he looks so young in this picture

I want an episode where Gabriel tries to Akumatize Marinette.

As in: “on purpose”. He did it to Nino, he did it to Simon, he did it to Santa, he can do it to anyone.

And so Gabriel meets Marinette, this passionate kid who really loves fashion, pastel pink, and banana-haired young models, as she is visiting Adrien, and he decides to ruin her day, because it should be about as easy as stealing jewelry from teenagers candy from a baby.

Gabriel has mastered ‘unpleasant jerk’, practically has a PHD in it. It’s second nature. When you look up 'ass’ in the dictionary, you find his picture next to a stock photo of a donkey. So he tunes it up to 'extreme ass’, aka ‘his normal’, and destroys Marinette’s hopes and dreams by, I don’t know, telling her she has no future in fashion except maybe as a costume designer for underfunded live action superhero shows.

She is devastated.

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so I was talking with @gitwrecked about the Space Dad mentality and how rare it is that Shiro gets to have fun like the other Paladins do. A lot of fic and art either assume Shiro’s the responsible character, or leave him out completely while all the Paladins are having fun - and that’s always bugged me, a bit. Shiro so rarely gets a chance to play those games, or make mistakes, or be smol, or be taken care of in any way. In fandom, Shiro’s almost always the Responsible One, whether that’s in charge of the team, assisting with the team’s personal affairs/relationship woes Via the giving of Dad Advice, etc. etc. Even the mentality that back at the Garrison Shiro must’ve been tight-laced, Perfect, and Always Responsible is just…it doesn’t make sense, to me. Considering everything he’s been through, can’t our Shiro be allowed some fun?

Shiro would’ve been a COMPLETE troublemaker back at the Garrison. Hardworking and dedicated, sure, but once he proved himself and climbed up the ranks, so to speak? Kid could get away with ANYTHING. Nobody can keep a straight face quite like Shiro. Nobody knows why there’s always one particular flight-bike returned with just a bit less fuel than the others, nope, no sir. No, nobody knows how the doors to the hangars were left unlocked and a trio of cows slipped in last night. Nope, definitely not. Shirogane? Nope, definitely not involved. What kind of person would think that of Innocent, Responsible Shiro?

Shiro gets away with a lot of stuff like this. Matt only eggs him on, the little troublemaker. The two of them would make SUCH a pair, wreaking havoc, always messing things up, and the worst part is Iverson can NEVER PROVE IT. If Matt has even half the hacking skills of Pidge? Nothing would be safe. The rosters? Weird how Shiro and Matt are always in the same classes. Any type of list? Funny that the mess hall’s serving chocolate cake for dinner for the fourth night in a row, how odd. The simulators? 

Dear lord, the simulators.

Fake missions. Weird Easter Eggs left behind in mission logs, so the freshmen are running these simulations and that’s definitely a duck that just flew past us, sir, how is a duck faster than this ship? Weird loopholes, one set of canyons that definitely loops you back to the beginning just after you exit. Missions with heavy-loss scenarios that light up at the end with a huge message saying APRIL FOOL’S. Just messing with everyone.

[Iverson: WHO LET HOLT INTO THE SIMULATOR PROGRAMMING?
Matt, deadpan, as the newbies running the simulation have to fly through a series of caves in a mountain that looks suspiciously like a nose (only access point is through the nostril): It’s my computer programming final, sir. 
Iverson, who didn’t check all the course syllabi: Shirogane, is this true?
Shiro, without batting an eye: Yes sir.]

In addition to the ability to lie their way out of every inquisition, Matt and Shiro are pretty clever at this. They don’t have to lie often because they don’t get caught. They’re extremely cautious, planning tricks weeks or months in advance, well worth taking the time to pull it off well and cover our tracks than it is to get caught and give up the whole game. (I’m not saying they were Weasleys of the Garrison, but.) 

I wonder if this is also one of the reasons Lance looks up to Shiro so much. Picture one night a very young and impressionable Lance sneaking out of his dorm after hours, trying to get a level up by gaining just one extra peek at the simulators (poor bab wants so badly to be fighter class), and in so doing caught the rarest of rare events: Shiro, sneaking out of the simulator programming room.

And Lance doesn’t mean to, but he stumbles right into a trashcan and makes a huge clatter and Shiro’s head whips up and the two of them just stare at each other. Lance’s heart is going a mile a minute, he’s going to get in trouble, that’s Takashi Shirogane, the straight-A Perfect Responsible Top Of His Class Pilot - 

Shiro draws breath. Lance winces, waiting for the reprimand.

“Can you keep a secret?” Shiro asks, and winks.

“Uh,” stutters Lance, floored.

And then the next day Lance is watching the simulator runs with his class, but for whatever reason the Simulator’s infected with some sort of weird bug. Anytime anyone fails at any part of the program the screen rains down confetti on them. Forgot to buckle your seatbelt? CONFETTI. Effed up that landing? CONFETTI. Turning to hurl into the main gearbox- 

“Shirogane,” Iverson growls, “Did you program this run?”

“Must be a glitch, sir,” Shiro says, completely straight-faced.

And Lance is a goner.

4

I was on the beach yesterday and I was walking and a gentleman came up to me and said ‘are you here for the conference for the festival?’ and I said yeah I am. He said ‘are you an advertiser?’ and I said no I’m a performer, I’m here to talk to a group of females CEO’s because I’m a very young female CEO. And he said ‘um… you don’t look like a CEO to me, you are not what I really picture when I picture a CEO’ and so I said well I’m very happy I get to change that!

summersaltturn  asked:

"Have anyone told you you have the most intimidating nostrils I've ever seen?"

“Yeah, I won an award, junior year,” Derek answers, frowning at his new IKEA (bought and built, all in a soft Henley sweater; Stiles knows, he supervised) book-shelf, like he hasn’t just finished a seven hundred page tome on Egyptian artefacts. A seven hundred page tome on Egyptian artefacts alone.

Derek Hale: epic nerd and assembler of easy-to-build IKEA products. Of course, Stiles thinks, cursing his stupid Professor and DIY kinks. Why not? The worst part is, he doesn’t even think those kinks are sexual. It’s just….a thing. That he has. A Derek thing. The Butterflies That Live In His Stomach were trying so desperately to move on with their lives, too. They’d shopped around. Hired a real-estate agent. They were ready, goddammit!  

Derek settles on a book - Stiles is pretty sure it also has the word ‘artefacts’ in the title - and sighs, all feigned nostalgia, and glances over his shoulder. “It was a golden nose, too. Across the bottom it said,” he pauses, grinning, “Stiles Stilinski needs to get a life.”

Stiles opens his mouth, clutches his chest, because rude much? Is it his fault Derek’s nostrils belong in some kind of anatomy museum? Is it his fault his Saturday nights are spent playing video games in his underwear, when his week days are spent chasing down monsters and researching things like how Scott and Erica managed to contract chicken pox when stabbing them does, like, nothing? (Except get Erica excited because she’s a beautiful, terrifying weirdo.) The moment he tries to tell Derek this, however, a copy of - is that Pride and Prejudice? - is thrown at his head. 

Stiles doesn’t know if he’s more offended when Derek rolls his eyes when it misses him, or the concerned look that crosses his face when the book sails past him and lands in an empty pizza box, like Derek is worried if it’s okay or not. 

And to think, Stiles was going to screw up his courage and finally invite Derek to see a movie this weekend. In an actual theatre. Where people go to be normal. Well, the laugh is on Derek because Stiles is going to buy the big popcorn and he’s going to enjoy it all on his own. 

Yeah, that’ll show him. 

~

“Has anyone ever told you your eyebrows could star in a disturbing kid’s movie about caterpillars?” 

Stiles is drunk. No, he’s wasted. Hammered. Loaded. Completely and utterly shit faced. Which is probably why instead of ending up on his ass on the floor, Derek just pinches the bridge of his nose, tips his head against the back of the couch and says, “what.” Not even a hint of inflection.

This dude, Stiles thinks, and then laughs because, ohmygod, Derek is this dude now. Not that dude or whoa, what are you doing crawling through my window, dude? but this dude. And that’s kind of beautifully heart warming, in its own way. 

Really, Stiles should write into Hallmark. It could be a trilogy. A Gay Trilogy ™. Bisexuals on ice. Except, without the ice because Stiles doesn’t know how to skate. Can Derek skate? Stiles totally bets Derek can skate.   

Speaking of Derek, he’s got this little crinkle on his forehead now, right between his eyebrows, and man, they really are very nice eyebrows. Animated but nice. A little dramatic but nice. Murderous but nice.

“What,” Derek says again, looking more confused than annoyed by the second. Stiles really wants to kiss him.

Instead, he stares. Stares and stares and stares.

Shit.

Slapping a hand over his mouth, he begins laughing uncontrollably and before he knows it, he’s clutching his sides and has his face pressed against Derek’s chest, because the hilarity is killing him. 

Because this is them now. Drinking peach-snaps at Derek’s loft, on a couch filled with throw pillows. Throw pillows. One is even soft and pink and frilly and another has a picture of the pack on it. Granted, no one is looking at the camera but Derek, Boyd and Kira and Derek is not so much looking at the camera as yelling at Stiles (holding the camera) for eating his secret stash of cookies, but it’s nice. It’s a nice picture. There is a plain black pillow too, of course. Somewhere. Stiles might be sitting on it, actually. He figures one can only expect so much when it comes to sour-wolves but Erica glued little cat ears on it last week and Derek said nothing. Fuck, he’d even smiled.

It says a lot about what a secret softie Derek is when it comes to vulnerable, drunk-ass people, because he doesn’t push Stiles away; just lets him laugh and laugh until he passes out, drooling on his chest. 

When Stiles wakes up, Derek’s sweater is pretty soaked through but he hasn’t moved an inch. He does, however, tell Stiles he snores like a deranged goose and that he owes him a pastry later.

He doesn’t even ask for a specific kind, Stiles chastises in his head, falling back to sleep. He’s in love with a pastry idiot. 

~

“Do you know when you smile, you brighten up the whole damn room?”

The question clearly catches Derek off guard because he falls head first…into a duck pond. 

Stiles’ first reaction is to jump in after him - he hates to admit it, but he gets a little nervous around water when Derek is with him; there have been several incidents where he’s unconsciously grabbed Derek’s hand in order to drag him away from pools and, one time, a very large puddle - but when Derek emerges, wearing his someone is about to die face, Stiles can’t be held accountable for the way he falls to the ground because, yup, that’s a tiny, outraged duckling perched on top of Derek’s head.   

“Oh my god,” he yells, rolling onto his back and kicking his legs in the air. He feels like a kid, grabbing his stomach, water practically pouring from his eyes. This was, quite possibly, the best day of his life.

Normally, Derek would be yelling threats - several, in fact, some in Spanish because he’s a show off - but he just stands there….in the middle of a fucking pond. The duckling is still sitting on his head, like he or she plans to set up home there and it’s so adorable Stiles thinks he actually coos out loud.

Still, Derek still doesn’t say anything. Not even when Stiles coos again, very, very deliberately. (And Scott said his middle name could never be Danger, pffft.) Stiles can’t actually guess what Derek is going to do but he doesn’t care. He looks a strange cross between wanting to murder someone - namely, Stiles - and a little kid who was told they couldn’t get a puppy only to get one on Christmas day anyway. 

Mostly, he just looks lost. And wet. Very, very wet. Somewhere out there, someone is playing It’s Raining Men and Stiles wants nothing more than to share this glorious moment with them. He’s just in the process of taking out his phone to at least snap a photo to send to the pack when - 

“Did you mean it?” Derek asks, and man, those water droplets just keep on running, don’t they. 

Stiles grins. “Did I mean for you to fall into a pond and adopt a new feathered friend? No but I think we can all agree-” 

Stiles.” 

Derek growls and it would be effective - at least in getting Stiles to help him out of the pond - if it wasn’t for the fact his ears were turning a little pink. A lot pink, actually and - 

Oh.

Sitting up, Stiles drags his butt over to the edge of the pond.

“Yeah,” he says. “I meant it. I mean, smiles can’t literally light up rooms, I know that, but when you smile it’s like…” He sighs and flaps his arms, suddenly nervous, hitting Derek in the process. The duckling practically glares at him and Stiles briefly wonders if he has competition here. 

Right. Better make this good then. He clears his throat. 

“It’s like, everything just makes sense for a little bit, you know? I look at you and it’s not that smiling is rare for you, at least not anymore, but it’s still pretty thrilling to see it and when you do I’m like, that’s some quality shit right there but then I get confused because it’s like, do I wanna punch it? Kiss it? Pet it? Who knows. Usually it depends on what you’re wearing.” 

Derek blinks and Stiles groans because, yeah, he just said that out loud. In real time. To Mr McGrumpy himself. Who is currently not reacting.

Great.

“Uh, I mean,” he attempts to correct himself but it’s too late. Derek is already slowly pulling him in and pressing his lips to his in what is the single most innocent, chaste kiss of Stiles’ life - because, you know, duckling and head movements - but somehow, it still manages to be perfect. 

“Nice,” Stiles whispers, after, waggling his eyebrows.

Derek snorts and kisses him again.

~

“Turn it off,” Derek whines, nuzzling further into Stiles’ neck. “This is why I leave my phone in the kitchen. Like we discussed.

Stiles tries to swat him, ends up kissing his temple. Sue him, he’s tired. “Says the person who can afford to leave their phone in the kitchen. We don’t all have supernatural hearing, asshole.”

Derek whines again. “You also have the worst taste in ringtones.”

Stiles gasps, suddenly sitting up. Well, he tries to. When your boyfriend is made of muscle and is half lying on top of you, it makes moving a lot more difficult. Not that Stiles is really complaining. Much. “I’ll have you know Bushes of Love is a Star Wars parody classic.”    

Derek rolls his eyes, Stiles can feel it, says, “just answer it, sweetums.” 

“Ugh,” Stiles grimaces, “I already told you I’m sorry for the pet-name thing. It was an accident!”

“Calling me your ‘slutty buddy’ in front of your dad was meant as a pet name?”

“It sounded better in my head!”  

Derek groans and wraps an “exasperated” arm around Stiles’ waist. Oh. So. Exasperated. Stiles grins. “Answer. Your. Phone.” 

Stiles finds his phone on the fifth try.

He has fifteen missed calls, all from Erica. Texts too. Every single one is a link to some article online, followed by a string of heart and eggplant emojis.   

Young Love and the Ugly Duckling’,” Stiles reads, clicking on the link. “Uhhh, Derek?” He prods him. 

What.” 

There’s a picture of us in the online Beacon Gazette,” looking into each other’s eyes, like a pair of love sick fools, Stiles wants to add because, wow, is he really that obvious when he looks at Derek? To be fair though, Derek isn’t much better and he is the one with an angry bird on his head.

He prods Derek again and again until he finally gives in, makes him look at the phone. 

“Huh,” he says, blinking at it. “Fred looks pretty pissed that I’m kissing you.” His face breaks out in a smug grin and Stiles rolls his eyes. Hard. 

“You are aware Fred is a duckling, right?” 

“Yes.” Derek grins harder, showing all his teeth, although his cheeks do colour slightly when he catches Stiles’ eye. 

Stiles sighs, totally not fond. “They couldn’t have come up with a better title, though?” he asks, brandishing his phone. “The Ugly Ducking, really?” 

Yeah,” Derek says, frowning. “I mean, I wouldn’t go as far as to call you ugly.” He laughs and Stiles smacks him across the chest with a loud, “hey!”

They both turn back to look at the picture. 

“We look so stupid,” Stiles whispers, shaking his head and biting his thumb. We fit, he thinks. We look like we fit. 

Leaning in, Derek smiles at him. “We do,” he agrees, burying his face back into the warmth of Stiles’ neck, muttering something about home and content and stupid Star Wars parodies.

Stiles snaps a selfie, captions it goals, and sends it to Erica. 

(100 years later I finally got to your prompt, mac-noa ! I wasn’t explicitly lovey dovey bc I didn’t want to be ooc and it’s only actually from Matt’s POV, but I hope it works for you!!!)

Matt and Dan walk in late, strung together by the hands, still flushed from kissing in the car pre-practice. They go sheepish when they see the unimpressed look on Wymack’s face. Renee smiles brightly at them and Allison gives them a brisk nod, but the monsters are in more disarray than usual. Bits and pieces of their group are missing, and it leaves Matt with the peculiar feeling of looking at a familiar photograph that suddenly has the faces scratched out.

Their ringleader is absent, for starters, couch conspicuously empty beside Kevin — who looks unmoved and stoic and nauseated as usual.

It’s not unusual for Andrew to do things just because it’s inconvenient for others, but it’s a little weird for Neil to skip out as well. It’s a lot weird that he’s late at the same time as Andrew when Exy hangs in the balance. 

Any association between them feels like something Matt has to fix, like he set something bad in motion by meeting Neil later than Andrew did in the fall. They’re probably off having one of their weird, close, angry looking conversations that always end in agreements Matt doesn’t understand.

Wymack waits thirty seconds past Matt and Dan’s arrival, and then he looks at the couch like it’s causing him pain, and starts delegating tasks for the day. He only asks once where the missing links are and there’s a lot of shrugging and staring straight ahead before he gives up.

They’re less rowdy than usual, and Matt thinks they’re all individually trying to solve Neil and Andrew’s absence in their heads. (As soon as they get up to move to the court, Allison starts whispering numbers for their betting pool until Dan bats her away.)

Matt squeezes Dan’s hand until she looks at him, and they have a brief conversation in smothered smiles.

They split up to change, and Matt straps into his gear feeling vaguely ill at ease. He keeps glancing at the door between straps and tugs of his uniform, and he notices Nicky doing the same thing. He smiles awkwardly when Matt catches him, and Matt feels a rare pulse of kinship for him. Both Andrew’s lot and the upperclassmen seem equally confused, so they have something in common for once.

The strange feeling follows Matt all the way to the court and through the first set of drills before Neil finally shows up, looking harried and flushed and all sorts of things Matt doesn’t usually associate with Neil.

He pushes into the court straight past Wymack’s blustering reprimand, and Matt catches the tail end of a flippant apology before Neil’s sprinting to centre court.

Matt stares at him. Neil waits, twisting his racquet in his hand, shoulders tense like he expects someone to toss him into the gameplay by force.

“What?” Neil asks, annoyed.

“You’re late,” Matt says stupidly.

“Twenty minutes late,” Kevin interrupts. “Almost like you’re trying to get worse.”

“He was with me,” Andrew says suddenly, breezing past them towards goal looking impossible to have spent twenty straight minutes with. Neil sort of jolts at the sound of his voice, and Matt eyes him narrowly.

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Cat Got Your Tongue Pt. 1 (M)

Word Count: 5,463

Pairing: Taehyung x Reader

Genre: catboy!tae, comedy, fluff, eventual smut

Summary: When your boyfriend cheats on you you’re left heartbroken and lost all hope in relationships. Santa says you’ll find love soon, but what do you do when you’re beloved cat turns into a beautiful grown man?

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3

Alright, HERE we go! Awhile ago I had an idea for a MP100/Voltron crossover, and after mentioning it to @x-i-l-verify​ and loooots of brainstorming later, we have…*gestures vaguely* this. These are more or less screenshot redraws just to kind of get across who is who. :) More info, reasonings and musings under the cut, because well…it got long…

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Just a little reminder for JayTim shippers:

● Jason and Tim aren’t related and even Tim stated that Bruce isn’t technically Jason’s dad anymore, as you can see here:

They weren’t raised together or stuff like that so there’s no reason why he should necessarily consider Jason as his brother (I’m not saying that It’s not ok or possible to see them as brothers, I’m just proving a point)

● They overcame their problems and even If the writers didn’t make a perfect job exploring this important aspect of their relationship, there are still some conversations to prove that:

(Oh Gosh I love this panel so much)

● Tim always cared about Jason:

(even in young justice)
● And he still cares (and considers him as his partner):

(”you’re not just the man under the Red Hood” is actually one of my favourite JayTim quotes ♥ Tim is so sweet)

● Jason eventually got psychologically better and started to care about Tim, to see him as a partner:

Just look at the pictures, the ship sails Itself:

● Aaaand It’s not pedophilia because: http://salt-sass-and-lyrium.tumblr.com/post/146304003444/superboyvapes-despite-you-wanting-to-make-me (Sorry I always quote you, I just love your post lol)

SO our ship is perfectly normal and you’re perfectly normal, bye.

I Think I Wanna Marry You...

Pairing: Dean X Reader.

Warnings: none.

S/P/N- Sister’s Preferred Name.

Summary: The reader, distraught over not having a date to her sister’s wedding, considers asking one of the Winchesters to pretend to accompany her; will Dean manage to save the day and play pretend for two weeks, or will his feelings get the best of him?

A/N: I’m a sucker for these “fake relationship” stories ;))



                                                   ~*~*~*~

Y/N pulls the phone from her ear, her frustration drawn out in the creases in her brow.


“Well?” Dean asks, sat opposite her at the library table. Before him lies an open lore book, on a page about Nordic gods and how to kill them, and his cup of coffee sits dangerously close to the irreplaceable relic. With Sam out doing some shopping, it’s just the two of them at home, trying to dig up some info that might be useful for future use.


Pinching her brow, the young girl shakes her head, waving a dismissive hand.  “Nothing. It’s fine.”


“Ya’ sure?”


“Yes.” She says, trying to sound convincing, but its of no use, because the elder Winchester has known her long enough to see past her facades.


Living together for nearly five years now, calling her his best-friend even feels like an understatement. They got to know each other a while back through a hunt involving a Tulpa in California; Y/N’s kill, but the boy’s happened to jump in on it and help out. Surprise surprise: a friendship sparked,  and ever since then, the relationship has flourished greatly.


To Dean, Y/N is family, just like Cas or Charlie or any of the other members of their little rehabilitation program they’ve picked up over the years. And with that, he knows—well enough—that despite her efforts to dismiss it, something is nudging at her mind.


“Obviously not. You seem like you’re about to explode. What is it?” He shuts the book and leans forward. Y/N still looks exasperated; still tries to act like she isn’t, and fails terribly. When she finally lifts her gaze, her expression is that of defeat.


“It’s my sister.” She says mournfully. “She’s calling me about her wedding coming up this month, and wants to know if I’ve been signed up to the family news letter that allows me to see all the updates on things like which floral arrangement we’re going to have. Surprise surprise—I’m not.”


“Damn.” Dean says plainly, still not seeing the reason behind her chagrin. Y/N rolls her eyes at him, trying to look annoyed, but the smile that she suppresses says otherwise.


A sardonic laugh escapes her. “Yeah, damn indeed.”  She rises from her seat, downing her coffee. Dean glances at his, then stretches it across to her. She finishes it in a single glug.


“So….what now?” He leans back in the chair. “You don’t know the floral arrangements? Doesn’t sound so bad.”


“I don’t know anything about this wedding, Dean. I don’t know where it’s gonna be, I don’t know who’s gonna be there, and—until I few seconds ago—I didn’t know I’m going to have to be in Boston next week. S/P/N mentioned it in the newsletter but….” Her voice drifts off and she folds her lips into a straight-line, shrugging.


“What’s in Boston?”


“The wedding, apparently. Who even gets married in Boston? Yuck.” Y/N scowls.


“Your sister, apparently.” He almost rolls his eyes. “Right, so…go to Boston. Show up for the rehearsal, see your family, have fun, and then get back here once everything’s done.”


Dean explains it like it’s so easy.  To him, it is.  Wedding prepping can’t take more than three weeks, can it….? He wouldn’t know. He’s never had the chance to even be part of a wedding, but he assumes that that’s an appropriate estimate.


But, from the way Y/N bites her lip and averts her gaze to the floor, a look teetering between guilt and embarrassment on her face, maybe he’s wrong.


“Yeaahhh….” She draws out, skeptically. “Uhm…about that. It’s not as easy as it sounds…”


“Uhm…?” He quirks an inquisitive brow.


“I…sorta…told them that I have a date to the wedding and,…” Y/N gestures in the air, but doesn’t finish her sentence.


Dean watches her with a knitted brow, waiting for an explanation that doesn’t come, until realizations strikes. His eyes widen and his mouth forms a little “o”.


“Ohhh.”


“Yeah…” Her cheeks are dusted with a feint blush and she looks away.


Dean doesn’t want to say it, but he can’t help but think how cute it is—really cute. The only thing that can compete, he thinks, is the way her eyes disappear into her cheeks when she smiles.


As embarrassing as it is, he has almost an entire list like that about Y/N; things he thinks are adorable about her, things like her laugh, to  he way she’s so awkward around big crowds,  or how she has an undeniable obsession with space. Little things. Cute things. It goes on and on, infinite and growing each day, the more and more he gets to know her…but he’ll never admit that.


Because he can’t.


Because Y/N is family, and she’s just a friend.


“Well…is it like a must to bring one along? You could always just tell your family that you guys…broke up? Maybe he cheated. Maybe the love fizzled out.” Dean offers, shrugging.


Y/N looks at him with an un-amused expression. “Great thing to mention right before a wedding.”


“God, I don’t know.” Getting up from his seat, he rolls his eyes. He shuts the book and a gust if dust billows from it, then fixes it under his arm.“You’ll figure it out. It’s you.”


“Dean…”


“Yeah?”


Y/N doesn’t meet his gaze. Instead, she looks to the floor, arms crossed over her chest.“Well,…there is something I thought about doing, but—God, I don’t know. What if, like—” She finally looks up.


Dean waits for the bombshell he knows she’s about to drop with a cautious, furrowed brow,


“—I asked Sam?”  She finishes, her expression hopeful; her eyebrows are pulled together and she’s squinting slightly. The elder Winchester feels the wind get knocked out of him at hearing this.


His eyes widen. “Sam?”


“Not to actually be my date!—just to fool my family for the two weeks. Do you think he’ll go along with it?”


“I don’t get it—why don’t you just—“


“I can’t tell them I don’t have a date, because I already told them that I do. Going back on my word now will just make me look ridiculous, Dean. Just…”Y/N sighs and shuts her eyes. Dean can read the desperation in her features. He bites his lip, contemplating Y/N’s offer.


Sam, going on a date with Y/N. The idea is so ludicrous, so unbelievable that it sounds completely silly, like imagining pigs fly or anything of the nature. He can’t bring himself to even picture the two of them together, but…


Still.


He then feels something stir in his gut at the thought, a warmth, a….jealousy? No. Hopefully not. It’s been ages since these feelings have managed to surface. Now is not the time for a return. The elder Winchester quickly suffocates the feeling and averts his attention back onto his friend.


 Before him she stands, imploring y/e/c eyes, a sweet smile stretched across her face and hands clasped together. She looks like a little girl, so young, so desperate. The elder Winchester doesn’t want to say no. Even if he did—with puppy eyes like those—how can you?


“So you have to have a date to this wedding?”


“I do.”


Dean thinks for a moment, raking his eyes over Y/N’s face that speaks mountains of uncertainty.


“You think he’ll say no, huh?”


“I’ll do it.”


“What?” Confusion floods the young girls face as she unclasps her hands. They fall to her side. Dean gulps trying to level his voice to a more confident tone.


“I’ll be your date to your sister’s wedding.” He repeats, hoping he sounds more sure than he feels. His hands go cold, throat tightening.


Y/N’s face speaks volumes of surprise. “You’d…do that?”


Another nod.


“You’ll really do this?” She asks eyes wide. “A whole two weeks in Boston? With my family?”


Dean shrugs. For some wild reason, his heart is pounding in his chest and his palms are sweating, and he tries to stave off all the anxiety that begins to bubble within his gut. “Yeah. Why not?”


“Dean,” Y/N’s voice is stern all of a sudden. You can tell that she’s just as taken aback by the proposal as he is, but is trying not to show it. “If you say yes to this, I don’t want you to half-ass it? This is a real big deal for me, you know?”


“Look, do you want a date to this wedding or not?”


Y/N  then bites her lip, contemplating. The elder Winchester’s eyes never leave her as he watches, waiting for response, until she finally agrees.


“Okay.” She says. A small smile then twitches on her lips, and Dean can see she’s trying to suppress.


“ Okay. Awesome. I’m gonna call S/P/N and see if there’s anything more I need to know yeah?” She asks. He nods.


“Sure.” Dean says. “It’s fine with me.”


“Sure?”


“Mhm.” He knows he is, because the smile that breaks through Y/N’s authoritative face then is something definitely worth the decision. Her cheeks indented with dimples, she smiles, shaking her head, and then walks out to make the call. On the way out, she makes sure she butts her shoulder into his, just for fun. Dean lets out a nervous chuckle.


She’s gone. The empty library is silent, and that’s when his heart starts to thud.


Over and over, like a vicious doldrums. The silence only accentuates the sound of his rapid heartbeat, as the elder Winchester allows in a deep breath. His eyes flutter shut, and the anxiety begins to melt away gradually.


This is gonna be a hell of a wedding.


                                                  ~*~*~*~

Part 2

I’ve been in my feelings for Dean for the past few weeks so bear with me pls. Also, I’m very excited for this story; more chapters to come, hopefully soon.

As always, likes, re blogs and general feedback is greatly appreciated!

y3daner  asked:

top ten times yuuri katsuki was charming without him noticing

Top Ten Times Yuuri Katsuki Was Charming Without Him Noticing:

10) At a competition a little girl got lost and started crying and he calmed her down and let her ride on his shoulders all the way back to the rink when he went to find her parents

9) A fan gave him some artwork to sign and said ‘sorry, it isn’t very good’ and despite being busy and in the middle of signing autographs he still stopped and took a good few minutes to sincerely compliment her work and style which made her blush so badly

8) At college he organised a study group for people who were struggling on his course to share his notes and ended up unofficially tutoring most of them for free and every single person who attended was a least partially in love with him by the end

7) In the skate club in Detroit one of the ice dancers hurt his leg in practice and so Yuuri offered to help the girl who was left without a partner practice her routine by standing in for him even though he was embarrassed that he didn’t really know the moves well. She was incredibly grateful, he learned a bit of ice dancing and every other skater was insanely jealous of her

6) Once a couple proposed in front of him after one of his competitions and he very sweetly congratulated them and offered to take a photo but ended up being in the photo instead at their insistence

5) He did a guest appearance at an ice skating class for children and was really, really good with the kids and encouraging them with their skating and being generally a wonderful teacher and all the young single parents were sighing over him and looking at each other like ‘he’s mine, I’m calling it first, back off’.

4) He donated a lot of money to a dog shelter in Detroit and there were loads of pictures and videos of him there playing with the puppies and everyone’s hearts collectively melted

3) Once a girl at the skating club didn’t have anyone to go to a fancy dance with her and she was embarrassed to go alone. Since Yuuri knew he was a decent dancer he offered to go with her as friends so that she could still go and it was a really sweet and considerate gesture and they spent the evening having fun and owning everyone else in the room with how well they danced. That girl was the one mentioned in chapter 14 who later invited Yuuri and Phichit to her wedding. She met her future wife at that dance, which she wouldn’t have gone to without Yuuri offering to help her out

2) That time he took the triplets backstage in chapter 12 and everyone was like ‘awwww’

1) Every little thing he did that made Viktor fall even more in love with him over the years which was a lot and happened often

SO LETS TALK “WHOS THE TRAITOR”

I’ll just start this off by axing off a HUGE group of characters right off the bat: the traitor is not a teacher, has to be from class A and cannot be from any other class, and is not a “minor” member of class A, such as Mineta or Sero. I am assuming that those characters who have been somewhat involved in the main plotline of the story are those that have the potential to be the traitor. After cutting it down from that, I’ll just run through specific instances.

Of course it’s not Midoriya, or the story would make no sense; same with Bakugou due to having been kidnapped. I’m cutting out Iida, Todoroki, and Momo for their involvement in helping to rescue Bakugou in the AfO arc, and also because they all have a family history in heroics.  Froppy I’m cutting out more because of the way the story is written makes her a really awkward fit as traitor. Denki is one of the theories I’ve seen floating around, but I think that from the most recent arc, there’s a little too much leaning away from Denki having the capacity for being a traitor.

Kirishima, although I definitely wouldn’t be too surprised if it did turn out to be him, still doesn’t fit the bill for me. My initial reason was that Kirishima obviously wants to save Bakugou from the villains during that particular arc - he initiates the entire thing. While even despite on that, I was open to the idea of Kirishima being the traitor, but thinking on it there are two other reasons I can’t sink my teeth in. The first is that Kirishima is just… so honest?? and also Bakugou’s kinda-probably best friend? If the villains really wanted Bakugou to join the villain side, Kirishima probably would have known, and also he could have easily spoken to Bakugou about STUFF and weeded out whether or not Bakugou was really villain material. He also strikes me as honest enough to bide his time with Bakugou and then when the time came, literally just saying ‘hey, Bakugou join me on the villains’ side.’

My second reason is crucial: Kirishima is just not AS close to Midoriya as pretty much every other main character. While I’m sure Midoriya would be upset if Kirishima was the traitor, it wouldn’t have the same effect as a lot of the other main characters in the series. The shock factor for Midoriya, appropriately, would be more like “oh no, how could you?”  and I don’t think that’s what Horikoshi wants. Good traitor reveals are big, painful, and close to the heart. They’re someone who the main character trusts, and a lot of the time, a character who’s been there from the start.

So who is left?

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

Ok, BUT HOW ABOUT the rfa (+ v & saeran of you want) who get turned into toddlers and mc has to take care of them. totally love your blog and whenever I see you on my dash my whole day gets brighter~

Definitely had to think about this one 
And instead of a “They woke up as children one day” I decided to just make it so like, MC runs a Daycare and they’re all kids there (because otherwise I’d feel inclined to make it more focused on MC freaking out because..well who wouldn’t? Loool) Also I may have blurred the lines of toddler and kid? Yoosung could be a toddler but the others are probably like…5? Idk children psychology rip.

Hope you enjoy~

MC Dealing with toddler RFA+V+Saeran

Yoosung

  • He goes from 0 to 100 real quick
  • One second he’s fine, playing with blocks, just chilling
  • Then he wants your phone
  • Lil dude wants to play angry birds
  • You do not give him the phone and he goes ape shit 
  • Screaming at the top of his lungs
  • You try to pick him up and calm him down but he just starts flailing his arms so you leave him on the ground
  • He screams until he’s so breathless he’s on the verge of passing out
  • Jesus christ kid
  • He seems to forget what he was crying about, looks at you with big ole eyes, and smiles.
  • He’s back to being a little ball of sunshine
  • You just kinda… “ok”
  • And watch him play for the rest of the day,

Jaehee

  • She is so well behaved
  • She is your number one helper, always helping clean up messes.
  • She colors inside the lines. Always. And gets visibly frustrated when others do not. Especially Seven.
  • She likes playing pretend. You have a fake little kitchen in the play area and she’s constantly acting as a chef or waitress. Or even Barista what are the odds ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) 
  • Sometimes she refuses to nap and gets a little grouchy, but it’s never unmanageable. 
  • She doesn’t let the boys boss her around 
  • Though she obviously has a soft spot for Zen because she always plays with him
  • They’re lowkey best friends

Zen

  • What a little charmer
  • He’s so calm 
  • Though he is a little weird
  • He always brings his toys in front of a mirror and plays with them there
  • But hey we all have our quirks
  • He also looooves for music to be playing, constantly reaching towards the radio to get your attention
  • You always smile and pop in some music
  • Sometimes he can get a little attached to you, wanting to next to you during story time only to get really mad when Jumin is already there.
  • The two of them can not play together. You don’t know why. They just…do not mesh. 
  • The girls in the class always play with his hair, as good as toddlers can anyways. Usually they just stick a bunch of playground weeds in it for a makeshift flower crown

Jumin

  • You were really worried about him at first
  • He refused to play with any of the other children
  • He’d just clam up around them and watch
  • One day you sat down next to him as he was watching the kids, a bunch of blocks in your hand. 
  • You started stacking them on top of each other, and eventually you just handed him a few.
  • He joined in on the stacking.
  • After that he was stuck to your side like glue. 
  • Other kids would try to play with him and he’d just run over to you and hide behind your legs
  • You would try to get him to play with others, but at most he would sit at a table with V and color.
  • He also colors inside the lines. 
  • ‘It’s a start’ you think as you smile at the two of them.

Seven

  • This kid
  • It’s because of him you’re always on your toes. 
  • It’s nap time? His sleeping mat is empty
  • ‘Where are you goddammit?’
  • Cue the hunt
  • It’s not much of a hunt. He’s always in the snack room, trying to get chips.
  • When you catch him and put him in time out he just stares at you with big ole ‘I’m sorry’ eyes and a little smile
  • You always just sigh and hide your smile
  • When he isn’t being a sneak he’s creating really cool things
  • Given it’s a pain when you find toys tied together with shoe laces or sticky with contraband Elmers glue
  • You have to admire his creativity
  • And he has a sweet side, not that you’d ever see it.
  • Sometimes, out of the corner of your eye, you catch him trying to show his brother things
  • Trying to encourage him to play
  • Giving him the toys he’s collected
  • He’s a sweet kid
  • Until he tries waking Yoosung up at naptime then he’s your nightmare

Saeran

  • He doesn’t go out of his way to play with others
  • Usually he just waits for someone to approach him and whatevers hes doing, and he’ll let them join in.
  • He’s pretty meek despite his mean stare.
  • Other kids will take his stuff and he won’t say anything, just brood until you or Saeyoung find out whats wrong. 
  • He’s a picky eater, usually just rolling grapes around his plate or poking stuff with his spoon
  • At first he would never nap, just lay there and stare at things
  • Until you started rubbing his back and singing soft lullabies. Now he naps. 
  • He unsettles some of the other teachers, just because sometimes he’ll spend his time just staring at them, but you assure them it’s nothing.
  • He likes reading a lot.
  • Or looking at the pictures in the books at least.

V/Jihyun Kim

  • He’s very well behaved
  • Like, weirdly behaved.
  • Usually he plays with Jumin, but when Juju decides he wants to be alone, Jihyun has no problem playing with the other kids
  • He just jumps into whatever game they’re playing and they all get along great
  • If Jaehee hadn’t been your number one helper, it’d be Jihyun.
  • He helps set up snack time and the mats for nap time
  • He’s also one of the chattiest kids, always asking questions about things and giving his thoughts
  • He’s really insightful for a young kid
  • One thing you worry about:
  • He can be so giving, you’re worried someone will take advantage of that
  • One time he was playing with one of his favorite toys, and a kid asked for it. You could see it on Jihyun’s face that he didn’t want to give the toy up but… he did. 
  • Maybe you were overthinking it
My Princess

My Princess (m)

Word count: 3.8k

Genre: smut

I probably went a little too far with this, oh well. Although, this was probably one of my favorites i’ve written so far. Anyway, his was a request from an anon, hope you enjoy :)


Your boyfriend of one year, Jimin, decided for your anniversary he was going to take you to your favorite place, Disneyland. You two loved watching Disney movies together. You especially loved Beauty and the Beast and pretty much any princess movie. Jimin decide to even called you his princess. For your anniversary he made sure to get some time off so you two could spend a long weekend together.

Keep reading

Faithfully

Word Count: 2675

Pairing: RockStar!Dean x Reader

Warnings: None

A/N: Written for @deansdirtylittlesecretsblog RomCom fluff challenge. My prompt was “Don’t let anyone ever make you feel like you don’t deserve what you want.” from 10 Things I Hate About You. Also written for @like-a-bag-of-potatoes Birthday/Follower Celebration Challenge. My song was Faithfully by Journey. 

Special thanks to @mamapeterson for throwing out an idea that I then twisted around and used for this piece of hot garbage. 

Feedback and constructive criticism always appreciated 


“You look beautiful, baby.” Your father, Bobby, looked you over, tears glistening in his eyes. “Matt isn’t gonna know what hit him when you walk down that aisle.”

“Thank you, Daddy.” You smiled, though you were sure it didn’t quite reach your eyes.

“He’s right, you know.” Your stepmother, Ellen, moved forward and cupped your cheek. “You’re gorgeous, sweetheart.”

“Alright, that’s enough!” Charlie, your best friend and Maid of Honor started to usher everyone out, sensing you were starting to become overwhelmed by the attention. “Dad, be ready to walk her down the aisle, ok? We’ll tell you when she’s ready. Everyone who isn’t a bridesmaid, out, out, out!” She started to shove everyone out and you silently giggled to yourself at her forcefulness. She didn’t look intimidating at all, but she certainly was not someone you wanted to cross.

“Spill.” Charlie practically ordered. “You’re getting married and you look like…well I don’t know what you look like but it isn’t happy.” You casted your eyes to the floor then back up, glancing around at your bridesmaids, Jo, your stepsister, and then your friends, Jody and Donna, before making your way back to Charlie.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

Kinda wanna see an instance of where Chat Noir gets really popular and has like fan girls and what not and Ladybug just get jelly. Like "No the cat is mine- thank you!"

“Looks like the Kitty Chats are back,” Vixen commented, nodding to a group of bouncing girls all sporting cat ears on the other side of the police tape.

Ladybug rolled her eyes. “They’re obnoxious.”

“Sounds like someone’s jealous,” Queen Bee sang. “I don’t know why. All you’d have to do is whistle and Chat would be on his knees in front of you.” She smiled wickedly. “Do that. I really want to see it.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Ladybug huffed. “We’re not like that.”

“Sure, we know that.” Vixen rolled her eyes.

Chat Noir jumped over the police tape and was swarmed. He smiled and laughed, taking pictures and signing autographs. 

“It’s unprofessional is what it is,” Ladybug said stiffly.

“Mmhmm.”

“And dangerous. What if an akuma decided to take all the stupid bimbos hostage so Chat would feel obligated to save them?”

“Bimbos, huh? Getting a little harsh, aren’t we, Bug? I’m sure they’re perfectly nice young women,” Vixen smirked.

Queen Bee tilted her head and pursed her lips. “I don’t know. They look about seventy-seven percent bimbo.”

“Don’t encourage her.”

“I just don’t like it,” Ladybug grumbled.

“Then go tell him.”

“What?”

Vixen sighed. “If it bothers you so much, talk to Chat. He would want to know how you’re feeling.”

“Well…”

One of the Kitty Chats grabbed Chat Noir’s face and planted a kiss on his lips.

“Oh, hell no,” Ladybug ground out, slinging out her yoyo. She swung down and landed beside Chat Noir as he gently pushed the girl away.

“Hi, my Lady!” Chat Noir greeted a little too brightly. 

“Hi sweetheart,” she crooned, wrapping an arm around his waist.

“Sweet…sweetheart?” he asked, eyes wide.

“Sorry to disappoint, ladies, but I’m going to need to borrow my Chat,” Ladybug said with a sickeningly sweet smile. She caught the eyes of the girl who had kissed Chat Noir and held them. “Can’t even let him out of my sight. Never know what nasty little thing will get him.” She turned her attention to her flabbergasted partner. “Ready to go?”

“Um, yes?”

She tightened her hold on his waist and slung out her yoyo, carrying them back to their teammates.

“So…”

“It’s Vixen’s fault,” Ladybug interrupted.

Chat Noir tightened his grip on her. “Then thank you, Vixen,” he grinned.


Prompt List :)

Buy Me a Coffee? <3

Not An Athlete (3/?) *Lance Tucker x Reader*

Originally posted by talkinboutmyimagination

Summary: You’re forced by your Athlete parents into taking a summer job, which becomes your full-time job as you balance university. Only the asshole you work for and help realises how much you do for him. He don’t like that, he don’t like you. Welcome to the world of Athletes, Lance Tucker is your tour guide. (I suck at summaries.)

Warnings: Explicit content, later on. Swearing, body shaming/ degrading language from Tucker. Asshole Tucker (I’m talking straight up rude.)

 <Previous - Next>


Your mum once gave you advice, it wasn’t exactly handy advice at the time and you didn’t really understand why she gave it to you in the first place but you still took it in, still often think about it because it’s some good advice. She once told you that if you ever have an argument with your partner, you should go for a long drive, no destination and no one else just you. It’s meant to help clear your mind, let you drive your feelings out and really think about what was said and what you want to say. You’ve done that, many times, over mostly friends but it worked.

You can’t say it’s working well for Tucker. The closer you got to Las Vegas the angrier you become, the more irrational your thoughts got, you were white-knuckling the steering wheel as you glared at the welcome sign to Las Vegas. You have no idea, how in the hell, Lance got your number and what possessed him to phone you; doesn’t he have friends? A girlfriend? One of his booty-calls that could’ve picked him up?

You pulled up to Caesar Palace, it was a little much. The fountain, the valet that gave a judgemental look at your old Volvo. The outside, although grand, couldn’t compete with the interior design of the palace. The marble floors, the gold lining and decor, and the columns: it was breathtaking. You walked to the reception, oil paintings behind the gold-mirrored desk, everything just screamed pretentious but yet, it was impressive. You pulled the denim jacket you wore closer to your body, the woman grinning from ear-to-ear at you.

“Hello, welcome to Caesars Palace, what can I do for you this morning?” Her name tag stating that her name is Sara.

“Hey, I’m here to pick up a guest, I don’t know what room he is in or if he’s under his name,” she nodded as you looked utterly dumbfounded, “the name is Lance Tucker and he requested me for pick-up, for some reason.” She nodded as she typed onto a keyboard, looking at a screen.

She picked up a phone just beside her and dialled a number, grinning at you as she waited for whoever to pick up the phone, it’s a few short, awkward, seconds of silence. “Hello, Mr Tucker. This is reception calling, a guest is here for you, a young female.” You tap the counter absent-mindedly. “Should I send her up?” is the next question, “she said you were expecting her, okay, I’ll be sure to do so.” Sara puts the phone down, “he’s in one of our penthouse suites, in the Palace Tower, I’ll have someone escort you.”

You followed a young male, a bell-hop, through the building. You had only ever seen pictures of Caesars Palace, it was bigger than you expected, at every turn, there was something to look at and admire. Pools and spas, plus showrooms and obviously, casinos; no wonder Lance came all the way here. You were shown right to the door, where he swiped a keycard and let you in, telling you to enjoy your stay.

The penthouse, well, it was bigger than your entire apartment. It had a balcony the size of your kitchen, bigger from where you were standing. Black marble floors, the furniture looked brand new, and it had its own kitchen; not that you expected Lance to be cooking whilst here since they have Gordon Ramsay’s Bar & Grill. You could see it went off in three different directions; you looked down one hallway, seeing a door slightly ajar, hoping that Lance was somewhat decent you walked down towards it. 

You pushed the door open, it was dark with the shutters down and a body was laid in bed, you assumed it was Tucker. 

“Tucker, wake up!” You yelled and heard him grumble his reply, a muffled ‘fuck you’ being thrown in. “No, get the fuck up, I didn’t drive all the way here for you to treat me like shit. Get up now!” You flicked the light switch on, you could just see his brown, messy hair from under the plush duvets before you walked back out of the room calling his name again.

You sat on the barstool when Lance finally emerges, eyes still half shut and squinting against the bright lights, his hair a mess and only grey sweat pants that were hanging low on his hips; how the hell was they staying up was a good question. His eyebrows were furrowed as he looked at you, he blinked rapidly as he sat on the cream sofa.

“Why the fuck are you here?” He asked, voice still hoarse from just waking up and scratchy from whatever drinks he consumed last night when he texted you.

You sighed with annoyance. “Of course, drunk texts, I shouldn’t have bothered. You text me asking for me to come get you, you threatened my job.” He was still frowning before he sighed, head falling into his hands as his elbows rested on his knees. “Why did you call me? Don’t you have friends to come get you? Aren’t they here with you?” You glanced around, looking back at the hunched over Lance.

“You’d be the only one that would actually show up, you need your job,” he muttered, “it was an easy bribe.” He lifted his head, hands covering his mouth as he stared right at the blank flat screen TV. “I drank a lot last night.” He sighed to mostly himself.

You crossed your arms, “I’ll bite the bait,” he looked at you with an unreadable expression. “Why did you need me to come pick you up, you’re in Las Vegas, isn’t this your ideal hunting ground?” His lips curved up at that comment but set back into a frown; he slouched against the back of the sofa, arms crossing over his chest.

“…I came here for an event, it’s kind of a big deal but…” he trailed off, a look you haven’t ever seen on Lance before, well, he never really showed anything but a smirky confident idiot. This was different, by far, it was shyness and embarrassment. “My parents are here, celebrating my father, forty-six years of being in the sports industry.” An edge of bitterness harshened his words, he wasn’t looking at you but you could tell he felt vulnerable; exposing a side of him like this.

“Isn’t this meant to be a fun occasion? A party?” He rolled his steely blue eyes at you, chuckling lightly at that.

He shakes his head, “You haven’t met my parents. You hate me, you would loathe them, I can’t stand the bastard and my mum isn’t any better. I guess, last night it got to me.” It’s silent, “You should probably go. Before they get back, don’t speak of this, to anyone. Got it?” 

Before you can answer that the penthouse’s front door opens. A couple walks through, talking amongst themselves, the older male looks a little like Lance but the woman looked a little young to be his mother, maybe his sister? 

The male had slicked back, dark hair, and piercing, hooded eyes with a grey suit. He was old, obviously but he was tall and very lean, clearly he still kept in shape despite his age. The woman beside him was small, tanned and young, you could say, younger than you! She was skinny, really skinny but had great… assets. You weren’t one to judge but you felt insecure in front of this girl. 

Lance’s P.O.V

“Harry, you’re up.” Lance froze on the spot at the sound of his father’s voice, he glanced to you for a moment before turning swiftly around and meeting his father’s piercing gaze. “I’ve come to collect you for lunch, your mother has arrived and insisted we all gather,” he didn’t sound to keen on the idea, not that Lance was but, at least he could stand to be around his mother.

It takes a few seconds for Lance to remember how to speak, “Uhh yeah, it must’ve slipped my mind,” he runs a hand through his hair messily before turning back to you. “I was just saying goodbye to my…friend, then I’ll get dressed.” He nods for you to stand up, beckoning you quickly to the door before you could be roped into his messed up life.

“And here I thought you’ve changed,” Lance’s father began and made you stop in your tracks, Lance sighs heavily. “Why can’t you find a nice girl, instead of these groupies, life isn’t about alcohol and fucking, Harry.”

“Spare me the lecture, you’re the one that cheated, not mum.” Lance snapped back, “she isn’t a groupie either, she’s… working for me,” he doesn’t have to look at you to know how uncomfortable you are, he can feel it.

Harry Senior, shakes his head. “Hookers don’t work for you, Harry.” Lance hears you scoff at the mention of the word hooker, he wants to laugh, he’s been with and seen hookers; you were definitely not one of those.

“She’s not a hooker, babe.” Sabrina, his new wife smiles, “that’s his girlfriend, obviously. He didn’t want you to know, meeting the parents is always scary, look at how protective he got over her.” Lance watched as his dad’s posture changed, straightening his back as he glanced you over, analysing you and Lance didn’t like that.

“That’s quite the accusation, he hasn’t had a girlfriend in years, is she your girlfriend?” The stare he received after the question had Lance stammering for an answer, apparently, the word ‘no’ no longer existed.

“Yes, she is.” Lance found himself saying in a moment of weakness, “I…-” he’s cut off by his dad, who walks around him and to you, extending a hand your way.

“Harry Tucker, the third,” you look at Lance over his father’s shoulders with wide eyes, raised eyebrows and a look of shock. “This is my wife, Sabrina.”

Lance watches as you shake his dad’s hand in silence for a few seconds, “Uh-I’m Y/N Y/L/N.” His dad stares at Lance, as you hug Sabrina, his eyes are piercing through him almost. He recognised that look, the same look he received when he won that silver once; disappointment and disgust. You weren’t good enough for his son or maybe, that’s just how his dad looks at him, neither answer would surprise him. 

“You should accompany us to lunch,” Lance already begins to excuse you from that awkwardness, “nonsense, I insist. She must meet your mother, get dressed, we’re leaving in twenty minutes.” Harry nods before opening the door and leaving with Sabrina behind him.

It’s silent as Lance watches the door close, not really believing what had happened just now, it only becomes reality when you start yelling at him. He didn’t really have any excuse other than his dad scared the shit out of him, he could never form a sentence around him and he was always intimidated, even as a child; the way his dad would glare if he messed up, you’d think he would have become the perfect son.

“I don’t know what just happened,” Lance admitted quickly, “he’s just really intimidating sometimes, I couldn’t think and… you should’ve left when I told you to.”

Oh, so it’s my fault.” You asked, E/C eyes full of rage, “I didn’t come here to play your girlfriend, Lance, or should I say… Harry!” You poked his chest firmly, he slapped your hand away with a slight glare. “Fuck, Lance, I can’t stay here. I can’t have lunch and meet your parents, this is insane. You have, to tell the truth,” you panic to him.

Lance exhales slowly, biting his lip as he thinks everything over. “Okay, listen, I can’t tell my dad I lied. He’ll give me the lecture, it’s one weekend, one lunch. I’ll… pay you!”

“I’m not pretending to be your girlfriend, Lance Tucker.” He rolls his eyes, “you know how stupid this sounds? One day ago you couldn’t stand me, now I’m here being asked to be your fake girlfriend and get paid…this is ridiculous,” Lance crosses his arms and raises an eyebrow. “How much?”

“How much do you want?”

Lance watches as you debate a little with yourself. “I’ve got to buy new books, at least, four hundred dollars worth.” Lance frowns, “I don’t want to ask for too much and have you laugh at me for it.”

“I’ll round it up to five hundred, think of it has compensation. You don’t mention this to anyone, got it? Last I need is you running your mouth,” you shrug and Lance finally looks at you for real. You’re in a denim jacket plus blue skinny jeans, your hair up and hardly any make-up, you’re pretty but not dressed correctly. “You got clothes with you? Like a dress?” You shake your head and he sighs.

“What’s wrong with my outfit?” You place a hand on your hip jutting it out with a sour expression; your attitude was going to be a problem too but he couldn’t fix that. 

“Everything, you can’t have lunch with my mother and be dressed like that,” he walks off and towards his room. “I’ll have the hotel send something up, what’s your size?” He turns and looks at you, “nevermind, you’re like a ten. Do something with your hair,” he slips back into his room, hearing you follow behind him.

**

Lance paces in front of the walk-in wardrobe doors, hearing you grumble to yourself about the dress and him, mostly him. He hated that you were roped into this, his life, it was embarrassing and humiliating. He tried, so hard, to remove himself from his home life because of his father. The man was cold, cruel and manipulative, everything that Lance tried to not be but ended up being like his mother; competitive, in every sense of the word and egotistical.

Growing up with Harrison Tucker as a father was torture. Lance had to be like him, he had to be a great athlete, the best. Even that isn’t good enough; he wins one silver amongst his many golds and instantly he’s a failure.

“So, you’re name is Harry?” He hears your voice through the doors.

“Yeah, after my dad and his dad, and his dad before him.” Lance rolls his eyes, crossing his arms, “It’s like some stupid tradition, my middle name is Lancelot, my mother liked it and I decided since there’s already one Harry Tucker on the scene.” He explained leaning against the wall as he waited for you.

It’s a few silent seconds. “And the woman beside your dad… guessing, not your sister.”

He laughed loudly. “No, definitely not. My parents divorced when I was sixteen, he was messing around with a young gymnast, of age, not that it mattered. Anyway, Sabrina is his third or fourth wife. My mum always turns up to his awards because she thinks it’s important for us to still be a family, she’s twisted that way,” He shrugs to himself, “she was always better at business relationships than actual relationships; I rarely see her outside her office,” he trails off and stares at the wall ahead.

“That sounds rough,” he hears the doors slide open, “explains a lot about you, to be honest.” He rolls his eyes and glances at you, raising his eyebrows. “What’d ya think? Will this fool them now?”

Shamelessly he let his eyes trail over your body, he may still hate you, but he wasn’t one to pass up the opportunity of appreciating a female’s body. The bodycon dress was a royal blue, off the shoulder and mid-length, it fit you perfectly, a little too perfectly. When he, finally, let his eyes drift back to yours, you were glaring a little, only making his cocky grin grow.

“I’m setting rules,” he raised an eyebrow at that, “No getting too handsy; an arm around the waist is my limit, Tucker. I am not kissing you, ever, even being your fake girlfriend. Are we clear?” You asked sternly, he shrugged a shoulder in reply, “No, are we clear? I can leave, right now and not help you. I guess, your father already told your mother that you have a girlfriend, so are we clear?”

“Fucking Christ, we’re good. I don’t want to kiss you anyway, even faking it.” He watched as you rolled your E/C eyes at him, brushing a piece of Y/H/C hair behind your ear. “Let’s go, they’re waiting for us.”

He leads you out of the door and to the elevators, a nervous fluttering happening in his stomach. He always got like this when having to be around his parents, it was heightened a lot more with you next to him, having anyone meet his parents was sickening. He always avoided it, never told them when he had girlfriends because they’d run for the hills; if it wasn’t because of them getting fed up his arrogant ways, his parents would chase them off, for sure.  

“I’m nervous,” you admit to him and he scoffed, hiding his own behind the facade he built himself. “I’ve never had to meet someone’s parents before.” He frowned and looked down at you, you didn’t look at him, eyes remaining on the elevator doors. “It’s only for lunch, I’m actually a good actor, I got an A for theatre in school.” You mainly told yourself.

“Why are you doing this?” He asked abruptly, you finally looked up at him but the doors open before you can answer, people waiting for you to walk out. He sighs gently and escorts you through the crowd and towards the outside pool, where his parents are meeting for lunch.

The sun shines on the beautiful pool, people splashing and swimming around, more sunbathing on the loungers. His eyes land on a table by the bar, his father and mother sat, not talking as Sabrina yaps away about something uninteresting. His eyes connect with his mother’s, who smiles brightly and she hadn’t changed a day. She had aged, grey hairs that were mostly caused by the stress, blue eyes like his and an infectious smile- like yours- he shook that thought away.

“Lancelot,” she called and waved, standing up and walking to him. He met her with a hug, you trailing behind. “Look how you’ve grown,” she grinned looking at her son, “you look so handsome, of course, my genetics.” He chuckled at that, “I’m angry with you, by the way,” she tells him and he frowns. “I had to hear from your father that you’ve got a girlfriend! Hello, dear, I’m Erin.” He rolls his eyes as his mother pulls you in for a hug.

“Harry wasn’t supposed to meet her, she came as a last minute thing for me,” Lance explained, only being ignored as his mother fusses over you with a happy smile, taking your hand and leading you to the table. He trailed behind helping both, you and his mother, into chairs before sitting beside you.

It was awkward as his mother ordered more drinks, a sly comment of her drinking habits from his father, this was going to be the worst experience of his life. 

“So, how did you two meet? I want details.” His mother grins and Lance chokes a little on his drink, shit, he hadn’t thought about the questions she would ask.

(I had to cut this because it became too long, that’s why it ended kinda choppy. Anyway, I got this idea from my friend Amber, my original idea has altered, meaning instead of ten chapters it’s gonna be around twenty; thank her for that lol. Let me know what you think, so far. - Rosalee) 


Everything Tagging list(let me know if you wanna be added or taken off- this tagging list means you’ll be told when I post anything; Marvel, The Walking Dead & Riverdale(I don’t do seperate ones for those)): @girl-next-door-writes @22ifyoukeepmenextoyou @t3-daria-todo @sebby-staan @skylark50 @thegoddamnfeels @gillibean9 @sergeantjamesbarnes107th @full-of-sins-not-tragedies @fxcknbarnes @broncos5soslover @say-my-name-assbut @fangirlwithasweettooth @buckyismybbz @charlotteblanden @wholockiand@momscapris @mashroom-burrito @firewolfkelly @winterboobaer

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My SUPER strict father just saw my background,which is a very old picture of Phil Lester. His eyes just went full on rage mode and he immediately asked who that is and if that is my boyfriend(cause Phil looked so freaking young in that picture,like about 16 or 17) , but in the angriest voice ever. So because he doesn’t appreciate youtubers and their work, I just said “No no, he’s a british entertainer!”
So I showed him a few videos, which I of course didn’t mention that these were YouTube videos (and he did believe me,cause, Dad and internet..)and… long story short: He likes Phil and since I teached him the term and correct use of “smol bean” and “Cinnamon roll” he JUST SAID “That Phillip boy is indeed a small cinnamon roll bean.” 1.YES,that is how my dad talks. 2.HOW FREAKING COOL IS THAT???

@amazingphil feel honoured yet?