sorry if you thought i was over this the real thing

mixtape (m)

pairing: min yoongi x reader 

genre: smut, fluff, comedy / college, podcast personality au

word count: 15,610

description: Two mystery students from your college run the podcast dubbed ‘mixtape.’ It’s become a sort of phenomenon around campus, listened to by almost everyone. In their most recent episode they discussed various study methods… One of them being oh so tempting.

“This week’s topic is—” Sugar started, of course only to be swiftly interrupted by the second half of the two-man show podcast that had sort of gone viral around your college campus.

But regardless of being cut short, the metallic nature of his voice still managed to worm its way directly into your chest, where it festered into something so captivating that you couldn’t help but sigh. It was cool to the touch as the syllables of his chosen words sent an intrusion of goosebumps along your arms and thighs. It had a certain gravel, a deepness that you could sometimes feel in the pit of your belly if you listened to him long enough with your eyes closed. However, more times than not, the grit would be severed with a vibrant laugh that rang so sweetly that you could feel it clamoring around your heart with giddiness on its heels.

“—Studying! So sexy, right?” Jay interjected mid-sentence, something that anyone who listened to their weekly episodes would quickly learn is a norm.

However, there were times of course where Sugar was allowed the courtesy of going off on long tangents without his friend’s interruption, and in those moments his voice was hypnotic, if you had to put it simply. It tugged you beneath the current of concentration until you were pressing the volume button on your phone to raise his vocals higher. The small hitch of his breath, or exhale against the mic when he would sigh due to the topic at hand, they made you lean in closer to the invisible man on the other side of the pre-recorded audio that filtered through your headphones.

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The Proposal | Part Two

Summary: In which a fake proposal leads to the admission of real feelings.

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Word Count: 3,619

Part One

Originally posted by veronikaphoenix

A knock pulls Bucky away from the mirror and to the door. He takes his time unlocking it and pulling it open, unsure of who’s waiting on the other side.

“Are you ready?” Steve fiddles with his tie, not bothering to look up and properly greet his best friend. “We’re leaving in ten minutes.”

Bucky’s heart stalls for a brief second, long enough to remind him that it’s still there. It still works. It still feels. After everything that has happened with Hydra, he wasn’t sure that would be the case.

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Paring: Bucky x Reader 

Prompt: You have been spending more time in the Gym to try and upstage a woman you believe Bucky has a thing for.


Warnings: Jealous!Reader, mentions of inadequacy, Angst, Gym Smut, SMUT, teasing, C**T rubbing  

A/N: This is my first real Angsty Smut one shot, I now understand what everyone meant when they say you get carried away. Anyway  please let me know what you think! Feedback is always appreciated. To be tagged , and for future tags let me know. Requests are open. Shoot me an ask! Happy Reading!  

“47…..48….49…50..” You counted allowed to yourself. You dropped down to the floor, using as much arm strength as you could to continue forcing your arms to push you up and back down again repeatedly, though you could feel your muscles burning in protest. 

You were actually quite proud of yourself. A few moths ago you could barley complete a simple ten push ups. You could fight like a soldier, shoot like a professional, and run like an athlete, but there were certain exercises you had always refused to do, and push ups were one of them. If you told your past self you would find making it to fifty push ups in less than three minutes easy, you would have laughed and thought you were being put on. 

You made a mental note to yourself to somehow thank Bucky when you had the chance, after all he was the reason you had the sudden urge to begin exercising in the first place. 

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You're not going to find your spirituality on the internet

Maybe this’ll be unpopular but it’s been bugging me a lot lately.

Online there’s a lot of “my gods are so silly I gave them fun nicknames and we hang out like buddies lolz”

Online there’s a lot of “[insert religion] sucks! It’s boring and stupid and being pagan is sooooo much cooler! I’m more fulfilled than they’ll ever be!”

Online there’s a lot of trendy fads and expensive magick tools/altars/etc and people who will tell you who you should be even when it goes against your better judgement.

But a lot of baby witches and pagans will cling to the Internet as their only place to learn about their chosen spirituality.

Your spirituality is so much deeper and more meaningful than that. You, reading this now, YOU are capable of so much. If you feel jaded about life like I do right now, please log off for a moment.

Go meditate without any preconceptions or expectations. Just breathe, count your breaths. Feel the energy around you. If you can, light a candle and gaze into the flame. If you have any, hold a crystal and tune into it.

Go out in nature somewhere, anywhere, and feel the wind on your face. Breathe in the primordial earth. Listen to the sounds around you.

Your gods aren’t silly playthings for you to take out of a box and amuse yourself with when you’re bored. They’re powerful beings who deserve respect and shouldn’t be called on frivolously. Talk to them, give them offerings, but don’t degrade them to “spooky toy” status.

You don’t have to spend a dime on an altar. You don’t have to “look” a certain way. You don’t need all the bells and whistles or an impressive magical lineage.

Don’t shit all over other religions, even if you don’t agree with them. Respect them as their own identities. Your spirituality isn’t a trendy accessory to make you look edgy and unique. It’s a deeply felt reality for you, something that drives you from the core of your being. Laughing at someone else’s spiritual path is like pointing at someone’s purse and ridiculing it because it’s not as cool as yours. Spirituality isn’t an accessory, so don’t treat it like one or you risk looking like you aren’t confident in your own.

And finally, don’t try to search for your spiritual path online. Study and learn there, sure. Ask questions. Be curious. But don’t confuse Internet tags and Instagram photos for your own personal spiritual identity. The only way to develop your spiritual identity is by actively practicing, and I mean YOUR way. Don’t want to worship gods? Don’t. Uncomfortable with practicing magick? Don’t.

Please log off every now and then to decompress and turn inward, away from the allure of Internet spirituality. Energy, spirit, deities–these are all purely experiential things that require your full attention and considerable mindfulness. Please don’t shape your spiritual identity around boredom or edginess or nonconformity for its own sake. If you found your spirituality because it’s not mainstream or you thought you could learn some magick to make you interesting, then it’s based mainly on negative traits like guilt, anger, or escapism.

Let your spirituality be a driving force at the core of your being, something powerful and good and absolutely enchanting because it speaks to your soul. Take your spirituality out of its conceptual phase in your mind and put it into real, tangible practice.

And sorry I ranted for five million hours I just have a lot of feelings……

long lost | jjk

summary: jeon jungkook is famous, talented, and on the hunt for his childhood friend and first love. you are self-deprecating, a little awkward, and exactly who he’s looking for. only, there’s one (1; single, a solo) problem: he doesn’t know it. 

{childhood friends!au, celebrity!au}

pairing: jungkook x female reader
word count: 15k
genre: fluff, comedy, light angst
warnings: n/a
a/n: finally!!! after literally a month of no bts writing, here is this 15k beast that i’ve been hyping up. inspired by true events, kinda. i will work on getting the sorted series out next, so please be on the lookout! 

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Bygones of the Sun | 08 (M)

Originally posted by hobismole

Genre: Angst/fluff/(future)smut || dance captain!hoseok, bad boy!au, uni!au

Pairing: Reader x Hoseok

Length: 4.6k

Summary: Jung Hoseok was once the sweetheart of the school, the dance captain whom every girl, including you, can’t help but fall head over heels for. But like the force of the ever-glowing sun, everything that rises must also set. A year of inactivity later and he’s now the school’s resident bad boy. You’re a firm believer of allowing the past be the past, and yet you can’t help but wonder where the risen sun has gone into hiding—because perhaps its shadows have out-shined its own radiance.

01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | 07 | 08  

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“You know, I came out to my parents in a letter.”

“You…” Bitty blinked and took a moment to process that. He’d stopped crying a while ago but Jack was still rubbing soothing circles on his back, and it made it easy for him to not think about anything else. “Did you?”

Jack hummed in response, and Bitty felt it vibrate through where his head was pressed into Jack’s chest. “I’d let you read it, but I’ve seen you with French, so.”

The chirp surprised Bitty into laughing, and he felt Jack laugh too. Still, the moment passed quickly and Bitty sighed. “I just…”

“I know,” Jack said, low and quiet before he pressed a kiss to the top of Bitty’s head. “I know.”

“Could- did- how’d your parents take it?” Bitty asked, and Jack shifted a tiny bit, but the circles didn’t stop and he didn’t move.

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10 Letters To My Soulmate

An anonymous ask requested a soulmate-themed Drabble, here it is!

On Wednesday morning at breakfast, an owl from OSA (Owling Soulmates Anonymous) was delivered to Draco Malfoy. It read:

Dear Soulmate,

I know it might be odd that I’m contacting you now, since I’ve never tried to before, but I decided that I just have to know that you exist. Since this program started, nearly everyone I know has written to their soulmate and found something, or rather, someone, amazing. I kept wondering why you never reached out, but maybe you have never even heard of this program. I don’t know. Maybe you have heard of this program but you don’t want to know me. I just know that I’ve been through a lot through the last year, and if you’re out there somewhere feeling as broken as I do, then maybe we can help each other heal. Or something.


On Friday afternoon, while Harry and Ron were watching Flitwick put up Christmas decorations in the Great Hall, a return owl from OSA was delivered to Harry Potter. It read:

Dear Soulmate,

The reason that I have not tried to contact you is not because I don’t want to know you, but because I feel that you do not want to know me. Trust me, whoever you are, you deserve more than me. Regardless, I hope you find happiness from someone who can actually give it to you, and I wish you a Happy Christmas. That is, if you celebrate Christmas.


Draco was busying himself in his eighth year dorm on Friday night by organizing his books in alphabetical order of the author’s last name when a second owl from OSA arrived.

Dear Soulmate,

Please don’t push me away. I want to know you no matter who you are.

Also, I think it’s quite pretentious of you to assume that I deserve more than you have to offer. I could be anyone, even a mass murderer. I mean I’m not a mass murderer, but still.

And if you’re wondering, I do celebrate Christmas. I don’t have a family to share it with, but my friends are very welcoming. I like to think that if these letters work out, we could even spend Christmas together. But since you’re being so presumptuous and prat-like, I guess we won’t.


On Saturday morning, an owl tapped on Harry’s dorm window. Harry rushed to open it, and when he took the letter and sent the owl off, he saw that it was an OSA letter and his heart skipped a beat.

He looked at his roommate’s bed to see if he was still there. The bed was made and it seemed that he had left for the day, which was odd, since it was still very early, and he had been up late organizing his books. ‘Oh well,’ Harry thought, and he went ahead and read the letter.

Dear Soulmate,

I don’t see how I can be the prat when you’re the one who insulted me. And, in my opinion, it is presumptuous of you to think that while you could be a mass murderer, I could not be. Of course, like you, I only point that out for the sake of argument, and I am most certainly not a mass murderer. But I am by no means a good person. For the past six months or so I have been trying to make up for all the awful things I’ve done, yet nothing I do can erase the sins of my past. If you were to meet me, know who I am and what I’ve done, you would not want to spend Christmas with me. You’d want to get as far away from me as possible.

I’m sorry that you have no family. I don’t have a great family, but I cannot even imagine how it must feel to have none at all. I’m glad that you have good friends whom you can love and trust. If you didn’t have friends like that, I’d have to send you a puppy or some other sort of pet so that you would not be alone on Christmas.

Truly, soulmate, I want the best for you, but please don’t write to me again. I am a horrible, horrible person and you should not waste your time with me.


Draco sighed when yet another OSA owl came to him on Sunday morning in the library. He set aside the textbooks he’d been studying and prepared himself to read the message from his soulmate.

Dear Soulmate,

I believe that you’ve done terrible things. I’ve done terrible things too. I killed someone in a war and it haunts me everyday. It breaks my heart to think that you have to carry the weight of your mistakes even as you try to make up for them. All I want to do is lighten that weight and prove to you that you can be loved despite that. And I hope you know that having done horrible, horrible things does not make you a horrible, horrible person. I can tell that you have a good heart just by your statement that you would send me a puppy to keep me company on Christmas. That’s a really sweet thing to say, you know.

And if your family isn’t the best then you’re free to join my friends and I. Of course, that would mean confessing your identity, which you should only do if you’re sure that you want to meet me. Until then, I’d like it if we kept sending each other letters. Your words make me smile and make me forget about the nightmares I’ve lived through for a while.


Harry smiled when a third OSA letter arrived for him on Monday.

“Is that from them?” Hermione asked, noticing Harry’s wide smile.

Harry blushed. “Weren’t you about to go to your dorm?”

Hermione rolled her eyes, but she left the Eighth Year Common Room so Harry could read the letter in privacy.

Dear Soulmate,

I have to admit, I am surprised by you. When I used to think of who you might be, I imagined a perfect person with no flaws whatsoever. I think I like you better now that I can tell you’re a real person. You’re understanding and thoughtful and you seem loyal, but you have made mistakes too. I’m sorry that you have to suffer because of those mistakes, though.  

I agree now that we should keep sending letters. Especially since they make you smile. (Don’t let it go to your head, but your letters bring a smile to my face as well.)


Harry was just finishing up the letter with a sappy smile on his face when Draco entered the common room.

“Malfoy? You’re out late,” Harry said.

“I was in the Owlery. I had, uh, a Christmas card to send.” For some reason Malfoy was blushing. “I’ll just be heading up to our room then.” Malfoy hurried up to his and Harry’s shared room and Harry stayed in the Common Room to reread the letter a few times.

It wasn’t until later, when Harry was lying awake in bed, that he realized the implications of Malfoy being in the Owlery just before he received his soulmate’s letter. ‘Could Malfoy be my soulmate?’ Harry thought.

Draco got a reply from his soulmate sooner on Tuesday, when he was helping Goyle wrap his presents. Goyle looked over Draco’s shoulder, trying to catch sight of what the letter said. Draco pushed Goyle away with a laugh. “It’s for my eyes only, Goyle.”

Goyle shrugged and went back to work wrapping the wand case he bought for Pansy.

Draco left the room to read the letter alone, not able to keep a smile off his face.

Dear Soulmate,

I must, unfortunately, inform you that your comment about my letters making you smile did indeed go to my head and all day I have been strutting around with a proud look on my face. My friends tell me that I look ridiculous. I don’t care. I’ve been feeling happy lately, because of you, and I want everyone to know that. I, like you, have found a certain comfort in knowing that my soulmate is out there, that they’re a real person, who can be sweet and can also be a prat.

By the way, my offer to spend Christmas with you still stands. Now that we both know that we’re accepted by each other unconditionally, there should be little standing our way of being together. Of course, I will still understand if you want to remain anonymous. And I will also understand if you don’t want to be with me and would prefer to just be friends.

Anyhow, if you decide to not join me for Christmas I’ve decided that I will get you that puppy which you promised me. I don’t even know if you like dogs, but I have such good taste in pets that I am sure you’ll like the one I get you regardless. I’ll let you name him, but if I may suggest a name, Padfoot is an excellent one.


Draco’s smile stayed all day long. When he returned to his room after helping Goyle with the last of his gifts, he found Potter already inside on his bed, flipping through a gift catalog.

“What’re you smiling for?” Potter asked, smirk on his face.

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” Draco said. He tucked the letter in his bedside table drawer and hummed as he looked for a book from the uber-organized bookshelf.

Draco’s humming was so loud that he didn’t hear Potter whisper, “I think I do know.”

Harry’s reply didn’t come until Thursday, Christmas Eve.

Dear Soulmate,

I’m sorry I couldn’t respond sooner, but I’ve been busy. My roommate has been forcing me to spend time with him. We walked through the snow and went sledding (Have you ever been sledding? It’s much more fun than I thought it would be) and made Christmas cookies. I’ve never spent too much time with my roommate before, but it turns out that he’s actually fun. He and I were laughing practically the entire day. I’m only sorry that doing all that prevented me from writing to you.

Concerning Christmas, please do not send me a puppy. I’m not allowed to have one in my room, and my parents certainly would not take of it for me until I had a place of my own to keep it in. However, now that I give more thought to the idea, I suppose my roommate might help me keep the puppy a secret.

I think Padfoot is an odd, yet intriguing, name, by the way.

Happy Christmas Eve.


Harry quickly wrote out a reply and rushed to the Owlery. He wanted his letter to get to Draco before it was officially Christmas.

Draco got his new OSA letter while in the kitchen, helping the house elves prepare food for the feast tomorrow.

“Hold on, Tink, I’ve got to read this, then I’ll help you with the turkey.”

Dear Soulmate,

Your roommate sounds amazing. Like, the most awesome bloke in the world. I’ll bet he’s good looking, too. He probably has charmingly messed up black hair and enchantingly bright green eyes. Does he play Quidditch too? Perhaps he’s a Seeker. Perhaps he was even the youngest Seeker in a century. Blimey, he’s sounds so talented that I bet you never caught the Snitch before him. Luckily, I think he likes you despite your less than par Seeker skills. I think he likes you as much as I do. He probably wants to buy you a puppy and spend Christmas with you just like I do.

Now, after I’ve thought about it, I’ve realized your roommate and I are very similar. In fact, one might even say that we’re one and the same.


“Sorry, Tink, I can’t help with the turkey. I’m so sorry, but I really have to go. Good luck!”

Harry was caught off guard when, while he was pacing the floor of his dorm room, Draco walked in, his face red from running and his eyes shining with- happiness?

“Did you get-” Draco started, and then a tapping could be heard on the window.

Harry went to open the window and retrieve the OSA letter from the owl. He shut the window and went to sit on his bed as he opened and read the letter. Draco was holding his breath.

Dear Soul/Roommate,

Potter? Meet me in our room as soon as possible.

-Not So Anonymous

(P.S. I can’t wait to spend Christmas with you.)

Everything in the room was silent except for the sound of parchment sliding against parchment as Harry refolded the letter and tucked it back inside the envelope.

“So, I guess we’re-”

“Soulmates? Yeah.” Harry smiled at Draco and slowly Draco began to smile too.

Harry stood up, walked to Draco, took his hand, and said, “I hope you know I wasn’t kidding about the puppy.”

Draco laughed, as he had been expecting Harry to say something more profound, and then he was surprised again when Harry interrupted his laugh to place a kiss on his lips.

in this together.

Originally posted by cxhragrove

(billy hargrove x reader)

summary: who knew that the king of the douches actually had a heart? and can actually comfort someone? it’s wild.

request: Hi there! I know you probably have a lot of requests rn but my hometown Ventura is on fire and I’m out of town for college and i’m freaking out, i just feel really small and afraid and kind of lonely without my family and friends. Do you think you could write a Billy fic where someone from his hometown who he went to school with has to come to Hawkins to live with family for a bit because there was a huge fire in their hometown and their home was taken? Something comforting and fluffy

word count: 2,726

a/n: hey remember that time that i said that i was going to bed and wouldn’t be posting til tomorrow ha guess who has no self control. IN OTHER NEWS anon, i really really really hope that this cheers you up and helps you out! i’m sending good vibes and praying for you, my friend. seriously, if you want to talk, do not hesitate to send me a message or a private ask. abuse tw.

It wasn’t that you and Billy weren’t friends, per say, but your mom had been best friends with his stepmom, and everyone who’d gone to your high school had known how that had gone over. So you were automatically on the side of the opposition, in his eyes. He wasn’t cruel, or anything like that. Just cold, mostly.

But then he moved away and you really didn’t think about him that much.

And then one thing lead to the next, and you were standing outside of the Hargrove’s house in some small town in Indiana. You tried your hardest not to read into it, but all the leaves had fallen off of the trees, leaving them looking brown and dead. There was a sharp chill in the air, one you weren’t used to. You tugged your thin jacket closer to your body as Max passed you and headed into the house.

You’d been there a week and you still felt like an outsider. There was an uncomfortable tension that swamped the house the second that Billy’s father arrived home. It’s not that anything specific happened, but there were looks and words spoken in harsh whispers and the way that Max would sometimes flinch whenever her stepfather raised his voice even a little.

You followed behind her, listening as Billy slammed his car door shut. Your heart gave a little ache as you stepped inside. You knew that your parents hadn’t meant for this to be a bad thing. Times were tough. Your family didn’t have a place to stay, and it was easier for your parents to send you away for a little while so they could get back onto their feet. It just so happened, though, that the nearest place with people who would take you in, was in Indiana.

“You gonna stand there all day, Y/N?” Billy’s gruff voice invaded your thoughts.

“What? Oh, sorry,” you said, scurrying towards the kitchen where Max’s mom could be heard. She was a nice enough woman, but she seemed a little fake, if you were being honest. You snagged an apple from the fruit bowl on the counter, watching idly as Max and her mom caught up with each other.

It wasn’t that you were jealous. You just missed your family and your friends and Hawkins was small enough that it was kind of hard to make new ones, especially when half of the school was terrified of you merely because you were living with the King of the Douches himself. It was kind of ridiculous, really. Billy Hargrove was a lot of things, but you really couldn’t find it in yourself to be afraid of him. You’d seen him when he was seven, and sobbed when he found out Santa wasn’t real.

So you went about your business, keeping your head down as you went to your classes and ate your lunch and kept quiet. When you’d get to the Hargroves after school, it was much of the same thing. Max was either in the room that the two of you shared, or off with her friends. Billy would be hanging around the living room watching TV or lifting, but the second his dad showed up, he disappeared into his room for the rest of the night. And the Hargrove parents really didn’t seem like the type to want to hang out and talk to you about your day.

You spent the rest of the night quiet, working on homework and staring at your plate during dinner. By the time the dishes and silverware were washed, Max had retreated to her bedroom to start on her homework. You lingered by the kitchen sink, adjusting the dish towel that was hanging off the rack when you heard it.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” The words were spat out, harsh and glaring in the otherwise quiet of the house.

“I don’t know what you mean.” There was a pause. “Sir.” You frowned, tilting your head in the direction of the hallway. You’d heard Billy sound like a lot of things, but never like that.

“It’s a school night, and you’ve got your keys in your hand, acting like you’re getting ready to go do who knows what. Unless you’ve got a damn good excuse, you’re going to your room and you’re going to learn some goddamn respect, do you understand me?” There was no response from Billy, but then you heard it.

A hard, resounding slap.

“Where the hell are you going?”

“Billy, you ready to head out?” The words left your mouth faster than you could really think about them. But your feet carried you towards the hallway, pausing once you reached Mr. Hargrove and Billy. The two of them stared at you, slackjawed, but you just plowed through, acting as though you hadn’t heard anything. “Seriously, thank you for taking me into town. You are a lifesaver.”

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~College!au Pen Pal Jimin~PART FOURTEEN: END

[part 1] [part 2] [part 3] [part 4] [part 5] [part 6] [part 7] [part 8] [part 9] [part 10] [part 11] [part 12] [part 13]

Jimin’s heart was racing as he jogged to the campus’ cafe. Sure, you were blunt and usually said what was on your mind, you managed to beat around the bush with the question he asked. 

Instead of giving Jimin an answer, you decided to ask to meet up to ‘settle’ this, whatever this was, in person.

Jimin, although nervous, was excited to see you again. He never made the final move to get your number at the party and he definitely wasn’t going to let you slip out of his fingers again. 

Approaching the cafe, Jimin let out a shaky sigh. It was the intervention he wasn’t even expecting. When he thought about meeting his pen pal weeks ago, he never felt nervous although he had caught quite the liking to you. But now finding out you were THE girl who made him open up his heart by being so accepting of the real him? 

Real him, he thought to himself with a scoff. Would you even believe the guy you talked to at the party was the real him? Or did you think that he was just trying to appeal to you in hoped of sleeping with you later?

He didn’t have time to answer his nerve-wracking questions because he caught sight of you–of course he remembered what you looked like; your image was glued to his mind–wearing sweats and most likely a sweatshirt way too large for you. 

Smiling softly at your being, he approached while watching you bounce your knee up and down and stare at the tea before you intently.

Your thoughts were a jumbled mess. Your stomach was doing flip flops and you heart was beating a miles a minute. Why did you agree to this?

After Jimin sent you the inevitable ‘do you like me too?’ text, you couldn’t even answer that to yourself. Instead of replying you agreed on meeting him at your campus’ cafe. 

What was he going to act like? 

Better yet, what did you want him to act like?

You just wanted him to be honest. Honest with you, but most importantly honest with himself.


You snapped your head up at the voice and gave a wary smile.

“Park Jimin,” You greeted, gesturing to the seat across from you for him.

“Jimin is just fine, you know?” Jimin smiled and took a seat.

“Sorry,” You apologized before moving you tea closer to you to take a sip. “So, my pen pal is the famous Jimin that I’ve heard so much about. How many girls want to be in my shoes?” You asked before taking a long sip.

Jimin chuckled and shook his head. “You wouldn’t believe me,” He sighed before taking a long look at you, “But I’m glad it’s you.”

“Oh really?” You wiggled your eyebrows, “You mean you loved flirting with me only to be constantly rejected?” 

Looking away for a split second, he rolled his eyes with a grin, “No–o. We had nice conversations that I’ve never had with another girl before. Y/N, I don’t think you understand how much you’ve grown on me.”

“I tend to be a blessing to people’s lives,” you flipped your hair behind your shoulder. Jimin laughed, causing his eyes to crinkle into a shape resembling crescent moons.

“I agree. Plus, I think you rejecting me really gave me a reality check. If I could be so easily rejected because you didn’t know who I was, that tells a lot about my reputation. I’m so used to people just begging for my attention but with you, I felt like I was begging for yours,” He finished his statement quietly. 

You raised your eyebrows in surprise. You always discarded Jimin’s flirting with a roll of your eyes over text but now knowing who he really was made your original thoughts about him change. He never gave up on you. Well, until you made your deal but still, he managed to squeeze in a few texts of endearment. 

“And then our talk at the party? Man, that really opened my eyes. It was the first conversation with a girl that didn’t have to do with flirting. You had no idea who I was and I was able to express my true thoughts and feelings.”

“You talked about yourself, too. I could tell you had a connection to ‘Jimin,’ but I didn’t even think that you were him. I noticed you were often, how do I say, at war with yourself, and very careful with what you said at first,” You said softly.

“Yeah,” He agreed with a long sigh, “I knew if I said the wrong thing to expose myself, you wouldn’t want to talk to me anymore.”

“How do you know that? Since when we first spoke, you were nothing but honest with me. Well, besides your identity. Even if I found out who you were at the end of the night, I would’ve been the only girl who new the real Park Jimin.”

“I didn’t know. People are so judgmental nowadays. A few weeks ago I found out my friend Jungkook’s pen pal didn’t tell him who she really was because the first time they met he looked so disappointed. By a single look, her self esteem was crushed and she decided not to tell him.”

“What happened to them?”

“They became best friends! Meanwhile Jungkook was falling for her and his pen pal unknown to him that they were the same person. Heh, I guess I could relate to that. After a bunch of drama with her fake friend, Jungkook found out and he felt terrible.”

“And?” You were on the edge of your seat. Was his friend forgiven? Were they still friends?

“Oh. They’re dating now,” He finished off.

“They are?”

“Yeah, she loved him. And he realized he loved her after she was out of his life for a while. It’s a really long story, believe me.”

“Well at least by the end, neither of them were judgmental. Jungkook obviously learned from his mistake and his pen pal didn’t judge him after all the drama and instead forgave him,” You pointed out.

“It took an entire intervention! It took me and Taehyung for them to finally settle the truth.”

“I can assure you, I’m not like that.”

“I didn’t know that then. Besides, what if you did know things about me and you were just like the other girls? For once I wanted to be a nobody.”

“You know,” You began, a smile stretching on your face. “I like this Jimin. If you don’t like the reputation you have, why don’t you just change, though?”

“It’s hard to. It’s hard to be something society expects you not to be.”

“Screw society. Be whoever the hell you want to be. If I was who everybody thought I’d be, I’d be nose in books and not caring toward anyone else on the planet.”

Jimin stared at you in admiration. How were you so accepting?

“Listen, I know we met up so I can answer your question but can I ask you this really vital question first?”

Jimin widened his eyes and nodded. “Of course.”

“Am I really the girl who changed the dear fuckboy?” You teased with a smile.

Sighing at the lack of seriousness in your question, he rolled his eyes. “I think so, my love.”

“Okay no really. One question: If I was another girl, would you still have the same feelings for me?”

He thought about the question for a moment. “I’m always going to like the girl at the party. If the girl I was texting wasn’t you, she wouldn’t have had the same effect on me. You were you and nobody would’ve replaced how I felt about you the first time we met.”

“So you don’t think it’s pure coincidence me and the girl at the party are the same person.”

“My love, nothing is an accident.”

“Then yes, Park Jimin. My dear fuckboy, I’ve had feelings for you since the  ‘have you ever fallen in love?’ conversation we had. It was our first real conversation and it really won me over.”

“You mean, you’ve liked me for a while now? And you made no move?”

“And give you the satisfaction and inflate your ego? No thanks,” You laughed.

“You know, I think even if we didn’t have the conversation about how I found out you were my pen pal, I still would’ve figured it out.”

“You think?”

“I know.”

Giving him a skeptical look, you asked, “How?”

“There was one thing–one statement–you two said that I didn’t remember until now.”

“Oh yeah? What was that?” 

He leaned in close enough to be only a few centimeters away from your and your breath hitched in your throat. 

“’In your dreams boi.’“ 

Before you could scoff at your repetitive phrase, he placed his lips on yours and this time you thought, Hm maybe he was right all those months ago when we first spoke. You don’t want this to be a dream.


Hehehe even tho during the piece of their convo at the party didn’t include the iconic, in your dreams boi, SOMEWHERE IN THAT CONVO THROUGH THE NIGHT IT WAS THERE HAHA

WHo’s ready for Jin’s pen pal bc his is next!!! (im sensing lots of fluff)

Love y’all!!!<333

7 Engagements

day 7, featuring a fake engagement and real drarry feelings

The last person Harry expected to find outside his door two days before Christmas was Draco Malfoy. But there Malfoy was on his doorstep, looking effortlessly gorgeous despite the blizzarding winds.

“Come in,” Harry said, not quite sure what else to say. He and Malfoy were now friendly, but they were barely friends. Harry couldn’t come up with an explanation as to why Malfoy would be at his house.

Luckily he didn’t have to, for Malfoy stated frankly as he settled on Harry’s loveseat, “Potter, I need you to pretend to be my fiancé.”

“I’m sorry, what?” Harry said.

“I need you to pretend to be my fiancé. Would you? Please?” Malfoy folded his hands on his lap politely and looked patiently at Harry as he awaited a response.

“I’m gonna need some background information, Malfoy.”

Malfoy sighed. “My fiancé, Gunnar, broke off our engagement this morning. Which would be all fine and dandy had I not told my parents that I would be bringing my betrothed to Christmas Eve lunch tomorrow.”

“Oh, Malfoy, I’m sorry, I didn’t even know you were engaged.” If Harry had known Malfoy was engaged, maybe he wouldn’t have gazed longingly at him so much when he saw him at the Ministry.
“Were being the key word. Anyways, will you do it? Pretend to be my fiancé? My parents never met Gunnar, and I never even told them his name, so they’ll buy it if you pretend to be him.”

“Are you sure you’re okay, Malfoy? I mean, you two just broke up today. Maybe you should go home and get some rest. And I’m sure that if you tell your parents the truth, they’ll understand.” Harry joined Malfoy on the seat, trying to be a comforting presence.

Apparently Harry wasn’t doing too good of a job of that, because then Malfoy snapped, “Do you even know how many times I’ve been engaged?”

“Er, I think I saw something in the Daily Proph-”

“Seven! Seven times! And just guess how many engagements of mine have been broken!”

“Exactly, seven! So I will not, under any circumstances, let down my parents yet again on Christmas Eve!” Malfoy had abandoned his polite way of sitting on the loveseat, and by the end of his rant he was standing, looking down his imperious nose at Harry.

“Why do you want me to do it? What about, I don’t know, Blaise?”

Malfoy rolled his eyes and turned away from Harry. “Blaise lives in France.”

“With his husband.”


“Don’t you have any other friends who could do it?”

“No,” Malfoy said, and when he turned back to Harry, his eyes were glistening. Harry felt a pang of guilt. He wasn’t turning Malfoy away because he didn’t want to help him, he did want to help him, but it would just be too hard to pretend when Harry thought he was starting to have real feelings for Malfoy.

“Look,” Malfoy said. “I thought you’d want to help, you’re always saving people and all that, but if I’m too much of a bother-”

“Wait, Malfoy, wait. You’re not a bother, I just…” Harry trailed off. Malfoy was looking at him with those shiny grey eyes, his despair written all over his face, and Harry couldn’t stand to let him down. “I’ll do it.”

Malfoy looked so relieved and grateful Harry almost thought Malfoy would hug him, but after a moment Malfoy’s face returned to its usual emotionless expression. “Thank you, Potter,” Malfoy said.

Harry sighed. “You should go home and get some rest. Just tell me what time lunch is tomorrow.”

Malfoy raised his eyebrows. “You really thought it would be that easy?” Malfoy shook his head. “We’re going to have to stay up all night learning everything an engaged couple would know about each other. Also, we should start calling each other by our first names.” Malfoy paused a second then said, “Harry.” His lips quirked up in an almost smile.

“Draco,” Harry said, and Draco’s smile grew to full size.

They spent hours taking, covering everything from each other’s  favorite Quidditch moves to their least favorite fruit. Harry and Draco found themselves laughing near constantly, and whenever Draco laughed, Harry’s heart felt like a weight had been lifted off of it.

Around midnight, Draco decided it was time for a hot cocoa break and took the time to teach Harry the ‘proper’ way to fix hot cocoa. They were settling back on Harry’s couch when Draco asked Harry about his childhood. Harry could’ve lied, but he didn’t want to lie, not to Draco.

After confessing the horrors of his childhood, Harry was surprised to find Draco’s arms around him, as Draco was hugging him tightly and saying, “You deserve so much better, Harry.”

“Well, what about your childhood?” Harry asked. Harry was once again surprised, this time by Draco’s openness and honesty. He discovered that Draco’s childhood wasn’t all fairytales and rainbows either.

If what Harry was feeling for Draco the night before could be called a crush, then by morning that crush had blossomed into full-blown romantic passion.

Draco had fallen asleep next to Harry on the couch around four in the morning and now, four hours later, Harry shook him awake. When Draco first awoke he seemed confused and frazzled, but when he saw Harry he smiled a sleepy smile. “Hi. Sorry, I didn’t mean to fall asleep.”

“It’s okay. I fell asleep for awhile too.”

“What time is it?”


Draco nodded in understanding. “Are there any more questions we have to do?”

“Just one, I think. What happened with your fiancés? I mean, you’re pretty much amazing, so it’s hard for me to believe they’d just walk off without any reason.”

Draco grimaced. “I don’t know. I’m the perfect guy: wealthy, attractive, intelligent, witty, attractive.”

Harry chuckled at Draco’s repetition of ‘attractive’. “Well, were you in love with them?”

Draco shook his head vehemently, as if that was the most outrageous thing he’d ever heard. “My parents always told me that love was something that would develop after marriage.”

Harry frowned. “That’s not true. Love doesn’t have any rules. You can fall in love before getting married or after getting married, though most people prefer to be in love before marriage.”


“I guess so that you know you won’t be spending the rest of your life with someone who doesn’t, uh, complete you or whatever.”


“You’re strange,” Harry said defensively.

Draco laughed and hit Harry with a decorative pillow, kickstarting a pillow fight full of giggles and smiles and lifted spirits.

Another thing that was strange was that Draco’s parents didn’t even seem surprised when they found out that Draco’s new ‘fiancé’ was Harry Potter. So unsurprised, in fact, that they hardly interrogated the couple at all.

Halfway through the soup course, Harry leaned toward Draco and said to him, “This is going well.”

“Yes,” Draco agreed. A little too well, in Draco’s opinion.

So when Narcissa left the table to reset the fireplace’s fire charms, Draco joined her. Draco stoked the fire as his mother cast the charms.

“You’re acting different,” Draco said in a hushed tone to his mother. “You and Father. You’re usually much more… intense when meeting someone I bring home.”

Narcissa simply smiled at her son. “That’s because you’re acting different too. You and Harry seem so happy together. I know I used to tell you love would develop after marriage, but I’m glad that you and Harry have found love already. That doesn’t happen often. Hold on to him, Draco.”

Narcissa walked back to the table and Draco’s eyes followed her before focusing on Harry, who was slurping his soup in a most undignified manner. Draco smiled at the sight, and in a rare vulnerable moment, thought to himself that if he and Harry were truly engaged, maybe that would be the engagement that stuck.

❝ You are my paradise ❞

Plot: You and Yoongi fight and he says he hates you. So you decide to give him the silent treatment, but he tries everything to make you talk to him again.

Words count: 5,5k+

Pairing: Yoongi x Reader 

Genre: Fluff 

For anon, I hope you like it cutie! 


Originally posted by seokjins-wings

The thump of the door closed behind your shoulder was the noise that welcomed your return home for more than three weeks.  

The door closed behind your boyfriend without you having time to greet him or spend a few minutes with him.  

At every comeback the situation worsened, you knew at the beginning of your relationship and you remember it again after almost two years. But this time there was something different and you couldn’t understand. Your mind completely filled with thoughts, which annoyed you without interruption.  

The first few days you hadn’t noticed the difference, but now it was impossible not to notice. Don’t notice those little details. Like the absence of his good morning kiss or the complete disappearance during the day, without a simple message or even a quick phone call.  

Your chest was crushed under the weight of the consciousness that you would spend the umpteenth evening alone, with your dog trying to cheer you up and some melancholy song in the background. In short, the dream of every girl of 24 years for her evenings.. Especially when they have a boyfriend.  

“Hello to you too..” Your hissing scattered in the air and your little cub of Jack Russell, the dear and adored Agust D, began chasing his own tail to draw your attention. “Hello puppy,” you whispered gently, lowering and running your fingers on his short and soft fur.  

He barked with happiness but you couldn’t prove any spirit of sharing. Yoongi had disappeared for the umpteenth evening and this began to dig into your heart a bigger hole that was scaring you. In ways that you never thought possible, a fear that couldn’t be explained.  

Since the evening was ruined, you dragged your feet to your room and changed into something more comfortable. The pajamas, a beautiful zebra printed pajamas, was the best solution.  

What could be better than warmth and softness and comfort?? You knew it, but you ignored to say the answer aloud otherwise your mood would have worsened further.  

“D, what do you want to do??”  

The puppy started barking, hopping around the house and dragging behind a little plush, making you smile slightly. At least someone in that house was happy, you found yourself thinking.  

The kitchen, the second place where you were more comfortable after the bed, greeted you as you lit the lights and started thinking about what to eat. You weren’t starving, but from that morning you hadn’t touched food and knowing if you skipped another meal, you would have fainted at the least opportune moment.  


“Hyung sent you some bibimpap and the cabbage kimchi, they’re in the refrigerator.”  

Yoongi’s raspy voice caught you unprepared because you would never have expected to hear it so soon. Thinking that now your mind was playing with your mind to make you believe that everything went well, you wouldn’t turn around and keep looking at the various packs of ramen you kept in the cabinet. For any eventuality, of course.  

Yoongi remained on the doorstep of the kitchen, astonished by the fact that you had totally ignored him. He was back to ask if you wanted to spend the evening with him in the studio because he knew.  

He knew it was going on as always, that he was neglecting you and letting you go. Just as he knew that it couldn’t happen every time, despite living well with that situation your heart suffered the consequences. He had spent whole months to make you really trust him, months that were also useless to him to trust at least a bit of you, and every time he walked away he knew that he cracked that trust. That pushed you to think the worst.  

But now he was there, in the same room, and you didn’t even spare a look to him. And he had to admit that it hurt, but without understanding that it was the feelings that you felt every single time you came home.  

It was the first mistake of the evening.  

He cleared his voice again, but your attention was still focused on your choice.  



The pack between your hands fell to the ground while you jumped, facing him and following your gaze you noticed him on the door. His annoyed look and the arms folded across his chest.  

The dark circles under his eyes, the black beanie and that fringe that now almost covered his eyelids, his clenched jaw, his black irises that seemed somewhat darker. He didn’t seem very happy and you wondered if his feelings could reflect your own.  

“S-sorry.. I was thinki–”  

“What did you think? Ignore me,” he took off the beanie throwing it on the table, “it wasn’t pleasant for me. ”  

You scoffed, feeling the skepticism open a gap in your mind. Really feeling ignored was unpleasant? You’d want to tell him he was welcome in your world, but you’d bite your tongue. A fight was the last thing your mind already full of negativity could endure.  

Agust D, feeling that something was about to happen, began to wander near Yoongi’s feet, but he ignored him and didn’t wash his gaze away from you.  

And you felt vulnerable. Under the indifference and repressed anger that those dark irises were showing clearly. The phone on the table gave a sound and you wanted to hide behind it while avoiding the way he was looking at you. 

And that was the second mistake of the evening.
The moment you stood out your arm to grasp it, something snapped into Yoongi’s mind.  

“Are you kidding? Y/N; I’m talking to you!”  

With your arm in mid-air, you froze and turn your head towards him, observing how the rage was transforming his lines. Angry, but for what? You couldn’t understand, in fact, you weren’t the wrong one.  


“And I came here to ask you to come with me. But apparently, my presence isn’t welcome. ”  

And that was the third mistake of the evening.  

Your arm fell limp, the strength with which you kept him lifted completely erased from your body. The tears threatened to burn on your cheeks, but forcefully you chased them back and swallowed the knot in your throat that had formed in a few seconds.  

“It’s a shame that your presence is an ephemeral thing in these weeks. Since you’re never here and you don’t even deem to recognize the fact that I exist and live in this apartment.”  

The air frozen, you saw him inhaled sharply and with your body, you turned towards him. You felt every part of you tense like a string of a violin, your heart was beating so hard to press against your ribcage as it wanted to get out and run away but you were so tired of his attitude that you had exceeded the limit.  

Yoongi looked at you, his mind now completely fogged. He couldn’t figure out why he was wrong, but everyone knew that anger provokes and makes the worst out of any person.  

With quick steps he came up to you, you knew he could never hurt you, but you stepped back and lifted your hand.  

And that hand, open and slightly trembling, was the only stop for Yoongi. He stopped mid-way, feeling his throat going on fire for the desire to yell at you and the bile corrode his chest. He felt hurt, but he didn’t understand how intense your feelings of loneliness and abandonment were. You didn’t feel anymore that feeling of belonging and it was a feeling that you had hoped never to try.  

“Now I understand why everyone ends up hating you, Y/N.”  

And perhaps that was the worst mistake of the evening.  

Your heart took a note of his words, which with hatred were putting their seed. Yes, many people you had given everything had ended up leaving.  

Making you feel like you were the mistake, the wrong side of the story. But Yoongi.. You never thought he could use your past against you.  

Even the fact that was the anger to make him talk was an excuse. He had no excuse.  

“Goodnight, Yoongi,” you hummed and walked out of the kitchen, avoiding touching him as you passed by. The dog followed you, his ears low and the tail between his short and thin legs.  

He knew, unlike his master, how much you were suffering. He perceived it. Yoongi stood in the center of the kitchen, his gaze pointed where you were standing before. His hands began to tremble, but the error he had just made not yet clear for his mind gripped by anger.  

With a sigh, he stepped out of the room and then stormed out of the house, saying that if that was your way of dealing with a discussion, he wouldn’t have been the mature part in the couple.  

The bed greeted your tired body when you threw yourself on it and the sound of the door didn’t surprise you. Sighing you lured your pillow towards you, hiding your face against the soft material and letting the waves of pain begin to hit you. And you collapsed, slowly, accompanied by tears and the first real wound that Yoongi had dealt you.  


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Not Northside Material - Part 5

Originally posted by stilinskikissme

A/N: BUCKLE URSELF IN BC I HATE MYSELF FOR THIS! I have so much love and respect for anyone who is still here and reading this, y’all are the real bros and I Love You All. As always hmu with that good good feedback, I live for anything you guys have to say (i check all my reblogs for tags, people put the best shit in tags I swear)

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 6 / Part 7

Summary: Sweet Pea manages to piss off Toni, have an important epiphany, and ruin his own happiness all in the span of a day. Talented boy.

Words: 2,549

Warnings: Serpents, Swears, Pain (if u listen close u can hear me break my own heart)

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in-relative-time  asked:

Hi, I just saw your post about having legitimate complaints about TLJ... I haven't seen it yet, but was wondering what your complaints were (and whether it's worth me spending my money going to see it). I'm not bothered by spoilers.

good evening dear! to make things easy, i’m just gonna make one hugeass post and do a bullet list.

  • no consistency to story-telling
    • you wanna add new force powers? fine! great! but keep them consistent!
      • yoda appears to tell luke that the jedi are garbage & should end ( yoda???? of all people???? instead of someone who would actually think that given personal experience, like, y’know, ANAKIN )
        • also somehow yoda can call down lightning and cause real-world damage to a tree by setting it ablaze? why hasn’t yoda or obi-wan or anakin literally just come down and stop the order by doing something like this if they can literally control nature from the afterlife????
      • someone ( leia )…. with no proper force training…. can somehow defy…. dying in space? and also project themselves through space while barely conscious?
      • rian seems to want to keep this narrative of ‘evERYonE caN HAve ThE foRCe’ but when given the chance to make one of three kids force-sensitive, one kid being a black boy, one a white girl, and one a white boy, in a series where we have leading white female and black male protagonists and a white male villain………. somehow rian decided it was best to give the white boy the force? in a trilogy where the leAD CHARACTER IS A FEMALE AND ONE OF THE LEADING MALES IS A BLACK MAN?????????? GROUNDBREAKING
      • snoke connected rey and kyle via force skyping, but if his whole goal was to just……….. get rey to come to the supremacy after he manipulated her to believe in kyle’s redemption, like….. why do all that shit. why not just….. read her mind. clearly he can influence people and affect people from long distances so what the fuck why would he bother with that weird force bond shit. like if vader can fucking force choke a guy over a video conference, i don’t see why it’s that much more of a stretch to just have snoke read rey’s mind or manipulate her without using kyle
      • luke fucking astral projecting himself onto crait, despite not knowing they were on crait, after shutting himself off from the force like 10 years prior to tlj– somehow he’s able to hold a long-term projection of himself to taunt kyle and buy time for the fleeing resistance? and then, at the end, he just….. gives up and dies? becomes one with the force? ???????
  • lame foreshadowing/repetition
    • so, when kyle and rey’s first skype session goes live, kyle makes a point of asking rey if she was causing this, this almost astral projection skype convo from light years away, only to say ‘no….. the strain would kill you.’ cue the end of the movie, where it’s revealed luke was just projecting himself all along, and…. he dies.
    • there’s also this scene where luke asks rey what the force is, and being inexperienced in it, she makes a comment about it being about making things float. luke says no, everything you said is not-true– its not about making rocks float, ( which is then brought back as a concept at the very end of the movie, when rey has to float rocks to free the resistance from the caves they ran into, again, bad foreshadowing. ) this is then brought back later when astral luke is facing off with kyle, and kyle says something about destroying the resistance and the jedi…. only for luke to, verbatim, say what he said to rey about every word he said being not-true.
  • this almost bashing it into our heads notion of ‘kill the past, it’s only holding you back’ that’s mentioned by kyle, that seems to be the central thread– the past is just that, the past. it’s time to completely ignore it and never look back. it’s time to wipe away the misty-eyed wonders of your hero worship of your childhood… the reality is that people fuck up and your heroes are nothing and in the end we all die, jan. ( what a fun, hopeful message. )
    • but with this message, this idea of all your heroes are dead and don’t even think of people as heroes because that’s just unrealistic and you’ll be disappointed when they fuck up because we’re all human :))) – with that message we’re then meant to leave the theater somehow emboldened because luke took up the mantle of being a legend in the end…. even though there’s no reason he should be considered one when the only people who witness this astral fight technically are kyle and the first order– the resistance didn’t watch because they were trying to escape through the base’s tunnels with the time luke was buying them. so we’re supposed to treat luke as a legend now….. or are we supposed to hate this idea of hero worship? i’m getting mixed signals.
  • literally everything built up in tfa…. rey’s parents/backstory, snoke’s history/why the resistance even knows about him, why kyle became evil, why rey was able to call the lightsaber over him, why luke exiled himself but left a map………… so many questions to be answered! and tfa laid out a beautiful table for johnson to sit down at and serve dinner.
    • only johnson decided to say fuck you, fuck your dinner, fuck everything you thought about this movie because it doesn’t matter
      • rey’s parents? nobodies– drunkards. sold their daughter into literal slavery for drinking money.
      • snoke’s backstory? doesn’t fucking matter if we hyped him up as more dangerous than vader or palpatine– he’s dead now because he apparently couldn’t sense kyle about to kill him. the man can bond two people across light years of distance, but he doesn’t notice the lightsaber that’s slowly being turned towards him? hm.
      • why is rey so strong with the force? because it belongs to everyone and not the elite skywalkers who literally came from slavery so fuck you for that too
      • luke’s exile? because he felt bad about considering killing his nephew when he probed his mind and felt he was completely evil. luke skywalker considered killing his nephew, the son of his twin sister, son of his best friend– let that sink in.
      • kyle’s evil…. but he’s good, right? there’s good in him? or not. for someone who rian says we can all relate with ( sorry but i don’t relate with fascists :/ ) he made it pretty clear that he wanted kyle to be the end all be all villain by the end of 8. so ??????
        • also why is kyle so obsessed with vader? what the fuck? guess what? you don’t get to know. fuck you again.
  • character assassination / regression
    • luke was……… not luke. clearly. mark hamill has said it’s not luke. that’s more than a bit telling.
    • rey’s whole story literally revolved around following luke around ahch-to while learning jack shit only to then follow kyle around trying to say there’s still good in him. ( another fun fact rian……… luke only was willing to forgive vader when he realized that was his dad. why would rey feasibly trust her abuser / han’s murderer / man who put finn into a coma so quickly unless maybe they had a prior connection, particularly familial? )
    • finn was turned into a joke, called a coward, called selfish, tased by rose, slapped by hux……. like finn had literally no character progression at all.
    • poe went from well-decorated commander of the resistance, former officer with the new republic, to hot-headed flyboy who doesn’t take orders and just needs to learn from his white superiors :)))) like……………… do i even need to say it
    • leia was practically non-existent, and when she was, she slapped poe and later shot at him, stunning him. which, she…. y’know………. never did to han.
    • chewie and r2 were literally there as props, don’t even try and tell me otherwise. r2 showed luke leia’s hologram back from anh as a means to like…. spur him into action, but??? luke literally did nothing as well even after that?
    • lack of lando. can i include that? rian said he ‘wanted’ to include lando but he ‘wouldn’t work’ so i think rian just owes me money for having to even try to comprehend his bullshit
    • hux??? y’know, the fascist general with that terrifying speech before he decimated an entire star system? that hux? he’s just comic relief now. :)
      • he even has a ‘your mom’ joke thrown at him which is super funny when you remember he’s a bastard and never knew his birth mom so like #goodwriting
    • kyle is redeemable now!! even though he’s shown no remorse and has already been offered the chance to redeem himself but he took the opportunity to say ‘fuck you’ and kill han so…. ignore all that, ignore the fact that he’s a fascist leader and massacred children and countless others………….. his uncle tried to kill him so he must be in the right :)))
    • phasma…. you liked phasma? strong villain woman? yeah, well, watch the most unsatisfying fight that ends in finn winning purely by luck because she falls down into a firey pit. mmmmmm that sure was satisfying? :/
  • regular star wars rules need not apply?
    • bombs can just be dropped in space because gravity exists in the vacuum of the stars apparently
      • but a body on a blown-open bridge can remain on the bridge instead of getting sucked out into space….?
    • a slow-speed ship chase where one ship is running out of fuel? cinematic gold, apparently
    • for some reason the first order ships chasing the resistance couldn’t have just….. sped up their ships a bit and plowed them over / took them out with tie fighters for no other reason but….. it wouldn’t be convenient that way?

there’s a lot more than this but i’m tired and should have gone to bed hours ago, so i’ll probably just reblog this sometime tomorrow and add more, but here’s this for starters!

Refuse to be a decent human? Lose your house.

Warning: Very long story.

It’s 2011, my boyfriend and I decided to rent a house with our best friends - an engaged couple with two kids. I’m changing names here: I’m Kylie, my boyfriend is Jim, and our couple friends are Brad and Angelina. Jim, Brad, and myself are active duty military.

After over a month of searching we found a really cute house- 1850 sqft, nice yard, great neighbors, only $1350/m, hardwood except for 1 room, 7 minutes from our base. The landlord is in a different state but tells us she pays one of the neighbors to manage the keys for her. It’s a military town and that’s not uncommon. We all met up with him, toured the house, decided to sign the lease.

We moved in sometime in August. We liked the house, but there were crickets coming into one of the bedrooms through a crack in the window sill. The landlord didn’t want to fix it and said to caulk it. It worked, no problem.

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anonymous asked:

have you ever thought about how, raised as a pureblood, Draco can probably (definitely) play an instrument? imagine him practicing violin or piano (there's gotta be at least one in the castle) and harry hearing him and its breathtakingly beautiful??

((well i most certainly fucking have now!!!!))
Notes: the pieces I listened to as inspiration are linked here and here in the order they are played in the fic

“No, you don’t understand.  Malfoy was playing a violin.  A real one,” Harry said breathlessly.

“What year is it?” Ron asked without looking up from his chess game.


“Oh, you know, just wondering in I’ve woken up in my 6th year.  Who cares what he’s doing.  I’m glad he’s got a hobby.  At least it gets the little grey rain cloud himself out of here.  Bringing down the mood of the entire common room, that one,” Ron said.  Once Hermione moved her knight, Ron looked up at Harry.  “Why are you so worked up about it that you’d run up, what? Half a dozen staircases just to tell us?”

Harry was stumped.  Why did it matter so much to him?  But he couldn’t just drop it. “Where did he get the violin though? I’ve never seen him with one and we’ve been sharing a room all year.”

Hermione scoffed, “You just said you were in the music room.”

“So the Frog Choir decorates with instruments no one plays for the aesthetic?” Harry asked. 

“It’s been how many years and you’ve never read Hogwarts: A History? I don’t know whether to be insulted or offended,” Hermione said. “In the footnotes of chapter fifty-seven, it’s mentioned that they ended most of the music courses gradually making room for more popular and expensive areas of interest like quidditch and potions. Of course, even in the wizarding world it’s always the arts that suffer first.”

“Checkmate,” Ron said.

“Really?” Hermione said.

“Sorry, I stopped listening at A History” Ron said, smiling at her even when she shoved a hand against his shoulder. “Really, Harry, music lessons are super common in the richer families up until the kids get Hogwarts age.  It’s usually less about how well their brats can play and more about who has the most expensive unicorn hair bow or the flute made entirely out of occamy eggshells.  I’d bet most of the purebloods here can play recognizable tunes on something.”

It was much more than a recognizable tune that Malfoy played.  Harry didn’t even recognize it. It was more than a child’s long abandoned music lesson.

“Yeah, I reckon you’re right.  I’ll leave it alone,” Harry said. Then he walked away, leaving his friends to reset their chessboard.

Harry pretended he didn’t hear Ron ask Hermione he’s going back to watch him, isn’t he? and he certainly didn’t rejoin his friends when Hermione said of course.

When Harry made it back down to the music room he was relieved to hear Draco was still playing.  It wasn’t just the sound that struck him, it was everything. It was captivating from the way Malfoy stood to the look on his face as he played with his eyes closed. He’s not even looking at the music. People memorize things like this? 

The music seemed to go a bit off for a moment.  Malfoy huffed in frustration and looked down at the music spread out in front of him.  Then he started over from a few seconds before the music went wrong.  This time his eyes were focused on the sheets, his brow furrowed.  Harry couldn’t help staring at Malfoy’s hands. It was hard to see with Malfoy standing in profile, but the way his fingers moved across the strings or the way he held the bow looked so elegant and unreal. He wondered how someone’s hand could move like that without dropping the bloody thing; the amount of movement in his bow hand was baffling to Harry.

The music went a bit off again.

“Damn it,” Malfoy whispered.

Watching Malfoy was so strange.  One second he seemed hauntingly beautiful…well, the music. The music was hauntingly beautiful. But with each mistake, his face changed to something so real.  Harry couldn’t remember Malfoy ever looking so human.  He couldn’t imagine Draco acknowledging a mistake in front of anyone, let alone get so fixated on it. 

Harry listened on, silently hoping Malfoy would be able to do whatever it was he was trying to do.  He could watch this side of Malfoy for hours.  Not that he would do that, of course. That would be insane.  Harry was so caught by the music that the sound of Malfoy slamming the book closed with an exaggerated sigh made him flinch. 

Instead of setting the violin aside, Malfoy took a deep breath and started playing something else.  It sounded like he started in the middle of a song.  This song was so different from the first one.  He looked so different playing it.

Only moments into the song Malfoy said, “I don’t do well with distractions.”

He isn’t talking to me, is he?! Harry thought.

“One mustn’t lurk in doorways; it’s rude.  One might question your upbringing,” Malfoy said, continuing to play. “Come in and be a proper audience or go away.”

Shit! Harry steadied himself and entered the music room. He took a seat a couple rows away from where Malfoy played.  

Turning to look at Harry, Malfoy said, “If you say anything about this, I’ll deny everything.”

“It will be our secret,” Harry said. He didn’t realize then, but it would be their first of many.

spoiler alert.

Originally posted by xendozo

(joe keery x reader)

request: oh oh oh! Joe Keery meets Y/N when being interviewed and she’s like the camera woman or something and he invites her out on the town with the rest of the older cast and it’s drinks and love, you know! And Y/N ends up at Joe’s hotel room

summary: of course you and joe would bond over something as dumb as spoiling movies and tv shows you’ve (mostly) already seen to each other. weirdly enough, it also kind of is a massive turn on for joe. huh.

word count: 4, 532

a/n: so there are a lot of spoilers in here, but none for stranger things (go figure). but here are the movies and shows that are: star wars episode v, star wars episode vii, fight club, the handmaid’s tale, game of thrones, the sixth sense, 30 rock, harry potter and the halfblood prince. 

At least once a month, you post a picture of you wearing an all black outfit on Instagram with the caption let’s play a game called production blacks or emo (or a variation of that incredibly worn out joke). When you’re filming a live event, it’s all black, even down to your shoes. You can’t count the number of times that you’ve thrown on black sneakers, only to notice that they’ve got a white stripe down the sides. Which means running around the venue, trying to find some black duct tape or a black Sharpie to color it in.

In your college classes, you can remember multiple professors drilling it into your brain - people behind the camera should be invisible, to blend in with the background so everyone forgets that you’re there. On sets with scripted content, it’s a different story. But for anything else, you’ve got to be background noise. And you’re fine with that. There’s a kind of comfort that comes with being able to just settle into the background and watch the action go on around you.

Which is why it’s so unnerving when he noticed you.

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S is for Serpents not Slut

Originally posted by riverdalesource

Part 1 | Part 2

Pairing: Sweet Pea x Reader

Description: Y/N gets messed up with Ghoulies and Sweet Pea tries everything he can to protect her. Will it be enough, though?

Prompt: 1. ‘Back off, Serpent slut.’ + 24. ‘Stay away from the Ghoulies at all costs.’

Warnings: Swearing and fighting. 

Word count: 2323

A/N: For @tailsbeth-writes writing challenge. This is my first challenge and the first I write for Sweet Pea, hope you like it! 

Tag: @southsidejuggie @ju-gg @lostnliterature  Let me know if you still want to be tagged on future work. And if anyone wants to be added to the tag list :)

Y/N is in Southside High’s library with her head stuck in a book. She’s made quite a good friendship with the librarian, so the woman let’s her stay in late. Pages are flying as she’s reading as fast as possible since the story is almost ending. However, the lights go off, something that doesn’t usually happen on nights she stays in. She walks out confused - anybody who sees her can tell she’s a bit scared, for the Black Hood is still out there and she has her fair share of sin. Noises are coming from down the hall. It’s not the smartest thing, but she carefully walks towards them. Y/N spots three ghouls standing over a boy whose face is covered in blood. She only recognizes him because of the unique beanie he wears. Something comes over her and she rushes to stop them. Y/N stands dangerously close to the stronger one that’s laughing at what his accomplices are doing. “Stop.” She doesn’t have to shout to get their attention, but there sure is some demand on her tone. The surprise of it makes them switch focus to her, leaving the beat-up boy twitching slightly at the pain. 

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this is the photography!harry piece based off of this request:  

hello! can you do where harry is a photographer and he needs a model for an upcoming project or something so he asks y/n since he couldn’t find anyone. and during that process, both developed feelings towards one another.

Y/N liked to sit alone in the dining room. She didn’t like to watch people eat or have others watch her eat. And, she definitely wasn’t a fan of small talk. Or talking at all. She didn’t like it because she wasn’t good at it. She wasn’t good at it because she didn’t do it. She didn’t do it because she didn’t like it. It was a vicious cycle, really. 

This wasn’t to say that she didn’t have any friends because she did. Those who bothered to stick it out past her social awkwardness and the unnecessarily high walls she built around herself usually were there for life. Said friends, however, refused to wait for her to get out of class and went to eat somewhere else without her. Since she didn’t have a car she was left to fend for herself in the dining room. Which she didn’t mind as long as she was left alone. 

Apparently Harry Styles didn’t get the memo. He was this real sweet kid she saw around in the arts department a lot. They were both fine arts majors, but she specialised in painting and sketching while he specialised in photography. In their first couple years they had a few general ed classes together, so she was friendly whenever they came into contact with each other but they weren’t friends. That was why his sudden presence at her table was so perplexing. They were wave from across the hall close not sit with each other at lunch close.
She looked up from her plate, slowly finishing a mouthful of carbonara, eyeing him suspiciously. “How… may I help you?”

He flashed a big, bright smile at her which was honestly a bit off-putting. “How are you doing, beautiful?”

“I’m fine… just, ya know, trying to get some ATP.” He looked at her with a blank expression. “Adenosine triphosphate… Like, cellular energy… that comes from– ya know what? Never mind. I’m a nerd. Why are you trying to butter me up?”

He sighed. “I know we don’t talk often.” She raised an eyebrow at him. “…Or, at all, but I need to ask you for a favour.”

She patted around her mouth with a napkin in an attempt to stall time. She wondered why he couldn’t ask one of the other million people he knew. Why did it have to be her? Why couldn’t her friends have waited for her to get out of class? She figured hearing him out wouldn’t be the worst thing ever, though. “Well, I can’t guarantee I’ll do it, but what is it?”

“I’m working on a project, and I need a model. My last one flaked out on me.”

Her eyebrows drew together. “Why?”

“She found out I wasn’t paying,” he pouted.

She puckered her lips. “Oh. Sorry.”

“It’s fine. Anyway, I’m doing, like, a modern recreation of renaissance art. And, I really really really need your help.”

She squinted her eyes at him. There had to be something he wasn’t telling her. She was more than certain that he could convince any other girl to model for him. She knew at least three girls who had a legitimate crush on him, five girls who wanted to get in his pants, and really any living creature could be charmed into doing it once he batted his eyes in their direction. The dude was beautiful. “What aren’t you telling me, Styles?”

He winced at the question before blowing raspberries into the air. “Are you… familiar with… The Birth of Venus and Venus of Urbino?”

“Of course I am,” she responded immediately. When he didn’t say anything, she thought back over what he just asked her until the gears in her brain were fully turning. Her eyes widened. “You want me to pose nude?” she whisper shouted. 

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anonymous asked:

Can you do a headcanon or whatever it's called about the MC spamming Saeran messages until he replies? I just played the April fools DLC and thought it was funny that you had the option to say "why did you never answer me after the prologue, unknown?" Lol

A/N: Sorry Saeran, babe, time to be annoyed

wow okay this is horrible and im sorry like i had an idea for it and the idea just.. flew right out of the fucking window idk what happened but i hope??? this makes you laugh even a little bit


It had been 5 days since some mysterious guy texted you and coaxed you into this apartment- practically slapping you in the middle of this group who keep calling themselves the RFA. They seemed to be on edge and wary of you, which is understandable- but you couldn’t answer their questions. They wanted to know where you came from, what you wanted, but you couldn’t give any answers, hell, you couldn’t get any answers of your own!

There was only one text. One from this ‘Unknown’ person, who basically said the fun would start now. But what fun? What did they want from you? What did they expect you to do here, with these people… surely they didn’t lure you here just so you could make new friends and suddenly do charity work.

You’ve had enough, it was time to get some answers.

You picked up your phone, scrolling through the messages to find Unknown’s at the bottom.

The last text was from you, moments after being thrown into a RFA chat room, asking who the hell he was. Wow, MC, you’re really trusting, aren’t you. Sure, going to some strangers apartment and breaking in, what a good idea. You were starting to think that picture he sent you was fake, too. Taking a deep breath, you braced yourself to text him, not giving up until you got an answer. Hovering your thumbs over the keyboard, you decided to approach this casually.

“Don’t leave me on read you bitch”

Smooth, MC, real smooth. So casual, good job.

“I didn’t mean to call you bitch, autocorrect”

Nice save!

“Sooo… what’s up?”

You waited about an hour with still no response, but you didn’t let that discourage you.

“Anyway, so I had a sandwich today, that was pretty good. You ate, right?”

“Even if you only had a snack, that’s good too.”

“I like sandwiches. Do you like sandwiches?”

Another few hours went by with no reply and now you were just angry.

“Okay, I’m not playing anymore. Who are you?”

“Why am I here?”

“What do you want from me?”

“Who’s apartment is this! Is it yours? Am I going to find your clothes in this closet?”

“…am… am I going to find a body in this closet?”

A few of the members were in a chat room, you decided to break and talk with them. Maybe you’d come back to some texts!

No new messages

Son of a bitch.

It was time to up your game. What could you do? What would catch this guys attention?

You found a ton of text messages you could copy and paste- making sure they were full of emojis and sexual innuendos, like those holiday ones that go around.

Nothing? It’s been a whole day now- what was his problem? Professional at leaving you on read? Fine- you’ll just have to rest tonight and try again tomorrow.

For the next few days, you spent all of your free time texting Unknown a bunch of random things you’ve thought of, as if his texts were your diary. You even sent him the entire Bee Movie script- 27 times! Nothing! No messages! Nothing at all!

You took to writing down every swear word you knew. Anything you could call him- you did. Anything nice you could compliment him on, you did. Anything you could possibly imagine to ask randomly, you did.

“Do you think cats have feelings?”

“Woah, bitch, wait, do you think pigeons get sad because they don’t have ears?”

“Do pigeons listen to Metallica?”

Finally, you gave up- this was your last resort.




“U” “N” “K” “N” “O” “W” “N”

Suddenly, your phone lit up with a call- you didn’t hesitate to hit answer.

“Oh my GOD, WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU. DAYS. IT’S BEEN DAYS. YOU HAVE TEXTED ME UTTER NONSENSE FOR DAYS. What is wrong with you? What do you want?! What the fuck is your problem?! I wish I could turn my phone off just to fucking ignore you, but I can’t! I have to deal with message after message from you! I wish I could block your number but I fucking CAN’T! Text me again and I swear to GOD I will come over there, and it will be the last thing you ever do!”

After his rant, he hung up the phone and you sat in the middle of the bed, staring into space. You didn’t get any of the answers you wanted, but at least now you knew he got your messages in the first place. About ten minutes later, you snapped out of your trance and looked down at your phone.

“Hey Unknown, you’ve got a nice voice”

“I’m going to fucking end you.”