he's suppose to be a hipster

book ends — p.p. au

summary : there’s a little bookstore on the corner of a street in manhattan, and when peter parker gets a job there he’s not really expecting to fall head over heels for the cashier in charge — you. just your typical bookstore au, where peter isn’t spider-man.

word count : 3.4k

author’s note : i love this so much i’m nUTTING this is literally my pride and joy i’m gonna weep okay i know it’s long but literally my favorite thing ever okay i love you

gif credit : @hllands (sorry for not including it before, was not aware you made it and i did not mean to discredit you work in any way)

   A piece of white copy paper, written on in bold red ink and stuck to the front of the antiquated bookshop’s front door, is gleaming in the streams of sunlight that beat down upon it as Peter Parker makes his way down the busy street. He’s not usually one to spend much time in the city itself, only because of the unruly train schedule and the way that May worries herself if Peter isn’t home at precisely the time he said he would be. With the trains, you can never be positive that you’ll be getting to where you need to be in the estimated amount of time it says on the google, so he tries to never linger in Manhattan for longer than he has to. 

   However, it’s a Saturday, and he’s trying to figure out who will hire him despite his somewhat young age of only fifteen and his minimal work experience- which is to say, no work experience. He’s not even sure how jobs work, to be quite honest, but he needs to start pulling his weight around the house even if May insists that she’s doing just fine on her own. He sees her stress about the bills nearly every week, sitting at the kitchen table with her fingers pinching the bridge of her nose and her glasses slipping down her face as she punches numbers into a calculator with the other hand. He sees the little exasperated sighs and the worry lines that she’s far too young to have and so Peter decides that he’s going to get a proper part time job in order to help her out. 

   It’s the least he can do; she’s taken him into her little apartment and treated him the way a mother would a son. She pretty much was his mother. And if he had to get a job to repay her for everything she does for him, he would do so without complaints. Which led him here, standing in front of the little bookshop on the corner that seemed to be empty save for someone sitting atop the counter beside the register, from what he could see as he peers into the dusty, sun streaked window. 

   The aforementioned piece of paper that’s been strategically placed smack in the middle of the front door- you can’t miss it if you’re trying to enter the shop- has the words NOW HIRING: INQUIRE WITHIN scrawled on it in letters to bold to be ignored. Peter pretty much has to walk in, the quaint little store is calling to him and he turned down this particular street for a reason. He believes in the whole everything happens for a reason type of ideal, the coincidences and the little things in life that were such blatant, blaring signs that Peter would be a complete moron not to listen to them. So, he sweeps his gaze over the sign one final time and then pushes the door open, the tiny bell atop the door jingling in a quiet but melodious way as he enters. He shuts the door softly behind him, then takes a long look across the stores. 

    There are books stacked in irregular ways next to shelves and on windowsills and next to the front door. The ones placed among the main window like an enticing display are anachronistic, perfectly classic; weathered and yellowed from their ripe old age and collecting dust like there’s no tomorrow. Peter supposes that might be part of the charm of the store; to make everything look old so that the hipsters flock to it, bees to honey or birds to breadcrumbs. But really, it’s the emptiest store he’s ever been in aside from his nearest CVS Pharmacy at eleven o’clock at night to pick up gummy bears for May when she was craving them that one time last week. He walks further into the store and sweeps his hand along the row of the new releases, the ones he figures people would be the most interested in.  

   You tilt your head to the left curiously, watching the boy with the nicely side swept hair and the gray sweater examine shelf after shelf, and he’s all careful hands and scrutinizing eyes and he’s pulling his bottom lip between his teeth as he reads the back of a novel from the newer shelves and runs his fingers along the smooth spine of it and you have to admit, there’s a quite real possibility that he is, in fact, one of the cutest boys you’ve ever seen. Rarer still, he’s pretty much the only undeniably attractive boy to walk into this bookshop; the others were well under the age of twelve and hadn’t come looking for books willingly, they had been dragged in by excited mothers and begrudging older sisters. You shift from your position on the counter, your thumb holding your place in your book as you lean froward to continue examining the brunette whose eyes were glued to the shelves in front of him. 

    You slide off the counter and your shoes land on the wooden floor with a soft thump that makes Peter’s gaze shoot up in surprise, the description on the back of the novel in his hand forgotten. The book he’s holding drops to the floor as you make your way over to him, weaving through the maze of shelves like you’ve been doing it all your life before coming to stand in front of him. 

   “I’m supposed to ask if you need help with something,” you explain, brushing your hair out of the way so you can tap on the name tag hanging from your shirt. Y/N. “But you look like you’re fine over here. Unless you do need help…” You trail off a bit, hopeful that he does indeed need your assistance today because no, you don’t really have to ask him if he needs anything, you just kind of want to. Peter nods vigorously, bending down to pick up the book he’s let fall to the floor and shoving it back into place. 

   “UH- yeah yeah no I need help,” he says quickly, placing his hands into his pockets and thinking to himself yeah Peter, help with your inept social ability is what you need. Damn it. “I’m, um, I’m Par- no, no, I’m Peter Parker, not Parker Peter. That wouldn’t sound right. I keep doing that, sorry,” his face goes red as he grows more and more flustered. You watch him with thinly veiled amusement before grinning and sticking your hand out for him to shake. 

   “I’m Y/N. Nice to meet you, Peter Parker, not Parker Peter,” you press your lips together to stop yourself from laughing, but he doesn’t seem to mind. He releases a little breath, shakes his head at himself, then matches your handshake. You turn toward the shelf he’s been staring at for the past seventeen minutes, and it’s your favorite section: young adult. “So… what’d ya need? I’m kind of an expert around these shelves,” you motion at the books. 

   Peter tries to ignore the sweaty feeling on his palms where he shook our hand. “Oh, well actually, I saw that you guys were hiring and I- I need, you know, a job thing. I can do whatever,” he adds, eyes widening when he realizes that he needs to sound more qualified than he does. “You know, I like, read and whatnot… I can count money? I know how to put things in alphabetical order…” 

   “So, uh, basic human skills then?” You tease, raising an eyebrow. He runs a hand through his hair, giving a nervous laugh. All right, so he was pretty fucking cute. You had to give him the job. You’d be mad not to. You pretend to think about this, then you take him by the sleeve of his sweater and lead him to the register as you slip behind the counter. “Kidding. Don’t look so nervous. I’m like the least intimidating person ever.” I beg to differ. Peter’s hands twist the hem of his shirt around. “You’re hired. Fill this out and you can start Monday. I’ll let the boss know.” You hand him an application form and smile at him, his nerves dissipating as quickly as they came when he saw you. Your fingers trace over the cover of your book out of habit, and his eyes follow the cover. 

   “You sure your boss will be okay with you hiring a kid with no work experience whatsoever and bad social skills?” He asks, grabbing a pen off the cup beside your register as you shrug. 

   “The boss is my mom so… I’m pretty sure you’ll be fine,” you lift yourself back onto the countertop so you can peer down at him as he begins filling out the application right then and there. “Benjamin. That’s nice. I like it.” You point to where he’s scrawled his middle name in terribly messy handwriting. 

   “Yeah? Thank you,” he smiles back at you, but it’s soft and it’s sad even though he knows you couldn’t possibly have any inclination as to who he was named after. Swift to change the subject, Peter lets his pen rest against the paper and grabs the book lying next to you on the counter. “The Night Circus. What’s this about? Any good?” 

    He flips it over so he can read the back of it, the cover a shining black and red that he can’t help but run his hand over because it’s smooth and surprisingly nice to touch. You can’t help the way you light up inside when he asks you about your book. People never took much interest in what you read, and your friends had a habit of teasing you about your intense reading habits since no one else enjoyed it quite as much as you did. “Yeah! Yeah I love it so far, it’s about magicians and stuff but… way more complicated than that. Really good though. It’s right over by where you were looking earlier.” You point in the vague direction, but Peter is aware of what section you’re referring to. “I kind of just grab the books off the shelf sometimes and take ‘em home. My mom doesn’t really notice and there’s not that many people who come in here anyway so I have a big collection at home.”

   “That’s awesome!” Peter genuinely grins at you, chin perched in his hand as he hands you back the book. “When you’re done, d’you think I could borrow it? So we can have something to talk about during work. Plus it sounds interesting.” The smile you give him, absolutely radiant, is indescribably beautiful in Peter’s eyes and he watches you disappear for a moment only to return with a shiny, new copy of the book sitting on the counter. 

   “Mom doesn’t check,” you say again, your face heating up when your fingers brush against his in the exchange of the book. “Gonna warn you, though, I’ll be done by the end of the weekend, so don’t expect me to have the same book come your first day of work.” 

   Peter opens the first page. “Whatcha gonna be reading on Monday, then?” 

   You meet his eyes for a split second. Warm, watchful, careful eyes. Eyes that you could definitely see yourself falling for. “I’ll let you know.” 


   He’s indubitably happy for the rest of the weekend. He bounces his knee whilst on the train ride home, he grins to himself alone in his room as he lies on his back and holds the book above him so he can read by lamplight, and when he sits down to dinner with May he keeps blushing for no apparent reason as he eats boxed macaroni and cheese that May insists she could make from scratch if she really tried. 

  “You’re awfully happy tonight,” she remarks, taking a bite of the Kraft dinner and surveying her nephew carefully. “Anything special happen today in the city?”

 Peter shrugs nonchalantly, trying to play it off as if it were nothing special, but he knows that you’re special, and he’s only known you for maybe an hour and he had forgotten to ask for your number like the clueless idiot he was more often than not. Didn’t matter, though, because he was sure that he could get it on Monday when he headed over at noon. Thank the Gods for summer vacation. “Oh, um, nothing really,” he says, trying, and failing, to contain his excitement. “I just got a job and I met a girl and I like her already and now we work together and we’re gonna talk about books all the time and I’m really excited because I start Monday and she gave me a book and we’re gonna talk about it and I might fall in love with her but I don’t know yet but there’s a very strong possibility of that happening and I’m really really happy right now but that’s it no big deal you know?” 

   May blinks. Peter often goes off on tangents when he’s overly enthusiastic, or when he’s nervous. But she reaches across the table and squeezes his hand tightly. “Let me know when you’re positive that you’re gonna fall in love with her, because I’d like to stamp my approval on this one. I’m happy for you Peter.” May pauses, then says, “Don’t even think about giving me your paycheck.” 

   “May!” 


    Every morning from Monday on consists of Peter arriving at work with a cup of coffee in his hand, iced coffee because it’s summertime and there’s a Dunkin Donuts on every corner of New York City, promptly at twelve to see you sitting in your usual position with a book in your hand. You read rather quickly, and Peter can hardly catch up with the five books you go through each week, but he tries since he needs to be able to talk to you about something. After sometime, though, you start talking about things other than books. There’s science, and math, art, and school, and your parents and his Uncle Ben, and May, and anything and everything you can think of. But your day always starts the same. 

   Peter, walking in with his coffee in hand and a lanyard slung around his neck, his little ID picture adorably dorky because he’s half blinking but still smiling. He slides another coffee across the counter toward you- he eventually received your number that same Monday morning he started working there and then texted you asking for your usual order. Sometimes he gets you a donut, too, if you ask him. Then, he starts sorting through the new orders that have just come in, stacking them alphabetically of course (it was one of his special skills, after all) and calls across the store, “Whatcha reading today, Y/N?” And you’ll yell back the answer, typically a different one every two days, as he pulls his phone out of his pocket and marks the title on a list of what he has to read. He refuses to read Game of Thrones, insisting the show was much easier for him to follow. You practically threw a fit when you found out he hadn’t finished the Harry Potter series, so that was at the very top of his list and he came in this particular morning with a copy of the third book sitting in his shoulder bag. 

   “Morning, Peter,” you call out happily, not looking up from the pages of The Raven Boys by Maggie Stiefvater when the bell overhead the door sings out an announcement of his arrival. You hold out your hand for your drink, and it lands there without hesitation. 

   “Good morning,” he grins back, pushing up your hand to see the cover of your book properly. “Whatcha reading today?” He looks up at you expectantly, taking a sip of his drink. You place your bookmark in your book and hand it over to him, kicking your feet back and forth. “Should I add this one to the list, too?” 

   “Yes!” You exclaim, waiting for him to be finished with the first page. “But don’t you dare read anything on it before you read Harry Potter, got it, Parker?” The warning is so playful it makes Peter laugh before he nods, taking his spot behind the register this time. You have to write up the chalkboard signs for outside the store, and it’s been agreed that you have the prettier handwriting out of the two of you. “My mom thinks you’re doing a good job helping me out,” you mention casually after a few minutes of comfortable silence, your tongue between your lips as you slowly begin drawing a purple stack of books on the chalkboard stand. 

   “Really?” Peter asks, eyebrows raised in surprise. He didn’t do much around the store, to be quite honest, mostly because he never worked the register. Even if he did, the way you did every day, there weren’t many customers that came in. You received more online orders than anything else. “I’m not even really sure why you hired me in the first place, honestly. I wasn’t qualified, like, at all, Y/N.” He laughs again, he’s always laughing with you. 

   You purse your lips, the pink chalk in your hand hovering over the book you were attempting to illustrate properly. There were a lot of ways you could reply to this. There was the risky way. There was the safe way. There was the in between sort of way. After an internal debate, you say, “Well, what can I say? I have a penchant for looking at pretty things, and, um, you’re not bad to look at, Peter. For a boy, you’re kind of pretty.” You don’t look at him when you say it, but he’s staring at you like he’s never seen you before. It’s the look of a boy falling in love for the first time. You can feel it in the heat in your stomach when you finally turn around to face him, standing up and brushing chalk dust off your jeans as he contains to gaze at you with that soft air about him. “What?” You lightly shove his arm. 

   “Wh- what? I mean, um, nothing, uh, nothing.” Peter runs a hand through his hair, messing up the carefully gelled way he does his hair every morning for work. “Absolutely nothing.” His face is burning red, eyes trained on the register like it’s the only thing he can look at without fainting, and there’s a trace of a smile on his lips but he doesn’t want to show it just yet. 

    You lean against the counter. In his peripheral vision, he notices the tiny smirk playing at the corner of your mouth, a smirk bordering on something gentler and kinder than you desired it to. Arms folded across your chest, staring at him hard. Your smile is burning as bright as the spring sunshine in April after a particularly hard day of rain the day previously, but he’s still not looking at you, so you say, “Did we just reach the part in the young adult contemporary novel where you start falling in love with me?” You see his hand freeze atop the register, and he can feel the way his cheeks are glowing too red to be blamed on the heat of the summer. “You know, I bet we did.” You move to make your way to the front of the store, but Peter turns around just in time to grab your hand and pull you into him.  

   His fingers smoothly slip through yours. “If we did, that’d be okay, right? You wouldn’t mind your love interest being… all me-like?” The self doubt is always so clear with him, but you bring yourself closer still with a shake of your head. 

   “You’d make a great love interest,” you reply softly.  

    The taste of cold coffee from Dunkin Donuts lingers on his lips when he kisses you for the first time that day, the coffee that he dumps copious amounts of sugar packets into because he can’t stand the bitterness but wants to keep drinking it. The coffee he loves despite the odd looks he receives from passerby that can’t help but stare at the boy with messy hair and a lanyard around his neck and bright eyes who keeps ripping open packs of sugar at the counter and pouring them in. You’ve loved cold coffee already, but you love it a little more now that there’s a new way of tasting it, and the next day when he walks into your little bookshop you’re the one with mouth that tastes like his morning pick me up- and neither of you have ever been more grateful for books in your life. 

Keep reading

draganchitsa  asked:

“I was going to kiss him, but then my friend texted me about going to Taco Bell, and, well, there’s this cashier that works there who is way cuter, so I bailed on the rest of the date.” - pick your pairing, if you're still taking prompts!

Ned was cute, she supposed - it was weird that he had the same name as her dad and he was a bit too prissy for her tastes, but he had nice eyes and never tried to let her win at fencing practice like some of the other guys did, so Arya had agreed to one singular date.

He’d taken her to some hipster coffee shop and bought her an overpriced cappuccino, and they’d mostly talked about fencing. It was practically the same as every other date she had been on (what was it with Harrenhal College boys and hipster coffee?), but he was kind of cute, and she hadn’t gotten laid in months, so…

“Are you planning on studying abroad?”

“Yeah, next semester, I think.” Arya took another tentative sip of her drink, wiping the foam from her lip. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed her phone light up in her bag.

“Where are you thinking about going?”

“Braavos, hopefully.” Her screen dimmed momentarily, then lit up again. “There’s a good linguistics program there.”

Ned leaned forward. “Could you do training there? The fencing masters…”

He kept talking, and Arya knew she should listen, but her phone chimed for a third time. She reached into her bag, trying to look down as subtly as possible. Who the hell…?

Lya M [7:56pm]: i want taco bell

Lya M [7:56pm]: come to taco bell with me

Lya M [7:57pm]: aryaaaaaa

Arya smiled blandly at something Ned was saying (when had they gotten on to the history of Braavosi ships?).

Arya Stark [7:58pm]: I’m on a date

Lya M [7:58pm]: mr arms is working tonight

Ah. Mr Arms (real name Gendry, according to his name tag) was approximately eight feet tall, with arms the size of tree trunks and bright blue eyes, and always waited patiently when drunk Lya was giggling too much to order. Arya was convinced he was possibly the most beautiful man she had ever seen, and she was sure he had no idea she existed.

“… and the Free Cities were the first to build these faster, lightweight ships, since…”

“I have to go.”

“What?”

“Family emergency. Sorry. I’ll call you?” Arya grabbed her bag, flashing a half-apologetic grin, and rushed out the door.

Arya Stark [8:01pm]: On my way


Sansa [10:13am]: How was the date with Ned?

Arya Stark [10:13am]:  I was going to kiss him, but then my friend texted me about going to Taco Bell, and, well, there’s this cashier that works there who is way cuter, so I bailed on the rest of the date.

Sansa [10:14am]: ARYA

anonymous asked:

thoughts on the rolling stone article? overall i thought it was fairly lowkey on the bs meter and thankfully focused the most on harry and his new album

Anonymous said:

What did you think about the Rolling Stone article? It could have been worse, right?


Welp, I was expecting that his promo would follow the established Zayn track in terms of the official narrative. But it was still very disappointing. I shouldn’t be surprised that many in the fandom are downplaying the obvious bullshit. Is it because it’s Harry and there’s the expectation of sincerity whereas we’re used to getting blatant lies from everyone else? Or is it because after Harry being muzzled for this long, it’s a big letdown for his official narrative to beam our exhausted asses back to 2012??

Let me be clear, this is no different than the Zayn articles we got. It’s the same awkward mix of official narrative nonsense and subtle as a sledgehammer rebranding. Harry is now the very deep hipster with well curated taste in music you’re not quite cool enough to be listening to. You are blessed that he’s sharing his philosophical musings with you. Same as how Zayn was rebranded as too damn cool for 1D. You were blessed that he shared his weed fueled musings with you. Yeah ok. It amazes me that people who are deep in the fandom think either narrative is authentic. And it’s not that Harry isn’t a deep hipster or that Zayn is naturally very cool. It that it’s soooo exaggerated because these days everything is written to an audience that is perceived to be rather dumb. It’s insulting.

One of the things that galled me the most was the latest outbreak of Herpes Haylor. I’m supposed to believe that the author thought reanimating that zombie that lived for 2 months 5 damn years ago was more intriguing than asking him about the more recent…

Really?? I know this is the elephant in the room. So in all honesty I didn’t expect this to be brought up. But don’t try to tell me that the new fans Harry is courting give a fuck about Haylor. What I hoped was that he’d be allowed to swerve on the whole thing. If you can’t discuss it honestly then let’s not discuss it at all, k? That’s obviously asking too much.

Also since when is evolved, woman respecting, Harry slut shaming women over the length of their skirts?? And a short skirt means you can’t bring her home to mother? What? The? Fuck? It happens every time with 1DHQ. They can’t frame their narratives from any pov other than sexism and misogyny. I’ve said before they are a very woman hating bunch of troglodytes. And he wrote songs about Kendall? Boring, vapid, vacuous, Kendall inspired uber-deep hipster Harry’s songwriting process? Lies! I hate, hate, hate, that Harry is being used to contribute to the mythos of this empty woman. Bitch, if you wanna be noted, do something noteworthy. Not cringeworthy (hello Pepsi debacle), but noteworthy. 

Another thing that bothers me is Ben Winston (and by extension James Corden) being allowed to use Harry’s feature to promo themselves. Not only that, but sleazy Ben is propping up the official narrative as well. That old story about Harry living in Ben’s attic was dredged up again. Because God forbid you think he was living with Louis. And not only that, the story has been embellished.

“He wasn’t always alone,” corrects Winston, “but it was exciting seeing the array of A-listers that would come up and sleep in the attic.”

Could he sound like any more of a creepy star fucker?? And lowkey imply that Harry just brought home strangers willy nilly and unannounced into his lovely quaint family home like he wasn’t raised right ?? I can’t stand him. And even if these words were put in his mouth, fuck him for allowing it.

So I think the fandom collectively has low standards if they’re ok with this. Because this article was crap. And it’s ok to call it crap. That’s no shade on Harry. Contrary to what many of you wanna believe, he’s still a cog in a machine much bigger than him. I’ll continue to enjoy Harry and the music and cheer for his success because regardless of the shadiness, he deserves to shine. Just understand that this article makes it crystal clear that Harry is in the same boat as the rest of 1D and that none of these guys are free from 1DHQ. That’s an unpleasant wake-up call, but it’s way past time to wake-up.

anonymous asked:

hellooo :D how are you?? i hope your having a good day and was wondering if you can rec any waiter/delivery boy fics??

sure !

WAITER AU

- autumn leaves , by @suspendrs : Or, Harry is an American soldier in France during World War II, and Louis is a French waiter that doesn’t mean to fall in love with him. (27k, NR)

- This Shifting Ground , by zarah5 : University AU. In which Louis, law student, is the cheeky waiter to Harry’s dates. This is how it starts. (28k, M)

- Summer Loving Happened So Fast , by kikikryslee :     Or, the one where Harry is staying at his dad’s beach house for the week and meets Louis on the third day. Five days later, he thinks he might be way past the ‘summer fling’ stage. (16k, M)

- Tall Tales For Summer , bturnyourankle  :   Harry knows something is up when his mum insists on throwing him a birthday party in the summer. He’s even more suspicious of her intentions when he notices the guest list is all male. (Or, modern nobility AU where Harry’s mother is trying to set him up without his knowledge.) (11k, E)

- The Accidental Dateby louisandthealien  :   The Valentine’s Day AU where Louis gets stood up for his date and, instead of going home, ends up eating an entire five course meal by himself out of spite (and not at all because his waiter’s cute as hell.) (9k, G)

- Aphrodisiac , by  aimmyarrowshigh :   The day he made roasted asparagus tips wrapped in Serrano ham with lemon aïoli, Louis knew: Harry Styles was trying to seduce him. (4k, NR)

- the first meal is free , by blameitontheboyband :  Harry works at a restaurant. Louis comes in one night after work. (3.5k, G)    

- Put Your Hands on Me in My Skintight Jeansby  iwillpaintasongforlou :    Harry is a popstar who –according to the media– does a lot of cocaine and fucks a lot of boys. Louis is a waiter at a gay nightclub who finds it hard to believe that anyone who wears a straw hat to a bar can be the party animal Harry’s made out to be.(Famous!Harry meets non-famous!Louis in a club and things progress from there… in the direction of Louis’ bedroom.) (7k, E)        

- hot, sticky sweet, by  @a-writerwrites “concept: harry (in early 20s) being a cutesy little waiter at this cute milkshake and bakery type shop that’s all frilly and pink and they wear roller skates and serve the people there and harry is in cute high waisted shorts and an adorable crop top…” (6k, E)

- I always Get Lucky, by @phd-mama : When Louis complains that he’s been single too long, Niall decides to help him out by signing him up for Gaydar, a “dating” app. What happens when a great guy messages him? Just remember, not everything you read on the internet is true. (7k, T)

- paris holds the key , by  fleetofships :  They’re all moments that pale in comparison to what Harry feels right then, standing in front of the dark Parisian restaurant, with the sun barely peeking over rooftops of the 4th arrondissement. It’s a late September morning. He feels like he might throw up from excitement, or cry from nerves, or both. But he doesn’t. He’s learned to keep it together. Harry tries to regulate his breathing, and stuffs his hands into his coat to do something that isn’t fidgeting. He’s only been here for two days, but his heart hasn’t stopped beating since he got off the train.  It’s Paris. Here’s finally here, with a semi-fluency in French, and he somehow gets to extern for three and a half months at British ex-pat Simon Cowell’s contemporary brasserie. ++ Culinary AU. Harry is an extern pâtissier abroad for three months, Niall gets him the job, Louis is a cheeky server who only speaks French, and Liam is Harry’s boss and really likes Zayn’s bread. (9k, M)

- walking with each other think we’ll never match at all (but we do), by larryjohnlock  : Louis, along with Niall & Zayn, gets a job on a luxury cruise from Southampton to New York. Harry’s the son to a businessman. They meet when Louis is serving Harry’s table. This is just something dumb that turned out longer than it should’ve. So. A little bit of angst, a little bit of sex but mostly just Harry and Louis on a boat. And in a kareoke-bar. (30k, M)

- All Waiters Deserve a Tip,  by SLD24 :  Louis is a really clumsy waiter who is forced to serve Harry and his date. (5k, NR)

- hipster boy , by zaplarry : Louis was supposed to be on a blind date but he can’t seem to keep his eye off the clumsy waiter. (3k, NR)

DELIVERY BOY AU

- Special Topping , by LoadedGunn  : Or, the AU where Harry delivers pizza and Louis really just wants Tim Gunn to spank him. (13k, E)

- Pizza Boy , by @waytoomanypeopleintheaddisonlee : “You just flirted with the pizza boy. On your anniversary! Liam’s in the next room!!”
“Alright, alright, calm down. I was not flirting, I was just being friendly.”
“Unbelievable.” Harry scoffed, expressing his irritation. Niall joined them in the kitchen, pulling open the pizza box greedily and helping himself to a slice. “Harry’s just upset ‘cause you flirted with his boy.” Niall smirked. - Harry fancies the pizza boy and attempts to flirt.
  (3k, T)

- making love like professionals on the first time, by jacqharries   :   “Oh,” Louis mutters. He.. what? Did the green eyed, tight trouser wearing, plump lipped, ringlety haired boy just say that? “Thanks?”  The boy frowns, confused as to why Louis sounds confused. “You told me to.”  "Excuse me?“  "To give you a compliment.”  "Oh! Oh, right. You went proper poet on that, mate. I was just hoping for a ‘hey, you look okay today’ or something.“ Or, Louis orders pizza and asks papa to bring him a cute boy that will give him a compliment. sex transpires, obviously. (5k, E)

- Pizza My Heartby Happilysunlight and  yslstagram : Plans fell through, and Louis ends up alone for his birthday and Christmas. He gets a little tipsy and decides to order pizza put on a show for the delivery boy. Harry’s just elated he gets to deliver a pizza to the boy he’s had a crush on for years. (13k, E)

- Knock Knockby watchoutamore  : Harry is in his second year of uni and orange chicken and pizza are the only things he and his best friend Niall can afford. It’s just a plus that he gets a cute delivery boy on the other end of the phone. (5k, M)

archiveofourown.org
Discards by picascribit
Non-magic slow-burn library AU with heavy themes and a happy ending
By Organization for Transformative Works

Word Count: 76k - COMPLETE!
Fandom: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Sirius Black/Remus Lupin, Remus Lupin & Lily Evans Potter, Sirius Black & James Potter, James Potter/Lily Evans Potter (side pairing)
Characters: Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, James Potter, Lily Evans, Peter Pettigrew, Severus Snape
Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Non-Magical, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Romance, Slow Burn, Fluff and Angst, Angst, Getting Together, Falling In Love, Friendship, Found Family, Families of Choice, Libraries, College, Homelessness, HIV/AIDS, Sex Work, Poverty, Seattle, LGBTQ Themes, Trans Male Character, POV Trans Character, Trans!Sirius, Bisexual!Sirius, Japanese-American Character, Japanese-American!Sirius, Gay Male Character, Gay!Remus, Latino Character, Latino!Remus, LGBTQ Character of Color, Jewish Character, LGBTQ Jewish Character(s), Jewish!Lily, bisexual!Lily, Black Character(s), Black!James, Asshole!Snape, Secrets, Bad Parenting, Parental Rejection, Anxiety Disorder, Panic Attacks, Drug Use, Texting, Cuddling & Snuggling, Kissing, It’s not a downer I swear!, Embedded Images
Series: Part 1 of Discards Verse - subscribe for notification of sequels!
Summary: When 21-year-old assistant librarian Sirius spots a cute hipster college student at the Seattle Public Library, he just needs to figure out a subtle way of determining whether he’s into guys. But Remus’s life is more complicated than Sirius knows.

Excerpt:

James gave him an incredulous look as he turned the car onto Yesler Way. “You’re telling me that out of the thousands of people who visit the Seattle Central Library every week - smart people, who like to read for fun - there’s not a single one who seems interesting?”

“Even if there was someone I thought was interesting,” said Sirius, “it’s not like I could hit on him at work. There are rules about that, you know.”

“‘Him’?” James raised his eyebrows. “Is this a theoretical 'him’, or an actual flesh-and-blood 'him’ we’re talking about?”

Sirius scowled. “It’s no one. Just a guy I’ve seen around a couple of times.”

“What’s he like, this mystery man of yours?” James grinned.

Sirius shrugged again. “Kind of a hipster maybe. Skinny jeans, flannel shirt, knit cap. You know the type. Latino, I think. But I haven’t talked to him or anything.”

“Why not?” asked James. “Afraid your charm and sheer animal magnetism might make him swoon on the spot?”

Sirius rolled his eyes again. “What am I supposed to say to a guy who’s just sitting there, reading? ’Need someone to turn the page for you?’ Anyway, he’s probably straight. And even if he isn’t, he probably wouldn’t be into someone like me.”

James’s teasing smile faded. “Hey, don’t talk like that. You’re a great guy. Why wouldn’t he be into you?”

Sirius gazed moodily out the windshield at the slowly-moving lanes of traffic. “You know.”

Oh, So You Can Carry The Ring To Mordor But You Can't Carry Your Best Friend-Slash-Obvious Love Interest Down The Road To The Corner Shop? How Very Convenient For You.

*crashes through door with an armful of candy and puppies* GUESS WHAT MOTHERFLIPPERS BEES IS BACK AND SHE’S GOT FLUFF

Thanks @liztalkstrash for this ADORABLE prompt- sorry it’s taken so long to get to it! Everyone who’s sent me prompts, they’re all in the works, I’m just finding writing a lil’ tricky at the moment. Hoping to get back into the swing of it a bit with Kurlish Week!

Anyway, this one kicked my ass a bit but I’m actually pretty chuffed (in the good sense) with how it turned out. Special shout out to @lavellington for reading this over for me and being her lovely self. 

Enjoy! <3

(read it on Ao3 if that’s where ya like your fluff <3)


Dirk likes to think that there’s several things he’s rather good at. He’s a good detective, despite many claims to the contrary by third parties who should learn to mind their own business. He’s good at making hot chocolate to the perfect degree of chocolately-ness (for himself- apparently his threshold for sweetness is higher than Todd’s, Farah’s or… pretty much anyone else’s). And eating, talking, breathing and walking are four things he’s managed- after many years of trial and error- to master.

But no matter how confident you are in your hard-earned walking skill, a healthy dose of searing pain can knock you right back to square one. Or step one, in this case. Whoever’s responsible for the architecture of this art gallery is either a sadist or clinically depressed, and wants the world to know it. There’s just something about it. Maybe it’s the drab grey bricks, a perfect match to the drab grey aura. Perhaps it’s more to do with the way it sags tiredly in on itself without surrendering an inch of its imposing height. Whatever it is, the whole set-up radiates gloom and hostility. And the stone steps Dirk now finds himself sprawled out on, much like the so-called ‘comfy’ chairs inside, are clearly not designed to have anything more than passing and cautiously professional contact with actual human bottoms.

“Oh, God, Todd, it’s awful!” Dirk moans, rubbing his throbbing ankle. “Worst pain of my life!”

“You had two crossbow bolts in your shoulder last year,” Todd reminds him, arms crossed and- like the building and its horrible stairs- staunchly unsympathetic.

Keep reading

  • Baby: J-J-J
  • Mom: Come on you can do it. Juice?
  • Baby: Ja- Ja-Japan is an island by the sea filled with volcanoes and it's 🎶beautiful🎶. In the year negative a billion Japan might not have been here. In the year negative fourty thousand it was here and you could walk to it, and some people walked to it. Then it got warmer, some ice burgs melted, it became an island, and now there's lots of trees! because it's warmer. So now there's people on the island, they're basically sort of hanging out in between the mountains eating nuts off trees and using the latest technology like stones and bowls. Ding dong, it's the outside world and they have technology from the future (bronze age) like really good metal and c r a z y r i c e f a r m s. Now you can make A LOT of rice like really really quickly. That means if you own the farm you own a lot of food which is something everybody needs to SURVIVE. So that makes you king. Rice farming and rice kingdoms spread across the land. All the way to here. The most important kingdoms were here(hi), here(chikushi), here(izumo), here(kibi), here(yamato), here(koshi), and here(kenu). But this one (yamato) was the most most important, ruled by a "heavenly superperson" called (emperor) for short. Knock knock. Get the door, it's RELIGION. The new prince (prince shotoku) wants everyone to try this hot new religion (buddhism) from Baekj. "Please try this religion." He said. "No." Said everybody. "Try iiiittt" He said. "No." Said everybody again, quieter this time. And so the religion was put into place and all the rules that came with it. Then the government was taken over by a new clique and they made some reforms (Taika Reforms) like -making the government govern more and -making the government more like China's government, which is a government that governs more. "Hi China." They said. "Hi dipshit." (hi "wa"(dwarf)) Said China. "Can you call us something else, other than dipshit?" Said Japan. "Like what?" Said China. "🎶How about sunrise land?🎶" (nihon) (Japan) and so they stole China's alphabet and wrote a book about themselves. And then they made lots of poetry and art and another book about themselves. Then they stopped moving the capital every time the emperor died and kept it in one place for awhile. Right here (kyoto). And they conquered the north finally. Get that squared away. A rich hipster named kukai is bored with modern buddhism, visits china, and learns a better version (zen buddhism) which is more 🎶spiritual🎶. He goes back, reinvents the alphabet, and causes art and literature to be 🎶great🎶 for a long time and the rural palace turned into such a dream world of art that they really didn't give a shit about running the country. So if you live outside the palace, how are you supposed to protect your shit from criminals? 🎶Hire a samurai🎶. Everyone started hiring samurai. Correction - rich important people hired samurai. Poor people who could not afford to hire samurai did not hire samurai. The samurai became organised and powerful. More powerful than the government. So they made their own military government here. They let the emperor still be "emperor" but the shogun is actually in control. BREAKING NEWS the Mongols have invaded China. "We've invaded China" said the Mongols, "Please respect us or else we might invade you as well." "Okay" said Japan. So the Mongols came over, ready for war. Then died in a tornado. But they tried again and had a nice time fighting with the Japanese but then died in a tornado. Then the emperor overthrows the shogunate, then the shogunate overthrows him back then moves to kyoto and makes a new shogunate (ashikaga shogunate). The "emperor" can still dress like an emperor if he wants that's fine. 🎶Now there's more art🎶. Like painting with less colors, collaborative poetry, plays, monkey fun, tea parties, gardening, architecture, flowers. It's time for "who's going to be the next shogun?" Usually it's the shogun's kid, but the shogun doesn't have a kid. So he tries to get his brother to quit being a monk and be the next shogun, he says "✔ok." But then the shogun has a kid, so now who's it gonna be? Vote now on your phones, and everyone voted so hard (onin war) that the palace caught on fire and burned down. The shogun actually didn't care, he was off somewhere doing poetry. And the whole country broke into pieces (sengoku jidai). Everyone is fighting with each other for local power and it's anybody's game. Knock knock, it's Europe. No, they're not here to take over (yet). They just wanna sell some shit. Like clocks and guns and 🎶jesus🎶. So that's cool, but everyone's still fighting each other for control. Now with guns!! and wouldn't it be nice to control the capital (kyoto)? Which right now is puppets with no one controlling them. This clan (imagawa) is ready to make a run for it, but first they have to trample this smaller clan (oda) which is in the way. Surprise! the smaller clan wins and the leader of that clan (oda nobunaga) steals the idea of invading the capital and invades the capital. And it goes very well 👍. He's about halfway through conquering Japan when someone who works for him kills him, then someone else who works for him kills them. And that guy (toyotomi hideyoshi) finishes conquering Japan. And then he confiscated everybody's swords. And made some rules (no having a sword (or a gun) no climbing the social ladder pay taxes). "and now I'm going to invade korea and then hopefully china" he said and failed, and also died. But before he died he told these five guys (council of 5 elders) (ukita hideie, uesugi kagekatsu, mori terumoto, tokugawa ieyasu, maeda toshiie) to take care of his five-year-old son until he's old enough to be the next ruler of Japan. And the five guys said, "Yeah, right. It's not gonna be this kid. It's gonna be one of us. Cuz we're grownups. And it's probably gonna be this guy (tokugawa ieyasu) who happens to be way more rich and powerful than the others. A lot of people support him, but a lot of people support not supporting him. They have a fight and he wins. And starts a new government right here, 🎶Edo🎶 and he still lets the "emperor" dress like an emperor and have very nice things, but don't get confused, this is the new government (tokugawa family) and they're very strict. So strict they closed the country. (sakoku 鎖国 closed country) No one can leave and no one can come in. Except for the Dutch if they wanna buy and sell shit, but they have to do it right here (dejima). Now that the entire country was not at war with itself, the population increased a lot, business increased, schools were built, roads were built, everyone learned to read, books were published, there was poetry, plays, sexy times, puppet shows, and dutch studies. People started to study european science from books they bought from the dutch. We're talking geography, skeletons, physics, chemistry, astronomy, and maybe even electricity. Over time, the economic and cultural prosperity began to gradually slow down. Knock knock. It's the United States. With huge boats. With guns. Gunboats. "Open the country. Stop having it be closed." Said the United States. There's really nothing they can do so they signed a contract that lets the united states, britain, and russia visit japan any time they want. choshu and satsuma hated this 👎. "That sucks." They said. "This sucks!!!" and with almost very little outside help, they overthrew the shogunate (boshin war) and somehow made the emperor (emperor meiji) emperor again and moved him to Eto which they renamed "Eastern Capital". They made a new government, which was "a lot more western" (-new york times review). They made a new constitution (meiji constitution) that was pretty western. And a military that was pretty western (large). And do you know what else is Western? That's right, it's conquering stuff. So what can we conquer? Korea. So they conquered Korea. Taking it from its previous owner, china, and then got a little further and Russia rushes in out of nowhere and says, "stop, no, you can't take that we were gonna build a railroad through here to try to get some warm water." and Russia builds their railroad, supervised by a shit ton of soldiers. And then when the railroad was done they downgraded to A FUCK TON. Did I say downgrade? I meant upgrade. And Japan says "can you maybe chill?" and then Russia says "How About Maybe You Chill?" Japan is kinda scared of Russia. You'll never guess who's also kinda scared of Russia. Great Britain! So Japan and Great Britain make an alliance so they can be "a little less scared of Russia". Feeling confident, Japan goes to war against Russia (russo-japanese war) just for a moment and then they both get tired and stop. 🎶it's time for World War 1🎶 The World is about to Have A War. Cuz it's the 1900s and weapons are getting crazy and all these empires are excited to try them out on each other. Meanwhile, Japan has been enjoying conquering stuff and wants MORE. the next thing on their list is this part of China (qingdao) and lots of tiny islands (palau, marianas, carolines, marshall islands). But all that stuff belongs to Germany, who just had war declared on them from Britain because Britain was friends with Belgium which was being trespassed by Germany so they could get to France to kick France's ass because France is friends with Russia who is getting ready to kick Austria's ass because Austria was just about to kick Serbia's ass because someone from Serbia shot the leader of Austria's ass. Or... actually they shot him in the head. And Britain is currently friends with Japan, so you know what that means. Duh. 🎶japan should take the islands🎶 which they wanted to do anyway. So they called Britain on the tele(gram) to sort of let them know (can we take the islands thanks). Then they did it. And they also helped Britain a little here and there with some errands and stuff. Now the war is over and congratulations Japan! you technically fought in the war which means you get to sit at the negotiating table (paris peace conference) with the big dudes where they decided who owns what. And yes, Japan gets to keep all that shit they stole from Germany. You also get to join the post-war mega alliance 🎶the League of Nations🎶 whose mission statement is to try not to take over the world. The great depression is bad and Japan's economy is now crappy. But the military is doing just fine and it invades manchuria. And the League of Nations is like, "no, don't do that, if you're in the league of nations you're not supposed to take over the world!" and Japan said 🎶"how bout i do anyway?"🎶 and Japan invaded more and more and more and more of China. and was planning to invade the entire East. You've got mail! It's from Germany, the new leader of Germany. He has a cool mustache and he's trying to take over the world and needs friends. This also got forwarded to Italy. They all decided to be friends because they had so much in common. 🎶it's time for World War 2! (the sequel)🎶 Germany is invading the neighbors then they invade the neighbor's neighbors then the neighbor's neighbor's neighbors who happen to be Britain said 🎶"holy shit"🎶 and the United States started helping Britain because they're 🎶good friends🎶 and they started not helping Japan because 🎶"their friends and our friends are not friends" "plus they're planning on invading the entire ocean"🎶 the United States is also working on a large very huge bomb (atom bomb). "bigger than any other bomb, ever™" just in case. But they still haven't joined the war. War looks bad on TV and the United States is really starting to care about their image. But then Japan spits on them in Hawaii (pearl harbor) and then challenges them to war. They say yes. And then Germany, as a symbol of friendship ❤, declares war on the United States also. So the United States goes to war in Europe. And they help the gang chase Germany back into Germany and they also start chasing Japan back into Japan. And they haven't used the bomb yet, and they're curious to see if it works. So they drop it on Japan (hiroshima). They actually dropped two (nagasaki). The United States installed a new government inspired by the United States government. With just the right ingredients for a 🎶post-war economic miracle🎶 and Japan starts making TVs, VCRs, automobiles, and camcorders as fast as they can and also better than everybody else. They get rich. And the economy goes wild. And then the miracle wears off. But everything is still pretty cool I guess. 🎶Bye🎶
Sorry || Soulmate AU

Member: Mark x Reader || Small Jackson cameo || Sad, somewhat happy but sad.

Word Count: 2,717

T.W.: Mention of pregnancy scare.

A.N.  Inspired by Halsey’s new song called “Sorry” from her new album.

“But I still know your birthday and your mother’s favorite song”

Credit for gif -> xxx


People are often told that soulmates are only one person and if you ever find your soulmate its often a beautiful thing. Though that’s what most people say they never mention the so-called ugly side, which could be everyone wants to believe thanks to fairytales, there really is no ugly side of being with your soulmate. Which is all a lie because no matter what relationship you’re in it will have ups and downs.  The story behind Mark and his soulmate is heartbreaking but the outcome would be the best for the both of them.

It started during the 3rd year of university; it was midterm week or what could be known as hell week number 1 around the school. Depending on who’s working the late shifts at the library you could ask nicely if you could spend an extra hour or two after closing hours to study for a little bit longer.  It goes that the worker forgot that Mark was still in the computer lab printing out the 10-page study guide that he created for extra credit on his midterm. Luck would so happen that Mark wasn’t the only one that was locked up in the library. As Mark was heading towards the libraries front doors to walk to his dorm, he saw someone banging on the doors in hope that they would open.

“Are you having trouble opening the doors?” Mark asked as he approached you.

“Yes, because all the doors are locked.” You responded in a snarky tone, you took what he said in the wrong way and to be honest he meant it that way too. Yesterday he saw some thin kid kept pushing the door instead of pulling the door.

Keep reading

How about PhD candidate!Derek and writer!Stiles who both spend most of their days at the same coffee shop because they offer free refills and their muffins are to die for.

Derek usually takes up two tables with all of his research materials and his laptop.  He’s got his usual spot in the back corner where the windows and outside world can’t distract him, but he’s always getting distracted by the guy who, in recent months, has taken up residence at the table next to his.  Whose long fingers dance over the keyboard of his old MacBook so quickly it’s like he’s scared the words will leave him if he doesn’t get them out. He can’t tell if he’s a mega hipster or if he just really likes flannels and beanies, but either way he’s just Derek’s type with his full lips and whiskey eyes.

And Stiles, well he’s working on his second novel and he’s behind on his deadline because he couldn’t focus at home with Scott and Kira planning their wedding and now he can’t even focus at the coffee shop because this guy with his soft dark hair, his pale, ever changing eyes, and his fucking glasses that slip down his nose when he’s really focused.  At this rate the second book in his time traveling mystery series will never get written, especially not if the sweater clad hottie keeps growing out his mountain man beard out. 

They don’t ever really speak except for the occasional hello or good morning, but they notice each other all the time. Derek knows that if hot hipster is struggling with whatever he’s writing that he get’s an iced mocha and gnaws on the straw in a way that really shouldn’t turn Derek on, but it does. 

Stiles knows that if Hottie McBeardie is having a bad day of research that he get’s a brownie and eats it bit by bit while scowling at his books.  He also knows that when he’s having a good day with whatever he’s doing he gets a small smile on his face while he types.

It all comes to a head when Stiles goes to the university library to get some information on Aztec rituals and the librarian directs him to the Latin American Studies office where he finds Hottie McBeardie sitting in the small office lobby area with a stack of papers in front of him. 

There’s an awkward moment when Derek looks at Stiles and asks, “Are you stalking me?’

Stiles turns bright red and then says, “No I’m looking for Derek Hale, he’s suppose to be the guy to ask about Aztec rituals.”

Then it’s Derek’s turn to blush because of course hot hipster is here about that and not stalking him. “I’m Derek Hale.”

“Oh, well in that case I’m looking for you, I’m Stiles Stilinski and I need some help,” Stiles says reaching his hand out to shake Derek’s.

Derek accepts it and feels his stomach flutter when they touch before he asks, “What can I help you with?”

Derek gives Stiles all the information he needs and then some and by the end of the conversation he’s pretty sure he’s in love.  They both laugh about the fact that they’ve been working next to each other for months and it took a trip across town to find each other.

“What do you need all this for anyway?”

“It’s for my book,” Stiles says a little sheepishly, cheeks going red.

“Anything I might have heard of?” Derek asks, really wanting to know more about Stiles because he’s 99% sure he’s the one

“Uh, it’s my second book for a series called Out of Time,” Stiles says, running a hand over the back of his head, he didn’t love talking to people about his books, they always had suggestions about the characters and who should end up with who or how he should move the plot forward. 

“I love that book,” Derek says, his eyes soft as he looks at Stiles, “It’s historically accurate and the characters are so well formed. Can you give me a hint at where they go after the Tutor Era? Is it straight to the Aztecs or somewhere else first.”

“I can’t spoil it for you,” Stiles says, then blushes deeply then and gives Derek a smile, “Can I get your number?”

“For more research?” Derek asks, feeling a little hopeful, but at the same time trying to not get his hopes up.

“No, so I can take you out to dinner,” Stiles says with a sly smile and then Derek’s ears turn pink.

“Yeah, sure,” He says, trying to play it cool but he’s sure Stiles can hear his heart pounding. 

They end up going to dinner that night at a local 24 hour diner and talk until 2 am and then Derek takes Stiles to his favorite section of the universes library when they leave. It’s the best first date either of them has ever had and when they run into each other at the coffee show that evening, both looking exhausted but happy, they share a table instead of sitting at separate ones.

And when the book comes out 8 months later (on time thank you very much you can stop riding me Lydia) the dedication reads “For Derek: Who taught me a lot about the Aztecs, but a lot more about love.”

Three years, 2 more time travel books, one completed and published dissertation, and a move across the country for a professorship later, Stiles proposes to Derek in the dedication of his most recent novel, the final in the Out of Time series, and uses a hollowed out copy of his second book to give him the ring.  

Spoiler alert: He says yes. 

anonymous asked:

HEya! can you hit me me up with some engagement ring headcannons for the RFA+v+saeran

A/N: hi cuties!!! Sorry mine isn’t that great but I did have a lot of fun looking for the rings! 10/10 I love them and I want them all ineedasugardaddy ~ Admin 626

i also need said sugar daddy or soMEONE CAN JUST MARRY ME??? HELLO!! WE CAN GO TO THE SPACE STATION BC SPACE IS MY FAVOURITE LEMME TEACH YOU THINGS ~Admin 404

*YOOSUNG:

-Okay did y’all think his wasn’t gonna be game related

-He had to pick a traditional game that the both of you loved playing together!

-You bonded over the different Mario Bros games! (Not to mention you always kicked his ass in Mario Kart)

-And??? Hello??? It’s also a star, that’s literally his trademark

-Thinks it’s really cute! Just like you!

-He also knows that you’re more of a simple person, like he is! That’s why he went with something smaller, and no gemstones

-Nervous wreCK WHAT IF MC DOESN’T LIKE IT

-He picked it for you because it holds more meaning to the bond you two have, not to mention that you’ll always think of him when you see it! That’s better than some huge, shiny rock in his opinion (and he hopes yours as well)

*JUMIN:

-Okay, but princess diamond what else would he get you guys

- doeS THAT NOT LOOKS FANCY AS FUCK COME ON Y’ALL

-He just wants the best for his Kitten, so he had to get something to express how he sees you

-Elegant, bright, ornate, and beautiful

- MC the cost doesn’t matter but yes it was a lot of money

-He has it hand-crafted by the best professionals in the world

-If he has to travel to pick it up, sO BE IT!

-He hopes you’ll love it as much as he loves you, because this is as close as he could get to capturing even a FRACTION of your beauty

*SAEYOUNG:

-He wanted to find one as unique as you are

-So he opted for an opal rather than a diamond

-Not to mention that the opal looks like the moon, to represent the light you bring into the night sky he calls his life

- he’s the type to always be like, “WOAH MC, LOOK AT THAT ROCK! Get it? Cause its a gemstone and they’re rocks lmao”

-He’s honestly very worried that you won’t like it, of course if you don’t, he’ll get you something else!!! Whatever you want!!!!!!

- no, saeyoung, its fucking beautiful pLS

-It’s gonna be a real surprise when he slips and actual ring on your finger instead of one made out of Honey Buddah Chips wrapper when he’s messing around

- its golden like the chips tho MC

*SAERAN:

-ah yes, it’s black like my soul, I…I meaN HIS SOUL, YES, BLACK LIKE HIS SOUL *nervous sweating*

-THE MOST WORRIED OUT OF EVERYONE JESUS CHRIST WHAT IF MC FLAT OUT REJECTS ME OVER THIS RING

-He can’t imagine a huge, overly bright ring on your finger, it’s just….not your style

-An opal though, they change colours depending on how you look at them, and that’s how he sees you- as a colourful person

-Only got one stone placed on it though, because he’s not into the ones that have, like, 7 why does there need to be more than one, one conveys the message just as well

-He got the black band to represent himself, while the bright opal was how he saw you

-You’re the one bright thing in his life, and he wanted to make sure you knew how much he appreciated and valued you

- don’t worry, he actually put thought into this, it wasn’t an impulse EdgelordTM decision

Jaehee:

-This cinnamon roll is really confused about what to get you

-She doesn’t wanna get it wrong!!!

-But her poor bby booty also can’t afford anything too extravagant and she feels so bad

-When she went into the shop, the saleswoman gave her a look that made her feel SO guilty when she told the sales lady the rings had to be under a certain

-But oH MY GOSH SHE SAW THIS RING AND SHE NEEDED IT, SHE’D TAKE EXTRA HOURS

-Yes it was simple, but it was elegant like you <3

-thestoneisroundlikeGaehee’stitties

*ZEN

-Listen…this boy went all out for you

-He found a super expensive, elegant ring because you deserve the best, you’re his princess

-TotallydidntgolookingforoneprettymuchacrossallofKorea

-andhedefinitelydidnotrecruitjumin’shelp10/10didnothappenatall

-Why did he pick one with three stones???

-The big one represents you and the two little ones are supposed to represent your two future children

-He can’t wait to marry you and start a family <3

*V

-Omg of course V’s hipster ass would pick this ring

-Smhhowdidheevenpickouttheringhesblind

-He couldn’t even find the perfect ring for you, he was so stressed poor bby

-thisboyactuallydesignedtheringandhadJuminfindsomeonetomakeit

-Listen,,, this boy loves rose gold (AdminspeakinghereidkifthisisrosegoldbutiwentwithitLMAO) because he thinks it’s pretty like you!!!

-He wanted a ring with leaves on it because his favorite photograph of you is in the fall and you’re smiling up at the trees <3 (hemadeyouposeforitbutstill)

Me & Jack Kerouac

The first time I ever heard the name Jack Kerouac I was fifteen years old and my dad was cracking a joke about my friend James Thiede who wanted to take a bus to California: “you guys want to be Jack Kerouac now huh?” I had never heard the name but man somehow right after hearing that I did want to be Jack Kerouac. Or at least know who he was. The name alone–the rhyme, the funny French vowels in the surname, it just sounds endearing. So I checked out On the Road from the Redford library. It turns out it was the perfect time in my life to come across him, I was going into my junior year of high school that fall which meant that my friends had licenses for the first time (I didn’t get mine until I was seventeen), which then in turn meant everyone was able to really start partaking in the activities high schoolers tend to partake in at night. Just by nature of having cars suddenly the world seemed so open to adventure. In retrospect many of these “adventures” have certainly been romanticized by nostalgia, after all driving around from parking lot to parking lot smoking pot after football games and drinking your parents’ weird liqueurs while listening to Built to Spill in the back of a minivan isn’t exactly Treasure Island, but reading Jack Kerouac made it all feel the more fantastic (in the most literal “of fantasy” sense). Reading Jack Kerouac that fall was the first time in my life my eyes were really opened to how fiction can make the mundane magical, how with just the slightest bit of imaginative perspective the everyday world could be transformed into the sublime. I was sixteen reading this book about this guy riding around with friends getting high and drunk “in the American night” looking for something to give life meaning and purpose and here I was doing the same thing for the first time. And for the first time in my life I saw fiction not as just entertainment or a window into some other world but also as some weird sort of funhouse mirror that could reflect life and refract it back upon itself in ways that made it seem more beautiful, more full of purpose. Reading Jack Kerouac meant that suddenly eating cheeseburgers in the glow of a diner at night could be beatific, and that drinking beer in an apartment while listening to records with friends could have the potential for religious experience.

Of course a lot of this is me being sixteen and having the sort of dopey, romantic feelings sixteen-year-olds have, but those are exactly the sort of feelings Kerouac plays too, he finds what Springsteen referred to as the “waltz between what’s flesh and what’s fantasy.” His perspective was so childlike and wondrous that he saw his life not only as adventure and material for fiction but also as part of this big intertextual tapestry of American history and literature. He sees Steinbeck characters in the faces of lunch cart cooks, sees the rolling land of America as the result of Paul Bunyan’s axe and other folk mythologies. The American landscape is one giant Thomas Hart Benton mural through Kerouac’s eyes. And so when reading Kerouac, I began to do the same as him- projecting the history of American fiction onto my reality- seeing Dean Moriarty and Carlo Marx in the faces of friends I was having my own nocturnal American adventures with.

I know for a lot of people it’s the bebop rhythm of his writing (“glug a slug from the jug”) or the spontaneous prose approach he had borrowed from the modernists and placed in a jazz improvisation context– writing full sized novels in weeks at a time holed up in bathrooms on Benzedrine—but for me it’s less about the form and process and more about his mood and tone. It’s that aforementioned childlike wonder that really gets me with Kerouac, the romance he finds in simple scenes like eating beans and hot dogs over a fire while hopping trains in The Dharma Bums, or finding redemption from his downward spiral into alcoholism through something as kind of simple and naïve as looking at the stars in his backyard at the end of Big Sur (“on soft spring nights I’ll stand in the yard under the stars, something good will come from all things yet, and it will be golden and eternal just like that”). Perhaps the best example is the famous closing passage of On the Road. After following an over three-hundred-page journey that spans several years of traveling coast to coast across America all through his eyes he tracks the camera back to a bird’s eye view of America, and in one giant paragraph-sized sentence he paints the entire country going to bed:

“So in America when the sun goes down and I sit on the old broken-down river pier watching the long, long skies over New Jersey and sense all that raw land that rolls in one unbelievable huge bulge over to the West Coast, and all that road going, and all the people dreaming in the immensity of it, and in Iowa I know by now the children must be crying in the land where they let the children cry, and tonight… the evening star must be drooping and shedding her sparkler dims on the prairie, which is just before the coming of complete night that blesses the earth, darkens all the rivers, cups the peaks and folds the final shore in, and nobody, nobody knows what’s going to happen to anybody besides the forlorn rags of growing old, I think of Dean Moriarty, I even think of Old Dean Moriarty the father we never found, I think of Dean Moriarty.”

He’s also at his best when his writing appeals directly to the senses. Short of Hemingway I don’t think I’ve read anyone who’s better at writing about food, from the apple pie in On the Road (“it was getting better as I got deeper into Iowa, the pie bigger, the ice cream richer”) to the breakfast he cooks for himself in The Railroad Earth:

“and make raisin toast by sitting it on a little wire I’d specially bent to place over the hotplate, the toast crackled up, there, I spread margarine on the still red hot toast and it too would crackle and sink in the golden, among burnt raisins and this was my toast. Then two eggs gently slowly fried in soft margarine in my little skidrow frying pan about half as thick as a dime in fact less, a little piece of tiny tin you could bring on a camp trip—the eggs slowly fluffed in there and swelled from butter steams and I threw garlic salt on them and when they were ready the yellow of them had been slightly filmed with a cooked white at the top from the tin cover I’d put over the frying pan, so now they were ready, and out they came, I spread them out on top of my already prepared potatoes which had been boiled in small pieces and then mixed with the bacon I’d already fried in small pieces, kind of raggedly mashed bacon potatoes, with eggs on top steaming, and on the side lettuce, with peanut nearby on side.”

This is the stuff that I love. It’s so simple. The guy devotes an entire page long paragraph to the breakfast he cooks for himself. That appetite too. You read that and suddenly you’re hungry, he’s great at that type of thing. If Kerouac writes about bowling, suddenly you want to go bowling.

Now I also should say there’s also a lot to Kerouac’s oeuvre that hasn’t exactly held up for me in the last seven years since I first read him, and specifically a lot of what I don’t like is directly connected to what I love so much. There are times for me when his childlike wonder and optimism can drift into the proto-hippy abstract a little too much, times when I wish Jack would kind of see the world through more of a rational, adult point of view. There are also times when this rose-tinted POV and childlike appetite for adventure can cast a shadow on his ethics, such as the myriad number of scenes throughout On the Road when you just want to grab Jack by the collar and beat it into his head that Neal Cassady isn’t a good guy. He has three different wives with children all across the country and here he is still behaving like he’s a kid, manically running back and forth across the country answering to nobody and living solely in search of “kicks”. Not to mention the different times both he and Jack discuss wanting to have sex with high school girls. That stuff pretty obviously can’t be reconciled. And as much as I’d like to section off the Jack Kerouac that I love and admire from the Jack Kerouac that makes me want to gag and regret ever mentioning that he’s a literary hero of mine, that’s just not possible. Those parts are connected.

But while it can be disheartening to see your heroes pale when you revisit them later on, the more critical approach that comes with rereading someone you loved in your youth as an adult I think can actually deepen the meaning of the work and your connection to it. When I first read Kerouac there was an authority that came with it. This was serious literature. The context of mystery and coolness that surrounded the book in my mind when I first found it that summer in high school meant that no matter what was written inside I was going to think it the greatest writing ever. But as I keep rereading it over the years I come at it each time with a more critical eye and I begin to pay attention to the authority of context that comes with reading writers that have been canonized. I start to notice that the Neal Cassady that I thought was so cool as a kid is actually a shitty father who cheats on his wives as well as a child predator. Now I start questioning if the Beats are just some hedonistic, self-righteous hipsters. After all this Neal Cassady is their proclaimed “Hero” and Jack and Allen are both very enchanted by his ethos and show no real signs of critique towards him. But then I remember that they were both also very religious. And quite pious too. Jack claims in the Dharma Bums that he was celibate for a year as part of his Buddhism. The sex, drugs & rock and roll jazz lifestyle they lived wasn’t solely for pure bodily pleasure, it was supposed to be part of a search for experience. “Truth”. I don’t know these days I feel about all of that. It becomes this big chess game of sincerity and authenticity that I don’t like getting into. “Were they doing this because they sincerely believed it or were they doing this to be cool?”
I worry a lot about whether or not I identify with the Beats or not. When I imagine the Beat Generation that’s been portrayed to me over the years through pop culture I see a café filled goatees and berets and people snapping to spoken word poetry over congas. That feels really ridiculous to me. When I think about the real life antecedent for an image like this, like Ginsberg’s famous reading of “Howl” for the first time at the Six Gallery in San Francisco, and Kerouac’s recollection of this night that supposedly spearheaded the “San Francisco Renaissance”, how they passed around jugs of wine and started yelling things like “go!” and “yeah man you’ve got it!” like it’s a jazz club, I’ve got to be honest I kind of roll my eyes.” And I don’t like that I’ve become cynical like that. I hate that it turns into this game of “I really and truly and authentically like and “get” the Beats, you’re just posturing to be cool.” Because that’s how I got into them. I got into the Beats specifically because of this context of supposed cool that I saw around them when my dad first cracked that Kerouac joke and sent me down the rabbit hole that’s led me to right here, right now.

I know that I do love Jack Kerouac’s writing. It’s tender and exciting and it feels like talking to an old friend. It reads best in the late summer and the fall and it’s September now so.

Five years on can we admit a few things about the Marc Webb reboot?

a) It was too soon

b) It was unnecesarry

c) They should’ve just recast and thereby done a soft reboot

d) It was a shite rendition of Peter Parker’s origin and his pre-Spider-Man self (why is he clearly coded as a hipster/obviously altruistic/has the attention of Gwen before he becomes Spider-Man as is supposed to be an ostracized nerd)

e) The retroactive Raimi movies hate was despicable and shallow and the equivalent of saying “Ugh, that colour is soooooo last year!” 

f) Dennis Leary was a shitty Captain Stacy because he was just Dennis Leary

g) Emma Stone was basically playing herself. Which is to say a charming actress to watch but still basically herself, not some groundbreaking performance

h) Emma Stone Gwen wasn’t revolutionary. She did nothing in the movie that Agent Peggy Carter or Pepper Potts, or Black Widow hadn’t done in movies which preceded ASM 2012

i) This movie is one of the single biggest contributors to the unearned bad reputation and bashing Mary Jane gets

j) That parents subplot was literally never interesting

k) That Spider-Man costume is fugly

l) Between the Gwen>MJ wars, the Raimi/Webb, Maguire/Garfield/Holland wars, the morons to shout “NOT ANOTHER ORIGIN STORY!” about the MCU Spider-Man, the lead in to what may well be the most disrespectful Spidey movie ever if the trailers are to be believed, and the “IT SHOULD BE MIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIILES! HE IS MUCH BETTER THAN BORING PETER PARKER!” bullshit, the Spider-Man fandom would’ve been better off if these at best mediocre Spider-Man movies never existed.

The Assignment (H.R. Wells x Reader, Chapter 1/4)

Rating: T

Summary: In order to get back into the good graces of the Master Collectors, colleague Gypsy gives you her mission so you can prove you are as reliable as Collectors come. Little do you know, your assignment is pretty damn charming. And that could be a problem.

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older baudelaire headcanons:

Violet:

- exclusively dates younger partners due to a general mistrust of anyone older than she is

- really gets into camping and rock climbing in her 20′s

- eventually develops a caffeine addiction

- kind of a lowkey doomsday prepper. like she’s always half working on inventions that will be useful in the event the siblings ever have to go off the grid.

Klaus:

- grows a hipster beard

- drinks too much

- always resents lemony snicket’s existance because he used to think he could write a book about his wild time as a teen fugitive but then fuckign snicket came along and wrote 13 books about it like a jerk

- never grows out of being a sarcastic shitlord.

Sunny:

- lesbian

- afraid of heights, really bad. like ‘gets dizzy looking out 3rd story windows’ scared.

- her teeth are just atrocious. all of her incisors are too big for her mouth and her canines are basically fangs. her milk teeth don’t fall out when they’re supposed to so she ends up having double rows for a period of time. dentists fear her.

- ends up being the kind of person who cooks to avoid doing other things. related to that, she is the worst stress eater ever.

- she’s not the tallest sibling, but she’s the largest. older sunny is still the muscle. older sunny can probably lift a small car.

anonymous asked:

Hey do u know any good, long fics that are angsty? Like maybe breakups and they meet again or hate to love something like that. I feel like I've read all the usual recommended ones.

so it’s gonna be a mix between my Angsty fic rec, and the “long fics” one, okay ?

- Photograph by @tvshows-addict and @anhcor(…) An epic love story in which Harry is too in love for his own good, Louis is in denial of his sexuality, and they write songs instead of actually talking to each other. (185k,  canon but not really

- Nobody shines the way you do : Louis pretends to be Harry’s boyfriend to help him win back his douchebag ex-boyfriend, but things don’t go according to plan. (115k, TW about cheating)

- We The Fireworks , by @happilylarreh : It’s the morning after the night before and Louis doesn’t know how on earth he made it home in one piece but he reckons it maybe has something to do with the curly-haired stranger, standing half-naked in his kitchen. The problem is that this mysterious stranger, who has a huge secret and an even huger heart, doesn’t seem to plan on leaving Louis’ life anytime soon and doesn’t seem to be able to get it into his stupidly adorable, curly head that Louis is absolutely, utterly, completely, one hundred percent beyond help. Out of reach. Lost in the night. Or The AU where Louis needs saving and Harry wants to save him but doesn’t want to admit that maybe he needs saving a little bit too.  (103k, TW though, check the tags)

- Hiding Place, by @alivingfire : Louis never wanted a soulmate, didn’t really care for the whole Bonding thing at all, really. Enter Harry Styles, who’s wanted to be Bonded for as long as he could remember. With one fateful meeting in an X Factor bathroom, Louis gets a dagger on his arm and the realization that just because Harry is his soulmate doesn’t mean it’s mutual. From the X Factor house to Madison Square Garden, from the Fountain Studios stage to stadiums across the world, Louis has to learn to love without losing himself completely, because someday his best friend will Bond to someone and replace Louis as the center of his universe. Meanwhile, Harry begins to think that maybe fate doesn’t actually know what it’s doing after all, because his other half has clearly been right in front of him the whole time. All he has to do now is convince Louis to give them a chance. Or, the canon compliant Harry and Louis love story from the very beginning, where the only difference is that the love between them is literally written on their skin, and there’s only so much they can hide. (365k, Canon)

- Flour and Chocolate , by @and-they-call-me-prideful: it was nice, for a bakery he supposed. Then he approached the display cabinet. And the foreboding slammed into him. Because every product had letters next to it. Letters. GF, DF, V, O, VGN. What. The. Fuck? Lifting his eyes to the chalkboard menu spread across the back wall Louis felt physically ill. ‘Gluten-free’, ‘organic’, ‘vegan’, ‘paleo’, ‘dair-…’ Wait, what the fuck was a paleo? He had entered some hipster-trash establishment and it was more than time to get out.  OR Louis is a single dad and Harry works at the newly opened bakery down the street. (145k)

- Love Is A Rebellious Bird , by @100percentsassy and @gloriaandrews : AU in which the boys still make music.  Louis is the concertmaster of the London Symphony Orchestra, Harry is the New! and Exciting! interim conductor/ex-cello prodigy who “has made Mozart cool again” according to Esquire Magazine (Louis hates him immediately, which is definitely why he internet stalked him in his dark bedroom late at night that one time), and Niall is the best.  Zayn and Liam are around too.Don’t hum Bolero. (134k, a big classique!)

- burn to ash , by @bethaboolou: Harry is sitting there, so fucking casual, and Louis realizes in a split second he was not ready. When Harry walked out in Detroit and never looked back, he was a boy verging on a man, still only twenty years old, but there’s a man in his place now. Hard and resolute, yes, but still, for the first time in a long time, Louis can kind of see the old Harry in him. The soft, directness of his gaze, the hesitant smile he gives to Lou, the way he wrings his ridiculously large hands in his lap.He’s a little bit the eager sixteen year old puppy dog again, his innocence and sweetness resurrected miraculously, and Louis freezes in place. He was prepared to face the asshole Harry. He was prepared to meet a whole new Harry. Louis is not prepared to meet one of the old incarnations of Harry, and it absolutely tears him up.Or the fic where Harry spirals out of control, the band breaks up, and then he shows back up, five years later. (116k, future fic)

- Nameless Night , by green_feelings (aka @sadamenoito​ ) : For their 18th birthday, every person receives a letter that reads a simple date. That is the date you’ll meet your soulmate. Harry and Louis have different beliefs, live in different worlds and have different dreams, hopes and fears. Yet, they’re not so different from each other when it comes to love. When their paths cross, there is no doubt they belong together. Except for that one, essential difference: they didn’t receive the same date. Or, a fic about differences that make no difference at all: Harry and Louis are soulmates. In every way possible. Featuring Niall as a role model, and Liam and Zayn as a different kind of role models. (155k)

UPDATE (last update on April 4th 2017)

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History of Japan RolePlay Starters

“Hire a Samurai~♪ “ 

“Japan is an island by the sea filled with volcanoes and it’s BEAUTIFUL~!”

“So now there’s people on the island, they’re basically sort of hanging out in between the mountains.” 

“They’re using the latest technology, like stones and bowls.”

“Ding dong, it’s the outside world and they have technology from the future, like really good metal and crazy rice farms.” 

“But this one was the most, most, important, ruled by a heavenly super-person, or emperor for short.”

“Knock, knock, get the door, it’s religion.” 

“The new prince wants everyone to try this hot new religion from baekje.”

“Please try this religion.” 

“No. Said everybody again, quieter this time.” 

“Can you call us something else other than dipshit?” 

“How about sunrise land~ ♪ “

“And they stole China’s alphabet and wrote a book about themselves.” 

“They conquered the north finally, get that squared away.” 

“A rich hipster name Kukai is bored with modern Buddhism.” 

“The royal palace became such a dream world of art that they really didn’t give a shit about running the country.” 

“How are you supposed to protect your shit from criminals?

“Breaking news, the Mongols have invaded China.” 

“Please respect us or else we might invade you as well.” 

“They tried again and had a nice time fighting with the Japanese but then died in a tornado.” 

“And the emperor can still dress like an emperor if he wants that’s fine.” 

“Now there’s more art~♪ ”

“Everyone voted so hard that the palace caught on fire and burned down.” 

“and the WHOLE country broke into pieces.”

“Knock, knock, it’s Europe. No, they’re not here to take over, they just want to sell some shit like clocks and guns and Jesus~♪“ 

“There was poetry, plays, sexy times, puppet shows, and Dutch studies!” 

“Knock, knock, it’s the United States, with huge boats. With guns. Gunboats.” 

“Stop, no, you can’t take that. We were gonna try and build a railroad through here to try and get some warm water.”

“Can you maybe chill?” 

“How about maybe you chill?” 

“You’ll never guess who is also kind of scared of Russia.” 

“It’s time for world war 1~♪”

“How bout I do, anyway~♪” 

“Their friends and our friends are not friends, plus they’re planning on invading the entire ocean.♪ ” 

pinwheel premonitions

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x Hermione Granger
Prompt: Day 4: Traditions for @dhrfaves

Notes: Modern, non-magical college AU because apparently, I’m trash? Also, it was never a thing I thought I’d ever be into, but HA HA HA we have the best writers ever. [hangs head] Deck me.


Hermione Granger has always lived a highlighter-and-ruler, bullet-point and color-coding life. She’s an excellent record-keeper, has an A+ memory - she’s her own awesome executive assistant, basically; Donna Paulsen would be proud. Anal-retentive has been tossed around both as a pat-on-the-head, condescending endearment (Ron and Harry) and as an insult (everyone else), but, like - so what? 

Summa cum laude takes effort, and like - she enjoys it, to be honest, the proverbial “stick” up her behind. Enjoys the text-book print of her planner, the neatness, the aesthetic. And besides, it’s not like, a disorder or anything, it’s not something that she had to sit across a couch to figure out. And, occasionally, she throws her plans up in the air, so. It’s all well and good, do come off it, Harry

If anything, this passionate attempt to keep to her plans and schedules, this regimented state of being, it helps her keep with tradition - like the pre-game vodka-and-ketchup ritual for the boys, and the spring break pursuit of “protecting ladies from Broodingly Soulful Young Men” drunk-blogging with Fleur, and, for tonight, the anticipated New Year’s Eve pinwheel tournament. 

She’s had it penciled in for months.

Tonight, she’s letting loose. 

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anonymous asked:

Hiii do you know the fic where Harry owns a bakery and I think it's vegan? Or smth like that.. And when louis comes in he's like wtf is this place?? I've been trying to find it but 😌😌😌

Flour and Chocolate 145k

It was nice, for a bakery he supposed.

Then he approached the display cabinet.

And the foreboding slammed into him. Because every product had letters next to it. Letters. GF, DF, V, O, VGN.

What. The. Fuck?

Lifting his eyes to the chalkboard menu spread across the back wall Louis felt physically ill. ‘Gluten-free’, ‘organic’, ‘vegan’, ‘paleo’, ‘dair-…’ Wait, what the fuck was a paleo? He had entered some hipster-trash establishment and it was more than time to get out.

OR Louis is a single dad and Harry works at the newly opened bakery down the street.

the moment when you realize you’re happy

pairing: jimin x reader
word count: 1k 

    → sometimes i just need it to be quiet to tell you i love you and sometimes i need to hear you say it first but i always love you, always, always, always
 


You landed somewhere between the gaps of silver strands when he finally lifted his gaze from his phone, something that was merely supposed to be a quick glance. Your eyes, on the other hand, were very much fixed on your already worn out copy of your favorite Charles Bukowski book – yes, you felt cliché, and with your black coffee from the vending machine, you very much looked like the type of hipster even you would wince at.

The train to Busan was bumping and every time a little splash of a brownish black landed on your book, he’d cringe and watch it soak into the paper in discomfort. You, however, just kept reading. Then Mr. Bukowski must’ve written something good, because you bit into your lip so innocently as you forced the quirk of your lip away. He watched you intently and frowned when you pulled your teeth off your lip to reveal the strip where you’d bitten your skin off. It wasn’t bleeding intensely, but a somehow delicate trail of red now coated your bottom lip and he wondered if he should tell you.

He didn’t tell you – at least not in time, because then your tongue went to soak your dry lips and caught onto it, and your finger went to trace it, and your panicked eyes finally looked up to see if anybody had noticed. Your eyes met then in a muddle of mutual panic. A thick swallow emerged on both parts and he let out a small smirk, yet you strayed and it didn’t take a second before he lost you again, slipping to a world much different than this one.

It was after the millisecond of seeing him that you weren’t able to fully submerge anymore, your bubble seemingly already too burst to conceal you from the outside world. A curiosity bloomed in your fingertips and you started subconsciously tapping the back of the book as you finished your coffee. You tried to steal shy glances of the boy in front of you, only indulging for a second (or maybe two) at a time. He looks intimidating even though you’ve kissed, and you are quite sure he is broader than he is tall. His shoulders are slouched, his hands meeting by his pelvis to hold his phone where his fingers are rather mindlessly scrolling through things he doesn’t seem to care much about. His right thigh is frantically jumping to whatever beat was vibrating through his headphones. A washed out jean jacket and black, ripped jeans cover up the quite clearly muscular body that’s hiding beneath it, and you’re almost tempted to bite into your lip even though it’s already bleeding.

Strawberries. You smell like strawberries – but not the artificial kind that you find in body lotions. You smell like very real, very red, sweet strawberries. It puzzles him a little that you can smell that way. You wonder if your breath smells and if he could possibly smell it from across the coupé.

At last, you shake your head at your own teen-like demeanor and return to your book, yet again failing to escape. You pretended, then. You felt your skin burn in the places he discreetly gave attention with his gaze and small, crooked smirks began peeking from your lips when you’d finally accepted that you both knew.

“Hey, give me attention.” he finally spoke with lifted eyebrows and you swore there was a flush of red across his cheeks.

“What?” you burst almost out of instinct, knowing that you hadn’t even processed his words. “Oh – oh. Yeah.”

You were not yet used to the way his voice got baritone when he realized he loved you, and you wiped your upper lip for any possible sweat.

Dating Jimin was sweet, but it was still very new, and for whatever reason, he didn’t find it particularly weird to take you to Busan over the prolonged weekend. Nothing was too soon for him, it seemed, when he tilted his head to find your eyes and you almost saw the three short words fall from his lips. Only almost, however, because his mouth curves slightly as he pulls back and remembers that, perhaps, you aren’t ready to spill anything of the kind.

It doesn’t take long for you to close your book and look at Jimin with an expecting gaze as you await his next move.

“Did you forget your iPod?” he asks nervously, and you smirk at the innocence that surrounds puppy love. You wonder if he always gets like this when you look at him for too long.

“Why?”

“Oh, you just talked about how you liked listening to music on the train, and you’re not listening to music, so I figured…” he continues and a shy giggle almost escapes your lips.

“It’s okay, I brought the book instead.”

“But reading makes you nauseous, you said so. You shouldn’t be reading just because you forgot your iPod, you could’ve borrowed mine.”

Jimin is innocent and he almost stutters whenever he reaches a consonant.

“No, you looked like you were enjoying the music; I didn’t want to take it away from you.” you assure him and you almost lift your hand to touch his thigh in endearment, but fire flushes through your limbs at the thought and you wiggle yourself stuck to your seat.

“We could just share the headphones. You like NCT, right? I was just listening to their new stuff.” his eyebrows raise innocently, and without intention, he moves to sit next to you, handing you one of the earbuds.

It doesn’t take any words before his thumb firmly presses the ‘play’ button, and it doesn’t take more than a song before you feel courageous enough to rest your head on his shoulder.

It doesn’t even take two songs before you zip the pocket of your jacket so that Jimin doesn’t see the iPod that’s so neatly tucked away. He smiles at you because he saw it before he even asked.

You exhale the moment you realize you’re happy, and the three words could’ve fallen so easily from that moment on.