the answer to this question is always a lie

Damian smirks once you walk away, satisfied with his answer and Damian turns to look at his older brothers. “I do not want to tell you so but I told you so.” He says smugly and Jason rolls his eyes.

“How do you always manage to get away with stuff like this?” Jason questions. He is curious – out of all of his brothers, Damian is the only one that is able to lie through his teeth and end up scot free from any punishments which Jason does not think is alright at all.

You gave them grieve for breaking your Chinas at one point! (Granted, you did warn them beforehand to not play football in the manor).

“Tt.” Damian crosses his arms. “Of course Talia taught me how to – “

Jason groans. “It was a rhetorical question, Damian.”

Dick chuckles before leaning in to whisper in Jason’s ears, “you do know Ma’s just playing along with Damian right?” Jason raises one of his eyebrows as he looks at Dick. Dick nods his head and Jason snorts before schooling his expression when Damian narrows his eyes at the both of them suspiciously.

“What are the two of you conspiring now?” Damian crosses his arms. “Well?”

Dick shakes his head. “Let’s go inside lest Ma starts to wonder what we are up to again.” Dick ushers his brothers back in to the manor. “Where is Tim anyways?”

disclaimer - i’m not a career coach. this is just advice based on personal experience. as a business/marketing major i interviewed with companies like google, nike, philips, and am now interning at microsoft. these tips will not guarantee you a job and some things might not work in your country/industry (but hopefully they will help you along the way!)

1. your resume

  •  this is your ultimate marketing tool. make it work for you. i personally prefer resumes that are limited to 1 page.  it’s true that recruiters only glance at your cv for just a couple of seconds, so make yours stand out, yet keep it minimal/simple.
  • for each job, list bullet points and make them result-driven (and make your first bullet your best bullet).

(i will share some example layouts soon)

2. the application process / preparing for your interview

  • you have nothing to lose. see a job that interests you? just apply! even if you don’t meet all the requirements, it’s worth a shot. what’s the worst that can happen? you might think “but i’m not good enough for this job” - lemme tell ya, that mindset is not gonna land you ANY job at all. 
  • don’t wait until the application deadline. 
  • prepare a pitch about yourself and memorize this so you’re good to go when the interviewer asks you to tell something about yourself.
  • there are many websites out there that list basic interview questions. make sure you prepare for these. just google (common/top) interview questions”. make sure you have an answer in mind. 
  • it’s okay to indicate some of your weaknesses, but either conceal them with a strength or tell them that you’re working on improving yourself. no one is perfect. show that you’re eager to learn and grow. 
  • study the company. don’t just look at what they sell, but also study their mission, history and what they do “behind the scenes” (e.g. philanthropic initiatives). also have an answer to why you would want to work for this company (and why you choose them instead of their direct competitor).
  • ALWAYS prepare questions for the interviewer, too. one question that i like to ask is “what is one thing you DON’T like about working for this company?”. i have asked this to managers at google and microsoft, and some didn’t have an answer for me hehe. surprise them. 

3. the interview

  • BE YOURSELF! i can’t stress the importance of this enough. it’s totally ok to be nervous, but try to relax anyways!
  • practice a firm handshake.
  • always be prepared to elaborate on your cv and job experiences. this shouldn’t be a problem as long as you don’t lie on your cv lol. 
  • dont worry about awkward silences when the interviewer asks you a question. take some time to compose your answers rather than simply trying to bridge the silence by blurting out something . some companies also like to hear your think out loud.
  • take some time to get to know the interviewer. if s/he doesn’t do so already, ask the interviewer to tell something about themselves.
  • dress accordingly (some companies require you to dress smart, others are fine if you show up in a casual outfit). if you don’t know what the dresscode is, don’t be afraid to contact the recruiter about it. 
  • didn’t get the job? don’t be so hard on yourself. you tried your best, so consider your interviewing process a lesson and a training. 

4. on the job

  • networking is important. schedule coffee with your teammembers so you can get to know them better one on one (maybe you’ll even make some friends along the way). are you interested in what other teams or departments do? don’t be shy and get to know them too. (note: do check your organizational structure. by that i mean: don’t just schedule coffee with all senior managers and directors if that is not a part of your company culture lol)
  • if another intern is onboarding you and showing you the ins and outs, always take notes. you tell yourself you will remember everything, but trust me; you won’t. write down any instructions you receive and you will thank yourself later. 
  • never ever be afraid to ask questions. don’t be afraid to ask for help.
  • don’t be afraid of new challenges.  

if you have any q’s, shoot me a message. got any additional tips? feel free to send me those and i’ll add them to my list (ofc i’ll credit where due).

good luck everyone! 

Don’t Flirt With Him (M)

Originally posted by ciutae

Pairing: Jimin x reader (feat. Sungwoon from Hotshot)
Genre: smut with a fluffy end
Word count: 3.2k
Content: dom!jimin, slight spanking

Description: No strings attached? Turns out differently as Jimin showed you jealousy for the first time at a party.

The vodka burned straight down your throat as you took the shot, it being the third one that night already. For the time being there, you were looking around for Jimin since he was the one who invited you to his party in the first place. So why wasn’t he there?

Oh. Yeah, he’s probably flirting with other girls again, you thought and sighed out loud, your hand already reaching for the vodka to sip yourself another shot.

Keep reading


Peter Parker X Reader

Word Count: 1907

Warning: There is a teeny bit of kissing. But it’s kind of cute????

A/N: Hey, I know this isn’t a Crash Landing update, but I’m kind of struggling with it at the moment. So, I wrote this. Also, if you haven’t seen an earlier post, I’m away for the next four-ish weeks, so don’t expect to hear all too much from me for a bit. I am trying to queue up some writing, but I can’t make any promises! I love you guys!

Want to be tagged in future fics? Please let me know!

(not my gif)

Keep reading

All Too Well | Pt. 8

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Epilogue

Summary: You and Yoongi shared a loving relationship with one another until you both agreed to end things and pursue your separate careers. But two years later, Yoongi is a member of the ever growing Bangtan Boys, and you are a new makeup artist for their upcoming tour.
Pairing: Yoongi | Reader
Genre: Fluff/Angst/Smut; Idol & Makeup Artist AU
Word Count: 6,330


“Have you talked to Y/N recently?”

Jeon Jungkook flickers his gaze over to the speaker, having only caught the faint murmur of a voice through his headphones, before the maknae tugs the equipment off of his head. “Sorry, what did you say hyung?”

Yoongi sighs, shutting his laptop completely and silently beckoning the other boy to follow suit. He has been battling this internal question for the past few hours, in spite of its simplicity, but it’s the context behind the question that has Yoongi all worried about what the answer could lead to. He has always been told not to ask questions he did not wish to know the answer to, and yet here he was: asking something in which the response was likely to terrify him. Yet, still doing so anyways.

“Have you talked to Y/N recently?” He repeats, heart ramming out of his chest as he gauges the youngest for any shift in expression to indicate an answer. But Jungkook is no longer that shy 15 year old who couldn’t lie to anyone’s face, the boy hides his emotions well. “I know that you guys… are friends.”

Jungkook momentarily can’t meet Yoongi’s gaze—the youngest looks set on tracing the outline of the headphones that rest along his neck—before he finally looks up. “Are you trying to ask if I know about what happened between you and noona? Because I do.”

Keep reading

Now or Never

Originally posted by mixedangel

“Y/N,” he smiles, “Can I ask you something?”.

He looks up to you from the floor at the foot of your bed, putting down his notebook in the process.

You peel your eyes from the entrancing pages of your book to meet his gaze, welcoming any and all forms of communication from an even more enticing subject.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

Pls tell me about your feelings on Breha Organa, I am Here For It, please talk to me about how this woman is amazing and overlooked.

My time has come!

Okay, I have a headcanon post about Breha here, as well as Alderaanian culture headcanons here and some very important information about Breha’s punning style here.

I’ve also got a fic about Breha and Bail as an asexual couple here.

Now that all the linking’s out of the way, here are some other thoughts.

In the supposed debate between nature and nurture, I tend to come down more on the nurture side, and in that regard I think Leia takes after her mother pretty strongly.

Breha is known for both her compassion and her devastating wit. She’s an accomplished debater, and she takes a hands on interest in every aspect of Alderaanian politics.

She always encourages that interest in her daughter: she brings Leia with her to everything, from state visits with foreign dignitaries to trips to dairy farms and nerf pastures. Leia watches the way her mother talks to people: the openness and genuine interest in her conversations with mountain herders, the closed off, careful mask she puts on for every meeting with an Imperial Moff.

When Leia is seven, she sneaks into one of the Queen’s top secret briefings, and later that night she asks her parents, “Mama, Papa, are we Rebels?”

Bail is terrified. How had she found out? Were they putting her in too much danger? And if she’d overheard something, was it possible others had, too?

But Breha hesitates only a moment before telling Leia, “Yes. We are.”

In a galaxy where the Empire poses an imminent threat to everyone, ignorance will not protect their daughter, she tells Bail later. Leia is already very aware of the political realities of the Empire, and she’d seen enough to ask the question. She deserves an answer, and Breha isn’t going to lie to her. The only sure protection will be the liberation of the galaxy.

Growing up, Leia sees more of her mother than her father. Bail is away on Coruscant with the Imperial Senate for about half the year, but Breha, as the ruling Queen of Alderaan, is based in the palace in Aldera. She travels frequently, though, and almost always takes Leia with her.

And she receives frequent visitors at the palace, too. In particular representatives of the Imperial government. When the system of regional governors is first introduced, Alderaan is one of the first worlds they visit. Breha entertains the newly appointed Governor Tarkin with a steely grace and cleverly disguised disdain - something Leia recognizes instantly but Tarkin doesn’t seem to pick up on at all.

As a child Leia thinks her mama is invincible. She can lie to Moff Tarkin’s face and never lose her smile. She can use her words as weapons and her silences as a shield.

When Leia follows her father’s footsteps to the Imperial Senate, it’s her mother’s cool, sarcastic, fearlessly direct approach she takes as a model.

taken from the book  ‘ the gay science ’  by friedrich nietzsche

❛ their whole nature fails to persuade ❜
❛ they have never remained silence about any of their good deeds ❜
❛ he always carries a biscuit for cerberus ❜
❛ either we have no dreams or our dreams are interesting ❜
❛ let those who have ears, hear ❜
❛ before the effect one believes in different causes than one does afterward ❜
❛ anyone with a very loud voice is almost incapable of thinking subtleties ❜
❛ the purpose of punishment is to improve those who punish ❜
❛ the sacrificial animal does not share the spectators’ ideas about sacrifice ❜
❛ our eyes are also intended for hearing ❜
❛ the mistrustful speak empathetically ❜
❛ how can one constantly admire without constantly feeling contempt? ❜
❛ is that not a blasphemy against your ideal? ❜
❛ in applause there is always a kind of noise ❜
❛ they are running away from people ❜
❛ one hears only those questions for which one is able to find answers ❜
❛ they know how to make things simpler than they are ❜
❛ this is by all means a matter of taste, nothing more ❜
❛ i’d sooner have people steal from me than be surrounded by scarecrows & hungry looks ❜
❛ thoughts are the shadows of our feelings ❜
❛ all voices sound different in solitude ❜
❛ who has had the most convincing eloquence so far? ❜
❛ i spoil the taste of their party for everyone ❜
❛ some people need open enemies ❜
❛ they are in a bad way ❜
❛ we are always only in our own company ❜
❛ in a moment they will be ready with a lie ❜
❛ in the end one finds more than one might have wished ❜
❛ why not be defeated some time too? ❜
❛ all is lost if we fall ❜
❛ you have no idea what you are living through ❜
❛ to have a virtue one must really wish to have it in its most brutal form ❜
❛ happiness is not nearly so contagious a disease ❜
❛ even one’s thoughts cannot reproduce entirely in words ❜
❛ there is no selflessness in my soul ❜
❛ you are beyond all embarrassment ❜
❛ i do not want to have people imitate my example ❜
❛ no victor believes in chance ❜
❛ what we do is never understood ❜
❛ those who have greatness are cruel to their virtues ❜
❛ with a great goal one is superior even to justice ❜
❛ you shall become the person you are ❜
❛ what do you love in others? ❜
❛ i still live, i still think ❜
❛ we were friends and have become estranged ❜
❛ few people have faith in themselves ❜
❛ there is yet another world to be discovered — and more than one ❜
❛ at the very bottom of my soul i feel grateful to all my misery ❜
❛ i have given a name to my pain ❜
❛ one must learn to love ❜

Every Other Weekend pt. 11

Prompt: After five years of marriage and two kids, you and Bucky decide you can’t make it work anymore.

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Reader, Steve Rogers x Reader

Word Count: 2348

Warnings: divorce, angst, cheating, language

A/N: well, strap in cos i got another part of this for you all. i am so so so sorry i have kept you all waiting. i hope this makes up for it. it’s a longer part so i hope that’s all right! just a small reminder that tagging is closed. HOWEVER, if you were on this list and changed your url, please let me know so i can update it.

Tagged: @all-around-geek @frolicsomefawkes @awwtommo @courtneychicken@lorenaheartsyou @irepeldirt @tardisin221bst@ok-ladies-lets-get-in-formation@elegantnightmareshiro @stomachfilledwithbutterflies @demongodess@buckyb-avengers @panda-reads-stuff @basse53

Part 10


Originally posted by sincerelysaraahh

“Yes.” You nodded in excitement, your hand holding tightly onto Bucky’s. His smile was so wide, it almost seemed unreal how happy he was.

“That’s…” Steve smiled a small smile and shook his head, you assumed in disbelief. “You guys are going to make great parents.”

“Thank you.” You grinned before placing a kiss on Bucky’s cheek.

“Have you told anyone else yet?” Steve’s eyes followed your every move and then focused down on your hand holding Bucky’s.

“Just my mom so far.” You stated.

“And now you, uncle Steve.” Bucky grinned, his hand leaving the grip of yours and landing on Steve’s shoulder. Bucky was overflowing with joy, but Steve… While he looked happy, you could tell there was something else lingering inside of him, something he wasn’t going to tell you. And it didn’t matter how hard you tried to pry it loose from his lips. So you let it go.

Keep reading

A Fight

You walked into the Batcave as always, holding a med-kit and excited to saw him after being separated for a few hours as always. You did everything as you always do with a happy smile on your face that would always bring him to smile even if he’s still in his cowl.

There you have it, your husbandwith a boy? That boy looks like him when he was little but the difference was he has a pair of beautiful emerald eyes.

“Hey, Bruce, a new guy I see?” You asked, walking towards them smile still on your face.

A smile that you didn’t know will fall when he opened his mouth to talk. But instead of him, it was the boy who opened his mouth.

“Damian Al-Ghul, you may call me Damian Wayne from now on.” He said politely.

But what he said next dropped your heart, shattering it to pieces.

“His blood-son, and you are?”

Your eyes widened, what was that supposed to mean? Did.. Did Bruce cheat on you? No, he would never do that… Wouldn’t he? He’s a playboy, after all, no he was a playboy he has you now. But he has that thing that will always make a girl swing and there is a lot of prettier girl outside. Your mind got clouded with every possibility you could think of, every ifs and but and it wasn’t a positive one either.

“I’m sorry?”

“You heard me, now answer my question.” The boy that you know his name is Damian demanded. You were trying to process what he said, what he told you.

“I - I’m his maid..” You mumbled trying to cover your wedding ring by hiding your hand behind your back, “…Yeah! I’m his maid! Nice to meet you, Master Damian.”

Lie. Wrong. You’re his wife, one and only. The one who he always cherished the most, the one who he always loved, the one who made him happy, the one who always there when he needed help. You’re his everything.

“You’re not my maid (Y/N).” Bruce chimed in, removing his cowl so you can see his face. “You’re--

“Then who the fuck am I, Bruce?!” You exclaimed cutting him off, your mind was clouded you couldn’t take it anymore. He cheated on you and brought his son to you, you always wanted one of your own but he said not now.

He said not now, it made you sad. But you pulled through and managed to say ‘Okay. I’ll wait until you’re ready.’ but now, he brought a boy and the boy is his son.

“You’re my wife for god sake!” He screamed at you, you flinched at his harsh tone but still stayed strong. Trying not to cry was hard but you knew you can’t just give up. “God just let me explain!” He continued not dropping his harsh tone, not even a bit.

You understood he was tired, you knew he needed to rest, you knew he has his reason. But you just couldn’t bear to hear it, you couldn’t bear to hear another word from him. The pain already got into your mind making it hard to think rationally.

“What do you want me to hear Bruce!?”

He walked towards you as soon as you finished talking, towering you. He used his intimidating stare towards you, but you still won’t move. No, you’re not scared.

“Just shut up! Stop being so sensitive and hear me out!” He blurted out without thinking.

That’s it, you broke down. But no tears were spilled nothing came out from your eyes, his words hurt you deeply. He never acts like this towards you no matter how mad he is. Bruce, on the other hand, seemed just realized what he has done to you.

“I’m sorry.” He apologized.

You shook your head, shoving the med-kit to him before turning around to leave the cave. He reached to grab your hand but you swiftly moved it away. You need to clear your head. You know you were wrong for not wanting to hear him out, but you also need this. You need to take a walk to cool your mind and your heart.

You bought a cup of hot cocoa, to help you clear your mind. Gotham was rather cold at night and you mentally scolded yourself for not bringing a coat since you were too caught up with your pain.

A sigh of relief left your lips as you took a sip of it, chocolate always calms you down. You sat down on a nearby bench, fiddling with your wedding ring.

“Should I go back and apologize?” You whispered to yourself, looking at the ring. Reaching your hand up as if you were about to grab the moon as the other held the cup.

Finally, a tear rolled down your cheek, then you cried your eyes out. Covering your mouth with a hand to muffle your sobs as you looked up to the night sky, it was beautiful a dozen of stars decorating the sky above you. You wanted to adore them but it just hurt so much. It hurts like a bitch, but you do realize it wasn’t his fault. If it was he would never bring his son back home to show you.

You made up your mind, you’ll come back home and talk this through like adults should. Before you could go far from your place a hand grabbed you, your cup fell and spilled all over the ground. The smell of alcohol filled up your nostrils, making you gag. You’ve never liked alcohol.

You turned around to see 3 thugs, they were wasted.

“What a pretty gal like you do at a beautiful night like this?” A guy said as the rest walked towards you to surround you.

“Oh did you cried? Did your boyfriend dumped you?” Another guy chimed in from your right.

“Let her go.” A gruff voice that you knew and love the most interrupted them before things go any further.

All of them looked towards your husband, instead of running for their pathetic lives they brought out a knife, the one that holds you pulled you closer and pointed the knife at you. Making you roll your eyes at them. Even though they couldn’t see it.

“If you move, she’ll die.” The thug said smugly. Ugh, he reeks of alcohol.

Your patience ran out, you elbowed his face and kicked him in the nuts emitting a scream of pain and agony left his filthy lips. He stumbled and fell onto the cold ground clutching his crotch.

“Bitch!” He cried out, you smacked his head onto the ground not too hard. But enough to make him pass out.

A grunt and groan were heard from behind you, then they stopped. Turning around only to see Batman standing between the unconscious thugs. Leaving you and him alone.

You stared at him and so did he, an awkward silence filled the air around you and him, you were just made up your mind to apologize. 'It wasn’t the time to chicken out!’ You mentally encouraged yourself.

“Bruce I” He cut you off by pulling you into his chest, covering you with his cape. He shook his head slowly.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.” He whispered into your ear in his regular voice.

“And I’m sorry. I should’ve listened to your explanation first before jumping into a conclusion.” You whispered back.

Realization hit you and him, laughing you pulled away from his hug hands still on his chest.

“I acted like a damn teenager.”

“And looks like one too.” He added, making you sent a playful glare at him.

“Let’s go back, you got a lot of explaining to do Batman.”

The In-Between Part 3

Summary:  This is a college!AU where Sam and the reader attend the same university.

Characters: AU!Dean x Reader, AU!Sam x Reader

Warnings: SMUT (oral, female receiving, unprotected sex), Angst, swearing

Word Count:  2795

A/N:  This is Part Three, you can find Part One HERE and Part Two HERE.  I loved going back to college so much that this became a trilogy.

Thank you to my lovely pal @wheresthekillswitch for being my MastaBeta on this one.

Italics are the end of Part Two.

The gifs in the body of the story are from Google Search, credit goes to their owners.

Originally posted by stetsonsalvatore


The next day you make your way through campus sipping your coffee.  It’s still warm and between the caffeine in your system and the sun on your skin, you’re tentatively excited about the fresh possibilities of a new semester.  You’re not over what happened, you’re not sure you ever will be, but you’re determined to keep positive.  You’re feeling pretty good about everything given the circumstances when you walk into the lecture room.  You scan the room looking for a good seat when your eyes catch view of a head above the rest.  Dimples are assaulting you from across the room, and they are not adorable.


You look away immediately, your hopeful mood now murderous.  You find the seat closest to the door and sit down, keeping your gaze to the front.  You’re sure the professor spoke, but you can recall nothing, the only evidence you were there is the syllabus in your hands.  As soon as class is released you dash for the door.  You’re hoping to make it through the quad before he can reach you.  Today is not your day however and when you’re halfway across you hear him call your name.

“Y/N!  Hey, Y/N, wait up.”

His large hand gently catches your arm just under one of the leafy trees dotting the grassy expanse.  Damn him and his long legs, you grumble to yourself.  You spin on him, your eyes shooting daggers, and he leans away from you taken aback.

“What do you want, Sam?”

“I just wanted to say hi and see how you are?”

“Hi and how am I?  Hmm, I don’t know?  Shitty.  I’m feeling pretty shitty, Sam.  How are you?” you ask, your voice dripping sarcasm.

Sam opens his mouth to speak then closes it again.

“Sorry, I just wanted to see you, the way we left things…” he trails off.

“Which time Sam?  The time we slept together while you conveniently forgot you had a girlfriend?  Or the time that you guilted my boyfriend into dumping me?”

His face flicks from ashamed to indignant and he pulls you nearer to the tree.

Keep reading

Meeting Harrison (Tom Holland Imagine)

Prompt: Could you do an imagine where Tom and the reader are friends and it develops into something more? Maybe Harrison like flirts with the reader or something, knowing it would make Tom jealous and ask her out. Thank you so much. I love your writing!

 Tom Holland x Reader, words: 848, requested?: yes warning: none

 A/N: thanks so much! I hope you like this!! Requests are open

After meeting Tom on the set of The Ellen Show, you became fast friends with him. You both were guests on the same day, and he had gushed about the tv show that you starred in. You were also a fan of his, you adored his acting skills and his commitment to his roles. You quickly exchanged numbers and talked constantly. Both of you had very hectic schedules, so it made meeting up almost impossible. But you made sure to text each other almost every day. You had flown a couple of times to see him and the other way around.

 You were constantly being teased by your best friend about spending so much time with Tom and constantly texting the boy. The two of you had been photographed together, and everyone was thinking the same thing: are they dating? The answer was no, but you wished the two of you were. You had so much in common, and you really enjoyed his company. You couldn’t lie; you thought Tom was the cutest boy you had ever met. You were always being asked about your relationship status from interviewers; you always told them the same thing each time. I’m very single.

As you were leaving the airport to meet up with Tom, paparazzi tried their best to get good pictures of you. Questions about Tom and why you were meeting in LA made you blush. You had tweeted about how excited you were to meet up with Tom, so everyone knew the two of you had plans. “We’re just friends,” you tried to reason with them. But it was no use. You just passed through and got into the car that was waiting for you. A smile spread across your face when you were finally free from the annoying chatter of your relationship status. “Hey, Tom,” you greeted your friend.

His smile matched yours as he carefully pulled away from the crowd. “Harrison is dying to meet you,” he explained. His eyes were on the road, but you could tell he wanted to look over at you. “I’ve told him all about you. All bad things, of course.”

“Now he’ll think I have no redeeming qualities,” you giggle. You knew better. You were excited to meet Harrison, you had heard so much about him, and you talked shit about Tom over twitter with him all the time. You couldn’t believe it had taken this long to meet the man behind the Twitter account. “Finally, we can talk shit about you face to face instead of over twitter.”

“Ha ha,” Tom stuck out his tongue but laughed anyways. “Better not let me hear you guys.”

“Will you attack us with your spider webs?”

“I just might!” You looked over at your friend and laughed at his stupid joke. Soon he was laughing along with you. You took in his features, your smile growing bigger as you did so. His curls were lying messily on his head, and you just wanted to run your hands through them. They looked so soft.

Soon, you were at the hotel Tom, and Harrison had been staying at. Tom took your bags before you could protest. “I won’t take no for an answer,” he argued. You would be crashing in the suite next to the two of them. You wouldn’t have minded being in the same room as the two of them, but your parents minded (even though you were an adult) and you knew social media would add their own twist to it if it got out. It was just easier to check into the room right next door even though you’d be spending most of your time next door. You checked into the front desk before following Tom to the elevator.

You chatted about nonsense before entering the hotel room. “Y/N!” Harrison greeted with a large smile. “Nice to finally meet you. Tom gushes about you all the time.”

“No, I don’t.” Tom’s face is bright red.

“Does he now?” you challenged with a grin. “I hope nothing too embarrassing.”

“Well,” Harrison grins. His eyes shift from the two of you, his grin turning into a smirk. “So many nice things. Makes me wanna ask you on a date.”

“NO!” Tom yells, causing you and Harrison to look at him. Your face is full of shock, but Harrison is smirking. “I mean…I-I…” His face is a bright red, and you think it’s adorable. He was so cute when he was flustered. “I…”

“Just ask her out already, mate! Jeez!”

“I-I…what! Harrison! I-I…” He covers his face with his hands. A blush creeps onto your face as you watch the scene unfold in front of you. You always wanted Tom to ask you out, but you weren’t prepared for this.

“I’ll go out with you,” you said. Which caused both boys to look at you, which made your blush deeper. Tom’s face was full of shock, but Harrison’s was just the biggest grin. “I mean if you want.”

“Y-yeah,” Tom stutters.

“I told you, man!” Harrison slaps his best friend on the back.

Date a girl that you haven’t actually seen sleep. Like you’ve slept in the same bed, but you always fall asleep before her. You always wake up and she’s already awake. One night you wake up and you swear you can hear whispering, you turn over to look at her, but it’s too dark to see. You say her name. The whispering stops.

The next morning she asks if you slept well. You answer yes. She asks why you’re lying, why you always lie. You don’t know how to answer… You have so many questions, but you have no idea where to even begin, you don’t know what you need answers for exactly. 

That night you have trouble getting to sleep. She begins to snore. You stretch your neck to see her face, but her eyes are open. Suddenly, they turn to you. A malicious smile spreads across her lips, short spasms of laughter softly fill the small space between you and her. You quickly reel back and pull the covers over your shoulder, barely breathing, barely moving. You don’t get any sleep, as you can hear her laughter softly continue.

The next day when you come home from work. She stands at the end of the hallway, the lights are off, but her eyes are shining against the light from the still open door. She doesn’t move her head, but her eyes follow you as you set down your bag. “What are you doing in the dark?” You ask. She doesn’t respond. 

anonymous asked:

Writing prompt: Neil and Andrew talking about touching and consent

ao3 link:

oK so i’m an absolute mess n i wasn’t sure how to take n this n i’m sleep deprived n it’s past midnight n i have a feeling this may be horrendous but it’s too late i’ve committed now

also this kinda became angsty?? but it get better i swear and i managed to avoid triggering shit so i guess there’s one achievement

Like most moments or conversations that hold even a sliver of significance, it starts on the roof. The autumn air is just cold enough to make skin hurt, just cold enough to be an anchor and remind them where they are, who they are, how things are - to stop them from sinking a little too deep into their own minds - and such sensation intermingled with that of each other’s presence is enough to leave Neil feeling so soft and safe he really can’t even try to suppress his smile as he shifts his body around to face Andrew, the crunch of gravel beneath him as he moves grounding him even more. He’s finally himself, finally able to smile at the notion of being completely himself, trying more and more to clutch tightly to that sense of self and it feels like flying, equally unequivocally freeing and undeniably terrifying.

 Andrew’s eyes on him contrast the cool air, the gaze burning into his cheek as his left index finger reaches towards the other side of Neil’s face, digging into the flesh of his cheek hard enough to redirect his line of sight to Andrew. Neil finds himself once again trying to suppress a smile at the fact even Andrew Minyard wants attention sometimes, no matter how unconventionally he gets it, but this line of thought gets halted in its tracks when he hears the words “Yes or no?”

“It’s always yes with you,” is Neil’s default answer at this point; it comes slipping out of his mouth like a reflex. It’s enough - Andrew leans closer to him, his hands slide up to cup Neil’s face, it’s all very slow and sensual and the sunset makes everything feel eight times more wondrous and they’re so close he can see the blonde tips of Andrew’s eyelashes and even they are getting blurrier and it’s good. It’s really, really good.

But they don’t kiss. Their lips brush against each other and it’s uncharacteristically soft and warm and Neil’s just about to start applying more pressure even if it is against his better judgement when Andrew mutters “Stop saying stupid shit.” against his mouth before pulling back, leaving Neil cold and confused. And ever-so-slightly irritated, even if he knows he shouldn’t be and a horrible guilty feeling arises in his stomach at such a thought.

“We’ve had this discussion before,” he says boldly, eyes trained on Andrew’s as the hands on his face slide down to either side of his neck. “It’s hardly my fault that you can’t accept the truth.”

“I’m not the one with issues with the truth.” Andrew replies flawlessly, his face falling into a blank expression and his voice clear and bored all over again and Neil’s irritated at such a sudden regain of self-control and the recollection of such a topic again.

“I told you I’d stop lying to you. I promised.”

“And yet here we are.” Andrew’s hands slip away from Neil’s skin and the cold feels even more biting now, on areas that had just been almost on fire. He shifts until his body is facing the edge of the roof again, legs hanging off the side, no longer looking at or even acknowledging Neil’s presence - an easy indicator that he’s trying not to feel something for Neil again (his guess this time is annoyance).

“I’m not lying to you.”

“You are.” Andrew’s eyes map the sky. “‘Always’ is a lie.”

“‘Always’ is a word,” Neil snaps back.

“Words have meanings, idiot.” Andrew says, and it’s as close to acknowledgement as Neil knows he’s going to get. “‘Always’ isn’t trustworthy.”

“Why?” Something somewhere inside of Neil already knows the answer to this question, he thinks, but it seems necessary to ask anyway. He’s not always the greatest at judgement, apparently.

“I don’t trust you to say no.” Andrew replies, and there it is. Cards on the table. And now Neil finds himself turning away, legs hanging off the side of the roof and body facing outwards, watching the sky instead of the indeterminable expression on Andrew’s face, because it’s too much. Looking at Andrew is too much. There’s a horrible feeling rooted somewhere inside him that he can’t quite place but it feels like it’s about to consume him and there’s a lump in his throat. He wants to ask for more - for an explanation, but the words “I don’t trust you” have successfully rendered him utterly speechless. He remembers that feeling of smug pride that had filled him when his words had been enough to render Andrew speechless, and the thought is good but at the same time bittersweet. He can’t help but hope Andrew isn’t feeling that same sense of achievement.

Andrew’s legs are kicking, he notices, and it’s almost a good sign. There are parts of Andrew he can read like a book at this point, and kicking his legs puts him off balance. Enhances his fear. Makes him feel something. Allows him to claim any feeling his revelation has conjured up to be fear. Andrew may be unapologetically honest, but Neil had long since learned that this rule applied to everyone except Andrew himself. It’s one of his greatest flaws - as much as he won’t admit it, he cannot accept certain truths about himself, so he tries to find other ways to explain things, to trick himself into thinking the way he wants to.

He’s also a man of few words, thus Neil expects the conversation to end there unless he can find his voice again and prompt him to continue. He knows for now that they’re stuck at a stalemate, both of them too stubborn and too exhausted to try and continue such a tedious and meaningful conversation, and eventually the silence becomes much too raucous for Neil’s liking. He goes inside.

The conversation isn’t brought up again until they go to bed. Andrew is already lying down with a book in his hand when Neil walks into the room, nose wrinkling momentarily to stop his glasses from sliding down his face, and that single movement is enough to make all of his frustration from the evening dissipate, until Andrew shifts backwards so his back is pressed firmly against the wall and he pulls the covers out in offering, his eyes never moving from the book. That single movement is enough for all of Neil’s confusion and probably misplaced annoyance to come hurtling back, and even though he accepts the olive branch and slides in next to Andrew, this time he can’t hold his tongue.

“If you don’t trust me to say no,” he starts, eyes trained on Andrew to search for a hint of acknowledgement, to no avail, “then how can you trust me to say yes?”

It’s probably harsh, he knows that, but it’s a thought that can’t leave his head and he’s never quite been able to master the art of tactful speech - his form of tact comes in silence instead, usually.

Andrew places the book down on his lap, closes his eyes and runs a hand through his hair and it’s the closest to a loss of control that Neil’s seen from him all day. His heart thumps a little louder.

“I don’t know if I can.” He replies, his tone not quite as even as he seems to have tried to make it, betraying the sense of resignation curled around the words. But it’s not enough - perhaps Neil is a junkie after all because he finds himself needing more, needing better, and he feels absolutely pathetic, but he says something anyway.

“But you have been.”

“It’s not that I don’t trust you,” Andrew’s response is so immediate that it startles Neil slightly. They’re facing each other now, lying parallel to each other and somewhere along the line Andrew’s taken one of Neil’s hands to play with his fingers and stare at, and Neil is finding it harder and harder not to get distracted. “But I do not know if I can trust you if I want to try something new.”

“Why?” Neil’s voice is softer now, hoarse and barely above a whisper, all frustration far gone.

“You have a martyr complex.” Neil opens his mouth to protest, but Andrew reaches the hand not currently occupied with his and places an index finger over his lips to shut him up. Neil kisses it without even thinking. “I do not trust you not to get too distracted by my progress. You think about my boundaries so much that I cannot trust you not to forget your own.”

Neil is holding Andrew’s hand to his mouth now, kissing his palm and sliding his own spare hand against it while Andrew’s other hand bends and stretches his fingers. For the first time that night Neil realises how intimate this is, how much trust every touch and every word possesses, and though he’s never quite forgot it, sometimes he doesn’t quite realise the extent of such a thing.

“I’ve never heard you say no.” Andrew finishes with, and Neil knows the hidden meaning behind that. ‘I need you to be able to say no.’

“I’ve never needed to,” he replies, kissing the tips of each of Andrew’s fingers, because it’s the truth and he knows that what Andrew needs is reassurance and honesty, so that’s what he’ll give him.

“Let’s make a new deal.” Neil finally suggests, and this, this, is enough to make Andrew’s gaze finally shift to his face again. And it’s good, feeling the glare of hazel eyes silently encouraging him to continue. “I promise to always say no when I need to, no matter what we’re doing. And in return, you can promise to always respect that no,” he states, quickly adding on the end: “not that I don’t trust you not to respect that no anyway but you’re the best person I know at keeping promises.”

He knows he’s said something right when Andrew’s face stops looking bored. There’s still no determinable expression etched into his features, but it’s no longer stuck in such a tight leash, instead appearing calmer and yet angrier all at once.

“I hate you.” Comes the reply, solid and reassuring as ever. “167%.”

“Is that a deal?” Neil simply asks, pulling on both of his hands so that he can hold both of his and Andrew’s close to his chest, a ghost of a smile hanging off the corner of his lips.

“Deal.” Andrew responds, leaning instantly forward and kissing Neil like he’s stuck in a desert and Neil is an oasis - everything he wants and everything he can’t have. Everything he doesn’t want to want. A pipe-dream.

send me your aftg prompts!!!

anonymous asked:

I know you are happy for the Klaroline endgame but don't think that it is sad that Caroline was the only vampire left? She will live for ever or at least get to live for a more extended time than humans do and she will see everyone she loves die. It has already started. Her father, her mother, her husband. She will outline her children too. How is that a good end for her?

How is it not?

Let me start by saying that despite JP’s obsession for turning TVD into a human soap this show was originally based into the vampire mythology. It is meant to deal with vampires and their existence. The pros and the cons and the darkness and the grandeur and the immortality. Ships and endgames aside Caroline Forbes ending up the only vampire in a show that is meant to be based on the vampire genre is an honor and a homage to everything this show once stood for. Every vampire of the show faced the same destiny you describe here. Damon, Stefan, Katherine, the Originals. And yet when their stories began and they were introduced to the audience everyone took in their story expecting to feel their age and get to know their ageless journey throughout the centuries. No one complained about their predicament. Everyone wanted to get more into it. Either their story was tragic, or intriguing, or dark, or hopeful. It was interesting because the very concept of immortality is an unachievable dream that intrigues humans. So many writers get to write for Vampires, Demons, Gods, Immortals, etc. Because their stories are enveloping every hope and aspiration and tragedy and epic emotion a human can have and dream of. The unreachable. The impossible. Even something to sent the human soul straight to damnation. All those elements hide greatness and misery in them. And Caroline Forbes was meant to endure and persevere and become a Vampire. She relished in her nature. She owned it. She accepted it and craved the perks that come with vampirism. She would not turn to a human if she had the chance. She never wanted or expressed that wish. For the simple reason that she likes been strong, ageless, fearless and she prefers who she is not to the girl she used to be.

On the other hand everything you describe in your ask are things that can happen in a human life too. So what happens then? You give up? You curse your life? You find no meaning to it? A person can outline others and can outlive even love and memories and things he or she never thought possible. Calamities and tragedy are part of life either that life is meant to carry on for a few decades or longer or less. It is what we do with our time and how we face the things that happen to us that make life worth it. It is even how we stand in the face of loss and loniliness. How we grieve. How we move on. How we hope. How we persevere and if there was one motto that Caroline Forbes ever had in that show was perseverance.

That does not take away the importance of the things you write in the ask. If anything they give more meaning to Caroline’s existence because facing these losses will make her live every day to the fullest. Will make her wiser. Will make her not lose track of time. Will make life have meaning.

Do you know who else also contemplated the very same thing you ask me here? How eternity would have no meaning? How it would suck? How it would be a source of depression. How it would take away and take away and leave no meaning?

Caroline Forbes did. In her birthday in season 3.

So much so that she did not want to celebrate her birthday and ended up giving a funeral to the human girl she buried behind.

And do you remember who exactly showed her that very same day that while life takes something from you it gives you something else back? That there is meaning to found in forever. Because truth is that loss will come and you contemplate giving up.

“ And I could let you… die. If that`s what you want. If you really believe your existence has no meaning.

I`ve thought about it myself once or twice over the centuries, truth be told.

And let us face it. Who doesn’t think of that in their lives? In our human lives fantasy aside have we never thought of that very same question? Of how to endure with loss? Of how to go on? Of how we can outlast the pain and not break? How to hold on to people that leave us behind or we lose them by death or any other reason? There is always a time even for the most optimistic people where they think that life has no meaning or ask themselves what is the meaning of it all.

So here Caroline’s immortality is a parallel to what we face in real life because art in its own way tries to give answers to such questions.

So what is the meaning of it all? How could Caroline ever move on and why should she want to? Why would that be good for her?

Because with the loss there is also the gain. Because life is not black or white. It has endless colors and twists.

Imagine that. Let it sink in. Life does not end with loss or with pain. This is why we are alive after all. There is whole world is out there still waiting. Genuine beauty. And music. And art. And more birthdays. More chances. More dreams. More potential. More possibilities.

A thousand more birthdays.

Because life does not end with loss and misfortune. You do not get to sacrifice your life in the name of loss or lost love or broken dreams. Life moves on. With endless possibilities ahead. With optimism. You grit your teeth and you move on until you can smile again. Life continues with pain and loss and tragedy and laughter and love and joy. Because every turn gives you something and it is in your hand to take that something and make something out of it. Something for you. And this is why people still dream of immortality and want to live longer and crave stories of ageless creatures. And admire those tragically and gloriously beautiful stories. Because life goes on and is full of wonder. And people can only wish to be able to be bigger than life. With everything that includes.

Time is unrelenting and brings change and with it society and culture and life itself alters and people want to be there to see it. To experience it. To live it. Because people reading history and get fascinated by it and then dream of the future. And Caroline Forbes will be there to live all that. Maybe she will outlive some people and maybe she will carry their memories with her but she won’t outlive everyone. Because she will get to meet more people. She has endless possibilities ahead. To love again. To laugh again. To be an extrovert. To be an introvert. To find more questions and answers. Endless horizons ahead and this is why Klaroline and the idea of a vampire Caroline Forbes was always so alluring to begin with and enchanted so many people. Because it held the promise of eternal. The promise of however long it takes. The promise of genuine beauty. Because it was brilliant and ugly and the truth and the lie and it was about brutal honesty and manipulation and rage and soothing silence and it was challenging and unpredictable. Just life is.

And how important is to actually be able to grasp that? And by that I mean life. To have nothing more to do than ask? Because this is what life is. It is your choice. It is as good as you let it. Because you need to want to live it. You need to want to ask. All you have to do is ask. And then take it step by step. Let me say it again. Life does not end with loss or grief. Emotion is not finite. Relationships come and go. Love can be replenished or be found in so many places even unexpected ones. Hope does not end. Meaning is always in different things all the time if you only open your eyes. Pain does not last forever no matter how cruel and unforgiving it seems at first. You fight back and you live. And all you have to do is ask.

And this is one of the many reasons why I personally like Klaroline so much and why their endgame was so important for me. Because of this very message that you sent me. Because Klaroline began with the very same core of question you put in that ask. Their very first defining scene was about what you ask me here and it answers your question perfectly. And that was why I was so moved by Klaroline chemistry and potential aside. Because of the promise of endurance. Because it was a promise of how Caroline could live and become greater than life and …loss. This is how it all began. And this is how Caroline will move on because this has been her origin story and not the end. It is only the beginning. But that is the beginning of another story.

So you tell me anon? How is that good for Caroline? Or for anyone for that matter? How is it good for anyone to actually live their life? To find meaning in that kind of existence?

Maybe simply by living. And that is a good thing.

4.5/5 Stars.

“You have to ask yourself, from the beginning, what do you think you know?”

Wow. I’m in awe of this book. It’s ceaselessly enthralling from the opening sentence, like a puzzle that demands to be solved despite your knowing, deep down, that it’s not going to be pretty. There’s a relentless sense of foreboding throughout the entire thing. Something is wrong—but what? Who is predator, and who is prey?

Linda, our unreliable narrator, is a strange, isolated high school student living in rural Minnesota. There are lots of heavy things happening around her, like, for example, her history teacher getting arrested for child pornography. When a mysterious couple with a young boy moves into the cabin across the lake, Linda becomes the boy’s designated babysitter, spending every afternoon with him and developing a sense of kinship and belonging with his young mother.

We get the sense early on that something bad is going to happen, but we don’t know what. Fridlund takes her time with the reveal(s), but the pacing is never frustrating.

The narration jumps around in time without warning, and the effect is deliberately disorienting. It makes sense for a story as obscure and peculiar as this one though. There are breaches between action and thought, guilt and innocence, trust and doubt, predator and prey—and what dwells in those gray areas isn’t always clear, even upon years of reflection.

At one point, as an adult, Linda wonders, “What’s the difference between what you want to believe and what you do? … And what’s the difference between what you think and what you end up doing?”

These questions lie at the heart of this exquisite novel, and there are no easy answers.

This is such a brilliant, thought-provoking, uncomfortable, deeply layered book. Fridlund writes with precision and purpose, delivering a dark, gorgeous, beguiling debut. I’ll be recommending this one to everyone.

Make Me Cry

Originally posted by hartshoney

Pairing: Clay Jensen x Reader

Request: “39 – Clay Jensen”


39. “I’m just tired.”

Word count: 1.576

Posted: 21st of May 2017

A/N: Another Clay imagine! I hope that you are liking my imagines and I hope that you keep on supporting me. I am trying to write as many imagines as I could since I’m having my training period next week. Updating might be slow, because I will be working and I won’t have my laptop with me. I will do my best to write every request and, hopefully, I can post them soon. I hope you understand, thank you.

P.S.: I am not accepting any part 2 requests for my prompt imagines, sorry.

- G. x

Link: Prompt list

Warning: betraying, a little bit of angst and swearing

“Clay.” You mumbled as you let yourself fall on the ground for what you’ve just seen. Your heart broke and your world fell apart as you heard Jessica’s bedroom door slamming in front of you. “Hannah.”

You wanted to move, but it seemed like someone was stopping you to do so. You wanted to cry, but tears wouldn’t stream down you face. You wanted to shout, but it seemed like your voice was taken away.

You were in one of those parties that Jessica organized because the school was almost starting and she invited the whole school to celebrate the last days of summer together. In fact, the house was too crowded and people were having fun, except you.

You weakly went downstairs emotionlessly as the happening was slowly sinking in your mind. You slowly walked, one foot in front of the other as you tried to protect yourself from people’s sweaty bodies. Everything was in slow-motion as you dealt with the images of Clay, your actual boyfriend, and Hannah kissing. You couldn’t accept it, you just couldn’t.

The only things that brought you back into the reality were the loud beats of some techno songs and the smell of the disgusting mix of drugs, alcohol and cigarettes in the air.

“Are you okay, (Y/N)?” Your brother Jeff asked as he noticed you in the middle of the drunken crowd. He grabbed your hand and pulled you near him so he could have the chance to talk to you properly.

“I…” You started to talk and the tears finally found their way out. Jeff hugged you tightly as he gave you the chance to let your resentments out. “Clay.”

Your vision was blurry as you remembered how Clay behaved with you in these past few weeks, he was strange and detached from you. You thought that he just needed some time to breathe before the classes resumed, but now you noticed that he needed that time to spend it with Hannah, one of your close friends. You were blinded by his love and by her friendship, that you didn’t see the hole in your almost perfect relationships with them.

“Let’s go outside, okay?” Jeff rubbed your back and as you wet Jeff’s brown shirt with your hot streaming tears, you tortured yourself as you remembered every scene where Clay acted in that way.

“What’s the matter, Clay?” You worriedly asked your boyfriend when you noticed that he was staring blankly at the ceiling of your room. You were talking about your plans during your holidays together, but he didn’t seem so interested about it.

“It’s nothing, Babe. Maybe I worked too much earlier.” Clay responded, quickly looking at you. He was afraid to make you feel unimportant, but that was how Clay socialize with people.

“Are you sure?” You raised your eyebrow and you really started to worry for Clay’s behaviour. He was silent and overthinking.

“Yes, love,” Clay assured you once again. “I’m just tired.” He shortly answered.

“Do you want to go home now?” You asked as you took his arms off around your waist. You sat up from the bed and you observed Clay’s face. He somehow felt relieved to see that you weren’t angry at all.

“May I?” Clay sat back up too and he looked straight in your eyes to find the answer, fidgeting with your fresh, thin and candid blanket. He knew you well and he would know if you were lying or not.

“Yup, don’t worry.” You thought of his well-being first, instead of making a scene. You thought that maybe there was really too much work at Crestmont’s during his duty.

“See you tomorrow, okay?” He quickly stood up from the bed as he grabbed his sweater from your study table. You were shocked because his energy suddenly increased and your doubts suddenly penetrated your confused brain.

“Take care.” You reminded him as he headed to your bedroom door. He was in a hurry as if he needed to meet someone else. You knew Clay so much and he never wanted to arrive late when he needed to meet someone. “I love you, Clay.” You said as you shook your doubts off, fighting between you and your brain as you defended Clay’s actions.

“Oh, I love you too.” He responded back as he walked back to you and he gave you a quick kiss on your temple. “Bye.” He ran out of the room as he almost stumbled while going downstairs.

It was surely not Clay, because he would never forget to greet you well before leaving, so you followed him downstairs, but as soon as you opened your front door, you could barely see an animated soul in the street.

The humid and hot summer air hit your face as your tears scorched your already red burning cheeks, your still-sober-brother guiding you slowly and watching your steps carefully. You’ve just realized that he was stumbling down because he couldn’t wait to see Hannah that day. You assumed that the change in his behaviour was because of Hannah and you couldn’t help but hate them both, nevertheless hate was a really big and horrible word.

“What happened, (Y/N)?” Alex, your best friend, curiously asked with his furrowed eyebrows as he saw you and your brother. Your vision was blurry as you sobbed very loudly, catching the people’s attention easily. Alex’s comfort made it difficult to cope with the situation that you were already in.

“Fuck Jensen!” You spat as you felt Alex’s arms around your weak body. He was trying to cheer you up, because he knew that your relationship with Clay wasn’t that healthy in the past few days. You confided him your doubts and perplexity about Clay’s action and he was always by your side to listen.

“Clay!” You heard your brother calling your boyfriend and anger quickly sank in your body. You suddenly felt a weight in your chest as you felt betrayed, cheated on and have been made a fool of. “Where were you?”

“Uh,” His eyes started to wander around the surroundings of Jessica’s garden, trying to think of a good and coherent excuse. He fidgeted with the hem of his shirt too, just like what he did with your blankets that night. You already knew his actions, he’s always done it whenever he would lie to you or to people. “What the fuck, (Y/N) and Alex?” Clay exclaimed as his gaze caught yours, seeing the position that you were in, together with Alex. Your anger increased as he totally ignored your endless tears, not caring of what you were feeling.

“What the hell, Jensen?” You carefully pushed Alex’s arms off you and you walked towards your boyfriend. “Answer Jeff’s question: where were you?” Hot and endless tears still ran through your face as you bravely faced up the situation.

“I…” Clay tried to answer but no words came out from his mouth. He was speechless, because he didn’t know what excuse to invent. He was shocked, although he didn’t show it, because he was accidentally caught in the scene.

“I hate you, Jensen!” You angrily said, spitting the venom in your mouth. “I fucking hate you, traitor!” You didn’t want to do it, but someone or something, probably the anger, has ordered your right hand to slap Clay on his cheek as hard as you could.

“(Y/N), what has happened?” Jeff curiously asked as he separated you from Clay, avoiding his close friend to get hurt once again. Alex grabbed you and he tried to calm you down with his touch.

“You fucking ask him, Jeff! You fucking ask him.” You thrusted Alex’s hand off your arm harshly and you started to run away from them, trying to escape from the horrible situation that you were in. The situation hit you as if it was a truck and it broke every inch of you, not just your heart, but also your mind and your soul.

“(Y/N)!” Clay called you as he tried to stop you from running, still bearing with the painful slap that you gave him. He wanted to explain, even though he knew that it would be useless.

“Just go and kiss Hannah once again, it seemed like you had fun in that room.” You shouted back and you saw your brother’s aura became black as soon as he understood the situation. He was wrapped in anger, because Clay hurt you and he promised that he would never do it. “You did nothing but to make me cry in these disgusting days. I hope you are happy now.”

You stood there as you observed the most important boys in your life from afar. You cried as you bear with your broken heart. “Jensen, I am giving up this time.”

“(Y/N), please listen to me first!” Clay followed you and grabbed your hand.

“No, Clay,” You shook your head as you wiped your tears with the back of your hand. “because all you ever did when I needed you the most was to make me cry.”

He broke you and you couldn’t stand to hear his dirty lies anymore. You never hated him like you did that night and you thought that it was finally the time that you gave yourself a value and some respect. You needed to give him up, because Clay couldn’t keep on making you cry, nevertheless the powerful and strong love that you felt for him.

There was a student, they called themself wolf. They wore rings of iron, silver, and gold. Around their neck, protective stones lie, and in their bag, a pouch of dice hide. Wolf was known for their magic, their skill with their cards, they made your​ plants grow, but what few know, wolf wasn’t all human, in some little bit, they were fair folk, but never said it. Wolf would walk without fear, they protected themself. For those who would ask, a future, they’d tell. But only the likely, and never too close. You could ask them questions, whatever you’d like. They’d always answer, but sometimes, for a price. The questions with Fae came at highest cost, something of your past, forgotten once lost. They carried trinkets, things with high worth, a statue, given by a friend long past, sand from a beach they hope to go back. Things that could bargain, for better or worse, but wolf never bartered, far better than most. They never resorted to library corners, though sometimes they’d stray slightly out of their borders. Some say they still see wolf, alone in the halls. Some say they can hear their old syrin call. If you ever need knowledge of what lies in store, you’ll find yourself back at wolf’s old door. Knock three times slowly, then another two fast. Bring something to offer, something that will last. Wolf favors the stones, the shells, and the sands, but flowers work, if given by hand. Place the offer in front of the door once you knock, then pick the cards out through the slot. In a voice, like a whisper, you’ll learn what you wish. But never tell anyone what you witness.