what would his last words to her have been if he thought that was it

Ten Years, Too Later

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Bucky comes back into your life after ten years, when things were falling apart, only to make them harder to handle

Word Count: 2273

Warnings: angst !!!

Author’s Note: old fic, this was written for a writing challenge i hope you guys like it! :)

Masterlist Here

“We’re doing our best, Ms Y/N. All we can say, is have a little faith in God.” Dr Lloyd sympathetically said, keeping her hand on yours, giving it a tight squeeze before she finally leaves.

Your breath wavered as you watched her go back in her office.

You were starting to feel nauseous, the white walls of the hospital doing no good to make you feel better and to top that, the foul scent of meds everywhere made you want to throw up. You stumble back on your feet, hands reaching back for the armrests of a chair behind you. Your legs felt like they could give in any second; its better you sit – before the emotional trauma hits you.

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Breaking Free

Characters: Dean Winchester, Y/N Winchester, Sam Winchester, Lady Toni Bevel

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Warnings:  season 12.22 spoilers (if that’s still spoilers), not much. SPN stuff. If you can watch the show you can read this.

Word Count: 2100ish

A/N: This is my entry for @percywinchester27 aka Ana’s PJO Quote Challenge and my prompt was: “It’s okay,” he said. “We’re together.” He didn’t say you’re okay, or we’re alive. After all they’d been through over the last year, he knew that the most important thing was that they were together. She loved him for saying that. - I changed the prompt a little bit to fit the fic. I hope that is okay.  

Thanks to the sweet, amazing, lovely @like-a-bag-of-potatoes  for betaing this for me.

***My fics are not to be saved nor posted on any other sites without my express written permission.***

You fell to the floor with your back pushed to the wall and your legs folded up under you as you watched your husband run up the steps to try to catch the door before it closed between the four of you and the world outside.

The moment you heard him scream was the moment you gave up all hope. It was the moment you started believing this was the beginning of the end. It had all happened so sudden. Over the past year you had started believing everything was going to be perfect. Or at least as perfect as it would ever get for hunters.

Lucifer’s baby was still about to be born and you had, like your husband, never trusted the Brits, but Dean was okay. The mark was gone. Amara was gone. For the first time in years you felt as if you had the man you married back. Fully and completely. Dean was himself and as long as you had him, there had never been anything you hadn’t been able to struggle through.

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Once Upon A Dream (Part One)

Fandom: Riverdale
Pairing: Sweet Pea x Reader/OC
Rating: NSFW, Mature
Warnings: Language/Cursing, Adult Themes/Situations, Emotional Stress/Angst, Gang Activity, Underage Drinking/Drug Useage (Party responsibly!), Rivalry, Smut!
Format: Part One of Three

Note: So this is a little something that popped into my head, inspired by the song, Wildest Dreams. Silly, I know, but some of those lines just seem to fit Sweet Pea so well. I couldn’t resist. This has a slight AU!Quality, where there is a strong football rivalry between the Southside High and Riverdale High. Cliche, perhaps, but I lovee it. There’s some Archie!Angst in the beginning, so if any of you are a sucker for that! This will be a three part mini-series, and should wrap up after the third part!

Looking at him, she couldn’t help but think he was beautiful.

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Coming Home (Chapter 16)

We get to see Tony smile this chapter and honestly its the best. Short chapter building up to bigger things!


Enjoy :)


Clint was still wearing his collar the next morning, and Tony couldn’t go more than five minutes without snatching the Omega close and nosing over his face and into his hair, mouthing down his neck to dig his teeth into the thick collar.

Clint didn’t do much more than lay his head back to encourage his Alpha closer, dragging his fingers through Tony’s feathers and backing up into any available wall or door so Tony could rock against him.

The first batch of pancakes burned because Clint had purred something into Tony’s ear that made the Alphas eyes shoot to red, and when Bruce came running up from the lab to see why the hell the smoke alarms were going off, he found Clint up on the kitchen counter, Tony wedged between his thighs crooning something about smart ass and beautiful and mine.

Bruce said a silent prayer of relief that he was basically immune to the pheromones that were no doubt flooding the kitchen, and pushed and poked at Tony until the Alpha laughed and peeled away from Clint, leaving a sweet kiss on his lips and turning to take care of the disaster that was the pancakes.

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TITLE — long distance.
WARNINGS — mature content and some swearing.
WORD COUNT — 2,901 words.
AUTHOR’S NOTE — i can’t even believe my last fic got over 300 notes, that’s insane, thank you so much. uh, this was supposed to be short and smutty but the angst in me came out to wreak havoc. it also turned out much longer than i intended (story of my life). and that fluff bit at the end? i don’t know her. anyway, hope you enjoy it, thanks for reading !

You’re woken up at 2:09 AM by a constant and nagging vibration, the glare of your phone guiding you as you blindly reach for the device. Through heavy-lidded eyes you study the name displayed on the screen and the sappy emojis that follow.

It’s your boyfriend.

“Hey,” you say, voice dripping with dread and worry, and fatigue. It’s silent on the other end safe for some rustling and just as you’re about to call after him, there’s a muted groan.

“B-bae?” He sighs into the transmitter—a sigh of relief. “Fuck,” he sobs. “I miss y-you. I… fuck.” Another sob. “Baby?”

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there’s a pretty girl at the door | peter parker imagine

Summary: When you return to Queens after moving away, you find yourself reconnecting with old friends, as well as making new ones.

Warnings: fluff ig??, also trash writing oOps (if you have any warnings you’d like me to use please lmk!)

Word Count: 2,480

A/N: honestly, idek what this is. it started as a few paragraphs and then wh00ps. it’s not the best thing i’ve ever written but here it is :/ anyways… i wrote this super quick and didn’t go back to revise/edit so if you notice any mistakes please tell me about them! i’d also appreciate any feedback you have for me… i’m always looking to improve! :}

     She was obnoxious and unforgiving. Her loud and violent nature was immutable, and she was, in essence, the vilest being to ever exist. From the bravest of brave to the strongest of strong: many have taken on her challenging cry, but none have been able to resist her alluring song. The delicate melody hisses and bites at your ears, and the sinister tune infects your thoughts and shakes you to your core.

    You didn’t expect that it would come so soon, but alas, it was your turn to challenge the infamous she-beast. As much as you tried to defy the temptation of her enchanting chorus, you were consumed by the captivating rhythm and demandingness of the euphony.

    You reluctantly sacrifice the warmth of your covers and relinquish your peaceful slumber to the villain that is your alarm clock.

    Of all the daily struggles that come with being a teenager, waking up is the harshest burden you have to face. The will to sleep always seems to tease and taunt you throughout the day, only to vanish when you crawl under those sheets. Nevertheless, it is a necessary evil, and waking up is the gateway to wonderful (and not-so-wonderful) days.

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Do you wanna be a Serpent? Part 5

She was angry with him, he could tell in the stiffness of her spine as she breezed past him in the cafeteria, in the way she looked anywhere but his direction during cheerleading practice, but when he found the blue and gold office locked and empty two days later there was really no denying it, Betty Cooper was angry with him and an angry Betty Cooper? Well that was nothing to be messed with.

It was all very confusing, things had been going well, better than well, great actually. He was happy, she made him happy and he thought he did the same for her, judging by the way her fingers would squeeze his hand under their chemistry table, or the way her nose would nuzzle the cool leather of his jacket collar when she hugged him for luck before his first football game, the curl of her smile when his knuckles would graze the soft pink flush of her cheeks. He was happy and he knew she was too, he knew it, so why was she hiding from him, avoiding him, the distance physically hurting him. He needed her here, right next to him.

“Looking for someone?” Toni spoke up from his right, the flash of her camera blinding him for a moment as his eyes adjusted.

“Knock that shit off Topaz.” Jughead growled, Betty wasn’t in the cafeteria and she wasn’t in the gym, she wasn’t in the office and she wasn’t helping the freshman in the tutoring center, he had looked everywhere and the lack of his very favorite blonde soured his already anxious mood.

“I just think you’re pretty is all.” Toni smirked, dropping her camera on the table and putting her chin in her hands, staring at Jughead “you know it never would’ve worked anyway, she’s not meant to be around people like us.” Toni offered, a bitter tint to her tone.

Jugheads head snapped up towards the purple haired serpent. “What are you talking about?” His eyes narrowed, something wasn’t right.

Toni shrugged, her hands tugging at the mesh of her top

“I’m just saying, you don’t have time for some bubblegum princess , you have shit to do on the Southside do you really think spending time with Barbie is a good idea? Come on Jughead use your head.” Toni snorted humorlessly, her posture stiff. “Besides…” her hand slid across the table, Black painted nails stroking the back of his palm “What about us?”

Jughead ripped his hand away

“What about us?” He sneered “there is no us, there never was, I told you Toni That kiss meant nothing, it was months ago and I had just gotten the shit kicked out of me by the ghoulies, I was tired and sore. I love you Toni, but not like that, I’ve Never led you on, I’ve never lied to you. You need to move on.”

Toni threw her hands on the cafeteria table, the sound of her rings clanging against the metal made Jughead flinch

“Everything we’ve been through? We grew up together, we’re supposed to be together! Don’t you see that? You want to throw all of that away for some privileged, spoiled townie? She doesn’t know you? She’ll never get you like I do. She doesn’t care about you, she didn’t even fight for you when I told her….” Toni trailed off, her face was scrunched, her eyes dangerously guilty but there wasn’t a hint of regret lingering.

The Serpent prince stood up, his height towering over the female photographers tiny frame

“what did you tell her? What did you say to Betty.” He demanded, his words coming out in a hiss, he vaguely registered Sweetpea and Fangs coming to stand behind him.

Toni snorted

“I’m not scared of you, I told her exactly what everyone already knows. You’ll never want her, she’s fun for now but everyone knows it won’t last long, you’re from two different worlds. You’ll end up with me. It’s just how it is,how it’s always been.” Toni smiled, it was different now though, wicked and deceitful.

Sweetpea spoke up from behind Jughead

“You’re done Toni.” He snorted as Fangs shook his head

“Not cool Toni. Not cool at all.”

The Serpents had grown fairly fond of Betty, the tiny cheerleader was helping them all pass their classes with her extensive tutoring and she was almost always admiring their bikes and cars, stroking the Serpents ever growing egos. Fangs and Sweetpea in particular were captains of the Betty Cooper fan club and Toni’s increasingly cocky attitude was beginning to grate their nerves.

Jughead turned quickly, his face so close to Toni’s he could hear the sharp intake of breath the frightened girl took.

“Don’t go near Betty, don’t talk to her, don’t look at her. If I catch you in the same room as her you’re done. Done with the Serpents and done with me. Stay the hell away from me Toni Topaz.” Jughead moved back, his combat boots pounding the cafeteria floor as he ran through the double doors.

Jugheads stomach twisted painfully, she thought he was playing her, using her. Betty probably assumed he was exactly like the stories said, the Serpent Prince, takes what he wants and leaves. It wasn’t true, not with her, never with her.

“Hey Jones, where’s the fire?” Archie whipped around from his locker, his normal goofy smile plastered across his face slowing Jugheads Run.

“Have you seen Betty?” The out of breath teen panted, his eyes looking around frantically.

Archie slammed his locker shut, his hands shoved into the pockets of his letterman jacket

“Listen Jones, Ive known Betty since birth, we used to run around in diapers through the sprinkler. I love that girl, but I like you bro, you’re cool and I can tell care about her. She’s a strong girl but she’s been through too much to be dicked around. You gotta be careful with her.” Archie nodded his head towards the locker room. Jughead nodded quickly, he turned around before he headed towards the gym

“I like her a lot. If she’ll have me I’ll treat her right, I’m gonna take care of her, protect her. I’m gonna treat her how she deserves to be treated.. I just… I want you to know that.” Jughead rubbed the back of his neck nervously as his eyes fell to the floor.

The redhead chuckled

“I don’t know much about you Jughead Jones but I know you’re a good dude. I think we’re gonna be good friends. Now go, go get your girl.” He smirked.

Jughead grinned, his feet carrying him to the locker room where he found her folding up her cheerleading uniform, her eyes landing on his.

“Jughead..” She whispered

“I like you Betty Cooper, i care about you.” He stated simply, chest rising and falling as he stared helplessly at the beautiful girl in front of him.

“I…What?” Betty whispered.

Jughead took a deep breath

“I like you, I like having you close to me, i like hearing you laugh, I like the way you know more about my motorcycle than me, I like the way you curl your hair around your finger when you’re nervous. I like how even though I know Toni said terrible things to you you’re still standing here listening, not judging. I like you Betty Cooper and I want you to know that I’m not giving up on you, no matter what you do, no matter what this stupid civil war throws at us I’m not giving up. And even if you don’t want to be around me I’m still going to be here, to protect you, to watch out for you because I care about you and I don’t even know why the thought of never talking to you again makes me feel physically sick…” Jughead knew he was rambling, he knew that he wasn’t making any sense but he couldn’t stop, not until he smelled the honey and vanilla of Betty’s perfume filling his nose.

Betty’s bright green eyes were filled with tears and her hands were placed on his chest.

“Jughead Jones I like you too.” She whispered

“And as much as id like to list all of the things I like about you, I really really need you to kiss me right now Okay?” She grinned.

Jugheads hands found her waist, pulling her closer to him

“As you wish sunshine.”

His lips met hers.


Let Me Treat You Right (2/2) *Billy Hargrove x R/ Steve Harrington x R*

Originally posted by xananeedscoffee

Originally posted by bellamybalke

Summary: Steve Harrington x Reader where the last time you talked to Steve and Johnathan (you three + Nancy were really close but you still hang out with Nancy) was defeating the demogorgon for the first time, but you drifted apart bc you started dating Billy and it’s like lowkey a pretty toxic and controlling relationship but Y/N is blind to it and eventually Steve, through Nancy, reveals to you that Billy’s cheating on you and he’s in love with you 
Warnings: Obviously, toxic relationship. 
Pairings: Billy Hargrove x Reader & Mention, suggestion to Steve Harrington x Reader
Written by: @guess-who-cares

I have some really great friends, I’ve been pretty busy with work and writing series that doing requests have been pushed to the back. But, my friends offered to write this request for me and I am forever grateful. - Rosalie

You walked into the gym hoping to find Billy playing basketball with the other guys during free period but he was nowhere in sight. He’s been here every day during free period. He was always on the skins team. You don’t think you’ve ever seen him on the shirts team. But let’s be honest, he did that on purpose. He was built pretty well after all…

“Hey, Jimmy.” You called after he blocked a shot.

“Hey…what’s your name? I’m sorry.”

“(Y/n). Billy’s girlfriend?”

“Oh. Oh! Oh yeah he’s mentioned you. What’s up?” Jimmy asked holding the basketball under his arm. One of his friends stuck up behind him and stole the ball, going off on a breakaway and scoring a basket on the other side. “Aw come on! That doesn’t count! I was distracted!” He motioned back to you.

“Sorry.” You said in a small voice. “Do you know where Billy is?”

“Yeah. He said he was going to the bathroom I think.” Jimmy said turning back to the game.

“Who?” One of his friends asked.

“She wants to know where Billy went.”

“Oh yeah. Yeah he’s taking a long time if you know what I’m saying.” His friend laughed. A wave of realization and hot shame washed over you suddenly.


You found yourself speeding down the hall towards the boy’s restroom. You dropped your books some distance back but you were too concerned with what could be happening to care about that. You ended up crashing into Nancy when you turned the corner.

“Nancy! I’m so sorry!” You said realizing you were out of breath. Nancy placed her hands on your shoulders.

“(Y/n). It’s okay. Why are you so out of breath?”

“Do you know where Billy is?”

“About that…” Nancy said in a calm voice.

“You know where he is?” You asked still in a panic.

“Yes but-”

“Get out of here Harington!” Billy yelled from around the corner, “You’re not king here anymore. And guess what? No one cares what you think about me.” You pushed past Nancy to find Billy yelling at Steve, “You did this shit last year. You know how it goes.”

“Just because I did it doesn’t make it right. You’re a terrible person, you know that? (Y/n) could do so much better than you. Easily.” Steve said.

Billy’s hair was ruffled. He had a hickey you didn’t give him on his neck. His shirt was untucked and wrinkled and he didn’t have his jacket. Your were frozen to the spot. Steve turned his head to look at you. Billy turned to look at whatever Steve was after he saw his expression soften.

“(Y/n).” Billy said coming up to you. You didn’t move. You looked straight ahead. “Your friend Steve just tried to beat me up.”

“So who’s in the bathroom this time?” You asked without making eye contact with him.

“This time?” Steve and Nancy asked in unison.

“No one! There’s no one in the bathroom.” Billy said sliding his hands down your arms to your butt. You stepped back suddenly.

“Where’s your jacket?” You asked in a monotone voice. You knew the answers to these questions but you wanted to hear what he had to say for himself.

“Steve threw it in his locker.”

“Where’d that come from?” You said tapping the hickey on his neck.

“You gave it to me last night. Remember?” He said making his voice as gentle as he could manage.

“No. I don’t remember it from this morning either.”

“I got you so drunk last night you probably don’t remember.”

“I don’t remember it from this morning.” You said in a firm tone.

“It wasn’t there this morning.” Steve said. Billy glared at him.

“So Katherine isn’t on the other side of that door fixing her skirt and wearing your jacket waiting for the coast to be clear now is she?”

“No! Why would she be? She’s such a dumb slut.” Billy said as Katherine emerged from the boy’s restroom holding Billy’s jacket with a deeply offended look on her face.

“First of all. I have some problems with what you just said. I’m sure she does too.” You said pointing behind Billy. He turned just in time for the jacket to hit him square in the face. Katherine stormed off in the other direction. Billy’s mouth opened but no words came out. “I can’t believe I thought you weren’t as bad a person as you put up. Turns out you’re an ass all the way through. Go back to California.” You said beginning to walk away. Tears began welling up in your eyes as you round the corner. Steve ran up to trail behind you. He had no idea where you were going but he was going to be there for you.

“(Y/n)!” Billy called out. You didn’t turn back.


“Where’s Nancy?” You asked Steve simply.

“She had to get back to class.”

“Don’t you?”

“Yeah but I’m not going to.”

“Why? You don’t have anything better to do than deliver Nancy’s ‘I told you so’ speech?” You asked standing in the main entrance of the school.

“Not entirely. I can drive you home if you want.”

“That would be… that would be great actually.” You said looking up at him.


Steve pulled up to your house continuing the silence of the drive there. “So? The I told you so speech?” You asked.

“I don’t have one.”

“You have your thoughts on it though.” You said looking up at the sky through the parked car’s passenger window.

“Of course I do. You wanna know what they are?” Steve said. You shrugged. “Well even if that meant no, I’m going to tell you anyway.” Steve paused. “I think you can do better. Almost anyone could be better than him. I wanted to tell you what I thought about him from the start but you seemed happy and I didn’t want to ruin that happiness. Even though now that I’m thinking about it, I could have saved you from this pain if I did tell you and I’m really sorry I’m just realizing this now but-”

“I would have ignored you anyway.” You said being honest with Steve and yourself.

“You would have?”

“Yes. It’s not you. Trust me. It’s just kind of the way I am. I don’t really know how to explain it but I would have ignored you.” You said. Steve was silent, “Anyway. You seem like you had a point besides that.”

“I was going to say that I think I could do better if you let me.” Steve said quickly.


“If you let me, I feel like I could definitely treat you better. I mean I’m obviously going to give you time to heal and all but… but just think it over for me will you?” Steve said looking into your eyes. You nodded without breaking eye contact before opening the door.

“Hey.” Steve said as you began to get out. “Come back here.” His arms were outstretched. You let him wrap you into a hug for a while. Only now did you realize how stilted and fake Billy’s hugs felt.

Steve kissed you on the cheek before he let go, watching you walk up to your front door before driving away.

(Again, thank you to Anna, who wrote this. This is such a good thing also, I am happy to post this to my blog – on to my next point, if you’re a writer and don’t really want to create a blog, you’re welcome to submit your works to my blog of your writings and they’ll be posted. - Rosalie)

Hiraeth - Five

Originally posted by the-xclan

☽Pairing☾ ; BTS | Reader

☽Genre☾ ; Angst | Fluff

☽Word Count☾ ; 1.7k

☽Summary☾ Returning back to Korea after years of being under the ground, to see your parents. You wished it was all it took, to feel complete again. The aftermath of confusion, betrayal and sorrow was the reason to never come back into the boys presents. But it wasn’t until, seeing one them enter the same cafe, at the right time.

☽Notes☾ ;  Part Four | Part Six (Soon)

“You’re lying”

“Why would I lie about such a thing?”  

“Because it’s you, Jisu. That’s why.” Wonho snickered in defence, standing up to watch the smirk grow on the women at his couch. His head ringing and banging as the memories returned of your last moments together, as a couple.  

“Because you were such a good boyfriend yourself-” Jisu spat, hitting right in the chest of Wonho. His stupidity to mess around with the enemy, and yet, even without your presence, he continues. “-The presents… late night phone calls with her… while you were right beside Soomi in bed, snuggled and cuddled together under the same blanket of mischief? Right?” Jisu continued to add on, while the feeling of confidence over washed by his grief and regret. The overpowering feel, of doing something so wrong, that the addiction to not get caught became too big.  

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Snip. Snip.

Title: Snip. Snip.

Summary: A fresh cut and a fresh perspective.

Friendship, humor, light angst with a very hopeful byeler ending, coming out, Steve being such a dad, schmoopy feels, and appearances by the whole group, a tiny bit of period typical internal homophobia.

This was probably the fastest I’ve ever written anything and I had such a blast writing it. It’s light and fun and I think probably will need a sequel or two because, while I meant it as a one off, I just think I may need to write more. I hope anyone who reads it enjoys it. I was supposed to tag someone in this but I forgot I am so sorry /0 I hope you find it regardless.

Will looked out from behind the frill of the curtain that lined the front window, observing the way Jonathan and Nancy and Steve danced around each other; it was an awakard display of body language and just seeing the pantomime play out in front of him was enough to make Will feel a pang of sympathy. Jonathan and Nancy were driving an hour away to a concert–some little known band that Jonathan adored and Nancy only tolerated because she loved him–and Steve had stopped by to drop off something or another that Nancy had apparently needed desperately. Will wasn’t exactly sure what the deal was with the three of them anymore. They weren’t exactly friends, but they weren’t enemies either. They had been through too much together for that. It was just weird. He’d wanted to ask his brother about all of it but had feared what other kinds of discussions it could bring up. They’d never discussed relationships and dating and such before and Will just….wanted to avoid that. At all cost.

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Pregnant -- Steve Harrington

Written by @sarahaarowe

Request: Can you do steve x reader?? Where r is hoppers’s daughter and she and steve are dating mabe he get her pregnant and they have to tell hopper. Thank you

Warnings: Cursing.

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Reader

Summary: You and your boyfriend Steve deliver the news to Hopper that he’s going to be a grandfather.

Word Count: 880

Listen to: Papa Don’t Preach by Madonna [I know, how original of me]

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Aberrations || 9

Author: RandomBTSPrincessa


Characters: Yoongi x Reader (Just a little bit more, I promise)

Chapters:  01  02  03  04  05  06  07  08

A/N: The next part will be the last. Also, I recommend listening to Hold Me Tight by BTS (obviously) for this chapter. The vocal part will be the Reader’s and the rap part is Yoongi’s. Enjoy, lovelies!

Originally posted by jinje-reactions

Life had slowed down in some stages for me while picked up pace in other stages.

I no longer could tell where my nights went, quiet and spent in the solace of my bedroom while my laptop played all the hits of misery and melancholy and chocolate ice cream was my main man and my bed my soul mate. The nights never seemed to want to stay though, slipping through my fingers like sand, 10 hours passing by in the blink of an eye. I would close my eyes and it would be day.

The days however dragged on and on and on.

I couldn’t afford to sit at home all the time so I had to go to classes, sitting through them distracted and not getting anything except marks for attendance. I figured, I could always ask one of my classmates for help getting the coursework…when I got over the catastrophe my life had become.

There were two classes I avoided like the plague though; Singing and Music Production.

There was no way Sehun or Min Yoongi would be missing their classes over me and I was in no way ready to look either of them in the eye yet. I had to sit in one of the on campus cafes but the hours always seemed to go like a snail weaving its way through a maze of salt.

I had cursed Time to the very pits of hell, right next to Min Yoongi.

He and Sehun had nearly completely vanished from my life, Sehun less than Yoongi. I still saw him around, walking about with his friends, sometimes girls, sometimes boys, looking perfectly groomed as always, the Golden Boy. He never seemed to be aware of my watching him and after a while he stopped looking like there was something wrong with his life.

The rumor that Oh Sehun and Y/L/N Y/N had broken up reached me a week later which made me wonder if Sehun had actually somehow withheld the information to save whatever damage that would cause his image but it didn’t seem like it. He was brilliant as always…

…and I didn’t miss him…not even a bit.

Yoongi however, I never saw. It wasn’t that surprising; I hadn’t even known he went to the same college until the project so it made sense I wouldn’t see him around later. This had been the plan, hadn’t it? To see through the project, then bid adieu. Well, that hadn’t worked but oh well.

In comparison…I missed him an unnecessary amount.

Life was not fair.

“Here you go,” Taehyung placed my large helping of school work on the table and folded his arms, watching me file through them, his glasses glinting in the light.

“Thanks Tae, I don’t know what I’d do without you.” I muttered.

“Well, totally not pass the course, for one,” he said drily but grinned impishly when I rolled my eyes at him. “So, what’s wrong with you, anyway?” he asked.

“Nothing, I just don’t feel right.” I said.

“Is it cause of Min?” he asked.

I blanched at him and it was his chance to roll his eyes.

“I may not be the girls, Y/N, attuned to these things but I’m not blind. It’s been painfully obvious. What did he do? Do I need to kick his ass?” he asked.

I chuckled. Taehyung, shy and meek Taehyung kicking someone’s ass, especially Min Yoongi’s ass was comical even in its contemplative state but I was grateful he cared so much.

“No, Tae, you know I can do ass kicking myself.” I smiled.

He smiled back hesitatingly.

“So, any word on Sehun?” he asked gently.

I froze.

Taehyung knew Sehun and I had ended it but he had no idea that Yoongi had something to do with it. That information was only for the girls. I loved Taehyung but I wasn’t sure how he would take the news, seeing as he had once seen me crying because of him. Taehyung would probably go into over protective mode and do something he would regret.

No matter how laid back Yoongi seemed, I for one could tell that under all that, he was extremely powerful and I wasn’t talking about his money.

Hence, I knew Taehyung, who couldn’t stand conflict usually would want Sehun and me to get back together.

“No, Tae, it’s over…for good.” I said firmly, watching him sigh and look down, nodding.

“I guess it’s good, what with your liking Min and all.” He slung his bag on his shoulder, ignoring my gaping mouth as he dropped a kiss on top of my head.

“See you later, Y/N.” he said and left the café.

“Heard you’ve been skipping all your classes,” I smiled naturally at the familiar voice, not looking up as the boy deposited himself in the seat Taehyung had vacated, looking dubiously at all the paper work in front of me.

“You would’ve heard wrong. I am only skipping two.” I said, making him laugh.

“My bad, what can you say? The school vine sucks.” Jimin placed his head on his hands.

I looked up at him. “Why are you here?” I asked.

He pouted. “You don’t visit me anymore, I missed you.” He said. I stared at him for a bit and his playful expression dropped, replaced by seriousness. “I heard about you and Sehun. I’m sorry. I also heard about you dropping Yoongi in the project.” He said.

I peered at him. “Did he tell you that? Is that all?” I asked.

“Yeah, or more like, I found out accidentally because he was muttering about you dropping him at the last moment in the studio and how he was stuck,” He said.

“Well, tell him that I’m glad he’s suffering.” I said coolly, returning to my papers.

“Yeah, I would if I could but we’re not talking at the moment.” He said.

I frowned, “Why not?” I asked.

“Well, I…asked him what happened and you know how he is about eavesdropping. It’s fine only when he does it, apparently. I found out about Sehun’s party and stuff and I know I shouldn’t have and I am not judging you at all.” He said hastily.

“What are you talking about?” I asked.

“I know you guys kissed and how it was a mistake and it shouldn’t have happened and you were drunk and he was taking advantage so he told you to go and I…might’ve yelled at him about how he’s an idiot and now he’s mad at me. Not that that’s new anyway, he’s always mad at me.”

I suddenly felt disgusted. He couldn’t even tell the truth?

“Jimin, I’m sorry.” I said quietly.

“Don’t worry about it, he’s an ass, I know.”

“Yeah, listen, I need to go.” I said, feeling choked and restless.

I couldn’t sit here in front of Jimin’s watchful gaze. Yoongi had lied about what had happened that night to protect himself, most likely. Was that how much I mattered? No, I hadn’t mattered, I reminded myself. I was just a stupid girl, romanticising his actions. I need to stop doing that.

“Oh, okay,” Jimin looked surprised but didn’t say anything as I gathered up the papers and went off to find the girls.

“He lied?” Yerin hissed, her cheeks flushed, her legs, encased in velvet leggings kicking mine as she almost thrashed in her chair in rage.

I shrugged, stabbing some sausage with a little more force but that totally had nothing to do with our topic of conversation, none at all.

“What a jerk.”

“The nerve.”

Ara and Doona chimed in encouragingly but by then I was beyond the point of caring. If Yoongi wanted to show me that I was worth next to nothing well then, message received loud and clear. I would back off and I would show him exactly that. I was done with both Sehun and Yoongi’s crap. I was done being walked over.

Both of them would be seeing me in the next class, which happened to be in two more days. That was plenty of time, wasn’t it? I would be over all of this by Monday. I could do it.

“Well the project ends today, what do you think he did with yours?” Doona asked suddenly.

My fork hit my plate with a loud clang making the girls freeze as they eyed me.

“Um…Y/N…?” Ara asked.

“The month is over?” I asked, my voice high pitched as Ara pulled up the calendar on her phone, showing it to me.

The end of the month hit me with the force of ten freight trucks. I had been so wrapped in the entire self wallowing bubble of mine I hadn’t even thought about taking a look at the days, wanting to just get through them all together.

It suddenly felt silly.

What had it been? A fortnight, perhaps, since our last encounter. Yoongi and I, if we hadn’t been through that disaster of a night, we would just have to deal with each other for two weeks before we’d both be out of each other’s lives for good. Guess destiny had an earlier escape planned for us.

Now that the project was officially done, Taehyung and I would be partners again, further reason to attend classes, just for Tae if not for me. I couldn’t be that selfish.

The thought that Yoongi would be sitting right at the back, probably not even concerned that I had or hadn’t attended classes caused a small ache in my chest, one I crushed mercilessly. Both Sehun and Yoongi had pushed and pulled at me like I was a doll. Even if I was not completely innocent, they had no right to claim they were victimized saints.

I had trusted them that had killed a small part of me each time they let me down. I had loved them, they both hurt me. I was real with both of them and now they both hated me.

Now, though, it was time to get myself together.

I wasn’t rich; I didn’t have my position cut out like they did. No, I needed credibility. I wasn’t going to achieve that sitting at home.

Gritting my teeth, I braced myself for the next day.

Hoseok slammed the door to Min Yoongi’s house open with his shoulder, his hands struggling to juggle the snack boxes and coffees.

Yoongi looked up from the couch, arching his brows at his struggling friend.

“You know, it wouldn’t kill you to get up and give me a goddamn hand.” Hobi growled.

“I didn’t tell you to get more than you can carry.” Yoongi replied coolly, his attention already on the movie.

“You know how hungry Jimin and I get. We don’t have the luxury of sitting on our asses with headphones on all the time, acting like a jerk.” Hobi dropped the food on the coffee table before looking about.

“Where is Jimin anyway?”

“He isn’t coming.” Yoongi said.

“What, why? Chim never misses movie day and this is his recommendation.” Hobi frowned before slowly turning to look at his best friend.

“Yoongi, what did you do?” He asked.

“I may or may not have told Jimin off for butting into things that weren’t his concern and he might or might not have been offended and walked off.” Yoongi said.

Hobi worried his lips with his teeth, sighing at his friends’ childishness.

“What was the thing he butted in?” he asked.

Yoongi flicked the volume up with his remote, shrugging the question off. “Damn it, Suga, spit it out.” He snapped.

Yoongi’s eyes flashed towards his best friends with a frown. “Nothing, I was just muttering about things and he overheard. Instead of letting it go he started probing into me like a fucking therapist.” He growled.

Hobi sank into the armchair next to the couch. All the signs pointed to only one thing.

“It was Y/N, wasn’t it?” he asked angrily.

Yoongi paused for a second before leaning forwards for the cup of coffee but Hoseok was faster. He snatched the cups away and watched coolly as the other boy glared at him.

“So, it was her.” He affirmed.

“What about it? I can talk about whoever I want.” Yoongi said.

“Yoongi, you know Jimin cares about her,” Hoseok began but Yoongi broke in with a scoff.

“He cares about her a bit too much.” he spat.

“Oh god, tell me you’re not jealous. Jimin doesn’t care about her like that but he wasn’t just about to let you bad mouth her. Even I wouldn’t let you bad mouth her.” He said reasonably.

“I wasn’t bad mouthing her. Jeez, you all need to stop getting on my back about her. I might have been a dick to her that night but I haven’t even seen her since she broke it off with her boyfriend.” He dropped his jaw, sticking his lips out in a pout as unbidden, thoughts of Y/N came out of nowhere, his fingers on her skin, her soft lips brushing his, the way his hands dug into her hips, the way her eyes looked into his, her laugh at his rare and very not funny jokes.

“Wait…you saw her day she broke up with Sehun?” Hoseok asked.

Yoongi was brought back rudely to reality from reliving the feel of her hair wrapped around his fingers as he turned his head absently. “What?”

“You said you hadn’t seen her since the day she broke it off. You didn’t…what happened?” Hobi was using his cautious voice. He could feel the real cause for all his friend’s problems was sitting right there, in Yoongi’s head and he just had to know.

“I don’t know what –,”

“Yoongi,” Hoseok said warningly.

His eyes drooped, looking to his side as if he was looking at a person before he sighed. “We…slept together.” He said his voice constricted.

The curse that escaped Hobi’s mouth was so loud that Yoongi actually jumped, scowling at his usually mild friend.

“You…what?” Hobi asked.

“We didn’t plan it. It just happened.” Yoongi defended.

“Ok…ok…so you guys had sex…but then…why aren’t you guys…what else happened?” he asked.

Yoongi fiddled with the small black ring on his thumb and Hoseok actually had to punch him in the shoulder to get him to talk. Yoongi hissed, moving away from touching range.

“I said things I shouldn’t have…nothing new.” He grunted.

“Things like that time in the studio or…”


Hobi dropped his head in his hands, emitting a groan that made Yoongi drop his own head, the movie long forgotten.

My fingers clicked on the desk impatiently, frowning at the small email box open on my laptop. It had to be a mistake. There was no way he had sent that email. I clicked on the tab to fully open it.

It was from Namjoon, a short email letting me know that he had received my and Yoongi’s song, looked forward to it and hoped we matched up to expectations.

I let out a bitter huff, falling back on the chair.

What song?

I had left Yoongi in that project. There was no way he had managed to complete a song in that time and even if he had, seeing as how he was a genius, there was no way he would include me into it. He was petty enough for that. Although, he probably did it to save face for himself, because that was what he did. I had no place of note in his life after all, so it definitely wasn’t for me.

I shut the laptop and got out of my chair with a huff, picking up and satchel and jacket, looking into the mirror of my dressing table.

“You can do this.” I told myself and walked out of the house to attend my classes.

Taehyung gushed the whole time I sat next to him, finally getting our original partners back.

I had walked into the class with the aim to hold my head up high but it had faltered the second I had crossed the threshold and my head had dropped, not even skimming the chattering class as I sank into my chair, Tae turning immediately and musing about our new projects. I knew he was trying to distract me and I was grateful.

Mr. Kim didn’t seem to have much planned for the day’s class, it seemed. He congratulated us for being well behaved and responsible about the assignment, told us that grades and songs will be posted on the website before being added to our final grade.

I frowned, biting my lip, fighting the urge to turn and look for the man who’d turned my life upside down but resisted. What had he done?

When Namjoon let the class go, Taehyung immediately grabbed for my hand. “So, hot chocolate…your treat,” he said cutely and I almost melted at the hopeful look in his eyes.

“How about this; we go to your house and I make you an entire lunch…and I am dying to listen to your song.” I said. His smile turned into a grin. “Yes, that works.” He said, bouncing slightly on his feet. “Great, just give me a minute, I need to talk to Kim about something.” I said.

“Sure, meet me at my car.” He said.

“Um, Mr. Kim?” I asked.

Namjoon signed off a sheet and looked up, pushing his glasses up, “Yes, Y/N, I know, Taehyung told me you were feeling sick and had hospital appointments.” He said.

“Oh no, I mean, yeah, sir, I just wanted to talk to you about the project.” I said.

He surprised me by breaking out into a grin. “Yes, your song with Mr. Min. I must say I am impressed, Y/N. the way you came to me saying you couldn’t work with him had me thinking you would drop out of the project but you kept at it. The song is…most different from what Yoongi has delivered over the course of this semester. I was pleasantly surprised. I suppose my assumption was correct; you have been good for Mr. Min.”

“Huh?” I said, very eloquently but he was still talking.

“It’s raw, I admit, but the emotion and meaning of the song is so…unadulterated, it really moved me. Your and his voice match well for it, I might just pair you with him but I wouldn’t do that to Taehyung or Yoongi. Changing assignments, maybe but now completely, don’t worry,” he chuckled at the look on my face, probably thinking I was horrified of losing Tae. He was wrong; of course, I was horrified at what Min Yoongi had done.

I bowed to the teacher before rushing out.

“Whoa, where’s the fire?” Taehyung asked as I grabbed the keys from his hands. “Just get in, we need to get somewhere with internet and a computer fast.” I huffed, getting into the driver’s side myself.

“You want to tell me now, what’s wrong?” Taehyung asked, cautiously as if I was going to bite his head off any second.

“Just hang on,” I mumbled.

Taehyung and I had arrived at his apartment at break neck speed, him clutching his dashboard and trying to get me to slow down but I never did, almost dislocating his arm in my haste to get to his laptop. I switched to the website and opened the studio listings, finding Yoongi’s name immediately, listed next to mine.

I plugged in Tae’s headphones and put them over my head, turning up the volume as Taehyung folded his legs under him, watching me.

The opening rifts began and to my surprise and growing trepidation it was that piano tune, the one I’d walked in on him playing. Dark and resonating, it ended in him humming, something I had never heard him do as the song began.

I empty my drink, filling it with loneliness,

Should’ve just given in, why did I argue all the time?

Yoongi’s voice, rough and bleak spoke the words quietly, almost rhetorically, making me press the headphone in closer, not wanting to miss out anything.

All I did was color you in my blank white paper,

But I realized, it had already became a full picture,

Like cell phones, we know we’ll be broken when we’re apart,

Your scent is the only thing that completes me, hug me, now

His voice changed, becoming faster, if possible rougher as he spat out the words. I closed my eyes as the background music stopped, leaving his voice to drop back to the original bass, becoming as gentle as a caress.

I can only see you; I can only see you alone.

I shivered at his voice, the timbre reminding me of the way he had said my name, that night. Unexpectedly, my voice sung out, weaving in between his as the words I’d written and recorded merged with the deep rap.

I’m fair with everyone else but you,

Now I can’t live a single day without you, please…

Hold me Tight…hug me now, please…

My hand shook as I skipped my voice, eager to listen to his.

I listened to the entire song for what felt like hours, not believing even for a second that it existed. But no, on the desktop there was still, in small letterings his and my name next to the title: Hold Me Tight, a song with both our words.

I shut the laptop at long last, pulling off the headphones to look at Taehyung curled up on the sofa, fast asleep.

Just as well, I thought, throwing the throw cover on top of him as I sat down on the floor again, my head in my hands.

What did it mean? Did Yoongi actually mean the words he’d said so unabashedly, sewing them around mine seamlessly, making them one? Or had he just heard what I’d made and thought he didn’t have to go to a lot of trouble? One thing was true, it was raw. He hadn’t added any effect to his or my voices save for making it seem like we’d both done the recording at the same time.

Did…he feel the way he’d said in the song?

I shook my head, clearing it or trying to. Min Yoongi needed to get out of my head. It was over, we were over. I never was going to see him again. There was no point in digging into it.

I looked at the sleeping boy next to me and smiled, pulling out my phone and sending out a text in our group:


I shut the phone off, staring into nothingness in front of me. It was time I went back to normal, no Yoongi, no Sehun drama normal.

Taehyung twirled me, me holding onto his pinky finger as he giggled like a little boy, before throwing out his long arms and waving them to catch Ara and Doona’s attention. We had finally made it to Dark Wild, me, the girls, Taehyung and Jungkook as I was ready to let loose and forget my life for at least three to four hours.

Ara and Doona dragged Yerin and Jungkook too and we made a circle, screaming as a deep bass filled the club, the EDM making my pulse throb in my veins.

“Is this taking your mind off of it?” Yerin asked in my ear and I smiled widely at her, trying not to slip back into the thoughts of a few days ago.

I just didn’t want to think at all.

“I am thirsty! And drunk!” Taehyung yelled in his deep voice, slumping to the side into Doona and she rolled her eyes, grinning at our light weight friend as Jungkook went to lend a shoulder.

“Alright, I’ll get him some water.” I said, laughing as I went to the bar, asking for a tall glass of water.

The barman cast one look at Taehyung’s figure in our corner and grinned, sliding a glass of ice water to me and I turned, starting towards the group when a tall figure blocked my way.

I frowned immediately.

“Excuse me,” I said, looking up and immediately freezing, my hands matching the cold water’s temperature.

Sehun stared down at me with an unreadable expression on his face. I gaped at his appearance. He was dressed in his usual ‘I own the world’ style but his eyes were reddish as were his cheeks. He was obviously drunk. He looked so different from how put together he looked at school.

“Sehun,” I breathed, worriedly, glancing at my friends but they were too far away and wouldn’t hear anything over the music.

“You look so scared.” He said.

My eyes went back to him. He looked drunk but his words weren’t slurred. He probably was still mostly sober.

“I am not.” I said, trying to walk past him but he moved to the side, countering me.

“Sehun, I don’t want to talk to you.” I said.

“I could tell. I sent you texts, called you, emailed you, but you didn’t reply once. What, am I not good enough for you anymore?” he asked.

“I would say you thought I wouldn’t be good for you.” I hissed.

“That’s where you’re wrong, baby. I never said that. You were amazing. You were perfect before you changed.” He hissed.

“You changed too.” I retorted, watching his eyes flicker.

“I was dealing with things! I need you on my side, on my team! You left me.”

I scoffed, again trying to get away but his hand shot out, latching on my arm so tightly, I winced.

“You’re not going anywhere. You’re going to stay here and talk to me. You’re going to start by telling me who the other guy is. Is he here with you now?” he hissed.

I tried to shake his hand off. “Sehun, get off,” I said.

He sneered, tightening his grip instead. I nearly dropped the glass before placing it on a chair and gripping his hand, “Sehun, please,” I whispered.

“What is it? You don’t like me touching you anymore, baby?” he scoffed.

He was going to bruise me, I thought desperately, still trying to get his hand off. “You’re hurting me, Sehun.” I plead. His eyes didn’t soften. “You hurt me too, babe.” He said.

Get your hand off her.”

For the second time in the night, I froze but this time Sehun did too, his eyes lifting from my almost crying ones to see who had spoken.

I closed my eyes. Just one night, I just wanted one night free from all this.

Yoongi walked, smoothly and confidently towards us, his eyes steely. I was surprised at his appearance again. His hair was dyed back to its natural black, deep and inky. He was in a full-fledged suit, black and form fitting. He looked as if he could stop the world with a snap of his fingers. This was the real Min Yoongi. He came to stand next to, his own hand closing around Sehun’s and yanking it off me. 

I pulled my arm away, rubbing at it furiously as Yoongi slipped in front of me, barring Sehun from me.

“Min, stay out of this. I’m having a conversation with my girlfriend.” He said.

Ex-girlfriend and it doesn’t seem that she wants to have a conversation with you. I suggest you back off and not lay your hands on her.” Yoongi replied easily.

“Look, you don’t know anything, ok? So whatever idea of misplaced loyalty you have to her, take it and leave.” He Sehun snarled. “You don’t know what she has been doing.” He said, his eyes finding me behind Yoongi.

“I honestly don’t care, Sehun, but if you think I am going to stand by and watch you manhandle her, you’ve got me all wrong.” He snapped.

“I wasn’t manhandling her. She was running off to some other guy!” he roared.

I flinched, looking around to see people were beginning to stare, even the barman but he wasn’t interfering. Naturally, he must know Yoongi was the son of the owners, he wouldn’t say anything.

This could turn bad. Sehun was drunk. What if he hit Yoongi?

“That’s her business.” Yoongi shrugged. His voice was tightening, I realized, catching on to the signs that even Yoongi, cool and calm Yoongi was beginning to lose his cool. I reached out, placing a hand on his arm, feeling the muscles tense and flex through the material of his suit jacket. He paused for a minute before relaxing under my touch.

“Yeah well, it’s mine too because the bitch was cheating on me. She fucked some slimy bastard behind my back. I can talk to her if I want because I didn’t do anything wrong and you can’t stop me, you don’t own this place.” he spat out running a hand through his hair.

Yoongi’s fist bunched and I tightened my hold on his arm. He had officially gotten mad. If he punched Sehun it would ruin his image. What if someone found out who he was?

Instead, Yoongi surprised me by chuckling, low and dark. “Actually, I can stop you, Sehun.” The way he said his name was a direct threat.

“You want to know why? Because I am the slimy bastard she slept with,” Yoongi’s voice had dropped several octaves, his tone so dangerous it made the hair on the back of my neck stand.

Sehun’s eyes widened, his jaw dropping, his body slumping as he stared at Yoongi. “Y-You?” he asked.

“Yes, Oh, me, as far as I am concerned, she left you the night of your birthday when you were a dick to her so she didn’t exactly cheat. Now, I would suggest you watch your language about her and keep your distance from us.” He said, backing slightly into me, his back pressing into my side.

“Y-you can’t possibly…you hate each other!” Sehun grunted.

“Maybe we do, but that is not your concern anymore. Just stay away from her.” Yoongi said and triumphantly turned, grabbing my hand as he led me off. I numbly followed, as people kept throwing us glances.

Yoongi led me to a back hallway, opening a utility door and letting us out into an alley.

He shut the door with a loud clang as I wrapped my arms around myself, rubbing off any residual wetness around my eyes. I jumped when I felt his fingers gently wrap around the stinging spot on my arm where Sehun had gripped me.

I whirled out of his hold, backing up as he followed slowly, eyes, dark and intense on me. “Are you hurt?” he asked his voice still low and urgent.

“I am fine.” My voice came out squeaky and I cleared my throat quickly.

“Y/N,” he began but I shook my head. “I should head inside. The others would be waiting for me.” I said.

“You can’t go inside. He’s still inside. Just text them,” he waved a hand dismissively.

I frowned. Did he think he could boss me around after everything he said? I wanted to ask but I had more pressing questions.

“Why?” I asked.

“Why what?” he asked.

“Why would you stand up for me? You didn’t have to do that.” I said, folding my arms.

His face fell before contorting. “I didn’t have to do that? You’re joking, right? I am part of the reason why he was thrashing you about and he hurt you!” he said.

“Still,” I said.

He stopped, watching me carefully.

“You know why I did it, Y/N. You don’t have to ask.” He said.

“No, I don’t.” I shook my head.

He ignored that. “Did you hear the song?” he asked.

“What does it matter? I want to know why you did it!”

“I already told you!”

“No, you’re lying because you made it quite clear what you felt that morning!” I gritted. “You can’t take it back, not like that. You can’t just say something like that to Sehun and sing some songs and think everything is ok!” I said.

“So you did hear the song?”

I growled, wanting to smack the stupid smirk off his face and my fist closed but he caught it.

“Are you going to hit me again?” he tilted his head curiously.

I laughed bitterly. “Hit you? No, Yoongi, that would require me touch you and I don’t even want to look at you.” He said.

Yoongi looked pissed as he glared at me.

“You know, I didn’t write that entire song. I was filling in for you. You made the song. So, tell me, Y/N, how long have you had feelings for me?” he asked.

He smirked again, arms crossing as mine dropped as I gawked at him.

“It could’ve been for Sehun too.” I fought.

He snorted. “Doubtful, Y/N, I’m not an idiot. Tell me how long.”

“I don’t –,”

“How long?” he yelled, his loud voice echoing around the empty alley.

“Since I met you!” I shouted back, watching his jaw drop. “What?” he asked weakly.

“Ever since I saw you, you’ve been eating away at my mind. I thought I hated you but you fucking fascinated me. I thought it would be easy to hate you because you were an ass but then you turned out to be nice. You were being sweet and kind and funny and I just…let myself fall…but then I turned out to be right. You were an egocentric ass. I thought you felt the same. I thought you cared too but I guess not.” I said.

Yoongi was moving even before I was finished. Both hands came up to grab the sides of my face and he pulled me to him roughly, his lips closing on mine as he pushed me back against the wall, trapping me between the cold bricks and his warmth. He kissed me harshly and I kissed back with equal fervor, releasing pent up frustration and heart ache against his mouth.

I shoved him away finally, both of us gasping for breath as he tried to move in again but I held up my hands.

“You’re as bad as Sehun.” I panted.

“What the hell do you mean? I didn’t manhandle you!” he said.

“You broke my heart too.” I said softly and his eyes dropped.

“And I am sorry for it, but if would just listen to me,” he began.

“You don’t get it, Yoongi. You can’t make this up. There is nothing at all that you can say that would make it up.” I said.

“Let me finish. I just need you to listen to what happened. It was a misunderstanding.” He said.

His voice was edging towards desperation but I wasn’t going to let him do this to me.

“I can’t, Yoongi.” I moved to the side, towards the opening of the alley.

He moved with me. “Please, give me one chance to explain, Y/N. I’m not trying to make it up to you. I want us to start over completely.”

I looked down, trying to walk off again but his hand shot out, blocking my way as he pressed his palm to the wall. “I am not going to let you walk away again, Y/N.” he said, his voice stoic again.

I sighed. I just wanted this to be over. “Okay,” I said softly. 


Cheater Cheater Part 3

gifs are not mine

Pairing: Dean x Reader (featuring Sam)

Word Count: 1,056

Warnings: angst

A/N: Part 1 /// Part 2 //// This was requested by a lot of you, so I wrote it! I hope you guys enjoy this! Feedback is welcomed and appreciated! :)

You were walking through the parking lot, lugging your bag over your shoulder.  The job was done and you were almost sad that you had to leave Wisconsin.  Unfortunately, there was always another job in a different state.  A hunter’s job was never done.

As you were putting things back in your trunk, the familiar rumble of an engine made you pause.  You shut your trunk, taking a deep breath as the Impala pulled into the spot next to yours.  You thought about getting into your car and leaving, but your feet wouldn’t move.  It was as if they had turned into cinder blocks.

Sam climbed out of the car, shutting the door behind him.  He flashed you a smile as he came up to you, bringing you into his arms for a tight embrace.  You could smell the faint scent of Dean’s cologne on Sam’s jacket.  It was something you didn’t think you would miss, but you did.

“I was just about to leave Wisconsin,” you said as Sam pulled away.  “How did you guys know where to find me.”

“We thought you might go to the first motel in the phone book,” Sam noted with a breathy laugh.  “Some habits are hard to kick, huh?”

You let out a nervous laugh, rubbing the back of your neck.  “I guess so,” you mumbled.  “I never thought about it, I guess it’s something I’ll always do.”  You stuck your hands into your pockets.  “Where are you guys headed next?”

Keep reading


Rick pulled the covers over his head to block out the blinding light. “Could you please turn that light off? It’s too bright. And who is playing Garth Brooks so loud this early in the morning?”

“Let me take that one issue at a time. First, that ‘light’ is the sun’s rays streaming through the window. There is no way to really cut it off. Two, there is no music currently playing in the house. I suspect that you are having some moonshine induced flashbacks to Shane’s singing from last night. And three, it’s almost 12:30 in the afternoon.”

“What? Why didn’t you wake me?” Rick mumbled from under the covers.

Michonne sighed. She walked over and shut the curtains and then moved back to the bed where she gently eased the covers away from Rick’s face before sitting down. He squinted back at her. His curls were in wild disarray all over his head.

“You looked miserable even in your sleep this morning. Your face was all scrunched up. I decided to just let you sleep it off. But I did come in here to wake you up so you could take these.” Michonne held out aspirin and a bottle of water to Rick.

“Thank you.” Rick sat up and took the aspirin and drank most of the bottle of water in one draw.

“Slow down, Rick. Those long nips are what got you here in the first place.”

Rick set the bottle on the nightstand and looked at Michonne. “I’m never drinking anything Shane offers me again.”

Michonne smoothed Rick’s curls out of his face. “Why did you drink in the first place?”

Rick closed his eyes briefly at Michonne’s actions. He remembered exactly why he drank last night, but he couldn’t share it with his friend. “Who knows? I got caught up in the moment I guess.”

There was something Michonne had to know. “Exactly how much of last night do you remember.”

This question Rick could answer honestly. “Everything after my first drink is a blur.”

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Cars 3 Commentary fun facts:

-The majority of the film takes place in the last two weeks of February.

-Bonnie Hunt improvised “Stinky” 

-Lightning IGNORES what the arrival of next gens imply until Cal retires

-When Chick’s trophy rises from the floor in his show, the mechanism operates incorrectly to show how “nothing ever goes right near Chick”

-Mater’s sneeze gag was improvised by an animator

-In LA when Lightning is the last analog racer left, none of the next-gens pay him any physical mind and almost run into him as they go about their business in the paddock. He has to wait to them to pass.

-The character designers really wanted Jackson Storm to be so low to the ground you could only “slip a credit card beneath him” but animating car characters does not allow this.

-EACH shot of the Los Angeles race is progressively darker to represent the shroud of doom that has fallen over Lighting’s racing career. The sun has set on his days.

-The sound design for Lightning’s wreck was purposely designed to send an eerie shock through your spine.

-The story picks up 4 months later because McQueen was in recovery for that whole time.

-McQueen’s coat of primer can be viewed as two things: “pajamas”, or a cast

-Tire track clouds appear in the sky during “King’s Highway”

-The Rusteze Racing Center is in North Carolina (near Charlotte), Thunder Hollow is in Georgia, and the town of Thomasville is also in North Carolina.

-McQueen’s remark of how he “never thought he couldn’t” race is based exactly off of what John Lasseter replied when asked “how did you know you could make Toy Story?”

-Cristela Alonzo’s mother did actually tell her “dream small or not at all.”

-Owen Wilson DID NOT want to sing. But when he did, he wound up dancing a little (much like McQueen) as he recorded the lines. (apparently it was an “air-lasso” type thing)

-Lightning DOES get faster from Smokey’s training! But… Cruz gets faster too.

-Lightning knows his career is over when Cruz beats him the final time at Thomasville

-At the start of the Florida 500, Lightning has no choice to race, but according to the director, “he would probably rather go home and throw up.”

-Lightning doesn’t want “what happened to Doc to happen to him”, but that is exactly what happens to him, and it’s the best thing for him.

-Lightning is described as “stunning” at least once in the commentary, and is complimented many other times. Thankfully, the word “curvaceous” was not used this time! (It is used in the Cars 3 artbook though. Multiple times.)

-The filmmakers have no concrete explanation for how anyone was able to call Cruz’s Hamilton assistant at the end of the film ://

-They also have no explanation for why the 80′s payphone near Flo’s has a video screen

-Lightning is so focused on helping Cruz in the race that he literally does not notice how he must look on the crew chief stand, wearing a headset.

-Lightning has supposedly only paused his racing career to train Cruz

-There was supposedly more graphic design work in Cars 3 than Cars 1

-Jackson Storm’s engine sound was designed from scratch (like the rest of him) by Skywalker Sound

-The demolition derby racers were based partially off of hockey players

-Miss Fritter’s old school district is where her voice actor (Lea Delaria) went to school as a child.

-There are TWO Coco easter eggs in the film: the first on Gabirel’s treadmill screen, and the second is in the FIRST shot of miss Fritter’s bar, NOT the second shot. So look carefully!

-Randy Newman repeated sections of the Cars 1 score on purpose 

-Ray Magliozzi did NOT do his late brother Tom’s lines (as rumored earlier this year), Pixar instead used audio of Tom from their radio show “Car Talk”

-Humpy Wheeler (voice of Tex Dinoco) insisted so much to Pixar that there must be a water truck in the derby scene that he actually drew them a picture of a water truck.

-Retired NASCAR superstar Jeff Gordon (much like McQueen) cannot race on a simulator.

-The Mud in the derby scene took the effects department the entire length of film production time to complete.

-The sky scenes outside Sterling’s office are a couple different matte paintings.

-Lightning was more happy watching Cruz win than he would have been if he had won himself. (And this is the same way Doc felt about Lightning back in the day.)

-Lightning’s relationship with Doc is described by the director as “mentor & mentee” but also as “father and son.” Later, Lighting’s relationship with Cruz is described the same way (but with diff. words lol).

-As Cruz flips though the air, sparks can still be seen raining off her damaged flank, and the producers named it the most beautiful shot in the entire film.

-Jackson Storm is indeed terrified of Cruz Ramirez. He keeps track of her field position the entire race regardless of his crew chief’s warnings.

(There’s not much else in the commentary that we don’t know from earlier articles and interviews tbh but there were some new things.)

Tom and Lin-Manuel: An Appreciation/Jealous Rant

Every writer has a golden period – a chunk of time when her brain is ripest, when the veins he is tapping are the richest, when the ideas, big and small, spill out over the sides of the bucket instead of having to be patiently collected like drops of rain off a leaf. This is true for songwriters, playwrights, novelists, screenwriters, anyone who writes anything in any genre. Go look at John Hughes’s IMDb page and marvel at his golden period, which I would bookend as 1983-1990. It’s outrageous. He wrote Vacation, Mr. Mom, Sixteen Candles, The Breakfast Club, Weird Science, Pretty in Pink, Ferris Bueller’s Day Off, Some Kind of Wonderful, Planes, Trains, and Automobiles, Uncle Buck, and Home Alone in eight years. Eight years?! That’s absurd.

But then look at his next 20 years. You won’t find one movie that is better than the worst one he wrote in those seven years. The vein ran dry. It always does. That’s just the deal.

Tom Petty’s golden period never ended. Or, at least, the silver periods on either side of his golden period were seemingly infinite. No matter where you think he peaked – Full Moon Fever, or Wildflowers, or Damn the Torpedoes – the decades on either side were wonderful. He was great from the moment he released his first album in 1977 to the day he died last month. For forty years he wrote, and wrote, and wrote, and the songs he wrote were good or great or amazing.

Tom Petty wrote “Breakdown” and “American Girl” in 1977. He wrote “You Don’t Know How it Feels” seventeen years later, in 1994. He wrote “You Got Lucky” in 1982, “King’s Highway” in 1992, “The Last DJ” in 2002. He wrote “I Won’t Back Down,” “Runnin’ Down a Dream,” Free Fallin’,” “Love is a Long Road,” “A Face in the Crowd,” Yer So Bad,” and “The Apartment Song,” and “Depending on You,” all in 1989, and they were all on the same album, and that’s absurd.

He wrote “Stop Draggin’ My Heart Around” in 1981 and “Big Weekend” in 2006. He wrote every song on Wildflowers – and they are all great – in or around 1994. He wrote fifty other great songs I haven’t named yet, like “Don’t Come Around Here No More” and “Jammin Me.” He wrote great songs you’ve heard a million times, and great songs you’ve maybe never heard, like “Billy the Kid” (1999) and “Walls” (1996) which was buried on the soundtrack to She’s the One.  He took a break from the Heartbreakers and casually released “End of the Line” and “Handle With Care” and “She’s My Baby” with the Traveling Wilburys in 1989-90. He wrote “Refugee” in 1980 and “I Should Have Known It” in 2010. Is there any rock and roll songwriter alive who wrote two songs that good, 30 years apart? (Paul McCartney wrote “Hey Jude” in 1968, and only 12 years later he wrote “Wonderful Christmas Time,” which is so bad it nearly retroactively undid “Hey Jude.”)

He wrote about rock and roll things, like ’62 Cadillacs, getting out of this town, and dancing with Mary Jane. He wrote about love and loss and heartbreak. He wrote legitimately funny jokes, and moribund memories, and personal narratives, and imaginative flights of fancy. One of his characters calls his father his “old man” and it somehow isn’t cheesy. He was from Florida and California and wrote about both of them, and every time I’m on Ventura Boulevard I think of vampires, because the images he wrote are indelible. 

Petty didn’t just write songs directed at women, like most rock stars. He wrote about women, and he wrote for women, and he wrote with women. He treated the women in his songs as lovingly and respectfully as he treated the men. He cared about them as much, he spent as much time thinking about them, and he liked them as much, and all of that is rare.

He wrote simply, but not boringly. He made his characters three-dimensional, somehow, in a matter of seconds. There’s a famous (probably apocryphal) story about Hemingway bragging he could write an entire novel in six words, then writing: “For sale: baby shoes, never worn.” I prefer the 18-word novel Petty wrote as the first verse to “Down South” –

Headed back down south
Gonna see my daddy’s mistress
Gonna buy back her forgiveness
Pay off every witness

When I was working on Parks and Recreation, whenever we needed a song to score an important moment in Leslie Knope’s life, we chose a Tom Petty song. It started with “American Girl,” when her biggest career project came to fruition. It was “Wildflowers” when she said goodbye to her best friend. It was “End of the Line” at the moment the show ended. For the seven seasons of our show, Tom Petty was the writer we trusted to explain how our main character was feeling, because he wrote so much, so well, for so long.


It seems like a joke, Hamilton – a joke in a TV show where one of the characters is a struggling New York actor, and is always dragging his friends to his terrible plays. Like Joey in Friends. There’s an episode of Friends where Joey is in a terrible musical called like Freud!, about Sigmund Freud, and you get to see some of it, and it’s predictably terrible. Freud! the musical is arguably a better idea than Hamilton the musical.

I’m far from the first person to say this – I’m probably somewhere around the millionth person to write about Hamilton, and the maybe 500,000th to make this particular point, but it needs to be said – a hip-hop Broadway musical about the founding fathers is an astoundingly terrible idea. Lin-Manuel Miranda should never have written it. As soon as he started to write it, he should’ve said to himself, “What the fuck am I doing?!” and stopped. And after he got halfway through, he should’ve junked it, gotten really drunk, and moved on with his life, and made his wife and friends swear to never mention the weird six months where he was trying to write a hip-hop musical about Alexander Hamilton. I literally guarantee you that when Lin-Manuel Miranda first told his friends what he was writing, every one of them reacted with at best a frozen smile, and at worst a horrified recoiling. Some of them might have been outwardly encouraging – “sounds awesome bud! Go get ‘em!” But then later, alone, they would call each other and say What the fuck is he doing?

There is a moment, in Hamilton, when what you are watching overwhelms you. (It’s not the same moment for everyone, but most everyone has one, I suspect.) It’s the moment when the enormity, the complexity, the meaning of it, the entirety of it, overpowers you, and you realize that what you are experiencing is new – new both in your specific life, and new, like, on Earth.  The first time I saw it, that moment was a line in the middle of “Yorktown.” Hamilton sang the line And so the American experiment begins / With my friends all scattered to the winds, and I burst into tears in a way I hadn’t since I was 10 and a baseball went through a guy’s legs in the World Series. Something about how casually he says that – And so the American experiment begins – just settled over me, like a collapsing tent, and this thing I was watching wasn’t in front of me, it was everywhere around me, and it was exhilarating and transformative.

(If I could put this part in a footnote, I would, but I don’t know how to, so: I should mention that I am very far from a musical theater aficionado. I have seen maybe eight musicals in my life. Not only did I not expect to cry, hard, during Hamilton, I did not expect to enjoy it. I saw it like a week after it opened on Broadway, kind of on a whim, knew nothing about it, and the last thing I said to my wife, as the lights went down, was: “We’ll leave at intermission.”)

The second time I saw it, that moment came much earlier (I knew what I was getting into, this time, so I was more ready to be subsumed). It came barely three minutes in, when the entire cast of the show, in a piece of choreography that can best be referred to as “badass,” all walk down to the very front of the stage and stand, shoulder to shoulder, and sing very loudly about how Alexander Hamilton never learned to take his time. The cast has, to this point, trickled on stage, slowly, one by one, telling you Hamilton’s origin story, and then suddenly there they all are, all of them – maybe 20? 50? It seems like 1000? – as close to the audience as they can get, and they are every size and ethnicity and gender, and their voices are loud, and I thought to myself, oh my God, this is a cast of people descended from every nation on Earth, all singing about the foundations of the American experience, and yes I “knew” that, intellectually, but holy shit, now that I see them all, I know it, like in my stomach, I understand it, and what a thing that is.

The third time I saw Hamilton, that moment was during “It’s Quiet Uptown,” when this enormous, sprawling, improbable, otherworldly, multi-ethnic, historical, art tornado presses pause on all of its historical-cultural-ethno-sociological-artistic investigations, and spends four and a half spare minutes with a couple who are grieving an unimaginable tragedy.  Specifically, it was the lines

Can you imagine?
Can you imagine?

What a thing to do, for your characters – to give them four and a half minutes in the middle of an enormous, sprawling, historical swirl, to just be sad. What a piece of writing that is.

(Again, should be a footnote, but: as long as I’m talking about writers here, I should point out that if the late Harris Wittels were alive, he would, at this moment, text me and hit me with a “humblebrag” for writing about how I have seen Hamilton three times, and he would be right. Miss you Harris!)

In the hundreds of hours of my life I have spent thinking about Hamilton since I first saw it – far more hours than any other single piece of art I have ever experienced – I have revisited that same thought over and over: he never should’ve written it. It was an absurd thing to do. It took him a year to write the title song, then another year to write the second song, and how did he not give up when two years had gone by and he’d written two songs?  He must’ve known in his heart it needed to be a 50-song, 2 ½-hour enterprise, and he had two songs after two years, and he kept going. How did he keep going? I’ve been trying to write this blog post about two writers I admire for different reasons since the week Tom Petty died, and I’ve almost given up five times.

At this point, the entire musical is that “moment” for me. It’s the whole thing, now – the thing that overwhelms me is the whole thing. The conception of it, the writing of it, the rewriting of it. The music and the motifs and the themes and the threads and the dramatic shape and the characters and their inner lives, and the eagle-eye writer’s view it took to keep all of that in his head, all of it, the whole time. The writing of it. The utterly impossible writing of it. 

There’s a Ball?

So, this was a prompt. I have included the ask at the very end this time because I don’t want to give away the spoiler! Another one that was slightly longer than expected. Oh well. 


            “Did you hear?” A boy whispered in delight, voice echoing around the now silent corridor. Draco rolled his eyes heavily. What was with immature people being obsessed with gossip? One would think that there would be better things to talk about than mindless shite.

             “Harry Potter is coming back for the Remembrance Ball next month!”

               Draco froze as he fought the urge to demand the boy to spill his sources. It wouldn’t do well to bring himself attention, especially about Potter.

               Excited whispers broke out as they all waited for Slughorn to open his door for class.

               “Where did you hear that?” Smith asked doubtfully. “Someone else brought up Potter at the beginning of the year but it turned out to be false.”

               For once, Draco was rather grateful for the Hufflepuff’s insight. He just hoped that it wouldn’t be a recurring thing.

               “I overheard McGonagall telling Flitwick about it when I was passing by the staffroom.”

               Draco furrowed his brows. If Potter was stopping by for a visit, Granger or Weasley would have acted like it, wouldn’t they? He shot a look towards Granger, who had a book on Modern Goat Conspiracy Theories compared to Anciently Deceased Theories open in one hand and their Potion’s book in the other. Surely, she couldn’t be reading both, right? Weasley had his head resting on Granger’s shoulder and appeared to be asleep. His mouth was open and Draco was pretty sure he saw drool.

               The clang of the door opening had Draco putting this behind him. It was no doubt just gossip.


               “If Potter is coming back for the ball, who do you think will be his date?” Abbott asked as Draco sighed heavily, a few seats away from her in History of Magic.

               “Who says he has to have a date?” Macmillan asked with a scoff. “I’m going stag and there’s nothing wrong with that.”

               Finch-Fletchley snorted loudly. “You’re going stag because everyone you asked turned you down.”

               Draco was incredibly sick of everyone talking about Potter. This was getting out of hand. What was with everyone being obsessed with the savior? Merlin, there had to be better things to talk about.

               “That’s because he is blind to Abbott’s desperate pining after him.” Draco snarked, not bothering to turn around. He was just fed up with the whole conversation.

               There was a stunned silence that filled the room. Macmillan sounded as if he was choking on his own tongue and that was certainly the highlight to Draco’s day.

               “Is—Is Malfoy telling the truth?” Macmillan whispered, sounding awed. As if he hadn’t noticed that the girl had been in love with him for seven years.


              Draco spared a miniscule moment of guilt as the girl sounded positively miserable. But it was for the best. He knew how this would end. And really, what was a little pain as long as it ended in happiness? Well, if they actually lasted as a couple that is. As a realist, he predicted those two would break up after one or two children.

               “Would you like to go to the ball with me?” Macmillan’s tone was scared, which had Draco rolling his eyes.

               “Yes!” Abbott squeaked out far louder than was necessary, causing Draco to nod approvingly.

               And if a small smile also escaped, well, no one had to know.

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BTS replaced you. - pt.2

[pt.1] [pt.2] [pt.3] [pt.END]

Originally posted by fairybcby

After the conversation we shared I muted the conversation, there was nothing I wanted to hear anymore and nothing I wanted to do but sleep. I was curious of what they had to say, if anything at all but at the same time I didn’t want to know because they probably don’t think it’s a big deal they’ve missed my birthday three years in a row. I sat at my dining room table, staring at the candlelit cake in front of me. It was their favourite, strawberry flavour and just looking at it reminded me of them and how they won’t be here again to share this too large cake for one with me.

For so long I believed that we were best friends, that we were inseparable and nothing or no one could come between the friendship we shared because we had been through so much with one another. But I was wrong. They let her get between us. I don’t want to be a selfish brat that I’m seeming to be, but they just forgot me so easily after spending a week with her, wouldn’t that hurt you? They used to be the first people to say happy birthday to me, even if they were away they’d never forget to FaceTime me at 12am - but this year, even though we were supposed to celebrate, they didn’t call at 12, they didn’t send me a text. Because they forgot, and they left me waiting for them like a fool standing outside the restaurant in the winter cold holding my own birthday cake. They promised. They promised that they were going to celebrate with me this year for sure, they even made sure they had no schedule clashes today so that we could celebrate, but just like that they forgot and I was replaced with someone new, someone better.

People looked at me funny, people who walked into the restaurant, had their meal and came back out to see me still standing there alone - they all looked at me with pity in their eyes. ‘That girl must’ve got stood up’ must be what they were all thinking. Yeah I was stood up by my seven best friends. The entire week they’ve been hanging out, the entire week they’ve dismissed me. ‘If it was important we would have remembered’ ‘Clearly wasn’t all that important’, that hurt to say the least, it only told me how much I didn’t mean to them, making it clear to me that they don’t need me in their lives anymore because they have someone new, someone that let’s them have the personal space that they needed and I understood now. I was only ever thinking of myself and what I wanted. Maybe they didn’t forget, maybe this was their way to tell me that our friendship is over. 

I blew out the candle without making a wish, wishes don’t come true. I’ve wished for the same thing the last two years and each following year I end up getting disappointed. I crawled into bed and went to sleep, eyes slightly wet from crying. But a few hours later, I heard my phone ring; I picked up without even checking the caller ID. 

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