the way it turns its head to see if anyone is near by

The Reader and the Writer (Part 2)

Originally posted by stydiaislove

Part one here

Anon requests: can you please do a part two of “The reader and the writer”? i’m shook, lost and now stressed over who she really is

The Reader and the Writer is amazingggg! Are u gonna do a part 2?? I wanna read more!!

could you do a part 2 of the reader and the writer, i’m obsessed!!!

Is there going to be a part 2 for The Reader and the Writer? Can there be a part 2? I loved it by the way :)

PART TWO OF THE READER AND THE WRITER PLEASE OMFG

Omigod, I love your Reader and Writer imagine soooooo much, are you going to write a part two??

OK PLEASE WRITE A PART TWO TO THE READER AND THE WRITER IS WAS SO GOOD!

Wtf?!? The reader and the writer is honestly amazing! I love it 😍 2pt maybe? I wanna know what happens with the reader and Jason

I love love love the reader and the writer, if you aren’t too busy could you please update it with a second part soon? I can’t bear to be left for days without knowing what Jughead found 😂 thanks x

Will there be a part 2 of “the reader and the writer”? Its really good! I hope you will write more of it!

I love this new jughead imagine ! Are you writing a part 2 ?

OH MY GOD PART 2 ASAP

I really love your writing! I’m very excited about part 2 for the Reader and the writer

part 2 of “The Reader and the Writer” ?? it’s greattt 😭

please do a part 2 of the reader and the writer!@@@ I need more!

Can you please do part two or the reader and writer?!?! It is so good!!

The reader and the writer was amazing and i got too attached. Part 2 please if you don’t mind.

Pairing: Jughead x Reader

Description: A confrontation ensues between the reader and the writer

Warnings: none

Word count: 887

A/N: I’m glad you guys liked the first part so much! Enjoy part 2!


(Y/N) didn’t return to Pop’s.  Every night, Jughead sat in his normal booth typing on his computer, but his eyes constantly flicked up towards the entrance.  His friends noticed his shift in attitude.

“Jug,” Archie sat across from him, “you gotta snap out of this.”

“Out of what?” Jughead asked monotonously, rolling his eyes.  “I’m fine, Archie.”

“I know you like to sit here and brood all mysteriously,” Veronica interjected, “but this is sad. Just call (Y/N).”

“(Y/N)?” he scoffed.  “This isn’t about (Y/N).”  When the entire table sent him disbelieving looks, he sighed and looked out the window.  “I already called her.”

“How many times?” Kevin asked with a smirk.  Jughead sighed again, refusing to make eye contact with anyone.

“Every night.” Archie, Betty, Veronica, and Kevin all shared a knowing glance.  “I know what you guys are thinking and no, it’s not like that.  I’m not some pathetically smitten person, okay?”

“Okay, Jughead,” Betty said, but rolled her eyes.  “If you insist.”


To say (Y/N) felt guilty would be an understatement.  From the moment she stomped out of that diner, regret gnawed at her inside out. Without the consistency of her nightly stops in Pop’s, she didn’t know what to do with herself.  She spent every night after school in her room sulking. Every night, her phone rang, lighting up with Jughead’s name.  She was tempted to answer it every night, her finger hovering over the answer button, but then she turned away and ignored his call.  (Y/N) missed Pop’s: she missed the delicious foods, the quiet yet comforting atmosphere, and the person who sat across from her in their usual booth.  


One day, Jughead sat with an uneaten burger in front of him, laptop closed.  Today had been an especially slow day, both in Jughead’s mind and Pop’s.  Suddenly, a jingle of the bell signaled that someone new entered the diner.  Jughead sat up a bit to see who it was.  When he identified the new customer, he perked up immediately.  Grabbing a book, he shot up and walked over to the table where she had just sat down.

“(Y/N) (Y/L/N),” he said, slamming down the book in front of her, “is an author from the 18th century.  She wrote four novels, all of them published under an alias at first.  It was not until two hundred years later that the true author was discovered.  She has been dead for over two hundred years, and she is most certainly not you.”  (Y/N) looked up at him with wide eyes.

“What, I can’t have the same name as someone else?” she fired back, but there was a waver in her voice. Jughead glared as he sat down across from her.

“You see, I would think that, too,” Jughead responded, his voice dripping with sarcasm, “but I searched for you online, and I couldn’t find anything on you.  Not one thing.”

“I like to keep my life private.  I don’t publish stuff about me online.”

“Yeah, but there’s something about everyone on the world wide web if you look hard enough,” Jughead explained, his voice accusingly sharp.  “Now I have two theories: one, you’re a very experienced hacker, and you’ve gone and wiped all information regarding you off the internet; or two, you’re hiding something, and you’re using a dead unpopular author’s name to keep your real identity a secret.  Personally, I’m choosing the latter, considering how well-read you are.”  (Y/N) stared at Jughead with sad, wide eyes.  “When were you going to tell me?”

“I wasn’t,” she whispered. Jughead clenched his jaw and shook his head.  

“Whatever,” he mumbled, standing up.  He began to walk away when (Y/N) shot up from her seat.

“I was born in Riverdale,” she called out to him.  Jughead stopped in his tracks and slowly turned around.

“What?”

“I was born in Riverdale,” she repeated slower.  Jughead neared the table and sat down across from (Y/N).

“So what?”

“So I-,” she started, “I can’t- I can’t just tell you everything.”  Jughead rolled his eyes and began to push his chair out when (Y/N) placed her hand on his, her eyes silently begging him to stay.  “If you care, you’ll trust me.”

“What makes you think I care?” Jughead demanded, and (Y/N) couldn’t help but notice how he didn’t move his hands out from under hers.

“Because you called?” she offered, causing Jughead to sit up a little straighter.  “You called me every night, Jug.”

“I was worried,” he muttered, looking away.  (Y/N) smiled, patted his hand, and stood up.

“Keep writing, Jughead. See you around.”  Spinning on her heel, (Y/N) grabbed her copy of The Picture of Dorian Gray and exited the diner.  Jughead’s eyes followed her figure out until the door closed behind her.  Then he pulled out his laptop and started to furiously type.

And so, a little light shined on the dark mystery of Riverdale’s (Y/N) (Y/L/N) like the calm before the storm.  The writer becomes the reader, the reader becomes the read.  I found myself hooked on her just from a little information, like a drug addict craving his fix.  New girls can never hide in a small town like Riverdale, but God, I knew (Y/N), in all her enigmatic splendor, would lurk in the shadows of this town for as long as she possibly could.”

Part 3 here   Part 4 here

anonymous asked:

AU where Bitty and Jack both suddenly wake up, after having had a few years together, and find themselves in their beds on the morning of the day they met. Both remember everything that happened, but neither thinks the other does, so they both pretend not to remember (which only complicates things more). They end up reenacting a lot of their interactions and it kills them both to do things they know hurt the other but they don't want to change anything.

oh no buddy, I’m not gonna let this stay sad. I’m gonna draw attention to several sad things, but then I’m gonna fix it.

******************

Bitty wakes up on his first day of freshman year. Again. He quickly decides that he can’t say anything to anyone. There was no way to prove that the life he had just been living was anything but a dream.

He goes through the motions as well as he can remember. If he lingers a little on the handshake when he ‘meets’ Jack again, well, who could notice a thing like that?

Jack wakes up in the Haus. He mirrors Bitty’s mental process, realizing that if he started talking about this he could lose the future he knows is on its way. He searches Bittle’s face for recognition, but is too afraid to say anything.

Jack takes a deep breath every day and snaps at Bittle, pushing every pet name out of his mind. Bitty forces himself to forget and relearn how to take a check. On the rink together for checking practice, neither can think of any way to ask if they’re going through the same thing. They both cry more than they did the first time around.

Sometimes Bitty just gets angry at having to repeat things. He tries as hard as he can to not mess the repetitions up, but he isn’t perfect. When Ransom and Holster start asking him what his type is, he rolls his eyes and replies “Men.” As soon as he’s said it he remembers that he had only said that later to his camera, but the damage doesn’t seem to be too great. Jack doesn’t seem to react to the change, adding to his mental list of evidence that everything else had just been a dream. He gets the list of eligible Winter Screw options a few days earlier, but everything settles back to what it had been within a week. Whenever he starts thinking about the next few years, he’s enraged about everything he’s going to have to sit back and let happen. Everything that was going to make Jack sad, and that he wouldn’t be able to fix. Everything that was going to hurt him that he couldn’t avoid. 

Jack wakes up every day and writes up a game plan. It’s hard to have to turn back years of learning and be worse as a captain, especially when he remembers every mistake he made in every lost game. So he writes down those mistakes as a reminder to himself to make them. Half of the mistakes are emotional, and that’s what really gets him. He’s forced to act like those years of growing as a person never happened, like they were worthless. He hates trying to make himself glare at Bittle when they’re on the same line, he hates telling him that it was a lucky shot, he hates being so close to his boyfriend except for the fact that he isn’t his boyfriend yet.

Then it’s the playoffs. Bitty steels himself all week for the concussion he knows is coming. It crosses his mind to try to avoid it, to spare himself the pain and potential brain damage. But he remembers that it was only after the concussion that Jack started texting him, and they really got close. He knows that if he went against the play he knew Jack was going to suggest, he’d only drive them apart. Besides, it hadn’t been that bad the first time.

Jack is confident he can find another reason to text Bittle over the summer. He’s thought about this for the whole school year. Whatever consequences could come from not seeing Bitty hurt like that would be worth it. He just has to convince the coaches to not put Bitty in at the wrong time. 

“Oh my god, I thought we got over this months ago,” Bitty mutters to himself. He doesn’t remember Jack getting so annoyed about playing with him during this game, but he’s at a point where everything has run together in his mind. 

“Jack, I’ll be fine,” he half-lies. He will, eventually. There’s something close to panic in Jack’s eyes. Weird, Jack had taken so long the first time around to show any tiny sign of weakness.

“Promise me you’ll avoid number three.” This is definitely different from before. Bitty stares at Jack. “Spencer, number three, don’t go near him when he’s on their side of the rink. Promise me, Bits.”

“You didn’t even call me Bitty at this point,” he says in shock. They stare at each other for a minute, eyes wide. 

“I won’t get the concussion this time and we’ll talk about this after the game,” Bitty blurts out. Jack nods vigorously. They play, and it’s brutal, but Bitty avoids the hip check. Once the game is over, they rush to get seats together in the bus. In whispers, they talk about the future they already had. Bitty mourned the years of school he had ahead of him that he had already completed. Jack complained about having to rewalk a long path to the Stanley Cup. They talked about teammates who felt like family but would still know them as strangers. Graduation, the Fourth of July they spent in Madison, their first Christmas together. Every important milestone of their relationship.

“And in this loop or timeline or whatever, we haven’t even kissed!” Bitty whispers, letting his head thunk back against the headrest. “I was at the point where I was out of college, happy with my career, and hiding a ring from you!”

“You weren’t!” Jack says out loud before dropping back into a whisper. “I was doing the same thing.” They both start laughing. It’s the perfect time to have a second first kiss. They lean in towards each other, their lips meet, and–

–They’re back in their apartment. Bitty sits bolt upright in their bed and turns to Jack. For a fleeting second, he thinks about pretending the last several months just didn’t happen. Jack sits up too, and their eyes meet.

“Did that just–”

“Your frog year take two–” They dissolve into relieved laughter.

“I thought I was going to have to take calc again!”

“I thought I was going to have to listen to you complain about calc again,” Jack says before Bitty smacks him with a pillow. “Kidding! Kind of! Wait, weren’t we just saying that we wanted to propose to each other?” He throws himself out of bed and runs to start rummaging through various coat pockets.

“Oh no, you’re not going to propose to me before I can propose to you!” 

Everything is as it should be once more.

Inspired by THIS POST about gay Disney Princesses. 


When the old beggar comes to the door, Addy knows better than to let her in. She doesn’t look at the rose or the woman too long; she shuts the door.

Some will call her arrogant or selfish, but what is she to do? No guards, parents in the capital (not, here, not here), and the knowledge that she is the damsel in all those fairy tales weighs heavily on her mind. Oh, little princess, far from home and alone, so alone.

The Enchantress (for they do not call her witch) makes sure that she stays that way.

Alone except for her wilting rose.

(She did not want it, would not take it, so she was bound to it. Such is the way of Princesses.)

———————————-

Addy used to have frightful bursts of temper. Her face would turn red, fat tears rolling down her cheeks, mouth screwed into an upside down kidney bean. Anything could set her off; a too tight corset, a walk ended too quickly, another toy sword taken away. She’d wail and scream, kick her feet and punch the air, tear and rend anything within arm’s reach.

The first time she has a fit in her new form, it’s after Mrs. Potts reads the King and Queen’s decision on her…condition. She’s to stay here, on the outskirts of their kingdom, until a Prince comes to release her from her spell. Alone until a different sort of bond is forced on her, until she is made to change from princess to beast to bride.

Addy know why they refuse to save her. It’s because she’s always been too big, too strong, too ill-tempered, too–

In her rage, Addy upends the tea tray, forgetting, forgetting, forgetting.

She is reminded when fine china falls to the hard ground, when it rattles, when it shatters, when it screams.

“No!” Addy falls to her knees next to her dishes– no, her friends and frantically rights them, apologies tumbling from her lips, eyes brimming with tears.

“Temper,” Mrs. Potts murmurs, more out of reflex than anything, looking obviously terrified. She hops from her side to her base, better able to control her new body than any other castle resident. Her lid is sitting askew and her eyes are wide (so wide) as they dart from one cup to another. “Daniel? Daniel!”

Addy cuts herself on broken porcelain and flinches. She–she’d killed him, she’d been so thoughtless, how could she? “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry–”

“I’m okay,” a little voice says. “I’m okay, Mom!”

 Addy sobs as she locates him under the silver platter, on his side, trapped. She throws the platter too hard, lodging it in the wall, and takes Daniel in her paws.  

“It’s okay, Princess Addy,” Daniel chirps at her. He’s a little older than her, just a few years, and he’s always trying to be strong. His eyes are wide (too wide), but he offers her a tremulous smile. “I’m okay.”

“Thank goodness,” Mrs. Potts says and her china clinks as she hops forward. 

Addy’s eyes lock on the horrible, huge chip in his rim. 

I did that.

She’s across the room before being aware of setting Daniel down, of standing, of leaping away.

“Princess,” Mrs. Potts says from her low, low position on the floor. “What–”

“Don’t call me that,” Addy grits out. Her huge body leans heavily against the door, making it groan, as she desperately tries to wrap her paw around the handle. She can’t stop looking at the chip, the proof of harm, the proof that something much worse can happen so easily. “Don’t call me– I’m not–I’m not the Princess. I’m the Beast.”

The door crashes open and she disappears.

————————————————

It’s weeks before the servants realize that she’s never going to answer to her name again. She no longer sleeps in her princess bed or attempts to wear her princess clothes. She wears pants scavenged from the servants’ quarters, tunics from her father’s closet, ties her mane back with twine instead of ornaments.

“Addy!” they call. “Princess Addy!”

The Beast doesn’t even know who that is.

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Body Heat

Request: Can you write a Sirius Black x Reader but the reader is James’ sister and Sirius tries to flirt with the reader and James is all like are you flirting with my sister and Sirius fires back or something?
Warning(s): Bar scenes, drinking, swearing, intense hugging(?), major Sirius feels. Honestly, just look at the title.
Note: This is my first Marauders’ imagine, so feedback is appreciated.

⇢  A Sirius Black x Reader work where the reader is James’ younger twin sister.


Most brothers preferred to keep their social life separate from their siblings’. James Potter was no exception. Which is why, when Lily and Marlene urged you to meet the Marauders at the bar with them, you fervently declined.

“A bar? Filled to the brim with drunkards? James would never let me out of his sight,” you argued, moving away as Marlene approached you with a tube of lipstick. “I’m not going.”

She crossed her arms, her lower lip jutting out. “Please, Y/N.” Marlene gestured at your attire: Black hot pants and a long sleeved crop top. “You’re already dressed for it.”

You glared down at your outfit, tugging at the hem of your shorts. “I didn’t know you guys chose clothes for me to wear to a bar.”

“What did you think? Your arse is hanging out for tea with the Minister of Magic?”

Lily gave Marlene a warning look as you flushed a bright red. “Don’t listen to her, Y/N. Your arse is not hanging out.” She paused, giving you a once over. “Well…You’ll blend in, at least.”

You groaned, pinching the bridge of your nose. “James is going to kill me.”

“So what?” Marlene interjected. “He’s your brother, not your dad. Who cares what he thinks?”

I do; he’s my brother.”

A slight snort came out from Lily. “Marlene is right. You’re your own woman. You shouldn’t let the opinion of that arrogant toerag dictate your decisions.”

You and Marlene exchange glances. It was quite obvious that, over the years, James’ crush was becoming less unrequited. And although it was disturbing at first, you quickly accepted the idea that one of your best friends fancied your brother.

“You mean that arrogant toerag you so happen to like?” you said, raising an eyebrow. 

Lily raised hers back defiantly. “I don’t like James Potter.”

“Yeah, right,” Marlene scoffed. “That’s like saying Y/N doesn’t have the hots Sirius Black.”

You frowned, ignoring the slight amount of heat rising to your cheeks. “But I don’t.”

Now it was Lily and Marlene who gave each other incredulous looks. It was clear neither of them believed your poorly concealed lie. They knew, no matter how much you denied it, that you had developed a crush on Sirius the moment he gave you a bundle of white flowers for Christmas. Just the thought of his hand brushing against your cheek as he tucked a single flower behind your ear made your butterflies come alive.

“Let’s pretend, for now, that we believe you.” Marlene checked the time. “But in this moment, I hear the firewhisky calling my name. Are you coming?”

“Sirius will be there,” Lily sang.

You threw your head back defeat. “Fine.” You paused. “But not because I want to see Sirius.”

Keep reading

Let Me Protect You - Mitch Rapp

Author: @mf-despair-queen

Characters: Mitch Rapp/Reader

Word Count: 11,337

Warnings: WHERE DO I EVEN BEGIN? 18+, NSFW, Oral (both receiving), Orgasm Denial, Multiple Orgasms, Daddy Kink, Shower Sex, Wall Sex, Bondage, Mitch’s Scruff, Mitch’s sexy ass arms and muscles and abs and face and MITCH’S ENTIRE BEING

Notes: Holy. Shit. It’s long overdue but THAT WORD COUNT??? I am dying inside from this. I hope you dirty people like this. Please let me know because this literally killed me inside to write. 

Keep reading

Irate

Summary: 

Y/N’s curious, clumsy, and has a knack for asking the wrong questions at the wrong time. Bucky’s a hot-headed prick with a dark past and communication issues. Both are paired for training, and neither party is all too thrilled. 

Word count: 1200 


“This is the training room.”

You nod even though you’re barely processing anything you’re being told.

Three days ago you’d woken up in an abandoned warehouse, with no idea where you were or how you’d gotten there. There were significant gaps in your memory and a you were in lot of pain. Then someone in a red metal suit had entered your field of vision, frowning, and you’d passed out, wondering if it was all some kind of dream. When you’d come to for the second time, you were in the infirmary and this man, (Steve?), started saying something  about a group of enhanced individuals and you being one of them. It took all your willpower to not pass out again.

“We don’t know what your abilities are, but given your enhancements, people are going to come after you. It’s important that you learn to defend yourself.”

You’re still not sure what ‘abilities’ he’s talking about, or what he means by 'enhancements’.

“Training is usually carried out by Natasha or Wanda,” Steve’s speaking again, barely taking notice of you staring at him with eyes wider than plates. “But since they’re away on a mission, we’ll have to find someone else to train you.”  

You nod your head, still trying to understand everything. The names are meaningless to you, and you’re not too keen on getting trained by anyone, especially not if they all have the same stressed out demeanor that Steve seems to radiate. There’s a dull headache beginning to throb at the back of your skull, and honestly, you just need to close your eyes for a bit.

“We should go speak to Fury.”

As if you know who that is. You just nod and follow after him as he hurries along.


Everything about Director Nick Fury is unnerving, from the immaculate state of his office to the way his eye seems to be looking right through you. You swallow hard as he addresses Steve, keeping his eye trained on you the entire time.

“And we don’t know what her abilities are?”

You grit your teeth, still uncomfortable with all the talk of your abilities and your supposed enhancement. You can barely remember your own name.

“Not yet.”

Nick sighs and seems to be in deep thought. After a moment, he turns his body to you. “Can you shoot a gun?”

You look at him incredulously. A gun, you? You could barely hold a kitchen knife without fumbling with it. To hold, no, to shoot a gun? If this was any other situation, you might have laughed. Instead, you shake your head. “No, sir.”

He turns back to Steve. “Well, she’s going to have to learn. Barnes is the best sniper we’ve got. He’ll train her.”

Steve winces, and for a moment he looks like he’s about to say something else, but Fury turns his attention to the screen in front of him, clearly dismissing the two of you.


Steve leads you through the maze-like halls of the compound, until finally, you’re standing in front of large double doors. He pauses and looks to you with a sigh. He seems beat down, dark circles and pallid face. You almost sympathize, but then realize you probably look much the same.

“Bucky’s a good guy, Y/N. Just remember that.”

You’re not sure what he means, or why that’s even relevant, but you don’t have time to think as Steve pushes open the doors and strides inside before coming to a stop in a living-room of sorts, where two people are seated on the couch. Neither of them seem too happy to be in the other’s presence.

Upon seeing Steve, both of them stand, and the one to the right smiles brightly. He’s the first person you’ve seen that looks relaxed at the compound, wearing sweats and a t-shirt and an expression of genuine interest on his face.

“Captain,” he greets, but it’s more out of mock respect than a soldier-like salute, and even Steve’s eyes crinkle. You can tell their friendship goes a long way.  His brown eyes glance at you. His smile doesn’t waver, and it’s so contagious that you can’t hold back the smile that makes its way onto your lips.

If this is Barnes, then maybe training won’t be as bad as it sounds.

Your spare a glance at the person to his left, dressed in the same relaxing attire but looking nowhere near as calm. Every part of this man’s body language screams stress, from head to toe. Upon seeing you, his scowl deepens, and you drop your smile.

“Buck, you’re taking this round of training.”

The guy to the left grins and turns to you. “And I’m guessing she’s the one who needs training?”

Steve nods and you feel your erratic heartbeat slow down significantly. The warning that Steve had given you earlier disappears to the back of your head; the guy seems so chill and laidback, it’s a breather. You smile back, until–

“Oh man, good luck.”

The confusion must show on your face, because the guy turns to Mr. Scowls-A-Lot and claps him on the back. “Meet our resident Grinch, Bucky Barnes.”

Your heart drops to your stomach and Bucky glares at you, fingers curled into a fist. You want to ask him what put him in such a bad mood, but you’re not sure you’ll stay alive long enough to hear the answer.

“Can I talk to you for a moment, Steve?” Bucky’s jaw clenches and his face is slowly turning red. Even Steve, who seems to be in charge here, grimaces. With a sigh, he follows Bucky to the other corner of the room. You plop down onto the sofa.

“I’d say don’t worry but, I’d definitely worry.” You turn to the first guy, and he holds out his hand. “I’m Sam.”

“Y/N,” you shake it, then gesture to the duo in the corner, having a pretty heated conversation. “Is he always this…”

“Grumpy? Only on a good day.” When he sees your face pale even more, Sam laughs. “I’m just kidding. He takes some warming up to, but he’s not a bad guy.”

He repeats exactly what Steve had said, and for whatever reason, the words aren’t reassuring in the least. Bucky and Steve’s conversation seems to have escalated to loud whispers now, and you catch certain phrases here and there, “I don’t know… Nobody seems to… Can’t be trusted.”

The last one hits you hard, and you want to be angry, but Bucky’s right. You barely remember anything about yourself and you have supposed abilities that you’re pretty much in the dark about; even you can’t trust yourself.

The clock on the wall shows the time to be just past two in the morning, and just as the second hand makes its way around the face for the second time, Bucky walks up to you, fists clenched and breathing heavily through his nose.

“Meet me in the training room tomorrow morning. Six a.m. sharp.” He’s less than thrilled about the whole ordeal, and you can only match his level of discomfort.

As he storms out of the room, you throw your head back onto the couch and groan.


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#DateMeBuckyBarnes (Part 7)

Summary: When Hollywood’s heartthrob Bucky Barnes breaks up with his girlfriend, you jokingly tag him in a selfie on Instagram to express your desire to date him. What you don’t expect is a response from the man himself [Modern AU].

Word Count: 1,001

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6

A/N: After listening to Beach Weather’s ‘Swoon’ and ‘Sex, Drugs, Etc.’ on an endless loop, I finally managed to write this update. Also, sending my love to @lovellylittlelonely for giving me feedback on this :)

Originally posted by satanshideaway

Residing in the darkness, you stood quietly as everyone around you swayed to the music booming through the speakers, the melodies pulsing in your ears. Watching the performance, you spotted Viz behind the drums while he played the set with his bandmates. You figured your friends were near the front to get a better view with Wanda’s insistence. You knew she was determined to see her man up close. 

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Zimbits AU where your world is black and white until you hear your soulmate laugh

-

Jack knows his parents’ story off by heart.

Bob had been on the ice at an away game. The crowd was screaming; it was overtime. Things had been a bit tense. 

And then Bob had put a puck in the net of the opposition and that was it. The disappointed home audience had fallen into a quiet grumble after some polite clapping. Many hands were slapped on Bob’s back as the team skated towards the edge of the ice. Bob had been just about to leave the rink, and then-

A laugh. A snorting, wonderful laugh, and his world filled with color.

He had frozen where he stood, ears caught on the sound of that laugh and the voice that followed.

“I told you, didn’t I? No one’s got it like Bad Bobby Z!”

It was his turn to let out a laugh and he did, with gusto. His voice boomed so loud it had seemed to reverberate around the arena, every head swiveling to the source of the noise.

Every time he told that story, Bob swore blind he heard his soulmate’s gasp in the ensuing silence. Alicia would roll her eyes fondly, stating that she did not gasp, thank you very much, and that the dreadful nickname she’d called him had been popular among hockey fans at the time. 

Whatever the truth, they’d introduced themselves moments later and were married within the year. It was like that, with soulmates. Instantaneous.

Jack’s not heard that story since before the Draft. He knows people think if he’d found his soulmate before- before, he wouldn’t have done it. But people tend to over romanticize things out of habit. In the end, soulmates and laughter and colors had very little to do with how he ended up here.

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Break Me [Draco x Reader, One]

A/N: Haha let me start off by saying I honestly don’t believe Draco would be the cheater type, but I love angst and I love Draco so ,,, Also!! Don’t know if anyone would be interested, but I’m probably going to make a separate Hamilton Imagine blog!! I love Hamilton and all the characters and all of the cast members! Anyways, enjoy!! Love you all!!

 

Word Count: 1,636

 

Warnings: Angst. Cheating. Self blame. Cursing.

 

Summary: (Name) gave everything to him, but he wasn’t willing to give back.

 

Requested: No lol im a jerk


Chapter Two / Three / Four / Five


Masterlist


Originally posted by daz-zling-bling

The sight of (Name) and Draco Malfoy turned heads. The mere thought of (Name) and Draco Malfoy turned heads.

(Name), perhaps the most loyal, caring, and kind girl anyone would ever know somehow ended up head over heels for Draco Malfoy. She would follow him around, a sweet smile never faltering. He would look pretty content with himself, arms linked with (Name’s) own. It didn’t take much to realize that (Name) was very attractive in a dreamy, almost fantasy like way. In fact, multiple men and women had asked for her affections. She only replied with a sweet smile and a polite rejection, claiming she already had a boyfriend.

Draco was no idiot. He knew that many people wished to have his girlfriend for themselves.

At first he merely got jealous at this. How dare someone fantasize over his girlfriend?!

As days grew into weeks, and weeks grew into months, his jealousy turned into pride. She was another thing he had that many people, including Harry Potter, didn’t have.

The two started off hopelessly in love. Starry eyes and rosy cheeks were exchanged. Longing looks and sweet messages were sent back and forth.

Over time, Draco became more and more distant. However, (Name) stayed the same, remaining completely infatuated with him. Draco, from a first glance, didn’t seem to be as in love with (Name) as she was with him. 


The First Month.

 

Of course, like many couples, (Name) and Draco had a phase where nothing else seemed to matter but the two of them and their love for each other. It was almost as if they couldn’t be apart from one another or they would fall ill.

“Draco! Draco, come here!” (Name) chirped with the same giddy smile playing at her cheeks.

“Yes? (Name), what is it? Are you injured?” His voice was frantic and shaky. (Name) laughed and shook her head. “No, silly!” She spread her arms out wide. “Come here!”

Draco did so with a smile, leaning into her embrace. “What is all this about?”

“Mmm… Nothing, really. I just wanted to cuddle you. I love you, you know?” Draco chuckled softly and wrapped his arms around her, closing his eyes and savoring the feeling of his beloved breathing softly into his chest. They didn’t seem to notice the dozens of students amongst them stare in disgust, envy, or even admiration.

“And I love you, (Name). Always.”


The Seventh Month.

 

While (Name) was in fact hopelessly, blindly in love, she was no idiot. She noticed when Draco avoided her affections or avoided her in general. She didn’t pay much attention to it, though. She assumed she was being clingy, and her herself was at fault. Sometimes the two would be together, a joyful smile ever present on (Name’s) face. But she noticed they only ever seemed to be affectionate around each other in front of crowds.

The thought that Draco may be using her crept in the back of her mind. He wouldn’t, would he?

No… He couldn’t. He loved her.

At least… That’s what she told herself.


The Eleventh Month.

 

It was nearing their one year anniversary. (Name) had been looking forward to this for about… Well, about a year now.

It was now their sixth year and the couple were just now growing out of the phase where they looked like they had matured, but not fully. (Name) admittedly had larger curves and had matured significantly over a single summer, and Draco had a sharper jawline, broader shoulders, and the attitude of how he described as a “true Malfoy”.


Yet (Name) still had the innocence and the happiness she held during her younger years. She had made many friends, more male friends than Draco would like to admit, due to her upbeat and kind nature.

“Draco!” She just stepped off the train and finally got to see him. She didn’t get a chance to see him on the train, either from bad luck or the fact that Draco was avoiding her.

She tried to tell herself that Draco didn’t just roll his eyes. Instead, she focused on the smile, fake, he wore.

“I’ve missed you! Oh, how was your summer, love? Tell me all about it!” Her hands gently gripped his shoulders and his hands rested on her waist, tense.

“Mhm, of course. You’ll have to excuse me, (Name).” And with only that, he left. (Name’s) smile faltered as she waved goodbye and tried to ignore the stinging feeling in her chest.

As usual, she was forced to ignore it and wander off to find her other friends.

“Don’t you think he’s a little… You know…? Neglecting?” Lyssa, one of (Name’s) friends asked. (Name) almost spat out her beverage as if what Lyssa was saying was in a whole different language. She quickly shook her head, eyes widened. “No! He’s just busy… That’s all…” But deep down (Name) knew. She knew something was wrong.

Tomorrow was it. Tomorrow was their one year anniversary.

(Name) was ecstatic. She hadn’t been this happy since Draco asked her out.

She had to refrain from running to him when she saw him eating. “Draco!” she chirped, hugging him from behind lovingly. He nudged her off with a look she couldn’t quite place on his face. “What are you doing?” he snapped. (Name) recoiled, blushing from embarrassment.

“Oh, sorry… Anyways, I just wanted to give you this!” She smiled and handed him a neatly wrapped box with a grin. He looked at her, both puzzled and annoyed. “Uh… Thanks?” At this, her face fell.

“Oh… U-Um, okay…! I’ll be… Um, off… Then…” Her voice was dejected and her heart felt like lead. As she walked away she heard one of his friends mumble, “Why do you put up with her?”

She never heard Draco’s response, but she was certain she didn’t want to.

As she walked the world turned to mush around her. She didn’t even feel it when she sat down beside her friends, for she was far too absorbed in her own thoughts.

Had she done something wrong along the way? Was she overwhelming?

Why didn’t Draco seem to love her anymore?

As if moving on its’ own, her hand clutched her heard as she almost felt it crack. No… That couldn’t be it. Draco still loved her. He had to… Right?

Her thoughts kept her occupied throughout the night. (Name) blamed herself entirely—I mean… It had to be her fault, right? It couldn’t be Draco’s fault.

As it felt as if she had just fallen asleep, she caught sight of the sunlight drifting in through the window. She heard her dorm mates shuffling around, probably getting ready.


She did the same, much to her annoyance.

(Name) walked down the corridor alone. Her friends simply weren’t there at the time and she looked like she had spent the last night doing anything but sleeping.

In her defense, that’s exactly what happened. She didn’t get a wink of sleep.

“—And he’s great in bed!” (Name) scoffed, rolling her eyes. She normally wasn’t this bitter, but the voice was very obviously targeting her intentionally. She whipped her head around to see—

“Draco…?” Draco, seeing (Name) full and clear, immediately pushed away from—Who was that? Wasn’t her name Patty? Pansy?

Draco hadn’t realized that was (Name) walking in front of him. Her hair, usually full of volume and loose, was pulled back. She wasn’t surrounded by friends as she usually was.

“What did she say, Draco? Was she talking about you?” (Name’s) voice was full of hurt, betrayal, and disgust. Pansy (Or was it Patty?) held a smirk.

“Oh, yeah! Didn’t you know?” (Name’s) eyes snapped to her.

You. You shut up. I never asked you,” she snapped. Pansy recoiled with an offended face. “I need to hear it from Draco.” (Name) looked at him. Her eyes softened seeing his face. “Draco, for once in your life, tell me the truth. After a year of this shit, I think I deserve one truth out of you.” Several people couldn’t help but stare at the girl who was normally so bright and mellow.

His throat felt as if it was closing up. He couldn’t seem to form words. He opened his mouth to speak, only to close it once more.

(Name) huffed, pathetically wiping her eyes with her sleeve. “I can’t believe you!” She shoved him back with her two hands, sending him stumbling backwards a bit. She was weak at this time, both physically and emotionally. He looked at her with wide eyes, along with every other passing student. “I spend a year! A year! Giving everything I had, everything I felt, everything I was made of to you! I gave everything to you! And you can’t even muster up a couple of words to tell me if you are cheating on me?” She looked at him with vulnerable, broken eyes. They softened as she lowered her head. “I’m sorry, Draco… Just… Tell me this one thing, okay?” He gulped, suddenly aware of how many glaring eyes were on him.

“How long has this been going on?” She spat out the word ‘this’ like venom.

“About two months…” At this, (Name) ran a shaky hand through her hair and exhaled with a sob. Before she could break down, her friend tugged at her wrist and ran her to a bathroom. As she retreated, Draco could hear small and broken mumbles of “What did I do wrong? What could I have done wrong?” down the hall being emitted from her form.

All he could do was stare. All he could do was watch as he, Draco Malfoy, somehow turned someone brighter than the sun, sweeter than honey, and happier than anyone he could ever know, into nothing but a broken, empty shell of a girl.

LoS Part 1: Snippets from Tumblr

From tumblr:

1.  “Actually, it’s short for Maximum Lightwood,” said Magnus. “As in the most amount of Lightwood you can have.”

2.  Far below them the world spun by, a patchwork of summer-gold fields, green hills, and luminous, winding rivers of blue and green. It was beautiful, but Julian could not take his eyes off his brother. So this is the Wild Hunt, he thought. This freedom, this expanse, this ferocity of joy. For the first time, he understood how and why Mark’s choice to stay with his family might not be an easy one. For the first time he thought in wonder of how much his brother must love him after all, to consider giving up the sky for his sake.

3. And even odder, when Mark and Kieran had come into the library, Kieran had gone immediately over to Max and picked him up, delighted by his blue skin and his tiny horns.Max had stuck his hand into Kieran’s wavy hair and pulled. Kieran had just laughed. “That’s right, it changes color, little nixie-like warlock,” he said. “Look.” And his hair went from blue-black to blue in an instant. Max giggled.“I didn’t know you could do that on purpose,” said Mark, who had always thought of Kieran’s hair as a reflection of his moods, uncontrollable as the tides.“You don’t know a lot of things about me, Mark Blackthorn,” Kieran said, setting Max down.Alec and Magnus had exchanged a look at that, the sort of look that made Mark feel as if they had reached a silent and agreed-upon consensus …

4.  “You’re going to have to learn to live with it,” Jules said. “Even if it horrifies you, Emma. Even if it makes you sick. Just like I’m going to have to live with whatever other boyfriends you have, because we are forever no matter how, Emma, no matter what you want to call what we have, we will always be us.”

5. They threw their weapons down and hurled themselves toward the row of horses, one after the other — Livvy leapt at Julian, throwing her arms around his neck. Mark flung himself from his horse and landed to find himself being hugged tightly by Dru and Tavvy. Ty came more quietly, but with the same incandescent happiness on his face. He waited for Livvy to be done nearly strangling her brother and then stepped in to take Julian’s hands.And Julian, who Kit had always thought of as an almost frightening model of control and distance, grabbed his brother and yanked him close, his hands twisting in the back of Ty’s shirt. His eyes were shut, and Kit had to look away.He had never had anyone but his father, and he was sure beyond any words that his father had never loved him like that.

6. “Clary, what are you not telling me?”There was a long silence. Clary looked out toward the dark water, biting her lip. Finally, she spoke. “Jace asked me to marry him.”“Oh!” Emma had already begun opening her arms to hug the other girl when she caught sight of Clary’s expression. She froze. “What’s wrong?”

7. There was a long silence. Magnus sighed. “I have to hand it to you,” he said. “I never thought Jace and Clary would be topped by anyone else in terms of insane, self-destructive decisions, but you all are giving them a run for their money.”“I really had nothing to do with this,” Kieran pointed out stiffly.“I think you will find many poor decisions led you here, my friend,” Magnus said. “All right, you — all of you — wait here. And don’t do anything stupid.”He strode out of the room on long, black-clad legs, swearing under his breath.“He’s getting more and more like Gandalf,” said Emma, watching him go. “I mean, a hot, younger-looking Gandalf, but I keep expecting him to start stroking his long white beard and muttering darkly.

8. There was a commotion atop the pavilion, and a single blast from a horn shattered the murmuring quiet in the clearing. The gentry looked up. A tall figure had appeared beside the throne. He was all in white, salt-white, with a doublet of white silk and gauntlets of white bone. White horns curled from either side of his head, startling against the blackness of his hair. A gold band encircled his forehead.Cristina exhaled. “The King.”Emma could see his profile: it was beautiful. Clear, precise, clean like a drawing of something perfect. Emma couldn’t have described the shape of his eyes or cheekbones or the crook of his mouth, and she lacked Jules’ ability to paint it, but she knew it was uncanny and wonderful and that she would remember the face of the King of the Seelie Court for all of her life.He turned, bringing his face into full view. Emma heard Cristina gasp faintly. The King’s face was divided down the middle. The right side was the face of a handsome young man, luminous with youth and beauty. The left side was an inhuman mask, gray skin tight and leathery over bone, eyesocket empty and black, mottled with red scars.Kieran, bound to the tree, looked once at the monstrous face of his father and turned his head away, his chin dropping, tangled dark hair falling to hide his eyes.

9. When Emma came out into her bedroom, wearing sweatpants and a tank top and rubbing her hair dry with a green towel, she found Mark curled up at the foot of her bed, reading a copy of Alice in Wonderland.He was wearing a pair of cotton pajama bottoms that Emma had bought for three dollars from a vendor on the side of the PCH. He was partial to them as being oddly close in their loose, light material to the sort of trousers he’d worn in Faerie.If it bothered him that they also had a pattern of green shamrocks embroidered with the words GET LUCKY on them, he didn’t show it. He sat up when Emma came in, scrubbing his hands through his hair, and smiled at her.Mark had a smile that could break your heart. It seemed to take up his whole face and brighten his eyes, firing the blue and gold from inside.“A strange evening, forsooth,” he said.Emma put her hands on her hips. “Don’t you forsooth me.”

10. “It can’t last,” Emma said, staring at him, because how could it, when they could never keep what they had? “It’ll break our hearts.”He caught her by the wrist, brought her hand to his chest. Splayed her fingers over his heart. It beat against her palm, like a fist punching its way out of his ribcage. “Break my heart,” he said. “Break it in pieces. I give you permission.”

11. “I have always needed you, Kieran,” Mark said. “I have needed you to live. I’ve always needed you so much, I never had a chance to think about whether we were good for each other or not.”Kieran sat up. “That is honest,” he said, finally. “I cannot fault you there.”

12. Cristina spread her hands apart in bewilderment, and winced. Mark’s expression turned to one of concern.“You’re not in pain?” he said.“No,” she said. “Are you?”“You’re near me,” he said. “There is no reason for me to hurt.”

13.  “I know.” Mark brushed his lips across her forehead. Cristina could feel his heart pounding. “We’ll figure it out. We’ll fix it.”

14.  Kieran sat up rather reluctantly. The waves of his hair had lightened to blue; he turned around, and leaned back against Mark, rather as if they were on horseback and Mark was behind.

15. Kieran shook his head. “I cannot do it,” he said.“Kier —“ Mark began angrily, but Kieran had his head down, like a beaten dog. His hair fell, sweat-tangled, into his face, and his shirt and the waist of his breeches were soaked in blood. “You’re bleeding again. I thought you said you were healing?”“I thought I was,” Kieran said softly. “Mark, leave me here —“A hand touched Mark’s shoulder. Cristina. She had put her knife away. She looked at him, levelly. “I’ll help you get him over the wall.”

16. “Not one of my best,” said Magnus, to Kieran. “I apologize — I’m not a big fan of your father’s.”“My father does not have fans.” Kieran leaned against the edge of the table. “He has subjects. And enemies.”“And sons.”“His sons are his enemies,” said Kieran, without inflection.

Alarm Bells Ringing / Jeff Atkins

Words: 1391
Masterlist
Request
Clarifications 

The moment Jeff saw you making your way down the hall towards him, he knew something was wrong. He noticed straight away that the smile you offered him just before you reached him was not genuine. Though he became more concerned with you when you greeted him with a kiss.

You had been dating for almost six months and never had you once initiated a kiss so publicly-you much preferred to keep your relationship private. You were shy and hated attention, you even tended to shift away from your boyfriend when he tried to hold your hand around others so this abrupt change in behaviour definitely took him off guard. 

He froze as your lips met his.

It only lasted a few seconds and when you pulled away you couldn’t stop the small giggle that left you as you took in his expression. 

“You okay there?” you asked, amusement filling your features. 

Jeff snapped out of his daze and quickly shut his locker before addressing you so you could have his full attention, “Should I be asking you that?” he countered. 

He noticed the slight hesitation that passed over your face, the subtle change in posture. You only shook your head as you leant against the locker beside his, “I’m good,” you insisted, not realising Jeff had caught your lie. “We should head to class,” you suggested, “the bell will be going soon.”

Jeff sighed, not wanting to push you on the matter and deciding to wait until you wanted to open up to him, he agreed. 

He almost jumped in surprise as you slid your hand in his and held him close to your side. As worried as he had become, Jeff had to smile. 

Granted he was concerned, but it was hard for him to not take advantage of the rare occurrence. 

Jeff pressed a kiss against the top of your head as they walked down the corridor, a warm feeling igniting within him as you smiled up at him rather than shield yourself away. 


After school, Jeff met up with Clay as usual but his mind was somewhere else. Something Clay noticed rather quickly. “What’s up?” he questioned, placing his pen on the table.

Jeff ran a hand through his hair, “I don’t even know,” he groaned. “Something’s up with (Y/N) today and she hasn’t spoken to me about it…she’s acting different and I don’t want to bring it up just in case it makes her push me away.”

Clay leant back in his chair, “Look,” he said. “Usually you give me the relationship advice,” he laughed, “and I know I’m kind of useless when it comes to this, but it’s (Y/N),” he stated, as if it was the most obvious answer in the world.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Jeff demanded on the defensive. 

Clay smiled to reassure his friend that he meant no offence, “I’m just saying, she’ll come to you when she’s ready. You know better than anyone that sometimes she just needs some time to herself to process things before she can talk about them.”

Jeff slowly nodded, “I guess. But did you see the way she was today?” he asked, in which Clay shook his head in reply. “I just want to help her…” he whispers. “I’m just really worried.”

“Speak of the devil,” Clay said quietly, his focus on something, someone behind Jeff.

He turned around and found you heading their way. Jeff smiled as his girlfriend sat herself in the seat beside him. “Hey Clay,” you greet. 

He raised his hand to wave his hello before picking up the discarded piece of work he was reading over to give you and Jeff a moment. 

You take hold of Jeff’s left hand and move his arm closer to you, hugging it against your chest as you rest your head on your spare arm against the table. Letting out a small yawn, your eyes slowly closed. 

See, Jeff mouthed to Clay who had looked over at them in curiosity. He merely shrugged and went back to reading. 

Jeff shifted in his seat and moved his right arm towards you and began moving the hair out of your face that had fallen down when you had laid down. Your smile made Jeff’s heart quicken. 

He stopped himself from asking what was wrong as his hand stopped moving on the top of her head, resting amongst your hair. 

Movement from across from him caused Jeff to look up at Clay who had stood from his seat, “Where are you going?” he asked, their session no where near done.

“Your somewhere else at the moment and I don’t think you will be able to focus until you know what you want to,” he told him sympathetically. “I’ll see you around, you know where I am if you need something.”

Jeff thanked his friend and watched as he walked away, finally turning back to you as you mumbled a quiet apology.

“It’s not your fault,” he assured her.

You lazily opened your eyes, peering up at him-you took in his expression. “Your a horrible liar,” you informed him. He let out a small laugh at her words but didn’t speak. “You shouldn’t worry about me,” she told him.

“I can’t help it.”

Your smile only grew and Jeff ran his fingers down your cheek. “I know what’s been going through your head all day,” you continued, closing your eyes again as his soft touch relaxed you. “But you really shouldn’t have worried. I’m sorry for not talking to you earlier about it.”

“Don’t apologise,” he insisted.

“You’re too sweet,” you sighed happily, wondering how you were so lucky to have him. “But really, I was just feeling a little down today. Nothing happened, I’m just…not entirely feeling like myself. But I’ll be better when I’ve had a good rest, I think.”

Jeff hesitated before responding, “That doesn’t really explain why you’ve been so…” he trailed off, not sure how to word what he wanted to say.

She chuckled, gripping his hand tighter, “You make me happy,” she said easily. “Being around you just makes everything better.”

That warm feeling inside of him returned and Jeff was beaming, “I do, huh?” he grinned. If Jeff could have seen your eyes, he was certain you would have rolled them. 

“I noticed something today,” she frowned, continuing their conversation. “Something else I should probably apologise for.”

Now Jeff was frowning, “What is it?”

“I realised how little I show you that I love you.” 

Jeff scoffed, moving his arm out of your hold and forcing you to sit up. Your eyes lock on his and there was disbelief in them, “Are you kidding me?” he asked. “You think that just because you don’t hold my hand in school or want to kiss me around these people that I can’t tell that you love me?”

You were confused, not understanding his point.

“(Y/N),” he groaned, gripping your chin between his fingers gently so you were still looking at him. “You show me how much you love me each time you look me in the eyes and each time you smile across the room, the love you express through the little things…that’s what matters. That’s what makes my heart race and my head go cloudy. I don’t need you to kiss me every time you see me or tell me in words you love me every other hour of the day. Okay?”

You nodded slowly, taking in his words.

“I love that our moments-are our moments. And that only I get to see that side of you. Don’t get me wrong, I loved how you were today just like how I love you are every other day. I love you. Every part of you and you shouldn’t be thinking that it’s not enough. Because you’re more than enough.”

Your hands grip his shoulders and you tug him towards you, kissing him like you had never done before in public, suddenly grateful that the library was relatively empty. Jeff’s hands found their way around your waist as yours trailed along his chest and down his sides-the kiss never once breaking. 

Finally pulling apart, you smiled shyly, leaving one hand on his hip as the other made its way to the side of his face. “I love you, too,” you whispered. “And thank you.”

The Elsewhere Child

He was supposed to take my memories when he brought me here, the seelie knight, who had been commanded to escort me home with a simple “take it away, it’s too old now and it bores me” from the noble who had kept me for the past while. I traded him my singing voice for them though, and now where once sweet music poured from my lips only hoarse and untuned notes fall out without any of the tempo or melody they had before. Now I think I made a bad trade. It might have been better, if I didn’t remember, or remembered something else entirely.

I stare at the boy next to me in the circle, I was asked to join this circle as a way to make me feel part of something, part of a circle. They call the circle a support group for abducted children. Children who were abducted and got away, that is, I don’t think there’s a support group for those currently abducted. Their abductors wouldn’t allow them to attend, I suppose. The boy is speaking about the man who touched him, speaking of the horrible way he loved that man, because he was a child, and he had to love someone. Are his memories true? Or is he like me? Did a faerie take him away, and replace the memories from Under the Hill with these tragedies? Why? Did he commit some crime? I cannot say.

I am fascinated by the girl who sits next to the girl directly across from me in the circle. She tells us to call her Angie. She wears ratty clothes, not the sort of poor chic that seems to be an underlying trend, with jackets made of patches and ribbed cloth sold at malls, but real grunge. The tears in her sleeves reveal razor scars, her hair is short, she wants to look tough, she wants people to cross the street to get away from her when they see her coming. She is not tough. She is nervous, always nervous, always afraid, though she hides it well. None of these things are too interesting to me, those things I can see anywhere, but I thought context would be important so that the fact that she’s a pathological liar would not be the only thing you knew about her.

She is a pathological liar.

Her lies fascinate me.

After group chat, I take her aside and we talk, sometimes just for a few minutes, sometimes for hours, and I watch her fabricate thousands of untruths, from tiny white ones to huge fantastical ones as bright and colorful as her life has never been. Some days, I believe everything she says and some days I question each word, trying to figure out her secret.

It’s a strange thing, I was taken before I really knew my name, and each faerie that’s kept me (I was a pet for them) called me something different. Do I even have a true name? I’ve been Jane Doe since I showed up, stumbling barefoot and confused into a police station moments after midnight (at least the knight knew to leave me near a place of authority), so I’ve been introducing myself as Roe, like the deer. They ran my DNA through the missing children’s database (I didn’t understand what that was at first, was shocked at how closely humans had approximated magic with computers), but there was no match. I told them I didn’t know how long ago I’d been abducted, and suggested that it might have been before the database was made. They laughed and said I was eighteen, and DNA technology had been around much longer than me. I tried to explain that time was different where I had been kept, but they simply patted me on my head and told me they were sure that it seemed that way to me at the time.

They stared at me worriedly when one of them brought me a McDonald’s Happy Meal, and I asked what she wanted for it. She told me nothing. No one here ever asks for anything besides courtesy in return for their food, but old habits are hard to break. Even now, in my foster home, I cannot help insisting that my hosts confirm that this food is a gift freely given. They asked me to help them cook and I broke down in tears because there was a cast iron skillet on the stove (“Please don’t make me, iron burns, iron burns, and it gets under your skin and makes you go grey and lifeless like a flower severed from its roots, plea-please, please don’t make me”). It took them an hour to convince me that they weren’t trying to force me to poison myself, and the food burned (“I said I would help you, you asked me to cook and I agreed, but, but please don’t make me, it burns, it’ll burn me!” “It’s alright darling, you don’t have to cook if you don’t want to.” “But I said I would! It was an oath!” “We’re sorry, we wouldn’t have asked if we’d known it would upset you, you can help some other way if you like.” “You… absolve me of my oath?” “Yes, of course we do darling!”).

I am more comfortable with iron now, I am not one of the Fair Folk, after all, it will not harm me. Correction, a blade of iron would harm me, but not because it was made of iron. It does, however, mess with my glamor.

It is a difficult thing, growing up bathed in magic and yet to have none of your own. A pixie once spoke of how she envied my hair, and I said, on impulse, “do you want it?” So a trade was made. She gave me the ability to change my appearance, and she walked away with my hair. I expected my hair to grow back after a time though… it did not. With my glamor I can have the appearance of having whatever hair I please, and sometimes I change it daily, but when I sleep or when iron is near my bare head is revealed. It is assumed by my hosts and everyone around me that I have many wigs, I have told them I do not, but they don’t believe in magic, so they insist on believing this instead.

I hide when I hear thunder, duck into a bathroom and put everything on backward and inside out if I’m in public, or simply sit quiet if I’m home. The first time I did this, it shook me to my core when someone told me “You know, your shirt is on backward.” I started to panic, until I realized that I could see myself too. It was a revelation, discovering that there was something humans could see that the Good Neighbors couldn’t.

It still boggles my mind how much people throw away, tears and menstrual blood caught on napkins, or gifts from that one aunt that they held onto for so long for the sentimental value but can’t keep now because they have to move into a smaller apartment, or the shirt they can’t wear anymore because it smells like their ex. They could trade these items to faeries for so many things, and yet they simply throw them away. What a waste.

My hosts insisted I should have a proper education, and after three years of homeschooling (to get me caught up) I applied to attend the local state college. There I found more people who fascinate me the way Angie does. There’s Lisa, who fights for animal rights, and Kyle, the leader of the Gay Straight Alliance group, and Riley, who’s going into the Peace Corps next year because they want to help the world. I ask them all the time why they do what they do, what they expect to get back, and they tell me that ideally they’ll make the world a better place, and that will pay them back eventually, but that they don’t do it for what they’ll get back, they do it because it’s right. I don’t understand. There’s Cheyenne, who always gets into intense political debates with other people over dinner in the cafeteria, and she believes so intensely about things that don’t even affect her, and she fights for them, and she tells me she does this because it’s right, and I don’t understand. I’ve never met anyone who cared about anything other than themselves Under the Hill. Faeries can’t lie, they can’t go back on their word, they honor their deals and make sure you honor them too, they repay debts and ensure they’re repaid in turn, they amuse themselves playing or squabbling over power, but they do not do things for free. They don’t care about things for free. They don’t defend the innocent, protect the weak, or forgive the ignorant. The culture shock coming here is bewildering.

If I could I’d honor my debts, leave a pile of gold at the doorstep of everyone who’s done me a kindness, but I have not the magic to do so. The drainage ponds hold no sirens, the falling snow has no frolicking pixies between its flakes, there is no magic for me to use here… or is there?

Perhaps I can’t call upon the magic Under the Hill, perhaps I can’t summon gold or make deals with darklings, but I can find magic here, I’ve seen others do it. I’ve seen a moon so beautiful it sends shivers down your spine captured by a little lense-box and put onto thick shiny paper. I’ve seen songs and stories written with such emotion that it moves those who hear them to tears, to laughter, to dancing, to life. I’ve seen kitchen witches cure colds with hot chicken soup, and I’ve seen holy men ward off tricksters they can’t even see with the power of their belief.

Perhaps I can find a way to create my own magic, and do what other people seem to strive to do to repay their debts. Perhaps I can make the world a better place, and learn the magic of humanity. And as for the places where magic does live? Where the boundary between worlds is thin and the drainage ponds and snowflakes carry faerie magic within? …I think I’ll be staying far away, for my part. I might still have a lot to learn, but I think I like it better here.

Liberty Pt.1

Originally posted by kingsebastian

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Reader

AU: Pirates of the Caribbean Universe

Characters:  Bucky Barnes, Natalia Romanoff, Clint Barton, Tony Stark, Wanda Maximoff, Steve Rogers, Sam Wilson, Peter Parker

Warnings for this fic: Angst, eventual smut in future chapters (slow burn), running away, profanity, violence.

Word count for this chapter: 1,759 (IM SORRY)

Captain James ‘Bucky’ Barnes was a peculiar man, how he sailed the seas for most of his 27 years. He was born at sea, he would most likely die at sea. All pirates, including those in the farthest corners of the maps, had heard of the infamous Captain. You? You were the governor’s daughter, secretly hoping to be taken out to seas and to be set free.

~

Why are you looking at me like that, dear?” Your father asked, his face bearing confusion.

Oh, do excuse me father, I was.. day dreaming… may I be excused from the dinner table?” Your father gave you a curt nod as you exited the dining hall. Your father was a Governor, therefore you lived in a luxury house, big enough to fit a whole crew of men, you could wonder the premises for hours, but growing up doing just that deemed you bored, trapped even.

Living in Port Royal gave you barely any benefits, indeed, there were beautiful landscapes to be painted, warm sand beaches to be walked upon, but it wasn’t enough. You wanted to explore further than the village fences, the harbor docks, into the sea that waved at you, tempting you to come closer, closer. You would give anything to be set free of the corsets and the courtship, to be free to roam the ocean as you please, discovering new places and the thrill of being a…nevermind.

You had heard stories of countless pirates, Captain Tony Stark of the Mighty Veronica, a large ship painted crimson and gold, with white sails and cannons filled with such powerful gunpowder one hit from a three barrel could split another vessel in half. From Captain Rogers, an ex-commodore, to Captain Romanoff with co-Captain Barton, better known as the Hawkeye of the seas due to his skills as a perfect shot with a pistol, you had heard extraordinary things from the men that survived on.

As a little girl, you were brought up by the maids in the household as your mother had died during childbirth. You barely left the god-forsaken island, it was very rare to go on even a short voyage with your father and his men, ’having a woman on board is bad luck.’ and only to return empty handed and deprived of proper contact with the outside world.

You were sheltered and innocent, men of the guard pined after for you since you grew a bust and shed your baby fat, you understood the means of their stares after you asked your chambermaid, Marie, what it meant to be a ‘tight little virgin’ as the men would whisper amongst themselves as you walked by. You knew very well what a kiss was, in fact, you had had a kiss indeed, your dear childhood friend Peter Parker had bestowed a secret kiss upon you on your 16th birthday, underneath the main dock, though there was no 'spark’ on your end, therefore you had to tell him that his feelings were unrequited, he never stopped being your friend, though.

You came to know Peter after you had saved his life, he had been thrown overboard from the ship he had been sailing on, alongside his father, had been blown up from the below deck gunpowder barrels.

“Father, look, a boy!” You had gasped, your father had rushed to your side and bellowed man overboard, a team of men upon the vessel had reeled him in and left him under your charge.

He was handsome, to say the least, as your hand brushed his forehead, he grabbed your wrist-

“I’m Y/N Y/L/N, I’m watching over you.” You spoke in a hushed tone.

The boy had coughed out a spluttered 'Peter Parker’ before falling unconscious once more.

~

Bucky Barnes was many things, wealthy, handsome, 'built like god himself’ as some women would say as he swaggered past them in the night, also a skilled thief nonetheless. But he was a shell of a man, plagued by the things he witnessed whilst sailing the doldrums of the ocean. As he moored his ship by the docks of Port Royal he briefly tipped the manager and his assistant a shilling each to keep their mouths shut about him and his men, and that his name was Captain William Pintel, he had ordered his crew to change the sails to white before they got anywhere near the border of the island the sails to white so they could conceal their identities.

He had come to trade, to drink, and maybe get a little bit of action for the night before being on his way to Haiti. He was a wanted man, he had liberated slaves when he was not supposed to, and that resulted in him becoming branded a pirate. The brand grew on him, and he became exactly what he was called, he had grown tired of trying to be the perfect man of the sea and broke the code instead, he sought trouble wherever he went and that was his way of living.

Though Port Royal was not a large area, it was densely populated and it was guarded heavily, with men walking around the village with their guns and bayonets. Bucky had his head hung low as he made his way through the crowds with one of his men, Sam, a man of colour whom Bucky had freed alongside the rest of the slaves.

He needed a sword.

~

You looked out of your window to see a dark ship rolling towards Port Royal, you could see the white sails calling to you at your bedroom window. The temptation to leave everything behind was screaming at you, beckoning you to go, liberty was practically screaming your name, bobbing up and down, you needed a disguise, you couldn’t board that bloody ship wearing a dress like this, it would blow your cover.

An idea.

You had hastily run to your kitchen and fetched a satchel and filled it with essentials. you escaped out of your household in seconds towards the blacksmiths, where Peter should be. As you neared the large wooden doors of the building, you peaked through the gap and saw nothing, heard nothing, even. So you pushed open the door, he wasn’t there, you checked in the back room where he stayed; nothing, you rummaged through a small crate and found a pair of trousers and a shirt, you slipped off your dress and underclothes and shoved them under the bed, freeing your hair from its pins and letting it fall loosely on your shoulders and changed into the borrowed clothing..

You left the room feeling a little lighter, but a weight fell onto your shoulders as you realized you needed to tell Peter where you were going, being your best friend, he deserved to know, he didn’t deserve to worry. You grabbed a piece of parchment and a bottle of ink and a quill.


Peter,

I’m sorry but by the time you read this I will be gone, I’m boarding a ship at the dock and never returning, I plan to find a new life, to branch out and roam the world to no end. I hate to leave you behind, I love you very much- the ship is black with white sails, it has a red star on the side also, if you ever need to find me, look for it.

All my love,

Y/N

P.s. Please, don’t tell my father.


You could heard the door begin to open and you legged it to the back door, you didn’t know who it was but you prayed to the gods it wasn’t Peter, it was too soon, and it was easy for him to spot you in a crowd, he would catch you instantly, so you ran.

~

Bucky sauntered into the deserted blacksmiths, he peaked around to see if anyone was in there, but it was silent, he could smell the burnt out coal and could tell it had been deserted for hours, though, he came across a freshly written letter and noticed that his ship was mentioned in said letter. He was aware he was a wanted man, what if this was a trap? What if the company knew he was here? Breadcrumbs, you had accidentally left the first, so he took the affects he needed and ran towards his ship.

A girl upon my ship, this should be interesting… Bucky thought to himself.

As he arrived to the dock he could see the red faced manager run to him, “Captain Pintel!! A girl… has boarded… your ship… Sir!!” He huffed, Bucky pushed him aside and climbed onto his vessel, making sure he was as silent as a mouse.

He looked everywhere, and there was no sign of a girl. None of his crew saw a tresspasser, and begin to move the ship out of the dock on captain’s orders.

~

You tried to still your breathing as you saw the handsome man search upon his ship for the intruder, you were hiding behind a rum barrell as he neared. You could hear his footsteps come to a halt, thinking he had given up, then you felt yourself being yanked up by the collar of your shirt, being pushed again the wall of the ship. His large hand came up and his fingers wrapped around your throat as the other rested against the sword handle on his belt all you could do was stand there.

He was strong, you dared not to move an inch incase he added pressure to the hand on your throat. You mapped his features; dark hair, full lips, tantalizing blue eyes, you realied who this man was, it was Captain James Barnes, the most wanted man on the map, you knew this because you heard stories around the village, from men and women alike.

Well, well, well, what pretty little thing do we have here?” He smirked, bringing a finger to tease one of your locks, “what’s your name, doll?

Y/N Y/L/N, s-sir.” You spluttered, you brought your hands up to try and pry his one off your throat.

Uh-oh.. the Governor’s daughter, hm? Tsk tsk, oh darling, you’re in for a- you shouldn’t dig your nails into my skin, sweetheart, I saw your little letter in the blacksmiths and I won’t hesitate to take you back sweetheart, or maybe… dump you in the middle of the ocean?” He inhaled and tightened his grip around your throat, and narrowed the proximity between both your faces.

Please- Sir I’ll do anything, please just let me come with you.” You hoped he wouldn’t turn out too bad, if he let you stay, but if he didn’t…

Well, miss Y/L/N, welcome aboard the St. Brooklyn…

~

A/N SOOOO that was the first chapter i hope you like it if people want me to continue im gonna need hella motivation!

@i-cannot-escape-this-fandom

anonymous asked:

My sisters been sending your (amazingly) written metas, but I'm still confused as to what "Performance!Dean" is. Could you explain? ❤❤❤❤❤❤

Hi! Thank you!

Performing!Dean is a tag that many of us use to explain the way that Dean portrays himself to the outside world, suppressing parts of himself that he doesn’t think should be outwardly shown.

It’s a form of SUBLIMATION (a psychological term meaning to repress emotions / a part of oneself), a term which he actually uses in 12x05.

It’s a great example. The writers KNOW that we associate Dean’s love of pie with women / being comfortable / the home and family feeling, and cake with the repressed side of him (it is repeatedly used in this context, Dean really wanting it but never allowing himself to have it or just nibbling at the edges). It’s quite a famously known concept.

So… when Sam asks Dean if he wants pie and Dean says no, which basically never happens, when Sam then looks so DONE and starts talking about how Mary is gone and… (the implication being he is about to mention Cas being gone too)… then Dean says nope nope I am FINE and Sam FINALLY calls Dean out on it, saying “Dean, it’s called SUBLIMATION”.

Originally posted by castielamigos

And Dean finally relents and says “Yeah, its kinda my thing”. (And then later in the diner he is seen to have eaten a whole slice of cake in front of Sam and no-one makes a big deal out of it….)

WE ALL SCREAMED. DEAN ACTUALLY IN THE SCRIPT, OUT LOUD, HAS SAID THAT HE SUBLIMATES.

Because THIS is Dabb again taking what has been IN THE SCRIPT and in the show for 12 years and building on it, making it BLATANT. Because we are building to endgame now, SPN isn’t likely to last past season 13-14, so the character arcs that were set up in season 1 (and 4 for Cas) need to be tied up, so we, the audience NEED it to be made obvious when it has just been in the subtext. THAT IS WHY SO MUCH IS SO BLATANT THIS SEASON. Ie Performing!Dean, Destiel, Sam and the MoL story, Mary being the catalyst for Dean’s self acceptance arc and Sam’s self forgiveness arc around Lucifer (which I think will be much more blatant next season re: Jack as his mirror).

With Performing!Dean it started to be made a bit more obvious since Sam told Dean that he was ‘kind of butch’ and people probably thought he was ‘overcompensating’ in season 2 but it still stayed subtext, Dean checking out a few guys here and there, only really getting with women when he was having his ‘I’m going to go to Hell and need comfort’ or ‘Sam is dead, Cas left’ moments or since he met Cas, whenever Cas had left, making Dean feel crappy and rejected or had just DIED, using it as a coping mechanism, even blatantly role playing in season 9 after he feels so bad about kicking Cas out of the bunker etc to the point that in 12x18 it is so blatant that this is what it is about, they even have Dean saying outloud that he is settling for Sam’s omelette mere seconds after clearly having settled for the waitress because she wasn’t what he really wanted on top of all the other give aways…

Anyway, it’s not just about his sexuality or feelings for Cas, there are many other aspects too, and those are the ones that are cemented in seasons 1-3. Most of these seem all to stem from John and if you see snippets from John’s journal it makes sense.

John says he is proud of Dean when he kills monsters, womanises, drinks etc etc. So guess what a young impressionable Dean learned was the best way to act in life?

Now, over the years bits have come out here and there. Every time we see Dean with a sexual partner he has been the submissive one, he is clearly an extremely giving lover and very caring. He is not a dude bro womaniser at heart, he cares for all the women he sleeps with enough to be kind and gentle with them, even the waitress in 12x18 who really he doesn’t REALLY CARE about, she’s just a coping mechanism, but he is still extremely sweet with her.

He drinks for years of course, he is a functioning alcoholic for most of the show, but lately he has switched to coffee… unless something really bad is going down. Like when we saw the empty bottle in his room in 12x19…

He listens to old rock music because it reminds him of his mom and dad, not because he is a real metal head. Yeah absolutely he loves it too I’m sure, but really it’s the emotional pull. And we haven’t heard him do so since 12x07. Just saying. He also admits to liking Taylor Swift in season 10, after firstly saying HELL NO, same with the cucumber water in 12x07. It’s not the music or the water or whatever as such, that is absolutely NOT what we are saying is making us feel Dean is bisexual or has a hidden side to himself, its the fact that he HIDES it first then admits to it afterwards, that is the essence of Performing!Dean.

When Sam drinks the cucumber water, no-one batted an eyelid, that means nothing to us, because Sam is super comfortable with who he is in THIS respect, even though he carries guilt etc, but that is another subject. But because Dean made a huge deal about how uncool and basically unmanly it was, after all we know of him over the years, THEN went and drank it anyway, saying “shut up” when Sam is like “seriously?!” THAT is where the Performing!Dean meta comes from. And Sam is the same as us, he doesn’t care if Dean is bi, or if he likes Taylor Swift or cucumber water or WHATEVER, what he DOES care about is the fact that Dean feels the need to hide it from him.

There are so many small points along the series that point to a lot of Dean’s persona being fake or exaggerated and how sometimes Sam knows and sometimes he doesn’t, it would be funny if it wasn’t tragic.

Deep down Dean Winchester is a soft, kind and generous soul who just wants to be loved and to help people.

WHICH IS EXACTLY WHAT WE SAW IN 12x11. THIS IS THE EXPOSITION EPISODE FOR PERFORMING!DEAN AND THE CORE OF THIS WHOLE SEASON BECAUSE THE WHOLE SEASON HAS BEEN ABOUT THIS, WHICH IS WHY 12x22 IS THE CHARACTER LED FINALE, BECAUSE IT IS WHERE THIS FINALLY COMES DOWN.

Originally posted by disneyandthefamilybusiness

So yeah, the fact of the matter is that Performing!Dean has been there all along, since the PILOT, over the years it has been showed to us that it exists then some of the walls have started coming down. If anyone dares to tell me that Performing!Dean isn’t a thing (which I was told earlier this season, lmao) then I will kindly point them towards 12x11 and 12x22.

Also, let us not forget that even though 12x11 was mostly an exposition for Performing!Dean when he lost his memories, again harking back to the HEART is the person, NOT their memories theme of the season, we also were given the golden snippet that DEAN RODE LARRY BEFORE HE GOT WACKED WITH MAGIC. This is to show us that Dean’s walls are coming down this season. When Sam called him up on it in a way that seemed to be taking the piss, Dean, rather than attempt to deny or tell him to shut up actually embraced it and gloated about how GOOD he was at it. ATTA BOY DEAN!

With the resurrection of Mary and Dean’s near - complete death experience it seems that Dean got to the point in season 12 where he just didn’t want to hide from himself anymore and so let these walls down further, there were small snippets of this in nearly EVERY episode. 

12x11 was the exposition for casual viewers to see this side of him more clearly (in the same way that 12x19 was for Dean and Cas’s clearly more than platonic relationship, which will not be built on with HUGE LEGO BRICKS since Cas died), and now with the grenade launcher as a metaphor, Dean literally blew down his walls in 12x22. The culmination of this story was his confrontation with Mary where he explains WHY he always had this facade, because he had a shitty childhood, had to be a parent to Sam and that it wasn’t FAIR and he didn’t cope with it well at all.

So. There we have it. Performing!Dean is REAL, it was there ALL ALONG, we were RIGHT in seeing it because it is confirmed in 12x11 and then addressed and to some extent dismantled in 12x22, and the meta idea that the grenade launcher is associated with Performing!Dean was ALSO used.

Just… wowzers.

Originally posted by itsokaysammy

I don’t expect Dean to suddenly act completely differently now, he won’t, there are just some aspects of him that will be slightly more obvious or he won’t hide certain parts of himself. He still isn’t completely done with this, as Jensen himself said that there will be more of this to come in season 13…

I expect him to perhaps once or twice order a slice of cake or an ice cream sundae, to listen to the radio and not turn it over if a pop song comes on, to be more open with his feelings towards his family (and yeah, Destiel is a part of this for sure), a nice turn around but also not jarring, because it’s just a PART of Dean, not his whole self, a lot of what we see is really fully him, so it’s not that he is going to completely radically change!

Anyway, its all very exciting as the metaphorical death of Performing!Dean is just a part of what most of us see as a positive endgame for TFW and it is all looking pretty good so far :D

Supertuned

Ok, so this is a imagine that I’ve had in my head for a while now. Enjoy, My Lovelies. xx

Tag list: @hamartiamacguffin @illisea @thegreatficmaster @lovemesomepie85 @torn-and-frayed

If you want me to add you to my tag list, shoot me through a message and let me know. 

Dean looked up as the Y/C/H hunter walked into the viewing room. Her hair fell loosely around her face, the soft Hollywood curls framing it perfectly. His eyes wandered over her body, the way her jeans hugged her arse perfectly, the black tank she wore that was slightly see through, the deep red bra underneath that showed off some of her best assets. Her silver cross hung down over the top of her breasts, the diamonds shining in the light. Her heels clicked on the polished concrete floor, he glanced down at the ankle boots, that was a new looked. The look was Y/N all over, but a sexed up Y/N. He frowned at the duffels in her hand.

‘Hunt?’

Keep reading

interrupted (m) part V


pairing: reader x ???

genre: idek anymore angst? smut?  (i promise there will be more smut in the upcoming chapters)

summary: part 5 of this trash i call a series

word count: 3.9k (specifics: 3,942)

warnings/triggers: fighting, swearing, sexual stuff…


I love you.

Jimin didn’t know what to feel. Did she mean it? Or am I just a second choice… 

The surrounding silence was nauseating, he felt her shift knowing he had to say something but what? He knew one thing for certain and couldn’t lie about it…

I love you too y/n.he couldn’t deny that.

A million thoughts raced through his head as he lay beside you patting the crown of your head gently, staring up at the dark ceiling. He wanted to believe you… but just couldn’t yet. He was always second place to Jungkook. If Jungkook didn’t fuck up, would you still have had said it to him.

He knew it wasn’t the best time to ask if you had meant it, but with his heart ringing in his ears and a tiny voice gnawing at the corners of his mind, he had to ask…  

Mustering up enough courage, he took a deep breathe about to tell you- but bit his tongue when you laid a chaste kiss on his chest. He couldn’t ask now…

Right now, he just wanted to revel in this moment with you; where he was surrounded by your scent, feeling your breath fan against his skin, letting his fingers tangle through the strands of your hair and laying in each other’s warmth as you both settled down to go to sleep.

Goodnight y/n.” He sighed, internally wishing that morning would never come, and drawing you closer.

Goodnight Jimin.” you yawned, nestling closer to him and shutting your eyes to sleep.

-

The early shades of dawn filtered through the curtains and the incessant buzz of your phone awoke you. If it weren’t for Jimin’s sleepy face being the first thing that you saw through heavy lids, you would’ve of been in the absolute worst mood, but seeing him soundlessly asleep with the amber tint, of the early rising sun, kissing his skin, made you lips curl into a small smile as you unravelled yourself from Jimin’s limp grip and grabbing your phone from your bomber.

From Hana:

Please tell me you’re not too hungover to work today…

From Hana:

I need you :(( boss gave me the whole 11 hours… BY MYSELF >:((

To Hana:

no no i’m completely sober… shoot me.

To Hana:

i’ll come in today, i have a lot to tell you…

From Hana:

SPILL. and THANK YOUUU <3

Jimin stirred on the bed, you looked up to see him upright with furrowed brows and barely opened lids.

Morning.” you smiled.

It’s cold… what time is it?Why are you up?” he rasped, scratching the back of his neck.

7:14am

It’s so early.” he groaned, “do you have work?

Mhmm” You hummed in reply, as you walked up to the bed, leaning over to kiss Jimin’s puffy cheek.

y/n…” he whispered scratchily.

Yeah?

He bit his lip, as you perched onto the edge of the soft mattress. His hesitation made your stomach stir slightly.

We need to talk about… this.

What do you mean?” you blinked, that feeling in your stomach become more prominent.

I don’t want to say this, especially not right now… But I can’t ignore it and I can’t let it go on.

What is goin-

Do you really love me?” He blurted. Instantly looking guilty.

Your stomach dropped. You felt the colour drain from your face. What? 

I want to believe you y/n. I really do. But i- i- just don’t know. Something in my head is telling me, that this happened by luck or chance or- or something. That if Jungkook didn’t…you know… you wouldn’t be feeling this way.” You bit the inside of your cheek, at his words. “Please say something so i don’t feel awful.

I-um…” You swallowed thickly. Were you really sure how you felt? Was what Jimin said true?I should get ready for work… Get some sleep okay” You smiled, but Jimin noticed how it didn’t reach your eyes.

I’m sorry.” he muttered, although it felt like a huge weight lift of his shoulders, a vacant look took over his eyes as he watched you disappear behind the locked bathroom door. He groaned as he sank back into bed. He felt so bad. what if he had just fucked up everything with you… But he just couldn’t take how it felt so… forced; Of course he wanted this with you, he always had… but not when it was like this.

-

Hearing the bell of the coffee shop door, you truly felt as if you could finally breathe. It was like you held your breath as you got ready and crept out the house, not making any possible noise that could wake Jimin up.

Happy birthday.” Hana grinned as she handed you a gift bag. You laughed opening the glittery bag and pulling out what was inside.

More alcohol. Love it.” you joked as you put your stuff away in the cloakroom.

6 slow hours passed, with barely anyone entering the shop. Which gave you plenty of time to catch up with Hana, in between serving the odd customer; and of course that meant telling her everything.

Woah… So… Jungkook and Jimin.” She slowly summarised, more to make sense in her head than to clarify.

Yep.” you sighed.

You hoe.” She joked, lifting up the mood in the empty coffee shop.

Shut the fuck up Hana.”  You replied as you both turned into raging fits of laughter.

Is that Minah as in Kwon Minah?

Um, yeah, why?” You asked, eyebrows arched.

I think I’m going to start working with her tonight…

What?

Yeah, she works at a bar, not at all far from here. I just got a part-time there, and i’m starting tonight.

You slowly nodded, internally wondering how the world was so small that something like that would happen…

Y/n… I get Minah’s pretty and everything, but I don’t understand why Jungkook would do that to you… It just… doesn’t…  add up.

Minah’s a solid 10 and i’m a 2 at best.” You protested, “But i get what you mean, I don’t understand how he could just-

Well i think you’re about to find out…” She whispered, eyes bulging. Following where she subtly pointed at. You turned, your eyes flinching as they caught his. You swallowed harshly, your toes curling into your shoes. You didn’t look up at all, your eyes stood ground,trained onto the cash register.

Welcome to the mocha lab, can i take your order.” You curtly said, fighting temptation to look him, it wasn’t that you didn’t want to, but it was like you physically couldn’t bring yourself to look at him.

y/n.

that voice. it just made you want to burst out in tears, as if the uneasy feeling you had in your stomach didn’t want to make to throw up and faint already.

Order something or get out.” you spat, out of the corner of your eye you even saw Hana backing away from the counter and into the cloakroom.

You have every right to hate me but I just need to tal-

Jungkook.” You warned. “I really fucking can’t right now.” You tried so hard to keep the tears at bay.

I’m sorry y/n-” You bit your lip so hard to keep yourself together that you could faintly start to taste blood. “-but please. talk to me.” His voice was so… so… broken. “please y/n i’m begging you. please… i miss you.

Although it was so painful to hear him beg like that, and you still needed answers. You knew you couldn’t. It physically hurt to be near him. Your mind was screaming for an explanation and wanted to just jump in his arms and forgive him… but the heart remembers what the brain forgets… and it raced inside your ribcage, like how it felt when you saw the mess of clothes on the floor, storming in on him and Minah…

I’m going to have to ask you to leave.” You could barely finish the sentence as your voice started to break. After a couple seconds of silence in his hesitation you heard his slow heavy footsteps leave the place.

You immediately sank behind the corner bawling. Hana sprinted over, taking your shivering figure in her arms.

sshh, its okay, shhh.” she whispered as you took deep breaths. “that was so brave. I’m so proud of you.

thank you” you whimpered as you steadily composed yourself. “I can’t even look at him.” you laughed, but inside your heart was straining, as his broken voice rang throughout your mind. “I don’t know if I could ever speak to him again…

As much as i hate to say it… and i totally get you, but you need to talk to him. You need answers y/n… it’s the only way you can really know how you truly feel for either of them. Because it’s not fair on you and it’s not fair on Jimin” 

she was right.

You bit your quivering lip, thinking about Jimin. You couldn’t deny that there was attraction there. And last night. Last night. He put you first in front of everything, he was hurt too but made sure you were the one okay. With him, it’s genuine. It’s decided. It’s real. It’s there. He wouldn’t change his mind or even think to ever betray you like Jungkook. With Jimin before and after the whole Jungkook mess, you felt loved, platonically and romantically. he was your safe haven.

y/n?” Hana said, snapping back into reality. By then you stopped crying. She helped you stand back up. “Are you okay?” she asked, to which you nodded in reply. “I’ll lock up, go home my love, get some rest.” She insisted and you thanked her as you both headed to the cloakroom to get your things.

Good luck with the new barmaid job.” you called out from the door before you left. She gave you small smile as you shut the door.

-

The sun had set ages ago because of winter, the street were dully lit with street lamps. You pulled your jacket tighter, sighing watching your breath condense and float idly upward. You began the walk home, pulling out your earphones and listening to music. A few steps in, you felt as if someone was following you, you pulled an earphone out and turned to look behind. Your eyes scanned the seemingly deserted street. You felt uneasy, so you abandoned the music as you cautiously continued home.

This time you heard the footsteps, growing faster and faster, and before you could break out into a run you felt a hand grab your wrist. On instinct you turned, and kicked the figure in the genitals. You watched as a familiar figure sink onto the floor bracing themselves in their affected area.

FOR FUCKS SAKE JUNGKOOK!” you screamed, heart racing, annoyed at the fact he had just given you one of the biggest heart attacks of your life.

Okay… I deserved that…” he rasped and he stood up again.

you huffed, but at least this time you could actually look at him without wanting to cry.

Please can we just talk again.” He whined. “I get you hate me. I get you never want to see me again. But please. I don’t want to never see or talk to you again on how things ended.

You felt his stare on you as you remained silent, with your arms folded. You did deserve an explanation.

You have 10 minutes.” You murmured.

A smile lit up Jungkook’s face. It felt so weird, like you hadn’t seen the Jungkook you fell so hard for until now… like he was someone completely different when he slept with Minah. Maybe it was your stubborn delusional heart that wanted to believe that he didn’t because you believed he wouldn’t. It made you just want to delve into his arms and forget that everything happened. But you couldn’t. Because it did.

He grabbed your hand but you flinched away.

This doesn’t mean we’re okay.” You warned.

His face dropped but still, he gave a small smile, “Just follow me then.

Although you looked down to the pavement, you felt his stare on you. He led you down some familiar streets and you couldn’t help but wonder where he was taking you, and why.

You do realise you have 7 minutes left right?” You tutted, finally rolling your eyes and keeping eye contact with him.

We’re here.” He sighed. And when you looked round, you were stunned at where he led you. How did you not notice? This was the park you, Jungkook and Jimin used to always play at when you were children. You subconsciously smiled and walked further in, as if gravity was pulling you there. You were drawn to the swings, and you reminiscently ran your fingers down the metal chain. “How are we for time?” Jungkook grinned, interrupting your flashbacks.

You cleared your throat, embarrassed that you got lost in your thoughts when you should’ve been mad.

Why are we here. This doesn’t change anything.” You spat keeping up the defensive facade, eyebrows knit together.

It’s obvious you remember this place.

Well done for stating the obvious. 5 minutes left Kook.” You scoffed.

Kook.” He laughed and you internally kicked yourself for letting that slip. “Okay, we’re getting somewhere.

You groaned in vexation, like a little kid throwing a tantrum. He sat down on one of the swings and signalled that you do the same. You hesitantly took the other one, but he smiled in victory when you did.

4 minutes.” You warned. His smile dropping once again.

I brought you here, because I need you to remember it.” You furrowed your brows, at his words. It wasn’t until you followed his gaze to the castle play structure, that you shivered. You remember it now.

~

It was your 6th birthday and you were here with Jimin and Jungkook, it was oddly sunny for a winter day and so the park was crowded with small children like yourselves.

Jimin was racing ahead, climbing up the the ropes to get to the top tower where Jungkook already was, and because you didn’t want to be left alone you followed them up, at a much slower pace, because of your scrawny figure and lack of upper body strength. You had always feared heights but you feared being alone more; and so you struggled and slipped your way to the top where they were.

It was when you got up, you had realised how high you were and panic began to set in. You burst out into tears and Jimin and Jungkook didn’t know what to do.

Go get y/n’s mum.” Jungkook nodded to Jimin, who set off instantly. He then turned to you, who was quivering on the platform. He crouched down. “It’s okay.” He smiled but you just wouldn’t stop screaming and crying. He himself panicked, it was your birthday and he didn’t know what to do and did something impulsively and without thought. He reached forward, grabbed your face and kissed you. You were in a state of complete and utter shock, you forgot about crying. You just stood bug-eyed with Jungkook smushing his face against yours. When Jungkook let go, a huge grin took over his small face. “It worked!” he cheered, while you just remained still, frozen in place as you realised: you just had just both had your first kisses with each other.

~

You remembered how after, it was like you couldn’t breathe, your heart was going more than 200 miles per hour. You felt a mad hot blush spread throughout your wind-pinched cheeks.

You remember.” He muttered spotting the tinge of red upon the tops of your ears and cheeks.

J-Jungkook-I-

Look I know nothing I say will ever make up for what I did to you last night y/n. I don’t know why I did it and god I feel so stupid… I know that’s pathetic of me to say, but she was my first ever love, so she had this sort of hold on me and when she came to the house in tears and a blubbering mess and just kissed me… It felt like that moment on the top of the tower and I just didn’t know what to do and I acted on impulse, I forgot about everything like an idiot and ugh… And this-this is going to sound fucked up and unbelievable-but I swear, all I thought about was you.

You don’t expect me to just fall for that are you.” You scoffed.

Not in the slightest. And I wouldn’t blame you if you just left right now either. But I just wanted you to know it was a mistake and I’m so sorry and if i could tell my 6 year old self, I would’ve made you mine right there and then.” Looking into his empty eyes, it broke your heart. “I know it doesn’t make sense, and i fucked up beyond repair but… I love you y/n and I still want you.” Tears started streaming down his face and you felt so guilty that tears started to well in your eyes. In that moment, Jungkook grabbed your wrist, you excelled forward and he pressed his lips against yours; and just as you were about to give into the temptation of melting into the kiss, he pulled away. “I’m not going to keep you any longer.” He muttered, but held you a little longer. “Goodnight my love.” He whispered before he walked away. You bit the inside of your lip as you watched his back disappear into the night.

-

You groaned as you opened the front door to the apartment, tossing your bag and Hana’s gifted wine on the couch. The walk home was miserable. You were more confused with how you felt for either of them.

Jimin?” You called out, but was met with silence. You got your phone out and realised you had 5 missed calls and 14 texts from him. At least he didn’t just leave… Still you were overwhelmed with incoming feelings, you flopped onto your bed, you felt as if you could just bawl for hours just to release everything. You wanted to scream at how confusing and fucked up things were. You shot a text at Jimin saying you were home and if he could come back after Jaebum’s ‘guy’s night’, you took of your coat and threw it onto the floor, but it landed with a slight thud that made you jump slightly. The only thing in your jacket was your phone. Curiousity flooded your sense so you jumped up and fished something out of your pocket.

It was a small gift-bag labelled:

It was meant for yesterday - kook

-

Hana POV.

Hana had worried about you getting home, on her walk to the bar. She had just gotten out of one uniform and wasn’t at all excited to jump into a new one. The laid back buzz of the bar lifted her spirits slightly, as she entered, the overall decoration and atmosphere was surprisingly relaxed than what you would expect from a normal one. is this like high class level for a bar?

Hana Kim?

She nodded as she turned to the voice, finding Minah leaning over the bar counter.

You’re late.

She was taken back by Minah’s bratty attitude. It’s literally 7:17. i was 2 minutes late. For matter of first impressions and the sake of actually keeping the job, she answered with,

I’m sorry.

Yeah, don’t be late again.” Minah snapped. I’m going to kill her… Hana thought as she put up a tight lipped smile and nodded.

Here’s your uniform, change in the staff toilets for today, but we expect you to show up in that. okay?

And again… because her mother had taught her ‘if you don’t have anything nice to say, don’t say anything at all.’… she just smiled and nodded.

-

The uniform wasn’t anything special, but it was formal: a white collared shirt, dress pants, black suspenders and a gold name badge. She fixed her hair and re-touched on her makeup before hanging her stuff up in the cloakroom and finally finding her place behind the bar counter.

It wasn’t long till Minah came back from serving a table, coming back to train her on how to make different cocktails, where the different glasses were kept, which tables were where and more on the job.

Got it all.” Minah smiled, more out of common courtesy, but it was easily readable in her eyes that she did not like Hana one bit.

Yeah, thank you.there came the tight lipped smile again.

Any questions, just come find me.” Minah added before slipping away to a table. As if… Hana rolled her eyes as she walked back to her place at the bar counter.

Can I get a- Oh my god, Hana.

She looked up to find Jimin with a half smile and half surprised look on his face.

Hey.” She smiled back.

You work here now? What happened to The Mocha Lab barista job with y/n?

That’s for the daytime, i work here at-

Jimin hi!” Minah sang, shoving herself in front of you. Where the fuck did she come from? she was all the way at the other side of the room??. Hana internally laughed at the scene. “What can I get you~” Minah carried on. This is disgusting, Hana thought, backing up, it was clear Minah didn’t want her there.

Um Hana’s already getting me a whiskey on the rocks thanks.” Jimin replied, making Hana stop with Minah shooting daggers at her.

Hana… darling.darling?Could you get some more Whiskey glasses from the back?” Although it may have sounded nice, her stare made it seem like an order. Hana glanced down and saw a whole row of Whiskey glasses by Minah’s knees. But to avoid anything happening, she just did as she was told.

Hana came back with a tray of Whiskey glasses and placed them on the counter by Minah.

Oh my bad, I forgot we had a whole row of them…” Minah faked laughed, making Hana sick… “Just stack them with the rest.

Where’s Jimin?” Hana asked, hiding her sarcasm, sounding like she actually want to start a conversation, whilst she organised the decorative glasses.

Back there with his friends.” Minah replied ogling at the table in the far right corner. “we’re like a thing.

Hana wanted to burst out laughing… Jimin was with you (well ish) only one boy makes that mistake and that just so happened to be Jungkook already. Jimin wouldn’t ever.

Really…” Hana gasped, secretly enjoying the fact Minah was oblivious to the fact Hana knew everything. Hana stood up again from crouching, readying her phone in her pocket to sneak off and tell you everything. “I need the loo, excuse me.” and when Minah nodded, she was off.

Hana rushed into the bathroom ringing you. Pick up, pick up, pick up, this is so funny…

I’m sorry but the person you’re calling-

Hana sulked as she tried again, but with no answer, she contemplated texting you but wanted to wait to tell you in person to see your reaction.

She walked back to the bar, surprised to find Minah not there.

Where’d she go?

And that’s when Hana heard her shrill giggle. She looked to where it came from and fell gob-smacked at the sight.

Hana didn’t want to believe it, but seeing the way Jimin’s arms wrapped around Minah’s figure as they kissed, Hana raised her phone…

To y/n:

image_032


a/n: WHAT DID I JUST DO. I HATE MYSELF… 

TELL ME WHAT YOU THINK!!!

RE-BLOG AND LIKE FOR PART 6

THANK YOU FOR YOUR LOVE, PATIENCE AND SUPPORT <3

and of course: stay horny, stay shook, and stay safe ;)

eliza out

-e 

jq

the anonymous wall (teenlock)

Based off this headcanon  (from @grumpy-swoop)

Read it on ao3


Mike had known that something good would come out of this stupid Anonymous Confession Wall, and now he had proof. Amongst all the I spent thirty-two hours watching a tv show for seven-year olds last weekends and the If you’re reading this, go to the corner of the boys bathroom on the third floor near the chem labs and the cute doodles, there was the smallest, shyest, and most interesting confession.

I’m gay and hopelessly in love with the rugby captain

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