thank you so much for the lesson

Cheating & Miscommunication

Request from @the-dead-angel​: A fic where Connor thinks he was cheated on so they break up but then maybe there is a happy ending (or not your choice). 

Warnings: Mentions of mental and physical relationship abuse. Connor and the reader don’t have a healthy relationship in this one. Please don’t assume that it’s romanticizing the fact that hitting your partner is ever okay. It’s only a one-shot so I didn’t have much time to go into depth about that topic but I just wanted to try and make that clear here.


“Thank you, Jake. I appreciate it.” You leaned up and hugged the muscular boy. He was your lab partner for science. Last week you had missed an important lesson and he had been kind enough to fill you in during lunch. He wasn’t normally the sort of person you’d hang out with. He tended to run with the more popular crowd. You were certainly not a part of that group but Jake was nice to you anyway. He was very handsome too. Lot’s of girls in your grade had a crush on him. You could see why. 

You watched him walk away as the bell rang indicating the last class of the day was about to start. You had a ceramics course with Connor last period. It was lucky he was in the class with you because otherwise it’d be a miserable time. You had zero artistic abilities. So far all of your misshapen bowls had blown up in the kiln. Connor wasn’t any better. You could at least both suffer together. Before you could even take your first step towards the door, someone blew past you. They hit directly into the back of your shoulder and you stumbled forward. “What the fu-” You looked over to see Connor swiftly moving away from you. You frowned. What the hell was his problem? 

You rubbed your aching shoulder and followed after him. He was already perched at his usual stool besides the wide art tables in the classroom. His back was to you. You both liked to sit at the furthest table from the door facing out the window. It looked like a gloomy afternoon outside. From behind him you could see his shoulders tensing and his back was rigid. You pulled up to the stool next to him. “What the actual fuck was that about, Connor? Did you not see me standing there?” 

He didn’t reply. Instead he angled his body away from you. You huffed, “Oh, so you’re ignoring me now? Great. Good for you. Two can play at that game.” You scowled and moved your stool to the far end of the table. Despite putting on a pissed off look, you were actually a little hurt. Connor had a tendency to do things like this. He would just shut you out and stop talking to you and you’d be forced to figure out what was wrong. Sometimes he acted like a hormonal teenage girl. You tapped your fingers on the table top and tried to think back to what you could have done to set him off. Nothing was immediately coming to mind. 

Your teacher strolled in a minute later and interrupted your thinking. Today’s lesson we were meant to create fairy houses out of clay. You inwardly groaned. You literally couldn’t even make a bowl. How the hell were supposed to make a whimsical looking house? You went to turn and complain to Connor. Then you remembered he obviously wasn’t speaking to you. An ache of sadness tugged at your heart as you got up to get your block of clay. When you returned back to your seat, he had his headphones in. You held back a sigh. 

You were never very good at getting through to him. You let your emotions over run you most of the time. When Connor got pissed off and quiet, so did you. Neither of you wanted to be the first to crack. You were both stubborn like that. It wasn’t the healthiest relationship but you loved him anyway. At least with a giant block of clay in front of you, you would be able to literally beat out some frustration. Your clay became your punching bag. It was all in the name of art and getting out air bubbles, of course. Not because you were imagining Connor’s face in the material…

When the bell signaling the end of school finally rang, your hands were caked in wet clay. You had put everything you had into this stupid fairy house and it didn’t look half bad either. You glanced over at Connor’s. He hadn’t even attempted to start the project. Typical Connor. Never putting effort into anything. As you moved past him to wash your hands, you purposely elbowed him in the back. He responded with a sharp glare. You glared right back. It was funny, you still had no idea what you were actually supposed to be angry about. All you knew was that Connor was upset at you, therefore, you were equally upset back. Petty could have been your middle name. 

Chunks of grey clay fell off your hands under the stream of hot water and swirled down the drain. You watched them disappear. Then you remembered that you had gotten a ride with Connor this morning. He was supposed to drive you home after school. You groaned under your breath. It was a little late to find new ride home now. You’d just walk. Even if it took the rest of the afternoon to get home, you’d rather walk than be stuck in a car with his stupid, dumb face. 

It wasn’t much of a choice anyway. When you turned around from washing your hands, he was already gone. You collected your things and walked out of the school with your head held low. You refused to cry over Connor. He could deal with his own shit. You did nothing wrong. Ever. You were perfect. He was the asshole. It helped you to think this way otherwise you’d go insane. Your house was a good five miles from the school. It was not a walk you ever intended to take but your stubbornness overpowered everything else. Five miles was nothing if it meant avoiding your boyfriend out of pure spite. 

Only twenty minutes in and your legs were already hurting. You seriously needed to exercise more. This was just pathetic. Then you had to laugh to yourself. Yeah, right. That would never happen. Dark, grey clouds loomed over head. They seemed to reflect your inner feelings. If it started to rain, you were so done…and just as that thought blossomed in your head, a single raindrop hit your forehead. Great. Just great. Of course the universe was against you too. 

“Fuck you, sky!” You shouted into the air. 

An elderly man getting his mail gave you a funny look as he glanced up from his mail box. 

“And fuck you too, you old piece of shit.” You mumbled that one under your breath. You didn’t actually want him to hear that. He hadn’t done anything wrong. You were just pissed at the world. 

Another five minutes into the walk and the sky had opened up. It was fully raining now. Not just rain either, lightning slashed across the sky and was followed by thunderous booms. Thick, heavy, cold rain drops soaked through your clothes. Your wet hair stuck to your face. Since you had never intended to be outside in this weather, you hadn’t brought a jacket to school. You had no form of protection from the assaulting storm. It was a perfect time to start crying now. Your tears would mix in with the rain. Fuck Connor. It was his fault you were out here and you didn’t even know what you had done to upset him. He was always doing stupid shit like this. You were beginning to get fed up with his behavior. You deserved someone better. Someone who would treat you right. 

A handful of cars flew by you down the side road. Their wheels kicked up waved of puddles which crashed down over your legs. You didn’t even flinch. You were already drenched at this point. Your socks sloshed around in your converse shoes. Everything was cold and awful. The more you focused on how uncomfortable you were, the more you hated Connor. 

A car rolled up slowly beside you. “Speak of the devil,” you muttered. It was him. You didn’t need to turn to check. You’d spent countless hours fooling around in that back seat. You’d know that car anywhere. Connor pulled up beside you as you walked. You refused to even glance in his general direction. He rolled down the passenger window and yelled out of it, “Get in!” 

You ignored him. You knew it’d only make him angrier. You pretended not to hear him and kept walking. 

He growled, “Dammit, Y/N! It’s pouring rain! Get it!” He kept driving a steady slow pace beside you. 

There was nothing he could do that would get you into that car. He didn’t deserve you. You marched along, trying not to slip, as there was no sidewalk and you were forced to walk on the grass which was turning into soupy, brown mud when your foot sank into it. 

He laid his hand on the horn, not letting up. The awful noise vibrated in your ears but you refused to grimace at the loud sound despite wanting to. “Get. In. The. Fucking. Car!” He shouted over the noise of his horn and the pounding rain.

Still, you kept strong. Not even giving him the courtesy to look in his general direction. You kept your eyes straight ahead. They were still red from crying but he wasn’t the sort of person who would notice that. Fuck Connor Murphy. You were done with him. He could get the picture and leave you alone. Walking five miles in a storm was better than anything he could ever give you. 

You heard him growl again and he stepped on the gas. His car shot out in front of you and pulled onto the side of the road literally blocking what little space you had to walk forward. He flung open his door and got out. He was seething in anger. You inwardly smiled to yourself at the sight, proud that your pettiness was working to provoke him. You stopped walking and put your hands on your hips, “I’m sorry can I help you with something?” 

Your tone only fueled his annoyance with you. He moved towards you. Despite the fact that he towered over you, he didn’t scare you. He liked to pretend he was tough but you knew better than that. You scowled up at him. Rain drops kept hitting you in the face and you had to blink over time to see through them. 

“You’re the most pathetic and stubborn person I have ever met,” he spit out at you. “Get in the fucking car.” 

I’m pathetic and stubborn?! Take a fucking look in the mirror, asshole!” You shoved by him, walking in the road to move around his car blocking the path. 

He grabbed your wrist and forcefully tugged you back to him. You tried to pull against him but his grip was too tight. “Let go of me!” You yelled up at him. When he refused to listen, you resorted to kicking him directly in the shin. He let out an “oof” of pain but only held on tighter. You struggled against him. He was fighting to pull you into to the car and you were fighting to stay outside in the rain. Eventually he managed to slam you back against the side of his car and pin you there by pressing his arms around either side of you. 

“Fuck you, Connor! Let me go!” A crack of lightning lit up the dark sky as if to emphasize your words. You shoved your hands against his chest to try and get him off. 

He was breathing heavy while trying to physically gain control of you. This wasn’t the first time you two had fought like this and it probably wouldn’t be the last. You were always the one fighting against him while he tried to pacify your attempts on him. You had kicked, punched, slapped, hit, and bit him in the past whenever he got you angry enough. You knew it wasn’t a health relationship but you couldn’t ever stop yourself from physically lashing out at him. He would fight back too but never as bad. The only time he’d lay his hands on you was if he was trying to restrain you. You hated being restrained. You hated feeling trapped. He was a master at using his words, or lack of words, to hurt you though. You both know exactly how to destroy the other and neither of you were afraid to do it when emotions got high. 

Connor pinned your hands on the car and leaned in close. The rain was starting to slick down his hair the longer he was out in it. It dripped down over his face, leaving streaks of glistening wetness in their wake. “Stop it,” his voice was low and commanding. 

All the fight went out of you when you looked into his eyes. They had softened from their icy stare when he leaned in closer to you. Your arms went limp in his grip and you slouched against his car with a sigh. You had the sudden urge to cry again. “Why are you angry at me,” you voice came out sounding much more pathetic and sad than you had intended for it to. You guessed that you probably resembled a stray, wet dog at this point. It wasn’t very intimidating.

He hesitated. He still hadn’t released your arms but he his constraint had loosened significantly. “You keep fucking around with that asshole. You know what his friends did to me,” the fight had left his voice too. 

You thought about his words and suddenly it came flooding back to you. He was jealous. Jealous of Jake, your science partner. But he wasn’t just jealous, you ate lunch with Connor every single day. Today you had skipped out to eat with Jake while he filled you in on everything you had missed in class. Had you even texted Connor about that? Your eyes widened in realization. You had forgotten to tell him that you weren’t going to meet him for lunch. You had forgotten to explain it him. He had been waiting for you and when he finally found you, you had been with another guy. It wasn’t just any random guy either. It was Jake. He was friends with a lot of people who enjoyed giving Connor hell whenever they could. His behavior all started to fall into place. 

You gave him a mournful look, “Oh Connor…I’m sorry. I forgot to tell you about lunch. I didn’t…he’s literally just my partner for science. That’s all. I’m so sorry.”

Connor looked down. He let go of your wrists and your arms fell limply to your sides. He seemed to be considering your apology. You didn’t give him much time to contemplate it because you brushed your hands through his hair, “I love you, Connor. You. Always you. No one else.” Your thumb traced the line of his jaw. “Come here…” You pulled his face closer to yours and kissed him gently. He took a second before kissing you back, but when he did, he put his own apology into the kiss. He didn’t have to use words to say he was sorry. You were able to tell through his actions alone. 

You willing got into his car then. You were soaking wet and miserable but you felt better now that you understood Connor. 

He reached for you hand as he pulled off the side of the road to take you home.

anonymous asked:

i just wanted to take a minute to thank you SO MUCH for preaching mundane before magical!! i've seen people try and get a divination reading instead of seeing a counsellor, or try spells before calling social services or the police, etc. and it's truly sad. (not saying it's bad to do spells or divination for serious situations obviously. but it's important to at least find balance between spellwork and taking non-magical measures)

Originally posted by goddess-offerings

It is important to me to keep witches as safe as possible.  One of the first lessons to learn is thinking about the mundane before going to the magical.  Thank you so much for your praise!

anonymous asked:

so, im a sophmore in Highschool, i have like zero friends, i havent since 4th grade. My parents decided to homeschool me and they didnt really take care of the socializing aspect. im scared ill never have friends or even a boyfriend as silly as it sounds? also, im almost 80 lessons behind in my classes due to my depression. im also a few credits short due to being pulled out of school last year. im scared i wont graduate? thank you so much in advance.<3

doesnt sound silly its a huge change you have to fight to stay in public school since you left i assume you wanted to go to public school fight for that or else youll have to go back into home school the thing is people dont look at homeschool kids weird its just something different and cool do you have anyone in class that you think is super cool? go up and introduce yourself compliment her shoes or something find a connection or join a club!! theres tons of those and theyll have a lot of like minded people start there and do not give up 

Fell for You  (Draco x Reader)

“can i have a draco x reader where the reader gets sick or passes out during class?? like really fluffy thanks!!!” thank you so much for your request! hope you like it!

Ever since Slughorn took over as the new Potions professor, class has been nothing short of interesting. The first couple of lessons were challenging since no one really knew what Slughorn was really like, would he be as strict as Snape or caring as Lupin had been? You all soon found out that he was the definition of frazzled, not all quite there, but overall he meant well. And of course, just like Snape, he had his favorites, meaning Harry Potter. That didn’t sit well with most of the Slytherins in the class, but you tried to ignore their nasty remarks towards your friend but sometimes their teasing was too much and as a fellow Gryffindor you had to defend both your friends and your house. But today you weren’t feeling much of the fighting spirit in you, you had a terrible headache and wanted nothing more than to be curled up in bed but alas you trudge your way to class.

You slowly made your way to your seat, but you noticed that Lavander Brown had taken your usual seat since you were late. Probably so she could stare at Ron…The only available seat was next to Draco so you begrudgingly made your way there as Harry and Hermione sent you a sad smile knowing that you were in no mood to put up with the Slytherin Prince.

You weren’t feeling well and it didn’t help that everyone was being extremely chatty today,

“Settle down! Settle down! Ms. Brown, please stop making googly eyes at Mr. Weasley…As I was saying, today we will be making a very challenging potion, the draught of peace! So, let’s get to it!” Slughorn announced, and with that everyone stood up and headed towards the back to grab what they needed. You weren’t surprised to see that everyone pretty much grabbed all of the moonstone powder so you had to wait for someone to be done with theirs so you could start.

But it looked like everyone was taking their sweet time getting set up and actually starting the potion.

“I’m almost done adding the powder, you can have it after it.” Draco said to you once you sat down. Were you hallucinating or was Draco Malfoy actually being nice to you? You and Draco never really talked, except for the cordial ‘hello,’ from time to time.

You simply nodded as you tied your hair back, most of the class had ignited their cauldrons and the heat was starting to get to you.

You both worked in silence and had a system of sharing going on, you had the ingredients needed for the second half of the potion and Draco had the beginning ones, so you would switch when you needed to.

“Stir until the potion turns orange, and then add more porcupine quills until the potion turns turquoise.” You read out loud for what seemed to be the third time, the heat in the room was becoming unbearable and you were having a hard time focusing.

“Are you alright Y/L/N?” Draco asked you after the fourth time.

“Um, yeah, never been better,” you said trying to sound convincing.  He simply nodded and went back to his own potion but he wasn’t the only one showing concern for you, Hermione kept shooting you worried looks. After a few more minutes she poured some of her potion into a vial for grading and then made her way towards you, she was expecting a nasty remark from Draco but he simply looked up and nodded towards you, his brow furrowed in concerned.

“Hey, I just finished mine, do you need any help, Y/N?” she asked as she came to stand next to you.

“Hi ‘Mione, and no that’s okay, I’m nearly finished, I just need to get add some more powdered porcupine quills and I’ll be done.” Unbeknownst to you, Draco was listening intently to your conversation. He noticed how quiet you were during breakfast in the Great Hall and how you were late to most of your shared classes. He has a soft spot for you, most of the Slytherins didn’t mess with you in fear of receiving backlash from Draco. Ever since class started he noticed how flushed you were. He was thankful Hermione came over to you because he knew you didn’t really trust him.

He was done with his own potion, and Hermione was helping you out until Ron stole her away because he needed help putting out the fire he created.

“Almost done?” he asked.

“Yeah, I just need to, to…to get a vial and bottle it up.” You said softly, becoming more and more dizzy with every word you spoke.

“Hey, are you okay?” He said looking alarmed by how pale you had turned all of the sudden.

“I’m fi-” Your world turned black before you could answer back.

You were definitely not fine.

You woke up a few hours later with a pounding headache, you slowly opened your eyes, but promptly closed them because of the bright lights of the infirmary. After a few minutes you tried once again with much more success and tried to sit up but felt the room spin out of control once again.

“Woah, take it easy there.” A voice said next to you, soon enough your eyes met the worry ones of none other than Draco Malfoy’s.

“Draco?”

“Yes?”

“What are you doing here?”

“Well after you decided to test out if gravity, Potter and I brought you to Madame Pomfrey.” He said as he softly pushed you back into the plush pillows.

“Where’s Harry?” you asked, not seeing the mess of curls anywhere. Draco’s eyes flickered with something that you’ve never seen before. It wasn’t the usual flicker of annoyance.

“Sorry, your little boyfriend had to go to Quidditch practice. He said he would come by later.” Draco said curtly.

“He’s not my boyfriend.” You said with the same curt tone but before he could say something else you cut him off.

“Wait, don’t you have practice as well? Don’t Slytherins usually practice at the same time and place to piss off our team?”

“Well I skipped today.”

“The Slytherin seeker skipping out on practice? I certainly feel honored, your team must really hate me right now.”

“Yeah, I would definitely watch out for them if I were you.” He chuckled.

“Did you really skipped practice for me?”

“Well, I had to make sure you were okay, I’m not as bad as Potter and Weaslbee make me out to be.” He said, his cheeks turning a soft pink as he rubbed his neck nervously.

“Thank you, Draco.” You said grabbing his hand and giving it a gentle squeeze.

“You’re welcome, Y/N.” that was the first time he called you by your first name.

“So, I was thinking, if you’re done testing out gravity, would you like to go with me on the next Hogsmeade trip?”

“Draco Malfoy, are you asking me out on a date?” you said, unable to fight off the smile spreading across your face.

“That depends, if you say yes then yeah I am.” he said, trying to fight off the nerves with his usual debonair.

“It’s a date.” You answered smiling softly, Draco smiled rivaled your own. You were certainly glad that you literally fell for him today.

anonymous asked:

Hey, could you send me the links you have about divination or just tarot if it's not too much trouble? Thank you for the help!

Hah, hah hah. I actually didn’t have ANY links at the ready. So I went and compiled all this for you. Hence why it took like 3-4 hours for me to answer this. Hope it helps!


Divination


Astrology / Star Reading


Cartomancy / Lenormand


Ceromancy / Ceroscopy / Candle Wax Divination


Lithomancy


Misc


Palmistry


Pendulums


Runes


Scrying


Shufflemancy


Stichomancy / Books


Tarot


Tasseography


* = external links

I wonder how much of that classic sense of, “I can have high expectations for how other people are treated, but view myself as trash,” comes from getting a lot of one’s basic lessons in love and empathy from books instead of peers

Like, I had almost no friends as a child, so I sat alone at recess, not playing with other children or being treated as worthwhile or interesting. The part of my brain that was supposed to encode my own personal experiences of being loved and treated well grew cobwebs while I was around other kids. So I brought library books out onto the playground with me.

Books saved me—books taught me that there were worthwhile friendships out there, and what they were like. I could tell when the characters deserved better. Books were like an author bottling up love and attention for me so I could open it up when I needed it. So I was kept entertained and learned what they looked like for other people.

But that didn’t change my own circumstances. Reading about someone being comforted when they were sad was very different than feeling someone else’s arms around me when I was crying. No matter how fiercely I wanted my life to be like the books I read, it wasn’t.

So I learned: There is a reality of love and care for other people, and there is a reality of loneliness and sorrow for me.

So no wonder I had a double standard for a lot of things in my life. My education in love was strictly bifurcated, and the important dividing line was whether a scenario included me, personally.

If true, this has all kinds of implications when it comes to treating the lonely love-starved bookworm, so I wonder.

Fruits - Peter Parker

request -  hi! i was wondering if you could write something about a peter x fem!reader where she’s homeschooled and doesn’t have friends and then she meets peter and they become close ? thanks!! 

a/n - i changed the request up a bit, and made the reader tony’s daughter to give it an even more ‘fluffy’ feel to it and i think it failed horribly BUT thank you so much for 1k!!! i can’t even believe all the love i’m getting for these fics, it makes me so happy to know you guys like them :) don’t forget to request a peter parker/spider-man fic if you’d like and follow!

I sat at the dining table just across from the living room, headphones in as I watched a math lesson that was just uploaded onto my school’s website. It was just around 10 AM when my school day started, a bowl of freshly cut fruits on the table as I took notes in my small book, sometimes glancing around to see if something more entertaining was going on.

Being the kid of a billionaire had it’s perks, but some downsides to it as well. Sure, I was able to access anything through money, but I was stuck at home a good 99% of my life, hidden away from the public eye at the request of my father. I’ve never been able to go to school and have a ‘normal’ life, with my only friends being the middle aged people the world calls the Avengers.

I paused the lesson and took my headphones out, heading out to the kitchen counter to pour a cup of coffee for myself, only to hear the door opening.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

Can you do a top 5 Haikyuu characters with the saddest or emotional backstory? The ones that really pulled at your heart strings and made want to cuddle them forever? At least so far in the story. Thanks!

Top 5 tragic (or not so tragic) backstories of haikyuu characters?

1. Oikawa. His backstory taught me a lesson that will stay forever with me. It taught me that’s it’s ok to be afraid, that’s it’s natural to feel despair when you’ve always been on top and suddenly other people start to catch up on you. It taught me that the only way to go on is to keep fighting. It taught me that’s ok to fail, but never to give up. Oikawa is such an inspiring character who went through so much, and hides everything behind his perfect facade. His backstory of struggles and his self awareness journey towards the realization that he’s not a genius, that being surpassed is not a possibility but it’s already his reality made him incredibly human and gave his character a force to be reckoned with. He will never stop trying to make the flower of his talent bloom again, again and again. It made me feel…so much. I love Oikawa, in all his fragile, flawed, indomitable self (ಥ﹏ಥ)

2. Tendou. *slams fist on the wall* WHO DARED TO HURT MY BABY TENDOU??? His flashback broke my heart in so many pieces. Those kids were so mean to him, calling him a monster just because he was different? He was just a little child who wanted to have fun and play volleyball…I’m so proud of how he turned his pain into his ultimate weapon (and kicked so many asses with it)

Originally posted by taejiwoo

3. Kageyama. More than his backstory as a kid, what hurt me was his time in junior high. When he arrived to Karasuno, Kageyama was like a hurt wild animal, so aggressive just because he was trying to desperately protect himself. He never had a true supportive team and was convinced that he always had to do everything by himself. He was ostracized, made fun of and abandoned, by his teammates and by the only guidance he ever looked up to. And now here we have him, our beautiful blueberry who learned to trust and to rely on others and who’s constantly improving to be the best setter possible, to his favorite spiker and to the rest of the team. He’s finally home, and that’s beautiful

Originally posted by not-haikyuu

4. Tsukishima. Eh, another pretty painful one that explained us why the Tsukki that we know is like he is. The contrast between his little self and his older self is heartbreaking. He was a still cocky but very happy little kid…who was lied to all that time. The sport that his beloved brother introduced him to now is just a constant reminder of the pain and anger he suffered. But still, he kept playing, even if…“It’s just a club”. These were all the elements we needed to appreciate the moment he was hooked on volleyball to the fullest :’) I’m so proud of Tsukki, his character development is one of my favorites.  

Originally posted by juminss

5. Ushijima. “The fact that he’s different from other people, will probably end up being his strength”. This was just a calming and comforting backstory, I loved Ushijima’s dad so much, he was really sweet. First of all, refusing to correct his left handiness was an incredible gesture of love (as a left-handed person, I relate so much), he never pressured him to become a volleyball player, and yet Ushijima did, he joined a strong team, he faced so many opponents that made him stronger, became the ace his father admired so much, he liked volleyball, and he made his dad happy. This is such an perfect (and unexpected) backstory for him. 

Originally posted by vyctornikiforov

That being said, I’m dying everyday waiting for Bokuto’s backstory. I’m ready for the pain Furudate, slay me. 

Thank you for your message!

Ask me my top 5 things!

Baseball Lessons/ Jeff Atkins imagine

Baseball Lessons

Jeff Atkins x reader

Request: Can you do an imagine of Jeff and make it all fluffy? Can you put my name in it, it’s Paige btw💓 love you imagines

A/N: I’m overwhelmed by the reactions I’ve gotten from my first imagine. Thanks so much! My request box is still open J I tried to combine this one with the fencing request because I know more about baseball than fencing.

Word count: 638


“Jeff! I don’t know how to do this!” you screamed at him from the other end of the field while you bounced up and down, holding the baseball bat.

“Of course you can!” Jeff screamed back, “Just…- wait. I’ll help you.”

Jeff was teaching you some baseball or at least trying to. He created a game that just the two of you could play.

He jogged towards where you stood and stood behind you. He grabbed your waist with both hands so you stood in a squad-like position. He encircled his arms around yours and held the baseball bat with you. Even though you had been dating for a few months now, it made you flustered.

“Okay… look at the ball, turn your body a little bit like this…” he whispered in your ear and he moved your body like an artist would move his sculpture. “Just like that.”

He let go of your body and you moved your arm to wipe the sweat off your forehead. Even though you hadn’t even played the actual sport yet, Jeff made you hot.

He jogged back to his original place and put on his glove again. “Okay go for it, babe!” he screamed and got into position to catch the ball.

You breathed out heavily and hit the ball with your bat. It wasn’t an impressive shot but you at least managed to hit the ball.

“Okay good!” Jeff rolled the ball back to you and you picked it up and put it back on the tee.

“Now try to run to a base after you’ve hit the ball, Y/N,” he said and got into position again.

You nodded at him and this time when you hit the ball, it flew pretty high. You dropped the bat like your life depended on it and ran to the first base.

When you got there, you looked around to see where Jeff was but he was still chasing the ball. This was your cue to run further.

“Babe! I’m winning!” you screamed at him while running.

Jeff turned around and instead of chasing the ball anymore, he started to chase you. “Oh hell no Y/N!”

You screamed in joy and when you were almost at the third base, Jeff caught up with you and grabbed your waist. You both fell down on the base with him on top of you.

“Well, well, well.” Jeff grinned at you and stroked your hair. “Looks like I’ve got a girlfriend who’s good at baseball,” he smiled as he kissed you softly.

One of your hands stroked his hair while the other stroked his jaw. “I love you, Jeff Atkins,” you whispered after you broke your kiss. This was the first time you told him that.

Jeff’s eyes widened, but then a broad smile spread across his face. He kissed you passionately and then kissed your forehead. “I love you too, Y/N Y/L/N.”

After that, you decided you played enough baseball and Jeff helped you up. You started slapping all of the sand off your body and when you turned around Jeff smacked your bum.

“Jeff!” you yelped.

“Sorry, there was a bit of sand there,” he smirked and you laughed at him and shook your head.


“So, how was your date with Y/N?” Clay asked Jeff at the cafeteria.

“Oh it was very nice, we went to third base actually.” Jeff grinned.

Clay just stared at him with his mouth open. “Jeff, I don’t need to know that,” he said while blushing.

“You know I’m talking about baseball right.”

Clay sighed and started laughing, “Yeah, I knew.”

Jeff just grinned and looked at you at the other end of the cafeteria, sitting with your friend Paige.

You looked at him and winked, making a mental note that you should play baseball with Jeff more often.

9

“We’ll steal your disbelieving heart!”

Part 3 of edit sets for witchsona AU

**Please DO NOT edit, use, or repost any of these! Thank you!

[UPDATED and COMPLETE character profiles (codenames, outfit, awakening scene, dialogues) under the cut!]

Keep reading

So, I was watching Star Vs. The Forces Evil episode Into The Wand and something caught my attention. Lil’ Chauncey, Moon’s war pig-goat pet thing, was in Star’s memories. She remembers him.

 She knows Chauncey died in battle but no specifics on which battle or when. Then we get to The Grandma Room and we see Moon’s tapestry and her poem which I sum it up as: Toffee dun goofed. Toffee is clearly terrified and there have been lots of theories as to why this happened. Most of which tend to be shippy or something else.

But look at Moon’s face. Look at that rage, that pure open hatred. What did he do? What could warrant such open hostility from someone we’ve seen as being so cool and reserved? Then is hit me: Star was alive when this event went down. Because Chauncey died in battle, shown here in this tapestry and Moon is clearly an adult and Star remembers Chauncey. Then I remembered how the royal guards used to babysit Star. Why? Where were the nannies? The caretakers? The royal nurses? They taught her how to fight, how to use a sword and weapons, how to kill an enemy with her bare hands before she ever hit puberty. Why would Queen Butterfly, Mrs. Prim and Proper, allow her only daughter to be cared for and basically raised by guards

Because she felt it was necessary to better protect her young daughter. I’m willing to bet this is Moon unleashing some serious mama bear rage against someone who threatened her very young child. Star was old enough to remember Lil’Chauncey, but perhaps not the attempt on her life or whatever it was Toffee was planning on doing to the royal family. Maybe it was a betrayal on his part since there are so many hints and theories revolving around the two.

(Just as a side note, I am very aware of the Moon/Toffee ship and while I do think it is kind of out there, I also kind of like it too. Unless it ends up being like the Luke/Leia thing like one new major theory proposes. In which case, NOPE.)

I also thought it was strange that Moon and River decided to send their daughter to Earth to better control her powers….without any other supervision except for Glossyrick who they and we all know probably isn’t the best person to be keeping a rein in on Star. It probably had something to do with keeping her from setting the whole kingdom ablaze in glitter and flaming rainbows, but I also feel there was something else to it. While there are no mentions of Toffee after Storm The Castle, Moon is clearly afraid. 

I don’t know if we’re doing the right thing River.

Also, for all of Moon’s faults, she loves her daughter more than anything. Star’s safety is paramount to Moon and even the cleaving of her family’s ancestral wand is no where near as important to her as Star’s safety. 

Oh, I’m always mad. But I’m happy that your safe.

I love this theory because it explains so much: why Moon acts distant but at the same time is a constant presence in her daughter’s life. Moon maybe trying to do what she can to protect her only child while also living up to the very high and difficult position of being a Queen of an entire…planet? Like, she’s trying her best to be a good parent and Queen even if she doesn’t go about it in a way that Star can respond to.

Also, don’t tell me we aren’t going to learn something new on Monday about Moon. Look at this image I found for Page Turner’s preview. She just looks so tired and so sad. This is a woman whose seen some shit, done some things she’s regretted and probably has a lot of dangerous enemies.

All to protect her only child. At least, that’s my theory until canon will most likely disprove it.


EDIT: OK, so…I am both awed by and grateful for all the likes and re-blogs this post has gotten so BIG THANKS TO EVERYONE! XD

           Also, after watching the last few episodes of the season I feel like this sort of at least helps support my theory. There is no proof – yet – I hope – but give what we’ve seen it makes me happy. Moon clearly is worried about Star. She wants her training to progress farther and quicker, there is urgency in her voice and it’s clear that she’s scared. Also, all the magic in the universe is disappearing? Makes me wonder just WHAT that wand even is, or at least what makes it so special if Ludo having half of it means it has negative effects on a universal scale.

           Also? Toffee’s picture comes up on the screen with the corn and everything? Like, Moon, pay the frick attention!        

           Another thing is that while Glossyrick claims to be doing his job to train Star to be a good Queen I still don’t feel…like he’s a good teacher. He plays the vague-advice thing way too much but then he kind of just lets Star do whatever she wants to anyway so…I don’t know if this is the most effective way to train Star since she is still just a young kid and has a hard-enough time paying attention. I don’t know if there is something to it but I don’t like how cavalier he is about things. The final few episodes’ kind of bugged me. Like, dude, this is her child’s future were talking about. She has every right to stick her nose in thank you very much.

           But Moon’s fears and the lesson she learns in this episode tug at the heart strings. This woman has to accept that her young daughter is growing up fast, into a universe that is facing some serious peril and Star will undoubtedly have to fight soon enough. Moon is afraid, the fear is palpable and she wants to make certain that nothing can go wrong. She probably does have some suspicions of what’s causing it but she can’t be certain. Also, Eclipsa? Heck yeah is she going to be important given how frequently she’s been name dropped.

           Things are getting serious in the universe of the show, Moon is afraid and she’s know that Star is going to end up in the middle of it. For a woman who already has so many huge responsibilities on her shoulders and yet she probably feels powerless to protect her only child.

           Gah! The feels!

l�zȒM"

Be my Queen- Part One

Summary- You and Loki have been friends since childhood. While your older sister Sif trained to fight with Thor, you were learning magic from Frigga alongside Loki. As you grow older both you and Loki believe the love you hold for one another is unrequited. Will this change when Thor is banished and Loki needs a queen to rule at his side while Odin sleeps? What will happen when you uncover a plot that will get Loki banished just like Thor?

Message- Reader is 7, Loki is 9. Sif is 12 and Thor is 13. Hela is an adult. Here’s part one! Hope you all like it! Sorry if it sucks.

Warning- there is a sort of spoiler for Thor: Ragnarok in this. Parents are arrested and reader is left abandoned. 

Background 

Word Count- 840

“But I want to play, too!” You huff.

“We are not playing, Y/N. Thor and I are training so we may one day ride into battle.” You sister Sif says.

“Then I shall train as well!” You squeal.

“No, you are too little.” Sif snaps.

“You are little, too! You are only 5 years older than me!” You huff as you cross your arms.

“You cannot come.” Sif says.

“But, Why?” You whine.

“Because I said so!” Sif snaps.

“Ugh, fine.” You mumble. “I will go look for Loki. Maybe he will play with me.” Then you run off, away from your sister. You end up wandering around the palace while looking for Loki. You were about to give up when you heard Queen Frigga.

“Just like that, Darling. Keep your mind focused.”

“Queen Frigga?” You ask as you knock on the door.

“Yes, Dear?”

“Have you seen Loki? I wanted to see if he would play with me.” You murmur.

“Come in, Dear. Loki is with me.” Frigga says. So you push the large door open.

“Hello, Lady Y/N.” Loki mumbles as he bows.

“Hello, Prince Loki!” You giggle. “Do you want to play?”

“I-I wish I could, but I am having my magic lesson with Mother.” Loki murmurs.

“Oh, maybe later then. Sorry to bother you.” You say as you move to leave.

“Y/N, Dear, would you like to learn, as well?” Frigga asks.

“Truly?” I am allowed? I am not too little?” You ask excitedly.

“That is the beauty of magic, my dear. It does not matter if you are big or small, male or female, rich or poor as long as you are willing to work at it you can become unstoppable.” Frigga says.

“I would like for you to teach me, please!” You squeal excitedly.

“Very well. But you must promise to come to every lesson and try your hardest.” Frigga says.

“I promise.” You say, in a very solemn voice.

Keep reading

I'll Always Write Back [Connor Murphy x Reader]

Title: I’ll Always Write Back

Pairing: Connor Murphy x Reader

Fandom: Dear Evan Hansen

Requested: by the lovely @the-murphy-family

Summary: Connor and the reader are friends online, but then find out they’re neighbors too. The reader is homeschooled, so she has no way of hearing the rumors about him. They become best buds and hang out with each other everyday and eventually fall in love

A/N: This was waaaayyy longer than I wanted it to be, so my apologizes in advance. Thanks again to @the-murphy-family for such a fantastic prompt, I’m sorry I rushed the exposition so much. I had so much fun writing this! (If you aren’t already following their blog, I highly suggest it).

Warnings: Connor’s potty mouth | First person reader | Fighting Murphy siblings

It was almost bedtime by the time I’d messaged him. I hadn’t planned on it, by any means. We talked after I’d finished my lessons for the day–he’d skipped school, I saw, which I always thought was off considering his mother was home.

I’d changed into my pajamas–just an oversized t-shirt and a pair of boxer shorts–and had begun to tuck myself into bed when I saw him.

He’d left his blind open tonight, and through the window screen I could see him silhouetted perfectly, all the lights in his room blazing. It was nearing 9:30, so I wasn’t too shocked to find he was still awake. The houses were so close together on this side of town and, from the second story window, there was nothing but a four yard distance between our windows–and a drop nearly twice that length.

He was sitting on the edge of his bed, staring straight ahead, giving me a view of his profile, the sharp angle of his jaw, the thin slope of his nose, and the hard jut of his adam’s apple.

 What startled me enough to give pause was the fact he was unnervingly still, unblinking, staring at something I couldn’t see. He wasn’t working on homework or painting his nails or playing that silly candy crush game on his phone. He was just staring.

Too far away for me to make out his expression, I instead rolled over onto my bed, clicking the lights back on and pulling out my phone, opening up the Chat app we used on the daily.

To: Connor
From: Me

What’s up, buttercup?

I wished I could see him–there were certainly nights we sat by the window and messaged back and forth, but starting out that way would mean he knew I saw him lost in whatever pensive state he’d been in, which more often than not would mean he’d be less than willing to talk. In my lap, my phone buzzed to life.

From: Connor
To: Me

Isn’t past your bedtime or something? 

I snorted, starting my own reply before:

From: Connor
To: Me

Are you having trouble sleeping again?

Swallowing thickly, I immediately replied:

To: Connor
From: Me

No, I’m fine. Just bored, checking to see if you were too :)

I tried to wait, give Connor a moment to compose whatever turmoil he’d been sitting in before I asked how he felt, otherwise I’d get a swift ‘okay’ and the conversation would take a dive bomb south at ridiculous speeds.

From: Connor
To: Me

If it’s nudes you’re looking for, sorry to disappoint, but I’m not in the mood tonight, kiddo

I choked, lunging forward in the bed to muffle my embarrassing squawk into my fist. Thank goodness my bed was out of sight of the window, or I’d have to watch Connor chortling at my less than appropriate reaction to his less than appropriate joke.

Connor and I had only been talking for about two months now, after I’d moved out here five months ago. Well, we’d been talking for nearly the entirety of the five months, but I’d only realized it was Connor not all that long ago.

To: Connor
From: Me

Oh no, whatever will I do without seeing your sculpted, rock-hard abs??? ;)

From: Connor
To: Me

Shut up, jerk off

I cackled into my fist, careful to not wake my siblings that slept in the next room over. It had taken a large amount of time to get used to Connor’s rather blunt personality, to put it pleasantly.  He’d always been candid, of course, ever since the first contact I’d had with him on the Chat app (“You swear you aren’t a pedophile, right? Or my dad? That’d be weird as fuck.”) and it had been thrilling to be with someone so open and ready to talk about things. The way he felt. The things he thought. The fact he was afraid.

We didn’t exchange photos for a long time–and I’d never seen Connor outside the house, other than the on and off times he’d flit across his bedroom window like a haunt, never knew his name–but the second his photo flashed on my screen, I knew. Even in the photo he hadn’t been smiling, the same stoic countenance he always wore.

He’d recognized my photo immediately, and had been less than thrilled. It took convincing–a lot of me showing up at the fence between our yards, very nauseous, promising it hadn’t been a mean joke–but he came around.

From: Connor
To: Me

You sure you’re good? You’re quiet

I smiled softly at my phone screen. It was a rare night when Connor had enough energy to be so concerned about others–it wasn’t his fault, I knew, he was just in a bad spot right now. The fact he could consider my feelings for more than a few moments felt remarkable, flattering. But, most importantly, it meant he was doing okay.

To: Connor
From: Me

I’m fine, pls don’t worry :)

To: Connor
From: Me

Are YOU okay?

From: Connor
To: Me

I’m fine, chill out

I rolled my eyes, unsurprised. Deflect and distract, his usually strategy.

From: Connor
To: Me

Can’t see you rn


From: Connor
To: Me

Come to the window

I sat up quickly, going over to shut out the light to blur my image to him. Combing my messy hair with my fingers, I tugged on my oversized shirt so that it covered my mostly exposed legs before throwing open the window and leaning out.

Connor, across the way, had already thrown his window open and was halfway leaning out, his face scrunched in confusion. He tapped something out on his phone, pausing every so often to tuck back the dark locks falling into his face. His other arm was braced on the window ledge, the sleeve of his hoodie pushed up to expose his bare forearms to moonlight, glowing a soft snow hue in the dark. My phone buzzed as he glanced back up at me with an open expression.

From: Connor
To: Me

Turn on the light, dumbass, I can barely see you

I smiled up at him, putting my phone aside to shake my head ‘no’. He frowned, slumping down a little more against the window, his chest pressed to the ledge, before holding his arms up in a 'why not?’ and flipping me the bird.

I typed out a quick response to let him know that my parents thought I was asleep. I watched him read the text, watched his eyebrows furrowed over his deep-set slate eyes, saw him frown, heard him swear under his breath. I bit back a chuckle as he carded his hand through his hair in frustration several times.

I vaguely wondered why this made so little sense–most of our conversation up to this point had been centric of me, but Connor was visibly frustrated (not that he wasn’t frequently) and earlier he’d seemed much to absent to not be upset about something. My phone buzzed to life, casting a blue glow across my face, and I saw Connor’s face stretch in recognition, pleased to make out my expression in the dark.

From: Connor
To: Me

Meet me in the pool house

My heart jackhammered in my chest at the thought of it–sneaking out. He was crazy, he had to be. He knew my parents would murder me for being up this late, let alone sneaking out, and worst of all, meeting a boy.
Not just a boy. Connor.

I felt him watching me from across the divide, at the edge of my vision and could make out where he leaned against the window, propped up on his elbows and head in his hands, hair hanging in his face. Glancing up, meeting his stony gaze, I nodded.

It was immediate, earning a reaction from him. Biting back my chuckle, he scrambled up from where he kneeled against the window ledge, his whole face smiling as he ran from his window without looking back. He was already standing in his backyard, waving wildly before I’d even departed from the window.

I decided against redressing or doing my hair–Connor was waiting and the quicker I got out there the quicker I got back without alerting my parents to my absence. Besides, it was probably too dark in the pool shed for Connor to make out my bare face and frizzy hair anyway, let alone the hair on my legs and the stretch marks on my thighs. As if Connor had the nerve to look to begin with, I snorted.

Sneaking out was surprisingly easy, and Connor had left the gate cracked just enough for me to slip in between. The door to the pool shed–just a small building, hardly smaller than my bedroom, at the edge of the yard–was slightly ajar, and I saw quick movements coming from inside.

Once in the doorway, clicking the door shut behind myself, I heard a sharp intake of breath behind me.

“Connor?” I called, spinning in the dark so that my back rested against the door, ready to exit if necessary. My eyes searched the dark frantically–in vain. There was a small window, vaguely fogged from years of neglect that allowed a slim moon beam to shine in on a small pile of towels and blankets, a little bean bag chair. Connor had told me not too long ago he and Zoe hadn’t played in here for years, which meant it held secrets long forgotten by either of the Murphy children. I felt honored to be inside it.

“Hey,” he breathed, and though I could see him, I recognized his soft voice just to the right side of me, breathy and soft. It’s too dark to make him out, and I noticed he’s careful not to touch me, but I can feel his breath against my ear, warm despite the fact it’s chilly for a June night. I felt goosebumps pimpling along my legs, making the hair stand up on end. I silently thanked the universe for giving me the gift of darkness to veil myself in.

“Feels like it might rain,” I sighed, turning toward the sound of him, the warmth. My bare arms brushed something–maybe cotton, maybe not–but it pulled back immediately away from me, accompanied by a quick intake of breath.

“Christ, don’t talk about the weather,” Connor hissed into the dark, a hard thunk resonating through the shed where he must have leaned his head against the wall, a bit too forcefully. How very Connor of him. “That’s the kind of shit my dad says in the car when he acts like he’s uncomfortable to be near me for more than ten minutes at a time.”

“Sorry,” I muttered, leaning away, and turning to gingerly pick my way across the shed–it was getting late now and I was already beginning to get tired. Connor may be able to stay up until the early morning hours, but I definitely couldn’t be trusted to be awake at eleven.

“Fuck, don’t be sorry, I just meant–shit,” he growled, and I heard another sharp pang against the steel inside of the shed–he’d hit something with his fist, if the metallic clink of what I assumed to be his ring against the sheet metal was any indication.

I stumbled my way to the beanbag chair, collapsing, and letting myself sink into. It smelled a little like chlorine and sun-in hair dye, but it was soft and warm, almost the size of a double bed. I wiggled upright, squinting again to see Connor in the dark now that I took up the only patch of moonlight in the building.

“You aren’t feeling alright, are you?” I asked softly, resting my cheek against the faux suede of the chair, struggling to keep my eyes open. There was a pause.

“That’s not why I asked you over,” he sighed in his tennor, stomping across the room, picking his way, until he flopped down beside me, displacing the insides of the chair and nearly rolling me out of it.

He reached forward with another soft swear, grabbing my shoulder blades to yank me back onto the bean bag bed, rolling me close so that I wouldn’t fall again. I laughed, unsure what was so funny–maybe it was the fact I’d nearly catapulted out of the chair due to all five pounds of Connor “Ribcage” Murphy, or the current situation, my face pressed against the soft cotton of his hoodie, his heartbeat steady and strong against my cheek. I didn’t move away.

To my surprise, Connor didn’t move away either, just kept both arms wrapped around me, hands firmly in place of my scapula as if scared to dip any lower. I felt the dip of his chin against my temple, felt his lips against my scalp.

“Aren’t you freezing?” He whispered, rubbing quick circles between my shoulder blades.

“Quit dodging my question, Con,” I hissed, beginning to pull away before Connor tightened his grip–surprisingly strong for a boy with such lithe wrists.

“But you are cold,” he muttered, slipping one hand down from my shoulder to my bare arms, rubbing in quick patterns there, attempting to make some sort of friction between us.

God, my parents would kill me if they saw me now.

I want to he clear I wasn’t under any pretenses–this wasn’t, er, Connor hadn’t called me out here so that we could, well–

“I’m fine, Connor,” I promised, taking advantage of the moment to fold my arms against him, trapping them between the heat of our bodies, letting my cheek rest idly against his chest. Connor didn’t like me, I knew, but in the dark shed…well, it was easy to pretend.

It was always easy to pretend to be someone else with Connor.

“You wanna talk about what’s going on with you right now?” I said with a false bravado, thumping his chest lightly with my fist. “You can’t hide anything from me, Connor Murphy. I know you too well.”

“You don’t know anything, dumbass,” he grumbled half-heartedly, and I felt him lean forward to press his face into my hair. “You don’t know shit.”

“So you’re lying to me?” I baited with a smile, tapping his chest, feeling his frustrated sigh and rewarding him with a light laugh. “I didn’t think so. I’m here for you, you know.”

“I know,” he growled, sighing heavily, taking one hand off my back to push his hair away, before letting me go entirely to roll onto his back. His thin fingers covered his face, the black fingernails scratching frustratedly against his pale face. “I just–I don’t, I don’t know how to–shit.”

I leaned forward to tap his chest again, letting him know I was here. “Just talk it out. I’m not going anywhere, I promise.”

He shocked me by reaching forward with one hand, knotting his fingers with my own and letting them linger against his chest. I was grateful he couldn’t make out my expression from his position, grateful for the fact he couldn’t feel my face flush. I’d never been this close with a boy in my life, and Connor knew that. He wasn’t being fair, and I was sure he knew that too.

Unless he didn’t. Connor had a bad habit of selling himself short. I bit back the urge to press a kiss to his bony knuckles.

“I know,” he whispered, voice suddenly hoarse. He was worse than I thought. “Um, it’s harder now? I guess. I trust you–I mean, I always trusted you. It’s um, it’s harder because the anonymity is gone, I guess? I’m worried now that you know who I am–what I am–you’re gonna get bored of me?”

I didn’t laugh this time. His voice was thick and rapid as if he couldn’t hold back the word vomit, like he’d been holding it back for a while. My own throat felt thick, and I couldn’t contain the guilty feeling in my stomach. I rolled forward, wrapping my arms around his thin waist, feeling his hip bone press against mine sharply. I was careful not to look at his face–it’d shut him down for sure.

“Connor…I need you just as much as you need me, you know that right?” I whispered, trying too hard not to let him hear the panic in my voice.

“I know,” he rasped shallowly, sounding oddly wet. He was crying, I realized stupidly. My heart constricted in my chest, my stomach dropping. He was in pain and I had barely noticed. This was all my fault.

“And even if I didn’t need to vent, if I didn’t need your support, I’d still talk to you because I like you, Connor. You’re my friend. You’re a good person,” I whispered.

“Shut up.”

“You are,” I continued. “You’re a great person and you’re always looking after me, even when you’re hurt. I’m so sorry you’re hurting, Connor, I’m so sorry I didn’t notice–”

“I’m not hurting! Shut up!”

“Shhhh,” I hushed, sitting up to remind him to be quiet. “You’re parents are gonna–”

His face was red. His nose and lips were swollen, wet, and his cheeks, flecked with silver freckles glowing lightly in the moonlight beam he laid in, and there were tear tracks running from the corners of his eyes.

“Connor,” I cried softly, reaching up to wipe his cheek. “Please–”

“Shit, I’m sorry,” he sobbed wetly, hands folding up to cover his face. “Just fucking get out, okay? This was a mistake.”

“Hey, hey,” I soothed frantically, reaching up to pet his hair, hoping that it might make him unfold himself. “I’m not leaving until you tell me what’s wrong. I’m gonna help, Connor, whatever you need. I want to help you, please.”

“I’m not your responsibility, kid, okay? You can leave. Stop looking at me, Christ.”

“No,” I sighed. “Look, if you don’t wanna talk, that’s okay. That’s okay. Just, let me stay, okay? I’m not judging you, I’m not gonna leave, I promise. I’m here for you. Let me be your friend.”

He shook underneath me, holding in sharp sobs. I wondered how long it’s been since he let himself fall apart like this, let himself have some kind of catharsis, let himself feel, period.

This relapse was good. It was under control. I was here. I had him.

“Okay,” he whispered finally, reaching up to tangle his hands in my hair. “Christ, just–don’t tell anyone, okay? Don’t laugh.”

“I won’t,” I promised. “I’m not. I’m here, okay? You don’t have to talk.”

“Okay. Okay…thanks.”

I might have imagined it, as I lowered my head back to his chest, might have imagined in between the soft presses of his fingers as they moved in and out of my, might have imagined, just briefly, the feeling of his lips pressed against my hair.

———-

The next morning was awkward. My parents and siblings showed no knowledge of the fact I’d snuck out to see Connor last night–it wasn’t as if they weren’t aware we were friends, to my parents chagrin and the Murphys’ delight, but I didn’t need them to think we were involved in some sort of torrid tryst, especially one we weren’t even having.

I left a few hours after Connor had slowly ceased his wet and much needed lament and his breathing had turned into a soft snore. I untangled myself from his arms, and leaned back for awhile to watch him sleep, tried to ignore how angelic he looked, red faced and weepy with silver freckles glowing mutely in the patch of moonbeam.

I’d sent him a quick text to let him know I wanted to return before my parents woke up, let him know I’d be by the next day. Told him to  message me if he wanted to talk again.

Now I was waiting for my mother to finish grading my papers for the day so I could to see Connor, who didn’t have school today thanks to some silly teacher institute, lucky loser. The American school system was a joke, to be quite honest.

“You’re jumpy,” my mother noted, scribbling something in the margins of my paper without looking up at me.

“I was gonna ask if I could go over to the Murphy’s? I haven’t talked to Zoe in a long time,” I asked sheepishly, scratching at my arm.

“And Connor, hmm?” My mother hummed thoughtfully, giving a smirk to my workbook.

“Connor’s cool,” I said honestly, nonetheless feeling a guilty lump rise in my throat.

“He’s a good boy,” she mused. “He always helps me with groceries if he’s outside.”

“Which is never,” muttered one of the younger kids, earning a kick under the table from me. My mom just smiled softly.

“Go ahead, honey. Call if you’re going to be longer than an hour.”

I thanked her, nearly sprinting out the door, my twin braids slapping against my back as I skipped between the yards. Zoe was at the door before I knocked, leading me into the kitchen, announcing me loudly in a way that would’ve earned a talking to at my house.

Cynthia appeared in the doorway, looking radiant, albeit a bit tired. Her face smiled brightly at me.

“Honey! It’s so good to see you, it’s been so long since you’ve stayed for dinner–Larry, tell Connor she’s here!–Zoe’s missed you, you should stay the night, right Zoe?–Larry, call Connor–Would that be alright with your parents? Stay for dinner then stay the night? I can run out and rent some movies and snag a pizza–Larry!

Zoe just rolled her eyes, yanking me down the steps past her mother and into the basement. Her grip on my arm was vice like, almost painful and definitely excessive. Her pretty red hair blew up in my face, making the already dark room even harder to see through the haze of her auburn locks. She practically shoved me onto the couch, following me by slamming down beside me.

“Zoe–”

“I saw you last night.”

My pulse hammered in my throat, and I felt all the blood rush swiftly to my face, making me dizzy.

“What?”

“I saw you. I told Mom. I don’t think Dad–”

“What do you mean?” I gasped, throwing my hands between us. Zoe blinked rapidly.

“You and Connor. In the shed. Last night. Christ, it was only ten, you could’ve been sneaky about it–”

“Zoe, we didn’t do anything,” I pleaded. God, if the Murphys knew, they’d tell my parents–

“You don’t really expect me to believe that, do you?” She sighed, pushing her hair back out of her eyes. “Whatever, okay? You don’t have to tell me, I don’t give a shit as long as you aren’t pregnant. Just–because you’re my friend, I want you to know some things. Are you gonna listen?”

I thought better than to argue with Zoe, so I nodded shyly.

“Look, I know you and Connor are friends. That’s fine, whatever. But you don’t see Connor at school. You don’t see Connor here, not really. Not what he’s like when you aren’t here.”

I felt my heart constrict. She was going to try to convince me to stop talking to Connor.

“He’s mean. You don’t think it’s weird you’re his only friend? He’s a bully. He’s lazy. He’s violent, Christ–he’s my brother, I love him. But you shouldn’t…you shouldn’t take him seriously, okay? One day his temper is gonna flip and you’re gonna be in his way.”

I blinked, stunned that Zoe would say something so slanderous about her own brother.

“I don’t understand,” I said softly, staring across at her. It was no wonder Connor was so upset, why he had to reach out to strangers on the Internet to vent. His own home was a war zone.

Zoe sighed heavily. “You aren’t at school. You don’t hear the rumors. You don’t see the things he does. If you wanna be friends, fine, but…be careful. I wouldn’t let him anywhere near your heart.”

I didn’t argue with Zoe–I thought better of it. So I just nodded.

“Thanks for, um. Thanks for the warning,” I said with a thick voice, struggling to maintain sincerity.

“You’re welcome,” she sighed. “Mom thinks you’re dating. She’s over the moon. It’s disgusting.”

“I thought you thought we were dating,” I pried, raising an eyebrow. Zoe rolled her eyes, hitting me with a deadpan expression.

“As if Connor could ever get someone like you. As if Connor could even feel something remotely close to love–I’m half convinced his chest is an icebox,” she laughed dryly.

“Talking about me, are we?”

We both spun, wide eyed to see Connor on the stairs, arms folded.

“No, go ahead, I’ll wait. I love hearing stories about myself. Tell me again Zoe about how I’m in love with her?” He hissed, making my face burn red in shame. I felt awful for letting Zoe talk about him that way–worse because Connor made it painful clear he didn’t reciprocate any feelings I might’ve had for him.

Wait. I didn’t have feelings. Connor was a friend. A good friend. A friend who needs me and who doesn’t deserve to be taken advantage of, not until he’s okay. Not ever.

“Never said that,” Zoe said with a smirk, rising from the couch gracefully. “But keep digging your grave, it’s fun to watch.”

“Fuck you,” he growled.

“Fuck you,” she grinned. “I’d love to watch your train wreck love admission, Titanic is on, and at least that story has a happy ending.”

Connor kept a white knuckled grip on the banister as she passed, as if holding in an urge to push her. He kept his blazing eyes downcast, and noted his pale cheeks were burning red.

“What’d she tell you?” He whispered once the door slammed.

“Nothing true,” I promised, leaning forward on the couch to make room for him, patting the seat beside me. “Nothing that changed my mind.”

His head snapped up, and I watched his expression go from rage to disbelief to awe before he descended the stairs, shaking. He stopped before the couch, as if scared to come near me, staring down in awe.

“What did my mom say to you?”

I shook my head. “Not much. She asked if I could spend the night. Only if you want me to, though.”

He laughed, but the smile didn’t quite reach his face. “Only if I want you to, Christ, where did I find you?”

“The Internet,” I reminded, earning another laugh.

“Of course I want you to,” he sighed, finally coming to sit beside me. “Of course I want–”

He cut himself off, surprising me, before slinging an arm around my shoulder. I stiffened, but eventually melted against him, reminding myself that it was just Connor.

“You wanna watch a movie? I hear they’re playing Titanic or something.”


——

It’s two am when I wake up, taking a quick mental assessment of where I am. There’s a soft blue glow burning my eyes, shining over what appears to be a nest of blankets piled roughly on the floor.

The Murphy’s basement, I realized with a jolt, I’m just at the Murphy’s.

I’m in a pair of Connor’s pajamas–Zoe’s clothes don’t quite fit me right–an oversized black shirt and a pair of sweats Cynthia brought down in a laundry hamper. My braids have long since come loose, the desperate curls tangling wildly around my head.

Beside me, Zoe is snoring, almost comically, every so often a nostril whistles in time to the soft sound of Dexter’s Lab playing on the tv.

There’s a hand, dangling just above my head. The pale fingers were curved artistically, the nails too short as if they’ve been bitten recently and the black nail polish chipped hopelessly. It’s attached to an arm, long and thin, almost angular, and up farther is a shoulder, bare, pressed against a red coffee stained couch.

Connor.

“You’re awake,” he whispered in a conspiratory voice, but when I sat up to make contact, there’s no sly smirk. He’s frowning. “You are having trouble sleeping.”

I shook my head. “Stop worrying about me, Connor.”

“No,” he rasped, sitting up on the couch. I avoided looking too long at his bare chest, but regardless indulged nonetheless.

“You haven’t been sleeping,” I noted, coming to sit by him on the couch. He immediately opened the blanket, giving me room to slide in beside him, before throwing it around both of us so we could settle back against the couch. His bare skin was warm, and I let him take both my hands between his, letting him rub my hands between his in an attempt at some warmth.

“Been thinking too much,” he sighed softly. “Don’t worry about it.”

I swallowed, beginning to feel the effects of sleeplessness and helplessness melt together in a fatal concoction.

“I can’t help if you don’t let me, Connor,” I reminded him, pressing closer. “Let me help. What are you thinking about?”

He leaned away, as if I’d burned him, dropping my hands into his lap and looking away, the thin muscle of his cheeks hollowing as he clenched his jaw. “Can’t say.”

“Connor,” I pleaded. “Please let me help. I want to. I’m begging.”

“No,” he growled. I felt tears beginning to build, to my own horror, behind my eyes.

“Connor, can you just–”

You.”

It was an explosion. We both froze, turning in horror to glance at Zoe, waiting to breathe until we heard the soft whistle of her nose again. I turned slowly, terrified back to Connor. His eyes were wide, and if I didn’t have my fingers wrapped around his knee, I swore he might try to run.

“Me?” I asked softly, careful not to wake Zoe. Connor pursed his lips, his jaw twitching nervously.

“Fuck, yes, you, just–shit, I didn’t wanna say that–”

I leaned away, watching Connor’s face contort farther.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered heatedly. “I’m sorry if I did something wrong. You want me to go, right? I’m really sorry, Connor–”

“What?” He nearly yelled. “You think–fuck.”

His head ducked, to my great surprise, against my shoulder, pressing his face into the crook of my neck and, of all things, began to laugh.

“Connor–”

“You think–Christ, it’s like you aren’t even real. You think I’m mad at you?”

He pulled away, his face no longer red or swollen, just smiling softly at me, almost awe struck, and staring intently with his slate eyes.

“I…I’m not sure?” I whispered, but not feeling at all nervous when Connor snaked his hands gently up my arms again.

“You’re perfect,” he whispered suddenly, shocking me. “And you have no idea that you’re perfect. Christ.”

I frowned. “Connor. I don’t…I don’t think I understand.”

But he was still looking at me–eyes scanning slowly over my face, landing suddenlyhalf-lidded on my lips, and it suddenly all clicked into place. Why Zoe would warn me. Why Cynthia acted the way she did. Why Connor was so scared in the first place.

I remember Zoe saying how over the moon Mrs. Murphy was at the idea of Connor and I dating–because that meant Connor would have me. It meant Connor would be happy.

It meant I would have Connor.

It was like a sudden dam had broken open inside me, filling me with more revelations as Connor’s hands lifted to cup the back of my head, his eyes soft, scared, and asking as they met mine. I let a quick exhale before I surged forward, slamming out mouths together much too forcefully, and not at all enjoyably.

I laughed–much too loud–but Connor kept back to the task at hand, his eyes closed in concentration, swallowing my outburst and folding me against his (very, very bare) chest and kissing me deeper, slower. It was painfully obvious he didn’t know what he was doing, but so much about the kiss was still tender and important, warming me from my core outward until I was scratching to wind my arms around him, getting him as close to me as I possibly could, kissing back to make sure he knew how much I wanted this. How much I wanted him.

How much I needed him. Anything he needed, I’d give him. Now and forever and–

“If you two are gonna fuck, can you do it in the bathroom or something? I’m trying to sleep.”

Connor and I pulled apart–causing me to stumble backwards against the arm of the couch gracelessly and staring at Zoe as she rolled over with her back to us.

I dared a peek back at Connor, whose lips were pink and wet despite their dry skin splitting with the force of his wide, wide smile.  His eyes were glowing brightly, almost burning as he raked them over me. The flannel blanket was pooled behind his back where it had been wrapped around us, and he just simply opened his arms again, inviting me back. His pale chest–pock marked with freckles, clusters on his ribs–was striped with pink lines from where my fingers had raked in a desperate attempt to give him validation.

I crawled forward, pressing my face against his neck in a hazy attempt to bring my breathing back to a normal speed.

“You okay?” I asked, running my fingertips over his shoulders, fighting the urge to word vomit an unholy collection of questions about who and what we were. Connor Murphy, post kiss. Connor Murphy, still life, smiling with wet, swollen, bloody lips. Connor Murphy standing at the edge of happiness, jumps over the ledge.

He nodded against me, fighting with his own dark curls where they made an attempt to cloud my cheeks in an adoring way. Cute, I decided.

“Okay? I’m,” he sighed, laughing and wrapping his arms around me to squeeze tightly. “I’m…you have no idea.”

“Better than nudes?” I teased. He snorted, embarrassed.

“I’m positive. Although–”

I hit him.

“Okay, kidding! Jeez…” he pulled away, cupping my face lightly, pushing the hair back out of my eyes like I was a child. It felt fantastic, he was right, as I searched through the galaxies in his eyes, his pale skin illuminated by the hazy blue glow of the television. It felt so far past amazing, being held like I was the only person he knew how to see. He cleared his throat, and I saw his eyes were brimming with an emotion I couldn’t name.

“You, uh,” he laughed nervously under his breath. “You have to know I love you.”

It was a startling blow, knocking all the air out of me and forced a bubbling laugh to fly out of my lungs. Connor’s smile wavered slightly, so I popped up to press a soft kiss to the cleft of his chin.

“I know,” I sighed, giddy with the realization it was true. “I know. And you know I trust you more than anyone. You know I love you.”

It was like watching him crack open, the way all the uncertainty was cleared from his face, a wave of joy and triumph.

“You love me?” He asked so softly, so awestruck, I felt my heart shake in my chest. I’d barely started to nod before he surged forward to kiss me again, small and chaste pecks across my face and neck, the bridge of my nose, my temples.

He was okay. We were okay. We were going to be just fine.

Gakuen Bungou Stray Dogs - Translations!! Part ONE

Gakuen Bungou Stray Dogs is a school AU that the official anime Twitter came up with! 

Translations were made by my awesome friend Maya @erochuya (her Twitter can be found here - she uses her Twitter more often) and edited by me! Enjoy~ ^^

The question for part one is: Please introduce yourself.

Keep reading

Dear Victor Hugo on your birthday,

Thank you for writing Les Miserables. It means a lot (probably too much) to me.

But mostly I want to say. I’m sorry.

I’m sorry your book is still relevant. I’m sorry your lessons fell on deaf ears. We are destroying our world through corruption and power and your writing has become more relevant than ever.

You state in your preface “as long as there is misery in the world books like this will be useful” but to think that in 2017, almost 200 years later, those words still ring true? It’s awful. So much has changed in the world, yet fundamentally the problems you address in your preface - and in the 1500 pages that follow - have barely shrunk a measurable amount.

Your book is an award winning musical now. It was filmed with a star-studded cast. It has had so many adaptation both for screen and radio I honestly cannot count them.
And yet nothing has changed.

I love your book. I think about it constantly. It is a work of genius and care to the extent I have not seen before. So this is a thank you for writing it.
But I hate that it is still relevant and I am sorry that your book is still useful.

Sincerely,
Me

Bts | Reaction | Attention

[ this is my weakness homigod - hope you enjoy, thank you so much for requesting !! ] 

Rated (M) for mature.


Seokjin 

➸ You were already on thin ice with Jin since the night began. With not only wearing the dress he kindly asked you not to wear - due to the generous amount of skin it showed - but also because you were being nothing but a tease. Not wanting to be at the dinner in the first place, being a brat was the only way you were certain he would drag you home to teach you a lesson. Which is what you’ve been aiming for all week.

The first step to your plan was the dress. The next being that you openly flirt with a couple of the boys, or even just some guys that would try to start a conversation with you and then deny it when Jin confronts you. You knew what you were doing, he knew that you knew, and that only pissed him off a lot more. Which is exactly what you wanted.

Now, came the final step that you were positive was going to be the last straw to break his composure. And, boy, were you more than right about that. When seated at your assigned table, Jin didn’t hesitate to grip your forearm and pull you in roughly - making sure that you were the only one to hear him.

“You’ve been defiant all night, princess. I’m asking you nicely to fucking behave yourself. Do not embarrass me, do you understand?” His voice sounded so strained, that it practically made you shiver with excitement. Your plan was working beautifully.

Without a response, you lean in closer than physically possibly. Confused as to what you were up to now, Jin nearly rammed his knee against the table in shock before almost choking on air. Were you seriously biting his ear? Right now? And why wasn’t he pushing you away? Why was he enjoying it? Question after question flowed through his brain at lightning speed - your sudden action of affection catching him off guard to the point he almost forgot where he was and nearly let out a small moan.

Quickly coughing to cover it up, he gently grips your chin - smiling just to throw off anybody who might be watching the two of you. But, his eyes were definitely a dead giveaway, no longer their sweet brown; more like a pitch black. Returning the sweet smile right back at him only seemed to add fuel to the fire that was now building up in the pit of his stomach.

“Oh, just wait until I get you behind closed doors,” he says through clenched teeth. “You wanted my attention - now you’ve got it.”

Yoongi

➸ It was currently 11:58 PM, and your forever hardworking boyfriend still hasn’t touched his side of the bed. This would be the second week in a row that you’ve been sleeping alone - and each time you not only grew lonely, but sexually frustrated. The lack of affection from him was driving you up the wall, you’re more snippier than usual, and even though you hate to admit it - you just can’t get off without him anymore. The light that rarely ever turned off from across the hall only made your blood boil even more - he was blowing up the electricity bill with this nonsense.

Of course, you knew how important his career was to him, always being his number one supporter no matter what. But, it would be nice if he would reciprocate and show you that you mattered, too. Just a simple ‘I love you,’ or even a peck on the cheek would be reassuring enough to let you know you’re not invisible in his world. Or even simply just coming to bed! 

You aggressively ripped the covers off your body, nearly slipping when your sock covered feet came in contact with the hardwood floor. Huffing as soon as you regained balance, you marched your way to his home studio, mentally hyping yourself up that you will get Min Yoongi to pay attention you - and take his ass to bed.

Once you walked in, without knocking, his writing only stops for a split second before it regains motion again. “What you doing up?”

He didn’t even bother to look up.

Fighting the urge to scoff, you cross your arms. “I should be the one asking you that. You’ve been at this since you got home, baby, it’s time to shut it down for tonight.”

It was like you didn’t even speak at all, his eyes still trained on the notebook in front of him. “Mmhm.”

You nearly strangled him right then and there. For someone who enjoys sleeping all the damn time, one would think he wouldn’t be such a night owl. Come to think of it, that’s probably why he does sleep quite often - his reacquiring late night sessions with his music was messing up his sleep pattern.

Suddenly, an idea pops into your head, making a Cheshire-like grin spread across your face. If you have been denied sweet release for so long, so has he. Yoongi was just as sexually frustrated - his lack of sleep only fogging over that part of his brain - but all it took to bring it back was the right touch. 

And you knew just how to do it. 

Sauntering your way over to the desk chair, you grabbed it by the back and swung it to face your direction. With pen still in hand, but no longer connected to the notebook, he stares at the space where his desk used to be - confused as to where it had gone.

Finally looking up and realizing you had turned him around, before he could even voice his annoyance of you getting in the way of his work, the mere sight of you starting to straddle his hips was enough to shut him up. Maybe it was the pent up frustration from the lack of sexual contact - but Yoongi couldn’t remember the last time you felt so good sitting on top of him. Now looking up at you with hooded eyes, his pen falls from his finger tips as his hands find their way around the curve of your ass. It wasn’t until you leaned downward to press hot kisses against his neck did you finally regain all of Yoongi’s attention. From the sound of him already groaning in response, you knew he needed this just as much as you did.

“Fuck, jagi…what do you need - tell daddy what you need.” He heavily panted, hips bucking desperately to create some sort of friction, grip on your backside tighten with every suck you gave his neck. “You have m-my attention…”

Namjoon

➸ Your recent argument spiraled into something much more complicated than the actual topic itself. In your eyes, Namjoon was smothering you. You had brought up that he never trusts you enough to hang out late with your friends, or even so much as have a normal conversation with a guy. Apparently, that didn’t sit right in his stomach. 

“You’re being over-dramatic, Joonie, all I want is space! That’s all!” 

“So, I try to protect what’s mine from guys who are trying to steal you from me, and now I’m suddenly a dictator?” He seethes, pacing back and forth while you watched from your spot on the couch. “Honestly, Y/n, I have a feeling this isn’t about me.” 

“Oh? Then what is this about? Enlighten me, with your high IQ.” 

“You like the attention. Every time we go out with your so called ‘guy-friends’ you make sure I get pissed off! You like getting a reaction out of me.” 

“You’re insane.” You shake your head, standing up from the couch. “There’s no way you’re that full of yourself, that you actually think my life revolves around making you jealous.” 

Namjoon shrugs his shoulders in such a condescending way, all you could do was scoff. 

“Whatever, be that way. I’m going out, or do you wanna tag along and make sure I don’t try any funny business with the bartender - like I supposedly did the last time.” You grabbed your keys from the coffee table, hurrying to put on your shoes. That argument ran longer than you expected, so now you were late. 

Now it being his turn to shake his head, he plops his tall frame onto the couch, resting his hands behind his head. “Nope. Have fun.” 

Halting for a split second, you turned your head in his direction with a raised eyebrow. Namjoon did nothing but take out his phone, his focus on the small screen rather than your retreating form heading for the door. 

“You’re being for real?” 

This time he didn’t even respond with words, just a low grunt. Rolling your eyes at his sudden immature behavior, you decided to take advantage of this little ounce of freedom you had tonight - having a feeling by the time you got back, it would be right back to the over-protective Namjoon. 

But, little did you know - you would be mistaken.

Three weeks have passed since your little argument, and you were starting to catch on to a pattern about now. Every time you would tell him you were going out, or you would be home late, all he did was grunt. Grunt, grunt, grunt. The only time you would get a worded response was when he came home from practice, and told you he was going to bed. 

It was starting to drive you nuts, the fact that he’s now putting little to no effort in knowing what you did anymore - like he didn’t even give a shit if you ever came back or turned up dead. Not to mention, if we were being honest, you two haven’t fooled around in those three weeks. Since you’d be coming home late, he would either be in the bed already or passed out on the couch. Usually he would be wide awake, waiting for you, and sometimes it ending in the both of you having lazy sex before bed. 

But, ever since that argument - you’ve gotten nada. And it’s made you bitchy beyond belief. Him ignoring you was definitely icing on the bitter cake. By now, you had figured it out. He was doing this on purpose. 

“Are you fucking serious with this, Namjoon? You’re being so childish for no reason, all I want is for you to trust me - I hate that this was the only way for me to get freedom, but now I’m over it.” Not even a grunt this time; your blood pressure was definitely going through it at the moment. “Kim Namjoon - I know you hear me talking to you!” 

Marching up straight to him, you didn’t hesitate to grab his phone out of his hand, catching him completely off guard - but didn’t mean he was going to give you the satisfaction of letting you know that. But, you did happen to catch the faint smirk that was slowly creeping onto his face. He was enjoying this. 

“You think this is funny? What point are you exactly trying to prove here, huh?” Namjoon leans backward with his hands behind his head, the smirk no longer hidden as he stared up at her with a glint of mischief in his eyes. 

“Tch, someone’s a little on edge. Feeling a bit frustrated? Angry? Am I giving you enough space - wouldn’t want to be smothering you, baby.” 

“So, you are still heated about what I said.” He loftily shrugs. Sighing, you place his phone on the coffee table before straddling his waist. Having to bite his lip to keep from groaning at the position, Namjoon tries to look anywhere else but at you. “Joonie, I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings. And to be honest…It was more fun to go out, and have you be jealous all the time. It was sort of a fucked up way of showing me that you cared - at least the nights you didn’t come, you would at least wait up for me. But, now you don’t do anything, and that scares me. I feel like I made you stop caring…”  

Subtly, you slowly start to grind - making the poor boy’s eyes start to pop out of his head as he still fought not to look at you. “I’ll admit…sometimes I get touchy with my guy friends to get a reaction out of you - but I can’t help it. You just look so sexy when you’re mad, Joonie~” 

He couldn’t stop the moan that escaped when you started to grind a little harder, his hands subconsciously gripping your waist tightly which he grit his teeth to keep from making anymore sounds. Now it being your turn to smirk, you lean in closer to where he could feel your breathing fan over the side of his face, mouth now slightly agape as you blew cold air into ear. Mentally cursing himself for wearing sweatpants, it was very obvious that he was enjoying what you were doing - him too missing these late night sessions. He only did all this to prove a point, sure he was correct all along in the end, but now he no longer gave a shit. 

As soon as your tongue connected with his hot skin, then followed by your lips to finally your teeth - Namjoon needed you now more than ever. 

“I do like the attention, I do~ Please pay attention to me again, Joonie. I won’t go out as much anymore, I’ll stop making you jealous on purpose, just please - I need you.” You had his attention, alright. 

And then some ;)

Hoseok

➸  It’s not like he was doing it just to spite you, it was his job. It’s not his fault that he’s busy, out there doing what he loved, while thousands of fans cheered him on. But, that didn’t mean he had to completely shut you out.

Unintentionally speaking, you knew how extra your boyfriend could get when he performed  - it was just how he was. Hoseok was a perfectionist when it came to choreography, it was another language he spoke, his passion.

 Anytime something would pop into his head for a new dance move to try, just like Suga, away went the rest of the world. It didn’t matter if it was Tinashe herself, Hobi wouldn’t notice - he was in the zone. And, man, was it hard to get him out of there. You would know. 

You were currently trying now. 

After returning home from a long day of your activities, all you were looking for was just a little cuddle time with your favorite ray of sunshine. The thought of him waiting for you with open arms was enough to bring you out of your funk just a little bit…until you heard the music blasting from upstairs. And that only meant one thing: Hobi’s in the zone.

 But, not this time, you thought. Tonight you were going to get his attention back no matter what. He would be leaving soon for their world tour, and dammit if you didn’t get at least one night of some loving before he left, you swore you would be salty the whole entire time he was gone. Or until you ate some food - whatever comes first. Shedding out of your day clothes and into a loose tank with some spandex shorts, you decided that, today, you were in the mood for a little dance lesson. 

The beat of the music shook your insides more, the closer you got to the dance studio next to your shared bedroom. Not even bothering to knock, there in his sweaty glory was none other than the dance junky himself - Jung Hoseok. Grinning slyly at how smooth and precise his movement was, you couldn’t help but to stop and take a minute to admire his technique. He and Jimin don’t play when it came to dancing, that’s for sure. His dancer hips was a personal favorite of yours. Even with all the mirrors that surrounded the room, Hobi still didn’t notice you walk in - his eyes literally trained on every step, every hip thrust, every facial expression that he made to burn it into his mind, until it felt natural.  If it wasn’t for you turning off the lights, nearly bursting out laughing when he screamed, he probably never would have noticed. 

“Y/n? Is that you?” He whimpered. 

Turning the lights back on, you could no longer hold in the cackles when you saw the look on his face. Even though you didn’t do it often, for his sake, you loved scaring him when you had the chance. He was the king of facial expressions, making it 10x more fun. 

“Yah! Stop laughing!” He pouts, rushing over to pause his music. “When did you get home, I didn’t even-”

“Hear me come in? Yeah, I know. Not too long ago, just wanted to come up and join in the fun.” You watched as his eyes scanned your attire, before a playful scoff is his only reply. “What?”

“Jagi, you can’t dance.”

“I can hold a beat!” You defend. “Besides, even if I can’t, I still got the world’s best dance teacher in the world. Not to mention the best boyfriend, who would love to teach the best girlfriend a few moves~”  

You bat your eyelashes as your tread closer to where he stood. Hoseok, not being able to resist when you acted like this, sighs before nodding his head. 

Leaning closer to pinch your cheeks, he restarts the music and rushes to stand behind you. “Alright, first you set your feet like this. Good, now, just simply swing your hips from side to side.” Doing as you were instructed, you weren’t expecting him to straight up start giggling in your ear. “N-Not like that - oh god…” 

“What?” You couldn’t help but laugh along with him. “What am I doing wrong, we haven’t even started yet!” 

“Exactly, you’re just that bad.” He continues to giggle. 

Pursing your lips at him through the mirror, the ghost of your grin from earlier made an appearance, as now was a more perfect time than any - finally being close enough to get what you’ve been wanting for the longest. Swiftly turning on your heel before he had time to catch his breath, you snaked your arms around his neck, pulling him closer than physically possible. If words could describe the look on his face - priceless.

“Jagi? W-What are you doing?” 

Using one finger to trace the back of his neck, you could practically feel him shiver at your touch. “You’ve been ignoring me for far too long, Hobi. I understand that this is important to you, I do. But, am I not important anymore?” 

He gulps, hands still upon your hips, the sensual beat of the music still playing in the background. Shaking his head slowly, eyes fluttering as you continued to tickle the back of his, Hoseok licks his lips once he found the right words. 

“Of course you are, I-I just..I’ve been busy lately, that’s all. You know how this tour is gonna be big for us, and I’ve just been-I’ve b-been-ah~” 

Not expecting you to just lean in while he was talking, and practically nip at his throat, Hoseok tightens his grip on your hips as small gasps fell from his lips. The faint taste of salt hits your tongue as it decides to join in the assault, marking him deeply to get your point across. 

Pulling away with a small pop, you marveled in the fact the he practically whined at the loss of contact. “I just wanted to give you a sneak preview of what you’ll miss out on when you leave. I could give you the full show, buuut…you seem busy~”

Before you could even think about pulling away, Hoseok didn’t even loosen his grip upon your hips, only tugging you even closer - until you could blatantly feel what you’ve just done to him. 

“Never too busy for you, princess. You officially have my attention~”  

Jimin

➸ Jimin thought it would be funny to ignore your desire for kisses all day. When you would lean in for a small one, he would swerve the other way. When you asked nicely, he’d make it seem like he would finally give you what you wanted - only to whisper a small ‘sike’ and run away. Even when you tried to sneak one, he was childish enough to hit you with a goddamn pillow.

You were not happy.

You wanted to give him a taste of his own medicine - you just didn’t know where to start. Jimin was slick, he was slippery - his friends made it look so easy to trick him, but whenever you tried, it always ends up blowing up in your face. What were you doing wrong?

“You’re trying to out-think Jimin with your brain, noona.” Jungkook would chuckle, patting your head.

“Is that not the normal thing to do when you want to trick someone?”

“Well, yeah, but he’s used to that type of method by now. I mean, all six of us have done it to him that way numerous of times. He’s expecting it.”

“Then, what do you propose I do - oh, wise Jeon Jungkook?” You raised up from laying face down on the couch, your eyebrow soon following. “Because, by all means, I’m all ears.”

The maknae does nothing but grin for a moment, before shrugging his shoulders. “Isn’t it obvious? You’re a woman, Y/n, his woman. Use that to your advantage - make him want you, instead of the other way around. You can trick him in a way us guys never could - with lust.”

You stayed silent as you stared at the younger with a disturbed expression. But, after a moment of replaying the advice in your head, it was scarily starting to make sense. Thanking him for his help, you make your way to your shared bedroom to change into something a little more…appropriate.

It was movie night in the BTS dorm, which was the perfect time to play out the maknae’s pure genius advice. Everyone was winded down, dressed in their pajamas and ready for you to start the movie. The only problem was - you were no where in sight. Taking a look around, Jimin asked Jungkook where you might have gone - since he was last to be with you.

“She went to go change, I think.” 

Smirking at the mere thought of you changing, Jimin thought that would be the perfect opportunity to tease you a little before the movie stared - then he could tease you some more while it played. Already so confident in his plan as he practically skipped to your shared bedroom, you could just imagine the color draining from his face once he caught sight of what you had changed into. You were wearing one of his shirts with a pair of boy shorts underneath. How he knew that, you wonder? When he walked in, you were practically bent over - searching for a movie that was kept in a little cabinet next to his bed - giving him a full view on what he’s been missing out on, all day long. 

You wouldn’t have known he came into the room until he let out a small, almost inaudible, whine from the door. A slow grin crept onto your face, as you did everything in your power to make your current position even more sensual than it already way. Wiggling your hips slowly, making it seem that you were trying to take some of the pressure off your knees, you could practically hear him drooling at the door. Hm, not too fun being a tease now is it? 

Deciding to finally stand, you played it off as if you hadn’t heard him come in, feigning innocence. “Oh, I didn’t see you there! Sorry I took so long, I was looking for your favorite~” 

You handed him the movie while keeping his intense eye contact. His mouth still hung open slightly as he stared, what he just witnessed left it dry and unable to produce words. It wasn’t until you slowly wrapped your arms around his shoulders, tilting your head to the side. You didn’t miss the subtle way his eyes trailed down the path of your exposed neck - your hair being up, and giving him full visual of the unmarked skin. 

“Is something the matter, ChimChim? You look a little troubled.” His mouth slowly closed followed by a lick to his bottom lip. Dropping the movie you had given to him, he went to wrap his arms around your waist - only for you to roughly grip them and pin him to the wall next to the door. Where that boost of strength came from was beyond him, but it sure was a turn on. 

Your innocent act didn’t take long to fly out the window, your face now just as dark and menacing as his. No longer having the patience to talk, you slowly lean in toward his plump awaiting lips, them parting slightly once again - anticipating the feel of yours after a whole day of avoiding them. But, the satisfying warmth your lips would give never came - making the boy scrunch his eyebrows in confusion. It wasn’t until he felt them attach to that spot below his ear, that his face instantly relaxed as a breathy moan fell from his own. 

But, as fast as the pleasure came - it was quick to go, as well. Back came the scrunch in his eyebrows as his eyes fluttered open, his breathing coming out in pants as he now stared at you with bewilderment. 

“Aw, you didn’t think after all the shit you’ve pulled today, I would give you what you want so easily, did you?” Looking down for a second, you bit your lip to keep from giggling at the painfully noticeable hard on he now had. 

“J-Jagi, you can’t leave me like this!” He practically whimpered, begging you with his eyes. “I’m sorry I was being a little shit all day - I promise I’ll make it up to you, please I need you so bad…”

“Will you be a good boy for me, Jiminie?” 

He gulps before nodding. “Y-You have my attention.” 

Taehyung 

➸ this gif is pretty explanatory lol 

Jungkook 

➸ as well as this one. 

|reaction masterlist|

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Fun Fact Friday!

If not for giant sloths, we might not have avocados to enjoy today.

Prehistoric ground sloths first appeared around 35 million years ago. Dozens of species lived across North, Central and South America, alongside other ancient creatures like mastodons and giant armadillos. Some ground sloths, like the megalonychid, were cat-sized, but many were massive. The Megalonyx weighed about a ton, and that was small compared to megatherium, which could reach six metric tons, as much as an elephant. They ambled through the forests and savannas using their strong arms and sharp claws to uproot plants and climb trees, grazing on grasses, leaves, and prehistoric avocados. Smaller animals couldn’t swallow the avocado’s huge seed, but the sloths could,and they spread avocado trees far and wide.

Can we get a ‘thank you giant sloths!’?

From the TED-Ed Lesson Why are sloths so slow? - Kenny Coogan

Animation by Anton Bogaty

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Thank you Isak for a season full of lessons, love, friendship, heartbreak and acceptance. Seeing you go through your journey was one of the best experiences we could ever have  ♡

Whether you believe in Allah, or Jesus, or the theory of evolution, or parallel universes there is only one thing we know for sure… life is now.