but look what you get out of the deal

Coffee Shop AUs I need as someone who works in a coffee shop

AUs where both of them are baristas:

  • AU where business is really slow so Person A and Person B start doodling on the hot sleeves for the cups and compete to see whose doodles the customers like better and then A starts doodling on B like hearts or some cute shit

  • The new manager (Person C) is an Asshole and is making them scrub the floor with bleach (been there, done that, it sucks) and they bond over complaining about C
  • Dealing !!! with annoying customers!!!! And standing up for each other/bonding over the assholes! Example annoying customers from my experience as a barista:
    • That customer who orders a cappuccino not knowing what it is and then getting upset when its not a latte (u baristas out there feel me)
    • when you run out of somehthing (like cold brew or the sodas in the cooler)  and they ask you to look in the back and then throw a fit bc they don’t get what they want (this happened to me once, a grown ass man threw a tantrum bc we didn’t have milk for his goddam cookies tf)
    • when you make them wait for more than two seconds to take their order/ make their drink and they get pissy
    • when its slow and the customer watches you make the drink and start making comments like bitch let me do mmy job
  • Person A and B don’t normally work the same shift but A is covering for C and goddam, B is fucking cute
  • when there’s a rush and the cafe is understaffed so its just A and B and they have to work together to make like seventeen drinks and personal space stops existing bc you gotta get those drinks made ASAP ( I can’t count the amount of times my coworkers and i have been all up in each other;s space trying to work around each other to make drinks). Bonus points if A is already pining for B and is getting flustered about close quarters. Extra bonus points if B notices and starts being a llittle shit about it and gets even more in A’s space ;)))
  • bonding over making fun of ridiculously specific drink orders (not until the customer is gone tho don’t be rude)
  • A is new and B teaches them how to make drinks and shows them the ropes and maybe starts flirting bc the newbie is a hottie ;)
  • when the rest of their coworkers + manager ship it
  • When regular customer (Person C) comes in and makes chit chat and assumes A and B are dating and one (or both) get flustered
  • CLOSING TOGETHER AND BEING ABANDONED BY THEIR COWORKERS TO CLEAN THE FUCKKNG DISHES AND IT TAKES FOREVER AND THEY BOND OVER THE FACT THAT THEIR COWORKERS ARE ASSHOLES WHO LEFT THEM ALL THE CLEANING TO DO
  • I need more coffee shops AUswhere theyre both baristas @ fanfic writers pls
On the concept of Soulmate AUs

You know what I’m tired of? Soulmate AUs with the protagonist/antagonist ship as the main pairing that always has the villain who reacts the best to the situation, and the hero freaking out.

What I want to see is a hero who gets it, who understands that yeah, their soulmate may kind of be a murdering psychopath, but that’s cool, they can deal with that, they can live through it, but what’s not cool is them totally looking the other way and avoiding the hell out of them.

Give me the realisation that they’re soulmates in the middle of a fight, when they’re bloody and bruised and tired and they just slip, skin on skin contact, and then the whole world just shifts into place.

“This can’t be happening.”

“Have you every heard of opposites attract?”

“I’m going to kill you.”

“But- Okay, yeah, we’re doing this.”

Give me a brutal fight that ends with a “Since when do my attacks hurt this much?” and the villain slowly realising that they can’t kill themselves out of this situation, that they can’t escape this because they’re soul bonded to a kid with a hero complex who is constantly trying to thwart them and is now for some reason grinning at them like a lunatic because they supposedly belong together. And damn does suddenly being able to feel emotions and pain that wasn’t his sting, because he has enough shit to deal with on his own without the added pressure, thanks.

Give me snarky comments and miniature fights in the middle of the night when the hero catches the antagonist coming back from who knows where, bloody and in pain and maybe a little too bust up, to say they won the fight.

“You usually look happier to see me.”

“You killed someone this morning.”

“What gave it away?”

“You mean besides the fact that you’re covered in blood and I felt every moment of it?”

Give me the villain slowly getting used to the idea that hey, they’re sort of going to have to put up with this little ray of sunshine for a while even though he kind of hates his guts and wants to kill him, but also give me the villain wondering what they ever did to deserve this. What could they possibly have done that was so great, so obscenely terrifyingly amazing that they could be soul bonded to a person like this, someone so innocent and righteous and downright beautiful that half of it seems like a mad dream?

“Not every bad guy has a tragic past.”

“But you do. I’ve seen it.”

“I’m going to punch you.”

“That would be counterproductive to what we’re doing here.”

“…”

“That hurt you as much as it hurt me.”

“Worth it.”

Give me tempers flaring and bristling arguments and the hero getting so tired, but still carrying on, not because they think that there’s some good in the antagonist or because they think they can change them, but because this is their soulmate, the person that the fates chose for him, his other half, someone that he had to protect and look after and love, because if not him, then who else was going to?

“I am going to hurt you. I’m going to rip out your intestines and strangle you with them.”

“You’ve been pretty good today. That’s three less death threats than yesterday.”

“Prepare to have your balls removed with a butcher’s knife and shoved down your throat, asshole.”

“I’m still counting this as progress.”

Give me the antagonist not realising the reality that this isn’t someone who wants something from him, who wants to change him, use him, abuse him, but rather someone who just wants to be with him, love him. Give me an antagonist who can’t understand the concept that somebody might actually care.

“I thought this was what you wanted! The sex, the cuddling, the stupid hand-holding. What more could you want from me?”

“I don’t want anything from you.”

“Yes you do. They always do! Just tell me what you want and you can have it. Just leave me alone, please. I can’t take this anymore.”

“I want you to trust me, to believe me when I say that I love you.”

“You’re only saying that because of the bond.”

“No, I’m not. I’ve seen everything that you have, felt what you feel, heard what you’ve heard. Maybe at first, a little, it was just because of the bond, but then I fell in love with you, the real you, the one behind all the fronts that you put up.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“I didn’t expect you too, but you will, one day. I’m not giving up on you.”

Give me the hero facing shit from their friends and family, because they don’t understand why they’re trying so hard and putting up with so much shit, even though he’s his soulmate, but the hero just shrugging and smiling because they get it, and it doesn’t matter if everyone else doesn’t.

“He threatens to brutally mutilate you constantly.”

“I like to believe it’s how he expresses his affections.”

“He tried to kill you so many times.”

“There was only the once after we found out about the bond, though.”

“You’re making excuses now.”

“It’s just that there’s so much anger in him, all of the time. I don’t know how anyone could live like that. I want to help him.”

“You’re going to get yourself killed.”

“That’s not my biggest concern anymore. He is.”

Give me a hero who tries so, so hard, and a villain who, despite everything, slowly gives in. Give me quiet nights laid in bed or watching the stars, no words and only their hands touching, just the sensation of palm against palm enough. Give me heated arguments, rage, unsteady headiness at the realisation that they’re not going to leave each other, no matter what happens.

Give me a soulmate AU where the hero doesn’t react badly, isn’t scared or hateful that their soulmate is their arch nemesis, the big bad guy, the villain they can never seem to get rid of, because really they should have expected that all along. Because no one hates that much without there being a little something more behind it.

What if..

The paladins are fighting Haggar again, and she takes over Lance’s mind, showing him his worst fears, and the others can see what’s happening because of the mind link.
Haggar makes his biggest fears come true: that the team doesn’t respect or care about him.
Shiro, whom he looks up to, doesn’t give him a second glance and snaps at him for literally everything he does. He never gives praise when it’s deserved, he never says “good job” or “you’re doing great” as he does to literally every other paladin.
Keith is seen as the hero and never credits Lance for his ideas, making the other paladins believe he is greater than him and that lance needs to step it up.
Pidge snaps at him because of his brotherly teasing, and doesn’t even acknowledge him being there.
Hunk forgets about him and becomes closer to the others, leaving him out of the group.
Allura tells him he isn’t worthy of being a paladin of voltron. That he needs to step it up. That he isn’t as good as the others. She won’t even give him a smile.
The paladins cry out as they watch, screaming that they love him and that it’s an illusion, but stop as they realize something is wrong. Haggar realizes it as well.
Lance isn’t reacting. He isn’t crying, or making a big deal out of it. He’s only looking down at the ground, and they realize that they’ve seen him do this countless of times. Haggar screams “why do you just stand there?! Your friends, your fellow paladins have rejected you, they think you’re a terrible paladin and that you don’t belong! Why haven’t I broken you yet?!” She screams this as she shoots a blast of energy. The paladins scream as Lance gets thrown across the room. Lance only laughs and slowly, painfully stands up.
“You don’t understand Haggar, this is what everyday for me is.”

The paladins slowly realize that his worst nightmare and fear is how they’ve treated him every day from day one. That they are his worst fear. And that everyday, he tries to get their attention, to be seen, and everyday, they strike him down again and again until it’s routine, and he’s built up so many defenses that when it’s used against him, he doesn’t so much try and stop them.

` ° • ✧ TANGLED SENTENCE STARTERS.

’ Call it what you will… fate… destiny… ’
’ You smell that? Take a deep breath through the nose. ’
’ Really let that seep in. ’
’ What are you getting? ’
’ Your thoughts? ’
’ I don’t know why, but overall it just smells like the color brown. ’
’ I could get used to a view like this. ’
’ Yep, I’m used to it. Guys I want a castle. ’
’ Great. Now I’m the bad guy. ’
’ Look in that mirror. ’
’ I see a strong, confident, beautiful young lady. ’
’ Oh look, you’re here too. ’
’ Skip the drama, stay with Mama! ’
’ This is the story of how I died. ’
’ Don’t worry, this is actually a very fun story and the truth is, it isn’t even mine. ’
’ Oh… oh no… where is my satchel? ’
’ I’ve hidden it. Somewhere you’ll never find it. ’
’ It’s in that pot, isn’t it? ’
’ I’m just teasing! ’
’ How you manage to do that every single day without fail! ’
’ It looks absolutely exhausting, darling! ’
’ Then I don’t know why it takes so long. ’
’ Oh, it’s nothing. ’
’ Who are you, and how did you find me? ’
’ I know not who you are, nor how I came to find you. ’
’ May I just say… Hi. How ya doin’? ’
’ You were my new dream. ’
’ You should know that this is the strangest thing I’ve ever done! ’
’ Let’s just assume for the moment that everyone in here doesn’t like me! ’
’ How ‘bout best two out of three? ’
’ Who’s that? ’
’ They don’t like me. ’
’ Too weak to handle myself out there, huh, ______? ’
’ Go. Live your dream. ’
’ Your dream stinks. I was talking to her. ’
’ I was saying tomorrow is a really big day, and you didn’t really respond. ’
’ I distinctly remember, your birthday was last year. ’
’ No no no, can’t be. ’
’ That’s the funny thing about birthdays, they’re kind of an annual thing. ’
’ You know how I feel about the mumbling. ’
’ Blah blah blah blah blah, it’s very annoying! ’
’ I’m just teasing, you’re adorable. ’
’ I love you so much, darling. ’
’ Let me just get this straight. ’
’ I take you to see the lanterns, bring you back home, and you’ll give me back my satchel? ’
’ When I promise something, I never ever break that promise. ’
’ I didn’t want to have to do this, but you leave me no choice. ’
’ This is kind of an off-day for me. This doesn’t normally happen. ’
’ Fine! I’ll take you to see the lanterns. ’
’ You broke my smolder. ’
’ Here comes the smolder. ’
’ This is bad, this is very very bad, this is really bad… ’
’ They just can’t get my nose right! ’
’ Who cares? ’
’ Well, it’s easy for you to say… ’
’ The party lasted an entire week, and honestly, I don’t remember most of it. ’
’ I’ve been dreaming about them my entire life! ’
’ Haven’t any of you ever had a dream? ’
’ What’s your dream? ’
’ Sorry, boys. I don’t sing. ’
’ Well, I hope you’re here to apologize. ’
’ I have something for you too. ’
’ I should have given it to you before, but I was scared. ’
’ And the thing is, I’m not scared anymore. ’
’ You know what I mean? ’
’ All right, okay, give me a boost, and I’ll pull you up. ’
’ I just… I can’t believe that after all we’ve been through together, you don’t… trust me? ’
’ Sorry… my hands are full. ’
’ I’ve been looking out of a window for eighteen years. ’
’ And what if it is? What do I do then? ’
’ What if it’s not everything I dreamed it would be? ’
’ Well, that’s the good part I guess. ’
’ You get to go find a new dream. ’
’ That’s a lot of hair. ’
’ Oh, now they’re just being mean. ’
’ I can’t believe I did this! ’
’ I mean, what she doesn’t know won’t kill her, right? ’
’ I have made the decision to trust you. ’
’ So, what do you want with my hair? To cut it? ’
’ Listen, the only thing I want to do with your hair is to get out of it… ’
’ I have a big surprise! ’
’ Did I ever tell you I’ve got a thing for brunettes? ’
’ Is it ruffians? Thugs? Have they come for me? ’
’ Stay calm. It can probably smell fear. ’
’ You should see your faces because you look - ’
’ I didn’t see that coming. ’
’ But I know what the big question is? ’
’ So! Hey can I ask you something? ’
’ Because I’m not gonna lie, that would be stupendous… ’
’ Is there any chance that I’m going to get super strength in my hand? ’
’ Oh. Sorry yes, just… lost in thought I guess. ’
’ Whoaaaa! Somebody get me a glass! ’
’ Frying pans… who knew, right? ’
’ Sorry! Just, don’t… don’t freak out. ’
’ Is that blood in your mustache? ’
’ Look at all the blood in his mustache! ’
’ I can’t help but notice you seem a little at war with yourself here. ’
’ Now, I’m only picking up bits and pieces here, of course. ’
’ A little rebellion, a little adventure, that’s good. Healthy, even. ’
’ I mean, this is serious stuff. ’
’ But let me ease your conscience. This is part of growing up. ’
’ You’re way over thinking this, trust me. ’
’ I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I’m letting you out of the deal. ’
’ What is it going to take for me to get my satchel back? ’
’ You can’t tell anyone about this, okay? ’
’ Well, I’ve gotta say, I didn’t know you had that in you back there. ’
’ Now, I know I’m not supposed to mention the hair. ’
’ Frankly, I’m too scared to ask about the frog. ’
’ If you want to see the lanterns so badly, why haven’t you gone before? ’
’ Why would you ask such a ridiculous question? ’
’ I’ve spent my entire life hiding from people who would use me for my power… ’
’ That criminal is to be hanged for his crimes. ’
’ Hmm. I have magic hair that glows when I sing. ’
Slight Changes || Park Jimin

Originally posted by lonastic

Word Count: 1.9k

Genre: Angst/Fluff


“You can’t be serious Y/N, it wasn’t even my fault.” You ignored Jimin’s voice as you stormed away from him and walked into the kitchen. The only thing you wanted to do right now was get away from him, but it seemed that no matter how far you got from him he would just appear right behind you again.

“Yes, Jimin, I am serious. What would make you think otherwise?” Your tone was bitter, anger flooding through you and exiting in the form of words. There was no other way for you to release it so you just had to deal with trying your best to stay calm and not completely flip out on your boyfriend. Jimin sighed loudly before speaking again, causing you to turn around and look at him.

“She was just a fan, fan’s get close. It’s not my fault.” He argued. You rolled your eyes, feeling more anger rise at the fact that he was trying to defend himself over this. The picture had been all over twitter and it seemed that ARMY’s were going crazy over it. They had been tweeting it at you, waiting for some kind of reaction, but you held back until the moment he got home and you could confront him about it.

“It’s your fault that you didn’t try to ask her to move, and it’s your fault that you didn’t mention me, you know, your girlfriend.” You said.

“God you always get like this.” Jimin’s tone surprised you, and you couldn’t help but feel a little taken aback by his words. There wasn’t anything about it that was very different, just a slight undertone of frustration that you weren’t used to. Jimin was always calm with you, even now while you were practically yelling at you he was keeping his normal tone.

“What do you mean I always get like this?” You asked.

Keep reading

fyi

The point isn’t that John is thrown a rope despite being chained to the bottom of the well. The point isn’t that they managed to leap to safety from an exploding flat. The point isn’t that Mycroft, previously referred to as the ice man, is terrified and repulsed to the point of vomitting. The point isn’t that we never saw the contents of John’s letter. The point isn’t that the timeline for Eurus meeting Moriarty doesn’t actually make sense within the previously established narrative. The point isn’t that a kid went missing and no adult authority thought to check in the nearby well. The point isn’t that John’s hair grew seemingly overnight. The point isn’t Sherlock failing to notice missing glass. The point isn’t that John strong moral principle Watson could have an affair and beat his best friend to a pulp. The point isn’t that we never found out who the “mutual friend” was. The point isn’t that there was a dog bowl. The point isn’t that paper somehow survived the flat going up in flames.

The point is that all these things happened together. There isn’t just one singular thing to look at and go “that’s why series 4 sucked”, it’s all of these inconsistencies put together. I just keep seeing people say things like “omg obviously we didn’t need to see John getting unchained to know that it happened” and “would people get over the fucking letter, it wasn’t important what it said its just about the drama” and I’m like that’s totally valid if we were just looking at any one (or even a couple) of these things happening throughout this series. But we’re not. All of these things happened. Yes people are making a big deal out of little things, but it’s because when you actually add up the amount of little things…well turns out that list isn’t actually that little.

This series displayed some truly lazy writing, and not on a small scale.

TalesFromTheFrontDesk: That time I was one of the weird guests who didn't trust the motel

In my early 20s, I took a quick vacation to a coastal city where I only had time to book two nights. Being largely broke, I researched online to find the cheapest possible hotel with acceptable ratings, and I booked a room at an okay place: a highway-side motel with exterior balconies that had once been a pretty nice family getaway but was now a rung or two above hotels with a number after the name.

But there was a major hitch: despite reviews saying the staff was helpful and the parking lot was well-lighted etc. multiple reviews claimed that housekeeping had a habit of stealing items from rooms. It wasn’t just one or two snowflakes ranting - there were reviews going back for several years where guests complained that valuable stuff had gone missing and management had searched for it to no avail.

If I’d had more money, this (apparent) history of theft would have gotten the motel booted off my candidate list, but I was living at home while working full time in another town with a ninety minute commute, so I was grateful that I could have a vacation at all.

Anyway.

I check in and the front desk is friendly and super helpful, just like the online reviews promised. The room hasn’t been updated in twenty-five years and smells like the cigarette smoke from people who’ve long since died from emphysema, but I don’t care since I’m only using the place to crash.

Still, those reviews of housekeeper theft bother me. And so, me being way more anxious at the time than I am now, decide to stuff anything I considered “valuable” into my duffel bag and take it with me in my car when I go to the city proper. This, along with my backpack which I planned to take with me anyway, is pretty much all I brought on this trip.

When I get back to the motel in the evening, I try my key card in the door. It doesn’t work.

No big deal, I’ve stayed at hotels many times before, I know the drill. I go to the front desk.

Me: Excuse me, my card doesn’t work.

FD: Can I see your ID? What’s your room number?

Me: (shows her my ID) 222.

FD: (looks at the computer) It says here that you checked out.

Me: What?

FD: Yep. You are Carcharodon, right?

Me: I am.

FD: Yeah, Carcharodon checked out at 11:25 AM today.

Me: I don’t understand. I wasn’t anywhere near the office then. I paid for another night at this hotel.

FD: That’s what this says. “Guest checked out”.

For a moment, I have a horrific feeling that I’ve somehow crossed over into an alternate timeline where I had indeed checked out that morning, and now I was trapped outside both the confines of cause and effect and my place to spend the night.

FD: Hold on a second.

I wait for a few minutes and then the FDA comes back smiling. It turns out that I’d left so few items in the room - toiletries, a shaving kit, books and a couple articles of clothing - that housekeeping assumed I’d checked out. Thankfully they still had a room available (the same room I’d “checked out” of earlier) and they’d saved all my personal items, which the motel had sealed in individual Ziploc bags with my name and room number. FDA gave them to me one by one and it was like getting my belongings back after being released from prison.

tl;dr I was paranoid and didn’t trust housekeeping with my belongings, so housekeeping checked me out of my room.

By: Carcharodon_literati

Yours, Castiel

Anon Request: Could you do a Reader x Cas where Cas makes creative use of one of his feathers?

Word Count: a little over 2k

Warnings: this is some CHEESY SHIT, FAM. also there’s some language. but basically just a fluff overload.

Originally posted by yaelstiel

You slowly walked into the map room and rubbed your eyes, still weary from sleep. You were surprised when you opened them and saw Castiel sitting at the table, furiously writing something with…a feather?

Keep reading

Favorite Yu-gi-oh! Quotes (anime dub)

Grandpa: “You do know what a trap card is, don’t you?”
Joey: “yeah, uh…kinda…uh…I have no idea.”

Tea: I’ve given this friendship speech a thousand times already. Hasn’t it sunk in yet?

Joey: Now why does all these weird stuff always happen to us? (Yugi silent) You hava gotta to admit, it’s true.

Yugi: “Let’s just sit here, put our heads together and think.”
Tristan: “Just remember one of those heads is Joey’s so that’s like subtracting one mind.”
Joey: “Ha ha. Very funny Tristan.”

Tristan: “Don’t worry, we still have my Great Outdoor survival Guide!”
Joey: “G'head, Tristan, eat all the pages ya like.”

Mai: “I’m no cartoon expert, but exploding volcano biceps? That’s bad, right?”

Yugi: “Wow, there’s chips …”
Joey: “Dibs on the chips.”
Yugi: “Candy bars …”
Joey: “Dibs on the candy bars.”
Yugi: “Fruit …”
(silence)
Yugi: “Soda.”
Joey: “Dibs on the soda.”

Yugi: “Uhh … Joey … I don’t think you should be cooking the candy bars …”
Joey: “Back off! I know what I’m doing!”

Yami Bakura: “Present day humans are so fun to terrorize, don’t you think?”
Tristan: “No I don’t, but then again I am a present day human. What the heck are you?”

Yami Marik: “Let’s check the damage, and cause some more.”

Yami Marik: “I will not be destroyed!” (guess what happens 10 seconds later)

Joey: Whoever designed this game has a thing for walking into bright light. Tristan: Well you got to admit, it is quite dramatic.

Rex: “Does the grim reaper know you’ve raided his wardrobe?”

Rex: “Note to self, seatbelts were invented for a reason.”

Rex: That card is useless to you!(Joey reveals Hermos) (Shaken) That, on the other hand, might help you…

Weevil: “Name the last time one of my ideas didn’t work!”
Rex: “Every time! Just once I’d like to get my revenge without looking like a dork!”

Tristan: (about Duke’s driving) “Maybe we’re safer on foot.”
Joey: “Give me a piggyback, and you got a deal.”

Tristan: “Are you sure that’s Atlantis?”
Joey: “Hmm, big ancient city looking thing rising out of the ocean? Yeah, looks about right.”

Kaiba: “Don’t you have someone else to annoy?”
Joey: “No, not at the moment.”

Joey: “I’m sure there’s some other folk trying to take over the world back home!”
Tristan: “You know, the scary thing is he’s probably right.” 

Joey: Are we goin’ or what?
Kaiba: What do you think, genius?
Joey: I’m detectin’ some sarcasm, rich boy.
Kaiba: Really?

Joey: [panting while carrying Rex] Why…are we…carrying this guy…that we don’t even like…all over civilization?
Tristan: Because we’re the good guys.

Joey: So Yugi, about that Underdog card… you said it reminds you of someone…
Yami: [surprised] I did? Yes, well…Um, [to Yugi] a little help here? [winks and
switches with a blushing Yugi]
Yugi: Huh?…Oh, that’s real mature, Pharaoh! [Still blushing and Sees Joey] Er…
Joey: [Playfully locks Yugi’s head in his arms] So, Yuge, everyone else seems to think that Underdog card reminds you of me.
Yugi: Well, um, let me put this in the best way possible, [^^ and fingers ><] the card reminded me of you because when the odds are against you, you always pulls through.
Tristan: I can see it on your business cards right now, Joey Wheeler, Executive Underdog.
Joey: [angered] Hey!!

Kaiba: Any duelist late for registration will be disqualified. Mokuba, make sure
Wheeler’s late.
Joey: Hey! I know an insult when I hear one! Look at me when I’m yelling at ya’!
Tristan: Don’t worry about it, Joey! This tournament was just a cheap way for Kaiba to promote Kaibaland!
Mokuba: [raises his fist] You know I’m standin’ right here, right?!

Yugi: "Is that a Blue Eyes arena?”
Joey: “We’re not dealing with normal people here.”
Duke: “No, we’re not.”

Ziegfried:(summons 3 goddesses) “Now it’s one underdog against three divas.”
Joey: “You mean four divas.”

::Slifer the sky dragon emerges from the palace, following Pharaoh Atem and Bakura::
Bombasa: “And that is a big, red dragon!”
Joey: “This sort of thing used to surprise me, but now … not so much.”

Yugi: (running for his poor dear life)
Tristan and Joey: (in unison) “Yugi!?”
Yugi: (runs past them) “TALK LATER! RUN NOW!”
Joey: “What’s with him?” (He and Tristan turn around to see a gang of mummies running towards them)
Tristan and Joey: “ZOINKS!” (Both run away)

Pegasus: “What did I do to inspire such hatred?”
Kaiba: “It’s a long list, and I don’t have a lot of time.”

Pegasus: Anubis is gone. No one could return from a defeat so thoroughly devastating as that!! Well … no one but Kaiba that is … I’m sorry, did I say that out loud? 

Kaiba: When are you geeks gonna stop giving that lame friendship speech?
Tristan: I’d say… when you stop pretending everything’s a magic trick.

Tristan: (After the tomb collapsed) So this is the end? Feels weird.
Joey: Yeah.
Seto: What were you geeks expecting?
Joey: Fireworks, sappy music, something… At least make up one of your wrap-up speeches, Yug.
Yugi: Well, sometimes the end of one adventure is the beginning of another.
Joey: Ahh, much better.

Your bad driving caused you to not get hired.

(warning: long story)

Background: I work for a construction company that has many divisions but I work in the new construction section. I’ve been working at this company for about 5 years but actually worked along with my Dad who had 30+ years at the same company. Because of his long tenure in not only the field but with the company I got a lot of inside perks. I created a lot of very beneficial professional relationships through him. My dad recently became very sick (suffering from liver and throat cancer stage 4) and had to stop coming to work. My Dad and I were the only office guys in the department, so once he stepped away I became number 1 guy in the department, making all the decisions. This detail will come into play later.

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The signs as wise and encouraging things my friends have told me
  • <p> <b><p></b> <b><p></b> <b><p></b> <b><p></b> <b><p></b> <b>Aries:</b> "The heart is not logical. It cannot be reasoned with."<p/><b>Taurus:</b> "Don't hold grudges, salt will kill you. Forgive, forget, and move on."<p/><b>Gemini:</b> "Some people will never change and will always be bitches. You're just going to have to deal with them."<p/><b>Cancer:</b> "The past is the past; you cannot change it."<p/><b>Leo:</b> "You need the space to leave more room in your heart to love yourself more than others."<p/><b>Virgo:</b> "See you just gotta look at the bigger picture - what do you want to do and what's going to get you there?"<p/><b>Libra:</b> "Make yourself proud."<p/><b>Scorpio:</b> "Sometimes you just gotta do the thing and let it happen."<p/><b>Sagittarius:</b> "Just do what you need to do and trust that everything will turn out for the best."<p/><b>Capricorn:</b> "Be nice to yourself."<p/><b>Aquarius:</b> "Never stop being you. Don't change for anybody."<p/><b>Pisces:</b> "You are emotional and that is a beautiful thing. Don't forget that."<p/></p><p/></p><p/></p><p/></p><p/></p><p/></p>
If Harry Potter had been sorted in Slytherin House.

In the first year, Harry Potter decides to shake Draco Malfoy’s hand when he first offered to be friends. Even though he doesn’t like to admit it, it is Voldemort that spoke for him at that moment. Immediately after, he’s sorted with the blond in Slytherin. They team up quickly and Harry convinces Malfoy that Snape is not the nice guy. Harry discovers how Draco Malfoy was raised by a racist family and fights a lot with Malfoy and his nasty comments because he knows what it is like to be rejected for something you have no control on. Harry (and Draco, though he doesn’t want to admit it) becomes friends with Ron and Hermione when they find Ron, by himself, looking for Hermione at Halloween. Draco and Harry were sneaking out, trying to find the troll for the lols of it and Ron was doing according to the canon storyline. The four of them don’t completely get along first, mostly because Draco cannot stand the mudblood, but after heated arguments and a deal on the quidditch field (”If I catch the snitch, and I will, before you make a single goal, Malfoy, you stop calling Hermione a mudblood.”) he finally accepts to keep his mouth shut and roll his eyes a minimum when they hang out with the Gryffindors. The four of them goes in the trap for the philosopher stone. Draco helps Hermione carrying Ron to the infirmary.

In the second year, by having a true friend, Draco jerk attitude gradually fainted. Harry and him, both understand each other without words ever needed. They also hang a lot with Ron and Hermione. Draco is always quiet when they are with them. He’s too busy rolling his eyes. Harry tells Draco about Dobby and Draco forces Dobby to stop trying to kill his friend and tell them about the Chamber of Secrets. They practice Quidditch together all the time. Draco complains about his dad a lot. They use polyjuice to spy on the teachers to learn more about the chamber of secrets, instead, all they learn is about McGonnagall’s wife. Draco and Ron are both with Harry in the Chamber of Secrets but are separated when Lockhart uses Ron’s wand. They let Harry go find Ginny and stay quiet for a bit. After a couple of minutes, they start talking and recognise that they have a lot more in common than they thought. They start arguing about their collection of chocolate toads cards.

In the third year, Draco was with Harry, in the train, when the dementors strike. He says a sassy comment when Harry wakes up after fainting, yet he did hear a woman screaming. It was his mum. Screaming at his dad. They always fight. He’s jealous that Harry spends time with Lupin. He feels lonely. He hates the other Slytherins. Especially, Pansy Parkinson. She’s always following him around. He finds himself spending more time with Ron and Hermione in order to avoid her. They talk about how shitty is Divination class. Pansy Parkinson is the one that gets hit by Buckbeak. She wants to impress Draco. She’s the first one to notice that Draco is hypnotised by Harry Potter. She hates it. Draco is the one that falls off his broom. He cannot participate in the saving of Buckbeak nor Sirius because he’s in the infirmary for a long time (don’t worry Harry visits him often).

By the fourth year, we get to see both of characters to evolve together, tease each other, flirt with each other under sassy comments. Draco helps Harry getting ready for the Triwizard Tournament. Harry finds Draco tied up in the lake; he’s the person he cares the most about. Harry tells Hermione about how if he was a girl he would invite Draco to the Yule Ball. Draco invites Pansy (because he knows she’ll accept) to make Harry jealous. Harry goes with Parvati to convince himself he doesn’t have feelings for Draco. He promptly realises he’s been lying to himself when he sees Draco holding Pansy tightly. Draco starts going out with her. Lots of drama. The third task happens. It kills Draco to see Harry so devastated after Cedric’s death. If finds him in Maugrey’s office with Dumbledore and Co. Harry is angry at Draco because he saw his dad that night. Their dads. Draco is petrified, struck for the first time of the horrors his father took a part to. Maybe even is mother. Reconciliation. Draco’s character development of the end of the seventh book happens.

By the fifth year, Harry sassy comments to Draco’s father made Draco realise that his home is not at the Malfoy’s manor. Narcissa, loyal confident of her son, offers that he moves definitely with Andromeda after a torrid fight she has with her son about their link with Voldemort. She knows he will be happier there. She also knows Voldemort plans and she wants to distance her precious son from this toxic household. Andromeda’s house is also very close to the Dursleys. Draco teams up with Harry for the Dumbledore Army. They also team up with Fred and George to prank Umbridge, a lot. Harry and Draco kiss for the first time at a meeting everyone forgot except them. Harry tells Hermione. Draco tells Ron. Draco goes to the Christmas party at 12 Grimmauld place. Harry tells clumsily Sirius about his bisexuality. Sirius is moved by Harry’s confidence and tells him about how James and Lily would be proud of their son. How he is proud of the man he became. Harry and Draco cuddle secretly and it helps Harry with his nightmares. Draco freezes at the fight of the ministry. What if his father or his mother are there? He cannot risk hurting them. He holds Harry when Sirius dies. He holds Harry after Voldemort’s fight. His parents learn about it. Narcissa knew. Lucius is infuriated, goes to Andromeda’s to talk his son out of the noxious relation he shares with Harry Potter. Draco stands up for the first time against his father.

In the sixth year, they accept their affection for each other and team up with Ron and Hermione to destroy Voldemort. The whole Halfblood Prince thing isn’t happening nor is Draco plotting against Dumbledore, Snape is charged to kill Dumbledore and he’s the one that lets the Death Eaters into the castle. Draco is constantly haunted by the face of disgust of his father when he looked at him the last time they met. He accepts to help Harry but makes him understand he won’t be able to fight Death Eaters if they meet any. 

It all goes according to canon until they are at the Malfoy’s manor and Bellatrix tortures Draco for having betrayed his family and his blood. The scars he gets replaces the one left by Sectum Sempra in canon. Narcissa is at Andromeda’s when it happens. When she learns about it, she breathes in painfully and promises to herself to help Harry when the time comes. Lucius tells her when she comes back in order to win back her trust. She’s so angry at Bellatrix but she hides it impeccably, she volunteers to do extra work for Voldemort to conceal her rage. It makes her gain even more his trust for when the Moment comes. Everything goes as canon, except that it is Pansy Parkinson that goes hysteric in the Room of Requirements and set fire to it. Draco was the one that went in the Chamber of Secrets because he always hears his boyfriend talk in Parseltongue in his sleep. Draco has a breakdown when he sees Harry in the arms of Hagrid and Narcissa, helpless, by his side. When Harry moves, he automatically runs to him and throws his wand at him. He then runs into the castle to find another wand but ends up helping Sybil Trelawney with an injured student. He understands that even if he despised her classes, she’s a good person and is worth respect.

The epilogue is that after the war they both become professors at Hogwarts; Harry is the D.A.D.A. teacher and Draco is the potions teacher. They adopt Teddy Lupin and it makes them want to adopt more children: James, Scorpius, Neville and Lily. All is well.

Going Up

Word Count: 1033

Pairing: Jensen x Reader

Warnings: Daddy Jensen

A/N: Credit to @impala-dreamer for semi inspiring this. At least the bed break part with a story about how she broke a bed with her husband. I’ll say no more. Leave it to your imaginations. 

Constructive feedback always welcome and appreciated


“I’m back!” You made your way into your house, calling out for Jensen and your daughter. “Ellie! Jay!” No answer. You put the grocery bags in the kitchen and looked around, unable to find them anywhere. Thinking that maybe they fell asleep upstairs you ran up the staircase, making your way down the hall, when you heard your daughter’s giggles.

“Again, Daddy!” She giggled. “Again!”

“Ok, come on. Get back on.” You quietly cracked the door of your bedroom open, peeking inside. Jensen was on his knees on the bed, face down in the covers. Ellie was crawling over and climbing on his neck. As soon as she was on he raised up, grabbing her ankles in his hands. She grabbed his head for balance, a huge smile on her face. “Going up.” Jensen chuckled.

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anonymous asked:

I often have ideas for a scene or a character but there is no plot. How can I expand these ideas into stories? I just don't know what to do with my ideas to get a story out of them. Most plotting tips require that I know at least the beginning and the end of my story. But I don't even have that.

Hi Anonymous,

I’ve heard of other writers having this same problem, so you are not alone! Here are some ideas that come to mind when I think about this.

Coming up with a Plot (from scratch)

First off, you have ideas for characters or scenes, and that’s a starting point, and you probably (I’m assuming, because it wasn’t that long ago) saw my post, What to Outline When Starting a Story, which can give some guidance on what to consider. However, if you have no idea where to even come up with a concept for your plot that post can only be so much help.

Conflict out of Story Elements

Since you have some ideas about character and scene, I’d try building off that. In some cases, you might need to flesh those out a bit more to continue (I don’t know, since I don’t know how much you have those figured out).New York Times best-selling author David Farland points out in his book Million Dollar Outlines that characters grow out of their setting. We are all influenced by our setting–where we live, where we spend our time, what century we’re part of, etc.

Setting –> Character

Farland goes on to say that out of character (and setting) comes conflict:

Setting + Character –> Conflict

Plot obviously comes from some sort of conflict, the character reacting to and trying to solve that conflict or conflicts. But let’s finish out the diagram/equation.

Setting –> Character –> Conflict –> Theme

How conflicts are dealt with in the story create the theme.

It should be noted though that this diagram may not be helpful to everyone, and it’s also possible to work backwards from it. For example, I personally don’t like the idea of starting with the setting–although, realistically, pretty much all stories start there, if only to the most basic degrees (time period, real world vs. fantasy world, Earth vs. space, etc.). I often like to start with character. But as you work on your character, at some point, you are going to be looking back at what kind of life he grew out of and where he came from, and where he is now. Other people may like to start with conflict, and work back into character and setting. So, it doesn’t have to be linear.

But let’s look at the conflict part. You need some form of conflict to have plot. As I mentioned a few weeks ago in my post Are Your Conflicts Significant? the conflict should either be broad (far-reaching) or personal to the character. If it’s not either, it’s probably not that significant. However, it should be noted that you can make almost any conflict broad, or personal.

But how do you even get to that point? If you like Farland’s diagram, what I would suggest would be looking at those characters and setting. Brainstorm conflicts by asking yourself questions.

  • What conflict can come out of this setting?

For example, in some stories, major conflicts come straight out of the setting. Most if not all dystopians, like The Hunger Games fall into this category. You can even look at movies like Interstellar, which deals largely with space travel. The major conflict came out of a setting (Earth will soon be inhabitable). In a fantasy story, conflicts can come out of the world and worldbuilding (setting), whether it’s the magic system or the world itself. In Lord of the Rings, the major conflicts often come from the setting (Frodo has to make it to Mount Doom) and magic (the One Ring is a magical object that must be destroyed). In historical fiction, it can come out of setting–what are some of the conflicts the world was dealing with during WWII?

But what about something more small-scale than Panem, outer space, and Middle-earth? Setting can play a role there too. What kind of conflicts can come out of attending high school in 2017? What conflicts might be present there? What conflicts might come out of trying to start a career as a woman centuries ago? The story doesn’t have to be epic for this sort of brainstorming to work.

Les Miserableis a good example of how setting can play into conflicts, whether it’s being a struggling young mother, a convict, or participating in politics.

  • What conflict can come out of this character?

Once you have your character, you can try brainstorming conflicts for her. Now, there are sort of two ways to approach this.

One, you look at your character–her personality, strengths, weaknesses–and ask yourself, what would this character want? Figuring out what your character wants is often vital to a good story. In some stories, it can be more simple, basic, or straightforward. Maybe your character just wants money. In other cases, it might be bigger. Maybe your character wants to defeat an evil ruler. It can be somewhat philosophical. Maybe your character dreams of ridding the universe of a false god, like in His Dark Materials.

When you know what your character wants, you can start brainstorming conflicts by considering what could stop her from getting what she wants. In Lord of the Rings, Frodo volunteers to destroy the Ring, but there are literal obstacles in his way. Space, for one thing. He has to travel for miles and miles and miles. Then there are other people and creatures: orcs, Shelob, Sauron, even his own companions–these people are in conflict with him. He has to deal with getting hurt, wounded, and fatigued. All these things are keeping Frodo from his goal. And of course, his ultimate want is to return to the Shire, but he has to destroy the Ring first.

If your character wants to be in a relationship with someone, there are obstacles too. Maybe the love interest doesn’t know he exists. Maybe there is a family feud, like in Romeo and Juliet. Maybe there is a love triangle. Whatever your character wants, you start brainstorming what could keep him from getting it.

A second approach to brainstorming conflicts with character is to look at your character and consider what kind of situations would be difficult for them, what would make them grow. In some cases, they might be the reluctant hero. Love him or hate him, as I mentioned a few weeks ago, Edward Cullen is a good example of this sort of thing. He’s a “vegetarian” vampire living his life, and then out of nowhere, a girl shows up that is basically his personal brand of cocaine. How is he supposed to deal with this? Worse. He has feelings for her. Immediately, Edward is in conflict.

Now, you can combine both methods. And in reality, both those examples have both. Sure, Frodo volunteered to take the Ring, but he was basically the only person who could. But look at him. He’s just a humble hobbit. He doesn’t do magic, he doesn’t know warfare, and he knows very little about the world. But he’s thrown into a situation where those characteristics will be tested. Similarly, Edward is thrown into a situation, but he ends up having wants too. He wants to be in a relationship with Bella. But the fact he is a vampire and she has potent blood is a conflict that impedes that.

So you can brainstorm conflicts from setting and character.

Plot out of Conflict Types

Let’s look at this another way.

There are five types of conflict.

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ridragon  asked:

What are some animal jobs that someone who isn't smart enough or not able to handle stress enough to be a vet? I need my career to be with animals but I don't think I'm capable of vet school.

The largest chunk of stress that come with being a veterinarian comes with dealing with people, and trying to get them to pay for services. If you’re looking for other animal related jobs, consider the species of interest and branch out from there. Broadly speaking some jobs you could consider are:

  • Vet nurse/ vet tech. Still medical but less diagnostic and financial responsibility
  • Pet groomer
  • Farrier
  • Running a pet store
  • Zoologist/Zoo worker –> best to ask somebody else for more detail here
  • Animal research, wild or captive
  • Farming
  • Dog training, including guide dogs and other assistance animals
  • Guide Dogs Victoria maintain their own breeding kennels and hire multiple staff
  • Council dog warden (catching stray dogs, reuniting them, encouraging responsible pet ownership etc)
  • Animal cruelty inspector. Depends on your local organization, but often requires organizing lots of evidence for legal proceedings. You still have to deal with unpleasant human beings, but you’re not expected to be nice to them.
  • Animal educator. Work description varies with the institution, but zoos and wildlife parks might employ them.

And there are office staff positions at many clinics that still grant you exposure to animals, but with less medical stress.

I’d recommend considering the job you were interested in, and then seeing what other jobs and professions they interact with and investigate them too. I’d also watch the notes and see if others in similar professions have additional ideas for you.

4

Then he sent me some weird pictures… I’m like all man that’s Andre Hayworth… this dude been missing for 6 months.Right? So I do all my research you know cause as a TSA agent… you know, you guys are detectives, you know, I got the same training. We might know more than y'all sometimes, you know cause we are dealing with some terrorist shit, so… but that’s a totally different story. So look I, I go do my… my detective work, right? And I start putting pieces together. And see this is what I came up with. Their probably abducting black people, brain washing them and making them slaves. Or sex slaves. not just regular slaves, but sex slaves and shit. See?

Tom Holland x Reader: Apartment

Summary: You and Tom Holland are neighbors in the same apartment complex. You have a crush on him, he has a girlfriend. What could go wrong? You could think of five separate incidents.

Warnings: cursing

Word count: 7,132


No 1: the coffee maker incident (which was all harrison’s fault)

The moment your knuckles leave the door it’s already swinging back, revealing a face flushed with relief. Tom Holland’s eyes flutter closed, leaning his head against the door frame and looking up at you through his lashes with a smile plastered on his face.

“Oh thank god you actually came. You’re good at fixing things, right?” he asked, ushering you into his apartment before hearing your answer. You’re a little reluctant to enter, thinking that you’ll somehow track mud across his pristine white carpet, or smudge a stain on his suede chairs that weren’t in there the last time you’d been over.

“I’m good at putting Ikea furniture together, if that’s what you mean,” you call after him as you hop around on one foot, attempting to slide your boots off without appearing like a fool. You look around once more, taking in the features of Tom’s place.

You can’t say you like what he’s done. There are too many colors; blues and yellows that are too bold, an abundance of throw pillows against a couch that you swear your parents had gushed over in a Rooms-To-Go catalog. None of it looks like him, and you have an inkling as to why, but you keep your mouth shut as you follow the sound of two voices into his kitchen.

“You help me with my T.V all the time. Are you good with stuff like this?” Tom inquires, looking at you over his shoulder. He’s standing in front of something, hunched over the island in the center of the room. On his left, staring at you over his mug, Harrison is sipping away on something.

There’s a smug look in his blue eyes that makes you want to tip his drink onto his shirt, but instead you ignore him, standing on Tom’s right. In front of you is a simple small coffee maker; not a Keurig, but something akin, you could imagine.

“What’s wrong with it?” you question, looking around the top and sides for damage. Tom has his knuckle in his mouth, looking worriedly at the device in front of him. You’ve never seen such an anxious look on his face and it makes your brows crease. “Tom?”

“Hm?” he says, snapping his eyes back to you. The normally sparkling brown hues are muddy, clouded with something you can’t identify. “It’s just… I don’t know what’s wrong with it. I noticed it was out of water and I went to refill it, but when I pressed the button, it wouldn’t make anything.”

Perplexed, you flipped open the lid, seeing nothing wrong. You checked the coffee ground compartment, seeing a pierced, but otherwise unused k-cup sitting in there. With crossed arms, you pressed the power button again, just to be certain.

The three of you watched as the machine’s light started to blink. You cut your eyes over to Tom, wondering what kind of stunt he was pulling. Opening your mouth to speak, you were cut off by the red light blinking out, only for nothing else to happen.

“See!” Tom cried out, fisting his hands in his hair. It curled out of his fist, making two small pony tails at the top of his head. Your eyes narrowed, realizing just how much his hair had grown in the past few months. You hadn’t seen too much of him to have a decent comparison, but you remembered it being much shorter.

“—just wait till she comes home and sees this broken! She’s going to kill me!” Your heart drops into your stomach, limbs suddenly feeling heavy. The coffee maker belonged to his girlfriend. You nodded, now understanding why he had sounded so urgent when he’d called you.

“You’re fucking Spider-Man, ya? Just go out and buy a new one with all that Marvel money,” Harrison pointed out, rolling his eyes as he took another sip of his drink. “She won’t even know the difference.”

“They don’t even make this stupid model anymore, she’s going to know it’s broken. And I didn’t even break it!” he exclaimed, his voice shaking with worry. “What am I going to do?”

“You’re going to calm the hell down, that’s what,” you chided, resting your hands on Tom’s shoulders. He relaxed under your touch, walking backwards as you steered him onto a bar stool. “It’s not the end of the world, dude, just breathe,” you reminded him, watching as his chest heaved heavily. Your hands felt warm as they slid down his arms, coming to rest on the island as you examined the coffee maker.

You drained it of its water, checking the main compartment for any irregularities. Immediately you noted a white film around the sides, and you paused, looking from the sink, to the device, and finally at Harrison.

“Harrison? What are you drinking?” you asked, pulling your phone from your back pocket and shining the flashlight down to the bottom.

“Hot chocolate,” he replied carefully, eyes darting between you and Tom. Peering down, you carefully wiped your finger against the bottom of the compartment, your nails scratching against a hard surface, coated with something.

“Haz, there’s no pot in the sink, or in the dishwasher. What—HAZ!” Tom growled, having put the pieces together. “Did you put milk in the coffee maker?”

“I mean, yeah,” he admitted a not-so-guilty look across his face. “It was sitting right there, and it was faster than heating up a pot.”

“Ah-ha,” you chuckled, closing one eye to look down into the coffee maker. “That would explain this weird shit covering the bottom of this thing.” You gave a pointed look at Harrison, who hadn’t even tried to look remorseful. “You do realize that when you don’t clean up heated milk, it leaves a hard coating on metal. This coffee maker basically has a hot plate that boils the water and then sucks in into a tube. My best guess it that the milk hardened, and the water can’t get through,” you assessed.

“Well how do we fix it?” Tom asked, crossing his arms and looking at you. He seemed to believe you had all the answers, and you bit your lip to hold back you stutters. You didn’t want to disappoint him, to make him think you weren’t the person for the job.

Cutting your eyes over at Harrison, you gave him a pointed look; you made it look reprimanding, but it was really to wipe the smirk off his face. He’d had a smug look since the moment you walked in and it bothered you, making the tips of your ears feel hot.

“Well for starters, don’t do it again,” you bit out, glaring daggers at Harrison. He didn’t reply, but he did walk out of the room, shrugging his shoulders as he walked behind you.

Tom noted the fixed stares you gave him, but said nothing of it. You pursed your lips before looking at the brunette, holding out your hand and asking for a knife.

He blinked, warily pulling out a butter knife and placing it into your palm. You frowned at it, turning it over in your hands. “I need a sharper one.”

Tom raised a brow, hazel eyes glimmering with suspicion. You snorted, wondering if he was actually afraid of you with a knife.

“What, you think I’m going to kill you or something?” You joked. You wondered for a moment if your joke was too dark for a guy who was just your neighbor, but he eventually chuckled, handing you a knife with a sharp, long blade. You gave him your phone, and asked him to shine it down into the machine. Silently, with the two of your heads close together, you both bowed your heads with work to do.

This was an awkward fifteen minutes. Every now and then Tom would pick his eyes up and watch as your face scrunched in concentration. Your lips would part as an almost inaudible curse passed through, making him laugh a bit. Every time you felt him move you would try not to catch his gaze, attempting to discreetly look at him. You could feel how close he was and it felt wrong that your heart was beating so fast, or that you couldn’t breathe.

After what felt like hours, you retracted, taking the machine to the sink to wash it out. You filled it and plugged it back in, waiting patiently with a mug as you started it.

Tom looked as though he was holding a breath, and sure enough, when the coffee streams out he sighed, leaning against the counter with his entire weight, looking as though he’s been saved from the fires of hell.

He turns, eyes shining in praise as he gushed a bunch of rushed thank you’s, his accent slurring everything together. You’re really just nodding and smiling, telling him that it’s fine and no big deal. You’ll tell yourself anything to get rid of the hammering in your chest, louder than construction work as you feel blood rush to your face.

“I seriously don’t know what I’d do without you.” He sounds like he’s speaking about your presence in general, but that can’t be true. All you’ve ever done for him was put together furniture and now fix his coffee maker, but he seems to like you, as a friend and neighbor. Which you’ll take.

“It’s no problem at all Tom. And it’ll be less of a problem if I can have this,” you pull the mug away, bringing the rich black coffee to your lips.

“Yeah, yeah, of course. Do you want to stay for a bit? I feel like you’re always in and out, and-“ his words die as his cell phone rings, the ringtone that default sound that makes you jump. He takes it, holding his hand up apologetically, but you shake your head. You weren’t going to stay anyways.

Grabbing your things, you pass Harrison, who looks pretty comfortable on a couch that isn’t his, sipping on the last of his hot chocolate. He smiles when you walk by, but it’s a knowing one, as though he can read your thoughts. You scoff, but before you can get your shoes back on, Harrison says, “You should be thanking me.”

That really riles you up, and you laugh, a forced, sarcastic thing. “For what?”

“If it wasn’t for me you wouldn’t be making any moves.” There’s a wink, but you don’t really care to return his comment. You strain out a “Bye, Harrison,” before closing the door and leaning your back against it.

The cup in your hand is scorching your palm, but you smile regardless. Another reason to knock on Tom’s door. 


No. 2: The incident where you meet his girlfriend and things go wrong

You had this sick feeling in your gut that toady wasn’t the best day to bring back the mug you borrowed from Tom. It was simply the day after, the most reasonable time to drop by and say, “hey, I forgot I took this” without seeming like you harbored it, or cast a spell on it. The little thing sat neatly in your hands, cradled gently as though it was made of crystal.

Your knock was verging on two minutes ago, so you decided to go again, wondering briefly if you should say his name. Calling him may have been a bad idea, but before you could form his name, the door swung back, revealing a brunette that was not Tom.

His girlfriend’s caramel colored hair was a cascade of freshly made curls, evident from the fact that her makeup and outfit were already complete. She lacked shoes, and a sense of hospitality, sizing you up like bully on a playground. When she reached your eyes, you balked, deciding whether it was better to state your purpose, or just drop the item near her feet and scram.  

It would have been much easier for her as well, until Tom caught your eyes from farther behind her. “Y/N?” he questioned, but excitedly, as though he was happy to see you. That made his girlfriend’s lip curl into a sneer, an action that didn’t go unnoticed by you.

“Oh, uh,” you started, wanting so bad to bolt, but transfixed by Tom’s smile and gentle demeanor. He was dressed, indicating that he was probably going out. And from the progress they both had on their outfits, you could guess it was possible they were going on a lunch date.

You felt foolish, your heart drooping in your chest as you resigned yourself to stick with the plan. What did you expect, that his girlfriend would just magically be missing every time you came into his apartment? A dumb idea, one fueled by your fluttering heart, but also by your jealous mind.

“I accidentally took this last time I was here. Sorry,” you said, holding the cup out to the girl. She dropped her eyes to the cup, but made no moves to take it from you. Her hands stayed rooted on the door, and you felt like you could melt under her scrutinizing gaze.

Tom saved you, however, taking the cup from your hands with care, wrapping his hand around it. Your hands brushed each other’s, and your fingertips felt so warm and fiery, igniting your nerves in flames. You looked up to send him a smile, but you caught the look his girlfriend gave you.

Her blue eyes startled you, being so wide and so angry at the same time. Her perfect nails seemed to dent into the metal door as she gripped it with all her might. Her posture was rigid, feet set apart in a fighting stance. You thought her unoccupied hand was going to reach out and punch your teeth out.

The silent threat made you jump, the ware slipping from your fingers and smashing to the floor before you had time to react. You could only pull your feet away and watch in horror as it fell on its handle, small shards of grey porcelain scattering across the floor.

You want to cry, curl up beside the shards and be swept away into a dust bin, you’re so mortified. To your right, she’s smiling a little, resting her hand on Tom’s shoulder as she proceeds to ask if he’s okay. She tiptoes to look over his shoulder, as though she wasn’t standing feet away when it happened. Milking the moment, you catch the glint in her eyes when she rubs his back, saying that she’ll get a broom.

Tom nods, saying a faint, “okay babe,” before he’s taken aback by the kiss she plants on his cheek. You note the pink mark it’s left, a small, but powerful reminder that he’s taken, and that no matter how shy and polite and cute and neighborly you are, there’s nothing you can do about it.

She casts a look that is part sinister and part mocking over her shoulder, but it turns into surprise as the door closes, Tom stepping out into the hall. He’s got his hands behind his back as the door clicks shut, leaving the two of you in the hall.

“Sorry about that, I don’t know how that happened.” He rubs the back of his neck now, as if he’s really considering the idea that he might have done this.

“No, you have nothing to be sorry about. I’m the one who broke it, I should be cleaning it up, I,” your head is fixed towards the ground, unable to meet his gaze. You really just want to walk away, but it was hard, with him so close to you, his height and yours almost the same. There’s no need for tilted heads when every time you look up, it’s just his eyes on yours, and it makes you so frustrated.

“I’m really sorry about this, I promise I’ll get you another one.” In some really nice universe, this is the part where Tom chuckles and says “You don’t have to do that. Just go on a date with me and we’re even.”

But this is not a nice universe. It’s not even close. This universe is horrible and cruel, laughing at your pitiful crush on a taken British boy and your shitty attempts at being his friend.

This universe sucks, so you leave him with that half assed promise and run down the stairs, not looking back as he calls your name.


 No. 3: the incident where you hear something you shouldn’t have (but always wanted to know)

It’s late, and probably your own fault that you’re miserable and at home and have to watch a fucking slideshow about Roswell, New Mexico. The lights are mostly off in your apartment, save for three little hanging lights above your kitchen counter. One sole bottle of Heineken is untouched, probably warm since your friend left over two hours ago for her date.

And now, with a pounding headache and an impossibly bad mood, you felt your limit snap as loud shouts and a bumping bass sounded from Tom’s apartment. He wasn’t a rowdy guy, and his girlfriend didn’t seem like the type to annoy the neighbors at ten pm, but you could think of a certain blonde that would.  

It had been weeks after ‘the breaking of the mug’, weeks of building back the confidence to look Tom in the eyes, and weeks of him being crazy nice to you. He was always asking you to come over, wanting to make up for how bad your last encounter was. Eventually you both settled back into a comfortable friendship, but that only persisted as long as his girlfriend wasn’t around.

After another week of that arrangement, you felt guilty, almost as though you were doing something forbidden. You remembered the shame and palpable tension in the room that occurred every time she came home to find the two (or three, there was no way she could get rid of Harrison) inside. Almost any conversation would drop, and you would leave, giving him a curt goodbye.

It was dumb, it was strenuous and it was so unnecessary. But it felt exciting.

You swallowed that excitement down fast, knowing that there was nothing between you two. You were neighbors, and finally friends; you weren’t going to ruin it because of your unrequited crush on him.

The pounding in your head increased when you heard with clarity and annoyance the repetitive yell of shots. The song seemed to shake your entire apartment and you growled, stomping over and banging on Tom’s door with your fist.

“Hey! It’s a fucking Thursday night!” you yelled, despite your normal timid manner. You seriously just wanted to fall straight asleep and head to work tomorrow and make a final decision on this location. You were losing time and patience and the capacity to care when a face split into a wide grin upon seeing you at the door.

“Hey hey, Y/N!” Harrison’s blue eyes were unfocused and shiny, his smile too big for his face. He stumbled to grab your arm, his grip much tighter as he used all his strength to pull you in.

“Guys, look who I found!” The word “guys” had you at unease, but you surveyed the people around you carefully. You would know the Spider-Man cast anywhere, and Tom’s apartment was definitely a place where you’d seen them the most.

Tony and Jacob both had on tilted ball caps, and when Tony ran to hug you it fell off. “Oh thank god you’re hear Y/N!” he hiccuped, slinging an arm around your shoulder. “Our man Tom has something to tell you.”

The room dissolved into giggles. It sounded like a first grade classroom, their laughter so innocent and playful. The only boy who didn’t seem to be partaking in the fun was Tom, his lips set in a pout as he shoved Jacob weakly.

“Knock it off, boys,” he told them his voice sharp against theirs. He didn’t appear to be as drunk as they were, but the goofy grin that followed proved otherwise.

After another round of laughter, you tried to shrug Tony away from you, but he was heavier without full control over his body. You felt uncomfortable being around four drunk men, who were all stronger than you. Despite knowing that they meant well, the entire situation read badly.

“Tony, please get off me,” you mumbled, which seemed to earn his attention. He stood up straight, raising his arm up mechanically. You took a step back, holding your arms to make yourself small. “Guys, I get that you’re having fun, but I have work to finish, so can you-“

“You’re a location scout, right?” Jacob asks in the moment of lucidity. You nod, watching warily as Jacob stands, holding his hand out to you.

“Jacob Batalon, best actor in this room. If you’re ever in a pinch for actors, you know where to find me.”

“Jacob,” you said slowly, your handshake becoming too long. “We’ve met before.”

“Best actor in the room? Tom has a fucking BAFTA!” Harrison argued over the music, but you both paid no mind to him.

“Uh, I think I’d know if I met anyone as pretty as you. At least, I think you are. I can’t really see, but you’re Y/N, right?”

“Jacob,” you sighed, exasperated. Pinching the bridge of your nose, you were halfway to launching into an explanation before he cut you off.

“Tom’s been going off about this Y/N girl. She lives across the street or something. I’m like, Tom, dude, amigo. How do you know if she’s pretty if she’s all the way over there?” He pointed out the window and you frowned, wondering just what in the world he was on about.

“Jacob I know you! I live next door.” He snapped his fingers loudly, looking back at Tony with wide eyes.

“Tony! It’s the girl, the one Tom mmhmm-“ Harrison covered Jacob’s mouth with his hands, trying to sit him back down. You raised a brow, looking between the four of them before sighing.

“Clearly I’m not getting anything through to you, so I’ll just do it myself.” You huffed, turning to what you believed was the source of the booming music. A stack of black rectangular sound systems sat on a shelf below Tom’s T.V, each of them appearing to be on. In the background, yelling had ensued, with Jacob’s mouth finally free of Harrison’s grip. You paid no mind as you decided to simply turn the volume down. You twisted the dial a little too far, making the music so quiet, that their shouts became clearer.

“Why the hell not! You’re not going to have any other chance!”

“Your girlfriend dumped you, now is the perfect time to tell her!”

“And say what? ‘Hey Y/N, I’ve been in love with you since the day we met’?”

It kept going, not even missing a beat as the four boys started piling shout after shout on top of the others. You, however, had your hands over your mouth, slowly rising to stand up. Your mind tried to process the words in the order you heard them in, making sure it matched what you thought. Your heart felt like it would leap from your chest, knees knocking as you struggled to understand.

Tom liked you. He had since the day you met. And he didn’t plan on telling you.

It was news to you that his girlfriend was no more, but even bigger than that was the idea that each of his friends already knew that he was in love with you. That sentiment seemed like common knowledge, considering its blunt outburst hadn’t shocked anyone to silence.

Suddenly Harrison’s cheeky winks and Tom’s bright smiles seemed more than just coincidences. You wanted to run up to Tom and tell him that you felt the same way, that he meant more to you than just a neighbor or a friend. You felt your heart clench as you realized that those words were never meant to be presented like this. You weren’t supposed to know.

In some nice universe Tom would tell you over another shared mug of coffee, or an a first date somewhere sweet and thoughtful. In some nice universe you could kiss him for saying that, and he’d kiss you back.

But this was not some nice universe, and this shit always happened. You let yourself out, sliding back against the cold metal door and letting out a sob that had been working its way through your chest.

Perhaps that nice universe would only ever be a daydream


No. 4: the incident where the tables have turned

Not but two days after the drunken episode, you walked up the stairs to find Tom, sitting outside his apartment like a lost puppy. He bounced his phone on one knee, the other keeping his forehead up as he scrolled through his phone. After a moment he locked it, turning his head to see you, dazed and confused.

“Y/N!” he exclaimed, his loud voice reminding you of Thursday night, and the deflated way he had yelled your name, saying that he was in love with you. You were starting to believe it; you could see his eyes light up whenever they found you, a small but genuine smile tilting his lips upward. For someone who had just lost a significant other, Tom seemed pretty much in one piece.

Maybe because you were the one seeing him.

Nevertheless, you raised an eyebrow in silent question, to which Tom sheepishly smiled. “I seem to have locked myself out of my own apartment,” he told you, standing up and shoving his hands in his pockets. He was well cleaned up, considering the last time you’d seen him he was smashed beyond compare.

Before you even had the thought of stopping, you blurted, “Doesn’t your girlfriend have a key?”

It was like kicking a puppy; a small, adorable little puppy that only wanted your attention for half a second. The mirth drained out of his face and his eyes quickly dropped to the floor. His hands swung aimlessly by his side. You wanted to take it back, say you were sorry or that you forgot, but you weren’t even supposed to know in the first place.

“Alice and I broke up,” he sighed, and all you could think was ‘So her name was Alice.’

You tried to morph your face into sympathy and surprise, but you weren’t sure how well you pulled it off. “Oh, shit Tom, I’m sorry,” you expressed, wanting to reach out and touch his shoulder, but withholding yourself. Pretending you didn’t know about his feelings for you was so difficult, and you weren’t sure why. It wasn’t like you to be flirty or drop hints, but for some reason that was all you wanted to do: wrap your arms around him, tell him he’d be fine, and remind him that you were next door if he needed you.

In some nice universe that would work, but this wasn’t time or place.

“My spare key is with Harrison, surprise surprise,” Tom joked, which you smiled at.

“You’re never going to see that key again,” you laughed, bringing back a sliver of a smile to the man’s face. He looked better with it, you thought, doing nothing for the butterflies in your stomach. Your laughter calmed down enough for you to shrug. “You can come stay at my place until he gets here, if you don’t have anything to do.”

His eyes widened, but he hid it by raising his left brow. “Are you sure? I don’t want to intrude or anything.”

“Considering it returning the favor. Besides, I’m always in your apartment. We need a change of scenery.” You unlocked your door, coming into your apartment with tense shoulders. Tom had never been in here before, and there was a reason for that. His presence in your apartment would gradually become less and less strange, making him just a part of your home than the couch or the curtains. You didn’t want him to be so familiar that it seemed like he belonged here, because he didn’t. He belonged in his nice white apartment, far away from whatever you had going on here.

There wasn’t much. You weren’t a minimalist, but you preferred less pillows and decorations than actual furniture. The colors were mostly neutral blues and greys, with red here or there. Along the walls were huge posters of cities you’d visited for work. Ashville, Slab City, Roswell, and other obscure towns were littered across your living room, and when you looked back you noticed Tom was staring at all of them.

“You’ve been to all these places?” he inquired, awe lacing his voice. You were shocked by his curiosity, considering he travelled all the time for his job. His face was fixed on the posters, before catching the little framed photos around the bookshelves. “Holy shit, is that you?”

He had the frame in his hand now, and judging from it, you were sure he was indulging himself in staring at a truly mortifying high school photo of yours. “Who are these people?” he pointed, and you grimaced.

“High school friends, if you couldn’t tell by our bad fashion choices,” you groaned, coming up beside him and studying the picture. You were in the middle, as you often were in group photos because everyone was taller than you. It didn’t particularly matter in this instance; you were squatting down, your hands clasped as if in prayer, staring down the camera with a smirk. Above you, four of your friends had lifted up the shortest girl in your group, perching her on their shoulders. It looked like a dysfunctional human pyramid.

“I don’t think I have a picture of me and my mates half as cool as this,” Tom remarked, and you couldn’t help but laugh.

“You think that’s cool? I think we were more crazy than cool,” you spoke wistfully, setting the picture back down. “I’m not even sure why I keep that around. It doesn’t really fit in with this whole thing,” you gestured wildly, pointing at the dozens of colorful photos. Tom’s eyes landed wherever your finger pointed, until the rested back on you.

“Which one of these is your favorite?” he asked, turning in a circle to view every landscape. You put a finger to your lips, eyeing each one carefully, until you landed on one filled with green and purple.

“I took this in Glasgow, about four years ago,” you stated, standing beside a quite large picture of a sprawling field of bluebells. “First time scouting overseas, and a studio needed pictures of old woods to use as concept art. I was with a senior photographer on this one, but he let me take the shots they eventually used.” You glanced up at the photo in reverence, before looking over to Tom.

His face expressed pure adoration, and you found that his eyes rested more so on you than the photo. He seemed to be in a trance, only snapped out of the daze a minute after you’d stopped talking. He tried to shake the grin off, but it was too late. So he went with it, smiling even wider.

“Wow. I’ve been to Scotland before, and I knew it was beautiful. But that?” he threw his hands down and you laughed at his gesture. “I’ve never seen anything like that before.”

“You just have to know where to look. I know I never would have found this place if David wasn’t so familiar with Glasgow,” you told him, heading into the kitchen for drinks. “Next time, take someone who knows what to look for.”

“Maybe I should take you.” It was supposed to be mumbled under his breath, just a wish he kept to himself, but he let his guard down. You heard him, freezing as you stuck your head into the fridge, thanking the heavens that you had a cover for your burning face. You wanted to turn around and tell him yes; absolutely, positively, one-hundred-percent were you on board with going anywhere with him. You wanted to joke that you’d pack your luggage right then and there, that between two seasoned travelers like you, there was sure to be a discount somewhere.

But all you could do was force down the thoughts, grabbing two cokes from the fridge before pressing them to your face. You turned to Tom and smiled, a restrained, glowing thing that startled him, for he hesitantly stepped towards you.

“Maybe you should. Glasgow is one of my favorite places. I’d be happy to show you around.” You hoped you didn’t come off as anything other than friendly, but knowing the situation you were both in, there was no telling his response.

Tom just blinked, his face like a deer in headlights. Suddenly his face was tinted in pick and he smiled, looking down at his shoes bashfully. “I don’t know when we’d ever do it,” he commented, rooting you two back in the reality, the place where you both had jobs to do and obligations to others. But it had been nice, dreaming of Scotland with Tom. Perhaps it would come true.

There was a calm silence that settled in between the conversation, which was ripped away when Tom’s cell rang. He picked it up with reluctance, before making a face at the id. “Haz you better be downstairs or else I’m hanging up.” There was a bit of yelling on the other side, Harrison’s voice distorted by the traffic outside. Tom listened for a moment more before nodded, cutting his eyes over to you.

“Yeah, you can just open yourself, you’re always there anyways,” he quipped, ending the line before sighing. “Sorry, that was Haz, he’s here with my key.” Every word he said sounded breathless, a string of words in an almost incomprehensible British accent and an apology mixed in somewhere. You smiled, before jumping up.

“Oh! Before I forget,” you babbled, reaching into a packed kitchen cabinet for something. You stood on the tips of your toes, reaching for a turned handle before it landed gracefully in your palm. You smiled, handing it over to the dumbfounded man over the counter.

“What’s this?” he asked, turning over the red and blue designed cup. “Is this for me?”

“Yeah! I told you I was going to get you a new mug, I didn’t say what it would look like though.” You bit your lip, wondering if a Spider-Man mug was really the way to go in this situation. In addition to playing the wen head, you knew he had an affinity for the character as well, hoping the combined coincidences would lead him to like it.

He pressed it into his palms, turning it over in the daintiest of ways. He clutched it tight, as though he might break it from just breathing on it. When he picked his head up, you noted the watery glimmer in his brown eyes, which he tried his hardest to blink back. There were so many small things about Tom that made your heart flutter, but you didn’t have time to study them all.

“Thank you,” his small voice took you from your thoughts. “That was really sweet of you. You didn’t have to do this.”

“I wanted to,” you relied firmly, placing a hand on his shoulder. “And I couldn’t live with myself if I never replaced it. Seriously, take it,” you told him, seeing as he was unwilling to leave with it. He stared at it a little while longer before he jolted, a buzzing sounding from his back pocket.

“Harrison’s here, I should, uh,” He stammered out, slowly taking some steps back. You nodded, giving him a slight wave and then headed back to the kitchen. You didn’t look up until you heard the door open, and then click shut, the air in your apartment much colder than it had been.

You stared around, wondering if you could find differences in your home now that Tom had been inside it. Your old theory was clearly correct, because your place had never felt so lonely and empty since you’d moved in. With a frown, you stared at the picture of Glasgow, wondering if in some other time and place, it was taken by you and Tom.


No.5: the incident where everything becomes clear

You actually burst into his apartment, a loud banging noise that sounds like it belongs in a movie. You’re too dramatic, and for reasons only you can understand.

Two heads turn, almost in sync. Blue eyes stare your form up and down, a quirk in his brows, while Tom just screams “Y/N!” It’s more of an exclamation that a question, which prompts Harrison to ask the obvious.

“What are you doing?” It’s so posh coming from him, the accent highlighting the annoyance in his voice. Or maybe it’s confusion, because he seems baffled not only by your presence, but by your urgency.

Tom doesn’t seem to mind. He’s got wide, shining eyes, and a posture that’s halfway out of the chair he was sitting in. He crosses the length between you two in an instant, throwing you off for a second before you regained proper footing.

“What’s wrong?” He questioned, staring you down with those concerned brown hues of his. You wanted to take his face in your hands, and reveal your purpose for being here in the first place.

You were out of breath, from both being so close to him, and from running up three flights of stairs. After getting started on a scouting job earlier this week, you requested half the day off to start finalizing your travel plans. Within the next week you’d be flying into Tokyo and Hong Kong for a few days with Shanghai as a backup plan in case you didn’t get the shots you wanted.

You had been so psyched to start packing and start sharing about your trip, when you came across a moving truck in front of your complex. And lo and behold, you caught the sight of Alice, her arms full of those yellow throw pillows you had seen in his apartment all those weeks ago. Her blue eyes scanned the street until they came to rest on you, shouldering a hand bag that probably cost less than her foundation.

Her eyes turned to steel, lips curved in the most menacing grimace you’d ever seen. Her eyes appeared watery as you came closer, the grimace turning into a full-blown snarl the longer you stayed in her vicinity.

You practcally ran away, heart pounding out of fear. It wasn’t that Alice was mean or nasty towards you; it was that you could understand why she didn’t like you. You didn’t know the specifics of their breakup, but if you could guess, you figured Tom’s affection towards you might have played a factor in it.

The guilt burned your chest, but there was something else there you didn’t understand, something that led you to Tom’s unlocked door. In the awkward silence between you two, you wondered why it was unlocked, and why he didn’t seem to question why you were here. The longer he stared at you, the more your fingers itched, and the more you yearned to touch him.

So you pulled him out of the apartment, his feet tripping over the threshold as the door closed behind him. You caught a glimpse of Harrison’s face, blue eyes shining with mirth before he winked, clicking it shut. Tom turned his head to look back, but you grabbed his cheeks, making him face you.

He opened his mouth to ask something, but the question was caught it his throat. Your lips were suddenly on his, and he shifted closer to you, like it was an instinct. Like he got kissed by breathless girls outside his apartment on a daily basis.

His arms wrapped around your waist, before coiling tightly, his nails digging into your jacket. Your hands left his cheeks, instead falling to the nape of his neck, where you brushed small curls of hair with your knuckles. Everything about kissing Tom felt like fitting into a jigsaw puzzle; you knew exactly where everything went. From your hands to your chest to your lips, every part of you felt in place.

Tom eyes opened as he pulled back, gazing at you like he would a star in the sky. “Why did you do that?” His nearly inaudible voice was shaky, his hands running up and down your sides. He tried to still himself, but you could feel the skittish energy he was trying hard to contain.

You wound your arms around his neck, pressing yourself closer to him. “I don’t actually know,” you told him seriously, a smile in your lips.

He tried to roll his eyes, but he too was smiling at you. “You just did it, because? Just because you could?”

“Because I’ve wanted to for a long time. Because you accidently said last Thursday that you were in love with me. And because I’m in love with you too.”

Tom’s arms dropped and he balked, watching you with a gaping mouth. “You heard that? You heard me say that?” he reiterated, looking you in the eye. When you nodded he groaned, placing his head in his hands. He refused to look at you when you coaxed him out of his shame.

“I can’t believe you knew that,” he muttered, his face turning redder by the second. You tiptoed up and kissed the crown of his head, causing him to peek at you through his fingers.

“I’m sorry you’re embarrassed, but if I didn’t know I’d never have the guts to kiss you,” you compromised, pulling his hands away from his face. “C’mon, this situation isn’t all bad.”

“It’s not bad at all, really,” he sighed, a content smile gracing his lips. “I mean, you did say you were in love with me too, right?”

“Do kisses not mean anything to you Brits? Is that just like, a thing you guys do?” You poked fun at him, earning another small peck on your lips to shut you up. You smiled and laughed, making it messy and causing his lips to end up short squish against your cheek. He rolled with it though, smothering your face with tiny little pecks, squeezing you tight in his arms.

From somewhere in the apartment, Harrison screamed “Finally!”

“Supergirl and Lena coming out to the public with a photoshoot with James that they publish in a CatCo edition for pride month.” from @draconicdivinity


Snapper is utterly unfazed by Kara’s pitch.

A Pride Month edition of CatCo – something Cat Grant herself started years ago – this time featuring National City’s hottest new couple.

A Super and a Luthor.

Finally ready to acknowledge that they’re a couple. That they’re wildly in love.

Lena, secure enough to know that Kara – that Supergirl – hell, that her girlfriend, her girlfriend, will not let her down. Will not love her then leave her, in the public spotlight, no less.

Kara, trusting Lena’s ability to care for herself enough to know that she can handle herself if any threats come down on her for this.

Lena, ready to face her mother’s wrath. Again.

Kara, ready to respond at any and all moments to the call watch Winn had made for Lena – modeled on the one Clark had given James – so that Supergirl will never be the reason Lena is hurt.

“Better spruce up on your ability to write about yourself in the third person, Danvers,” he grumbles, but his almost invisible, wry grin weaves entire tales of the way he lost the bet he had with Cat Grant about when Supergirl and Lena Luthor would be ready to go public with their relationship.

With themselves.

Her hands are shaking the morning James meets them in the studio for their photoshoot, and Lena stills them with her own, with soft kisses to each knuckle.

“We don’t have to do this, Kara,” she tells her for perhaps the hundredth time. “It’s alright if you’re not ready, if – “

“No, no, that’s not it, Lena. I just… Sara isn’t a superhero on this Earth, so… so on this Earth, there really aren’t out queer superheroes. What if everyone starts thinking that I – I don’t know – that I’m the only way to be bi? All that representation, all on me…”

She sighs and she relishes the way Lena listens.

Listens with her full body, her full attention.

This woman who practically lives in her office; this woman who is constantly working, and loves it; this woman whose mind is constantly everywhere at once, who is always so busy that focus is a relative thing.

This woman is focusing, entirely, on her girlfriend, and it sends pleasant tingles down Kara’s spine. It almost makes her stop breathing.

The intensity of what it means to have Lena Luthor pay full attention to her. Her girlfriend, yes, but god, what a powerhouse of a woman.

Kara giggles suddenly, and Lena arches an eyebrow.

“You’re like a superhero, too, you know,” she tells Lena, who laughs open and loud because her girlfriend is utterly ridiculous.

Neither of them notice James clicking away, snapping impromptu photographs of them, incomplete makeup jobs be damned.

These will be better, anyway.

Kara with her hands in Lena’s, smiling earnestly, softly, watching her girlfriend laugh.

“No, I mean it! I was just thinking about… about how brilliant you are, and how many times you’ve saved us all, and how…  how proud I am that you even… noticed me, let alone date me.”

“Kara Danvers, I’ve told you before, and I will tell you every day until you understand why,” Lena bites her lip, the laughter gone from her face now. “You are my hero. Not this cape – although I do love your cape – “

They share a private laugh, and Kara blushes almost as red as the cape currently swept to her side for the photoshoot. “ – because I didn’t know you were bulletproof the first time I laid eyes on you. I didn’t have to. You’re special without all…”

She runs her fingers up and down Kara’s arms, up and down her superhero blue. “… without all this.”

The tears stinging Kara’s eyes blink away as she notices – finally – James snapping away.

“We’re not even through with makeup, James!” Kara pouts, and James just laughs.

“I won’t use any shots you both don’t approve of, you know that. But um, Kara, can I talk to you for a second?”

If James were any other ex of Kara’s, Lena might have bristled. But he is so much more than her ex; he’s her family. So when Kara squeezes Lena’s hands and gets up to follow James, Lena watches with a vague smile, because her heart is hammering with the thrill of finally being out together, the thrill of what Kara just told her, the anticipation of the reception of the piece, the relaxing evening Kara mentioned having planned for tonight.

“Listen, I wanted to – “

“Are you sure you’re okay doing this – “

They both stop and they both laugh and look in opposite directions.

James recovers first.

“I am so happy that you’re happy, Kara. And I’m glad Snapper assigned me to this. It’s a big deal, and it’s… honestly, Kara, it’s an honor. Look.” He shows her the feed from his camera, what he’s taken so far, and Kara gasps.

Lena, running her fingers tenderly down Kara’s suited-up arms.

Lena, hands mixed up with Kara’s, staring at her intently, so intently, that the picture alone makes Kara squirm with delight, with heat, with joyful humility.

Lena, tossing her head back and laughing, with Kara looking at her like she’s the most beautiful woman in the galaxy. And she would know.

“James, they’re beautiful,” she whispers, and he smiles.

“You’re beautiful together, Kara,” he tells her, and Lena’s the one who snaps a picture with her phone when she hugs him.

The rest of the afternoon is full of laughter, full of Kara trying to be intimidating and finally admitting that Alex pulls off the hands-on-hips thing much more confidently than Kara can.

Full of Lena stepping into classic Supergirl poses – eyes serious, arms crossed across her chest; chin tilted upwards, hands on her hips – with Kara, jaw dropped, eyes wide, next to her, a heady combination of amused and turned on.

“Told you you’re a superhero, you do the poses better than me!” Kara stammers when she finds words again, and Lena just laughs, just kisses her cheek, just whispers into her ear about Kara doing the important poses just fine, and the next series of photos is of a blushing, spluttering Supergirl and the human woman who can reduce the unflappable hero into a pile of mush.

When Kara tries to imitate the crisp, efficient, brilliant stance that Lena has at the studio desk, simulating her role as CEO of L Corp, James grins and sighs behind the camera, already anticipating the teasing about that desk that’s going to come from Alex and Maggie and Winn.

And probably some of the social media feeds, as well.

But all of that is inevitable. They’ve discussed it all, they’ve processed it all.

And they’re ready for it all. Together.

So when James still hasn’t quite found a cover photo yet, the one he takes when Kara pulls Lena close and gathers her into her arms – when they’re lost in each other’s eyes so deeply that it seems like they’ve forgotten they’re in a studio, that Kara’s feet might lift off the ground at any moment, and they do, slightly, they do – is what he knows will be the winner, what he knows will reach young queer kids and older queer adults, on the cover of a Pride Edition that is bound to need extra printing.

Because National City’s savior and her superhero girlfriend are redefining heroism as looking lovingly, openly, into someone else’s eyes, and that?

That’s something they’re all very ready for.

The Real Drug War

Drug Wars - You should probably read this first

mafia!Jungkook x Reader

Clever as the devil and twice as pretty.
-Holly Black

Warnings: There will be very explicit sexual content, violence, drugs,…

A/N: For people who read my J JK fic, I’m sorry, you’ll recognize one part - I just really wanted it here. None of these pictures are mine - credits to the owners.

Keep reading

I just feel like some of you kaisoo antis dont even understand tbe EXTENT of what Jongin went through after kaistal was announced.

-His popularity dropped instantly
-Fans were burning his pictures/albums
-Said he was a liar, a fake, a CHEATER
-Some people went so far as to demand he get kicked out of exo and publically apologize
-Some even said he should DIE
-They criticized his looks, his voice, his dancing, his acting. Was once exo’s visual dancing machine, now all of a sudden he’s a horrible singer/actor with a “dick nose” and scary facial expressions when he dances
-Spread false rumors about him, all sexual in nature, had him out here looking like a disgusting clown who receives blow jobs in public pools
-They said he was faking his injury for attention
-They came for his work ethic, saying he injured himself skiing with his gf rather than practicing

These fans literally tore him to pieces and tried to DESTROY him…but the biggest thing youre concerned with is people who think he is truly in love with another man.

He looked absolutely misreable on 4/1.
He avoided answering any questions about kaistal.
He cried so hard during lotte fansign.
He looked misreable for days, weeks afterwards. Didnt smile at all. For weeks.
The first time he smiled, everyone rejoiced cuz it had been so long.

You all act like you know Jongin so much. If you do, then why didnt anyone notice how he wasnt himself for MONTHS after 4/1?
Even after his leg healed, even after the hate died down. He clearly wasnt himself. At all. But he still always smiles whenever he sees “Kaisoo” banners in the crowd.

The past couple months he has been the happiest Ive ever seen since 4/1. His smile has never been brighter.

Go on and continue to ignore Jongin’s obvious change in all of this. Anything to keep your hatred of kaisoo shippers and the idea of them being together alive I guess.