because she likes dirty places and can only feel comfortable with it :p

Rainy Day Cuddles || Peter Parker x Reader

{summary: in which Peter Parker finds that spending a stormy day alone with his crush may not be such a bad day.}

me to me: stop writing so much about Peter. You’re annoying everyone in the tags.

also me to me: stfu ho, why don’t you make me stop?

warnings: none

**don’t plagiarize/repost this story! Reblogs are fine**


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Double Trouble

Here’s another post TVD finale drabble, hope you like it!

Two years later - Mystic Falls

Klaus drove past the familiar sign, although he wasn’t sure if he was going to be very welcome in town after her threatening letter demanding his presence to discuss Hope. She’d been studying at Caroline’s magic school in Mystic Falls for about six months now, after all Klaus couldn’t think of anyone better to teach his daughter. She’d certainly taught him a lot over the years and given his age that was saying a lot.

Klaus smiled thinking back to the day he received her correspondence in New Orleans. Kol had bounded excitedly into their kitchen throwing the letter in his direction, although not before gleefully teasing him about being in trouble with the school principal. He’d muttered something about minding his business and taken it into the courtyard far from his brother’s prying eyes.

Klaus lifted the envelope flap in anticipation. He couldn’t believe how nervous and excited he was at the same time as he perused her neat cursive.

Stop dodging my calls and sending your relatives to deal with your daughter. Get your hybrid butt to Mystic Falls now. I’ll be here waiting and none of that however long it takes either, Mikaelson.

Ms Caroline Forbes - Principal.

He had to chuckle that such an informal parent/teacher letter was signed so formally at the bottom. Only Caroline Forbes. He couldn’t believe she’d use his own words against him either, she was obviously pretty desperate to get him there. Maybe he’d dodged a few calls and sent Rebekah in his place last month but he knew exactly why she wanted to see him. It wasn’t just his daughter that was in trouble and he knew it.

“Took your sweet time,” Caroline said by way of a greeting as he pulled up outside the former Salvatore Boarding House. She was dressed casually in jeans and a cornflower sweater that only brought out those blue eyes he remembered so well. Her arms were crossed over her chest and her brow was furrowed. She made the perfect principal with that unamused expression, he was probably more scared of her than her students right now.

“Do you greet all the parents this way, or am I just lucky, love?”

“Not sure I’d call you lucky, Mikaelson,” she growled. “Come right this way.”

“Where are we going?” He asked noticing they were walking away from the house and towards an older looking building nearby.

“To my private office, wouldn’t want to scare all the children now would we?” Klaus was tempted to tell her just how hot this angry principal act was making him as she strode ahead her hips wiggling tantalisingly, but he thought better of it.

“Is that where you keep your whips for punishment?” She stopped walking momentarily and turned to face him, her eyebrows raised curiously.

“I don’t whip the students but I might make an exception for you,” she shot back, before continuing onwards. Did that mean she had whips? Klaus was suddenly desperate to know but again thought better of it given her current temperament.

Her office was surprisingly modern and spacious with a large desk and a couch seated by an antique fireplace. Before he could get too comfortable she gestured towards the chair at the desk. “Sit.”

“I think you’ve got me mixed up with a dog, love. Us wolves don’t generally sit on command,” he joked. Her stony expression remained unchanged even though Klaus thought it was pretty funny. “Sorry Ms Forbes.”

“I don’t need to tell you why you’re here given the fact you’ve been avoiding me.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he lied.

“Not only can’t you compel me but you are the worst liar,” she drawled. “At least try hiding those dimples when you do it. I should know given your daughter does exactly the same thing. Look, Hope is a wonderful child, talented too but I don’t need to tell you that either.”

“Well she does have those impeccable, Mikaelson genes.” Klaus couldn’t miss her exaggerated eye roll, it was definitely a look he’d missed all this time.

“You know the first day I taught Hope I thought it was sweet, albeit a little old fashioned, when she gave me an apple. But then came the beignets, the chocolate truffles and the many bunches of flowers.”

“She’s also inherited my fine taste,” he boasted. Klaus noticed she hadn’t mentioned his latest gift though and he wondered why.

“Oh p-uh-lease,” she groaned. “You need to stop with all the gifts and the gestures and even more so stop making your daughter do your dirty work, Klaus.”

“Well, I’d hardly call it dirty work,” he scoffed.

“Not only is it unprofessional for me to accept such lavish gifts from a student, it makes the other children feel insecure because they can’t compete, Klaus,” she explained, obviously trying to reason with him. “The last thing Hope needs is for the other kids to resent her.”

“She can most probably annihilate them all so making friends isn’t all that important,” he insisted.

“Says the friendless, Original Hybrid who daggered his own siblings and kept them in coffins for years,” she responded.

“And here I thought that we were friends now, love.”

“Not if you keep giving me gifts via your daughter. Please, Klaus?” Then came the adorable puppy dog eyes and Klaus knew that he had no choice but to relent. Klaus had come to think of his little gifts as a way to keep their connection alive. He’d missed her terribly and although he meant it when he said however long it takes, it didn’t make it any easier having to wait for the love of his life.

“Fine but I wouldn’t put it past my daughter to improvise, she can be extremely creative and I know just how much she adores you already, love.” The smile that crossed her face was exactly what he’d been craving since arriving at the school.

“I’ll be ready for it.”

“So, it’s probably best you return that particular gift to me then. I wouldn’t want it to be inappropriate or anything.” Caroline regarded him curiously across the desk, her hands clasped together as she did.

“Oh of course,” she said finally, busying herself with her desk drawer. “Thank you. This thing feels as if its been burning a hole in my pocket.” What she slapped on the table wasn’t what he was expecting. The cheque he’d written two years ago in all its glory. Klaus knew it hadn’t been cashed but he figured she was waiting for the right way to spend it. She was a perfectionist after all.

“This is for the school Caroline. I admire what you’re doing here and believe me this place is a worthy recipient of these funds.”

“I can’t accept it, much like all these other gifts.”

“Well, consider it extra tuition fees for putting up with Hope,” he pleaded. “She can be a handful when she wants.”

“Only when her father interferes.”

“I’m curious, why is it so hard to accept anything from me, love?” She paused, her eyes cast downwards and firmly trained on the cheque between them. Klaus moved forward impatiently in his chair desperate to hear her explanation.

“It’s not that I don’t appreciate the gestures, Klaus. I do,” she paused again momentarily. “But to be honest I want something more. Something deeper, more profound and special from you Klaus. I think I always have.” His throat was dry and Klaus was unable to answer if he tried given the desperation and hope pulsing through his body. “I want you.”

“You do?” He blurted out, gone was his composed front after hearing the words he’d wanted to hear for so long.

“However long it takes,” she murmured, placing her hands over his comfortingly.

“The letter,” he murmured, still trying to come to terms with her frank and unexpected confession.

“I thought it was fitting to put it in my letter,” she grinned. “But I’m curious, if you weren’t expecting the cheque what did you want instead?”

“My sketch,” he said. “Hope gave you that a few weeks ago as far as I understand.” It was something that had come to Klaus in the middle of the night and he’d stayed up for hours perfecting her expressive eyes and those free flowing, golden waves. It had been inspired by their moment after graduation when he’d promised to be her last love. Looks like that started today.

“You’re going to have to fight me for that, Mikaelson.”

“Looking forward to that, love. We do have forever after all,” he smiled, standing and making his way around the desk desperate to hold more than just her hands. He pulled her flush against him, leaning down to brush those pink lips he’d dreamt of since the woods that fateful day.

“I thought I was supposed to be punishing you right now,” she whispered when he was only inches from her waiting mouth.

“Should we bring out the whips then?” Before she could reply his mouth was on hers and all of a sudden the world didn’t exist because they were too caught up in each other and their long future together.

You can read my drabble collection HERE

The Professor (Part 12)

A/N: For the sake of the story, let’s pretend that ‘What’s Your Number?’ is on Netflix. Also, I’m apologizing because there’s no smut - it was getting way too long and it would’ve been boring lol.

The Professor Masterlist Previous Part

You’d gone for a casual choice of clothes and you’d put your hair up in a ponytail and worn your glasses. You checked yourself in the mirror after you pulled up outside his apartment. Butterflies occupied your insides - you had no idea what was going to happen. The rational side of your mind was telling you that it was just going to be a relaxed hang out. You’d talk about life, maybe watch a movie, eat something…yeah, maybe have a taste of something new…

Your friendship with Chris was a strong, healthy one and you didn’t want to ruin that with what the crazy side of your brain was hoping would happen: good, thorough fucking, maybe? But honestly? You didn’t want the first time with a person you’d been seeing to be meaningless. You didn’t want cheap, meaningless fucking. You wanted your first time with him to be unforgettable, passionate…perfect. 

On the other hand, the idea of him bending you over and fucking you relentlessly was so tempting, so enticing. No, you told yourself, that would have to wait till another time. Besides, you still had to take the next step: kissing. 

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Joker Imagine - Zombie Virus

Anonymous said:hi can you do joker x reader where he kidnapped her but then there’re this virus that started to turn people into zombies. joker and reader are the only two people who didn’t get infected. reader is an innocent girl who didn’t know how to fight or protect herself so the joker has to protect her from the zombies and they ended up falling for each other? this would be fun xx love your blog

AN: Thanks for the request. I’m glad you love my blog haha AND SORRY FOR THE LONG WAIT :C

Originally posted by harleyquinnsquad

Originally posted by r--e--v--e--n--g--e--r

Joker’s P.O.V.

What a fucking mess.

Somehow the entire city of Gotham was a complete destruction. The CIA had tested something here secretly and failed miserably. A virus started spreading through the city and the lucky people managed to leave before it was too late. Now the entire city was isolated from the rest of the world. It was a huge city, but millions of people escaped. Now we were here, but still about hundreds of thousands of people were left here, spreading the virus and turning soulless braineaters. Leaving would be very hard since literally zombies were lurking around everywhere. I even lost my henchmen and my only friend, Frosty. It hurt, but I had to stay strong. I had hope that I could get out of this city that would probably get burned down someday.

I was alone in my big block of flats ,packing bags so I could fill my car and flee. I was so pissed at the CIA and overall the government for letting this happen. Gotham City was never going to be the same. Everything would have to be destroyed completely to get rid of the virus and it could take tens and tens of years. I’d be lucky to get out of here.

Suddenly I heard something. I froze on the spot and grabbed my gun tightly. I looked around the dim hall and tried to find whatever was moving. That’s when I saw a reflection of someone behind me from the mirror, causing me to turn around and point at the person with my gun before I’d get bitten. ‘’No! P-Please don’t shoot me!’’ A girl whimpered and stepped back, raising her arms in surrender. My grip loosened on the gun and I looked at her in surprise. A fucking healthy person.

She had Y/H/C hair, put into a ponytail and she had some wounds, but she didn’t seem infected. I looked into her pretty E/C eyes and saw how scared she was. ‘’Please Joker..I’m not infected. I thought..I thought you weren’t either so ..maybe you could help me’’  She admitted very nervously while staring at my gun. ‘’Me? Help you?’’ I laughed at first and lowered my gun. Damn she had guts tho!

‘’Please! My friend is at the borders so we could pass easily. But I can’t get there by myself’’ She admitted and held back tears. Now we were talking. ‘’I can’t fight and even less protect myself. If..If you want, I can get us both out of Gotham’’ She tried to make me listen to her. The deal sounded valid and good. I looked at her darkly and tried to think. She was trembling in fear and I knew she was relying on me. How bittersweet.

‘’Fine’’ I sighed and put my gun into my jacket. Then I reached out my hand so we could seal the deal. The girl grabbed my hand nervously and so we shook hands. ‘’What’s your name pretty?’’ I asked and then looked around us to make sure no zombies were hunting for us. ‘’I’m Y/N’’ She let me know and then looked at me. She was very beautiful.

‘’Well Y/N I’m honoured that you came to me’’ I giggled, even tho I bet she only came because she was pretty sure I wasn’t infected. So what, at least I knew that passing the border would be easier now. ‘’Thank you so much for not shooting me’’ She thanked me and sounded very grateful. Something told me that this would be more fun than I thought. It didn’t suck to be with her because being alone made the voices in my head get stronger. I had pretty much lost everyone I ever had also my home.

‘’Let’s start by packing my car with guns, bullets, loads of water and first aid kits’’ I said with a bossy voice and walked to the stairway. Y/N followed me closely and I knew she was probably scared to death. She seemed innocent, like a good girl and I, an evil villain was her last hope

                      Two days passed somehow slowly. We had packed the car and I taught her how to shoot. Her hands were shaky and she shot far away from the target, but she was getting the grip. Our targets were zombies we shot from the windows. First she was terrified, but she grew to like it. It’s not like zombie lives mattered anyway.

We were packing the last food I had in my penthouse and I knew we were going to leave. I loved this house so much, but  I had to say goodbye. It made me feel so empty it was ridiculous. I never thought that a place could mean so much. ‘’Do you know where you’re going when we pass the border?’’ Y/N asked me while drinking some clean water. She was obviously more comfortable with me know. We both kinda relied on each other so we had to get along.

‘’Yeah, I’m going to New York city. Reminds me most of Gotham’’ I told her while looking out of the big window. The penthouse was so high that I was sure no one could get up here, but the danger was still there. The streets were trashed, full of bodies and then zombies. The sky seemed to have a dirty red colour and the city smelled like shit. Everything was destroyed.

‘’Well what a coincidence’’ Y/N said somehow happily. I turned to look at her. She had taken a shower earlier so her hair was still a little wet. She was wearing all black jeans, a top, combat boots and a leather jacket. She also had a gun that I gave to her even tho she sucked at shooting, at least so far. ‘’Well you won’t get rid of me after all then’’ I chuckled, feeling kinda happy that she was going there as well. At least our ride would be longer together.

‘’So..When are we leaving?’’ She asked me, putting the glass down. I sighed and looked at my golden watch. ‘’In ten minutes. We could already go down into the car’’  I explained and the same empty feeling took over me. I would really miss Gotham City. Y/N nodded and grabbed the last bag with food. I grabbed my gun and led the way out of the penthouse. Goodbye my home, the place of amazing memories..

Just as I opened the door, I saw a zombie in the hall, in front of the elevator. It was growling and shaking. It’s skin was rotten and I could see that it’s cheeks were hollow. The zombie saw us and tried to attack, but I shot it three times in the head until it fell on the ground. It tried to crawl to us, but it was unable to move. ‘’Let’s go’’ I growled and glanced at Y/N who looked scarred for life. We got into the elevator and I pushed her in the corner to keep her safe.

The elevator took us down and the doors slid open. The parking hall was very risky because anyone could come here. Before stepping out of the elevator, I looked around the dark parking hall. I saw a few abandoned cars, but my car was nearly right in front of us because I left it there. It was pretty full, but the front seats were there for us.

‘’It’s clear’’ I whispered and walked out, gun first. Y/N was obviously scared, but she trusted me enough to follow me. First I opened the car door for her and she sat in. Just as I shut the door for her,she screamed. I turned around and started shooting. A zombie had tried to sneak up to me, but now it was on the ground. ‘’Fucking hell’’ I spat and then hurried to my side of the car. I shut the door and then locked all doors so no one could open them. My heart was beating hard in my chest and I felt adrenaline pumping through my system.

That’s when I heard heavy breathing. I glanced at Y/N who was finding it hard to breathe calmly. ‘’Hey -relax. We’re okay’’ I reminded her while starting the engine that growled loudly. ‘’I thought it fucking bit you’’ She admitted and rubbed her eyes. I didn’t like seeing her  like this. So I put my hand on her knee and rubbed it gently. ‘’I’m fine, okay? Let’s go now. Freedom is awaiting’’ I tried to make her calm down. Y/N looked into my eyes and then nodded slightly. 

I started driving and I headed straight onto the highway. I had to be careful because the zombies threw themselves on the road and it was full of weird things. I looked at the buildings I once knew well. Now they were broken, burnt and full of living dead.Even my club was a big mess. It was the last time I ever saw Gotham, the city I loved yet terrorized every night.

After driving for a quarter, I decided to turn off the radio. A woman was speaking, trying to reach those who were uninfected. I had heard that speech a trillion times already. ‘’Did you lose anyone?’’ I asked Y/N and tried to start a conversation. ‘’Yeah..’’ She started and then swallowed. Oops, I probably asked something wrong. It wasn’t my fault I wasn’t the best guy to talk to. All I ever discussed was crime, not normal topics.

‘’I lost my daughter’’ She admitted and that’s when my heart made a weird thing happen. I glanced at her again and saw sorrow on her pretty face. ‘’I’m sorry’’ I muttered and then kept my eyes on the road. ‘’It’s okay Joker.. The night the virus spread, I was out with her, playing in the park. She was just four’’ She started, but teared up and sounded completely devastated. But talking did good so I let her open up to me.

‘’I heard her screaming and I..I saw someone biting her..I didn’t know what to do..It..It happened to fast’’ She started crying. I felt bad for her. Losing someone important hurt, no matter who you were. ‘’Then t-they said that we had to evacuate and anyone who was bitten should be left behind. I waited in hopes my daughter was fine..but she wasn’t. T-Then it was too late for me to escape safely..I had to kill her’’ She let me know something so deep. Ouch.

‘’I’m sorry Y/N..I really am’’ I admitted while driving towards the borders. They were extended for safety reasons. She was crying now so I grabbed a tissue from the hand box and gave it to her. She mumbled and thanks and then wiped away her tears.  Based on what she told me, she was a single mother. Or else she would have said something about her boyfriend as well.

After a while we started talking about more ‘normal’ things. That made time pass quicker as we drove. Before we knew it, we saw the heavily guarded borders. ‘’ friend is at the 37th district right there. They..They would probably not let you go but I’ll make her do that’’ She said and pointed to our right. I drove there and then put on the hat and sunglasses I took with me. 

I slowed down and suddenly a redhead walked over. She was wearing a very protecting suit, almost like she worked in a lab or something. I rolled down the window and let Y/N do her business. First she showed a pass to her friend. ‘’Leave quickly, okay? The second you get through, just speed like there’s no brakes. Or else you’ll be stopped. I’ll reassure the other guards that you weren’t infected so you should be safe’’ The redhead told us quietly.

Y/N and I thanked her in unison and then I rolled up the window. I watched as the gates opened for us. ‘’Hold on tight’’ I told Y/N and then hit the gas pedal, making us go quickly The other guards stepped aside and we were long gone before they could do anything. We were out of Gotham city. I looked behind us through the mirror and watched the gates closing. That’s the last time I’d ever be so close.

‘’We’re safe now’’ I breathed out and got on the big road. Immediately I saw more traffic, but not that much. People were just driving far away from that living dead city. ‘’Now what?’’ Y/N mumbled nervously. ‘’What?’’ I tilted my head curiously and glanced at her quickly.

‘’What are you going to do to me? You don’t need me anymore..’’ She muttered nervously and looked at me. I sighed and tried to make up my mind. I couldn’t just let her go now. I hadn’t even taught her how to shoot properly yet! ‘’Well we’re going to New York city together, right? I got millions of dollars so we can stay at hotels while driving, then when we get there I’ll start teaching you how to shoot. I’ll start a new gang there’’ I explained rather casually. Y/N looked nonplussed by my words.

‘’Aren’t you going to dump me somewhere?’’ She nearly gasped. It made me laugh at her. ‘’No dummy, you’re with me and I won’t let you go. You know me too well to just walk away’’ I warned her and then sighed deeply. Instead of making her cry, she smiled. ‘’Good. I kinda always found you fascinating Joker’’ Y/N admitted and that’s when her crazy side was peeking through. No sane person would ever find me anything close to good.

Time to start a new ‘evil’ revolution in New York city with someone by my side!

Mecha-Dianite • Part 1

Hey @sparkleybutt and @daddymot
( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

Prompt: Tom finally gets his god powers in s3
(From sparkleybutt’s Tumblr and daddymot’s mind)


Jordan’s P.O.V

To say that we weren’t surprised to see our old home when we left the void would be a lie. We thought we were going to a brand new dimension, not that this one was bad or anything. We just assumed that we were going to Gaines’s home. Ianite and Mianite were ecstatic to see us again. They were even happy to see Tom, weirdly enough. They usually don’t like being around him, because he’s a Dianitee. Maybe they had a change of heart.

We also got to meet our alternates, as well. They were just as Mot described. Spark was a kindly old man, who I immediately became fast friends with. It was probably because we were alternates. Jeriah was uptight and scowly, and Alyssa was bright and cheerful, just like Sonja. We laughed and talked all evening. I noticed that Tom had been staying away from the group, but then again, Tom was antisocial at times. I brushed it off as him just not wanting to talk to anyone at the moment.

Have you told him yet? Ianite’s voice rang through my head.

No, not yet. I replied. Ianite sighed in annoyance.

You’re going to have to tell Tom soon. It’s not healthy to keep these things locked away. She scolded me. I glanced at her and shrugged. There was no good time to tell him in the other world. To much stuff going on to talk about feelings.

As the night wore on, I noticed that Ianite and Mianite were missing. Upon further inspection, I noticed that Tom was missing as well. As I was about to ask the others about this, the three teleported back into the common room. It seemed that no one but me noticed, as the others continued talking happily.

Tom was staring at his hands in hatred, a scowl set on his face. Ianite placed her hand on Toms shoulder and nodded at him. He glanced up at her and I noticed tears in his eyes. He hurried out of the room, bringing his hands up to wipe his face as he left.

“Can I have your attention, please.” Mianite cleared his throat. The room went quiet. “We have some grave news to tell you.” Mianite dramatically paused. “It seems that when Thomas killed Dianite, Dianites powers were transferred to him.” I stare at Mianite in shock. Sure, when we were in Atheioria Tom had joked about being Mecha-Dianite. But he was just trying to lighten the mood…

“A-Are you sure that we can trust him with this. I mean, I am his friend, but what if he goes corrupt like Furia?” Tucker asked, fear lining his voice.

“We will make sure that he doesn’t do anything stupid with his powers. Thought, at first, it may be hard for him to control them.” Ianite said calmly. I shook my head.

“I’m heading out.” I declared as I walked towards the door. “Going to go get some fresh air.”

I wandered out of Decs house, following the path the Wizards had made. Staring at the farms and the scales of justice, I felt a strong wave of sentimental feeling wash over me.

In the distance, I could hear quiet sobbing. I rushed towards the sound. Behind the scales of justice was where I found Tom. He was curled into a ball, with his knees and arms hiding his face.

“Tom?” I asked tentatively. I reached out and placed a hand on his shoulder. “Are you alright?”

“S-Stay a-away from me!” Tom shoved me away. His eyes were bloodshot, and tears streamed down his face.

“Tom I-” I attempted to move closer to him, but he scooted away.

“P-Please! J-Just s-stay away!” He raised his arms over his head and a wall of fire erupted in between us. I jumped back from the flames. “I-I d-don’t wanna hurt you.” He whimpered slightly.

Taking a couple steps back, I prepared myself for what was probably going to be one of the stupidest thing I’d ever do. I raced forward and jumped over the flames. Luckily, I jumped over with no burns at all.

“L-Leave me alone!” Tom shouted, his voice cracking slightly. I ran forward before he had time to react. I grabbed his wrist and pulled him over to me. Tom was shaking horribly. I pulled him into my chest. He tensed up at first, but slowly stared to relax. Tom wrapped his arms around my neck, and my heart fluttered slightly. I traced circles into his back and whispered comforting words into his ear.

Finally, he pulled away. He kept his arms around my neck, only taking one away so he could wipe his face. Tom sniffled slightly.

“T-Thanks for that Sparkly-Dick.” Tom croaked. I stared into his eyes. They seemed to hiding something from me. The usual spark of glee was missing from his eyes.

“Of course.” I said, smiling at his stupid nickname for me. “Let’s get back, I’m sure the others think we’re doing something dirty.” I stood up and brushed myself off. Tom did the same, and grabbed my hand. I squeezed his hand lightly.

“What’re you going to do about that.” I say as I gesture to the wall of flames blocking us. Tom grinned slightly, staring down at his feet. He waved his free hand, and the flames disappeared, leaving only scorched earth behind.

“C'mon Sparklez, let’s get going.” Tom pulled me towards Decs house, where the others were waiting.

In the morning, Tom was gone.

By Your Side - Klaine AU [PG-13]

robustbisexual prompted: meeting on a train au from this post, with dom!kurt and sub!blaine.
D/s society where people are grouped into Doms and subs; (~1,8k / AO3 link)
warning for: demophobia/ochlophobia, people experiencing feelings of panic in crowds. Thanks to my wonderful betas for their help!


Kurt curses when he sees the crowd on the platform. He’d forgotten about that Dom convention festival thing. Outings like this are not really his thing, and he’s weary of the Doms that attend there anyway – they’re always boasting loudly about their latest hook-ups - probably without even asking if their respective sub is okay with them talking about it.

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How Companies Learn Your Secrets

There’s this style of story you find in long form print where these Capitalists, already well-trained in the art of sales, are having problems with a product. A marketer comes along, and after a long research period, they discover the solution as part of a new way to manipulate human habits. Like this one:

Some of the most ambitious habit experiments have been conducted by corporate America. To understand why executives are so entranced by this science, consider how one of the world’s largest companies, Procter & Gamble, used habit insights to turn a failing product into one of its biggest sellers. P.& G. is the corporate behemoth behind a whole range of products, from Downy fabric softener to Bounty paper towels to Duracell batteries and dozens of other household brands. In the mid-1990s, P.& G.’s executives began a secret project to create a new product that could eradicate bad smells. P.& G. spent millions developing a colorless, cheap-to-manufacture liquid that could be sprayed on a smoky blouse, stinky couch, old jacket or stained car interior and make it odorless. In order to market the product — Febreze — the company formed a team that included a former Wall Street mathematician named Drake Stimson and habit specialists, whose job was to make sure the television commercials, which they tested in Phoenix, Salt Lake City and Boise, Idaho, accentuated the product’s cues and rewards just right.

The first ad showed a woman complaining about the smoking section of a restaurant. Whenever she eats there, she says, her jacket smells like smoke. A friend tells her that if she uses Febreze, it will eliminate the odor. The cue in the ad is clear: the harsh smell of cigarette smoke. The reward: odor eliminated from clothes. The second ad featured a woman worrying about her dog, Sophie, who always sits on the couch. “Sophie will always smell like Sophie,” she says, but with Febreze, “now my furniture doesn’t have to.” The ads were put in heavy rotation. Then the marketers sat back, anticipating how they would spend their bonuses. A week passed. Then two. A month. Two months. Sales started small and got smaller. Febreze was a dud.

The panicked marketing team canvassed consumers and conducted in-depth interviews to figure out what was going wrong, Stimson recalled. Their first inkling came when they visited a woman’s home outside Phoenix. The house was clean and organized. She was something of a neat freak, the woman explained. But when P.& G.’s scientists walked into her living room, where her nine cats spent most of their time, the scent was so overpowering that one of them gagged.

According to Stimson, who led the Febreze team, a researcher asked the woman, “What do you do about the cat smell?”

“It’s usually not a problem,” she said.

“Do you smell it now?”

“No,” she said. “Isn’t it wonderful? They hardly smell at all!”

A similar scene played out in dozens of other smelly homes. The reason Febreze wasn’t selling, the marketers realized, was that people couldn’t detect most of the bad smells in their lives. If you live with nine cats, you become desensitized to their scents. If you smoke cigarettes, eventually you don’t smell smoke anymore. Even the strongest odors fade with constant exposure. That’s why Febreze was a failure. The product’s cue — the bad smells that were supposed to trigger daily use — was hidden from the people who needed it the most. And Febreze’s reward (an odorless home) was meaningless to someone who couldn’t smell offensive scents in the first place.

P.& G. employed a Harvard Business School professor to analyze Febreze’s ad campaigns. They collected hours of footage of people cleaning their homes and watched tape after tape, looking for clues that might help them connect Febreze to people’s daily habits. When that didn’t reveal anything, they went into the field and conducted more interviews. A breakthrough came when they visited a woman in a suburb near Scottsdale, Ariz., who was in her 40s with four children. Her house was clean, though not compulsively tidy, and didn’t appear to have any odor problems; there were no pets or smokers. To the surprise of everyone, she loved Febreze.

“I use it every day,” she said.

“What smells are you trying to get rid of?” a researcher asked.

“I don’t really use it for specific smells,” the woman said. “I use it for normal cleaning — a couple of sprays when I’m done in a room.”

The researchers followed her around as she tidied the house. In the bedroom, she made her bed, tightened the sheet’s corners, then sprayed the comforter with Febreze. In the living room, she vacuumed, picked up the children’s shoes, straightened the coffee table, then sprayed Febreze on the freshly cleaned carpet.

“It’s nice, you know?” she said. “Spraying feels like a little minicelebration when I’m done with a room.” At the rate she was going, the team estimated, she would empty a bottle of Febreze every two weeks.

When they got back to P.& G.’s headquarters, the researchers watched their videotapes again. Now they knew what to look for and saw their mistake in scene after scene. Cleaning has its own habit loops that already exist. In one video, when a woman walked into a dirty room (cue), she started sweeping and picking up toys (routine), then she examined the room and smiled when she was done (reward). In another, a woman scowled at her unmade bed (cue), proceeded to straighten the blankets and comforter (routine) and then sighed as she ran her hands over the freshly plumped pillows (reward). P.& G. had been trying to create a whole new habit with Febreze, but what they really needed to do was piggyback on habit loops that were already in place. The marketers needed to position Febreze as something that came at the end of the cleaning ritual, the reward, rather than as a whole new cleaning routine.

The company printed new ads showing open windows and gusts of fresh air. More perfume was added to the Febreze formula, so that instead of merely neutralizing odors, the spray had its own distinct scent. Television commercials were filmed of women, having finished their cleaning routine, using Febreze to spritz freshly made beds and just-laundered clothing. Each ad was designed to appeal to the habit loop: when you see a freshly cleaned room (cue), pull out Febreze (routine) and enjoy a smell that says you’ve done a great job (reward). When you finish making a bed (cue), spritz Febreze (routine) and breathe a sweet, contented sigh (reward). Febreze, the ads implied, was a pleasant treat, not a reminder that your home stinks.

And so Febreze, a product originally conceived as a revolutionary way to destroy odors, became an air freshener used once things are already clean. The Febreze revamp occurred in the summer of 1998. Within two months, sales doubled. A year later, the product brought in $230 million. Since then Febreze has spawned dozens of spinoffs — air fresheners, candles and laundry detergents — that now account for sales of more than $1 billion a year. Eventually, P.& G. began mentioning to customers that, in addition to smelling sweet, Febreze can actually kill bad odors. Today it’s one of the top-selling products in the world.

Wow, behavioral science, amirite? Now I’m going to live my life just a little bit more timorously, in even greater fear of the many ways Capitalism is marketing things to me, dulling my enthusiasm for nearly everything in a contrarian effort to just not do what they want. 

Consumers going through major life events often don’t notice, or care, that their shopping habits have shifted, but retailers notice, and they care quite a bit. At those unique moments, Andreasen wrote, customers are “vulnerable to intervention by marketers.” In other words, a precisely timed advertisement, sent to a recent divorcee or new homebuyer, can change someone’s shopping patterns for years.

And among life events, none are more important than the arrival of a baby. At that moment, new parents’ habits are more flexible than at almost any other time in their adult lives. If companies can identify pregnant shoppers, they can earn millions.

The only problem is that identifying pregnant customers is harder than it sounds. Target has a baby-shower registry, and Pole started there, observing how shopping habits changed as a woman approached her due date, which women on the registry had willingly disclosed. He ran test after test, analyzing the data, and before long some useful patterns emerged. Lotions, for example. Lots of people buy lotion, but one of Pole’s colleagues noticed that women on the baby registry were buying larger quantities of unscented lotion around the beginning of their second trimester. Another analyst noted that sometime in the first 20 weeks, pregnant women loaded up on supplements like calcium, magnesium and zinc. Many shoppers purchase soap and cotton balls, but when someone suddenly starts buying lots of scent-free soap and extra-big bags of cotton balls, in addition to hand sanitizers and washcloths, it signals they could be getting close to their delivery date.

As Pole’s computers crawled through the data, he was able to identify about 25 products that, when analyzed together, allowed him to assign each shopper a “pregnancy prediction” score. More important, he could also estimate her due date to within a small window, so Target could send coupons timed to very specific stages of her pregnancy.

One Target employee I spoke to provided a hypothetical example. Take a fictional Target shopper named Jenny Ward, who is 23, lives in Atlanta and in March bought cocoa-butter lotion, a purse large enough to double as a diaper bag, zinc and magnesium supplements and a bright blue rug. There’s, say, an 87 percent chance that she’s pregnant and that her delivery date is sometime in late August. What’s more, because of the data attached to her Guest ID number, Target knows how to trigger Jenny’s habits. They know that if she receives a coupon via e-mail, it will most likely cue her to buy online. They know that if she receives an ad in the mail on Friday, she frequently uses it on a weekend trip to the store. And they know that if they reward her with a printed receipt that entitles her to a free cup of Starbucks coffee, she’ll use it when she comes back again.

In the past, that knowledge had limited value. After all, Jenny purchased only cleaning supplies at Target, and there were only so many psychological buttons the company could push. But now that she is pregnant, everything is up for grabs. In addition to triggering Jenny’s habits to buy more cleaning products, they can also start including offers for an array of products, some more obvious than others, that a woman at her stage of pregnancy might need.

Pole applied his program to every regular female shopper in Target’s national database and soon had a list of tens of thousands of women who were most likely pregnant. If they could entice those women or their husbands to visit Target and buy baby-related products, the company’s cue-routine-reward calculators could kick in and start pushing them to buy groceries, bathing suits, toys and clothing, as well. When Pole shared his list with the marketers, he said, they were ecstatic. Soon, Pole was getting invited to meetings above his paygrade. Eventually his paygrade went up.

At which point someone asked an important question: How are women going to react when they figure out how much Target knows?

“If we send someone a catalog and say, ‘Congratulations on your first child!’ and they’ve never told us they’re pregnant, that’s going to make some people uncomfortable,” Pole told me. “We are very conservative about compliance with all privacy laws. But even if you’re following the law, you can do things where people get queasy.”

About a year after Pole created his pregnancy-prediction model, a man walked into a Target outside Minneapolis and demanded to see the manager. He was clutching coupons that had been sent to his daughter, and he was angry, according to an employee who participated in the conversation.

“My daughter got this in the mail!” he said. “She’s still in high school, and you’re sending her coupons for baby clothes and cribs? Are you trying to encourage her to get pregnant?”

The manager didn’t have any idea what the man was talking about. He looked at the mailer. Sure enough, it was addressed to the man’s daughter and contained advertisements for maternity clothing, nursery furniture and pictures of smiling infants. The manager apologized and then called a few days later to apologize again.

On the phone, though, the father was somewhat abashed. “I had a talk with my daughter,” he said. “It turns out there’s been some activities in my house I haven’t been completely aware of. She’s due in August. I owe you an apology.”

Cashier: Would you like to sign up for our whatever point card?

Me: *nervously* Oh no, thanks, those things are just dangled as rewards for giving the company personal information that can be used to track nearly every facet of your life in the hopes of better manipulating your every action. Have a pleasant day!

Sasuke and Sakura: Behind Closed Doors.

At this point, I’m seriously convinced that Sasuke and Sakura are actually quite a kinky couple behind closed doors, there’s just so much evidence for it. (Please don’t take this too seriously! :P)

When Sarada asked Sakura if she and Sasuke had ever kissed, Sakura thought of something that for her, was even better than a kiss. Just look at how horny she looked whilst thinking of it too! :P

Look at that blush! And what was that special something that for her was even better than a kiss?

In other words, the act of Sasuke’s fingers touching her body :D She must really enjoy Sasuke’s “handiwork” if she considers it more enjoyable than kissing XD And Sarada, being the perceptive little Uchiha that she is, was onto her mother’s dirty little mind immediately:

But of course Sakura denies it :P But really, who can blame her for having such thoughts? We’ve all seen how good Sasuke is with his hands:

And no doubt Sakura likes what she sees, and probably loves imagining all the creative ways that Sasuke can put those skilled hands/fingers to good use!

That’s probably the lustful face she pulls whilst imagining all the ways Sasuke will use those glorious hands in all the right places, whilst she dominates him in bed. But Sakura isn’t the only guilty one here! Nope, Sasuke has shown multiple times that he actually likes her dominant side, and absolutely loves it when Sakura enters badass mode and goes all smashy smashy. 

This act had the entire allied ninja forces shaking in awe and fear after Sakura demonstrated her monstrous power, but Sasuke:

I mean, look at how he watches her when she smashes the ground like that, look at those eyes, look at that smirk! That’s a smirk of arousal plain and simple! He liked it in more ways than one :P

But if that wasn’t enough incriminating evidence of his sexual fetishes, 

Look at those beads of sweat on Sasuke’s face when his wife makes that epic entrance, and easily knocks out the guys that had been causing both him and Naruto problems. He’s getting hot, he’s perspiring, his body temperature rises whilst observing Sakura kicking ass :P And you know what makes it better? The fact that she’s kicking ass on his and their daughter’s behalf. That makes it so much better! XD

And then, when someone has the audacity to imply that his wife can’t take care of herself, he immediately sets them straight!

I bet he’s having fun thinking of all the ways in which Sakura would likely be smashing Shin’s Sharingan-infested face to pieces.

I can just imagine how the conversation between the two of them must have gone, when they found out about each other’s kinky fetishes. Sakura would likely be more open and comfortable about sharing her desires because she’s always been better at expressing her feelings. Sasuke on the other hand, would likely have more trouble admitting it, so he’d struggle and say: 

But Sakura needs no justification; she understands, and she likes it! :D

The Green Couch

This is especially for my fellow Omelia AFans. Special shoutout goes to Ani @beafreaklikeme2 for her idea of Omelia having a domestic argument over a green chair. Except I changed it to a green couch. :p Enjoy!

It was Amelia’s third day back at work after the honeymoon. She had a rough day at work- a 35 year old mother of 2 died on her operating table despite her uttermost efforts to save her. Although she knew it wasn’t her fault - as the woman died of a sudden Berry aneurysm rupture-she couldn’t help but blame herself for the death of her patient.

Now all she wanted was to get home to a comfy bed , a nice home cooked meal and of course her new husband- her kind, caring and loving husband.

She had repeatedly been told that real life as husband and wife only starts after the honeymoon period. So far though, after 2 weeks of being married to Owen- she was still in a honeymoon bliss. They would meet up with each other after work - and go out to a nearby restaurant or cook a fancy meal together. Then they would cuddle on the living room couch or on their bed and half watch a sappy romantic movie together. But really, for the first time in her life- Amelia felt like she was in heaven on earth.

Today however, she was abruptly jolted back to reality the moment she stepped into their home. The lights were on- indicating Owen was at home. But what bothered her more than the fact that the lights in the entire house were on- was the fact that the entire living room was in a mess. Apparently Owen had removed his shirt and socks as soon as he stepped into the house- his dirty shirt was hanging on the couch and his socks were strewn on the floor. She spotted a huge overflowing basket of unwashed laundry beside the TV. What ticked her off the most was the sight of Owen lying on the couch, his eyes glued to the TV set, where a soccer match was playing.

Amelia was having none of this. Usually she wouldn’t mind the sight that greeted her- but today had been hell. All she wanted was to come back to a clean and comfortable home to relax and unwind and a hot meal and a shower. But apparently her dear husband had other plans for her.
To top it off- her pregnancy hormones and the constant feeling of being dizzy and lethargic had been taking its toll on her.

Sighing heavily, she stormed into the living room.

’ Well- hello there.’ Owen greeted her from the couch with a hint of amusement in his voice.

The grin that he was wearing quickly faded when he saw her solemn and serious expression. He knew her well enough to know when she was in a good mood and when she wasn’t. And judging from her current expression- she certainly wasn’t in a good mood.

’ You ok Amelia?’ he asked cautiously.

’ Yes- well no- I’m not ok.’ she answered monotonously.

’ Why? Did you have a bad day at work?’ Owen asked, concerned.

’ Yes, my patient died.’ she replied. ’ My patient died and there was nothing I could do to save her.’

’ I’m sure you did your best Amelia.’ Owen comforted her. ’ Sometimes there’s nothing much you can do.’

’ That’s not my main point!’ Amelia cried . ’ My point is- I had a terrible day at work- and yet I’ve to come back to all this mess.’ she added- gesturing wildly at the pile of unwashed laundry and Owen’s shirt and socks. ’ All I wanted was to come home to a clean house. You came home earlier than me today Owen- the least you could do was to throw your shirt and socks into that growing pile of laundry!’

’ I just came home from work about an hour ago . I also had a tiring day at work and wanted to rest too!’ Owen didn’t mean to raise his voice at his new wife..but judging from the way she walked over quietly to pick up the shirt and socks- he knew she had been dealt a blow.

He immediately felt guilty about screaming at her.

’ I’m so sorry Amelia.’ he said sheepishly. ’ I didn’t mean to raise my voice at you.’

He half expected her to yell at him about not being deserving of her forgiveness, but instead she flopped down on the couch beside him.

’ If you yell at me one more time, I’ll chase you out of the house.’ she said, with a serious tone in her voice. However the slight wink in her eye told Owen that he was forgiven at least for the moment.

Owen huddled close to her and pulled her tight.

’ No you wouldn’t’ . he chuckled.

Amelia pouted and punched Owen playfully on his chest.

’ Try me’ she teased.

Suddenly her facial expression changed again.

‘Owen’ she said in a serious tone.

’ Yes dear?’ Owen answered.

’ I thought I told you to change this couch to a nicer color?’ Amelia asked.

’ Well- I didn’t have time to change it yet.’ Owen admitted sheepishly.

Amelia punched him hard on the arm again.

’ Why not?’ she asked.

’ Amelia- you know that I didn’t have time to go to the furniture shop yet since we returned from our honeymoon.’ Owen reasoned. ’ I’ve been working the whole day too.’

’ Well, you better find the time to do so- because you know that I hate green.’ Amelia pouted. ’ A green couch doesn’t suit the design of this room.’

’ What color do you want then?’ Owen asked.

’ Hmm… Let’s see.’ Amelia placed her hands under her chin, pursing her lips in concentration. Owen had to admit that she looked so adorable like that .

’ Ah ha- I know…. How about red?’ Amelia suggested. ’ It’s a striking color and it matches the black carpet.’

’ Uhh…. I’m not so sure about red.’ Owen argued. ’ It’s too striking a color for me.’

Amelia threw her hands up in the air in defeat.

’ Well- if we both can’t agree on a simple thing like the color of the couch- how can we agree on bigger things?’ she asked in exasperation.

’ Well- I think we both can agree on something right now.’ said Owen winking as he drew closer to Amelia and pressed her against his chest - giving her a passionate kiss on the lips.

Amelia tried to resist his advance at first- still being mad at him about the color of the couch. But her anger was soon forgotten as his hands moved slowly down her waist, down to her still flat stomach, rubbing it. Their hands met on the spot where their baby was safely growing inside as they shared another passionate kiss.

The color of the couch, dinner and laundry were forgotten as they christened the couch that night.

As usual- reblogs, comments and reviews are very much appreciated. Please do let me know what you guys think!! :)

Straight. CH.

Description: The reader is bisexual and tells her parents.

Y/N knew from a young age that she wasn’t straight. She would often find herself mesmerised by a girl in her year, but she’d also have a massive crush on a boy. She knew that she wanted to go out with females, but with males also.

Someone who long before knew Y/N was bisexual was her best friend Calum Hood. He often caught her staring at girl’s in their classes with awe and biting her lip. He noticed everything. He noticed how she would bite her lip or daydream when staring at girls, but he also noticed the way she admired boys from afar too. He knew that she was bisexual as soon as he met her in Year 7.

Y/N didn’t come to terms with her sexuality until she was in year 9, the year Calum asked her out. She agreed, considering that Calum had been her crush for quite some time. Who would’ve known that they would stayed together for so long.

Y/N sat in front of her parents. They weren’t homophobic in anyway, but like most they didn’t quite grasp the concept that someone could like both genders. They thought that you’d either be straight or gay, there was no in between in their eyes. It took her years to finally pluck up the courage to tell them and here she was.

“Mum, Dad - I’m bisexual. I like both girls and boys.” Y/N announced, watching her parents reactions closely. Her mother gasped and put her hand over her mouth. Her father’s eyes went large.

“B - but you’re dating Calum. You’re straight. I don’t understand.”

“Just because I’m dating Calum doesn’t mean that I am not attracted both physically and mentally to girls.”

“Why can’t you just make up your mind and like just one gender? Not both!” Her father hissed. His whole thoughts on the conversation revealing in an instant. He almost seemed disgusted that she didn’t like just one gender. p>

Y/N shook her head in disgust. She stood up and grabbed her bag, that she had pre-packed in case this happened. She flipped her parents off, before storming out the door and out of the house. She climbed onto her bike and flung her backpack onto her back. She quickly turned the peddles and went to the only place she felt safe. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she cycled to him. The rain fell heavily, but she didn’t stop.

She jumped off her bike and pressed it against the back gate. She walked to the front of the house and knocked on the door.

A few moments later, a sleepy Calum opened the door. His eyes squinted, his hair curly and messy, his eyes slightly red. He noticed the tears cascading down her face and her soaking wet hair and clothes. He embraced her in a tight hug. He rocked her back and forth in his arms whilst whispering sweet nothings into her ear.

They curled up on his bed, face to face. Y/N’s tears had long dried and she was left feeling slightly numb. Calum and her stripped to their underwear, considering that Y/N’s clothes were drenched from the rain. As were the clothes in her bag.

“Would you make me straight if you could, Cal?” Y/N asked breaking the heavy yet comfortable silence that surrounded them.

“Never. I wouldn’t change anything about you for the world. Also, it’s kinda cool that you’re into girls too. We can talk about boobs and stuff together.”

Y/N chuckled and snuggled into his chest. She wrapped her arms around his neck and he placed his hands on her waist. As long as Calum accepted her, she was okay.

TITLE: Worth It


AUTHOR: r0ryy 

ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine one night Loki has a horrible nightmare about the torture he went through from Thanos. You wake up shortly after him, and ask him what is wrong. He doesn’t speak, instead he begins crying…

RATING: M, for triggering material. 

NOTES/WARNINGS: It took forever but I HAD to do a fill for this one! I used my very favorite OC and I make no apologies for her. Meg is bae. 
TRIGGER WARNINGS LIKE WOAH. Refrences to past rape/torture/abuse but it’s non-graphic. PTSD and what basically amounts to a panic attack/sob fest for Loki. 
If anyone knows the myth of Laevateinn/Leviathan, that’s the sword in the story. How Meg acquired it is a much longer tale that could eventually get written if anyone shows interest in this. There may be a part two or more if you guys wants to hear Loki and Meg’s backstory. I’ll warn you, it’s a hefty one. And if someone doesn’t personally message me about writing it then there’s a 99% chance it won’t happen. 
All that aside, please enjoy! :)
Ergi/Argr definition x

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pilferingapples  asked:

Feuilly, and Coming Home? (happytimes please I need happytimes)

can do happytimes! :D

Five times Feuilly came home; and one time he didn’t, but it was okay


It’s small, and dusty, and the one window is too dirty to see the street below; the austere beige that covers the room is discoloured in places, and there’s a draft coming from under the door. The walls are paper thin, and the neighbours aren’t quiet.

But there’s also a bed in the corner of the room, which is miles better than the haystack of a mattress Feuilly had been sleeping on at the workshop; a little table, a chest to put his clothes in, a cupboard for bread and cheese and bowls, and a small but serviceable stove. It’s not too far from the workshop, but far enough not to encounter coworkers when he doesn’t want to. The drafty door has a lock, and the landlady, a Mme. Jackowska, has a kind and warm smile.

All in all, it seems to be a better place than anything Feuilly has ever lived in - and most importantly, it’shis.

“Home,” Feuilly whispers. He sets his bag on the bed, and looks around. He doesn’t quite feel it, not yet - perhaps he could hang some curtains on the window, find a little rug to place near the bed - but in his fifteen years, it’s the first time he is anywhere close to having a home to himself, and he smiles.

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Opposites attract pt.2

A/N: this was requested and I honestly just hope you guys like it. I kinda ran outta ideas.

Prom night. The night you had been dreading and at the same time looking forward to for the past two weeks.

As you got ready, you had that pit in your stomach. It wasn’t that you were nervous to be with Michael. You guys had basically spent all of your time together. It was the fact that you’d be interacting with more than just Michael.

You finished pinning the last strand of your curled hair back. Your look was completed; a form fitting navy dress with a cinched waist and a sweat heart neck line.You were confident in the way you looked and Luke’s bitch of a girlfriend even thought you looked stunning. You just hoped Michael would like it.

“(y/n), Michael is here!” your mother yelled to you from downstairs. Your heart pounded in your chest as you took one last gaze in the mirror. Calm down, (y/n), you’ll be fine.

As you walked down the hard wood stairs, your mother, father, and Michael all stared at you in awe. Your dad had tears brimming in his eyes because he didn’t want to let his princess go and your mom was emotional about pretty much everything. Michael did a double take on you, checking you out from your silver shoes all the way to your brown eyes.

“Awe my little baby looks adorable,” your mom gushed once you made it down the stairs.

“Sweet heart, you look lovely,” you dad complimented giving you a quick hug.

“Wow,” Michael managed to get out, still staring at your beauty. He saw the gorgeousness in you that you just didn’t see, and you never would see.

“Thanks guys,” you chuckled.

Finally, your mom had finished taking her millions of pictures to “capture the memories”. Michael and you walked outside to leave.

“You got us a limo?” you screeched excitedly when you saw it parked at the end of your driveway.

“It’s nothing, I just wanted you to have the perfect night.” he smiled

“It’s already perfect because I’m with you,” you flirted. Michael held the door open to the limo for you and you got in with him following you.

You were minutes away from school and you started feeling nervous again. Your breathing was uneasy, your stomach had knots in it, and you couldn’t sit still. “You alright?” Michael asked as you shifted in your seat again.

“Y-yeah,” you replied. “I’m fine,” you added with more confidence.

“Don’t lie to me. I can tell when your anxiety kicks in. You’ll be fine,” he assured you. He grabbed your small hand in his. You looked into his eyes and he was already staring at you. A small smile crept onto your face as you tried to hide the butterflies he gave you.

“We’re here, beautiful,” he broke the stare between you two.

Michael got out of the car first and insisted on helping you out of the limo. Even after you had gotten out, he didn’t take his arm away from around your waist.

You tried to steady your breath, using the tricks your therapist had taught you. Breathe in through the nose and out through the mouth. You repeated the exercise several times. Your jagged breaths were now semi under control.

C’mon (y/n), don’t fuck this prom up.

“Ready?” he asked as you two waited outside the schools doors. You squeezed his hand tighter than nodded. Michael, being the gentleman he was, opened the door for you and waited to follow behind you.

You two walked side-by-side into the auditorium. You instantly grabbed his hand for comfort as he opened the set of doors where the wild teenagers were.

The fairy lights, banner, and decorations went perfectly together. They reenacted the theme you were going for perfectly; a night in Paris.

“(y/n), what you did here is totally awesome,” Michael smiled at you.

“Thanks,” you replied. He took your hand and lead you into the crowd.

You pushed past skanky girls and sweaty boys to get to your assigned table. Maybe prom wasn’t so bad. You’d been going unnoticed so far.

“Michael, come dance with us,” Candice, his ex, screeched in her obnoxious voice. She knew you were with Michael and relying on him to keep you company. She made sure to give you a dirty look while she flirted with Michael. You’d hated her since year 7 when she spread rumors about Luke giving you an STD. That’s actually how you and Luke became friends. Regardless, she was a bitch.

Michael turned to you looking for approval to go dance with her. He didn’t even have to ask, you could tell by the look in his eye. Besides, what guys would pass up an opportunity to dance with her?

“Its fine if you wanna go dance with her,” you quietly told him. Even though that was far from the truth, you wouldn’t hold him back from having fun. It was his night too.

“You sure?” he hesitantly asked.

“Yeah, whats the harm in one dance with her?” you answered. But once he left, one dance turned into ten.

10 songs, almost an hour, of you sitting alone at the table. Occasionally, people would pass and give you a small sympathetic smile or wave a little. Who wouldn’t feel bad for the freak sitting alone?

The song selection went from heavy beat drops to slow in an instant. Everyone coupled up with their dates to get on the dance floor and slow dance, but your date was preoccupied. Coming with Michael was a mistake. He ditched you for his popular friends 5 minutes in. You grabbed your clutch from the table and began walking out. You doubted Michael would even notice.

As you were about to reach the doors of the gym a raspy voice called out to you. You chose to ignore it, but eventually the boy who that raspy voice belonged to, caught up with you. “(y/n) what’s wrong?” Michael asked you. He gently grabbed your wrist and pulled you around so you’d be facing him.

“Nothing,” you mumbled.

“Is it what happened back there with Candice?” he questioned, not believing your lie one bit.

“Nope,” you said popping the “p”.

“Then what is it?” he yelled over the loud rap song that just started playing.

“Nothing is wrong!” you spat. You turned to walk away, but the principals voice on the microphone instructed everyone to listen up.

“Its the time you’ve all been waiting for. It’s time to announce this years prom king and queen. As some of you know, we received many votes and nominations, but we can only have one winner. No hard feelings for those of you who weren’t chosen,” Miss Springer’s annoyingly high-pitched voice said.

“Our top three boys nominations are Michael Clifford, Harold Styles, and Louis Tomlinson,” the principal announced as the crowd cheered every time a name was announced.

“The top three girl nominations were Candice Summers, Britney Johnson, and a last minute write in by Michael Clifford, (Y/n) (y/l/n),” she finished. Everyone cheered for every name that was announced except for yours. The crowd went silent as all eyes were on you. You felt like running out, but that’d just draw more attention to you. Your chest and throat tightened as you looked at Michael for some type of way to calm you down. He just shook his head, probably still upset about the previous “argument”.

“Our prom king and queen are…… Michael and (y/n),” she over enthusiastically said. Michael jogged his way through the crowd, claiming his spot on stage. You slowly dodged your way through people to get to Michael. You were halfway to the stage and you’d already regretted not running out of this place. You knew it was a tradition for the queen to give a speech. You had absolutely no clue what you would do. You could barely speak in front of 5 teachers, let alone the whole class of 2015.

You made your way to the stage peacefully. You tried hiding your shyness behind a fake smile, but it wasn’t very believable.

“Great job, (y/n),” Candice smirked. She knew exactly what she was doing to you, come to think of it, Michael probably did too. That must’ve been why he asked you; he’d get you the votes to win and watch you embarrass yourself in front of everyone.

Candice placed the crown on top of your head. Michael quietly walked over to where you stood and stage and grabbed your hand. You squeezed his for comfort and looked up at him, but his attention was on Candice and her skimpy dress.

“(y/n) please say a few words,” Candice smiled at you, handing you the microphone. You took it into your sweaty palm, and braced yourself for the horrid speech you were about to try and give.

You held the microphone up to your lips and let out a nervous short breath. “I… erm,” you began, but nothing came out. “I-i” you started again, but you couldn’t speak. Frozen in place in front of the school.

“Something wrong?” Candice whispered to you. She let out an obnoxious giggle before turning back to her friends.

You’d had enough. You quickly walked down the stage steps. You didn’t want to cry in front of everyone, but you just couldn’t take the pressure. The crowd split as you pushed through the people, trying to find an exit.

You found yourself sitting alone in the courtyard. Of course Michael didn’t try to find you. He never really liked you. This was all part of his plan. You silently cried to yourself with your head in your hands. Not only had you made a fool of yourself, but you lost all hope that maybe what you and Michael had was real.

“(y/n),” Michael whispered to you. He was out of breath as he came running from inside the school. He sounded relieved that he found you, but you wish he hadn’t even bothered to look. “What’s wrong?” he asked confused. You stood up from the ground, brushing your hands off on your dress.

“Whats wrong, Michael? You tell me. Could it be that I literally froze on stage or the fact that my date only brought me here to embarrass me or maybe, it could be you drooling over your ex in front of my face? Hmmm, maybe its all of them,” you sarcastically replied. You’d never lashed out on some one like this.

“Your being ridiculous,” he reasoned grabbing your wrist gently and pulling you towards him. You pulled your hand back and scoffed. “Me and Candice never will be a thing. She cheated on me!” he explained.

“That’s not the point,” you remarked.

“Then what is?” he asked.

“I know you only brought me here because you were setting me up. You nominated me for prom queen because you knew I’d lose my shit on stage,” you answered.

“I assure you, I’d never do that. I don’t know why your thinking so deep into this” he told you.

“I also I thought you’d never ask me to prom and here we are,” you yelled, a bitter tone in your voice.

“So you think I brought you here just to make a fool of you?” he asked. You nodded your head confidently.

“Oh, baby. You’ve got it all wrong. I nominated you because everybody deserves something special in their life time. I wanted to make you feel good about yourself,” he genuinely said.

“Even if you brought me here because you actually like me, we don’t belong. We’re practically from two different worlds,” you reasoned.

“You think I give a shit?” he sarcastically said. “Do you believe that I actually wanted to come here with you, or not?” he asked. You could here the sincerity in his voice.

You sighed, realizing how dumb you must’ve sounded to him. “I don’t know right now,” you said.

“I should’ve asked you about that prom queen thing.” he said more to himself than to you. He let out a groan of annoyance and anger. He continued to pace back and forth in the court yard while running his hands though his hair.

“Michael,” your small voice said.

“Hmm,” he replied, still angry at himself.

“I believe you,” you told him. His face lit up with a smile as soon as you said the words.
“Can we just go back to mine and cuddle?” you asked with puppy dog eyes.

“If it’ll make you happy,” he sighed. You took your hand in his and started walking, gently swinging your connected hands back and forth.

“(y/n),” Michael said.

“Yeah,” you answered as you walked out of the school parking lot.

“I’d never set the girl I love up like that. I hope you know that,” he smiled.

You stopped walking trying to process what he just said. “Yo-you love me?” you happily asked him.

He turned toward you with a cute smile on his face. “Y-yeah, I do. You know what they say, opposites attract.”