stand there in your wrongness and be wrong

Imagine: Bitty keeps vetoing all of Jack’s clothing options because he knows Jack dresses like a robber. Jack eventually just lets it go and asks Bitty for his OOTD and tries to assemble his own outfit accordingly, but he keeps sending the messages to the wrong chat - 

SMH Group Chat
Jack: Hey Bits what are you wearing today
Jack: wrong chat
Shitty: brah keep it in your pants
Holster: noiCE
Ransom: getting that bitty booty and its only 1:30 in the afternoon
Bitty: honey….
Jack: for the dinner! tonight i mean! with my parents! I’m not sexting rn
Holster: LOOL not “right now” but theres othER TIMES???
Jack: stop 

Falconers Group Chat
Jack: Hey Bits what are you wearing 
(”Jack: for brunch tomorrow” - message not sent)
Marty: kid
Poots: holy shit zimmboni’s getting freaky
Thirdy: wrong chat lol
Tater: booty shorts and heels)))) very sexy u like
Jack: :/ 
Tater: can u tell b more pie please im finish last one((

Family Group Chat
Jack (out on a run): Bits what are you wearing
Jack: nO wrong chat im asking for clothing options
Alicia: sweetie it’s ok
Bob: v neck and dark wash jeans and an apron
Jack: ….
Bob: we flew in a day early we’re in your apartment im standing right in front of Eric
Bob: we are making apple pies
Bob: surprise!!!!!!

Dear you

Hi…it’s me I know you don’t care to listen to anything I have to say but I have so many things on my mind, so many questions.

Could we just rewind our time together and pause at the exact moment where we went wrong. or where I went wrong?

I can’t sleep without thinking, what did I do so wrong to make you hate me or love me less? What happened to us against the world? now it’s you against me..

Please tell me why you can’t stand to hear my name or treat it like it  is a forbidden word in your secret language in which I thought I understood but these days it has become questionable.

Do you remember the promise we made to one another? the one about never leaving each other behind? well I guess that was nothing more than a phrase to you which had no meaning to you but did you know it meant everything to me?

I cried every single day helplessly begging for you to just reach out to me or throw me a life jacket but instead you abandon me and left to drown because I couldn’t keep myself afloat.

Call me naïve but I really believed you were on my side, call me pathetic for thinking you truly loved me. call me whatever you want but just know despite the bitterness you were the sweetest love I ever knew.

Hey….I know you remember me because you told me you will never forget me but I hope you remember me as the only one who loved every part of you even though you tore me apart and left me with emptiness in my heart and soul.

One last thing please love the next person the way you couldn’t love me, you at least owe them that.

sincerely
me

—  Tenari Ioapo Excerpt from a book I may write.
Big Ol’ Honkin’ OC Question List-- Long Post Ahead!

  Alright, here we go– I put together a list of questions about OCs that you can reblog and have people send in asks for you! I set it up so you can be like, “A3″, “D2″, et cetera… Keep checking in here to the original post in case I add some more to the list! In the meantime, I hope y’all have some fun with this and maybe use it to learn a little bit more about your OCs or get to share things about them!!

A. Psychology

  1. What of the Meyers-Briggs personality types they most fit into? INFP, ENFT, et cetera…
  2. What alignment are they? Chaotic neutral, lawful evil, et cetera…
  3. Do they have any emotional or psychological conditions? Are they aware of it? Do they try to treat it? 
  4. Are they a pessimist or an optimist? 
  5. Are they good at handling change in their life?
  6. Does your OC tend to assume their interpretation of events and reality is correct, or do they question it? I.e., “I’m sure that’s what you said” versus “It’s possible I misheard you.”
  7. Is your OC confident in their reactions to life in general, or do they get embarrassed or easily shamed for it? I.e., if something startles them, do they insist it WAS scary? When they cry, do they feel like they overreacted?
  8. Is your OC a martyr?
  9. Does your OC make a lot of excuses? For themselves? Others? 
  10. Does your OC compromise easily? Too easily?
  11. Does your OC put others’ needs before their own?
  12. Does your OC have any addictions? If so and problematic, have they admitted it to themselves? 
  13. Does your OC have any phobias? If so, where did they come from?
  14. Is your character empathetic?
  15. Is your character observant?
  16. Does your OC have to go through their own trials to learn a lesson, or do they listen and learn from observation and lecture? I.e., does your OC listen when someone tries to tell them the importance of budgeting, or do they have to go experience what happens if you don’t budget first?
  17. What’s one of your OC’s proudest moments of themselves?
  18. Do they get jealous easily? Do they feel bad if they do?
  19. What instantly irritates them or puts them in a bad mood?
  20. Are they harsh on themselves?
  21. Do they make excuses often?
  22. Is your OC intended to be found generally attractive? Unattractive? Average? Is there a reason why?
  23. Does your OC place much importance on their appearance? Do they feel confident in it?
  24. What are some of your OC’s biggest personal obstacles? This could be emotional, physical, social… Are they aware of it? Are they trying to overcome it?

B. Social

  1. Do they believe you have to give respect to get it, or get respect to give it?
  2. Do they get frustrated when lines at places like pharmacies, check-outs, delis, banks, et cetera, are moving slowly?
  3. Under what situations would they get angry at servers, staff, customer service, et cetera?
  4. Do they tip well? How easily can they be moved to not leave a tip?
  5. Do they hold doors open for people?
  6. Would your OC let someone ahead of them in line if your OC had a big cart and the person behind them had very few items?
  7. How do they respond to babies crying in public?
  8. Is your OC considered funny? Do they believe they’re funny?
  9. What kind of humor does your OC like the most? Slapstick, ironic, funny sounds, scare pranks, xD sO rAnDoM…
  10. Does your OC find any “bad” or “mean” humor funny? Do they wish they didn’t?
  11. Your OC is running late to meeting someone: Do they let the other person know? Do they lie about why they’re late?
  12. Your OC orders something to eat and gets their order done in a pretty wrong way, something they can’t just pick off or whatnot to correct, or something major is missing. What do they do?
  13. Do they have a large or small group of friends?
  14. Do they have people they are genuinely honest with about themselves?
  15. Does your OC enjoy social events, such as parties, clubs, et cetera..?
  16. Does your OC like to be the center of attention or more in the mix?

C. Morality

  1. Does your OC have a moral code? If not, how do they base their actions? If so, where does it come from, and how seriously do they take it?
  2. Would your OC feel bad if they acted against their morals? If not, would they find a way to excuse themselves for it?
  3. Is it important for them to be with people (socially, intimately, whatever) whose major ideological tenets align with their own?
  4. Do they consider themselves superior or more important than anyone else? Lesser?
  5. Do your OC’s morals and rules of common decency go out the window when it comes to those they don’t like, or when it’s inconvenient? Aka, are their morals situational?
  6. What do they do when they see someone asking for money or food? If they ignore them, why? If they help, how so?
  7. Do they believe people change over time? If so, is it a natural process or does it take effort? 
  8. Is your OC more practical or ideal morally? I.e., do they hold people to high expectations of behavior even if it’s not realistic for the situation, or do they have a more realistic approach and adapt their morality to be more practical?

D. Religion and Life and Death

  1. How religious is your OC? What do they practice, if anything? If they don’t associate with any religion, what do they think of religion in general?
  2. Do they believe in an afterlife?
  3. How comfortable are they with the idea of death?
  4. Would they like to be immortal? Why, why not? If they are immortal, would they rather not be?
  5. Do they believe in ghosts? If not, why? If so, do they think they’re magical/tie into their religion, or are they scientifically plausible?

E. Education and Intelligence

  1. Would you say that your OC is intelligent? In what ways? Would your OC agree?
  2. Which of the nine types of intelligence is your OC strongest in? Weakest? (Linguistic, existential, naturalist, et cetera)
  3. How many languages do they speak?
  4. Did they enjoy school if they went to it?
  5. What’s their highest education level? Do they want to continue their education?
  6. Do they enjoy learning? Do they actively seek out sources of self-education?
  7. Are they a good note-taker? Are they a good test-taker? Do exams make them nervous?
  8. What’s one of your OC’s biggest regrets?

F. Domestic Habits, Work, and Hobbies

  1. What sort of home do they live in now, if at all? How did they end up there?
  2. What’s their ideal home look like? Where is it?
  3. Could they ever live in a “tiny home”?
  4. How clean are they overall with home upkeep?
  5. How handy are they? Can they fix appliances, cars, cabinets, et cetera?
  6. How much do they work? What do they do? Do they enjoy it?
  7. What’s their “dream career” or job situation?
  8. How often are they home?
  9. Are they homebodies and enjoy being home?
  10. Do they engage in any of the arts? How good do you intend them to be? Would they agree they are?
  11. What are some of their favorite things to do for recreation? How did they get into it? What part of it do they like the most?
  12. Would they enjoy a theme park?

G. Family and Growing Up

  1. Is your OC close to their family?
  2. Who makes up your OC’s family, at least the more important members to them?
  3. Does your OC find their family supportive? If not, what would be an example why not?
  4. What kind of childhood did your OC have?
  5. Did they go through any typical phases growing up?
  6. Do they have any favorite childhood memories?
  7. Do they have any childhood memories they’d rather forget or be less affected by?

H. Romance and Intimacy

  1. What is your OC’s orientation, romantic and/or sexual? Has it ever been a source of stress for them? Have they always been pretty sure of their orientation?
  2. Is your OC a thoughtful partner, in whatever aspect of that you want to cover?
  3. Does your OC believe there’s only one ideal partner (or multiple ideal if not monogamous) for everyone, or that there are many people who could be right?
  4. Does your OC believe in love in first sight?
  5. Does your OC believe in marriage (or their culture’s equivalent)?
  6. Has your OC ever cheated on anyone or been cheated on?
  7. What do they look for in partners? (Emotionally, mentally, physically..)
  8. What’s your OC’s idea of a perfect date?
  9. What are some things that your OC finds to be an instant turn-off in potential partners?

I. Food

  1. What are their favorite kinds of flavors– Sweet, salty, sour, spicy, creamy, et cetera?
  2. Do they have any eating requirements or preferences? Allergies, vegetarian, organic-only, religious restrictions…
  3. Are they vegan/vegetarian (if their overall culture/species generally aren’t)? If so, why? Do they think animal products are wrong in all circumstances?
  4. How often do they cook? Do they order out a lot?
  5. Are they a good cook?
  6. Could they eat the same thing they enjoy over and over and not get bored of it quickly?

J. Politics, Current Events, Environmental Aspects

  1. Where does your OC stand most politically? What would they align with most?
  2. How politically aware are they?
  3. How politically active are they?
  4. Is your OC the sort to fall for fake news? If not, do they ignore it or make a point to clarify that it’s wrong?
  5. Are they or would they protest for a cause they’re passionate about?
  6. How do they react to people whose political viewpoints are very opposite of theirs?
  7. How much interest in environmental health do they have?
  8. In reality-based or applicable worlds, do they believe in global warming? Do they recycle?

K. For OCs in Reality-Based Worlds Who Are Unusual in Paranormal Ways (such as magical abilities, being another species, having a curse like lycanthropy, sci-fi abilities, being from another time, et cetera)– Also for OCs where the scenario is similar even if their universe isn’t based on reality

  1. Does your OC have to keep their paranormal aspect (PA) a secret from general society? If so, how? I.e., they can’t discuss their abilities, they have to hide a tail, they have an alter-ego, et cetera. What would happen if society found out about it?
  2. Are there others in their universe with the same or a similar PA as your OC? I.e., others from different dimensions, others of their same species. Do they know about it?
  3. Does your OC have any friends who know about their PA? Any enemies?
  4. Does your OC ever use their PA to get an advantage? I.e., use their ability to be invisible to steal or get out of things, compete in track while their species is a naturally superior runner, use their invulnerability in careers like police work… If so, do they have any hang-ups about it?
  5. Does your OC feel isolated or unrelatable due to the experience their PA brings with it? If so, how do they deal with it?
  6. Does their PA cause issues in daily life? I.e., if they’re inhuman in a human universe and they can’t go to a doctor or risk the doctor realizing they are not human, super abilities with physical drawbacks, they don’t have control of their abilities and must keep to themselves, et cetera… If so, how do they feel about it?
  7. Does your OC’s PA affect their dietary habits so that they are unusual or problematic by their society’s standards?
  8. What are some routines, if any, of self-care that your OC must engage in that are not typical of their society? I.e., having to file their teeth, maintaining magical rituals, drinking blood…
  9. Does your OC have knowledge that they can’t share with the rest of their world that could improve it if it didn’t cause chaos? I.e., a character from the future knowing about technology not yet invented, but they can’t reveal themselves by sharing it?
  10. Would your OC give up their PA if they could? Why or why not?

L. For the Writer/Owner

  1. How have your characters changed since you created them?
  2. What do you consider the biggest themes in your character, if any?
  3. Did you create the character to be like yourself, did they end up being like yourself, or are they very different from you?
  4. Would you hang out with your OC if you could?
  5. Which OC do you think is the most decent morally or behaviorally?  AKA, which is supposed to a “good guy”?
  6. Which OC do you think is the worst morally or behaviorally? AKA, which is supposed to be a “bad guy”?
  7. Which OC do you think is the most attractive?
  8. What’s the longest you’ve had an OC for?
  9. How did you come up with your OC?
I am a volunteer patient escort at planned parenthood

This is something I just shared on FB about my experiences as a patient escort. Just thought I’d put it on here too.

Alright y'all. Prepare for a long post, but one you should read.

Some of you know, but some of you don’t, that I volunteer at Planned Parenthood about twice a month. My official title is Volunteer Clinic Escort. My role is to safely get patients and family into the clinic safely, with privacy, and with a friendly face. Not all Planned Parenthoods (PP) have these, but the clinic where I volunteer does because we have loud, abrasive, volatile, threatening, verbally abusive and dishonest anti-choice protesters who harass people in the clinic. I would like to tell you about my experiences with them and with patients who talk to me as I stand outside with my umbrella and vest.

(I would like to note that this is not the place to tell me that abortion is wrong, that I should not support PP, that I need to stop what I’m doing. I’ve heard every argument before. In fact, I’ve had every arguement screamed in my face. You’re welcome to your opinion, but I will not be acknowledging it on here, and I ask that others ignore dissenters too. This post isn’t about me and why you think I’m wrong. It’s about what I see every time I volunteer.)

When I am volunteering, I am outside and often have patients and family members talk with me. I’m obviously not there to counsel or to offer advice medically one way or another, but I am a friendly ear and people just need to talk sometimes. Also, when volunteering, patients entering the clinic are verbally harassed by the anti choice protesters almost immediately and, while we don’t encourage it, they often yell back. The protesters don’t listen.


On my very first day, I had a person head into the clinic. As I smiled to her and went to get the door, an anti-choice protester (ACP) yelled “Mama! Don’t kill your baby!” The patient immediately responded tearfully “my baby is dead. My baby is falling out of me right now. I didn’t do anything.” The ACP, without missing a beat, screamed back through her child-sized megaphone “No he isn’t! Your doctor lied to you! These murderers just want your money!” I ushered in the patient as gently as I could while my co-volunteer told her kindly that those people didn’t matter and that in a week they wouldn’t even remember what they heard here.

In the year and a half I’ve been doing this, we have had a ACP sneak into the clinic and threaten to burn the place down. The police did nothing. We had two other ACPs try and enter the clinic to tell patients they would adopt their babies. We told them to get off the property and when they didn’t, we called the police. Eventually the ACP returned to the narrow strip of lawn they stand on at the edge of the parking lot, and luckily so, because the police never showed again.

My clinic, luckily, has never faced extreme violence while I was there. But other PP and health care clinics are not so lucky. They are burned down, have bombs planted, have clinic escorts and workers physically harmed.

They are shot at and three people die.

I have had patients tell me that they will be killed by their partner if they have an abortion. I have been told that their partner will kill them if they DON’T have one. I’ve been told how people with physical disabilities cannot carry a child without side effects so severe they may not survive. I’ve had patients explain that their mental health is at risk if they go through with the pregnancy. I’ve had patients come in with a wanted pregnancy that ended in miscarriage and they needed PPs help to safely remove the tissue. I’ve seen people come in who admit to being addicted to drugs and know they cannot go through this pregnancy.

Planned Parenthood helped all these people, not just with medical care, but with helping abused patients find help to escape violent partners. Helping those who want to conceive find fertility doctors. Helping drug addicts find resources to become healthy.

All the while, the ACP stand outside, screaming and hollering, telling women that they are murderers and whores and that they will burn for murdering their babies. But it’s ok, they do it out of love. They scream at these people and tell them awful things and then beg to have the patient come talk with them.

They don’t see the hypocrisy.

It is a rule to not engage with the ACP at all. In the year and a half I’ve been doing this, I’ve said maybe a total of 50 words to the group, all of which are some form of “you are on our property, step back right now.” I may not engage them, but we can make eye contact and make them believe we are listening. We do this so the ACP begins shouting at me, and not a patient getting air outside. I would much rather be shouted at than have them scream at a patient.

When I am being yelled at, I have been called: a murderer, a nazi, a slavery supporter, a bad mother, a bad wife (they do not know if I am married or if I have children), a witch, a lesbian, a liberal, a member of satan’s army, a Muslim lover, a bitch, a slut, and evil. Some of these things are true and some are perfectly fine things to be, but to the ACP they are all bad.

Sometimes we have patient partners come talk to the protesters. They try and explain to the ACP why they are there with their partner. I’ve heard them tell the ACP every single reason, and every single time, the protesters still tell them they are wrong and a bad father and a supporter of Satan. Every. Time. And they call this love.

Since Trump took office, one of his first orders signed was a Global Gag Rule. People thought that this rule meant that no US money would go to pay for abortions overseas, but in fact, US funds have never paid for abortions and haven’t since 1973. Even in the US, because of the Hyde Amendment, no federal funding goes to pay for abortions.

What this gag rule now does, however, is prevent money from going to clinics that even mention abortion as a method of family planning. They don’t have to perform them. If they are mentioned at all in pamphlets or classes, they lose foreign aid money. This means that now they can’t provide birth control, wellness checks, prenatal care, or classes.

This will cause unwanted pregnancies. This will cause people to seek out abortions, often in unsafe condition.

This will cause people to die.

Roughly 1/3 people with a uterus will have an abortion in their life. I haven’t spoken to everyone who has had one, but I’ve spoken to more than most. No one gets an abortion out of malice. No one gets an abortion just to end the life of a fetus, just for kicks. No. One.

Planned Parenthood provides important health services, including abortion. They do this despite the risk of physical bodily harm, every day. People like myself stand outside PP to protect patients because it is important.

We. Will. Not. Stand. Down.

I will continue to volunteer, even though since Trump was elected, the ACP have gotten more and more aggressive in their tactics, since they believe Trump supports their actions. I will continue to walk these patients inside, to get help, because it is important and right. I will continue to fight Trump the slew of anti choice people supporting him. I will continue to support choice even though I know I will lose friends and will face hatred from people I know.

Planned Parenthood is important, and we will not stand down.

Loose thoughts by Jayalvarrez

I’m usually pretty closed off to sharing any thoughts or feelings but whatever, fuck it maybe I can make someone feel something, these are just thoughts and feelings of MY opinions that I pulled from my list of notes scribbled down in different moments.. I’ve always said it before I barely show 5% of who I really am on social media.. Thank you to everyone who supports me.. I couldn’t live my life like this without you.

Confidence

Confidence is natural, arrogance is forced.

Never think your to smart that you can’t still be the student, wisest people die still learning and improving.

Focus on your own ideas and directions, don’t let others & your mentors tell you everything and influence everything because even the most helping hand has biased ideas and thoughts

Trust your past self on ideas and thoughts it’s the same person you got you to where you are in this moment

You have to believe yourself and convenice your self to feel powerful about what you say, hearing your own voice has a certain ring to it like no one else’s.

Use yourself for everything you are, you truly are amazing and unqiue be loud about it but be humble & do with love.
You are undefinable, You have no single label or group you belong to.. and your mind isn’t even slightly opened yet.

Being honest with yourself saves you in the long run always.

Never be insecure of your creativity.

Don’t live a life based only around how you look, Spending time on your mind and soul is everything..
Determining your self worth off your looks will leave you empty & with short burst of satisfaction.

Remember where you started from and where you are going, You use to dream of the things you have now.. even though this life style becomes casual never forget what got you to this exact moment.


Girls & Sex

My brain is built more like a female than a males, It’s giving me an emotional reach to deeply understand and open up to any feelings or thoughts of any human being. Being soft & loving is being strong.

If she doesn’t want it as much as or more then me I have no interest, sex is mental and eye contact can give you more then anything, giving love is more then expecting all the other persons attention and actions , unless it’s feeding the soul, passionate with a twisted mind it’s a waste of time.. treat every touch on her body like it’s art. 15 second feelings are nice but a feeling in your mind for hours after is even better.


Gorgeous girls and body’s are easy, gorgeous minds and souls are hard. A girl with a beautiful body doesn’t always make for a beautiful girl.

Remember there’s always far better things ahead then anything left behind.

Being sweet & loving to girls will never not be cool, but regardless of gender actions get reactions.

Energy is EVERYTHING.

Never worry about a good looking guy stealing your girl you better worry about that guy who emotionally gets your girl more & makes your girl laugh more 😉.

Getting under a girls skin with just my eyes and words as a connection makes it taste so much better (literally) than relying on physical looks or surface substance to entertain my mind.

I think few people are really built for relationships, I think technology will save us all.

It doesn’t matter how it looks and feels to anyone else it’s how it looks and feels to us.

Don’t let chasing pussy control your life or distract your big plan.

Being physically beautiful is nice but let it be nothing more then the gates to the soul.


Human Relations

i’ve got more personalities then the people i’ve met all together in my entire life combined, I don’t expect people to understand me, more likely expect them to judge me then to ever care to think past clueless first thoughts.

Take everyone with a grain of salt and a open mind, people don’t come with directions.

Peoples opinion of you is their truth, it’s not necessarily your truth or could be even close with to right at all.

The way you talk about the people you hate is a transparency of your own self esteem.

Don’t worry about trusting people, just don’t trust their emotions. Most people can’t understand them self how could they truly trust and understand you, & that’s fine.

Study psychology and history it will give you understanding and every answer you need, the world evolves but human emotions never will, people really aren’t that complex at base.

Don’t fight back into negativity and childishness insecurity, it only makes things worst.

If you want to hurt someone do it mentally, actions are short lived.

If you constantly blame other people for your problems take a look in your own soul.

make peace with your past so it doesn’t ruin your future

Standing up for someone who can’t stand up for them self is the coolest thing you can ever do.

To truly love someone is accepting someone for every thing they come as.

World & thoughts


Language is a forum of communication not always a measure of intelligence, At times I’ve had deeper conversations with just my eyes and touch then I have with words. You could be the most understanding person on the verbal side, but without a emotional understanding you may never be able to communicate with some people.

You don’t need to be any skin tone or ethnicity to practice and enjoy any cultural feelings, every human on this planet bleeds the same blood chances are you ain’t that special.

your not meant to be accepted or fit in, if you were you’d probably not of left that old life.

You can’t blame any one person or culture for anything, this planet is more diverse then you could ever process, Don’t get mad at a person for believing or acting a certain way even if it seems wrong or foolish in your eyes.

Being a good person won’t always benefit you, but there’s some emotional satisfaction in helping others.

You can’t fight science wether you like it or not, it holds the answers to all your fears and to all your questions, It’s a depressing beautiful thing.

Just because the Mass of people believe something is right or wrong doesn’t mean it’s either right or wrong, Most people go off emotions not logic, 1st world go figure.

I feel most alive in moments I don’t feel human. It’s all I really care to live for at times, these split seconds that my mind gives me these chemicals is all I crave at times.

ART HAS NO MASTER OR CRITIC JUST DIFFERENT OPINIONS.


I stand by no perfection and i’m a complete psychopath, I’ve been told i’m crazy outta my mind but attest it keeps me from going insane.. Anything said above can change in the moment & a mind with rules & barriers is limited, a wise & witty mind is what I work towards 😉 I'f any words can make you feel or relate it was worth me sharing! If I annoy and get under your skin for being..well just who I am.. I hope it hurts 👁

Love - @jayalvarrez

@jayalvarrez

Rent-a-Boyfriend™

Words: 12k

Genre: Extreme fluff for all you bitter people out there (me being included)

Read more at Service Series 

Cr.

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Tom Holland x Reader: Apartment

Summary: You and Tom Holland are neighbors in the same apartment complex. You have a crush on him, he has a girlfriend. What could go wrong? You could think of five separate incidents.

Warnings: cursing

Word count: 7,132


No 1: the coffee maker incident (which was all harrison’s fault)

The moment your knuckles leave the door it’s already swinging back, revealing a face flushed with relief. Tom Holland’s eyes flutter closed, leaning his head against the door frame and looking up at you through his lashes with a smile plastered on his face.

“Oh thank god you actually came. You’re good at fixing things, right?” he asked, ushering you into his apartment before hearing your answer. You’re a little reluctant to enter, thinking that you’ll somehow track mud across his pristine white carpet, or smudge a stain on his suede chairs that weren’t in there the last time you’d been over.

“I’m good at putting Ikea furniture together, if that’s what you mean,” you call after him as you hop around on one foot, attempting to slide your boots off without appearing like a fool. You look around once more, taking in the features of Tom’s place.

You can’t say you like what he’s done. There are too many colors; blues and yellows that are too bold, an abundance of throw pillows against a couch that you swear your parents had gushed over in a Rooms-To-Go catalog. None of it looks like him, and you have an inkling as to why, but you keep your mouth shut as you follow the sound of two voices into his kitchen.

“You help me with my T.V all the time. Are you good with stuff like this?” Tom inquires, looking at you over his shoulder. He’s standing in front of something, hunched over the island in the center of the room. On his left, staring at you over his mug, Harrison is sipping away on something.

There’s a smug look in his blue eyes that makes you want to tip his drink onto his shirt, but instead you ignore him, standing on Tom’s right. In front of you is a simple small coffee maker; not a Keurig, but something akin, you could imagine.

“What’s wrong with it?” you question, looking around the top and sides for damage. Tom has his knuckle in his mouth, looking worriedly at the device in front of him. You’ve never seen such an anxious look on his face and it makes your brows crease. “Tom?”

“Hm?” he says, snapping his eyes back to you. The normally sparkling brown hues are muddy, clouded with something you can’t identify. “It’s just… I don’t know what’s wrong with it. I noticed it was out of water and I went to refill it, but when I pressed the button, it wouldn’t make anything.”

Perplexed, you flipped open the lid, seeing nothing wrong. You checked the coffee ground compartment, seeing a pierced, but otherwise unused k-cup sitting in there. With crossed arms, you pressed the power button again, just to be certain.

The three of you watched as the machine’s light started to blink. You cut your eyes over to Tom, wondering what kind of stunt he was pulling. Opening your mouth to speak, you were cut off by the red light blinking out, only for nothing else to happen.

“See!” Tom cried out, fisting his hands in his hair. It curled out of his fist, making two small pony tails at the top of his head. Your eyes narrowed, realizing just how much his hair had grown in the past few months. You hadn’t seen too much of him to have a decent comparison, but you remembered it being much shorter.

“—just wait till she comes home and sees this broken! She’s going to kill me!” Your heart drops into your stomach, limbs suddenly feeling heavy. The coffee maker belonged to his girlfriend. You nodded, now understanding why he had sounded so urgent when he’d called you.

“You’re fucking Spider-Man, ya? Just go out and buy a new one with all that Marvel money,” Harrison pointed out, rolling his eyes as he took another sip of his drink. “She won’t even know the difference.”

“They don’t even make this stupid model anymore, she’s going to know it’s broken. And I didn’t even break it!” he exclaimed, his voice shaking with worry. “What am I going to do?”

“You’re going to calm the hell down, that’s what,” you chided, resting your hands on Tom’s shoulders. He relaxed under your touch, walking backwards as you steered him onto a bar stool. “It’s not the end of the world, dude, just breathe,” you reminded him, watching as his chest heaved heavily. Your hands felt warm as they slid down his arms, coming to rest on the island as you examined the coffee maker.

You drained it of its water, checking the main compartment for any irregularities. Immediately you noted a white film around the sides, and you paused, looking from the sink, to the device, and finally at Harrison.

“Harrison? What are you drinking?” you asked, pulling your phone from your back pocket and shining the flashlight down to the bottom.

“Hot chocolate,” he replied carefully, eyes darting between you and Tom. Peering down, you carefully wiped your finger against the bottom of the compartment, your nails scratching against a hard surface, coated with something.

“Haz, there’s no pot in the sink, or in the dishwasher. What—HAZ!” Tom growled, having put the pieces together. “Did you put milk in the coffee maker?”

“I mean, yeah,” he admitted a not-so-guilty look across his face. “It was sitting right there, and it was faster than heating up a pot.”

“Ah-ha,” you chuckled, closing one eye to look down into the coffee maker. “That would explain this weird shit covering the bottom of this thing.” You gave a pointed look at Harrison, who hadn’t even tried to look remorseful. “You do realize that when you don’t clean up heated milk, it leaves a hard coating on metal. This coffee maker basically has a hot plate that boils the water and then sucks in into a tube. My best guess it that the milk hardened, and the water can’t get through,” you assessed.

“Well how do we fix it?” Tom asked, crossing his arms and looking at you. He seemed to believe you had all the answers, and you bit your lip to hold back you stutters. You didn’t want to disappoint him, to make him think you weren’t the person for the job.

Cutting your eyes over at Harrison, you gave him a pointed look; you made it look reprimanding, but it was really to wipe the smirk off his face. He’d had a smug look since the moment you walked in and it bothered you, making the tips of your ears feel hot.

“Well for starters, don’t do it again,” you bit out, glaring daggers at Harrison. He didn’t reply, but he did walk out of the room, shrugging his shoulders as he walked behind you.

Tom noted the fixed stares you gave him, but said nothing of it. You pursed your lips before looking at the brunette, holding out your hand and asking for a knife.

He blinked, warily pulling out a butter knife and placing it into your palm. You frowned at it, turning it over in your hands. “I need a sharper one.”

Tom raised a brow, hazel eyes glimmering with suspicion. You snorted, wondering if he was actually afraid of you with a knife.

“What, you think I’m going to kill you or something?” You joked. You wondered for a moment if your joke was too dark for a guy who was just your neighbor, but he eventually chuckled, handing you a knife with a sharp, long blade. You gave him your phone, and asked him to shine it down into the machine. Silently, with the two of your heads close together, you both bowed your heads with work to do.

This was an awkward fifteen minutes. Every now and then Tom would pick his eyes up and watch as your face scrunched in concentration. Your lips would part as an almost inaudible curse passed through, making him laugh a bit. Every time you felt him move you would try not to catch his gaze, attempting to discreetly look at him. You could feel how close he was and it felt wrong that your heart was beating so fast, or that you couldn’t breathe.

After what felt like hours, you retracted, taking the machine to the sink to wash it out. You filled it and plugged it back in, waiting patiently with a mug as you started it.

Tom looked as though he was holding a breath, and sure enough, when the coffee streams out he sighed, leaning against the counter with his entire weight, looking as though he’s been saved from the fires of hell.

He turns, eyes shining in praise as he gushed a bunch of rushed thank you’s, his accent slurring everything together. You’re really just nodding and smiling, telling him that it’s fine and no big deal. You’ll tell yourself anything to get rid of the hammering in your chest, louder than construction work as you feel blood rush to your face.

“I seriously don’t know what I’d do without you.” He sounds like he’s speaking about your presence in general, but that can’t be true. All you’ve ever done for him was put together furniture and now fix his coffee maker, but he seems to like you, as a friend and neighbor. Which you’ll take.

“It’s no problem at all Tom. And it’ll be less of a problem if I can have this,” you pull the mug away, bringing the rich black coffee to your lips.

“Yeah, yeah, of course. Do you want to stay for a bit? I feel like you’re always in and out, and-“ his words die as his cell phone rings, the ringtone that default sound that makes you jump. He takes it, holding his hand up apologetically, but you shake your head. You weren’t going to stay anyways.

Grabbing your things, you pass Harrison, who looks pretty comfortable on a couch that isn’t his, sipping on the last of his hot chocolate. He smiles when you walk by, but it’s a knowing one, as though he can read your thoughts. You scoff, but before you can get your shoes back on, Harrison says, “You should be thanking me.”

That really riles you up, and you laugh, a forced, sarcastic thing. “For what?”

“If it wasn’t for me you wouldn’t be making any moves.” There’s a wink, but you don’t really care to return his comment. You strain out a “Bye, Harrison,” before closing the door and leaning your back against it.

The cup in your hand is scorching your palm, but you smile regardless. Another reason to knock on Tom’s door. 


No. 2: The incident where you meet his girlfriend and things go wrong

You had this sick feeling in your gut that toady wasn’t the best day to bring back the mug you borrowed from Tom. It was simply the day after, the most reasonable time to drop by and say, “hey, I forgot I took this” without seeming like you harbored it, or cast a spell on it. The little thing sat neatly in your hands, cradled gently as though it was made of crystal.

Your knock was verging on two minutes ago, so you decided to go again, wondering briefly if you should say his name. Calling him may have been a bad idea, but before you could form his name, the door swung back, revealing a brunette that was not Tom.

His girlfriend’s caramel colored hair was a cascade of freshly made curls, evident from the fact that her makeup and outfit were already complete. She lacked shoes, and a sense of hospitality, sizing you up like bully on a playground. When she reached your eyes, you balked, deciding whether it was better to state your purpose, or just drop the item near her feet and scram.  

It would have been much easier for her as well, until Tom caught your eyes from farther behind her. “Y/N?” he questioned, but excitedly, as though he was happy to see you. That made his girlfriend’s lip curl into a sneer, an action that didn’t go unnoticed by you.

“Oh, uh,” you started, wanting so bad to bolt, but transfixed by Tom’s smile and gentle demeanor. He was dressed, indicating that he was probably going out. And from the progress they both had on their outfits, you could guess it was possible they were going on a lunch date.

You felt foolish, your heart drooping in your chest as you resigned yourself to stick with the plan. What did you expect, that his girlfriend would just magically be missing every time you came into his apartment? A dumb idea, one fueled by your fluttering heart, but also by your jealous mind.

“I accidentally took this last time I was here. Sorry,” you said, holding the cup out to the girl. She dropped her eyes to the cup, but made no moves to take it from you. Her hands stayed rooted on the door, and you felt like you could melt under her scrutinizing gaze.

Tom saved you, however, taking the cup from your hands with care, wrapping his hand around it. Your hands brushed each other’s, and your fingertips felt so warm and fiery, igniting your nerves in flames. You looked up to send him a smile, but you caught the look his girlfriend gave you.

Her blue eyes startled you, being so wide and so angry at the same time. Her perfect nails seemed to dent into the metal door as she gripped it with all her might. Her posture was rigid, feet set apart in a fighting stance. You thought her unoccupied hand was going to reach out and punch your teeth out.

The silent threat made you jump, the ware slipping from your fingers and smashing to the floor before you had time to react. You could only pull your feet away and watch in horror as it fell on its handle, small shards of grey porcelain scattering across the floor.

You want to cry, curl up beside the shards and be swept away into a dust bin, you’re so mortified. To your right, she’s smiling a little, resting her hand on Tom’s shoulder as she proceeds to ask if he’s okay. She tiptoes to look over his shoulder, as though she wasn’t standing feet away when it happened. Milking the moment, you catch the glint in her eyes when she rubs his back, saying that she’ll get a broom.

Tom nods, saying a faint, “okay babe,” before he’s taken aback by the kiss she plants on his cheek. You note the pink mark it’s left, a small, but powerful reminder that he’s taken, and that no matter how shy and polite and cute and neighborly you are, there’s nothing you can do about it.

She casts a look that is part sinister and part mocking over her shoulder, but it turns into surprise as the door closes, Tom stepping out into the hall. He’s got his hands behind his back as the door clicks shut, leaving the two of you in the hall.

“Sorry about that, I don’t know how that happened.” He rubs the back of his neck now, as if he’s really considering the idea that he might have done this.

“No, you have nothing to be sorry about. I’m the one who broke it, I should be cleaning it up, I,” your head is fixed towards the ground, unable to meet his gaze. You really just want to walk away, but it was hard, with him so close to you, his height and yours almost the same. There’s no need for tilted heads when every time you look up, it’s just his eyes on yours, and it makes you so frustrated.

“I’m really sorry about this, I promise I’ll get you another one.” In some really nice universe, this is the part where Tom chuckles and says “You don’t have to do that. Just go on a date with me and we’re even.”

But this is not a nice universe. It’s not even close. This universe is horrible and cruel, laughing at your pitiful crush on a taken British boy and your shitty attempts at being his friend.

This universe sucks, so you leave him with that half assed promise and run down the stairs, not looking back as he calls your name.


 No. 3: the incident where you hear something you shouldn’t have (but always wanted to know)

It’s late, and probably your own fault that you’re miserable and at home and have to watch a fucking slideshow about Roswell, New Mexico. The lights are mostly off in your apartment, save for three little hanging lights above your kitchen counter. One sole bottle of Heineken is untouched, probably warm since your friend left over two hours ago for her date.

And now, with a pounding headache and an impossibly bad mood, you felt your limit snap as loud shouts and a bumping bass sounded from Tom’s apartment. He wasn’t a rowdy guy, and his girlfriend didn’t seem like the type to annoy the neighbors at ten pm, but you could think of a certain blonde that would.  

It had been weeks after ‘the breaking of the mug’, weeks of building back the confidence to look Tom in the eyes, and weeks of him being crazy nice to you. He was always asking you to come over, wanting to make up for how bad your last encounter was. Eventually you both settled back into a comfortable friendship, but that only persisted as long as his girlfriend wasn’t around.

After another week of that arrangement, you felt guilty, almost as though you were doing something forbidden. You remembered the shame and palpable tension in the room that occurred every time she came home to find the two (or three, there was no way she could get rid of Harrison) inside. Almost any conversation would drop, and you would leave, giving him a curt goodbye.

It was dumb, it was strenuous and it was so unnecessary. But it felt exciting.

You swallowed that excitement down fast, knowing that there was nothing between you two. You were neighbors, and finally friends; you weren’t going to ruin it because of your unrequited crush on him.

The pounding in your head increased when you heard with clarity and annoyance the repetitive yell of shots. The song seemed to shake your entire apartment and you growled, stomping over and banging on Tom’s door with your fist.

“Hey! It’s a fucking Thursday night!” you yelled, despite your normal timid manner. You seriously just wanted to fall straight asleep and head to work tomorrow and make a final decision on this location. You were losing time and patience and the capacity to care when a face split into a wide grin upon seeing you at the door.

“Hey hey, Y/N!” Harrison’s blue eyes were unfocused and shiny, his smile too big for his face. He stumbled to grab your arm, his grip much tighter as he used all his strength to pull you in.

“Guys, look who I found!” The word “guys” had you at unease, but you surveyed the people around you carefully. You would know the Spider-Man cast anywhere, and Tom’s apartment was definitely a place where you’d seen them the most.

Tony and Jacob both had on tilted ball caps, and when Tony ran to hug you it fell off. “Oh thank god you’re hear Y/N!” he hiccuped, slinging an arm around your shoulder. “Our man Tom has something to tell you.”

The room dissolved into giggles. It sounded like a first grade classroom, their laughter so innocent and playful. The only boy who didn’t seem to be partaking in the fun was Tom, his lips set in a pout as he shoved Jacob weakly.

“Knock it off, boys,” he told them his voice sharp against theirs. He didn’t appear to be as drunk as they were, but the goofy grin that followed proved otherwise.

After another round of laughter, you tried to shrug Tony away from you, but he was heavier without full control over his body. You felt uncomfortable being around four drunk men, who were all stronger than you. Despite knowing that they meant well, the entire situation read badly.

“Tony, please get off me,” you mumbled, which seemed to earn his attention. He stood up straight, raising his arm up mechanically. You took a step back, holding your arms to make yourself small. “Guys, I get that you’re having fun, but I have work to finish, so can you-“

“You’re a location scout, right?” Jacob asks in the moment of lucidity. You nod, watching warily as Jacob stands, holding his hand out to you.

“Jacob Batalon, best actor in this room. If you’re ever in a pinch for actors, you know where to find me.”

“Jacob,” you said slowly, your handshake becoming too long. “We’ve met before.”

“Best actor in the room? Tom has a fucking BAFTA!” Harrison argued over the music, but you both paid no mind to him.

“Uh, I think I’d know if I met anyone as pretty as you. At least, I think you are. I can’t really see, but you’re Y/N, right?”

“Jacob,” you sighed, exasperated. Pinching the bridge of your nose, you were halfway to launching into an explanation before he cut you off.

“Tom’s been going off about this Y/N girl. She lives across the street or something. I’m like, Tom, dude, amigo. How do you know if she’s pretty if she’s all the way over there?” He pointed out the window and you frowned, wondering just what in the world he was on about.

“Jacob I know you! I live next door.” He snapped his fingers loudly, looking back at Tony with wide eyes.

“Tony! It’s the girl, the one Tom mmhmm-“ Harrison covered Jacob’s mouth with his hands, trying to sit him back down. You raised a brow, looking between the four of them before sighing.

“Clearly I’m not getting anything through to you, so I’ll just do it myself.” You huffed, turning to what you believed was the source of the booming music. A stack of black rectangular sound systems sat on a shelf below Tom’s T.V, each of them appearing to be on. In the background, yelling had ensued, with Jacob’s mouth finally free of Harrison’s grip. You paid no mind as you decided to simply turn the volume down. You twisted the dial a little too far, making the music so quiet, that their shouts became clearer.

“Why the hell not! You’re not going to have any other chance!”

“Your girlfriend dumped you, now is the perfect time to tell her!”

“And say what? ‘Hey Y/N, I’ve been in love with you since the day we met’?”

It kept going, not even missing a beat as the four boys started piling shout after shout on top of the others. You, however, had your hands over your mouth, slowly rising to stand up. Your mind tried to process the words in the order you heard them in, making sure it matched what you thought. Your heart felt like it would leap from your chest, knees knocking as you struggled to understand.

Tom liked you. He had since the day you met. And he didn’t plan on telling you.

It was news to you that his girlfriend was no more, but even bigger than that was the idea that each of his friends already knew that he was in love with you. That sentiment seemed like common knowledge, considering its blunt outburst hadn’t shocked anyone to silence.

Suddenly Harrison’s cheeky winks and Tom’s bright smiles seemed more than just coincidences. You wanted to run up to Tom and tell him that you felt the same way, that he meant more to you than just a neighbor or a friend. You felt your heart clench as you realized that those words were never meant to be presented like this. You weren’t supposed to know.

In some nice universe Tom would tell you over another shared mug of coffee, or an a first date somewhere sweet and thoughtful. In some nice universe you could kiss him for saying that, and he’d kiss you back.

But this was not some nice universe, and this shit always happened. You let yourself out, sliding back against the cold metal door and letting out a sob that had been working its way through your chest.

Perhaps that nice universe would only ever be a daydream


No. 4: the incident where the tables have turned

Not but two days after the drunken episode, you walked up the stairs to find Tom, sitting outside his apartment like a lost puppy. He bounced his phone on one knee, the other keeping his forehead up as he scrolled through his phone. After a moment he locked it, turning his head to see you, dazed and confused.

“Y/N!” he exclaimed, his loud voice reminding you of Thursday night, and the deflated way he had yelled your name, saying that he was in love with you. You were starting to believe it; you could see his eyes light up whenever they found you, a small but genuine smile tilting his lips upward. For someone who had just lost a significant other, Tom seemed pretty much in one piece.

Maybe because you were the one seeing him.

Nevertheless, you raised an eyebrow in silent question, to which Tom sheepishly smiled. “I seem to have locked myself out of my own apartment,” he told you, standing up and shoving his hands in his pockets. He was well cleaned up, considering the last time you’d seen him he was smashed beyond compare.

Before you even had the thought of stopping, you blurted, “Doesn’t your girlfriend have a key?”

It was like kicking a puppy; a small, adorable little puppy that only wanted your attention for half a second. The mirth drained out of his face and his eyes quickly dropped to the floor. His hands swung aimlessly by his side. You wanted to take it back, say you were sorry or that you forgot, but you weren’t even supposed to know in the first place.

“Alice and I broke up,” he sighed, and all you could think was ‘So her name was Alice.’

You tried to morph your face into sympathy and surprise, but you weren’t sure how well you pulled it off. “Oh, shit Tom, I’m sorry,” you expressed, wanting to reach out and touch his shoulder, but withholding yourself. Pretending you didn’t know about his feelings for you was so difficult, and you weren’t sure why. It wasn’t like you to be flirty or drop hints, but for some reason that was all you wanted to do: wrap your arms around him, tell him he’d be fine, and remind him that you were next door if he needed you.

In some nice universe that would work, but this wasn’t time or place.

“My spare key is with Harrison, surprise surprise,” Tom joked, which you smiled at.

“You’re never going to see that key again,” you laughed, bringing back a sliver of a smile to the man’s face. He looked better with it, you thought, doing nothing for the butterflies in your stomach. Your laughter calmed down enough for you to shrug. “You can come stay at my place until he gets here, if you don’t have anything to do.”

His eyes widened, but he hid it by raising his left brow. “Are you sure? I don’t want to intrude or anything.”

“Considering it returning the favor. Besides, I’m always in your apartment. We need a change of scenery.” You unlocked your door, coming into your apartment with tense shoulders. Tom had never been in here before, and there was a reason for that. His presence in your apartment would gradually become less and less strange, making him just a part of your home than the couch or the curtains. You didn’t want him to be so familiar that it seemed like he belonged here, because he didn’t. He belonged in his nice white apartment, far away from whatever you had going on here.

There wasn’t much. You weren’t a minimalist, but you preferred less pillows and decorations than actual furniture. The colors were mostly neutral blues and greys, with red here or there. Along the walls were huge posters of cities you’d visited for work. Ashville, Slab City, Roswell, and other obscure towns were littered across your living room, and when you looked back you noticed Tom was staring at all of them.

“You’ve been to all these places?” he inquired, awe lacing his voice. You were shocked by his curiosity, considering he travelled all the time for his job. His face was fixed on the posters, before catching the little framed photos around the bookshelves. “Holy shit, is that you?”

He had the frame in his hand now, and judging from it, you were sure he was indulging himself in staring at a truly mortifying high school photo of yours. “Who are these people?” he pointed, and you grimaced.

“High school friends, if you couldn’t tell by our bad fashion choices,” you groaned, coming up beside him and studying the picture. You were in the middle, as you often were in group photos because everyone was taller than you. It didn’t particularly matter in this instance; you were squatting down, your hands clasped as if in prayer, staring down the camera with a smirk. Above you, four of your friends had lifted up the shortest girl in your group, perching her on their shoulders. It looked like a dysfunctional human pyramid.

“I don’t think I have a picture of me and my mates half as cool as this,” Tom remarked, and you couldn’t help but laugh.

“You think that’s cool? I think we were more crazy than cool,” you spoke wistfully, setting the picture back down. “I’m not even sure why I keep that around. It doesn’t really fit in with this whole thing,” you gestured wildly, pointing at the dozens of colorful photos. Tom’s eyes landed wherever your finger pointed, until the rested back on you.

“Which one of these is your favorite?” he asked, turning in a circle to view every landscape. You put a finger to your lips, eyeing each one carefully, until you landed on one filled with green and purple.

“I took this in Glasgow, about four years ago,” you stated, standing beside a quite large picture of a sprawling field of bluebells. “First time scouting overseas, and a studio needed pictures of old woods to use as concept art. I was with a senior photographer on this one, but he let me take the shots they eventually used.” You glanced up at the photo in reverence, before looking over to Tom.

His face expressed pure adoration, and you found that his eyes rested more so on you than the photo. He seemed to be in a trance, only snapped out of the daze a minute after you’d stopped talking. He tried to shake the grin off, but it was too late. So he went with it, smiling even wider.

“Wow. I’ve been to Scotland before, and I knew it was beautiful. But that?” he threw his hands down and you laughed at his gesture. “I’ve never seen anything like that before.”

“You just have to know where to look. I know I never would have found this place if David wasn’t so familiar with Glasgow,” you told him, heading into the kitchen for drinks. “Next time, take someone who knows what to look for.”

“Maybe I should take you.” It was supposed to be mumbled under his breath, just a wish he kept to himself, but he let his guard down. You heard him, freezing as you stuck your head into the fridge, thanking the heavens that you had a cover for your burning face. You wanted to turn around and tell him yes; absolutely, positively, one-hundred-percent were you on board with going anywhere with him. You wanted to joke that you’d pack your luggage right then and there, that between two seasoned travelers like you, there was sure to be a discount somewhere.

But all you could do was force down the thoughts, grabbing two cokes from the fridge before pressing them to your face. You turned to Tom and smiled, a restrained, glowing thing that startled him, for he hesitantly stepped towards you.

“Maybe you should. Glasgow is one of my favorite places. I’d be happy to show you around.” You hoped you didn’t come off as anything other than friendly, but knowing the situation you were both in, there was no telling his response.

Tom just blinked, his face like a deer in headlights. Suddenly his face was tinted in pick and he smiled, looking down at his shoes bashfully. “I don’t know when we’d ever do it,” he commented, rooting you two back in the reality, the place where you both had jobs to do and obligations to others. But it had been nice, dreaming of Scotland with Tom. Perhaps it would come true.

There was a calm silence that settled in between the conversation, which was ripped away when Tom’s cell rang. He picked it up with reluctance, before making a face at the id. “Haz you better be downstairs or else I’m hanging up.” There was a bit of yelling on the other side, Harrison’s voice distorted by the traffic outside. Tom listened for a moment more before nodded, cutting his eyes over to you.

“Yeah, you can just open yourself, you’re always there anyways,” he quipped, ending the line before sighing. “Sorry, that was Haz, he’s here with my key.” Every word he said sounded breathless, a string of words in an almost incomprehensible British accent and an apology mixed in somewhere. You smiled, before jumping up.

“Oh! Before I forget,” you babbled, reaching into a packed kitchen cabinet for something. You stood on the tips of your toes, reaching for a turned handle before it landed gracefully in your palm. You smiled, handing it over to the dumbfounded man over the counter.

“What’s this?” he asked, turning over the red and blue designed cup. “Is this for me?”

“Yeah! I told you I was going to get you a new mug, I didn’t say what it would look like though.” You bit your lip, wondering if a Spider-Man mug was really the way to go in this situation. In addition to playing the wen head, you knew he had an affinity for the character as well, hoping the combined coincidences would lead him to like it.

He pressed it into his palms, turning it over in the daintiest of ways. He clutched it tight, as though he might break it from just breathing on it. When he picked his head up, you noted the watery glimmer in his brown eyes, which he tried his hardest to blink back. There were so many small things about Tom that made your heart flutter, but you didn’t have time to study them all.

“Thank you,” his small voice took you from your thoughts. “That was really sweet of you. You didn’t have to do this.”

“I wanted to,” you relied firmly, placing a hand on his shoulder. “And I couldn’t live with myself if I never replaced it. Seriously, take it,” you told him, seeing as he was unwilling to leave with it. He stared at it a little while longer before he jolted, a buzzing sounding from his back pocket.

“Harrison’s here, I should, uh,” He stammered out, slowly taking some steps back. You nodded, giving him a slight wave and then headed back to the kitchen. You didn’t look up until you heard the door open, and then click shut, the air in your apartment much colder than it had been.

You stared around, wondering if you could find differences in your home now that Tom had been inside it. Your old theory was clearly correct, because your place had never felt so lonely and empty since you’d moved in. With a frown, you stared at the picture of Glasgow, wondering if in some other time and place, it was taken by you and Tom.


No.5: the incident where everything becomes clear

You actually burst into his apartment, a loud banging noise that sounds like it belongs in a movie. You’re too dramatic, and for reasons only you can understand.

Two heads turn, almost in sync. Blue eyes stare your form up and down, a quirk in his brows, while Tom just screams “Y/N!” It’s more of an exclamation that a question, which prompts Harrison to ask the obvious.

“What are you doing?” It’s so posh coming from him, the accent highlighting the annoyance in his voice. Or maybe it’s confusion, because he seems baffled not only by your presence, but by your urgency.

Tom doesn’t seem to mind. He’s got wide, shining eyes, and a posture that’s halfway out of the chair he was sitting in. He crosses the length between you two in an instant, throwing you off for a second before you regained proper footing.

“What’s wrong?” He questioned, staring you down with those concerned brown hues of his. You wanted to take his face in your hands, and reveal your purpose for being here in the first place.

You were out of breath, from both being so close to him, and from running up three flights of stairs. After getting started on a scouting job earlier this week, you requested half the day off to start finalizing your travel plans. Within the next week you’d be flying into Tokyo and Hong Kong for a few days with Shanghai as a backup plan in case you didn’t get the shots you wanted.

You had been so psyched to start packing and start sharing about your trip, when you came across a moving truck in front of your complex. And lo and behold, you caught the sight of Alice, her arms full of those yellow throw pillows you had seen in his apartment all those weeks ago. Her blue eyes scanned the street until they came to rest on you, shouldering a hand bag that probably cost less than her foundation.

Her eyes turned to steel, lips curved in the most menacing grimace you’d ever seen. Her eyes appeared watery as you came closer, the grimace turning into a full-blown snarl the longer you stayed in her vicinity.

You practcally ran away, heart pounding out of fear. It wasn’t that Alice was mean or nasty towards you; it was that you could understand why she didn’t like you. You didn’t know the specifics of their breakup, but if you could guess, you figured Tom’s affection towards you might have played a factor in it.

The guilt burned your chest, but there was something else there you didn’t understand, something that led you to Tom’s unlocked door. In the awkward silence between you two, you wondered why it was unlocked, and why he didn’t seem to question why you were here. The longer he stared at you, the more your fingers itched, and the more you yearned to touch him.

So you pulled him out of the apartment, his feet tripping over the threshold as the door closed behind him. You caught a glimpse of Harrison’s face, blue eyes shining with mirth before he winked, clicking it shut. Tom turned his head to look back, but you grabbed his cheeks, making him face you.

He opened his mouth to ask something, but the question was caught it his throat. Your lips were suddenly on his, and he shifted closer to you, like it was an instinct. Like he got kissed by breathless girls outside his apartment on a daily basis.

His arms wrapped around your waist, before coiling tightly, his nails digging into your jacket. Your hands left his cheeks, instead falling to the nape of his neck, where you brushed small curls of hair with your knuckles. Everything about kissing Tom felt like fitting into a jigsaw puzzle; you knew exactly where everything went. From your hands to your chest to your lips, every part of you felt in place.

Tom eyes opened as he pulled back, gazing at you like he would a star in the sky. “Why did you do that?” His nearly inaudible voice was shaky, his hands running up and down your sides. He tried to still himself, but you could feel the skittish energy he was trying hard to contain.

You wound your arms around his neck, pressing yourself closer to him. “I don’t actually know,” you told him seriously, a smile in your lips.

He tried to roll his eyes, but he too was smiling at you. “You just did it, because? Just because you could?”

“Because I’ve wanted to for a long time. Because you accidently said last Thursday that you were in love with me. And because I’m in love with you too.”

Tom’s arms dropped and he balked, watching you with a gaping mouth. “You heard that? You heard me say that?” he reiterated, looking you in the eye. When you nodded he groaned, placing his head in his hands. He refused to look at you when you coaxed him out of his shame.

“I can’t believe you knew that,” he muttered, his face turning redder by the second. You tiptoed up and kissed the crown of his head, causing him to peek at you through his fingers.

“I’m sorry you’re embarrassed, but if I didn’t know I’d never have the guts to kiss you,” you compromised, pulling his hands away from his face. “C’mon, this situation isn’t all bad.”

“It’s not bad at all, really,” he sighed, a content smile gracing his lips. “I mean, you did say you were in love with me too, right?”

“Do kisses not mean anything to you Brits? Is that just like, a thing you guys do?” You poked fun at him, earning another small peck on your lips to shut you up. You smiled and laughed, making it messy and causing his lips to end up short squish against your cheek. He rolled with it though, smothering your face with tiny little pecks, squeezing you tight in his arms.

From somewhere in the apartment, Harrison screamed “Finally!”

ENOUGH

I have had enough. For the first time in my years online I am dissapointed of what has become of this community. I can’t believe that you’ve allowed yourself to be torn apart by the scheming rumors of a few. I can’t believe that you’d ignore the greater cause of why we are here for your own personal satisfaction. I can’t believe that you’d think that I am worth squabbling over.

If you think that this community is about any one individual’s standing over anyone else, including myself, then you are in the wrong place. If you have ever belittled, threatened, insulted, or berated anyone else in the community FOR ANY REASON then you are in the wrong. I don’t even care if you think I’m missing the point of why you’re waging your own personal war. IT ENDS TONIGHT. And more to the point let me ask you one question that you really need to reflect on:


Are you making the world a better place?


If you want to squabble and bicker about gossip and problems, take it somewhere else. Here. Right here. We build each other up. We never bring each other down. We NEVER threaten each other. We never attack those whose opinions may differ from our own. In this community we hold ourselves to a higher standard to show an EXAMPLE of what a true community should be to the rest of the world. I will not stand for this pointless arguing. I WILL NOT STAND FOR IT. 

And if you think for even one second that I’ll allow this to continue then you are dead wrong. I may want to make the world smile but you can be DAMN sure that I’ll protect what this community represents with my life. We are better than this. We are stronger than this. It’s time to change. And it starts tonight.

-Mark

anonymous asked:

What are your thoughts on the lyrics of Dangerous Animals?

I love Dangerous Animals. The lyrics to me always embodied a sexual frustration/tension/desire he can’t get to. There are a lot of phrases in that song that fit each other “pinned down by the dark, to my knees you do promote me.” Humbug era Alex lyrics are trickier to decipher, especially a song like this. He tends to bounce around, with long winded ideas and concepts that leave you a little breathless and confused. However, his theme and mood are still cast pretty strong. I always liked in Dangerous Animals how he describes the acrobat falling off the beam, the audience watching. Those lines are consistent with the album’s overall theme and tone, the nonsense and the like… Carnival imagery he refers to throughout the entire album. I have another ask about Humbug, and I will write about this more in depth in that.

Anyway, I’ve always struggled with understanding what his message is in this song. Since I can’t actually go and ask him, and if I could he wouldn’t tell me, I can only guess. Usually my guesses have more confidence but this one I never really was so sure. Because he like steers the lyrics in a different direction out of nowhere. I’ll try my best, but don’t take my word for it. And if you have thought otherwise this entire time and want to disagree with me, you can. I have a very weak argument. I’m not sure if I’m right on this one.

The first verse starts with him fighting with his sheets, or struggling to sleep, because he’s frustrated. The well-told gripe. He just wants a girl. “You should have racing stripes the way you keep me in pursuit.” Gets me every time. I don’t need to explain that. “Then do my knees you do promote me” - he’s almost at her mercy, as if to say being pushed down by this girl is a promotion. (Similar theme in She Does the Woods. “She turns my back to the earth and shows me that’s where I’m meant to be.” I’m just assuming by his consistent bottom position he likes to be… Dominated? Inappropriate. I digress.)

He’s stuck in the dark thinking of this girl. “The light it fidgets though, the thoughts’ll soon revert to you…” He’s stuck in the dark, or presumably at night (another major theme on this album; night time, sleep, darkness) thinking of her again. “About as bashful as a tribal dance” - tribal dances are the opposite of bashful. His thoughts aren’t bashful at all. They’re enough for him to later say “so let’s make a mess lioness.” His head pirouettes, or spins around more than he’d like to admit to himself or to the girl he’s thinking of.

The lines I have always struggled with are his circus sounding lines, which are the ones  about the acrobat falling off the beam. Where did it come from? Are his friends the audience, divided, telling him how he should feel about this girl? Is it her friends telling her to stay away from him? Who is the acrobat on the beam? Was he just like… this sounds right I’m doing it? (Maybe?) Those lines always stuck out to me because I couldn’t figure them out. I can’t make sense of them. If you have an idea, tell me. I’d love to know.

Some people/interviewers said that AM was the sexy, raunchy album that was kind of unexpected. I always disagreed because of Dangerous Animals. It’s him expressing a frustration, something sexual and laced in desire he can’t let go of. He’s losing sleep over it. He just wants her, doesn’t know how to get to her. It’s been long enough now, so just make a mess already. That line makes my stomach flip, every time. “make a mess, lioness.” Ugh.

BTS’s reaction to you starting a diet:

Jin: “But I wanted you to be a special guest on Eat Jin,” your boyfriend pouts (an impressive feat with his mouth full of food). He’s very against the idea of you going on a diet – who’s going to help him clear up all the food he can’t manage?

You raise an eyebrow, while he swallows and asks – “What? Do I have something on my face?”

“Just a little…” You reach across the table separating the two of you, and wipe some sauce from the corner of his lips, before popping your finger in your mouth.

Jin chuckles, “Isn’t eating that sauce against your diet?”

“It’s just sauce.”

“Sauce that’s high in fat and salt!”

“This is why you’re a rubbish boyfriend - making me break my diet. For shame!” You poke your tongue out at him.

Jin sighs. “Ah well, I guess if you’re on a diet now, that means more food for me. And I was going to order that ice-cream you like for the next episode of Eat Jin as well…”

That’s playing dirty! “You wouldn’t!” you scoff, knowing full well that he will, and that when you ask for a lick, just the tiniest taste – he’ll offer you the whole scoop - your favourite flavour too - and boom! there goes your diet, and all your good intentions. The worst part is – you won’t mind, because Jin’s kisses will taste that extra bit sweeter seeped in vanilla and strawberry ice-cream.

Originally posted by jeonsshi


Yoongi: Yoongi can tell something’s up. You’re being extremely quiet, and you haven’t touched any of the pizza on your plate. Jostled up beside your talkative friends, you’re like a lone grey cloud in the middle of a blue June sky.

Yoongi finishes off the crumbs on his own plate, then stands. “Well, I guess I’ll go wash up,” he says, “Y/N, do you wanna come help?”

You scrunch your nose at him, but follow him to the kitchen anyway, away from the busy chatter of your friends.

“Alright, what’s wrong?” Yoongi asks, when the two of you are out of earshot.

You fiddle with a loose strand on your sweater. “Nothing’s wrong.” There’s a moment of hesitation, and you pull at the thread a little harder, twisting it around your finger. “I just don’t want to eat too since I’ve -” The last part is mumbled.

“You’ve what?”

“…I’ve started dieting.” Your cheeks turn pink.

“Dieting?” Yoongi repeats, “Why?”

“I need to lose some weight.”

He shakes his head. “That’s simply not true. You’re the perfect weight, and I don’t want to hear you saying otherwise. I like you the way you are now.” He gives your arm a gentle poke. “I like this part.” He pokes your stomach. “And this part.” He moves up to your nose. “And this part. I like all of it. It’s all perfect.”

You blush, and bat his hand away. “Yeah, yeah… don’t get all mushy.” But when you go back to join your friends, Yoongi’s happy to see you tucking into a fat slice of pizza.

Originally posted by bangtannoonas


Hosoek: “Ugh…” That’s a sound you haven’t heard from Hoseok in a while – the sound he makes when he knows he’s fighting a losing battle against you. But he won’t give up without a fight - oh no! He’ll see a smile break through that perfected pout of yours, even if it means bringing out the big guns! An exaggerated eye-roll and a funny face secures his victory, and you can’t cap the laughter that fizzes up inside you - this is definitely the best way to deal with a couple’s quarrel.

“Stop that,” you bash playfully at his chest, and he bends over in feigned pain –

“Wow, Y/N, you’re so mean to me! And when I’m trying to help you out as well!”

It’s your turn to roll your eyes. “Hoseok, you stopping me from dieting isn’t going to help anything. I need to take better care of my health. You should be supporting this.”

He straightens up, straightens his face, and fixes you with a serious look. “Okay, I’ll support you – but only if you’re doing it for the right reasons.”

“I’m doing it to get healthier!”

“And you know that-”

“- that I’m completely gorgeous, with the perfect body, and that I don’t need to diet at all, and that you’re lucky to have me.”

He catches your face in his hands, palms pressing your cheeks softly, before he plunges in for a kiss. “Damn right.”

Originally posted by hoseokayo


Namjoon: “You dieting? Good one, babe.” Namjoon’s dimples deepen, his smile erupting into a fully-fledged laugh.

And then he realises you’re not joking. And his face falls. “Wait, really? You’re dieting? Why?” His mind kicks into overdrive, wondering, worrying about what could have caused this sudden decision. Before, you would have happily helped him finish off pizzas or ice-cream sundaes, but now you’re talking about empty calories and cutting carbs.

“I need to fix my figure,” you tell him, brow wrinkling into a frown.

Namjoon looks you up and down. “Babe…”

“What?”

His eyes trace your body a second time. “Babe.”

“What?” you demand again.

He shakes his head. “You do not need to get in shape. Your body is so sexy.”

“Sexy?” Your nose crinkles. “You think I’m sexy?”

“Unbelievably sexy.”

You consider this for a moment. Then – “Well… I guess if you think so, maybe I’m okay.”

“No, not just okay, but-”

“Sexy, right?” You finish his sentence for him, a glint in your eyes.

“Right! Sexy.” He purrs the word.

“Say it one more time.”

“Only if you promise to stop this talk of dieting.”

“Deal.”

“Sexy.”

Originally posted by myloveseokjin


Jimin: “But I bought all these biscuits for you!” Jimin gazes at the plate of cream-coated cookies in distress, then back up at you, his eyebrows furrowing. This isn’t how he imagined you accepting his date-night gift.

You grin sheepishly. “Sorry… I forgot to tell you I was starting a diet.”

“Can’t you leave it till tomorrow?”

Your mouth pops open in mock horror. “That would be cheating!”

“In all seriousness though, dieting’s no fun. Trust me, I’ve tried it before, and it didn’t make me any happier, or healthier.” Jimin’s mouth pulls down at the corners a little, before his usual smile returns. “Come on. Just one… they’re really tasty. Just take one.” As he says this, he picks up a cookie, and bites into it slowly, never breaking eye-contact with you. It’s a challenge. (Eat one! I dare you!)

You give in. Of course you do. It’s Jimin. Leaning towards him, you kiss some of the crumbs off the corner of his mouth, then, with the taste of sugar fresh on your tongue, you concede, “Maybe one or two couldn’t hurt.” A smug grin paints itself across Jimin’s face as you reach for the plate.

Tomorrow. You can start your diet tomorrow…

Or the day after that…

Originally posted by sugakookie


Taehyung: Taehyung doesn’t understand it. To him, you’re the most beautiful person he’s ever laid eyes on – you’re prettier than diamonds, and stardust, and wildflowers, and sunsets, and the pictures of waterfalls they stick on travel brochures. In short - you’re perfection personified. So, Taehyung can’t wrap his head around the idea of you dieting because you’re (quote) ‘so disgusting’.

It’s eating him up, knowing that you’re unhappy, and not knowing how he can fix it. All he can do is smile, and promise you that the voice in your head is lying to you. “But I never lie, Y/N. Not to you. Not about this.”

Still, your lips stay down-turned, eyes dull, not properly seeing him through your tears.

“Y/N…”

You wipe you eyes.

“Y/N, look at me.”

You blink a few times, and look up.

“Smile.”

You do. Despite all the negative thoughts that are bubbling around you, you manage to smile, and that’s all Taehyung needs to smile too.

“There, right there, that’s what perfection looks like.” He frames your face with his fingers, then slips his hands on down to your shoulders, looping around you and pulling you close.

Originally posted by bangtannoonas


Jungkook: “You’re what?” Jungkook cocks his head at you, looking like a confused puppy across the café table.

“Dieting…” you say past a mouthful of lettuce leaves, “Quit looking at me like that. I’m not speaking an alien language. D-i-e-t-i-n-g. Dieting.”

His head remains fixed in place, tilted to one side, the corners of his eyes scrunching up.

“Stop it!” You throw a napkin at him, which misses its target and floats down to the floor. You’re laughing, and he eventually breaks his gaze to chuckle as well.

“Okay, but seriously, why are you dieting?” His arms stretch across the table, reaching for your wrists as you bring another forkful of salad to your mouth.

A shrug is his answer. “I’ve just been feeling… I don’t know… ugly lately.”

“You don’t look ugly lately.”

Your eyes trail up to his. “You’re just saying that because you’re my boyfriend - you have to say nice things.”

“No way!” He leans further over the table, cupping your face in his hands, “Listen, if you want to diet for your health – fine. But I don’t ever want you thinking you’re ugly, because -  honestly! cross my heart and hope to die! - you are-” (he leans forward and kisses you) “- gorgeous.”

Originally posted by bwibelle


! none of the gifs are mine !

Okay, but Yuri at some point realising that “Being friends with Beka is lit and stuff, but actually I want to kiss and hold hands”, and deciding he needs to do something about it, but the same time they meet he becomes a blushy mess? Like, he looks at Otabek longer than one second and all the thoughts like shit he’s so cool what I even thought I can’t tell him this damn he’s looking at me keep it cool and every time Otabek smiles at him, he becomes flaming torch. 
And everyone is like “wtf is happening is Yuri sick? He never blushes”, and Otabek is worried the most because it’s he’s Yura who barely talks next to him and excuses himself to the toilet 5 times in an hour (and Otabek is the one who invents word pinning in this universum, so he’s very worried). 
And when Yuri comes back, even more redder than before, Otabek is standing concerned in front of him and hands on Yuri’s cheeks, forcing him to look into his eyes and asking “What’s wrong with you?” and Yuri can only sigh dramatically and reply “Your face is wrong. Kiss me or I will die here”. 
You know what happens next.

#357 [Finn Balor; Part 1/2]

Requested, #357: “When is a monster not a monster?” “When you love it.” - Demon!Finn (Prompt from here.)

Author Note: So this is a Demon!Finn AU type story. It was inspired somewhat by the way the TV show Charmed was explained. This is my first AU style story and I hope it flows well. It’s really long, like 6000 words long.

There will be a Part Two. And it will have a lot more Demon!Finn, and a lot more…intimacy. ;)


Special shout out to @chasingeverybreakingwave @ratherkissawookiee @running-ropes & @heelturn-timesten for their feedback, support, and inspiration.

Gif from @actofbalor.

@superkixbaybay @heelcharlie @ihtscuddlesbeeetchx3 @valeonmars @pjanina13 @spot-of-bother @bolieve-that @m-a-t-91 @chasingeverybreakingwave @not-that-kinda-gurl08 @heelturn-timesten @imaginingwwesuperstars @running-ropes @wrestlingnoob @daintymissdevitt @nickysmum1909 @ambrosegirlforever @mistressbalor  @balorsdomain  @cosmicswimming  @rollinsbabe @ileana0300  @purgatoryhatesme  @squirrel666 @alexahood21 @bitchesgonnabemad @thegenericluchadora



Arms wide open, I stand alone.
I’m no hero, and I’m not made of stone.
Right or wrong, I can hardly tell.
I’m on the wrong side of heaven, and the righteous side of hell.

When you met Finn, he had been the definition of a total sweetheart. You’d been at a bar/restaurant with friends, at the bar part, of course. While waiting to order your drink, you’d been smashed into by some random. Finn had been the one to steady you on your feet and ask if you were OK. That had led to chit-chat, then to a conversation, and on to your group sitting with his group to enjoy the night.

He’d been practically bashful when he asked you out on your first date, and equally adorable throughout the occasion.

As you got to know Finn, you found him entirely endearing and enjoyed listening to him tell stories of his life in Ireland and his travels for wrestling. When you spoke about your own life, his gaze never left your face, and he always had questions to ask of you. There was a gentleness to him, from his voice to his eyes to his smile. He made you feel safe, supported, wanted.

The months passed easily, with the two of you seeing each other with every opportunity. Finn traveled for work, but on average, you were together most nights of the week. It alternated between your place and his.

Keep reading

Dive

Title: Dive

Pairing: Female reader x Dean

Theme song: Dive by Ed Sheeran

Summary: Dean’s catching feelings for the reader and needs to be convinced to dive in

A/N: This song just has such quiet bar vibes. 

Word count: 2,000ish

Your name: submit What is this?

The old bartender working the quiet Tuesday afternoon shift had poured Dean another glass of whiskey before he’d even opened his mouth to ask for it. Dean looked up from his hands long enough to give a nod of thanks before pulling the new glass to his lips and taking a sip.

The bartender returned the bottle to its shelf and smiled behind his wiry beard.

“Thought you could use another,” he said, “You’ve got that look.”

“You’re not wrong,” Dean said.  The man waited; Dean said nothing.

“So what is it?” he pressed. “Love? Money?”

“Those the usual culprits?” Dean asked. The bartender kept his smile, waiting. Dean looked down at his glass again and turned it slow in his hands. Pushing away from the counter, the old man grabbed a mostly dirty rag and started away, taking the hint and his leave.

“You let me know if you need another,” he said over his shoulder.

Keep reading

Cold

Jughead x reader

In which Jughead is an asshole because he doesn’t know how to deal with feelings.

*requested*


For as long as Jughead and I have known each other, he has disliked me. When we first met, I had nothing against him. In fact, I tried to be friendly, but was brushed off with his cold expression and rolling eyes. 

“And, this is Jughead!” Betty declared, finishing the introduction of her friends to me, as she showed me around the school. At this point my nerves had been settled by how friendly everyone else had been, and so I smiled widely as I surveyed the boy in front of me. He was sitting back on one of the sofas in the student common room. He looked up and it seemed for a moment as though he was going to return my smile and greet me, but I watched an inner turmoil in his eyes before his small smile dropped and his face became an impassive mask.

“Hey! I’m Y/N.” I said, standing in front of him excitedly. He simply looked me up and down critically and raised his eyebrows. 

“Okay.” And with that he went back to his sandwich. I was a little taken aback, but shook it off and sat next to him. 

“So, any advice for my first day?” I asked him, crossing my legs. He had taken a laptop out of his bag, and was typing quickly.

“No.” He muttered, not looking at me. I frowned.

“Well, there’s no need to be rude.” 

“There’s also no need to be so irritating, but you’re doing that anyway.” He said, and my mouth fell open. 

“Jughead!” Betty exclaimed. What the hell was his problem?

“I’m sorry, have I done something to offend you?” I asked, turning to him. He rolled his eyes.

“Well first of all, you have just strolled in here like we invited you, which we didn’t, and you’re already infuriating me, so I don’t suggest you stick around.” 

“Dude!” Archie shouted, frowning incredulously at Jughead. “What the hell?”
Betty too, was looking at him as if she didn’t recognise him.
Jughead just shrugged nonchalantly, looking down. I was outraged. I barely know this guy, and already he’s making judgements about me?

“What is wrong with you?” I asked him, fuming. He sighed exasperatedly, shutting his laptop and standing up.

“I’m out.” He muttered, picking up his bag and walking out of the room. I was left staring in shock at the place he had just been. Betty hurriedly came and sat next to me, looking concerned.

“Y/N I am so sorry about him, he’s never normally like that, I don’t…” She looked at Archie for an explanation of their friend’s behaviour, but he looked just as clueless.

“Well, whatever the reason, what he said wasn’t true.” Betty told me kindly. Archie shook his head quickly.

“Not at all. You should keep hanging out with us.” He said seriously. I hesitated.

“But, what about…” I gestured to the door Jughead had left through.

“Don’t worry about him. He can’t choose who we are friends with, and anyway, he’ll probably come around.”

He didn’t. 

We spent the next year taking part in dialogical fights and comeback battles. He’d make a snide remark at me, and I’d snap back in agitation. We’d both roll our eyes, he would insult me outright, and I’d pretend it didn’t affect me as I threw a sarcastic remark in his direction. 

There were times when, in the heat of the moment, he seemed to forget his hatred of me and we would laugh together. And other times I’d catch him looking at me, his face open and friendly: the Jughead I wish I knew. But then our eyes would meet and as quickly as he had opened he would close up and his face would become deadpan again. Our friends had long given up trying to make peace between us: neither of us were going to back down.

Nothing in our relationship changed for a long time. And when it did, it wasn’t in the way either of us expected.

“Morning Betty, Ronnie, Archie, Kevin.” I said, setting my things down at the table and enjoying the roll of Jughead’s eyes as I purposefully ignored him.

“Hey.” Said Ronnie. “I like your outfit.” My smile of thanks dropped when I heard a scoff from the other end of the table.

“Have something to say, Jones?” I asked him icily. The rest of the table groaned as they knew we would once again begin fighting.

“Oh, nothing, just that it’s funny watching people compliment you out of pity.”
“Sorry, Jughead, are you in my head?” Veronica sassed. “Because last time I checked you weren’t.” He shrugged casually.

“Sorry Ronnie, I just can’t take anyone seriously when they say nice things Y/N.” I rose from my seat, infuriated and ready to fight him. Kevin quickly stood up with his food.

“I’m leaving. This is about to get nasty.”

“Me too.” Said Betty, joining him. 

“Yeah, sorry guys.” Archie and Veronica agreed, standing up and leaving the table. We were left alone.

“Would you look at that.” Jughead observed with faux amazement. “You drove away all our friends. What a surprise!” 

“Actually, I think that was you.” I muttered angrily, looking down at him. He smirked up at me.

“Now, why would it be me, when you’re the one who forced them to be your friends in the first place.” He asked, and I narrowed my eyes at him.

“What did you just say?” He stood up, his sarcastic façade dropping as he glared at me.

“I can’t believe you still don’t get this. When you came to this school, Betty showed you around, and you wormed your way into our friendship group, and now I can’t get rid of you. You aren’t wanted here! The rest of them only hang out with you because they’re too nice to tell you they don’t want to be friends with you. But I’m not, so on behalf of them Y/N, you should just stay away from us.” 

There was a long silence as I took in his words. I had always been insecure about whether I was wanted in this friendship group, and Jughead had just voiced my silent fears. We normally threw petty insults at each other and left it at that, but this was different. His words were ringing in my head as we stood across from each other and held eye contact. If I didn’t know better, I would say he looked guilty for what he had just said. His mouth was open in a way that looked like he wanted to say something, but didn’t know what. I shook myself out of my thoughts, looking down. He waited for me to make a snappy, witty comeback, but I didn’t have one. Not this time. 

“Bye, Jughead.” I said quietly, picking up my bag and watching his face drop as I walked away.

I spent the next week alone. I knew I couldn’t really trust what Jughead said; he made stuff up all the time just to mess with me, but there was a lingering doubt in my mind that what he said was true, and I couldn’t get rid of it. So, I stayed away from Betty and Veronica and Archie and anyone I had previously called my friends. I knew they were confused. I didn’t miss Betty’s hurt face when I would deliberately turn away from her in the corridor, and I couldn’t ignore Veronica when she slammed my locker shut and asked me fiercely what was wrong. I remember mumbling some excuse about having too much work and hurrying away. 

They don’t want you around, I had to keep reminding myself when I turned away from Archie’s smile in my direction, or brushed off Betty’s desperate hand on my arm. She caught up with me after class and blocked the doorway.

“Y/N, what is going on? Is it something to do with Jughead?” She asked me anxiously. 

“I’m sorry Bets, I can’t.” I told her quietly, and walked past her, pushing down tears. It had been a week since I had had a proper conversation with any of them, and it was starting to get to me. I pushed my way into an empty classroom to eat my lunch. I was halfway through my food when the door was pushed open and I almost choked to death as Jughead barged his way in and strode towards me. I coughed, putting down my food and standing up.

“What are you doing in here?” I asked aggressively.

“Looking for you.” He said out of breath, looking quite flustered. “Look, will you just come and eat with us? Everyone’s miserable without you.” I scoffed.

“Well, whose fault is that?” I glared at him. He sighed, frowning. There was a silence as I waited for him to say something.

“Look, this is hard for me, but…” He struggled, looking anywhere but me. “I’m sorry, okay?” He looked up at me nervously. What kind of half-assed apology was that? I laughed dryly, and his frown returned.

“What? I just apologised to you, and you’re laughing?” He asked angrily, and I raised my eyebrows at him.

“Oh, that was an apology? Yeah, good one Jughead, why don’t you try again and I’ll see if I can hear it over your ego this time.” He threw his hands in the air.

“You are unbelievable.”

I’m unbelievable?” I asked incredulously.

“I don’t even know what you’re upset about.”

“You don’t know?”

“You’re overreacting.”

“Seriously?”

“Stop being so dramatic!”

“Stop being such an ass!”

“You first!”

“What is wrong with you?”

“You’re what’s wrong with me!” He screamed. We both stopped. We were standing about an inch away from each other, both breathing heavily. His eyes were wild and angry as they stared down at me.
The silence and the tension were unbearable, and just as I was about to say something else I was cut off because suddenly his lips were on mine. His hands were on my cheeks and mine were in his hair and we were desperate and angry as he pushed me back against the desk and I pushed the beanie from his head. The kiss was fierce and eager and when we separated I was breathless. He leaned his head forward so his forehead was touching mine and I closed my eyes as his hands moved to my waist. We rested for a moment, and my head was reeling as I caught my breath.

“It’s not true.” He started quietly, and I opened my eyes to see his staring into mine. “None of what I said is true.” I nodded, believing him.

“Okay.”

“We want you with us. I want you with me.” I pulled my head away from him to better see his face.

“Then why…” I trailed off but he knew what I meant. He shook his head quickly, his eyes clenched shut in self-disgust.

“I don’t know… I don’t know, Y/N. There was something about you. I guess… I knew I liked you from the beginning, but I didn’t know how to… God, I’m such an idiot.” He looked down, removing his hands from me and drawing them away, but I caught them in my own and pulled his lips back onto mine. This time the kiss was sweet, gentle and unsure. His lips were soft and tentative, as if he was afraid he would hurt me. It was a massive contrast from the passionate, angry Jughead who had kissed like he needed me to live.

“I don’t care. It’s okay.” I told him as I pulled away and he put his hands on my cheeks again. He spoke in a whisper,

“I’ll make it up to you, I swear.”

“You’re going to make up an entire year of insults? Yeah, good luck.” I taunted, and he grinned.

“Well to be fair, you insulted me back pretty harshly. In fact, some of what you said really hurt my feelings.” I laughed.

“Did it? Well then I guess we both have some making up to do.” 

As I pulled him in again, I didn’t know what would happen in the future. I knew we couldn’t just suddenly go from hating each other to whatever this was; I couldn’t ignore what had happened. I didn’t even know what I felt for Jughead. All I knew was how good his lips felt against mine, and that I felt something, and that I wasn’t going to let it go.


I’m sorry this is so long (and bad) 

Doubts

Originally posted by sanestilinski


Pairing: Montgomery de la Cruz x Reader

Request: “40 – Montgomery de la Cruz”

Prompt:

40. “Your girlfriend hates me too.”

Word count: 1.890

Posted: 22nd of May 2017

A/N: Here’s another imagine from Aja’s long list. I am happy to say that I’ve almost made through her list and I might post two imagines tomorrow. Who knows? I am hoping.
Anyways, I hope that you like this imagine. I hate myself, because I keep on coming up with sad endings. Sorry. HAHAHA. A massive thank you for your support guys and I love you so much. I am happy to receive some positive feedbacks from you and your nice comments really make my day complete. Thank you so so so much, really! Enjoy this imagine!

P.S.: I am not accepting part 2 requests for my prompt imagines. Sorry.

- G. x 

Link: Prompt list

Warning: contains swearing


“(Y/N), I need a muse for my Arts project, please.” Tyler, your best friend, insisted for the millionth time as he wanted you to model for him. He was the professional photographer of your school and he took pictures of everyone, but he has always wanted to have his own personal muse.

“Ty, I know that I’ve always been your muse, but I am busy this week. C'mon!” You answered, miffed. You explained him for more than thirty minutes why you were turning him down that time, but it didn’t seem that he understood your point.

“Damn!” He unleashed a heavy sigh as he watched you getting the things you needed for your Science class in your locker. “Who’s going to be my muse now?”

“I don’t know, Ty.” You shoved your books in your backpack and you carelessly shut your locker’s door. “Sorry.” You’ve never declined his offer, because you always had fun during your photoshoots with him, but you were really busy and you really felt sorry for him.

“Can’t you think of anyone who might accept my offer?” He desperately asked and followed you along the hallway as you started to walk towards your class.

You didn’t want to disappoint your best friend and you knew how paranoid he became when it came to searching for his muse. He never had this problem, since you’ve always accepted his offer, and he didn’t know what to do, panic was surely occupying his emotions.

You knew Tyler and he would always stick to only one subject for his school projects. You surely disappointed him, but he couldn’t blame you, because he knew that you had your own life too.

“Ty, why don’t you ask Jessica or Sheri?” You suggested as you stopped yourself from walking, which caused you and Tyler to bump into each other, fortunately not hurting yourselves.

“Alright, but you owe me one.” He was offended, but Tyler was a sweetheart and he understood serious things quickly. He was your best friend because he knew how to cope with you and how to respect your own decisions.

“No, I don’t!” You playfully replied, giggling as you saw him flashing his sweetest smile.

“Of course, you do.” He winked at you as he fidgeted with the cameras dangling on his neck. You both laughed, nevertheless it wasn’t really a big deal.

“I need to go, Ty.” You flashed him a smile as you thrusted your head to your classroom’s direction. He nodded with a big and wide smile on his face.

“Take care, okay?” He reminded you and you just nodded as you started to walk again, increasing the distance between the two of you. “You owe me something, remember that!”

“She doesn’t!” You heard a deep voice along the hallway and you perfectly knew to whom it belonged: Montgomery, your boyfriend.

“What do you want, Montgomery?” Tyler’s shaky voice demanded for you to turn around and to check what was going on between them. The hallway was almost empty and some students were already in their respective classrooms. “(Y/N) is my best friend, I have the right to talk to her.”

“No, you leave her alone.” Your eyes widen and you quickly ran back to Tyler and Montgomery as you heard a sudden loud and sharp bang against the cold metal locker doors. “Freak!”

“Monty!” You stopped your boyfriend, but he just grabbed Tyler’s midnight blue button up shirt and tightened his grip as much as he could.

“Fucking leave her alone.” Montgomery threatened your best friend with his angry voice and eyes widened, showing that the sight of Tyler talking to you displeased and vexed him.

“These are thousand dollar cameras.” Your best friend tried to defend himself, protecting his beloved cameras. He really loved them, because photography was his life and favourite hobby too. You stood in front of them and you thought that your presence would have stopped Montgomery from pushing Tyler against the lockers behind him.

“Oh, yeah.” Montgomery nodded as he looked straight into Tyler’s eyes. He was struggling a little bit as Tyler was little taller than him. “I’ll break them on your face.”

“Montgomery, stop!” You pushed your boyfriend away, pulling his fist off Tyler’s clothes.

Montgomery was acting up, because he was jealous of your relationship with Tyler. You surely knew Tyler longer than you and Montgomery did, so he was afraid that you would leave him for your best friend.

“Threatening Tyler with your useless shit wouldn’t help you to ruin my relationship with him, okay?” You fiercely looked at your boyfriend’s eyes as you let him understand that he was doing the wrong thing.

“Don’t worry,” Tyler blurted out as he fixed his crumpled shirt. “your girlfriend hates me too.” He pointed out as he was referring to your action before, declining his proposal to be his muse. He shrugged his shoulders off, trying to assure Montgomery.

“Cut it off, Tyler!” You rolled your eyes. “I can do this on my own, go to your next class and I will see you later.”

“Alright, fine!” Tyler guiltily responded as he walked quickly through the empty corridors of your school. You watched his silhouette disappearing slowly from afar and you turned yourself to your still-miffed-boyfriend.

“Let’s go, de la Cruz!” You grabbed his forearm and you dragged him to the main entrance of your school. “We’re talking about your behaviour, because I am starting to be fed up. Okay?”

You heard him unleashing a long sigh and he foresaw the trouble that he was into. He was just afraid to lose you and you couldn’t blame him, but he was overreacting and he was menacing someone who meant a lot to you.

You both sat down on a bench, putting your school materials aside, and you inhaled some fresh air first, before you let the happening sink in your mind once again. The rage wrapped your body one more time and you looked at Montgomery, trying to catch his gaze.

“Fuck this silence!” Montgomery threw a fit and he stood up from the bench. He seriously considered your eyes and he saw your dull gaze. “I’m sorry, okay? I was just jealous.”

“I know, Montgomery,” You unleashed a deep and heavy sigh. You couldn’t believe that he was still jealous of Tyler and you were already dating for almost five months, five long months. “but you couldn’t keep on threatening my best friend whenever your jealousy takes control of your good and kind heart.”

“Of course, I can.” He bravely objected your statement. “I’m your boyfriend, he’s just your best friend.”

You knew Montgomery and he was a tough guy. He would do anything to protect you and your relationship. He would fight against people to maintain the bond between the two of you.

You loved him even though he was like that and you were trying to let him understand that he should stop worrying about your relationship, because your heart beat only for him. In fact, he was the perfect boyfriend that you could ever wish for, but all of us had our own imperfections. Montgomery’s imperfection was this: his inability to control his anger and his jealousy.

“It doesn’t work that way. Do you know that?” You remained calm as you fidgeted with your long dark sleeves. Finally shaking off the thought that you were skipping your class for a pointless chaos. You tried to not to cry, because you had to be strong. He had to listen to you and you knew that he wouldn’t if you just broke down.

“He is obstructing our relationship, (Y/N). I would be worried if I didn’t care about what he was doing, you know?” He debated, not getting the real point of your opinion. He was a hard-headed guy and you sometimes despised him for being one.

“No, Montgomery!” You protested, standing up from the bench. “You know what is obstructing our relationship?”

“Tyler!” He stated as he raised his voice, still convinced that the real cause was Tyler. You shook your head continuously to let him know that his answer was wrong. He wasn’t stupid, but he was blinded by his jealousy. Of course.

“Wrong!” You whispered as you leant towards him, diminishing the distances of your faces. “Your trust, Montgomery.” You poked his chest with your index finger as you ferociously pointed out. “Trust.”

“Okay, I had my doubts, but that doesn’t mean that I didn’t trust you.” Montgomery lowered his voice as he calmly explained his thoughts, but you thought that they were just some sort of excuses.

“Your doubts?” You questioned him. “You had your doubts again?”

“Yes!” He bravely answered, almost shouting against you.

“And you want us to be together, nevertheless your doubts?” You asked him, being sure of what he had in his mind. Tears were about to escape, but you stopped them. You needed to be strong, remember? You couldn’t believe that he doubted on you once again, even though you never missed any chance to make him feel that you loved him. He doubted on you and it seriously hurt you.

“Yes!” He repeated with a sure and convinced voice timbre. He didn’t notice that you were hurt and he still kept his pride, shielding himself against your opinion.

“You know what those doubts are doing in our relationship?” You mumbled, the words were almost couldn’t be heard.

“No.” His feet suddenly became more interesting than seeing your face. His voice died as he honestly responded to your question.

“They are wrecking us.” You weakly blurted out. You couldn’t imagine your life without Montgomery and it broke you, everything broke you. “So, if you don’t want to lose me, start shaking off those doubts, because I love you. You, only you, and no one else, Montgomery!”

You grabbed your backpack and your books from the bench as you slowly walked away from Montgomery, leaving him with his mouth ajar. You decided to head to your Science class, although you were already late. It was always better to be late, than never. Right?

The journey was hard and heavy for you. The love that you were feeling for Montgomery was pulling you to bring you back next to him. You wanted to let him know that he would never lose you, no matter what happened between the two of you. He would never lose you, because you didn’t want to lose him either.

You loved Montgomery so much, but he doubted on you. It was heart-breaking, because you didn’t expect that he would doubt on you again, the first time was when he didn’t know that Tyler was your best friend and he thought that you were cheating on him. Sad, right? But he was excused that time.

You walked away from him and you let your tears to run down your face, letting your resentments out. Tears were slowly burning your crimson red cheeks.

He had his point on being jealous of your relationship with Tyler, but doubting on you? That was wrong, because, after all, doubts were the one who ruined relationships the most.

Montgomery hurt you and you would always forgive him, he just needed to realize his mistake after you opened his eyes.

It was better to be safe than to be sorry, right? Right.


"You’re mister J’s new obsession, Sugar” 1/3- Bruce Wayne x Reader

Summary : You have been married to Bruce for quite some years now, and you both knew it was inevitable that you’d get in danger one day…but you really never expected the Joker to start to be obsessed with you. CHAPTER 1/3. 

Warnings : mentions of sex, also, Bruce is “old” if that bothers you in any way…If your like me and have a thing for older guys, then carry on please.

PART TWO PART THREE

(My master list, by the way : Right here )

_______________________________________________________________________

Looking at yourself in the mirror of your bathroom, you groaned and turned around to glare at your husband that was taking a shower. He immediately felt that you were staring, but to his disappointment, it wasn’t for the reason he hoped for…

-Is something wrong dear ? 

-Yes Bruce, something’s wrong. How old are you ? 

-…What ? 

-Just answer my question honey. 

-…Hum, 46 ?

-Yes. 46. You’re 46 years old.  

At the way you were looking at him, mad as Hell, standing in the frame of the shower door that you just violently swung open, billionaire ex-playboy superhero Bruce Wayne got kinda worried. He was trying to figure out what he did that could have pissed you off that much, as you were really difficult to annoy, almost never getting angry…But boy when you were angry, it was scary. Apparently now though, you were more annoyed than mad. So he was trying to remember what he could have done. 

Keep reading

Summer Secrets

Hey this is the first imagine I’ve written on my new Riverdale blog! I’m basing this on the show, as I have little to no knowledge on the comics. Hope y'all enjoy!

Part 2: https://beronica-josie.tumblr.com/post/157174526553/summer-secrets-part-2

Part 3: https://beronica-josie.tumblr.com/post/157457207683/summer-secrets-part-3

Part 4: https://beronica-josie.tumblr.com/post/158317245213/summer-secrets-part-4

Part 5: https://beronica-josie.tumblr.com/post/158334216753/summer-secrets-part-5

Masterlist: https://beronica-josie.tumblr.com/post/157919516668/masterlist

Summary: You move back to town after years and decide to remake yourself. Betty and Veronica push Archie to find a date to the dance and he asks you out. Little do they know, you had a summer fling with Jughead that ended badly, although you both still have feelings for each other.

You lived in Riverdale until fourth grade, when your dad landed a great job in another town. You never really had many friends, so you knew nobody would really care, but the hardest part was leaving the boy you liked. Archie, Jughead, and Betty would always be playing together on the playground and you couldn’t help but follow them around, hoping that they’d let you be their friend. They were nice to you, but never really understood why you were always around.

It was the summer before sophomore year when your dad lost his job and decided to move back to his hometown of Riverdale. Again, you never really had any friends, so it wasn’t hard to move. You decided to remake yourself over the summer, before unveiling the new you on the first day of school. You wouldn’t tell anybody you had come back until then. Unfortunately, that plan didn’t work, since you moved into the house next to Jughead.

It was the first day of school, and you worked hard on your hair and makeup so you could fit in better. Before first period, you saw Archie and Betty talking, but couldn’t gather the courage to say hi. There was no sign of Jughead anywhere. The rest of the day went by uneventful, with nobody bothering to talk to you. You were so tired of being ignored that when you heard about cheerleading tryouts, you made yourself try out. You needed to make friends, and you were pretty good at dancing so why not? The audition went pretty well and you were soon welcomed to the team. Things were looking up for you.

The next day, you strutted down the halls in your new cheerleading uniform and your favorite shade of lipstick. You felt powerful and ready to take on the world, so when you saw Archie, Betty, Jughead, and some other girl you didn’t even hesitate. “Hey, Archie. Hey, Betty.” you said nonchalantly before walking off.

“Who was that?” Veronica asked after you were out of earshot.

“[Y/N] [Y/L/N],” Jughead sighed as he leaned against a locker a few feet away, his gaze moving to the floor.

“Wait, that’s [Y/N]?” Archie asked, surprised to see you back in town. He craned his neck around his open locker to try to get another look at you, but you’d already rounded a corner.

“Who is [Y/N]?” Veronica asked Betty, looking puzzled.

“She used to live here when we were little. She always followed us around on the playground because she had a crush on Archie. I guess she moved back to town.” Betty stated.

“She doesn’t even seem like the same person.” Archie said, still awestruck by you.

THE NEXT DAY

Betty, Veronica, Archie, and Kevin were sitting together for lunch, discussing the next school dance.

“Oh come on, Archie, who are you gonna take to the dance?” Veronica asked.

“If you don’t decide soon, then we’re going to have to find a date for you,” Betty teased.

“I can find you a date, but it probably won’t be a girl,” Kevin interjected, causing everyone to laugh.

“No, I don’t need you to find me a date. There’s already someone I like.” Archie stated. He couldn’t tell them about Ms. Grundy, but he couldn’t let them set him up with some random girl he didn’t know either.

There was a collective “oooohhhh” at the table. “Who is it?” Veronica demanded.

“Uh, you’ll see at the dance.” Archie said, hoping his lie came off as nerves.

“Somebody’s just being shy.” Veronica teased.

“Yeah.” Archie sighed, frustrated that he was now in this situation.

THAT EVENING.

Archie and Jughead sat at a booth at Pop’s, both drinking milkshakes.

“Archie, what’s wrong? You seem distant.” Jughead asked, after popping the cherry from his shake into his mouth.

Archie sighed before explaining the situation he was in. “I need to find a girl who isn’t caught up in any of this drama, so it doesn’t cause any more problems.” He finished.

“None of this would be happing if it weren’t for Grundy,” Jughead leaned in and whispered to Archie, looking around to make sure nobody had heard him.

“Listen, Jughead, I know. But it’s happened.” Archie stated dryly, not pleased with Jughead’s reaction.

Jughead saw Archie’s face, and sighed. “How about that girl in our biology class? The one with the glasses?” He suggested.

You entered Pop’s Diner from the door behind the booth they were sitting at. Archie faced the door and saw you come in.

“Hey Archie.” You greeted him as you walked past the booth, making sure not to look at Jughead.

“Hey,” Archie waved as you walked by. Suddenly, his face lit up with an idea. “Wait, [Y/N].”

You turned around and walked back to their table. You snuck a tiny glance at Jughead, who had his full attention on his milkshake. “Yeah Archie?” You asked pleasantly.

“Uh, I was wondering…” Archie sounded nervous. “Do you wanna go to the dance with me?”

Jughead coughed loudly, clearly startled by what was happening. You smirked. This must be driving him up a wall, you thought. “Sure, Archie. Let me give you my number.” He handed you his phone and you could feel Jughead’s intense gaze on you as you put your number into Archie’s phone. You handed his phone back.

“I’ll text you when I get home. Bye, Archie.” You glanced at Jughead. “Bye, Jughead.” You said sweetly, knowing it would make him angry.

You stopped by the counter to pay for your food, before you headed for the door. You couldn’t help but look at Jughead. He was staring at you with anger and sadness in his eyes. You felt bad for what you just did to him, but oh well. He was the one who ended it. You held his gaze for a second as the memories washed over you.

FLASHBACK

It was the 4th of July, the third day after you moved to Riverdale. You only hung out in your house and sometimes sat on the curb reading when you wanted to get outside. That night you were rereading your favorite book as a figure walked down the street. It was Jughead. He had already known you moved back, as your parents made you greet the neighbors the day you moved.

“Hey Jughead.” You said, glancing up from your book.

“Hey.” Jughead sounded angry.

You closed your book and set it on the curb before standing up. “What’s wrong?” You asked, standing in front of him so he couldn’t move past you.

“Please just move, [Y/N].” He sighed.

“Tell me what’s wrong.” You demanded.

He sighed. “I was supposed to hang out with an old friend, but he cancelled on me at the last minute.”

“Archie?” You asked.

He nodded, and you could tell he was angry and hurt.

“Well why don’t you come in and have a frosted lemonade with an old friend?” You asked. He was the only person your age that knew you were back in Riverdale, why not have a friend to hang out with?

He smirked at your effort, but still refused. “No, I just want to go home.”

“Oh come on. Nobody can resist my frosted lemonade.” Before he could protest, you grabbed his hand and dragged him up the stairs into your house. His warm hand on yours sent tiny lightening bolts all the way up your arm.

After a nice conversation and a drink, you remembered something.

“Oh, Jughead I have something to show you!” You said excitedly, as you grabbed his hand again. You felt the tiny shock again as you lead him upstairs and into your room.

“Sit there.” You gestured to a spot on your bed, as you headed into your closet to retrieve something. After a few minutes of searching you found it.

You emerged from the closet holding up a tiny necklace. It had your initials and the letters JJ engraved on a heart. “Do you remember this? Your mom made you give it to me because she wanted us to get married.” You laughed. “I forgot that I used to call you JJ.”

He laughed, “Nobody else would call me that, but you. You always thought it was funny that nobody else thought of that.”

“Here put it on me.” You said excitedly handing it to him, and turning around so he could clasp the necklace around your neck.

His hands gently reached around your neck and closed the necklace. You felt the same warmth on your neck as his fingers touched the back of your neck. You blushed slightly, thinking about your old crush.

“Hey, I want to tell you something.” You said turning around. “You know how I followed you guys around a lot when we were little?”

“Yeah.”

“Well I didn’t really have any friends and I followed you around because I had a really big crush.”

“Yeah, I remember you liked Archie.”

“No, JJ. It was you I had a crush on.” You said, looking into his eyes. He stared into your eyes intensely.

“Really?” He asked quietly, taking a step closer to you. What was happening? You asked yourself.

“Yeah.” You said, your breathing started to get heavier.

Before you knew what was happening, Jughead had placed a hand under your chin, pushing it up so he could meet his lips with yours.

PRESENT DAY

You snapped out of your daydream. Jughead was still staring at you angrily. You didn’t care. He was the one who hurt you. You turned towards the door and walked out.

RFA+Saeran Suicidal MC

Can you write headcanons for the rfa and saeran with an mc who wants to kill herself because she feels like she doesn’t matter and nothing she does will ever matter

I got this prompt before things went downhill on my end, and I’m so sorry it has taken me a while until I was able to write this for you, anon.

I really hope you’re doing okay, and know that you’re loved. Please if you need help, remember to talk to loved ones, friends, or to look up suicide hotlines for your area (Google as an incognito mode if you’re stressed about your history). If you’re thinking of therapy I used to use BetterHelp.com. They had an app and it was nice not having to voice all the negatives, just writing them down. And some places offer free therapy as well.

Do not be ashamed for wanting/needing help. It’s so much better than the alternative.


Zen

- He showered you with compliments on the daily.

- He didn’t know you. You were still just some person behind a text message screen.

- Why did he care so much?

- Out of the camera’s prying eyes, you locked yourself in the late Rika’s room, curling up beside her bed.

- She was so much better than you in every way, so much more lovable, likeable. No one ever batted an eye to you unless it was just to be flirted with.

- You knew those advances would go away the moment they saw you for who you were.

- Some over-depressed whiny fuck.

-  You covered your face, hating how harsh you had to be to yourself, when you heard the phone ring. You peaked over, the action seemingly taking over a year, but you recognized the face on the ID.

- Zen.

- You answered, a low “Hello”, to which he acted surprised to.

- “Eh? Are you sick? Did our RFA princess get a cold?

- Silence. Long enough that you heard him shuffle with the phone, probably to check if you were still on the line.

- “Mc? Hey, are you okay?

- “Why do you care?”

- “…What kind of question is that?

- You scoffed.

- “Hey, whats up? What’s wrong?

- “What, you going to just flirt with me? Save the damsel in distress who you don’t even know?” You swallowed, the action making your throat feel like it was being torn apart. 

- “I do know-

- “No you don’t! You don’t even know what I look like, let alone how I act! How I really am! Just some selfish fuck up who can’t even compare to that Rika girl you all keep talking about!”

- Silence again, and your felt your heart manage to break even more. “That’s what I thought, you can’t even-”

- “No, I’m still here. I’m listening.

- “To what?”

- “To you. To you venting. Mc, please just. Keep going.

- Out of anger you did. Anger towards yourself, towards the group. He listened. He listened as anger turned into broken sobs that had your chest heaving.

- He kept quiet for a moment, making sure he wasn’t interrupting you again.

- “You’re right, I don’t know you. I don’t know what you look like, but you know what? I don’t care. Because while I don’t know you that well, I know already you’re a good person. You’re helping us while your heart is so burdened with stress, while you have the weight of us on your shoulders. Do you know how many others would do that? None. In fact, the one that did is gone now. And even as upset you are with us talking about her, you’re still willing to help, you’re still willing to listen to idiot romantics like me, while you’re struggling so much. But you know what? We’re here for you. These strangers that you’re taking care of, we’re here for you too. No matter how silly, no matter how late, you can call me. Text me. If you feel like this please, please, just talk to me or one of the guys who makes you feel more comfortable, if you can’t talk to anyone else. Just please, yell at me, blame me, but god please don’t do anything to yourself.

- “I-I-I’m so ssorry-”

- “Don’t. We all have our bad moment. When I see you at that party, I’ll give you all the hugs I can’t give you right now, and all the ones no one else was able to give you. So stick around until then at least, okay?”

- You nodded, even though he couldn’t see you. “O-Okay.”

- He stayed on the phone with you to calm you down, getting you to agree to sleep on the couch so Seven could make sure you were okay. He stayed on the phone for hours, just listening, singing at times, humming encouragement. 

- And when the two of you finally met, he couldn’t let go of you, and you never wanted to let go of him.

Jumin

- He was used to coming home and you greeting him with a smile, warming his heart and taking the stress from work that day. Even Elizabeth 3rd didn’t have that effect all the time

- But seeing you curled up on the bed, motionless, face soaked in tears, had him dropping his suitcase and rushing to you

- “Mc? Mc, are you alright?”

- You weakly looked up at him, dried eyed threatening to tear up again. “No.” God, every part of you hurt admitting that, but you just wanting some emotion to grace you, something other than pain and numbness

- “Do I need to call the doctor? It’ll just-”

- “No, no please, just.” You weakly reached out for his hand, and he immediately grasped yours. Even just tilting your head felt like it took your whole energy reserve away. “I need you.”

- He laid down beside you, pulling you into his arms. “Love, please. What’s wrong?”

- “I don’t know what to do anymore.”

- “About what?”

- “I’m such a fucking waste of space Jumin, I can’t do anything right anymore.”

- He jerked away slightly, looking you in the eyes.

- “Don’t you dare even begin to think that. Don’t you dare.”

- Tears starting spilling from your eyes again as you were forced to look directly at him, your shoulders shaking.

- “But I am-”

- “No,” He kissed your forehead, but his voice was stern, even slightly shaky. “You are the most amazing thing to happen to me, you are the best thing to grace my presence each morning I open my eyes, you are so much more than that, mc. Please.”

- You had never seen Jumin cry, but now you felt it. He was holding you tight, burying his face in your hair, as he struggled to keep composed as his body shook.

- “Please, mc. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

- You clung tightly to him, muttering a mantra of apologies as he made a mental list of how to help you exactly.

- He would going to start telling you he loved you six times a day, kiss you every moment he could, call you every small two minute break he had just to tell you he thought of you. 

- God, just anything. Anything to keep you here with him, and to feel like yourself again. Not this husk.

Jaehee

- Jaehee knew a few of the signs, just from excessive research she did after hearing about the late Rika.

- Maybe a few other reasons

- The two of you were closing up the shop for the night, you washing the dishes as she swept. However, she had stopped ages ago, watching you stare at a knife with a dead-eyed half lidded stare.

- She knew. 

- Slowly, she walked behind you, taking your hands in hers and getting the knife away from you, holding you from behind.

- “Mc, don’t.”

- That’s all she said. She wasn’t even 100% sure that was what you were thinking, but you bursting into tears on the spot confirmed it.

- She cut the sink off, wrapping you in one of the fluffy clean towels, rocking you back and forth as you sobbed into her.

- She wanted to cry, felt like she needed to, but she held it in. For you, just for you. Just anything to make you happy.

- “Jaehee, I can’t- It’s so painful- I can’t even breathe-”

- “Shhh,” She kissed the back of your head, waiting for you to cry it out.

- When you finished, she turned you around, kissing the corners of your eyes.

- “We’re going to get you to a doctor.”

- “Jaehee, no-”

- “Yes,” Her voice cracked a bit, and she took a deep breath. “Mc, you are the best thing that has ever happened to me. I’ve learned so much about myself, I’m finally enjoying my life again, I feel like I finally learned what it’s like to feel alive-”

- “With me gone, you’ll-”

- “I’ll break, I’ll be in shambles. And I never, ever, want to see you like that. I never want to see your beautiful, shining, radiant face devoid of life. If that happened, I’d die, Mc. I would just stop.”

- She took a moment to rub her eyes, then to kiss you.

- “Please, please, just talk to me. I promise I love you, I promise I will do everything I can. Just please, god. Don’t hurt yourself.”

Yoosung

- Everything had been numb until now.

- Bad grades? Still workless? Numb.

- Yoosung drowning in games while you silently and mentally begged for his attention? Numb.

- You weren’t even sure what had snapped in you today, but as he was discussing a test he failed, sad over it, but a bit happy it wasn’t as bad as his past grades

- And you just broke down in tears

- He froze up, trying to figure out what he said wrong as you buried your face in your knees.

- “Mc? Mc, what happened? Are you okay?”

- He gingerly touched you, scared of provoking more tears, but when you leaned a bit closer he managed to bring your face up to look at him.

- “Mc, please, please, tell me what is wrong.”

- He was so scared. Were you going to break up with him? Did someone hurt you? What was happening?

- After a few moments of choked sobbing and garbled mutterings, you managed to clear your throat enough.

- “Yo-Yoosung, I can’t stand this anymore.”

- Oh god, you were breaking up, weren’t you? He took a deep breath. “Stand what?”

- “Just, I don’t fuckcing know,” you covered your face again. “Living. I can’t.”

- His heart sunk. Immediately he pulled you to him, tears already leaking.

- “Do-Don’t you dare. Don’t you dare, Mc. Please, god, don’t you dare.” He couldn’t bring himself to say the word, he didn’t want to even jinx it. “Please, god, don’t. I don’t know what I’d do.”

- You outright wailed.

- “I don’t have a job, I’m such a disgrace, I just-”

- “No,” He pushed your face into his shoulder, refusing to have you keep on. “You don’t know how much you mean to me, or the people around you. God, please, I went through this with Rika, Mc, just please, please, let me help you. I couldn’t-” His voice broke, “I couldn’t help her, please, god, let me help you.”

- The two of you broke down, just rocking back and forth on his bed, sobbing together. You, feeling so ashamed and sick. Yoosung, so scared and guilty. 

- After the two of you cried it out a bit, he covered you in kisses, refusing to stop until he felt like you knew how much he loved you. 

- He’d nearly beg Jumin to have him help you get help. He didn’t care if he had to become a slave to C&R for the rest of his life. Anything was better than losing you.

Seven

- No matter what you did, how much you told him you loved him, he pushed you away. 

- You couldn’t understand why for the life of you. He was so in love with you a while ago, and now it’s just this?

- It was you, right? You did something. You weren’t who he thought you were…Right?

- He didn’t even notice you leave the house.

- You threw your phone somewhere outside, and just walked. Walked until your feet felt sore, until your legs couldn’t take it.

- When you finally stopped, you were at an old park bench. It was late in the afternoon, almost dark, so no kids were around. You sat down, and held it in as you thought about what you were going to do.

- There was a river nearby, so that was an option, wasn’t it? And if you truly needed to you could fashion your sweater into some noose. It wouldn’t be too hard if you had your phone.

- Phone… Right. You threw that somewhere, didn’t you? You couldn’t even look up proper ways of killing yourself, could you? Managed to fuck up right until the end.

- You laughed to yourself, and as you did it slowly turned into hiccups. Into sobs.

- Soon you were sobbing on this abandoned park bench, like some fool. Some lovestruck fool that had no one to love her back.

- You didn’t know how long you were there, not until a loud screeching noise hit your ears, causing you to blink at the bright lights in front of you.

- “Mc? Oh thank god, thank god.”

- Seven ran to you, pulling you off the bench and hugging you tight.

- “I was so scared, I was so fucking scared. Are you okay? Are you hurt-”

- You shook him off, shooting a bitter glare his way.

- “Why do you care?”

- You could see the life leave him. He instantly teared up, reaching for you.

- “God, mc, I do, I do, god i do please. Please please, please pleaseplease, don’t do this-”

- “What, push you away like you-”

- He pulled you into a sloppy, wet, kiss. His tears mingling with his inability to kiss properly.

- “I know I’m an asshole, I know I don’t deserve you. I just get so scared- I’m so gross, so disgusting, so stupid, Mc. And you’re so smart, so kind, so fucking calm. And I don’t deserve you, not in the slightest, but here you are,” He managed a weak, choked, laugh. “Finally realizing…”

- He held you close, refusing to let go, as he sobbed into your chest. “God, mc, please. Come home, lets talk, and then you can beat me within an inch of my life, but please god don’t leave me, don’t, not like this. Not like this, just any other way, not like this.”

- You put your stubbornness aside. Still angry, but longing some validation.

- The two of you settled in his car, awkwardly cuddling in the back seat in the abandoned parking lot, trying to calm down enough to drive.

- And in that time frame, you realized he was just as scared as you were. Once he heard your plans, he begged you to get help, he even promised he would come along to therapy, just anything so you didn’t harm yourself like you were thinking. He needed to know you were safe, and he would never forgive himself if he couldn’t stop you.

- But you knew for damn sure he wasn’t going to push you away anymore, not even if his mind told him to. You deserved more.

Saeran

- When he saw your recent search histories, he nearly broke down himself, recognizing a few of the searches as ones he used to look up himself.

- You, the wonderful woman who welcomed him with open arms. Despite those he hurt, despite him trying to hurt you. When you first saw him, you immediately hugged him so tightly, whispering on how thankful you were that he was alright.

- Something he would never forget.

- And here he was, reading the results you got for painless suicide methods. Once he saw one connected to your recent behavior, he shot out of his seat and sprinted to wherever you could be.

- When he found you, he was the one to break into sobs. He was so mad, so fucking mad, that he couldn’t stay composed, but he needed you, he needed you so bad.

- He fell to his knees, clinging onto your legs.

- “Mc, please god, please don’t do it, please for fucking gods sake don’t leave me alone, don’t leave me with an empty bed and guilt, god Mc I can’t take it, I can’t.”

- As soon as he started sobbing, you connected the pieces pretty quickly, and felt your own tears pour.

- You slowly met him on the floor, where he held you in a death-like grip, begging you without any shame.

- “Why, why, why? Why?”

- “I’m just. Worthless, Saera-”

- “Don’t you fucking even think that for one moment. I’ve killed people, mc, I’ve killed people worse than you, I’ve beaten people. God, Mc, I’m worse than you. If anything I’m the one more deserving to go rather than you.”

- He broke down again, ending up blubbering. “If you go I don’t know what I’d do. You’re the only thing keeping me sane, please god Mc, please don’t. Please. Please.”

- He just kept begging, and you started to wail.

- The two of you stayed on the floor just cuddling each other, unsure of what else to do. It took hours until the both of you could stop crying, until the both of you held hands so tightly and talked about the help for you to get.

- He would do anything, just anything, for his beautiful heaven like sky not to be taken away from him.