anyway i tried to get a bunch of stuff that you liked i hope i did okay

My Life as a Cartoon Network Intern (and how I think you can Intern in Animation too!)

Over this past summer, I was given the amazing opportunity to be a Production Intern at Cartoon Network (I worked on Clarence; woo!)

Every once in a while I get people who either come up to me in person, or who message me on Facebook, Tumblr, Instagram etc. and ask me how I got the opportunity, and how they can intern in animation as well. Recently (Over the course of the last week or so) I’ve been asked a bunch, so I decided to create this massive master post in an attempt to get the information out to as many artists (and non-artists) as possible! 

I know a lot of people who feel like getting into the animation industry is completely impossible, (I should know, I felt the exact same way not too long ago) and I also know just how LITTLE references there actually are on finding an internship, and beyond that, the type of experiences that people who gotten the chance to intern have had. I told myself that if I got the internship, I would try to change that, and here we are! (A little late, but I really want to make this as helpful as possible)

If you all could please Reblog this to your followers I would love it! You never know who’s looking and hopefully, I can help people with my experiences! 

So to make it easier for people who don’t have the time to read all of my ramblings, AND for the sake of ease/reference; I’m going to break this post up into different sections: My Internship search My initial excitement/rejections - How I got the internship - My experience as an Intern and How Interning has helped me as an artist

My Internship search: 

Halfway through last year (My Sophomore year of college) I had decided that I would take a leap of faith and apply for some internships. I didn’t expect much of it, but my hopes were high because I thought I had at least a halfway decent portfolio, and my resume had some pretty okay animation experience on it (I’m the head of the only Animation organization on campus) and I’m majoring in animation so I had some 3D experience and 2D experience (which I’ve worked on on my own time, since it’s what I want to do) 

One of my biggest worries was the fact that I go to a state school: Southern Illinois University. The school is great, and I love it there, but I couldn’t afford art school, so I was very worried about how many opportunities there would be for me in Southern Illinois. Especially with the amount of amazing art that I see coming from people who go to schools like CalArs, Sheridan and the like. I was frustrated because I wasn’t there and felt like I would never get the opportunity to work in animation, which has been my dream since I could hold a pencil. Cartoons have changed my life, and they still do; but I was genuinely afraid that because I couldn’t afford a more art-related education, that I wouldn’t get the opportunity to tell stories like I’ve always dreamed. (But I digress) 

As I was saying: I was doing all of your standard (I want/need a job) searches to try to find something in animation: Glassdoor,,; stuff like that. FUN FACT: I’ve read every single Glassdoor review for both Cartoon Network and Nickelodeon. Every Job. All of them.

Some internships are a lot easier to find: Nickelodeon, Disney, Titmouse

While some are WAAAAAY more elusive: Cartoon Network… 

This narrowed my search down from a bunch of animation studios.. to a handful. My candidates were: Nickelodeon, Dreamworks and Titmouse. (All wonderful animation studios!) Now here’s where it gets interesting:

 My initial excitement/Rejections:

I didn’t hear back from any of them! NOT ONE. Which I learned after a very long, VERY stressful waiting period. (At this time it was early to mid April) Now; I knew that I was really too young to be applying for the internships, (I’m young for my grade so I was 19 at the time) And I knew that all of these internships specified that they wanted a Junior or above, but I figured since the year was almost over and I had good grades that MAYBE, they would let me slide. But I had no real experience working in animation, and although my hopes were high, they were also reeeeeeeal low. 

After waiting for the few weeks that I did, and not hearing a peep, I was dejected, frustrated, and I felt like there was no hope for me… Which leads us to…


When it comes to how I actually GOT the job: The answer I want to give you guys is that it was complete luck, and that by a series of random occurrences, somehow I was offered the position…. BUT, that’s only half true. Honestly, I worked really hard on making sure that I had as good a résumé as I possibly could: 

By that, I mean that I’ve worked really hard in school to get good grades/dean’s list/honors program, etc.; and I also started an animation organization on campus. (There’s a major, but there was a huge lack of enthusiasm and community within the program at SIU so I wanted to help to bring other artists and myself closer, and make great art while we’re at it) 

On top of that, I wrote (what I think was) a really good cover letter. But… Even with all three of those things, I don’t know if I would have gotten the position if it wasn’t for the internship coordinator at my school. I go to Southern Illinois University, and she pointed me in the direction of the Cartoon Network internship. (The Turner website isn’t like Nickelodeon, they only post internships when there’s a position to be filled)

LUCKILY for me, the Producer of Clarence (The wonderful Keith Mack) is an alum from SIU, so he connected with the internship coordinator (bless her heart) and I learned exactly when the position opened up. My resume and things got sent straight to him. I got a Skype interview a couple of weeks later, and I got accepted the day of the interview!

So I mean… Looking back, it was half luck, half hard work. 

It’s not like the grades and stuff really matter outside of college; Grades are just arbitrary letters, after all. But, I say that to say that I’ve tried to work hard in college even though I’m not at an art school, and that if you’re focused, it doesn’t really matter WHAT you’re good at; but how hard you work and the type of person you are. You can never go to college but be an amazing artist and an amazing person, and if you meet that ONE right person, or if you’re at that ONE correct place at the correct time; amazing things can happen; and I FIRMLY believe that. 

While I was at CN I was talking to someone (I don’t know if it’s best to call her out by name?..) But anyway she was telling me about how some of the artists are found at CN and she told me that Tumblr, YES TUMBLR. Is a HUUUUUUUUGE factor in the hiring of some people! So if you can… POST POST POST! Putting your art out there is the absolute best way to get seen. You NEVER know who’s looking at your artwork, and this website is an amazing platform for sharing, and learning about art. (And as a shameless plug: The blog Artists-Everyday is actually meant for just that ;) check it ouuuuut)

But moving forward; let’s talk about: 


The interview to be an intern at CN was both really intimidating, and really comfortable at the same time. I love animation pretty much more than anything, so the idea that a single interview could determine whether or not I got a life-changing opportunity was pretty much one of the most daunting things that I could think of. The fact that I was in southern Illinois RIGHT at the time that I would have had to interview really didn’t help either… It was really scary to me, because it meant that I wasn’t going to be able to interview in person. It was a Skype interview, (a group one at that) and it was my first time ever interviewing for a position online. 

Once I got past all of the initial fear, the interview was smooth sailing. They had already seen my resume and cover letter; so we really just spent a lot of time talking about casual things: my favorite animated movie, what my favorite episode of Clarence was, etc. It wasn’t like your usual interview where they ask “why would we hire you” or “what is your greatest weakness” and I really appreciated that. They weren’t robots, they weren’t the ANIMATION GODS like I was imagining in my head – they were actual people, who happen to love animation, and the interview reflected that. 

I learned that I had gotten the position the day that I interviewed, and I’m SO GLAD I didn’t have to wait any more days, because at that point I was on fire on the inside. II don’t know what the hiring process was like for interns on different shows, so don’t take my word for how long it’ll take if you make it this far) 


There is no one word to describe how amazing it is to work at Cartoon Network. A lot of CN stuff is “hush hush” high security, and they don’t allow you to take pictures of the inside of the buildings - So I’m not going to say much, other than: It’s magic. Pure magic. But I will say one thing: Free food. AT ALL TIMES. EVERY DAY. 

Working there is one of the most creatively satisfying things I’ve ever done in my life. The people, the atmosphere… it was all so inspiring. I’ve learned more in those past three months than I have in the last two years, and It’s all because I was surrounded by so many people who are better than me. People, who I might add, are some of the greatest, nicest, and most helpful people I’ve met in a long time. Plus, Cartoon Network really goes out on a limb to take care of their employees. 

I got to sit in on voice actors doing their recordings, I got to see storyboard pitches, I got to see animatics and assets for episodes that were unaired, and it was all being created right in front of me by such PASSIONATE people. 

I EVEN GOT TO MEET TOM KENNY. He remembered my name… 

As a production intern you get to see the logistic side of things: and you really grow to appreciate Production and that side of the industry, because without the production team, there would be no show! Even though I want to be a storyboard artist, I now know more about the industry and Cartoon Network as a whole, and it makes me feel much more connected to the shows that I watch on television.

One of the other biggest things about the program is the fact that I got to take storyboard/character design tests for practice, and I got the chance to pitch a show to the studio, in front of the Clarence Crew and even some really important executives! which was an AMAZING opportunity that I learned a TON from. I got amazing feedback, and I had to push myself harder than I’ve ever pushed myself before. Mentally, artistically, and personally. 


It’s possible. Being an intern at an animation studio is possible. Getting a job in animation is possible. Making friends in animation, and actually feeling like you belong to something you’ve dreamed about since you were a child is POSSIBLE. It doesn’t matter where you go to school, it doesn’t matter if you’re afraid, and it doesn’t matter what you look like. People are drawn to people who are genuine; and if you love animation, or production, or storyboarding or character design, and you work hard and try to really open yourself up artistically; you CAN do it. Take it from the 20 year old black guy who loves anime, video games and cartoons. You can do it. 

I don’t know how many people will see this or how helpful it actually is; but PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE feel free to share this info with your followers, and on top of that if you guys EVER have any questions about my experiences or need me to clarify anything for ANY reason you’re absolutely welcome to contact me! 

I know how many people would love to intern, and I know (from experience) how DREADFUL It is to find conducive information about how the process works and how YOU can get an internship. 

Hope you guys stuck with this post till the end, and like I said if you ever have any more questions, (hell, or if you even want to share YOUR art with me… I’m always open!) 

TL;DR:                  This Gif Sums it Up 



This starter meme is completely based off of THIS starter meme right here, it’s just in a different format to accommodate players with multiple accounts as opposed to just one!! I take no credit for it and if you want to appreciate the content, give the blog a follow, please!!

  • “You can’t have sex with your neighbor’s backyard above-ground pool.”
  • “Let me help you out of that swimsuit– POOL.”
  • “I sure hope we become best friends! But I don’t hope we have a falling out, leading us to have a tense, emotion-heavy, dramatic, competitive, love/hate relationship later on.”
  • “So, anyways, I regain consciousness, there’s cops everywhere, (name) is covered in blood, got an ice-pick– haha, it was kind of a weird Tuesday.”
  • “We’re gonna be late for anime school!”
  • “I’m just saying, is it illegal if I’m in my OWN pool?”
  • “(name) WAS A BITCH-ASS POSER.”
  • “Oh no, he’s hot when he’s sad!”
  • “This reminds me of prison. This reminds me of prison. This DEFINITELY reminds me of prison.”
  • “Look at that little pimp. He’s gonna grow up to be a prison ass mothafucka.”
  • “Let’s skip all the fluff and get to the part where we’re shirtless.”
  • “Homeboy looks like shark week, I ain’t messin’ with that.”
  • “It wasn’t a dream! We got arrested for trespassing! We went to JAIL!”
  • “Nah, man, we went to holding. There’s a big difference.”
  • “Yeah now we owe Easter Dave a favor– that is NOT a position you wanna be in.”
  • “Wouldn’t we have seen him around by now? I mean he is a bipedal shark-person.”
  • “I’VE GOT MACE!”
  • “Was macing us really necessary AFTER you remembered who we were?!”
  • “You took the fall for me and I said thank you.”
  • “I went to jail!”
  • “I spent 6 months at a correctional facility!”
  • “I stabbed a girl in the yard!”
  • “I think that guard you killed had a family!”
  • “Look at that majestic ass mothafucka. Like a dolphin or some shit. A dolphin with legs… and arms… and a jet pack.”
  • “That’s how they do it in Australia.”
  • “20 bucks on jabber jaws.”
  • “Hey, man did you TiVo Glee last night?”
  • “I’m not allowed to watch Glee, my dad says it might turn me into something bad. A musical theater major.”
  • “Neither one of them even died!”
  • “They won’t let me back into sewing club because apparently when I threaten someone with sewing needles it’s deemed ‘inappropriate’ and I 'have to leave’.”
  • “I have to tumblr this!”
  • “A guy with emotional issues who swims away his problems? Lady, that’s the whole team, you’re gonna have to be more specific.”
  • “I ship them! And them!”
  • “They hate each other, but they also fuck each other!“
  • “Hey, we try not to get this part of the gym wet so whatever you’re doing is gonna have to stop.”
  • “So do you wanna come back to my place, listen to some Dave Matthews, and talk about my work out routine?”
  • “I wonder if that stuff I hid is still here? … Nah, cops probably took it.”
  • “Do you know? Do you know for sure? Because I don’t need another incident.”
  • “If I get out of this chair, I guarantee you’ll end up in one with wheels.”
  • “Okay. I’ll admit, I’m a little threatened.”
  • “‘Sup bitches!~”
  • “Aren’t you that guy who drowned a kid? And burned down that building?”
  • “Get back to it before you learn a lesson in post-war, urban torture practices.”
  • “Remember, snitches get stitches!”
  • “Shut up, you’re high as balls!”
  • “You’re just mad because mom and dad thought you were a girl for the first year of your life.”
  • “Right, son. And speaking of crushing disappointments—”
  • “Coach tried to get me to vandalize a police station again.”
  • “Good thing I wore my Heelies.”
  • “He’s so hot but so crazy! Which makes him even MORE hot!”
  • “Come on, let me get those digits baby!”
  • “It should be illegal to be that fine!”
  • “Oh, just basic addition and subtraction. He was subtracting from my profits so I’m going to add a few extra holes in him.”
  • “This doesn’t seem like the time for polka-renditions of Ke$ha songs.”
  • “I hate it when you leave but I love watching you go.”
  • “Yeah, I’ve seen him. He’s in my scrapbook class. He cuts the eyes out of magazine photos.”
  • “Your arrest record is extensive… and amateur.”
  • “I want that boy to be my bride!”
  • “Pilates will do that, man, works your core.”
  • “What are we waiting for? Let’s go bro! Let’s g’bro!”
  • “Wow, you sure said that.“
  • “WOOP! WOOP! Hold it, I’m gonna have to pull you over for exceeding recommended hotness.”
  • “One time, we went camping in the woods, I just left 'em there. Nobody found them for like 5 days. I don’t even think their families cared, kinda sad, really.”
  • “So, what you’re saying is, if they disappeared, no one would notice?”
  • “Well I’ve gotta go not talk to you anymore.”
  • “I learned how to swim the old fashioned way. When I was five my dad took me out to a lake and tossed me right in the water.”
  • “I’m so happy right now! — And it’s not just ‘cause I get to see you in a bunch of different swimsuits. Okay, I lied, I’m sorry, that’s mostly the reason.”
  • “Hey, I know you! You helped me smuggle some stuff out of the country! How’ve you been, kid?”
The Joy of Socks

yeah, idk either, really. Happy birthday, Harry! [AO3]

Presents for Potter: Saviour Seeks Socks

What do you get the man who single-handedly saved us all from You-Know-Who? A luxury holiday? A bottle of Ogdeon’s Finest? Soap-on-a-rope? Harry Potter’s birthday is coming up, and the Prophet managed to secure an exclusive interview with the man himself. We asked what he really, really wants to receive on the big day.

“A wise man once said to me, you can never have enough socks,” said Potter. “Once you reach a certain level of fame, no one gives you socks any more. At the time, I was too young to truly appreciate the remark, but now I get it. Socks are a great gift—and I never get any!”

So there you have it. Harry Potter needs socks! You can send him some, c/o the Prophet, and we will make sure he gets them. But who was the learned individual who gave Potter such advice? Some have suggested that [cont. page 3]

“How many is this now?” Ginny asked, unwrapping yet another package.

“Today? Including those that were sent to work? Or in total? Because I think we must be close to five hundred pairs, by this point,” Harry replied, holding up another pair. “Ooh, look, these ones have snitches on them, that’s cool.”

“This’ll learn you not to speak to the press ever again,” she said, shaking her head. “‘Dear Mr. Potter, I hope you like these socks, I knitted them myself, also thank you for saving us from Voldemort, love Doris Englow, 94’.”

“It never says that,” said Harry. She held up the note. “Oh, how sweet. Honestly though, the Prophet needs to stop claiming I did everything ‘single-handedly’, they’ve never given enough credit to—dear God, those are the most hideous socks I have ever seen.”

“Don’t be rude to Doris! She put a lot of time into them, and personally I think mustard, lime green and beetroot are lovely colour combinations,” Ginny said. “When did you even get interviewed, anyway?”

“Last Tuesday I was coming out of the canteen at work, and some reporter was lurking. They asked me what I wanted for my birthday, and for a moment I felt like channelling my inner Dumbledore. Don’t worry, I’ve learnt my lesson. Never again,” he said firmly.

“I wonder if he knew all he had to do was complain to the national press about not having any socks, and he’d be sorted for life,” mused Ginny. “Look, the Chuddley Cannons have sent you an entire box full of their entire range.”

“Ron’ll be delighted,” Harry said. “I’ll give them to him later, when we all meet up.”

“Great,” Ginny said. “And what about all the rest?”

“There’s got to be some charity somewhere who’ll accept a donation,” he said.

All of these?” Ginny said doubtfully. “What would anyone do with a thousand socks?”

Keep reading

Truth or Dare? | Zach Dempsey x Reader

Genre: Romance, Fluff
POV: Reader’s/First Person

A/N: Hi everyone! I was finally able to write another imagine! This wasn’t requested though, the idea just suddenly popped into my head and I just ran through with it haha. I’m gonna get the requests started so that I can post them soon and re-open my ask box for more requests. I hope you enjoy this one. It’s a bit short and straight to the point lol.

Overview: Reader likes Zach. Zach likes reader. Their friends think they should date and they all end up playing spin the bottle. What could possibly go wrong? Or perhaps, what could possibly go right?


“Hey Y/N, you should totally come to Jessica’s party later.” Justin says as he nudges my arm.

“Hmm, yeah sure I guess. I mean I don’t have anything to do tomorrow anyway so sure, I’ll come.” I reply with a small smile.

“Really!? That’s great!” he replies his fists throwing up in the air in joy.

“Calm down Justin. Uhm, who else is coming?” I ask and let out a laugh.

“Just the usual, Hannah, Clay, Sheri, Alex, Monty, Tony, Jeff, Zach.” he answers.

Zach?! Zach is coming?” I reply as my eyes widen in shock.

Zach, Zachary Dempsey. How do I begin to describe Zach? 6foot3 in height, dark brown hair, milk chocolate colored eyes, plump lips, nose accurately shaped by the Gods, and his smile, oh his perfect smile. He was the captain of the basketball team in our school. 

Every single girl in our school swooned over his presence, you can almost hear their hearts race whenever he walks through the hallway. Almost all of the girls had a crush on him, and all of them had no chance with him, and that included me. Although he was this popular, social butterfly in our school, he still kept the right amount of distance to others, which made him seem mysterious and cold.

We’ve always been close, and he was one of the people I often share my secrets too. In our group of friends, Zach and I always get teased. They’d always tell us that we should go out, we should date each other and stuff like that, but for some reason it never actually happens. I’ve heard some of my friends say that he liked me, and I mean like, like, not as a friend but as something more, but I just ignore them. I mean, yeah, I like him too, but I’m just not the kind of person to make the first move. I kind of like what we have now, we’re really close, special friends and I like how comfortable I am whenever I’m with him.

Everytime he’d flash his smile at me, everytime I’d tease him because he’s abnormally tall for his age, everytime he’d give me a back hug, everytime he’d feed me food when I’m busy, everytime he’d whine when I beat him in a video game, all of the little things made me fall more and more in love with him everyday. It’s just a shame that I can’t confess to him and that he hasn’t tried telling me what he feels too, if ever he did feel anything for me.

“Y/N.” Justin calls my name.

“Y/N!” he snaps his fingers in front of my face as I awaken to reality and realize I’ve been staring blankly, thinking about Zach.

“Oh! I’m sorry.” I jump as I give him a faint smile.

“The bell just rang.” he says as he stands up from his seat and laughs at me.

“Oh it did? Ugh, sorry I was kind of lost for a moment there.” I reply as I stand up to get my backpack.

“I’ll see you at Jess’ later, okay?” he says as we walk side by side to leave the classroom.

“Oh yeah okay. See you later!” I reply as I wave my hand goodbye and walk to the other direction to my next class.

Keep reading

A "Wow" Moment

Before I tell this, just keep in mind that I CANNOT MAKE THIS SHIT UP. And I have the glass shards to prove it.

So, if you are new to my blog, you may not have heard of Ayrus. Ayrus is my sassy and lovable guardian angel who saves me from a whole bunch of shit, astrally and physically, 24/7. Another thing you need to know about me is that I collect hand painted wine glasses. Okay. Let’s continue.

One of the wine glasses I had was actually a goblet. It was pretty, but not one of my favorites. Well, I had drank some stuff out of it recently, so it was on my bathroom counter… on the edge. I never said I was smart. Anyways, I was leaving the bathroom when something fell. I tried to pick it up, knocked the glass off, CAUGHT THE GLASS, AND THEN DROPPED IT AGAIN.

Let’s go backwards for a moment.

The reason I bumped into something was because I was thinking about how on June 30th, I’m going back to the doctor to get my depression and anxiety medication back, which I haven’t had since October because I just didn’t get another prescription for it. I was thinking about how my third eye would be warped again and I would probably go back to believing all of the spirit work I do is in my head. That’s what I was thinking about when my clumsy ass hit this glass. And this glass was coming RIGHT TOWARDS MY FEET. I moved out of the way, but I knew glass was going to hit my feet. I was prepared.

All of a sudden, I heard a gasp and (I AM NOT KIDDING) a light flashed around my feet and I blinked in shock when the glass shattered. I opened my eyes to see glass EVERYWHERE… except my feet. The glass made an almost perfect semi-circle around my feet. I knew Ayrus had protected me once again. So, I go to clean up the glass. I finish, but something stopped me. Run your hand through your bathroom carpet, I heard Ay say. (I have a fuzzy bathroom rug.) So I figured out where they wanted me to do that and I did it. When I brushed my hand over the place Ay told me to brush it over, a HUGE shard of glass popped out and landed harmlessly right next to my hand. I was in shock. After that, I cleaned up the rest of the glass and left the bathroom completely uninjured. In this little adventure, I knew Ay was trying to tell me something:

Trust in your companions. Even if you can’t feel them; even if you think it’s all in your head; even if you feel like there is a barrier between you and them, don’t give up on them. Don’t loose hope in them. I’ll say it again: Trust them. Your bond with them should be something you always cherish and have faith in. Don’t loose that.

EDIT: YES. There are some times when a spirit may be fake (from a unreliable spirit companion shop). Or a spirit may be harmful. Unfortunately, those are things that we may encounter. I am talking about the spirits who have proven over and over again that they are there for you and that they are trustworthy. (Sorry. It is 2:15 am and I forgot to add an important detail)

Library Assistant!Wonwoo

i’m back with one of the most precious boys in t world, jeon wonwoo <3

Originally posted by dinochans

• anon wanted a troublemaker reader so here we gooo
you and mingyu are best friends and since you’re kind of outgoing and daring you tend to drag him everywhere
• to the library for instance

Keep reading

All In

Requested by @andreuskystuffCould you do an angsty Peter Parker imagine where the reader has social anxiety and low self esteem? I leave the plot to you.

Synopsis: The reader has social anxiety and low self esteem and is nervous about giving a speech at school. Later, Peter Parker drags the reader to a party.

Word Count: 5,405

Warnings: Mega angst, as requested. (Also, underaged drinking 😱)

Tags: @thisisthelilith @avengers-earths-mightiest-heroes @idroppedthefries

A/N: I’m so sorry this literally took me over half a year to write! Hopefully the length makes up for how much time I took to write it, haha. Social anxiety and low self esteem are both topics that hit pretty close to home, so I was really grateful for the opportunity to write this. This was also my first ever request, so I’m very excited about it! Thank you so much for your patience! I hope this is what you had in mind :) 

Beep! Beep! Beep!

You awoke immediately from your deep sleep and rolled over on your side. It was 6:00 on another school morning, and you were definitely not ready to peel yourself away from your bed. You stared menacingly at the alarm clock, hoping you could scare it into silence. When it persisted, you rolled your eyes and slammed the snooze button down, then threw your sheets off. It was time once again to start another crappy school day.

You stretched your arms out and let out a huge yawn, then suddenly remembered that you were in the middle of a pleasant dream before your alarm rudely interrupted. You couldn’t quite put your finger on what the dream was about, but you knew it was a good one, and you were mad that it had to end. You started the painful walk to your bathroom and flinched when you switched on the unforgiving florescent lights. Waking up was the worst. But hey, at least it was Friday.

You opened your medicine cabinet to retrieve your toothpaste. When you shut it and saw your reflection, you froze. You studied every bump and red spot on your face, wishing that you could just peel it away. You looked away from the mirror in disgust and went back to brushing your teeth. You had only been awake for five minutes and you were already dreading having to show your face today.

When you finished in the bathroom, you went back to your bedroom and checked your phone. You saw a message from Peter and couldn’t help allowing a tiny smile to make a brief appearance on your face.

Good morning! Get ready to crush that speech today. Meet at your building at 7? Love you!”

The smile disappeared and you felt your stomach flip. Somehow, you had forgotten that today was the day you had to give your twenty-minute speech on literary devices in Lord of the Flies. You had spent weeks dreading it, and now it was here. You felt sick.

Peter knew that you were nervous, but he didn’t really understand. You didn’t want to explain to him in painful detail how bad your social anxiety really was. He had enough to worry about as it was. You didn’t want to be another bullet point on his long list of responsibilities. Besides, how could you compete with the entire city of New York that constantly needed saving?

Thanks, Pete. 7 is good. Love you right back,” You typed with shaky fingers.

You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, remembering tips your therapist gave you to help calm yourself down. This was starting to work, but then your mind started to wander and you saw the faces of your classmates staring back at you, judging you. You opened your eyes quickly and began busying yourself, trying to focus on getting ready for your day instead of dreading your speech.

You were packing your backpack in your kitchen when you heard a buzz. Thank god. Peter was finally there. You took another deep breath and pushed the button to let him up. You stared at the door until you heard a knock, then opened it way too quickly. Peter was surprised by how fast the door swung open, but he still beamed down at you. He had a box in his hands and held it out to you.

“Good morning! I brought donuts. Thought it might cheer you up,” He said, smiling shyly. You loved his shy smile. “You look great.”

You were so grateful that he woke up early just to buy donuts in the hopes that they would cheer you up, but you knew you were too nervous to eat them. You took the box from him anyways and wrapped your arms around him.

“Thank you, Peter,” You whispered.

“It’s no big deal. And if you’re not feeling up to eating right now, it’s ok. We can save them for lunch.”

“Thank god,” You said, exhaling loudly. “There’s no way I could eat without gagging right now.”

Peter flashed a sympathetic smile and grabbed your hand.

“You’re going to be great, Y/N. I know it. Come on, let’s get out of here so you can get this stupid speech over with.”

Although your hand was sweating profusely, he held it the entire way to school without letting go once.

When you walked through the doors of your high school, your chest tightened up immediately. You were still holding on to Peter when you made it to your locker to grab your notecards and put away the donuts, and you still managed to hold on as you sat down in your first class, ready to give your speech. You felt like if you let go of him, you might fall apart completely.

All your life you had gone through severe panic attacks and difficult social interactions alone, but now you didn’t have to. Even if Peter didn’t know about how hard you had it sometimes, he helped you through it all just by holding your hand. Maybe it was better he didn’t know, anyways. Sometimes people treated you differently when they found out. Your own father used to yell at you when you had panic attacks in public. You had gotten so used to hiding your anxiety that it was second nature to you. You could easily write it off as awkwardness or shyness every time. Besides, the fact that you had to keep it from him all the time gave you more motivation to try to keep your shit together. This was probably the only reason you were able to stand up and give your speech without any more drama than shaky hands and short breaths. When you sat down, you were dizzy and sweaty. But it was over.

“See, I told you you could do it,” Peter whispered. “You did great! And doesn’t it feel good to have it done?”

You nodded, but you didn’t believe your own lie. Sure, it was done. But there would always be more speeches, or job interviews, or even more pressure. There was always another obstacle you had to overcome. They never seemed to end, and they certainly never seemed to get any easier. You knew this was untrue. Ten years ago when the panic attacks started, you couldn’t even show up to class, let alone talk in front of a group of people for twenty minutes. But everything was still so damn hard. Sometimes even breathing was hard.

When the bell rang after third period for lunch, you stalled packing up your stuff so Peter would make it to your classroom before you had to walk through the halls. It always helped having somebody to walk with. When you were alone, you felt everyone’s judgment and stares drilling holes in your back. You could feel your muscles tighten up and your brain starting to overthink every tiny step so you wouldn’t trip and embarrass yourself. Usually this overthinking caused you trip anyways. It was all so ridiculous. You knew no one actually cared, but you just couldn’t help it.

You just finished zipping your backpack when you saw Peter’s head peeking through the doorway. When he saw you, he grinned and waved goofily. Seeing his face gave you a bolt of energy. It was like you had been sleepwalking the whole day and he had just woken you up with one little smile.

You walked over to him and grabbed his hand without even thinking.

“How was class? Learn anything valuable today?” He asked.

“Well, I learned that I should probably get more sleep. I fell asleep again.”

“You do look pretty tired,” Peter said with a tone of concern in his voice. “Are you feeling okay?”

Panic attacks always made you tired. Even feeling one pang of anxiety drained you completely. So naturally, you were almost always exhausted. But you didn’t want to explain this to him.

“Yeah, I just stayed up late last night working on my speech. I’ll be fine.”

This was enough to drain the look of worry from Peter’s face, and you were relieved. The last thing you wanted was for him to worry about you.

“Do you feel well enough to eat some donuts now? Because I’m starving.”

You were always anxious at school, but at least now that your speech was over, you were at a comfortable enough anxiety level that you could eat without gagging. And now that you thought about it, you were pretty hungry. You hadn’t eaten all day.

“That sounds heavenly. I’ll go grab them.”

After you both retrieved the donuts and started to make your way for the cafeteria, you tried to scarf yours down before you had to sit down at your usual table in the corner. Eating in a huge room in front of a bunch of strangers was always a challenge. You looked over at Peter, who didn’t seem to care what anybody thought at all. He had powdered sugar all over his mouth and nose and jelly on his chin. You laughed and grabbed a napkin from the table as you sat down.

“You might want this.”

Peter blushed a little and took it.

“For the record, I knew I had food on my face. I was just saving it for later.”

“Sure,” You scoffed.

“Well, hey, at least I didn’t scarf mine down in thirty seconds. I’m a food connoisseur. I try to savor it. Now your donut is gone and I still have mine. So, ha,” He said as he took another huge bite and got more powder on his face.

“Yeah, well, I think I’ll survive. There’s like six left.”

Peter popped his last piece of donut into his mouth and pushed the box towards you.

“Speaking of which, you want another one?”

You stared longingly at the donuts for a moment. You were still hungry, but you just couldn’t bring yourself to eat anymore.

“No, I’m okay. I was so hungry that I ate my lunch last period, so I’m pretty full,” You lied. “You go ahead and keep eating.”

“Are you sure? I bought these for you. I want you to eat them.” He said tentatively.

You nodded. “Just save me a few. It’s okay.”

You watched him as he continued to eat without so much as a care. He didn’t even seem to notice that there was anyone else in the room but you. You wished you could be more like him. You didn’t want to care, but you did.

“So, hey, I have a proposition for you,” He said between bites.

“Oh? And what is that?” You asked with a raised eyebrow.

“I know that you’re tired after your speech and everything, but it’s Friday and I think we should celebrate.”

“Go on.”

“Flash is having a party tonight. And I want you to go with me.”

“Flash? Flash Thompson?”

Peter nodded and swallowed the last bite of his donut.

“Are you high? What makes you think you can show up to his house? No, better yet, where is this desire to go to his house coming from?”

“Come on. Flash knows not to mess with me anymore…”

Your mind flashed back to a few months ago when Peter accidentally used his Spidey powers to throw Flash against a wall of lockers. You raised an eyebrow skeptically. 

“It’ll be fun, Y/N, please. I’ve never been to an actual high school party before.”

You studied Peter’s face. You could tell he really wanted to go, and that he really needed you to be there with him. You sighed.

“Okay, okay. Fine. I’ll go with you. Somebody needs to make sure Flash and his friends don’t kick your ass.”

Peter grinned the widest grin you had ever seen, revealing a little bit of jelly stuck between his teeth. Who could say no to that face? Just then, Peter’s best friend Ned Leeds ran up to your table.

“Oooh, donuts!” He exclaimed and grabbed a powdered donut without asking if he could have one. He saw you raise an eyebrow at him and stopped chewing for a brief moment. You shook your head with a chuckle. 

“Why are teenage boys such animals?” You asked with a smirk. 

“What?” He asked with a full mouth, a little bit of powder escaping his lips and dusting the table. “Did I interrupt something?”

“I just asked Y/N to go to Flash’s party with me tonight.”

Ned’s eyes widened and his mouth hung open a little bit.

“Are you crazy?!”

“Ned, please, swallow before you choke,” Peter said.

Ned swallowed loudly and gestured wildly with his hands.

“I said, are you crazy?! After what happened between you two, he’s going to want to kill you if you show up at his house.”

“Thank you, Ned. My sentiments exactly,” You said.

“Well…I was going to invite you, too. But if you don’t think it’s a good idea…” Peter teased.

Ned thought about this for a moment, then shrugged.

“Well, in that case…” He trailed off, grabbing another donut from the box in the center of the table.

You rolled your eyes and crossed your arms. It looked like you were going to a party, after all. 

The rest of the day, Peter was in a fantastic mood. He couldn’t contain his excitement for the party. You tried your best to feign excitement, but inside you were cringing. You had never been to a party, but you knew it probably wouldn’t be very enjoyable for you. If you couldn’t even sit quietly in a room full of people, then how could you socialize with a room full of people?

After he walked you home, Peter told you he would pick you up at eight, kissed you on the cheek, then went on his merry way. You watched him walk away with a look of fear you had been hiding ever since you agreed to go. Then you went inside and paced around your room for hours, overthinking everything that might happen. What if he left you alone? What if somehow everyone found out that Peter was Spider-Man? What if the world suddenly ended while you were at the last place on earth that you wanted to be? You closed your eyes and took a deep breath.

You were doing this for Peter. He wanted you there with him. A year ago, you never would have thought someone would want you the way Peter did. In fact, you were pretty sure you would never love anyone that way, either. But you and Peter were the real deal, and you wanted to show him how much you really cared about him. He always did so much for you, so you could do this one thing for him, right? You realized that you might not survive the night, but you had to at least try. Besides, how many bad things could happen in one night? You were still unconvinced, but you went to your closet and started to rifle through it for a decent outfit anyways. If you had to go to this thing, you wanted to at least look your best.

You put on your favorite sweater and jeans. Although nothing about the outfit was too crazy, you felt uncomfortable staring at your reflection in the mirror. Was it too casual? Was the sweater ugly? You finally silenced your brain and decided that if this is what made you comfortable, it was the right choice. You smiled at yourself in the mirror, then watched it fade as you noticed all of the pockmarks on your face. Your self confidence dropped to an all-time low. You couldn’t look at yourself in the mirror any longer. You flopped face-down onto your bed, trying and failing to hold back your tears, when you heard your phone buzz. You rolled over on your back and squinted at the screen. It was Peter.

I’m on my way!” The message read.

You jumped up from your bed. Was it really eight already? You were so invested in making yourself look decent that you didn’t even realize how much time had passed. The worst part was that you didn’t really accomplish anything. You rushed forward to your mirror and messed with your hair and clothes, doing the best you could with what time you had left. Then you heard the dreaded knock on your door. It was time to go.

You walked as slowly as possible through your living room. When you reached the door, you paused with your hand on the doorknob so that you could take a much-needed deep breath. Then you threw open the door before you could lose your nerve. Peter greeted you with a huge smile, as always. You still couldn’t believe how excited he was for this dumb party.

“Wow,” he said, rushing forward to plant a kiss on your cheek. “You look great.”

You looked down and pulled at your sweater uncomfortably. You looked the same as you always did. Was he insane? You wanted to ask him, but decided it was best not to start anything. He was so excited. You didn’t want to ruin his fun.

“Thanks,” You muttered. “Ready to go?”

You tried to seem excited the whole way to Flash’s, playing the part of a normal teenager. But inside your brain was battling itself. You mostly just let Peter do the talking (which wasn’t out of the ordinary), so you hoped that he wouldn’t notice you were feeling anxious. The journey to the party was a complete blur. You were too trapped inside of your head to interpret anything going on in your surroundings. You snapped back to reality when you were in Flash’s doorway. You were fighting the urge to run when you felt Peter’s hand on your back. You looked up at him and he smiled down at you nervously. You hadn’t even considered that Peter was probably a nervous wreck, too. He always had trouble socializing at school, and you knew how much he wished Flash and his friends would like him. You smiled back at him for the first time that night, and you could feel him loosen up immediately. Sometimes you felt so isolated in your anxiety that you often forgot you weren’t the only person on the planet with problems. You felt so selfish. Peter needed you. You couldn’t fail him now.

“Don’t worry, this will be fun,” You whispered in his ear, and gave his arm a little squeeze.

He nodded and kissed you on the forehead.

“So… How does this work? Do we knock or just go inside?”

“My only knowledge about house parties is from 80s movies, so you’re definitely asking the wrong person,” You giggled nervously.

“I say… We knock?” Peter said unconvincingly. You both shrugged at each other and he reached out to pound his fist against the door.

“Door’s open!” You heard from the inside of the house.

Peter walked in first. You immediately noticed the immense number of your classmates inside, huddled in various groups, holding drinks and trying to talk over the loud music. You grabbed Peter’s hand quickly. Then you heard a voice calling to the both of you.

“Peter! Y/N! You guys finally made it.”

It was Ned. Peter loosened his grip on your hand, relaxing further after seeing another familiar face.

“Ned, thank god,” You said and wrapped your arms around him without thinking.

“Oh, good to see you, too, Y/N,” He said and patted your back awkwardly. “Are you okay?”

You peeled yourself off of him quickly and cleared your throat.

“Yeah, sorry… Just good to see a familiar face. That’s all.”

You looked up at Peter and smiled, trying to convince him that you were fine. But he could tell something was wrong.

“Yeah, Ned. It’s good to see you here,” He said and embraced Ned tightly, just as you had. He was clearly just trying to make you feel better.

“Okay,” Ned said as Peter pulled away from him and patted him on the shoulder. “You guys are being weird. If I pretend I don’t know you tonight, please don’t get offended,” He joked. You and Peter laughed and he wrapped his arm around you, pulling you closer to him. Being this close to him always made you feel safe.

Ned rolled his eyes and crossed his arms, obviously annoyed by your PDA.

“Okay, okay. We get it, you guys are in love. Gross.”

“Oh, come on, Ned. Haven’t you met any potential significant others here yet?” Peter teased.

“I’ve been here for five minutes. Considering the way things have been going, I think it will take a little bit longer than that to find the love of my life. Besides, you’re my wingman. I can’t talk to anybody without you.”

“Oh, please,” you rolled your eyes jokingly. “You have way more game than Peter.”

Peter pulled away from you and covered his heart like you had just shot a bullet through it. His mouth was agape in feigned shock.

“Y/N, I’m hurt. I can’t believe you don’t think I have any game.”

“I hate to play this card again, but can I please just be the one to point out that you both have each other while I am the most single person at Midtown? I’m pretty sure Peter has more game than me,” Ned said.

Peter shrugged.

“He has a point.”

“Ned,” You said, putting both of your hands on his shoulders. “You are smart as hell, you have a wicked sense of humor, and you’re adorable. You’re going to find someone in no time. You just need to put yourself out there.”

“That’s the thing…” Ned said, looking at his shoes. “I have found someone. I just don’t know what to say to her.”

You and Peter both leaned in closer.

“Who?” You both said at the same time, a little too excitedly.

Ned didn’t say anything. He just nodded in the direction of Betty Brant, who was in the corner of the room, standing next to Liz Allan and sipping her drink.

Both you and Peter leaned back again, your mouths forming a giant ‘O’ shape.

“You should go talk to her!” You encouraged Ned, though you knew if the tables were turned you would never be able to do that. Luckily, Peter was the one who made the first move on you.

Ned just looked panicked, and shook his head furiously.

“I can’t. Not by myself. Peter, you have homeroom with her, right? Maybe you could start a conversation with her and I could jump in. Please, dude. I need you.”

Peter looked at you with a worried expression, knowing that you didn’t want him to leave you alone.

“It’s fine! You guys go. I’ll be fine.”

Peter smiled and kissed you on the cheek. Ned rolled his eyes at this, but you pretended not to notice.

“I’ll just go embarrass myself and be right back here in two minutes, tops. I promise,” Peter said earnestly. 

“Seriously, I’m fine! Go!” You said with a huge fake smile on your face, pushing the two of them towards Betty. Your face dropped as soon as their backs were turned. Over the years you had become an expert faker of emotions.

You looked at your surroundings, watching your fellow students laugh and drink and dance together. You couldn’t help feeling alienated. A long time ago you had come to the conclusion that while you loved being alone when there was no one else around, you hated being alone when you were surrounded by a sea of strangers. Sure, you had grown up with most of these people, but you had never really taken the time to get to know any of them. Your social anxiety had made sure of that. You were too busy avoiding embarrassment to care about anyone else, and it was clear to you now that no one here cared that you were there.

You walked away suddenly, just because you felt the need to move. Standing still was driving you crazy, and in your mind Peter and Ned were taking way too long. You made your way to a table covered in bottles of various types of alcohol, and picked the first one you saw. You weren’t a drinker, but at that moment you didn’t know what else to do. So you drank. And soon the bottle was empty.

You set it down and turned around to see if Peter and Ned were back, but you spun around so quickly that you knocked into someone.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry…” You began to say, but trailed off when you noticed you had bumped into Liz Allen, who was now brushing her spilled drink off of the front of her top.

“It’s ok, I was beginning to hate this shirt anyways,” Liz said with a smile, but you were so embarrassed that you didn’t even smile back. You just blushed and stared at her.

“Hey, you’re Peter’s girlfriend, right? He’s a really sweet guy. I was just talking to him, actually.”

“Yeah, did you see where he went by the way?”

“Last I saw he was talking to Flash. Seems like they’re finally starting to become friends, thank god. But I’m not sure where he went after that. Are you okay?”

You were looking behind her, trying to find his familiar face, but all you saw were strangers. You could feel your panic level beginning to rise in the pit of your stomach.

“Yeah, I’m just… I just… I’ll be back,” You stammered and walked away.

You didn’t walk too far before you got caught in a huge group of people. You turned around to see if Liz was still behind you, and you saw her whispering something to Betty. You felt a brief moment of optimism when you saw Betty, hoping that Peter and Ned would be near her, but you didn’t see them anywhere. Then you could have sworn you saw both Liz and Betty look over at you. Was Liz talking about you, making fun of how awkward you were? Liz was nice. She would never do that to you. But what if she did?

You quickly looked away and began to walk away again, the panic swirling within you even more intensely. People were dancing and laughing around you and the room began to swirl. Everyone that laughed was laughing at you. Liz’s whispers were all about you. And Peter was nowhere to be seen. You didn’t know where you were going, but you took off upstairs, searching for any place to hide. You tried various doors before you finally found an unoccupied bathroom.

You shut the door and locked it behind you, curling up on the floor. You tried to get yourself to take deep breaths, but you could feel your throat closing up and your brain was racing uncontrollably. It’s like you were thinking of everything and nothing all at once. You could see your face in the bathroom mirror that morning red and splotchy. You relived your speech this morning and every word you tripped over. You imagined everyone at the party staring at you, and Liz and Betty laughing and pointing at you. You wondered why you couldn’t be as good-looking as Liz, and worse yet, you imagined Peter choosing her and Flash and the popular crowd over you – mocking you and telling you that he never loved you.

You closed your eyes tightly to stop the tears but it was too late. Then, just as you buried your face in your crossed arms, you heard a knocking on the door.

“Y/N, are you in there? It’s Peter.”

You whipped your head up. You didn’t want Peter to see you like this, but you also didn’t want him to worry about you. You pressed your ear up against the door and spoke through it.

“Yes, Peter. I’m here. I’m okay.”

Although you couldn’t see his face, you could tell Peter wasn’t having it.

“Liz saw you run up here. She seemed really concerned. You’re not okay, are you?”

You searched your brain for the right thing to say.

“I will be,” You said so quietly it was almost a whisper. You weren’t sure if you even actually believed it.

“Y/N, just open the door, okay? I need to see you.”

You sighed heavily and reached up to unlock the door. As soon as you did, Peter was already inside the room, closing the door softly behind him and joining you on the tiled bathroom floor.

He looked at your tear-stained face for a moment, assessing how you were feeling, then wrapped his arms around you so tightly that it took your breath away.

“I’m sorry, I knew I shouldn’t have left you…” He whispered. You peeled yourself away from him and peered at him with furrowed eyebrows.

“This isn’t your fault, Peter. I shouldn’t have to have someone babysit me at a party because I can’t handle being alone. It’s not your fault that I’m so screwed up.”

“You are not screwed up, Y/N.”

“Yes, I am!” You yelled and stood up, facing away from him. “I can’t do anything by myself. I can’t go to parties, I can’t order my own food, sometimes I can’t even get myself to leave my house without having anxiety about it. And having to give that speech today made me feel like the world was ending. It’s a miracle that I was able to talk to you at all let alone feel comfortable enough around you to date you. I can’t talk to anyone or be a normal person because it just feels like everyone is judging me and my stupid face and sizing me up all the time or waiting for me to mess up. And I always mess up. I always mess everything up, Peter…”

Peter stood up and put both of his hands on your cheeks, swiping your tears away with his thumbs.

“Don’t say that. Don’t ever say that. You’re not doing anything wrong. You’re beautiful and perfect the way you are.”

“Why is everything so hard?” You sniffled.

Peter wrapped you up in another hug.

“I didn’t know you felt this way. I’m so sorry.”

“I didn’t want you to know. I didn’t want to scare you away. Besides, you already carry the weight of the entire city on your shoulders. I didn’t want you to have to carry me, too.”

“I want to take care of you, Y/N. We’re supposed to take care of each other. That’s what being in a relationship is all about. I’m all in, okay? I’m never going anywhere.”

You closed your eyes as he pressed a kiss to your forehead. He sighed loudly, trying to find the right thing to say.

“Look, I don’t know if this will help, but do you remember how shy and nervous I was before I became Spider-Man?”

You nodded, and he started to pull something out of his back pocket. He unfolded it, and you immediately recognized the piece of cloth in his hand. It was his Spider-Man mask.

“After I got these powers…after I became Spider-Man, and I got to hide behind this mask, I started gaining all this confidence. I don’t know, when people can’t see who you really are, somehow it gives you more strength to be who you really are. Does that make any sense?”

You nodded again.

“Good. So anyways, maybe the next time you have to do something that scares you, just imagine you’re wearing this.”

He paused and slipped the mask over your face.

“There. Nobody can see through you when you’re wearing a mask.”

You sniffled underneath it.

“How do I look?”

Peter couldn’t hold back his grin.

“Badass. I think I might actually like it on you better.”

You took the mask off and threw your arms around Peter’s neck.

“I love you,” You whispered, and you could feel him sigh with relief.

“I love you, too.”

You pulled away, wiping your eyes and showing off your first genuine smile of the night.

“So…does Ned have a new girlfriend now or what?”

Peter laughed and shook his head.

“Uh…let’s just say we’re working on it. Come on, let’s get out of here. I’ve got a comfy couch and a kickass DVD collection with your name on it.”

Popular | Chapter 2

Pairing: Bucky Barnes X Avenger!Reader

Prompt: Tony has made a bet to see who could end up with the most fans, out of the Avengers, by the end of the month. Bucky takes it just to piss Sam off and Reader really wants to prove that she isn’t the least popular. Bucky and Reader team up to be a fake couple in order to beat the other Avengers, agreeing to split the prize at the end. Will it all work out?

A/N: The second part out in probably record time! I’m very thankful for the positive reception so far so hopefully, I don’t let you guys down. Thank you all again so much for reading. 

Warnings: Not approved by Captain Rogers’ Potty Mouth Prevention Unit

Series Masterlist

Originally posted by flyngdream

Media’s Attention

“When was the last time you went on a date, Barnes?” You hissed. You and Bucky walked down the sidewalk, hand in hand. When Bucky told you his great idea for a first ‘date’, you were convinced he had it down to the very last detail. Dates, wardrobe, lines. Like it was some sort of reality TV show.

Right now, he was nervous. He tried to keep a cool face, but he was holding onto your hand a bit too tightly.

“A successful date or just date in general?” Bucky asked. You wanted to facepalm so badly, but you didn’t want to make him feel worse. Pretending was fun as children, but now it just felt like work. Fake smiling for this long already had your cheeks starting to hurt. It didn’t help that every time Bucky whispered in your ear, you had to force out an appropriate giggle. Half the stuff he said were bad jokes that made you want to groan, and the other half was trying to stay sane while proceeding with the mission.

As fake as you felt, the plan was clearly working. You knew that more than just a few people have taken snapshots of you two strolling down the busy boulevards of Manhattan all cute and couple-like. Not to mention the whispers on the street. The city’s street lamps weren’t the best lighting, but you were certain that the city lights reflecting on your long dress would be a great cover for US Weekly.

Your date didn’t look bad either. He was less Bucky and more James Buchanan Barnes. His hair was neatly tied and combed back, with a full tux and everything. “It’s gonna be okay.” You go to wrap your arm around his and lean in closer.

You cup your hands around Bucky’s ear. “I bet by this time tomorrow we’ll be on the front page of every tabloid.”

He let out a small rumble of laughter. Sometime about the sound made you want to smile as well. It was strange seeing him so happy, even if it wasn’t really genuine. You felt the tension leave his arm and the stiffness disappears from his walk.

“I know being carefree isn’t exactly your thing, but if it makes it easier just think about how great it’ll feel to win the contest,” you suggest. Bucky looks over to you with a smile and a sly twinkle in his eye. You were starting to see what all the ladies in the forties must have been chattering about. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“For one, gotta give the people some good angles,” Bucky said. You rolled your eyes and playfully slapped his chest. “Two, you have a leaf in your hair.”

Your hands dropped his, flying to your hair to comb it through. Lo and behold, a single ivy green leaf got caught by your fingers. “You didn’t think to tell me this before the lenses started clicking?” Your face blossomed in pink.

Bucky chuckled again, only to take you by the shoulders and turn you around. “We’re here.” This must have been the playful side of Bucky you always heard Steve reminiscing about. You stared at the name of the restaurant Bucky brought you to. “Bucky, this is like a three star Michelin restaurant. How did you-”

Before you could finish your sentence, Bucky held your hand and led you in. “I have my ways, doll, but I think you’re blocking the entrance.” You turned behind to see a small line of people all dressed in silks and formal wear impatiently tapping their leather shoes. “I may have done a lot of research on the computer. Having a billionaire’s worth of knowledge and stuff doesn’t hurt either.”

“Why did you pick this place anyway? Not that it isn’t amazing, but I think this venue is a bit upscale and stuffy for both our liking,” you said.

A single glance around the place and you already felt like a fake. Giant crystal chandeliers hung over each table, which itself was decorated in gleaming white cloth and golden embellishments. Each chair sat someone who looked of high society and money. “And now I feel ever faker than before,” you mutter.

Bucky didn’t seem phased, instead putting his arm around you and giving your shoulder a reassuring squeeze. Following the waiter, you were escorted to a semi-private table for two.

“Did I pick the perfect spot or what?” Bucky gloated.

“I’ll say, it’s going to be so easy to spy on us. Even more so than whenever Steve tries to leave with just a baseball hat on,” you observe.

“That hat trick worked more than a few times, I’ll have you know,” Bucky informed you as-a-matter-of-fact-ly. “But that’s not why this spot is so great. Look over there.” He tilted his head toward another table. There sat a bunch of people in white shirts, ties, and some sort of ID hanging from their necks. Cameras and similar equipment were scattered on chairs and the tables around the area as well.

“Journalists?” You gasp.

“Not just any old journalists. Rumor has it that every year the best of the news world meet here to plan out their award ceremonies and whatnot.” Bucky said. “And what a coincidence that we’re right in their field of view.”

You look away to gape at Bucky. He wore a proud smirk on his lips. “Bucky Barnes, you are a genius.”

“Nah,” he reaches across the table for your hand. You gladly take it. “Just what any old guy who wants to win a bet would do.”

“Trust me, you may be old but you’re not just any guy,” you muse. He looked up at you in surprise and a few mixed emotions, but you were already flipping through the menu and gawking at the kinds of food and their prices. “Jeez Bucky, I hope you managed to find the end of a rainbow in time because I can’t pay for this with my salary.”

“I feel like you’re starting to doubt my abilities to pull this off,” Bucky said. The two of you continued to laugh and joke around until the waiter came by again.

He looked up from his notepad, eyes widened. For a few seconds, his eyes went from Bucky to you to him again. You and Bucky shared a knowing look. “P-pardon me Madame, what would you like to order?”

Bucky gave you a final nod, signaling for you to get the snowball rolling. “It looks like you caught us!” You held your hands up jokingly. “Yes, it is I, H/N with Bucky Barnes. Don’t worry, we’re not here on a mission,” you say loudly. Already, a few people turned to look, including the table of journalists.

“What an honor, Miss H/N, m-might I offer you a list of our specials?” The waiter started to stammer.


As the wait staff walked away, you and Bucky couldn’t help but burst into small fits of laughter. “My goodness, do you think the entire restaurant heard?” You ask between breaths.

“I’m almost positive they did. You seem to have a natural talent for ruining the classy ambiance with your loud voice. Not that it isn’t charming,” Bucky winked.

You two continued the conversation, ever so slowly inching towards one another. It wasn’t long before your face was right in front of his. You stared into his blue eyes, as mischievous as ever. Bucky glanced to the left once. Tucking a stray hair behind your ear, he came even closer. “Are they watching?”

You try to sneakily glance at the reporters’ table as well. “Almost for certain, yeah,” you said. In an instant, he pressed into you lips first. You sucked in a breath, nearly forgetting to kiss back. It was quick, sweet, and eye-catching. You hoped you were correct in hearing a camera shutter go off. Pulling away, Bucky seemed breathless. He continued to look at you in that strange way. Not exactly romantic or infatuated. More like…genuine amusement.

“Well, Mr. Barnes?” You raise your eyebrows at him. He looked confused. “How would you say our first kiss went?”

He groaned, making you laugh. “Don’t get cocky on me now.”

“No promises,” you shrug. “Don’t look now, but I think our plan is being executed quite smoothly. Journalist coming in on your left.”

You both turned and saw a woman in a red skirt with a pen and paper in her hands. She stopped right in front of your table with an excited smile. “How are you? Janet Howards, Entertainment Weekly. It is such an honor to meet you both.” She shook both of your hands firmly. “My colleagues and I couldn’t help but notice you guys. Mind if we ask some questions?”

Without even looking, you knew that Bucky was beaming. “Of course not, although we’d like to keep it low-profile,” you lied. You and Janet Howards both knew that this was going to blow up by the end of the day.

The quickfire questions came a bit faster than you had thought they would, although you and Bucky still answered like you practiced. Were you really dating? Any plans for the future? What warranted such a special night out? Do any of the other Avengers know about your romance? The questions were handled like clockwork. You remembered to look at Bucky with a fond gaze every now and then, which he gladly returned.

The answers were simple. After a lot of reality-tv binge watching with Bucky and YouTube searches about celebrity couple interviews, the whole media industry became as predictable as snow in the mountains. You gave every ounce of juicy ‘gossip’ over, from a secret romance to helping each other heal to hiding it all away from the public eye until now.

Janet bit her lip, trying to contain the excitement as she furiously scribbled down every last detail you and Bucky fed to her. There were a lot of “you guys are so great together"s and “sorry if this is too personal, but"s. The entire act felt just like that. An act. A beautifully rehearsed, made-to-sell act.

As Janet finally left you two alone, you let out a deep breath. "So, how do you think it went?”

“You were perfect, doll,” Bucky complimented.

“Not so bad yourself, Buck,” you smile back. As the two of you finished your meals and walked back to the car, still holding hands, you couldn’t help but marvel and how smoothly tonight went. “You know, tonight was a lot easier than I thought it would be, thanks to you.”

“What do you mean?” Bucky asked. He opened the car door for you.

You sat inside and finally let yourself relax into the chair. “Well, I guess this fake dating thing couldn’t have possibly worked out well with just anyone. I guess I’m trying to say that I’m glad you’re my fake boyfriend.”

Bucky laughed again. Unlike on the streets or in the restaurant, this felt real. “And you’re the best fake girlfriend I could have asked for.” A bit hesitantly, he kissed you on the forehead. You smiled and stared out the passenger window. Even though the entire night felt plastic, the wind in your hair and Bucky’s lingering kiss made you feel a little more alright.

Taglist: @agentsinstorybrooke @msiilpl  @just—love @rimuslymoony @mackenziesgalaxy @4babez @max-tro @221bbands @satansknittingclub @cassandras-musings @undiscl0sed-desir3s @aqueenwithoutherkingx @jigglology @starkxpotts  @teenwolflover28 @debzybrazy

criticaldrive  asked:

Valentine's Day is coming, what would the chocobros do for their S/O? :D

I had to get this typed up today! Happy valentines guys! (If you’ve read this you’re now my valentine, no take backs! Muhahaha, ily!) ❤ Anyway, read on and spend your valentines with your favourite chocobro! (Or if you’re like me, all of them…)


- Hey shall we go check out that dungeon for valentines? Just kidding. Kinda.
- Noctis would give you your card and you’d give him his, but before you can open yours he’d make an excuse to leave the room.
- Little do you know he literally just lingers outside of the door, out of view.
- Anyway, you open your card waiting for him to get back, but something falls out of it.
- A slip of paper lands in your lap, but you pick it up to see it’s a poem.
- Handwritten. In Noctis’ loopy scrawl.
- He’s written you a poem.
- And what’s more, it’s really good.
- About how you met, how much he cares about you, the way he adores how you look and just how you are.
- It’s all sappy and mushy and it’s just everything he wishes he could say to your face without it sounding muddled and a hell of a lot less eloquent.
- And then from the corner of your eye you spot the little bin he has in his room, filled to the brim with crumpled up paper that was extremely similar to yours.
- How long had he spent on it? Getting frustrated and no doubt worked up into an angry defiant ball as he so usually did. But he persevered because he just so badly wanted to tell you exactly how he felt but he sucks at speaking face to face about that kind of stuff.
- You’re emotional just thinking about how much work he had to have put into this one slip of paper.
- “Shit, are you crying?”
- His voice startles you, and you look up to see him walking over to you hurriedly.
- “I’m sorry if it’s not great, I tried.”
- “No silly, it’s… it’s wonderful, thank you.”
- “Oh… oh well, I’m glad you like it.”
- He’d go into bashful mode at your gratitude, which is why he left the room in the first place because he didn’t want to be all awkward for you.
- But his pulse is racing and his heart is singing because holy shit they like it.
- And all those hours he put in didn’t matter, because he’s just happy to know that you know how he really feels, and that you’re happy.


- You’d go over to see Prompto in the morning, but find he doesn’t seem to actually be in his house. He doesn’t answer when you call him. Instead, you find a picture taped to his bedroom door.
- It’s a picture of… the kitchen?
- You head on over to the kitchen holding the photograph, and look exactly where he took the picture to see another photo with a heart shaped chocolate next to it.
- This is a scavenger hunt!
- This picture shows the sofa in the living room area, so you hurry on over to it.
- Just as expected, there’s another photo and yet another heart shaped chocolate.
- So cute.
- This time this was a photo of the table behind you, but in the corner there were words written in the hand you recognised so well.
- ‘Getting warmer!’
- You turn to the table to see yet another photograph and of course, a heart shaped chocolate to accompany it.
- Lifting the photo you recognise that it’s a picture of Prompto’s bedroom. There is more writing on the photo in the same scrawl.
- ‘Nearly there now!’
- You rush to the bedroom, wondering what you might find, and open the door.
- There, right in the middle of the bed is your adorable boyfriend, looking really pleased with himself.
- On his lap is a huge teddy bear – so cliché but so adorable.
- “You found me!” He’s so excited, his blue eyes bright with excitement.
- “I did!” You’d go to join him on the bed, and he hands over the teddy bear to you.
- “Happy valentines! Oh and I also got you this…” His voice trails off a little at the end and you can tell he is suddenly nervous.
- He hands you something in a small brown paper bag. Curious, you slide the object out of the bad and into your palm.
- It’s an adorable photo of the two of you, looking incredibly happy together. The photo itself is in a silver frame, decorated with cutesy hearts.
- “I… I hope it’s alright. It’s my favourite photo.” He’s fiddling with the bed covers, barely able to keep contact cause damn it he’s just so nervous.
- Your heart could burst, this boy is the cutest!
- He beams as you tell him you love it.
- Best valentines ever.


- Gladio would act like normal for the morning.
- He’d give you a card of course, but say he has nothing planned.
- You’d be a bit disappointed, but what can you do?
- He’d even go off to do his usual workout routine. Maybe valentines just wasn’t his thing?
- So you’d go on about your day as normal, until the night fell.
- Suddenly Gladio’s face has lit up, he’s all smiles as he asks you to come outside with him.
- “Wha- but it’s night time?”
- “Come on!” He’d urge so you’d get up to follow him.
- Outside there are… candles? There’s a large candle every so often in the road, and you can see the trail lead off into the distance with a soft glow. You look back at Gladio in bewilderment.
- “You didn’t think I’d forget did you?” He is grinning, folding his arms and looking rather pleased with himself.
- “You did all that?” You gesture incredulously.
- “Well, I only set them out earlier, I enlisted the help of three friends to light them all.” He remembered how much complaining Noctis had done. It’s okay, my lover is worth it.
- Gladio took your hand and you set off walking under the blanket of the night sky, walking past one of the candles every now and then.
- “Here, I also got you this.”
- “Oh, what is it – Gladio.”
- He’s handed you a small survival tool kit.
- “It pays to be prepared. And it will put my mind at ease.” He insisted.
- You roll your eyes at him but you have to stifle a giggle. Typical Gladio.
- Finally you get to the end of the candle lit path, where a lovely bunch of roses are waiting for you.
- Gladio would wrap his warm jacket around you suddenly, taking you into his big strong arms.
- “Did I fool you then?”
- “You certainly did.” You told him, pulling him down for a kiss.
- He pulls away with that cheeky smirk in place, a glint in his eye.
- “What…?” You ask wearily.
- “I always wondered what it would be like to go… al fresco.”
- “Gladio!”
- His laugh is infectious and soon you join in.
- But hey, if you’re down with the idea he definitely is.


- This guy will play to his strength and cook you the most amazing meal you’ve ever had, and that’s saying something since you eat his cooking a lot.
- He’d have it all ready for you by the time you arrive, the table beautifully set and – of course – candle lit.
- He’d spoil you rotten the entire day as well, massages, food and drink, you name it.
- He’d also really love the gift you got him, and chuckle at the very soppy card (which by the way, he’d never get rid of).
- When he hands you his card, you realise he has hand made it. It’s lovely and elegant and so Iggy, but so you at the same time.
- When you finish the meal, he’d come round to your side and offer you his hand to dance with him.
- Even if you protest that you suck, he’ll let you stand on his toes and he’d guide you.
- All he wants is to be close and intimate with you damn it.
- He’d press you against him as you danced, needing to feel you close.
- He’s also really good.
- It would be slow and sensual, you’d be hyper aware of the way his fingertips drifted over your arms, rested at the small of your back, trailed over your jawline with feather light touches…
- “I don’t know if I’ve mentioned this at all… but you are truly beautiful.”
- “You may have mentioned it once or twice.” You’d tease him, to which he’d smile fondly.
- “It never hurts just to be sure.”
- Near the end of the song he’d dip you down in a classic move so smooth with his hands steadying you, your thigh round his hip.
- And he’d give you a little smirk before bending down to kiss you hard.
- When you’re finally up right, you’re giving him such bedroom eyes it unreal.
- You know he understands as his smirk turns into a full blown grin.
- “Shall we?” And with that he’d lead you to the bedroom.

BNHA Light Novel 2 Trans.

Chapter 4, AB Union: A Girls only Gathering, Part 1.


t/n some of the parts refer to stuff that happened in the previous chapter which was basically Mineta trying to peep on the B girls also it was really hard to translate some bits so it may seem really weird especially the ending where it got way toooo philosophical lol but I hope it still makes sense, also another disclaimer, this part is really long too imo D: 

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Ok but third-year team captain picks.

Everybody expects the captaincy to go to Kagami during the last year at Seirin, because he’s pretty much the face of the basketball club at this point. He’s got the presence and the “fuck yeah!!!” enthusiasm that motivates everybody, it seems like a given.

But he’s just so relieved when he’s passed over because seriously, he loves basketball and he’s been sort of getting used to senpai-ing Yagi and the walking attitude problem over there Asahina over the past year, but man he is so not the leadership guy. Or the strategy guy. Or the “herding a bunch of cats” guy.

So yeah. That torch thankfully passes him by and goes straight into the hands  of poor Furi, who looks ready to have a heart attack at the mere idea of being chosen, something is wrong here, surely Hyuuga-senpai was nominating some other Furihata–– *distressed fish noises*

He calms down somewhat when he remembers that vice captaincy is a thing and that it goes to Kuroko. Together they basically form one functional captain unit because Kuroko has the preternatural calm and Furihata exists in the visible light spectrum.

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anonymous asked:

IM ALWAYS A SLUT FOR MM IMAGINE BLOGS lololol anyways... Can I make a request of the rfa meeting their child after mc gave birth? (And for jaehee either they had a donor or both of them meeting the kid they adopted) Thanks in advance!!!

HAHA YEAH IM A SLUT FOR THEM TOO!!! i made this blog to provide my fellow mm imagine lovers with that good shit. i hope this fit your request!

♥ When the doctor called Yoosung in to see you and your child, hE RAN INTO THE OPERATION ROOM SO QUICK.
♥ He’d just see you cradling the little bundle of joy and he’d just stop in the doorway and start crying.
♥ He can’t stop smiling, he wants to hold them so bad but he’d be patient and gentle.
♥ Regardless on how sweaty or tired you were, he’d still say you were glowing and you were so beautiful.
♥ When he got to hold his child for the first time, he would just get so emotional.
“I’m so blessed that I got to experience this all with someone as wonderful as you, MC.”

♥ He’d insist on a homebirth, he didn’t want fans to intrude during the operation.
♥ He’d get a doctor to go to his apartment to assist you with the procedure.
♥ He’d let you hold his hand while you were in labor, he’d keep motivating you and kept a positive attitude.
♥ His heart would melt once he heard the cries of his child.
♥ He’d take a bunch of photos of you resting with your newborn and he’d set it as his lock screen. It was his motivation to work hard from now on.
♥ You, Zen, and the baby would do so much stuff together to make up for the stuff he never got to do with his family in his childhood.
“I hope this baby will grow up to be just as beautiful as me you, MC!”

Jaehee (I made this one adoption):
♥ The day you and Jaehee would finally get to meet your new adopted child would be the best day of her life.
♥ Jumin would finally be nice enough to give her an entire week off to bond with her child.
♥ When they hand Jaehee the lil baby, she closes her eyes and just breathes. She finally, for once, looks at peace and not stressed.
♥ Holding the baby really does ease her nerves and reminds her that all that hard work paid off.
♥ She’d read to the baby all the time, it’s what she loves to do most in her free time. She’s the best mommy ever
“I wonder what they’ll be when they grow up. Whatever it is, I’ll support them no matter what. Unless they don’t like coffee.

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Miles Wood #3 -

Anon asked: Can you please do a Miles Wood imagine of how he and y/n get in an argument and end up breaking up with each other. So she erases him from her insta and a bunch of guys notice and start sending her DMs and commenting on her pics and Miles notices so when he sees her, he apologizes and they kiss and makeup and while there kissing he takes a pic of them kissing and posts it on his insta captioning it “Mine.” Thanks!

Here you go! My Miles Wood requests are starting to slowly increase. I hope you enjoy this anon!

Break-ups are by no means fun but ones ended out of anger are somehow the worst. You and Miles had been together for a while which meant countless arguments but none nearly as bad as the one two weeks ago. You weren’t even sure who truly started the fight but the next thing you knew, you stormed out and went to stay with your best friend. She welcomed you with open arms and let you stay in her guest room.

In an effort to get your mind off of the break-up and because she is the best friend ever, the two of you planned a weekend trip up to a cabin in the mountains. She helped you “cleanse” your social media of any traces of him so that you had no desire to check up on him. After that, she implemented an electronic free zone on the house save for the television in the cabin’s den.

It was exactly what you needed and you felt significantly better to the point that you even refused your phone for the drive back.

“You might want to see what you’ve missed.”

You continued to load the bags in the trunk. “I think I’ll be okay for another three hours.”

“No seriously,” your friend held your phone out to you. “Look.”

“Fine, okay.”

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anonymous asked:

hey i dont even know if u take prompts or anything and i know ur super busy with Ships and other things but when phil tweeted about watching baby driver and how he cant drive i just thought of him and dan going up to phils parents house on holiday and phil taking the car so they could go somewhere like grocery shopping or to get take out or whatever and them kinda freaking out and laughing bc phil hasnt driven in so long and. yeah. like maybe for future reference? if u need a fic idea? idk lol

This probably wasn’t what you wanted. I honestly intended to have them freak out or for something to go wrong but they just got all soft on me and then… yeah. This happened. 

Hope you enjoy it anyway. 

This was totally just for writing warm-up so it’s really rough and unedited and will only be posted here, not on AO3 :)

Also I always like having a bunch of prompts in my inbox just for occasions like this so - keep ‘em coming everyone!

“I’m really not sure this is a good idea,” Dan says, hesitating with his hand on the door handle even though he heard the central locking click under his fingers.

“It’s fine.”

The problem with Phil was that he bumbled into these things, over confident, flippant almost, joyful in this assumption that things would be fine. And it never seemed to faze him when they weren’t. Which worked fine for the moments he jumped too quickly on a computer game, sure he’d be okay to do it only to plummet to his death. Sure, it wasted a life and Dan could get eye strain from rolling them so hard but no one was actually physically harmed in all of that. This was a different matter.

“You haven’t driven in ages.”

He still doesn’t move, just looks at him over the car roof as Phil pulls the door open and ducks into the driver’s seat, out of his line of vision.

“So?” he says as he does.

Dan tries bending to look through the window but Phil is fiddling with the seatbelt and resolutely ignoring him so getting in the car is the only thing for it.

“So what if you have an accident?” Dan says sliding into the passenger seat.

“I won’t,” Phil shrugs.

“I want you to know that I’m putting my life in your hands,” Dan says clicking his own seatbelt into place as Phil starts the engine.

“I have driven before,” Phil notes sliding the car into gear.

“Yes,” Dan nods, “And I feared for my life then too. It was ages ago.”

“Shut up,” Phil says, lifting his foot on the clutch so the car begins to move backwards. “I need to concentrate.”

Phil twists in his seat to look out of the back window.

“You’re not meant to do that,” Dan reprimands, completely ignoring Phils request for him to shut up. “Use your damn mirrors.”

“I prefer doing it this way.”

Dan curls a hand around the seat and grips. It’s not going to do anything if they do have an accident, and he’s mostly convinced that it won’t actually happen, but he can’t help doing it anyway.

He stays quiet at they pull out of the drive. He’d known it was dangerous when Mr Lester brought it up over dinner the night before, but had managed to remain silent on the issue even as they were ringing up to put Phil on the insurance that morning, only because he hadn’t really thought Phil would go through with it. It wasn’t until he’d caught sight of the wildly enthusiastic look in Phil’s eye as his dad passed him the keys that Dan knew it was actually going to happen.

“You can open your eyes,” Phil says.

Dan hadn’t realised he’d closed them.

When he does open them he’s greeted with the sight of Phil competently moving the car down the road. Something about the way Phil changes gear and checks his side mirror at the same time as they navigate a junction makes Dan’s stomach flip.

“You like it now.”

It’s Dan’s turn to tell Phil to shut up, but he doesn’t.

“It’s fine, I know I’m all manly and stuff driving my dad’s Volvo.”

Dan snorts and whacks Phil’s bicep with the back of his hand. “You spork.”

Dan begins to relax as they navigate a few more junctions without incident, even leans over to fiddle with the radio.

“I’m glad we could get out today,” Phil says.

“Yeah, s'good.”

“I thought we wouldn’t be able to when the trains were cancelled.”

“I mean, it wouldn’t have been the end of the world if we hadn’t gone, Phil.” Dan points out, “It was just an idea.”

“No,” Phil insists, reaching a hand over to squeeze at Dan’s thigh, “I want to go. We haven’t been back in ages.”  

“Both hands on the wheel,” Dan admonishes him, but his voice is fond and his face is moreso.

When they get further into the centre of town it starts to get busier and Phil’s brow furrows in concentration as they make their slow way in, navigating around the one way system and roadworks that send them through a diversion at one point.

Dan slips his hand on to the back of Phil’s neck as runs his fingers into the short hair at his nape.

“I’m beginning to like the car thing,” Dan says.

“I’m not,” Phil squints, and Dan can see the telltale  signs of travel sickness setting in as Phil has to concentrate on the road. This is usually the point on the train Phil would close his eyes, stop trying to focus on anything at all seeing as how it’s the movement and focussing which tends to make him feel queasy.

“Can’t do this on the train though,” Dan says, fluttering his hand again, ruffling Phil’s hair.

Phil’s head pushing back in to the touch and he lets out a little hum.

“Keep doing it til we get there?” Phil asks shyly, “It’s helping.”

Dan nods thought Phil can’t really see him and keeps up the gentle rhythm of his fingers.

They make it to the car park and Phil sighs when he turns off the engine.

“I’m beginning to remember why I didn’t like driving,” he says, head leaning back on the headrest.

“We got here in one piece though,” Dan points out, “no horrific accidents or anything.”

Phil rolls his neck until he’s looking at Dan and pouts.

“Come on,” Dan encourages him, “Let’s go be stupid sentimental idiots and get coffee at Starbucks.”

“Think our sofa will be free?” Phil asks ever hopeful, even though it hasn’t been free the last few times they’ve come back.


“How did we manage to claim it every time back in the day?” Phil asks as they get out of the car, the central locking clicking again as the doors lock behind them.

“We must have just looked nauseatingly pathetic,” Dan suggests, “No one wanted to stop us being all weird and codependent.”

“We’re still weird and codependent,” Phil insists, “Just… with shorter hair.”

Dan smiles and shoves his hands in his pockets. He’s still hesitant about the public thing, probably always will be. Phil is too, he can just get away with looking a bit fonder every now and again because he doesn’t have a broody socially awkward persona to maintain.

They step into the lift of the multi storey car park and make their way down to street level, their feet knowing the way before they even think about it. The car is new, the destination isn’t.

“Will you be okay driving back?” Dan asks, drifting a little closer so that his elbow brushes Phil’s.

“Yeah,” Phil assures him, “Traffic should be lighter and I know the way now so I won’t have to concentrate as hard.”

They have coffee, and it’s the same as it always is and there isn’t much remarkable about the place except the memories that it evokes. They take the opportunity of being in Manchester city centre to visit a few other places and Dan buys yet another pair of shoes even though Phil insists he doesn’t need them. Phil ends up getting a jumper with whales on it that Dan rolls his eyes at fondly in the next shop so they end up even in the disapproved purchase stakes.

It’s dark by the time they make it back to the car, plastic bags swinging from their hands.

“I had a good day,” Dan says, smiling widely as they get in.

“Me too.”

Neither of them are surprised. Just being with each other has always meant it would be a good day, regardless of what they’re doing. The nostalgia has been nice though.

Dan feels his head sinking ten minutes into the drive home. The orange streetlights are flashing across his face at rhythmic intervals and it begins to rain so that the soft patter of it on the window is a comforting sound, bracketed by the soft swish of the windscreen wipers across the glass.

Dan lets his head drop against the window and closes his eyes, he feels himself begin to drift into sleep, relaxed and happy. He lets himself slide into unconsciousness, confident in the knowledge that Phil will get them home.

boyfriend does my makeup! | youtuber AU

yoongi/jimin + yoongi does jimin’s makeup! + rated FC for FLUFFY AND CUTE HAHAHAHAHAHA  + i hope you guys enjoy this! + for my baby @yoonminist ♥♥♥ + THE HEARTS ARE THOSE CUTS IN YOUTUBE VIDEOS HAHAHAHA you know that thing they do where they just cut and like…yeah, i hope you guys don’t get confused since this is mainly dialogue!

[also on my AO3!]

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12x14 watching notes

this show normally never makes me cry except that 1 episode in season 7, but god dammit Berens got me TWICE I’m disowning him

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anonymous asked:

Can you do the main trio finding out their s/o id a professional swimmer and is a gold medalist in the Olympics?

Hey! I know the second request doesn’t want s/o to be an Olympic gold medalist, but your requests are very similar, so I wanted to put them together. I made sure to include some headcanons about a non-olympic swimmer, though. I hope this is okay! Thank you for the requests :3

[Viktor Nikiforov]

  • Every competition, every event, every anything, he’s there in the bleachers with your face on a shirt and your name on a big sign he’s holding
  • He even prints out a bunch of extra shirts in all different sizes to hand out to other spectators; they all give him really strange looks but take them anyway
  • mr. extra™ strikes again lmao what a cute bab tho amirite
  • As soon as he finds out you’re worthy of the Olympic games, he’s super excited and happy for you, but he tries to play it cool
  • “Pfft, Olympics? Not surprised. If anything, you’re too good to be competing in the Olympics. It wouldn’t be fair because of how much talent you have!”
  • and you know he’s going to pull the ‘i only kiss gold medals’ bullshit on you lmao but he’s such a softie he’ll kiss you no matter what
  • He takes pride in being able to stand next to such an amazing athlete, and he loves decorating his apartment with your combined awards and medals

[Yuri Katsuki]

  • He’s definitely a Proud Mom™ figure to you when it comes to sports, and he’s basically your number one supporter
  • and you know he packs you snacks and stuff for during/after your swim meets like ugh what a sweetie ;-; i love him
  • He really admires your work ethic and dedication to the sport; Yuri loves to sit in the stands at your swim competitions and just watch you do your thing
  • On nights before your swim meets, he cooks you big meals like katsudon to make sure you have enough strength and energy to perform you best the next day
  • After finding out about your participation in past Olympic games, he gets super excited and begs you to tell him all about it
  • imagine him looking like he did when he has his revelation about being a sexy pork cutlet bowl like awww such a cutie
  • Yuri understands how much pressure you can be put under while in competition, so he does his best to make sure you’re comfortable and calm while you’re competing
  • This sweetie pie is so proud of you and your dedication to the sport, regardless of how many medals you win

[Yuri Plisetsky]

  • Yuri thought swimming was a dumb sport before he met you, but you managed to change his perspective completely on how much work and dedication goes into the sport
  • When he attends your swim meets, he’s known to get a bit aggressive with the other spectators, yelling at them and threatening to fight them if they cheer to loudly for someone else
  • one time he got ejected for nearly starting a fistfight with another swimmer’s boyfriend and he went out and got ice cream for you as an apology lmao
  • Once he finds out you’re an Olympian, you basically give him the biggest mindfuck ever; he knew you were good, but knowing you were that good made his view on you go to the next level
  • He will probably get a little competitive with you, seeing who can get a better score/ranking in your respective competitions
  • and he always acts like ‘pfft so what i got a gold medal too’ but he secretly loves how you look with such a prize around your neck; it makes him proud
  • Yuri loves to post selfies of the two of you with all of the award’s you’ve both accumulated so he can post them and brag about how successful you both are
  • He may get a bit jealous when you perform better than him, but he’s your best supporter and he’s so proud of you and your accomplishments

anonymous asked:

14 burrcules? :D thanks!!

It had taken a long time to convince Hercules to open the store.

“I want to, you know I do.” Hercules stared hopelessly at the screen.

Aaron pushed gently into his side, trying to offer some comfort. “I know, honey. You can do it.” He tipped his forehead into Hercules’ shoulder, earning a soft rumble in return.

“I don’t think I can. It’s so hard.” Hercules moaned. Aaron felt his light tremble, pressed this close against him.

Aaron leaned over his boyfriend, avoiding the laptop, and gently placed his hand over Hercules’. “You can. I’m with you every step of the way, alright? It’s going to turn out great, and even if it doesn’t, I’ll still be there.” He nearly breathed a sigh of relief at Hercules’ soft smile. “Besides, you said I make a great model. It would be a shame not to show the world, right?”

Hercules laughed. The sound was beautiful, and Aaron felt himself relax more. They both relaxed, but they weren’t done. With his hand on Hercules’- and Hercules’ hand on the mouse- Aaron slowly pressed down. The left mouse button made a tiny click, deafening in the silence of the room.

“It’s… uploaded.” Hercules breathed, and then breathed again, deeper and calming. “My first clothing item, on my first online store.” He was pale, and sweating; but he was also smiling.

Aaron leaned up and gently tapped their noses together. “I’m proud of you, sweetheart.” Hercules blushed. It was a pet name Aaron saved for special occasions, precisely because it got the reaction that it did. He tilted his head and leaned up just a bit more for a kiss.


“Oh my god, I’ve got my first sale!” Hercules squealed, in a pitch almost too high for Aaron to hear. He held the phone away from his ear for a moment. “It’s the hat with the butterflies!”

“That’s amazing!” Aaron could feel himself light up. The whole work day had been a mess, but a bad day was nothing compared to hearing Hercules so happy. “When was it sold?”

“Ten minutes ago! I can’t wait to get off shift and ship it! And I should work on another, what if the rest sell? Oh my god, it’s only been two days since it launched!”

Aaron could not and would not prevent the deep belly laugh working it’s way out. “Dear, honey, one thing at a time!” The stress and anxiety of the past few days were completely gone. The big “what if no one buys anything at all” was answered. Hercules was selling- actually selling his work. “I’m very proud of you though, you know that?”

From the other side of the phone, Hercules scoffed; but even through the separation, Aaron could feel his pleased smile. “I don’t even know what they’re going to think of it. I’m just way too excited.”

“You’re allowed to be excited.” Aaron tried to push as much of the fondness he felt into his voice.

Hercules hummed, and didn’t say anything for a moment. “Yeah, uh, well, I should be getting back to work, and I know it’s not your lunch break right now.” Another pause. “But thanks. I know you know this, but I couldn’t have sold it without your help. Your support means a lot.”

Aaron’s heart skipped. He’d never get used to Hercules’ sheer honesty, or the way he always tried to make it clear just how much he appreciated emotional support. And speaking of, “If you want, we can celebrate when I’m off work.”

“Yeah,” Hercules’ voice was suddenly weak. “We can do that, yeah. I’ll see you after work, them.” He hung up quickly. Aaron did not bother hiding his smirk as he slid the phone away and turned back to his laptop.

“What the fuck, Burr.” Thomas was peering over, paused in the middle of walking to another office, papers clutched in hand. “Since when do you have a life outside work?”

Aaron laughed, mood too good to be even slightly annoyed by the comment. “None of your business, Thomas.”

Thomas shot an even stranger look, brows furrowed almost comically. Aaron ignored him and got back to work.


“Hey, how’s that store thing going, anyways?” Alexander sloshed his drink as he dropped into the booth. Aaron scooted back to allow him room.

Hercules laughed. “It’s been going great, man! Only a month and I’ve already sold a bunch of scarves, and a couple hats. For once, it’s actually great that work’s cut my hours so badly.”

Laurens made a long, pained noise. “Don’t give me flashbacks about fast food shift work. I’m so glad I’m out of that hellhole of a system.” He took a long pointed swig of his drink.

“The cafe’s treated me well, for the most part,” Hercules shrugged. “It always smells nice and the only people who go there are people who expect to wait for their lattés.”

“Just make sure you never work at Wendy’s.” Lauren’s said, puttng a finger gun to his own head.

“Come on, less work talk, more drink!” Lafayette placed another tray of drinks on the table, wiggling into the other end of the booth. This brought a round of cheers, Hercules whooping especially loud. Aaron snuggled into Hercules’ arm contentedly, reaching for a glass. What was once an intimidating excess of volume was now life and liveliness and comfort. Hercules brought his glass to Aaron’s, and he obliged, clinking them together just because he knew Hercules would giggle at it.

“Oh, and speaking of the store, I think I had an email notification, sometime on the way over.” Hercules rooted for his phone, careful not to jab Aaron, pressed against him.

“A new sale?” Aaron peeked at the phone, but it was tilted just slightly too far to read.

Hercules shook his head. “No, I made those go through another filter. This one’s a review.” His tone was excited, a silly smile working its way up his face. The review system had so far been a godsend for Hercules’ confidence. Aaron was just glad that people were finally beginning to recognize Hercules’ talents.

“So? What’s it say?” Aaron grinned up at his boyfriend. Hercules didn’t respond, suddenly hesitating. His brows crept down and together, lips turning slowly to a frown. Aaron’s grin slipped. “Dear?” Hercules’ phone hand dropped, slipping the phone away.

“It’s just-” Hercules’ voice hitched. He jumped as if not expecting it. Hercules started blinking rapidly. “I’m okay, it’s-” He cut himself off again.

“Herc, what’s wrong?” Alexander smirked. “Get a bad review?” He teased. The smirk melted away when Hercules suddenly burst into tears. “Wait, what the fuck?”

“Alex, shut up!” Aaron hissed. “Get out! He needs space!” From the other side of Hercules, Aaron tried to shoe Alexander off.

“What’s wrong with Hercules?” Lafayette asked, slipping into something almost as bewildered as concerned. Hercules started shaking. Aaron could hear him hyperventilating.

“He’s having a fucking panic attack!” Aaron snapped, “Stop gawking and get some water! And stop everyone from staring!”

Lafayette stumbled off, but he wasn’t Aaron’s concern right now. “Hey, sweetheart, it’s okay.” Aaron whispered, his words not meant for the others. “Can you take big breaths?”

Hercules tipped his head so that his face wasn’t visible, but nodded. “Do you want me to hold your hand?” Aaron ventured. Another nod. Quickly, Aaron clasped them, together in both of his. God, Aaron hoped he was doing this right. He’d only seen Hercules in a panic attack twice before, and he was determined to be useful.

“No one’s looking, okay sweetheart? I sent them away.” Aaron tried to assure, remembering the advice Hercules gave once, of what he personally needed during an attack. Sure enough, Laurens and Lafayette and Alexander were all out of the booth, creating something of a human shield. A glass of water had been slid towards them.

“Are you good with breathing? Do you want help?” Aaron squeezed his hands. Hercules tipped his head up slightly. His eyes were puffy.

“I’m- I’m good.” Hercules pushed out, voice shaking as much as he was. “Can I… h-hug you?”

Aaron answered by climbing into Hercules’ lap and stretching his arms over and around Hercules’ broad shoulders. They stayed like that for a few minutes. Aaron felt his boyfriend’s heart rate slowly go down.

Hercules eventually spoke again. “Sorry,” He started. “It was just a bad review. I shouldn’t have freaked out like that.”

Slowly, carefully, Aaron pecked Hercules on the cheek. “Don’t be sorry, sweetheart. Panic attacks are nothing to be ashamed of. They happen.”

Hercules seemed to melt into the embrace. “I know. I thought I was ready for this, though. Of course I knew this was going to happen eventually.”

Aaron smiled. “You were ready for it, though. It happened, and now you’re feeling a bit more okay, right?”

“I… guess I am.” Hercules returned the smile.

A sharp cough interrupted them. “Uh, sorry for that,” Alexander scratched his head, sheepish. “I didn’t realize you had anxiety.” To his credit, Alexander did look appropriately guilty, eyes averted.

“It’s fine.” Hercules said, always quick to forgive. “You’ve all never seen it, and I’ve never said it. The whole anxiety… thing,” Aaron leaned into Hercules neck and smiled. Hercules may step around the word, but he’d gotten so far since being unable to come to terms with Anxiety. “ It’s the reason I’ve never tried selling my stuff before. But now I’ve got Aaron to help me out.”

Aaron yelped as Hercules’ fist came down on his head in a gentle noogie. “Oh my god! Honey, what the fuck.” He shot a reproachful stare. Hercules burst into laughter. Even with puffy, red rimmed eyes, it was a beautiful sight. “Sweetheart, why?” Aaron whined into Hercules’ ear. He flushed.

Aaron loved his boyfriend.

Her hidden talent

a/n: This is a little nonsense I came up with, hope you’ll enjoy it! Reference to smut and a little teasing. Feedback is appreciated!

word count: 1806

I was still in my pyjamas, sitting on our bed with my guitar Shawn bought me for my birthday last year and a notebook that looked all creased and beaten. The page where it was open was full of scribbles, crossed-out lines and new ones written above them.

‘What if after G I play a D and then an Em.’ - I mumbled to myself as I was trying to figure out the chord progression. I placed my hand on the fret and played the chords while humming the lyrics. ‘Yeah, that sounds about right.’ - I took my pencil and wrote the chords above the words.

‘Okay, let’s see from the beginning.’ I started playing again but heard the front door open and close.

‘Honey, I’m back! - Shawn’s voice came from downstairs.

I panicked and tossed the notebook under the blanket and put the guitar back on its stand like I didn’t even touch it. I exited the bedroom and walked downstairs quickly. We met halfway on the stairs. I hugged him without really thinking about it, and he had to drop his gym bag to be able to catch me.

‘I’m really sweaty!’ - he chuckled as I buried my face in his chest.

‘And smelly.’ - I grimaced as the strong scent of the gym filled my nostrils. I lifted my head to plant a kiss on his lips and because I was standing higher on the stairs than him I didn’t even have to go on tiptoe to do that. ‘But I still love you, even when you’re sweaty and smelly.’ I smiled at him.

‘Lucky me.’ he pulled me in for another kiss. ‘I go take a shower and then I’m yours all day.

‘Really? I thought you have a meeting with Andrew.’

‘No. It got pushed to tomorrow. I’m all yours for today.’

‘Sweet. And what do you wanna do? We could go out and have brunch or stay in all day. Whatever you want.’

‘I think we should stay in, watch Netflix and chill.’ - his hands travelled down from my waist to my arse and gave it a firm squeeze.

I giggled to his suggestion and kissed him again but with more passion this time showing him how much I like his idea.

‘Go and take that shower then. Be quick. - I whispered pulling away from him, stepping out of the way.

He walked upstairs with a cheeky grin all over his face and I watched him disappear into the foyer admiring his perfect body. I grabbed his gym bag and walked downstairs to the laundry room to put away his training gear. After I finished I decided to watch some TV until Shawn was ready with his shower.

I watched an entire episode of The Big Bang Theory when I started wondering where the hell he was. I didn’t hear water running anymore so I went to search for him. I walked upstairs and into our bedroom where I found him sitting on the bed, only wearing a boxer and reading a notebook. MY notebook. Shit.

‘Hey, that’s mine!’ I said with panic in my voice and tried to grab the notebook to get it back. He reacted quickly and hold out his arm so I couldn’t reach the book. I stepped closer to him still aiming to reach the book but he grabbed my waist with his free hand and pulled me to his lap. Now I was kneeling on the bed straddle style in Shawn’s lap but still couldn’t reach the book.

‘Shawn, give it back! It’s mine!’ but he was just laughing at me, still holding the notebook out of my reach.’ It’s not funny! Give it back! I’m serious!’ I tried to free myself from his grip but he was too strong. I changed tactics and stopped wrestling in his lap, pouting at him. ‘Please, would you give it back to me?’

‘Not until you explain what this is.’ he said, a cocky smile spread on his beautiful face.

‘Nothing.’ I replied with annoyance.

‘Really? Because to me, it seems like song lyrics.’

‘You weren’t supposed to see that. It’s not for you. Please, give it back.’ I tried again, but I knew he won’t let it go.

‘Did you start writing songs?’

I didn’t answer, instead, I pressed my lips to his, hoped it would surprise him enough to let go of the notebook. Taking advantage of the fact that he was wearing only boxers I tried to distract him enough he would forget about that stupid notebook I didn’t hide properly. I deepened the kiss, wrapping my hands around his neck, grinding on the soft fabric of his underwear. He didn’t protest and even pulled me closer by wrapping his hands around my waist. My hands travelled down his well-trained arms and I was inches away from the book he was still holding in his hand when he broke the kiss and pulled away from me.

‘Good try! But I’m not gonna let this go that easily.’ he said with a husky voice.

I moved my hips against his erection as a final try, but he tossed the notebook to the other side of the bed, grabbed my waist and lifted me off his lap, putting me down on the bed next to him.

‘Spill the beans, y/l/n! Did you start writing songs?’ - he used my last name, which meant I won’t get out of this without giving him an explanation.

I leant back on the bed, staring up at the ceiling before I finally gave in.

‘Maybe.’ - I said letting out a sign.

‘When?’ he asked, laying down next to me.

‘After you went away for tour.’ I felt my cheeks burning up. It was supposed to be my secret. No one should have found out. Especially not Shawn.

‘Why?’ came his next question and it felt like I’m at an interrogation.

‘I don’t know.’ I lied, finally looking at him desperately wanting him to drop the subject.

He rolled to his side, reaching out to brush away a lock of hair from my face with his fingers.

‘Tell me, please.’ He pleaded.

Maybe it was because of the way he said please, the words started pouring out of me.

‘I was feeling so alone after your tour started. I was here all by myself, we just moved in here, everything was new and it didn’t feel like home yet. Without you, I felt miserable in this big house. I tried to distract myself, working harder, staying at the office later than usual, going out with my friends more or asking them over for a girls night in, visiting my family more often so I wouldn’t have to be alone. I did everything to avoid being here alone. But I not always had a choice. One night it was this huge storm. It was pouring rain, crazy wind, thunder, lightning, everything you can imagine. And I was so scared. I didn’t know why. Usually, a storm doesn’t bother me. But I guess because I was alone in a new house that didn’t feel like home yet, I just didn’t feel safe enough either.’

‘Why didn’t you call me? We could have facetimed. It’s not the same, I know, but maybe it would have helped.’ he interrupted me, his voice filled with worry and guilt.

‘And admit that a stupid storm scared the living shit out of me? You know me better than that! My proud would never let me do that! Anyway, the storm was on full blast, I couldn’t go back to sleep so I grabbed my guitar and started playing the songs you taught me. It felt like you were there with me. It distracted me from the storm, from how alone I felt. After that night I played every day. It was the best distraction. I learnt new songs, watched a bunch of tutorials on Youtube. It helped pass the time and slowly I felt better and better. One day I started humming this melody. It got stuck in my head so I wrote it down. A few hours later I had a song. With lyrics and everything. It felt amazing. So I kept writing and playing. I thought it will end when you’re finally back home. But tour ended a month ago, you’re here, everything is back to normal, but I’m still coming up with new stuff.’ Now a big smile was playing on my lips I couldn’t explain. I didn’t mind that Shawn found out about my little secret. I was happy about it actually.

He reached out above my head to seize the notebook again, and this time I let him. For a few minutes, none of us said anything, I was watching him study the songs I wrote.

‘I’m sorry I left you alone here like that.’ he glanced up from the book, sounded sad.

‘Don’t. It’s not your fault. And you couldn’t have done anything. You were on tour. I’m fine now.’ I kissed him softly to reassure him that everything was okay. ‘You’re here now.’

‘But I still feel like a let you down…’

‘Shawn, stop! You didn’t! It was a tough year, but I swear I’m okay. Really! Believe me!’ I wrapped myself around him, resting my head on his chest. I wanted to be as close to him as I possibly can.

‘I believe you!’ he kissed my forehead. ‘You know, some of this stuff in here are actually really good!’ he waved the book in front of me.

‘You really think so?’ I looked up at him in surprise.

‘Absolutely! We should record them and release them! People should hear it!’

‘Don’t be ridiculous. I’m not a musician. I’m sure no one would like my songs!’

‘I’m not kidding! You are talented! I know you can sing too! Seriously we should record these songs, put out and EP and launch your music career! I’ll talk to Andrew about it tomorrow.’ he was not kidding and it shocked me. I don’t want to start a music career. This is absurd.

‘You’re crazy!’ I said in complete disbelief.

‘I am not! I always knew you’re good! You should really do something with it!’ he started rambling about label contract, singing lessons, studio sessions and a bunch of other stuff I couldn’t keep up with. He got so excited about this whole thing I just didn’t know what to do, so I did the first thing that came to my mind to shut him up. I kissed him.

‘Right now I just want you to kiss me everywhere and make love to me. Please, drop this nonsense!’

I kissed him again, he rolled us over so he ended up being on top and we didn’t talk about my imaginary music career for a long time after that.


Originally posted by donghyunist

Requested; Hoshi x Reader (S. Coups’ sister)

Words: 1156

You were just a normal person living a normal life. Except for the fact that you lived on the streets because you were poor with no job.

Your mother kicked you out recently, she was kind of going crazy. You thought about trying to find your father, who also had your brother that you just found out about.

When your mother kicked you out, she threw out a bunch of stuff, and you decided to take it all. There was a photo book, filled with pictures of you, your mother, your father, and another male. Looking throughout the pictures, you found out it was your brother. Your mother had shown you pictures of your father, but never a brother.

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