i have too much to say so i'll just say nothing

A Handful of Questions to Ask Yourself While Creating a Character

Compelling characters make compelling stories. Here’s a bunch of questions you can ask yourself while developing a character. 

1) What does your character want from life? What is their motivation? What drives them? Most people want things - it could be as small as wanting a sandwich, or something huge like wanting to change the world. Does your character want something? Does your character dream? What about? And if they don’t, why don’t they? 

2) Is your character shy? Outgoing? Insecure? Proud? Why are they the way they are? My favourite example of this question answered well is Ron Weasley from Harry Potter. He’s insecure because he doesn’t come from a wealthy family, has a bunch of older brothers who are all amazing in some form or way, his mother always wanted a daughter, Ginny, and so he doesn’t feel as wanted. Also, one of his best friends is the Chosen One, and the other is the brightest witch of her age - a cocktail that would make anyone doubt themselves. 

3) What kind of clothes does your character wear? Why? The way you dress says a lot about who you are. For instance, If a character wears designer clothes and the latest fashions, it shows that they have the means to keep up with the trends. However if they wear a medley of things bought second-hand, or buy cheap stuff from supermarkets, they might not have the money to spare on outfits, or maybe they just don’t care about fashion.

4) How does your character speak?  Speech patterns have origins. An accent, language, a dialect, all signify geography, social class, personality. It could be as simple as cussing too much. But be sure you know why your character speaks the way they do. And if it’s not a speech pattern you’re familiar with, do your research!

5) Likes and dislikes I sometimes give characters specific likes (”I like tomatoes”) or specific dislikes (”I dislike eggs”), simply because it humanises them. You don’t have to do this, or be as specific as that, if it doesn’t serve your story. But it’s definitely something you can consider. Everyone has those little things they love and hate, and you can go places with them. (”I hate eggs because my childhood bully threw an egg at me and scarred me for life.”) Be creative and have fun with it.

6) Who does your character love? Romantic attraction isn’t necessary to create a wholesome character. Nevertheless, if they are in love with someone, be sure to understand why they love someone. Love is at its best, a complicated emotion difficult to break down, but a relationship has to be believable. As a reader, I need to be able to look at a couple and think, yeah, I can see what their love is built on. 

7) What would their favourite songs be? This is not so much a question as it is a trick I use to get a better feel for who my character is. No matter what time period your story is set in, you can use this to understand your character better. Take your playlist and pick what songs they would enjoy. It says a lot about who they are. For instance, one of my characters would enjoy Western classical music and nothing else. Another character listens to the worst kind of pop and loves it. 

8) How does your character react under stress? Can they cope with it? Do they get tense? Angry? Teary? Why? Why not? How a person deals with stress is a vital part of their personality. Decisions taken under stress can be the worst you’ve ever made, or (depending on how you handle stress), can be effective solutions to problems. The way a person reacts to stress often has a lot to do with their background and upbringing. Example (this is a generalisation, of course): someone who comes from a difficult family background may have more extreme reactions to stress than someone who is well-adjusted and comes from a happy family. 

9) What does your character do when they’re alone? You’re often a different person alone than when you are with other people. The pretences and false faces come away, and all the little thoughts you usually ignore now have time to play in the open. Who is your character when they’re alone? What do they do? What do they think about? Why do they think about/do things in that way?

10) Where does your character fail? Characters must have flaws to be compelling. Nobody is perfect, and your character shouldn’t be either. Whether its insecurity or anger, or a lack of initiative, or smaller things like not being a good artist, or not being the best at sports–we all have personal failings and we all have things we aren’t good at. Consider: where does your character mess up? 

I hope this helps! Remember to have fun. Developing characters can be the most exciting thing. Keep an open mind while working. Happy writing! 

Make fun of my kid? I'll get you back somehow.

So I am not sure if this belongs in @prorevenge, sense it wasn’t planned on my part. It kind of just fell in my lap. Feels more than petty, so here I am.

For a bit of background: My next door neighbor is/was a college student. She lives with our actual neighbor, her boyfriend. Typical crazy college kid. Weekend parties, drinking on her patio all hours of the night, and weird hours. You know the drill. I figured she was trying to experience college life, so why not? You do you lady!

Anyways one summer night last year she was sitting out on her back patio with her girlfriends doing their drunk thing. I am out wrapping up on some stuff with my toddler daughter. She at the time had a medical thing going on that caused her to walk a little weird. Nothing life altering and something that would heal with time. She did have a weeble waddle to her, especially when running. Sometimes she would fall right over. She was out running around with the dog and the ladies next door were waving and telling her how cute she was. All good.

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Twenty things I’ve learned in Twenty Years

1. Life will break you down until you’re crawling on your hands and knees, until you feel like you are Atlas holding the world upon your shoulders, until you feel like the raging inferno inside of your chest is going to combust. These are the moments that will forge you in a fire and make you more unbreakable than diamonds.

2. We are made of stardust, at least that’s what they say. I remember someone told me that every atom in my body once belonged to a star that exploded. At night I stare at my hands and wonder when I will erupt. I know now that I cannot trust anyone else to keep me whole in the darkest hours of the night but my own two star infused arms.

3. You will fall in love, and that is okay. Sometimes we need to fall in love to remember that there is good out there. Fall in love with the boy who opens the door for you, fall in love with your boss who works too hard, fall in love with the woman who hands out roses on that one street corner, fall in love with yourself.

4. They weren’t lying when they said we accept the love we think we deserve. I grew up being told I was a mistake and so I adopted the idea that no one could ever love a mistake. I was wrong (they were wrong) and now it’s up to me to prove them wrong. Don’t believe the things they said, you are so much more than the toxins they tried to poison you with.

5. Close your eyes, count to ten, and open them again. You are not alone. I know it may feel like you are the only one, but believe me when I say that you aren’t. I was where you are, and now I have talked to more people that have been through much worse than I than I would like to admit to. You are never alone, not really.

6. Music can save. Play it as loud as you can with the windows down as you drive (probably a little too fast). Play it while you are at work and while you are in the shower and play it when you want to give up in the middle of the day and when you want to give up in the middle of the night. Just play the music that tugs at your heartstrings, it may save you.

7. Nothing in life is easy, not really. You will catch a few breaks here and there, but the rest of the time you will find yourself fighting tooth and nail to make it back to the top. Don’t give up, I almost did this year and if I had I wouldn’t be able to witness what the sun looks like shining in her eyes.

8. You will have scars, and that’s fine. We all have them but it’s up to you if you want to hide them or show your battle wounds to the world so they know how strong of a warrior you are, so they know not to fuck with you.

9. Watch the sunrise, and watch the sunset. There is something about the sun that screams life; let the light bleed into you and consume you until you shine with it. Sometimes it’s the simple things we are missing in life that we need the most.

10. They will say they love you and then they will turn around and break your heart. You cannot compare your life’s worth to the empty spaces that were once filled around you. People will leave (willing or not) and life will go on. Let life go on.

11. If you are under the impression you are broken, then it is up to you to decide if you are or not. It took me years to admit that I was never quite whole, but when I did it was the most freeing feeling ever. Brokenness does not take away from perfection, and you are the very definition of perfect.

12. It’s okay to let people in, you don’t need to cage yourself away from the rest of the world, don’t forget to live your life while you pursue safeness.

13. Hobbies will save you when all else fails you, find a hobby and stick to it. When the world feels all too loud, a hobby can make you go deaf.

14. The moment you realize Wonder Woman or any other superhero you idolized as a child is not going to swoop down and save you is when your life changes. You have to be your own hero in this world. Stop waiting for someone to save you and go save yourself.

15. They are gone, she took her own life and he died in a car crash and she died from cancer and he left. You cannot live your life counting how many people that held a piece of your heart vanished, I’m not saying to forget about them I’m just saying that it’s okay to say goodbye.  

16. It’s okay to cry; cry in the shower and in bed and in your car, being sad is okay as long as you don’t let it consume you.

17. Smile as much as you can even on the bad days.

18. For God’s sake, don’t let them ruin you. You are so strong, you’ve made it this far and that means you can make it another day. If you can get through today you can get through tomorrow and every day that follows. If you feel like you can’t get through the day then sit down and don’t move until the light is peaking in through your window.

19. Never say never. If you think you can’t do something try anyway, this is your life, you are the main character of your own story, but you are also the author of your story. Write it however you want, but don’t give up halfway through.

20. Just don’t take your life. While this is something I learned this year I’m also writing this as a reminder to myself and to you. Don’t do it, please. There can be more to life than what you are feeling right now, don’t rob yourself of the beauty of this world. Don’t give up, no matter how much it hurts.
—  An open letter to myself, and to you. (Sometimes I write until I run out of words) ALightLitInTheDark

Ten things to do in 2017:

1. Take it a day at a time. You don’t have to know what you’re doing the next day or even the next hour. I’ve learned that the more you think in the future, the shorter the day seems and the months fly past you and you’re left feeling discontent and unsatisfied. It’s almost like everything has been in a blur, and you find yourself saying, “the year went by so fast”, even though you haven’t accomplished much. So do everything in the moment of ‘now’, and cherish each minute like it’s the last minute you have.

2. Let it go. You know nothing is going to change, because you can’t change people unless they truly want to and you can’t change the past either, and the sooner you realize this, you will spend more time being happy than in a constant battle with your mind and your heart. They need to rest too.

3. Take risks. If you never take any, the moment that turned out for the worst could have turned out for the best. This works vice-versa as well, but either way, you will learn from these experiences. You won’t forget how rapidly your heart was beating in these moments and how electric you felt. It will be worth it in the end, trust me.

4. Call up that person that you didn’t spend enough time getting to know, simply because you were too distracted with somebody else or just didn’t feel like you’d become something more than acquaintances. Greet strangers and embrace the idea of diversity. Ask questions about different cultures, morals, ideas, beliefs; educate yourself as much as you can.

5. Go ahead and wear that outfit you keep telling yourself that it doesn’t look good on you. You bought it because you liked it, yes? So, show it to the whole damn world. If you do it with a smile and confidently squared shoulders—even better. You are beautiful.

6. Instead of procrastinating and wallowing in self-pity, get up and do something. Sitting around is not going to do much but make you feel horrible, and you’ll create scenarios that may not even exist or be as big in your head that will cause matters to become worse. You want this to be your year of explosive progress? Set goals and strive to achieve them. You want to look back at the end of the year and say, “I did good”.

7. Spend more time with your family or friends. Build a support system so strong, that you will never feel lonely. In fact, this support system will lead you to feeling content even when you are alone, because you won’t feel the constant need to either be with someone or have somebody who loves you, because you know you’ll have people who love you and the more love you surround yourself with, the easier it becomes to love yourself too.

8. Be kind always and be angry when you need to be. Stand up for the ideas that you believe in and don’t back down from them just because you have a different opinion. Learn to love the sound of your voice when it bounces off the walls of a classroom full of people, because your voice has the power to change a million minds. Remember, you are allowed to feel whatever it is you feel.

9. Go on more road trips or just take a few minutes to be outside by yourself. Inhale and exhale the air around you. Watch the stars, the sunset, the sunrise, the birds flying in the sky, the cars passing by. Walk in the rain sometimes without an umbrella, instead of running. Let the sunlight soak your skin more often. God, isn’t the world itself beautiful?

10. Be faithful. This is the year you hoped to be better. Don’t let anything stop you from achieving that, because you are limitless as long as you believe yourself to be.

—  Ten things to do in 2017
I'll protect you with everything I've got - Langst mini fic

Summary: Lance isn’t known for giving up easily so when he looks at his team and thinks he’s the most useless one, it’s no big surprise that he will do everything in his power to change that.

Even if it means he has to sacrifice himself for the greater good.

There are nights when Pidge’s headphones aren’t available for Lance. Sometimes it’s because they are uncharged, other times it’s because someone else is using them. Those are the nights when Lance has to make up for the lack of sound with something, so he usually ends up staring at the ceiling and thinking about his current situation.
Thing is, thinking is good, but thinking too much is dangerous.
It’s in one of those nights that Lance reaches the conclusion that he’s the most useless one in the team and nothing is able to take that idea out of his mind for days after. He sees Shiro talking with Allura about plans and strategies, Pidge and Hunk figuring out more and more about the mysterious alien technology, Keith training and becoming even better than he already is. And then there’s him, doing some unfunny jokes and failing at flirting.
A burden.
So that’s what makes Lance move from spending those nights staring at ceiling to spending them training with the castle robots. It’s hard at first, to trade his sleeping time for hours in various simulations, but he tells himself his improvement will be worth the effort. His improvement will pay for all the sleepless nights and for the pain of the injuries he collects.
He doesn’t talk to his team about it and convinces himself is because he wants to make a surprise for them and not because he doesn’t want to admit his uselessness. Maybe they were just waiting for him to realize so they could talk about replacing him with someone more qualified. Although space isn’t always the best thing, Lance doesn’t want to be replaced. He doesn’t want to go back and tell his family that he failed at something he was supposedly born to do. It’s better if the team doesn’t know.
But the universe doesn’t like Lance that much and after two weeks,Keith is the first one to find him
“Lance?”
It surprises Lance enough to make him let his right side open and of course the robot uses it to its advantage. Lance hits the ground three seconds later, a yelp escaping his lips.
“End training sequence.” He says and can’t help on how defeated his voice sounds. He looks up to see Keith staring at him, a confused look on his face. “Hm, hi Keith”
“You are…training?” Keith asks and Lance flinches at his voice tone. Keith speaks like he doesn’t believe in what he’s seeing.
Like he doesn’t believe Lance is doing something useful.
“Well…yeah"Lance says as his answer. He’s still on the ground, looking at Keith at an awkward angle. Stopping made the ache on his muscles finally surface and Lance wants to use every second he has on the floor to rest a little. “I couldn’t sleep”
“So you came here?” And there’s that voice tone again. Lance doesn’t quite know if hearing Keith talk like that makes him sad or angry.
“Yes.” Lance makes a movement to sit so he can look at Keith properly. His bayard has already deactivated, so he only puts it on his lap as he crosses his legs. “Is there a problem?”
They stare at each other for some seconds and Lance feels his shoulders getting tense. Keith occupies the position of most unpredictable person Lance has ever met and he never fails to honor that title. That said, Lance shouldn’t be so surprised when Keith manages to surprise him again.
After those few seconds of staring, a smile appears on Keith’s face.
A smile.
“Nah” Keith answers and the smile is still there. “It’s good to know I’m not the only one training a little bit more”
As soon as those words leave Keith’s mouth Lance feels a warm feeling going through his body and he knows it isn’t only because of the exercise he was doing a few moments earlier. Not that Lance is ever gong to admit that hearing those words from Keith made him feel good about himself. That secret was going with him to his grave.
“But don’t train too much” Keith continues and the smirk has left his face to make room for a more serious expression that looks a lot like the ones Shiro pulls when he’s explaining plans. Lance wonders if Keith heard those same words from Shiro some time. “You need your rest too”
“Afraid I’ll be sweeping the floor with your face in the near future?” Lance says but there’s no heat behind his words.
And Keith (Keith!!) chuckles.
“Terrified” The red paladin answers and the smile is back.“But for now” Keith walks to where Lance is sit and extends his hand. It’s a gesture Keith has never used with him and it’s kind of weird but Lance accepts the help anyway. “Let’s see what you are capable of”
Lance smiles at the invitation.
(They end up beating the levels 4 and 5 of the training program and this time Lance isn’t half dead when he tells Keith they make a good team)

For the next two weeks or so, everything is fine. The results of Lance’s extra training start showing and he gets a compliment from Shiro on his good work (Lance was ready to die from happiness) It’s a good feeling, to know he’s a good soldier.
Thing is, training with Keith is good, training against Keith is like asking to have his ass kicked. No matter how hard he tries to get better, Keith still wins. Every single time. And that’s not all. He sees Hunk’s aim getting better, the way he now manages to control his heavy gun like he was born to do it. (Maybe he was. Maybe all of them were born to be paladins. Not Lance, though. He wasn’t born for something that big.) He sees how Pidge can now come up with a plan in a matter of seconds, sees how Shiro uses a confident and firm voice tone to guide them through battle. Lance is good, of course he is. But not good enough. Never good enough.
All the useful things he has to offer can be covered. If he was gone, the team wouldn’t lose much. Long range fighter? They have Hunk to make up for it. Strategist? Pidge. The mood is bad and the team needs to cheer up? Both Shiro and Hunk can help. And then there’s Keith, who is better than Lance in every way possible so there is no need to elaborate things too much. The only things the team would lose for real if he wasn’t there would be his pathetic puns and pick up lines.
It’s only later that he realizes that actually no, those two aren’t the only unique things he has.
Thing is, Lance is tall, thin and has long arms and legs. He’s fast and he’s agile. His reaction time is on point. Sometimes, his body moves faster than his mind.
Lance is the perfect human shield.
The idea hits him like a slap to the face. Is that why Blue chose him? The more he thinks about it, the more sense it makes. He’s there to protect his team. To protect his family.
And that’s what he’s going to do, at all costs.

without really meaning it

The Way You Said “I Love You” Prompts
@stileslydiah requested “24. Without really meaning it”

Watching Derek dote on someone is hard – harder than Stiles thought it would ever be, despite the fact he knows it’s insincere; despite the fact it’s the job and nothing more.

 It’s hard because Stiles hasn’t had those arms around him in months, hasn’t had opportunity to arrange a chance meeting on a crowded street in weeks, hasn’t had Derek’s eyes meet his and watched his mouth curl into a smile for him.

 Derek’s team have been fairly indulgent, letting Stiles tag along on the assignment to observe and allowing him to blend with various crowds just to be close to Derek. Early on, before Derek insinuated himself into their mark’s life, they even allowed them to talk on the phone, but that might as well have been in another lifetime.

 Sometimes, Stiles hates his job, hates Derek’s job, hates the fact they’d never have met if it wasn’t for their jobs because then he can’t hate it as much.

 Stiles is across the restaurant and he can’t tear his eyes away from the back of Derek’s head for more than a few seconds at a time, usually at the prompting of the agent he’s sitting across from.

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🎶🎶When You Collect Records🎶🎶
  • Hipster: *moves dusty old boxes out of the way* Whoa, an old record player. It looks like it's in working order too! *runs outside*
  • Hipster: Yo, dad!
  • Dad: What?
  • Hipster: We're getting rid of all of poppop's stuff, right?
  • Dad: There's something you want, isn't there?
  • Hipster: There's this old stereo record player in the attic.
  • Dad: What do you need a record player for?
  • Hipster: My record collection.
  • Dad: I didn't even know they still made those things. Can't you just listen to music on your phone?
  • Hipster: Dad, there's a big difference between listening to music digitally and on record.
  • Dad: Fine, I don't wanna get into it with you right now. You can take the record player. You just have to get someone else to take it to your place for you. My truck's full.
  • Hipster: Thanks dad! *smooches dad on the cheek*
  • *later at hipster's apartment*
  • Friend: So, like Patch Adams ends with Patch Adams half-naked in front of a ton of people. I don't know if it was meant to be funny or like a weird sex thing, but like the movie was just a deeply disturbing character study. I can't stop thinking about it.
  • Hipster: That sounds boring. *unlocks door to apartment* Ta-da! Here it is! My new record player!
  • Friend: New? Looks fucking old to me, dude.
  • Hipster: Well, it is old. That's the appeal. And we're going to listen to the new Sufjan record on it.
  • Friend: Is that actually how you say Sufjan? Apparently, I've been pronouncing it wrong this whole time.
  • Hipster: Well, you won't after this record. There's an entire track where he just says his name for four minutes. It's amazing. *plays records*
  • Record Player: *coughs* Hello. Hello! Where am I? Doctor? Hello! Why is it so dark...............................Can I breathe? I can't breath. Oh god, I'm not breathing! Oh god, oh god, oh god, oh god, oh god! I.....................................
  • Hipster: Uh, that's not Sufjan.
  • Friend: It totally isn't. Is it some guest vocalist? I like the new direction he's going in. No instruments or singing, and long stretches of silence. Very experimental.
  • Hipster: *stops record player* I think maybe we should do something else for now.
  • Friend: Fucking lame! I wanted to listen to more Sufjan.
  • *days later at the record store*
  • Hipster: Yo, I think the Sufjan Stevens record I bought from here might be some kind of mispress.
  • Store Clerk: Really? It's a pretty major album. I doubt there'd just be a mispress like that.
  • Hipster: Yeah, but listen to it. It's not Sufjan at all. It's some girl talking.
  • *hipster and clerk listen to a completely normal Sufjan Stevens album together*
  • Store Clerk: What are you talking about? This is definitely Sufjan Stevens.
  • Hipster: Okay, but it wasn't like that when I listened to it at home! I even listened to it with my friend and he heard the same thing!
  • Store Clerk: Maybe there's something wrong with your record player.
  • Hipster: Hmm, maybe there is.
  • *back at the apartment*
  • Hipster: *turns on record player and just listens*
  • Record Player: ...I'm awake again. Why did I black out? Did I even black out? God, I'm not breathing, but it doesn't matter. Why don't I need to breathe? Am I even alive?
  • Hipster: Can you hear me?
  • Record Player: Doctor. Doctor! DOCTOR! Why can't I move? Why can't I feel anything. Keep yourself together. It'll all make sense soon. Calm down. Just breathe deeply. Fuck, I can't breathe! AIIIIIIIIIIIIIIEEEEEEEEEEEEE! I CAN'T BREATHE! DOCTOR! DOCTOR! DOCTOR! HELP! HELP ME, PLEASE! I'M STUCK! I CAN'T MOVE! PLEASE HELP ME!
  • Hipster: *turns off record player* It's just a recording, I bet. I can't believe I talked to it like an idiot... *nervously turns record player back on*
  • Record Player: I blacked out again. I blacked out. For how long? Is there even time here? Hell. This is hell, right? Did I go to hell.........................................
  • Hipster: *listens to the record player for hours*
  • Record Player: Negative 6893 bottles of wine on the wall! Negative 6893 bottles of wine! Take one down, pass it around, Negative 6894 bottles of wine on the wall... fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck! PLEASE SOMEONE HELP ME! AIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!
  • Hipster: *keeps listening*
  • Record Player: Soul of Christ, make me holy, Body of Christ, be my salvation. God, please forgive me. I'm sorry for all of my sins. Please free me. I'm so sorry. Please. Please. Please.
  • Hipster: *still listening*
  • Record Player: FUCK YOU! FUCK YOU! SHITTY DOCTOR! FUCK YOU! LET ME OUT! LET ME OUT! *sobs intensely* FUCK YOU! FUCK YOU! FUCK EVERYTHING! Please just let me go.
  • Hipster: *nervously walks up to record player and lightly taps on it*
  • Record Player: ...A knock. A KNOCK! PLEASE HELP ME! I'M STUCK! PLEASE! *record player begins shake violently*
  • Hipster: *backs away in fear*
  • Record Player: HELP! HELP! HELP ME! PLEASE, IF SOMEONE'S THERE, HELP ME! HELP ME! I'M STUCK! GET ME OUT OF HERE, PLEASE!
  • Hipster: *unplugs record player*
  • Hipster: *gets hammer from the closet and begins to break apart record player*
  • Record Player: *drips red*
  • Hipster: W-What? *cracks front of record player open*
  • *rotting viscera falls from the record player*
  • Hipster: O-Oh... *stuffs viscera back into the record player and duct tapes over it*
  • Hipster: *turns record player back on*
  • Record Player: ...I can feel. It hurts. Why does it hurt now? Why does it hurt? Why? Why? Why? WHY!? WHY!? WHY!? *spurts blood through it speakers and begins to gurgle*
  • Record Player: *hops forward* Please just let me go. Please... please. I'll do anything. I just want to see you again. I'm so sorry. This isn't what I asked for. I'm so sorry. *hops forward again and comes unplugged*
  • Record Player: *tips over, bleeding heavily onto the carpet*
  • Hipster: *silently cleans up the mess*
  • *some time later*
  • Hipster: *calls dad* Hey, dad. Oh, nothing. Uh, I just need to borrow your truck, If not tonight sometime this week. I just need to get rid of something. No, no, that's fine, I can do it myself. Yeah, tomorrow morning is perfect. Thanks Love you too. Bye.
  • *the next afternoon*
  • Dad: So, what did you need to get rid of this morning?
  • Hipster: Nothing important. Just some old junk... Dad, what kind of person was poppop?
  • Dad: Well, he was only the greatest man I've known in my life. Really caring, dedicated to his family. When you were born he loved you so much. He was a bit of a loner, though. It took a lot to get him to open up. Even around me and your grandmother. He was a bit like you. Always a huge music lover.
  • Hipster: I see. Was he ever a doctor?
  • Dad: That's a weird thing to ask. Nope. He hated doctors. Didn't trust modern medicine one bit. It's ironic. His cancer probably wouldn't have gotten to him if he did. But, your poppop was always so stubborn.
  • Hipster: Oh, okay then.
  • *some days later*
  • Friend: New carpet?
  • Hipster: Yup, old one was ugly wasn't it. It was time for a change.
  • Friend: That's what I've been telling you! I'm glad you finally came to your senses. What happened to your record player, though?
  • Hipster: That thing? I threw it away. It was busted.
  • Friend: That sucks. Are you gonna buy a new one?
  • Hipster: No.
  • Friend: But you won't have anything to play your records on.
  • Hipster: Yeah, but I buy records because I want to support the artists. They're not really for listening. Besides, lossless is better. FLAC is the future.

anonymous asked:

Could you write a sterek fic where stiles and Derek are best friends who are pining for each other and stiles has a kid and Derek is like a father to the kid and the kid sees him that way and that kinda inspires stiles to make a move? :)

Hi, I hope you’re still following me, this ask is a hundred years old but I wrote it. I’m sorry, I’m trash! Kisses :**

-

It wasn’t supposed to go like this. Jason just wanted to have a good time with his friends, it was hard enough to convince his dad that he wouldn’t drink more than two beers, and then someone decided to light up fucking fireworks inside Mrs. Evans barn.

“I didn’t think the hay would burn!” Chris cries out and Jason wants to shove a chemistry book on his face.

His dad is never going to let him go out again.

“Oh no.” Alicia groans as the first firetruck comes into view followed closely by a police car.

Shit.

“I was never here!” Jason whispers, hiding behind Luke as soon as Derek steps out of the truck.

“Is there anyone else inside?” All his friends shake their heads and Derek nods, walking towards the burning building. “Erica, go to the back with Isaac. Boyd, you’re with me.” He orders his partners, then turns and stares straight at Luke. “I can see you, Jason.”

“Shit.” Jason mutters. He’s so fucked.


“Is there any chance you won’t tell my dad?” Jason asks, shivering under the jacket Derek gave him. Derek snorts and mutters something that sounds a lot like ‘keep dreaming’. “Please? I can wash your car every week for the rest of my life.”

“You’re going to do that any way.” Derek says. And he’s right, Jason loves Derek’s Camaro. He caresses the leather seat distractedly, looks out the window, his dad is going to be so disappointed. He hates seeing his disappointed face.

When Derek grabbed his shoulder once the fire was completely extinguished and guided him towards the firetruck, Jason thought he was safe. Derek is nice, he’s his godfather, he gave Jason his first beer, talked to him about safe sex after dad freaked out when Jason said he’d been watching porn since he was thirteen. Derek is cool.

Or he was because once they arrived at the station, he practically shoved Jason inside his car, saying he’d drive him home to help his dad kill him. Derek is not his favorite anymore.

“Did you tell him yet?” Jason asks as Derek parks in front of his house.

“No.” Derek answers, turning the engine off. “He’d freak out.” Jason nods, being the only child of a single parent has its ups, but it also has its downs. “Come on,” Derek squeezes his shoulder, “like a band-aid, right?”

“I don’t wanna hurt him.” Jason looks down at his hands. “Chris didn’t do it on purpose, and I – I thought we were only going to have a good time.”

“I know.” Derek says. “It was an accident, it happens. But it doesn’t mean that we won’t worry. We care about you.” When Jason looks up, Derek smiles softly before pulling him into a hug. “I changed your diapers. Unfortunately,” he adds, making Jason snort against his shoulder, “and I taught you how to play baseball. I was there when you broke your arm but sometimes I won’t be, and your dad won’t be either.” Jason sniffs, holds Derek’s shirt with both hands. “But we will always care about you.” Jason nods and they stay like that for a while. 

Okay, Derek really is his favorite.

Keep reading

he likes to read

(this wants with all its heart to be a multichapter fic but i need instant gratification sooo)


He likes to read.

He likes to read and Kent likes him, and he really doesn’t know what to do about this fact.

Kent ran into him – well, ran past him, really – on a morning jog, in a usually deserted area of the community park where trees have been planted and are carefully watered to give the appearance of a verdant, lush grove in the middle of sunny, dusty Nevada. He was standing against a tree and reading, and when Kent jogged back to ask what he was doing, the man laughed and pointed to his book. Walden.

Kent’s never read it. The man shrugs. “It’s about a man who gave up his whole life to go live in the woods,” he says. “I used to go to Walden Pond and re-read it once a summer. But now I’m here and, well… this is as close to the woods as I can get.”

His name is James. He’s a high school English teacher. He shakes Kent’s sweaty hand and asks his name, what he does for a living.

Kent blinks at him hard. “You…” he starts. He was about to say, you don’t know?

“Me? You do me?” James cracks a smile. “Is that a pick-up line?”

His smile is sunny, and Kent breaks a little bit inside. He finds himself quickly enough to say, “Would it work?”

Keep reading

•A JOURNAL ENTRY: WHAT IS IT REALLY LIKE TO LIVE WITH DEPRESSION?•

i wouldn’t exactly call it living. more like surviving… i look at the environment surrounding me, memories lie tattered in my brain. a life i want to believe was once so full and fruitful has become unthinkably dull. my own eyes were once baby blue but have since faded to an iridescently eerie gray. im hurting. it hurts. im not lying.

i would tell you that you don;t understand- but i;ve begin to notice that everything can only be interpreted in relation to other things or feelings. and this is the only thing ive come to recall feeling. this ethereal delicate coldness within my core, shaking and rattling my bones, consuming my every feeling of functionality. im clearly broken beyond repair- yet i aimlessly crave fixture.

i am light with awful lightness. my blood is mud and my bones are brittle. my thoughts freely cascade within my mind, setting fire to all of my precious sensibilities . any meager ration of purpose and hope is replaced by these fucking reminders that i am truly and entirely 113% alone in this.

at one point, i wanted help. i went to therapy once a week- on bad weeks i went twice. i convinced myself that the glass was half full. i made the most out of everything- and in the process, i made a fool of myself.

i spoke out. i cried for help. i wrote it in books, on forums, i would have carved the words “help me” into my damn skin on my damn forehead if i thought for one minute that anybody was listening.

and i know you’re listening if you’re reading this. but are you really reading this? are you reading me? can you feel the pain in the tips of my fingers, in the ends of my hair, in the blood in my veins, in the staggering cry of my voice at 2 in the morning- an ugly face soaked in the tears resulting from years of utter and complete destruction and then desertion of every little thing i feel?

can you feel my pain?

can you imagine trying to fall asleep when there are actual fucking faceless voices in between your ears jabbering an unimaginably taunting cry? whispering demented nonsense into your ears nonstop after you beg and plead with yourself to quit hearing those damn voices. your mind races like it’s been training all its life and this is the moment it has all led up to: the olympic event of self destruction. and it’s taking home the gold.

i close my eyes and i am so unbelievably tired. staying alive is a fight and today it has beat
me to a pulp. my eyes have bags as big as my regrets and my face is tired from
pretending to light up with joy all day.

jesus christ, it’s my junior year and i’m graduating in less than a year. surely there is one thing to even half way grin about. no, you are wrong. because for every good little thing that happens- every time it seems like it’s getting better, every false sense of hope, for every good thing, there is depression.

my false sense of hope has found its home. depression is a polite host to every single good
feeling in my body. depression feeds me, it cleans me, it loves me, it speaks to me, it knows me.

depression wants to stay forever. it houses in my bones, it feeds on my fears, it gets high on my anxiety, it exchanges hope for hopelessness, it thrives on my insecurities, and depressions favorite thing to do is to keep me up on nights like tonight, where i’m at my worst.

i’m scared, truly. i used to be obsessed with the seasons- more importantly, the transition of one season to anther. perhaps i used to be so fond of change because change was actually a possibility at that point in my life.

winter turning into spring was my favorite. i would lay on the dead, crunchy, brown remnants of the grass, the air around me crisp and cold, stabbing my lungs with every swift,
sharp breath. my nose rosy and cold, sniffling along every chill within my body. bare branches of tall oak trees
stretched into the white winter sky, seemingly reaching for the sunlight the tree craved and needed, as my pale, cold, minuscule hands clutched at the dry, barren earth beneath me- fumbling for more meaning of the world around me. why must seasons change, but my heart always feels the same?

you see, i resonate so very deeply with the winter months. gardens and patches of land that were once beaming with flora and fauna, life and expounding sunlight and warmth, now lay isolated, empty, sterile- similar to the child in me that once was jubilant and lively, but now turned into some thing so cold and ugly. the innocence has beend lost and the happiness within me has since been destroyed by the monster within me, which claims not only me as a victim, but those around me who love and care about me

i only know that i am loved and cared for because i’m continuously and perpetually told this upon a daily basis. it has become very prevalent to me that people feel much better about me when i validate that i know that they are here to talk and that i am loved. yes, i know this. but i cannot feel it. the love that you have for me is, in the least offensive way possible, absolutely irrelevant to my entire being.

you could listen to me rant for days upon weeks, you could read this bible that i’m typing. but i can never seem to make the people around me realize that i am never going to truly accept the love they offer me.

i often wonder if it is true love that inspires people to be there for those with depression- or if those surrounding me simply feel compelled to profess their love and support to me because they see my approval and wellbeing as a direct reflection of their credibility as a friend or family member.

i feel as if i am a burden to those around me, simply harshening the seemingly good mood that literally everyone else but me is capable of partaking in. i want to run with wild horses, frolic among wild flowers, hear the laughter of a child, hold hands with someone i love, and entertain deeply fulfilling and life changing relationships- but you see, the way my life is set up- i am actually emotionally incapable of doing so!

i am most aware of my unfortunate illness and incapability to be happy in the most unexpected and irrational times. take birthday parties, for instance. celebration and good vibes fill the air around me, seeping into my black, pitiful lungs. everyone around me smiles and sings, drowning in their jubilation, as i sit and watch. i want to have fun. please believe me. i want to sing happy birthday. i want to watch you open your gifts. i want to be as happy as you. i want to feel the warmth in my cheeks as i have the time of my life with my friends. but some thing within me compresses each and every slither of joy i am capable of feeling. i am suffocated by the downfall of my emotions and i am blinded by the reminder that depression doesn’t take breaks, not even at birthday parties. depression is strongest whenever you are faced with situations that expose you to the reality that you’re the odd one out- you’re sticking out like a sore thumb. you’re moping and you’re constantly staring out into space. what are you even looking at? what do you have to think about? you have nothing to live for, so anything beyond what’s right in front of you has no relevance in this whole scheme of life. so take it or leave it. you should be enjoying this birthday party. all the other kids are happy. you should be too. you’re lucky you even left the house today. so lucky. had you stayed home, you would have been 100% alone with your thoughts, rather than 97% along with your thoughts, due to the constant interruption of your moping and resentment by peers and parents and teachers asking “is everything okay?”

habitually, you nod. yes. everything is fine. i’m doing well, thank you. but what is the meaning of life? why do i feel like there’s a big fat man sitting on my chest and stomach and heart all the time? why do i always feel like i’m the only one in the room holding back tears trying not to cry? why are the other kids so happy? am i missing out on some thing? why do i feel so sad? why is it that every time i’m surrounded by people who say they love and care for me, i feel as if i’ve never been more alone before in my life? why? do you pity me? it’s just who i am. is that weird?

and oh my god i was always so desperate to be different. perhaps it was just the way my personality was set up. and i was always fairly extroverted. but it was presumably a persona that i put on. hey world, look at me. i’m silly and creative and ill say things that nobody else would say. pay attention to me, look at me.

because i needed them to watch. i hope you never feel so out of control of your body as me, to where you feel as if the only way that you can be saved is if other people figure out that you’re dying on their own. you don’t know how to come straight out and tell them, “hey, i really would rather not be alive at this given moment. i have visions of ending my own life. i use self isolation as a coping mechanism at times in order to feel like less of a burden on those who love me. i haven’t felt genuinely loved in a really long time. i’m so lonely. i could really use a friend right now.”

you can’t just say that. and i became depressed at 9 years old. how would a 9 year old even possibly articulate these complex and life threatening emotions that severely alter the way that every one of their peers perceives them. those middle years are crucial for making friends. it’s at that age that you have to find a group of 3 to 8 people who accept at least half of your given characteristics and occasionally invite you to partake in shit that kids do.

i wouldn’t know. i was a fleeting spirit. appearing and disappearing from cliques like it was clock work. there was more than one willow. there was the catty, witty willow- that found self-approval and approval from others by teasing and belittling others in order to build her own confidence up. then there was the sweet, flower child willow that sold daisy chains on the playground at recess at the price of one hug. there was the willow that stayed near the teachers at times because it was obvious that the other kids wanted nothing to do with her.

and as time progresses, the newer evolution of willow became prevalent. the willow that kept to herself most of the time, spending recess in the class room alone, drawing on the pages of her books, talking to herself, worrying her life away. everyone wondered - what was wrong with willow? or perhaps nobody noticed at all. maybe i was so insignificant even at such a young age- that the only time people considered me was in my dreams.

depression changes a person. some times, the change isn’t even tangible or noticeable to those surrounding the victim. some times, it is a slow discourse of the destruction of the spirit. it can slowly creep into your ear one ungodly night, and forever more whisper its awful lies into the victims ear, as it infects their whole body, their heart, their mind, their spirit, their hands, their eyes. everything. it slowly progresses into the uncontrollable loss of feelings and motivation to even maintain basic proper hygiene. it makes everything feel pointless. things are no longer worth the effort because you’re going to die no matter what, and that can’t come soon enough.

yes, depression can be slow and progressive. but that’s not the worst. the worst depression is the kind that sneaks up on you out of nowhere in the dead of night and immediately stiffens every hair on your body and turns your blood cold, making your mouth dry and your tongue numb. this depression hits you like a fucking train. it hits you in your most vulnerable state- comfort and normalcy. from that point on, you will never know normalcy again.

depression has a way of deceiving you into believing things that are crazy and untrue. but these things become so real to you as the depression progresses into a lifestyle that you come to know nothing else but the lies that depression will fill you with- so nobody can really tell you anything. it will call you names. it will tell you that you’re better off dead. it will be your only comfort- feeling nothing- during the night, whenever anxiety holds you until you pass out from exhaustion. you will never be cold at night as long as anxiety and depression have you snuggled up in between them.

oh how depression loves to kick you around and belittle you. oh how it renders your fantasies pointless. it loves to keep you hostage- to the point where any time you get an idea that doesn’t include moping around in your own sorrow, it immediately renders that idea impossible and reminds you that you are depressions bitch. you eat when depression finishes telling you how fat and disgusting you are. you sleep all day, so depression can take a dip in your nightmares. you wake up, and realize that life with depression is the true nightmare after all.

you pray for the day that you are relieved from this blinding madness and this subliminal torture. you feel as if you are not only a burden to your own self, but a burden to the people who love you and care for you

the only times when depression allows you relief from questioning the ulterior motives of those around you who claim to love you and care for you is when depression instead allows you to feel ashamed of your affliction. when you’re depressed, people notice. they may pretend not to and they may ignore it. but they know. they just don’t know what to say.

what would they say anyways?

hey. i’m sorry your brains are figuratively dripping out of your ears and i’m sorry that you have convinced yourself that i only care about you because i feel guilty, and i’m also sorry that you don’t even have the motivation to take a shower. i’m also sorry that you don’t
remember the last time that someone made you feel special. i’m sorry that you can’t find a reason to smile. i’m sorry that out of all the millionaires, the talented ones, the ones who fall in love, and the ones with nice asses- you were the one to end up hating yourself and everything around you.

ask yourself…. what do you say? what do you say to someone who is depressed?

know that i understand that you don’t know what to say. because yes this sucks. and i don’t expect you to understand what it’s like to wish you were dead. and i am so jealous of you for that. but please treat me the same as everyone else. please love me. make
me laugh. invite me to go shopping with you. get shit faced with me. help me fill the gaping hole in my soul with pointless memories of laughter and small talk. talk about life with me. listen to what i have to say. let me love you.

yes, i have depression. trust me, i will never forget! but please, help me feel normal. i don’t want to feel different than you. i want to be your peer, not your charity case.

i am dying to make friends. i am dying to spend less time in this bed writing shit like this. i am tired of letting this god damn disease walk all over me like i’m a fucking patch of dead grass.

life sucks. but please remind me that winter fades to spring. please remind me that some flowers are seasonal, and not every flower spends its whole life in bloom. remind me that you have to spend time in the dark to understand just how beautiful life in the sunlight is. remind me that there’s no cure for a bad day like a strawberry daiquiri and deep, controversial conversations with complete strangers.

remind me that my car has a sunroof and that it’s okay to open it up and let my hair get a little messy. remind me that music is better when it’s too loud to really interpret what the artist is saying- but you don’t have to understand to feel some thing.

remind me that i don’t have to lose this fight.

i am fucking hurting. but for the love of god, i’m begging you to help me fix me. because i forget that there’s good in the world. i forget that depression isn’t the boss of me. i forget that i have the whole world in my hands. i forget that there’s life after high school and that it’s okay to be alone some times, but it’s never okay to be lonely.

i will never forget what it is like to have my heart ripped out by a disease that i can’t even lay my hands on. perhaps i can touch the blisters under my eyes from
crying so much. perhaps i can run my hands along the holes i’ve punched in the walls from being so angry with myself. and yes i can feel how my bed is sinking in towards the ground because i spend so much time laying here trying to feel some thing besides utter destruction and loneliness. i can never forget what this disease has done to me. there will always be a piece of my heart that this depression has stolen from
me.

but with loving other people, i can aimlessly work to mend that hole. i can’t do it alone. i need a friend. i need you here with me.

i am so tired of being alone.
i will push you away at first. i may come off as helpless and a bitch. but please, that is the depression talking. it’s not willow.

willow loves the color pink
willow loves wild flowers
willow loves the smell of green onions
willow loves the feeling of sand under her feet
willow loves hearing about your childhood and how you had a speech impediment and a cat named angel
willow loves the smell of rain when it hits a hot sidewalk
willow loves to go barefooted
willow loves establishing connections with animals
willow loves willow, some times she just can’t see it

i need a gentle reminder of what it’s like to be a real normal teenage girl

this shit is hard. and being misunderstood makes it harder.

so i’m saying it loud and clear. my name is willow and i have clinical depression and generalized anxiety. my life has been a series of almost laughably awful events, which have resulted in said mental illnesses. i have been misunderstood, bullied, neglected, and hurt. but my story does not end here. i may never completely overcome my depression, but i will overcome my failure to acknowledge my illness. i will work to educate people about those who suffer as i do. i will help those with depression. i will be the friend that i have never had, but always needed, to anyone who wants it. i will be a testament to the depression that has oppressed me for 8 years now.

depression is not who i am. depression does not define me. what defines me is the fact that i am staying alive even though it is proving to be the biggest struggle that i have ever encountered, and i am asking that you help me and people like me. because it’s not a one person job.

my name is willow. and i’m telling you that depression is a rude ass bitch. but i’m a bigger bitch, and unlike my illness, i have the power to make people feel loved and valid. and i will use that power to overcome my depression.

i would like to dedicate this journal entry to everyone reading it. i may go to school with you, you may be just a random tumblr user, you may suffer with depression, you may suffer with some other deeply oppressive situation, you may just be a happy son of a bitch.
it doesn’t matter who you are. let this. journal entry be a testament to your life.

there are people with depression. and there is no way that i can ever explain to you just how it feels via tumblr text post or even via socratic seminar complete with gardens of text books and instructional videos. all i can say is that in this life, you are responsible for being there for the people around you.

you never know what someone is going through. people with depression practically have licenses and 4 year degrees in the field of putting up facades of being okay and sucking it up and repressing those explosive emotions. they don’t expect you to give a shit about them, because as far as they’re concerned, nobody has given a shit,
nobody currently gives a shit, and nobody ever will give a shit about them. they make it hard to help. but it’s so important that you break down those walls. and some times, all you need to do is smile at someone or invite someone to eat after school or to go to a party. you can’t do much for someone with depression. like i said, they’re a whole world away. their concerns and struggles are immaculate, indescribable. however, it doesn’t take much to show someone that you care even a little bit. even if it’s just picking and giving them a random flower.

if you suffer from depression or know anyone with depression and you need someone to look to for advice/help/inspiration, my DM’s are open. oversharing is caring. i know what it’s like to want to take your own life, and i fought the urge to do so even while writing this journal entry.

i am here for you. you are not by yourself. please DM me if you ever need someone to send you pictures of a cute animal to cheer you up, or if you even need me to talk you out of suicide. i know both feelings.

if you’re reading this,
i challenge you to go out of your comfort zone. yes you. i challenge you to do this one easy thing at either work or school, or out in public or in your family

1. pick 3 flowers, they can be store bought or you can have picked them yourself

2. give one flower to someone who you worry might have depression

2. give one flower to a random person who you don’t know

3. give one flower to a person you would like to get to know better, you never know when someone desperately needs a friend


it’s just a flower, but you could save someone’s life. some times, all people need is a gentle reminder that good things still exist and that somebody is thinking about them.

don’t be the person that assumes too high of a role or makes an excuse to not be able to participate in this challenge or share this journal.

you never know when you can save someone’s life.

remember: no matter who you are, i love you. and i am willing to comfort you in times of need. i’ve been where you are. and i know how much ass depression sucks.

my DM’s are open, and so is your future.
don’t end your story this early.

—  Willow Scalisi 4/18/17 (dam i just realized sonic got half priced burgers today, turn up)
7

Mark: Whether I’m gay or not has no reflection –

Owen: No, it does. Just listen –

Julia: I don’t think that you have ownership of horror of this crime.

Owen: Can I just say, I find this, I find this astonishing.

Julia: I’m not Jewish and I’m not gay, I’m not French, but I still am equally horrified by these crimes.

Owen: This was a – I’m being yelled at, which is incredible.

Julia: Stop talking so [we hadn’t do].

Mark: That’s the headline: ‘Isil wages war on gays in west’. Now you share that view, that basically this was deliberately targeted on one part of the community rather than the freedom to enjoy yourself no matter what your sexual orientation is.

Owen: What are you talking about?!?

Mark: I’m talking about the coverage in the newspapers.

Owen: It’s not some abstract, kind of, he just picked a random club out of nowhere. He picked a club because it was full of people he regarded as deviants. That’s why he attacked the club.

Julia: It’s a hate crime, this is an act of terrorism, it was an attack on gay people, absolutely, it was horrific. However, my mind guesses this man probably would be as horrified by me as a gobby woman as he would – genuinely, genuinely – this is the thing. We don’t know right now. We can speculate, but we don’t know how much of this is motivated by just his homophobia.

Owen: We heard from his own father about his revulsion – why are we trying to deflect? Why are you both pick-

Mark: We are not trying to deflect. We are trying to reflect what is being said by the authorities here and –

Owen: Can I ask, what argument are you trying to pick here?

Mark: I’m now going to quote from what The Telegraph is saying…’his father said…[he] may have targeted the gay community after becoming angry when he saw two men–’

Owen: ‘May have’? He did! Why are you saying this?

Julia: ‘After seeing two men kissing in Miami some months ago’ – he may have been angered by many other things since then!

Owen: I’m sorry. I just find this the most astonishing thing I’ve ever been involved with on television. If he’d walked into a synagogue, and massacred dozens of Jewish people, you wouldn’t be saying what you’re saying now.

Owen: This bizarre attempt to deflect from this –

Mark: We are trying to draw parallels in terrorist attacks on people who are being attacked whether they are enjoying rock music in Paris, whether they are gay people in Florida enjoying a night out.

Julia: I completely accept it, as [Mark] does, that it was a homophobic attack, but for me the issue is there are going to be homophobic people, there’ll be people who hate black people, or who hate gay people, or hate Jewish people. There are going to be people, who are lunatics, who are fanatics –

Owen: Who are “lunatics”! Stop using these words, Julia!

Julia: Is it possible for me to finish one sentence?

Owen: If you stop using words like “lunatic” to talk about homophobic terrorist attacks!

Julia: Well thank you. Whoever these people are, and whatever their motivations are, the key thing is we’re always going to have mad and bad people in the world.

Owen: Mad and bad people. Okay.

Julia: And the key issue is, that they can’t do too much or any harm. When you have free access to assault weapons in a country like America, then they’re able to put their hatred of other people –

Owen: Yes! Obviously!

Julia: – into effect, and do damage. That’s the issue for me.

(discussion between Mark and Julia on gun control and the U.S. …Julia: It is absolutely absurd, if America were not going to do something about gun control after Sandy Hook in 2012, if you’re going to watch six- and seven-year-olds being massacred and you don’t think you need to act, they are never going to act.)

Mark: There’s something else here in The Telegraph coverage, which I think we need to bring up, Owen, in relation to your point. And that is, I think that we’ve got at least a call from a spokesman for Stonewall saying that people would be feeling vulnerable, and basically indicating –

Owen: Oh, you’re going to have an LGBT voice talking about it. Interesting.

Mark: Sorry?

Owen: Nothing, carry on. Go on.

Julia: Owen, seriously.

Owen: I’ve had enough of this. I’m going home. Sorry. No way.

Julia: Owen, genuinely, we’re trying to have a civilized conversation.

Owen: I know you’re having it, I don’t want it!

Julia: I know you’re upset, you’re very upset –

Owen: Yeah, I am, I’m very upset. I’m very upset.

Julia: Everyone’s upset and angry about this, but storming off a TV set –

Owen Jones, Mark Longhurst, and Julia Hartley-Brewer discuss the Pulse nightclub shootings, 12 June 2016

Prompt List #1
  1. “Do you like them?”
  2. “I trusted you.”
  3. “Who do you think you are? The Queen of England?”
  4. “God, you’re pretty.”
  5. “You finally woke up, good dream?”
  6. “I’m not saying anything, every time I say anything you think i’m attacking you.”
  7. “Calm down, it’s just a chocolate bar!”
  8. “Why are you looking at me like that…?”
  9. “Wait! Stop!”
  10. “Please tell me you brought a toothbrush?”
  11. “We’re in the middle of nowhere!” 
  12. “You take the bed, you need it more than me.”
  13. “You want to set up camp? It’s been a long day? Here’s as good as anywhere else.” 
  14. “I’m not getting involved, this is between you two.”
  15. “How do you want to do this?”
  16. “You’re ridiculous”
  17. “You’re so warm!”
  18. “You’re freezing, jesus!”
  19. “You want to go trick or treating? Seriously?”
  20. “I’m sorry….”
  21. “I’m (First Name) Fucking (Last name)!”
  22. “You owe me one”
  23. “You always look beautiful.”
  24. “That looks like it hurts…”
  25. “Do you need anything?”
  26. “Hold on. You’re telling me that you want to go out to the creepy woods in the middle of the night on a full moon? Really? Really?”
  27. “We walk in together.”
  28. “This is my collection”
  29. “Be quiet! You’ll get us caught!”
  30. “How would you feel if it was you?”
  31. “You’re hands are so small!”
  32. “I brought you a muffin. You’re favourite…”
  33. “Sometimes I just want to cuddle, okay? Is that so bad?”
  34. “Now I know where half my wardrobe went.”
  35. “I’m fucking terrified and I don’t know what to do or how to stop feeling that way, okay? I’m scared…”
  36. “Here, let me just-”
  37. “You’re right…”
  38. “Nothing about us is conventional”
  39. “I need to make an entrance.”
  40. “Just..just smile and don’t talk too much”
  41. “You’re really special to me.” 
  42. “No more stupid stunts, please?”
  43. “You scared the shit out of me!”
  44. “How do you feel?”
  45. “Damn…I really thought that would work.”
  46. “Stop! Just stop!”
  47. “That tickles!”
  48. “I didn’t mean it like that! Stop making everything I say dirty!”
  49. “I can’t believe you just said that!”
  50. “Why are you naked?”
  51. “I am so sorry! I’ll just…I’ll just go…”
  52. “I’ll just wait here…”
  53. “Do I have to?”
  54. “Don’t point your wand at me!”
  55. “Exams are going to kill me.”
  56. “I don’t want to be alone.”
  57. “It’s not supposed to be easy…”
  58. “Are you proud of me?”
  59. “You’re so drunk.”
  60. “Please tell me this is a joke!”
  61. “What is that?!”
  62. “We only have one room left for the night…”
  63. “Room service?”
  64. “I can’t believe you eat pinapple on pizza…what sort of monster are you?”
  65. “I’m getting married? Since when were you choosing my future spouse!”
  66. “We all fuck up sometimes.”
  67. “Sometimes it just all gets to much, y’know?”
  68. “Naps are life, okay?”
  69. “I don’t think I could love you anymore than I already do.” 
  70. “If I marry them?”
  71. “You’re my fake husband/wife/spouse, deal with it.”
  72. “I kept every letter…”
  73. “You missed the best fight!”
  74. “Do you remember high school? When Lisa McKendrick got pregnant with Rob whatshisface and Maria was sleeping with Rob and her and Lisa got in that fight? That was…”
  75. “I have to live with what i’ve done.”
  76. “I had the weirdest dream….”
  77. “Who did the laundry? My favourite shirt is pink.”
  78. “I got you a trophy, it’s only plastic, but it’s for being the best human I know.”
  79. “Another bad date?”
  80. “Someone keeps leaving love notes in my locker and I’m not sure if I should find it endearing or creepy…”
  81. “Hello ms./mr grumpy.”
  82. “Do you want to wake them up or…”
  83. “Can we keep them?”
  84. “Look at you!”
  85. “Did you just whistle at me?”
  86. “Remove the hand before I remove it for you.”
  87. “I love your voice”
  88. “Put me down! I can walk!”
  89. “I need you…”
  90. “Can…can you come over?”
  91. “Where were you?”
  92. “This is the. Best. Thing. Ever!”
  93. “I mean witchcraft isn’t quite hocus-pocus, toil and trouble, type deal y’know? There’s some serious work involved!”
  94. “You’re the best.”
  95. “Can you please stop biting your lip…it’s distracting.”
  96. “You’d make the best boyfriend/girlfriend/wife/husband/partner”
  97. “Oh who cares what they think!? I want you!”
  98. “Backseats aren’t as comfortable as movies make them out to be”
  99. “Can I please see some photos of you when you were younger? How bad could they be?!”
  100. “And i’m dead.”

{Feel free to reblog and use yourselves. You can request prompts with these if you want to, but it’s first come first serve as I’ll only use each prompt once. As per usual you can always send in your own made prompt or ask me for a random prompt since I have a large collection of other peoples prompts for that.}

Taehyung trying to tell Y/N he likes her (FT. BTS ruining the mood {FLUFF})
  • Taehyung and Y/N are seated on a blanket in the middle of the living room for a picnic Tae set up.
  • Taehyung: So Y/N, we've been friends for a while and I've been wanting to tell you... I-
  • Jungkook: Hey guys what do you think of my new hair color?
  • Y/N: Aww Kookie! I love it!
  • Taehyung: Yeah it looks great. Now go show Jimin.
  • Jungkook: Okay.
  • Jungkook goes off to find Jimin.
  • Taehyung: As I was saying, Y/N, I love being friends with you but I want us to be m-
  • Hoseok: Have you guys seen Joonie?
  • Y/N: He went to the covience store?
  • Hoseok: oh yeah? We were supposed to go out. I guess I'll just wait for him with you guys.
  • Hoseok plops down on the blanket and squeezes in-between Y/N and Taehyung.
  • Y/N: So Taehyung what were you saying?
  • Taehyung: Umm.. I.. I-
  • Jin: I smell food.
  • Yoongi: Is that a picnic? Why wasn't i invited?
  • Hoseok: Don't feel too bad, I invited myself by sitting down.
  • Taehyung: Actually this is only supposed to be for Y/N and-
  • Y/N: Of course you guys are welcome to join us!
  • Yoongi sits down next to Jin who has already begun digging into the food much to Taehyung's dismay. Jungkook runs back in
  • Hoseok: So Taetae, what were you going to say to Y/N?
  • Taehyung: ....
  • Jungkook: JIMIN IS DEAD TO ME!
  • Jimin: Kookie you are being dramatic.
  • Jungkook: Don't call me Kookie! You said my hair looked "OKAY", what does that even mean?
  • Jin: (Mouthful) That's harsh Jimin.
  • Hoseok: Yeah, below the belt.
  • Jimin: UGH!! It just means in looks fine.
  • Jungkook: *Cringes
  • Yoongi: Wow, that's just cruel Jimin.
  • Y/N: Yeah, seriously Chim, who hurt you?
  • Taehyung: Look Jungkook your hair isn't that great but since you are so sensitive, Jimin, just apologize. And Hoseok I think Namjoon said he wants you to meet him downstairs so just go already. And Jin and Yoongi, please find something to do with your lives anywhere else but here!
  • The members scatter out of the room mumbling;
  • Hoseok: Could have said something earlier..
  • Yoongi: And I though Jimin was rude.
  • Jin: Sheesh, I was just hungry...
  • Jimin: And they thought I was rude..
  • Jungkook: (Voice -breaking, tears streaming) Sensitive? Pshh? What's that? Sensitive.
  • Now its just Tae and Y/N
  • Y/N: Tae, are you okay? That was kind of rude.
  • Taehyung: (Sighs) I know its just they were intruding and I needed time alone to tell you..(Sigh)
  • Y/N: Tell me what?
  • Taehyung: Nothing just forget it.
  • Y/N: Well, I have something I want to tell you too. I love hanging out with you but I don't want to hang out as friends anymore. I like you Tae.
  • Taehyung: Are you serious?! Y/N, I've been trying to tell you that I like you!
  • Taehyung pulls you in for a hug.
  • Jungkook returns.
  • Jungkook: Sorry to interrupt but, do you really not like my hair because I need to knowwww.
  • ~Armygirl
He loves to talk, but not all the time. He tells me that talking doesn’t mean anything unless it’s worth ruining perfect silence. Most people, he says, waste their breath on everything that means nothing. But he likes when I talk. About the people in the coffee shop, and old cities I wish I’d been to, and which constellations I like best. About anything, really. We talk until the sun rises, and then we sleep all day. And we sing loudly when our favorite songs come on the radio, and we let our hands drift out the window like soaring birds, and we live. God, we live. Like addicts, and nomads, and kids with wicked minds and screaming hearts. Half the time we don’t know what day it is, but we don’t care. Because his bed feels the same on Monday and Thursday and Saturday, too. And we eat when our stomachs grow too loud, and we press close when we can’t pay the electricity bill, and we learn that sometimes what is perfect and what is enough live oceans away from each other.
     But when enough becomes too little and we don’t even have our two pennies to rub together, he performs on the street with an upturned top hat at his feet. Old, bluesy songs about wild girls and townie boys. And even though his voice is only ok, with cracks in all the important parts, people see his long hair and his big smile, and they stop to watch with enormous eyes. Look, they point: a boy who never learned how to worry playing at maturity, his face bent over a guitar, long fingers threading the strings. They stand on the streets, a cigarette break from their white collar routine, and see in him some other life. Some different path. They see themselves, a little happier, a little louder, a little more carefree. The kind ones wish him well as dollar bills float from their hands. Fives and tens and twenties from those who would do everything differently if they had another shot. One man with a fading ring tan above his left knuckle gives him a crisp hundred dollar bill, his face lost in thoughts of what might have been. Transparent. He’s like that with people: prying them open without even trying. He sees through them, and you, and even me. Especially me. 
      We lay in bed that night surrounded by paper that will only pay a fraction of our bills, but we laugh like we’ve won the goddamn lottery. Laugh so hard we can barely breath. I laugh until I cry, and he holds me in his hands and tells me that when he has the money, he’ll buy me a ring and make this whole shindig official. My voice raw with tears, I tell him he better.
     And he has the warmest hands with callouses on all the fingertips, which I don’t think anyone else knows. Not like I know. Not like they feel them against their palm and cheek and thigh in the middle of the night. I like that I hold a million tiny fragments of him that no one else has even touched. Like he calls his sister twice a week to make sure she’s not using again, and he only watches scary movies because they make my blood flow faster, and he’s an all consuming, thousand-watt, stars in his eyes kind of person. The kind people want to be around without ever knowing why. The kind who tells you he loves you and really means it.
     He only says it sometimes. When it’s just us two and the perfect silence is worth being broken. And I trace road maps across the skin of his back, and I wonder. I wonder what I did to deserve all this. The affection, and the easy smiles, and the list of kid names we like tucked away in his desk drawer. Shuffled between coins and nicotine gum. And then his breath is heavy in my hair. I never fall asleep before him because I don’t know how to stop thinking. I wonder and I wonder and I wonder how I ever thought I’d be better off on my own. And he pulls me closer. Whispers my name like a promise. All the world stands still for just this moment. And I wonder how a person- one single, broken person- can come along and make so much sense.
—  I hope you find this kind of love, and I hope you never let it go.
Only You

Prompt: First Love, Sasusaku Month Day One

Summary: When Sasuke and Sakura realise who their daughters first love was and in the process find out about eachothers. (Post Gaiden)

“I think Sarada has a crush on Boruto.”

Sasuke has always taken pride in being a careful person, he’s rarely the kind to let things fall from his only hand and even if on the off chance something does, his reflexes are fast enough for him to catch the item before it hits the ground.

But when Sakura walks into their house after a long shift at the hospital to make one of the most ludicrous announcements he’s heard in a while he can’t help but drop the stirring spoon he held in his hands.

“What?”

His voice is silent and deadly. On a normal mission it’s enough to paralyze whoever is on the receiving end in terror but Sakura simply laughs it off, her husband hardly looks threatening in his his homely blue apron which matches the head band that thier daughter had helped him tie to keep the hair out of his face.

“I’m going to kill him.”

“Oh darling I think you’re over reacting.” Sakura states as she wraps her arms around his waist and stands on her tip toes so that she can peer over his shoulders to see what he’s making (it’s Sarada’s favourite sweet dish) “I think it’s cute that he’s her first love.”

Sasuke sighs, his immediate plans of killing a certain blonde haired idiot (No, not that one, his son) subsiding.

It’s easy to give into his wife in moments like these when they are alone. He knows she’s tired, the soft yawn she tries to stiffle as she presses her cheek to his back is a testament to that.

Sasuke doesn’t have the heart to break out of her grip for he knows that at times like these when Sakura is tired, chakra depleted and cold he’s her favourite pillow.

He’d never admit it out loud but he was quite proud of that particular designation.

Plus it’s not like he’d actually be able to wriggle out of her embrace considering her ungodly strength.

Besides the more time he’s given to think, the more painful he can make that moronic brat’s death.

He suppose Sarada would be mad at him for the first couple of days but he was sure she’d get over it after he taught her a new jutsu.

Sakura hums softly as he stands there letting his brief spike of anger simmer down along with syrup he’s stirring to her soft tune. It’s a lullaby she’s humming, one that he’d sung once to her during her pregnancy days when she had trouble sleeping. It’s the same one Itachi used to sing when he was a child and it’s calming effect still holds true after all these years.

“Darling.” Sakura starts,“Who was your first love?”

Sasuke blinks, all his creative plans to kill Boruto brought to a abrupt stop by her sudden query.

“What do you mean?” Sasuke’s voice is harsher than he means it to be and while he tries to convince it’s because something is stuck in his throat he is well aware that it’s just an excuse to cover up the fact that he’s the slightest bit hurt that even after all these years the answer is still a mystery to Sakura.

“Oh!” She says jerking away from him, her hands falling away as she steps back. Wide veridian eyes stare back at him as he turns around to face her, irritated that she let go.

For a moment she stands there still before she starts stuttering out,“I-I’m sorry. I didn’t realise. I didn’t mean to pry- I was just curious and-”

“Sakura.” He interrupts,“What are you talking about?”

She blinks,“Your first love, she was an Uchiha wasn’t she? I’m sorry I didn’t mean-”

“What gave you that idea?”

She blinks up at him. Even after all these years there are some insecurities she can’t shake off. It this habit of hers that bothers him the most, maybe because every time she displays her unsurity about their relationship Sasuke is overcome with a tidal wave of self loathing for he knows that all her insecurities stem from the fact that he’d treated her like crap through out the course of their childhood.

“I just thought-” she sighs breaking off,“Never mind.

“Tch. Annoying.”

She lowers her head,“You’re right that was a stupid.”

He lets his lips curve into a small smile, amused by her reaction. For some reason he never gets tired seeing her like this; embarrassed and shy.

It’s one of the more contrasting things about his wife because while she’s one of the strongest people he knows, nothing less than deadly in battle, she’s also one of the kindest. As a kid he never believed one could be both, strong and kind but in the past fifteen years of their marriage Sakura has spent everyday of it proving him wrong.

While she’s kind to everyone she meets, this side of her, the one where she’s shy and unsure is reserved only for Sasuke and he isn’t ashamed to admit that, that’s just how he likes it.

And that’s why he loves teasing her at times like these because he’s the only one who can and get away with it.

“Who was your first love?“ He asks nonchalantly.

Sakura looks up at him incredulously.

“What?” She asks,“ Is this a joke?”

Sasuke simply shrugs as he turns away from her to add the finishing touches to his dish.

Her eyes are defiant as she pokes her head into his line of sight,“I’ve loved you since we were five years old I’ll have you know. It might have been a superficial crush at first but I’ve only ever liked you.”

“Only me?” Sasuke says as he pours the contents into a bowl,“That’s hard to believe.”

Her eyes narrow,“If not you, then who? It’s only ever been you.”

“Not even Lee when he saved you during the Chunnin exams?”

“No.” She replies,“And if you recall I hugged you then and not him.”

“Not even Naruto when you kissed him?”

“That was CPR by the way.” She counters,“And you kissed him too. Twice.”

“Kakashi?”

“Are you kidding me?” She started,“That’s ridiculous.”

“Sai?”

“Where are these names even coming from?” She huffs,“ This is-”

Before she can finish, Sasuke quickly bends down and brushes his lips against hers shocking her into silence. It’s an awfully short kiss and when Sasuke pulls back he smiles as he looks down at his wife’s closed eyes and puckered lips.

“For the record you were the first and only person I’ve ever loved.” Sasuke states.

Her eyes flutter open and she stares at him confused for a moment before her mouth forms an ‘oh’. Then her questions begin,“Really? How? When? I thoug-”

“Sakura.” He cuts her off giving her a look.

“Right. I’ll shut up.”

“Good, then it’s easier to do this.” He leans down and kisses her again.The tips of his fingers graze against her skin as he cups her cheeks and lifts her face towards him his lips moving against hers effortlessly.

While Sasuke is a reserved man, there is absolutely nothing reserved about his kisses.

Sakura still remembers the first time Sasuke had kissed her she’d felt all her unsurity about their relationship melt away. While his kisses are commanding, they’re all consuming and absolutely and completely honest. He leaves no room for her to doubt his feelings for her because the way he kisses her always makes her feel like he’s laying his soul bare for her to see. Only her to see.

Because in the end for both Sasuke and Sakura it had only ever been each other since the very begining.

Sakura is about to wrap her arms around his neck and pull him closer to deepen their kiss but Sasuke abruptly breaks away once again leaving her hanging.

Sakura pouts as Sasuke starts walking towards the living room. She can’t see the smirk on his face but she knows that he’s thoroughly enjoying messing with her.

“You don’t play fair.” She grumbles as she follows Sasuke.

He sits on the couch and gently pats his lap. Sakura happily bounds towards him, her complains forgotten and takes her place on the couch by lying across it with her head resting on his lap.

They stay like that for a while as Sasuke reads a scroll regarding the latest details of his mission and Sakura stares up at him carefully memorizing all the details of his face for she knows that when he’s gone it’s these moments she’ll cherish the most.

“You know we both married each other’s first love.” Sakura comments offhandedly,“Do you think Sarada will do the same?”

“The brat won’t live long enough.”

Sakura snorts,“You’re not going to kill him, Naruto will never let you hear the end of it if you do.”

“I can handle the dobe.”

“You’ve been trying to get rid of him for eighteen years now, how’s that working out for you?”

“Tch.”

“If you actually consider it, it’s kind of cute really.” Sakura continues,“Naruto and Hinata’s son with our daughter. Plus Sarada is really open about her feelings too. I thought she’d be like you and be in denial about it for at least five years.”

“I was not in denial about it.”

“If I was your first love that means you must have loved me since we were genin, right?” Sakura prompts,“And you were pretty much an ice cube those days.”

“I wasn’t in denial, I just didn’t show it.”

“So you were in love with me since we were genin.”

“Sakura.”

“Okay fine, I’ll drop it.” Sakura relents,“So anyway today I heard her and Choucho talking about Boruto and that’s how I gussed. They were fawning over how his blonde hair catches the sun rays perfectly and-”

Change of plans, Sasuke was going to first torture the brat and then kill him.

“- just how mature and responsible he is-”

When did he brat become mature and responsible? Just the other day he remembered his daughter complaining how childish and careless the dobe’s son was.

“- how his blue eyes pop perfectly against his white clothes and-”

Sakura stopped abruptly when she saw the look on Sasuke’s face.

“What’s wrong?“she asks lifting herself up from his lap and turning around to face him properly.

“The brat kid only wears black.” Sasuke deadpans,“His training clothes are black and pink.”

“Then…..” Sakura trails off as realisation dawns on her.

For a moment they stare at each other, green against mismatched black and purple.

The next second Sakura is up and Sasuke is right behind her, heading for the door.

“I’m going to kill the dobe.” He mutters poisonously as he opens the door.

Sakura brushes past him,“Not if I get to him first.”

All the way across town in the Hokage’s office, Naruto sneezed.
______

I’ll be honest I really want to see Sasuke appear in the Hokage’s office with his apron and matching headband and beat the hell out of Naruto with his stirring spoon.

Why are dragons for children and why can’t I identify with them?

I’ve seen more and more posts claiming that aces and aros have “stolen” dragons from children. That we’re corrupting dragons some how with our dirty a-spec ways and sexualizing a children’s toy, essentially.

Two things are assumed with this:

  1. That dragons inherently belong to children
  2. That a-spec individuals identifying with dragons somehow perverts the concept of dragons

I take great issue with the thought that dragons are for kids. Not just because they are, often, violent creatures that level cities and horde possessions. No, my issue is with the connotation that surrounds labeling something as “for kids.”

The connotation surrounding a “for” label are very simple. If you are not included in that label, it isn’t for you. If something is “for women,” the thought is that it isn’t for men too. If something is “for dogs,” it isn’t for people. And if something is “for kids,” it isn’t for adults.

Dragons being “for kids” is part of a larger issue. This idea stems from the larger marginalization of fantasy as a genre being “for kids.”

Ursula K. Le Guin says it best in Why are Americans Afraid of Dragons? This is a study of why adults (all around the world mostly in industrialized places but looked at from the American perspective here) distance themselves from fantasy as a genre and put it down as “for kids.”

Dragons shouldn’t be considered just for children. That stems from a larger issue and fantasy isn’t just for kids. Much of it is quite mature in content.

So, how are a-spec people that identify with dragons stealing them? The real question is, why are adults giving them to children in the first place? Dragons are an important part of so many cultures. They represent things spanning from evil and greed to benevolence, bringers of life and rain to protectors of women. Essentially all civilizations have some sort of dragon myth.

The dragon is such an interesting symbol, too. In so many myths, they kidnap virgins and a hero must rescue the maiden; he often then marries her and removes her maidenhood. Snakes often symbolize sex and sensuality (how many times have you seen a boa across a woman’s naked breasts, preserving her modesty but still suggesting sensuality? often with female singers) but dragons, connected with the concept of serpents, are complicated.

Dragons have this inherent sexuality implicated and what do they do? They kidnap and protect virgins, despite not being able to do anything with them.

A-spec people don’t need to “pervert” the dragon. They’ve always had a tumultuous relationship with sex. And I think it’s pretty understandable that an a-spec would look at these creatures, who have a connection to sex but also stand apart from it, that protect this concept of virginity (that can also be looked at as sexlessness, or a lack of sex), that can do nothing with their horde but still cherishes it… that a-spec people would look at this as see parallels. Make connections.

How is it wrong to associate with something? How is it perverse or theft or corrupting? Dragons are complicated multi faceted creatures.

So are the a-specs that identify with them.

audreycritter  asked:

I'm on mobile, and I don't know if this is where you usually take prompts, but I'll request Tim and Bruce. Bonus points if it includes the line, "One of us is going to have to sleep eventually."

This is officially my favourite thing I have ever written. Thank you so much for the prompt :D

They’re at a stalemate, have been for days now. All because Bruce had dared to suggest Tim stop drinking coffee and get some sleep. A reasonable suggestion, Alfred had assured him, since Tim is, after all, only fourteen years old and much too dependant on caffeine to keep him going than anyone should be. Unfortunately, Tim hadn’t seen it that way.

No. Tim had slowly lowered his newly-filled coffee cup from his lips and stared at him until Bruce had shifted uncomfortably. Then he had smiled sweetly and asked mildly, “Are you going to take your own advice?”

And that’s where Bruce went wrong, Alfred was quick to point out six hours later when he came down to invite them up for breakfast. Because he should have just said yes, poured his own coffee down the sink and gone to catch a few hours sleep between his thousand-thread-count sheets. But he didn’t. Because Bruce is a grown adult dammit. And more than that; Bruce is the goddamn Batman. He couldn’t just give in to the sass of a teenager, even if that teenager is a sleep-deprived, more-caffeine-than-blood Robin. 

His second mistake had been saying something of that effect to Tim, who had rolled his eyes and taken another gulp of coffee before stating that he wouldn’t stop drinking coffee, nor would he sleep, until Bruce did so as well.

So here they are.

Three days later.

And Bruce is beginning to regret his entire life.

(“Nothing new there,” the painfully Jason-like voice in his head snorts.

Bruce reminds himself hallucinations are normal after forty-eight to seventy-two hours with no sleep.)

“One of us is going to have to sleep eventually,” Bruce sighs. He runs a hand through his hair, looking sidelong at Tim’s equally mussed locks.

Tim takes a pointed sip of his lukewarm coffee. “I vote you.“ 

From somewhere in the depths of the Cave, Alfred sighs and mutters something about stubborn fools. Followed a moment later by a louder rumination about good role models. Bruce chooses to chalk that one up to auditory hallucinations; Alfred generally prefers to give useful yet sarcastic advice to his face.

"Don’t you have school?” he wonders in Tim’s direction, sure the boy had vanished form the cave for several hours each day but not entirely sure that’s where he’d gone. “Don’t your teachers ever question why you look so exhausted?”

The teen glances up from the case files he’s poring over to give Bruce a flat stare - he wears the expression so often Bruce is beginning to think it’s just his resting face. (You know, if he ever rested.) “Yes. And I tell them it’s because the hours I should be spent sleeping are spent running across Gotham’s rooftops in tights,” he deadpans.

Bruce blinks.

Tim blinks.

Alfred sighs. Bruce knows it’s definitely real this time because he’s suddenly standing behind them with a tray “More coffee, sirs?” he offers drily. “Or have you seen sense yet?”

Tim takes a mug and sniffs it warily, nose crinkling in disgust before he hastily sets it back on the tray. “That isn’t coffee, Alfred, it’s decaf.” He sounds so outraged that Bruce laughs. It may or may not be a touch hysterical.

“I’ll have you know, Master Timothy, that you’ve been drinking decaf for the last two days.”

“Hah!” Bruce points a mocking finger at his young partner. “Alfred wins.”

“I wasn’t aware I was even playing,” Alfred comments over Tim’s indignant, “You’ve been drinking it too!”

That makes Bruce pause, his sleep-deprived mind working over the facts of the Case of the Decaf Coffee. He frowns into his near-empty mug as realisation washes over him. “We both lost,” he tells the unfaithful liquid. It ripples ambiguously.

“I’ll just get a blanket then,” Alfred is saying, “Perhaps a pillow as well…”

And when Bruce looks up, blinking sluggishly, several minutes have passed and Tim is fast asleep, as though the very suggestion that his bloodstream had no caffeine in it was enough to knock him out, head cushioned on his folded arms, an errant sticky note stuck to his ear. Bruce reaches out to poke him just to be sure he isn’t foxing, but his hand doesn’t quite make it, flopping onto the table and brushing Tim’s fingers with his own. Then his eyes slide shut and he too is asleep.

(They find out several hours later - at a more reasonable hour of the morning - that not only did Alfred win, he cheated. The last mugs of coffee were laced with a mild sedative. Bruce can’t even bring himself to be more than a little irritated because at least Tim finally slept.)

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It’s Girl’s day~ Kou started a chain of tweets….along the way the Sakamaki brothers started blackmailing each other aaaaand we ended with Kino (/)u(\)

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anonymous asked:

Hi! Can you do RFA reacting to MC on her period/trying to hide her period from them? Thank youuu!

Oh my gosh periods are the absolute worst. This one was still a lot of fun to write so thank you for requesting it! I hope that you like it!! :3 


Yoosung

  • You and Yoosung both finally had a day off together and deiced to sleep in
  • You woke up before Yoosung and felt his arms wrapped around you and you snuggled into his chest
  • But you felt something wet down by your legs and carefully moved the blanket away to see that your period had started and bled through your sleep pants onto the bed sheets
  • Completely embarrassed, you shook Yoosung violently telling him to get out of bed
  • “Wah what’s going on MC?” A very confused and sleepy Yoosung asked as you kicked him out of the bed
  • You didn’t respond, only blushing bright red as you carefully moved the blankets so he couldn’t see the mess
  • But Yoosung caught a glimpse of bright red blood on the sheets and his eyes went wide
  • “MC are you okay?! Did you hurt yourself?! Should I call a doctor?!” Yoosung asked as he started panicking
  • You sighed saying “I’m okay Yoosung, my period just started. Sorry about the sheets, I’ll clean them up right away.”
  • As you tried walking away, Yoosung grabbed your arm and hugged you, rubbing your lower stomach
  • His mother and sister made him learn about how much period cramps could hurt and how women could become very emotional
  • So to your surprise, Yoosung knew exactly what to do and treated you like a princess
  • Yoosung threw the dirty sheet into the washer and quickly put a new one on so that you could lay down
  • He told you that he had to make a quick stop at the store and when he came back, he had pads and tampons, heating pads, your favorite snack foods, and a new movie for the two of you to watch
  • Yoosung took such good care of you that there was hardly any pain and lots of comfort, making you not worry about period pains ever again

Zen

  • The two of you decided to go on a date night to see a movie that Zen made a cameo in
  • You two were able to snag the last two tickets, much to Zen’s delight
  • Just as the two of you were about to enter the theater, you felt something off
  • You told Zen that you had to use the bathroom quickly and when you got there, you found out that your period had started
  • The emotions were already getting to you as you felt yourself start to tear up
  • You left the bathroom trying to think of an excuse for only you to head home so Zen could enjoy the movie
  • As soon as Zen saw you, he noticed something was off and asked “What’s wrong babe?”
  • You burst out in tears and whispered to him that your period has started
  • Zen immediately goes into protective boyfriend mode and walks behind you so no one can see any blood coming through as he leads you to the car
  • The entire ride home you were crying and told Zen between sobs “I-I’m so sorry that I ruined our date night.”
  • He honestly couldn’t believe that you could become so emotional just because of your period but he shushed you saying “It’s no problem at all MC. You can’t control it and we can have our own fun date night together at home.”
  • Zen carried you inside bridal style and helped you clean up then laid you on the bed as he got you some pain medication
  • You were completely exhausted and Zen completely understood so the two of you ended up cuddling for the rest of the night until the two of you fell asleep
  • When you woke up the next morning, you found Zen in the kitchen making breakfast a a bouquet of your favorite flowers on the table along with some heating pads
  • Zen really was the best boyfriend ever

Jaehee

  • The two of you went to a fancy restaurant to celebrate your anniversary 
  • It was the first time either of you were able to go to such a high-end place so it was an even more special night
  • You and Jaehee were killing it in your brand new dresses and you both looked like goddesses
  • But when the two of you were seated at your table, you felt what you only assumed was your period start
  • Panic built up inside of you, it was such a special night and you didn’t want your period to ruin it for Jaehee
  • So you sucked it up and decided to pretend like nothing was wrong
  • But you and Jaehee were together for a reason because she knew within a couple of minutes that something was up
  • You were getting increasing hot to the point of sweat dripping down from your forehead and the cramps started to come
  • When Jaehee saw you wince in pain and hold your stomach, she knew that your period started
  • So Jaehee helped you up and lead you back to the car while you apologized profusely
  • When you two got home, you nervously asked her “Was I really that obvious Jaehee?” as you got out of your dress and into more comfort clothing
  • Jaehee giggled and made you lay down as she got you a heating pad and said “Sort of. But what you had were pretty similar to my own period symptoms so I knew. And don’t worry about tonight, I’m always happy as long as I’m with you MC.”
  • You smiled gratefully at your amazing girlfriend The two of you spent the rest of the night cuddling and watching Zen’s musicals on DVD
  • You both ended up falling asleep in each other’s arms, with you feeling a lot less pain thanks to Jaehee
  • You were so grateful that you had someone else who understood the struggle of having your period and you made a mental note to take extra good care of Jaehee when hers started

Jumin

  • You had convinced Jumin to go out on a simply yet fun ‘commoners’ date with you
  • The two of you went to a local park and packed a picnic and the day had been going well, you and Jumin talked about your future together, stared at the clouds, and even made him laugh at a couple of your jokes
  • Jumin seemed to be having such a good time that you felt like nothing could possible ruin your mood
  • But Mother Nature had different plans
  • You were laughing at one of Jumin’s attempts to make a joke when you felt your period start
  • To make matters worse, you were wearing a light colored dress making the blood stand out on the back of your dress Jumin noticed you looking uncomfortable and asked what was wrong
  • “My um period started Jumin.” You said awkwardly to Jumin You attempted to stand up but you could already feel the cramps coming on
  • Jumin noticed the back of your dress was staining with blood so he quickly wrapped his jacket around your waist to hide it and walked you over to Driver Kim
  • He had never dealt with women on their period before but all Jumin knew was that you looked like you were in pain and he needed to stop it
  • So when the two of you got back to the penthouse, Jumin cleaned you up and made you lay down in bed with him calling out to the chef to make your favorite meal
  • He laid down next to you and gently rubbed where your cramps were hurting telling you sweet words of encouragement to try and help you feel better
  • You eventually fell asleep and woke up a couple of hours later to see Jumin curled up next to you sleeping
  • The cramps were almost completely gone so you settled yourself back into Jumin’s arms
  • For a guy who’s never experienced a girl with her period before, Jumin sure knew what he was doing

Seven

  • Seven had been working hard the past couple of days making you extremely bored
  • You were laying on the couch, mindlessly playing on your phone when you felt something seep through your pants
  • You groaned as you saw that your period had started
  • Luckily none of the blood had gotten on the couch so you quickly passed Seven’s work room in order to get a new pair of pants
  • You were in the bathroom trying to clean the blood out of your pants when you heard the door open
  • “Aw my poor MC’s period started. Come on I’ll clean those up later, you need to rest now!” Seven said as he dragged you into the bedroom
  • “But how did you know Saeyoung? I’m sorry I know that you’re busy working and it’s so embarrassing.“ You said as Seven tucked the blankets around you
  • He smiled and kissed your forehead saying “I’m the Defender of Justice MC! I know everything! But seriously I keep track of your cycle so I always know when you’re due to start.”
  • Seven got you a heating pad and laid down next to you rubbing your back and whispering how much he loved you
  • You fell asleep to Seven’s loving words and woke up the next morning to find a Seven had made you a messy cake saying ‘I love you’ on it as well as some of your favorite snacks and more heating pads
  • You were honestly so grateful for him and gave him a huge hug when you saw him
  • Seven smiled telling you that you deserved it and how he would take good care of you until your period was over
  • “Hey MC quick question, I never looked it up or anything but a period is when you pee blood right?” Seven asked as you were about to cut into the cake
  • Seven was lucky that you loved him and that you weren’t too emotional at that point to punch him
Life Without You (Part Two)

Part One 

Masterlist

As Harry and Niall sat across from each other in Harry’s living room, there was an uncomfortable silence. The tension could be felt by both and was only growing as time passed. From the moment that Harry had called, Niall knew that something was up, and he had wished that he was better at hiding his emotions. His eyes darted everywhere around the room, completely avoiding meeting Harry’s intense gaze. Niall’s leg bounced up and down as a way for him to calm his nerves. He could tell that Harry was upset; he was fuming. Niall couldn’t help but to notice the way that Harry’s breathing was uneven, how he kept clenching his fists, clear indications of his mood. It was obvious Niall already knew why Harry had demanded he come over so urgently- he had kept a very big secret hidden from him.

“When were ya gon’ tell me?” Harry asked, finally breaking the silence.

“Tell yeh wha’, mate?” Niall responded, trying to play it cool.

“Don’ play stupid wit me, Niall. Ya know exactly wha’ ‘m talkin’ about. When were yeh gon’ tell me that (Y/N) moved to America?” Harry was losing his patience, and Niall knew that it wouldn’t be smart to keep pressing the matter.

“It wasn’ my place to say anythin’. She made it clear tha’ she wasn’ changin’ her mind on leavin’. Plus, yeh were still wit Megan when she moved, didn’ think yeh would care to be honest.”

“Are ya bein’ serious right now? Yeh know more than anyone that I will always care ‘bout (Y/N), doesn’ matter who ‘m wit.” Harry growled, gritting his teeth as he tried to contain his anger.

“‘m sorry, ‘arry, but I only did it because she said she didn’ wan’ yeh to know. I couldn’ go behind her back like that, ya understand tha’ right?” Harry felt his heart nearly stop when he had heard this. She didn’t want him to know? It was now clear as day that (Y/N) wanted nothing to do with him, when all he wanted to do was to have her back in his life.

“Yeah, I get it. Would‘ve done the same thing. ‘s just weird how she didn’ tell me yeh know? I thought she wanted to be friends or somethin’.” Harry admitted. His anger had dissolved, and now all he had felt was sadness. He had hoped that one day maybe you and him could start over and be friends or at least civil with each other.

“Who knows. Maybe she doesn’ wan’ to talk to yeh right now. Or maybe she doesn’ want to be friends.” Niall told Harry, trying not to sound too harsh about the possibility of (Y/N) not wanting to speak to him again.

“Suppose so.” Harry said, sounding completely defeated. He was done talking about you, and he wanted to get off his mind, “Man, ‘s trip is gon’ be a disaster, innit?”

“It won’ be. Don’ worry, ‘arry, it’ll be fine.” As much as Harry wanted to believe Niall, he could shake the bad feeling he had in his stomach.

-

San Francisco was absolutely amazing. You felt like an entirely new person. No stress, no worries, and most importantly, no Harry. Life was easy here. You enjoyed living alone in a small apartment not too far from the beach. You enjoyed the beautiful weather as opposed to the cold you were used to living in London for a large majority of your adult life. You enjoyed that there was enough to distract you from thinking about Harry.

You’d asked Niall to let him know that you were moving away, hoping that he would want to at least say goodbye. However, you were only given disappointment as Niall told you Harry said he didn’t care that you were leaving.

At first, you were hurt by what Harry told Niall. It hurt that he didn’t even want to see or talk to you again, but you could understand. You weren’t even talking to each other. Of course he wouldn’t care if you were moving away. You decided to stop trying to fix something that was broken beyond repair and to finally let Harry go. Although, he was acting totally out of character for the Harry that you once knew and loved, and you couldn’t help but to think that something wasn’t right.

-

It had been about four months since your move, and you were really enjoying your new life. You’d made sure to keep in touch with Niall and the other boys. It was nice to know that they still cared about you despite everything that had happened, and they were adamant on making sure you knew that they were here for you. A gesture that was greatly appreciated but entirely unnecessary.

As great as life was, it all changed when the boys had told you that they were coming to visit in two weeks. They said that they missed spending time with you, and they were in need of a holiday. Whenever you had asked if Harry would be coming too, they would completely avoid the question and change the subject. That was enough of an answer for you.

You began to lose your mind upon learning that Harry would also be in attendance while the boys were visiting. You were coming up with a thousand different questions that were all left unanswered. Was he married now? Was he going to bring Megan with him?

As the days came and gone, it got closer to the day where the boys were supposed to fly in. And as the day neared, your anxiety about facing Harry only grew with it.

-

“Don’ worry, (Y/N). Everythin’ will be fine, promise.”  You were currently one the phone with Louis, telling him all about your worries surrounding their visit. You weren’t sure how to act around Harry or how he would act around you. You didn’t know if you should pretend nothing happened and be friendly or if you should ignore him.

“I can’t help it, Lou. I mean, Harry’s always been so nice. I just thought that he would at least want to say bye to me. It didn’t even have to be in person, a text would’ve been fine. He’s completely changed from when we were together, it’s weird.” You were still bothered at the fact that Harry didn’t care that you were moving. It was just something that you never thought would happen. He’s always been the person who was mature, polite, and kind beyond belief. So the fact that he felt that he didn’t have to say bye to someone who he once considered a lover, and before that a friend, was peculiar.

“People change, love. ‘nd sometimes it isn’t the best, but maybe he just thinks ‘s awkward between you two? I mean ‘s a lot of history there. I bet ‘s hard for ‘im to pretend it isn’t there.”

“That’s exactly my point though. Shouldn’t he want to get some closure because of our history? We haven’t really had a decent conversation since I came to get my things from his apartment. Even then, that was almost three years ago, and that definitely didn’t go as planned.”

“I don’ know, (Y/N). I really wish I did, but I haven’t got a clue what’s goin’ through his mind.”

-

It had been a week since you had officially called things off between you and Harry, and you thought that it was time to come and get the rest of the things you had at his place. Because you’d purposely given him a couple days to think everything over and to calm down, you hoped that this entire situation would be more civil than your last encounter with him.

 

You had shot him a quick text telling him that you were coming over, only to receive a notification showing that he had seen your message, but there was no reply.

 

Over the course of the last week, you had slowly built the courage to face him and to talk again, which landed you where you were right now. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t even a little nervous, but you shook the feeling aside, and put on your bravest face. As you opened the front door with your key, you wanted nothing more than for Harry not to be home. If this were the case, you would be able to avoid having another screaming match with him, the last thing you wanted.

 

However, this hope was broken once you saw Harry standing in the middle of his kitchen, fully dressed, looking like he was just about to leave. 

 

“Didn’t think you’d be home.” You admitted, hoping that this conversation would be kept to a bare minimum, “I’ll be quick, don’t worry.” You began to walk out of the kitchen, making your way towards the stairs and into his bedroom, realizing quickly that you were still not ready to face Harry. 

 

Before you even started to walk up the stairs, Harry had stopped you, “Wait, (Y/N). Can we talk ‘bout it? I think I need some closure.” Harry stated, lightly grasping your wrist to keep you from walking away from him for the second time.

 

You avoided keeping eye contact with Harry and instead kept your gaze locked onto where he held your wrist in his much larger hand. You thought that a week was enough time apart, and you believed that you would be ready to talk to Harry. Although, you now know that you were definitely wrong. The moment you had set your eyes onto him, everything from that night had came rushing back. Seeing Harry this soon and having him touch you only added salt to the still very fresh wound.  


”You can talk while I pack up.” You say, practically in a whisper, “I don’t have anything to say to you at the moment.”  You wished that you had the courage to look at him while you talked, but it was just too hard to face the reality of the situation. This was the end of a chapter that you’d both hoped would never end.


”Wha’ do yeh mean ya don’ have anythin’ to say?” 


”What I mean is, there is nothing left for me to say to you, Harry. I said everything I wanted to say that night, and it changed nothing. So why would me repeating the same thing over again change anything now?” Your emotions were getting the best of you. Your voice cracked, and you tried your hardest to keep your emotions at bay. You felt weak, not even attempting to get Harry’s grip off of your wrist. All you felt was sadness, but under that sadness you felt anger. Pent up anger that was finally coming out.  


 “We‘ve both had time to think things over, ‘nd this time I really am ready to listen to yeh. Had some time to calm down too, yeah? If yeh don’ wan’ to talk to me then ‘s fine. I just wan’ to say what’s been on my mind.” The desperation in his voice was obvious. Even though you weren’t looking at his eyes, you knew that they were pleading you to at least hear him out. 


With a sigh in defeat, you agreed, “Fine, but don’t expect anything else except for talking. I’m not going to get back with you just because you suddenly want to talk about our relationship.”  You retorted, finally looking him in the eyes. His face fell slightly at your response, but he reluctantly nodded his head in agreement.


 As you both made your way to his bedroom, it was silent. Harry was obviously hesitant to talk to you, but you couldn’t figure out why. You weren’t sure if it was because he was still gathering his thoughts or if it was because he genuinely didn’t know what to say despite telling you that he had a lot he wanted to tell. However, you chose to ignore it, enjoying the silence because you knew that it wouldn’t last once you both started to talk.


The first few minutes of you packing up the remainder of your clothes and other belongings remained the same. Silence. All Harry seemed to be able to do was watch you gather your things from his position seated at the end of his bed. He wanted to tell you everything that had been on his mind for the last couple of months, especially the last week, but he had no clue how or where to start. His mind was working a million miles a second, and Harry couldn’t even process the whole situation. 

 

“Look, I know ‘s hard to be talkin’ to each other right now, but I just wanted to say that ‘m sorry for bein’ a proper dickhead to yeh that night.”  He felt that the best way to start was to apologize because he knew that the most important thing was for you to understand how sorry he was for putting you in this position.

 

”Harry, I’m just confused. I thought that marriage would be a topic we could talk about, but apparently, I was being delusional and presumptuous.” 

 

”I know, love. I know. I still don’ quite know wha’ I was thinkin’ tha’ night. Should’ve told yeh how I felt about marriage in the beginnin’, but I didn’ and ‘m sorry for leadin’ ya on like tha’.”  There was a long pause after Harry had finished apologizing to you. You had thought that he had more to say than just that he was sorry. An explanation maybe?

 

”Is that all you have to say? You told me that you wanted to tell me everything that was on your mind, so all you were thinking about was a half assed apology?” You were seething at him. Yet again he had failed to explain his feelings to you, even when you had given him the chance to do so. His eyes dropped to the floor, unable to keep eye contact with you. He was ashamed that this was all he had to say to you. Even when there were thousands of things running through his head about what he could say, none of them came out.

 

“I’ve got to go, but if you want to talk about this when you’ve had more time to think, call me, okay?” You softly spoke, calming yourself as you got closer to him. Harry still couldn’t meet your eyes as you talked to him. You stood there for a little while just staring at him, wanting nothing more than for him to stop you from leaving and to give you an explanation. That, however, did not happen. With yet another sigh, you said goodbye and left. 

 

That day you walked out of Harry’s house hoping that one day he would call to tell you that he was finally ready to talk about your relationship, but he never did. 

-

The day that the boys were supposed to arrive in California had finally come. You had told them your address as they were eager to see you the moment that they landed. There was still an uneasy feeling in the pit of your stomach, knowing that you had to see Harry again in mere hours.

You spent the entire day trying to occupying your mind. You vacuumed your house, cleaned all your bathrooms, mopped the floors, and dusted nearly every surface in your apartment. Unfortunately for you, nothing you did seemed to work. All you could seem to think about was Harry. He was making you a ball of nerves, and you hated that he still had control over you.

After all of your pointless cleaning, you plopped down onto your couch and relaxed for a little while before the boys arrived. It was odd to think that Harry would even want to come when he knew that the boys wanted to spend time with you. You had come to the conclusion that he would be spending his time elsewhere, with his other friends in and around the area. That would mean that you would only have to see him for one day, when they arrived. You just wished that day wasn’t this one.

Sometimes you wished that you and Harry never dated in the first place.

-

You didn’t realized that you had fallen asleep until you were awoken by pounding on your front door. As you made your way to the door, you rubbed your eyes, trying to wake yourself up.

“(Y/N), love, we’re here! Open the door ‘fore I break it down.” Niall yelled, sounding slightly muffled as a result of the door. You could hear the other boys giggling at Niall’s comment, and you couldn’t help but to roll your eyes at them.

The moment you opened the door, you were engulfed into a hug by Niall. “Good to see ya, lovely.” Niall said, as he gave you a tight squeeze.

“I’m glad you guys are here. I missed you.”

You could feel a pair of eyes practically burning holes in your head with their intense stare. It was obvious who this was, and you did everything you could to avoid making eye contact. However, you couldn’t help but to notice that a certain girl was not present. She wasn’t holding his hand or cuddling into his side, so where was she? Pulling away from your embrace with Niall, you continued to hug each of the boys one by one, inviting them inside.

Harry stood behind the rest of boys, looking awkwardly at the floor, shifting from one foot to another, suddenly stopping his gaze on you. When it was finally just him standing outside of your apartment, he looked up at you and gave a shy smile. A wave of relief rushed over your body as you realized that he was being friendly. Deciding to return the favor, you gave a genuine smile back and motioned for him to come inside.

You led the boys to your living room where you were previously taking a nap. “Are you guys hungry? Thirsty? I can get you something if you want.” You offered, trying to make them as comfortable as possible.

“Just a couple of waters will do, love. Anythin’ yeh want to give to us ‘s fine.” Niall said, giving you a smile.

“I’ll help yeh.” Harry spoke, swiftly arising from his spot situated on the couch. You didn’t feel like being rude to him, so you simply gave a short nod of your head and made your way into the kitchen, Harry following closely behind.

“How’ve ya been?” Harry started, as he helped you gather a variety of different snacks and water bottles for all the boys.

“Good, stressed, but good. What about you?”

“‘s good. ‘m doing well, thank yeh.” After that, there was a bit of awkward silence as both of you didn’t know what to say. All you could do was pass Harry the food while he made a pile of everything you had given to him on your counter.

Gathering all of the food and water bottles, you started to make your way back to the other boys. However, Harry had other plans as he began to speak again. “Hey, can we talk?” Harry asked you, a slight nervousness detected in his voice.

“We can talk in the living room.” You responding, already feeling the nerves and anxiety start to build up.

“Boys, could you give Harry and I a minute, please?” You requested once you both had gotten to the living room and placed everything on the table.. The boys nodded their heads and got up to give you and Harry the space you asked for. As they left, they gave you reassuring smiles and gave your hand a quick squeeze.

“We’ll go fo’ a walk ‘round the block. Text one of us when ya done, alrigh’?” Louis softly spoke to you. You shook your head at him, not feeling like talking. The boys gave you both one last look before they shut the door and left.

And once again, you were left alone with Harry.

-

You and Harry sat at opposite ends of the couch, staring straight ahead at the wall in front of the two of you. The tension in the room was quite prominent, and it was making you both fairly uncomfortable. There were so many words that could have and needed to be spoken between the two of you, yet all you could do was sit there in silence as you did all those years before.

“Where’s Megan?” You started off, trying to refrain the inevitable conversation.

“Doesn’ matter where she is.” Harry quietly replied. He seemed to be out of it, as if he had no energy at all, and this wasn’t because he had just gotten off a series of long plane rides. No, this was an emotional toll that Harry held with him on his back. One much bigger than you could ever understand. His response, although, confused you beyond belief. Why didn’t he want you to know where she was? “I won’ tell yeh considering we aren’t friends.”

“Oh,” you say, a little surprised at his quick change of mood, “Well, I thought we could start over some day, but if that’s what you want then okay.”

“Yeh wanted to start over?” Harry let out a humorous laugh, “I doubt that, (Y/N). If yeh wanted to start over wit me, yeh would’ve told me yeh were moving away.”

“Harry, that doesn’t make any sense. Me telling you about me moving would not signify us starting over. It’s more like us ending.” You were so upset at the tone he was using with you that you didn’t actually think about what he was saying. If you did, you would’ve realized that what he was saying was entirely wrong. You did tell him about your move.

If you had taken a second to stop and process everything Harry was telling you, you would’ve realized that there was something wrong. You would’ve gotten answers to why he didn’t say goodbye to you before you left London. You would’ve learned that none of this was his fault, that he wasn’t as bad as you had cut him out to be, and that he was still the same Harry you knew. You would’ve learned that you had both been lied to, played, by one of your closest friends. But of course, you didn’t. You didn’t stop to think about anything but your anger towards him that had been building up inside you for years.

“No, yeh’ve got it all wrong. It would’ve done somethin’ for our relationship, our friendship, but no yeh were so eager to get away from me yeh didn’ even think ‘bout yeh actions ‘fore ya did it.” By now, you were both standing on opposite sides of the room, facing each other. Your voices had turned as loud as they did that night as you both desperately tried to get your point across to the other.

“Don’t be ridiculous. You know what’s funny? All those years ago you told me that I had lost my mind for thinking that you would want to get married, but now, you’re the one that has lost their mind. Let me ask you this, Harry. What would you have done had you known about me leaving? Would you have came running to my apartment, begging me to stay? Would you have come over to congratulate me and helped me pack my things? Would you have tried to fix something that can’t be fixed with one simple conversation? What would you have done that was so monumental that you’re so upset about this?” You rambled, throwing up your hands to make ridiculous gestures out of pure frustration and irritation.

“I’d ‘ve tried, (Y/N), but yeh didn’ even let me do tha’. Sometimes yeh can be so fuckin’ reckless. All yeh seem to care ‘bout ‘s yehself, and yeh don’ care wha’ ‘appens in the process. Yeh try to pretend that ya are carin’, but I know the real person yeh are.” Harry had turned into the exact same person he had been on the night you stormed out. He was saying the first thing that came to his head, and his filter was gone. Of course he didn’t actually mean all the things he was saying to you nor did he believe that any of it was true. He was just completely fed up with the way that your relationship had taken such a negative turn so abruptly.

“Fine, Harry. If that’s the way that you really see me, as some sort of toxic, deceiving, manipulative bitch, then so be it. You don’t know me anymore, and I don’t the validation from someone I never talk to. I can’t change the way you think about me, and frankly, I don’t care. If you want to hate me the rest of your life, go ahead, no one’s stopping you. I just hope that one day you can learn to move passed all of this.“ You put in your last word, done with this conversation and Harry.

“I don’ hate yeh, love. ‘m just confused, and I wan’ to start over.” Harry was trying his best to try to calm himself down because he knew that if he didn’t, you would run off again. “I know ‘s hard for both of us to pretend tha’ nothin’ happened between the two of us, but yeh too important to me to jus’ let ya go.”

You had both stopped yelling at each other, and the conversation had turned into one with soft whispers that could barely be heard by the other.

“I don’t think that’s true. If you really wanted me to be in your life, you wouldn’t have said that you think I’m fake or that all I seem to care about is myself. You sure do have a weird way of showing people that they’re important to you, and I’m not sure that I want that. I’m sorry, Harry, but I think that it’s best if we don’t talk to each other. There’s always going to be that tension and resentment, and that’s something that can’t be brushed under the carpet only to pretend it isn’t there.”

“(Y/N), ‘s not true. I can promise yeh that. I would never do that to yeh. I would never hold a grudge ‘gainst ya. The tension will go ‘way some day, jus’ need time. I mean sure it’ll be difficult for us to get passed this bump in the road, bu’ I really want to try again. As friends.”

“Harry, I’m sorry. I just can’t. Seeing you and talking to you is too much for me to handle, even now after all those years of us not talking to each other.” By now, you were crying as all the emotions you had been holding in had finally come out. You brushed passed Harry to get away from him as quickly as possible.

“(Y/N), wa-” Harry tried to stop you, however you were already gone. He wanted nothing more than explain everything to you.

But it didn’t matter what Harry said to you in order to try to change your mind. Because Niall had gotten what he wanted and he won.

-

Hello, my loves! There’s part two! I really hope you all liked this, and I’m so sorry that I made you wait an extra day to read it. This is the final part of the series because I quite like how it ended. Thanks for reading, and your feedback is always welcome. :) Much love- Emily xx