i think about this picture at least five times a day

procraesthetics  asked:

I wonder what would happen if Dudley grew up in the wizarding world but still as a muggle? like kind of reverse AU where his parents are dead and he has to go to Lily for whatever reason? do you think he would become bitter like Petunia about magic?

Lily remembered her sister, how there had been a time she was curious and delighted about magic, before it slowly sank in that she could look and not touch.

The last thing Petunia had said to Lily before she died was a chilly goodbye, ending a holiday dinner where they’d had a shrieking row in the entryway. Petunia had said freak and Lily had hissed better than this, better than this being my whole fucking world, Tune, do you even see yourself, are you happy–

And now here was Dudley Vernon Dursley fussing himself to sleep as Lily walked the halls of the Godric’s Hollow house. His tiny soft hands with their tiny soft fingernails curled under her chin, the same way Harry always had.

She passed James, who was gently bouncing his way up the hall the opposite way. “I think he’s asleep,” James mouthed over Harry’s tousled head. His hair was the same mess, bent down to peer at his sleeping son.

Lily stopped where she stood, her nephew heavy on her chest, her husband smiling, her sister buried. “James,” she said. “How are we going to do this?”

“Oh,” he said. “Hey. Don’t you cry, you’ll start them off– unless you need to cry, I mean, you go ahead, hey, sweetheart, hey, it’s alright, you just let it out.” He stepped forward, shifting Harry gently to his other shoulder, and pressed his forehead to hers. “We tuck them in, okay, that’s what we do next. Then we go to our own bed, okay, and go to sleep, and when we wake up it’ll be a new day.”

“A new day,” she said. “Another day– James, that’s the– I’m so tired.”

“So let’s sleep. It’ll look better in the morning,” he said. “And if it doesn’t look better this morning, it’ll look better in the next one.”

“You promise?”

“Better than that. I’ll show you. Every day,” he said and kissed her cold forehead.

Dudley had not shown up on the Potters’ doorstep with the milk bottles. Lily had gotten a phone call from the landline she still had installed in Godric’s Hollow, about an accident, and she had gone down to the Muggle police station to identify the bodies.

The cupboard under the stairs was filled with spiders, broomsticks, and the sewing machine Lily’s mother had given her when she married James– that’s all. Dudley slept downstairs. Uncle Remus taught Dudley and Harry to knock out coded messages through the wall their rooms shared.

In the backyard, beside a rickety porch and an ambitious hedge, James taught them to fly– first on little tot brooms where their toes brushed the grass the whole time, then out of the barrels of practice brooms James used for lessons and coaching Little League Quidditch.

When the boys turned ten, five weeks apart, they both got shiny new Nimbuses on Dudley’s birthday (which came first), and a set of enchanted Quidditch balls on Harry’s, to share. The Bludgers were enchanted to be very kind but Dudley spent long afternoons whacking them far afield while Harry chased the Snitch at his back.

Harry had a scar on his forehead, like a jagged bit of lightning. Dudley had no scars– the car crash that had killed his parents hadn’t touched him where he sat strapped into a car seat in the back, chewing on a stuffed dinosaur toy.

Lily did not believe in lying to the children. She was bare years off being a child herself, and spare moments on the far side of a war. When Dudley asked about his parents, she told him there had been an accident. She pulled pictures off the shelf and wrote Petunia’s old university friends for more.

Photographs came by mailman, the images still and unnatural to Dudley’s eye. Every day he’d gone out to play, for years, he’d been waving at the picture near the back door of his aunt and uncle on their wedding day, and they waved back every time.

“She was very clever,” Lily said. “Your mom liked to know everything.”

“And my dad?”

“Vernon liked… cars?” James offered. “That’s the word, right, Lily?”

“I didn’t know him very well,” Lily said. “He liked drills, I think; he worked for a firm that made them, and he talked about that a lot.”

Dudley brushed his thumbs over the dull edges of the photos. When Lily went off to Auror headquarters the next morning for work, James bundled the boys up and took them on an impromptu invisible tour of Grunnings Drill Manufacturing Inc.

They tiptoed down halls and past water coolers and ringing fellytones. They held hands under the Cloak as they dodged around the machines on the manufacturing floor, thumping and pounding and whirring away loudly enough that Harry and Dudley could whisper to each other under the noise. An elevator took them all the way up to the top floor. Harry whistled cheerily and eerily along with the elevator music while the Muggles slowly edged toward the doors and pressed floor buttons lower than they’d originally wanted.

There were boxes and cabinets and folders and desks and staticky monitor screens full of numbers strewn in endless grids. “Merlin’s knuckles,” said Harry, who was seven and a half and rather proud of this expletive. “People can look at this all day, their whole lives, and not die?”

“Work is hard work,” said James.

“At least mum gets to curse things.”

“But my dad liked it?” Dudley said, peering at a white board that was bleeding enthusiastic marker. “There’s a lot of things, here. Maybe he liked knowing things, too.”

When the boys asked about the scar on Harry’s forehead, Lily and James looked at each other. “You know how sometimes we sit with Uncle Remus and talk about a war?” James said. “Or with Ms. Amelia or Mr. Mundungus.”

“Mr. Mundungus is kinda smelly,” Harry said helpfully.

“It’s not nice to say so though,” said James, and Lily made a face.

“Are we raising them to be nice?” Lily said.

“I’m trying,” said James.

“You talk about a war,” said Harry and shrugged. Dudley nodded.

“There was a very bad man, in those days,” said James.

“Voldemort,” said Lily, and James made a face.

“He was so scary a lot of people don’t like to say his name, even now,” said James. “And he was coming after us because we had been fighting against him, in the war. He came to the house and he tried to hurt you, Harry. But it didn’t work. It hurt him instead, and gave you that scar.”

“Is he going to come back?” said Dudley, who was paler than his normal pink.

“No one’s heard of him since then,” said Lily.

“Where were you?” said Harry, because all his life they had been right there.

“Oh,” said Lily, but her throat closed up.

“We were at Dudley’s mum and dad’s funeral,” said James. “Our friend– our friend Sirius was watching you two. The bad man, he came to the house. He. Well. I.”

“Sirius died,” said Lily, one hand squeezing James’s knee and the other reaching down to brush hair off Dudley’s forehead. “You lived, Harry, and Voldemort vanished. And that’s why sometimes people stare in the streets, baby.” James tweaked Harry’s collar absently.

Two days after they had buried Lily’s sister, the Potters had stood together in the first chills of November and buried James’s brother.

Sirius had been burned off the Black family tree years before. Lily and James had talked to his cousin Andromeda, to Remus, and then they had laid him to rest in the Potter family plot. At the wake, they’d told old jokes about squirrel breath, shedding, and man’s best friend. Remus had fallen asleep on their couch and stayed for a month.

It took a two hour row with HR for Lily to get two passes to the Ministry’s Bring Your Kid To Work Day.

“He’s a Muggle.”

“He’s not,” Lily snapped. “He’s family.”

She had to get permission, sign a million forms, and she also had to take the boys in early so that Dudley could get smothered in the spells that would keep the Anti-Muggle wards around the Ministry from activating on him. “If a Muggle stumbles in somehow, they just see a funny-smelling supply cabinet and turn back around,” Lily told Dudley. He nodded and dragged Harry off by the wrist to go look at the fountain.

The windows were pouring sunlight into the underground room– the maintenance workers had just gotten a win on their contract negotiations and had banished the grimy rain-spattered windows of the previous weeks. The light hit the falling water, the golden statues, and the small excitable crowd of Ministry dependents who were gathering in the atrium. Dudley was fishing about in the fountain for Knuts to toss back out again, elbow-deep, and Harry was laughing and coming up with weird wishes to make on them.

Lily hadn’t said son. She’d said family, and that was true enough, wasn’t it? She didn’t say son– she had a son, and she had a nephew, a ward, another child who came to her after nightmares and scraped knees. It was not less, it was just words.

Lily worried about stealing more things from Petunia. Tuney had shrieked at her, in ladies’ restrooms and suburban foyers, had hissed at her in grocery store aisles and family dinners, because Lily got everything. And now Lily had her son.

Lily could just imagine it– could just see Petunia’s face twisting and chin stabbing at the air. You could have anything, and you took my son– my son!

“You left him to me,” Lily whispered, but that wasn’t quite right. “You left,” she whispered, and that wasn’t quite right either, so she strode off toward the fountain to ask the boys if they wanted to go see the Auror spellwork ranges. Dudley’s sodden shirt sleeves dripped all over the Ministry floors. Harry’s hair fell down into his eyes and they both grinned bright enough to rival the spelled sunlight.

Keep Reading (Ao3)

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

Can you please do BTS as dads?

(this is based on their sun signs)

Jin 

  • the fun dad
  • looks like he hasn’t aged since he was 20
  • probably the least strict
  • because sagittariuses value freedom and independence 
  • they want their children to be their own people
  • super chill
  • doesn’t believe in strict punishment
  • cooks better than their mom
  • loves adventures
  • takes his kids camping, to amusement parks, anywhere they want
  • d a d j o k e s
  • always bright and sunny and cheers them up his humor
  • or makes them cringe
  • “dad im hungry” “hi hungry im dad”
  • [windshield wiper laugh]
  • instills strong morals and values in his kids

Originally posted by yoongiski

Yoongi

  • the affectionate dad
  • pisces are very compassionate, patient, and understanding
  • so he’d be able to handle kids and their moodiness really well
  • the person they always go to for comfort and advice
  • loves spending time with his kids
  • always makes them feel loved and appreciated
  • encourages their creativity
  • shares his love of music with them
  • “kiddos u know back in the day i was kinda a big deal. they called me suga”
  • “dad we literally live right next door to the bangtan uncles”
  • makes his kids hold each other’s hands when they start arguing
  • cries on the first day of kindergarten
  • the type to take pics and make scrapbooks and record videos to keep memories
  • and cry proud-father-tears when rewatching them

Originally posted by shootingfingerhearts

Hoseok 

  • the cool dad
  • another one that’s not strict
  • encourages his kids to be unique and individual
  • wants them to have a high self esteem and not follow the crowd
  • would raise really artsy kids who have a unique fashion sense
  • lowkey would be fine with them breaking some rules
  • high fives them when they stand up to mean teachers or bullies
  • pranks his kids
  • acts more like their friend 
  • so so supportive
  • shows up to every sports game or performance and screams louder than all other parents

Originally posted by btsreactionsandgifs

Namjoon

  • the overprotective dad
  • his little ones would probably inherit his god of destruction gene
  • so you’d come home one day and he’s wrapping them in bubble wrap
  • puts all his energy into raising his kids
  • lowkey strict
  • but only because he wants to see them shine 
  • the house runs so well
  • they go to bed at exactly the same time every day
  • sets a curfew
  • has those “my child is an honor roll student” stickers on his car
  • brags to other parents about how gifted they are
  • embarrasses them in public
  • his kids look up to him a lot

Originally posted by yayaruizc

Jimin 

  • the hot dad
  • teachers flirt with him during pta meetings
  • impresses their classmates by picking them up in his nice car
  • all his daughter’s friends have a crush on him
  • his kids will be super popular 
  • always fair
  • can defuse fights between them like a pro
  • creates a calm, peaceful, and beautiful home
  • his kids are always the best dressed
  • has a really good relationship with their mom and takes her out on dates every weekend
  • a good listener
  • is like their friend and has a really tight bond with them

Originally posted by jiminboi

Taehyung 

  • the rich dad
  • his family will live in the nicest biggest house
  • works hard to make sure they’re financially secure
  • always away on some business trip
  • but comes home with so many gifts
  • puts his kids in the best private school
  • spoils them
  • but still keeps them down to earth
  • his kids have good manners from a young age
  • teaches them the importance of hard work and discipline
  • old fashioned
  • the type to say “i’m your father, listen to me” all the time
  • loves taking his family on fun extravagant vacations every summer
  • super proud of every little thing his kids accomplish
  • keeps pictures of them in his (gucci) wallet

Originally posted by jinmini

Jungkook

  • the organized dad
  • has his shit together
  • super reliable and dependable
  • keeps everything neat and tidy
  • helps the mom with cooking and chores
  • color coordinates and name tags all their toys and clothes
  • makes them cute lunch boxes with supportive messages every day
  • sings them to sleep
  • tries to be strict but fails
  • “son it’s time to study please get off the computer. wait…is that overwatch? ….okay one more round if i can join”
  • a bit of a worry wart
  • always thinking about their well being and safety
  • when they get sick he flips out
  • “y/n according to webmd they’re dying. i’ve failed as a father. this is it.”
  • “jungkook pls calm down it’s just a cold”
  • puts his little ones in sports or dancing and takes them to practice
  • supports the heck out of them

Originally posted by jiminboi

The Minyard-Josten Pros’ Coming Out

Or, That Time Andrew Got Pissed And Posted The Video That Broke The Internet

  • Years down the line, our boys are both pros and Neil is getting annoyed at all the press conferences that get derailed by either the Josten-Minyard rivalry or whether he is or isn’t in a committed relationship as some gossip magazines have been implying
  • he’s not allowed to deal with it, though
    • he’s actually not allowed to say anything to the press that his coach and PR team haven’t approved of
    • he calls it bullshit
    • he only ever antagonized a dangerous yakuza criminal once
    • people really can’t let anything go, in this sport

Keep reading

I want an episode where Gabriel tries to Akumatize Marinette.

As in: “on purpose”. He did it to Nino, he did it to Simon, he did it to Santa, he can do it to anyone.

And so Gabriel meets Marinette, this passionate kid who really loves fashion, pastel pink, and banana-haired young models, as she is visiting Adrien, and he decides to ruin her day, because it should be about as easy as stealing jewelry from teenagers candy from a baby.

Gabriel has mastered ‘unpleasant jerk’, practically has a PHD in it. It’s second nature. When you look up 'ass’ in the dictionary, you find his picture next to a stock photo of a donkey. So he tunes it up to 'extreme ass’, aka ‘his normal’, and destroys Marinette’s hopes and dreams by, I don’t know, telling her she has no future in fashion except maybe as a costume designer for underfunded live action superhero shows.

She is devastated.

Keep reading

Things to add to your bucket list:

Travel:

  • See The Northern Lights 
  • See A Solar Eclipse 
  • See A Waterfall 
  • See Cherry Blossoms in Japan 
  • See The 7 Wonders of The World 
  • See The Mona Lisa, at the Louvre in Paris 
  • See Da Vinci’s Notebooks, Victoria and Albert Museum 
  • Spend New Year’s Eve in Times Square 
  • Spend a day at Central Park, New York 
  • Spend Mardi Gras in New Orleans 
  • Spend La Tomatina in Spain 
  • Spend Dia De Los Muertos in Mexico 
  • Use a Cable Car In San Francisco 
  • Visit Anne Frank’s House 
  • Visit Large Hadron Collider 
  • Walk Along the Great Wall of China 
  • Push A Stone at Stonehenge 
  • Wear an Authentic Kimono in Japan 
  • Make A Guard Laugh at Buckingham Palace 
  • Go to an Olympic Game 
  • Travel All Around the World 
  • Stand at The Equator 
  • Backpack Across at Least 10 Locations 
  • Pack Your Bags and Set Off for A Random Location 
  • Live in A Different Country for at Least 6 Months 
  • Set Foot in All the Continents 
  • See A TED Talk Live 
  • Comic Con or Who Con – Any Con 
  • Tee in The Park 
  • Coachella 
  • Go On a Safari 

Achieve Something

  • Achieve My Ideal Weight 
  • Publish A Book 
  • Get Featured in The Media for Something You Are Proud Of 
  • Start A Movement On a Cause You Believe In 
  • Get A Standing Ovation 
  • Get A Street Named After Me 
  • Give £10,000 To Charity 
  • Create A Famous Quote 
  • Start A Phenomenon 
  • Start A Petition 
  • Prove A Theory 
  • Become an Ordained Minister 

People

  • Be A Matchmaker 
  • Contact A Company  Just to Thank Them 
  • Fold 1,000 Origami Cranes and Give Them to Someone Special 
  • Pie Someone in The Face 
  • Personally Know Someone Famous 
  • Do Volunteer Work 
  • Be A Mentor to Someone 
  • Make A Difference in Someone’s Life 
  • Teach Someone Illiterate to Read 
  • Give A Heartfelt Surprise to Someone 
  • Perform A Kind Deed Without Expecting Anything in Return 
  • Meet A Good Street Performer 
  • Shake Hands with PM and President 
  • Meet Someone You Can Only Dream of Meeting 
  • Collect Autographs from All My Favourite People 
  • Donate Blood and Meet Who It Got Donated To 
  • Get A Pen Pal 
  • Write 365 Letters to Someone 
  • Write Letters to 5 People Who Positively Influenced You 
  • Leave £100 Tip for a waiter/waitress 
  • Befriend A Stranger 
  • Get A Drink for A Stranger 
  • High Five a Stranger 
  • Take A Picture with A Stranger 
  • Give Free Hugs on a side-walk 
  • Hold Sign Saying ‘Talk to Me About Anything’ On A Busy Street 
  • Order Pizza and Send It to A Random House with Note 

Something for Me

  • Get A Pet 
  • Get A Complete Makeover 
  • Decorate My Room – Paint A Cool Landscape 
  • Fly First Class 
  • Get My Portrait Painted 
  • Legitimately Play a Song On Any Musical Instrument 
  • Get A Signed Copy of a Book I Love 
  • Dye My Hair an Unnatural Colour – Purple/Blue 
  • Get The Restaurant Staff Sing for my birthday 
  • Get A Mani/Pedi 
  • Have A Spa Day 
  • Receive A Postcard from All Countries from Post Crossing 
  • Get A Star Named After Me 
  • Get Picked Up at The Airport by Someone with A Sign 
  • Authentic Chuck Taylors 

Learn Something New

  • Learn A New Language 
  • Learn Morse Code 
  • Learn to Say Hello in 26 Languages 
  • Learn Sign Language 

Try Something New

  • Try A Profession in A Different Field 
  • Try Every Single Ben and Jerry’s Flavour 
  • Try to Be Vegan for A Week 

Once in a Lifetime

  • Fly in A Hot-Air Balloon 
  • Do Public Speaking 
  • Act in A Film - Big or Small 
  • Be an Extra in a Big Film 
  • Crowd Surf 
  • Indoor Skydiving 
  • Wash an Elephant 
  • Ride A Rollercoaster 
  • Be On a Big Screen 

Participate in/Organize  Something

  • Run A Marathon 
  • Volunteer at A Hospice 
  • Go in A Corn Maze 
  • Join A Book Club 
  • High School Reunion 
  • Participate in Holi Festival 
  • Attend A Jewish Wedding 
  • Attend A Christian Wedding 
  • Attend A Hindi Wedding 
  • Attend A Sikh Wedding 
  • Attend A Muslim Wedding 
  • Attend An Atheist Wedding
  • Attend Any Wedding … 
  • Attend A Random Wedding as a Stranger 
  • Treasure Hunt 
  • Scavenger Hunt 
  • Masquerade Ball 
  • Murder Mystery Dinner 
  • Organise A Picnic Outing 
  • Organise A Barbeque 
  • Organize a Block Party 
  • Throw A Mega Party       
  • Put On a Fundraiser 
  • Foam Party 
  • Zombie Walk 
  • National Novel Writing Month 
  • MONOPOLY – actually complete it 

Something Sentimental

  • Walk/Dance Barefoot in The Rain 
  • Experience A Sunrise 
  • Experience A Sunset 
  • Go Stargazing 
  • Plant A Tree and Watch It Grow 
  • Go Camping 
  • Road Trip 
  • Fly A Kite 
  • Fall Asleep On Grassy Plains 
  • Ultimate Water Fight 
  • Message in A Bottle 
  • Sleep Under the Stars 
  • Make A Cool Snowman 
  • MOVIE MARATHON 
  • All Day with No Technology 
  • Water gun and Water Balloon Fight 
  • Bonfire and S’mores 
  • Blanket and Sofa Fort 
  • Catch Fireflies 
  • Collect Seashells 
  • Messy Twister 
  • Let A Floating Lantern Go 
  • Belong in A Secret Society 
  • Collect A Penny Made in Every Year I’ve Been Alive
  • Food Fight 
  • Leave A Note in A Library Book 
  • Leave A Note On A Car Window 
  • Leave A Shoe at A Ball 
  • Release A Chinese Lantern 
  • Use A Fake Name at Starbucks 
  • Pretend to Be a Window Mannequin 
  • Pull A Fire Alarm 
  • Pull an All Nighter 
  • Put A Pair of My Shoes On a Shoe Tree 

Places to go / Things To See

  • Ballet 
  • Beach 
  • Castle 
  • Concert 
  • Drive-in Movie 
  • Factory 
  • Haunted Place 
  • Laser Quest 
  • Museum 
  • Music Festival 
  • Paintballing 
  • Theatre 
  • Zip line 

Make Something

  • Knit A Scarf 
  • Build A Treehouse 
  • Write A Children’s Book 
  • Start A Vlog 
  • Make A Rubber Band Ball 
  • Start A Scrapbook 
  • Do A 365 Day Photo Project 
  • Wreck-This Journal 
  • Make A Bracelet 
  • Bake Something 
Laps and Naps

Originally posted by ohh-bloodyhell

Pairing: Sebastian Stan x female!Reader - Cast x female!Reader

Request: So my idea was a fic with seb and reader on the set of Infinity War. Reader likes taking naps on the casts laps, and after a while seb notices that she’s never napped on his lap and gets a bit jealous. A few cast members notice his crush on the reader and one day reader finds seb and the rest of the cast sitting together and goes straight for his lap. The whole cast looks up in awe and snap multiple pictures and seb is all flustered and blushy. You can change it up if it didn’t make sense lol ☺️ (-anon)

Warnings: none, really!! just pretty fluffy stuff

Word Count: 1.2K

A/N: it’s been such a weird week, and i really hope today will be good. but i’ve been havin’ a pretty bad mental-problems sort of day streak, so any memes sent to me are and will be greatly appreciated !!


“Y/N,” a distant, low voice sneaks through your sleepy mind. “C’mon, Y/N, I have to be in the suit in five minutes.”

The groggy veil of sleep slowly lifts off of your as you begin to wake-up. You could feel a heavy hand beginning to gently shake your shoulder.

“But I was so comfy,” your tired voice grumbles.

“I know,” Chris’s soothing voice drifts through the room. “But you’ve been sleeping on me for almost an hour, and I really have to get ready.”

Fine,” you groan, lazily pushing yourself up into a sitting position, snuggling into the corner of the couch as you pry open your heavy eyelids. “But you should know, that was a good nap.”

You blink away the sleep from your vision and look around the room, your gaze locking on Anthony.

Keep reading

Discipline 101

So you have the ambition. You have all the answers. All you lack is the discipline.

Unsurprisingly, this is a problem most people have, so don’t worry, you’re not alone.

Tell me, do you have a concrete goal? Or is it something vague like, “Rule the world”, or “get rich” or “become famous”?

Usually those who lack discipline have a habit of getting ahead of themselves and they end up having all these fantastic goals without any knowledge of how to achieve them. They have big ambitions, but no clear plans, no visible steps, and no foundation to start their life on. It’s the equivalent of standing on one side of the river and being able to see the other side, but having no method of making it across.

It’s good to have a starting point, and know what you want in the end. But the path to earning what you desire isn’t pre-made for you. It’s up to you to lay every brick and measure everything out. In your life, you’re the architect, you’re the engineer, you’re the investor, you’re everything.

So the how do you get some discipline?  It’s simple: You need to know how you’re going to do something, before you set out to do it.

Step 1: Get Motivated

Make a list. And make sure you handwrite it. Two columns. Think about everything you have a problem with, all your interests and passions, and everything you have ever wanted in one column. In the other column, spend as much time as you need to come up with solutions to each issue/goal. Don’t write one side, without the other.

Spend a couple days looking at that list. Make it into a poster, use it as your phone background, it doesn’t matter as long as you make sure you see it every day until you feel something. I’m saying that incredibly vaguely because people are fueled by different emotions. For me, it was rage.

Every morning, I stared at that list of everything I’d ever wanted, every little problem that made my life miserable and I got furious. To see what my life revolved around so callously written on paper, and feeling so close yet so far, that drove me insane. My anger made my passion double, and nothing fuels discipline more than passion.

Step 2: Plan

Once you’ve gotten yourself suitably motivated to take charge of your life, don’t waste any time. Start by creating a plan. Now that you know what you want to do, figure out how to do it.

Create a timeline for the next year and then a looser version for the next ten years. It can sound daunting, but when you fall off track at some point (and I can guarantee, you will) you’re going to need something to point you in the right direction.

For your detailed, one year plan, make sure your goals are distributed into two categories: Short term and Long term.  

For your short term goals, list everything you want to achieve in that year and how exactly you’re going to do it.

For example,  if you want to lose weight, I don’t just want to see you write down “lose weight”. Tell me how. Tell me how much. Tell me by when. “Lose five pounds by October by going to the gym 4 days a week”, or “Cut down on eating X food so I can lose 5 pounds by October”, etc. Be specific.

For your long term goals, pick 3 things you want in general. The first thing should be something you can achieve in that year, and it should be the focus of your entire year. The second thing is something you don’t necessarily need, but it makes you happy anyways (like spending more time on a hobby, or saving money for a new designer bag, etc.). The third thing should be something that stays fairly consistent in every single ‘year-plan’ you have. Ultimately, it’s either your most important desire, or very close to it.

These long term goals will help you put together your 10 year plan, and create a better sense of direction in your life.

Step 3: Prioritize

Learn to prioritize these tasks and goals. Don’t go to sleep until you’ve felt like you’ve completed all your tasks for the day. Don’t give in to distractions and the illusion of “well-deserved fun”. Sure, going clubbing may seem fun on  Saturday, but it won’t be fun on Sunday night when you’re frantically writing a paper that’s due in two hours. There’s always time for fun later, there’s always another concert and another football game and another party. But some things have a greater impact on your life than just one night of “fun”.

I’m not saying become some kind of a workaholic. There’s always a time and a place for everything. If you try to follow your plan without any distractions or any fun, you’re going to get bored and then you’re start to hate your plan and your life and then it gets messy. Avoid all that by knowing when you’ve earned a break. It’s very important to discern when you can afford to step away from work to have fun with your friends and when going out is just going to distract you from an important deadline. 

Step 4: Act

Now, don’t just write these goals down and shove them in a dusty file on your desk. Keep them within arms reach. Look at them frequently. What I like to do is every morning, I write down a short term goal I have for that week/day/month and one of my long-term goals in my planner. It’s just a little reminder and keeps me focused throughout the day. I don’t feel like my day is complete or productive until I’ve had some progress on either the long term or short term goal.

Also, keep in mind that while planning is a great thing to do, don’t expect yourself to stick to every single detail of the plan. Life happens, and there are certain things you cannot control (although it wouldn’t hurt to try). Don’t be too hard on yourself if you find yourself unable to complete one of your goals for the day/week/month. It happens to everyone, we’re all human. What you need to focus on is the big picture and move on. Don’t waste precious time wallowing in past mistakes. Time doesn’t wait for anyone, least of all for you.

Step 5: Commit

Discipline doesn’t come from just being motivated or having a plan. It comes from consistency. Form productive habits, start efficient routines, and stick to them. For example, if you want to become a writer, make sure you write something, however small it is, everyday. One sentence, one paragraph, one page, the amount doesn’t matter. It’s important to understand that something, however small, is better than nothing. This constant dedication to your work will help you move one step closer to your goals.

The more you force yourself to stay in line when faced with temptation, the easier it will be every other time you are faced with the same challenge further down the line. Everyone forms habits. Just make sure they’re the right ones and you’d be shocked at how much your life could change.

Everything you need to become disciplined is inside of you. Everyone has the willpower and motivation. It’s just some people know what to do with it.

Just remember: Get motivated. Plan. Prioritize. Act. Commit

And the world is yours.

Six Years and Seven Days

This is pretending that Bellamy could hear Clarke talking all those years, she just can’t hear him responding, and that the ship at the end is them coming back to Earth. 

So…pain. 


Day Three

“Bellamy…are you up there? Are you alive? Is anyone alive?”

Static.

“I only woke up yesterday. At least, I think it was yesterday. I barely made it into the bunker in time, but I made it. And the computer says it’s been three days since the radiation hit, and I was so hungry I thought I might die. Please tell me you didn’t die.”

Silence.

“Bellamy, my mom was right. In a way. My face is disgusting, covered in boils. You’d be laughing at me…probably. Because she was right but so were you. I’m not dead Bellamy. I hope you aren’t either.”

His fingers slammed on the respond button, pushing it down to the point of it feeling like it would crack from the pressure.

“I’m not dead, Clarke. I’m not dead.”

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anonymous asked:

Yo could you share some of your headcanons for the deh kiddos :O ?! I'm really curious!!

*cracks knuckles* HEADCANONS UNDER THE CUT (these are generally feel-good and going off of a Connor Lived And Everything Gets Better AU set of ten [+ one extra] headcanons for the kids where they’re all friends)

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POPULAR TEXT POSTS + ASK MEME  (  PART 3  )

❛ i need a reasonable paying job, something like $2,000 an hour. nothing too wild. ❜
❛ idc (i do care) ❜
❛ ‘are you taken?’ yes bitch, taken for granted ❜
❛ half of me is a hopeless romantic and the other half is, well, an asshole ❜
❛ you’re yelling? at ME? the one person who has never done anything wrong ever?????? ❜
❛ you will find your home, you will find your place. you will find your people. give it a little bit of time but it will happen. ❜
❛ in order lead a happy life i’m gonna have to disappoint my parents a bit. ❜
❛ any body else here not good at anything??? ❜
❛ you can’t force people to appreciate you. ❜
❛ *puts on baseball cap* i am the dad now… ❜
❛ i fake smart.. like i’m honestly a dumbass idk shit but i know how to seem like i do.. i’m smart-passing.. ❜
❛ every straight woman who ever called her platonic friend her ‘girlfriend’ owes me $50 ❜
❛ i am a professional at misreading tones and overreacting to problems that most likely don’t exist ❜
❛ honestly if i survive the next 3 years of my life, i will be impressed with myself ❜
❛ you can’t cure sadnesses with a shower but honestly there is no purer place to suffer ❜
❛ patiently waiting for a kind soul to come along and make everything a little softer, brighter. ❜
❛ honestly i don’t even play an active role in my life, shit just happens and i’m like oh this is what we’re doing now? ok ❜
❛ no offense but if i die and no one uses a ouija board to keep me updated on memes i will literally haunt you all ❜
❛ imma start charging people for hurting my feelings $3 an hour ❜
❛ i have finally reached the age of most young adult protagonists yet my life is still uneventful??? where is my cool story??? my cool talents??? @ universe i’m pissed ❜
❛ hello, police? i accidentally stepped on my cats foot and need to be arrested ❜
❛ *tries to watch 45 minute episode in 20 minutes ❜
❛ please don’t just come in my life, take my heart and leave. please don’t do that. ❜
❛ concept: me, 10 years from now, living in a pretty house with my love, sipping a hot cappuccino on a rainy autumn afternoon. our dog curls up next to me in the window bench while our cat snoozes on the bed. i’m financially stable and i’m never tired anymore. the bees are safe. ❜
❛ i can’t believe what walkie talkies are called ❜
❛ the gorilla could have died and been done with in like a week but none of you know how to be normal ❜
❛ me: *is bitter but is also right* ❜
❛ just saw a girl in high heels long boarding to class. godspeed, my queen. ❜
❛ i’ve never belonged anywhere, i’m always just in between ❜
❛ too young for unnecessary stress, i gotta live ❜
❛ i may not be beautiful but at least i know a lot of useless information ❜
❛ i’m like always sleepy. i feel like i should be used to this by now and stop complaining about being sleepy but i can’t. always, i’m sleepy. ❜
❛ lmao no offense… but what’s the point of being mean to people for no reason ❜
❛ drunk me is the me i really want to be. confident, hilarious, and most importantly, drunk ❜
❛ “alcohol isn’t supposed to taste good” buddy watch me drink the fruitiest/sweetest shit i can find and enjoy it because i don’t hate myself enough to even begin to consider drinking like.. beer ❜
❛ tfw you’re already fully aware of the unnecessary self destructive bullshit you’re doing but you can’t bring yourself to do anything to stop it ❜
❛ hey sorry for not replying i didn’t want to ❜
❛ honestly how am i gonna make it in the world???? i get a little teary eyed any time someone compliments my personality ❜
❛ true bonding is when you and your friends are all angry about the same thing ❜
❛ *touches your hand and looks seriously into your eyes* i am a piece of shit ❜
❛ lets play ‘how rude can i be until you realize i don’t like you’ ❜
❛ i love drunk me but i don’t trust her ❜
❛ hate when i am wearing makeup and still look shitty like what else am i supposed to do? get enough sleep? eat right and exercise??? as if ❜
❛ i’m not on a high horse. i’m not even on a horse. i’m face down in a ditch on the road of life ❜
❛ i hate when people ask me what i would do in their situation because 9 times out of 10 i would literally never be in that situation in the first place ❜
❛ i barely remember the last 6 months honestly like am i even alive ❜
❛ you had me at ‘hello’ and lost me at ‘i think your friend is cute’ ❜
❛ i’m pretty sure by now ‘tired’ is just a part of my personality description ❜
❛ wow i really liked that song now i think i’ll listen to it another seventy times in a row ❜
❛ ‘shit it’s 2 a.m.’ i say every day at 2 a.m. as if i’m surprised ❜
❛ i’ve been stressed out since like the third day of second grade ❜
❛ telling other girls they look pretty is like cracking a glow stick full of positivity and female friendship ❜
❛ i want to be sun kissed and also people kissed ❜
❛ about me: glowing, eating peaches, drinking wine in lingerie, not texting your desperate ass back  ❜
❛ i highly recommend never having feelings ❜
❛ due to unfortunate circumstances, i am awake ❜
❛ i’m gonna solve mysteries so fucking good ❜
❛ what did people even wear in 2008 ❜
❛ i’ll just ¯\_(ツ)_/¯  my way through life ❜
❛ you know what sucks? everything bye ❜
❛ me? overreacting? probably ❜
❛ people asking me what kind of music i like is such a stressful experience ❜
❛ honestly if i survive the next 3 years of my life i will be impressed with myself ❜
❛ if you listen carefully you can hear me whisper ‘shut the fuck up’ at least once every five minutes ❜
❛ any time you like a boy just know you played yourself. always keep that stored in your mind for later ❜
❛ hopeless romantic with trust issues and a sex drive out the roof ❜
❛ what i lack in personality i make up for in…….. nothing ❜
❛ me? cancelled ❜
❛ an app that tells you how raven something is ❜
❛ be with someone who will take care of you. not materialistically but takes care of your soul, your well being, your heart, and everything that’s you ❜
❛ i love the infinite multiverse theory because that means there’s a universe where i’ve pulled every single fire alarm i’ve ever seen ❜
❛ name a more iconic duo than the lengths i’ll go to both get attention and to avoid it… i’ll wait ❜
❛ i just want to be treated very gently and smell like vanilla and wear only matte dusty rose lipstick ❜
❛ 2017 is going to be a very healing year because it’s going to force us to accept that 2007 was ten years ago not three and i think that’s the root of our collective issues ❜
❛ i just wanna do cute things with you like crush the patriarchy, fight for gender equality, and help to destroy racism ❜
❛ i may not be that funny or athletic or good looking or smart or talented… i forgot where i was going with this ❜
❛ how is 2016 already almost over?? like this bitch came in, fucked us up, then left like she gave us a gift ❜
❛ supercalifragilisticextentialcrisis ❜
❛ stop breaking your own motherfucking heart ❜
❛ co-napping is a beautiful thing. knock out with me so i know it’s real ❜
❛ *on the verge of tears* ok not that i care, but ❜
❛ it’s not you…. it’s your zodiac sign ❜
❛ i want to be loved so bad it’s pathetic and embarrassing ❜
❛ my heart is filled with hate and swag ❜
❛ ‘i don’t care’ i say, caringly, as i care deeply ❜
❛ i highly recommend never having feelings ❜
❛ we all ugly to somebody, don’t trip ❜
❛ do i have a crush or am i just idolizing this person for being vaguely nice to me? ❜
❛ my parents were arguing today and my mom said that justin timberlake wouldn’t treat her like this ❜
❛ kissing is hella rad but no one is kissing me so that makes me hella sad ❜
❛ everyone’s having their mid-life crisis at like 19 ❜
❛ there are just people out there that are the embodiment of the sun like the things they say do light up the world and make you feel warm they are human sunshine ❜
❛ dermatologists HATE me… everyone hates me. i’m so alone ❜
❛ you know when you realize and you just… realize ❜
❛ a girl can respect herself and still take booty pics wtf y’all talkin about ❜
❛ i’m not badass i’m sadass i cry about everything ❜
❛ inspired by animal crossing, i’ve started doing this thing where i mail my best friends a framed picture of myself and then never speak to them again ❜
❛ i didn’t know double texting was such a big deal?? i have a lot to say ❜
❛ can someone please just be proud of me like fuck i’m trying ❜
❛ cosmo sex tip #367: when you’re in the mood, tell you partner ‘my spidey senses are tingling’ ❜

(  you can find the other popular text posts memes on my old blog: 1, 2 )

Harry Fake Dates Kendall but is in Love With You

A/n: This is an updated version of an imagine I’ve previously uploaded. I know Hendall is so 2015. I get it.

Masterlist linked in bio.


The red wine leaves a particular stain on Harry’s lips that he hadn’t noticed until Kendall pointed it out to him.

“It looks like you’re wearing lipstick” she laughs, “I didn’t know you were going to dress up this much for the party.”

They are currently sat at his mum’s kitchen island, drinking red wine while munching on some chips left out for the guests. The house is filled with familiar faces, friends and family all throughout London coming together for Anne’s birthday celebration.

They hosted one every year for as long as Harry could remember, a time of year where nearly every one of his family members, including his step family, would unite. It was their favorite time of year, believe it or not. Despite all the excitement for the holidays, Anne’s birthday celebration was certainly something special.

It was Kendall’s first time attending, considering the fact that Harry had only really talked to her whenever he was assigned to be with her for publicity. It wasn’t always ideal, however, he built a stable friendship with her, so he didn’t mind the extra company with him from time to time.

She was invited last minute, of course, since his management called last night to ask if there was any way for them to be seen together. With Harry’s new movie coming out and his solo album just released a couple weeks ago, it was almost a given for him to be rumored with a girlfriend. That’s how it’s worked all throughout his career.

He normally wouldn’t have minded, however, this was the worst possible date for him to be with Kendall.

Because it’s Anne’s birthday party, this means that it’ll be the first time in one year that he’ll be seeing Y/n. They have been best friends since they were five years old, basically growing up in the same house as they went through school together. But as time went on, and as they both went to their separate ways, it was hard to keep in touch with each other all the time.

She remained in the small towns of London while Harry was traveling world wide, where his name became known everywhere as Y/n’s was only known through people she attended school with. Of course, they still talked, considering they both admitted to having more than friendship feelings, but their lives were busy in their own ways, preventing them from being more than what they wanted to be.

For the past couple months, Harry planned that this would be the day he’d finally move forward with Y/n. Or, at least attempt to. With the loss of her over the past year, it made Harry realize just how much he couldn’t imagine a life without her. It had been so long—too long, and he couldn’t stand how long he’s lived without keeping in touch with her.

But now, everything he planned for the two of them is becoming impossible. He can’t begin to imagine how Y/n would feel knowing he brought Kendall to his mum’s birthday party after they both confessed their love for each other. In all honesty, he wouldn’t blame her for giving up on him. He keeps doing this to her, even if it’s unintentional.

He watches around the kitchen at the guests he hasn’t seen in quite a while. His leg bounces with impatience when each new person walking in to attend the party isn’t Y/n. It’s been nearly an hour and has never been so late to anything before.

And as horrible as it sounds, he almost wishes she doesn’t come, just so that she can avoid the heartbreak that will come when she reunites with Kendall again.

“I’m sorry I’m late!”

Harry’s head whips around when he hears the voice he’s been deprived of for the past year. The first thing he notices are her lips, and the way they move around her words so softly. They’re slightly glazed with a lipgloss, painting her lips with a rosy shade of pink. They look so much fuller to him now, but he knows not a trace of them are artificial.  

His eyes only drift from the shape of her lips when her fingers reach to tuck loose pieces of hair behind her ear. It’s then he notices just how much shorter her hair has gotten. What was once so long and lank is now falling just above the shoulder, set in luscious curls he can only imagine twisting around his fingers.

His jaw goes slack when he sees the pale pink dress she’s wearing. It’s made from silk, the metallic fabric glowing with each step she takes. He gulps when he notices just how much the dress accentuates the curvature of her body and how much of her legs are put on display for him to see, and he can’t help but to wipe the sweat off his palms when he watches her greet his mother with a proper kiss on the cheek.

He notices that his eyes haven’t shut since he’s seen her, but he’s so completely intrigued by how much has changed in her. Something about her seems so much more real—so much more vibrant—and he can’t seem to stop himself from praising how time has done her so goddamn well.

“You never told me she was going to be here.“

His body jerks at Kendall’s sudden appearance, her body slowly occupying the seat next to his at the kitchen island. If it wasn’t for her, he swears he would have caught himself drooling.

“Didn’t think I had to,” he says with a shrug, “she’s been my best friend since we were five. She’s basically apart of this family, she wouldn’t have missed this for the world.”

Y/n hasn’t missed a single one of Anne’s birthday celebrations since she’s known Harry. Their bond is irreplaceable—so irreplaceable, in fact, that Anne has been convinced Y/n is a miracle for their family. She was there for them through all the troubled times; helping them through their hardships and family instabilities.

When Anne and her husband first got divorced, Harry and Y/n were seven. Harry didn’t understand much of what was happening, all he knew was that his mum and dad weren’t going to love each other anymore. He was hurting, even when Gemma was there to try and keep him together. He started to believe everything between his parents was a lie.

She understood the whole separation process. Her mum left her at a young age, leaving her alone with her father. They were close, of course, but she always missed having a mother figure in her life. It made her upset to know she could only listen to one voice in the house, but as she grew older, she accepted it more.

By the time she met Harry, he kept bringing her over to his house as the years went on. Anne was the closest she had to mother, and their bond became unbreakable by the time Y/n was a teenager. Nearly seven years of Y/n being like another member of the family, Y/n started buying Anne Mother’s Day cards.

So when Y/n watched her second family fall apart, along with Anne’s heart, and she was determined to patch them back together again. Even at her young age, she’d pick flowers from her garden and give them to Anne everyday after school. Y/n said they represented her, and how she felt being a woman with such love and beauty could die all too quickly. Harry never understood what it meant, but Y/n did, which is why she never stopped until she heard Anne laughing again.

She also started to draw pictures and write her letters, reminding her of how loved she was by everyone. As much as Anne was heartbroken during the time, she took the letters everywhere she went and kept every flower alive for as long as she possibly could. Anne would always tell Harry “That girl came into our lives for a reason, my love. She’s a special one, our little miracle, never let her go. You hear me?”

Harry didn’t understand what it truly meant to let someone go, but he did his best to do anything but that. And now, as Harry sits on his mother’s kitchen island and seeing Y/n for the first time in a year, he feels he’s done just that.

“Guess not.” Kendall mutters, taking her last sip of the red wine left in her glass. “She’s just so strange, I guess. I can barely hold a conversation with her without her making an excuse to leave.”

Kendall and Y/n never really got along, it was extremely noticeable to everyone who held a conversation with the both of them. They just don’t see things in the same light. Y/n is very outgoing and lively; an extreme extrovert that seeks adventure—and Kendall can’t stand it. She thinks Y/n does it for attention, especially because she’s remained a small town girl while being surrounded by well-known celebrities. And even though it may seem like Y/n likes the attention, that’s not her purpose. She gives all her attention to others, never to herself, and it has always been something Harry loved the most.

And when it comes to Y/n, Kendall was that one thing that was constantly in her way of Harry. No matter how many times Harry and Y/n discussed how there was something between them, Kendall always found her way back to haunt her. She was her worst goddamn nightmare. She was perfect for Harry in the public eye, and nothing made Y/n feel worse than knowing she’ll never be her type of perfect, especially when it came to Harry.

But Kendall doesn’t know that. All she knows is that Y/n is extremely stand-offish with her, and she’ll never understand why.

“She’s not used to our lives. It’s extremely difficult for her to understand how we live, you know? She’s normal.”

Kendall scoffs, eyes rolling around the room because she hates that word. She feels so divided, like she’s in a categorization in society and everything about it makes her teeth clench.

“We’re normal, too, you know. I don’t understand why she feels so intimated and feels like she has something to prove.”

Harry’s jaw clenches slightly at the negative connotes Kendall has about Y/n’s life. Something about it makes his stomach twist the wrong way, and he can’t help the underlying growl in between his words.

“We’re not normal. Deep down, you and I both know that. You also don’t know Y/n, so stop making irrational assumptions about her.”

Kendall narrows her eyes at Harry, a gaze full of confusion and disbelief at the undeniable grumble in his tone. Any rational conversation they have about Y/n always end the same—with Harry quick to end the discussion and jump to her defense. It’s times like these Kendall never understood the true extent of Harry and Y/n’s relationship. They always claimed it was platonic but there has always been a sense of something stronger in them, like unaddressed or unchased feelings, or a past they shared that was kept between the two.

Either way, it annoyed the shit out of Kendall because they both were hiding something that she’ll never be able to get answered.

“Fine, whatever.” She sighs dramatically, scooting her chair back until she has room to stand properly. “Want some more wine? Getting some.”

Harry slides his empty wine glass so that it’s in front of her, muttering a small “yeah, thanks” before she’s on her way to the counter across the room, retrieving extra wine and mingling with some of Harry’s family.

Harry sighs while his head rests at the palm of his hand, eyes gazing directly to where Y/n is standing. His lips tug up lightly when he hears her laugh from the living room, his tongue running over his bottom lip ever so slightly as he watches her mouth lift and her eyes squint shut as she catches up with one of his uncles about his grand annual weekend fishing trip.

And as his eyes stay so transfixed on the woman in the other room, he can’t help but imagine seeing that type of perfection every day for the rest of his life.

“And everyone thinks Sweet Creature is about me..”

Harry’s head snaps to Gemma’s figure leaning over the edge of the island, her elbows hitched on the counter as a small smirk plays on her lips. She found it abnormally amusing how he didn’t even acknowledge her presence until she spoke, too invested in hawking over Y/n’s every move.

Harry grumbles, but the smile from Y/n’s laughter is permanent on his lips when he does so. Gemma even notices his cheeks brighten with pink, another hint of confirmation to the words she spoke.

“Shut up, Gem.“

She puts her arms up defensively, “Hey, don’t take it out on me. I’m just making an observation.”

Harry rolls his eyes as Gemma wraps her arm around his neck, hunching over so that her lips are close to his ear and eyes are directed toward Y/n again.

“She has gotten hotter, hasn’t she?”

She has no idea. All Harry can think about is how someone already so beautiful has grown to be so perfect. Everything about her makes Harry want to get down on his knees and worship every inch of her body. He has to bite down on his bottom lip to stop himself from thinking how much of a wreck he wants to make out of her.

“I don’t know how she did it. You better get her while you still have the chance, I know many, many men who want a taste of her.”

No is the first thing Harry thinks when the words leave from Gemma’s mouth. As hypocritical and selfish as it is, knowing other men have shown an interest in her makes his skin crawl. And he can’t help but feel his throat tighten at the moment Y/n realizes he had brought Kendall to this party.

“Is she—“ he can’t even finish his sentence without his jaw tightening again, hindering the rest of his question from leaving his lips.

“Oh, quit your worrying, H. She’s single, I don’t think she’d ever date someone who isn’t you. Besides, I don’t think you can do much about it with Kendall here.”

Gemma lifts a finger to where Kendall is standing, still in the same spot as she talks to his aunt Leslie. His heart hurts knowing what Y/n will feel when she finds out. He knows that there is always a part of her that feels discouraged whenever there’s a new woman in his life. In between Harry and Y/n’s love for each other was a mix of false hopes and miscommunication, and it always fucked them up whenever anything else was put in their way.

Gemma pats his shoulder before making rounds to her family and friends again, leaving Harry slumped against the counter with not a drop of wine to numb his scrambling mind.

When Y/n finishes catching up with the rest of Harry’s family, she finds that her patience is wearing thin. It’s been a year since she’s seen the love of her life, and knowing that he’s somewhere near her is enough to get her heart racing.

When she sees him sitting alone at the kitchen island, wearing his infamous pink suit and staring down at his fingers, it’s as if her body starts to malfunction. Her legs stop moving and her lips part, eyes glistening with admiration as she sees him for the first time in so long.

He’s as beautiful as ever, his new haircut accentuating his facial structure. His lips seem so much more red, too, which are complimented greatly by that goddamn suit. Everything about him radiates, like he’s developed into a whole other person. She’ll never quite grasp the idea that she’s about to reunite with him; something about it makes her palms sweat.

“Hey, stranger.”

Harry lifts his head up to look at her in all her glory. His heart warms at her presence more than the wine did, and he can’t help but to take a breath of relief when he finally hears her voice again.

“Y/n.” He breathes out, his fingers instinctively reaching up to the ends of her cut hair.

He chokes out a laugh of admiration when he sees her this close to him. She is so much different—so much more perfect than he ever remembers her being and it takes his breath away.

His fingers twist her hair, wrapping them around the digits before letting the strands fall back in place again. He never saw her without her hair down to her waist, and now that he has, he never wants to see her hair past her shoulders again.

“It’s so beautiful” he whispers, “you look so beautiful like this, Y/n. I absolutely love it.”

She blushes, her chin tucking slightly into her neck as if trying to hide how much of a reaction he got out of her. No matter how many years she’s known him, she was never used to the way he spoke to her.

“It was spontaneous. Really wanted a change, and it looks like I’m not the only one.”

Her hands reach to his hair, which is so much shorter compared to the last time she saw him. She remembered she couldn’t keep her hands out of it last year, constantly finding ways to tangle her fingers at the ends. Harry found it hysterical, actually, and thought it was the cutest thing she’s ever done.

“It’s just so soft” she’d say, “it’s like a whole other world in there!”

But now her only option is to tangle her fingers at the roots, and as she does so, her mind drifts to all the other occasions she could have her hands in his hair again.

“It’s so much shorter. Look at that! I can barely tug on it anymore!” She laughs in amusement, her fingers slipping as she pulls too hard.

He smirks up at her, a giggle falling from his lips as he watches her utterly amused reaction. They begin to catch up with the part of their lives they both have missed. Harry talked about his album while Y/n started discussing her new journalism job.

Talking to Y/n is one of the only normal parts of him left, it always gave him a sense of grounding whenever he felt his career was taking off to heights he wasn’t ready for. She is one of the only sense of normality he has left in his life, and it’s another reason as to why he admires her so dearly. She brought out parts of him nobody else could reach, and it’s another reason why he feels so upset he’s barely talked to her.

“Y/n?” he asks hesitantly, reaching his hand over so that his fingertips graze her hand.

Her breath breaks when he touches her, the softness in his voice proving that what is about to be discussed is far more important than their previous conversation. She notices the stress lines in between his forehead and the parting of his wine stained lips when he begins to speak. 

“I’m so sorry I haven’t kept in touch with you. I know how it makes me look, especially after everything that happened between us. With the new album and everything, I’ve just been so busy with—“

“Kendall?”

Harry’s head jumps to where Y/n stares dumbfounded, Kendall holding two glasses of wine in one hand while the other is carrying a plate of chicken wings. She’s looking down at Y/n, too, her eyebrows lifted up in an intimidating manner. There’s a scowl present on her lips as she continues to tower over her.

Y/n feels tears building in her eyes as she takes in the situation at hand. She was so fucking dumb to think that Harry was going to come to Anne’s party alone, especially since his new album just released. This is Kendall’s prime time appearance, when Harry needs a familiar famous face beside him to advertise his solo career.

This isn’t anything new—this isn’t anything unfamiliar, but the pain feels like a fresh wound to her heart. Harry and Y/n are nearly 24, with having known each other and felt something for each other for years, she thought that if anything were going to happen, it was going to happen now. But everything between them has remained stagnant for so long that the last sliver of hope she had for their potential relationship has been completely taken away from her. By Kendall, again.

“W—Wow, I’m sorry. I didn’t—I didn’t know Harry had invited you.”

“Yeah,” Kendall nods, “he invited me last night.”

Last night.

Y/n’s lips purse together, nodding her head as her eyes drift around the kitchen. Anything to avoid Kendall’s eyes—anything to feel as unimportant as she does now.

Harry’s eyes squeeze shut, a small hissing releasing from his tongue at how wrong it all sounds, considering absolutely nothing happened between Harry and Kendall the previous night besides being demanded that the two of them are to be seen together again.

“Right,” Y/n’s voice cracks, “well, I’m sorry to interrupt your time together. I’m going to go to Gemma’s room, got a phone call from my dad a while ago so I should go check up on him. I’ll see you guys around.”

She musters up a pathetic smile before practically running away from them. After everything they both told each other, after all the feelings they’ve had toward each other, how could Harry keep doing this to her? How could he keep being with Kendall when he says he loves Y/n?

She doesn’t even find the strength in her to hold in her tears before she approaches the steps, not daring to look back at them again. She never wants to see them in the same room again, it’ll be too much her heart can handle. 

“You’ve really got to be fucking kidding me, Kendall.” Harry growls.

His hands fist around the wine glass, his knuckles turning white and he’s absolutely shocked it hasn’t shattered into pieces in his hands from all the anger pulsing through his veins.

Jesus, Harry, neither one of you can take a joke. Does she not understand that all of this is for the press? She keeps acting like we’re a couple.”

“Could you really blame her after that? ‘He invited me last night,’ you’re really getting a kick out of making her uncomfortable, aren’t you?”

He grumbles as he takes a long sip of his wine, hoping that the alcohol loosens his muscles enough to restrain himself from doing anything he regrets. He loves his mum too much to start an argument during her birthday party, and as much as Kendall’s shifting Harry’s mood, he still appreciates her as a friend to ruin anything.

“That wasn’t even my fault, you both dug into that way too deep. Last night does not mean while we were fucking. It’s a time of day.”

“It’s the way you said it.”

“Are you being serious, Harry?”

He slams his glass down on the island, grumbling under his breath while he stands up from his chair. No matter how much anger is in him now, the only thoughts swirling in his brain are wondering if Y/n’s okay. She would have never left the party to go into a secluded room, not even if her dad called her.

“You leave her the fuck alone, Kendall. I mean it.”

He storms away from her, desperate to find Y/n because God only knows what’s really happening in that bedroom. Y/n’s emotions and feelings are always positive, always so bright, and he refuses to be the reason they turn upside down. She doesn’t deserve all he keeps doing to her, she doesn’t deserve him.

When Harry nearly swings himself onto the first step, he can already hear the soft murmur of Y/n’s and Anne’s voice, which makes him stop from approaching them any more than he has already.

“Y/n? Y/n, darling?” Anne asks with worry when she sees Y/n climbing up the top step with tears in her eyes, soft cries falling from her throat as her hand attempts to silence them.

She reaches an arm out for her, tugging at the front of Y/n’s dress slightly to get her attention. She’s grateful it was Anne who found her this way instead of any other guest at the party, considering nobody besides her and Harry have seen her with a frown on her face.

“Y/n, baby, what’s going on with you?”

The lights are off in the hallway, with no guests permitted in the area, which gives Y/n the proper time to fully allow her tears to fall down her cheeks.

“I’m so s—sorry, Anne.” Y/n cries.

Anne’s hands rub her shoulders, reassuring her that there’s absolutely nothing for her to apologize for. It also lets her know that she’s willing to listen to her, no matter where or when—she’ll always be there.

“I’m almost 24, Anne, and I’ve put so much of my life on hold for him.”

She knows instantly who Y/n’s talking about. It wasn’t difficult to notice the undying connection between Y/n and her son, especially as the years went on. They have grown so strongly together, there has never been a doubt in Anne’s mind that Y/n is going to be the girl Harry ends up marrying. Everyone in the family called it a destiny waiting to happen, but it has been so long since anything has happened between them, and Anne can’t help but feel heartbroken to know Y/n’s carrying the wrong idea about him and Kendall.

“And I’ve sacrificed so m—much to continue waiting for him, but I don’t think I can keep doing this anymore. We’re nowhere near where we should be, especially when he keeps spending time with Kendall and I just—I just don’t know if I can—“

“Oh, my darling.” Anne sighs, cradling Y/n’s head against her shoulder as she rubs down her back.

She shushes her through her tears, rocking her slightly in an attempt to calm her from her cries. It’s extremely rare for Y/n to feel upset, so when she does so, Anne knows she deserves all the comfort and love she can get.

“I know you so well, and I know my son. I always knew you were a match made in heaven, my dear. I knew from the start you were more than just an ordinary girl. You’re so special, to everyone in our family, but especially to him. He may not have his head screwed on right most of the time, but if I can promise you anything with all my heart, it’s that he loves you. Please, no matter what, never forget that.”

Y/n nods against her shoulder, thanking her through her violent cries before Anne insists she takes some time to herself. And as much as Y/n wanted to refrain from going into Harry’s bedroom, it’ll be the only place that brings her a sense of comfort.

Harry already knows he’s in for a lecture the second he sees his mum coming down the stairs with bewildered eyes. She grips his shoulders, her face tight with frustration.

“Mum—“

“You go over to her and you be the man I taught you to be, Harry.”

Harry’s eyes widen at her words, swallowing thickly at the thought of disappointing another person in his life.

“She loves you and you love her. Stop doing favors for other people and start thinking about you before you ruin both of your lives forever. You hear me?”

Harry nods feverishly, determined and more motivated than ever to fix all that he’s caused. Love comes first, always, and he needs to remember that before he breaks Y/n’s heart completely.

She’s it. She’s all that matters to him.

He barely responds to Anne before he’s racing to his old bedroom, completely clueless as to what he’s going to say, but willing to do anything to get her back.

“Y/n?” Harry calls through the door of his old bedroom. “Y/n, can I come in?” 

He knocks on the door lightly, just using the knuckles of his pointer and middle finger. He hears her feet pad over to the door, opening it to reveal her tear stained cheeks. Her hands are trembling against the knob, her breath broken with soft, gentle cries. Her eyes are widened with sadness, wet and red from tears she barely ever cries.

“Y/n.” He whimpers, tentatively reaching his shaking fingers up to her cheeks. He wipes away the tears from the bottoms of her eyes, sighing upsettingly as her eyes close at his touch. “Never seen you like this. Please talk to me.”

Her lips quiver as another sob rips through her, her hand reaching up to capture his between her fingers. Her saddened and wet eyes looking down at the intertwined hands now resting against her lap.

“I’m so tired, H.” She whimpers, “So tired.”

His lips press against her forehead, “I know, love. I know.”

She wraps her arms around him, her face burying in between his chest as he lets her tears soak in his undershirt.

“I couldn’t take it anymore. I thought I’d finally be alone with you after all this time. I missed being close to you, I wanted to be closer to you and I thought you felt the same about me and I didn’t understand, Harry, I didn’t get it and—“


“Hey, relax for me.” Harry mumbles, his lips grazing tenderly along her cheek.

She takes a deep breath, her fingers fisting the back of his suit tighter in her fists. She rests her chin on the top of his chest, tears still roaming down her face as she lets out an exasperated sigh. Her fingertips trace patterns on his back, her eyes fluttering closed as he pushes some of her hair off of her face, refraining them from sticking to her wet cheeks.

“I didn’t get it,” she whispers, “I was so confused, and when you didn’t answer my calls or texts I thought you didn’t find me important. And I was under no right to be upset about it, because you’re busy and you have priorities. But when I saw you today, I didn’t see you as the Harry I always have, I still can’t tell you what I saw but I wanted every part of you more than I ever have before. But when I saw Kendall I—“

Her cries and words die down when she feels Harry’s tender lips against hers. She’s taken aback at first, and before she has any time to really kiss him back, he’s already pulled away.

“Let me fix this.” He breathes out, “let show you that I only want you.”

His lips press against the side of her mouth, not allowing himself to kiss her the way he wants to until she lets him. They then begin to travel down her neck, along her jaw, around her mouth.

Y/n’s breath is stiff as he does so, embracing the feeling of his mouth against her skin. They’ve only ever kissed a handful of times, none of them being passionate or loving. They’ve shared pecks while saying goodbyes or after confessing their feelings, but none quite like this—none quite like the one anticipating to happen.

His breathing his hard when he continues to kiss along her skin, his fingers moving longly in her hair the more his mouth presses against her.

“Will you let me?” He whispers when his lips are ghosting over hers, “this okay?”

She nods feverishly, hitting the point of desperation when she feels his breath fan over the skin of her face. She’s been needing this for far too long now.

“Yes, please.

His thumb runs over her bottom lip one, two, three times before he finally leans in. Their lips mush together passionately, only breaking apart to move their position before locking again. Their tongues meet in the middle, making the both of them moan at the unfamiliar spark coursing through their veins.

Harry walks toward his bed until Y/n’s knees hit the edge of it, making her back meet the mattress. Their lips haven’t detached once, not daring to break away from the feeling they’ve both been deprived of.

They’re both making out on Harry’s childhood bed, grinding onto each other half naked like two hormonal teenagers. Their clothes thrown across the room, lips swollen from all the suction and nibbling, and hair completely knotted from either of their fingertips, the party below them long forgotten.

“Wait, wait wait wait!” Y/n gasps, lifting herself off of his chest.

Harry’s chest rises and falls rapidly, trying to catch his breath as he looks up at Y/n in confusion. He watches as a smirk lifts from her lips as she peers down at his flushed face, giggling slightly at his complete fucked out appearance.

She notices that his lips remained stained from the red wine—a little faded—but still making her body weak at the sight of it.

“’s the matter?” He croaks.

His voice is thick—an entirely different level of raspy, and Y/n wonders how she’s lived so long without hearing him speak in that way. Between all the kissing, all the touching, all the moaning, his voice has a particular roughness to it that Y/n could feed off of if she had to.

“We shouldn’t do this, right? I mean, we’re about to fuck during your mum’s birthday party. Your entire family and Kendall are downstairs, anybody could walk in at any second, or hear us, and your mum could find that so disrespectful and—“

Her rambling is interrupted by his lips, meeting hers passionately between her words.

There is no way in hell he’s leaving this room tonight. Everything that’s been stagnant between them is finally moving in the right direction, and he can’t find it anywhere in him to walk away from it.

“You think I’m letting you go now?” He whispers, his thumb running along her bottom lip. “I have been waiting for this moment with you since high school, sweetheart.”

His lips reattach to her neck, sucking on spots he hasn’t already left marks on, soaking up every bit of the time he has with her before it’s over. This is the first time they’re going to make love, and he wants to feel and remember every bit of this moment.

“B—But your mum—“ She moans, her fingers nearly tangling at the ends of his hair as she hisses in pleasure from his tongue.

“Every single person downstairs knows about us. This—this happening right now, has been expected to happen since I first brought you home. I guarantee you, nothing will make her more happy than knowing her son and his future wife are finally acting on our feelings instead of pushing them to the side again.”

His words make Y/n blush like no other; her cheeks turning the shade of pink on her dress she wore previously. It’s then he notices just hot fucking pretty she is in pink, how every tint of the color compliments her in ways he can barely wrap his head around.

“Future wife, hm?” She smirks, tapping the pads of her fingers against his bare collarbones.

He kisses her again.

“Thought you knew that, love. Wouldn’t know a single soul I’d rather spend the rest of my life with.” His fingers dig into her hips, “’s always been you.“

Y/n pushes Harry’s back against the mattress again, trailing her fingers down his torso. She giggles when his teeth clench at her touch, finding it almost irresistible to embrace the way he responds to her touch so easily.

“Trust me, I always knew.”

Skyline {V}

Originally posted by hardyness

Warnings: none

Pairing: Peter Parker x reader

Word count: 3k

A/N: So I originally intended for this to be the last part of Skyline, but because things needed to be explained so much, the story is getting a bit longer than I anticipated.  For that reason, there will be a Skyline pt. 6!!  I almost wish there wasn’t, because I love the evenness and finality of five parts, but what can you do.  Special thanks to Zoe and Jen for helping me brainstorm ideas, and for giving me feedback!!  Also, just a reminder, I do not have a tags list!!  I really hope you guys enjoy pt. 5!!!

{part I} {part II} {part III} {part IV}

You really had no idea how Spider-Man did it.  How could he walk around in his civilian life, bursting at the seams with the secret of his powers, and not tell anybody?  How could he stay up half the night roaming the streets of Queens and keeping them safe?  How did he balance his hero responsibilities with those of a typical teenager?  You were sure that, if the radioactive spider had bitten you, you would not have been able to handle it like Spider-Man did.

You felt the change immediately when you woke up the morning after your night with Spider-Man. After crossing all those lines that the two of you had so carefully left uncrossed for months, you had stayed up almost all night, just talking (and also kissing a little bit?  But really, could anyone blame you?  He was a super hero).  Once Spider-Man had left around four am, you had had less than two hours of sleep once your alarm rang at six.  And by the time you made it to school, you had felt like death warmed over. That day had been a groggy fog of trying to stay awake and coherent until school was over, and you were tucked away in your cozy bed.

Keep reading

A Life Less Ordinary by Jebiwonkenobi

It takes a few years but eventually they manage to agree on something; Derek Hale is an asshole, and Stiles Stilinski is in love with him.


Burn by night by thebrotherswinchester

Sheriff Stilinski has been kidnapped by Alpha werewolves. As bait. For his own son.


Cupboard Love by mklutz

He’s carefully balancing the sandwiches and the two biggest tupperware containers he could find that both had functioning lids when the front door opens and he almost drops everything right there in front of the stupid fountain.

If that’s Derek Hale, he’s definitely not a mountain man.


Daddy’s Do’s by apocryphal

“Hi Mr. Stilinski!” Lydia said pertly. “My name’s Lydia, and this is my daddy. His name is Derek Andrew Hale and he watches all of your videos on YouTube a lot, but he still can’t braid.”

[Stiles is a celebrity YouTube hairstylist. Derek may or may not have a crush. Lydia just wants a French braid for school picture day.]


Everything’s Better Under the Sea by tryslora

Everything changes when Derek goes under while surfing, hits his head on a board, and sees a man with a tail swimming away. He wants to know who that was, and what it has to do with Beacon Hills, the one place he never meant to come back to.

Keep reading

Emotional Cheating

“Hiya love.”

Harry greeted from the doorway of your shared bedroom, his eyes looking discreetly at the clock that stated it’s 1 AM in the wee hours of morning.

“Told you not to wait up for me.”

He took his polo off that was slightly damp from his swear along with his jeans, leaving him in his boxers, going to the bathroom to wash his face and brush his teeth, feeling the extra fatigue come to his system once he felt fresh from having been tired in the studio and having a few drinks in the bar.

He went to your side of the bed and pressed a kiss on your cheek, a downgrade of what used to be a long kiss on your lips or a hug in where he’d nuzzle his face on the crook of your neck, completely inhaling your scent before pressing little kisses.

“How was your day?”

“’S good, finished some backing vocals. Had a few drinks with Nick and Kendall.”

Your stomach slightly felt queasy at the mention of her, but the feeling lifted for a second to realize that Harry’s your boyfriend, not her’s.

You weren’t blind to not see the older pictures of Harry and Kendall every time you scrolled down your feed of any social media account, nor the times Hardy made clear and evident that she was just a friend yet with him being a bit more talkative when she was there.

Yet deep inside you, you had the assurance that Harry loves you, yet not eaxactly as much as expressive as you are.

“You tired, baby?”

You asked, your hand going through his hair which made him release a sound of comfort, his head pressed upon your palm, humming out an answer you expected.


“Baby!”

You immediately relaxed once you heard Harry’s voice the moment he accepted your call, the bass of the loud music as his background not going unnoticed.

“Where are you, love?”

“O — oh! I forgot to tell you this morning! It’s Kendall’s birthday today!”

The plan of spending a special night with Harry crumbled underneath your fingertips, making you take a deep breath to control yourself.

It was supposed to be a night to be spent completely between the both of you, especially now that you were promoted a rank higher in your job, something that you’ve hoped for ever since the start.

“What time are you going home, H?”

He hummed, the image of Harry probably looking at his watch striking in your mind, making you wait anxiously.

“Maybe a few minutes after midnight? And Y/N, baby, I told you not to wait up for me. ’S the reason why you’re always tired in the morning.”

“God forbid I get tired, Harry. Wish her a happy birthday for me, will you?”

“Will do, love,” he almost shouted since he couldn’t hear himself through the music, the sound of his name being called by probably one of his friends being heard by the both of you.

“Okay. I love y-…”

You were cut short with the line being completely dropped, upsetting you maybe a bit more than it should, making you turn your attention to the drink in front of you.


“Cheating. They call it emotional cheating.”

“What?”

Harry’s eyebrows immediately furrowed from what you were saying, stopping himself from putting some clothes in his duffel bag that would last him for a day and in his toiletries, his attention completely turning towards you whose arms are crossed and standing in the doorway.

“Love, what the hell are you saying?”

He asked, nearing towards you and putting his hands on your shoulder, a concerned look on his face.

“Is this about your birthday tomorrow? Baby, I told you I would make up for it. You know I promised James I would come to his baby shower. Which happens to be in a yacht for a day.”

“Harry.”

“Y/N.”

“I would be lying if I tell you that I didn’t notice how invested you are in Kendall. Every time you see her, the picture; the conversations.”

Harry breathed out since he noticed you lately of you changing your habits slightly, of how your eyes looked tired.

Yet beyond that, he didn’t seem to notice on how much you compromised. On how much you adjusted your life around him so you could be simply with him.

“Love, it just happens that James invited Kendall too. It isn’t my decision.”

You stared at your feet, feeling the hollowness in your heart for what felt alike in the past few months, your hands being put on top of his shoulders.

“You love me, right?”

“I do.”


It was obvious.

The moment Harry appeared on the door from the night after James’ baby shower, he already knew that you knew it.

And in fact, you already knew it, if it wasn’t for the people tagging you on posts numerously that your phone blew up with notifications, nor the text James sent saying that he’s sincerely sorry because if he knew, he wouldn’t invite either of them and even scold Harry.

He was looking at you expectingly, the tears already flowing out of his eyes as his heart dropped on the sight of you sitting silently on the couch, cussing himself silently of how much he messed up.

“Please say something.”

His voice cracked, pleading for you to say anything, whether it would favor him or not because at that moment, the silence was killing him slowly. He knew how well you could give a silent treatment and remembered a promise to himself long ago that he wouldn’t cross you again because he hates it.

He hates every single bit of it.

“That’s a nice birthday present.”

His heart tightened of what she just said, regretting the things he’ve done faster than when he did it, fully knowing that you can’t and you’re not looking into his eyes.

“I’m giving you a choice. So you wouldn’t think of me as being selfish.”

You stood up, looking down the floor until your feet was a good ruler away from his shoes, making it as a basis so that you wouldn’t get close to him.

“Five days. First choice is I stay here and not talk nor do anything that has to do with me interacting with you. Second is that I stay in a hotel and we could talk. On the phone, one call. Five minutes a day.”

“Love-…” Harry cut himself short, clenching and unclenching his fist at the weight of the moment he carries.

“It would kill me to not either see you nor talk to you.”

You wanted to fight him with what he said, but you took off the urge, your gaze still fixed on the floor.

“Pick.”

Harry gulped, desperately wanting to fix what he caused in the first place.

“Y/N-…”

“Fucking pick.”

He knew it. He knew it better than anyone should to not break your trust. Especially when you cussed at him while fighting. And yet again, he brought it upon himself. The both of you suffering.

Harry hiccuped out his answer amidst his tears, feeling the pain sear right through his seams that he felt shitty to say the least.

“Second.”


Would he use his five minutes now?

It was less than thirty minutes after you left the house on the same day he went home, bringing yourself and nothing else but your car, your keys, your phone and your cash.

You figured that you would buy clothes in the mini boutiques the hotel has once the air gets too suffocating in your room.

You figured that you would rely on the hotel’s complimentary incentives for the toilteries.

You figured that you would have a drink or two from the mini bar they consider that’s in their mini refigerator.

Harry thought of it for a moment if it would be a good time to use his five minutes. Even better is what’s he going to say.

Your commitment is hanging on by five phone calls he’s going to make, your judgement, and maybe includes his prayers for you to be back on his arms.


2 | https://pendantstyles.tumblr.com/post/162186715656/emotional-cheating-2

here are a bunch of AMAZING fics I’ve enjoyed and loved reading throughout the month of august. I recommend that you read these great fics in september, if you haven’t already!! also check out the HL Summer Fic Exchange!

(all fics with a star are my favorites and if there are two stars then it was a favorite favorite)


1. How Far We’ve Come 32k

“This is Harry Styles,” Chiron offers.

He’s beautiful. His eyes are a stunning green, the color of new foliage. The new kid’s limbs are long and lanky—he looks extremely uncomfortable and uncoordinated. Louis internally smirks to himself, guessing the kid probably won’t be too skilled with a sword, or a bow, or anything sharp, most likely. His hair falls to his shoulders in sets of loose, brown curls. The color is rich and luscious, resembling soil so much that it looks like flowers could sprout from his hairline at any moment. But Louis’ eyes are stuck on his soft looking lips, pink as flower petals and slightly parted as his eyes scan the horizon of the camp.

“Welcome to Camp Half-Blood, Harry.”

2. It’ll All Come Up Roses 4k *

Louis was leaning against the railing of the bridge, looking down at the water completely lost in thought when he heard someone approach the bridge from the side that he came from. Glancing up, he noticed Harry walking towards him, hands stuffed deep in his pockets, and seemingly lost in thought. Louis shifted his weight onto his other foot and stood up properly, watching quietly as Harry walked past him. Louis opened his mouth. He wanted to say something to Harry to break the silence, or at least to get him to notice him standing there against the bridge railing - but the words got stuck in Louis’ throat, and he snapped his mouth shut, going back to staring down at the water mindlessly instead. All the while, trying hopelessly to figure out what the fuck he’s doing with his life. Harry kept walking, and soon Louis was once again left alone to his thoughts.

Or the one where Louis really doesn’t hate his neighbor who keeps waking him up at the crack of dawn. Ft magic, Liam, Niall, and Zayn barely being mentioned, Harry and his fucking motorcycle, a date and a kiss.

3. Freeze This Moment in a Frame and Stay Like This 5k

Harry (not so) secretly crushes on the cute footie player and fills pages with sketches of him.

Keep reading

Eight Months (part II).

You had been with Harry for two years when things started to go wrong. Like all normal couples, you had petty arguments and they usually ended with the both of you apologising profusely to each other and buying each other small gifts for forgiveness, but that was it. It never went any further than that, until the night you broke up.

You knew things had been wrong for a while, even though it hurt to admit it. Although you accepted Harry’s career, it was hard to be apart for months at a time. You both struggled to fit time around each other because of work and studying commitments, but you could both decided that you could and would handle anything life threw at you. Skype and FaceTime were your life savers and you used them whenever and wherever you could.

But in time, Harry became distant. He forgot little details about you; he forgot the smell of your perfume, he forgot about the little strands of hair that you could never tie back properly, and it was like he forgot how much he loved you. He soon started to forget about events that were taking place. Whilst you knew and understood that he couldn’t attend such events including your swimming gala and dancing competition because of the tour, he never bothered asking how they went. Instead, conversations that were once filled with passion and love, both interested and eager to learn about each other’s days, soon turned into silence down the phone, the occasional murmur here and there, before hanging up.

*

The clock ticked and the kitchen tap dripped and the rain pattered against the window. The tears rolling down your cheeks however, were silent, and the only noise your body could muster up was the occasional snuffle.

To say you were upset was an understatement. It was your birthday, and whilst it had never bothered you before dating Harry, you were now absolutely gutted that it coincided with London Fashion Week. Celebrities from all around the world had flown in and much to your dismay, that included Kendall, who attended with Harry.

When you had awoke that same morning, you thought maybe Harry was playing a trick on you, and that he was only pretending to have forgotten your birthday and would soon surprised you, but nothing. You had searched the apartment from top to bottom but to no avail, you found no hidden presents or anything that indicated a surprise for you. If you were honest, you didn’t really care for gifts or surprises; to spend the day with Harry was enough for you. But here you were, sat alone in the kitchen, whilst he was being paid to spend his precious time with another woman.

*

“It was a bit of a dick move, mate” Louis tells his best friend.

Harry sighs and shakes his head. “You think I don’t know that?!” he exclaims as he leaves the shop with the flowers he had placed on order as soon as he realised he’d fucked up. “These are alright, yeah? They’re all her favourites combined” he adds, gesturing to the beautiful bunch.

“H, I think it’s going to take more than a bunch of roses and lilies and whatever else is in there to make it up to her this time. She doesn’t expect a lot from you, you know that. She’s the least high maintenance chick I know. Hell, even Eleanor expects more from me than what (Y/N) does from you! I take El away for her birthday every year, we always do something nice. I wouldn’t dream of spending it with another woman” Louis tells his friend firmly.

“Fuck off!” Harry spits. “Management are the ones paying me, not you!”

“Whatever mate, but it’s your funeral. Didn’t you spend an evening with Cara a few weeks ago, when it was supposed to be a date night for you and (Y/N)? If you’re not careful, you’re going to lose her. Someone else will come along and treat her the way that you should be doing it now. Is that really what you want?” he asks.

*

“I don’t know how many more times I can apologise, baby” Harry begins, but you quickly hold up your hand in protest to stop him.

“Don’t!” you warn firmly.

Harry throws the flowers down on the table after your refusal to accept them. He shrugs his shoulders at your harsh tone. “What do you mean, ‘don’t’” he asks, quoting you.

You let out a sarcastic laugh. “Baby? You really think that by calling me pet names that I’m going to run into your arms and forgive you for forgetting my birthday, and worse, spending it with Kendall, of all people! How many other girls are you calling ‘baby?’”

“Oh don’t be so ridiculous, (Y/N)! I’m in a relationship with you, not anyone else!” Harry exclaims. “I’ve apologised, what more do you want me to do? Get on my knees and beg for your forgiveness?”

“There’s more than just us two in this relationship, Harry, and you know it. Me, you, management, Cara, Kendall. And that’s just to name a few! You’ve let me down so much the past couple of months. Do you even love me anymore?” you ask, dreading the answer as you softly chew your lip.

Harry scoffs. “Of course I fucking love you! I wouldn’t be standing here having this argument with you if I didn’t.” He closes his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose. “I don’t know what you want me to do or say, (Y/N).”

“It’s never going to change, Harry! Things will always be the same! You ‘forgot’ my birthday and you spent the day with Kendall. You ‘forgot’ our date night and you spent the evening with Cara. I know it’s what the media want and expect from you, and I know management want you to do this, but I think you want to as well” you sigh, the words you had held for so long in your mouth now finally spilling out.

“You’re joking, right? That was a joke? You seriously think I want to spend any spare time I have with Kendall or Cara over you? Management need me to do this, if I don’t, I can kiss goodbye to my pay cheque! Half the things I do in this job is for you! How the fuck else would you get the latest handbags and purses and shoes?! Who else is going to pay for your education? Because I don’t see you or your family offering to cough up!” he spits almost bitterly.

You gasp in shock at his words. He knew your financial situation at home and that your parent’s worked so bloody hard to provide for you, but it just wasn’t enough. Your future career depended on your qualifications, and those qualifications could only be acquired in higher education in which Harry had offered to pay for, before he knew anything about the money side of things.

“Really, Harry? That’s how you feel? You think I’m with you for the money? I don’t give a damn about the shoes or bags and purses or latest fashion trends. I love you because you’re my boyfriend and I see myself living the rest of my life with you. I don’t love you because you’re Harry Styles from One Direction!” you spit back, your words truthful.

“I’ve heard that one before” he tells you, his eyes averting to the floor.

“So now you’ve got trust issues with me? Other girls may have treated you like that in the past, but I’m not like other girls, Harry. Two years we’ve been together and you really think that of me? When you guys broke up as a band, and you didn’t know what was going to happen to your music career, who was the one sitting up with you every night holding you whilst you cried? Other girls would have run a mile because of the uncertainty of your future. I love you even if you have nothing!” you shout at him.

Harry shrugs his shoulders and bites his lip. “Look, it’s not even just this causing arguments. They’ve been going on for a while and maybe having Kendall and Cara as friends is something you can’t handle. But I can’t live my life like this anymore. I’m done arguing with you all the time” he tells you softly.

“You’re making it sound like I don’t want you having friends, which isn’t true. I want you to put me first, like you did at the start of our relationship. You would have done anything back then for me, Harry. I hate arguing with you too. Maybe if we arrange some sort of schedule and arrange dates in advance to see each other?” you suggest.

Harry shakes his head. “I think it’s too little too late, (Y/N).”

You frown, your bottom lip beginning to quiver as you ask the dreaded question. “Are you breaking up with me?”

Harry’s eyes avert to the floor once more and the silence between you both speaks more volumes than words ever could.

*

The first few months after the break up had been tough to say the least. You continued to work and study for the first couple, managing to get by. Once you finished work, you would go home and tuck yourself into bed and shut yourself away from the rest of the world. You neither needed or wanted any social interaction with anyone. You only wanted your own company, reminiscing over the fun times with Harry, overthinking each night what could have been done differently so as you wouldn’t be in this situation. Unfortunately, you could never answer that question. Nothing could have been done differently. You would have always ended up here.

A few months passed and life was getting a little easier, but the beauty of social media portrayed it to be a lot better than what it actually was. You were able to deceive your followers and the public that your life was good again because you were taking selfies at nightclubs and you were going out and having more fun. But you were still going back home to an empty bed with only a teddy bear to hold at night, whilst thoughts of Harry plagued your mind.

Within four months, you met someone new; Tom. You both met through mutual friends and instantly clicked. Whilst there was no original intention there, you quickly became friends. You took a few selfies, posting them onto social media sites, happier with your life. Tom was lovely; he was a young, handsome man, studying Law at the same university as you. He had ambition, as well as being fun, kind and caring, and within five months of the messy break up with Harry, you were officially dating Tom. Coffee dates, pumpkin picking, country walks, the typical couple dates that you would go on together, sharing your memories online.

You had plastered pictures of the two of you together all over social media by six months, but you weren’t portraying your life to be something it wasn’t. You were happy, genuinely happy, and whilst you weren’t in love with Tom, you loved him and could see yourself learning to be in love with him. The more time you spent with him, the more you learned about him, and the more you wanted to know him.

By the seventh month, things had changed. Tom had changed, and not for the better. You spent most of your time at his university flat with him, yet he still accused you of sneaking around behind his back, cheating on him. You would never cheat on anybody, it was against your principles and besides, you didn’t have the time to see anyone else between dating Tom, and going to work and studying. Small comments soon followed the accusations; he’d tell you that you needed to diet and join a gym, that you weren’t pretty enough or smart enough or good enough and that he could do better. Then he’d apologise and take you on a date and spoil you rotten. He would buy you flowers and gifts. “Please forgive me” he’d say. “I love you.” The next change was a push and shove here and there, moving you out of his way when he was angry. One night, he pushed you into a glass door. Your eyebrow split and you needed stitches. He vowed never to touch you like that again.

He lied.

Eight months into your relationship and Tom was putting his hands on you almost every night. No alcohol was involved, just his temper. Nothing warranted it, violence can never be condoned. Dinner wasn’t ready he got home? A slap across the face. His flat wasn’t tidy? A punch in the stomach. You went out with a friend? A black eye.

By this point, it was very difficult to maintain the lovely selfies you used to take. If you posted anything, it would be a cover up of how dreadful and controlled your life had become. You weren’t sure you could muster up the strength to even pretend that life was good anymore. Any bruises photographed would raise concerns and there would be unwanted comments posted on social media for the whole world to see, and you neither needed or wanted that. The less attention you drew to the situation, the better.

But tonight, nearing the end of eight months since breaking up with Harry, Tom had gone one step too far. The physical abuse was dreadful enough to experience and nothing condoned his disgusting behaviour, ever. Once your horrific ordeal was over, you ran. You refused to succumb to the darkness that had surrounded your limp body only moments ago. You ran as fast as your legs could carry you. You needed to get to a safe place. Somewhere close enough to get to, but safe all the same.

Harry.

He was all that was on your mind. How could he see you like this? Would he even be at home?  What if he was with another girl? Would he let you stay the night until things were sorted? Would he judge you? Would he pity you?

Oh, Harry.

You needed him. You weren’t sure that you could ever bring yourself to trust any other man in the world again, but Harry, you trust him with your life. He’s the only man you could ever trust, and your heart shattered into millions of pieces because the one man you really can trust, was also the same man who broke your heart eight months ago.

You pant hard, your heart threatening to pound out of your chest, but the adrenaline pumps around your body harder when you see the apartment alight. So close, so fucking close. As soon as you reach the door, there’s no hesitation in knocking hard and repeatedly. When there is nothing, you bang harder, your fists pounding at the door as tears stream down your face.

“Alright, I’m coming!” you hear his voice yell from inside the building and you know he’s getting closer to the door and your heart pounds harder and faster than ever before. He sounds angry, probably because it’s late and he’s probably working tomorrow but you need a safe space and right now, he’s the only person who can provide that for you.

It seems to take a lifetime, but the door is swung open and Harry’s demeanour changes within an instant. He goes from seemingly pissed off to looking like he’s about to vomit at the sight in front of him, with anger and pity and fear and worry evident in his eyes, emotions taking over his body.

“(Y/N)” he gasps out, catching your petite frame as you collapse into him. Wrapping his arms around you and embracing you tightly, he takes in your features, swallowing the lump formed in his throat. He know’s what’s happened to you and you know that he knows, and he knows that you know he knows, but for one split second as he holds you, no dialogue is needed.

Ripped Jeans

Im Jaebumx Reader

Word Count: 3.5k

Genre: Thigh Riding Smut

Summary: Jaebum had been thinking about a certain kink all day long, even when he shouldn’t have been

Author’s Note: Send all the holy water y’all have, and drink some yourself. We all need jesus.
Inspired by this:

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The Dozens of Times Eddie Kapbrak Came Home, and the One Time He Didn’t

(A Story in Sonia’s POV)


–There was the one time Eddie came home angry. Slamming doors, cursing under his breath. I was upset at the language, but more worried he’d catch a little finger, or a toe in the cabinets or doors. I asked why and he pushed me away. He had always been doing that lately. Am I being too much of a worrier? Maybe I am. He’s older now, and doesn’t need me as much. As much as that hurts to admit, seventeen is old enough to be independent. 


–He came home crying again. He’d been doing a lot of that, too. Something was different. He came to me for once. I was selfishly happy, but that left me when I saw him. He had a bruise under his left eye. His lip was cut, and his hands were shaking and red, a sign that he’d had a panic attack again. Those signs used to be foreign to me until he told me those weren’t asthma like I had thought for years. I’d like to think of myself as an almost expert on them now. The only thing hard for me to tell anymore is what might cause them. He has them so often. Eddie comes to me, and sits down, panting. He looks worn down and sad and resigned, as if he’s accepted a heavy fate, or like he was waiting for a piano to fall on him. 

This time when I ask him what’s wrong, he crumbles and starts to cry again. He tells me Henry and his psychopath friends cornered him in the locker room, and roughed him up. He shows me his ribs, and I see red. Partly the dried blood, partly rage. That little freak carved the word “Fag” into Eddie’s little side. It takes everything in me not to take him to the hospital, but Eddie insists he cleaned and dressed it as much as it needed, and it wasn’t deep, no stitches needed. I prayed with everything in me that it wouldn’t scar. When I asked him why they would choose that word, he becomes silent again. He seems to be trying to find the right words to say, and eventually he does. He tells me, stuttering more than the elder Denbrough boy, that it’s because they saw him kissing Richard Tozier. I had nothing to say, and he goes to his room before I could find the right words. I did eventually, over dinner. I tried to make a lighthearted joke, and said he could do better than little Richie Tozier, and that I loved him. He did laugh, but he also cried. This time it was the good way. 


–One time he came home excited, his feet barely touching the ground as he ran upstairs. I called out to him to get the door, but he was down just as fast heading out again. His cheeks are pink and his eyes are bright, and I can’t help but to think that just a few months ago this same boy was crying in shame over what had happened. He was a lot happier in general, due in part I suppose to coming out, but mostly Richard. Richie, Richie this, and Richie that. I almost wanted to tell him I was tired of hearing it, but his happiness wasn’t something I could get tired of. Despite being a trouble maker and a bad mouth, he did take care of Eddie. I did tell him to stop coming home with love marks- unsanitary and shameless little things. I tried not to think about the fact that he still probably got them where I couldn’t see them. He may be an adult next month but he’s still my little angel.

He tells me he’s finally going out on a real date, just the two of them. That they’re going to see a movie, and he tells me not to wait up. I know I’ll try to, but he always manages to come home after I fall asleep. Sneaky little boy. He tells me he’s already left the name, address, and number of the movie theatre on the counter, and that he’ll be with Richie who can be reached as well. I have his number in my Rolodex, as I do his parents, and the rest of his friends- you never know when you might need them. He kisses my cheek and practically skips out to the beat up truck Richard drives. It has a bench seat and the driver seatbelt doesn’t work most of the time, and I cringe thinking about Richie just sitting on it so he doesn’t get a ticket for not actually wearing it. Eddie promised me he’d never drive it, so at least there’s that. 


–He came home today, silent. It’s almost worse when he does that instead of crying. Eddie was pale, and he had dark circles under his eyes. I asked if he was okay, and he just stares at me. It feels like an eternity when he opens and says “The school won’t let Richie and I go to prom together… They said if we showed up they’d kick us out.” His voice sounds so fragile and small, like he doesn’t feel like a real person. I’m furious. I tell him I’ll call the school, but he begs me not to. He says it’s okay, he knew it would happen, that this is just the way things are. I, however, will not stand this. As soon as he goes to his room, I call his principle. I can’t remember exactly what I said, though I am equal parts embarrassed and proud to have used foul language in place of his name. “Mr. Shitstain” and I came to an agreement that they may attend as long as they are within a larger group. He will not allow them to have couple’s pictures, but he did reluctantly allow that they dance together. I tell Eddie in the morning and he cries and hugs me. He goes to Richie to give him good news. 


–He comes home after prom with a photo- the whole group is in it, all holding a sign that says “Loser’s Club”. I cringed at the name, but they chose it for themselves years ago. Eddie and Richie are next to each other, and I suppress an eye roll that Richard had ripped open his shirt to reveal an exclamation point painted on his pale abdomen at the last moment. The picture is slightly blurred, and Eddie confirms my theory when he laughs and says the camera guy was startled and tried to lunge at Richard to put all of his clothes back on. Despite this, I see the stars in his eyes. He is happy, so I am happy. 


–Lately he’s been coming home with heaps of papers, college letters, essays, SATs, tests. I try not to think about him leaving. I turn up the volume on the TV or the radio when he uses the phone to talk to his friends about it. It hurts and he knows it hurts. I’ve never been good at not worrying. This goes on for weeks. I fail to keep my tears in when he’s at school or out with friends, but at the same time, I’m immensely proud. He’s such a good boy. 


–This time he comes home, and he doesn’t say a word, and I can’t see him from the kitchen but I know something is wrong. His feet are dragging and his breathing sounds funny. I drop the spoon into the soup when I hear a crash. He’s laying on the floor and crying. Despite him being curled up in a ball I can see he’s covered in bruises and cuts, and bleeding badly. I try not to scream but when I rush to him I can’t hold it, he’s been cut up badly again, more words carved into his soft belly and his thighs. I can see the word “Queer” seeping through his khaki pantleg as he sobs. This time, he does need stitches. In many places. The only thing he says to me from the hospital bed is that he is oh so tired of this town. Richard never leaves his side, growling at anyone who causes him pain or wakes him up, like a wild animal. I’ve decided that I am incredibly grateful that he is who he is. 

He’s in the hospital for three days. Night one was cleaning and stitching and recounting what happened. The police had been called to file a report. He hesitantly confesses that Henry, Patrick, and the other cretins did this to him. Chief Bowers is red with rage. I hear him in the hallway calling my son a “flamer” but that his boy was “going to get it”. This is the first and only time I’ve yelled at a cop. Richie laughs and holds up his hand for a high five, something I wouldn’t usually reciprocate, but tonight is a night of firsts. Night two was observation and tests to see how bad the internal injuries might be. He has a concussion, but they found no internal damage aside from bruises and a cracked rib. They send him home wrapped in Ace bandages and taped up like Richard’s glasses. That night he tells me he needs to leave, that he can’t take this anymore. I’m angry, and admittedly irrational. We do not speak to each other for a week. 


–When we speak again, he walks in the door with Richie, William, and Michael. Out of his friends, Michael is my favorite despite where he lives being so messy. He brings me flowers and fresh fruits and vegetables. He washes them himself, but only once he gets here so I can see it. He’s a very well mannered and intelligent man. William is wonderful too, but I feel guilt in having trouble understanding him, and he has a habit of talking with his mouth full. He’s not as messy as Richard, so at least there is that. Eddie has healed nicely so far, most of the stitches are out already, and the scars he has, though sadly legible, are hidden under clothes. His lip and eyebrow have small scars, but they are hard to notice. The boys have folded boxes in their hands. I knew this was coming, but I still couldn’t bear it. I stubbornly told him I wouldn’t help him, and that I wouldn’t watch him either. He only nods his head, looking down. 

They pack up his belongings, and I step out into the yard, smoking my first cigarette in years. I swiped one from the Marsh girl months ago, when Eddie was starting to talk about college. I thought that was the worst, but this hurts more. He’s leaving too soon, and I can’t stop him. He promised me he’d finish high school, and go to college, but that he would not live here, in Derry. Because we weren’t completely speaking, I have no idea where he’s moving, and now I’m too embarrassed to ask. When I go back inside, William hands me a piece of paper, his handwriting surprisingly neat, with Eddie’s address, and number. He was moving just outside of the city, into the matchbox apartments. With Richard. I can’t help it. When he walks out of the front door with his things, he kisses my cheek. I can’t help it. When the car drives away, their silhouettes in the windshield. I can’t help it. I sit down on the porch, and I begin to cry. I can’t help it. 


–He doesn’t come in the door anymore. Not the way he used to. No angry slams, no excited pops as the door hits the wall. No silent entries when he’s tired. No little footsteps. He doesn’t come home. He visits, sometimes with Richard, and with his friends. He calls frequently, too. He’s a good boy. Time passes, and he came to visit after graduation. He got accepted to a college in Maine. I try to hide how happy that makes me. I promise I won’t go to the dorms too much. He and Richie talk about their lease ending and moving on campus. His little group of friends are trying their best to stick together. They all got accepted to the same school, and will try to attend until their majors take them elsewhere. It’s nice knowing that he’ll have so many friends. 

He doesn’t come home, but he visits. Holidays he even stays in his old room. Sometimes. Other times he stays with William in his new house, just down the street from mine. Sometimes they visit Richie’s parents, or Michael’s farm. It’s a lot like it used to be, but it isn’t the same. I know it never will be, and while I’m sad, I’m happy too. He doesn’t come home, but he gets married in the same church I was married in. They make the paper as the first same sex couple to get married in Derry. Someone booed them as they walked to their car, but before anyone said anything, Richard flipped them off. I don’t tell Eddie, but I caught it on camera. It’s framed in my room, shameful but endearing. He doesn’t come home, but he visits often, asking for advice. We’ll have lunch together and talk about stain removal, and he’s picked up cross stitching for Richard’s anniversary gift. He’s going to make a sign that says “Tozier-Kaspbrak” for their sitting room. 


He doesn’t come home, but he visits often. Many times with Richard, and even more happily with their new daughter. I’ve always wanted a daughter, so I spoil her rotten. I try not to be so overbearing as I was with Eddie. I know it had the wrong impression on him, and I don’t want her to feel the same. I give her sweets when they aren’t looking, and I teach her all about keeping a good home, and let her watch football with me when they need a babysitter. Eddie doesn’t know, but sports are a guilty pleasure of mine. I want her well rounded, too- to know that girls can like whatever they please. Her name is Amelia Isabelle, and she grows so fast. He doesn’t come home anymore, not like he used to. And I’m so, so grateful. He’s leading a good and proud life, and I’ve never been more proud to be the mother of Edward Tozier-Kaspbrak. He doesn’t come anymore, but when he visits, it’s like he never left at all. I’ve lived a good little life, I feel.



“Sonia Kaspbrak, 65, passed in her sleep in her home of Derry, Maine. Natural causes. She leaves her son, son-in-law, and granddaughter. Funeral to be held this Saturday, July 17th at the First Church of Derry. She will be fondly remembered by all who knew her. Everyone is welcome to attend the open service ceremony being held to celebrate her life. 
Thank you, 
Richard Tozier-Kaspbrak”

All I’ve got II pt. 3

Jungkook x reader

genre: fucking fluff, angst, hints of smutty actions, badboy!jungkook, bestfriend!jungkook

word count: 12.6k


Jeon Jungkook was a tall guy, handsome with all those ethereal artwork tattooed on his arms..and your best friend. He was by your side whereas you faced a painful heartbreak, caressing your hurt soul for as long as you needed him. But how much can a friendship withstand if one of the two develops feelings?

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What Did You Just Call Me? (Bucky X Reader)

Originally posted by totheendofthelinepal

MASTER LIST

PAIRING: Bucky Barnes X Reader
Warnings: Cursing, Violence & PDA
WORD COUNT: 2,712 
SUMMARY: The Avengers come back from a quick mission that ended well for everyone but Y/N. During the whole mission, Bucky babies Y/N since she’s new to the team. When they come back to headquarters she picks a fight with him leading to an actual fight. 


“I can’t believe you.”

“What I do now, Dollface?”

“Don’t doll face me!” Y/N storms out of the elevator with the rest of the Avengers following behind her, “You practically told me to wait in the car like I’m some five-year-old!”

“Well, if you didn’t act like a child then I wouldn’t treat you like one.”

Y/N’s eyes go wide by Bucky Barnes’s statement, somehow he’s able to make her even more pissed than she already is. The two heroes walk side by side further into the Avenger’s headquarter as they bark at one another. People around them notice steam coming out of Y/N’s ears and Bucky’s deadly gaze with the rest of the Avenger gang following behind them awkwardly quiet. Just that display makes everyone near the group go the opposite way. Y/N stops walking and points at her friend with a metal arm while growling in disbelief.

“Excuse me?! Bucky, you’re not my Dad-”

“Woah, save the kinky talk for the bed.”

Tony Starks blurts out making the two fighting look at him like they’re about to attack. James Rhodes sends his best friend a knowing look before shrugging and continuing to walk beside him. Natasha Romanoff and Clint Barton are walking behind Tony and James with bored expressions as if they been through this argument with each other before. Wanda Maximoff and Vision walk beside the assassins like they wanted nothing but leave the scene in front of them. Sam Wilson then sends Steve Rogers a glance silently telling him that maybe they should intervene but Steve just watches them like this is a casual conversation. Bruce Banner, Thor Odinson, and Peter Parker are the last ones to leave the elevator. All three look innocently confused on what is going on here. The whole team is decked out in their now dirty suits and used weapons. Sending Tony an irritated glance Y/N snaps with venom.

“Tony. For the last time, we’re just friends!”

“Could have fooled me.” He mumbles to himself making Y/N face go red causing him to raise his hands up in defeat and adding, “Sorry, my bad.”

“Sure you are.”

Y/N rolls her eye knowing he’ll make another joke about them in a minute. He’s been making comments like that ever since she joined the Avengers and grew a friendship with Bucky. She knows the group secretly thinks something is going on between the two them. That’s more because Bucky doesn’t make friends, Steve was the only person who qualified as a friend to Bucky before Y/N got into the picture. When Y/N joined she hit it off with everyone, more with the Winter Soldier than with anyone else though. It was a problem in the beginning since the group treated her like they had to keep her safe at all times but after a few weeks, everyone realized she didn’t need protection. Well, everyone realized that besides Bucky. Which is why they are at each other’s throats right now because during the whole mission the team was on only moments ago Bucky had treated her like another civilian. Chucking her gun carelessly on a couch near by Y/N shouts at Bucky without looking at him.

“I’m going to say this one last time, Bucky Barnes. I don’t need a fucking babysitter.”

“Why are you mad at me?” He looks around the building confused before saying with some serious guts, “It’s not my fault you’re fragile.”

“Oh shit.”

“God… Bucky… No.”

“Are you trying to get your ass kicked?”

“What did you just call me?”

Y/N shouts before flipping over a table and turning to face him with an unreadable expression, she’s never looked more deadly than right now. To be honest, no one besides Bucky really knows Y/N, she’s only been an Avenger for a few months now and she spends most her time with him. Nevertheless, it’s no secret that Y/N gets mad a lot, a least once a day she’s pissed about something. Yesterday it was because of her coffee split, today it’s because Bucky called her fragile but this was a different kind of mad that none of them have ever seen. It was close to when Bruce gets scary kind of mad and turns into Hulk. So out of a force of habit, the whole team stills and watches them with their weapons at the ready. The whole room is now empty of normal people, good thing too because at this moment Bucky and Y/N are wild cards.

“You’re calling ME fragile?!” Y/N snap as she shoves Bucky before pointing at Peter, “We have a fucking 12-year-old on the team and you’re calling me FRAGILE!”

“Hey…”

“Shut up.”

“He has powers, Doll. You don’t.” Bucky announces annoyed as he pushes his longish dark hair out of his face, “He’s been on the team longer than you too. All I’m saying is he has more experience-”

“WHAT!”

Y/N blurts out in such a deep and powerful tone that Thor looks at her in alarm while slightly raising his hammer. In anger, she then takes a handful of small knives and chuckles them harshly near Bucky. They all hit the white wall behind him, he doesn’t flinch and he doesn’t gain a scratch by her action either. He looks at her bored only making her impossibly more furious. Since she was born she was trained to survive anything and to do anything. Her whole life was about surviving any situation. She never got a day off her whole life until last year when Nick found her and gave her an offer to be a part of the Avengers. Storming toward him with her fist clenched she’s about to throw a punch when he grabs her wrist. When she tries to use her free hand he grabs that one too before she can do any damage to him. He spins her slickly around so her entire back is against his built chest. Lowering his head so his lips are right beside her ear when he whispers in a commanding tone.

“Stop being a drama queen and-”

Not letting him finish Y/N flips him over causing him to fall in front of her onto his back, everyone hears the sound of his back hitting the marble floor. He lays there for a second looking at her for a moment as if he underestimated her strength. With that thought he shakes his head knowing a little girl like her couldn’t be stronger than he’d expect, she’s rather short. The top of her head reaches his shoulder. Not only that but that means she’s been going easy with him in their workouts. They work out every morning and he’s never seen her throw something as heavy as him over her shoulder. Jumping up he turns around back to her with an easy going smile, she has her hip popped out and arms folded. Thor leans near Bruce and whispers into the silence with complete shock.

“I wasn’t informed that Y/N was the Queen of drama.”

“Not now, Thor.”

“Okay, okay, you had your fun.” Bucky sighs tiredly as he struts up to Y/N with a smug look, “You made a scene, flipped me over, so let’s just forget this whole little outburst and grab a beer. Dollface.”

“Don’t. Call. Me. Dollface.” Y/N threatens slowly before tilting her head knowingly and whispering, “HYDRA project.”

Bucky’s posture stiffen, he clenches his fists, his face is unreadable. Everyone in the room has a silent heart attack from Y/N’s cheap shot but he was just a moment ago doing the same thing. Bucky and Y/N face each other with the same dangerous expression. The two have fought plenty of times, usually to let off steam or for bragging rights but this was different. They were actually talking instead of just straight up punching. Their friends honestly didn’t know what to do, they were adults, they’re mature enough to resolve this themselves. Then again they both were mentally and physically messed up. Abruptly Bucky throws all his guns away from his person. A sly smile slips onto Y/N’s face at the gesture, she had just as much power over him as he did over her. Getting into her personal space Bucky tilts his head and whispers.

“You’re such a child.”

“Well, you’re such a cocky prick.”

Her words make him growl lowly while moving closers to her, she takes a few steps back but he takes more forwards. They play this game until Y/N’s back is to the wall and she can’t move. Bucky gazes looks hungry making Y/N question why she picked a fight with him. She always had to pick on with him, she fought with everyone in the Avenger but he was the only one to fight back. Maybe that’s why they were such close friends, she’ll tell him to fuck off and he would break into her room to figure out what’s wrong. She’ll tell him of course and he would do everything to fix it, even if he didn’t fix the problem she would feel 100 times better just by knowing her tried. This is different though, he’s not trying to fix it, it’s almost like he’s egging it on and Y/N’s prideful ass is taking the bait. Tilting his head to the side Bucky rests his hand on either side of Y/N’s head before saying with a smug look.

“At least I don’t pretend I’m not delicate.”

“That’s it!”

“You get Bucky, I’ll get Y/N.”

Tony speaks up instantly to Steve knowing Y/N is thinking irrationally right now. Just as Y/N shoves Bucky away and grabs a vase the guys go over to them in hopes to keep each other from killing one another. She throws the glass vase at Bucky causing him and Steve to duck, it hits the floor near their feet and it breaks into tiny pieces. Tony then grabs her by the arms just for her to flip him over like she did with Bucky earlier. He falls to the floor and she walks over him like he wasn’t even there. A coffee table is in Y/N’s way to Bucky so she easily kicks it out of her way to Bucky. The table slides unknowingly at the Avengers watching them. Some of the moves away and jump over it, Thor uses his hammer to break it and makes it impossible for the broken pieces not to hit his friends around him. Steve who’s pulling Bucky back sees the damage and says for the first time since he’s been frozen.

“Shit.”

Bucky hides a chuckle at the scene in front of him just before Y/N gets to him and punched him in the jaw. His expression goes from shock to mad within a second before pouncing on her. She moves and sweeps his legs before he can tackle her to the ground. He falls and she grabs a glass pot near a couch, she throws it at his laying form. He moves out of the way just a second before it hits the ground and breaks into a million shards. He groans in disbelief because he knows she was really aiming to hit him that time, jumping up he grabs the couch and slides it into her. She falls before she can throw a decorative plant at him. Letting out a heavy breath Buck realizes she’s more pissed than he realized and suddenly asks seriously.

“Are you seriously mad at me calling you delicate?”

“No, Bucky. I’m not mad, I’m just throwing shit for fun.” She growls as she jumps over the couch to get to him, “Of course I’m fucking mad! You’re like my best friend and you treat me like a burden!”

“Doll, you aren’t a burden-”

“Don’t call me that! And don’t you dare lie to me.” She spits out as she shoves him, well, he lets her shove him into the wall behind him, “Ever since I’ve joined you made it your job to baby me and I’ve had it!”

“I baby you because I don’t want you to get hurt!” He spins them around so he has her pinned to the wall as he explains in frustration, “I have not once seen you as some kind of burden to me or to the team.”

“Bullshit! Just admit it!” She barks as she tries to get out of his grasp, “You baby me because you see me as a problem.”

“Dollface… You have it all backward.”

Bucky whispers tiredly as he keeps his hold on Y/N so she won’t punch him. Steve helps Tony stand up behind the two by the wall. They glance at their other friends to make sure they are okay before looking cautiously at Buck and Y/N. Never have has any of them seen the two fight like this, they were always teasing each other or play fighting but never this. The team thought the two were too close to fight this badly. There has to be a more serious reason Y/N’s mad at Bucky, she usually is just annoyed when Bucky is overprotective of her. Maybe she doesn’t see it as being overprotective, maybe she sees Bucky trying to limiting her. That honestly wouldn’t surprise the team, they could tell Bucky likes being in charge of Y/N. Before the team can think any more of this irrational argument they hear Bucky mumble to Y/N so softly that could barely hear it.

“I try to protect you because I couldn’t handle you getting hurt.”

“Well, why don’t you baby Steve!” She fires back not exactly realizing what he meant, “I know you hate when he gets hurt but every time we’re out you-”

“Doll, you’re an exception.”

“It’s because I’m a girl, right? Let me tell you, you sexist-”

“No! For the love of God…”

He groans annoyed before throwing all caution out the window and slamming his lips to hers. She moans in surprise and her eyes go wide just as big as their friends. His hands loosen around her wrist letting her pull loose. Grabbing his shirt in the front aggressively she pulls him closer and shuts her eyes. He sighs in relief before leaning his body on her’s against the wall. One of Bucky’s hands goes to the small of her back to push her bottom half flush on his, this other weaves through her hair. She groans as she wraps her arms around his neck to pull him impossibly closer to her. Bucky begins pulling away from her causing her to follow him needingly. Chuckling Bucky gives her one last kiss before officially pulling away to look down at her. Biting her lip Y/N says breathlessly with the color pink coming to her cheeks.

“Oh… That’s why.”

“Yeah. That’s why, doll face.”

 “Well, well, well…” Their little bubble pops when they hear Tony say in a shit eating grin, “What I’d tell Y'all.”

Steve who’s standing right beside the millionaire playboy sends him an unamused look before punching him in the arm. He then turns to Bucky and gives him an easy wink making him look down to his feet before looking at the woman in his arms. Y/N opens her mouth to say something before the only kid in the room blurts out curiously.

“So who’s cleaning this mess up?”

Bucky and Y/N finally look away from each other, the team does the same and looks around. Everyone in the room realizes then it’s a bigger mess than they would have assumed. The coffee table, vase, and fake plant are broken into hundreds of pieces across the room. A couch and table are flipped over and in a weird position and a hand full of knives are in the wall along with a bunch of weapons scattered on the floor. Awkwardly Bucky and Y/N look back at each other, their little fight might have gotten too out of hand. Bursting out loud laughing the two look at each other like they should have expected this much from one another.