Hues of orange and brown glinted against the gray of the pavement as you made your way to your Seoul University dorm. The soft crunch of leaves under your feet left you giddy while you beam over to your not-as-excited best friend, Jeon Jungkook took the box from your hands. A soft scoff escapes his lips as he observes your cheerful attitude.
“You’re going to drop everything if you continue to act like that,” He chuckles softly before patting your head. The curves of his lips meet
“Are you sure that you don’t want to just live together?” Jungkook suggested as he dropped your box onto the floor of your Seoul University dorm. His hair fell over his eyes as he stretched to work the kinks out of his back.
"Jungkook, we hang out pretty much every day all day. Don’t you think living together would be a bit much?“ You asked while carrying the box with all of your school items from over the years.
At your response, Jungkook rolled his eyes, “Well excuse me for trying to get closer to my best friend.” He took the box from your hands and set it down beside your bed. “-and besides, can you blame me? I don’t want to live with any more guys. My brother ruined it for me.”
“Jeon Jungkook,” You placed your hands on his shoulders. “I don’t know if you realize this or not with the questionable amount of girl group dances you do, but you are a guy.” You stated matter of factly.
Jungkook shrugged your hands off his shoulders. “Ha, ha, you’re so funny.” He rolled his eyes again before raising his brows. “I almost forgot, I got you something.”
“Jungkook, you didn’t have to-”
“I wanted to. Now close your eyes and turn around.” Jungkook shushes you once he swings you around and moved your hair from your shoulders.
You shiver from the cold material against your neck before opening your eyes. “Jungkook-” You cry to the ravenette who stands behind you, smirking that smug look that you publicly chastised but secretly adored.
“I wanted to get you something for coming to Seoul with me. You didn’t have to come but you did and-”
Jungkook was caught off by a high pitched squeal. “Are you, Y/N? I’m Hyejin, your roommate.” A pretty brunette girl came into your vision once you turned around to face you.
“Hi, I’m Y/N. It’s nice to meet you.” You smiled at her softly, holding your hand out. What first caught your eye was a shimmer from her wrist, a charm bracelet, caught your eyes at once. A calligraphic ‘H’ adorned the center charm.
Hyejin’s eyes traveled over to Jungkook, who gaped at her almost. “And who’s this pretty boy?” She tilted her head to send him a smile.
“Jeon, Jeon Jungkook, my idiot best friend since diapers.” You laugh as Jungkook glared at you before winking back at her. “Careful, don’t let his pretty boy looks fool you.”
Hyejin nodded at Jungkook before a calm, low voice filled your ears. “Hey, jagiya, where do I put this?” Your brows furrowed at the sound of the voice. A blonde headed boy wearing a black t-shirt and ripped jeans came into sight wearing glasses. Once his eyes fell on you, his blood ran cold. His throat became the Saharan desert and his hands visibly trembled.
Aish, aish, aish, the word ran through Taehyung’s mind like a mantra when his eyes fell on yours.
“You can put over there. Y/N, Jungkook, this is my boyfriend, Hansung.” Hyejin grinned before turning to show Taehyung where to place the box who had not taken his eyes off of you since he walked in. “Don’t mind him, he’s just a little shy, that’s all.”
Jungkook noticed the change in the boy with raised brows. Instinctively, Jungkook placed his hand on the small of your back. Something was off about this boy, Jungkook told himself. “Hansung?” Where had Jungkook heard that name before?
You attempted to discreetly nudge Jungkook at his rude actions but Taehyung saw. He saw everything. “Well, it’s nice to meet you, Hansung.” You piped up before moving Jungkook’s hand from your waist. “After you guys are done unloading, do you want to maybe grab a bite to eat?”
Hyejin smiled softly as if to say yes before she turned to a flushed looking Taehyung. Her eyes narrowed at him, confused at why he was acting like this all of a sudden. “I think we’ll pass, we have a lot to unpacking to do but thanks for asking.”
“Cool, no worries.” You smiled before turning back to Jungkook. “Let’s go, Busan.” You patted him on the back and pushed him out of the dorm slowly. “See you guys later!” You called out before closing the door behind you to the dorm. You sighed to yourself as you turned to look at Jungkook’s questioning look. “What is it?”
“I don’t know, something seemed a bit off about him.” Jungkook visibly shrugged it off. “Just let me know if he ever messes with you, okay?”
Following suit, you walked beside Jungkook with a grimace. “Jungkook, we aren’t kids anymore. You don’t have to protect me against every member of the opposite sex. Besides, he’s probably just really shy and he has a girlfriend. What would he want with me?”
“I don’t know if you know this, Y/N,” He states, mimicking you earlier by stopping you in front of your dorm house and placing his hands on your shoulders. You find yourself shivering not because of him (at least that’s what you told yourself) and from the warm breeze that hit you. “-but you’re a beautiful girl. You’re smart too. Any guy would be lucky to have you.” The look in his mocha brown eyes leave you in a trance almost from his sweet words. Though you know not to take his words to heart, he had been saying this for years after all.
“Stop it, Jungkook,” You say with a small laugh to lighten the mood and move his hands from your shoulders. “Let’s go eat, okay?”
Unbeknownst to you, Taehyung sat on Hyejin’s bed with a horrified look on his face. Had it really been you? For years, Taehyung had adored you from a far and to see you so close, and be able to have you talk to him… Oh, what joy he was supposed to feel! Though the very idea of you being so close to him irked him. It irked him even more so than Jungkook always being by your side like a ’d’ on a dime. You were too pure for him, he had convinced himself of this, and he hoped that you would forgive him for getting so close. Beings as fair as you could never be tainted with someone like Taehyung. It simply wasn’t right. This was the common idea that Taehyung used to reassure himself of his actions.
“Aish, how could I be so selfish?” Taehyung chastised himself while he held his head in hands. You would have to forgive him, wouldn’t you? If he could not make you forgive him, he would just persuade you somehow. He had noticed the pitiful necklace that Jungkook had bought you. Surely, he thought to himself, you deserve something much better.
Hyejin returned to Taehyung’s side with a smile. “Is something wrong, babe?” She tried to comfort him. Her brown hair fell over her eyes as she sent him a small smile in efforts to reassure him.
“Why didn’t you tell me you weren’t alone?” Taehyung whimpered while rubbing his face. He hadn’t told Hyejin about his true intentions and knew that he would have to keep his emotions together if he wanted to spend as much time with you as he could. “You know I’m awkward around new people.” Taehyung quickly adds to cover his tracks.
Hyejin pouted her lips in response to her boyfriend. “I forgot, babe. I’m sorry.” She pressed her lips against his cheeks and Taehyung had to suppress the shiver that wrought through him.
“No, no, it’s fine.” Taehyung smiles sweetly at Hyejin in attempt to appease her. “I overreacted… I just happen to do that some times.” His smile was false, just as it always was. On the inside, every emotion within him tore him limb from limb. The mere thought of you could leave him paralyzed – but you in the same room as him? In such a small vicinity? What more could he do to distance himself without losing the small grasp he (thought) he had on you?
Taehyung walked home in a daze that night; swollen eyes and swollen lips were a result from one too many drinks at the bar and he secretly wished that he would have taken up Hyejin’s offer of staying in the dorms with Jungkook, her, and you. Taehyung could still remember the suspicious look in Jungkook’s eyes as the younger boy watched the older turn down a night with his girlfriend. Images of the younger boy and you flooded his mind and he found himself stumbling against the brick wall of his neighbor’s home.
“It’s okay, it’s okay, it’s okay,” Taehyung repeated to himself as he curled his left hand over his ear; his eyes drooping before he closed them in bliss once his mind painted the perfect picture of you. A sigh emits from him as he plays his right hand over his stomach. “You’ll remember me,” his voice was barely above a whisper. “just like you promised, my Y/n.”
When they asked some old Roman philosopher or other how he wanted to die, he said he would open his veins in a warm bath. I thought it would be easy, lying in the tub and seeing the redness flower from my wrists, flush after flush through the clear water, till I sank to sleep under a surface gaudy as poppies.
But when it came right down to it, the skin of my wrist looked so white and defenseless that I couldn’t do it. It was as if what I wanted to kill wasn’t in that skin or the thin blue pulse that jumped under my thumb, but somewhere else, deeper, more secret, and a whole lot harder to get.
“Dad, me and Jace are going out! Mom already knows! We’re taking the car!” Luca shouts, running a hand through his short blond locks, tapping his blue Vans on the kitchen tiles. A deep sigh escapes him when Jace appears, tugging on his red hoodie over the white shirt. The older boy nods to the door eagerly, trying to get the message to his younger brother. Jace hurries it up, scrambling out the door; chestnut hair blowing in the wind. “Byedad, loveyou, seeyouatlikeone.” he mutters, more to himself, as he slams the door.
Sara races to the door, violet socks slipping under herself. She frowns, hearing the five year old following after her; Abby brushes her long brown hair out of her eyes, trying to peek through the window. Just not tall enough. “Dad! They’re gone! Can we get pizza now?!” Sara calls out, staring at Abby when there’s no answer. “Dad!” she yells again, bolting back into the living room; sister right on her heels.
Pushing the dark blue plastic ball down the slide, Barry claps. “Yay! Good job, Nico! Wanna do it again?! Let’s do it again! Ready?! One, two, three!” he makes a ‘whoosh’ noise, smiling when the two year old squeals. He turns his head, adjusting his thin glasses on his face. “Mom and I already took care of it. It should be here in-” he glances at his watch, scrunching his nose. “Ten minutes?” he shrugs, moving his legs in the criss cross position.
The nine year old rolls her hazel eyes, folding her arms over her orange ‘Princess’ shirt; Abby does the same. And all Barry can think is ‘oh god, this is it, they’re teaming up on me’; his green eyes go wide. Nico babbles, picking up the plastic piano and bringing it to his daddy; gray pants slipping off his pamper. “We want ice cream too!” Sara demands, nodding at Abby’s ‘yeah’.
A sigh escapes Barry, he grabs the piano, placing it on his tan jeans. “Yes, yes, sweetheart, I know. We have ice cream in the freezer.” he coos, hands reaching for the toddler, pulling him to his chest. Nico spews random syllables, reaching up to his daddy’s bowtie. “Nico, no, no, don’t - and it’s too late.” he sighs, peering down at the undone yellow tie. Barry takes off his glasses, rubbing his eye. “Girls, why don’t yo-”
“We’re gonna play dress up, daddy!” Abby giggles, following her older sister upstairs; black tutu flailing.
Putting his glasses back on, Barry coddles Nico to his chest, making little noises that resemble a song; the kid giggles. You walk through the door, pizza in hand as you blow your hair out of your face. “It’s mommy! Yay!” Barry gasps, pushing himself to his feet. “Mommy! Mommy! Mommy!” he repeats, bouncing Nico, making you smile.
“Hi baby!” you coo, kissing Nico’s head before looking up at Barry. “Hey sexy.” you whisper, pecking his lips; he blushes. “How was everything?” you ask, walking into the kitchen to put the pizza down.
The dad scoffs, following after you, “You make it seem like I can’t take care of my own kids, honey.” he mumbles, setting Nico in his highchair.
Originally created in 1895 and inspired by the Cuban flag, its colors represented resistance and independence from Spain.
Red: the blood of the patriots
White: victory and peace
Light-Blue Triangle: the sea and the sky
Star: the Island
After the invasion of the United States in 1898 and the emergence of a nationalist movement it was used by Puerto Rico’s radical left and was banned by the government. In 1952 the flag was appropriated by Luis Muñoz Marín as the official Puerto Rican flag. Under the Estado Libre Asociado of Puerto Rico (Free Associated State of PR, or loosely translated as the Commonwealth of PR, aka colony) the flag received a new meaning, silencing the previous one.
Red: the blood of the republican government
White: the freedom and rights of the people.
Dark-Blue Triangle: the republican government, a dark-blue to resemble USA’s flag
Star: Commonwealth of Puerto Rico
…Then, a Black Puerto Rican Flag appeared on a door in San Juan. The original flag was painted by a group of artists in 2012 and became a tourist attraction. The Black Flag was painted by the same artists between the night of 4th and the 5th of July 2016. The new colors represent Puerto Rico’s crisis, the failure of our government, but also our will to stand against the people who have failed us. In a recent letter the artists encouraged this new reading.
Black: the putrid blood of the government
White: our rights, still standing
Triangle: the death of the the government that failed us
Star: Puerto Rico’s will to fight
Scheelite from Xuebaoding Mountain, Pingwu County, Sichuan Province, China. This specimen demonstrates unusual red fluorescence under mid-wave ultraviolet light in pic 1. Pic 2 shows the specimen under white light with pic 3 showing scheelite’s typical bright blue-white fluorescence under short wave ultraviolet light. Scheelite is the main ore of tungsten. Prospectors search for it at night using short wave UV light due to its distinctly bright fluorescence.
they’re not some kind of narnia, they’re color-coded honeycombs of fun. see, one drawer has all my yellow, chartreuse, green, teal, blue, and lavender undies.
another has my purple, magenta, pink, red, orange, and white undies.
another has my grey and black undies, along with more than a few jockstraps.
and one of the giant drawers under my bed holds my fancy shorts, my everyday shorts, my sleep shorts and pajama bottoms, my short shorts, my swimwear, my compression gear and singlets, and my running shorts.
and, no, not all of it is aussiebum.
but a good 90 percent of it is.
they should really set me up with an endorsement deal of some sort.
Prolific author Walter Mosely was born on this day January 12th in 1952. Most noted for his crime fiction, Mr. Mosely has written under many other genres such as, science fiction, non-fiction, and YA and has had 3 books adapted into films.
(photo credit: Kim Demarco)
Easy Rawlins Mysteries:
Devil in a Blue Dress (1990)
A Red Death (1991)
White Butterfly (1992)
Black Betty (1994)
A Little Yellow Dog (1996)
Gone Fishin’ (1997)
Bad Boy Brawly Brown (2002)
Six Easy Pieces (2003)
Little Scarlet (2004)
Cinnamon Kiss (2005)
Blonde Faith (2007)
Little Green (2013)
Rose Gold (2014)
Fearless Jones Mysteries:
Fearless Jones (2001)
Fear Itself (2003)
Fear of the Dark (2006)
Leonid McGill Mysteries:
The Long Fall (2009)
Known to Evil (2010)
When the Thrill Is Gone (2011)
All I Did Was Shoot My Man (2012)
And Sometimes I Wonder About You (2015)
Blue Light (1998)
Futureland: Nine Stories of an Imminent World (2001)
The Wave (2005)
Socrates Fortlow Books:
Always Outnumbered, Always Outgunned (1997)
Walkin’ the Dog (1999)
The Right Mistake (2008)
For Young Adults:
RL’s Dream (1995)
The Man in My Basement (2004)
Walking the Line (2005), a novella in the Transgressions series
Fortunate Son (2006)
The Tempest Tales (2008)
The Last Days of Ptolemy Grey (2010)
Debbie Doesn’t Do It Anymore (2014)
Inside a Silver Box (2015)
Killing Johnny Fry: A Sexistential Novel (2006)
The Fall of Heaven, Samuel French, 2011
Lift’, World Premiere at Crossroads Theatre Company on April 10, 2014.
Workin’ on the Chain Gang: Shaking off the Dead Hand of History (2000)
What Next: An African American Initiative Toward World Peace (2003)
Life Out of Context: Which Includes a Proposal for the Non-violent Takeover of the House of Representatives (2006)
This Year You Write Your Novel (2007)
Twelve Steps Toward Political Revelation (2011)
Maximum Fantastic Four (2005,with Stan Lee and Jack Kirby)
Crosstown to Oblivion:
The Gift of Fire / On the Head of a Pin, Tor Books, 2012
Merge / Disciple, Tor Books, 2012
Stepping Stone / The Love Machine, Tor Books, 2013
Everybody is so obsessed with their cheeky Nandos, their fork handles, and the ever rising price of Freddos they forget some other key British memes.
Chicken shops with red, blue and white signage and suspicious names- Chicken Base, Perfect Fried Chicken, Chicken Cottage. Only ever found in the scummy areas of towns and cities. Nobody ever goes there. Getting hepatitis is certainly not top banter.
Despite it being on every day you do not know a single person who has ever followed Doctors on TV.
Although, you probably know a lot of people who’s summer holidays are based almost entirely around watching Bargain Hunt, Homes Under The Hammer, and Wanted Down Under.
The tragic death of Woolies. You don’t even remember what it sold, you just know it was tragic.
The retail parks that consist solely of PC World, Hobbycraft, Carpet Right and a random nondescript- but expensive- sofa shop
When E4 stopped showing Friends.
Lizo from Newsround.
That’s Asda price !
The warm earthy tones of the legend that is Brian Cox. Sadly, he is neither your teacher or your lover.
Calling anywhere furhter north than Oxford “the north”.
The facebook group that revealed the fact Pippin from Come Outside had died.
Saturday Kitchen. Who is that guy? Why is Craig Revel-Hallwood eating the fish his friend has prepared?
Knowing a friend of a friend of a friend who somehow got a Blue Peter badge
Sitting in your pyjamas on a Saturday watching some historical celebration or marathon you didn’t realise was going on that day.
Knowing that Terry Wogan should have stepped down from Eurovision long before he did.
Having that emphasised by Graham Norton.
Being confused as to why the rest of the world cares more about Royal Babies than anybody here does.
Xingrèn–A Lea/pale MTM (thanks, John!) head on a Liv body. Hair (and gloooooo) removed, faux fur (from the tail of that recently thrifted blue Disney Palace Pets cat) stitched onto the head, with a bit of polyfill to bulk it up. Original face was left in place, eye details painted over in white then new eye details painted on top, painted lashes added, line of pink added under each eye, brows overpainted with gray, lips had a small extension added on one side (for a @modernwizard -repaint-style smirk), red line added to the center of the lips. Pastel blush. Dry rub transfer “tattoo” on leg.
I had considered painting the whole doll light green, but I really liked the way the pink of the fur looked wit the pink of her stock lipstick, so here we are.
You smelled it right when you stepped into the house behind Sam and Dean, making your nose wrinkle and your heart drop. “Sulfur.”
Dean grunts in response, confirming what you thought. He kneels next to the body, lifting the white sheet and looking under. Quickly, he closes his eyes and looks away, dropping the sheet. “A creative demon, too, considering Mrs. Tucker’s face is gone.”
You sigh, crossing your arms and looking at the pictures above the fireplace. “So what now? This is the third demon attack in Ohio this month. There has to be a pattern.”
“Not necessarily,” Sam replies. “We could summon Crowley; see what’s going on down there.”
You’re about to respond when red and blue lights flash into the living room and people swarm in, guns raised. “FBI, you’re under arrest for trespassing at a crime scene!”
Your eyes widen. JJ.
Closing your eyes, you raise your arms above your head, hoping she won’t recognize you. You’re in so much trouble.
You look up to see your Grandpa come into the room, and you’re quick to look back down, ashamed. “Sam and Dean?” you ask.
“Being interrogated,” he replies, sitting across from you at the interrogation table. “Dean’s being his usual self and Sam is polite, as always.” He pauses, leaning forward with his elbows on the table. “Hotch is letting me interrogate you without anyone listening. You want to tell me why you were trespassing at a crime scene?”
You look up into his eyes, your (e/c) ones burning fiercely into his brown ones. “You know why.”
He doesn’t respond, and now you lean forward. “Listen, I’m glad you got out, Papa, I really am, but we need your help. You have to get us out or kill this thing yourself.”
“What is it?” He asks.
“A demon,” you whisper, and he rubs his temples tiredly. “Maybe multiple demons. There was sulfur at every crime scene, and you had to know from the beginning that these people weren’t being killed by people.”
“I knew,” he says, before looking at you with disappointed eyes. “I was just hoping some Hunters would come get the job done.”
You wince. “Sorry.”
He shakes his head. “So, we have some demons. What can-”
That’s when the lights go out.
Your grandpa closed his eyes. “Please let that be a power failure.”
The scream that comes next doesn’t keep his hopes up.
You curse. “Papa, you have to uncuff me. Then go get Sam and Dean. Where’s the Impala?”
He uncuffs you and you rub your wrists as you run to the door. “It’s parked on the South side of the station. Why?”
“If we’re gonna fight demons, we’ll need some supplies,” you say, peering out into the dark hall. “Cover me?”
He nods, and you slowly inch the door open. You see nothing out in the hall, so the two of you stick close to the wall, your grandpa with his gun out. Everything’s silent, and pitch black, and you keep your hand on the wall so as to know when you need to turn.
Your hand falls in a doorway, and you go to step in when the emergency lights flicker on and someone inside the room attacks you, pushing you against the opposite wall of the hallway. Gasping, you scrabble at the hand around your throat, but not attacking back because you recognize your attacker. “Dean, it’s me,” you croak.
His hand loosens as he recognizes you. “Sorry, (y/n). Just had to make sure.”
He steps away and puts a hand on your waist to help steady you as you rub your neck. You see JJ behind Dean. She must have been interrogating him, but you save that conversation for later and ask Dean, “What’s going on?”
“Probably the usual ‘kill the Winchesters’ party,” Dean replies. “Where’s Sam?”
You look at Papa and he shrugs. “I think Morgan was interrogating Sam in one of the offices,” JJ says, stepping forward.
Nodding, you turn back to Dean. “Grandpa and I are gonna run out to the car and get what we need. I’ll-”
He stops you. “Wait, Grandpa?”
“Yeah,” you mumble, already walking away. “I’ll explain that one later. Find Sam.”
can you write soft clem ?? like jus them bein cute
One month later… (sorry)
Luke could watch Michael sleep for the rest of his life. The way that Michael’s messy blue hair sticks to his forehead, how his puffy semi-open lips are red and dry from Michael’s breath coming out of them, with his arms under his pillow and his pale back looking so smooth and so touchable that Luke can’t stop himself from caressing his skin delicately, to not wake him up and only stopping his fingers when they reach the white sheet covering Michael’s naked ass and hairy legs.
Michael hums with the feeling of Luke’s cold fingers tracing invisible circles on his back and he brings his body closer to Luke’s, taking his arms from under his pillow and holding Luke’s waist, clinging to him and burying his face into the crook of his neck. Luke hugs Michael back, squeezing his boyfriends middle and enjoying the heat of their bodies together.
“I can’t believe that you’re mine… fuck. You’re so beautiful, Mikey, so fucking gorgeous.” Luke’s voice comes out rough and low bringing chills all over Michael’s skin.
Michael grunts something that Luke interprets as “Shut up.” And Luke feels Michael’s face getting warmer against his neck.
Michael tightens his hold around his waist and Luke laughs fondly kissing his hair.
“It’s true. Baby, I’m so lucky. Look at you, the prettiest boy alive, with the best ass too, damn.” He stretches the last word, tone light but Luke really thinks he’s lucky, Michael isn’t only beautiful outside, but he has the most wonderful and warm heart too.
“Luke, stop it!” Michael yells straight in Luke’s ear making him jump and putting some space between them. Michael laughs when he sees his face.
“I’m here trying to be romantic and you almost left me deaf.” Luke rubs his ear looking at Michael with a fake angry expression.
“You’re the worst boyfriend ever,” Luke says. But he can’t control the chuckle that escapes his mouth when Michael pouts at him, and he leans to kiss it off Michael’s face.
“I love you, you know?” Michael whispers against Luke’s lips.
Luke hums agreeing, a big smile on his face, but he doesn’t break their kiss.