which is actually good because i write down all my nightmares

Writing Is Hard

Summary: Dean finds the blog you use to read smutty fan fiction. And of course, he decides he can write a better story about himself. You help.

Warning: Smut, some dirty talk, mutual masturbation, all kinds of fan fiction clichés

Word Count: 4350

A/N: This is all written with love for fan fic. I’m teasing, not putting it down in any way. And thanks to @littlegreenplasticsoldier​ for being a great beta and being generally flawless. Hope you enjoy! XOXO


No. This isn’t happening.

This is one of those moments you’d had weird nightmares about, dreams that left you embarrassed and feeling all icky the next day until you finally convinced yourself that it wasn’t real. And just like those moments, this one will end any second now. You’ll wake up in some motel bed, Dean will be in the next room with Sam, asleep or showering or eating or anything but standing over your laptop with that look on his face.

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Imagine : Being Hope Mikaelson’s Twin and Kol blames the Family for constantly ignoring you (part 3)

I AM STILL CRYING ABOUT LOOSING THIS DAMN PART. SWEAR SOMEONE SAY SOMETHING BAD ABOUT THIS PART I WILL STOP WRITING THIS SERIES


Part 2 :  http://nightgirl250.tumblr.com/post/154484517050/imagine-being-hope-mikaelsons-twin-and-kol


Part 1 : http://nightgirl250.tumblr.com/post/153920428680/imagine-being-hope-mikaelsons-twin-and-kol?is_related_post=1



tagged queens: 

@thejulietfarciertlove @meggleangelo (tell me if you want to become one)



___________________________________________________________



Young!Reader x Uncle!Kol, Young!Reader x Father!Klaus, Young!Reader x Uncle!Elijah





I took a deep breath as the cold air pricked my skin. * why is it so fucking cold *. I pull my jacket closer to my body as the wind blows down the school hallway. “Hurry up Y/n,” my friends Jason and Kara say waiting for me at the gym door. We were heading to the gym since we have to go talk to our gym coach about the pacer test along with meet Hope. ^ Whoopee!^


“Slow down guys remember crouches,” I say tilting my head to the crutches in my hands. “Sorry Black Canary,” says Jason using my nicknames while scratching the back of his head as I finally catch up with them. “It’s fine to let’s just go before lunch ends I am hungry,” I said as we head into the gym when I remembered my plan. I still need to give Jason and Kara the goodbye letters. *Oh yeah soon I won’t see them for as long as they think we will. At least now I won’t be able to bother them anymore. Jason won’t have to wait for me at the end of the street so we could talk. And he could go out with Hope like he wanted to. Kara would have less competition when it comes to ballet tryouts. I am doing them a solid they don’t need to baby me anymore. No one will not even myself* I thought. *The voices will stop no more looking at the knife, in lust. Or wanting to kill someone, along with dreams of torture*. ^Yeah honey like we said your end is the end^. I felt like screaming as the Voice poisonous sound rings through me.


“Hey are you ok, ” asks Kara. “Yeah don’t worry about it I am just thinking about something,”.^More like hearing something, but don’t worry it will end soon just remember the goodbye^.

“Hey if you guys don’t see me for a while, remember that I love you guys ok, “I said not looking at them to see their faces.

“What do you mean are you going somewhere ?” Said Kara frantic, she was always caring for me but if you annoy her too long she will fight you in a heartbeat. “No nothing major just you know visiting some family for a while, ” I said as Jason goes to talk to out gym coach for us while we talk. ^family on the other side^

“But why all your family lives in New Orleans?”She asked. “No not all of them I have am Aunt who lives in Maryland,”I lie.^Ooohh lying you your best friend when you know it’s your last time to see her how pityful^

“How long is a while? Wait are you sure cause Hop–”


“Look it doesn’t matter what Hope says or doesn’t I am nor Hope nor will I ever be.  I am just going away for some time and to answer your how long question. I am not sure but I will come back ok?” I lie. *Thou I hate lying to them it is necessary for their own good. She doesn’t need to know, I am just a burden her parents don’t even like me as they prefer Hope. Once again Hope wins The Voices in my head win. But soon it won’t matter I am ending this soon maybe in the next life I will be happier. *


“Plus I am going cause of family issues something happened with Hope and they think it’s best I go away for a while. just for two weeks,“ I said then took out her letter. ” Here in two days open this letter if I don’t tell you everything that’s going on OK? But you gotta promise me that you won’t tell Jason, I will tell him later on in the day okay.“ She nodded. I wanted to tell her more. Tell her everything but I knew if I did then she would try to convince me not too which wouldn’t help anyone.


“Hey,” said Jason poking my cheek and breaking me from my thoughts. “Huh,” I turn to face then but both of then have confusion written on their face.“Sorry just thinking of when we are going for the trip,” I said acting excited.


“Are you sure?” said Kara death staring me in the eyes and poking my chest. “Yes, Kara I am 100% sure now stop poking me,” I said moving away from her so she nor Jason can poke me. Jason frowns while Kara fake cries. “Oh hey guys,” said Hope as she joins us. We haven’t talked ever since she came into my room last week, which I am grateful for but sadly she decided to hang out with Kara, and Jason. I don’t get how someone can be so fake. She acts like we never had a problem with each other in the first place.*^I do it’s just like how you’re being fake about killing yourself^ Ignoring the voice to best I can I focus on what it in front of me. Jason and Kara are laughing at some joke Hope said. *Jason, kara I am going to miss you two so much but this is for your own good you guys can’t be doing this to you guys, pulling you into my life no point punishing you guys for my sins and mistakes.* I thought.^Yet here you are still in their lives hurry up ^ 


“Yeah I  just a lot on my mind,” I said leaning onto him. Jason, Kara and I always had this kind of relationship. Always caring and supporting each other.  *It doesn’t matter now does it. It’s too later be thinking about that, not like things will get better or something.* I thought as we were about to enter the cafeteria when Kara was called for early dismissal.^finally your thinking like me so why don’t you finish it ^ I felt like another person was in the room whispering this in my ears, but guess what I am falling for it.

I pull Kara in for a hug, not a side hug like I normally do but a full one. I take in her scent as she wraps her arms around me. She smells like strawberries and banana. I felt happy in her arms as her body heat radiates onto me.I felt at peace, nothing could make me mad, or want to cry, the bad thoughts went away. I was at peace and happy, but like all good stuff, it must come to an end  "See you tomorrow,“ she said as we let go then ran off. I felt tears prick my eyes. “Come Canary time food,” Jason puts his arm around me as we went over to the lunch line.^Yeah get your last meal before you pass^ said Voice, might as well give it a name since it will with me till my end.


——————————-Time skip bros end of the school day ———————


I took a deep breath as I walk over to the outside bench with Jason, my crush, behind me. “Hey, are you OK?” He said as he places our stuff down and takes a seat. “ Yeah Just haven’t been getting the best sleep,” I sorta lie.^liar liar death on fire ^


The truth is that I try not to sleep at all and use coffee creamer to stay up planning my end and writing my goodbye letters. Half of my goodbyes are finished. And I already choose the outfit I am going to wear. Just cause I am going to die doesn’t mean I cannot be happy as I do it. But mostly it’s because at night I have nightmares and I wake up screaming which annoys the living hell out of everyone at home, one way to not annoy them is to not sleep ya know.


“So when do you want me to come over for Ms.Greene’s. Project ?”

“Oh right about that—”. ^You can’t cause I am going to kill myself ^ I shake my head trying to get those word out of my head.


“Let me guess I can’t cause of family issues and you cannot come to my house cause Your not allowed out the house for reasons your not telling me,” he said. I felt guilty for leaving him hanging so much lately. We have been best friends since pre-k. We used to play with the building blocks as Marcel would take us to the playground. I sigh as Jason rubs the back of his neck.”What is up with you ever since Kara and I have been hanging out with Hope and you got your leg hurt you have just been so distant


“Look Jason I know I normally tell you everything but honestly. I think I just need some space,” I said. I grew cold with every word I said to him. I am not sure if it was because of the cold but I knew it was most likely for the best. ^You’re going to die soon don’t make it harder for us ^ said Voice in my head.


“So are you still gonna come to my basketball game today after school right?” His eyes lighted. I  wanted to yes so I can see crush the  other team.“ No, I won’t I got to head to the Quarter house,” I said to him. His smile disappears from his face.


“B-but you always come to them so we can have Ice cream,” I take a deep breath .*I wish we could do that forever * I thought as I took his hand in mine  "Look Jason I know we always do that but I can’t this time —“


“Ahh  Y/n there you are.  ” I said Uncle Elijah and Hope. I quickly let go of Jason’s hand and put my hands on my crutches. * shoot I forgot Uncle Elijah was picking me and Hoe I mean Hope up* I thought as Jason picks up his books. I opened my mouth to talk him but he was already walking away. “I will finish Ms.Greene’s  project on my own. let you have some Space,” he spat out the words like daggers then disappeared in the distance between us.


I place my stuff in my backpack, slipped it on and went to Uncle Elijah and Hope beginning our trek to the house.


I pull out my iPod and headphones and start listening to ‘work out’ by j cole. He is one of Jason and I favorite singers. We walked together for thirty-five minutes before Uncle Elijah actually talks to me. Hope is on Uncle Elijah back since she got tired ten minutes ago from walking.

*honestly Uncle Elijah the Little shit can walk on her own  * I thought and continued walking thinking about Jason and I’s relationship if still even have one after today. ^what is there to think about it’s over and you ruined it ^ I felt my heart churn at her voice. *shut it voice*

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

It’s been two hours since we got home and so far, it’s just been Mom and sperm donner yelling at each other about something that is most likely about Hope or some ‘new enemy ’. I sigh as hear another vase slams my door again. *Uncle Elijah going to yell * I thought. At first, when they occurred I was scared out of my mind, but now I am used to it it doesn’t matter.


^Honestly, what is there for me to worry about. I am not gonna be here in the future so I am fine Right? Why don’t you just pick up a knife and slit your throat no one will notice your dead until the deed is done^. I hugged my pillow closer to my chest and pushed the hollow feeling into the back of my mind. I found these thoughts popping up in my head more often lately. Maybe it was bound to happen you know. ^So what are you gonna go^ said the voice.  

I get off of my bed and walk over to my closet, get into my good bye clothes (https://www.polyvore.com/my_good_bye/set?id=215314515), my wonder woman hat on top. I grab my birthday money and Uncle Elijah old phone which he let me have, doesn’t have a sim card but it still works, and the directions to place. I grab the rest of the letters I need to give and put them in my backpack. “Now the major problem getting out of this house,” I said until it finally hit me.


 I took off all of my bed sheets, which were a lot by the way, off from the bed then threw them out the window. I placed them in a way that they fall one on top of another. I took the pillow cases off of my pillows and threw them down as well. I tossed out my crutches. *I Hope I survive * I thought as I balance standing on the edge of the window. I pull the pillows to my chest and do the leap of faith from assassin’s creed, but it was kinda hard to do with my hurt leg. I groan as I hit the ground even though I made a pile it still hurt. I grabbed my crutches and struggled to get off of the blankets. Once that was over, head straight for Rousseau (Marcel and Cami’s bar). By the time I got there Cami’s shift was hadn’t begun yet thankfully. The room was full of people. I was about to take a seat when ” Y/n what are you doing here,“ said Marcel after I nearly have a heart attack. Thou would kill me it’s not the way I want to go.


 “Oh hey Marcel, how are you?” I said giving him a fake smile but I knew he wasn’t falling for it.“Nice try Y/n ” he said as we take a seat at a nearby table. “So mind telling me what you are doing here?” “I wanted to give this to you,” I said taking out the letters for him and Cami. “They are thank you letters for you and Cami. I wasn’t able to give Jason his either so can you give it to him? ,” I place them onto the table and slide it over to him. “I was hoping to see both of you here. but since Cami isn’t here can you please give this to her?” I query.


 He nods his head and takes the letters. I fight the tears and smile that threaten to break my heartless facade, but I couldn’t help but smirk at knowing those who I truly care about knowing how I feel about them. But as soon as it came it went.“So mind telling me what you are doing giving this to me,” he asked. *Oh Uncle Marcel even thou I didn’t say it a lot to you ‘I love you ’ you may not be blood but you are no water* I thought as I give him a smile. “No Uncle Marcel just a simple thank you letter were supposed to write and deliver one to those who you love,” I said getting up from the table and left Rousseau, leaving Marcel alone looking at the letters.


 _________________________time skip arrival death place_______________




“Finally” passing the entrance of the local indoor pool. No one was here other than me. I passed the locker area and went to the pool. *Huh the little shit is about to do it finally. Thought you were gonna plague the world some more. I don’t see why you are here still you made it this far let’s do it shall we* I wanted to fight the voice but I knew it was no choice. The reason I chose the pool was because of it the one place that no one would look for me. 


When I was young Jason and I would come here with Cassandra Winchester sometimes we all would just play on the not deep side of the pool, but we stopped once she left for a mission and never came back. I highly doubt Jason even remembers this place. No one else knows about this place since I never told anyone about it. The light from the water light up the entire room so it wasn’t dark. I didn’t take off my shoes or jewelry since they all had meant something to me. I walk over to the deep side of the pool that was 7ft. “Goodbye life,” I said then dropped into the water. 


The cold temperature pricked my skin but I didn’t let it bother me as I sank to the bottom. My vision was blurry but I wasn’t sure whether it was because of the water or lack of oxygen. I felt my body slowly sink close to the pools floor*Finally this is it. You free now you don’t have to burden others with your presence.* I thought as black spots blur my vision. I suddenly felt more tired than usual. *maybe a good rest* I slowly close my eyes and release the all the air in my lungs as darkness kills me.

_________Third POV at home_______________time past____________ _____________________________________________________________


No one notices how Y/n has jumped from her bedroom window over Klaus’s screaming. Kol rolls his eyes as his brother talks about how high and mighty he now that he is a hybrid. “Dear Brother Niklaus might you please stop screaming before Hope wakes up,” said Elijah Pouring himself a drink of whiskey. “Klaus opens his mouth to say more but nothing comes out. He storms out of the house slamming the door in his rage making Hope stir in her sleep. “Well that was dramatic,” said Hayley walking into the living room with a tea in her hand. “Has anyone ever told you that is how this family works,” said Cami sitting down next to her. “Cami doesn’t your shift start soon,” said Elijah, Cami chokes on her drink then runs out the room to get to work.


 “Mommmmyyyy!!!!!!” Screamed Hope, the Originals immediately run to her side. She was inside her sister’s room with a letter in her hand. Tears ran down her cheeks as Hayley comforts her child. “Hope what’s wrong?“Said, Elijah, while taking the letter out of her hands. He nearly passes out from what he reads.“There is one in everyone’s room” Hope stuttered holding onto her mother. Elijah hands the letter to Kol, who just stared dead at the letter noticing Y/n’s handwriting, Elijah walks out the room and quickly collects all the other letters.


 “Hope what happened?” said Kol trying not to be angry after reading Hope’s letter.


“Y/n is committing suicide,” she said.


 Everyone froze upon hearing this. That one of their loved ones was willing to take their own life and no one knew why or how she would scream in her pillow at night or how she tried not to sleep til the point she naturally has insomnia. “Why would she do that?” Asked Freya. 


“Why wouldn’t she, you always favor Hope more than her. You didn’t even notice that she was kidnapped,” said Kol glaring at him family “Brother do we—” “STOP BLOODY LYING. DO YOU EVEN REMEMBER HER MIDDLE NAME OR THE LAST TIME YOU LET HER CHOOSE FOR HER BIRTHDAY,” screamed Kol. “You ignore her cause she is human. Cause she isn’t as powerful as Hope. Yet you forget that you were once the same as her but at least we had someone who noticed and cared at least we had each other,” said Kol. “Rebekah,” he said pointing to her “ you have been begging for a human in this family and when we finally have one you ignore the girl”. Rebekah opens her mouth but no words come out. 


“Aaahh and the mother,” he said turning to Hayley. “You wondered about how you treated both of them so badly, but guess what you did even worse you only cared for one,” he spats. Hayley glares at Kol but knows deep down is words are completely right. She never once thought about what Y/n would want to do for her birthday or how she would drink coffee in the morning. “You people may not care for her but I do and I won’t let you people be the reason of her death,” said Kol, storming out the house. Everyone one froze upon hearing these words. The thought of Y/n finally ringing in their heads. Hope dries her her eyes and pulls her mom into a hug. 


The despair was too great that you could cut it with a knife. “I will begin a locator spell,” Freya walks out the door with Y/n’s necklace to begin the spell. Rebekah follows silently out of the house. “Elijah w–"Hayley opens her mouth to ask him a question when she already knows the answer. ‘Was Y/n ever treated like Hope’. They all knew the answer is ‘No’. “ Hope honey its time for bed, ” said Hayley.“ Uncle Elijah will look for Y/n and by tomorrow we will have her back I promise she will be back alive,” Hayley pulls hee daughter in for a hug, Elijah leaves the room but not after placing all the remaining letters on Y/n’s desk before leaving. Hope nods her head and gets ready for bed by herself for the first time in her life. Her mother asked if she needed help, but she denied it and continued on her own. "Mommy you should go find Y/n I will be fine,” Hayley nods and follows her request and leaves the house.

carly’s pynch fic rec

basically, i’ve read a lot of fic, some of which i haven’t seen on rec lists on tumblr anywhere and i just thought that had to be remedied so: here we go. ten fics sorted by word count. most of them are multichapter, and rated M or E.

★★★★★144k+ words, rated M, completed

light with a sharpened edge by poetic_leopard aka @winterblues

Adam Parrish works as a sober companion, but he has no idea of the storm that’s soon to hit him when Ronan Lynch turns out to be his newest client. (Or the one where Adam Parrish and Ronan Lynch are trapped underneath the same roof for six weeks.)*Ronan, to his surprise, opened his eyes. For a breathless moment, Adam was transfixed in them. They were the color of the ocean on the most azure of nights, lightning right before it struck the ground, damp hydrangeas on a fog-swept morning. Those eyes gave him chills.

this fic!! solidly one of my favorite fics! (although, i’m only recommending my favorites) ronan is a little more of an asshole than usual, but, it’s an AU so.. it works. the writing in this is lovely and poetic and leaves you hanging off of every word. 

[more recs under the cut]

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i’ve decided that since i read probably way too much fic i’m going to start a huge-ass rec list of my favourites. ones marked with a are my ultimate faves, ones marked with a * are WIPs and i’ve written little notes next to the fics that really left an impression on me. i will be adding to this list as i read new fics! 

categories under the cut: post-canon / canon divergence / AUs / one-shots / PWP

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tips for new uni / college students

i’m just finishing up my first year this summer and i know lots of people are graduating and going into post secondary this semester, so here are my tips on your first year! (im in canada but these should probably be relevant for other countries? i think!) feel free to add your own! (spaces are for accessibility – sorry for the long ass post) 

  • you don’t need to ask to go to the bathroom, or to leave at all. if you’re anxious, or if you need a coffee, just quietly leave without disturbing the other students and come back when you’re ready. try not to leave in an important part of the lecture—you should preferably be doing everything you need to before/after class to avoid leaving and missing information, but this isn’t high school anymore and you can come and go as you wish. (note: if youre working in a lab make sure you follow your prof’s safety procedures around leaving to avoid bringing contaminants out of the lab with you, and do NOT leave in the middle of a test unless given explicit permission by the prof.)
  • i bought a binder for my first year and never used it. i took all my notes in a coil notebook, which is easier to keep track of, and put all handouts in the inside pocket/in a folder which was more than sufficient, since at my school most of the handouts are online anyways. if you’re more comfortable using a binder, definitely use one, but you’re probably better off using a notebook. 
  • you can bring your laptop/tablet to class to write your notes in 99% of classes. if you find typing easier than writing on paper with pen/pencil, then bring it with you - just make sure you have your charger/your laptop is charged, especially if it’s a long class. but try not to get distracted — you’re probably better off sticking to a notebook if you know you’re going to open facebook/tumblr instead of actually taking notes.
  • most professors i’ve taken still don’t appreciate texting in class. some of them don’t care, some will call you out on it. they understand if you have to quickly reply to your mom or something (or take a phone call outside of class) but if every time they look up you’re blatantly staring at your phone (or your crotch lol we all know the trying to hide ur phone under ur desk phone) they’ll probably be less inclined to help you later when you ask questions because you were too busy not paying attention 
  • write your name, phone number and school e-mail in the front of your notebook / on a label on your laptop. losing an entire semester’s worth of notes would be a NIGHTMARE and you want to make it as easy as possible for anyone who finds your stuff to return it to you. 
  • before you buy your textbook from your bookstore, check facebook to see if your school has a book exchange page and try to find someone you can buy it from second hand. it will be cheaper. 
  • if you can, buy your books used from the bookstore. renting is cheaper than buying — the buy back price at the end of the semester will be drastically reduced from what your purchased it at.
  • get familiar with the services at your school. check out the pride center and women’s center if you have one, join a club, and find a community. you’ll have a lot more fun at university if you find your niche and people who share your interests. they don’t have to be your lifetime best friends, but it’s nice to have a place to go and chat with an acquaintance during long breaks between classes.
  • use google docs or a similar cloud-based service. not having to haul your essays around on a USB is so much more convenient, and with your work stored in the cloud you won’t have any risk of it not saving or being corrupted. 
  • plagiarism is such a big no. your profs will remind you, but if you think you can get away with it, you can. plagiarism gives you what is essentially an academic criminal record and NO ONE in your faculty wants to deal with it, so just do your work okay?? trust me the consequences are way worse than just sitting down and writing the paper, no matter how awful it is
  • on the first day, if you HATE a class or the prof, drop it. add/drop deadlines are serious business 
  • if you have a few different choices for which prof to pick, check ratemyprofessor before choosing (but remember to take things with a grain of salt – they are reviews written by real people)

post-secondary is an amazing opportunity and as much as student loans and the emotional stress are hard, it can also be an incredible and fascinating experience. don’t worry too much about “finding your purpose” and take advantage of the wealth of knowledge your professors and teachers will present to you. good luck to all of you and i hope you have a wonderful time!! 

Send To All

Originally posted by ohstylesno

Requested by anonymous:

“hey there! I don’t know if you’re still doing 1D requests but I was wondering if I could request a Harry Styles imagine?? idk if you know of it but there’s a comedian called michael mcintyre who has a chat show and he has a segment called ‘send to all’ where he sends a mass text from the guests phone and reads the replies - anyways I was wondering if you could do a request where the reader is a celebrity and secretly dating Harry and their relationship gets exposed or something through this?? xx”

Warnings: None?? tiny bit of language and fluff I suppose

Notes: This gif has no relevance it just fucking kills me omg (also I’m so excited to write for harry eek)


“Good luck love, I know you’ll be amazing as always. Thinking of you and can’t wait to finally hold you in my arms tomorrow. H x” 

You felt your heart constrict and a buzz fill your body, a smile tugging up on your lips as your eyes scanned over the text your boyfriend had just sent you. Your thumbs hovered anxiously over the keyboard as you mulled over what you should reply with. You had just decided on replying with words teasing him about how he signed his texts just like his tweets when you were interrupted. 

“*yn*, we’re ready for you.” 

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anonymous asked:

Can you do a companions react to the Inquisitor being Autistic? Especially Cole?

I (Mod Sarah) am autistic, so I was very pleased to see this request. That being said, autism is a wide-reaching term for an entire spectrum of symptoms that affect people differently– every autistic person is unique, and each has their own quirks and symptoms. I feel that companion responses would vary, depending on what symptoms and behaviors the Inquisitor in question is displaying. For the sake of simplicity, I will be basing this autistic Inquisitor off of my own unique brand of autism, finely aged and diagnosed for the last ten years. Let’s get this show on the road.

Cassandra: Their behavior confounds her, at least at first. They avoid eye contact like the plague, can have intense reactions to stimuli, such as loud noises like explosions upset them with ease. She at first thought they were just being childish, but eventually realizes they’re genuinely hypersensitive to certain things. She guesses that they’re not exactly neurotypical, judging by behavior, and tries to be more receptive to their needs and sensitivities after finding out they’re innocent. It doesn’t particularly bother her that they fidget and stim and avoid eye contact, or even sometimes speak too loudly or too quietly– so long as they’re honest and good at heart. Iron Bull later on describes a mental condition known to the Qun that’s akin to autism and other development disorders, and she agrees that they likely are autistic. If Romanced: He likes just lying by her side, citing the same poems he knows by heart, staring up at the sky with her. She’s smiling, too, as she listens, knowing the poem by heart from repeated recitations as she holds his hand and looks up at the world beyond, so long as they’re there for each other.

Iron Bull: He’s met people like them. He figures it out after observing them, and he adapts accordingly. The Qun values people like them, especially if they have special interests, which are encouraged and honed for special jobs as adults. As a result, he respects them more at first. He accommodates them, and never asks them why they avoid eye contact or fidget or stim in any way. He informs the others what he thinks is different about them, and that’s about it. The man is also good at figuring out what they mean when they speak somewhat disorderly, as if words got jumbled before coming out, and often clarifies for the others. He’s a big source of help during the Winter Palace, getting them out of sight and letting them calm down or stim when overwhelmed. If Romanced: Sex with him is somewhat specialized, but fantastic– he figures out what they do and don’t like, and he works with it. Sometimes they just lay side-by-side, while he massages their muscles in just the way they like it, whispering sweet words of comfort at just the right tone for them, repeated and quiet.

Blackwall: He’s never encountered someone like them, so he thought, until Bull tells him that he likely has but never noticed. He’s not really sure how to go about them, so he just decides he’ll take it in stride and work with them. It works well, and they’re comfortable with each other. After he’s revealed to be Thom Rainier, they actually get over it pretty fast, regarding what he did as a Bad Thing, but he’s trying to make up for it, which they accept. If Romanced: He’s more worried than usual about going into romance with them, because he’s worried that if and when they find out who he is, she’ll have a meltdown, she’ll refuse to even look at him, what have you. He doesn’t want to break her heart. When the time comes, she’s having a meltdown, but not because of who he is– but because he’s in jail, and she desperately wants him to come home. When he finally does, he gets a scolding, but she forgives him. He decides that his new mission in life is making her safe and happy, like she made him.

Sera: She doesn’t care in the least– in fact, she likes it. She sort of relates to them, actually– to the point where she starts wondering if she’s autistic at all. She gives them all sorts of things and textures to fiddle with. She speaks at a level that doesn’t upset them (while she enjoys yelling and cheering and howling with laughter, she’ll take it down a notch for their sake) and will viciously prank anyone who gives them shit for their quirks. “It’s not like they can help it. It’s just who they are, and anyone who says otherwise can knob it.” If Romanced: The romance proceeds mostly like normal, though she doesn’t start yelling at her in the culminate scene when describing her nightmare, because she knows it will upset her. Instead, she avoids her, frustrated and trying to figure out how to describe what’s going on, and opts for writing it down. The Herald reads it, looks up at her, and frowns. “But I love you,” the she says, sounding a little hurt, “I’m sorry about the dream, but dreams are dreams. They don’t have to come true. I just want to be with you.” Sera’s heart melts, and tackles her with a kiss.

Varric: He’s very understanding and unfazed by their quirks, and isn’t surprised when Bull mentions they’re probably autistic. He just works with it, with who they are, and treats them like people, not just a weirdo. “So what if you’re a little different? That’s what makes you who you are, and you’re fine.” They like listening to him tell stories– his voice is nice and even and calm, which calms them down. Often they ask for the same few stories they like again and again, but Varric doesn’t mind– he’s happy to have an enraptured audience. He also suggests to them trying to write to get their thoughts out, to express themselves, and it helps.

Cole: He is of a LOT of help to the Inquisitor. He’s good at voicing how they’re feeling or what they’re thinking if they’re incapable in any way of doing so, as well as getting them things they need but don’t vocalize that they need. “They’re a little different in the way their thoughts work, but they think of new and wonderful things that most can’t. They are good the way they are.” He protests whenever they have to mask how they actually act, citing it as stressing them out and exhausting. He also knows exactly what textures, sounds, and tastes they do or don’t like, often bringing them things for stimming to calm them down or steering them away from offending stimuli, such as excessively bright lights or noise. If they have a special interest(s), he happily listens to them info-dump without getting remotely bored– it makes the Herald so happy, which makes him happy.

Vivienne: She was a little off-put by how they acted in her chateau at first, but she starts suspecting something isn’t normal about them aside from the mark. When Bull explains the disorder to her, she does research and quickly comes to agree with the diagnosis. She’s significantly more patient with them as a result, and she tries to coach them on talking to people. “Unfortunately for you, eye contact is a standard of Orlesian society,” she says, “if this is too difficult for you, try focusing your attention on a nose or intricate part of the mask. They’ll never tell the difference.” When it comes to fidgeting, she actually gets them a notebook and fancy quill, and advises them to play with the quill against the notebook when at parties– Orlesians will just think they’re working and admire it, while they can stim to some extent. She recognizes it’s part of who they are, and must be worked with instead of covered up.

Dorian: They get frustrated easily with social interaction, and if they recruit the mages, practically the whole time spent in future Redcliffe is them trying to not have a meltdown or sensory overload. He tries his best to keep them as calm as possible, but begins to think that maybe there’s more going on with them than just panic at their situation. Bull explains what he thinks is up with them, and Dorian buries himself in whatever information he can get about the disorder. He gets good at calming them down and using certain spells to numb certain sensations or noises, which greatly reduces their stress levels. If Romanced: He cringes, at first, when the Herald bluntly tells anyone who asks that he’s his boyfriend. They don’t understand at all why it should be hidden in any regard, and Dorian tries to explain his discomfort, or at least plans to– until he sees him positively glowing with joy and pride as he talks about him, and Dorian smiles and reconsiders. He really does love him, and Dorian knows it– and loves him back.

Solas: He’s seen memories of people somewhat like them in the Fade, being social outcasts, misunderstood and called stupid when they were anything but. He won’t treat them like that, and he strives to understand them and their disability to the best of his ability. If they don’t mind, he asks a lot of questions about how they feel and think. Often he listens to them info-dump about their special interest, if they have one, and sometimes they get embarrassed. He just encourages them to go on. If Romanced: Assuming Lavellan has a special interest of some sort, he starts taking her into the Fade, showing her old memories of anything related to what she’s interested in. He listens to her talk, happy and excited, and she thanks him with a kiss. “Ma serannas, ma vhenan!” she squeals. “No, I am the one who should be thanking you, Vhenan.” he replies with a chuckle and another kiss, soft and sweet.

Josephine: She notices their lack of tolerance for eye contact before any other symptoms, and while initially worried she did something wrong, the others explain the Herald’s unorthodox behaviors and tics. She, along with Vivienne, tries her best to coach them on talking and interacting with others. It’s not without hard work and tears and meltdowns on the Herald’s part, but they have relatively smooth sailing in the Winter Palace with their hard work. They’re absolutely exhausted after trying to act neurotypical, and she always feels so bad for them and tries to compensate them with something they like. She also cringes at their awful handwriting– it looks like chicken scratch on steroids– and figures out it’s due to poor eye-hand coordination. She also spends a lot of time trying to remedy this, even considering hiring a scribe to help them. If Romanced: They like listening to her just talk about her day, sometimes asking her to repeat stories again and again, old and new. They cuddle on the couch before the fireplace in their room while they cuddle, and Josephine is full of bliss.

Leliana: She’s unfazed by their unusual behavior and tics, and is remarkably patient with them. She likes it when they don’t hide it, because she can tell how they’re actually feeling and thinking most of the time when they don’t mask themselves. She sometimes gives them raven feathers that have fallen to the ground to the Herald for them to run their fingers along the smooth texture, which pleases them. It always brings a smile to her face to see them relax, even a little.

Cullen: You meet all sorts of people in the Circle, and autistic mages (and the occasional templar) were among them. He’s receptive to their sensitivities and needs, and accommodates them without complaint or so much as a second thought. He takes it all in stride, knowing that’s just how they are. When Bull tells him about autism, he just nods. “That explains a lot about a lot of different mages I’ve met over the years.” he remarks. If Romanced: She likes running her fingers through his hair, a sort of stim in and of itself, and he tolerates it, listening to her hum and chatter about the day’s events.

the slut and the falcon(s) - Jughead Jones and Archie Andrews

little disclaimer:


this is for @mrsjugheadjonesthethird ’s writing contest! i really like their work and stuff and i also kind of really wanna get noticed with my own work, and what better way than to do this? even if i probably will not win, it’s worth a shot


prompt: ‘fuckin’ veronica, man, always listening in on archie and jug’s conversations.’

word count: 3,152


another little disclaimer: jughead still goes to Riverdale, and he’s in the Southside Serpents


warnings: swearing, A LOT OF SIN, like dominant ass fucking archie and jughead, some drug use (just weed), a threesome with archie and jughead, spoilers! etc. (and some vague jealous jughead)


and, god.. this has.. daddykink.. i’m such a slut..


AND LOWKEY, ARCHIE IS A VOYEUR


I HATE MYSELF


-


It’s quite early to be having full fledged conversations, especially at Riverdale High. It’s supposed to be all zen and whatever, and yet, it is seemingly the complete opposite of zen. Especially when you grab your notebook and your folder and close your locker, only to be faced by nobody other than Veronica Lodge, her face glowing with excitement, and you think, how can someone possibly be this jovial at seven in the morning? “Yes?” You greet her anyway, yawning.


“Alright. So I’m walking down the West wing, right? And of course, I see this bitch Cheryl, and she’s talking to me about the dumb River Vixens and I’m like half paying attention. It’s right near her locker and Archie and Jughead are standing there talking about something but I can’t tell what, right? So I switch spots with Cheryl and she keeps babbling on about something irrelevant, and then I hear Archie talking about how they both think you’re hot and I’m like ‘woah’, and Jughead is like talking to him about all of the shit he would do to you if you were together. It honestly was hot as fuck. So Jughead’s going on about how he wants to fuck you -”


You stopped her right there.


The Jughead Jones wanted to do that with you? You, the co-captain of the River Vixens? Southside Serpents Jughead Jones? The once passive aggressive but is now a complete bad boy Jughead Jones? That one? Fuck Archie, man, that was all Betty’s. But Jug? It couldn’t be. “I feel as if this story is fake..” You chuckle and cock a brow at her. “But it was a good laugh. You got me.”


“Then tell me, (Y/N), if I was joking, why would Jughead be eyeing the fuck out of your ass in that skirt right now?”


You widened your eyes and whipped your head around, and sure enough, Jughead is slumped up against the lockers with a cigarette inbetween his white teeth, smoke flowing out through his puffy, perfect lips. Immediately, you turn red, your heart literally dropping into your stomach. He notices you staring at him and he quickly takes another drag of his ‘cancer stick’, before walking off, completely unashamed.


You had always been a good girl. Perfect grades, perfect attendance, perfect record, perfect life, in a nutshell. You had known Jughead, since, what, last year, maybe? The beginning of this year? Point is, mama always told you not to be with his type. But ever since you’d met this particular boy, you could not stop thinking about him. He was so intriguing and your heart throbbed whenever you saw him.


And sure, you had hung out, but it was mostly at Pop’s, which isn’t even a one on one thing. It involves you, him, Veronica, Betty, Archie, and maybe Kevin. Every sincle time you would be around him things would seem different.


Jughead was another story. He was sent to juvie at the mere age of ten for trying to burn his elementary school down, which was, in fact, false. He was bullied severely by assholes like Jason Blossom, and basically, the entire football team, the only exception being Archie. He’s never had a birthday party because he claims his family makes it this arbitrary day and they pretend to act like everything’s okay, when really, they are not. It made him lonely. His mother moved away with his sister, Jellybean, and he was sent to a foster family on the Southside, - his father, FP Jones, is in jail for covering up the murder of Jason Blossom - and god knows why he still makes the effort to come to Riverdale everyday. All in all, he’s lived a fucked up life. Inside, you knew there was a huge teddy bear that honestly needed a hug, but on the outside, all that really called to you was his image. He was so hot and you hated yourself for thinking so.


“Hey - (Y/N)? Earth to (Y/N)!” Veronica was snapping in your face, and it took moments for you to realize what was going on, and that the bell had just rung. Jughead had dissapeared, and you were left with confusion, and slightly damp panties, but it was alright. Shit happens.


You shook your head and nodded quickly, looking over at her. “Sorry! I’ve got to go to class, Vee. I’ll catch you later?” Before she could reply you rushed off to your first period class, which was Social Studies - you had it with Jughead, that you knew.


-


Social Studies is an actual nightmare.


It starts off with Jughead sitting right next to you this time. Your teacher is neglectful enough to not care, and while teaching, Jughead keeps biting his lip and eyeing your thighs, which are not covered by anything but the cloth of your cheer uniform’s skirt. You’re trying hard to pay attention, taking notes and tapping your foot on the ground.


The thing about these desks that you’re in right now is that they are close, and all the way in the back of the room. So, inevitably, Jughead’s gonna do what he wants to you, as long as you’re okay with it. About halfway through the class, there’s a note passed to you, and you open it.


‘archie told me to do this to you. -j’


You’re even more confused, but before you can speak, Jughead’s hand is on your thigh.


Your fucking thigh.


You tense up immediately and widen your eyes, covering your mouth in order to contain a gasp. Oh my god, this is really happening. It’s really fucking happening, in the middle of Social Studies, at exactly 7:34 in the morning. Jughead’s hand is squeezing, rubbing, massaging at your skin. His hand grazes your panties and you look down, grabbing his wrist in a quick but gentle motion.


'not here. are you insane?’ Says the note that you pass back to him.


Jughead just smirks and pulls his hand away after reading it, clearing his throat.


-


At Lunch, it’s you, Archie, Betty, Veronica, Kevin, and Jughead. You’ve made the stupid mistake to sit next to him, and Veronica is smirking at you from across the table. It’s all so tense.


You continue to think about what happened in Social Studies and get quite squirmish in your seat, Veronica glaring at you with a knowing look on her face. “Is there something wrong, (Y/N)?” She asks, raising her brows at Jughead, who was locked into his laptop, fingers typing away, completely ignoring the discarded lunch beside him.


“Huh?” You snap out of your Jughead filled trance, and boy, was it a good trance. “Oh.. no! No, nothing’s wrong. Just thinking about that big Social Studies test coming up.”


“Is that the only thing coming in Social Studies?” Veronica purrs, causing Jughead to look up at her, his face turning pink, completely throwing his bad boy aura off.


“Veronica!” You gasp, your eyes widening with surprise. “Wh - How do you even know about that?” You break into a whisper, leaning over the table to talk to her better without anyone hearing.


“Jug told me, he figured out that I listened in on he and Archie’s convo, and he practically spilled out every naughty, sinful thing he’s ever wanted to do to you. It was quite hot, actually. You’re lucky.” She gushed, flashing a smile to Archie, who was invested in Betty at the moment, apologizing to her for some unknown reason.


You shook your head and sat back, continuing lunch in a calm silence, your thoughts filled with images of Jughead.


-


After school lets out, you and the rest of your group head out to Pop’s, an annual tradition for the five of you. You’re sitting next to Jughead, across from Archie, Betty, and Veronica.


Betty has her head turned with annoyance, and Archie has yet to redeem himself for whatever he’s done. Veronica is sipping lightly at a double chocolate milkshake, and Jughead is still stuck in his god damn laptop.


It’s really not fair, the way he can look so gorgeous while being nonchalant. It makes you tingle, and you still can’t believe that he wants you.


There are a couple of jocks at the table next to yours, and they’re whistling at you, calling your name and shit like that, and Jughead notices this. He grunts and immediately sets his hand on your thigh, which is visible to everyone. You squeak and smile at them, turning to Jughead. “Right now?” You whisper.


He doesn’t say anything and watches the boys leave, scowling at him and rolling their eyes. You shrug, laying back and closing your eyes.


After a few minutes of calming down, you feel a hand back on your thigh, which surprises you, causing you to open your eyes.


You soon realize that it’s Jug again, your breath hitching. Betty asks you what’s wrong, and you just shake your head, knowing about her tragic, inevitable crush on Jughead, closing your eyes once more.


Jughead chuckles quietly and lets his hand travel up into your skirt, squeezing at your skin gently. His fingers trace shapes into your hipbone and you try your hardest not to make any noise. He’s not making anything noticeable, just typing more paragraphs into whatever he was writing with one hand.


You tried so fucking hard not to do anything. And this is just the beginning. Jughead’s hand is in your panties now and beginning to explore what’s underneath, his fingers moving in a way that has you feeling like you want to melt.


Betty and Veronica don’t notice, but Archie does.


His facial expression turns from regretful to interested in a minute, and you see this, because you’ve opened your eyes yet again, laying your head on Jughead’s shoulder and nuzzling it, thighs clenching around his hand.


“You know, Jug,” Archie begins to say, “I don’t think (Y/N) is feeling too good. Should we take her home, or?”


“I think that’s a great idea,” Jughead replies quickly, his hand immediately slipping out of your underwear, causing you to sigh with frustration. “Betty, Veronica, you wouldn’t mind. Would you?”


“Well, yes -” Betty starts.


“No! Not at all!” Veronica then quickly interrupts her, nudging her side and letting the three of you escape the tiny booth. “Have fun. Feel better, (Y/N). Text me later.”


Betty growls with discontent and rolls her eyes, sitting back with her arms crossed, and you can practically feel how angry she is.


You fake a cough and let the boys take you by each arm, their grips firm and wanting.


You shiver.


Fuck.


-


(okay i cannot wait for the sin anymore, we’re getting right to it. listen to Believer by Imagine Dragons if you really wanna get the vibe)


It starts off with them taking you home, slamming the door and escorting you to your room, to where Archie locked the door, and Jughead picked you up, pinning you to the wall.


You cried out when Archie began sliding your skirt down, getting to his knees and kissing at your thighs, while Jughead was working on giving you hickeys on your neck and collarbone, his thumb rubbing your chin. Your toes curled and you whimpered, gasping occasionally.


“Oh, fuck, I - I -”


“You what?” Jughead huffed, flipping your shirt off. “Get on the bed. Go.”


Strangely, the urge to obey him overcame you. Archie finished taking the rest of your clothes off, not bothering to tease you. You jumped onto the bed and layed down, Archie removing his shirt.


Jughead licked his lips and grabbed your hips, dragging you over to him. “Arch, do whatever you want.”


Archie did just that, leaning down and licking a stripe up your aching cunt, releasing a much needed moan from you. He smirked at the reaction, beginning to eat you out, while Jughead kissed at your chest, taking one of your rosy buds into his mouth and sucking.


“Ngh -”


And something in you just snapped, your submissive side coming into play so quick into the moment.


“Daddy, Daddy -” You whimper, squirming underneath the both of them.


They both stopped, Jughead’s eyebrows raising as he pulled away from you, his hand roughly grabbing your chin, thumb slowly grazing over your lower lip. “What was that, slut?”


“Daddy,” You gasp out. “Please, I need more.”


“Oh, this is fucking precious. Captain of the River Vixens, innocent, Miss Perfect, has a daddy kink? Who would’ve fuckin’ thought?” He replies, feeling himself harden even more.


Archie chuckled and went back to what he was doing, smacking your thigh and sliding two fingers into you.


“God, I bet you love to get fucked. Hm?” Jughead continued, curling his hand around your throat lightly. “Tell me. Tell me you love to get fucked.”


“I love to get fucked,” You sob out, your hole clenching around Archie’s fingers, which spread out so he could add his tongue into the mix. “I l - love to get fucked, Daddy, please..”


This is the most fun Jughead has had in a while. He’s grinning, fucking enjoying how submissive you are in this moment. It’s amazing and he knows that you’re all his, partially Archie’s. This is a great opportunity to do everything he’s ever wanted to you. “Yeah?” He leaves his thoughts. “Do you want Daddy to fuck you?”


“Yes!” You felt your eyes start to well up with tears, legs spread for whatever would come your way. “Please!”


Jughead unbuckled his belt and set it down on the bed, slowly taking his jeans off, revealing his very satisfying bulge in his boxers, his shirt coming off as well. You noticed that his body had many bruises and scars but didn’t ask, because aside from that, he was fit, and not ugly at all.


Archie whispered something to him and they switched places, Jughead grabbing his jeans for a moment and pulling a condom out - he had come prepared. He lined himself up after sliding it on, teasing himself at your entrance.


You whimpered and felt Archie bite at your collarbones, which made you melt in all the right ways, completely vulnerable in his touch. Jughead began to slowly push in, causing you to gasp and throw your head back. “Oh - Daddy!”


“Good girl..” He purred quietly, spiraling his hips again, getting himself prepared before all but slamming into you, not waiting to go slow.


You felt literal tears rolling down your cheeks because of how good it felt, your hand curling in Archie’s hair, the other wrapping it’s fingers around his length, stroking furiously.


Archie moaned gently into your ear, moving his hand down to rub at your clit while Jughead mercilessly fucked you, biting his lip.


You spread your legs out more and bucked up, watching Archie move and place his cock on your mouth. “Suck,” He ordered, and you complied, opening your mouth and feeling him move in, completely humiliated at how much you were enjoying this. “Good girl..” He muttered, “Come on.”

You gave him what he wanted, immediately bobbing your head the best you could with the position you were in, your entire body on fire in this moment. Your tongue grazed the vein on the underside of Archie’s member, and he grunted, gripping your hair.


It’s been about fifteen minutes, and Jughead was pounding into you so hard that you were sure you were going to feel it the next day. He was moaning loudly at this point, his breathing uneven and harsh. “I’m so close,” He panted. “Holy fuck, Archie, she’s so good..”


Archie pulled you off of his cock and stroked himself, nodding. “She really is, Jug. Oh, my god, I’m gonna cum. You’re such a good girl, (Y/N), aren’t you? Look at me. Stick your tongue out.”


You obeyed him and clenched around Jughead, whining out in desperation. “Daddy - fuck, Daddy, I’m so close, yeah..”


Archie was very vocal when he came, hot spurts of him streaking out onto your cheek and your tongue, and you got as much of it into your mouth as you could, gasping. “Mm!”


Jughead, who’s noises should have been fucking illegal because they were so hot, came at the exact same time, his whine broken and amazing as he threw his head back and spilled into the condom, his hips jerking even closer into you. “Fuck - (Y/N)..”


And finally, you came, which was very rare because guys were never good enough. Your legs wrapped around Jughead’s lower body as you arched your back, taking in a deep breath, “Daddy -! Fuuuck..”


The three of you layed there for god knows how long, just breathing heavily and calming down. It was all so intense.


“(Y/N)..” Jughead murmurs, pulling out and cleaning himself up, tossing the condom into a nearby wastebin in your room. “Do you smoke?”


“I have before, why?” You reply.


“Can we do that? Right now? It would be such a good way to end the night, babe.” Jughead asks, going through your drawers, grabbing a small gram of what seemed to be marijuana, which was conveniently set next to a unopened pack of the paper for blunts.


You nod, smiling and quickly rolling three joints up, grabbing a lighter from your night stand.


And then, you smoked, it took a while to finish completely, but after you did, you were high, and cuddling Jughead, in the best fucking mood ever. Archie was snoring on the other side of the bed, and honestly, you wouldn’t have this day any other way.


Jughead slipped his serpent jacket on and blew some smoke into your face, giggling and wrapping an arm around you to pull you closer. “You were really good.” He told you, licking his lips. “Like, really good. And I rarely ever tell anyone that.”


“Thank you..” You cooed, kissing at his jaw. “I’m gonna give you a bunch of hickeys for everyone to see tomorrow.”


And that you did.


-


The next day at school, Archie and Jughead are clinging to you. They sit next to you in class, in the courtyard, at your locker, and at lunch. Jughead is littered in hickeys and you kind of love it.


Every girl is jealous of you in this moment, especially when they see you get fucking escorted to class by both of them, and you realize just how lucky you are.


“Okay - we’ll see you at Pop’s?” Archie asks at the end of the day, running a hand through his soft hair.


“Yeah, definitely.”


“Okay, good. Jughead, are you gonna go with her?”


Jughead nods and grabs your hand, pecking it. The gesture is sweet and you feel your heart start to warm up, a blush coming up to greet your cheeks. You giggle uncontrollably, and look over at him. Jughead says his goodbyes to Archie, and then squeezes your hand. “You ready, doll?”


“Yes,” You laugh. “Daddy.”


-


god this took me like a WEEK AND A HALF to finish oh my fucking god hey hi i’m sorry i am LATE but i really put a lot of effort into making this good! i love u all and honestly i’m not even gonna try with a/n’s anymore


but if u enjoyed this like repost comment follow u know the drill


I LOVE U


until then,


tchao~

Professor Kwon: Chapter III

Genre: Teacher AU, Smut, Fluff, Angst.

Word Count: 3,460

Chapter: 3/?

Pairing: G-Dragon x Reader

Warnings: Once again, there won’t be any until like the 4th chapter ;)) Please hold on until then bbs.

Originally posted by fantastic--babies

“You know Y/N, I must admit you’re improving. It appears my warning has gotten through that dull head of yours”, Mr. Kwon paced back and forth slowly in front of my desk as he spoke.

“With all due respect sir, I do believe my head is not dull and that I am improving at my own will. Not because you told me to do so,” I bit back.

Bang!

Suddenly, Mr. Kwon’s hands slammed down on the surface of the wooden desk. His body lurched forward slightly and his gaze captured my own.

“What? Just because you wrote one decent paper, you think you have the power to question my authority?” he glowered at me and I shivered with a sickening mixture of anger and annoyance. “You will have to do a lot more than whine about your autonomy before I think of you as anything more than a subpar student”.

Keep reading

Painting meatballs

For @copperbadge: Sounds like you could use some cheering up this week. :) 


Most days, being a superhero did not pay off. He’d been chased through probably twenty miles of tunnel, managed to drop his last nine arrows down an open manhole (who just leaves manholes open?), and it was only by the grace of his fingertips that he hadn’t gone down after them. He’d forgotten to go grocery shopping, he had a headache from somewhere south of hell, and he was almost hungry enough to share a bowl of Kibbles ‘N’ Bits with Lucky and call it a night.

“Happy freaking birthday to me,” he grumbled as he trudged up the stairs to his apartment. By the time he realized that his keys had apparently gone the way of the arrows, he didn’t even have enough frustration left in him to swear. He dropped his head forward, hitting the door about ten million times harder than he’d meant to, and jerked away with both hands over his forehead.

He definitely didn’t think anyone could blame him for being a tiny bit slow to react when his apartment door opened by itself, but he did manage to have a knife up by the time the interloper leaned around the doorway.

Natasha quirked an eyebrow at him. “Is that a sharpened butter knife?”

Clint glowered at her and slid the blade back into his boot – one of only three, but his count, that hadn’t ended up buried in some guy’s thigh, or washed away in Shit River. “I had to improvise,” he defended. “Why are you in my apartment?”

The other eyebrow quirked up to join the first. “Why are you not in your apartment? Also, you smell like sewage.”

“Long story.”

She tipped her head to the left to examine him, and maybe he was projecting or something else that the group home counselor would have said was unhealthy, but he was positive she could see right through the smarting mark on his head and read his mind. Without a word, she stepped back to hold the door open and gestured inside with one hand.

“I’ll get you a beer.”

“Don’t have any,” Clint muttered. He had about half a bottle of Nat’s shitty vodka somewhere, though he’d used the whiskey for antiseptic the week before.

“Good thing Jan knows how to throw a party,” she said. Her smile softened slightly and she gestured in again. “Though Tony thought jumping out and yelling ‘surprise’ was a smart idea for all of twenty-two seconds.”

Clint shuddered just imagining the heart attack he would have had if he’d opened the door and yelling had been the result. He was suddenly grateful that he’d lost his keys – he’d forgotten all about Stark’s threatened birthday party, and he was more than a little surprised that everyone else had apparently remembered. Now that he was paying attention like an ex-assassin and current masked superhero with poor apartment security and lots of enemies should be, he could hear the faint chatter of about half a dozen people and the subtle clinking of forks on plates.

He glanced at the door and then over to the elevator. “Maybe I should just go get some chips or something.”

Natasha shrugged. “If you want. But your meatballs will probably be cold by the time you get back.”

Clint’s stomach emitted a loud snarl, and his mouth instantly flooded with saliva. Nat might have been kinder than most people gave her credit for, but she still laughed at him as he stood rooted to the spot, doing a good impression of a meatball-zombie. 

“Please tell me they’re not those bullshit fancy meatless-meatballs or whatever Pepper had A Thing about,” he begged.

“Nope, they’re the cheap frozen meatballs you get out of a bag and dump in the oven.”

He could have kissed her. He definitely did moan, “My favorite.”

His apartment had been cleaned, and it smelled like Pinesol and sweet sweet processed meatballs fresh from the oven. Every lamp he owned had been moved into the living room, which had apparently not been enough, because there was an Iron Man suit standing in the corner and glowing like a six-and-a-half-foot art deco lamp.

“Surprise?” Tony offered, from the kitchen, and Holy Patron Saint of I’m never letting you live this down, was wearing a bright yellow apron liberally splashed with hearts and smiling sunflowers, a matching pair of oven mitts, and a lime green party hat.

“Why are you like this?” Clint blurted out with a laugh.

“Laugh all you want,” Tony said, setting down a tray of freshly cooked previously frozen guaranteed delicious meatballs so he could point at Clint with one bemittened hand. His eyes transferred over Clint’s shoulder and he nodded faintly. “But I’m leaving this here when I go. You can thank Jan.”

“Happy birthday!” Jan said as soon as Clint turned to face her, looking like she was ready to burst. “I really want to hug you, but you have been out doing things that got you a little too close to a sewer. Air hug!” She announced and crossed her arms over her own chest, squeezing hard and twisting side-to-side.

It looked like a really nice hug, and Clint was even sorrier about the damned sewer. He looked between his bathroom door and the piles of warm meatballs, and made a noise that he normally would have blamed on Lucky, but Lucky was on his back in the middle of the living room, shamelessly soaking up the belly rubs from Thor and getting his muzzle petted by Steve.

Natasha pushed past him to the kitchen, piled a dozen meatballs on a purple plate with the Hawkeye symbol stamped in the middle, and nudged him away with one finger. “They should be cooled down by the time you wash your hands. Go!”

Clint eagerly took the plate, leaned over, and lipped one of the meatballs right off the top. He tried to smirk at her, but was too busy sucking air in around the molten mouthful as she pushed him toward his bedroom.

~*~

Despite orders to the contrary, Clint had devoured the plate of meatballs before his shower, and he felt less likely to gnaw someone’s arm off by the time he made it back to the living room. A long folding table had been wedged between the couch and the bar, and it looked like Jan had dumped the entire Hawkeye section of Party City on top of it. It was cheesy, and stupid, and perfect. He stood in the doorway for a second to just look it over – they were all pretending that he wasn’t staring at them, and that was what good friends were for when you just got off of a Hell Week leading into Nightmare Night. Lucky was up on his back legs so he could have his front paw on Tony’s lap and was doing his damndest to get at the mountain of meatballs in the center of the table.

“I’m not feeding you,” Tony told the dog seriously, but his hand was wrapped around Lucky’s ribs to rub at his belly. “Seriously, have I ever fed a single thing in your entire life? Why don’t you go to climb in Steve’s lap? He’s a dog person, and I know for sure that he’s fed you at least once tonight.”

“That was just a treat, Tony,” Steve protested.

“He said the word treat,” Tony told Lucky, which just got him a messy kiss across the cheek and Tony leaning comically sideways in the chair to in a vain attempt to avoid it.

“Just push him away,” Clint suggested, stepping into the living room and climbing over the couch to get the open chair.

Tony gave him a frankly scandalized look, but turned back to Lucky to say, “You’re not getting anywhere with this. I am immune to canine flattery.”

“Not all canine flattery,” Natasha muttered, and for some unfathomable reason, Steve blushed and kicked her under the table. Natasha neatly dodged, and held an open beer out for Clint, so cold that it had mist curling out of the neck and droplets running down the sides.

“I love you,” Clint told her very seriously.

“I know,” she answered.

He swallowed about half of it before pressing the cold bottle gently to his forehead and rolling it back and forth. This was the life – why did he not have a million roommates again? He set the bottle aside and looked down to realize that what he’d mistaken for plates were actually large plastic painter’s pallets with little cups of “paint” set around the edges. There was a bright purple cup of paintbrushes sitting opposite his beer, and a stack of napkins with the Avengers Assemble cartoon Hawkeye at his elbow.

Jan leaned forward to explain, but Clint just shoved his finger in the yellow paint and licked it off – spicy mustard, the kind he got at Chinese restaurants and poured over everything.

“Or you could just do that,” Jan finished, laughing. “It was Steve’s idea.”

“This,” Clint said, snagging a meatball off the pile and a paintbrush, “Is the best birthday idea ever.”

Jan nudged Tony, who was still not-really fending off Lucky’s affectionate begging. “And you wanted to bring wine,” she scoffed.

Clint had three painted meatballs stuffed in his mouth when Jan climbed out of her chair and wrapped her arms around his shoulders. She leaned over to press their cheeks together and squeezed hard, rocking him gently side-to-side.

“Happy birthday.”

“’appy meathba’ ‘ay,” Clint corrected, but he reached up to squeeze her wrist and leaned back against her.

Maybe he was just imagining it or something, but it seemed like his headache was gone.

The relationship between misogyny and romance: a SJM study

Why female desire* isn’t problematic, but A Court of Thorns and Roses is.

In which I wade into an issue in depth, praying that the flame war gods do not strike me down.

**Please note that this essay discusses only the misogynist elements of SJM’s writing in the ACOTAR series. There are obviously other problematic elements that require acknowledgement, but this is the one I feel confident in addressing. I haven’t read any of ACOWAR yet.** 

*also, female desire in this instance refers to the desire of the presumed female reader of romance. The reading of romance and YA is obviously not exclusive to women, although a lot of the assumptions of SJM’s work ascribe to the concept of a binary gender.

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anonymous asked:

Hello! I just found your blog and I already adore it, so, if it was okay with you, could you write headcanons about the RFA+V+Saeran with an MC who loves giving hugs and being hugged? (if you don't want to do this request, it's okay, you can make your won request and write it, I would love to see anything you write, honestly)

That is the sweetest thing ever oh my goodness. Thank you sooooooo much <3
This is me. I loves hugs. I love hugs a lot. I’m a hugger. Kinda explains the url I guess. I need hugs.

Yoosung:
-LOVES IT
-He’s a hugger too
-So
-You guys are never not hanging onto each other.
-There is never a time you aren’t in each other’s arms.
-And honestly it’s great for both of you.
-He really loves that you enjoy hugging him because he loves hugging you too :)
-There’s been so many incidents at RFA parties where the other members tell you to get a room because you’re just hanging all over each other.
-If he’s having a rough day, remembering that you’ll be at home with arms wide open is the biggest comfort that gets him through the day.
-He’ll just come home and immediately cling to you.
-You don’t mind.
-You guys are like puzzle pieces.

Zen:
-Yes please
-Give me all the hugs yesyesyesyesyes
-He loves it so much
-He loves when you hug him and he has all of your attention and love because awww you’re so cuuuuute~
-Zen loves it so much that sometimes when he’s busy he just lets you wrap your arms around his neck and your legs around his torso and just carries you around.
-Or he’ll give you a piggyback ride. Either one is okay with him because he just doesn’t want you to let go of him even when he’s busy.
-If you’d be in the way doing that, you just stand or sit next to him and hug his arm which he loves just as much. (did I mention I love arm hugs? because I do.)
-Your hugs are the best hugs and nobody can convince him otherwise. No one else’s hugs make him feel that special.

Jaehee:
-Your hugs are her favorite thing in the world.
-She’ll just be going about her day and she’ll feel your arms slowly wrap around her waist and your head gently press into her back.
-It’s just the cutest and sweetest thing EVER to her.
-If she’s in a bad mood, she finds herself missing the warmth of your hugs.
-She’ll come to you with a frown and just quietly ask for a hug.
-You tackle her in the biggest, warmest, most comforting hug ever.
-No more sad Jaehee.
-It’s magical.
-Cuddle sessions are a daily thing, of course, and she looks forward to it all day.
-If you’re not around, she’ll hug one of your shirts or jackets (or maybe just wear them) until you come back. It’s not the same as hugs, but it can suffice until you come home :)

Jumin:
-Everyday, when he comes home from work, the second he steps in the door, you tackle him in a hug.
-It is the cutest thing ever.
-Somedays when he comes home, you can tell by the way he stands gloomily in the doorway that he’s had a bad day.
-So instead of tackling him, you walk over to him and gently pull him into a hug while humming quietly.
-You whisper “welcome home” and rub his back.
-His day is no longer bad.
-Seriously, your hugs could cure diseases. They could create world peace.
-He truly believes that you are actually an angel.
-That’s his favorite thing to call you btw
-Jumin’s favorite pass time? Hugging you.
-His favorite is when you wrap your arms around his torso and rest your head on his chest.
-You’re just so cute and precious it makes him want to never let go of you.

Saeyoung:
-It made it even more difficult for him to ignore you in that one part of his route because you just wanted to hug him and he really wanted to let you but he couldn’t.
-After that’s all over though,
-HUGS FOREVER
-He will let you hug him whenever you want.
-He likes having your arms wrapped around him. It’s comforting.
-You’ll sometimes cling to him as he’s on the computer or watching TV with your legs around his waist and your head and arms on his shoulders.
-It’s his favorite cuddle position.
-100% down to be the little spoon when you guys sleep or cuddle. He actually prefers it.
-If he’s ever super busy and you can’t hug him without getting in the way, you just kind of grip the end of his shirt because it’s better than nothing.
-It’s adorable to him.

V:
-It’s so calming to have you clinging to him.
-Feeling you against him is the best feeling ever. He can’t see much and he gets a bit anxious if he can’t feel you with him. Lucky for him, you’re always hugging him.
-He’s always so soft and warm too, and he smells nice, and sometimes he likes to stroke your hair (I really want to hug V)
-Sometimes you just latch onto him and refuse to let go.
-“_____, sweetie, I need to go-”
-“NEVER!”
-He really would rather stay and cuddle you all day but he’s got things to do and places to be.
-You fight him tho
-Like excuse you no you’re staying my arms all day you have no say in this
-You usually win and you hug and cuddle him for as long as you want (which is basically forever)

Saeran:
-You held back when you first started dating because you knew he wasn’t comfortable with lots of contact.
-He warms up to the idea though fairly quickly.
-He never regrets it.
-Your arms make him feel safe. Just something about knowing your body is right by his makes him feel completely at ease, like nothing bad can happen because you’re here.
-If you see him looking sad or angry, you just slowly ease him into a hug and it makes him feel so loved and happy.
-He looks back to those moments and smiles.
-He finds himself needing to be in your arms any time he’s upset.
-Nightmares, intrusive thoughts, anxiety, all that mess.
-You can make all of that go away by holding him in your arms.
-No matter what mood he’s in though, he loves your hugs. They’re the nicest thing he’s ever experienced.

Reggie x Reader: Fingers and thumbs, baby. (Part V)

A/N: The end.

Plot: When Reggie and (Y/N) have been bestfriends their whole lives but the universe had other plans.

Originally posted by ivanxna

It has been three days, you were nowhere to be seen and Reggie is about to lose his goddamn mind. He tried everything from calling you (which resulted to a lot of voicemails), going to your house (only to be greeted with an empty one),going to Cheryl’s house (a man can only be kicked out too many times before he learned his lesson), and even going to every single one of your classes to see if you attended but you always weren’t.

“Hey Reggie, coach asked for –“

“Fuck off.” Reggie muttered, getting his bag and going to your next class. Just to check.

The new kid nearly pissed himself when Reggie snapped at him, a glare that was all too familiar but still somehow managed to scared the shit out of him. Smith patted him in the shoulders and shook his head.

“What got his knickers in a twist? A fight with Veronica or something?”

“Or something.” Smith responded which the new kid, who was learning fast, got immediately.

“Damn.”


Reggie was jogging towards (Y/N)’s third period when she saw the all-too familiar red hair of Cheryl Blossom. He couldn’t explain it but a mixture of anger and relief was filling up his system. Anger by the fact that she was probably the main reason why you have completely disappeared out of his life and relief because he also knew that if somebody knew where you are right now, it would be Cheryl.

“Blossom!” his booming voice catching the attention of about fifty students and one Cheryl in particular.

He expected a lot from Cheryl: anger, complete silent treatment, ‘i-will-murder-your-sorry-ass’ glare but he was not expecting a smile.

“Hello, Reggie,” her smile turned into a smirk as she saw his intimidating figure stomping towards her. Oh, she is so ready for this.“Missed me?”

“Missed you, my ass,” Reggie spat. “Where the hell is (Y/N)?”

She rolled her eyes.“Safe from you, if that’s what you’re wondering.” She answered making Reggie flinch. Was she always this annoying?

Reggie refused to give in to the temptation of making Cheryl talk, one way or another because he might be an asshole but he will never touch another girl like that. He sighed. “Stop playing games, Cheryl. Where is she?

Cheryl was about to open her mouth when the a door on their right suddenly opened.“Oh, Ms. Blossom,” Reggie looked at their principal as he went out of his office. Wait, what the hell was Cheryl doing outside Principal Brown’s office?

“Is there any problem regarding your documents for the early transfer?”

Reggie’s blood froze. “Transfer?” he asked but he was ignored by Cheryl.

“Yes, Mr. Mantle.” Principal Brown stated quite proudly. “It is quite a proud moment for Riverdale High to have two of their students attend the prestigious New York University. Unfortunately they will have to leave us early this school year to prepare.”

Two students? No way. “Cheryl?” he nearly pleaded. Begging her to tell him it was Betty or some random chick he couldn’t care to give two fucks about that was the other student.

Not his (Y/N).

“Yes, Mr. Brown,” Cheryl beamed, looking at Reggie straight in the eyes. Me and (Y/N) will not let you down. When did we ever?”  

The chill Reggie felt in his spine could not compare to anything he has ever felt before. It was like all of his nightmares came true all at once. Everything was white noise after that. He barely even remembered running, could barely comprehend the shouts of the principal as he ran outside the gates of Riverdale High and to your house.

There was no way. Just no fucking way you would leave him. You had a plan. Reggie was going to work hard to win the championship to get his scholarship and you would attend the same university as him. Reggie and you have saved nearly your whole highschool life so you can get a shitty apartment near your future school and live together with Reggie.

You had a plan. You wouldn’t leave Reggie. You couldn’t.

He nearly broke down your door from knocking too hard.

“(Y/N)?! MRS. (Y/L/N)?! (Y/N) OPEN UP!”

“Reggie?”

He looked so fast he swore his neck snapped to see your mom getting out of her car. “What are you doing here?”

“Mrs. (Y/L/N) thank God! Do you know where (Y/N) is? I just can’t seem to get a hold of her these days and Cheryl was talking about – about New York and I thought that’s impossible cause –“

“Reggie—Reggie, darling!” Your mom shook him to calm him down. When Reggie looked at your mother he could swore his heart broke from the pity that filled her eyes. “I thought she told you.”

No. This is a dream, a goddamn nightmare. Reggie couldn’t breathe. It was as if some force removed any oxygen around him and his head was spinning so fast he could barely comprehend what your mom was saying or maybe he just didn’t want to hear it.

Reggie didn’t want to accept the fact that you left him all alone. It was supposed to be you and him towards the end. You were supposed to be together.

He wasn’t even given the chance to give you your bracelet. He took a glance at the watch you gave him and realized it was blurry because his eyes were filled with unshed tears.

“I knew I’d find you here.” He straightened up and blinked out his tears only to see Cheryl already sitting at the bench at their little park. He didn’t even realize he was walking down here. He rolled his eyes at Cheryl, she’s probably here to brag all about New York and he really isn’t in the mood for banter right now.

He just lost his hold on this world and now everything in his life is fucked up. He wasn’t even able to say a goodbye. Didn’t he at least deserve a goodbye?

Cheryl sighed patting the space next to her and Reggie gave in. “Remember when we used to play here when we were kids and the three of us and Jason had a whole sandbox for ourselves because even as we were kids we were three assholes that didn’t want anyone but (Y/N) to play with us?”

Reggie looked at the place where their sandbox used to lay which was now turned into a small pond “Yeah,” he sniffed. “But to be fair you were the only asshole in that sandbox.”

“You once pushed Archie from the slide because he gave (Y/N) a flower.” Cheryl squinted, to prove her point.

Reggie rolled his eyes.”He was gonna ask her to marry him.”

“And then you asked her to marry you, in his place.” Cheryl said. Reggie sadly cracked a smile.

“And she laughed saying we were too young but said yes anyway,” Reggie finished the story and closed his eyes. “I remember thinking to myself that maybe if I was the one who get to marry her then we would never have to be apart.”

“Little Reggie would be pissed if he saw you now, wouldn’t he?”

“I’d let Little Reggie beat my ass any day if it means I’ll have her back.”

Cheryl stayed silent looking around. “I wished our world remained as big as this playground. In our little sandbox.Cheryl muttered and Reggie couldn’t help but glare at her.

“That’s rich, Cheryl,” he snapped, shocking Cheryl. “What are you doing here anyway? Don’t you get it?! You won! You have (Y/N)!”

“You think I wanted this, Reggie?!” Cheryl screamed at him, standing up. “Hell, do you think she wanted this?! She was willing to give up New York for you! She declined my offer every goddamn time because she just couldn’t drop your sorry ass but you somehow managed to fuck that up too!”

“I made one mistake, Cheryl.” Reggie stood up too. “One.”

“And if you think you’re mistake was ditching her for seven hours at Pop’s then you’re an even bigger moron than I assumed.” Reggie was confused. “You didn’t just ditch her at Pop’s, Reg. You showed her her place in your life and made her realize that if you weren’t gonna make her the priority then she will make herself a priority.”

Reggie shook his head in disbelief. “She is my priority and you know it, Cheryl.”

“What I know and do not know doesn’t matter. I warned you, Reggie because, unlike you, I actually saw it coming and was not blinded by some false sense of security that nothing will ever change and that (Y/N) will always be waiting silently behind me.” Cheryl sighed one last time before fixing herself. Reggie slumped at the bench, again , head running ten thousand miles per second. “The world is cruel and unfair, Reggie. People grow, they change, and they start wondering what the world outside their comfort zone will look like. Let’s just say we both learned that the hard way.”

“Just go, Cheryl!” Reggie screamed, hating the truth that was coming out of her mouth. He didn’t need the truth right now. He needed you back. Cheryl shook her head and started walking away but turned back.

“Oh, and Reggie.”

He spared her one more glance and saw her handing out an envelope. “Here’s your goodbye.”

Reggie stared at the white envelope long enough for Cheryl to get in her limo and leave.

To Reggie

He teared up when he saw your handwriting, the one you always hated but Reggie thought was beautiful. He opened the envelope with shaking hands.

Hey there big boy,

Reggie couldn’t help the chuckle that went out of his mouth. God, he’s gonna miss you.

Did that make you laugh? You laughed didn’t you? I’m sorry I suck at writing letters but I’m an even bigger idiot when I speak so let’s go to the lesser of two evil.

I’m so sorry, Reg. I know you probably hate me and I’m going to admit it right now that I’m a coward because I am.  I am scared to face you because I knew if I told you that I was leaving for New York you would’ve stopped me and I would’ve let you but I can’t do that anymore, Reg. I’m sorry. I needed to grow up and I can’t do that if I am always with you, if you are always there to protect me.

I have been keeping a secret from you, Reg. You see, I’m not that great of a friend. You might object (I hope you do, you ass) and tell me that I’m the best friend you have ever had but that’s where everything will go to shit, Reg. I’m not a good friend because I didn’t want to be just a good friend to you. I didn’t even realize it then but I have been using our friendship as an excuse for my affections towards you but now I’m letting it all out: I love you, Reg. And I meant that in the most non-platonic way possible. I thought I could keep it, I thought it would disappear and I can just pretend that everything is fine and dandy but clearly I was wrong.

I love you, Reggie Mantle and you have no idea how sorry I am for that. I did not leave as payback or to make you feel bad. I left because I need to. I need this. I need to see a life outside of you, Reggie because due to recent events I saw just how impossible it would be for me to remain in yours forever. The world doesn’t work that way and sooner than later we would have been ripped apart and I would be left with nothing.

None of this is your fault, my love. This was my decision to make and I’m sorry if I hurt you in any way. Despite it all, I hope we meet again some time in the future where we will be who we are supposed to be and we can rebuild this relationship that was never supposed to end. Somewhere, someday we will cross again, how and when it will happen will not matter, what matters is that, at that time, we will be right for each other. We will already be a better version of who we are today and we need to separate for us to reach that point.

I wish you nothing but the best, Reggie, because you deserve it. And I hope you too will find happiness beyond our little town in Riverdale. I’ll see you on the outside, it’s a date.

Love,

Pup

Reggie was a mess. Your confession was something he never expected but has been crawling at the back of his mind for a long time now. He knew that what he had with you was something special and he didn’t need Cheryl or Archie or Veronica to say that for him to notice. What you had with him was different because you were special. It was sick, the way he loved it when girls would whine at him on how he always spends time with you like they had any right because they didn’t. they were nothing compared to you, to his girl, and just like you he had been banking on the fact that you two have always been like that to suppress his feelings, to use it as an excuse for the one thing he was so afraid of: love. He was so afraid to love you because in his eyes you were you and he was Reggie and being just Reggie gave him no right to even dream of loving you. You were smart and beautiful and so fucking perfect and he was just some clueless jock who got you in his life by some dumb luck. When it comes to you he didn’t want to risk anything and in turn that was what caused you to leave.

He knew you were right but he couldn’t help but still want you back. There should’ve been another way where he didn’t have to lose you but he knew it was useless. Cheryl was right, he is a moron. He was so blinded by the fact that you were always there on his side that he did not even try to prospect the possibility of you leaving and now he is slapped by the reality of it. He should’ve said those three little words you wanted to hear a long, long time ago. God knows he loved you too, so much, too much. But he had no time to mourn because just as you said you will meet again. What happened cannot be undone and if he wants to have a face to show you when the time comes, if he really want to earn the right to ask you to become officially his then there was only one thing to do left:

He needed to fucking win this Championship


A/N: Or is it?


@captainsuperfangirl

@kimberlymazel

@annoyingsibling

@ooh-hannahsun

@belbow

Meta: Down in the Muck - Mr Ketch, Dean and Masculine Hunting Identities

In the past eleven seasons, SPN has mainly depicted American hunters as blue-collar workers with a very traditional view of masculinity. John Winchester with his giant machete, his penis truck and his Playboys was a perfect embodiment of said hunting culture. The British Men of Letters differ radically from this concept both in terms of socioeconomic status and in their sense of masculinity.

When Mick approaches Wally in First Blood, the latter tells him, “You can take your offer and you can shove it up your ass. I’m sure it won’t be too painful,  what with those soft hands of yours, right?“ The homophobic and misogynist implications here are obvious - Wally deems Mick too “effeminate”.

Mr Ketch is a slightly different case than Mick. In the latest episode, we see him actively try to refashion himself as an “American style” hunter in order to recruit Dean. Something which despite his own assessment really doesn’t go down to well.

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Everything you need to know about Natasha, Pierre, and the Great Comet of 1812!

Lately I have been totally obsessed with a Broadway musical called Natasha, Pierre, and the Great Comet of 1812. I finally convinced one of my best friends to take a listen to the soundtrack, but I wanted her to fully get a feel for the show before she did. It can be confusing, especially because it’s sung through (like Rent and Hamilton) and because it can be a struggle to grasp the musical concepts the first time you listen to it. So I figured I would post this so that anyone who wouldn’t have the chance to see the show or who didn’t have a ton of Broadway background knowledge would still be able to enjoy this soundtrack! 

Disclaimer: This post is going to be exactly the opposite of spoiler free. 

Why you should listen to Great Comet:

  • It had the most Tony nominations out of all of the Broadway shows this year (12!)
  • The director is a Jewish female.
  • Three women have played Natasha, all of whom are women of color.
  • The actors are all relatively new to Broadway— this is their big break, for many of them. And they kill it.
  • The ensemble won two awards for best ensemble, which isn’t surprising because the energy is insane. They got the ACCA Award for Outstanding Broadway Chorus, and the Chita Rivera Award for Dance and Choreography. 
  • It’s a weird, complex, smart, insane, energetic, fascinating piece of work.
  • This is a once-in-a-lifetime musical when you see it in person. The soundtrack gives you insight into why that is.
  • If you want to get a vibe for the energy and chaos and insanity, watch the Tony performance! “The Abduction” is featured in here, and it’s my favorite part of the musical. “Balaga” into “The Abduction” fucking slay.

The Set-Up:

Before we go into the plot, I’m going to tell you a little bit about the set-up of the show, because, honestly, the plot is the least important part, in my opinion.

When you walk into the theater, the first thing you hear is the strains of loud Russian music wafting towards you. Although the entire show doesn’t sound like this, it is really good at getting you into the mode of that classic Russian music. A lot of the exposition is written in that style. Personal character songs/moments are more stylistically pop, hip-hop, musical theater, soulful, etc.

Great Comet started off, essentially, as dinner theater. As such, the production is in the round. There’s audience members sitting in seats along the stage. They get to be up-close with the actors (sometimes the actors do interact with you, but it’s not cheesy, cross my heart. I hesitate to tell people that because they usually write it off immediately but TRUST ME, I’M INCREDIBLY JUDGEMENTAL. They don’t talk to you or anything, they just play off of your reactions at specific moments for comedy. Oh, and they yell at you in Russian if you’re filming them. Which… fair.) There’s also ten or so people sitting quite literally on stage at tables, in the midst of the action, as well as people sitting directly next to the pit, which is very small and visible in center stage.

Then you can sit in orchestra, mezzanine, and rear mezzanine. In orchestra, you have something like a catwalk curving through the audience. You will get people dancing right next to you all the time, followin’ dat yellow brick road. The distinction between the mezzanine and the rear mezzanine is that there’s a little, mini “stage” (more like a box) set up for the ensemble to dance on. They’re up there basically 75% of the show (as well as onstage. They’re all over the place all the time. Directing this musical must have been a goddamn nightmare.)

(Note: Any seat in the theater is partial view. You’re not going to be able to see the people on the catwalk from the rear mezzanine. You won’t be able to see the people dancing up on the rear mezzanine from the orchestra. It’s a trade off. Just for some perspective of the theater!)

Another beautiful thing about the theatre is the lights. They’re all around the entire auditorium, so no matter where you’re sitting, you’ll probably have these beautiful, small yellow lights next to you that look like stars. They move up and down (physically, not in brightness, although obviously that happens too) throughout the show, so that sometimes you feel like you’re standing out in the night with the characters, looking up at the stars that they are gazing at.

A really cool, small touch is that there are little round tables with these lovely purple lamps on them that glow up and down with the lighting. Which, by the way, is tremendous. The lighting design is ridiculous. But so is the set design! There’s little posters of Russian historical figures all around the theater. 

The Pit:

Remember how I said the pit appears to be small? The reason for that is threefold:

  1. Actors frequently play instruments. You’ll see an ensemble member in combat boots, a plaid skirt, a tight jacket, and a giant-ass clarinet. Anatole plays the violin. You’ll also see cast members coming out to beat a drum or something to that effect. (The show is super meta, but we’ll get to that later.)
  2. The pit also has to be small because Pierre spends most of the show chilling down there, reading his books at his desk. Sometimes he plays the piano or the accordion or little symbols or, you know, a little bell. He’s just chilling. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
  3. I have slightly lied to you because technically the pit is NOT that small— it’s just that not everybody can always see them because the musicians are spread around the theater. When they were in rehearsals, the director and music director and writer of the show sat all around the theater to listen and found that spreading the orchestra around the theater meant that each person sort of heard something unique. Obviously when you’re in the rear mezzanine, you’ve got musicians that are closer to you than the people sitting orchestra do, a vice versa. Therefore, you hear the arrangements differently. It’s very beautiful.

Plot:

Now that that’s out of the way.

Great Comet actually has very little to do with the actual comet (sorry, science nerds.) Actually, the part of the title that you want to pay attention to is the names at the top— Natasha and Pierre. Spoilers: these characters actually don’t interact in the context of the show until the second to last scene. But they symbolize enormous turning points in each other’s lives, which is why I think they’re the title. Natasha is the start of the show (she’s the first character you’re introduced to.) She is also the start of Pierre’s ending shifting into something new. Which I’m not going into right now, but just know that the fate of Pierre’s heart is tied to Natasha’s heart.

Natasha is a young girl visiting her godmother in the wildly social site of Moscow, Russia during the war. She and her cousin are staying with Marya D. while they wait for their fiancés to return from aforementioned war. Over the course of the story, Natasha (naïve, innocent, lovely Natasha) becomes seduced by both the Russian society and by its most handsome playboy— Anatole.

Antonole is like… he’s like a 19th Century Russian fuckboi. He’s like… oh my god, he’s 19th century Chuck Bass. Natasha is season one Jenny. Sonya is Vanessa. Helene is Blair. PIERRE IS BLAIR’S SHORT JEWISH STEP-DAD. This is an amazing analogy.

Characters

Now that you have some backstory, let’s talk about the characters! Most of what you need to know about them can be found in the first song— the prologue (or, for the full version without acting): This is all in your program, you are at the opera. Gonna have to study up a little bit if you wanna keep with the plot. Cuz it’s a complicated Russian novel, everybody’s got nine different names. So look it up in your program, we appreciate it, thanks a lot.

Keep reading

Tales of Miss Fortune

Welp, this was meant to be a Blancfortune oneshot. The me and @ladyofacat had some 3 AM talks and this turned into a villain!Ladybug au. Oops. Also, if you expect plot, leave the expectations at the door lmao. This story will mostly be sexual tension escalading and Miss Fortune/Marinette driving Chat/Adrien mad.

Next 

Happy Valentine’s Day!


Chat Noir moved stealthily through the dark corridors of the Louvre. It was fights like this when he was truly grateful for his night vision. Fights in the dark were an advantage for him and he knew he needed any asset he could get when it came to fighting her. Because honestly, there was only one thief in the whole of Paris (and possibly Europe) that would go on a stealing spree without any care for the security system.

Miss Fortune.

Chat’s grip on his staff tightened as he scanned the halls for his nemesis. She was the nightmare of Paris for almost six years now. And while she was not robbing simple people, there wasn’t any museum, gallery and private collection that had been spared. And more often than Chat would have liked to admit, she got away with it. He didn’t even want to think how many millions if not billions of euros had been lost because of her. Damn her.

Chat’s eyes scanned the hall he was in, feeling a little bit creeped out by the eyes in the portraits almost following him. He was never a fan of museums at night. Sometimes he wished he could just the exact place where Miss Fortune was. Not that he was worried she will escape. She never left without a fight. More often than not, Chat felt she was doing all these robberies with a clear purpose in mind: to drive him mad. Frankly, she was succeeding. With a sigh, he stopped in place focusing on the noise. His cat ears twitched as he heard a faint noise. from somewhere afar and a little to the west.

The storehouse.

He sprinted down the hall until he was close enough to hear better. He began moving with stealth again, his steps trailing the little noises he was hearing. His tail flicked anxiously as he stepped in one of the big rooms of the basement. Boxes of all sizes, sculptures wrapped in sheets covered in dust and even some paintings lying around. The sight almost made him sad, but he didn’t have time to linger on that. He kept his guard up as he stepped further into the room, being prepared for any surprise attack. What he wasn’t prepared for, however, was a fancy chair that probably belonged in the court of Louis de 14th. Put in the middle of an empty space and illuminated strangely by some candles in the back. He immediately spun around, throwing his baton at the target behind him that triggered a noise just one second before. Only to see that there was nothing before him.

“What the… ” his curse had turned into a yowl as someone jumped into his back, managing to knock him off his feet.

A pair of soft lips brushed against his ear shell. “Hello, handsome.”

Chat struggled as she sized his hands behind his back, making it impossible for him to use them. With a grunt of annoyance, he rolled on is back, trying to get rid of her, but it only aggravated the situation as she copied his move. It ended up with a tumble on the floor, until Miss Fortune managed to tie his hands with the string of her yoyo. Chat growled as she forced him to sit in the chair and wrapped the string around his body, managing to tie him to the chair.

“You, know, I’m almost disappointed for how easy you fell for that, kitten.” she said with a pout while taking a bundle of rope off her belt. She took a few steps towards him, slow, almost teasingly. It wouldn’t be the first time when Chat felt like he was the mouse and she was the cat. “But I could forgive you if you meow for me a little.”

Adrien just glared at her, clenching his teeth. She always liked to play with him and he knew very well giving her a reaction would only make her satisfied with herself. And he was too stubborn for that. His lack of reaction seemed to only make her pout further.

“Well, then. If you aren’t in the mood of talking I’ll just get to action too. And when you think I even settled the romantic atmosphere with the candles.” with a dramatic sigh, she got on her knees in front of him.

He did his best to ignore the heat rising in his cheeks as he tried to kick her away. Miss Fortune grabbed his leg and pinned it back down with ease. Glancing up at him with a scolding look, she chided him. “Bad chaton!”

He huffed annoyed, before redirecting his attention to her, keeping a close eye for any chance to free himself. She looked away from his face, her gaze sliding over his torso and then to his crotch. And by the way her lips curled into a predatory smirk, Chat was sure he was in trouble. Humming amusedly, she settled her hands on his thighs before spreading his legs wide open.

“What are you doing?” to his ultimate embarrassment, that was very much a squeak.

“Oh, but please, tell me, kitten. What happens usually when you have someone kneeling between your spread legs?”

Chat really wanted to give a witty reply, but frankly, he was pretty brain dead when she was staring at him with those bedroom eyes. Why was he cursed with a weakness for blue eyes?

And as if that wasn’t enough, she began running her hands up and down his thighs, agonizingly slow. And the suit wasn’t doing anything to decrease the feeling. It only stopped the pain from big hits, but gentle touches? They felt as if there was nothing between them besides a very thin sheet of silk. Chat beat his lips as she rested her head on his left thigh, her fingers trailing closer and closer to his crotch.  He closed his eyes, trying to think about the most unpleasant things in the world, just not to get a boner. He could never forgive himself if he got a boner from her teasing in front of her.

(He got boners because of her before and he wouldn’t bother lying, but frankly, he was in private.)

She would never let him live it down. As if she didn’t wound his pride enough these years. That would be the last drop. He felt Miss Fortune shift and then, something being wrapped around his ankles. He opened his eyes only to find his ankles tied and Miss Fortune smirking up at him, some rope still in her hands.

“I liked you tied up.” he remarked casually before putting the rope over her shoulder and sitting in his lap.

Chat hissed. She was warm. And he had no doubt the way she was grinding on him, slowly was with a clear purpose in mind. Chat wanted to scream. Why couldn’t he have a normal enemy? One that found pleasure in kicking his ass, not in sexually frustrating him? No, apparently that was too much to ask for. When he accepted being a superhero he certainly didn’t expect almost six years of flirting, banter and sexual tension that just seemed to increase in the latest months.

Miss Fortune nuzzled his nose. That gesture was way too sweet for someone who looked like she was one step away from eating him alive while dry humping him. And there was so much he could do to stop his dick from going hard while someone was grinding on him and it felt very much like it was skin on skin. Miss Fortune seemed extremely happy with her results so far.

“Do you like this, kitten?” she whispered in his ear in a sultry voice as she increased her rhythm, her hot core moving faster against his boner.

Chat let out a moan, dropping his head against her shoulder. This was humiliating, but he couldn’t bring himself to care too much when he felt so good. He will regret this later, he knew, but frankly, he had limits where he simply couldn’t resist anymore. Miss Fortune was running her hands all over his body and Chat realized a few seconds too late she was tying him the rope and retrieving her yoyo.

“I fucking hate you.” he growled through gritted teeth. For what, he wasn’t sure. For being a nightmare to Paris? For humiliating him like that? For the fact that he was actually enjoying it? For outwitting him?

There was a slight gasp and soon all the warmth was gone. He looked up to see Miss Fortune glaring at him.

“That was the wrong thing to say.” she hissed before getting something out of a box on the side. “Bad kitties get punished.”

The next thing he knew was that Miss Fortune was leaning towards him with a piece of duct tape in her hands. She pressed it against his lips, before a smirk appeared on her face. She tilted her head, pressing her lips against his through the duct tape before gluing it to his face.

“That was for the language. You should learn how to dirty talk, kitten. ” she straightened her back. “You were very rude, I liked you better when you were moaning. And because you said that, then I won’t make you cum anymore.”

Going to another box that was laying near, she picked two pieces of jewelry. The turned to him, raising them for him to see.

“They supposedly belonged to Madame de Pompadour. And given you are here, I want to ask you for an opinion. Which one do you think fits me better?”

She raised each pair to her ears. “The sapphire ones or the ruby ones?” Chat gave an annoyed growl making er giggle. “Oopsie, I forgot I duct taped you. Oh well, nod once for sapphire, nod twice for ruby.”

She looked throughout amused as he didn’t react anyhow. “Well, I guess you are right. I should take both.”

Chat glared at her as she put the two pairs of earrings in one of her belt satchels.

“See you next time, beau gosse.” she said with a smirk, blowing him a kiss.

And with that, she simply strutted out of the hall, leaving a very annoyed Chat Noir with an unsolved boner behind.

Claire Nuñez: Why She’s Awesome, And Why You Should Care

Perhaps it’s because DreamWorks’ Race To The Edge has left a cold, bitter void in my heart; or perhaps it’s because the writing and characters in Trollhunters are that good; maybe it’s both?

The point is, I need to talk about the deep appreciation I have for Claire Nuñez.

At first—for about 12 episodes or so—I didn’t have much of an opinion of her. She seemed kind of wooden; generic. It actually baffled me why she would keep forgiving Jim for flaking. From an objective point of view, he was being a complete jerk. I couldn’t understand why this smart, self-respecting young lady would keep giving this guy second chances. As the audience, we knew what Jim was dealing with—but Claire didn’t. I was actually glad she got mad, and stayed mad, at him after the first NotEnrique incident. It was about time…but it was even more than that. She knew Jim was lying to her; keeping things from her. She wasn’t just taking his excuses without a reasonable amount of skepticism.

Once her eyes are opened to the whimsical world of trolls, her character really starts to shine—and she never stops.

She’s smart, but not insufferable; self-reliant, but not overpowered; enthusiastic, but not wholly ignorant to the dangers of what they do (maybe a bit optimistic, though). Most importantly, she doesn’t take the boys’ crap. When Toby starts acting like a jealous girlfriend, she calls him out on it. She makes him admit it out loud, even though she forgives him. A vague half-apology or admission of wrongdoing isn’t enough for her. She isn’t just going to take the high road without some humility in return. NotEnrique gives her crap, and she gives it right back. Their dynamic is wonderful. 

Can I also just say that she misses her brother terribly. It’s the nightmare that plagues her during Angor Rot’s pixie attack on the school—but she pushes forward with a stiff upper lip, never letting her heartache for her missing baby brother slow her down or distract her (when she isn’t hallucinating, of course). That takes a good deal of inner strength.

Claire is also an accomplished fighter, but she has to train and work at the shadow staff. She isn’t going to be able to flawlessly wield a weapon crafted for nefarious purposes. It responds effectively to her anger, but she’s trying to gain control over it without relying on negative emotions. It is wonderful that we see her try and fail; try and succeed. She’s reliable. Dependable. She isn’t a damsel Jim has to continuously save! With the exception of her first encounter with goblins (which she is understandably unprepared and outmatched for), Claire is not just fodder for Jim’s heroics. That is incredibly refreshing

Now, let’s talk about Jlaire.

Is this your typical teenage romance slow burn? Yes. It is. So, what sets this pairing apart, you ask? Well, besides the aforementioned reason that they fight alongside each other and Jim isn’t always risk life and limb to save Claire, their relationship is a budding romance intermingled with a strengthening friendship and mutual respect. 

Not to mention, Claire isn’t a bashful flower around Jim. She knows he likes her. She isn’t obtuse, and that is also a nice change in the teen romance cliche. How many times have we seen the mutually oblivious almost-couple that just cannot see what is so painfully obvious to everyone else? You want to shake the screen because they are so stupidly dense for not other reason but to drag out needless drama?

We don’t get that with Jim and Claire—and that’s because Claire takes initiative. If Jim had his way, they would still be floundering in mutual cluelessness, and we would all be shrieking into our pillows or couch cushions. But Claire isn’t having it. Jim likes her, she knows it. She develops feelings for the wonderful, dorky noodle child in return. She drops him all the major hints to give him the opportunity to step up…and he doesn’t. Now, as thick as Jim is being despite Claire’s hints, we can understand where his head is at: he’s trying to woo the popular girl and he’s not even sure her feelings are the same as his. Jim is not smooth by any means, so he drops the ball in a bad case of nerves. We’ve also seen this kind of thing a thousand times…but this is where Claire steps in. She’s not satisfied letting things just lie where Jim dropped them. She asks him to the dance (we can imply this is a statement of her intent to date Jim, and I will elaborate on this in a moment), and is not shy about calling him out for fumbling his chances.

Claire knows what she wants, and she wants Jim—at least in a vague, loosely-dating sense. She also wants Jim to have every opportunity to make a move, even if she has to prod him along.Bless Claire for taking the lead when her not-boyfriend-but-kinda-is misses a step. After she takes the initiative to ask Jim to the dance, it bolsters his confidence. He feeds off of Claire’s strength and support. He wastes no time in trying to kiss her twice after that (curse those interrupting circumstances). This is why I believe Claire’s intent is to date Jim, because she certainly is not resistant to his advances after that.

We need more leading ladies like Claire: smart, tough, capable, and outspoken, but in a balanced, believable way.

Kiss It Better [Tate Langdon x Reader]

Request: “Hey could you please write a one shot with Post Death Tate were the reader has been having nightmares so she’s stopped sleeping and one day she’s hanging out with Tate in the murder house basement and faints from exhaustion and he comforts and confront her about it? Maybe helping her get some sleep? Thank you so much!!” - Anon

Word Count: 679

A/N: I’ve never actually fainted before so I’m not 100% sure how accurate this is. I mean, I was stuck in a snow hole for like 5hrs and sort of blacked out but I don’t think that counts because that was due to my older brother, not sleep deprivation. 

I was listening to the Rihanna song and yep

A small shout wakes you up in a cold sweat, forcing your body off of the pillow. Sighing, you reach for the bottle of now-warm water on the night stand. Tate standing at the edge of your bed catches your attention, a worried look etched onto his tired face. 

“I’m fine, Tate. Go back to bed.” You groan, unscrewing the cap and temporarily forgetting that ghosts couldn’t sleep. Well, they could, but just didn’t need it to function. And from what he had previously told you, it wasn’t very enjoyable. He just sat there in silence, usually, which prompted all sorts of thoughts that he wouldn’t tell you about. Tate liked laying in bed with you most times, though. It took the bad thoughts away, and replaced them with brand new ones. But recently, you had blocked him from sleeping with you because of the nightmares. It was rare you got more than three or four hours of sleep per night, and you mainly stayed up reading or playing games on your phone. On the nights you did get some sleep, it wasn’t very nice, and left you in a state of shock and made you reflect on everything you’d ever done. At least it was good thinking time.

He stalks forward, resting at the side of your bed. Rolling your eyes at his puppy-like nature, you nod, and he lays down. That was the first night in a while that you got a semi-enjoyable night of sleep. It was a while later that you realized that he had been present each night you had a decent rest. It was like he was your lucky charm. 

Fast forward to now. It’s a week or so later, maybe even two. You were hanging out by the basement steps with Tate, talking about school, music, cats… Really, whatever kept him from noticing that you were two blinks away from falling asleep. You knew he’d take it on himself if you did happen to fall asleep while he was talking, and that probably wouldn’t end well for either of you.

“I don’t know.” He shrugs, finishing his story. “It’s just weird.” 

“Y-yeah, it’s weird.” You shrug, your head spinning. Your eyes slowly shut to help the pain, but you feel Tate’s words get louder and louder until they’re not there at all. Taking a breath, attempting to open your eyes, you feel yourself float away. 

That’s the last thing you remember before waking up. Tate hovered above you, his eyes stained pink and worried. 

“I’m fine,” You say, trying to sit up. His hand blocks you, stopping you while you rest on your elbows on the messy bed sheets beneath you. “I’m fine. Let me up.”

“You’re not fine!” He shouts, standing. “You passed out! I thought you-”

Raising your hand to your forehead, you sigh. “How long?” He shrugs, sitting back down next to you.

“A long time. It’s dark out.” Tate says quietly. With his words, you’re running to the window to confirm his words. Much to your pleasure, it was only just getting dark, somewhere around five o’clock (you hoped, at least). “Why did you black out?” You shrug, leaning on your stomach. You assumed that the nausea was some side effect of the whole fainting thing. 

That’s when you see it click in his eyes. He knew exactly why you had fainted. “It’s the dreams, isn’t it? That’s why you haven’t been sleeping. That’s why you-”

“I don’t know, Tate! Just shut up and come here.” You groan, standing up, still clutching your stomach. He sits on the bed, the mix of anger and confusion in his eyes slowly fading away. The bed dips awkwardly as you sit next to him, leaning your head on his shoulder. “I don’t know.”

His arm wraps around your waist, pulling you closer into his chest comfortably. The boy strokes your hair softly and hums some random tune, and for the first time in however long, you actually might’ve been falling asleep to something nice. Maybe Tate really was your magic charm.

Dating Park Chanyeol Would Include

Note: Is Chanyeol your bias? Do you like reading fan fiction? if yes to both, why don’t you check out my new Park Chanyeol fan fiction? You can find it here -> Taming the Virus. 

Huang Zitao/ Tao| Kim Jongdae/ Chen| Park Chanyeol| Kim Junmyeon/ Suho| Kim Minseok/ Xiumin| Oh Sehun| Kim Jongin/ Kai| Do Kyungsoo/ D.O.| Byun Baekhyun| Zhang Yixing/ Lay| Lu Han| Wu Yifan/ Kris| Mafia!EXO|

Main Masterlist - EXO Masterlist

In the Daytime

Originally posted by sehunsi

  • Him being the best boyfriend in the world world.
  • But before asking you out he would be the flirtiest and kindest man.
  • Always bringing you hot drinks whenever he comes over to your house from the local cafe he passes every time he comes to see you.
  • Him giving you cute nicknames.
  • “Princess? No… hm, maybe honey? No, that makes us sound like an old married couple. Oh! I know, I’m going to call you love! Actually no, that’ll make me sound like your grandma. Uh… I know, I’m going to call you sweetheart!”
  • Him always offering to help you even though you’re trying to convince him not to. Like, you could be arguing over this for ages and he isn’t going to let up.
  • “Come on {y/n} just open the door for me. Let me carry the washing just this once”
  • “Fine.”
  • “Thank god you finally agreed, my triceps are killing me.”
  • Him hugging you
  • All the time
  • And will use any excuse for PDA
  • “Hold my hand {y/n} I don’t want to lose you in the crowd!”
  • “There’s like ten people, Chanyeol.”
  • You having to share Chanyeol with Baekhyun and Kyungsoo the majority of the time.
  • Kyungsoo coming over to cook for you and Chanyeol because he fears both of your safety if Chanyeol is let near the oven.
  • Chanyeol teasing you on a day to day basis because he can.
  • But teasing you in more ways than one ;)
  • Feeling you up underneath the table in public places while you blush and tell him to stop.
  • Him being warned by management on multiple occasions because he finds it really hard to keep your relationship on the down low.
  • Chanyeol talking about you
  • All the time
  • “{y/n} can do that, you know.”
  • “Yeah chanyeol, you’ve only reminded us eight thousand times.”
  • Chanyeol being the happy virus in your life and gives you a reason to smile every single day even on your worst days.
  • But he has his bad days sometimes,
  • And he loves having you around to comfort him.
  • Unless you two have had a fight
  • He’ll sit in his music studio room and make music until he falls asleep in the most uncomfortable positions.
  • “Aish, how does he sleep like this?” *puts a blanket over him before leaving him there*
  • Fighting with you is his literal worst nightmares brought to life
  • He hates it
  • So it’s a good job it doesn’t happen often.
  • Chanyeol is pretty chilled back when it comes to a lot of things.
  • But hates being away from you for a long time
  • On tour he turns into a puppy
  • Looking at photos of you on his phone when he’s lonely, and if it’s not a stupid time to call then he will.
  • The sound of your voice will soothe him and make him feel so safe in more ways than you’ll ever know.
  • Him reminding you that he loves you every single day.
  • He loves cuddling you on the couch
  • Especially when he’s lying with his head in your lap and you’re running your fingers through your hair
  • Or he’s leaning with his head on your chest
  • Not in a dirty way, just in one of those comforting ways
  • But he also loves holding you close into his chest too
  • He can’t get enough of cuddling
  • He always talks about the future with you, and always has big ideas for how he wants to live with you even after his contract ends with EXO.
  • “I want a red front door to our house. And a pretty garden where I can write songs on hot days. And I want a big bedroom for us, we can cover it in photos. Ah I can’t wait to buy our house, we’re going to make so many memories.”
  • “Hold your horses, Chanyeol. We’ve still got a few years yet.”
  • Him falling in love with you more and more every single day
  • Him writing songs for you all the time
  • Him wanting you to listen to his songs before anyone else because your opinion matters to him the most.
  • So many kisses
  • Him kissing you on he forehead and cheeks all the time
  • Pecks on the mouth
  • Or full on make out sessions
  • There isn’t much in between
  • Chanyeol being in love with you and showing that every single day


At nighttime

Originally posted by yeollovemebaek

  • Him always looking after you afterwards every time.
  • Him constantly wanting to be the big spoon because he’s tall and you’re smol and he loves that about you
  • He also just loves the feeling of you in his arms where he can hold you and protect you from harm
  • After a long day of working he’s probably going to be tired
  • But that isn’t going to stop him from getting physical
  • Lazy sex
  • Unless he’s really in the mood
  • In which case, be careful
  • This man may look cute but he is basically the embodiment of a sex god
  • Him being dominant
  • Even when you’re on top, you and he both know who is really in charge
  • Round two
  • Three
  • Four
  • Him not really being very kinky but is up to try anything that you want to try
  • Him doing it basically anywhere in the bedroom
  • Skinship
  • Neck kisses
  • Love marks in discrete places
  • Him not caring that the stylists and makeup artists constantly tell him off for receiving all these marks because it just feels so good getting them
  • Him being rough
  • But always passionate 
Ultralight Beam

Author’s Note: Immmm bacckkk. Jesus it literally feels like forever since I have sat down to write something that wasn’t an essay for my classes. It summer break and I’m making comeback to Tumblr and my comeback as a writer. This took two day to right but I put my heart into it, shout out to Harrys-writing she probably doesn’t even know me but dude you inspired me to start writing again, so this is high key dedicated to her. If there any grammar errors sorry. My request box is open and I’m open to writing about other artist, I’ve just been in my Harry vibes for a bit ( when have I ever not been in my harry vibes tho?) . This is supposed to be two parts, the next part may contain smut but that’s all up to if you guys want to read it. Also for extra effect you could listen to Harry’s cover of Ultralight Beam by Kanye West, as this was what I listened to when writing this .( https://youtu.be/AHYG-XcPLWY ) . Anyways thanks so much for reading and I hope you enjoy it!
~
You had everything you ever wanted. You were engaged to the love of your life, Nick Campbell. You lived in the home of your dreams. You loved your job. You would think you would be satisfied, but you know what they say only fools are satisfied.
You arrived at the listening party 20 minutes late due to your fiancés nagging and traffic, Nick couldn’t see why you were such a rush to be there since you were always in the studio with Harry while he was making the album. You had even travelled with him to Jamaica when he was writing, but none the less you just had to be here. You had to see him again.
~
“I’ll be back”, you assured Nick before placing a kiss onhis cheek and disappearing into the crowd of people. You would think it be easy for you to find the man of the hour, but it seemed impossible in sea of people in the venue. You continued in what seemed like a hopeless journey before a strong hand grabbed onto your forearm tightly and pulled you into a secluded hallway. “Hey get your paws off me, my fiancé will-” “Are you sure about that love?”. Your heart jumped and your breathing hitched as you turned to see him, the man of the hour, Mr. Harry Edward Styles hovering over you with the cheekiest smile on his face. Harry looked mouth watering, he was dressed head to toe in Gucci and his shirt was unbuttoned showing of his bare chest. He smelt like his infamous Versace cologne, the same cologne he wore when you first met- the smell brought back memories of the two of you together. You let out a small huff in attempts to pull yourself together - Harry notices and chuckled softly, that smug grin never leaving his face. “ I’ve been looking all over for you. Come with me”
~

This was so wrong. So so so so wrong. Your future husband could walk in here at any moment and everything would be over, your dirty little secret would be out. The background history of you and Harry was simple, you had met Harry at a mutual friend’s party after having a bad argument with your fiancé. A full bottle of vodka in both of your systems was to blame for you never making it home to your fiancé that night and waking up in Harry’s arms the following morning. That’s as far as it was supposed to go between you two, but Harry couldn’t get you out of his mind so he reached out to your mutual fiend to get you number. He texted you everyday for a week until you finally gave in and met him for lunch at his hotel while he was in town which lead to him fucking you on the countertop, and after that you two couldn’t get your hands off of each other. You would sneak out at night, make up lies about working late or staying with a friend, just to have Harry’s cock buried deep inside of you. It was ridiculous and you knew it but here you two are making out and dry jumping like two high schoolers. Harry was attacking your sweet spot on your neck with his lips, it had only been maybe 10 minutes since you two finally found each other but you were already melting like butter for him. “ Harry..shit fuck… my fiancé ”, you moans softly into the air as Harry’s warm hands began to wander all over your body. He chuckled softly,” Is that suppose to scare me… That twat is irrelevant”. “ That twat is the man I plan to marry”, you retorted back pushing away from Harry. “ Oh please (Y/N) don’t give me that shit, just a week ago you were at my door crying about he’s fucking his assistant. How long are you gonna keep this act up?” His nostrils began to flare, he was trying his best not to explode. You calling the twat your fiancé was enough to make him want to tear down the walls of the hallway you stood in. “ Nick is a good guy… we are..” “Don’t you dare say it (Y/N), it’s a lie and you know it. If you were happy you wouldn’t be in my bed every night”. The two of you stood in silence, the echoes of Kiwi bouncing down the hallway, you bit down on your lip softly unsure of what to say. You thought you were happy but as the months passed you started to put on your clothes a little slower whenever you and Harry had quickie, you would dread having to leave Harry and go back to your husband. “ You’re not happy and you know it. It’s bad enough he’s enough of an asshole but he bores you . You’re bored ( Y/N). What you have it’s not love, your just scared for once to take a leap of faith” , Harry began to pace in front of you his veins were bulging out and you could tell this whole thing had angered him. “ I can’t just leave him… you know that”, you whimper and look down at your hands. You never meant to hurt anybody, you knew this was wrong from the start but seeing Harry in such distress because of your actions was a nightmare come true.
“ You can’t just make decide like this”
“ No I can’t but it’s very clear what you’ve decided”
“ Harry stop please”
“ No you stop! You would rather marry that piece of shit than to be with someone who actually loves you. God dammit (Y/N), I’ve loved you since I first met you! But you’re too blind to see it !”
“ Harry… I didn't”
“ Of course you wouldn’t have known, you’re too stuck up that twats ass to notice”
“Haz…”
“ Stop. This stops right now . Enjoy your life with Nick”
Harry gave you one last glance, his eyes a mixture sadness and anger, before he walks back into the crowd of guest leaving you to suffer in your own guilt.