where the air is fresh and clean

How to keep someone safe through drug addiction

Here are a few things I have learned to keep my partner safe while using. This may be controversial to some people or described as ‘enabling’ but I think knowing what to do and what not to do will save lives for sure.
Drug addiction is a crippling, awful thing and I do not advise anyone to take any drug without extensive knowledge and precaution.
However if you want to keep the people you love safe then these things may really help, especially in life saving situations.

1. NEVER LET THEM SLEEP ON THEIR BACK.
This has caused deaths in many cases because when using opiates the body goes into respiratory depression (slowed breathing) and it makes it much harder for them to breathe and much easier for them to choke if they sleep on their backs.
Wake them up if you have to. Turn them into the recovery position (on their left or right side, hands away from the face, legs crossed) and make sure there is no obstructions in their mouth. Keep checking up on them throughout the night, if you can, invest in a blood pressure monitor just for peace of mind to check their pulse isn’t too low. I know the normal range for my boyfriend, and can see on there if it’s anything abnormal.

2.MAKE SURE THEY GET PLENTY OF WATER.
Whilst using, they are not in a normal frame of mind, ie: breakfast lunch or dinner aren’t going to be a priority when they are withdrawing or high / fully sedated. The ideal amount of water to consume in a day is 2.2 litres so try and get them to have a few glasses of water every now and then. Check their temperature and if needed get a cold flannel to cool them down, this can help with withdrawal.

3. BE AS SUPPORTIVE AS YOU CAN.
This may seem obvious, but those trips to the clinic or the hours trying to score can be really draining mentally as well as physically for someone, especially when they are withdrawing. Knowing you are there for them, holding their hand and being there will make a world of difference. Your love and support will encourage the person in recovery because it will give them something to fight for if they know you are there helping them and shining a small light on a really dark situation.


4. KNOW THE WITHDRAWAL SIGNS FOR YOUR LOVED ONE.
These are a list of basic symptoms my partner experiences and are common as well.
- irritation/irrational anger
- sweating
- nausea and diarrhoea
-panic attacks
-anxiety
-fidgety
-shakes
-high blood pressure
-severe migraines

5. HELP THEM WITH BASIC NEEDS.
What I mean by this is, most people using drugs have pretty bad mental health and are struggling mentally foremost, but this is a catalyst for poor hygiene, bad physical health and emotional withdrawal.
Try and get them to go for a walk every day, even if it’s just for a few minutes. Fresh air and exercise is the best medicine next to good nutrition.
Help them tidy up, wash and clean themselves. It’s likely their living space is going to be dirty so where you can, put things in the bin, get rid of any used needles or bloody tissues and make sure they are tied up in a big rubbish bag and disposed of. Get them any deodorant or nice products to help them with good self care as this can be a real help in recovery as well. When I’m not feeling good a shower and a shave always makes me feel better.
Try and get them to talk about how their feeling, if it’s good or if it’s bad, and just listen. I’m not asking you to be a therapist, just be there when they need someone to share their pain and to emotionally support them. It will do wonders for their self esteem and also recovery.

6. UNDERSTAND YOU MAY HAVE TO PUT THINGS ON HOLD.
Drug addiction is a life long battle this person is going to have to deal with. Just like any disorder or addiction it is going to take a lot of work and a lot of time and effort and a want to get better. This means their needs will have to come first when they are seeking help, especially in the beginning. If you want your loved one to get better you are going to have to accept your me time will be put on hold for a little while and things you have to do will have to be moved around in order to help the person suffering. Remember it is them going through this, but also you, so when you get a chance do take some time for yourself and remind yourself what a great job you are doing by taking care of them in this time if need. You are literally saving a human beings’ life, I don’t know anything more rewarding than that.

7. RESPECT YOUR LOVED ONE.
What I mean by this is, don’t shout about it to everyone you know that this person is going through drug addiction. It’s terrible enough as it is, without people talking about it and making them feel even worse about themselves. They will be much more likely to use / hurt themselves if they are made to feel ashamed or guilty about their problems. That’s not a place I would wish anyone to be. The people they care most about will be informed, and if that’s you then consider it a privilege that they have chosen you to be someone they can confide in.

8. DO NOT BE AFRAID TO CALL AN AMBULANCE.
If you see any signs in your loved one which worry you or make you feel concerned, do not hesitate to call the emergency services. That is what they are there for.
If someone is nodding out on opiates (heroin, morphine, codeine,
oxies etc) check their breathing and shake them a little just to make sure they are okay. If they go anywhere by themselves whilst high be sure to check on them for example in the bath they could nod out and drown if left alone for too long.
If you know they are on drugs and have passed out on the floor and aren’t responding, check their pulse and immediately call an ambulance. This is when it is essential to get help. Do not hit or try and shake them vigorously as this can cause brain damage. Wait for the emergency services to arrive.

If your loved one is an opiate user, CARRY NALOXONE! And learn how to administer it. Naloxone will completely reverse all side effects so if they are not responding this will bring them back to a sober state but they will be fully withdrawing. Call emergency services straight after administering the naloxone.

I can’t think of anything much more to add other than just to love these people and to treat them as you would anybody else who is suffering and in pain. Your love will help them, no matter how tough it seems, no matter how many sleepless nights and no matter how drained you may feel, I promise you it is worth it when you keep these people safe and alive.

From A, with love x
P.s my ask box is open for any questions or help with keeping your loved one safe through drug addiction.

the mercury signs

 Aries mercury: subjective, hypothetical, intuitive, creative, rapid, motivating, obstinate, direct, impulsive, honest // impatient, not detail oriented enough, too impulsive, too honest, opinionated

‘The burning flames of their thoughts heated up the air surrounding them. It had to happen. Now. These words had power in the way they put them, in the way they spoke them with this strong certainty, even though you knew their decision was paired with a hint of light shallowness. Still, the flames grew with every piece of their mind that came to life.’ 

Taurus mercury: realistic, practical, consequent, slow and steady, deliberate, experience through senses // not adaptive, stubborn, not taking opportunities/ not risking to think about other possibilities 

‘The most soothing voice is comforting you, a voice like the humming of Lorelei, the highest and purest form of sensation at the tip of her tounge and you listen to her for hours. She is true and real, she is slow but thinking through, you can see the glistening in her eyes as she laughs - remarking your great taste in music again.’

Gemini mercury: curious, flexible, unbiased, analytical, systematic, versaitile, quick witted, rather logical, impressionable // easily bored, playing mind games at times, really gossipy

‘Is this mind a blessing or a curse? All these worlds that are kept in their heads, all this information and lightning strikes connect them, sometimes shining bright when one thought travels to another country to visit the other side of the universe. They look up in the air and start brooding but laugh sooner or later afterwards - in the huge repertoir they found the clearest answer to the solution. Really, this mind is fascinating.’

Cancer mercury: nostalgic, subjective, emotional and empathetic, imaginative, intuitive, listeners, easily reads between the lines, helping/caring // too subjective, moody, avoid arguments to the point where it’s unhealthy

‘Hearing her speak is like reading an old novel, an old novel in an open bookshelf that you found near the street. You find old post carts and photos inside of it, people with painfully content faces, now vanished in the worn out process of floating time. Dreams that never got true, the laughing of a family sitting at the dining table, screaming at the moon and every other tear that was drowned in silence.

Leo mercury: loud, dramatic, positiv, intuitive, clever, creativ, prideful, warm //stubborn, too prideful, intolerant to other ideas/believes, exaggerating

‘He does not plainly speak, he announces, every word is saturated with gold and preach his wisdom, for that he is sharing it with you out of a greater purpose. You will hear him sing and scream and they will laugh and eagerly listen to his stories, for he is known that he has the most exciting stories to tell. If he always sticks to the truth while telling you his glorious tales? Well, he has an creative mind, for sure.’

Virgo mercury: analytical, methodical, realistic and critical, objective, logical, detail oriented, foresighted, organizing/systematical, picky, adaptable // intolerant, to detail oriented, too critical and/or whiny/pessimistic

‘There was a hint of amusement in the eyes of the leutnant. He thought about all the ways he and his soldiers could go, all the failures that lay ahead and all the victories that were made for them. Nobody doubted his cool and clear way of thinking, everybody knew that deep inside of him, there was a complexity of thoughts, like a spider web made out of ice - careful, do not touch it, it’ll easily break if shaken too much, when the wind is blowing at night. But of course, the spider is clever enough to build a better, much stronger web each day.’

Libra: objective, fair, diplomatic,imaginative, indecisive, pleasing, easy going/charming, connective, creative/deep interest in culture // do not adapt very fast, too pleasing/ indecisive, lazy, need to learn how to disagree

‘People want to call them rather superficial, but I laugh at the thought, that people think badly about such a talent. The smoothest, finest words come out of their mouths, answers that combine the most complex and different opinions from both sides of the crowd. Their mind is a bridge, a gateway to another room, where mentally your senses are touched gently and comforting.’

Scorpio: secretive, sharp minded, investigative, deep, nag for superiority, analytical, instinctive, uncompromising and enigmatic, say what they think // the need to be always better, too secretive, interpreting wrong theories, skeptive and negative/pessimistic, say what they think

‘When he speaks it is like the venom of the snake, every little word he shares and scatters makes you eager for more, but still left with nothing relevant as he knows how to play with words. Strong words, the words of a wounded man who knows that there is more to the world as the facade it puts on every day. He knows where your dead bodies are burried.’

Sagittarius: humorous, subjective, open minded, far-sighted, considerate, positiv, honest, look at the bigger picture, philosphical // brutally honest/ rudeness, not detail oriented enough, judgemental, taking things not seriously, impatient 

‘She is laying on an evergreen field in the prairie, with waterfalls that can be heard in the distance. A buzzard draws his circles up there in the sky and not a single cloud can be seen. She inhales and exhales the fresh, clean air. Thinking is freedom. And freedom is to think without limitations, in the most beautiful places that you can imagine.’

Capricorn: clever, clear, realistic, crytical/skeptical, practical, foresighted, sharp, concentrated, reasonable, methodical, cautious and carefully choosing words // pessimistic, too considerate about how they appear to others, moody, judgemental, at times impatient when people do not get their way of thinking

‘Sitting at the desk he releases his last words and formes them to letters that were written on the paper in front of him. Overthinking he scratches his head and bites his nails nervously. Usually his mind flows like a river but now a rainy day surprised him and he can’t see straight. As the clock strikes twelve, he stands up and opens the door behind him. A thousand eyes look up to him, eager to listen. He swallows and crumples the piece of paper into a ball. Now it’s his time to speak.’

Aquarius: analytical, impersonal, rapid, clear, objective, imaginative/visionary, open minded, quirky,  far-sighted and observant //thinks they are superior to others/intimidating, stubborn, love stirring up a conversation to make it more interesting

‘At the highest form it is like a god-like creature speaks to you through his body. His ideas so revolutional, so dynamic, so clear, how couldn’t you see the solution before? It was right in front of your eyes. People will call him crazy, or they will call him a genius. Sadly, it’s not for him to decide.’

Pisces: poetic, empathetic, creative, romantic, sensitive, utopic, trusting, indirect and soft // too indirect, naive, moody, impractical/disorganized, lazy

‘The eyes mirror the words she says, like an elfen creature, she imagines her dreams of a rosy colored glass house, with the finest art in it: her ideal kind of living. Like a sponge she soakes up the vibes in the room, suddenly feeling so highly saddened as she realizes that he thinks, he will never reach his dreams. “But he is a work of the highest form of art himself, how can he not see the beauty I am allowed to see every day in front of my eyes?” - Oh, she will probably keep these words to herself. 

A Review of the Appreciated - Fic Rec from The Foxhole Court

 I decided to start keeping track of the fics I read and enjoyed, along with some comments of my own. This is only my own personal opinion, but overall I do recommend all those fics. All of them will be Complete, unless I mention otherwise.

Here I start with The Foxhole Court ✧٩(•́⌄•́๑)


An AU where Death, aka Neil, is convinced to spend some time playing at being human. Working at the Laughing Fox coffee shop has him meeting ordinary people, as well as less ordinary people.

I really loved this fic so much. Neil failing at being human was hilarious, his friendship with Matt was precious, and the Coffee Thief Andrew was great! Easily one of my favorite. It’s apparently based on the Sandman by Neil Gaiman, but no knowledge of that story is required. I never read it and the fic made perfect sense to me. Not all of the characters are gods, magic or such, but imo they still all have Something Special about them.

Read it for: an endearing Neil trying to understand the appeal of human things such as drinking, eating, watching movies or shopping; an oblivious Neil; Andrew’s intense attraction to Death; express traveling to another country just to have dinner.


The pirate crew of The Fox find an unexpected treasure in the form of a captured merman named Neil. It might bring them more troubles than riches.

Set as my go-to feelgood read, I’ve read it multiple times and it never disappoints. The universe is rich and well detailed, especially under the sea. The parts in Neil’s pov are entertaining and transcribe the feeling of being from another species pretty well. A good point of this story is that there is absolutely no likeness to The Little Mermaid, which would have been ooc. Instead, it suits the rebel side of the characters.

Read it for: an etherealy beautiful mermaid, a bunch of kids adopt a pet but they have no idea how to care for it, Neil talking to whales and cleaning barnacles-ridden boats, an entertaining travel throuhg the seas.


The Urban Fantasy AU where Kevin is finally #1, they still fight Riko, Neil rents flat but doesn’t read the line where it specifies a Hellhound comes with it. The dog is Andrew.

Hard to define without spoiling the entire story, this is a fresh breath of air in the world of AU. An overall original setting that gives us fae and magic. I takes some time to really start, so the beginning might be confusing, but I strongly encourage giving it a try, if only for snarky Hellhound Andrew.

Read it for: a new approach of the Urban Fantasy theme, Kevin is still a Drama Queen, a reassuring lack of zoophilia, Neil cooking pasta.


“hi sorry I live below you and I hear your dog running around and barking all the time and– no no it’s fine I was just wondering if I could pet it?” Jeremy first falls in love with the dog, then with its owner.

An incredibly sweet reading. I don’t know what was cuter: the dog, or the men. Also features a cool appearance from Laila and Alvarez as Jeremy’s not quite helpful friends.

Read it for: a dog with a very cliché french name, drunk texting in broken french, unhelpful dating advice, Jean as a painter.


The recorded number of times someone hit on Neil Josten and got nowhere, and the one time Andrew didn’t even have to try. 

It’s a classic I guess, but it’s well written and hilarious. This oblivious Neil is delightfully funny.

Read it for: a Savage Moment, helpless fools attracted to each other, the team as witnesses.


Three days after he signs his death sentence to Palmetto State, five after Andrew Minyard sends him flying breathless to the ground, Neil’s gaze snaps to the locker room mirror and stares, frozen, at the word threat scrawled along his spinal cord in terrifying, heavy bold.

This is the AU where your soulmate’s opinion of you gets tatooed on your skin. Effective writting coupled with punch-like settings makes this a one of a kind read. So believable you almost forget it’s an AU.

Read it for: soulmates refusing to be soulmates, an very andrew-like andrew, Neil is one the run, the sweet feeling of andreil being soulmates.


Three takes on their daily lives: an evolution of Sleeping together, Fighting each other, and Protecting each other.

I had heartburn reading this, I find this series almost perfect. Some daily-life action in the future, but it’s never boring. It’s both intense and fluffy.

Read it for: sweet everyday things, but also intense in character interaction, boys figuring shit up together, a good Healing of the Soul.


Normally, Andrew is the one who has bad days. 

The one where Neil has a bad day, and they deal with it. A touching piece, that felt very in character. A believable interpretation of Neil’s feelings, while Andrew is There, ever present as his understanding and supporting self for him. Almost bittersweet but somehow by the end, all that was left was pure, positive feelings.

Read it for: a bag of neatly packed feels, a how-to manual on handling them, quiet time together.


In which the Foxes become parents too young, and Neil is truly just fine. Neil is somehow, suddenly, eight year old.

An interesting take on Neil’s childhood, with the added bonus of the foxes interacting with a child. I think this might be the most civil Aaron has ever been toward Neil in. Some are better at handling a child than others, and it’s surprising.

Read it for: a cute young Neil, an heartbreakingly scarred young Neil, unsurprising temper-tantrums, a lost Wymack, having your heart burned to ashes by how pure a child is.


Five things Neil was surprised to enjoy, and one thing he wasn’t surprised to discover he still didn’t.

Don’t let it fool you, there is only pure sweetness here. Several moments of Neil discovering the wonders of life, it’ll definitely leave you smiling.

Read it for: Neil eats a sweet (almost unbelievable), Nicky’s bad influence on Andrew’s boyfriend, catching up after a life on the run.

Made of skin and bones

Originally posted by anne-the-nerd

(not my gifs!)

Pairing: Alpha!Bucky x Omega!Reader

Warnings: Language, A/B/O dynamics, some nudism?

Summary: Due to the premature death of the King of your clan, his son, the alpha James Barnes, must assume his destiny and lead his people. As the tradition commands, he must choose some worthy omegas to make their his wives and with which he will ensure the subsistence of your clan. All the omega women are obliged to appear before their king, including you. Luckily for you, you would never be chosen… right?

Tags: at the end

A/N: I’m really sorry for the delay but sometimes life happens and I didn’t had so much time thos past days, hoppefully I’ll update sooner the next chapter. Thank you so much everyone! :)


1.Wolves   2.Chess

3. Holy water

Your steps and Steve’s are the only sound breaking the solemn silence of the royal hall. He has tried to stablish a cordial conversation with you but you are just focused on his previous words.

“We have to prepare you for your wedding”

Well, damn, you had totally forgotten about your part of the deal. You are about to get married, and with a stranger. 

- Are you okay? - Steve asks you softly

- Yes… - he doesn’t believe it, you neither

Before he can keep persuading you a tall young woman crosses paths with you and Steve, her eyes blown open when she looks at you

- Sila, what a happy coincidence - Steve greets her

- Sir - with a serene smile she bows at him

- We were searching for you

- Hi - you salute the, now you can sense, omega

- Hello - she then looks at you, and you feel like she knows you from somewhere else, and she doesn’t like you

- Well, Sila, this is Y/N, Y/N, Sila - Steve introduces you - She will be the one who will help you with the wedding arrangemetns and to understand the traditions

- Oh thank you - you breathe relieved knowing that you will be acompanied by a woman in those times of  unrest, and even better if she is an omega

- Sure, Sir - she nods at Steve - Please follow me 

Without even looking at you she starts walking undoing the path she just made, you wave at Steve and follow the graceful woman. The air between you doesn’t incite a conversation so you dedicate the time to observe the majestic rooms by which the woman leads you. When you cross one specially decorated with large windows you can’t help but staring at the sunny day outside and at the beautiful clear lake that peeks among the trees near the palace, you make a mental note to visit that beautiful place sometime.

Keep reading

doodleboots  asked:

You said your house was haunted by "parakeets and Amish Satan" EXPLAIN

…I don’t remember posting about that on here omfg how deep in my personal tag are you? 😂 Those are two different stories so this is probably gonna be long.

Alright, so I was always that freaky little ‘I see dead people’ shithead when I was a kid. You know, that asshole kid that gives detailed descriptions of relatives that died before they were born and says they see them on the ceiling or some shit? That was me. Important to the stories. I’ll start with the parakeets.

Okay, so when I was like…Maybe 5 or 6, I really wanted to get a pet. We had a dog, but I was not the dog’s favorite person, and I was in that whole ‘I wanna prove I’m responsible’ stage of childhood, so I ambushed my parents with the pet question when we were out to dinner. (Which was a strategic move, as I knew all the waiters at the restaurant liked me and would maybe throw in a pity “Aww, get the girl a pet” comment as a guilt trip if they over heard the conversation. It totally worked lmao)

So, after a long debate about animals, my parents decided to get me parakeets. Which, I had not been aiming for (I wanted something cuddly, and I like birds in theory, not in practice) but I was not in a position for arguing when I was about to get a pet, so I agreed and we headed off to PetSmart and got two birds.

Now, over the course of my childhood, I only had three birds- Blueberry, Banana, and Snowcap. You can probably figure out what they looked like, I was not the most creative child. So, in our old house, which was, frankly, a better house, they had a great life! We kept them in the living room, right next to the huge glass doors that lead to the backyard so they got a lot of sunlight and fresh air, we were great about cleaning up their feathers, they didn’t feel attention starved so they weren’t too loud or annoying. It was great.

Then we moved to our current house, and that’s where it starts getting complicated.

See, my mom and I were both on a depression battle, and if you know anything about that, it made it very hard for us to do things. Energy wasn’t there. So while we were obviously still feeding the birds and everything, we definitely let the cage get messy and stopped cleaning up feathers. We had them on the bay window in my living room, so it looked like a mess, which really pissed my Aunt Gail off. Gail was a psycho bitch, for reference, but she had moved in with us to help pay bills and insisted the birds were taken out of the living room, which I wasn’t really down with, but I also wasn’t down with her locking me in a closet, so I listened to her. So Blueberry and Snowcap got banished to the computer room, where there was very little light, always loud music playing, and barely any attention for them. I remember they’d get so loud and we’d just throw a sheet over the cage or turn the lights off or yell for them to shut up. As it stands now, I realize we definitely ended up mistreating the birds, and I feel incredibly guilty about that, but as a little kid with very little patience and a fear of birds, who was mostly following her mother and aunt’s actions, I didn’t understand. I got pretty detached from them because of where I was mentally, and I remember when they both died (separately- Blueberry held on for a while, so she was sadly alone for a while), I like, forced all emotion about it away and just didn’t focus on it. Do you know what I mean? I was pretending like I wasn’t effected, like it was a non-issue, and like tbh I didn’t even let myself focus on how effed up that is until a couple years ago. But that was just the headspace I was in.

Okay, so anyway, birds: I always hear them outside my window during the day, chirping up a storm, but at night? It’s usually dead silent, with the occasional hoot from an owl who’s literally only there to make me think about the movie “The Fourth Kind” in the middle of the night. Fuck that owl, I don’t want to think about that movie.

Sometimes, though, when I’m having an Insomniac Episode ™ , I’ll be in the computer room (there’s no wifi in my house, we’re still in the 90′s) late at night, messing around, and for a short amount of time I’ll hear birds, like, screeching. And I never really thought much about it, because like, nature can do whatever it wants, but it started getting a little odd. Like, I’d leave the computer room to go downstairs for a bit, and I’d hear absolutely nothing. Dead silence, even though the kitchen is directly below it and thus has the same trees, or even if I leave the door open, it’s just quiet. But the second I step off the step and into the room, it starts back up. Weird, right? I started feeling really eerie about it, and started purposefully leaving the computer room whenever it started up.

And then, that lead me to noticing when it started up…It was always at 3:00am to 4:00 am. Which is, you know, The Witching Hour. The Ghost Hour. The Demon Hour. Plenty of names, but all the same concept. Any self-respecting paranormal fucker knows that things get weird at 3:00 am. The veil’s a little thinner then.

And that in itself freaked me out, but I always feel pretty freaked out at that time anyway, because as mentioned, I’m That Asshole Kid who hears disembodied voices and sees things out of the corner of my eye and always feels like something is right behind me. That’s only gotten better and worse with age in different ways- but anyway, while the bird stuff was freaking me out, I had yet to put together what it was, because frankly I’m just a wimp and I thought it was overall anxiety making me hear things.

So then, a little under a year ago, I’m watching some show about the paranormal and animals, and some dude is recounting a story about a ghost cat or something, and I remember being like…what the fuck, animals can be ghosts? What? Because that’s not something that ever occurred to me before, and not something I had heard of. And the guy went on to say something like if the animals were mistreated in life, they have as much chance to come back as a person-ghost who died tragically or something. And I just like, had a flash, of realizing how we had definitely mistreated the birds, and how I only hear screaming birds in their room, at 3:00 am, and it was just sort of an “everything clicked together moment”, and I was like, shit. I’m being haunted by my old pet parakeets.

I still hear them all the time, but I mean, I’m not turning out lights or telling them to shut up anymore, because honestly? They definitely have a reason to complain and make their voices heard over that. Like, if they need to let out frustration from beyond the grave, they definitely have my attention.

Okay, on to Amish Satan.

So in…Fifth grade, my class took a field trip to Lancaster, to tour some old coal mines and see some donkeys and stuff. It was nothing special, honestly, but it was a fun trip. So anyway, they had a little gift shop the let us go into because what’s a field trip without souvenirs? And they were mostly selling coal related stuff- I’ve got a little statue of a mouse made out of coal on my nightstand that I got there. But they were also selling these little Amish dolls, right? So as a young girl with a great love for dolls (I used to have a huge collection of all kinds), obviously I had to get one.

So I picked out a guy doll because I loved the shade of blue they used for his shirt, he had little black suspenders and a black hat, it was cute. Paid the store owner, got on the bus with my new little friend to head home.

(Completely unrelated to the story, but back then I was anime trash and decided to name this poor thing Kiyo after the main character from Zatch Bell lmao)

So anyway, on the bus home, I started getting slightly…unsettled by the fact he didn’t have a face. Like, it didn’t bother me when I bought him, but now it was starting to really freak me out. I kept asking the teachers why Amish dolls didn’t have faces, but no one had answers for me, which was frustrating, because I thought if I could understand the reasoning, it wouldn’t freak me out as much.

I was starting to regret buying it, but when we got back to school, my friend Rachel whipped out a sharpie and said “It’s yours anyway, just give him a face yourself!” which sounded like a relatively good idea. I drew the least intimidating face I could- two simple big eyes, point for a nose, big goofy smile with his tongue sticking out. It’s cute and dumb. Seriously, I still have the doll, you don’t look at this thing and think “Satan” at all.

So, me and my friends played with this doll all the time. We’d use to make him do tricks and flip him around and stuff- I remember one year we accidentally got him stuck on the Christmas tree and left him up there with all the decorations because we thought it was the funniest thing ever. This was like our go-to doll. We loved the thing. And sure, I’d have a weird experience every now and then, but I had absolutely no reason to think it was connected to the doll, because the things weren’t that out-of-ordinary for me.

So, in sixth grade, I had to start going to this free children’s hospital in the city called Shriners, and there were always a lot of Amish people there, because it was free and they have higher risks for birth defects and problems. And I was a super shy child, but at the same time I didn’t want to sit quietly in a waiting room for a millions years, so I’d usually quietly bond with a kid over some of the toys the waiting room had out, or if I was just reading I’d still make a point to smile politely at everyone I made eye contact with. The adults always seemed suspicious of me, but I figured it was just a whole ‘Amish vs The English’ thing, or because my health problems were a lot less physically obvious than their children’s and they were upset about that. It made me feel uncomfortable, but it was nothing serious.

Except one day, I was making small talk with one family and the little girl had a doll out, and I just said something like “Oh I have one of those dolls! It has a face on it though.” And her mother got all wide eyed and dragged her kids to the other side of the room while talking in their language (I don’t know the name of it) and I was just like???? Oh shit what did I do??? Like it was strange omg.

So anyway, time goes on. I get older, I stop playing with dolls, and actually end up selling or trashing most of them. I kept the Amish doll around though, but it wasn’t like me and my friends were playing with him every day anymore. He was just there. Something inside of me couldn’t bear to get rid of him, but I wasn’t doing anything with him either.

And after a while, it started to feel weird. Like…uncomfortable. Sort of a ‘why don’t you play with me anymore’ vibe, which sounded so stupid, because I was in high school at this point, I could not justify thinking an old toy was sad. This isn’t fucking Toy Story, you know? (Incidentally, while I love the Toy Story films, they’re also lowkey my worst nightmares).

I remember edging around him. Like, he still has the same dumb, cutesy face drawn on, but something was making me uncomfortable to be around him. I felt watched and guilty and nervous. At some point he ended up on the staircase leading to my computer room, just laying there for a couple years. Neither me or my mom ever bothered to touch him.

Okay, so then I go away for my only semester of college, and one day I was in the group chat with my friends and we were talking about creepy things that have happened to us. And I brought up this doll, and they were kinda interested and I remember saying “Watch me come home for break and he’s not gonna be wear I left him” as a joke.

I get home from break…Guess who’s not fucking on the steps like he’d been for the past 3 years?

I was cracking up, I remember texting my friend Zoe who started freaking out, but I was like “Okay, creepy coincidence, but obviously my mom must’ve just moved him or thrown him out”.

…Except my mom had no idea what I was talking about. She had no memory of this doll, let alone walking past it all the time for three years while it sat on the steps. She swore she didn’t move it.

So I was like…okay,

So then I’m back home officially and I still can’t find it. I searched everywhere- not even because I wanted the doll, just because not knowing where it was was making me feel even more nervous and anxious than having to tip-toe around it. I had random scary thoughts pop up in my head of it appearing in my room suddenly, or moving on it’s own. I was really freaking myself out- being paranoid is what I’m best at.

Okay, at some point down the line, one day I’m on my couch just flicking through channels, and I come across a marathon of a show called “Amish Haunting” (Honestly, check it out if you like ghost shows, it’s pretty cool). The episode that happens to be playing is feature a segment called “The Faceless Doll” and the paranormal experience that family had when an English neighbor gave their young daughter a doll with a face. Shit got fucked up for this family. Real shit guys.

They explained within the episode that the reason for faceless dolls is because the Amish believe that fake faces- like on dolls, in photographs, what have you- are an invitation for the Devil into your home. They believe he can use the fake eyes to see into your life and watch you and grow stronger and mess you up, basically. So, when 10 year old Molly drew that face on, not only was she accidentally disrespecting the Amish’s beliefs, she was basically unwittingly inviting Satan into her house, and then using him as a best play mate with her two other Catholic School Girl friends. Iconic.

I have since found the doll- mind you, in a place where he literally never should have been- but things seem…Calmer? I do occasionally feel a little watched, but honestly I feel like now that I’m aware my doll is potentially housing Satan, we’re on better terms? Allegedly a couple of my friends have had weird experiences after insulting him, but I wasn’t around so I can’t confirm or deny. Like, I definitely still get creeped out by him, but not as much, and I don’t feel a weird sad aura around the doll anymore.

So, now I’m just kinda hoping we stay on these chill mutual grounds and I don’t, like, get possessed or anything. But yeah, that’s the story of Amish Satan, you just gotta be a little respectful with him.

🔷 Irises

Originally posted by talk-me-down-troye

Summary: You and Yoongi hate each other but somehow you still have feelings for him. 

Pairing: Painter!Yoongi x reader

Genre:  ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) u kno 

Words: 5k 

A/N: I really like ‘enemies to lovers’ fanfictions so I decided to write one. I hope you like it. I apologize for any errors.


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Mom’s First Flannel: Part 2

Part 2, yay! I think…

Part 1

MFF: Masterlist

Originally posted by lucifersagents

Originally posted by spn-spam

Staying in your room and only coming out to get food seemed to be the new schedule you had in mind to avoid your brothers. You hadn’t exactly forgiven them but you weren’t too angry about the flannel anymore, you were just angry on how your brothers always seemed to take advantage of your feelings.

After weeks of staying in your room, you decided to get out and get some fresh air. Passing the kitchen, where Sam and Dean were, you headed to the garage where your motorcycle was. You opened the garage and left with the motorcycle. You knew you probably wouldn’t be back for a few hours.


Seeing a flannel move swiftly, skipping the kitchen and heading to the garage was what the brothers saw. What made them feel worse was that the flannel was the one they tore weeks ago.

It was pure accident. Sam was doing the laundry this time, he was just about done. The clean clothes were in a basket. He was heading to your room to put your clothes in your room, when he tripped, he wasn’t too sure what he tripped on, but someone in the room found it slightly amusing. “Dude, you just fell over nothing.” Dean laughed.

“Thanks, jerk. Now, would you mind helping me pick up everything?” Sam asked. “Sure…bitch,” Dean replied.

After picking up most of the clothes, there was one flannel that Sam and Dean noticed. It was their little sister’s flannel. The one she wore most of the time. Sam reached for it, not knowing it was caught on a nail on the floor. The second he tugged it from the floor it ripped, but not all the way, just about half way. His eyes went wide, and he called over Dean. “I’m going to go fix the flannel, you can pick up the rest of the clothes and put them where they belong.” Sam asserted.

I think that you can finish up your chore, and I’ll just fix the flannel,” Dean advised grabbing part of the flannel. Sam silently disagreed so he pulled at the flannel, Dean pulled as well, but in the opposite direction. They both pulled in their own direction until they heard a rip. They glanced down at the same time to see that they each had a half of the flannel.

They dropped it in unison.

“Dude, what are we supposed to do?” Sam fretted. “It’ll be fine Sammy, it’s just a flannel,” Dean suggested, but on the inside, he was terrified. “I guess, but don’t you ever wonder why she wears that one the most, what if it means something to her?” “It’s just a flannel Sam, how much could it mean to her?”

But then you walked in…

They both had the thought of chasing after you to apologize once again but when they decided to follow you, you were already gone.


Days, that’s how long you left and the brothers have been worried sick, they called you non-stop. They understood why you didn’t call, but at the same time, it had been weeks without seeing you and days since you left the bunker.

After another few days, they finally got a call from you. Dean answered his phone and put it on speaker. “Y/n, do you realize how worried we’ve been, I get you’re angry but that doesn’t give—”

“Dean, it’s Cas, Y/n…she..something happened to her.”


Part 3

Part 4: Ending 1

Part 4: Ending 2

Tagging: @winchesters-favorite-girl @u-snavi @mrspadalackles @moose-and-sqruille-lover 

anonymous asked:

Remember the self harm ask? Could you do something where MC catches seven relapsing and something kinda fluffy kinda angsty ensues? If you're okay with it of course. If you're not comfortable writing it that's okay

i personally feel like i suck at angst but hey, i tried ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

(if you want to read what i guess inspired this, check it out here)

trigger warning: self harm


  • Despite living with both Saeyoung and Saeran, you hadn’t seen neither of them in days
  • Saeran had gotten slighty better mentally since he came home from the hospital a few weeks back, but because he felt bad about his random outbursts of anger, he had locked himself into his room to not yell at you
  • Seven was feeling guilty because he couldn’t help his brother more, and with his agency work in addition, he also locked himself into his room
  • He didn’t even respond to your texts and calls
  • Feeling worried and pretty fed up with his shit, you decided to try to comfort your boyfriend
  • You walked to his door, hoping he would let you in so you could talk 
  • Just as you were about to knock, you heard muffled crying from his room
  • You tried to open his door but it wouldn’t budge, so you found the cat robot to help you
  • With its help you got the door open, but part of you wished you hadn’t managed
  • On the bed, looking like a deer in the headlights, was your boyfriend desperately trying to wipe the fresh blood away from his arms
  • “S-Saeyoung..?”
  • Feeling defeated, he dropped the blade from his hand and hung his head.
  • “I’m sorry… I know I promised you not to, but…”
  • You hugged him carefully to not touch his arms, and he started sobbing on your shoulder
  • “Shh… I know it’s hard, okay? No one blames you for what has happened. I know it doesn’t seem like that, but even Saeran knows deep down that this isn’t your fault. The only one who doesn’t know is you, so please stop blaming yourself. You’re not a bad person, okay?”
  • “I don’t deserve you, MC… You could’ve been happy with someone else, why would you choose me? I’m… I’m sad, I make you sad, I make Saeran sad, I don’t know what to do!”
  • You noticked his breath hitching and saw that he was on the werge of panicking, so you cupped his faced and made him look into your eyes
  • “Listen here, Saeyoung. I know that you are in a lot of pain, we all are, but nothing will get solved by suffering alone. We need each other, okay? I need you so much, and I hate seeing you like this. I love you, and I want to help you. Do you understand that?”
  • He looked down, too ashamed to meet your eyes, and nodded
  • You kissed his cheek and took his hand, leading him to the bathroom where the first aid kit was
  • “Let’s get you cleaned up, yeah? Then all three of us can take a walk to the park to get some ice cream, I think we all need some fresh air”
  • When he saw your sad face as you cleaned his deeper wounds, he wondered how he got so lucky as to have you
  • “I know I’m not particularly good at saying this, but… Thank you. For taking care of me, for helping me, for loving me. I really do love you back, I’m sorry that I’m so distant sometimes”
  • He wrapped you into his arms as soon as they were bandaged up, and promised to always take care of you


~jane

“I’m not going to put myself in a situation I know I’ll be uncomfortable and stressed in,” shouldn’t warrant being told to just “give it a chance,” after months of “"giving it a chance,”“ and shouldn’t warrant being forced to do something that will make you unhappy, and after you don’t give in it still shouldn’t warrant the silent treatment and anger.

Handling a situation with maturity and calmness should not result in hostility from the other person.

You should always have the right to refuse going into a situation.

Hajime shows up at Tooru’s door at seven thirty. Granted he’s a bit early, since he and Tooru had agreed to meet up at seven forty five before going to the movies, but he managed to catch an earlier bus than expected before walking the rest of the way to Tooru’s house.

He likes Tooru’s house. He likes the series of plants lining the stoop, and he likes the big window in the living room that lets in so much sunlight. He likes the cozy and warm feel to it, but what he likes most about it is how Tooru it is.

He doesn’t think much of anything when he knocks at the door and Tooru doesn’t answer right away. Hajime pulls his phone out of his pocket, scrolling through a few messages. He answers one from one of his co-workers - no, he does not want to switch shifts with him - and clicks on another, looking up when he hears a loud thump come from inside Tooru’s house.

“Tooru?” Hajime calls, knocking on the door again. “You there?” He’s about to knock again when the door swings open, a frantic Tooru on the other side of it.

Hajime’s heart sinks as soon as he sees him.

Tooru looks exhausted.

He’s rubbing his eyes, the remnants of a yawn escaping his lips. Even his hands can’t hide the bags under his eyes, purple and swollen and showing just how little he’s been sleeping. His hair is messy and looks like he hasn’t gotten the chance to wash it in a couple of days. He’s still wearing his work clothes, but there’s a stain on his shirt and the clothes themselves are wrinkled and worn. He squints when he sees Hajime, his expression shocked once he shakes off some of his exhaustion.

“Hajime?” He says, blinking, clearly very confused. “You… what are you doing here…?”

Hajime swallows, looking Tooru up and down. He really doesn’t look like himself at all. When Tooru puts his hand on the door, Hajime can see how he’s been picking at his nail beds, leaving them raw and an angry red.

A bad habit Tooru had given up back in college, he’d thought.

Keep reading

Homecoming

Originally posted by inacatastrophicmind

Request: Charlie flirts with the sister reader and the boys get overprotective of the reader?

Pairing: Charlie x sister!reader

Word Count: 1,000ish

Warnings: language

A/N: So much big brother Winchesters going on…


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Professor Scamander and the Slytherin Prefect

CHAPTER 8 – JEALOUSY INDUCED – 3.2k

MASTERLIST

A/n: this chapter gets super angsty at the end, so prepare yoselves // also in this chapter newt might seem a little OOC, but don’t worry, all will be explained in the next chapter :D

Tags: @notgreengrass @just-another-teen01 @apareciumimagines @rebeccamaximoff @deaths-maiden @percivalcraves @pharaohkiller @fckingstorytime @retardedhumanhere   @chloevvasquez @fortisfiliae @rose4958 @jackdawsonsgrl @running-outta-time @johnmurphys-sass (sorry if I couldn’t tag you)

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Not always caring...

Long story, TL;DR at the bottom.

There is a large assisted living complex for adults with mental and/or physical disabilities close to the restaurant where I work as a server. The complex is divided into different buildings, which in turn are broken down into groups. We often cater for them for their special events and they also come in for meals at the restaurant.

The “Fuck customers” refers to the carers being total douches in this case, not the residents. One time, they had a pre-arranged dinner with a total of about 30 people.

I started taking the drink order, out of the first 6 people, 4 were residents and they all ordered beer. As I know that they are all older than 16 (the country’s legal beer+wine drinking age), I don’t have to ask for ID so I only ask if they want [brand A] or [brand B] from the tab and if they want a small or a large one. When I ask resident number 5, he asks me if they are both alcohol free as they aren’t allowed to have alcohol because of their meds. Great that someone finally shares that piece of vital information with me but why is it one of the residents and not one of the workers?? The carer sitting right next to him even said “oh yeah, that’s right. Good job you remembered, [name]”- Looking after and helping the residents is literally your job, lady! You and your co-workers are right now out for dinner while you are on the clock and the whole check is also being picked up by your workplace! Which is btw something the employees like to remind us of when they pick up the necessary papers (the bill is paid via bank transfer):  "[..]unfortunately, we can’t tip you. [Name of the place] doesn’t have a budget for that. But you were amazing as always, see you soon!“  Well cheers, thankfully, my car runs on compliments so that is my commute for the next days sorted. As the legal drinking age has given away, the story doesn’t take place in the US and I am not a tipped employee, so automatic gratuity isn’t a thing. Yet, waiters are still not really paid a lot but the reasons for that are a rent for another day!

It’s after dinner and I get the sense that they will soon leave. So I go to the back office and check if we have everything we need for the billing process. Turns out, we don’t, I am at least missing the name of the building the group lives in. We have had issues with them before cause even though we used the information they gave us for the invoice, one of the employees came back to tell us to issue another bill including X,Y in the billing address but to put item Z on a different invoice because “the admins won’t except it like this”- Okay, why did you say “we need one invoice for this” then back when I asked you after diner?? I come back to the front, maybe 3 minutes have passed, and the whole group is gone! Then I see what the floor looks like: loads of these tiny medication wrappers were lying around! That room has shag pile carpet so I will have to either spend a lot of time on my knees, picking them up one by one or hoover for ages cause that was before we got a new hoover which literally sucks instead of the old one which just made a lot of noise but didn’t actually clean the carpet. I wonder if the carers are also that careless with the trash when handing out the meds to the residents when they are the ones who have to clean it up. Thanks for nothing!

5-10 minutes later, I see one of the residents coming inside. He asks me where the others are. I tell him, they have all left. He gets upset but not all shouty, it’s more of a sad- upset kind of mood,saying he only went outside for a bit, for some fresh air and cigarettes. They forgot him!  Apparently, checking if all the people who were in your car when you drove to the restaurant, are also in your car when you head home, is too much to ask! I told him that he can take a seat, while I give them a ring so that someone comes in to pick them up. So I phone the number from our reservation book, and the following happens:

Me:“ Hi, this is [name]. I work at [restaurant] and I was wondering if I am speaking to one of the carers who just paid us a visit with some residents.”

Carer: “Yes, we just had dinner at your place.”

Me: “Okay, I have a young man here who is a bit upset because you drove off without him. Could one of you please come and pick him up?”

Carer:“ *mumbles something I can’t catch* Okay, I’ll be there in a bit." 

Me: "That’s great. Could you please come inside then, I’d like to quickly double check if need additional information to bill you”

Carer:“Okay, bye”

I inform the bloke that someone will be here shortly before I carry on with my duties. We make some small talk, he compliments my long hair, I get a bit uncomfortable as I always get when a male customer starts with compliments. But unlike the others, he follows his compliment up with “and it is always important to ask if you are allowed to touch a girl’s hair”. I am surprised that for once, some customer has some understanding of consent! I see a car stopping in front of the restaurant and ask him to remind the person who picks him up, to come in for a minute cause I have some important questions. He says yes and says his goodbyes, leaves and gets in the car. ,After a few moments, the car drives off! Well thanks, you incompetent “carer” for not doing your job and not doing as I told you and surely the poor guy you forgot told you again. But we did get paid. 

TL;DR: Employees of the nearby home for people with disabilities are shitty customers by

-not informing waitstaff that the residents aren’t allowed to have alcohol and one of the residents has to inform me; 

- leaving loads of tiny bits of trash on a carpet which is difficult to clean

-leaving one resident behind and

- not following instructions. 

anonymous asked:

What's wawa???

OKAY LISTEN UP EVERYBODY BECAUSE I MIGHT AS WELL MAKE THIS A POST

This shit right here

is a Wawa

Now before any of you fuckers say “isn’t that just a convenience store?”, shut up and listen here

Yes, it is technically a convenience store. But it is the superior convenience store, and the air that anybody living in Pennsylvania or New Jersey breathes

Why is it superior, you may ask?

  • every store has no-fee ATMs
  • open 24/7
  • kind, sociable employees that don’t hate their jobs
  • employees are paid above minimum wage
  • milk is sold at the lowest price allowed by law
  • their prepared food is always fresh and is delicious, and they have a wide variety (hoagies, soups, cheesesteaks, wraps, breakfast sandwiches, meatballs, etc.)
  • a wide variety of delicious coffee (and certain days where you can get unlimited free coffee !!)
  • “Super” Wawas also have gas stations, clean bathrooms, and are twice the size as normal Wawas

Basically it’s Jesus reincarnated into a store and they’re every five feet in Pennsylvania and New Jersey. I am so sorry if you’ve never been to one.

Towel

Jungkook x Reader

Drabble

*gif not mine

Genre: flooooooof (fluff)

Word Count: 1445

Summary: Y/N goes to take a shower, only to find someone has already beaten her to it.

A/N: :)))))))


Waking up at the ungodly hour of 7:30AM (in your opinion because who in their right mind willingly gets up earlier than 10 o’clock??), your eyes flicker open to the distinctly familiar ceiling above that seems to be less than three feet away from your face—you’d have to start getting used to that. You close your eyes again, scooching yourself further under the covers, and relish in the feeling of clean sheets. You could tell Jungkook had put a lot of effort into cleaning his room before your arrival in Seoul considering it was typically cluttered (from what you remember in your many Skype sessions with said man) and was now significantly organized. To say you had felt touched by the gesture was a rather gross understatement—Jungkook wanted you to feel as at home as possible in a place so far from where you grew up. You’d be lying if you said it didn’t make you want to cry at least a little.

The moment you’d slid under the covers the night before, the crisp, fresh feeling had overwhelmed you. There was something so uniquely refreshing and comforting about clean, well-made beds, and the lovely fabric softening scent imbued in the threading made you wonder if this was how Jungkook’s clothes smelled.

You shift beneath the sheets, and peak your head out from under the hypnotizing scent of clean laundry (was that Downy?) and into the fresh air of the “Golden Closet.” You take a deep breath, taking one last moment to enjoy this—all of it—before deciding to hop into the shower before anyone else woke up. You were well aware of how long your “quick showers” ended up being as your stream of consciousness flowed through you like the water from the pipes to the showerhead, and sent spiraling down the drain again to repeat the process.

You bunch the covers below your ankles, and carefully make your way down the ladder of the bunk bed, making sure not to hit your head. You navigate your way about the almost cramped room to your suitcase and pull the clothes you would wear that day from the innards of the plastic case, making a mental note to unpack later.

You open the door slowly, so as not to disturb the boys who might still be sleeping—you hoped, for your sake—and especially for your poor boyfriend (geez, even after all this time, the title still gave you butterflies) who so chivalrously offered to take the couch that night.

You look around to assure that the coast was clear before quietly making your way to where you remember the nearest bathroom had been. As you approach the door, your hand reaches out to grab hold of the nob, but your efforts are thwarted in the end as said door swings open.

You gasp in surprise, scrambling backward quickly to provide the bathroom’s occupant room to exit. The occupant, however, seemed to be ruffling his hair with a towel, eyes trained on the ground in deep thought, and out of the corner of your eye, you notice several rivulets of leftover water rolling down the man’s apparently bare chest. The droplets roll down the skin of the man’s neck, over his defined pectorals, through the lines of what are apparently his fucking abs, and beneath the singular towel hanging on the man’s narrow hips. You gulp uncomfortably.

The man eventually seems to notice your presence as you continue to admire his well-sculpted—

“Y/N?” The man questions, a bold eyebrow lifting in question, halting your train of thought, and your gaze flies back up to the face belonging to the familiar voice of the half-freaking-naked man.

“Jungkook!” You squeak out embarrassedly. Your face visibly colors at the idea of your boyfriend having caught your blatant ogling. You hadn’t meant to stare, but you couldn’t help it! He looked too fucking drool-worthy…

Shit. You weren’t drooling, were you? You reach a hand up to quickly check for any traces of rampant saliva oozing from your mouth, and your body practically collapses in relief when you find none… Until you once again realize that Jungkook had likely caught you staring. 

“I-I-I-I didn’t know anyone was up and I was going to try and get ready quickly before anyone else so I wouldn’t be a burden but then you popped up and I-I-I just—”

Your eyes begin to travel down Jungkook’s incredibly fucking attractive form again, but you catch yourself with scolding thoughts.

“So, err, why are you up?” You query, your voice much too high-pitched to be considered normal. You really hoped Jungkook didn’t notice.

Jungkook scratches the back of his neck nervously, a slight pink forming on his cheeks, his eyes unable to meet yours. “It’s nothing. Don’t worry about it.”

Your eyebrows pinch together in concern. You could tell he was lying.

“Jungkook, were you unable to sleep? I told you that you didn’t have to take the couch. I’ll take it tonight so you don’t have to suffer—”

“No!” Jungkook exclaims, his eyes finally finding yours. “I-I don’t want you to do that. I want you to have my bed. I don’t want you sleeping on the couch ‘cause you’ll be uncomfortable…”

“Jungkook, it doesn’t matter to me, really! I’ll take the couch.”

Jungkook’s face hardens with a look of steely determination. “Well, it matters to me. You get the bed. I take the couch. Okay?”

You weren’t really sure why you were so surprised by Jungkook’s behavior as he’d been kind to you from the very start, but you were nevertheless.

“I just… don’t want you to be uncomfortable, Jungkook. This is yours and the boys’ home, not mine. It’s your bed. But… if you’re so adamant about me not taking the couch…” You battle with your eyes to stay on Jungkook’s—a rather challenging feat. “…Then sleep with me… on the bed…”

Jungkook’s eyes widen dramatically. “Are you sure you’re comfortable with that, yet?”

You hesitate, looking down at your feet. “Uhh… Well…”

Jungkook tosses the towel he’d been using to dry his hair over his shoulder and takes your free hand in his—much to your surprise and slight discomfort.

“Don’t worry about it, okay? I’ll be fine. I promise.”

You pout slightly. “You don’t look fine, though.”

“Y/N, stop worrying.” You pull your hand from Jungkook’s gently, giving him a sheepish smile.

“I guess I’ll, uh, let you get ready, then… I’ll just go… take my shower now…”

Jungkook nods, his eyebrows scrunched together in thought at your odd behavior. “Okay.”

You nod blankly, your body on autopilot after trying so hard to control your desire to ogle your boyfriend some more, and set your belongings and toiletries down on the bathroom counter when Jungkook speaks up.

“You know,” he starts. You turn your attention to Jungkook, who was currently leaning against the doorframe of the bathroom. “You’re not as subtle as you think you are.” Jungkook winks at you with an amused smirk as your face flushes with the growing realization of his meaning, and you shove him out of the bathroom.

“Out! Get. Out!” You shut the door rather loudly, and cringe at the noise, hoping it hadn’t been loud enough to wake the others, and lean against the back of the door in panic. You lift your now tingling hands to look at them in wonderment. You’d just touched Jungkook’s bare chest. You’d just touched Jungkook’s bare chest. 

You shake your hands rapidly as if trying to shake away the feeling of Jungkook’s silky, smooth skin, and slap your cheeks in an attempt to get a grip on yourself. Chill the fuck out, Y/N. You only touched him.

But you touched him while he was naked, a voice in the back of your mind reminds you. “Shut. Up.” You whisper to yourself.

Besides, Jungkook was your boyfriend. Ogling your boyfriend wasn’t a crime. You were allowed to ogle your boyfriend… Right? 

“You know you can’t hide in there forever, right?” Jungkook says from the other side of the door.

“Try me,” you challenge. “Besides, don’t you have better things to do than torture your girlfriend?”

Jungkook giggles. “Nope!”

You groan, dragging a hand down your very hot face. “Get a life, you weirdo!”

“Not unless you’re a part of it~” Jungkook sings, and if you thought you had been embarrassed before, that was nothing compared to now.

“Go away! You’re so freaking cheesy! Ughhh.”

Jungkook continues to giggle at your responses. “Whatever you say, Y/N~”

And at that, you hear footsteps leading away from the bathroom, and sigh in relief. “That man’s going to be the death of me.”

You were sure of it.


A/N: Hint hint: you should pay attention to how and when I started and end this little drabble series ;). Also, Jungkook does use Downy fabric softener in real life.

Never Have I Ever

(my first klance fic~ thanks to @kageyama-tobiyo for the encouragement!!)

                                 ————————————-

The last time the castle malfunctioned, its system had been poisoned by a Galra virus.

This time, it’s Pidge’s and Hunk’s fault. 

Keith stares at the crack between the floor and door, watching the frantic shadows run across the marble floor. There’s a vein throbbing in his forehead.

“Seriously, who thinks it’s a good idea to play with the castle’s systems while we’re trying to clean?!” Lance yells, smacking the door lightly. Keith can really only see his shoes; his eyes are still adjusting to the darkness. 

Outside, Hunk whines. “We’re sorry, man! We’re trying to fix it!” 

“Well,” Keith sighs, leaning against the wall, “At least there’s enough room for fresh air to get in.” 

Lance hums and moves away from the door. “Good excuse to stop cleaning, too.” 

Keith chuckles quietly. Lance smiles a bit as he looks around the room, searching the darkness. Boredom is already kicking in. Soon enough Coran will come back to check on their progress; he’s kind of looking forward to all the yelling that’ll happen. At least it’ll be entertaining to listen to.

“Hey.” Keith doesn’t respond, so Lance says, “Let’s play a game. Let’s plaaaaaay… Never Have I Ever!” 

“What’s that?”

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Help From A Stranger // Jackson Wang

Originally posted by fuckyeah-gotseven

Pairing: Jackson x Reader

Genre: Fluff

Summary; After falling whilst running, a perfect stranger - Jackson, comes to your rescue.

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lovely; part ii

REQUESTS ARE OPEN

PROMPT; in which archie andrews finds himself smitten with a dear friend, and after a not-so-fun encounter during lunch, it dawns on him that its about time he comes clean.

PARING/CHARACTERS; archie andrews x reader, jughead jones, betty cooper, and veronica lodge.

WARNINGS; god you’re gonna hate me but angst, feels and possibly fluff at the end.

AUTHOR’S NOTE; aaaaaaaand its back from high demand! i usually don’t do part twos to a lot of my imagines (i’ve had previous blogs) so this is a bit odd for me. either way, i hope you all enjoy!

PART ONE


It had been weeks since the dance, and for Archie, nothing had really been the same.

The world was duller and sadder. The bright red neon lights outside of Pop’s never seemed welcoming anymore. The playground behind one of the elementary schools always seemed depressing when the swing would move with the wind.

His music and grades fell slowly, chipping away like his heart did. Everyone noticed the ginger’s change in heart, the change in his personality.

You noticed it, and it made your heart shatter.

You had tried talking to him, but he would just look at you and walk away. Hell, you cornered him in the locker room once when all the boys had left.

You had never seen him so mad or upset when you did that. He looked ready to hit you, but, of course, he didn’t. He had just gripped your hand tightly and basically told you to never talk to him again.

So you didn’t.

And you had lost one of your closest friends.

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shortiemcbealle  asked:

Not an ask but just a bit of kudos, I am really diggin "Tales from the Past". I'm very curious to see if Claire thinks it all a big coincidence and how Uncle Lamb will react to all of the info they find? Thank you for the lovely writing.

Tales From the Past | Part I, Part II

Scotland was unlike anything I had ever seen before.  The land was an unbelievable shade of green and more beautiful than I could have ever imagined. The image I had of my witch and whisky maker family fit perfectly within this landscape. The rolling hills leading to towering mountains, and the glistening lakes reflecting the scenery around them gave the air of magic and endless possibilities. The deeper into the Highlands we travelled, the easier it was to see how the Scots, and my Scots in particular, transitioned and settled in the mountains of North Carolina. There was a familiarity between the two, but whereas Scotland felt old and full of legends, the North Carolinian mountains had an air of youthful mystery in comparison.

“Are we there yet, Uncle?” I asked as yet another town flashed beyond the car windows.

“Not yet my dear. We’ll be there in no time at all, just enjoy the scenery. Maybe you could come up with your own legend by the time we get to our destination!” He cheered then went back to humming a nameless tune.

I sighed and looked longingly out the window. I just wanted to be there, I wanted to see their home and find out more. “Are we going to Broch Morda and Lallybroch?” I asked not five seconds later.

“No, Claire.” Uncle Lamb said with authority. “We’re headed to a town called Inverness. My correspondent who can trace their lineage back to Lallybroch itself lives there. She’s more than willing to tell her family stories and that of her husband’s as well.”

“Fine.” I grumbled, “I still wish we were going straight to Lallybroch. Something is pulling me in that direction, we need to go there.”

“Patience my dear, we will get there, just after we’ve heard what these Murray’s have to say.” Lamb winked.

Inverness was beautiful, tucked away at the top of Loch Ness I could see the appeal and history all around, but I was restless.

“How long do we have to be here?”

“Long enough,” He laughed guiding me towards the door. “I thought you wanted to hear the legends?”

I groaned, “I do but I want to go see Lallybroch more!”

“Let’s see what they have to say first. We’ll need their story to help further our investigation, despite your curious insistence!” Uncle Lamb cut me off before I could speak further.

“Fine,” I murmured into my arm that rested on the door. My excitement crushed for a moment.

The countryside blurred by until the faintest idea of a town sprung up in spires and stone.

“Inverness?” I asked looking to at Uncle Lamb. He grinned and nodded, weaving our way through the streets to the tea room where the mysterious Murray’s awaited our arrival.

“Here we are, m’dear!” Lamb exclaimed throwing the car door open. “Would you get my satchel from the boot? We may need to take photographs and extra pens and paper! You never know what all they’ll have or have to say!”

His excitement was contagious and I felt my own lift to a nervous bubble. I still longed to see the fabled home, but deep down I knew I needed to hear what the Murray’s had to say.

“Are you Quentin Lambert?” A tall and lanky man with jet black hair and gray eyes asked as he approached our car.

“That I am! You must be Alexander Murray,” Lamb greeted, clasping the man’s hand.

Mr. Murray chuckled and nodded. “Aye, and this is my sister Jennifer.” He gestured to short girl with the same black hair and gray eyes.

“We’ve already got a kettle on, please join us inside.” Her smile was kind, but wary.

“Claire! Don’t forget the books!” Uncle Lamb called from over his shoulder absentmindedly as he entered the quaint stone building.

I took a moment to breathe in my surroundings. The bustle of people and their cars contrasting against the ancient stone buildings. If I closed my eyes and blocked out the modern sounds I could believe I was there when it all began. I could feel the clean Scottish air as it wrapped itself around me and those on the streets, smell the the roasting meats from taverns and hearth fires as well as fresh bannocks and bread, and I could imagine the sounds of wagon wheels and horse’s hooves on cobble and splattering mud. My imagination took me to a world where I could imagine my whisky making Scot walking down the street, and with a swish of a kilt he was gone.

“Miss Beauchamp?” I jumped, startled, my eyes flying open as the pack fell to the street. “Och, sorry. I dinna mean to give ye such a fright. Yer uncle was asking for ye. I came to fetch ye inside.”

My cheeks reddened from getting caught in my fantasy. The real world felt foreign and distant compared to where my mind had just held me. I slowly retrieved Uncle Lamb’s bag and followed Jennifer Murray inside.

“Claire! Claire! There you are, what kept you? No matter, you really must hear what young Mr. Murray has told me about his family! There was a tale that originated from a great uncle of sorts, and that very uncle could be the James Fraser we are striving to find! But I’m very much more fascinated in this enthralling tale of a cave, espionage and freedom! Please, come sit. Sit and listen!” Lamb managed to get all of this out in a single breath, his face red, but eyes alight with excitement. I noticed his hands were already ink-stained and smudged, his left worst of all.  

“Breathe Uncle.” I said, laying a hand to his shoulder. “I’m sure Mr. Murray doesn’t wish to recount the tale again.”

“I dinna mind at all! Would ye like some tea before I start?” Alexander Murray gestured to the barely touched tray of tea and shortbread.

“Yes, thankyou.” I replied, pouring my own cup and grabbing a biscuit.

“As I was telling your very enthusiastic Uncle, my family has many tales and legends as does most here in the highlands. But one, we can go so far to say, is one of the more famous ones.” he said lowering his voice with a wink. “This one legend was said to be the Laird of Broch Tuarach during the uprising of Prince Tearlach in 1745. It’s said that the Laird was spared at the battle of Culloden or most likely escaped the clutches of the British and fled back to his homeland. His hair was a fiery red, easily spotted and gave him little chances to hide. My–” he paused and then gestured to his sister, “–our great-great-great grandmother was this Laird’s sister. She hid him in a priest hole that her recently dead sister-in-law had told her to build. You see the Laird’s wife was a Sassenach and a faerie.

“The folk in the highlands were wary of her and her healing abilities, even though the laird loved her more than life. She was among those caught in the crossfire of Culloden. The Laird being so distraught had nearly given up the will to live and when he was well enough to stand, decided to hide in the hillside to better protect his family.”

“Och! You’re tellin it wrong Sawny!” Jennifer interrupted.

“Och aye? Am I? Weel why dinna you tell it then and let me save my voice!” he said and smugly crossed his arms and legs into a relaxed position.

“I will then!” She settled herself deep into her chair.

“As my brother said, our great-great-great grandmother was the sister to the Laird who became legend, and it is from her that we get our story. Before the days of Culloden and the blackened soul of Prince Tearlach set this bonnie nation into strife, the Murray’s and Fraser’s lived peacefully on the estate. The young Laird had taken a faerie to wife, but all that knew her well enough said she was kinder than of any fae, and that she loved the Laird and his family to the ends of time. It was when she caught a vision of great strife and suffering for her beloved’s people, she told her good sister to plant crops that would yield a great amount, and prepare hidden storages including a priest’s hole under the kitchen cellar. The fae and her husband rushed out to protect the people and try to stop the horror she had seen from coming to fruition.

“They had earned the trust of Prince Tearlach, and made their way into his inner council. Night after night, day after day, the Laird tried to convince the Prince of his doomed cause, but to no avail. The horror still approached and overcame the people of this good nation. Killing thousands, destroying homes and the highland culture at it’s roots. The faerie wife, so distraught at the destruction of her adopted home, begged for her people to save the Scots, to turn back time and not let it happen, but they didna answer. Instead, it’s said she curled up on a faerie hill just outside Inverness and died of a broken heart. Unable to save her beloved nor her new people, and the old ones wouldnae have her back.

“However, the Laird did survive! He made his way home to Broch Tuarach where his sister tended to his physical wounds, but nothing could take away the pain he felt at the death of his wife. He hid for months in the priest’s hole, listening to raid after raid from the British soldiers and he could have it no more. He was too much of a danger to his family, and he couldna bear to lose another part of his heart. One night, he hid himself deep into the caves of the hills that surrounded his property with naught but a dun bonnet to his name. Just far enough that he would pose no danger, but close enough that if he was needed, he could be called upon. For seven years he hid by himself in the caves, coming out at night, clad in brown from head to toe, hiding the flames of his hair under bonnet and cloak of night to deliver fresh meat of his kills to his people and family.

“The Laird’s most faithful servant would risk his life week after week to bring the Laird fresh ale, clothes, and news of the town and of his family when the laird could not make his way down the mountain. On a day, not unlike today, where the sun shone high and the temperature mild, the servant raced up the hill bringing his lairdship fresh supplies, only to be stopped by a wicked cluster of British soldiers. They accused the lad of stealing and chopped his hand off for his crimes, then stole the Laird’s supplies for their own gain. Outraged the Laird tended the lad as best he could in the cave before taking him to the estate for proper healing. It was then the Laird decided that his time in the caves were at an end. He had to stand, he needed to fight the cruelty and oppression being imposed on his people.

“Seven years since the uprising, and there was still a traitor’s reward for the Laird. The laird asked his brother-in-law to turn himself in, grab the stirling reward and feed the family and people he could no longer protect.”

Jennifer stood up and went to the window. I blinked trying to come back to the world around me. The tale she had spun so vivid in my mind, like that was the true reality and not this tea parlour.

“What happened to him? The Laird?” I asked, desperate to hear more.

She turned, the light a halo around her silhouette, “The Dun Bonnet Laird went to prison to save his family. If you go back to our family’s ancestral home and speak to the locals they may tell you of him in a different way, the story altering from family to family. But one thing is for sure, they say on the old fire feasts, ye can see the Dun Bonnet standing at the mouth of his cave, keeping his vigil for all who are under his protection.”