sorry just bringing back all the feels

Character Headcanon: Poor Master Dennet

You know, I always feel a little sorry for Master Dennet. The Inquisitor is like, hey, I need a horse expert! Here is a horse expert! And he comes along to be your horse expert.

And for a while all is well. He brings his own fine horses, and the Inquisitor adds to the stable as she finds new breeding stock–often excellent. Where she got the charger from, he doesn’t know, and he feels too honored by having it in his care to ask.

And then the Inquisitor starts coming back with like… deer. And Dennet scratches his head, because he knows horses, and just because it has four hooves and you can put a saddle on it doesn’t make it a horse. Hell, the food and space and exercise requirements for a cob and a draft horse aren’t the same–a goddamn deer is presumably completely different. But he goes around Skyhold rounding up Dalish elves until he finds one who knew something about halla, on the principle that that’s probably the closest thing, and they work it out. (He’s always respected the way Dalish treat their halla, so it’s not that big of a leap. And even though Dalish–the Charger–doesn’t know anything much about how to raise halla, he looks the other way when she wants to spend half a day in the deer’s box stall being all affectionate at it. Can’t hurt.)

But deer of various kinds are at least still… well… grass-eating hoofed animals. Things don’t begin to really go sideways until they bring back the first dracolisk.

It’s a lizard. It’s a giant meat-eating lizard. Dennet is a master of horse, and he will stretch that to deer in a pinch, but asking him to figure out the care and feeding of big spiky lizard things is a bit much. It is–he tries to explain, first to Cullen and then to Josephine and finally to the Inquisitor herself–as if someone had decided that because you knew how to knead bread, you were obviously a master pugilist, because both things involved punching things. For his trouble he got a friendly clap on the shoulder and a “Just do your best! We can free up some funds to hire you more help!” (help from where? was he to hang up fliers somewhere for dracolisk handlers? where exactly was one supposed to go for that?).

(We will not even discuss the zombie horse with a sword through its head. We will not. The zombie horse got a stall to itself and was studiously ignored, on the principle that it was dead, and not much Dennet did could either help or hurt it.)

Dennet knew that he was in over his head and then some when the Inquisitor showed up with a charming grin and a giant fucking nug, and all he thought was, “Better see if any dwarves know what to feed it.” (Dagna does, but he’s a little afraid because she keeps having these ideas for ‘experimental feed,’ and….)

At least his life is never boring.

anonymous asked:

What up with taylor swifts feminism?

There are a lot of articles on this which describe it a lot better than I would so here are some:

“And, in actuality, her squad flouts inclusive feminist principles by being an exclusive club, and seems to skew overwhelmingly white, slim, and heterosexual – and this is because Swift views feminism in relation to her own personal experience alone.”

“When Minaj pressed her to say something about the systematic exclusion of black women from recognition at awards shows, the best Swift had to offer was “come on stage with me if I win.”

“If female empowerment was really so important to Swift as a pop star, she’d bring to the stage her astrophysicist friends, she’d have an all-female backing band like Charli XCX, she’d give speeches about intersectionality instead of “how to not feel damaged,”

“when she does speak out on important issues, it’s usually only when they affect, or have affected, her or her predominantly white group of friends.”

“Lauding Swift’s legal victory and subsequent statement as evidence of her advocacy for sexual assault victims is puzzling, considering she wouldn’t even denounce the presidential candidate accused of it.” 

Swift has admitted that her feminist awakening came just a couple years ago, via Lena Dunham. She’s probably still in the phase of her own feminism where she thinks women should be on the same team by default, except when they cross her badly enough to warrant a diss track.

“She remains silent on the current political climate, she most likely planned to leverage the publicity around her sexual assault countersuit, and she’s still perpetuating the narrative that she, an innocent white girl, is being demonized by a vicious black man.” 

“So basically, she’s gathering a group of women to tear down another woman — exactly what she has accused Katy Perry of doing. That irony was lost on none of us.”

“While Swift’s “enemy” Katy Perry marched and campaigned and stood tall for the women and girls, while her chief competition in Rihanna defended abortion rights and defiantly identified as pro-choice, while Miley Cyrus wore head-to-toe pink on national television, Swift did not. Why was she not at the rallies? Why was she not publicly supporting women? Why was she so… quiet?”

“That is to say, the biggest problem with “Wildest Dreams” is that it isn’t. It isn’t a wild dream. It’s a direct representation of historical accuracy: the colonization of Africa, through the eyes of the colonizer.

“t]he romanticization of an era of white domination (through violent conquest [and] genocide) because of beautiful aesthestic.”

i hate you, i love you. (m) | 01

PT.1 | PT.2 | Drabbles

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader 

Genre: Angst/Smut

Description: You hated him at seven, warmed up to him at twelve, and liked him at fifteen. Now the two of you are twenty years old and inseparable best friends… and you’re absolutely in love with him; he’s in love too—just not with you. 

Word Count: 10,389

cr.


You were seven years old when you first met Jeon Jungkook, and it was without question that you absolutely, undeniably, irrefutably, hated him.

You hated his everything, from the way kids in your class flocked to him like he was some sort of radiant sun, to the way he teased you in passing, to the way he’d stare at you out of the corner of his eye, but most of all you hated that stupidly beautiful bunny like grin that never failed to make your heart skip a beat.

You remembered the first day school started back from winter break so clearly. The teacher announced that it was time to change assigned seats. A lot of the kids whined in sadness at having to be ripped away from their friends, but you on the other hand didn’t really mind the change since you hadn’t become too close to your desk mate… that is until his name was called.

Your eyes widened as you watched the happy-go-lucky raven haired boy take the seat next to yours. A frustrated sigh left your lips as you tried to keep your sights forward and away from the brightly lit grin that was visible through your peripheral.

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Bouquet of Roses -- Steve Harrington

Requested: “hi can I get an imagines with steve Harrington because he is a babe where you guys planned a date then he was late because he was fighting the demidogs and u think he’s cheating on u sorry for the long request but thank you if write” “I know you have a ton of requests but would you be able to do a Steve Harrington x reader smut? — stilinskisuggs” “Hi! I saw requests were open and was wondering if you could do a Steve Harrington smut? Literally anything you want, thank you love x”

Warnings: SMUT!!! (16+). Cursing.

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Reader

Summary: Your suspicions that Steve is cheating only grows when he ditches your date to go to Nancy’s house. He proves to you that he would never cheat on you in the best way.

Listen To: Roses by Shawn Mendes

Words: 1827

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Rotten Judgement - part 7

AU!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Hercules!AU After selling your soul to save your lover’s life, you become one of the Lord of the Underworld’s slave. Bucky is obsessed with one thing: collecting hearts. But why?

Word Count:1,985

Warnings: the usual - more or less

A/N: Happy Bastille Bay to those who celebrate it! Thank you all for sticking with the story :) Hope you enjoy this part!

Rotten Judgement - Masterpage

Bucky kept you against his chest and pressed his forehead against yours, begging you to wake up. Pierce threw the bloody knife at his feet and the blade stuck to the ground. From the corner of his eye, he noticed Steve, Sam and Clint outside the restaurant. The three heroes warily entered the room, their eyes scanning the area.

“I was too late to save her,” Pierce said solemnly. “He killed her.”

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you’re hot (when you’re mad)

isaac knows the perfect way to distract his wife when she’s angry.  


inspired by this post:  “you know, when this is over, we should really have angry sex” and “can we fuck? like, now?”  


“You know, when this is over, we should really have angry sex.”

“Isaac.” I sighed. “You’re not listening to me.”

He reclined further against the pillows on our bed and crossed his arms over his chest. “I am, honey. You’re mad because you think I’m trying to control you. You think I’m trying to turn you into an obedient little Stepford Wife, just because I said I wanted you to stop working so much.”

“Stop saying ‘I think.’ It’s dismissive and inaccurate. I know those things to be facts.”

The corner of his mouth turned up in a subtle smirk. “Oh, do you now? I love it when you act like a little know-it-all. It turns me on.”

“I-saac, stop flirting with me like we’re teenagers. I’m being serious. You knew when you married me that I wasn’t going to be a typical housewife for you. Now all of a sudden, you want me to stay home?”

Isaac shook his head. “That’s not what I meant, and I feel like you know that. Will you just come back to bed?” The covers were up to his waist, and he wasn’t wearing a shirt, and I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t a little bit tempted.

“No,” I muttered with half conviction, full petulance, regretfully tearing my gaze from his sun-kissed, toned chest, and the light smattering of hair that covered the hard plane under his stomach, the treasure trail that led to happier places than this conversation. “I’m not getting back in bed until you apologize.” I was standing at the foot of the mattress, admittedly with my hands on my hips, none too proud of my stubborn streak. Isaac was being ridiculous, so I had to hold my ground. Maybe if I kept telling myself I was standing up for women everywhere, I could get through this argument.

“What do you want me to apologize for? Noticing that you were becoming a workaholic? That you’re always tired and frustrated after you come home from work? Baby, all I did was suggest you should cut back on work, delegate some of your responsibilities to other people.”

I shook my head. “No, I can’t. I don’t want my boss to think I can’t handle all of it. He already makes sexist jokes about how I’m the first woman he’s ever promoted to my position. Besides, you said you wanted me to stay home, not work less.”

“That’s the same thing.”

“No, it’s not.”

“Okay, fine, it’s not. Is it so bad that I want to spend more time with my wife?”

“We… spend time together…” I mumbled unconvincingly.

Isaac laughed sarcastically. “Oh yeah, I get to talk to you five minutes before bed because you pass out so quickly from being at work till 9 pm. Oh, and if I’m lucky on the weekend, in between your 15 minute breaks because you bring the office home with you.”

I groaned and paced to the other side of the room. “Well, what do you want me to do?! I’m sorry I care about my job!”

“I get that! I care about my job too, but at least I’m here. And you’re not. I feel like all I ever do is cook and clean and wait for you to get back, holding out some small hope that you might stay awake for just a minute longer so I can share maybe two words with you–that’s if you’re not too tired from crying into my shoulder because you had a bad day at work.”

“Well I–I mean,” I stammered, aimlessly grappling for another line of argument, “so, that’s what this is about? You’re tired of comforting me when I cry?”

“No, of course not–”

“So then, you’d rather I cook and clean, have the house spotless and dinner ready on the table when you get home from work?” Isaac didn’t say anything. A knowing grin spread across his face, accompanied with a playful twinkle in his eyes, and no counterpoint could’ve pissed me off more than that.Well?

“I’m not doing this with you anymore,” he said calmly. “I’m not engaging in this because we both know you instigate fights when you’re defensive. And you’re defensive because you know I’m right. You’re trying to spin this into a feminist issue, willfully ignoring my valid points. At this point, you’re just Fox News-ing soundbites to make me sound sexist.”

“Really? Fox News-ing soundbites? Cute.”

“I thought I was talking to my wife, not Bill O’Reilly…”

I audibly gasped. “You did not just call me Bill O’Reilly. Have fun sleeping on the couch tonight, buddy.”

Isaac chuckled. I stared back, trying to appear unimpressed, trying not to give away that I was completely turned on. It’s not like I could help my biological responses. My female sensibilities always swooned whenever Isaac managed to stay calm, while also simultaneously calling out my bullshit. Not many people could do that. It’s why I married him: Isaac could put me in my place. I needed that sometimes. Still, I didn’t like admitting I was wrong.

“You’re only hearing what you want to hear,” he continued. “You’re not listening to what I’m saying, so I’m not arguing with you anymore.”

“Fine. You’re the one who brought it up.” I threw my hands up in frustration and headed towards the bedroom door, stopping when he called out my name.

“Woah, woah. Where the hell do you think you’re going?”

I turned the knob and opened the door. “Um, I’m leaving? Since you don’t want to talk to me anymore?”

Isaac’s grin disappeared. “This is true. I’m done talking, but you’re not going anywhere.” He tilted his head and looked me up and down. Five years married, I still hadn’t built up an immunity to The Look.

“Oh really? Why’s that?” I challenged. My defenses were crumbling with each passing second, my flesh burning each time his hungry eyes raked over my body.

“Because darling, you’re hot when you’re mad, and having it out with you always makes me horny. Since I know you are too, why don’t we stop talking in circles, and fuck. Like, now.”  A few moments passed and we stared each other down, both waiting for the other to make the next move. “Come on baby, I can almost taste you from over here. And you look so sexy standing over there in nothing but panties and my t-shirt. Get back in this bed, Mrs. Lahey.”

Shit. He pulled out the surname card. There went my last line of defense. “You know what? Fuck it,” I muttered, and stormed angrily across our room. I crawled over the mattress to straddle his waist where he leaned against the headboard. I peeled off my t-shirt and his fingers wrapped around my throat, reeling me in for a harsh kiss, gnashing together teeth and tongue.

“You really know how to get under my skin,” I spoke against his pliant, soft mouth, weaving my fingers through his hair to tug on his curls.

He chuckled. “That’s exactly where I intend to be, pet.” Isaac’s hands traveled up my thighs and under my ass. He roughly squeezed, then swiftly, he brought down one hand and smacked my ass. I yelped at the unexpected contact, then moaned as he rubbed the stinging area. He spread apart my cheeks and moved aside my underwear. Isaac slipped a finger into my folds and spread my wetness over my clit, circling the bundle of nerves slowly. It was when he started spelling out the alphabet over the sensitive bud that I started emitting whiny little gasps. When he got to W, I was mewling and riding his hand. “What do you say, princess? Wanna ride my cock? Or are you still mad at me?” he mocked.

I rolled my eyes. “I’m furious actually, but for now, I wanna fuck your brains out.” I removed the covers from his naked body and fisted his shaft, holding it steady so I could spit on the tip. I spread the slick saliva all over his cock while he fucked my mouth with the fingers he just took out of my pussy. Smug asshole knew I liked sucking on his fingers. They were just so long and elegant and pretty and I loved the way Isaac could reach the back of my throat. There was also his kink about laying his fingers flat against my tongue and stroking the flesh to let me taste myself.

I continued to stroke him, albeit needlessly. “Well, that didn’t take long. You must really like it when I’m mad. Do you just piss me off on purpose, honey?”

Isaac smirked. “Like you’re complaining. You like makeup sex as much as I do. So why don’t you stop messing around,” Isaac continued, gently extracting my hand from his cock and lifting my hips so he was positioned at my entrance, “and take me where you really need me?”

I scoffed. “Me, need you? I think it’s the other way around.”

Suddenly, Isaac stopped circling my clit. “Is that so?” He removed his hands from my body altogether, sat back, smirked, and crossed his arms over his chest. I gaped. Oh no he did not.

“Are you kidding me?” I deadpanned. “You’re seriously gonna stop now?”

Isaac shrugged. “It’s not like I need you.”

I glanced down. “Your boner suggests otherwise.”

“I can take care of that myself.”

“What, and pass this up? You think your hand compares to me?” Isaac remained unfazed, challenging me with one raised brow. “Aww come on, Lahey, what was it you were saying earlier? About getting under my skin?” I made my voice small and delicate, and bit down on Isaac’s earlobe when I spoke. “Don’t you want to be inside me, baby?” Positioning myself on his thigh, I rode him the way I did the first time we fucked, in the driver’s seat of his car after Derek and Stiles said “I do.” I remember the way Isaac’s lips tasted like champagne and icing when I shoved him against his car door, pulled him down by his tie, and kissed him for the first time since we ended things in high school. “Remember the first time I rode you like this?” Isaac pressed his thumbs into my hip bones and guided my movements. The cocky pretense was gone, replaced by hazy lust. He grunted an affirmation. “It was right after Derek and Stiles got married. We fucked for the first time that night, and you made me come twice. In a fucking car. I think I knew then you were the one,” I joked.

Isaac grinned. “It takes flexibility to do what we did in that car. That was all you.”

My laughter transformed into a heady moan as my clit brushed against his leg in that perfect angle. “You felt so good inside me that night. I love the way you feel Isaac, how you fill me up and stretch me out. Please, baby, I want you so bad. I want–ah! want you, inside me… it’s so warm inside this body, and it’s so soft.” Even though I was trying to make Isaac cave, there wasn’t any deception behind my words. I needed him now. “If you don’t fuck me soon, I’m gonna come, and I really wanna come all over your cock. Please fuck me, Isaac, please… I want it so bad…”

“Shit, are you beggin’ me?” Isaac’s fingers wrapped into my hair and he pulled me down to kiss me. “Are you fuckin’ begging me?” In a flurry of movement, Isaac had me on my back, and positioned himself at my entrance. “This what you want?” He slid into me so fast and hard my eyes nearly rolled into the back of my head. My back arched away from the mattress, and he wrapped his arm around my torso as he slammed into me relentlessly. “Fuck, how do you always feel so good?” He grunted into my shoulder. Suddenly, he stopped. This whiny little noise escaped my throat at the loss of contact. “Turn over. Do it, now. Good, now stick your ass out.” He delivered another stinging slap to to my ass. “Higher, just like that. Wanna fuck you just… like that…”

For the second time, Isaac entered me, sheathed hilt-deep in my pussy. It was all I could do to claw at my sheets because the new angle Isaac had achieved was making it hard to stay on my knees. His hand on my hip holding me in place was helping a little bit.

“Isaac,” I managed to say, albeit breathily, “I’m gonna come.”

He slowed his movement and leaned down, placing a gentle kiss on my spine. “Good, me too.” Isaac snaked a hand around my hip and toyed with my clit. All the while he fucked me slow and deep, with his chest against my back, talking filth into my ear. My moans came out in silent mewls, with frustrated growls peppered in because Isaac’s pace was torturously slow. “There it is, there’s that anger I love so much,” Isaac said. “Look at you, clawing at the sheets, fuckin’ growling at me. You hate it when I go slow like this, don’t you?” He pumped into me again, this time, with more gusto, and I could feel my orgasm bubbling up, so close to brimming over.

“Please, Isaac,” I moaned pathetically.

“Please, what?”

“Please let me come,” I whined.

“Shhh, baby, you’ll come soon enough. You’re just gonna have to be a little patient–oh, shit, you just gonna clench around me like that? Make your pussy all nice and tight for me like that?” Isaac grabbed a fistful of my hair and pulled, tugged sharply the way I liked it. “You’re gonna get it now, darling.” He rubbed my clit faster and rutted into me fast and deep. He came before me, but that was probably my fault for clenching around him. I milked out his orgasm before he sent me over the edge.

“Shit, shit, shit,” I whispered as my body quivered. The jolts of pleasure continued for a good minute afterwards, and Isaac laid me on my side and cradled my body against him. He cupped my cheek and brushed soft little kisses all over my face.

“Shh, I got you,” he said softly.

When I finally recovered and muddled through the foggy haze, I realized I was no longer mad. Isaac had that effect on me when he made me come really hard, obliterating my anger and my pride, enough for me to apologize. “I’m sorry,” I said quietly.

“Mm-mm, don’t be. I told you angry sex fixes everything.”

I laughed. “True. You were right about all of it. I’ve been working too much. We barely see each other.”

He kissed my forehead. “S’alright. I just get worried about you. And I miss you.” Isaac moved his fingertips against my back, tracing lazy, comforting circles.

“I miss you too.” I snuggled deeper into his chest. “I’ll cut back. Wanna spend more time with you.”

“Is that right? You’re actually gonna listen to me?” He feigned shock.

I giggled and lightly punched his arm. “Shut up.” I pressed a contented kiss against his chest. “Love you,” I mumbled as I dozed off. Isaac’s fingers combed gently through my hair, lulling me into slumber.

“Love you more.”

fin.

Confessions

A drunk!Dean x Reader / fluff

A/N: Hey, it’s me! Just writing two things in one week. (It’s probably going to snow). This is just something that popped into my head, because I love drunk!Dean/Jensen. I hope you guys like it. Your response fuels my writing. Let me know what you think! ♥

Word Count: 1,302

Warnings:
- language.
- implied smut (kind of)

Tags: (at the end)
*if you want to be tagged in future fics, send me an ask.

*gif is not mine.

It was early for you, considering you normally didn’t wake up until at least noon. Looking at your phone, you realized it was only 7 am. Sam wasn’t even awake yet; his bedroom door next to yours still closed. With no windows in the Bunker, it was hard for you to wake up with the dawn anymore, your body used to the sun being your alarm clock. Walking down the hallway into the kitchen, you could hear faint giggling. It was a deep, goofy giggle, and you knew exactly who it was coming from.

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“Keep your hands off it.”

Sherlock is in the middle of tuning his violin when he must spot something. John watches him as he plucks the strings, strides across to the window and then, quite suddenly, stops.

John smiles. “You okay?”

Sherlock is still staring out of the window. He frowns, just a little, just enough for John to see a tiny crease appear in between his eyes. Then, he shakes his head and the moment passes. “Yeah, I just thought-”

But then, he does a little double take and sets down his violin, abandoning it completely. “No, no,” he murmurs, half to himself. It’s said like a fact- calm and clear. And, before John can ask, he’s about turned and hurried down the stairs. 

John doesn’t follow. Instead, he walks over to the window. He knows Sherlock often observes future clients from here, picking up on tells that are easy to spot before they’re aware he’s watching (oscillation on the pavement always means there’s a love affair). 

He doesn’t know what Sherlock has seen this time, though. John watches as he sees the front door open, Sherlock step out onto the pavement, and greet someone. His wave is tentative. John doesn’t see who it’s aimed towards, Sherlock must be too quick, because he suddenly hears the front door slam shut again. And then, two sets of footsteps and Sherlock talking in a low voice.

John turns to see Sherlock guiding a young girl inside. Her face is pale and wan, tension tight around the corners of her eyes. Sherlock nods at John. “Would you put the kettle on, please, John?”

John nods back and heads to the kitchen. He recognises the script Sherlock is following, the routine they lay out whenever clients call but this feels different, the atmosphere changed. John can tell Sherlock still wants him to play along, though, for whatever reason, so he makes the tea.

He hears Sherlock and the girl sit down and there’s an uncomfortable silence. He glances back- usually Sherlock is saying his customary introductory speech at this point, but no. He’s just regarding the girl, as she sits, tense and awkward in the client chair, and his eyes seem knowing and a little sad.

“I’m- I’m sorry,” the girl suddenly says. “I- I don’t know why I’m here, I’m- I’m so stupid.”

She bursts into tears. Sherlock moves forward in his chair but doesn’t touch her. “No. You’re not stupid,” is all he replies. 

John brings through the cups of tea and sets them down. He looks at the girl, who’s quickly trying to regain control of herself, and feels a familiar twist in his gut. He remembers stifling tears, pretending they never happened.

There’s a lurking suspicion at the back of John’s mind that he deliberately doesn’t voice. The girl soon quiets and calms, and Sherlock talks to her. And John realises that there was never a case at all. Sherlock just chats to her about her interests, and God, he’s clever, casually mentioning some film he apparently likes, and it turns out that’s one of her favourites, and she perks up, talking animatedly about it. 

(John knows Sherlock has never heard of the film).

And then, the tea has been drunk and the conversation slows, and Sherlock is writing something on a scrap of paper for her. His personal mobile- not the work phone number on his website. John raises his eyebrows.

And it’s only when she’s about to leave that John’s suspicions are confirmed. Sherlock asks, just before she goes, if it would be alright for him to look in her bag. “Only if you’re happy with that.”

The girl pauses and nods, and John can sense the courage it took for her to do that alone. 

It doesn’t take Sherlock long. He fetches the package out of the bag, carefully. Sleeping pills. There’s a slight falter in Sherlock, just a flicker, a wobble in his lips that he quickly pushes down. But John still sees it.

“I’ll just-” Sherlock clears his throat. “I’ll just keep these. Is that alright?” His voice is soft and reserved and wonderfully kind.

The girl nods again and smiles, teary. She leaves with the promise to text Sherlock when she’s home.

Sherlock bins the pills, his hands shaking slightly. John remembers aching loneliness, and sleepless nights and half forming a plan and half begging someone to actually see him and stop-

He goes to Sherlock and hugs him. “You’re a good man, Sherlock Holmes.”

Sherlock sniffs and melts into John’s arms. “I only-”

John quiets him with a slow, tender kiss. “You see worlds in people,” he whispers. “The things others might not see. Or not want to see. Or just- just ignore and-”

“Oh, John.”

“Shh. Thank you. Thank you.

Skulls and Roses 💀 🥀 (Part Four)

Jeon Jungkook

TATTOOIST AU!  COLLEGE AU!

The best way to get someone to like you is by getting kicked out of the dorms and having to live together. 

Part One Part Three

Originally posted by mrspreadinglegsjungkook

“I’m not wearing that,” you cross your arms and shake your head for the millionth time.

“It’ll get you more tips!” the manager wiggles the skimpy outfit in front of you and smiles goofily at you, hoping that his enthusiasm and cringey aegyo would somehow make you change your mind.

You scoff in disbelief and cradle your cheek. “Oh really? Does it come with a pole? Cause I’m fucking certain that if I wear that people are going to think I’m a stripper.”

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BTS reaction to you bringing them food at the studio

Jin:

Jin would be absolutely thrilled that you brought him a meal. He would think it’s so thoughtful of you and would say thank you a million times, even with his full mouth. YAH~~! This is delicious, jagi! Thank you so much, sweetie!” He ate the food so quickly because he adored the way your home-cooked meals tasted.  He would have the biggest smile on his face for the rest of the day and would be thinking of ways to get you back when you’d least expect it.

Originally posted by myjinspiration

Yoongi:

This sleepy bean would turn into a fluff ball if you surprised him with food. He would have the biggest smile on his face and be sure to thank you as much as he could. Yoongi would make sure you also had something to eat before he took a bite. When you said you didn’t, he would insist on sharing the meal with you. “You gotta take care of yourself just as well as you take care of me, okay?” He would say gently, eating a bite of food.

Originally posted by elatedkindoflife

Hobi:

Hoseok would be ecstatic to see you when you walked in the studio, not even noticing the food you were holding in your hand for him. He would run over to you quickly and hug you tightly, almost making you drop the container. When you finally got the chance to tell him you brought him a nice meal, he gave you a smile made of sunshine. “You went through the trouble of preparing food just for me…? You’re so sweet, jagi! Thank you so much!” He would say, opening the container quickly.

Originally posted by park-jimizzle

Namjoon:

Namjoon would be a bit surprised that you came all the way down to the studio just to make sure he had something to eat since he was working late as usual. Seeing you holding a warm container of food, made him laugh a very tiny bit before pulling you into a warm hug. “You’re so thoughtful, baby girl. How did I get so lucky?” He would share some of the food with you before he finally stopped working and came home with you.

Originally posted by btsreactionsandgifs

Jimin:

Jimin would be unbelievably happy that you brought him something to eat while he was working. He would probably get a little bit teary-eyed that you were thinking of him and wanted to take care of him. He would give you a million kisses and thank you until you told him to be quiet. Jimin took a bite of the food and smiled widely. “This is delicious!!! Are you sure you made this, princess?” He’d joke. 

Originally posted by morekpopmore

Tae:

He would be a smiley little bean. When you gave him the food, he would take a bite then make sure you had a a bite, too. Tae would say how thankful he was that you came all the to bring him lots of home made food for him. “MMM!!! THIS IS AMAZING, MAN~!” He would accidentally eat the rest of it himself then feel a little bad he didn’t share it all with you. “I’m sorry, but it was too yummy to share!” Tae would chuckle.

Originally posted by thebangtanway

Jungkook:

Jungkook would get all red when he found out you showed up just to make sure he was well fed for the day. He would say thank you and flash his little bunny eat in an embarrased smile. While he was eating he was thinking of all the ways he could get you back for being so sweet to him. “I’m gonna get you back, y’know that, baby?” He’d say with a smirk, taking a bite of the yummy food.

Originally posted by jinkooks

You Understand, Right? (Part 12): Who Will You Choose?

Characters: Dean Winchester x Sister!Reader / Friend!Reader, Sam Winchester x Sister!Reader / Friend!Reader

Length: 1549+ words

TW

A/N: A lot of you guys said you wanted more Sam in this series, but I don’t think this is what you had in mind huhuuhuhuu. Imma try to incorporate his character more in the series bc I do agree that he has been neglected! 

Feedback is appreciated (AND SO ARE YOU)!

SERIES MASTERLIST


“I understand if you want me to leave,” Y/N mumbled against his chest, her grip on his jacket loosening itself.

“Leave? Leave where?” Dean asked, confused at her words.

“I betrayed your trust. I didn’t believe you. I nearly gave the Colt to Crowley! You have a million and one reasons to hate me!”

“Hey, none of that,” Dean rebutted sharply. “I told you when you left that I would never hate you. You’re family, and nothing will change that.”

“Okay.”

“C’mon. Let’s go back to the motel.” Dean helped her to get on her feet, letting her lean on him for support before stabilizing herself. “You good?”

“Yea.” She kept a hand around his elbow for support as they made the short trip back to their motel room.

When they went back in, Sam was just putting on his shirt, his jeans already on, and his hair still wet from the shower.

“Where’d you guys go?” he asked, before his gaze settling on Y/N’s bruised neck. “What the hell? What happened?” In two giant steps, he was in front of her, a gentle had lifting her head to examine her blue-tinted skin.

“I stole the Colt,” Y/N replied.

“What? Why would you do that?” Sam’s eyes widened in shock.

“I stole it for Crowley. He said he needed it.”

The youngest Winchester took three steps backwards, as if her skin was fire that burned his skin.

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Midnight Luxe  {Part 5}

Originally posted by vkookie-trash

(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4)

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Genre: angst, fashion designer Jungkook AU,

Summary:  Your life was nothing but a drag until you met Jeon Jungkook, the alluringly beautiful fashion design student who asked you to model for his upcoming runway show. Soon you find yourself pulled into his eccentric group of friends and their enticing world of fashion, sex and music, a world that may ultimately leave your heart in pieces.

Inspired by the anime/manga Paradise Kiss ♥


The feeling of his hands on you made your heart freeze. His touch sent electric shocks convulsing throughout your body until you felt as if you might explode.

 You hadn’t realised things had gotten this bad. You hadn’t realised that you already liked Jungkook far too much.

 And now you were almost certainly in far too deep to back out.

 The tape measure pressed again your waist almost painfully, the tight band constricted your breathing but you made no complaint. Carefully, Jungkook read each measurement he got from various parts of your body and scribbled them down on a lined page in a little red notebook.

 The way he furrowed his eyebrows as he concentrated, so completely dedicated to getting the absolute perfect measurements from you, was addicting to look at. You didn’t need to worry about him catching you staring at him so awestruck, he was so intensely focused on what he was doing that you doubted he would look up even if a giant meteorite hit earth.

 You quickly realised you loved watching him whilst he worked. You loved to see how truly passionate he was about what he did, you loved the ways his eyes glowed with an adoration for his craft. When he was working, he seemed more alive than ever.

 You took a few deep breaths in an attempt to remain calm. If he caught on to the fact that you had even the slightest hint of feelings for him, well, you weren’t too sure exactly what would happen but you’d decided that it wasn’t something you wanted to find out. You couldn’t let feelings get in the way.

 “Okay, I’m almost done,” he said, finally loosening the tape measure from your waist after what felt like forever, You were sure it must have left a red mark from where it had been wrapped around you so tightly.

 Jungkook was wearing a pinstripe suit and on anyone else, you were sure you would have laughed at them for wearing such attire in a casual situation. But it was Jungkook. Everything he wore seemed unquestionably fitting and he pulled it all off with such elegance. He was breathtaking.

 “Great, what’s left for you to measure?” you asked.

 “Your bust.”

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Still Life of Hands

Being an art student, one would think Ronan would be used to half-naked models by now.

Usually, he is. His figure drawing class brings in a new model every time they meet twice a week, though sometimes they bring back old models if the class is particularly inspired by them. The models are everywhere from female to male to non-binary, and Ronan had thought he’d seen it all. Of course he’s attracted to the male models if they have nice bodies, but usually it’s just a thought. He’ll look up from his notebook, appreciate their body for a second, and then start sketching their muscles, zoning out as he lets his pencil or charcoal do the rest. If Ronan thinks about them outside of his artwork besides that, it’s usually because he feels sorry for them having to sit in weird ass poses requested by the class for what must be two painfully long hours. He looks at them as a project to tackle more than anything else. He doesn’t feel flustered around any of them. He definitely doesn’t raise his hand and request a pose.

So why the hell is he doing that now?

His professor looks surprised – of course she is. Ronan has hardly even spoken in this class, let alone raised his hand. A small smile soon adorns her face however, she has always supported Ronan for whatever reason, and nods in his direction. “Yes, Ronan – go ahead.”

Ronan looks back at their new model and abruptly forgets how to speak.

He doesn’t know if all of the models before him were just shitty or what, but Ronan swears he has never seen a more beautiful human being in his entire life. He has short, dusty hair that falls across his head in what can’t be described as anything but a mess, but it’s a beautiful mess, like fucking movie star hair perfectly tousled by the wind. He has ocean blue eyes that seem to pierce right through him when he turns to look at him, and the utterly bored look on his face just makes Ronan ache more. His face is dotted with thousands of freckles, Ronan would love for an opportunity to count all of them, and his figure is tall and thin. But the part about him that completely floors Ronan is his hands – oh God his hands. They’re boyishly big, jutting out from his slender wrists and supporting large knuckles and long fingers. His hands look like he’s been working hard all of his life and Ronan can’t stop staring at them. He wants to kiss those hands – he wants to feel those hands all over his body.

He has never reacted this strongly to a model before. Ever.  

No matter where he looks Ronan feels like he’s going to explode. Oh, and did he mention that the guy’s shirt is off? Ronan can’t even begin to describe what the sight of that scarred and muscled chest is doing to him.

“Ronan?” Professor Kawalski’s concerned voice somehow penetrates into his brain, and he realizes with a start that he’s been staring at the model like a love-struck fool for who knows how long instead of requesting his pose.

Cheeks dusting pink with embarrassment, Ronan looks at his notebook in an attempt to escape and clears his throat. “Uh, yeah – could you…”

And he directs the model through the motions. He has the model—Adam, his brain supplies him unhelpfully—sit with his back facing the class, leaning back on his hands. His legs are stretched out in front of him and he tilts his head over his shoulder, looking like someone has just called for his attention. Ronan wants it like that, to seem like they stumbled upon a scene of Adam’s life rather than making it obvious it’s just a figure drawing. And while he laments that he won’t be able to stare at his chest through the whole drawing—someone else will surely request that anyway—he wants, needs, Adam’s hands to be the foreground of the picture.

It wouldn’t be right otherwise.

Once Adam settles into position, his eyes lock with Ronan’s. “Is this right?”

Ronan struggles to swallow through his suddenly dry throat. “Yeah. Perfect.”

The class settles down then to get started on their sketches. Ronan finds that Adam’s shape comes to him effortlessly, little details he’d never bothered to identify on other models popping out at him every time he looks up. It’s a wonder he gets anything done at all, actually, because every time he glances up and stares for just a bit too long, Adam catches him and stares back with what looks like a smirk on his face. Ronan wants to hate him for it, but he loves it instead and he slowly loses his mind as he drowns himself in everything Adam Adam Adam.

He finds himself adding the smirk on when he gets to his face; it improves the casualness of the pose, he thinks. It looks like Adam was relaxing, and then turned to smirk at someone who just told a dirty joke. Or at least, that’s the scene Ronan is imagining in his head.

While most of the figure itself doesn’t take him too long, Ronan gets caught up in the features that he can’t stop staring at in real life, too. He spends about half an hour just getting his freckles right, dotting them all around his face and on his shoulders. He’s absolutely in love with the freckles on his shoulders. The last hour he spends entirely on Adam’s hands. He draws them with care and affection, adding in every detail he can see. Maybe it’s just an excuse to stare at Adam’s hands (it definitely is), but Ronan’s proud of how it turns out. If someone looked close enough at his drawing, they could see the freckles on Adam’s fingers, the way his large knuckles jut out and give structure to his hand and fingers, that tiny little scar he has on the back of his hand.  

He’s paying more attention to detail than he ever has before. While his classmates request different poses throughout the two hours, Ronan just focuses on his original pose for Adam, using the new poses to add details to it that he couldn’t see before. As he brushes in the way Adam’s hair lazily sprawls along his forehead he wonders what it would be like to draw his fingers through it, if it’s as soft as it looks.

He wonders if he may be idolizing Adam just a bit too much.

“Alright, pencils down!” Kawalski calls, startling Ronan so badly he literally drops his pencil on the ground. Noah, the guy who has sat next to him all semester, snickers at him. Ronan flips him the bird. “Let’s all thank Adam for his patience with us today!”

Adam looks utterly embarrassed as the room is filled with light applause. Ronan wonders if he’s new at modeling or if he’s just like this every time. He wonders which one is more endearing.

As Ronan carefully tucks his notebook into his bag and shoves away all of his pencils and erasers, he wonders if it would be too strange to request Adam back again. Ronan believes he can’t be the only person who was so enthralled with him, so surely the class would back him up if he did…

“Um, hey, Ronan, was it?” a voice says from behind him. When Ronan turns, scowl already sitting habitually on his face, he nearly has a heart attack.

Adam is standing there, right in front of him, within touching distance. Ronan illogically has the urge to pull away, suddenly flustered, but then he realizes: Adam is standing there. Right in front of him. He has a ratty old Coca-Cola shirt on now, Ronan realizes sadly as he stares at Adam like he’s an apparition.

Holy fuck.

“Uh?” he says intelligently. He has no grasp of what Adam could possibly want to say to him – how does he even talk to this boy? He can’t very well tell him he’s enjoyed staring at him and imagining him in mildly erotic situations for the last two hours, though that is the truth. Ronan doesn’t lie. He just smartly doesn’t say everything that runs through his head.

“Sorry if this is weird,” Adam says, luckily filling in the conversation for where Ronan failed. “I just…I just really liked the pose you gave me, and I was wondering…if I could see it?”

For a moment, Ronan just stares at him. His immediate reaction is no holy hell Adam can’t see it! Ronan had bared his heart on that damn paper, in that damn sketch, for this damn boy. Just the thought of how Adam would react to seeing Ronan’s attraction and affection puked onto his notebook horrifies Ronan.

And yet, against every instinct and nerve screaming in his body, he pulls his notebook back out of his bag and hands it to Adam. “It’s the one in the back,” he says uselessly, not knowing what else to say. Anything else is too terrifying to bring to life.

Watching Adam flip to the correct page and just stare at his drawing is the most painful thing Ronan has ever experienced in his entire life. And he’s been through hell and back. It’s almost worse that he can’t tell what Adam think is thinking through his expression – it’s irritatingly blank, except for a spark of surprise in his eyes.

“I…I don’t know what to say,” Adam eventually murmurs, and to Ronan’s horror starts flipping through the rest of his notebook.

Shame, embarrassment, and the familiar self-hatred flares to life as one big ball of anger in Ronan’s chest, and he digs his fingernails into his palms to stop himself from lashing out. Gansey and his counselor have helped him get better about non-violent ways to unleash his anger, grief, and other intense emotions—it’s why he got into art in the first place—but having his heart exposed and crushed like this is worse than anything he’s felt recently. Dammit, this is why he had closed up to people after his dad died!

“Sorry it’s so shitty,” Ronan growls, hurt leaking like venom into his voice despite his best efforts. He reaches to grab his notebook back, but Adam quickly tucks it into his chest, like he’s protecting it. Ronan just blinks at him in surprise.

“No, no, it’s not bad, god how could this be—” Adam, seeming to realize that Ronan has no idea what the fuck he’s trying to say, pauses to take a deep breath before staring directly at Ronan and saying, “I didn’t mean to imply that. It’s just that no one’s ever drawn me so, so…beautifully before. Like, you draw me like I’m worth something, like I’m…lovable.

Ronan doesn’t know what to think – he doesn’t know how to react. On the one hand, he kind of wants to throw his fist into whatever or whoever made Adam feel like he’s worthless and unlovable. On the other hand, Adam, beautiful, freckled Adam just gave Ronan’s sketch the highest possible compliment. On the third hand—you don’t have three hands, Ronan’s brain supplies unhelpfully—Adam apparently saw right through his sketch and to the deepest part of Ronan’s soul.

Ronan’s love for Adam is tangible enough for Adam to notice, and that is the most terrifying thing he has ever heard in his life.

He feels like he needs to blow something up. Set something on fire. Instead he brings his arm up to chew on his leather bands and, pointedly not looking at Adam, says, “I’m just drawing what I see.”

It’s apparently the right thing to say, as Adam’s entire face brightens into a large smile. Ronan passionately wishes he had his notebook back, so he could draw it. “Wow, that’s um…wow. Do you…do you want to go out for coffee sometime?”

If Ronan wasn’t so surprised already, that would’ve sent him falling right off his stool. He’s so in shock that for a moment he’s convinced Adam is messing with him. Why would he have any reason to want to take some crazy artist on a date—oh God—especially one who had just drawn him like he was the most beautiful thing in the entire world? It sounds rather creepy, to Ronan. Against the aching want in his chest, he complains weakly, “You don’t even know me.”

That doesn’t seem to deter Adam in the slightest. “I’d like to.”

Ronan blushes at that, feeling warm and excited and giddy. It’s been a long time since someone has wanted to climb through his spiny walls and get to know him. He hadn’t realized it until now, but maybe he’s been waiting all this time for someone to want to. He can’t help but smile. “If I agree, can I sketch you again?”

Adam tips his head back and laughs, and Ronan wants to sketch him. Again. Jesus, he’s just found his motivation for his next one thousand art projects. Maybe more than that. He wonders if Adam will laugh for him again. If he’ll let him caress his hands.

Dear God.

“Sure, I’ll even let you pick the pose again, since it’s obviously been your goal all along,” Adam teases, grinning and leaning forward to whisper in Ronan’s ear, “I also do full nudes, if you’re interested.”

Ronan’s spine nearly snaps he sits up straight so hard, blood rushing to both poles making him abruptly dizzy. Holy fuck.

“Jesus,” he breathes, embarrassed when Adam pulls back with a snicker. Suddenly he leaps to his feet and practically throws his phone into Adam’s free hand, babbling in a flustered way he didn’t even know possessed him, “Okay listen, fuck, here’s my phone, just put your number in or something and I’ll…I’ll text you. Actually, I hate my phone, so maybe you should text me. I might not reply, but I’ll come whenever and wherever you want to meet – I literally don’t do anything. I just sit in my room and sketch. That’s it. Sometimes my friend Dick bothers me.”

Jesus. He might as well have thrown an I love you somewhere in there.

To his surprise and relief, though, Adam doesn’t seem overwhelmed – if anything, he finds the whole situation amusing, if his wry smirk is anything to go by. Ronan badly wants to kiss him. Fuck this is a mess.

He watches as Adam plugs his contact info into Ronan’s phone before handing it back to him. Then he just stares at him, an eyebrow raised. It takes a few awkward moments of getting lost in Adam’s eyes and knowing absolutely nothing about phone etiquette for Ronan to realize he’s waiting for Ronan to text him so that he’ll have his contact info, too. Feeling like a blundering idiot, Ronan texts him a simple message—guess who—before pocketing his phone again, relieved to get it out of his hands.

Adam pulls out his own phone as he gets the message, and the small smile on his face is worth every moment of suffering in Ronan’s life to get to this point. He spends a few moments editing the info before also pocketing his phone and sending that smile at Ronan. Ronan forgets how to breathe. “Great. You know, I’m actually free now – do you wanna get lunch? There’s a great pizza place not far from campus.”

Ronan would run through hell and back for this boy. Again. But he tries to regain some sense of his pride and integrity, so he leans back at his whole height and says nonchalantly, “Fine. Only if you let me drive.”

“Deal.” Adam smiles widely before flipping to another page in Ronan’s notebook and showing it to him. “But first, tell me about this raven.”

Heart Acts

Parts ONE and TWO if you missed it! 

Synopsis: You are a new and upcoming superstar and during an interview, you get asked questions about the one and only Harry Styles.

PREVIOUSLY:

“Alright, alright, you got me but how about you let me get to know you, and you not run away from me this time? Don’t like it when beautiful things slip away so soon.” Harry says, biting his lip right after and you wanted to scream out that whatever he wanted you to do, it would be done.

But of course, that isn’t the case, you remember how disgusting some of the comments that were left under your pictures, the things the said about you in interviews, all of the negativity cam rushing back in. You couldn’t imagine what they would have said if they saw you on Harry’s arm. Why is it so hard to focus on the good things in life?

“I don’t think so, I’m sorry.”


“You said what?!” Stacy was sitting beside you on  the bed inside your hotel room. You both were watching TV but after much persuasion, Stacy managed to convince you to tell her everything that happened that night. 

After you rejected Harry, you went into your car immediate. You didn’t want to see the look on Harry’s face. You were praying he didn’t try to call or go after you but thankfully his manager pulled him away. As soon as you got inside your car, you were silent. Not saying a word the whole drive back. 

You didn’t know what to say to Stacy. That you left the man you have thought about for years, the man who inspired you to do what you do everyday? You didn’t know why you did yourself.

“I said no Stace,” You said clutching your pillow into your stomach, your head rested on the top.

“Why? I was reading your journal and you basically love him!” Stacy screeched.

Your head shot up immediately, eyes wide, mouth agape. “You did what? You read my journal?! Stacy it is private for a reason! How did you? How did you even find it?”

“Um, Hun, if you wanted it hidden why would you put it under your bed?” Stacy scrolled through her phone acting as if her statement was normal.

“Stace why would you look under the bed anyways? This is so confusing for me right now!” You try to gain her attention and smack the phone out of her hands.

“I was checking to see if there were bedbugs okay! You know how I am, I don’t care if it’s a five star hotel, if I see a bug I am leaving the country. But this is besides the point! You are practically in love with Harry and you deny him? Why would you do that? This is your one chance at happiness, a normal life. For goodness sakes you haven’t been able to act like a normal teenager ever since you were discovered! You missed all of the fun things teenagers were suppose to go through. Instead of going through college stress you went through ticket sales stress. Instead of going to prom you went to music awards. This is the one chance you get to experience something that is considered normal. Having a boyfriend is normal Y/N!” Stacy was basically lecturing you. You didn’t know what to say because at the end of the day, you knew she was right. She was always and you hated it. 

Ever since you got signed into your record deal, you were immediately pulled out of what was suppose to be a normal life. You didn’t get to finish high school with your friends and instead received your diploma on your tour bus. You still remember Stacy tutoring you for English and the bus driver helping you with History. Stacy even went so far as playing graduation music on the drive to Texas and making you wear a gown. 

But having a boyfriend? This was totally out of your league. You didn’t have any experience with this kind of stuff and it freaked you the hell out.

“Stace, this is Harry Styles we are talking about. You know how notorious he is for being the supposed womanizer. I freaked out and talked about him for a minute too long and boom. Countless articles about me being obsessed with him. Comments on top of comments, all saying how I suck up to him just for his fame. It’s almost as if I can’t be friends with anyone of the opposite sex.  I was told I had a knee deep obsession with him when all I did say nice things. What do you think is going to happen when I date him?” You begin pacing around the room again. “Even if I do date him, it’s just going to end in disaster.”

“You will never know if you don’t try love. And he wants to try with you." 

Why is Stacy always right?


Harry has been grumpy ever since the award show. When you rejected him and left in your car he was devastated and was quite offended.

"Know this might sound really bad, but, m'not used to getting rejected y'know? It’s like know m'not all that but, I really thought we had something together. Thought we had a connection.” Harry was lying on his back with Lucas. Lucas was currently on his laptop, like always, figuring out new ways to get Harry to the top. Whether it was booking  a photo shoot or finding new radio openings.  He was one of Harry’s closest friend and was part of the team.

“Well, wha’ she say?”

“She said no. And that she was sorry or somethin’. Didn’t even give me the chance to convince her otherwise.” Harry rubbed his eyes with his hand. 

There was already so much stress with everything going on his life, musical wise. There was no way a new girl was able to fit on his plate but Y/N was different. You gave him something not a lot of people had; honesty.

You didn’t see him as a multimillionaire, a player, a famous superstar. You saw him as a musician. You saw him as someone who loved music as much you did. 

“Lucas! I have an idea!” Harry shoots up from his position on the couch which knocks Lucas’s laptop to the ground.

“DUDE! I was workin’ n something aye!” Lucas grumpily gets up and dusts off his laptop, examining for scratches. “What’s your idea? Gettin’ me a new laptop?”

Harry laughs and punches Lucas in the arm. “No, d'know how we are both gonna preform next week in the states for that festival?” Harry smirks when he sees Lucas’s reaction.

“Harry, Harold, listen to me. That is a huge event, what are you going to do?”

“Pull up the set list, m'gonna change her mind. ”


You were currently at home, not in a hotel room, not in your tour bus, but in your house. In your old room specifically. Stacy felt really guilty after talking to you about Harry and what had happened and decided a break was exactly what you needed. You had nothing on the schedule anyways and how harmful can thee days be?

It has been a long time since you were home. Your room looked the exact same, walls painted yellow, a single twin bed decorated flowers, placed right in the middle of your room. You had posters and pictures of your friends everywhere. Funny how every thing changed in an instant.

“Hon? Are you alright? Dinner is almost ready but I want to talk to you for a sec,” Aunt Robin knocks on your door and peeps are head in. You smile at her, admiring the messy bun she always had and dressed in the same scrubs; blue with yellow rubber duckies. 

“I feel like me and you haven’t chatted in a while, kind of miss you, how’s my favorite super star?” Robin walks in and sees you laying on your bed, legs in the air.

“What are you talking about? We talk twice everyday. Once when I wake up and another before bed. We talk all the time.” You swing your legs from the bed and move so she can sit next to you.

“Not on the phone, I want to talk to you face to face. Sure we talk but it’s always the same, I ask you if you ate, you ask me about the hospital. I want you to tell me secrets like you did in fifth grade!” She sits down next to you and starts playing with your hair. The action brings you back to all the times she would do that to calm you down.

“I’m sorry it’s just that sometimes I lose track of everything going on. One minute I’m in the States and the next minute I’m in Europe. Of course I am grateful for the opportunity but having this break is so important for me, I feel good you know?”  

“You needed this as much as I needed to see you. Now listen, I have been reading on the internet, and as confusing as it is, I clicked on this article and saw that thing with you and Ha-”

“No, we aren’t talking about this. Not here, I am finally home after such a long time, I don’t want to talk about anything involving me or boys!” You groan and stuff your face into a pillow. This was the last thing you wanted to talk about.

“OK, OK, I get it. But, I was reading your diary from when you were in midd-”

“What is up with everyone reading my diary!” You lift your head up and stare at your aunt, in her hands was your middle school diary, decorated with bright pink fur with a lock on the side.

“That isn’t the point here Y/N! You are the smartest girl I have ever met, I raised you to be strong and kind, you know your mother would have been unbelievably proud if she saw you now. You think with your head all the time, maybe it’s time for you to act with your heart?” Robin says raising your diary in the air. 

When you were younger, it was your aunt who raised who your whole life. She would always try to avoid conversations about your parents, and you never minded. This women single-handedly raised you and she did one heck of a job. No matter how hard shifts at the hospital was for her, Aunt Robin would walk home sit on the couch and watch every performance you put on.

“What if I act with my heart and by the end, I don’t  even have one anymore?”

“Oh honey, no one could even try.” You feel Robin hug you from the side and for the first time in a long time, you felt at home.

“Oh, Stacy was right, you do need deodorant.”

“Ugh you guys need to stop talking to each other!” You laugh at her while she scrunches her nose.


It’s Saturday night and you were no longer in the comfort of your own home. Instead of lounging watching all of the shows you didn’t have time to catch up on anymore, you were getting a weird food facial. You had no idea it existed until Stacy had to practically drag you into the salon, promising that your skin would be glowing for tomorrow’s event.

Tomorrow’s event is going to be one of the biggest nights of your life. It was a huge ball with all of your icons preforming. There would be music, food and you were even invited to Ellen DeGeneres’s after party.

Stacy and your band decided that you were going to sing three different songs, one of which that was new. You spent all of last week practicing vocals and dancing. It was extremely important that you did well, so many new entertainment industries were going to be there, keeping their eye out for new talent to sponsor. Your performance can determine if you get to shoot videos with A-List celebrities, be on the cover of Vogue magazine or even collaborating with major brands. To say your nerves were on fire was an understatement.

Stacy made sure that no one was to mention anything about any scandal or to bring up the H word. She knew he was going to be preforming as well but didn’t have the guts to tell you. So she did what every good manager would do, write it out on a cake and it was to be delivered to your hotel room later on the day.  

“I swear, your skin is going to look and feel like a baby’s bottom. They won’t even need to use the spotlights because you will be glowing!” Stacy clapped her hands together as you guys both laid on the massage table, dressed in white fluffy robes with various fruits adorned on your face.

“So, my face is going to feel like ass? Great. Did my soundcheck come in okay by the way?” You started to feel the slimy fruits fall off your face and it had successfully landed in your mouth.

“I saw that, that was gross, you can’t eat fruit that’s been on your face,” She starts.

You were still chewing and to annoy her you chewed even louder. “But what did I say, no talking about tomorrow’s event. If we start talking about it, you and I both know we won’t stop, and then we’ll stress and both of our asses will be in that venue making sure everything is perfect. You need to relax, everything will be fine. Now stop eating your face!”

“Fine but I heard that you got me a cake and you aren’t going to stop me!”


“He’s preforming?! Before me?! This is a disaster! Is it too late to call out? Tell them I have mono or something!” You were pacing everywhere. 

When you walked into your hotel room to look at the cake you thought it was going to say “Good Luck Tomorrow” or “You rock!”, but no. What did it say?

“HARRY’S PREFORMING BEFORE YOU!”

“No, no, we are not cancelling, this event is your make it or break it. I don’t care if Harlem Shake or whatever his stupid name is preforming. You are the strongest person I know, this is below you. I don’t care what happens tomorrow, you will dominate that event.” Stacy shook your shoulders and made you sit down. When you didn’t move she shook you more.

“OK, OK, I get it.” You take your finger and dip it into the icing, licking it off. “But we aren’t using that confetti in the end, during rehearsal it got in my eye.”

Stacy laughs and dips her finger in the cake. 


Walking in heels was already exhausting, but the 10 pounds of lace you had on was even harder. The ball gown Stace picked out was absolutely stunning but you had no idea ball gowns were so heavy.

You did the usual routine at every event. The beginning was always the same. The photo shoot of you walking out of your car and then visiting the fans outside the gates, which was your favorite. You then had to do the red carpet walk which was blinding to say the least. And then your nerves went into overdrive when the interview proportion came up.

You immeadiatley looked for Stacy and she was already behind you and she managed to help you throughout the whole thing. Thankfully no one brought up any scandals, everyone too excited for the music event.

“So Y/N, you are preforming tonight right?” This one interviewer named Josh asked you.

“Yes, I am so excited I feel like I’m gonna throw up or something!” You laughed shyly, you weren’t lying. Even though you had a light meal, your nerves got to you.

In the corner of your eye, you saw Harry walk towards you, and all of a sudden anything Josh said flew right past you. You hurriedly said bye and quickly walked to your dressing room Stacy right behind you.

Now safe in your dressing room, it was only 30 until you had to sing. You began stretching and doing your vocal warm ups while walking to the stage area. You checked you mic and everything twice and then had Stacy check everything once more.

There was a huge television screen to your tight, showing the live broadcast of the event. That’s when you see Harry preforming.

He didn’t look human. It couldn’t have been possible, the way his hair was styled made you want to run your hands through it for eternity. The way his suit as tailored made your mouth water, it was perfect. He looked perfect.

His voice was the main show though, it sounded like thick velvet, dripping out his mouth and landing on the mic.

“Snap out of it! You are going to be up there soon!” Stacy pinched you and you basically screamed, you somehow forgot where you were.

“Tha’s it for me! Thank you so much for having me! Please enjoy the next musical guest, I sure will later!” Harry announced in the mic and the water bottle you had in your hand dropped.

“What did he just say!” Stacy was red in the face and you couldn’t say a single thing, and by the looks of it Harry didn’t mean to say it either.

All you heard were the fans screaming before the host came and started talking about you. You quickly snapped out of your trance and started to stand in position, still shell shocked at his words. “Enjoy me later?” You whispered but before you knew it you were in front of millions.


*knock knock*

“Come in!” You said removing your preformance outfit and slipping into your robe. Why the hell was it so itchy?

Your performance went great, better than you could have ever imagined. As soon as you heard the beat start you forgot about everything. All your fears disappear in thin air and you sang and danced your heart out. 

When you preformed your new single, tears were beginning to form and you heard your fans scream when you announced it was new. You saw Stacy bawl her eyes out looking at you from the crowd. Your heart was so full but that didn’t mean you weren’t angry at what had happened earlier with Harry. 

Harry came in and you immediately stopped. Why was he here? You pulled the robe closer as he locked the door behind you and looked at you. His eyes scanned your body, focusing on your legs.

“So this is what you meant when you said you were going to enjoy me later?” You snap, his eyes diverting right to yours.

“No, I swear, tha’ wasn’t what I meant, whatsoever. I am so sorry Y/N. I had a million things I wanted to say as an introduction but for some reason, that decided to slip.” Harry started walking towards you and you backed up, his eyes narrow as if he was hurt that you didn’t want to be near him. He tries again and this time you stop moving. 

“You didn’t have to say anything at all! You could have easily just passed the mic on like everyone else! Instead you embarrass me in front of so many people, you know what they are already saying! Why are you doing this?” You begin to tear up and you hate yourself for it, not wanting to cry in front of him.

“Why did you say no to me?” Harry says and you scoff, he really didn’t hear anything.

“Sorry I didn’t want to pursue my knee deep obsession with you!” You laugh sarcastically and he looks hurt. There was no way you were ever going to forget what that reporter said to you. 

“Stop caring about people have to say to you! You shou-”

“That’s easy for you to say! You have your whole career in front of you and I just got started! It’s not fair to me that this out of everything is my first scandal. That interview was suppose to promote my music not about you for God’s sake! You out of everyone should know it’s not easy when every single person you are spotted with is deemed your lover!"  You cry and at this point tears were already pooling around your cheeks. "It’s just not fair,” You say silently. It seemed as if that’s what you have been saying for years. 

Harry sees how upset you are and it hurts the hell out of him. 

To know he caused this. The guilt was eating him alive, he never meant to make you feel or react this way. He walks even closer and this time you let him, too tired to fight back.

“This time I don’t care anymore. I don’t care what they say, wh-when you were preforming out there I’ve never felt so good. S’like I just wanted to see you sing forever,” Harry wipes your tears away from your face and the sensation is amazing. His hands were so soft and it felt so good to be comforted by him. “let me OK?”

You furrow your eyebrows and your eyes open, let him do what?

Before you could ask, you felt the softest pair of lips meeting yours. Teeth pulling on your bottom lip and for the first time in a long time, you acted with your heart and let him.


Thank you thank you THANK YOU guys so much for all the support. I know I say these things a lot and I really do mean it! I wanted to make this chapter just a little bit longer so I hope I didn’t bore you guys too much. Also I have Part 4 ready if you guys want it! As always feel free to message me whenever, love talking to my biscuits! Cover by the lovely @editskiwi!

MASTERLIST

Photoshoot 

Summary: Your anxiety gets the better of you doing a photoshoot for an undercover mission and Bucky checks up on you, wonder what happened.

Warnings: anxiety attack, sexual tension, fluff, oral (reader receiving), fingering

A/N: It’s Bucky’s birthday and with all the fics being written for it, I thought I’d go ahead and write a quick one-shot! Happy Birthday, Bucky Barnes!


“I’m sorry, you want me to do what?” You folded your arms across your chest, anxiety bubbling in your chest.

“All you have to do put on a few swimsuits and plant this thumb drive in one of their computers when no one’s looking.” Nat held up a usb drive with Stark printed across the plastic. 

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BTS Reactions - You get kidnapped and tortured

Warning - May be upsetting to some readers, contains bad language

The fist of your captor slams into your face again and you hear your head crack into the wall. You feel nothing for the numbness in your body, but the sound triggers a response in your body, and you cry out. It’s been 5 days of this. Constant torture, beatings and interrogations. You’re fast approaching your limit as the hope slowly begins to seep from your body. You would’ve thought your boyfriend would be here by now, but the fact that he isn’t puts doubt in your mind, as your captors love to constantly remind you. You spit out the blood in your mouth as you start to cry, wishing that you could just hold it in. You hear a cruel laugh, a door opening, a gunshot and then nothing.

4 days later, your eyes crack open, and you begin to stir. You hear grunt of acknowledgment in the corner, then a door opens and closes. You don’t really move at all until you hear the door open again, followed by your boyfriend’s voice.

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"Are you mad?"

There was uncomfortable silence within the car, your hands tightly gripping the steering wheel and Harry in the front seat with all signs of his drunkenness gone once you picked him up.

“Are you mad?”

Harry knew it was a risky question, himself being completely sober.

He knew he fucked up when he saw you marching into the club, a cold look fixed on your face while you were still dressed in the floor-length silk red gown since one of the boys called you since they knew that you were the only one that could get him home without any drunken complaints.

That was when he knew he fucked up, forgetting to show up to the dinner that was beyond importang for you and for him to be there was extremely special.

“I’ll take it that you are.”

You didn’t spare a single look at Harry since you started driving, dress hiked up to your knees so that it wouldn’t get caught in between your heels and the pedals, jaw still clenched.

Harry fiddled with the rings adorning his fingers before looking at you, eyes looking down on his shoes.

“I didn’t mean it. Wasn’t my intention. Lost track of time.”

He remembered clearly when Jeff invited him to the club with others right after a studio recording, deciding to go on with ut since it was four hours before the eveng.

He now realizes to never do that again.

“Love?”

There’s still no response, not even a single twitch coming from you.

“Love, I-…”

“I waited there for hours, thought you were running late. I stood by the door, even told some that you were coming.

“And goddamn it I was wrong.”

The harshness of your voice added to both your hands slamming on the steering wheel made Harry flinch and close his eyes, swallowing the lump in his throat.

You took the key off the ignition and your heels in a hurry, stoming into the house so quickly that made him blink twice.

“Love?”

Harry’s voice was laced with frustration in himself and concern for you, his actions now being a lot more frantic than what used to be, taking off his shoes and looking back and forth on where he should go.

He figured that maybe you were in the master’s bedroom, going up the stairs going three steps at a time and peering his head after slightly opening the door, comfirming his assumptions that you were there.

You bit your lip as you felt the familiar stinging sensation in your eyes, genuinely hating that your anger turns into tears, now changed into pajamas with your dress chucked across the room, a clean face and your hair put down from the intricate hairstyle you sported awhile ago, one that you spent hard work on.

He felt his heart sink, lips coming together and his hand dropping from the door, shaky breaths coming from himself.

Harry found himself crying before even his mind can process that he’s already doing it, lips trembling and his fingers shaking.

“I’m sorry.”

He opened the door altogether and stood beside your lying figure, opting to kneel beside that made his heart break to see you in this state, all just because of him.

The both of you very well know that sorry wouldn’t bring back the dinner nor your effort that you put in trying to make all this happen.

Harry wants to see it one more time, to take it all in. He wants to see what you were wearing, what you acted like, and most importantly you awhile ago. He wants to enjoy it. But he couldn’t, know that he fucked it up.

You’re now wearing a shirt and a pajama, feeling a little hot from what you’re feeling and the switching of the areas you were in.

“I — ’m gonna be honest. I don’t want you being mad at me.”

He sniffled, fiddling with his fingers once again as he looked at you that was looking up the ceiling, the scowl gone but was replaced by a straight face and a frown.

“But I would be mad at me too if I were you. Well, ’m actually mad at myself right now.”

He rubbed his eyes, breathing so shakingly that it added the hurt to his heart.

“I don’t want the both of us to sleep mad at each other. Believe me, I really don’t,” he said in between sniffles and hiccups, noticing that you swallowed the lump on your throat, a sign that you’re very well aware of what he’s saying.

“Don’t want to carry this up ‘til tomorrow. ’S gonna be a two-day fight, and I don’t want that.”

“I — I can’t find the words to say but please, please believe me when I say sorry to you, love.”

This made your heart hurt, fully knowing that Harry’s a genuine person and would pain him to say things that he didn’t mean.

Harry looked at you expectantly, finding what he was praying for.

You simply looked at him, your pursed lips ever so slightly curling up and your eyes looking a bit more expressive.

He let out a sound of relief, jumping up to hug you tightly, tears still pouring down as he kissed you over and over again, his hand going through your hair.

“Can’t promise you this, but I’m trying not to fuck up, just because you’re way too important to me.”

Sweet Pea x reader | Safe🌹 Part 3

• Sweet Pea finds a girl alone in the streets. She doesn’t remember anything, not even her name. He takes her home and promises her that he’ll protect her. They both try to find out what happened to her •

Part one : https://riverdalespolaroids.tumblr.com/post/167670348451/sweet-pea-x-reader-safe-part1-the-reader-finds

Part two: https://riverdalespolaroids.tumblr.com/post/167698323196/sweet-pea-x-reader-safe-part-2-sweet-pea

PART THREE🌹

Sweet Pea was waiting for me outside his trailer. He had to fix something on his motorcycle and I was watching him through the small window. He asked me if I wanted to meet his friend tonight. Apparently this boy can maybe help us find clues about what happened to me. I still didn’t remember a thing. I tried to but I couldn’t. I looked down at my new flowy dress and smiled. It was the first time I felt pretty since SP found me. I looked through the window again and blushed. He had removed his black t-shirt. I took a deep breath and opened the door. As I walked out, he looked up and smirked.

“Wow.. You look beautiful.” He said, putting his shirt back on.

“You think so?” I blushed, walking up to him.

He smiled and took my hand, twirling me around.

“Of course I do. The northsiders better not stare at you because I won’t like that.” He said, putting on his leather jacket.

“The northsiders? Who are they?”

“C’mon, i’ll tell you all about it as I show you around town.” He smirked, handing me his motorcycle helmet.

“Did you fix it? I might have a helmet but i still don’t want us to crash.” I joked.

“It’s just as good as new, you’ll have to trust me on that Rosie.”

Hearing my new nickname made me smile. I don’t think I would be able to feel that way with my real name, the one I didn’t remember. It’s like it was a new me, and I liked that person.

“If there’s one person I trust right now it’s you Sweets.” I said.

“Did you you just call me Sweets?” He asked.

“I did.. I’m sorry I’ll stop.” I said, looking down, hoping he wouldn’t get mad at me.

“Don’t. I kinda like it. But only you can call me that.. and not in public please.” He said, siting in front of me and starting his bike.

We drove through the whole town. He explained to me that there was a northside and a southside and that we belonged in the south. He looked like he really hated the northside. He showed me each and every part of the town. When we passed the southside high school, something clicked in my mind.

“So that’s my school. I don’t really like going there but..” and then I stopped him.

“I know this place..” I said, confused.

“What? You do?” He asked, excited that my memory was coming back slowly.

“I’ve been here before..” I said.

“Do you want to get in? Maybe it’ll come back even more..” he said.

I nodded and he got up. He gave me his hand and i felt my heart tighten. He smiled to me, showing me that everything was okay. It was a saturday so the school was completely empty. We walked in the halls silently. When we walked in front of the library, i gasped. It came back. It’s like a movie scene was playing in my head.

//flashback// As I walked out of the library, my favorite books in my hands, I bumped into a tall figure. I dropped all my books and the boy spoke up, only to stop as he saw me. “Watch where you’re going..” He looked into my eyes and spoke up again. “Oh.. i’m hum.. i’m sorry. Here let me help you.” He said, kneeling next to me, picking up my books. “Thank you.” I said. He gave them to me and the bell rang. I left for my class. Little did I know, the boy watched me leave until I turned the corner. //

I came back to reality and I was on siting on the ground, Sweet Pea next to me, asking me if I was okay.

“I remember.” I said.

“You remember everything? It all came back?” He asked.

“No I just saw a bit of it. And.. Y-You were there.” I said, looking into his eyes. The same ones i saw in my memory.

“I was there? How? We’ve already met?” He asked, confused.

I told him everything about it. He also remembered this moment. It was the first thing that I remembered and yet he was still there with me.

“That was you? But how come I never saw you again? It was about 3 years ago..”

“I don’t know.. Can you hug me please.. I’m scared.” I said, feeling like everything was upside down. He took me in his arms and hugged me tightly. We spent a few minutes like that, talking about this moment.

“You remembered me?” I asked.

“Yeah.. I just didn’t realise that it was you. It’s been so long. I’m still sorry that I bumped into you though!” He joked, bringing back my smile. “Do you still want to go to Pop’s? I can understand if you don’t want to.. you’ve already been through enough today.”

“No it’s okay.. I’m alright I just needed a hug that’s all..” I said.

“C’mon, a good milkshake will make you feel better.”

I saw the lights of the diner from far. It was pretty late so the parking lot was almost empty. We entered and it smelled like burgers and fries. I smilled. It feels like I hadn’t had a burger in forever. We sat face to face in a booth next to the window.

“Are you more of a vanilla, chocolate or strawberry girl?” He asked me.

I giggled and he smiled. “Strawberry!” I said.

“Well that’s great because i’m a strawberry kind of guy.” He smirked. “But don’t tell my friends that.. I don’t look so badass drinking a pink milkshake.” He laughed.

“I saw the framed picture in your room.. Are those your friends?” I asked.

“Yeah, a few of them.” He said.

I didn’t ask more because he looked like he didn’t want to talk about it. The little bell behind us rang and we both turned around. A boy with even more bruises than Sp walked in. He had a cut on his eyebrow and another one on his lip. He walked towards us and Sp stood up. I noticed that the boy was also wearing a leather jacket with a serpent behind it.. weird.. It must be trendy around here.

“What do you want?” The guy asked, dryly.

“Calm down.. I need your help.” Sweet Pea said. They didn’t really looked like friends. “Rosie, this is my friend Jughead. Jug, this Rosie.”

-

I loved writing this part of the serie!! I hope you enjoyed it😊 Please leave me some feedback, i’d love to know what you guys think of it!! Thank you for reading:)

There’s No Us - Harry Styles Imagine

You should’ve seen it coming. He didn’t date, you knew this. Yet here you were thinking about how you had fallen in love and hoped to have a future with him. That distant day dream of you two being in love till you were old was gone now as Harry stood across the room with a straight face and his eyes gazing anywhere but into yours.

“What are you saying, Harry?” You question, feeling your chest tighten as you try to work out what was happening.

“I’m leaving, to Europe,” he repeats.

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Close as Strangers: Chapter 10

Close as Strangers: Chapter 10

Word count: 4.5k

Genre: High School au, angst, fluff

Happy Valentines day, lovelies. Thank you if you’re still reading this. Sorry about mistakes, i’m sleepy and just got off work.

Parts:  one | two | three | four | five | six | seven | eight | nine

Originally posted by donewithjeon

The fact that it was March, almost April, was crazy. You were getting into some different colleges and so was Jungkook. It was weird that sooner or later you’d be departing from each other. You’d been thinking about it so much recently. You knew you two would have the summer and everything. It was just that you had been waiting so long for Jungkook to be yours and then all too soon you would be split up. It was like you couldn’t win.

You were trying not to think about it and obviously it wasn’t working.

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