it breaks my heart to know and realize that kenta had to perform on mcountdown knowing that he was eliminated still he delivered such an amazing performance and did his best as always, there was a photo of kenta crying after the performance and it makes me cry so much because he knows that it’s his last stage, that he won’t be able to perform on stage anymore 😭 the fact that he told mnet to give him screen time yet he got nothing and kenta kept getting cut off makes me so mad because mnet was so terrible and awful to him since the start, and now he got eliminated and we didn’t even get to see his last words?? they have always showed him crying whenever the trainees were eliminated and kenta was saying goodbye to them but with kenta getting eliminated we got nothing….NOTHING i swear mnet can choke i hate this bye
VOMIT WARNING (I know some people don’t like that, so just a warning)
Because I’m spiraling into a Voltron writing obsession, here’s another college AU, based loosely on my own experiences ayyyyyy *finger guns*
(Also you should definitely send me some prompts because I want to write more Voltron but don’t know what else to write)
“So I was thinking we could-” Keith started, but was once again, for what must have been the hundredth time today, cut off by Lance.
“-Hey, have you guys seen that video?”
Keith and Hunk groaned in frustration.
Shiro sighed. “You did it again, Lance.”
Keith let out an exasperated sigh. “Lance! You can’t keep-Lance! I’m talking to you. Will you pay attention for like, FIVE minutes? Or even TWO?”
Lance snapped his attention back to Keith. “Hmm?”
Keith clenched his jaw, frustration bubbling in his chest. Lance was completely unable to focus. On ANYTHING. He had been distracted and disruptive all day, bouncing off the walls and going off on tangents that were completely unrelated to what anybody was talking about.
Keith was exhausted just trying to keep up with him. Even Shiro, ever patient Shiro, was growing frustrated with him.
“What’s WITH you today?”
“I…uh…too much coffee, I guess.” Lance said, glancing around uncomfortably before hopping out of his seat and grabbing all his stuff.
“Lance, what’s going o-”
“-I have to go do homework!”
Keith, Shiro and Hunk watched as Lance hurried off.
“What…was that?” Hunk asked. “I mean he’s always been…crazy but not like THIS.”
“Uh…coffee, apparently.” Shiro frowned.
Lance burst into his room, his heart pounding in his chest. He was just annoying everyone, but he couldn’t help it. He tried, he tried SO hard, but he was completely and totally unable to focus.
He had completely forgotten to take his medication this morning, and he didn’t realize it until nearly five PM, and by that time it was too late. If he took it now, he wouldn’t sleep that night, and he needed to sleep.
He knew it was a lost cause, but he was going to try and get some studying done.
Instead of studying, he found himself spinning in his desk chair, staring up at the ceiling to count the tiles.
While he was spinning, some Velcro from one of his projects caught his eye, and before he knew it, he was taping half of it to the wall, and half to his hands.
Keith walked in right as he was about to launch himself off the bed and onto the wall.
“Yes, roomie?” Lance asked, bouncing up and down on the bed lightly.
“What the hell are you doing? Get down!”
“I wanted to be SpiderMan.”
“You wanted to be spider-get down!” He cried, throwing his hands in the air. “I thought you were studying.”
“I was going to…but then I got sidetracked.” He said, slowly coming to a standstill.
“Okay, this,” Keith said, gesturing from the wall to Lance, “is NOT a good idea. Seriously.”
Lance sighed. “Yeah I guess you’re right - hey have you seen that video?”
Keith pinched the bridge of his nose. “I don’t…you need to be a bit more specific. What video are you talking about?”
“The…uh…guy who ate weed brownies and thought he was dead. Ooh! There’s this really good show on Netflix. The Flash, have you heard of it?Season one isn’t great, but it gets better. Have you watched it?”
Keith blinked. “No, I haven’t. Lance, are you alright?”
“You’re all over the place, man.”
Lance’s face hardened, and he got off the bed and went to sit at his desk. “I told you. I had too much coffee.”
Keith sat on his bed, facing Lance.
He watched as Lance struggled to calm himself enough to focus.
He watched as Lance tapped his pencil on the desk incessantly and rolled back and forth in his chair while he stared at his laptop. He must have gotten up fifteen times to go walk to their mini fridge and walk back to his seat.
Then, Lance straightened in his chair and pressed a hand to his stomach. A grimace crossed his face and he stood up.
“Lance? Are you okay?”
“Stomachache.” He bit out, gritting his teeth as he climbed into bed.
Keith frowned. “Are you going to be sick?”
“I don’t…maybe.” He groaned.
“What happened? You were fine literally a minute ago.”
“I’m fine. Leave me alone.” He groaned, curling into himself as tightly as possible.
“-I’m FINE. This happens a lot. Leave me alone.”
“What do you mean?” He demanded. “Do you need to see a doctor?”
Lance let out a heavy sigh. “I have…nnngh…I have ADHD.”
“That…what does that have to do with your stomach?”
“I forgot to take my meds. This is a side effect.”
“Oh shit.” Keith said, his eyebrows shooting up. “Do you need anything?”
“I just need to…r-ride it out.” He groaned, gripping the blankets and writhing in pain. Sharp, stabbing, cramping pains were shooting across his abdomen in waves.
“Are you sure?”
Lance just groaned in pain, pressing his face into the pillow.
“Okay, I’m calling Shiro.”
“-it’s not up for discussion, Lance.” He said firmly.
Lance whimpered in pain, squeezing his eyes shut.
Keith dialed Shiro’s number, keeping his eyes on Lance.
“Shiro, we need you over here.”
“What’s the matter?”
“What happened with Lance?”
“He has a really bad stomachache…he’s writhing in pain in bed and I don’t know what to do.”
“Does he have a fever?”
“I don’t-Lance, do you have a fever?”
“No, idiot. I don’t have a fever.” Lance spat. “I’m not SICK, you don’t need to call Sh-Shiro…I’m f-ngggh.”
Keith rolled his eyes. “He doesn’t have a fever.”
“Give him something for the pain, I’ll be there soon.”
A wave of nausea rolled over him, and he got out of bed and made a b-line for the bathroom.
Lance slammed the door shut, and leaned over the toilet to empty his stomach. When he emerged from the bathroom, pale and shaky, Shiro was there.
“Are you alright?” He asked, pressing his hand to Lance’s cheek.
Lance batted his hand away. “I’m fine.”
Throwing up almost always brought relief when this happened. He felt mostly better, his stomach still hurt but it was nowhere as bad as before.
“You’re not fine.” Shiro said, shaking his head. Lance groaned, thoroughly irritated at all the attention he was getting.
Keith pursed his lips. “He says it’s a side effect from not taking his medication.”
Shiro frowned. “What? What medication?”
Lance clenched his jaw. “I have ADHD. I forgot to take my medication and that’s why I was so unbearable today.”
“Lance, you weren’t-”
“I annoyed you…I know I was. I knew when I kept cutting you off. I know how annoying I get when I don’t take them…I tried really hard to stop…to be normal, but I couldn’t. I’m sorry.” Lance said, his eyes filling with tears.
“Look,” Shiro started. “I’ll admit…I was getting frustrated.”
“Me too, but dude, it wasn’t just that you were annoying. We knew something was up, you’re not usually this…uh…”
“All over the place.” Shiro supplied.
“Yeah, that. You’re not usually all over the place like this.”
From time to time, I see teens on tumblr questioning why 30+ year-olds or even 20+ year-olds are still in the fandom, and it never ceases to baffle me - not only because some people apparently consider it acceptable to teach perfect strangers what to do and what not to do in their free time, but also because such attitude is a polar opposite to my own fandom experience.
The first fandom I joined was populated exclusively by teens, at least at the websites I used to frequent back then. Then, at the age of 15, I joined the Harry Potter fandom (I’ve read the books and watched the first films much earlier, but I had no interest in consuming or producing HP fan content prior to that). And I discovered that there were many, many women (not only women, of course, but still mostly women) in their thirties, in their fourties, and even older, who participated actively in the life of fandom. It was an absolute surprise for me. And a wonderful one.
Because, you see, the 15-year-old me was terrified of a great number of things, including growing up. In particular, I was scared of becoming, you know… too adult. Or at least what I perceived as “adult” back then. Too serious, not wanting to have any hobbies that are too “childish”, thinking only about work or household or other “respectable” issues. Not writing anymore, not creating anymore, not feeling inspiration anymore. I was pretty sure that this is what being a grown-up looks like. You have to abandon the things that are not practical or not profitable or not universally accepted and encouraged. You have to become serious.
And then there are these women - lovely, talented women.
Women twice my age, women old enough to be my mothers, women who actually have children of my age.
Women who work and have family and still manage to have fun and do what makes them happy. Their example showed me that being an adult does not mean being boring, that you’re never too old to write stories about your favourite characters, that you can be both a successful professional and a fanartist or a fic writer. That no one is doomed to become a boring person. That “when you grow up, your heart dies” is complete bullshit. I’m sorry, I like The Breakfast Club, but this is bullshit. The older I become, the older my fandom buddies become, the clearer I see it.
I am 23 now. I am still grateful to those people who showed me that I need not fear growing up. So it is really strange for me to see teens here saying such things. Are they sure that they will not want to be in the fandom anymore when they grow up? Are they planning to quit their fandoms as soon as they turn 20/30/etc.? And if they actually are planning to do so - why do they think that there is such a necessity? Adults are not robots.
REQUEST: Helloo, could you write a fic with Patrick. I just want him to play with my hair and gimme shit for my bruised eye. Shit- make fun of in a caring way owo
High school is a breeding grounds for wannabe gangsters. The
type of people that wanted the fear and solemn respect that came with the title
but never the full on balls to do what it took to get there. It’s what separates
the typical bullies that shove nerds into lockers and the Bowers gang.
It’s never a contest. Bowers gang ranks top on the food
chain when it comes to the scum of Derry High School’s delinquents. No one
dares mess with them and the ones foolish enough to try get made an example of.
There’s a sense of power that comes with running with that
crowd. It’s that delightful feeling that comes when the girl who keeps kicking
the back of your seat despite your requests for her to stop, finds out who your
boyfriend is; the color draining from her face and her legs immediately
crossing as she apologizes for being a nuisance.
It gives you a mock sense of invincibility. That you can win
any fight with the mention of who your friends are. Grant it, only one of them
cared for you—barely—the other three only tolerating your presence and sharing
a laugh with you every other time you hang out.
Maybe that’s why you
felt safe running your mouth at the local meathead. You were well aware of his
short fuse and clear conscience about hitting a girl. None of it stops you from taking a stand.
“Touch me one more time.” You warn, finger pointing sharp at
him and glare set in place.
Patrick stands watch by Belch’s car. Arms folded over his
chest, he smiles with amusement, elbowing Henry at the scene you were causing.
He found it cute how you put on airs of being a tough girl when he knew
firsthand how quick you fold under pressure.
Belch watches with a hint more concern. “Should we help her?”
The boy was twice your size, one punch and you’d be nursing a black eye for
weeks, if you were lucky. Your teeth being scattered across the school
courtyard was also a viable possibility.
“Nah.” Patrick laughs quietly as you slap the
boy across the face. He’ll take care of the oaf for touching his girl in that kind of manner later. But for now, he’d
let you have your moment.
“Whatcha gonna do?” You taunt, hands on hips and pride worn
on your sleeve. “You fuckin’ perv—“
You black out before you register the pain from a meaty fist making contact with your eye. Not that it eases Hockstetter’s temperament.
Righteous rage wells within him, his fist curl into themselves and he moves
briskly across the courtyard shouting. “Who the hell do you think you are?”
The others rush by his side, crowding the boy up against a
“Huh??” Patrick grabs him by the collar, shoving him against
the wall, hard.
“S-she was a bitch.”
“That over there.” He points to your lifeless body that now
had a gathering around it. “That bitch, is my fuck toy. And you damn just bout
broke her. Now they’re going to return the favor.”
Patrick undoes his
grasp on the boy and leaves, walking over toward s you. Henry and Vic fill in
the gap. The gang takes a sick pleasure in wailing the boy into submission,
screaming insults at him just daring him to try to get up so they can kick him
You wake up to light slaps on your cheek and Patrick
Hockstetter’s lecherous smile directly above you. “Wakey wakey, Princess.”
You blink once and suddenly become aware of the throbbing
pain in your eye. “Ugh, what happen?”
“You got yourself a black eye.” He curls his fingers into
your hair, letting the locks tumble out of his grasp. “Pretty stupid.”
Your face takes on an annoyed hue. The faintest of memories
regain color as the events leading up to this moment collectively return. Shit. “How long have I been out?”
“Bout a minute. You need to be more careful.”
“What, you worried about me? Could you actually loveee me?” You tease, then yelp when
his grip on your hair tightens around the roots. His smile was still present,
growing unnerving by the second with the sun positioned right above him,
haloing his head and casting a hallow expression.
He leans down, voice tense. “You are the most expensive fuck I’ve ever
had.” What with the mandatory monthly dates and expected birthday gifts. He
puts up with it because you happen to also be the best fuck he’s ever had. “I’m
not going to be happy if you get broken by someone else. Got it?” He tugs your
hair for emphasis and you whine, nodding your head.
“Good, girl.” He kisses your now forming black eye, intentional
applying more pressure than necessary. You can feel him smirk when you wince. His
touch returns to a gentler setting and he tucks a rogue collection of stray
hairs behind your ear.
The soothing motions lull you into a state of rest and you enjoy the beautiful day, complimentary breeze, and the cries of that asshole begging Henry to stop. Being a wannabe gangster sure has it’s perks.
Requested: nope! I’m just real tired and the thought of doing bed time stuff w/ Tom popped into my head so here we are.
Rating: PG, cursing (maybe?? Not too sure)
Summary: Ever since you’d started to sleep at Tom’s the two of you had developed a routine, almost like clock work the two of you completed the cycle every night. It was simple and mundane, but it was together.
“YN, I’m tired, are you almost done?” Tom called out to you from the wide door frame of your shared living room. He paused, leaning on the wall. Wearing only a pair of blue plaid pajama pants that hung low on his hips, brushing the tops of his feet. You glanced up from your work on the computer, typing away at your laptop, eyes sore from staring at the screen so long, it was late, the time starting to turn into AM rather than PM, even Tess was asleep, taking a break from following everyone around the house.
“Yeah, just,” you paused to yawn, stretching your arms above your head, “a few more minuets and I’ll be up. Ya’ don’t ‘ave to wait for me, y'know.” Tom came to sit beside you on the couch, leaning his head on your shoulder.
“Y'know it feels weird to get in bed without ya bein’ there. I don’t mind waiting,” Tom said softly, his hair tickling your neck and the area of your chest that your t-shirt left exposed.
“Alright, but don’t stay up too long for me, you’re so tired from traveling and I-” Tom cut you off, “that’s bull and you know it, I’ll wait for ya, babe, don’t worry. I’m not too tired,”
Tom was clearly all talk, because within a few quiet minuets of you rhythmically typing on the keyboard of your laptop, Tom had fallen asleep on your shoulder, breathing softly, his chest rising and falling serenely.
Finally, you were finished. You saved your work and closed the lid of your computer, setting it to the side with one hand as not to wake Tom before you had to. You grabbed a pillow from behind yo hand tried to swap it out for your shoulder as seamlessly as possible, allowing Tom’s body to slump into the seat of the couch where you had been sitting before, grabbing a blanket and covering his body gingerly with it. You had almost made it out of the room, your finger on the light switch about to turn off the lights when you head Tom stir awake.
“You ready, love?” You smiled as Tom sat up on the couch, pretending to be wide awake.
“See, I told ya that I’d be awake the whole time,” he teased, you both knowing that he was too tired to do that. “Of course, babe. Let’s get ya t’ bed alright?” You yawned again, making Tom yawn after you as you walked up the stairs to your bathroom, washing your face and applying creams and brushing your teeth. Tom washed his face and brushed his teeth and sat on the floor behind you while you finished up, head slumped against the wall.
“Alright, babe, sorry to keep you up so long,” you gave him a hand up and the two of you completed the short walk to your bedroom hand in hand. He shook his head, “don’t worry babe, I’d never be mad about losing sleep if it meant I could be with you longer,” he was half asleep as he said the words, but you could tell he meant them even if they were a little cheesy.
“I love you,” you said, pulling back the blankets and climbing in alongside Tom. “I love you so much,” he said, pulling you close to him and kissing your forehead.
This was how nearly every night went with Tom, and neither of you would want it any other way.
Series: Fairy Tail. Rating: High T - M. Genre(s): mystery, romance, drama, action, fantasy. Pairings: NaLu, Gruvia, Gajevy, Jerza. Triggers: blood, violence. CH1 POV: Juvia Lockser. All Chapters: here.
Summary: They say that dead men tell no tales, but the body from the canal just won’t stop talking. Magnolia is on lock-down. Natsu’s wife is missing. And the things they were keeping out just got in. In this little town tainted with blood, knowledge is death. And Lucy Heartfilia knew too much.
;Our story binds us like right and wrong. Your hand in mine, marching to the beat of the storm. And we walk together into the light. And my love will be your armour tonight. We are lionhearts. And we stand together facing a war. And our love is gonna conquer it all. We are lionhearts.
Something was coming. Gray squeezed Juvia’s hand. The wind howled in warning, urging them onward. Trees hissed and rustled in the breeze. Behind them, something snapped. Branches splintered and spat in the wind, scratching at her skin. Something lunged from the side. Juvia screamed.
Gray plunged his knife into the thing’s side, cleaving through taut skin. It struck Juvia across the face with its massive hand, wailing in agony. Black blood streamed down its exposed rib cage, where its heart beat wildly to an audience.
Juvia’s head reeled from the blow. She checked her cheek for blood, then quickly rushed to Gray’s side. The thing came again, faster this time; a blink of motion that tossed Juvia to the ground. The thing wrestled with Gray for a time, long fingers clawing at his face, desperate for blood.
‘Stay away!’ he snarled, connecting a boot with the thing’s chest. ‘I’m warning you, Juvia!’
The thing came at him again, nearly knocking Gray off balance. It leaned in close to his neck, where it snapped pointed teeth at his vulnerable flesh. Juvia unsheathed the knife on her belt and charged at the thing’s side, knocking it to the ground. Juvia fell with it. She shoved the blade into its heart, twisting and stabbing repeatedly until it fell still. Blood sprayed in an arc, splattering the creature’s face and neck. The monster lay sprawled on the ground, silent.
Alright, Witches, Wizards, Muggles, and magical creatures big and small, hold onto your broomsticks because I’m about to tell you why I do not like Harry Potter and the Cursed Child nor accept it as canon.
Spoilers ahead. Obviously. but c’mon who hasn’t read it or been spoiled by nowAlso, it got super long.
Let’s start off by saying: it’s been months since I read it. If I get some things off a little, go ahead and tell me; I’ll edit the rant and correct it. If you just don’t agree with me… that’s great for you. Okay? We good? That’s all the disclaimer you’re getting. Moving on!
Where do I begin? Um… Let’s recap shall we?
It starts with Albus Severus Potter (who’s name I still cannot get over) meeting and becoming friends with Scorpius Malfoy.
Okay. Great. We’ve all wanted that for years. No problem.
We’ve also played with the idea of Albus in Slytherin for years. I have no problem with that either.
What I do have problems with is the way Albus is treated after he is put in Slytherin. He’s the outcast of his family. He’s the “disappointing son”. After Harry’s canon “the bravest man I knew was Slytherin” speech (don’t get me started on Snape), I expected a bit better treatment of Slytherins. But Albus is Slytherin and looked at sideways by the entire cast, except Scorpius. This could easily become a rant about Slytherin’s and stereotypes and treatment, but I give enough of those already.
My issues are mostly with Albus’ personality. Now, I didn’t write the character. He’s not mine. I don’t have the authority to tell anyone how he should be. All I can do is have headcanons. But “canon” Albus doesn’t exactly display a lot of Slytherin traits. Sure he sneaks around, but so does Harry, Ron, and Hermione and they’re all Gryffindor. If my memory serves me correctly, Albus goes to Slytherin because he basically thinks, “Well, the Gryffindors I know suck, let’s try Slytherin.”it’s been a while since I read it okay
Albus is jaded by the time the plot picks up. He doesn’t like flying, isn’t that good at it or Quidditch (which honestly feels like they’re just trying to make him as unlike Harry as possible which I could handle if it wasn’t so badly written), and is basically convinced his life is horrible. (I’ll get into why a little later.) This kid shows no Slytherin traits that I remember. He hardly shows any traits really. I think it was the play format, but Albus becomes a stereotypical teenager who has daddy issues and doesn’t like his life.
Scorpius I don’t really have a big problem with, besides it going against my personal headcanons. He at least shows a bit more Slytherin traits than jaded Albus. I feel like they were trying to break Slytherin stereotypes with him- which is great and all, but it almost makes me feel like that’s all Scorpius’ personality was. As if he was made to simply disrupt our preconceived ideas of what Slytherin is. I don’t like it. Stereotypes are something I can’t stand, but come on, people, don’t strip my house of what we actually are.
Okay, moving on from Slytherin.
Let’s take a step back from the new characters and visit the one’s we already know, we already love. Oh wait, they’ve been ripped to shreds.
hey! surprise! i’m leaving on june 17th for about two and a half months, with limited access to wifi, so i’m about to go on semi-hiatus. before i left i wanted to make a mutuals appreciation post, because tumblr has been a big part of this past year, and i love my mutuals a LOT!!
some of you guys will have little ☼ symbols next to your urls. this links to a little post with a message from me, because i have a lot of love in my heart. hope they come off friendly and cool and not overzealous and annoying. i love and will miss you guys, although i’ll probably be around for the next week ♡ hope everyone has a great summer!!
@rahatsizyazilar asked for15. A kiss because I have literally been watching you all night and I can’t take anymore.
Soo…I know I said I was going to bed… but then I wrote this from Hiccup’s perspective… and then wrote another from Astrid’s because of reasons. So now I really am going to bed.
Both set somewhere before HTTYD 2 and both happen at different times.
Hiccup watched as Astrid’s fingers toyed with the rim of the cup. Her face was a picture of concentration as she listened to the tale of how Sven’s sheep got loose - again. The once Silent Sven claimed the whole ordeal to be a mystery, but Astrid had caught the twins dismantling the fences.
Not that Hiccup heard a word of this, too distracted by the way the torchlight reflected in Astrid’s golden hair and the way she tugged on her braid when she was concentrating hard on something.
Raising his tankard to his lips, Hiccup finished the last of his ale. His eyes never left Astrid.
Gods, she was beautiful and she was so good with the people of Berk, as much as she complained about it. She took the time to listen to them and worked to help solve their problems. Hiccup knew that most of the villagers were just as comfortable going to Astrid for advice as they were going to him. It relieved some of the pressure, but Hiccup felt a little guilty.
This life of being Chief, of serving the village, he’d been born into it, but Astrid… well, she was Astrid. She took it all in her stride and Hiccup loved her.
He noticed Astrid was returning his state and realised belatedly that she had asked him a question.
Astrid got that little crinkle between her eyes, the one where she was laughing silently at something he’d done. She shook her head in disbelief, turning back to the conversation.
It was too much. Hiccup had been watching Astrid all night, hanging back from the crowds and the conversation and just… watching. She was so easy to watch.
“Sorry, can I just borrow her for one moment?” He caught the fingers playing with the braid and pulled Astrid through the crowd.
“Hiccup? Where are you taking-”
Hiccup pulled Astrid just outside the doors to the Great Hall. He wrapped his arms around her and his mouth was on hers.
He could taste the wine on her lips and wondered briefly if she could taste the ale on his. It wasn’t worth another thought though, because Astrid was tangling her hands in his hair, pulling him close and her mouth was oh so eager on his.
Finally they pulled apart.
“What was that for?” Astrid asked. She kept Hiccup close, his body heat welcome in the cold.
“I couldn’t help myself.” Hiccup grinned. He was giddy from joy the alcohol.
Astrid gave him a playful shove. “Want to do it again?” She asked.
The people of Berk loved Hiccup.
Astrid didn’t blame them. She loved Hiccup. He was smart and funny and Gods, did he look good in leather.
She watched him from across the Great Hall. He was standing with his father, discussing something with the foreign Viking’s visiting Berk.
Astrid assumed they were talking about dragons. It was Hiccup’s favourite subject. His face would light up with excitement every time. Astrid didn’t even mind him geeking out over some new dragon ability when she got to watch the way his face shone.
Given the expression Hiccup was wearing now, she was betting the conversation was dragon related. Astrid couldn’t actually hear what they were saying over the buzz of the crowd.
Stoick had put on a massive feast to welcome the new Viking’s. Every one was celebrating. Eating and drinking and talking and laughing.
Astrid had sat with her family and had been unable to get near Hiccup, distracted and interrupted by the well-meaning villagers who knew of her relationship with the Chief’s son.
Tuning out of the conversation at her own table, Astrid stared over and Hiccup and his father. From the looks of it, Stoick had banned Hiccup from wearing his flying leathers. Instead he was wearing dark brown trousers and a deep green tunic. A fur cloak draped across his broad shoulders. Astrid couldn’t help but admire her boyfriend from a distance.
She smirked as Hiccup threw his hand up in one of his wild gestures. His talking was always so animated, involving his whole body. He knocked a cup over and Astrid stifled a laugh.
Hiccup had grown up and filled out over the last five years, but the awkward, clumsy fifteen year old was still in there.
She wanted to talk to him. Astrid was sure he’d already have stories about their visitors. Would it be rude for her to go over? Stoick knew about her and Hiccup, she was sure of it, though they hadn’t come out and told him yet. Honestly, their relationship was the worst kept secret on Berk.
Hiccup was laughing at something. Astrid couldn’t just make it out over the swirling conversation around her. He was running his hand through his hair - Astrid loved Hiccup’s hair, even if she did tease him about it - and turning. He’d kept the two braids she’d twisted earlier that day.
Making up her mind, Astrid stood.
She wound through the tables, avoiding eye contact with anyone lest they attempt to strike up a conversation. She came to a stop just behind Hiccup.
“Ah Astrid, there you are.” Stoick introduced her to the group. “You know we were just talking about you lass.”
Astrid felt her cheeks heating up. “Oh,” she glanced at Hiccup. “Can I uh, borrow you for a moment?”
Stoick let out a booming laugh.
“Go lad,” he told his son. “We’ve kept you here long enough. Go enjoy the celebration.” He waved the two off.
Astrid pulled Hiccup through the hall.
“Is everything alright?” He asked when Astrid directed him to one of the smaller side entrances.
He tugged her into a corner when she didn’t respond. A callused hand cupped her cheek.
“I’m fine,” Astrid told him. “Really, I was just watching you and I-” She wasn’t sure how to put her thoughts into words, so instead she reached up, twisting her hands into Hiccup’s hair and kissed him.
His mouth was parted slightly in surprise, but Hiccup was quick to recover his composure. His hands went to Astrid’s waist as they made out in the shadows.
Astrid broke away first. “We should go back.”
Hiccup’s hair was a complete mess. Astrid made an attempt to smooth it out for him. She looked down at her own clothing, patting down the fabric of the dress her mother had encouraged her to wear.
“I suppose Dad will be wondering where we went.” Hiccup took Astrid’s hand in his. “Ready Milady?”
Your reactions give me life! Can you do one with shownu, wonho, minhyuk and jooheon where they feel insecure and You comfort them? Thanks!
They feel insecure and you comfort them (Shownu, Wonho, Minhyuk & Jooheon)
Shownu; You got informed that all of the members were back at the dorm except for Hyunwoo, so you decided to go and see him. Knowing he was at the practice room, you made your way there, the staff letting you in as they already know you. You quietly walked into the practice room, seeing Hyunwoo dancing with no music while staring at the mirror, completely focused to the point where he didn’t even see you come in. You’d walk over to him and wrap your arms around him from the back gently, startling him a little. He’d turn around and smile at you once he saw you.
“Oh! Hey jagi..”
He’d wrap his arms around you and sigh softly, hugging you for a little longer than usual. Though you didn’t mind at all, and you hugged him back tightly. You could already tell that he was stressed from how he hugged you. “What’s wrong, Hyunwoo..?” You’d ask, concerned. He’d pull away and wipe the sweat off his forehead with the back of his hand, “I just.. I can’t get these moves right. No matter how hard i try i just can’t.” He’d explain with a frown and rub his eyes. You would blink and wrap your arms around him, “Hyunwoo-yah.. Don’t over-work yourself, okay? You’re such an amazing dancer, but maybe you need to rest a little before continuing. Go home, sleep it off, and start again tomorrow. I’m sure you’ll be just fine tomorrow, okay? I’m 100% sure.” You’d comfort him, making him nod and relax a little more.
15 minutes later you’d hear the doorbell ring, and you would rush to open the door. You could already tell something was wrong with the way Hoseok typed. You’d open the door and look at Hoseok, who was biting on his lower lip, his eyes a little teary and his hair messy, pushed back.
“Hoseok-ah.. What’s wrong?”
You’d raise your eyebrows and pull him inside, closing the door behind you two. He’d sniffle a little, stubborn about letting his tears fall, he’d wrap his arms around you and hug you tightly, “I’m.. I don’t feel well..” He’d mumble, making you widen your eyes. “Are you sick?”. Hoseok would shake his head and close his eyes, “No, no.. I just.. I don’t feel good. I can’t do anything right recently. I can’t have my body the way i want to, i keep messing up..” He’d gulp and pull away from the hug, staring at the floor. You’d feel your heart break a little, seeing him like this, on the edge of breaking down. You would take his hand and walk him over to the couch, sitting him down. “Come here.” You’d pull him close, wrapping your arms around him tightly, “Your body is perfect just the way it is, Hoseok-ah. Please don’t be down.. Don’t force yourself, hm? You’re so, so gorgeous, and so talented.” You’d comfort him, rubbing his back, making him hug you tightly. He’d end up falling asleep with his arms wrapped around you tightly, and his head against your shoulder.
Minhyuk; You two decided to hang out at the dorm since it was his day off. You haven’t seen him in a while, so you were really excited to see him. Though when he hugged you and pulled you inside, you could tell that something was wrong and that his smile was mostly forced. You decided to wait a little and try and figure out if you were right, so you two were sitting on the couch, talking, and Minhyuk was definitely much quieter, which made you worried.
“Minhyuk-ah, are you okay? What’s wrong?”
You’d ask, brows furrowed. It would frustrate you a little, seeing him brush it off and tell you he was just fine. Soon though you forced him to tell you what it was, and it made your heart drop.
“I read a few comments online.. They weren’t nice.. Saying things like i’m fake, i’m too loud, i’m annoying, i’m ugly..” He named the comments as he stared at his lap. You raised your eyebrows and shook your head, taking his hands in yours, “Oh God.. You know none of them are true, right? You’re so amazing, please don’t pay attention to those comments. People have nothing better to do with their lives so they write these types of comments. They aren’t true, you’re so handsome, you bring so much happiness and excitement, you give everyone so much energy every day, i promise you everyone is so happy to have you in their lives.” You’d squeeze his hands a little, though he’d pull them away and instead hug you, nuzzling into your neck. “Thank you, baby..”.
Jooheon; You two would be at the studio, you sitting on the couch, minding your own business while Jooheon worked on his music. You two did this quite often, and you liked it. Even if you two didn’t speak to each other, just being next to each other made you two happy to no end. You glanced at the clock which read 1:30am.
“Jooheonie, Take a break?”
You’d ask him and stand up, walking over to him. You’d place your hands on his shoulder’s gently, “You’ve been working for an hour and a half non stop. Take a break.” You squeezed his shoulders a little. Jooheon shook his head and continued to work, the mouse clicking every two seconds.
“I can’t. I have to finish this.”
“Jooheon-ah.. Come on-”
“I said no! I have so much to do, aish..”
He’d sigh, though almost immediately realize that he raised his voice a little just then. He’d feel the grip on his shoulders lighten, and he’d quickly turn around to look up at you, taking you hand in his. “I’m sorry baby.. I didn’t mean to talk to you like that. I’m just.. stressed. It’s not going well, at all..” He’d mumble and release a deep sigh, bringing the back of your hand to his lips.
You’d bite the inside of your cheek and sit down next to him, reaching out ot caress his hair, “Maybe it’s not going well because you won’t rest? I know you want to do it and finish it quickly, make it perfect, but if you don’t rest you’ll get stressed, and when you’re stressed you won’t work well. Jooheon-ah, the music you create is so amazing, it really is. But take care of yourself too, it will turn out the way you want it to once you’re well rested and your head is clear.”.
Jooheon would stare at you a lot, and when you finished talking, he’d nod a little, “I’ll take a break, only if you promise to hold me.”
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The train’s window ices the left side of your face as you lean against it. Snowflakes drift down from the clouded sky, falling past your eyes, each tiny flake with its own design melting before anyone can appreciate it. The train huffs and others around you talk, their voices melding together into an indistinguishable clamor. Shouts come from the open door nearby, the one that lets anyone into the growling machine. You don’t look at the door, just watch the snow float past your window and pile up on the sidewalk nearby.
You sneak down, careful where you place your feet. Climbing into the case with one hand is tricky, but you don’t let that stop you. The sweet scent of the shed surrounds you as you enter it, peering around for Newt. He’s gone, though, so you step out into the field, scanning it. The grass nearby crackles under a foot.
Ducking back into the shed, you crouch behind a wide pot, peeking through the leaves. A pair of dirty boots step onto the creaking wood, sending a cloud of dust into the air. You fight a smile as they step past you, completely unaware of your presence.
Your knees ache and the gift in your hand begins to drip between your fingers as you wait for the boots to turn away from you. They never do, though, instead walking past your hiding spot again. You tense your muscles, preparing to leap from your spot. Before you can, though, the plant hiding your face is swept to the side.
Newt laughs at your stunned expression. “What are you doing?”
You move your hand behind your back, “Looking for your, um, lost cork?”
Newt’s face contorts into a confused frown. “I haven’t lost one, have I?”
You grin. “I haven’t found it yet. Want to know what I did find?”
I got several aggressive anon messages after my last post and I’m very tired of this so I’m going to explain myself once.
The problem in the whole Goro debate seems to be a false view on abuse victims and not if he’s innocent or responsible for what he has done. Of course he is responsible but that doesn’t mean he should be hold accountable for it in the same way a “normal” person should. There is one important point that is often either missed or dismissed: Goro is a traumatised teenager and not a healthy adult.