like he can actually say that because he's a teapot how great is that

anonymous asked:

You know that "who you should fight" meme? Could you do a BSD version of it, if it's not too much to ask?

(Ngl this may be the best thing I’ve ever answered)



Atsushi: You win(?)

  • Walk right up to him and beat the ever-loving shit of him. He’ll apologize to you. An easy fight, just don’t slip in any tasteless orphan jokes, it’ll have the opposite effect intended and he’ll take you the fuck out with the pure intent to prove he’s worthy. You could beat him but the psychological weight of crushing someone so innocent will ensure that you never feel right again. Fight him if you have no soul.

Dazai: You lose

  • He’ll turn the whole affair into a big joke. If you, by some stroke of luck, actually hit him, he’ll probably just say ‘harder daddy’. The psychological effects of brawling Dazai will be devastating either way. DO. NOT.  FIGHT.

Ranpo: You win

  • Honestly, it’s hardly worth your time. He hasn’t eaten anything but chocolate cake and cheap lollipops for the last six years, not to mention any form of physical exercise. He’s got pale-ass noodle arms and a muffin top (don’t believe the official art’s lies. The bitch eats solely from a candy shop and looks like he just topped off a cycling session with Jillian Micheals? Get the fuck out). Just don’t bring a Jolly Rancher shiv because he’ll eat the damn thing. Undoubtedly fight, just be prepared to book it like a fucking librarian after you knock him out because the rest of the ADA will come after you.

Kyouka: Depends 

  • Look, fourteen’s a shitty age even when you’re not dealing with pressing morality crises.There is nothing Kyouka wants more in this world than to dial herself, let Demon Snow rip and raise her kill count to thirty seven. But all you gotta do to keep her at bay is debate on morality like Matthew fucking Murdock in Netflix’s Daredevil. If you can successfully hold her back with discussion on ethics (and how hers will be jack-shit if she slaughters you) you have a slim chance of victory. A great fight if you need to practice for speech class.

Kunikida: You lose

  • You might think victory’s as simple as tossing his notebook in a nearby water fountain and watching him flip a lid, but this is an absolutely awful tactic and the inside of your head will be decorating the sidewalk in mere milliseconds. He beats Dazai’s band-aid wrapped flanks on the daily and he won’t hesitate to destroy yours. If you fight, at least your cause of death can be listed as ‘blonde beefcake’s rippling biceps’.

Kenji: You win

  • Just feed him a few bowls of Spaghetti-o’s before you deck him and the little blonde bitch won’t stand a chance. You can smack him back into the cultist backwater rice paddies he crawled out of easy as smacking a crippled fly. A perfect fight for abusing a fourteen year old without getting into too much trouble. 

Fukuzawa: You lose

  • You might think you could dress up in a kitty costume and sneak up to him. And you could. It would be easy, in fact. He’s so focused on the cuteness he won’t notice any maliscious intent. Despite this his reflexes are simply too quick and he’ll still take you the fuck out when you make your move. A bad fight from all angles. You’ll have to fend off his adopted, dysfunctional ADA children too. Just don’t.


Akutagawa: Depends (99.5% losing chance. risky.)

  • Yeah, you’re fucked. Akutagawa won’t even wait until you initiate, he’ll be the one attacking you, probably over something minor and stupid like the color of your pants is personally offensive. Rashomon will be slicing and dicing you into a smoothie for cannibals before you know what hit you. The only way you make it out alive is if by some stroke of luck Dazai happens to be in a one hundred mile radius and Akutagawa’s senpai-radar starts going off. Fight only if you bring My Chemical Romance vinyls to punt at him; they’re his biggest weakness .

Chuuya: Depends (99.75% losing chance. Cross thy fingers and pray)

  • Facing Chuuya is a bigger risk than that board game. He’s practically impervious to all close-up melee and he’s too small of a target to be hit with anything from afar. You might think you’d have a fighting chance if you knocked his hat off; after all, that’s basically all he is. A hat rack prone to alcoholism. But that fury will only make him stronger and he’ll crush you like you’re a cum-covered Dazai body pillow. As with Akutagawa your only glimmer of hope for survival is if bandage-kun happens to be close by because Chuuya will prioritize and leave your now crippled ass in the dust that he punted you in. Only fight while intoxicated. (Both of you. Not just him. It’s more fun that way. Much like Turkish oil wrestling but with more gravity.)

Mori: You lose

  • If you want to fight him you’ve obviously got a death wish and I’m not going to stop you. There’s easier ways to go though, man. Easier ways. His expression won’t even change when he whips out that scalpel (I don’t believe that man’s ever been to medical school) and filets you like a fresh caught tuna, on its way to a B-rated fast food join. Your body’s gonna get left on the pavement for the stray dogs. (No, I’m not gonna finish that joke. Low hanging fruit. I have some dignity.) If you want to die that bad, just go see if Dazai will suicide with you. It’ll be significantly less painful

Elise: I fucking dare you

  • I mean, you probably could take her out, she’s like seven. Mori will let her play skip rope with your small intestine after she’s recovered. Rest In Peace if you even consider it.

Kouyou: You lose

  • I don’t know what would inspire you to be so stupid. She’ll just let out a dignified little chuckle and shove that umbrella sword so far up your ass you’ll be tasting acid rain for months, and she’ll do it all in the most ladylike way possible. Unless you’re ready for your innards to end up in a teapot, served with chocolate-coated orange wafers at tea break, just don’t fight.

Oda: ???

  • He’s fucking dead. What are you gonna do, kick his headstone, maybe plant some weeds over his grave? Just don’t mention the burnt orphan soup, or he’ll literally rise and put you in his coffin instead. If you’re willing to dabble into necromancy, knock yourself (or him, in this case) out.

Q: Haha

  • I get why you’d want to fight him, I really do. He looks like a miniature Cruella Deville on an acid trip. But you just don’t have a chance. Hit him. Go ahead. As soon as you so much as brush him he has the power to destroy your shit like it’s never been destroyed before. Will annihilate you from the inside out. The deadliest emo thirteen year old there’s ever been; avoid at all costs!!!

Higuchi: You LOSE

  • You might think you have a chance because she doesn’t have an ability. But you’re gravely mistaken. Higuchi is bitter. Higchi is ruthless. Higuchi does not give a fuck about anything other than getting Emotagawa-senpai to notice her. She has nothing, nothing to lose and she will not rest until she’s pulling your tonsils through your asshole in the hopes that Akutagawa will give her a thumbs-up for slaughtering you. DO NOT fight. She stands to lose nothing and gain everything.


Hawthorne: You lose

  • You might think that you’d have a fighting chance because he’s a priest and priest’s aren’t supposed to wreck people’s shit but he will see your sins and you won’t even see him coming. Try to punch him his ability is literally activated by injuries. Knocks you out with a psalter hymnal and ships you off to Bible camp while you’re unconscious.  Only fight if you have never sinned, not once, ever.

Steinbeck: Depends

  • If you’re from the city he’ll destroy you. Farm boys always tear apart city people no questions asked. If that fact doesn’t dissuade you then just prepare yourself not to be freaked the fuck out when he jack-knifes his own neck and starts sprouting flora. As long as you keep your cool you’ve got a 30/70 chance. Only fight if you bring a metric fucktonne of weed killer.

Poe: You win (biggest douchecanoe award, but that’s about it)

  • Physically, sure, you could sneeze within fifty feet of his pasty ass and take him down. But really? Do you really want to hurt him? He’ll stare right into your soul with those sad, sad eyes and wonder just what he did to inspire such bitterness in you. If you can still fuck him up after that then you’d best kiss your spirit goodbye because it’s descending to the seventh level of fiery hell as you read this. Plus, honestly, there’s no true triumph against a man whose best bud is a raccoon. That’s just too rad. If you can deal with the pressing moral consequences and a pissed off  raccoon, go for it. (You monster)

Mitchell: You win

  • All you have to do is push her hospital bed down the stairs and pretend it was an accident. Her comatose ass can’t do a thing to stop you. Fight if you’re ready to run from angry hospital staff.

Fitzgerald: You lose 

  • You know, this sentient sack of Benjamins deserves it, in all honesty, but don’t try. Him and his power suit will kick you into the next millennia before you can say ‘old sport’. Prepare to be crushed by capitalism.

Melville: You win

  • He’s like eighty and his ability’s a goddamn floating whale. As long as you don’t throw down at Sea World, you’re good. Fight as long as you’re not in front of an assisted living facility; the CNAs will think he’s a resident and defend him.

Lovecraft: Depends

  • Attack him while he’s trying to nap and he’ll be too lazy to get up. Otherwise… yeah, just google ‘Cthulhu’. You’ll get the idea. Don’t fight: there’s no beating weaponized tentacle porn.

Montgomery: You lose

  • Go right ahead and try, she’ll whisk you away to her Melanie-Martinez ass torture dimension and let Anne mop the floor with your teeth. It’s kind of like challenging God. Unless you want to spend eternity in an unsexy rip-off of the 50 shades Red Room, DO. NOT. ENGAGE.

Twain: You win

  • Twain’s all talk, anybody that walks around with their titties hanging out 24/7 is definitely trying to distract from something. In this case he’s trying to fool people into thinking he’s not a dictionary-definition pussy. Rip the heads off his muppet babies and he doesn’t even have an ability anymore, the schmuck. Fight when you’re looking for a quick self-esteem boost. 

Alcott: You win

  • This poor woman does not deserve to be tortured anymore than she already is by the weight of her own social awkwardness, but if you really insist: make a derogatory comment and she’s basically down for the count already, no physical contact necessary. If you really want to dominate, just steal her glasses and she instantly morphs into a significantly less foxy Velma Dinkley. Also significantly less prone to self defense. An A-1 fight for when you’re looking to cement residency in Hell.


Ango: Depends

  • You would think his beanpole ass would be an easy target. You’d be wrong, though. So very wrong. He’s been chugging tomato juice like it’s his job for the past forever and he’s got a snazzy pair of handcuffs he’s just dying to break out. If you sabotage basic safety features on his car, though, he’s a goner. Just sneakily unbuckle his seat belt while he’s driving and you’ve basically defeated him right then and there. A good fight for practicing strategic tactics and subtle vehicle vandalism.

Fyodor: You lose

  • Just ask A how that one turned out. Actually, ask anyone in the manga what throwing down with Fyodor entails. (Unless you only watch the anime, then just wait for the season three that we’re probably not getting) He’ll escort you personally to the gates of hell with a flick to your forehead. Then he’ll step right over your still-warm corpse and start playing the cello with that unnecessarily wide leg-spreadage. Mess with this sentient ushanka hat and he’ll uSHANKa you.
Two Steps - Part 8

Hey everyone!! So here is part 8! I really enjoyed you guys’ comments on part 7 :D Thanks so much for reading! I know I’ve been posting the previous parts in this one to reference to, but I’m in a bit of a hurry, so I’ll just tell you. The past part is set a few times after Rae and Finn first met and the present part is set the morning after the party. 

Thanks for reading!!

Part 8:

Feburary 10th, 2011

Keep reading

Seal (Taehyung x Reader), pt. 1

You seal Taehyung in a teapot and call it a Taepot.

Request: If you’re still taking requests, could you write a fake-dating scenario with Taehyung? :D

Part 2Part 3 ○ more magical BTS here

fluff, 5.1k words, reader/taehyung, demon au

You shove the key into the lock; pushing open the door to your family’s shop, you hear the soft chime of the silver bells attached to the door. You run the checks to make sure all of the shelves are stocked: herbs, books, potions. You frown upon noticing the bottled hellfire is running low. You jot yourself a reminder, sticking it to the counter.

Once you’re done with your checks, you go to smooth down the posters, faded from the light of the sun. You smile at the largest one, which reads, “A local family-run exorcism business since 1920!” in big bold letters. You run your fingers over the worn poster one more time before heading to the storage room. That’s where you know he is.

Carefully, you push open the thick metal door and peek inside.


Keep reading

do you have a pair of

Fluff Friday: January 27, 2017— Gas Station

The smol!Kakashi master post is here.

This is definitely not as fluffy as it should be if it’s for Fluff Friday, but *shrugs*. My angsty ninja babies usurped this month’s prompt. Which, admittedly, I’d already taken sideways because they don’t own cars. (Think “gas station” as a liminal space, a transient space, a space that does not exist when you do not occupy it, space from which you are either coming or going. Think also: a place to purchase a bad magazine and a bag of chips for the long highway that stretches out before you. Think: pause. Think: refuel. Think: this will not last forever.)

Hey~ @vesperlionheart and @thefreckledone. Thanks for running Fluff Fridays! (And thanks so much to @beyondthemoor for taking over for a while.) The work you do makes fandom a better place.

Summary: What do you do with peace when you’ve never actually had it? Sakura and Kakashi travel criss-crossing roads, searching for an answer to the ache in their bones, the emptiness in their lungs. (What do you do with peace? Dare to reach out with two hands and take it for your own, for as long as it lasts.)

Sakura salutes the nin watching her from the trees and trudges the last mile to the border-guard station. All she wants is a shower and a drink with an obscene alcohol percentage to wipe the memory of the past days from her mind.

Unfortunately, she can’t afford to forget what she has seen as she’s going to need to report on it.

The Great Elemental Nations are at peace, however uneasily, but that does not mean that there are enemies Konoha can afford to let slip back into the shadows to lick their wounds. Always, the Village must be watchful of the shadows.

They have learned that, if nothing else, from their many sins come home to roost.

Keep reading

What she says: I’m fine. 

What she means: I’m still not over how they treated Pam in The Office finale. Jim gets to thank the doc crew for giving him the ability to watch himself become a husband and a father. Pam says that she didn’t watch the whole documentary because it was “too painful” and talks about how “I spent so many years being less happy than I could have been. Jim was 5 feet from my desk and it took me four years to get to him.” She even says she would like if other people would learn from her own mistakes in not finding happiness earlier. 

I’m sorry, (and I love Jim and Pam together as much as anyone, maybe more) but can we talk about what actually happened here??? 

Jim and Pam had a mutual crush while she was engaged. The end of Season 2 is the first time that Jim says “I love you” and he’s kind of a jerk when she says “I can’t.” Instead of giving her space to process what he’s said, Jim then kisses her without permission and the next (day? week?) leaves town to work at a different branch. He is the one who starts dating Karen and then says that Karen should move to Scranton with him so they can continue to date even though he knows that Pam called off the wedding.   

Pam makes a move in asking Jim out for coffee after he moves back. She backs off when she finds out he’s dating Karen (it’s called being respectful) Pam dates Roy again but breaks up with him for attacking Jim right in front of her. Jim is really rude when Pam says she was stupid for dating Roy again “Yeah we’ll see.” He had just been attacked, but come on.

After the coal walk Pam gives a speech and tells Jim she called off wedding because of him but doesn’t try to break up him and Karen. She is the one who took that big leap to confess her feelings and unlike Jim she doesn’t immediately transfer to a new branch when he stays with Karen. 

So Jim leaves Karen for Pam and they are together in about one year from when Jim first said “I love you.” That’s not being stupid for four years. That’s relationships being messy and hard. 

Pam and Jim have a really solid relationship from first dating, through an unexpected pregnancy, getting married, and another kid. It’s not until Jim keeps taking a new job a secret from Pam that they start to waiver. Even then she supports him, and they both continue to make big romantic gestures for each other.

They’re ok until Pam lies about having trouble at home to protect Jim and Jim plans for them to move to Philadelphia without telling Pam. They both get worse at communication and start feeling overwhelmed (Like the writers were so aware of this that as the relationship gets rocky, the opening sequence shortens to just a kiss between Jim and Pam to reassure us that they’re going to be okay).

The miscommunication culminates when the sound guy mentions that Pam has been crying and Jim feels threatened. Pam is the one who says “I want you to stay and I want to fight” when Jim is just going to go back to Philly on Valentines day. She is the one who took that step towards saving their relationship. They go to counciling and even though Pam is really “blocked up” emotionally, Jim is able to reach through to her. He gives up his dream job for Pam. When she gets worried that he’ll resent her down the road for it, he doesn’t blame her or say she’s crazy.  He finds a way to show her that she means more to him than everything else with some help from the doc crew and the letter from the teapot he gave her before they even started dating (but, may I add, changed his mind about giving it to her back then. Something that might have brought them together sooner than the “four years” Pam took).

I guess the writer’s differed in opinion though, because the one that wrote the finale included questions at the documentary panel that completely blamed Pam for her reactions. “We’d all love to know, Pam, what romantic thing did you do to pay Jim back for leaving Athlead?” and  “Everyone watching sees how much you love each other and how you’re soul mates. So, Pam, how could you doubt that when Jim moved to Philadelphia?”

Jim takes some of the blame and is supportive, but it just feels like the writers want to play up him being the “nice guy.” Later in the finale we find out that Pam got an offer to sell the house as a surprise for Jim so that they can all move to Austin and he can work his dream job after all. It’s a great romantic gesture, but she certainly didn’t “owe” Jim anything and we didn’t need to have her attacked in the panel to believe that she just might be ready to move now when she wasn’t before.

Which brings me back to the ending comments and Pam being so hard on herself for something that she and Jim took equal steps backwards and towards throughout their years together. They could have kept the lines at the end without all the bullcrap about wasting time and being unable to see love right in front of her.  

“…it would just…just make my heart soar if someone out there saw this and she said to herself ‘be strong, trust yourself, love yourself. Conquer your fears. Just go after what you want and act fast, because life just isn’t that long.’”

This is exactly what Pam Beesly actually did. Pam is an important character to me. So I take this line and reject the rest.

A thought for a thought

Part 3

Continuation of this Modern AU I’ve been writing about Mor and Feyre being roommates. I really should think of a title for the whole damn thing but it’s more fun to just name the chapters.

Sorry this one took so long, I was really by these past few days. Buuuut to make up for it I will be posting the next part either later today or tomorrow!


Part 1, Part 2, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8Part 9.

Word Count: 1,551


I raised an eyebrow at Rhys, who had a bag of candy dangling from his fingertips.

He was back in his normal clothes. They were casual and comfy, thank god, but they still looked like him. Simple gray joggers that hugged his hips and showed off his powerful leg muscles and a black hoodie that had a white moon stamped onto the left side of the chest.

“It’s still Halloween,” he quips.

I roll my eyes, stepping aside to allow him inside. I had straightened up a little before I had gotten into the shower so our apartment didn’t look like a disaster.

I let the door fall shut behind me as I tip toe behind him, snag the chocolates from his hands and dash into the kitchen.

“Hey! We’re supposed to share those!” He whines, following me into the kitchen. I feel his eyes on me as I push myself up onto the counter—my feet dangling in front of the cabinets.

I smirk as I open the bag, popping one of the small chocolates into my mouth. My tongue breaks the delicate shell and caramel pours over my taste buds.

I smile, fighting back the urge to moan at the taste.

Rhys was frowning at me but male excitement shown in his eyes that made me want to squirm under his gaze. Reluctantly I hold the bag open for him. And he skipped, literally took two long strides that had him skipping towards the bag.

I bite my lip, holding back a laugh at such an elegant man skipping across my kitchen.

“What?” He asks, knowing I was assessing him for the move he just made across the floor.

“Nothing. With those moves I was just thinking you would be a great dance partner,” I tease.

He leans his hip against the counter, popping a chocolate into his mouth. Even while I was sitting, he was still slightly taller than I was. A blush rises to my cheeks as those eyes land on me.

“We never did get to dance together tonight,” he says, eyes steady on my own.

My shoulders rise and fall in a shrug. “I guess you owe me a dance then,” I say and nudge him as I go to hop off the counter.

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Yoongi Scenario: First Meeting - Part 5.

Request: Is it too much to ask for more of the WGM scenario with yoongi!??? IS JUST SO GOOD ❤️❤️❤️  If you’d like to continue the story, I’d be very very very happy to read~~ ^-^

Genre: Romance

Part 1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 6 / 7

Since the events of the last recording you felt that something had changed, you didn’t know exactly what but you could feel it, it was the way your body tensed up when he would get too close and the way your heart seemed to go crazy when his eyes focused on you for too long.

“This is a variety show”

You had to remind yourself that, you had to keep your mind under control.
But right now all that sounded in your head like pure wishful thinking, because how were you supposed to tell your mind to keep calm and be collected if Min Yoongi was holding you close to his body? His hands on your waist, his face painfully close to yours, this was too much.

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The First Time With Jeon Jungkook

Originally posted by bottomkookie

Genre: romance/fluff/love
Pairing: Jungkook/You
Length: 5398 words
Summary: This a series based on all of your first times with Jungkook from your childhood till when you both reach adult hood.





The first time he got kissed on the cheek

It was a new year and school started once again. Everyone was excited of going back to school. You may have played the entire summer with Jimin and Taehyung, but you were excited to get back to school. You’ve had many sleepovers and outings with the two boys meanwhile Jungkook wasn’t able to join you because of his trip in The U.S .His parents were business travelers so they had to go around the world quite frequently which caused you guys to be separated for the entire summer. You didn’t complain and played with Jimin and Taehyung, but you still missed the boy so badly.

Taehyung always tried his best to fill your best friend’s spot but it was no use, because no one could replace Jungkook in your heart. You missed playing with his hair and dressing him up with your girly clothes. You missed playing tag and holding hands while walking in the attraction park. You may have have been only 9 years old but Jungkook was your crime partner and your best ally. You still had lots of fun with Jimin and Taehyung, but every time you’d play or do something, it’d remind you momentarily of Jungkook who was far away from you. The boy sent you a few letters with his adventures and he always made sure he mentioned how much he missed you and the boys.

This time you were going to finally see him after 3 months because school was back and you were so excited. You invited Taehyung and Jimin over so that they can help you pick out your outfit for the first day of school. The boys were still boys and fashion was still far away in their brains.

Jimin playing a game on his nintendo console meanwhile Taehyung who was laying on your bed playing with all of your plushies. He was casually giving out tea to the dolls as talking to them as if they were his friends. He especially took a liking to Sailor Moon the blonde doll who was supposedly his girlfriend. It was a usual thing for him to get attached to inanimate objects

“There’s no more tea” Taehyung would pout as he’d reverse the teapot upside down to show there’s no tea left

“Tae, please.” Jimin would sigh before adding “There’s no tea in that teapot.”

“Stop breaking my dreams” Taehyung would hug the plushie tight in his arms

“Isn’t that Y/N’s Doll?” Jimin points at the sailor moon doll

“Don’t talk to my girlfriend Sailor moon” Taehyung holds the doll defensively

“Dude, you need to stop playing with dolls and plushies. We turned nine and Sailor moon is not your girlfriend” Jimin rolls his eyes

“Yes she is”

“No she’s not!!”

You suddenly got back to the room with your orange juice in a hand while you had a package in your other little arm. You were quite surprised to see Taehyung and Jimin arguing while you were away. Jimin doesn’t waste time to pause his game and go get the package from your arms. Even if he was a nine year old boy, he knew how to be a little gentlemen.His little gestures never failed to bring you a smile and a little sense of melancholy within you. His actions were getting similar to Jungkook’s. If Jungkook was there he’d actually try taking the box and the juice from your arms, because that’s how much he was concerned about you. You could say that Taehyung and Jimin did a great job at filling the empty spot of Jungkook in his absence but you’d still miss him dearly.

“I got this” Jimin grabs the box from you

“Thanks, chimchim” You smile before asking “But,What’s going on guys? I heard you fighting” you ask as you push the door

“ It’s just Taehyung who’s freaking out about your Sailor Moon doll” Jimin rolls his eyes “ I told him that we’re getting too old to play with these kinds of toys”

“Jungkook loved that doll too” You’d suddenly pout “I miss jungkook”

“Jungkook is not dead Y/N. He’s just in another country “Jimin ruffles your hair

“But still…” you feel the tears reaching up your eyes

“kookie said he’ll be back for school right?” Taehyung shots up from bed “Y/N, don’t be sad.We’ll reunite in three days” he pats your shoulder

“It would’ve been so much more fun if he was there for the summer” You play with your fingers

“Why do I feel offended now” Jimin pouts “My heart aches for some reason…”

“Face it, Jimin-ah. We can’t replace the spot of her best friend” Taehyung sighed “Y/N, come here” he opens his arms

You sniff and wipe off your salty tears before getting in Taehyung’s tiny embrace. Taehyung would play with your hair as you’d hug him back tightly. The boy knew his ways to comfort you. He may have been the most childish out of the three boys, but he was the one who knew how to bring back a smile onto anyone’s face. Taehyung didn’t like to see his friends in tears and he’d do whatever it’d take to wipe off the tears on your face.

“Wooahhh…Y/N!!!” Taehyung suddenly exclaims “Did you change your shampoo?! It smells like strawberries!!!”

“Yeah, my mom changed it up” You chuckle as you separate yourself from his hug

“I need to get the same shampoo!!” Taehyung jumps on his toes

“Of course he’d say something like that” jimin replies “Stop sniffing Y/N and playing with her dolls.”

“Why would I do that?! I have the right to do whatever I want!” Taehyung argues

“Why do you constantly copy Y/N!!!? You always ask to get the same thing as her whenever we order food. You always ask her where she buy her toys and now you even want the same shampoo” Jimin replies

“Don’t be harsh on Taetae” you touch jimin’s shoulder “He just happens to like the same things as me. It’s okay!! Do you want to me to share with you too?” you ask jimin

“Forget it” Jimin rolls his eyes

“Are you jealous or something?” Taehyung pulls his tongue out

“So what if I am?! You never play with me!!!Ever since Jungkook left for the states, you only have eyes for Y/N!!”

“Y-You wanted to play with me? “ Taehyung would blink

“WHY ARE YOU SO DUMB” Jimin would sigh “YES I WANTED TO PLAY WITH YOU. It’s been a while since we played fight. Playing with Y/N is cool, but I miss playing just with the boys!I miss playing with you and jungkook…”

It has been indeed a while since the boys got quality time together. Whenever they met up, you were there and they didn’t want to sound too aggressive by playing fight when you were with them. They knew that you were still broken over how Jungkook left for the summer and they wanted to treat you with delicacy for the time being,which resulted with Taehyung giving a 100% of his attention to you and not to jimin. They knew you were fragile and on the verge of tears every time jungkook was mentioned in a sentence.

“Oh…so that was the problem” your eyes rounded “I’m sorry if you felt that way, Chimchim” You pat his shoulder “I just happen to be a cry baby, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to take Taehyung away from you”

“Don’t blame yourself Y/N” Jimin holds onto your hand “This is not your fault”

“But you were so mean with me” Taehyung pouts

“That’s because you’re my friend” Jimin would comment awkwardly

“Group hug!” you open your arms

You hug both of them while ruffling their silky hair.

“Now that the fight is solved. Can you guys help me pick out an outfit for the first day of school?” You said with excitement in your eyes

That’s how you were now digging through the package that had all the clothing items you bought with your mother a few days before.You didn’t seem satisfied at all for some reason.You wanted to look memorable for that day.Jungkook was going to be there and it was going to be your first day of school too.

“ Do you like Sailor Moon that much?” Jimin chuckles as he stares at Taehyung who’s hugging firmly the blonde doll

“You guys may not know it, but Jungkook has a secret crush on Sailormoon” you giggled

“Really?! Taetae, Jungkook would kill you if he was there. Sailormoon is his girlfriend not yours” Jimin remarks “You know how possessive he gets with the things he likes”

“I had a date with her already so she’s mine!!”Taehyung retorts “Jungkook never put dabs on her, so I took her”

“But she’s sixteen! How can you expect to date a girl that is sixteen when you’re nine years old?” Jimin tilted his head to the side

“Just wait till she come out of the tv” Taehyung nods

“She can’t come out of tv Taehyung-ah. She’s a fictional character.” Jimin pokes Taehyung

“She’s so pretty though” Taehyung smiles like a fool

After digging through your clothes you find this one pink dress that looked quite cute.

“What do you think of this pink dress?” You ask Taehyung

“Hmmm…Don’t you have something shinier?” Taehyung blinks “With lots of glitter!”

“I don’t think so” you reply while digging through your closet

“This guy just likes glitters, don’t pay attention to him.” Jimin sighs “Why would you want to wear a dress though? I always wear pants and it’s comfortable.”

“I want to look special! It’s the first day of school!” You reply

“Pants won’t make you special?” Jimin tilts his head to the side

“I don’t feel like wearing pants” you frown

“Sorry, I’m just not familiar with the whole skirt and dresses thing!” Jimin scratches the back of his head “I like skirts and dresses too though! I just thought that girls would wear them for special occasions”

“I just want to look special” you comment

“ I want to look special too though…” Taehyung comments

“We’re still kids, you don’t need to worry about these kind of things” Jimin nudged you

“I still want to look pretty” You argue

“YEAH. LET HER BE. SHE WANTS TO LOOK PRETTY!” Taehyung takes your side

“Oh …I think I get it” Jimin gives you a sneaky glance “Is it because Jungkook is going to show up that day?”

“I-I…n-no!” you stutter and shake your head in denial

“It’s a hundred percent for him” Jimin chuckles “Why would you dress up for Jungkook though?” He blinks “Do you like him or something?”

Jimin was getting sneakier as he grew up and that part of him was making you slightly embarrassed and enraged for some reason. He knew how to get on your nerves and pick a fight.You liked jungkook and that was a fact. He was your closest friend. What was there to not like about him?! He was charming with a breathtaking smile and gorgeous hair. He was a boy that prioritized you over his other friends. A boy that treated you like a rose and not like another guy friend.

“NOOO!!!!” You shout as you feel your cheeks heat up

“Then why do you want to dress up?”

“She likes dressing up! What’s so wrong about that?!” Taehyung takes your side

“It’s the first day of school and Jungkook is coming back from his long trip! I just asked for help to pick an outfit! Why are you always digging through weird stuff?” You frown at jimin

“I don’t know, but my mom told me that girls like to dress up to impress the guy they like” Jimin giggles

“That’s NOT TRUE” you reply

“Are you saying that you don’t like jungkook?” Taehyung blinks innocently “Jungkook would feel so sad and disappointed if he heard this” Taehyung pouts

“Jungkook is my best friend. Of course I like him” you stare back at Taehyung

“Then you like him.”Jimin concludes “Okay then that’s all good. I got the information I needed “he smirks

You felt like hitting Jimin for some reason but you chose to shrug it off for the sake of Jungkook. After all, the boy was coming back in three days and you were so excited. It was a very fun after noon where you got to pick an outfit and have a cool sleepover with Taehyung and Jimin.As you went to bed you couldn’t help but feel like you weren’t going to be able to sleep.You were so excited to see Jungkook again that you wouldn’t wait for the day you’d meet him again.

The day

It was finally the day you waited for the entire summer. Jungkook just got off the plane the day before at night and he was now going to meet you up at school. Little Jungkook who was still jet lagged and couldn’t walk in a straight line. The boy was tired but knowing that he’ll be able to see you was enough for him to feel energized.

“You need to sleep more jungkook-ah” his mom would try putting him to sleep

“I’ll really get to see Y/N, tomorrow?” He’d ask for the hundredth time

“I already said yes” His mother would sigh before ruffling his hair “You must really like her a lot. You talked about her the entire summer”

“She’s my first friend” Jungkook replies shyly

“Oh really? I thought Taehyungie was your first friend” his mom smiles softly

“Y/N is the first girl I became friends with, so she’s special” Jungkook grins

“Then she must have a really special place in your heart, huh?” His mother taps his nose

“Yes she does” Jungkook nods

It may have seemed like you’re the only one who missed him for the entire summer, but it was definitely not true. You had Taehyung and Jimin by your side, but for Jungkook it was another story. He was all alone and he couldn’t even understand English which made it ten times worse. He may have spent more time with his parents, but he would pout whenever they’d reach a fun place. He wanted to show you all of these amazing places, but he was so powerless. What could a nine year old boy do?

The night went by quickly and it was finally morning. You could say that he dressed his best for that first day of school. He was going to impress many girls and break many little hearts with that attire he got from the U.S. Jungkook was now back from Boston and he learned a few little words in English. His skin was slightly tanned and his black hair was still silkier than ever. He stayed the same and his bunny teeth were still there. He didn’t change, he was still your best friend.

Jungkook’s mom dropped him off at the gates and the boy sighed while drinking on apple juice. He may have been wearing pricey clothing items as he went to many events the entire summer but he still missed his friends. He kicked the ground with his little nike sports shoes while pressing his back on the bricked wall. He adjusted his Yankees baseball jacket while ruffling his hair a few times. Jungkook was indeed lonely and his behavior was showing how much he yearn for a friend to give him a hug.

“JUNGKOOK-AH!!!!”  Your little voice shouted

It wasn’t long before jungkook’s smile that disappeared for the entire summer was finally back on his face. He could recognize you right away from the ruffles of that pink dress you loved so much. Jimin and Taehyung were both on each side of you walking to him meanwhile you were running to Jungkook. His apple juice was now dropped on the ground and he was running to your direction too.

“I missed you SO SO SO MUCH!!!” you sling your slim arms around his little neck

Jungkook smells like vanilla for some reason and you can recognize his non-usual scent.He changed up his shampoo and even his clothing style. Even if the boy was physically different, he still looked like your best friend and you were thankful that he stayed the same

“Y/N!!! I MISSED YOU EVEN MORE” Jungkook pulled you in his little embrace and got all confused to notice how you didn’t fit that well in his embrace anymore.

Wait, there’s something different about her, Jungkook would ponder in his head

“One second “He’d pull away from you to stare at you for two seconds and analyze what was this situation

“W-What’s wrong?” you panic momentarily for two seconds

What if he didn’t like you anymore? What he was going to push you away? What if he found a better friend in the states? It was a mental break down for you and you could feel that little panic arise through you.

“ It’s just that…something changed “ He stares at you from head to toe before coming to the realization “Whoa, you actually got taller” He’d blink at you

“Oh god. I thought you were going to tell me you didn’t want to be my friend or something “You held on your chest

“Do I seem that much like a jerk?” Jungkook nudged you “I’d never do that…but I can’t get it. You grew so tall. You reached me now” he’d compare his height to yours

“Yeah, I’ve been told many times” You giggle “My mom said I grew 2 inches taller”

A lot happened in the summer, such as you growing a few inches taller and reaching up jungkook’s height quite fastly. The boy was in awe at how you grew up so fastly during the summer, but he still was stuck with the same height. Meanwhile Jimin was struggling to grow taller and Taehyung didn’t even understand what was that fuss about getting taller.

“I wish I could grow taller too” Jungkook kicks the ground with a slight pout

“My mom said that girls usually grow taller before boys” you reply

“Is that so?” Jungkook plays with his hair “When will it be my turn…” he’d sigh

“Don’t make that face jungkook! Do you know how much I missed you?!!” you grab his hand in yours and Jungkook feels flustered for some reason

“O-Oh, I missed you too” jungkook would suddenly turn shy

“Let me cry a river now” Jimin wiped off his fake tears

“I missed jungkook too” Taehyung comments before tears reach up his eyes

“It’s only been three months. Come on Tae, be a man!” jimin nudges Taehyung’s shoulder

“Jungkook-ah” Taehyung opened his arms to welcome jungkook

“TaeTae” Jungkook smiled as he hugged Taehyung back “Everything was cool while I was away?”

“Tell me about it. Y/N was a mess” Taehyung whispers to jungkook

“Y/N was a mess?” Jungkook’s eyes rounded as he turned to look at you

“TAEHYUNG that’s so rude” You frown at taehyung  in embarrassment

“She’d talk about you every day. Promise me you won’t fly away next summer, cause’ I need some mental support too” Taehyung fakes a sob

“Why are you saying that!” you hit taehyung’s arm as you furrow your brows

“Really?” Jungkook chuckles before nudging you with a playful smile “I actually did the same” he’d feel heat creep up his cheeks “I missed her more than what I thought…”

“Jungkook understands” you smile as you grab his hand once again “Please don’t ever go away, It felt lonely without you” you pout at jungkook

“To that extent?” Jungkook chuckles before putting his tiny arm around your shoulder

“I feel very offended now” Jimin glares at you “I thought we were your friends too”

“I’m sorry for making you feel that way” you bite on your bottom lip

“Come on Jimin, don’t be like that. You know that her best friend is jungkook” Taehyung nudges jimin “We can’t take his place”

“Are you guys okay?” Jungkook furrow his brows at this awkward tension between jimin and Taehyung

“I was just kidding ! Take a joke!” jimin chuckles

“Taehyung and Jimin only fought the entire summer” You sighed

“Why would you tell him such a useless detail?” Jimin frowned “Plus, I didn’t even got to welcome back jungkook.”

“That’s because you keep on wanting to be cool. You said that cool guys don’t hug each other” Taehyung mimicked Jimin and you laughed

“I’ll show you how to welcome back a friend while staying cool “Jimin bragged before coming up to jungkook “What’s up bro” Jimin bro fisted jungkook

“Jimin-ah” Jungkook grins “It’s been a while! You became a little chubby around the cheeks” Jungkook giggles before pulling on jimin’s cheeks

“I’ve been eating and drinking lots of milk! You see, I want to grow tall” Jimin replies proudly

“ I’ve been trying to do that too, but it just doesn’t seem to work” Jungkook pouts

“Tell me about it, Y/N what do you eat to grow so fastly?!” Jimin kicks the ground

“You’ll tell me right?” Jungkook whisper in your ears as you chuckle  “Forget about jimin and tell me!!”

“RUDE” Jimin scoffs “Y/N will tell me first!” jimin pulls your arm “I may love you jungkook-ah, but I was the one who played with Y/N for the entire summer”

“No way, Y/N is my best friend.” Jungkook frowns “I’m keeping her.”

“No need to fight. She already gave me the secret” Taehyung replies in a very Zen tone

“You told him?” Jungkook feels a little disappointed to know that you already shared a secret with Taehyung

“Come Taetae, Tell them” you nudge Taehyung

“She said something about eating vegetables” Taehyung sighs “I hate vegetables though…”

“ Come TaeTae, don’t be picky” you ruffle his hair

After getting in class for a few hours it was finally lunch and you had planned to eat with your friends at that little picnic table.You made sure to not leave jungkook’s sight for even a second.The boy would have to ask you to let him go so that he does his business in the bathroom. That’s how much you missed him and you were going to make sure he spends the entire day with you no matter what.

“Did you learn any  english words while going to the states, jungkook?” You ask jungkook as you both sit on the table

“True, you must have learned a few words didn’t you?” Jimin nods while staring at his friend

“ Ugh…yeah” Jungkook replies awkwardly

“ I know this face a bit too well. It means he did not learn anything” Taehyung giggles

“No! I did learn some…some words” Jungkook scratches the back of his head in embarssament

“Like what?” Jimin blinks

Pardon” Jungkook would suddenly say

Pardon? What is that?” You chuckle “It sounds kind of funny!”

“It means sorry” Jimin comments “You definitely need more English training, my friend” jimin pats jungkook’s shoulder

“Ugh, leave me alone. I left for vacation not for school” Jungkook would pout

“It’s okay jungkook-ah, we’re all black holes when it comes to speak English anyways” Taehyung laughs

“What did you guys do during the time I was away though?” Jungkook asked

“We played tag and we tried teaching Y/N how to swim but…”Jimin would sigh “ Y/N does not want to get in the water”

“Why?” Jungkook would blink at you

“She’s afraid of water or something! I swear she refuses to get deeper and learn to swim. She’s freaking out whenever the water reaches her knees” jimin comments

“Oh, If I’d knew, I would’ve helped you out… but I wasn’t even there” Jungkook pouts

“No need Jungkook-ah! I don’t need to know how to swim” you play with his hair

“ She said you’d be there for her forever” Taehyung giggles and you feel your cheeks blush

“Oh really?” jungkook raises a brow

“Will you be there for me forever jungkook-ah?” Taehyung puckered his lips

“I think you can take care of your own self” Jungkook cringes his face at taehyung

“Unfair treatement” Taehyung pouts “PLEASE LOVE ME”

“In your dreams” jungkook laughs “what else did you guys do?”

“Well, I also got a new girlfriend” Taehyung adds

“A new Girlfriend?” Jungkook’s eyes rounded

“He stole Sailor Moon away from you Jungkook.” Jimin suddenly commented

“HEY! I LIKED SAILOR MOON BEFORE YOU!” jungkook frowns at Taehyung

“I just thought she was beautiful. Why can’t I like her too? I even had a date with her” Taehyung brags

“I’m not fighting over a girl” Jungkook sighs in defeat “You can take her, I’ll find a real girlfriend when I grow up”

“You said it! Sailor moon is mine then!!” Taehyung replies

“Yeah you can take her. She’s an anime character” Jungkook smirks

“Sailor Moon is still pretty gorgeous. Will we find girls like her when we grow up?” Jimin asks

“OF course!” You smiled at Jimin “I can tell that you’ll find a beautiful wife Jimin-ah”

“I’ve been searching for a wife since kindergarten. Why are they so hard to get?” jimin pouts

“We are kids Jimin-ah, think about finding a wife later please” Jungkook sighs “can’t we just play tag instead? I hate kisses and lovey dovey things” he cringes his face

“They always say that, but he’ll eventually be the first to get kissed in the end” Jimin giggles

You opened your lunch box and the boys did the same .You laughed the second you saw Taehyung cringing his face at the contents of his lunch box.

“Guys, my mom only packed me vegetables for lunch” Taehyung sighs “I hate carrots!”

“Give them to Jungkook, I’m sure he should love them.” Jimin relpies

“Why me?! I don’t like it either!” jungkook pouts

“I thought bunnies ate carrots though, why are you an exception to the rule?” Jimin taps on his chin

“Probably because I’m not an actual bunny” Jungkook rolls his eyes

“You can give them to me” You pat Taehyung’s arm “I like carrots. Do you want to share lunch with me then?” you offer

“Do you have anything like banana milk or something?” Taehyung asks

“I have banana yogurt” You reply

“For sure, I’d take that” Taehyung smiles

You’d eat lunch and it wasn’t long before you felt a little hand creep up your braid and you jumped in fright. You turn around to look at jungkook who was trying to touch your hair god only knows why.

“Y-You scared me!” you put a hand over your heart

“Can I touch your hair?” Jungkook would look at your hair in fascination

“Why?” you ask

“It just looks different and I wonder how it must feel like” he blinks

“My mom braided my hair this morning” You smile

“Exactly, I never saw this in my entire life” Jungkook comments “You call this a braid?”

“You’re so silly Jungkookie” you chuckle

“That’s because he avoids girls way too much” Jimin shows up

“I don’t avoid girls!” Jungkook frowns

“Oh please, Kookie. You really need to start playing with the other girls! They won’t bite you! In fact they’re all nice” Jimin nods

“Just leave him alone” You reply to jimin

“Is Jungkook aware that you like him?” Jimin suddenly spits out

“Yah, why would you bring such a weird topic while I’m enjoying my banana yogurt!” Taehyung nudges jimin “Let them be and let me eat my food in peace”

“ Y-Y/N likes me?” Jungkook blinks at this random information

He knew that you were very straightforward with the things you liked from the moment you hugged him in kindergarten and told him you loved him. It was probably just the way you were and he didn’t had to feel that concerned, but he couldn’t help but feel shy for some reason.

“Of course she does. I like you too jungkook-ah” Taehyung eats a spoonful of his yogurt

“Not that kind of like” Jimin rolls his eyes “You know, she likes you”

“Stop saying weird things Park Jimin. Seriously, why are you like this?” you hit his arm

“ I’m just stating what I heard from her a few days ago” Jimin lifts his hand in defense “ It’s up to you to define what liking you means”

“I like him because he’s my best friend!” you reply in defense

“I like her too though. Why would this be a problem?” Jungkook raises a brow

“I don’t know, you guys deal with yourselves. I’m just saying” Jimin keeps on eating his lunch

Jungkook chooses to ignore his friend and focus on you instead. Something caught your attention for now and it was jungkook’s attire. He was dressed differently and his clothes looked more amazing than the usual. You were fascinated by the leather on his jacket as you run your tiny fingers over the fabric.

“What is this? It’s so cool” You pat the fabric

“Do you like it?” Jungkook gives you a little smug look

“Whoa look at him bragging in front of us” jimin would gossip to taehyung

“Let him be, he can brag all he wants. He still had to travel the entire summer, while we played tag for three months” Taehyung sighs “why are my parents so poor?”

“Whoa!! I really love your new jacket!” you reply

“My mom bought it for me when we were in Boston” he grins shyly “I actually brought a present for you.” Jungkook smiles

“For me?!” you exclaim

“Of course he did” Jimin sighed

“Why are you acting like a jealous girlfriend jimin, get over yourself” Taehyung chuckles

Jimin was at that age where he wanted people to pay him more attention and the fact that jungkook just came back from a trip and took all the attention made him feel like he was left out. It was an unavoidable behavior that kids of his age would have. Jungkook and Taehyung would be bond to go through this too, but for now, it was only Jimin who was struggling and wanting all the attention.

Jungkook on his side unzipped his new backpack and took out a little pink box.Your eyes got sparkly at the sight of that little box. You knew that Jungkook never forgot about you and he even brought you a gift before coming back from his trip.If truth was to be said, the boy thought about what to give you for the entire summer and he finally figured it out 2 days before coming back. He wanted this gift to be meaningful for both of you.He wanted to give you a gift that you’d remember even after you both grow up and turn into adults.

“It’s really for me?” you blink in awe at the pink little box

“Yes, it’s just for you” Jungkook hands it to you before that blush crept up his cheeks “I don’t know if you’ll like it or not though…”

You didn’t waste time and opened the little box. Your lips curved into a smile as you saw what was inside the tiny box. It was a pink Bowtie and jungkook still remembered that you loved bows so much. You were so happy at the sight of that glittering hair accessory meanwhile jungkook was getting more embarrassed as the seconds passed by.

“ I thought that since you lent me your hair clip when we were five, I should give you something in return…” he’d ruffle his hair very awkwardly

“Thank you so much Jungkook-ah!” You reply “I’ll cherish it forever” you hugged the bowtie on your chest

“I’m happy you like it” Jungkook blushes

“I love you so much, jungkook-ah! You’re the best friend ever!!” you sling your tiny arms around his neck and press your child lips on his rosy baby cheek

Jungkook is under a mental shock he cannot seem to find himself moving from the position he’s in. He just got kissed on the cheek by a girl and this girl happened to be you. Jungkook the boy who despised kisses and things that involved his cheeks was now blushing and embarrassed while holding onto his cheek. It was his first kiss on the cheek and he was going to remember it for the rest of his life. He was going to remember that it was you who gave it to him. The first girl that gave him a kiss. His one and only Best Friend.He was going to remember that moment even in the after life,because that was how important you were for him.



i wrote a ficlet.

edit: now on Ao3

AU - EVERYONE LIVES/NOBODY DIES. 6 YEARS POST-BOTFA. Bilbo isn’t the Consort (he visits Erebor every-other-winter) and he and Thorin have not been together romantically because they’re IDIOTS. let’s see if they can figure their shit out. this scene takes place right after what is basically the council of Elrond, only it happened at Erebor. Bilbo has volunteered to be the Ringbearer, the council approved ofc, and Thorin pledged his sword and service to Bilbo (assume whatever else you want about the other members of the fellowship). also, who knows why the events of LOTR are accelerated in this universe, because this shit shouldn’t be happening yet with the ring, BUT IT IS. OKAY HERE WE GO.

Keep reading

The Wanderer’s Luck

Summary: The ladies of FT stage an intervention for Lucy’s love life (Nalu from Lisanna’s P.O.V, basically). 

Absence makes the heart grow fonder, or does it…

“Lisanna.” Mirajane touched her younger sister’s arm affectionately. “What are you daydreaming about?” She had been staring into the pot of rose tea she was brewing with a glazed expression.

“Nothing, Mira-nee,” she assured immediately. “I just got distracted.” She quickly placed the teapot and eight delicately painted cups onto her tray.

A rare, devious smirk adorned Mira’s angelic features. “Don’t tell me you’re in love.”

“Not you too,” Cana complained from where she sat crosslegged on the couch, guzzling down a bottle of whiskey. “One intervention per day is enough.”

“Yes. Juvia does not need any more love rivals,” the water mage chimed in.

At this, Levy smiled awkwardly. “Juvia, I don’t think you understand the situation. This is about Lu-chan and Natsu.”

Since the guild was revived, there seemed to be something wrong between them. They still went through the motions of being partners and best friends, but the tension between them was nearly a tangible thing. They didn’t stand as close to each other anymore. When he gave his pep-talks about bonds and family, there was always a hesitation, a pregnant pause before she smiled. And even when she did, it never quite reached her eyes.

“I personally think they should just fuck and get over it,” Cana chimed in. “But no one listens to onesan.”

Juvia nodded her agreement as Mira and Lisanna brought in the tea and cookies. “Love rival must realize how much Natsu loves her so she’ll remove her sights from Gray-sama.”

“I think Natsu-san mainly brought the guild back together, but she’s still very angry with him,” Wendy weighed in, feeling very much like a child intruding upon an adult conversation.

“As she should be,” Carla said haughtily. “A year is a very long time to leave someone important to you all alone. And with minimal notice, at that.”

“I can’t say I disagree.” Lisanna sighed wistfully, glancing out of the window. She supposed two years was even longer.

Besides those twenty-four months, seven hundred thirty days, or seventeen thousand five hundred and twenty hours, how much time did that anima really steal from her? How much of her future?

“Juvia doesn’t see what the big deal is,” the water mage lamented. “He apologized, right? If the flames of passion still burn, rival should just forgive him. Juvia forgave Gray-sama.”

“He didn’t apologize to her, Juvia,” Mirajane explained. “That’s why she’s upset.”

“Unforgivable,” Erza decided. A frightening and punitive aura wafted from the armor clad wizard.

“What is?” Lucy asked as she came in, finally back from her latest solo mission. “Besides all of you being in my room.”

The mages all glanced around uncomfortably. “Lu-chan, take a seat,” Levy finally said.

“Okay.” She perched herself on the arm of the couch. “I just hope this isn’t about-”

“It is,” Cana said without preamble. “Natsu is stupid, and prideful so the passive-aggressive shit really isn’t gonna work. The way we see it, you have three options.”

“You could talk to him,” Mirajane offered with a smile.

“Tried that. Several times.”

The Sorcerer model was unfazed. “What if we tie him up first?”

“Next idea.”

“You can administer divine punishment,” Erza cracked her knuckles menacingly as she said this. “I can show you a few methods that are rather effective.”

“Tempting,” the celestial spirit mage admitted. However, she doubted that it would actually solve the problem between them.

“Or,” Lisanna started, “you can get even.” She pulled a small envelope out of her purse and held it out to Lucy.

Dear Natsu, 
I am leaving on a journey to train under a great celestial spirit mage. I will be back in about eight months. Please watch over everyone while I’m gone.


“Leave this in his bedroom and then go on a job,” the take over mage prescribed. “He’ll flip. And then he’ll probably get it.”

“You’re a genius, Lisanna!” Lucy declared.

Lisanna shook her head. “I just know how his mind works.” Nearly a decade of friendship and casual pining was known to do that to a person. She had long since mapped out his every idiosyncratic defense mechanism. It was how she knew her time with him had passed. There was no way they could just restart after he spent two years trying to let her go, flinching at even the mention of her name.

“Thank you so much.”

Then the pale haired girl gave a genuine smile. “If that doesn’t work I have another plan.”

Lucky Lucy in the right place at the right time had caught his wandering heart without even trying. And while another type of girl might have resented her, Lisanna was truly glad she met him. Because two years were longer than one, and aphorisms were to be applied to lives on a case by case basis.

Notes: So I originally wanted to post this for day one of Nalu week, but it became way too Lisanna-centric so I decided to wait. Thanks for reading, everyone! 

Okay, weirdly enough, this is going to be one of my submissions that’s NOT a contribution from the headcanon hamsters of doom.

So earlier, there was a rather extensive submission post from @nellynee that went on extensively about clan mentality and Kishimoto’s choices. Most of which, I agreed with. Actually, I agreed with quite a bit of their analysis about the characters, and it was pretty great and well put together. By this point, you know me; slavery, brandings, spiritual wars, and truces, etecera. I am all for the dark stuff.

But…how do I put it? Some wording could be better? Because I’m sure they didn’t mean for it to be quite as disrespectful or insulting as it came off.

Cause…here’s the thing. Naruto is still a Japanese manga. There is A LOT of Asian culture that underlies the general interaction. Including the cultural aspects involved in home life. The “first, second, third tier” clans described as crazy and insane? Yeah, that’s still actually a thing. A lot of those expectations and pressures described? Yeah, that may seem crazy from a Western perspective, but that’s a pretty regular standard in Eastern culture.

First off, throw out that 1st and 2nd tier business. All that mindset in general? It shows to different degrees due to social pressures, but it all comes down to the same mindset. There is no actual separation. It’s all from the same culture. Frankly, it has very little to do with politics.

Okay so really starting off: I’m going to go into the importance of names. Names are a very big thing in Eastern culture. The family name is almost an entity of its own because it is meant to outlast any one individual and you should be able to trace your family throughout time and places. And I’m pretty sure this isn’t just an Eastern thing, I have Irish friends with extensively recorded family trees. Anyways, the family name you have (the paternal one usually) is the family you truly belong to. For a personal example, among my many cousins on my paternal side, my brother, my oldest cousin, and I were especially precious to my paternal grandparents. Why? Because while my cousins carried their father’s family name, we carried the last name of Lei (or “thunder”). This means it is my brother and my oldest cousin’s responsibility to carry on the family name. It’s why I was particularly fawned on as a child because I was technically the only Lei daughter, and that meant I also inherited certain things (like a teapot that’s passed down among the women in my family, or I would have if a Christian missionary a while back didn’t smash it because he mistook ancestor worship for idol worship). Additionally, it’s why so many people in China preferred having a son when the one-child policy was in place, because the son is the one that would carry on said family name. With your family name, you carry certain responsibilities, expectations, and your heritage with you.

And as nellynee empathetically pointed out, one of those responsibilities is the expectation to procreate. Yes, one of those responsibilities as a member of the family is to make sure the line doesn’t end with you. I’m starting to realize that some people don’t seem to get there is a certain weight that comes with being “the Last Uchiha” or “the Last Uzumaki”. Being the last of your line, especially if you’re from a rather powerful or renowned family, is bad bad thing. For many reasons, it can be drawn back to the fact that ancestor worship is a thing. The death of a line means the death of the family’s history, the stories, the family’s heritage, and the family’s very memory. It means nobody will be left to clean the graves or share food with the dead or a thousand other things. A lot of Eastern culture in general puts a lot of emphasis on “you can die twice; when you stop breathing and the last time someone says your name”.

Here’s another thing. If you haven’t noticed, I keep saying “family” rather than “clan”. That is because this is a cultural and societal thing. There is no “normal”, most families have this mindset. Most cultures have this mindset. Yes, Sasuke would have been conditioned as a child in “clan mentality” and the responsibilities and expectations they had of him. But “clan mentality” and Itachi’s struggle between clan and the village is actually representative of the cultural struggle within a lot of Asian countries with the arrival of Communism. Traditionally, Confucianism and other similar philosophies established social value on family. That is to say, you owe your family everything and are representative of them. When a child goes out into the world, they represent the family. How they behave reflects on how the family and their parents raised them. If one individual does wrong, then either their parents taught them wrong or that the whole family is in on the misdeed. Unfortunately, such views have lead to things such as North Korea’s Three Generation of Punishment policy. With the arrival of Communism, the government declared that each individual owed their loyalty foremost to the country (cought theCommunistParty cough let’snotkidourselves). Point is, despite Communist influence, the root of “clan mentality” and that “family comes first” is still a pretty prominent part of Eastern culture.

So now back to nellynee’s analysis (@nellynee). First off, step off the word “force”. Just because it’s not the culture you’re use to, doesn’t mean you can make it sound as barbaric as you do. There is pressure, yes. But as you yourself pointed out, it tends to be from family more than society as a whole. Society doesn’t care if your line dies out. In fact, this means a rising family could possibly pump you off the social ladder and take your place (Uchiha-Hyuuga rivalry).

You noted that our culture “forces” us to procreate. All cultures and families and societies set certain expectations for individuals. This is one of them. It’s not the same as yours, but it doesn’t mean it’s crazy or insane. Yes, Sasuke would have felt the pressure. He was conditioned since he was little with the expectation that “one day you will have a family of your own and a child you will pass on all your knowledge to”. Which, well heeelloooo there, MOST CULTURES EXPECT THIS OF AN INDIVIDUAL. So Sasuke being “forced by his culture”? Yeah, there would definitely be pressure, but I think you discount things like the typically very short shinobi life expectations. Shorter life expectancies typically mean you have babies sooner.

Secondly, “Non Clan kids are as normal and socialized as they come”…what does that even mean?! Nobody in this manga/show is “normal” or “socialized”. I can guarantee to you that those non-clan kids? They will still be expected to have a family, to pass on their family name, to pass on the family stories and traditions, and to have children. Frankly, it’s just that they are in a clan-like family, rather than a family-like clan. Prestige and size are what makes a family a clan. They are no different from the clan kids, except that since they lack the prominence, they don’t get as much pressure to bring in the “right kind” of person into the family when they get married. They won’t get the same amount of pressure of raising a child can proudly represent the whole family. Which is to say, they still will, but since the family isn’t as big as a clan you get less aunts and uncles and cousins telling you all the ways you’re raising your child wrong.

Why does the Sasuke feel the pressure? Because he’s the last fucking Uchiha. His entire line, his entire family, might as well die with him if he doesn’t have a descendant of some sort. Why don’t the Inuzuka, the Aburame, or any of the others this desperate? Because their clans still have large numbers and they can afford to have a choice, to marry when and who they want. Why are the Hyuugas so damn picky? Because their elitists. Every society and community has them. Why doesn’t Naruto put emphasis on this? Because he grew up an orphan and no knowledge of his family. All that Uzumaki and Namikaze culture, heritage, and tradition? They are all already dead. He was never conditioned or told of the responsibilities because he has no family to live up to or look after.

Thirdly, “very mild form of that precious clan mentality”…I don’t think you could sound more derogatory in the written word without going straight to swearing. Uchiha clan mentality isn’t so different from a lot of current Eastern mentality of “family comes first”. Actually, that’s not just an Eastern cultural/societal subject.

Fourthly, the aspects you focus on and the way you define that “toxic clan culture”? You’re referring to a good part of Eastern culture as a whole. And a lot of places as a whole. The way you put it just sounds very judgmental.

So…summary. Clans are still actual things. They are parts of still thriving cultures. Thriving cultures in first world countries, and not just third world warring nations. A lot of the expectations and pressures you described as insane? They are also still a thing. My family is a clan, and I’m a clan kid. And personally? I think I’m pretty “normal” and “socialized”. I’m probably a bit crazy, but I’m blaming that on being from California.

Our culture doesn’t “force” us to do anything anymore than any other culture “forces” their people to do things. Which is to say, we still have choices. We can still make decisions. “Clan mentality”? Yes, it’s pretty insular. It teaches you that “your family is always the one you can depend on most” and lessons derived from a not-too-long ago time when families really could only depend on each other for support (seriously, New York in the 70s for Asians was just rough).

So please. Next time, if you’re going to talk about cultural stuff, be aware that there’s always a bit more to it and not be so quick to judge?

Thank you.

Based on this AU gifset; After Blaine moves to New York City, he finds that he shares the neighborhood with more than a few rough individuals. One of them, intriguing and indifferent, is named Kurt Hummel. ao3

warnings: verbal/physical harassment, slurs, bashing.

The first time Blaine sees Kurt Hummel is the day he moves into Santana and Rachel’s loft, and at that time he knows nothing about the man’s existence whatsoever. He only hears the roar of a motorcycle as he’s taking the last of his belongings into the building; he winces at the sound and instinctively turns to look. The motorcycle speeds down the street recklessly and Blaine barely catches a glimpse of its rider - leather-clad, with a scarf wrapped loose around his neck so that one end flaps behind him.

“I swear, one of these days I’m going to call the cops on that maniac,” Rachel says; Blaine jumps, not having noticed her. He’d thought she was still in the loft. “He’s going to hurt someone.”

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You Meet Him On Tour

Harry: “Slow day,” you hear your coworker say from behind you as she stands at the front of the studio looking out the windows at the rain coming down. “No one likes art in the rain,” you respond as you refill paint containers while you wait for anyone interested in painting pottery to come in. “Well I’m going to the back, there’s no use in just standing out here.” She walks past you and you continue to spill paint everywhere in an attempt to keep busy. After you finish your busy work, you clean up the mess it had left behind. While rinsing the paint from the rags in the sink you hear the doorbell chime. “You got it?” You hear from the back. “Yeah,” you answer her, knowing you could handle one person. You turn from the sink to greet whoever had ventured in. “Can I make something?” The deep accented voice says and you walk over to the counter, wiping your wet hands on your apron. “Yeah, of course,” you answer, your voice trying to remain steady. There was no way this was happening. How on earth did Harry Styles end up in the middle of Chattanooga, Tennessee? And why was he interested in painting pottery? Strange. Regardless of your questions you walk him over to a table. He pulls his coat off and you hold out your hand. He looks at you, only slightly confused before you nod over to the coat rack that stood by the door. He smiles and hands you his coat. “Hat,” you instruct. “Oh, I’ll keep it on, thanks,” he says. “It’s soaking wet….hat,” you persist. He lets out a small laugh before leaning over towards you. You pull the hat from his head, watching the long hair it had contained fall around his face. When you turn back around from dropping his things off at the coat rack you notice him already over at the shelves, mulling over his options. “What are you thinking about?” You ask, walking over to join him. “Something for my mum, she loves stuff like this,” he comments, looking over everything the shelves had to offer him. “Okay, well what does she like?” “Cats,” he begins with a chuckle, picking up the ceramic cat in front of him. “You aren’t painting a cat for you mom,” you tell him, taking the cat from his hand and placing it back on the shelf. “Well she likes to spend a lot of time in the garden…backyard,” he continues, correcting his language so you wouldn’t get confused and think his mom was a farmer. “Okay well what does she do in the…garden?” “Reads and has tea.” You knew exactly what he needed. “This way,” you instruct, taking him over to another set of shelves near the back of the studio. “You need this then,” you tell him, pulling a teapot from the shelf and handing it to him. “Good choice,” he says with a smile. You take four tea cups off of the shelf as well at his request and the two of you go back to the table. “I’ve never actually done this before,” he begins. “Well you see this?” You ask, pointing to your nametag, “This means I am fully certified to help you.” You walk over to the paint station and pull together some colors that work well with one another before grabbing him an apron. As he ties the apron around him you set out dishes of paint. “You can’t go wrong with any of these,” you assure him and a grateful smile forms on his face. “Don’t go too crazy though, mixing colors is fine, but you don’t want to make it look like your inner four year old did this.” “Why not?” He asks playfully. “Well I guess if that’s what you’re going for then I can’t stop you, but please don’t do that,” you whine, thinking about his mother. You watch as he picks up a small brush, dipping it in paint and beginning his work on the handle first. You step away from the table, allowing him to work on his own. You can’t help but watch him from behind the counter, the concentration on his face was distracting, he was actually trying. You watch as he constantly runs his hands through his hair, pushing it out of his face. Turning to go to the back you look at him one last time, his mouth parting, and his eyes staring hard at the design he was attempting. “Everything good?” Your coworker asks when you walk through the wall of beads. “Yeah, just got one painting a teapot,” you answer, not revealing his identity. You dig in your purse for a moment before heading back out to the front. You walk up to his side holding your hand out to reveal a hair tie. He sits his brush down, picking the tie up from your hand and pulling his hair back away from his face. “Thank you.” You smile. “Hey can you show me how to do that?” He questions as you begin to walk away, pointing to the design on the flowerpot in the window display behind him. “Yeah,” you respond, pulling a chair around to his side, grabbing the smallest brush. You sit by him, at his request, for this rest of his artistic venture. He was better than you credited him for and the teapot and cups looked great when he was finished. You place them on a tray and stick them in the oven to finish up. “They will be done in about an hour, if you want to come back to get them,” you inform him after returning to the table. He looks out the window, the rain pouring down, and then back to you. “I think I’ll just stay here.” The hour passes with him asking questions about the area he was in as well as how you got into the ceramic painting business. You wished you had more time with him though, he had really surprised you. As you pack his things up in a bag he joins you at the counter. “The rain stopped,” he acknowledges. Was he really trying to make small talk? Now? You nod and continue to wrap up his freshly baked artwork. “What time do you close?” He asks. “An hour ago,” you inform him. “Really? I’m so sorry,” he begins. “It’s fine. I usually stay after to prep things for the next day.” “But you don’t stay an hour.” “Well no, but it’s fine, really.” Your coworker had slipped out the back like she usually did, leaving you and Harry as the only two in the studio for the last hour. “Would you like to go to dinner?” He asks out of the blue. You look up at him, confused. “Was that too much?” He asks, unsure of his request. “Too much? No. Surprising? Yes.” “Is that a yes?” He asks with a smile and you hand him his bag. “Only because you owe me for making me stay over.” 

Liam: The crowd was filing in and your heart was fluttering as you look around the Barclays Center. Floor seats at a Brooklyn Nets game, your dream. It had taken you a year to save up enough money to afford it but here you were and the wait was worth it. With your Joe Johnson jersey on full display you slide your jacket off and hang it off of the back of your chair. The arena was preparing for the National Anthem and player introductions yet the chairs on either side of you were empty. Obviously people who were planning on interrupting your game by showing up late. You stand for the National Anthem, swaying along with the song, your hand over your heart before sitting back down for player introductions. “Get loud Barclays!” The emcee shouts and the crowd goes wild as the lights go down and the light show begins. “Starting for your Brooklyn Nets tonight…” He begins but your view of the team is blocked by the dark shadow of an usher, another shadow behind him. Just great. The crowd gets loud at every player’s introduction, and you wish you could see it. As the darkness fades your interruption is revealed. You roll your eyes. This was the last thing you needed. An incompetent who knew nothing about the game. You had seen Liam at Nets’ games before, sitting in the very seat he was in, not paying a bit of attention to what was actually happening on the floor, too distracted by the dancers to even care. You despised people like that. Sitting on the floor, inches from the players and could care less. “Do you want any popcorn?” A voice asks, a slight tap on your leg. You turn to see Liam looking at you and the vendor beside him. “Oh. No thank you,” you say, turning back to the court, your elbows resting on your knees, face in hands, as you wait for tipoff, your leg fidgeting with nerves. “You really get into this don’t you?” The voice appears again. You turn to him, your position still the same. “Yes,” you answer quickly before turning back to the court, hoping he would get the hint to shut up. “I guess you’re from around here.” He obviously wasn’t getting your hint. “No,” you answer, still facing the court. “Oh, well where are you from?” God he was chatty. “Virginia.” “I think I’ve been there before, Fairfax, I think it was.” You don’t answer him. The ball goes in the air and Kevin Garnett swipes it to Joe Johnson. “YES!” You cheer, your hands going up as you sit back up in your chair. Liam chuckles at your reaction, but you ignore him. He was not going to ruin this game for you. “Get that!” You shout as if a member of the coaching staff. Liam looks on as your legs begin to shake at the nerves. The game had just started and he was getting worried they had sat him beside a crazy person. He appreciated your enthusiasm though, it was entertaining to say the least. “YES MASON!” You shout as the 6’10’’ Forward slams the ball for two more points. A louder laugh comes from Liam this time. You turn to him, glaring. “I’m sorry,” he apologizes, a smile on his face, “you’re just really entertaining.” Was that supposed to be a compliment? You say nothing as you turn back to the game, his eyes still on you as you follow the game intently. Halftime comes too soon and the Nets barely hold the lead. “Oh hey, there’s Jay-Z,” Liam points out and you turn to see the rapper and his wife walk onto the floor. He gets up from his seat to greet the hip-hop legend. Stupid celebrities. Jay-Z and Beyoncé were regulars at Barclays, always showing up for the second half of the game. Liam returns to his seat having picked up a drink and popcorn while away. “Do you want some popcorn now?” He asks, holding the box out to you. You take a handful to shut him up. It doesn’t work. “So how far away is Virginia?” “An hour on a plane,” you answer. “That’s not too bad. How long are you here?” “Until the end of the week.” Your answers were short, this was not how you wanted to be spending halftime. “I’m sure Manhattan is on your list then.” “It is.” “Is this your first time in New York?” “Are we playing twenty questions?” You snap, he had reached his question asking limit. “Uh, no?” He begins, a little caught off guard. “I just wanted to know more about the mess of nerves that was sitting beside me.” Your roll your eyes at his description of you. You turn back to the court to watch a fan try and win a year supply of delivery pizza, anything was better than this conversation. As halftime ends you notice Liam had fallen silent. He was glued to his phone. “You could at least pretend to be interested,” you say, turning to him. He looks up and smiles, turning his phone screen to you. “I’m looking up these guy’s names so I know who you’re shouting at,” he explains, revealing the Nets’ roster on his phone. A smile spreads across his face, he was trying. “Is that a smile?” He questions playfully and you turn to the court, back in your original position leaning away from your chair, elbows on your knees. You hear him chuckle at your stubbornness. “Third,” you say, watching the players come back onto the court for the third quarter. “What?” He questions. “This is my third time in New York,” you reply, answering his question from earlier. He smiles. “I was here the last time you were,” you reveal, sitting back up in your chair as the ball is tossed into play. “Really?” He was interested now. “Yeah, I sat up there,” you begin, pointing over in the stands across from you, “they kept showing you and Niall on the screen.” His smile grows wider, you had just revealed that you knew who he was. He decides to not address your slipup and you are thankful. You turn back to the game and Liam imitates your form. “Like this?” He inquires, elbows on his knees, chin in his hands, legs bouncing profusely. You laugh at his mocking and shove him. “Hey I thought it was pretty good,” he responds, sitting back up in his chair. “SHOOT!” You shout, noticing Joe Johnson had the ball at the arc. “Yeah, shoot!” Liam shouts as well. The ball goes in from the line and your arms as well as his fly up, three more points on the board. “You want to get  drinks after this?” Liam asks, waiting until a timeout to ask the question he had been wondering since halftime. You turn to him. He had annoyed the hell out you for most of this game, but was slowly making a comeback. “Sure,” you answer, bringing a smile from Liam in response.        

Niall: “You don’t really look like a vodka and cranberry,” you point out, mixing the drink at his request. “I’m not,” he responds. His eyes were sad, a look you had never seen from him. You were well aware of who he was, but his unhappy demeanor took your excitement away. “What’s the matter?” You ask, sitting the double shot vodka cranberry in front of him. “What?” He questions. Your Dutch accent was strong and he hadn’t understood your question. “What’s the matter?” You repeat more clearly. “Nothing,” he responds, shaking his head and taking a drink of the cocktail. You stare at him, eyebrows raised. Your job as a bartender was to make conversation with your customers, he was going to talk. “It’s my bloody knee,” he finally reveals. “It’s been hurting more lately and it’s really screwing up the…” He trails off not wanting to disclose his job in case there were a chance you didn’t know who he was. “It’s just frustrating not being able to do everything I want to do, you know?” You nod, sitting the juice and vodka under the bar, you would be needing it again. You present him with a new drink at his request, before continuing your work down the bar with the rest of your customers. His mood begins to change with each new drink you bring him. You put the football on for him to watch on the television in front of him. He was in his own world. Cheering with each goal from teams you knew he knew nothing about. “Hey Jen,” you call out to your coworker, motioning her to come over. “Will you check and see if One Direction have a show tomorrow?” you request. “Sure, why?” She inquires, pulling her phone out. You nod down to the other end of the bar at the drunk Irishman. She laughs and shakes her head. He motions you over and you walk away from her. “Can I get another?” He asks, his eyes glossy, he was probably seeing two of you by now. “Yeah,” Jen shouts from the other side of the bar. “Where at?” You ask further. “Here,” she answers. You laugh out loud, he would be feeling this tomorrow if he didn’t slow down. You mix him another drink, this time with only one shot to slowly wean him off of the alcohol. He doesn’t seem to notice the difference and you walk back down to the other end of the bar to join Jen. “If he doesn’t stop drinking soon, he won’t be sober by tomorrow,” you tell her as she mixes a drink for another customer. “How many is that for him?” “Five.” “He’s been eating right?” You shake your head, he hadn’t ordered anything with his drinks. “Well get him a pretzel or something,” she says, walking over to hand the drink over. You nod, and walk back to the kitchen to request a few pretzels be made. You emerge from the kitchen five minutes later with three large, very hot, pretzels to help him out. “I didn’t order these,” he says when you sit them down in front of him. “They’re on the house,” you return with a smile. He needed something else besides alcohol in his system. The crowd in the bar begins to shrink as morning comes. You had cut the alcohol from Niall’s drinks completely, as well as bringing out more food for him to eat, you would use your tips to pay for it if you had to. You didn’t want to be responsible for him throwing up on stage less than twenty-four hours from now. “Babe, we’re closing soon,” you tell him as he drinks the rest of his juice. He nods, stuffing the rest of the food on his plate in his mouth. “I said soon, not now,” you reply, laughing at his actions. Your efforts to sober him up were working. He wasn’t remotely close to being able to take the stage anytime soon, but you could tell he was more coherent. He shrugs his shoulders and hands you his plate, his mouth still full. As you take his dishes back to the kitchen Jen stops you. “Someone’s got a boy crush,” she remarks. “What makes you say that?” You question, turning back to see him staring down the bar at you. “Oh.” She laughs as the two of you turn away from each other in unison. You keep moving towards the kitchen. He hands you his card when you return to him from dropping his dirty dishes off. You ring his tab up and slide his card, grabbing the receipts and a pen. “Do you think I could have your number?” He asks as you walk up to him. Jen was right. Jen was always right, though. She could spot a flirt as soon as they walked through the door. “You’ve had a lot to drink babe, I think it’s best you just get some sleep,” you answer, trying your best to ignore his question. “I’m fine,” he assures you. You didn’t want to flat out tell him ‘no’, but you weren’t going to give him your number. There was no point.  He traveled too much, even a friendship would be pointless. “I get it though. You probably get a lot of drunk people asking for your number anyways. Sorry I asked.” His mood was back to where it had been when he had sat down hours ago. “It’s not that, it’s just…” you begin but he holds his hand up to stop you. “You don’t have to explain.” He signs the receipts before taking his card back and getting down from the stool. “It was nice to meet you…” “(Y/N)” “Yeah, nice to meet you,” he repeats, trying to bring a smile to his face. With that he turns around and walks out. You grab the receipts from the bar, sad that your night had ended like that. You hadn’t meant to hurt his feelings, but he was still drunk. Asking for your number was something he certainly would not have done sober. It was best it ended this way. No one left wondering what was going to happen next.   

Louis: Eyes catch yours as you drift from the customer in front of you to watch the guy in the white tank top and black jeans walk by the window. A smile forms on his face as he keeps going. “Excusez-moi?” The lady in front of you interrupts and you are brought back. “Désolé,” you apologize, packing her pastries into a box, handing them across the counter. She was the last one in line, thank goodness. The afternoon rush had been crazy today with only you and your boss working. You clean up the mess the rush had brought in, your boss going back to get more stock. The door chimes and you sigh deeply, here it goes again. You turn to the door. White tank top. Black jeans. Familiar smile. A too familiar smile. You had seen this face before, even  before he had walked by your window. “Bonjour,” he greets, his English accent on display. “How can I help you?” You return, letting him know he didn’t have to struggle with anymore French.  “Well I don’t really know what I’m looking for,” he answers. “Okay, well what do you like?” You try, hopefully a better question. “Pastry,” he says with that smile you had seen in all of the pictures. “Okay, well that’s a start.” “What is that?” He asks, pointing inside the display case. “That would be an éclair.” “So…” “So chocolate on top and a butter crème in the center.” “Yeah, that sounds good. One of those please,” he nods. “What about this?” “Canelé. It has custard on the inside.” “I like custard,” he responds, and you put one of those in his box as well. “Those are mini St Honoré cakes,” you answer, looking over the case at his next inquiry. “Puff pastry and pâte à choux, with cream puffs and crème chiboust.” “I have no idea what any of that means.” “Well then I guess you are going to have to trust me on this one,” you say, placing the small cake in the box. “What happens if I don’t like it?” He counters cheekily. “You can come back in a week and tell me about it.” “I won’t be around in a week,” he says, immediately catching onto what you were saying. “So you only recommend things when you know customers won’t be able to complain?” “Sure,” you reply, a smile on your face. “(Y/N),” a voice says from behind you. You turn to see your boss standing in the doorway leading to the back half of the bakery. She nods to the line that had formed while you and Louis were conversing. “Oh.” You hadn’t even noticed anyone else walk through the door a part from him. She returns to the stock room trusting to return to see you moving on to a different customer. You walk over to the register and Louis follows from the other side of the counter. “Sixteen thirty-seven.” His hands reach down, patting his pockets to find his wallet. “Shit,” he says under his breath. “I don’t have my wallet.” He looks at you sorrowfully. “On me,” you say, sliding the box across the counter anyways. “No,” he retorts. “Yes,” you persist, knowing you wouldn’t see him after he walked out of the bakery. “Merci.” “Ça va.” He turns to leave, not looking back, leaving you with the people that had been gathered behind him. The sun goes down as all you’ve been able to think about was the guy in the white tank top with absolutely no knowledge of French pastry. Your distraction shows on your face and in your actions, messing out countless orders the rest of the afternoon. “Êtes-vous bien?” Your boss had asked you after the second rush had finished. You nod your head, letting her know you were fine, your brain still full of Louis. She tosses you the keys from across the counter and you walk over to lock the door, only to stop as a shadow approaches. Your nervous heart relaxes when you realize he had returned. You take the key out of the door, opening it up to allow him to come back in. Your boss smiles, disappearing back to the stock room. You walk around the counter, Louis staying where he had been a few hours earlier. He hands you his credit card over the now empty display case. “No,” you shake your head. “Yes. You are not paying for me,” he insists, putting his card down on the counter. “I’m not leaving until I sign a receipt.” You roll your eyes playfully, sliding his card off of the case and walking over to the register. You present him with a receipt and a pen. “Do I have to leave if I sign this?” He questions. “I’ll be outside in ten,” you tell him, looking around to see what else needed to be done before you officially closed. He nods with a smile, signing the piece of paper and handing you the pen. He heads to the door, turning around before walking out. “Rendez-vous sur,” your boss says from behind you once he’s out the door. You turn around to see the smile on her face. “Êtes-vous sûr?” She nods . “Merci!” You go to the back to get your things before heading out the door. You look down the sidewalk to find him standing against the wall, leg propped against the brick, the light of his phone showcasing his smile once he spots you. “That was a quick ten minutes,” Louis comments when you follow after him. “I’m really quick, what can I say?” “After you.” Louis holds his hand out, gesturing you to walk. “Where would you like to go?” You ask as the two of you walk down the sidewalk side by side. “Where ever you want to take me,” he responds. “Alright then.” You think about the city around you. “You didn’t eat all of those pastries yet, did you?” You ask. “I didn’t no. But they got eaten.” “Okay so how about dinner?” “Sounds great.” “You like tapas?” “Sure,” he responds. You laugh. “Demain c’est loin it is,” you reply, looking both ways before heading across the street, Louis following close behind you.

Zayn: “You’ve got the books today,” your cousin announces, as you walk in the door. You nod and walk straight to the front desk. Studio City had been short staffed for the last couple of weeks and he had asked for your help seeing as you were the only other family member in Los Angeles. You flip through the appointment book as he turns on the LED signs as the first couple of appointments begin to file in. “Gabe, you’re ten is here,” you call back into the shop. “He will be up in just a second,” you tell the girl standing in front of you, already covered in plenty of tattoos. You call out for the other artists to make their way to the front as their clients arrive. The shop was soon full with the buzz of tattoo guns, a sound you enjoyed thoroughly. As the lobby clears you take your phone out to browse through the sales happening in your email, you would have to do some serious shopping when you got home. “Hi,” you say as you hear the door chime, looking away from your phone to see who had walked through the door. A dark haired and tattooed guy walks over to stand in front of your desk, taking off his sunglasses once he reaches you. You recognize him, he’s been around town before, just not in this particular shop. “Do you have an appointment?” You knew he didn’t have an appointment, the name alone would have stuck out to you as you reviewed the people who would be coming in today. “No, I don’t,” he answers. “I’m not sure there’s much I can do for you then,” you respond, knowing how strict your cousin was about the ‘by appointment only’ policy. “Oh. Okay,” he says. He wasn’t asking for special treatment, which was rare for people in his position. You had dealt with people who had thought they were famous. He was proper famous though and the fact that he was here at this shop was kind of a big deal. “It’s just everyone is booked today,” you begin trying to explain. “No, I understand,” he continues, still not asking for you to pull any special favors for him. You watch as he begins to turn around to head out the door. “Wait,” you call out and he turns around. “This is my cousin’s shop, maybe I can talk him into tattooing you. He doesn’t usually tattoo people anymore, but let me talk to him.” “Thank you,” he says graciously. “What’s up?” You are greeted with as you walk into the back office. “Zayn Malik is here,” you begin. “Who?” Of course he doesn’t know who he is; he’s not a teenage girl. “Zayn Malik, from One Direction.” “Okay?” “He’s here to get a tattoo,” you reveal. “Does he have an appointment?” “No.” “Well tell him I’m sorry but there’s nothing I can do. We are booked solid and there’s no room in anyone schedule for a random person to come in and ask for something.” “He isn’t just a random person, Jon. Do you know how much publicity he could bring to this place?” You question, and he looks up from his paperwork. “If he gets something done here, your business will double. Trust me.” “Who’s going to tattoo him then?” “You,” your answer was stern, you were trying to help him out. “Me? Hell no. I hired a full staff so I didn’t have to do that anymore.” “But you’re so good. You tattoo the guys all of the time,” you say, making your point. He sighs. “There’re already photographers standing across the street,” you inform him, having caught a glimpse at them before walking back to the office. “If this takes more than two hours, you’re fired,” he says, getting up from his desk. “You don’t even pay me Jon,” you counter with a smile. The two of you emerge from the office, Zayn extending his hand to your cousin. “Zayn.” “Jon, nice to meet you.” “I didn’t know about the appointment thing, sorry,” Zayn laments. “It’s alright man, what are you wanting to get done?” Zayn pulls out a sketch from his jean pocket, handing it to Jon. You look over to have a look. It was a mix of wings, skulls, vines, and a few symbols you didn’t understand, none of it making much sense. Jon looks at you, this would be taking more than two hours. “Where are thinking about getting it?” “My back.” “Do you want it bigger than this or is this size good?” “I would like it cover most of my back.” Jon nods, motioning Zayn to follow him back into his office. He had plenty of room and equipment to tattoo Zayn in there. It takes about an hour before you hear the sound of another gun buzzing along with the rest. Jon wouldn’t regret his decision. You knew how much business those guys brought to the shops they got tattooed at. “Lunch run!” You shout over the buzzing, grabbing a pad of paper to take orders on. “Where are you going?” A voice shouts. “Chipotle,” you answer, knowing it was a shop favorite. After having gotten the orders for all eight artists you head back to the office. “What do you want from Chipotle?” You ask Jon. He stops his work on Zayn’s back to answer. “Steak burrito with rice and black beans, make sure they do black, guacamole, salsa, cheese, and no sour cream. None.” “Got it. You want anything?” You ask Zayn. “What?” He asks looking up from his outstretched position, unsure of why you were asking him if he wanted lunch. “Get something, you’re going to be here a while,” Jon suggests. “Oh, um, just get me whatever you get,” he tells you with a gracious smile. You nod and leave them to continue. “You finally finished?” You ask as Zayn approaches the desk, shirtless, a large bandage covering his back so he could put his shirt back on. “Yeah, finally,” he says looking up at the clock on the wall behind you. He had walked in seven hours ago. Jon pulled his bandage back to show off his work to you. “That’s sick!!” Jon had impressed you once again. “Yeah, it’s great. I really like it,” Zayn says of your cousin’s work. “Give him a card for touch ups, will you?” He shakes Zayn’s hand one last time before heading back to his office to get back to the paperwork he had missed. “You can come back anytime,” you begin, taking a business card from the pile at your desk and grabbing a pen. “Just ask for Jon and he will touch anything up for free.” “Thanks,” he says when you hand him the card. You watch as he walks out of the shop, stopping right outside the window, chuckling to himself as he looks down at the card. He turns to look at you from outside, holding the card up. You smile and shrug your shoulders and he laughs, enjoying the fact that you had put your number on the back of the card. 

Yellow, for luck

Harry looked up as he heard the front door open and close again. Was that Ginny? She wasn’t supposed to be home yet. He shot a glance at his watch and cursed under his breath. It was 3.30 pm already, which meant he had been working on this report for two bloody hours. Harry put his quill down, stretched his arms over his head and eyed his work. Only one third of the roll of parchment was filled with his messy scrawl.

“Harry?” came the tentative voice of his wife from the hall.

“In here,” he called back. “I’m coming in a sec, just finishing something up.”

He heard the muffled sound of her shoes on the carpet and turned to greet her as she entered the study. Ginny was still wearing her winter cloak and shawl. Her nose was slightly red from the cold, hair a little ruffled from apparating. Her almost five months old baby bump was only just visible under the thick layer of clothing. Harry crossed the room in two steps, pulled her against him and placed a soft kiss on her lips. She smiled when he drew back.

“Hi,” she said, looking up to his face with her arms still around his neck.

“Hi yourself! Had a nice lunch?”

“Lunch was wonderful. We went to this really cosy place in Muggle London -  Hermione’s idea ofcourse. It was nice to spend some time out and about without being recognized all the time.”

“How’s Luna?”

“She’s great. Actually, she said she was taking next week off, because Rolf just finished this big report on a new discovery they made a while back. They’re going on a holiday to celebrate.” 

Speaking of reports, how’s yours coming along?” She raised her eyebrows at him and nodded to the desk behind him.

“Ruddy awful,” Harry said. He pulled back and walked to his desk. The piece of parchment lying on top surely looked innocent enough, as if he hadn’t been struggling to finish it for the past two hours or so.

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"Why Prank Wars are a Bad Idea in Arendelle"

Rating: T

Words: 5,500

Pairing(s): Kristanna

Summary: When Kristoff gets caught up in a prank war between Anna and Elsa, he is not amused. Then things start to get out of hand … 

Notes: This started out as my response to the Elsa Week prompt “Mischievous Elsa” and it was going to be just a silly little story, but then it sort of got away from me and turned into something serious and kinda dark at the end. Wheeeee, first real Frozen fanfic!

I’m going to complete all the Elsa Week prompts, even though Elsa Week is over. Elsa is just too awesome to skip a single prompt.


It began with tea.

Kristoff had never liked the stuff. It was just hot water to him, not enough flavor, too many little bits floating in it to be appetizing. Hot, dark coffee was more his style. But he knew Anna liked tea - the sweeter the better - and Elsa drank at least a pot a day. That was where the trouble arose.

The three of them were seated at the small, round table in the servants’ kitchen, eating buttered toast and eggs. Nothing strange there - unless important guests had stayed the night, they always ate together in the warm, food-smelling room. Kristoff was blearily sipping his coffee. Anna was her usual peppy self, happily scarfing down multiple helpings of eggs. Elsa was already occupied with the stack of papers she had next to her plate, scanning them quickly as she finished her first cup of tea.

Then, in Kristoff’s opinion, disaster struck. As Elsa got up to get more water from the kettle, Anna grabbed a handful of sugar cubes from the bowl and stealthily tipped them into the teapot.

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There’s so much Hogwarts!Klaine and it’s making me happy and want to write more! For miss-awesomesauce because she asked for more of this verse.

This is the third part but chronologically comes before this and this. I think I’m going to have to make a tag or something for these because it’s becoming a thing and I have ideas. It’s a ‘verse not a story though so they’re not really going to have a specific order or organisation to how they’re posted.

“Mr Anderson, would you care to share with the class?” Professor McGonagall asks, shooting an icy glare across the class room. Everyone turns in their seats , including Kurt, to look at where the Gryffindor is sitting with his back rim-rod straight and his eyes wide as he stares at his Head of House. On either side of him, Finn and Sam look like one of the ghosts have just passed through them.

“Uh, n-no, professor, I was just-” he tries to explain and the whole class snickers, watching with amusement now. “S-Sam and I were just-”

“Maybe,” she says in a hard voice, “if yourself and Mr Evans spent more time concentrating on Transfiguration and less time on Quidditch you’d be able to successfully turn your Teapot into a Tortoise and not merely give your crockery a new pattern, Mr Anderson.”

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Stormy Day with Harry Styles

A/N: I hope you understand how to play the game Uno.

“Ha! Take four cards! There’s no way you could win now,” you cheer in Harry’s face, and he rolls his eyes. You had just dropped a  wild and draw four card on Harry in the game of Uno . “The color’s yellow.”

“I could win, y'never know,” he shrugs and smirks.

“Nah,” you boast. “You have too many cards. I only have three left.” You stick up your three fingers and lift your head up high.

Board and card games were always a great activity to do with Harry. You two did not play often; but when you did, you had a blast. It never got to the point where you two would argue (Uno often ends relationships and Monopoly causes heartbreak); you and Harry were very easygoing. It’s just a game isn’t it?

You would only act competitive to annoy Harry, but it never did annoy him. He actually loved to see you get so worked up and excited over a game (he knew you were only trying to be annoying but he still found it cute). He would play along and act annoyed as well, sighing when you made him draw cards and rolling his eyes every minute.

Harry had come home about an hour ago, soaked from the rain. His clothes were darker from being wet. His shoes- these autumn boots that he always wore, absorbed and dispersed water as he walked. His long curls stuck to his cheeks and his nose was red. You hurriedly brought him a warm pair of clothes to change into, turned on the stove, and filled a teapot with water.

After he changed, you blew hot air into Harry’s cold hands and rubbed them with yours. Once he was warm inside and out, you suggested that you two play games.

Anyway, Harry takes four cards from the drawing stack and side-eyes you. You place down a yellow card with the number 5 and wait for Harry to put down a card. He looks through his entire stash and furrows his eyebrows.

“You can’t find a yellow or a five with all those cards you have?” you are shocked but you can’t help but snicker.

“Oh, I do, I was just trying to see if I have any cards to  prevent ya from winning. Guess not,” he puts down a yellow with the number 3 on it.

“Ha, that sucks,” you place down your second-to-last card, which was a green 3. “Uno!”

Harry looks at you and pouts. “Why are you so good at this game?”

You raise your eyebrows and shrug. “Don’t know.”

“Not good enough,” he mumbles. Harry puts down a green draw two card, a wild plus four card (the color he choses is blue), and puts down three skip cards, two of which are blue, and the last is yellow. Harry puts down more plus draw twos and plus fours and wilds and skips and reverses.

Your mouth is agape and your eyes are wide. You do not pick up a single card because you lost track. "Is this even allowed?“

"Uno!” Harry says loudly and places the last card he had, which was another wild/draw four. “Oh and the color is red!”

He takes all of the cards and chucks them towards you.

“Harry stop!” you laugh.“You lied! You said you didn’t have any cards to prevent me from winning!” you cover your face to protect yourself from the flying cards.

“I suppose I did lie,” Harry stops throwing the cards. He waits for you to uncover your face.

You slowly uncover your face when you notice he’s stopped. Harry gets close to you and brings your body close to his. You relax.

“Loser,” he teases you.


Harry gets up to go the restroom in the midst of you two cuddling. You pout and Harry assures you that he’ll be back fast. Seeing you whine over him leaving makes him smile to say the least; he loves the feeling that you don’t want him to leave and he can’t explain why.

As he flushed the toilet, the lights in the bathroom flickered. He washes his hands quickly. A loud roar of thunder is heard throughout the house and he thinks he hears you whimper. The thunder is accompanied by a flash a lightning and the flickering lights become dead… and so does every other source of electricity in your house.

“Harry!’ you call his name.

You were not fond of the dark and the thunder did not stop. Harry slowly opens the door of the bathroom and you can only tell because it creaks, which you somehow heard over the obnoxious thunder.

"Come here,” you say.

You want him to respond but he hasn’t. Not that he could really say much to what you said, but you are dying for a simple “okay”.

A minute passes and you become paranoid. The bathroom is seconds away from the living room and you don’t know why he’s taking so long.

Did he hit his head? Is he unconscious? Is someone else in the house? 

No, the electricity just went out a minute ago; for any of that to occur would be unreasonable.

Or, it could just be that he’s searching around the house for candles. But no response yet. You reach for your phone on the small table next to you, but you realize that it’s charging upstairs.

You whimper again and curl up into a ball. You close your eyes because you are more comfortable with that darkness, rather than darkness of the night.

Two minutes pass and it feels like a decade. The sound of thunder eased a bit, but you did not. You felt anxious but your paranoia made you realize that something could have happened to Harry and you’re just laying here like a baby.

So you slowly move your legs from their current position and sit up. You open your eyes and look around. Complete darkness.

“Harry, please,” you almost whisper.

You touch the furniture around you and slowly make your way towards the bathroom, hearing your heart beat. You make it to the bathroom, and walk inside. You do not see him in there, but at the same time, you can’t see at all.

“Harry?” you say. “Baby, you’re scaring me.”

Your own voice makes you petrified and you would feel more comfortable lying back on the couch, although that offered no safety.

You hear a bang which sounds like something hit the wall. You locate the sound to be in the kitchen but you’re too afraid too check. Now your hearts skipping beats an your breathing becomes irregular.

Before you sink to the ground in frustrated tears, you feel something poke at your sides with an “Boo!” following it.

You scream and fall to the ground. The sound of laughter fills the room and you sigh. You feel a rush of shame for falling to the ground - if this was a serious situation falling to the ground is a poor choice because you’re vulnerable.

“Harry that’s not funny,” you groan. Harry tries to help you up but he can’t see you. You get up yourself and almost bump into him. He touches your arms and face because he can’t see you.

“Sorry baby,” he said in-between laughs.

You don’t respond because your heart is still racing and you’re annoyed with him. Harry takes out his phone from his pocket and turns on the flashlight.

“Let’s get some candles, okay?” he manages to say; he’s still laughing.

“I thought you were hurt! First you trick me into thinking that you’ll lose Uno, then you make me think you’re injured or unconscious because you wouldn’t respond to me and I heard a bang, but instead you scare the living shit out of me!” you scold him and playfully hit his arm.

He wraps his arm around your waist when he finds it. “I won’t leave your side nor scare you again, okay?”

You kiss what you think is his upper arm. “Is this a promise for today or for forever?”

“Forever,” he smiles. “Now let’s go light this place up.”

He remains holding onto you as you go around your house and gather candles and light them.

myuselessknowledge  asked:

Toni,could i request for a prompt Zayn and the dogs waking Liam up with breakfast in bed for this birthday? Thank you so much in advance!

Hi Cami,

Hope you like it - sorry it took me so long to do.  I’ve kind of done this as a belated birthday or a second birthday thing for when he got home to the UK as it took me so long.  Hope that’s okay.

Some is under the cut just so its not too long. 


Liam’s head almost bounces against the rear left window of the car as he jolts awake for the third time already in the short journey home.

Most of the time, he kids himself that he’s used to the flying, used to the change of the timezones and used to jetlag.

Its a lie he can barely convince himself to believe, certainly can’t be bothered to right now. 

He always uses the excuse when he can’t be bothered to show the paps his face, that he’s too tired, and that was true this time, throw in a bit more about how sick and tired he is of the nonsense in the media and you’d be even closer to the truth.

“5 minutes,” comes Paddy’s voice from the front passenger seat as Liam looks up, grateful for the distraction from those not so good thoughts.

He considers texting Zayn to let him know but he’d already done texted him as soon as he got in the car and he figures Zayn’s probably too busy trying to convince the dogs to come in from outside to greet Liam to see the text till later anyway.

So instead he leans back in his seat and tries to fight the urge to fall asleep again.


The car pulls away as Liam stands in front of the front door.

Paddy declined his offer to come in for a coffee muttering something like “I know what your reunions are like thanks very much.”

Liam considers bending down to search in his daysac to look for the house keys but honestly, its taking all his effort to stay upright and not fall asleep in amongst the rhododendrons his mum painstakingly planted earlier this year.

So instead he leans against one of the the pillars in the archway near to the front door, expecting Zayn’s ‘spidey senses’ where it comes to Liam to show themselves any minute now. 

He doesn’t shut his eyes. Honest.

Its the chuckle that brings him back, its only for a moment but its so familiar, and he feels himself grinning before he even opens his eyes.

“Someone’s a bit tired I’m guessing?“ 

Zayn eyes are scrunched up, crinkling at the sides with the grin that’s full force on his face, his hair is growing once more, and his beard is beginning to be a bit unruly again and that sends a shiver of anticipation for later down his spine.

He’s got that old Garfield t-shirt on, and the pair of grey joggers with holes in it as part of the design that their mums had despaired of them spending “HOW MUCH?” on.

He looks nothing like a 23rd year old megastar really.  He looks like he does when Liam loves him most, and he loves all the versions of him but this one, that's all about home, all about comfort, all about just them being themselves, that’s the one Liam thinks about when they’re apart and he just wants to snuggle in close to him and fall asleep for the next three days.

Apparently his eyes shut once more because the next thing he’s aware of is the feel of a fingertip on the side of his face, stroking at the smudges of grey/black he knows form the circles under his eyes, like as if somehow by magic with his touch they’ll disappear.

He opens his eyes, and Zayn’s there in front of him, looking sort of rested though he knows he’s been busy too, he’s got this peaceful expression on his face before he murmurs.

“Always the best time, this, seeing your face again, being able to touch it,” same thinks Liam, same. 

He’s just about to say so before he begs to go inside, get pulled inside more like, scooped over Zayn’s shoulder in his dreams even and then maybe he’ll make it upstairs, or more likely Zayn’ll pull him into the living room where there’ll be a duvet and pillows there already and he’ll fall asleep as soon as his head hits the settee and then he’ll wake in a few hours, tangled up with Zayn’s limbs.

Zayn’s smirking though, then giggling and he’s lifting up the gold chain that’s still round Liam’s neck.

“Have you taken this off even once in the last week?“ 

Liam shakes his head.

"Couldn’t wear either of the bracelets could I, and this thing it doesn’t have the same effect, and I know people think its all about the new image,"  he says the last two words accompanied by air quotes with two fingers on both hands before he finishes.

"But they don’t need to know you bought it for me, can be just our thing maybe.”

“I like the things we get to keep, just for us.” 

Liam agrees and he’s actually vaguely aware that Zayn’s still talking but even the pillar isn’t doing that good a job of keeping him awake right now.

He does hear Zayn chuckling again though before he says.

“Okay okay, someone needs their sleep,” and he expects to feel Zayn’s fingers link with his own and drag him along.

He doesn’t expect Zayn to loop a couple of fingers round the chain, and then gently oh so gently, tug him.



“Just trying a thing, you know.”  he says it almost apologetically but there’s this smirk on Zayn’s face for a moment but then he’s dropping his fingers from the chain, and instead Zayn’s fingers link with his own. 

The trying a thing, thing?  It almost does enough to keep him wide awake, but he loses the battle the moment his head hits the pillows.

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