❛ What are you doing? ❜
❛ Where are you going? ❜
❛ Where are you taking me? ❜
❛ How is that working out for you? ❜
❛ Is everything okay? ❜
❛ Why are you acting like this? ❜
❛ You think I would lie to you? ❜
❛ Are you telling the truth? ❜
❛ Are you sure you want to do this? ❜
❛ This is your bright idea of a plan? ❜
❛ What else do you want me to do? ❜
❛ What else can I do? ❜
❛ What do you think I should do? ❜
❛ What makes you think that? ❜
❛ Who told you that? ❜
❛ Who are you? ❜
❛ Why are you here? ❜
❛ Who invited you? ❜
❛ How come you ever asked me? ❜
❛ Did you really mean all those things you said? ❜
❛ Why did you have to go? Why did you have to leave? ❜
❛ Why is it so hard for you to see that? ❜
❛ Why don’t you understand? ❜
❛ What don’t you understand? ❜
❛ Are you joking? ❜
❛ Did I miss anything? ❜
❛ You don’t remember? ❜
❛ Did you really say all that stuff about me? ❜
❛ Did you think I would forget? ❜
❛ How can you sit there and say that? ❜
❛ How do you even sleep at night? ❜
❛ Are you coming or not? ❜
❛ Am I the only one freaked out right now? ❜
❛ Are you laughing or crying? ❜
❛ Who did this to you? ❜
❛ Did someone hurt you? ❜
❛ Is it just me or are you, like, ignoring me? ❜
❛ You want me to apologize for something you did? ❜
❛ Are you going to kiss me or not? ❜
❛ Aren’t you the one who said it though? ❜
❛ So, you don’t like me like that? ❜
❛ Where do we go from here? ❜
❛ Are you being serious right now? ❜
❛ How was I supposed to know that? ❜
❛ Oh, is that a challenge? ❜
❛ Are you flirting with me? ❜
❛ Are you going to let me go now? ❜
❛ Are we done now? ❜
❛ Why didn’t just ask me? ❜
❛ You’re going to believe them over me? ❜
❛ How can possibly think that? ❜
❛ Did you even miss me? ❜
❛ Did anyone even notice that I was gone? ❜
❛ Why do you go around and kiss everyone? ❜
❛ Did you kill them? ❜
❛ Who’s blood is that? Is that your blood? ❜
❛ Do you think this is a game? ❜
❛ Are you having doubts? ❜
❛ Why haven’t you been at school/work? ❜
❛ Is there something going on that you need to tell me? ❜
❛ You said you wanted to talk? ❜
❛ What am I supposed to do? ❜
❛ What did you expect to happen? ❜
❛ How long you think you can keep this act up? ❜
❛ You don’t like me? Do you? Like in a more than a friend way? ❜
❛ Is that what everyone is saying now? ❜
❛ Who do I remind you of? ❜
❛ Are you hungry? Want to go get something to et? ❜
❛ Are you drunk? ❜
❛ Are you lost? ❜
❛ What’s so great about any of that anyway? ❜
❛ Are you even listening to yourself? ❜
❛ What are you going to do about it, huh? ❜
❛ What are you staring at? ❜
❛ What are you doing out here? ❜
❛ Why did you call the police? ❜
❛ Wait, do you hear that? ❜
❛ Why don’t you tell me anything? ❜
❛ Hey, did you get me anything? ❜
❛ Why didn’t you come over last night? ❜
❛ What did you find out? ❜
❛ Can I stay here for the night? ❜
❛ Are you throwing rocks at my window? ❜
❛ Are you crying? ❜
❛ What are you laughing at me? ❜
❛ Are you laughing at me? ❜
❛ Do you not understand the word no? ❜
❛ Is that it? Is that all? ❜
❛ Are you in some kind of trouble? ❜
❛ Yeah, but, you have me. So why bother? ❜
❛ What’s love got to do with it? ❜
❛ This is where we kiss, right? ❜
❛ Do you ever not just only think about yourself? ❜
❛ Are going to leave me again? ❜
❛ What’s wrong with that? ❜
❛ Do you have anything you need to say to me? ❜
❛ I think I’m going to puke. Is there a trash can in here? ❜
❛ You really don’t know why I’m mad at you? ❜
❛ Why do you treat me like I’m not important to you? ❜
❛ Why are you telling me this?
❛ Are you ready? ❜
❛ What’s with all the questions? ❜
❛ I thought this is what you wanted? ❜
❛ Where do you think you’re going with this? ❜
❛ You’re just going to leave? ❜
❛ Do you trust me? ❜
❛ You love me? Or you think you love me? ❜
❛ When will it ever stop? ❜
❛ Do you think it’ll ever go away? ❜
❛ What are you doing this weekend? ❜
❛ You called for back up? ❜
❛ What did I just witness? ❜
❛ How do you cope when the one you love is with somebody else? ❜
❛ Have you ever thought it? ❜
❛ Are you wearing a wire? ❜
❛ Is there something wrong? ❜
❛ Is it something I said or something I did? ❜
❛ What’s wrong? I thought that it was okay? ❜
❛ Are you going to hold that against me forever? ❜
❛ So, tell me, what else is new? ❜
❛ You never actually cared, did you? ❜
❛ You went to a party without me? ❜
❛ Why wasn’t I invited? ❜
❛ Do you think that’s a little fucked up? ❜
❛ Oh, so you do speak? ❜
❛ Do you think it’s really worth it in the end? ❜
❛ How many more times do I have to tell you? ❜
❛ You didn’t think that it would bother me? ❜
Hey y’all please don’t come after Katie for laughing like I think she looked really embarrassed and uncomfortable especially after she was very visibly singled out. She’s been very clear and vocal with fans, and interviews too so not just privately, that she believes in us and believes in Supercorp. I know we’re all hurt, and I am too, but I don’t think it’s fair to jump to conclusions about her in light of that. The rest of the cast? Idk them.
A lot of people, including myself, automatically laugh when uncomfortable. Or when all their friends who are present are laughing. I find it really hard to believe that she thinks Supercorp is something to make fun of especially with the number of times she has specifically validated it. I bet that if she did social media she would apologize asap and clarify how highly she thinks of us, but she has no way to do that.
TLDR Katie has been extremely supportive of her WLW fans and of Supercorp every time anybody has talked to her about it, both fans and interviewers. We don’t know what her laugh meant so maybe give her of all people some benefit of the doubt.
•I am in love with the idea of Keith making jokes so only hunk can really hear
•and they are GOOD
•Hunk has laughed so hard hes cryed over some of them
•one time Keith’s joke got him so good that he skipped the laughter and went straight to crying
•but Keith is sneaky
•and no one EVER hears him exept Hunk
•Hunk is loosing it™
•I SWEAR GUYS KEITH IS FUNNY HE MAKES JOKES I SWEAR LANCE YOU BELIEVE ME RIGHT
•im sorry buddy but ??? Keith has literally never???
•Hunk looking at Keith
•hes so smug
•Hunk making the “im watching you” gesture
• Keith taking it as a CHALLENGE
•a challenge to get sneakeyer and funnier
•when they are heading to their lion
•right before they enter a room with everyone else
•as hunk is taking a sip of space juice so he does a spit take all over lance and pidge
•at the table when Keith walks behind hunks chair
•Keith is brutal with his jokes tbh
•they are always relevant to something going on
•"Are we sure Galra Keith isn’t evil??? I think he’s tring to make me laugh to death! Is that possible?“
•Keith is so happy to have a thing™ with Hunk
•he feels so proud of himself whenever Hunk laughs
•he did that he made him happy
•Keith would do anything to make that laugh and that smile stick around
•and he finds that making jokes like this is a great stress relief for both of them so thats a plus
•keith dosnt know when he started to automatically seak out Hunk when entering a room
•Hunk doesnt know when he started keeping a constant eye out for Keith
•really tho if you see one of them you probably see the other too and they are probably most definitely both trying to stifle a laughing fit
Most of BTS members get scared easily but they went into a place full of zombies to entertain and get free tickets to ARMYs, even after trying so hard they failed so they just paid for them themselves. They could have just went for basic Halloween costumes, or tried making themselves look cool but they preferred to make us laugh and Taehyung ended up trying to act manly dancing as Snow White. Why am I writing a post about this? Some groups stop doing those little things to fans after the fame because they don’t need to anymore so I am very grateful the BTS that tried so hard for their fans in the past are still trying to give more than they receive. They are growing with such beautiful mindsets and changing to the better, As an ARMY I really hope this close relationship we have between us will never break.
So I have decided to post all the facts and hints about Connor Murphy’s past that are shown in the musical. It’s hard to make out considering people in the fandom usually focus on the lies Evan tells to figure out Connor’s personality.
To get this conclusion (which I will post in a second) I literally skipped all scenes concerning Evan’s lies and went directly to the Murphy family and what they say. None of these facts/hints involve what Evan said about Connor.
First of all, I’ll say now that I have put my own interpretation on each of these facts.
And so, I will put all FACTS in BOLD. Anything out of bold is my own interpretation and how I see it to be. It’s up to you to agree with me or disagree.
First, I will post my conclusions on each family member, and then afterwards, I will post the reasons for each one.
Zoe was an emotional and verbal abuse
victim.There is no evidence of physical abuse, although there were
threats that could have potentially led to that. She has all the
right to not grieve over Connor, in all honesty, she could have sent
him to the police for what he did, but as an abuse victim, that is
very hard to do. Connor was probably the cause of most of her
insecurities and she hated him for that. The unhealthy habit of
taking out his anger on the nearest person to him probably made him
lash out at his sister whenever he had a panic attack. Judging by how
he really did care enough to keep the creepy letter about his sister,
written by Evan, in his pocket for 3 days before he committed
suicide, it’s safe to say that he really regretted being mean to his
sister and actually cared about her.
Connor’s mom, Cynthia
Connor’s mom was a woman obsessed with
reputation. She’s known as the rich man’s wife, and wants more than
anything to be a regular family. But because her son had mental
illnesses, her perfect image was ruined. She acted as though she was
there for him but when it came down to it, she did nothing. She
pushed for therapy but after a while, her husband took him out of it
because “it wasn’t worth the money,” and she basically went,
“welp, I tried.” I will quote what I say later: Connor’s mom
might not actually be sad that her son is gone, but rather, she’s
ashamed that her family actually doesn’t care. It seems like Connor’s
mom is filled with regret for not being there for her son, and she’s
forcing her family to act like they regretted it too, because that’s
what a real family should have been like. But this is only a personal
Connor’s dad, Larry
Connor’s dad might be one of the main
sources of his depression. It is very obvious to me that Connor’s dad
believed him to be a disappointment.He didn’t grieve for his dead
son and only played along to make his wife happy. He’s annoyed by the
whole situation. It even seemed like he hated the fact that there was
fake remnants of his son in Evan. Almost like he wished Connor wasn’t
friends with Evan so he could just forget all about him and not need
to deal with it. At some point he was a kind father. When they went
to the orchard together for picnics, it seems like they were a happy
family. Connor’s dad had played with their toy plane together and had
some great memories. The whole family practically forgot about this,
though. Connor’s dad didn’t cry at his own dead son’s funeral. I
think that sums it up.
Connor was a complicated person. He had
many different mental illnesses. I could research which ones he
probably had, but there’s probably already a post somewhere on it
already. One thing for sure, is that he was unstable. He might not
have been like that his whole life, but at the time of knowing him,
the time he was briefly alive in the show, he was incredibly
unstable. Everything and anything could set him off, and he probably
hated that about himself as well. Pushing away everyone near him that
could possibly help and hating himself for doing so, spiraling
himself into a closed minded world of self-hate and regret, which is
something that many people can relate to, including me. He did a lot
of horrible things to his sister and to his family. I don’t blame his
family for not actually grieving him, he was a really bad person. The
problem is, he could have been a good person as well. He had all the
potential to get better. He talked to Evan, probably wishing to say
sorry about pushing him earlier in the hall. He was trying, he wanted
to try. He wanted to get better. He just gave up too soon.
This post is very long! I’m sorry. If you’d like to read more, I’m putting the reasons I’ve come to these conclusions under the cut.
Remember, ALL FACTS ARE IN BOLD. Anything else is my personal interpretation.
summary : peter, hopeless romantic that he is, has a cache of love letters, all addressed to you, hidden under his bed and expertly crafted. he never anticipated them being read, or the feelings he has for you being returned.
word count : 3.1k (holy fucking hell i’m sorry)
Peter couldn’t help it, the way that he was. He was a romantic at a heart, though the awkwardness of him had a tendency to prevail rather than the confident, smooth talking, small part of him that had a desperate desire to reveal itself. Spider-man was as suave as a fifteen year old boy could be; Peter Parker was awkward, inept at participating in normal, human conversation and often incapable of forming coherent sentences more often than not. He wasn’t the best at talking to people besides Ned and Aunt May and- on occasion- Tony Stark. Especially not you. If there was one person that he turned into an absolute bumbling, ridiculous mess around, it was you. He loathed himself for it, sure that you thought that he was weird, annoying, the same way that anyone who didn’t know him assumed he was.
Ned, however, continuously insisted that you found Peter to be a sweetheart, like anyone who got to know him well enough did, and that you liked him very much- perhaps more than a friend, though Peter had immediately scoffed at the notion. It was out of the question, downright ludicrous. But, of course, Ned had implanted the idea in Peter’s head, and now the boy’s ever creative mind refused to stop constructing various scenarios in which you were Peter’s girlfriend and he was as happy as he had ever been.
While he had been a perfectly charming boyfriend in each and every one of those little dream sequences of his, he was hopelessly lost for words whenever you approached him, unable to even ask what class you had next, let alone reveal the pure adoration he had been holding on to ever since you had been placed beside him in Bio in your freshman year. You had always been the one to stick up for him and smile at him and treat him like a decent human being, and so of course he fell for you, and now he could barely look you in the eye without his cheeks turning a lovely shade of pink. So, he bottled his feelings and let them out in a way he had never known could help him.
He wrote to you every single day and poured his heart out in every single letter and expressed every thought he knew, in his heart, he would never be able to say out loud. Writing what he felt was so much simpler than saying the words out loud. That was what he assumed, anyhow. He took his pen and placed it down on the paper, starting it the same way he always did.
Dear Y/N… As always, the words spilled over from his mind to the paper as if he wasn’t thinking, just writing and writing and writing until he had filled two pages without lifting his curly head from the paper once. When he finally finished, a yawn stretching across his mouth, he noticed Aunt May standing outside his door. He turned his chair around, raising his eyebrows at her.
“Writing to that pretty girl again?” She asked, hand on her hip but wearing a knowing, soft grin. Peter, not bothering to feign shock, nodded solemnly and placed his pen down the paper. “You should think about maybe, oh I don’t know, actually giving her one of the letters you’ve written?”
Adamantly, Peter shook his head. “May, I could never. You don’t get it.” He swiveled around in the chair, spinning it until he was dizzy. “These letters are embarrassing. They’re practically my whole heart and soul on a piece of paper. She’d scream and run away if she read how I felt about her.” He sighed, placing his elbow on the edge of the desk and resting his cheek in his hand. He stared up at his aunt, still craving her sage advice. May stared back at him thoughtfully.
“Well, in my personal experience,” she came over and gave Peter’s shoulder a squeeze, eyeing the letter that was signed with Peter’s name, “girls are suckers for love letters. And you Parker men write the best ones out there. Trust me.”
Peter bit his lip. “Yeah, sure, I’m not an awful writer. But, I still can’t give them to her. I just can’t.” Before she could say anything else, he was folding it up and placing it on top of the shelf on his desk next to his books for English. “Uncle Ben was different. He was charming. You know that.”
May smiled wistfully. “I do.”
“And that’s one thing that I didn’t get from him,” Peter finished, shrugging his shoulders as he stood up from his swivel chair. “It’s fine.” He waved it off. “I’m happy suffering in silence. I’m gonna go to bed. Big English project starts tomorrow. Love you,” he kissed May on the cheek as she left his bedroom, switching the light off in her departure. He stared at the wall once he was situated in bed, mulling the conversation over in his head. Maybe May’s right. Maybe telling Y/N wouldn’t be as bad as I’m thinking. Maybe I’m overreacting. Actually, never mind. She probably hates me. Ugh. Life sucks.
That morning, when he arrived in his English class, you were sitting in the seat that had been previously occupied by Ned pretty much every class since the beginning of the school year. Sucking in a breath, Peter took his first step into the classroom. He knew he was a little late to today’s lesson, but he hadn’t realized he was a full fifteen minutes behind schedule. Ned was in the back with Michelle, giving Peter an encouraging thumbs up when he noticed his best friend finally arrive on the scene. Peter gave him the finger.
“Mr. Parker, lovely for you to join us!” Ms. Matthews declared when he decided to shove himself through the door, his heart jackhammering away in his chest and making its way up to his throat. He kind of wanted to throw up.
“Um, yeah, well, you know, sleep and whatnot- overslept, haha,” he coughed out a laugh, scratching the back of his neck. The teacher nodded with faux sympathy, though he could tell she didn’t care that much for his explanation. “I’ll just, um, sit. Down.”
“Next to Y/N, please,” She instructed, waving her hand in your direction. “Since you were late and unable to choose your own partner, surprising since usually Ned is so eager to work with you, Y/N offered to be your partner.” The teacher gave you a fond smile, as every teacher did. “She can explain the details of the assignment.”
Peter gave her a stiff nod before sliding into his chair, and you noticed how rigid he was as he turned toward you with a slight frown. He seemed extremely upset to be working with you, but you wouldn’t let that get in the way. You liked Peter. Really, truly liked him. He was a sweetie whenever he actually talked to and different than the rest of the guys at Midtown. He was genuine.
Giving him your full attention, you beamed at him. “Hey, Peter,” you said cheerfully. He gave you a small smile in return, wringing his hands under the desk. He couldn’t stop fidgeting. Your own smile dropped, which he noticed immediately and felt awful about. “Sorry you didn’t get paired up with Ned,” you continued, taking your books out of your shoulder bag. “I know you would’ve preferred it that way-”
“No!” He interrupted quickly, practically slamming his hands down on the desk so hard you jumped in your seat, eyes wide. “Sorry, sorry, I just, um,” he laughed a little, his cheeks burning, “I’m, um, happy to have you as a partner. Really, I am,” he added as an afterthought, just to make sure you knew.
Your shoulders relaxed as you looked at him. “You’re not just saying that, right? You seem awfully stiff,” you teased, poking his uncomfortably positioned arm as you quirked a brow.
“Do I?” He was practically sweating.
“I was just joking, Pete. It’s cute, anyway.” Peter’s eyes, a shade of brown that you had come to think of as warm as honey, went wide and he gaped at you, but you pretended not to notice. “So, for the assignment we have to write a short story based on one of the assigned reading books this year.”
She called me cute.
“Shit… I think I forgot all of mine,” you were mumbling, your head practically stuck in your bag. “Did your bring yours, Peter?”
Oh my god, she thinks I’m cute. She thinks I’m cute. I’m going to faint.
You snapped your fingers in front of his cherry red face, trying not to appear as amused as you felt. He blinked owlishly, an apologetic half smile, half grimace on his face. He was cute most of the time, but especially when he smiled, even if it was only a forced, awkward one. “Do you have your books, Peter?” You repeated kindly.
“Um, sorry, I’ll check,” he answered, embarrassed about his utterly obvious staring that had just occurred. He rummaged around in his backpack before realizing he had forgotten them, as well. He popped back up, curls in disarray as his head brushed against the fabric of his bag. “I forgot them, sorry,” he ran a hand through his hair, messing it up even more. It was kind of adorable.
“You need to stop apologizing for everything, Pete,” you laughed. “It’s fine. We can get started after school. My place or yours?” You were already packing your things, and before he could think about what he was about to do, he said, “Mine.”
“Cool,” you grinned again, a grin that made him want to smile for the rest of his life. “Which one of is doing the writing? Or do you want to split it?”
“You’re a, um, fantastic writer,” he told you, having read your submissions to the school newspaper more times than he could count. “If you wanna take over, you can. I can edit and stuff.”
“Aw, I’m not that good,” you shook your head abashedly, looking down at your lap. “But thank you, Peter. I’m sure you’re great, too, though. Are you sure you don’t wanna write some of it?”
“I’m not much of a writer.”
So, you were in Peter Parker’s room. He was having his third heart attack of the day, and was incredibly grateful that he had managed to keep his wits about him for majority of the day. He had only tripped over his words five times, tripped literally twice, and dropped his Metro card once, but it was fine. You helped him back each time he fell with your usual grace, barely acknowledging his multiple social faux pas and only laughing once because he fell over a small dog- which even he would admit was pretty funny.
Still, his palms were sweaty around you and he didn’t know how he was going to survive working so close to you for the next week while the English assignment was occurring. He lead you into his apartment and you noticed that his hands were shaking slightly as he twisted the keys in the lock. You walked into the apartment, the first thing crossing your mind was how cozy and homelike it was. You liked it very much.
“It’s really cute in here,” you said, smiling around the room as Peter busied himself with a glass of water. He downed it quickly. “Where’s your aunt?”
“Work,” he replied, catching his breath after the gulping down of his water. “Here, let’s go to my room.” He placed his glass of water on the counter and motioned for you to follow him, opening the door to his room and wincing at the mess in there. “It’s a mess, sorry about that.”
You rolled your eyes at him playfully. “Didn’t I say stop apologizing?” You entered his room as if you had been there many times before, taking your shoes off and setting them by the door. You threw your bag on his bed and took a seat in his swivel chair, and he liked how natural it seemed for you to be in his room. He liked how comfortable you were, sitting there. Something about it made him happy.
“Yeah, my bad,” he shrugged. You tilted your head, pointing your finger at him while he raised his hands defensively. “It wasn’t technically an apology!” He took a step out of the room. He was finally being normal around you, he realized delightedly. He would still need more water, though. He could feel his mouth getting dry. “I’m gonna get more water. Want anything?” You shook your head, spinning around in the chair as he left.
Your eyes scanned over his desk, taking in every inch of Peter Parker’s life. He had bad books stacked everywhere, his desk was a mess, there were clothes thrown about the room. Star Wars posters, Avengers posters, notes scattered across the desk. You admired the artful messiness of it all. You leaned up to where his English books were, spotting the one you were most interested in and yanking it off the shelf. As you did, a folded piece of paper fluttered down off the shelf, just when Peter was walking back into the room.
“I thought you said you weren’t a writer, Pete,” you raised your eyebrows at him, holding the letter in your hand and waving it at him.
He almost threw up right there. “Um, I’m not, please give that back,” he reached for it, but you jumped out of the chair, raising the letter high in the air. “Y/N!” He whined, grabbing for it again. “C’mon, please,” he pleaded desperately, pouting at you with such intensity it almost made you want to give it to him.
“Can’t I just read a sentence, Peter?” You pushed out your bottom lip, batting your eyelashes at him.
He almost gave in. “No, Y/N. Seriously, give it back.” He sounded scared now, upset as well. You pursed your lips, handing it back to him. He was so anxious about you reading it that it dropped on the floor, opening far enough so that you could see your name scrawled across the top in Peter’s defining chicken scratch handwriting.
“That says my name, so now I have to read it.” You stood directly in front of Peter, hands pressed together in a pleading motion, the expression on your face so genuinely interested that he had to give it to you. He picked it back up with a lump in his throat and handed it over, scared as ever. But this was what May had advised. Maybe she’d be right.
“Dear Y/N,” you read aloud in a loud, terrible accent, glancing back up at Peter as you read the line after that. He was staring down at the floor, preparing himself for what you were going to say when you read the letter, read his heart. You sat in his chair, realizing it’d be better if you didn’t read it so publicly. He sat down on his bed, waiting.
Dear Y/N. This is maybe the tenth letter I’ve written to you, and each time I say the same thing, so if one day you are reading this in proper succession, I’m sorry for being so utterly repetitive. You’ll probably never read this, though. And that’s why it’s so easy for me to write. I think you’re the only person to ever truly be interested in me when I’m talking about science. Not even Ned has an attention span that long. But you do. And you don’t know how much I want to thank you for that. You make it really difficult to not like you, to not be in love with you. I think that’s what it is… love. And if I’m not in love with you yet, then I’m certainly falling for you. Who wouldn’t? You’re a wonderful person without trying, you’re a beautiful hurricane, a sunset on the horizon of my bleakest hours, and you make me feel as if I’ve been standing in the sunshine for my entire life.
You put the letter down, smoothing it over your lap. You didn’t need to read the rest. That was enough. Peter gazed at you now, the way you’ve yearned to be looked at before, and you shamed yourself for being so blind these past two years. He wasn’t simply just staring. He was looking. Admiring. You slid next to Peter, placing the letter behind you. He moved his hand, curling his fingers around yours tentative as ever. Your free hand grazed up the side of his face, toying with the hair on the back of his neck before resting on his cheek. He shut his eyes. When he opened them again, you were so close that he was able to count each individual eyelash that you had, every single fleck of pure beauty in your deep eyes.
“I like you very much, Peter Parker,” you murmured. He felt his heart soar, and then, he felt himself kiss you. It was an out of body experience. He was there, he was the one kissing you, the one who had initiated it, but it felt like he wasn’t. He was up in the clouds, too far lost in the way it felt to run his hands through your hair as he had always dreamed of to notice Aunt May sneaking past the door, overjoyed to see Peter finally with the girl he had been loving in silence for far too long. You pulled away from each other, eyes opening slowly and hesitantly and your lips practically still connected.
He wanted to tell her that he adored her, but Aunt May’s voice flowed from the kitchen too loud to overpower his thoughts. “You read her the letter, didn’t you? I told you it’d work! Worked for your Uncle Ben and I was right as I always am!”
He jumped up from the bed, sticking his head out of the doorway and pressing his finger to his lips. “Maaaayyyy, you’re embarrassing me,” he whispered-yelled, practically whined. “You were right, okay? Thank you, let me go get a girlfriend now. The girlfriend.” She beamed at him, but no one’s smile could shine brighter than Peter’s.
He retreated back into the room, and you were clutching the letter in your hands. You looked up at him hopefully. “I was thinking that maybe you could read me the other nine letters. If you’re up for it.”
Peter couldn’t possibly say no, taking a page out of his Uncle Ben’s book the way he should have done in the first place as he found the hiding spot for the stack of letters he had been writing for the past few months, sliding them over to you and feeling confident for the first time in a long time.
To all of my followers: I hope you have fun celebrating, and if you don’t or it already passed, then I hope you have a great day!!
lonce: hunk help
lonce: hunk jesus im locked in an elevator with a cute boy and i dont have my hearing aids in bc i dodnt think this was gonna happen what do i do
lonce: hunk i know you have your phone bc i left he apartment and you are a worried mother hen now look ag your phone
Finally, Lance decides texting his best friend is useless, and he clicks his phone off and slides it into his bag. Of course—of course—Lance didn’t put his hearing aids in before coming to this stupid checkup. His doctors told him he would be taking them out anyway, so he didn’t put them in and now he’s here. Locked in close proximity to possibly the most gorgeous guy he’s ever had the pleasure of seeing but he can’t understand him.
Lance current mood would be the passive-aggressive “I’m-dead-inside” smile if he really had to choose.
He jumps as the guy taps him. He’s leaning into Lance’s personal bubble, but he doesn’t honestly care. For a moment, Lance prays that God will have mercy and give Lance a break before he reaches up to sign to the boy.
He’s met with a gaze filled with confusion. Lance swears internally (or maybe externally? He can’t really be bothered to figure out which). Of course the guy doesn’t understand ASL.
Lance grabs the boy’s hand and starts tracing letters into his palm. He prays the guy doesn’t have, like, nerve damage or something that makes him not feel his hand.
The boy takes a moment, but he nods and turns around to rummage in the red backpack behind him. He holds up a pen, handing it to Lance. Lance struggles, for a moment, to roll up his sleeve to reveal his tan forearm, but he manages.
I’m Lance, he writes. I’m also completely deaf without my hearing aids which just so happen to be on my bedside table right now
The boy nods in understanding before taking the pen and rolling up his own sleeve.
Keith. Brother was in the ICU being discharged today. Lance nods. He remembers being discharged. It was the best thing that had happened that week.
Lance had some rare thing. He got a concussion from soccer when he was really young, and his hearing started to deteriorate after that. Then, when he was twelve, he woke up one day, and it was just gone. The silence was unnerving, but he got used to it, then he got hearing aids, which helped with hearing louder noises. He could hear when people talked to him, too, if he turned them up really loud.
do you think anyone knows we’re here?
Keith shrugs with an apologetic look on his face. Lance wishes he weren’t so distracted by Keith’s face because if he wasn’t, he’d totally be flirting.
Suddenly, Keith jumps, and Lance feels faint vibrations from the metal wall of the elevator. Keith holds up a finger, as if telling Lance to wait a minute or be quiet. Lance snickers at the thought. It’s cute that he’s not used to Lance being deaf—he’d forgotten how funny meeting new people was.
They said it’ll be about a half hour, maybe 45 minutes.
Lance nods. For a while, Lance and Keith just stare at each other. Lance doesn’t think it’s uncomfortable, but Keith might be freaking out internally, and Lance would have no idea. He could be freaking out externally and Lance probably wouldn’t know, to be honest.
I think your phone went off.
Lance reads Keith’s arm before fumbling for his bag. Sure enough, his phone was buzzing with rapid fire texts in a group chat with both Pidge and Hunk, his roommates and closest friends.
hunk-o-cheese: pidge wanted me to play CoD sorry
hunk-o-cheese: are you okay
hunk-o-cheese: where are you
midge-pidge: hunk dude calm down hes fine hes just really bi remember
lonce: g u y s
lonce: hes so cute were communicating by writing on our arms in pen i am
lonce: so bi
midge-pidge: see hunk i told you
hunk-o-cheese: dont worry buddy we’re coming to the hospital to get you
hunk-o-cheese: no buts come on
lonce: you guys are sitting next to each other arent you
midge-pidge: yeah :/
Lance chuckles to himself and puts his phone away again. He and Keith don’t say anything else on their arms until the elevator lurches and begins to move again. Lance leans over and takes Keith’s other arm and rolls up the sleeve.
He adds his phone number, being careful to make sure Keith can tell what every number is. Maybe, for once, Lance won’t get shrugged off and forgotten. He sure hope so. He also hopes Keith is gay, or bi at least. A small smile blooms on Keith’s face as he looks at the number, and the elevator doors open on Lance’s floor. He waves goodbye as he walks down the hall.
Keith has Lance’s number in his phone. He does, and he was planning on texting him or something, but everytime he tries to do so, he chickens out.
Finally, one day he comes home from getting takeout to Shiro staring blankly at the wall, holding his face. He thinks that he’s having a flashback, but his shoulders start to shake, and a few chuckles slip through his lips.
“You didn’t tell me he was deaf,” Shiro claims, throwing his arms up into the air.
“What?” Keith is confused.
“The guy you’ve been trying to text—don’t think I don’t see you contemplating it every day before deleting it and pouting for the rest of the night. I called him. And he’s deaf.”
“Shiro!” Keith shrieks, grabbing for his phone.
Lance: keith im deaf
Lance: did you forget that i cant hear you cant call me because j cant hear you
Keith: That was my brother I am so sorry
Lance: its fine i was just super confused since me being deaf is p hard to forget especially when the pen still won’t come off my arm
Lance: he left a message but hunk was laughing too hard to translate it into sign language
Lance: wait is thjs the brother that was getting discharged
Keith: Yeah it was Shiro
Lance: tell him im glad he called because it got you to text me ;)
Keith blushes and grins. So Lance really did want him to text him.
Keith: I wanted to text you I swear I did
Keith: I just backed out every time because you know
Keith: It’s not everyday I get to meet a cute boy like you
Lance is silent for a long time, and Keith starts to worry that he said something wrong, but his phone goes off eventually.
Lance: i think you jjst gave me a stroke jeez
Lance: go to dinner with me sometime? ill wear my hearing aids this time so we can actually talk instead of giving outselves ink poisoning
Q. Remember when Taehyung said he loves the Hwarang hyungs and Jimin was upset? Is there anything that changed after that incident?
Jimin: I said I was upset because I was really upset when he said that. I always tell him whenever he meets with other friends too. That I was really upset.
Q. How about you Taehyung? Jimin said he was upset.
Taehyung: The Hwarang hyungs really expresses their feelings well all the time. I hear things like “Taehyung-ah I really love you” really often so it became a habit of saying “I love you” to them also.
Jimin: It’s not because he heard I love you often that he does that … It’s because Taehyung was very tired and struggled a lot while filming. So because of that we worried and cared for him a lot and it’s not that I support the members who are practically like family to me expecting anything in return, but because he only likes expressing his feelings to the Hwarang hyungs, that’s the reason why we were upset. You know when things that aren’t even a big deal affect you a lot?
Taehyung: When I try to tell my members that I love them, it becomes so awkward * laughs* Bangtan is my family … and you know how it’s hard to tell your family you love them. It’s that kind of feeling *laughs*.
Jimin: I understand what he is trying to say. I understand but I can’t help but feel upset.
Taehyung: But you saying this is just adorable *laughs*
jimin: It’s not cute! I ’m really upset! and I don’t like saying this kind of things in front of you so ask the next question, please *laughs* ah, but I’m not saying I don’t like you right now, I am just upset at what happened in the past.
Q. What kind of friend are you to each other?
Jimin: Taehyung now … is a friend that’s really like a friend? A long time ago it wasn’t this kind of feeling, to be honest. We never just laid everything down and comfortably talked to each other about our feelings before. I created a wall of some sort between Taehyung and I. But taehyung knocked that wall first. Ah~ The fact that I am saying this kind of stuff in front of him … *laughs*
Taehyung: just like how Jimin said. We weren’t close enough to share everything. At school other than Jimin I had a lot of friends my age, and a lot of friends who fit well with me. jimin and my personality were very different too … that’s all old news, now if I would need to talk about deep feelings/topics it’s Jimin. Things I can’t talk to with the hyungs. I can talk to Jimin about them.
Jimin: We will fight a lot in the future, but we will also become a lot closer.
Richie asks Eddie out as a joke but he also wants to go with him because Eddie is his boi.
So he just jokingly asks him out and laughs it off, to not make it obvious.
“Hey Eds, just imagine us being on the dance floor together, it’ll be hilarious, wanna go?”
And Eddie is??? why is he like this.
So Eddie goes
like, “sure, pick me up at 7,” while reading his book
And Richie is so
shook???? because he didn’t expect Eddie to actually agree to his stupid idea, but he does. So Richie just replies with a, “Knew you wanted a piece of this dick.”
He gets slapped, hard, on the arm from Bev.
Richie gets tickets last minute to the dance and rents out a tux last
minute from Bill because he really wants to try for Eddie, to make sure Eddie has a good night. So, really, its Richie being a mess all night because he wants to be good for Eddie - he wants to be good for himself.
The other losers help him plan his outfit; he gets Bill’s old tux, Bev helps him with his hair, Mike and Ben keep Eddie occupied, and Stan coaches Richie to breathe.
“Richie, everything will be fine if you don’t make dick jokes. Just tell Eddie how you feel, everything will be fine.”
“Stan, Stanley, the man, I’m freaked.”
But really, Richie could care less because he is so nervous atm, but he reaches Eddie’s house exactly at seven, not a moment late. He even got Eddie a corsage.
Though, he waits by the window, calls out for Eddie, and makes sure his heart isn’t bursting through his coat.
“Eds, spaghetti Eddie, bring your wholesome ass out here.”
And Eddie comes out, in all his glory, and really, Richie feels like he can’t breathe.
Because there is Eddie, standing there on the doorway, wearing a black tux, with his brown hair slowly curling around his ears and forehead - and Richie is so taken away because this small boy, his small boy, looks like an angel and Richie feels like he might cry.
Though, he sees Ms. K standing by the door, her face set in a stern line - and he’s really glad that Eddie started rebelling because Eddie is in a black tux, walking to Richie’s car, going to prom with him.
Richie tries hard, really, he does. But then he lets out that he got Eddie something and - well, it’s too late to back out now. “I, uh, got you a corsage.”
“Thanks chee,” Eddie says, his heart fucking bursting.
They get to the dance - both nervous to their core and Richie has no clue on what to do. So, he just stands there. faces Eddie and goes like ???
“Let’s just dance, I heard they’re playing the slow songs soon. It’ll be hilarious to see everyone tripping balls, come on.”
And then they’re dancing. At first its awkward, as neither boy knows where to put their hands, but really, they figure it out.
They’re dancing, and suddenly, “Every breath you take,” by the Police starts, and really, now, for fucks sake, Richie actually can’t breathe.
The song reaches its chorus, and that’s when Richie realizes???? that it hits him full fucking force that he loves Eddie Kaspbrak????
Eddie, the boy that is currently in front of him, his hands around his shoulders, Richie’s hands on his waist. And Richie is so overwhelmed to the point he swears there’s a hint of gold in Eddie’s eyes.
So, he blurts it out, “I love you.”
And really, all Eddie can do is go like??? I know???
Richie is shook cause this boy, that Richie just realized that he loves, knows that Richie loves him; and really, that’s a lot of information to handle.
So, Richie just smiles, lets out a little laugh and says, “cute,” because he really doesn’t know what to do.
Eddie, being Eddie, blushes so hard, and lightly pecks Richie on the lips. “Calm down trashmouth.”
Richie smiles, and then furrows his eyebrows, “wait, does this mean you’re like my main chick now? cause I don’t know how Stan would feel about that.”
“I love you, but fucking beep beep baby.”
And Richie’s heart fucking melts.
I am currently obsessed with writing, so please indulge me and send me requests!
Prompt: If you’re still taking request can I ask for a daveed x reader? Where Daveed loses his voice after a show and the reader had to take care of him? Thank you, I appreciate it.
A/N: so it’s been like 20 years since I posted an imagine? I’m sorry my loves, I hope you all forgive me and enjoy this!! xoxox
T/W: having a cold?
You pulled your coat closer around your
body as you stepped outside into the winter snow, rushing to hail a taxi to
take you to your workplace. You had been off of work and on holiday for a week,
and were excited to get back to your job.
You were a dresser for a few of the cast
members in the musical Hamilton, a job that doesn’t sound all that amazing but
filled you with immense happiness. Being that close to the buzzing energy of an
acclaimed theatre show made you tingle with excitement every night – and it
didn’t hurt that virtually every cast member was incredibly amazing to both
hang out with and to look at. You never understood how they could sustain
enough energy for a two-hour show, let alone doing it eight times a week.
Nonetheless, every member made you feel apart of the Hamilton family.
You jumped out of the taxi as it pulled up
to the Richard Rogers theatre, thanking the driver and giving him some cash
before hurrying into the heated venue. You looked up as you heard someone laugh
at you shaking small bits of snow out of your hair.
“Good afternoon, Y/N. Snowing outside?”
“Very observant of you, Lin,” you smiled
back, giving him a hug hello and answering all his questions about your holiday,
before making your way to the boys’ dressing room to help them get ready for
the first show of a two-show day.
You said a few more hellos on your way down
the hall, slowing down as you neared Oak, Anthony, and Daveed’s communal
dressing room to catch the end of their conversation.
When I was 5, I sat on the edge of my chair with my legs spread. I felt an itch between them, so I reached down to scratch, but my grandma grabbed my wrist to stop me and hissed: “Girls don’t do that!” I asked her why, because I had seen my father doing it, I had seen all the boys in primary school doing it, too. And it itched and I wanted to scratch it. Her answer was: “It’s just how it is. Girls don’t do that. Also, don’t sit there with your legs spread like that. Girls don’t do that, either.”
When I was 6, I spent a day on the beach with my family. I was excited about the new bikini my mum got me, but confused as to why she asked me to keep the top on when I went for a swim. She hadn’t made me wear it the years before, but suddenly, she was very fussy about it. “Look, I’ve got one on, too.”, she said to me. And I thought I understood: Women had to cover their breasts, because they were bigger than mens’. But I wasn’t a woman. I was a child. Later, I overheard a talk she had with my dad. “I don’t want old men to stare at her.”, she whispered. I interrupted them and asked her why she thought old men would look at me. Her answer was: “It’s just how it is. It’s because you’re a girl. And men do that.”
When I was 9, I got in a fight with my best friend. I went home and complained about it to my grandma, who lived with us. She told me I should have seen it coming. “That’s how girls are.”, she said. “A friendship between girls is always also a competition. Girls are jealous, manipulative and backstabbing. You can’t trust them.” But I had never fought with my best friend before and I knew we’d forgive and forget the next day, anyway. So, I asked my grandma why, and her answer was: “It’s just how it is. Catfights will happen. It’s normal. That’s how girls are.”
When I was 13, I fell in love with a boy from the neighbourhood. I couldn’t hide my excitement. He was on my mind all the time and I caught myself wishing we were together, so I could hold his hand and kiss him, too. I wanted to meet him, get to know him better, and I told my dad about my plan of asking him out. “Don’t do that.”, my dad said. “It’s not appropriate for a girl to ask a boy out.” Though I partly agreed, since I had never seen a woman proposing to the man in a movie, or read about a girl kissing her crush first, I still didn’t understand what would be so bad about being an exception, so I asked my dad why I had to wait for a boy to show interest in me in order to be allowed to openly requite it. His answer was: “It’s just how it is, darling. The man makes the first move. It’s always been this way. Boys like to conquer, and girls love being chased.”
When I was 17, I was part of a large group of friends. There was a boy who fancied me. I didn’t like him back, but I wasn’t used to anyone crushing on me, so I enjoyed the attention. He’d always tell me I was special. One of a kind. Different. “You’re not like other girls.”, he said. “You’re not a bitch. You’re funny, laid back, intelligent. You don’t just care about your nails or your hair. You get my sense of humour. You’re not like most girls. You’re my best guy friend. But with tits.” I was flattered in the beginning, but soon, I started to wonder if his compliments were any at all. I began to feel disgusted with him. I didn’t want to be his best guy friend with tits. So I asked him what’s so good about a girl like me, a girl unlike what he called a typical one, and his answer was: “That’s easy to explain. A pretty model type of girl is good enough to jack off to, but in the end, a guy wants some drama free pussy. You’re an exception. The majority of girls is superficial and slutty. The kind of girl you fuck, but dump when you’re ready to settle down. Or they’re just plain boring and prude. This sounds harsh, but it’s just how it is.”
When I was 19, there was a boy I regularly had sex with. It was nice. Not the breathtaking kind of passionate, ecstatic fucking I had dreamed of; maybe we lacked chemistry, maybe it would have been nicer if we had been in love; but I was alright with it. I adapted, obeyed and swallowed. Of course I did. In the beginning, he really put an effort in giving me what I gave him. He really tried. But his attempts at putting his tongue to good work quickly faded into halfheartedly rubbing me dry and at some point, he said: “I’m giving up.” I asked him why. His answer was: “It’s so hard to get a girl off. You women need ages to cum. It’s so exhausting.” I laughed and told him I needed about two minutes when I did it on my own. “Then stick to that.”, he said. “I’ve got a cramp in my wrist. Women are so complicated. It’s just how it is. I’m sorry.”
I am 20 now, and I’ve come to realize that my female identity has been shaped by a biased, hypocritical excuse based on ridiculous gender roles: “It’s just how it is.” All my life, I have asked them why, and all they said was “It’s just how it is.” And it didn’t matter whether I’ve asked men or women. Internalized misogyny is just as harmful. There were as many women as men who said: “It’s just how it is.” But that is not the answer I wanted. Not the answer I needed. These few words don’t fucking answer the countless questions concerning my gender identity.
Why can’t I sit with my legs spread? What’s so shameful about what I keep between them? Why must I cover my breasts? Why am I being sexualized long before I’m even told when sex is? Why am I being taught to mistrust other girls? Why do I have to compete with other girls? Why am I only a good girl when I’m not like most girls? Why do I have to keep quiet about the way I feel? Why am I not allowed to show affection like men do? Can’t I conquer a boy’s heart, too? Why must love be about conquering, anyway? What if I don’t like being chased? What if it scares me? Why do boys scare me, anyway? Why do you make me feel inferior to them? And why do I have to like a boy in order to be liked? Why am I being shamed for being a “slut”, them shamed for being “prude”? Why am I expected to adapt, obey and swallow without praise when boys who return the favour are considered grateful, dedicated lovers, heroes, almost ,because to the majority of them, it’s not fucking understood that if I make them cum, they should make me cum, too? Why am I exhausting to be with? Why am I complicated?
Is it because I’m a bitch? Because I’m an oversensitive little baby? Is it because I’m a slut? A prude virgin? Is it because I’m on my period? Cause women are just crazy? Cause I am jealous, manipulative, backstabbing, competitive or any of the other countless negative traits that are immediately connected with the female identity? All summed up, is it because I’m a girl?
I’ve asked them. And they said yes.
And when I asked “But why?”, they said it again: “It’s just how it is.”
“It” is that context, is a never ending circle of resigning acceptance of the circumstance that girls are being raised to disrespect their own gender from their childhood on. I was, and am, expected to accept the fact that being female automatically makes me inferior, and that I should be thankful for being treated equally, because that’s not the standard. I was, and am, expected to appreciate and take it as a compliment when people tell me that I’m not like other women. Because I was, and am, expected to look down on women even though I am a woman myself. But I refuse. I refuse to adapt, obey and swallow. I refuse to accept that “it’s just how it is”. I refuse to take this as an answer, and I will not stop asking why. I won’t ever stop asking why. Not because I want people to give me a proper response, but because I want them to question themselves, too. I want them to start wondering. Want them to start doubting the concept of the role I’ve learned to stick to before I knew how to spell my “typically female” name. I want them to think about it, lose their sleep about it, until they ask, too: “Why?”
In order to eliminate misogynic stereotypes, we must unlearn to understand them. We must refuse to accept “It’s just how it is” as an answer, until we forget what “it” stands for. Keep asking why, until nobody knows an answer anymore. “It’s just how it is” is not an answer. Neither is “It’s cause you’re a girl”. Or “That’s how girls are”. Because girls can be everything and anything they want to be. That’s how it really is.
I REFUSE!, a rant on how my female identity has been shaped by excuses and lies
Imagine Jensen flirting and giving you his number while you take pictures of him during an event.
“Mr Ackles! Mr Ackles right here! Here!”
“Jensen! Jensen here!”
“Mr Padalecki please here!”
“Jensen can you look here? Please!”
“Mr Padalecki, here here!”
You could almost feel dizzy at times like this, with everybody shouting around you, pushing and pulling to get a good picture of whatever celebrity it was that was walking in front of you at the moment. But it was your job. The flashes, screams and shouts, some hits here and there were all part of your job and you loved it to pieces. You were a photographer, one unlike any other though. Apart from the photoshoots you did for the numerous magazines you worked in you loved stepping outside your comfort zone and taking pictures of celebrities in whatever event it was yourself. Most of your bosses were skeptical about it at first but once you actually showed them the photos you’d take they would immediately let you do your thing. So you could say you did some of the reporter part as well.
You chuckled at everybody’s enthusiasm and continued with taking your photos, not really caring if they’d look directly at the camera. You’d taken some of the best photos in your life when they wouldn’t look in the camera and do their thing. That and maybe, just maybe, it was because you felt your breath and all words get caught in your throat whenever you noticed that the green-eyed older man was getting closer. You had a crush on him, and he was just one of the few men you really admired so much in your life – both of his work and character. Your friend’s would tease you endlessly about it but you were willing to take it. It was Jensen Ackles after all, you could take anything for him and from him.
You snapped more photos of him, looking occasionally at them to see if they were good enough. You continued, smiling softly when you saw that boyish grin that would make your heart flutter. You tilted your camera to get a better view of him and that was when you noticed it. Your breath got caught in your throat when you actually saw him look into your camera. Of course you tried to tell yourself not to think much about it because you were just another photographer in a sea of people, cameras… oh yeah and fans of course with plenty of posters and photos to sign.
But then his eyes remained focused on you and you actually frowned. You bit your lip and looked down at your camera. You glanced up only to see him take off his glasses and his smile turn into an almost smirk. The shouting kept going but he didn’t seem all that interested in any of them like his friend seemed to. You heard some whines from fans that were nearby, when he walked past them and you felt a little bad for them because they really wanted them to sign their photos.
“Jensen, Jensen please!” you heard some of them and he paused, giving them a charming grin.
“I’ll be right back, just a second yeah?” he shouted, trying to be heard over all of the noise.
Your eyes all but widened as while taking the photos you actually saw him turn in your direction and get closer. You snapped more photos but for a moment you felt frozen in your place when he flashed you that smile so you decided to focus on your camera. You looked down at it, supposedly interested in the photos you’d taken more than the man approaching you. Because he was. And how did you know that? Well:
“Hey there” you heard a deep voice say, not as deep as you were used to hearing on the show. But sure as hell your head snapped up before you could realize it.
Your eyes were wide as you looked right and left, even behind before finally meeting his eyes “Me?” you pointed at yourself and he chuckled, fixing his glasses.
“Yeah, yeah actually you. Don’t think there is a single man that would want to talk to anyone else with you in the crowd.
“I uh-” you giggled – like a freaking schoolgirl! - and looked down for a moment “Thanks, I guess?”
“Don’t thank me, miss (Y/l/n).” he shook his head, smiling a little nervously (for real?). You glanced down to see you really had your ID of sorts hanging from your neck.
“I’m sorry.” you laughed, shaking your head at realizing how stupid you really must have sounded “I just- I am trying really hard not to fangirl
“No, for real. Don’t- Don’t apologize.” he rubbed the back of his neck, glancing at Jared for a second “I am really the one that should be fanboying.” he chuckled and your eyebrows shot up.
“You- I just really admire your work, and I don’t mean just the magazines. I’ve been following your blog for as long as I can remember.” he breathed out and at that moment you felt all air get knocked out of your lungs.
You opened your mouth to speak but another voice was heard that made him look the other way “Jens?” you recognized it as Jared’s voice and once you looked back at the man in front of you, you heard him sigh.
“Always the worst timing.” he mumbled to himself and you chewed on your lower lip.
“Uhm so (Y/n)-” pursed his lips for a moment, chewing softly on it for a moment “Uh can I borrow that?” he spoke to a fan right next to you that was holding a pen for Jared as it seemed to sign along with a small photo.
“Sure” she giggled and you watched curiously.
“Thanks sweetheart.” he grinned before turning to you. You almost jumped as you felt a shock of electricity that ran through your hand once he took hold of your palm.
You saw him scribble down something before handing the pen back to the girl, just in time as Jared came to sign the photo. Jensen gave you one last big smile before he was shoved by his friend to move forward.
The last thing you heard was “See you in a week.” from before looking down to see a number written on your hand with a ‘Call me ;)’ below it.
You could swear your heart stopped beating at that moment and everything stopped functioning in general. But there was only one question that still was not answered: What was it in a week?
Context: Our fighter was transported from Fantasy Earth to the current world the campaign takes place in. After getting her phone recharged a few sessions ago, she decided to take this opportunity to take a selfie during an encounter.
DM: Alright, your turn.
Fighter: I’m not gonna attack, I’m going to turn around and take out my cellphone.
Everyone OOC: *Howling with laughter*
DM: Hold up, hold up! You do not have the Improved Selfie feat so you invoke an attack of opportunity!
Fighter OOC: That is a risk that I am willing to take!
DM: *Still laughing* Alright roll a 1d20 for your selfie.
Fighter: *Rolls a Nat 1*
Everyone is laughing really hard again.
DM: It’s so blurry that you can’t even tell what you’re trying to see. You know what your picture is? It’s you getting hit and trying to dodge and it- it just looks really bad.
The fighter only took 6 damage and she only cared about the fact that her picture was blurry while everyone else stood there confused.
request: “Hey! I’m just writing to see if I can request something along the lines of number 28 on your prompt list. I’m not gonna lie, I started laughing when I read that particular one. Oh! And is it also ok if I request it to be Marauder Era based? Thanks for your time!” + “Um, Sirius or James please!” — by @je-ss-i-ca
a/n: i was so excited to write this because it was my first imagine for sirius! hehehe. thanks for requesting and i do hope you like this! 😊 (this imagine may or may not leave you hanging. sorry wahahahah)
28. “If you say something, I won’t hesitate and slap you.”
James Potter was proving once again how he was one of the most annoying people you have come to know as he made it a point to interrogate you while you tried to go to your next class which was History of Magic. And although an unpopular opinion, you actually liked that subject that you couldn’t afford to be late — but because of his constant questions, it was impossible to walk as fast as you can to the classroom.
With a stomp of your foot, you stopped walking that made him sigh in what seemed like relief.
“James, I need to get to class. So please pester someone else.” you pleaded.
He shook his head. “But Y/N! You haven’t even answered my question. I’ve been repeating it the whole way and you keep avoiding it.”
“How many times do I have to tell you? I don’t like Sirius that way!” you exclaimed louder than planned, gaining a lot of attention. “Look, I know what you’re trying to do. You’re playing matchmaker because you and Lily just got together but come on.” you threw your hands up in expiration.
At the mention of his girlfriend’s name, you saw his cheeks turn a light shade of red.
“Er — it’s not like that, it’s just — oi! Moony!” he looked right behind you to point at another boy who was also included in your circle of friends. “You got to help me, mate. Y/N needs to realize that she and Sirius are meant to be.” he held onto Remus’ shoulder once he walked over.
Judging from Remus’ expression, it was obvious that he was trying hard not to laugh at how determined and desperate James sounded.
“Remus, please tell me you’re actually siding with me this time and not with Prongs.” you turned to him.
He finally let out the laugh he was trying to supress. “Sorry, Y/N, but I’m just glad I wasn’t the only one seeing it.”
“Oh, you got to be kidding me!” you groaned. “But okay, fine, think what you want to think. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I am really running late for —”
“History of Magic?” Remus guessed. “You might be forgetting but you have that class with James, me, and —”
“Sirius.” James finished while wiggling his eyebrows.
You wore a horrified expression on your face at the realization and you abruptly slapped them both on the chest quite hardly.
“Blimey, Y/N. What was that for?” James complained as he dramatically rubs his chest.
You narrowed your eyes on the both of them. “If you say something, I won’t hesitate and slap you. On the faces.”
Both of them mockingly raised their hands up in surrender before laughing, making you roll your eyes and finally head to the direction where the History of Magic classes where held.
You couldn’t help but be preoccupied all of the sudden because of the possibility of falling in love with Sirius Black. Well, yes, you indeed found him attractive, but who didn’t? He was funny, charming, not to mentiom very handsome in your opinion, and he made you happy which seemed to be the thing that you liked most about him …
“Y/N, over here!” Sirius waved his hand maniacally to make you look at him. When you did, he gestured to the empty seat beside him which undoubtedly was yours.
You blushed involuntarily and marched towards him slowly, placing your books on the desk while James and Remus sat down behind the both of you, now whispering to each other which made you glare at them momentarily.
“What’s going on with those two?” Sirius nodded at yours and his best friends, noticing how they were now snickering.
You shrugged. “Probably something to piss Snape or whatever.” you murmured.
It was a good thing that Professor Binns didn’t mind that the three of you were late because since it was only the second week since classes began, he urged that the students would get on with some reading first before discussing. You could see that he was scribbling some notes on the parchment in front of him with a book wide open beside it. You started wondering if you should prepare for a test in case he was planning it but in the same time —
“Why is your face so red?” Sirius whispered and when you turned to look at him, your faces were only centimeters apart.
The small distance between the both of you also made Sirius surprised that he moved away a little bit.
You felt your heart rate quicken.
“I-I don’t know what you’re talking about.” you flipped your hair over your shoulder, fanning yourself abruptly with your free hand. “Wow. It’s quite humid today, isn’t it?”
Sirius chuckled, “Humid or you’re just really nervous?”
Remus and James snickered again.
“Why would I get nervous?” you demanded at the boy beside you.
“I don’t know but something tells me it’s got something to do with Moony and Prongs.” he shrugged.
“Hmm?” James popped his head at the space between your shoulders. “I heard my name.” he whispered just as Professor Binns lifted his head momentarily to scan the room.
You stared him down. “You don’t have business here so can you just —”
James ignored what you were saying and started to talk to Sirius. “You know, Padfoot, I have a theory that I think you might agree to.”
“Potter, I’m warning you.” you spoke through gritted teeth, making sure thay it was only James who would hear.
Sirius seemed interested in what James had to say because he smirked. “Oh, really? Does it involve our precious Y/N over here?”
You swore something sparkled in James’ eyes (mischief, probably) at the mention of your name. “Definitely. Want to hear the theory?”
“No, he doesn’t.” you quickly said.
Sirius glanced at you. “Yes, I do.” he copied your tone.
“James,” you warningly stated, “remember what I told you earlier.”
He gave you a nasty grin. “Why so tense, Y/N? If it’s not true then you’re totally okay with me saying — wait, I know that look, you finally realized it too, didn’t you?”
You blushed yet again, recalling the thoughts you just had before entering the classroom.
"Yes, okay, fine, I did. So don’t do it.“ you pleaded.
Sirius sighed dramatically. "Can you two stop being so vague?”
You and James shared a look and you still asked him not to do it with your eyes. He was biting his lower lip, obviously deciding whether not to tell Sirius or not. Sirius, on the other hand, was impatiently gazing at the both of you waiting for an answer.
Before you could process everything, Remus suddenly joined the conversation and clasped Sirius’ shoulder, telling him the words you were dreading to hear.
"Sirius, we think that you and Y/N are meant to be. And judging by her reaction, she thinks so too.“ he said solemnly.
You widened your eyes, furiously blushing at that moment. Your hand was clutched on your book, contemplating on throwing the book on Remus’ face, but it was Sirius’ calm voice that made you decide against it.
"Is that so, Moony? Well, in that case, I couldn’t agree more.”
And with that, the book that you were holding dropped on the floor with a loud thud, everyone’s eyes on your table while Sirius gave you a wink before turning away like nothing happened.
“You will never guess what Malfoy has as a patronus.” Ginny giggled, her words a bit slurred from the whiskey she’d been drinking. Ron and Harry had just heard the eight years were not permitted to participate in quidditch anymore and they had decided to drown their sorrow in Hogsmeade.
“Is it a ferret?” Ron asked enthusiastic. Ginny nodded and the two gingers snorted before completely losing themselves in a laughing fit. Harry chuckled too, though he couldn’t help but feel for the blond man a bit. He’d tried so hard during DADA to cast a patronus and now everyone would laugh in his face as soon as he produced it. Still, he was not sober enough to really feel sorry for him. Maybe tomorrow.
“Although I am glad to be a source of entertainment I would like to point out that you are quite wrong.” Harry, Ginny and Ron turned around from where they were seated at the bar of the three broomsticks. Harry fell off his chair as soon as he saw the pale man in front of him.
He wore a purple Queen fan merch shirt, a leather jacket, tightly fitted black jeans and his now recently dyed pink hair fell loosely around his shoulders. If it hadn’t been for the dragonhide boots he could have passed for a muggle any day.
“You see,” Malfoy continued as he arched a questioning eyebrow at Harry who was still lying on the floor, “My patronus is not a ferret.”
He pulled out his wand, looked Harry who was still lying on the ground square in the eye and called out “Expecto patronum!”
A silvery shape burst from the tip of his wand and seconds later Harry heard the deafening laughter from both Ginny and Ron, who had clearly not looked at the patronus long enough in order to see that it was indeed not a ferret. Harry had looked long enough though, stared at it even, but he couldn’t make heads or tails of it.
“What is that?” He murmured as the animal circled Malfoy’s head, making him look like an angel.
“This,” Malfoy sighed with a smug look on his face, “is a civet. The natural enemy of the indian peacock.”
I am fairly confident you can figure out the meaning of this yourself
(side note - View of a Virgo rising, Leo sun in the 12th, Libra moon in 2nd, mercury Cancer in 11th, venus Leo in 12th, mars Leo in 11th)
was once my best friend, she made literally everything in my life brighter and always helped me to just enjoy things and stop worrying all the time. Also great hugs. Just simply has that energy, wherever it may be - physically, mentally, staying up until you binge watched that show, giving you their last money so you can get yourself something to eat before you starve to death, always down for a talk and a walk even if they had a packed schedule. Please don't miss out on times when you just have to take a day off to get your beautiful and strong energy back. I care about your health so please don't forget to eat properly and don't miss out on that quality time if needed.
a girl from my drama class and my little sisters moon sign, I am just so in love with your sense for aesthetic. Total sunshines. I feel like I can always rely on you, super compassionate and knows how to make you feel comfortable when youre not. I love that when you have a goal in your mind, you will give your everything to achieve that! Also so humble but like I want you so desperately to know how beautiful I think you are!! I enjoy your company a lot. Please don't be afraid of changes, I know that's such a mainstream thing to write for Taurus but I really do believe that maybe sometimes you need to be reminded that life can also begin at the end of your comfort zone.
a guy and a girl from biology class, I am literally stunned at how much these people know. Eloquent fluffballs. I could listen to you spreading knowledge 24/7, make great jokes in my opinion and just kind of knows... everyone?? Get along with so many people, can be very chill but also full of energy when they're talking about things they are interested in. Also fun-fact kings and queens. Please remind yourself to stay loyal to your true friends, you may know many people with whom you get along with so well and for sure everyone is intersting in their own way, but it's very possible to feel lonely in a crowd. Your closest friends will always get you out of that and help you, I promise.
a close friend of mine, literally the most caring person I've ever met. Actual comedians. I don't know I just straight up fell in love with your humour. All the Cancers I know have or had some extreme physical problems going on, please get well soon if you read this and you're also not feeling well. Mentally on the next level, strong and kind of unbreakable. Don't hide their feelings because they just know that when you bottle up your feelings it's never going to end well. They just get you and will be there for you no matter what. Please take care of yourself just as well as you do with your friends and family, you are a true blessing and it's definitely okay to rant or cry or just let it all out.
my english teacher and a guy I used to be close with, very often completely misunderstood and taken for granted, which can lead to unhealthy behaviour. Will make you feel great after a plain shit day. I strive to be this talented at just expressing myself or being confident, even if you just want the world to think you are confident when you're actually not. Cuddly queens and kings. Better not hurt their pride because it took them a lot of time to actually get to that level and in a world where people hate on you for loving yourself, to them it feels like, despite all their work, they are not worth of loving themselves. Please don't forget that although sometimes it's hard to look in the mirror and like what you see, there are caring and warm-hearted people who love you just the way you are.
a girl in my class I simply adore, I always annoy you with my endless compliments. Kind of just in love with these down-to-earth and sweet people. Either super chill or worried a lot, I wish I could just hug you until you feel less stressed. Smol but strong beans you can learn a lot from. So reliable, I actually hate doing group projects and always want to do everything myself but since you share that opinion we created something I was really proud of and now we always do them together. Please remember that passion is something you shouldn't be ashamed of, you simply don't have to be because it's something you love and your needs are valid. Also dreaming big, it's possible, especially for you so why not?
a girl I recently got to know and am already completely amazed by, literal social butterflies who sometimes only know in hindsight how much they enjoyed the company of someone because they adapt so easily and it's rare to find someone where you can just simply be yourself. Love how they view life and that they make me want to talk more. Very open and you never feel excluded because they just know how to include everyone. Please don't forget to remind yourself who you truly are and not to lose yourself in another person, because there really is only one you no matter how good you are at adapting to literally every social situation, you are amazing and I want you to be comfortable as well.
my dad and my ex boyfriend's mom, two very caring peole in their own way. I always love how sharp their sarcasm can be. Can comfort extremely well when they want to. So many secrets and things to know about them that I can lose myself in them wanting to explore whats actually behind their shell. Teaches you life lessons. Please don't forget that humans aren't flawless and that's completely okay. You don't have to hold onto old grudges, communication is key and talking about these things, confronting these people who did you wrong will help you grow as a person.
an old friend of mine, very cute people who get interested in so many things and they are so versatile and adventurous I absolutely love their lively nature. Memes™. Total dorks you can fall for in a second. Are actually the best partners to just talk to about anything because they will be interested and share their opinion with you. Please remind yourself that cutting off people can be a very wise decision and you don't have to keep up with everyones shit if that's just not what you're in for.
I am literally so attracted to these people it's unreal, although I kind of always think that they don't like me...... anyways, my bigger twin sisters are caps and they are humble souls who really had to fight for a lot in life sadly. So proud of you. Keep up with the hard work, you really deserve everything. So realistic and pure I have heart eyes. Supportive and extremely loyal. Will stand up for you if you need it. Straight face™ but still manages to make even the most serious people laugh. Please remind yourself to not overdo it with the work, take a day off to relax and let yourself go maybe, even if it's hard - with the right people you don't ever have to be afraid of being yourself.
my ex boyfriend whom I had a crush on for like 4 years, teached me great life lessons. Will always have a weakness for aquas, they just attract me so much, how much of a fluffy dork can you be tbh? Capacity of acceptance is incredible. So much fun to be with. Are kind of just good at everything? You can talk to them about anything, it won't feel weird, they won't question it and just talk to you about that topic. So friendly, an underrated trait in my opinion, just complete and simple friendliness you enjoy to the fullest. Please remind yourself to let people not only see your amazing shell but also your stunning core, there are people who love to talk about the same things you love and nothing about you is weird, you are special and I absolutely love it.
a very sweet guy I've been texting with for the past months, very open minded and also have that sensitivity I strive to have. Very inspirational smol puppy. Actual daydreamers™, may be late to school but love deeply and would never neglect your love. Kind of hate almost everything that's planned out? (I'm sorry I just love to plan things out) will hug you no matter what. Does not fear to dream big, is very talented at artsy stuff in my opinion. Please don't forget that even if it seems hard, and yes our school system is kind of very bad,we get to have that education and your dreams will be reality if you work hard enough to achieve them. You have so much potential, please don't ever waste it.
i almost forgot to make this post but in case anyone wanted to actually hear it??? here’s some things i noticed abt michael’s jared that was different from will’s
while will is very bluntly and obviously sarcastic, michael was almost sweet in the way he delivered his humor. it constantly felt like he was talking to a buddy, someone he genuinely cared about, and was making good, light-hearted jokes with them.
on that note, the whole bit of “i only talk to you so my parents will pay for stuff” was extremely unconvincing as a serious statement. once again, it was more like he was being playful than sarcastic.
when connor says “am i not laughing hard enough?” he was terrified. his line, “you’re such a freak” was delivered while afraid and almost in shock - like he didn’t expect connor to not get the joke (once again, going back to how playful everything he said was).
every time he came on stage to have a conversation with evan, he literally jumped into view, extremely giddy. it was cute and got a lot of good laughs.
the entire connor project seemed almost like a game to him. i don’t really know how to go into detail with this, it was just like… he was having fun with the whole thing. as if it wasn’t some serious, morbid situation.
at evan’s betrayal, he got very, very, scarily aggressive. it wasn’t sad aggressive, it was just violent. during “good for you,” he looked ready to literally tear down the wall or stomp a hole in the ground. it really startled me. in a weird way, it reminded me of a child throwing a tantrum ??
in conclusion: this jared didn’t cope through heavy, blunt sarcasm, but through childish, giddy, playful jokes. when his jokes went wrong (connor’s aggressive response, evan abandoning him), he became extremely emotional over it. he didn’t seem as affected by the tragic things happening throughout the play, more like he was just having fun with the whole thing. he was a massive sweetheart, on and off stage, and i love him very much