no nothing is wrong with my glasses in the second one

top 10 phan moments that make me wanna rip my heart out

yeah, just ten moments among hundreds, let it be part one or something. tell me what i’ve missed because i want more suffering in my life.

10) mind control.

i mean, i appreciate the subtlety. i crave those tiny moments that you only notice when someone points them out to you. but this! you can’t miss this one, this moment is shoved down our throats. this is so “i’m allowed to do that to you, to be in your personal space, and gaze into your eyes for no reason, just because i want to”. and phil’s face in that moment, so much joy and mischief, he claps his hands and gazes back.

9) chest touch.

drama queen howell strikes again, it hurts to rewatch it srsly, why is he so extra? but what is phil doing ladies and gents? he slaps his chest in the weirdest way possible, he brushes it, it’s like he wants to shove him but reassuringly and the movement happens so fast you have to pause for a second to comprehend it. that sweet gentle boy is so fond of dan’s unnecessary commentary and yeah, it completely distracts us from what dan is saying at that moment.

8) feel my heartbeat.

was that necessary, really? like, i don’t ask my friends to feel my heartbeat when i’m scared, that was such a “horror movie at first date” bullshit, that’s not what people do?? and when dan does feel that beautiful hummingbird heart, phil just covers his hand with his own palm because yes, you gotta feel it very close, no air between your hand and my chest. dan immediately looks into the camera to show us that yeah, i know you’re there, nothing strange, and makes a comment about phil dying. wow.

7) phil the delivery man.

i don’t know what to say. it’s so simple but why does phil have to make such an act of bringing dan his charger, why does he talk in that stupid voice?? they have a banter, and then phil FIXES DAN’S CHARGER FOR HIM, like what?? who asked you to do that? where’s my IT guy au (literally, he’s got glasses, look at him). and before he leaves he plays the piano that nerd, what an attention seeker, and then bows!! is he tipsy? did he have a pre-liveshow orgasm or something? dan laughs fondly and it’s all i need in the world.

6) child beer.

what’s happening and does it even matter. phil’s hiding on the floor, but why? to surprise us? eh whatever. so he’s got that magical japanese powdery stuff and he wants dan to taste it. the biggest problem for me here, ahem, i mean the thing that just kills me every time is that phil spends the whole time (eight minutes) on his knees and he looks so cute when he makes that beer, holds it close to the camera, and then lets the foam sit so dan can have the ultimate child beer experience.

it reminds me of that hot chocolate video, where he does something so trivial but he’s so gentle and loving about it. i still don’t understand why they didn’t do a simple taste test like bros, but phil had to make it for dan, he wanted to see his reaction. and then he tries it as well, touches the glass rim with his lips at the same place where dan’s mouth just was (gross).

and i just can’t ignore how that boy sneaks past dan’s room after that, he’s playful, he stops to say that he googled something and dan was wrong, and domesticity, i wanna die.

5) sleeping phil on tour.

i kinda wanna talk about the angle here because i don’t understand how it was filmed (camera is pretty static, dan’s hand reaches from the side, not behind), but i don’t know if it matters here. what matters is how gentle dan is. of course, he starts with classic nose tickling, which is what “messing with a sleeping friend” usually implies, but then he frees one strand of phil’s hair and just lets it fall. wow, fantastic prank, dan.

and let’s separately discuss that pout/kiss phil does after he opens his eyes. i know you want a slow mo replay, so here we go:

that’s what i call “im gonna stay asleep but i love you”. where’s the nearest cliff so i can fling myself into abyss?

4) the look.

context what context. why did they keep it? why did they put it on fullscreen instead of hiding in the corner? two full-length looks dan, really?? you know what he looks like, why do you have to examine him like that in front of us you slut. and it just passes, without acknowledgment, they just turn back at us simultaneously and I’M STILL DEAD at that moment, i don’t care what happens next.

3) snoot. proot. (i just filmed you doing that)

i don’t even care what it was. something about piano sounds or whatever, but this video haunts me. THERE’S SO MUCH TO IT. first, phil is lying on dan’s bed (at least in the official version it’s dan’s, not mutual), just chilling?? and dan’s working i guess. so they are not actually doing something together but it’s a cozy evening, why would they spend it in different rooms? dan says something, idk, and phil replies “yeah” in that deep voice I SWEAR i haven’t heard from him before. dan makes the sounds again, like can you believe he’s an actual dork in real life, it’s not an act, he’s actually the weirdest boy alive, and he so obviously doesn’t know he’s being filmed. because when phil says “i just filmed you doing that you’re so weird”, he’s so delighted, he laughs at himself, he turns around, his hair is pushed back omg they are both so sleepy and i rejoice. i think this video gives us a rare but fantastic insight in their everyday life, phil must be keeping so much silly videos like that on his google drive and we never get to see them BUT SOMEHOW he posts this one, probably because dan is cute and he wants everyone to know it.

2) you loved it. you wanna do it more.

so, yes. you know this one. where do i even begin?? they play this dragon quiz and then 1) phil says “you loved it” in the strangest voice, like the voice we never hear from him, it’s deeper and quieter, he looks at dan even though dan’s not looking back; 2) dan is looking down as if he’s fiddling with an ipad or something, it’s almost a bts moment, something they would usually edit out. AND THEN THREE SECONDS OF SILENCE while dan kinda processes what’s going on and phil still looks at him expectantly. seductive as fuck. and now this quiet “alright”, i’m just… dan looks like he’s gotten the hint, so he’s a little embarrassed and they share the softest laugh. 

the thing is, we know how often phil makes sexual innuendos and dan always reacts the same way: he looks into the camera, he throws a witty comment in, he puts it on display to show us that there’s no intimacy in that moment. but not this time. i don’t understand why they didn’t edit it out. i just… don’t.

1) pantless liveshow
this is the ultimate. this is the weirdest and the most awesome thing these two gave me and i’m not even sure what can top that. the moment when phil decides to grab the humidifier and show us, he looks at the screen, says “one second” and stands up very awkwardly while dan turns the laptop away from him and makes the weirdest “how you doing” face. 

WHAT THE FUCK. did they think we were so used to them weirdos that we wouldn’t even notice that shit? but fuck, they do it again, they want to show us the spray and dan goes “should i go get it? you have to do phil’s corner”. like, i can’t function, i honestly can’t. AND THE WORST PART is when dan returns and we can see him covering his legs with a blanket just too fast like it’s not that cold boy come on.

i have no explanation and i have every explanation. i don’t deserve all this suffering.

anonymous asked:

i have a prompt for you: what if snape hadn't called lily 'mudblood' that day. what if their friendship had stayed strong, unbreakable. would he have grown to be a better person? would lily have loved him, rather than james? would harry just have another godfather? would james and lily have survived?

Okay you have successfully convinced me to write a Snape thing, which is a possibility I have audibly forsworn many times to my loved ones. But I’m a sucker for concepts like “Harry gets another godfather,” so, here we go.


When Severus was seven, he fell in love with the girl down the street. She had long red hair and dirty knees and she offered him half her candy bar one drizzly afternoon, waiting outside the school for her parents to come pick her up.

His parents weren’t coming— dad working late and mum at the pub recounting old Hogwarts glory stories, talking of years when her life was magical– but he didn’t tell Lily that. He was just waiting for the older bully boys who lurked in the empty lot on his way home to get bored and leave.

He ate the candy slowly in neat little bites while she grinned and told him about her big sister’s feud with the science teacher, like her Tuney was some sort of hero in a political espionage drama. She talked with her hands, narrow little things with freckled backs. He watched her wave from the back window of her mother’s car and then he started the long walk home.

When Severus was fifteen, James Potter dangled him upside down in the quad and laughed. Severus landed on elbows and knees. The bruises would stay for a week. The memories would not die with them— James’s cocky grin, the laughter in the spring air, the long whip of Lily’s red hair.

He felt small, bug-like, his knees pressing into the grass. His mother would come home some nights, kick the threadbare carpet, rattle the battered old pans in the cupboard, curse a Ministry that hated purebloods, that sucked up to halfbreeds and Mudbloods, that left the true wizards to rot in filth. He would curl up, make himself small, bug-like, imagine a chitinous shield growing over his shoulders, his spine, the softness of his kidneys. Some days, his father slept through this. Some days he screamed back.

After Severus met Lily, he would curl up under his covers, small, bug-like, and read through the comics she’d lent him with his hands pressed up over his ears. He wanted Professor X to come take him away. He wanted to be someone special, someone saved. He wanted a giant to burst through his door and frighten his mother and offer him a squashed birthday cake and a way out.

When Severus was fifteen, he slammed to his knees on the green Hogwarts quad. Laughter burrowed into his ears, like curses, like the nights his father screamed back, and when Lily stepped toward him he snapped, “I don’t need help from a Mudblood.”

When Severus slouched up to her door that summer, Lily didn’t invite him in. She leaned on the open frame of the door, arms crossed. He had so rarely seen Lily neither smiling or incandescent with rage, but she watched him with snakeskin eyes and a set mouth, still.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t–”

She twitched a strand of hair over her shoulder, the irritation the closest thing to an emotion he could spot on her. He was watching, desperate– this was Lily, she gave things away. She talked with her hands. He never felt lost, with her. “But why,” said Lily. “Why are you sorry? Because I’m upset, or because what you did was wrong?”

“I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“You did, and it’s not the point. I don’t care if it’s the part you care about, Sev, it’s not the part that matters. That was an awful thing to say– to say to anyone. You were cruel because you were scared and embarrassed, but Sev I could really care less. You were cruel.”

“I’m sorry,” he said again.

“Sorry’s not enough, Sev. Be fucking better.”

He jerked back and tried to turn it into some kind of laugh. “Language, careful, your mum might hear.”

She shrugged, and stepped back through the open door, and shut it in his face.

He spent the summer reading comic books, haunting the local library, then the local park once it’d closed, and then sneaking home when he was hopeful his parents would be asleep. He tried to think about bravery, but sometimes he just thought about Lily’s hair, the way it went more golden in summer. He tried to think about nobility, ethics and grace, but the clouds chased each other, fat and white, across the sky and he wasn’t sure what any of this had to do with him.

His father took him fishing by a dreary brown creek and they sat in silence. Severus could hear every creak of the rods, every lap of the water, every inhale and movement his father made. He thought maybe if he just said nothing, nothing ever, he’d never say anything again that made Lily’s face go so flat and distant. If he said nothing, maybe nothing would hurt.

His father reached back for a beer can in a swift movement and Severus froze himself unflinching. He sat in that silence afterward, slowing his heartbeat, picking apart the sudden rigid shell of his shoulders. His father hummed, cracking the can open like a gunshot.

He sat alone on the Hogwarts Express that year, stuffed in a compartment with a handful of second years who gave him half the seats while they giggled among themselves about the haircut of someone named Gertrude. Every summer’s end, for five years, he and Lily had boarded the train together, pressed their noses to the window glass, and watched the land rush by.

For the first month of school, Severus practiced pausing before he spoke, for seconds, minutes if he needed them. Sometimes he’d add an answer after the conversation had already moved on, bent over his mashed potatoes, weighing words as carefully as he weighed salamander eyes and mandrake root.

(If you crushed firedrake seeds with the flat of your blade, instead of cutting them, they made a more potent potion. The textbooks told you to stir six times counterclockwise to make Sleeping Draught, but he knew–because he had thought, and tried, and tried again–that if you did five counterclockwise and two clockwise the draught would turn that perfect turquoise and the sleep would be dreamless and sweet and deep. He kept notes in his textbook’s margins, because it helped to remember.)

In the second month, he tried to listen. People were starting to think about life after school, a big yawning chasm they were supposed to fill with themselves. People were starting to fall in love, puppyish and petty. People were starting to believe in the war, whispering, dreaming, fearing.

In the common room, one of the kids said something about Mudbloods and Severus’s head snapped up. He tried to imagine a shell growing into his shoulders, over his spine, covering all the soft parts of him. He wanted his covers, he wanted to shrink, he wanted Lily’s boxfuls of comics, but he rose to his feet and snapped back. Sometimes saying nothing hurt people, too. A small Muggleborn in green and silver ducked away to her dorm, clutching quietly at her sleeves.

For the third month, he tried to watch– not for warning sneers or cocky grins, clenched fists and broad shoulders, all the things he’d been watching for since before he could name them– but for the way shoulders might go rigid, the way fists might clench but hide, wishing for something to shield every soft part of them.

Severus was bony and pimply, sixteen years old and graceless in it, but he could be an interruption. He could mock with the best of them, flicking his brows and twisting his nose, and asking pointed questions. He could talk, smart-mouthed and snide, until the focus turned to him, and then he could survive anything they handed out. He could give as good as he got. The pauses were shorter, these days, before he spoke, but they would always be there, an echo offset from the shout, an avalanche that struck late and terrible.

When kids cried in bathrooms or empty classrooms or the library, he didn’t move to comfort them, though he heard them. He didn’t know how. He wrote his own curses, out in the forest where he could scar the trees in experiment, and they all turned out bloody. He loved few things, even Lily, as much as he loved pouring all of himself into his work, until something new and his own grew out of it. He wasn’t sure he’d ever invented something kind.

He didn’t try to find Lily, but he came back from the Forest once and almost tripped over her, half-napping in Hagrid’s pumpkin patch. He stumbled back into a gargantuan gourd while she pushed hair out of her face and peered up at him.

“I’m sorry,” he said, after a pause that rumbled and roiled in his gut, that he clung to with both hands, breathing into it and letting his shoulders go soft. “I’m sorry I said it. I’m sorry I made you feel small because I was feeling– small.”

Lily sat up a bit, in the little semi circle she’d built herself of books and scrolls and gobstones and snacks. She had built fairy circles like that, when they were children, of the flowers he’d transfigured for her.

“I’m sorry anyone has to feel that way, ever,” he said. “They shouldn’t. I’m angry anyone has to feel that way.”

“Me, too,” she said, and, fishing around in the detritus that surrounded her, handed him half a candy bar. “C'mon, you want some tea? Hagrid said he’d put a kettle on for me if I finished my Arithmancy.”

When Severus was in sixth year, Remus Lupin almost killed him on a moonlit night.

Severus had wanted answers, had wanted to get them in trouble, had wanted something a bit like vengeance, and Sirius had told him about the Whomping Willow. Sirius had grinned when he’d done it, small and bitter, and Severus had wondered if he was fighting with James again, wondering why else he’d sell out his friends.

“I didn’t think–” Sirius tried, the morning after, watching Remus across dry toast and cocoa, big juicy bowls of melon.

“You never do,” Remus snapped. (A bare handful of years later, standing in the smoldering ruins of James and Lily’s house, Remus would think about Sirius’s erratic gaze, the sharp edge of his voice, his last name, and wonder if he should have seen it coming. What here was premeditated? What was mischief? Sirius had once almost painted Remus’s own hands with red blood.)

But for now, Remus was sixteen and angry; he was sixteen and guilty of things that might have happened. He didn’t speak to Sirius for a month.

James refused to speak with Sirius, too, but he only lasted a week. Moony was sulking and Peter was busy studying his little heart out, and James got twitchy without proper and regular socialization.

“I’ll punch him in the nose,” said Lily, when Severus told her. She shifted where she sat cross-legged on the library table, like she might go off and hunt him down that second.

“Black doesn’t deserve the attention,” said Severus.

“Getting his ass kicked by a girl? That type of attention?”

“Getting his ass kicked by Lily Evans,” Severus said. “It’d be an honor and you know it.”

Reports of violence outside Hogwarts got worse. People were disappearing. People were whispering, fearing. The papers were ignoring the important things, and feeding off the fearmongering, or so Lily announced in the library while Severus was trying to study.

Alice and Lily had spent years sharing hissed rants in humid greenhouses. Over an undulating bed of luminescent deadly nightshade, Alice bent her head close to Lily’s and asked, “Have you heard of the Order of the Phoenix?”

Keep Reading (Ao3)

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The Pilgrim (Part 1)

This is the first half of a Zimbits soulmate AU, where you can feel the pull of your soulmate like a compass. This is a first draft, so no corrections have been made so far. I just wanted to throw it out there. There will be a second and final part to this- and I’ll do my best to write it soon. 




Dear Mama and Coach,

I’m sorry to leave with only a note, but this is something I have to do. I left for my pilgrimage. I know I’m way too young, but I couldn’t wait. … I think my soulmate is dying. I felt the pull stop for a full minute. It never happened before. I can’t wait another four years before seeking them! I hope you understand.

Also, I didn’t tell y’all because… I think my soulmate may be a man.

I hope you’re not too mad at me. I’ll call.

I love you both,

– Dicky


North. The pull had always pointed North. Sometimes, when Eric changed cities, he tried to triangulate the feel, but there was never enough difference in what he felt to pinpoint a precise location on a map. His soulmate could be in any of the states above Georgia, or- well, they could live further North. He wondered what would be worse for his parents, that his soulmate was a man, or that he was a Yankee.

He’d stressed about it for years but, now that he was stuck on a bus for who knew how long, he couldn’t stop worrying. He fidgeted with the cheap pilgrimage kit he’d bought at Atlanta. A map of the United States, a plastic ruler, a tiny pencil and a miserable looking compass that didn’t seem to point in the same direction if he shook it a bit. It was all he could afford, since the bus ticket from Madison to Atlanta, then Atlanta to… wherever, took most of his “borrowed” money.

That was another thing. His parents would be so mad when they noticed he took from his savings account. That money was supposed to go to his skating class- or more recently, his hockey equipment.

Maybe he could have asked. Maybe they’d understood, and offered more, and Coach would have lent him his own brass compass, the one inherited from his own father, the one he used to follow the pull until he found his own soulmate. Maybe his mother would have kissed him on the forehead and maybe she’d have offered to ride with him wherever the pull led him- North, North, always North…

But maybe not.

It wasn’t something Eric wanted to risk. The steadiness of the pull had stopped, for just a minute, maybe more, but that was enough to change Eric’s own life. He had someone, somewhere, whose soul was compatible with his- who was maybe a lover, a friend- and that someone’s life had blinked.

He held back his nervous tears, fidgeted with the compass once more.

(more under the cut)

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Pre-Kerberos! Matt HC

[Pre-Kerberos! Matt]

★ Matt is the whitest of the whites, he eats one hot chip and it’s game over.

★ He’s allergic to pickles

★ He got Katie into aliens and cryptids

  • He doesn’t regret it                                                                             

★ Him and Shiro were friends, even before the Garrison.

★ He’s a little shit, the Garrison teachers expected him to be the perfect student since he was Sam and Colleen’s son.

  • They were wrong, he started a black market and wasn’t found out until it was too late. He made more than $500 bucks cash.

★ Whenever he was called into the office to talk about his future he just answered with “Kick ass, go to space, represent the human race.”

The cost of losing a bet with him was high

  • Once a kid had to go up to Iverson and ask if he was a furry and if his boyfriend was bigfoot.
  • They were required to help Iverson for the rest of the year during their free hour.

★ Anytime anyone asked if him and Shiro were dating, he did finger guns and awkwardly backed away.

★ Has been the cause of the science lab blowing up at least 5 times.

  • Shiro was apart of three of them.

★ Puns were his shit no one could escape

  • Shiro does this make us…..Kerbros?”
  • “If it weren’t for the laws of this land, I would’ve slaughtered you, Matt.”

★ Would fight you if you said Pluto wasn’t a planet

★ Is the most oblivious of people, two kids had a crush on him at the same time and he never noticed

  • But he can somehow notice when people have crushes on each other??

★ He met Neil Degrasse Tyson once and cried

★ Katie and him show their love by roasting each other on the daily

★ “I know you love those peas, Dad.” was only the tip of the Yikesburg™ .

★ He dyed Shiro’s hair once

  • It went as well as expected
  • It was neon blue

★ He smuggled Pidge into the Garrison once with the help of Shiro

  • Keith found them dragging her through the window
  • He just stared silently and walked away

★ He can do a perfect Yoda impression

  • Katie sadly found out when she on the verge of sleep at 3am

★ Subs always liked him for some reason, no one really knew how or why though.

★ He could name all 206 bones in the human body, and he taught Keith how to break every one of them

★ Katie popped out the lens in his back-up prescription glasses

  • He cried

★ He can quote back to the future word for word

★ “What are you gonna do punch me???”

  • The kid decked him
  • He broke their leg

★ He threatened to sell Katie to the Garrison for a pizza

  • A guy’s gotta do what they gotta do to get some decent food

★ “How’d you do in your flight test, Matt?” “Oh, I nearly killed Shiro. it’s chill though.”

★ He cries whenever he sees dogs since the Garrison is in the middle of nowhere

  • He once cried for more dog deaths in three school days than his entire life

★ “Hey Matt, high-five the stars for me okay?” “Of course, Katie.”

  • She hasn’t found out if he did or not.

★ It was his idea to name their dog Gunther

  • “What the fuck, Matt” “It haS CHARACTER KATIE”

★ Him and his mom are kickass together.

  • Everyone is low-key terrified of them

★ He crashed his bike into a tree once

  • “Lol you guys will never guess what happened”
  • “What”
  • “My bone is no longer in my leg”

★ “Do you think Iverson and—” “I’m gonna stop you right there.”

★ He hacked the speakers in the Garrison to play Bill Nye the Science Guy when someone said he wasn’t a real scientist

★ Believes in the multiverse theory and soulmates

  • Maybe in some other universe him and Shiro are happy

★ He’s pan and poly, fight me   

  • Katie got him a shirt that read “Pans for Bigfoot”    
  • He wore it everywhere

★ He finished the office in a week and stares at a security camera whenever something stupid happens

★ Someone confessed to him once and he panicked and said “Thank you”

★ Matt is actually a super good crossdresser???

  • Shiro and Keith are surprised???
  • Katie had to get it from somewhere y’all

★ Lowkey likes to make fun of Keith for being Texan

  • “Y’all’d’ve done good if y’all had listened to me.”
  •  “I hate living because of you, Matt.”

★ Bill Nye the Science Guy is his dad and you can’t tell him otherwise.

  • He’ll fight you if you say he isn’t a real Scientist

★ MATT REALLY LIKES AVATAR: THE LAST AIRBENDER, LIKE I HAVEN’T EVEN SEEN IT BUT I KNOW HE DOES.

★ Him and Katie learned Latin for kicks

★ Speaks fluent meme

★ **Drops one piece of candy on his room floor** “,,,,,,,,” **Kneels down to look for it**

★ 10/10 doesn’t know how to handle any crushes he has

  • He realized he had a crush on Shiro with the “help” of Katie and Keith
  • He tried to eat an entire jar of pickles afterwards

★ “Matt, you have a crush on my brother, admit it” “New glasses, who dis?”

★ “Shiro, when I was your age,,,,,,” “One day, you’re just not going to wake up.”

★ He somehow convinced Shiro to dress up as Watson while he was Sherlock

★ Hamilton’s number 1 fan

★ He spits out facts at random

  • “Y’know Alexander Hamilton spelt Philadelphia wrong in our Constitution?” 
  • Katie, who has been running on 3 hours of sleep: please shut tf up

★ “You’re a little shit Matt” “Atleast I don’t quote Fairy Tail any chance i get”

★ Matt: THIS BITCH EMPTY 
★ Katie, grabbing his backpack full of assignments from the Garrison: Y E E T

★ He hates coffee but will drink 5 cans of soda in an hour

★ “YOOOOO I TELL YOU WHAT I WANT WHAT I REALLY WANT” “SO TELL ME WANT WHAT YOU REALLY WANT” “I WANNA–”

  • Sam Holt voice: Please,,,,just go to sleep”

★ He’s a Gryffindor

★ Someone bet him that he couldn’t eat 2 of the new Grand Macs

  • He ate 4, Katie ate 5
  • Everyone was impressed and low-key terrified

★ Shiro: bro take off your glasses
★ Matt: bro everything’s a blur
★ Shiro: that’s my life without you
 Matt, tearfully: Bro… 

Iverson: any questions?
Matt: Yeah, first of all, how dare you?

★ “Would you slap Katie for $2,000?” “I’d break both of Katie’s arms and my own leg for a small fry from McDonald's”

★ Shiro gave him one of his sweaters when it was cold out once

  • Shiro hasn’t seen it since

★ He had an emo phase that lasted 2 months before he got tired of the eyeliner

  • Katie likes to bring it up at the worst times

He’s covered in bandaids 90% of the time

  • Most times it’s because he and Katie were fucking around while building smth

★ “The amount of uses for a dead horse is infinite” “Matt, honestly, just go to church”

★ His mind is just a constant loop of that scene in VeggieTales where the realized they didn’t have hands and just sadly looked at each other

★ “KATIE POKEMON PIDGEOTTO HOLT

★ Mashed potatoes can and should fuck him up

★ Learned to play the kazoo for meme opportunity

★ Once burnt off one of his eyebrows from boiling water

★ Him and Katie do the handshake thing from Zack and Cody

★ Whenever someone asks to see a picture of Katie, he just pulls out a picture of Pidgey from Pokémon

  • Matt: Isn’t she pretty?

★ He beat every island in poptropica

★ He can make really nice flower crowns nobody has questioned it

★ He talks with his hands a lot

  • He’s hit Keith in the face more than once because of it

★ You know when it snowed in Egypt for the first time in years and that guy had that giant ass snowball and was gonna fucking dunk it on his friend?

  • That’s Matt

★ He can dance?? Where did he learn it? Nobody knows

★ “Keith I came as soon as i heard! I can’t believe it I knew you two were close”
★“Wtf are you talking about?”
★“Punk is dead, Keith”

★ When the rumour that MCR was coming back you bet your ass Matt was ready to blast every song whenever he saw Keith

★ “I’m Matt, the radar technician”

★ He recreated BB-8 from Star Wars: The Force Awakens and cried

★ “Bitch, I am a gift of God, square up”

  • Get it? Because Matthew means gift of God??

★ He can solve a rubix cube behind his back in under 35 seconds

★ If he laughs hard enough he’ll start snorting

  • 50% of the time he won’t notice because he’s too busy laughing
  • The other 50% he’ll stop and frown in disgust at his own snort

★ He found out Shiro poured his milk in before the cereal and kicked him out their dorm

Matt: Hey, Shiro, want to stay for dinner?
Colleen: Do you want to stay forever?

★ Iverson lowkey reminds him of Snape, so by default he just doesn’t like him

★ “Work, work!” “Matthew!”
    “Work, work!” “Katherine!”
    “,,,,,and Keith”
    “The conspiracy theorists!”

★ Unlike his sister, he likes to garden and starts one in their backyard with their mom

★ Matt would totally force Shiro to cosplay Team Rocket for Halloween with Pidge being Meowth and Keith being an edgier version of Ash Ketchum

  • Shiro as Jessie and Matt as James of course

★ He owns every pokemon game in existence

  • Pokemon Snap was his shit when he was like 7
  • He 360 noscoped the Pokemon with apples

★ Has read all of the Harry Potter books three times

★ He tried to teach Shiro how to dance

  • They never finished though because neither of them could take the sexual tension

★ He was more into the galaxies and multiple universes part of space, while Katie was excited for the tech advances 

  • They were both 100% ready for aliens though

★ Shiro told him he couldn’t create the Marauders Map, so he did out of spite

★ Talked in nothing but Shakespeare for a day to piss off Katie

★ He loved ducktales

  • Too bad he can’t see the reboot

★ Barbie and the 12 dancing princesses was his shit

★ When Katie was born, he brought a potato with him when he went to the hospital to compare the two

★ He always wore sweaters that didn’t quite fit him, so he could have Sweater Paws

★ There was a supposed ‘haunted’ house on his street, so him Katie and the Broganes all snuck out to investigate

  • A window broke while they were in there
  • Keith shapeshifted into Sonic and bolted, Katie started hysterically crying and laughing at the same time as she ran, and Matt jumped into Shiro’s arm and Shiro fuckin’ booked it
  • They all agreed not to talk about it

★ Once in gym, a ball was about to hit someone in the face but instead of yelling “duck!” he yelled “dICK”

  • To this day no one has let him live it down

★ Uses an absurd amount of emoticons when texting

★ 10/10 would meme again

★ Used the word “Yo” too many times to count

★ Tried to bury Katie underneath a bunch of snow when she was 10

★ He can’t swim

★ He’s cried during nearly every Disney and Pixar movie


[Read Part Two// Post-Kerberos! Matt HC here!]

Promises (Part One)

Requested by Anonymous

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Synopsis: Peter Parker is your best friend (and crush), although you don’t know he’s Spider-Man yet. One day, you’re attacked by The Vulture and badly hurt.

Word count: 1,472

Warnings: Some violence and mention of blood.

Tags: @thisisthelilith @idroppedthefries @avengers-earths-mightiest-heroes

A/N: I’m still shook about spiderman: homecoming, the avengers: infinity war trailer (that i didn’t even get to see smh), and I recently found out that infinity wars was being filmed in Queens A WEEK before I was planning to visit NYC…so I’ve been working on this request to calm me down lol. I have way too many feelings about Marvel atm. Someone please help me 🙃 (Also, I’m turning this request into multiple parts because I had way too many ideas for it and it was about to be way too long)

(Part Two)


“Hey, you,” You heard from behind your locker door.              

The voice scared you so much that you slammed your locker shut in panic. When you saw who it was, your cheeks turned bright crimson.

“Jesus, Peter. You scared the shit out of me.”

Peter just grinned, amused that he was able to fluster you without even trying.

“Sorry. Why so jumpy today?” he asked with a chuckle.

“I don’t know. I just woke up feeling kind of weird today. It’s no big deal. What are you doing after school today? Ned told me he got the Lego Deathstar set.”

Peter raised an eyebrow and leaned against the locker beside you. Your quick change of subject and flustered rambling couldn’t trick him. He knew something was wrong with you, but he decided to bypass it for now. He didn’t want to make you talk about something you didn’t want to talk about, so he just shook his head and carried on with the conversation as if everything was normal.

“I heard. I wish I could help you guys build it, but I got the Stark internship after school.”

You rolled your eyes and copied his pose, your shoulder falling hard against your locker.

“You always have the Stark internship. Doesn’t he ever let you take a break?”

Peter chuckled again.

“Uh, not really. No. It’s okay though, I like it.”

You were still annoyed, but you didn’t want to crap all over something Peter loved. So you just gave him a little fake smile instead.

“I’m glad you enjoy it. Ned and I will miss you though.”

Peter gave you one of his little appreciative half-smiles.

“I’ll miss you, too. Uh, both of you… I mean,” He rubbed the back of his neck uncomfortably. “Anyways, can I walk you out?”

You nodded and the both of you headed towards the front entrance of Midtown High.

You and Peter had parted ways a while back on your journey home. You felt a little antsy walking alone in Queens, and Peter was reluctant to leave you alone, but you convinced him that you would be fine. You kept checking your phone nervously, waiting for Ned to text you back about the plan for that night. When you looked up, you realized that you didn’t even know where you were walking anymore. You stopped and looked around. There was an ominous feeling in the air – the same creepy feeling you got when you woke up this morning. Something bad was about to happen. You could feel it.

You spun around, and just as you did, you saw a winged creature swooping down to grab you. The last thing you saw before you blacked out was a pair of mechanical talons gripping your shoulders.

When you woke up, your vision was blurry. You tried to sit up, but when you did, your body was wracked with pain. You fell back to the ground and hit your head on the pavement, worsening your anguish. When you reached back to cradle it, you felt something warm and sticky on your hands. You tried to lift your other arm, but couldn’t. You tried and failed to move your legs as well. You didn’t know what happened to you, but you knew that it was bad. You lay still, waiting for the pain to stop when you saw a blurry figure running to you.

“Y/N!” You heard the figure scream, and you knew at once that it was Peter.

But you were out before you could even say his name.

… 

Beep…Beep…Beep.

The first thing you heard before you opened your eyes was the steady beeping of the heart monitor next to you. The next thing was worried voices speaking next to you.

“She’s going to be alright, kid. It’ll take her a while to get there, but she’s going to be alright.”

“You don’t get it, Tony. I let this happen. Me. This whole thing is my fault.”

As soon as you recognized the second voice as Peter’s, you knew you had to open your eyes for him. It took all of the strength in your body, but finally your eyes fluttered open. You tried to say something comforting to him, but nothing came out. Instead, you made a grunting noise and tried to reach out for him.

Peter immediately kneeled down next to you and put an arm on your shoulder.

“Y/N? Are you okay? Wait, no, don’t try to talk. Or move. Just…thank god you’re okay.”

“P…Peter. W-what…happened?” You struggled to ask.

Peter just stared at you with a pained expression.

“It’s…complicated. You got hurt. But you’re going to be okay now.”

You turned your gaze to Tony Stark, who was standing sullenly in the corner of the room.

“Why is he here? Where am I?”

Tony stepped forward and gripped the footboard of your hospital bed.

“You’re in Avengers Tower. In the medical bay.”

“What? Why aren’t I in a real hospital? Where’s my parents…?”

You shifted uncomfortably under your sheets, trying to sit up, but stopped abruptly and groaned when you felt a sharp pain in your ribs. Peter pressed gently on your shoulder to keep you from moving.

“I wouldn’t do that, Y/N.”

“Why am I here? And where are my parents?” You asked again sharply, starting to fully regain your voice.

“Your parents are on their way here. And, uh, you’re here because… well, because…”

“Because Peter reached out to me for help when he found you. We’ve got the best and brightest working here. You’re in very good hands,” Tony interrupted.

“Yeah, exactly. Plus he offered to keep you here for free so your parents won’t have to pay any medical bills. He’s been really helpful with all of this.”

You relaxed back into your pillows, staring at Tony with a questioning look.

“Thank you, Tony,” you mumbled, not buying that that was the whole story.

“No problem. Any friend of Peter’s is a friend of mine. I should go, but Peter here will take excellent care of you. It was a pleasure to meet you, Y/N. I’m just sorry it had to be under these circumstances.”

With that, he patted Peter roughly on the shoulder, gave him a look over the rim of his glasses, and walked out the door.

“What was that about?” You questioned Peter.

“Nothing. It’s fine.”

He put both of his elbows on the edge of your bed, balling his fists together and resting them against his lips. He was thinking very hard about something.

“Peter… don’t think for one second that I’m going to give up asking about what’s going on. I’m not stupid. I know something bad happened, and I need to know what it was,” You croaked.

Peter looked into your eyes, and you could tell he knew you were right. He had to tell you, no matter how hard it was for him. He sighed loudly and got up to pull up a chair beside you.

“Okay. Uh, I don’t really know how to say this…but, uh, you were attacked. By The Vulture. Do you know who that is?”

You furrowed your eyebrows, searching your brain for any prior knowledge you had of who that could be. When you finally remembered seeing him on the news a few times, you nodded slowly.

“Spider-Man fought him a couple of times, right?”

Peter nodded at the floor, not able to look you in the eyes.

“Ned called me and said you never texted him back. He seemed really worried, so I started walking to your house to see if you were there. And then on the way I saw him… and I found you. Just laying there in an alley. I was so scared. I thought that I was too late. I thought I lost you, Y/N.”

He looked so upset that it took everything in your power not to sit up and wrap your arms around him. Instead, you rested your hand on top of his. It was all you could muster. Peter sniffled a little bit and gave you a weak smile.

“I don’t understand, Peter. What would The Vulture want with me?”

Peter looked up at you and shook his head slowly.

“I…don’t know, Y/N. I’m so sorry.”

He looked like he was almost in as much pain as you, so you intertwined your fingers with his in an attempt to comfort him further.

“Why are you sorry? This isn’t your fault, Peter.”

He smiled again, but he still looked tormented.

“I’m never going to let anything bad happen to you again,” he whispered, tightening his grip on your hand. “I promise.”

You smiled at him sleepily. Feeling your cheeks beginning to burn, you cleared your throat and released his hand.

“So…Avengers Tower, huh? Do you think you could get Black Widow to pay me a visit?”

Harry Fake Dates Kendall but is in Love With You

A/n: This is an updated version of an imagine I’ve previously uploaded. I know Hendall is so 2015. I get it.

Masterlist linked in bio.


The red wine leaves a particular stain on Harry’s lips that he hadn’t noticed until Kendall pointed it out to him.

“It looks like you’re wearing lipstick” she laughs, “I didn’t know you were going to dress up this much for the party.”

They are currently sat at his mum’s kitchen island, drinking red wine while munching on some chips left out for the guests. The house is filled with familiar faces, friends and family all throughout London coming together for Anne’s birthday celebration.

They hosted one every year for as long as Harry could remember, a time of year where nearly every one of his family members, including his step family, would unite. It was their favorite time of year, believe it or not. Despite all the excitement for the holidays, Anne’s birthday celebration was certainly something special.

It was Kendall’s first time attending, considering the fact that Harry had only really talked to her whenever he was assigned to be with her for publicity. It wasn’t always ideal, however, he built a stable friendship with her, so he didn’t mind the extra company with him from time to time.

She was invited last minute, of course, since his management called last night to ask if there was any way for them to be seen together. With Harry’s new movie coming out and his solo album just released a couple weeks ago, it was almost a given for him to be rumored with a girlfriend. That’s how it’s worked all throughout his career.

He normally wouldn’t have minded, however, this was the worst possible date for him to be with Kendall.

Because it’s Anne’s birthday party, this means that it’ll be the first time in one year that he’ll be seeing Y/n. They have been best friends since they were five years old, basically growing up in the same house as they went through school together. But as time went on, and as they both went to their separate ways, it was hard to keep in touch with each other all the time.

She remained in the small towns of London while Harry was traveling world wide, where his name became known everywhere as Y/n’s was only known through people she attended school with. Of course, they still talked, considering they both admitted to having more than friendship feelings, but their lives were busy in their own ways, preventing them from being more than what they wanted to be.

For the past couple months, Harry planned that this would be the day he’d finally move forward with Y/n. Or, at least attempt to. With the loss of her over the past year, it made Harry realize just how much he couldn’t imagine a life without her. It had been so long—too long, and he couldn’t stand how long he’s lived without keeping in touch with her.

But now, everything he planned for the two of them is becoming impossible. He can’t begin to imagine how Y/n would feel knowing he brought Kendall to his mum’s birthday party after they both confessed their love for each other. In all honesty, he wouldn’t blame her for giving up on him. He keeps doing this to her, even if it’s unintentional.

He watches around the kitchen at the guests he hasn’t seen in quite a while. His leg bounces with impatience when each new person walking in to attend the party isn’t Y/n. It’s been nearly an hour and has never been so late to anything before.

And as horrible as it sounds, he almost wishes she doesn’t come, just so that she can avoid the heartbreak that will come when she reunites with Kendall again.

“I’m sorry I’m late!”

Harry’s head whips around when he hears the voice he’s been deprived of for the past year. The first thing he notices are her lips, and the way they move around her words so softly. They’re slightly glazed with a lipgloss, painting her lips with a rosy shade of pink. They look so much fuller to him now, but he knows not a trace of them are artificial.  

His eyes only drift from the shape of her lips when her fingers reach to tuck loose pieces of hair behind her ear. It’s then he notices just how much shorter her hair has gotten. What was once so long and lank is now falling just above the shoulder, set in luscious curls he can only imagine twisting around his fingers.

His jaw goes slack when he sees the pale pink dress she’s wearing. It’s made from silk, the metallic fabric glowing with each step she takes. He gulps when he notices just how much the dress accentuates the curvature of her body and how much of her legs are put on display for him to see, and he can’t help but to wipe the sweat off his palms when he watches her greet his mother with a proper kiss on the cheek.

He notices that his eyes haven’t shut since he’s seen her, but he’s so completely intrigued by how much has changed in her. Something about her seems so much more real—so much more vibrant—and he can’t seem to stop himself from praising how time has done her so goddamn well.

“You never told me she was going to be here.“

His body jerks at Kendall’s sudden appearance, her body slowly occupying the seat next to his at the kitchen island. If it wasn’t for her, he swears he would have caught himself drooling.

“Didn’t think I had to,” he says with a shrug, “she’s been my best friend since we were five. She’s basically apart of this family, she wouldn’t have missed this for the world.”

Y/n hasn’t missed a single one of Anne’s birthday celebrations since she’s known Harry. Their bond is irreplaceable—so irreplaceable, in fact, that Anne has been convinced Y/n is a miracle for their family. She was there for them through all the troubled times; helping them through their hardships and family instabilities.

When Anne and her husband first got divorced, Harry and Y/n were seven. Harry didn’t understand much of what was happening, all he knew was that his mum and dad weren’t going to love each other anymore. He was hurting, even when Gemma was there to try and keep him together. He started to believe everything between his parents was a lie.

She understood the whole separation process. Her mum left her at a young age, leaving her alone with her father. They were close, of course, but she always missed having a mother figure in her life. It made her upset to know she could only listen to one voice in the house, but as she grew older, she accepted it more.

By the time she met Harry, he kept bringing her over to his house as the years went on. Anne was the closest she had to mother, and their bond became unbreakable by the time Y/n was a teenager. Nearly seven years of Y/n being like another member of the family, Y/n started buying Anne Mother’s Day cards.

So when Y/n watched her second family fall apart, along with Anne’s heart, and she was determined to patch them back together again. Even at her young age, she’d pick flowers from her garden and give them to Anne everyday after school. Y/n said they represented her, and how she felt being a woman with such love and beauty could die all too quickly. Harry never understood what it meant, but Y/n did, which is why she never stopped until she heard Anne laughing again.

She also started to draw pictures and write her letters, reminding her of how loved she was by everyone. As much as Anne was heartbroken during the time, she took the letters everywhere she went and kept every flower alive for as long as she possibly could. Anne would always tell Harry “That girl came into our lives for a reason, my love. She’s a special one, our little miracle, never let her go. You hear me?”

Harry didn’t understand what it truly meant to let someone go, but he did his best to do anything but that. And now, as Harry sits on his mother’s kitchen island and seeing Y/n for the first time in a year, he feels he’s done just that.

“Guess not.” Kendall mutters, taking her last sip of the red wine left in her glass. “She’s just so strange, I guess. I can barely hold a conversation with her without her making an excuse to leave.”

Kendall and Y/n never really got along, it was extremely noticeable to everyone who held a conversation with the both of them. They just don’t see things in the same light. Y/n is very outgoing and lively; an extreme extrovert that seeks adventure—and Kendall can’t stand it. She thinks Y/n does it for attention, especially because she’s remained a small town girl while being surrounded by well-known celebrities. And even though it may seem like Y/n likes the attention, that’s not her purpose. She gives all her attention to others, never to herself, and it has always been something Harry loved the most.

And when it comes to Y/n, Kendall was that one thing that was constantly in her way of Harry. No matter how many times Harry and Y/n discussed how there was something between them, Kendall always found her way back to haunt her. She was her worst goddamn nightmare. She was perfect for Harry in the public eye, and nothing made Y/n feel worse than knowing she’ll never be her type of perfect, especially when it came to Harry.

But Kendall doesn’t know that. All she knows is that Y/n is extremely stand-offish with her, and she’ll never understand why.

“She’s not used to our lives. It’s extremely difficult for her to understand how we live, you know? She’s normal.”

Kendall scoffs, eyes rolling around the room because she hates that word. She feels so divided, like she’s in a categorization in society and everything about it makes her teeth clench.

“We’re normal, too, you know. I don’t understand why she feels so intimated and feels like she has something to prove.”

Harry’s jaw clenches slightly at the negative connotes Kendall has about Y/n’s life. Something about it makes his stomach twist the wrong way, and he can’t help the underlying growl in between his words.

“We’re not normal. Deep down, you and I both know that. You also don’t know Y/n, so stop making irrational assumptions about her.”

Kendall narrows her eyes at Harry, a gaze full of confusion and disbelief at the undeniable grumble in his tone. Any rational conversation they have about Y/n always end the same—with Harry quick to end the discussion and jump to her defense. It’s times like these Kendall never understood the true extent of Harry and Y/n’s relationship. They always claimed it was platonic but there has always been a sense of something stronger in them, like unaddressed or unchased feelings, or a past they shared that was kept between the two.

Either way, it annoyed the shit out of Kendall because they both were hiding something that she’ll never be able to get answered.

“Fine, whatever.” She sighs dramatically, scooting her chair back until she has room to stand properly. “Want some more wine? Getting some.”

Harry slides his empty wine glass so that it’s in front of her, muttering a small “yeah, thanks” before she’s on her way to the counter across the room, retrieving extra wine and mingling with some of Harry’s family.

Harry sighs while his head rests at the palm of his hand, eyes gazing directly to where Y/n is standing. His lips tug up lightly when he hears her laugh from the living room, his tongue running over his bottom lip ever so slightly as he watches her mouth lift and her eyes squint shut as she catches up with one of his uncles about his grand annual weekend fishing trip.

And as his eyes stay so transfixed on the woman in the other room, he can’t help but imagine seeing that type of perfection every day for the rest of his life.

“And everyone thinks Sweet Creature is about me..”

Harry’s head snaps to Gemma’s figure leaning over the edge of the island, her elbows hitched on the counter as a small smirk plays on her lips. She found it abnormally amusing how he didn’t even acknowledge her presence until she spoke, too invested in hawking over Y/n’s every move.

Harry grumbles, but the smile from Y/n’s laughter is permanent on his lips when he does so. Gemma even notices his cheeks brighten with pink, another hint of confirmation to the words she spoke.

“Shut up, Gem.“

She puts her arms up defensively, “Hey, don’t take it out on me. I’m just making an observation.”

Harry rolls his eyes as Gemma wraps her arm around his neck, hunching over so that her lips are close to his ear and eyes are directed toward Y/n again.

“She has gotten hotter, hasn’t she?”

She has no idea. All Harry can think about is how someone already so beautiful has grown to be so perfect. Everything about her makes Harry want to get down on his knees and worship every inch of her body. He has to bite down on his bottom lip to stop himself from thinking how much of a wreck he wants to make out of her.

“I don’t know how she did it. You better get her while you still have the chance, I know many, many men who want a taste of her.”

No is the first thing Harry thinks when the words leave from Gemma’s mouth. As hypocritical and selfish as it is, knowing other men have shown an interest in her makes his skin crawl. And he can’t help but feel his throat tighten at the moment Y/n realizes he had brought Kendall to this party.

“Is she—“ he can’t even finish his sentence without his jaw tightening again, hindering the rest of his question from leaving his lips.

“Oh, quit your worrying, H. She’s single, I don’t think she’d ever date someone who isn’t you. Besides, I don’t think you can do much about it with Kendall here.”

Gemma lifts a finger to where Kendall is standing, still in the same spot as she talks to his aunt Leslie. His heart hurts knowing what Y/n will feel when she finds out. He knows that there is always a part of her that feels discouraged whenever there’s a new woman in his life. In between Harry and Y/n’s love for each other was a mix of false hopes and miscommunication, and it always fucked them up whenever anything else was put in their way.

Gemma pats his shoulder before making rounds to her family and friends again, leaving Harry slumped against the counter with not a drop of wine to numb his scrambling mind.

When Y/n finishes catching up with the rest of Harry’s family, she finds that her patience is wearing thin. It’s been a year since she’s seen the love of her life, and knowing that he’s somewhere near her is enough to get her heart racing.

When she sees him sitting alone at the kitchen island, wearing his infamous pink suit and staring down at his fingers, it’s as if her body starts to malfunction. Her legs stop moving and her lips part, eyes glistening with admiration as she sees him for the first time in so long.

He’s as beautiful as ever, his new haircut accentuating his facial structure. His lips seem so much more red, too, which are complimented greatly by that goddamn suit. Everything about him radiates, like he’s developed into a whole other person. She’ll never quite grasp the idea that she’s about to reunite with him; something about it makes her palms sweat.

“Hey, stranger.”

Harry lifts his head up to look at her in all her glory. His heart warms at her presence more than the wine did, and he can’t help but to take a breath of relief when he finally hears her voice again.

“Y/n.” He breathes out, his fingers instinctively reaching up to the ends of her cut hair.

He chokes out a laugh of admiration when he sees her this close to him. She is so much different—so much more perfect than he ever remembers her being and it takes his breath away.

His fingers twist her hair, wrapping them around the digits before letting the strands fall back in place again. He never saw her without her hair down to her waist, and now that he has, he never wants to see her hair past her shoulders again.

“It’s so beautiful” he whispers, “you look so beautiful like this, Y/n. I absolutely love it.”

She blushes, her chin tucking slightly into her neck as if trying to hide how much of a reaction he got out of her. No matter how many years she’s known him, she was never used to the way he spoke to her.

“It was spontaneous. Really wanted a change, and it looks like I’m not the only one.”

Her hands reach to his hair, which is so much shorter compared to the last time she saw him. She remembered she couldn’t keep her hands out of it last year, constantly finding ways to tangle her fingers at the ends. Harry found it hysterical, actually, and thought it was the cutest thing she’s ever done.

“It’s just so soft” she’d say, “it’s like a whole other world in there!”

But now her only option is to tangle her fingers at the roots, and as she does so, her mind drifts to all the other occasions she could have her hands in his hair again.

“It’s so much shorter. Look at that! I can barely tug on it anymore!” She laughs in amusement, her fingers slipping as she pulls too hard.

He smirks up at her, a giggle falling from his lips as he watches her utterly amused reaction. They begin to catch up with the part of their lives they both have missed. Harry talked about his album while Y/n started discussing her new journalism job.

Talking to Y/n is one of the only normal parts of him left, it always gave him a sense of grounding whenever he felt his career was taking off to heights he wasn’t ready for. She is one of the only sense of normality he has left in his life, and it’s another reason as to why he admires her so dearly. She brought out parts of him nobody else could reach, and it’s another reason why he feels so upset he’s barely talked to her.

“Y/n?” he asks hesitantly, reaching his hand over so that his fingertips graze her hand.

Her breath breaks when he touches her, the softness in his voice proving that what is about to be discussed is far more important than their previous conversation. She notices the stress lines in between his forehead and the parting of his wine stained lips when he begins to speak. 

“I’m so sorry I haven’t kept in touch with you. I know how it makes me look, especially after everything that happened between us. With the new album and everything, I’ve just been so busy with—“

“Kendall?”

Harry’s head jumps to where Y/n stares dumbfounded, Kendall holding two glasses of wine in one hand while the other is carrying a plate of chicken wings. She’s looking down at Y/n, too, her eyebrows lifted up in an intimidating manner. There’s a scowl present on her lips as she continues to tower over her.

Y/n feels tears building in her eyes as she takes in the situation at hand. She was so fucking dumb to think that Harry was going to come to Anne’s party alone, especially since his new album just released. This is Kendall’s prime time appearance, when Harry needs a familiar famous face beside him to advertise his solo career.

This isn’t anything new—this isn’t anything unfamiliar, but the pain feels like a fresh wound to her heart. Harry and Y/n are nearly 24, with having known each other and felt something for each other for years, she thought that if anything were going to happen, it was going to happen now. But everything between them has remained stagnant for so long that the last sliver of hope she had for their potential relationship has been completely taken away from her. By Kendall, again.

“W—Wow, I’m sorry. I didn’t—I didn’t know Harry had invited you.”

“Yeah,” Kendall nods, “he invited me last night.”

Last night.

Y/n’s lips purse together, nodding her head as her eyes drift around the kitchen. Anything to avoid Kendall’s eyes—anything to feel as unimportant as she does now.

Harry’s eyes squeeze shut, a small hissing releasing from his tongue at how wrong it all sounds, considering absolutely nothing happened between Harry and Kendall the previous night besides being demanded that the two of them are to be seen together again.

“Right,” Y/n’s voice cracks, “well, I’m sorry to interrupt your time together. I’m going to go to Gemma’s room, got a phone call from my dad a while ago so I should go check up on him. I’ll see you guys around.”

She musters up a pathetic smile before practically running away from them. After everything they both told each other, after all the feelings they’ve had toward each other, how could Harry keep doing this to her? How could he keep being with Kendall when he says he loves Y/n?

She doesn’t even find the strength in her to hold in her tears before she approaches the steps, not daring to look back at them again. She never wants to see them in the same room again, it’ll be too much her heart can handle. 

“You’ve really got to be fucking kidding me, Kendall.” Harry growls.

His hands fist around the wine glass, his knuckles turning white and he’s absolutely shocked it hasn’t shattered into pieces in his hands from all the anger pulsing through his veins.

Jesus, Harry, neither one of you can take a joke. Does she not understand that all of this is for the press? She keeps acting like we’re a couple.”

“Could you really blame her after that? ‘He invited me last night,’ you’re really getting a kick out of making her uncomfortable, aren’t you?”

He grumbles as he takes a long sip of his wine, hoping that the alcohol loosens his muscles enough to restrain himself from doing anything he regrets. He loves his mum too much to start an argument during her birthday party, and as much as Kendall’s shifting Harry’s mood, he still appreciates her as a friend to ruin anything.

“That wasn’t even my fault, you both dug into that way too deep. Last night does not mean while we were fucking. It’s a time of day.”

“It’s the way you said it.”

“Are you being serious, Harry?”

He slams his glass down on the island, grumbling under his breath while he stands up from his chair. No matter how much anger is in him now, the only thoughts swirling in his brain are wondering if Y/n’s okay. She would have never left the party to go into a secluded room, not even if her dad called her.

“You leave her the fuck alone, Kendall. I mean it.”

He storms away from her, desperate to find Y/n because God only knows what’s really happening in that bedroom. Y/n’s emotions and feelings are always positive, always so bright, and he refuses to be the reason they turn upside down. She doesn’t deserve all he keeps doing to her, she doesn’t deserve him.

When Harry nearly swings himself onto the first step, he can already hear the soft murmur of Y/n’s and Anne’s voice, which makes him stop from approaching them any more than he has already.

“Y/n? Y/n, darling?” Anne asks with worry when she sees Y/n climbing up the top step with tears in her eyes, soft cries falling from her throat as her hand attempts to silence them.

She reaches an arm out for her, tugging at the front of Y/n’s dress slightly to get her attention. She’s grateful it was Anne who found her this way instead of any other guest at the party, considering nobody besides her and Harry have seen her with a frown on her face.

“Y/n, baby, what’s going on with you?”

The lights are off in the hallway, with no guests permitted in the area, which gives Y/n the proper time to fully allow her tears to fall down her cheeks.

“I’m so s—sorry, Anne.” Y/n cries.

Anne’s hands rub her shoulders, reassuring her that there’s absolutely nothing for her to apologize for. It also lets her know that she’s willing to listen to her, no matter where or when—she’ll always be there.

“I’m almost 24, Anne, and I’ve put so much of my life on hold for him.”

She knows instantly who Y/n’s talking about. It wasn’t difficult to notice the undying connection between Y/n and her son, especially as the years went on. They have grown so strongly together, there has never been a doubt in Anne’s mind that Y/n is going to be the girl Harry ends up marrying. Everyone in the family called it a destiny waiting to happen, but it has been so long since anything has happened between them, and Anne can’t help but feel heartbroken to know Y/n’s carrying the wrong idea about him and Kendall.

“And I’ve sacrificed so m—much to continue waiting for him, but I don’t think I can keep doing this anymore. We’re nowhere near where we should be, especially when he keeps spending time with Kendall and I just—I just don’t know if I can—“

“Oh, my darling.” Anne sighs, cradling Y/n’s head against her shoulder as she rubs down her back.

She shushes her through her tears, rocking her slightly in an attempt to calm her from her cries. It’s extremely rare for Y/n to feel upset, so when she does so, Anne knows she deserves all the comfort and love she can get.

“I know you so well, and I know my son. I always knew you were a match made in heaven, my dear. I knew from the start you were more than just an ordinary girl. You’re so special, to everyone in our family, but especially to him. He may not have his head screwed on right most of the time, but if I can promise you anything with all my heart, it’s that he loves you. Please, no matter what, never forget that.”

Y/n nods against her shoulder, thanking her through her violent cries before Anne insists she takes some time to herself. And as much as Y/n wanted to refrain from going into Harry’s bedroom, it’ll be the only place that brings her a sense of comfort.

Harry already knows he’s in for a lecture the second he sees his mum coming down the stairs with bewildered eyes. She grips his shoulders, her face tight with frustration.

“Mum—“

“You go over to her and you be the man I taught you to be, Harry.”

Harry’s eyes widen at her words, swallowing thickly at the thought of disappointing another person in his life.

“She loves you and you love her. Stop doing favors for other people and start thinking about you before you ruin both of your lives forever. You hear me?”

Harry nods feverishly, determined and more motivated than ever to fix all that he’s caused. Love comes first, always, and he needs to remember that before he breaks Y/n’s heart completely.

She’s it. She’s all that matters to him.

He barely responds to Anne before he’s racing to his old bedroom, completely clueless as to what he’s going to say, but willing to do anything to get her back.

“Y/n?” Harry calls through the door of his old bedroom. “Y/n, can I come in?” 

He knocks on the door lightly, just using the knuckles of his pointer and middle finger. He hears her feet pad over to the door, opening it to reveal her tear stained cheeks. Her hands are trembling against the knob, her breath broken with soft, gentle cries. Her eyes are widened with sadness, wet and red from tears she barely ever cries.

“Y/n.” He whimpers, tentatively reaching his shaking fingers up to her cheeks. He wipes away the tears from the bottoms of her eyes, sighing upsettingly as her eyes close at his touch. “Never seen you like this. Please talk to me.”

Her lips quiver as another sob rips through her, her hand reaching up to capture his between her fingers. Her saddened and wet eyes looking down at the intertwined hands now resting against her lap.

“I’m so tired, H.” She whimpers, “So tired.”

His lips press against her forehead, “I know, love. I know.”

She wraps her arms around him, her face burying in between his chest as he lets her tears soak in his undershirt.

“I couldn’t take it anymore. I thought I’d finally be alone with you after all this time. I missed being close to you, I wanted to be closer to you and I thought you felt the same about me and I didn’t understand, Harry, I didn’t get it and—“


“Hey, relax for me.” Harry mumbles, his lips grazing tenderly along her cheek.

She takes a deep breath, her fingers fisting the back of his suit tighter in her fists. She rests her chin on the top of his chest, tears still roaming down her face as she lets out an exasperated sigh. Her fingertips trace patterns on his back, her eyes fluttering closed as he pushes some of her hair off of her face, refraining them from sticking to her wet cheeks.

“I didn’t get it,” she whispers, “I was so confused, and when you didn’t answer my calls or texts I thought you didn’t find me important. And I was under no right to be upset about it, because you’re busy and you have priorities. But when I saw you today, I didn’t see you as the Harry I always have, I still can’t tell you what I saw but I wanted every part of you more than I ever have before. But when I saw Kendall I—“

Her cries and words die down when she feels Harry’s tender lips against hers. She’s taken aback at first, and before she has any time to really kiss him back, he’s already pulled away.

“Let me fix this.” He breathes out, “let show you that I only want you.”

His lips press against the side of her mouth, not allowing himself to kiss her the way he wants to until she lets him. They then begin to travel down her neck, along her jaw, around her mouth.

Y/n’s breath is stiff as he does so, embracing the feeling of his mouth against her skin. They’ve only ever kissed a handful of times, none of them being passionate or loving. They’ve shared pecks while saying goodbyes or after confessing their feelings, but none quite like this—none quite like the one anticipating to happen.

His breathing his hard when he continues to kiss along her skin, his fingers moving longly in her hair the more his mouth presses against her.

“Will you let me?” He whispers when his lips are ghosting over hers, “this okay?”

She nods feverishly, hitting the point of desperation when she feels his breath fan over the skin of her face. She’s been needing this for far too long now.

“Yes, please.

His thumb runs over her bottom lip one, two, three times before he finally leans in. Their lips mush together passionately, only breaking apart to move their position before locking again. Their tongues meet in the middle, making the both of them moan at the unfamiliar spark coursing through their veins.

Harry walks toward his bed until Y/n’s knees hit the edge of it, making her back meet the mattress. Their lips haven’t detached once, not daring to break away from the feeling they’ve both been deprived of.

They’re both making out on Harry’s childhood bed, grinding onto each other half naked like two hormonal teenagers. Their clothes thrown across the room, lips swollen from all the suction and nibbling, and hair completely knotted from either of their fingertips, the party below them long forgotten.

“Wait, wait wait wait!” Y/n gasps, lifting herself off of his chest.

Harry’s chest rises and falls rapidly, trying to catch his breath as he looks up at Y/n in confusion. He watches as a smirk lifts from her lips as she peers down at his flushed face, giggling slightly at his complete fucked out appearance.

She notices that his lips remained stained from the red wine—a little faded—but still making her body weak at the sight of it.

“’s the matter?” He croaks.

His voice is thick—an entirely different level of raspy, and Y/n wonders how she’s lived so long without hearing him speak in that way. Between all the kissing, all the touching, all the moaning, his voice has a particular roughness to it that Y/n could feed off of if she had to.

“We shouldn’t do this, right? I mean, we’re about to fuck during your mum’s birthday party. Your entire family and Kendall are downstairs, anybody could walk in at any second, or hear us, and your mum could find that so disrespectful and—“

Her rambling is interrupted by his lips, meeting hers passionately between her words.

There is no way in hell he’s leaving this room tonight. Everything that’s been stagnant between them is finally moving in the right direction, and he can’t find it anywhere in him to walk away from it.

“You think I’m letting you go now?” He whispers, his thumb running along her bottom lip. “I have been waiting for this moment with you since high school, sweetheart.”

His lips reattach to her neck, sucking on spots he hasn’t already left marks on, soaking up every bit of the time he has with her before it’s over. This is the first time they’re going to make love, and he wants to feel and remember every bit of this moment.

“B—But your mum—“ She moans, her fingers nearly tangling at the ends of his hair as she hisses in pleasure from his tongue.

“Every single person downstairs knows about us. This—this happening right now, has been expected to happen since I first brought you home. I guarantee you, nothing will make her more happy than knowing her son and his future wife are finally acting on our feelings instead of pushing them to the side again.”

His words make Y/n blush like no other; her cheeks turning the shade of pink on her dress she wore previously. It’s then he notices just hot fucking pretty she is in pink, how every tint of the color compliments her in ways he can barely wrap his head around.

“Future wife, hm?” She smirks, tapping the pads of her fingers against his bare collarbones.

He kisses her again.

“Thought you knew that, love. Wouldn’t know a single soul I’d rather spend the rest of my life with.” His fingers dig into her hips, “’s always been you.“

Y/n pushes Harry’s back against the mattress again, trailing her fingers down his torso. She giggles when his teeth clench at her touch, finding it almost irresistible to embrace the way he responds to her touch so easily.

“Trust me, I always knew.”

Ignore This Text

Summary: Sam somehow gets a favor out of Bucky, resulting in a very awkward confrontation with a local barista.
Pairing: Bucky x reader
Characters: Female Reader, Bucky Barnes, Sam Wilson, Steve Rogers
Word Count: 1,980

| Feedback is very much appreciated | Masterlist |

Every Sunday morning, at precisely 8:45, Bucky finds himself at a quaint, little cafe just a block away from the Brooklyn apartment himself, Steve, and Sam, who he finds utterly unbearable, live together. Like clockwork, he’ll wake up, argue with Sam about him eating the rest of whatever food Bucky was attempting to have for breakfast, Steve offering to go grocery shopping the umpteenth time that week, and with Bucky frustratingly storming out of the apartment subconsciously heading towards the cafe with the best muffins and no with Sam Wilson in sight.

Just like all the weeks before, Bucky’s feet hurriedly carry himself down the empty morning sidewalk as he groans in annoyance. This Sunday Sam had decided to finish off the carton of egg whites, that clearly had a bright blue sticky-note with Bucky’s name on it, and to use up all the hot water in the apartment. It seemed as if this man’s purpose on Earth was to make Bucky Barnes’ life more difficult than it had to be.

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Mr. Min - Chapter 06

Description:  Your CEO caught your attention the first day you started your new job and it seems the attraction is mutual.  Too bad he’s only interested in a relationship that benefits him.

Pairing: Yoongi x Reader x Jungkook

Genre: Angst and Smut

Word Count: 26,321 

A/N: I’m so sorry.  I don’t think I’m capable of doing short chapters anymore.  Feel free to read this on AO3 instead if your app messes up.  

And a huge round of applause to the always lovely, @avveh, for beta-ing this behemoth.  I’m so sorry to put you through that lol.

Prologue - Ch 01 - Ch 02 - Ch 03 - Ch 04 - Ch 05 

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03. Watch Me, Watch You (pt. 3)

Jimin x Reader, College AU, TA!Jimin, Camboy!JImin
Genre: Smut, this is it ya’ll the big finale! 

a couple tags: @btssmutgalore, @missbaptan, @kinkchim, @tayegi, @seaseok, @dailydoseofdia, @war-of-hormoan, @lostinbangtan@1honeypot<3333

← previous | part 3 | end

“Good Evening everybody, Professor Kim couldn’t make it to lecture so I’ll be giving the lecture instead.” You heard a very distinct voice say, your head snapped back and up towards the source. You could not believe your eyes as they feasted upon the sight that was Mr. Park Jimin, the very man that had been haunting your sleep since the first time you laid eyes on him. He stood at the front of the lecture hall wearing a deep blue button up, with his sleeve rolled up to his elbows, broadcasting his incredible forearms, while his muscular thighs were practically bulging through the black slacks he wore. Upon the bridge of his nose sat a fashionable pair of glasses that hid his mischievous eyes. 

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“How ‘bout, Muffin?”

A/N: howdy! this one was requested ((ty you so much for this request honestly!! pls send in more if you have any!!) and I hope I brought your idea to life. I added a bit of a backstory to add some fluff but I’m pretty happy with how it turned out so idk ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

request: “Can you do a Bucky imagine where the reader has superpowers and she accidentally breaks Bucky’s metal arm by her powers or they have super strength and accidentally slammed his arm in a door or something like that. And reader feels super bad and sits with Bucky has Tony fixes his arm and the reader won’t stop apologizing and it ends in fluff”

pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

warnings: slight angst idk – more like banter?? Two implied swear words. One swear word. Bit of second hand embarrassment and rejection

word count: 5.8k (wowza, idk is it better to do longer imagines or short and snappy ones??  lemme know pls)

masterlist

Originally posted by minmiin1d

Sluggishly, you dragged your slipper clad feet across the floor, slapping a hand over your mouth as you yawned loudly. You felt the comforter from your bed trailing behind you as you held it around your body, resembling a makeshift cape. You were sure you looked like a mess; you could feel your hair falling messily out of the bun you had strategically placed it in last night, your pyjama top slipping off your shoulders and you were certain that there were prominent bags lining your eyes. Smiling lazily, you mumbled a small “good morning” to Steve and Natasha who were fumbling in the kitchen preparing their breakfast. They returned your greeting, both however, seemingly much more awake than you were. Not bothering to suppress your sigh, you nudged Steve with your shoulder as you walked past. 

“Remind me again: why the hell do we need to wake up at an ungodly hour to practice punching each other?” You groggily mumble, your voice laced with sleep, narrowing your eyes when Steve laughed at you. 

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BTS’s reaction to their s/o having a PDA addiction:

💌 requested by @pastelxxwitch (your English isn’t bad at all, sweetie!)

A/N: As I mentioned before, I don’t write NSFW, but hopefully I was able to do this request justice. I made it super fluffy. Hope you enjoy it, loves~ 💖


Jin: You have a problem, you know you do. It’s too much - you always go too far. But when you get the urge to cuddle your boyfriend over a respectable family dinner, it’s not something you can easily dismiss. He’s looking so handsome, serving stew to his mother, sleeves rolled up, shirt damp with sweat and kitchen steam - less like a boyfriend, more like a husband. A husband that needs a barrage of hugging and kissing as punishment for being so drop-dead gorgeous.

As he sits down opposite, you give him a look – the look – to let him know what’s up. He doesn’t get the hint at first, so you inch your toes across the wooden flood until you find his shape under the table, and give his leg a nudge with your foot.

His eyes flicker to yours, brows raised in amusement. You’ve been together long enough to understand what his silent signals mean. Translation: “So, playing footsie is a thing we do now?”

You rub your foot up and down the inside of his calf, smiling at him through half-lidded eyes. Translation: “Yes, it’s a thing we do. Starting now.”

Jin looks you up and down, totally distracted now. You’re winning. Just a little more, and he’ll bend to your will. With one last brush of your toe against his trouser leg he stands up, displacing his glass of water, so that a few drops spot the table. “I just remembered that there’s a bottle of wine I forgot to open. Y/N, come and help me get the wine glasses.”

That’s your cue to leave, following him to the kitchen for an emergency make-out session:

“Was there a reason you desperately needed to disrupt our family dinner?”

“You were looking unfairly handsome,” you reply, “You needed to be punished.”

“With kisses?”

“The worst type of punishment.” You kiss him to prove you mean it.

Originally posted by jinmini


Yoongi: Well, this is new.

Normally, you have to beg Yoongi for hugs in public – pulling on his sweater sleeves, pulling on his hair, pulling on his ragged ends with pleas of “Please, Yoongi. Please.” Then he’d roll his eyes, shuffle closer and drape you in his warmth, with an arm around your shoulder while he mumbled about how embarrassing you are.

But today - today is different. And you certainly aren’t complaining.

Pressing his nose into your neck, pulling you closer, his hands fall around your waist, reaching down until they find leverage in the back pockets of your jeans. Without you asking; without him kicking and screaming and making a fuss about it.

You have to pull back a fraction to check his cheeks, which burn pink, just to make sure this is definitely your boyfriend and not some weird, alien replacement.

“What?” he demands.

You shake your head, and curl your arms around his neck. “Nothing… I just though you didn’t like cuddling in public.”

“I don’t.”

“Then what do you call this?”

He burrows deeper, pressing his face into the fabric of your shirt. “I call this an emergency.”

“Emergency?”

He nods. “I was running low on hugs.”

Originally posted by leojuseyo


Hoseok: You fidget anxiously. It’s been three hours, fifteen minutes and nine seconds since your last cuddle with Hoseok, and you’re beginning to feel cold already – what you need right now is a hug, or a hand in your hand, anything really, you’re not picky. But in the middle of the supermarket, mid weekly shop, isn’t the best place or time to tackle your boyfriend. Still, his back is looking exceptionally inviting underneath that tight-fitting t-shirt, just asking for you to snatch him up as he stretches up to reach a cereal box on the highest shelf.

As he turns back to toss the box in the shopping trolley, he pauses, eyeing you up and down, and that’s when you realise you’ve been biting your lip all this time, making heart-eyes his way. Not so subtle.

“What?” he asks, although he knows exactly ‘what’.

You press your palms onto the trolley’s handle and push it in his direction so the metal frame bumps against him. “Don’t ‘what?’ me.”

His response is a chuckle. “Is it that bad? You need me that much?”

You nod, and he licks his lips, before glancing up and down the aisle. There’s no one about. A motion of his hand is all the invitation you need to dive into his arms, and drown him in kisses, hidden by the shelves of biscuits and crisps.

Originally posted by itsrapmonster


Namjoon: “Namjoon, I need a hug.” You hold your arms out to your boyfriend.

“What why? Are you feeling okay?” As usual, Namjoon’s brain is spinning with possible reasons for this sudden request. Are you down? Depressed? Feeling lonely or anxious? Whatever it is, Namjoon’s ready to hug it away, even if you are in the middle of the main street.

You just shake your head at his concern, your smile stretching fondly. “Nothing’s wrong. I just love you. And I want a hug.”

That’s all you need to say. Namjoon’s face relaxes, his shoulders sag, and he breathes a sigh of relief. A hug for love’s sake. Of course. In one step, he’s by your side, wrapping his arms around your waist – not because it’s raining in your heart, or the sky above you is crumbling down, or the very fabric of the Earth is fraying. But just because you wanted it.

And you also – “Was that the first time you said that you love me?” he asks.

“I think it was.”

“Well. I love you too.”

“Good.”

“Good.”

Originally posted by bangthebae


Jimin: You have a new hobby: embarrassing your boyfriend in front of his friends.

Jimin, who’s normally more snuggly than your bed on a rainy Monday morning, forgets all about your habitual cuddling when he’s with his group, keeping his distance instead, and getting jumpy when you brush against him.

Now that you’ve figured out how much power you possess – with him pleading “please – not so much PDA while I’m around my friends, I need to keep some semblance of my masculinity”, and you cooing back “sure thing, my squishy mochi” – it’s time to wreak some havoc.

The next time you’re at Taehyung’s house, you decide to put your plan in motion, pouncing on Jimin and tackling him to the couch. This should be fun.

“What are you doing?” His cheeks rise a couple of shades of red.

“Just cuddling like we normally do, mochi-wochi,” you purr, settling yourself in his lap.

The other boys burst out laughing at your actions, while Jimin squirms underneath you, trying to wriggle free. But it’s no use. Cuddling is serious business to you, and there’s no way you’re letting him go.

Sighing, he surrenders, and with his masculinity in shreds, he kisses your cheek as a form of peace-keeping. “Alright you win,” he mumbles, “Just, please, no more ‘mochi-wochi’.”

Originally posted by minblush


Taehyung: You and Taehyung are tied together by the heartstrings. You have a connection that you can’t quite explain, and somehow, you both seem to know exactly when the other’s craving touch - feelings so in sync, Taehyung needs you exactly when you need him.

Today is no exception. You’re sitting in a café with Taehyung, smiling stupidly-in-love over ice-cream sundaes, when all of a sudden you need – need – to cuddle with him, or your heart might seize up.

Without a word, without warning, you slip out of your seat, and rounding the table to Taehyung’s side, wrap your arms around his shoulders.

He twists his neck to gaze up at you, brown eyes blinking. “You alright?”

“Yeah. I just really needed a hug, all of a sudden.”

“Good, me too.” He grins, and you duck your head down for a kiss on his unsuspecting lips.

With a smooth motion, he slides his chair back, making room for you to sit on his lap, which you’re more than happy to accept, and from this perch you have easy access to his triple-chocolate knickerbocker glory.

“Oh, I see how it is,” Taehyung scoffs, as you lick chocolate sauce off his spoon, “You only like me for my desserts?”

“Opps. Exposed,” you laugh, and Taehyung leans in to peck a stray speck of chocolate from your chin.

When you kiss back again, he shivers below you, body responding before he can control it. Forgetting the café around you, the hustle and bustle of baristas and customers, you and Taehyung melt into each other like the ice-cream in your bowl.

Originally posted by buisually-appealing


Jungkook: Jungkook doesn’t like cuddling in public. It’s something you learnt about him a long time ago, on your first date in fact, sharing secrets with a game of ’20 questions’ - when he said ‘I’m embarrassed to touch in public’ you had almost ended the relationship then and there. How were you – one of the clingiest, touchy-feeliest people on the planet – going to cope with a guy who melted into a blushing pile of mush any time you so much as brushed fingers in public. Even when you got him to hold your hand, murmuring ‘Look, see? No one minds, no one’s looking,’ he’d still stay as stiff as steel, and snap your fingers apart when anyone so much as glanced in your general direction.

Thankfully, you had discovered a way to combat the problem, crafting the perfect date for you and your boyfriend – a public place where you could touch to your heart’s content, without Jungkook shying away from the eyes of disapproving grannies and curious children: a magical place called the cinema.

Seated in the back row, you can share a bag of popcorn and as many kisses as you want, without fear of being watched. With everyone else transfixed on the film, you and Jungkook can devote yourselves to each other. As the movie heroes strike out on quests to discover new lands, you explore new parts of Jungkook, acquainting yourself with every centimetre of exposed skin: cheeks, neck, knuckles, the inside of his wrists, any part he gives. He relaxes in your arms, and watching him unfurl for you is better than any film – he is your masterpiece, better directed that Steven Spielberg. In the dark of the cinema, you fall in love.

Originally posted by aestheticvbts


! I did not make the gifs !

Soulmates (AU) Part 2

Pairing: Harry and Y/N

Word Count: 2677

Prompt (AU) : Harry took his anger out in sex-and you weren’t supposed to do that. He would go to the bar and find others just as terrible and lonely as him, drink, and then sink his sorrows into anything with breast and a hole were to put it. Niall always rolled his eyes the next morning and say to Harry “you’re a proper dick, yeh know that right?”, to which Harry would lift his middle finger up and respond with, “if soulmates are real she would love me anyhow.”

“Harry when you meet her your life will change,” Anne says, handing him a cup of tea.

Harry rolls his eyes, “I don’t care to meet her. It’s all bullshit,” Harry grumbles.

Part One


There were very few things that bugged Y/N in life. Y/N hated when people didn’t use their turn signals when driving, or when people walked too slow in front of her, or when people rolled their eyes or stared at her, but she absolutely loathed when people wouldn’t respect her choice and try and force her to talk. It was clear, crystal clear, that she wasn’t much of a talker, and yes or no questions where the good route to go, but when people edged her on she got upset.

For example, Harry just couldn’t wrap his mind around how his other half would not utter a single word to him. Y/N had written down on a whiteboard that she was ‘mute’ and would really prefer if Harry stayed away from the label. She explained that even though he was her soulmate (and she would love to be open with him) talking just didn’t seem like something she was ready for.

She watched as Harry rolled his eyes, crossing his arms, and frowned. She could feel his annoyance (literally) and she wanted to stub her toe on the table just to tick him off, but she felt like it was rude and she didn’t want to put herself through the pain as well.

“So like what? I’m supposed to spend the rest of my life with someone who won’t talk to me?” Harry asked, his eyes on her as she walks down the hallway of her apartment complex.

Y/N shrugs, ‘learn asl,’ she signs.

“The fuck does that mean?” Harry spat.

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Katie’s Graduation Present

Katie’s Graduation Present | Phil Lester has missed the majority of his daughter’s high school years because he’s spent the last four years in the military. When Dan finds out he’s going to miss her graduation, too, he throws a fit, and doesn’t even say “I love you,” before hanging up on him. So who’s the military guy in blue at the bottom of the bleachers? | Phan | Teen and Up | Reunion fic, light angst, happy ending, Parent phan | 1,849 Words

Disclaimer: In no way do I pretend that this is real or cast aspersions on Dan or Phil.

I may have spent a good portion of the morning watching military reunion videos and I cried so hard I wrote a fic with my tears.

(Ao3)

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Adored by Him

A/N: So this fic is inspired by the song “Adored by Him” by Dodie Clark. Yeah that’s really it… 

Warnings: Swearing but that’s normal.

Word Count: 2, 428

Your POV 

I honestly never expected any of this to happen. When I became friends with Dan, I did think he was handsome and funny. But I didn’t think I would fall for him as fast as I did. I always pushed away the feelings until they asked if I wanted to move in with them. Being around him 24/7 made it harder to conceal it so I just let it happen. No one knew about my feelings, except Phil, who figured out a year ago. I always expected the feelings to just go away but they didn’t.

But then she happened. Allison was Dan’s most recent girlfriend. They’ve been dating for many months now, and he was absolutely smitten (cheeky Dodie reference again) with her. He never spoke about how he felt about her, but I was able to tell. The way he looked at her with adoring eyes, and smile at the mere mention of her name. I don’t blame him though. She was beautiful, with her butterscotch hair and her smile that could shine brighter than the sun, I bet anybody would fall her easily. She was literally perfect, and I was just…well me. It was easy to figure out how she made Dan’s soul practically glow, and it hurt. A lot.  

I won’t hate you but oh it stings,

How does it feel to be adored by him? 

It was hard to hate Allison. She was super nice, and had the same sense of humor as Dan. Plus, she makes him happy. That’s what matters, right?


I was sitting on the couch, watching my favorite movie with Phil. It was raining outside so we decided to dedicate the day to watching a bunch of movies. Phil and I were cuddled up under a blanket, eating popcorn. It was relaxing to say the least. Dan was out at Allison’s house so, of course, Phil questioned me about my feelings.

“Are you ever going to tell him, Y/N?” Phil asked, nudging my arm with his elbow.

I pulled up the blanket to my chest, and sighed heavily. “Philly we’ve talked about this before. I’ll only ruin things so-" 

"You should tell him. It’s best to get it out there.” Phil gave me a sympathetic look. It’s like he knew Dan wouldn’t return the feelings but he didn’t want to keep any secrets. To be honest I’m surprised he didn’t tell Dan by now. 

“Phil, look-”

Phil and I jumped off the couch when we heard a loud bang, and stumbling coming from downstairs. We exchanged confused glances, and hurried to the front door to see Dan, stumbling around the entrance of our flat.

“Hi guys!” Dan said, his speech slurred.

“Dan what the hell happened!?” Phil questioned, running up to his best friend’s side and helping him take his shoes off. 

“Heh, Allison and I got in a fight. Stupid really-” He tripped over his shoes that he just took off and laughed. He looked up into my eyes and smiled. “Don’t worry I’m fine.” Dan pushed Phil’s hand off his shoulder, and walked up the stairs by himself.

“Y/N, do you want to make sure he’s okay?” Phil asked, walking up to my side as we slowly followed Dan up the stairs.

“Why?”

“Just talk to him." 

I let out another sigh, and took another glance at Dan, who stumbled into his bedroom. "Okay. I’m not telling drunk Dan anything though.” I pointed my finger at Phil, and let out a small laugh to lighten the mood. Phil shook his head, smacking my hand away and smiling.

“Just go.” He laughed. 

I walked to the kitchen, and poured a small glass of water for Dan. I ignored the aching pain in my chest, and the tears swelling up in my eyes. I put down the glass for a moment to take a deep breath, and recollect myself. After a few minutes, I made my way towards Dan’s room where I saw him softly crying. My heart broke at the sight. It pained me so much to see another girl make Dan hurt. I hated it. I walked towards Dan’s bed and gave him the glass of water. 

“Here you go, sweetie.” I sat at the end of his bed, waiting for his response. 

“Thank you.” Dan sniffed, taking a sip of the water. 

“You want to talk about what happened?” I moved closer to him. His legs were hanging over the edge of his bed and he was staring at the cup of water in his lap.

“She doesn’t trust me.”  

“What do you mean?” I was right by his side after I finished the question. I tried to make eye contact with him but he was so closed off, I decided to keep a little distance.

“She thinks that I’m cheating on her with you.” He lifted his head slowly and stared into my eyes. My face turned red and I stared at the ground. I felt the butterflies in my stomach go crazy, and I had to take a deep breath again to calm myself down. I looked back into his beautiful, chocolate eyes and stared in silence for a while.  

Pretty girl there’s no need to fret

Because it’s midnight, he’s drunk, and you’re the one in his head.

You don’t even have to try at all. 

“I can’t say I’m in love with her but I feel something…strong towards her you know? I’m not even sure if she feels the same. It’s just- It hurts a lot that she doesn’t even trust me. ” Dan’s eyes got glossy, and he stared down at his cup again. All I did was nod my head. I understood where he was coming from. Someone you may be in love with and they might not even return the feeling. How ironic. 

“I understand, Dan. But you should get some rest, then talk to her in the morning.” I flashed a fake smile at Dan and stood up from his bed. I stood in front of him, and he stared into my eyes like he was searching for something.

“Thank you, Y/N. You’re honestly the best.” Dan put his glass down on his bedside table and got up to give me hug. I accepted it, taking in his warmth for that short moment I had. I sighed when he pulled away and sat in his bed. “You want to…stay with me for a bit?” He asked, not making eye contact. I gave him a weak smile, and nodded, sitting next to him as he got comfortable underneath the blanket.

I lost track of time, waiting for Dan to fall asleep. I stared at his sleeping figure for god knows how long, I felt like a complete creep. He looked so peaceful with his head resting in my lap it was hard not to. I gently stroked his hair as he slowly fell asleep, his arms wrapped around my body as his head rested on my leg. I checked the time on his phone, 1:00 am. I noticed his lock screen, expecting it to be a picture of him and Allison. But instead it was a picture of him, me, and Phil at VidCon on our day off. I smiled at it, but quickly my smile faded when a text from Allison popped up. I decided to ignore it, and finally leave Dan’s side. 

I crept towards the kitchen, hoping not to wake Dan or Phil up. However, to my surprise Phil was standing in the kitchen, drinking some tea while leaning against the counter. 

“So, how did it go?” He asked, staring at me. 

“She doesn’t trust him apparently. Allison thinks he’s cheating on her with…me.” I sighed. All my emotions that I’ve been holding in all night were surfacing, and I wasn’t going to let it happen. “Um, he’s asleep now. He asked me to stay with him for a little while and I lost track of time because he was…uh-" 

"Cuddling with you?” Phil flashed me a smile, but it faded when he looked into my eyes and noticed the tears coming up. He gave me a sympathetic look and walked closer to me. “You should just tell him so he knows. So you don’t have to keep hurting. He will understand, Y/N." 

"I know Phil. It’s just- it hurts seeing them together so much. And of course I want him to be happy! But that selfish part of me wants him to be happy with me. God, it fucking hurts.” I felt a warm streak roll down my cheek, and I quickly wiped it away, looking away from Phil. 

“Y/N.” I knew he was trying to make me look at him, but I hated being this vulnerable. “Y/N.” I gave in and stared into Phil’s icy blue eyes. It was full of sympathy, and I couldn’t take it anymore. 

“Phil, don’t look at me like that please. It’s only making me feel worse.” I felt more tears surfacing and let out a heavy sigh. I heard Phil mumble a small apology and he embraced me in a warm, loving hug. At that point I finally broke. I started sobbing into his shirt, with every sob he would hold me tighter, and tell me everything was going to be okay. He gently ran his hands through my hair. I pulled away from Phil, and sniffed, gently rubbing my nose. 

“Y/N, I know it hurts but-” Phil paused in the middle of his sentence and stared behind me. I looked up to Phil, then turned around to see what he was looking at. There was Dan, his hair curly and disheveled, and his empty glass in his hands.

“What’s wrong?” Dan asked, noticing my red, puffy eyes and the tear stains on Phil’s shirt. He looked into my eyes and I could tell he was concerned.

“N-Nothing.” I lied.

“Obviously there’s something wrong, Y/N, tell me.” Dan walked over to the counter and placed his cup on the surface. I looked up to Phil, and nodded, signaling for him to give us some alone time. When Phil left the room, Dan pulled me into a tight hug, and for the second time that night I broke down. “Want to talk to me about what happened?”

I pulled away from Dan and stared at the floor. “It’s not really about w-what happened. It’s more…what’s happening.” I let out a fake chuckle. Dan shot me a confused look, and backed up to lean against the counter.

“Tell me what’s going on or so help me god Y/N I will-”

“Okay. Um. I guess.”

“Spit it out, please.” Dan tilted his head, giving me a worried look. God I can’t handle this anymore.

“Okay, you don’t even have to respond to this…but I really need it out in the open.” I could feel my heart beating out of my chest, and I took deep unsteady breath. “I just need you to know that…that” I stared into Dan’s eyes and I could feel my heart aching all over again. I felt tears pouring out of my eyes and saw Dan’s tall figure making his way over to comfort me again but I pulled away.

“Please don’t. You’re just going to make this harder.”
“Y/N tell me. Please, you’re making me worried.” I realized that Dan and I were standing really close, closer than we usually are. I looked into his beautiful eyes like it was the last time then stared at the floor.

“I think I’m in love with you.” I mumbled. 

“What? Speak up, love.” Dan said softly. 

“Fuck.” I ran my fingers through my hair and avoided eye contact at all costs. “I think I’m in love with you and it fucking stings so much to see you and Allison together. I mean I don’t blame you, or her. Allison is like the definition of perfect. I mean she makes me look blind with how adventurous she is and you look at her like the world is fucking perfect. It’s so stupid to think that I could compare to her. But god, do I wish it was me in your arms instead of her. Don’t even get me started about how I feel about you because there is too much history to even go over.” I shook my head, staring at the ground, watching my tears hit the white kitchen tiles.

“Y/N, can you look at me please?” Dan was still speaking softly. 

“Dan I told you, you don’t have to even say anything. You could just simply ignore it and leave, I’ll get the point." 

"Look at me, Y/N.” Dan said, more stern but still full of care. I rolled my eyes and stared into his eyes. Even though my vision was blurred I could still see the small glimmer in his eyes. “I’m sorry for-”

“Dan I told you, you don’t have to do this." 

"Y/N, we need to talk about this. We can’t just ignore it.”

“Well I’ve been ignoring it for 3 years now, so I think I’m good. I know the speech you’re about to give me and I just…” I let out a muffled sob into my hand, and looked back up to him. “Please I can’t take this right now." 

"Please let me just-" 

"Dan, I’m so sorry I shouldn’t have said anything. I really need fresh air…I’ll be back in a bit." 

Dan looked over to the clock on the oven, and slowly moved towards the door. "It’s 1:20, Y/N you can’t go outside alone." 

"Well I am, so please move.” Dan was blocking the doorway. I made eye contact with him and got lost in his eyes again. I felt like time slowed down when we stared into each other’s eyes, but I broke the contact because I felt more tears coming. Dan reluctantly walked up to me, opening his arms to give me a hug. But instead, I pulled away from him. 

“I’m so sorry.” I mumbled, and ran down the stairs to the front door, putting on my shoes and coat. 

“Y/N wait-”

I left before I could hear anymore. I let the cold London air enter my lungs, as I tried to relax from what happened, and trying to decide if I should go back and face Dan, or go to a friend’s house. I ultimately decided on staying outside for a while. Sitting on a park bench staring at the trees in the park as I replayed what happened through my head. 

What am I going to do?

A/N: Second part? Or leave it there? YOU DECIDE

Anon asked: “I get all these plot ideas in my head, but I really struggle with writing them down in words, to sit down and actually write, partly because I usually think too much whenever I try to write (like how the grammar is and how it sounds etc) and I always think it all sounds so slow and boring when I write my ideas down… which leads me to just “write” the story in my head instead of actually writing it :/. Do you’ve any advice on how to stop doing that? Because it’s really frustrating!”
 

Originally a question for It’s a Writer Thing, but it was decided that answering it on this blog would be better for the less technical answer and the more actionable answer!

This answer will cover two reasons why my suggestion works, and one alternative if you don’t like the first piece of advice.

-       You Need to Stop Caring So Much

Your main problem is you’re overthinking things, which is natural, because you want this scene to be perfect. As perfect as it was in your head, and every moment it doesn’t do that, you become more frustrated and your creativity is more stifled.

Those grammar and word choices worries aren’t about grammar or word choice – it’s your mind battling with the cosmic issue of scientists not getting off their butts and creating a device that projects thoughts onto paper yet. There’s nothing wrong with your writing. You have created an impeccable scene in your head, and the more impeccable it is, the more dissatisfied you’ll be with writing it.

-       So, the solution:

Drink wine. No, seriously. Carve out an evening to yourself, put on some music that inspires you to write or that serves as the background music of a scene you want, get a glass of wine (or three), and sit down.

Drink the first glass of wine.

Play the music and start brainstorming the scene. Let it play out in your head. Let yourself get a little crazy in the details because you’re not writing yet, you’re brainstorming.

If you smoke, have a cigarette, and start on the second glass of wine.

Now start writing.

-       Why This Works

Wine takes the edge off. Stronger alcohol can work too, because it’s called liquid courage for a reason. It makes you stop CARING so much if it’s perfect, so that your mind can relax enough to actually write the scene as good as it can be. If you drink too much, then you’ll have problems with the keys, so know your own limit and drink just until you just have that nice buzz that makes you not so upset if this draft turns out less than satisfactory.

Trust me, when you look at it later, it will be 80% better than you thought it’d be.

-       The Sectioned Off Evening Itself Does Wonders

Knowing that you are just messing around with the scene for the next few hours – that it doesn’t have to be perfect; that it doesn’t have to be really anything, since you’re just having an enjoyable writing session – will take half the edge off.

You’re not here to do miracles – you’re here to chill out with a nice glass of wine and enjoy yourself! Even if you just brainstorm it in your head and write down notes to fill out later, that’s for later! You accomplished something. Good for you.

-      If You Don’t Drink

That’s fine. I’m not telling anyone to start drinking if they don’t like it, or encouraging alcoholics to fall off the bandwagon for the sake of a scene. … unless it’s a really good scene.

I jest.

The key is to chill out. So whatever makes you relax, calm down, and cast off the more anxious side of yourself, do it.

If you smoke, have a cigarette. Or five.

If you like a warm bath, get a notebook and try your best to keep it dry, or if you have nerves of steel, take your chances with the laptop.

If chocolate eases your nerves, get a bag of Hersey’s Kisses and go for it.

Just remember that you have to not only kill that usual tension that life brings, but you have to go one step further to make your inner critic decide to quiet down for the night.

-       To Wrap Around

The key is to calm down. Then calm down some more. Calm down clear to the point where your “give a damn” function is disabled for the night. You can accomplish some pretty amazing things when you don’t care so much. Then the scene at least has words on it – and you can always work with a bad scene, but never a nonexistent scene.

Hope this helps!

Home Invasion (Peter Parker x Reader)-Part 1

Character Pairing: Tom Holland’s Peter Parker x Reader

Word Count: 3,140 (might have changed I went back a revised a bit)

Warning: Rape mentions, cussing, literally the title (if that’s even a warning you never know with Tumblr)

 You hated being home alone. When your parents first told you that they had to go to a family friend’s wedding, you panicked. You pleaded to go with them, not because you had wanted to see the ceremony, but because you couldn’t stand the thought of sleeping in the apartment all by yourself. Of course they had said no, just for the sake of airfare prices, but it wasn’t that much of a letdown since you didn’t even know the bride and groom anyways. Being the stubborn girl you were though, you were relentless with your parents about going, until they finally bribed you into keeping your mouth shut. 

 Not surprisingly, you spent half of the money they gave you on takeout food, since cooking for one is just too much of a hassle. Plus, cooking for just yourself was yet another reminder that you were completely alone in your apartment. 

 Grabbing the brown paper bag of food and a soda, you made your way over to your room. You plopped down on your bed, and began to flip through channels on your T.V. It didn’t take long to find a good movie, this one in particular was actually one of your favorites, so you were quite content, getting swept up into the storyline almost immediately.

 Although, at some point while watching, you felt a wave of loneliness hit you so abruptly, it made your heart sore. You all of a sudden craved the presence of another person with you, just to keep you company. Knowing this feeling wouldn’t go away on it’s own, you called the first person you wanted to be with at the moment. Your best friend, Peter Parker.

 Tapping on his contact, and putting your phone to your ear, you waited patiently while listening to the dial go off every few seconds. Normally, he’d pick up within seconds, the sound of his eager voice greeting you was what you had expected. But after a couple of minutes of waiting, when he answered, he spoke in a low, hushed tone. “Hey [Y/N.]”

 “Hey Peter, so my parents aren’t home now and I was just wondering if you maybe wanted to come over a-”

 You stopped talking when you heard shuffling sounds and yelling on Peter’s line. Where was he? “Parker, are you okay? What’s going on?” You questioned, your voice heavy with concern. 

 As the phone was silent, you stood up from your bed and began pacing nervously, waiting for him to answer. Your worry only began to heighten every time a sound other than Peter’s voice emitted from your cell. You began to consider hanging up on him and dialing 911, but then you realized that would be pointless since you have no clue where he is. He definitely wasn’t at home judging from the sounds of cars every so often. Finally, after a few minutes of waiting anxiously, he responded. “Look [Y/N],” he sighed, a bit of guilt laced in his voice, “As much as I’d like to come over, I’m sorta caught up with some stuff right now.”

 You frowned, not only because he was rain checking yet again- even more-so when he knew you were all alone, but also because you were distraught about this whole phone call. Why was he acting so weird? Peter had been acting off for a while now, but this was a whole new level for him.

 “I’m sorry, I know how much you hate being home alone,” he whispered now, rushing through his words as if he just wanted to end the phone call, which made you even more upset. “I’ll make it up to you though, I promise.”

 As you heard the three beeps that signaled Peter had hung up, tears began forming in your eyes, causing a stinging sensation. Closing them, you pressed your fingers against your eyelids, trying to wipe away the feeling. How could he be so indifferent with you?

 Peter had been different for a while now, and you’ve grown so used to this side of him, you chose to ignore it for the most part, almost becoming blind to it. Almost. Every now and then, you would catch him in a lie while he tried to make an excuse up for why he didn’t have time to hangout with you, but you never dared to confront him about it. It just wasn’t your style. Well, it wasn’t your style until now. This was your last straw, and you promised yourself the next time you see him, you’d ask him what his problem is.

 Although you didn’t want to admit it, you were scared Peter was just blowing you off because he didn’t want to be your friend anymore. Maybe he was getting sick of you, found you to be clingy, and he was just too sweet of a guy to ever say that to your face. It was a horrible thought that made your heart hurt every time you’d think about it.

 You sat on the edge of your bed, shoulders hunched forward and your head in your hands just crying, drowning in your thoughts. Even though Peter had done this for a while now, it just dawned on you how much you missed him. The intense pain of loneliness you had felt before dulled out after a while but it still hurt. You somehow knew this discomfort you felt wouldn’t go away until you could see Peter again. You wanted to hear his melodic laugh as you told him a joke, and hell, you would sign up to be a comedian if it meant listening to that forever. You wanted to see his cute little grin when he’d walk up to your locker in the hallways at school, greeting you, his eyes lighting up when you smiled sweetly back at him. You missed the science banter between him and Ned, always being on his side, even if he was wrong. You couldn’t wait to see the next time he’d awkwardly stumble, and you as always, would laugh your ass off as you watched his cheeks bloom with a tint a of red. Don’t even get started on the way he speaks with such passion about the Stark internship. He was so dedicated to the job, it made you happy he found something that he loved so much. You missed everything about him. 

As you dozed asleep, emotionally and physically drained, you had one last thought before you completely slipped unconscious.

 I think I like Peter Parker.


 You woke up to the sound of glass breaking outside of your bedroom. It sounded a bit muffled, but it was loud enough to wake you up. Maybe it was just a cup falling in the kitchen, you tried to reassure yourself. A few moments after the crash though, you heard the distinct sound of footsteps. They sounded a bit farther off outside your room, but you knew for sure that these noises were coming from your apartment.

 Now fully alert, you swung your legs around to the side of your mattress and stood up cautiously, not wanting to make any noise. Your heart began to thump hard against your chest as you tiptoed silently to your door. A plan of escape began to form in your head, which had nothing to do with going through the main doors as an exit, but you wanted to see the intruder’s face before leaving. After all, if the police were to catch this guy when you notified them later on, they’re going to need a description. Grasping the doorknob, and giving it a slow turn, you smoothly swiveled your door open and poked your head out.

 Your eyes scanned your apartment, quickly locating the invader. Judging by their height and broader shoulders, this person was a man. His back was facing you as he was tearing apart your living room, not even bothering to keep the noise level down. 

 That’s when a thought popped in your head. He seemed to have known that your parents would be gone, since he obviously isn’t being quite stealthy. This is someone you knew. Someone who was a neighbor in your apartment. He must have assumed you had gone away with your parents if he was being so careless at the moment.

 Breaking yourself out of thought, you suddenly had a brilliant idea. It would just take being careful and waiting for the perfect moment. Grabbing your cell phone from the pocket of your hoodie, you opened the camera app, holding it up to the man. As you were waiting for the burglar to turn his face, something caught your eye on the phone screen. Squinting to try and make out what it was in the dark, your eyes widened as you put your hand over your mouth in horror when you realized what he was holding. It was a knife.

 At this point, you honestly couldn’t care less if you shot a good picture of his face or not, you just wanted to get the hell out of there. Preparing yourself, you took a deep breath and with shaking fingers, pressed the camera button.

 You knew what your mistake was seconds too late. 

 You kept the flash setting on.

 The whole living room lit up in a bright light, the burglar whipping his head in your direction. This man definitely lived in your apartment, you’ve seen him around before, but you never learned his name.

  When his cold, menacing eyes met yours, you felt the dread of your mistake wash over your whole body like a wave. It was the most horrible feeling you’ve ever felt, the realization of how dangerous this whole situation was, now that he knew you were here.

 Thinking fast, you swiftly slammed your door shut, locked it, and pushed a chair up against it. You didn’t know how you even managed to do that, since your whole body was shaking due to the fear coursing through you like venom. You ran towards your window, beginning to turn all the safety locks your parents had installed on it. 

 “You can’t escape from me, [Y/N].” The man said, his voice so sinister sounding, you couldn’t help it as a chill ran down your spine. The way he addressed you was so… final. Almost as if he was one hundred percent sure he was going to catch you. Finalize you.

 Heart rate quickening at that thought, you began using all the strength in your arms to pull up the window, but cursing loudly to yourself when it wouldn’t budge. The locks were jammed from all the years of never opening this window, you always opened the smaller one, but you were much too big to fit through that one.

 “C’mon [Y/N], think, think, think,” muttering to yourself as your eyes scanned across your room, until they landed on baseball bat. You couldn’t help yourself as you let out a cry of relief, rushing over to the other side of your room to grab it.

 Ironically enough, you always kept that baseball bat beside your bed in case anything like this were to happen. You could cry you felt so grateful that your past self was crazy-cautious enough to go through the measures of putting it there.

 You were just about to swing the baseball bat into the window to smash it when you heard it.

 First, it was just heavy pounding against your door.

 Then it was the distinct sound of wood cracking under pressure.

 He was breaking down your door.

 Knowing your door would only take a few more blows, you hastily struck your window with the bat, the sound of breaking glass sharp in your ears. The cold city wind rushed in as soon as the window had been smashed, nipping at your nose, but you didn’t care.

 You had to keep moving if you wanted to make it out of this alive.

 You swung one of your legs out of the window, straddling it, and planted your foot on the fire escape platform. The glass was cutting into your thighs and hands but you didn’t feel anything at the moment. You were numb, the only thing that mattered was escaping. 

 As you began to bring your other leg around the window sill, you saw a shadow move in the corner of your eye. Your neck snapped to the side and you couldn’t help it as you let out a shrill shriek, seeing the man break through the door with a loud CRACK, not even pausing as he stalked towards you. You stumbled onto the fire escape, and strangely enough, the panic didn’t fully set in until now. Panicking lead to not being able to think straight, and not being able to think straight lead you to making possibly the worst decision you’ve ever made: you started running up the stairs instead of down.

 A sob escaped your lips when the realization of this mistake hit you, but it was too late anyways. The man was behind you, already climbing the set of stairs you just finished going up. You didn’t dare to look back, fearing that you would freeze up if you didn’t like how close he was getting to you.

 What would happen once you reached the top? There was nowhere to go once you got to the roof. Would the man quickly end your life, so there were no witnesses to his burglary, or would he make you suffer? A shudder ran through your body as you thought about the possible ways he could slowly kill you off. 

 You didn’t know whether or not this was the final chapter to your life, but one thing was for sure. You would keep fighting until there was no use. When you couldn’t run anymore, you would crawl. When you couldn’t crawl anymore, you would drag yourself inch by inch, still trying to get away. That’s just how you were. You were too stubborn to give up.

 You were so swept up in your thoughts, you didn’t even realize you had reached the top. That’s when the fear that you had pushed away this whole time, tucking it into a corner of your mind, was rushing back with an overwhelmingly intenseness to it. The feeling was so strong, it knocked the wind out of you, leaving you a heaving mess, gasping for air. This was it. You were done for.

 And he knew it. 

 The man chuckled, probably because you now stood in front of him, all thoughts of escape gone. You were like a deer in headlights. Eyes wide, moving sporadically, feet planted, body frozen in place. Not knowing where to go. 

 Ever since you were young, you’d always made fun of the stupid teenage girls in horror movies that just stood in place as the killer approached them. Now in their place, you gulped down the lump in your throat as you realized how they had felt.

 The knife in his hand gleamed under the moonlight, now so foreboding-looking, you couldn’t help it as tears began to form in your eyes. Being the stubborn girl you’ve always been -not wanting to show any signs of weakness, you fought them, trying to not let any spill, but it was too late. They were already silently streaming down your cheeks.

 As you started backing away from him, not daring to turn around in fear he would jab his knife in your back, it didn’t hit you until you felt the heel of your shoe step back into nothingness: this was the edge of the roof. You had gone your limit, and now there was truly nowhere to run. A sharp pain poked at your stomach, and you let out a whimper as you looked down to see the tip of the blade pointed at you. The man was now so close, your chests were almost touching, which made you shudder with disgust. You squeezed your eyes shut tight, waiting for him to make the final move of killing you. But that never happened. 

 “Now, why don’t we stop playing games,” he said, jabbing the knife against your skin a bit more, “And let’s start having some fun.” His disgustingly grimy hands skimmed the waistband of your jeans, tugging them slightly and you recoiled as much as you could. As he began unbottoning your pants, thoughts raced your mind so fast, it was hard to keep track of them. 

 It was the way he said it that made you have a feeling what he was about to do to you would be far worse than death. So cold and unforgiving. He was looking for another way to show that he had more power than you, more control. He wanted you to be scared and backed into a corner, that’s just the way his sick, twisted mind worked. But you wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of this: you refused to.

 “Fuck you.” You said, surprising even yourself with the way you managed to snap out those two words. It was so hatred-filled that if words could kill people, this man would be dead and gone. You spit in his face just to have one last accomplishment before you did it.

 Before you let yourself fall back.


 All you remember about falling was screaming. Screaming so loud you felt like you might rip your vocal cords in half. But you weren’t the only one screaming, the wind was too. It was whipping past your ears, blowing your hair in all different directions as you free-fell at a killer speed. This was it. You were going to die. You thought of your mom and dad, and your heart shattered in half as you realized they may think you had just wanted to commit suicide. If only they knew.

 Just as you began squeezing your eyes shut, bracing for the impact, you felt an object ram into you from the side. You let out a gasp of air as the force of whatever hit you knocked the wind out of you. As silly as it sounded, you thought at first it may have been a bird that hit you, but when your eyes snapped open you knew it wasn’t any kind of animal that ran into you. It was a human. More specifically, it was Spider-Man. He saved you.

 Noticing you were looking up at him, you felt his arm around your waist give you a gentle squeeze. “Don’t worry, I’ve got you.” He said, his voice so quietly comforting, you feel your heart beat steady to a normal pace soon after his words. Maybe it was just your imagination, or maybe you had misheard him due to the whistling of the wind as he webbed between buildings, but you could’ve sworn he added in, “I’ve always got you, [Y/N].” 


A/N: Hey guys! So when I had originally thought of this idea, I wasn’t going to make it so long, but I usually tend to draw out stories so there will be a Part 2 to this. (If everyone wants one I don’t know maybe no one will end up reading this just let me know if you’re even interested in a part 2) I was supposed to cram it all into one fic, but I thought that may have been a bit long. Also, I’m very, very sorry there was barely any Peter in this but I promise part 2 will have a ton more of my baby, and it’ll be super fluffy so just you wait!

McCall Pack, Meet Riverdale

Summary: Your the sister of the late Allison Argent. Soon after her death your father, Chris Argent, Isaac Lahey and you move to France. Not long after you find yourself living with your Dad in his hometown. While Riverdale doesn’t have a supernatural mess, it sure does have a strange and mysterious murder.

Characters: daughter!reader x chris argent, reader x undetermined love interest, Archie Andrews, Jughead Jones, Veronica Lodge, Betty Cooper, Stiles Stilinski, Scott McCall, and Allison Argent (mentioned)

Words: 1933

Disclaimer: I do not own Teen Wolf or the characters. I do not own Riverdale OR the characters, the show is based the Archie Comics which I do not own either. I also do not own any gifs, images or songs that may appear.

Warnings: possible swearing, mention of death, mention of murder, angst. Angry reader and allusion to the murder of Jason Blossom.

Author: Caitsy

Tagging: Ask if you want to be removed or added! At the bottom.

A/N: I’ve completely fallen in love with Riverdale mainly because I grew up reading the comics. IT’S AMAZING! With that being said I will be taking requests for Riverdale!

This is to hold you guys over because Ash and I will be unavailable for a little way. I have tons of homework and I’m not at liberty to say what Ash is busy at!

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Originally posted by 5secondsofwolf

Originally posted by daddario

You were humming to yourself as you walked into your house in the town that mimicked Beacons Hills just without the supernatural element. You had moved here when your dad decided moving to his hometown would be ideal following the harsh ending of your family. It wasn’t anything bad other than Allison had died and you wanted out. Riverdale was interesting but not like the dangers of living in Beacon Hills.

“Hey Dad?” You called from the porch. It had a few hidden places holding some weapons just in case.

“Sweetheart.” Your dad, Chris, asked from the dining room table. On the table was a bunch of weapons laid out to be cleaned, “Anything I can do for you?”

“I see it’s the weekly cleaning.” You chuckled as your eyes caught sight of Allison’s beloved Chinese daggers, “Want to order out?”

“Sure.” He chuckled tapping your nose, “You know what I like.”

You laughed before picking up the phone to call Pop’s diner. It was a short wait before you were able to place the order with the waitress. You were pretty sure she was the new waitress.

“It will be ready in twenty minutes.” She replied before the two of your exchanged goodbyes.

You sat at the table going about cleaning the weapons along with your dad. It was second nature and a bonding experience from the moment you learnt what the Argents really did. It was so second nature that your mind went back to the group of friends you had left behind.

Beacon Hills had been the first place that had become a strong permanent home since the moment you made friends. You cherished the times of happiness you had with your older sister and the pack. In the wise words of Robert Frost, nothing gold can stay. It was true.

“Do you want to go practice shooting?” Your dad asked nonchalantly.

“So soon after that death?”

“We’ve delt with worse and you know it.” He pointed a knife at you, “A murder like this is a hell of lot more welcome that the supernatural.”

“Someone still died.” You grumbled slumping down in your chair.

Chris sighed before glancing at the clock watching his remaining child sulk. Both had changed after Allison’s death for the better if you looked at it one way. It didn’t mean it didn’t hurt when her birthday rolled around and each locked themselves in their rooms.

“Go pick up the food.” He sighed tossing a pair of keys to you.

Without looking you caught them and hastily grabbed one of Allison’s daggers and pushing it into your boot. You quickly inserted the key to the car and drove the distance to the only good diner in town.

You sat there remembering the last time you had drove yourself, well more accurately when you drove. Stiles had been knocked out cold with an attack from the supernatural and you practically did illegal stunts to make it to the hospital.

“Get over it.” You mumbled to yourself as you opened the door of the diner. Inside was a remotely busy rush following the welcome back dance.

You hated dances. The last one your were at was sophomore year with Allison.

“Y/N!” Pop’s grinned, “You’ll have to hang tight, the deep fryer wasn’t working for a couple minutes.

You chuckled before settling into a booth with a good view outside. You watched as a group of teens laughed as they walked into the diner. You saw the resident hot shot Archie Andrews as his friends. Veronica Lodge, Betty Cooper and Jughead Jones. You shifted as they sat int the booth across from yours. It reminded you of your favourite times with the pack.


It was late when the pack dragged their asses to the diner that sold adequately healthy fast food. A lot of your were limping or injured in some kind of way following the shit kicking you had received against the Alpha pack. Thankfully all was right again…for now.

“Is my head supposed to hurt this much?” Stiles groaned shaking his head as Scott patted his bed friend on the back.

“You were knocked unconscious in a car accident. It’s safe to say that yes it should be for the next little while.” Lydia chuckled as she fixed her hair once more.

“What happened to you guys!” A young waiter exclaimed at the sight.

“We were playing a game of football.” You lied quickly.

Placing your orders in you all began to laugh tryng to ease the heightened feelings from the win you had managed. It was a shame everyone was under age and the diner didn’t sell alcohol because you could use some. Inside you all had different kinds of drinks.

“To a safe Beacon Hills!” You exclaimed clinking glasses with everyone.

“For now.” Stiles said meetings everyone’s eyes, “We killed ourselves and came back. It’s going to get a lot worse isn’t it.”

“We can face it. Together. We’ll come out the same.” You said before taking a long sip of your milkshake.

Boy were you wrong on that one.


You shuffled as a tear rolled down your cheek and you brushed it off. You hated thinking of those times at the same time. You missed them so much but in agreement with your dad you both needed to be away. It couldn’t be going to bad given no calls had happened.

“Y/N right?”

You looked over to see Betty looking at you concerned. The others watched the interaction with the same expectations. Veronica and Archie had already tried to make friends with you when you arrived in the summer but you wouldn’t have it.

“Yes.” You grumbled irritated by the tears wanting to move down your cheeks.

“Are you okay?”

“Fine.” You practically hissed before pulling the sleeves of your sweater down further, “Go back to gossiping.”

“We aren’t gossiping, man your one very angst teen.” Jughead said watching you.

“Says you.You’ve been attached to your computer since that kid was killed.”  You groaned leaning back but it stopped when the diner door slammed open with a strong force.

It was too strong so you were on your feet in a defensive position with the Chinese dagger neatly swinging in your hand. You heard a gasp from Betty as the dagger glinted in the dark lighting. Your head tilted as the frantic person landed their eyes on you with a friend sharing the same movements.

“Scott? Stiles?” You exclaimed shocked before the spazzing teenager harshly dragged you out of the diner. A concerned and worried Archie Andrews frantically followed you out with his friends.

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Do you want a part 2? If so let us now and it can be longer, if you want?

PART TWO

Writing Is Hard

Summary: Dean finds the blog you use to read smutty fan fiction. And of course, he decides he can write a better story about himself. You help.

Warning: Smut, some dirty talk, mutual masturbation, all kinds of fan fiction clichés

Word Count: 4350

A/N: This is all written with love for fan fic. I’m teasing, not putting it down in any way. And thanks to @littlegreenplasticsoldier​ for being a great beta and being generally flawless. Hope you enjoy! XOXO


No. This isn’t happening.

This is one of those moments you’d had weird nightmares about, dreams that left you embarrassed and feeling all icky the next day until you finally convinced yourself that it wasn’t real. And just like those moments, this one will end any second now. You’ll wake up in some motel bed, Dean will be in the next room with Sam, asleep or showering or eating or anything but standing over your laptop with that look on his face.

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GoT S07E01 Thoughts

I don’t know if this will be a regular occurrence, but for the first episode, I’m going to be laying out my thoughts about the premiere in what will probably be a lengthy post that’s half gibberish and half maybe something substantial. Undoubtedly, not eloquent. These are just thoughts and nothing more that I’ve jotted down while watching and am now about to elaborate on. 

Let’s begin with what has to be one of the most epic intros in Game of Thrones ever. No, I don’t want to hear your counter. You will not sway me on this. I don’t care, mate, because this scene was bloody awesome. The minute Filch Walder Frey’s face popped up, I knew it was Arya and I knew shit was about to go down. Now nobler humans might be like ‘Oh, Arya is going down a dark path; this is bad’ but her gathering all of the Freys in one room was poetic justice. What they did at the Red Wedding warranted retaliation and this has been a long time coming. 

It was beautiful the way it happened too – a dark sadistic glee washed over you as you watch a room full of men choke on their drinks as Arya stands there telling them they should’ve killed all the Starks, and “leave one wolf alive and the sheep are never safe.” 

Look, people really hated that line prior to the premiere, but in context, it was wonderful, it was justified, it was so unbelievably satisfying. Then when Arya goes, “tell them the North remembers; tell them Winter came for House Frey”, you bet I got goosebumps. Like I’ve said time and time again, ‘Winter is Coming’ is not just a warning, but it’s a battle cry for the Starks. This is their season. When the world dies, the lands become barren and the knights of Summer struggle to survive, the North prevails, and the Starks are at the helm of this changing tide. It’s their time now, and beginning it with Arya avenging the loss of her family is a truly poignant way to set the tone for the rest of the season. Yes, we’ll see Cersei and Dany duking it out, but at the end of the day, this is about the Starks. 

The next thing I jotted down was ‘zombie giants’, which is just to say that: holy shit, there are zombie giants! Seeing the sheer number of White Walkers, it makes you realise how utterly inconsequential Cersei and Dany’s fight for the Iron Throne is. There won’t be a kingdom to govern when those icy bastards get past the Wall, and believe you me, they will eventually. No matter what anyone says, that Wall is coming down probably at the end of this season. 

Seeing Dolorous Edd as Lord Commander gave me goosebumps as well. I adore him; I love him, and I swear to god if he dies, I will kick someone’s ass, so he’s probably going to die. But him meeting Bran and Meera made my heart race. They are so close to Winterfell and we’re so close to another Stark reunion. Also, hey Bran, I know the world is ending but cheer up, pal. 

Now we get to the highly talked about scene with Jon and the Northern houses. First of all, I felt so euphoric when Jon told the North that they would need every man and woman, boy and girl fighting in this battle. Even more so when Lyanna spoke up and basically told the men in the room to shut up about it. Her “I don’t need your permission to defend the North!” speech was seriously my top five favourite moments of the episode. The look of pride on Brienne’s face as well. I wonder, however, if this means Sansa might learn how to fight? I don’t see it. She’s a diplomat, a politician, but she should know some self-defence. Jon should teach her. Late at night. Alone. Some flirty teaching…. I’m getting sidetracked. 

Speaking of Jon and Sansa though, can I just say to that redditor who apparently saw the first episode: ‘Hey buddy, you were wrong! And if you interpreted that scene as Jon putting Sansa in her place then you really are a sexist creep.’ Because while yes, Sansa does argue with Jon in public and Jon does tell her his word is final, he in no way puts her in her place. And there is no moment where the other Houses laugh at her. In fact, going by the murmurs of agreement, quite a large amount of lords and ladies wanted Jon to give Umber and Karstark lands to the houses who didn’t fight for Ramsay. 

I also want to clarify something here before anti’s get all up in arms about this scene (not that I think any of them follow me or stalk my blog but if you do: hi, how are ya?). While I do agree with Jon’s decision, in the end, I also understand Sansa’s opinion on the matter. If I had gone through what she had under the ministrations of Ramsay and knew that these Houses who have sworn up and down in the past to fight for the Starks sided with him, I’d be furious. There wouldn’t be a damn thing anyone could say to me to get me to forgive their indifference and compliance in the trauma I went through. Sansa has every right to want to strip the Umbers and Karstarks of their land. I can even understand being angry with Jon for not understanding this, but here’s the thing, she wasn’t.

Immediately after this extremely public argument, it cuts to a scene of Jon and Sansa talking about it. They didn’t fight, let the emotions fester and build up resentment. No, Jon and Sansa talked it out. He told her not to undermine him in public and she told him a king needed to be questioned lest he ends up like Joffrey. Then when he asks her if she thinks he’s like Joffrey, her eyes lose that fight and there’s fondness in it, as she tells him firmly that he is the furthest man from Joffrey she had ever known. Although they’re arguing and disagreeing on important political decisions, there’s fondness and trust and respect in the way they talk to each other. 

What I find interesting is that after Jon and Sansa’s scene, they cut straight away to Jaime and Cersei. Two pair of (sort of) siblings and yet two vastly different relationships. The placement of these two scenes is no coincidence. The two relationships act as literary foils for one another. Both are fighting and arguing, but in contrast, Jaime and Cersei are clearly on very different paths from one another. There’s wariness, disbelief, and disappointment in the way Jaime looks at Cersei; and she is so consumed with her grief, anger, power, she can’t see that he is questioning her very right to be on the throne. They are shot as two opposing figures circling each other with lots of space in between them. On the other hand, Jon and Sansa were shot close together, always within inches from another, with dimmer lighting, and more physicality (ie. Sansa touching his arm to assure him and let him know she may argue but she is on his side). 

Don’t dismiss the sequence of these scenes. Nothing in this show is a coincidence. 

Moving on, I love Sam and I am so excited to see him again, but dear lord, that was the most disgusting series of shots ever. I felt physically ill. Please never again. But I wonder if he discovers the dragon glass at Dragonstone this early in the season, what else will he uncover in the Citadel? There’s definitely more in store for Sam’s storyline and I wonder if it might be something to do with R+L=J. People have theorised about Sam confirming it somehow. We’ll see, I guess.

Nothing really of substance to say about the Brienne, Podrick and Tormund scene, but it made me laugh out loud. Tormund is the physical embodiment of the heart eyes emoji. And his “you’re a lucky man” to Podrick when he gets knocked down by Brienne was such great comedic timing and brilliantly hilarious. 

I wish I could play this next scene on a loop. Sansa telling Littlefinger off has to be the greatest ‘screw you’ to all the people clambering for StarkBowl just because they don’t like Sansa. I love when she says to him, and I’m paraphrasing here, “you don’t have to get the last word. I’m sure it’s probably something clever” and just dismisses him like he’s nothing, which he is. It was so queenly, so regal and so cutting. It was exactly like Sansa. She may not have a sword, but her tongue is sharp enough to wound. 

The biggest surprise of the episode was seeing bloody Ed Sheeran. When we heard the singing, I said that whoever that was had a great voice, and low and behold, it’s bloody Ed. I knew there was a huge musical guest star but this totally surprised me. I love this scene though. Arya’s always been on a very rigid path for vengeance. Those who serve the Lannisters are in the wrong and there’s no grey area about it, but you can see her sitting there listening to these men caught in someone else’s war longing to be home with their fathers, wives, daughters, etc. and realise that they are victims of this war just like everyone else. I wonder how that’ll change (if it does at all) Arya’s journey towards vengeance because truth be told, I am worried about her this season. Next on her list is Cersei, but we all know Cersei will either die by the hand of Jaime or by Tyrion (probably Jaime), so where will that leave Arya? Will she give up her quest and head home to Winterfell? Or will she die trying? 

You know what? I do like the Hound. I like his redemption arc. And although I don’t believe it makes up for all the bad shit he did prior to it, I am intrigued to see where he goes from here. Also, this line is hilarious: “it’s my luck I’d end up with a band of fire lovers.” 

Now, what I’m about to say people might nitpick with me being an anti-Dany person, but honestly, I’m not. I just thought the whole Dragonstone sequence was incredibly boring. It was exciting the first thirty seconds, but it dragged on for so long. Then when she stands at the table and says, “shall we begin?” it was just so anticlimactic. It was the dullest part of the episode and I’m hoping it gets more interesting for her soon. Actually, no doubt it will be considering this is her make or break moment, but let’s be honest, that sequence was way too long. 

Anyway, I’m done. Those are my thoughts. Let me know what you guys think!

Vow

*swamped with homework and feelings and managed to shell this out a month late…I’m a mess™*

Request:  Hii can i have a drabble thingy game with jimin?TY😙😉 12,23 by  rebelliousjvmin

Word Count: 8.6k

Originally posted by bwipsul

He’s a literal angel


You were immersed in a deep sleep, tired from working on a large project that was worth half your grade. In you attempt to disconnect from the world around and sleep peacefully, you blocked out the sounds and all touch with reality. The sudden dip in your bed didn’t bother you, the presence of another body and an arm haphazardly wrapping around you, these were things you were blocking out. Until you felt a finger on your cheek.

“Hey, roomie.”

“I hate you.”

“You know you love me.”

“Kiss my ass, Jimin.” You used to think you were lucky to be paired up with your best friend in the dorms of your university. Until you realized he was a clingy, sassy and messy guy that never failed to annoy you. His leisure attitude towards school was opposite to your dedication to reading every word of your textbook. He was a jock, baseball being the reason he was here in your room and cheekily smiling at you.  

“I wouldn’t mind doing that.” You whacked him in the face with your pillow, wanting him to leave your room but he instead pulled you closer against his chest.

“Let go of me, you pervert.”

“You told me to kiss your ass, now…”

“I swear to god, Jimin, I’ll suffocate you in your sleep.”

“Kinky. I always wanted to test out breath play.”

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