When I see the images again from the first ‘Harry Potter’ I immediately think how bad my hair was. It is always surprising for me, to see how long this period of time is, where I have come and from where I started. It is pleasant to follow that journey. I want to be a woman of the Renaissance. I want to paint, and write. And above all I want to continue to act. I simply want to do everything.
Being friends with benefits with Min Yoongi can be complicated (at best) by itself. But when you accidentally tell your family (and his boss) that the two of you are dating, things get messy. It only complicates things more when you blackmail Yoongi into pretending to date you, and neither of you can quite keep your feelings separate, no matter how much you try.
stood near Yoongi on the sidewalk while you brought the car around. Yoongi
still wasn’t happy about his
presence, but he had stopped telling him to go to hell, at least.
“You know, if you want to keep her,
you’re going to have to do a lot better than you are right now.” Jackson said
“What are you talking about?”
“I’m talking about the way you look
at her. And the way she looks at you. You do
know that if the two of you would just talk
like normal people do, all of your problems would go away, right?”
“And what would I tell her?” Yoongi
asked, looking at him sideways. Jackson shrugged.
“You tell me.”
Yoongi looked like he was going to
start cursing at Jackson again, but then he swayed dangerously and leaned on
his shoulder, Jackson steadying him before he fell over. “I don’t know you.” He
said, blinking blearily at Jackson, who raised his eyebrows.
Yoongi shook his head. “I don’t
know you, but you’re being nice. Why?”
Jackson shrugged. “Because your
beautiful girlfriend would be sad if I treated you like shit.” Jackson waited
for Yoongi’s reaction. What he told Yoongi was partially true—it really would
upset you if he told Yoongi that he needed to straighten up and be kinder to
you, the guy already looked like he might cry whenever he looked at you—but
Jackson also had a soft spot for drunk people. That was probably why he was
always the designated driver; he didn’t mind other people’s strange drunk shenanigans,
and would just laugh and guide them home.
“Can I tell you something,
Jeffery?” Yoongi asked.
“Jackson. My name is Jackson. And
yes, you can.” Jackson was mostly holding Yoongi up now, and he was glad he was
such a slight man—otherwise they might have a problem.
“I don’t know what to do. I like
her, like, really really scary like
her. But I shouldn’t. So I just…” Yoongi sniffed, and Jackson nodded
sympathetically. So Yoongi was an emotional drunk.
You felt like you were dying. Your head was throbbing and you could barely move.
“Good morning sunshine.”
His voice was too loud and made your head hurt even more, burying your head under your pillow didn’t help either. At least it was Dylan and not some stranger. You saw a pale hand offer you something that looked like painkillers and a bottle of water so you took them and immediately hid under your blanket again. The bed dipped down a bit and your blanket was lifted. A warm body slipped in next to you but at the moment you couldn’t care less and curled towards the warmth. You really hoped you’d fall asleep soon.
When you woke up the throbbing had become bearable but still painful. You didn’t want to open your eyes in case the brightness of the room would hurt your eyes again so you cuddled closer to Dylan with your eyes closed. In the last few months you had snuggled up with Dylan in front of the tv enough to know when he was next to you. His warm arms tightened around you and he sighed.
You hummed in response, not feeling ready to talk yet.
“Does it still hurt when I talk?”
He whispered and it didn’t hurt so you shook your head a little.
“You really had me worried last night. You didn’t text or call only to come stumbling in at 3 in the morning sucking faces with some random asshole.”
His arms around you tightened some more. Dylan usually only became possessive when he was drunk or the Otters lost a game and he was blaming himself. You secretly prided yourself on the fact that you were the person that gave him comfort. Being roommates with a guy had its perks, but being roommates with a guy you liked… It wasn’t always easy.
Do you even know what time it is right now? // SHAWN MENDES
Once again I turned on my side and stared at the dark walls of our shared bedroom. We had gone to bed hours ago yet sleep just didn’t seem to succumb to me. I hated not being able to fall asleep and the hours that would be wasted by just laying there unable to get a wink of shut eye. Peeling one eye open, I checked the alarm clock. Bright green numbers of 3.12 stared right back at me.
Flipping onto my other side I stared at the exposed back of my boyfriend. I couldn’t help but admire the flat planes of his shoulder muscles and how it dipped and curved. Lifting a hand, I gently traced a track down his spine, watching as tiny goosebumps appeared in its wake. Can’t help but to smile, I found joy in being able to produce such a reaction out of him.
Sliding closer to him, I wrapped one arm around his waist while nuzzling my face softly into his back. I felt him move softly and for a second I thought he had woken up but when he didn’t move again, I let the thought go.
I didn’t know whether it was not being able to sleep that was making me so emotional but tears sprung into my eyes and leaked down my cheeks. When I felt Shawn move again I knew I had finally woken him up.
"Baby,“ I heard his rough voice murmur as he turned around to face me.
“Yeah?” I returned quietly, wishing that my voice didn’t sound as weak as I thought it did.
"Do you even know what time it is right now?“ Shawn drawled out to me.
"Its 3.12,” I said quietly. He chuckled, draping an arm around my waist and pulling me closer. There was a faint light coming through the windows, illuminating Shawn’s face and I rose my hand again to rest on his jawline. Rubbing his jaw softly, i could feel the tiny hint of stubble which would be gone after his shower. Then he noticed my tears.
"Whats wrong y/n?“ Shawn asked immediately.
"Nothin’. Just tired” I mumble.
“Why were you crying then?” He asked, pressing his forehead to mine as I wrapped one leg around his legs pulling him impossibly closer.
“Just stressed ‘cos I couldn’t fall asleep” I whisper into the crook of his neck where my head currently laid.
His hand was running through my hair, whether he noticed he was doing it or not.
"Want me to stay up until you fall asleep?“ Shawn murmurs softly.
"You have to go to the studio in about-” I look at the clock, “4 hours"
"I don’t mind baby, I want to make sure you get some rest” our gaze meets in the dim lighting.
“Will you sing to me?” I ask shyly tucking my head in his chest again.
"What song?“ Shawn asks, his fingers still tugging my hair gently.
"Bad reputation” I answer immediately and Shawn chuckles at my immediate response.
“Anything for you” he says and I feel myself fall into the black abscess of sleep as his voice softly fills the room. “She’s got a bad reputation..”