didn't proofread this

anonymous asked:

hey I just wanted you to know a fairly big youtuber made a really gross video about the LGBT+ posts and is just accumulating anti's to be against it (though he says hes not hes still giving those people a voice/excuse). here is the video if you wanna let people know or report it put this after the youtube URL /watch?v=Rc2mIXzEgeQ

Eh, it’s the same thing with that other in-game post (though the guy in the video is much more of an obnoxious prick about it):

The emphasis in the picture is “Keep your POLITICS out of my SPLATOON,” but usually what they really mean is: “Keep YOUR politics out of MY game.”

Too many gamers balk at anything even remotely “political” showing up in what’s supposed to their form of escapism. Like the guy in the video said, he plays games to get away from those kinds of topics, presumably because he can’t handle them and doesn’t want to bother. He says he has no issue with any LGBTQ+ people (lol okay buddy) but he gets mad at the posts and starts reporting all the supportive stuff as innappropriate and laughs at anything mocking or slightly jokey about the topic.

I don’t recommend watching btw, because it’s just… dumb. It’s all the same boring, unoriginal tripe about “muh escapism” and “kids game.” As if there aren’t trans/genderfluid/queer kids, or like kids can’t handle the fact that someone can be attracted to someone of the same gender, or as if those people aren’t also using the game to escape from the real world kicking their shit in on a daily basis because of things they can’t control about themselves. The mere acknowledgement of certain peoples’ existence has been politicized, and since there’s a lot of real world debate going on around those things people like this guy get mad when they show up in the media they use to ignore that. But then turn around and play some shit like this (yes, it’s Metal Gear Solid 2), turn off their brains, and say “Ah yes, this is the good, apolitical stuff.” It’s like that Gundam meme:

These dudes need to get over themselves. It’ll be the same people who get upset about “snowflakes needing safe spaces” that get mad because people express themselves in games like this. Like, bruh, you really thought queer people or trans people, or PoC didn’t play games too? Get the fuck outta here. Ignore it if you’re gonna ignore it, but don’t be no salty bitch about it.

oh hey I’m rambling but yeah, fuck that guy I guess, whatever.

Hwa Yang Yeon Hwa The Notes: Jin

13 June YEAR 22

After returning from that sea, we were all alone.

Like it was all set, we didn’t contact each other. We only assumed the existence of each other from the graffiti on the streets, the gas station lighting brightly, the piano sound from the old building. Every time like that, the afterimage of that night came back to haunt me like a phantom. Taehyung’s pupils that blazed with fire, all the eyes that looked at me as if hearing an unbelievable story, Namjoon’s hands that stopped Taehyung, and me who couldn’t endure and threw my fists towards Taehyung.

After Taehyung ran away, we couldn’t find him, no one stayed at the seaside dorm after returning. The broken glass cup, the bloodstain that was starting to get clotted, the crumbled snack pieces, they only reminded us of what happened few hours ago. A photo fell down then. It was the photo we took at the sea, smiling together.

I passed by the gas station today. One day we will meet again. One day we will smile together like we did in that photo. One day I will gather the courage to face myself. But now, it is not the time yet. The humid wind blew today, just like that day. And the next moment, my phone rang like a warning. The photo hanging on the mirror of my room was shaking. Hoseok’s name appeared on the screen.

“Hyung, Jungkook got into an accident that night.”

it’s so weird to see people online say that they think all gay people are prone to “morally judgmental black and white thinking” when that’s just… not the lived experience of any gay people I know. most of us if not all of us are constantly interacting with people who hold a low level hatred for us and we don’t have any kind of choice in that. most of the time it’s “my coworker told me she thinks all lesbians are ugly and gross but most of the time she’s really funny so I forgot about it” or “my relative told me he thinks all gay people should be sterilized and put through conversion therapy, but he’s usually pretty nice to talk to at family functions”. like as gay people we’re constantly compromising on our safety/comfort/mental health for the sake of convenience and familiarity so maybe if you think we all judge celebrities or tumblr users too harshly based on a few microaggressions maybe consider the fact that in real life we hardly ever get to control the kind of environment we live in

I don’t buy it - Jon isn’t “a northern fool”


I just don’t buy it. I still believe that Jon is playing Danielle (btw we are using this name so it won’t show up in the search, not as an insult), going “undercover” as he did with the wildlings, to ensure she helps against the white walkers. Want to know why? Keep reading, but I warn you this got … very, very, very long. 

Keep reading

I'll Always Write Back [Connor Murphy x Reader]

Title: I’ll Always Write Back

Pairing: Connor Murphy x Reader

Fandom: Dear Evan Hansen

Requested: by the lovely @the-murphy-family

Summary: Connor and the reader are friends online, but then find out they’re neighbors too. The reader is homeschooled, so she has no way of hearing the rumors about him. They become best buds and hang out with each other everyday and eventually fall in love

A/N: This was waaaayyy longer than I wanted it to be, so my apologizes in advance. Thanks again to @the-murphy-family for such a fantastic prompt, I’m sorry I rushed the exposition so much. I had so much fun writing this! (If you aren’t already following their blog, I highly suggest it).

Warnings: Connor’s potty mouth | First person reader | Fighting Murphy siblings

It was almost bedtime by the time I’d messaged him. I hadn’t planned on it, by any means. We talked after I’d finished my lessons for the day–he’d skipped school, I saw, which I always thought was off considering his mother was home.

I’d changed into my pajamas–just an oversized t-shirt and a pair of boxer shorts–and had begun to tuck myself into bed when I saw him.

He’d left his blind open tonight, and through the window screen I could see him silhouetted perfectly, all the lights in his room blazing. It was nearing 9:30, so I wasn’t too shocked to find he was still awake. The houses were so close together on this side of town and, from the second story window, there was nothing but a four yard distance between our windows–and a drop nearly twice that length.

He was sitting on the edge of his bed, staring straight ahead, giving me a view of his profile, the sharp angle of his jaw, the thin slope of his nose, and the hard jut of his adam’s apple.

 What startled me enough to give pause was the fact he was unnervingly still, unblinking, staring at something I couldn’t see. He wasn’t working on homework or painting his nails or playing that silly candy crush game on his phone. He was just staring.

Too far away for me to make out his expression, I instead rolled over onto my bed, clicking the lights back on and pulling out my phone, opening up the Chat app we used on the daily.

To: Connor
From: Me

What’s up, buttercup?

I wished I could see him–there were certainly nights we sat by the window and messaged back and forth, but starting out that way would mean he knew I saw him lost in whatever pensive state he’d been in, which more often than not would mean he’d be less than willing to talk. In my lap, my phone buzzed to life.

From: Connor
To: Me

Isn’t past your bedtime or something? 

I snorted, starting my own reply before:

From: Connor
To: Me

Are you having trouble sleeping again?

Swallowing thickly, I immediately replied:

To: Connor
From: Me

No, I’m fine. Just bored, checking to see if you were too :)

I tried to wait, give Connor a moment to compose whatever turmoil he’d been sitting in before I asked how he felt, otherwise I’d get a swift ‘okay’ and the conversation would take a dive bomb south at ridiculous speeds.

From: Connor
To: Me

If it’s nudes you’re looking for, sorry to disappoint, but I’m not in the mood tonight, kiddo

I choked, lunging forward in the bed to muffle my embarrassing squawk into my fist. Thank goodness my bed was out of sight of the window, or I’d have to watch Connor chortling at my less than appropriate reaction to his less than appropriate joke.

Connor and I had only been talking for about two months now, after I’d moved out here five months ago. Well, we’d been talking for nearly the entirety of the five months, but I’d only realized it was Connor not all that long ago.

To: Connor
From: Me

Oh no, whatever will I do without seeing your sculpted, rock-hard abs??? ;)

From: Connor
To: Me

Shut up, jerk off

I cackled into my fist, careful to not wake my siblings that slept in the next room over. It had taken a large amount of time to get used to Connor’s rather blunt personality, to put it pleasantly.  He’d always been candid, of course, ever since the first contact I’d had with him on the Chat app (“You swear you aren’t a pedophile, right? Or my dad? That’d be weird as fuck.”) and it had been thrilling to be with someone so open and ready to talk about things. The way he felt. The things he thought. The fact he was afraid.

We didn’t exchange photos for a long time–and I’d never seen Connor outside the house, other than the on and off times he’d flit across his bedroom window like a haunt, never knew his name–but the second his photo flashed on my screen, I knew. Even in the photo he hadn’t been smiling, the same stoic countenance he always wore.

He’d recognized my photo immediately, and had been less than thrilled. It took convincing–a lot of me showing up at the fence between our yards, very nauseous, promising it hadn’t been a mean joke–but he came around.

From: Connor
To: Me

You sure you’re good? You’re quiet

I smiled softly at my phone screen. It was a rare night when Connor had enough energy to be so concerned about others–it wasn’t his fault, I knew, he was just in a bad spot right now. The fact he could consider my feelings for more than a few moments felt remarkable, flattering. But, most importantly, it meant he was doing okay.

To: Connor
From: Me

I’m fine, pls don’t worry :)

To: Connor
From: Me

Are YOU okay?

From: Connor
To: Me

I’m fine, chill out

I rolled my eyes, unsurprised. Deflect and distract, his usually strategy.

From: Connor
To: Me

Can’t see you rn

From: Connor
To: Me

Come to the window

I sat up quickly, going over to shut out the light to blur my image to him. Combing my messy hair with my fingers, I tugged on my oversized shirt so that it covered my mostly exposed legs before throwing open the window and leaning out.

Connor, across the way, had already thrown his window open and was halfway leaning out, his face scrunched in confusion. He tapped something out on his phone, pausing every so often to tuck back the dark locks falling into his face. His other arm was braced on the window ledge, the sleeve of his hoodie pushed up to expose his bare forearms to moonlight, glowing a soft snow hue in the dark. My phone buzzed as he glanced back up at me with an open expression.

From: Connor
To: Me

Turn on the light, dumbass, I can barely see you

I smiled up at him, putting my phone aside to shake my head ‘no’. He frowned, slumping down a little more against the window, his chest pressed to the ledge, before holding his arms up in a 'why not?’ and flipping me the bird.

I typed out a quick response to let him know that my parents thought I was asleep. I watched him read the text, watched his eyebrows furrowed over his deep-set slate eyes, saw him frown, heard him swear under his breath. I bit back a chuckle as he carded his hand through his hair in frustration several times.

I vaguely wondered why this made so little sense–most of our conversation up to this point had been centric of me, but Connor was visibly frustrated (not that he wasn’t frequently) and earlier he’d seemed much to absent to not be upset about something. My phone buzzed to life, casting a blue glow across my face, and I saw Connor’s face stretch in recognition, pleased to make out my expression in the dark.

From: Connor
To: Me

Meet me in the pool house

My heart jackhammered in my chest at the thought of it–sneaking out. He was crazy, he had to be. He knew my parents would murder me for being up this late, let alone sneaking out, and worst of all, meeting a boy.
Not just a boy. Connor.

I felt him watching me from across the divide, at the edge of my vision and could make out where he leaned against the window, propped up on his elbows and head in his hands, hair hanging in his face. Glancing up, meeting his stony gaze, I nodded.

It was immediate, earning a reaction from him. Biting back my chuckle, he scrambled up from where he kneeled against the window ledge, his whole face smiling as he ran from his window without looking back. He was already standing in his backyard, waving wildly before I’d even departed from the window.

I decided against redressing or doing my hair–Connor was waiting and the quicker I got out there the quicker I got back without alerting my parents to my absence. Besides, it was probably too dark in the pool shed for Connor to make out my bare face and frizzy hair anyway, let alone the hair on my legs and the stretch marks on my thighs. As if Connor had the nerve to look to begin with, I snorted.

Sneaking out was surprisingly easy, and Connor had left the gate cracked just enough for me to slip in between. The door to the pool shed–just a small building, hardly smaller than my bedroom, at the edge of the yard–was slightly ajar, and I saw quick movements coming from inside.

Once in the doorway, clicking the door shut behind myself, I heard a sharp intake of breath behind me.

“Connor?” I called, spinning in the dark so that my back rested against the door, ready to exit if necessary. My eyes searched the dark frantically–in vain. There was a small window, vaguely fogged from years of neglect that allowed a slim moon beam to shine in on a small pile of towels and blankets, a little bean bag chair. Connor had told me not too long ago he and Zoe hadn’t played in here for years, which meant it held secrets long forgotten by either of the Murphy children. I felt honored to be inside it.

“Hey,” he breathed, and though I could see him, I recognized his soft voice just to the right side of me, breathy and soft. It’s too dark to make him out, and I noticed he’s careful not to touch me, but I can feel his breath against my ear, warm despite the fact it’s chilly for a June night. I felt goosebumps pimpling along my legs, making the hair stand up on end. I silently thanked the universe for giving me the gift of darkness to veil myself in.

“Feels like it might rain,” I sighed, turning toward the sound of him, the warmth. My bare arms brushed something–maybe cotton, maybe not–but it pulled back immediately away from me, accompanied by a quick intake of breath.

“Christ, don’t talk about the weather,” Connor hissed into the dark, a hard thunk resonating through the shed where he must have leaned his head against the wall, a bit too forcefully. How very Connor of him. “That’s the kind of shit my dad says in the car when he acts like he’s uncomfortable to be near me for more than ten minutes at a time.”

“Sorry,” I muttered, leaning away, and turning to gingerly pick my way across the shed–it was getting late now and I was already beginning to get tired. Connor may be able to stay up until the early morning hours, but I definitely couldn’t be trusted to be awake at eleven.

“Fuck, don’t be sorry, I just meant–shit,” he growled, and I heard another sharp pang against the steel inside of the shed–he’d hit something with his fist, if the metallic clink of what I assumed to be his ring against the sheet metal was any indication.

I stumbled my way to the beanbag chair, collapsing, and letting myself sink into. It smelled a little like chlorine and sun-in hair dye, but it was soft and warm, almost the size of a double bed. I wiggled upright, squinting again to see Connor in the dark now that I took up the only patch of moonlight in the building.

“You aren’t feeling alright, are you?” I asked softly, resting my cheek against the faux suede of the chair, struggling to keep my eyes open. There was a pause.

“That’s not why I asked you over,” he sighed in his tennor, stomping across the room, picking his way, until he flopped down beside me, displacing the insides of the chair and nearly rolling me out of it.

He reached forward with another soft swear, grabbing my shoulder blades to yank me back onto the bean bag bed, rolling me close so that I wouldn’t fall again. I laughed, unsure what was so funny–maybe it was the fact I’d nearly catapulted out of the chair due to all five pounds of Connor “Ribcage” Murphy, or the current situation, my face pressed against the soft cotton of his hoodie, his heartbeat steady and strong against my cheek. I didn’t move away.

To my surprise, Connor didn’t move away either, just kept both arms wrapped around me, hands firmly in place of my scapula as if scared to dip any lower. I felt the dip of his chin against my temple, felt his lips against my scalp.

“Aren’t you freezing?” He whispered, rubbing quick circles between my shoulder blades.

“Quit dodging my question, Con,” I hissed, beginning to pull away before Connor tightened his grip–surprisingly strong for a boy with such lithe wrists.

“But you are cold,” he muttered, slipping one hand down from my shoulder to my bare arms, rubbing in quick patterns there, attempting to make some sort of friction between us.

God, my parents would kill me if they saw me now.

I want to he clear I wasn’t under any pretenses–this wasn’t, er, Connor hadn’t called me out here so that we could, well–

“I’m fine, Connor,” I promised, taking advantage of the moment to fold my arms against him, trapping them between the heat of our bodies, letting my cheek rest idly against his chest. Connor didn’t like me, I knew, but in the dark shed…well, it was easy to pretend.

It was always easy to pretend to be someone else with Connor.

“You wanna talk about what’s going on with you right now?” I said with a false bravado, thumping his chest lightly with my fist. “You can’t hide anything from me, Connor Murphy. I know you too well.”

“You don’t know anything, dumbass,” he grumbled half-heartedly, and I felt him lean forward to press his face into my hair. “You don’t know shit.”

“So you’re lying to me?” I baited with a smile, tapping his chest, feeling his frustrated sigh and rewarding him with a light laugh. “I didn’t think so. I’m here for you, you know.”

“I know,” he growled, sighing heavily, taking one hand off my back to push his hair away, before letting me go entirely to roll onto his back. His thin fingers covered his face, the black fingernails scratching frustratedly against his pale face. “I just–I don’t, I don’t know how to–shit.”

I leaned forward to tap his chest again, letting him know I was here. “Just talk it out. I’m not going anywhere, I promise.”

He shocked me by reaching forward with one hand, knotting his fingers with my own and letting them linger against his chest. I was grateful he couldn’t make out my expression from his position, grateful for the fact he couldn’t feel my face flush. I’d never been this close with a boy in my life, and Connor knew that. He wasn’t being fair, and I was sure he knew that too.

Unless he didn’t. Connor had a bad habit of selling himself short. I bit back the urge to press a kiss to his bony knuckles.

“I know,” he whispered, voice suddenly hoarse. He was worse than I thought. “Um, it’s harder now? I guess. I trust you–I mean, I always trusted you. It’s um, it’s harder because the anonymity is gone, I guess? I’m worried now that you know who I am–what I am–you’re gonna get bored of me?”

I didn’t laugh this time. His voice was thick and rapid as if he couldn’t hold back the word vomit, like he’d been holding it back for a while. My own throat felt thick, and I couldn’t contain the guilty feeling in my stomach. I rolled forward, wrapping my arms around his thin waist, feeling his hip bone press against mine sharply. I was careful not to look at his face–it’d shut him down for sure.

“Connor…I need you just as much as you need me, you know that right?” I whispered, trying too hard not to let him hear the panic in my voice.

“I know,” he rasped shallowly, sounding oddly wet. He was crying, I realized stupidly. My heart constricted in my chest, my stomach dropping. He was in pain and I had barely noticed. This was all my fault.

“And even if I didn’t need to vent, if I didn’t need your support, I’d still talk to you because I like you, Connor. You’re my friend. You’re a good person,” I whispered.

“Shut up.”

“You are,” I continued. “You’re a great person and you’re always looking after me, even when you’re hurt. I’m so sorry you’re hurting, Connor, I’m so sorry I didn’t notice–”

“I’m not hurting! Shut up!”

“Shhhh,” I hushed, sitting up to remind him to be quiet. “You’re parents are gonna–”

His face was red. His nose and lips were swollen, wet, and his cheeks, flecked with silver freckles glowing lightly in the moonlight beam he laid in, and there were tear tracks running from the corners of his eyes.

“Connor,” I cried softly, reaching up to wipe his cheek. “Please–”

“Shit, I’m sorry,” he sobbed wetly, hands folding up to cover his face. “Just fucking get out, okay? This was a mistake.”

“Hey, hey,” I soothed frantically, reaching up to pet his hair, hoping that it might make him unfold himself. “I’m not leaving until you tell me what’s wrong. I’m gonna help, Connor, whatever you need. I want to help you, please.”

“I’m not your responsibility, kid, okay? You can leave. Stop looking at me, Christ.”

“No,” I sighed. “Look, if you don’t wanna talk, that’s okay. That’s okay. Just, let me stay, okay? I’m not judging you, I’m not gonna leave, I promise. I’m here for you. Let me be your friend.”

He shook underneath me, holding in sharp sobs. I wondered how long it’s been since he let himself fall apart like this, let himself have some kind of catharsis, let himself feel, period.

This relapse was good. It was under control. I was here. I had him.

“Okay,” he whispered finally, reaching up to tangle his hands in my hair. “Christ, just–don’t tell anyone, okay? Don’t laugh.”

“I won’t,” I promised. “I’m not. I’m here, okay? You don’t have to talk.”

“Okay. Okay…thanks.”

I might have imagined it, as I lowered my head back to his chest, might have imagined in between the soft presses of his fingers as they moved in and out of my, might have imagined, just briefly, the feeling of his lips pressed against my hair.


The next morning was awkward. My parents and siblings showed no knowledge of the fact I’d snuck out to see Connor last night–it wasn’t as if they weren’t aware we were friends, to my parents chagrin and the Murphys’ delight, but I didn’t need them to think we were involved in some sort of torrid tryst, especially one we weren’t even having.

I left a few hours after Connor had slowly ceased his wet and much needed lament and his breathing had turned into a soft snore. I untangled myself from his arms, and leaned back for awhile to watch him sleep, tried to ignore how angelic he looked, red faced and weepy with silver freckles glowing mutely in the patch of moonbeam.

I’d sent him a quick text to let him know I wanted to return before my parents woke up, let him know I’d be by the next day. Told him to  message me if he wanted to talk again.

Now I was waiting for my mother to finish grading my papers for the day so I could to see Connor, who didn’t have school today thanks to some silly teacher institute, lucky loser. The American school system was a joke, to be quite honest.

“You’re jumpy,” my mother noted, scribbling something in the margins of my paper without looking up at me.

“I was gonna ask if I could go over to the Murphy’s? I haven’t talked to Zoe in a long time,” I asked sheepishly, scratching at my arm.

“And Connor, hmm?” My mother hummed thoughtfully, giving a smirk to my workbook.

“Connor’s cool,” I said honestly, nonetheless feeling a guilty lump rise in my throat.

“He’s a good boy,” she mused. “He always helps me with groceries if he’s outside.”

“Which is never,” muttered one of the younger kids, earning a kick under the table from me. My mom just smiled softly.

“Go ahead, honey. Call if you’re going to be longer than an hour.”

I thanked her, nearly sprinting out the door, my twin braids slapping against my back as I skipped between the yards. Zoe was at the door before I knocked, leading me into the kitchen, announcing me loudly in a way that would’ve earned a talking to at my house.

Cynthia appeared in the doorway, looking radiant, albeit a bit tired. Her face smiled brightly at me.

“Honey! It’s so good to see you, it’s been so long since you’ve stayed for dinner–Larry, tell Connor she’s here!–Zoe’s missed you, you should stay the night, right Zoe?–Larry, call Connor–Would that be alright with your parents? Stay for dinner then stay the night? I can run out and rent some movies and snag a pizza–Larry!

Zoe just rolled her eyes, yanking me down the steps past her mother and into the basement. Her grip on my arm was vice like, almost painful and definitely excessive. Her pretty red hair blew up in my face, making the already dark room even harder to see through the haze of her auburn locks. She practically shoved me onto the couch, following me by slamming down beside me.


“I saw you last night.”

My pulse hammered in my throat, and I felt all the blood rush swiftly to my face, making me dizzy.


“I saw you. I told Mom. I don’t think Dad–”

“What do you mean?” I gasped, throwing my hands between us. Zoe blinked rapidly.

“You and Connor. In the shed. Last night. Christ, it was only ten, you could’ve been sneaky about it–”

“Zoe, we didn’t do anything,” I pleaded. God, if the Murphys knew, they’d tell my parents–

“You don’t really expect me to believe that, do you?” She sighed, pushing her hair back out of her eyes. “Whatever, okay? You don’t have to tell me, I don’t give a shit as long as you aren’t pregnant. Just–because you’re my friend, I want you to know some things. Are you gonna listen?”

I thought better than to argue with Zoe, so I nodded shyly.

“Look, I know you and Connor are friends. That’s fine, whatever. But you don’t see Connor at school. You don’t see Connor here, not really. Not what he’s like when you aren’t here.”

I felt my heart constrict. She was going to try to convince me to stop talking to Connor.

“He’s mean. You don’t think it’s weird you’re his only friend? He’s a bully. He’s lazy. He’s violent, Christ–he’s my brother, I love him. But you shouldn’t…you shouldn’t take him seriously, okay? One day his temper is gonna flip and you’re gonna be in his way.”

I blinked, stunned that Zoe would say something so slanderous about her own brother.

“I don’t understand,” I said softly, staring across at her. It was no wonder Connor was so upset, why he had to reach out to strangers on the Internet to vent. His own home was a war zone.

Zoe sighed heavily. “You aren’t at school. You don’t hear the rumors. You don’t see the things he does. If you wanna be friends, fine, but…be careful. I wouldn’t let him anywhere near your heart.”

I didn’t argue with Zoe–I thought better of it. So I just nodded.

“Thanks for, um. Thanks for the warning,” I said with a thick voice, struggling to maintain sincerity.

“You’re welcome,” she sighed. “Mom thinks you’re dating. She’s over the moon. It’s disgusting.”

“I thought you thought we were dating,” I pried, raising an eyebrow. Zoe rolled her eyes, hitting me with a deadpan expression.

“As if Connor could ever get someone like you. As if Connor could even feel something remotely close to love–I’m half convinced his chest is an icebox,” she laughed dryly.

“Talking about me, are we?”

We both spun, wide eyed to see Connor on the stairs, arms folded.

“No, go ahead, I’ll wait. I love hearing stories about myself. Tell me again Zoe about how I’m in love with her?” He hissed, making my face burn red in shame. I felt awful for letting Zoe talk about him that way–worse because Connor made it painful clear he didn’t reciprocate any feelings I might’ve had for him.

Wait. I didn’t have feelings. Connor was a friend. A good friend. A friend who needs me and who doesn’t deserve to be taken advantage of, not until he’s okay. Not ever.

“Never said that,” Zoe said with a smirk, rising from the couch gracefully. “But keep digging your grave, it’s fun to watch.”

“Fuck you,” he growled.

“Fuck you,” she grinned. “I’d love to watch your train wreck love admission, Titanic is on, and at least that story has a happy ending.”

Connor kept a white knuckled grip on the banister as she passed, as if holding in an urge to push her. He kept his blazing eyes downcast, and noted his pale cheeks were burning red.

“What’d she tell you?” He whispered once the door slammed.

“Nothing true,” I promised, leaning forward on the couch to make room for him, patting the seat beside me. “Nothing that changed my mind.”

His head snapped up, and I watched his expression go from rage to disbelief to awe before he descended the stairs, shaking. He stopped before the couch, as if scared to come near me, staring down in awe.

“What did my mom say to you?”

I shook my head. “Not much. She asked if I could spend the night. Only if you want me to, though.”

He laughed, but the smile didn’t quite reach his face. “Only if I want you to, Christ, where did I find you?”

“The Internet,” I reminded, earning another laugh.

“Of course I want you to,” he sighed, finally coming to sit beside me. “Of course I want–”

He cut himself off, surprising me, before slinging an arm around my shoulder. I stiffened, but eventually melted against him, reminding myself that it was just Connor.

“You wanna watch a movie? I hear they’re playing Titanic or something.”


It’s two am when I wake up, taking a quick mental assessment of where I am. There’s a soft blue glow burning my eyes, shining over what appears to be a nest of blankets piled roughly on the floor.

The Murphy’s basement, I realized with a jolt, I’m just at the Murphy’s.

I’m in a pair of Connor’s pajamas–Zoe’s clothes don’t quite fit me right–an oversized black shirt and a pair of sweats Cynthia brought down in a laundry hamper. My braids have long since come loose, the desperate curls tangling wildly around my head.

Beside me, Zoe is snoring, almost comically, every so often a nostril whistles in time to the soft sound of Dexter’s Lab playing on the tv.

There’s a hand, dangling just above my head. The pale fingers were curved artistically, the nails too short as if they’ve been bitten recently and the black nail polish chipped hopelessly. It’s attached to an arm, long and thin, almost angular, and up farther is a shoulder, bare, pressed against a red coffee stained couch.


“You’re awake,” he whispered in a conspiratory voice, but when I sat up to make contact, there’s no sly smirk. He’s frowning. “You are having trouble sleeping.”

I shook my head. “Stop worrying about me, Connor.”

“No,” he rasped, sitting up on the couch. I avoided looking too long at his bare chest, but regardless indulged nonetheless.

“You haven’t been sleeping,” I noted, coming to sit by him on the couch. He immediately opened the blanket, giving me room to slide in beside him, before throwing it around both of us so we could settle back against the couch. His bare skin was warm, and I let him take both my hands between his, letting him rub my hands between his in an attempt at some warmth.

“Been thinking too much,” he sighed softly. “Don’t worry about it.”

I swallowed, beginning to feel the effects of sleeplessness and helplessness melt together in a fatal concoction.

“I can’t help if you don’t let me, Connor,” I reminded him, pressing closer. “Let me help. What are you thinking about?”

He leaned away, as if I’d burned him, dropping my hands into his lap and looking away, the thin muscle of his cheeks hollowing as he clenched his jaw. “Can’t say.”

“Connor,” I pleaded. “Please let me help. I want to. I’m begging.”

“No,” he growled. I felt tears beginning to build, to my own horror, behind my eyes.

“Connor, can you just–”


It was an explosion. We both froze, turning in horror to glance at Zoe, waiting to breathe until we heard the soft whistle of her nose again. I turned slowly, terrified back to Connor. His eyes were wide, and if I didn’t have my fingers wrapped around his knee, I swore he might try to run.

“Me?” I asked softly, careful not to wake Zoe. Connor pursed his lips, his jaw twitching nervously.

“Fuck, yes, you, just–shit, I didn’t wanna say that–”

I leaned away, watching Connor’s face contort farther.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered heatedly. “I’m sorry if I did something wrong. You want me to go, right? I’m really sorry, Connor–”

“What?” He nearly yelled. “You think–fuck.”

His head ducked, to my great surprise, against my shoulder, pressing his face into the crook of my neck and, of all things, began to laugh.


“You think–Christ, it’s like you aren’t even real. You think I’m mad at you?”

He pulled away, his face no longer red or swollen, just smiling softly at me, almost awe struck, and staring intently with his slate eyes.

“I…I’m not sure?” I whispered, but not feeling at all nervous when Connor snaked his hands gently up my arms again.

“You’re perfect,” he whispered suddenly, shocking me. “And you have no idea that you’re perfect. Christ.”

I frowned. “Connor. I don’t…I don’t think I understand.”

But he was still looking at me–eyes scanning slowly over my face, landing suddenlyhalf-lidded on my lips, and it suddenly all clicked into place. Why Zoe would warn me. Why Cynthia acted the way she did. Why Connor was so scared in the first place.

I remember Zoe saying how over the moon Mrs. Murphy was at the idea of Connor and I dating–because that meant Connor would have me. It meant Connor would be happy.

It meant I would have Connor.

It was like a sudden dam had broken open inside me, filling me with more revelations as Connor’s hands lifted to cup the back of my head, his eyes soft, scared, and asking as they met mine. I let a quick exhale before I surged forward, slamming out mouths together much too forcefully, and not at all enjoyably.

I laughed–much too loud–but Connor kept back to the task at hand, his eyes closed in concentration, swallowing my outburst and folding me against his (very, very bare) chest and kissing me deeper, slower. It was painfully obvious he didn’t know what he was doing, but so much about the kiss was still tender and important, warming me from my core outward until I was scratching to wind my arms around him, getting him as close to me as I possibly could, kissing back to make sure he knew how much I wanted this. How much I wanted him.

How much I needed him. Anything he needed, I’d give him. Now and forever and–

“If you two are gonna fuck, can you do it in the bathroom or something? I’m trying to sleep.”

Connor and I pulled apart–causing me to stumble backwards against the arm of the couch gracelessly and staring at Zoe as she rolled over with her back to us.

I dared a peek back at Connor, whose lips were pink and wet despite their dry skin splitting with the force of his wide, wide smile.  His eyes were glowing brightly, almost burning as he raked them over me. The flannel blanket was pooled behind his back where it had been wrapped around us, and he just simply opened his arms again, inviting me back. His pale chest–pock marked with freckles, clusters on his ribs–was striped with pink lines from where my fingers had raked in a desperate attempt to give him validation.

I crawled forward, pressing my face against his neck in a hazy attempt to bring my breathing back to a normal speed.

“You okay?” I asked, running my fingertips over his shoulders, fighting the urge to word vomit an unholy collection of questions about who and what we were. Connor Murphy, post kiss. Connor Murphy, still life, smiling with wet, swollen, bloody lips. Connor Murphy standing at the edge of happiness, jumps over the ledge.

He nodded against me, fighting with his own dark curls where they made an attempt to cloud my cheeks in an adoring way. Cute, I decided.

“Okay? I’m,” he sighed, laughing and wrapping his arms around me to squeeze tightly. “I’m…you have no idea.”

“Better than nudes?” I teased. He snorted, embarrassed.

“I’m positive. Although–”

I hit him.

“Okay, kidding! Jeez…” he pulled away, cupping my face lightly, pushing the hair back out of my eyes like I was a child. It felt fantastic, he was right, as I searched through the galaxies in his eyes, his pale skin illuminated by the hazy blue glow of the television. It felt so far past amazing, being held like I was the only person he knew how to see. He cleared his throat, and I saw his eyes were brimming with an emotion I couldn’t name.

“You, uh,” he laughed nervously under his breath. “You have to know I love you.”

It was a startling blow, knocking all the air out of me and forced a bubbling laugh to fly out of my lungs. Connor’s smile wavered slightly, so I popped up to press a soft kiss to the cleft of his chin.

“I know,” I sighed, giddy with the realization it was true. “I know. And you know I trust you more than anyone. You know I love you.”

It was like watching him crack open, the way all the uncertainty was cleared from his face, a wave of joy and triumph.

“You love me?” He asked so softly, so awestruck, I felt my heart shake in my chest. I’d barely started to nod before he surged forward to kiss me again, small and chaste pecks across my face and neck, the bridge of my nose, my temples.

He was okay. We were okay. We were going to be just fine.

anonymous asked:

Hi! Do you have any headcanons for Marvin and Whizzer at the hospital? (b/c tears) Love your blog and your HC's by the way!!! You're so creative and detailed and I love you and the Falsettos characters so much! <3 <3 <3 Thanks!!!!!!!

i hope you like these!! i also love to upset myself. tysm for the compliments! my hcs are mediocre but i’m glad you enjoy them!!<33

this took so long. i was trying to remain sensitive to the situation and hope that it’s accurate. i had to google the symptoms of AIDs and how to play chess so it’s all here, folks.
it’s so weird to go from silly, lighthearted hcs to crushing ones.

  • we all know that whizzer is stubborn as hell. he would straight up refuse help when he’s first hospitalized. he’s barely mobile but too proud to admit his body is deteriorating quickly.
  • the amount of help he requires just doing things like walking a few metres frustrates him to no end. he starts getting really angry, telling marvin & charlotte to shove off and leave him alone. 
  • he’s convinced that if he tries hard enough he’ll be able to make himself better or at least act like it. 
  • he gets so upset with himself and his body’s inability that he actually breaks down crying at one point– multiples times lbr. 
  • he collapses and is sat on the floor on his knees, gripping his hospital gown and wiping furiously at his tear-streaked face. marvin goes to help him up but decides to crouch beside him for a bit, rubbing whizzer’s arms and holding back his own tears.
  • marvin is constantly in a state of faux optimism that whizzer can see right through. whizzer also holds a calm, lighthearted expression when he can as he tries to worry his friends and family as little as possible. left alone they watch each other and know that it’s not alright anymore.
  • they drop their brave faces and just hold each other most nights. their tight knit family leaves the room and they lay silently together. if tears are shed, neither of them say anything.
  • on nights where the silence and sobs are too painful they reminisce over things they did together in the past (although they usually avoid mentioning racquetball or chess). they’ll lie on their backs, hands intertwined, recounting all the dumb places they messed around and tease each other.
  • these nights are spent cuddling and talking until whizzer succumbs to fatigue despite doing nothing that day. marvin has to face the inevitability of the situation alone late into the night and early hours. he’s graced with insomnia and anxiety throughout whizzer’s illness.
  • there comes a point where whizzer refuses to look in a mirror and laments his good looks. his cheeks become more sunken and his weight loss is so blatant, it’s unsettling.
  • whizzer: remember when my hair line was my only flaw
    marvin, holding him and whispering into his hair: it still is
    whizzer, lightheartedly: don’t be a sap, marv
  • whizzer is soon suffering the mental effects of his diagnosis. he’s suddenly overtaken by constant anxiety and depressive thoughts. marvin comforts him however he can, understanding how it must feel for him. 
  • along with these, whizzer’s memory is taking a serious toll. he tries to play chess with jason but completely loses his train of thought. 
  • jason: you can’t move that way
    whizzer, half asleep: huh…?
    jason: the knight. you can’t move diagonally; it’s against the rules.
  • marvin notices the distress and confusion on whizzer’s face and quickly comes to his rescue, challenging jason to a game.
  • he’s left confused a lot  he loses grasp of dates – but this could be due to his refusal to count down his days while marvin anxiously keeps track of it, trying to be with whizzer for every single one of his final hours, minutes, seconds.
  • whizzer sometimes finds him overbearing but marvin knows when to back off and allow whizzer the space despite his reluctance to leave him alone.
  • whizzer prefers to be in company most of the time during his treatment. when alone he’s left to his thoughts of death and what he’ll leave behind. no matter how many times he wills himself to believe it’s just his time. 
  • he’s frustrated, enraged that if there is a god, why he would do this to him? he knows he is not an infallible being but he at least deserves an explanation. he doesn’t deserve to be left to suffer this nameless disease that only provides him with pitiful (or disgusted) looks and half-hearted apologies.
  • along with the mental collapse, he suffers from persistent nausea as his immune system struggles to fight back any other infections he catches. he can’t even look at food without imagining it coming back up. if the illness doesn’t kill him then malnutrition is the next contender.
  • when he and marvin lay together, marvin can’t help but notice how he’s being poked by exposed ribs.
  • marvin will hold whizzer and notice how whizzer is somehow extremely hot yet shivering. marvin attempts to nurse him through his more feverish days and whizzer has to remind him that they’re in a hospital and marvin isn’t a doctor. 
  • he won’t admit it but he prefers marvin’s care no matter how useless he is at it. most doctors are cold, dismissive. charlotte isn’t able to hang around 24/7 so a familiar face is welcomed.
  • whizzer outright refuses to allow himself to be babied and makes distasteful jokes at his own expense in hopes of lightening the mood – it doesn’t really work despite his best efforts.
  • marvin does laugh to some of his morbid joking, to mendel and trina’s shock and distaste. whizzer is pleased with himself, not having seen marvin laugh in so long. it’s not as bright as he usually laughs but it’s something and whizzer finds himself laughing too. marvin holds his gaze fondly and if he’s tearing up no one mentions it.
  • they soon have to face the inevitability of the illness and how it’s going to affect marvin. there’s a wordless exchange between marvin and whizzer after they’ve both been informed of marvin’s likely future. they hold each other a little tighter that night.
  • they have a full discussion later on. whizzer won’t stop apologising and marvin won’t stop asking him not to. 
  • marvin is all too aware of his fate. this isn’t whizzer’s fault, he knows that much for sure but he’s infuriated. why was there no public information? he’d become a victim to rumours and sourceless hearsay. he and whizzer and countless others.
  • the days go by quickly, some better than others but whizzer’s clearly getting worse. each night he seems a little colder (physically and emotionally), he holds marvin hand a little less tight, his conversation is a little more sparse.
  • when whizzer’s time finally comes and he’s lost behind that hospital curtain, marvin is empty. he’s never quite understood how someone could feel empty, completely devoid of any emotion, but here he is.
  • marvin and jason have much the same reaction. frozen. stiff and frozen in place. trina just wishes that this time jason wasn’t so much like marvin. she’d always been loud, emotional. couldn’t jason cry for once? then trina could hold him and comfort him and whisper how it’s going to be alright regardless of her own uncertainty.
  • on that final day, after mendel and trina have collected the bar mitzvah things and quickly ushered jason out, marvin feels powerless. 
  • cordelia is leant against the wall covering her face and holding back her own tears. 
  • before he leaves, whizzer offers him one last genuine (yet teary) smile with his hand over marvin’s. his tight squeeze slowly loosens and marvin leaves a final kiss on his cheek as he strokes the back of his hand.
  • marvin is there when the final light leaves whizzer’s eyes. marvin is there when charlotte slowly covers whizzer’s body with a sheet. he forces himself to look away knowing that whizzer isn’t there anymore. not really. he’s there as charlotte comforts cordelia and he can’t help but feel a sudden spark of envy. 
  • he clenches his fists and puts on a brave face. he figures that’s what whizzer would want. he couldn’t be more wrong and subconsciously he knows that.
  • his facade finally collapses when he sees jason place that king chess piece on whizzer’s grave. he inwardly snorts, even in death whizzer wins.
  • jason sees his father’s tears and trina is startled when jason lets out his own pitiful sobs. 
  • the entire tight knit family is left to mourn and to wonder if everything will ever be alright again. mendel, forever a skeptic, offhandedly mentions that whizzer would be watching them where he is right now. the uncharacteristic comment is a welcome comfort as their now-family-of-6 holds each other. 
  • the belief that everything could be alright lingers.

so yeah… hmu to sob over falsettos.

Byun Baekhyun//True Colours

Originally posted by bakakhyunbacon

Summary: You attend a supernatural college, and after an eventful first meeting, you develop a heavy dislike for Baekhyun, as he’s your natural rival - a vampire. But things are strange for you, because as the months go by, you can’t figure out if you’re simply using the rivalry as an excuse to avoid facing your fears.
Scenario: college!AU, supernatural!AU, angst
Word Count: 7,599

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Nature Family

@ciphernetics did a very very good thing and came up with the best AU idea ever.

I ruined it. Enjoy the ruining.


He glanced up, his eyes widening. “Yes, Nikki?”

She was one of the only campers left waiting at the pick-up spot, having wandered away from Max to explore a mysterious rustling from the bushes. (This, it turned out, was a squirrel; Quartermaster seemed more than capable of sorting it out and had pulled her away from the animal by her overalls.) But … Well, David had to admit that he’d been so worried about Max being lonely or upset about the summer ending that he’d almost forgotten about the adventurous young camper. So it was with no small amount of guilt that he met her  eyes, watching anxiously as she scuffed her toes along the ground and glanced over her shoulder at Sleepy Peak Peak.

“Well, uh … I think my parents aren’t coming?”

David sprang to his feet, leaving Max to continue drawing in the dirt and ignoring him. “Don’t be silly! It’s only noon, after all! And Max is still here,” he added, gesturing at him.

Max looked from David to Nikki, something almost like concern in his expression. “David, are you being fucking stupid again?” He stood, pouring as much resentment into the motion as possible. “What’s up, Nik?”

She shrugged, stuffing her hands in her pockets. “It’s just that Mom said Dad was picking me up yesterday because of his Sunday Golf Tournaments, and he didn’t. So …”

“What?!” David tried to keep his voice calm, but he couldn’t help wincing as it leapt up to what Gwen called “dog-whistle levels.” “Wh … why didn’t you tell us that, Nikki?” As a matter of fact, why hadn’t her parents told them that? They were in charge, after all!

“I was gonna, but then Max and Neil decided to try and blow up the Supply Shed and that sounded like more fun!”

Oh, dear. David whipped out his phone and sent a quick text to Quartermaster and Gwen: ‘stay away from the supply shed might be dangerous’ Then he narrowed his eyes at the two of them, putting his hands on his hips. “Now, kids, that was very irresponsible of you –”

“Yeah yeah,” Max interrupted, rolling his eyes. “How about you just do your goddamn job and figure out where Nikki’s parents are?”

Oh. Of course, that made sense. “R-right. Thanks, Max!”

“Fucking idiot.”

He had all the campers’ parents saved in his contacts for easy access, just in case. So he didn’t have to leave their side as he looked up Mariana Zuckerman’s number and listened to the line ring.

And ring.

And ring.

Finally there was a tiny click. “You’ve reached 555-0175. Dr. Zuckerman isn’t available right now, so please leave a message at the –”

He snapped the phone shut, shaking his head. “No worries,” he chirped to the kids; Nikki was watching a line of ants travel through the grass, but Max’s eyes were trained on him, tiny pinpricks of searing turquoise. “We’ll just try Mr. Sherwood then …”

Nikki’s dad didn’t pick up, either.

That was … well, of course it wasn’t troubling, David wouldn’t jump to conclusions so quickly! But he would have to give her parents a friendly reminder that it was important to have their phones on them at all times. 

Then again, maybe they were driving. That made sense.

“Why didn’t they pick up?” Max demanded, startling David out of his thoughts and nearly making him drop the phone.

“Oh, I’m sure they’re on their way!”

He just stared for a few long moments. Then turned with a heavy sigh, shaking his head. “I’m gonna go find Gwen.”

“Max, don’t –” But it was too late; faster than he’d ever seen the boy move, Max was trotting across the small grassy clearing that served as Camp Campbell’s pick-up spot, over to where Gwen had her nose buried in a magazine about … something or other, he didn’t really understand most of what she read.

Maybe Max had the right idea, though. Gwen would know what to do, even if she was a bit of a worrywart. He straightened, feeling better already as he tried dialing Nikki’s mother again. There was no point in panicking, which meant he’d just ignore the niggling worming sickness in his stomach until it went away.

That usually worked.

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A knock sounded on the door. Wade Wilson was on his feet and pirouetted his way to the door in a matter of seconds, flinging it wide open.

“Thank Thor (or Loki)! I was about to starve!

The kid at the door looked on, vaguely unimpressed at Wade’s antics. “Are you the mister Pool comma Dead who ordered a large, uh… pineapple olive, large anchovy mushroom, and large special order of four cheese with… mozzarella sticks as the topping?” he recited the order in a bored drawl, but there was a hint of judgement in his tone. So Wade liked his pizzas with a bit of zest and creativity. Was it a crime? Part of Wade hoped it was, how thrilling would it be to live on the run from the cops for daring to order a pizza outside the conventional system? It would make a great movie! He should write it, he could make millions-

“I’m taking that as a yes,” Pizza kid said, clearing his throat loudly. “If you could maybe pay for these, I gotta get going.” He shifted the pizzas in his grip with a peeved look on his face.

Okay, rude. It’s not like Wade had made him stand there for… Wade checked his watch. Oh. Nearly five minutes. Okay, maybe he’d been dissociating a bit longer than he realized. “My bad,” Wade said, reaching for his wallet, “what do I owe ya for, pretty boy?”

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NDRV3 Valentines Advice

Find yourself a Kaede, who will cheer on you for every little thing you do and hums with you all the songs you love at midnight.

Find yourself a Shuuichi, who will blush at compliments and will be there for you, on the loneliest nights, whenever you feel down.

Find yourself a Kaito, who will boast about how much you mean to them to everyone and will always tell you to follow your dreams.

Find yourself a Maki, who expresses their love in meaningful moments, and keeps doing it even if they go unnoticed.

Find yourself a Tenko, who will fight anyone who belittles you and will show you how to stand up for the things you love.

Find yourself an Ouma, who teases you a lot but actually cares so much of your well-being.

Find yourself an Angie, who will be the brightest light in your life and will teach you how to paint everyday in vivid colours.

Find yourself a Shirogane, whom you’ll watch shows together and will love your atypical quirkiness.

Find yourself a Gonta, who will treat you like royalty and will forever take care of you as a gentleman.

Find yourself an Iruma, who will put you as the most beautiful thing that has ever been created (after them, obviously :P)

Find yourself a Ryouma, who will always be watching over you, protecting you from any harm.

Find yourself a Toujou, who will serve you and will take on making you happy as their duty.

Find yourself a Himiko, who will sleep next to you and will teach you magic tricks when you are sad.

Find yourself a Shinguuji, who will tell you that you are living proof of humanity’s beauty and will recite you bedtime stories.

Find yourself a Kiibo, whom you will try to find the human part living inside you with, but will remain hopeful until the day both of you find it.

Find yourself. Find love. It can be romantic, it can be platonic. It will appear in the little things people do. 

It’s in the goodbye kiss your mother gives you before you leave.
It’s in the cake your friend bought you that one day.
It’s in the hug your brother asked for yesterday.

Realize that Valentines is supposed to be about every type of love out there, and that these little traits are everywhere.
Love yourself first, then go and find your match.

Good luck, and don’t despair. Remember: the truth will always hold some kind of hope.

amnesia || sebastian stan

word count: 2109

summary: sebastian stan x reader → he’s waiting for you to remember

author’s note: i took a chance on this one. it’s been in my drafts for awhile now and i’m just now posting it. it might be a little out of character, since i didn’t originally have anyone planned out for this. (sorry for any spelling or grammar errors) enjoy :)

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“Okay now cross them over each other and pull as tight as you can.”

“Like this?” Cas asks, following Dean’s instructions and crossing his shoelaces.

“Yeah, now loop ‘em,” Dean tells him, demonstrating with his own laces.

Cas watches like a hawk as Dean ties up his laces with practiced ease.

It really is nice of Dean to teach him how to do this, Castiel thinks. Dean’s the bestest friend he could ask for. 

Cas is snapped out of his thoughts when Dean grabs him by the shoulders and shakes him.

“Come on, Cas,” he scolds. “I’m tryna teach you. You don’t wanna be the only six year old out there who doesn’t know how to tie his own shoelaces, do ya?”

“Of course not,” Cas replies hotly. He copies Dean’s movements from earlier and asks what’s next.

“Tie the knot.” Dean quickly ties the loops into a neat knot. Cas tries to mimic him but he can’t. 

“Tie the knot, Cas,” Dean repeats. “No, not like that-” Dean redos his laces to show Cas again. “Tie the knot.”

Cas snickers then. “If you wanted me to get married so badly you only had to ask,” he teases.

“Huh?” Dean tilts his head to one side in confusion.

“To ‘tie the knot’ means to get married,” Cas explains, still trying to figure out his laces.

Dean twists around and picks a daisy from his mom’s garden before turning back to face Cas. The freckle-faced boy gets on one knee, grins and says, “Cas, you’re my best friend, you wanna tie the knot with me?”

They’re both laughing as Cas accepts the flower, and they go back to tying their shoelaces.

Of course, neither of them knows now that one day, many years later, Dean will get down on one knee again, this time with a ring, and ask his best friend if he’d like to tie the knot with him.

Three is Company (Jared and Evan x Reader) (SMUT & THREESOME)


 Requested by Anon(s) 


 "-And I’ll have vanilla, thank you! Huh toppings? Nah just vanilla man,“ 

 "Yeah just vanilla like everything else,” you mumbled.

 "Mmm what was that babe?“ He replied after licking his cone of ice cream. 

"Nothing Jared, drop it,”

 "I will not drop it, this is good ice cream, dropping it is just a waste!“ You rolled you eyes, you adored Jared but recently in felt like something was missing… sexually. You just felt like maybe you two could try something (or someone) new.

 "Oh come on I was joking sweetheart,” he said wrapping his arm around your shoulders. “Now what’s eatin’ you?”

 "It’s nothing,“ you tried but it was so unconvincing.

 "I’m gonna keep asking you until you get so annoyed that you answer me,” he announced, than pressed a cold kiss you your cheek. 







 "THAT’S IT NOW WE ARE OFFICIALLY DONE!“ Jared yelled and turned off the Xbox, both of you too were to competitive to play video games together. You smiled and kissed him, all of your angry words dissolving. You tried remove your lips from his but he just held you closer to him, pulling you into him as he laid back. His hand that was resting on your waist, slid down and squeezed your ass. You slid your hands under his shirt and crept it up his torso, he threw it off and pulled yours off as well, quickly bringing your lips back into his. 

 His hands snaked around your back and started working on your bra, you started kissing and nipping at his neck, working quiet moans out of him. Your bra dropped from your shoulders, "Meh didn’t need this thing anyway!” Jared laughed as he threw it across his room. As his hands started working on your breasts you unbuttoned his jeans and palmed him through his boxers. He let one of hands fall from your boob and unzip you jeans, he tried to slid them off your thighs and failed miserably. You giggled and stood up, stripping your body of clothing, Jared did the same. “Movies make all of this sex shit seem so easy, I don’t think I have ever had an experience that wasn’t at least slightly uncomfortable," 

 "Jared, you’ve only had sex with me, are you saying sex with me is uncomfortable?” You raised an eyebrow.

 "Well not intentionally, I imagine sex with anyone is uncomfortable. In the movies you can just throw the girl into a wall and start fucking her,“ he laughed taking off his socks, loosing his balance slightly.

 "Do it. Slam me against the wall," 

 "What (y/n) no!”

 "Wanna know what was bothering me earlier? Sex with you is so vanilla, you’re so afraid to hurt me, maybe that’s what I want!“ You yelled one arm over your chest the other waving through the air. 

 "Well fuck (y/n) I’d rather have Evan fuck you than hurt you during sex!” He yelled back, you had to admit it was kind of a funny sight, Jared yelling at you with his dick just, out. 


 "Uh you d-don’t have to,” a small voice stuttered from the door.

“Oh fuck. I forgot Evan and I were going to study for our test on Monday!” Jared said tossing you his shirt. You looked between Jared and Evan, both boys were obviously turned on and you were as well. You dropped Jared’s shirt and sauntered over to Evan, pressing your chest to his. You rubbed a hand against the excitement in his khakis, as you kissed his neck, him and Jared spoke in unison.

 "(Y/n) WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING!“ Jared practically screamed. 

 ”(Y-y/n) what are you d-doing?“ Evan whispered placing a hand on your bare waist. 

 You turned to face Jared, "Well you said you would rather have Evan fuck me than you hurt me, so unless you’re gonna pull my hair and slap my ass than shut up!” Jared may have been an ass but he was never a hypocrite. 

 "What do I look like to you, a Cuck?“ He yelled back.

 "Well that far away from your naked girlfriend, yes. But if you come over here and join us than no,”

 "But I’m not g-,“ 

You cut him off "Listen I know both of you are not completely straight, Evan you stare at too many boys to be straight and if it weren’t for Zoe Murphy I’d think you were gayer than her brother! And Jared you have multiple gay porn sites in your search history. That being said, you don’t have to fuck each other, you have me between you,” you scolded Jared, you knew he used his homophobic comments to cover up his own issues with his sexuality. 

 "I do not confirm nor deny your statements, but I do have one rule, he doesn’t get to like, go in you,“ he waved his hand back and forth. You nodded and lead Jared to the bed and then stood and faced Evan.

 "Is this all ok with you? You can leave and forget any of this ever happened," 

"And, and say no to this,” he gestured at your naked body. “I-I’ll be okay, I really want this,” you kissed his jaw, and left a trail of kisses all the way to his lips. You slid your hands under his shirt, and used you forearms to snake it off his body. He placed his hand on your hips and leaned down to kiss you, you made quick work of his khakis, dropping them and his boxers to his ankles. Taking his hand you walked t the bed where Jared had been jerking himself off to you and Evan.  

You laid Evan down against Jared pillows and placed Jared behind you, “ok so this is how this is gonna work, since Jared wants to be doing the penetrating, he can fuck me from behind. Evan you’ll be doing just about everything else. That work for you two?” They nodded, your pulled Jared into a hug and kissed him, pulling his forehead to yours you whispered, “I love you, to the moon and back,” he did the same. You straddled Evan’s hips and started leaving hickeys on his neck, he was already a whimpering mess. Your guided his right hand down to your clit and as if he’d done it a million times, he rubbed it in clockwise circles, you moans and bucked your hips into his hands. Jared’s jealousy was strong but Jesus this was hot, to see you getting off from so many new angles. He grabbed your hips and lined himself up with you, “Jared, oh fuck Evan. Jared c-Condom! Oh fuuuck,”

 Both Evan and Jared stopped moving and looked at you in shock. “How’d you know that he wasn’t wearing one when you can’t even see him?” You blushed and shrugged your shoulders. Jared rolled his eyes and did as you said, he also rolled one down Evan’s length. 

“You can never um be too s-safe,” he stuttered but ran his hand over Evan a few more times. The new feeling made Evan’s hand rub your clit harder and he groped your boob. 

“Oh fuck. Evan oh oh Jesus Ev,” you moaned, his hands felt to fucking good against you, they were rough from climbing trees. Jared clenched his jaw and thrust himself into you rather roughly. He was fucking you hard and fast, hitting your G-Spot over and over again, forcing your body forward, you ended up with Evan’s face just below your chest. Evan pulled you down onto him taking on nipple in his mouth, biting it and rolling it between his teeth, he grabbed his cock and used it to tease your clit. 

 "Oh fuckFuckFUckFUCkFUCK YES JARED OH GOD EVAN OH FUCK,“ you screamed their names. Jared’s hand tangled up into your hair, pulling your head back towards him, you moaned into the pain. 

 "You’re so beautiful (y/n), oh oh th-thank you oh fUuUuck,” Evan moaned as you rubbed his dick, you couldn’t believe he said thank you. His head dropped back against the pillows, you basically rendered him useless. Jared placed his empty hand in the middle of your shoulders, gently pushing your chest onto Evan’s moaning face. You hadn’t felt this kind of euphoria in so fucking long, it was too much, but the right kind of too much. Between, literally, Jared pounding your G-Spot from behind, pulling your hair, and squeezing your ass roughly, and Evan teasing your nipples and clit at the same time, you could feel your orgasm building up inside you quickly, the world stopped turning in the moment.

 "Oh holy shit (y/n) you’re so fucking tight. You’re so tight and wet, you fee so good on my cock,“ Jared moaned into your ear, using your hair to pull you closer to him, his length filling you. Your hand was running down his excitement, his tip flick over your clit repeatedly.

 "Wow, this is, this feels just, ooooh god god GOD wow (y/n), oh god (y/n) please. J-just like that. OOOh FUCK!” Evan yelled, you felt him twitch in your hand and he came. As he rode out his orgasm he used his hand, and roughly rubbed your clit. 

 "Oh sweet Jesus, oh fuck Jared, Evan, I’m close I’m so fucking close, oh oh fuck Jared harder, Harder, HARDER! Oh god Evan Evan please please, oh oh huuuuuuuuuuuu,“ you screamed as Evan and Jared worked your body over the edge, you felt like you were in heaven. You couldn’t think straight you can do hard, your body went weak and you collapsed on to Evan. Jared came moments later he let out a deep sexy moan as he came in you. He pulled out of you, cleaned himself up, and pulled you off Evan and into him. 

You realized two things, one: Evan didn’t know what to do next, and two, he just got a really good hand-job and after that he deserved more than what he got. You cleaned up Evan and started rubbing his cock. 

 ”(Y/n) w-what are you doooing,“ he croaked, your hand making him hard again. You took his length in your mouth and bobbed up and down on him, he tangled his hands into your hair. "Oh Jesus Christ, oh my oh my oh my GOD,” he yelled as you hollowed your cheeks and took all of him inside your mouth. You cupped his balls and moaned on his member, you could tell he was close and so could he. “(Y/n) I, I can’t last any longer. Oh my god you’re fucking amazing,” he could only form moans for the next twenty seconds. He came in your mouth, you spit it into the trash can and kissed Evan’s cheek. 

 Jared pulled you into his chest, you were facing him you kissed him on the nose and curled into him. Evan moved off the bed and bent down to get his pants, “Ev what are you doing. I have two rules when it comes to having sex with me, ask for consent and after sex cuddles are mandatory!” You said gesturing to the empty space behind you on the bed. He climbed back into the bed and pulled a blanket over the three of you. He wrapped his arms around you, Jared had one hand in your hair and one hand on your ass. Jared leaned up on one elbow and so did Evan, they shared a soft kiss and went back to cuddling you. Something told you this wouldn’t be the last time. 

What she says: I’m fine

What she means: Lim Changkyun dropped out of high school so he could pursue music and he didn’t even care if he was successful or not bc he just wanted to make music and be happy and then he joined Nu'Bility and they disbanded before they could start making music so he went on No Mercy and was treated as an outcast but he still worked hard to pursue his dreams of debuting and now he deals with feelings of inadequacy and the guilt of having stolen a spot in Monsta X from the other contestants despite the love and support he receives from the other members and he still works so hard and writes his own raps and he should be loved and accepted and appreciated for his efforts and all he does for Monbebes

Seven Minutes In Heaven (Jeremy Heere x Reader)

I wrote this originally for a request but i strayed from the prompt so far that it literally doesn’t fit it at all so,,,,I’m just positing it on it’s own and i’ll write the requested one later this week or something

Warnings: swearing, underage drinking, like,,, making out (it’s not nsfw tho it’s pretty tame)

Word Count: 1597

Requests: Open :-)

To say your friends were drunk would be an understatement. The eight of you were coming down from the emotional high of your senior homecoming, but from the looks of it Chloe had yet to come down from the four shots of peppermint vodka she downed ‘as a pregame’ before leaving from the dance.

Of course, you weren’t exactly one to talk, having drank about as much as the rest of them, indulging in some teenage irresponsibility as a way of celebrating your last homecoming. As Rich emerged from Jake’s kitchen with yet another handle of vodka, you couldn’t help but feel like the night would either be one lost as a result of all of you blacking out, or one that would live in infamy.

You were pouring about a shot and a half into a half empty sprite when Jenna emerged from the bathroom, holding her clutch up like a trophy.

“Let’s play seven minutes in heaven!” She said, a wicked smile on her face as she looked at me. My heart sped up a bit, knowing that she would find a way to get me into a closet with Jeremy.

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anonymous asked:

if you're still doin prompts..... could you give me some high school hl? if u want xxxx

Harry remembers every single moment of their first interaction vividly:

“Fuck, we have a test today?” Louis had asked. 

“Uh, yeah,” Harry said, smiling sympathetically.

“Fuck,” Louis repeated.

And then he sat down, right in front of Harry, just as he had been for the last month, and Harry bent under the table to fumble a pencil out of his backpack, finding that his fingers were actually—pathetically—trembling.

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hufflepuff! taeyong + slytherin! reader headcanon
  • listen this is entirely for my own benefit bc i fucking died as soon as i found out Taeyong was a Hufflepuff
  • my Slytherin ass became so soft
  • I actually want to make this into a fic but I suck at writing soo
  • Maybe not but if anyone LIKES this lmk
  • anyways
  • Taeyong is head boy 1000%
  • and he looks so cold and ur like.. 
  • how is he in Hufflepuff
  • He’s a badass
  • pureblood
  • quidditch team keeper
  • Hufflepuff won the house cup for the last 3 years because of him
  • also
  • his friend group is famous
  • Taeyong, Jaehyun from Gryffindor, Taeil from Ravenclaw, and Doyoung from Slytherin
  • everyone wants to be friends with them, all the girls are in love with them
  • you’re actually so confused how they even became friends??? they’re so different and in different houses and.. idk man
  • you’re a 5th year and you’ve been chosen as a prefect and you are SO scared
  • your friend Yuta is a 7th year prefect and he tells you you have nothing to worry about
  • but still
  • Taeyong is head boy
  • you’re going to have to interact with him
  • the closest you’ve ever been to Taeyong was when his friend group sat at Slytherin table last year
  • since they’re all in different houses they decide which house’s table to sit at every year
  • Taeyong sat like 3 feet away from you
  • every day
  • and you died every time
  • your face was constantly just cherry red
  • if sometimes he was a little closer to you than normal, it wasn’t just your cheeks that got red, it crept down to your chest and even your hands
  • your face got so hot and you felt like you were going to vomit
  • suddenly one day you just had to get out of there and you stood up and ran straight to the dungeons
  • the great thing (sometimes not so great?) about being in Slytherin is how chilly the dungeons are.. it helped you cool down
  • ever since that embarrassing moment whenever their friend group sat down at your table you immediately got up and left the great hall
  • eventually you’d be able to sense whenever he entered the hall and be able to leave before he got close to the table
  • you couldn’t let him see the way he affected you every time he got close to you
  • to be honest you’ve been kind of in love with him since your first year
  • Taeyong is lean now, but when he was in third year he was scrawny
  • he hadn’t dyed his hair yet at that point
  • but he still had that cold look
  • he fascinated you
  • he was good at everything
  • friends with everybody
  • you thought he should have been in Slytherin more than you tbh
  • you were a muggleborn
  • and you guessed you fit into the “ambitious” Slytherin characteristic
  • but honestly that was about it
  • you never fit in
  • when he got to 5th year and dyed his hair this silvery white color
  • your code name for him became Jack Frost
  • you even taped little pictures of the Jack Frost cartoon onto the top of your bed because it reminded you of him
  • so anyways
  • you did everything you could to avoid him
  • but Taeyong noticed when you blushed as he sat down
  • and he noticed when you started leaving before he could even get there
  • and he was so confused like??? does this girl hate me or smth???
  • Doyoung just told him to let it go bc you were quiet and didn’t even talk to him anyways
  • but Taeyong didn’t let it go
  • Eventually you were nowhere to be seen by the time he was in the great hall
  • So he kept a lookout for you
  • just as you had a radar for him he had the same for you
  • and while you would turn away if you sensed him close to you in the halls
  • he would look straight at you
  • trying to figure you out
  • the only person he ever saw you talking to was Yuta
  • and also occasionally a Hufflepuff named Mark
  • Mark was on the quidditch team with Taeyong as a chaser
  • so one day that winter Taeyong and Mark were getting some equipment out of the snow and Taeyong decided to ask Mark how he knew you
  • Mark was in your year and he was friends with almost everybody
  • He told Taeyong that you were paired up in charms second year and you would help him a lot and you’d been friends ever since
  • you were a muggleborn like him so you had a lot of things to talk about
  • he told Taeyong you didn’t have many friends because you didn’t fit in with the Slytherins that well but he still didn’t understand why because he thought you were amazing
  • and Taeyong was all like “huh. so uh… do you like her.. or..”
  • and Mark was like “nooooo nononononono we are just friends”
  • And Taeyong felt so relieved by that for some reason???
  • He didn’t understand why
  • But he continued keeping an eye on you that year
  • One time you were walking down what you thought was an empty hallway and you saw some candies floating in the air right in front of you
  • they were your FAVORITES
  • So you looked around before taking them to see if anyone else was there but you couldn’t find anyone
  • and you took them
  • This became a regular occurrence throughout the rest of the year
  • little did you know Prefect Taeyong had somehow managed to get your class schedule so he knew where you would be and he could place treats in your path
  • He hid around a corner so you couldn’t see him
  • He didn’t really know why he did it, he just liked seeing the smile on your face when you got excited about something so little
  • and the year ended
  • and he never talked to you once
  • and you never knew he thought of you in ANY way
  • and he became head boy and you a prefect and now here we are
  • you’re going to your first prefect meeting and you’re incredibly nervous
  • little did you know SO WAS TAEYONG
  • he couldn’t stop sweating because he saw your name on that prefect list
  • and Jaehyun kept asking him if anything was wrong on the way to the meeting but Taeyong brushed him off
  • he got to the meeting later than you and walked in to see you chatting with Mark
  • who smiled at him and said hello but Taeyong just smiled back halfheartedly
  • You immediately knew when Taeyong walked into the room but you just kind of tried not to pay attention
  • you looked at his shoes
  • and you could feel the blush creeping up your neck
  • !!!damn you and your inability to have ANY CHILL WHATSOEVER
  • Taeyong started the meeting and you calmed down a little bit
  • Yuta kept looking over at you and he noticed how Taeyong kept glancing at you
  • He smirked a little but kept it to himself
  • You heard Taeyong and the head girl talking about patrols and house points but honestly you didn’t pay much attention to anything
  • You did, however, know every single detail of those sneakers he was wearing
  • Suddenly the meeting was over and you had no idea what was said
  • But you began filing out of the room like everyone else
  • Taeyong was watching you go
  • And he was hitting himself because he was just letting you get away without saying ANYTHING
  • This was his chance
  • So he chokes out your name and asks you to stay behind
  • Your head perks up because… did he… really… just say. your name.
  • You didn’t even know he KNEW your name
  • you turn around and he’s looking into your eyes
  • So you step farther back into the room
  • You can feel your cheeks burning
  • so you know you must be seriously blushing hard right now
  • He kind of smiles to himself a little bit
  • but now he’s stumbling
  • he didn’t prepare himself and he doesn’t know what to say
  • so he stumbles out the only excuse he could think of after that meeting
  • and asks if you will be on the patrol with him tonight
  • You’re kind of relieved because you thought he might scold you after noticing you weren’t paying attention
  • so you squeaked out a sure
  • And he smiles this big smile with all his teeth showing
  • And he says “okay. I’ll see you here tonight”
  • And you turn around and BOOK IT OUT OF THAT ROOM AS FAST AS YOU CAN
  • You have to see Taeyong tonight
  • alone
  • oh my god
  • And Taeyong turns around and runs his hands through his hair and looks up to see…
  • Jaehyun is still in the room
  • Sitting in the corner
  • Smirking
  • He saw the whole thing
  • “Taeyong… I thought I was going to patrol with you tonight”
  • And Taeyong looks at him. And looks out to the door where you are. And he can’t get out of it.
  • So he tells Jaehyun that hethinkshemightlikeyoubuthe’snotreallysurebuthethinksyou’rebeautifulandfascinatingandohmygodpleasedon’ttellanyoneelseaboutthispleasedon’ttelltheotherguys
  • And Jaehyun promises to keep his little secret
  • Honestly he’s relieved because he’s never really seen him show interest in a girl before
  • So he leaves Taeyong alone in the room and starts walking back to Gryffindor tower only to see
  • you
  • alone in some long empty hallway
  • banging your head against the wall
  • and he smirks and gets on his way
  • He can’t wait too see how the rest of the year will play out

aaaaahhh this felt really long. idk if anybody is going to read this lol but I just got this really cute story in my head and I had to get some of it down. If anybody likes this I might consider making this an ACTUAL fic but… idk idk idk. This is the first thing I’ve ever written also so like any feedback would be appreciated

xoxo nat

Leave ‘Em On (Lin-Manuel x Reader)

Summary: Lin was ready to take you home before the night even started.

Word Count: 1,585

Warnings: Pretty suggestive, mentions of alcohol.

A/N: I’m kinda, sorta, really trash for suave!Lin and I was listening to trashy R&B which only encourages me more. I’m….really sorry for this. I had no idea how to title this.

“You almost ready, sweetheart?” Lin called and you bent down to slip the back of your pumps around your heel before you snagged your clutch from where it rested on your dresser. You waltzed out into the living room and his eyes were drawn by the clicking of your heels. You would’ve smirked when he gaped at you if you hadn’t been so focused on the tie he was fumbling with. You rolled your eyes and moved to take it from his hands.

“You look good.” Lin murmured and you hummed a thank you as you focused on unknotting the silky material, breathing a sigh of relief when you got it untangled seamlessly. He took the opportunity to swoop down and capture your lips with his, tilting your chin up so he could kiss you fully. His lips were quick to trail from your mouth to your neck, leaving a wake of brief kisses in their path.

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