smirnoff bottle

Free My Spirit (Bucky x Reader)

Originally posted by jamesbuchananbarnesisbae

Bucky Barnes x Reader Oneshot 

Masterlist

Just a quick something I hate-wrote down at two in the morning. It’s probably shit. But I hope you enjoy it anyway :) This isn’t proofread at all, so please point out any mistakes. Thanks!

Word Count:1510

Warnings: mostly angst, some fluff, cursing


It was hard sometimes. Pretending to be happy, when in reality all you were was a broken shell of a person. Ignoring the ache for acceptance was becoming easier and easier, but sometimes, there were days when your spirit cried out in agony, wishing to be freed.

Others envied you, thinking that you were living ‘the life’ – a lavish, carefree life filled with flowing wines, expensive dishes, silken sheets. In a sense, that was true; you had more than enough tasty food to eat, an overflow of beverages and drawers of delicate materials that felt like they swam over your skin. But were you happy? No.

Being part of ‘The Avengers’ sounded like an exclusive and important job. All of a sudden, shops sold your face on birthday cards, little figurines of you for children to play with, magazines with your face disgustingly dolled up and photoshopped onto the front cover. People aspired to be like you, their faces filled with admiration every time they saw you. They called you a ‘hero’ and idolised you endlessly.

But you knew you were no hero. You were a coward.

A hero was someone who went through pain and still came out strong, not someone who is afraid of their own feelings. A hero is someone who opposes evil, who resists darkness. A hero is someone like Bucky Barnes.

You admired him not only because of his impressive physical strength and his friendship with Captain America. You admired him because he was broken, just like you. Yet, he still fought, trying to get the world to see him for who he really was, not who he was forced to be for decades.

God, you loved him, so damn much that it hurt. It was hard not to, with his charming personality and stunning good looks. He was always so sweet and kind, making your heart melt. He was one of your closest friends, always there for you when you needed him. You were happy, because Bucky was the light in your life, your safe haven.

It pained your heart to know he’d never be yours.

You were nothing compared to Natalia Romanova. Her fiery hair and sexy lips were enough to win any man over. Not to mention her natural grace and sharp wit. Oh, and her large bosom.

You’ve seen the way they look at each other. Longing, heated gazes thrown from opposite ends of the room, touches that lasted a second too long, secretive smirks half hidden behind smouldering eyes. It was obvious to anyone that they wanted each other, the not-so-subtle signs were clear as day. Your co-workers only encouraged them, telling them to ‘stop playing’ and ‘finally get together, dammit’.

How could you ever compete with the Black Widow?

These thoughts nagged at you as you performed your daily activities. You tried your damn best at everything, you really did. But she always seemed to be better than you in everything. Hit a bullseye at the shooting range? She hits five. Lift a thirty-pound weight? She lifts fifty. Gather required intel in one day? She does it in an hour.

You didn’t mean to envy her, but you really couldn’t help it. Everyone you ever gave a damn about chose her, not you. It really got on your nerves after a while.

Hence why you were currently swigging straight from a bottle of Smirnoff at 1 am on the roof of the Avengers tower. A mission was underway, once again finding information about a presumed HYDRA base. The mission was delicate, requiring the agents to dress up ‘fancy’ and attend an elaborate party hosted by a suspected HYDRA leader. You had eagerly volunteered, hoping that this could be your chance to show that you were, in fact, capable of acting like a dame. You were desperate to prove that you, too, could be seductive. You were even more excited when you found that two avengers would act as a ‘couple’ and attend the party. Your heart stuttered with joy when you discovered that the designated male agent chosen was Bucky Barnes.

Your heart dropped to the floor and shattered once again when you were told that the designated female agent would be Natalia.

Once again, that gaze was thrown across the room, making a lump form in your throat. Of course. You should’ve known.

You would never be chosen for a mission like that.

Pretending everything was alright was harder than ever tonight. Pretending you didn’t care about them was even harder.

The liquid in the half empty bottle sloshed around as you took yet another long slurp, some alcohol escaping down your chin, not that you cared. You didn’t care about anything anymore. You didn’t care at all.

The sky was clear tonight, constellations of stars twinkling at you happily, mocking you. Gazing up into the endless dark blue void, you wondered if a world existed, just one world, in which you could be truly happy…

Quiet footsteps interrupted your pathetic daydream. Looking around, your insides plummeted with dread when you locked gazes with the handsome supersoldier, who was still dressed in his smart, this-outfit-kills-and-I-know-it clothes. Quickly grabbing the vodka and hiding it beside you, you tore your gaze away from James’s caring eyes.

“Are you alright, (Y/n)?” He questioned, slowly sitting down beside you. You shrugged nonchalantly in response.

“O’ course. Why wouldn’t I be?” You replied, trying to appear casual.

Bucky sighed. “That”, he motioned to the alcohol hidden beside you, “tells me otherwise. Now, what’s going on?”

You scoffed, your liquid friend making you much bolder than you actually were.

”Nothing’s going on. And why do you even care?”

Bucky frowned deeply at this, looking straight into your eyes. “I care about you because you’re my friend, (Y/n).”

Ah, there it goes. That disgusting boundary. Friend.

“Yeah”, you answered, rolling your eyes. “That’s all I am. Anyway, how’s Natasha doing? Is she just a friend as well?”

Bucky looked stunned. “What on earth are you talking about, (Y/n)?! Of course she’s just a friend. Why would you think otherwise?”

You grabbed your bottle and took another swig, eyes filling with hurt and longing.

“I’ve seen the way you look at each other. Why don’t you stop playing around and just fuck already?”

The brunet gasped, looking at you with a mixture of shock and anger. “Do you really think I’m that type of person? Nothing romantic, just purely sexual?”

You shrugged once again. “Well, the way you shamelessly stare at her breasts brings that to mind, yes.”

Bucky ran his prosthetic hand through his long hair. “That’s very offensive, (Y/n). Both to me and to Natasha. First of all, I do not stare or want to fuck her, as you so nicely put it. And second, Natasha is not the girl I want.”

Hearing this, your heart seemed to crush.

“Oh yeah?” You practically spat. “Then who is? Wanda? Sharon? Or just a random whore?”

Bucky growled at this, getting up abruptly. “You’re wasted, (Y/n). I’m not having this conversation with you when you’re this drunk.”

You got up as well, your legs slightly shaky, a fact you chose to ignore. “Is that so, Barnes? Scared to admit who you have the hots for?”

“Oh, for the love of…” Bucky spun you around to face him, his piercing blue eyes blazing. “It’s you, alright, (Y/n)?! It’s you! From the very start, it has always been you. You were always there for me, you always made me feel human again. I love you!”

You stood there, frozen, not daring to move a muscle. You had sobered up quite fast at the yelling, and you couldn’t believe what you were hearing. Bucky loved…you?

“Me?” You whispered, a single tear trickling down your cheek. Bucky’s expression softened immediately, his arms pulling you close to him.

“Yes, you”, he murmured. “No one makes me feel like you do. You make me feel like life is worth it. You make me feel like someone finally gives a shit. You may not believe this, but I love you.”

A choked sob left your throat. “I love you, too.” You hoped to whatever God was out there that you weren’t dreaming, that this wasn’t just some cruel figment of your own imagination.

Bucky smiled, gently brushing his large hand over your cheek. Your breath got caught in your throat as he moved closer to you, eyes moving down to glance at your lips. You froze, feeling his breaths fan over your face and watching as brunet shut his eyes slowly and brushed his lips over yours softly.

Getting over your shock quickly, you gripped his neck and crashed his lips onto yours, shutting your eyes tightly as stray tears fell down your lashes. You felt like you were finally able to breathe; as Bucky’s kisses were all you needed to stay alive.

He loved you. James Buchanan Barnes loved you.

After all, there was a world in which you could be happy. It seems that your spirit can be free at last.


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i could teach you - taeyong scenario

Lee Taeyong

words - 1073

genre - bartender!taeyong, (idk what this fic is man really), angst?

part - one / two / three / four / five

soundtrack - kid bloom: i kissed a girl and she kissed me (x)

Originally posted by yoon-to-the-oh

As you passed your fingertips idly across the crystal counter, you raised the shot glass to your crimson stained lips, sinking the pellucid liquid down in one gulp. You hoped the burn would somehow erase the ache that had swelled up within you. Or at least helped you to forget its existence. Groaning, you swiveled around in the high chair you’d perched yourself on the second you’d entered the club. Leaning your back on the bar behind you, you casted eyes to the pulsating waves that made up the crowd. Although you couldn’t even see them as your vision was a spinning kaleidoscope of fuchsia and lavender lights. Perhaps you’d taken one too many shots. But who fucking cares anyway. It’s not like he did. If he did care, you wouldn’t have found him fucking a complete stranger in your bed. On the night of your anniversary.

You burst out in laughter at the sardonicism that made up your life, tossing your head back and beaming at the white ceiling. The couple seated a distance away from you throw you a speechless stare and after a hushed hurried discussion between them, they collected their stuff to flee, leaving empty glasses in their wake. You watched them go not bothered by their reactions towards you at all.

“You know, if you’re gonna scare my customers away, I think you should leave.”

The voice came from behind you. It’s low, deep even and the speaker talks loud enough so that he can be heard over the earsplitting music. You don’t bother to turn around. Keeping your eyes on the sea of people, you simply replied, “I’m your customer too. It may be my fault that they left or perhaps it was your shit service.”

“I make great drinks, thank you very fucking much and I must have great service if I’m tolerating your ass here.”

You whirled around at this, slamming your glass on the counter and gripping a tight hold on the marble to stop yourself from puking all over the place. The bartender, and your current offender, raised one very fine dark eyebrow at your antics, shaking his head slightly in disapproval.

“Shut up and get me another shot.”

“Can’t,” He shoot you a rueful smile, white teeth glowing, and shrugs his slim shoulders in indifference. “You’ve had over twelve. If I give you more, you might die from alcohol poisoning.”

“Who cares, maybe I want to die,” I remarked, staring openly into his brown eyes. They widend in disbelief at your words, and concern pours into them like a stormy sky setting lose a vicious downpour of rain.

“May I ask what exactly happened to you?”

Your gaze flickered to his white platinum hair, which shimmers like violet under the florescent lights. For a moment you’re mesmerized by it, then you look back at his face and wonder why he even cared to ask.

“Why?” You questioned back.

“Well, you’re drinking your liver to death, you look extremely miserable and your eye makeup has wreaked havoc on your face. Plus the dress you’re wearing looks way too elegant for this club.”

You snorted at his words, glancing down at the silver dress you’d purchased for the anniversary dinner you thought you were going to have. “Should I change my outfit then?”

“You could explain the story,” He retorted, resting both hands onto the counter with an expectant look gracing his handsome face.

“Okay. I found my boyfriend of three years fucking his co-worker in our bed. On our anniversary.”

The bartender takes a visible intake of air, eyebrows hitting his hairline in astonishment. “Fuck man. That’s low.”

You rolled your eyes at his statement and turned your gaze to the frosted bottle of Smirnoff behind him. “I know. Can I have another shot now?”

“Absolutely not. Also, why the hell are you here and not ripping his balls off?”

You look back him, startled at his blatant remark.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, any decent person who had just been cheated on should be destroying their ex-partners lives – not drowning themselves in Smirnoff, which is shit vodka by the way.”

You narrow your eyes at him, questioning how his brain cells functioned. “How would you know that? Did somebody cheat on you?”

“Well,” He pauses, crooking his head to the side as a sly smirk tugs at his lips. His platinum locks loosely fall onto his face. “I wouldn’t say I’ve been cheated on. More like, I’m the cheater.”

You slapped him.

The sound echoed throughout the club and a few heads turn in your direction but you didn’t care at all.

“Pigs,” You hissed at him, “You’re all pigs. How the fuck do you think it feels when someone you love treats you like shit!” You hoisted yourself up on trembling legs, blatantly ignoring the fact that they felt like jello and you were horribly unstable in the high heels covering your feet.

“Hey! Hey! Calm down okay; it’s not that deep.” He exclaimed, stretching his arms out to grab yours and keep you from toppling over. Large hands enclosed themselves around your upper arms, warm and firm, not allowing you to go.

“Don’t fucking touch-”

“Don’t hate the player, sweetheart, hate the game.”

You froze, turning into a solid block of ice at the words that easily flow out of his mouth. Your own mouth dropped to the floor in astonishment at his audacity. “How can you say that?” You demanded, looking into his eyes, searching for some form of an answer within those deep waves of chocolate.

All he does is shrug nonchalantly, not effected by your reaction. “I’ve said that too many times now to feel anything.”

It takes you a moment to process what he’d just said, your mind slowed down by the large amounts alcohol you’d taken. And then everything sort of snaps into place.

“Get your fucking hands-”

“You know, instead of hating him, or the game, you could learn how to play it.”

The bastard keeps on shocking you with everything he says.

“And who exactly is going to teach me how to break hearts like glass?”

He shoots you a grin and his eyes obtain a sparkle from seemly out of nowhere. “I could.”

But as he spoke, a surge of blackness blankets your vision, leaving you stranded in a deep abyss and falling. Right into the arms of a complete stranger.

a/n: hello! thank you for reading:) I will be posting the remaining parts of I could teach you soon (since two and three are already done). the soundtrack is currently my favorite song right now! tell me what you think about it :)) - fyra

songs that remind me of you [ao3]

Summary: Vilde and Eva fall in love (with a little help from Isak Valtersen) and it’s all set the the fresh tunes of female Australian musicians!

aka Vilde thinks she has an unrequited crush and and accidentally befriends Isak in the process

Pairing: Eva/Vilde

Chapters: 1/3

Words: 2830

Notes: This is my first attempt at writing actual fanfic but it went well I think!! I love these two with all my heart and we always need more evilde content in the fandom (chapter 2 is already on the way). Massive thanks to @peggimartinelli and @icky-trump for being my betas you are angels <33

“I think that people are just confused because kosegruppa hasn’t been in the revue before, so they don’t really know what to expect, you see.” Vilde’s face glowed as she animatedly explained her newest plan to gain popularity for kosegruppa. She was sitting up at the head of her bed, a notebook full of neat sketches and carefully detailed notes laying in her lap. Eva lay beside her sprawled across the bed on her stomach, engrossed in her phone.

“That’s why we need to spread more information about the group, I think,” Vilde rambled, her voice climbing up in pitch ever so slightly as Eva remained focused on her phone, “Our goal is to spread love and kos to the other revue groups, and they need to know what that looks like so they don’t feel uncomfortable. I was thinking maybe some kosegruppa posters, or we could do an announcement at school. What do you think about that, Eva?”

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

Poe with 37, 40, 92, and 93 please

37: “ Dance with me! ”

40: “ Will you marry me? ”

92: “ Are you drunk? ”

93: “ Are you high? ”


Poe insisted you come with him to the party. He claimed that you “hide in your dark depressing dorm room for too long” and needed some “good ol’ college partying”. You refused, but he kept bothering you about it. You knew that he’d continue to annoy you if you continued to say no. So you agreed. So here you were nursing a bottle of Smirnoff ice being a complete wallflower. The house was starting to get really hot and the music was making your head pound. You wanted to get out of here.

“Y/N! There you are! My besterestest friend!” Poe slurred. 

You held your hands out to balance him, “Are you drunk?”

Poe hiccuped, “Whaaat? Noooo. I’ve only had, uh, this many drinks!” He held up both hands showing ten fingers.

You sighed, “You’re drunk, Poe.”

He waved your comment off, “Nah!” He grabbed your hand and started pulling you towards the crowd of sweaty, dancing people, “Dance with me!”

“Poe, I really don’t-”

“One dance. That’s all. Pleeeaaaase?” Poe held his hands together and gave you his best puppy eyed expression.

You sighed, “Fine.”

“Yaaay!” 

The fast upbeat music faded and turned into a slow love jam. Poe pulled you close and held you by the hips. Your own hands rested on his shoulders. Poe was just staring at you. You looked at him curiously, “What?”

“Will you marry me?” 

You chuckled, “Are you high?”

Poe shrugged, “High on love, maybe.”

“Sure you are, buddy.”

“No, it’s true, Y/N. I love you.”

You said nothing back to him and sighed. You hoped that his feelings were true. You just wished it hadn’t come out when Poe was drunk.

FFXV Accent Challenge
Me, myself and I. Redo cuz I was a pusseh.
FFXV Accent Challenge

I deleted this before cuz I was a pusseh, but now I decided to do it again. Because I just had 4 shots of vodka, 2 8oz bottles of Smirnoff and horchata rum. I’m scared of standing up. ANYWAYS!

What is your (nick)name and your URL
Where are you from?
What Nationality are you?
PRONOUNCE THE FOLLOWING WORDS: Noctis Lucis Caelum, Gladiolus Amicitia, Ignis Stupeo Scientia, Prompto Argentum, The Regalia, Eos, Chocobos, Daemons, and Ardyn Izunia
Who are your favorite characters:
Who are your least favorite characters:
What was your favorite dish:
CHOOSE A CHARACTER AND ANSWER: What would they do if they found a lost child?
END AUDIO POST WITH A SIMPLE MESSAGE!

And I’m tagging all of you fuckers, cuz I can.

Jeg elsker deg

This is my first Eddsworld fanfic, so I allow me to apologize in advance if I the characters come out as OOC. Because i got so many positive reviews on fanfic.net i decided to put it here as well. Anyway, enjoy!

Tom x Tord fic

Tom swayed clumsily from side to side, his non-existent eyes blinking to try and fade away his blurry vision. Using his hand, he felt around his desk, as if searching for something. He mumbled incoherent curses under his breath after a while of fumbling around in the dark and failing at finding the object he is looking for.

Eventually his hand manages to wrap around the glass cylinder of a Smirnoff bottle. Lifting up to his mouth he chugged it, nearly downing the entire bottle in one swing. He brought the bottle back down, using his sleeve to wipe the remains left around his lips. He burped and groaned, feeling stuffed with the holy alcohol.

It’s been three months since him, Matt and Edd moved to their new apartment, and things have been going on as usual. Most of the time anyway. Ever since Tord’s betrayal, with the giant robot and all, Tom has been getting a little restless. And it annoyed him beyond belief because he couldn’t, for the life of him, figure out why.

If he had to guess is because of the fair chance that Tord could come back. Matt and Edd are worried about this chance being genuine, but Tom knew better. And if the red commie actually dared to show his ugly face near them again, he’ll handle it. Just like last time; Tom thought to himself, feeling smug.

Tom was interrupted from his thoughts when he hears the doorbell ring. He groans in annoyance. He really doesn’t want to leave the comfort of his armchair, but he sighs and gets up anyways. He clumsily makes his way over to the front door, drunk out of his mind, and barely comprehendible. He leans against one of the walls for support, belching, and shakes the doorknob, trying to open it.

After several, drunkenly attempts, he opens the door. In front of him stands a man, he can’t see him very well with his blurry vision. He only makes out a blue outfit, messy brown hair and a cigar poking out of his mouth. Tom is not sure if it’s his drunk mind playing tricks on him, but is the guy wearing an eyepatch?

“Letter for you, sir!” The man announced. He reached out, presenting a letter towards Tom.

Tom slowly blinked, not comprehending what was currently going on at first. He simply glanced down at the letter and back up at the man’s face. His brain eventually processed the information, and Tom sluggish stretched his arm forward to take the letter from him. Without further word, just a few gibberish grumbles under Tom’s breath, he turned around and slammed the door.

Tom made his way back to his cherished armchair and fell back in his seat with a sigh of content. He looked over the letter more closely, his vision smudging the tiny letters containing the address on it. His eyes finally focused, and he could make out a red wax stamp with a strange symbol on it. He couldn’t exactly make it out, but it looked strangely familiar.

He rips the letter open and takes out the content inside. A dumb piece of paper. Tom groaned in disappointment. He was hoping it was candy. Tom was almost inclined to crumple up the paper in a ball and toss it in the trash, and he was about to do so when his curiosity peaked. Who would send him a letter? In 2016? He didn’t even know letters still existed! Who uses mail in 2016?

His curiosity got the best of him and he turned over the letter and read the contents inside. Although, it was major struggle for him and his drunk state. He could barely make out the tiny letters.

Hello Thomas

You were probably not expecting it, especially considering our rivalry, but I thought you should know; after all, I don’t even know myself if we’ll ever see each other again, although I sincerely hope so.

Remember the good old days? Where we would simply hate each other? Bickering and name calling like a couple of little kids? I guess over time our hatred for each other evolved into something more than intended to.

Anyways, how you doing? Not that I care. What about Matt and Edd? How are they handling my inevitable betrayal? You and I both knew all along it was going to happen. That’s what intrigued me most about you Tom. You could read me. You always suspected me of something, thought you weren’t exactly sure what, I guess you finally got your answer in the end. But I was always curious as to why you never mentioned your doubts about me to the others. Any particular reason?

As of me, things have been going… I would say fine just to shove it in your face and fell smug about it, but that would be a complete lie. Thanks to our… little rivalry; I had a complete make-over. So I suppose my left side is my better side from now on. Quite a shame really, I liked my right side the best. And normally it would be so easy to just dump all the blame on you for what happened to me, but I am very well aware of my own actions and it was my carelessness that led you to pierce a harpoon through my robot. That doesn’t mean I forgive you, if anything that gives me more reason to go after you for revenge, but I know it’s not “entirely” your fault.

You think you’re so clever, don’t you Tom? You probably brag about your “victory” against me so openly to the others. Well, I sort of admire that about you. You are the perfect nemesis, and I couldn’t ask for a better one indeed. But I guarantee you that the next time we meet, and there WILL be a next time, you may not be as fortunate.

Enjoy the calm before the storm while it lasts, Tom. I need some time to recover handle some things and then I’ll extract my revenge upon you. Jeg elsker deg, Tom. Until we meet again, old friend. Ha det!

Signed: Tord.

Tom read the letter multiple times, trying to process the information contained. Suddenly, in a fraction of a moment of clarity his mind cleared up just enough for him to finally understand. Tom narrowed his eyes down at the letter in pure hatred. Tord’s betrayal shook Edd and Matt hard, but Tom knew from the start he was bad news. The two of them never seen each other eye to eye. Probably because Tom doesn’t actually have any eyes, but that’s beside the point.

So, the commie bastard finally decided to come into contact with them; correction, him. Which is plenty weird in of itself. Think he can boast and brag about taking him down. Tom laughed at the silliness of it all. Well, if Tord thinks he can intimidate him with this petty attempt of a threat, he had another thing coming for him.

Tom fumbled around his desk using his hands. He grabbed a clean sheet of paper and a pen. He giggled, as if in insane delight. He looked down at the paper and began to write down furiously. He stopped for a moment in mid-writing to take another swig of his Smirnoff, accidentally spilling over the paper and smudging some of the words. Tom groaned in annoyance but shrugged the incident off, continuing to write down in the now wet piece of paper.

He stopped again, contemplating what else to write. He bit down the end of the pen deep in thought. After a little while of thinking Tom went back on writing. As he was doing so, Tom would occasionally glance back at Tord’s letter. Upon closer inspection he noticed the foreign sentence neatly written near the end. Jeg elsker deg. What does it even mean? His drunken mind thought.

Obviously it was something in the commie’s native language, Norwegian, but despite knowing Tord for years Tom knows not a single thing of Norwegian. Tom knew he could easily just google it and find out the meaning of the sentence, but his drunk state of mind doesn’t allow him to think clearly. Instead, Tom deduced the meaning behind it by analyzing the letter once again. Knowing Tord himself it probably means screw you, or something along these lines. Tom thought. Well, right back at yah buddy.

Tom laughed as he finished writing the letter down. He sealed it shut inside the envelope and went off to post and mail back. He slipped the envelope inside his mail box with a wide sloppy grin. Tom takes another swig of Smirnoff, emptying the bottle. As he headed back home he laughed out loud. If only he could film the bastard’s reaction once he read his letter. Tom felt proud of himself at that moment. That will show him!


Tord is sitting back behind his desk, lounging in his big comfortable chair. He was managing some paper work involving his scientific research, the giant robot, his soldier’s files amongst other boring stuff. He sighed in boredom. If there is one thing he had to complain about being the leader of an evil organization is all of the paper work he had to do. On the bright side, at least his arm doesn’t hurt as much from writing all the time. Tord chuckled with dry humor, glancing at his new, robotic arm. Regards from his last encounter with Tom.

Speaking of the eyeless jackass, Tord couldn’t help but wonder how he reacted to his letter. He didn’t know the why, but in the morning he found himself missing the presence of the rude, blue hoodie man. So to try and get rid of that feeling he wrote him a letter and requested for Paul, one of his soldiers, to deliver it for him. Now, instead of turning his attention back to his work, like he should, Tord is feeling rather antsy. He knows better than to get his hopes up. In fact, Tord wouldn’t be surprised at all if Tom immediately tossed his letter into the garbage after ripping it in tiny little pieces.

A knock on his door interrupted his thoughts. “Come in.” Tord commanded, looking up from his paper work to glance at the door expectantly.

Paul entered the room at his leader’s permission. He saluted him and Tord walked up to him. “At ease, soldier.” He said, allowing Paul to stop the motion. “Mission report.” He ordered, wanting to get right down to business, so that the anxious feeling in the pit of his stomach can finally fade away.

“Sir, the mission went along exactly as planned, sir!” Paul reported, not making direct eye contact with the leader. After the incident with the giant robot, none of the soldiers dare to look at their leader straight in his eyes. Or rather… eye.

“And?” Tord pressed forward after a moment’s of silence, yearning to know more details.

“Sir, the letter was delivered to subject Tom as you have ordered, sir!” Paul went on. “I waited to see his next course of action. It seems he wrote a return letter addressed to you, sir!”

Tord barely caught what Paul just said and was about to ask him to repeat himself when Paul stretched his arms forward, displaying the letter. Almost hesitant, Tord gulped and took the letter from him, glancing at it curiously. “Well done, soldier.” He praised. “You’re dismissed.”

Paul nodded and saluted once more before leaving the room. Tord turned around to sit back behind his desk, his eye wide in surprise. Out of all the scenarios he had imagined would happen, Tord thought a reply was the least probable one. But, here it is.

Sitting back in his chair Tord analyzed the envelope. It wasn’t properly sealed and it was rather crunched up. Tord moved to open it and take out the letter from inside but his hand stopped. He hesitated. Tord didn’t want to admit it, but he was afraid at what might be written. Pathetic. Here he is, the almighty red leader, commander of an entire organization, soon leader of the whole world, and he is afraid of facing the reply letter from an alcoholic lunatic.

Tord mentally face palmed at the scenario and sighed. He quickly decided to get it over and done with as soon as possible and just ripped out the letter from inside. Bringing it to his face so he may look at it closer, he immediately detected the stench of alcohol in the letter, and a huge splash mark. The letters were all smudged, messy and incoherent. Tord chuckled. Same old Thomas. No doubt he was completely wasted while writing this.

The words are all smudged and misspelled. Tord grit his teeth in frustration as he read and re-read the letter over and over, trying to comprehend it. Eventually he managed to make it out. Of course he had to correct the various grammar errors, but he did it.

Dear commie

You sure do have a lot of guts by writing to me with this pathetic threat after I beat you and your stupid giant robot. You think you can scare us with some petty threats? If that’s the case, I only have one thing to say in return to you: JEG ELSKER DEG TORD!

You think you’re so cool with your smooth, fancy shiny hair of yours? You guessed wrong! You’re not cool, you’re handsome! And those gray eyes of yours? Well, they suck. I can’t stop looking at them and it makes me annoyed. I always hated the color red, but for some reason I think it looks good on you!

Whatever menacing plan you got in store for us, BRING IT ON! I can’t wait to see you again so I can brag about how much better we are off without you, despite the fact that I resorted to heavy drinking again since you’ve been gone. Until next time, commie!

Signed: Your good old nemesis, Thomas!

PS: I’ll be waiting for you.

Tord was left speechless, and he felt a light tinge of pink flourishing upon his cheeks as he read and re-read the letter multiple times. But he was not imagining it, or misunderstood it in anyway. This is all written down by Tom’s own hand. Of course, Tord immediately concluded this is all a result of Tom’s wasted mind. But he couldn’t help but secretly wish that at least a small portion of these words could possibly be true.

What’s even more interesting is that Tom actually managed to copy (albeit rather clumsily) one of the sentences he used in his own letter. The Norwegian sentence he used: Jeg elsker deg. Tord couldn’t help the smile that stretched across his face as he re-read that passage in the letter. If he had to guess, Tom probably thought the phrase meant something insulting. Tord chuckled. If only he had search on google for the meaning behind it.

In actuality, the phrase in his own letter was a dumb decision. Tord wasn’t even sure why he wrote it. He wants to slap himself for his carelessness. He’s been feeling rather strange since the incident with the robot. Tord would often find himself thinking of Tom. At first, he thought it was out of pure hatred for the Jehovah’s Witness; for standing on his way, foiling his plans, destroying the robot and scarring half of his face permanently. But the more he thought about Tom, the more the feeling inside his stomach grew. He didn’t know for certain if it was indeed attraction he felt for Tom, but Tord doesn’t know how else to put it. He still hates him after all; a part of him does anyway. So he thought that perhaps to alleviate the feeling he would admit it to Tom. Of course, he would write in his native language so Tom wouldn’t know what it meant right away, but it was still a big risk considering he could’ve just searched the meaning on the internet. But thankfully, luck is on his side and Tom did not suspect a thing.

Tord looked over the letter once more with a small smile. He knows Tom was not in his right state of mind when writing this, but Tord neatly folded the messy letter and tucked in the chest pocket of his blue uniform regardless of that fact.

As he went back to his paper work, feeling much better now, he remembered a program he saw a little while. A documentary about alcohol and its effects. The drunken letter reminded Tord of the program, and he suddenly remembered one of the lines said by the narrator: “A drunk mind speaks a sober heart.” Tord paused in his work, contemplating the phrase tossed in his sub-consciousness. He glanced down at the pocket where the letter was stored with curiosity. Could it be…?

“I Love You” - Jay Park

Originally posted by jayfatuasian

When Jay promised you a date night, he did not expect he would end up having to cancel last minute. In his defense, he is the CEO of his company and that title comes with so much responsibility, including picking up the paperwork of his co-CEO due tomorrow because he was out sick.

“I’m really sorry babe. I thought I would get all of this finished but it honestly,” Jay paused, looking at the mountain of paper he still has to go over. “It looks like I’m going to be here a bit longer.”

You sighed on the other end of the line, you were looking forward to date night. It’s been a while since the two of you had time alone. For Jay it was the next artist, next song, music video and promotions. You on the other hand was busy with paperwork, ever since you moved to your own practice there were more paperwork than patients and it did nothing to lessen the stress.

“It’s fine,” you say, trying to brush it off, putting on a tone that you hoped would instill assurance knowing Jay would feel so guilty about this. “Rain check?”

Keep reading

okay but listen davekat humanstuck popstar AU. Dave is like a kesha-level troll in that a lot of his music is glitzy and ironic but he’s actually super talented, cares a lot about his fans, and dresses with like g-dragon level absurdity, with a lot of gender-fuckery and biting social commentary if you’re listening close enough. kanaya is one of his designers, and she hits up karkat to be her date to a red carpet event because rose is busy, and karkat is some little hipster nerd who only listens to like the national and bon iver, so he has never heard any of dave’s music or seen his videos. 

there’s an afterparty in some penthouse, and karkat hates everybody there and hates the fancy liquor, so he just goes out onto balcony to get some air, and finds this blond dude with smudged eyeliner fucking around on his phone and drinking Smirnoff out of the bottle all by himself all “its a clusterfuck in there shit gives me anxiety” and karkat just chills with this deadpan weirdo for hours not knowing he’s the dude the party is for 

Tom trudges back into his and Thompson’s home and makes a beeline for the liquor cabinet. He doesn’t get it, what was he supposed to say to Drinks? He doesn’t understand how people work! He didn’t mean to hurt him! He growls in frustration, punching the wall next to the cabinet.

He reaches for smirnoff and changes his mind last second, grabbing a bottle of moonshine instead. He might not understand but the booze does. 

He walks to his bedroom with the moonshine and a bottle of smirnoff. Maybe he should take a page out of Drinks’ book for a bit and just…

forget.

Oh, butter biscuits.

Eddsworld | TomTord

Summary: In which Tom walks in on Tord in the shower and he’s completely unfazed.

Notes: just one of those “one of them walks in on the other in the shower AU.”

Tom knew he wasn’t that good of a person. He doesn’t go to church on Sundays, sniff flowers, pet kittens, or kiss babies. Yup, he wasn’t good, but he sure as hell wasn’t bad either. And as far he knows, only bad people get bad karma. So why, why, he asked himself for the hundredth time, on earth was he doing in Matt’s dorm looking for a goddamn bracelet.

“Oh please Tom?” He said in a mocking tone. “It was a special bracelet that Matt made for me!” He imitated Edd’s voice while rolling his eyes and making faces. He slammed another desk drawer shut, seeing that it’s filled with nothing but condoms. “Honestly-”

He knew he brought this upon himself, and that he only had himself to blame, but god, he can’t help but feel a little annoyed at Edd and Matt for making him do this.

Like it wasn’t enough he had to deal with the PDA those two keep showing.  Like it wasn’t enough they kept him wide awake at three in the morning because of the sounds they were both making that he never ever wants to hear again. Like it wasn’t enough he was dragged to every single one of their dates, even though he said no like a million times. No, apparently it’s not, because the two of them have mastered the art of pouting, puppy dog eyes, and bribery. How could he say no to a bottle of Smirnoff and a box of pizza all to himself, right?

“I swear to God, if they make me do shit like this again, I am definitely switching dorms with that Mark guy.” He scowls at an ashtray on a desk at the far end.  He was just about to rummage through the dirty hamper in the corner when he suddenly heard the unmistakable sound of running water hitting ceramic tiles.

He froze on the spot, and swore that he felt his heart stop. He turned to the bathroom door, and stared for five, still seconds, before his train of thought went working again.

Nobody could be here, he thought with a smug grin. Matt said so himself. His roommates were out. Paul was out with Patryk, Jon was visiting his parents, and that devil in a red hoodie- what was his name? Turd? No, it was Tord -always went for a nightly jog at around eight p.m. and it was now eight o’ ten.

The only way he knows this is because he passes by Tom whenever he walked home sloppy drunk from the bar down town and offer him a smirk and a snarky remark. And on special days, like when he would be in a good mood, he would even pester Tom about how he should join him in his night jog instead of drowning in alcohol, and which Tom would always respond with: “Fuck off.” earning a low laugh from Tord every single time.

So nobody could be in the shower, right? It just means that Matt left it running, and by extension, that means he has to turn it off. It’s the least he could do for the guy who put him in this situation.

He straightens himself, head high and shoulders back, and stomps right over to the bathroom door and swings it wide open. “Seriously, how careless can you ge-”

“hva i helvete?!”

Oh, butter biscuits.

He blinks three times and lets his jaw hang low before his brain registers what happened and who he just walked in on taking a shower and ends up stuttering. “I- what’re you- why were you- I- you!

When Tom had swung the door open, Tord jumped- like actually jumped- in shock and ended up slipping on the wet bathroom floor on his, mind you, very naked ass.

And while a part of Tom was nagging him about how he shouldn’t stare, a part of him was busy doing exactly just that. From the beads of water slowly making their way down his toned abs, down to the light trail of hair, to very pronounced ‘v’ of his hipbones, up to his toned chest and prominent collar bones-which, a part of Tom thinks he can practically live in because wow -and broad shoulders. Light brown hair that was normally styled up,  droops down to the back of his ears and just a little above his sharp jawline and-

Not now, gay thoughts.

Tord’s intense gaze was enough to snap Tom back to his senses, making him stumble back and grab the towel hanging on the railing to his left. He tosses to it Tord, shielding his eyes right after.

“I’m so sorry I- I didn’t- I thought- oh God-” Tom continues to stutter as Tord got back up on his feet, not taking his eyes off the smaller man, and he doesn’t even wrap the towel around his waist. He just just holds it in front of himself, barely covering his body parts from the waist down.

“Don’t you know it’s rude to stare?” Tord says all too cockily. “I always knew were in to me.”

“I wasn’t staring,” Tom states, meeting Tord’s eyes meekly, making the blush in his cheeks grow redder. The taller man smirks, and at that point Tom was just praying for the ground to swallow him whole. He did have to admit, the temptation to look down there, and the rest of his body, was so damn hard to resist.

“Okay then,” Tord smirks, making Tom raise an eyebrow. “if you weren’t staring before, how about now?” He winks, waits a few seconds until Tom had that confused look on his face, and then drops the towel. It was enough to send Tom running off with his face flushed red and his heart pounding in his ears. “I’m buying you a drink tomorrow, Tom!” Tord laughs as Tom stumbles out of their dorm.

He couldn’t help but smile at the fact that Tord knew his name despite the fact that he hasn’t properly introduced himself yet, which means that maybe- just maybe -he was into him too, even just a little. He walks back to his room with a smile on his face as he was greeted by Edd.

“So did you find the bracelet?”

Oh, butter biscuits.

anonymous asked:

MATT PLEASE WE CANT LOOSE YOU NOW

Matt went into the bathroom to take out a full bottle of Smirnoff. Ha, y'all thought. But still, he went to his bed, opened the bottle. And started to drink