and she loves them with all her heart

The reason why the love between a mother and her son is so powerful is because it’s often unconditional. No matter how many times he messes up, she will be there to clean his mess. She will be there with a hug and with love. So for many of the men with this kind of relationship with their mother, when it’s time to date, they look for a woman like their mother. As in a woman that will be with them no matter how much they mess up. They see women with big hearts and big capacity to love and hope that the love will excuse all of their foolishness.

That’s what many men expect. A woman like Mom, who will baby them and coddle them and not force them to be accountable for their bad decisions.

ariabarnes  asked:

I think about that one video with Shawn and Aaliyah where Shawn goes to blow out his birthday candles and she leans in and blows them out and then he kinda like hugs her from behind and all I can think about is like you are just standing somewhere doing something and then Shawn just comes up behind you and hugs you super tight. My heart hurts thinking about this😩

wow wow wow you know damn well shawn would be the type to nuzzle his nose into the crook of your neck, placing a little loving kiss there and smiling a little bit before whispering that he loves you to pluto and back because the moon just isn’t far enough oops

soft sunday™

Baby Kieran

I think we all need some baby Kieran with his Mama in our lives.

Eilwen knew that as the son of the Unseelie King, Kieran would not have an easy life, but she was a mother and wanted to protect her child as much as she could. Kieran was the sweetest, most loving child a mother could want, even at just two years old, and as his mother all she wanted to do was protect him. Kieran was one of the youngest of the kings fifty sons, meaning that the King himself had very little interest in him.

As a water nixie, she would spend a lot of time in the pools that were all around faerie and she would bring her son to play in them. Much to her delight, her son loved being in the water, splashing and giggling to his little hearts content. And seeing Kieran so happy made Eilwen happy.

But as much as she loved playing in the pools with Kieran, her favourite part of the day was when she got to have cuddles just before Kieran’s bed time. He would wrap himself round his mother, head resting on her chest listening to her heart beat. She would sing him ancient faerie lullabies as she took him to bed, him slowly drifting off to sleep.

Once Kieran had finally fallen asleep, she would tuck him into bed, and brush his blue hair out of his face, and watch her little boy sleep, looking even more beautiful in his slumber than when he was awake. Sometimes she would lie on the bed, facing her son, wanting to spend a few moments more with him. Sometimes Kieran would grab hold of one of her long, elegant fingers whilst he slept, and when he did, Eilwen wouldn’t have the heart to take her finger from him, so would fall asleep on the bed with him.

anonymous asked:

She's liking pics online which means she is reading all the awful hateful comments about her and her talent. She is fucking too good for this fucking industry and all these fuckibg little trolls that sit behind a computer. She gets so much more hate every time she is with Justin because all these delusional girls think she is taking him from them. Listen girls Justin has always been Selena's,!!!why? because she is the love of his life. Fucking grow up

Ugh…. and the fact that she left the awards already because of her anxiety attack… my heart aches… I hope when she goes home she has support and love for the rest of her night…. tomorrow is a new day and apparently she is attending the lupus gala…. I just want her to be okay…

anonymous asked:

What are your headcanons about Allura and marriage/kids?

allura and marriage? she doesn’t see any other ending to her first love. once she finds who she wants to be in love with forever? a happy end is all she considers and (naturally) what she gets.

allura and kids? never been on her wish list. she’s just never been about that life. and her significant other is either down with that or allura is so damn in love with them her heart opens up to adoption. (because everyone in the universe has a families ♡ and lu would want nothing more than to welcome another lost child into hers)

I met Joe Alwyn!!!

So, I was walking around my neighbourhood minding my own business, when I went inside a café to have a drink, and there he was!!! He was with a couple of other actors from Operation Finale, paying and getting ready to leave. I decided to approach them and I was so nervous that I started talking to the other actors first, who were all super nice! Then I finally got the courage and approached Joe. He is such a sweet heart! I told him I loved his work on Billy Lynn’s Halftime Walk and he thanked me, so I asked him for a picture and he agreed. Then I told him that I was a swiftie and to please say hi to Taylor and to ask her to come here to Argentina. He said he had no idea she had never come here and that he would tell her! I asked him if he was having a good time here and he said he hasn’t been here too long but that yeah, he was having a great time. Then I thanked him for his kindness and left, I didn’t want to bother him or impose on him. He was really kind and smiling all the time, I still cannot believe that I got the chance to meet him!!!!

Also, he is so gorgeous in person! Like, the photos do not make him justice! Now I get what Taylor was singing about (well done girl, well done!!!)
@taylorswift please thank him again for me, will you? :)

She didn’t want to say but she was falling apart,
she wanted someone to hold her but she was too stubborn to ask.
She will not beg to be loved, she preferred to walk away, to be alone instead.
She mastered the art of faking a smile, a smile that never reached up to her eyes.
Look in them and you will know how they flood every night,
how sorrow and her are lovers that can't stay apart.
She could take all the pain that came her way, will not say a single word,
but couldn't stand to see the look of pity for her in someone’s eye.
She pretended like she didn’t care but she had one of the purest heart,
a heart that deserved nothing but love.
She cared about the people she loved,  because she knew how
it felt like to be unwanted.
But no one cared about her, nobody knew how she smiled during the day
and cried herself to sleep every night.
She was surrounded by so many yet she felt lonely…
What’s worse than feeling alone in a room full of people.
—  heaart-talk

okay hear me out – 

lup got a day from barry, because she loved him, and of course she either gave him a day as well, or that day was theirs to share. and then she goes to taako, and she says she needed a day from him, too, because he’s her heart and this is all very, very beautiful and painful and poignant – but i’d like to postulate that barry needed another day as well, something i keep him anchored, because even though he loves lup with his whole being, he knows this is dangerous – 

so barry goes to team human for another day. he goes to magnus and lucretia and explains the process to them. magnus is confused – he’s not dumb, but magic is just an entire realm of stuff that he doesn’t always have the patience for, but if barry, who is much older than him and very smart, says it’ll be okay, then magnus trusts him. lucretia, meanwhile, is terrified much the way taako was, because she knows what this means and she’ll explain it to magnus later, but maybe not because the moment barry says, “I need you to give me the most fun day ever” he’s out of his chair and just says, “I need forty-eight hours to prepare” and he grabs lucretia’s hand and pulled her to his room and they start planning.

(and he’s so excited, he’s so completely stoked to do all this stuff for barry that she just keeps her fears to herself and rolls up her sleeves and gets into the thick of planning barry’s big day – and after a certain point, she’s so excited about what it’ll be like she’s not even worried. not as much. 

well, maybe a little.)

so they wake barry up with breakfast in bed, similar to taako – except it’s like cheeseburgers and french fries and the lumpiest, shittiest looking, most delicious chocolate cake barry’s ever had in his life, and this big ass glass of lemonade with four umbrellas sticking out and a bright pink curly straw – and he’s already laughing, he’s already having the best day ever.

and after that it’s this beautiful hike where they map the ridges of a canyon, and they find this village dug into the side that magnus found weeks ago, but he was using it as a place to get some peace and quiet, saving it for barry’s birthday, but today is basically barry’s birthday, so they hike down and barry goes nuts over all this really cool artwork and pottery and inventions he’s never seen before. they go fishing along the river and make s’mores by a campfire. they get out of the canyon and they go to a clearing where magnus and lucretia have made these really shoddy, homemade fireworks and barry gets to let them all off and they lay in the grass and stare up at the sky as these perpetually moving showers of sparks and lights fall down around them – and they have one last slice of cake before bed, and barry hugs them each, holds them both so tight – 

his weird, weird little brother and sister.

and he knows that memory of his day with lup is strong, but that moment when he and lup start the spell, he can taste chocolate cake and marshmallows, and he can hear magnus laughing and see lucretia smiling and it’s not the same feeling, but gods, it’s something. it’s really something.

10

JOURNEY TO FEARLESS.

BORN- November 7th, 2008
DIAGNOSED WITH CANCER- October 15, 2013
FIRST BIG BREAK IN FIGHT- January 2, 2014
TUMOR INACTIVE- May 1, 2014
GOT TO HUG THE HUMAN THAT HELPED HER THROUGH HER FIGHT- May 7, 2014
TUMORS RETURN- November 18, 2014
TUMORS INACTIVE- December 18, 2014
TUMORS RETURN- February 20, 2015
TUMORS GROW NEAR OPTIC NERVE WITH RISK OF SPREADING- August 20, 2015
SURGERY TO REMOVE EYE COMPROMISED FROM CANCER- September 3, 2015
CANCER FREE- SEPTEMBER 23, 2015
1 YEAR CANCER FREE- September 23, 2016
2 YEARS CANCER FREE- September 23, 2017

@taylorswift, I don’t know if you remember my niece, Khloe. You planned a visit to CHLA in 2014 specifically to meet her after seeing her story and hashtag all over Instagram. You spent about 40 minutes with her talking, laughing, and making her feel loved and important. It was one of the best days. I don’t know if you’ll ever fully comprehend the impact of that day on her and our family during that time. You brought such a breath of fresh air to all of us when we felt like we were drowning. And it’s a day we held onto throughout the rest of her fight. In 2015, she was battling cancer again and it was very serious. The tumors started to impact her eyesight and it got to the point where she could only see shadows in her right eye. They were growing near her optic nerve and there was the big risk that it could spread to the rest of her body if she didn’t have surgery to remove her eye. We actually found out the day before your 1st LA show of the 1989 tour. Since finding out the news, it was all a blur but that night at the show, we forgot everything that was happening outside of those walls. Khlo wasn’t a child with cancer, she was just a child having the time of her life watching her favorite perform all the songs that brought her happiness in her hard times. You did that. I actually blew my savings to surprise her with floor seats to the last of the LA shows. At one point in the show I lifted her up above the crowd and she wholeheartedly believes you smiled at her and she kept asking me if I thought you remembered her. I always replied the same, ‘There is no way anyone could ever forget you.’ I post this all because I remember watching an interview years back when you said one of the hardest parts of your job is meeting children battling cancer and then returning to the hospital years later and them not being there. So I just want you to know, Khlo did battle cancer twice more, and it did steal her sight from her right eye, but it didn’t steal her from us. Her FEARLESS heart still beats strong. She still absolutely LOVES you and still has her dance parties to your music. The difference is that now it’s no longer in hospital rooms but in her own. Thank you for being a constant source of happiness for her. I always loved you on my own but the fact that I get to love you through her, is what makes me thankful for you everyday.

Snow Ball

OK BUT IMAGINE:

  • The month in-between the Gate closing and Snow Ball, Hopper does let El hang out with the boys, but only at the Wheelers’ or Byers’
  • Max and El resolve their issues (mainly El) when Max has a day where she is freaking out and confesses to El how much she likes Lucas
  • El realizes that Max only likes Mike as a friend and their leader, but likes likes Lucas
  • El apologizes for being so rude and they very quickly become thick as thieves
  • Much to the annoyance of Lucas and Mike, only because they want to spend time without the girls whispering and giggling to each other
  • Max teaches El what a secret is and how it’s different than a lie, so that way El won’t tell Mike or any of the others about Max’s crush on Lucas
  • ANYWAY
  • The party is having a sleepover one night in the Wheelers’ basement
  • The boys are being stupid and had put on Return of the Jedi for the thousandth time
  • The girls do like Star Wars and everything, but can they please watch something else ~ for once ~
  • Boys being their typical selves refuse because they still don’t understand that Max and El are girls and sometimes like watching cheesy things
  • Girls leave to go upstairs for snacks or something
  • Nancy finds them in the kitchen grumbling about how the boys never let them pick the movie
  • Nancy, being the awesome and cool older sister, invites them to watch Footloose with her in the living room
  • And OH MY GOD they love it
  • Yes, even Max, because El helps bring out her soft/girlie side ~ because it’s El, let’s be real. The girl is all heart-eyes for Mike Wheeler
  • So Nancy let’s El borrow the movie so she has something to watch besides just soaps when she’s stuck in the cabin
  • Max comes over to the cabin everyday
  • Even more than Mike, because we know Karen and we know Hop
  • Plus Hop totally knows something’s up with Max’s home life, so who the hell is he to not give her a safe space
  • And Max’s mom understands - obviously - why Max doesn’t want to be home, and at least if she’s at the police chief’s home, she’s not getting in trouble
  • So every time that it’s just El and Max at the cabin, they watch Footloose
  • They tried to watch it ONE TIME with the boys, but oh my god they wouldn’t stop whining
  • SO SNOWBALL
  • So when Footloose (the song) comes on after Every Breath You Take, El and Max naturally shove Mike and Lucas to the side and run to find each other
  • All the while squealing along with all the other girls in the gym
  • Much to the horror of all the boys
  • So the four boys re-congregate off to the side by the girls
  • Max and El are singing at the top of their lungs and doing some of the moves from the movie that they taught themselves, because of course they did
  • (EL ONLY DIDN’T KNOW HOW TO SLOW DANCE, OK?)
  • Eventually Dustin just shrugs and decides to join them
  • Because we all know that Dustin has some secretly awesome/hilarious moves
  • This makes El and Max laugh hysterically, of course, and they let him spin them because he’s their friend and practically their brother and they love him
  • Mike and Lucas are naturally getting pissy and jealous, because those are their girls
  • Will eventually shrugs too and grabs El’s hand to twirl her too, because they helped each other with their nightmares, so she’s the closest thing he has to a sister
  • Lucas eventually busts out some wicked dance move that he saw his dad do once at a family party, I mean the boy’s got rhythm
  • Mike is still being emo Mike until El twirls up to him, holding out her hand and goddamnit if he would be the one to ever not give her what she wants
  • So he starts doing this snapping head bob thing because have you seen the kid?! He’s all limbs and awkward af. So he adds in some side stepping, because it makes El giggle and laugh and good lord that’s the cutest fucking sound he’s ever heard.
  • And so the night goes

I might have listened to Footloose….. I might also hate myself, so no worries.

Clingy

Originally posted by pinkharold

This is so angsty, but I hope you guys enjoy! Thank you to whoever requested. Keep spreading the love. xx - L

You overhear Harry talking badly about you at a party.

Warnings: angsty, light smut

Word Count: 1,728

Keep reading

Refuge in Audacity

“Just a good friend, huh?” Marinette mutters to Tikki, who hums apprehensively as her chosen’s smile grows fiercer, more determined.

“Marinette…it’s not the worst thing.” She chides, snuggling against the girl’s warm cheek, before floating off to grab a cookie from the nearby plate.

“No…Its…actually brilliant! I’m super excited!” Marinette claps her hands with glee, turning to Tikki with bright eyes and a gaze that spoke of a plan being hatched.

Tikki merely laughs from behind a mouth full of sugar cookies and hopes that Marinette won’t go too far.

She should have given Marinette more credit. Marinette is intelligent. Marinette can be patient. Marinette is seeking refuge in this new claim of Adrien’s.

She begins by showing her regular affection for Alya even in front of him. It takes some effort to slough off the usual stiff shell she forms whenever he’s around, but clinging onto Alya and filling herself with affection for her best friends helps divert her anxiety.

Adrien looks on with find amusement as Marinette wraps her arms around Alya’s waist and proceeds to whine about her Chloe into her shoulder.

But Marinette is still sly, and she catches the way his fingers seem to twitch, and the way he hugs himself.

She takes it up a notch later that week when she slings an arm around Nino’s shoulders and presses her ear against his headphones to listen to the music drifting from them. Nino is a bit surprised, but he accepts it with a good natured laugh and draws Marinette into a conversation about composition and beat counts.

Adrien chimes in with a few questions, and Marinette notices the way his pretty eyes drift over to the arm she keeps around Nino. Interesting.

She decides she’ll start with something small. She’s still a little nervous, but she shakes out the snow in her bones and lets her trembling fingers tug on the edge of sleeve to catch his attention.

Adrien turns around abruptly, surprise devolving into the most tender smile as he realizes its her.

“What’s going on, Marinette?”

(Too pretty…he’s just a good friend. Swallow down all the rest, Marinette. Keep calm.)

“I uh…we uh…we were planning to go to the cafe later to study for the physics exam. Wanna come?”

She still hasn’t let go of his shirt sleeve, but he doesn’t seem to notice as he answers with the giddiest yes. She feels a vague pity for him, but decides that the next small step should be enough.

She gives him a playful punch to the shoulder.

“Cool.” She says.

“Cool.” He repeats. He hesitates for a bit, before tapping her twice on the shoulder and heading off.

The snow slowly overtakes her legs, and Marinette has to nearly wobble her way to scream into Alya’s shirt.

She finds him unexpectedly lonely on one of their outings.

Nino has already laced his fingers with Alya’s left hand. Alya’s right arm is hooked through Marinette’s. It’s a formation they’ve gotten used to overtime, and Adrien feels a little left out when he realizes how well they manage to maneuver all connected like this.

He misses it when Nino tries to offer him his free hand and Alya hisses something at him, her eyes drifting pointedly to Marinette who looks astonishingly like a ladybug with a very stark red painted across her freckled cheeks.

Marinette doesn’t hesitate however. She merely threads her arm under his, and hooks her elbow behind his.

“There.” She says with some finality, grinning up at him invitingly.

His eyes are wide, and the look of loss quickly chips away to reveal a sudden joy that’s nearly blinding. His arm tightens around hers until she’s pulled closer to his side.

“There.” He repeats happily, before leading them all to the nicest cafe he can treat them to.

Adrien finds himself at a loss. His heart stoppering up his throat until he can barely speak at all. Marinette’s touches have begun to burn him.

It’s been a few months since Marinette had begun to treat him with the same tactile affection she lavished on all her loved ones, and he’s found himself to be looking forward to those occasions.

She’d begun winding her arm around his waist in a casual side hug about two weeks back. He’d leaned into it with all the careful composure he could muster, but that had been a lie told by a stoic face. Inside he’s been a giddy, tangled mess.

Because with Marinette weaving these threads to pull him closer, she’s brought with her an unsettling sort of warmth that sears deep into him wherever she touches. He can feel the imprints of her fingertips as she musses his hair to make him look more dashing.

He can remember the trailing bits of stardust that lingered under his skin when she’d contemplated how smooth his face was. The little bits of sparklers that had crawled up his spine when she’d leapt and hugged him after a long winter break.

This strange feeling leaves him breathless. Wanting more. And theres a vague annoyance underneath all of that when Alya or Nino, or any one of the countless people that love Marinette, pull her away and are gifted her lavish affection too.

So he tugs on her arm a little closer when they all walk together. He ignores the knowing look Alya gives him over Marinette’s head.

Sometimes, when he’s feeling particularly cold or lonely after a long weekend at home, he’ll beeline towards Marinette and walk her to a more empty side of the courtyard as he engages her in conversations.

About fashion, about music, about anime, about food. Anything about her is fascinating and he’s just as greedy for this information about his newest good friend as he is for her casual tactility.

Thoughts of Ladybug are a little farther away these days, nestled deep in the secret part of his chest more useful for nights under city lights than for sunny days at school.

But here in daylight, Marinette is real and solid and so close.

He knows he’s being a little selfish like this, but he’ll let himself be hugged and coddled by his good friend because she seems completely fine with doing so.

There comes a time when his selfishness crosses a line. When they’re tired from playing several rounds of the newest Clash Bros game, and they’re sprawled across Marinette’s divan.

He’s as content as a cat with cream, his stomach pleasantly filled with pastries and hot chocolate. His head rests against Marinette’s, hers on his shoulder, legs stretched out and pressed together as they watch the an episode of a particularly sappy Korean drama.

She’s absently sketching patterns in the palm of his open hand, and has to put in effort not to close up his palm or let himself…let himself do what?

Marinette is just a good friend. And it’s late at night and he’s so sleepy and she’s so warm and here…she’s right here.

He’s being entirely selfish when he closes his fingers around hers. He’s being entirely selfish when she looks up at him in confusion and he drops his head down to kiss her.

He’s being entirely selfish…even when she pulls away in shock and disbelief, and his apologies tumble from his lips, lacking all sort of proper regret.

“I…I need to sleep. I’m tired.” Is all she says.

He wants to say sorry. To make her understand that he hadn’t meant to…that he’d done it all wrong…but her eyes are large and tearful in the shifting light of the television and that hurts him more so than anything else.

He hurt a good friend. And that’s nothing a simple apology could fix. He leaves with one last sorry.

He’s really screwed up. And the burning in his lips and his chest are far from pleasant when his burning shame eclipses it all.

It’s like starting from scratch. She’s so confused. She’d gotten so comfortable. The hurt in her chest at being called a friend had died and rebloomed as something that could only be termed utter content.

A good friend was what Adrien had needed more of. She’d seen the way he’d opened up after she’d changed how she approached him. The soft warmth of his hugs and the solid safety she felt with him and Alya at her side.

And then…when all her last remaining bits of romantic affection had nearly settled into memory, he’d kissed her.

One of her best friends had kissed her and she didn’t know where to start.

Her refuge in audacity had backfired and she’s unsure if it’s as welcome as she once wanted it to be.

Where to go from here?

Where to go isnt that difficult a question. How to do it is the conundrum.

She avoids him. And he doesn’t chase after her.

But he’s too selfish to let her go completely out of his life and he’s determined not to let her slip away. He misses her warmth. And if good friendship is the most he can ask for, then he’ll take it. Marinette is worth it all.

So he starts small. He manages to catch her unawares one day. He tugs on her sleeve to catch her attention.

“We’re uh…Nino and Alya want to go to the aquarium for the lab assignment? Want to go as a group?”

Marinette’s eyes nearly swallow her face while when she looks at him. She recoils away, and he lets the fabric of her sleeve slip through his grip as she steps back to look at him.

He offers her a small, hopeful smile. Full of unworded apologies. She looks wary, ready to run.

He doesn’t notice it, but he crosses his arms and hunches over, to stop the pain that radiates from his chest from spreading any further.

That seems to change something in her assessment.

She looks fierce and determined as she steps up to him, places a playful punch to his shoulder.

“Cool.” She offers. And she still isn’t quite close to him, but small starts are great.

Relief suffuses him and its without any guile that he taps her shoulder twice and answers-

“Cool.”

Her gaze softens at his earnest happiness, and she seems hesitant, before she opens her arms a little wider to welcome a hug.

Adrien lets loose the wildest single bark of laughter he can manage, before pulling her close and burying his relief in her shoulder.

“Cool.” He repeats. “Thank you, Marinette.”

She winds her arms around him, holding him tight and realizing just how much she’d missed him. Regardless of what her feelings are now, there’s still time to examine them later. Whatever that kiss had meant to him is a whole other conversation to be had, perhaps after some more recovery.

For now, good friendship is the best sort of reward and she has the audacity to enjoy to its fullest.

More Q&A!

thepurplewarlock said:Hi Cassie. Oh my gosh the latest lot of information that has been released has given me so many questions. But I will try to stick to one: From the latest snippet, Kit and Ty go back to the Shadow Market. Which one of them instigated this trip. Both have their reasons (Kit as it’s a place he knows, Ty as he does something as a result of Livvy’s death, and maybe he needs something from the Shadow Market to help him) of their own. Or do they go because someone asked and they are friends?

As you say, they both have their reasons, so I’d say they both instigated it — Ty because he wants something, and Kit because he thinks that’s where Ty can get it.

Hey Cassie are we going to see what happens to the Lightwoods after Robert died? Like will we see their reaction and his funeral? Thank so much! <3

Yes, we will, though they are not the central characters — we see them through the eyes of the Blackthorns, Emma and Kit.

samnlohz said:Hi Cassie! I loved LoS (it was so heartbreaking, btw, and I can’t wait to read QoAaD) but I have a question for you. In LoS it is mentioned that all the warlocks are having this “disease”, and I remembered that Tessa was suffering it too. So, how is she dealing with it? And Jem? Are you gonna break our hearts again with both of them? Anyway, I still love you.

I can’t speak to broken hearts, but the warlock sickness is a serious issue in QUAD — they’re all getting sick, including Tessa. It is left to the Shadowhunters to try to figure out how to save them.

catarinalosss said:will Shade reveal his/her identity in qoaad?

DEFINITELY!

bluiiieee said:Did you consider any other characters for the QOAAD cover? a lot of people thought it would be Cristina or the Queen, I had a feeling since the end of LOS that it would be Annabel especially because it mirrors the final TMI book which also had the villain on the cover. I’m in LOVE with the final cover you chose!

I’m glad you like it! No, no other characters were considered besides Annabel. There are reasons for that that have to do with the plot of the book. The Queen of Air and Darkness is a sinister figure, and the poem from which her name comes makes it clear she is sinister as well. The artist’s idea for the cover was always “a figure rising over ruins, in blood and destruction.” It simply wouldn’t have made sense for that to be someone other than Annabel except perhaps the Unseelie King which would have been confusing on a book called “Queen of Air and Darkness.” You are correct it fits with having Sebastian on the cover of Glass — and remember he is on the cover of Heavenly Fire as well!

Borrowed Time

The series where Harry is mute

Part 1

Masterlist linked in bio


Y/n never went back home. Instead, she spends winter break in the confines of Harry’s apartment—wrapped up in between his bedsheets to keep warm.

The usually cold and brutal winter that always made their skin numb is now warm to them—skin always accompanied by one another’s and feeling more than ever before. And with the mix of never ending company and the feel of the music that always seems to be playing in his apartment, they couldn’t have asked for a better way to start off their relationship.

They never do anything extravagant—never do anything that could take time away from one another. It’s in their simplicity do they find a sense of comfort throughout the festive season. They feel happiest in their own little world—away from everything and everyone, just focusing on them being together without any distractions.

With being so consumed by one another, they’ve learned more about each other than ever before—spending most days watching their favorite movies and baking new recipes they found in Harry’s favorite Christmas cookbook and spending the nights cuddled up against one another as Y/n somehow finds new things to talk about.

Each day, they fall in love with each other all over again. It’s as if their hearts unravel and trap each other in—giving them no means of escape, but neither of them want to.

Whenever she spends the night at his apartment, Harry has to spend nearly an hour each morning just to fight her from getting out of bed. It’s become a routine, Harry having to pull her from the edge of the bed so that he can cradle her back in his arms while she giggles and mumbles some excuses he doesn’t have the energy to listen to.

He just really, really, really loves the feel of her first thing in the morning, especially when the brutal feel of the blistering winds finds its way to his apartment. She’s much warmer than usual and her eyes are brighter and always glistened against the sun. Her lips, too—they are always so much fuller somehow that even in his mild awareness, he finds himself kissing them before he finally lets her slip away from the comfort of the sheets.

But this morning—this morning is different.

After a Christmas night filled with passion and inexperienced intimacy, Harry really doesn’t want to let her go. He’d much rather feel her uncovered body up against his all morning—soaking each other up and holding one another until the sun sets into the night.

It just sounds so right, to keep each other near and close after giving each other their last bit of innocence. Everything they had to offer one another was taken and used to make them whole, so that’s how they should be—together and whole for as long as they possibly can.

But when Harry feels Y/n begin to stir her way out of his arms, he knows she has very different plans.

And he’s just not having it.

He whimpers in his slumbered state, pulling her back against his chest with eyes half-lidded and breathing still steady. He’s holding onto her like never before, refusing to feel her side of the bed empty. He needs her, her, her, anywhere and everywhere as long as it’s with him. And despite having every bit of her last night, he hasn’t gotten enough and he needs her more.

She giggles softly against his neck, gingerly kissing the exposed skin as her fingers run along his jaw. She can already feel him falling back asleep from her touch, a content sigh leaving his lips at their closeness.

“Love, I gotta get up. Y’know me, can’t stay in bed once I’m awake.”

He groans as he shakes his head, somehow filling up the smallest of empty spaces between them and tucking his head into her shoulder. His nose is right up against her skin and he can smell her usual scent—vanilla and lavender from her usual body wash but much more filthy than usual.

She giggles again when she feels his bottom lip poke at her shoulder, her fingers reaching to his hair as she combs through it.

“Oh, none of that, H.” She tisks, thumbing the very exaggerated pout on his lips. “I’ll be right downstairs, won’t be going anywhere far.”

He rolls his body off of her, his back hitting against the mattress with a whine. His eyes remain closed but there’s a very noticeable furrow between his brows, and Y/n begins to wonder what he’s so worried about.

She frowns down at him, observing the rise of his goosebumps from the morning cold on his bare chest. It looks empty and lifeless without her head upon it, and though his body is no stranger to her, there’s something about it that seems much more inviting and she yearns to keep it closer than ever.

And she gets it—she gets his exaggerated whining and the worry in his eyes. After everything that happened to them the night before, he can’t leave her—he can't—and that’s exactly what she’s doing to him, even if it’s only a floor away.

Almost as if to reassure him, she goes with the feel of her heart and decides to spend the next couple hours of the freezing morning right beside him.


Harry loves watching Y/n in her most natural hours.

Her chest and elbows are leaning against the surface of the kitchen counter, one hand holding a mug of coffee while the other flips the pages of her favorite poetry book. Her upper body is clad with Harry’s favorite sweatshirt—ending right at the end of her underwear—leaving her legs exposed and on full display for all of Harry to see.

Despite her hair fully knotted and having an overall disheveled look to her, Harry decides that she looks best this way—in a way nobody other than him has gotten the chance to see—as if she was made for his eyes only.

And he has never seen such a beautiful sight in his life as she looks at him with the softest and most delicate of eyes, a small smile resting on her lips at his presence. Every bit of her looks inviting—like a place of comfort Harry could forever shield himself in.

She’s become so much more than his girlfriend—so much more than someone to call his own—she’s become his muse and his home, his haven and everything in between.

“You always look at me with longing even when I’m right here with you.”

He blinks at her, watching as her cheeks flush with pink under the watch of his amused eyes, loving how easily tranced he becomes in her.

She’s never been confident in herself. Ever since she was a little girl, she used her friendliness to somehow distract people from what she truly felt on the inside. She never truly touched base with her insecurities and never wanted to, so she always found ways to push the most damaging thoughts in the back of her head.

But Harry changed everything. He made her feel beautiful and loved in every way possible, she almost doesn’t understand how he could have so much of that love in him—especially for her. From the way he holds her all throughout the night to the small kisses and gestures whenever he has the chance, she feels it everywhere and she almost feels it in herself.

His sheepish smile confirms her statement, knowing fully that there will never be a moment he doesn’t want her, no matter where she is.

He walks slowly over to her, the smile never fading from his lips and the blush creeping back to Y/n’s cheeks as she turns her body to stretch her arms out at him. It’s the smallest moments like this that make them grateful for the kind of love they share—together.

He presses his lips to hers tenderly when he feels her fingers run across his stomach, his own fingers pushing the material of his sweatshirt up towards her breasts so that he can brush against the swell of them.

“Beautiful.” He whispers, quickly returning back to her lips as they softly release a whimper from the detachment.

She tastes so good—a mix of bitter and sweet from her coffee, leaving his mouth wanting more and more with each passing second. And what was supposed to be innocent turned to lust before they knew it—their movements much more haste and impatient.

In the midst of their desperation, Harry pushes her hips further against the edge of the counter, fingers digging into her skin as his mouth parts open with hers. They both moan into one another, completely consumed by the feeling of their relentless hands and feverish kisses.

Her hands are against his stomach, rubbing along his torso when he hitches her legs around his waist, leaving Harry in control of whatever it is that’s unfolding. Her squeal turns into a moan when his hips collide with hers, the friction making her head spin and body yearn for more.

He feels her hands creep toward the waistband of his sweatpants while his hands bundle up the sweatshirt over her breasts so that they’re fully exposed to him—revealing the most delicate parts of her.

And right as his lips attach to the valley of them, the ringing of the telephone breaks them from their moment.

“H—Harry, the phone.” Y/n gasps.

But he shows no sign of stopping when his teeth sink into an already bruised hickie from the night before, leaving her with shaking fingers between his hair and withering from the soreness. And he really can’t stop, because she feels like no other and she’s so addicting in every way possible. He wants her all to himself.

The answering machine almost dissolves into pure background noise for the both of them, too caught up in the moment.

“Hi, Harry, it’s your mum.”

Only five words and Harry feels the air being knocked right out of his lungs—seizing all his movements and thoughts as Y/n is left completely confused and panting upon the kitchen counter.

"I know it’s been a while and a lot has ended quite messy, but your father does miss you and well—we all miss you, Harry. We would really love for you to come over for dinner tonight as a late Christmas celebration. You don’t have to, but we’ll have an extra seat for you. And—uh—I love you so much. I wish you the best. Please call me soon.”

It’s as if the world around him is spinning faster than ever before—his brain overwhelmed with scrambled thoughts and ears ringing from the anxiety.

There would have been nothing to prepare him for this moment. He never thought he’d ever see his father again—much less be invited back over to his house after everything that’s happened. It’s been so long, he genuinely thought it was over—he thought all of the pain and fear was over, but his biggest nightmare is coming to life and he feels sick to his stomach.

His father is why he’s like this—mute and anxious in social situations. If his dad hadn’t repeatedly torn him down for never being good enough—hadn’t made him believe nobody would ever talk to a little shy boy—he would have probably gained the confidence to speak the more he matured.

But because his father shunned him for being shy and never making any friends, Harry was terrified of what people would think of him if he ever did make friends. Because if his own father didn’t love him, how could anybody else?

Y/n notices the tears in his eyes and his shallow breathing, which she’s quick to mend when her hands reach up to his cheeks. They’re hot and flushed, but all for the wrong reasons.

She frowns, lips peppering small kisses along his face in an attempt to bring him back to her. She doesn’t know much—or really anything—about Harry’s family life; all she knows is that she has never seen a picture of them in his house or any validation that he ever truly had one.

But as she catches the glimpse of fear in his eyes and the small quivering of his lips, he knows very well that there must have been something that went wrong. And even if she doesn’t know what it is that he went through, she knows that if he decides to do this or not, she’ll be right there with him.

“You’re scared.” She whispers, thumbs rubbing against his cheeks softly. “What is it you’re afraid of, baby? Talk to me, please.”

He squeezes his eyes shut, his lips pursing together as loose tears fall from his eyes.

He’s never talked about his family problems and because all of this has happened so quickly, his words get trapped in his throat. To genuinely talk about his family and come to terms with his emotions seems all too much for him, especially when it’s hard for him to speak in the first place.

Y/n clicks her tongue while shaking her head softly, wrapping her around his neck as he nests his cheek into her shoulder. His muscles instantly relax in her arms and has a sense of clarity in her comfort, but there’s still an undeniable thumping in his chest that just can’t seem to go away.

“You don’t have to talk about this, love, but maybe this will be good for you. You know, to test the waters with your family. Maybe this could help you in the long run.”

And he wants to believe her—he really, really fucking wants to believe her—but he knows he can’t. Anywhere in his father’s path is detrimental to Harry’s social anxiety and he knows it’ll only make this worse for him in the long run.

“Y/n.” Harry groans, detaching her arms from his neck so that he can stand properly. His teeth are grit and eyes are distant—looking anywhere but her own and he swallows thickly around his words. “There’s a reason I don’t talk to anybody.”

His words are cracked and desperate—like a plea for Y/n to understand that this is different, that there will never be a day he’ll be able to face his problems. There have been too many times he’s found his way back and he always walks away with a damaged heart.

Y/n watches the way his fingers fiddle around one another and how he can’t stand still, it’s like watching the battle in Harry’s head and watching him fall apart from it.

And no matter how much she loves him now—the way he is now, even without much speaking—she doesn’t want to watch him suffer for the rest of his life. He’s the most undeserving man, he deserves the world and she knows he does.

His heart is nothing but pure and damaged—in need of mending and love. It’s the best part of him, really. It’s what brought them together and she feels the need to protect it at all costs.

He doesn’t feel it, though. He doesn’t feel what his heart has to offer and doesn’t see how it makes him so strong. He only sees himself as a ruin—a lost cause with nothing left to fight for, and he doesn’t deserve it. After what he’s been through, she needs him to understand that he is so much more than he thinks he is.

Because he is—he really is—no matter what he believes.

She holds his head in her hands to distract him from his consuming thoughts. His eyes shift in her gaze as he lets out a small breath.

“I just think it’ll be best to try again. I know—I see how hard it is for you to live the way that you do and I want to be here for you through everything. Things could be different this time—things could actually end well and you might be able to push through this. Because I know you, Harry, more than anybody else right now and I know you can push through this.”

She presses her forehead against his with a sigh leaving her lips, her thumbs running along his knuckles.

“And if there is any point you feel uncomfortable or upset, we can walk right out and leave. Just know that I will be there for you no matter what, okay? Just asking for you to try.”

It’s because she sounds so sure of herself that Harry actually agrees to go to the dinner. He knows that if it were a matter of him going alone, he would never even consider it. But knowing she is going to be right by his side—holding his hand through it all—maybe he doesn’t have to be so scared.

Maybe, it’ll actually be different this time.


It’s not different.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, it’s really not any different than he expected it to be.

Upon their arrival, Harry’s mum and sister nearly fainted from seeing him at the front door. They thought their invitation would go dismissed, like the way Harry’s ignored them for the past three years. But looking at him for the first time in what felt like forever, they were nothing short of thrilled.

And to make it even better, he brought a girl. Harry was holding her hand tightly, keeping her tucked right into his side so that he could feel her with every step he took.

Anne and Gemma swore they had never seen something so heartwarming in their life—to the point where tears sprung from their eyes and arms flinging around their bodies. Y/n didn’t even have to introduce herself properly for them to love and approve of her, anybody who gets Harry to open up—in any way possible—is enough for them.

He was calm when it was just the four of them, Harry watching Y/n hit it off with his family so effortlessly. He noticed the fondness in all their eyes and this was how he wanted it to be forever.

But once they sat down for dinner, Harry knew something was about to happen.

His father didn’t acknowledge neither him nor Y/n in the slightest. Instead, he acted as if they weren’t there and only carried conversations with the rest of his family. And Harry wasn’t sure if he preferred it that way or not—wasn’t sure if he’d rather have his father at least notice him and hate him or have his father neglect him.

Y/n was trying to make the best out of the situation and he could tell. She found her way to the conversations even if his father didn’t respond to her, and still remained her perky self while doing so. She seemed unfazed through it all, almost like she didn’t feel the overwhelming amount of tension that surrounded the room.

She does it for him, though. She knew that if she showed just how uncomfortable his father was making her—he’d never be able to survive this dinner. She had to play strong enough for his sake.

But now that dinner has passed by and all that’s left are empty plates of food and mindless mingling, Harry feels nothing short of uncomfortable and misplaced under his father’s glare. It’s as if he’s waiting for Harry to speak out in the conversation, or do much of anything to make his presence known.

Y/n can see the soft shaking of Harry’s head and can feel the sweat on his palms with each passing second—just waiting for the end of the night so that they can go home and be alone at last.

“You know, Y/n, I never thought Harry would have a girlfriend.”

It’s the first time tonight his father spoke to Y/n directly, making the conversation she was having with Gemma come to a pause as she looked over at him with confusion. There’s a small pout on her lips as she tilts her head in question, almost unsure as to what he was implying. He has no expression on his face, only a small scoff and disapproving look in his eyes.

“How so? He’s lovely, any girl would be very lucky to have him. I’m just happy it’s me who does.”

Her fingers squeeze his thigh under the tablecloth; as if to tell him that there’s nothing to worry about. If his father wants to try hard enough to get to Harry, he has to try to get through her, first.

His father grumbles, his eyes shifting away from hers. The tenseness is his body seems to lighten, though, when an almost sadistic laugh falls from his lips—finding whatever he’s thinking quite amusing and entertaining.

“Isn’t it disheartening? Doesn’t it get boring, to be with a little boy who can’t even get his mouth to open? You seem to be a very intelligent, mature lady—I can tell by the way you talk. Don’t you think it’s a man’s purpose to be with somebody like you?”

Harry squeezes his eyes shut, trying to silence the sudden voices in his head and focus on the feel of Y/n’s tightening hand.

All the childhood fights, all the times Harry had crawled underneath his bed during the night to get away from it all, and all the times Harry almost had the guts to speak up for himself only to be shut down from his father are all replaying in Harry’s head.

The anxiety creeps to his bones and in his muscles, straining him of all that’s left of his strength and leaving him with nothing but a shaking body and lack of control. Every part of him that felt alive before all of this is slowly dying at the seems—ready to be ripped out on his father’s account.

In any other situation, Y/n would have kept her mouth shut if it meant getting the support and approval of Harry’s family. But this—the way he’s talking about Harry as if he’s not right next to her, disrespecting him for something beyond his control is just not okay with her.

She’d rather stand up for the man she loves and believes in instead of watching him suffer in silence—the way his mum and sister are—with fear.

“Harry may not be a man of many words, but he’s the best thing I’ve got. There is so much more to him than his voice. There is so much more to him than you will ever know because you decided to be a shit father and give up on him without giving him a chance. He holds so much more potential than you could ever see, and that’s what’s wrong here. Harry’s not the problem, him being mute is not the problem, it’s you. Because why is it that everybody else can accept him and love him for who he is besides you?!”

The aftermath of her words silences everything around them. Nobody moves, nobody dares makes a sound besides their harsh breathing, because there could be something that makes either one of them snap and nobody wants to be the one to do so.

Y/n’s hands are in fists upon the table, eyes locked with his in fury and jaw so tight she almost doesn’t even look like herself. She’s turned into an entirely different woman with just the thought of Harry getting into harm’s way.

And although Harry really wants to show her appreciation for her words, he’s too panicked that he’s going to die from not being able to fucking breathe.

The silence is overwhelming, but Y/n is not giving up on him—on Harry. He had to live through this for far too long and she’s not allowing it anymore. He deserves better than this treatment—deserves better than to be looked down upon by somebody who’s supposed to be his provider.

“He’s the best thing you’ve got, yeah?”

His father is playing with his bottom lip, eyes narrowed and eyes in the same unpleasant manner as before. His voice is softer, though, more understanding than before and they both don’t know what to expect out of the conversation.

Y/n nods without hesitation, “He is.”

He watches as Y/n looks more determined and positive as ever, not a doubt or a trace of a lie in her features.

She means it—with her whole heart—she means it and she’ll never let anybody make her go back on her word. And she doesn’t have to say it twice, because Harry knows she’s genuine when she says it.

“You must have a very pathetic life, then.”

Harry’s eyes don’t move from their trance on the table—his body doesn’t make a move under his words. This is just how it always ends, and he just don’t know why he still fucking comes back here every goddamn time.

His throat is tight and his eyes are filled with tears. His skin is full of sweat and he swears his heart is beating much faster than it should. And even though he’s experienced this all before, knowing Y/n is being belittled by his father too makes it worse.

"We’re done here.” Y/n says sternly, grabbing ahold of Harry’s hand.

Y/n could have stood up for Harry much more, but she knew that if she started an even bigger brawl than what was already unfolding, Harry wouldn’t have been able to handle it.

He’s already drained of color and crying silently within his lost mind, and she’s absolutely terrified for his health.

She’s nearly dragging him out the door, Harry occasionally tripping over his own feet as he’s being drowned with the voices and the thumping in his chest. The world around him seems to be drowning and he can’t keep up with it all.

He just can’t.

“You can’t only keep her around because she’s the only one that’ll fight your battles for you, Harry! It’s only a matter of time before she realizes that you have nothing to offer her! You can’t give her anything with the way you are. You’re worthless!”

Before he could spew any more insults in Harry’s way, Y/n shuts the door in his face.


Harry knows his father was right.

In the long run, he doesn’t have much to offer her. He can’t be the boyfriend that she deserves to have.

He can’t be the boyfriend that can remind her of how much she’s loved or cared for. He can’t be the boyfriend to sing her to sleep whenever she can’t, or be the boyfriend to say his vows at their wedding for all to hear. He can’t be the boyfriend that—God forbid something were to happen to her—can ask for somebody to help her, or be the boyfriend to sway her family’s heart.

He can’t be anything to her besides somebody that she can sleep with at night and wake up to in the morning. Because that’s all it will be, and she’ll get so tired of being the one to be the only one talking to the other.

He’s nothing in her life, and that’s exactly why he can’t look at her anymore.

“Can you please just say something to me, Harry? I need to know why you’re upset with me or else we can never work through this.”

But how can they work through this when he can’t talk to her the way she wants him to?

Instead of answering right away, Harry presses on the gas pedal even harder than before. In the mix of all his emotions—anger, frustration, sad, and absolutely terrified—the only proper thought that can retain in Harry’s mind is dropping Y/n back to her apartment so that she doesn’t have to keep torturing herself with him.

The longer he feels her presence next to him, the more he realizes that he can’t love her the way she deserves to be loved—even if he really, really, really does love her with every ounce of his being.

“It was only—“ He swallows thickly, “It was only a matter of time before this was going to happen, Y/n.”

Her eyebrows furrow in confusion as she turns her head over to Harry, who has his lips pursed in a straight line while his eyes remain on the road.

There’s something different in him, now—something unreadable in his expressions and it’s something she’s never seen before. He seems broken somehow, like a man who’s been damaged one too many times that he’s become numb—emotionless with nothing left to feel.

“Before what was going to happen, Harry?”

She has an idea about what his words meant, but she doesn’t want to believe it. Not coming from him—not coming from the man who’s shown her nothing but how much love he has for her. There’s no way he could be doing this to her. He can’t do this to her.

“We were never going to last, Y/n. This was over long ago, we’re just on borrowed time.”

Borrowed time.

The sound of it leaves an unusually disturbing churn in Y/n’s stomach and a foul taste in her mouth. She feels as though Harry is taking his own hand and digging into Y/n’s chest, just so that he can grab ahold of Y/n’s heart and rip it to shreds himself.

Her hand subconsciously grabs onto the handle of the car door, eyes glistening with tears and lungs not daring to breathe. The air—instead of it being filled with their love—is now thicker and colder than ever.

She’s never been so confused—so lead on and so scared as to what is happening to them. They were supposed to make this last, they were supposed to make each other happy for the rest of their lives. He promised her he would, too—promised her nothing but love and trust in him.

But what is happening to them?

“How long have you thought that?”

She was tentative to ask, but she just has to know. She has to know if she’s done everything she’s done for nothing or if it actually held some sort of purpose at the time.

She’s terrified beyond words to find out the answer.

“Before or after you decided to sleep with me?”

Harry doesn’t want to make it seem like he never wanted this—never wanted her. He doesn’t want to make her think that he went through all that he did with her just to expect them to break up so soon. Because he didn’t, he never did. He would have never let her give him her virginity if he knew all of this was going to happen.

He loves her too much to do that to her, but also loves her enough to set her free.

So he decides to not answer her because not saying anything at all is easier for him than saying something he doesn’t mean. And he knows he will if it means letting her go and letting her move onto bigger and better things.

And it’s in his silence and twitch of his eyes does she find his answer.

“So you didn’t mean what you said last night. That we fit perfectly—that it’s like we’re meant to be? Or were they just words to you?”

A sob rips from inside of her when he still gives her nothing. She has never felt so hurt before—has never felt so betrayed. And suddenly, her skin feels dirty—sickened by what he’s done to her and how she could have been so stupid as to let it happen.

She feels it now, too. She feels the way his hands touched her that night, the way his lips kissed her that night, the way his hips rutted against hers and she feels so fucking filthy—used and used and used just for his own personal gain.

“Stop the car.”

It’s a weak demand, but Harry is pained to hear it. He has to hold himself back from comforting her and saying how terribly sorry he is for lying to her the way he is. But it’s just easier this way.

“I said stop the fucking car, Harry!”

Her yelling makes him flinch, and without hesitation makes him pull over to the side of the road. And the second he does so, he knows he shouldn’t have because he’d never be able to live with himself if he let Y/n walk in the cold alone, especially at night.

And right as he’s about to turn back, the sound of her hysteria makes his stop everything he’s doing. Her sobs are relentless in her hands and the thickest of tears fall from Harry’s eyes when he looks at the damage he’s done.

She looks helpless and utterly destroyed—he would have never thought of doing this to her if he’d known this is what would come out of it.

His heart is breaking at the sight of her like this.

As if on instinct, Harry reaches his hand over to her shoulder in an attempt to keep her calm. And even when they’re so close, they have never felt more emotionally distant than they do right now.

“No! Don’t touch me! Don’t you ever touch me again!”

She isn’t sure if she means it or not, but the devastating look Harry gives her at her words proves that he knows she did.

The second his touch leaves hers, he feels them falling apart.

It really is over now.

She’s never felt more pathetic and humiliated in her life. Everything she thought was so real ended up being one of the biggest lies she’s ever lived. He had her fooled for months now and she had not a single clue—but she guesses that’s what happens when she falls in love too quickly.

She feels easy.

She swallows her cries as she opens the car door, not knowing where the hell she is or where the hell she’s going, but knowing that no matter where she ends up, it’ll be much better than being with him. 

“I hate you. I never want to see you again, not after this. Not after all that you’ve done to me.”

Harry’s eyes widen at her words, mouth falling open and a gasp falling from his lips. The reality of her words hits him with so much force that he genuinely feels every last bit of him fall apart.

And it’s when she walks away from him—from his life—that he breaks.

He chokes out a sob as his fingers grip the steering wheel, eyes as wide as ever and mouth not daring to shut.

Everything hurts. Every bone in his body feels like it’s breaking and every muscle feels like they’re tearing apart. It hurts so fucking much and Harry can’t stop crying, throwing his head back against the car seat as his hand hits the steering wheel in the midst of his hysteria.

She hates him.

But it’s better this way.

let’s just talk for a moment here. 

I’m gonna say itLena Luthor loves Kara Danvers. loves her. and there are soooo many reasons why. 

first, let’s just list the reasons off the bat, then I’ll explain my reasonings. 

  • donuts
  • lip bites/glances/looks
  • the thirst factor
  • food dates
  • meeting Alex
  • gala
  • flowers
  • her heroics
  • “I’ve never stood behind a man” 
  • “I’m here for you, if you still want that”
  • “I miss you”
  • “I didn’t see your name on the by line”/ “unquit”
  • “I trust you”/Catco
  • heart emoji

ok let’s get started:

first, the doughnuts.

 lena is known for eating healthy. she drinks kombucha. she gets kara to probably eat vegetables. y’know the regular. probably is on a no carb diet. we never see her eating anything bad, because she’s probably been preened all her life to be picture perfect and eat only what’s good for you. but here comes her bff, her gal pal kara danvers, traipsing in with a bag of doughnuts. this happened a couple times, actually. lena indulged in a doughnut for kara. 

the lip bites, holy fuck. I’m going to tie this in with the glances too. because holy mother of god. 

lena is always checking kara out, biting her lip (most likely surprising moans bc hot damn she’s in love with this woman) and the looks. the looks of. pure. unadulterated. love. 

I mean you cannot tell me the look on lena’s face is anything but love? come on. even a blind man could tell. 

next, lena’s thirst factor. 

girl, she is always, always, (almost) always seen with a drink when around kara! 

exhibit A: their first meeting, lena has to pause and get herself a damn glass of water

exhibit B: granted, yes they’re at a restaurant, but lena’s got an almost empty glass, bc hot damnvers kara is something. (lets take in account that kara’s glass is empty)

exhibit C: in the most recent episode 3.01, lena is yet again, shown pouring herself some water bc girl is thirsty af 

exhibit D: oh looky here, Lena’s getting a drink. I am pretty sure Kara just makes her speechless and she needs water to talk

exhibit E: y’all see where I’m going with this, right?

their brunch/lunch/dinner/kombucha dates

lena always seems to have a food date with kara. always. I mean it’s one thing to have one on occasion but they’re known to have these? and I know damn well that kara isn’t always the one to initiate them. lena is probably the one to invite her because she’s rich and offers to feed kara’s immense appetite. 

what about the first time lena was introduced to Alex properly?

this. this is the face of jealousy. she shows up unannounced at kara’s apartment (where’d she even get kara’s address?) and sees this beautiful woman in kara’s apartment and she’s jealous af, and Alex doesn’t let on anything. doesn’t, for a split second, let on that she’s kara’s sister, because I’m pretty sure she knew what Lena’s thoughts were. she knew for a flash of a second, lena was actually jealous, but ew gross, kara is her sister, and that’s when kara finally speaks up, and Lena’s face softens, and she remembers what she actually came over for… 

the gala

she invites, not only kara and supergirl to the gala, but kara’s man friend, mike of the interns, because she doesn’t care. if kara’s friends with this person, she figures she can trust this person too, who tf cares if you met them five seconds ago and could’ve easily told him “It’s an elite party, and I’m inviting kara as my plus one, sorry” but no, she extends an invitation to mike of the interns…

the flowers: plumerias

these are plumerias, for anyone who hasn’t seen them before. they come in all different colors, ranging from blues, pinks, purples, melon, peach, yellow and white. they are an exotic flower, and a bit hard to come by. they have to be imported, usually from Hawaii. they have a few different meanings, but in Chinese, they symbolize love. they mean “I love you” and “you are special” 

and kara’s office, just so happens to be overflown with flowers, most likely plumerias because she mentioned they remind her of her mother, and lena would totally import those flowers and fill her office as a thank you to saving her just because she loves kara. and you know damn well she knows what those flowers mean. she’s smart, we’ll touch on this fact later.

lena being a hero

she is.. its a fact. whether it’s supergirl or kara danvers’s hero, national city’s hero, or anyone’s hero, lena is a hero. 

lena chooses kara and being the hero and will always choose kara and being the hero. when it came to saving jack or saving supergirl, she chose kara over her ex-lover. and we can probably assume that because a) lena is young and b) lena is a luthor, jack was probably her only real relationship. she did love him, you could tell with the emotion from the kiss and even the relaxed-ness of her date with him, they were friends. and she did miss is company, though she wouldn’t date him again. yet then it comes to kara, as supergirl, and she has to choose whether to save jack or end his life to save national city’s hero. she chooses to let jack go, therefore ultimately killing him so she can save kara. she also saves kara’s man child boyfriend from the evil daxamite guard. by shooting him with an alien gun. and she and Winn made whatever that thing was under the table at the gala and it stopped those evildoers from attacking supergirl, and the kicker, my favorite, saving the whole population of national city, not once, but fucking twice.

in s2e8 lena, after finding out her mother is the ringleader of CADMUS, and kara ultimately yells at her and accuses her of knowing what her mother did, etc, still saves national city. she undermines her mother, weasels her way onto her mother’s good side, double-crosses her and makes the medusa virus inert, therefore saving national city’s population of aliens when the only friend she had hated her for the moment. she could’ve easily just given in and killed all the aliens, but she didn’t. she chose to save them because she loves kara and her pro-alien bleeding heart views, even when they sometimes disagree and fight. 

and then again in s2e22, lena, and with the help of Lillian, build a device to rid the planet of the daxamites invading earth. a device that sends out lead into the atmosphere. and she knows what it’ll do. she knows that it’s going to send Mon-el away, and you know she was lowkey happy about that, but she knows it’ll put kara through hell, yet she let’s kara make the ultimate decision to choose whether to go on with it, and kara does. supergirl tells them to use the device. and lena yet again, saves everyone, all because she loves kara and kara is her hero.

and let’s not forget the best time lena was a hero and shot Corbin, therefore saving none other than Special Agent Alex Danvers with the DEO… hot damn, she’s my hero.

lena’s never stood behind a man

*eh hem* I’ll just leave these here. two examples of lena never standing behind a man, because she’s independent and fierce, but Kara is always protecting her and she lets kara/supergirl. we know damn well lena can hold her own, she is a Luthor after all, but she lets kara take the forefront and she stands behind her with grace and poise and love and admiration. 

“I’m here for you, if you still want that”

Lena knows the hell kara is going through. she knows that kara lost her man child thing of a boyfriend she liked for five days. and kara is going through hell. and yet, she’s still cautious. I think this is one of the most significant things ever and we’re going to dissect for a second here. in the second image: kara tells lena “I’m right here” letting lena know she can talk to her and she wants her to, she’s almost willing her to. 

yet in the top image, lena adds the “if you still want that”. she is letting kara know a few things here. a) that she feels guilty over the lead being released in the atmosphere b) she doesn’t want to use kara, because she’s not a talker herself. her walls are always built up so sturdy until kara breaks them down with her super strength and c) she doesn’t want to lose kara. she’s letting her know she’s there if kara wants her because its kara’s choice. she’s not going to force kara into being her friend just because kara is the only friend she has in national city and she will be ready to help kara any way she needs when the time comes. 

“I miss you” 

this also follows with the “if you still want that” because she’s telling kara that she’s being ignored, but she’s not pushing. she knows that kara is distancing herself. but she still lets kara know in a subtle way that she’s still here, she still loves her and that she truly misses her best friend. she just misses her. she misses Kara Danvers, the girl she’s falling in love with more and more as each day passes.

“I didn’t see your name on the by line”/”unquit”

now, first off, kara does anything lena suggests. Lena suggests, she become a reporter and guess who becomes one? Kara. lena tells her in such an unprofessional manner to “unquit” her job. and according to my laptop, unquit isn’t even a word, yet it came out of poised, perfect, prestined Lena Luthor’s mouth. “unquit” 

so kara unquits, and lena sends a heart emoji

a red heart emoji. man, do I have some words about this. Lena, you little lesbian in love with your bestie, damn. lena could’ve easily replied back with a “okay” or “sounds great” or even a “see you tomorrow!” or if we’re going the emoji route: a smiley face, a thumbs up, or fuck idk, a yellow heart? because lena is very, very, very smart. and we all know she knows the meanings that colors represent. like how yellow means happiness, friendship, sunshine, and energy, yet miss luthor sent kara a red heart. red meaning love, passion, heat. you can’t tell me she doesn’t know what they meant. she could’ve replied with so many different ways, yet she chooses a red heart.

and lets not forget the last points: lena buys fricken catco–– “I trust you”

lena “I bought your job for you and I have no fucking idea how to run catco” luthor bought a multimillion dollar corporation so a sexist bottle of cheap cologne couldn’t and she has literally no idea how to run the company, yet she’s enlisting and trusting her best friend and the woman she likes to run it with her. she bought kara a company. because kara asked and she 

lena just dropped everything, and potentially could ruin her career for this woman, and she did it all out of love. 

she even admits to not even knowing how to run the place! yet, just because kara asked, she did it. kara says “jump” and lena asks “how high”. the girl will do anything for the woman she loves. 


anyway, so those are my thoughts and reasonings as to why I believe lena is in love with kara. you can agree or disagree, leave your opinions if you like, but if you’re anti-supercorp please do not leave your opinion. 


*please note: gifs and pictures are NOT mine and I will not take credit for them, I simply borrowed them from the internet. also I stg if the gifs don’t load I will cry, I don’t know if they actually will, let’s hope.

edit: none of the gifs loaded I hate everything… oh fucking well, you get my point and y’all probably know what each gif is a scene of anyway… fml

Don’t Freak III

Originally posted by kings-of-my-heart

Steve Harrington x Reader

Part I | Part II | PART IV | PART V

Requests are OPEN


Mr. Crowley played lowly over the radio as Y/N drove Steve back to his car. She turned it on to fill the void of silence that enveloped the orange ’79 Jetta.

“I, uh, never took you for an Ozzy kinda girl,” Y/N raised an eyebrow, but didn’t take her eyes off the road.

“And what kinda girl do you take me for?” Steve sighed and rubbed the back of his neck.

Keep reading

Au Revoir

Sirius, whose first language is French. Who starts hogwarts with a thick accent that curls around his words, and an oddly formal manner of speech for an 11 year old. And it’s not stiff, not at all, he speaks in flowing prose, everything he says is so carefully crafted and delicately delivered and Remus Lupin thinks he speaks like an angel. Of course, he’s teased mercilessly for it by the other kids in their year, and manages to drop it in a few weeks. Remus pretends he doesn’t hear the boy whispering to himself late at night, practicing making his vowels more English. More harsh and grating. Less pretty.

Sirius, whose first language was French, who learns to make puns and witticism in English, but writes in French when no one is looking, with carefully dotted i’s and loopy, curving s’s and f’s. Remus knows his parents write to him in English, because Voldemort speaks English and the Blacks speak little French nowadays past the harsh lines of their motto. Off course, that isn’t to say they don’t have their own ways of saying things without being understood. They just don’t need French to do it.

Sirius, whose first language, first love, was French. Back when his mother loved him she’d read him poems at night, about the moon, about the stars. She stopped when her stomach began to swell, when she realised she had another chance, when she realised Sirius had taken her words to heart, that he truly believed he could touch the stars if only because he loved them so. Foolish boy. The stars were hers to have and hers alone.

Sirius, who when Remus tells him he loved him, babbles nonsensically in french. Sirius who, as he gets more comfortable, begins to throw around the occasional word, then phrase. And by their fourth year he’s speaking in a fluid mix, all elegant poetics and flowing statements, every word so carefully planned and gods Remus loves it, loves the way Sirius’ voice seems to catch in his throat and bubble under his tongue and reach into Remus’ head. Sirius, who when he cries can’t muster up a word of English. Sirius who, when James dies, can’t muster up a word at all. And when Remus greets him years later with a soft “Bonjour”, months after that terrible night in the shack, Sirius just stares tiredly, and whispers back “Hello”.

(He never speaks a word of French again, not until one night when he sees James, no, Harry. And Remus can’t hear a damn thing, but he sees the words on his lips. A farewell too soft to hear. Harry doesn’t notice, doesn’t understand, never knew. But Remus knew. Remus knows, that slight smile, the whispered “Au Revoir”, the faded eyes. He knows he knows he knows. He wishes he didn’t.)