and its been a while since the last time he wore one

My friend learned the hard way to not answer the door to late night trick-or-treaters

by reddit user manen_lyset

We all have that one friend who’s not into the holidays. You know the one: won’t decorate, won’t dress up, won’t wish you a happy -whatever day it is-, and, though he’ll reluctantly agree to come to your themed party, he’ll stay in the back and scowl the whole time. In most cases, the hate is directed at just one holiday, whether it be Valentines, Christmas, Easter, or, hell, even arbor day. My friend Patrick? He hated Halloween with every fiber of his being.

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Forgotten (M)

Originally posted by mayfifolle

Summary: Loving Kim Taehyung was just so cruel, since he only saw you as his childhood friend. But after years of wanting him to return your affection, you finally saw the look of love shine on his eyes - but it wasn’t meant for you. No, it was meant for her…
Pairing: Taehyung x Reader
Genre: Smut, Angst, bestfriend!au, university!au
Word Count: 4.5k
A/N: Original request here . 


Loving Kim Taehyung was like treasuring a forbidden artifact – you could appreciate it and love it from afar, but you could never touch it, never have it – just stand still and admire from a distance. Just like the artifact, he was untouchable and you could never have him the way you always wished for. Why? Well that was because he was your best friend since you were toddlers, but that was it.

You two were inseparable. Always playing and working together, making your classmates assume that you two liked each other. Of course, every time that accusation was made, you’d both deny it while saying how gross it was – but even then you knew you were lying.

At the mere age of 14, you realized that you didn’t just have a silly little crush on him anymore, no, you had fallen deeply in love with him. But who didn’t? His affectious boxy smile and playful bright attitude attracted many people towards him over the years, much to your dismay. But Taehyung always brushed it aside, and kept his attention solely on you. That is, once you two entered high school, then it all changed for the worse.

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{PART 27} I Won’t Stop You // Jeon Jungkook, Vampire!AU

Originally posted by jengkook

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Genre: Vampire!AU, Fantasy, Angst, Smut

Summary; As death enters the room to claim a soul; so does life. Who shall live and who shall die - as you begin to wonder…is this really the end?

“And as he looked upon her face amidst the madness, he saw everything he held close depart his world; while she slipped into the next”

|| Warning: This chapter contains mentions of blood and some scenes that readers may find upsetting ||

I update this series every Tuesday evening, 9pm-10pm (UK Time)

{Part 1} // {Part 26} {Part 27} {Part 28}

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Without 🛋️

A/N: This piece is very long and has taken me a long time to write for several reasons. But I hope this is what these lovely people hoped for when they sent in their requests (x x x)! Love you all and I hope you have a great day :)

Harry had always been in awe of you.  

From the moment he had you in his life, his heart had been filled with your gentle compassion. He had admired your instinctive kindness, personally witnessing the way you’d give a piece of your heart to everyone in your life. “Being kind is all that I can give” he’d hear you say and it breaks him just a little when he watches your smile falter for a fraction of a second, before you arch your eyes and nod your head slightly towards him in reassurance. You’re doing it again, he gathers, putting up a front to satisfy the people around you. Making sure they remained lost in their pursuit of happiness while you’re left alone to pick up your own shattered pieces.

Harry had regretted that night the most. The first, of many, where your heart felt particularly heavy as you smiled and whispered “I’m fine” to his concerned eyes. The silk of your dress clumped at your shoulders as you walked away from him then, away from a night of celebrating your recent promotion at work and into a cab to nurse your friend that had gulped too much tequila to shove away his own misfortunate thoughts.

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Break Me [Draco x Reader, One]

A/N: Haha let me start off by saying I honestly don’t believe Draco would be the cheater type, but I love angst and I love Draco so ,,, Also!! Don’t know if anyone would be interested, but I’m probably going to make a separate Hamilton Imagine blog!! I love Hamilton and all the characters and all of the cast members! Anyways, enjoy!! Love you all!!

 

Word Count: 1,636

 

Warnings: Angst. Cheating. Self blame. Cursing.

 

Summary: (Name) gave everything to him, but he wasn’t willing to give back.

 

Requested: No lol im a jerk


Chapter Two / Three / Four / Five


Masterlist


Originally posted by daz-zling-bling

The sight of (Name) and Draco Malfoy turned heads. The mere thought of (Name) and Draco Malfoy turned heads.

(Name), perhaps the most loyal, caring, and kind girl anyone would ever know somehow ended up head over heels for Draco Malfoy. She would follow him around, a sweet smile never faltering. He would look pretty content with himself, arms linked with (Name’s) own. It didn’t take much to realize that (Name) was very attractive in a dreamy, almost fantasy like way. In fact, multiple men and women had asked for her affections. She only replied with a sweet smile and a polite rejection, claiming she already had a boyfriend.

Draco was no idiot. He knew that many people wished to have his girlfriend for themselves.

At first he merely got jealous at this. How dare someone fantasize over his girlfriend?!

As days grew into weeks, and weeks grew into months, his jealousy turned into pride. She was another thing he had that many people, including Harry Potter, didn’t have.

The two started off hopelessly in love. Starry eyes and rosy cheeks were exchanged. Longing looks and sweet messages were sent back and forth.

Over time, Draco became more and more distant. However, (Name) stayed the same, remaining completely infatuated with him. Draco, from a first glance, didn’t seem to be as in love with (Name) as she was with him. 


The First Month.

 

Of course, like many couples, (Name) and Draco had a phase where nothing else seemed to matter but the two of them and their love for each other. It was almost as if they couldn’t be apart from one another or they would fall ill.

“Draco! Draco, come here!” (Name) chirped with the same giddy smile playing at her cheeks.

“Yes? (Name), what is it? Are you injured?” His voice was frantic and shaky. (Name) laughed and shook her head. “No, silly!” She spread her arms out wide. “Come here!”

Draco did so with a smile, leaning into her embrace. “What is all this about?”

“Mmm… Nothing, really. I just wanted to cuddle you. I love you, you know?” Draco chuckled softly and wrapped his arms around her, closing his eyes and savoring the feeling of his beloved breathing softly into his chest. They didn’t seem to notice the dozens of students amongst them stare in disgust, envy, or even admiration.

“And I love you, (Name). Always.”


The Seventh Month.

 

While (Name) was in fact hopelessly, blindly in love, she was no idiot. She noticed when Draco avoided her affections or avoided her in general. She didn’t pay much attention to it, though. She assumed she was being clingy, and her herself was at fault. Sometimes the two would be together, a joyful smile ever present on (Name’s) face. But she noticed they only ever seemed to be affectionate around each other in front of crowds.

The thought that Draco may be using her crept in the back of her mind. He wouldn’t, would he?

No… He couldn’t. He loved her.

At least… That’s what she told herself.

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The Secret Book Club Part 6

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Content/Warnings: Flirting, boners, filthy cocktails, bump n grind and a very naughty Loki

Words: 2995

Prompt: LOKI X READER WHO SHARE BOOKS AND READ TO EACHOTHER AND LOTS OF FLUFF HHH THAT WOULD BE SO CUTE PLEASE

Two updates in one day to celebrate 700 followers!! Thank you all so much, I love every one of you! 😘 I think you all know what’s coming in the next update 😜 @notthisthyme the kraken is on its way 😜

@mrsethedreamqueen, @asometimestroubledmind, @undiscoveries, @ladydork, @thefallenbibliophilequote, @what-lies-within-us, @mymourningtea, @autistic-alien, @pixierox101, @whatsbetterthanfantasy, @sarcasmismysexuality, @allltheships, @mrsstarkpotter, @meunicorn, @weasley-parker, @constellationsolo, @graysonmalfoy, @prncesskte, @mi-draws, @trans-kid-trash, @thecaptainamerica16, @deafeninghighheels, @also-known-as-me, @riverdalerebel, @allyallyally-oh, @shahdaryu, @midnightsinger, @notthisthyme, @hiddlestoner3059, @daisydontforgetme, @say-my-name-assbut, @johnmurphys-sass, @scribbledoctopus, @colorcodedpeacockquills, @iamdauntleeess, @sunnydaisy420

Part one
Part two
Part three
Part four
Part five
Part seven (NSFW)

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“New Kind of Love” Part 1

                                        ❝Risky Business❞

Summary: (Modern Day AU) Bucky Barnes is just another frat boy, with great looks to serve and a carefree vibe. And you’re just another good girl, with good grades and pastel pink vibes. How could two people be so different, yet perfect for each other?

Prompt: You’re my crush and you came over to my dorm with your friend. In the middle of the visit, I realize you were flirting with me. At the end of the visit, I realize you’re flirting with me to make your crush jealous | AU

Pairing: frat boy!Bucky x Reader

Word Count: 1990

Warnings: none for now

Author’s Note: new fic!!! finally, i got some time to put this thought together, although i’m posting the intro, this fic won’t be updated as frequently, since i have my midterms exams are coming up. so don’t ask for updates, please. taglist is open! 

special shoutout to, Carolina (@sanjariti) for helping me edit this, you’re the best, wifey <3 also, thanks to my sweet summer child, Ari (@whyisbuckyso) for coming up with a decent summary ily 

‘New Kind of Love’ Masterlist | Main Masterlist

(gif is not mine)

“I thought you said you didn’t want to come here,” Your dorm roommate, Wanda teased you as she dropped down on the couch you were sitting on. She must have caught you bobbing your head to the rhythm of whatever music that’s been blasting through the room. She sat so close to you, you could smell the stench of alcohol and sweat oozing from her body. But maybe it’s not her, just the air in this frat house. Her tight dress showed off all her best assets, and best thing is she wasn’t even shy. Wanda rests her head on the armrest of the couch, her exposed neck showcasing the dragon tattoo inked over the skin.

“No, that’s not what I said,” you defended yourself, looking at her.

“I couldn’t wipe that fucking frown off your face until I promised to help you clean the room.” She said, yet again teasing you.

“Technically, it was a bribe.”

“Which you took,” she was fast on the reply, smirking lazily.

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Knuckles: Boxer!Ashton (Part 3)

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six | Part Seven  | Part Eight  | Part Nine

[Following anyone/everyone who leaves some form of thoughtful feedback x]

- Knuckles Playlist


Pulling up.

Coming down x

You take a final look in the vanity mirror, adjusting bits of your done-up hair to reach a balanced mixture of messy yet elegant. There’s a certain strand that’s been having a time taunting you all day, springing from it’s bobbypin every chance it gets, and you decide to just gift it the freedom it’s worked so hard for, removing the clip at the last second and dropping it on the dresser. Black tie events are far from your forté, but you’re trying your best to play the part for Ashton. The last time you wore a dress this long or heels this high had to be your senior prom, and the jitters in your stomach make you feel like you’re getting ready for it all over again: nervous to see your date, paranoid about something going wrong, trying too hard to impress people you don’t know. At least this time you can look forward to alcohol being there.

You grab your phone and a clutch full of necessities before heading out the door, slowly making your way down the steps as you’re reminded how difficult it is to walk in heels. Whose bright idea was it to invent these things? They’ll be kicked off by the end of the night, no doubt. Your feet are already starting to hate you.

At the edge of the sidewalk a tall figure awaits your descent. He’s sporting a classic black and white tuxedo perfectly tailored to accentuate his striking physique, a thin tie hung from the collar rather than a bow. It’s quite a contrast to the athletic shorts and t-shirts you’re used to seeing him in, but you definitely aren’t complaining. The mop of brown curls that usually fall over his eyes have been trimmed and styled for the occasion, and the two week old beard he claimed he was too lazy to shave has disappeared from his chiseled face, cleaning him up significantly. Ashton has always been more of the ruggedly handsome type to you; the kind of person who looks his best straight after rolling out of bed in the morning. However this new side of him, one so sharp and expensive, inflicts serious damage to your will power, and it takes every ounce of your conscious control to not just blow off the event and drag him straight back up to your apartment.

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You Are Mine (M)

BTS; Jungkook

Genre: Smut | Some angst | College AU

Word count: 8,269

WARNINGS: Rough smut, light bondage, and breath play

A/N: @namsjxms This is special for you. Please don’t fly up here and strangle me. I’m going to shower in holy water after writing this 8k of rough JK smut. I hope you all like it! and sorry it was late….. I suck.

Originally posted by jungxook


You stared at his noticeably muscular back in class every single day for the last two weeks, or rather it stared at you in a way. Jeon Jungkook was the most popular guy on campus, but you refused to fall into him like every other girl. They fawned over him like a puppy abandoned on the street. It didn’t matter if you paid attention to him or not, because he had whatever girl he chose for the night.

You couldn’t help, but think about his muscular arms though, wrapping you in their embrace.

You shook the thoughts from your head and scoffed at the thought. That boy is nothing but trouble and you would make sure to steer clear of that at tonight’s party to celebrate the end of a semester and the beginning of summer break.

“If you stop staring, I’ll give you what you want.” Your thoughts are broken from you once more as you looked up and see his deep brown eyes staring back into yours. It brought you back to that day that he sat next to you a week and a half ago.


“What do you want perv boy? Why are you sitting so close to me? There are plenty of seats over there,” you pointed in the direction of four empty seats beside him.

“I wanted to sit next to the prettiest girl in class ya know?” Such sly words, you knew he was up to something, but before you could shoot something back at him the teacher started the lecture of the day.

You mind wandered from the lesson, did he really think you were attractive or were those just words to lure you into his trap? Surely they were empty. There’s no way a guy like that would ever go after you, but what if he was? Maybe he was bet by someone. You were definitely not going to let him get in your head, but hadn’t you already? You turned back to your notebook and started to take notes on the lecture to get your mind off of him.

Suddenly, you jumped at the feeling of something warm on your thigh, moving quickly upward under your skirt before you could muster up a scream. Your body froze as your eyes looked over to see Jungkook staring down at his notebook writing his notes and you trailed your eyes down his other arm that was connected to the hand resting at the hem of your panties now. You saw him slightly glance up at you and a small smirk tugged at his lips.

“Jungkook! What the hell are you doing?” your screams were hushed in order not to draw attention, but enough so he could hear the intensity in your voice. Your hand meekly tried to brush away his hand from your thigh, but his grip tightened. It was so firm that it was sure to bruise.

“I’m just doing my lesson quietly Y/N. You should do the same,” his words burned into your ears as his fingers came in contact with your core over your soaking panties. Why were you so wet for this fuckboy? His middle finger jolted you from your thoughts as it pressed hard over your clothed clit, rubbing slow circles over it. Your eyes fluttered shut at the feeling as your lips parted slightly and let out a small sigh.

“I’m so glad you decided to sit in the back today Y/N. I’ve been wanting to do this all week,” his words came out quietly against your ear. “But you need to stay quiet like a good girl, or I’ll have to punish you for letting all these people hear your beautiful moans.”

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Dear Mummy

I’m honest with you guys; I cannot deny that I have not cried a bit while writing this! Some of you will probably hate me but just know I do it already myself! :D In this story Harry and Beau are a family! I really hope you like it! And leave some feedback behind!!! And let me know if you cried :D (Picture is not mine!!!)


Harry went up the stairs to his daughter’s bedroom to check up on her and to kiss her goodnight at the same time. She suspiciously went to bed earlier than she normally would do. Also the whole day she was acting strange. Harry noticed that Beau was quite still after he got her from school if you consider how talkative she normally is. As he asked her about it, she just shrugged her shoulders, telling him she was absolutely fine but just exhausted by her day. Harry didn’t bring up the topic again because he didn’t want to pressure her, if she wanted to talk she would tell him, but he was clearly sure that something must have made her upset.

He slowly opened the door to his daughter’s room and was surprised as the lights on the ceiling were still on. His eyes searched for the little girl and he found her lying in her bed, her back turned towards him.  

“Bub, are you still awake?” He asked quietly however he got no answer from her side. It was very quiet in the room, so quiet that you probably could have heard a pin falling onto the ground. Frowning, he moved closer to her bed and when he was close enough he discovered that her shoulders were slightly shaking, followed by a heavy sob escaping from her mouth. Beau could not hide her façade forever, not from her dad who knew if something was wrong with her and finally broke down in front of him. Everything she had gone through a few hours ago was crushing onto her like a heavy brick.

Harry instantly tore her from her lying state as he cradled her on his lap, pressing her firmly against his chest as he gave her countless kisses on her forehead. The young girl held onto him like he was her only living source and so many tears were falling from her eyes as she cried. Harry had never seen his daughter so upset before.

“It’s okay, bub…” He tried to soothe her, running his hand through her long curly hair that she inherited from her daddy. “Wanna tell me why you’re crying?” He took her young face between his warm hands and caught every falling tear with his thumbs. Seeing his little girl in this state made him want to cry himself. Harry could never stand seeing his loved ones suffering, especially not his princess. He would tear down the entire planet if that meant that he could see her smile again. By now he just noticed the fluffy teddy bear under her left arm and he could only assume what it was about. She only cuddled against her that specific toy when she was missing a certain person. A person she loved with her whole heart as much as Harry did. Because it was a gift from her.

They were sitting in this position, father and daughter holding each other, until Beau’s crying died down slightly and her breathing became normal again. Her eyes met her father’s gentle green ones and she somewhat lowered her gaze in shame. She hated crying, crying made her weak and vulnerable but it was a human thing. No one could suppress their feelings forever. Beau just wanted to be Harry’s strong little girl and not a whiny little thing.

“I’m sorry, daddy…” She sniffled.

“There is no reason to be sorry, princess. You know it’s normal to cry sometimes. Now, what happened? What made you so upset, hmm?”

Only the thought about the event that went on earlier caused new tears appearing in her eyes. She did not want to think about it anymore but the wound that had been caused was too fresh for her to ignore. She was just a little girl. How could she deal with pain properly?

“Aww beautiful, just speak to me. I’m here for you, you know that.” He kissed her forehead again to encourage her. Beau took a deep breath, but her voice still sounded very shaky.

“T-today in s-school Mrs. Riley suggested preparing a little gift for mother’s day. She said this time we should send them to our mummy’s instead of giving it to them personally. Then, o-one of the mean girls just said how I wanted to send my gift to mummy since there’s no mailman for heaven. A-and they made fun of me the entire d-day. Even though our teacher warned them and told them how disrespectful their words are, they still didn’t stop. Macy told me that mummy did not love me, that’s why she left and she is probably happy where she is without me.”  She began to sob again. “Is that true, daddy? Is that why she left us? Is that why I have no mummy anymore?”

Anger boiled in Harry’s veins and he wanted nothing more than to scream at the children who bullied his little girl and planted nonsense into her innocent mind. He wanted to yell at their parents for raising bad-mannered children who just had no idea what he and Beau had gone through the past year. How could they make fun of a little girl who just involuntarily lost her mother? This is not only disrespectful towards Beau but also his wife. Harry clenched his teeth in rage but tried to keep his composure. That was not the best time to freak out in front of her.

“Never, munchkin.” Harry said hoarsely. “You’re classmates were being very mean to you. They just have no idea. Mummy loved you from the bottom of her heart and she would have never left you voluntarily. You were the most important person in her life and she loved being a mother to you.”

“Then why did she die, daddy? Why did she leave us?”

“Because heaven needed her, you know? Heaven always needs the most beautiful humans in the entire world.”

Beau buried her face in the crook of his neck. “But I need her too, daddy. I want mummy back and I miss her.”

He sighed. “I know, little one. I miss her too but one day, I promise we’ll see her again and we’ll never leave each other. Never again. We’ll be happy forever and ever. Just you and mummy and I. But I want you to know something and keep this forever in your mind. You will always have a mother, no matter if she’s here or not, mummy will always be your mummy, okay? Because if it wasn’t for mummy, you wouldn’t be here. There is no way you can’t have a mummy.”

He took her tiny hand into his and led it between her chest. “As long as you keep her here, mummy will always be there. She’ll never leave us, bub. She’s watching over us and protects us from bad things.” He bent forward to place another soft kiss onto her forehead. “Now, no more crying love, alright? I bet mummy wouldn’t want us to be sad.”

Beau responded by only nodding her head. Harry laid her back into her bed carefully and stayed beside her as long as she needed him to be with her. She asked him if he could tell her stories about the past which Harry gladly complied and the more he told her about him and his wife the more in love he felt with her. And actually, this was the most painful thing. To love somebody unconditionally but not be able to show it. When Beau finally fell asleep with a smile on her lips and cuddling her teddy bear, Harry gave her a one last kiss on her cheek and covered her up tightly so she wouldn’t catch a cold in the night.

The weather was a bit windy and rainy recently and he wanted to prevent her of becoming sick.

He closed the door carefully behind him and made his way back downstairs. He was still beyond mad and if something like this should happen again, he would not hesitate to make the responsible person’s life a living hell. What the fuck was just wrong with the world nowadays? Harry could not understand.

Taking a bottle of wine and a matching glass from the kitchen, Harry sat down on the couch in his living room. He felt the pain that he tried to suppress for almost one year now creeping its way onto the surface. How many nights had he just spent crying himself to sleep, just wishing it all was a dream? How many times had he just insulted and cursed at the drunken man who just took the love of his life away from him? How many times had he just wished that it was the man who painfully met death’s eye instead of his love? It took him so much strength, so many therapy sessions and so much compassion to come the point where he was now. Acceptance. Even though it was too hard, Harry had to accept that she was gone. Gone physically but never emotionally. Sometimes, Harry could tell he felt her close nearby, often hearing her voice and this made him question his mental health.

Pouring a bit of wine into his glass and taking a gulp out of it, Harry just decided to rummage through some family albums that he had not touched since the incident one year ago. The pain was still fresh back then and he didn’t dare to look into them in fear that he might break.

He randomly just opened one page and the picture he saw took his breath away. There she was, his beautiful wife smiling happily at him. Harry still remembered taking the picture like it was yesterday. They had been at a family wedding and she was 8 months pregnant with Beau. Harry remembered how stunning she looked and that he could not tear his eyes away from her the entire day. All his attention was on her. She wore a slight pink evening dress that Harry had the privilege of choosing it for her. Pink was the new black for him and he was proud of finding a perfect dress for her that she also liked.

She smiled happily at the camera, her one hand being placed protectively over her belly as if she was afraid something could happen to their unborn baby while she steadied her other hand on her waist. She wore a floral wreath on her perfectly made hair and her beauty shone brighter than the sun. She was so excited to become a mother that her happiness radiated out of her. Harry wished he could turn back to that time, just to see her that happy again.

A tear dropped on his hand as he traced the outline of her flawless face. “I miss you, darling.” He sniffled, wiping away the tears that followed after the first one. “I love you so much, my perfect wife.”

How much he wished she was there with him. Holding her tight was what he wanted, kissing her soft lips was what he desired and loving on her was what he longed for.

Countless times he just asked himself what he had done that fate and life at the same time punished him with that kind of pain. Harry was always kind and respectful and supportive however life just rewarded him with the worst. Life had kind of been unfair to him and Harry had no clue why.

When Harry got the call from the hospital, being told that his wife was involved in a car crash, his whole world fell apart. He wasted no time and rushed to the hospital with a racing heart but unfortunately it was too late.  All he found was a soulless corpse of his wife and doctors who wished him their deepest condolences. He dropped on his knees, cried and screamed until he had no voice anymore. Harry couldn’t even remember how he made out of that hospital that fateful night, or how he could make it through the funeral. His inside was numb the entire time. He never wanted to feel any emotion again.

Another problem was how he could just tell his little girl about her mother’s passing. It was definitely the biggest challenge in his entire life. Seeing his little Beau mourning over the loss of her mother tore his heart apart even though he was convinced that there was no heart left anymore. His wife took his heart a long time ago. He never wanted to see Beau in that state ever again. He had to be strong for the sake of his own health and especially for Beau. They got all the support they needed and life was getting a bit easier from time to time. But it would never be the same.

Turning the pages over, he looked at the next photos, often smiled or even cried at some point. All these moments that were pictured on them crushed onto him heavily but Harry gladly accepted them. Remembering all these beautiful moments he was able to spend with his wife and Beau; that was something he was proud of having the pleasure to experience it with them.

The last picture and the more recent one was taken last year a few months before the accident. Harry took his family on a vacation to the Maldives and they spent some wonderful family time over there. Their last one as a complete family. All three of them were smiling into the camera, Harry laying his arms lovingly and protectively over his wife’s shoulder while she had Beau pressed against her chest. They looked like a perfect family which they truly were. Harry had never been in love with somebody that much before.

When his wife came into his life, he learned another side of love. A love that he would have died for.  From the first moment he laid his eyes on her, he already knew that she was the one he wanted to spend a life time with. And when he found out about her death, he wished it was him who died that night. He would have sacrificed himself if that meant that she could live.

“I really hope you’re fine wherever you are, angel.” He whispered into nothingness. “We miss you so much but I know that you are patiently waiting for us and I cannot wait to have you in my arms again. I swear I will never let you go, love. I love you. More than you’ll ever know.” With these words snapped the album shut and put it back into its place.

In that night, Harry felt more at ease as if his wife was lying right beside him and covering him with her warmth.

A few weeks later, when mother’s day finally arrived, Harry and Beau found themselves in the cemetery. Beau had made something special for her mother and was very excited to lay it onto her grave. Harry had bought the prettiest roses that he could find and it honestly was a huge bouquet that he carried along with him. His wife only should get the best from the best.

When they were standing in front of her grave, Beau let go of his hand and slowly walked towards the space where her mother was resting. She carefully laid her gift onto the grave.

“I love you mummy.” She said quietly. “I hope you like my present for you. I worked really hard on it.”

“Happy mother’s day, my darling.” Harry said, placing the large bouquet carefully next to his daughter’s present. His fingers traced over the cold grave stone where his wife’s name was written on. “We love you dearly and we miss you.”

Beau also placed a little note next to her present. Written by a little girl’s hand, it says:

  To the loveliest angel from all angels, my dear mummy.

Heights

Originally posted by wonderlandgirlforever

Peter Parker x Shy/Scared Reader

Summary: Even though Peter’s been busy with saving the world, you’ve been feeling neglected and unwanted. He notices and decides to do something fun to cheer you up. 

Word Count: 2,453 (my longest one so far, holla)

Warnings: heights, panic attack, language, fluff, sad stuff. Let me know if I missed any. 

A/N: Alrrright guys, hopefully this turns out okay. I was thinking about making this into a series depending on how much you guys dig it. If you do, then I will post all about what I’m going to do for the series to see if you guys are interested. Sound good? As always, feedback is definitely appreciated. I never get any, so I don’t know what I’m doing wrong or right. Enjoy!


Ever since Peter told you he was the big ‘ol Spiderman, it felt like your guys’ weekly hangouts and movie nights were coming to an end. Of course you understand that he’s saving the world and stopping the bad guys, but it leaves you worried and afraid for his well being. He always seems distracted around you and it fills you with a darkness. Telling Peter would make you seem selfish, so you bury it, hoping it won’t poke its way through. 

Being the shy, reserved, person you are, you definitely had difficulty talking to Peter, especially since you’ve always had a never ending crush on him. After a while of trying to ask him if he could hang out, you stopped. It wasn’t worth the pain of going through to only be rejected once again. 

However, what you didn’t know was that Peter noticed you putting up your walls again. He didn’t want to lose you and decided he was definitely going to do something about it. Starting tonight

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Supertuned

Ok, so this is a imagine that I’ve had in my head for a while now. Enjoy, My Lovelies. xx

Tag list: @hamartiamacguffin @illisea @thegreatficmaster @lovemesomepie85 @torn-and-frayed

If you want me to add you to my tag list, shoot me through a message and let me know. 

Dean looked up as the Y/C/H hunter walked into the viewing room. Her hair fell loosely around her face, the soft Hollywood curls framing it perfectly. His eyes wandered over her body, the way her jeans hugged her arse perfectly, the black tank she wore that was slightly see through, the deep red bra underneath that showed off some of her best assets. Her silver cross hung down over the top of her breasts, the diamonds shining in the light. Her heels clicked on the polished concrete floor, he glanced down at the ankle boots, that was a new looked. The look was Y/N all over, but a sexed up Y/N. He frowned at the duffels in her hand.

‘Hunt?’

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You look so good in blue

Richie has never had a favourite colour.

Not like his friend Ben, who’s favourite colour was orange like Beverly’s hair, or his friend Stan who’s favourite colour was light grey like the feathers on a mockingbird. No, Richie has never had a favourite colour.

That’s why tonight Richie was wearing a white shirt. Nothing fancy. He usually wore bright obnoxiously patterned Hawaiian shirts, but he knew if he showed up in one of them that Eddie would kill him. Literally, he would murder Richie. He might be small but wow, he had a firey temper on him.

So a white shirt it was. Along with his nicest pair of jeans, and an attempt to style his unruly hair. Richie noted to himself that this was probably the most effort he’d ever voluntarily put into his appearance.

Richie checked his reflection in the window of his car, attempting - and failing - to flatten his hair, before giving up and turning around to face the house in front of him.

He knew this house. He had been in this house a million times. He probably spent more time in this house growing up than he had in his own. This was nothing new.

Taking a deep breath, Richie allowed himself to move forward, to walk up the driveway to the familiar house. He raised his hand to knock on the door, but before he could, it swung open.

Richie’s heart stopped. This was it, this was the moment he had been waiting for since he was eleven and now here he was and he was probably going to die of cardiac arrest.

“Eddie…” Richie said, his voice barely audible. For the first time in his life, Richie was at a loss for words.

“Hi Richie,” Eddie said shyly, standing on his tiptoes to kiss Richie on the cheek. “Let me just grab my keys and then we can go, okay?”

Richie just nodded dumbly, his brain not being able to generate a response right now.

He watched Eddie disappear back inside his house, then watched him reappear a few seconds later, keys in hand. He stepped outside and pulled the door shut, locking it behind him.

“You ready to go?” Eddie asked, turning to face him.

Richie looked at Eddie, taking in his appearance fully. The shorter boy wore a pale blue sweater with black skinny jeans and light blue converse. Atop his head, perched on perfect brunette waves, was a pastel blue flower crown.

“Richie? Are you okay? You’re just staring at me and not saying anything?” Eddie asked nervously, reaching out to grab Richie’s hand and threading their fingers together.

Richie looked at their entwined hands. Eddie’s fingernails were painted blue.

Richie felt a surge of love for the boy in front of him.

“Of course I’m alright Eddie Spaghetti, I’m here with you aren’t I?” Richie asked, a smirk on his face as he used their joint hands to pull Eddie in close to him. Their chests were pressed together and Eddie was looking up at Richie, their faces just inches apart.

Eddie pulled his hand away from Richie’s, and looped both his arms around Richie’s neck. Richie wrapped his arms around Eddie’s lower back and pulled him in impossibly closer so that they were pressed together completely.

“You’re such a dork,” Eddie said affectionately, his eyes flicking from Richie’s eyes to his lips, and then back.

“Maybe…but I’m your dork,” Richie replied, leaning down to catch Eddie’s lips in a kiss.

Eddie responded eagerly, moving his mouth against Richie’s in a practiced motion. Richie ran his tongue along Eddie’s bottom lip, and Eddie opened his mouth, allowing Richie to deepen the kiss. Eddie only pulled away when he felt one of Richie’s hands move from his back and slide into the back pocket of Eddie’s jeans.

“Mm-Richie,” Eddie mumbled against the other boy’s lips, pulling away from the kiss. Richie chased his lips and pressed another kiss against them. “Richie. We. Should. Go.” Eddie said, in between quick kisses.

“But this is so funnn” Richie whined, pressing his forehead against Eddie’s.

Eddie just rolled his eyes and unwrapped his arms from around Richie’s neck, and grabbed Richie’s hand to pull him towards the car.

“Later” Eddie promised with a wink, and Richie’s heart stopped for the second time that night.

Kissing Eddie, now that was nothing new to Richie. He and Eddie had been doing, well they had been doing whatever it is that they do for a few weeks now, ever since the day that Eddie had pressed his lips against Richie’s as they stood on top of the cliff at the quarry.

He and Eddie had been the last ones left to jump down into the water, Eddie having being hesitant to jump as usual.

“Live a little, Eds,” Richie had told him. Eddie had turned to look at him, then marched forward with determination. He had reached up and threaded his fingers through Richie’s hair, using it to pull his head down and then he had kissed Richie firmly, and without warning.

The kiss had lasted all of 3 seconds before Eddie had pulled away.

“Don’t call me Eds,” He had said, then turned and ran towards the cliff, jumping off without hesitation for the first time.

Richie had stood, shocked for a second, before shouting out in happiness. Then he had ran after Eddie and jumped off of the cliff into the water below.

But now, as Richie sat in his car, Eddie in the passenger seat, Richie wasn’t sure how to act.

Yeah, he was the one who had asked Eddie out on a date. And Eddie had blushed and smiled shyly and said, ‘yes, of course he would go out with Richie, he thought he would never ask.’

When Eddie had opened the door, its like a floodgate had been opened in Richie’s mind. Thoughts of them holding hands in the hallway, thoughts of them celebrating anniversaries, thoughts of them leaving this shithole of a town together. It made Richie nervous.

“Are you okay?” Eddie asked him, disrupting Richie from his thoughts.

“Yeah I’m good” Richie replied, with a smile that Eddie returned. Richie reached over to rest his hand on Eddie’s thigh, winking at him when he raised an eyebrow. Eddie just rolled his eyes.

It didn’t take long for them to reach their destination, Richie pulling over to park while Eddie peered out the window.

“We’re going for ice cream?” Eddie asked, his face lighting up with a smile.

Richie nodded, a fond expression on his face as he watched Eddie get excited. He had chosen this for their date because it’s something that they had done since they were young, but they hadn’t been in a while as just the two of them.

“Come on now, Eddie Spaghetti, the night is young and so are we!” Richie exclaimed, putting on his best southern accent.

“Beep beep Richie,” Eddie said, climbing out of the car and adjusting the flower crown on his head.

Richie did the same, locking the car door and slinging his arm around Eddie’s shoulders. They walked into the ice cream shop like this, parting ways when Eddie went to sit in a booth and Richie walked up to the counter to order.

“Bubblegum, right?” Richie called out to Eddie.

“Yep!” Eddie replied, without turning around.

Richie ordered it, and he ordered a chocolate cone for himself. He paid and went to join Eddie in the booth.

“Here you go babe” Richie said, handing Eddie the ice cream.

Eddie raised his eyebrow, but didn’t say anything. It wasn’t the first time that Richie had called Eddie an affectionate name like babe, or baby, but it was the first time that he had done it without Eddie’s lips on his neck, or without Eddie’s hands under his shirt.

The two boys talked whilst they ate their ice cream. It was no different to any other time that they hung out, but both boys were more aware of every flirty comment, of every lingering touch.

Richie was so much more aware of the way that Eddie’s eyes lit up when he laughed, of the way Eddie’s hair curled around his ears.

And god was he aware of the way that Eddie’s tongue was flicking out to lick his ice cream, and the way Eddie was purposely making eye contact with him while he did it.

“Eddie you have, um,” Richie started “You have ice cream, on your um, lip,” he mumbled, gesturing to the blue smudge on Eddie’s bottom lip.

“Oh, do I?” Eddie brought his hand up to wipe at his lip, completely missing the area that the ice cream was on.

“No, here, let me,” Richie said, and leaned in to kiss Eddie. He swiped his tongue along Eddie’s lip, and then pulled back. “There, got it.”

“Thanks” Eddie whispered, his cheeks dusted with a pink blush.

Richie looked at him, at the blue flower crown on his head, and his lips stained blue.

Richie had a favourite colour, he realised. His favourite colour was blue.

Home is where the heart is

It was pouring with rain when Steve arrived outside the tower. Typical. He’d only just showered, and now he probably smelt like wet dog all over again.

Well. It was better than blood and dirt, he figured with a small, exhausted sigh.

The mission had been long and tiring and ultimately worthless. They’d lost anyway- too many people had died for it to be anything worth celebrating. Steve could still see some of their faces if he thought about it too hard- looking at him, pleading with him.
The journey back had been rough on everyone.

He felt tired. Bone-deep weariness that was difficult to shake. It clung to him like the rain did; sticking in his hair, coating his clothes with coldness. He just wanted to curl up and sleep- let the storm pass over his head until he awoke and it had all dissipated again. And more than anything, he wanted Tony.

Tony always helped.


Pushing his card in the door and opening it with a sophisticated swish, Steve slipped through quietly, shaking off his hair as he did so to try and dislodge some of the raindrops. He was wearing a SHIELD uniform after his Cap one had been destroyed, and it felt a little too tight, a little uncomfortable. It obviously hadn’t been designed by someone who knew his body as intimately as Tony did- knew the lines and divots he’d traced with his hands countless times.

God, Steve had missed him.

Coming back home was always nice. Warm. Lovely. It was hard (although not impossible) to feel glum when he knew what was waiting for him upstairs. It was a bit of a gamble as to what exactly he got- whether it be a Norse God or an Archer or all of them at once- but Steve didn’t mind. They were all family to him anyway.
Even if they did piss him off to the ends of the earth some days.

As he wandered into the elevator and pressed his finger against the button up to the penthouse, he heard JARVIS greet him with a soft ‘welcome back, Captain Rogers- the tower has missed you’ and smiled automatically. He loved hearing JARVIS’ voice- it was like the first sign of home. Wherever there was a JARVIS, a Tony wasn’t far behind.

Good.

“Who’s about?” Steve asked through a yawn, hoisting his kitbag a little higher on his shoulder.

“Only Mr Barton and Sir, currently- although Barton is down at the archery range in the basement and seems preoccupied, and sir appears to be napping in the living room.”

Steve nodded, feeling the tiny shift that signified they had come to a stop. “Thank you,” he told JARVIS politely.

“You’re very welcome- it is a pleasure to have you back in the building. Sir’s sleeping patterns have become increasingly irregular since your departure, and from my initial scans, so have yours. It will be nice to bring some balance back into the world.”

Steve huffed, and then the doors slipped open with barely a sound and suddenly, he was back on solid ground again. The penthouse floor span out around him- the kitchen somewhere off in the left and the large open-plan living room directly ahead of him- and Steve felt his face split into a content little beam of relief.

He loved coming home. That was his favourite part of missions.

Padding forward, he made his way to the living room. The TV was on, but turned down to an almost silent volume, and the couches appeared empty. Far off to the right, the windows of the tower glistened and tapped with the sound of rain against their panes. It was quiet. Peaceful.

Steve sighed in relief. Much as he loved his friends, he didn’t think he would have been able to handle loudness just then.

He reached the back of the biggest couch and placed a hand over it, spotting the figure curled up against the pillows immediately as he did so. Drenched in a jumper five sizes too big for him, hair a mess and face relaxed peacefully, was Tony. He must have taken a nap whilst waiting for Steve.

It was adorable, and Steve found himself unable to stop smiling. Yeah- coming home. Definitely the best part.

He was quiet as he slipped around the armrest and then slid to his knees in front of Tony’s face, hand slowly rising to stroke softly across Tony’s cheek, into the thick hair. Curled up like that; Tony seemed so small, so vulnerable, and it made a burst of protectiveness and sheer, pure love erupt in Steve’s heart. He found often after particularly trying Ops, that he became a little more attached to Tony, if only for a few days. Those sort of things just… made a guy think. Remember exactly what he had to lose.

In his sleepy haze, Tony instinctively rose up and pressed his face against Steve’s palm, a half-smile forming across his mouth as he hummed happily. Steve’s stomach twisted- and it was almost funny, the fact that Tony could still give him butterflies, all these years in.

“Hey, love.”

Steve kept his hand in Tony’s hair as the man slowly woke; his eyes fluttering open and spotting Steve immediately. Steve just continued to let his fingers play against Tony’s nape, against the adorable curls that looped across the back of his head when it went too long without a cut.

“Steve?” Tony asked sleepily, as his brain finally kicked into gear.

“Yeah, sweetheart, I’m back. Sorry I took so long- you know how it is,” Steve whispered, even though there was no-one there to hear them and barely any other noise in the tower aside from the staccato beat of rain against glass.

Tony paused for a moment, eyes drinking in Steve and his tired face, his wet hair, his badly-fitted clothes. Then he rubbed a sleeved hand over his eye and yawned, the other set of fingers curling softly around the collar of Steve’s jacket. “C’mere, baby,” he muttered, still half-asleep.

“Tony, I’m soaking w-”

“Don’t care. Wanna cuddle. Deal.”

Steve couldn’t help but laugh as Tony tugged him forward, manoeuvred him so that Steve was lying against Tony’s chest with his arms curled loosely around his waist- all while the man was still half asleep. It didn’t even seem as if Tony had properly woken up at all, and that was definitely an indicator as to how little the man had been sleeping since Steve had been away.

Well. He could rectify that later.

Tony’s nose scrunched adorably as Steve’s wet hair touched his chin, and Steve was about to move away, but Tony just made a noise of disapproval and clutched tighter, wrapping his arms stubbornly around Steve’s shoulders and sticking his whole face into the blonde wetness without another complaint. Steve just laughed again. “God, I love you,” he said softly, placing his greeting kiss against the plating of the reactor, “I love you so much.”

Again Tony just hummed and curled himself tighter around Steve. “Missed you so much,” he mumbled, and Steve couldn’t see, but he’d bet their joint fortune that Tony was pouting at that moment.

His hand curled around Tony’s; finger tracing feather-light against the slightly faded gold band Tony wore. “Go back to sleep, darling,” he whispered, shutting his own eyes even as he said it.

One last time, Tony gave his little hum, and then immediately after Steve felt him switch off again, his hands still curled tight around Steve. He was like that, sometimes- unable to sleep even if you fed him horse tranquillisers some days, and out like a light as soon as you said the word on others. Steve preferred the latter- less hassle, after all.

He sighed in contentment, and felt a little bit of the tension drain from his shoulders. 
He was home. Tony was there. The couch was warm and the weather was dreadful and they were both there, safe inside, watching the rain from against the panes of glass as it fell quietly around them.

He was home.


Slowly, his eyes fluttered shut, and his breathing levelled with Tony’s.

November Third (part three)

as always, for @o0o-chibaken-o0o. may her birthday last many days.

bingo l part one l part two l part three l part four l part five l part six l part seven l updates to come…

Draco was furious. First, that wild animal of Hagrid’s had attacked him - and he still had the sling to prove it even if it wasn’t completely necessary - and second, one of the horrid nifflers that same oaf had brought onto school grounds had ambushed Draco and stolen the shiny Malfoy crest pin right off his robes.

If his father found out he had lost the pin, he would be in the deepest pools of absolute shitville. It was an heirloom worth more than Hagrid’s entire life, if the pathetic hut he had followed the niffler into was any indication.

He could hear the stupid creature - it almost sounded like it was laughing at him - but he couldn’t see it. Where was the damn thing? He cast stunning spells around the cabin recklessly, waiting for the stupid noise to stop so he could rescue his pin. But no matter where he cast, the creature’s laughter continued.

Draco hastily tucked his wand away, picking up one of Hagrid’s oversized chairs instead and throwing it across the room for good measure. “This is not happening,” he muttered to himself. “This is absolute - “

“Caught you at a bad time, Malfoy?” Interrupted a very familiar voice from behind Draco.

“Get stuffed, Potter,” Draco responded without even looking around. “I’m not in the mood to deal with you.” Although he knew that wouldn’t be the end of it. He’d been trashing Potter’s favourite teacher’s house - it was all too likely the encounter would end in a one-handed duel. For the first time, he regretted insisting Madam Pomfrey put his arm in a sling.

Sure enough. Potter jumped straight into accusations: “What do you think you’re doing in here?” There was anger in his voice of course - Potter’s temper was a precarious thing - but glee too - clearly at the excitement of catching Draco out.

Draco swivelled around and leant back on Hagrid’s table - better to be facing his opponent when the first curse was cast. “One of that half-breed’s nifflers is what - “

“His name is Hagrid,” interrupted Potter in the cold, serious voice he reserved for showing off what a flawless, noble prick he was.

“Whatever,” Draco said dismissively, because he knew better than to fight the point when Potter used that voice. Rage fuelled Potter’s power and Draco did not feel like being on the receiving end of a bombarda disguised as an expelliarmus right now. “One of his nifflers has stolen my Malfoy crest pin and if I - “

“You have a Malfoy crest pin?”

Draco didn’t appreciate Potter’s condescending tone so he bit back. “Of course. You would’t understand since you don’t have a family.”

Potter didn’t even flinch at the quip. He wandering into the hut, assessing the damage Draco had made. “You really need some new material,” he said calmly over his shoulder as he picked up the thrown chair, but Draco could see the white of Potter’s knuckles quite clearly.

“Perhaps if I wasn’t so busy chasing this stupid niffler, I’d have the time to come up with something witty enough for you, Potter,” Draco retorted, mentally preparing himself to pull out his wand if Potter made a move - it seemed imminent. “Now if you don’t mind, I prefer it if you wandered somewhere else.”

Potter turned back to Draco. This was it. Draco edged his free arm towards the pocket of his robes - towards the safety of his wand. “Hagrid’s a good person, you know.”

Draco dropped his arm. He hadn’t been expecting that. “Why are you telling me this?”

“You provoked Buckbeak. I know you know it. And now Hagrid might lose his -“

“Have you not seen my arm, Potter?” Interrupted Draco before he could be guilt-tripped - that was Potter’s speciality. “I was viciously attacked.”

“We both know your arm is completely fine, Malfoy. Stop the act. I’m asking you to have some decency and - “

“Ah,” Draco laughed - Potter was really quite skilled at getting on his noble bloody high horse. “But you seem to have already made up your mind that I have no decency. So why should I bother?”

“What do you care what I think?”

“I don’t,” Draco said quickly. He was just making a point for merlin’s sake - did Potter have to be so…so…urgh.

“You still have time to take it back. Get rid of that stupid sling and apologise.”

“My father already - ”

“Your father is a-

“Not one more word, Potter!” Draco went for his wand instinctively, his arm jerking his sling open as he reached for - the sling! Shit. He froze, realising what he’d done, and looked up to gauge Potter’s reaction.

Potter didn’t look surprised but worse, he just looked unimpressed. He crossed his arms and stared at Draco with that one static look that made Draco want to fall inside himself and disappear. Draco couldn’t move - not even to return his arm back into the sling. Any move he made would be too telling under Potter’s eye. Why couldn’t Potter just stop staring already?

And then something strange happened - Potter sighed, releasing a long drawn out breath - and when he spoke, it appeared his previous anger had vacated in the same air. “Have you tried coaxing it out with something else valuable?”

It took Draco a couple of seconds to process the question. After all that, they were back to the niffler? “Like what?”

Potter silently pulled a golden snitch from his pocket and placed it at his feet.

The combination of the snitch and finding himself alone with Potter, drew up a memory of the previous year, one Draco thought he had successfully erased from his head. But no, the faint sound of Potter’s laughter rang in his ears once more. Draco fought hard not to enjoy it.

A husky sniffling sound brought Draco back to the present - the niffler! It had crawled out from underneath Hagrid’s stove and was shuffling to the snitch, making its greedy little noises as it did. Draco reached for his wand - with his uninjured arm this time - but Potter stopped him with a raised hand. Draco obeyed automatically, but immediately wished he hadn’t. Since when did he follow Harry Potter?

Potter waited until the niffler raised a grubby little paw above the snitch before he dropped to the ground with impressive speed, grabbing it with gentle hands.  He turned it upside down and stroked its belly, all the while making the most revolting cooing sounds Draco had ever heard. Is this what Potter was like around babies?

After far too much cooing, a number of shiny objects began to fall from the niffler’s clutches - galleons, necklaces, something that looked exactly like the hair pin Professor McGonagall wore, and there it was - the Malfoy crest. Potter’s hand shot out and caught it before it hit the ground - now he was just showing off. He placed the niffler lightly on the ground - where it promptly picked up the rest of its valuables and scampered behind the stove again - and walked over to Draco.

“Here,” he said, holding out the pin. Draco was sure to take it with his good arm. He needn’t have bothered - Potter didn’t look away from his face, a steely expression on his own. Oh merlin - Draco already knew there was something preachy coming. And: “You don’t have to be your father, you know. We don’t choose our family.”

Draco blinked back at Potter as his hands closed over the pin. He should have been angry at the audacity of Potter to comment on his family, but he couldn’t work up the energy for a fight. So he just took his family crest back from Potter’s hand silently, an automatic thank you dying before it reached his lips.

Potter waited there a moment as if expecting Draco to reply - but how was he supposed to reply to something like that? When enough time had passed in silence to make the moment truly awkward, Potter shrugged and walked to the door.

“Wait, Potter - “

“Yes?” Potter turned around immediately.

Shit. Malfoy hadn’t meant to say anything. How had that even come out of his mouth? And he certainly hadn’t expected Potter to stop. Shit. Potter was looking at him expectantly. Draco found himself trapped between the way he wanted to act and how he was supposed to act around Harry Potter. He hadn’t felt like that since the day he - wait. “What day is it?”

Potter looked at him strangely.  “Wednesday? November Third? Why do you - “

November Third. The day I beat you. It was a coincidence. It had to be. But still, something seemed off. On every other day, Draco never felt like this. Never felt anything other than hatred towards Potter. They were arch enemies. That was how it should be. This was wrong. Like he’d been cursed. Which didn’t make sense unless -

“I don’t know what you’ve done to me, Potter, but I’m not having a bar of it.” Draco pushed past Potter and made his own dramatic exit before Potter could continue his.

November Third. It couldn’t have any significance. Really. That was absurd. It was just Potter. Being his usual do-gooder self, trying to get Draco to feel something. Merlin. He needed to stay away from Potter. Every day of the year. Or he was going to lose his mind.

Bingo progress under the cut…

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Still in Love

Hi! Hope you’ll enjoy this short one shot. It’s a request based on the song “Somebody that I used to know” by Gotye. It’s only loosely inspired by it though, the song is despite its lyrics rather upbeat while I imagine this story to be set in a sadder atmosphere. 

Plot: H and Y/N used to have a bond until they cut each other out of their lives.

Warnings: None.

Gorgeous picture isn’t mine.

Harry found himself unable to look away. All his eyes could see was me, just as if my frame was the magnet to his attention. It was as though I wasn’t surrounded by a mass of people in a barely lit room and thick, humid air. His gaze was only drawn to me because to him I was illuminated. The air around me glowed. I might as well have stood in an empty room or lain in his bed, his attention couldn’t have been on me any more.

Harry’s jaw tensed. The sweet taste of the soft-drink on his tongue and the loud music blasted through the big speakers would normally have his shoulders relaxed and his body moving along to the rhythm. He would be enjoying his night out with friends and colleagues. But this time he couldn’t.
If anything Harry hadn’t ever been this tense whilst partying before. The tips of his fingers twitched, his lips were raw from his teeth pulling and biting into them and his hair was a mess.

All of which he truly could not understand.
How was Harry’s mind so incapable of finding an escape from the worry and slight fear his body was tormented with? Ever since he’d noticed me singing along to the music and laughing with my head thrown back and dancing in the middle of the floor, his blood had turned to ice and his skin heated.
His eyes followed the movements of my hips swinging, feet jumping and arms raising. The tip of his tongue pressed against his teeth when he noticed my exposed neck and collarbones and his skin prickled.
Harry’s stomach turned with guilt because he really shouldn’t be giving me that kind of attention. I wasn’t his after all. Not even as a friend. Nothing.

Still, if only to make sure I was fine, his pupils continued to follow my every move and they narrowed when he noticed me stumble a little, losing my balance momentarily. It seemed as though I’d had one if not many drinks too much. He moved to get up and come to my aid before his head had even caught up with it to consciously make that decision and before it could tell him not to move.
Harry didn’t know me. Not anymore, for the matter and it was no longer his job to come to my protection either.

And still, his hands reached out to carefully nudge people out of his way and his big feet moved quickly and steady in order to reach me faster. Harry was impatient and he couldn’t have said why.
One of his friends even made the effort to call after him, truly surprised at his sudden movements, but went silent the moment he noticed who it was Harry’s gaze had found. He knew Harry hadn’t heard him, knew there was no reaching him where his head had gone.

There had once been a time when Harry and I would lose ourselves in the other. When the whole room could feel our connection as though an electric energy was caused by it. The house could have erupted into flames, the room flooded by water or the earth broken open - we wouldn’t have noticed. Not when our fingers touched the others skin, if only momentarily. We would have eyes only for the other, words meant for no one else to hear and in truth Harry missed it as much as I longed for those times to come back.

I turned around when I heard him say my name for the first time in over a year. My blood was frozen, my skin light on fire and my heart flattered in my chest as if it tried to fly away. In my hurry and desperation to see him I lost my balance once more and stumbled into his chest rather forcefully. My stomach dropped at the sight of his beautiful features and a smile forced itself onto my lips.

Harry. He visibly hadn’t changed at all and lost nothing of his beauty.

“Harry.” My voice was shaking but fierce, with no doubt in its tone at all.

He chuckled quietly with the softest smile on his face while his hands found my rips to rest on hesitantly. Though his hold was firm, it was a gesture meant to steady me, keep me from falling and getting hurt, but oh if it didn’t weaken my knees even further. And I fell. Metaphorically speaking.

“Hi,” he hummed, his face leant in so his lips were near my ear. I shuddered when his warm breath fanned my skin. His hands brought me closer to him. “Are you okay?”

“Yes,” I replied cheerfully, my arms raising to rest on top of his shoulders with a wide smile. The embarrassment I felt when my voice broke was over quickly and though Harry’s smile told me he’d noticed, it was alright. The kind expression he wore and the alcohol numbing my brain were relaxing me enough to not blush at the uncommon closeness between us.

Maybe the lack of a barrier between us had become something unfamiliar, but when my fingers found the back of his neck and his soft curls to play with, I felt at home. He was truly here, in my arms. The softness of his strands was too addictive to let go of again. I normally wouldn’t have ever dared to be handsy with him, which of course didn’t mean that I didn’t long to be. Touching your ex’s hair and embracing his shoulders after not having seen him in 14 months wasn’t exactly what was considered a great idea, was it?

But Harry wasn’t really any ex. We’d never been an exclusive couple, never went on a date or got around to be introduced to parents. Harry and I were… in the lack of a better word Friends with benefits. It started one night mostly as a half drunken mistake and then continued until our relationship had transformed into something more. We’d hook up occasionally when we were in need for relief, then when we were in need of a shoulder to lean on and then when we were in need to be near each other. Our feelings for each other heightened and grew in strength until when we were in public and somebody asked what we were, neither of us knew what to say anymore. The term friends didn’t suffice, fuck-buddies sounded too meaningless.
So we avoided a label all together which was what had brought us to an end.

“Are you okay?” I asked him, trying to adapt a neutral tone. My brows knitted together and I observed his face closely, wanting to be sure he wouldn’t lie. Harry didn’t drink often, hardly ever got properly drunk. I feared he’d changed since we’d last spoken.

Harry nodded though his gaze darkened. Instinctively my hold on his locks tightened in fear he’d pull away.

“I’m good,” Harry muttered, coming closer once more so he could talk into my ear, “But I’ll be even better if you let me take you home.”

My stomach dropped and I let out a shocked gasp. He flinched when I shifted, almost tumbling once more and frowned at me trying to pull away.

“You sure are forward, aren’t you,” I joked half heartily, my voice doing a poor job at covering up the surprise.

Harry’s eyes widened, his head catching up to what he’d said.

“S'not what I mean!” Harry stressed, “M'not trying- Y/N you know m'not that sleazy. Was a stupid way of phrasing and-”

“Harry,” I laughed, “I know. Didn’t sound like you for a minute so I know you didn’t intend it.”

My hands ran down his shoulders and squeezed his arms. “But why do you want me to come with you?

The green of his orbs sparkled and my gaze dropped to the pink of his pillow lips. "Because I really miss you.”

….

His room looked nothing like I remembered. And that saddened me. The soft blue colored sheets, sheets I’d loved to sleep in due to their unbelievable softness had been replaced by plain white ones. Where once the stacks of books we used to read in to one another before falling asleep had been on his nightstand, was now a quartet of scented candles. I frowned and stepped closer. I’d kept up with what he’d been up to and had only rolled my eyes at his newly discovered obsession with candles, but now that I stood right in front of four my fingers twitched.

Orange. Lavender. Hibiscus. Almond.

“Is water okay? I can make you a tea if you want. Think I even got your favorite somewhere.”

Harry stood in the doorway, watching me with a mixed expression I found difficult to read. But I understood. It must have looked as strange to him as it felt for me, given that the last time I’d been in this exact bedroom we’d both been crying our hearts out.

“Water is fine,” I replied with a hesitant smile, “Thank you.”

His feet were slow when he approached me and the invitation to sit on his bed was spoked low. Any confidence Harry had shown back in the bar was lost, just like my bravery was wearing off with the remains of alcohol leaving my system. The more I sobered up, the stranger the whole situation became to me.

“Please, don’t get sick,” Harry requested quietly, whilst helping me sit down on his bed. I could only assume he was reading my pale cheeks and discomfort as a sign of too much alcohol in my blood. “Got new sheets.”

“I noticed.” The disappointment was evident in my voice and I forced a smile to cover it up, “And I’m alright.”

Why were the sheets gone? It was silly to feel nostalgic about them, but why hadn’t he kept the material we’d spent hours of sleeping under? Where we’d made plans, confessed dreams and caused giggles to fill the room? Had he thrown them away just like that and replaced them by silly blue ones? How could he?

“Where are they?”

“Who?” his face wore an expression of pure confusion.

I let my fingers touch the top of his mattress. It felt wrong. Not even half as soft as it used to be. “The sheets.”

Harry didn’t reply which was answer enough. I hissed and shook my head. My heart was heavy with a sudden sadness I couldn’t explain and knew was stupid. There was no reason for me to feel crushed over the loss of some blue material I hadn’t lain on in a long time. He’d made a decision I had no place being angry about.

Sensing my crushed feelings Harry shifted beside me, his arms ached to reach out and embrace me but his mind burned with questions he needed answers for.

“Why didn’t you ever call, Y/N?”

We weren’t avoiding the awkwardness, then. We wouldn’t dance around the uncomfortable feelings. My chest moved and my lungs filled with fresh air. One thing I appreciated about Harry was his bravery, one I never possessed. He wasn’t afraid of tackling the difficult conversations.

“I can’t remember how many nights I stayed up staring at my phone with hopes I could never fully let go of.”

“I needed space,” I explained weakly, “Needed to clear my head.”

We sat so close next to each other his knee brushed mine and though it was only a small touch, my eyes could not look away from it. His body heat easily radiated off of me, awakening every cell of my body and speeding up the rhythm of my heart. I wanted more, wanted to be reminded what it felt like to hold him right.

“Clear it from me?” Harry’s quiet voice was laced with sadness, “You shut me out of your life. As if you tried to make it like I’d never touched it.”

Contradicting his words, Harry’s hand found my thigh, giving it an entirely non sexual squeeze, one that let me know he wasn’t angry. My hand pressed on top of his and I looked up to meet his eyes.

“You know what I felt for you, Harry.”

He nodded. “Which is just why I don’t understand.”

It’d been him who’d broken us off. Well, whatever “us” had meant. His solo career had been in its beginnings and he knew he’d need to be free to travel for it, work an impossible amount of hours and be available to anyone always. Anyone, aside form me.

Going solo meant he was busy and that meant that any feelings for him I had developed, did not have any place.
Harry cared for me, wanted me and desired to keep me close, but at the same time he knew that if he let us strengthen our bond even more, we would eventually suffer a heart break. Our connection wasn’t meant to be, not at that time anyway.

“I began to miss you so terribly the moment you closed the door behind you,” I breathed.

Watching him walk out of my apartment was a sight I knew I’d never forget. No matter how many promises of keeping in touch, staying friends and wanting to remain close had been made, I was sure we both knew they were void of true meaning.

Harry had touched my heart. How could I look into his eyes after having been rejected?

I whimpered when his body turned to face mine and shuddered when his hand fount my neck, gently turning my head so I looked up at him.
Harry’s brows were knitted together while his eyes pleaded with mine. My lips parted and my head spun when my own palms found their place on his shoulders, only centimeters away from his collarbones. I yearned to touch his skin.

“But that doesn’t mean you had to cut me off like that,” he whispered.

“Your fear of perhaps not having enough time for me didn’t mean you had to deny us any chance either,” I countered, arching one eyebrow at him.

Relief overcame me when a smile pulled at the corner of his lips and I felt some of the tension in the room shift. “That is true, I suppose.”

His thumb gently caressed the skin of my cheek before trailing along my jaw. Harry shook his lovely head, making his slightly disheveled hair fall into his face. “And both happened despite that I loved you.”

There it was again. The buzz in the air. I moved further up to sit in a crossed legged position across from him, both of my hands still pressed flat to his chest and his eyes closed when the tips of my fingers dared finding the unbuttoned part of his shirt where his warm skin was accessible.

I hummed, a shy smile on my lips.

“You know,” I began in a whisper, “your choice of candles lets me hope there is no past tense to your feelings.”

His nose brushed my cheek and his mouth kissed my shoulder.

My voice shook as I went on: “They are, after all, the scent of the cookies I always made for you, the soap of mine you used to hate and the oil I used to massage your shoulders with when you were stressed.”

A low moan fell from his mouth at the memory and my eyes fell shut.

“And what’s the last scent for?” he asked.

My body was pushed back to lie flat on his mattress and I welcomed him with open arms who finally got to hold him tight again.

“It’s the smell of my hair,” I whispered into the shell of his ear, whimpering when his lips pressed warm kisses to the bare exposed skin of my collarbones. “My shampoo.”

“Maybe s'not in the past tense then,” Harry murmured, grunting when my legs found the familiar place around his hips, “Maybe I still love you.”

“That would be nice,” I gasped when he pressed himself closer against my skin and wanted to cry because it still wasn’t enough.

“Would it?”

“Yes,” my hold tightened, “because I’m as in love with you as I was the day I told you for the first time.”

Hope you liked it! It’s the first story I posted since being officially 19! Ahh!! Love everyone of you who reads my stories, your support means so much. Thank you.

Rest of my stories: 

http://harryimaginedstories.tumblr.com/post/144920695218/masterlist

Staying the Same (Jonathan Byers x reader)

Summary: Reader suprises Jonathan at NYU

Warnings: Its kinda sad? i guess

Word Count [NEW!] : 588

Request: Hi!!! I love your work, it’s fantastic! Could you please write a Jonathan Byers fanfic where him and his girlfriend are in college and one goes and visits the other (like she goes and visits him at NYU)?? Please and thank you!!

While NYU was Jonathan’s greatest dream, he felt empty there. His roommate was constantly out partying, never at the dorm; and because of his introverted nature, making friends in his classes of 100 plus people proved more difficult than he imagined. He spent most of his time taking pictures, doing his homework, watching the same 3 movies he brought with him, and his favorite activity, talking to you on the phone. But the daily phone calls weren’t enough for him. Jonathan was used to seeing you everyday during school, after school, on the weekends, there were only a few times you two were apart.

Jonathan sat in his room arranging a stack of photos he had of you, his family, and other photos in an album. The pictures he took of you were the ones he was the proudest of, and while looking through his collection of photos, he found one of himself you took last summer. It was blurry and half his face was out of frame but he loved anything you did.

3 knocks coming from the door stole Jonathan from his thoughts. Quickly he moved to the door, thinking it was his roommate, stumbling back from a party drunk. But when he saw your face behind that door, he almost cried. It had been almost 5 months since he had seen you last.

“Hey baby, you missed me?” you grabbed him and pulled your boyfriend into a tight hug. The shoulder of your blouse soon became soaked with tears. “Babe, what’s the matter?” concern flooded your body. He was generally more reserved than emotional. You hadn’t seen him cry since he got Will back.

“I missed you so much, baby I missed you so much,” his body shook while he cried. He was a wreck, pulling you in closer and kissing your cheek. With each kiss he placed, a laugh left you, and that laughter turned to tears too.

You pulled away from him carefully, “Baby, we need to go inside, people are going to get concerned if they find us hugging each other and crying in the hallway of your dorm,” He followed you inside, and the two of you sat on his bed. His eyes were red, but he stopped crying at this point. “Tell me baby, how is it seeing me out of the blue?” He just laughed at your comment. You both stared at each other for a bit, sitting in comfortable silence. Finally able to see each others faces, when all you had was each others voices. He hadn’t changed at all; you were afraid New York would change your Jonathan, but the only thing that changed was where he slept at night. He noticed you had changed, your hair was longer, cheeks fuller and redder, you even wore lipstick different than your usual color choice. But he could tell your personality didn’t change at all. Still the same funny and Star Wars obsessed person he fell in love with as a freshman.

You looked down, and saw scattered around his bed were polaroids. Pictures you had seen a hundred times, and some you had never seen before. Flipping through the half completed photo album, you saw photos of you, before you started dating him, and documenting the progression of your relationship. Even as time went on, things always stayed the same. Your relationship always stayed strong, the love you both held never faltered. Even if you lived over 700 miles away from each other, everything would be the same.

————————————————————–

I was hit last night with the random urge to write, so here it is. If you want to be added to the tag list feel free to dm me! Requests are open, feel free to drop a request in my ask box. Please do not reupload any of my stories! Gif is not mine. Feedback is welcome and very wanted! Idk whats next im tired lol

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Hoodie

Pairing: Reader / Namjoon

Genre: exbf!Namjoon; College!au; Fluff

Length: 2.4k words

Warning: Language

Summary: Exes aren’t supposed to keep each other’s belongings after they break up, right? But there’s always that connection to each other, whether it’d b physical or emotional that you can’t seem to get rid of. What is it for you? A sweatshirt. A stupid hoodie.

Inspired by: Hoodie by Hey Violet (wow i love this song so much pls listen to it!)

( not my gif )

You knew it was wrong. Even if the thought was in the back of your mind, you still knew. Yet you still managed to draw yourself back to that same stupid sweatshirt and you didn’t know why. 

Maybe it was the sense of welcomeness; the fact that it was always there, waiting to be worn. Or maybe it was a sense of home. You never admitted it out loud but that sweatshirt did bring up your mood because of how homey it felt.

At first it was a lazy thing to put on when you couldn’t find something better to wear. It was times like when you woke up late for class or had to make a quick trip to the grocery store when your wore it.

You were doing your homework while hunched over your desk, probably looking like a zombie. I need a coffee, you concluded. If there was anything to motivate you to finish your homework, it was coffee.

It was a chilly day, you observed from the sounds of the wind rustling against the leaves of the trees. You liked the chilly weather; it was an excuse to throw on a sweatshirt and go out looking a bit like a bum without being judged too hard for it. Pushing your self away form your desk, your eyes scanned the room in search for something to cover you up. Your eyes spotted the sweatshirt hanging on the back of your dorm room’s door.

You pulled the large sweatshirt over your smaller body and your heart skipped a beat at the familiar scent which engulfed your nostrils, yet just like that, the feeling was gone; You returned back to your nonchalant state slipped on some shoes.

You shoved your hands into the sweatshirt pockets as you felt the cold wind gust past your warm fingertips. The walk to the coffee shop was a short one, yet your brain always seemed to make it much longer than it actually was. Thoughts swirled through your head and you overthought absolutely everything…or so you thought.

I have three tests this week and I haven’t started studying for any of them.

I have two essays due by Wednesday morning and you barely started the second one and revised the first one.

I should probably hit the gym; I’m looking kind of chubby these days.

You scoffed to yourself. Yeah right.

Oh, and I’m wearing my ex boyfriend’s sweatshirt.

Before you could even process what you had just thought, you were approaching the surprisingly almost empty shop. You ordered your coffee and observed your surroundings. Man, it smelled good in here. Why didn’t you come more often?

“Hey, I’m here for my shift. Thanks for covering for me, man.”

Oh, you thought at the familiar voice, that’s why. You quickly walked out of the shop, not caught by your barista ex boyfriend. You nearly smiled at the memory of calling him your barista boyfriend.

The trip back wasn’t filled with your thoughts for your were too occupied by drinking the deliciously warm coffee. You returned back to your dorm room, your coffee nearly finished. You didn’t take off the sweatshirt, already accustomed to softness and sweet scent your heart was praying for you to acknowledge.

Subconsciously, your hand found its way to one of the strings along the hood of the sweatshirt and tugged at it as you continued to do your homework. Your fingers brought the the string to your lips and you chewed the end of the string without even realizing. 

Then that was it. After you finished your homework, you slipped off the hoodie and hung it back onto the door where it’d remain for a few days. 


As time passed, you found yourself wearing the stupid sweatshirt more and more. Yet, nothing occurred to you that it was a bad thing. You lounged around your room in it more often since it was the first thing you spotted to wear. It was becoming so much of a problem, your friends even noticed.

“Uh, Y/N?” You friend from history asked, concern etched into her voice. She looked genuinely concerned for your very being as she watched you eat nonchalantly while wearing that. You were out to lunch on an ordinary Thursday. Nothing bad seemed to happen today and you were relieved. You mentally patted yourself on the back for somehow fucking up your day.

“Hm?” You softly, smiled. You stared at her concern faced with curious eyes.

“Is that…” She trailed off, pointing to the sweatshirt your were wearing. You looked down at the grey hoodie and then back up at her whose finger was still int he air. When you didn’t answer her half-question, she leaned in and whispered, “Namjoon’s sweatshirt?” 

Furrowing your brows, you nodded at her odd antics. Her mouth was parted open and her eyes were widened to size of saucers. You understood your friend was a drama major but damn, was she bing over dramatic.

“Y–You–you c–can’t–” She stuttered, blinking rapidly, flabbergasted at how you were so calm and okay with wearing his sweatshirt.

“What?”

“Wear your ex’s sweatshirt!” She said, exasperatingly as if it were a common fact everyone knew.

“Why not?” You knew the answer to the question but your curiosity got the better of you. 

“Exes don’t wear or keep each other’s belongings! They usually cut all ties with them and why haven’t you?” 

“I have!” You countered, referring to losing Namjoon’s number and losing contact with him and his friends.

“No you haven’t. As long as you have that sweatshirt, you’re still chained to him.” You scoffed at her answer. You let the guy go. What was a sweatshirt gonna do? It was just a sweatshirt!! It wasn’t like having it meant you were still madly in lovely with the man. Did it?

But you friend’s words only made you think. You were wearing the sweatshirt too often than not. You stared at it more often, and even if you were turned away from it, you still felt its presence behind you.

That’s it, you thought.

You grabbed the sweatshirt off of the door and laid it against the edge of your bed.

If your friends claimed you didn’t let the man go because of a stupid sweatshirt, you were going to have to prove it to them. You had to get rid of the damn thing. But get rid of it how?

Trash it?

Burn it?

Or return it?

Burning it felt like too much of an extreme and it seemed like it’d be something you’d do if you held a certain grudge over him, which you didn’t. 

You couldn’t simply return the sweatshirt. ‘Hey, here’s that sweatshirt I’ve had for months after we broke up. I’ve been wearing it but I didn’t care.’ That sounded promising.

You decided to go with the first choice. Grabbing the sweatshirt by the sleeves, you held it up and took a final look at it. A guilty feeling arose from the pit of your stomach at the mere thought of dumping the thing.

Maybe, one last time. 

You pulled the hoodie over you and this time, really felt what it was like wearing it. You smiled at the familiar scent blended into the fabric. You were hit by the millions of memories of wearing it, starting with how you even go it in the first place.

“You know,” you began, as you played with the strings of the very same hoodie. 

“Hm?” Namjoon hummed from next to you. You loved these kinds of days. They were the days when neither of you had classes and he didn’t have work and you’d lounge around in each other’s rooms, not a single bad thought in any of your heads. 

“I’m keeping this.”

“Babe, you can’t just claim my hoodie as yours.”

“Uh, yes I can. And that’s what I’m doing,” You turned to face him and snuggled further into his hoodie.

“I’d say no but you look too cute,” He smiled, softly, his dimples showing. Poking at one of them, you smiled. 

“I’m always going to have this.”

“You better. It looked better on you anyway,” He closed his eyes and lightly pecked your forehead. 

You were always going to have this. You looked back down at the sweater and noticed a few tear stains along the front of. Quickly rubbing your eyes, you sighed. 

You couldn’t get rid of it. No matter how hard you tried, this stupid sweatshirt was going to stay tied to you wherever you went.

Was it wrong? Probably.

Did you care? Not really.


You found yourself wearing the hoodie whenever you could. You even wore it to sleep, just like you used to. 

It was hard at first, knowing the owner of that sweatshirt wasn’t yours anymore and he probably didn’t even know you owned the damn thing.

But you grew accustomed to it, enjoying the feeling of the fabric against your skin and the smell. Oh, the smell. No matter how many timed you wore it, the smell of Namjoon remained there. 

You went to class with it on and went anywhere with it on.

You sat at the coffee shop, too lazy to walk all the way back to your dorm. You relished in the sweet smell of the coffee in the shop and smiled. You really should come by more often. But what you didn’t know was the barista currently on shift, watching you in his sweatshirt.

So she did keep it, Namjoon thought, a playful smile threatening to grace his lips. He watched you from the counter, as you sipped your coffee, not bothered by the world around you. Always in that head of hers, he thought.

He didn’t approach you, he secretly wanted to. But before he could even man up to, you decided to leave the shop.

You returned back to your dorm and sprawled yourself onto your bed. You spent the day mostly on your phone. You held the phone up hovering over your face, scrolling though whatever social life you might have. 

After a few hours, there was a knock at your dorm. I sweat to god if it’s that girl who asks for the homework, you frowned approaching the door.

You swung open the door, ready to threaten whoever was at it, before freezing. 

“Uhhh,” Namjoon widened his eyes, surprised that you even answered.

“Joon–er, Namjoon! What a…surprise,” you forced a smile, your own eyes widened, confused as to what the hell he was doing. 

“I um, saw you earlier…at the coffee shop…and I noticed, the…hoodie,” His eyes gazed down to the stupid sweatshirt you were wearing. 

“Oh!” Your face grew red. This is what you were trying to avoid. Being caught by him that you still owned the thing. “Do you want it back? I’m really sorry–” He cut you off as you began to take of the sweatshirt. 

“No, no! You promised you’d always have it. I’m just surprised you kept it…the promise, I mean,” Namjoon rubbed the back of his neck, awkwardly.

“You know I never break a promise,” you teased, raising an eyebrow. It was surprising how comfortable you were in front of your ex. You didn’t feel like crying or slapping him. The breakup was mutual after all.

“I know, believe me. Still have that unflattering picture of me on your Instagram that you promised to never delete?”

You nodded, “Oh definitely. Definitely your best look,” You laughed. 

He chuckled with you and when the laughter died down, there was an awkward silence. 

“If you weren’t here for the sweatshirt, what were you here for?” You asked, tilting your head to the side in question. 

“You. I just needed to see you,” He murmured, looking down. 

“Me? Why me?”

“Y/N, you shouldn’t have to ask that question. Hell, it’s my fault you have to even ask.”

“What are you going on about?” You asked, gesturing him to come inside.

“I let you go way too easily.” He stated, boldly. 

“Joon,” you trailed off, looking away. 

“No, Y/N, I should’ve fought. For you. For us. But I didn’t because I was an idiot,” Namjoon shook his head to himself.

“It was a two way thing. I had to fight, too,” You reassured. 

“Then let’s fight.”

“What?” You were bewildered by his sudden boldness. Fight?

“Y/N, our families may hate each other but I sure as hell don’t hate you. In fact, I love you. I still do after all this time and please, just please, can we try again?”

He grabbed your hands and stared into your eyes, begging you to say yes. “Why now? Out of all the times to come and see me, why now?”

“I saw you today, wearing that sweatshirt and Y/N, my heart swelled for the first time in months. I don’t think you understand how much I wished you kept that sweatshirt and seeing you wear it gave me that shimmer of hope that you still had feelings for me. So Y/N, do you still have feelings for me? If you don’t, I’ll leave right now and won’t bother you again.”

You stared back into Namjoon’s eyes and thought hard about the question. But then, you realized, you couldn’t overthink the question. There was only one word in your brain that couldn’t be changed. 

“Why the hell do you think I still wear the sweatshirt? Of course I do, you idiot,” You gave him lopsided smile, to which he returned with a grin.

“So we can try again?”

“Well, I sure hope so. I hope I didn’t confess only for you to say bye again,” You teased. 

“I missed your teasing,” He embraced you and you sighed against his chest. He smelled the same. Even if you weren’t with his physically for the past few months, his sweatshirt was and you realized that was what was filling the mpty void in your heart.

And it was because of that stupid sweatshirt that you were happy again.


YALLLL I WROTE THIS AND THEN TUMBLR DELETED IT SO I WAS ENRAGED BUT I DID IT!!! PEN PAL IS KIND OF DELAYED UNTIL LATER TONIGHT BUT HAVE THIS FIC THAT I LOVE SM:))))))

Episode 4 was a fandom wide callout post.

all you fools too busy being pissed bc Coran went all show crazy and basically re-characterized the paladins to what the masses found entertaining, to notice that the entire episode was literally a fandom wide call out post. they literally called us out guys. 

lets go over the list of things Coran said/did in ep 4 and compare them shall we?

let me preface this by saying he literally wasn’t himself and i still love him just as much as before, my gorgeous man.

”I worked up very specific personas for each of you. This is going to help the audience connect on a much deeper level with each team member.” 

as if they didn’t already have defining personalities that make them very likable and awesome? sounds familiar right? its one thing to speculate and theorize based on what we know about a character especially if we don’t know a lot about said character. the writers put a lot of time and effort into developing these characters and even said during an interview once that one of the things that bugged them about og Voltron was that the only properly developed character was Keith. the other guys didn’t get a chance to be loved. and that was what they aimed to do, to give every paladin and character the chance to be loved. since the beginning the fandom has been bad at this. taking one teeny trait from each character and twisting them so that the only thing that matters is that trait. 

         “lover-boy lance”

throughout the series lance is known  to flirt with…pretty much every cute alien girl. of course. hes handsome, charming, girls love him. Coran wipes away all of the actually relatable things about his personality in favor of this charming flirt who would win over girls. Lance is insecure, he’s witty, he is the freaking sharpshooter, the teams sniper and their glue. he’s voltrons right hand now for a reason. he got into the garrison which is a military space exploration base, not just anyone gets in. hes incredibly intelligent and a great pilot. amazing really. bc simulations are always absolutely terrible and rarely help. oh yea, and hes charming.but god forbid anyone forget that hes a flirt. who cares about the other stuff that will actually help the audience connect with him. 

        “science wiz pidge” 

its no secret that pidge is incredibly intelligent. she is one of the characters who haven’t gotten their developing points until this season. in one of the first flashbacks we learned she nearly gave up studying because some kid decided to be a dick and bully her. Matt pulled her out of it and encouraged her to work hard. later on in ep 4 coran says that her science doesn’t need to be factually correct because noone will understand her either way. he undermined her intelligence because . well. noone cares what she says as long as it sounds smart. fanfic writers do this a lot. like. a lot. i understand that you may not have the same knowledge that the girl who hacked herself into a military school base undercover at he age of 14-15 (if the theory that the garrison is a high school program is correct) because she had gotten banned for sneaking in and hacking into the computer system, but if you really do insist on focusing her on her smarts, do some research. no to mention. pidge may be the youngest, but she really is more than science and calculations. shes intelligent yes, but she can hold her own in battle (at the age range of 15-17 with no prior battle training), shes afraid of the possible reality that all her efforts are wasted and Matt and Sam are dead, she is actually pretty social with the paladins (she can even be seen hanging out in the kitchen while hunk makes glass cookies.) and beyond her intelligence, shes wise. shes not just random science facts, she knows how to hold her own in situations outside of battle and books. shes street smart. 

       “lone wolf keith”

now i know this was said to allura, and ill get to that. but if the keith vlog showed us anything, its that  hes not just a moody loner teenager.  i am very guilty of this myself. i portray keith as a human disaster. we don’t know hen he was left alone, we don’t really know much of his story. i head canon that his dad left him to fend for himself but every month woul drop off food or money or something. i head canon hes terrible about taking care of his body. but at least i don’t call him moody and move on.  i give him a background to fill in the blank space, but sometimes i forget and focus too much on his folded arms and  pouty face. he smiles. he laughs. hes an actual precious bean.  but hes also afraid of being pushed away. hes guarded and does his best to be strong. he hides his feelings and protects his heart with everything he has. (geez boi who hurt you). he is not the human embodiment of “teenagers” by mcr. aka he has feelings too. not to mention he also got into the garrison, and was the top pilot regardless of how he got in, if it happened to be by recommendation like most people think. 

      “humourous hunk”

as a hunk stan this one annoys me the most. throughout the episode hunk is consistently embarrassed, and even protests the fart noises, fart jokes, etc. he is purposely tripped for laughs. the fandom forgets that hes not just the fat funny guy, or just the personal chef. hes overcome so much since babies first lion flight, he used to get sick, constantly had to be the voice of reason to keep his teammates out of trouble,  he is just as intelligent as pidge and is actually one of the only people that can keep up with her science stuff. keith and lance even stated that they didnt understand anything they’d said. hes a fantastic engineer even if he had a few tummy mishaps. hes an amazing pilot too, and extremely sassy. he and pidge probably rigged the game console to work in space, And hes pretty friendly and cautious. he is NOT meant to be the comic relief. (say it louder for people in the back)

     “shiro the hero”

a lot of the fandom has taken to calling shiro daddy, sexualizing him (”now put on this tight shirt”) and focusing on shiro and only shiro (shiros the “favorite character” of corans little show). hes great. he really is. and the man needs a break. voltron is a kids show. he isnt meant to  be sexualized, none of them are. hes more than his arms and his leadership abilities. the biggest issue i have with the whole shiro thing. regardless of if hes a clone, when shiro returned he cut his hair differently, and wore short sleeves. everyone i know, including me, said they’d be fine with the clone if he had kept his hair long and “as much as i love the arm view” and didnt change his outfit. its a kid show. his body shouldn’t matter.i am also guilty of this, and ep 4 opened my eyes to it. coran lifted shiros arm as if to prove that thats what the audience really wanted. he treats shiro differently bc hes the real star here and everyone should know it. ofc, hes the black paladin. (i wonder where the whole “the black paladin is the only one who really matters here” mindset came from. looking @ u ‘84). shiros may have ptsd, and hes constantly trying to hold himself together for his team, and its obviously not easy. maybe thats why hes got a cute white floof. the stress. 

      alluras erasure  

another point that always bugged me. the fandom either forgets allura exists, or that she is just stealing lances place temporarily. Allura is the blue paladin. while keith is gone, she is not filling in. shes a paladin now too. for coran to call her keith, and constantly call her keith, even though she obviously has a few choice words to say about it, its distrespectful. she says his plan is working and he replies with “why thank you keith…i like to keep you in character” once again, erasing her existence. now im not as well versed in this particular topic, but id like you to keep in mind that he talks to his princess with that mouth, and that she IS the princess and not a fill in while keith leads. feel free to elaborate on this more. 


     coran “fires “ team voltron. 

this. i find extremely entertaining. remember that legal trouble last year bc of the leaks? and right around that time the klance shipper started threatening them if they didn’t make it gayer and put keith and lance together? the  fandom, who wanted all of this to happen their way, were threatening to get it cancelled and such just because things didnt go their way. shiro, the leader, disagreed with coran and tries to shut him down. and coran in fit of rage says:

you’re a bunch of quitters! quitters! i’m a visionary! i have thoughts, ideas, i dont need you anyway. ill rewrite the show, get rid of the whole lot of you, replace you with new paladins! and the show will be better than ever before!…except for you shiro, ill never get rid of you, you’re our most popular character!

this is essentially what the fandom was saying. now, was this definitely their plan, to call us out with this bit, in not sure, but honestly, its almost too coincidental.

the writers have made it clear that they heard us, and have always been listening. and really, thats why i love ep4. you’re angry because you know you got called out but haven’t admitted it to yourself. the writers do their best to bring us the best show possible, but they cant satisfy everyone. why cant we just be happy about Actual Meme ™ Matt, and look forward to season five instead of fighting them because we got our shit handed right back to us. weve gotten a  taste of our own medicine, so chill. i enjoy them keeping us on our toes, surprising us with every turn, theyre great writers.who cares if one or two things pissed you off? we both know youre not gonna stop watching.