For my younger followers, and those who have not had the chance to be as socially educated and may be on the fence about communism, an ideology that never should have left Karl Marx’s basement (where he wrote it while ignoring his starving children)
The perfect illustration of capitalism vs communism is Korea.
In South Korea, you have this thing called K-pop
It’s cute bubbly pop music made by cute highschool girls and young women.
Now in North Korea, you have these things called “Death Camps.”
It’s where girls just like this, toddlers, elderly and inform, and political dissidents (real or percieves) are worked to death, starved, women subject to rape (usually followed by then watching product of said rape murdered in front of her.), entire families imprisoned in these circumstances for generations, all of them subject to medical experimentation and just any crime against humanity imaginable (the history of communism is parrallel to that of all major large scale human rights abuses for the past hundred years.
In times of great stress or shock, your Hunter may go suddenly quiet, such as in the moments before a firefight or following a disaster. It is imperative that you act quickly to assess their mental state. The following checklist can identify potentially dangerous situations and help you to evaluate your next steps.
First, identify the cause of stress. Potential factors include:
Witnessing a second death
Dismemberment, or the witnessing thereof
Repeated Ghost revival
Defeat in the Crucible
The tearing or loss of a cloak
Losing a game of dice
Running out of alcohol
Stubbing a toe
Immediately following any of these occurrences, act quickly to gauge the severity of their psychological response to said stress. Be sure to watch for the following indicators:
Is your Hunter staring off into the middle distance?
Is your Hunter grinning wildly for no discernible reason?
Is your Hunter speaking with an entity that isn’t there?
Is your Hunter laughing maniacally?
Is your Hunter obsessively stroking the bones of an extinct creature?
Is your Hunter behaving like a normal, well-adjusted human being?
If the answer to one or more of the above questions is YES, the best course of action is to remove yourself from your Hunter’s vicinity and point them either at the nearest enemy or the nearest bar, depending on which is closest.
Min Yoongi had gone through 34 secretaries in the past 24 months, and each one of them left in tears. This fact alone should have warned you against taking the job, but the pay was too good to pass up. Surely you could put up with a billionaires temper-tantrums, right?
Yoongi x Reader & Taehyung x Reader
Genre: Fluff, humor, probably some angst
Warnings: Strong language at times, maybe some slight smut eventually
“You’re going to get me fired.” You hissed as Taehyung made his way over to your desk. You could feel eyes on you as he approached, and you wanted nothing more than for him to turn around and leave.
“Why do you think that?” He asked innocently, sitting down in one of the chairs in front of you.
“Look, Taehyung–just.” You couldn’t quite figure out what you were trying to say to him, too bewildered at his sudden appearance. “If you want to talk, we’ll talk. But not here–”
Taehyung raised an eyebrow as you spoke, his head tilting to the side. “While I do want to talk to you, that isn’t why I’m here.”
“What?” You said weakly, feeling your cheeks begin to burn with embarrassment. “Why then?”
“I’m here to see Min Yoongi.” Taehyung replied, holding up a suitcase as some kind of proof. “I have some questions.”
Questions. Namjoon said Taehyung would ask questions, and he was right.
“About?” You prompted.
“I don’t think that concerns you.” Taehyung stood. “Now if you’ll excuse me…”
“You can’t just walk in there!” You objected, hurrying in front of him. “I’ll… Tell Yoongi you’re here. Wait outside.”
Taehyung being there wasn’t good. Yoongi didn’t like him, so not only would seeing his face likely put him in a bad mood, if Taehyung said anything about you, you were as good as fired.
You knocked only once on Yoongi’s door before stepping inside, and unsurprisingly Yoongi didn’t look up from what he was typing. “Kim Taehyung is here to see you.” You said, trying not to sound as nervous as you felt. Yoongi looked up at that, glancing from you to over your shoulder. Taehyung had followed you into the office, and was standing there with a smile.
“I’m busy.” Yoongi said after a moment, looking back at his computer. “Tell him he’ll have to wait.”
You realized after a second that you were actually expected to relay the message, and turned awkwardly towards Taehyung. “He says he’s busy at the moment, but I can look at his schedule and set you up an appointment.”
Taehyung looked from where Yoongi sat typing back to you. “Tell him that whatever he’s doing can wait, I have matters to discuss with him.”
Yoongi snorted, but didn’t respond. Taehyung nodded for you to tell Yoongi, and you resisted the urge to roll your eyes. This was absurd. “Taehyung says that it’s important.” You abbreviated, knowing that Yoongi had heard full well what Taehyung said.
“Tell him I said too bad.”
You sighed, looking back to Taehyung. “He says–”
“I heard what he said.” Taehyung snapped. “Look Min. I know you’re a busy man, but so am I. So take fifteen minutes to answer my questions, or answer to the board.”
“Is that a threat?” Yoongi sat back in his chair, studying Taehyung with a slight smile on his mouth. He thought this was fun, you picked up somewhat belatedly.
“More of a fact.” Taehyung sat down across from Yoongi. “Now lets talk business, shall we?”
Description: Zach’s girlfriend finds out what he did to Hannah, and breaks up with him.
*I’ve been in love with this song, and I got the idea for this imagine.
*I might do a Part 2 to this one.
*I do NOT own the gifs
Break My Heart - Hey Violet
“I will not forget all the wonderful things you’ve done”
Hannah Baker is dead.
The words echoed through my head as I sat at my lunch table. My friends were also in the same melancholy mood. We couldn’t believe it, we weren’t close with her, but we all had her in our classes and we did talk to her from time to time. She was our friend.
I looked up and made eye contact with my boyfriend Zach Dempsey, who was sitting with the popular crowd. He looked defeated, and had bags under his eyes. Justin Foley and Alex Standall, who were both next to him were whispering furiously to each other.
I wanted to go comfort Zach, but we decided that it would be for the best if no one knew. Liberty High was full of assholes and sluts, people that would ruin me.
Just like they ruined Hannah.
I knew that Hannah was struggling with all the rumors that circled her like she was a piece of meat. And that is why we keep it a secret.
Zach stood abruptly from the table, his chair making a loud screeching sound as he walked out of the cafeteria. His friends watched him go, and I decided to follow. Giving him a few minutes; I said bye to my friends and threw out my lunch. The halls greeted me with the gentle touch of silence, which wrapped around me like a cloak.
Walking towards his locker, I spotted him leaning against it. Silently I approached him. Not wanting to scare him I waved my arm.
Zach looked vulnerable.
“Hey, what’s wrong?” I cooed softly, wrapping my tiny arms around his large frame.
“Nothing Y/N.” He said in a gruff voice, trying to push me away.
I pulled away and tried to get him to look me in the eyes, “Is it about Hannah?” And with that, he froze. “Am here if you want to talk.”
“Well I don’t want to talk to you.” I could hear the coldness in his voice as I took a few steps back.
“Zachary Dempsey, you do not speak to me like that. I’ll go ask Clay if you won’t tell me.” I started to walk away from him before I felt his large hand wrap around my upper arm. “No,”
“I j-just….” And with that he completely broke down; sobbing on my shoulder and quivering. “Shh…”
We stayed like that until the bell rang.
And then he straightened up, put on his infamous smirk, nodded at me, and walked away. Leaving me behind.
“Y/N, how well do you know your boyfriend?” Clay asked me a few weeks after the incident in the hallway. I was opening my locker and retrieving my history books. He was the only one that knew about me and Zach. He’s my cousin, and he found a picture of us when he was over for a family dinner.
“Why? Did something happen?” I looked up and noticed that Clay looked out of it. Turning around and facing the other end of the hallway, Justin was staring us down with a calculated gaze, along with Zach, who looked like he was about to walk over here.
“I think he had something to do with Hannah’s death.” I stopped before closing my locker. Turning to Clay, I didn’t want to believe him, but ever since the whole school found out, Zach has been more distant lately: never answering my texts or calls, purposefully ignoring me in classes, not making eye contact, or sometimes running into me “by mistake”, just so he could talk to me in school.
Zach was a great boyfriend: always treating me right. But lately, it was like he was trying to break my heart. Looking back over at Zach and his group, I made my decision. “Okay Clay, walk with me to my next class.”
Clay and I started to walk down the hallway towards our history class. We were getting closer and closer to Zach and his friends, and I felt my phone buzz in my pocket. Ignoring it, I looked straight at Zach, and then the rest of his friends.
We made it to class safely without a scratch and I sighed in relief when I noticed that we had a substitute teacher. I sat down and then turned to Clay, “Alright cuz’, what’s going on.”
Fifty minutes and a shattered heart later, I had heard everything I needed to: Hannah was bullied, not only by Justin Foley and his group, but even by my faithful boyfriend.
When the bell rang, symbolizing the end of the day, I hurriedly grabbed my things and sprinted out of the classroom, making it to the parking lot in record time. I could easily find Zach’s six three frame standing by his car, talking with some kids in his biology class.
I made my way through the parked cars and finally reached his. When Zach finally noticed me he said goodbye to the other kids and made his way towards me.
“Y/N what’s wrong?” He looked worried.
I held my hand up to stop him from coming closer, “Tell me it isn’t true Zach.”
His face paled, “Y-Y/N..” He paused, “She’s lying.”
My eyes narrowed, “No she isn’t. You think I’m stupid.”
Zach ran his hand through his hair, a act of nervousness. “No, I think you’re the smartest girl in the world, and the dumbest for dating me.”
“So it is true.”
He tried to take a few steps towards me, but I refused. I was disgusted with the boy in front of me. I always told Zach that his friends weren’t good people, but he refused to listen to me. He told me once that he always wanted to be the popular guy with the beautiful girlfriend that he could show off to his friends. He had all of that, except for the showing me off part.
“I don’t want to break up like this, tell me you never loved me. Or-r that it wasn’t real and that you found somebody else.” I whispered.
“Break my heart Zach.”
I looked up at him to find him already staring at me, with a heartbroken look on his face. I felt a few tears slip from my watery Y/E/C eyes and I wiped them away with my sleeve.
“Y/N.” He whispered, “I can’t-t.”
Even though he was the strongest on the court, he was the weakest when it came to me. I was his kryptonite. Without looking at him I straightened my backpack and slowly turned around and started to walk away.
“Goodbye Zach, I hope you have a great rest of your high school life. I hope you got the full experience of high school.”
The thing about the girl in Get Out being a bad guy in the end is in part bc every white person has biases and privilege that they need to check, but also when there’s a Good White in the cast, it lets every white person watching associate themselves with that one and follows the whole “well he said some white people are racist, that’s not me, i’m not like that” dynamic.
You didn’t like that she became a bad guy? How do you think the main character felt?? How do you think it feels for POC to see that in their white partners/friends?
Why I want to stop watching the Blacklist (a.k.a., A Rant by Me)
This used to be my favorite show. Hands down. I would
legitimately schedule things around it; I would leave events early to make sure
I could watch it live; I would post about it on Tumblr and read other people’s
posts the rest of the evening; I would search through multiple review site’s
posts the next day.
I loved the dynamic between Red and Liz. I loved the
mysteries and the little morsels of answers that we would get. I loved how, in
the S1 finale, it felt like no one was safe:Meera got killed; Harold got
attacked and nearly killed; Tom was shot and left for dead.
But, over the past few seasons, this show has become the
bane of my TV-watching experience.
I would watch it, sure. But that was because I didn’t want
the folks on Tumblr spoiling it for me. It was because I thought we were
finally getting answers – which is what they teased us with every other week
– only to feel so disappointed.
This last year, I made reaction videos for a friend of mine
for every single episode. You know what one of the most commonly said things in
those videos is? “Well, at least next week’s preview looks good.” Only to be disappointed in that episode, and to say the same thing about next week’s preview, and the cycle repeated itself until we actually got a half-way decent episode (which was usually some kind of finale or premiere, because that’s the only time actual shit can happen – during Sweeps Week).
Over and over again, both online and in person, I compared
this to those scenes in cartoons where someone puts a carrot on a fishing pole
in front of a donkey, and the donkey runs so hard to reach the carrot, only to
never get there.
That’s how this show has felt the past season or two.
It’s only a shadow of what it once was, and I’m tired of it.
I wish I could stop watching it.
So many other people I follow on Tumblr have said they’ve
either stopped or thought about stopping. By comparison, Game of Thrones, Breaking Bad and the Walking Dead seemingly increase their viewership every season; the Blacklist has been NBC’s lowest-rated show in the demo for the last
year, IIRC. The ratings for the Redemption spin-off were so low, the showrunners tried to pass it off as a one-off miniseries, when it was ALWAYS intended to be its own full-length show.
I understand that the show does well in DVR viewership
numbers, and it was the most expensive TV show that Netflix had purchased when Season 1 was released.
But, this show continues to disappoint me. There’s hardly
anything I like about it anymore. Hell, even James Spader, who’s a master at
his craft, seems to be bored with it. His monologues are becoming more and more
cliche, and even his amazing performances can’t save this dumpster-fire.
Its protagonist, Liz, is all over the fucking place in terms
of characterization. First, she was naive and learned her “husband” had used and
abused her. Then, she went to the dark side, chained him up on a boat and said
she’d never forgive him for what he’d done. Then, she apparently forgave him,
slept with him, had his kid, tried to remarry the guy, and then faked her death
to get away with him and is now living her happy dream life with her little
girl and her ‘perfect’ husband.
What happened to the dark, morally questionable, grungy Liz?
What happened to the Liz who was jaded and afraid after being on the run for
several weeks, or months?
She just settled down with a guy who she used to hate and
she’s living the dream.
What in the literal fuck?
And, for all the time that has been invested in Liz, she has
made little to no progress in her characterization these past few seasons. In
fact, she’s done more of a 360. She’s right back where she started, more or
Why should the audience give a shit about her journey if
she’s not making any progress? Why should we care that, halfway through this
show, she has everything she’s ever wanted?
The side characters, like Aram,
Samar, Ressler, Cooper and others are there
just to serve the plot. Any time there’s a semblance of some character
development or plot progression, the showrunners regress everyone back to Stage
One so we can do it all over again. Aram
and Samar look like they’re making progress in
their possible romantic relationship? Fuck that, we’ve got to make sure Aram runs back
to his abusive girlfriend and string this thing along another season! Remember when Ressler got shot, had prescription drug problems, and was in Narcotics Anonymous? Yeah, me neither.
Mr. Kaplan, who was best when she was on-screen to sass and
help Reddington once every few episodes, gets pushed into the spotlight for
some made-up bullshit reason that had never been discussed or hinted at
previous to the “Mr. Kaplan used to work for Katarina Rostova” storyline.
And while Susan Bloomaert is a fantastic and underrated actress and did her
absolute best to make those scenes between her and Liz feel emotional, I didn’t
really care about their dynamic at all because it felt so forced,
underdeveloped, and out-of-nowhere.
Whereas the relationship that I care the MOST about – that
between Red and Liz – that has been the most built-up and developed over the
course of the show keeps getting thrown under the bus as Liz does the whole
“love Red, hate Red, forgive Red” song-and-dance routine. She claims
she agrees with Red when he tells her not to go back to Tom in Season 2… only
to go back to Tom later in Season 2. She’s totally down with asking Red to help
her whenever she’s a criminal on the run… but the minute her wedding
gets shot up, she yells at him and says it’s his fault.
And now, as far as the Lizzington fans go, which I count myself as one of them, the show has
written itself into a corner. Because all the amazing chemistry and romantic
tropes throughout the show feel incredibly creepy now that Liz believes Red is
her dad, regardless of whether he actually is or not. I don’t care how they try
to pull themselves out of the ginormous hole they’ve dug for themselves on that
one – why the hell would a woman ever end up with a guy that she once thought
was her dad, even if it turned out he actually wasn’t?
And the only real way out of it is the Impostor Theory – a
well-written and well-researched theory, but one that makes people have to do
fucking mental gymnastics for it to work. You have to assume a lot of people
like Naomi and Reddington’s former roommate from the Naval Academy
who’s now an admiral, are in on it. Whereas dudes like Finch or the Director
Don’t get me wrong; I think it’s a wonderful theory and it explains a
lot. But, if it ends up being true, it means one of two things:
1) The writers didn’t plan this from the beginning and
lucked their way into it
2) The writers DID plan this from the beginning, which means
they have the ability to be really good writers, but then they fell into all
this other bullshit – like Liz’s weird arc and other things – which really means
that they’re not that good of writers; they just had the one good idea.
And if the Impostor Theory DOESN’T end up being true, in
some form or fashion, that means that Red really IS Liz’s dad, and this whole
fucking show – Red’s entire characterization, his relationship and dynamic
with her – has been a lie. Canon can be throw out the window to rot in the
sewer and fuck itself in the interim, because the writers don’t even care any
Which, I realize is unfair, because I know there are
hundreds of people who work really hard to make this show happen, and while
it’s not, like, the worst show of all time, the fact that it had such potential
and has fallen so far, almost makes it seem worse than a show that was so bad from
the beginning I never invested time in it.
And what makes it even WORSE is that the showrunners
continue to act like this is the most groundbreaking show on television, and
put it on a pedestal On High, along with the likes of Game of Thrones, The
Americans, and The Sopranos… you know, actually good shows.
That would be the equivalent of the Taken director demanding
that his movie should’ve gotten an Oscar. It’s like, you know it was a fine
movie, and I had a good time watching it, but like, bring yourself back down to
earth. Taken is okay, but it is NOT Oscar-worthy material, so get off your high
I guess, if nothing else, it shows that the showrunners,
writers and actors are so talented that they got me to invest in the show to
the point where I can’t not watch it, even though it’s fallen so far and I feel
like it’s nowhere near as good as it used to be. They hooked me and got me to
care about these characters and their dynamics so much that, even though it frustrates me week in and week out, I will still keep watching it.
It’s just that, now, I might be doing it with a bottle of
vodka, taking shots every time:
Red has a monologue that proves James Spader is too damn good for this show;
Liz is bitchy to Red for little to no reason, while continuing to be lovey-dovey with Tom;
Ressler survives a fight or car accident or some other action sequence with no injuries whatsoever;
Harry Lennix is completely underused as Harold Cooper in an episode, because he only tells his employees to do the obvious… and literally nothing else;
Samar and/or Aram take a step back from getting together, despite hints that they’ve liked each other since Season 2.
The light flashed on the screen of my mobile, stealing my attention away from the class. Annoyed, I took it off the table and threw it in my bag. After class, still vibrating in intervals, I took it out.
Call me ASAP.
What does ASAP mean?
Honey, I need to talk to you now. Where are you?
Have you seen the update? I need to talk to you before that.
Okay, I think you must have seen it. Is that why you aren’t talking?
It’s been 2 hours! C’mon! I need to talk to you.
Pick the fuck up.
I picked up the incoming call to avoid answering the texts.
“Where the fuck have you been?” He yelled.
“In class! My gosh! If I’m not answering your messages or your call, I would be busy, right?” I yelled back.
“No, you’re supposed to answer my texts!”
“When have I answered texts!” He wasn’t making sense.
“Okay. Point. Where are you?” He asked, calming down.
“Just got out of class! She took a two-hour lecture. My head hurts.”
“I’m sorry, baby. Wait, Mike is right outside the building. Climb into the car, and come here.”
“Where is here? I rather go home, Harry,” I told him, already tired of the long day.
“It’s not safe right now. Come here and rest.” He cut the call, and I had to climb into the car. Mike was sitting there, smoking away, and he straightened when he saw me.
“Sorry, Harry asked me to take you back to his house.” He told me, starting the car. They worshipped him, it seems. I’ll never understand gangs.
Harry was the son of the leader of one of the two biggest gangs that ruled this city. And I, a normal international student, who came here on an exchange program and chose to continue my degree here, became his girlfriend. I didn’t know how, because I recently found out about his affiliations with the gang. I was just quite into my course, studying Media and Culture and he just was nice to me from the start.
“We are going to his house? But, that’s so far away!” I groaned.
“Don’t you have a week off, now? Festival and stuff?” Mike asked.
“At least, stop on the way to my place so I can collect my things. I’ll work there.”
“Umm, it’s not safe. We shouldn’t stop.” He fidgeted.
“Please Mike,” I sugar-coated my voice.
“Okay, you will have five minutes, though!”
I ran up the stairs to my room and took the largest bag out. Dumping some clothes, my prep kit, books, laptop, chargers, everything I could possibly need in the week, and rushed down.
Coming down the stairs, the main door was blocked off. I called Mike, “Dude, the doors shut! What’s happening?”
“Fuck! Charlie’s guys are here! Listen, climb down the back balcony, I’ll pull the car there!” He said, hurried and tensed.
“What? What’s happening! Climb down where?” I tried pushing the door open, but it didn’t budge.
“Call the Boss. We got the girlfriend.” I heard a voice claim and bang the door from outside.
I climbed the first floor and saw Mike pull the car. “Catch my bag!” I threw it down, and he caught it, dumping it in the backseat.
“Be careful. Harry will have my throat!” He said as I climbed down the pipe. Slippery as it was, I twisted my ankle as I hit the ground. But, Mike picked me up and made me sit in the car, before rushing to his side and driving off.
Hitting the main road, I turned around to get my bag, “Mike, we have cars following us!”
“Oh shit! Fuck!” He increased the speed and speed dialled Harry.
“Where the fuck, are you?” He screamed.
“Harry! We have cars following us! We stopped at my place to get my things, and they shut the door, and they said we got the girlfriend, they are catching up, Harry!” I yelled.
“What! You stopped at your place! What did I tell you, Mike! Straight home!” Harry’s voice when angry could make a grown man cry. A little harder, and he could pee in his pants as well.
Mike, increased his speed with Harry’s voice increasing.
“Jason! Tell the lads to leave the warehouse! Keep talking to me, baby.”
“Harry! What is happening?” I asked, scared now.
“Nothing honey, I’ll explain when you reach.” Within no time, we had two cars, right beside us acting as protection against the cars that were following us.
“I hurt my ankle too,” I said, watching the cars following us stop, as we enter the Styles’ Land. The car slowed down as we reached the mansion, and I saw Harry standing outside, with five bodyguards around him.
He opened my car door and picked me up. My hands went around his neck, and he placed a kiss on my lips. “I am sorry for rushing you.”
“I am sorry for delaying the plan. I wanted my stuff,” I whispered. “It’s not Mike’s fault.”
Harry nodded, “Get her bag, and keep it in my room.” He told Mike. We walked inside the lobby, where a nurse was ready to fix my ankle.
“I don’t think it needs more than a spray,” I told her. She checked it and shook her head.
“I am wrapping it up, don’t put pressure on it,” Harry grumbled, in anger.
“It’s my fault,” I repeated.
“No, it’s mine.”
“What happened? Tell me now?” I was genuinely worried now. “Where is your father?”
“He is out of the country. Will come in a week, I messed up.”
“What did you do?” I asked, pulling him closer.
“Old beef with Charlie. Raised it up, again. Family rivalry. It’s just worse this time because, we fought,” Harry sat closer to me, pulling me in his lap. I checked his body for injuries. “I don’t have any, he does though,”
“So, are we having an off because of this? The entire week is off, will it continue for longer?” I asked.
“Till everything calms down,” I sighed. “Well, it’s not my fault that our party’s ruling.” He smirked.
“Take me up.”
“Harry, you’re in the news,” I called for him.
“What?” He ran and sat next to me.
The Styles family clashes again with the Shaw’s. Is it just a fight between the big boys or will it take a political turn?
“What sort of reporters are these?” I said, disgusted.
“I don’t know. You’re studying Media,” He giggled.
“So, I can’t leave the house?” I asked.
He shook his head. “Don’t worry, I’ll keep you entertained,” He laughed as pushed me down on the sofa, and climbed on top.
“You guys fight was no reason.”
“Hmm,” He said kissed up my neck.
“You think, I can talk to Charlie? Put some sense into him, too?” He stopped and looked at me. I tried to reach his face, but he held my wrists.
Anger filling his expression, “No, you won’t talk to him.” He said, tightening the hold.
Excuse me, ma'am? I'm going to need you to step out of the car and write 30,000 more words in that William universe immediately. Please and thank you.
His birth parents had a large house, but not large enough for them, his birth parents, him, and a few assorted extras who were helping to clean up the destruction that the world had been resorted to. William, feeling three times as awkward among the strangers, holed up on a day bed in Mulder’s study. It wasn’t terrible, actually; there was enough random newspaper clippings and books and dusty files to keep him fairly entertained, and Scully’s dog liked to sleep in there. As long as he stayed in that room, he could ignore the reality of the situation. It was the end of the apocalypse, maybe, and he was stuck in a house with his real parents and his birth parents, but at least he had some musty old ghost stories to mull over.
His parents (the real one) were resting in Mulder and Scully’s guest room. Technically, William supposed, Mulder was supposed to be resting, too, but he ended up skulking around random corners of the house more often than not. He’d accidentally stumbled into his study so many times that William was starting to suspect that they weren’t accidents. Mulder would usually punctuate the awkwardness by offering food. They’d shared a few awkward conversations over messy sandwiches in the kitchen, but they hadn’t talked, really talked, since the day Mulder had given him the picture.
A/N: Happy birthday to @iknowyoufeelme You wanted me to write you a Thick!Y/N with your personality so here’s your gift!
Warning: Contains Some Sexual Content. View At Your Own Risk!!!
Ashton’s jaw clenched when you deliberately walked in front of the television blocking his view. His jaw wasn’t clenched in anger. It was clenched in half anger and half arousal. His eyes rolled in their sockets at your pettiness, but for some reason they stayed locked on your back as you headed towards the front door. “Where are you headed?” Ashton questioned, head turning to the side to look at your properly.
“Out,” you replied in monotone. His eyebrows rose at your words and Ashton took in the outfit you were wearing. You were in some skintight dark wash leggings that hugged your curves in a way that drove Ashton crazy. The bodysuit you were wearing showed a lot of your cleavage. The floral patterns strategically scattered on the top looked bright against everything else you were wearing. This whole outfit made Ashton what to ask you exactly where you were going and who you were going to be with.
“Out where and who with?” Ashton asked this time, biting onto his tongue at the tone of his voice. He didn’t want to sound possessive but with you looking the way you did he couldn’t help it. You turned around to look at him and your head tilted to the side at his question.
“I’m going to see a friend and I don’t have to tell you everything,” you told him, grabbing your purse and leaving. Ashton sighed at your response. You were still upset with him.
About two weeks ago you and Ashton had gotten into an argument over you not changing the toilet paper roll when you were the one to use it up. It was a pet peeve of Ashton’s and he was sick of always replacing it. At first Ashton would just put up with it, but after some time he got fed up and began to fuss at you over not replacing it. He had even taken a stand and had refuse to buy toilet paper or replace it if the two of you even had some. It was never fun when the both of you were stubborn as can be. Since Ashton was taking a stand you decided to play him at his own game. If you had to use the restroom at home then you showered afterwards to avoid getting another toilet paper roll. It had gotten to a point where you bought yourself flushable wipes if you had to do something other than peeing.
Ever since, you had been giving Ashton the cold shoulder and doing things to upset him out of spite. You were petty to a fault something Ashton knew the minute he started to date you. Not to mention since Ashton was on thin ice with you he wasn’t able to touch you in the way that he wanted. Along with that you dressed in a way that made him crave your touch. For a week you had been going out. Passing by Ashton is some tight outfits and answering his questions in vague ways. Five minutes had passed after your departure and he was quick on his feet. Racing off the couch and rushing to place on his shoes. Ashton was done with the games and if you thought you were going to go out looking like that without him by your side then you were sadly mistaken. Ashton wasn’t going to tell you how to dress knowing good and well that if he did you’d tell him what was what. No, Ashton was the type of man to let other men know you were his. Anytime someone was looking your way all he had to do was reach back and grab your ass. A small gesture to let other guys know that you were his.
It didn’t take him long to find your car. Some white Mercedes was between your car and Ashton’s as he trailed behind. He knew it was wrong to be following you, but Ashton was becoming a bit desperate especially when it came to you. It was clear to anyone that saw your relationship from the outside that you were the one calling the shots. Ashton’s behavior when you were around was similar to that of a dog’s. Obedient and full of love. He of course had his limits when it came to some stuff, but overall Ashton worshiped the ground you walked on. Ashton had seen enough spy movies to not drive too close to your car otherwise you’d figure out he was following you. Unbeknownst to Ashton you had already seen his car when you had stopped at a red light. He wasn’t at all conspicuous. Just to play with him, you had decided to call Ashton. “H-Hey babe,” Ashton chirped into the phone, his eyes locked on the back window of your car as he drove.
“Why are you following me?” you asked him, your own car turning into the parking lot of a playground. Ashton cursed under his breath and he cleared his throat.
“What are you talking about?” he mumbled out, driving pass where you had stopped your car and circling around the block. You smirked at his words and shook your head in amusement at how childish he was acting.
“I’m not stupid Ashton,” you sighed out, seeing his car drive right back around towards the park. “Are you going to keep circling around like a creeper and have the neighborhood watch call the cops or are you going to park and come talk to me?” Ashton remained quiet for a few seconds and soon he was driving back around the block, but this time Ashton pulled up next to you. You were leaning against the driver side door of your car, arms crossed over your chest as you watched Ashton exit his car. “Care to explain why you’re following me?” you said, looking at Ashton with boredom.
“When are you going to stop with this?” he questioned, the tone he was using matched yours.
“Stop with what?” you asked making a groan leave Ashton’s lips. You were starting to annoy him and Ashton knew you were doing it on purpose.
“You’re so goddamn stubborn,” Ashton hissed, blowing air out of his nose in frustration. You smirked at the reaction you received from him. “I can’t keep doing this with you! All I asked was for you to replace the toilet paper roll after you were the one to use it all up and suddenly you treat me like dirt!” Your eyes widened a bit at Ashton’s outburst. You had clearly struck a nerve with him. “Then-then you start doing shit to deliberately rile me up! Going out partying and not telling me when you plan to be home. You know I’m starting to think you’re cheating on me? Each time I ask you when you’re going to come home or where you’re going to be you act as if I’m interrogating you.” Ashton sucked in a deep breath at his little rant. He was panting and his eyes narrowed at you. You were shocked not sure what to say. You didn’t want him to think you were cheating. It was always hard for you to show some remorse because you thrived on being petty. When you became petty you were ruthless as can be. “Cut the crap because I sure as hell will play you at your own game and trust me Princess you don’t want to see me to start acting petty. It won’t be pretty.” he said in a low voice. “And what is this!” he yelled in exasperation gesturing at the outfit you were wearing. “I’ve never seen you wear that. You can’t give me the cold shoulder and then start walking around looking like a snack.”
“A snack?” you chuckled, “Baby I look like the whole buffet.” Your hand went down to rest at your hip as you gestured down at yourself with the other hand. Ashton’s words got caught in his throat at your words. It was then that he realized you were enjoying this. You were enjoying watching him squirm. Enjoying the fact that he was slightly cursing you out right now. It almost seemed to turn you on and he wasn’t sure how to feel about it. Ashton’s tongue poked out to lick at his lips and he tried not to look at your body in lust. His mind already running wild at the thought of caressing your curves and being between your large thighs.
“Tell me where you’re going,” Ashton demanded this time. Your teeth sunk down into your bottom lip at how gruff his voice came out and suddenly your agenda had changed.
“Wherever you want me to go,” you replied the smirk on your face growing when you saw Ashton’s eyes finally glaze over in lust. He was starting to lose his composure and you were basking in it. It always turned you on when Ashton put you in your place, but you enjoyed being the one in charge right now.
“Fuck,” Ashton huffed, hand coming up to run through his hair. He turned away from you trying to wrap his mind around what exactly was happening. Ashton had followed you in hopes of seeing what was going on. He wanted this cold war the two of you had to end and somehow you both had gone off track. Ashton looked back at you and you tilted your head to the side. You stared at him with a sly smile. “Don’t do that,” Ashton said, shaking his head. He was suppose to be angry with you.
“Do what?” you smiled. Your mouth opened to say something else but you didn’t get the chance to. Ashton’s lips crashing against yours in a feverish kiss. You kissed him back with passion and your arms wrapped around his neck to pull him closer. Ashton moaned into the kiss his hands going down to grip at your hips in desperation. You knew he was hard. Just from how much he was gripping at your ass and trying hard to unzip your pants you knew you had Ashton right where you wanted him. The kiss broke and Ashton’s lips trailed down your neck to nibble at your sweet spot. “We’re at a park,” you moaned out realizing Ashton was trying to get you out of your clothes. He pulled away from you and looked around at your surroundings. It was dark out and the park was deserted.
“When has that ever stopped us?” Ashton questioned going back to marking your skin. His tongue slid over the bruise that had formed on your neck. You pulled back and gave him a look of bewilderment.
“Okay having sex in a dressing room or public bathroom is different. This is a park, Ashton. The actual outside I’m not doing that,” you scolded. His head fell back between his shoulders and an annoyed sound left his lips. You had been depriving him of sex for two weeks and Ashton wasn’t going to let this situation get in his way. He sighed deeply and the looked between his and your car.
“A quickie in the slide?” he suggested earning a glare and shake of head from you. Ashton palmed at his hard on as he thought of where else to go. He wasn’t going to make it if you two had decided to drive all the way back home. For some reason you knew what he was thinking and nodded your head towards your truck.
“My trunk is empty and I can push the backseat down for space,” you sighed. Ashton nodded vigorously at your words and you popped the trunk open to let the seats down. You could only hope that cops wouldn’t drive by and peek inside. Once inside you and Ashton went back to making out. Soon you had him out of his pants and his cock in your mouth. Ashton was laid back on his elbows watching your head bob up and down at a steady rhythm. One of his hands reached out to grab at your bare ass. His fingers slipping between your legs to play with your clit. You moaned around his cock and your head lifted up so you could suck in some air. Your tongue slowly swirled around the head of his cock and Ashton cursed under his breath. You sucked on the tip and took him down your throat once more. He loved watching you go down on him. The sight alone could send him over the edge. You began to rock back against Ashton’s fingers when they slipped inside of you. The two digits making your cunt burn in pleasure. You couldn’t wait to have him inside of you and hopefully the two of you could get pass this little argument you were having. Knowing after this fuck fest you’d stop giving Ashton the cold shoulder and go back to being the lovey dovey couple you were.
Silence hung in the air around your table. You were practically sending death glares at Taehyung, but he seemed oblivious. He smiled at you. “Shall we play some games, cupcake?” He got up from his seat, making his way towards the arcade.
You let out a small, awkward laugh. “Excuse me,” you whispered, getting up from your seat and following him. You quickly caught up to him as he inserted some coins in an arcade machine. “What the hell was that?” you asked in a harsh whisper.
“What was what?” he asked, eyes focused on the game that was beginning.
“You could have just said something a lot different.” You placed yourself in front of his line of sight. “Hey, this is my friend Y/N.” You crossed your arms over your chest. “That would have been better then telling them that I’m your ex.”
He briefly glanced at you. “They know who you are, cupcake. Just reminding them that we had a thing will help us in the long run,” he told you, his boxlike grin gracing you with its presence.
“So you’re the ex Tae has been talking about,” Namjoon said, leaning against the machine across from you. “You’re also the one Jimin mentioned in the fight with Seohyun.” He smirked.
“Ah, yeah, that would be me,” you said, unfolding your arms. “Do you guys go to Cross Academy, too?”
Namjoon shook his head, his blond hair glistening under the light. “Hoseok and I know how to avoid trouble.”
You laughed. “I could avoid trouble, but someone ratted me out.” You stole a glance at Taehyung.
“Taehyung mentioned having to make it up to a friend,” Hoseok said, coming up next to Namjoon. “I guess you’re the person he owes big time.”
“So how long have you known Tae?” Namjoon asked, changing the subject slightly as Jungkook walked up to your little group.
You thought for a second, taping your foot lightly. “A couple of years. I’m not sure how long, but it’s been a while.”
“You’re the only person hyung talks about. He never really talks about his soulmate,” Jungkook added, a sigh following after.
You stole a glance at the name inked on his skin peaking from behind his sleeve. “Huh,” you began, turning your attention back towards the three, “Taehyung ever mention that I’m Broken?”
“First thing he mentioned when he talked about you,” Hoseok said, giving a small shrug.
“So you guys don’t mind?”
Jungkook laughed. “You’re no different from us. There are some things that are different, but nothing that would make you different.”
You were silent, taking in what Jungkook had just said. They didn’t see you as what the rest of the world saw you. They didn’t see you as Broken. They saw you as a normal human being. It was strange, to be honest. No one has ever looked at you the way they looked at you. No one at the orphanage looked at you like you were normal. Your parents never looked at you like you were their child. No one at the academy even bothered to look at you. And those who are Broken as well, they looked at one another as if they were waiting. Every single one of them looked at each other expectantly. You were all just waiting for one of them to die. Waiting for your own turn.
“Cupcake.” Taehyung pinched your cheek.
You placed your hand over your sore cheek. Frowning, you said, “Ow, what the hell Taehyung?”
He chuckled. “I said I’ll be back,” he informed you, making his way towards the exit with Jimin.
“Where’s he going?” you asked the others, watching the door close behind him.
“Chat with Jimin since the two have been distant from one another,” Hoseok said, shaking his head. “Took them long enough.”
Uhm.. if prompts still go... fenris is said to be VERY beautiful and I guess he can look scary but it wouldn't be weird to have people interested in him (esp. in Kirkwall) so... uhm.. jealous Hawke? Maybe? (God... I am sorry... I'm Bad at this.. )
Something in Fenris wondered at the look on Hawke’s face.
Something in him relished it.
No – while Hawke had, once or twice, purposefully roused his
jealousy simply to prove a point, Fenris was above resorting to such filthy,
underhanded tactics. He had his own weapons to use when they were annoyed each
other. But even still, there was something especially intriguing, even
thrilling, at watching the tense coil of Hawke’s muscles beneath his formal
jacket as he moved to put himself between Fenris and the slightly drunk
nobleman who had been suggesting the elf follow him up to his guest room. Hawke
looked so big – looming – his big
shoulders heavy and taut, his mouth frowning, a thin, stern line. His eyes were
like liquid gold, and no amount of wine in the country could have spared the
nobleman the knowledge of the wrath they held.
“He has other arrangements,” Hawke said, his voice low, and
hard, and dangerous.
The fool was not so foolish that he didn’t quickly find somewhere else to be.
Hawke’s anger deflated into a look of embarrassment when he
turned and found Fenris watching him – as if in his rage, and his need to step
in, he had forgotten the one he was supposedly defending. He opened his mouth
to say something, but before he could he was interrupted – a gaggle of nobles
swarming, as they did, aflutter over the commotion. Hawke looked at him helplessly, and Fenris took the
opportunity to slip away.
Hawke found him, later, in the estate’s gardens. He stopped
when they made eye contact, and looked guilty, and began to approach more
“Ah,” he said, his big hands spreading, palm up, empty. His
frown was like a thundercloud, as if he was preparing for confrontation. “I
know you could have handled that yourself.”
He stopped, and waited for a bit, expression growing darker
when Fenris didn’t answer.
“I heard that too many severed limbs at a party is
considered gauche,” Hawke said. “Anyway, I was tired of watching him follow you
around. He was harassing you. It was annoying me. That’s all.”
Fenris tilted his head, regarding him curiously. The night
was warm and dark around them, spicy with the garden florals. The high walls
around them gave a sense of displacement from the party still going on inside,
as if they shared an entirely different world. Finally, he decided to speak. “What
would you have done if he hadn’t left?”
“Smashed his nose into the back of his skull,” Hawke said,
without hesitation. After a beat, he winced. “In retrospect,” he said, “I
acknowledge – I was being a possessive, jealous brute. The right to nose
smashing was entirely yours, not mine. Shit. Fenris…”
“You don’t think I
was encouraging it?” Fenris asked.
Hawke looked up quickly in surprise, and Fenris watched the
way his brow knit, his lips thinning. There was a particular way he held his jaw when something bothered him. He didn’t like the idea. He shook his
head. “That didn’t occur to me,” he said.
“Well, were you?”
“Then I was right, wasn’t I?”
Fenris snorted. He rose from his seat on one of the benches,
leaving his wine behind, and Hawke looked surprised when he pushed up on his
toes to kiss him.
“It’s surprising – how it feels to see you angry on my
behalf,” Fenris said. Hawke’s lips had softened against his own, but he still looked unsure.
“You aren’t angry?” the mage asked.
Fenris said, “I’m flattered.
Hawke frowned at him. Fenris lifted his brows. He wasn’t
going to explain how it still felt like a strange and alien thing, having
people who cared for his well-being. He was not Hawke’s possession, to be taken
out and shown off. He liked that Hawke didn’t need reminding of it.
“Defending my honor,” Fenris murmured, and kissed him again. “How very chivalrous.”
Hawke said, “You’re making fun of me.”
“Take me home and I’ll show you that I’m not.”
Hawke was still frowning, but he bent his head, and he kissed Fenris, and Fenris felt warm. He smiled to meet that frown, and curled his
fingers in Hawke’s hair, and he hoped every noble in the estate happened to
glance out the window and see them.
Note: Hey this one is a really dark and deep one shot and mentions suicide and self hatred,
Summary: I dont really how to explain this one, but read the warnings.
Also tell me what you thnk of the imagines. I want to know what people think of the imagines so far, since im still new to tumblr. If anyone see this anyway
I walked down the hallway of Midtown High School with my arms covered in long sleeves to hide the lined cuts on both of my wrists. I was wearing jeans, a long sleeve shirt and a light oversized hoodie, and converse shoes. I kept my head down as I tried to dodge people by looking at their shoes instead of looking straight up.
I didn’t need to pass the burden onto other people when they would see my ugly face. I walked to the library which had become my second home and looked up for the first time today to admire the display of books.
The Midtown library had desk for the librarian and tables and chairs in the center than around it, long isles surrounded in books.
I walked to the left and went all the way to the wall and walked to the corner, which was the farthest away from everybody else who had currently been sitting in the middle.
When I got to the isolated place I picked out the book I had been read for two days now, and sat on the floor to start reading it.
“No Ned, for the last time I can’t summon thousands of spiders to do my bidding.” I heard someone whisper/yell. As I heard the steps get closer i went farther into the corner putting my hoodie on ad keeping my head down focusing on the book instead of the two figures coming my way.
“Ok but you should have that power if you are spiderman.” I instantly raised my head at the mention of the blue and red latex suit hero.
I heard the footsteps stop as they were a couple feet away from me. “You see the girl with the hood in the corner too right?” I heard one of the voices whisper as I immediately recognized him as Peter Parker, my crush for a year now. If that was Peter then clearly he was with Ned, his best friend.
I heard the movement of a jacket and a pair of shoes step closer to me, making it clear Peter had been shoved closer to me. I felt my cheeks flush with embarrassment, but being glad because it wouldn’t be visible with my darker skin tone.
I looked up to see Peter bent down about to talk to me when his mouth dropped open. “I-uh. H-h-hi, I’m Peter Parker, and that’s my friend Ned. Please don’t kill us, we haven’t done anything wrong I promise.” He looked at me in fear.
I couldn’t help but question how stupid the smartest boy in my chemistry class was. I quickly put my head back down hoping he wouldn’t pry further and just walk away, but unfortunately he didn’t.
“Watch, she’ll start following you around now since you started talking to her.” Ned said, fear traced in his voice.
I couldn’t help but chuckle as the two idiots kept going on about how i’d curse them and that i’m a demon ghost. “See look she’s laughing now!” Ned whispered. “I’m telling you she’s a demon!”
I stopped laughing and looked up slightly to still see Peter’s knees as he contemplated on what to do next. “She’s not a ghost Ned, it’s the girl from Chemistry that sits next to me.” He looked at me again and fro what I could tell her was studying my features, which led to me putting my head further down to cover my ugly face. “Hey, I’m sorry for assuming you were a ghost. Do you need help up?” He asked me with a gentle voice.
I shook my head no and forced myself to no look in the eyes of my crush. “You sure? There’s tables in the middle of the library if you preferred that better.”
And have everyone see me and my ugly body? No thanks. I thought to myself. “I kind of like reading here. Keeps all the idiotic thoughts from everybody else to rub off on me.” I piped, trying to make a joke, something I hadn’t done in a long time.
I heard Ned laugh and Peter chuckle. “Trust me, after being friends with this idiot for a while, I know that’s true.” Peter said. Ned then started to argue saying that Peter was the dumb one in their friendship while Peter argued the opposite.
I grabbed the sleeves of my hoodie and tucked my hands into them so that they weren’t visible and had to control myself from letting out a fit of giggles. I looked up as Peter’s eyes met mine, I saw the amusement in his eyes fade away and quickly looked back down. “You have a really pretty smile.” He said as if all the oxygen in the world had been taken away and he had one last breath.
“Thanks.” I quietly said.
Your smile may be nice but you weight isn’t
He’s lying to you to make you feel better
He’s just trying to be nice, since you ARE all alone
I walked into the cozy apartment on the 7th floor and stood there trying to steady my breathing again after walking all those flights of stairs.
I looked at the note on the countertop of the kitchen and I could already tell it was from my distant mother saying she was away on a business trip, when really she was probably with another rich boyfriend on a cruise halfway to hawaii or something like that.
I flicked the note across the table onto the floor and walked into the bathroom. I rummaged through one of the drawers of the sink until i found what I was looking for. The small compartment was a secret, something you couldn’t really see unless you sprained your eyes and felt everything closely. But for me it was easy to find since I went through it almost every week for the past couple months. I grabbed the box inside the compartment and pulled it out.
The small box was red and had a lock on where you would open it. I put in the pin and took out the razor blade. I sadly smiled and I felt a tear run down my cheek on to the blade. I took the blade and pressed it against my wrist waiting for the pain to be taken away for at least a minute.”
You fuck up everything you touch
Your a waste of air
Your fat, ugly, stupid
You deserve this pain
It was the same thing everyday, I’d enter school with my head down, read in the library, Peter and Ned would meet me by the corner and we’d talk, I’d go to class, Then I’d leave school at the end of the day.
But this time it would be, this time it would be my last time doing it all. And for the first time in months I looked up and recognized all the faces I really hadn’t paid attention enough to look at. I had worn a T-shirt for the first time in a year and it was a pretty pale yellow with black and white stripes.
I looked up for the first time while walking through the hallways and my hoodie wasn’t on. I read in the center of the library this time, except I didn’t sit in a chair instead I sat on the table farthest back and to Peter and Ned’s surprise it was the first time I really ever made myself known.
“I see someone is in a good mood today.” I looked up at Peter’s smiling face and noticed his best friend wasn’t by his side. “Ned was sick.” He explained.
For the last time ever I studied Peter’s features, taking in his swooped hair, bright smile, big brown eyes, and the warmth in his voice. “Is there something on my face? I thought I wiped off all the crumbs from my croissant!” He turned away and started furiously swiping away at his mouth.
I giggled and stood up to turn his body back to me. “You don’t have anything on your face, it’s just…….” I couldn’t help but tear up. “I’m going to miss you.” I smiled, something I could only do when Peter was around. “That’s all.”
He gave me a weird look and chuckled. “I’ll see you in Chem. weirdo.” I watched as Peter walked out of the library to his first class as the bell rang.
I walked out of Midtown School of Science and took a breath in as peter walked by my side. After that run in, in the library me and Peter had become friends, or what I had labeled a friendship. And since his house wasn’t that far from mine we’d both take the train and he’d walk me to my house.
As we took that last step and walked to my apartment door I gave Peter a hug, something I had never done. He stiffened then relaxed a bit hugging me back. After a couple second I stepped back and walked into my apartment looking at Peter and noticed his eyes move towards my wrist and his eyes harden. “Y/N…” He said.
I quickly covered my wrist and looked at Peter straight in the eyes. “I have to go Peter. Bye.” I gave him tight smile and walked into my apartment and closed the door. A couple seconds later I heard pounding and Peter yelling my name.
I waited until sunset to stand on my fire escape, ready to let myself fall to my death. I stared at the sky once more taking in the colors and noises of New York then stood at the ladder and fell forward ready for it all to end.
But it didn’t come. Instead you felt yourself being swung from the left side and go higher as if you were flying. You opened your eyes to see Spiderman holding onto your waist as he looked for an empty place to settle both of you.
As you felt your feet land on the ground you felt a force and then your body being pushed to the wall hearing ‘thwip’ and other sounds. You opened your eyes and look down to see yourself webbed to a wall on an apartment.
You sobbed to yourself as you stared at the ground below your feet. The second you jumped you regretted it, there were other ways to fixing your problems, and suicide wasn’t one of them
You watched as the masked hero paced around muttering things to himself. He then stopped and looked at you. “Why?” He asked, his voice cracking slightly. “How could you do this to me? How could you do it to your family, to everyone in your life who cares so much about you?”
You couldn’t help but let he puzzled expression on your face show, what did he mean by you choice affecting him? You then realized everything.
The body language.
The body shape.
How he was always running off somewhere.
Or when he came to school with a bruise.
“Peter?” You looked at him, feeling your insides break at the thought of hurting someone else. You thought if you weren’t alive maybe you’d be doing good for the world. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” You started to sob again as he came rushing over taking the webs off and hugging you as you fell to the ground.
He held you shoulder length apart and looked at you straight in the eyes. “You ARE loved.”