everything she had to give up

anyone else kinda terrified you’ll never be able to hold a job in the future because of your mental illness

Nothing More [ I ]

Genre [Rating] : Angst

Length: 6.8k

Pairing: Baekhyun x Reader

Summary: Watching the man you love love someone else was the most painful feeling in the world.

Nothing More Masterlist

Originally posted by progamerbyun

The rain fell just loud enough for you to hear, the skies a beautiful but somber grey and the world feeling otherwise silent. The birds weren’t chirping. The neighborhood seemed empty. It was just you. You and your empty apartment and your thoughts. The all consuming thoughts that made the silence seem so loud. His voice just kept replaying in your head, like the soundtrack to the otherwise quiet moment.

“I think she’s the one.”

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Rivals? || Peter Parker Imagine

Pairing: Peter Parker x reader

Word Count: 2238 words

Request by anon: hi, can you please do a peter parker x reader imagine where the reader is tony starks daughter or something and she and peter hate each other but they low key have sexual tension or something like that? and the imagine ends with them kissing or something? idk sorry if that didn’t make sense

No spoilers homie

Originally posted by peterbparkerr


Y/N Stark always wanted a normal life. She hated being known as Iron Man’s ​daughter. She hated not being a normal teenager. For her entire life, she was home schooled,being taught from the best in New York. So of course, she wanted to go to a high school, to have the experience of hating her teachers and falling in love.

The first day of freshmen year was strange at Midtown High, most people didn’t know who she was until she told them her name. Rumors had been going around about the infamous Y/N Stark was attending Midtown, but nobody thought of it to be true.

Teachers would kiss up to her, not wanting to face the wrath of her father, Tony Stark. Everyone wanted to be her friend by the Friday of her first week in high school, everyone but one person, Peter Parker. He hated how she got treated like royalty by the teacher and the students, especially Flash, who did anything to get her attention. He hated how her grades were as good as his. The whole school knew about their rivalry quickly into freshmen year.

After Peter got bitten by the radioactive spider that gave him his powers, he knew he had to do something with his ability. Like his Uncle said, “With great power comes great responsibility.” This only convinced him more that he should be out there, protecting the people of New York. He was also happy that he finally got something that Y/N didn’t have.

He would never admit it to anyone, but he thought she was the most beautiful girl in the world. When she was around him, he was captivated by her beauty. They would share glances in the hallway but would both quickly look away from embarrassment.

Y/N didn’t hate him, she tried to be nice to him. She didn’t like how her dad gave Peter all of his attention, but she understood it was for a good reason. The two teens were always battling for first place for everything such as science fairs and debates. They were always neck and neck, him beating her as much as she did him. But, she thought it was cute when Peter did little things like tap his fingertips on his desk when he was nervous or whenever he spoke, she was drawn to his lips. She thought Peter was cute in general.

Most people saw his ‘hatred’ for her as love masked with hate. Everyone thought that by the end of high school the two would be dating. Peter’s friends tried convincing him to talk to her, nicely, but he wouldn’t. Y/N’s friends tried to get the two smartest kids at Midtown High together, but it just failed.

“Hey Dad?” Y/N asked while she sat at the dinner table alone with her father. He looked up from his food, “Hmm?” He mumbled back to her, with food in his mouth.

“Can I go to a-a party tonight?” She questioned, playing with the food on her fork.

“Where is it?” Tony asked, stuffing food into his mouth. Y/N looked up at him, “Queens. In the suburbs. A lot of my friends are going.” She added.

Tony nodded his head, “Fine you can go.” Y/N looked at her dad, eyes wide. “Really?” She exclaimed.

“Yes. But no drinking,” He stated, pointing his finger at her but paused, “Okay. Minimal drinking.”

Y/N smiled widely, nodding her head muttering, “Yeah, yeah of course. Thank you.” She ran up to Tony and hugged him.

She left her chair and went to hug him. “Let me take you.” He said as he hugged her back. Y/N pulled away furrowed her eyebrows, slightly confused at the man, “Why?” Usually if Y/N had somewhere to be, Tony made someone else take her so the act was strange.

Tony smirked, “Come on, you’d be the coolest person there because I have sweet cars.” Y/N nodded her head, agreeing with him. “Okay, well I’m gonna go get ready.” She beamed, running up the stairs.


Tony pulled up to you’re friends house, music blaring and red solo cups already littering the ground. He looked at Y/N, wondering where all the time went. “Ugh, you’re growing up, guess it had to happen sooner or later,” He joked, making Y/N giggle.

“I’m gonna go, I’ll call you when it’s over, or text you if I’m staying the night, alright?” She asked, exiting the car. Some of the teens who were standing outside or just got dropped off were staring in shock. Tony Stark just dropped his teenage daughter off at a party in a, most likely, a very expensive car.

Y/N slammed the door shut, “Bye Dad!” She waved with a smile, waiting for him to drive away.Tony smiled at his daughter, bidding his farewell before speeding away.

“God, she irritates me. She would obviously have her rich daddy drive her here in a cool ass car just to make herself look good.” Peter groaned as he went inside with Ned.

“Or maybe he wanted to take his daughter to a high school party?” Ned suggested, realizing that the statement didn’t make much sense. The boys walked over to the drink table. Booze, booze, booze. Whatever. Peter soon found the fridge and got water, in a red cup so people wouldn’t call him so prude.

Y/N had found a couple of her friends to hang out with. They were already buzzed, she wanted to stay sober just to make sure her friends got home safely.

Halfway through the party, Flash, the host, shouted, “Yo, if anyone wants to play seven minutes in heaven, bring your ass over here!”

About half a dozen people followed him. Everyone at the party was either too drunk to car about his statement or didn’t want to play the game where they were locked in a closet with a stranger. “Come on, let’s go.” One of her friends exclaimed.

“Yeah let’s go.” Herr other friend yelled.

“Um, I don’t think it’s a good idea.” She shouted over the loud music. Her friends rolled their eyes and grabbed either of her arms, dragging her in Flash’s direction. The group of people who wanted to play were already there, sitting in a circle, around a bottle that was resting on a table. She looked at the faces of all the people, and was met with the grimace of Peter Parker.

Her friends found an open spot in the circle so naturally, Y/N sat with them, sitting diagonally across from Peter. “You all should know how the game works. But, to those of you who don’t [cough] Peter Parker [cough].” Flash boomed, making his friends laugh. Y/N felt bad for him, he didn’t deserve to be treated badly. No one does.

“Whoever wants to start, will spin the bottle. Whoever the bottle lands on, you have to go into that closet,” He said, pointing to a closet nearby, “for seven minutes with that person. You can do whatever you want in there cause it’ll be locked. After seven minutes I’ll open the door and yeah. Start the process over again with the person next to you. So, who’s first?”

It was about 4 rounds into the game, and Y/N was getting bored. But she was glad she didn’t have to go in yet. After a pair came out of the closet, with lipstick smeared all over their faces it was Peter’s turn. “Be cool about it, there are a lot of hot girls in this circle man.” Ned whispered when Peter spun the bottle. Peter nodded his head, agreeing with his friend.

The bottle spun slower and slower, Peter’s hands were starting to get clammy. The bottle stopped and he looked up from the green glass. The person sitting in front of it was none other than Y/N Stark. All the teenagers froze, shocked at what had happened. “I-I gotta go,” Peter mutter, standing up from his seat on one of the couches.

“Na-na-na-na no,” Peter felt a hand on his shoulder, turning to see Flash, “You’re gonna go into that closet with your best friend Y/N.” Flash finished sarcastically, pulling Peter over to Y/N, before grabbing her arm and pushing them into the closet. Flash slammed the door closed, making the two flinch.

“Seven minutes starts now,” Flash shouted from behind the door, before walking away towards the group of teens.

It was quiet for about thirty seconds, the two both scared of talking to the other. There was enough space in the closet to leave you both a couple inches apart, but only a couple inches. “Um, I’m sorry you had to do this,” Y/N apologized sympathetically, “I should’ve never come to this stupid party.” She muttered the last part, shaking her head. Peter stayed silent, holding one arm with the other.

“Why do you hate me so much?” Y/N asked, desperate to know.

Peter sighed, “I-I don’t hate you. It’s just,” he paused, not knowing what to say, “I was so used to being the smartest kid in class and suddenly you show up, beating me in nearly everything. I guess I was just, jealous of what you had.” He admitted honestly, slightly frustrated. Looking down in between the two to look at his shoes. “You have everything in the world. You have a lot of money, a rich dad, and a bunch of friends.You’re fucking perfect. I don’t have anything like that.”

“I’m sorry,” Y/N apologized again, feeling bad for him. She started playing with her thumbs, “But, I’m not perfect, I hated what I had. My rich dad gives you more attention now than he gives me because of the whole, superhero thing.” She whispered the last part, not knowing if anyone was listening, “My friends only want to be friends with me because of my name and the money I have. It sucks, ya know?” Y/N finished, a few tears leaking from her eyes.

“I, I didn’t know you felt that way,” He said, regretting the way he has treated this girl for the past couple of years. He moved forward, closing the space between them, moving his hands to cup her cheeks, brushing away her tears with his thumbs.

“You didn’t deserve the way I treated you. I didn’t know what things were like for you. I am so sorry I was so rude to you.” He apologized, leaning his forehead against hers. Y/N reached up and placed her hands on his shoulders, squeezing reassuringly.

“You didn’t know, it’s alright.” She whispered, her breath fanning against his cheeks, and a small, understanding smile on her lips.

“But it’s not alright,” Peter murmured, rubbing one of his thumbs on her cheek. Y/N closed her eyes for a second, “If you kiss me, I’ll forgive you.” He looked at her slightly shocked. But he closed his eyes and tilted his head slightly to the right before leaning in and capturing her lips with his. She closed her eyes once again, putting her arms around his neck and her hands into his hair.

His lips were soft, and hers tasted like candy. Her nose brushed against his cheek, but the act went unnoticed. She started playing with his hair, twirling it around her fingers.

Unbeknownst to Peter and Y/N, Flash shouted that the seven minutes were up. He moved towards the wooden door, not hearing anything coming from the other side due to the loud music. He went to unlock the door. When it opened, he froze. “Holy shit!” Flash shouted making the two kissing immediately pull apart, out of breath.

Peter had a blush rising on his face, mimicking Y/N’s. Most of the people who were playing were curious at what was happening, a crowd forming around the door. “They were just making out!” Flash shouted with a smirk on his lips, making the blush on Peter and Y/N’s face deepen.

“Alright Parker!” Someone in the crowd of people yelled, making Y/N stifle a laugh. Peter glared at her playfully. The crowd of people began to fade away, Flash telling the two to get out of the closet for the next round of people to go in.

Peter and Y/N walked to a place in the house where there wasn’t a herd of people. “So, do you want to go to the movies with me sometime?” Peter stammered, nervous about what her answer might be. Y/N smiled, “I would love too, Peter. Now, go enjoy the rest of the party. I have to go deal with my drunk friends.” She chuckled starting to back away. 

Peter nodded his head understandingly, “I’ll text you then. Yeah?” 

Y/N tilted her heard to the side slightly. “You better. You don’t want to make a Stark angry.” She said with a chuckle, walking back towards her friends.

Peter fist bumped the air, before whispering to himself, “I have a date….. awesome.”

Part Two

I learned more about love in those few months than I leaned on my entire life. Not the kind of love you have for your family, your friends, the people you look up to. The kind of love that makes you go “oh, i kind of want to spend my whole life with you”. I also learned the hard way what “heart pain” is. Most of the days were fine, even great I would say, it was good to feel everything, it was good to feel a love I never felt before, it was good to have someone. But truth is I never had her, she was never mine but I was hers. Oh I was truly hers, I gave her every piece of me and I would give her more if I could. I learned that that’s a funny thing about love, you give, you give everything, you give everything until you are left with nothing. The day I realized she was being happy with someone and doing just fine without me, that was the day it hurt and from that day on I could only hear my heart breaking and breaking every time. This is a part people don’t often tell you. Sometimes your heart is not gonna get broken at once, it’s not gonna be fast, it’s not gonna be easily over. Sometimes your heart will slowly get broken, you will start to know what words you want to avoid to not listen to your heart cracking one more piece. And sometimes, sometimes even when you know all of that, even when you know this is bringing you pain and this is slowly breaking you, you won’t leave, you will choose to stay. What a weird thing humans do, we stay and we let ourselves get hurt. Sometimes we choose love.
—  G.P.
Mothers’ Weekend

Hello there! Long time, no see (my bad I know) but, here: an Alicia Zimmermann-centric piece as she goes to Parents’ Weekend during Jack’s freshmen year. [focus on Alicia, Jack, and Shitty] 6k


Somewhere, deep in her heart, Alicia Zimmermann knows she is a bad mother.

It started out as a worry, as maybe it does for all new mothers, that she will be a bad mother. That she won’t know what to do with a baby or a toddler that one day she will accidentally drop him or forget to feed him or feed him something he is actually allergic to or maybe she’ll scar him emotionally somehow and she worried but she survived his childhood okay. And then, after he was five or six, she stopped worrying about it. She thought she was doing pretty good. Jack had hockey and loved hockey and, sure, they didn’t have deep emotional talks but she didn’t exactly have any basis of comparison. Television families told her she was doing okay. No teenage boy wanted to have deep talks with his mother. And, look, if Jack didn’t talk to her all that much as he turned 12 and then 13, at least he was still talking to his father. Mostly still about hockey but she… she thought that had counted. Hockey was like French, to her. Another language she could understand but couldn’t quite speak. But Bob could. He was on top of it. Jack was taken care of.

She loved Jack. That was never the problem. The problem was that her love wasn’t enough. It didn’t matter. It didn’t alert her to any of the facts and maybe it even blinded her– She loved her son and her son loved hockey and so she loved hockey too. She loved her son and then her son seemed to love a boy named Kent and they never talked about it but she let Kent come over all the time and she figured they would discuss it at some point. She just… assumed everything was okay. Even after he was diagnosed with the anxiety disorder and given pills. It was always… well, that was a little problem but it’s handled and under control and everything is okay now.

See. Bad mother.

A good mother would have known somehow.

A good mother would have pushed and prodded or sensed it without even having to be told.

A good mother would have paid attention to how hard Jack was on himself. A good mother would have made sure her son had interests outside of hockey. A good mother would have known that Jack’s long silences after losses weren’t normal. A good mother would have preached balance and fostered friendships with different types of people and stopped the fucking hockey.

She didn’t though. Stop the hockey. No, not Alicia Zimmermann. She encouraged it. She went to the games and cheered the loudest and she even loved it a little bit because she thought it brought him joy, like his father. She bought into the vision: Jack playing hockey like Bob, the Zimmermann legacy continued throughout the ages…

God, she even used to tease Jack about how it took his father three years to win a Cup and she was sure Jack could manage it faster than his old man.

A good mother wouldn’t have done that. So, see, she’s always been a bad mother. Even now, now that she’s almost lost him, now that she’s promised to do better, now that she’s finally read all the books and online articles about anxiety and pressure and the danger of sports and hockey culture… now she’s still just as bad. Just for different reasons.

Now she is a bad mother because it’s Saturday afternoon and he’s been at Samwell for almost three months and she does not feel like mothers are supposed to feel in this moment.

She glances around. At the sea of other mothers and fathers crammed onto Samwell’s campus for Parents’ Weekend. They are not nervous. They are excited. Happy. Enthusiastic. Overjoyed to see the teenager they had left just a couple months ago again. To her right is a father almost (but not quite) breaking into a run to give his son a hug. To her left, a mother has burst into tears. Happy tears.

And then there’s her. She’s not excited to see Jack. Well, no. No, it’s not that she’s not excited. She is. She is. (She is. She repeats it once more just to remind herself). She is just…

She is nervous too. More nervous than she is excited.

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i think it’s time i told you (i’m a fan of your universe) (1/1)

Years after Hawkmoth’s defeat, Ladybug and Chat Noir have a conversation about life, love, and marriage.

Ladybug checked her communicator for the third time that night, and frowned.

The green pawprint blinked idly back at her, resting at a junction between city streets—the same place it had been every other time she’d checked.

They hadn’t arranged to meet up that night. It was her turn for a solo patrol tonight, and there hadn’t been any trouble big enough to make calling for help a necessity. She’d stopped a couple muggings, interrupted a robbery—normal, small things. Nothing that needed an extra pair of hands.

And, sure, they both transformed just for the fun of it sometimes. Sometimes they caught one another out on morning strolls or midnight snack runs or impromptu patrols, but usually those involved moving around.

Chat’s tracker hadn’t moved in the past two hours.

She shouldn’t worry—Hawkmoth had been in jail for the past three years and Chat wasn’t in a bad part of town right now—but…

But…

The green pawprint blinked at her from the same junction, at the same pace, unmoved.

Ladybug abandoned the end of her route and headed downtown.

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A Cinderella Story | 01

Min Yoongi | Fluff | Comedy | Smut | ACS!au | Fratboy!Yoongi | 

word count: 10k+

warnings: cumplay, mutual masturbation, phone sex, tribute, explicit language

❝ Your infatuation with Min Yoongi has to be what is the most exhausting part of your life, and in an attempt to help you get over him your friends convince you to join an online adult chat room. Unbeknownst to you the online freak you’ve been sexting for the better half of a year is your childhood crush. Just how much worst could this situation get? One fated night, a confession gone wrong and a lost phone with an almost laughable amount of nudes on it will tell all.  ❞


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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.

Little Things

MASTERLIST

A/N: This is my very bad attempt at something cute, but you know… Fluff isn’t my best. Also a bit different from what I’ve done in the past, so feedback would be great. I messed up the months, I’m aware. 

Word count: 3,365

Pickering, Canada
April 2024

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i have too many feelings about michelle jones so here have headcanons and peter x michelle

this was obnoxiously long because i have no control so lots of stuff is under the cut and it became very fic-like at the end there, whoops. 

one (THIS ONE!) | two | three | four | five | six | seven | eight | nine

  • so michelle moved with her family to new york when she started high school
  • and mj was actually pretty sad to leave her friends back in chicago because it had taken a long time to make those friends and she always feels awkward around new people
  • so she isn’t very happy about The Move
  • she comes from a loving family
  • like, she gets kissed every night before she goes to bed, her parents read her bedtime stories until she was ten, she used to wear matching outfits with her mother, family movie nights were every friday
  • her parents were really good to her for the most part and just loved and supported her
  • they’re also pretty smart and since mj has pretty much always been inspired by them so intelligence and the acquisition of knowledge is really important to her
  • hence reading and academic decathlon, but she’s also into math and science too because she’s very driven and doesn’t have that many friends in new york so what else is she gonna do?
  • and her parents are an interracial couple and they’ve encountered a lot of hate and mj was always so sad when she walked out with her mother and people would give them weird looks
  • so she’s tried to end hate whenever she can and fights to give a voice to those who are silenced
  • but now cue mj going to high school in new york
  • she joins academic decathlon ofc because who do you think she is she lives for this shit
  • and then! there is this little shithead on the team PETER PARKER
  • like who the fuck does this kid think he is
  • answering all these questions, acting like he’s sooo smart just because he happens to know a lot of facts and is really good at physics and speaks spanish really well and also happens to be really dorky and adorable and okay maybe he’s kind of attractive too and maybe mj starts throwing herself more into academic decathlon and possible CONSIDERS joining band but that’s ONLY BECAUSE PETER IS A SHITHEAD AND SHE NEEDS TO SHOW HIM HE ISN’T THE ONLY TALENTED ONE OKAY
  • anyway

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anonymous asked:

Ahhhh can I request headcannons for the dads when their kid gets married?? (Bonus for Dadsona and Amanda!!!!)

i got this bro -dad dan

Mat and Carmensita- Mat insists on having the wedding at his coffee shop, casually decorating the store with white drapes and flowers. He closes his store for a day and spends a long time baking a cake and pastries for a small buffet table. It would be a super chill and cozy wedding with acoustic music and slow dancing. During the vows, Mat gives Carmensita and her spouse matching daisy flower crowns. They aren’t the best crowns, but he did his best making them, staying up all night watching a youtube tutorial on how to braid them. He’s emotional when it’s all over. He’s happy for Carmensita- it reminds him how he felt when he got married.

Brian and Daisy- Brian goes all out because his daughter deserves only the best. They have the wedding in the backyard of his house. Brian rents lots of white chairs and tables, and asks the guests to bring home baked food for the buffet table. He builds a little gazebo for them to say their vows in and paints it white. He sat in it for a while and got really sad and emotional because his daughter is gonna say her vows in it, right where he’s sitting. When the wedding finally comes around the entire family is there, and he’s beaming as he walks her down the aisle.

Craig and Briar/Hazel/River- Craig had been a little sad since all the girls moved out for college. When Briar and Hazel got married, they decided to combine their wedding into one huge event. But when River got married, the sisters agreed to have it at the abandoned softball field they used to play at. When Craig hears this he’s estatic. He starts cleaning up the field and helping the girls with all the arrangements. During the wedding he can’t stop crying because oh god that’s his baby. Grown up. Getting married. When everyone’s gone the four of them play catch with each other (imagine the twins going into a professional softball league? yes)

Joseph and  Chris/Christie/Christian/Crish- He rents out a beach for all of his kids’ weddings. He hires a choir, a mini band, a bartender for a minibar, as well as a high-end catering service. He invites everyone in the church and the entire family. Joseph spares no expense for all four weddings- the decorations, food, and music are all the best he could get. He tries to be happy during the wedding, but he can’t- he’s worried that they’ll end up in a marriage like his and Mary’s. He hopes that- maybe, if the wedding is nice enough- they’d be happy.

Hugo and Ernest- As Ernest grew older, he grew closer with Hugo. He was the first person Ernest told when he got engaged. Early on in high school he discovered his love for animals- he went to the zoo and aquarium with Hugo a lot. They decide to plan the wedding at the aquarium. During the ceremony the guests can’t stop looking at the fish, a penguin gives birth, and someone sets off a fire alarm (Lucien, probably), but Hugo couldn’t be happier for Ernest.

Damien and Lucien- Damien thought Lucien would want a great wedding- something extravagant with a big venue and gorgeous decorations. But after talking to him about the preparations, it became apparent that Lucien had too much anxiety for a huge event like that. Instead, Damien went to the courthouse with Lucien and his spouse. They signed papers there and had a small party afterwards. Damien was excited for Lucien all the same and was still incredibly excited the entire time. 

Robert and Val- Val invites Robert up to Brooklyn for the wedding. When Robert got the invitation, he couldn’t believe it- partly because he was invited, and partly because she was engaged and he didn’t know. The surprise turned into guilt, and the guilt turned into panic. He had no idea what he was going to get her. Even though she assured him that he didn’t need to get her a gift, he found a perfect one- something he knows she’s wanted since she was a kid. At the wedding, he gives her a small Boston Terrier- and she loves it. 

Dadsona and Amanda- Dadsona was surprised when Amanda announced she was getting married. She said she didn’t want to make a big deal out of it- which reminded the Dad of the last time they had a celebration. Dadsona planned the wedding in the backyard and surprised Amanda with it, just like he did at her graduation party. Dadsona gets emotional while setting everything up- a small, cheesy wedding with a mac bar and ice cream cake. He invites all the dads in the cul de sac and their kids. Dadsona watches Amanda and her spouse sit under the cherry blossom tree, just like he did when he fell in love.

Hatred (Wonho X Reader)

Admin: Candi
Request: “Hello! could i request a smut where you and wonho hate each other? – anon”
Fandom: Monsta X
Member/reader: Wonho x Reader
Genre/warning(s):  smut, humiliation, strong language, dom!Wonho (VERY DOM), choking, scratching, blood, ok let’s just say extremely hardcore sex so it’ll be easier??? (trigger warning) 
Words: 4k (not even sorry)
Authors note: Just a heads up, this is really rough. I’m hella proud of this and I hope you enjoy this. I adore writing Wonho smut BUT I ALSO WANNA WRITE FLUFF BECAUSE HE DESERVES ALL THE LOVE. But yes, this is hella intense so like just a warning so you won’t die? Or get offended. Basically rough sex, nowhere near vanilla so if that’s what you’re expecting this is exactly NOT it. I’m not even sorry at how dirty this is.

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Stuff from the Falsettos: In Conversation event!

William Finn, James Lapine, and Stephanie J. Block blew my mind several times yesterday and I wanted to share some cool things I learned about the show!

tl;dr: Falsettos beat Spiderman, Bill Finn and James Lapine should have their own sitcom, aND THE BANANA BELTING MOMENT WAS INITIALLY AN ACCIDENT

  • Packed house in Westport Country Playhouse. It was quite ironic because the event was free, but everyone there was hella rich. Hella. I know this because they started thanking donors at the beginning and there was one family there who had just donated a million. And literally not a single person was a POC. My middle-class Asian ass felt awkward.
  • It was Bill Finn, James Lapine, and Stephanie J. Block, moderated by Andrew C. Wilk (to whom we all owe our lives because he’s the executive producer of Live From Lincoln Center)
  • He told us cool stuff about filming Falsettos. There were ten cameras. He said that bringing all these huge cameras in was like your drunk uncle coming to a party
  • According to Andrew, when it first opened in cinemas, apparently in some markets FALSETTOS BEAT SPIDERMAN?????
  • YESSSSS FALSETTOS THAT’S MY FANDOM
  • Even Andrew couldn’t believe it
  • He was like it doesn’t sound true but I’m going to say it because it feels good to say it
  • And, as I mentioned in a previous post, he confirmed the PBS airdate as October 27 and he said that Falsettos might even have a second run in cinemas.
  • Andrew brought the three in. Audience went wild.
  • He asked them what the main theme of Falsettos is. Bill Finn says that it’s about what it means to be a man (which it seems that the Tumblr fandom has really hit upon in all the analyses, so good job Tumblr!!!)
  • And they talked about casting Stephanie J. Block. Bill said that she came in and auditioned with Holding to the Ground (“which isn’t a very good song,” says Bill) and he had never heard it sound that good
  • Stephanie has a very subtly poetic way of talking about things and it’s really moving?? She described Trina as a woman who constantly has “a well of tears” (she gestures at her throat) right here.
  • I’ve been there.
  • Andrew mentioned how her life is very different than Trina’s–she’s happily married with a beautiful daughter–and he asked her how she accessed Trina’s character
  • She talked about how she had taken a few years away from theater since her daughter was born. When Finn and Lapine called her about Trina to see if it’d be right for them and for her, she felt very insecure and scared going back to performing. The way she put it, in her state at the time, every emotion was at her fingertips. But she drew on this insecurity to play Trina. She said she listened to Falsettos and felt that she knew Trina.

Originally posted by trinaweisenbachfeld

  • Bill Finn is a CHARACTER. Cracked the entire audience up. He communicated almost exclusively in mumbled one-liners
  • When James Lapine was explaining the whole March of the Falsettos and Falsettoland Act I-Act II thing, Bill Finn was like, the first act’s not as good as the second act
  • Excuse me, Bill, both acts are masterpieces
  • So the format of the evening was that they would show a clip from the film and then talk about it, which was so cool. Watching the three of them watching the film was surreal, but one part was even more surreal
  • I’ve never seen that many elderly people in a room laughing hysterically over dick jokes
  • Partway through the event, Bill Finn started complaining about the fact that there were so many Act I clips, and Lapine was reassuring him that the first act was still good
  • I’m like HELL YEAH IT IS
  • He and James were hilarious together; they just bounced off each other and said such complimentary things about each other’s work and they would have full conversations with just their eyes
  • Okay, so we watched I’m Breaking Down, of course. Then Stephanie and James Lapine talked about the process of staging that scene. That was a gold mine.

Originally posted by trinaweisenbachfeld

  • According to James Lapine, the boobs were all Stephanie’s idea
  • James Lapine REALLY wanted to have a dummy bloody finger. He wanted to have Trina chop off a piece of her finger and there would be blood spurting and the audience would be freaking out over whether the actor actually was injured. He was very attached this idea and stuck to it until the very end. Everyone else was like James pls no. Eventually, it had to go because of the possibility of fake blood staining the costumes or set pieces
  • Stephanie warned us that she was about to make a pun but that she had to because it was so good, and then she said “the finger was cut”
  • And she was super proud of herself and grinning at the audience
  • James Lapine tried to high-five her, but she was too happy to see
  • (She finally noticed and high-fived him back)
  • The iconic banana belting moment was an accident????
  • Okay okay so this is a GREAT STORY
  • So y’all already know all about how it’s the actors themselves moving all the set pieces throughout the show. Stephanie says that it was Anthony Rosenthal who had to do most of the moving
  • So if any of the banana pieces fell, it was “poor Anthony” who had to clean them up
  • One day in rehearsal, sure enough, some banana pieces fell
  • Stephanie felt bad and didn’t want to make Anthony clean it up, so she picked them up and freaking SHOVED THEM INTO HER MOUTH
  • BUT SHE FORGOT THAT SHE STILL HAD TWELVE BARS OF THE SONG LEFT
  • When she finished, James Lapine was like O.O do you think you could do that often
  • The rest is history 

Originally posted by upsettoland

  • I have so many Bill Finn anecdotes that I don’t know which to share
  • Like I said, Bill would mostly communicate in mumbly one-liners
  • Example: we were about to watch This Had Better Come to a Stop, and Andrew asked Bill to set up the scene for the audience (they explained all of the context for everything in case some audience members hadn’t seen Falsettos)
  • Bill: Whizzer is misbehaving and Marvin gets mad.
  • Andrew (laughing): Is that it?!
  • Bill: Yes.
  • (Lapine swooped in to give a more in-depth explanation)
  • But!! Bill would sometimes suddenly speak up and say something so incredibly thought-provoking 
  • They were talking about the unlikability of Marvin, and Bill talked about how a professor he had at Williams said that Jane Austen made Emma so unlikeable so that we could learn to like her
  • And Bill said that he listened
  • We finally got to Act II (Bill was very happy about this) and we watched the baseball scene. 
  • Apparently, James had said to Bill that they needed a group number with everyone in it. At that point, Bill had already written the entire baseball scene in his notebook except for a few final chords, and he was like oh here you go I already wrote one.
  • James: When were you going to give me this?!
  • Bill: When you needed it?
  • And Bill talked about what he referred to as the “handball scene.” James apparently staged the thing before Bill even wrote it.
  • James: Bill, that was racquetball.
  • Bill: Oh, I thought it was squash.

Originally posted by htmlarry

  • BILL GOT JAMES LAPINE SO CONFUSED ABOUT THE LESBIANS FROM NEXT DOOR
  • Andrew was asking about the Lesbians from Next Door and Bill was like, the lesbians are actually from In Trousers
  • And James had this wait hold up facial expression and he said, I didn’t even know this. Who were the lesbians???
  • And Bill was saying Ms. Goldberg and the high school sweetheart and by then, James Lapine looked like the galaxy brain meme
  • James was like, but that’s just the actors, not the same characters, right?!
  • Bill said yeah they’re completely different characters and James looked very relieved
  • James: We’re great together. On our own, we’re a disaster.
  • Stephanie was talking about how she feels like as a young woman, she didn’t have the life experience to appreciate the complexity of Bill Finn’s story and lyrics:
  • Stephanie: “I liked to tap dance and put on red lipstick and make people happy with musical theater.”
  • And suddenly Bill Finn yells, “ME TOO!!!!!!!!!!”
  • Imagine the kind of person who could write both “BITCH BITCH BITCH BITCH FUNNY FUNNY FUNNY FUNNY” and “this here is love when we’re talking face-to-face,” and you’ve got a pretty solid idea of Bill Finn
  • I know I haven’t talked about Andrew Wilk enough, so I’m going to reiterate here that we all owe our lives to this man. And he was so sweet and charismatic. I love this man. 
  • Near the end, they talked about us!!! The Falsettos fandom! Stephanie said she wants to call us kids, but she knows we’re teenagers and people in our twenties. She lovingly called us a cult and talked about all the banana memorabilia she has received and talked about how the cast sees pictures of us going to the cinemas in 80′s clothes/dressed as the characters. Stephanie thinks it’s so great <3 
  • Stephanie says that she’s not sure she’ll ever do a show as important as Falsettos again. She says there are so many wonderful shows, but in terms of “important”? It’s hard to find.

Originally posted by musicalsaregreat

  • The final scene they showed was Jason’s Bar Mitzvah and What Would I Do? and it was too much. You could hear people crying softly.
  • The last half hour was Stephanie doing a mini-concert (accompanied by the Falsettos conductor/pianist Vadim Feichtner!) and when she belted, I thought the back wall was going to blow off
  • She sang a bunch of gorgeous songs, interspersed with her talking about what these songs mean to her, but among them were “Don’t Rain on My Parade” and Holding to the Ground” (FIGHT ME BILL IT’S ONE OF MY FAVORITE SONGS EVER) and “Defying Gravity” (Wicked is the show that got me into musical theater, so this was really special to me) and I cried
  • An absolutely beautiful evening.

Originally posted by nikolaevna-romanova

  • Post-script: without announcing it or anything, they very quietly set up a signing with Stephanie in one corner. I spotted the table coming in, so I went to check it out afterwards, and SURE ENOUGH THERE SHE WAS. 
  • I was literally the second person to get there and there was no line behind me because people hadn’t realized yet. She signed the hand-out I got at the cinema (asking me who she should make it out to and addressing it to me in her beautiful swoopy handwriting!) and I told her I went to see Falsettos six times and she said, “I miss it every day, (my name). Every day.” And I asked her very hesitantly whether it’d be okay to get a picture with her, and she instantly said, “You ready?” Hence the selfie I posted last night. I CAN’T BELIEVE IT.

That was my day in Falsettoland!! I hope this stuff was interesting :) I love this show so much and I just wanted to share the cool stuff I learned!

5 Years

- You and Harry are poor and Harry hasn’t seen Anne in years. He misses her so much that you suprise him with plane tickets to visit her.

A/N: This is quite short, but it’s such fluff I am in love.

Masterlist linked in bio.


“This is shit! All of this is shit!”

Harry’s hands violently shoved all his crumbled pieces of paper and music journals off of the kitchen table before pounding the sides of both of his fists against the wood, refusing to contain all the frustration that had only seemed to increase inside of him any longer.

He had been trying to write new music for the past three weeks. After visiting the local record label for what felt like the hundredth time since he’s moved from home, they still refused to sign him until he figured out a way to produce music that “didn’t sound like everything else.” He’s tried everything—from writing about his love life to writing about all the angry shit scrambled inside his head—yet nothing seemed to gain their interest.

At that point, Harry had run out of ideas. There was absolutely nothing else he could think of writing about that he hasn’t already, and it was as if every possibility of making music in his future had suddenly turned into a false hope.

It was all he had, though—writing and producing music was the only thing he had going for him and the only chance he had to make money. But it was so much harder than he ever thought possible, for he had been trying for years to gain recognition for his creations, yet nothing came to his avail.

He was on the brink of giving up on everything at that moment—everything.

“Fucking shit!”

Y/n ran from their shared bedroom into the kitchen after hearing the chaos Harry had riled up. By the time she reached the dining table—which was normally used both as a place for them to eat and Harry’s office—he was an absolute wreck. Between the mess upon the floor and the cries that seemed to obstruct the silence that had once been, she had absolutely no idea what to do.

“Harry, wh—what?”

“I can’t—I can’t live like this anymore!” He sobbed, his head in his hands as his lungs began to fail him through his words.

He couldn’t continue living through their financial crisis; between his dead-end attempts to make a career out of his music and Y/n’s minimum wage salaries, it was nearly impossible for them to live a life they both deserved. Their memories were trapped inside an apartment that could barely fit the two of them, all their passionate nights were shared on a mattress with no bed frame, and their life together remained stagnant for far too long.

Harry loved her more than he’s ever loved anything before, and the thought was enough to terrify him.

She deserved so much better than him—she deserved a man that could provide her with all her needs and wants. She deserved every bit of the earth and Harry could barely offer her a fraction of it. He could only provide her with his love and the scraps he made from his failures.

She deserved so much more than him.

“Oh, baby.” She whispered.

She kneeled down to where he was sitting, pressing her forehead to his as she played with the hairs that raided the nape of his neck. She was well aware of how hard their living situation was—especially for him.

He worked hard enough for the both of them. He worked relentlessly, often times skipping meals or refusing to have a proper night’s sleep until he had something done—whether it was a new song idea or even a newly written verse. Stress took over his every move and Y/n knew he wasn’t living a healthy lifestyle.

He was losing himself slowly, and it pained Y/n beyond words to see him live the way he was. She wished she could offer him more help than she was already giving him, but she was busy, too, and she never felt more upset with herself.

“I need my mum.”

The words he’d spoken an innumerable amount of times fell from his lips without much thought.

He hadn’t seen her since he decided to move away with Y/n, which was four years ago at the time. He had sacrificed his entire life to start a new one with Y/n. He figured that moving away with her to a different city would be his opportunity to start fresh on his music career and start making enough money for him, Y/n, and his family.

He had sketched plans upon backup plans to get his music going. He searched through all the different venues, music companies, music managements—everything he could think of—and spent nearly every hour practicing and writing.

He never expected that what he had to offer wasn’t good enough.

To those he showed his music to, there was a list of improvements they felt he had to make. They claimed that his music was either too mainstream or too different, and there was absolutely no in between. He found himself in a rut with his creations and it was far too late to move back in with his family since he nor Y/n were making enough money to pay their rents, bills, and a plane ticket back home.

Anne wasn’t able to afford visiting him either, though, so there was absolutely nothing the either of them could do besides wait until Harry’s music career started to take off—if it ever did.

He missed Anne more than anything. Although he was in love with spending every day with Y/n and getting to experience all of his miserable life with her, he missed the feeling of his mum being around him all the time. He missed absolutely everything about her, especially when he had his emotional breakdowns.

She was his rock and his provider his entire life, and he relied on her for everything until he decided to move away. She kept him sane through all his hectic times and was there for him when nobody else was.

Anne wasn’t only his mum, but she was his best friend, and continuing to live without knowing when he’d be able to see her again was Harry’s own personal hell.

“I know, darling.” Y/n whispered as she let his tears soak her shirt and his body shake in her arms.

He kissed her where her heart was as he squeezed her more into him. His entire world was in his arms and he’s never needed the weight of it more.

“Don’t ever think I regret my life with you, love, please don’t. But my mum, Y/n, my mum—I miss her so much. Phone calls don’t mean shit to me because I’m not w—with her.”

She only nodded, letting him vent to her without any interruption. It brought her comfort whenever Harry was having a breakdown, as sick as it sounded—it just brought her peace knowing that he was letting out all of the emotions he kept in for her sake. He was human, after all, and he deserved to have his moments.

“I need her, Y/n. I need her to hold me and tell me that everything is going to be okay. I need her to kiss me and tell me how proud she is of me even though I’ve done nothing but fail those around me—like I fail you—and just hold me like she did when I was a kid.”

She shook her head instantly, slowly pushing his body away from hers in order to her eyes to meet his. They were red and soaked with tears, but they were beautiful and was always what got her weak in the knees.

The pads of her thumbs wiped away the tears that fell onto his cheeks, making sure to kiss him a couple of time while doing so.

“You never fail me, Harry. You give me a new reason to fall in love with you every single day and I thank God for you every time I look at you. Your love never fails me, nothing you do fails me. So never think that again, you hear me?”

And she really meant it more than ever, especially in that moment of Harry’s vulnerability. Her heart always hurt knowing that he wasn’t aware of how much she actually did give her, even if it wasn’t materialistic. Nobody provided her with as much love and safety as he had, and it was something she’d never be able to get enough of.

He got her through all her troubled times and all her insecure moments. She needed him and wanted him more than anything money could buy, and she’d spend the rest of her dying days attempting to make him believe it.

“You’ll see your mum soon, okay? If I can promise you one thing, it’s that you’ll see her soon.“

She kissed his cheeks again before they sat in silence together, all wrapped up in each other’s arms as they waited for Harry to finally calm down. They hadn’t found a lot of time within the past three weeks to spend loads of time together, so even just the half hour of holding one another was enough to mend him quite quickly.

“Can you promise me something else?” He breaks the silence, his voice slightly hoarse from the screaming that took place earlier.

She nodded.

“Can you promise me that whenever I see my mom again, that you’ll be there? I want you to meet her so properly and make her see why I want to marry you someday. I really want her blessing.”

She ran her fingers through his hair, grazing her lips softly against his forehead before muttering a small “I promise.”


That was a year ago.  

Ever since that night, Y/n made it her first priority to find a way for Anne and Harry to reunite. She never wanted to see that side of Harry again, and she’s been through the God awful pain that came from missing a parent. Y/n had lost both of her parents in a car accident, and she never wanted Harry to go through what she had to for the following years.

So, she started working double shifts at her job—gathering and saving as much money as she possibly could for a couple of months straight. Airfare was quite expensive, especially since she planned on buying two round-trip tickets and intended on being able to pay the rent and bills for that month and somehow buy food and necessities during the trip.

She intended on leaving it a surprise for Harry, as well, and was able to make up plenty of excuses as to why she wasn’t able to be at home as much. He was quite upset, but she found it was quite easy considering Harry was keeping busy with his music throughout that time as well.

To say she was exhausted was an understatement. She had never worked so hard in her life and never thought she had it in her to make as much money as she did. It made the living situation slightly easier during the time. She knew every lost hour of sleep and every extra second spent working would all be worth it in the end.

And it was all worth it, especially now.

The confirmation for her order is right in front of her; two round trip tickets to Holmes Chapel. It’s a sight she’s been desperate to see for a year now, and she lets out a sob as she reads the words over and over again. It’s real, it’s happening, Harry’s ticket to happiness is right in front of her and she has never felt so accomplished in her life.

As she prints out the tickets from her nearly broken down printer—that took her almost two hours to fix—she contemplates whether to wait a week for their sixth year anniversary or just go to him now and gift it to him.

But as she stares at the plane tickets in her hands, she just can’t keep it a secret any longer.

Y/n’s holding everything Harry’s needed right in between her fingertips. Everything that Harry has worked so hard for is right here, inked on printer paper right in front of her and there’s just absolutely no way in hell she can keep this information from him—he’s waited long enough.

She eagerly makes her way to their bedroom, a slight squeal leaving her lips as she makes her way to the doorway of their room. She sees Harry in the bathroom, dressed only in a pair of black boxers as he shaves the stubble under his chin.

He smiles softly upon her entrance, but quickly goes back to shaving the extra bits of his facial hair. She bites her lip at his nearly fully exposed body, but quickly regains her composure as she remembers exactly what she’s here to do.

“Sweetums?”

Harry pats the excess hair from his razor as he looks up.

“Hm?” He hums, his eyes drifting away from his reflection in the bathroom mirror over to where she stands beside their bed.

She has tears in her eyes, but they’re much different from those Harry has seen before. Normally, along with her tears comes a frown on her face and red-tinted cheeks—only the smallest examples of how much her features drown in sorrow whenever she’s upset. But as he stares at her in the way she looks now, there isn’t a trace of sadness within her. Instead, her lips are up in a slight grin and the eyes that are filled with tears are staring at him in admiration. She’s glowing, too, and he swears he wants to look at her in this way for the rest of his life.

“What’s that, love?”

He nods his head slightly, referring to the two pieces of paper that are clenched between her fingers.

She takes a step closer to him as her eyes gleam at the man she’d do anything for. She wishes nothing to be as close to him as possible in this moment, but also wants to be far enough so that she can fully see the product of a man who’ll finally be reuniting with his mother.

“I got you tickets to see your mum, Harry.”

As soon as the words leave her lips, Harry nearly chokes. He drops everything on the floor—his shaver and his comb hitting against the counter and nearly breaking to pieces around his feet. His hands grip along the edge of the sink, face paling and eyes widening at her through the bathroom mirror.

He almost thinks he misunderstood her somewhere—that maybe what she actually said got scrambled in his head to somehow make him hear what he could only dream of hearing. But her face reassures him that he did, in fact, hear her currently and that he just couldn’t believe it.

Y/n’s tears fall down her cheeks as she giggles, observing how he still hasn’t moved a single muscle and the color in his face still hasn’t returned.

“You’ll be at home for a month and you’ll be leaving in two weeks.”

She takes another step closer to him, her smile never fading as he finally lets out a choked sob. Tears are already forming in his eyes and his hands hold tighter against the sink, but words seemed to be trapped in his throat and all that his brain can process is the pounding of his chest and the air that has yet to be knocked out from his lungs.

“I know that when we talked, you said that if you ever had the chance to see your mum again that you’d want me to come with you. I figured that that would be unfair to you, since you have spent so much time with me and haven’t been able to see her in so long. I decided to compromise and—and I’m only visiting for the first week but I figured it’d be enough time to—Harry?”

Her eyes narrow i concern as she watches him nearly fall backwards from his prior position, nearly tripping over his own feet as he finally turns around to look at her properly. Neither of them say anything as Harry stumbles towards her frame—eyes still bewildered and face still pale. He nearly trips over the sheets on the floor, but he quickly regains his balance before his hands find their way upon her cheeks.

He wants to say everything he’s thinking—he wants to tell her how thankful he is and how much he loves her. He wants to express every ounce of gratitude and give her everything she’s ever deserved in this moment. Hell, he wants to get on his fucking knees and worship all the blessings she’s ever given him and love on her until she can barely speak anymore. But all that falters nearly seconds after he reaches her.

“Harry—“

He sobs—complete soul shaking sobs. Everything he’s feeling completely overwhelms him to the point where he ends up on his knees. His body collapses and his lungs are constricted but he has never felt so good in his life.

Y/n falls with him, cradling him again her chest as she presses chaste kisses along his forehead. Her hands rub up and down his back in an attempt to calm him from his cries, but he doesn’t back down. He’s hasn’t felt this amount of happiness in so long that he feels there’s nothing else his body can do.

He reaches his hands up to her face again, admiring her from what he can see between all the tears in his eyes and the squinting of his lids. He presses his lips to hers, but the kiss doesn’t last long before he’s sobbing again—bringing her face down to the dip of his shoulder while he holds her there.

She giggles, shaking her head softly.

“Didn’t I promise you, love?”

Significance

A NIGHT AT WORK | NAMJOON VERSION 

WORD COUNT: 9K 

He was a professor, and you were his favourite.

During your first year of university you found Mr Kim to be quite the English teacher, you always anticipated his class every Thursday and Friday afternoon and it seemed your hard work didn’t go unnoticed either. Late night extra credit classes soon became a place for your deepest and dirtiest desires.

warnings: graphic smut, dirty talk, rough sex, squirting, strong language 

Originally posted by just-namjooned

masterlist | ask | song

Keep reading

for you final [m]

Pairing: Jin x reader x Taehyung

Genre: badboy!Taehyung

Word Count: 5,723

Warnings: mentions of alcohol and drinking

A/N: I have been really sentimental today and have also been lying through my teeth about when I would upload this. Thank you all for being on this journey with me. I may or may not have sobbed while writing this. And I may or may not be willing to write an epilogue. Thank you for the past 7 months of support you’ve shown this series. I hope the ending doesn’t disappoint.

originally posted by vminv

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Final

“I can’t believe you’re actually here!” Momo almost screeches as you step out of the front seat of Mina’s car.

“Thank god,” you retort as you smooth your hands over your irritated stomach, “I don’t think anyone’s driving has ever made that car sick before.”

“Hey!” Mina protests as she pulls your bags out of the backseat, “I got us here over an hour earlier than the GPS predicted.”

Momo snorts as you shoot a glance at your speed demon best friend, “I think I have some ginger tea somewhere in my apartment. We can make you some to settle your stomach.”

“You don’t. The only thing you have in this apartment is potato chips and pig’s feet,” Sana teases as she joins all of you on the driveway of Momo’s complex.

“I’ve missed you,” you admit as you wrap your arms around your two best friends, “Please don’t leave me alone with her for that long.”

“I heard that,” Mina hisses as the car door beeps as it locks.

Sana doesn’t let go of your shoulders as all four of you proceed into Momo’s apartment, “It seems like we have a lot to catch up, but do you want to shower first? You smell.”

You sniff you armpits, “I do not!”

“That’s because you can’t smell yourself,” she gently pats your back as she barely shows your around the apartment before she is shoving you into the bathroom and turning on the shower, “We can go to dinner once you’re ready.”

Keep reading

Award Show Season // H.S.

She stood at the dresser, heels kicked off to the side and her dress half way unzipped. She was finishing taking her hair down, pin by pin. She noticed Harry standing in the door way. His bow tie untied, hanging from his collar, his shirt almost all the way unbutton but still tucked into his trousers and bare foot. He watched her closely. She’d gotten him all kinds of worked up through the night. Not that she meant to. She rarely meant to but he just loved the way she looked in her dress. Looking so prim and proper beside him.

His tongue darted from his mouth for just a moment, wetting his lips before he spoke. She glanced over at him and felt her skin heating from his gaze. She knew what was about to happen but he loved her surprised looks when he threw her to the bed or kissed her hard. She went back to her own image, trying to ready herself for bed. Harry came up behind her, kissing down her neck lightly. She tried to contain a sigh as his hands slithered over her hips to her abs. His fingers dug into her satin covered flesh for just a moment. Harry’s strong hand slid down her thigh, making his intentions clear.

“They have no idea.” Harry whispered in her ear. She lifted her eyebrow as she watched him entwine her in his embrace. His lips skimmed up her soft neck, “They have no idea what you do to me.” He clarified. “They way you stare out over the auditorium with that little red painted pout. Asking me to kiss you, to devour your lips with mine.” He murmured against her ear as he swiped his thumb over her bottom lip. “The way you cross your legs like your hiding a little secret.” He smirked gliding his hand up her dress between her thighs. “They think that you’re so polite and adorable. They all thought that you were the good girl the way you hung off my arm. With the way that you stood there taunting me with your hips and those legs. They thought you were the perfect woman.” She chewed on her lip as he spoke to her. He was creating a fire within her. He knew it with the way he smirked and said, “But there is one thing that they don’t know. That they’ll never know.” She looked into his piercing green eyes through the glass. “They’ll never know what I do to you when the doors are closed. They’ll never know how you scream and the dirty things you say when I’m inside you, making you regret looking so proper and perfect.” Harry smirked even more feeling her melting against him. “They never would’ve guessed what I am about to do you to.” Harry whispered, making sure his lips brushed her ear and his breath rolled over her skin.

Harry grabbed her by her waist and tossed her onto the bed. She laid on her back, staring up at him, eager for him to make another move. She loved these moods of his. She loved the way he was demanding and ferocious. She loved the way he asserted himself and made her turn into a burning mass of desire. Harry knocked his knuckles against her thigh, signaling for her to spread her legs. When she did so without hesitation, he smiled.

“My baby knows what she needs now.” Harry snickered, kneeling between her legs. He grabbed the straps of her dress and pulled it off her with no resistance. He tossed the pricey garment to the floor like it was a rag. Harry bit his bottom lip to see she had on no bra and no panties. “Bad girl.” He chuckled leaning over to place a chaste kiss on her. She bit her own lips and reached for his shirt. She pulled his shirt from his trousers and finished unbuttoning it. Harry threw that to the ground as well. She sat up and grabbed the button of his trousers. Harry happily let her unbutton and unzip the pants then drag them down to the center of his thighs. Without a moment’s noticed she had her lips wrapped around his cock, sucking and licking. Harry groaned and buried his hands into her perfectly curled hair. “God they have no fucking idea what you do to me.” He hissed, feeling his now engorged cock hitting the back of her throat.

After another moment, Harry pulled himself from her mouth. He pushed her down onto the bed roughly, but not to hurt her. He removed his trousers quickly, not wanting to waste anymore time. When Harry crawled back onto the bed, between her legs, she smiled up at him, ready for whatever he was about to do to her.

“Do you want me, baby?” Harry asked her teasingly, lining his cock to her soaked cunt. She nodded slowly, he bottom lip between her teeth once again. She whimpered when he pushed just the tip inside. “Tell me.” He smirked when she whined as he pulled out. She stared at him with wide eyes. This game was new. He stuck just the tip in again, a whimper falling from her red painted lips. He pulled out, “Tell me you want me the way I’ve wanted you all night.” She opened her mouth to speak but couldn’t get the words out. She was to preoccupied with him teasing her with the tip of his huge dick. “Baby.” He teased again, it evident in his tone as well. Finally, she got fed up with his games. She sat up then pushed him to the side, making him land on the bed, on his back. She swung her leg over his hip in the most seductive way he’d ever seen. She sunk down on his cock with a heavy sigh.

“I want you.” She moaned as she began to rock her hips slowly. Harry struggled to breathe for just a moment because of the speed of events. “I want you.” She panted again. Harry brought her torso down to meet his. He meshed his lips to hers passionately. It was an interesting turn of events but he loved it. He gripped her hips tightly, to keep her where she was. He began to thrust upward quickly and with force. She cried out loudly into his neck and twisted the sheets beside his head. She tried to lift her hips to ease some of the pressure but Harry just held her where she was. Harry grunted lowly and in rhythm with his thrusts. He was giving it his all. She was going to be screaming his name. No one knew that his perfect princess of a wife could turn into a temptress with a salacious mouth. He wanted that side of her to come out. He loved it. He thrusted harder when she made that delightfully familiar squealing sound. She was about to come. Harry slammed her mouth onto his as he released one of her hips to caress her clit. She broken the kiss with a string of screamed profanities. Harry smirked and flipped them so she was pinned underneath his body.

“Are you ever going to act like that again at an award show?” He asked her with a deep and dominating tone.

“Every fucking time.” She replied with a smirk of her own. Harry slammed his still rock hard dick into her again, eliciting an earth-shattering moan from her lips. He felt his insides waver at the sound. Harry took her wrists in his hands and pinned them to the bed above her head. He pounded into her with force and speed again. Her moans and panting breaths were driving him closer to his own release but he loved playing with her like this. Harry was a bit shocked when she was able to free one of her wrists from his grip. She let her fingers dance down Harry’s side lightly, creating a trail of sensitive skin behind. He smiled gently at her when she gripped his rear. She smirked up at him before giving him a firm swat right on his ass cheek. Harry meshed his mouth to hers fiercely, biting her bottom lip to show his dominance. She screamed out another list of profanities as her insides clenched around his cock. Harry biting her lip had driven her over the edge. She laid shaking underneath him as he still drilled her with everything he had. Another orgasm coursed through her soon after, her body not being able to handle his strong thrusts and intense speed any longer.

Harry’s body grew weak and he started to moan louder. She moved her hips with his trying to bring him to his climax. His thrusts grew uneven and he couldn’t contain it anymore. His legs tensed and his dick twitched inside her. He groaned loudly and lustfully as he came, filling his wife with every ounce of his desire. He collapsed on top of her, exhausted from fucking so hard. She wrapped her arms around his neck and tangled her fingers in his hair. She kissed his shoulders and neck tenderly. Harry lifted himself from her body after just a moment of laying in her arms. He fell to the bed next to her. She smiled as she looked at her husband. His hair was a mess, sticking to his face because of how sweaty he was, but she loved it.

“Ever going to act like that at an awards show again?” Harry asked her with a knowing smile.

“Every fucking time, baby.” She replied with the same smile. Harry pulled her into his arms again. She rested her head on his chest and stroked his sweat soaked skin lovingly. They laid in silence for a long while, just listening to and feeling each other breathing.

“I’m going to have a bruise on my ass.” Harry laughed kissing his her hair lightly.

She looked up at him with sweet, tired eyes, “Sorry, honey.” She then stated, “My lip is bleeding a bit. I can taste it.”

Harry pecked her sweat covered forehead, “Sorry, love.” He then placed his mouth over hers. She moaned slightly when he began to caress her bottom lip with his tongue and suck on it gently, trying to ease the almost non-existent pain. “Maybe next time, we shouldn’t get so carried away.” He murmured backing away.

She shook her head with a smile, “Where’s the fun in that?” Harry smiled as well, not so worried that he’d been too aggressive toward her. “But next time…” She began. “I get to tell you how I feel about you watching me the way you were. All sexy with your bow tie and shirt undone.” She stated with a glint of mischief in her eyes.

Harry smirked, “Why wait?” She grinned as she sat up and he knew that he was in trouble.


I suck at smut :( I’m Sorry

2

~College!au Pen Pal Jungkook~ PART TEN

[part 1] [part 2] [part 3] [part 4] [part 5] [part 6] [part 7] [part 8] [part 9] [part 11] [part 12] [part 13] [part 14:END]

Your mind was a jumbled mess. Y/F/N? What did she have to do with anything? He said she was his pen pal? How?

More importantly, why? 

You thought he found you out and that made your stomach drop. But this feeling? This feeling was much worse. Now, you lost your friend and it wasn’t even for the right reason. Someone had stole your identity. And it was your very own best friend?

You paced around your room, letting out ragged breaths, waiting for her to stop by your dorm as she did every week. 

Your eyes flicked through the conversation again and again and it only made you feel worse about yourself. Even if Jungkook found out it had been you, either way, he would’ve been just as angry and betrayed. God, you were so stupid. 

At the sound of your room door opening, your head shot up. Y/F/N sauntered in with a big, fat, grin on her face. 

“Hey, Y/N,” she greeted, chirpily.

’Hey, Y/N’? That’s how you want greet me?” You kept your voice low and whispered. 

“What’s the matter? Looks like you’ve been crying,” She cocked her head to the side.

“‘What’s the matter?’” You chuckled, dryly. 

“Okay, if I’m just here to have you repeat everything I say without giving me a reason, I’m just gonna go–”

“How could you tell Jungkook that you were his pen pal?”

She blinked at you, taken aback. “That’s what’s got you so upset? Oh come on, Y/N.” 

You nodded your head, a dumbstruck expression on her face. Did she have no idea how fucked she made your life?

“Jungkook thinks I lied to him!”

“Well, technically…you did,” She pointed out, rolling her eyes. 

Leaning your head forward and furrowing your brows with a frown on your face, you scoffed. “Yeah, but now it’s even bigger lie because you told him you were his pen pal!”

“Ugh, so what? Do you know how annoyed I got whenever you two hung out so much? First, you ditch me for him, and then he actually enjoys hanging out with you, oblivious to the lies you’ve told him! And whenever we all hung out, rarely because you two wanted to hang out alone and do God knows what, all of his attention was on you! Not good for a girl’s self esteem. Especially a girl who was interested.”

You opened your mouth to answer before she cut you off.

“So, I took matters into my own hands,” She shrugged. “It was the perfect opening and I wouldn’t be at any fault. I’d be that mysterious girl you showed me those screenshots of on your messages and I picked up on her…your tactics. Then blah blah blah, I ‘accidentally’ bumped into him, gave away who I was, and we hung out!” By the end of her statement, she looked pleased with herself. Like she had won the trophy.

“But you do realize where that leaves me, right?” You muttered, looking down. 

“Stop being so dramatic! You guys will befriend again and we’ll all hang out! You won’t have to worry about having two personas because he got my number! So it worked out for you.”

“But it didn’t! He’s still going to be mad at me and won’t trust me!”

“And who’s fault is that for lying in the first place? You already had your chance,” She challenged. That left you silent. It was your fault. Since the very beginning. No matter what happened between you and Jungkook, you weren’t–your friendship wasn’t–going to last.

“Why now, though? Couldn’t you have told me first?”

“And have you instantly shut it down because of your precious friendship? Face it, Y/N, it was always going to be you and Jungkook over me, right?”

“That’s where your wrong. Don’t you think I would do the exact opposite? Why the hell would I want Jungkook all to myself when I have that guilt burning inside me whenever I look at his face?”

Y/F/N closed your her mouth before opening it again. “I think you know the answer to that question,” She muttered, darkly. 

“It was rhetorical! The answer is I wouldn’t want him all to myself!”

“Y/N, fuck, first I thought you’d be relieved. Look! Now, he’s off your back…and what do I get? Yelled at? You’re being such a hypocrite right now and you know it. You claim you don’t want him around because of your ‘guilt’, but now that you won’t have to worry about it, you’re still angry! You shouldn’t be angry. You had this coming, admit it.” The both of you were fuming right now. Y/F/N had a point but there was no way you’d let her get the satisfaction. 

“So you just chose him over me, huh?”

“You would’ve done the same. Face it, Y/N. This cute relationship you two have going on, it was going to end eventually. I’m just doing you a favor, saving you from him finding the real truth. At least one, maybe two eventually if I’m lucky, of us might have a happy ending,” And with that, Y/F/N walked out of your room. The door slammed and you threw the pillow you had been squeezing, at it. 

Tears brimmed your eyes, but deep down, you knew, it was inevitable. You were going to lose Jungkook.


Well, damn. That was…ouch. Just wait till Jungkook answers tho…. Who here likes Y/F/N? Anyone? *crickets*

Part 11?👀

yellow t-shirt - peter parker

Yellow T-Shirt - ((Tom Holland)) Peter Parker x Reader | 3rd Person

Prompt: (soulmate au in which people are colorblind, and the first color they see is the color of their soulmate’s shirt; but you don’t get to see all of the colors until you and your soulmate finally meet) While watching over the city as Spiderman, Peter notices a yellow t-shirt in the distance, letting him know that his soulmate is in the city, and Peter has to do everything in his power to get to her.

a/n: 400 follower special!! this one is kinda long and kinda cute, and i really enjoy it! sorry for the wait i’ll try and get back on my weekly imagines! thank all 400 of you babes for sticking with me! i love each and every one of you with all my heart!! (I’M AMERICAN I SPELL IT COLOR NOT COLOUR I’M SORRY OK)

word count: 1.9k


People had always tried their best to describe colors to Peter. Everyone always told him how bad they felt for him, how sorry they were that he couldn’t see in color. It wasn’t like Peter already knew, though. It wasn’t like Peter didn’t know how much it fucking sucked to be the only person he knew that couldn’t see colors.

The thing was, everyone had a different “thing” that would help them meet their soulmate. Some people had tattoos, others had timers, Peter felt like he got stuck with the worst one. Colorblindness. His first ever color would be the one of his soulmate’s shirt-or at least, that’s what he was told.

There was only a few other people Peter knew that had the same thing as him. They all described it the same, the first color you see is their shirt. After that, you still don’t see any color except for their shirt until you officially talk to and touch them. Once you did that, it all floods in. The love, the happiness, the colors.

Peter felt bad for the girl that was going to be stuck with him. She couldn’t see colors either, and her reward for seeing colors was a piece-of-shit trashcan of a guy. Who even knew if she was in the city, let alone the country. And even if she was in the same city, the girl would have to be dragged into Peter’s mess of a life. God, Peter wished that he could’ve gotten anything other than this stupid colorblindness.


(Y/N) had just moved to Queens, and to be honest, she hated it. She went to a school full of idiotic people that smoked weed in the bathrooms during school and drank their lives away every other weekend. The teachers couldn’t give a shit about what college the students went to or what careers they might end up with.

Not to mention, people constantly teased (Y/N) for her outfit choices. She didn’t know how to match colors or any of that, she was colorblind. It wasn’t a genetic thing or anything of that sort, it was a soulmate thing. To be honest, it sucked. Everyone at her high school had already found or had a good idea of who their soulmate was. It was easier for them, they all had timers and tattoos. It’s harder when all you have to go on is walking by someone and finally see their shirt color.


Surveying the city may have been boring, but it had become routine for Peter. It felt like a job to him, as a superhero he felt obligated. And though he wouldn’t admit it, there was another reason he did it. Underneath the “it’s my job to protect the city” bullshit, Peter did it so that he could try and find his soulmate. When he stood atop the buildings, he could see so many people come and go, and maybe he would finally see a colored shirt.

Putting his suit on, he stood on top of a building. Everything was in different shades of gray, black, and white. The sky was a light gray, it was actually “blue” he had been told. His suit was a dark gray with other areas of lighter gray. Tony had said it was vibrant shades of “red and blue”, and no matter how many times people tried to explain colors, it didn’t really help.

He was finally beginning to give up. Maybe he would never actually find his soulmate. She could be anywhere on the damn planet, and there was a possibility that the pair would never meet. Peter sat down with his knees bent and his elbows rested on them. He played with his web-shooters and sighed.

Just then, he saw something that wasn’t gray. Peter shot up, almost falling off of the building and scrambled to his feet. He took off his mask, not caring who saw him, just to make sure his eyes weren’t playing tricks on him. Peter rubbed his eyes and blinked a few times, but it was still there.

It was a color. A fucking color. Peter was ecstatic. He couldn’t describe it and Peter felt like he might cry. The shirt was that new color he saw, and the girl wearing it was gorgeous. Even in black-and-white, she was pretty. He couldn’t see her that well from where he was, but her smile pulled on his heart and her eyes held a genuine happiness as she talked to the person.

In awe, Peter’s jaw dropped and after getting over the initial shock, he smiled. It was the kind of rare smile that you only saw planted on the face of love-sick people. The kind of goofy grin that you couldn’t stop even though your cheeks ached. It was the kind of smile that made the sun jealous of how brightly it shone.

Then, after a few seconds had passed, the girl disappeared. She had walked away and Peter didn’t see which way she had gone. “Fuck!” Peter cursed. He fumbled with his mask and put it on quickly. Peter swung from building to building and followed the girl. But after she walked into an apartment complex and the sun started to set, he realized what time it was and promptly made his way home.

Finally being on time for once, Peter’s aunt, May, ate dinner with him. “Any luck with the soulmate thing?” May casually asked, not wanting to pry but also wanting to know if he had found a girl yet.

“Actually, I think so. Yeah.” Peter said smiling, his cheeks turning a light pink.

May practically choked on her food and squealed congratulating Peter. The two continued to talk about random things; like their day, what was happening at school, and other things like that. Once the food was finished, Peter washed the dishes and went to bed. Tomorrow was a Saturday, meaning Peter could spend his whole day trying to find the girl.


(Y/N) woke up on the Saturday morning and left her apartment after saying a quick “I’ll be with some friends” and walking down the street. It was a cold morning and she wore a light-gray (”pink” was what her parents called it) sweatshirt over a gray (“yellow” as her friend said) t-shirt.

After walking inside the coffee shop, she ordered her drink and sat down after receiving it. She pulled out her laptop and worked on some schoolwork. After working for around two hours, (Y/N) pulled off her sweatshirt and exited the shop. Her backpack was slung over her right shoulder and (Y/N) walked down the sidewalk.

(Y/N) heard a loud crashing noise and everyone turned to look what had caused the commotion. That is, everyone except for (Y/N) after she heard someone yell “Spiderman!”. Unlike many other girls, she wasn’t obsessed with him and continued to walk without even glancing at the so-called “superhero”.

She didn’t want to go home that day. Home meant problems. Home meant that her parents would make her go to school on Monday. Home meant people asking if she had any friends or if she was “adjusting” to the move to Queens. God, (Y/N) hated it. She got that her family cared but it was annoying because she wasn’t “adjusting” to the move.

Turning into an alleyway with a backpack further down the alley, she slumped down against the wall. Her own backpack was nestled into her side and she let out a sigh. Sure, it was probably unsafe to sit in an alleyway by herself but, fuck it, what did it matter?

After messing around on her phone for a minute or fifteen, she heard someone grab the backpack further down the alley and do something with it. (Y/N) genuinely couldn’t care less what the noise was and as long as it didn’t affect her, she just let it be. It wasn’t until she heard someone yell “It’s you!” did she turn her head.

It was Spiderman, the actual Spiderman, in front of her. His outfit in color and all. Her jaw practically hit the floor as she studied the boy in front of her. Though she didn’t really care that he was Spiderman, a part of her was internally freaking out. It was like a fiction novel, her soulmate was a superhero.


Earlier that day, Peter tried to look for the girl but someone had decided to rob a bank the exact moment he donned the suit. He groaned and went to stop the person who was robbing the bank. The person wasn’t that hard to take down, though, they were just a petty thief that held a store at gunpoint with an empty gun.

After that had been taken care of, Peter realised it was probably best that he was Peter when he met the girl and not Spiderman. Walking back to the alley, he picked up his bag and was going to change when he saw the girl. The girl wore a different shirt of the same color as yesterday and he couldn’t help but yell out “It’s you!”


Now, Peter awkwardly stood as the girl, his soulmate, stared at him in disbelief. He reached up to take his mask off. After the mask was off, Peter ran a hand through his hair and smiled at the girl, who returned the smile with an equally bright one.

The girl stood up and opened her mouth, “Hi, I’m (Y/N) and I’m your soulmate.”

Peter let out a small laugh and said, “Hello, I’m Peter and I guess we’re soulmates.” (Y/N) smiled at him and stuck out a hand, which he happily shook.

Then all the colors came rushing in. Peter saw her hair and eye color, and (Y/N) finally saw Peter’s mess of hair and eyes in color as well. The city changed around them. Even the alleyway they were in was prettier than it was in black and white. (Y/N) and Peter looked around them as they finally saw the colors.

(Y/N) finally broke the silence, “I guess these are colors,” she said, a small smile placed on her face as she looked into his eyes.

“I guess so,” Peter replied in awe.

“Now about the…” (Y/N) said trailing off and gestured towards the suit Peter was still wearing. 

“I guess I have some explaining to do,” Peter said smiling, “Do you want to go grab a coffee or something?”

“I would be happy to, soulmate.”


also if u like this pls tap that little heart over there bc it really motivates me to write more and i appreciate every single one of you ♡ and if you ever have an issue (spelling/grammar or even the concept) just dm me!