i just realized this about a minute ago

I always thought that Magnus is just fixing Alec’s jacket. You know as the reason for him to touch him. But it was just about 5 minutes ago that I realize that he is stroking his cheek too. I never saw that he brushed his finger at Alec’s cheek. No surprise that Matt couldn’t keep straight face and smiled and blushed. 

Seriously, what is wrong with me when it took me so long to get some of their touchings? 

Hot Off The Press

Another AU where Jacky-Boy is a hockey player and Bitty has a job that involves hockey bc that’s my aesthetic. Anyway, I really know nothing about how the world of sports journalism works so there is probably some inaccuracies in here, but it’s an AU so who cares. Artistic license and all that. Very slightly NSFW (i just wanted to get all the warnings out there). 

***

“Are you into men?”

Jack has been asked this question before, but in such a subtle way (and typically involving Parson) that it’s easy to avoid. No reporter has ever straight out asked him. Besides, he’s not gay. He’s bisexual. So when Jack usually tells them, “No.” it’s not a lie. However, this time it feels different. Maybe it wasn’t just this particular time, but all the times added onto each other that’s finally causing him to really think about what hole he’s digging himself into.

The blunt question has him feeling panicky and the other presser notice his reaction too. Jack can’t say no, because that’s not true. He is into men. Jack’s panic quickly shifts, and now he just feels like shoving the microphones away and storming out, because this is hockey goddammit. Not E! news.

“Excuse me?” Jack clears his throat, trying to buy himself some time to think of a properly crafted response. Over the years, he’s developed a talent for that.

But everything is on overdrive and he feels his breath start to quicken again–

“Are you into men?” Another reporter asks, and it takes Jack a moment to realize that the reporter isn’t asking him. He’s asking the man who popped the question in the first place.

 All attention, including Jack’s, turns to the small blonde that got lost in the bundle of people. He holds up his mic towards the reporter who popped the question in the first place. 

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Slight Changes || Park Jimin

Originally posted by lonastic

Word Count: 1.9k

Genre: Angst/Fluff


“You can’t be serious Y/N, it wasn’t even my fault.” You ignored Jimin’s voice as you stormed away from him and walked into the kitchen. The only thing you wanted to do right now was get away from him, but it seemed that no matter how far you got from him he would just appear right behind you again.

“Yes, Jimin, I am serious. What would make you think otherwise?” Your tone was bitter, anger flooding through you and exiting in the form of words. There was no other way for you to release it so you just had to deal with trying your best to stay calm and not completely flip out on your boyfriend. Jimin sighed loudly before speaking again, causing you to turn around and look at him.

“She was just a fan, fan’s get close. It’s not my fault.” He argued. You rolled your eyes, feeling more anger rise at the fact that he was trying to defend himself over this. The picture had been all over twitter and it seemed that ARMY’s were going crazy over it. They had been tweeting it at you, waiting for some kind of reaction, but you held back until the moment he got home and you could confront him about it.

“It’s your fault that you didn’t try to ask her to move, and it’s your fault that you didn’t mention me, you know, your girlfriend.” You said.

“God you always get like this.” Jimin’s tone surprised you, and you couldn’t help but feel a little taken aback by his words. There wasn’t anything about it that was very different, just a slight undertone of frustration that you weren’t used to. Jimin was always calm with you, even now while you were practically yelling at you he was keeping his normal tone.

“What do you mean I always get like this?” You asked.

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Dean had been hit by a truth telling spell. He had been spewing his deepest darkest secrets without a care in the world. There was one thing you wanted to know, and as much as you knew it was taking advantage of the situation, you had to know what Dean Winchester thought of you.

You looked at him as he fiddled with his gun, taking it apart and putting it back together again to keep himself from talking.

“Dean?” you questioned, touching his thigh gently. “I’ve got a question.”

He looked up at you expectantly. “Shoot, princess. I’m a straight shooter today, so it’s your lucky day,” he smiled.

“What do you really think of me? Like why did you let me come with you and Sam? You have no ties to me. I’m not blood. Why me?” you sighed finally.

Dean narrowed his eyes at you before he opened his mouth.

“I love you,” he stated simply. He looked at you like it was the most obvious answer.

“What?” you breathed, staring at his dark green eyes.

“You’re awkward and weird, and I fucking love it. You exude a confidence that is sexy as hell because you don’t give two fucks about what anyone thinks about you. You like what you like whether I tease you about it or not. You stand your ground and that is a huge turn on. You don’t let me being an ass sway you from being you. And I love you and all your quirks. Shit, I love every damn thing about you,” Dean breathed out, staring into your eyes.

You stared at him, but before you could respond, Sam came through the hotel room door.

“Is it done?” you asked. “Is the witch dead?”

Sam nodded. He looked exhausted. “Yeah, about thirty minutes ago. I’m gonna hit the shower. Dean you alright?” Sam asked Dean.

Dean nodded as your eyes met his, a look of confusion spreading across your face. “I’m way good, dude.”

Sam nodded curtly and went into the bathroom, closing the door behind him.

“Thirty minutes ago?” you breathed out.

“Yeah. I felt it,” he laughed softly, looking into your eyes.

“And everything you just said,” you barely whispered.

“The absolute fucking truth. I’m tired of pretending like it isn’t, sweetheart. That truth spell made me realize that I couldn’t keep it from you anymore. I’ve loved you from the minute you ganked that vamp,” he chuckled at the memory.

“I distinctly remember you telling it to ‘suck on that’ right after you separated its head from its body,” Dean smiled. “I knew right then you weren’t like other hunters. You’re different, and I love it,” Dean swallowed. “I love you,” he reiterated.

You stared at him, desperately trying to blink away the tears. Your weird awkwardness had always kept you in the friend zone with most guys. Most weren’t able to believe that a girl like you existed, a girl who loved video games, writing, rock music, and loved any movie that was quotable, so they always kept you at an arms length.

You thought Dean had been another guy to stick you in the friend zone, never getting any other indication from him, until now.

“You don’t believe me,” he mumbled, stepping closer to you.

“It’s not that,” you started but before you could finish, Dean’s hand landed on your neck and pulled your lips to his. He pressed his lips firmly against yours as his arm snaked around your back and pressed you into him, like he wanted the two of you to become one.

You wrapped your arms around this shoulders melted and into him. His lips and roaming hands confirmed everything his mouth had just confessed.

Dean Winchester loved you and all of you. How did a girl like you get so damn lucky?

Dog Days Are Over

Summary: You were already having a bad day, and then in walks Mr. Perfect and his best friend’s puppy. Oh, and he needs you to hurry because he’s got a blind date tonight, and he’s really nervous.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word Count: 2,993

Author’s Note: Do you know how long this has been in my drafts? Anyways, here’s more fluff. Sorry I’ve been the Ebeneezer Scrooge of fluff, but I can’t help it that I’m a cynical, angsty bitch who likes to make people suffer.

Originally posted by thespoilerwitchblog

There were certain rules to being a veterinary technician.

Number one, waterproof mascara and eyeliner always! When the customer cries, you cry. Number two, carry a lint roller on you at all times; it’s best to get the pocket-sized one, because Mr. Twinkles sheds a lot! Number three, iron your scrubs! And it’s probably best to keep an extra pair in your car, because Mrs. Comier’s Jack Russell likes to pee on people.

Even though you knew these rules by heart, and you followed them every single day of your work-life, today was an exception. It was just one of those days that absolutely nothing- no matter how hard you tried- was going right. You were covered in fluffy cat hairs, Mrs. Comier’s Jack Russell peed on your leg twice, and you had run out of waterproof mascara; so when Mr. Langley brought in his thirteen year old Labrador to put her down, he cried, and so you cried, and in the end you looked like the raccoon that liked to sneak into the office dumpsters at closing.

Today just wasn’t your day.

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( texts from last night ✉ send one for my muse's reaction )
  • ( text ) : uh, do you have my pants because i have yours
  • ( text ) : let’s play another game of whose boxers are hanging on my fence
  • ( text ) : update. a gay guy just told me that i’m the most beautiful thing with a vagina he has ever seen. how should i feel about this?
  • ( text ) : i’m sorry about all the inappropriate shoe throwing.
  • ( text ) : you killed a bottle of bacardi in 20 minutes. so much for being an organ donor.
  • ( text ) : why can’t burritos get me drunk?
  • ( text ) : i know you’re on a date and i should leave you alone, but about twenty minutes ago, i realized i haven’t been spanked in years so if you’re still looking for a birthday present, you know, consider it.
  • ( text ) : why is my bath tub filled with mud?
  • ( text ) : i’ve noticed we slowly have begun to phase the “b” out of our bromace.
  • ( text ) : you just jumped of the couch and yelled “hidden tiger crouching dragon!” that’s the answer to how you broke your finger.
  • ( text ) : this is what my life has come to. drinking champagne alone yelling at the dog because no one wants to hang out with me
  • ( text ) : if i open my eyes, my head will explode. that hungover.
  • ( text ) : apparently all year, they’ve been using me as a standard for drunkenness.
  • ( text ) : all i’m saying is that your next houseguest had better not barge in on me in the shower demanding i wash the stolen dye from his hair. i’m not doing that a second time.
  • ( text ) : i need to stop drunkenly getting naked. i’m losing all my party clothes.
  • ( text ) : please make the clown in the corner stop judging me. i mean he’s the one with paint on his face. i don’t need him judge judying me.
  • ( text ) : sooooo, how am i supposed to explain to my mom that i was admitted to the hospital, but you kidnapped me within 20 minutes?
  • ( text ) : hey remember that thing i said about never apologizing for being a hot mess? well that was before you found me drunk in the hallway with no pants.
  • ( text ) : so much for not drinking this week after this weekend. congrats, you made it until tuesday.
  • ( text ) : i just remembered that someone fed me a pretzel out of their purse at the bar last night.
AU where Harry isn’t the BWL but his Invisibility Cloak is a horcrux

Can you imagine the look on Dumbledore’s face later in the AU when he realizes he gave Harry Potter a horcrux?????

And Harry is just like, this is my cloak. Mine. Give it to you so you can destroy it? Hell-to-the-fucking-no.

Also imagine all the cloak shenanigans when Harry is sneaking around the school. “WOULD YOU STOP YOU’RE GOING TO GET ME CAUGHT.” “Well maybe you should’ve thought about that when you ignored me five minutes ago.” “For fuck’s sake Tom–Filtch’s cat was three feet away.” “And?”

When Voldemort tries to get his horcrux back. “Dispose of the boy.” “No, bring him with us.” “I will not.” “I’m not going with you unless you’re bringing him with us.” “…”

War allies

Pairing: T’Challa x Reader

Warnings: It’s sometimes sad, but overall cute. Mentions of torture.

Summary: After the events in the Leipzig airport, queen (Y/N) is taken to the Raft and tortued to say something about the whereabouts of Captain Rogers; she endures everything and even got rescued by a fellow monarch whom she knew from a life that she thought she would never get back to. Diplomacy is key.

A/N: Feedback is love.


Originally posted by miscellame

“What you did to them was not as cruel as what they did to you.”

It was the first thing (Y/N) typed down. She was home at last, and more or less safe and she firmly needed to believe her own words.

The medical team that took care of her told her that if she wasn’t keen on talking, she could probably write things down, let her memory and fingers do the job, but that was easier said than done; especially when her memory only played the same images again and again. She took a deep breath, feeling her chest inflate with the income and slowly exhaled everything away. The thoughts wandered in and out, and following her meditation teacher’s instructions, she tried not to make a whole story around them.

It all begun in Vienna. I shouldn’t have gone. I shouldn’t have been there. I shouldn’t. I shouldn’t. I shouldn’t. I shouldn’t. I shouldn’t. But I did. I went there and I can’t change that. I was there only to hear what fat men wanted from people with powers; people like me. But I am not their property and I don’t want them to register me or mark me as something I am not. I am a queen, I am a ruler and I am powerful. I am graceful in what I do and god knows I am. I just wanted people to feel better, but their emotions turned confusing and I just couldn’t do that anymore.

By the end of her first stream of consciousness session, (Y/N) was already shaking and crying. She grabbed her head in her hands tightly, trying to shake away all the images that followed those inauspicious events. Leipzig, and then the Raft. She remembered hiding in the shadows, unbeknownst to everyone, as she toyed and manipulated their anger and their feelings of blind justice.

Captain Rogers had hidden friends outside the avengers, and she was a most appreciated one, so it was not a surprise when he told her to please help him out with a little something. He mentioned the dangers and the exposure, but he also explained how important it was for him to have his friend back and the accords not signed. (Y/N) understood that very well. The meaning of family and the promise of a free life.

Once she was there, hiding behind the structures, containers and trucks, she felt a familiar presence. But she could not recognize anybody; not their breathing and not her thoughts. She moved around like the shadows and with them, trying to remain unseen from everyone. But then the fight was over and the million tricks under her sleeve were gone and people were dragging her to a plane to throw her into a prison in the middle of the ocean. The Raft, they called it.

There she met her fellow inmates, the archer, the man that could shrink, the man with the wings and the woman with the mental abilities. She could not escape and she could not use her powers to feel less lonely. Little by little, she locked herself into her own mind, unwilling to maintain a conversation with anybody, and each passing day she seemed more and more unbreakable, even though she was tortured in several ways to get the information about Captain Rogers and his whereabouts. She knew and believed in the value of loyalty, even if it meant rotting in her cell.

She was about to give up on everything and everyone, but then she saw the light, or more like the light going off. Steve Rogers appeared, almost horrified by what happened to his dearest friends and allies. Cap’s team was taken to Wakanda, a nation she didn’t know she knew.

They were all welcomed by the king himself, a tall man of dark complexion; he irradiated authority and kindness, even though he saw before him the people that he once tried so hard to get rid of. (Y/N) felt even smaller next to him; being a queen herself, she knew in her heart that she wasn’t as good as he was. People around him smiled as they vowed their heads, but when her people passed by, they bowed their heads in fear.

King T’Challa was a very caring man, not only for his people, but for people he didn’t know too. He was in charge of all the attentions the newly arrived would have; from their bedrooms to the different recovery therapies they would be under. Each one of them different for each member.

The physical therapy was one thing, getting regular check-ups with the castle’s medical team, but then there were the therapy sessions that (Y/N) dreaded to attend. T’Challa was informed of this and of course he worried, he wanted everyone to be as mentally healthy as possible, even though he understood if it took a long time.

The king decided to ask (Y/N) why wasn’t she attending the sessions and if there was another thing she’d like to try so he could make the arrangements for it to be done, but before he could put the question into words, she had already disappeared.

The queen came back to her own palace, in the safety of her walls and the safety of her people. She still thought about T’Challa and the brief encounters they did happen to have. She couldn’t escape all day from him, and even though she never tried to, she still had little to no words to say to him other than answering his questions. Among those questions, there was the moment when he found out she was a queen also, a very young one; younger than him. Later he found out that his deceased father was once an ally with hers, and a light-bulb lighted up inside his mind.

“You got a letter, your highness.” One of the maidens said, carrying with her a golden envelope with the queen’s name on it. The queen didn’t pay much attention until the maid said where it came from.  “This comes from Wakanda.” (Y/N) turned her head to look at the envelope and reached out her hand for it to be handed to her.

“Thank you.” The queen bowed her head and smiled lightly, and the maid turned on her heels and left (Y/N) alone again with the pile of papers she still had to revise.

Ever since (Y/N) came back to her lands, everything was busier than ever. The world was now aware of her secret society and trying to get the press away from the limits was a terribly exhausting job. She was not very good at the social contact and she preferred not to do it anyway; she had people to take care of public relationships, but there was one thing she couldn’t escape from. Diplomacy.

She opened the letter to find a handwritten message.

“Dearest (Y/N),

I hope this letter finds you well. It’s been a few months since you left Wakanda without even saying goodbye and I believe we have a few matters to discuss. Political ones mostly, but I suppose we can find the time to discuss other things.

As you might be aware of, our fathers shared a close friendship, and both kingdoms were war allies before and we also did a lot of commerce; that is relationship that I wish to re-build now that we have become public personas and that we have properly met (the circumstances were terrible, but at least everyone got something positive out of it). Would it be okay if I ask you out for dinner soon? Whatever your answer may be, reply this letter as soon as possible and I’ll make the arrangements to meet your convenience.

Looking forward to hear from you.

Faithfully yours,

T’Challa.”

(Y/N) held the letter for a few more minutes before she could realize that she was thinking about the ruler of the peaceful kingdom that received her just months ago. She was still surprised that he did it, and on top of that, he was asking to meet her again. Yes, they had some important topics to discuss, but for the words and their underlying meaning, he was quite eager to see her.

She took a deep breath and wrote the reply herself. She didn’t want to waste any other precious second. She called the same maiden and asked to send the letter away and that it was extremely important that she made sure it would arrive as soon as it could be.

The venue for their dinner would be the gorgeous city of Marrakesh; they agreed that a neutral place was the best option for their not-official diplomatic meeting. (Y/N) appeared in a restaurant wearing a tight black dress. It had no back, and the cleavage was low, but not low enough to show her breasts or to look tacky. T’Challa was blown away by her beauty; he remembered quite well the girl in his palace, but the girl back then used to hide herself under baggy clothes, or hide herself in her bedroom if possible.

“It’s nice to see you out,” T’Challa commented as he conducted her to their table, “how are you feeling?”

“It’s hard to get back on track,” she nodded, feeling the weight of her words, “but I got some good people to take care of me.”

The drinks started to pour on their glasses and the food arrived to them. Spicy food was one thing, but the dishes there were more condiments than actual ingredients. It was a fun meal, and even though they could not speak very much, the looks they shared said more than a hundred words.

(Y/N) felt how he observed her every move, from the way she ate, to the way her lips captured the glass and the liquid went down her throat. She started to like the way that his feelings were so out there, she was not even having an insight of his mind, but instead; he was giving it all away as if he wanted her to witness everything that he was going through.

“It’s kinda funny to think our parents were once allies,” (Y/N) started, “I still have your father in my memory. He’s one of the memories I cherish the most.” She smiled almost to herself. “I remember that he gave me, for one of my birthdays, a small sculpture of a panther.” She giggled heartedly. “I never thought I’d learn the hard way that apparently the panther is the national animal in Wakanda.”

“I actually made that,” T’Challa admitted, scratching the back of his neck and feeling a strong warmth spreading through his face, “and I wanted to give it to you so badly, because you were the only other child I knew that knew exactly what I was going through, but I got sick the few days before that and… I was bound to be in bed for about a week so… I was destroyed by that.” He chuckled. Just a few seconds after, they fell silent. They searched in each other’s eyes for conversation, and that was enough, but T’Challa broke the silence between them. “You know, I spent my teenage years imagining how you had grown up, and if there could be a chance of us keeping a future together—for the sake of our kingdoms, of course.” He hurried to add.

“That’s a heavy wonder to carry for a teenage boy.” (Y/N) conceded, swirling the liquid in the glass with her powers. She was absent minded, thinking about the little boy she once met; it was hard to believe that the boy had grown up into such a majestic man, not to mention how handsome he was. She shook her head, as if it made the thoughts go away, but she still had in mind the words he said, and how he thought about the future. “You know, my father was not a very sentimental man, and he was most probably worried about the future of the people rather than my future, but he always said that it would’ve been a good idea to keep relations with Wakanda.” She pursed her lips into a smile. “He said, it was one of dreams to see me married to the heir. And now that I know him… I believe my father knew what he talked about.”

“And what is that?”

“He must have had some idea about the kind of man you have turned into.” She exhaled heavily and let her back rest comfortably on the chair. “I’m not the kind of girl that’s good with words, let alone those words being about my inner thoughts and the mind beyond my mind, so I’ll say this quickly: I like you, and I like the man you’ve become. I like you because you took care of me like no one else would have, even though I was the one who made you feel so enraged. I’ve done a lot of bad things in my life, and playing with your feelings was one. If you want me to answer your teenage question: yes, there is a chance of keeping our kingdoms together, but I don’t want to be with you because of that, I want to be with you because the feeling is corresponded. If not—”

“I thought those words would never come.” T’Challa chuckled. “I’ve been thinking about those words since I can remember, and… they feel a hundred times better.” He rested his elbows on the table and reached out for (Y/N)’s hands, but she couldn’t move. “I’ve been in love with you, and the thought of you for long, and you can’t imagine how broken my heart was when I saw you under arrest… and what they did to you at the Raft…” He clenched his fists and his knuckles whitened from the strength used. “I couldn’t stand it. I mean, the thought of what you went through still keeps me up at night.” He stopped for a few seconds, just to get his thoughts straight. “I don’t care about what you did; that’s buried in the past and I have no interest in bringing it back. I like who you are now, and I want to learn from you… Let’s give this a try, and if this does not meet your expectations, or if something happens along the way, just promise me you’ll be as sincere as you have been throughout the night.”

“I—I will.” (Y/N) stammered nervously, as she timidly intertwined her hands with T’Challa’s. She smiled at the contact between them; it was so childish, so innocent, but she knew she was making the right decision. “I’m just so… I thought that, once you found out that it was me who toyed with everyone’s mind and that I was involved with Captain Rogers, you’d shut me out and probably you wouldn’t even talk to me about diplomacy… I thought you’d… exile me out of your life.” She said, with a taint of gloominess in her voice. Her fingers gently traced the veins on the back of T’Challa’s hand. She took a deep breath, experiencing in first person the feelings that occupied the mind and heart of the king. “Have you always been this intense?” She giggled when she saw herself affected by the king’s lust.

“Only when the woman I’ve loved all my life is wearing something like that.” T’Challa smiled slyly, not even feeling intimidated by being busted. He let go of (Y/N)’s hands and stood up to take a few steps next to her. “May I take the fun somewhere else?” He offered his hand.

“Yes,” she nodded, taking the hand and standing up, “you may…” Before T’Challa started to walk away with her, she tugged at his arm and made him turn around to pull him closer to her and kiss those plump lips that had hypnotized her all night long. His kiss was soft, and his hands on her hips were even softer. She held on tightly to him, feeling every inch of his body mold to hers and his muscles tightening. She pulled away, needing some air to think straight. “Perhaps we could take the fun to my room… My king.” She breathed to his ear, knowing the reaction it would have in him.

“I can take care of myself.”

Sequel to “Someone like me doesn’t get happy endings.” 

Word count: 1770

Warnings: blood, broken ribs, angst

Originally posted by wintersthighs

It had been weeks since that night you found Bucky in the kitchen, bleeding, and if he ignored you before, you may as well not exist to him now. When you trained in the gym, his eyes sought everywhere except your face; when you ate with the rest of the team he would leave the room and when he passed you in the pale white hallways, he was like a horse wearing blinders. His coldness shocked you at first because that night, you felt like a barrier had finally been broken down between the two of you; you hardly let anyone get that close to you and the way he avoided you like the plague hurt you more than you thought possible.

Eventually, you were paired together by Steve and Natasha who could see your compatibility on the battlefield. If he needed you somewhere, you were there without him so much as moving a muscle, and vice versa. It was like a certain telepathy had formed between the two of you and anyone could see the bond you had with him, except for him. Or he just refused to acknowledge it. Either way, the only time you interacted was on the battlefield and the only words exchanged between you two were about missions. Neither of you brought up that night in the kitchen and it may as well never have happened for all he cared.

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Every Other Weekend pt. 3

Prompt: After five years of marriage and two kids, you and Bucky decide you can’t make it work anymore.

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word Count: 1,462

Warnings: divorce, angst, cheating

A/N: well here we go! the next part is here. enjoy (:

Tagged: @defendors @thorne93 @winterboobaer @marvelfandom-stuff @all-around-geek @cchrriissuuu@katexbishopx @justreadingfics @frolicsomefawkes @dasani-saraai @awwtommo @aenna-4@courtneychicken @lorenaheartsyou @goldwanderer @irepeldirt @sebastianstantrash @tardisin221bst @ok-ladies-lets-get-in-formation @redroomproperty @elegantnightmareshiro @stomachfilledwithbutterflies 

Part 1 Part 2

——

Originally posted by captaincentenarian

“Every other weekend.” You nodded, looking over the plethora of paperwork on the kitchen island. “That sounds fair to me.”

“Okay. What about holidays?” Bucky stood across from you, his arms crossed over his chest.

“Would it be possible to have joint holidays? Can you stomach me long enough to do that for them?” You looked up hoping to meet Bucky’s gaze, but he looked away from you immediately. “James?”

“That’s fine.” Bucky sighed, standing up straight. “Just get the papers signed okay?”

“Yeah, I’ll get right on it.” You rolled your eyes, burying them underneath a stack of mail.

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anonymous asked:

U should write more of that prompt w/ badass!harry but at the part where harry finally shows Draco the tattoos on his back

I’ve gotten so many requests for this, and I actually wrote a second part a while ago, but never posted it, so I decided it’s finally time that I do 😁 just a warning that it is very long

My Writing

Part One


Draco and Harry kept talking until they realized there were only five minutes left until they arrived at Hogwarts. They both quickly threw their robes on and gathered their things.

“Excited?” Harry asked as they felt the train slowing down.

“Um…I guess so,” Draco said quietly, not meeting Harry’s eyes.

Harry was about to respond when someone burst through the door to the compartment.

Ron.

“Harry! Mate! We’re sorry we never got to come sit with you, we-” Ron realized Harry wasn’t the only one in there, and he narrowed his eyes at Draco. “What’s he doing here?” Ron spat out.

“We were keeping each other company,” Harry said flatly.

“No company at all is surely better than his company.” Ron glared at Draco as he spoke to Harry.

“I guess we’ll have to agree to disagree, then. I’ve found that Draco is actually a lot better company than some of the other people I’ve found myself spending time with…or maybe not so much time with…anymore,” Harry said bitterly and then, “Come on, Draco. Let’s go get a carriage before they’re all full.”

Harry grabbed Draco’s arm and pulled him out to the carriages.

Ron knew exactly what Harry was talking about. Ever since the war, Harry was, and understandably so, much different than he used to be. And Ron was too, of course, just not as much of a drastic change. It’s not that he didn’t want to hang out with Harry. It was just that it wasn’t the same anymore. It wasn’t just a laugh all the time. A lot of times Ron would say something, just making normal conversation, and they would be like triggers to Harry. So many things now reminded Harry of his traumatic experiences, and it was hard for Ron to tiptoe around all of them. And Ron also liked spending some time alone with Hermione now, which of course took time away from being with Harry. Hermione felt the same way in regards to Harry, but said that they just needed to give him some time and space and he’d come around.

“Potter…” Draco said carefully, sensing his anger and not wanting to set him off.

Harry didn’t respond and Draco felt Harry tighten his grip on his wrist as he continued to pull him along. It wasn’t until they got by the carriages and Harry saw the thestrals that his grip loosened, but he still didn’t let go.

Harry stood there and stared at them for several minutes, no doubt picturing all the deaths he was forced to witness over the past few years, Draco knew this.

“Potter,” Draco tried again, but to no avail.

“Harry.”

Harry’s head snapped back to look at Draco at the sound of his first name. Draco blushed.

“Harry, c’mon. Let’s get in the carriage, yeah?” He asked softly. He knew he had to be careful with how and what he said right now. Harry was upset and he didn’t want to make it worse.

“Yeah…okay,” Harry responded quietly, but made no move to get in.

Draco slid his wrist from Harry’s now slack grip, and placed his own hand around Harry’s wrist, gently tugging him.

Harry followed easily and got into the carriage with Draco.

Harry sighed.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered, looking down at his hands.

“It’s okay…you didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Ron, Hermione, and I aren’t as close as we used to be.”

Draco was shocked Harry was telling him this information.

“They’ve never said anything to me, but I know. I know they think I’m like…depressed and stuff. I know they don’t think I’m fun to be around.”

“I’m sure they don’t think that.”

“They do. I heard them say it. They obviously didn’t think that I could hear them, but I could.”

“Well, if it’s any consolation, I think you’re very fun to be around.”

Harry looked up and smiled at Draco. Just like when they were on the train and Harry started laughing at Draco’s expense, Draco’s breath caught in his throat. It was just such a nice smile, and the laugh was such a nice sound. Nice…and genuine. Not the fake act that Harry so often put up now. It was real, and Draco loved it.

They sat next to each other in a comfortable silence. That was until Ron and Hermione entered their carriage just seconds before they started to move. Draco felt Harry tense up next to him upon their arrival.

The two of them quietly took their seats and then looked at Harry.

“Harry, Hermione and I are really sorry that we haven’t been hanging out with as often anymore. We know that you’re going through-”

“It’s fine,” Harry cut him off, not wanting to hear it.

“Harry, no,” Hermione interjected.

“Really guys. It’s okay. It’s mostly my fault anyway, and I get that you want some time for just the two of you. I know how relationships work. So it’s fine. We’re fine. Just drop it, okay? Please.”

The two of them just nodded, not sure of what to say.

Hermione then cleared her throat and turned to Draco.

“So, how was your summer, Draco?”

Draco could tell she was clearly trying to break up the obvious tension between him, Ron, and herself.

“Fine, thanks,” Draco said politely. That was far from the truth, but he didn’t really feel like sharing his family problems with her. He knew that the courteous thing to do would have been to ask her how her summer was, but Draco didn’t really care, and didn’t feel like pretending that he did. He didn’t care about blood-status anymore, so that’s not why he was being semi-rude, he just didn’t like her.

Their carriage finally arrived at the castle and Draco nearly sighed in relief. They got out and headed to the Great Hall. When they got into the castle, McGonagall was standing there waiting for the 8th years, much like their first year. McGonagall looked at Harry and he could see the shock on her face at his new appearance. She smiled at him nonetheless, and Harry gave her a smile back. He always had a soft spot for her.

“Since we are lacking space in your old house dormitories, we have set up one specifically for eighth years. They’re set up much like the other ones, but we understand that you all are older and need more privacy now. We have arranged them so that each person has their own room.The rooms aren’t large, but there isn’t much reason to do anything but sleep in them, really. Each has a door with your name on it. That will be your room. I will show you to your dorms after the feast.”

She then walked away to get ready for the sorting, and the eighth years made their way into the Great Hall, where there was also a table designated just for them. Everyone in the hall gasped and looked at Harry, some even pointing. He heard murmurs of, “tattoos…piercing…hair”.

Everyone around Harry was talking excitedly about the new dorms and table just for them. Harry didn’t really care, but he supposed it would be nice to have a little privacy.

“Our own rooms, mate!” Ron said and slapped Harry on the back.

“Yeah…should be cool.” Harry forced out a laugh.

Ron smiled, clearly satisfied with Harry’s response.

Harry took a seat next to Draco and away from Ron and Hermione. He just didn’t really feel like talking to anyone at the moment.

The sorting started, but Harry didn’t pay attention. He didn’t care. The feast then started, but again, Harry didn’t care. He didn’t even touch the food. He just stared straight ahead and began thinking about Dobby and how much he would be enjoying working in the kitchens again now that school had started. Harry kept thinking himself sadder and sadder until something snapped him out of his thoughts.

“Harry?”

“Sorry, just thinking. What is it?”

“I was just saying that you should eat something…you haven’t all day.”

Draco looked at him in concern.

“Oh. No, I’m okay. Not hungry, really.”

“If Dobby were here, could you imagine how happy he would be to know that his friend was enjoying the food he had made?” Draco knew he was pressing his luck saying this. He wasn’t sure how Harry would react.

Fortunately, though, it was a good reaction. A small smile had replaced Harry’s frown and he began putting some food on his plate.

After the feast, McGonagall showed them their new dorm. It was decorated in all 4 house colors, and everyone looked around in awe. She then pulled Harry aside.

“How are you, Potter?” She asked him, concern evident in her eyes.

“Oh I’m…you know, as good as you can be after…” he trailed off.

“I understand. Just know that if you need anything, you can always come to me.”

“Thanks, Professor,” he told her with a smile.

“Oh and Potter, I noticed you and Mr. Malfoy sitting by each other and talking. Are you two, perhaps, friends now?”

Harry smiled.

“Something like that.”

She nodded and then added, “I like the new look, too, by the way. Your hair, it’s nice.” She smiled and then walked away.

Harry chuckled. He knew she was lying, but appreciated her effort at making him feel better.

Harry headed up to the boys’ dorm and found the door with his name on it. He looked around and saw that the rooms were set up in pods of two. He smiled when he saw Draco was the person he’d be sharing the area with.

Harry went into his room and saw his things laying at the foot of the bed. He changed into his pajamas and jumped into bed. He wasn’t in the mood to socialize with everyone. He was frustrated because he knew his declining friendship with Ron and Hermione was his own fault, but he just couldn’t stop isolating himself, not only from them, but from everyone. Despite his frustration, though, Harry began thinking about his new friendship with Draco, and how he wanted it to be more than that, and how he wanted to show him his secret tattoos. And to those thoughts, Harry was able to fall asleep quickly.

His sleep was not nearly as peaceful as it was quick, though. He soon fell into a nightmare. It was about the war, just like the ones he always had.

Harry was woken up from his nightmare, however, by a warm hand gently shaking him.

“Harry…Harry it’s okay. Wake up,” the voice said distantly.

Harry slowly opened his eyes and could just make out a shape in the darkness, He jumped at the sight.

“Hey, it’s okay. It’s just me.”

“Draco?”

“The one and only.”

“What are you doing in here?” Harry asked with a shaky voice.

Draco turned the lights on and then walked back over to Harry.

“I was about to go to bed, but I heard you screaming…you were having a nightmare.”

Harry looked away, blushing.

“Sorry,” he said, almost inaudibly.

“It’s not your fault, Harry. It’s fine.”

Harry could still feel himself shaking from the nightmare, and felt even more embarrassed.

Draco gently tugged on his shirt. Harry startled at the action.

“It’s okay, Harry. I’m not going to hurt you. Let’s get this shirt off, okay? You’re drenched in sweat.” Draco pushed back the hair that was stuck to Harry’s sweaty face.

Harry was tired and didn’t want to put up a fight, but he remembered his tattoos. He knew he wanted Draco to see them, but not now, not like this.

“No, no. S’fine,” Harry mumbled.

“It’s not fine, Harry. C’mon, sit up.”

Draco pulled Harry into a sitting position and then pulled all of Harry’s hair back and put it up into his signature bun for him, keeping it out of the way.

“I-I can do it,” Harry trembled out, still shaken from the nightmare.

Draco rolled his eyes.

“Stop being stubborn, Potter. Now lift,” Draco said, nodding towards his arms.

Harry sighed in defeat. If there was one person that was more stubborn than him, it was Draco Malfoy. Harry lifted his arms.

Draco pulled the shirt up and over Harry’s head, he took in the tattoos on Harry’s chest, but then just walked over to the bathroom, not saying anything. Draco knew that now was not the time. He came back from the bathroom with a damp cloth. He scooted Harry over a bit and sat down next to him.

He gently began wiping the sweat from Harry’s face and body. The cloth was cool on Harry’s skin and he let out a gasp when it touched him.

“Oh yeah. It might be cold.”

Harry chuckled quietly and just let Draco run the cloth over his body.

“Over,” Draco murmured.

Harry turned, now uncaring if Draco saw that tattoo on his back.

Draco wiped the cloth up and down his back, paying special attention to a place on the back of his shoulder. Draco finished and walked back to the bathroom to put the cloth back.

“Better?” He asked.

Harry nodded.

“Thank you.”

“Anytime, Potter.”

“I like it better when you call me Harry, you know.”

Draco was surprised at this.

“Okay. Harry it is. Lay down now, you need to sleep,” He said while helping Harry back into a laying position and covering him with the blankets.

“Could you…stay?” Harry blushed.

Draco didn’t say anything, but climbed into the bed and under the covers with Harry, who had his back to Draco now.

“Nox,” Draco whispered and the room went dark again.

Draco quickly got comfortable, and then slung his arm around Harry’s waist and pulled him in so they were pressed up to each other, back-to-chest. Harry quickly fell asleep again, and Draco soon after.

They woke up the next morning to the sun shining brightly into Harry’s room.

Harry had forgotten what happened during the night and jumped a little when he felt a body behind him.

“Relax, love. You’re fine,” Draco mumbled, still half asleep.

Harry blushed at the nickname, but then relaxed back into Draco’s touch.

“Mm,” Draco hummed in response to Harry’s now relaxed body.

Harry turned so he could face Draco. Draco lifted his arm so Harry could move, but then quickly returned it, this time on his back. He began to absentmindedly rub circles onto it.

Harry sighed, content.

Draco then opened his eyes, meeting two bright green irises. He smiled at Harry.

“G’morning,” Draco said and then yawned.

“Morning!” Harry said brightly.

“Someone’s in a good mood this morning,” Draco commented.

“Yes, well, it’s not everyday that I wake up with a very attractive blond in my bed,” Harry said boldly. What did he have to lose?

“Oh?” Draco inquired with a raised eyebrow.

“Yup!”

“Well it could be everyday…if you want.”

Harry blushed at that. He wasn’t expecting it.

“I-I might.”

“Good. Because I could get used to this.”

Draco then sat up and stretched.

“So,” Draco began, now looking down at Harry who was still laying. “When did you plan on telling me about these?” Draco asked as he traced a finger around the lily.

Harry’s heartbeat sped up at the contact.

“Soon…” Harry said shyly.

“Oh really?”

“Yes. I just…didn’t think telling you after I had just woken you up with a blood curdling scream from a nightmare would’ve been the best time,” Harry joked.

Draco chuckled.

“I wouldn’t have minded.”

Harry blushed but gave him a smile.

“Well, that one,” Harry said, referring to the flower Draco was running his fingers along, “is for my mother, who saved my life when I was a baby…as I’m sure you know by now.”

“Mm. I figured as much…and this one?” He said, moving his fingers across to the other flower.

“Is um…well I’m not sure if you know this, but you’re mother, she kind of saved my life. She said I was-”

“I know,” Draco said, cutting him off. He knew Harry didn’t want to go too much into depth about his memories of the war.

“Right. So a narcissus flower for your mother, Narcissa…for saving my life.”

“Clever,” Draco teased. “So, two flowers for the two people who saved your life,” he confirmed.

“Yes. But there was a third person who saved my life, too.”

Harry met Draco’s grey eyes before turning over.

“I like this one,” Draco said quietly, tracing the green dragon.

“It’s my favorite. You see, this boy I know, you might know him too, he didn’t give me up to Voldemort after I was captured and brought to his house. He didn’t tell them it was me, even though we had years of fighting and hating each other behind us. If it weren’t for him, I would have been killed then.”

“I never hated you,” Draco said and leaned down to press a soft kiss to the wing of the dragon.

Harry sucked in a breath when he felt Draco’s warm lips on his skin.

“I-I didn’t hate you either.”

“Good,” Draco mumbled into Harry’s skin, covering the dragon with kisses.

Draco moved to kiss down Harry’s spine.

“Draco,” Harry breathed out.

Draco kissed down to the waistband of Harry’s pants.

“You were right, Harry. I would love to have a look at your arse.” He kissed back up to Harry’s shoulders. “But we can save that for a different time.”

Draco flipped Harry over and found Harry blushing deeply, but grinning up at him.

“You’re beautiful,” Draco murmured. “Your cheeks.” He placed a kiss to each blushing cheek. “Your jaw.” Kiss. “Your neck.” Several kisses, maybe even a bite, which Harry let out a quiet whimper at. “Your nose.” Kiss. “Your eyes.” Two featherlight kisses to Harry’s eyelids. “Your messy hair.” A kiss to the top of Harry’s head. “Your stupid scar.” Harry chuckled as Draco pressed a soft kiss to the lightening-bolt shape on his forehead. “And, of course, your lips.”

Draco smashed his lips onto Harry’s. Harry immediately wrapped his arms around Draco’s neck. Draco sat so he was straddling Harry’s waist. They kissed for several minutes, and when Draco lightly tugged at Harry’s lip ring and then slid his tongue into Harry’s mouth, Harry let out a loud moan. They kissed until they had to pull away for breath.

“I should have done that years ago.”

Harry smiled lazily and mumbled his agreement. Draco just laughed and pressed one more short kiss to Harry’s lips before standing up and stretching.

After that day, things were different. But for the better. Draco was the missing piece Harry needed. He was much happier and almost back to his old self. His friendship with Ron and Hermione was as good as ever. Draco is responsible for that. He would make Harry hang out with them or invite them to be with himself and Harry. He told Harry he didn’t want to see him lose such a good friendship. Ron and Hermione weren’t thrilled about Harry being with Draco, of all people, at first, but after seeing how happy they made each other, they were fine with it. Harry rarely felt so cripplingly sad anymore, like he so often used to, because Draco was always there to brighten his day. Sure he got sad from time to time, and even if Draco couldn’t do anything to make it better, he’d just sit with Harry and tell him how much he loves him. And that was enough.

Harry made things better for Draco, too. People no longer sneered and insulted him when they saw him. No one called him “the death eater” anymore. Draco brought Harry home to the Manor that year for Christmas. He was trembling with nerves because who knew what his parents would think. But Harry had calmed him down. Told him to relax. “If they don’t like me, I’ll live Draco. They wouldn’t be the first people.” His mother took an instant liking to Harry. Lucius, not so much. But Harry never gave up, and Lucius finally warmed up to him. Harry was always there to hold Draco when he was feeling bad about himself. He would always tell him that he was lovely and that he made Harry the happiest person in the world.

After a year of dating, Draco went to a muggle tattoo shop and got a lightening bolt tattoo. Harry got a second tattoo for the person he loved. He got the Draco constellation tattooed across his back.

Three years after that, Harry got something else that would always keep him connected to Draco: a ring. Draco had proposed to him on September 1st, a day that was special to both of them. The day that their friendship, that quickly led to their relationship started. The day that changed everything. The most important day of their lives.

Awkward Acceptance Speech Part 1/2(Tom Holland Imagine)

Prompt: Imagine that you’re an actress and while accepting an award, you let it slide that you have a crush on Tom Holland. Part Two

Tom Holland x Reader, words: 1115, requested?: no, warning: none

Requests are Open

A/N: Two imagines in one night?? Whuutttt??? Requests are open! Likes and reblogs are welcome! Tell me if you like my writing. :)

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

“I’m your husband. It’s my job.” “ Did they hurt you?” with Bucky please ?

51. “I’m your husband. It’s my job.”

94. “Did they hurt you?” 

“How bad is it, Bruce?” You questioned through gritted teeth. You bit back the urge to scream as Dr. Banner’s nimble, feather-like fingers inspected the throbbing wound on your left shoulder. 

It had all began as a simple reconnaissance mission with Natasha. A quick, two-day assignment to gather the necessary intel for an upcoming raid mission on a Hydra base. Much to your dismay, the assignment had involved far more bullets, fist fights, and explosives than initially expected. Natasha had been able to escape with only a few minor cuts and bruises. But you, had not been quite as lucky. In addition to several nasty bruises and a large gash across your forehead, you had been grazed with what Natasha described as an “advanced bullshit Hydra bullet.”

“You were very lucky.” Bruce paused before continuing. “The graze is only about two centimeters deep and from the severe discoloration around the edges of the wound, there’s definitely some kind of insect or reptilian poison.”

“Poison? Fuck, am I gonna die?” You felt panic swirl in the center of your chest, radiating hotly and uncomfortably to the rest of your body. 

“No, don’t be ridiculous.” Natasha snorted at the sound of Bruce’s reply, earning a cautionary glare from the Doctor. 

“I’m just going to clean the wound thoroughly, administer a mild steroid to help with the swelling, a quick antibiotic shot, and finish up with some stitches.” Bruce carefully explained, moving from your side to gather all the required supplies. 

“Stiches?! What the hell happened?!” Bucky’s thunderous voice resounded through the laboratory, your eyes widening as large a saucers. 

“Come down, soldat, it’s just a bullet graze.” Natasha responded nonchalant as ever, watching a Bucky half-ran toward the medical cot you lay sprawled across. 

“When did you get back? What the hell happened? Wasn’t the mission just intel retrieval? Did they hurt you?” Bucky managed to rumble in a single breath. 

The realization that you’d forgotten to call Bucky when the Quinjet landed hit you like a ton of bricks. He moved frantically around you, eyes inspecting every inch of your body in search of major wounds or fractures. 

“I’m fine, Buck.” You reassured, reaching for his hand. “We landed about thirty minutes ago and came straight to see Bruce.” You explained. 

"Damn it, doll. I told Rogers he should have sent me with you.” Bucky interlaced his fingers with yours, shaking his head knowingly. You giggled. 

“This is the first time I’ve been injured on a mission in ages.” You noted. “You worry too much.” You added in a chastising tone.

“Of course I worry.” Bucky shrugged with an affectionate grin. “I’m your husband. It’s my job.” 

“As much as I love this touching reunion,” Natasha called out, “move outta the way Barnes, Dr. Banner has work to do.” 

anonymous asked:

Hey! I was wondering how would Saeran react to MC telling him she's pregnant. Would he like the news? Would he be a nervous wreck? Anyway, love your HC~

Awwwwww this is cute!
~Mod L 

He was walking home, a hand holding a bag of groceries, when the sound of his phone rang through the otherwise silent air. Saeran pulled it out, squinting at the time.
23:33
He had only left the house about twenty minutes ago, but didn’t even realize what time it was. Thank god for 24 hour stores.
Hey, when will you be home? 
It felt kinda silly, how his heart still fluttered when he saw your name even after you’ve been together for so long. 
Soon. I’m just down the road.
Hurry.

He would’ve felt worried if it hadn’t been for the cute heart emoji you added to the end of your message. He chuckled softly as he put away his phone and jogged the rest of the way straight to the door. He came in and locked down the door behind him before setting down the groceries. “Helloooo?”
“Up here,” you called from within your guys’ bedroom. Saeran felt slightly uneasy as he walked up the steps, unsure of what you doing. 
“Is everything okay?” The door creaked as he gently pushed open, and he was taken aback when he saw you. Your eyes were puffy as if you had been crying. “What happened?” 
You smiled, and he felt a bit of relief realizing they were tears of joy, but was still confused. “Nothing bad,” you reassured him. “At least, I don’t think so. Come here,” you said as you grabbed his hand, sitting you both down at the foot of the bed. Before he could say anything, you reached behind you and grabbed a little test to show him.
When he looked it over, it took him a moment to realized what he was holding.
“Saeran. I’m pregnant”.
For a minute, his mind went completely blank. He wasn’t happy, but he wasn’t sad. Not ecstatic, yet not panicked. 
“Saeran…?” You gently took his chin and faced him to you, and he could only stutter out one sentence.
“I… I’m going to be a dad?”
You had prepared yourself for the worst yet you saw a glimmer in his eyes you had only ever the day you two got married. Your heart began to beat faster as his expression turned up more. “I-I’m going to be a dad… I’m going to be a dad?!” 
You felt shocked as he laughed and wrapped his arms around you, hugging you tightly. “We-We’re going to have a kid!” 
“Yes, I think we are! But honey, you’re alright with this…?”
He pulled away for a moment to look at you. “I.. I think so. I love you. And I can be so much better of a parent than my own. I’m gonna need some help, but I think I can do it”. He gently squeezed your hand. “I think we can do it”.
You couldn’t help but rolled your eyes at how cheesy that sounded, but was excited all the same. You had to convince him not to immediately run to Saeyoung’s house to tell him, and promised to go in the morning. Even after you fell asleep curled up to him, he was awake but with different kinds of thoughts running through his head.
What if they wanna learn how to sing? They’d be the best singer on the earth. What if they want to play sports? I’d be on the field with them every god damn day. He glanced down at you, his eyes lingering over your stomach. God, I can’t wait to meet you.

anonymous asked:

Solangelo long distance internet relationship au (hehe a challenge sorta)

long distance aus are one of my favs pal (u could make a bigger challenge tbh but like pls dont take that as an invite to make this super difficult for me???)

  • so lets say that they meet on some kind of online forum for mythomagic and it starts out as just innocent talking about the game but they exchange different social media accounts and talk there too but mostly just as friends/acquaintances 
  • so after a while of DMing in different places they exchange snapchats and like at this point neither of them have ever really exchanged pictures of themselves or anything?? so the first picture nico sees of will makes it look like he’s got an angelic glow and u know, clearly nico liked this guy if he’s been talking to him for this long??? but that crush hits him like a punch in the face ok
    • and ofc will feels the same but he’s been pretty sure about his crush for a while now ok
  • so they snapchat each other pictures of things that remind them of each other (in a totally platonic way ok) and when they have something they want to say but dont want to type it all out they’ll send like 8 consecutive videos of just them complaining at the camera
    • after almost like, a month of that, will’s like “why don’t we just exchange skypes instead??? it’ll be so much easier. and maybe also phone numbers??? if you’re ok with that????” so they do
  • honestly??? their first skype call lasted like 5 hours and like a good portion of time they were actually talking to each other but like at one point nico had to run to the bathroom and just left his laptop sitting on his bed and when he got back will was in the middle of highlighting a textbook and nico just like let him study for like 45 minutes until will finally realized that nico came back and they carried on talking
  • so it’s only a few months after they first start skyping (and calling each other whenever theyre bored and dont have their computers) that nico’s like “ok i dont want to freak you out bc i dont want what im about to say to ruin this friendship so bear with me for a second bc i really like you and if we didn’t live on opposite sides of the country i would have asked you on a date months ago”
    • will’s like ‘literally same? you’re basically the most perfect person ive ever met and i would do anything to get to meet you in person and take you out for dinner and maybe a movie or something, actually, there’s this off-broadway show that i think you’d like and this restaurant a few blocks over and…’
    • and honestly nico’s pretty sure hes in love and heartbroken at the same time bc how is he ever going to meet will in person?
  • so nico starts putting a plan into action but he’s gotta wait until summer so he doesn’t have to worry about missing college classes and he’s gotta get some money together (which takes a lot of bothering his father who’s still not really happy about it when nico gets everything he needs) then buys a plane ticket and packs a bag
    • for a little while it seems like nico never has time to talk to will and will gets kind of upset about it bc he also thinks that nico might be hiding something from him?? so then nico just completely ignores his calls for a few hours and will’s pretty upset like did he do something wrong?? but then nico finally snapchats him
  • so nico waits til he’s out of the airport, heading toward NYU’s campus bc he figures that’s gotta be close to wherever will is, and takes a video on snapchat (he basically says “i dont know where i am but i think i found NYU and can you come pick me up?”)

holy cow these boys are in love

drop an au in my ask and get a list of headcanons!

anonymous asked:

Yuri likes to wear shorts in the summer because he's a basic bitch teen and he'll be damned if he doesn't soak up the sun while it exists, except he forgets it looks like his thighs were mauled by a bear (:3c). He doesn't notice because he's running late so he throws on clothes and runs to meet Otabek at a cafe or a park or somewhere equally full of people and doesn't realize his mistake until he sees drastically more private Otabek's face.

You have given me a Mighty Need™ to see Yuri in high waisted shorts and a cute crop top….. I hope you’re happy


Otabek is just going through his phone, waiting patiently at a small table in the crowded café. His black coffee sits besides a caramel macchiato as he rereads the last text he received.

“running late, order me whatever”

That was about 20 minutes ago. Otabek doesn’t mind - he had just gone ahead and ordered Yuri’s usual. Having had errands to run, Beka had woken early in the morning and left his boyfriend tangled up in silk sheets, kissing the top of his head in goodbye. Though Otabek had to return to his own apartment eventually, he wasn’t quite ready to end their weeklong streak just yet. They had spent every day and every night together so far, and it had been beyond a dream. Life had always seemed to get in the way, whether they had practice or other commitments, so having the opportunity to just be together and share a bed every night had made this week some of the best days of Otabek’s life.

So, reluctant to say goodbye just yet, they had arranged to meet at a popular café close by to Yuri’s apartment just to end the week with a peaceful lunch date. Otabek knows by now that the blonde will easily sleep in for hours if he doesn’t have training; limbs sprawled out across the bed and long hair a tangled mess. He smiles at the thought.

He’s drawn from his musings as the café door suddenly swings open, the usually gentle bell ringing powerfully and loudly with the pure force behind the movement. Most patrons turn around to see the cause of the jarring noise, and Otabek just stares at him - all long legs and tight shorts.

Yuri always does make an impression when he enters a room.

Exhaling loudly and uncaring as ever about the people around him, Yuri’s eyes search for Otabek as acutely as a house cat searching for its prey. Once he spots his handsome man, he slinks over quickly. Yuri’s cheeks and chest are slightly flushed, his pale blonde hair windswept and loose. It’s obvious that he ran the entire way here, collapsing into the chair across from Otabek dramatically, breathing out heavily again.

“Hi.”

“Hello yourself.”

He doesn’t seem mad at all that Yuri’s late, so finally managing to relax a little, Yuri leans forward to press a kiss to Beka’s lips before setting back in his seat, grabbing the caramel macchiato with a quick thanks. Pressing the cup to his lips, he peeks up at Otabek only to see a strange expression on his face. Yuri’s brow furrows, placing the cup down on the table again, cautious.

“What?”

Otabek doesn’t reply, but he lowers his head slightly, maintaining eye contact and suddenly looking quite serious. Yuri almost shudders.

“Seriously, what?”

As always, Yuri doesn’t care too much about how loud he’s speaking. When Otabek doesn’t respond again, he suddenly becomes aware of the dozens of eyes glancing his way, and hushed voices murmuring about something he can’t quite hear.

When Otabek’s eyes trail up Yuri’s crossed legs, he looks down to inspect himself and–

Oh.

The dark bruises and red love bites are hard to miss, old and new marks contrasting harshly against his pale thighs. They showed the places where Otabek had been that week, having spent hours with his head between those legs, kissing and biting and branding Yuri as his. The shorts Yuri wore left nothing to the imagination, and everyone in the café could tell that he had been absolutely ravaged.

Pursing his lips and feeling the heat rising on his neck, he quickly uncrosses his legs in an attempt to hide the proof of Otabek’s stay. Picking up his coffee again he speaks to Otabek, his voice drastically quieter now.

“Back to my place?”

Otabek nods, standing with Yuri. Holding his cup in one hand, he places the other reassuringly on the small of Yuri’s back, both briskly walking out of the shop. As they turn the corner, Otabek keeps his hand firmly in place, leaning over to murmur huskily in Yuri’s ear.

“I’ll have to leave more of those. Some are beginning to fade.”

Yuri is suddenly very glad he wore those particular shorts today.

Undeniable Heat Chapter 32: Revelations

Jensen Ackles x Reader

1350 Words

Story Summary: You’ve just gotten a job as one of the makeup artists on the set of Supernatural. Nervous on the first day, you become completely awkward, winning the affection of the divorced Jensen Ackles. You try to fight your desire for him, but he thwarts you at every turn. Will you be able you separate work and play, or will you let Jensen win?

Catch Up Here: Masterpost

Jensen’s P.O.V.

Mixed emotions raced through me as I stared at Danneel. Frustration, anger, and a little bit of sadness at what had been. “Danneel what are you are doing here?”

“This used to be my home too Jensen.” She purred, her tone of voice annoying me.

“Dee, you gave up this house when we got divorced. Now tell me, why are you here?” I asked, hoping I could get rid of her quickly and get back to Y/N upstairs.

“I’ve missed you so much, and you haven’t returned any of my calls. When I heard you were in Texas, I just had to come and see you.” She said, raising her hand and placing it on my chest. Once upon a time her touch would have been wanted,. But now, it did nothing for me.  would have ignited a fire deep within. But now it did nothing but annoy me.

Keep reading

Imagine being taken captive by Negan but Dwight falling in love with you as he takes care of you

(Sorry if it’s messy :( BUT YAY DWIGHT!! I tried my best! Hope it is as requested and you all like it :3 Gif not mine/found it on google/credit to the original owner.)

After surviving the longest night of your life, you had found yourself trapped in one of the cells in the Saviors’ compound.

Negan and his men had taken you as their prisoner after you had caused a commotion during the line up. Seeing your friend Abraham getting his head bashed had angered you so much, you couldn’t think of anything else but to jump up and punch Negan for it.

You had wanted to keep going but was forced to stop as his men had tackled you to the ground. By then you couldn’t have realize how much of a big mistake you had made acting so rash like that.

Within a few words being said, the next thing you know Negan had bashed your older brother’s, Glenn’s head as well. You knew in that moment, you had to avenge his death and make him pay for what he had done to all of you.

You couldn’t believe what you had just witnessed. Tears and screams came out of you and even more as you tried to get out of everyone’s grasps once again, only to be knocked unconscious and taken captive

Negan had his plans for you, seeing how tough you are and had tasked one of his men to handle you from the start.

~~~~

After all the tears from seeing your dear brother go that way, suffering in such pain, you had shut yourself down completely from your surroundings.

You didn’t count the days since you had gotten to their camp, but every morning you woke up to the sound of a rather annoying song.

It was put on repeat until your “caretaker” would come over to fetch you your breakfast, if that’s what you could call him.

If you could remember well, his name was David and was a complete asshole to you. Requesting the strangest things from you, angering you and making you lose your mind.

If you happened to “disobey” him, you would get beaten and strangely enough, he had the audacity to muffle your mouth with his hand to keep you from screaming your pain out.

During the time you would be out of your cell, you were forced to work by the fences keeping the walkers off with the other prisoners there. Oddly enough, it was honestly your favorite part of the day, you were away from your nightmare and closer to your fantasy.

Killing walkers, imagining them as each of the Saviors, made so much fun for you to kill. Noticing how good you were at it, David had often wanted to “reward” you with his advances, making you puke at the thought and getting yourself in trouble.

Slowly, despite that you were still drained from all of it and would give up in the end but still, you weren’t ready to die. Your brother had left a widow, you needed to take care of and a future nephew or niece for you to raise alongside with your friends, you couldn’t give up in your life just yet.

~~~~

And luckily, that light of opportunity came to you when, one morning, something was changing. You opened your eyes to darkness, only to finally see the light and some boots as you laid on the ground.

You looked up to see the face you had grown to hate so much and boldly, you decided to spit at the man. This time, it really ticked him off and the next moment you knew, you received a slap to the cheek for it.

“Fucking bitch!”, he said wiping his cheek.

His blow was hard enough to knock you down and as you tried to get up, he grabbed a fistful of your hair.

“Let go of me!”, you screamed, trying to fight him off. He laughed and raised his arm up, until someone else appeared.

“Let go of her, David…I don’t remember Negan ever asking you to beat her…”

The man turned to look behind and looking at him as well, you both noticed it to be, Dwight, the guy that had taken your brother captive in the first place.

Looking at him, you wanted to hurt him even more than you did David, for all of it, thinking it was as much his fault as it was yours but David’s grasp kept you from doing anything.

He scoffed at him and told him to mind his business as he turned to look back at you, only to hear a gun being charged from behind his head.

“I said…Negan doesn’t want her to beaten…So let her go…I ain’t gonna repeat myself after this…”

You groaned at the feeling of your scalp being tightened for a moment, before being relieved from the stinging pain.

David, clearly mad, left reluctantly and promised to report to Negan, only for Dwight to shrug and press him on to even hurry and do so.

It worried you to hear his threats but relieved you from his hold. You slumped onto the floor, catching your breath and realized, Dwight was actually just bringing you your breakfast for the day.

He walked closer and crouched down to hand you the plate, asking you to sit up and eat.

Although, you would’ve eagerly jumped at him to strangle him to death, you just didn’t have the strength to sit up and that he noticed.

Not being an inconsiderate man, he approached to help you. With hatred in your eyes, you protested to him, and told him to let go.

“Don’t you fucking touch me, bastard! I can handle myself…”

He backed away slightly, out of fear, but stayed close enough to get you up. He eyed you from head to toe, and realized it was worst than he had imagined.

You were bruised all over, apart from your face, most likely because David liked it or something, he thought.

~~~~

He felt bad to see you that way and knowing that your brother had been killed that night, made him feel even worst. Guilt had washed him over since your arrival and hearing your screams down the hall at night and the ruckus from your rooms only accentuated that feeling.

He had come to realize his own personal mistakes he had done to your group and had reflected on Negan’s action for a while.

From the instant he had laid his eyes on you, he admitted to having a certain attraction to you. Whether it was your sweet tone he had heard, while spying on all of you, your fighting spirit or just your humor, it was comforting to see you.

~~~~

But in this state, he stared at you for a while in deep thought on how he should approach you.

Not knowing better, he shoved the plate in hand forward, making you notice that it was a rather drab meal and obviously meant for a captive like you. You wanted to throw it at him but before you could, he put his hand up.

“Wait…”

He spoke in a hush tone and looked around to check his surrounding. You listened to him and as he looked back at you, he took out a rather fresh looking sandwich instead.

“Don’t ever eat that, again…It’s dog food…and you’re not a dog…You don’t deserve that…”

You looked at him wearily, not entirely sure if you should put your trust in him already.

Carefully, you thought about it but your stomach grumble made you take it quickly and strangely made him smile.

You looked rather frail to him but the thought of what you had done the other night, came back to him and he couldn’t help but be impress by your fighting spirit as well.

He kept staring, making you self conscious and worried.

“The hell you looking at?!”, you said, with a glare and spitting out a little mouthful towards his way.

It startled him but he smiled for a moment, only to recollect himself, as he had gotten nervous. He stuttered and looked around to distract you from him.

“Nothing…Just eat…and careful not to spit at me…”

Without thinking, his words made you laugh as you realized what you had done earlier, truly throwing him off guard.

“What?! You never heard someone laugh at you before?!”

You didn’t seem to care anymore at this point and were just genuinely curious as to why he’d be so surprised from your laughter.

He shrugged and shook his head nervously, making you look at him strangely.

“Well yeah but…I don’t know…Not from someone who was just beaten a few minutes ago…”

You scoffed and rolled your eyes at him.

“Please…It’s not the first time he’s done that…At some point I have to forget the pain and laugh too…”

He nodded along with you and let you eat for a moment, thinking about how he should tell Negan to let you in his charge instead.

He didn’t understand as to why, he hadn’t been so from the start but never really questioned it, letting it go.

~~~~

As he looked at you, he realized how dirty you were as well and got up to leave, telling you about how he was going to get some new clothes for you.

It was strange to you how “kind” this guy was and you couldn’t help but think it was part of Negan’s sick brainwashing methods again.

You backed away in your corner and told him what you thought of it, bluntly.

“Oh, I know what you’re doing…Y-you’re trying to get me to say the words, aren’t you? Acting like this…”

His eyes grew dark and slowly he shook his head.

“What’s the point of doing that…You’re not going to be better…”

He turned away to go get your new clothes, leaving you to think about your words and him.

~~~~

From his tone and expression, you felt like you understood a part of him. Clearly, he wasn’t alright with all of this and something in him, made you think he was on the same page as you, he wanted out of this place.

With that thought in mind, you slowly let yourself be open to him at a certain extent, apologizing for earlier as he came back.

He accepted it with a nod and had to reluctantly walk you to your work. Gripping you by your shirt, he lead you out and whispered to you, “Listen closely…David is most likely going to come up to you after and try to take you…but i’m going to stay nearby…make sure that doesn’t happen…If anything does…You run straight to me…Go it?”

You felt comforted by his words and nodded at him as you stepped outside to the fence.

Without keeping his eyes off of you, Dwight stayed nearby to make sure things would go right.

Just as he predicted, David had cause some commotion to see you and for once, you ran to a man for protection.

Things hadn’t gone smooth at all at first, up until Negan had appeared and the problem had been addressed.

~~~~

You and Dwight had successfully convinced him and your new “caretaker” was in charge of you until you said the words, Negan desperately wants to hear.

Carefully, enough, Dwight had made sure to seem and appear rough and tough with you while outside your cell, wanting to make the others think he was truly brainwashing you.

However, his demeanor would change the instant you were both alone and oddly enough, you didn’t mind him as much as you did. That was until you thought about your friends but you tried to keep that out of the way, since he would bring you clean and fresh clothes everyday, as well as your breakfast, only to change for a fresh sandwich he had hidden in his jacket, as others left him alone with you.

Each passing day, became tolerable to you and for him, you were the only thing keeping him from loosing his mind over everything he had witnessed.

To your surprised and his, he had managed to open you up to him and had done the same to make you trust him even more, not to mention he protected you from people trying to harm you.

He even protected you from the worst, making you fall for him, the reminder of your brother’s death.

~~~~~

Upon walking the halls, to give you your supper, he heard a rather unfamiliar yet familiar sound coming your way.

You were crying, sobbing, he could tell, he remembered it so much. His heart race in worried as to what might’ve happened and made him take faster step to understand what was happening.

He felt like the hall had grown longer and darker as he tried to desperately reach you in time to alleviate your pain. He dropped whatever he had in hand and finally stood by your door, opening it wide.

“Y/N?! Who the hell was hurting you?!” He didn’t knew what took him but that was the first thing he had in mind to hear you cry this much.

All curled up in your corner, you shook your head and he couldn’t resist to approach you. Without hesitating, he wrapped his arms around you, making you do the same to him.

It was the first time you both had ever been so close and comfortable, that he couldn’t help but stroke your hair, in hopes to help you even more.

You shook your head and tried to calm yourself but nothing came out apart the sound of your ragged breathing.

It was an inexplicable feeling to see what you had witnessed and been under that no words came out.

It worried him even more, making him check around you to see if you had any bruises. None, it relieved him to know that you hadn’t been hurt that way.

He looked around again and that’s when he knew what made you cry this much. It was cruel, maybe even more than a beating.

It was the polaroid of your brother’s dead body. Worst of it all, it had the words “Your fault” on it, clearly reminding you of that unfaithful night.

It angered him to see it and even more to know how much it pained you. He couldn’t stand the idea of this kind of emotional torture, the idea of being unable to protect you from any of it and the idea of you not being fine.

Quickly, he cupped your face, making you look only at him and shook his head and looking into your eyes, he said, “No…No…No, Y/N it wasn’t your fault…It wasn’t, alright…Tell me…Tell me the sick freak that made you look at this!”

Tears kept rolling down your cheeks and breathing heavily, you took a few seconds before being able to answer properly.

“I-It…It…Was Negan! He…He came over with the others…Th-threw the picture, saying how i should redeem myself for what I had done…”

You felt like a child, saying his name so loud and crying that way. Still you hugged him again to feel better and just let it all out.

You hated yourself for all of it and you couldn’t think of anything else. Hearing you say it so loudly, truly boiled Dwight’s blood and he had enough of it.

At this point, it was clear to him. You were the choice he was going to choose.

Lifting your chin up, he whispered to you, “Y/N…Listen to me…We’re getting out of here…”

You couldn’t believe your ears, and had let it out, “R-really?”.

He nodded and wiping your tears, he inched closer. “I’ll get you home…To your family…and hopefully…They’ll agree with me…”

You didn’t understand his meaning, until he pressed on.

“That Negan needs to die…”

Thoughts about how he had lost his wife and everyone dear to him, came to your mind and truly you understood he felt just as you.

As you nodded at him, he hugged you again and kissed your hair, whispering to you about how he loves you.

Your heart skipped a beat to hear him, and as you raised your gaze to look at him, you were surprised to feel his lips and scar on yours.

He backed away quickly, just as out of breath as you and whispered to you about his plan to leave this dreaded place forever and how you’ll get ready for the upcoming war.

friendship da(y)te

summary: au where simon and baz are best friends and friendship day comes around. okay, i promise it’s not that lame,, please read my fic

word count: 1.4k

this is for @carryon-valentines day 1: friendship day

i’m sorry i might’ve made it less friend and more SHIP but yeah



SIMON

“BAZ!” I yell as soon as I spot his tall, lean figure heading towards me. “Happy Friendship Day!”

I run towards him and envelope him in a bone-crushing hug.

“You too, Snow!”

His arms come up around my waist and we just stand there. Holding each other. Like we’ve done so many times before. Not romantically.

But I wish it were.

Romantic, I mean.

It’s been this way for months now, since I figured it out. That I liked Baz. He’s my best friend, he’s been my best friend for years, and I know everything about him. Only later I realized that my obsession with him was not just because of our strong friendship.

It was because of his deep, grey eyes and how they twinkle when he smiles.

It was because of his silky, soft hair that falls in perfect waves- framing his face (really, everything about him is a piece of art.)

It was because of making him play the violin not just because he’s brilliant, but also so that I could watch him focus while his eyes are shut.

Yeah, I’m obsessed. And I don’t even know how to tell him because…

What if he takes it badly?

It might fuck up our friendship.

And there’s no way in hell that I’m taking that chance.

BAZ

I can see his mop of bronze curls from a mile away, and I can recognize them within seconds. Because I’m whipped. He hugs me as soon as he sees me, and I hold him there, just like I do all the time. I rest my head on his, and I breath in his smoky, refreshing scent that’s all too familiar by now. I don’t think he knows that I love him, and I don’t think he realizes how much it pains me to celebrate “Friendship Day” with him, because honestly. Enough of this friendship thing. I’m pretty sure I fell for him two days after we met, but he’s a moron and he’s straight. So. I just wallow in my misery everyday. We have only a few minutes here anyway; he has to go to his classes (astrophysics- his first class on Tuesday mornings) (it is sad that I know that) and I have to go for mine- History (honestly a really boring subject- I happen to know everything already since I studied it during the vacation.) We’ll meet again at lunch for an hour and a half, and then if he decides to come over, then maybe longer. But that’s it. Nothing special to look forward to.

“Baz, how about dinner today?” he asks.

“Sure. As a Friendship Day thing?”

“As a date, I guess.”

I pray that I’m not blushing. He says it so plainly. It can’t possibly mean more that being just a get-together in the name of our friendship.

But I guess I do have something to look forward to.

 

SIMON

 

Did I just say that? Oh my god.

As soon as Baz turns away, I’m pretty sure I’m red enough to stop traffic. I rush to class, worried about just about everything that could possibly go wrong. I float through the day, until it’s lunch, where I finally see Baz again.

He starts conversation immediately-

“So, what, for our dinner do you want me to wear a suit?”

He says it sarcastically, and obviously I know he’s being sarcastic, but it would be great to see him in a suit.

So I say, “Sure, if you want to.”

He cocks his head towards me. “Okay. I’ll wear a suit if you do.”

If it means seeing Baz in a suit, then yes I’m wearing a suit.

“Deal”

Fifteen minutes before I have to get there, I start searching for suits, and simultaneously realize how my time management skills are equivalent to those of a coconut. I have none.

After three minutes of frantic searching, I find a grey suit that looks about my size and that’ll have to do because honestly, I’m having a bit of a time crisis here. I head to the bathroom and hastily get dressed, and then I rush to the restaurant where I’m should’ve reached ten minutes ago.

BAZ

I happen to have an entire collection of suits because of our family dinners. So I just went through them and chose a dark, black one. Typical.

I left the house giving myself twenty minutes to get there. We’re going to a relatively fancy restaurant so we don’t look too out of place with our outfits. I reach there five minutes before time, and I’m pretty sure I’ve reached before Simon. He’s late all the time anyway, so it’s no surprise. And I like the idea of being here before him so I can take some time to take in the surroundings, and so that I can choose a nice place to sit- preferably in the corner, so Simon and I can talk in peace.

Why does our little friendship day outing feel like a date?

Simon walks in ten minutes later, his eyes searching. I wave to him, and he heads towards me. Are his pupils a little blown or is that just me?

It’s probably just me.

He’s wearing a grey suit, and it’s sitting on his shoulders perfectly, outlining him and somehow not looking too tight. His hair is messy and tousled, as it is all the time, and his eyes are like shining wells of clear water reflecting the brilliant blue sky above. It’s overwhelming.

He looks stunning.

SIMON

I look at Baz, and I just can’t stop looking.

Because shit.

He’s beautiful.

In a black suit that compliments his lean, muscular features and his grey eyes (that look bright now, because of his dark clothing) perfectly. I think it’s too much for me to take. I just really want to kiss him. He’s sitting in front of me, and even though we’re talking about what food we’re about to order, I’m just thinking about his lips. And how they move when he talks to me. And how they would taste if I, you know, hypothetically of course, kissed him.

This really does feel like a date. He insists on paying. And that leaves me feeling like I should give him something in return.

How about a kiss? My mind nags. I force it to shut up.

But it doesn’t stop.

BAZ

We walk out of the restaurant, and it’s dark.

He asks me if I want to stay over, and obviously, I don’t deny.

We’re walking alone to his place.

It’s dark.

And I want to kiss him.

“Baz…” Simon says.

I stop and turn to him.

His eyes are bright with some kind of unidentifiable fire.

SIMON

 

Okay, fuck it. I’ve had enough. I need Baz’s lips on mine.

“You know what?” I say, “I didn’t give you anything for friendship day.”

I take a step closer, and I can only hope that his expression is a reflection of my own.

“I mean…” I go on, “You gave me that dinner.”

A step forward.

“So thank you for that.”

And another.

“And now…I want to give you…”

BAZ

 

He’s so close, so close.

And then he kisses me.

His lips are on mine, moving, and hot.

My arms move slide up around his back, and he pushes me.

SIMON

 

Baz is kissing me back.

It’s unbelievable.

His lips are magical. Just what I expected.

It’s hot and it’s cold at the same time.

And I’m kissing Baz.

BAZ

 

He isn’t stopping.

And honestly, I’m glad.

Simon Snow is kissing me.

I’m kissing Simon Snow.

My best friend.

My love.

SIMON

The moment stretches and the kiss feels much longer than it actually is. It’s not like I’m keeping track of anything.

I’m way past rational thought.

The sparks I feel running through my veins and the tingles I feel every time I make contact with Baz’s skin seem imaginary and all too real, at the same time.

Let’s never stop this.

BAZ

 

Okay, firstly, Simon is gay. Or bisexual. Whatever it is, it’s an actual blessing.

Secondly, Simon is so good at this kissing thing?

His arms, his jaw, his tongue.

They all seem to exactly what they’re doing.

I, on the other hand, have my mouth jammed against his; my arms are tracing random patterns on his back. It all worries me, really. What if I’m not good enough? I’m probably shit, considering my experience with this stuff.

But Simon is smiling against my mouth.

And Simon is sighing and saying my name.

Maybe…maybe I’m doing okay.

 

SIMON

 

I pull away, reluctantly.

It takes so much effort.

“Let’s go home?”

Baz sighs, nods, and takes my hand.

It is a happy friendship day indeed.