if these two ever break up i'll never get over it

Those Four Words

Summary: “You absolute fucking prick.”

Word count: 1.6k

Rating: Teen+

Warnings: Swearing (guess it’s a little late for that though whoops I’ll just put that in the tags), food mention

A/N: Inspired by a debate between @botanistlester@insanityplaysfics, and some anons on Phanfiction Catalogue about whether Dan or Phil would propose. I, um, might have been one of those anons btw (*cough* #TeamEliza *cough*). I hope this serves as an acceptable compromise.

read on ao3


“Hey.”

Dan doesn’t bother to look away from the episode of Steven Universe they’re watching, acknowledging his boyfriend only with a noncommittal sound somewhere between a hum and a grunt. Phil’s using his ‘idea’ voice, and as it’s barely past ten in the morning and Dan was up pacing the lounge until nearly five, he has neither the energy nor the mental capacity to pay attention to anything more complicated than cartoons right now. He pops another spoonful of cereal into his mouth and hopes whatever Phil has to say is brief.

(He gets his wish).

“Marry me?” Phil says in the exact same tone he used last week when he suggested that they go miniature golfing in the middle of a typical London downpour.

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Make fun of my kid? I'll get you back somehow.

So I am not sure if this belongs in @prorevenge, sense it wasn’t planned on my part. It kind of just fell in my lap. Feels more than petty, so here I am.

For a bit of background: My next door neighbor is/was a college student. She lives with our actual neighbor, her boyfriend. Typical crazy college kid. Weekend parties, drinking on her patio all hours of the night, and weird hours. You know the drill. I figured she was trying to experience college life, so why not? You do you lady!

Anyways one summer night last year she was sitting out on her back patio with her girlfriends doing their drunk thing. I am out wrapping up on some stuff with my toddler daughter. She at the time had a medical thing going on that caused her to walk a little weird. Nothing life altering and something that would heal with time. She did have a weeble waddle to her, especially when running. Sometimes she would fall right over. She was out running around with the dog and the ladies next door were waving and telling her how cute she was. All good.

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PALADIN-AU season 5 parallels (PART 2)

(Part1 HERE)

When Ashi finds Aku, she’s relieved to see he isn’t in any danger, but rather silently sitting by a little tombstone with the name “Kuni” carved on its side.

Though he can’t bear to look at his daughter now, he feels he owes her an explanation;

He used to have a child he looked after as if she were his own, but it was unwise to open his heart to a mortal creature; for it was only a matter of time before his foe used that to his advantage and hurt him through her.

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Day 1: My room turned into a ocean. I swear I found fishes and sharks swarming into my lungs. Or maybe that was the remains of you trying not to escape but desperately needing to
Day 2: You weren’t at school today and I should’ve been happy, I was more sad
Day 3: I thought I was ready to move on, then I saw you with her.
Day 4: We haven’t spoken in days now. My mind thinks its being shoved off a cliff.
Day 5: I wish it would just hit the bottom
Day 6: This will be the first weekend we dont hang out. I know you’ll be seeing her and I know youll be smiling without me. I’m trying hard to learn how to too
Day 7: I asked you for help on a history assignment and you replied with “Ask Amber im busy”. I texted back: “Tell Emma I said hi”
Day 8: You posted a video with her on the only social media site you have. When I saw it I erupted. I spewed lava every where, oh god its every where
Day 9: My mom made me sleep next to her on the couch. She was afraid I would try and do something like I did two years ago when another guy tore up my heart. I actually had thought about it
Day 10: I slept in your sweatshirt one last time so i can feel myself engulfed in you. I know you wanted them back so I had to feel you and smell you one last time.
Day 11: I gave you all of your stuff back and you thought I looked like a warrior but really I went home and tried getting you out of my bloodstream
Day 12: when will my eyes stop flowing?
Day 13: I snuck out with a boy and smoked weed on his couch. He talked about love and how much it hurt. I only pictured you.
Day 14: I woke up next to that same boy and I woke up screaming. The boy was worried and confused but I knew why I screamed. I imagined you laying with another girl on your couch. I ran out of his house so fast you’d think Id be better at running from you.
Day 15: Its spring break and im with my best friend and your with her and i swear i can feel you tracing her spine the way you used to trace mine
Day 16: I ignored your birthday and it felt worse than the puking i did that night
Day 17: Im treading icy water while you’re swimming away from me, I guess I just hope you’ll loop around and find your way back to the shattered, but still there, us
Day 18: I don’t remember the sound of your voice I don’t remember the color of your eyes I don’t remember your the taste of your lips
Day19: No amount of screaming gets your name out of my head
Day 20: I got on a plane today and when we took off I swear i almost walked to the door and started flying
Day 21: They say it takes 21 days fo break a habit but I think I just manage to fall more in love with a greedy monster
Day 22: I saw you today and wished you a happy late birthday and promised we’d watch the third Hobbit together. I’m beginning to hate myself more
Day 23: Its the end of the month maybe next month won’t be filled with thoughts of you and killing myself. i think im beginning to be over you
Day 24: april fools
Day 25: i think i understand now. when you first told me you loved me your mouth curled up on the edges, two days before you left when i gave my bare self to you your mouth was a straight line when saying i love you
Day 26: if you’re trying to kill me its working
Day 27: i woke up this morning to my blankets and pillows piled in a corner in my room. its something s ghost would do to make his presence known. im haunting myself. or maybe its the ghost of us tsking over my body
Day 28: its almost been a month since you told me it was never me. i almost texted you happy easter but i saw those text messages and just got angry
Day 29: I hate that you act like you didnt break my heart. i hate that you think im fine that im not writing a shit poem sbout your shit personality
Day 30: thirty days since you’ve wanted me. thirty days since i told you i love you. thirty days since you’ve slipped from my fingers. i tried catching you. you’ve been gone far too long. thirty days is too long
Day 31: i had a nightmare last night about you. you told me you loved me and kissed my forehead. i woke up breathing heavily and shaking. i want you out of my life
Day 32: running on no sleep isn’t fun
Day 33: ive been awake for over 50 hours in fear that ill see you in my dreams again. i cant risk that. it hurts so much. get out of my head
Day 34: my mother told me that love will do this. that its cruel and torturous and breaks you into such little pieces not even yourself can pick up all the pieces. you know where they all are, please come back and pick them up
Day 35: i talked to another guy last night we stayed up late and he asked me questions about you. we were sober so it wasn’t easy spitting up vowels and similies and euphemisms explaining the empty feeling in my chest after you left
Day 36: fuck if i stopped seeing you everyday i swear id be over you.
Day 37: my knee didnt touch your leg like it used it i promise i didnt do that fuck
Day 38: you told me that the wrinkles on my leg bothered you when i sat down. thats not what you said when we were trying not to get caught in the back of your car
Day 39: you told me you’d take me to prom and in two days itll just be another day you promised to spend with me. its funny how our plans turned to dust in a matter of seconds after cleaning
Day 40: the thunderstorm of us was inside of you and maybe that why it felt so close. i keep counting the seconds between the boom and light hoping you arent moving away buy i fear that you are already letting others feel your storm. the plants you grew are dying. maybe you should come back to water them
Day 41: ten days since its been a month since you left. i cried at prom because all i could look for in the crowd was you.
Day 42: i got so drunk all i could see was your face. the guy i fucked kept telling me his name wasn’t yours. i just screamed and cried because you’re all i still think about despite your efforts to continue to push me away
Day 43: i should be getting high today but if i do ill just write more and think more about a guy who will never care
Day 44: i think im trying to gain feelings for someone else because it’ll make moving on from you easier. im afraid to write that it hasnt
Day 45: you traces my leg like you used to. it was like dandelion tea. it made my insides fill with happiness. you’re my yellow paint.
Day 46: Van Gogh used to eat yellow paint because he thought it would put happiness inside him. He would consume it everyday in the hopes that it would bring his sadness to rest despite the fact that it could kill him first. i gues you were my yellow paint emphasis on the were. see im not going to write about you anymore, because when i write you down im under the impression that you’ll stay with the words but you don’t. this is the last sentence I’ll ever write about you

Rest

Uhh so this was in my drafts which I havent checked in weeks and totally forgot about? Anyway seeing as the fic I was supposed to be posting today got deleted,,, yall can have this one from like 5 months ago instead lmao.


Tony really should have noticed sooner.


On the surface, nothing seemed wrong. Steve was fine. A little ragged, maybe, but fine. He acted in the same way, smiled at Tony no differently, scolded Clint no less.

Fine.

(Beware the read more, mobile users!)

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anonymous asked:

“great. perfect. nice. fuck this.” spideypool!!

Peter was more exhausted than he had been in weeks. He had been so good about sleep lately–he had even made a schedule to keep himself from having another falling-asleep-during-an-acid-lab incident–but this week had decided to be a serious dick to him.

So he found it perfectly understandable to skip his last class of the day (which was advanced mechanical engineering, so it wasn’t like he couldn’t catch up later) in favor of going home and napping. Because he had almost used his phone as a coffee stirrer an hour ago, and that seemed to make it clear the coffee wouldn’t really cover only having six hours of sleep in the past two nights combined. 

Peter yawned for about the millionth time that day and scrubbed a hand over his face as he walked up to his apartment door. He started to lazily pat at his pockets for his keys with his other hand–and came up empty.

He frowned and patted himself down again. No jingle. No pointy key-ends. Frowning harder, he dropped his backpack and started to paw through it, even though he rarely kept his keys anywhere but his pockets (they’d been stolen from his backpack once and he still wasn’t over it). Unsurprisingly and unfortunately, he came up with nothing.

Peter briefly felt the urge to cry. All he wanted was a nap. He thought back through his day. He didn’t take them out when he was in the coffee shop–he didn’t even sit down. From what he could recall, he didn’t take them out in class either (because why would he?). Which left him with one, horribly stupid option–they were still sitting on his kitchen counter.

Inside his apartment. Because he was an idiot. 

Great. Perfect. Nice. Fuck this.” he snapped at the door.

Despite being a functional adult who could deal with this problem in a rational way, Peter was very tired. So he did a rather petty thing and kicked his door, hard. 

Crying was seeming like an increasingly appealing option. Peter’s landlord already didn’t like him. He didn’t need to give him another reason to think he was a bad tenant (which, to be fair, he was, because with his superhero agenda–and his superhero friends–his apartment had been through a lot) by saying he’d lost his keys…again.

Peter sighed and sat down, leaning against his door and throwing his backpack next to him. He honestly didn’t think he had the energy to suit up and climb up to his window. He wasn’t even sure he would be able to find his window.

But he still needed to get in his apartment. Maybe he could magically learn how to pick locks without any effort. Or he could see if any of his neighbors would pick his lock for him–

Wait. I know someone who can pick locks.

Peter was both suddenly grateful and suddenly dreading what he knew he had to do. He sighed very hard and pulled out his phone and for the first time EVER dialed a number he never thought he would need to.

After two rings, he got an answer.

“Deadpool speaking.” Wade’s voice growled at him.

“Wade? It’s–Spider-man.” Peter awkwardly finished, almost just saying ‘Peter’.

The change in Wade’s tone was instant. “Yo, Spidey!” he screeched.

Peter winced and immediately regretted his decision. “Hi, Wade. I need a favor.”

“…Is it a murder-y favor? Because I’ve been trying not to do that so much and–”

“It’s not a job, Wade. I’m locked out of my apartment and I need you to pick my lock.”

There was a pause, and Peter swears he heard a snicker. “Did you web your keys to the wall or something?” Wade joked, then started to poorly cover up a laugh.

“I’m hanging up.” Peter snapped, and started to.

“Wait, wait!” Wade shouted, and Peter didn’t hang up. “I’ll help you, Spidey. Can you text me the address?”

“Yeah. Please show up before I have to sleep in my hallway.” Peter requested, then hung up. He typed out his address and sent it to Wade, who responded with a thumbs-up emoji, a winking-tongue-face emoji that Peter never understood, and informed him he’d be there in fifteen minutes.

Peter sighed and pulled out his Spider-man mask from his backpack. He really didn’t want to put it on, but Wade didn’t know his identity and Peter didn’t really think trusting him with it was a good idea.

Then again, he had just given him his address. That was almost worse, in a way. Wade was unarguably the most unstable man he knew, and he was coming over to pick Peter’s lock for him. 

Peter briefly wondered if this was how he was destined to die. Not by some super-villain, but by letting a crazy person know his address. 

I’m literally letting an axe-murderer into my house. Oh my god, this is how I die.

Peter was still busy imaging scenarios of Wade brutally murdering him when Wade showed up and raised an eyebrow at Peter’s sad scene. He was wearing jeans and a hoodie, which was surprising, though he still had both his mask and gloves on.

“Spidey?” he asked, then it clicked why Wade was looking at him funny.

Peter had forgotten to ever put his mask on.

“Uh, yeah. Hi, Wade.”

Wade suddenly slapped a hand over his eyes. “You forgot your mask.”

Peter sighed. “I guess I did. But I also gave you my address, so I figured if you were gonna murder me I couldn’t stop you.”

“What?”

“Never mind. I’m tired. Please break into my apartment so I can sleep.” Peter said, gesturing at the door handle by his head.

Wade chuckled and walked over. He knelt down next to Peter and started to work on the lock with a bunch of tools that looked like torture devices. “So, not that I’m complaining, but why did you call me for this? You’ve never even used my number before.”

“Long story short, my landlord hates me already and everyone else would never let me live down leaving my keys in my apartment and not realizing it until now.”

That’s fair.” Wade shrugged, then the door made a click and Wade turned the handle, and to Peter’s sleepy amazement, it opened. “Ta-da. All better.”

Peter gaped at how fast Wade had done that. After a second of chuckling at him, Wade offered him a hand. Peter took it and was heaved to his feet. He grabbed his backpack and entered, expecting Wade to follow.

But he didn’t. Wade stayed in the doorway, rocking back and forth on his feet.

Peter turned back and looked at him. He looked like a lost puppy. Well, a lost puppy who was trying to see as much as he possibly could from a doorway. Peter sighed. “Just come in.”

Wade giggled and ran in, immediately going everywhere. “I’m in Spider-man’s apartment!”

Peter slowly followed him, eventually ended up in his bedroom, where Wade was fiddling with things on his desk. “Don’t break anything.” he ordered, then promptly collapsed onto his bed face-down.

After a moment, he felt a weight on the other side of the bed. “Aw, is Spidey sleepy?” Wade cooed.

“Fuck off.” Peter snapped, and Wade laughed.

“That’s fair. I like your apartment, by the way. Tasteful.”

Peter snorted. “Does it accurately show off my college student budget?”

“Impeccably.” Wade said, flopping down on the bed next to him. “Dude, how old is this mattress?”

“I wouldn’t be surprised if it witnessed JFK’s murder, to be honest.”

Wade laughed, then they fell into silence. Peter was honestly half-asleep before Wade broke the silence again, and even then he didn’t really wake up. “Should I go?”

“Hmm?” Peter asked, turning to look at him.

“Should I leave? You seem about two seconds away from hibernation.”

Peter shrugged. “Probably. I’m gonna sleep for about fifty hours now.”

Wade smiled at him and sat up. “That’s fair. See you on your next patrol?”

“Considering you know where I live, I don’t think I can stop you from showing up to all of them.”

“Probably not. Sleep well, Spidey.”

Peter just hummed an answer and snuggled deeper into his pillow, listening to Wade’s footsteps get fainter–then get louder again.

Wade poked his head back into Peter’s room. “For the record, I like your face.”

Peter rolled his eyes. “Go home, Wade.”

“It’s a nice face. Excellent face. That hair is killer. Do you condition?”

Wade.”

Right, right. I’m going. Call me if you need a number for an actual locksmith, baby boy.” Wade chuckled, then left for real.

Peter threw his cover onto himself, rolled over into the spot Wade had made surprisingly warm in his short time there, and slept better than he had in what felt like years. 

anonymous asked:

prompt: arin rages so hard at a game that he actually starts crying. dan quickly turns off the capture and then they both lie on the couch as dan strokes arin's hair and shooshes him and tries to calm him down.

okay so i’ve got a few prompts in my inbox, but the minute i saw this one, i immediately sat down and wrote. i love this so goddamn much.

it’s got everything–caring, warm danny, emotionally compromised arin, and feelsy hurt/comfort. add in egobang and you’ve got the perfect mix.

i love them. thanks for the prompt! i hope you like it!


One thing that Danny was pretty proud of was his ability to sense Arin’s mood and general emotions at any given time.

For example, when he first was getting to know Arin, he’d get worried after a con when Arin would suddenly go quiet and enter a slump. When he’d asked Suzy, she’d just explained that Arin “got like this” after cons, and was perfectly fine. He just needed some time to recuperate.

Now it was Danny who explained to concerned friends what was happening to Arin after cons. He’d always get a sort of swell in his chest, as though he were oddly proud to know Arin this personally.

That was to be expected, though. Especially after realizing he was in love with Arin a few months ago.

After a lot of confusion involving Danny avoiding Arin for two weeks and a confused and hurt Arin practically breaking down Danny’s front door, he and Arin had shared a personal conversation involving feelings and fears. They’d immediately gone to Suzy, because she had an important place in this conversation, too.

But that was the past now, and Danny still marveled at the fact that he could call Arin his boyfriend casually and it was considered normal. Arin and Suzy were husband and wife, but he and Arin were boyfriends.

He was happy with that. Arin had more than enough love to share, and Suzy thought it was marvelous that they made each other happy. He still couldn’t believe a person as kind and understanding as Suzy existed.

Which brought him to his current situation.

Arin was frowning at the screen, his brow furrowed as he attempted the boss battle for the sixth time. Danny was beginning to worry about him.

Arin had been working extremely hard the past few weeks. He’d hardly spent any time with Danny, as he’d been flying from one project to the next. Danny had also been very busy, but he knew Arin had a tendency to overwork. He was worried that Arin hadn’t been taking proper care of himself.

Danny had asked earlier, tentatively, if Arin was doing alright. Arin had chuckled and kissed Danny’s forehead fondly, telling him that he was fine. But Danny watched him now with concerned eyes; it was just like Arin to worry about everyone but himself.

Now, as Arin died for the seventh time, Danny bit his lip.

“Wanna take a break, dude? This boss looks pretty rough.”

Arin’s head jerked, his eyes darting to follow his character. “Nah, man, it’s fine–shit–totally fine. I’ve got this–goddammit!”

The game over screen flashed in front of them for only a moment before Arin started it up again, throwing his character back into the fight. Danny glanced at Arin, unsure.

“Okay, but only a couple more tries. Then we’re stopping.”

He’d tried to sound firm, but Arin didn’t even seem to register his command as he pushed on. “The trick is, to, um…just…”

With a sickening crack the game over screen flashed at them again, and Arin seemed to still, his face bright red.

Danny prepared himself for the outburst of curses and yells. 

But they never came.

Arin continued staring at the screen, his eyes dropping in defeat. He took a deep breath, glancing up again, and opened his mouth.

Arin burst into tears.

It was so startling Danny jumped, not used to seeing Arin so distraught. In fact, he could only recall seeing Arin cry before a handful of times, and never like this. It was uncanny to see the normally cheerful man look so…small.

He did the first thing that came to mind, which was reach out for Arin. He sought Arin’s familiar form, curling his arms protectively around him. “Hey. Hey, Big Cat. C’mere.”

Arin dropped the forgotten controller, curling into Danny’s chest. His hands gripped Danny’s old t-shirt, but he didn’t give a shit. He stroked Arin’s back soothingly, resting his head atop Arin’s. “Let it all out, big guy. Shh, I’ve got you. I’m here for you, baby.”

The cries were heart-wrenching, tearing a hole in Danny’s heart. Arin sounded so desolate and unhappy that Danny just wanted to wrap him up in a safe little ball and never let anything bad touch Arin ever again.

After a few sniffles, the wails subsided, and Arin’s grip on Danny’s shirt loosened. “Sorry,” he whimpered.

Danny stroked Arin’s hair, feeling terrible. “Don’t feel sorry, Big Cat. You’ve got nothing to be sorry about. I’m worried about you.”

Arin stayed hidden for another moment before turning his head upward to look at Danny. His heart ached at the sight of Arin’s puffy eyes and wet face. “I just…sometimes all the work catches up to me…and I miss you so goddamn much and feel guilty because I hardly get to spend any time with Suzy…and then I just feel all the weight of everything on my shoulders, but it’s my job…I’m supposed to be able to handle all of this, Danny.”

It’s the way Arin says Danny that really breaks in heart in two. Arin doesn’t use the affectionate term very often, and the way he says it so tenderly yet brokenly makes him hold Arin even tighter.

“You don’t need to do all that by yourself, baby,” Danny murmured, gently wiping the tears off Arin’s cheeks. “We’re all here to help you. No one expects you to do everything alone. We’re more concerned about you taking good care of yourself.” Danny smiled down at him, feeling an overwhelming rush of love and affection. “I’ll take care of you properly, I promise. But you need to let me help, okay, Big Cat?”

A smile flickered across Arin’s face, and he sighed, resting his head on Danny’s shoulder. “You’re the best. I love you.”

It’s a simple statement, but it makes Danny’s heart catch in his throat, and a tingly feeling shoots down his spine. He swallowed his giddiness, letting a smile stretch across his face as he buried his nose in Arin’s hair, kissing the top of his head. “I love you, too. So, so much.”

They stayed like that for a bit, letting Arin’s breathing return to normal and a feeling of warm comfort surrounded the pair. It’s moments like this that remind Danny how he fell in love with this hardworking, generous, talented, beautiful man in the first place. His heart swells with love and pride. Taking care of Arin feels better than anything he’s ever done before.

Finally, Arin shifted to sit up properly, wiping across his eyes one last time. “I needed that. You always know how to make me feel whole again.” He smiled somewhat shyly at Danny, and it’s the cutest goddamn thing Danny’s ever seen. He has to bite his lip to keep from grinning like an idiot.

“I’ll get everything set up. Just two more recordings, I promise. Then we’ll nap,” Arin decreed, walking over to retrieve the controller.

Danny watched him, adoration burning in his chest for this man. 

He never thought it was possible to feel so much devotion to another person, but if this is what it was like to take care of someone you loved, then it was the best feeling in the world.

uncommon alliances [draco malfoy]

request:  “ wowowow ive only read one of things youve written (idk if youve written more but still) and i already love your writing, since you taking requests, can you do something with the reader being rons twin sister and draco is interested™ in her and pansy is like wingwoman as fuck, but not to draco, to the reader, like theyre lowkey friends, you can take it where ever after those things tho.. thank you ❤️” - @reading-vs-reality

word count: ~1800

a/n: awww, thanks!! sorry this was sitting in my inbox for so long! i got a lil carried away with the “reader is ron’s twin” part and wrote tons (like 5000 words worth) of domestic relationship building between reader, ron, hermione, harry and ginny / the background between pansy and reader’s friendship. it might be posted later if i feel like it, but for now, this is what you got! thanks for reading and sorry if this isn’t what you wanted!

summary: sitting around a table in hogsmeade is the best place to find out secrets. also, reverse psychology ALWAYS works on a slytherin.

part zero

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Softly, My Love

Or; a relationship told through its softest moments; from firsts to lasts and everything in between.

For Enjoltaire week 2017, day #3: soft.


Their first date is what can only be described as soft. 

They meet for dinner inside of a small Thai cafe, and Grantaire’s heart does somersaults all the way through his meal. Enjolras keeps smiling at him, warmly, tentatively, and Grantaire feels himself blushing every time. 

They hold hands on the walk home; what started off as Enjolras’ fingertips lightly grazing Grantaire’s wrist gradually evolved until their hands were linked, fingers intertwined. Enjolras swings their hands lightly as they walk in tandem and Grantaire thinks his jaw is going to break from all the smiling he’s been doing. 

There’s no kissing before Enjolras walks up  the steps to his apartment and waves a small goodbye to Grantaire; instead they hug loosely for a few moments, promising to have dinner again sometime. Enjolras breaks contact with a smile and Grantaire lets himself wonder how he ever got so lucky as to have that smile bestowed upon him.


It’s snowing, the first time they kiss. 

Grantaire remembers it vividly, because Enjolras was wearing that scarf that he got last Christmas- the red, white, and blue one that Courfeyrac bought him as a joke, yet Enjolras treasures with every fibre of his being. 

He’s also wearing mittens, like, honest to God, actual red fluffy mittens that tickle the sides of Grantaire’s face when Enjolras cups it between his palms. 

“I’d really like to kiss you.” Enjolras says, tracing the outline of Grantaire’s lips with one mitten-clad thumb. “Your lips look very kissable right now.”

“It’s probably the cold.” Grantaire says, stupidly, because Enjolras just asked to kiss him and sure, they’ve gone on a few dates at this point, but still.

Enjolras smiles, his eyes creasing around the edges. “Probably.” he agrees, moving one hand down to Grantaire’s neck. “Can I?”

Grantaire can’t find the words to express just how much Enjolras can, so instead he nods, feeling the ghost of Enjolras’ lips upon his almost as soon as he moves his head. 

Enjolras’ lips are soft, which is unsurprising. His kisses are short, fleeting things, a warm mouth pressing against Grantaire’s for the barest of seconds before pulling away again. Grantaire brings his own hand up to Enjolras’ face, coaxes his lips into staying a little longer, makes the kisses slower, more languid. 

It’s almost perfect, and Enjolras smiles when their lips part, eyes still closed, as if he’s taking time to immortalise the memory behind his eyelids. 

Grantaire’s never felt happier.


Perhaps Grantaire’s favourite fact that he’s learnt about Enjolras is the way he kisses. Or, more specifically, the way he reacts to being kissed. 

Lying side by side after a busy evening of studying together and watching cat videos on YouTube, Grantaire leans over to press a single kiss to Enjolras’ temple, letting his lips linger against Enjolras’ skin a moment longer than necessary. 

As expected, Enjolras’ eyelids flutter closed. Grantaire smiles warmly. They re-open as Grantaire pulls away, tracing his movement through dark lashes. 

“You’re cute, you know that?” Grantaire asks quietly.

Enjolras scrunches up his nose, which, as Grantaire said, cute.

“You’re doing nothing to disprove my point there, Enj.”

Enjolras simply gives him an affectionate roll of the eyes before leaning in closer to Grantaire’s side. “You’re cuter.” he mumbles into the fabric of Grantaire’s sweatshirt. 

Grantaire kisses his forehead again.


Sometimes love is a big thing; a grand gesture or large announcement, the penultimate confession scene in a movie or dramatic chase for the protagonist to follow their heart.

Othertimes, it’s a smaller entity; late night conversations or shared feelings, the soft touches of natural intimacy or the simple comfort of another tangible being. 

The first time Enjolras tells Grantaire that he loves him, they’re on the couch in Grantaire’s apartment, watching the best of the best cheesy rom-com films Netflix has to offer. 

The credits are rolling, but instead of getting up, Enjolras and Grantaire stay cocooned on the couch, too content to move. 

Grantaire is debating whether it would be a good idea to turn the autoplay on, when Enjolras laces their fingers together. 

“Hey,” he says quietly. “I love you.”

Grantaire’s heart does a funny dive within his chest and he smiles before he’s even processed the full meaning of Enjolras’ words. Enjolras is staring at him intently, as if he’s trying to convey the extent of his love through his eyes alone. It’s almost enough to make Grantaire teary-eyed.

“I love you too.” Grantaire says back, even quieter, delighting in the way Enjolras seems to practically glow with the newfound knowledge. 

He smiles, and Enjolras smiles back, like they’ve just shared some sort of secret. 


“Soft.” Grantaire mumbles, running his fingers through Enjolras’ hair gently. Enjolras makes a small sound and buries himself further into the duvet. He’s never been a morning person and Grantaire chuckles to himself at all the memories he has of trying to coax a sleepy Enjolras into wakefulness with coffee and kisses.

“C’mon, sleepyhead, time to wake up. Bright and early.” Grantaire says, despite the fact that it’s eight ‘o clock on a Sunday.

“You wake up.” retorts Enjolras- not his best work, but Grantaire supposes he can be forgiven on account of how his brain still has a little longer to go before it’s functioning properly.

“I am awake, love.”

Enjolras grumbles, but maneuvers himself so that he’s half-laying across Grantaire’s chest, giving Grantaire better access to his curls. Enjolras sighs as Grantaire strokes his hair out of his face, one hand curled up against his hip and the other splayed out against Grantaire’s shoulder. Grantaire smiles as he brings Enjolras’ hand to his mouth to lay a kiss against his knuckles. “Coffee?” Grantaire asks quietly.

“God, yes. Please.” 

Grantaire hums. “Alright. Be right back.” 

Enjolras’ hand wraps around Grantaire’s wrist as he makes a sound of protest. “Stay.” he semi-whines. 

Grantaire laughs. “Enj, if you want the coffee I have to go and fetch it.”

“Stay,” Enjolras repeats, tugging Grantaire back down to lay with him. “I’d rather have you. Coffee later, cuddling now.”

Grantaire is only too happy to oblige.


Grantaire is systematically working the tension out of his boyfriend’s shoulders and upper back, cherishing the little contented hums Enjolras makes whenever he rubs a particular spot. 

“You’re always so tense.” Grantaire mutters, leaning down to press kisses against Enjolras’ shoulders.

“Mmmm, I wonder why.” mumbles back Enjolras, though the corners of his mouth are turned up ever so slightly.

They both know why; it’s a combination of stress, wearing a binder for eight hours a day, and the weight of a messenger bag that somehow always ends up heavier than it started off. (Grantaire has tried to convince Enjolras to stop making so many trips to the library to no avail; Enjolras devours books almost as quickly as Combeferre- which is saying something, given the man’s infamous reputation for reading the entirety of War and Peace in two nights.)

Grantaire’s glad he can be of help- even if it is only in this small way. It’s easily intimate, being with Enjolras like this, and Grantaire’s beyond grateful that it’s normal for them to share moments like this together- a few years ago he wouldn’t have believed it to be possible. 

Enjolras hums as Grantaire rubs his shoulders, and then Grantaire’s hands are being gently swatted away as Enjolras moves to sit up, a contented smile sitting on his face. “Thank you.” he says, trailing light fingers down Grantaire’s jawline before moving to bring their mouths together. The kiss is slow and languid and Grantaire smiles onto Enjolras’ lips, feeling Enjolras do the same. 

“Mmmmmm,” Enjolras murmurs as they break apart, “Your turn now, c’mon, roll over.”

“Enj, you don’t have to-”

“Oh, hush you; you know I do, now roll over.”

“Bossy.” Grantaire chides, yet obliging all the same. It’s practically routine by now, anyway- no matter how much he protests, Enjolras will always insist on returning the favour, probably in the interests of equality or something similar. (It’s not like Grantaire’s complaining; Enjolras gives quite satisfactory backrubs.)

“Enj?” 

“Mhmm?”

“I love you.”

Grantaire doesn’t need to turn around to know that Enjolras is smiling when he replies, “I love you too.”


They get married on a Wednesday. Everything is hectic and everybody is stressing out and Grantaire almost works himself into a panic attack which he hasn’t done since he was eighteen, thank you very much.

Despite this, the ceremony is wonderful. There’s laughter and smiles and Grantaire feels so spectacularly happy he could shout it from the top of the Eiffel Tower and still the grin would not be swept off his face.

Now it’s late, and Enjolras stands in the doorway to their room, shirt untucked and tie hanging haphazardly around his neck. Grantaire doesn’t think he’s ever looked more beautiful.

“Come here, you.” he says, patting the side of the bed next to him. Enjolras huffs and rolls his eyes, although he’s clearly just as giddy as Grantaire.

“Yes, husband.” Enjolras replies dutifully, grinning as he walks over. Sitting down on the edge of the bed, Enjolras immediately pulls Grantaire in for a kiss. It’s soft and delicate and so, so lovely that Grantaire has to break away for smiling too much.

“Husband.” Grantaire says, fitting his mouth around the word. “I’m going to enjoy getting used to that.”

Enjolras beams at him.

The Darkest Part of the Night

AO3


It’s the first day of kindergarten and the rest of his life.

He’s wearing the new shirt his mama got him specially for this day. It’s got two dinosaurs on it, because two dinosaurs are obviously better and cooler than one. At least, that is what he tells his mama.

He finds that the same is true with friends too. He’s had Archie since day one. Their parents were ecstatic to learn they would have sons the same age, able to carry on the lifelong friendship that F.P. and Fred held. They are inseparable, and Jughead wonders why anyone would need more than one best friend, unless they were a really bad best friend.

He used to frown at the thought. Archie could never be a bad friend.

Now though, he sits in a small chair, nervously swinging his short legs back and forth. They don’t quite reach the ground, no matter how far forward he sits in his chair. He needs a distraction, so he stretches one leg out, tongue poking out of his mouth as he tries his hardest, but the ground is still too far away for him to reach.

So is Archie.

There is a messy mop of bright red hair across the room, bobbing up and down with excitement. It only makes Jughead miss his friend more. He wants to share that happiness, but instead he only feels dread.

The classroom is bigger than the trailer he lives in with his parents and baby Jellybean, but it still feels too small in comparison. There are so many kids that Jughead doesn’t know, and even though he pinky promised his mom he would try to make friends, he only wants the one he already has. He misses the day’s when he and Archie could play together for hours, and they didn’t have to follow rules or introduce themselves to all these kids.

He’s insecure, but at his age he can’t put a name to the sour taste that enters his mouth and the tears that brim his eyes as his bottom lip trembles with the urge to cry. Most of the other kids have normal names, like Reggie and Kevin, or Cheryl and Archie, and although Jughead never worried about his name before, he heard all the kids laugh at the little boy named Moose, and by now he’s smart enough to know that his own is even stranger.

His savior comes in the form of a whirlwind of blonde hair, green eyes and a high-pitched voice that brings him down from the edge of tears he is perched on.

“Hi I’m Elizabeth but all my friends call me Betty so you can too now that we’ve met!” She’s too loud and too close for his liking, but she smells like the vanilla cupcakes his mama made the night before to celebrate him going into kindergarten, and he can’t help but lean in even farther.

He blinks a few times once he realizes that she was talking to him, and carefully mumbles a reply while facing the ground. “My name is Jughead.”

When he looks up again, she looks confused and this is what he was worried about. The tears flood his eyes within seconds and he wants to curl into a ball like he does with Hot Dog at home whenever he gets sad. But Hot Dog isn’t here and neither are his mama and daddy and Archie is too far way for him to call out to. Even little Jellybean would be better than any of these people, and all she does is smell bad and cry.

“Sorry! I didn’t hear you very well, can you say your name again?” She’s in his face again, and Jughead gets a good look at her. There’s a sparkle in her eyes and he remembers his mama’s words earlier. Be kind Juggie, and other’s will be too.

She also told him he was a smart boy (and his chest had puffed up a little in pride at these words) and this girl, Betty, is being kind so he assumes she must also have a mama who said the same thing.

“It’s Jughead.” He says while sitting taller, forcing a watery smile onto his face.

“That’s such a cool name! Betty is so boring but it’s alright because that’s what my mommy named me and she knows best because she’s the smartest mommy I’ve ever had!”

He can’t believe she didn’t think his name was funny, and he sits quietly. Even Archie had laughed a little when he first started using it. Now you have a silly real name and a silly nickname! Jughead doesn’t think he was trying to be mean, but now the memory hurts a little in comparison to Betty’s reaction.

Jughead is brought back into focus when he realizes the teacher has reached his table to introduce to the rest of the class. A girl named Midge goes first, then another named Josie. The teacher barely has time to point to Betty before she takes a deep breath and a stream of words that Jughead can barely understands leaves her mouth.

“Hi I’m Elizabeth Cooper but you can call me Betty and I’m so excited to finally be in Kindergarten and this is my new friend Jughead!” She practically falls out of her seat with excitement and giggles rack her small body as she slaps a hand over her mouth and gives a muffled shriek. Her blond curls are bouncing and Jughead is mesmerized by her already. “Sorry I’m just so excited I couldn’t hold it in!”

He looks down at his shirt and sees the two dinosaurs. This is the second time she’s referred to him as her friend since they got here, and he thinks that if two dinosaurs are better than one, it only makes sense that two friends are better than one as well. And he’s a smart boy, so it must be true.

“Well, Miss Betty, your friend might have wanted to introduce himself today.”

His feels warm with affection for the bouncing blonde sitting next to him, and he thinks that the teacher is right. He does want to share his name after all.

~

Tomorrow is the first day of sixth grade, which consequently means that it is the first day of middle school as well.

Jughead doesn’t think that this means anything special, but from her place next to him at the kitchen table, Betty insists that everything changes once you start middle school. He shrugs with indifference since he gave up arguing with her years ago.

He’s found that she is usually right anyways.

“We’re going to a whole new school, and new kids from different elementary schools will be there too. We’ll have new teachers, and we have to go to six classes now instead of one. Can you believe that? Six classes!”

She is breathless from ranting, and so is Jughead, but for a different reason altogether. She’s been talking about sixth grade all break, and the excitement she feels has become too much for her to contain, and it spills out like the sticky overflowing sodas they shared with Archie all summer long. Her hands move as rapidly as her mouth does, and he can’t decide which one to focus on first. Which ones he likes better.

He’s nervous though, because if what she says is true, there is a chance Betty will make better friends than Jughead and suddenly he isn’t hungry for Alice Cooper’s famous mac and cheese anymore. He just wants Betty.

He gave up long ago on being Archie’s only friend, because the boy was too outgoing to be glued to Jughead’s side 24/7. He never worried though, because the red-head remained as loyal as ever to his best friend, and Jughead would always be his first choice. 11 years of life had taught Jughead that people come and go, but over 10 years of friendship with Archie had taught him that they were brothers, and family never leaves you behind.

(Soon he will learn that this is not necessarily true, and that as usual, Betty is right. Everything changes when you least expect it.)

Betty is different though. She listens to Jughead’s problems and gives him better advice than anyone else could. She’s held his hand through elementary school and all the insecurities it brought him growing up. He’s never had a friend as caring and warm as Betty, and doesn’t think that he ever will again if he loses her.

You get what you give Juggie. He grew up in the trailer park with this mentality, surrounded by men and women who protected his family because his father had done the same.

(His mom will tell him this again a year later when she leaves for the last time. You get what you give Juggie, but sometimes what you give isn’t good enough.)

He’s never lived the same life she does, white picket fences with enough money for food and more. His family has lived paycheck to paycheck, and his father jumps from job to job. It’s been hard on him even though he doesn’t like to show it. But it becomes inevitable once Betty has solidified her place in his life that she will learn about his fears and worries about his family’s stability, something no 11 year old should be subjected to.

And still she had stayed by his side, their friendship only growing stronger with time. Archie might be his brother, but Betty is his best friend.

(Most people would say that a brother is closer than a best friend, but brothers are obligated to stay with you by blood or law, a best friend chooses to do so.)

He’s been there for her as well, and right now he thinks that should be enough for her to stay. He protected Betty from bully’s and let her cry on his shoulder whenever she needed to. He held her hand during scary movies, in the hoped that her nails would dig into his hands instead of her own. He always told her she was beautiful whenever she asked about clothes, or when she started wearing makeup over the summer, because she asked for his honest opinion.

Jughead gives the type of love he is desperate to get.

So, when the first day of school comes, he is more nervous than he’s ever been on first days, even though he enters with his two friends at his sides like every year before. He sits with Archie at lunch, since Betty has a different lunch period. His friend spends the entire time dreaming out loud about the new girl, Veronica, and how gorgeous and confident she is. Jughead spends the entire lunch mourning the absence of green eyes and sunshine yellow hair.

The rest of the day flies by, and before he knows it, he is walking towards his last class of the day, the one he has with Betty. His stomach feels weird and a sour taste enters his mouth, but this time he can name it easily. He’s nervous to see her, although he still isn’t quite sure why.

He spots the new girl right away, dark hair, a wide smile, pearl necklace and navy blue dress. He thinks she’s over dressed for sixth grade, but bites his tongue to keep that thought in.

Jughead doesn’t have time to even consider that Betty might want to sit with her new friends instead of him before she comes flying through the door and straight to the table he is sitting at. He is lost in the scent of vanilla and the flowery perfume she made him go shopping with her for, and he finds himself in the waves of her hair and the feel of his arms around her small waist.

Betty has stuck around for the past six years, and in this moment Jughead knows she’ll be around for the next six, if not more. He has time to figure out what this feeling is. For now, though, he’s content that he feels it for Betty and no one else.

~

It’s the first day of their last year together in high school.

Jughead feels his chest tighten uncomfortable at the thought. He’s made it this far and four years ago he never would have guessed it was possible. He was swept up in the tornado of his family that was years of built up pressure and stress and managed to come out alive and fighting. He doesn’t want to leave the little bubble he’s blown around himself for protection, but bubbles are weak and the end of this year will be the needle that pops it.

For the meantime, he has so many things to be thankful for. A father figure in his life, a brother returned to his side, and a light to guide him through the darkness of his own mind.

They are simple things that most people are born with, but these were made for him. Forged by the challenges he’s faced and the same pressure that broke him and then turned him into a diamond.

Fred took him in like his own son after his father went to jail. Even though Jughead will always love and rely on his real father, there are some things you can’t provide from the cold hard floor of a prison cell. He has a home with the Andrews, and he works for Fred to repay him, because you can’t pay for food and shelter with kindness.

After a rift in their friendship, he and Archie only came out stronger. They both needed to work on things, and now they know each other better for it. It takes time, but Jughead forgives him, because he has learned that sometimes you give without expecting anything in return.

But he would not be where he is today without Betty Cooper by his side. She hopped on for the wildest ride of her life and held on like he was the only thing keeping her alive, when in reality it was the other way around. She fought for him, for his family, and for things he didn’t know he was even allowed to want. His heart wanted to burst whenever he thought about her, and how she led him through the darkest part of the night until he could see the sunlight.

He doesn’t think he’s ever loved a person so fiercely, didn’t think it was possible growing up. He never believed he deserved to love and be loved the way he is by Betty.

But she proved him wrong again, like she always does whenever he’s in a bad place. She tells him that there are things worth waiting for, and even though she isn’t perfect herself, he’s never met someone so genuine and rich with love to give. Betty Cooper might not be perfect, but his eyes, perfection was Betty Cooper.

She shares the darkness with him, has taken a weight off his shoulders and consequently put it on her own, but they carry it together now.

Jughead thinks back to the year before this, where he once stood in the same exact spot. He walked the streets of The Southside alone while Betty left the city for the summer and while Archie had left him. He went to Southside High that year, neither of his friends by his side, and pleaded with time to speed up. It didn’t, but eventually those puzzle pieces fell into place and he was thankful for the time he had.

Now, he is here again, staring up at Riverdale High desperately hoping that time will slow down so he can enjoy this life he lives in the moment. It won’t, and soon the first bell will ring. Before he knows it the first week, then month, then semester will be over, and the rest will follow in the blink of an eye.

He tends to live life like this, anticipating the future instead of appreciating the present, but with Betty he wants to focus on the past as well.

It’s not the bell that shakes him out of his reverie, but a soft tug by a small hand on his jacket sleeve. “You ready to do this today?”

He looks down at her and his fingers itch with the need to touch. To cup her jaw and run a finger over the soft lips that sing music in his ears. To run his fingers through her hair and keep his overworked and over worried hands busy.

He settles for dropping his arm and slipping his calloused fingers through her soft ones. He runs a finger over her nails and is glad to find they are long, but the scars on her palms are older as this budding relationship.

“I think I am, are you?”

“Of course Juggie, we’ve made it this far and I’m not going to stop here for anyone but you.”

“I’ve waited a long time for this moment Betts, I wouldn’t want to do it without you.” God, he loves her so much.

They walk through the halls before she speaks again, and they stand outside her homeroom. Jughead will be late to his own, but one more minute with Betty is worth more than thousands of detentions.

“I’ll meet you outside by the truck after school, okay?” Her earnest eyes are aimed up at him through thick lashes, and he thinks they too are worth more than the emeralds they mimic.

“I’ll be waiting for you there.” He’d been waiting for her his whole life, and when she was ready, she gave him more than a lifetime of happiness just by being there for him, with him.

Her gaze is intense in a dizzying way, just like she is. His eyes drop from hers to the plush lips that helped heal his wounds, and he leans forward a fraction of an inch. The scent of vanilla lingers, but he recognizes it as the scent of home.

When their lips meet, it’s gentle, like she had been with him at his most fragile. After a moment, she signs, and melts into his grip on her waist. Their lips move against each other and Jughead feels warm and fuzzy. He’ll never get used to the feeling of having this part of her, but for them, each kiss is like the first. It feels exciting and new.

After school, she beats him to FP’s beat up old truck. He spots her immediately when he steps out of the building, and watches for a moment in awe. The sun shines one her golden skin and she has never looked more like the angel that she is.

It’s been a long day, and he craves the feeling of being wrapped up in her arms. She looks up as he strides over to her and immediately understands, setting her things in the bed of the truck and opening her arms.

He just hugs her for a moment, breathing in her comfort and loving the feeling of how she fits like a puzzle piece against his body.

“You ready to go home Jug?”

He takes another deep breath and mumbles against her ear, “I’m already there.”

Reignite The Flame

Request based off of the song Scared to Be Lonely by Martin Garrix.



His hands were always on you then. They’d caress you in heavenly ways, drawing circles on your back and feeling every inch of you with restrained passion at first. With time his hands grew firmer, they’d desperately grab at your thighs, they’d lock into the locks of your hair but his pull was never harsh.

Being apart was painful. His thoughts always found themselves back on you when he was away, and your mind always conjured daydreams of the two of you together. It was how you kept your sanity, how you kept that overwhelming feeling of longing at bay. Your greetings upon his homecomings were always passionate, always full of adoration as the two of you tangled in each other the second he stepped foot through the door.

“Spencer!” you shouted as he stormed away, his face furious.

“No! I’m not listening to this!” he yelled, his body shaking at your words. His body was rigid and his eyes dark, as if the happiness had been stripped away from him.

“Why won’t you ever listen?” you exclaimed, your voice breaking as you repressed tears. Your own body felt weak with exhaustion, your eyes that had once been filled with sparks now dull.“You know how I’ve felt about this. You know that I can’t keep waiting for you. All I do is wait for you!”

“You knew this going in!” he retorted, his frustrations showing on his face. His hands clenched into fists at his side as an unrecognizable feeling rushed through him. “This is my job!”

“So I’m never going to come first to you? God, Spencer. Do you even want to be with me?”

“I’m not doing this,” Spencer said in exasperation as your last question stung. “I’m not.”

You felt the tears in your eyes fight their way onto your cheeks as he walked away, slamming the door on his way out.

Your hands found their way to his shoulders, softly massaging into the tender skin. You hands moved expertly, working to undo the knots that had formed from the time he spent hunched over his case files. He grinned at your touch, his shoulders relaxing instantly. His own hand reached up to hold yours.

“You’ve been working for hours,” you murmured against the nape of his neck. The soft tickle of your lips against his skin was enough to send a pleasant shiver down his spine.

“I know,” he sighed as he placed his pen down. “I could use a break.”

“Well come on then,” you smiled as you pulled away, your face bright at the idea of getting some quality time with him. He took the hand you offered knowing he wouldn’t return to his work that night. Not when he had you in his arms.

“Tough night?” Morgan asked as he met Spencer at the bar. The text he had received from Spencer had been alarming, and his choice of meeting place indicated something was surely wrong. The two empty shot glasses that sat in front of him worried him even more.

“How do you do it? You and Savannah?” he asked, not bothering to meet his eye.

“It was difficult. I thought I could handle it, and for a while I did,” Morgan replied, suddenly understanding what was going on. “It was a lot of fights.”

“I feel like I’m losing my mind,” Spencer muttered as he held his head in his hands. He had tried to make things work, but how could he when he loved you and his job?

“I felt the same way,” Morgan agreed as he ordered his own drink. “But when Savannah was targeted, I had to make a choice. It was either her or the BAU.”

“You chose her,” Spencer stated. There was no resentment, no ill will in his voice. Just the fact that Morgan had chosen his family over his career, something that many others would have done as well.

“Yeah, I did. As much as I hate it, sometimes we have to make a choice, kid.”

Spencer nodded silently as Morgan took a drink, his mind offering him snippets of his life with you. It gave him the good times, and the bad. It gave him the arguments, the frustrations, the times he felt he wanted to rip his hair out, but it also gave him the image of you in the morning, the way you’d smile whenever he came home, the way you’d listen to him at ungodly times of the morning when he found himself in tears over reasons that were much too personal for anyone else to know.

“You have to think about it. Sometimes you just have to find the right person. I did, so did JJ, and she’s still part of the team. So you have to think long and hard. Are you going home to her because it’s what makes you happy, or are you just scared of coming home to an empty apartment?”

Spencer stared at Morgan, his lips pursed together at the question that held more weight than he ever expected it to.

Spencer walked into the apartment later than usual that night. He had gotten hung up at work and despite wanting to rush home to you, he just couldn’t find the time to get away. His feet ached and his stomach growled, but all he could think about was giving you a warm hug hello.

He smiled softly as he caught sight of you fast asleep on the small couch. You were still fully dressed, a blanket thrown over your shoulders as your soft snores filled the apartment. It was a sweet sight he had seen before whenever you’d stayed up in hopes of catching him when he arrived home. Most of the time your tiredness would win and he would come home to find you dead asleep, just like tonight.

He took one look in the kitchen immediately felt guilty. There on the counter was an extravagant dish, one that he knew you only prepared for special occasions. He sighed deeply as he picked up the small card you had left next to it.

Microwave for 1 minute. Happy Anniversary. Love, Y/N.

With work being as hectic as it had been with the latest case, the date had simply slipped his mind. He heated up the meal you had made, his heart aching as he realized he had made you eat alone that night.

You looked up as you heard the door open. Spencer walked in, a determined look on his face as he walked over to you and stopped a few feet away. You stood awkwardly against the wall. You had been about to head to bed, having given up on Spencer coming home anytime soon.

“Spence?”

“I want to be with you,” he said firmly.

“Wha-”

“I want to be with you, Y/N. I know that we don’t always work, and I know we probably both have better matches for us out there, but I don’t care. I don’t care about that because I want you.”

You looked at him, your expression contemplative as you processed his words. You had made a scene earlier about his constant working, about how he never made the effort to keep in contact when his head got so wrapped up in his work. If you were being honest to yourself, you just needed reassurance that there was still something to fight for in your relationship. Those words were all you needed to hear.

“I want you too.”

Spencer smiled, the joy that drained from your earlier argument finally returning to his heart. He closed the gap between you, his lips moving furiously against yours as his hands roamed like they did before. Your bodies pressed together in a fierce desperation, the passion between you reigniting again.

Day6 / Giving them a lap dance

Requested: Yes. @doyoung-gurl I’m sorry it’s not up to par with my other reactions ;( I hope you like it anyway!! 

There isn’t a back story, but giving them a lap dance after a stressful day and I’m not that good at creating multiple back stories lol so I left it at that!

I should be doing homework, but :) I’m a terrible student and I’m going to fail in a large pit of fire anyway. Fuck it.

Originally posted by kpopdaily

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I need to stop being selfish. I need to understand that there are other people affected by my actions. I had just started dating S when I first met V and as soon as I saw him I had made my decision. I decided he was who I wanted next. The next few days I confirmed it and then the Friday I broke up with S. It was hard, it was painful but I got over it. It caused a lot of drama. Hell I even liked someone else in the meantime but all along, it was V. He was different. He was mysterious. But he didn’t want me. He lead me on and I will never forgive him for that. I worked so hard to have him but the signs started to show that he wasn’t actually interested. So I asked. “Do you actually like me? Cause I like you and I don’t want to put anymore time or effort into something that will go nowhere” and he said no. That was that. I shed my tears I straightened myself and I was good to go. I found someone else to tide me over. I thought I had gotten over V. Apparently not. New Year’s Eve 2016 right as the clock strikes 12 and all my friends are cheering and my best friend kisses V. I knew since the moment he said no that he liked her and visa versa. They both told me. I thought I didn’t care. But in that moment, that drunken, saddened moment when my life flashed before me as the new year started, I cried. I lay in the snow in my yard with all my friends cheering around me as I cried staring at the stars above me. I never did get over him. He hurt me and all I did was put a round bandage over a square wound. It was V that noticed I was crying. How ironic. As everyone cleared out so my best friend could talk to me I couldn’t tell her. I sat in her arms crying because I couldn’t bare to tell her I still had feelings for V. That’s not something you want to hear from a girl that “used” to like the guy you just shared your New Years kiss with. I then ran off because I couldn’t sit there and cry any longer. V found me and we sat in the snow. Neither of us said anything until I told him to say something. He didn’t know what to say, nor did I. He hugged me. I was okay with it at first but for the wrong reason. All it did was make me cry more. Made me hate him more. It wasn’t helping. I tried to pull away but he hugged tighter. I begged him to let go. I cried more. He made me talk, made me tell him what was wrong even though he had already guessed it. We sat there hugging for over an hour. Before we went inside he hugged me once more and kissed my forehead. I broke down. My knees hit the cold snow covered ground as I sobbed. He wasn’t helping. I said this over and over and he didn’t listen. The next day everything was normal or so I thought. It wasn’t until a week after when I found out that my best friends were dating. V had asked her out that night. Exactly 10 minutes before my breakdown. No one told me. I had all of my closest friends there that night and not a single one told me that the guy I had feelings for and my best friend had started dating. They all saw me as fragile. “Oh you can’t tell her” “she’ll be so upset” “she still loves him”. I never loved him. It is possible to feel heartache for someone you never loved. I am not fragile. I can handle the truth. If you hide it from me it only makes it worse. My best friend drifted farther than I thought a person could in just a week and V came closer than a boy in a relationship should. I was torn. Between my two best friends. If I pick him I will lose her. If I pick her I can’t be close to him. But I need them both. People always tell you to never leave your friends behind for a guy. But no one ever tells you what to do when your friends are the guy and the problem…
—  Written by @allgrungedup

i’ve been thinking about this for two weeks now and i know i will never have the time to actually get this au done unless i wait like… after i do two other multi-chapters (so like a year or two basically) but JUST HEAR ME OUT. long post. because do you really expect anything different from me at this point??? i’ve thought the whole thing out. this is basically a story outline rather than a prompt. lakjfhlkhj. guys.

OUAT CS JUMANJI AU.

(Do I have your attention?)

Emma and Henry move into this old house on the outskirts of this sleepy little town, Storybrooke, so that they can be closer to the woman who helped Emma get back on her feet a decade prior, Mary Margaret, Henry’s honorary aunt. The house is massive and could use some serious work but they got it dirt cheap because of some town myth that something terrible happened there to the original owners who lived there 200 years ago. Legend has it that there were strange, terrifying goings-on in the town for weeks, nothing anyone can prove though aside from some hokey old newspaper clippings hanging up in Granny’s Diner. Emma takes it all with a grain of salt. Henry thinks it’s awesome.

They slowly settle in, unpacking very gradually. Emma and Mary Margaret spend a lot of time trying to clean up the dusty, cobwebbed mess of the long-closed house while Henry escapes to explore. He startles when he hears something odd. The sound leads him to the attic, which is still stocked with countless items from those who lived there prior, stuff he can’t wait to dig into. But first he has to figure out what that noise is, and he’s excited when he comes across a fancy, but worn, leather box that has “Once Upon A Time” scrawled across the top. The noises stop. It’s a board game. Definitely something he can get behind after all the work they’ve been doing to the house.

He takes the game downstairs to his mom and MM and begs them to take a break and play a little, and they relent. The game comes with vague sort of instructions, that whichever player reaches the end first wins, yada yada, maybe a reference to happily ever afters being harder to seize than one would think. So they start.

And things get. Crazy.

I’m talking… beanstalks curling around the house and an ogre trying to break through and flying monkeys invading the town and fairies casting spells and magic beans opening portals and the Dark One coming after them.

And, of course, towards the beginning one of Emma’s rolls conjures a man from within the game. It’s Captain fucking Hook, or, as he explains to her, Killian Jones – the original owner of Emma’s home. The only reason Emma, Mary Margaret, and Henry survive as they do is because they have Killian to guide them through the chaos. He’s closed off, but opens up slowly as they go on, particularly to Emma.

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Bare With Me

Also on AO3
Chp 2   Chp 3   Chp 4

This is at least 50% @seasonofthegeek‘s fault, since she’s the one who made me recognize the absolute dearth of Nakedrien.


Adrien yanked off his clothes and staggered into the shower.   Summer break was a huge misnomer, at least for the seventeen-year-old son of fashion mogul Gabriel Agreste.  Sure he was out of school, but he still had fencing, Chinese, and piano lessons.  He’d had back-to-back photoshoots, and the second one was for fall designs.  It ran two hours over on a record-breaking hot day.  So of course it was outside.  His makeup had felt like gritty slime, melting under the lights, and he was relatively certain the whole shoot would have to be redone.  He never wanted to see that itchy soggy suit coat again.

It took a few minutes before the cool water sluicing over him even registered.  He was just starting to feel human again when his bathroom door opened with a bang.

“Adrien?” a familiar ladies voice called, but it felt weirdly out of context, and he couldn’t identify it.  "Adrien Agreste, are you in here?“  She sounded concerned.

"Uuh, yeah,” he called back.  "If you want to take a seat in my living room I’ll be out in a minute.“

"I’m sorry, but there’s no time for that.”  He heard a cupboard open, followed by some rummaging.

He finished rinsing the shampoo out of his hair and struggled to see through his shower door.  She was wearing red and black, a combination his Lady had made hugely fashionable in Paris these days.  He was not at all expecting the door to be yanked open, and he stared, frozen as he met Ladybug’s beautiful blue eyes.

“Uuuh…”  His brain had flown completely off the rails to sink in a nearby swamp.  In all the circumstances he ever imagined being naked with Ladybug, this one had never, ever occurred to him.

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White Piano

Pairing: Dan x reader

Genre: romance, fluff

TW: none

Word count: 637

So I was bored, and I wanted to write something, even just a drabble. This is one of two entries I’m doing for @phanny-fics writing competition (this is such a great idea and I miss reading imagine fics). This is my pure Dan imagine fluff piece. The other one will be a smut one idk will be about yet. I haven’t written anything in a couple of months, so I might be a bit rusty in my writing.

I blame Dan and that new white piano of his lol.

Music lilts throughout the spacious room, causing my eyelids to open in curiosity. It’s still dark, and I blink a few times in an attempt to clear the sleepiness in my head. Several feet away, I can make out a tall, dark silhouette sitting on a wooden bench where a new piano is occupying a chunk of space on the floor.

I don’t speak, content to continue listening to the piano player. Dan hasn’t been able to tear himself away from the piano since he and Phil moved into their new place. It’s an improvement from the piano at their former London flat, and Dan has an odd fondness for the instrument. Maybe it’s the different color, but whatever effect the piano is giving to Dan, I quite like it.

I get up from the bed and make my way over to where Dan is sitting. I drape my arms across his shoulders and press my face to the side of his neck. His playing falters slightly, though my presence doesn’t make him stop. About a minute passes before his fingers cease its movement.

“Did I bother you, love?”

I shake my head. “I liked it. How long have you been up?”

“An hour, I think.” He tilts his head so his cheek presses on my right left arm. “I’m still trying to get used to this.”

“I can tell.” Since we started dating, it’s once in a blue moon whenever I see Dan’s fingers within inches of piano keys. I can tell a small part of him is still affected by his childhood piano teacher. Who wouldn’t? Even some of my stricter teachers are nothing compared to that witch of a music tutor.

“Maybe she’s the reason you have pianophobia,” I’d lamely joke.

But his love for music is undeniable. Arthur the aardvark sparked an interest that never faded. Which is why I try to ease him into doing self-taught lessons (with the help of YouTube of course) so he could play piano equivalent to popular YouTube musicians. It worked for the most part. My encouragement and positive feedback hasn’t strayed him from his newfound motivation for the last few weeks.

“You can do it, you know. I’m no Beethoven, but you’re more competent at this than me.”

“Compared to Gerard Way? I suck.”

“Well, Gerard is a god, but so are you. Just believe in yourself and keep practicing. Before you know it, you’ll be in a packed stadium with fans chanting ‘Daniel, Daniel , Daniel.’”

“Whoa, let’s keep that dream for someone who isn’t doing YouTube for a living.”

“Right, because if you don’t, you’ll be living on the streets.”

He nods. “I’ll do it live on YouNow, maybe do some covers when I have time-”

“When you’re not procrastinating,” I add.

“When I’m not lazy,” he says with a snicker, “and just really do what I love.”

“That’s all your fans want.” I touch my lips to the side of his lips. “That’s all I could ever ask for.”

“That, and for me to wear my Wildcats jersey. I’m still saying no to that.”

“Oh come on! I love a good Troy Bolton.”

“(Y/N), that’s exactly why I won’t wear it again. If he was a real character, I’d be mocked for being a wannabe Troy.”

I pout. “I thought we were talking about your piano-playing. Why’d you have to bring that up?”

“The discussion was leading in that direction anyway.”

“We can have a full HSM rant later. I’m sleepy.”

“I’ll come with you to bed.”

We leave the piano and settle underneath his duvet. I rest my head on his chest, and he strokes my (H/C) strands.

“I love you,” he murmurs.

“I love you too, Beethoven.”

And to think, all it took was a white piano for this to happen.

For you will still be here tomorrow

Here, have some completely gratuitous father&son angst. You can blame @camsthisky​ and her #batfamcontentwar for it. Also if you thought that I was listening to Cat Stevens Father&Son while writing this you’d be 200% correct. That song, oh god.

Read on AO3


He once told Damian that over the years he had become more similar to Dick than he ever was to Talia, or even Bruce himself. He remembers the stunned look he got back, and the twitch of Damian’s mouth when he failed to produce an answer to something he didn’t know how to take, if as a compliment or an accusation. In the end Damian had just clicked his tongue at him, but there had been surprise in his son’s eyes, Bruce remembers. And pride. So much pride.

Bruce had meant it in a good way then. But he knew, like Damian knew, like Dick knew, that there was also a bad side to it. The temper. The anger. The inevitability of the fights that they’ll have to face only because they were who they were, and too stubborn to ever back down. It was never that complicated with Tim or Jason.

He’s reminded of it now, with Damian standing a few feet from him, red faced and body as tight as a violin string, the echo of their raised voice still rumbling through the cave, disturbing the bats colony over their heads. At seventeen, Damian’s resemblance to Bruce is stronger than ever, and yet all Bruce sees right now, in front of him, is Dick. Dick, a long, long time ago. Dick, angry at nothing and everything at the same time. Dick, getting more and more frustrated with the role of Batman’s son. Dick, suddenly so ready to walk out on him.

Bruce doesn’t remember the exact moment he realized that the same thing was going to happen with Damian too, but he knows he’s been waiting for a while now. Resigned himself to the idea of it happening. But, by god, it’s not going to be tonight. It’s not going to be because of this.

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GUYS LISTEN TO THIS...

Cow Chop Baseball AU:

Aleks: First Base- He was picked up straight out high school is known around the league as ‘the guy with the tattoos’. His batting average isn’t great, but he can make plays others would see as impossible.

James: Right Outfield- A college draftee, him and Aleks have a rivalry that carries over into social media sometimes. His batting average is one of the best in the league and he’s known for making the plays that have him jumping into the stands.

Joe: Shortstop- He got called up from the minor leagues and he always has a smile on his face. His positive attitude always keeps the team going even when they’re losing. His attitude also gets on the opposing team’s nerves and always sparks a confrontation.

Brett: Pitcher- As a veteran player, he does his best to run the team and he isn’t afraid of some confrontation. He’s best known for being a ‘reverse’ pitcher. His best pitch is a knuckle-ball and he rarely pulls out a 4-seam fastball. Opposite of the rest of the league.

Trevor: Catcher- As the rookie of the team, he feels like he has a lot to prove. He does this by having a terrific batting average, very rare with catchers, and by making outrageous plays that always seem to work out in his favor.

Asher: Second Base- He’s best known for being a thief. So far he has a record 40 bases stolen and their at even halfway through the season. He keeps quiet and is rarely on camera in an interview, but when he’s on the field he’s silently cursing the other team and making snide comments underneath his breath.

Jakob: Center Outfield- As a prodigy in the high school baseball scene, it wasn’t surprising to see him out in the big leagues. So far he’s stolen 17 home runs from opposing teams. 4 of which were grand slams. He’s slightly above average when it comes to batting, but his field skills definitely make up for it.

Anna: Third Base- As the fastest player to ever see the major leagues, she’s a force to be reckoned with. She can turn a single base bunt into a double and has scrapped out more close-call runs than ever thought possible. At third base, she’s Brett’s eyes and with one whistle he’s sending a ball over to the bastard that’s trying to steal a base.

Lindsey: Left Outfield- She’s the baseball queen. With a grand total of 34 home runs so far this season, she’s on track to being MVP. As the golden child, she’s the one that has all the merchandise and all the interviews. She doesn’t let that get to her head though and is always proving her haters wrong by being spectacular on and off the field.

Other random things:

Aleks is always the one to start something on the field. He claims its never his fault but everyone knows the truth.

Brett had only been up to bat twice in his entire career as a major league pitcher. And although he’s scored home runs both times, earning a total of 7 points, the Manger insists on giving him a designated hitter.

When James isn’t playing, he’s out in the community volunteering and helping out anyway he can. This has given the community a positive view of Cow Chop making them more popular.

Anna has gotten into one fight on the field and everyone still talks about it to this day. A guy twice her size got all up in her face and I’m one punch she had him on the ground. Unfortunately, she was ejected from the game, but later in an interview she said it was worth it.

At first, Brett was nervous about being put on a brand new team. As a Vet he would be expected to lead the team and he didn’t know if he was ready to deal with a bunch of children. But, as time went on, he warmed up to everyone, even though the ARE children.

Asher was nearly kicked off the team when it was discovered he had a sealed criminal record. After months of demands from fans, Asher’s record was opened and it was found he was once arrested for breaking and entering when he was 18. The fans were furious and it nearly destroyed his career, but he was able to save it by making key plays in games, eventually winning the fans back over.

Lindsey secretly hates being the poster child for baseball because she can’t do anything. After a devastating loss, she’s the one the media tracks down to interrogate. This has led to her nearly snapping it a couple times, but always keeps it together.

Because of his desire to prove himself, Trevor nearly ended his career prematurely. During a game, a runner slid into home, knocking Trevor’s legs out from under him. At first, he thought nothing of it, brushing off everyone’s concerned questions, and continued to play until the next days practice came. During a set of sprints he took a bad step and immediately crumpled to the ground. The doctors declared he had a slight tear in his ACL that would heal on his own. That night he received some strong words from Brett on why he shouldn’t try to hide his injuries.

Anna is known as the partier and there are plenty of pictures of her in local bars having a good time. Whether it’s alone or with other people, she can almost always be found in a club in her days off.

Jakob hates that he had to constantly live up to name. If being a high school prodigy want enough, his older brother is also on a major league team. The two are constantly being compared and it Jakob hates it. But, as he plays more games, the media has stopped with the comparisons and is starting to see him as an individual player.

Joe is the has the biggest social media presence possible. He’s always posting pictures of his dogs, of his girlfriend, and of the rest of the team. It gives the public an inside look at their everyday lives and makes the team appear more human.
~~~~~~~~

Let me know what oh guys think!

screamingwind281  asked:

Can you do a headcannon of the daily struggles BH would have if he were suddenly turned human?

So this accidentally turned into a somewhat fic. I don’t know what to call this haha. Some pieces of dialogue came to me so I wrote them. I hope that’s okay!  I’m so sorry if you’re on the app this is going to be a long scroll.

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Ed Sheeran sentence starters
  • "I saw a shooting star and thought of you."
  • "You were lying next to me, I looked across and fell in love."
  • "If you wanna put this on me, that’s fine, I never blamed you for anything at all."
  • "The world looks better through your eyes."
  • "It's only been one night of love and maybe that is not enough."
  • "If I fall for you, would you fall too?"
  • "It's not a homeless life for me, it's just I'm home less than I'd like to be."
  • "I haven't slept for the past week, two hours ain't enough for me."
  • "I'm drunk off last nights whisky and coke."
  • "You can stay with me forever or you could stay with me for now."
  • "Outside the day is up and calling, but I don't have to be so, please go back to sleep."
  • "Never been better since all the therapy."
  • "And you know, if I let you go, I'll still keep you safe."
  • "You are the one I fall asleep with but never wake up to."
  • "The worst things in life come free to us."
  • "I wanna be drunk when I wake up on the right side of the wrong bed."
  • "What didn't kill me, it never made me stronger at all."
  • "I know I'll never hold you like I used to."
  • "I'll be drunk again to feel a little love."
  • "I know you'll never love me like you used to."
  • "I found your hair band on my bedroom floor, the only evidence that you've been here before."
  • "I don't drink like everybody else, I do it to forget things about myself."
  • "There's no chance that we'll work it out."
  • "I said that's fine, but you're the only one that knows I lied."
  • "Everybody said we'd be together forever."
  • "Everything's great and everything's sure, but you live in your halls and I live in a tour bus."
  • "Pain is only relevant if it still hurts."
  • "If I was gonna go somewhere, I'd be there by now."
  • "I should ink my skin with your name."
  • "I should run you a hot bath and fill it up with bubbles."
  • "You should never cut your hair 'cause I love the way you flick it off your shoulder."
  • "You will never know just how beautiful you are to me."
  • "Maybe you're hoping for a fairy tale, too."
  • "This is the start of something beautiful."
  • "And it's dark in a cold December, but I've got you to keep me warm."
  • "I'm out of touch, I'm out of love."
  • "I think I love you better now."
  • "Playing a different show every night in front of a new crowd."
  • "Let me sing and do my thing and move to greener pastures."
  • "You need me, man, I don’t need you."
  • "Never be anything but a singer-songwriter, yeah."
  • "People think that I’m bound to blow up."
  • "I haven’t got a house, plus I live on a couch."
  • "They say I’m up and coming like I'm fucking in an elevator."
  • "Settle down with me, and I'll be your safety, you'll be my lady."
  • "I'm falling for your eyes, but they don't know me yet."
  • "Give me love like her, 'cause lately I've been waking up alone."
  • "All I want is the taste that your lips allow."
  • "Give me love like never before, 'cause lately I've been craving more."
  • "It's been a while but I still feel the same... maybe I should let you go."
  • "Another love that's gone to waste."
  • "If I kissed you, will your mouth read this truth?"
  • "Darling, how I miss you."
  • "You made me scream, but then I made you cry."
  • "Maybe you should learn to love her like the way you wanna be loved."
  • "I never told her that I liked the way she dances slightly out of time and pretends she knows the words to a song she's never heard."
  • "You’re not her, though I try to see you differently."
  • "I will try to find another one who suited me as well as her."
  • "We never even tried, we never even talked, we never even thought in the long run."
  • "Whenever it was painful, whenever I was away, I’d miss you."
  • "I didn't mean to break your heart."
  • "Everybody falls apart sometimes."
  • "I know you've found another one, but won't you just hold me tonight."
  • "They don't know we don't speak anymore."
  • "I will stop trying to fall in love again... it never works out anyway."
  • "But I am not anything like I was."
  • "I don't wanna lose a lover and friend in one night if that's alright."
  • "I shouldn't have fucked with your mind and your life too many times."
  • "I never meant to sleep around, I was just lonely."
  • "When I see my future, it is with you."
  • "We're not friends, nor have we ever been."
  • "If they find out, will it all go wrong?"
  • "We're not friends, we could be anything."
  • "Friends don't treat me like you do."
  • "Tell me that you turned down the man who asked for your hand 'cause you're waiting for me."
  • "I know, you're gonna be away a while, but I've got no plans at all to leave."
  • "Just promise me, you'll never leave again."
  • "Just promise me, you'll always be a friend."
  • "Everything changes, but we'll be strangers if we see this through."
  • "I've been sat with you for most of the night, ignoring everybody here."
  • "Don't you worry if I disappear."
  • "I'm not really looking for another mistake."
  • "I was never looking for a friend."
  • "Maybe you could swing by my room around ten, baby, bring a lemon and a bottle of gin."
  • "Baby, if you wanted me then you should've just said."
  • "Maybe we'll go together and just figure it out."
  • "Trust and respect is what we do this for."
  • "You didn't need to take him to bed that's all."
  • "I never saw him as a threat until you disappeared with him to have sex of course."
  • "It's not like we were both on tour, we were staying on the same fucking hotel floor."
  • "I wasn't looking for a promise or commitment, but it was never just fun and I thought you were different."
  • "This is not the way you realize what you wanted."
  • "It's a bit too much, too late if I'm honest."
  • "Getting high as two kites when we needed to breathe."
  • "I'd disappear, you'd call me selfish, I understand but I can't help it."
  • "So we can either deal with the pain and wait to get on a plane."
  • "You should go, 'cause I ain't ever coming home."
  • "I've been livin' on the road, but then again you should know."
  • "You won't ever be alone... wait for me to come home."
  • "Loving can heal, loving can mend your soul."
  • "When I'm away, I will remember how you kissed me."
  • "How'd I get so faded?"
  • "I feel the chemicals burn in my bloodstream."
  • "I've been looking for a lover, thought I'd find her in a bottle."
  • "I'll be feeling this tomorrow."
  • "You look so wonderful in your dress, I love your hair like that."
  • "We are surrounded by all of these lies and people who talk too much."
  • "You got the kind of look in your eyes as if no one knows anything but us."
  • "All that you are is all that I'll ever need."
  • "Just don’t expect me back this evening."
  • "I love him from my skin to my bones but I don’t wanna live in his home."
  • "I was raised to keep quiet."
  • "I don't wanna hate you."
  • "I kind of knew you liked the dude from private school."
  • "I knew he had his eyes on you."
  • "He's not the right guy for you."
  • "Don't hate me 'cause I write the truth."
  • "I would never lie to you but it was never fine to lose you."
  • "I'm just disgusted with the skeletons you sleep with in your closet."
  • "Fact is you're mad at me because I backtrack so casually."
  • "You're practically my family, if we married then I'll guess you'd have to be."
  • "Tragically our love just lost the will to live, but would I kill to give it one more shot? I think not."
  • "I don't love you, baby, I don't need you... I don't want you anymore."
  • "I'm not cut out for life on the road 'cause I didn't know I'd miss you this much."
  • "I guess I'm not the man that you need."
  • "Ever since you went to uni, I've been sofa surfing with a rucksack full of less cash and I guess that could get bad."
  • "When I broke the industry, that's when I broke your heart."
  • "I was supposed to chart and celebrate, but good things are over fast."
  • "I tend to turn you off and switch on my professional features, then I turn the music off and all I'm left with is to pick up my personal pieces."
  • "Success is nothing if you have no one left to share it with."
  • "I know you have a day job, but mine is 24/7."
  • "I still love you and I need you by my side if I could."
  • "The irony is if my career and music didn't exist, in 6 years, you'd probably be my wife with a kid."
  • "I'll die from a thrill, go down in history as just a wasted talent."
  • "Eventually I'll be fine, I know that it was never meant to be."
  • "These things happen for a reason and you can't change shit."
  • "Take my apology, I'm sorry for the honesty, but I had to get this off my chest."
  • "I will be loving you 'til we're 70."
  • "People fall in love in mysterious ways."
  • "I fall in love with you every single day."
  • "For four years I never had a place to stay."
  • "At 16 years old, I moved out of my home."
  • "I tattooed the lyrics onto my arm."
  • "I'll hold ya and you'll think of him."
  • "I'll never trust you again, you can just be a friend."
  • "If we should die tonight, then we should all die together."