ignoring since it began

Bree’s Faith: Part One.

Anonymous said to imagineclaireandjamie: So I’ve had this idea running in my head. You know in the trailer when Frank tells Brianna to make a wish? What if she wishes to meet her real father, because she instinctively knows Frank isn’t her biological dad? What if the reason why she wants to meet Jamie is because she wants a father/daughter relationship she never got? Perhaps she knows Frank doesn’t love her and she just wants to be loved and wanted.

She’d always known she was different, even from an early age and her peers hadn’t had any issues holding back their ideas on the subject. As soon as they’d learnt to tease, her classmates had pointed out the differences between her and her parents.

She had fiery red hair, her parents did not. She had fierce blue eyes, like a sea before storm. They did not.

She’d asked her teachers, all of whom had made vague comments about ‘skipping generations’ and ‘recessive genes’. At first it had placated her, but as she’d grown it had just grated more and more. She knew it wasn’t a just matter of science, it was something more.

She hadn’t dared to ask her parents, something told her it wasn’t something her mama wanted to discuss. But, nevertheless, she still felt this shift in her bones.

She felt…different.

The question had arisen in class; ‘who do you think you are?’ it read. It was meant as an innocuous statement to get the children thinking about who they were, who they wanted to be and where they came from but to Brianna it was simply more of an indicator that she didn’t fit.

She mulled it over, on and off, for weeks. Sitting in her favourite branch, outside in their garden where she could think straight, she spent hours considering it. If she closed her eyes and reached out she could almost imagine the place to which she belonged. It was strange, there were no cars, no massive buildings, no traffic or rush. The air was clean and the trees were dense and populous, rising above all else.

She ached for it.

The song the group had sung for them in their whole-school assembly sat at the front of her mind, rolling around over and over. The lyrics haunted her. The woman had told her, with great confidence; 'you always have faith’ after she’d approached them afterwards.


At first she’d quirked her head to the side, confused. The tall lady with long black hair had winked and walked away, muttering 'soon you will understand’, and as she’d slept she had.

The clear water in the bath used to mock her, her reflection showing all of those differences -ones she couldn’t attribute to anyone or anything-, but now her eyes mirrored something she wanted to dive into. Before they screamed 'different’ now they sang to her. The blue swimming with something that connected her to something bigger than herself. She could sense someone else in them. She sat in the water until it cooled, staring at herself until her eyes crossed and she could no longer see clearly. The voice that echoed in her mind seemed closer to her when she looked at herself, more like it was a part of her than simply another segment of white noise.

Brianna Ellen Randall did this night after night, often sitting in the water until it had gone tepid and cold. She didn’t worry though, because her thoughts kept her occupied.

As the water gargled, the bubbling glug amassing at the plughole as she emptied it once more, she saw in her distorted reflection something she’d never seen in all the time she’d been looking at herself this way.

She saw home.

She started to sneak into her mama and papa’s bedroom at night in the hopes that her mama would talk to her in her dreams. Bree’s heart would always sink a little when she came away empty handed, she swore she’d heard her whispering a name a few nights prior but so far both of her parents had been motionless in sleep, only moving occasionally to shift position.

One night, whilst the wind howled and the windows rattled, Bree had been spooked by the storm. She’d lunged forward as the thunder crackled through the sky and gripped her mama’s hand, her small fingers curling around the jagged silver ring that lay there. All at once and without warning Claire had said a name. Bree’s heart was pounding so hard in her chest that she couldn’t quite make it out, but from that night onwards she’d instinctively known how to get her mama to talk.

The next few nights she’d slept through and woken full of sorrow that she’d missed it, but eventually a bad dream woke her and she’d stumbled blearily into her parents bedroom once more. Taking Claire’s hand against hers she’d sat on the floor by the bed massaging the ring on her finger until her mama had started to babble in her slumber.

First it was just one-off words; then came the stories. Bree collected them, writing down all she could in a little journal her papa had procured for her. Eventually she had a whole pad full. Stories of far off lands, of green, of daring men on horseback, and of a fearless warrior who stood tall amongst all the others, who laid down his life for love.

She rushed home after school, forgoing her usual habit of waiting in the library for her father to collect her, she had too much on her mind to wait. She could have just used the bibles the library would have stocked, but she had a feeling she needed her own. Faith, she recalled the woman saying all those months ago. That in itself could have meant any number of things, but the small pocket sized worn thing her mother had given her years ago, a gift from Reverend Wakefield, seemed to call to her.

She groped under the plant pot for the hidden key for what seemed like an age, her fingers trapping against the bottom of the heavy ceramic base until she finally managed to grip it. In her haste to get upstairs she slammed the door so hard that her first year kindergarten photo fell to the floor with a thud. She paid it no mind as she scarpered to her room and pulled the tatty bible from below her pillow.

At her desk she scoured the pages, no clue as to what she was looking for. Nothing seemed to stand out, nothing that could lead her on the voyage of discovery she’d assumed it would. Her parents arrived home, offered her dinner, generally fussed around her until she shooed them both away. She wouldn’t be distracted. The sun started to dip in the sky, the faint rays of deep yellow dancing through the thin gap in her curtains. Then, all of a sudden something caught her eye. It was written in scrawled letters at the bottom of a page, the black ink faded with time and wear. Faith, 17,44; it read, a slight curl on the 'F’. The breath caught in her throat as she ran her tiny fingers over the intended text.

So focused on those handwritten words was she that it took her a while to notice the page on which they were scrawled. Hebrews 11. The words of first line seemed to float off the page as she read, trapping themselves on the backs of her irises. “Now faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen.” Her heart was thudding in her chest, 'things not seen’ seemed most important. Then, almost at the same time the lyrics to the song the choir had sung to her class sprung up. “They live in you…” whirled around her brain meshed with the lines from her bible, she closed her eyes and focused inwards trying to connect with her conscious.

It wasn’t long before her father told her of a most important trip, his eyes alight with excitement at the prospect of journeying -once again- to see Reverend Wakefield on the quest for historical information that only the old reverend could help him to find. The school holidays were fast approaching and Brianna’s mind whirled with the infinite possibilities that now lay before her.

Reverend Wakefield had been the one to give the bible to her mama, that meant that he knew the key to its origins.

Without letting on a word to either of her parents, Bree broached the subject over a quiet family dinner. As the clock ticked loudly on the mantle she turned to her papa, a coy smile on her face as she tried to quash any feelings of excitement before she’d gotten either of them to agree to her proposal.

“Papa, you said Mr Wakefield has a son and his housekeeper has a daughter around my age?”

Frank looked up over his thick rimmed glasses as he sipped on his tea, Smiling a little he passed Bree another bread roll as if coaxing her to eat more before coughing a little to clear his throat. “Yes darling, they do. It’s lovely over there with young Roger and Fiona running about the place, it makes the manse seem alive.” There was kindness in his voice and also a hint of sorrow as he spoke about the children that startled Bree somewhat, but she ignored it and nodded.

“Well, since it’s holidays,” she began, watching as Claire chewed slowly on the last of her beef, before glancing once at her daughter and then back down at her plate, “maybe I could come with you? I’d be good, I promise!” She chimed in almost immediately, not giving Frank the opportunity to decline her straight away. “I’ll play with Roger and Fiona nicely, I won’t get in the way…” looking up from under her lashes, Bree played the doting daughter card whilst her heart was pounding mercilessly in her chest.

Frank placed down his glass and looked across at Claire with an unreadable expression on his face, “what do you think?” He asked, calmly, but Bree picked up on a certain undercurrent of tension. Ignoring it, Bree twinned her legs under her chair to stop herself from bouncing where she sat.

Claire looked at Bree, her eyes softening as she watched her daughter desperately trying to curtail her growing excitement.

“Please, mama…pretty please…” Bree mouthed, her sweaty palms resting solidly on the dinner table as she silently pleaded with her mother.

Claire sighed and nodded. “But please be careful, love. No running off from your father, alright?”

Nodding wildly, Brianna pushed herself away from the table and skittered off to her room - too excited now to consider finishing her supper. It was only later, cocooned under her duvet with the bible clutched tightly to her chest that she felt the slight pinch of sorrow at double-crossing her parents. Frank was willing to take her, something he’d never been accepting of before, and already she was conceiving ways that she could go off investigating a land she’d never even set foot in before.

Heck, she didn’t even know *what* she was looking for. Again the little niggle at the back of her mind piped up, its quiet voice easing her worries just enough. Something was guiding her, something unseen but incredibly hard to evade. Putting her trust in this –ghost– should have made her nervous.

It should have, but it didn’t.

“I’m coming for you,” she sighed as her eyes grew heavy, sleep claiming her. “Don’t worry, you won’t be alone for long…”

The fresh Scottish air hit Brianna the second she stepped off the plane and the urge to rush off into the wilderness became almost overwhelming. But she managed to calm herself.

Frank, seeing her immediate excitement, took hold of Bree’s hand, his large warm fingers keeping her firmly at his side. “Stay close please, Brianna,” he muttered, turning his head to give her a firm but fair nod. “It’s busy here and your mother will never forgive me should I lose you in the airport before we’ve even begun, eh!”

Bree giggled as Frank tickled her palm and guided her towards customs and their luggage collection.

Reverend Wakefield was there in the arrivals lounge, a large friendly smile plastered across his face with a young lad by his side. Bree spotted her name twinned with Frank’s on the small white placard and she waved at the pair as Frank grappled with two heavy suitcases.

Blissfully the car ride passed quickly. Roger, slightly older than Bree by a few years, helped by pointing out a wide array of scenery as they drove from Glasgow up to Inverness. The mountains were amazing, the beauty of the flourishing heather captivated her in a way countryside never had before. Instantly she felt at ease here, her unconscious guide going almost silent as they made the last part of the drive through Aviemore and up through the last few miles of the Cairngorms national park.

“Do ye like it then?” Roger probed, his wide blue eyes alight with wonder at Bree as she pushed her nose against the glass of the small car as she tried to capture every moment of the passing landscape.

“Oh yes,” she sighed, sounding very much like Claire in that moment, her Bostonian accent seeming softer since her arrival on British soil. “It’s so beautiful out there.”

“I can take ye to see some nice places whilst our fathers work, Brianna, should you fancy? Fiona is verra excited about having someone to share Inverness wi’…”

Frank turned in his seat, listening as the kids conversed. His stomach lurched at the mention of the outskirts of Inverness, the past rearing up before him like a tidal wave as his thoughts turned to Claire’s disappearance and something in his belly told him to be wary of allowing Brianna to wander too far. Shaking his head, he dismissed the notion, certain that Bree knew nothing of her mother’s forays into Scottish history. ‘Silly,’ he admonished, not even stopping to warn his precocious daughter of the dangers. ‘Roger wouldn’t take her near to the stones,’ he continued, his internal monologue dismissing it as daft.

In the back, Bree smiled to herself. Roger and Fiona were willing and able to take her on adventures in the Scottish wilds and her inner voice was quietly pleased with the revelation. Still unsure as to why, she knew now that she could get where she needed to be.

The text in the bible sprung forth before her eyes as they finally pulled into the manse. She didn’t know who’d written it, or why…but she had the feeling she was about to find out.


Warnings: none!


;Children. I always wanted one. Ever since I was young. So did Justin. And when I fell pregnant we were over the moon. Once I gave birth to our beautiful baby boy, I was instantly in love and I knew Justin felt the same. He loved our baby with everything he had. I never regretted having him one bit.

;But moments like these is when I wish I could just shove him back where he came from. Even if I do love him he can be a big pain in the ass, but yet again he’s my pain in the ass.

“C'mon, please Jason.” I pleaded to the five month old. “Just go to sleep.”

He continued to whale about, squirming around, giggling and crying all at the same time. I sighed, looking down at the phone in my hand. “Jason,” I whined. “It’s way past your bed time. Actually, it’s way past my bed time.”

Jason only leaned forward and clapped his hands, giggling as if it where funny he was making his mother both exhausted and frustrated. I rubbed my hands over my face, making sure to put extra pressure over my tired eyes and sighed. “You know what, I’m just gonna leave you in your crib. You can sleep on your own.”

I picked the five month old off Justin and I’s shared, king bed and moved him over to his crib in the corner of the room of which Justin insisted on putting in here. I wanted Jason to have his own room but Justin convinced me to put it in here until he was one.

I placed Jason in his large crib and secured the cage to make sure he wouldn’t roll out. Jason only looked up at me with dreadful eyes and began whimpering. I chose to ignore the boy since I knew what he was trying to do.

He may be young but he’s smart. He knows just how to push my buttons and get my attention.

With hesitance, I ran out of the room and quickly shut the door, instantly regretting my actions. I leaned up against the door and listened out for any noises.

It was silent at first, giving me hope that maybe he had decided it was time for rest. All being heard was slight tossing and turning until Jason’s fidgeting turned into whimpering, then cries for attention.

I groaned on the spot and quickly entered the room again to see the boy standing, holding the sides of the crib for balance while yelling out cries.

I quickly pulled him out of the crib, muttering quiet profanities under my breath and moved him to lay down back on my bed. “Why won’t you sleep?” I whined.

I lay Jason down on his stomach and switched the side table lamp on. I then moved to sit directly in front of him with my legs crossed on the bed.

He stopped his tears and looked up at me with his mouth cascading open and wide eyes staring up at my form. It made me realise just how much I really loved him and how I could not stay mad at my beautiful baby boy, even if he has currently deprived me of 5 hours of sleep.

I sighed, lying back on the bed besides my baby, and he quickly used that as an invitation to scoot over to me and climb on my stomach. He lay over my body, kicking around happily and I then just decided that if he wasn’t going to let me sleep, I could at least try to get a little bit of rest.

I closed my eyes, making sure to keep my hand on Jason, just Incase he scooted off somewhere where he could hurt himself and slowed down my breathing but Jason seemed to not have been happy at my current actions and made quickly to spin around and slap my face with his little hands.

I groaned, finally feeling like I had had enough. I quickly shot up, grabbing ahold of Jason’s body and lay him in his crib. He instantly began to cry, sitting up, refusing to sleep.

I once again was about to give in to his cries and cradle him in my arms until I got a glance at the time on my side table ‘3:18am’, realising that enough was enough and I needed to sleep.

“Go to bed Jason. No more!” I yelled in a babyish but demanding tone.

His cries only became louder at my reaction and he made quick to begin kicking about. Minutes had passed of me just lying in bed, listening to his screams and once again, I got up and placed him on my sheets.

“Oh baby boy.” I sighed “What do you want? Are you hungry?” I asked him. He continued to cry. “Do you want your pacifier?” Still cried. “Blankie?” No use.

"What is it?” I whined. That’s when my ringtone began to go off, and I quickly looked across the bed at my phone to see Justin’s ID plastering the screen. I slowly made my way to answer it, placing the phone on speaker while trying to calm Jason down.

"Hey babe. Your awake? I didn’t think you would be.” He stated, but he soon must have heard Jason’s cries since he asked “is that Jason?”

"Yeah. He won’t let me sleep.” I whined. “I don’t know what he wants.”

“Aww. Is Jason being fussy?” Justin cooed. “I’ll be home soon baby, just try and put him down.”

"I will-” I suddenly stopped mid sentence once I realised that Jason’s cries had come to a stop. I spun around to see Jason laying on the sheets silently.

"He stopped.” I said in shock.

"Good. Try and put him to sleep then.”

Jason began to smile and kick around, but stopped once Justin stopped talking. I furrowed my eyebrows at my sons actions and said, “Justin, say something.”

"What? Why?” Justin asked

Jason giggled.

"Say something again!” I smiled.

“Umm….I love you?”

;Jason began smiling and kicking his legs happily. I smirked slightly. “How far are you?”

“I’m turning Into the driveway now.”

“Good. Hurry into the room.”

I hung up the phone and watched as Jason’s attitude turned from a happy one back to a fussy one. Soon enough Justin had made his way into the room, a massive smile on his face once seeing his son laying on the bed. Jason now shared the smile at the sight of his father.

Justin ran forward and grabbed ahold of Jason, holding him the air while attacking his face with kisses. “Aww my Baby boy!” He smiled.

Jason giggled, waving and kicking his hands and feet around until Justin placed him back into the bed, leaning into to give me a kiss.

"Hey baby. How are you.” Justin asked.

I sighed. “Tired.”

Justin smirked and turned to Jason. “Are you keeping mommy up for attention? Don’t worry son, me too.”

I Chuckled lightly “I just don’t understand. He won’t sleep.”

We both turned around to see Jason smiling in the bed again, looking up at Justin, who had poked out his phone and started recording his son. Suddenly Jason began to roll, getting closer to the edge, I quickly jumped forward grabbing ahold of him before anything could happen but he was so close to the edge, and I guess the shock had caused him to cry.

Justin quickly ran forward, taking ahold of Jason in his arms. He quickly quieted down as Justin rocked him back and forth, in a matter of minutes the room was completely silent.

I furrowed my eyebrows and leaned forward to see Jason sound asleep in Justin’s arms. My mouth fell agape, A look of shock on my face as Justin slightly chuckled. “Wha- how?! What did you just do that I haven’t done in the last 5 hours?!”

Justin smiled with a shrug “Guess us guys just stick together.”

"No. Guess he’s just a daddies boy.”

"He just loves me.” Justin stated proudly.

"No, he’s just a suck up to you. And your a suck up to me, meaning you both can kiss my ass.“ I smiled.

;Justin gasped "did you just tell your five month old son to kiss your ass?” He chuckled.

“It’s not that big a deal, I mean, he practically came out of it.”

"No he didn’t, he came out of your vagina.” Justin laughed. I shrugged.

“same difference.”

bonfires and sea breezes.

a “rule breakers.” drabble.

4,109 words | fluff
↳ your first kiss with your first kim.

author’s note: i swear this was supposed to be a lot shorter, but well, here it is! also, happy birthday me~ 

Originally posted by queenjisoo

The boundless waves ebb and flow, a bright, shining sun beats down on its occupants, and giggles can be heard from different directions. The air itself is infused with seawater, kelp, burning wood, and marinated meat, and despite the odd mixture of scents that one wouldn’t mix on a normal day—it’s springtime. Albeit not quite the ideal time for a trip to the beach when summers are usually much hotter in temperature and in business on the sandy shores, but it’s expected that the sights of Busan are far too good to pass up just because it’s a few months too early than the normal bonfire season.

With the arrival of your best friend, you could not stray from the idea of venturing the local beach with her and a few of your mutual friends just to make her first stay in your new home as memorable as any other time you’ve both gotten to spend together since the move. That itself was only a year and half ago, but you finally have her for the week and you’re absolutely ecstatic. With the past two weeks dwelling on your mind, you need Jennie and the comfort she can provide just by pulling you into her arms and then whisking you away on some convoluted adventure to only God knows where.

The last time this happened you both wound up in the downtown cityscape in your old hometown through public transit and a few hours of wandering. Taehyung had long since began ignoring you by then, but he was the one (with Jimin, of course) to come collect you two afterwards. He still didn’t talk to you at the bus station. Neither of you two expected it, but it felt like a far memory where you vaguely remember the small upset you were feeling about something as insignificant as a bad grade on a homework assignment so Jennie incited that trip.

Unfortunately, the upset you feel now is nothing short of a conflicted dilemma. Not a bad grade, but a bad case of feelings for sure. It’s confusing being a Sophomore in high school. There’s no instructions manual to feelings. If Guide to Understanding Your Feelings was an actual thing, you might’ve been that tempted to purchase it just for the sake of putting your heart and mind at ease. It’s just so damn scary trying to navigate through feelings that extend past platonic ones.

You believe those waters are better left alone… right?

Keep reading

“Was I Too Late?” Barry Allen x Reader

Pairing(s): Barry Allen x Reader

Note: I’m so happy that so many of you enjoyed “I’m Sorry” so that being said, with a lot of requests,as promised, here’s part 2 of “I’m Sorry” I really hope you guys like this post. If you have any other requests please let me know. This might get a part 3, depends on how people feel about part 2.

Y/C/N= Your Crush’s Name.

Request?: Yes

Word Count:1496

Summary: Barry and Reader have been acting off lately and Team Flash wants to know why. Does Barry realize that Reader is the one or does he stick to the thought of being in love with Iris?

Here’s part 1 “I’m Sorry.” for those who haven’t read it.


The conversation with Barry was only one day ago and it has greatly changed our friendship. Everyone noticed the sudden change in our friendship because of how obvious Barry has been. He wouldn’t talk to me, he wouldn’t look at me, he wouldn’t even be anywhere near me. Every time I walk up to him and try to say something he won’t even spare me a look. He would give me the same lame excuse and leave.

“Hey Barry.”

“Uh, I gotta go.”

It was never anything more than that. This awkward tension has been spreading to everyone and it has been killing everyone. Cisco and Caitlin have been trying to figure out what happened between us ever since the day started and Barry began to ignore my existence.

“What happened between you and Barry?”

“I have no idea what you are talking about.”

“Oh, come on. Yes you do. Why can’t you tell us? It’s me and Cait.”

“Guys, just please drop this.”

“It really shouldn’t be our business, but this is interfering with Team Flash.”

“I told Barry I love him, okay? Now he won’t even talk to me, let alone even look at me. I really do love him, but I regret telling him. I miss my best friend, but I ruined everything! Is that what you wanted to hear?”


“No Cisco, please just drop this.”

“Okay. We’re here if you need us to be.”

“Thank… Um, I’m going to head to Jitters, want anything?”

“Just coffee would be great.” - They said in unison-

“Alright. I’ll see you guys later.”

I just had to get away from them for now. I really didn’t mean for this to mess with our team, but Barry is making something out of this. He isn’t forgetting this conversation, and I can’t blame him. His best friend just told him that they love him out of nowhere and they know damn well that he loves someone else.

-”Ugh. I’m such an idiot.”

When I got to Jitters it was perfect. There wasn’t too many people but there was just enough people there. When I walked in, I ran into Iris. The perfect and beautiful love of Barry’s life. I couldn’t hate her though. I befriended Iris cos she’s a really nice and caring person, but it just hurts everytime I see her. She’s who Barry wants, but he can’t have since she’s with Eddie. Their relationship caused Barry pain. She’s the girl that broke my best friend’s heart. She’s also the girl who can fix it. Barry and Iris, best friends since they were small, it’s crazy to think that she never fell for him, but that’s exactly where we are. Barry is heartbroken that the girl of his dreams is with someone else and I probably made it worse by accidentally telling him my feelings for him and now I lost him. He left me, one of his best friends. I hate myself so much right now. While I was lost in my mind, I never noticed that Iris came up to me.

“Hey Y/n”

“Oh, Iris. Hey.”

“How are you? Anyone special in your life?”

“I’m okay, and no… Why?”

“Well I have this coworker who thinks you’re cute and I just want to see if you’re okay with being set up?”

“Well they’re not bad on the eyes… You know what, I don’t see why not. My love life isn’t going anywhere anyway.”

“Okay great! Well to agreeing, I’m sure you’re lucky someone will come soon.”

“Thanks Iris.”

“How’s tonight looking for you?”

“I can do tonight.”

“Excellent! Okay I’ll give em’ your number and everything after that is up to you two. Bye and have fun.”


I have to move on from Barry. He doesn’t feel the same and maybe this will help me… But is it too early? Should I wait? Maybe it’s better if I wait. No, I need to move on. Although wouldn’t they be a rebound, but thinking about it anyone I date no matter how long I wait will be a rebound. I’m going on this date. The line for Jitters was very small, so I finally went to order our coffees.

”Three coffees please.”

“That’ll be $5.97.”

“Here you go.”

“Thank you have a good day.”

Before I could head out to the door I was stopped.

“Hey Y/n”

“Oh hello, Y/C/N, Right?”

“Yeah, I’m really happy to hear that you agreed to go out with me tonight.”

“Oh, me too. So what are we going to do on this date?”

“I was thinking dinner and a movie? Or is that too cliche”

“Haha, no, no. It’s totally fine. I can do dinner and a movie. How about at 8?”

“I can do 8. I can pick you up or you can meet me here? What do you say?”

“I’ll meet you here, I still have work and I’m going to need some time. We can let Jitters be our magical place.”

“See you at 8, Y/n.”

“See you.”

I’m making progress, and that’s good. It’s just a date. One date. I need to stop talking to myself and give Caitlin and Cisco their coffee. The drive to Star Labs was nice and quiet. The thought of this date was still on my mind and now I can say that I’m pretty excited about it. My date is cute and a very sweet person, I’m looking forward to it. I’m ready to move on.

“Finally! You have been gone for so long. Our coffee is probably cold now.”

“Oh, hush Cisco, here’s your coffee Cait.”

“Thank you, so what took you so long?”

“I ran into Iris and well… she set me up on a date tonight at 8…”

“Woah, don’t you think that’s a bit quick?”

“Cisco, Barry has no feelings for me whatsoever. I need to move on and I’m looking forward to my date with Y/C/N. Please don’t think too much into this either. It’s just one date.”

“I thought you love me.”

I turned around to see Barry, my best friend who started ignoring me.

“I do, but I need to move on and-”

“And going on a date will help with that?”

“What are you saying, Barry Allen.”

    “I’m saying that you shouldn’t go on this date.”

     “Care to elaborate?”

    “Alright. You told me yesterday that you love me and now you’re going on a date with someone else? That doesn’t add up.”

     “You said you didn’t love me and so I’m choosing to move on. You can’t just be mad at me for wanting to move on by going on a date with someone else. You told me you didn’t love me. You asked if I wanted you to lie to me. I said no. You said sorry. You said you didn’t love me. You started to ignore me. You didn’t say a word back to me. You can’t be angry.”

    “I was wrong okay?! I started ignoring you cos I wanted to know my emotions and I can say it now cos I know, but I’m in love with you. My best friend. The one who let me rant to. The one who did anything to make me happy. The one who cared about my happiness. The one who was always there for me. I love you too.”

     “Barry. You can’t just do that to me! You can’t tell me you don’t love me and expect me to not try to move on. You can’t do that! You said you didn’t. It’s Iris and always will be! You’re lying to me! You’re only saying this cos I’m going on a date. You don’t mean it. You-“

     “You! You dropped that on me after a long day and I didn’t have time to process it. I’m not only saying this because you’re going on a date. I’m telling you this because I love you and I don’t want you to go on this date. I want to be with you. Please don’t go.”

       “Barry. I’m going on this date. If I feel something then I’m sorry and if I don’t. Then maybe. I have to go… Um. Bye Barry, Cisco, Caitlin.”

       “Bye.” -They all said in unison.-

“If they break your heart… I’ll be here.”

“Thanks Barry.”

I walked away as fast as I could. I just need to think about this date and go back to this later. I want to be happy and maybe I can be. Whether it be a new cute acquaintance or Barry . The fate of this one dinner defines the future.


“Was I too late Cisco? Cait?”

“Time will tell buddy.”

“It’s just one date.”

You walking away from them broke Barry’s heart. He watched as his best friend and new found crush left to go get ready on a date. Nothing hurts more than losing the one you love to someone else again.

Love is a Two-Way Street II Steve Rogers

Request:  as you know I am extremely extremely extremely obsessed about your blog ,so could I request prompts 37 and 45 for Steve Rogers? Maybe where Steve accidentally embarrasses the reader in front of a crowd and it’s just full of angst w/ a hint of fluff?😂 Thanks so much babe!❤ ( @moodywritertrash )

Warnings: very long fanfic so buckle up, shitty writing, and some swearing

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Word Count: 3.4K  (prob the longest I’ve ever written sorry)

A/N: there really isn’t much of a storyline in the beginning imo. but I went into tons of detail so I hope y’all like it!

Originally posted by thosekidswhohuntmonsters

You poured coffee into your mug half-heartedly as your boyfriend, Sam Wilson, told you the latest news of your last mission. Well, Sam wasn’t technically your boyfriend, more like a fake one. Sam only agreed to be your faux beau to spare Steve Rogers’ feelings.What you had with Steve was, well, to put it bluntly, complicated.

Steve had been your best friend for what seemed like 4,000 years. He knew you inside and out, better than you knew yourself. And it may sound cheesy, but it was true, Steve was your other half, the better part of you.Sure, you didn’t know him before he was Captain America, but you might as well have. On lonely nights when you two wouldn’t be able to sleep or were just feeling downright insecure, you’d creep up to each other’s rooms and sneak out to the balcony. He’d recall stories of the past as your eyes gazed up at the twinkling stars.

But what was a friendship without setbacks? You and Steve had tried to hook up before (6 times to be exact) but it always felt too unreal. It had the feeling of pressure. You always did it for everyone else, forgetting that that kind of relationship was for the two of you, not for anyone else: the Avengers, the media, etc. Steve always respected your decisions to end that part of your relationship.You loved Steve. Always. Forever. But this fake relationship with Sam was as much to keep Steve’s feelings away as it was for your own. You didn’t want a real relationship with him to end badly and ruin your friendship. You adored him too much to lose him.

Steve loved you as well. He never knew the truth about your fake relationship,but he respected its boundaries. He would never dream of hurting Sam to go after you. He adored you, almost too much to lose you.

Sam waved a hand in front of your eyes. “Earth to Y/n. You’re about to tip that mug.” He said. You blinked, remembering your surroundings. “Oh god, sorry Sam.” You said, grabbing a napkin to wipe up the mess. He chuckled as you messily blew the hair out of your face. Sam continued with his story, “So anyways, the guys jumped off the building, landed, but they couldn’t see my grenade thrown their way! Like, you didn’t see that?!”

“I know, Sam. I was there.” You both laughed at each other’s dorkiness. Tony and Bruce walked into the room, followed by Nat and Steve. “Okay people, we’ve got an announcement!” Tony said through a voice amplifier. Everyone covered their ears as he spoke.“Just when I thought you couldn’t get more annoying,” Nat mumbled.Your back straightened out of impulse as you saw Steve. That shirt is way too tight, you thought. He sent you a small smile as he peeked his head into the fridge. Why he was being so distant, you didn’t know.

Tony ignored her, “So since that last mission was successful,” He began, “And since we haven’t informed the U.N in three weeks,” Bruce finished. “We are hosting a Gala. Pretty much for everyone in the U.N and lots of drinking. Party starts at 8. Dress nice, there’ll be royalty there.” Tony said with a smile. “Aww, Stark, it’s so nice of you to think of me as that.” You said with a sarcastic smile. “Haha, if anyone was royalty we know it’d be me.” He retorted. You sashayed out of the room while waving your hands in a “nah” signal.

“Ouch,” you groaned, clutching your side for comfort. Wanda extended a hand to you, “If you didn’t want it to hurt you should have dodged.” She said in her thick Sokovian accent. “Gee thanks, I’ll keep that in mind next time.” You said in annoyed humor. You felt a jolt of electricity course through your skull, immediately alerting you Wanda had pierced your mind. You gave in, the pain taking over and allowing you to relax. Wanda let out a deep breath, “You should tell him.” Your eyes widened as you processed what she said. You shook your head silently. “Y/n, you know keeping him in the dark won’t do him or you any good.” She said, her voice as small as a whisper. “I-I can’t. We’re just friends. Just friends. Nothing more.” You mumbled.“Oh but you would love for it to be more than just a friendship,” Wanda said, giggling. Your cheeks turned red. You loved Wanda, but she knew all the buttons to push. “Okay, fine. Maybe I will tell him.” You said.“Tell who what?” Sam said. 

Wanda laughed at your nervous expression, “Well if it isn’t the bird, the Vision, and the third wheel.” She motioned to Sam, Vision, and Bucky. You gave a nervous laugh, trying to force your way out of the conversation. 

Can I tell Sam? She mind-said 

Go ahead, you’re right anyways this has gone on long enough, you said back.

You grabbed a set of gloves and moved over to a punching bag. A few minutes later and you had started melting your insecurities of telling Steve the truth had gone away. You felt a tap at your shoulder. On impulse, you swung an elbow back. You felt nothing but air as you toppled to the floor.“I’m sorry, Miss Y/n, did I startle you?” Vision said as his technological eyes furrowed into confusion. “No no, I’m fine, Vision.” You said as he helped you up. “Here, I’ll hold the bag.” He said, coming up behind the punching bag and holding it steady. You gave a smile of thanks as you started again. Maybe it was because Vision was holding it, or your lack of training, but the bag barely moved an inch.“Wanda informed me on your situation. Maybe you should tell Mr. Rogers.” He said. You sighed, back to this topic again, you thought. 

“I know I should, it’s just the nerves that got me spooked.” You said, continuing to punch. You stopped for a second, rubbing your fists. “But, what if he takes it wrong? It could undo all those years of friendship.” You said, looking at the ground. Vision stared at you for a second, unable to comprehend that emotion. “Then, it is Steve’s loss.” He said.You glanced up at him, surprised that he had said that and regarded Steve by his first name. You sent a smile of thanks, “That’s very sweet, Vision.” He bowed all gentleman-like. You laughed as he gave you a smile. Wanda, Sam, and Bucky walked over from where they were standing. Sam looked at you, knowing what you both meant. “So this, uh, thing..between us..?” Sam began awkwardly. You nodded, “Yeah, it should end.” You laced an arm over Sam’s neck, pulling him in for a hug. He chuckled, “I’m gonna miss my fake girlfriend and her fake kisses.” He joked. You laughed, giving him a peck on the cheek. “Last one for old time’s sake.”

You all walked out and into different rooms to get ready for the Gala.The guys were waiting downstairs for the guests to arrive as they heard the click click of high heels coming down the stairs. “Finally,” Clint muttered. Everyone turned to look as Nat and Wanda descended down the stairs. Nat had dressed in a long, tight, black, backless dress. Wanda had on a maroon dress that skimped down to her knees. 

You peeked out to make sure no one was watching as you walked out. Let’s say dresses weren’t much of your thing and heels less. You stumbled to the stairway as you gripped the handrail for leverage. Steve turned to face you, his breath hitching in his throat.You had on a baby blue dress, the kind of blue that matched his eyes, your hair curled at the ends. Steve’s eyes traced the lace across your chest and midriff as he took the sight of you in. His heart throbbed in longing, but he knew he couldn’t have you, just not yet.You almost fell down the stairs as you tried to work your way down in four inch heels. You made eye contact with Steve and gave a nervous smile. 

Steve snapped out of his trance and leaped up the steps to offer you his hand. You thanked him as he practically carried you down. He let go of you gently, remembering you already had someone to do what he did for you. He backed away, eyes focused on the ground. “Y/n, you look amazing.” Tony and Sam said, smiling politely. “Thanks, guys. You both look pretty dashing yourselves.” You said in reply. You walked over to Steve, seeing he had on a tight white shirt and a black vest. You sucked in a breath as you looked at him, all muscles and jaw lines, when really he was the guy who reassured you you were perfect, the guy who laughed at your jokes and called you funny nicknames.“You look handsome, Captain.” You said jokingly, nudging him with an elbow. He smirked at you, “Not to bad yourself, doll.” He said. You laughed as the first of the guests started to arrive.

The Gala wasn’t so bad. Most of it was socializing and champagne. All around you people were marveling at your dress. Clint had brought his oldest son and wife along, so you were kinda stuck babysitting. You laughed as Clint’s son sent a spitball into Tony’s hair, Tony clueless as ever.

Steve was leaning against the bar with Sam, having drinks like regular, normal friends. Steve glanced over at you, hearing your pretty laugh as you grinned at him from afar. Sam caught Steve looking, a smirk forming on his lips. “You like her, don’t you?” He asked. Steve whipped his head around, failing to look confused. Sam gave him a yes-it’s-that-obvious look. Steve sighed, “I’m sorry Sam. I know you’re with her, and I’m really trying not to but,” He began. He turned to you again while you were making small talk to someone. Sam would feel guilty about this later since you were the one who was supposed to tell him, but he caved and told Steve they had broken up. Steve looked shocked, that’s how good you guys had acted. “Y-you’re both okay right?” He asked. Sam nodded, “We’ll always love each other, it was just that we weren’t the right match.” He explained. Steve nodded.

An hour later everyone was on the dance floor. There was a slow song playing and all the couples had started to dance. You glanced at Sam out of impulse, then remembered you were no longer together. You took a drink from the bar as you crossed your legs. You didn’t notice as Steve walked over to you. He bowed, “May I have this dance, doll?” He asked in a prince-tone. You set your drink down as you rose from your seat, “Why of course, Captain.” You replied. Steve’s ears turned red as you said Captain. You looped your arm through his as he guided you to the center of the floor. You placed your arm on his neck and intertwined your other with his hand, just as he had taught you before. You both started swaying to the music slowly. Steve cleared his throat, “So, you and Sam…no longer a thing?”

“No, Steve. D-did he explain why?” You asked. Steve shook his head. You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding, “Steve,” You faltered. You tried to speak, but your words failed you. You had prepared for this, just tell him. Steve gazed at you longingly, watching your mouths form words he could all do but understand. “Y-you know I love you, let me begin by saying that,”

“Sam and I.. weren’t really ever a ‘thing’. We were never romantically connected. I lov- no, my feelings were for someone else. You understand, right?” Steve looked dubious, but he nodded. You glanced at his eyes, hoping he could forgive you for what you were about to say. At this point, the song was almost done, and most people had abandoned the dance floor. “Forgive me, but my feelings are for you.” You whispered against his ear.

Steve had to take time to process what you said. Time slowed, all he could focus on was the sound of your voice. He replayed what you said. Did you actually have feelings for him? “I’m sorry, come again?” He whispered. You blushed a bit, “I’m sorry, it was wrong for me to hide both our feelings-”

“Wait wait our feelings?” Steve could feel his temper heating, how dare you hide your own feelings? How dare you assume he wanted you back? How dare you make him wait for you? How dare you cloak your feelings from him, making him even more desperate than he already was for you? But most importantly, how dare he let himself fall for you that easily. “Y/n, you realize that you made me wait — made us wait —to be with you, to have you, to hold you, and all this time you hid that from me, when we could’ve been with each other from the start?!” He said, his voice rising. You recoiled slightly, both from his anger and from his sudden burst of realization. “Do you even like me? Or am I just another Sam?” You eyes glinted with fury as Steve fumed. “Of course I like you, I have since I met you!” You whisper-screamed, trying to keep the attention away from the both of you. “Don’t give me that. Since you met me? Y/n, I don’t think you even know me right now.” He said with sharpness. You were on the verge of tears, this was what you dreaded. “Steve it’s not like that-”

“Oh it’s not like that? It’s exactly like that! You can’t just assume I want you back, because right now I am really questioning it!” He yelled. Everyone in the room turned to face you both, your cheeks turning red from embarrassment but not daring to look at anyone but Steve. Steve kept his eyes on you, rage written all over his body. You two had fought, but it had never gotten this bad. You weren’t even mad at him, you were mad at yourself, for making you take on this poisoning secret, for letting Sam in on it, for letting Steve believe he was nothing more than the ground you walked over. “Screw you, Steve Rogers.” You whispered with finality, stalking away with nothing more than the clothes on your back and the tears on your face.

All the rage had gone out of Steve in less than a second. His body shook in the grip of shock. You loved him, but what you had to do just to admit it was too much for him. His attitude hid under the mantle of being Captain America. Nat excused herself from Bruce and walked over to Steve in the middle,

 "Go get her before it’s too late.“

Steve’s eyes sparked up and in seconds he was bounding across the room, trusting his body to know the way to your room as he went over his thoughts in his head.

You closed the door behind you, not having the strength to even slam it against the frame. You pressed your back to the wall and slid down to the floor as you held your hands to your head. You murmured to yourself of little nothings, saying how you were an idiot for telling him, or how you already missed the feel of Steve’s body against yours.

A few minutes later you decided to clean up. You checked yourself in the mirror, mascara running and eyes red and slightly swollen from the tears. You almost laughed at the sight of yourself, you’ve never seen or felt yourself this weak before. Steve was the kind of person who made an impact on your life.

Steve had reached your room 10 minutes ago, not knocking or even opening the door. Just listening. He heard the shower on. He heard your voice as you sang, something mournful yet melodic. Your words flowed over him like warm syrup, but he couldn’t make out what you sang.Steve heard you as the shower turned off. You sat on the bed and started sobbing softly. Steve was about to knock before he heard you, he paused abruptly.

"Y/n, please open the door.”

Your ears perked up as you heard his voice. Steve’s voice was identifiable from miles away for you. You slowly wandered over to the door. You pressed your hand to the doorknob, contemplating whether you should open the door or not.Steve was kneeling on the ground, his back against your door. He really didn’t expect you to open it, especially since he was a complete jerk to embarrass you in front of everyone at the Gala only an hour before. He sighed against his hands, only to fall over into your room.

You were really regretting opening that door. Steve had tumbled in and hit the floor. He looked up at you in grey sweatpants and an old high-school t-shirt. He saw your red eyes, your wet hair dripping over him. Steve scrambled to his feet. “Y/n, please listen. I’m so sorry. I know I had no right to do that. I know you were only protecting us. I-”

You had wrapped your arms around his neck, fitting your body against his. You felt the designer vest underneath him crushed under the force of your hug. You felt tears down your face, once again, threatening to bleed through both your clothes. Steve’s skin was warm, warm from feeling the familiar touch of your skin. He gazed down at you before enveloping his arms around you. He held you there for a long time, both of you soaking in the silence. It was as if you already knew what the other was saying, had already forgiven each other for what the other had done. His grip was tight around you, but you didn’t let go.

And then you were kissing him. You were kissing each other. He fit his body against hers, following the shape of you with his hands. Steve had never felt so much longing for a person, not since Peggy, but then came you. Your tongue ran gently over his lips, and you opened your mouth under his. He memorized the taste of you, the touch of your skin against him, the coolness of your hands apart from your body. There was no hesitancy as he scooped you up, wrapping your legs around him, and carried you to the balcony.

It had to be past midnight, because the stars were out, almost gone by manmade light. Steve gave himself up to you, almost holding his heart out to you and waiting to see if you would hold it and heal it or pull out a knife.You stumbled against the balcony ledge, your fingers pushed onto the railing. Steve let go, his baby blue eyes darkened to the color of the sea at nighttime. The realization of what you had both started sinking in to your thoughts. You pressed your forehead against Steve’s chest, aching for another touch. “Steve,”“I know, doll. I know.” He said, running his hands through your now-dry hair.

You both stood there for about an hour, gazing at the stars like old times, talking about what you two meant to each other and how you’d tell the group. You never let go of him, and he wouldn’t let you.

You walked downstairs hand in hand with the one and only Steve Rogers. After last night, you and Steve decided to extend your decision to your friends.Tony was on the couch with a slight-hangover, Nat was drinking coffee with Sam and Bruce, and Wanda, Vision, and Bucky were over by the table, eating breakfast.

Steve cleared his throat. Wanda looked up first, her eyes growing wide as she read both your minds. She walked over to you, placing a hand on your shoulder in proud astonishment. Sam was the next to realize what went on. He clapped Steve on the back. Nat and the rest were next, finally catching on. You were both thrown congratulations and hugs, everyone was glad to see their favorite couple back together. Tony spoke up, “I’m so happy the old man finally has a girl friend, but that was no excuse for ruining my Gala last night.”

“Sorry Stark, you can host another Gala at their wedding.” Bucky replied, giving a cheeky grin to the two of you.

And maybe Bucky was right 😉 

HAHA IM SORRY THIS SUCKED ILY! comment or reblog if you wanna be on the tag list for future Steve Rogers/Marvel fics!

Also check out my masterlist,


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STEVE ROGERS/MARVEL TAG LIST:   @hollycornish @lovely-geek

Cool Girl - Lydia Martin

listen to the song here

You can run free, I won’t hold it against ya

You do your thing, never wanted a future

Fuck if I knew how to put it romantic

Speaking my truth, there’s no need to panic

Lydia Martin was a beautiful, genius, girl.  But she’s also a fucking liar.  

Back track.

Last saturday night, it was pack night.  Which means big sleepover, movies, games, snacks, gossip, a little beer (though the werewolves didn’t care much to drink, waste of time).  But it was so much fun, you did it at least once a month.

Two days ago, you spent the night at Lydia’s house.  Along with Allison, Kira, Malia, Scott, Stiles, Liam, Mason, Corey, and Hayden.  Yeah… big group.  But anyways.  It started simple enough.

Five whole movies in, and you were pretty exhausted.  Everyone was spread out in the living room, but you and Lydia were bundled up on the floor, against the couch.  She had her head on your shoulder, something she often did in the friendliest yet cutest of ways.  You’d been harboring some serious feelings for her, but you’d done pretty well at hiding them.

“You want coffee?” She murmured, and you hummed a happy sound.

“If you want me up for the next four movies you guys have lined up, then coffee sounds wonderful” You said.  Lydia giggled, her sweet, soft little laugh, then stood up.  She reached her arms out to you, and your hands latched onto hers, letting her pull you to stand upright.  Then you followed her into the kitchen, out of sight from everybody else.

“Caramel or mocha?”

“Caramel please” You said, sitting up on the counter while she began making your coffee.  You watched as she moved about the kitchen.  “Mm you’re like a cute little barista” She turned to you, raising up an eyesbrow.

“Cute huh?” You shrugged a shoulder, giving a flirty wink.  But it was only a joke.  You did this often, it was your way of hiding your feelings by putting yourself right in front of her.  Jokingly.  Lydia giggled, winking back and pointing a finger gun at you.  When she finished, she carried it gently over to you, one hand under it, her other fingers curled around the handle.  You grinned, but she stopped in front of you, eyes looking up at you from under her lashes, then down at the cream she’d swirled over your coffee.  You watched, confusion written all over your face.  And then she slowly inched her tongue out, swiping off a small amount of whipped cream, just on the tip of her tongue.  She stared at you with wide, lust filled eyes, and suddenly it wasn’t a game anymore.

“Wh-what- Lyd-” You swallowed thickly as she slipped her tongue back into her mouth, and she watched you visibly gulp.  She smirked, and handed you the coffee.

“Just making sure it’s not too hot for you” She said in a low voice, then turned, flicked her hair over her shoulder, and walked out of the kitchen.

Once she was back in the livingroom, you rushed to the sink for a glass of water.

No, let’s not put a label on it

Let’s keep it fun

We don’t put a label on it

So we can run free, yeah

I wanna be free like you

Later that night, you were back in your spot on the floor, wide awake from the coffee.  But everyone else passed out.  You looked over at lydia, who still sat next to you.  But barely spoke other than a few giggles to the movie.  She caught your glance, and shuffled to stand.

“I’m gonna go put on PJ’s, wanna come?” She asked and you nodded, standing on your own, and following her off up the stairs.  You closed her bedroom door as you entered her room.

“I have the best fuzzy sock-”

You were pressed up against the door, a pair of plump cherry tasting lips pressed against yours.  In seconds you were moving furiously, your hands dropping to grip the girl’s waist, tugging her body against yours.  Lydia sunk her teeth into your bottom lip, and you moaned softly.  She took the opportunity to slip her tongue between your parted lips.

You practically growled, bending your knees and sliding your legs under her thighs.  She squealed as you lifted her up, and crossed the floor to her bed.  She was giggling as you laid her down, and left a trail of wet kisses down her neck.  Lydia made busywork by yanking up on your shirt.  But your arms, which were trapping her under you, were in the way.

“Off-off” She whined, and you chuckled, sitting up, straddling her waist properly, and pulling the fabric up over her head.  SHe gazed at you for a moment, then shuffled to get her own shirt off.  You smirked, which quickly turned to a grin.

“I gave you that bra last year as a birthday present” Lydia glanced down at the baby blue bra that she was wearing.  She blushed, a pink tint that spread from her ears, to her cheeks, down her throat, and across the top of her chest.

“I want to have sex with you” Your eyebrows raised at her forwardness.  Her blush deepened.

“Well you’re in luck” You said smugly, and leaned over her again.

Rules you don’t like, but you still wanna keep ‘em

Said you were fine so for whatever reason

Sure we can chill, try and keep it platonic

Now you can’t tell if I’m really ironic

You stared at Lydia from across the hall, where you were stood at your locker.  Scott was talking to you, but you were too busy giving this girl the evil eye.  She was talking with some jerk, twirling her hair, batting her eyelashes, running her hand up and down his bicep.  Your lips pulled into a slight snarl.

“Uh y/n.. Your eyes” You blinked quickly, willing away the golden yellow.  “What’s this all about? What’s up with you glaring at Lyd?” You wanted to growl, but instead opted for holding the door of your locker even tighter.  “y/n-”

“None of your business Scott, I’m fine” You spat, slamming it shut.  Scott’s eyes widened at the dent in the door, but you didn’t care.  Just stormed off, passing Lydia on the way.  Her eyes caught yours, and a look of guilt washed over her face, before smiling softly.  You narrowed your eyes, and walked away.

Her heart broke when she saw the way you flicked your hair over your shoulder.

She knew she fucked up.

Lydia told the guy in front of her some shit excuse she didn’t remember, and decided to get to class early.  Honestly she just needed time to think.

What she knew.  A, that she had sex with you, and that she liked it.  B, that you liked it too, seeing that after you told her how much you liked her.  C, that right now you hated her.  What she didn’t know.  A, what the hell was up with her sexuality.

She’s been sleeping around with guys since she was sixteen, but suddenly Scott bites you to save your life and she meets you and… she fell for you.  Hard.  At first she thought it was just great friendship, you did everything together.  But something that night changed her.  Maybe it was the way you giggled, or your close proximity.  But she’d found herself leaning on you, then she pulled that stunt with the whipped cream.  She wasn’t even planning on wearing pajamas, but she needed a reason to get you alone.

But she ruined what was the start of a good thing when she began to ignore you since that night.  Truth be told she couldn’t deal with any of it.   Not with conflicting with herself, her sexuality, not with hurting you and telling you she couldn’t be with you, it was too much.

What would her mom say? What would her family say? Her friends? Peers? Teachers? She would be disowned if her mom ever heard her say how she felt about you.

But now she was just growing more conflicted with herself.  

Would it be worth it?

I got fever highs

I got boiling blood

I’m that fire kind

Lydia caught you, sitting in the library.  Your eyes fixated on an opened textbook, pen rapidly scribbling down notes without even having to look at the notebook.  She smiled at this, knowing that your handwriting was still a perfect script- after all she was the one to teach you how to do this little trick.

Before she had the chance to talk herself out of it, Lydia was speed walking into the library, and she stood confidently in front of you.

“May I sit?” You looked up, not having heard her come in.  Your eyes widened, something that didn’t go unnoticed by Lydia, but you quickly reverted your expression to it’s previous blank stare.

“Scott said I can’t be a werewolf in school.  So I guess I can’t make you not sit here” You mumbled, and looked back down to your book.  Lydia took the bare minimum of an invitation.  She pulled out the chair across from you, sitting down and setting her bag by her feet.  She waited patiently, for you to say something, or pack up your things to keep you from distraction.  But you didn’t.

“y/n I… I came here to talk”

“I’m sure you did” You said, refusing to look at her.  You didn’t know how much this broke her heart, and quite frankly, you didn’t care.

“It’s-it’s important to me”

“Mhm” Lydia’s throat swelled slightly.

“Please would you at least look at me” You fought back the urge to growl, or maybe cry.  But looked up, meeting her round ocean eyes.  They were broken, and you features softened at this.

“You don’t want to ignore me? Like you do every other problem of your life?” You were angry, but you kept your voice down.  Sure, you wanted nothing more than to make her feel the pain she inflicted on you, but possibly outing her made you hurt on the outside.  You just don’t do that to a person.

“y/n I want to tell you how sorry I am, and I didn’t mean to ignore you I just didn’t… I didn’t know how to talk to you” Your brows raised, and you closed the book in front of you.  “y/n there’s a lot going on in my head and I don’t want to let you down”

“It’s a little late for that” You frowned.  Lydia looked down to her lap for a moment, then back to your eyes.

“I know it is but- but I want to explain”  You nodded, prompting her to continue.  “I have never done anything like I did… Saturday… before”

“Neither have I” You said, shaking your head and shrugging your shoulders.

“Okay but you’ve-” She lowered her voice.  “You’ve actually come out and I- I never even thought about it until…”

“Until what?” You asked softly.  Lydia sucked in her bottom lip for a moment.

“Until I met you” She shrugged one shoulder.

We could burn together

Lydia smirked at you, leaning against the locker next to yours.  You snuck a sideways glance at her, eyes darkening just slightly as she twirled a curly strand of hair in her finger.

“So maybe tonight we can go to the movies” She offered, and you nodded in agreement.

“Sounds like a date” You winked, and pecked her lips before closing your locker door.

“What do you wanna see?” Lydia asked, walking next to you on the way to your next class.

“I’m cool with anything, seeing that it can’t be The Notebook” Lydia rolled her eyes.

“Taunt all you want, I know that you secretly love it” You rolled your eyes at her, something you actually picked up from her.  “At least give me an idea so I can pre order tickets, I want the late night special” She said the second part quieter, and you sent a small smile her way.

“A late night special?” You questioned quietly, raising a brow.  Lydia mimicked your actions, and laced her fingers in between yours.  “How would you feel about a double feature?” You winked and she couldn’t help but giggle at you.

“Sounds good” Lydia said, and stood on the tips of her toes to press her lips against yours.

You ignored Jackson Whittemore’s cat whistle.  But Lydia didn’t.

“Fuck off dick twitch!” You covered a hand over your mouth, stifling a laugh as she raised a middle finger to the boy.  Jackson’s mouth curled into a snarl, and he stormed up to your two.  You rolled your eyes, sighing in a bored fashion.  Just as he reached out to Lydia, you picked him up by his collar, and slammed his back into a row of lockers.  

“Alright, Whittemore” You growled, and his glare turned into a wince.  You pushed him up higher, his feet dangling about a whole foot off the ground.  “You and I both know I’m capable of ripping your throat out in a various amount of malicious ways, each one hurting more than the last.  So make another comment? And I’ll have your innards poured all over the shit Porsche of yours” He swallowed thickly, and closed his eyes.

“Okay, okay I won’t again just-just please don’t hurt me” You smirked, just a little one of victory, and let him go.  He collapsed to the ground, gasping and scrambling to get up.  You walked back to Lydia, slinging an arm around her shoulder.

“Has he always been that pathetic?” You asked.

“Yep.  Since the first grade, when Greenburg threw a worm at him”

Ice cold, I roll, my eyes at you boy\

You’d picked up a lot of tricks from Lydia, and she you.  Studying tools to fashion sense, you helped each other out from the beginning.  But the greatest thing she learned from you was to not care what others thought about her.

anonymous asked:

Vivienne says herself that not every Circle experience is the same and thus admits her """"privilege"""" as... a mage... and a black woman (shown in a banter with Cole, there is indeed colorism in at least Orlais) caught in the same system... as everyone else... why does everyone say that her being successful in a systematically oppressive environment make her a bad guy. I love your analysis stuff but don't be That Guy

… I … well, look. I’m sorry if I have said something offensive. I am capable of it, I know.

But … I don’t think she’s ‘a bad guy’, any more than I think that of the Iron Bull or Dorian. I am disappointed in a great many of Bioware’s writing choices in Inquisition, and I include some of Vivienne’s story in that disappointment.

I mean, let’s be clear here: Vivienne is amazing. She got out. She got herself right the fuck out of that Circle and all the way to the Orlesian court. She’s a candidate for the role of Divine, despite being a mage. A breaker of boundaries, a long-term survivor – indeed winner of the Game – and one of the few mages in southern Thedas to have actual combat training.

Vivienne can be kind to those she likes and respects, and give solid advice in a crisis, she can play high politics and dirty tricks with the same aplomb, she is fierce in battle and deadly at court.

She is an incredible and accomplished woman.

But do I think she admits and understands the full extent of her privilege? No. Further, I think much of what she learned in the Orlesian court was actively harmful and wrong. Orlais is a cruel and vicious place. It is bigoted, violent and awful, and has strong prejudices against mages, elves, non-Andrastians and foreigners of all descriptions – I doubt I can begin to imagine the slurs and insults they’d have for a woman of Rivaini heritage. I daresay Cole barely scratches the surface.

Mages rise quickly in the new Circle, having more freedom and responsibility than ever before - even if all true power lies with her.

Epilogue – Inquisition

That’s Vivienne’s ending slide if you make her Divine, and it makes me so sad. It makes sense, of course, that she would do these things. In Orlais self-interest is all. You’re a fool if you don’t accrue as much power as you can, because you can’t trust anyone but yourself. And of course she treats her fellow mages well: she is absolutely not a villain.

But – oh, Vivienne, Vivienne, what have you done? You brought the mages back to the Circles, and you placed the Divine over them with absolute power. I trust you not to go around butchering them or making them Tranquil; of course I do. But your successor? Or the one who comes after her? Them I do not trust. They’re not going to stop hating mages in Orlais because one sits on the Sunburst Throne. Orlais being … Orlais, they may well hate them more. You’ve given your successor a weapon, Vivienne, and it’s pointed right at the mages’ throats.

And you did it because you only know Orlais and the Game. Because you don’t much like things outside of it. And – and this part isn’t your fault – because they gave you so little opportunity to learn.

They silenced Fiona, you see. They took the quest for the mage rebellion and flung it into the future, into a world that has so little to do with their struggles. All those voices that cried out in the earlier games and the novels – they shut them up nicely.

Solas speaks in favour of the rebellion, a bit, but he is fundamentally outside it. He favours the rebellion of slaves in general rather than this one specifically. He can’t talk about it like someone on the inside could.

Why is Fiona – elven woman, mage, former slave – standing meekly in the library instead of right up in your face, arguing. I would pay to see your duel of words: I may think Fiona is right and you are wrong, but you’re both so damn smart and brave and interesting, it would be worth it just to watch the fight.

Why doesn’t In Hushed Whispers put you in with the rebellion, withstanding a Templar siege, allowing the rebels to be courageous and desperate and afraid instead of just – giving you a couple of discontented voices in a pub? Why can’t Vivienne walk into the heart of that with you, and hear what they have to say?

I don’t think she fully appreciates how much suffering she escaped – or indeed, how much harm the Circle did to her, and how much harm it will continue to do, if she restores it.

Vivienne: You must see the value in restoring the circles, Cassandra.

Cassandra: Provided they fulfill their purpose. Too many have suffered since the mage rebellion began, but we cannot ignore the abuses that prompted it. Without change, we risk repeating the events at Kirkwall.

Vivienne: Or recreating its opposite. An overly lenient circle is a comparable threat. Kirkwall is lamentable, but it was the misuse of power, not restrictions, that led to the first Blight.

Vivienne Dialogue

They could have sent you to Kirkwall, Vivienne. They could have done it to you when you were ten years old, too young to know how to stop them. Of course you acknowledge that what happened in Kirkwall was an abuse of power: you’re neither a fool nor a monster. But the person who sent you wouldn’t have been abusing power. You’d have been nothing more than part of a quota. It’s their job to shuffle mages around: alleviate overcrowding here, supplement some talent there. That’s the Circle: guardians of mages, treating them like children and packing them off to places for ‘their own good’.

They’d have made you Tranquil, Vivienne. Or they’d have snuffed out your life in some dark corner. Because you don’t know how to be mediocre. It would destroy you to pretend to be just average at magic, to sit in your cell and do nothing, and make sure never to draw attention to yourself.

The Circle has killed so many people, Vivienne, only through not caring what they wanted. Why can’t Hawke tell you that, Vivienne? Why can’t a pro-mage Hawke howl their outrage at this? You could be Karl Thekla, Vivienne, if your luck had been a little different, and Hawke would know that.

Cassandra: You would prefer to have the templars return to guarding the circles, Vivienne?

Vivienne: Of course, my dear. They need better oversight, clearly, but one does not throw away a tool because it was misused.

Cassandra: Few mages would ask for templars in the circle.

Vivienne: Speak to Ferelden’s first enchanter. You might be surprised. When abominations ravaged your tower, suddenly the world holds far too few templars.

Vivienne Dialogue 

Did you ask him, Vivienne? Or did you just believe what the Chantry said about that little incident? I can only think the latter, because First Enchanter Irving could have told you that the Templars just ran away from trouble. They locked all the mages in with the demons, Vivienne, even the children, and they plotted to murder them all. Think of that, Vivienne: I know demons frighten you. The Templars would have had no qualms about letting them rip out your heart.

It was mages who saved the day, Vivienne. It was Wynne who protected survivors, and then fought her way to the top of the tower to free her fellows. It was Niall who got the Litany of Adralla. Maybe the Hero of Ferelden was a mage too. And Irving and his people – so many of them resisted torture that they could still make up an army to fight the Archdemon. And they did that, too.

Why can’t Leliana tell you that, Vivienne? She was there. She favoured helping the mages. She could tell you who was better at fighting demons; who was brave enough to face them down and win.

Inquisitor: Cole, Vivienne doesn’t want to talk right now.

Cole: She’s afraid!

Cole: Everything bright, roar of anger as the demon rears. No, I will not fall. No one will control me ever again.

Cole: Flash of white as the world comes back. Shaking, hollow, Harrowed, but smiling at templars to show them I’m me.

Cole: I am not like that. I can protect you. If templars come for you, I will kill them.

Vivienne: Delightful.

Vivienne Dialogue

The Circle did that to you, Vivienne. It forced you to fight a demon, it made you smile at the Templars who dragged you in there because they’d kill you if you didn’t. And it’s left you so scared. You’re scared of Cole; you’re scared of any spirit. You do care about him: you’re more than smart enough to see past the horrors of your training, to realise he’s a person and worry about him. But you’ll likely never kill that fear, Vivienne. And they’ll do it to more mages, Vivienne. Some of them will die, and some of them will be left as scared as you. They do it to spirits, too: every bit of misinformation, every bungled summoning, every spirit dragged into the world against its will and turned into a demon – because the Chantry thinks it knows about spirits when it bloody doesn’t.

You could listen to the Avvar, Vivienne, or we could go to Rivain. You could talk about it with Dorian, when the pair of you have finished snarking. You could listen to a Dalish Inquisitor. We could find ways to show you that it needn’t be this way, if only the opportunities were there.

I don’t want to destroy Vivienne, or make her less than she is. I want her to keep on being awesome, and being a candidate for Divine. I just want the game to engage with some of the points it brings up, instead of just letting it sit there.

What I wrote about her was one line in a post that was otherwise about the Iron Bull. I referenced Cassandra, Dorian and Cullen in the same paragraph, precisely because Vivienne is often singled out and I don’t think that’s fair because the problem is not with her, but rather with the game’s writing in general. It was meant to point out that most of the characters have this problem: they are dangerously wrong on some point, favouring oppressive systems or bigotry, and the game does nothing with it at all – at best it lets the Inquisitor deliver an objection that is not in any sense ‘remembered’ by the game in later quests or dialogue.

But – that said, I am flawed, and I am more than capable of being wrong. I wrote all of this to explain my issues with the game in relation to Vivienne, as I did in relation to the Iron Bull before. I could write much the same thing for any character in Inquisition.

If you still think I’m being unfair to her, or prejudiced, then say so and I’ll simply apologise. I can remove the line from the earlier post, too, if you like.


“Ooooh! Look who got caught under the mistletoe!”

Y/N looked up at Jack’s voice, eyes falling on the mistletoe Joe had hung in one of the doorways. She dropped her eyes to who was standing under it, and let out a laugh.

Oli groaned and tried to protest, as Josh blinked up at the innocent plant hanging above his head.

“Fuck it, mate!” Josh exclaimed, grasping Oli’s face and planting a quick peck on the lips. “Merry Christmas!”

The rest of the boys and Y/N burst out laughing as Oli stumbled back, wiping at his mouth. Josh just grinned and walked into the room, grabbing another drink.

They were all gathered at Joe’s flat for a small Christmas party, wanting to see each other one last time before they went separate ways for the holiday. The party was in full swing and quite a bit of alcohol had already been consumed by the boys, leaving them loud and excited, hollering at each other from across the room. And throughout the entire night so far, it had been a joke to get people caught under the mistletoe, although Josh and Oli were the very first to actually be successfully called out on it.

“I hate you so much, Jack.” Oli grumbled, flopping onto the couch.

“Nah, mate. You enjoyed that too much!” Jack winked. He had been the main one trying to get people to kiss, his eyes constantly darting to the doorway whenever someone moved. Y/N sipped on her drink, determined to try and stay in her spot on the couch, because she did not want to get caught in the same situation that Josh and Oli had just been in.

Well, maybe she did with one of the boys…but no one knew that.

Her eyes darted towards the kitchen, where her best friend was leaning against the counter, talking with Caspar. Joe’s face was lit up in a smile as he tossed his head back, a laugh escaping past his lips. His blue eyes were shining, most likely a result of the drinks he had consumed so far tonight. They darted over to her briefly, and Joe lifted his drink in her direction, his smile softening into a private one.

She smiled back before he turned his attention back to Caspar, and then she let out a sigh.

Yes, much better to stay on the couch. Where she would not risk getting caught under the mistletoe, where she would be forced to kiss him.

“You know you have to move at some point in the night.” Conor’s voice made Y/N jump as he slid into the spot next to her.

“I don’t know what you mean.” She replied casually, shifting to look at him.

“Sure you don’t. Except you have had how many of those?” He pointed at the drink in her hand, “And have yet to go to the bathroom. I know you’ll have to get up soon. And we all know the only path to the bathroom is through there.” He then points towards the doorway that Josh and Oli had just passed through.

Y/N glanced from the doorway to Conor’s face, which had a smirk gracing it.

“Are you seriously keeping track of my bathroom usage?”

“If it means getting you stuck under the mistletoe? Yes.”

“That’s just weird, Conor.”

“What’s weird is you avoiding leaving this couch.”

“I’m not avoiding it.” She told him, shifting slightly in her spot.

“Sure you aren’t.” Conor winked, lifting the drink in his hand to take a sip, his eyes still locked on her.

“Oh piss off.” She grumbled, shoving him slightly. He just let out a laugh, leaning back against the couch, hollering something at Mikey across the room.

Y/N did her best to ignore Conor’s words, but since he mentioned the bathroom, she began to realize that she did indeed have to go. All the drinks she had consumed throughout the night all suddenly decided they wanted to make themselves known. She tried to put it off, she really did. But the need became too strong.

So, glancing at the at the other boys, Y/N checked to make sure none of them, particularly the Maynard brothers, were paying attention to the doorway, before she stood from the couch and made her way quickly to the bathroom.

Feeling relieved, she reopened the door and stepped out, bumping into a warm body.

“Woah.” Joe reached out to steady her, grinning down at her. “Watch where you’re walking, love.”

“Sorry.” She mumbled, feeling her cheeks warm.

“I feel like I’ve barely talked to you all night!” He kept talking, but his one hand remained on her waist. Y/N knew then that Joe was slowly becoming drunk, he always became more touchy when he did. And she was very aware of that hand on her waist.

“Not my fault you’ve been busy being a host.” She teased.

“I’ve been neglecting my best friend though, that’s just not right.” He shook his head, eyes shining down at her.

“You’re forgiven.” She patted his chest, noticing how close they were standing. Her heart was racing, and she really hoped he couldn’t tell how nervous he was.

“Well come on, I’ll sit and talk with only you for a while.” Joe moved his hand from her waist to her hand, tugging her towards the living room. Y/N was distracted, that’s why she didn’t think about it, and allowed him to do so.

But as soon as they stepped into that doorway, they froze as the Maynard brothers began to call out.

“STOP!” Jack grinned over at the two.

“And look up!” Conor added, pointing his finger to above them.

Y/N cursed herself silently, before lifting her gaze to Joe, who was already staring down at her, a small smile still on his lips.

“It is the rules.” He spoke softly, shifting to face her. “And you know me and rules…”

Her breath caught in her throat as his fingers brushed across her cheek. As Joe’s face moved closer to hers, she felt her eyes flutter close, and a moment later his lips met hers.

The kiss was simple, innocent, but it was perfect. And when he pulled back a moment later, Y/N couldn’t help when her lips chased after his. His chuckle made her eyes reopen, and she blinked up at him.

“Merry Christmas, love.” Joe smiled down at her, squeezing her hand, which was still in his.

“About bloody time!” Conor called out.

“We should have found mistletoe ages ago.” Josh commented.

“Why do you think Joe hung it in the first place?” Caspar’s smirk was evident in his words, and Y/N shot Joe and questioning look, but he simply shrugged in response.

“I was hopeful.” He told her.

Laughing, she reached up to grasp his shirt, pulling him down for another kiss.

Because hey, they were still under the mistletoe.

Last Night Wasn’t Enough

gif source

Last Night Wasn’t Enough

Rating: M

Your slim fingers gingerly brushed over the tender and inflamed blotches of red that dotted across your neck. Physical evidence of last nights affairs.
A soft involuntary groan escaped your still swollen lips as you looked yourself over in the foggy bathroom mirror. You ran out of your favorite makeup concealer a few nights ago and had yet to run out to buy more. How the hell did Jay expect you to go to work later today and face your co workers with a neck full of hickeys?! You thought to your self as you toweled yourself dry. 

As you made your way out of the bathroom in nothing but a towel. Feeling a little refreshed from your hot shower, you headed towards the bed. Jay was still sleeping soundly, face completely relaxed. You smiled softly at his sleeping figure. Your annoyance from earlier, gone in an instant. You knew how hard Jay had been working recently, with managing both his company and music career. Deciding to let him sleep just a little bit longer before you had to wake him up, you gathered up the clothes that were carelessly thrown about the room during last night’s fun.

Keep reading

Post break up

I haven’t written anything in a little min so this is a quick throw together enjoy y'all!!!! “If you look any harder your eyes are going to fall out.” You said to Seth as you passed him backstage. You had just given your new boyfriend Dean Ambrose a good luck kiss before his match. Seth scoffed at your statement. “I could care less if that dog gets my left overs. I’m just here to watch Dean lose.” Recently you and Seth had broken up after one hellish fight. But Dean had been there outside the locker room when you stormed out crying. Dean always seemed to know just how to cheer you up. No matter how bad the fight was with you and Seth. This fight though was very different from the others. Seth had lost his cool at the other guys in the locker room watching too hard as you skipped around greeting everyone in the back. When you told him that was ridiculous and that you only had eyes for him he didn’t want to hear any of it. Demanding that you start wearing more than just your ring gear. After that fight Dean kept checking in on you even stopping by your hotel room and bringing you dinner. You started riding to shows together since Seth had began to ignore you. Dean had gotten the nerve up to ask you on a date after riding to events with you for a could weeks. “He’s going to win” you laughed as Seth crossed his arms in irritation. And of course Dean won! Seth couldn’t wait to get to the ring for his match. Before Dean could even make it to the back Seth stormed onto the ramp. “I won my match and a night with my girl.” Dean said to Seth as they stormed past each other. Dean knew he was getting under Seth’s skin with that. Seth knew with that statement he wasn’t going to get you back. @squirrel666 @welshwitch5 @hardcorewwetrash

Originally posted by totaldivasepisodes

Petty ((Green(Blue)/Red))

Green is a petty loser

You knew you were being petty, but you couldn’t help it! He treated that damn Pikachu like it was the best thing in the world. He’d choose it over you, his one and only husband, any day.

You weren’t exactly sure this was the best way to deal with it, but you didn’t have the time to come up with another plan, or the patience. So, for the past three days, you’ve been ignoring Red.

And how has he reacted? Not at all, he’s the same as he’s always been, quiet and mysterious.

No, “hey Green, are you okay?” Or even a, “have you been avoiding me? Wanna talk about it?” Nothing, and it’s only been fueling your petty anger more.

You were probably gonna stay over at a cheap hotel or something tonight. You weren’t even halfway through the day, you were still sitting at your gym working on some paperwork, and you already were mad at Red.

The only message he had sent you since you began ignoring and avoiding him was a picture of Pikachu wearing Red’s hat.

You had quickly put your phone away and ignored the looks you got from the trainers around your gym.

You just couldn’t begin to understand why Red preferred his Pikachu over you. You understand why he loves his Pokémon, you love your own and shower them in affection all the time. But him and the yellow mouse were closer than he and said silent trainer.

You couldn’t even touch Pikachu without Red glaring at you, like somehow you’d taint the Pokémon.

You sighed and leaned back in your chair. There were several things you’d never understand about your husband, you might as well put this one on the list and stop acting so petty. Pack up and finally go home after staying at the gym for forty-eight hours straight and spending the other day walking around town and sleeping in a hotel.

You almost didn’t react when your phone buzzed. You were going to ignore it too, it was probably just Gold asking if he could challenge you again sometime, or maybe Wally asking for assistance with training. But you decided to pick it up, not like you’re really doing anything at this point.

It wasn’t Wally or Gold, but lo and behold, it was the one man who was currently swamping up your mind.

Red had left you a simple message, “Where are you”.

You swiftly typed out, “at the gym, duh.” and closed your phone, ready to go back to lounging.

You didn’t expect your phone to go off a second time, especially not so soon after you had sent your message.

“Come home.”

You licked your lips, eyebrows scrunching up.


The next reply took a little longer, and you wanted to add something cocky like, “what, can’t live without me?” But those times were over, Red could actually need something. Or maybe he just wanted you to grab something from the store on the way home. That sounded about right.

“Green, it’s been three days.”

“I miss you, come home.”

You sucked in a breath and avoided the eyes of your coworkers, rereading the texts from Red a few more times.

“Okay.” You didn’t have anything else to say, so you got up from your seat and put your stuff away stiffly. You weren’t sure what made Red message you first. It never went like this.

Normally you made a petty decision because you’re mad at something Red does, then you ignore him or doing something stupid. You come crawling back, spewing out apologies, and Red nods, petting Pikachu. You’re not sure if Red has ever forgiven you, for anything that you’ve done.

You head out, closing the gym early, and everyone is happy to see you finally head home to rest. Your back hurts like someone had slammed a bag of bricks against it. You should’ve gone home days ago.

Once out the door, you realized just how tired you really were. Your feet felt like lead weights, your back slumping over as you drag your body onwards.

By the time you made it home, sleep was the only thing on your mind. You didn’t even notice Red sitting in the living room, you headed straight for your shared bedroom.

Laying out on the bed, you listened to quiet footsteps walking down the hall towards where you were.

“No, I’ll be out in a bit,” you heard Red whisper, and you forced your eyes open to see what he was doing.

He was bent over, talking to Pikachu. Of course he was, what else would he be doing?

You watched him stand up and close the door, closing Pikachu out.

Huh, that was new. You fiddled with your wedding ring, rolling over to face Red.


He waved to you, and you chuckled tiredly.

“Miss me? I wouldn’t be surprised, I am one of the best things in yours and everyone else’s lives,” not the best thing, but one of the best. Pikachu held the spot of being the best.

Red nodded and got into bed with you, facing you as you faced him. He gently- that’s all he ever was, gentle- wrapping his arms around your waist.

“What were you doing?”

“Working, obviously,” you tell him, because you were. Sure it was only a coverup for avoiding going home, but still. You were working.

Red huffed out a breath, he was clearly annoyed with your response. It took him awhile to say his own reply.

“I was worried something had happened?”

It was your turn to huff out some air, “like what?”

“I don’t know, a robber, a new Team Rocket, something. Green, I don’t want you to get hurt. Why didn’t you call me or reply to my message?” He rubbed small circles against your hip, and fuck, you don’t understand why he’s being so sweet to you suddenly.

“Well nothing happened, I’m fine. I can handle myself. And the only text you send was of Pikachu,” you mumbled, turning your face further into your pillow.

“I’m not good with words.”

“You should try,” you tell him, curious to hear what he had to say.

“Green, you know how it felt when I was up on Mount Silver. How really we both were worried and missed each other? That’s how it felt, I thought I was alone again.” He kisses the back of your neck, and you can’t help but let out an airy sigh.

“You have Pikachu.”

“ I don’t love him like how I love you,” he kisses your check the time, and you turn over.

He doesn’t love you less than Pikachu, or even the same? Your heart speeds up, and some reason, it feels like you’re confessing all over again.

“I love you,” you tell him, because you do.

He nods, kisses you on the lips, and whispers that he loves you too the second you part. You rest your head against his shoulder, tired all over again.

“Why weren’t you coming home?” You have to answer him now, he’s gotten you all buttered up.

“I thought you preferred Pikachu over me, so I thought I’d leave you alone with him since you like him so much,” you sound petty even in your own ears.

Red even laughs, a light chuckle falling from his lips. You feel the blood rush to your face, and you feel like such an idiot.

“Only you would get jealous over Pikachu,” he toys with your hair, and you almost roll over to escape from the bed. Maybe you can sleep on the couch and pretend this never happened.

“Shut up, it’s your fault for never paying attention to me,” you listen to his calm sigh. Then he’s nodding.

“Okay, I’ll start to spoil you, then maybe you won’t run away and work for three days straight.”

You nod back, there’s nothing else in your mind. If he holds to his promise, you can expect a few nice gifts and sweet dates in your future.

You hope he holds up his promise, otherwise your lovely husband will be finding himself a nice place to sleep on the couch.

You fall asleep in his arms, Red rubbing your back as you fall into unconsciousness.

Not Now Niall... Pt. 2

a/n: so someone requested a second part. Hope you like. Tell me what you think!

You were trying to have fun. For the sake of the other boys you kept the smile on your face as you mingled and kept up appearances but it was hard. Niall had shown up with a pretty date on his arm and just looking at him smiling at her and laughing at her jokes had your stomach churning in a feeling you couldn’t describe.  You had said maybe three sentences to him since the night began. He wasn’t exactly ignoring you, but it was obvious things weren’t the same between the both of you. You’d been trying to pretend as though you were enjoying yourself, but you knew you couldn’t hold up the charade much longer. You would explain to Harry why you had left his party early later, but for now you had to get away.

You politely excused yourself from the group of people you’d been chatting with and made a determined dash towards the exit. The faster you got out the better. But as luck would have it right as you neared the entrance a black leather jacket blocked your path. You looked up into Zayn’s concerned eyes.

“Where are you going, love?” he asked peering down at you.

Anywhere but here

“I um- I don’t feel well. I’m just going to head home,” well it wasn’t a lie.

Every time you looked at Niall and his date you felt as though you were going to be sick.

“Y/N, are you leaving because of Niall?” he got straight to the point.

“What makes you say that?” you wondered how he knew.

“It’s no secret that something’s going on between you two or else you’d be on his arm laughing at all his corny jokes instead of her,” he nodded his head towards the couple, “Speaking of, where’s your date? Thought you would have brought Jeremy.”

“We broke up,” you shrugged.

A week after Niall had told you his feelings and then walked away you and Jeremy called it quits. He said he knew your heart wasn’t in it. And you didn’t deny it. All you could think about was Niall and that kiss.

Zayn’s eyebrows shot up in surprise.

Before he could further the discussion you saw Niall heading your way with his new girl in tow.

“I’ll see you later, Zayn,” you didn’t wait for a reply as you stepped around him and exited the club before your duo had the chance to become an awkward quartet.


You woke up the next morning and immediately sent a text to Harry apologizing for leaving his party so soon and without saying goodbye. You just couldn’t bring yourself to pretend any longer. You tried to tell yourself that you were miserable because of the rift between you and Niall and that you missed him, but it was more than that. You were jealous of the pretty girl on his arm who was cuddled up to him all night. You wished it was your ear he was whispering things into and you wanted to be the one in his arms laughing at all his lame jokes.

Usually you loved lazy Sundays because you and Niall would spend the day together lounging around all day and play Jenga. Since that was a thing of the past you settled for watching movies alone instead. Halfway through Hotel Transylvania there was a knock on your door. You’d gotten quite comfortable on the couch and contemplated staying put when the knock came again, this time more persistent. You reluctantly got off the couch and made your way to the door, swinging it open to look into the last face you expected to see.

“Is it true?” he asked.

“What?” you had no idea what he was talking about.

“You and Jeremy broke up. Is it true?” he repeated.

You made a mental note to never confide in Zayn, ever.

“Yes,” no point in denying it.

He made his way into your place and spun to face you, “What did he do?” his voice was firm.

You closed the door and turned to him, “Nothing, Niall. He didn’t do anything. It was my fault.”

His face softened as he looked at you, “Your fault? What happened?”

“You happened. You waltz in here, kiss me and then leave and all of a sudden I can’t think of anything else for the next week and a half but you and that stupid kiss. He tells me our relationship doesn’t make sense if my heart isn’t in it and I agree so we went our separate ways.”

At his refusal to say anything in response you snap at him. All this was his fault in the first place. If he had just kept those pretty pink lips and feelings to himself then neither of you would be in this mess.

“Is that what you came all this way to find out?” your voice was impatient.

And frankly, you were. You didn’t like the feelings he was stirring in you. You’d been quite fine with just being his friend before, but now…

“He’s an idiot for letting you go,” his eyes connected with yours as he stepped into your space.

You went to respond, but your words died on your lips as he interrupted you with a kiss. And just like the first time every thought dissolved and you found yourself kissing back. 

  • Vivienne: You must see the value in restoring the Circles, Cassandra.
  • Cassandra: Provided they fulfill their purpose.
  • Cassandra: Too many have suffered since the mage rebellion began, but we cannot ignore the abuses that prompted it.
  • Cassandra: Without change, we risk repeating the events at Kirkwall.
  • Vivienne: Or recreating its opposite. An overly lenient Circle is a comparable threat.
  • Vivienne: Kirkwall was lamentable, but it was the blithe misuse of power, not restrictions, that led to the First Blight.

satanic-anti-feminist  asked:

whatcha think of antifeminist111's anti-MRA talk?

I’ve spoke to them before. They think gynocentrism is, quote, “Men’s Rights theory is basically gender flipped version of Feminist theory, were men are oppressed in a women-centerd society, which was created because evolution made us favor women.”

This is partly bullshit because most anti’s and even most MRAs don’t think men are oppressed, and don’t think all women oppress all men, which is patriarchy theory. 

However, yes gynocentrism being because of the need to protect women so that our species can survive and repopulate is true, so where is the problem with it? I don’t see feminists saying that women evolved to protect men to keep the human species alive.

Patriarchy theory is so fucked and has so many holes, and they assume that just because one theory mentions how women are apparently oppressed, they assume that gynocentrism says that men are oppressed, when in fact it just means women are protected at the centre. Well - the intent is protection.

Plus, even if gynocentrism was somehow just patriarchy gender flipped, it makes a fucking lot more sense than feminist theory.

In my opinion in the UK at least, there is more evidence for gynocentrism such as putting women first in education despite boys falling behind, putting women first in DV shelters despite children and men also being abused, putting women first in homeless shelters so that men are left as the majority of street homeless, giving women less sentences so they don’t have to suffer prison etc

All of those things make more sense if you think of it as women being at the centre, rather than the feminist idea of all of those benefits being ‘benevolent sexism’ in which women are still the victims even when they’re benefiting.  Antifem111 calls gynocentrism a conspiracy and its not. Its not an explanation for everything like patriarchy theory has grown to be. Its an alternative viewpoint. And if any MRAs are using gynocentrism as an excuse for everything then they need to fucking stop because there are clearly more factors than a gender dynamic shaping our world. 

They said to me they don’t like ‘mens rights theory’ because they believe that sexism exists for both genders. But MRAs have never fucking said that sexism doesn’t affect women or can’t happen to women like some feminists say for men. We’ve been screaming that sexism can go both ways since we began and antifem111 either ignores that or has deluded themselves into thinking the MRM is just ‘feminism for men.’

This video from Doc helped me figure this out.

They can say what they want really. We’re still going to petition the government for equal rights such as gender neutral rape laws and anti-circumcision, raise money for men’s charities such as Mankind Initiative and groups such as CAFE, and open an alternative conversation about sex and gender, no matter what people say about us.

Sorry for the long post but the conversation I had with them before gave me a stroke

They’re up to something,” he said, narrowing his eyes.

Hermione pulled at her lip, looking conflicted. “Maybe,” she agreed. “But who can tell?”

“Ma'foy,” Ron suggested, reaching for another slice of pie.

“Malfoy?” Harry repeated, his head turning towards Ron of its own accord. “What about Malfoy?”

Ron swallowed his mouthful and cut into the new piece. “Well, you could trail him or something. If anyone knows what’s up with the Slytherins, it’ll be him.”

Hermione made an odd, strangled noise. Ron looked up in concern, and a look passed between the two of them that Harry couldn’t decipher.

He shook his head, ignoring their odd behaviour since it was most likely couple-related, and began to think of ways that he could shadow Malfoy. Where would he be likely to reveal the most information?

“Er, actually,” Ron stammered, his face growing suddenly pale. “What I mean is, Malfoy is the least likely to know what’s going on.”

Harry looked up with a frown. “But you just said-”

“The least,” Hermione interjected firmly.

“You’d be better off following Blaise Zabini,” Ron said at the same time.

Hermione glared at Ron furiously.

“Or no one,” he amended. “You could try following no one. I hear that’s a really good option.
An open letter to Martin Floreani (Founder & CEO of Flocasts)

Mr. Floreani, 

As I’m sure you know, over the last 2 days, the gymnastics community has been up in arms over an article on Gymnastike.  This article referenced stolen and/or fake pictures of McKayla Maroney nude and semi-nude. At the risk of beating a dead horse, some of your readers’ primary issues with Flocasts’s actions are: 

-The original unedited post linked to the site that contained the nude photos. 

-The photos are dated before Maroney’s 18th birthday, making them child pornography if they were indeed her. 

-The article was posted without the understanding that many of your followers are also minors. No NSFW warning was put on the link. 

-After hundreds and hundreds of disapproving tweets/posts from numerous individuals, including McKayla, the post remains up. 

-Content director Joe Battaglia defended his actions by claiming that Gymnastike was “obligated” to post this. (While major news about the actual sport was completely ignored.) 

The Impact 

Since the boycott began fewer than 48 hours ago:

-Gymnastike’s twitter account has lost 511 followers. These 511 followers  included some of the most influential individuals in the online gymnastics community. 

-The tweet “#BoycottGymnastike” has been tweeted 659 unique times.

-At least 278 people have publicly stated that they are boycotting due to Gymnastike’s poor judgement on this issue. 

-16 people have personally shared with me that they’ve cancelled their Gymnastike Gold subscriptions due to this issue, costing your company between $2,400 and $3,834 in subscription fees over the next year. 

-Numerous elite gymnasts, parents of elites and coaches have publicly acknowledged their belief that the choice to keep this post up is the wrong one. Notable objectors include Simone Biles, Aly Raisman, Victoria Moors, Aimee Boorman & Jennifer Pinches. Do you think that your “journalists” will be allowed in the gyms of those who worry that they or their gymnasts may be exploited?

-USA Gymnastics shared with several concerned fans that they are “disappointed and disgusted with Gymnastike’s decision and lack of good judgment regarding this, and (they) are going to re-evaluate (their) previous decision to grant them access to (their) events.”

The Requests

I tweeted earlier today asking followers what it would take for them to ever return to Gymnastike. The vast majority of responses said that it’s too late; the damage has been done. This list is a compilation of responses from the other followers, as well as from others in the online gymnastics community. I don’t claim to speak for everyone but for many of us, we will never view ANY Gymnastike content in the future unless:

1. The article is immediately taken down from the Gymnastike website.  
2. An official apology is made to McKayla Maroney. 
3. A public apology is made to your readers, many of whom are underage. 
4. Current Flocasts Content director, Joe Battaglia is removed from having any control over Gymnastike’s content in the future. 
5. The staff of Gymnastike is permitted to express their own opinions on this matter without fear of retribution. Staff should not be forced to defend the poor judgment of others. 

I urge you for the sake of Gymnastike, your readers, the gymnastics community and most of all McKayla– Mr. Floreani, take down this post. 


Carylers, Nine Lives Remember

One of the most memorable Carol synonymous quotes is undoubtedly the sassy-one-liner “Nine Lives Remember” which she throws at Daryl to teasingly reassure him about leaving her at the prison after he finds and rescues her basically near-death from the tombs. That particular moment like so many other CARYL scenes, personifies their connection brilliantly because it highlights just how much emotion can be communicated through just a few words and few meaningful glances in both directions.

As TWD series progressed we have seen Carol’s character transform in such monumental-strengthening ways that have been both incredibly inspiring to watch and even empowering in a lot of ways for anyone who has ever felt underestimated, overlooked or beaten down by life, circumstances or false love.
Carol essentially overcame things that were breaking her down before the apocalypse even arrived and in the end showed more emotional strength than even the toughest “warriors” and all their bravado. 

Unfortunately Carol’s story arc, blossoming “leadership” skills, conflict with the untouchable “alpha male” and potentially romantic relationship with golden boy Daryl Dixon, has made this strong woman a very polarizing character in the fandom and the consensus seems to be that fans either vehemently hate her or are devoted to celebrating and protecting who she is and what she represents.

Anyone who follows TWD Filming Spoilers, especially this year, is keenly aware that whenever there are any kind of “death rumors” or set complication, the first candidate up for “dying” is almost always Carol Peletier and the theories relating how and why run rampant on almost every Walking Dead forum.

This year, Carol’s catchphrase “Nine Lives Remember” is more applicable than any Carol supporter could ever be comfortable with.
Season 4’s killer arc and the introduction of a potential rival ship connected to Daryl Dixon himself, has made the “death” target on Carol much bigger and one of the most divisive issues in TWD Community.

I don’t go searching for negativity and I certainly don’t browse or visit other ship tags to find things that would naturally upset or scare me BUT every once in a while for one reason or another I come across a post that gets under my skin and drains some of my personal Carol/CARYL optimism no matter how much I try to ignore it.

Since TWD Season 5 filming began several Carol “death” justifications, reasons why and predictions posts have unfortunately made their way to me AND taking into account all the times the speculation tried to basically “kill” her off, it seems that the “Nine Lives Remember” mantra has become more important than ever.

Instead of giving in to the rumors and letting the negativity drain the Caryler in my heart I decided that if the “haters” can write up entire manifestos and snarky comments about why Carol should “die” and why her story has run it’s course, I decided to write up my own piece on WHY CAROL’S ARC IS NOT YET DONE or at the very least try to debunk their “main” arguments.

*The biggest reason why people say Carol will die is because she doesn’t have anyone to live for now that she is on the “outs” with Rick’s group and doesn’t have a “family” to contribute to. Carol is alone and doesn’t have strong ties with anyone so why not get rid of her - nobody will miss her!

This argument is the one that hurts me the most and the kind of thinking that has bothered me since the moment Rick left Carol behind in Indifference. In fact the lack of “family solidarity” and care is something that bothered me with a lot of other characters in Season 4. The narration didn’t address why these “familial” relationships seemed to have been broken so easily and with seemingly no emotional impact on the persons who “lost” those closest to them.

Carol had taken care of almost all of the people in that prison - she was vital in saving Hershel’s life, she took care of Lori while she was pregnant, she watched over Carl, Judith and Beth and was very close to Rick and Glenn.

Her relationship with Daryl while undefined and complicated was extremely close so the fact that TPTB had to explain to the audience that Daryl missed her was a huge misstep in the show design because it didn’t translate on screen very well at all. The rest of the group scattered after the prison fell and with the exception of Glenn and Maggie seemed to give up the rest of their “family” without too much thought.

That being said I still believe wholeheartedly that Carol was and continues to be important to them - the reunion will reignite, heal and deepen the bonds that already exist between them and saying that Carol needs to die because she is “alone” is not just malicious but also shortsighted and unfounded to boot.

Glenn and Daryl will be very happy to see Carol again and Rick and Carl will be overjoyed to see Judith and Carol together. Carol and Sacha were on the council together and while we don’t know how close they actually were on a personal level its likely that they were friends. Carol and Tyreese together have a bond that now with the confession and forgiveness behind them and everything they survived with Judith, Lizzie and Mika, is stronger than most people want to believe AND knowing Tyreese’s character I know that he will want to keep Carol close once they meet the group.
Carol might not have “blood” relatives or a definite romantic partner (yet) BUT she has her “person” Daryl and many others who would most certainly want to keep her alive, safe and with them.

*The second reason Carol supposedly needs to die is because some consider her a “threat” to the certain relationships others support or “ship” - primarily B*thyl and R*ckyl.

As a Caryler obviously I would be somewhat biased because I see Daryl and Carol together BUT even if I didn’t I don’t think eliminating Carol or anyone else is a good way to boost any ship pairing because that simply indicates that the relationship you favour is not strong enough to begin with.

The couple you ship happening only if Carol is indeed “gone” is devalued by that kind of logic because it implies the doubt or barrier in canon depends solely on Carol “interfering”. If Daryl indeed was in love with B*th then he would be with her even if Carol is still alive AND if Carol is capable in creating a conflict between Rick and Daryl then that implies she means more to Daryl than some would like to admit.

Getting rid of HER just to remove a complication in a relationship you believe in cheapens your “couple” and essentially gives Carol more importance and not less.
Personally I would very much prefer Carol and Daryl together and B*th still be alive because she is part of their family AND I would rather rejoice to see Carol and Rick have a good relationship then to have Daryl feel conflicted about whose back he should have more.

*There are some who would think Carol to “die” because she is no longer relevant, she’s already had her main story or she’s done all the “growth” and “change” she could possibly have without it being “overdone”
While I admit that Carol has had a big storyline in Season 4 and the dramatic developments in The Grove were absolutely incredible BUT I am not so sure that there is some big rule that dictates the “one story per character” pattern. To say that Carol had a great plot and a story so it’s ok for her to “die” now since she’s served her purpose for TWD is rather shortsighted and almost offensive to the show writers, the show runners and Melissa McBride herself.
Implying that she’s “changed” enough creates the same problem - now that she’s become strong, independent and a leader, her “growth” is complete and she has nothing else to achieve so welcome “death”?

Personally I think the very process of transformation has changed her character so much that Carol has basically reinvented herself and therefore her “new” persona is now capable of taking different directions and roles which wouldn’t have suited her “meeker” version in Season 2 or 3.

This Carol truly was a “late bloomer” and basically a completely different person from the abused woman we met in the quarry, afraid of her brutish husbands shadow.
Today Carol seems to fear nothing!

*One of the newest “reasons” why Carol would be better “off” dead is apparently her inability to reintegrate into the group because her new “strength” and leadership experience will cause her to defy and question Rick who is the “main leader” of the group and done with people defying his “rules”.

First of all Carol and Rick have always had a little bit of tension when it came down to his leadership and in fact she was one of the first ones to dare question some of his decisions BUT ultimately their relationship balanced out and she saw the value of him leading the group when he was indeed doing that…In Season 4 he wasn’t leading, he was farming and that was the difference.

In addition to that Carol has it in her to guide a group but the difference with her is that she is prepared to make tough choices for the safety of the ones that she loves, meaning that she does what needs doing AND if that means supporting Rick then that’s what she will do.

Carol is a leader but the difference between her and Rick is the simple fact that her motivation involves absolutely no EGO or desire to get into a power struggle and distract from the goal.

If Rick is leading the group the best way he can Carol wouldn’t endanger anyone by standing in his way - however after Season 4 I can’t see her standing behind him anymore and I believe her rightfully earned place will beside him instead.

*The “death reason” that upsets me the most is the suggestion that nobody in the group values or “needs” Carol’s presence anymore. That even if she is accepted back in the group she won’t be able to have relationships with the others and no real contribution because now that Lizzie and Mika are gone and Daryl has developed a closer relationship with B*th nobody really NEEDS her anymore.

Daryl, Glenn, Tyreese and Sacha don’t need her friendship
Judith and Carl don’t need their mother figure
Rick doesn’t need his wife’s best friend and Judith’s “mother”
Daryl doesn’t need his “person” and best friend
The group doesn’t need the newly discovered bad-ass who has made sacrifice after sacrifice in order to keep Judith alive in the wilderness and bring her back to her father and brother…

I am pretty sure every single one of those people would disagree vehemently with that kind of logical thinking and such thoughtless reasoning!
I bet the ney-sayers wouldn’t be able to utter that kind of negativity in front of the likes of Daryl Dixon!

Carol Peletier is a key character in TWD and one of the original Atlanta group members
She has shown so many times that she was willing to do anything, sacrifice anything and survive anything for the ones she loves.

Whether she is pulling Daryl back to the group, negotiating peace with the likes of Merle Dixon or killing Lizzie to keep Rick’s infant daughter safe and alive….Carol’s humanity and self-less nurturing nature is always the guiding force behind everything she does!

I have a feeling a heart like hers will take a lot more to kill than a few hateful headcanons of those that want to use her death to pursue their own agenda or who simply see her in the way…
“Nine Lives Remember”

CARYL ON My Lovelies



Ignored (3/5)

A/N: Hey guys, so while this could be considered a preference, these are actually prompts that I’m thinking of doing a short story to! I couldn’t get ideas to all 5 of the boys so I’m not sure if I’m going to post prompts for Niall and Zayn, but here the prompt ideas for Harry, Liam, and Louis! Basically the gist is, if you like one of these prompts and want me to continue the story, tell me which one you liked and I’ll tally it up. I’m only going to do one of them (for now) but if the others get a lot of interest then I’ll think about writing those ones afterward! I realized not too long ago that I’ve never posted a short story before and I’d really like to! Not full blown fanfic material, but just a short little several part story that is easy to catch up and interesting to read and just comes together very well. Let me know what your thoughts are!! Thank you for reading :) 


Harry: The text came out of nowhere and it almost made your heart beat right out of your chest. “Can we meet up?” was lit up on your phone screen and the words engulfed your vision; they were the only thing you could comprehend at the moment, and yet you couldn’t understand where they were coming from. It had been several weeks since Harry began ignoring you; he had cut you off without so much as a goodbye or an explanation and after several attempts of trying to reach out to him, you gave up. He had successfully pushed you away after warning you from the beginning that he possibly would, and you felt like a fool for not believing him. At first, you didn’t even know if you should give him the decency of a response. After what had happened, you felt embarrassed and you didn’t want to be one of those pushover girls who gave guys as many chances as they wanted. But maybe you needed to hear him out and see what was going on. Maybe he had a good reason as to why he was ignoring you, or maybe you’d finally be getting the closure you needed to move on. If you could even call it moving on, anyway. Harry was only your friend and vice versa, there had never been a relationship involved. But it still hurt being cut off so abruptly, so you were dying to get the chance to talk to him. But was it the right thing to do? You didn’t know what to do. Without thinking, though, your fingers typed out a response despite your better judgment until a sentence formed out, “Next Wednesday at 2PM is the only chance you’ll get.”

Liam: “Babe, do you want to go and get something to eat?” No response. “Liam, let’s invite some friends over for game night.” Nothing. “Li…talk to me.” Nada. This had been going on for days now, with Liam not even giving you a second glance. It was irritating you but it was also worrying you. Was he actually giving you the silent treatment? Liam had never been so cruel to you before and you kind of didn’t even know how to respond to this sudden hostility. It wasn’t until he stopped coming over to your flat and ultimately stopped responding to texts and calls that you really started to freak out; you loved this boy with all your heart and now he was falling away from you and you didn’t even know why. Your pleading was heard unto deaf ears and everyone else thought you were overreacting. “Give him some space, maybe he just wants to be alone for a while,” your best friend advised you, but you just couldn’t do that. Not when this had been a long term ordeal. Liam was going to talk to you whether he liked it or not. And finally you decided to get out of your flat that night and go over to his to see what he was doing that could possibly lead to not talking to you. You feared the worst: another woman taking your place. It seemed so plausible that it made you sick, but you wondered why Liam wouldn’t tell you about her, or that he was breaking up with you. Were you broken up? These questions were going to be answered, and they’d be answered tonight. Ferociously, you banged on the door to his flat before you realized you already had a spare key and then proceeded to use it. Your fears had been realized when you stepped into the dark flat, watching as Liam felt up a girl right in the middle of his couch, not even bothering to turn your way. You didn’t need an explanation anymore, and you didn’t need words to confirm that you and Liam had just broken up.

Louis: Missed Call: Louis. That had been the fourth time in a week you’d rejected a call from Louis. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to talk to him; you really did. But at the same time, he wouldn’t understand. Nobody understood the dilemma you were currently in, the dilemma from which there didn’t seem to be an escape. It was drowning you and keeping you from actually living your life, and you didn’t want to drag Louis down with you. The only solution you could think of was to push him away, just like you’d pushed everyone else away. It didn’t matter that he was different from all the rest, and that he actually helped you rather than just kept you company. Being with Louis was like a breath of fresh air. He’d been a great friend, a better boyfriend, but now he needed to be gone. You couldn’t hurt him. It was probably hurting him more with you ignoring him, but eventually maybe he’d get the hint. He’d finally understand that you weren’t right for him and you never would be. Your secrets were far too dark for that beam of sunshine. Your issues were far too sinister to have Louis handle them with his delicate hands. It made sense to just keep him out of it. It was killing you having to do this, but you knew that you just had to. So, without hesitating, you looked down when you felt your phone buzz in your hand again whilst Louis’ name flashed on your screen, then pressed Ignore.