i had this is my drafts i guess i might as well post it

look at me - i will never pass for a perfect bride

so i know i already made a retold mulan post but i just LOVE MULAN SO MUCH so here’s another

in the original myth mulan isn’t really a clumsy fish out of water. she’s strong and smart and the reason she goes to war is because she’s the most qualified person in her family to fight, regardless of gender.

so how about this: mulan’s a fighter. she knows exactly who she is, like in the original myth, she’s knows how to be the blossoming flower and the great stone dragon. she’s still mulan though, so she still doesn’t memorize the silly ways she’s supposed to be a good wife and has little patience for appearing graceful while pouring tea. she’s innovative and courageous and beautiful, but no one is under any illusions about what kind of wife she’ll be.

and the matchmaker is the matchmaker for the li family as well, for this great big part of china. and general li wants his son to be married before he goes off to war, wants his son to have a reason to fight to live, like a wife waiting for him. and the matchmaker reads the stars and the tea leaves and the astrology charts, and no matter what all the signs point to one thing: the honorable li shang is destined to marry the insolent, arrogant fa mulan.

the matchmaker isn’t going to let that happen, she refuses to be responsible for that disaster of a wedding. so she sends her most beautiful girls, the ones that are obedient and quiet and know their roles, the ones that are eager to marry into the li family.

and each of them are entertained and met and sent back. shang is many things, but smooth isn’t one of them, he has nothing to say to these quiet girls who smile at him, feels large and awkward around their polite smiles. so he and his father go to the matchmaker’s village, shang reluctantly and his father to demand she stops messing with them and provides a proper bride.

it’s on the day that mulan and the other girls are parading in the street. shang sees a girl - mulan - hurry into the end of the line, jumping over a bench and darting around a careening wagon to get there, and stifles a laugh.

then there’s no reason to laugh at all, because a group of huns have decided that this village is in their way, and attack.

everyone scatters, women hide, children hide, and most of the men do too. shang and his father join the fight with some of the other men who hadn’t hid, and these men are starved, clearly not with shan yu, so even though they’re outnumbered they’ll likely win.

shang sees a hun go to attack the girl he’d seen earlier, the girl for whatever reason hadn’t run and hid. the hun raises a sword above his head to strike her down, and shang is so sure he’s about to see this pretty girl lose her head.

but she doesn’t. instead she rolls out of the way, and pops up, headbutting him in the stomach. she takes his sword from his now-slack grip and plunges it into his chest. without hesitation or pause the girl joins the fight, swinging the sword expertly and cutting down every man who stands against her. soon they’re fighting back to back, and shang has never felt more in sync with another person. she cuts off the head of the last hun, and shang has never seen anyone more beautiful than this girl, dress ripped and make up smudged and covered in blood that isn’t hers.

“mulan,” one of the other girls says, peaking out of a store front, “is it over?”

the girl, mulan, looks out over the dozen dead men and says, grimly, “it’s barely begun.” she searches the crowd, finding and old man and yelling, “gather the bodies, we’ll burn that at dusk outside of the village. everyone else,” her eyes sweep across the gathered people, and shang is struck by the fact that this girl isn’t well liked. there’s anger and disapproval in many of the faces, but they’re listening. these people don’t like her. but they do trust her. “let’s clean this all up. these were bandits, not soldiers. there’s nothing more to fear.”

“what if there are more?” the other girl asks, arms wrapped around herself.

mulan raises her stolen sword and says, “then i will slice them to ribbons. this is our village, and this is our country. any who would try to take it from us - from me - will suffer the consequences.”

and it shouldn’t be comforting, hearing words of violence from this young girl, yet everyone around them relaxes, and gets moving, gather the bodies and tending the wounded.

“who are you?” his father asks, and someone who doesn’t know him might think he was angry, but shang can tell he’s impressed.

mulan turns to them and bows, “my apologies. i am fa mulan, daughter of fa zhou. thank you for helping us.” she stands, and shang meets her eyes for the first time.

he swallows, and blurts out, “you - you fight good.”

his father coughs to hide his laughter, but mulan’s eyes crinkle at the corners. “thank you. you do as well.”

and they just keep standing there smiling at each other until his father claps his hands and is like okay - they’ll have to report this to the emperor, no time to dawdle, have to go now.

so they take their leave, and shang thinks this is the last time he’ll see fa mulan.

except there’s still the draft, and this time mulan doesn’t take no for an answer, won’t hear of it. her father is injured and old and she is young and fit to fight. she will go in his place.

so she arrives at the camp, prepared to pretend and lie - except she goes to meet her commanding officer and it’s him, that boy who had fought with her. shang’s eyes widen, but they’re in front of too many people. he can see it on her face, her fear, and she hadn’t shown any fear when she was facing down over a dozen huns, but she does now. so he makes his choice and says nothing, pretends he buys her story.

she tracks him down that night and demands an explanation. he says this war is too important to kill good warriors, whatever gender they are. he swears to keep her secret. mulan is his best soldier from the beginning, and means to treat her like anyone else, but it’s impossible. she isn’t like anyone else, is strong and smarter and braver than them. they argue tactics, and she’s the only one who can give him a workout in hand to hand, and he doesn’t have trouble finding his words with her. he finds himself falling in love with her, but doesn’t say anything. she’s not here for love, she’s here for a war. he vows to say something if they survive this, but it’s unlikely that will happen.

they head to the front earlier. they get there in time to provide back up for his father and his army, and it’s a loss but not a slaughter. his father is too distracted to notice ping is the girl from the village. all he knows is this soldier had led the second wave of attacks, and it was thanks to her any of them were alive at all. they prevent half of the huns from getting through the pass, but that’s still an army heading for the imperial city. the general is injured, so mulan and shang lead the army after him.

they find him at the mountain, and just like before mulan uses the cannon to destroy the army. she knew it would spell their death, but it was worth it, for her people, for her country, for her family. this time it’s shang that won’t accept her death, that tries to drag her unconscious body to safety. only he fails, and mulan becomes buried under the snow.

they return to the city, and shang is besides himself - the woman he loves is dead, she saved them all and she’s gone, and he’ll never recover from this. only he can’t tell his father this, their friends. they think he mourns a friend, not the woman he wanted to make his wife.

except mulan survives, and sees the other huns as well. only she kills them there before they can get to the city, and decides this is for the best. fa ping dies honorably in battle, and fa mulan is free to return home to her family.

so general li decides that it’s time to go to that matchmaker again, and demand she stop playing games. the matchmaker confesses that she thought the bride was unsuitable, and the general demands she send her anyway.

so mulan has barely had the chance to settle back home when the matchmaker shows up at her door saying she’s sending her to see a potential husband, but not who. so mulan shows up all made up to li household and shang drags himself into the room, already resigned to a loveless marriage, when they see each other. “mulan?” he demands, and his father is all pleased because it’s the fighting girl from the village.

but then his son starts crying and they run to each other. shang picks her up in his arms and she clings to him, and shang is babbling about how he thought she was dead, and mulan is so overjoyed that she’s with shang, and shang wants her, that she kisses him without explaining.

except now shang’s father demands an explanation. so they give it to him, the whole story comes tumbling out, and he stares hard at her, and remembers her as ping, the brave soldier that had saved them all. he’s not upset - he ecstatic. he goes to the emperor and tells him everything, and the emperor officially offers mulan an officer position in the army. she accepts, as long as shang is by her side. shang seconds this, and they set in motion the plans for the wedding.

fa mulan and li shang get married and lead armies and live happily ever after, just like the stars intended.


read more of my retold fairytales here

Drafting: The Theory of Shitty First Drafts

Writing books often exhort you to “write a shitty first draft,” but I always resisted this advice. After all,

  1. I was already writing shitty drafts, even when I tried to write good ones. Why go out of my way to make them shittier?
  2. A shitty first draft just kicks the can down the road, doesn’t it? Sooner or later, I’d have to write a good draft—why put it off?
  3. If I wrote without judging what I wrote, how would I make any creative choices at all?
  4. That first draft inevitably obscured my original vision, so I wanted it to be at least slightly good.
  5. Writing something shitty meant I was shitty.

So for years, I kept writing careful, cramped, painstaking first drafts—when I managed to write at all. At last, writing became so joyless, so draining, so agonizing for me that I got desperate: I either needed to quit writing altogether or give the shitty-first-draft thing a try.

Turns out everything I believed about drafting was wrong.

For the last six months, I’ve written all my first drafts in full-on don’t-give-a-fuck mode. Here’s what I’ve learned so far:

“Shitty first draft” is a misnomer

A rough draft isn’t just a shitty story, any more than a painter’s preparatory sketch is just a shitty painting. Like a sketch, a draft is its own kind of thing: not a lesser version of the finished story, but a guide for making the finished story.

Once I started thinking of my rough drafts as preparatory sketches, I stopped fretting over how “bad” they were. Is a sketch “bad”? And actually, a rough draft can be beautiful the same way a sketch is beautiful: it has its own messy energy.

Don’t try to do everything at once

People who make complex things need to solve one kind of problem before they can solve others. A painter might need to work out where the big shapes go before they can paint the details. A writer might need to decide what two people are saying to each other before they can describe the light in the room or what those people are doing with their hands.

I’d always embraced this principle up to a point. In the early stages, I’d speculate and daydream and make messy notes. But that freedom would end as soon as I started drafting. When you write a scene, I thought, you have to start with the first word and write the rest in order. Then it dawned on me: nobody would ever see this! I could write the dialogue first and the action later; or the action first and the dialogue later; or some dialogue and action first and then interior monologue later; or I could write the whole thing like I was explaining the plot to my friend over the phone. The draft was just one very long, very detailed note to myself. Not a story, but a preparatory sketch for a story. Why not do it in whatever weird order made sense to me?

Get all your thoughts onto the page

Here’s how I used to write: I’d sit there staring at the screen and I’d think of something—then judge it, reject it, and reach for something else, which I’d most likely reject as well—all without ever fully knowing what those things were. And once you start rejecting thoughts, it’s hard to stop. If you don’t write down the first one, or the second, or the third, eventually your thought-generating mechanism jams up. You become convinced you have no thoughts at all.

When I compare my old drafts with my new ones, the old ones look coherent enough. They’re presentable as stories. But they suck as drafts, because I can’t see myself thinking in them. I have no idea what I wanted that story to be. These drafts are opaque and airless, inscrutable even to me, because a good 90% of what I was thinking while I wrote them never made it onto the page.

These days, most of my thoughts go onto the page, in one form or another. I don’t waste time figuring out how to say something, I just ask, “what are you trying to say here?” and write that down. Because this isn’t a story, it’s a plan for a story, so I just need the words to be clear, not beautiful. The drafts I write now are full of placeholders and weird meta notes, but when I read them, I can see where my mind is going. I can see what I’m trying to do. Consequently, I no longer feel like my drafts obscure my original vision. In fact, their whole purpose is to describe that vision.

Drafts are memos to future-you

To draft effectively, you need a personal drafting style or “language” to communicate with your future self (who is, of course, the author of your second draft). This language needs to record your ideas quickly so it can keep up with the pace of your imagination, but it needs to do so in a form that will make sense to you later. That’s why everyone’s drafts look different: your drafting style has to fit the way your mind works.

I’m still working mine out. Honestly, it might take a while. But recently, I started writing in fragments. That’s just how my mind works: I get pieces of sentences before I understand how to fit them together. Wrestling with syntax was slowing me down, so now I just generate the pieces and save their logical relationships for later. Drafting effectively means learning these things about yourself. And to do that, you can’t get all judgmental. You can’t fret over how you should be writing, you just gotta get it done.

Messy drafts are easier to revise

I find that drafting quickly and messily keeps the story from prematurely “hardening” into a mute, opaque object I’m afraid to change. I no longer do that thing, for instance, where I endlessly polish the first few paragraphs of a draft without moving on. Because how do you polish a bunch of fragments taped together with dashes? A draft that looks patently “unfinished” stays malleable, makes me want to dig my hands in and move stuff around.

You already have ideas

Sitting down to write a story, I used to feel this awful responsibility to create something good. Now I treat drafting simply as documenting ideas I already have—not as creation at all, but as observation and description. I don’t wait around for good words or good ideas. I just skim off whatever’s floating on the surface and write it down. It’s that which allows other, potentially better ideas to surface.

As a younger writer, my misery and frustration perpetuated themselves: suppressing so many thoughts made my writing cramped and inhibited, which convinced me I had no ideas, which made me even more afraid to write lest I discover how empty inside I really was. That was my fear, I guess: if I looked squarely at my innocent, unvetted, unvarnished ideas, I’d see how bad they truly were, and then I’d have to—what, pack up and go home? Never write again? I don’t know. But when I stopped rejecting ideas and started dumping them onto the page, the worst didn’t happen. In fact, it was a huge relief.


Next post: the practice of shitty first drafts

Ask me a question or send me feedback!

Changes

pairing: connor murphy x reader

word count: 5,500

genre: a lil mix of fluff and angst

summary: you and connor murphy are partnered together for a biology project, and you have no idea what’s going to happen throughout the course of the week - or what’s going to change.

a/n: my first connor murphy imagine ahh!!! im really nervous to post this because honestly it’s all over the place and probably really terrible but i kinda dig it………… and i hope u do too!!! enjoy!!! <3


“Connor Murphy and Y/N L/N.”

Oh, God.

Biology had never been your favorite class. (Which wasn’t saying much, of course – no one really liked bio.) It was boring to sit in, tedious to go to, and, frankly, completely useless – who actually used biology? Like, in a career? You only signed up for it because your mom wanted you to, and even then, you did it begrudgingly.

After the first day of the semester, you wished you could take it back.

Especially when you realized how thoroughly ignorant your teacher was. She was old, eerily silent (sometimes Connor liked to ask her if she was dead), strict, and, frankly, really terrible at understanding how teenagers worked. Like, she had absolutely no idea when people hated each other or loved each other – and, no matter who she matched together as class partners, things always ended in disaster.

Except for you, of course – you always had a clean track record.

You didn’t think it would stay that way for long.

Keep reading

W2H2 Update! (Scripts are hard..)

Just a random update to give you guys an idea of what I’m up to and where I’m at!

So… writing a script??? Is like, the hardest thing in the world.  Rather, writing a GOOD script is hard.  Even for bigger Hollywood productions!  I won’t say which 60 million dollar animated movie I watched the other day that me and all my friends agree had a garbage script, ‘cause that’s not what this is about, but what I’m trying to illustrate is that it’s difficult and is often over-looked.  Some things don’t require a strong script and that’s fine, but Welcome to Hell does.

Anyway, I’m also not by any means professing that I’m some master writer who understands the nuance of a good script… quite the opposite, haha.  That’s where I’m at right now, and that’s what I’m trying to get better at.  So I bounce it off of my other animator friends for feedback, pinpoint any parts are tripping them up… have them read the dialogue, see what feels too clunky.  Getting different perspectives and figuring out solutions to the bits that are bugging me… it’s this whole process of picking it apart and putting it back together, just trying to build it up and make it as structurally sound as possible.  You want everything to click into place! 

It’s a learning process, and it’s a long process, and if I remember correctly, it was something I was still actively changing up until the last possible second when I made the first W2H.  It’s really interesting trying to pull something like this off and make it come together… I think about the way I wrote W2H back in college, and the way I’m writing it now, and it’s just such a strange process that evolves in these waves, and at some point you’re hit with a memory of, like, the First Draft, and you’re almost startled by how little sense it made and how far it’s come since then.  Sometimes I think it might be interesting to… I don’t know… put together a youtube video explaining the bizarre, but satisfying process of trying to carve a proper story out of some nebulous idea.  It’s definitely a kind of journey. 

I took a break a couple days ago to just… start animating a scene without dialogue, haha.  Because honestly, like, even the task of animation–this thing we all play up as some gargantuan feat–seemed simple compared to writing.  And it’s just a matter of, well, that I have PRACTICE doing animation.  Writing scripts (GOOD scripts) is definitely a skill I want to hone better! 

I mean other than that, I’m hoping to get some dialogue recordings done pretty soon (are any of you guys voice actors, btw? I might need someone, but I guess that’s a whole ‘nother post).  But that’s basically it!  Just kind of a vague update about the writing process.  I’m not complaining by any means, just kinda … keepin’ you guys posted.  I really want W2H2 to be good, so I’m tryin’ my best to GET GOOD and make make it good!

(Marginally related, some storyboard/script tips I wrote up a couple months ago while storyboarding.  They’re just notes to myself, but I thought they’d be helpful!  I’ll try to post more stuff like that if you guys find it interesting!)

anonymous asked:

Hey I asked for fic recs early and you said to be more specific. So Darry or Wolfstar recs. any kind that has either

of course i’m gonna go with remus/sirius bc well im remussirius trash extraordinaire also i don’t trust my taste in drarry bc i havent read drarry fics in years lbr. im sorry this took so long. i kept saving this in my drafts to add more and more each time i open it bc im trash and it took all the self control to just stop and publish it so here ya go 50 remus/sirius fics 

bold - fandom classics
italicized - since these come from these different sites with different ratings, i’ll just italicize all the ones rated mature, explicit, or nc-17 

  1. people have told me i’m the worst remus/sirius shipper bc i haven’t read this classic so imma just leave it here on the off chance you haven’t either idk the word count or how to rate this whoops
  2. lots of fumbling and sirius thinking remus is perfect and kissing scars and staying in bed and i am exhausted with these two im gonna cry (2.4k+ words)
  3. sirius is teddy’s preschool teacher and remus becomes a whole lot more motivated to bring his kid to school (it’s an au where teddy and harry are the same age)  (13.5k+)
  4. boarding school in the 70s au (tw: vivid mentions of rape) (36k+)
  5. first war and lie low at lupin’s era wherein they never said i love you (6.5k+)
  6. all rec lists need a coffee shop au (5k+)
  7. ballet au gosh i am soooo (8.2k+) 
  8. artist/model au. one of my favorites it ruined me i am ruined (55.5k+)
  9. very angsty holiday au (12k+)
  10. truth or dare game that spun out of control (hogwarts era) and the sequel (alternates between first war and book era) idk the word count bc they have to be downloaded now bc they were taken down and the second has lotsa remadora but it’s good remadora and honestly these are must reads
  11. au where remus and sirius took harry and went into hiding after james and lily got killed. just fuck me up. (2.3k+)
  12. muggle au and sirius is engaged and he meets remus and there’s lotsa angst and me crying tbh (10.5k+)
  13. hogwarts era and sirius and remus are angst machines who keep fighting/bickering as as alternative to admitting they wanna fall in love and fuck and grow old together tbh (4.6k+)
  14. photographer sirius and jazz musician remus it’s so beautiful (13k+)
  15. my favorite uni au tbh (105k+)
  16. post azkaban era i am so wrecked (10.4k+)
  17. i live for depressing, first war, suspecting-the-other-is-a-traitor fics (4k+)
  18. the usual ‘it was just supposed to be sex’ kind of thing that starts firewhiskey. of course. (the word count isn’t stated but it’s very long. like 24 chapters)
  19. remus being a smug know it all bc he’s an expert on sirius (1.2k+)
  20. get together fic after james and lily’s wedding (10.9k+)
  21. remus and sirius through Mr. Lupin’s eyes (2k+)
  22. sirius whining in his diary about remus ffs what a nerd (1.4k+)
  23. remus attempting to visit sirius in azkaban i died (2k+)
  24. they meet at a nightclub and do the sex and that’s the end of that (it’s totally not) (also auror sirius and tutor remus) (31.2k+)
  25. sirius and remus throughout the years (602)
  26. hogwarts era smut but also lots of cuddling and warmth and trying not to fall in love gOD THIS IS THE DEATH OF ME (1.3k+)
  27. rockstar/journalist au i love journalist remus so much  (36.2k+)
  28. another rockstar/journalist au bECAUSE HAVE I MENTIONED HOW MUCH I LOVE JOURNALIST REMUS? (98.4k+)
  29. mistletoe fic it’s so adorable im a mess (3.4k+)
  30. sirius teaching remus how to dance aka kill me (1.6k+)
  31. this is about remussirius and jily. the first and last kisses of both couples. this fucked me up tbh but the jily ones are sadder (2.6k+)
  32. muggle au they meet on the train (6k+)
  33. in which they are platonic. i swear. 100% bros watching porn. (5.4k+)
  34. office au (11.6k+)
  35. uni au with footballer sirius and photographer remus (2.9k+)
  36. ok i haven’t read this in three years and 14 year old me might have had horrible taste but from what i remember, this is the first fic that ruined me ever. half porn and half super heavy stuff that will leave you sobbing and aching. occasional fluff i guess. hogwarts era (122k)
  37. all i remember about this is that it’s amazing and james pov i love it
  38. i’ll say it again: i live for depressing, first war, suspecting-the-other-is-a-traitor fics BUT this one is my favorite and i’ve read it so many times (4k+)
  39. the marauders sharing a flat. it’s amazing, really 
  40. first war remus and sirius who have been broken up for a year (22.3k+)
  41. neighbor au (6.2k+)
  42. nerds freaking out about having to share a bed (3k)
  43. first war angst and smut (6.2k+)
  44. awkward sexual tension hogwarts era (13.k+)
  45. ootp era. bathtub sex and them being all disgustingly in love i’m a wreck (2.6k+)
  46. hogwarts era and literally nothing but sirius pining so hard and lotsa porn what’s not to love
  47. IT’S SO FLUFFY im gonna cry bye (5k+)
  48. sirius is a party planner for a bachelorette party and catches the eye of the stripper okAY THIS SOUNDS LIKE IT’S ALL PORN BUT IT’S HEAVY STUFF AND THE TEDDY LUPIN FEELINGS i hate everything (34.9k+)
  49. another angsty first war fic (10k+)
  50. my absolute favorite fic of all time. nothing can compare (92.8k+ so far. it’s a WIP)
I Have a Gun in my Bag - Min Yoonji Drabble

pairing: min yoonji (fem! yoongi) x reader

genre: fluff

word count: 968

a/n: hi lol um idk I’ve been feeling the min yoonji lately like I keep looking at fanart and trying to find drabbles or one shots but there’s literally like only one ??? this is to fulfil my own needs too pls I’ve made it so that I can continue it on and honestly like I would so if you would like me to please let me know and I’ll get straight on that, sorry I haven’t been posting lolol I suck but I’m going to post more regularly I know I say that all the time but seriously I am I have so much drafted anyways enjoy this lil thing I’ll make the parts longer if you guys want more but :))

Originally posted by jihoomie

“A transfer student?”

“Yeah, she’s coming today.”

I stopped just before the classroom door, recognising the voices of Park Jimin, the class president, and Jung Hoseok, the emo kid who was into literature. I had to admit, I was a little intrigued by this transfer student. This was the first I heard about it, and as I stepped into the room, I walked over to Jimin, tapping on his shoulder. Jimin was the friendliest guy that I knew, he was friends with everybody in the class, and I was sure that he would happily share the details.

“There’s a transfer student?”

“Oh, hey, Y/N! Yeah, her name is Min Yoonji. I’m excited to meet her, aren’t you?” Jimin flashed a signature bright smile, and I nodded my head in response to his question. By this point, Hoseok had begun whispering lines from a piece of literature to himself, no doubt as practice to read them to Yoonji when she arrived. Everybody looked pretty excited, and eager to meet the transfer student, and I was no exception.

I left the boys alone to do what they needed to do, seating myself at the very back of the room, as always. A few minutes later, Jimin briefly left the room, returning with Yoonji. I looked up from my desk, locking eyes with the female at the front of the room. I watched as Jimin instructed her to sit behind Jungkook, the tsundere of the class, which also happened to be next to me. My cheeks flushed as our eyes met once again, and I cast my gaze down to my desk.

Throughout the class, it was no secret that I couldn’t keep my eyes off of her. I kept telling myself to stop, but everytime I did, she would do something else that utterly captivated me. She was, as expected, flirted with by every guy in the class, and she rejected them like it was nothing. Even Kim Seokjin, who had gained the reputation of best looking in the school. I was intrigued, and a little confused by her. Everytime our eyes met, my heart jumped slightly, and it almost felt as if she could tell, given the smile making its way onto her lips each time.

When it was time for break, I stood up from my seat, packing my things away. As I was walking towards the door, Yoonji grabbed onto my hand as I passed her, almost causing my heart to jump out of my chest, and stopping me from walking any further. I turned around to face her, and she pulled me closer to her before dropping my hand.

“What’s your name?”

“M-Me? …It’s Y/N.”

“Cute. I’m Yoonji. Do you want to eat with me?”

“Eat with you? I guess so, that would be nice..”

I was sure by now that my cheeks were bright red, but there was no way to help that. Yoonji smiled at my reply, before walking past me, as I followed behind. She led me outside to a patch of grass, sitting down and pulling me down next to her. I squeaked slightly, surprised, earning a chuckle from Yoonji. She pulled out her phone and headphones, handing me one of the earbuds before we were interrupted by Jimin, trying his hand at flirting once again. I puffed my cheeks, reaching into my bag and pulling out my bottled water and taking a sip.

“I have a gun in my bag. Do I seem like a pushover?”

Well, there goes the water. I spat it out, unable to believe just how Yoonji was so carefree and came up with her words so easily. The water went all over Jimin, but I wasn’t even able to apologise immediately, as I was covering my face with my arm, trying to shield the fact that I was laughing so hard I thought I might cry.

“Jimin, I’m sorry!” I finally said through giggles, looking up to see Jimin looking completely deflated, and covered in water.

“It’s okay, Y/N.. No problem…” He sighed, before walking away, leaving me to finally laugh out loud.

“Do you actually have a gun in your bag?”

“Let’s hope you never have to find out.” Yoonji joked, and I had to double take to realise that she was kidding, earning a laugh from her, which I joined in with.

A couple of minutes later, we were both laying back on the grass, unable to hold in the laughter after witnessing Jimin’s reaction to Yoonji’s rejection.

Yoonji had a unique laugh, barely any sound came out, but she also had the cutest gummy smile. Yoonji was so cold to everybody else, and dismissive, yet she was laughing with me as if we had known each other for years. I wondered what I had done to earn this special treatment from her, but I wasn’t complaining. Quite the opposite, in fact.

When we had finally managed to stop laughing, Yoonji pulled out her phone once again, offering me the earbud, which I happily put in, turning onto my side to face her, the longer strands of grass slightly tickling my face. I wasn’t sure what we were listening to, but I didn’t mind. As I took in her every feature, I longed to know more about her. There was nothing more I wanted to do, in fact.

Before we knew it, it was the end of break, and we both sat up on the grass. She stood first, helping me up. I brushed myself off, before picking my bag up from the floor.

“After school. Here. Okay?” She spoke, her voice so much softer than when she spoke to anybody else. I nodded, and she walked off to class.

I had never wished for a school day to end faster.

Step Nine

It’s years of hurt and healed over heartbreak before Jack Zimmermann sits Kent Parson down in a coffee shop in Providence the morning after a drag out game and makes amends.

They sit in silence with their coffee for longer than is comfortable before Jack musters up the courage to say, ‘Listen. So as a part of my program—you know—as a part of getting sober and staying sober, I’m supposed to make amends.’

Parse raises one meticulously groomed eyebrow. Jack pushes forward.

‘Basically I’m supposed to say I’m sorry to the people my addiction might have hurt, um, that I hurt and you don’t have to but I’m really hoping you’ll hear me out.’

‘Seems a little late for that,’ Parse says but he doesn’t sound unkind, just tired.

‘I know,’ Jack says. ‘It’s on the list.’ And honest to god pulls out a note pad.

Parse laughs because it’s funny and because if he doesn’t he’ll cry. Jack laughs too.

‘This is gonna be good for us,’ he says. ‘It’s time to get some closure.’ Kent nods.

‘There are a lot things. Some are big and some are small and they’re supposed to be about my addiction but I think we both know the hurt goes deeper than that so, um, here we go I guess.’ Jack clears his throat, then looks at Kent very purposefully.

He says, ‘I’m sorry I let you feel responsible for me. I knew then and I know now that you were doing the best you could to cope with a really messy situation, and I’m sorry I let you feel guilty when you couldn’t handle my mental health and addiction by yourself.’ Kent nods, lips tight

‘And I’m sorry I overdosed on what should have been one of the best days of both our lives. I mean I didn’t do it on purpose but that wasn’t how that day was supposed to go. The draft was supposed to be our triumph.’ Kent looks hard but Jack thinks he sees tears welling up in the corner of his eyes. Maybe he should stop, but he’s gone this far. He deserves to hear this, Jack thinks, and presses on. ‘I’m sorry I told you you couldn’t come out because I was scared of the rumors. I’m still scared but you deserve to come out if you’re ready.’

Kent is actually crying now, silently but visibly all the same, tears rolling down the pink of his cheeks.  

‘I’m sorry for every time I kissed you, and kissed you back, and you know, did more than that, when I wasn’t ready to deal with it and I’m sorry I always ran away or snuck away afterwards. I’m sorry I used to call you at 3 am and leave you weird voicemails. I should have just told you I missed you.’ Kent gives him a shaky smile.

‘I’m sorry I shut you out of my life for years without warning or explanation. I thought I needed to leave you behind to heal. I guess we’ll never know if I was right but it was unfair all the same. I wish I had told you why.’ Kent nods, but doesn’t say anything. ‘I’m sorry I used to hide pills in your bag without telling you. That was fucked up. A lot of things were fucked up. I’m sorry I was mad at you for winning the Stanley Cup with out me—showing up unannounced was kind of rude but I was vicious about it because I was jealous and because it confirmed all the moments I ever thought maybe my dad wished he’d gotten you instead. I’m sorry I got mad when my dad was nice to you—god I was so scared he didn’t want me.’ He looks back up at Kenny who’s finally stopped crying, and braces himself to finish making amends.

‘I’m sorry I never told you I loved you. I swear to you Kenny I did. I wasn’t very good at it but I loved you so much. I’m sorry I never told you that I loved you and I’m sorry that later I told you I never had. I really wanted that to be true at the time. And I’m sorry I didn’t tell you all these things earlier. I was scared of seeing you and getting caught up in all our old shit. I was scared.’

Kent looks at Jack for a long time. ‘’I’m sorry, too,’ he says. ‘Are you really cool if I come out? Cause I’d like to, Zimms. I’d really like to.’

‘Yeah,’ Jack says. ‘Yeah I really am.’

anonymous asked:

Hey there! Not sure if you've already talked about this, but I was wondering what you think about Lestat's singing voice? I personally always thought of him as having an almost Bowie sounding voice but with the energy and range of Brendon Urie from Panic at the disco. Idk if you've heard the song Emperor's New Clothes by Panic! but that song is kinda how I think Lestat would sound- I think he'd have a kick ass falsetto voice. Also Ave Cesaria by Stromae is a good example in terms of French music

Hello hello~~~ This post got very long! It’s a big question!

I guess I haven’t talked about Lestat’s singing voice bc I can’t find it, but YES, #headcanon accepted, Lestat would have a kick ass falsetto voice! 

I just drafted this post and it’s too long, so much more can be written and more vids could have been featured, but I’ve spen

The short answer: As with Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, so is music in the ear of the beholder, and your idea of Lestat’s voice is as valid as anyone else’s. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise. 

I’m gonna offer a few responses on this, from AR, from canon, from a mutual VC fan friend of mine, and then respond to your suggestions. I had to make a cut bc the post was getting long.

SO, AR has said, on several occasions, that Bon Jovi was a big influence on Prince Lestat. She even dedicated Prince Lestat to Bon Jovi (as one of her muses). [X]

I also seem to recall Lestat mentioning a love for Bruce Springsteen in canon, but that might have been fanon. In QOTD, Baby Jenks says Lestat sings like the Boss:

Baby Jenks did love the Vampire Lestat’s music,… Yes sir, that was the one she loved… It wasn’t the words that got to her, it was the way he sang it, groaning like Bruce Springsteen into the mike and making it just break your heart.

I’m on Fire, the lyrics and the way he sings it, seem very Lestatuesque to me. Try Dancing in the Dark, also very Lestatuesque to me…

Thanks @sanguinivora​ for linking me to this Vulture interview (12/1/2010)! AR answers the question:

What do you think Lestat’s band would sound like now?

Well, it always sounded to me like Jim Morrison. That was the band I based it on — Jim Morrison’s voice, physical beauty, and the sound of that band in a song like “L.A. Woman.” That’s how I imagined Lestat’s band sounding. I don’t know a lot about rock music right at this moment; I haven’t listened to a stadium band in a while. I don’t know the latest stuff. I really don’t know. The main thing in emphasizing Morrison is that I’m emphasizing hard rock. It’s really acid rock. It’s not lightweight rock music and there has to be a good voice at the helm. Morrison had an exceptionally good voice for a rock singer. But modernizing it? Sure, whatever. Bring it on.

Hit the jump for more, cut for length

Keep reading

FINALLY

Request: “Could you do a Alec imagine of being Izzy’s parabati and best friend since childhood and Izzy talks you into going on a double date with her and Simon and Raphael because she knows both you and Alec need a push to make a move and she knows Alec knows Raphael has a thing for you which will make him extra jealous?? And you can’t deny you didn’t have a good time because Raphael is nice once you get past his layers of undead doucheness and you both were sarcastic snarky brats the whole date??”

This has been sitting in my drafts for ages so I decided to finally post it.

REQUESTS ARE STILL CLOSED.

Word Count: 1384

Clothes, shoes and a range of other items Izzy deemed ‘necessities’ lay scattered across the entirety of my bedroom floor like that first, crisp layer of freshly fallen snow, or perhaps a more accurate description would be that it looked as though the heavens had unleashed an almighty roar and sent waves of snow cascading down in an avalanche.  In reality, Izzy had come barrelling into my room, her arms laden down with a rainbow of fabrics and all sorts of beautifying concoctions that I couldn’t even name.  Somehow or other, I had allowed myself to be convinced into going on a date with Raphael.

I knew I shouldn’t have let Izzy talk me into it.  It was a crazy idea from the start, and I had somehow, foolishly let her convince me that I was doing this to help her out, and that things weren’t the other way round.  It was just so hard to argue with her perfect,well formed, valid arguments.  I mean, really, what reason was there for me not to go?  Apart from the obvious one which was that it would be a date with a vampire, but Izzy had managed to counter that argument faster than those superhuman bloodsuckers could run.  The one and only good reason I had for not going, was that I liked Alec.  I really liked Alec if I was being honest with myself… but Izzy didn’t know that.  Or at least I sincerely hoped that she didn’t.

Sneaking out of the institute was going to be near impossible.  Sneaking out of the institute without our absence going unnoticed was going to require divine intervention.  I didn’t know how Izzy managed it on a regular basis, especially with those terrifying high heels she always wore. Izzy had insisted that I wear something she picked out, and Izzy could be pretty stubborn when she wanted to be.  I supposed it was a Lightwood trait, it was definitely a huge contributor to all of the arguments she had with her brothers.  Her brothers.  If Alec caught us out here he would definitely kill us, if I didn’t die of embarrassment first.  Perhaps I would just sink down through the ground once and for all into my own grave.

Somehow, we made it out.  That wasn’t to say that we would make it back in, because I certainly wasn’t sure about that, but I was sure that Izzy would be able to sweet talk her way out of almost anything.  Or sweet talk somebody else into almost anything.  Like how she sweet talked me, into going on a date, with a vampire, with Raphael.

To be fair to Raphael, he wasn’t an awful date.  Sure, he could be snarky and sarcastic as hell, and had had a good few lifetimes to perfect the art of the perfect comeback, but that didn’t mean he was worse than me.  One of the good things about this constant bickering was that I think it made Izzy regret her decision to invite me along just a little bit.  I caught her rolling her eyes at Simon more than a couple of times throughout our meal at Takis Diner.  Especially when we first walked in.  
“Well hello there darling.”  Raphael had practically purred, his eyes crinkling with mirth as his lips tugged to the side in a smirk in reaction to the glare I shot his way.  
“Hi.”  I replied, stiff as a robot.  Simon stifled a laugh as he reached out to embrace Izzy in a warm hug.  
Raphael offered me a pout, his arms outstretched.  “Hey!  Where’s my hug?”  
“Same place as that Shax demon I banished yesterday, would you like to join it?”   
“I’m beginning to think that might be a better idea than this date.”  
“Good, then we’re on the same page.”
“Can’t you two be nice to each other for one night?”  Izzy interjected with a frown and a sharp glare. 

As it turned out, the answer was no.  Whilst we weren’t being serious, or at least not entirely with our insults and snippy snide comments, they did carry on for the rest of the night.  They continued through the meal itself, while I watched, with morbid fascination as Raphael and Simon both drank glasses of blood.  “Something the matter dear?”
“Just wondering how that stuff can possibly be appealing to you.”  I frowned, glancing at the deep red liquid.  
“Don’t worry darling, I’d much rather be drinking your blood.”  This was said with a deep breath in, which got him exactly the reaction he had desired.  With my fists clenching around my cutlery I managed to snap back with sickly sweetness.  “Well don’t you worry either sweetheart, I’d much rather be spilling your blood.  Guess we can’t all have what we want.”  
“I have to agree, I certainly don’t think I’ll be getting any -”
“Hm-hmm.”  Simon cleared his throat with a meaningful glance towards Raphael who sighed, leaning back with his drink in hand and a roll of his eyes. 
The bickering also continued along the walk home, although I did notice that as the night wore on, and we spoke more, chatted more, I began to like him more.  Not like like him, I was still head over heels for Alec, but I couldn’t deny that Raphael could be a nice guy.  When he wanted to be.  Or maybe it was just that I had wanted to see it before, or hadn’t looked close enough, hadn’t read between his sarcastic lines.  Either way, for somebody who was dead, he certainly managed to make me feel alive.  He managed to make me laugh and smile, and warm up to him little by little, right up until the moment Alec met us at the institute gates with a scowl to rival them all.  

Simon and Raphael got the message straight away, and scurried off into the night, leaving Izzy and I to approach a gently fuming Alec with dread curling in the pits of our stomachs.  “Heey.”  I greeted as I swung open the gate.  “Fancy seeing you here!” 
“Fancy not seeing you two here!  For the last 2 hours!  Where the hell have you been?  And why were you with that bloodsucker?!”  I took note of how when Alec said that, how he didn’t use the plural.  He was referring to Raphael, and Raphael alone.  
“We were on a date.”  Said Izzy with care.  
“A date?!”  Alec all but roared.  “With a vampire?!”  He was looking straight at me now, and I got the distinct feeling that I was the person his anger was directed towards.  Or perhaps it wasn’t quite anger.  Was it jealousy I was detecting?  “Do you have any idea-”
“It was my idea.”  Izzy butted in, her tone as pointed as her stiletto heals.  Hurt and a hint of betrayal flashed across Alec’s face.  
“Why?”  To me, he directed his next comment.  “I’m sorry she dragged you into that then, although you seemed to be having a very nice time.”  Was I imagining things?  To me, it sounded like jealousy, for sure.  
“I did have a very nice time, but I can assure you it won’t be happening again.  Raphael is nice, he’s funny, but I don’t see him that way.”  
“Oh.”  He seemed to pause to collect his thoughts.  “Well, that’s, good to know I guess.  But, why did you go on a date with him in the first place if you didn’t think of him that way?  You know he likes you-”
“Wait, what?”  
“And,”  Alec carried on regardless, “I don’t understand why you wouldn’t just ask somebody you do think of that way.”  Alec’s fists were now clenching and un-clenching at his sides as his eyes darted about.  He was thinking about something.  And if I wasn’t mistaken, he was jealous, which meant maybe this would be a good time to finally say what I had been thinking for a while.  
“Maybe I wasn’t sure he thought of me the same way.”
“Yeah, well you’ll never know if you don’t ask.”
“Okay then Alec, will you go out with me?”  For once Alec seemed entirely lost for words.  He nodded, still not uttering a single word, even as his mouth opened and closed while Izzy danced beside me.
“FINALLY!”

BESTSELLER {part 10 of WE GOT MARRIED}

The morning sunlight hit your face and you slowly stretched your arms. Looking over at the man that was laying next to you, a smile appeared on your face. His closed eyes and innocently calm features were angelic in the morning. Lightly brushing his hair out of the way of his eyes, you giggled at the way he scrunched up his nose. After a large heavy breath from Namjoon, you looked over at your phone.

Meeting at 10, we need to talk about your book. Your manager had texted you and looking at the time, you nearly leapt out of your skin. Giving Namjoon a small kiss on the cheek, you left him a note to tell him you would be out, but the meeting shouldn’t take longer than an hour.

Bustling into your manager’s office, his face was stern.

I swear I can explain why I’m 3 minutes late! You started, but he simply put up his hand.

That’s not why I’m upset. I just got off the phone with our publisher … He began and you excitedly asked.

How are they liking the new book? I am super interested to hear their feedback! But one look at your manager’s grim face and you didn’t want to hear the answer. They don’t like it? Your disbelieving tone made your manager’s heart break a little.

Y/N, it’s not that they don’t like it, it’s just so different from what you usually write. They just want another bestseller. He said and you looked down at the draft that laid on your manager’s desk. Red marks were drawn all over it and you wanted to curl up.

Another bestseller? So it’s not about what I want to write, it’s solely about what sells. When have we ever been the type to give into that idea? You were angry now.

Well they have a point. They put a lot of faith in you and your writing, they rarely have you do re-writes or even make a lot of edits, so I think this is the least you can do! He defended the publishers, but you weren’t having it.

What about other publishing companies? You questioned and your manager shook his head.

That would be horrible for your reputation as a writer. Jumping from publisher to publisher. Why don’t you go home for a bit? Cool off, then we can talk. You manager said and handed you the critiqued draft of your book concept. Nodding without another word, you walked out of his office. The morning had now gone gray, the sun hiding behind clouds and it mimicked how you felt. At the moment, you wanted to cry, curl up next to Namjoon, and eat your weight in ice cream, but another part of you wanted to fight.

Namjoon woke up at around 10:30 to an empty bed. Pouting slightly at the lack of company, he wandered into the kitchen to find the note. Smiling at the heart you had put beside your name, he folded the paper and placed it in his pant pocket. He then went on his hunt for food and coffee, searching the cupboards and fridge for enough stuff to make a simple breakfast, and setting out the table for the two of you. Namjoon was ready to text you around 11:05 when you walked in the door. Your shoulders were slumped and your draft was in your hand.

Hey, babe! Namjoon exclaimed and walked up to you. Wrapping you up in his arms, he placed a kiss on your hair, but there was no reciprocation, no cute hello, just a depressed you standing enveloped in his arms. A wave a panic ran through his stream as he thought about you maybe regretting last night, but instead you handed him the draft to your book. It was the same one he had read nights prior, but now it was covered in red marks, the largest word on the from cover was UNPRINTABLE. He scanned a few of the comments, but could easily see why you were upset.

I guess this isn’t bestseller material. You mumbled into his chest and he rubbed your back. Placing the draft down on the table, he continued to calm you by massaging circles into your back. He heard you sigh and for once Namjoon didn’t know what to say. On one hand he could say to fuck those idiots for not seeing real talent, but another part understood that an investor might have different ideas of what kind of product he or she wants to see. I just wanted to write something for me, for once. You continued and Namjoon stopped his motions. Pulling you away from his chest, he looked you in the eye.

Then write it for you! Continue to write the book! No one can stop you from doing it during your spare time and I swear if no one else reads it, I’ll be happy to be the one and only customer. He stated defiantly and it sparked a new fire in you.

You’re right! I don’t need to always do things for everyone else! I can do them for me! You replied enthusiastically and Namjoon smiled widely.

That’s my girl! He pulled you in and you brushed your lips against his.

Thanks, babe. You said and Namjoon’s cheek tinted pink.

Uhm, no problem. He mumbled and scratched the back of his head in embarrassment. Hey, I made breakfast! He opened his arms and you looked at the table. Cereal, some toast, and a couple cups of coffee sat on the table, you wanted to laugh a little, but you thought it was cute how much he tried.

I think I have some fruit and pastries as well, if you would like. You turned to Namjoon and his eyes lit up.

Pastries?! He ran into the kitchen and you let yourself laugh out loud at his childish behavior. Walking up behind him in the kitchen, you wrapped your arms around his back, hugging him, he stopped. What’s wrong? He asked as he stopped and rested his head on yours, but you shook your head.

Nothing, I’m just happy that you’re here. You mumbled into his back and he smiled. Turning around in your arms, he sealed a kiss on your lips.

I’m happy you’re mine. He responded and the two of you had a nice calm morning.

What Idiots - Mitch Marner Imagine

One with Mitch Marner you’re hanging out with Auston Matthews and he’s the third wheel?

Originally posted by wonthetrade


So I’m not sure on how I feel about this one. I tried to make it alright but I guess I just wasn’t feeling it. I actually almost deleted this but I decided I might as well try to post and see how it does! Also woah this was my first request out of nine in the past like what two days??? Anyway even though I hate it I hope you like it! -Accius

Your name: submit What is this?

Keep reading

I'll post this on ao3 later

I didn’t make the plot line up! The idea goes to the respected creator I just took my own spin on it.

Betty happily crept up the stairs and slowly opened Veronica’s bedroom door. It was dark, she could see the outline of the raven haired girl lying down. She tip toed over to the bed and slid next to her, placing a hand on the smaller girls waist.
“Hey love bug!” Betty kissed the tip of her nose. Veronica looked indifferent through the moon light and turned away from her girlfriend.
“Please go away…” she mumbled through her pillow. Betty’s heart sunk, she scooted closer trying to nuzzle the neck of the other girl.
“Woah what’s wrong?” Betty backed off and furrowed her eyebrows.
“Nothing. I just want to be alone. Now go away.”
“V, you never want to be alone. I’m not leaving until you tell me what’s wrong.” Betty tried to lace her fingers with Veronica’s but she pulled her hand away. “Veronica ple-”
“You weren’t there…” Veronica interrupted.
“I wasn’t where?” Veronica turned back to face the blonde girl.
“The variety show.”
“…oh… OH! Veronica I’m so sorry I got so carried away with the inv-”
“The investigation. I know… I smell his cologne on you…” Betty was quiet. “I don’t even have to hear the story. Let me guess, he kissed you?” Betty remained silent, her heart sinking more and more with every second. “Listen, I get you aren’t out to your parents or anyone else. But that doesn’t mean you can go around letting people kiss you to avoid suspicion. You have to still be loyal to me. To us… I can’t do this if this is what you’re going to be like.” Betty felt like she was hit with a truck
“V, I-”
“I don’t want to hear it. I want to be alone. Goodbye. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Betty saw Veronica’s eyes fill with tears and she silently got up and head to the door.
“I’m going to make this right V. I promise.” Betty took one last look at the dark figure before walking out, her throat closing up, and her heart breaking.
Veronica hugged her pillow close. Her mind racing at a million miles a minute. She hugged her pillow close and let the tears fall out. Before she met Betty, she didn’t believe in committed relationships. Everything was temporary. But Betty felt permanent. At least, she thought Betty felt permanent.
The next day wasn’t easy for either of the girls. Veronica awoke to her eyes feeling heavy, probably from all the crying done the night prior. Betty awoke to crescent shaped cuts in the palm of her hands. Usually it was Veronica that kept her away from doing that, but she felt as if she’d lost her.
Betty arrived to school earlier than she normally does, just to get a little extra alone time. It was perfectly silent other than the scratch of her pencil on a rough draft of a Blue and Gold article she’d been working on when the last person on earth she wanted to see came in the room.
“Hola Bets!” Jughead Jones the third slid in and sat on the desk she was currently trying to work on.
“What.” She responded in a slightly annoyed tone, Jughead continued on talking as if he didn’t even get the hint that she wanted to be left alone, she didn’t even hear a single word of what he said until the end when he asked
“Would you like to go out sometime? Just me and you?” He didn’t seem nervous at all. He looked like he was expecting her to say yes. But she lost it.
“No! Jughead no. Actually you kind of ruined this thing I had going with someone else. Someone I’ve been falling for now won’t talk to me. Because you kissed me. Jughead I am a FLAMING lesbian.” Betty stood up and paced back and forth rubbing her temples, preparing for the disappointment in Jugheads response. But there was none. Instead, this damn white boy started LAUGHING. Betty stopped pacing and turned to stare at him. He had to calm down for a second before he could start talking.
“Thank fucking GOD you realized that. I didn’t think I could handle the whole kissing Betty cooper until she realized she was a lesbian. Who did you have a thing with? I feel slightly bad now and want to help fix it.” Betty took a large swallow and kicked at the ground. She didn’t even have to answer.
“Oh fuck dude was it Veronica?! I didn’t accidentally tear up Bonnie and Clyde? Mom and Dad? Romeo and Juliet?” Betty still didn’t answer. “Ah damn I’m a moron. Well, I guess it’s my job to fix it up.” Jughead hopped off the desk and paced around Betty.
“You have a car right?”
Veronica arrived to school in less extravagant clothing than usual. She wasn’t wearing her iconic dark lipstick, or the sassy smirk that seemed to have permanent residency on her lips. She walked with less pep in her step, and more of a long drag. As she approached her locker, all she could think about was how much she wished she hadn’t left New York. The locker door creaked open and a neatly folded slip of paper fell into her hands. Before she could even open it, Kevin slid next to her.
“As the towns certified gay I must do my duty and formerly apologize for the feelings you are experiencing at the moment.” He said holding his chin high
“And what might those feelings be? Walk me to class Keller.” They turned and walked towards the west wing.
“The feeling of being straight blocked. The feeling of falling for a heterosexual human being. It’s tough.” He said sincerely.
“That’s the thing though Kevin. She’s not straight! I know she’s not! All the sleepovers, all the times me and her ‘went to the bathroom’ together, all the times we told you and the other guys 'we’d catch up’, what did you think we were doing?” Veronica gripped her book so hard her knuckles began to turn white. Kevin thought for a moment and went pale.
“Oh my… you, and Betty-”
“Yes!”
“And you, did-”
“YES!”
“And she-”
“YES, honestly I thought you had a gaydar?!” Veronica exclaimed rolling her eyes, she slipped into her geometry class leaving Kevin behind in the hallway. Baffled.
When Veronica sat down she remembered the slip of paper from her locker. She unfolded it and looked at the message written inside
V,
Please meet me at the old drive in after
school today. If you don’t I understand,
but I need to see you
~B❤
Veronica didn’t want to go. She wanted to ignore Betty. But there was something about that damn girls cursive handwriting and the way she signed her name with a heart that made Veronica’s insides squirm.
They managed to avoid each other all day. Veronica skipped lunch and hung out with Ethel in the library instead. And after school, when Betty usually picks up Veronica and they go to sweet water river for some… activities. Veronica just walked instead. She saw Betty’s car in the drive in parking area and wandered over to it. Her heart pounding out of her chest. Betty was leaning against the hood, wearing a white t-shirt and that baseball cap she knew made Veronica weak in the knees. Betty turned and grinned at the sight of the girl.
“Hey!” Betty looked the girl up and down.
“What is it?” Veronica said not even returning the greeting. Betty took a few steps towards Veronica and looked deep into her eyes.
“Veronica, I’m sorry. I’m not going to make excuses for what I did and what I let happen. You don’t even have to know the whole story because it still hurt you. Honey, you are by far the most important person in my life. Even just today without seeing you made me so much more irritable. I missed you and it hasn’t even been 24 hours. I don’t even know why I thought what did would be okay” Veronica couldn’t help but get lost in the green eyes in front of her. She glanced down at Betty’s hands and saw the marks on her palms.
“Are those from me?” She asked quietly motioning to her hands. Betty frantically shoved her hands in her pockets.
“No! No. They’re not because of you. It’s just- nerves,” Betty lied and shot her a smile. But Veronica didn’t buy it. Her breath hitched in her throat at the thought of Betty clawing at herself because of her. “Listen, V, if you don’t forgive me. I get it. You can never talk to me again-” Veronica cut her off by placing her lips on hers. Betty pulled her hands out of her pockets and placed them on the small of Veronica’s back, puffing air lightly out of her nose that made Veronica’s lips tingle. They pulled away reluctantly.
“Please just tell me you won’t go around kissing guys to hide your sexuality.” Veronica bopped Betty’s nose with her pointer finger which caused Betty to scrunch her face up.
“I promise I won’t. And I can’t prove it.” Betty pulled away and travelled to the back of her truck, there was some sort of cloth folded up in the back. Betty grabbed it and unfolded it in one swift movement.
It was a very sloppy looking handmade flag that had
“I’m in love with Veronica Lodge” written in sharpie. It was very clearly written in Jugheads handwriting. Betty smiled and quickly duck taped it to the back window of her truck.
“You are such a dork.” Veronica laughed crossing her arms.
“That may be true but I’m your dork and you love me.”

milack headcanons

lets get gay up in here

  • zack has a HUGE crush on milo first. he thinks about how much he has fun with him (like rollercoaster fun where you hate it while youre on it but afterwards youre like “LETS GO AGAIN!!”) and he realizes that he doesnt want anything to change and then just like.. everything crashes down on him all at once and he realizes he fell in love with a walking disaster and even worse- “what if he doesnt LIKE ME BACK aughhh”
  • zack ends up calling melissa in the middle of the night every other day like “hey does milo like flowers? chocolates? does he read poetry or listen to music more choose one” and melissa is like. whyd you wake me up why dont you just ask milo
  • it doesnt take long for melissa to realize hes got a crush and she just endlessly teases him about it. they show up late to school together and shes like “well did you enjoy your adventure with milo ayy wink wink kissy noise” and zacks like “shut up” and milos confused bc he thought it was a pretty good adventure
  • milos really blunt and open so one day zack is like “okay im gonna head off somewhere bye guys” and milo says “okay i love you bye” and zack almost keels over. milo gets scared its a murphys law thing and he stops saying “i love you” to people for awhile which makes zack kind of upset but he cant just TELL him why he reacted so much
  • zack talks to melissa about having a crush on milo just about all the time and she starts regretting knowing about it bc he is ALWAYS talking about milo when hes not right next to them. like she likes milo and talking about him and whatnot but is this really necessary and he overthinks everything all the time
  • “do you think i should get nicer clothes” “your outfit looks fine zack” “maybe i should save up for some cool jewelry” “ he might notice it i guess” “maybe i should get some safety equipment to hint at how i want to hang out with him even more” “dude" 
  •  milo freaking. loves with all his heart in such a strong way. he doesnt realize how much he loves his friends and craves affection until hes hanging out with zack and he just wants to lean his head on his shoulder so he does and hes like.. this is nice. meanwhile zack holds his breath bc like… milo is Very Close aaaaaaaa
  • milos totally autistic and infodumps a lot and zack loves it bc he loves his voice and he loves his smile and he loves the way he gestures to punctuate what hes talking about and when he flaps and he loves him so much and why did he let himself fall for him so hard 
  • zack is really really romantically frustrated and he’ll probably never be able to confess to milo about his crush bc hes not a risk taker at all and that makes him a little upset and he loses quite a bit of sleep drafting love letters in his head but he just never writes anything down and even if he did he’d never give it to milo bc he’d get cold feet anyways
  • zack actually works up the nerve to confess one day but like because of the murphys law thing he spends the entire day being interrupted by disasters and just other ppl even just coming up to talk to milo and hes just not able to tell him about his crush for the whole day and hes too exhausted by the end of the day to confess
  • that day ends with milo being like “thanks for staying with me for this whole day zack! i know it was pretty nuts… what was it you wanted to talk to me about?” and zack hesitates for a moment before just hugging him and being like “i just wanted to say youre my best friend dude”
  • he complains to melissa later about WHY didnt he just TELL HIM he had a perfect chance and he basically friendzoned his own crush and nothing would ever be okay again now and melissa is like “dont beat yourself up about it dude you’ll get more chances” but zack doubts it because hes never done anything before

theyre the football player/cheerleader couple of my dreams holy shit

hello! i know the randl tumblr fandom is a quaint environment and doesn’t really delve into many issues, but i’ve something on my mind for a while now and i’d really love to share it w yall and get your opinions on it.

that being said, let’s talk about myth*nt and the lack of diversity within it!

Keep reading

Chaos and Adventure (ME Fic)

I was @qbert0​‘s Holiday Harbinger gifter, and wanted to write something to go with the dice bag. You mentioned that you liked fShep/Liara and Garrus/Tali as a secondary pairing, that you enjoyed the whole gang’s adventures in the Citadel DLC, and requested no heavy emotional angst, so I tried to write a bit of fluff that captured some of those themes. It was a fun piece to write and I hope you enjoy it!

Post-game, ambiguous as to ending but Shepard is alive, pretty much pure fluff.


Judging from the length of the line outside, the rebuilt Ryuusei’s Sushi Bar was even popular than the old one. Even in civvies, Shepard was quickly recognized and waved to the front of the line. Liara had wondered if she would prove to be on some sort of restaurant blacklist, but if the maître d’ was aware of Shepard’s role in the demise of the sushi bar’s previous incarnation, she gave no sign. “Welcome, ma’am, Ryuusei’s is honored to have you,” she said smoothly. “This way, please, the rest of your party is waiting for you.”

Liara took a moment to look over the place. The renovation had been extensive (and doubtless expensive). Fish swam contentedly below her feet, unaware of the tragic fate of their predecessors. The wood paneling was carefully aged as if to suggest that the restaurant had been in continuous operation for decades, and certainly had not been invaded by mercenaries or swarming with Reapers at any point.

The maître d’s brow was furrowed in a look Liara had learned to interpret as impatience. She fell in beside Shepard as they made their way across the restaurant. Garrus Vakarian gave a quick wave from across the way – of course, he had spotted them first. Tali’Zorah’s attention appeared to be completely absorbed by the “NEW Dextro Menu!” in her hands, but she quickly glanced up as the maître d’ pulled out Shepard and Liara’s chairs.

“Shepard! Liara!” she said. “It’s so good to see you!” Liara didn’t need to be able to see Tali’s face to know that she was smiling. “It’s been too long.”

“Well, if some people could tear themselves away from their homeworlds more often…” Shepard said teasingly.

Garrus spread his hands. “You know how it is, Shepard,” he said ruefully. “One meeting after another, datapad after datapad filled with decisions to be made… It’s enough to make a turian think about resuming his vigilante career. I’d have thought the Reaper advisor would be, eh, off the hook with the Reapers gone…”

“Ah, ah!” Tali waved a finger in mock indignation. “No Reaper talk.”

Keep reading

A threatening kiss

You and Harry are arguing after pictures of him making out with a girl are published online. He claims he’s innocent, but fed up and hurt you make him sleep at a hotel for the night. 

Warning: Hints on mature content

This is a One Shot I have had saved in my drafts for a very long time now and since I haven’t posted in a while, I tried to go over it one more time and then publish it. Please pardon any mistakes, I finished it in one sitting. Thank you for reading and I hope you like it!

Gif is not mine, as I have never gotten this close to the beautiful human that is Harry Styles. 

His hair was a mess after having his ringed fingers furiously pulling on the newly short locks. Harry’s eyes were desperate and reflected his distraught emotions. After having argued for over two hours now, he felt like all hope I might believe his words was lost. He didn’t find it in him to blame me though, there was enough evidence to be held against him. I didn’t look much better myself as I had adapted Harry’s habit of stressed hair pulling. Additional to that came the redness on my cheeks and the stickiness the tears had left on them. My mind and heart raced as I stared at the man standing in front of me. He looked so strange to me now. 

I’d always expected something like this to happen, he was the famous Harry Styles after all. People loved him, wanted to be like or with him and as his girlfriend, I was aware that at some point, I’d be pulled into the mess as well. Some day, someone would try to jeopardize our relationship. However, I had always thought that should it happen, it wouldn’t be real. Maybe a PR stunt his management forced onto him without him knowing or something.
I had never believed that he would come home and tell me that the pictures of him pressed against and kissing a girl, who clearly wasn’t me, were real. The pink lips I was so familiar with had just been tasted by someone else and that was something I could not accept.

“Why can’t you just listen to me?” Harry cried, his voice breaking after being raised for too long.

“Because this is exactly what everyone warned me about when I first started going out with you!”

Sitting down on the couch I buried my face in my hands as I allowed more tears to fall. My entire body jerked as sobs wrecked through me and I shook my head in disbelief.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Harry asked, disappointment evident in his voice.

“It’s what you always do, right? You’re going out with one girl and once you’re sick of her you pick the next in line. I always figured that was a PR thing and that it wouldn’t happen once you were in a serious relationship, but I guess I was wrong.”

“Seriously, Y/N? You can’t just hold what I did before I was with you against me now, that would make you no better than all those damn magazines talking bullshit about me. And besides, that’s not what happened at all! This girl just came on to me!

"Yeah? Well maybe none of this would’ve happened if you’d told your precious fans about us! Maybe you wouldn’t have to fight girls off if they knew that you’re already with someone!”

I knew I was being unfair as we had actually gotten to an agreement on that topic already, but I continued anyway. “But you like that don’t you? That’s why you’re keeping me as your dirty, little secret at home! You love how every girl would throw herself at your feet and kiss them should you ask!”

He shook his head. Harry’s breathing was hectic and he looked as exhausted as I felt. His usually intimidating appearance was shadowed by the glossiness of his green eyes and the hollowness of his cheeks. I felt sick. I knew what my words did to him, but to finally have voiced my darkest fears felt like a weigh being lifted off my chest.

“Look, Harry, I think we’ve argued enough for tonight. I’m done.”

He stared at me silently before nodding. “Alright. We should just talk about it tomorrow.”

“No,” I breathed, repetitively clenching and unclenching my fists. “I’m done with this mess. I want- I need a break.”

Harry’s eyes followed my movements as I got up and brushed past him on my way to the kitchen. When my shoulder brushed against his arm I felt as if the contact burned my skin. The meal I had prepared before the yelling had begun was now a mess and littered all over. The pieces of his plate lay still shattered on the floor while my food rested untouched and I quickly decided that I would only clean the worst of it tonight and leave the rest for tomorrow.

“What are you saying? You- You’re breaking up with me?” Harry’s voice sounded small from behind me and my heart broke at the noise.

It was the complete opposite from how he had spoken to me only minutes ago, all quiet and uncertain. I sighed and leaned against the sink.
I knew Harry loved me and god knows I loved him more than anything else, but I couldn’t deny the pain I felt when I first saw the pictures. The disappointment cursing through my veins when he confirmed that they were real. The taste of vomit made its way up my throat by the mere thought of his lips pressed to hers. His hands touched the skin of her waist, the tight crop-top exposing more than I ever wore out of the house, as her own hands fisted in his hair. And no matter how much he swore his faithfulness and devotion to me, he didn’t feel like mine anymore.

“I’ll stay at a hotel for the night.”

Within three strides he reached me and turned me to face him with gentle touches to my cheeks. His green eyes stared intensely into mine, making my knees go weak. I pressed back hard against the cold stone, uncomfortable by his sudden closeness.

“You want away from me that desperately?”

I carefully pried his hands from my face. “Yes. I’m sorry, Harry, but I want some time away from you.”

Tears shot to his eyes, drowning their green in pain. A sob left his mouth and I had to look away. Watching Harry cry hurt more than anything else had tonight. It felt wrong, seeing a person who was usually so confident and had happiness shining from his eyes looking at me with such utter sadness.

“Y/N,” Harry whispered, “Please. I- I know I fucked up badly. But I swear to you I didn’t cheat. I never would. Do you really believe I would ruin us for someone else?” he shook his head forcefully. “You’re the most important person in my life. Please, I beg of you-”

He moved to touch me again but I quickly raised both hands and pushed him away hard, a gesture that wouldn’t have done much given his height and strength, but it was Harry, and Harry reacted to my discomfort. He pulled away instantly and took a few strides back.

“Y/N,” he murmured, defeated. “will you not hear me out? Please.”

“I have and I can’t any longer, Harry,” I exhaled desperately. My hands rubbed the skin beneath my eyes to wipe away any wetness left on the skin. “Even looking at you doesn’t feel the same anymore. You kissed her! I can’t even say it without feeling like I’ll have to vomit! This is too much for me, can’t you see that?”

Harry looked as if I had hit him right across his face. His cheeks were red and his mouth open in shock. He tried to reach me again but seemed to change his mind and he let his hands drop to his sides.

“From the day we met, I have done nothing but love you! I’ve put you first, I sacrificed so much and this is what I get? How is that fair? Tell me ‘cause I’m stumped!”

“Listen to me,” he spoke in an urgent tone. His pleading came unexpected as I had gotten used to him screaming at me with nothing but anger in his voice.

“I’ll leave. Okay? I promise not to come back until you ask me to. I’ll give you time,” his voice cracked and he coughed, “away from me. But please, stay here. I need to know you’re safe.”

His eyes searched my face and widened when I nodded. Sleeping at a hotel somewhere in London wasn’t something I was exactly eager to do and since the entire argument was all his fault in my eyes, it may as well be him who suffers the consequences. Though the whole situation did cause me suffering as well.

“Fine,” I agreed quietly.

“I’ll get a few things and then I’ll be gone.”

He looked like he had hoped I’d say something along the line of a request to make him stay, but I only nodded again and watched as he slowly left the kitchen. I didn’t move, even when I heard him rummaging in our drawers and the zipper of a bag being pulled. The pit of my stomach felt like a vacuum, an empty space that pushed all my organs out its way to fill my body with uneasiness. Soon Harry was standing in the doorway of the kitchen, fully dressed and with his bag over his shoulder.

“I’ll… ehm… I’ll go now. You’ll be alright?”

“I think so,” I croaked.

We stared at each other for a minute. His lips partnered as he bit back so much he had to say, before deciding against it.

“Can I ask one thing from you before I go?”

I hesitated but nodded. Harry sighed and clenched and unclenched his hands.

“Kiss me? I don’t want to leave without one more kiss from you.”

The desperation in his voice caught my attention and kept me from shouting at him for even asking. I understood that he didn’t ask out of lust for me or so that he could prove a point. His eyes pleaded me to let him have one reminder as he feared I would decide to end our relationship while he was absent.

“Just one,” I murmured and forced myself not to step back as he approached me.

Harry carefully touched my cheek and whimpered upon feeling how sore my skin was. I reached my own arms up as he gently nudged my nose with his before leaning in further until his warm mouth met mine. I whined in surprise as he didn’t go slow like he usually did, but pushed his tongue against my lips in order to get me to open them the second they pressed against his. Harry cradled my face in both hands to keep me from moving away as he guided the kiss. Just as I felt myself loosing to him he pulled away.
His eyes stared at me as if he tried to speak through them, but before I could say anything he turned and exited the room.
I jumped when I heard the door slam shut forcefully. My heart ached at the faint sound of his car pulling up on the street as he drove away, leaving me alone in our big and empty home. It took less than ten minutes of him gone before the events of the night came crushing down on me, causing hysterical cries to leave my mouth as I crouched down on the floor. I didn’t bother quieting my sobs and allowed myself to be absorbed in my hurt. At first it surprised me that none of our neighbors came to check up on me, but it soon occurred to me that they had most likely heard Harry and I argue and seen him drive away. A sudden fear crept through me and I jumped to my feet. As it was very late it had got dark outside a long time ago. I knew how crazy the Londoner streets around our house got by this hour and I instantly reached for my phone. How could I have made him drive? My heart ached at the thought of something happening to him; I wouldn’t be able to bare it. Before my fingers could dial the familiar phone number, I stopped. I was acting foolish and simply tried to invent a reason for me to call him back. His presence was already missed dearly.
I made my way up to our bathroom, undressed and stepped into the shower. Hot water touching my skin always washed away any tension, today however, it did little to calm me. At least it killed time. Once dressed I grabbed a blanked and curled up on the couch, but it felt much too big without a second body there. I uncomfortably stretched my limps and after flipping through various channels I switched the TV off. I rested one of my hands against my forehead and momentarily closed my eyes.

Think Y/N. Think. What are the facts?

Harry had kissed a girl that wasn’t me. He had betrayed me in the most hurtful way and had gone against the one promise he’d made me he swore was as sacred to him as it was to me. He cheated. Another cry left my lips and I cursed my eyes for letting more tears fall as an image of him having sex with her shot through my head. My stomach turned. My Harry laying bare on a bed for someone who wasn’t me? I had always hated to as much as imagine him with women before we started dating, but to think of him sleeping with someone else while he had me was something entirely else. Unimaginable almost.

I decided he couldn’t have. Though I had believed him kissing someone else was impossible, too, sex was an entirely different department and I knew he would never cross that line. After all, he did tell me about it. He came home and immediately owned up to everything.
It had hurt just as much as I imagined hearing it through the media would have, but his honesty still meant a lot to me.

His reaction could have been a better one, though. The second I had began questioning him for details about how exactly the girl had gotten to be in a position this close to him, he raised his voice. I understood his anger at my doubts in him, but how could he possibly blame me? There were pictures for god’s sake! And they didn’t exactly show him particularly disgusted to be making out with a fan.
But what if his loud reaction had been his desperation shining through as he tried to show me how scared he was of losing us?

“Oh, Harry,” I whispered. “What are you doing to me.”

Maybe what I had said earlier was true. This happened because no one knew he had a girlfriend. Girls wouldn’t push themselves at him anymore once they knew, right? Okay, some might, but I knew there were fans who respected the girlfriends. And maybe what he had said was true, too. That he had always been faithful to me and didn’t deserve to be doubted by me. If only I could have collected my emotions and let him explain himself better.
I loved him so much. Too much maybe.
One glance to the clock told me that Harry had now been gone for over three hours already. The ache in my chest increased and I missed my boyfriend’s presence more and more by the second. I unlocked my phone and opened his chat where my fingers quickly flew over the keys.

Come home?

His answer came so quickly it made me smile in relief and picture him sitting beside his phone all night, awaiting a message from me.

You sure?

My phone buzzed again before I could reply.

Never mind. Don’t tell me. I’m on my way.

And again.

I’ll be there in 30. I love you. xx

Warmth spread through my body and I smiled. I patted the pillow I rested my head on and sighed happily, knowing that he’d be back soon. For the first time this evening, I felt at ease.

….

“Y/N?”

I felt a hand on my shoulder and then one pressed against my hips. My head felt dizzy and my eyes too heavy to fully open as I was lifted up and scooped into Harry’s arms.

“Why were you sleeping down here, baby? Did you forget our incredibly comfortable bed upstairs?” Harry softly chuckled.

“Mhmm,” I hummed, nuzzling his neck, finding comfort in his warmth. My heart swelled and I felt like I could finally breathe again as my chest pressed against his when he pulled me against himself tightly.

“I can’t believe you fought me to leave you the bed and sleep somewhere else, only for you to take the couch. Makes no sense, love, does it?”

Harry smiled when the only answer he received from me was a whine. He carried me upstairs and gently placed me on our soft mattress. Careful fingers unzipped the thin material I wore over my shirt before he slid off my sweats, leaving me in just the shirt and a pair of knickers. All of a sudden his presence was gone again.

“Harry?” I called out for him as I propped myself up on my elbows.

“I’m gonna sleep in the guest room, my angel” his quiet voice hummed from somewhere in the room.

“Why?” I couldn’t hide the disappointment in my voice. I had expected us to be fine now and him to cuddle with me. My mind was too tired to think about any more reasons to argue with him. I longed for this to become one of the quiet and comfortable nights we always had.

“You said you needed space, my love. Wanted away from me, remember?”

I could particularly hear his pout in his voice before a chuckle rumbled through the room when I vigorously shook my head. My shoulders relaxed as I noticed how calm he seemed.

“I changed my mind,” I whined and sat up, reaching both arms out into the direction I believed him standing since the darkness prevented me from actually seeing him. “Come here. Need you to make me warm again.”

Harry didn’t make any noise. I hated not seeing him and sighed as my eyes finally adjusted to the darkness. He stood near the door, an expression of hesitation on his face. There was a small smile playing on his lips, however, and I could see the relief in his eyes upon my request of him staying with me.
He didn’t move fast, as if he was expecting me to change my ming any second, but my breath hitched when I felt the bed dip under the weight of another body. Harry crawled onto his side of the bed, pulling the covers higher over the both of us. He sprawled out beside me and his eyes locked with mine.

“Hi,” he murmured quietly.

I reached out my hand and he entwined our fingers. I smiled when he leaned forward and pressed his lips to my knuckles. A giggle escaped his lips when I pulled at his hand, motioning him to move closer to me. Following my silent request he pushed himself up and laid his body down closer to mine, close enough for me to feel the warmth radiating off of him.

“Hey,” I breathed.

We stared at each other. His green eyes were clear and lightly swollen, telling me that he had cried at least as much as I did.

“I’m so sorry,” he promised in a low whisper.

I shook my head to silence him.

“Harry,” I breathed, brushing his hair from his forehead. “You know you mean the world to me. I want nothing less than to lose you, you must know that.”

“I don’t want to lose you either, Y/N,” Harry spoke and leaned forward to bury his nose against my shoulder and in my hair.

“You’ve proven me often enough that I can trust you,” I continued and reached up one hand so that I could caress his neck.
“Tell me your side of the story,” I suggested, “I’ll listen properly this time and will believe you, whatever it is you tell me.”

“Okay,” Harry agreed and tugged on my hand, followed by giving it a gentle squeeze.

“I was at Sainsbury’s to get your tea like you asked me to, when all of a sudden this girl showed up and she just grabbed my face and began kissing me. She fisted my hair and shirt so I couldn’t get her off of me without hurting her, which I obviously didn’t want to do either. I really had to push her several times before she lessened her grip, but of course that wasn’t until some damn photographer’s took pictures of it. I’m so sorry,” he choked on the last word, “Y/N I never meant for you to get hurt like this. I know what it looks like. But I swear to you, the kiss wasn’t mutual. I didn’t kiss back and I haven’t seen the girl since, nor would I ever want to! I’m so sorry. Please believe me.”

A sob left his lips and I shuddered as wet tears dripped onto my neck.

“Sh, Harry, it’s okay,” I tried to reassure him.

“No it’s not, I mean look at you. You’re hurt and you’ve been crying. And I yelled at you when you aren’t the one who made the mistake. I’m such an asshole. ”

“That’s not true, Harry. You’re nothing like an asshole. At all.”

Harry sniffled and pulled back so he could look at me. The back of my hands moved up to brush over his temples before taking hold of his face.

“I love you so much,” I told him. “You didn’t to anything wrong. I should have believed you in the first place instead of doubting you. You’ve always been faithful to me, a picture shouldn’t have been able to ruin all that.”

I gently stroke over his eyelid with the tip of my finger. The skin felt sore and I sighed sadly.
“I’m sorry I caused you so much pain.”

His hands held my waist and pulled me against him. Harry shuffled further down and pressed his head against my shoulder. I rested my chin on his head and kissed his hair. I felt him breath heavily as if he wanted to say something and couldn’t find the words. Finally all he said was:

“I love you.”

“Love you, too, Harry” I whispered.

Silence settled upon us and I felt like there was nothing more we could say, but we didn’t fall asleep full. Harry didn’t move until the very early morning. It was only then that he allowed me to move my arms from around his shoulders to around his waist as he crawled up to lay closer by the headboard.

“M'gonna tell the world about us tomorrow,” he murmured, “Want everyone to know that m'taken.”

I sighed and nodded. “Please do.”

We stayed cuddled like that for several more hours before he rolled over me. His mouth found mine in a slow kiss and his hands reached down to pull at the hem of my knickers. We didn’t bother taking off my shirt or completely pushing down his boxers, only freeing what was needed.
I kissed him tenderly and blindly reached behind him to pull the covers over both of our heads.

Thank you so much for reading! Feedback is always welcome and so are requests, though I’m quite busy at the moment and it will take me some time to finish anything I start new right now. 

The rest of what I wrote you can find here: 

http://harryimaginedstories.tumblr.com/post/144920695218/masterlist


If you were his girlfriend blurb

If you were:

Calum’s girlfriend you would be super lowkey – like thief in the night lowkey about your relationship. Calum would neither confirm nor deny his relationship with you. Fans would be left to their assumptions and suspicions. There would be no posting of pictures together or tweeting each other or anything type of social media interaction which people would think there was no relationship or the entire thing is a hoax. But, to those who know you and Calum personally, they know the two of you are so in love. They know about the 1000 photos you keep of each other and the texting and phone calls and video calls. Calum’s a private guy and he wants to keep his private life, well, private. He’d want his girl to be the same. As for comments on social media, you would not address it. You wouldn’t respond to hate nor adoration. You’d just carry on.  Every now and then, you and Calum would be spotted together, holding hands and cuddle with each other, but all of those photos would always be so blurry or taken from a far distance by paps. If you were to run into fans, Calum would politely decline so the two of you could be on your way; or you’d step aside and let Calum take a few photos. You wouldn’t interact much with fans, solely because they’re Calum’s fans, not yours. The attention should be on him. You’d speak to them and make small talk but politely decline photos.

Michael’s girlfriend you would be open and interactive. Unlike Calum, I feel Michael would share you with the fans. Immediately, Michael would announce he has a girlfriend. He would be so excited to share the news with the fans. You would take picture of each other and post it on Instagram or tweet one another on Twitter. It wouldn’t be a secret and the fans wouldn’t have to guess – he would just tell them! During interviews, Michael wouldn’t hesitate to say “Yes, I have a girlfriend” if the interviewers asked him. You and Michael wouldn’t be seen out as much together (videogames, much?) but when you are seen by fans and paps, there was no hiding or running away. The two of you would embrace the situation and have smiles on your faces, holding each other’s hands. You would gladly talk to fans and take pictures if they asked but always directing the attention back to Michael. You would interact with the fans on social media, especially twitter. You would try to follow as many as you could. As for comments made, if it was nice or mean, you (and Michael) would respond to it.

Luke’s girlfriend you would ride the tide – figuratively speaking, of course. Luke is the frontman of the band and the attention is inevitable. It would be futile to fight it or deny it. So, the two of you would go with the flow. I think at first, you and Luke would go out of your way to keep your relationships away from the media. But as time goes on, it would be too consuming and exhausting so the two of you will not to hide it anymore. If they saw you, they saw you. Your relationship would be confirmed to the public through paparazzi photos, unlike Michael and his announcement on Twitter. Then, your follow count on Twitter would have an immediate increase, as well as your other social media accounts, like Instagram. When it comes to hate, you and Luke would occasionally address it if it got too much but if you could let it slide, you’d just ignore it. As Luke’s girlfriend, the two of you would address each other from time to time on Twitter and have cute conversations or joke around with one another. But most of the action can be found on Instagram. We all know how much Luke loves Instagram Stories. You would always be on his Story and vice versa. You both would share your adventures and food ventures with the world. 

Ashton’s girlfriend you would be simple and grown up. Ashton is the eldest in the band and it would be safe to assume his girlfriend would be at the same maturity level or even more than his. When you and Ashton start dating, you accept it’s only a matter of time until the media and fanbase find out. I imagine Ashton being confronted with the question of whether or not he was dating you on interviews all too often. So the two of you deliberate on going public. You both decide that after over six months of dating, it might be time to just be honest with the world. So at an interview, Ashton, instead of laughing off the question and changing the subject, he answers it. You, as his girlfriend, receive an overwhelming amount of attention. Fans come up to you on the street or anywhere in public where you’re recognized; you have unceasing notifications on your social medias. You keep conversations with the fans short and simple. You would follow back fan accounts, and once in a while, you would respond to questions. Ashton would be incredibly happy to be out in the open with you. It’s funny because the both of you share each other with the fans. You balance your relationship really well in the eyes of the media, with a comfortable amount of exposure and the perfect amount of personal privacy.

A/N: I’ve had this in the drafts for a few years unfinished. I had left off on Luke. Anyway, I decided to finish it for you guys. Enjoys :) Requests are open, btw. My inbox is dry as the Sahara Desert so please message me. Love. x