this girl could wear a paper sack and i was still live for her

Close as Strangers

Close as Strangers: Chapter One

You were happy it was your last year of school. That was until you had to start tutoring your old best friend, Jeon Jungkook. Otherwise known as “Mr. Popular.” 

Word count: 5.6k

Genre: High School au, angst

This was my 5sos story I started on Wattpad but I wanted to do a BTS version.

{Playlist} Parts: one | two | three | four | five | six | seven |eight | nine | ten | eleven | twelve


It was August 20th, the first day of senior year. You were pretty excited, you honestly felt this was going to be a great year. You guess you were also happy this was the last year of high school. You got up and turned off your alarm. Your phone read, 7:15. You’d only lived a couple of  minutes away from school, so you could afford to sleep in a little more.

You got up and grabbed your uniform out of your closet. Yet another reason to be excited about this school year, you only had to wear this god awful thing one more year. You got dressed and went to the bathroom, going through your morning routine. Once you were done and ready you grabbed your backpack and headed downstairs. You went into the kitchen and saw your mom and dad eating breakfast.

Your dad looked up from the paper, “Y/N, look at you. You’re up before noon, how does that feel,” his smile was contagious.

“Forced,” You smiled.  

He laughed and went back to his paper. “Y/N,” your mom spoke.

“Yes ma'am?”

She walked over to the table handing you two paper sacks. “Your and Yoongi’s lunch for today.”

You smiled and looked up at her, “Thanks Mom.”

“Sure,” she spoke as she sat down at the table. You’d started to eat some toast that was on the table when Yoogi rushed in.

“Sorry I’m late,” Yoongi shouted from the hallway as he came into the kitchen.

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birdlovesafish  asked:

May I request a Photographer Jughead and a Modeling to pay her way through college Betty fic pretty please? With Betty becoming Jug's muse?

Girls On Film: Part 1

Summary: After insulting every major supermodel in the business, world renowned fashion photographer, Jughead Jones, is paired with up-and-coming model, Betty Cooper. 

Words: 2,966

Warnings: Swearing and drinking. 

A/N: I know nothing about the modelling/photography world. Most of my knowledge comes from America’s Next Top Model. I’m really sorry this is so long. Also, I have nothing against any of the models mentioned in this story. 

Part 2 is here. This is also on AO3

I also edited this myself so prepare for errors. 


“Cara cancelled.” Veronica Lodge informed her boss Jughead Jones.

“Why?” He asked, a hint of annoyance in his tone. He looked at a variety of different lenses with his assistant photographer, Sabrina Spellmen, a tiny, blonde wannabe photographer.

“She found out you were the one shooting and pulled out.” Veronica gathered her dark brown hair into a ponytail, faking nonchalance as she waited for more questions from the world most sought after fashion photographer.

“Why would she do that?” He questioned, handing Sabrina suitcases full of equipment. “We took such beautiful pictures together.” He lied.

“She doesn’t really remember it that way.” Veronica crossed her jean clad legs, letting her foot bounce. “She remembers a large argument where you called her ‘a fucking brain dead meat sack with a pretty face’ and she told you to go fuck yourself and then you called her a cunt.” Veronica raised her eyebrows. “Do you remember that, Jug? Cause I do and apparently so does Cara and she didn’t take so kindly to it.”

He placed his clenched fists on the table. “I asked her to look wistful and I asked her if she knew what that meant and she nodded.” He turned to look at Veronica. “And instead of wistful, I got constipated. Thank god she’s beautiful and I could salvage the shoot.” He pulled on his suspenders as he walked around his bright living room. “How about instead of giving the models free clothes at the end of each shoot we hand them a fucking dictionary.” He ran his hands through his hair. “Its bullshit, they go on about my temper but does anyone say anything about their mediocrity? Just because they are hot doesn’t mean they are models. We aren’t just selling clothes, we are selling a lifestyle and if I can’t get girls who can take direction then I can’t do my job.” He untied his flannel button down from around his waist, discarding it on the bed. “I need girls with fire in their eyes.”

“Well, I’m not sure what you are getting today but I’ve heard good things.” Veronica stood up and pulled out a portfolio. She placed it on the coffee table and pushed it over to him. “She walked the runway for Dolce and Gabanna, Elie Saab and Dior last season.”

“I don’t give a shit about runway.” He snapped approaching her.

“She’s a former ballerina but she quit because she was too tall.”

“How tall?”

“Six feet and because she used to dance she’s very flexible and good with her body.” Veronica informed.  “She’s done editorial in Vogue, Elle, W and Paper Magazine.”  

“Let me see her face.”

Veronica moved out of the way and let him browse the portfolio. The first thing Jughead noticed was her body, you could tell how tall she was without scale and Veronica was right, she knew how to move and pose it. The only problem was the photographers didn’t know to photograph her properly. They made her look awkward and gangly.

He turned the page to see a shot of just her face. Her blonde hair was slicked back and she had honey running down her face, dripping off her eyelashes and mouth. She had a strong jaw line, cheekbones that most models would die for, pouty lips, and green-blue eyes that looked like that were churning in the still image.

That is what he wanted. That was fire.

“What’s her name?” He asked.

“Elizabeth Cooper,” Veronica said looking at her nails.

“And we have her?” Jughead moved away from the table and grabbed his bag.

“She is on site right now in hair and make-up, waiting for you.” Veronica packed everything up realizing they were about to leave. Sabrina was piling bags and boxes up near the door.

“This is what I’m talking about.” He pointed at the portfolio. “Finally a model I can actually work with.” He grabbed his sunglasses and slung his bag over his shoulder. “I should start calling people cunts more often, this really worked out for me.” He grinned.

“I really wish you wouldn’t.” Veronica muttered, as the three of them left his house and headed to the site.

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anonymous asked:

Grapholagnia :)

Send me a word and I will write a drabble

Grapholagnia - The urge to stare at obscene pictures.

Are you the Anon who sent the request for mentally undressing also? I’m working on it. It may actually be a follow-on to this one. I sense that someone wants me to write smut…

Let me just say: I REGRET NOTHING!!! RATED M for ogling, drooling, disobedient pants, and potential future continuations.


The giggling draws me in. The girlish, bubbling noise out of place with the scent of chemical cleaners and formaldehyde that still lingers in the air. They scramble as they sense my approach, aware of their impending doom in the last second as I hold my hand out expectantly and confiscate the folder concealing whatever has distracted them from Rue’s hands. She averts her eyes, her cheeks darkening with an embarrassed flush as she hands it over to me.

“Please continue your work,” I calmly state in my best teacher voice.

“Yes, Miss Everdeen,” Rue and Sasha whisper in unison, bending their heads over their desks, pencils scratching away, completing their lab reports. With a satisfied nod, I return to the board, detailing their homework assignment as my class continues their quiet work.

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sleeping-enthusiast  asked:

can you pls pls pls pls do number 52. THANK YOU LOVE YOUR WRITING

Thank you love!   Prompt was “I think you might be pregnant.”  Enjoy!!

“I think you might be pregnant.”

“That’s not funny.”

“I’m not trying to be funny.”

“I’m not pregnant.”

“You’ve woken up every morning this week and ended up in the bathroom.”

“I was…”  You racked your brain trying to come up with a reason for why you’d made a bee-line for the bathroom each time you’d woken up (and a few times in the middle of the night, but Harry didn’t need to know about that).  You shook your head, giving up on trying to come up with an explanation, “It’s unchivalrous to tell a lady you heard her puking.”

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@pottergenes

a comprehensive list of my childhood weirdness:

1. every time i would say something to someone else I would immediately replay it in my head (and also mouth it) so i was basically a ghost

2. i habitually ate paper. like sheets of paper. until college.

3. i would stand on my dresser and jump off and try to fly across the room and i S2G one time i actually flew and i will fight you on this

4. some of them are actually dark and sad so i will leave them here :)

5. i would also wear grocery sacks like parachutes and jump off the roof of my dad’s truck in an attempt to fly

6. okay this one is so disgusting i can’t even with my child self just don’t read if you are grossed out i am warning you this is gross and how did i not get diseases idk. at restuarants, or at school, or wherever i was, i would pick under tables and desks for gum and if i found it i would pry it off and chew it. i know. unfollow. i am trash. (i was this is not a habit i carry over thank fuck and i had actually forgotten about this until i sat down to make this list)

7. as a small child i was obssesed with nick at night which was like old 60s shows like mary tyler moore and dick van dyke 

8. when i lived in a trailer park (classy, yes) all the mailboxes were in rows and would switch stuff in mailboxes just to be a fucker

9. my favorite hiding place in the entire world was in the middle of this lilac bush which was also an inconvenient fort since i was fucking terrified and also allergic to bees

10. as a vry small girl, when i was still terrified of the dark, the only way i could fall asleep was if either the bodyguard soundtrack or some random kenny g album was playing in my room (also, i was like 10 or 11 when i realized CDs belonged face up so as if i ever saw one face down i would very helpfully correct it to face up so you could see what album it was)

11. i used my mom’s dildo as a microphone (but OBVIOUSLY I didn’t KNOW IT WAS A DILDO WTF MOM HIDE THAT SHIT)(actually she did hide it in a sock in her sock drawer but i was a nosy fucker)

12. also i would go into my mom’s dresser and snoop b/c her bottom drawer was all of our childhood drawings and art pieces and i would get nostalgic about my childhood from 2 yrs before

oh god i think that’s all (but i also think that’s enough)