i should ask him what he thinks of me one day

the raindrop prelude

pianist au

pairing: yoongi | reader
genre: angst and fluff
word count: 14.859
warnings: implied smut, mentions of alcohol
author’s note: this is a revamped version of a story I wrote ages ago, which some of you might have read already (was simply titled raindrop back in the day). the plot remains the same, only the writing was heavily tweaked, almost entirely rewritten. If you did not read it before, I sincerely hope you enjoy!

Since music is a very important part of this story, I suggest playing the songs on this playlist whenever they’re mentioned. :)


You feel exhilarated.

You would never be able to describe such feeling properly, and you are sure other musicians would agree. Being up there, hands surfing above the keys while the music floats seamlessly, turns your body weightless and takes your mind away from it, faraway from the dullness of reality. It drifts and glides away smoothly, silently, towards a remote place where you can finally shine.

Your senses are still heightened and your heart is still pumping vigorously as you leave the stage, fingers starting to tremble. They feel numb and sore after torturing them for almost ten minutes, and the pleasing sound of applauses still rings in your ears as you trudge in the direction of the bathroom.

You did it. Be proud. The cutting words are deafening in your head, mixing with the echo of the melody your hands conjured up only a few minutes ago. That voice, both sharp and unrecognizable, faintly resembles that of your best friend, your colleagues and your teachers, but you are unable to believe them. You just can’t.

Keep reading

BTS reaction: they’re insecure

They have a crush on you (gender neutral reader), but think they are not enough for you


Seokjin

Originally posted by fawnave


everyone knows seokjin is confident, so you would definitely notice something was off when he seemed to be insecure around you. when he realized he had feelings for you, he would probably even avoid you to some extent, being confused by his own feelings and why he kept comparing himself to your beauty. however, he wouldn’t tell anyone, so you’d have to confront him about it. you’d ask him to talk to you privately, then carefully approach the subject

“seokjin, is something wrong? i’ve noticed you act a bit distant around me”

at first he’d probably tell you it was nothing important, not admitting something was bothering, but neither denying it

“please tell me. i just want to help, did i do something wrong?”

jin wouldn’t be able to let you blame yourself for his behavior at all, so he’d end up telling you

“ehh i just keep comparing myself to your overshadowing beauty and don’t see myself worthy”

you knew jin by heart and immediately caught on to the true meaning behind his words

“seokjin, don’t. in my eyes you’re the most overshadowingly beautiful person in the universe”


Yoongi

Originally posted by taesscripts


it’s not a secret yoongi is bad at expressing his feelings, so he’d end up bottling it all up inside his head. he’d be pretty good at hiding how insecure he feels around you, so you wouldn’t really even notice.

i feel like yoongi would end up writing about his feelings in his lyrics for his next mixtape, of course not exposing who it was about. when you’d hear the lyrics, you’d get worried. you would be sitting with him in his studio, helping him with another song, when you’d cautiously bring the lyrics up in conversation

“yoongi… about those lyrics… are they real? may i ask who they’re about?”

when yoongi would look down and avoid eye contact with you, you’d get even more worried

“they’re about you” he would mumble under his breath, still avoiding eye contact. but you’d heard him loud and clear. you’d get shocked and speechless, totally not expecting this sudden confession. going through the lyrics inside your head, everything would make sense. once you fully registered everything, you’d crash your lips to his, showing him the feeling was mutual.

“please don’t feel insecure. i like you back just as much, if not more”


Namjoon

Originally posted by choke-me-namjoon


this boy wouldn’t exactly hide the fact that he liked you. every now and then he would be giving you small compliments, whether it was complimenting your outfit, your hair or a personality trait he found extremely attractive. you’d blush at every comment, but notice he’d look down at his feet after giving them. it wasn’t that he was feeling shy, there was something else there, something painful and it broke your heart everytime he did it

“you look very cute in that outfit, (y/n)” *looks down at his feet*

“namjoon..? are you okay? :/”

he’d get strartled when he didn’t hear the usual thank you leaving your mouth and look up at you, only to find you staring at him worriedly

“no. no i’m not. for a while i’ve really liked this amazing person but they would never like someone like me back” *looks back down*

you’d walk up to him, tilting his head up by his chin to look at you in the eyes

“kim namjoon. i feel this person you’re talking about absolutely adores someone like you”


Hoseok

Originally posted by sweaterpawsjimin


since hoseok is completely smitten by you, he’d be clingy, always ready to help and be there for you in a heartbeat, with a bright smile on his face. the members and everyone else around you would all probably know about his crush on you, since he wasn’t good at hiding the excitement whenever someone even mentioned your name. however, whenever someone else would compliment you, or flirt with you, he’d get insecure and shut down. he’d become silent and whenever you asked him about it, he’d brush it off with an excuse like him being tired after a hard day at practice.

eventually he’d get fed up feeling so insecure, but being afraid of total rejection, he would leave a long text for you in the middle of the night, when he knew you’d be asleep. he’d explaing everything in great detail, how he thought you were so beautiful inside and out, then tell about him feeling insecure

.. the reason i’m texting this to you is because i already know you don’t like me back like that, so i thought i’d save you from the trouble. i just can’t take feeling so negative about myself i needed to let it all out

by the morning when you’d found his text, you’d instantly call him, not bothering to text back

hello?” he’d answer with a tired voice

“hoseok, good news! i do like you back and i’m gonna make you realize just how incredible i think you are”


Jimin

Originally posted by chimcheroo


jimin would act so shy around you. he would always admire you from a distance, being jealous of how easily the rest of the members came along with you. however, you noticed his shy behavior, and would always be asking his opinion on things whenever he was being quiet. he’d blush, his eyes becoming wide whenever his name left your lips. it’s easy to say he’d be a stuttering mess, making him think you saw him as a complete fool.

you’d be having a movie night with the maknae line. everyone would be cuddled up in blankets, eating popcorn, talking and joking around all throughout the movie. everyone else but jimin. you’d be talking about some stupid decision the main protagonist made in the movie, taehyung and jungkook laughing along with you. then you’d once again notice how jimin was being quiet so you asked for his opinion

this time, jimin didn’t even look at you in the eyes, but mumble a short reply under his breath. you’d get visibly upset, thinking you did something to set him off. the other two maknaes would notice this, and swiftly make up some excuse to leave the room. once the two of you’d be left alone, you’d speak up

“jimin? whatever i did i’m sorry”

his head would shoot up, panic in his eyes

“no, no, no you didn’t do anything i just- *sigh* i just really like you and i guess i feel a little unworthy” he’d look down like a puppy, the words just slipping out of his mouth. you’d smile, feeling relieved he didn’t hate you, until you scooted closer and kissed his cheek

“you should have told me sooner. the feeling is mutual”


Taehyung

Originally posted by bangtanroyalty


taehyung would be a mix of namjoon and hoseok with his own little twist. he’d be giving you cute little compliments at literally everything you did, a genuine look of amazement on his face everytime. and as his admiration for you would grow, the more he would start to think he wasn’t good enough. he would compare himself to the other members, being convinced you must’ve liked one of them. you’d start to notice small things about him, that reminded you a lot of another member. but you also noticed those things weren’t the kim taehyung you knew.

“oh, taehyung you’re cooking again?”

“oh hey (y/n)! i just suddenly got this inspiration to cook something. you like when someone cooks for you, right?” he would try to pretend like he knew exactly what he was doing, when obviously he was struggling

“isn’t jin responsible for cooking?”

“jin? oh well i thought i’d let him rest for once heh heh. i can cook!!!!”

“..taehyung? you don’t need to pretend you like cooking, you know?”

his jaw would drop, not expecting you to see through his lie so easily

“ahh i just really like you and you always look so happy when jin hyung cooks for you”

you’d smile, walking over to him and grabbing his hands in yours

“you make me happier, taehyung. just by you being yourself”


Jungkook

Originally posted by heliogabalusroses

(my notes literally said “put some meme ass gif here”)

this boy would definitely be shy around you. i feel like he would be so confused over his own feelings, not understanding how and why you were making him feel like he wasn’t worthy of your time and the sweet smiles you’d send him whenever your eyes would meet. he wouldn’t ever realize that whenever another member was in any kind of skinship with you, he’d be glaring at them, wondering what was wrong with him for he couldn’t be as close with you.

he would think the smiles and the glances you were giving him were only in your kind nature. he’d think you were acting that way just because you were kind and didn’t want to completely ignore his presence. but oh, how wrong he was.

jimin was always telling you jungkook was shy, especially around people he found attractive. you took confidence in his words and mustered up the courage to ask jungkook to talk privately with you. to say he was shocked and nervous by what you asked was an understatement

“jimin told me you’re quite shy at first and i understand that. but it’s been a while and we still haven’t talked to each other as comfortably as i wish we could”

once again this punk would be completely oblivious to what you were implying, only thinking you were being kind and considerate

“oh, y-yeah. hyung is right, i’m sorry i haven’t been very social around you.”

“it’s fine jungkook. i just think you’re complitely missing my point here” you’d smile shyly, shuffling with your feet, a blush on your cheeks. realization would hit him like a train

“o-OH YOu liKE mE??? I l- liKE yoU TOO a loT ACTUALLy”


AN: I recently hit 100 followers on this blog so thank you everyone so much <3 it makes me so happy that some people actually enjoy what I post! I remember when I started this blog I was so scared to post anything because I thought no one would like what I write, but now I’m so glad I overcame my fears :,) Thank you <3

Also this is my first reaction post and I have been considering starting to take requests so would anyone be up for that? Let me know :)

School Dances - Richie Tozier

Originally posted by agent-69

word count: 4311
warnings: swearing
a/n: yes i know it’s mileven but they’re my babies and it was a good gif so politely fuck off.  also i’m sorry this is a lame title,  and it’s been so long since i’ve posted


[ love is arguing, but not attacking ]

You had your feet up on the couch, using your legs as a makeshift table as you sketched away in your notebook.  Everyone was at Bill’s for a sleepover, and you and him were currently sketching while the others were playing Atari.  You were never one much for video games.

“What do you think?” You asked quietly, leaning over to show Bill your pencil sketch of the quarry you’d all been to countless times.  Bill smiled and nodded.

“I-I like it” He told you, and you went back to your sketching again.

“Thanks-”

“You should draw me sometime sweetheart” You jumped slightly as you spun around, eyes narrowing at the boy leaning over the back of the couch.

“Damnit Richie you almost made me mess it up!” You scolded, but he just grinned before hopping onto the rug between Eddie and Ben.  You rolled your eyes and shook your head.

Yeah, you and Richie were friends.  You were both in the Loser’s Club, and always shared good times and awesome adventures.  Not including the whole Pennywise fiasco last summer.  It was just that he was such a trashmouth, and you were so introverted, that the connection was hard.  So most of the both of your time spent together was either arguing, or really great and fun.

It was 90% arguing.

“y/n? Earth to y/n” You blinked to see Eddie was snapping his fingers in front of your face.

“Sorry what’d you say?” You asked again.

“I asked if you were going to homecoming” He repeated, eyes flicking to the screen momentarily to see Bev’s character dominating over Richie’s.  Richie yelling and whining about how he ‘was the professional here’.

“Thanks Ed but you’re just a friend… I’d rather be asked by someone interested-”

“Oh no no no no no no I didn’t mean it like that y/n I wasn’t asking you ou-”

“You’re asking y/n out?” Richie abandoned his game to glare over at Eddie, but you missed it after being too focused by her drawing.

“Fuck no!” Eddie screeched, now gaining your attention again.  Eddie went on this rant about your friendship and all that, but you just sat there quietly.

Were you really that unideal of a homecoming date? Maybe you didn’t have the body of a senior, maybe you weren’t perfect, but you thought you’d at least suffice.

“I’m gonna get a drink” You muttered, tossing your sketchbook carelessly to the side of the couch.  You stood up without another word, walking to the kitchen and blinking hard so you wouldn’t cry.

“Fuck Tozier” Eddie grumbled.  “You made your girl sad”

“She’s not my girl” Richie replied in a quieter tone, paranoid you could still hear him from the kitchen.

“Ri-Richie you should t-talk to her” Bill said, but Richie shook his head, pushing his glasses up his nose.

“I can’t” He said, feeling as pathetic as he sounded.  Bev rolled her eyes, standing up and going after you.

“You’re a pussy” She called back to him before consoling you quietly in the kitchen.


It was late,even for you, and you had quite the night owl tendencies.  But you didn’t care, preferring to lean over the kitchen counter with your second cup of cocoa as you worked on a sketch.  A different one from before, this one you’ve been adding to for months, and still, it just doesn’t seem perfect.  You didn’t like to share them until they were perfect.

You groaned softly, rubbing your eyes with the palms of your hands.  Your eyes briefly flicking to the little candle you had on the counter, wondering briefly if you should just scrap the whole page.  Then shook your head, not liking the destructive thought.

“y/n?” Your head snapped up, hands propping you at your chin.  “What’re you doing up it’s like… two in the morning” Richie spoke, voice tired and a mumble.

“Was I loud?” You whispered, and he shook his head, messy hair flopping in front of his face.  You watched him pull his glasses from where they were folded to slide into the neck of his shirt, fitting them onto his face and pushing them up his nose.  You found yourself smiling at this, even though it was a simple action.

“No I just… couldn’t sleep” He said lamely with a shrug.  He wandered over to where you stood, peeking down at your notebook.  You pulled it towards you anxiously, flipping the pages so he couldn’t see what you’d been working on.

“Me too” You finally responded, drawing his attention away from the book.  But it didn’t work.

“What’re you drawing?” He asked, and you felt the nervous butterflies fluttering relentlessly in your chest..  Your fingers curled tighter around the pages.  “What? Scared I’m not gonna like my sexy portrait?” He smirked at his own comment and your eyes narrowed.

“Why would I want to show you anyways, you’re just gonna make fun of it” You said, holding it against your chest.  Richie’s smirk pulled into a frown instantly.

“I won’t” He said quickly.

“I don’t believe you” You mumbled back.  His frown deepened.  You set your book back down on the counter, keeping it closed as you reached to drink from your mug.

“y/n… come on… what do you think I’m gonna do?” He tried to keep his voice quiet, soft.

“I dunno…” You murmured out again.  “Make fun of it?”

“I promise I won’t” He responded fast, truly trying to persuade you to show him.  You bit down on your lip, glancing anxiously around before picking up the book again, sliding it over to him.  Richie grinned, his cheek a pink hue illuminated in the candle light.

You wanted to draw that.

He opened up the cover carefully, seeing your name and information printed neatly on the inside cover of it.  He turned the page, and you awaited his reaction to your first sketch.  It was simple, just a night sky.  You remembered how you spent forever shading in the different patches of the sky, and perfecting each point of the little stars you added.  Richie almost reached out to brush his fingers over the perfected crescent moon you’d drawn, but pulled away at the last moment, not wanted to ruin your masterpiece.

“It’s not… it isn’t perfect it was when I was first starting to draw-”

“It’s beautiful” He cut you off.  “And this was when you were an amateur?” Your teeth sunk into your lip again.  “y/n you’re so fucking talented!” He smiled up at you before flipping the page, seeing an arrangement of flower sketches all over it.

“That was uh.. That was practice for something else” You said, fingers wringing together.  Bill was the only one you shared your work with, the both of you critiquing and admiring each other’s pieces.  But this was… this was different.

“They’re nice” He commented quietly, then moved on to another page.  This one was the one he’d briefly saw earlier, of the quarry and it’s sparkling waters, the morning sun giving it this effect.  He smiled, being reminded of countless memories spent there with the Losers.  Another page turn, and this time he paused.

His eyes scanned over your most secreted drawing, the one that’s seemed to take you an eternity, every detail needing to be at absolute perfection.  A slow grinned tugged his lips open, a pearly white smile being flashed your way before back to the notebook.

Inside was a sketch of the whole gang, arms linked over everyone’s shoulder.  Mike, then Stan, Ben, then Eddie, then Richie, Bill, Beverly, and you.  There wasn’t any scenery yet, so far just the basics of each person.  Facial features, clothing, hair.  Richie looked at his own character, his grin in the sketch lopsided, glasses crooked and eyes large.  His hair was even messier than usual and his tee shirt read Loser.  All the shirts had the same logo on it.

“y/n this is so…” He breathed out heavily, for once, not having anything to say.  “It’s fucking amazing, it’s perfect” You blushed deeply and darted your eyes away from his.

“I was going to give it to Bill for Christmas… I mean it’ll probably take me that long anyways and I thought after… last summer it’d be kinda… you know?” You trailed off, not wanting to say the words.  Richie nodded, glancing once more at the page before closing the book.

“I’m really glad you showed me” He said, and you only nodded your head in response, taking the last drink of your cocoa and setting the mug in the sink.

“I should go back to bed” You said, taking the notebook in your arms once more.  Richie opened his mouth, maybe to protest and ask you to stay, or to say he wasn’t tired yet, he wasn’t even sure.  So he sighed inwardly and gave up on finding the right words.

“Yeah, it’s late” He said, and you both trudged on your tiptoes back to the living room where the arrangement of sleeping bags were strewn all over the place.  You looked back at him as you sat down in yours, holding onto your pillow as he settled in again for the night.

“Goodnight” You whispered, and he looked over at you as he took off his glasses and folded them up.

“Night y/n” He replied, and you smiled gently before laying down and getting comfortable.  Richie smiled to himself as well while he laid down and went to sleep.


The next day at school you were all groggy from staying up so late, especially you and Richie.  Which the others commented about numerous times.  But you brushed it off and ignored their ongoings as you put in your locker combination.

“I’m too tired for this” You hummed to Richie, who nodded, eyes shut as his side leaned against the locker next to you.  Only hearing pieces of Eddie yelling at Beverly for her smoking habits.  Not that she cared, but it was funny to get him riled up.

“Oh look! It’s my favorite girl!” Suddenly your locker was slammed shut, and you jumped to see Henry Bowers had wedged himself between your now closed locker and yourself.  You backed up immediately, finding his aroma to be absolutely ghastly.

“Take a shower fuck-bag” Richie groaned

“Fuck off loser, I’m only here for y/n” Henry stroked an oddly gentle hand down your cheek, and you winced with disgust.  “How are ya y/n? I missed school yesterday… did you miss me?” You gagged aloud.

“No Henry, I didn’t miss you” You uttered, yanking your face away from his hand.  “Don’t touch me” You added, hiking the strap of your backpack higher on your shoulder.  Henry smirked, an eyebrow arching tauntingly.

“Come on sweetheart, don’t be that way” He leaned forward to meet your eye level.  “I know all I gotta do is ask you to lift your skirt a little, isn’t that right boys?” Your face fell at the horrible and untrue accusation.  “But that’s alright, it’s nice when they’re easy” His hand was back on you again, toying with the collar of your shirt and trailing over your throat.

“Hey!” Henry was shoved away, toppling to the ground.  “She said not to touch her you fucking pervert!” Your eyes widened at Richie, and your fear only increased as Henry stood up, grabbing the boy by his shoulders and pinning him to the row of lockers.

“You better fucking watch it four eyes!” Henry yelled in his face.  “I’ll fucking gut you-!”

“Mr Bowers?” Richie fell to the floor as Henry dropped him as soon as the scolding voice of a teacher rang in the air, silencing the hall.  “You wouldn’t want a call home would you?”

Henry took off, leaving the Losers alone in the hallway.  Whoever the teacher was, simply turned and walked away as well, not saying another word.

“y/n are you-”

“What the fuck?” You cut off Ben’s almost question as you whipped around to look at RIchie.  “What was that!?” Richie, confused by your sudden burst of anger stood up and scrunched up his eyebrows.

“I’m sorry?” He said sarcastically.  “That asshole had his hands all over you, the disgusting mullet wearing-”

“Well I didn’t need your saving” You said, adjusting your bag, your face fallen as you turned to head away.

“y/n-!” He called but you didn’t even so much as glance over your shoulder.  Just kept on going.  His lips fell to a frown as he looked at his friends, who all seemed confused.

Except Bev, who frowned herself as she shook her head.

“”What’s going on what happened? She.. she’s actually mad at me?”

“No Rich, she’s just embarrassed” The girl said, but his expression didn’t change.

“But she… but I’m…” he sighed, defeated.  His shoulders slumped as he began to walk away as well, wanting to follow after you, but instead heading to class.

He hadn’t meant to hurt you, or offend you.  He was only trying to keep you safe.


Three days passed and you’d done everything you could to avoid Richie, even though you still saw him everywhere.  Walking past your classes, which you were sure was on purpose, in the lunchroom, in your gym class, and you swore that every time you turned your head, he was darting away somewhere.

“n/n? You gonna show me your dresses or not?” Beverly asked you.  You blinked, looking up from where you were sat on the floor against your bed.

“Bev I don’t really wanna go to the dance… do I have to?”

“Of course! Come on it’ll be fun” She said, already opening up your closet to look through your things.

“But… Richie’s gonna be there” You said weakly.  Beverly just laughed, and pulled a dress from your closet.

“This one” She said, and laid a dress off the side of the mattress.  You looked at it for a moment, not remembering having worn it except for your aunt’s wedding.  That seemed so long ago.

Ever since the events last summer, a time before that just seemed like another era altogether.

“Beverly just… no thanks” You mumbled, looking back at her.  She only crossed her arms.

“Come on.  It’s in one hour y/n” She pleaded softly.  “You and I will hang out, and if you want….” She sighed deeply.  “I’ll even make Richie to swear to stay away from you”Your eyes widened a little bit, but she still noticed.  “Even though I don’t even understand why you two are so… I don’t even have the word for it.  Being stupid?”

“I’m ashamed Bev, someone else had to come and save me.  Again.  I’m so sick and-and tired of needing to be rescued!” Your friend frowned.

“Sweetheart, it’s nothing to be ashamed of.  It’s what good friends do, we help each other out.  And quite frankly, Richie was right.  Henry was being a creep, even more than usual.  Of course he was in a jealous and protective rage”

“Jealous?” You repeated in a whisper.

“Well duh, the boy digs you” Beverley brushed it off like it was obvious.  “He was just trying to keep you safe is all.  He wasn’t trying to make you feel like a damsel in distress”

You chewed on your lip, now staring at the dress she’d picked out for you as your thoughts ran wild with this new information.

“Fine” You huffed out after a long period of silence, standing up and snatching the outfit aggressively.


Richie did what he usually did at school events.  Or most events for that matter.  He found a seat, and began counting down the minutes until he could go home.

Did he want to be at the school dance? Not really.  Had his friends pretty much persuaded him to come anyways? Yep.  But there he was, sitting in an uncomfortable plastic chair at a black and white (and pink? What was this fucking valentine’s day?) themed school dance.  His friends all gathered on the gym floor and dancing obnoxiously to some song he hadn’t heard of before.  All the while he just sat and watched.

All Richie could think about was how maybe if he hadn’t been a dumbass, he’d at least be sitting here with your company.  Knowing that you weren’t one much for getting up and dancing in front of your peers.  His night could’ve been filled with fun conversation and the stupid game of pointing out the best and worst outfits of the night.  But he hadn’t even seen you arrive.

And he was pretty sure that you wouldn’t be.

He’d watched the clock till it was ten minutes into the dance. The boredom was weighing down heavier and heavier and soon he was slumped over his seat, his elbow propping his chin up and his glasses sliding down every now and then from slouching.  Eleven minutes.  Twelve.  Thirteen.  Fourt-

Richie nearly jumped out of his seat when the gym doors swung open, this time not revealing one of the chaperones coming in, but you and Beverly.

And wow, you looked perfect.  And Richie thought you looked like an angel on a normal day.  But this was… this was a fucking occasion he should’ve planned for.

She walked in looking nervous, like she felt out of place.  And to him, she was, she blew away any of the other girl’s who even tried tonight.  Her hair was in curls, some of it pinned back behind her head.  Her dress was a pale pink color that fell to her ankles, sleeves that came almost all the way down her arms, and something in him wanted to touch it to see if it felt as soft as it looked.

Richie blinked, eyes growing even wider behind the thick frames.  He wasn’t even sure if she was real.  He watched as Bev pushed on your arm gently, then nodded towards him.  He almost didn’t redirect his gaze before you’d looked to where she pointed.  Luckily, you hadn’t caught him openly staring.

“Damn it” You whispered, hoping to have gone the night without an interaction.  But it was already too late for that.  “Bev let’s go-”

“No way! You promised me you’d at least try” She reminded, and you winced, glancing back over to Richie secretly.

He was staring straight at you, and was completely obvious about it.  He must not have been able to tell that you were looking out of the corner of your eye.  Because he was still staring at you.

Well, you were staring at him too but that was different.  You couldn’t help it.

“He looks beautiful” Was the first thing you said, and Beverly made a weird sound as she turned to see where your eyeline had fallen.  Her brows rose when her sights landed on Richie Tozier.  Moping like a four year old but staring at you like an old lover.

“Beautiful?” She questioned, her surprised face scrunching up with confusion.  You nodded, turning back to face her, a gentle smile on your lips.  He was in a suit, sort of.  It was a dark grey, but the collared shirt underneath it was white, and his tie was black.

You were pretty sure he’d worn it to Georgie’s funeral, minus the tie.

“Yeah” You answered Beverly, who was now grinning ear to ear whilst you blushed at the sight of Richie all dressed up.  “Nice, he looks nice” You stammered out, and Beverly rolled her eyes good naturedly.

“He does.  You should go tell him”

“I don’t think he’d like to speak to me” You whispered, scared he’d hear, even from thirty feet away.  Your fingers began to twirl and intertwine with themselves out of nervousness.

He still hadn’t looked away.

“I beg to differ” Your friend told you.  But before you could ask her why, Bill and Eddie had walked up to the both of you.

“Hey what the hell’s up with mopey McMoperson over there?” Eddie asked, nodding off towards the glasses wearing boy who was now looking fascinated by the floor.  Bev glared at the short boy, a sigh falling from her lips.

“Could we be anymore discreet?” She muttered sarcastically.

“What? I was just wondering if he’s still all hung up over y/n”

Bill smacked his hand against his forehead, and Bev glanced over at you.  Your face had fallen, lips parted, eyes saddened and staring down at your hands, still locked together in a knot.

“n/n I didn’t mean it like tha-”

“I’m just gonna go sit and drink some punch” You cut off Eddie’s apology with a small mumble, and headed off towards the beverage table.  You swiftly poured a plastic cup of punch then made your way to the empty seats along the side of the gym.  Opposite of where Richie had sat himself.

You passed the time watching the girls twirl around in their pretty dresses and fancy hairdos.  Some wearing makeup you were sure they stole from their mothers vanities.  You picked out the dress you liked best, something blue and frilly.  Pretty, but not over the top like some of the others.  After all, it was just a school dance.

“Why aren’t you dancing out there with them?” You looked up to see Richie standing in front of you.  Your mouth opened, but you were in such a shock that no words came out.

“I-I… I don’t know” You said pathetically, mentally slapping yourself for saying something so lame.

“Well do you want to dance with me?” Again, your brows rose as you were thrown for another loop.  What!?  “I know I’m not ideal” Richie continued.  “But pretty girls shouldn’t sit through an entire dance and watch everyone else” A small smile pulled on your lips at the compliment, and you nodded your head slowly, and he reached his hand out to you.  You took it, ducking your head down so that your blush wouldn’t be seen.

“Thanks” Was all you managed to say.  Your eyes still glued to the gym floors, not realizing he was staring directly at you, with a soft intensity.

“I’ve missed you” He blurted, without thinking, as he always did.  But this was different.  You looked up at him, eyes round as a doe’s, a look of pure innocence and curiosity held in them.  “I’ve missed you a lot” He continued.  “I’ve missed talking to you and messing with you and seeing you draw and even just seeing you in the hallway”

While what he was saying was true, he couldn’t stop speaking.  And he began to freak that this would lead him somewhere ugly, telling you all this.  But at the same time… he didn’t care.

“And after… after all that shit with Pennywise and you and I… we… we got closer and I really fucking loved that because let’s face it! You’re great!” Your lips felt sewn shut, though they had dropped open just slightly.  “ANd you get shit and I don’t… I don’t get it! You get shit from your parents because they think you aren’t good enough but y/n you’re fucking perfect and if you ever believe otherwise I’ll… well I’ll off myself! It’d be the end of the world!”

“Rich…” You said softly, hoping he’d quiet down seeing that other dancing students were now watching this scene unfold.

“No I-! I don’t care! Let them watch I don’t care!” He looked around at all the prying eyes, most of them shooting to look away before being caught.  “And y/n I’m sorry, I’m sorry for what I did, and I swear I only did it because I… well I wanted to protect you” He sighed, defeated, and finally quieting down a little bit.  “And I know you don’t need my protection… hell you barely even need me but dammit I need you

Your eyes widened impossibly further, surprised by this confession.  You sniffled, your hands around his neck tightening a little, pulling yourselves closer together.

“Look I… I’ve never done this before, I’ve never even felt this way before but you… you just make it seem natural.  Like I’ve been doing this for ages” Your eyes, wet with tears, crinkled up as a smile tugged your lips upwards.

“Richie you-” Your quiet voice was cut off again.


“y/n I think I’m in love with you” He said, head ducking down so it was ensured only your ears would hear it.  Your noses nearly touched, your head tilted back to properly meet his eyes.  You sniffled again, quickly rubbing your fist under your eyes to stop the tears from falling before holding onto him again.

“Richie” You said, voice weak with a wet laughter.  Cheeks rosy pink with a bashful blush.  “You’re the sweetest trashmouth I know” You whispered.  He smiled lopsidedly, one of his hands on your waist raising to tuck a loose strand of  hair out of your eyes and behind your ear.

“And you are a beautiful stubborn angel” He replied.  You blinked, licking over your lips and biting your cheek to keep from smiling too much.  WIth that, he leaned into you, you barely standing onto the tips of your toes to meet his lips in a soft kiss.

You’d been kissed before, by your parents, a fleeting boyfriend once a long time ago, but this felt so, so different.

Perfect, right.

And when you parted, eyes wide for a moment out of the shock it left you in, Richie smiled at you, leaning his forehead down against yours.

“I think I’m falling in love with you too, Richie Tozier” You mumbled, eyes fluttering shut as you swayed softly to the music with him.

He just smiled with delight, staying silent.

It was comfortable to be silent with you there.



k but in real life he’d be runnin’ his mouth about how hot you are and how much he wants to shove his tongue down your throat, but let’s be real, he’d still be a sweetie

xoxo ~ jordie

A quick drabble (mostly dialogue) of how Milo and Melissa met Zack on the Hogwarts Express, on their first year at the School. The actual stories I have take place when they’re all 13, but I’ll have some one-shots about Milo’s life leading up to his first day of school. This AU will have some inaccuracies with JK Rowling’s universe from her books, but that’s what AUs and parodies are for ;) 

***********

Most of the booths on the train were either filled or contained children who were familiar with Milo’s condition. He was used to doors closing moments before he arrived, so he never took any heed and would continue onwards.

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Break everything I am.

I really don’t think I have the right to say sorry for disappearing anymore nor will I say I am back for good. Working through a few requests at the moment so you can at least expect some contents in the next few days! 

This was sort of inspired by Sam Smith’s Too Good At Goodbyes and the timeline is pretty blurry/mixed here and as per usual, there are probably mistakes here and there and it’s a little bit over 1500 words too, if that is any form of compensation. So I hope you will still enjoy this!


“He proposed.”

It takes every ounce of control you have to not react to what your son has just told you. You hum in response, a little bit thankful that you have your back turned to him, as you finish making tea for the both of you. Pouring the tea in the mugs, you turn around to give one to Damian – who is staring, no, it is a cross between glaring and frowning at you – before taking a seat beside him.

“She said yes.” Damian grips the mug tightly, not even minding the fact that the mug is still fairly hot. What he does mind is the lack of response from you.

You pull the comforter over your lap, very well aware that your son is glaring holes on your face. It takes a few seconds for you to slowly nod your head. Damian continues to look at you and you bring the mug up to your lips, sipping the tea but unfortunately, the news he brought with him made the tea taste extremely bitter.

“Mother – “

You rarely ever cut off Damian having been one of the few adults that would actually listen to him but this time, it is different and the surprise definitely shows on his face when you not too gently set your mug on the coffee table in front of you.

“Damian, I am not sure what you want me to do… or to say.” You begin carefully. You cannot lie and say that hearing the news from Damian instead of Bruce did not hurt you because it did – mostly because you had expected Bruce to be the one to tell you a news this big. “Your father and I…,” You shake your head as you try to reign in your scattered thoughts. “I understand that you do not like Selina but once upon a time, you also did not like me either.” You had to smile at this – Damian has the decency to flush lightly before bristling in anger, or annoyance – you could not tell at this point.

“That is different!” He hisses and you narrow your eyes at him and he visibly deflates before placing his mug on the coffee table. “Sorry for raising my voice at you, mother.” He grumbles and you nod your head, prompting him to continue talking. “It is just that she is not a good match for him – and I do not want her.”

At times like this, you really wish you can string words together eloquently but you understand that change is something hard for Damian to accept and trying to coerce him to accept Selina will probably result in the opposite. Deep down inside, you cannot help but feel a tad bit happy to know that Damian is feeling this way – no one ever said you were not petty.

Despite what has happened, Damian is still your son and he still thinks of you very highly too – he never lets you forget, neither of them ever do too – and your opinion and understanding are two of the things he often seeks from you. The same can be said for the rest of the boys too even though you have separated from Bruce.

Trying to overlook the hurt and the tinge of regret, you decide to push this matter to the back of your head, filling it for when you actually have a moment to yourself. You simply decide to do what you think Damian actually needs from you: you wrap your arms around him and pull Damian in your arms, burying your nose in his hair. Tears well up in your eyes as you take a whiff of his scent – he smells just like him and suddenly you feel very tired and sad. It takes Damian a few seconds to wrap his own pair of arms around you, relaxing in your embrace. This is how the two of you spent the night – just you comforting your son in the best way you can think of and Damian basking in your warmth. The same warmth that has been missing from the manor for the past year.

The next morning is a whole different story. You had woken up to Damian preparing breakfast for you and it almost touched you that he still remembers all of your breakfast food – you had wanted to do the same for him but he had beat you to it. The two of you did not talk about the news he brought last night and when it was time for Damian to return back to the manor, you let him leave with a heavy heart.

Just as you think you finally have time to think about the news, Jason comes in through your window. If you were anyone else, you probably would have been surprised and screamed bloody murder but alas, you were used to it. The two of you had a staring contest for the longest of times before Jason pads over to you, wrapping his arms around you.

“I’m sorry, Ma.” He murmurs.

You simply tighten your hands on the back of his jacket, shaking your head. You did not need the pity – you have made your grave and now, you simply need to lay in it.

“Do you want something to eat?” You ask after a while, finally pulling away from him. Jason looks at you. “I have leftovers from breakfast – Damian made some of my favourites.” You explain, pulling Jason to the kitchen.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

I love the Victuuri fluff prompts you post!! The baking vlogger Victor one in particular made my heart all warm and fuzzy (*˘︶˘*).。.:*♡

aaaaaaaa omg thank you! <3

here’s a little something, then: 

The idea came up when they were done with the season and brainstorming different ways of enjoying each other’s company in their first off-season together in St. Petersburg. It didn’t matter who’d thought of it first, what mattered was that, at some point, they’d both agreed it would be a sweet idea and that they’d have a lot of fun doing it.

After a couple of days of research, they record a cooking video. Yuuri offers to record (still somewhat camera shy, Victor knows, but he dismisses that saying he’s had enough experience helping Phichit record videos) and Victor, with Makkachin’s well-behaved support, are the stars of the show. 

Their video goes viral in a matter of minutes. It’s impressive. 

It starts off very simple: a shot with a happy Makkachin lolling her tongue and a cute little mug cake on the counter with a simple handwritten title overlaid on it. Then, it transitions to a very cozy and domestic Victor Nikiforov, who waves at the camera with a bright smile. Makkachin, at his side, wags her tail.

“Hi! I’m Victor Nikiforov and today I’ll share my personal, homemade mug cake recipe! It’s very simple and quick to make, an ideal snack for a rainy afternoon like today when you want to relax at home and watch some movies,” he winks playfully at the camera. “After I’m done baking, my recipe is going to be judged by the best mug cake connoisseur who is going to give it a score based on taste, appearance and…" 

He waggles his eyebrows comically as the camera zooms in his face - perhaps a bit too close when only Victor’s eyes are in the shot. He hesitates, his dramatic expression breaking when Yuuri bursts out laughing off camera, and it abruptly cuts. 

Victor is smiling on the next shot as if he’s been laughing for the past five minutes, and his clear effort to keep it together is adorable.

“Alright, as I was saying, my mug cake is going to be judged on taste, appearance and overall presentation - ‘is it a mug cake?’ is the question we’re trying to answer here today. With me, I have Makkachin - say hi, Makka!” Makkachin wags her tail vigorously. “She’s going to give me moral support - something of dire importance when you’re baking mug cake. Let’s get the ingredients!”

On a quick little montage, all items are displayed on the pristine kitchen counter. Those with keen eyes can tell that Yuuri is the mastermind behind that staged shot, all ingredients neatly placed and ready to be mixed. Again, overlaid handwritten instructions with cute little arrows point out how many portions are going to be needed.

“I came up with this recipe when I was living with Yakov and Lilia,” he says, and it’s clear he’s not speaking to the audience because he keeps looking at his fiancé off-camera as he beats an egg in the mug. “They were very strict about my diet when I was off-season, and I’d crave sweet things so I ended up making a small-sized cake using the least utensils possible.”

“And what are you doing now?” Yuuri’s sweet voice says off-camera, zooming in on Victor, who looks at him in confusion.

“The mug cake,” he states the obvious, pouring milk into the mug. Yuuri chuckles.

“You have to tell us! You have to talk to the camera, Vitya!”

“Oh!” He laughs. “Right, yes, so… Uh… After you’re done beating the egg you’re going to add oil and milk and mix it well - you know, that wet ingredients and dry ingredients rule. Is it a rule?”

“I don’t know,” Yuuri hums.

“Well, OK. I’m using the same spoon to pour and mix the ingredients because… It’s always the same spoon. And I don’t want to wash a lot of dishes.”

“Sustainable cooking.”

“Exactly,” Victor chuckles as he adds chocolate powder and mixes carefully, all under Makkachin’s curious gaze. “So now we start adding the dry ingredients, but you have to be careful-” the camera switches to his face and zooms comically again, and the shot is all Victor’s eyes, sometimes only his mouth “-because you don’t want the flour to, uh, make bubbles. Bubbles?”

“Yeah, it gets…” Yuuri is very clearly trying not to laugh. “You have to mix it well, got it.”

“Exactly, you don’t want to find flour bombs in your mug cake,” the shot is in Victor’s hands as he adds sugar. “So we’re going to mix these first and leave flour and yeast last. Yuuri?”

“I’m recording.”

“All of me?”

All you can see is Victor’s hand on the screen, with his golden ring shining poetically.

“Yeah.”

The next shot is serious again, with Victor adding spoonfuls of flour with a tense expression.

“Oh, no.”

“What’s wrong, babe?”

Victor hesitates, with a spoon in one hand and sack of flour in the other, staring at the mug.

“I think I put too much flour.”

“Oh, no!”

“What do I do?” He bursts out laughing. “Oh, no!! I screwed up! It was supposed to be three spoons and I put four full ones? Help me, Yuuri!!” Victor whines, looking at the camera with supplicant eyes as he slowly swirls the ingredients in the mug.

“I can’t, I’m the cameraman,” he says with a chuckle.

“Makkachin!! Help me!!”

“You’re getting flour all over your shirt,” Yuuri laughs, and Victor pauses to look at the mess he’s made.

“Aw, no…”

A quick montage comes up with a close-up shot of Victor mixing the flour in the mug then adding some yeast. The tragedy, it seems, was limited to Victor’s drama, because the mixed ingredients look pretty good.

When it transitions to Victor again, the camera is positioned closer, and it’s clear Victor cannot look away from his gorgeous cameraman.

“Now that Makkachin has saved the day - thanks, Makka! - we are going to put it in the microwave for three minutes. And be careful, it’s going to be super hot when it’s done, so wait a few minutes until it’s cooled down before eating.”

Another quick montage of the mug spinning in the microwave, Victor cleaning up the counter and Makkachin being a good girl plays to the sound of a light, cheery music. Then, the microwave beeps and Victor picks the mug carefully and sets it on the counter.

Back to its original placement, the camera now frames Victor, Yuuri and Makkachin, all looking excited about the mug cake. 

Looking at the camera, Victor announces:

“So now I have here, with me, an authority in mug cakes,” Yuuri hides his smile behind his hand as he gazes at Victor. “A man who has traveled around the world looking for the perfect mug cake recipe and who is going to judge my homemade mug cake with the highest of standards. Isn’t that right, Yuuri?”

Yuuri, blushing, nods and tries to appear serious.

“Should I mouth-feed you the bite?” Victor asks in all seriousness. And Yuuri, apparently forgetting about the camera, smiles and nods at him.

“What am I judging you on?" 

"Oh,” Victor pauses with the fork in his hand. “You have to give me a score based on taste, appearance and is it a mug cake?

“OK.”

“So, please, have a look,” he gestures at the mug and Yuuri steps closer, inhaling a deep breath and humming in approval.

“It smells amazing. And it looks a bit…” Yuuri shakes his head, “I think I can see some flour you didn’t manage to mix.”

“Damn it.”

“But I’m intrigued. Let’s taste it!”

And, in what could possibly be the most romantic scene in all video, Victor takes a forkful of chocolate cake and feeds it to Yuuri, his other hand automatically reaching to caress his cheek. Yuuri gazes back into his eyes, fluttering his eyes shut as he tastes the bite and nods, eyes closed. Victor watches him expectantly, his hand seemingly forgotten on Yuuri’s cheek and grazing the pad of his thumb like it’s a natural instinct. 

“It’s very good.”

Victor sighs with relief, laughing with Yuuri at his own reaction.

“It tastes sweet, but not too sweet, you know?”

“Exactly! I had to fool Yakov somehow - sorry, Yakov.”

“I really like it, this is delicious,” Yuuri pokes him for another bite.

“OK, but the final question…”

“… Is it a mug cake?”

Victor nods, expectantly. And taking his time, Yuuri grabs another bite and chews on it, pondering, raising an eyebrow just to tease Victor. 

“It is a mug cake.”

Victor cheers, asking Makkachin for a high-five and giving Yuuri a gentle kiss on his cheek, wrapping him in a hug as Yuuri chuckles.

“Final score?” He asks, excited.

“I’d give this mug cake a gold medal.”

“Wow! Yuuri!” Victor beams, wrapping his arms tighter around Yuuri. “Alright, and what should we do next?”

Tapping his chin with his finger (a classic Nikiforov quirk), Yuuri takes a moment to think about it.

“Cookies.”

“Cookies!” Victor echoes, excited. “Do you know how to bake cookies?”

“I do!”

“Perfect! For my next video, we will have a very special guest,” he winks at the camera. “Thanks for watching!”

But I’m Not a Baby (part 1)

Pairing: AmazingPhil & Daniel Howell

Genre: Fluff, light/smut, light/little!space

Word Count: 6000

Summary: After a visit to the dentist, Dan is prescribed a form of ‘medication’ he doesn’t necessarily agree with.

Author Note: Since all my past little!space fics have been fairly well received, I wanted to write another. However, I want this one, for sake of believability (used loosely), to be paced out better. So this will be a full series. This may not be packed with little!space but it will only get better from here!

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Ashamed (Part 2) | Sweet Pea x Reader

Originally posted by lovegalorex

Summary: Reader is friends with Archie and the gang, this is why she has been keeping her relationship with Sweet Pea a secret causing Sweet Pea to question things.

A/N: This is the final part to Ashamed, hope you all enjoy it. Feedback and requests are welcome.

Part 1

You were currently waiting in Perkins Park for Sweet Pea not wearing nearly enough layers, it was a sunny day outside, but the wind was chilling. After Sweet Pea stormed out of your house last night you had been sending him endless amount of texts and calling him. Usually you would give Sweets some time to be alone after a fight and get his head in the right space, but he was so upset and broken last night that you needed to know he was okay. The look of hurt and sadness on his face still haunted you, you were determined to fix it.

In one last attempt you sent Sweets a message begging him to meet you in Perkins Park on the North Side which could be a mistake. You would have gone to him on the South Side, but without Sweets you had no one to take you there, and you weren’t stupid enough to try and walk there all by yourself. You weren’t that desperate at least not yet. 

~

You had been waiting for Sweets for at least an hour, you knew this was a stupid idea. Why would Sweet Pea even want to see you after what you did? And at the North side as well, there was never any hope. Just as you began getting ready to go you hear the roar of a motorbike piercing through the quiet causing the few people in the park to look up curiously. 

Sweet Pea clambered off his bike sauntering over to where I was standing, the now glares of the people in the park following him along. He sneers at a young couple who are both staring at him. Though on closer inspection you can see his bloodshot eyes and the dark bags underneath them. You knew Sweets puts on a tough exterior when he gets hurt. It was his defense mechanism but it also made him very difficult and hard to talk to.
“What do you want Y/N, I don’t really feel like being lied to today.” He tries to snarl but his voice comes out shaky.
“Sweets I just want to apologise. I’m sorry for hurting you that was never my intention believe it or not i was trying to protect you and our relationship but I ended up ruining it.”
“So that’s it, you expect me to become your dirty little secret again.” He scoffs.
“No sweets, I just … I should have told my friends about us from the beginning, from the moment I knew I loved you. I was just scared that they would try to ruin what we had and tear us apart.”
“Y/N, you deserve someone who you wouldn’t be ashamed of. Some North Sider who can treat you like a Princess and spoil you like you deserve. Stop wasting your time on me.”
He abruptly turns to leave, but I grab his arm gently pulling him back. I knew that Sweets always had doubts about him being good enough, but you always tried to reassure him as best you could. You hated that this was making him believe his doubts.
“Sweets no one could treat me better than you do. I know I hurt you, but I am not ashamed of you,” You cupped your heads around his cheeks causing him to bring his own hand up holding yours in place.
“Sweets look at me,” he dragged his eyes from the ground to meet yours. “I Love you so much and I am so sorry I made you feel this way.”
He leans into you, and plants his lips on yours, you smile into the kiss melting into it.
He pulls away chuckling at your little whine “I love you too Princess.” he whispered. 

~

You and sweets spent the rest of the day at the park, you leaning against a tree with him lying down, head resting on your lap as you played with his hair. Unfortunately for you two, a bunch a Riverdale high students decided to file into the park, “You should go, you don’t want them to see us together.” He whispers gently getting up and placing a kiss on your hand.
“Not anymore Sweets, no more secrets.” You get up too, leaning up to give him a kiss in front of all the Riverdale high students. He holds your hips keeping you from kissing him, “Y/N they will all see.” He whispers.
“I don’t care.” You smirk, throwing your arms around his neck pulling him towards you, kissing him with as passionately as possible. He pulls you by the hips so your body is flush with his returning your kiss. You pull away out of breath.
“Let’s get out of here.” He rests his head against yours. You pull away grabbing his hand, feeling him drape his Serpent jacket over your shoulders, leaning over and whispering in my ear “Just so all those Northsiders know you’re my girl.”
“I think they already know that.” You could clearly see some of the stares the Riverdale high students were giving you two.
“Are you sure you’re ready to tell Archie and the gang? We can wait.” Sweets asked concerned.
“As long as you’re by my side, it will all be fine. They’ll just have to deal with it.”
He chuckled putting his arm around your waist, leading you to his bike happy to finally show off his girl.

A/N: Thank you for all the support on this imagine and to all the people that asked for a part 2. Sorry if this isn’t the best work.

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All Of Me

Originally posted by nwetss


Pairing: Steve Harrington x Reader

Summary: (Y/N) was having her breakdowns and Steve, her boyfriend, was ready to cheer her up. 

Word count: 1.078

Posted: 20th of November 2017 

A/N: Another Steve imagine, guys! I am so sorry for not posting much, but I am planning some surprises for you. So, please, don’t be angry if I don’t post anything in these days. I really am sorry. 

I hope you enjoy my imagines, guys! I would appreciate it if you leave some comments or feedbacks below. Thank you so much. 

- G. x

Warning: low self-esteem and insecurities 


“Babe, what’s happening?” Your boyfriend, Steve, worriedly asked as he saw you curled up in a ball on your bed in your own bedroom. He heard your loud sobs and you couldn’t help but cry even more when you felt his strong arms around your waist as he lied down behind you. “Dustin told me that you never went out of your room the whole day, not even for breakfast and lunch.”

“It’s nothing, Steve.” You shook your head, totally pushing the sweet boy away. You carelessly wiped the tear stains off your face and you tried to stop your sobs, choking yourself completely. You ignored his words, because you wanted to do nothing, except of crying.

“Hey, you can always talk to me.” He assured you, whispering softly in your ears. You unleashed a long and deep sigh as you felt bad for being a little cry baby. “What happened?”

“Seriously,” You nonchalantly started as you shrugged your shoulders. You were so close that you had no secrets in your relationship, you were not afraid to express yourself, also because he had never judged you and you knew that he would never do it. “I just feel so useless, so insecure.”

It wasn’t the first time that you would feel insecure. In fact, it already happened several times since you’ve started dating Steve, so it wasn’t really a new thing for your boyfriend. However, he never got tired of assuring you whenever you would feel bad about yourself.

“Babe, I have already told you that I still love you no matter what, right?” He sweetly said as he caressed your hair. You covered your bodies with your warm blankets as you started to feel the cold breeze coming from the slightly opened window of your room. “You should never think of it, never.”

“I know but,” You harshly bit your lower lip while you thought of all the girls that drooled over your boyfriend: they were all pretty and gorgeous, not having any flaws. “just look at Nancy or Amy or Becky, they are all good looking. All of these girls have crushes on you.”

“Jealousy attacks!” You heard your brother, Dustin, poking fun at your situation and you just groaned in annoyance. You heard Steve giggle a little bit, but he quickly stopped and shooed Dustin away, making him close the door to leave you some privacy.

“Babe,” Steve started as he made you face him. He looked at your dull and puffy eyes, smiling a little bit whilst he realized how beautiful his girlfriend was. “I don’t care about Nancy or Amy or Becky or any other girl in our school. I am already lucky because I am in a relationship and, I love to specify, with the most beautiful girl in this planet too.”

Your heart melted when you heard your boyfriend’s sweet words. The weight that rested on your chest since you woke up was lightened up by his words and you couldn’t help but thank him for that.

“You should never feel useless, mostly insecure. You are beautiful and perfect. You are never useless, because you make me happy, you make me feel better, you make my heart beat at its fullest. You are a good daughter, a lovely sister and a wonderful girlfriend and partner. You aren’t useless and many people think that you are not, like me, your mother, Dustin and his friends.” He added whilst wiping the tears off your face with his thumbs. He then cupped your cheeks and analysed your face. You quickly felt the heat as you caught his calm and soft gaze, making you blush completely.

He praised you with very sweet and kind words, but you still didn’t believe him. It was hard to love yourself, when you really didn’t think that you were enough.

“I am not perfect, Steve. I am full of imperfections.” You debated, contradicting what he has just said. You were downhearted and you thought that Steve was so patient enough to make you feel better, nevertheless he has repeated uncountable times that you worth something.

“You are perfect, way beyond perfect, I may add, and that is exactly because of your imperfections, babe.” You buried your face on the crook of his neck and he pressed a gentle kiss on the top of your head. “I love your curves, your edges, your flaws, everything.”

You bit your lower lip once again and Steve really made you feel better, slowly accepting your flaws and loving them. You tried to build yourself once again, putting your confidence blocks one on top of the another. “Thank you, Steve.” You mumbled as you drew small circles using your thumb on your boyfriend’s back.

“It’s not a big deal, (Y/N)!” He exclaimed, assuring you that it was fine. “I will never get tired of repeating you that you are beautiful, because that’s what I really think. It doesn’t matter if there are other girls drooling over me, I already have the best with me and I will always want the best for me, right? Right.” He pulled you closer to him and hugged you tightly to assure that you were just his, being the possessive boyfriend that he was.

“I’m sorry.” You sincerely apologized and he just chuckled. He planted another kiss on the top of your head and shook his head.

“Don’t be sorry, babe.” He widely smiled. “All of me loves all of you, only you, remember that.”

“I love you too, Steve.” You secretly flashed a sweet smile, but your boyfriend felt it as your lips brushed through his smooth skin.

“I love you more.” He insisted before grabbing your chin and pressing a passionate kiss on your lips. You flutter closed your eyes and you let your lips dance with his, lingering the unforgettable moments that you were spending with Steve.

You were lucky because you found someone who loved you for everything, someone who was not afraid to express his feelings, someone who didn’t give up on you easily, mostly in the times of your personal crisis.

“Stop being insecure, please?” He pleaded with a sweet pout on his face. You just giggled as you still savoured the taste that his lips allowed.

“Then stop being perfect and attracting other girls, Steve Harrington!” You playfully joked, making you both laugh loudly.

“Idiot,” He kissed you once again, but it was just a fast one this time. “my perfect idiot.”


Here’s a currently untitled little ficlet based off of recent spoilers (ya’ll know the ones) and the possibilities that it may not be as it seems. however, this is all speculation and an excuse for me to write some bed sharing! :D


The Sinnerman grips Chloe roughly by the forearm. They stand on the edge of Lux’s penthouse balcony, wind whipping at Chloe’s hair.

“You will regret this.” Lucifer growls, fury barely restrained. How he wishes for his Devil Face, a flash of his true face and the human would be gibbering and useless.

“Maybe.” the Sinnerman man shrug. “But I really doubt it.”

Lucifer steps closer, tries to get a read on Chloe. She’s holding herself still, ready to act the moment she can, but her eyes are scared. He tries to wordlessly communicate to her not to worry, that he’ll get them out of this somehow. The Sinnerman’s gun presses harder into her side.

“I wouldn’t get any closer.” the Sinnerman cautions.

Chloe closes her eyes and bites at her mouth. Lucifer stops, unwilling to endanger her.

“What do you want?” Lucifer says between gritted teeth.

He laughs. “What do I want? I’m afraid you little tricks won’t work on me, Morningstar. But I’ll be lenient, just this once, and tell you.”

There’s a beat of silence stretched out between them and the Sinnerman’s smile goes cruel.

“I want you to answer a question.” he says.

“Anything.” Lucifer replies instantly, desperate.

“Does it terrify you? That she will finally know what you are?” the Sinnerman grins triumphantly and pushes Chloe off the edge.

She screams.

Chloe!” Lucifer yells, her name torn from his throat. He sprints to the balcony and launches himself after her without any hesitation.

He spots her easily, free falling just below him. He angles himself, streamlining in order to catch up to her. Her eyes are wide and terrified as he cuts through the air towards her. He is close enough to reach out to her, straining, and then his hand closes around her arm and he pulls her to him, arms enfolding.

She clutches at him, desperate. “Lucifer!” she gasps in his ear.

“It’s alright, it’s alright. I’ve got you.” he says and goes to unfurl his wings…and there’s nothing. He looks over his shoulder to see nothing, blood soaking through his shirt in two wet patches, hot and sticky.

No.

They tumble helplessly through the air, the wing muscles along his spine cramping as they try to move limbs that aren’t there. “Father, please.” he begs, wrapping himself around Chloe more fully.

There is no answer. His wings remain absent.

“I’m sorry.” he tells her, distraught. “I’m so sorry.” He doesn’t know if she can hear him, the wind tearing the words away the moment he utters them.

He keeps her face tucked against his neck. He doesn’t want her to see how close they are to the end. They plummet, tangled up together, the ground rushing up to meet them. Then everything goes dark.

*

Lucifer comes awake with a strangled scream, jolting upright, lungs heaving. He’s drenched with sweat, trailing down his back, collected in the hollow of his throat. His sheets are soaked with it. He shivers, chilled.

He pulls his wings into the physical plane, curls them around himself. A built-in safety blanket of feathers, glowing slightly in the darkness. For the first time since they’ve been stuck unwillingly to his back, he is grateful for their presence.

It was only a dream.

Bloody hell, that was horrible. Fright still curls in his veins, frantic. He can’t just sit here. He has to know, he has to make sure she’s alright.

He kicks away the tangled bedding and gets to his feet. He slides on a pair of pants, snatches up a shirt from off the floor and throws it on, barely bothering with buttons.

He reaches for his keys out of habit and then stops. It won’t be fast enough, not to sate this unrelenting panic. He walks out to that same balcony, but there’s no Sinnerman, no danger. Even so, he can still hear Chloe’s phantom scream ring through his ears.

Lucifer splays his wings out, feeling the way the wind drifts through his feathers. He gives them an experimental flap, reveling in the smooth motion, the flex of muscle.

For the first time, he flies.

*

There’s an insistent knock at her door. Chloe blinks blearily, her mind slow to understand the noise that drug her from sleep.

Her phone tells her it’s an ungodly hour and that means it can only be one person. She supposed she should be grateful he didn’t just break in like he normally does.

She hauls herself out of bed, looks at her threadbare pajama pants and her oversized LAPD shirt and decides if he’s going to bother her at this time in the morning he can deal with her appearance.

She shuffles over to the door, nearly rattling with the force of his knocking, and opens it. Lucifer stares back at her, leaning against the side of the door frame. He looks disheveled, hair wild, his shirt buttons mismatched. He’s barefooted, toes peeking out from under his pant legs.

“Lucifer, what -” she starts.

“You’re okay.” he breathes, like it’s salvation. Then he’s moving forward, fingers on the side of her face first, then the rest of him as he steps through and embraces her. “You’re okay.” he repeats and she realizes he’s trembling, holding her almost too tight.

It’s the first time he’s ever initiated contact like this. She returns the hug, wrapping her arms around his waist.

“I’m fine, Lucifer. Everyone is fine.” she tells him, mostly muffled by his chest. Still, she lets him hold her, far past the point of propriety. He’s warm and solid against her, banishing the chill that the still open door is letting in.

He finally eases back and now he looks embarrassed. She doesn’t let him go far, catching at his wrist and keeping him near.  

“What’s this all about, Lucifer?” she asks when he won’t meet her gaze.

“Just a nightmare, Detective. Nothing more.” he says dismissively. “I shouldn’t have bothered you.” he begins to tug himself loose, but she tightens her grip.

“Don’t.” she says, voice firm. “Stay.” she commands in a voice that expects obedience. His feet remain rooted where he stands. She steps around him and closes the door, sealing off the cooler night air trying to sneak in. She turns back to him. “Now, what was this all about?”

He shifts. “It is foolish.”

She pushes back in his space, almost a hug except that their arms remain at their sides. His head dips down towards hers, like the pull of gravity. 

“Tell me anyway.” she says softly.  

“You were falling.” he says hoarsely. He closes his eyes tight. “And I couldn’t catch you.”

Chloe sighs faintly and rests her head against his sternum. It rises and falls slightly with his breathing. Then she straightens. “Well, come on, then.” she says and starts to walk back to her room.

“Detective?” he asks, uncertain. She looks back at him, standing there, looking lost and unsure.

“Are you coming?” Chloe asks, raising her brows. She gives him an impatient gesture and that finally spurs his feet after her. He halts again at the threshold of her bedroom, seeming bewildered at this sequence of events.

“I’m sorry, I think I’ve misunderstood.” he says.

“If you went back home, would you get any more sleep tonight?” she asks.

“No.” he replies quietly. Yeah, that’s what she thought.

“And then I would be up all night worried about you after you left, so this way maybe we both can get some rest before we have to go into work tomorrow, alright?”

The fact that he doesn’t argue with her or make a lascivious comment tells her that this nightmare really shook him. He just brings his hands up to slowly undo the buttons on his shirt. He hangs it on the back of her doorknob while she gets back in bed. He reaches for the covers and pulls them back, sliding carefully into bed beside her. 

There’s an odd swoop of sensation in her stomach at the mattress dipping with his weight. It has been a long time since she’s shared a bed with someone and nerves flutter briefly in her belly before she pushes them away.

He settles himself, tense and holding his body carefully away from hers. Well, she’s not having any of that nonsense and rolls close. His eyes are shadowed and unfathomable in the dark, and she meets them for a moment before she wriggles down against him, nose at his throat, sliding an arm around his waist. She forces herself to relax and, after a moment, he gradually eases and winds his arms around her, too.

He exhales a shuddery breath into her hair and Chloe makes a small humming noise of contentment, pressing soothing patterns into his back with her fingertips. They fall asleep like that, tangled up in one another, and nightmares do not visit them.

Friend Zone - 2

Summary:

You had had a crush on your best friend for as long as you could remember, there was definitely no doubt about that. He never saw you that way and it was best that you came to terms with that. It didn’t help when he got a girlfriend and you were forced to get rid of your feelings. It didn’t help at all.

Originally posted by yccnseok

Genre: Angst

Admin: Nova

Word Count: 2.4k

Warnings:

Extremely triggering, mentions of suicide, suicide attempts, mentions of rape, small rape section.
Please be aware I don’t want this to be extremely triggering but I will have a part of that and I hope it is still readable to others.
I want my stories to be real without sugar coating anything but I will try my best to minimize it if possible.

1

After hanging out with everyone you sat at the dining table in your apartment. Alone. Jungkook had dropped off Yuna and was going to come back after. For at least an hour you sat by yourself drinking tea.

You were honestly thankful for the time you got to spend alone, it allowed you to think about everything. You realized after some time in your thoughts that being jealous and mad wasn’t going to get you anywhere. You knew Jungkook didn’t feel the same way so why were you going to act childish over something you couldn’t get?

You decided that the best and most adult thing to do would to get over your feelings and support Jungkook the best you could.

Interrupting your thoughts the door opened and in walked Jungkook. You gave him a warm smile and brought your warm cup of tea closer to you.

“Welcome home.”

“Hey Y/n.” Jungkook greeted and took a seat at the dining table across from you. “Can we talk?”

You started to get anxious. You weren’t necessarily nervous about anything but you hated when people made you wait in anticipation for what was to come next. You nodded your head and urged him to continue speaking.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about Yuna.” He sighed, a hint of guilt in his voice.

“Kookie don’t be sorry it’s fine, you could have told me whenever you were ready.” You waved off.

“Yeah but I’m more sorry about not telling her about you. You are my best friend after all.”

“Well why didn’t you?” You asked curiously staring down at the dark liquid remaining in your cup.

“I thought she would be jealous or something, or get the wrong idea.” He explained fiddling with his fingers. Your heart ached but you tried pushing the feeling away. You stood up and wrapped your arms around Jungkook’s shoulders resting your head atop of his.

“It’s all fine don’t worry about it. Just promise me one thing.”

“What?”

“You don’t forget about me and tell me ahead of time if she comes over, I’m not into third wheeling.”

Jungkook chuckled, turning around and wrapping his arms around you. “I promise, and I could never forget you Y/n, you’re the best.”

“I know.” You sighed.


The next week carried on as usual. You went to your classes and either came home to study or hung out with Tae and Jimin who had a similar schedule to yours and offered to hang out often. Jungkook usually hung out with you as well but he was spending most of his time with Yuna and you didn’t mind.

That was all until Friday rolled around and the entire group was invited to a party and to your dismay, you had to tag along.

You didn’t mind parties but the effort you had to put in into going was always tiring.

You sat on your living room couch waiting impatiently for Jungkook. To many theories or assumptions that women took longer to get ready it was all a lie when it came to Jungkook. What usually took you 30 minutes to get ready took him and hour and a half.

“Kookie I’m waiting!” You yelled out.

“I’m almost ready!”

You knew he was probably struggling to find a shirt to wear for the important occasion. You felt your clothes were casual yet appropriate. You dressed and a black skirt, a black and white striped tee and a plain black bomber jacket paired with black booties. You felt your outfit also showed your mood.

“Okay okay Y/n, I chose this but i’m not sure if I should just wear a white shirt instead and keep it simple.” You groaned in response looking at him. He wore his timberlands, jeans, a flannel wrapped around his waist with a black shirt and a jacket. It was cute and casual so you didn’t see the problem.

“No that looks fine keep it. Why are you making a big deal on what you wear?” You asked standing up and walking towards him.

“I want to impress Yuna, she’s coming too.” You nodded.

“Cool, is she meeting us or..?”

“We’re gonna pick her up is that alright?” He asked walking towards the front door and grabbing his keys. You and Jungkook usually rode to parties together but you didn’t mind Yuna tagging along, as long as you weren’t the one that had to stay sober.

“That’s fine, are you gonna drink?”

“Nah, not tonight.”

You clapped your hands “Yes, let’s go.”


You two arrived at Yuna’s apartment. You got into the back seat and Jungkook went to bring back Yuna. You waited patiently texting Taehyung back and forth notifying him that you all were on your way and he only responded with impatient replies.

The car door opened and Yuna sat in the passenger seat while Jungkook got into the driver’s seat.

“Hello.” You greeted towards Yuna. Either she didn’t hear you or chose to ignore you because she immediately asked Jungkook, “So who’s party is this?”

You and Jungkook made eye contact in the mirror, you raised a knowingly brow and he only shrugged.

“One of Namjoon’s friends I think, we never really know we just go.” Jungkook replied beginning to drive off. Jungkook and Yuna continued to talk while you zoned out looking at the buildings that passed by on your way. You hadn’t noticed you arrived until the car turned off and Jungkook opened your door because it was the closest. You mumbled a thanks and saw the yuna was still seated and waited for Jungkook to go around and open hers as well. You rolled your eyes, not liking Jungkook was seeming easier than liking her.

“Yuna, this is Y/n you met last week.” Jungkook introduced once you walked around the car towards the couple.

Yuna smiled and you smiled right back before setting off into the house.

The music could be heard from down the street but this was a party neighborhood so you doubted anyone would mind.

You walked into the crowded house, your body clashing with others as you desperately tried to make your way through. Jungkook held Yuna close to him and tried his best to stay close to you as you all tried to maneuver your way through the crowd and towards an empty spot where you could search for the other boys.

Almost out of nowhere your shoulder was roughly grabbed. Your fists were balled ready to strike before you saw Hoseok smiling back at you with a heart shaped smile. You relaxed and let out a sigh of relief.

“You scared the crap out of me!” You yelled out, partly out of exasperation to get your point across, another part because the music was practically shaking the whole house making it hard to hear anyone even if they talked directly in your ear.

“I’m sorry!” Hoseok laughed wiping a nonexistent tear from the corner of his eye. “Come on, everyone is outside.” He motioned his hand towards Jungkook and Yuna to follow him before grabbing your hand interlocking it with his and directing you outside where your group of friends were. Once you all walked outside the music began to feel distant and everyone stood up to meet you all halfway.

“Glad you could make it Y/n it’s been awhile.” Jin hugged you.

“I literally saw you on campus this morning.” You laughed.

“Felt like ages ago.”

“You dork, if you want to see me more then I don’t know why you don’t come over.” You teased.

“Well maybe I will come over more!” Jin mocked and you only laughed playfully pushing him away.

“I want to see Y/n more too!” Namjoon yelled out looking at you in disbelief as if he was shocked he didn’t get an invitation.

“Me too, i’m hurt Y/n.” Yoongi intervened with a pained expression.

“Same here.” Hobi said with a pout.

“I would say ‘me too’ but I see Y/n everyday.” Jimin said smugly.

“Goodness I know i’m a blessing but no need to fight.” You put your hands up. You expected some sort of expression from everyone but they all looked at you blankly making you look stupid. You cleared your throat and rolled your eyes.

“You guys can sleep over tonight if you want.” Everyone erupted in cheers thanking you.

“Ah a group sleepover? Can’t wait we haven’t had on in awhile.” Jungkook jumped in. He caught you by surprise since he hadn’t spoken since you guys arrived.

“I call sleeping with Y/n! She gives the best cuddles.” Tae yelled grabbing you by the shoulders and bringing you into a tight hug as if to prove how cuddly you were.

“Junkookie-ah I have an exam tomorrow I can’t stay over.” Yuna whispered to jungkook but you were close enough to hear over the boys who started fighting over who was sleeping where. You couldn’t help but let out a small giggled at the fact that she thought she was invited. You then mentally scolded yourself for being mean, even if it was in your head.   

“Oh, well you can always come over another day.” Jungkook offered awkwardly.

“Well I want to hang out with your friends too.” You could hear her pout and you desperately tried to not get annoyed.

“This is what the party is for, c’mon let’s all go sit down and get a drink.” You thanked Jungkook in your head and followed them along with the rest of the guys to a fire pit that was in the farthest of the backyard and seemed almost closed off by bushes. Everyone took a seat and sat around the slowly growing fire grabbing bottles filled with alcohol.

The rest of the night was filled with laughter from all eight of you. Yuna however, seemed to be upset the whole night glaring at the fire and not talking to anyone. You dismissed this however and joked with the rest of the boys about meaningless things. You drank along with them and started to feel yourself getting a little more than tipsy. This was until Hoseok decided to have a chugging contest and you were determined to win just to see their shocked expressions when you were able to deal with your alcohol better than all of them combined.

“You’re in for a treat Min Yoongi.” You teased Yoongi, your last component. You had beat all five other boys who sulked in their chairs staring at you two. This excluded Jungkook who was going to drive everyone home later anyways.

“You think you can beat me?” He challenged with a smirk.

“I know I can beat you.” You smirked. You started to lose your sanity that would most likely tell you that you were done drinking for the night. Yoongi became two then back to one and you knew for sure you were drunk.

“Go!” Namjoon laughed and you both opened your beer bottles chugging as fast as you could. Was this dangerous to you? Yes. Everyone was too drunk to care and having too much fun to say anything. For a split second you felt everything shut down and turn back on causing you to choke on the alcohol. You spit it out in front of you violently coughing hearing Yoongi yelling in victory.

“Oh shit.” Jungkook whispered and ran up to you rubbing you back almost in reassurance.

“Fuck.” You croaked out, your throat hurting you. Jin walked up and handed you a water bottle with a light smile on his face. You quickly took the water and chugged it down feeling the cold substance sooth your dry throat.

“Hey do you not know by now you should probably stop chugging?” Jungkook scolded. You waved him off and sighed in relief when you could breathe again.

“I’m fine, yah.” Everyone started to burst out in laughter soon after you were okay.

“Not so tough are you, Y/n?” Taehyung raised a brow and laughed.

“Oh shut up.”

“Aish, let’s head out, I want to go to Y/n’s”

You didn’t even remember how you got home. Suddenly you were extremely drowsy and leaning against Hoseok as everyone was too concerned with their own conversations.

“Oh we’re home?” You spoke up and looked at everyone who either sat on the floor or on the couch. You sat in between Hoseok and Yoongi while Namjoon and Jungkook sat on the floor in front of you. Jimin Taehyung and Jin walked in with food looking like they were getting ready for a buffet. You felt queasy and looked away.

“Yeah you were passed out for awhile. You should really stop trying to beat everyone at that chugging game.” Jungkook laughed.

“I wanted to win.” You slurred.

“Let’s head to bed, I’m going to pass out soon.” Jimin sighed, standing up and stretching.

“What about the food?” Tae asked shocked. You giggled and threw your head back against the couch.

“Oh,” Jimin looked down and waved off everyone. “But i’m tired.”

“C’mon chim.” You stood up and motioned him over to you. He walked over and slung his arm over your shoulder. “The rest of you guys can figure out who’s sleeping in the guest bedroom.” The boys broke out into an argument, fighting over who was going to bunk in the only extra comfortable bed we had. Jimin led you into your own room and closed the door behind you both. You jumped into you large bed and snuggled into the pillows letting out a sigh of relief.

“Let’s get your jacket off and under the covers.” Jimin pulled at the jacket that hugged your body and was beginning to make you feel slightly uncomfortable. Once the jacket was off you slipped under the covers and sighed once more.

“Do you want to get into some pajamas?” He asked sitting on the bed beside you.

“No, I’m too tired.”

“Y/n?”

“Hm?”

“You didn’t seem that uncomfortable with Yuna and Jungkook today, is everything alright?”

“Well it was mostly because I was drunk, but I think I’m finally getting over him.” You sighed. “Now come here I’m cold.”

Jimin chuckled and got under the covers with you. He brought your body closer to his and rested his head in the crook of your neck.

“That’s good. I’m proud of you.”

“I’m proud of me too.” You drifted off to sleep with Jungkook on your mind.

A/n: Okay so I know this chapter was kind of boring but bear with me! I wanted to get the story going before I added all the glory angst. The next chapter will contain angst and will be up soon!

anonymous asked:

what do you reckon would have happened if tobias had run out of time at the dance in #33 and become re-trapped as a human?

Dear anon, you are evil and I love it.  (Inspired, I assume, by this post.)

  • It’s Jake who finds him out there.  Jake, who stepped out of the dance to get away from the people, the noise, the high school-ness of it all.  Jake who sprints across the field, drops to his knees, slides across the grass and nearly collides with Tobias like a runner coming into home.  Jake who has already figured out what’s happening, Jake who feels a horrible helpless sense of deja vu as he finds himself saying “C’mon, Tobias.  Concentrate.  Morph back.  You can do this.  You can do this, man.  It’s safe, we’re okay.  Just focus.  Just stay calm and morph back—”
    • Only Tobias isn’t calm, and he’s not changing.  He’s breathing in these horrible whooping gasps, frame shaking, rocking in place.  Jake doesn’t know how long he’s been like this, how long it’s already been too late.
    • Rachel comes running out of the building a second later, and Jake looks up in time to catch the expression on her face as she, too, recognizes what’s happening.  Many times in the coming weeks, Jake will try to forget that moment, that look.  Because it tells him more in an instant than he ever, ever wanted to know about his cousin.  “Get Cassie,” Jake tells her, voice harsher than he means it to be. “Go now.”  And then he turns back to Tobias, implicitly dismissing her.
    • Jake is hopeless at keeping track of time; he’s not sure whether it’s been seconds or hours before he stops trying to tell Tobias what to do and starts just trying to calm him down.  He does know that he’s seen Cassie work miracles—Marco and the flea morph, all of them as wolves—but that by the time she drops to the ground in front of Tobias they’re already too late for a miracle.  She helps all the same, both of them working together to bring his breathing from blind panic to pained exhaustion.  Jake registers dimly that Marco is providing a distraction near the door to keep anyone else leaving the school from coming this way, that Ax has demorphed and remorphed and now stands watching them with an expression that is grimness edging into nausea.  It should be Rachel holding Tobias close, shaking with his tremors, desperately wondering how this could have been prevented.  But Jake’s the one who’s here, and he’s not about to let Tobias go so that he can go find her.
  • Tobias ends up going home with Marco that night.  Letting him camp with Jake is out of the question—Chapman and Visser Three at least and half the Yeerk Empire at most know that he’s Elfangor’s kid, so they can’t let Tom connect him to Jake—and Cassie admits there’s no way her parents would let her have a boy spend the night.  The person whose company Tobias wants the most is Ax, but there are bobcats and wolves in the woods behind Cassie’s house that pose too great a risk to a helpless little human out at his scoop.  Rachel offers her own place and there’s a hideously awkward moment of silence during which Tobias finds himself unable to look at her.  Marco throws an arm around his shoulders, cheerfully announces that his dad won’t even notice, and even throws a lascivious wink and a promise to “keep him warm” at Rachel.
  • When they assemble in her barn the next day, Cassie thinks that it might be the most adult conversation they’ve ever had.  Which is saying something.
    • “I’m not going into foster care,” Tobias says flatly.  “And just so we’re clear, that’s what we’d be talking about.  My mom’s list of surviving relatives is not that long, my dad’s is…”  He glances at Ax and attempts a smile.  “Not exactly on record anywhere.  Living with my uncle was my last shot, and I once again proved to be more trouble than I was worth.”
    • Jake clears his throat.  “My parents—”
    • “Are great,” Marco says.  “Really.  But they’ve got two kids already and they’re not just going to adopt a third with no questions asked.”
    • There’s something lurking there, Cassie thinks, something about how much Jake’s family did for Marco after his mom died.  She also knows that Marco would rather stab himself in the eye with a rusty pitchfork than acknowledge it openly.
    • “I asked my mom.”  There’s a rustle of paper, and Rachel pulls out an entire folder from her backpack.  “Turns out, you can become an emancipated minor in California with a job, a place to live, and a guardian’s permission, provided you can prove you’re capable of taking care of yourself and staying in school.”  She flips another sheet.  It’s a computer print-out, judging by the rows of perforated holes along both long edges.  “I, uh, raided my mom’s home office once I knew where to start.  This is a list of local judges who hear that kind of case, along with my mom’s notes on all their personalities and preferences.  I also printed off everything I could find on how this process usually works.”
    • Cassie feels a touch of surprise, cold on her skin, almost like dread.  It has to have taken Rachel hours of careful work to get all this information.  So much effort in so little time all but confirms the worst suspicion Cassie dares not give voice.  Something happened between those two, last night at the dance.  Something was said, or maybe left unsaid, something important.  
    • “Cassie?” Jake says, drawing her back in.  “Morphing human so one of us can pose as his guardian.  Is it worth it?”
    • “I…” She clears her throat, looks from him to Tobias and back.  “I don’t know anymore,” she says sadly.  “It’s all so complicated these days, isn’t it?”
  • Cassie doesn’t hear the conversation that ensues after all the others have left, because by then Rachel and Tobias are the only ones left in her yard, but she could probably guess at its gist if she tried.  “Would you just talk to me?” Rachel demands, when Tobias starts to turn away.  As always, she finds herself getting angry when she doesn’t know how else to react.
    • Tobias turns back around, shoulders hunched defensively.  Amazing how he can still flare without any feathers.  It takes him a moment to work up the courage to ask, but at long last he does.  “Did you do it on purpose?  Trap me in morph, that is.”
    • Rachel crosses her arms.  “Did you?”
    • He rocks back a step, mouth popping halfway open, and for a second Rachel thinks (bitterly) that she’s won.  But when he speaks, his voice is as hard with anger as she’s ever heard it.  “If I had, that would be my choice.”  He presses a fist against his chest.  “My decision to make, with my body.  Not yours.  Never yours.”
    • “I didn’t mean—” Rachel says, and then stops.  She doesn’t know how that sentence ends.  She didn’t mean anything.  She was just acting on impulse, the way she always does.  “I was just…”
    • Tobias blows out a long breath, fighting tears now.  “I love you,” he says at last.  “But I need some time, here.  I don’t know if I’m ever gonna be able to trust you again, and that’s…”  He swallows wetly.  “That’s hurts like hell.”  She starts forward, and he holds up both hands to fend her off.  “Maybe someday,” he says.  “But not soon.”
    • “But how—”  Rachel coughs when her voice wavers.  “Our next mission—”
    • “Don’t you get it?” Tobias shouts.  Tobias.  Shouting.  It’s incomprehensible. “There is no next mission for me!  I’m out.  I’m done.”  He sucks a breath.  “And if something happens to you, or Marco, or Cassie or Ax, because I’m not there to watch your backs—” His voice cracks.  Without another word, he turns around and walks away.
  • Tobias walks for a long time, the dress shoes left over from the dance last night and the jacket he borrowed from Jake (Lakers #8) providing sparse protection.  He gets lost twice, but he knows these woods well enough to orient himself both times, and eventually he finds it by the soft blue glow of the television set against the grey twilight.
    • <Tobias.>  Ax stands up quickly, clearly not having expected him.
    • “I, uh.”  Tobias stuffs both hands in his jacket pockets, discovers the hard way that Jake forgot a piece of gum in one.  “I couldn’t leave you out here all alone, could I?”
    • <I would miss you terribly if you did,> Ax says with his usual knack for bluntness.  <Come, sit.  Days of Our Lives is reaching a point in the narrative marked by increased use of violin music, which means that These Messages are about to start.>
  • The next day, after assuring all of his friends that he was not, in fact, eaten by a bobcat (wondering all the while if they were this worried when he disappeared as a hawk), Tobias starts to try and figure out where he can live.  He’s still a fan of just moving in with Ax—who already has a mini generator for his TV, as he points out, and could easily hook up a space heater and a hot plate too—but even Tobias can admit that the idea wouldn’t be feasible long-term.  Which means they’re back to Rachel’s idea of doing this above-board and legally.
    • So they go: Jake and Cassie as squirrels to sneak through their school’s air vents to steal Tobias’s file from the record room, Rachel and Ax go shake down Mr. DeGroot’s files for everything they can find on Tobias, and on one Alan Fangor.  Tobias, meanwhile, walks straight into Chapman’s office and announces that he’d like to enroll in classes, please.
    • Marco, half-morphed into the office worker he acquired during that whole Visser One debacle (which means he has a distinct limp from where one leg turned out longer than the other and two different-colored eyes but at least a reasonably ordinary adult human appearance) poses as the leader of a youth shelter downtown.  He explains cheerfully that he’d like this-here teen runaway to become all proper-like and legal with a little good old educatin’.
    • Inwardly, Tobias is cringing at Marco’s so-called acting.  Outwardly, however, all he has to do is sit and stare at the wall in sullen silence, which isn’t hard to do.
    • Chapman, who of course knows that Tobias isn’t exactly an ordinary human teenager—who knows he’s not entirely human, period—spends way too long for their comfort peering at Marco in suspicion.  But in the end he accepts their story and, sighing, digs out the necessary paperwork to enroll a new student in the ninth grade.
  • When it happens, Tobias almost misses it.  They’re sitting in Cassie’s barn, papers spread over every surface around them, going through file after file; Ax and Rachel had to steal several whole drawers’ worth of files to disguise the real purpose of their expedition.  And then Jake goes, “huh.”
    • “Social Security Number?” Marco asks.  None of them are quite sure what a Social Security Number is, what one does, or even what one would look like if they found it, but they’re also pretty sure that they’re going to need Tobias’s sooner rather than later.  
    • “No, I just…” Jake glances up at Tobias.  “I just assumed your mom was dead, since you never talk about her or anything.  I didn’t realize she was right here in town.”
    • “Wow,” Rachel snaps.  “Invasion of privacy much?”
    • Jake looks back down at the sheet he’s holding, face flushed.  “Yeah, sorry.  My bad.”
    • “Anyway, I found some housing for Cal Poly students that might be cheap enough,” Cassie says, trying to move them away from the awkward moment.
    • Tobias feels right now the way he did when dive-bombed by a territorial peregrine falcon: as if he has been blindsided, body-slammed, knocked off course and off kilter, unable to find the horizon enough to pull out of this freefall.  “Wait, what?” he hears himself say.  “What about my mom?”
  • Twelve hours later, Tobias finds himself standing on a doorstep eight blocks (eight freaking blocks) from his uncle’s place, literally bouncing up and down with nervous tension.  Marco is once again in his social worker disguise (since apparently the fictional Mr. Eugene Thompson has acquired an MSW now, and if Marco doesn’t learn to keep his story straight then Tobias is going to strangle him), this time with the wide thighs and beer gut and bald patch of a quinquagenarian on his own four-eleven adolescent frame.  Ax is in there, too, in his usual human morph, weak cover story about being a youth counseling intern in place.  Really, though, he’s there because Tobias needs him there.  It’s as simple as that.
    • “This is a bad idea, isn’t it?”  Tobias reaches up to fix his hair, drops his hand before he can make a mess of it, finds himself straightening the hem of his shirt instead.
    • “Probably,” Marco says cheerfully.  “I mean, we do all remember what happened the last time a long-lost relative of yours popped out of the woodwork.  We do remember that, right?”
    • “If this one is also a controller, we will be here to protect you,” Ax tells Tobias solemnly.
    • “Good news.”  Tobias smiles, but he can still hear the bitterness in his own voice.  “This one doesn’t want to adopt me.  In fact, this one doesn’t want me at all.”
    • There’s a nasty silence that follows.  Ax breaks it.  “She felt unqualified to care for an infant.  You are now nearly an adult by human standards, and capable of self-sufficiency.”
    • Tobias straightens his shirt hem again.  Pushes his hair off his face.  Puts his hands in his pockets and pulls them out again.  Preening, in human form.
    • “Up to you, man.”  Marco looks over.  “We can still walk away—”
    • Which is when the front door opens.  “You do know that ding-dong-ditch doesn’t actually work unless you move quickly, right?” the woman on the other side says.  Her voice is light, almost teasing, but the impression of near-harmlessness from her tone and the blankness of her eyes disappears as soon as Tobias registers that her left hand rests lightly (very lightly) on the collar of a large and pissed-off German Shepherd, and that her right has a comfortable grip on the handle of a metal baseball bat.
    • Marco, who clearly also realizes that they’re a few wrong words away from having their brains bashed out and then licked off the floor by a service dog, launches into his best politician voice.  “Good morning, ma’am, and let me say it is a pleasure to meet you.”  He holds out one of his carefully-crafted business cards, blanches as he registers the uselessness of this gesture, and stuffs it back into his pocket.  “My name is Eugene Thompson, and I was hoping to introduce you to—”
    • “Been there, done that.”  Loren’s tone echoes Tobias’s for bitter-edged amusement.  “God did not, it would seem, see fit to to bring back my memories, my balance, or my stunning good looks.  Guess he’s not a laser-guided opthamologist after all.”
    • “Aunt Lydia said you died,” Tobias blurts out.  “She said you ran off and got yourself killed and Uncle George didn’t talk about you at all and this whole time you—You—”
    • The bat slips out of Loren’s hand and hits the floor with a clang.  “Tobias?” she whispers.
    • “Yeah,” he whispers, voice thickening.  “Yeah, it’s me.”
  • Ax watches Loren with no small amount of fascination as she brings them into her home (smaller than Cassie’s or Jake’s, larger than Marco’s), directs them to sit, and perches on the edge of a coffee table across from them.  This odd little alien, with her asymmetrical features and skilled hands—which prepare and pass out four mugs of tea without hesitation—is the reason his brother abandoned a war and his entire species (abandoned his family) to make what he thought was a permanent move to planet Earth.  She and Tobias sit as mirrors across from one another, shoulders hunched, heads tilted, strands of dirty-blond hair falling across soft grey eyes.  Ax finds he wants to subtract out those resemblances, seeking what remains: Does Tobias’s pointed chin come from Elfangor’s human shape?  What about those round cheeks, or his long-fingered hands?
    • “This is a very nice beverage,” Ax slips into a pause in the conversation.  “Bevvvvv-rage.  So bitter, but so warm.  Ingenious.”
    • Loren laughs.  “Glad you like it.  You know, you remind me of…”  She trails off, frowning.  Ax and Tobias and Marco wait in breath-held silence, but after a second she shakes her head, flapping a hand in dismissal.  “Sorry, it’s not going to come to me.  All I get are little flashes of recognition, never know where they come from.  You probably have the same inflection as my tenth-grade English teacher, something like that.”
    • The conversation moves on, almost like nothing happened.  Tobias is telling Loren about the part-time job he got at the bookstore downtown in an effort to reassure her that they can make this work (“Oh yes, this boy is plenty good at feeding himself,” Marco throws in) and she’s clearly warming to the idea.  So it’s only reluctantly that Ax interrupts to say, “Tobias, it has been one of your hours and fifty-seven of your minutes.”
    • Loren pauses long enough to toss out a casual “So demorph if you’re almost out of time, dear,” before she goes back to saying, “And although Champ’s been a blessing, I don’t think I could say no to an extra pair of hands.  I do want this to work, kiddo.”
    • “Demorph?” Marco’s voice rises into a squeak.
    • Loren draws up, blinking several times in surprise.  In that regard at least she is a polar opposite of Tobias: unrestrainedly expressive, emotions written all over her face.  “Wow, check out the crazy lady,” she says with a laugh.  “Talking nonsense again.  You know, half the memory fragments still floating around in here—” A rueful tap to the side of her head— “don’t even line up to reality.  And sometimes the crazy just slips out.”
    • “None of this ‘crazy’ has to do with blue-furred extraterrestrials, does it?” Tobias asks, tone wary.
    • They are all able to see the moment of shock and revelation spread across her face.
    • “Please,” Ax says, “Place your hand on my arm.  You will feel something strange, and a little frightening.  Tenning.  But I believe it may explain many things.”
    • The next several hours’ worth of conversation prove to be, Ax can tell, very strange and very frustrating for Loren.  Most painful for her are the moments when, for instance, Marco starts to say, “Visser Three’s an andalite-controller—” and Loren finishes with “So he’s still using Alloran’s body, then?” only to admit, after a few seconds of silence, that she has no idea who Alloran is or how she knew that name.  Most painful for Ax is when she accepts the news of Elfangor’s death with a casual nod and a motion for Tobias to keep talking.  Still, at the end of the day, Ax and Marco depart—and leave Tobias with her.
  • It’s not perfect.  Far from.  Their high school’s crop of bullies ends up needing to be fended off one by one with Tobias’s dead-cold predator’s stare before they leave him alone.  He’s ragingly, irrationally jealous of Champ any time Loren displays easy affection with her dog.  Loren loses her temper and shouts at Tobias after he (not knowing any better) shoves some of the furniture out of alignment, and for a minute she sounds so much like her older sister that he finds himself shaking badly enough that even her hasty apology isn’t enough to calm the racing of his heart.  Planning and carrying out an excursion to the hork-bajir valley proves to be a four-day process, dangerously close to being more trouble than it’s worth.  Tobias gets stress headaches from squinting constantly into a distance too far away for human eyes to perceive properly.  He feels suffocatingly, relentlessly glued to the floor, a rat skittering around a maze of two dimensions inside a clumsy half-muffled body with too many limbs and not enough weapons.  He and Rachel have stifling half-conversations in the halls between classes.
    • It’s another Tuesday.  He’s angry and impotent after listening to another desperate account of another desperate mission where he could do nothing. (There was an Anti-Morphing Ray.  Cassie and Rachel destroyed it.  Everyone’s pretty sure that doing so only aroused the yeerks’ suspicion and desire to build a new one.)  Tobias kicks off his bike at the top of the tallest hill in their city.  And then he closes his eyes.  And then he lifts both hands off the handlebars.
    • It feels like flying, almost, for the fifteen seconds that it lasts.  The crash, when it comes, is like slamming into the ground at terminal velocity after a misjudged dive.  For an instant after the initial impact he finds himself scrambling, flapping, trying to get off the ground before some opportunistic golden eagle or rattlesnake can see—and then he realizes, as if for the first time, that he’s never flying again.  He stares dully at the wrist he threw out on instinct to arrest his fall, which is even now swelling out to twice its natural size.  Six weeks, he thinks, oddly detached.  It takes six weeks for bones to heal, when you’re an earthbound little human.  That, and: it could have been his neck, not his wrist, if he’d fallen wrong.  (Could have, could have been.  Could have.  So close.)
    • There’s no use sitting around feeling sorry for himself.  He hobbles painfully to his feet, arm tucked close to his side.  He’s ready to go home.  Ready to face the disappointment and worry that Loren doesn’t know how to hide.  Ready to face the clinic bill they won’t know how to pay.  Ready, now, to keep moving.
  • Later, Tobias will blame it all on the L.A. Dodgers.  That’s how it starts: Marco comes by two or three nights a week to catch the Dodgers game on the radio with Loren (mostly, Tobias suspects, because Marco’s trying to avoid Nora and they’re all in the habit of avoiding Tom, so Tobias’s house is the only good alternative) and often stays long enough to cook them all dinner.  He proves to be good at pulling together meals on a budget, and even better at making Loren laugh with his wry commentary as they lean close to the radio.
    • Then again, maybe it starts with Algebra.  Because Marco’s the one who ends up doing most of the work of catching Tobias up on a year and a half of missed education.  (Jake manages to be even further behind than Tobias, Cassie has the unfortunate tendency to ask Tobias how he’s doing in a voice that makes him want to punch someone, and Rachel is out of the question.)  That’s why they spend so many afternoons together with textbooks spread over a table in the library or Loren’s kitchen, heads bent together, arguing companionably about factorials and integers.  Ax joins them sometimes, and so does Jake, but most often it’s just the two of them.
    • Then again, maybe the sweet tea is to blame.  Because they’re drinking it, both of them sipping from the same sweating-cold jam jar, on the day it happens, and Tobias could swear he tastes the bitter-edged sugar inside Marco’s mouth when it does.
    • Because however it starts, this is how it ends: with Tobias feeling like it’s the most inevitable thing that’s ever happened when, on the trailing edge of an exasperated sigh of laughter, Marco’s mouth comes up and captures Tobias’s in a kiss.  When Tobias opens his mouth, a noise of surprised happiness caught there, and slides his tongue forward against Marco’s.  When Marco pulls him forward—and Tobias recoils.
    • Tobias jerks to his feet so sharply that the jar of tea tips over, spraying a sticky splatter across textbooks and notes before arcing to the floor to smash on the linoleum.  Tobias gasps out a curse, already scrambling for dish towel and broom and mop.  Because Loren hates mess.  No, it’s more than that.  Mess is dangerous, liable to result in falls or injuries, liable to prevent Champ from doing his job if Loren needs help.  Tobias refuses to consider the possibility that he’s thinking about tea to avoid thinking about anything else, especially not after he hears the front door slam and realizes Marco just left without either one of them saying a word about— About—
  • The following afternoon, Ax finds himself participating in one of the more confusing conversations he’s had since first coming to Earth.  Tobias describes, briefly, the experience of engaging in a certain degree of saliva exchange with Marco, clarifies (unnecessarily; Ax has seen plenty of soap operas) that this is a form of human mating display, and then goes on to express concern and even distress about what this could possibly “mean” for himself, Marco, and the future.
    • <It seems to me,> Ax says cautiously, <as though you wish to date Marco.  And as though he has interest in dating you.  Correct?>
    • Tobias, who has been pacing as he talks in a manner that speaks to discomfort with the restrictions of a human body, turns to look at Ax.  “I can’t just—date him.”
    • Ax is pretty sure he’s missed something.  <Why not?>
    • “He’s a boy.”
    • <I know.>
    • “And I’m a boy.”
    • <Yes, you are.>
    • Tobias stares at Ax, clearly trying to find words.  Ax waits.  He knows that many human concepts are mysterious and defy explanation; this appears to be one of them.  “It’s not natural,” Tobias says at last.
    • <I agree, dating is silly and artificial,> Ax says.  <But it does allow one to test potential mates before—>
    • “That’s just it, though.  Two guys together.  As in, together.  That’s…  That’s not okay, man.”
    • Ax turns this sentence over in his mind several times before he finally gives up.  <I don’t understand,> he admits at last.
    • “Two people, same gender.  In a romantic relationship.”  Tobias is clearly trying very hard to make what feels like an important point; Ax feels bad for being so lost.  “Do andalites even have a word for that?”
    • <Ah!> For the first time, Ax feels a glimmer of comprehension.  <This is because you want biological offspring!  It’s true, mates of the same sex, even among andalites, must adopt if they wish to raise young.  The term is iotith, when a couple has no way to produce biological children.>
    • Tobias stares at him, face blank.  “People like that are allowed to raise kids?”
    • Ax is pretty sure they’ve gotten off track from the point about whether or not Tobias should date Marco.  <People like what?>
    • In response, Tobias says several words, most of which Ax has to look up later using an online encyclopedia.  When he does, he will regret having done so.  Tobias, when later questioned, will admit to having learned most of them from his aunt.
    • “…but I’m not,” Tobias says now, before Ax can ask for clarification.  “Me and Rachel, that was real.”  His expression is pleading.  “I know we’re not together anymore, but that wasn’t me faking or being confused.  It wasn’t.  I would’ve married her, once upon a time.  And now…”  He spins around again, as if asking the trees for answers.  “Maybe that’s it.  Maybe I just got confused ‘cause Marco’s so feminine, with all that hair and those lips and those cheekbones and those eyelashes…”  Tobias sighs, still staring into middle distance.  “I mean, have you seen his eyelashes?”
    • <They are very symmetrical,> Ax agrees.  <Aesthetically pleasing, by human standards.  You should buy him flowers.  On The Young and the Restless, interested humans frequently buy one another flowers before courtship rituals.>
    • “Maybe this is because I’m part andalite,” Tobias is saying, mostly to himself.  “You said andalites just kinda pair off, regardless of gender?”
    • <Not all matings have to be pairs,> Ax says.  <But they are driven by emotional compatibility, not by concern with procreation, yes.>
    • “Maybe I’m not gay, then.”  Tobias sounds hopeful.  “And maybe Marco’s just… Marco, and I want to kiss him because…”  He shakes his head.  “I can’t date Marco.  What would people say?”
    • <Nothing,> Ax points out, <if you didn’t tell them.>
    • Tobias stares at him for a few more seconds, and then he laughs.  “You’re nuts, man.  I love you and all, but you’re completely bonkers.  You know that, right?”
  • Still deeply baffled by it all the following day, Ax ends up calling Marco’s house.  “Marco,” he says into the pay phone.  “Arrrc-co.  I spoke with Tobias yesterday, and—”
    • “Oh sweet baby Jesus, he’s having some big gay freak-out all over you, isn’t he?”  Marco sighs loudly.
    • “Um.”  Ax isn’t sure what most of those words mean in context.
    • “Tell him that I figured out I was bisexual—you know how to spell that, ‘bisexual’?—when I was ten years old, and that I can explain the concept to him using small words.  And tell him to call me himself, would you?  One way or another this fine ass isn’t gonna stay single for long, and if it’s not him then it’ll be someone else.”
    • Ax does, in fact, pass the message along.  He’s not sure what happens in the interim, but when he sees them again, Marco and Tobias are holding hands where they stand on Loren’s narrow slice of front lawn together.  They lean close and kiss before they part, leaving Tobias blushing furiously while Marco saunters away, grinning like a loon.
  • Tobias thinks they’re being good about hiding.  Sure, Loren’s probably figured it out by now, given that her hearing is better than most and her house is not that large.  (If she knows she doesn’t seem to mind that Marco’s a boy, which is a whole other concept Tobias still struggles to wrap his mind around.)  But Tobias always makes sure that he and Marco straighten their clothes and hide any hickies before they go anywhere that someone might see them, and any time they’re around anyone other than Ax they don’t touch each other at all.  So far the secret is holding.
    • The truth is, though, that Tobias isn’t sure he could give this up even at the expense of the whole world knowing he’s dating a boy.  It’s the first thing that makes him feel like he fits inside a human skin, the first reason ever to find himself grateful for a human body.  Surely these blunt little teeth serve no other purpose than to suck at the skin of Marco’s collarbone until he’s incoherent with babbling out his pleasure.  Surely five-fingered hands were invented for the sole reason of tangling in the silk of that rich, dark hair.  Surely every nerve in this body came into being just to be touched by Marco’s tongue and fingertips.  Tobias finds other experiences as well, under the covers when he’s alone at night, that lead him to believe every bird on the planet is missing out.
  • He thinks they’re being subtle, until the day Rachel pushes shut his locker door with one manicured nail and says, “Just to be clear… Of all the guys in all the gin joints in all the world, you picked the one who laughs at his own dumb blond jokes while waiting around to be executed by Visser Three?  Seriously, dude?  Marco?”
    • Tobias fights down the tension tightening his shoulders (if he had feathers, they’d be flared out around him) when he realizes that her tone is teasing, her smile unforced and even edged with laughter.  “Ax told you?” he says.
    • “Cassie figured it out all on her own, then she spilled the beans to Jake and me,” Rachel explains.  “You, me, mall, four-thirty.  We shop, we get tacos, you tell me all about how you managed to go this crazy.”
    • “I am not spending all my hard-earned money on designer jeans,” Tobias says.
    • “Good, I’ll buy them for you.  I own too many clothes already, and it’s not like you can keep wearing Jake’s hand-me-downs forever.”
    • Tobias ducks his head, smiling.  “Yeah, well, my options are limited.  Marco and Cassie are tiny people, Ax owns thirteen socks and zero pairs of underwear, and I’m pretty sure I couldn’t pull off any of your mini-skirts with legs like these.”
    • “All the more reason for me to shop for you.  I’m told that buying Cassie clothes she never wears is ‘wasteful,’ so I’m short a victim to use as my personal Barbie doll.”
    • “Rachel…”
    • “It’s almost Christmas?”
    • “It’s October.  And you’re Jewish, and I’m—I’ve recently learned—descended from a combination of agnostic hippies and tree-worshipping wingnuts.”
    • “I won’t tell Ax about the ‘wingnut’ comment if and only if you at the very least agree to try a few things on?”
    • Tobias sighs, but he’s smiling more now, both of them on the edge of laughter.  “It’s a deal.”
  • Not only is it not awkward, but it proves to be a lot of fun to spend the afternoon hanging out.  They do, in fact, gossip about boys (Rachel admits that she has no room to be judging anyone else’s poor taste, and then launches into a description of her half-a-date with some guy named T.T. that leaves Tobias almost crying with laughter), and Rachel goes a long way toward saving him from what she describes as her cousin’s “unforgivable insult to all reasonable standards of taste and color-coordination.”  Tobias never realized they could be friends like this, that it could be so easy.  And yet he-and-Marco (whatever they are) seems to have settled a thousand old uncertainties between him and Rachel.  He loves her still, of course he does, but as a friend.  It’s less intense and proportionately more comfortable than what they had before.
    • Which is why, as they sit in the food court amidst bulging Express bags, he tells her before anyone else.  “I got another offer to join the Sharing yesterday.”  He laughs nervously.  “And this time I said yes.”
    • Rachel chokes on a mouthful of her smoothie, inhaling pureed fruit until she nearly gags up a lung.  “Are you high?” she demands, once she’s regained the powers of speech.
    • Tobias lowers his voice.  “I talked to Mr. Tidwell, and he said that there are plenty of Peace Movement yeerks in need of hosts.  If I did this, it’d be somebody I vetted, somebody I agreed to and negotiated with in advance, so that—”
    • “You can become a voluntary controller?”  Rachel speaks too loudly.  She glances around, but no one seems to have noticed.
    • “The invasion’s not going away,” Tobias says.  “And I can’t hide from it by staying home.  The yeerks have at least twenty percent of our high school already, and they’re using your cousin as the poster boy to recruit the other eighty.”
    • Rachel’s jaw tightens and Tobias changes tacks.  He knew that bringing up Tom was a low blow, and he did it anyway.
    • “Hey, maybe my mom will get lucky and they’ll just shoot her in the head when they do the final sweeps,” he says, falsely bright.  “As for the rest of us…”  He shrugs.  
    • “If you can’t beat them, join them?” Rachel smiles, but there’s no mistaking the anger in her tone.
    • “I’m not waiting around for them to take me.  I’m going to fight back however I can, and right now infiltration is my best option.”
    • “You know Jake still gets nightmares, right?”  Rachel leans in close.  “You were there when he told us.  And that was three days.  You’d be signing up for months.  Years.  You’re worth too much for this, Tobias.  You are so much more to m— to all of us, than some host body.”
    • Tobias is touched by the realization that she’s angry on his behalf, but he doesn’t back down.  “According to Mr. Tidwell, Illim is mostly just along for the ride.  So it wouldn’t be like that.  I’d still be in control.  I’d still be me.”
    • Rachel stares at him for another minute.  Then she drains her smoothie in a long gulp, slams the cup down, and says, “How can I help?”
    • “Really?”
    • “If you’re gonna do this—”  She points a finger at him. “—then you are not doing it alone.  But just so you know?  Jake’s gonna blow a gasket when we tell him, and that’s going to be nothing on how Marco will react.”
    • “You really mean it, though?”  Tobias isn’t even sure why he’s asking.
    • “C’mon.”  Rachel laughs.  “What’s family for?”
Hard Work - Yoongi x Reader


   She buried her head into the couch pillow, soft moonlight from the window creeping over her sleeping body.  Turning she glanced at the clock, three in the morning.  Like most nights she was up late waiting for Yoongi to return from the studio, but the time he came back home seemed to go back further and further, and most nights she’d fall asleep on the couch waiting, and when she’d wake up he’d be gone before she could even make breakfast for him or even say hello.  

     The hour hand was a little past four before she heard the door unlock.  Her tired eyes looked up from her phone which she was blasting music from in order to try to stay awake.  Her eyes locked with Yoongi’s and she gave him a tired smile.  “Hey,”  She walked up to give him a hug but he walked past her mumbling about how tired he was and how he needed to get to bed.  

    “Yoongi,”

     “I said I was going to bed.”  His words stung her like a knife, his tone only made it worse.  

      “I’ll come with you,”

      “Why bother, you’re always mad at me now anyways.”

      She watched him walk into the bedroom slamming the door shut behind him.  When had she been mad at him?  She didn’t remember.  She had every right to be, but she never took it out on him.  It had gotten to a point where she heard more from Yoongi’s bandmates than she did from him and she lived with him.  Weeks of staying up late for him, not going back home to visit your family for him, and what do you get?  Locked out of your own bedroom that you take care of because your boyfriend doesn’t even show his face to you anymore after being with you for two years?  

      Getting up she opened the door to their bedroom the floorboards creaking as she made her way to the bed.  “Can we please talk, I feel like I never see you anymore.”  The memory foam bed sunk slightly as she set on its edge her feet tucked underneath her body as she stared at the wall too afraid to even look at Yoongi.  Usually she’d give him space but at this point she had given him so much space it didn’t even feel like they were in a relationship anymore.

      “I told you I was tired.”

      “And I told you I wanted to talk.” She snapped,

      “Why are you so mad at me all the time, huh?  I do nothing but work to make you happy and how do you repay me by sleeping on the couch cause you’re too mad at me to even stay in the same bed as me?”

        “Me?  Mad at you?” She yelled getting up, “I’ve stayed awake waiting for YOU to come home every night, I’m sorry I can’t live off of three hours of sleep every night to match the schedule of a boyfriend who doesn’t even acknowledge my presence or the hard work I do.”

       “Hard work? HARD WORK?”  His voice echoed off of the walls of their shared apartment and at this point it wouldn’t be surprising if they got a noise complaint, but at this rate she didn’t care, she couldn’t even speak.  Her body shook as his voice got louder, maybe she should have just stayed on the couch.  No, she needed to do this, their relationship depended on it.  “You want to talk about hard work? I work day and night trying to provide a life for you and what do I get?  A girlfriend who does absolutely nothing for me!”  

       Warm tears stained her rosy cheeks as she pushed herself off the bed.  “Fine then.”  The bed bounced back to its normal state as her feet hit the cold hardwood.  “It seems as if I do nothing but hold you back,” Grabbing her bag from the nightstand she began walking, the floor boards hissing and creaking with every step, “Have a nice life Min Yoongi, I’ll come get my stuff while you’re doing your stupid ass hard work tomorrow.”

       Hours of being away led to days of being away days led to weeks, and weeks brought countless ignored text messages and declined calls.  She didn’t get all her stuff, not yet part of her was too scared to go back and face him even if he wasn’t there, the other part didn’t want to admit it was really over.  

       Phone calls poured in from multiple members of BTS over the weeks but they went ignored too.  She didn’t want to face any of them, tell her friends why their friendship got ruined over a relationship they had no part in.  

       It was seven in the morning when her ringtone blasted throughout the small hotel room she was renting out till she could find an apartment she could afford or that wasn’t too big for one person.  

      Her eyes fluttering open she reached out for the phone, smacking multiple places on the small nightstand till she finally grabbed it.  With a tired groan she held the phone up to her ear, forcing herself to sit up her bones popping.             

           “Hello.”  The voice on the phone frantically spoke, and she could barely understand what was being said.  

            “I- I think you have the wrong number,” She mumbled.  “Oh, Yoongi?”  She shook her head at the question if she knew him, “Yeah, not anymo- emergency contact?”  She thought back to that conversation a year ago, when he told her she’d be listed as an emergency contact because she was the most important person in his life,  was that still true?  No he was probably too busy with his ‘hard work’ to even try and change it.  Maybe he didn’t even recognize they were broken up, maybe he just didn’t care.

           “Yes this is,yes,  I’m his emergency contact.”  As much as she hated to admit it her voice was laced with worry, it had been weeks since she had even brought herself to even see a photo of him, which was honestly awful when she opened her phone and saw the photo of them from a year ago.  It was quickly changed to something basic but that didn’t stop her from thinking about it.  “Look if this is a ploy to get me to talk to him I’d prefer not- hold on slow down, hospital?”  She forced herself up, throwing on a coat that was left lying on the ground, “Which one, talk slower.”

         Her heels clicked against the pavement as she walked up to the ramp leading to the hospital doors, as she threw open the doors to the waiting room 6 heads whipped around to look at her.  Their faces held anxiousness and worry as they looked at her, J-Hope getting up and giving her a hug which she awkwardly returned.  Hugs from your best friend are great but not when you just found out that your ex boyfriend is in the hospital for an unknown reason.  “What happened,”  She whispered to them.  

          “I walked into the studio and he was on the ground unconscious, paler than usual. Lips paper white.” Namjoon answered, before Jimin pushed himself into the conversation,

         “The doctors said he overworked himself.  He’s lost so much weight lately, looked so much worse, we knew it was bad we just- we didn’t think he’d get so exhausted as to…” He trailed off, staying silent before speaking again, “end up here?”  Her breath hitched as her eyes trailed across them.  

        “How could you let him do this to himself?”  Her voice was harsh as her eyes narrowed, “If you knew something was wrong why didn’t you stop it.”

        “Why didn’t you?”

         “Have you at least spoken to him is he awake?”  She scanned them again, looking for some sort of answer some sort of, ‘he’s okay now’ from this, but nothing.  It was just awkward silence till Jin spoke up.

         “He doesn’t want anyone to see him but his emergency contact,” He began, “And that’s you…”  

        The hallway smelled of rubbing alcohol and blood as the nurse led her down numerous winding hallways till she ended up left in front of a wooden door.  Knocking on the door two times she reached for the handle after no response.  Pushing it open her eyes fell on the man lying on the bed.  He was as white as a ghost, numerous types of equipment hooked up to his body.  This was him, this was the man she loved, no this was the man she was too stubborn to admit she was still in love with.  

       Walking up to him she brushed the hair back that was covering his eyes, “Yoongi…”  She whispered her hand gently stroking his cheek.  Cold.  He was freezing.  During winter nights he would be her warmth but now his skin was as cold as the ice water he once dumped on her jokingly.

       “I’m sorry,” He mumbled, forcing himself to sit up.  

       “Well at least you admit it.”

       “I’m on a hospital bed suffering and the only thing you can do is gloat you were right?”

       “Wouldn’t you do the same.”

        “I can’t believe I’m in love with you,” He said, forcing her to let out a chuckle.  

        “What happened to you Yoongi.”  She asked staring down at him.  

         “You.”  She stopped stroking his cheek, her eyes focusing on the window.  What did she do, he was the one who made her walk out, couldn’t he understand that.  Was his exhaustion that bad.

        “They said you exhausted yourself, you worked too hard, did that hard work bite you in the ass?”  She sat on the edge of the hospital bed her hands running through his dyed hair.  

      “I wanted to make you happy,”  He told her, reaching for hands forcing them to stop trailing through his hair.  He held onto them tightly as if he was worried she wasn’t actually here or she would leave him.  

     “Well if being happy means me walking out on you then I think you accomplished it.”  She whispered giving his hands a gentle squeeze.  

     “Are you happier without me?”  He inquired.

     “Of course not, you were my everything, you’re still my everything.”  She brought his hands up to her lips giving them a gentle kiss as she stared at him.  To say he looked awful would be an understatement, he was ten times skinnier than he had been since the last time they saw each other.  If he wasn’t eating at home he probably wasn’t eating at work, and now that she thought about it, she cared more about him spending time with her than his health.

      “I wanted to make you happier, I wanted to make you proud of me.”

       “Yoongi…I’m always proud of you how many girls can say their boyfriend is an international superstar.”

       “No I wanted to make you even prouder.”

       “What are you talking about?”  

        “I wanted you to be able to say my boyfriend wrote a song for me, that he was talented enough to make those songs top the charts.  That you could you got the best anniversary present ever.  I wanted to make it perfect, I wanted to make it flawless, something you’d love, something you’d thank me for, and that you’d tell your family back home.  I know they don’t like me much, but I wanted to give you something to be happy about, instead I made you leave, I made you hate me.”


REQUESTED!

Responding to a Creep in Only BTS Lyrics

Starry Night - Harry Styles

A/N: first ever Harry Styles imagine, hope it’s not too bad, feedback would be appreciated. Also it jumps around a bit from scene to scene. If people like it I might do a second part, also if anyone wants more info on the fake dates they go on I could write separate things for how they go (like spin off things) xx

Originally posted by fallenangelsl


 "I wish the sky looked this amazing all of the time" y/n spoke to Harry as they lay on top of her bed sheets looking up at the ceiling. 

Harry had both arms propped under his head, his hair sticking up in all directions. All the lights were off and y/n had hundreds of glow in the dark stars adorning the ceiling and walls of her dorm room. She often found herself laying there when things got too much, turning the lights off and admiring how peaceful it could be.

 "Yeah, it would be amazing to find somewhere clear enough to actually see them. Bloody light pollution" Harry spoke making her turn her face to look at him and chuckle.

 Harry and y/n had been best friends for years. From the first day they met; when Harry sat down next to her in science class, to the day they went to the same university. 

 "I forgot to tell you earlier" harry spoke suddenly perking up. He sat up slightly on his side to face her. “But you know that girl I was telling you about the other day”

 "Yeah" she encourage him now looking straight at him.

 "She smiled at me today" Harry said smiling happily at the thought, replaying it back in his mind again and again.

 "That’s great! She knows you exists now!“ Y/n spoke excited for him. Harry seemed to really like this girl, always talking about her even though he had never spoken to him before, y/n just wanted him to be happy. He did deserve it after all. 

She was only a little worried for him. This girl - Carla ran with a different crowd than Harry and Y/n. She was a cheerleader, popular and always surrounded by a large group of friends. 

 Whereas Harry and y/n couldn’t be more of the opposite, their group just consisted of the two of them. But they liked it that way. University didn’t have specific cliques. No one really knew anyone except for those who were cheerleaders or played on sports teams. 

 "Yeah, I couldn’t stop thinking about it for the rest of the lecture” he laughed at himself “pathetic right?“ 

 "It’s kinda sweet” she replied smiling although she couldn’t fully see him in the dark, she knew he would be blushing. 

 "I can dream” he spoke sadly. 

 "Hey..“ She said softly, sensing the sadness on his voice. “Don’t say that, I know for sure your dreams will come true”.

 "Thanks” he smiled smally, not believing her, but he knew she wouldn’t let it go if he disagreed. 

 Y/n was the best person he knew. She had the kindest heart, there wasn’t a word that came out of her mouth that was bad. Sometimes he worried about her. She seemed so full of hope for the world- he was worried that one day she would see the world for what it truly was. He never wanted that day to happen.

 "I’m not her type" harry spoke “I have absolutely no experience of anything like that!“ 

 "That doesn’t matter” she spoke.

“I’m never going to make the first move when I’ve never asked someone on a date before or even been on one!” Harry exclaimed, sighing at his lack of experience and understanding.

 "I believe you can if you really want to” y/n spoke in concern at the state he was getting himself into. He had fully sat up, a hand running through his hair in stress.

“w-why don’t you teach me?” Harry spoke his hand stopping. He looked at y/n eyes pleading with her. 

 "What do you mean?“ She asked hesitantly, shocked at the thought. Her face had frozen, the thought of going on a date with Harry- even if it was just a pretend one, scared her to bits.

 She didn’t think she could handle that. Going on dates with him but it all being an act. It would hurt her heart beyond repair knowing its not real.

 "Don’t be silly” she laughed playing it off “you don’t need my help, you can do it yourself Harry" 

 "Please y/n, I’m begging you, it will make me feel more comfortable and it will build up my confidence, please” harry begged desperately. She sighed deeply, closing her eyes momentarily. 

 "Okay okay, fine" she spoke faking a laugh, she always gave in so easily to him.

 "Thank you so much" he sighed collapsing back on her bed to look up at the ceiling. “So where would you want to go on the first date?“ 

 "That’s your job to decide” she spoke glancing at him amused.

 "This is why I need your help, help to decide where I would take her once I ask her out” he spoke.

“Fine, um…” She looked up at the glowing stars in her room thinking if her ideal first date. Truth is she had never been on dates to places she would want to go. In fact she had never been on a successful date, they all ended in a somewhat disaster. “We could go see real stars, find somewhere we can actually see them”

 "How cliche" harry chuckled. 

 "Isn’t that what dates are meant to be?“ She said raising an eyebrow.

 ————————————————————————————————

 "Holy shit, it’s … Beautiful” harry spoke softly.

 It was the first fake date they had been on and they were sitting on the bonnet of Harry’s car, parked at the highest point in the city giving a view of all the houses and roads below; a shared blanket around their shoulders while they looked up at the pitch black sky.

 They were further away from the city out here meaning they could see the silvery stars littered across the night sky.

 Y/n admired how it looked like scattered fairy dust; it was magical. She turned to admire Harry watching the sky in amazement, his mouth parted in wonder. She traced her eyes across his jaw line, imagining what it would be like it this was a real date. Would she be allowed to trace her fingers across his cheek and down to his lips before kissing him softly?

 She mentally shook herself out of her trance, knowing the more she thought about if the more it would hurt. This wasn’t a real date, this was her helping a friend gain experience to take some one else; someone who was not her out.

 "Do you think she will like this?“ Harry asked suddenly turning to look at her.

 Y/n quickly looked up so she wouldn’t be caught staring. 

 "I think she’d be silly not to” she smiled softly at him, meeting his eyes.

 —————————————————————————————————–  The fake dates continued over the weeks. Harry and y/n had covered a lot if their city; bowling; drive in cinema; laser tagging; fancy dinners at fancy restaurants; shitty dinners at shitty diners. 

Tonight they were going to the beach. A picnic next to the sea.

 They had a red tartan blanket laid on the sand, cans of cider in their hands while they talked about everything. Maybe they had drunk a little more than they planned but they were having fun, that’s all that mattered.

 "Let’s go skinny dipping!“ Harry said energetically, standing up quickly and nearly staggering over. Y/n drunkenly laughed at him. 

 "It’s too cold harry! You’ll get hypothermia or something!” She giggled standing up to try and stop him. But harry had pulled his top off, working on his trousers.

 "Harry..“ She spoke as her voice caught in her throat. She sudden felt sober, taking In every detail of her best friend, she admired his beauty until he started running towards the sea.

 "Come on!” He shouted while running straight into the water. 

 "Harry!“ She shouted over at him ” oh fuck" she called as she watched him fall over into the sea. She ran after him, throwing her top off on the way, leaving behind a trail of clothes. 

 The water was freezing and she let out a small scream as she swam her way over to harry who was now standing up, admiring the reflection of the moon in the water.

 "Jesus Christ Harry" she spoke as she reached him, her hand touching his arm gently, gaining his attention. He looked at her smiling softly as she shivered.

 "You look beautiful you know" he spoke. Y/n let out a shocked laugh.

 "Shut up" she spoke looking away almost shyly. 

 "Honestly..“ He spoke, his voice soft.

 "Harry..” She whispered as his hand cupped her cheek. His thumb tracing over her bottom lip, eyes flicking down to them. He leaned forward, brushing their lips together, she leaned in slightly which was all harry needed to press his lips more firmly to hers. His hands found their way to her waist pulling his flush against him while the water from the sea hit their bare skin.

 "We should probably go" she whispered when they pulled away. She was met with an intense stare from Harry and he watched her walk out of the sea, picking her trail of clothes up as she went. He followed after her doing the same.

 ——————————————————————————————————–

  They hasn’t spoken about that night since. 

 Harry had just dumped his books onto the lunch table y/n was sitting at, making her jump. She looked up greeting him before hurriedly writing in her text book. They sat in silence for a bit before y/n went to speak. 

 "I was thinking about going to prom" she said casually only soaring a quick glance at Harry before looking back to her work.

 "You? At prom" he laughed stopping his work and looking at her amused.

 "Yeah" she spoke. She was building up the courage to ask him to go with her. “I was thinking-”

 "I’m going to ask Carla Tomorrow" he spoke not meaning to interrupt her “I’m going to walk straight up to her and ask” he had a new found confidence within.

 "Oh… that’s great Harry!“ She spoke trying to sound enthusiastic.

 "So you’re being serious about going?” He asked her still amused at the thought, leaning back in his chair to look at her.

 "We’ll- probably not, I don’t know “ she mumbled looking interested in her work.

 "I could set you up with someone?” He said.

 "Nah, that’s alright.“ She spoke “I’ll probably do something else”

 ——————————————————————————————————

  “I did it!” Harry announced loudly as y/n walked over to Harry’s car to get a lift home.

 "Done what?“

 "I asked Carla, and she said yes!” He spoke proudly. 

 "Oh wow, that’s-harry that’s great!“ She spoke trying not to let any emotions slide. 

 "I’m taking her on a date tomorrow” he said.

“Where to?” Y/n asked curiously. 

 "Like the first fake date we went on, to see the stars” he said excitedly not knowing or realizing how much it hurt her to hear him say.  

She knew it was bound to happen one day, but she didn’t think it would be so soon; she thought she still had time, that things between her and Harry were progressing into more than friends. 

But y/n only had herself to blame. Harry had made it clear from the start that the end goal was not her.

—————————————————————————————————-  

Harry was extremely nervous. His hands were sweating and he was rubbing them against his trousers while trying to keep his focus on driving. He could see the sweat on the steering wheel from the tips of his fingers. 

Carla was sat in the passenger seat making small conversation. But Harry was too nervous to hear what she was actually saying. 

What if this date was a disaster and she told all her friends and then he would never have the chance to date some one again, he would have to drop out of uni in humiliation. 

Pulling up to the same spot y/n had showed him, they both stepped out of his car, sitting themselves on the bonnet to look over the city.

“this is amazing Harry, I never knew it existed! how did you find this place?” she asked. 

Harry’s mind flickered to y/n. 

“my friend showed it me once” he said with a small smile as he pictured the excitement on y/n’s face when she first brought Harry here. His thoughts moved on to the image of him and y/n laying on her bed and looking up at the glow in the dark stars on her ceiling. 

“what? that girl ’you’re always with around uni?”

“yeah, y/n. She’s my best friend” he spoke smiling. 

—————————————————————————————————

“she loved it!” Harry spoke as soon as y/n stepped into his car. 

“that’s great” she spoke not really interested. She had about 3 hours sleep and couldn’t take the energy in Harry’s voice, it was too early.

“someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed today!” he said shooting her a charming smile as he pulled out of the car park.

The ride was silent as y/n leaned against the window ready to fall asleep.

“she invited us to sit with her and her friends today” Harry spoke once he parked on the campus and turned the engine off. 

“what do you mean us?” y/n frowned. 

“she invited you too” he spoke as if obvious. 

“why would she do that she doesn’t know who I am”

“she asked about you last night” Harry said.

“oh”

—————————————————————————————————–

“im taking her on the beach date today” Harry spoke as soon as he sat down next to y/n once he spotted her on the campus.

y/n looked up not hearing him sat down next to her.

“oh, that will be nice” she spoke turning back to her book.

Harry hadn’t seen much of y/n the past few weeks. She had suddenly become more interested in getting her work done, spending evenings in the library or reading. He missed her.

“what’s up?” he asked nudging her playfully but he got no response. “y/n?”

“yeah?” 

“what’s up and don’t avoid my question” he spoke concerned. 

“just tired” she mumbled straining a smile. “anyway, tell me about what you have planned then? she said putting her book down and pretending to be interested now to get him off her back. “don’t tell me you’re going to go skinny dipping” she chuckled at the memory. 

“well, i’m not against it if she’s not” Harry smirked suggestively, laughing. Y/n fake laughed along. 

“well i’m sure you will have a great time” she spoke looking at him, tracing her eyes over his face and seeing his genuine smile. 

————————————————————————————————–

Harry was having a moment of deja vu. Here he was sitting on a red picnic blanket on the sand, chatting about anything and everything with a girl. But the only difference was that it wasn’t y/n sat next to him. 

Instead it was the girl of his dreams. Or so he thought. 

He couldn’t help but compare the two girls. 

He knew he shouldn’t. But he couldn’t help it. He just didn’t seem to have as much fun on these real dates than he did with y/n. 

He found himself uninterested in the topics Carla spoke about. He didn’t care about her friends who were sleeping with her other friends. Harry didn’t like gossip and that’s one of the reasons him and y/n got on so well. 

Harry couldn’t help but feel like maybe he had fucked up somewhere along the line. 

The girl in front of him now just wasn’t the girl for him. 

He couldn’t imagine her standing in the sea just several meters away from where they sat. He couldn’t imagine pressing his lips against hers while the water surrounded them. It was wrong. He shouldn’t have even brought her here in the first place. 

In fact he shouldn’t have even asked her out.

“harry?” Carla spoke “Harry?”

Her voice brought him out of his train of thought.

“yeah?”

“are you even listening to me?” she spoke a tone of annoyance in her voice. 

“sorry, you were saying?” he said now turning to face her to pay attention. 

“forget it. Why don’t you just take me home?” she spoke

“w-what?” Harry asked surprised

“oh come on. you know this isn’t working.” Carla spoke. “honestly, it’s okay. I see the way you look at her” 

“who?” 

“your so-called best friend” she spoke

“what do you mean?” Harry said panicked. 

“it’s okay to fall in love with your best friend you know” Carla spoke, her voice soft. 

“i’m not in love with y/n” Harry spoke uncertainly making Carla laugh. 

“friendship can be an excuse Harry” she spoke. “and you don’t sound too certain about that”

Harry had gone silent. 

“come on” she laughed standing up “lets go” 

“I - shit” Harry spoke running his hand through his hair. 

“I can’t believe it took you this long to figure it out” Carla laughed at the brown haired boy. At the end of the day she understood that you never expect to fall in love with the people you do, but when you know; you know. You would be silly to let anyone or anything stand in your way of love.

one more time before i fall

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader
Rating: T
Words: 1833
Summary: This weird tension between you and Dean had to come to a head sometime, and what better time than when you’re trapped in the Impala with him for a long trip? 
Author’s Note: Hi. This  drabble is brought to you by Jensen Ackles’ jaw line.

The last thing you remember before getting knocked over the head was calling Sam and Dean for help. You knew they would kick your ass for trying to take on this hunt by yourself, but you needed some space, and needed to blow off some steam.

You crack one eyelid open, squinting in the bright sunlight and register the low hum of the Impala. Cool, you think, had to get rescued like some teenager. You must make a noise as you struggle to sit up right, because Dean’s head turns to face you. 

He doesn’t look happy. “Stop trying to move.” He says. “You have a concussion.” 

“Why’d you let me sleep, then?” You ask, figuring if he’s already mad at you, you might as well really go for gold, here. 

“You were unconscious when I found you, smartass. What the hell were you thinking?” The muscle on the side of his jaw jumps.

“I was thinking there was a ghoul eating people kind of close to where we live, so I should probably kill it.” 

Dean grinds his teeth together, looking like he’s trying really hard not to say something he’ll regret. “That was stupid.” He says calmly. “You should have told us. We would have gone with you.” 

“Needed some air.” You say quietly, and he makes a incredulous face.

“You serious? What - are we smothering you? In the bunker?” He looks back at the road, eyes dark. 

“I just– I’m not used to…” You trail off, “I’m not used to having people around all the time. I needed to get away for a bit.” 

Not totally a lie. 

You aren’t used to having people around all the time; much more comfortable to have your own space and do things on your own. It’s not what’s been bothering you so much, though. You can feel yourself starting to develop feelings for Dean and you know if you let yourself, you’ll be head over heels for the guy. It’s better to get away now, before you make things awkward. Besides that, you can’t help feeling that you’re waiting for the other shoe to drop.

Do you really get to have this? Friends who care about you? A kick ass place to live? It seems impossible that this could last.

Dean shakes his head. “Whatever. Look, I’m not going to tell you what to do. You’re a grown ass woman. But that was dumb.” 

You roll your eyes, turning to watch the scenery out the window. It’s going to be a long trip.

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Ugh P.8 [Peter Parker] [Soulmate AU]

Originally posted by yourcoffeeguru


Pairing: Peter Parker x Female!Reader

Warnings: Cursing, more angst, mentions of pain etc

A/N: This still feels a little rushed to me, but also not?? I dunno. If I forgot to tag you, pls shoot me an ask or a msg! I lose track of things, esp my taglist ;-; Also- I swear I love you guys <3

Part 7Masterlist


It took everything in him to be able to say those words to you. He wanted to let you say whatever it was you had to say, even though he was sure he didn’t want to hear it. He wanted to say he was strong enough to just be friends with you- to get to know you and learn you but not be able to love you. It would be a lie, but he didn’t have to tell you that. Still, it should be better this way, shouldn’t it? He could keep you safe from a distance. No one would suspect that you knew he was Queens hero. He also wouldn’t have to know you- so it wouldn’t hurt so much, right? He’d be fine right?

Keep reading

Lab Partners

Summary: Peter is bad at keeping secrets from his new physics partner. (Gif credit goes to @peterparkrers)


Walking into the first day of second semester physics class, you sat down in an empty seat next to a boy with wavy, reddish hair. He wore a plaid button-up shirt beneath a blue sweater, dark gray khakis, and worn in New Balance sneakers. His foot tapped anxiously on the ground as he looked at you. 

“Hi, I’m Peter,” he said, offering his hand. “Peter Parker.” 

Keep reading

The Victoria’s Secret Show

The twenty sixth installment of The Live On Tour Series:


Since Milan,Y/N and Harry’s friendship has changed a bit,seeing as they never used to kiss..But now they do.Everything else is the same though,they still cuddle,they still hug,they still have movie nights,they still send each other jokes.

It’s just the kissing that’s an addition, an addition that they both enjoy.

Keep reading

Maybe This Will Show You...(Billy Hargrove prompt)

Originally posted by bigbadroman

Request: Can I have an imagine with Billy with #74 #88 #150 and #146. Billy doesn’t think that anyone can love someone like him so you show up at his house late at night to prove to him that you love him, because earlier you and him had a fight in school about it.

Prompt(s):
74) “make me”
88) “why are you here?”
146) “are you too blind to see that I care?”
150) “I don’t care what you did, everyone deserves a happy ending, including you”

Warning(s): bad words, sad, fluff


Billy Hargrove. That was the name (Y/N) couldn’t stop thinking about. Sure, she shouldn’t even be associated with a guy like him because of his actions, but she couldn’t help it.

(Y/N) was Billy’s girlfriend, they had been dating only for a few months. Whenever she was with him, she knew how to calm him down and he never dared to get angry or lash out at her.

It was simple. Billy loves (Y/N). He didn’t think he would love anyone, only because he doesn’t think it was possible for someone to truly love a person like him.

His simple thought, is what caused him and (Y/N) to fight at school as of right now.

“(Y/N), we are done” Billy simply stated as he watched the girl put her things in her locker. She froze, “Done? Why? Did I do something?” She interrogated.

Billy shook his head, “That’s exactly the thing, you didn’t do anything. It’s all on me, alright?”.

Billy turned to leave but (Y/N) wasn’t going to let that happen. He felt her pull on his arm and he looked at her.

“You’re not going anywhere till you explain. Don’t lie, I know when you lie. Don’t give me bullshit answers either” (Y/N) spoke.

Billy clenched his jaw knowing he can’t get out of this situation, “Fine! You wanna know? I love you, but I don’t know why you are with me. I don’t understand how anyone would be okay with being with me. For fucks sake (Y/N), no one will ever love me. Not even you. I’m not worthy of being loved and if I am, I definitely don’t deserve it. Couple months ago, I fucking tried to run Max’s friends over, I beat Harrington to a pulp. Why? Because I’m a grade A asshole and that’s just who I am, therefore no one can love me for those things”.

(Y/N)’s face softened, “Billy, don’t say that. I love you! I really do”.

“See, it’s hard to believe a girl like you, can love a guy like me” Billy argued. His eyes averted towards Max, who was walking out the building towards the car.

“I gotta go” was all Billy said and he walked away leaving (Y/N) to think of what she could possibly do to make him believe that she truly does love him.


Later that day at 7, (Y/N) left her house and drove over to Billy’s. She got out the car and rang the doorbell, waiting for someone to open the door.

The door opened and revealed Max. “(Y/N)? What are you doing here?” The little red headed girl asked.

“Hey Max. Can I talk to Billy?” She questioned.

“Max! Who the fuck are you talking to? Tell them to go away and-” A voice demanded but was cut off.

(Y/N) looked up to see Billy. “Max, go do whatever you were doing” He told the girl and she rolled her eyes and walked away.

Billy stepped out of the house and onto the porch. “Why are you here?” He asked while taking out a cigarette from the pack and lighting it.

“I’m here because I want to talk to you” (Y/N) answered.

“Yeah, well don’t waste your time, you should go” Billy responded, blowing out a puff of smoke.

(Y/N) put her hands on her hips, “Make me” She challenged.

“I’m not gonna make you do shit. You wanna talk to me? Talk” He spoke, acting like he didn’t care one bit but he did.

Are you too blind to see that I care? That’s why I really am here, because I care. That whole number you said to me, made my heart break. You may be an asshole, but you’re my asshole. Don’t you dare think for one minute that no one can ever love you. I love you! God dammit Billy! I fucking love you with all my heart. And you know what? I don’t care what you did, everyone deserves a happy ending, including you”. (Y/N) ranted, tears filling her eyes.

“If that didn’t show you that someone can love you, then maybe this will show you” She added.

Billy was confused up until (Y/N) reached over and cupped his face and smashed her lips against his. Billy kissed her back immediately.

The kiss was very different from the typical yet many ones that they have shared before. This kiss was passionate and gentle, yet it was needy. (Y/N) kept kissing Billy like her life depended on it, because it truly did. She didn’t want to lose him. 

Just from the kiss, Billy knew that he was worth being loved by someone. Not just by someone, more specifically by (Y/N) (L/N). The one girl that he has told himself many times, that he loved her and now he truly knew that she loved him and made him believe that others can love him too.

Living Two Lives Chapter 1

Summary: Y/n Winchester is Sam’s and Dean’s younger half-sister who is an agent of NCIS. She hasn’t seen her brothers in three years; until one day when her brothers find her by the woods, on a case.  Will y/n be able to hide the truth about her past from her boss, Leroy Jethro Gibbs; or will the lies catch up to her?

Warnings: language, mentions of abuse, some violence

No pairings in this Chapter

Word Count: 1,765

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