tell me what you think ;)

You’re good at being cold in the same way
love is good at being distant

And you don’t know my freckles or the skin
on the back of my fingers you don’t even know about the scar on my ankle but

you are something i think my heart
has always wanted to handle

your love is cold in the way it is always distant
but when I love it always has to be
down to the core
I am whole-hearted in the way
that I am always yours

but you wouldn’t know love if it hit you
you can’t taste it in the space between us when we’re laying in the same fucking sheets so I don’t know why I thought this would be different

maybe I just wanted to be whole-hearted
wanted to be yours for a while
wanted to love the skin by your fingers
wanted the warmth of your smile

wanted you to squeeze my heart into your fist
just to see how well it fits

wanted to dig all the bad times
out from under this arrow
and ask you if your love is something
I could maybe borrow

—  Temporary

a klance/side-shallura fic idea I’ve been holding onto for months but I Can’t Write so I’ll just post this:

Shiro teases Lance about his obvious crush on Keith, but Lance quickly throws it back by teasing him about Allura. The two end up making a bet to see who can ask out their crush first. Lance struggles a little at first because the person who knows Keith best is Shiro, whom he can’t advice or anything. 

Keith ends up asking out Lance first. Lance is thrilled and wants to announce his victory, but Keith tells him he doesn’t want anyone to know yet, especially Shiro (Keith is shy and just wants their new relationship to be private for a bit). Lance doesn’t tell Keith about the bet.

So Lance not only has to pretend that he and Keith aren’t together, but he also has to pretend to Shiro that he’s still trying to win by flirting at Keith, the person that’s also pretending like he wants nothing to with Lance.

Shiro thinks he’s winning. Hunk, Pidge, and Coran spectate. Keith is a little angry because he thinks Lance is trying to blow their secret. Lance is dying. 

(When Shiro finds out, he insists that the bet is a draw because Keith asked first and not Lance)

Greaser // j.j.

A/N: here it is, the long awaited greaser!jughead imagine! let me know what you think, idk how i feel about it lol

The cigarette dangles from his mouth as he talks with his friends, his signature leather jacket residing on his shoulders as he leans against the rusty black mustang he’s somehow managed to keep running after all these years.

“Y/N,” Betty snaps her fingers in front of the girl’s face, “you’re staring again.”

“Huh?” She pulls her gaze away from the black haired boy, looking at her friends instead. “Sorry.”

Veronica smirks, pulling a binder out of her locker as she shakes her head.

“You better hope no one else sees you staring at him,” she says, “they might get the wrong idea.”

“Is there a right idea?” Betty asks, pony tail swinging in the air. “I mean, he’s a greaser for pete’s sake.”

“Oh don’t be such a snob,” Y/N says, leaning against the metal locker, “he’s still a person.”

“You’re just smitten with him,” Veronica replies, “nothing he does can be wrong in your eyes.”

Y/N rolls her eyes, glancing down at her phone to check the time.

“I gotta go, I’ll catch up with you later,” she says, waving goodbye as she turns and walks towards the front doors of the school.

She digs through her messenger bag for her headphones, barely stopping herself before she runs right into another person.

“Whoa there princess,” he says, catching her arm, “don’t want to bruise that pretty skin now do we?”

“I-I um,” she stutters, trying to clear her thoughts, “sorry, I wasn’t paying attention.”

“Nah, it’s fine,” the corner of his mouth lifts into a half smile, “glad I could be here to save you.”

“Are you insinuating that I need saving?” She asks, quirking an eyebrow.

“I would never,” Jughead says, “I’m sure you’re perfectly capable of saving yourself, princess.”

“It’s Y/N,” she says, swallowing a bit as he smiles again.

“Oh I know,” he says, biting down on his lip slightly, “I make a habit of knowing the names of all the pretty girls in town. I’m Jughead.”

She couldn’t help the blush spreading across her cheeks, Jughead’s smirk widening when he sees.

“Need a ride home?” He asks. “I’d be happy to drive you.”

“I uh…” she pauses, shrugging, “sure, why not.”

“She may not look like much,” Jughead says, leading Y/N over to his car and opening the passenger door for her, “but the boys and I just put in a new engine the other day, so she runs like she’s ten years younger than she really is.”

Y/N smiles and gets into the car. Jughead shuts the door and slides over the hood, opening the driver’s side and stepping in, closing it behind him.

“I’ve seen you around before,” he says as he starts the car, “with those other two girls, Betty and Veronica.”

“Yeah,” Y/N says, “they’re my best friends, we’re practically inseparable.”

“They’re hot,” Jughead says casually, “probably the second and third hottest girls in school.”

“Oh really?” Y/N asks, stomach churning, “who’s the first?”

“There’s this girl named Y/N,” he says, his gaze fixed on the road ahead, “she’s definitely the hottest, by a lot.”

Silence fills the car, the only sound being the engine as they continued down the street.

“I don’t know how to respond to that,” she says with a laugh, making Jughead smile.

“That’s cute,” he says, “your laugh I mean, it’s cute.”

“Thanks,” she says, unsure if that’s the proper response, “I like your beanie.”

“Thanks,” Jughead beams, “my mom made it for me.”

Y/N smiles again.

“That’s cute,” she repeats his words.

“Cigarette?” He asks, holding one between his fingers out to her.

“No thanks,” she says, “I don’t smoke.”

Jughead nods.

“Good,” he says, “it’s better that way. I’m trying to quit but…it’s harder than it looks.”

The rest of the ride is silent until Jughead pulls into Y/N’s driveway.

“I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable,” he says, “with the hot thing or whatever.”

“No it’s okay,” she smiles, “thanks for being nice.”

“I wasn’t just being nice Y/N,” he replies, “I was telling the truth.”

She feels the blush spread across her face again as she reaches down to grab her bag.

“So I’ve got this thing next weekend,” he says, “under the overpass, we’re racing some guys from across town and I was uh…I was wondering if maybe you would want to come? We could use some cheerleaders.”

“Yeah that…that sounds like fun, I’m in,” Y/N says, smiling, “what time?”

“Here, give me your phone,” Jughead replies, “I’ll text myself your number and then text you whenever I get word on the time.”

“You don’t even know the time for your own race?” Y/N asks, handing her phone to him as he rolls his eyes.

“The losers pick the time,” he responds, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, “we won last time so the other guys are supposed to let us know that time by eleven am Wednesday morning.”

“Sounds complicated,” she says, taking her phone back.

“Such is life,” Jughead responds, smiling, “I’ll text you, yeah?”

“Yeah,” she smiles back, “do you mind if Betty and Veronica come? I’m sure they’d love to watch you guys race.”

“Yeah, course,” he says, nodding, “so I’ll see you at school?”

“Yeah, yeah I’ll see you tomorrow,” she says, biting the inside of her cheek, “thanks for the ride Jughead.”

“Anytime,” he replies, “see you tomorrow.”

She watches as he pulls out of her driveway, sticking a cigarette in his mouth as he leaves.

Jughead and Y/N talk everyday since the drive home, giving Veronica and Betty even more of a reason to tease her.

“Remind me again why we’re going to this thing?” Betty asks, perched on Y/N’s bed.

“Because I said I would go,” Y/N replies, “because he asked and I said yes. You guys don’t have to come if you don’t want to.”

“I’ll come, but I have one condition,” Veronica says, sticking her head out of Y/N’s closet, “I get to pick your outfit.”

“What?” Y/N asks. “Why?”

“Reasons,” Veronica replies, shrugging, “what d'ya have to lose?”

“Sure, why not,” she says, “you’re right, I’ve got nothing to lose.”

“Great!” Veronica says. “Because you’re wearing this,” she says, pulling out some clothes.

“I didn’t even know you owned something like that!” Betty says, her jaw dropping.

“I…my mom bought that for me,” Y/N shakes her head, “I totally forgot about it.”

“Well, put it on,” Veronica says, “lets see how it looks.”

“I dunno guys,” Y/N says, rocking back and forth on her heels a few minutes later, “what do you think?”

“You look amazing,” Veronica says, eyes sparkling, “like ten out of ten, absolutely incredible.”

“She’s right,” Betty says, nodding, “stunning. How do you feel?”

“I feel…” the girl pauses, collecting her thoughts as she looks in the mirror, “powerful. I like it.”

“Good,” Veronica says, standing up, “let’s get going.”

Fifteen minutes later the trio arrive at the overpass, making their way down the cement ditch to where the others gathered.

“Whoa,” Jughead hears one of his friends say, drawing his attention away from his conversation and over to the three girls coming down the hill, his jaw dropping.

“Is that Y/N?” Someone asks, whistling. “She looks hot.”

“Shut up Keith,” Jughead says sharply, swallowing as he changes his expression back into his signature smirk.

He makes his way over to her, hands shoved in his pockets.

“Well well well,” he quirks an eyebrow, “don’t you look good in leather.”

The girl blushes, a contrast to the aura she brought with her when she arrived.

“Damn Jug,” Keith says, walking up behind the boy, “you always said she was hot but I never saw it until now.”

“Shut up Kieth,” Jughead repeats, shoving the boy back a few steps, shaking his head, “sorry about him, he’s an idiot.”

“It’s okay,” Y/N smiles, rocking back and forth on her heels slightly, “I hope this is okay,” she gestures to her clothes, “V picked it out.”

“Yeah it’s…” Jughead shakes his head, “it’s perfect. You look great. I mean, you always look great but…wow.”

This girl will be the death of me, he thinks.

“Thanks,” she says, giving a slight smile, “good luck on your race today.”

“Thanks,” he smiles this time, pulling his hat off his head, “keep this safe for me, yeah?”

“Aren’t I supposed to be the one giving you tokens of affection?” She asks, taking the hat in her hands.

“I consider your appearance a token of affection,” he replies smoothly, “I mean, you look incredible.”

She smiles again, looking down at her shoes before replying.

“Glad you think so,” she says, her ambience changing as she steps closer to him, “cause it’s all for you, ya know.”

Jughead swallows nervously, a habit he’s found himself developing quite rapidly when around her.

“Oh yeah,” he says with a smirk, “and why would you go through all that trouble for me, huh?”

“I heard a rumor,” she says, her hand resting on his upper arm, “that a certain Jones boy has a crush on me, felt like I should impress him.”

“Is that so,” Jughead’s throat runs dry, “a-and are his feelings re…reciprocated?”

Aren’t I supposed to be the confident one? He asks himself.

“Hmm…” she smirks, titling her head to the side, “guess he’ll have to wait and find out,” she says, placing the beanie on top of her head, “good luck on your race, Jug.”

He swallows roughly, nodding.

“Thanks,” he says, barely above a whisper.

She presses a kiss to his cheek and then takes a few steps back as she bites down on her lip, barely holding back a smile.

Jughead’s legs almost buckle under him.

“And that was?” He asks.

“Token of affection,” she says simply, her hand hanging loosely out of her back pocket, “see you later Jug.”

“Well damn,” a voice pulls Jughead from his thoughts, “ain’t she a sight. What d'ya think boys, she put out on the first or second date?”

Jughead’s throat tightens, his fist clenching as he turns around to face the idiot from the other side of town. Keith was one thing, he knew where the line was, but this guy…he was something different.

“What the hell do you want Barnes,” he sneers, “race doesn’t start for another five minutes.”

“Just admiring your girl there Jones,” the other boy replies, sticking his hands in his pockets, “pretty thing, definitely better than what they turn out on the north side of town.”

“Let’s keep the talk to the race alright,” Jughead all but growls, “leave her out of this.”

“Ooh touchy,” the boy tuts, smirking slightly, “alright, why don’t we make this a bit more interesting. Let’s race for a prize.”

“What, like pink slips?” Jughead raises an eyebrow.

“Nah, I don’t want your crap car,” the other boy scoffs, “but ya girl on the other hand…” he trails off, biting down on his lip as he looks over at Y/N, “now she’s a prize.”

“I said leave her out of it,” Jughead frowns.

“C'mon Jones,” the boy tilts his head, “you were so confident about winning, why not make it a little interesting.”

“Fine,” he says reluctantly, “whatever, let’s just get this over with.”

“Our little Y/N’s all grown up,” Veronica coos teasingly, making the other girl roll her eyes.

“I think I blacked out for like, half of that conversation,” Y/N says, shaking her head, “I felt like a completely different person.”

“And?” Betty asks, resigning her eyebrows.

“And I liked it,” Y/N says, sitting down next to her friends on the cement, “it felt…good.”

“He’s a greaser,” Betty says, swallowing, “I don’t want to sound like that person or anything, but people are gonna say things.”

“He makes you happy,” Veronica says, “he makes you feel good, that’s what matters. Not what other people think.”

“What do you think they’re talking about?” Y/N asks, looking down at the crowd of boys next to the cars.

“Who knows,” Betty says, “but I think the race is starting.”

“Do you know who that is?” Y/N asks, motioning down to the boy from the north side of town. “He keeps staring.”

“That’s Randy Barnes,” Veronica says, shaking her head, “basically, he’s trouble. Think Southside Serpents times ten.”

That’s who he’s racing?” Y/N asks, raising an eyebrow. “Yikes.”

“Pretty much,” Betty replies, “but I’m sure he knows what he’s doing. I mean, they’ve done this before, right?”

“At least once,” Y/N says as the two boys get in their respective cars, “he said something about winning last time, but I don’t know how many times he’s done this.”

“Well if he won last time we have nothing to be worried about,” Betty says, nodding, “here they go.”

The three girls watch as the boys get into their respective cars, engines revving.

“This is like a scene out of an eighties movie,” Veronica quips as they take off down the cement.

“So you and Jughead,” Betty says, “is that a thing now?”

Y/N subconsciously tugs the beanie down over her ears, shrugging.

“I dunno,” she says, “I mean…we were flirting down there and I-I think he likes me…I could see something happening. But I have no idea.”

“You guys would be cute,” Veronica says, “especially if you keep up with this new look you seem to love so much.”

“Well see,” Y/N says, watching as the cars skid around the barrel marking the end of the track.

“You better hope your boyfriend wins,” a kid none of the girls recognize says.

“Really?” Veronica asks sarcastically. “Why’s that?”

“Because if he doesn’t Randy does,” the boy says, “and if Randy wins then he gets little miss leather here, and Jones can’t do shit about it.”

“I’m sorry?” Y/N asks, tilting her head to the side.

“The two of them made a deal,” the boy explains, “winner gets you all to himself, sweetheart.”

With that, the boy walks off, leaving the trio sitting in stunned silence.

“You better hope he wins,” Betty says quietly.

“I feel sick,” Y/N whispers, shaking her head

“I’m sure he knows what he’s doing,” Veronica says, placing a gentle hand on Y/N’s shoulder, “he’s just looking out for you.”

“I can’t watch,” she says, pulling her knees up to her chest and resting her head on them, “tell me when it’s over.”

She hears the cars getting louder, signaling they’re coming closer. Her stomach churns, all evidence of the confident girl who showed up draining.

“Oh god oh god oh god,” she whispers, “what the hell was he thinking.”

“Hey hey hey,” Veronica says, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder blade, “he’s a smart guy, like I said, he knows what he’s doing.”

“He’s a freaking idiot,” she whispers, shaking her head.

Veronica smiles.

“You like him so much.”

“Too much.”

The race ends in a - literal - photo finish. While the kid that had been in charge of taking the photos at the end messes with his camera, Y/N makes her way down the cement to Jughead.

“Hey princess,” he smiles, leaning against his car, “tight race, huh.”

“Stakes are raised when you’re betting on someone,” she says, crossing her arms, “talked to one of Barnes’ boys, he told me what happened between the two of you before the race.”

Jughead’s smile falters.

“Look it’s not what it sounds like I p-”

“Not what it sounds like?” She asks, quirking an eyebrow. “You bet on my relationship life, that’s not okay.”

“I know, I know,” Jughead sighs, shaking his head, “I know it’s not but Barnes…he doesn’t stop. The only way to get him to stop is by winning against him and when he brought you up and how hot you looked and what he wanted to do…it’s the only way I know that I can get him to leave you alone.”

“And what were you planning on doing if you didn’t win?” Y/N asks.

“Fight, I guess,” Jughead says quietly, “anything I need to do to keep him away from you.”

Y/N’s arms drop, a sigh escaping her lips as she tugs the beanie down gently.

“You’re making it very hard not to like you, Jug,” she says, biting down on her bottom lip, “like extremely difficult.”

Jughead barely holds back the groan wanting to come out, staring at her in the leather and his beanie on her head, the corner of his mouth lifting slightly.

“You’re really hot,” he finally speaks, shaking his head, “like ridiculously good looking. God I like you so much.”

She smiles, looking down at her shoes.

“I really like you, Jughead,” she says, letting out a deep breath, “and I want us to try…whatever this is.”

“Yeah? Even though I’m a greaser?” He asks with a smirk.

“Especially because you’re a greaser.”

“Well isn’t that adorable,” a cold voice says from behind Y/N, making Jughead’s eyes darken slightly, “two love birds finally admit their feelings, swoon.”

“What do you want Barnes?” Jughead asks, taking Y/N’s hand in his and pulling her into his side.

“Just came to say congrats,” the boy says, “you won, you get your girl. Shame though, she’s something else.”

“I’ll see you next month,” Jughead states, raising an eyebrow as an invitation for a challenge.

“Yeah yeah,” he says, taking a few steps backwards, “I’ll text you the time.”

Y/N watches as the boy and his friends leave, smiling up at Jughead.

“Congrats Juggie,” she whispers, biting down on her bottom lip, “I’m proud of you.”

“I’m gonna kiss you now,” Jughead replies, “okay?”

Y/N smiles slightly.

“Okay.”

It barely takes two days for the word to spread around school, the self dubbed greaser together with the ‘new and improved’ Y/N was a topic of conversation for weeks.

“As much as I love the leather jacket and the skinny jeans,” Jughead says a few weeks later, holding both of her hands in his, “god baby, the things that skirt does to me.”

She smiles.

“Maybe I should wear it more often,” she teases.

“Don’t think I could handle that,” he teases back, pushing some hair behind her ear, “I’d explode.”

“Hmm,” she laughs, “I’d really rather not have my boyfriend exploding on me. That would be ideal.”

“So what d'ya wanna do tonight baby?” He asks. “The boys and I fixed up the seats and the ac, she runs better then ever,” he says, patting his car affectionately.

“You say that every other week,” she rolls her eyes.

“This car is the most important thing in my life,” he says, “besides you of course, princess.”

“Uh huh,” she shakes her head, “sometimes I wonder.”

“C'mere,” Jughead mumbles, pulling her closer to him.

He kisses her passionately, only pulling away when the wolf whistles from his friends interrupted the moment.

“Come on,” he says, smiling at her, “lets go home.”

2

[ au’s that exists elsewhere ]

he’s always dressed in leather, a cigarette hanging out of his mouth. it’s a bad habit and he knows it but it’s one that he can’t quit, not that sam really wants him too anyway.

they share a milkshake, sam drinking out of the same straw of his brother and when it’s all finished, dean will close the distance between the two of them and lick the taste of chocolate out of his little brother’s mouth, smirking at the distaste that falls on the other patrons faces.

it’s dangerous, to be this with his brother. but the moment that someone says anything about him or his brother, his knuckles will be coated with their blood and sam will only laugh, grab a fist full of dean’s leather jacket and bite dean’s lips until their just as red as the blood on his hands.

they’ll stay out late and sam will take drags from dean’s cigarette, blowing the smoke in the air, watching whatever movie is playing on the big screen.

and when sam gets too cold and the denim jacket that he wears isn’t enough to keep the chill out of his lanky bones, dean will slide out of his leather jacket and drape it across sam’s bony shoulders and sam will bury himself in the comfort and the smell of dean that the jacket brings.

[1950s weecest]

somewhere in between - one

September 2011

“What? Haven’t heard of chill?” She yelled over the loud music directly into his ear. “No need to act like a high-strung Chihuahua on stage.”

“No one else complained.” Harry defended himself with a smirk and a kinked brow.

“I don’t know why they wouldn’t. I’ll place the first one now.” She patted him on the shoulder, then his face fell and she couldn’t keep it up - Lenny never didn’t have a hard time keeping up a joke. “I’m just kidding, Harry. It was actually -”

read below - story page - character page - thanks! 

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About a Girl [3]

Originally posted by jinkooks

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6 / Part 7 / Final / Epilogue

The disappointment


You had been working for Mr. Kim for nearly two months now, and things had gone pretty smoothly. You and Jangmi had bonded rather quickly. It made the job much easier. The one thing that didn’t make it easier was Mr. Kims absence. Jangmi would often ask about him, but you were never really sure how to answer. Most of the time you’d change the subject.

Jangmi squirmed as you pinned the last flower onto her dress for her school play tomorrow night. “Jangmi, you need to stay still. You don’t want me to accidentally prick you, do you?”

“No,” she muttered. “I just wanna see the dress!”

You gave her a warm smile. “Be patient, I’m almost finished.” You put the final stitch in, feeling relieved that you had finally finished. You sat back to admire your handy work. “Alright, we’re all done.”

Jangmi jumped down from the stool that she had been standing on, running to the full length mirror. She squealed in excitement at her reflection. She twirled in her dress. “Miss Y/LN, it’s perfect!” She rushed back to you, wrapping her arms around your waist. “Thank you so much.”

You gave her a pat on her head, “Anytime. Now, why don’t you go change into your pjs while I clean up. Alright?”

Jangmi skipped off to the bathroom as you cleaned up the mess that you had  made. Various pieces of cloth had been scattered across the room, it was your job to gather it all up. “Looks like a hurricane came through here,” a deep voice spoke.

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"Paul" instead of "Jesus"

Okay, so I had this lil thought thanks to a lovely conversation.

So, like Daryl wouldn’t ever call Jesus “Jesus”. He thinks it’s ridiculous, but no one else calls him Paul so it would also be weird if Daryl randomly calls him Paul, right? Maybe that’s why Daryl hasn’t said his name yet, because he isn’t sure how to call him.

But now imagine, if Daryl accidently does call him Paul. Like, it just happens. Now think of the look on Jesus’ face. He would be so surprised bc as I said, no one else calls him that. But then, he would just smile to himself, but act like nothing happened, so that he doesn’t scare Daryl away, bc you know..his name sounds so wonderful when Daryl says it and he wants to hear it more often. And so it happens, Daryl’s the only one who calls him by his real name, wouldn’t that be the most beautiful thing ever?
Like, it just seems to be such an intimate thing to do, idk.

anonymous asked:

Prompt : Mama Bakkoush figures out that the boy Sana like is Elias friend Yousef.

When Sana returned from school that afternoon, the apartment was quiet. She was taken aback by this. She had expected to hear yelling from the living room, Elias and his friends playing some stupid game.

“Hey mama” she said as she entered the kitchen. Her mother didn’t move to acknowledge her. She was too busy cooking, and too entrenched in the radio news. Sana usually blocked out her mother’s radio. She found it too depression. One time her mother let it stay on during dinner. That night the radio was running a series of interview with Syrian refugees, which had left Sana in tears. She could barely finish her dinner.“Where’s everybody?” she asked, sitting down at the bar stole in the kitchen.

“Your dad is working late. And Elias is at the movies with his friends. He should be home soon”. Sana’s mother washed her hands and turned to Sana. “How was your day?”

“Fine” Sana muttered.
“School?” her mom continued, trying to prod a complete sentence out of her.

“It was school, what else can I say?” Sana didn’t mean to snap at her mom. She sighed, waiting for her mom to yell at her. Or at the very least, look at her disapprovingly, which was ALWAYS worse. She just moved closer to her, climbing the stool next to her.

“How are you doing?” she whispered to her. She was so warm and loving sometimes. It made Sana feel worse about the way she treated her sometimes. She felt bad about lying to her about the Friday meeting. She felt bad about keep so much from her. Sana’s mother would always ask if Sana wanted to bring her friends home like Elias did. But Sana didn’t want her friends to see her home. She wasn’t embarrassed or anything. She just liked to keep those worlds apart. This place was her safe space. It was where she could be alone in her thoughts and be herself. It was a part of her she couldn’t show her friends. At least fully. They wouldn’t understand. Sara was probably right on some level. Sana wasn’t a normal Norwegian girl. But she tried to act like one in front of her friends. Although lately this place wasn’t so much of a safe space anymore. Not since Elias graduated and his friends started spending more time at the apartment. Not since Yousef started coming there regularly. Not since she started to let her mind wander places, she wasn’t used to. 

“You never told me what happened Friday” Sana had hoped she never would have to. She didn’t mean for things to get so out of control.

“It was chill” She lied. Sana’s mother sighed. She knows, Sana thought. This terrified her.

“I don’t like it when you lie to me. The neighbours told me about loud music playing. And I found some vomit in the bathroom. What happened?”

“I didn’t mean for it to happen. I’m sorry”

“I don’t need to be perfect Sana. I just need you to tell me the truth.”

“I don’t want alcohol in the house. Ever. You understand that?” Sana did. She wasn’t planning on inviting anyone home ever again. Her heart stopped for a second. If her mother knew… did her father too? Sana knew how he’d react. She almost couldn’t breathe Friday when he discovered the vodka bottle. Her whole core was shaken for hours afterwards. Her mother must’ve sensed this because her next sentence was: “And I won’t tell your father about this” Sana breathed a sigh of relief.
“Thank you!” she exclaimed. “Thank you. Thank you thank you”. She hugged her mother tight, which made her life. Sana’s mother pulled her daughter deeper into the embraced.

“There was one thing I was wondering about.” Sana ended the hug, smiling.  “Why did Yousef take the fall for you”

“Huh?” she didn’t know what to say. She managed to mutter some sort of sentence out. Although she wasn’t sure it made any sense. “Probably… Uh… ‘cause dad was getting ready to blame Elias”

“Okay” Her mother smiled knowingly, which made Sana want to sink into the floor. All the sudden, Sana heard the door open. Elias barged through with his friends in tow.
“I’m home! What’s for dinner?” he yelled through the foyer. Sana stood up and started walking towards her room. Just as she was about to exit the kitchen, Yousef walked in with the guys. Their eyes met for a brief second, but it was long enough for Sana to feel self-conscious. She looked at her mother to make sure she didn’t notice it. But she was still smiling. Damn it, Sana thought.

You Can Tell A Lot About A Person By Their Favorite Radiohead Album

Requested by anon

Add anything/ tell me what you think differently about i am only one person generalizing many things

The Bends: friendly, though not necessarily in the first meeting,wise, cool and attractive, though they may not believe it, have a thirst for life, can be aggressive, assertive, may not seem immediately warmhearted but are very understanding when someone is genuinely in need of help, proactive and good at getting things done, even if it’s in the last minute, guarded with their emotions

OK Computer: very aware about the world around them, cynical, introverted, deeply concerned about a variety of issues, interested in science, very intelligent (though not necessarily in the way reflected in grades), detail oriented, perfectionists, not quick to trust people, impatient, stubborn, individualistic, independent, moody, more analytically and mathematically inclined, secretly much more vulnerable and caring than they let on, more pessimistic in comparison to fans of other albums.

Kid A: quirky, deep appreciation for art, often in their own heads and not as concerned with the present, sometimes seem aloof or in a trance-like state, hard to read at times as they don’t over-share, wallflower, if they say they don’t want to talk about it they probably actually don’t want to talk about it, may lack common sense when they become deeply involved with their own thoughts/thoughts about the world around them

Amnesiac: odd, though not in a negative way, enjoy a good bit of solitude and reading time, deep thinkers, very loyal to a handful of close friends, good sources of unconventional wisdom, feel like outsiders at times, good at pursuing a skill until they have developed and mastered it, determined and not quick to give up, cultured and with a wide variety of interests and acceptance for things and people, refuse to be a part of something they don’t agree with

Hail to the Thief: tend to be more extroverted, believe firmly that actions speak louder than words, good at making friends of all different lines of thinking and keeping them all engaged, easygoing and a calming presence to have around but despite this they will defend their convictions and do not like their core values being affronted, present and skilled at active listening, well-dressed

In Rainbows: warm personalities, very creative, often in multiple art forms, can be overemotional, lively and fun when they want to be, don’t like to be tied down, deeply compassionate, good listeners, self-doubting, generous, people-pleasing, form deep attachments to people and things, tend to put their needs aside to take care of others, always moving, even if it’s just fidgeting or playing with something in their pockets, tend to not give themselves enough credit in areas they excel in

The King of Limbs: maintain a calm, cool, collected exterior most of the time, even if it’s not representative of how they feel, good dancers! spacey, have a hard time focusing on one thing for too long, eccentric, and very funny to anyone who appreciates their original take on things, optimistic and complimentary

Pablo Honey: constantly apologizing for their favorite album choice

Keep your arms above your head.

I’ve been a little brat.
You know damn well that I know I have been.
I’m doing it on purpose, silly.
I know it drives you insane.
I know it makes you want to pounce. Why wouldn’t I be a brat?

I see the look in your eye. I pretend I don’t, but I can see that sparkle, that “You’re screwed, little girl” look.

I finally stretch just a liiiiiittle too far, revealing my tummy and underarms, and the inner monster is released.

You pounce.

I scream.

You know just as well as I do that this is what I hoped for all along. To release the big, bad Ler in you. Your mouth curls up into a sadistic smile.

“We’re going to play a game, little girl.”

My eyes are wide and my face is flushing red.

“You’re going to listen really close, understand? I’m going to destroy you, and the entire time, you have to keep your arms above your head. No bondage. No restraints. Just keep them up. If you don’t, you’ll get it a thousand times worse. Understood?”

The inner monster really has been released. This is a game that will destroy someone as sensitive as me.

I can’t keep my arms up. It’s involuntary. I’ll squeal at the first touch and throw them down. You know this is well as I do.

You’ll give me another chance, just because you love to tease me so horribly.

“Aww is someone ticklish??”

This will destroy me.

Because not only will I get the first little pokes and prods as I pretend to be tough, but the second I lose cognitive control from the butterflies in my tummy and the joyous, uncontrolled laughter falling from my lips, those arms will be down, feebly trying to protect myself.

And that’s when the punishment begins. The flurry of scribbles and squeezes and pokes and prods. This is when I’ll beg and plead, at first for you to stop, but then, when I am thoroughly broken from fingers and feathers and brushes attacking every square inch of my body, all I’ll be able to say is one simple word.

“More.”

That’s the point of this game. You know it. I know it.

It’s not to see who can win or lose, because we both know I’m about to be wrecked.

No, it’s about that point, where I can’t get enough. Where I can’t control smiling and giggling, even when you aren’t touching me. Where I crave for more. Where my walls are completely broken down, and you can see me. The real me. No acting. Just pure, blissful laughter.

And that moment starts with a simple, blush-inducing sentence.

“Keep your arms above your head.”

(Okay this is my first writing ever so if it’s horrible I’m so sorry. Tell me what you think???)

Dress code

Lance didn’t expect for this to happen, honestly he didn’t but Allura was one of his beloved friends and he would do anything for her. 

*flashback to 20 minutes earlier*

“LANCE!” a familiar voice screamed from behind him and boy did he know that tone, “yes allura?” he said while turning around “Lance i just wanted to say that you are the best friend a girl could ask for and your skin is absolutely beautiful and- oh! are you working out,” she rushed out while squeezing the nonexistent muscle in his arm.”i’m pretty sure you’ve been going to the gym.” Lance could barely conceal a eyeroll “Allura you’re either buttering me up cause you’ve done something or you need something.” sighing she let her shoulders slump and mumbled something unintelligible “Allura i know its hard to do things when surrounded by the beauty of me but i don’t know what you’re saying” “alright, we need to switch pants.” she blurted out “ok” i swiftly agreed not seeing an issue with this “but before you say no i just want to say this is for a gra- wait what?” i chuckled at her shock i mean honestly she should have expected this from me “why not? i’m hot as hell i can work anything, plus i’d look great in those shorts” I mused.

*back to present time*

And that’s why i’m here now sitting in first period with booty shorts on so Allura doesn’t fail her science lab. I didn’t regret wearing those shorts for one second, in fact i might have to borrow them more, Keith just couldn’t keep his eyes off me. “Hey shiro?” i said “yeah?” he responded not looking up from taking way too detailed notes “Can you tell Keith to keep his mouth closed? He might get flies.” Keith blushed furiously and my amusement lasted all of two minutes until the teacher dress coded me saying that my shorts were “inappropriate” and “violating school dress code” honestly the only true thing she said was that they were “distracting certain students from their learning”. 

KaisooAU in which Jongin is a college student who studies accounting. Everyone knows him as a kind, easy-going guy who helps you anytime you need him. You never heard him swear and you always see him reading a book. You’d introduce him to your mother and she’d call him her second son. Oh, and his boyfriend Kyungsoo calls him daddy.

(In first row you basically see what everyone sees - a pretty and nice guy who wears that kind of a t-shirt. In second row you can see a mug he has in his kitchen and his boyfriend in sheets)