how this friendship works

signs you’re pulling your own weight in a healthy close peer relationship: things to strive for

you know and like them

You know what’s really important to the other person, their hopes and goals and pet peeves and preferences and fears, and you consciously integrate this knowledge into how you interact with them.

You’re curious about their thoughts and opinions. You’re aware they have a rich inner life and you get excited to find out what they think and how they feel about things, even things that have nothing to do with you. You ask questions and you truly listen to and try to understand the answers.

You seek out opportunities to share experiences with them. You want to be around them and you want to understand why they love the things they love. You want to welcome them into enjoying new things you think they’d like based on your knowledge of them and their preferences.

When they don’t like something you like and vice versa, it isn’t threatening, because you both respect each other and there are other things you can do together. 

you are emotionally available

You pay attention to the kindnesses they show you, and you show appreciation when they listen to you vent or are patient with your foibles or remember your favourite things or make your life brighter in any way.

You make an effort to show these same little kindnesses to them. You often ask about and try to keep track of what they like. You make tiny gestures all the time just to make them happy, and you don’t keep score of them in hopes of getting something you want.

You are honest and considerate with them. When you’re upset about something else you don’t blame it on them or start a fight just to fight. When you need to bring a problem to their attention you do it in a loving way. You don’t make promises you don’t intend to keep and you don’t pretend you feel anything you don’t feel.

You work hard to understand yourself and what’s important to you, what you want and what you feel and why you feel the way you do. Even if you aren’t totally sure what you’re really feeling yet, you try to share yourself with the other person. You’re willing to be vulnerable and let them see your fears and your flaws and your complicated feelings about things.

you actively respect them as your equal

You respect them as a person. There are things you admire about them and you find some of their ‘flaws’ endearing and it’s okay that there are things about them you don’t like because they’re a whole complicated person and you appreciate them for the whole package of who they are. You don’t secretly think you’re better than them. You don’t see them as disposible or fungible or a means to an end.

You respect them as the authority on their life/experiences and acknowledge that however well you know them, there are complexities to them you’ll never fully grasp. You never assume that you’re done getting to know them or that you could make their choices better.

You believe them when they tell you how they feel. You don’t ever try to convince them their feelings are wrong even if those real feelings are in response to a misunderstanding or have a context you don’t fully understand.

You’re comfortable letting them take the lead as often as you do, and you’re willing to compromise on things that affect both of you because their opinions are just as important and well-reasoned as your own. You acknowledge their capacity to know things you don’t or have good ideas you didn’t think of.

you do relational work

You talk to each other when either of you feels relationship problems arising, even if you don’t fully understand them yet, and you work together as a team to keep each other feeling safe and respected and listened to. You work to be patient and supportive and to not take it personally when other things are bothering them.

You apologize, freely and without expecting them to force themselves to heal faster to make you feel better. Your apologies are about letting them know you understand and respect and care about their hurt and that you are choosing not to hurt them in that way again. You don’t have hidden agendas.

When there are choices to be made that affect both of you, you talk them through together and decide together. You don’t expect them to do all the planning work, and you don’t make choices that affect them without their input.

you respect their time and effort and don’t act entitled

You understand you aren’t the only thing they have going on. You give them space to have other interests and friends and you appreciate your time together without making them feel obligated to pay attention to you 24/7. You also make time for them while maintaining your own interests and other relationships.

You make an effort to seek out other sources of emotional support and connection so that you are not relying on this person to meet all your emotional needs.

You don’t expect them to do personal work for you that you’re capable of doing, and if they do such work, you intentionally do similar work for them, work that needs to be done just as often and requires just as much time/effort, because you care about them and don’t want to burden them with extra work.

If they wash the dishes you use, you wash the floors they walk on. If they do the grocery shopping, you the cooking. You don’t ever take it for granted that it’s their job to do personal maintenance work (chores, home care, body care, appointment planning, kinship work) for you without reciprocation. If you are capable of meeting your own basic needs but haven’t bothered to learn to do that work or why it’s important, you seek out resources on your own to learn.

If you genuinely are not capable of doing your own basic self/home maintenance due to disability etc., you don’t assume they will automatically take over that work from now on because of your relationship. You have frank and honest discussions about your needs and their capabilities/limitations/interest wrt helping out.

you actively prioritize their happiness

You make sure they know you appreciate their nos. Every no reassures you that their yeses really mean yes, and you check in all the time to find out what they want and don’t want, because it’s so important to you that they don’t just grin and bear it.

You want them to be happy. You are willing to be deeply inconvenienced without them knowing about it if it will make them happier. You routinely spend time thinking about their feelings and how your words and actions will impact them. If you think they’re unhappy because of you, you want to know why because you are genuinely willing to put hard work into making them happy.

If they’re unhappy because you’re incompatible in a fundamental way, you’d rather give up your relationship with them than let them stay miserable because of it.

In a happy and healthy relationship, everyone involved ticks every one of these boxes.

i talked to him on a wednesday. he sighed on my bed. i was skyping my sister, who was trying to teach me how to knit. i told him i needed to go to bed early, i had a test in the morning. he said he had things to discuss and i’m a patient person so i listened.

this is, i learn, how our “friendship” works. hours of my life become his sanctuary. he texts me constantly. his problems fill up every space in my planner. often he demands my attention rather than asking. i feel bad, because i’m the type to feel bad, so i listen. i offer advice that goes ignored, i sit in contemplative silence even though i should be studying, i nod my head and support him. 

he doesn’t notice i start drinking wine as soon as he shows up. a few times i make the mistake of trying to bring my own problems up. they are always overshadowed by his own, or else i am given an odd supply of uncomfortable comments. “i don’t feel good lately” is met with “a girl as pretty as you isn’t supposed to feel sad.” i say “i don’t like my writing recently” and he spends forty seconds saying i’m beautiful and intelligent and a perfect girlfriend before saying “unlike me, i’m awful” and before i know it, i’m comforting him again. we don’t have real conversations. once, as an experiment, i spend two hours completely silent, just to see if he’ll notice. he doesn’t. 

once he bursts into my room while i’m scheduling my week. he’s taken aback by how much i’m doing. “you look so busy!” he says, “where’s all the time you’re planning on spending with me?” he doesn’t ask about any of my other activities. he knows nothing about my life except that i’m good at listening. i feel myself under a rolling pin. he flattens me out to use me. he punishes me if i don’t give him attention - all i hear is how he is useless without me, how he’s barely holding on, how he doesn’t know what he’d do if one day i was gone. he doesn’t know my middle name. he misses my birthday.

it’s wednesday again. i’ve been drinking. he took some of my wine without asking. he lounges on my couch with his arm casually around me. my actual friends know i don’t like touching. i asked him to move but he just laughed and said “you’re so funny.” he’s too heavy for me to move physically so i just let him lay there, complaining. i stare into space, thinking about the news i got that day. about how my life has changed.

he looks up to me. “can i ask you a personal question?”  

i don’t say “that would be a first,” because my mother raised me to respond politely. i tell him go ahead, as always, i’m listening.

“why do girls like you date jerks?” he asks me.

i stare at him, uncomprehending. he is a runaway train, his mouth still moving. “I just mean,” he says, “you’re all always going after the worst guys like you don’t even see people like me. like i’m always being friend-zoned, even you did it, and you’re one of the only people who is nice to me. but girls like you never say yes to boys like me.”

i don’t know what he’s saying. i’m dating a girl, and he would know that, if he knew anything about me; a clever and talented girl who means everything to me. 

he sighs and sits back when i’m not immediate in responding. “this,” he says, “is what i mean.” looks up with puppy dog eyes at me, “i mean could you ever date someone as awful as me? am i just a friend? am i doomed to be nothing more than the friend to pretty girls?”

we aren’t friends. we aren’t friends. we aren’t friends. 

he moves the topic before i can reply, back to his problems. i text my girlfriend, “men are animals” and she sends me back a poem about how much she loves me. he tries to kiss me when he leaves, and when i duck out of it, i later get sixteen texts on how scared i am of sex. his facebook posts are all about how women don’t know how to find the right men. how we’re blind to the good things. how we don’t see fate when it’s happening. 

he says, “i wrote you something.”

it’s a poem about him.

10

veronica mars + weevil

“You know, I always knew you had a thing for me but I never thought you wanted me for my brain.”

how is it that everyone’s best friend is an asshole?? statistically speaking, there should be some best friends out there who are not huge jerks

I want every classmate to be best friends with every single other classmate… brotp?? brot3?? Forget that, gimme the brot15 with every single kid in this class please

So I finally went through omgeverythingplease and here are things that I didn’t know
  • Bitty is OBSESSED with food. OBSESSED.
  • Boy has a *problem*
  • Like I know we like to headcanon that Bitty goes into some sort of media, but he’s more likely to become a food critic. Basically he’s more into the “baking” part of “baking vlog” than the “vlog” part.
  • Holster is a grumpy messy bitch.
  • For real, the team seriously debated who was grumpier: Jack or Holster
  • (for like, a hot second, before the answer became obvious)
  • (It’s Jack. Jack is the grumpiest)
  • Ransom and Bitty are very close friends. Close enough that Bitty chirps Holster that he’s being replaced via tweet.
  • Ransom and Bitty get PSLs from “ ‘Bucks”.
  • That is a quote. Eric Richard Bittle has called Starbucks, ‘Bucks.
  • (I bet he calls Target, Tar-zhay too)
  • This one was a bit more analytical: we found out about Jack coaching peewee via Bitty’s twitter
  • Bitty is the one who tells us that the Jack says the kids call him “Coach Z”
  • Because Bitty is the one who typed out the tweet, if the kids called Jack “Coach Zed”, he would have spelled out “Zed.”
  • Therefore we can assume that the kids called Jack “Coach Zee” and not “Coach Zed”
  • However this revelation by Jack was immediately followed by a debate over Zee vs. Zed. So who really knows?
  • I still don’t know how either of them pronounces “pecan”
  • More after the cut because this is getting long

Keep reading

An excerpt from this fic I’m hoping I’ll finish by the end of this week, because otherwise it’s back to uni, and it’ll be another fifteen years before I touch it again:

He’s just about to do them both the favour of ending this very awkward Skype call when Yuri lets out a soft gasp, and says, “Is that your cat?” 

“What?” Otabek asks, and turns to see the calico cat that’s so fond of trespassing into his apartment perching on his bedside table. He blinks at the cat a little, and then turns back to Yuri, who is beaming at him, clearly excited to see the cat. “Yeah,” he fucking lies. “Yeah, that’s definitely my cat.”

ETA: The fic is done now! You can find it here!

My favorite otayuri headcanon is Yuri “Has Zero Chill and Also Doesn’t Know How Friendship Works” Plisetsky believing every coupley thing he and Otabek do is “ because they’re friends.”

Like, Otabek’s like, why are you putting another straw in my smoothie and Yuri’s like YOU WON’T DRINK OUT OF THE SAME CUP AS ME AT THE SAME TIME? AND YOU CALL YOURSELF MY FRIEND??

Otayuri are holding hands. “Why wouldn’t I hold his hand when he’s my friend??”

Yuri sitting on Otabek’s lap in first class. Flight attendant is like um, we’re in turbulence, you need to return to your seat. “WE HAVE TO WATCH THE MOVIE TOGETHER BECAUSE WE’RE FRIENDS.”

I’m talking like, the two of them could be sharing a one-bedroom apartment, sleeping in the same bed every night, and Yuri would still think it’s “because he has a friend.”

And Otabek thinks it’s so cute that he doesn’t even point it out until they’re like, engaged or something

Midnight Memories // The Color Of My World Part Two [A Stiles Stilinski Soulmate AU]

Series: Part One 

Relationships: Stiles Stilinski x Reader/Stiles Stilinski x OFC/Theo Raeken x Reader/Theo Raeken x OFC

Warnings: Making Out, A Smug Stiles Stilinski Talking About Sex, Swearing, Physical and Verbal Violence, Abusive Relationship, AND REALLY FUCKING ADORABLE STILES STILINSKI SERIOUSLY HE IS SUCH A CUTIE YOU’LL FALL IN LOVE WITH HIM ALL OVER AGAIN.

Word Count: 6,168  

Song: Kid In Love by Shawn Mendes (The lyrics are so spot on it’s actually kind of terrifying)

A/N: Thank you so much for loving part one y’all. Here’s part two that also ends with another cliffhanger because I’m addicted to making you guys go crazy lol

“Oh, shit.” Stiles gasped, letting go of me as I stood on my own.

The room remained full of life and color even though he was no longer touching me. My skin, however, felt lost without Stiles. His touch left a lingering burn in my body and I was already craving it again. I longed for someone I just met and, for some reason, it felt right.

“W-We’re-” I stuttered, my mind completely overwhelmed with what we just discovered.

“Soulmates.” He finished my sentence, his warm colored eyes piercing into mine.

Stiles Stilinski, the boy my boyfriend secretly despises, is my soulmate. It’s funny just how sadistic the universe really is.

Keep reading

Whipped…boyfriend!!! (PT4)




Y/N likes to think everything had gone back to normal after that dreadful morning. Harry hasn’t touched the subject, and he seems to be doing fine. She likes to think everything is okay, maybe he was just having an unpleasant day and there’s no point at even asking about it and upsetting him all over again. But she can’t erase the image of his body racking with sobs, eyes pleading and repentant. 

She wants to be able to get past it, but her mind keeps going back to how she’d cried silently while he was in the shower. How every minute that passed, sat alone on his couch, all she could think about was that there was a possibility that when Harry came out, he would tell her that he couldn’t anymore. He’d break her heart with words of ‘still wanna be your friend. We can still be best friends, like we were b'fo’.’ But it wouldn’t be like before.

She wants her mind to forget his gasps of ’m'sorry, love. M'so so sorry.’ But it’s like they’re forever etched into her brain. And every time she looks at his sleeping body next to her in the morning, it’s all she hears, those words.

So no, everything is back to normal in terms of appearances, but she’s been having an inner battle with herself that hasn’t let her sleep at night.

It’s been about two months or so since Harry’s breakdown. They’ve kept to their daily routine; breakfast, work, the occasional surprise lunches, and dinner among other things; but they don’t talk about it. And it’s like when she tries, Harry diverts the conversation to how thrilled he is to start Dunkirk promo, and of course Y/N can’t press the subject when Harry’s got a wide smile on his face, happy to recount and retell moments on set.

And though she still couldn’t forget about it, she’d enjoyed breaking routine, especially for the beautiful scenery that was a wedding in Hawaii. Harry had been a ray of sunshine. He had introduced Y/N to the few amounts of people that hadn’t met her yet. Some of them were interested enough to ask how Harry, a lad who didn’t often engage in proper relationships, had managed to pull such a beautiful lass. Y/N admits she’d gone a light shade of red at the comment, never one to confidently accept compliments, and Harry just wouldn’t shut up about her after that. Not until Y/N playfully slapped his arm after he’d brought up how she’d made him think she was going out with some other bloke, blatantly lying to him to his face.

He’d played about with a sweet little girl who’d taken a liking to him, boop'ing her nose and faking having tripped over something when she was chasing him, letting her tag him only for her to end up trapped in his arms. And she loved seeing him so content.

She loved the short stories everyone had to tell about a too drunk Harry who cuddled anyone from a friend, to a plant he thought was a friend. 

She can’t deny that she’d loved that he was showing her off too. Especially when his friends would make a comment about how whipped he was, which only made him smile wider as he kissed her hand (and she’d squirmed and giggled because his stubble did tickle some). 

It’s safe to say that by the end of that trip, everyone and anyone who’d watched Harry mindlessly kiss Y/N’s temple, arm slung around her shoulder whilst talking with his friends, were convinced they were it for each other. 

She had never really attended a wedding with him before either. And she realised that there was something about getting to see him in that setting that had her wanting exactly that for them one day.

So one can only imagine Y/N’s excitement when Pixie’s invitation arrived. She’d jumped at the idea of going to Spain, and being Y/N, Harry couldn’t deny her that. 

And now here they are. Watching the sun set over beautiful waters; rays of orange and yellow and blue adorning the sky. 

It doesn’t take much to convince Harry for a picture. All she really had to is smile at him and he was putty in her hands.

“Say cheese.”

“Wanna look sexy." 

"Harry! Just, show me those pearly whites." 

"Jus’ take the picture, love.” He’s adamant. 

“Harry.” Her tone monotonous, a hand at her hip like it as she glared at him, a smile playing at her lips.

“Wanna look cool, babe.” He chuckles.

She rolls her eyes, huffing jokingly and holding the phone up horizontally.

And though he’s not exactly smiling, Y/N can’t think of a better way it could’ve come out. 

***

Today is nothing short of a fairy tale for Y/N. Her arms around Harry’s necks. And Harry’s hands on her waist, swaying to none other than “Song Bird.” He takes to whispering the lyrics to her ear, and he can feel Y/N’s smile widen when she buries her head in his neck. 

Harry likes to think he’s a good dancer, even though he tries to abstain from any. But with Y/N, it’s different. He’d only halfheartedly tugged his hand back from hers when she’d tried to pull him up and off his seat, smile much too sweet to actually deny her of a slow dance. And although usually he has to have some amount of alcohol in his system to confidently show any of his moves off on the dance floor, Y/N has him spinning her around gracefully.

When the song nears the end, Harry gives her waist a squeeze before pulling away and taking her face in his hands, firmly pressing his lips to hers in hopes he could convey and express every ounce of love he was for her in that small gesture.

“Ye’ look beautiful, pet,” he whispers, lips grazing hers, pouting just the slightest for them to meet in a chaste kiss, “always look beautiful.”

“You’re too much,” she giggles, fingers wrapped around his wrists.

Harry can only press another kiss to her mouth, too drunk on love to care about anyone watching. 

***

Harry and Y/N are sat back at their table now. He’d groped at her hip and plopped her on his lap after the ninth song when Y/N began to complain about her feet hurting from walking around all day in heels. He’d moved her hair to fall over her shoulder and kissed across her back and at the exposed flesh of her neck. They stay like that for a while until he pats the side of her thigh, at which point she moves to her own seat. Silently, he gestures for her to lift her legs, and then grabs her ankles and brings her feet to lay on top of his lap. One by one he unstraps and slips off her heals and proceeds to dig his thumbs into the dip of her foot, alternating between the two. And Y/N can’t help but look at how her boyfriend’s brows furrow in concentration, the tip of his tongue peeking out from the corner of his lips as he works to ease the tension in the muscles. She hums at the touch, Harry smiling in accomplishment, and squeals when he starts tickling. 

“Went from a whipped friend to a whipped boyfriend! S'a step up Harold!” Grimmy pats his friend’s back, a lopsided smirk with a clear intent to insult plastered in his face.

And it’s certainly not helping that he’s helping her strap her heels back on. But again, he doesn’t mind being whipped.

It wasn’t the first time tonite that he’d made the remark either. He’d made it a game actually. The first was while they were conversing with Lou. Grimmy had cheekily strolled past them with a smirk and whisper of ‘whipped’. The second, Y/N was at the fruit bar helping herself to a plate, and Harry kept feeding bits into her mouth as she went about picking what she wanted. He’d offered to take her plate back to the table while she reached for the cutlery, and though Grimmy might have not meant for her to hear it, she still caught the faint ‘whipped’ directed at Harry. The third had been the most embarrassing, at least for her. They had been chatting to an elderly couple, the husband retelling of a vacation he’d surprised his wife with only to find out that cruises weren’t her cup of tea when she wouldn’t come out of their suite bathroom because even though it was smooth sailing, her tummy just couldn’t handle it. At one point Harry had perfunctorily brought up their intertwined hands and pecked at Y/N’s knuckles. Grimmy had, yet again, silently walked up behind them and sing-songed ‘whi-hipped’, at which point Y/N swung her arm around, overestimating her aim, and socked him where she thought would have been his shoulder but was really his neck. Harry had doubled over in laughter at that. Even the wife whose eyes had gone wide couldn’t hold back. After that, Grimmy didn’t bother him any, only playfully shot her a glare when their eyes met.

“Nice t’ see ye’ too, ass.”

Despite his comment, Grimmy leans down to press a kiss to Y/N’s cheek. “I’ll take tha’ as an invitation t'sit down with m'favourite couple." 

"Grimmy’s just jealous he’s got no one to rub their feet." Was it childish that Y/N stuck her tongue out at him? Maybe so, but that’s how their friendship works.

"Oh no sweets. Even if I did m'not touching anyone’s stinky feet.” Dry humour’s always been Grimmy’s specialty.

“Ye’ really are a catch mate,” Harry jabs, taking a swig from his water bottle. 

Grimmy narrows his eyes, “s'tha’ the same outfit ye’ were wearing not even two weeks ago, 'arry?”

“Heyyyy!” Y/N chimes, scolding Grimmy with the sternest face she could pull, “s'my favourite suit of his.”

“Yeh, s'her favourite suit of mine,” Harry mocks. And they all laugh.

After that, any intention Y/N had of staying sober went out the window the second Grimmy came up with the brilliant idea of a game where they’d have to take a shot every time George kissed Pixie. 

You’d think she’d turn it down after the last time she’d gotten sloshed and the fact she’d vowed to take it easy when she did decide to drink. But Grimmy had called her a ninny because ‘s’okay if ye’ can’t handle ye’ liquor, babe.’ And even if she couldn’t, which she thinks they both know he’ll probably end up the winner, she’s certainly not gonna give him the satisfaction of not even trying.

But now, looking back at it, 6 shots in and already feeling it, Y/N really should’ve known better, should’ve thought before hastily agreeing. Of course the bride and the groom are expected to share kisses various times throughout the night at their wedding party. And it was so like Grimmy to demand they kiss every ten minutes, Harry laughing and nodding his head in amusement, or disapproval, Y/N’s not entirely sure at this point.

But she does have to admit she’s having a grand time dancing to “The Time of My Life.” Harry dancing circles around her with his arms up, mouthing along and shoulder shrugging to the beat, an immense smile on his perfect face. She throws her head back in amusement, laughing lively. 

She secretly thanks the heavens that Harry isn’t partaking in any drinking, choosing to stick to water, allowing her to use him as leverage whenever she begins to stumble. 

“Okay, think she’s had enough, Grim,” the comment comes when Grimmy tries to hand Y/N another drink, only for Harry to take it himself and set it at the edge of the round table, away from Y/N who’s got her head on his shoulder and is beginning to fully lean into him from exhaustion. 

“Oh, poo, you’re no fun.” He sticks his tongue out at his sober friend before excusing himself when it’s announced that it’s time for cake.

“Feeling a'right, pet?” His thumb rubs circles on her palm where their hands clasp atop his thigh. 

“Hmm.” Her hooded eyes open a tad slighter when she feels his lips press a kiss to her head before pressing his cheek against her hair. "Yeah. Need to use the bathroom though." 

"C'mon, then.” He takes her hand into his, careful in helping her up, his free hand at the small of her back to steady her.

“M'fine, babe.” She smoothes out the wrinkles on the skirt of her dress and grabs her purse from the table. 

“Ye’ sure? Don’ mind going with ye’." 

"I’ll be fine.” And the giggle emitting from her mouth when she pecks at his exposed chest can’t be any more endearing. He watches her walk past tables of guests, a breath of relief to see she’s good on her feet despite the amount of alcohol she’s consumed.

He sits back down, singlehandedly undoing another button on his shirt as he brings his arm to rest on the back of the chair Y/N was just sitting on. 

And then…

Harry never thought he’d be seeing her face again. It took him a while to control his paranoia, his hyperactive mind conjuring up what he thought to be every possible scenario in which Y/N finds out about what he did. But not this one. 

It catches him completely off guard, his body stiffening at the sight. What throws him off even more is when she spots him and begins making her way to him.

The closer she gets, the farther he wants to get away. 

“Didn’t think I’d be seeing you again.” Her voice sends shivers down his spine. She’s looking at him with…desire? It’s all unappealing if he’s being honest. It feels like she’s trying to lure him in, the way her eyebrow is raised, eyes a bit squinty as she struts closer. He’s making it clear he’s uncomfortable, and if she realizes this, she doesn’t show it, and it doesn’t halt her either.

How was he to know she was a childhood friend of the groom? He’d never seen her at gatherings before that unfaithful night, but in retrospect, he too is guilty of going an endless amount of time without talking to his childhood friends. Harry thinks this is the universe’s way of punishing him for not coming clean. 

His brows furrow in concern. Y/N will be back any second and he’s sure she’ll ask who this woman standing before him is. And it could go one of two ways. 

Harry can introduce her as a friend, but that’d be betraying Y/N on a whole other level. Introducing the woman he slept with to his girlfriend. But he can’t do that. He won’t.

Or. Or what if this woman has the audacity to bring it up. What if Y/N finds out in the worst way possible. 

His hands are sweating in his pockets, body tense. 

“Left so early that morning. Didn’t even stay for breakfast.” The smug look on her face has Harry’s tummy twisting, and he really wants to slap her hand away the second her fingers make contact with the fabric of his suit, fingers running over at the lapel.

And he should stop her right there, but his throat is dry and he’s afraid the second he opens it to add how much of a mistake it was and that he has a girlfriend, is the moment Y/N over hears the conversation.

“You’re a good fuck, you know. Best I’ve ever had." 

He knows she’s trying to get a response out of him, anything that might assure her that he’d had a good time too. 

But he’s not able to get anything out when he notices her stare trail behind him.

"Harry.” Her voice just above a whisper, the sound of heels clicking against the ground growing closer.

No. No no no no. 

au where tony, despite being more of a cat person, has a dog, and steve, despite being more of a dog person, has a cat and their pets end up being friends and getting into trouble w/ the neighbors together and this is how they meet

2

@x-i-l-verify asked for:

“Lili growing some flowers (maybe with a bouquet that holds symbolic value)”

…I was totally unoriginal and went with lilies. They really do suit her! X’D Meanwhile Raz gets a flower crown/mess loool in hindsight I realize Lili probably wouldn’t pick a ton of flowers but I thought the idea was cute so…!

First time drawing her, and I’m so happy to say that Lili is super easy to draw!