so's your mum

How Dan and Phil probably broke up #25
  • Dan: *wins another Dan vs. Phil*
  • Phil: all or nothing
Happier - Jughead Jones

Request: Hi there! I’ve been obsessed with Happier by Ed Sheeran lately. I was wondering if maybe you could do one where Jughead and the Reader broke up and Betty and Jug are together and maybe the readers a singer and she sings the song at a show or something? Thank youuu 💕💕 You writing is amazing btw

@satanwithstardust also wrote a fic based on this song, you should go and read it because she’s bae kthxbye :3 oh and uhh this goes out to… my mother! @betty-coopers-number-one-stan 

Warnings: saddish :c

Hope this was okay, and thank you so much!

Words: 2,302

It had been a month and you still found yourself huddled up in your duvet, trying to keep your mind off of recent events by listening to Hamilton and Divide on repeat. Said recent events included a certain boy who’s name used to make your cheeks heat up and your smile bloom wide. 

Currently, the name sent a spear of repentance, grief and anguish through you, practically embedding itself in your heart so you could hear it tear in two.

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Side Stage

Requested by: @hantu369mc
(Here are the specifics)

Pairing: Reader x Peter Parker
Word Count: 1.2K
Warnings: Fluff

A/N: Sorry I didn’t get to include any angst!

Your fingers impatiently tap against your school desk, the screen on your laptop hadn’t changed in 30 minutes, and you were starting to panic. You can feel Peter’s eyes on you, but you don’t want to look away from your screen - not even for a second - in fear that it would load and you’d lose your chance.

“How’s it looking, babe?” Peter whispers in your ear, making you jump a little,

“I don’t know,” you sigh out, making sure to keep your voice low so that your teacher at the front of the classroom can’t hear, “I’ve been stuck in this stupid green room loading screen for forever,”

“You’ll get through,” Peter tries to reassure you, “Ticket’s don’t go on sale for another 5 minutes anyway,”

You nod, but you don’t really believe him. You’d tried this before, a week ago, and you failed to get tickets then too. This was shaping up to be the same.

When you’d found out that your favourite band was touring, you exploded with excitement. You’d been waiting years for them to finally announce a tour, and the New York date happened to be the day before your birthday. You’d told yourself it was fate; but now it wasn’t looking that way.

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Listen I get really pissed about this whole hiding in your room to eat as quickly as possible when you’re on your period during Ramadan, in your own home so that the men in your family don’t see like????

Chapter 201 translation

Link to chapter here

HT: Listen well, tomorrow (Saturday), you have to wear that ear stud. 

HT: After that, come find me.

GS: …

GS: Why should I listen to you! Wearing that disgust me to death! Get lost! Don’t press me down! 

HT: If you shout so loudly your Mum will hear.

Mum: *knock* *knock* 

GS & HT: !!

GS (kicks He Tian off his bed): AH! WA AH—–

(Mum opens door)

GS: Mum. 

HT: Hi Auntie.

Mum: ??

Mum: Time… Time to eat. 


JY: (humming)

JY (in his imagination): Zhan xixi

JY: Fuck… I feel weird down there…

JY: (reaches into his pants)

JY: Ah!!

JY: (pulls out a strand of hair)

JY (puts the strand of hair into his book): So it was this strand of hair making me feel weird… Made me think too much…

Hidden Behind a Book - Harry Styles Imagine

Originally posted by thestylesgifs

He told himself he was never a reader, he knew that he never was, he never showed interest in literature, he loved music, but books and novels were never his cup of tea. He read the odd one once in awhile, but it was never the first thing on his mind, he had other things that he finds much more interesting, like girls. Harry Edward Styles, was known around the world as a womanizer, but he really wasn’t, he tried his best to show that he is not, he is just not lucky with his love life, you could say. But he was kind at heart, he loved his family and would do anything for them, therefore when his mum asked him to bring back a book for her when he was out that morning, he could not say, no.

He was in no rush that day, had a meeting later on, but it was not his first thing to do, since it was hours away, therefore he did what his mother told him, bring back a book. He went out that morning, tried his best to keep busy around the streets of London, took pictures with fans and enjoyed the odd conversations, but he just wanted a distraction, he was never, not busy, always doing something. He walked around the streets, popping into every other shop, just for fun, he bought small things, but nothing major, he just wanted to keep busy on the early, Monday morning.

It was half an hour later when he finally decided he was bored, he was not in the mood to shop or to doing anything really, therefore he took the book back. He walked up the narrow streets to a small bookstore that laid between two clothes boutiques, it was small barely there, almost squished, he was surprised that his mum did not buy for the bigger stores, the more well-known ones, he almost felt like it was not true, that he misread the address on the receipt, he read the same fine-line black ink in small letters several times in his mind, and it was true, he was at the correct street.

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for @capseycartwright because she did her revision and i promised her tommy and robert interactions :)

Aaron’s waiting for Robert in the pub, nursing a beer as his mum serves a party of four giggling women. There’s a headache blossoming in the back of Aaron’s head, but he’s able to ignore it, confident that Robert will arrive soon. He’ll have a smug smile from a deal well done, no doubt, but more importantly, he’ll have a key to their house. Aaron’s sure he picked his up that morning, but apparently not. 

Scowling into his beer, Aaron huffs out a sigh. 

“Alright love?” Aaron’s mum asks, raising her eyebrow. 

“Fine,” Aaron mutters. 

His mum snorts, pats his hand, but is distracted by the sound of the door opening. Aaron looks back over his shoulder, sees a guy in his late forties at least, standing awkwardly in the doorway. He’s wearing a simple sweater and jeans, light, like he wasn’t expecting the wind. Weird, considering this is Yorkshire. 

“What can I do you for, love?” Aaron’s mum asks, leaning against the bar. 

The guy approaches the bar, stands next to Aaron. “I’m looking for someone.”

The guy’s accent is more Scottish than Yorkshire, and there’s a hint of something else in there that Aaron can’t place.

“Lot of people in ‘ere,” Chas says, gesturing at the punters. 

The guy makes a face, and Aaron’s hackles rise. He keeps his mouth shut; he’s getting better at not letting his anger run wild. “I don’t even know if he lives here anymore, but I thought it was worth a try. He’s a Sugden.”

Chas flicks her gaze to Aaron and Aaron’s grip tightens on his glass. “Andy? Jack?”

There’s a flicker of recognition on the guy’s face at Jack’s name, but he shakes his head. 

Aaron knows, even before the guy says, “Robert.”

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lights flashing [M] // JIMIN

summary - Your parents’ beach house always sparked the right kind of imagination in your mind - but what happens when a certain boy with a camera in hand becomes your main focus instead?
word count - 3.4k

genre - fluff, (implied?) smut
pairing - Photographer!Jimin x Poet!Reader
warnings - mature language, smut

A/N - okay, i’m so nervous to post this idek why ;; it’s my first time writing actual smut and i’m not sure if it even classifies as smut and if i did a great job on this overall. feedback is very much appreciated as always

Originally posted by kpopidolaegyooo

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when ur about five seconds away from askin ur fav @gin-draws to draw ur fave gal lily evans in red gingham and she dOES IT

this hc is the best thing to happen to anyone ever i mean. five year old lily evans in pigtails and red gingham overalls. 15 year old lily evans with red gingham bedsheets. 19 year old lily evans in a red gingham shirt and flared jeans

art by @gin-draws

We’ll Figure It Out (Jughead x reader)

-Summary: The reader finds out she is pregnant with her boyfriend Jughead’s baby, and he’s not very accepting of it at first, and it causes some problems.

-Jughead Jones x Reader

-Request? Yep.

-Word Count: 1829

-Warnings: angst, teenage pregnancy, some swearing, mentions of bullying (I guess?)

-A/N: Enjoy! Btw guys, just letting you know I don’t know what the legal age for sex is in America, but it’s 16 here in Australia, in Queensland, so sorry if you get confused!

-Tags: @multiversegalaxygirl@xbobaaa , @flowercrown-bucky , @take-me-on-a-magic-unicorn,

You decided to stay home from school today; after throwing up the second you woke up, you thought it best. Confusion filled your brain when it happened, you didn’t know how you got so sick suddenly, especially since you had felt fine the night before. You had back tracked to everything you ate and couldn’t remember eating anything bad, and none of your friends, Betty, Veronica, Archie and Kevin were sick, and neither was your boyfriend, Jughead. Shit, you forgot to tell Jughead you weren’t going to school. He’ll be worried. You quickly picked up your phone and texted him, telling him why you were absent.

You and Jughead had been dating for about 8 months now, and he was everything to you. He was the best boyfriend you had ever had, and you planned on keeping him for a very long time. It was just so easy with you two, you both supported each other and made each other happy. You both loved each other immensely. Not to mention, the sex was pretty damn good too. It didn’t happen often, both of you not really sexual people, but when it did happen, my god was it amazing. Last time was probably around two weeks ago.

This thought got you thinking, could the throwing up be related to that? What if it’s morning sickness? You quickly opened up your period diary app on your phone, to see when you were due, because you knew that would be the main sign. When you saw that you were in fact one week late, your stomach dropped. What if you were pregnant? With Jugheads baby. At sixteen. You started panicking, you needed to get your hands on some pregnancy tests to confirm, asap.

You jumped when you heard a knock on your window, and when you saw it was Jughead, you smiled. You slowly got up, careful not to upset your stomach even further. You opened the window and he climbed through.

“Shouldn’t you be at school?” You questioned, eyebrow raised.

Jughead shook his head, “Not when my beautiful girlfriend is at home sick, and needing her boyfriend to love and care for her,” he said cheekily.

You blushed at his words, rolling your eyes at him, “I’m fine, just got a bit sick is all,” you said nonchalantly, laying back down on your bed.

Jughead picked up on your tone, dumping his bag on your floor and taking his shoes off, laying down next to you, “Is everything alright?”

You panicked, but then realised that nothing was confirmed yet so you just brushed it off, “Apart from throwing up my guts, everything’s fine.”

He didn’t look convinced, but he seemed to let it slide and smiled, brushing your hair out of your face.

It felt like you had been sitting there staring at it forever, trying not to cry. It felt like your word had been turned upside down. The only positive you could find in this whole situation was staring back at you on the three pregnancy tests you held. You knew this would change your life forever, no matter what you did with this information; it would always be a milestone in your life. You were sixteen for god’s sake, and so was Jughead. The first thing that you thought when you saw the three plus signs was ‘Holy shit what am I gonna tell Jughead?’

He’s homeless, and can barely provide for himself, it’s lucky that he’s even living with Archie. Your family was alright with money but you didn’t know if they could support one more, your parents only had average day jobs, nothing spectacular but it was enough to only provide for the three of you. And what about school? How were you going to graduate? You’ll be the laughing stock of the high school, the ‘whore’ the ‘slut’ the ‘idiot’.

You were so confused about how this happened. You swore you wore protection with Juggie that night, you hadn’t felt it break but it was a possibility. You were on birth control but you couldn’t remember if you had taken it that day. You put your head in your hands, how could you have let this happen? Were you going to keep it? You didn’t know. Would it have a good life? Would Jughead want it?

You decided that you have to tell Jughead, there was no way you could keep it from him. So you grabbed the three pregnancy tests, hid them under your shirt and quickly snuck into your room. It was 12am, you had to take the tests when no-one was awake so you wouldn’t get caught by your mum or dad or anything. You threw them under your pillow, and grabbed your phone, dialling Jugheads number.

It took a couple of rings before he answered with a groggy voice, “Y/N? Are you alright? Why are you calling so late?”

You swallowed the lump in your throat, “I’m fine,” you lied, “Sorry to wake you, I need you to come over now, it’s important.”

Jughead sounded more awake now, and there was rustling on the line, “Yeah, of course, are you sure you’re okay?”

You didn’t answer his question, “I’ll explain more when you’re here, see you soon.” And you hung up.

You sat on the edge of your bed, going over what you could possibly say to him, how you could possibly explain this situation to him without him getting mad. Soon enough, there was a knock at your window. You took a deep breath and walked over to it, letting him in.

As soon as he was in he hugged you, “Are you okay? What wrong? You don’t usually call this late unless somethings really wrong,” he pulled back, studying your features and his hands resting on your arms.  

You looked over his worried demeanour, appreciative of how much he cares about you, but all that changed when you spoke your next words.

“Jughead, I-I’m pregnant.”

His face immediately turned cold, his hands slid off your arms, back next to his sides. He looked like he was processing what you just said, trying to find some possibility that what you just said wasn’t true.

He shook his head, “We used protection and you’re on birth control, it’s not possible.”

You empathised with him, “I know it’s hard to believe Juggie, I just, that day I was sick… it was morning sickness. I’m a week late for my period and I’ve got three positive pregnancy tests.”

He shook his head and closed his eyes, pacing the room, in denial, “No, no, where are they? Prove it.”

You were kind of offended that he didn’t believe you, but you walked over to your bed and pulled out the pregnancy tests from under your pillow, passing them to his held out hand.

He looked at them with a blank expression. Like he couldn’t believe what he was seeing, like he didn’t want to believe. Then, he threw them against the wall.

You panicked, worried your parents might wake up, “Shhhhh! Jughead! My parents are asleep!” You whisper-yelled.

He whisper-yelled back, “Then don’t fucking call me at 12am in the morning, telling me I’m a goddamn father of a kid you know I damn well can’t provide for! This has just fucked my life over Y/N! Changed everything!” He shook his head again, rubbing his hands over his face, then he turned back and started towards the window, about to leave, “Don’t talk to me until I’m ready, I need to think about this, I can’t deal with this right now,” and he left.

You tried to blink the tears away, but they ended up just running down your face. You couldn’t believe what had just happened. You understood about what a shock it was, even worse than him, but he didn’t have to act like that, towards you, his girlfriend. You shook your head, getting up and picking up the scattered pregnancy tests, sniffling, and throwing them in the bin next to your desk, making sure to cover it with some paper so your mum wouldn’t walk in and accidentally see them. You dragged yourself into bed, overwhelmed with the stress and anxiety of what just happened. You shut your eyes, trying your best to fall asleep.

It was a couple of days later, and Jughead hasn’t talked to you yet. You were sick with worry and you were constantly looking at your phone just hoping that a text would come from him asking to talk. Your group of friends, Betty, Veronica, Archie and Kevin had definitely picked up on the dynamic shift in your relationship. They had all asked you if you were okay and you just replied with “We’re fine, don’t worry,” even though you knew none of them believed you. Archie would have noticed Jugheads more silent mood for sure, but knew he wouldn’t say a word to anyone despite it.

You were sitting at a booth at Pop’s diner when a text finally arrived.

We need to talk, meet at the park near Pop’s?

You quickly typed a reply, I’ll be there in 5.

It was dark out, but that means there would be no one around to listen in to your conversation. You got up, leaving some money on the table to pay for the food you ate, and left for the park that was close by.

When you arrived, you quickly spotted the familiar grey crown beanie sitting on a bench. You walked over and sat down next to the raven haired boy. It was silent for a while, both of you just sitting, not quite sure where to start.

But then Jughead spoke up, “I just want to start by saying I’m sorry for how I reacted, I’m sure you can understand that I was a bit shocked, and a bit fucking terrified if I’m being honest,” he said with his usual sarcastic tone, “I should’ve been more supportive, and I promise I will be. If you decide to keep the child of course, I understand if you don’t, and I’ll support anything you decide.”

You smiled, and took his hand in yours, rubbing your thumb across the back of his hand, “I understand, and I’m terrified too, I don’t know how this will pan out. But, I’ve thought about it and I want to keep it, I just want to make sure it’s the better decision, and I need you here to help me figure that out, I don’t know how my parents will react, or how we’re going to raise it in our conditions, but as long as I have you with me, I’ll be okay.”

He place his hand on your cheek and pulled you in, kissing you softly. After pulling away, he said, “I’ll always be with you, and I love you. We can go over everything and decide what’s best if you’re still not sure. We’ll figure it out.”

The Kitchens

part v

It appeared to be all consuming, the act of kissing someone. Sirius was slightly surprised by this. He’d kissed loads of girls before, in fact he’d done quite a bit more than simply kiss them. But he questioned it now… had he kissed them? He didn’t think so, not really.

It had never been like this before.

It had never been that each and ever act or thought his body and mind performed somehow stemmed back to the kiss, to Remus. It hadn’t even been particularly long. It had been rushed, lost in the heat of the moment. Wonderful, but nothing monumental as far as kissing goes. Sirius had led him to bed afterwards and forced himself to walk away. He’d apologized afterwards and taken it back. As far as kissing goes, it honestly should be considered rather awful. But it wasn’t.

Sirius felt slightly sick with nerves, standing there surrounded by the whirling action of of the First Bloom Ball preparations. Stray petals scattered themselves on the floors of the long hallways, having fallen off of the millions of bouquets that were being transported into every part of the castle imaginable. Noble and servant girls alike stood around in groups, chattering and working excitedly, hoping desperately that they would receive a bloom from whichever boy it was they dreamt about. It was rumored that the one who gave you the bloom was the one who remained yours forever. Sirius allowed himself a small smile at this. The idea had never appealed to him until now. Then again, the idea had never applied to him either. It still didn’t but he allowed the smile all the same.

Sirius felt the eyes of many on him as he strode about the room. He knew it was because of the party, but he couldn’t help but notice the eyes lingering on his head more than his face, or, more specifically, his crown. He didn’t make a habit of wearing it about but it was one of those days that his mother had insisted. She did that occasionally. He liked it fine and all. It sat comfortably, if not a bit heavily, but he could definitely do without the attention—something he knew his mother valued above all else. He only made the mistake of making eye contact twice before the barely repressed squeals that followed taught him to keep his eyes pleasantly aloof from any one person, discreetly searching for the dark mass of hair that was James. He finally spotted it peaking out from behind a particularly large bouquet. He pulled on his jacket some, straightening it, before all but speed walking over to him, waiting by the double doorway then falling into step with his stride.


James’ face appeared between two pink peonies, “S-“ His face straightened, eyes glancing around, “Your Royal Highne-“

“My mum isn’t here. Can you come?”

James heaved out a sigh as he let the vase carefully down on the table, dusting various shades of what looked like pollen from his shirt. Sirius distastefully glanced only briefly at the yellow stains it left behind.

James raised an eyebrow, “I’m thinking you’re forgetting that status of our relationship.”

Sirius blinked, “What?”

James raised both eyebrows now, offering a smile, “Sirius, it isn’t a matter of if I can come. If you want me somewhere, I go.”

Sirius knew this wasn’t meant as a blow. James was probably joking, relieved that he was getting out of work. But it was true. James couldn’t refuse. Sirius thought briefly back to the way Remus had kicked him out that night of the chocolate cake. The heat that was becoming familiar to him very quickly filled his chest at the memory and he motioned his head for James to follow him. He was doing this. He could do this. This was James.

Sirius walked until they were nearly half way across the castle, in the predictably quiet West parlor. He motioned for James to shut the door.

“What’s this about? I can’t be gone for too long. My mum would have my head.”

Sirius could have laughed at his particular choice of words if he hadn’t been so bloody nervous.

“Well, I’m certainly about to tell you something that could cost me mine.”

James froze half way between standing and sitting on the couch. He rose again, “Come again?”

Sirius sighed and pushed on his shoulders until he plopped down on the cushions, then sat on the lean wooden table across from him. He took a shaky breath, lacing his fingers together across his knees. He went to open his mouth, but suddenly found that his jaw wouldn’t cooperate.

James spluttered, “Mate, you can’t lead with a phrase like that then sit on it.” He waited a moment more then shoved Sirius’ shoulder, “Come on.”

“I kissed someone.”

James blinked, mouth falling open in surprise. Sirius suddenly wished there was a fire crackling, or a rainstorm outside, anything to fill the silence.

“Oh.” James shook his head a little then laughed, “Well, what’s so bad about that? Your mum doesn’t approve of her?”

Sirius looked at him.

The realization spread quickly over James face and he nodded again, “Oh… Oh. Does- Does she know?”

“No one knows.” Sirius said quickly, “You know, I know, and- and… she knows.” Sirius swallowed.

Sirius felt like he was swallowing over his heart. He surprised himself with just how desperate he was to shout that it wasn’t a she, and that it hadn’t felt like just a kiss.

James went to speak again, but Sirius held up his hand, suddenly glad he had some power of James. He didn’t know how many questions he could lie his way through.

“Just listen, alright?” He sat back, letting his hand rest nervously against his thigh once more, “I need you to do something.”


Remus had spent the better part of the minutes between three and four in the morning running his hands over the soft fur of Sirius’ slippers over and over. By the time he had to get ready, he almost felt guilty stashing them away in his tiny moldy trunk at the base of his bed, underneath a pile of old shirts. The flower too, that had somehow remained tucked into his hair, got flattened between the pages of an old book he found in there. Maybe it was more sadness than guilt. Things so wonderful shouldn’t even been associated with such items, much less wedged between them.

He missed the feeling of the soft leather against his heels. He swallowed. He missed the feeling of Sirius’ hands on his skin. His mouth…

There was a hiss from in front of him and he jolted backwards at the steam issuing from the nearly over boiling pot of tomato soup.

“Shit.” He crouched, using the long iron tongs to push the heavy pan to the side, away from the flames, causing the bubbling to subside.

“Since when are you such a day dreamer?”

Remus turned his head to Mrs. Potter who was giving him a sly smile over her steadily growing mound of peeled potatoes. He offered her a slightly sheepish, slightly tight one of his own, “No. I mean- yes. I mean, sorry. I don’t know where I was.”

Mrs. Potter laughed, “Don’t apologize for dreaming, Remus. If anything apologize for the swearing.” Her eyes were kind and reflected the firelight warmly, “But never for the dreaming.”

Remus had to turn his head away. He didn’t want her to see his face fall, his grin succumb to uneasiness. He let the soup swing back into place and eased the fire down to a bluish flicker, then stood and dusted his hands on his apron.

He hesitated a moment, hands pressed to his thighs, before turning around slowly on his heel, “Um. While we’re… I… Just, about dreaming…”

Mrs. Potter’s knife flew on the potatoes and she didn’t look up, but hummed in a way that let him know he had her complete attention. Remus was glad for the lack of eye contact.

“If you…” He paused, desperately trying to think of his words carefully and quickly at the same time, “If you… have something. A dream. Something good, but you know…” he walked forward, pressing his hands to the cool counter top, “you know it isn’t going to last, this dream. This something good…” Mrs. Potter finally looked up at him, fingers stilling, and Remus swallowed before finishing, “do you think it’s worth it? Dreaming it up at all?”

Mrs. Potter looked at him for a moment thoughtfully, then went right back to peeling, “Hm.” She took a breath, “There’s a tale of two brothers. They’re walking in the forest and they come across a stone.” Remus looked at her quizzically but she pressed on, “On the stone are instructions on how to live ten years of pure bliss and happiness, full of riches and power. One brother follows them. He climbs a mountain, he wrestles a bear, he crosses a stream until he comes to a house that holds an enchantress that gives him what he came for. The brother becomes king of a large village with all the money and happiness one could want.” She hands Remus a few potatoes of his own and a knife then continues, “It lasts for ten years, just as the stone said. After his ten years of bliss, his kingdom falls, the woman he loves leaves him, his people turn against him. He is left powerless, loveless, and friendless. He has nothing to do but turn to the only person who knew him before he became what he was.”

“His brother.” Remus supplied, peeling slowly, more intent on listening.

Mrs. Potter nodded slightly in his direction, the pile beside her growing as she spoke, words rich and purposeful, “Exactly. Now, his brother had refused to take the instructions. He claimed that he was happy right then, with the life he was living. He didn’t know what would happen after ten years, so why risk it? He had a modest home, a good wife, had enough money to put basic food on his table. Why take the risk?”

“Well, he’d be happy for a time, at least. Truly happy.” Remus twirled his knife thoughtfully against the wooden counter, the point creating a small indent in the wood, “Why would he settle for something that he was just… content with when he could have something fantastic like his brother did, for even a little while…”

Remus trailed off, suddenly realizing what he was saying. Mrs. Potter was looking somewhat knowingly at him, almost too knowingly for Remus’ comfort.

“Well, I do believe you’ve just answered your own question, love.”

Remus felt his cheeks flush and he smiled, flicking a potato skin in her direction and making her laugh, eyes crinkling. They worked in silence after that, the soft scraping being the only sound that filled the room.

Remus supposed he had answered his own question. He had something good right now. Something better than anything he’d ever had in his life. He had someone. Or at least he was beginning too. Would he really be able to give that up, to give Sirius up, out of, what, fear? Fear of the future? It was there. It was definitely a real fear. There was no hope for them. They had kissed, Sirius had smiled, Sirius had apologized, Sirius had taken it back, Sirius had left. That in itself said it, right there: They both knew, if this began, how it would end. Remus closed his eyes briefly. If it hadn’t been for the remembered feeling of Sirius’ hands on his skin, Sirius’ lips on his own, he would have been decided right there. End it. Sooner rather than later. But logic was consumed by emotion, planning consumed by memories.

Remus’ voice sounded louder when he spoke again, hands slowing, “He’d have the memories, at least.” Remus swallowed, “When it was all over, I mean.” He felt Mrs. Potter’s eyes on him and looked up too, “That’s worth something, isn’t it? He’d remember the happiness. That’s worth the risk?”

She thought for a moment, her own hands slowing as well, knife gliding smoothly, “Memories are tricky, I think. Remembering them is okay, good even. They can take us back to that time, that place. We can feel what we felt again, or almost what we felt. But living in them… it gets dangerous. I suppose it depends on the person, and how valuable they think the memories will be to them. If they would value the memories over their own present happiness.” She looked at him again, eyes slightly more serious but not alarmingly so, “That past can be a tempting thing, Remus.”

And Remus probably knew then. He could feel a ghost of what unbearable weight could eventually settle on his heart if he let this happen, if he let this happen until it…couldn’t anymore. Until it stopped. And it would stop. But he isn’t in the past yet. He’s in the present. And aren’t people always saying to ‘live in the now’?

What a dangerous expression that is, and perhaps the most tempting thing of all.


The already hot air rose about ten degrees when Sirius swung open the door to the kitchens. He probably should have noticed the pies cooling by the window first, or the sharp smell of spices and butter in the air, or the obscenely large pile of white potatoes on the island. But he zeroed in on Remus almost instantaneously, and for a moment all he could feel was him, was last night. His frostbitten skin that turned to warm cheeks and soft kisses and tangled hair-

“Oh my. Your Royal Highness.”

Sirius blinked away from the wide amber eyes and to Mrs. Potter standing next to him. And yes, he definitely should have noticed that.

He tried to shake off his surprise and gave his best yes-I-am-your-charming-prince smile, only to wince a little at remembering how that smile made Remus frown. His expression most likely turned out rather odd.

“I- hello.”

Mrs. Potter smiled kindly at him and bowed her head respectfully. Sirius glanced at Remus, whose eyes were still fixed on him, hoping desperately he wouldn’t do the same, but knowing he had too. It felt odd, wrong, to see Remus acting like a subject in front of him. Sirius straightened uncomfortably as Remus bowed too, a male’s bow, lower and one had behind his back. Sirius wanted to grip his shoulders and stop him, maybe with a kiss if he was lucky-

“My prince, what might we help you with this evening?” When Sirius just stood there after a moment, Mrs. Potter glanced at Remus, confused, “Or… Or have you come on behalf of the Queen, perhaps?”

“No.” Sirius said quickly, snapping back into himself, what he was brought up to be, “No, nothing of the sort. I’m hear on purely…” he glanced at Remus once more, “physical business.” He had to fight off the smirk at Remus’ flushed cheeks, and looked back to Mrs. Potter, “I require you to fetch Nurse Pomfrey, if you would. Quickly please. I fear my cheek is rather infected.”

Mrs. Potter squinted slightly, obviously worrying over the gash on Sirius’ upper cheek, before nodding, bowing again, and rushing out of the room.

Sirius wasted no time.

It had it perks, being tall, and he closed the distance between him and Remus in just four strides, pressing his hands to Remus’ cheeks at the same time as Remus’ went to his hair. And if Sirius had thought the last kiss had been good, he felt nearly knocked off balance by this one. Remus fingers wound tightly into his hair, pulling and knocking the crown slightly askew as he kissed him, breath hot and needing, filling Sirius to the brim with relief and he doesn’t regret this, he wants this as much as you do.

“Jesus, the one time you choose not to be alone.” Sirius sighs into his mouth, thumbs stroking over Remus’ cheeks, imagining he can feel each freckle there and keep them.

“The one time you choose to wear this bloody thing.”

Sirius laughs. He noses gently along Remus’ cheek, relishing in how fucking natural it feels, like he’d been doing it for months and years and eternity.

Remus laughs too, “Honestly, the first time I get to kiss you without being nervous and you restrict me with this.”

“Excuse you, you had James’ mum next to you. Who’s restricting whom?”

Remus smiles, leaning into the place where Sirius presses a kiss to his cheek, and straightens the crown atop Sirius’ head before letting his hands fall to his neck, “Hm. I suppose you’re right.”

Sirius just lets their foreheads rests together, already dreading having to pull away, “Did you just say you were nervous to kiss me?”

He practically feels Remus roll his eyes, “We were both nervous.”

“I wasn’t nervous.”

Sirius feels a little pinch on his shoulder, “Yes, you were.”

He smiles, “Yeah, I was.”

Remus laughs again then lets out a long breath, nudging their faces closer together. They’re silent for a few moments, just enjoying the other being there.

Sirius feels reluctant to break the quiet. It feels like they’re in their own little bubble, protected from whatever this world would throw at them. But he has to ask before Mrs. Potter comes back with Pomfrey.

“Will you meet me? Tonight.”

“Tonight?” Remus questions, “Tonight’s the ball.”

“Tonight.” Sirius slides his hands from Remus’ cheeks, to his waist, feeling the well worn linen beneath his fingertips, “West parlor. Where we met.”

Remus smiled at the memory, “What a pompous little prick you were.”

Sirius laughed, hands tightening around Remus’ shirt and pulling their chests together. He didn’t miss the small gasp Remus let out, “I’m still a pompous little prick. Just not around you.” He tilted his head to the side, lips hovering over Remus’, “And I’m not so sure about little.”

Remus hummed, seeming more intent on closing the distance between their mouths than actually answering.

The sound of footsteps made them both jump terribly, but Sirius pulled Remus back against him, just for a moment, savoring, needing, “Say you’ll come.” He whispered.

Remus pressed his palms once against Sirius’ cheeks, lips quick to steal one more kiss, “Of course I’ll come.”

They stepped apart, Sirius moving to the other side of the table. Mrs. Potter entered, alone.

Sirius raised an eyebrow at her, “And Pomfrey?”

Mrs. Potter looked absolutely bewildered to see him still standing in the kitchen. She glanced at Remus who had turned away, pretending to tend to the fire. Sirius longed to glance too, maybe get a quick view of-

“You- Your Highness, I didn’t expect you to be here. I would have thought you would return to your chambers, I’ve sent Pomfrey there. My greatest apologies-“

Sirius rolled his eyes a little and then, with the way her face fell and mouth snapped shut, he wished he hadn’t. He was suddenly desperately glad Remus wasn’t looking.

The truth was that Remus was correct. He was a pompous prick. It seemed to go along with his inheritance. But he didn’t want to be. He had to let Remus know he was trying, he was changing.

“No matter.” He supplied, “I will seek her there.” He almost turned, then stopped himself. He had to try, “The- The food smells wonderful, by the way.” He hesitated, shifting uncomfortably, then dipped his head, just slightly, “Thank you, Mrs. Potter.”

He turned on his heel and left, leaving a wide eyed Mrs. Potter in his wake.

She turned to Remus, who was still desperately stoking the fire.

“Well. That- That was rather kind of him, wasn’t it?”

Remus kept himself turned away, hiding the grin that felt like it was nearly splitting his cheeks in two.

“It was. Maybe he’s having a good day.”

Sorry it’s a bit shorter! I just felt like I got a lot across in this chapter that should be separate from what is coming in the next. I hope you enjoy! I’ll definitely try to be more regular at updating now that school is over! Thanks for sticking with me <3 <3 <3 <3

I just want to hug and send positive vibes to everyone on mothers day who doesn’t have a mum or grew up with an abusive mother and/or doesn’t talk to their mum anymore. I know it hurts to see those posts on here praising mothers and how It feels when you think about your own. It will be okay, you’re strong and brave and made it this far without your mum, so just think about that and appreciate your own wisdom and strength, be kind to yourself. ❤️


* Wait no let me do it again

A Friend In Need - Jughead Jones Imagine

Originally posted by evenstoast

Warnings: Mentions of accident, death scare

Request: None

Summary: (Y/N)’s mother was in a really bad accident and is on the brink of death. Jughead visits hoping to help (Y/N) through the difficult time.

A/N: this is my first ever imagine and I’ve made the relationship more platonic however I tried to leave it open enough so if you wanted it to be more it can be. Let me know what you think! ❤️

You’re laying down face first into your pillow, sobs racking your body as you cry your heart out. You had just been told that your mother had been in an accident. A bad one. She was currently fighting for her life in hospital and there was a good chance she wouldn’t make it. But did that stop the doctors for telling you visiting hours were over? Nope. So here you are balling your eyes out as your mother fights for her life with only soap operas to give her support. You head snaps up as you hear someone knocking on the front door. You wipe your eyes, only to realise that your mascara and eyeliner had smudged all over your face and pillow. The knocking once again interrupts your despair.

“Go Away!” you shout once you get within range of the front door.

“(Y/N) please open the door,” you hear the deep voice of your best friend, “I’ve brought Pop’s.”

You sigh as you open the door for him, you never could refuse a Pop’s burger.

“How are you holding up?” Jughead asks as he waltzes through the hallway, you could almost swear he’s been here more than his own home. Your train of thought is once again interrupted by Jughead as he calls out to you from your kitchen.

“What?” You call out, starting to make your way over to him as he sighs.

“I said, ‘Have you heard from the hospital yet?’” He hands you your burger.

“No,” you sigh after a bite, “They said I can expect to hear from them tomorrow morning.”

“So they expect your mum to pull through?”

“I don’t know, one minute they’re telling me that she may not make it through the night and the next they’re telling me she’s going to make a full recovery.”

“That’s good”

“C'mon Juggy, you can’t honestly expect me to be so naive to believe that they’re not sugar coating it for me”


“No. My mother may be heading to the grave as we speak, but for the sake of appearances I can’t be there”

“I think it’s more that they’re protecting you from seeing -”

“I DON’T CARE!! I need my mother! And I don’t need protecting…not from anyone, including you” you say through the hot tears that run down your face, “I don’t care…”

“(Y/N)” he says drawing out your name in the softest tone you’ve ever heard him use, “come here.”

Before your mind has even registered the movement, Jughead wraps his arms around you in the most comforting hug you’ve ever gotten. Maybe it’s the fact that you had finally let out your frustration, or the fact that your best friend who doesn’t like physical contact has wrapped you in his arms, but you started crying harder.

“It’s ok (Y/N),” he soothes, rubbing your back, “It’s ok.”

While keeping your crying figure closely wrapped in his arms, Jughead shuffles you both back onto the couch holding you close to him as you cuddle up to him, hiccups overtaking your now soft sobs. 

Your eyes immediately open as a shrill ring disturbs the peaceful silence that had overcome your residence. You hazily look around and realise you must have fallen asleep as your head was now in Jughead’s lap, with him soothingly stroking your (H/C) hair. Another ring brings you back to your senses and you jump up racing to the nearest phone.

You hesitate and look to Jughead.

“I can’t, if she’s gone,” your voice starts trembling, “I can’t, I can’t…”

He looks at you with sadness in his eyes before he reaches out and answers the telephone. After a short conversation consisting of Jughead’s simple replies and a muffled speaker on the other end, Jughead hangs up the phone with a final “thank you doctor”.

“And? Is she ok? Will she live? Has she died?” You quickly ramble out hoping that your best friend can demolish the dread accumulating and weighing down your stomach. After a pregnant pause which only leaves you fearing the worst, Jughead finally turns to you and with a smile gracing his lips.

“Your mother is now in stable condition and will be awake to see you tomorrow”

(A/N: Y/N = Your Name; H/C = Hair Colour)

Not Letting Go - Part 3

Here’s part 3 of the Jason x Reader Soulmate AU!
So I know I am dragging this out stupidly long, but I think we’ve reached the halfway point! Major plot stuff will start happening soon! Hope you guys like it~

Part 1Part 2 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

Tagging: @jadedhillon


The first thing that registered in your brain when you woke up the next morning was that you felt extremely warm. Also, your pillow seemed to be rising up and down ever so slightly. You grumbled irritably, nuzzling into it in an attempt to get back to sleep. A low resounding chuckle jolted you into wakefulness and your eyes shot open, only to find Jason looking down at you, his expression fond. “Goodmorning to you too,” he greeted, tone bemused. You realised belatedly that you were laying across his chest, apparently doing a very good impression of an octopus judging by the way your limbs were entangled with his. You gasped, feeling your face heat up as you attempted to scramble away.
“Jay I’m so sorry! I didn’t” “Shhhhh,” he hushed you, strong arms wrapping around your waist in a vice like grip to keep you from wriggling away. “Calm down doll, it’s alright,” His tone was soothing; you were sure you were red as a tomato right now. Nonetheless you halted your frantic attempt to escape, instead choosing to hide your face against his chest with an embarrassed groan. Jason removed a hand from your waist to stroke your hair; you could hear the amusement in his voice when he spoke. “See? No harm done.” “I’m sorry I sleep like an octopus,” Your voice was muffled against his skin, but you knew he had heard you when he laughed, the sound vibrating in his chest beneath your ear. For some reason hearing it made you feel all warm and tingly. You groaned internally at your own mushiness. “Naw, you’re the best blanket I’ve ever had. I usually toss them off when I sleep. This morning I got to wake up warm for once,” You knew he was only trying to make you feel better, but it still worked. Unconsciously you started to relax against him. Then a thought struck horror into you. “Wait.. how long have you been awake?” Jason paused, and you already had your answer. “Oh god,” You moaned, defeated. He’d been awake before you and seen you attempting to entwine around him in your sleep. “Don’t be embarrassed doll, it’s adorable,” You just shook your head, deciding to let the subject drop before you died of mortification. “What time is it?” You turned your head to try and catch a glimpse of the alarm clock on your bedside table. “Eight thirty. Do you have to be somewhere?” His hold on you tightened fractionally, and you smiled at the reluctance in his words. “Yeah, I have class at ten,” You apologised, then paused. “You want to stay for breakfast?” Hope was like a living thing in your chest. You struggled to ignore it, glancing up at Jason. He grinned. “Doll I’d love to,”

You went to grab a quick shower, leaving Jason to sprawl across your bed and snuggle into your covers. The sight of him like that made it extremely difficult not to just climb back into bed and cuddle up with him, but somehow you managed not to. Once you were in the shower you took a moment to freak out, hopping up and down under the spray of hot water and hugging yourself tightly. The mix of excitement and nervousness was making you feel wired, and you had to take a few deep breaths to calm down, resting your head against the cold tile. You had never felt this way about anyone before Jason, had never allowed yourself to, and not just because he was your soulmate. It wasn’t uncommon for people to date others who weren’t their soulmate, you never knew when you would meet them so it wasn’t always practical to wait around. Your father hadn’t been your mum’s soulmate, they had been fifteen when they started dating in middle school. No, you had just been scared. Honestly you still were. Scared that Jason would leave, and even more scared of what would happen if he didn’t. His potential to change your future was almost terrifying. Your plan in life had never been very detailed, but a couple of things had always been concrete. You would go to college, graduate, get a stable job and make things better for both yourself and your mum. Now everything seemed uncertain. You still wanted to do all those things, but you didn’t know what impact Jason would have on that yet. And you knew already that you would give up so much to keep him with you.

When you had finished with your shower and gotten dressed, you checked that Jason’s clothes were dry and directed him towards the bathroom so he could clean up. Then you headed downstairs to start on breakfast. Your mum had already left for work so you didn’t have to worry about explaining why Jason was here. The night you had come downstairs wearing his jacket you had told her that it belonged to one of your friends. At the time you weren’t sure where things were going between the two of you and you didn’t want to get your mum’s hopes up. You knew she hoped you would meet your soulmate sooner rather than later, and you didn’t want to tell her that you weren’t sold on the concept. Now though… You figured you should probably tell her soon.
You mused over how you would go about breaking the news while you set about preparing breakfast, putting bacon and eggs to fry on the stove while you set the table. Jason emerged just as you were plating up the food, fresh and damp from the shower. He leaned in the doorway grinning at you, jacket drapped over his shoulder. You grinned back, unable to help yourself. His smile was infectious. “Smells delicious,” He commented, coming up behind you to wrap his arms around your waist, lowering his head to nuzzle into your neck. He sniffed, growling playfully. You let out a surprised laugh when you got the joke, swatting at him with the teatowel you were using to handle the hot plates. He chuckled, releasing you, and went to sit in the chair you shooed him towards. “Sorry, I didn’t know how you like your eggs,” you apologised, setting his plate down and taking your own seat across from him. He shook his head. “It looks great, thank you,” He hummed appreciatively when he took a bite and you smiled, tucking into your own food. “So what classes do you have today doll?” You chatted casually about your plan for the day, Jason interjecting occasionally to ask questions. He always seemed genuinely interested in what you had to say, and you found that you loved that about him. “How about you? Any plans?” You asked curiously. He grimaced. “Just helping Bruce out with some W.E work probably,” You had been genuinely confounded when Jason told you that he was the supposedly dead son of the billionare Bruce Wayne. All he had told you about the issue was that it had been a kidnapping gone wrong, and Bruce had genuinely thought him dead. He had decided afterwards that announcing that Jason was alive after so long would cause an uproar; it wasn’t the kind of story Wayne Enterprises would want to be associated with. You hadn’t questioned it any further than that. You could sense that it was a sore subject, and you knew that Jason would tell you more when he was ready.

Jason stayed to help you wash up after breakfast, a little voice in the back of your mind noting with satisfaction how well you worked together. Once you were finished you hugged him goodbye at the door, promising to text him later once you got home. You had admitted to him a while back that you often waited up in case he decided to come over, and after that he had taken your phone number, promising to message you in the evening if he was going to drop by. He had seemed pleased by your admission, jokingly adding a heart next to his name in your phone.
Once he was gone you sat at the counter with your school work, deciding to review your notes before class. Not even five minutes later your mum popped her head around the kitchen door, nearly giving you a heart attack. “Ohmygod mum! I thought you had work this morning!” You gasped, cluthing a hand to your chest. “I thought you were an intruder!” You accused, and then realised that if she was home it meant that she knew Jason had been here. You were so screwed. Your mum just smiled knowingly. “I switched shifts. Is that boy gone? I must say he’s very handsome,” She breezed in, filling the kettle to make herself a cup of tea. “Of course I knew when I saw the jacket that he probably would be, he has very good taste,” She turned to give you a wink and you groaned, letting your head fall into your hands. Of course she knew. When had you ever been able to hide anything from her?

Your mum called your name and you looked up, finding her leaning against the counter looking at you, arms folded. “Is he your soulmate?” She wasn’t angry that you’d had a boy over and hadn’t told her, you knew that she trusted you. Still, you found that you were surprised nonetheless. You had been expecting more of a reaction. Instead she seemed happy, you suspected maybe even excited. You nodded hesitantly. “Yeah.. His name’s Jason,” She smiled. “Jason,” She repeated, mulling the name over. “How did you meet him?” You groaned internally. You knew this wouldn’t be the only time you would be asked this question, and quite frankly the answer was kind of embarrassing. “I kind of ran into him in town.. literally. He offered to help me up and I uh, I ran away,” you admitted, and she laughed, shaking her head fondly. “Of course you did. At least he had the sense to follow you. God knows I’ve been waiting for this long enough.” You hesitated. “Would you, um. Would you like to meet him?” You weren’t quite sure why you were asking. You knew you should probably clear it with Jason first, but you knew he was secretly dying to bring you home himself. You didn’t think he would mind. “I would love to. Why don’t you invite him over for dinner tonight?” “Okay,” you mumbled, and your mum smiled warmly, coming over to hug you tightly. You squeezed back, glad to finally be able to talk about Jason to her.
Once you were outside and on your way to class you decided to send Jason a text. ‘Mum found out about you. She wants to know if you’d like to come for dinner tonight? x’ You hesitated a little before adding the x, feeling childish, before deciding to hell with it and sending the message. Jason texted back almost immediately. ‘What time? I’ll be there. (: x’ You smiled to yourself, nervous excitement taking root in the pit of your stomach. It was going to be a long day.