i put up the wrong one

I think “aging up fictional characters is morally wrong” is one of the more mind-bogglingly unsustainable claims you can make, but, if you’re going to make it, Homestuck is a particularly bad fandom to try it in.

Like, claim put forth to me today: “Rose Lalonde was never canonically depicted as an adult.”

This is not just wrong, but, Homestuck being the ridiculous comic it is, manages to be wrong on TWO counts. Rose was depicted as an adult in the alpha timeline, and she was also depicted as an adult at the end of the comic, where she got married and created a million alien babies with her alien wife.

I don’t have any conclusions to draw from this I just. Had to say it. I have so much trouble understanding how people don’t immediately drop this idea from the sheer cognitive dissonance.

I distinctively remember coming up with “Put a slash through the O you dummy” before even getting the prompt for it when Dr 0 asked me for help with his name and i couldnt do it cause i had 8 intelligence. had to eat Brain Mentos for the temporary intelligence boost. fallout new vegas is good all around but implying that someone has to be one step away from being einstein in order to know the calligraphic difference between O and an 0 is just wrong

Ya’ll need to stop

A lot of “edgy” people in my comment section have really been pieces of shits lately. If I see anyone making fun of me or talking shit about me in the comments because I have a stutter I’m just going to ban you.

I don’t care if I’m over reacting, I’ve noticed a lot of more assholes in the comment section and it’s these stupid fucks who want me to put them in one of my videos. Like no. If you think being a fucking jackass to me will feature your comment in a video, you’re wrong.

Also if I pronounce a word wrong I honestly cannot help it. I’ve had this speech disorder since I was a kid. How I got better at speaking out loud was to just keep going, even if I fucked up a word or missed words, just keep reading the next word out loud. 

If my brain misses a word, I fill it in with another that would make sense to the sentence I am reading. I also mispronounce words because I don’t know what they sound like, especially names. I try my best to say them, but if I’ve never heard of it obviously I’m going to get it wrong.

So please, do my a favour? If you want to help me, you can simply say “Hey, you mispronounced ____ wrong. You pronounce it like this ____”

Instead of being a jackass and saying “I hate the way you talk.” or “How about you learn to read better”. This fucking upsets me because I’ve worked so hard to be able to talk out loud in front of thousands of people who watch my videos when years ago I was so afraid to talk in front of people, so I barely spoke to anyone. 

anonymous asked:

what thing did you do that you regret😱

opened up to someone. it was one of those things where it was either gonna go well or blow up in my face and it’s more or less taking a wrong turn and i’m just over it. im not going to wait around for someone to realize they want me in their life or not, you know? like if they do then they can make the effort but im done putting myself out there just to get basically ignored again.

Ridiculous yet effective ways to deal with Executive Dysfunction

Dealing with executive dysfunction and ADHD becomes so much easier when you stop trying to do things the way you feel like you should be able to do them (like everyone else) and start finding ways that actually work for you, no matter how “silly” or “unnecessary” they seem.

For years my floor was constantly covered in laundry. Clean laundry got mixed in with dirty and I had to wash things twice, just making more work for myself. Now I just have 3 laundry bins: dirty (wash it later), clean (put it away later), and mystery (figure it out later). Sure, theoretically I could sort my clothes into dirty or clean as soon as I take them off and put them away straight out of the dryer, but realistically that’s never going to be a sustainable strategy for me.

How many garbage bins do you need in a bedroom? One? WRONG! The correct answer is one within arms reach at all times. Which for me is three. Because am I really going to get up to blow my nose when I’m hyperfocusing? NO. In allergy season I even have an empty kleenex box for “used tissues I can use again.” Kinda gross? Yeah. But less gross than a snowy winter landscape of dusty germs on my desk.

I used to be late all the time because I couldn’t find my house key. But it costs $2.50 and 3 minutes to copy a key, so now there’s one in my backpack, my purse, my gym bag, my wallet, my desk, and hanging on my door. Problem solved.

I’m like a ninja for getting pout the door past reminder notes without noticing. If I really don’t want to forget something, I make a physical barrier in front of my door. A sticky note is a lot easier to walk past than a two foot high cardboard box with my wallet on top of it.

Executive dysfunction is always going to cause challenges, but often half the struggle is trying to cope by pretending not to have executive dysfunction, instead of finding actual solutions.

A Tip for Book Lovers

If you go to libraries and if you shop at Thriftbooks (both of which I recommend) then you may already know this fact. But if you don’t, let me enlighten you;

These places are breeding grounds for BED BUGS.

No this is not me telling you to stop. No this is not me calling that places dirty or gross. This is just the consequence of book sharing. Because these books trade hands and houses in a wonderful and perfect system of intellectual freedom. And I think that’s beautiful. But when a book trades houses that many times it’s prone to pick up something. That something is usually bed bugs.

Due to their natural structuring, books are ideal homes. And once a book returns to the library or the warehouse, these bedbugs wiggle out and find more places to burrow and breed.

And here’s another fun fact. Unlike ants, bed bugs are not social insects. They don’t like each other. So if you think you can just put down a single trap and catch them all, you’re wrong. They don’t work like that. If you poison one, it won’t go home and do a secret handshake with a hundred other of its friends. It’ll just die. If you kill one, you’ve only killed one.

Why am I telling you this? To scare you? To ward you away? Of course not. I’m just here to make sure you’re aware AND to introduce you to something that could save you a shit ton of grief.

The moment you bring the book home or take it out of its packaging, PUT THAT FUCKER INTO THE FREEZER.

NO. THAT’S NOT A JOKE. MOVE THE LEAN CUISINE OUT OF THE WAY AND POP THAT SUCKER INTO THE FREEZER!!!

Extreme cold and extreme heat kills bed bugs. And since we’re not Trump and holding book burnings is generally looked down upon, we do the next best thing. Freeze it. No, it won’t damage the book. A few days in there will only leave it cold and bug free. But if you’re worried, pop it into a large Ziplock before you do.

Read safe and stay bug free, my bookish friends! 📚📚📖

August 24, 2017

To the boy with the green eyes,

Remember the last time we saw each other? 
In your little blue car….
We poured our hearts out to one another. 
We cried on each other’s shoulders.
I confessed my love to you. 
You confessed your love to me. 
But you didn’t confess that this night was going to be your last.  

You stopped by to pick up your (very) late Christmas present. 
You knew how bad I had been, and asked what was wrong. 
We walked to your little blue car, put the windows down on that cold chilly moonlit night, and talked. 
I told you everything that was happening to me: 
My ex-boyfriend and his new guy. 
A friend that I thought I could trust. 
And a lover that broke my heart. 
I also told you I was in a very dark place. 
Do you remember what I said to you?
I’m too ashamed to confess what I did to myself. 
Please don’t make me say it. 
I don’t want to see you cry again. 
Your beautiful emerald looking eyes don’t deserve to have tears in them. 
They need to keep sparkling and smiling. 

After we cried together, I confessed my love to you. 
I didn’t expect you to say anything. 
I didn’t expect you to feel the same way. 
I just wanted you to listen. 
I remember looking into those dazzling green eyes, holding your hand, and telling you: 
“I know this sounds cheesy. And I know that it may not seem true. But this is the truth. I promise. I love you. I love you so much. And I want to let you know that I will always love you. No matter what. I don’t care if you’re with someone new. I don’t care if I’m with someone new. I don’t even care if I haven’t talked to you in months, or even years. I will always love you.”
You didn’t say anything. 
You just nodded as tears fell down your cheek from your watery green eyes. 

Then, I asked you what you wanted from me. 
You said:
“I honestly don’t know. I don’t know what I want. I never know what the right choice is. I never know what the right thing to do is. I always hurt you. I don’t want to keep hurting you. We had a lot of fun. And that’s all I wanted at first. And that’s what happened. I liked you. I really did. A lot. Then things changed. I wanted to hang out with you every day and be with you every day. And we did that. I wanted to be closer to you. And we did that too. Then stuff happened, and I got scared. I don’t know. I was scared to be happy. I didn’t want to be in a relationship. I wasn’t prepared at all for how I felt about you. I didn’t know how to take it to the next level. I didn’t know how to be your boyfriend.” 

These words still bring tears to my eyes.  
It’s as if we are star-crossed lovers; forever living different paths in our lives that don’t have any connection in the end, denying us of any chance of living a life together. 
But how can that be when we are existing at the same time?
You’re alive. 
I’m alive. 
And I have never felt more alive with anyone else than when I’m with you. 
Just the way you look at me with those alluring eyes is what convinces me that you are in love with me too. 
So why aren’t we together? 
Why are you with someone else? 
Why are you with her?
Is it because she can give you a family?
Is it because you want to believe she’s the one for you?
Not just you though, for your whole family. 
She’s someone they will accept. 
Nobody would accept me into your family. 
I think we both know that for sure. 

Two hundred and twenty-one days have passed since that night happened. 
I’ve gone through many stages of:
Hating you. 
Worrying about you. 
Wondering if you’re dead.
Wondering if you’re alive. 
Pretending you’re dead. 
Wishing for your presence. 
All while still loving you. 
It’s torture. 

I don’t know if I should give up. 
Or if I should keep waiting for you. 
Because a part of me feels that I will never find anybody like you. 

Nobody’s going to look at me the way you did. 
Nobody’s going to touch me the way you did. 
Nobody’s going to care about me the way you did. 
And nobody’s going to understand me the way you do.

Every time I talk to someone new, I compare them to you. 
I know that’s wrong, but it’s true and I can’t help it. 
That’s when I start to believe that they’re not good enough for me. 
Because I need to find somebody that’s so good that they make me forget about you…
I know that’s not fair and I think that’s what keeps me from letting people in. 
I put this steel cage around my heart when you left me, and you’re the only one with the key to open it. 
I just wish you would talk to me. 
I wish you would tell me to move on, but your silence speaks louder than words. 
It drives me crazy; leads me to believe that I did something wrong, but I didn’t. 
Maybe it’s your way of keeping me in the sidelines when things get bad with you and her. 
I don’t see how that’s fair, but I love you so much that I don’t care. 
I’ll take any excuse you give me to come back, so long as I get to see your face again. 

I’m sorry. 
I’m sorry for getting close to you. 
I’m sorry for burdening you with my problems. 
I’m sorry for loving you. 
I’m sorry for all of this. 
Maybe things would’ve been simpler if we just didn’t meet. 
But as people say, “Two souls don’t just meet by simple coincidence.”
I start to wonder why you came into my life. 
Or was it I that came into yours?
I wonder if you’ll ever come back to me, even as a friend. 
I miss you. 
I miss you so dearly. 
Please stay alive while I exist. 
Whether it’s a year or ten, I will wait for you. 
Because I love you, and I want to believe that we are meant to be together. 
I want to wake up every morning to those lovely green eyes of yours. 

I forgive you.
I forgive you for pretending that I don’t exist.
I forgive you for leaving me with no explanation.
I forgive you for choosing her over me.
I forgive you  for falling for me.
I get it now.
We are just simply not meant to be.
But that doesn’t mean I’m okay with that. 

You know me…
You know I always have so much to say to you.
You know I could write books about my love for you. 
But I have one more important thing to say….

Happy birthday. 

Love always and forever, 
The boy with the brown eyes 

A rant that shouldn’t need to be ranted about

I don’t know if a lot of people will read this, but I hope to anyone who reads this takes this as seriously as it should be taken. I would also just like to state that i am NOT being over dramatic, I am NOT going to handle anyones shit if they tell me otherwise.
Yesterday, I was in the train at around 6:30pm waiting for it to start moving just to meet a couple of my friends. It so happens that it was also Pride Day here (in Stockholm, Sweden), hence I was headed to go join everyone at the park. So i’m wearing this blue wrap around type of top, which yes wasn’t “conservative” but i had a leather jacket over it with black high waisted pants. I added a picture of what I wore at the end of this post.  

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4

team machine, starring: 

  • john ‘i shot someone because it was hot out’ reese
  • harold ‘why do the trained assassins i hired keep shooting people i don’t get it’ finch
  • root ‘how do i make this situation seem inappropriate’ root
  • sameen ‘haha john is getting yelled at what a loser’ shaw

also starring team stuck-putting-up-with-those-losers, featuring:

  • joss ‘how am i the only adult here’ carter
  • lionel ‘i have no clue what’s going on but tbf that’s because no one ever tells me anything’ fusco

with special appearances by team wtf-is-wrong-with-humans, including:

  • the machine ‘i don’t know what root wants with 100tbs of footage of shaw and i don’t want to know’ thornhill
  • bear ‘woof’ dog
Watchful Shadow

Writer - @damndescendants

Requested - @too-good-to-be-tru 

Hi! Can you do a Harry Hook x daughter of Peter Pan?

Disclaimer - I do not own any of Descendants’ characters and/or ideas all credit goes to the creator and producers of Disney Descendants

Pairing - Harry Hook x Reader

Summary – (Y/N), daughter of Peter Pan goes to the Isle with Mal only to run into an old friend

Warning(s) - none

Originally posted by butterflywingednight

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It Ain’t Me: Part 6

Jungkook x reader ft. Yoongi

Request: Can you make a fake text about how bf hears a rumor about y/n and decides to break up without even knowing the true facts

*This series did not have a name until this part so don’t get confused!*

Genre: Angst 

Words: 1.4K 

Part 5 | Part 7


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I had a really interesting conversation about the possibility of a female Doctor with my 12-year-old sister two weeks ago. Doctor Who is her favourite tv show. In the past, she has always underlined that she wanted her Doctor to be young and attractive and basically Matt Smith, thank you. I don’t think she would have had issues with a Doctor of Colour, but a female Doctor would have been almost as bad as, you know, some old guy.

I never had the impression that she put any deeper thought in the matter. And then two weeks ago, faced with the more tangible potential of a female Doctor happening, she looks at me and tells me she doesn’t think a female Doctor is a good thing, because a female Doctor can’t do the same things as a male Doctor? “Really?” - Unsure look. “I guess…?” Silence. “My favourite scenes are the ones where he realises that he’s wrong, that he’s an idiot, they couldn’t do that with a woman?” - “Why?” - “I mean, there’s not really a reason, but…”

There’s this back and forth in which she comes up with new things that a female Doctor probably cannot do, only to me met by her own confusion every time I question why. There’s no direct logical reasoning that goes “Female Doctor” -> “Incapable of all the Doctor’s ‘weak‘ moments”, but she also kind of holds on to that concern as a real one. She never fears that a female Doctor cannot be an awesome hero. She fears she cannot be an awesome, flawed one.

And that’s fascinating perspective from someone who is essentially half a generation younger than me, who grew up with a slightly different media landscape, with half a generations worth of new heroes. So here’s to the Doctor as a flawed female heroine, as someone who is silly, as someone with faults, as someone who gets to be wrong. In spite of being a 2,000-year-old alien, let her be a role model who is real.

Polydads

Also on ao3

Based on a post that @catsforartists made!

—–

When Amanda woke up, she decided to crawl out of bed to get a bowl of cereal. And eat it on the couch, of course.

“Ain’t nothing beat couch cereal.” She declared to the empty room and dug into her delicious and dangerously sugary cereal.

Almost immediately after taking a bite out of her cereal, she heard footsteps coming from her dad’s room, but, when she glanced up, she saw Damien walking by her.

“Good morning, Amanda dear.” Damien greeted.

“Mornin.” Amanda responded. She KNEW it. Her dad and Damien had been getting pretty close, so it wasn’t a completely wild assumption that they would start dating. And, of course, the footsteps she heard must be…

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Hey. You. Stop calling your art ugly.

This has transcended “artistic pet peeve” and is now making me actually angry. Indignant, fightin’ words kind of angry.

People like your art. More importantly, somebody likes your art. Another human being out there sees your art– maybe in between reminders of ugly politics or drama, maybe in the middle of their soul-sucking job, maybe just first thing in the morning or before they go to bed– and that makes their day a little brighter. Not just because it’s cute, or it’s got nice colors, or it’s a character they like. But because you posted it. And then they see “forgive my garbage art” or “I’m sorry this is so ugly” or “ugh this sucks.” And guess what? That brings them right back down. It says– undoubtedly inadvertently, but all the same– “if you like this, you’re an idiot. This thing you look up to? It’s awful. What’s wrong with you?”

And yes, I know why people do this. It’s a defense mechanism. If I put my art down first, then nobody else will be able to. And I know whatever is causing these thoughts will not be talked away by some text post on Tumblr. I would by all means encourage talking back to those ugly, demeaning thoughts, replacing those habits with constructive ones geared towards humble improvement of craft (now’s as good a time as any to mention that all artists have doubts and struggles with their work, but there’s a difference between being your own harshest critic and being your own meanest bully). But I get that I’m not your therapist, your mom, even your friend, probably. If you want to continue to fall back into beating yourself up, I can’t stop you. But I write this in the hopes that you at least realize how it might affect other people. Because it isn’t a localized wound. It hurts your followers. It takes something they find beautiful or uplifting or resonant or inspirational and trashes it before their eyes. It’s a plague to the whole art community, and it sure as hell spreads like one.

I don’t really pay attention to my follower number, but I checked it before I wrote this up and it’s around 400 or so. First off, thank you. I don’t want to focus on the number, but I do feel honored any time I see a new follower. But also, I see that number and I think, “You know, that’s quite a reach. That’s a lot of people.” But then I forget the people and I think of the somebody. I think, “Odds are this will reach somebody out there. Odds are it’ll piss somebody off, too, but I’ll take that one person it reaches.” I think that’s a good way to view your art, too. Yes, somebody out there might beat you to the punch and call your art ugly. It sucks, it stings, I know that from experience. But it’s not the end of the world, and it doesn’t change a thing about the people who have found beauty of any kind in your art.

If you can’t for the life of you see the value in your own art, value the somebody who does.

10

My novel, All the Crooked Saints, comes out tomorrow (10/10), but since I’ll be talking about that tomorrow, I thought today I’d instead talk about books that you could also snag while you were wandering or clicking through a bookstore — these are books I’ve either loved, have just picked up, or are about to pick up myself.

Titles and first lines:

LESS, by Andrew Sean Greer.

From where I sit, the story of Arthur Less is not so bad. Look at him: seated primly on the hotel lobby’s plush round sofa, blue suit and white shirt, legs knee-crossed so that one polished loafer hangs free of its heel. The pose of a young man. His slim shadow is, in fact, still that of his younger self, but at nearly fifty he is like those bronze statues in public parks that, despite one lucky knee rubbed raw by schoolchildren, discolor beautifully until they match the trees. So has Arthur Less, once pink and gold with youth, faded like the sofa he sits on, tapping one finger on his knee and staring at the grandfather clock.

DISAPPEARED, by Francisco X. Stork.

On the morning of November 14, the day she was kidnapped, Linda Fuentes opened the door to my house, where my family was having breakfast. As usual, I wasn’t ready. 

ABSOLUTELY ON MUSIC, by Haruki Murakami & Seiji Ozawa.

Until we started the interviews in this book, I had never had a serious conversation with Seiji Ozawa about music. True, I lived in Boston from 1993 to 1995, while he was still music director of the Boston Symphony Orchestra, and I would often go to concerts he conducted, but I was just another anonymous fan in the audience.

WILD BEAUTY, by Anna-Marie McLemore.

Later, they would blame what happened on the little wooden horses. Estrella had found them when she was five, the set of them dust-frosted and forgotten on a high shelf. They had been small enough to fit in her hands, carved wooden wings sprouting from their backs.

LOVE MINUS EIGHTY, by Will McIntosh.

The woman across the aisle from Rob yammered on as the micro-T rose above street level, threading through the Perrydot Building, lit offices buzzing past in a colorful blur. He should have taken his Scamp. Public transport was simpler, but he always seemed to share a compartment with someone who didn’t have the courtesy to subvocalize.

MOONGLOW, by Michael Chabon.

This is how I heard the story. When Alger Hiss got out of prison, he had a hard time finding a job. He was a graduate of Harvard Law School, had clerked Oliver Wendell Holmes and helped charter the United Nations, yet he was also a convicted perjurer and notorious as a tool of international communism. He had published a memoir, but it was dull stuff and no one wanted to read it.

I AM NOT YOUR PERFECT MEXICAN DAUGHTER, by Erika L. Sanchez.

What’s surprised me most about seeing my sister dead is the lingering smirk on her face. Her pale lips are turned up ever so slightly, and someone has filled in her patchy eyebrows with a black pencil. The top half of her face is angry — like she’s ready to stab someone — and the bottom half is almost smug. This is not the Olga I knew.

THE STONE SKY, by N. K. Jemisin.

Time grows short, my love. Let’s end with the beginning of the world, shall we? Yes. We shall. It’s strange, though. My memories are like insects fossilized in amber. They are rarely intact, these frozen, long-lost lives. Usually there’s just a leg, some wing-scales, a bit of lower thorax—a whole that can only be inferred from fragments, and everything blurred together through jagged, dirty cracks.

THUNDERHEAD, by Neal Shusterman.

Peach velvet with embroidered baby-blue trim. Honorable Scythe Brahms loved his robe. True, the velvet became uncomfortably hot in the summer months, but it was something he had grown accustomed to in his sixty-three years as a scythe. He had recently turned the corner again, resetting his physical age back to a spry twenty-five — and now, in his third youth, he found his appetite for gleaning was stronger than ever.

STRANGE WEATHER, by Joe Hill.

Shelly Beukes stood at the bottom of the driveway, squinting up at our pink-sandstone ranch as if she had never seen it before. She wore a trench coat fit for Humphrey Bogart and carried a big cloth handbag printed with pineapples and tropical flowers. She could’ve been on her way to the supermarket, if there were one in walking distance, which there wasn’t. I had to look twice before I registered what was wrong with the picture: She had forgotten to put on her shoes, and her feet were filthy, almost black with grime.

it’s the end of summer, all of the campers parents come and pick up their children, and max is just sitting at the end of the road, waiting. he’s there all day. the sun starts to set and he just brings his knees up to his chest. 

david was watching him all day, in hope to see him off with his parents but they never showed up. he knew they weren’t but gosh darn it he could at least try to see the best out of this situation. 

a few more minutes pass before the sun is gone and the stars start to appear. max is still by the road and david can’t help himself. he walks out of the cabin towards the small boy and picks him up. 

max doesn’t even try to fight it since he’s tired. tired of being alone, tired of feeling like no one cares. for only being 10, he’s been through a lot. and he thinks that maybe it’s his fault. maybe he did something wrong to make his parents not care about him.

david puts him in his car and puts the seat belt on. gwen climbs in to the passenger seat and the trio drives away from the camp. max falls asleep in the back, clutching on to mr. honeynuts. 

“his parents never showed up gwen, they don’t care.” a somber voice says from behind the wheel. 

“i know david, but what can we do? we’re not his parents, let alone his legal guardians. he’s going to have to go back there eventually.” gwen replied, equally as sad.

“not if i can help it. i’m going to go try and find someone to help me, help us. we’re going to get max out of his terrible home.” david spoke a bit louder than before, the passion rising in his voice.

gwen stared ahead for a minute, just letting her thoughts consume her. 

“well, if we do manage to get him away from his parents, who’s gonna take him in? where is he going to go?” 

david stops at a stop sign and looks at gwen. he takes her hand in his and smiles softly. “we can take care of him, if you would want to that is, i mean,” 

he trailed off, getting flustered in front of gwen. she gripped his hand tighter and nodded. a smile of her own appearing on her face. 

the two made it back to david’s house and brought max inside. he was still sleeping when they put him in the spare bed. 

they’ll take care of him. they’ll make him feel loved and cared about. they were willing to fight for him, because he deserves it. max deserves to be loved, and david and gwen were willing to be the ones to give him what he needs. 

  • Harry: You know what I could do to him...
  • Ron: Drug him? Because that's where this sounds like it's going.
  • Harry: No, I'm going to tell Draco that I'm having a little welcome to the ministry party for him but there is no party and then when he shows up I'll laugh and say 'oh it's the wrong night' and then he'll laugh and say 'one glass couldn't hurt' and then I'll put my mouth on his mouth.
  • Ron:
  • Ron: ... no, mate, do not do this
married part 8- h.s imagine

you can read the previous part here

you can find all my writing here

You held your cheek in shock as you stared at Kimberly in front of you. You watched as her chest was breathing hard. You noticed how her eyes that were once filled with anger and frustration faded into sadness.

The security guard that worked on your office floor quickly ran up to the commotion. Your coworker, Olivia, was quick to yell at him for “Not coming fast enough” and motioned for him to take Kimberly away.

As the guard placed his hand on Kimberly, asking her to come with him, Kimberly looked at you and whispered, “I’m sorry” before she followed him to the elevators. As you watched Kimberly leave, Olivia and the rest of your coworkers were quick to check up on you. Olivia inspected your cheek while she exclaimed, “Crazy bitch! What the fuck was that? Are you okay?”


As soon as the elevator doors opened, you ran out, hoping Kimberly was still in the building. You instantly saw her walking out the doors. “Kimberly!” You shouted before you ran after her. Kimberly turned around at the calling of her name. When you finally caught up to her, she sighed. She wrapped her arms around herself. For the first time since you’ve known Kimberly, this was the fist time she ever looked vulnerable. She always walked around with such confidence and a “No shits given” attitude but as you were staring at her, all of that was gone.

Kimberly instantly saw your red cheek from where she slapped you. “I’m sorry, Y/N. I didn’t mean to slap you like that. Especially in front of your coworkers.” Kimberly softly said as she stared at ground. You quickly shook your head. “It’s okay” You assured her before you placed your hand on her arm. “Is everything alright?”

Kimberly looked at your hand before she looked up at you. Suddenly she let out a small cry before she wrapped her arms around you, pulling you in for a hug as she cried into your shoulder. Your eyes went wide before you slowly returned the hug. You noticed the people walking by the two of you were staring and probably wondering why a girl was sobbing in another girl’s arms in the middle of the sidewalk.

“Shh. Shh. Come on. Let’s talk.” You said.


You gave Kimberly a couple of tissues before you sat down on the couch next to her. You lead Kimberly back into your office building. As the two of you were sitting down in the lobby, her sobbing stopped but her tears continued to spill. Kimberly was grabbing the ends of her hair while you mentally debated what you should say.

Kimberly was the first to break the silence. “Harry told me that you guys rekindled last night in our meeting today.”

Your cheeks went red as your mouth opened in shock. You couldn’t believe Harry would tell her something happened when you didn’t even know for yourself what was going on between the two of you. Kimberly glanced at you before looking away. “He told me how you guys reconnected at Niall’s wedding last night.”

Harry walked into the conference room with a smile on his face as he read your latest text to him. Not only was he happy he had his best friend back, he could finally tell you all the things he wanted to tell you but couldn’t because of his feelings for you. Kimberly was sitting one one side of the table her lawyer while his lawyer was sitting on the other side. Harry looked over at Kimberly with a lopsided grin as he took his seat. “Kimberly, how are you, love?”

Kimberly was staring at Harry with her eyebrows raised. Out of all the meetings they’ve had so far with their lawyers, Harry was never this happy. This was always a serious matter and here he was acting like he was walking on cloud nine. “What’s wrong with you?” she asked as she crossed her arms over her chest.

Harry sent one last text to you before he put his phone away. “Nothing. Let’s start.”

After the meeting, both lawyers stepped aside to go over last minute decisions and details. Kimberly was picking up her purse, getting ready to leave when Harry gently placed his hand on her shoulder. Kimberly turned around to her almost ex-husband. Harry scratched the back of his neck while he thought carefully how to word what he was about to say.

“Kimberly, love, I know these meetings have been hard. It’s been tough for the both of us.” Harry said as he looked at someone he once thought he was going to spend forever with.

Kimberly nodded as she clutched on to her purse tighter against her body. Harry continued, “I just wanted to tell you that I recently got back in touch with Y/N. We were at Niall’s wedding together last night.” Harry smiled as he thought about the night you guys spent together last night. “And I just want you to know that she’s not the reason we’re getting a divorce. I just feel like we both rushed into things by getting married. We weren’t ready-”

When Kimberly heard your name, she couldn’t hear anything else. She didn’t listen to Harry’s excuse on why he asked for a divorce. She didn’t care. All she could see was red. She knew telling Y/N to stay away from Harry was a good idea. Now look what happened when Y/N didn’t listen. Harry was asking for a divorce because of Y/N. This was all Y/N’s fault.

Kimberly stared at her ring finger that once had the most beautiful ring could ever ask for. She sighed as she wiped away her tears with the sleeve of her sweater. “Harry and I…we were so happy. I only agreed to the divorce because I was hoping that Harry would somehow come to his senses and realize he was making a mistake. I was hoping that he would realize he loved me.”

You looked into Kimberly’s tearing eyes, beginning to feel nothing but guilt. Kimberly continued, “But when he told me about you coming back? I thought this was it. Harry’s going to get a divorce and be with you.” Kimberly placed her face into her hands and let out a sob. “I just feel like such a failure.”

Hesitatingly you scooted closer to Kimberly and placed your arms around her, pulling her in for a hug. Kimberly returned the hug as she continued into your shoulder.

You rubbed her back soothingly as you closed your eyes and sighed. You remembered clearly to the day that Kimberly told you to stay away from Harry. You remembered feeling so angry at her for even thinking about saying such of a thing to you. Now, as you were looking at the girl afraid she was losing her husband, you realized it wasn’t a threat; it was Kimberly’s way of crying for help.

You pulled away from the hug and held her at arm’s length. “I’m going to fix this, okay?” You pulled her in again and sighed as you hugged her. “I’m going to fix everything…”


Harry wrapped his arms from behind you as you were taking the takeout boxes out of the bag. He sighed contently as he buried his face into the crook of your shoulder.

Having Harry holding you like this should’ve made you smile. You should’ve felt butterflies in your stomach but for now all you felt was guilt and a bitter taste in your mouth. You gently shrugged Harry off as you grabbed two plates from the cabinet.

Harry proceeded to bring the boxes of food to the dining room table. “How was your day, love?” You sighed as you took your seat across from him. You stared at Harry as he began to put food on his plate. You bit your lip before you asked, “What are we doing, Harry?”

Harry paused as he was taking some rice out of the box before he continued. “We’re having dinner.” Harry said as he gave you a playful look.

You shook your head as you leaned in closer. “No. What are we doing, Harry? You’re married.” Harry stuck his finger at you as he corrected you, “Getting a divorce.”

“Yes. But still married.” You shot back. Harry sighed as he put his plate down. You glanced between his eyes and his plate. “Kimberly stopped by my office today.”

Harry’s eyes went wide before you continued, “She was in tears, Harry.” Harry sighed as he ran his fingers through his hair. You whispered, “She told me she thought you guys might still have a chance.”

Harry reached over and placed his hand on top of yours. “Love, I’m sorry that you’re in the middle of this. I’m sorry that she came and talked to you. I’ll bring that up the next meeting we have but please believe me when I say I want to pursue a relationship with you.”

You took your hand out of Harry’s hold as you got up from the table. “Is that fair when you haven’t even pursued your marriage with Kimberly?”

Harry stood up as well and began walking towards you. “Marrying Kimberly was mistake. It was stupid on my part when I knew I had feelings for you. I should’ve been all in it if I was marrying someone.”

You looked down at the floor as you wrapped your arms around yourself. “Before you knew about my feelings for you, you were all in it. You believed that you were going to be with Kimberly for the rest of your life.”

Harry opened his mouth but you were quick to say, “Because of me, I ruined someone’s marriage. I hurt Kimberly. I ruined everything for her. I’m a home wrecker.”

Harry shook his head quickly as he placed his hands on your arms. “Love, you didn’t ruin anything. Our marriage was going to end eventually.”

You shook your head. “You don’t know that.”

Harry closed his eyes momentarily. “I do know it! Because throughout my whole marriage, all I could think about was you! All I could see when I was looking at Kimberly was you! Kimberly was a distraction from you!”

As you listened to Harry’s words you couldn’t help but tear up. You have loved Harry for so long and hearing him say the words you’ve always wanted to hear; you couldn’t enjoy it. Instead your mind drifted to the girl that was crying in your arms today. You couldn’t help but think what if it was you on the other side? What if you were in Kimberly’s shoes? What if you were marrying Harry and you truly, truly thought you guys were going to be together for the rest of your life? What if deep down, Harry wasn’t happy and wanted to be with someone else?

How could you do that to someone?

Harry was staring into your tear filled eyes, trying to get an idea of what was going on in that beautiful min of yours. You looked at Harry and shook your head. “I can’t do this.”

Harry’s mouth fell open. He could hear his heart physically breaking at the thought of losing you again. “Whatever is going on between us, I can’t do it. I can’t do that to someone.”

Harry’s eyes began to fill with his own tears. “So we’re back to where we started? We’re going to go back to not talking for a whole fucking year?”

You placed your hands on Harry’s cheeks in hopes of calming him down. “I can’t go back to that. Not having you in my life was the hardest thing I’ve ever done.”

Harry placed his hand on top of yours as he let out a sniff. You wrapped your arms around Harry, pulling in for a hug. He let out a shaky sigh as he wrapped his arms around your waist. “So what does this mean for us?”

You let out a chuckle as a very tanned Emma and Niall took a seat across from you. “You guys look great!” You laughed.

Emma smiled. “Hawaii was awesome! Everyone is so nice there and the food-”

“So how are things going between you and Harry?” Niall said with a smile on his face. When Niall and Emma got back from their honeymoon, they immediately wanted to catch up. You sighed as you thought about what happened a couple nights ago. After telling Harry you couldn’t be with him romantically, the two of you vowed to be what you guys knew best; best friends.

It was definitely hard. There were times when you looked at Harry and just wanted to feel of his lips on yours again. There were times where the two of you were cuddling while watching a movie and you just wanted to tell him how much you loved him but you couldn’t.

You proceeded to tell Niall and Emma everything that happened. You told them how Kimberly came into your office and slapped you, you told them how she cried in your arms in the lobby, and most importantly you told them your decision to remain friends with Harry.

When you finished talking you noticed how both Niall and Emma were quiet. Niall had his arms crossed as he stared away from you while Emma had her mouth closed. Emma shrugged her shoulders and let out a sigh, “I suppose. If this is what you want, Y/N.”

You were about to respond before Niall interrupted abruptly. “No. No Y/N. You’ve wanted Harry for years. And once you finally have the chance to be with him, you throw it away to spare someone you don’t even like? Kimberly has always been awful to you! She’s threatened you, she’s horrible to you and you respond by letting her walk all over you? No. This isn’t fair. Why does her feelings trump yours?”

You were staring at your lap as Emma softly placed her hand on top of Niall’s. “Honey, calm down.” Emma said softly.

Niall shook his head. “Y/N. You’re one of my best friends. I’ve seen you hurt for so long and I’ve seen you put others before yourself. You’re a good person, Y/N. I can’t just stand back and watch you throw your happiness away. I know, Emma knows, everyone with eyes knows that you and Harry belong together. What’s stopping you?”

You let out a sigh as you finally looked up at Niall. “I’m scared of being with Harry.”


i love hearing from you guys! let me know what you guys thought/ want to see what happens! do you feel any sympathy for kimberly? let me know!

anonymous asked:

can you do one where harry comes into st mungos where draco works all injured and stuff and they like reconnect?

bit cliche soz


“Okay Mr. Potter, Healer Malfoy will be with you in a second.” Harry thanked the nurse and she left. He only realized what she said once she was gone. His eyes widened as the door opened to reveal platinum blonde hair that he was so familiar with.

“Okay, what seems to be the-” Malfoy paused abruptly. “Potter?” Harry sat up quickly and groaned at the white hot pain that shot through his body. “You probably shouldn’t move.” He commented in an amused voice. Harry offered him a sarcastic smile. “So, what happened?” Asked Malfoy, waving his wand over Harry’s body.

“I was working a case and I got hexed and I… fell down a hill.” Draco started to smile. He quickly covered his mouth with his hand. “A little unprofessional to laugh at a patient, isn’t it?” Said Harry, starting to grin.

Draco shook his head. “Sorry.” He tried to say through the laughter. “You have a broken rib and it looks like you sprained your ankle. Other than that it’s just cuts and bruises, but those I can fix easily.” He stated as he ran his thumb over a cut on Harry’s cheek.

Malfoy moved his wand slowly over Harry. “So you’re a healer now?” Asked Harry.

Draco nodded. “Yeah. It feels good to actually help people. I guess I felt like I needed to put some good out into the world. Probably just been spending too much time with Luna.”

Harry chuckled. “I think it’s admirable. Besides, Luna’s always right about these types of things.”

“What types of things?”

“About us. About who we are as people. I remember when I first got my job as an Auror she told me that I wouldn’t like it very much.”

“Well, she was wrong about that wasn’t she?” Draco had healed all his minor injuries and started looking through the cabinets for something to fix up the major ones.

“I don’t think she was. I’m kinda done with the whole ‘hero’ thing.” Harry told him truthfully.

Draco chuckled (which definitely did not make Harry’s heart skip a beat) and walked back over to bed where Harry laid. “I should think so. You saved the Wizarding World, I think it’s okay for you to take a break. Drink this.” He said, handing him a potion that Harry had no clue what it did.

He scrunched up his face in disgust which made Draco smile. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you smile before.” Draco blushed as he poured out another potion. “It suits you.”

“Shut up and drink this.” He shoved the cup toward him though there was no real malice in his voice. “This may sting a bit.” With a wave of his wand, Harry felt his ankle crack back into place.

“Oh, that didn’t hurt at a- OW!” Draco smiled amusingly. “I’m guessing my rib is fixed.” Draco started laughing quietly. He muttered an apology which Harry graciously accepted.

“You’re all better now. Just try not to do anything too strenuous and take some days off from work.” He helped Harry sit up. “You need a break.”

Harry smiled at him. “Thanks.” He stood up so that he was eye to eye with Draco. “It was nice talking to you.”

Draco nodded. “And you, Potter.” Harry held out his hand for Draco to shake and he took it. Harry sighed and opened the door to leave. Draco stood there, smiling to himself when the door opened again.

“Hey, Draco.”

Draco grinned at the use of his first name. “Yes?”

“Do you want to go out with me sometime?”

“Like on a date?”

Harry smirked and nodded. “Yeah, like on a date. Does that scare you?”

Draco scoffed. “You wish.”