i was playing around and then it came out like this

FFXV Comrades: Prompto has arrived in “Lit-stallum”

Prompto: Is it me or has Lestallum turned into Lit-stallum?


Lit-stallum? *falls off couch* This boy is such a dork and I love him for it.

I actually had to stop attacking him because I didn’t want to knock him out before he petrified me…and then he started to actually hurt me lol I about died laughing after I came out of it though cause I knocked the shit out of him…like it was kind of overkill omfg LMFAO I am so sorry Prompto *hides*

And can I just say that I love how they played battle music from Episode Prompto during this? (I know they played music from Episode Gladio during his too but…when I heard the music start up for this I was like *flails around*)

Translation: FC Booklet #39 - Thank you confessions

Please credit to skysj4




Yabu to members
To Inoo- Thank u for announcing my name when I got lost at the ski grounds
(Inoo: Thankfully u didnt meet with an accident!)

To Chinen - When we went to eat ramen, even though I split carbonic drinks on Chinen’s clothes, thank you for smiling and forgiving me while saying “It’s okay”

To Yuto- Yuto, thank you for accompanying me to search for a new bicycle.

To Takaki - Seems like at the sauna I often go to, you look around restlessly and think “I wonder if Yabu-kun is here?” Thank you (laugh)

To Yamada- When I get drunk and say “Let’s sing karaoke endlessly”, thank you for accompanying me till the end

To Arioka- When you came to hang out at my house, thank you for looking happy while playing fireworks with me!

To Okamoto- When me and Yuri went iceskating and invited Keito, thank you for coming reluctantly (laugh)




Hikaru to members

To Inoo- Thank you for being born with such a cute face
(Inoo: U are welcome)

To Chinen - Thank you for replying “That’s interesting” even when I send silly video clips

To Yuto - Even though my weird faces have not changed since ten years ago, thank you for always laughing everytime I do a weird face

To Takaki - I was like an iron for more than 20 years who could not swim, but last year thanks to you, I can now swim.

To Yamada - No one else can probably say this out, but thanks for being the only one to point out “Your clothes are really unfashionable”!

To Arioka- When I was into survival games, thank you for gathering all the members to go together!

To Okamoto- When JUMP was just formed, Keito would buy me a can of coffee and say “Sorry Hikaru-kun” when he was late for meetings. Thank you. But now when I think of it, if you had time to buy coffee, come earlier!  



 

Members to Yabu
Chinen: Thank you for always accompanying me to eat pork

Yamada: Thank you for taking the headstart to think of the concert production, and saying “Consult me about anything”

Yuto: When I feel sad, the first one who smiles at me before anyone else is Yabu-kun. Thank you.

Hikaru: Even though when I am in a weird mood and annoyingly interact with you, thank you for returning that interaction by going “Uee~h!”

Takaki: Thank you for telling me that “saunas are good!”

Okamoto: Thank you for teaching me about Japan politics

Inoo: In the past, when I couldn’t decide how to use my New Year money, thank you for encouraging me and saying “Buy this game”. I spent all my money (laugh)

Arioka: When we went to watch soccer together, thank you for explaining the match to me

Takaki: I understand that! Watching soccer with Yabu-kun is the most fun ever!

Yabu: I am really happy with those words!



Members to Hikaru
Takaki: When I say “I don’t feel quite well”, thank you for passing me a lot of health supplements and drinks and saying “Drink these!”

Okamoto: When I have a headache, thank you for giving me headache medicine.

Arioka: When I am busy, thank you for being concerned and saying “If you feel like you are going to fall sick, I will give you amino acid”

Yuto: Is Hikaru-kun everyone’s pharmacy?

Yabu: When I was involved in a stageplay alone, he gave me two oranges and said “You definitely lack of vitamin C!”

Inoo: During my stageplay, he gave me propolis spray. But actually the one in JUMP who falls sick easily is Hikaru… (laugh)

All: Ahahaha!!

Hikaru: That is why I am sensitive to other’s health! (laugh)

Yamada: What should I do.. I don’t have any episodes regarding medicine where I can thank Hika. This year during my birthday, thank you for testing wine and then giving it to me as a present. It was delicious.

Yuto: Even though it was just a temporary trend, thank you for giving the members a hand spinner.

Okamoto: Speaking of that, I didn’t get one!

Chinen: On my birthday, thank you for giving me a necklace and saying “I bought two of the same one by mistake”

so a traveling shakespeare troupe came to my school today and performed romeo and juliet and it was just so good and

-the actor playing romeo was hella short and the actor playing benvolio was hella tall. at several points he just picked romeo up and moved him around the stage/out of his way.

-when the nurse delivered juliet’s letter they played it up like she was flirting with mercutio but mercutio just looked at her, wrapped his arm around benvolio, and more or less gave her an expression that said “i’m gay”

-when mercutio and benvolio were making fun of romeo for being Heterosexual™ (aka for loving juliet), benvolio picked him up and mercutio gave him a purple nurple

-juliet wore no shoes throughout the entire show except during the wedding when she wore these giant sparkly pink pumps with platform heels

-when mercutio gave the queen mab speech they had benvolio stand behind him and click castanets and go “ooooooooh” every time he dropped a dramatic line

-they had friar lawerance and the nurse say the prologue and the end lines and like…..that changed the impact of the lines and their character significantly. i’ve made a post or two about this before but i personally interpret romeo and juliet as a story about two kids too afraid to come to their parents with a problem because they’re afraid of repercussions. but what about the adults in their life that DID try to help with them with their problems, but still ended up failing them? let’s just say it hit hard and was very telling when the friar and the nurse choked out the last lines of the play while sobbing.

-whenever there was a fight scene, mercutio and benvolio were constantly trying to keep romeo away from the action, as if he was their younger brother who they didn’t want to get hurt in a brawl. during mercutio’s fight with tybalt, benvolio was shielding romeo with his body and physically picked him up and held him back at times. that really changed the dynamic of the three of them and made it even funnier when ben and merc were teasing romeo about his crush on juliet.

-romeo killed paris by hitting him on the head with a flashlight

-the apothecary that sold romeo poison was dressed up as your typical TV drug dealer and he acted like one as well

-while benvolio more or less disappears from the written play after romeo is banished, they kept him around this time and he followed romeo around to make sure he was okay but didn’t say anything. it was implied he didn’t talk because he was still grieving mercutio. (he also wasn’t there when romeo killed himself)

-i was watching it with a bunch of freshmen who hadn’t read the play before but when juliet killed herself nearly half the room started screaming because they were so shocked

honestly this cast was just so good. i’ve also seen them perform julius caesar set in a modern politician’s world and m*cbeth in a post-apocalyptic setting. i absolutely loved this production and i hope i can see more of their work soon

Notes to the girl whose house I live in

by reddit user JJX2525

It took me a week to find where you keep your wifi password. A whole week! I was really worried you’d thrown it away, but lo and behold, there it was in the cutlery drawer of all places. Everything about the way you organize things confuses me. I guess because you live on your own now you just put things any old place. I know there was someone else before, I heard you talking about him on the phone. Johnny, I think? Jimmy? Anyway, I know because you said it was tough being alone. But you’re not alone, of course. You have me!

Keep reading

Everyone Lived.

Everyone lived. When Harry was born, Lily hardly saw him because Sirius was fitting him into a tiny leather jacket, Remus was reading to him, and James was already trying to sneak him to the Quidditch supply store to get Harry his first toy broom. Christmases were spent with full bellies and rooms stuffed with laughter, and there wasn’t a single person without flushed cheeks from all the wine. Lily’s eyes sparkled, and there was always a joke on the tip of James’ tongue. All Harry knew was love, love, love, from every corner of the universe.

Everyone lived, and every Thursday afternoon, Sirius and Remus took Harry to the “library”, which was the secret word they taught him for the ice cream parlor. With each trip, they ordered the biggest sundae that was offered with three spoons, and Harry always ate nearly all of it. They kept it up until the day Harry asked Lily to take him to the library and, when confronted with the shelves piled high with books, he asked her where they went to order their ice cream.

Remus and Sirius got married when Harry was three, and Harry was the ring bearer. Lily cried the first time she saw him in his tiny dress robes. They were just long enough that he nearly tripped halfway up the aisle. There wasn’t a single pair of dry of eyes in the audience that day.

Everyone lived, and on Harry’s sixth birthday, he celebrated alongside Neville with all their friends and family. James gave Harry his first set of toy Quidditch balls. He, Ron, Neville, Draco, and Ginny all played together until Draco pushed Neville off his broom and into the cake Alice had spent hours working on. Lily tried so hard not to laugh at Neville’s frosting-covered face, but instead she went beet red and gave herself away to everyone.

Draco said he was sorry. He actually meant it.

Everyone lived, and the moms had a Lockhart book club, which consisted of everyone getting wine-drunk and complaining about their husbands together. Draco, Neville, Harry and Ron eavesdropped and reported back to their dads, who were standing around the kitchen armed with beer, about what they did wrong that week. Each of the meetings somehow coincidentally ended with each of the men stopping by to bring their respective wives bouquets of flowers or boxes of chocolate “because they just felt like it.”

Everyone lived, and Draco and Harry were friends, believe it or not. When Narcissa and Lucius had a date night, they dropped Draco off at the Potters. James told them scary stories in the darkness of their blanket tent. Lily used magic to cast shadows all over their living room, and Harry and Draco wouldn’t sleep for the rest of the night. But Lily kissed each of their foreheads and assured them each that everything would be fine, because she and James would never let anything bad happen to either of them.

She meant it.

Draco and Harry stayed up until their eyelids were simply too heavy to bear, but Harry managed to remain awake till Draco was completely asleep before closing his eyes. It was one of the most peaceful things he’d ever seen. He wasn’t exactly sure why he thought that. Not yet, anyways.

Everyone lived. Everyone got a little bit older. The kids all went off to Hogwarts, somehow managing to stuff themselves all into one train compartment, even with Hermione once she joined. Draco and Harry got put into different houses, which was a relief to everyone around them. “they already bickered like a married couple without rooming together,” Ron said when they were first sorted, “I don’t want to think about what we’d have to deal with if they were sharing a dorm.”

The only time Harry and Draco forgot about their friendship was when they played against each other in Quidditch. There were no rules when you needed to be the first one to the snitch.

(I suppose there weren’t any rules when it came to making out with your best friend in an empty corridor after drinking half a bottle of fire whiskey, either.)

Sixth year came with sly glances and brushing fingertips in the hallway; throwing all caution to the wind and risking friendship for feelings Harry and Draco had been denying since they were kids. Ron and Hermione exchanged knowing looks, but no one said a word. Not even when Harry inconspicuously crept out of bed nearly every night at half past two with his Invisibility cloak in tow, not returning until the sun was just peeking out over the mountains, if at all. He looked happier than ever that year, secrets tugging on the corners of his mouth every time he spoke.

Everyone lived, and when Draco and Harry came out to their families their seventh year, everyone groaned. “You owe me ten Galleons,” was the first thing James said to Lucius, and Harry knew then that everything was going to be okay.

Because everyone was here, surrounding him, breathing, alive. They all hugged him and Draco at once, cheeks smooshed together, a mess of laughter and “I love you’s” and kisses on foreheads. They were all connected then, their pulses stitching them together with a bond Harry knew nothing could break.

They all knew hurt; they knew pain and suffering, and they knew loss, but most of all, they knew each other. They knew love, and they knew hope.

As they stood there, a giant amoeba of people from all walks of life, some more challenging than others, Harry let go of the breath he felt as though he had been holding for his entire life.

Tom and Lin-Manuel: An Appreciation/Jealous Rant

Every writer has a golden period – a chunk of time when her brain is ripest, when the veins he is tapping are the richest, when the ideas, big and small, spill out over the sides of the bucket instead of having to be patiently collected like drops of rain off a leaf. This is true for songwriters, playwrights, novelists, screenwriters, anyone who writes anything in any genre. Go look at John Hughes’s IMDb page and marvel at his golden period, which I would bookend as 1983-1990. It’s outrageous. He wrote Vacation, Mr. Mom, Sixteen Candles, The Breakfast Club, Weird Science, Pretty in Pink, Ferris Bueller’s Day Off, Some Kind of Wonderful, Planes, Trains, and Automobiles, Uncle Buck, and Home Alone in eight years. Eight years?! That’s absurd.

But then look at his next 20 years. You won’t find one movie that is better than the worst one he wrote in those seven years. The vein ran dry. It always does. That’s just the deal.

Tom Petty’s golden period never ended. Or, at least, the silver periods on either side of his golden period were seemingly infinite. No matter where you think he peaked – Full Moon Fever, or Wildflowers, or Damn the Torpedoes – the decades on either side were wonderful. He was great from the moment he released his first album in 1977 to the day he died last month. For forty years he wrote, and wrote, and wrote, and the songs he wrote were good or great or amazing.

Tom Petty wrote “Breakdown” and “American Girl” in 1977. He wrote “You Don’t Know How it Feels” seventeen years later, in 1994. He wrote “You Got Lucky” in 1982, “King’s Highway” in 1992, “The Last DJ” in 2002. He wrote “I Won’t Back Down,” “Runnin’ Down a Dream,” Free Fallin’,” “Love is a Long Road,” “A Face in the Crowd,” Yer So Bad,” and “The Apartment Song,” and “Depending on You,” all in 1989, and they were all on the same album, and that’s absurd.

He wrote “Stop Draggin’ My Heart Around” in 1981 and “Big Weekend” in 2006. He wrote every song on Wildflowers – and they are all great – in or around 1994. He wrote fifty other great songs I haven’t named yet, like “Don’t Come Around Here No More” and “Jammin Me.” He wrote great songs you’ve heard a million times, and great songs you’ve maybe never heard, like “Billy the Kid” (1999) and “Walls” (1996) which was buried on the soundtrack to She’s the One.  He took a break from the Heartbreakers and casually released “End of the Line” and “Handle With Care” and “She’s My Baby” with the Traveling Wilburys in 1989-90. He wrote “Refugee” in 1980 and “I Should Have Known It” in 2010. Is there any rock and roll songwriter alive who wrote two songs that good, 30 years apart? (Paul McCartney wrote “Hey Jude” in 1968, and only 12 years later he wrote “Wonderful Christmas Time,” which is so bad it nearly retroactively undid “Hey Jude.”)

He wrote about rock and roll things, like ’62 Cadillacs, getting out of this town, and dancing with Mary Jane. He wrote about love and loss and heartbreak. He wrote legitimately funny jokes, and moribund memories, and personal narratives, and imaginative flights of fancy. One of his characters calls his father his “old man” and it somehow isn’t cheesy. He was from Florida and California and wrote about both of them, and every time I’m on Ventura Boulevard I think of vampires, because the images he wrote are indelible. 

Petty didn’t just write songs directed at women, like most rock stars. He wrote about women, and he wrote for women, and he wrote with women. He treated the women in his songs as lovingly and respectfully as he treated the men. He cared about them as much, he spent as much time thinking about them, and he liked them as much, and all of that is rare.

He wrote simply, but not boringly. He made his characters three-dimensional, somehow, in a matter of seconds. There’s a famous (probably apocryphal) story about Hemingway bragging he could write an entire novel in six words, then writing: “For sale: baby shoes, never worn.” I prefer the 18-word novel Petty wrote as the first verse to “Down South” –

Headed back down south
Gonna see my daddy’s mistress
Gonna buy back her forgiveness
Pay off every witness

When I was working on Parks and Recreation, whenever we needed a song to score an important moment in Leslie Knope’s life, we chose a Tom Petty song. It started with “American Girl,” when her biggest career project came to fruition. It was “Wildflowers” when she said goodbye to her best friend. It was “End of the Line” at the moment the show ended. For the seven seasons of our show, Tom Petty was the writer we trusted to explain how our main character was feeling, because he wrote so much, so well, for so long.

*******

It seems like a joke, Hamilton – a joke in a TV show where one of the characters is a struggling New York actor, and is always dragging his friends to his terrible plays. Like Joey in Friends. There’s an episode of Friends where Joey is in a terrible musical called like Freud!, about Sigmund Freud, and you get to see some of it, and it’s predictably terrible. Freud! the musical is arguably a better idea than Hamilton the musical.

I’m far from the first person to say this – I’m probably somewhere around the millionth person to write about Hamilton, and the maybe 500,000th to make this particular point, but it needs to be said – a hip-hop Broadway musical about the founding fathers is an astoundingly terrible idea. Lin-Manuel Miranda should never have written it. As soon as he started to write it, he should’ve said to himself, “What the fuck am I doing?!” and stopped. And after he got halfway through, he should’ve junked it, gotten really drunk, and moved on with his life, and made his wife and friends swear to never mention the weird six months where he was trying to write a hip-hop musical about Alexander Hamilton. I literally guarantee you that when Lin-Manuel Miranda first told his friends what he was writing, every one of them reacted with at best a frozen smile, and at worst a horrified recoiling. Some of them might have been outwardly encouraging – “sounds awesome bud! Go get ‘em!” But then later, alone, they would call each other and say What the fuck is he doing?

There is a moment, in Hamilton, when what you are watching overwhelms you. (It’s not the same moment for everyone, but most everyone has one, I suspect.) It’s the moment when the enormity, the complexity, the meaning of it, the entirety of it, overpowers you, and you realize that what you are experiencing is new – new both in your specific life, and new, like, on Earth.  The first time I saw it, that moment was a line in the middle of “Yorktown.” Hamilton sang the line And so the American experiment begins / With my friends all scattered to the winds, and I burst into tears in a way I hadn’t since I was 10 and a baseball went through a guy’s legs in the World Series. Something about how casually he says that – And so the American experiment begins – just settled over me, like a collapsing tent, and this thing I was watching wasn’t in front of me, it was everywhere around me, and it was exhilarating and transformative.

(If I could put this part in a footnote, I would, but I don’t know how to, so: I should mention that I am very far from a musical theater aficionado. I have seen maybe eight musicals in my life. Not only did I not expect to cry, hard, during Hamilton, I did not expect to enjoy it. I saw it like a week after it opened on Broadway, kind of on a whim, knew nothing about it, and the last thing I said to my wife, as the lights went down, was: “We’ll leave at intermission.”)

The second time I saw it, that moment came much earlier (I knew what I was getting into, this time, so I was more ready to be subsumed). It came barely three minutes in, when the entire cast of the show, in a piece of choreography that can best be referred to as “badass,” all walk down to the very front of the stage and stand, shoulder to shoulder, and sing very loudly about how Alexander Hamilton never learned to take his time. The cast has, to this point, trickled on stage, slowly, one by one, telling you Hamilton’s origin story, and then suddenly there they all are, all of them – maybe 20? 50? It seems like 1000? – as close to the audience as they can get, and they are every size and ethnicity and gender, and their voices are loud, and I thought to myself, oh my God, this is a cast of people descended from every nation on Earth, all singing about the foundations of the American experience, and yes I “knew” that, intellectually, but holy shit, now that I see them all, I know it, like in my stomach, I understand it, and what a thing that is.

The third time I saw Hamilton, that moment was during “It’s Quiet Uptown,” when this enormous, sprawling, improbable, otherworldly, multi-ethnic, historical, art tornado presses pause on all of its historical-cultural-ethno-sociological-artistic investigations, and spends four and a half spare minutes with a couple who are grieving an unimaginable tragedy.  Specifically, it was the lines

Forgiveness
Can you imagine?
Forgiveness
Can you imagine?

What a thing to do, for your characters – to give them four and a half minutes in the middle of an enormous, sprawling, historical swirl, to just be sad. What a piece of writing that is.

(Again, should be a footnote, but: as long as I’m talking about writers here, I should point out that if the late Harris Wittels were alive, he would, at this moment, text me and hit me with a “humblebrag” for writing about how I have seen Hamilton three times, and he would be right. Miss you Harris!)

In the hundreds of hours of my life I have spent thinking about Hamilton since I first saw it – far more hours than any other single piece of art I have ever experienced – I have revisited that same thought over and over: he never should’ve written it. It was an absurd thing to do. It took him a year to write the title song, then another year to write the second song, and how did he not give up when two years had gone by and he’d written two songs?  He must’ve known in his heart it needed to be a 50-song, 2 ½-hour enterprise, and he had two songs after two years, and he kept going. How did he keep going? I’ve been trying to write this blog post about two writers I admire for different reasons since the week Tom Petty died, and I’ve almost given up five times.

At this point, the entire musical is that “moment” for me. It’s the whole thing, now – the thing that overwhelms me is the whole thing. The conception of it, the writing of it, the rewriting of it. The music and the motifs and the themes and the threads and the dramatic shape and the characters and their inner lives, and the eagle-eye writer’s view it took to keep all of that in his head, all of it, the whole time. The writing of it. The utterly impossible writing of it. 

To Jungkook you’re just a girlfriend. - pt.2

[pt.1] [p.2]


Originally posted by eatupbangtan

The more I thought about him, the more I couldn’t stop my tears from falling. But at the same time, the more I thought about this whole situation, the more I feel as though I was overreacting. He was right, I’m only his girlfriend - we’re not tied down to one another and he can hang with whoever he wants to hang out with. But her. She’s always liked Jungkook even though we’ve been together for this long, she never gave up on him and he knows what feelings she has for him. Do you blame me for being insecure? For being scared of the fact that I might end up losing the man I see my future with because of her? But it’s all too late now, there’s no use in being scared, or insecure because it all happened. Everything he ever assured you of, that they’ll only ever remain as friends, that he won’t do anything to lead her on, that he won’t hurt you like that, all those things he said, they meant nothing because those are all the things he did. 

I hear a knock on my door and I dreaded who stood behind it, but to my pleasant surprise I guess it wasn’t Jungkook.

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PULP FICTION 📖

PAIRING: steve harrington x reader, billy hargrove x reader

summary: nancy breaks up with steve and he is a bit of a mess when you find him. being the new girl in hawkins you try to befriend and keep nancy off his mind. it backfires and now you have him falling in love with you, as you fight off the urge to fall in love with him, too. [THIS IS AN AU!]

warnings: swearing, sexual situations, violence

a/n: quentin tarantino is my favorite director and i really love old movies. so here’s this. lot’s of music in here. also, nothing too major happens now. just two characters meet. this is possibly the maybe first time i have such an independant/strong reader

if you like my stuff and want to support me, don’t forget to treat me to a KO-FI!

MASTERLIST.

music.

“Hey, sorry to bother you. I wouldn’t be if… if you didn’t look like you could use some company.”

Your statement is met with silence as the unfamiliar guy in front of you lifts his eyes up to stare at you in bewilderment. Late autumn wind blows past and ruins your neat hairdo. Your hand grips the strap of your purse; you note tears glisten in his deep brown eyes and decide to look away so he’d have enough time to collect himself. The guy sniffles, rubs his eyes before giving you a tight smile; He opens his mouth to possibly dismiss you, but you beat him to it, “There’s no shame in crying. If you’re sad, you’re sad, right? Nothing you can do about it.” He sighs, “May I sit?” You inquire. After a moment of consideration, he gives a curt nod. And so you do.

Keep reading

Je T’aime, Mon Cher Eddie

For @time-for-tozier who came up with this idea, I hope you like it!!

Eddie watched as the clock’s minute hand moved towards the number 12, making a ticking noise as it wet round. He was so fixated that he jumped when the bell rang, the cue for people around him to pack up and leave the room.

He slammed his yellow note book shut and shoved it, and his pencil, into his backpack, before running out of the classroom to meet up with the other losers.

He sprinted down the hallways, bumping into several people and nearly tripping twice, before he reached the door. He swung the door open and walked to the bike rack around the side of the school.

“Hey Eddie,” Ben called to him as he walked over.

“Hey guys,” Eddie took in the positions of his friends. Mike was sat on the ground, fiddling with his bike, it kept breaking. Ben was sat on a bench about a meter away from the bike rack, a book resting open on his lap. Beverly was sitting on her bike seat, hands already gripping the handlebars as if she was in a hurry to go. Bill and Stan were stood next to each other, however, Eddie noticed, much too close to be considered normal. And Richie, well, he was being his usual self. He was hung upside down on one the metal bannister of a nearby stair case, dark hair brushing the ground.

“Eds! You finally arrived!” Richie near shouted bouncing his way back over to the group. “Can we go now?”

The losers collectively rolled their eyes and grabbed their bikes, climbing on and cycling towards the woods.

Their was a field there that they had claimed as their new hangout. It was completely secluded and surrounded by trees. In the spring, the ground was covered in daisies, Richie loved it, and prided himself on making “the best daisy chains in Derry”. In the Summer and Autumn, the grass was green and soft. And in the Winter, the Loser’s decided to just hand out at each other’s houses instead, with the careful avoidance of the Tozier, Marsh and Kaspbrak residences.

They were all laying on the grass. Beverly had her head resting on Ben’s lap as he sat cross legged playing with her hair. Stan and Bill were laying shoulder to shoulder, Mike was spread out like a starfish, and Richie was resting his head on Eddie’s stomach.

They were peaceful.

“Richie, I couldn’t help but to notice that you were in my French class this morning.” Bev spoke up, breaking the silence.

She knew there had to be a reason behind his sudden appearance in the class. She knew that she took it so that one day, when she was old enough, she could move to France and never look back. She knew that Stan’s parents wanted him to focus more on his religion. She knew that Ben was already fluent in the language and didn’t need to take a class. She knew that Bill found it too hard because of his stutter. She knew that Mike and Eddie simply didn’t want to take the subject, seeing no reason for it.

So what was Richie’s reason?

“You take French?” Eddie chuckled, sitting up. “Since when?”

“Well, obviously since this morning dipshit. I already know how to say some stuff. Such as,” Richie cleared his throat. “Ta mère aime ça dans le cul.”

Bev’s head shot up. “Beep Beep Richie.”

“W-what did he say?” Bill asked.

“Do you really want me to tell you?” Bev whined. The rest of the group, bar Richie and Ben, nodded. She sighed. “He said “your mother likes it up the ass.”

Groans of “Richie”, and “really?” We passed around as Richie smirked.

“Hey Rich? Do you know anything that’s not rude?” Eddie asked.

“Umm yeah,” Richie replied. “Eddie, tu as de beaux yeux.” (You have beautiful eyes)

“What does that mean?”

“Ahh, my dear Eddie Spaghetti, that is a secret.”

“Don’t call me that. Bev? Can you tell me what he said?” Eddie asked Beverly, who was staring at Richie with a strange look on her face. She stared for a few more moments before turning to Eddie.

“Sorry Eddie, I don’t know what he said.”

————

The next morning Richie bounced into school with too much energy for 7am on a Tuesday.

“Good morning, mes petits choux.” He smiled, leaning his chin on Eddie’s head.

“Richie, if I may ask, why did you just call us ‘your little cabbages’?” Ben questioned.

“I did it because I felt like it.” Just then the bell rang for class.

“Um, Richie? Can I talk you you for a sec? In private?” Beverly asked. Richie nodded, he loved the girl like family, they both dealt with similar issues in their home lives. “Do you like Eddie? You know, as in like him?”

Richie blushed. “No, where did you get that idea?”

“You’re always hugging him, you never stop staring at him, and yesterday you told him, in French, that he had beautiful eyes.”

“You said you didn’t understand what I said!”

“Well I lied, I guessed that you didn’t really want me to tell him, otherwise you would have simply said it in English.” She sighed. “Richie, what’s the real reason you started taking French class? You know I’m not going to judge you.”

Richie sighed. “I’ve been dealing with so much at home and then I come to school and he,” Richie leant back against the wall. “He makes me feel safe, and, I dunno, loved I guess? I just wanted a way to tell him how I feel and explain what’s happening at home. But it was way too painful to say it all in English, so I thought it’d be easier to tell him in another language.”

“Oh, Richie.” Beverly wrapped him in a hug. “That’s so sweet.” Richie gave her a half smile, and they began walking to their first class, which happened to be French.

———-

Eddie was just dozing off when he hears the taps at his window. At first he was scared that it was a leper, or a murderer, but he was assured it wasn’t when someone spoke up from behind the glass and curtains.

“Eddie? You awake?” Eddie pushed he covers off and got out of bed, he walked over to the window and opened the curtains.

The person at his window was Richie.

“C-can I come in?” Eddie could see the tears making their way steadily down Richie’s cheeks. He pushed the window open as quietly as he could and Richie clambered in.

“Rich, are you okay? What happened?” Instead of the answer Eddie knew he wasn’t going to get, Richie clutched him in a hug, openly sobbing.

Eddie guided Richie over to his bed and lates him down so that Richie’s head was resting above his heart. He never got answers, but he knew how to calm his best friend down. He liked listening to Eddie’s heartbeat, to confirm he wasn’t alone, and he like it when Eddie ran his fingers through his hair.

That’s exactly what Eddie was doing when Richie stopped crying and mumbled something.

“I’m sorry? I didn’t catch that.”

“Je t'aime. S’il te plaît, ne me quitte jamais.” (I love you. Please never leave me.)

Richie fell asleep soon after that, Eddie had no idea what the sleeping boy had said to him.

Over the next few months, Richie refused to stop talking in French whilst around Eddie. Beverly noticed he would constantly be blushing whenever Richie spoke the foreign words, in a thick accent. All of the Losers agreed that it was The only good impression Richie Tozier had ever done. During these months, Bev had to put up with Richie’s constant pining for Eddie.

She would always catch him calling Eddie a ‘magnifique petit tournesol’ (gorgeous little sunflower) or telling Eddie that he ‘avait l'air si mignon dans ce pull’ (looked so cute in that sweater’. He even said ‘Mon Amour.’ (My love) a few times

She was fed up of it. She knew without a doubt that Eddie had the same feelings towards Richie. So, during their 5th period geography class, Bev gave Richie a stern talking to.

“You need to tell him.”

“What?”

“Eddie! You need to tell him how you feel! I’m like 99% sure he reciprocates your feelings.”

“Yes Bev, but what about the 1% hmm?” Beverly rolled her eyes, they spent the rest of the lesson in silence.

A few weeks passed and Richie and Eddie found themselves alone at Loser’s Meadow, as the gang had dubbed it, watching the sun set.

“Eddie, I’m about to ramble in French and you just need to listen, you don’t need to understand.”

Eddie furrowed his brow. “Oh, okay.” He secretly loved it when Richie spoke French, however, he’d never admit it.

“Vous ne comprenez pas un mot que je dis en ce moment, et honnêtement? Je pense que c'est une bonne chose.

(You don’t understand a word im saying right now, and honestly? I think thats a good thing.)

J'avais besoin d'un moyen de pouvoir te dire ce que je ressens sans que tu me détestes.

(I needed a way to be able to tell you how i feel without you hating me.)

Parce que je sais que tu ne m'aimes pas en retour. Qui pourrait m'aimer de retour? Je suis un morceau de merde sans valeur.

(Because I know you don’t love me back. Who could love me back? I’m a worthless piece of shit.)

Vous voyez, vous n'avez absolument aucune idée de ce que je dis. En ce moment, tes joues sont d'un rouge vif avec combien tu rougis, et ton sourire n'a jamais été aussi beau.

(See, you have absolutely no idea what I’m saying. Right now, your cheeks are bright red with how much you’re blushing, and your smile has never been more beautiful.)

Tant que je continue à sourire et à parler, ce regard restera sur votre visage. Je ne veux jamais que tu arrêtes de sourire.

(As long as I keep smiling and talking, that look will stay on your face. I never want you to stop smiling.)

Ok, maintenant pour la vraie merde.

(Okay, now for the real shit.)

Eddie Kaspbrak, je t'aime depuis que nous avons neuf ans. Vous avez toujours été mon refuge, pour les nuits où il n'est pas sûr de rentrer à la maison, ou j'en ai fini avec le monde.

(Eddie Kaspbrak, I have loved you since we were 9 years old. You have always been my safe haven, for nights when it isn’t safe to go home, or I’m just done with the world.)

Vous êtes la seule personne à qui je fais confiance. Sauf ça. C'est la seule chose que vous ne saurez jamais, parce que je sais que vous ne ressentirez jamais la même chose.

(You are the one person I trust everything to. Except this. This is the one thing that you’ll never know, because I know you’ll never feel the same.)

Je t'aime Eddie Kaspbrak, je t'aime.

(I love you Eddie Kaspbrak, I love you.)”

Eddie giggled. “What the hell did you just say?”

“Oh, um, just a very detailed description of your mom’s vagina. I can retell it in English if you’d like?”

“Beep beep Richie.” Eddie said whilst laughing, as Richie sat admiring him, a wistful expression on his face.

A few days later saw Richie climbing into Eddie’s window at 3am with a bust lip and a black eye and tears streaming down his cheeks.

Without having to ask, Eddie pulled him into his bed and wrapped his arms around the crying boy. Richie wouldn’t stop muttering something in French until he fell asleep.

“Je t'aime.” Eddie made himself a promise that he’d look those words up as soon as the library was open tomorrow.

As soon as Richie left the next morning, Eddie pulled on a Red sweatshirt, one of Richie’s that he’d left behind years ago, and some shorts. He ran out of the house, making sure to kiss his mother goodbye before he left, and raced to the library.

He walked in and asked the receptionist to point him towards the ‘languages’ section.

He grabbed himself the first French dictionary he could find and flipped straight to the ‘T’ chapter, he already knew that ‘Je’ mean ‘I’.

Eddie gasped when he read the meaning. He dropped the book, causing a loud thud, and ran straight for the exit. He clambered back onto his bike and sped down the streets. He knew where Richie would be. The out of use highway bridge. He would always go there on a Saturday to smoke, listen to The Smiths and get away from his Parents.

Eddie threw his bike down as soon as he arrived, taking a puff from his asthma inhaler. “Richie?” He called out.

“Eddie?” He looked up to see Richie sat on the bridge’s ledge, feet swinging backwards and forwards. Eddie began to run up the hill towards the dark haired boy, whilst said boy stumbled down towards him. They met halfway.

“Eds, what are you doing here? Aren’t you supposed to be babysitting your mother or something.”

“Je t'aime aussi.” Eddie stated, not even bothering to tell Richie off for calling him Eds.

“What?” Richie looked unsure of what he’d just heard.

“Je t’aime aussi.” Eddie took a breath. “I love you too.”

Richie wasted no time in pulling Eddie in by his waist, connecting their lips. Eddie fisted his hands in the collar of Richie’s shirt. They pulled away a few moments later, in need of air, and rested their foreheads together.

This felt right. This felt like home.

【Japan Official Fanclub Magazine Vol.2】BTS My Biography – Suga’s part

From a mischievous child to a young boy that loves to read

Born in Daegu, South Korea’s 3rd biggest city, which is located in the south. I lived there until I came to Seoul. I was just an ordinary child, I always liked to mess around. So, the teacher in nursery didn’t really like me (laughs). I remember that I always got told off “it’s dangerous!” I liked sports and I was especially good at running. From primary school to high school, I often got chosen to participate in the relay race. And I was above average in studying.

When I was a child, I really liked to go out to play with my friends. But as I grew up, I wasn’t that fond of going out to play. Even when I went out to play, we just met in the park, there were nothing to do though. I didn’t like that, so I usually stayed at home along on the weekends. My mother said: “you should go out to see your friends sometimes.” (laughs)

I liked to collect, so I collected a lot of books when I was a child. Because at the time, I wanted to be cultivated, I wanted to pretend that I’m civilized. So, I read many grown up novels, poetry anthology, literary works and news articles which didn’t suit me… I read all genres of books. I don’t know why but from middle school onwards, I started to have the habit of reading from the back page. Now, I would read books sometimes. My reading speed is quick because I read chunks of writings.

First love in primary school… I honestly don’t have any memories about that. Unlike Seoul, the place I live in is quite conservative. Especially in my school, it’s rare to see boys talking to girls. Even being next to a girl made me shy, I didn’t even say a thing.

Encountered Hip-Hop
Started to compose music in middle school

I became interested in music when I was in 5th grade of middle school, I saw the Korean artist Stony Skunk’s performance on TV. At the time, the genre Ballad was in its prime. If 18 teams were on a music show, 10 would be ballad groups, 5 would be idol groups and the remaining 3 would be other genres, Stony Skunk was one of the 3. Stony Skunk was really cool, their style is so different from the other groups. I’ve never been interested in music before that, but under the influence of Stony Skunk, I started to listen to Hip-Hop and Reggae music. I was also influenced by Epik High. MP3 players were getting popular at the time but I bought a Panasonic CD player and listened to music with that.

That’s how I started to listen to music, and at the same time I started to write song as well. No one told me to do it, but I just felt like I should write something. I started to write rap lyrics in primary school and started to compose music in middle school. At the time, no one around me liked Hip-Hop. Although Hip-Hop is getting popular again in Korea but when I encountered Hip-Hop, it was a genre that was popular from a long time ago. You probably couldn’t find anyone who raps on the street, apart from me. My friends complained when I sang rap songs in the karaoke room. You know there’re those special hand gestures in Hip-Hop, I got laughed at because I did those gestures.

Despite all of that, I continued to like Hip-Hop. I got to perform on the stage for the first time in 2nd of middle school. I performed Dynamic Duo’s ‘Go Back’ with my friends. I don’t like standing in front of many people but I just felt like I had to do it. I wanted to show off the rap that I’ve been practicing, although I wasn’t that great (laughs). Actually, I wanted to attend an arts high school, so I even produced classical music. But arts high school is too expensive so I attended an ordinary high school. I said to my father, “I’ve made enough music, I’ll study properly when I’m in high school.” But I never kept my promise (laughs).

Joined an underground crew in hometown, started to work as an underground rapper

I produced music in middle school for self-satisfaction, and I made songs in a hobby level. But after I changed the MIDI equipment, I started to make music properly. When I was in 1st grade of high school, I made a person to listen to my song, he was a teacher to me and he really liked it. Then he introduced me to a Hip-Hop crew called ’D-Town’ and I joined in. That song had a New Age music feeling to it but the Hip-Hop beats were like Nujabes. For your information, the teacher that acknowledged me studied in Berklee College of Music and now he’s a music director for movies. After I joined the crew, I started to learn rap properly. Although I’ve been rapping since primary school but since no one around me raps, so I always thought I was the best (laughs).

This is how I started my underground activities in Daegu. It also made me realize that working in the underground scene is difficult to make a living. The hyungs that I worked with was 10 years older than me, there were even people over 30 years old. They had to work part-time along with making music, it looked so tiring. I really hated the fact that it was difficult to gather 100 audience when we try to hold a live performance. I thought “if I succeed, can I be the bridge between mainstream music and underground music?” There are many people that makes great music in the underground scene, so I thought when I become famous, I’ll give them a better environment to work in and I want to let the world hear my hyungs’ music.

And at the same time, I heard that BigHit Entertainment was holding an audition in Daegu. I only knew that producer Bang Shi Hyuk established the company but I still auditioned. The next day, I got the notice that I passed the audition. Later, someone told me that when he saw me, he immediately gave me a pass. Even though my rapping wasn’t really good at the time (laughs).

Came to Seoul, became a trainee
Ran counter to his (original) intention?!

I can still clearly remember the day that I came to Seoul, 7th November 2010, when I was in 2nd grade of high school. When I joined the company, my original intention wasn’t to become a rapper, I wanted to become a producer. So, I thought I didn’t need to dance, and I can leave rapping to those that are good at it. I thought I only need to be a producer. But that wasn’t the case (laughs). At the time, the company wanted to debut a group consists of rappers, rather than an idol group. However, the plan changed at the end. The members at the time were Rap Monster, J-Hope and I. Including Supreme Boi, i11evn hyung who’s currently working in the underground scene, and IRON hyung, who was one of the finalists in ‘Show Me The Money 3’. I think if we debuted like that, our rapping would be outstanding but we would probably have failed (laughs).

Rapper & Producer
Suga’s future goals

I’m able to walk on the path of music, it’s because of my brother, who’s 4 years older than me. Under my influence, my brother started to like Hip-Hop too. No one supported me in my family when I went to audition, except for my brother. They don’t approve of making music. My relatives even said to me: “what can you achieve from making music, just study properly.” So, I could only share my songs with my brother, he was my only listener. And I told my brother first when I passed the audition. We have a good relationship just like friends. I don’t usually drink but I drink a bit with my brother. Of course, my family support me now. The relatives that advised me to study even came to ask for my autograph (laughs).

I’ve been thinking lately that I want to be active as a producer. I’m not ambitious about being in the center, I just want to make music. I’m not interested in the entertainment industry, others want to either act or be on variety shows, but I don’t (laughs). Above all, I think the most important for BTS right now is to achieve #1 in Korea and Japan. And, I want to become the best rapper, the best producer. I don’t know how long it will take to achieve that but I’m going to give it a go.

BTS Biography - Jimin (Vol.5)
BTS Biography - V (Vol.3)

Trans: KIMMYYANG (from Korean mondomizel1)

You Bet

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Henderson!reader

Request(s): 

  • Steve Harrington x Henderson!Reader … Honestly IDK what you wright. I am just a sucker for Steve The Mom™ and his bromance with Dustin. Would love for Dustin to have a sister or cousin or something and the Reader getting roped into Dart shenanigans. PLZ PLZ PLZ PLZ PLZ
  • Can you do an imagine with Steve Harrington, were the reader is really badass, and kills one of the demogorgons, and steve starts liking her?

Word Count: 3038 (suuuper long I kinda hate it)

Song: No song for this I kinda just blasted the whole soundtrack for two days straight

Summary: Kinda exactly what the requests say but if you didn’t read it it’s essentially Steve being Mom Of The Year and you being Dustin’s badass older sister that Steve falls for after seeing her in action while fighting the demodogs.

Warning(s): Violence, swearing, I think that’s it????

Author’s Note: I’ll do a smutty part two if y’all want it like I’ll probs do it anyway let’s be for real

Keep reading

[M] Innocence

Originally posted by herthealbum


A/N: Hi guys~ It’s Admin Sunshine here, as you may know I’ve been changing my fictions and today I’ve changed this fiction; I hope you guys will enjoy <3

Pairing: Jimin x Female Reader

Genre:  One Shot, Roommate AU!, Slightly fluff, Smut

Words Count : 3.5k

Warnings : [M] for Mature Content, this fiction is pure smut.


“It’s been six fucking months already” You said out loud as you scrolled down on your phone to keep yourself busy. But it was the truth; it’s been already six months since you had sex, you were horny and your roommate’s existence didn’t help you at all. When you took a deep breath, you started to think about your roommate; he was already sleeping and you were excessively horny. In fact you were getting even hornier than before and you couldn’t hold yourself any longer—you just wanted to cum.

But there was only one problem on your way to masturbate; the walls were thin and you knew you wouldn’t be able to hold back your moans. As you started to play with your clit you let out a soft moan, when you were wet enough; you’ve decided to slide a finger inside of your pussy. But when your moans started to get loud you tried to bite your lip—you tried to push second finger but your pussy was tight and you decided not to add another finger. As you kept fingered yourself, you started to cry out loud and at this point you didn’t care if Jimin aka your roommate heard you or not. You couldn’t help but think about him as you fingered yourself—he would fuck you real good if you asked him to do, but he didn’t know this side of you; you never showed how kinky you were in front of him. When you paced up the speed, you let out a big whiny-moan without noticing it. As soon as you came all over your finger, you started to catch your breath.

When you took a deep breath, you started to think about Jimin and the all those sex that you could have with him; you wanted him more than anything.

Keep reading

Case Closed (Jungkook x Reader)

Admin: Candi
Request: Can i request a rough jungkook smut? Thx btw.. – anon”
Fandom: BTS
Member/reader: Jungkook x Reader
Genre: Smut, Lawyer!AU
Warnings: Smoking, language, hair pulling, daddy kink, spitting, slapping, choking
Words: 3.6k
Authors note: O this is a treat for all you jungkook stans, hope you enjoy it and lemme know what you think. Thank you! Also I ain’t a lawyer so don’t judge my case scene lmao.

           As a child you always thought you’d end up being a vet, then during your teens you wanted to be a tattoo artist since you entered the rebellious phase at that stage. Throughout the years you never saw yourself as a lawyer but here you are, your first case was happening today and you were going against the most respected and feared lawyer in the company. His name was Jungkook and he always won every case. You wanted to kick your boss in the teeth for putting you up against Jungkook for your first ever case but you were also quite flattered knowing that your boss thought you’re good enough to go against Jungkook.

           The case has been going on for a few months, your client was a victim of identity fraud and Jungkook was defending the person who did it. If the judge had any common sense you’d easily win the case but it’s not about that, it’s about knowledge and confidence, it’s much like having a debate; the more facts you put forward the more likely you’ll win.

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Don’t Freak IV

Originally posted by barrys

Steve Harrington x Reader

PART I | PART II | PART III | PART V

Requests are OPEN


I guess I lost it before I even had it,” That was the last thing Steve said when they got to his car.  It echoed in Y/N’s head the whole trip home. Then she got to thinking what life with Steve could’ve been like. All the things she did with Jonathan, she imagined doing with Steve, then she imagined more intimate moments like stolen kisses, affectionate hugs and cuddling. She shook her head and turned the volume up to the radio, hoping whatever was playing would drown out the less than sane thoughts going through her head.

After my picture fades and darkness has turned to gray
Watching through windows you’re wondering if I’m okay
Secrets stolen from deep inside
The drum beats out of time

If you’re lost you can look and you will find me
Time after-

Y/N’s hand slammed on the radio, silencing Cyndi Lauper, then covered her mouth as a sob escaped. Every emotion she felt with Steve in the car finally made its way out. She took deep breaths to try and calm herself, but it just seemed to make things worse.

Y/N parked her car next to her mother’s in the driveway and sat. She turned the key to shut the ignition off, then rested her forehead against the wheel and cried.

She didn’t know what time it was by the time she gathered herself up and trudged into the house. All of the lights were off and the house was silent. Y/N kicked her shoes off on the side mat and hung up her keys.

Y/N walked as quietly as she could down the hall to her room and silently shut the door. She flipped the light switch on and looked at the alarm clock on her nightstand. It was after midnight.

Keep reading

5 REASONS TO FALL IN LOVE:

      When it came to love, you never understood what all the fuss was about, truly, you didn’t. Not until you met Steve Harrington, that is, and the whole world just started making sense.


EARLY MORNING KISSES:

The first privilege came in arguably the most affectionate show of love – a kiss placed on your lips so early in the morning you never quite know whether you’re dreaming or awake. And it is the absolute sweetest because you are the first thing on Steve’s mind when he opens his eyes and the last one before he closes them.

Early birds chirp their cheery tunes at dawn and the sun slowly rises; bright rays peak through the closed curtains of your room and burn the side of your cheek in almost a loving way. Steve is the first to stir – naturally, he is much more sensitive to sudden changes in lighting and temperature – and once he pries one hazy sleep ridden eye open all he can make out is a blurry image of your white ceiling. He blinks a few times, inhales a few breaths that taste like your perfume before his senses finally flow back into him and he tilts his head to the side. His hair sticks to his face and he shoves it out his eyes; he sees you still deep in sleep and most likely dreaming. And he wastes no time to lay his hand on your waist, feel your hot skin burn his fingertips as a lazy smile blooms on his lips. This peace lasts a moment, or possibly much longer, after all it’s hard to tell time when most of the world is still sleeping. He leans in and captures your lips in a soft kiss – a kiss he gives you every morning because true to the fairytale of Sleeping Beauty, you can only be awoken by a true loves kiss. He tried other methods. Tickling. Calling your name. A dozen alarm clocks. Nothing got a reaction, except this one thing and he did not use it sparingly.

The vast skies of dreams cloud with reality as slowly you feel yourself sucked into a stuffy, hot room, with dewy sweat coating your skin and batches of hair tickling your cheeks. The senses alert  in one deep inhale and you grin immediately once you realize that Steve’s lips still rest on yours; a raspy giggle escapes you as you playfully smack his arm and he gradually, with one last peck on your cheek and a sweet and hoarse ‘Good morning…’ moves back to his pillow. Your hand finds his under the sheets, your fingers squeezing his as you hum.

Babe…” You whisper.

“Yea?”

Not morning…”

“Morning. School.”

No.”


MOVIE DATES:

Hawkins Movie Theatre is your favorite spot to hang out and of course Steve knows this. After all, he took you here on your first date. So each time you stepped through those double doors felt like the first time holding his hand all over again.

Midnight séance. A horror movie with flashy imagery and more nudity than you expected plays on screen as teenagers that are legal and not sit in couples and whisper amongst themselves. You sink into the plush red seat and inhale the scent of popcorn, cola, and something frying. The sounds are loud and unpleasant and you have to refrain from cringing when the volume jumps just a bit too loud. Your eyes stay glued to the screen despite the urge to ogle your boyfriend – you know that once you glance at him you will be unable to look away.

His hand rests on your thigh. Naturally, shoulder hugs are only for starting lovebirds, but you still remember how he pulled the old ‘yawn-wrap-my-arm-around-your-shoulders-don’t-freak-out-please’ shtick on you and how you absolutely swooned. Suddenly memories appear more interesting than the movie and you drift away. Oh, what a rainy day it had been when he had asked you out, not all that smug and cool. Not like the rumors painted him to be at all. He caught you after school, after basketball practice, as you were leaving your club with a stack of books and flyers occupying the space in your hands. He had offered to carry some heavier books and you had smiled sweetly at him for it. Then, once you reached your locker, and as you put the clutter away he had asked you if you wanted to ‘Catch a movie sometime?’. Your first reaction was to raise a brow in confusion and mild amusement. When you saw that he was serious, and despite himself nervous, your cheeks bloomed red and a shaky ‘Yeah…I’d like that’ fell from your lips before you could even think about it.

Steve’s hand squeezes your thigh and you perk up. Meeting eyes with him you try to bite down the smile. Seems he got bored of the movie, too.


SHARING SECRETS:

Your house had been turned upside down as you, in great anger, tried to explain what the hell had happened to one of your friends. And how no one was supposed to know about it.

Steve sat on your bed with a book in his hand – English literature, can’t say it’s his favorite – as you pace around the small space of your room with your hands up in the air repeating the same wild gestures as you fight to control the volume of your voice. With blushed cheeks and a permanent frown on your face, you suddenly halt and stare at him, “Can you believe it?!”

“No.” He says, turning a page, “How could she?” His voice tatters on the edge of genuine interest. Frankly, he doesn’t think it’s that big of a deal, but if you want to vent he isn’t going to stop you.

“I know, right!?” You release a frustrated sigh and run a shaky hand through your hair; a moment of absolute silence passes and worried Steve glances up at you. Wide eyed, you state, “I don’t think I can be friends with her after this.”

You want his opinion. Dear God, you want his opinion. His advice is debatable in quality (Dustin, after all, didn’t get the girl despite Steve’s 100% proven technique) and to toss in his two cents in the beef that you have with your friend? This may potentially ruin your and hers friendship, or at the very least what’s left of it. Silently, he puts the book aside and motions for you to come closer. Sadly you walk over, and gently grasping your hand he pulls you into his lap. His head comes to rest on your shoulder as his arms wrap around your waist and you find a comfortable position to rest. A heavy sigh escapes your lips and he can’t help but frown. He doesn’t want to see you like this.

Hey…” He calls softly, his fingers hooking some loose strands of (color) hair over your ear, “Don’t be sad. I mean, I’m really not the best person to discuss girl troubles with, but like you said…She’s a bitch.”

You nod, “I know, but…But she’s my bitch, Steve.”

He thinks, “…Yeah. She’s your bitch.”

“I should call her.”

“Yep. You go do that.”


TAKING PICTURES TOGETHER:

You love looking at pictures. Especially on rainy days when there is nothing better to do and the need for social interaction is on an all-time low. You suppose you like them so much because they are proof. Proof that something magical had happened.

Oh my God!” Your mother cries, her hands grasping the Polaroid camera as if her life depends on it, “Oh my God, (F/Name)! (F/Name) come here! Our little baby’s all grown up now!” Her voice cracks at the end and you can’t help but release an amused smile.

You share a look with Steve. He gives a shrug. The two of you stand together, his arm around your waist. Graduation. You wear your best dress, finest hairdo, and perfect smile. You are positive Steve put an extra hours’ worth of work into his hair today, and you have the sudden urge to run your finger through it, though the amount of self-control you have surprises even you.

Another flash lights up the room and flinch and squint your eyes to shield yourself from the sudden attack. This is possibly the sixteenth picture that had fallen to the floor with your mothers promise to ‘Pick it up later! Now pose!’. Not having the heart in you to refuse her, you straighten your back, smile to the camera, and pray that you don’t look half as uncomfortable as you feel. Steve leans in and you feel his breath brush your ear, “Do you think she’ll ever stop?”

“Smile and pretend like you’re having a good time, sweetie.”


VIBING ALL NIGHT LONG:

The amount of records you have stocked up in your room makes Steve proud to call you his girl. The fact that the two of you share the same music taste is a huge plus, too.

…And your favorite song starts playing on the radio that goes in perfect tune with your laughing. Steve’s car suddenly turns into a dance floor – you squirm in your seat and do quick work to open the window to let the whole neighborhood hear your jam. The stars shape into fairy lights and street lamps flicker like at the disco on a Friday night. You close your eyes and inhale the scent of dewy grass as and wind and pollinated sleeping flowers. Summer is your favorite time of year, and no matter what hour you decide to sneak out the house you always find yourself in a permanent state of daze and awe. Last remnants of heat tickle your cheeks and you flash your eyes open, look at Steve and he shares your brilliant smile.

You hold your choice of beer up to his face, “Sippy!” You demand. He gives you a dismissive laugh, his hands firmly on the steering wheel as he continues to drive around.

“I can’t—“ But before he can finish you turn up the volume and demand again.

“Sippy!”

“I’ll have to park the car!” He warns. You shake your head, “We’ll have to walk a mile home!”

“Don’t care! Sippy!”



a/n: edited this at 3am lmao don’t @ me if u find mistakes orz
ALSO! FEEL FREE TO ADD TO THE LIST <3

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Traffic Teases

warnings: sub!Tom, please don’t tease and drive, handjobs, a nsfw gif, riding tom, slight overstimulation

summary: picking your boyfriend up from the gym as you catch a glimpse of him hot and sweaty, now who wouldn’t be turned on by that?

word count: 2,019 

tag list: @maggie-starz

A smile came across your face once you parked your black subcompact car just near the vicinity where Tom’s gym was it. You pushed back the car door shut as you clutched onto your wallet whilst slowly heading towards the entrance of the impressively vast building, with it being very spacious inside whilst being filled with punching bags, yoga mats, mini obstacle courses, and barbells.

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So Much More

Synopsis: You are a new and upcoming superstar and during an interview, you get asked questions about the one and only Harry Styles. 

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