but they find comfort in each other

dating min yoongi would include: 


∙ forehead kisses 

∙ comfortable silences 

∙ teasing ! 

∙ opening up to each other 

∙ sight seeing 

∙ travelling to your dream places together 

∙ yoongi snuggling into you absentmindedly 

∙ slow, passionate kisses 

blushy! yoongi 

∙ “movie day” Sundays

∙ him teaching you piano 

∙ rap battles because yoongi finds it cute to watch you at least try 

totally friends to lovers 

∙ “OK smart ass”

skyping in the early hours of the morning whilst he’s away on tour 

∙ you’re his homescreen 

∙ low key soppy as heck

∙ cute pet names ! e.g baby or cutie 

∙ conspiracy theory video marathons 

∙ back hugs 

∙ blowing yoongi kisses just to watch him get all flustered ^_^

∙ being his no.1 fan because min yoongi

“just let me live sweet pea”  

drawn out goodbyes 

pouty! yoongi 

∙ just…yoongi being utterly adorable when he can’t get his own way

 ∙ “i love you a butt ton” 

road trips [!] 

heck load of jealous yoongz 

neck kisses 

∙ N A P S 

∙ confiding in each other 

∙ just admiring everything about you 

∙ the “calm and unbothered” couple 

∙ secretly taking photos of you when you aren’t looking [he’s cute OK]

∙ both of you babying min holly 

∙ sitting on his lap whilst he wraps his around your middle comfortably 

∙ visiting him at rehearsals 

∙ you’re just a hecking adorable duo + couple [!]


tiny ib: @liegf

masterlist 

s,

oh god. it’s absolutely crazy how fast you can change my mood. i’m not sure what it was or how it happened, but the very moment you came over to talk to me it was like everything changed. the room felt warmer, maybe even a little brighter (maybe that was just the stage lighting but who knows). and honestly? even if our conversations are a little dumb and meaningless, they mean the world to me. learning that we lived not even ten minutes away from each other when we were kids is beyond crazy. i almost find comfort in it. (hopefully it won’t lead me down a sort of spiral- i do tend to believe in fate a little more than i’d like to.) and learning that you’re also a product of divorce really gave me a lot of comfort. it’s not something a lot of people are comfortable with, and you being so blatant about it kinda, i dunno how to phrase it, almost helped me come to terms with myself and my own situation a little. anyway, it’s not like you’ll ever read this but thank you.

see you tomorrow,

b

greyscalepml.tumblr.com
The Ways In Which Love destroys Us

Dan and Phil broke up six years ago, and now they’re trying to love each other again. 

Love. That’s what they’re trying to find. But it’s hard when it’s been so long and they aren’t the same star-struck teenagers that they used to be.

It’s been two months since they got back together and sometimes trying to make things right is all they can do.

when you love someone masterlist

summary: before sirius was sentenced to waste away in azkaban for the rest of his days, he had it all. amazing friends, and an even more amazing significant other. but of course, he loses it all when he betrays the potters, right? with sirius gone, the reader finds comfort in the only person they have left. remus. 

Originally posted by heartsnmagic

part one

part two

part three

bonus

will be updated with each new installment.

Falling in love is no simple task.

Sure, there are many beautiful women out there that catch your eye.

But what makes love so special is that it’s about a connection. It’s more than skin deep. 

Love is about being vulnerable.

Love is about finding your best friend.

That’s why you have to create opportunities to fall in love.

Find activities to do together. Of course you should go on dates and do things that are your common interests…

…but going beyond your comfort zone and doing something new is an excellent way to grow as a couple.

Look for exciting activities that you can both share, like going on a roller coaster or watching a scary movie. 

These intense experiences create a bond. 

Plus, when she’s scared she might just snuggle closer to you!

Ask each other questions. Find out where she’d like to be in ten years. 

Ask her about her life and talk about art together.

See how you both interpret things.

Remember, it’s not about having the same opinions but rather learning to see the world anew through someone else’s eyes.

-lance’s guide to falling in love

bonus: how to look cool

Here’s another “friendly” reminder that the LGBTQIA+ community is not a fucking pissing contest to see who suffers the most oppression. The only people who do not belong in the LGBTQIA community are heterosexual, hetero-romantic, cisgender people (as in, ticking all three categories).

You’re biromantic, asexual, cis? You’re in.
Bisexual aro enby? Definitely in.
Asexual, aromantic, intersex? STILL IN.

Our community is built on inclusion and love. Finding peace and comfort with each other when we can’t find it elsewhere.

Stop fucking gatekeeping. You look like an asshole. You don’t get to decide who can or cannot be part of the community. We are not some elite club, where each member must adhere to some standard of queerness.

It’s not a competition. Fucking stop acting like it.

I’m such a sucker for a slowly developed drarry relationship.

They don’t do the whole “let’s go on dates and gradually get together.” Instead, they get roomed together and after being furious about it for a while, they get used to it.

It just hits Harry one day that Draco makes his bed with a flick of his wand every morning, because Harry always forgets.

It hits Draco one day that Harry always brings him sandwiches when he misses dinner because he’s studying or too overwhelmed to go.

Harry realizes that he hasn’t been waking up from nightmares as often because Draco has started patting his hair when he’s going through it in the middle of the night.

Draco realizes that he and Harry just randomly started sharing the box of chocolates and sweets Mother sends him and without knowing he started placing the box on his desk so Harry could find it easily if he ever wanted one.

And then one day Harry walks into their dorm drunk off his arse and collapses on Draco’s bed instead of his and knocks out. Draco, much to his own horror, finds that he doesn’t mind and falls as sleep as well.

Harry never sleeps again in his own bed.

And then Draco wears Harry’s muggle band tee to bed when the house elves misplace his laundry one night… which yes… it’s a bit short for him, but “it’s comfortable, Potter.” “But Malfoy, they already found your clothes.” “I said it’s comfortable.” (And it smells like you, too… he doesn’t say that though).

And it just becomes natural to sit next to each other in the common room and do their work, or go watch the stars when they both can’t sleep.

They hold hands absentmindedly now, when they’re both working and focused on their essays. At some point boundaries at bed time are lost and tentative legs tangle beneath the sheets.

Hermione questions him about it, Harry pretends he doesn’t know what she’s talking about. Too scared to question it and lose what he has. Too scared Malfoy will push him away.

(It’s okay though, because one day during the Christmas hols, Draco kisses him after the unwraps his gift and Harry kisses back, just as fiercely).

Things I will never get sick of reading in 8th year fics…

  • Harry giving Draco his wand back, their fingers lingering at the hand off
  • 8th year shared common room 
  • Harry and Draco being assigned as roommates
  • And at first its so awkward and strained but then they realize if they stop fighting about everything they actually get along fairly well
  • that moment Harry sees Draco in his pajamas for the first time; its early morning and Draco’s hair is falling around his face in soft looking wisps, there are pillow lines on his cheek and he looks younger, softer somehow, and its the first time Harry has ever seen him without any facade.  It makes him question everything he thinks he knows about the other boy.
  • Or the first time Draco sees Harry asleep, and of course he’s used to seeing Harry casual and relaxed so its not even the sight of him curled in his bed in just a pair of pajama pants and a worn Chudley Canons shirt that throws him off kilter, it’s just that he’s not used to seeing him so open.  It does something to Draco, watching Harry’s face as he sleeps, hes so exposed laying there without the brave face he puts on for everyone else.  It makes something inside of him break.
  • MIDNIGHT SEEKERS GAMES
  • which ofc lead to each one of them trying not to notice what the other one looks like with flushed cheeks and windswept hair; what they look like when they’re really free and happy and how much it shocks them to realize that they want to be able to make the other one look that happy too
  • Party Games Trope need I say more
  • Harry helping Draco learn how to cast a Patronus
  • Harry and Draco comforting each other from nightmares because its so much easier to talk about it in the middle of the night when no one can see you, as if the darkness protects you from your truths
  • EVERYTHING.  Seriously give me every damn thing about 8th year and Harry and Draco growing and healing and finally being free to be teenagers and have fun and be silly and goof around and discover themselves and find love and finally, fucking finally, find happiness; to find each other.

Harry laughed happily as he landed on the grass. Draco was only seconds behind him clutching the snitch with a massive grin on his face.
“Good one, Draco.”
“Oh, it wasn’t really a good one. Pretty easy actually.” Draco drawled with a smirk.
Harry laughed again as he shoved Draco’s shoulder. “Whatever, that dive was pretty amazing.” Draco’s smirk became a proud smile. “Come on, let’s go eat something. I’m starving!” Harry said.
The smile morphed into a frown. “No. We each won one, it’s a draw. We have to play another.”
Harry grinned at him. “Let’s leave it a draw.”
Draco arched a brow. “Scared Potter?”
Laughing, Harry slung an arm around his friends shoulders. “Yes, scared you’ll pout and ignore me all day when I beat you.”
Draco sniffed. “First of all, I am not so petty. And who says you’d win anyway? So arrogant, Harry.”
Harry laughed and squeezed his friend in a hug. “Yeah. I’m the arrogant here, Draco.”
Draco gently bumped the side of his head against Harry’s as they walked to the castle. “So long as you know.”

On the following Sunday they found themselves trudging through a mountain of homework, much to Harry’s displeasure. Ron and Hermione had gone for a picnic on the grounds, since Hermione always made sure they were up to date on their work. Sighing Harry dropped his head heavily against the couch. Draco, who was curled up in the corner of the couch next to him, looked up with an arched brow. “Giving up already?”
Harry groaned and closed his eyes. “Yes.” He jerked up when he felt Draco flick him between the eyes. “Hey!” He protested, rubbing the sore spot with his fingers.
“You’d better keep going. Don’t think that you can leave it and get me to help you just because Granger won’t let you fly until it’s done.” He went back to looking at his book.
Harry turned to him with wide eyes. “That is a fantastic idea.” When Draco just let out a soft laugh but otherwise ignored him, Harry moved so he could lie leaning comfortably against Draco’s side. He closed his eyes and let out a relieved sigh.
“Potter!” Draco groaned. “I am absolutely not doing your work for you.” But he didn’t move or shove Harry off, which Harry knew he wouldn’t. After several blissful minutes, right when Harry was sure he was on the cusp of a wonderful dream, he fell to the floor as Draco stood up. He pointed a finger accusingly at Harry, “Do some work, Harry. Or we will go to the library.”
Sighing in defeat, Harry sat up and faced his books once more.

Hours later they were sitting in front of the crackling fire eating Bertie Botts beans. Draco was sprawled across a single seat with his legs hanging across the side while Harry sat on the floor with his legs crossed and back against Draco’s seat. Draco had the box of beans and alternated between taking one and lowering the box for Harry.
Ron and Hermione entered the common room with cheerful greetings. Harry appreciated everyone’s efforts to get along, since he knew it was only for his sake, but he did wish his three best friends were more than just polite to one another.
“Did you have a good picnic?” Draco asked them.
“Oh, yes it was lovely thanks.” Hermione smiled at him. Ron nodded a bit awkwardly at him.
“Oh, Harry. You’ll never guess what.” Ron started, and Hermione shot him a suspicious look. “We saw Terry there, he was in the middle of a big fight, seems like him and his boyfriend broke up.” Hermione’s look of suspicion became one of horror as she tugged on Ron’s hand. Harry’s stomach dropped as he willed Ron not to continue. But he did. “So he’s single now, and you can finally ask him out. I know you used to have a massive crush on him.”
Harry closed his eyes, but the thick silence wouldn’t be ignored. He was so glad he couldn’t see Draco’s expression at that moment. There had been a hundred moments when he meant to come out to Draco. It wasn’t that he was embarrassed or anything. It was just that he really enjoyed their friendship. He didn’t know how they’d become so
comfortable touching each other all the time, but he was scared that it would change if Draco knew. He opened his eyes to find Ron looking from him to Hermione with confusion brewing in his eyes. Hermione was watching Draco carefully, which could only mean that he most definitely wasn’t looking at them.
Harry sighed internally. He cleared his throat. “Uh, thanks.”
Hermione looked at him pitifully and quickly started talking about their day, filling the silence as best she could. She asked about how their studies went, Harry responded and Draco said a word or two.
After suffering through it as long as he could, Harry wished everyone good night. He couldn’t bring himself to look at Draco as he left, but let his hand trail along his shoulder as he walked passed.

The next morning, Harry lingered in bed. If he could, he’d avoid seeing Draco all day. Unfortunately, his last class was potions where they were partners. At breakfast he managed to get away with only a smile and a wave since Draco sat at the Slytherin table still. Harry tried hard to focus on his lessons all day, but he couldn’t deny he was nervous to see him.
When he arrived in potions at the end of the day, Draco was already there with all the ingredients for the days potion. He was chopping furiously when Harry reached him. “Hi, Draco.” He said nervously, fidgeting with the strap on his bag.
“Hi, Potter.” Draco glanced up with a small smile. After a few seconds he rolled his eyes. “Are you going to help or do you expect me to do all the work?”
Harry could have laughed with relief, but he didn’t. He gave Draco a grateful smile which was returned with a small quirk of the lips and they got to work.
The rest of the lesson passed in the same manner as the ones before. After, they walked together to dinner and Harry felt relieved. Until he couldn’t find Draco anywhere after dinner. He went to bed with a sinking feeling.

The week passed in the same pattern. The only time that Harry really saw Draco was during potions, his behavior seemingly unchanged. But Harry missed him. After potions on Friday Harry had had enough. As they walked together to dinner he blurted out. “Where have you been all week?” Grey eyes glanced up from the floor to meet his before flickering away. “I can never find you after dinner.” He said accusingly.
Draco answered softly. “I’ve had detention every day.”
“What?” Harry asked, reaching out to grab Draco’s arm. “For what?”
Turning to face Harry, Draco sighed. “You know how it is, some teachers will make up reasons to punish me.”
Harry frowned and opened his mouth to express his outrage when Draco gave him a defeated smile. “It doesn’t matter. Okay?”
Harry deflated. Draco twitched his arm awkwardly and Harry realized he was still holding him. He let go quickly but noticed the blush on Draco’s cheeks.
He deflated a little more.

On Saturday morning when Harry returned from breakfast he found Draco in the common room with his homework. After fetching his own, he sank down on the couch next to him.
Draco shifted to make more room for him.
After working for a little while Draco got up to get a different textbook and settled down again on the single couch. Harry frowned. He wouldn’t have thought anything about it before, but..
He sighed heavily and tried to focus on his work.

The next day he found himself working alone in the library. When he returned to the common room he found Draco curled up on the single couch with a book. He looked up when Harry entered and frowned slightly. “Where were you today?” He asked.
Harry shrugged, struggling to meet his eyes. “Thought I’d concentrate better in the library.” He moved to walk past where Draco was sitting, when Draco’s hand shot out as if to grab his hand but stopped suddenly, quivered in the air for a moment before disappearing just as fast.
Harry hesitated briefly. With a disappointed sigh he carried on walking.
“Harry.” Draco said.
Harry half turned to face him, an eyebrow raised. Draco cleared his throat. “Would you like to go fly for a bit?” Harry frowned skeptically, unsure of what how he wanted to respond. “There’s enough time for at least one game to end our draw before the light goes.” Draco said, smiling uncertainly. And that’s what got to Harry.
“Yeah, alright.” He answered finally.

The walk to the quidditch pitch was filled with awkward silence. At least it was for Harry. Once they were flying though, Harry felt better.
The light started to go quickly and Harry was scanning rather desperately for the snitch, it was the one he had caught in first year and he was rather sentimental about it. A glint of gold caught his eye and he dove toward it. As he neared it he saw Draco coming in from a different angle, slightly ahead of him. He pushed forward, urging his broom to go faster. At the last moment, he realized Draco would get there first and Harry would barrel into him soon after. Unfortunately, the last moment didn’t give him enough time to stop or change direction. All he could do was slow down to soften the impact.
Thankfully they were low to the ground so when they tumbled over one another and onto the grass, it wasn’t too hard a fall. They rolled and Harry landed half on Draco’s chest with a massive groan. Draco was gasping heavily. Harry lifted himself to quickly pat Draco down for injuries and once he was satisfied that he was fine he fell half onto Draco’s chest again. They caught their breath in silence.
It was the happiest Harry had been all week. Until Draco said, “Two one, Potter.” Harry looked up to see Draco clutching the snitch with a triumphant grin. He laughed and pushed himself up onto an elbow.
“You can’t tell me this one was an easy win.” Harry teased.
“No, I can’t.” Draco chuckled and smiled at Harry. Harry smiled back, happy to have his friend back. He noticed the pink tinge on Draco’s cheeks as Draco’s eyes flickered away and he shifted awkwardly. Harry sat up quickly and Draco scooted away from Harry. His heart sank.
Draco cleared his throat, “Well, let’s go back.” He stood up and retrieved his broom. Harry sat there with his knees bent and his elbows resting on his knees, drowning in unhappiness. He wasn’t going to get his easy friendship back. Draco had walked a few paces back toward the castle when he turned around. “Harry?” He said tentatively.
Harry sighed. “I can’t do this, Draco.” He shoved his hands in his hair and looked away, frustrated.
Draco frowned and came back. “What do you mean?” He asked softly.
“I mean I want you to just freak out about the fact that I didn’t tell you and be honest if you have a problem with who I am. I can’t take this dancing around it. I miss you.” He bit his lip to stop himself. After a long pause he looked up to find Draco staring at him in shock.
“You think I have a problem with who you are?” He asked quietly, which set warning bells off in Harry’s head. “You think I’ve been acting strange because I don’t accept this part of you.” He added. Then he laughed, a self deprecating sound that Harry knew well. Draco lifted a hand to his forehead. “Why wouldn’t you? It’s the obvious conclusion.” He laughed again, a little hysterically this time, which broke Harry out of his daze. He stood up and slowly approached him.
“Well, if it’s not that then what is it?” He asked.
Draco closed his eyes briefly before meeting Harry’s eyes. Harry watched a flush creep up his neck as he seemed to search for words. “Well, I couldn’t exactly be mad at you for not telling me when I’ve been keeping the exact same secret.” His cheeks were a deep pink now. Harry’s ears were ringing.
“What?” He whispered, disbelieving.
Draco gave him a sheepish smile. “Sorry.” Harry could only stare at him. Draco swallowed nervously. “Anyway, I was trying to find the right time to tell you about me. But, as you know, it’s not easy.” He laughed awkwardly again. “And somehow knowing about you made my little crush seem less impossible which is stupid, really I know, so I was just giving myself a bit of space to dispel that illusion. That’s why I got detention everyday. I couldn’t focus, I was useless in class.” His gaze was flickering from Harry’s shoulder, his collar to his throat. Anywhere but his eyes. After a fortifying breath Draco added. “Our friendship is important to me. I didn’t want to mess it up.”
Harry was confused. He was shocked. But he knew that that made him happy. He pulled Draco towards him and wrapped him in a tight hug. “I missed you, you idiot.”
Draco melted into the hug which made Harry’s heart soar. They stood like that for a long time. Eventually Draco pulled back, much to Harry’s regret. Harry searched his gaze. “It’s not impossible, you know. Or an illusion.” He whispered.
Draco’s breath caught. Harry smiled at him. “I don’t think.” Harry amended. But as he watched the moonlight play over Draco’s features he thought it was probably extremely possible. Probable in fact.
Draco watched Harry watch him for the longest time. His look of shock slowly abated until Harry was staring at Draco’s trademark smirk. “You’d better not think that counts as asking me out, because my standards are considerably higher than that.” Harry laughed and Draco smiled before adding, “I’m serious.” With that he turned and started toward the castle. Harry scrambled to catch up.
“I’ll write a poem.” He said.
Draco groaned. “Please don’t. I’m pretty set on saying yes. Don’t make that hard for me to do.”
Harry grinned. Feeling bold, he reached out to grab Draco’s hand as they walked forward. He let out a content sigh when Draco laced their fingers together.

Feysand Growing up HC

-What if Rhys and Feyre were raised in Velaris together?

-Being economically successful, Feyre’s father is close friends with the High Lord. Both  their respective wife and mate have children around the same time. 

-The Merchant’s daughter and the High Lord’s son are practically raised in unison.

-They nap together. They take their first steps together. They’re potty-trained together. They share toys as toddlers. They finger paint together. They take naps together. They take lessons from Rhys’s mother. Basically, they live together. 

-When they’re 3 months old, they’re sharing a crib and boom the bond clicks. Though, not so boom because they’re babies and they don’t feel it.

- Their parents don’t know because the only thing they notice is that their kids are now sleeping right next to each other. 

-They become an iconic childhood duo.

-The one thing everyone wonders, though, as the two run down the Rainbow, is “When is their mate bond gonna snap?”

-Feyre and Rhys can’t tell, they just believe that this is what a best friend is supposed to be like, since Rhys’s parents are their only mate example.

-When Rhys starts to learn how to fly, Feyre is pissed. Her dialogue for two weeks is a relentless stream of “This is not fair.” “Why do you get to fly?” “You’re not even grateful, you prick.” “I want to fly.” “Why can’t you take me with you?”

-Rhys, being a child, sticks his tongue out at her.

-Momma Rhys watches from the kitchen. Once Feyre storms out, she calls to Rhys, “You are not my boy if you don’t go out of your way to take a female in your life flying.”

-Momma trains her son real quick in the art of carrying someone else while flying. 

-The dispute is solved.

-After years of the best childhood ever, Rhys’s mom declares that she’s raising her son as an Illyrian. 

-Feyre and Rhys say their goodbyes, and when he’s finally gone it hurts

-They both write it off as distance from their best friend. 

-For a few years, they remain pen pals. 

-”Remember that savage, Cassian? We are starting to get along.” 

-”My sister Nesta is becoming almost intolerable now. I miss your mom.”

-”My mother says hello. She misses you too. We have a new addition in our home. His name’s Azriel. He’s very quiet.”

-”I wish you could come and take me flying.”

 -Slowly, they piddle out until one of these letters becomes the last.

-Feyre’s family loses their status, not to the starving devastation of ACOTAR, but enough so that they fall out with the High Lord. 

-Rhys finds comfort in Cassian, Azriel, Mor, and Amren. Feyre becomes a recluse, until the tale of the Merchant’s daughter and the High Lord’s son becomes an obsolete story.

-Feyre and Rhys try romantic relationships with others, but they always fall short. 

-Years later, after the blood rite, Rhys returns from the camps.

-A large party is thrown in his honor, and neither looks for one another.  But, like a compass that always points North, somehow the two find each other. 

-It’s as if they were spinning in circles for years, stumbling, trying to recover, until they smile at each other. 

-The looks hits hard, only comparable to the instant when the world seems rightside-up again after all that turning. 

-It’s a night like no other. Years have passed, but they recognize each other. Conversion is easy. They don’t sleep, talking all night. 

-When he leaves again and the pain that faded all those years ago becomes incredibly strong once more, they know. 

-Rhys doesn’t even question his duties before he hauls ass back to Velaris letting the tug in his chest drag him through the city. 

-She sits alone at a café, slowly nursing a tea to ignore the ache growing in her chest. 

-No thoughts pass through his mind as he dives down and collides at full force with the street outside the little fence that surrounds the café patio. 

-A large cloud of dust forms. People scream and hide. Chaos ensues for fear of attack.

-Feyre stands calmly, throws a leg over the fence, and walks into the cloud. 

-Rhys looks around like a wildcat for her.

-She sees him. She loses her breath. A cataclysmic force runs through both of them as the bond snaps fully at their eye contact. 

-”There you are. I’ve been looking for you.”

-They’re in each other’s arms. They’re flying. They’re laughing. They’re kissing because oh gods it makes sense. All the years, the friendship, the pain. It makes sense. 

-”I can’t believe it,” Rhys says, breathless in-between kisses, “it was you. All this time it was you.”

-More kissing, sloppy kisses as they grin like fools. 

-”I’m glad it’s you,” Feyre whispers.

-He leans his forehead on hers. “Me, too. Darling. Me, too.”

I don’t think Nico and Will got together because they were opposites. 

I don’t think they got together because Will was a happy sunray and Nico was this dark hurting kid. 

I think they got together because Will was the only person who talked to Nico without fear. 

I think they got together because even though he’s not a fighter, Will knew how to fight for what’s right, and for what he wants. 

I think they got together because Will was the first to call Nico out on his bullshit. 

I think they got together because they both understand death. They’ve both lost people. They’ve both experienced the trauma of war. 

I think they got together because they both knew depression and what it could do. 

I think they got together because they were both hardened by wars that weren’t meant to be theirs to fight, because they both understood loss, because they both understood what it was to try your best and fail. By which I mean, Nico had always tried so hard to fir in and couldn’t because of his powers. Will must have tried so hard to save people in the wars and failed, unable to save all of them. 

Nico comforts Will because death is inevitable. Will comforts Nico because he shows him he isn’t alone. 

These two aren’t together because they’re different, but because they’re the same. 

Everyone paints Will to be this happy, jokey, super-safe doctor, but my gods, did we read the same books? Did you see how feisty he is? How reckless he can be? How he lets Nico push his boundaries, and is only there to stop him from going too far? This boy reattaches limbs, and he can get entire armies to stop fighting and listen just by whistling. 

No, Will Solace is not this happy-go-lucky sunshine boy. He puts on a happy front, but you think that doesn’t go away? You think Nico doesn’t find himself comforting Will as much as Will comforts him? You think Will Solace doesn’t break down over the death of people he cares about, people he couldn’t save? You think this pain, this understanding of the shitty life they have to live isn’t what made them compatible? 

Nico shows it more, but Will is hurt too. And that’s why they’re so good for each other. 

Bad End: Grog gets fully possessed by Kas, teams up with Arkhan, and together as evil jock boyfriends they wreak havoc upon Exandria 

Good End: Grog gets separated from Kas, and Kas gets banished to the same plane as Craven Edge, where the two swords connect to each other in having the same ex-boyfriend and find comfort and solace in each other, slowly learning to trust and love each other over time, healing together from the pain of their past breakups

True End: Grog keeps Kas, gets Craven Edge back, and duel wields them while dedicating his life to hunting down his arch nemesis and greatest love Arkhan, whilst also dealing with both Kas and Craven Edge fighting for his affection 

I Thought You Were Already Married

So, no one asked for a part two butttt I decided to write it anyways. You don’t have to read part one to understand it. This can be read as a stand alone. If you would like to read part one, here you go.

——————————————————————-


               “Harry, you have to go in.” Sirius told his godson firmly. He tried to remain stern but the pleading green eyes of the three-year-old was hard to ignore.

                “What if they don’t like me.” The sniffle and wobbling lip was always his weakness. Merlin, where was Remus when he needed him? “What if no one wants to be my friend?”

                Sirius sighed heavily as he kneeled on the ground and cupped Harry’s cheeks. “You are going to make many friends. Probably too many to count.” He smiled softly at the wonder in those bright eyes. “Even if for some crazy reason, you don’t make a friend, I’ll always be your friend. Isn’t that enough?”

                “No.” Came the quick reply. It had Sirius rolling his eyes at his sassy godson. Harry must get that from Remus.

                “Why can’t Moony be here? He wouldn’t make me go in.”

                That had Sirius dropping his hands in defeat and adopting a pout. “I see how it is, Remus is your favorite.”

                When Harry nodded his head, Sirius let out a playful growl. “You aren’t supposed to agree!” He tickled Harry and relished the joyful squeals the boy released. He couldn’t fault Harry for preferring Remus over him. The werewolf was his favorite person too.

                “If you go in there, I promise that I’ll let you help me cheer up Remus when you get home.” Harry didn’t understand anything about the full moon or what was going on but he was smart enough at his age to know that the full moon makes Remus sad. The man was resting in bed recovering after yesterday’s transformation.

                By the way Harry’s eyes lit up and a soft gasp escaped, he knew that he had won. Despite this, he couldn’t help but pray to any higher power that Harry really would make a friend. Any friend would do.

———————————————————————

Keep reading

Borrowed Time

The series where Harry is mute

Part 1

Masterlist linked in bio


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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But this morning—this morning is different.

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

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

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

And he’s just not having it.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“H—Harry, the phone.” Y/n gasps.

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

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

“Hi, Harry, it’s your mum.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Maybe, it’ll actually be different this time.


It’s not different.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Y/n nods without hesitation, “He is.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He just can’t.

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

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


Harry knows his father was right.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Before what was going to happen, Harry?”

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

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

Borrowed time.

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

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

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

But what is happening to them?

“How long have you thought that?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Stop the car.”

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

“I said stop the fucking car, Harry!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It really is over now.

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

She feels easy.

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

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

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

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

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

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

She hates him.

But it’s better this way.

MASTERLIST 2.0

KIM SEOKJIN

TEXTS

Cheers you up after a hard day (+ Jungkook)

Cuddles

Pranking Jin with lyrics

SERIES

MIN  YOONGI / SUGA

TEXTS

Yoongi confesion

Yoongi comforts you for your height

Teasing each other (+ maknae line)

You fight over Yoongi’s ex

Hate/love relationship

Yoongi accidentaly confesses (group chat)

Yoongi thinks you’re cheating

Teasing a jealous min yoongi

Yoongi overprotective brother

Best friends to lovers

You ask for attention. [Yoongi, Taehyung and Hoseok]

SERIES

Been waiting enough (if this is what you call love) PT.1 PT 2. PT. 3

JUNG HOSEOK / JHOPE

TEXTS

Hobi teases you for your blog

Hate/love relationship with Hoseok.

You ask for attention. [Yoongi, Taehyung and Hoseok]

Hoseok cheats on you

SERIES

Burn me alive (Keep me by your side) PT. 1 PT. 2 PT. 3 PT. 4 PT. 5

KIM NAMJOON / RAP MONSTER

TEXTS

Meme theories Part 2.

Namjoon being a sassy shit.

You ask your brother Namjoon to pick you up

4 o’clock appreciation (+Taehyung)

Fuckboy texts

Namjoon hurts your feelings.

Namjoon fight + surprise ending

Namjoon’s dimples.  

Random Namjoon texts

SERIES

Let me stay (I won’t go away): PT.1 PT.2 PT. 3 PT. 4

PARK JIMIN

TEXTS

Jimin forgets your date

Gangster

SERIES

Texting an unknown number: PT.1 PT.2 PT. 3 PT. 4

KIM TAEHYUNG / V

TEXTS

Hate/love relationship.

Needy Taehyung.

Comforts you after a nightmare

4 o’clock appreciation (+Namjoon)

Jealous Taehyung angsty

Taehyung comforts you after your cats death.

You ask for attention. [Yoongi, Taehyung and Hoseok]

Taehyung thinks you’re cheating  PT 1. PT 2.

Jealous Taehyung (humor)

What just happened texts

SERIES

Hold me tight (don’t hold me back) [+ Jungkook] P.1 P.2 P.3 P.4 PT 5 PT 6.

JEON JUNGKOOK

TEXTS

Soft boyfriend

Cheers you up after a hard day (+ Jin)

- BTS + GOT7, jealous jungkook.  PART 2.

Confession

Skinship

Happy birthday

Random texts

Jeongguk mentions marriage

SERIES

Hold me tight (don’t hold me back) [+ Taehyung] P.1 P.2 P.3 P.4 P 5. PT 6.

Texting an unknown number. PT. 1

OT7

BTS finds who is your bias.

Pick up lines

Borrowing their clothes

You ask for attention. [Yoongi, Taehyung and Hoseok]

GROUP CHAT

You feel insecure about your weight

BTS encourages you while fasting.

BTS helps you lose weight

Yoongi accidentaly confesses

BTS find out your boyfriend cheated

BTS cheers you up after a nose surgery

Happy birthday texts

BTS + GOT7, jealous jungkook.

Random texts

Teasing each other.

Funny texts with bts.

BTS comforts you

HYUNG LINE

Soft  fanfics

Accidentaly send them naughty pictures

You’re being followed

They try to help you with your writes block

MAKNAE LINE

Spying their little sister

Teasing each other (+ Yoongi)

Soft fanfics (maknae)

Soft fanfics (95z line)

Accidentaly send them naughty pictures

Jealous maknae line

Nudes

RAP LINE

Break up prank

MEMBER x MEMBER

vmin

POLY RELATIONSHIP

Sugamon: You miss them (suga and namjoon)

WRONG CHAT SERIE (OT7 VERSION)

Jimin pt 1.  PT 2.

Yoongi PT.1 PT. 2 FINAL

Taehyung PT 1. PT 2.

REACTIONS

BTS Reaction to you wearing their clothes.

BTS Reaction to you having a panic attack

BTS Reaction to you kissing them by accident

BTS Reaction to you asking them to model naked.

BTS Reaction to their drunk girlfriend telling them she has a boyfriend.

BTS Reaction to their crush kissing their cheek

BTS Reaction to you asking them to help you get dressed.

BTS reaction to you getting shy over public skinship

BTS Reaction to their s/o getting insulted on TV.

SCENARIOS

No happy birthday for the birthday girl. (OT7)

Two dreams one life (Jimin)

Trust (Yoongi)

OTHER STUFF

Yoongi as a vampire

BTS as cats

BTS as things my friends have said. 2 3

MOODBOARDS

Jimin art

Nap(sleep time) taekook

Jhope sunshine moodboard

Soft brown yoonseok moodboard

Vkook bros

Couple fashion board with Taehyung

Dark green namjoon

Namjoon coffee dates

Taehyung sunflower yellow

Eleven and Hopper’s relationship honestly gives me so much life. It’s literally about two people who have been alone for so long and have suffered so much, and how they finally found comfort in each other. Hopper lost his daughter and closed himself off to anyone only to find himself as Eleven’s surrogate father who he cares about so much. And Eleven, who has never had a real parent in her life, finally found one in Hopper. Literally, the scene where she reaches for his hand both in the car and when she’s about to close the gate makes me so emo. And when Hopper kisses her head afterwards, it just kills me. I was literally hoping for this development in season 1 but I thought it was such a reach, I’ve been so blessed 

Ok hear me out on this big FAT gay

It’s the Losers Club senior year of high school, all of them are 18 and stressed about being adults and It’s prom season

  • Eddie musters up the courage to ask a girl out for the first time with the help of a bunch of super supportive Losers
  • On the night of prom she bails on him because she couldn’t be seen with someone so “uncool”
  • That would have been his first date.
  • Everyone in the Losers club tries to convince him to go anyways even though he’s absolutely heartbroken but they’re all dead set on cheering him up.
  • Most of the night the Losers take turns dancing with him and keeping him company all together
  • It comes to a slow song and everyone else has a dance partner besides Eddie.
  • He gets really upset and uncomfortable and rushes out to the empty hallway and cries because he’s a pussy bitch baby boy and feels really alone and scared that the rest of his life is going to be like this
  • After Richie notices he’s gone he immediately wants to go after him.
  • Richie spent the entire night checking up on Eddie so his obviously his date is like “What the fuck we can’t even have one slow dance without you leaving to check on him? Wow, maybe you should have brought him as your date instead.”
  • that makes him super fucking pissed because that’s his best friend and he’s like “yeah maybe I should have taken him instead of your gremlin looking ass, go choke on a fat one”
  • Once he finds Eddie crying in the hallway he comforts him and they have a huge feelings jam and Eddie’s sniffling and goes “I’ve never even gotten to dance with anyone before”
  • And Richie goes alright get up right here right now we’re doing this shit
  • So they slow dance in the empty hallway while muffled ‘Forever Young’ plays from the closed auditorium doors
  • After a bit Beverly goes to check on the both of the boys and gives em that 👀👀👀👀 LOOK
  • They scramble away from each other and their faces are as red as Satans asscheeks and then pretend it didn’t happen