how are you fair

natsuisbae4life  asked:

"Why in the actual fuck am I dressed in a French maid outfit?"

Oh boy. Jeez. Uhm…. alright. Let’s do this.


“I know you’re mad.”

“No.”

“You’re really mad.”

“I’m not.”

“And I know you probably have some questions.”

“Just one.”

Yui let out a sigh and said, “Go ahead.”

Daichi propped his hands up on his hips and glared at her, “Why in the actual fuck am I dressed in a French maid outfit?”

“I know you’re mad,” Yui said again, lifting her hands defensively.

“I’m not mad,” he argued, swatting at the fabric of his much too short skirt. “I just want answers.”

“Okay, so you know how that street fair is going on right now?”

“Yeah…”

“Well, Boss wants us to have someone walk around, offering samples to the people out there and draw in a crowd to the cafe,” she said. “And so we decided that the person that does it should be the most eye catching out of all of the staff-”

“How the fuck did you come to the conclusion that I should be the one-”

“Honestly it’s the thighs,” Yukie admitted as she walked up and joined the conversation.

Daichi looked down at his thighs with a frown. The thigh high, lace socks they had given him barely fit over his legs and they squeezed his muscles uncomfortably.

“It’s not just the thighs,” Yui gave Yukie a pointed stare. “It’s also because you’re the only man working today.”

“And so of course, the only man should be in the dress,” Daichi said dully.

“Don’t be so bitchy about it, Dai-chan,” Yukie patted him on the chest, paused, and then squeezed his left pectoral.

Daichi slapped her hand away.

“Last time one of us went out advertising, we got groped,” Yui said, crossing her arms over her chest. “Do you want to send us helpless, weak, fragile lambs out there to the wolves?” She batted her eyelashes.

“If you’re a fragile lamb, then I’m Stevie Wonder.”

“It’s fine,” Yukie climbed onto a chair and slipped a frilly headband onto his hair, completing the look. “Just go out there and get attention. Then point them in our direction and we’ll do the rest.”

Daichi sighed and kicked his heel against the floor of the cafe.

“I hate you guys.”

Yukie wiggled, rubbing her fists against her cheeks as she pouted out her lips and whined in a high pitched, mocking voice, “Oooohh boo hoo, I’m Sawamura Daichi and I don’t want to wear a dress in public!”

“You act like I’m being unreasonable,” he snapped. “I think it’s within my rights to be annoyed about having to dress up like a fucking maid in public. I am a man. Damn it. I have self respect. I like sports and hard liquor and… and… cars. I’m a man!”

“Then man the fuck up, get out there, and shake your ass for the customers!” Yukie hopped down from the chair and slapped him on the rear end, sending him stumbling forward slightly.

“Don’t worry about it, Sawamura,” Yui took his arm and led him towards the door, Yukie trailing behind. “It’ll be over before you know it.”

“Yeah,” Yukie grabbed a tray full of cake samples from a table along the way. “All you gotta worry about is bringing in more business than those bastards across the street.”

“Which shouldn’t be hard,” Yui said encouragingly. “There’s no way anyone will be able to resist the appeal of a sexy man in a maid uniform.”

Daichi scrunched his nose.

They dragged him to the front door and then opened it, ushering him out onto the street.

“Here,” Yukie offered the tray and he took it reluctantly. “When you need more, just come back and I’ll fill you up again-”

“You’ve gotta be kidding me!” Yui exclaimed.

The others looked to her.

“What?” Daichi asked, balancing the tray on his hand.

“Look! They stole our idea!” Yui pointed across the street.

Daichi followed her point to the cafe that the girls had deemed their rivals the day it opened six months ago. Standing out front was a beautiful woman with black hair, a shorter woman with blonde hair, and a man.

A man dressed similarly to Daichi, in a mini skirt maid uniform, but with about double the frills of Daichi’s, and black lace thigh highs instead of white. In his pale grey hair was a large black bow, and he also held a tray, upon which were cake samples.

“Cheaters!” Yukie shouted across the street.

The women and man turned in their direction.

“Ugh, they got Sugawara-san to dress up?” Yui groaned. “Not fair!”

“Who?” Daichi stared at the man opposite him as a wide grin stretched across his face and he nudged the woman with the black hair.

“You don’t know Sugawara-san?” Yukie gaped at him. “Oh my god. He’s a total BABE. He’s super nice and cute and makes really good coffee.”

Daichi turned towards her, “You’ve had his coffee?”

Yukie pursed her lips and looked away, “What? I like to drink around…”

“Traitor.”

“Well we’re fucked,” Yui snapped. “Sugawara-san is WAY prettier than Sawamura.”

“But Sawamura has better thighs!” Yukie reached out and groped Daichi’s left thigh.

He swatted her hand away.

“It’s okay,” Yui inhaled deeply and let it out. “It’s fine. Girls will squeal over Sugawara-san’s cuteness, but women will fawn over Sawamura’s sex appeal.”

“And the men?” Daichi asked wearily, watching as the two other women across the street disappeared into their cafe, leaving Sugawara alone on the sidewalk.

“Sugawara-san will win the tachi and Sawamura will win the neko.” Yukie pinched his ass.

“What does that even mean?”

Yukie and Yui exchanged a look.

“Nothing,” they said simultaneously.

“Alright,” Yui patted him on the shoulder. “Go get ‘em, Tachi.”

Yukie giggled and they fled back into the cafe.

Daichi stared across the street at Sugawara, who continued to stare back. He searched for a hint in the man’s body language just what he thought about being forced to participate in such a circus act. He stood tall, one hip cocked to the side, hand propped up on it as he held the tray up on his other. He looked confident and comfortable, much more so than Daichi.

This is going to fuckin’ suck, he thought with a sigh. He lifted a hand in a respectful wave.

Sugawara’s mouth stretched wide in a grin and he shifted sideways, lifting one long, sleek leg up, bending at the knee delicately. He then grabbed the hem of his skirt and lifted it up, flashing a pair of black, lacy underwear and pale thighs.

Daichi’s eyes widened and his cheeks flamed. He steadied the tray with his empty hand when he almost dropped it to the sidewalk.

Sugawara lowered his skirt and dropped his leg once more. He turned and headed down the street, throwing his head back.

Light peals of laughter floated on the breeze and tickled Daichi’s ears.

Fuck, he cleared his throat and turned down the sidewalk in the direction of the street fair. 

It was going to be a long day.

Originally posted by models-in-motion-gifs

fuck you, staff

when i say, “fuck you, staff” theres no playful hyperbole in that statement. its not something thats part of such a “quirky” website that we have this sort of semi-serious dislike for them but they can play along. fuck you staff, seriously. fuck you for letting nazis stay on while, either willfully or through sheer incompetence, which, to be fair, could be 50/50 based on how badly you run the rest of this website, censoring totally benign lgbt content. fuck you, staff. fuck you a lot

Aries: your tears are so hot and your cheeks are flushed, you hide your face in your hands and you cry to all ends. I know you miss them, they made you feel like your heart was beating in your chest. But you were alive long before you knew you were, just as you were loved long before you believe you are.

Taurus: You made a rose garden with them. You each had your own, but yours were real and theirs was plastic. They kept tending them but it missed your loving touch, how could they screw you over? Love I don’t know. The universe isn’t fair; how can it be so cruel to something so precious?

Gemini: You used to talk to me, about politics and poetry. You used to tell me stories, about magic and all things pretty. You always told the story of you and them, you said it was the most beautiful one. The pen could never describe your pain, we’re in vain. Their lack of empathy to blame, you’re killing your brain. Your thoughts are violent and I know you can’t hide it.

Cancer: They said they were scared of you leaving, little did they know about how you wrote poems about their touch. How you stayed up just to talk to them, and complimented them everyday to make them feel like the world. Now you’re just another stripe on their wall, a number. It’s ironic, really. They take all your pieces one by one and then ask you why you’re empty.

Leo: They took your hand and walked with you through nights of blanched white stars and dark blue skies, you never liked boating until they took you on a cruise but they drowned you with the anchor of the ship. Now you’re a castaway on an island, you’re so isolated. What happened to your people spirit, did it go down with the anchor?

Virgo: You trusted them, you never believed in fairytales but goddamnit they were your Prince Charming. I’m so sorry they lied to you, happy endings were a religion to you but they didn’t believe in your God. I’m sorry that tears are your only remedy and everything hurts. I’m sorry that the midnight air burns on the places they’ve touched and that you don’t want to wake up in the morning anymore.

Libra: They were your favorite song, the one you kept on repeat when you were a teen. They were your high school sweetheart, they made you feel alive. They kissed your eyelids and looked at you with adoration, their back pocket held knifes you’d never seen. The silhouette you see in the dark frightens you. And you said “I don’t think people understand brokenness until they experience it, you keep getting stabbed with the broken pieces they made and it’s like a slap of nostalgia.”

Scorpio: You flinched from my touch, hid away in the dark. Little water sign with a shattered heart and atrocious eyes; I’m sorry that your trust has been crumpled like your thousands of papers in the wind. You told me you’d never love or trust anyone again.

Sagittarius: You ran to the edge the world and drowned in seas of sadness, you went over heartbreak hills and lied in beaches with suns burning your face, when you came back you were even more empty than when you left. Your eyes look so much more dull.

Capricorn: There was something enchanting about the way their eyes made your light up and their touch made you smile so broadly, now that they’re gone you’ve gone in a zone of workaholic mode. Anything to keep you busy. Anything to keep you from thinking of them.

Aquarius: You threw away your independence for them, took care of them when they were sick and tangled your hands in their bushy hair. They were your everything, your own world map with compass saying “Go find yourself.” Where are you? You’ve lost yourself.

Pisces: The smoke from weed lingers in your home, your bed hasn’t been made in two weeks. Vodka bottles lie on the floor. You haven’t washed your hair in all of these weeks, you didn’t leave your bad. You listen to their favorite band, I told you to get outside and you said that the only oxygen you had left, abandoned your lungs. They were oxygen, they were toxic.

—  Heartbreak
Kissing, Interrupted.

Originally posted by perfectfeelings

Peter Parker x Reader

Request: Yes

Summary: Peter and the reader are getting pretty steamy and someone decides it’s the perfect time to interrupt. Talk about cockblock, amiright?

Warnings: language, kissing, fluff, Star Wars, makeout sesh (holla). (Let me know if I missed any).

Word Count: 1,479

A/N: For the amazing @literallyrozie812, thanks for the request! I hope this fic gives you guys all the Peter feels. Also, I apologize if it sucks ass lol. I’m not experienced in this part of writing, so bear with me as I slowly dig my way into it! Let’s hope I did at least a 4/10. Thanks for all the never ending support, guys! As always, feedback and constructive criticism is appreciated.


Being raised as a Stark definitely has its perks, but let’s not forget about the downsides.

For instance, not being able to try out the Iron Man suit because of one accidental mistake of you blowing one up. 

Hey, it happens… right?

Or not being able to join the team on missions because it’s “too intense” or “not safe.”

Like, hello? I’m an Avenger? I deserve to participate, Dad.

And don’t even get started on boys.

Oh, lord. If he knew about Peter and you, well, let’s just say Tony’s suit isn’t the only thing that would be blown up.

Keep reading

I want to take you to the movies and i want to pay for your ticket i want to buy a large popcorn for us to share so that i have an excuse to touch your hand and i want to look at you whenever there’s a joke so i can see you laugh and it will warm my heart. i want to stand outside the theatre at midnight while you wait for your dad to come get you and i want to here you talk about the movie i want to see the combined light of the coming soon posters and the moon on your face.

I want to take you to the beach. i want to put up the umbrella while you laugh every time i think it’s in the sand but falls over a few moments later. i want to see you dive headfirst into the water, i want to stand there in awe of your bikini clad confidence while i stand in my oversized t-shirt and shorts. i want to hold your hand as we walk in the surf i want to feel the water hit my ankles, i want to swim out as far as we can go and see who can hold her breath the longest.

i want to rake leaves with you, with our little brothers… i want to listen to you talk about how much you love him, i want to watch your eyes light up, i want to grab your arm and pull us into the giant pile of leaves. i want to collaps laughing beside you as the sun starts to dip below the horizon i want to notice the leaf in your hair and laugh as i brush it away.

I want to take you ice skating, at the rink they set up in the park next to my house. i want to hold your hand because it’s been so long since i’ve worn a pair of skates. i want to fall on my ass and then on my back because i’m laughing so hard, i want you to land next to me. i want to give you my coat and take you home when you get cold. i want to make you hot chocalate and throw marshmallows for you to try and catch in your mouth. i want to cuddle in front of the fire underneath a huge blanket and tell you how cold your hands are.

i want to take you to the fair at the end of summer. i want to win you something at one of those games tables. i want to scream and giggle with you while we ride the zipper i want to swear that i’ll never do that again but know that i’ll be back next year. i want to eat cotton candy while we sit on a bench watching people walk past us. i want to get stuck at the top of the ferris wheel with you, i want to talk about how small everything looks from up here i want to tell you that no matter how high i got i’d still be able to pick you in a crowd.

I want to take you stargazing. I want to climb onto my roof with a blanket and a bottle of wine. I want to listen to the leaves rustling beside us and i want to listen to your wine drunk ramblings about how the stars are so beautiful. i want to show you how even though we are so very small in this universe i couldn’t feel more comfortable and significant lying here with you.

i want to go shopping with you. i  want to find the dress shirt i need in ten minutes but stay in the store for hours because you can’t decide between the hundreds of dresses you see. i want to sit in the chair outside the dressing rooms. i want you to show me every dress, i want to tell you that you look amazing in every single one of them, half because i want to leave this chair but also because you do look amazing in anything you wear.

i want to take you to the school football games. i’ll have to bring my camera i want to end up having just as many photos of you as i do the game. i want to kiss you every time we score, and because that doesn’t happen very often at our school i want to kiss you every time the other team scores. i want to end the night drinking that crappy hot chocolate that’s really just chocolate syrup and boiling water.

i want to meet your parents because they’re so much more accepting than mine who will still think we’re just friends. i want to hold your hand under the dinner table. i want to pretend to be casual and confident when really my heart is racing my stomach is doing backflips and i can’t catch a breath.

i want to hold you in my bed. i’ll be the big spoon because i want to protect you and keep you warm. i want to put my laptopat the foot of my bed so we can watch movies. I want to play with your hair and kiss your neck. i want to feel you breathe against my chest. i want to pile as many blankets as i can find on top of us. i want to let you fall asleep on my chest. i want to stay awake for as long as i can because i want to savour that moment i want to memorize the curve of your body and the smell of your hair and the rythm of your breathing. i want to only sleep when i can no longer hold my eyes open and dream of nothing but you.

i want to take you on cheesy dates and hug you so hard that you forget everything wrong with the world. i want to kiss you so hard you forget to breathe.

but most of all i want you to want me

You’re In Love With Him But He Likes Your Best Friend: Part 2

A/N: This is a filler chapter. Meaning, this is much shorter than part 1. Do not feel dishearted, there will be a longer, more detailed part 3. 

Part 1

Masterlist linked in bio.



“Are you ever going to speak to me?”

Y/n freezes as she hears Harry’s voice ask her the question she’s been dreading to answer.

It’s been two weeks since she’s heard that voice. It may sound rougher now, more stern and harsh than it normally is as it growls behind her at the counter of Lexi’s bar, but it’s still the first time she’s heard it in two weeks.

After her sober confessions to a very tipsy, slumberous Harry, Y/n had to understand what it truly meant to move on.

At first, she thought she would still be able to be around him as she searched for ways to rid her feelings. She distracted herself, mostly. She would interact more with Savannah than she would Harry, and even started picking up new habits whenever she felt her emotions creeping in. Anything that reminded her of him was disregarded entirely so that the only time he was able to consume her thoughts was whenever he was near her.

For the first couple weeks, she was holding up quite well, considering the circumstances. She was able to contain her emotions and take her mind off of the raging heartache that kept burning in her chest.

But it wasn’t much long after that night when Savannah and Harry finally became official, and if Y/n wasn’t anguished before, she surely was then. She was forced to witness the transition of their relationship in hindsight. What was once casual flirting and innocent touches turned into secretive giggles and loving hand gestures.

It was as if her heart broke all over again. What seemed to be almost completely mended was destructed all at once. The chase between Harry and Savannah was over, and reality set in that Harry was happy and in love with someone that wasn’t Y/n.

Watching them together was Y/n’s most devastating nightmare, and the thought of that alone meant she couldn’t mentally handle being alone anymore. With all of the emotions built up inside of her, being alone for Y/n meant enduring the pain and suffering she didn’t want to feel anymore. She just wanted it all to end, everything.

The earliest hours of the morning wrecked her the most. With only the moon illuminating the room and the radio silence throughout her house gave Y/n no choice but to be alone with her thoughts. She wasn’t loved, and no matter how many nights she’s tried to convince herself that this wasn’t the end, it was.

She had to let Harry go, completely this time. She gave up on him entirely because she couldn’t keep loving him when he didn’t love her. Not anymore, not like that.

She keeps her back to him as he heaves heavy breaths, eyes sending daggers and teeth clenched from his crippling frustration. 

“It’s Thursday, I see,” Harry grumbles before giving her the chance to answer, jaw locked as his fingers grip harshly around a stray, unfinished glass of alcohol. “You never work Thursdays. ’S this where your Friday shifts went?”

There’s an unpleasantly rough tone in his voice that makes Y/n’s breath hitch in her throat. She’s never witnessed this side of him, filled with anger and exasperation. He’s always been so soft and gentle, never having the heart to speak down to someone. But here he is, eyes dark with anger and words spewing venomously from his lips.

And as much she hates to admit it, she can’t blame him for being so angry with her. She knows she means the most to him—even if it’s not in a romantic sense—she’s become such an important part of his life. Ever since they met, she took in the truth about his past, understood the feelings and thoughts he’s carried all through his years, and was able to provide him with anything she was able to when he needed her most. She was one of the very few people he trusted and felt most comfortable with in his life. She was irreplaceable, he’d always tell her, nobody could compare to her. She meant everything.

And then, she left him. She distanced herself so far away from him until it was as if she was never apart of his life. She ignored him and all his attempts to reach out to her again. It hurt her tremendously, knowing that what they had together was completely and utterly helpless, but she never questioned how Harry felt about it. She did what was easiest for her and never thought about it twice. She left him so that he can be happy, but as he stands so tensely and confused before her, she can’t help but blame herself what’s happened between them.

She nods her head softly, still refusing to look up at him as she gathers all the used glasses in front of her, making herself seem distracted so she doesn’t have to make much effort into speaking to him.

“I—uh, yeah. Friday nights were getting hectic and I couldn’t keep up with the late hours. I thought Savannah told you.”

It’s a lie. A shitty, impulsive lie that Harry almost finds humorous. Of course, Y/n switched her Friday night shift. She felt as if she had no choice. She couldn’t bare to look at him with Savannah another goddamn second, and he thought of spending Friday nights with Harry without being alone with him and going to the 24-hour movie theater together was enough to make her sick to her stomach.

“She did,” he clicks his tongue, eyes narrowing as he watches her scramble around the bar, “didn’t have to, though. I knew she was lying.”

Y/n’s actions halt for a moment, a feeling of dread flowing in her veins before she goes back to cleaning off the bar, disregarded his statement completely.

Harry knows Y/n’s been avoiding him, she hasn’t exactly made it as subtle as she thought. Their entire friendship changed, and Harry knows he wasn’t the one ruining it.

The morning after Y/n drove Harry back from the bar, all he could really remember clearly was falling asleep with Y/n. There were other bits he remembered, but that was really the only moment that came to him when he woke up. And he was confused when he woke up alone because, in all honesty, he was looking forward to waking up next to her. It was all his drunk mind thought of, and that terrified him.

When Y/n started distancing herself from him, Harry kept wondering what he had done wrong. She was fine with Savannah, keeping up with their lives as usual. But she was different with Harry—closed off, in a way, and it made him feel something he’s never felt in his life before.

He was confused, to say the least. Because when he was kissing down the bare chest of the woman of his dreams, he couldn’t stop daydreaming about Y/n, and how he hasn’t heard her voice and how he hasn’t felt her in so long.

He had Savannah wrapped around his finger, yet he still felt as if everything about it was wrong. He changed when Y/n left him, because even when he was around the most loving company, he felt alone.

He was helpless. As much as he tried to love Savannah, Y/n was always in the back of his head. She was there, all the time, trapped in his mind with no escape route. 

At first, he was confused—upset and lost without Y/n. He didn’t know life without her would feel so lonely, so empty and incomplete. It was strange, not knowing how to live his life without her. He’d never expected her disappearance to be such a hindrance to him, but it was. Oh, how it was.

Then, he was angry—angry because as many times as he tried to get her to speak to him again, she never came back. She was gone, forever.

Now, he’s hurt. So damaged by her leaving his side, so incomplete and destroyed without her with him anymore. His heart is heavy with sadness and he couldn’t let himself feel this way anymore. 

He needs her, no matter how wrong and pathetic it sounds, he needs her. 

“So you gonna tell me why you’ve been avoiding me, or am I gonna have to force it out of you?” he seethes, nose flaring as he tries to steady his uneven breath.

Y/n shakes her head ignorantly, a flash on innocence in her eyes as she does so. But she damn knows well what he’s talking about, and her oblivion drives him crazy.

“I don’t—I don’t know what you’re talking ab—“

“Oh, fuck off with it!” Harry spits, slamming his closed fist down on the wooden counter.

He doesn’t seem to care about how sudden the bar falls silent, or the glisten of fear in Y/n’s eyes when she finally looks up at him. All he can seem to care about is how much pain he feels, all over. All he can think about is how now, after the last two weeks of not being able to understand why he cares so goddamn much, he’s finally able to feel some sense of sanity being in front of her now.

“You know what you’re doing to me, Y/n! You know damn fucking well what you’re fucking doing and—“

“Harry, please.” Y/n whispers and she isn’t sure as to whether or not she’s begging him to lower his voice or begging for him to understand.

“And it’s not fair!” he cries out, tears of frustration overflowing from his eyes as he grips tightly onto his hair.

His breaking point is approaching, he feels it. He feels it with every breath he takes and every word that emits from his mouth. His heart twists and breaks as he expresses every feeling that’s been consuming him for the past two weeks. He needs her to know what she’s doing to him, needs her to know how he feels in this moment.

“I did nothing to you and you keep pushing me away and that’s not fair because I don’t know how to live without you. Isn’t that something?! I don’t know what to do without you, and you know that!”

Suddenly, his head falls in his hands as he begins to sob. Complete heart-wrenching sobs, making his chest tight and breathing shallow.

Y/n reaches her hand out for him, her fingers clasping harshly around his wrist. Her own eyes start to brim with tears as she watches him sob below her, his body shaking with undying cries. She swallows harshly when he grabs ahold of her hand, bringing her palm against his forehead. His lips reach to kiss her wrist softly, quickly refraining from keeping them there longer.

To touch her, for the first time, is every answer he needs. She’s the only one to make him feel this way—she’s the only one to drive him to the brink of insanity and resurface him back to clarity. She has power over him he never understood until now, after he’s lost her.

“I don’t know why it hurts this much, Y/n,” He cries, his eyes squeezing shut as he inhales sharply, “I’ve never been more confused in my life.”

She chokes on her cries as she nods her head softly, her free hand reaching up to rake her fingers through his hair. Her lips shake from their craving to touch him, watching as he weakens beneath her. 

She’s missed him, in the most desperate of ways. She’s missed every part of him, and every atom in her body yearned to feel him again. Whether it was to feel the warmth of him from a distance or to feel his skin ignite her, she wanted every part of him against her. If she wasn’t with him, she was missing him, and craving him with every breath she took. 

Her lips press tentatively to his forehead, her breath fanning through his hair as she does so. The action is quick, leaving just as quickly as it comes, but it carries sentimental meaning for the both of them.

Harry frowns, his heart thumping in his chest. He looks up into her eyes, filled with concern and sanity as she maps his features.

“It’s been ever since me and Savannah got together.” He mumbles, eyes watching her face as it pales slightly at his words. “You haven’t spoken to me since.”

Her eyes flutter shut as he speaks, finding it completely pointless to try and make him believe otherwise. He deserves to know, one way or another, and even if it’s now, she feels like she’s already lost him. There isn’t much she’d be losing now, anyways. He was never hers.

“Please leave, Harry.” She whispers.

She backs away from him, her touch leaving him was like a gunshot to his chest. It’s a feeling he’s felt all too much that he can’t bare to feel again. 

His heart breaks as he watches her begin to cry, her usual glistening eyes now filled with tears of sorrow. He shakes his head, squeezing his eyes shut as he tentatively takes a step closer to her.

He’s desperate, and he doesn’t care how weak he seems. He’s desperate to see where he’s missed it all along, to know how long he’s been making her feel this way. He’ll never forgive himself for all the pain he’s caused her, for all her nights alone when all she wanted was to be with him.

He could have done so much to change this. If he had just listened to his heart from the beginning, this would all be different now. If he hadn’t been so blind, they would both be happy right now.

“Love, I—“

“Don’t.” she whispers, her voice cracking as she speaks, “Please, don’t.“

She isn’t exactly sure what she’s saying—isn’t quite sure what she’s begging him not to do. Maybe it’s the nickname he’s always called her that makes her stomach twist a bit more, or how he’s trying to make her feel better that makes her eyes sting with a fresh new wave of tears, or how he looks at her now the way he never did before that makes her throat tighten around a sob. Whatever it is that makes her beg, she can’t  handle it anymore.

“I’m trying, Y/n,” He whispers, “please.”

“Please just—“ her eyes flutter shut as she speaks, “just leave me alone.”

Harry lets out an unsteady breath, his green eyes brimmed with red as he watches her begin to sob. 

He nods, because he can’t let himself keep doing this to her. If he keeps trying with her in her current state of mind, she won’t be able to think properly. She’ll be a wreck, more so than she is now, and he can’t find it in his heart to do that. Even if it means fighting for her.

“It’s not worth it, you know.” He whispers, his eyes staring lovingly into hers, “Being with her, it’s not worth it if it means losing you.”

Dating Peter Parker Would Include.....

Homecoming spoilers. Pin for later when you’ve watched the film. :) I repeat, spoilers. SPOILERS.

  • Being his best friend, aside from Ned, of course.
  • Living just across the hall. It was actually how you two met back in the day when he used to visit Aunt May and Uncle Ben.
  • Struggling and mourning the loss of Uncle Ben, because let’s face it, you adored those two with all your heart. (They used to babysit you whenever your parents needed a last minute babysitter)
  • Rubbing the fact that Aunt May loves you more (even though she loves you two the same) in Peter’s face.
  • Enduring all of Aunt May’s larb jokes whenever you join them for Thai.
  • “I larb you, Peter. And I larb you too, [Y/N]
  • “Okay, Aunt May…..enough.” 
  • “What? You don’t larb me? Am I too lame to be larbed? Too cool to larb your awesome aunt? Not enough larb to go around to your good ole aunt? Saved all your larb for you one true larb, [Y/N]? Huh? Hm?”  
  • “Uh….we larb you too?” 
  • “Thank you, [Y/N]. At least someone larbs me.” 
  • Being completely supportive of Peter getting an internship with Tony Stark. 
  • Offering to help him with his internship.
  • Getting slightly offended that he doesn’t want help.
  • “Am I not smart enough to help you?” 
  • “What? God, no. It’s not that…..it’s um….I just have to do this on my own, that’s all. You know, no help. Strictly myself….” 
  • Competing against him with academic scores. 
  • Being extremely competitive with each other when it came to exams.
  • Going back and forth on having the highest grade.
  • Talking about going to the most prestige college and then changing your minds because you two could never leave Aunt May. 
  • Putting up with Ned being needy. 
  • “Ned….this is a date….between two people.” 
  • “Oh cool, I love pizza. I’ll just sit down right here and take a slice.” 
  • “Ned….” 
  • “Yeah, so anyway, you two should come over and help me build my lego deathstar. It’s legit.” 
  • Bickering with Ned, constantly. (But, loving him just as much as Peter)
  • Getting along great with Michelle. 
  • Roasting Peter and Ned into oblivion with her. 
  • Like full on roasts. It’s fantastic how long you and Michelle can go. 
  • I mean, it’s almost not fair how hard you go. 
  • But, in the end, Peter loves you and is sort of relieved that you get along with the people in his life. 
  • Movie marathons.
  • Cuddles for days.
  • Like the kind of cuddles that make you all warm and fuzzy inside.
  • You know, the ones where you just sigh happily in his arms and think that Disney World ain’t got shit on being the happiest place on earth. 
  • Netflixin’ and chillin’, (if you know what I mean, wink-wink) Forgive me, I forget that’s he’s fifteen. No sir, keep that in your pants now, you little rascal. And you? Don’t be puttin’ out, miss. 
  • Geeking out over Star-Wars, Lord of the Rings, Harry Potter, etc.
  • Going to Comic-Cons and dressing up.
  • Building and experimenting to the point where Aunt May and your parents scold you two for almost blowing up the complex.
  • Although, it’s not like you actually could blow up a building to that magnitude. 
  • And after the fire department threatened to arrest you two, you put an end to experimenting. 
  • Peter making you a playlist on your ipod. 
  • Listening to it all the time because you just love the songs he chose. 
  • No seriously, this playlist makes your heart stop with every song.
  • Peter always getting you your favorite muffin for breakfast before school.
  • He’ll even leave it at your front door in a cute little handwritten paper bag if he’s sick for the day.
  • Always being told he loves you.
  • Because, you’re the best thing that ever happened to him. 
  • You being embarrassed when he tells random strangers that he loves you. 
  • Like, you’ll be walking down the street and he’ll look at the old lady walking her yorkie, “Excuse me, m’am. But, I just want you to know how much I love this girl right here.” 
  • Peter.” 
  • Then flagging down a taxi to tell the driver too. “Hey, yeah no, I don’t need a ride. Just wanna tell you that I love my girlfriend.” 
  • Peter even telling Happy who always responds with, “Can’t wait for the day she leaves you.” 
  • Him keeping his double-agent life a secret.
  • Because he doesn’t want you to get hurt. 
  • Constantly wondering why Peter’s free time is slowly diminishing. Because you can’t quite believe the internship was that demanding.
  • Worrying that Peter was going to break up with you. 
  • Peter finding out about your worries through Michelle. (Who threatened to skin him alive should he ever hurt you.)
  • Taking a night off from his “internship” to take you out.
  • “Peter….we’ve been on the train forever.”
  • “Have a little bit of patience, [Y/N].” 
  • “Where are we going? Does Aunt May know you’re out right now? How much longer? Is this going to be forever? Are we running away from our problems? Running from being millennials and trying to fit in with society? I didn’t pack anything. How are we going to survive the outside world?” 
  • Peter intentionally ignoring your million questions by putting his headphone in one ear and other in yours. 
  • Playing your favorite song to keep you quiet.
  • Realizing he’s taking you to Central Park. 
  • Almost on the verge of tears when you find out that he organized a candlelit picnic under the stars. 
  • Seeing Ned in the distance as he walks away and knowing that he had a hand in it.
  • Smiling and feeling secure that Peter is here to stay.
  • Getting a weird feeling that he’s still hiding something.
  • Unsure of how to go about asking him what he’s hiding because you don’t want to cross a line.
  • Michelle not caring and confronting him before coming back to you and confirming that he is hiding something because of the way he acted.
  • Feeling uneasy but forcing yourself to believe that Peter would tell you everything and anything because you two were on the same level and understanding about your relationship.
  • Using the Washington D.C. trip to curve your mind from it.
  • It failing when Peter decides to re-join the decathlon team. 
  • Forcing yourself to ignore the gut feeling that Peter is hiding something when you asked him why he decided to re-join.
  • Peter being completely oblivious to your uneasiness.
  • Pushing it to the back of your brain when Liz scolds you for not having your head in the game.
  • But it coming back when Peter doesn’t show up for the decathlon. 
  • Corning Ned and demanding where Peter is and why he isn’t answer his phone. 
  • Getting irritated when Ned stumbles over his words. 
  • Becoming so upset that you tell Ned to tell Peter that he better have an explanation or else they would be over. 
  • Visiting the monument with everyone with the exception of Peter (obviously) and Michelle who passed on the tour. 
  • Ignoring Ned when he tries to talk to you.
  • Liz concerned that you were upset and asks if you want to talk about it.
  • About to confide in her when the elevator of the Monument starts to malfunction.
  • Peter freaking the hell out when Michelle screams, “My friends are up there!”
  • Panicking and pleading Karen to help him find a way to save you and everyone else.
  • Trying to stay calm even though your heart is about to flip out of your chest.
  •  Getting mad all over again because you were going to die pissed off at your boyfriend. 
  • Spider Man saving you just in the nick of time. 
  • Being so traumatized over the ordeal and Peter not being there, you lash out on him when he finally decides to make an appearance. 
  • Michelle shaking her head, “You messed up, dude.” 
  • “[Y/N], wait! Please, I can explain.” 
  • “Explain? Explain?! I’m going to need a whole encyclopedia of an explanation, Peter. Can you give me that?
  • Ned trying to diffuse the situation. 
  • Getting even more pissed off and breaking up with Peter.
  • Michelle whistling (because she didn’t see it coming), “Man, that’s rough. You gonna be okay? Actually? I don’t care. Bye.” Running after you to make sure you were going to be okay. 
  • Ignoring all of Peter’s texts and phone calls.
  • Having your parents stop Peter from coming into the apartment even though they felt you were being silly. (They adored Peter)
  • Sitting in your room with a pint of your favorite ice cream while watching stupid rom-com films. 
  • Crying when the guy gets the girl.
  • But telling yourself, you’re better than that and that you don’t need Peter.
  • Crying again because you need Peter. 
  • Hearing a knock on your bedroom door and getting mad because you just know your parents let him in. 
  • Yanking open the door to find a worried Aunt May.
  • “May? What’s wrong?” 
  • Her coming into your room, “I know you and Peter are fighting right now but have you heard from him?”
  • “No, I haven’t. I actually haven’t received any texts or calls from him today….” 
  • “Where is he? He’s been gone all day. I’m freaking out, [Y/N]. I’ve called every precinct and coroners office.” 
  • Being speechless because it is very unlike Peter to not check with Aunt May. 
  • Her on the verge of tears, “I can’t loose him too.” 
  • Grabbing your jacket and your phone, hugging Aunt May tight and telling her you’re going to find him. 
  • Spending hours before finding him sulking in hello kitty pajama pants and an awful touristy tshirt. 
  • Awkward tension as you text Aunt May and telling her you found him and that he was on his way up.
  • Knowing that there was something wrong but not wanting to engage because you were still mad at him
  • Eventually breaking because you still love him.
  • “I lost the internship with Tony Stark……” 
  • “I’m so sorry, Peter. I know how much that meant to you.” 
  • “Yeah…..” 
  • Letting him go. 
  • Regretting not hugging him or comforting him. 
  • Going back to your apartment to sulk and eat another pint of ice cream. 
  • Turning on the television to torture yourself with more rom-com’s. 
  • Witnessing Spider Man and Iron-Man save a bunch of people on a ferry.
  • Dropping your spoon and ice cream as it hits you. 
  • Running into your room to grab your journal. (you wrote daily)
  • Comparing the dates and times of when Spider Man was spotted and whenever Peter claimed he had the “internship”.
  • Finding a consistent pattern. 
  • It dawning on you that Peter Parker is Spider Man. 
  • “Holy shit.” 
  • “That little shit!” 
  • Running out of your apartment and across the hall.
  • Banging on the door. 
  • Aunt May answering with a concerned look.
  • Ignoring her and pushing past her to go straight into Peter’s room.
  • Busting in and then closing the door behind you. 
  • Marching straight up to his startled, adorable, puffy eyed self. 
  • Punching him in the arm and then covering his mouth when he lets out a yelp.
  • “You’re Spiderman?! Spiderman? Seriously? That’s what the internship with Tony Stark was about? What the hell, dude.” 
  • Peter being completely in shock that you found out. 
  • Standing there in complete silence for almost half and hour. 
  • Him finally explaining how it happened. 
  • Understanding why he didn’t want to tell you but still a little salty about it. 
  • “So…..are we okay now?” 
  • “……..” 
  • “[Y/N]?” 
  • “……..”
  • Baby.” 
  • “Fine. We’re okay but don’t you ever keep secrets from me ever again.” 
  • Everything going back to normal. 
  • Him showing you all his nifty tricks.
  • Feeling bad that he got his suit taken away. 
  • Trying to make him feel better by telling him he doesn’t need the suit. 
  • Ned being ecstatic that you know. 
  • Because now he can finally talk about it with someone other than Peter. 
  • Ned not shutting up about it. 
  • Peter showing you a different view of the city.
  • Planning romantic dinners on roof tops. 
  • Or well, kind of romantic.
  • It’s mainly subs and sodas.
  • But it’s the thought that counts, alright.
  • Making you promise that you will run away whenever something bad happens. 
  • Vowing that he will never let anyone hurt you for as long as he lives because aside from Aunt May, you are the most important person in his life and he does what he does to protect you. 

Fuck. I didn’t think I’d get this many people requesting to be tagged. This literally took me forever…..


@tryn25 @dailygubler @monsis-world @ucchan71 @igirl7plus-sky @adrianapoynter @lilspacefreckles @autumn-blessings @crazyfreckledginger  @iamaholland  @heyjaemin @ricvallerie @jor-da-na @beanie-boy-jones-iii @fandoms-enthusiast @actual–hobbit @unabashedlyswimmingtimemachine @im-a-screwedup-mess @narwhal-t-sharon @jennytorres7510 @multifandomtreasure @laurencacce @ouxiwen @al1forever @italianwarcry @herbeautifuldarkness @endergirlz224 @jjgirl4797 @fadingpoetryobservation @bananananananananapeel @lenanullings-x @crystalsinwater @iamabromieomie1234 @itzprincessss @momcanupickmeup @thesupercameraguy @quackson-clackson @queenvoiid @fandomobsessedcrazyfangirl @aimeepeeps @senpaipineapple @rubyeun @lotuseatermura @stranded-moonchild @snape-vape @visi0n-aries @boredashellokay @waywardtrashfam @dylansoneverland @akc-12 @stopthatslytherin @fantasticallyobsessedwithbeasts @teenageheartbreakersus @deathofthethrones @emilychatterbox @brokutooo @arielseviltwinsister @21skelotonpilots @sunny-day15 @quokkatrash @natalia-is-a-penguin @darkminds-collide @starspangledmadds @t-xy @biancalled @maybe-one-day-someday @captainaudreystark @weehawkendawngunsdrawnyouron @mcoolicann @shenanigans-and-broken-hearts @britishfancyturtlebraindead @mentamaree @fourtayl688 @cubitorx @dibs-on-pony @meamandaobrien @needs–a–life @1022bridgetp @toulose @papichulosebs @nich98-blog @letsalinathings-blog @lucyneedsmoremakeup @half-bloodbitch @plzimjustanegg @sweet-nightingale-171 @classiccandian @mayahart02 @sailrs @just-in-case-iloveyou @tomfeltonisbae @ringo-starr-is-a-star @5s0sssss-pizza @nickycookie @the-girl-on-the-mirror 

Fixing things around the Haus was never really about the dibs for Dex. But, all the same, in the back of his mind he was still relying on his efforts in that department to secure him housing for his junior year at Samwell.

Which is why he’s a little surprised at himself for the sinking feeling in his gut when he’s officially offered a spot.

“Oh,” he replies dumbly.

Lardo blinks at him, clearly startled by his lack of enthusiasm, her hand still held out between them waiting for him to reach out and seal the deal.

Dex shakes his head and reaches his own hand out belatedly. Only to have Lardo pull back. “Bro. I’m not gonna give it to you if you don’t really want it.”

“No, no, I do! I promise I do. I’m sorry, I just thought…”

He thought that he’d be getting either Ransom or Holster’s dibs. And that Nursey would be getting the other’s. And, despite the fact that Dex has been dreading the very idea of that for the entire school year, he feels off kilter and lost now trying to imagine a scenario in which he lives at the Haus without Nursey constantly underfoot.

Even these past two years of living in the dorms, Nursey still always somehow manages to end up at the Haus whenever Dex does, stealing the last slice of pie while verbally needling at sore spots he knows well enough will get a rise out of his fellow D-man.

It seemed pointless to even hope that getting dibs wouldn’t somehow include Nursey at his side, and so Dex never bothered to factor in the possibility. He resigned himself to his fate. And now, presented with an alternative, he has no idea what to think.

“Do you, uh,” he clears his throat, watching Lardo’s eyes narrow at him, assessing. “Do you know who Rans and Holster are giving theirs to?”

“They’re giving them to Nursey, bro.”

“Right. But to Nursey and…?

“Just Nursey.” She shrugs. “Those bunkbeds don’t even have a ladder anymore, so we figured we’d turn the attic back into a single for now. And we thought we’d do you all a solid by making sure the SMH didn’t lose it’s next best D-man pair due to mutual homicide within the first week of preseason by making you shack up together. We’ve all seen how you two handle sharing a hotel room on roadies.”

To be fair, how they handle it nowadays is wildly different from the roughhousing mess of their first semester at Samwell. But apparently no one’s noticed that.

Dex goes abruptly still as a thought occurs to him that feels like a bucket of ice water over his head. “Wait. Was this Nurse’s idea?”

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Young Viktor Nikiforov dressed like a Disney Channel main character and you can’t tell me otherwise.

There were pastels and patterns and so many layers? Sometimes Yakov got migraines just from looking at him???

Viktor kept a lot of those clothes even after he developed a more masculine and mature aesthetic and sometimes Yuri P shows up unnanounced and throws himself into the back of Yuuri and Viktor’s closet.

“Would you like a cup of tea, Yura?” Yuuri asks, leaning around the corner.

“No,” Yuri snaps. “What do you think of this?” He’s wearing a peasant top and jean vest tucked into a tulle skirt.

“Is it a pretty day or a handsome day?”

Yuri frowns down at his shoe choices and says, “Pretty.”

“Very pretty, then.”

Yuuri isn’t sure what Yuri was dressing up for, because he appears to spend the rest of the day lounging around, viciously pummeling Viktor at video games. He only stops insulting Viktor briefly, for about fifteen minutes, as Viktor puts an intricate braid into his hair and mumbles about choreography through the bobby pins in his mouth.

“Why don’t you just give him all your old clothes?” Yuuri mumbles after Yura leaves.

“I’ve tried,” Viktor says, shrugging. “He won’t take them. I think he wants to have a reason to come over here and be told he looks pretty. He’s a teenager. He needs reassurance.”

Yuuri nods slowly. “Does he know that he doesn’t need an excuse to come over here and be told he’s pretty?”

“He’s sixteen, Yuuri. Do you know how uncool that would be?“

“Fair enough.”

Summer Camp

Pairing: Y/N and Harry

Word Count: 4800

Prompt: 

“I’m sorry.”

“For what? Not helping me with the table or being a dick to me the last month?” Y/N snaps, grabbing a fist full of his shirt.

Harry presses his lips in a line, he’s trying his hardest not to laugh. Y/N didn’t seem like the type to swear and she looked cute when she got mad. Her nose would flare in anger and she would let out an annoyed sigh. Her hand moved from his shirt to his arm and she gripped it tightly (and Harry felt like maybe, just maybe, it was supposed to hurt him).

“You’re cute when you’re mad,” Harry chuckles.

“And you’re cute when you’re not a fucking asshole,” Y/N retorts.

Harry laughs, his grip on her tighten slightly as he lets out a huge and loud laugh, “oi! What was that for?” he asks when he feels a sting on his arm.

“For being mean to me the last month, what did I do?” Y/N asks.

“Yeh did nothing,” Harry says, and he feels Y/N’s hand smack his arm again, “okay-fuck, you’re strong for such a little thing,” he grumbles, “I heard you talking about me to the rest, laughing, saying you would never date me-oi! That’s the last one you get, next one, I leave you here and you can hop all the way up the path on your own.”

or 

Harry works at a summer camp where he really hates kids and people, but Y/N is an exception.


Harry hated people.

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