgent manner. I’ve missed him – missed his touch.

There’s something that seems to click in Harry’s mind and he kisses back with even greater force, his hands cupping my ass and pulling me incredulously close. A moan passes from my lips and I lean my lower body closer to his, using his sofa as leverage.

“How I’ve missed – “ a kiss on my neck, “that ass – “ another kiss to my collarbone, “of yours.” Harry mutters in between, sending heat straight to my core. My fingers are grasping onto Harry’s wild locks for dear life; my leg rubbing along his jean-covered thigh.

Instead of trying to come up with a proper answer I tug his shirt off his toned torso in one swift, fluid motion. I’m meddling with the buckle of his belt when a tiny shriek leaves my lips, Harry’s arms lifting me up as he carries me towards his bedroom.

He drops me onto the bed and I bounce back, my hair fanned out across the neatly made bed. “Is this new?” He motions to the only articles of clothing still covering my private parts and with a curt nod, a smirk grows on his features. “I like.”

“Of course you do.” I hook my pointer finger in his boxers and pull him closer. He kicks off his jeans as he leans over me, our lips hooking into another passionate kiss. His fingers skilfully remove the last bits of clothing as I try my best to do the same – failing miserably.

He aids me and covers my whole body with his, hands wandering, lips pressing everywhere, moans slipping from both our lips. I’m not in the mood for foreplay, it’s been too long since we’ve been together and I can’t wait to feel him again.

I do believe he feels the same as he already starts guiding himself in between my legs, his lips stilling on my collarbone. A sigh leaves his lips as he enters me, followed by a low moan passing my own.

His pacing is slow, exploring, as if this is the first time we’ve been together. I know it isn’t, but it does feel like it. I haven’t seen Harry in months, and I was craving his touch with every fibre of my being.

Without giving it a second thought, the words slip from my lips. As soon as they have though, I press my lips together in a thin line, focusing everywhere but on Harry. It’s words I’ve never spoken to him before, although I’ve felt this many times.
“I’ve missed you too, Y/N.”

His teeth sink into the soft skin of my neck while he picks up his pace. His thrusts are quite irregular, as if his mind isn’t with him in the exact moment. I don’t give it another thought as I feel pleasure taking over my body. My fingertips are digging into Harry’s shoulder blades and it edges him on to go even faster.

The only sound filling the air is skin against skin, mixed in with different moans dripping from our tongues. I weave my fingers through his locks once more and give a tight pull, dragging a desperate growling sound from Harry. It causes a shiver to erupt along my naked body and I press my perky breasts against Harry’s hot, flushed chest.

We’re a mingling mess, but it’s just as I love it to be. His hand squeezes my ass roughly and it spirals me even closer to my impending orgasm. I can sense Harry is close to, and to aid him, I start swivelling my hips along his; chasing us closer and closer.

It hits me suddenly, waves of pleasure taking over my body and I chant Harry’s name over and over again as I slowly dwell down from my orgasm. I become aware of Harry still chasing his own, and I pull his body closer against mine. My teeth sink into his shoulder, kitten licking it afterwards.

I slowly drag my lips across his skin towards his ear, again nibbling just the slightest bit on his earlobe before I breathe into his ear; little, heavy moans leaving my lips as I show him just how much I enjoy this moment between us. It seems it’s all that Harry needs as he grunts and stills; his hand gripping my neck tightly, head hidden by my hair.

“That was – I –“ Harry tries to say something, still hidden, and I shut him up as I squeeze both his ass cheeks roughly, growling underneath him. “Hm.”

“I forgot about the sounds you make, Y/n. Damn.” Harry groans as he rolls off me, sprawled against his bedding as his chest heaves up and down at a rapid pace. A giggle passes my lips as I turn onto my side, my nails slowly dragging along his toned abdomen. I see his cock twitch as I do so, Harry’s eyelids fluttering closed.

“Unless you want to go again, right now, I advise you to stop.” Harry moans and I stutter for the shortest moments before moving again. “I don’t think I’d mind that much.”
Harry growls again, pulling my frame close to his. His blunt nails dig into my thigh, slowly dragging up towards my ass before kissing me again.

“Just a second of breath-catching, Y/n. Please.”
“Well okay…” I let out a little whine, my fingertips ghosting along his stomach towards his private regions, lingering there as I see Harry visibly shudder. “I’m not done with you anyway.” I chuckle, dropping my hand all together before reaching for the duvet underneath us.

“Oh, you’re in for a treat.” Harry groans again, kneading my breast in his left palm, tongue wetting his plump lips. I shudder at the anticipation of what the evening might still hold for me.

thirteenth time’s a charm - peter parker

Originally posted by vintagejosh

Pairing: Peter Parker x reader

Summary:  Prompt List #12: “Try me.” ; #16. You know I love you, right?“

It takes thirteen times for Y/N to realize why, and for Peter to tell her.

Requested: no

Warnings: language

 Okay so I decided to switch it up a bit because I had so many similar prompt requests so ya!! Enjoy!! Oh and I would love it if y'all sent me what your favorite imagine is so far! I love hearing your feedback! And whichever imagine gets the most votes I’ll make a part 2!!:) So pls message/inbox me your answers! Oh and I’m super excited to announce that I will be starting a short fic soon! It will be inspired by sddonald22 because their request was so original and i loved it! So stay tuned!! Love u all<333  masterlist below!

MASTERLIST

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“I promise tomorrow night, Y/N”

“I’m so sorry, I got caught up with something”

“Had to get something for Aunt May, I’ll see you tomorrow I promise”

Those were just some of the numerous excuses Peter told you almost every night. Every night for the past two weeks you’ve been stood up by your best friend, Peter.

You’d been acting as if it didn’t bother you each time his name would pop up on your phone, indicating another excuse, another day, over and over again. Before something had caused Peter to vanish every night with no explanation, you two were inseparable. Monday and Friday nights were movie nights, while Tuesday and Thursday’s were study nights.

Excitement stormed through your veins as soon as your knuckles hit his door, waiting patiently for Peter, or Aunt May to open the door, inviting you in. You treasured those nights, because Peter was around.

But tonight was different. Tonight was the night you had really had enough. You moved from working on your Algebra homework, which Peter was supposed to help you with, it was Thursday after all.

You shoved your pencil back into your backpack along with your textbook and spiral, zipping it up for the night. Sighing, you shut off your desk lamp whilst grabbing your phone, plopping down on the bed. You gazed at the ceiling, your mind recalling the last movie night the two of you had, the memories so vivid.

“Hey, Y/N/N! I hope you’re ready for Empire Strikes back!” his lips curl into that breathtaking smile you loved so much.

His smile being contagious you laughed, “Of course! It’s your turn to pick anyway,” you threw your hands up and walked in automatically since it’s a place of familiarity.

During the movie, you look over at Peter, his big, bright brown eyes glued to the TV, excitement filling them. Your heart fluttered at his gaze, your feelings becoming stronger by the minute. He catches your gaze and locks eyes with yours, bright brown meeting Y/E/C, both of your hearts beating a mile a minute without the knowledge of the others feelings. You smiled at each other and then focused back on film, realizing these were the nights you cherished the most.

Your phone lit up with a notification, breaking you from your thoughts.

From Pete:-): hey I’m sorry about tonight. Pls find some way to forgive me again. Study hard for that Algebra test tmrw, I know you’ll do great.

You sighed heavily once more, letting the disappointment flood your memory, knowing that whatever he was doing must be more important to him than you.

The next day at school, you were pulling out your Algebra text book to slip back into your locker, getting ready for your afternoon class when you felt a someone lean against the locker next to yours.

“So, you miss me last night?” the familiar voice waking you up from your school daze.

You forcefully slam your locker shut once you see Peter cockily leaned against the lockers, eyebrows raised at you. Your eyes narrow, whipping your head in his direction, anger bubbling deep inside the pit of your stomach. You scan his figure up and down, his soft hair slightly over his head this morning. His eyes played with you while your gaze fell on him, causing your cheeks to slightly flush on instinct from him gaze.

God dammit, why does he have to look so fucking cute today, the day I’ve actually taken into my account of anger at him.

Breaking your trance you roll your eyes at him and turn your body to face him completely, “Not really. After text number thirteen of blowing me off, I’ve seemed to develop kind of a taste for disappointment,” you sassed back, a frown displayed across your lips as you watch his smile fade as your sentence progressed.

His eyebrows scrunched and his eyes dropped in guilt at you, “W-What? Thirteen times?” he stuttered out, his cheeks becoming slightly flushed at the numerous times he’s blown you off.

You shrugged your shoulders at him, sighing while turning on your heel to the opposite end of the hallway, heading to your next class. You couldn’t confront him about it in the middle of the hallway, you’d get so fired up you’d end up making a scene. You weaved in and out of the crowded halls, ignoring Peter’s calls to you as you make another trek to Chemistry without your friend by your side.

“Please, Y/N, please talk to me,” Peter pleaded in your ear while you continue to pour the solution into the flask.

You nudged your goggles up with your forefinger, shaking you shoulders and thoughts as you attempted to focus on the lab and not the pleading boy next to you. His sighs continued since the beginning of class as he attempted to get your attention, his heart sad for leaving you lonely for yet another night.

Peter scooted his stool closer to you, neck craning towards your busy mind as he shoved is elbows on to the lab table, “I’m sorry, okay You know that. I just was so busy that you wouldn’t understand..,” he pleads for the millionth time in a span of ten minutes.

Your brain fought the urge to look over your right shoulder to stare into those captivating brown eyes that sucked you in every time. But no, not this time. This time was different. This time you actually decided to listen to the intellectual part of yourself and realize what Peter has done to you thirteen times, is absolutely ridiculous. The added play was the fact that every time this happened, he would just run out an apology, with no explanation. You never asked for one, because you felt bad. You didn’t want to interfere with his personal life. Even though, you and Ned basically were his personal life.

But, today you decided differently. You would interfere. You would crack him.

Your mind wandered back to reality, your eyes blinking rapidly as his continuous pleads began to ring back into your eardrum. Rolling your eyes, you reach up and yank off your lab goggles, turning to him with an exasperated sigh, sass taking over your demeanor, “Try me.”

Your voice sounded skeptical yet angry at the same time, arms folded across your chest, lips pursed and Y/E/C eyes narrowed at his guilt stricken face. As the words carried to his ears, he felt a lump in his throat begin to form with the amount of lies he’s about to let out in front of you. His hands became sweaty at your intent gaze, worried you may be able to detect the lies about to roll of his tongue.

He cracked his knuckles, head jerking to the side, mouth open as his jaw tightened in frustration before looking back up and stuttering a little, “It’s… complicated, Y/N.”

You eyes roll once again at his seemingly useless and generic reply to your concern for his nightly mishaps. You reach over and put back on your goggles, scooting your chair up farther before muttering to him sharply, “Much too complicated for me to understand though, right?” you sass back, shaking your head as Peter just sat there and looked at you with an intense, yet guilty stare.

Your snarky attitude didn’t stop there. Your previous comment caused something in your brain to click as your eyes met Peter’s in an intense glare, the back of your mind telling you not to stop there.

This is the thirteenth time, Y/N. And every other time you’ve let him off the hook. Not this time, don’t do it.

Your mouth opened widely before turning toward Peter once again, before allowing your mind to take over and let everything you’ve been wanting to say to him for the past two weeks roll off your tongue.

“You know what, Peter? Every other time you’ve bailed on me, I’ve taken it with a grain of salt. I would let you skip your sorry ass into school every day, the usual sappy and half-ass apology on the tip of your tongue as you walked up to me, prepared to hit me with it. But this time, the thirteenth time, I’m fed up. It’s not even an apology anymore, Peter! It’s a game to you! No one in their right mind would make plans with someone night after night and then bail every fucking time!”

Your voice grew louder as each word jumped off your tongue. You knew you had attracted a few of your classmates’ glares, but you didn’t care. Peter never once separated his gaze from yours, his jaw tightening every time your voice grew. His guilty persona allowed you to cut him some slack, slight regret flooding your veins, your heart getting in the way of a heated and concerning argument.

Damn you, feelings. Fuck you.

Feeling your teacher’s eyes on you, you picked up a flask to make it look as if you were working. Your attention snapped back to Peter instantly, head cocking sideways as you impatiently waited for yet another one of his lame, overused excuses to reply to your heated rant.

You swallowed the lump in your throat, Peter sighing as you did so. Your lips stayed pursed as you carefully watched his next movement, which cause your eyes to fill with surprise and shock. Peter’s muscular, calloused hand reached over the lab solution (lol) and placed itself on top yours. The spark instantly ignited your veins by his sweet gesture and heart-warming touches that set you on fire.

He looked over at you softly, eyes settling on yours in concern, and radiated something you couldn’t quite identify in the moment, “Y/N, I know that what I’ve done these past few weeks has been so shitty and such a dick move and I truly am so, so sorry,” he let out, lips turning downward in a sad frown, eyes pleaded into yours, hopeful forgiveness filled them.

You heavily sighed, head looking down and then back up at Peter’s gaze, opening your mouth to say something snarky yet forgiving all wrapped in one. But before you could respond, Peter began to let out his apology once again.

“What I’ve been doing could somehow put you in danger if it turned into something potentially bad, very quickly. And, I don’t know what I would do to myself if something ever happened to you, god. I wouldn’t be able to go on,” his voice stuttered with fear and angst as the thought of your life at risk flashed into his mind.

You felt your heart puddle at the bottom of your stomach, face heating as the soft voice of Peter portraying his immense concern for your being met your ears in a soft trance. A smile formed across your face, eyes smiling as well as your brain processed what your response would be.

Peter cut you off, scooting even closer to you once more before staring deeply into your Y/E/C orbs, “You know I love you, right?” he questioned, voice quiet yet soft as the words danced off his thin pinks lips. Your arms and legs grew weak at his sudden comment.

On a romantic level or even on a friendly one, you knew where your heart belonged and why your concern for bailing on you was so deep.

Whispering lightly between the two of you, you answered truthfully, “I do now.”

dear myself, note this;
you shouldn’t feel sad on times when he doesn’t call
or times when the conversation runs out of topic and finally comes to an end,
you shouldn’t feel so miserable on times when his name doesn’t pop up in your phone anymore even though he himself still pops up in your head 24/7,
you shouldn’t feel sorrowful on times when you look at him
but he’s not looking at you first like he used to do,
are you happy when you see a rainbow?
do you feel sad when it is finally gone?
have you ever assumed it as yours?
exactly.
—  f.f
2

She fell in love with him when she was only six years old, soft pink sweaters and blonde pigtails completely infatuated by dark wavy hair and suspiciously wise, stormy blue eyes. He was like something she had seen before, their was something about the way his head hung a little too low, almost as if he was carrying something heavy on his shoulders a feeling six year old Betty Cooper was all too familiar with.

It had never been easy growing up in the Cooper household, the familiar motto hung on a plaque by the front door “a place for everything and everything in its place.” But perhaps the one thing that had no place was the troubled blonde child hidden in the shadows, scarred palms holding onto a stuffed orange kitten. She would never be Polly Cooper, she wasn’t nearly as beautiful as her sister and her mother let that be known daily, for Alice Cooper looks were the most important thing a girl could have, it didn’t matter that Betty was incredibly intelligent for her age or the fact that at only six years old she had changed more tires than half the men in the small towns mechanic shop, she wasn’t beautiful and she wasn’t enough.

Her father didn’t want to get involved, if he caught her crying to herself under the kitchen table, he would simple touch her cheek with two fingers and whisper “it gets better sport, hang on.” And so she did, she hung on. She hung on tight.

She did however have one escape and that was getting lost in fantasies of her beanie wearing knight in shining armor, they didn’t speak, to be fair Jughead Jones never spoke to anyone, he kept to himself, eerily similar to Betty. One day Betty had brought up her thoughts to her older sister and had received the dirtiest look she had ever seen

“The Jones family is bad news, word around town is his mom beats him up on the daily, you stay away from him, nothing good can come of those people.” Polly had spit, her face scrunched up in disgust.

So Betty did, Betty always did what was asked of her, she never argued, she never fought, she simply agreed and went about her business, eyes downcast and fingers itching to tear into the skin of her soft palms.

“Betty! Get out of that garage and get going to school, you don’t need another Tardy on your attendance.” The shrill voice of Alice Cooper called from inside, effectively tearing Betty out of her reminiscing, she had no idea why Jughead Jones was on her mind this morning.
The gorgeous blonde pushed a stray piece of honey blonde hair out of her face as she wiped her grease stained hands on her pants, she had been working on getting an old Camaro up and running, she had even taken the gorgeous cherry red classic home from her fathers shop to work on overnight, she needed this car to work, it could sell for good money.

“Elizabeth!”

Betty rolled her eyes, dropping her wrench with a clatter and heading inside

“I’m coming, I’m coming.” She grumbled, zooming past her mother and grabbing an apple

“Aren’t you going to get changed?” Alice asked, her nose wrinkled in disgust at Bettys plain blue jeans and loose white t shirt, a permanent oil stain smudged across her cheek as she shook her head and headed for the front door.

“I’ll see you when I get home.” She called, slamming the door and finally exhaling. That woman always exhausted her, she was glad to escape to school. The walk to Riverdale took her about ten minutes tops, immediately Jumped by her best friend Veronica Lodge as soon as she stepped foot onto the hall.

“Guess who finally managed to get daddy to agree to letting me have the Porsche?” Veronica clutched Betty’s arm, her dark maroon nails digging into Betty’s arm as she bounced excitedly.

Betty laughed
“I’m guessing it’s you?”

Veronica threw her hands in the air and posed
“Bingo.” She grinned.

The blonde and the black haired best friends continued on their walk to the lockers

“I’m jealous. You better let me take a look at the inside of the hood, you never know how those German mechanics work, they could ship it down here just to have it break down in a week.” Betty pat the raven haired beauties shoulder affectionately.

“You really think I’d ever drive a car without having you look at it. It’s just one of the many perks of having you as a best friend."Veronica wiggled her eyebrows teasingly as they arrived at their lockers.

Betty rolled her eyes with a smirk as she looked up from the inside of her locker, her eyes catching on the very person who had been running through her mind all day, she leaned against the locker beside hers, messy ponytail pressing into the cool metal as Jughead Jones, popped his head phones in and shoved books into his satchel, he was so good looking it was sometimes hard to watch, his lean figure was lined with muscle and the way his arms flexed under the flannel he wore when he bent down was enough to have Betty drooling all over herself, if that wasn’t enough there was the fact that his mouth was the literal definition of perfect, heart shaped and deliciously pink, waiting to be..

"Excuse me, Jane Eyre? Do you want to stop pining for about five seconds and pick up all the books that have spilt from your bag.” Veronica grinned cockily, her eyes sparkling at her goofy friend.

Betty looked down quickly and groaned, sure enough her book bag was unzipped and all of her papers and books were scattered on the floor

“Great” she mumbled, looking up at Veronica who was still grinning “are you gonna help me or just laugh at my misery.”

Suddenly the dark haired girls eyes lit up
“Sorry Betty but Archie’s coming this way, be right back.” With those final words she flew down the hallway, heels clicking as she jumped into her boyfriends arms.

Betty sighed
“Gotta go Betty, gotta go make out with my boyfriend in this very public hallway, I can’t spend two seconds helping you pick up your endless amounts paper from the ground” she mocked playfully, blowing another stray strand of hair out of her face. Reaching for her notebook, a large tanned hand covered her own, Betty’s eyes went wide as she stared at the familiar looking combat boots squatted before her.

“Quite the friend you’ve got there.” Jughead jones smiled lazily , handing her the notebook as he helped her stand.

Keep your cool Betty Cooper, stay calm
“Yeah, well she’s a little… distracted.” Her eyes flickered to the couple currently making out in front of some poor freshmans locker.

“I see” Jughead smiled, shoving his NOW empty hands into his pockets

Betty swallowed slowly
“Thankyou. For ya know, helping me. My books just can’t manage to stay in my bag.” She shrugged delicately.

“Well it’s better than your lunch running away.” Jughead joked visibly wincing at his poor excuse at humor.

Fortunately for both of them the first period school bell rang, causing the shuffle of students.

“Well…thanks again.” Betty smiled sincerely, hiking her bag over her shoulder, just as she was about to walk away the dark haired boy placed a hand to her forearm, the space he was holding seemed to burn under his touch and he seemed to notice too, staring down at his hand before removing it quickly, his hand came up to her face and gently brushed at a spot on her cheek.

“You’ve got a little..” he trailed off holding up his palm to reveal the oil on his hand.

Betty blushed bright pink
“Oil.” She spoke quietly “see you around Jughead Jones.”

His eyes snapped to hers

“See you around Betty Cooper”

Oh yeah Jughead you definitely will be seeing me around.

Special Delivery (S)

Pairing: Reader x Suga
Words: 4400
Genre: Smut

(Y/N) was just a regular girl, working in a restaurant and delivering food until someone started to place special orders.  

Originally posted by everydaysatanist

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New Man

SURPRISE BITCHES IT’S ME AGAIN

I’M SO SORRY FOR DISAPPEARING HERE HAVE A FIC TO MAKE UP FOR IT I’VE MISSED YOU ALL SO MUCH XXX

summary: it’s been a year, and dan and phil haven’t spoken since the night the door had slammed and their relationship was placed on its deathbed. dan knows phil isn’t happy. dan knows andrew isn’t phil’s type. he knows there are fewer things phil would rather do less than spend his free time in the gym, eat kale, and drive cars that probably cost more than his house. dan isn’t happy either, but there’s little he can do other than watch phil’s new life blossom from behind the glass of a phone screen.

(aka basically a fic based on ed sheeran’s absolute Banger of a song new man I highly recommend)

word count: 7k

warnings: alcohol, brief mention of smoking

-

“What are you doing tomorrow night?”

He freezes, his heart thudding.

“What?”

“Are you around at all?” Phil prompts, and the lack of hesitation in his voice is almost disconcerting.

Dan skips a beat. He knows this is only the vodka talking, only the alcohol unzipping Phil’s reserved exterior and giving way to a pushy, over-enthusiastic and giggly side to his character, but there’s a part of him, albeit a very small part buried deep down, that desperately wants to say yes.

“Um-“ Dan gulps, his chest thumping. “Are you sure about that?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well,” he sighs. “Let’s face it. We haven’t spoken in months, about anything, and you just pop up and phone me completely out of nowhere,” he gulps, before adding in a lower voice, “and it’s not like we ended on brilliant terms, either.”

“Which is why I’m saying we should meet up now,” Phil urges. “We both miss each other, don’t we?”

He’s twenty weeks deep, and apparently they went to Paris last summer.

His thumb slides idly along the glass, scrolling through filtered picture after filtered picture. The Eiffel Tower. The Louvre. A familiar face beside the River Seine, the city lights stretching into amber ribbons on the water’s surface. Some expensive-looking car parked on the side of the road, white shine and blacked-out windows. White wine on the balcony, the sunset a pastel cascade over the city. It looks as if they had a good time.

He lurks with great care, monitoring the movement of every muscle in his thumb in hopes of avoiding the dreaded double tap. Accidentally liking your ex’s new boyfriend’s pictures in itself is certainly one thing, but ones dating way back over five months ago is another.

It’s harder to look at Phil’s Instagram that far back. When there’s a red heart below the picture instead of a transparent one, it takes him a while to figure out whether or not he’d already liked the picture or if he’d slipped up.

He scrolls more. Cars, cars, four tattooed guys at some exotic-looking bar wearing matching grins, a beach, more fucking cars, gym selfie, gym selfie, and-

What the fuck?

He frowns at his phone screen, peering into the glass with narrowed eyes like he’s seeing properly for the first time.

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Sleepless nights

As I mentioned in my post for Nursey Week, I’m from New York City, and by that I mean Manhattan. But I go to school in the mountains, where the most noise we hear at night is the occasional truck passing by. What this all means is that I can barely sleep on breaks now, because it’s too noisy and there are always lights shining through the windows. If Nursey lives on the Upper East Side, he doesn’t have the lights problem, but I’m still going to project my exhaustion on him (with some NurseyDex because of course). Here’s to 4 hours of sleep a night.

It’s the first night of summer break and Nursey is in his childhood bed glaring at the ceiling wondering why his mind is refusing to let him sleep. Maybe it’s the incessant honking of taxis, maybe it’s the way the streetlamp shines directly through the slit in the curtains that can never be fully blocked. Maybe it’s the fact that the smell of cigarettes is filling his room from the assholes smoking on the stoop right below his window. Either way, Nursey’s done. He just wants to sleep, damn it. Heaving what he knows is an overly-dramatic sigh, he rolls onto his back and pulls the sheet over his head.

The phone’s light is harsh against Nursey’s eyes, but he squints at it anyway. 4:37 in the fucking morning. Nursey scowls and goes to Snapchat. If he can’t sleep, he might as well see how other people spent their first night of break. Ransom and Holster are unsurprisingly together, at a motel somewhere along the way to Ransom’s house. Bitty’s Snapstory shows a cute fully-stocked kitchen with a cobbler cooling on the counter; the timestamp says 1:12am. Farmer decided to practically livesnap her and Chowder’s trip to California, and the last photo is of Chowder passed out on the seat of a plane, captioned “we literally just boarded.” Shitty sent Nursey a series of videos at 12:43, smoking, ranting about a case he recently read, and telling Nursey to “get a night of some real sleep you fuckin’ beaut.” Nursey scoffs. Sleep. Right.

But then he gets to Dex’s Snapstory and is surprised to see a timestamp of 4:29am against a black background, captioned “it’s too early for this shit.” Nursey switches over to text and types with one eye open, hits send, and promptly drops his phone on his face.

Me: too early for what?

Nursey isn’t expecting Dex to respond, but a few seconds later his phone is buzzing against his nose from where he left it.

Dexyyy: tf are you doing awake Nurse

Me: idk man what are YOU doing awake

Dexyyy: You’re gonna chirp me and it’s too early to be chirped

Me: awww dexy you take away all my fun

Me: pinky promise i won’t

Dexyyy: Ugh fine. It’s the beginning of lobster season. Gotta start waking up before the spirits go to sleep.

Me: damnnn dex, cant catch a break can you

Dexyyyy: You promised

Me: that was hardly a chirp

Dexyyy: Whatever

Dexyyy: So what the fuck are you doing awake

Me: lol

Me: couldn’t sleep. Too many cars, too much light, too many thoughts

Dexyyy: City boy.

Me: is that supposed to be an insult?

Dexyyy: Don’t know. Maybe?

Me: gotta step up your game, poindexter

Dexyyy: Shut up Nurse

Dexyyy: I gotta go

Me: have fun killing innocent life forms

Dexyyy: Fuck off

Dexyyy: Just go the duck to sleep nursey

Dexyyy: *fuck. Ugh.

Me: lolll

Me: yessir

Me: gnight

Dexyyy: sleep well

Me: zzzzz

It’s 4:48 in the morning. Nursey is contemplating just getting up and starting his day. The pre-dawn light is starting to filter into his room through the curtain, casting a hazy rectangle onto the wall. Nursey gazes at it, thinking about how somewhere a few hundred miles away, Dex is preparing to get on his uncle’s boat and spend the morning hours on the water. Nursey wonders if the sun looks different from Dex’s amber eyes than it does from his own grey-green ones. He closes his eyes, thinking about how he and Dex went from nearly killing each other during the seniors’ graduation ceremony, to texting before the sun came up.

When Nursey opens his eyes, six hours have passed. He stumbles out of bed and stretches until his shoulder pops. Glancing at his phone, he sees three texts from Dex: the first two are sent at 6:26 in the morning, and the last at 11:39.

Dexyyy: Don’t tell Jack but I’d almost rather be doing suicides than fucking fishing for lobster. I smell like bait.

Dexyyy: Didn’t realize how used to cushy college life I’d gotten. I’m getting new blisters.

Dexyyy: Are you still asleep

Nursey realizes he’s smiling at his phone. And since it’s the first day of break and he has nothing to do all day, he’s pressing the call button before he can talk himself out of it. Dex picks up on the third ring.

“Dex!”

“Finally get your ass out of bed?”

“You realize that you have to text me every night now? So I can go to sleep? I only was able to sleep because you told me to.”

“Nursey, what the fuck.”

“C’mon man.”

“No.”

And then they’re off, Nursey asking about Dex’s morning and listening to Dex complain about ‘going soft’ during the year while Nursey rolls his eyes and gets dressed, then Dex grouching about how Nursey doesn’t have anything to do for the summer, and an hour later Nursey finds himself booking bus tickets up to Maine while talking about how they’re going to celebrate Chowder’s birthday that year. He pauses just before hitting the ‘book tickets’ button.

“Dex.”

“Yes?”

“Uh. You sure it’s cool if I come up? I mean, like, dude, this isn’t really…”

“What we do?”

“Yeah.”

“Well. I don’t know. Maybe we should try being friends without Chowder playing middleman.”

“Okay, yeah, that’s chill.”

“Ugh, if say ‘chill’ ONCE I will throw you off a pier.”

“You just want to see me wet.” (Nursey nearly smacks himself for that one.)

“Fuck off, Nurse. We literally see each other soaked in sweat like six days a week.”

“Okay, well, tickets are booked.”

“‘Swawesome. See you in a few days?”

“Yeah man, see you soon.”

And then Nursey is left in a New York City brownstone grinning madly in the middle of his room, thinking how much better this summer has suddenly become.

tea for two... (1/1)

“you’ve been camping in a crappy tent next to my really comfortable caravan/motor home and it’s been raining cats and dogs for ages, do you want to come in and have a cup of tea to warm up?” (5000 words, rated M) AO3


Setting her Kindle down on her chest for the third time in ten minutes, she covers her eyes with her palms and tries to shake away the thought that keeps creeping past her well-constructed rules. Rules that don’t allow welcoming strange men into her camper. Rules that don’t care about the flash flood warning that keeps popping up on her phone and definitely don’t care that his tent is at the bottom of a hill. Sure, he’s seemed relatively harmless the few times they’ve crossed paths, twice at the showers and once down at the lake. His smile had been friendly each time, mildly flirtatious and devastatingly sexy, but not smarmy and he’d left her alone. A casual wave is as much as she’d gotten, one that she’d returned without thinking. She’d seen him sitting at his campfire the night before, seemingly transfixed to the flames as if lost in thought, or memories maybe, but that had just been her spinning tales as she’d gazed upon his fire-lit profile. Even after the logs were little more than ash, he’d stayed there, waiting until the last ember floated away on the breeze before turning in for the night. She can admit to herself that there’s something about him that intrigues her, his confidence in his solitude, perhaps, something she knows a bit about herself.

So why is she lying here fighting an urge to save him? Who says he even needs, or wants, to be saved?

Frustration has her shucking the covers from her legs so she can stand and pace up and down the narrow walkway between her bunk and the kitchenette. Each time she passes the small window she pauses for a longer look, the rain pelting the window obscuring the view the faint glow of a lantern illuminating his tent from the inside. Eventually, she just stops and stares, waiting to see if she will see his shadow move past the light. When she does, it’s like a flip gets switched and a decision she doesn’t remember making is already made and she’s shoving her feet into her hiking boots and fumbling her head through the hole of her $3.00 rain poncho.

Her jeans and face are soaked almost immediately after stepping outside. Curses fly from her lips as her boots sink into unseen puddles of mud and she nearly topples down the hill, her hand grabbing a nearby tree catching her fall. By the time she’s reached the side of his tent she’s convinced this was the dumbest idea she’s ever had. It’s only seeing the shadow of him standing and moving to the entrance that stops her from turning around and heading back up the hill.

A dark head of hair emerges from the zipper, one hand shielding eyes she knows are the brightest of blue from the unrelenting rain

“Everything alright, love?” 

Bristling slightly at the endearment, she aims her flashlight pointedly at the puddle overflowing into the opening of his tent.

“You seem to be taking on water there, Captain.”

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