oh how i wish i could have been there

STORY TIME:

I work in a decent sized, local, indie bookstore. It’s a great job 99% of the time and a lot of our customers are pretty neat people. Any who, middle of the day this little old lady comes up. She’s lovably kooky. She effuses how much she loves the store and how she wishes she could spend more time in it but her husband is waiting in the car (OH! I BETTER BUY HIM SOME CHOCOLATE!), she piles a bunch of art supplies on the counter and then stops and tells me how my bangs are beautiful and remind her of the ocean (“Wooooosh” she says, making a wave gesture with her hand)

Ok. I think to myself. Awesomely happy, weird little old ladies are my favorite kind of customer. They’re thrilled about everything and they’re comfortably bananas. I can have a good time with this one. So we chat and it’s nice.

Then this kid, who’s been up my counter a few times to gather his school textbooks, comes up in line behind her (we’re connected to a major university in the city so we have a lot of harried students pass through). She turns around to him and, out of nowhere, demands that he put his textbooks on the counter. He’s confused but she explains that she’s going to buy his textbooks.

He goes sheetrock white. He refuses and adamantly insists that she can’t do that. It’s like, $400 worth of textbooks. She, this tiny old woman, bodily takes them out of her hands, throws them on the counter and turns to me with a intense stare and tells me to put them on her bill. The kid at this point is practically in tears. He’s confused and shocked and grateful. Then she turns to him and says “you need chocolate.” She starts grabbing handfuls of chocolates and putting them in her pile.

He keeps asking her “why are you doing this?” She responds “Do you like Harry Potter?" and throws a copy of the new Cursed Child on the pile too.

Finally she’s done and I ring her up for a crazy amount of money. She pays and asks me to please give the kid a few bags for his stuff. While I’m bagging up her merchandise the kid hugs her. We’re both telling her how amazing she is and what an awesome thing she’s done. She turns to both of us and says probably one of the most profound, unscripted things I’ve ever had someone say:

"It’s important to be kind. You can’t know all the times that you’ve hurt people in tiny, significant ways. It’s easy to be cruel without meaning to be. There’s nothing you can do about that. But you can choose to be kind. Be kind.”

The kid thanks her again and leaves. I tell her again how awesome she is. She’s staring out the door after him and says to me: “My son is a homeless meth addict. I don’t know what I did. I see that boy and I see the man my son could have been if someone had chosen to be kind to him at just the right time.”

I’ve bagged up all her stuff and at this point am super awkward and feel like I should say something but I don’t know what. Then she turns to me and says: I wish I could have bangs like that but my darn hair is just too curly.“ And leaves.

And that is the story of the best customer I’ve ever had. Be kind to somebody today.

catfruits  asked:

Okay, so, I'd love to read a little something by you set in a world where Lavender made it out of the Battle of Hogwarts. Maybe not okay, but alive?

Once upon a time, Lavender had wanted everyone to look at her. She had been the kind of kid who put on dramatic plays for her stuffed animals, for any visitors to the house, and for any neighbor or passersby she could snag from the front yard.

Dating Ron in sixth year had been fun, most of all because everyone had kept sneaking glances at her. She had heard her name in curious whispers and she had grinned and giggled into Parvati’s shoulder.

Everyone was looking now, or pretending not to. She heard the whispers– oh it’s that poor Brown girl. Can you imagine, if it was your daughter, if it was you? Oh and she was so pretty before, too–what a pity–almost makes it worse, doesn’t it?

“You know Professor Lupin was a werewolf?” Hermione said, ten minutes into a very awkward lunch she had asked for in an equally awkward letter.

Lavender pushed a sauteed carrot through a little puddle of pasta sauce. “I think everyone heard about that one. Someone told the papers, or something, right?”

“Er, yes,” said Hermione. “Snape did. Which is what I– I mean, it’s related. Oh, I wish you’d gotten to talk to Remus about this. He was a lovely man.”

“Not as lovely as Lockhart,” Lavender said and she and Hermione spent a moment in wistful remembrance. “God, I feel old,” Lavender said.

“Anyway, Snape,” said Hermione. “Snape and Lupin. When Lupin was at school, Snape would make him a potion that would… tame him, on full moons. He could just curl up in his office and sleep by the fire. If you’re interested, I’m trying to learn how to brew it myself.”

Lavender shook her head. “We’re not friends,” she said. “Never have been. So why are you doing all this?”

Hermione looked like she was trying to say “we’re friends,” but she couldn’t get it out. “I was there, once, when Lupin turned without the potion. I was so scared. I thought we were going to die.”

“Afraid I’ll sniff you out on a dark night?” Lavender said, face twisting as she sank back into her wicker chair.

“No, I–” Hermione squeezed her eyes shut, and all the hesitation was making Lavender more and more uncomfortable. Even at eleven, Hermione had bulldozed through things. She didn’t waver. “I was so scared, but I think it was even worse for him. It hurt, but he looked so scared, too, I–”

“I know how it feels,” said Lavender, very quietly, and Hermione snapped her mouth shut. Lavender took a big sip from her tea. It was still steaming– it had not taken long to exhaust small talk, between the two of them.

Hermione cleared her throat and tried again. “I’m trying to do the right thing. I’m trying to make amends. I’m trying to– make things better. Do you want this?”

Lavender put her mug back down, shaking out scalded fingers, and said, “Yes.” Then, because her mother had raised her right, she said, “Thank you.”

“That sounds like a weird conversation,” said Parvati, whose door Lavender went and knocked on after she and Hermione had split the bill with the precise-to-the-Knut math of the vaguely acquainted and recently employed.

Lavender kicked through the fall of autumn leaves that had collected in front of the porch swing. “She was trying to be nice, I think.”

“She’s not very good at it,” said Parvati.

-

Her father wept. He tried not to but he was a crier, always had been.

“You were so brave,” said Lavender’s mother, cupping her cheeks in her warm hands and not even flinching at the scar tissue under her palms. “We are so proud.”

Lavender’s mother was a Muggleborn, daughter of a math teacher and a door-to-door salesman (“now there is a profession that requires some magic,” her grandfather used to tell her).

Her father was a wizard and he was trying hard not to cry, bending down to pet the dogs weaving between all their ankles. Lavender bent down, too, scratching behind Fiddlestick’s floppy ears while Mopsy cleaned her cheek forcefully. “Hey,” she said, and her father looked up, trying to firm his wobbly chin.

“You know I’m proud of you, too,” he said, trying not to tremble on it. “I just…” He reached out to squeeze her knee gently. “You did everything right. You did everything good. I’m so proud of you, chickadee.”

“I know,” she said, and she did. He was a Gryffindor, too.

-

It took Hermione more than a month to figure out the potion sufficiently well enough that she’d let Lavender try it. She was founding a non-profit for nonhuman rights, too, after all, as well as doing a fair few local speaking gigs, petitioning the Wizenagamot on a half dozen issues, getting an advanced degree, and supposedly, at some point, sleeping.

It took more than a month, so Lavender spent another night locked in her parents’ newly fortified cellar. She didn’t remember much, but she woke up with her throat sore and her nails ragged. The door was gouged from the inside. She wondered if she had been screaming. She wondered if that’s what the howls were. She felt like screaming, maybe, a little.

The door cracked open the moment the moon had dropped down below the horizon, outside. Her mother came in with a tray of her favorite breakfast foods– danishes and boiled eggs, steaming hot cocoa with the barest splash of bitter coffee in it.

Parvati came stomping down the stairs after her. “Graceful,” said Lavender. She winced at the roughness of her voice.

“Look who’s talking,” said Parvati. “Up, c'mon, eat your breakfast. We’re doing midnight manicures. Your dad says he’ll let us doll up his nails, too.”

The next full moon night, Lavender locked herself in the cellar again. “It should be safe,” Hermione had said. “It should. I mean, I’ve done all the tests. I followed all the instructions. It should work.”

Lavender didn’t remember, because she never remembered– she didn’t recall the cellar door unlocking and opening after ten minutes of post-moonrise silence. She didn’t recall Parvati Wingardium Leviosa-ing a comfy chair down the stairs, or her sitting down and pulling out a stack of Witch Weeklys, nor did she remember curling up on Parvati’s fuzzy button slippers and going to sleep.

But she did remember waking up in the morning, her cheek pressed into a soft pillow. She was tattered under a thick blanket, but she was human and looking upward at Parvati’s slack, sleeping face. Her dark plaits tumbled, curling, over the soft pink polka dots of her pajamas.

Lavender pulled herself up to sitting, stole the open Witch Weekly, and waited for Parvati to wake up.

-

“You’re going to be alright,” Professor Trelawney said and she wasn’t even looking at Lavender’s palm, just holding her hand tight in her cold fingers. “You’re going to be happy. You’re going to be fine. People are going to love you and stand by you and we will be there.”

The tower room was just the same as Lavender remembered it, down to the spicy-sweet tea and Trelawney’s big blinking eyes. Lavender squeezed her hands back. “I love you, too, professor.”

“You know, I think you can call me Sybil. It seems the time for it.”

Dean and Seamas’s housewarming for their ugly little first flat was a crowded mess, but the afterparty wasn’t. Lavender and Parvati came by with paint swatches, opinions, and hangover remedies. They ate greasy Chinese food on the floor, because it was about as comfortable as the couch.

They came back the next week, and the next. Parvati conjured a crackling fire in a big fruit bowl Dean’s mother had given him and they all sat around it like they were back at Gryffindor Tower’s hearths, procrastinating on homework.

On nights like that they sometimes talked about Hogwarts, but most of the time they didn’t. Dean had started drawing again and he walked them through his notebooks– his sisters, caricatures of the customers he dealt with in Ollivander’s wand shop, the snarky little comics he’d always scrawled in the edges of his notes. Parvati told them about the Auror trainees’ antics, going ut on their first field missions with their mentors. “All bravado and caffeine,” she said. “Bunch of show-offs.”

“So you fit in well, then?” Dean said.

“Nah, that’s Lav,” Parvati said. Dean and Seamas glanced warily at Lavender, but she just giggled and reached for another potsticker.

Seamas was considering going back to school. “Hermione’s been badgering me about it,” he said. “Says I have a talent for pyrotechnics, and there’s a whole major for fire magics at Brinxley.”

“What about you, Lav?” said Dean. “You still thinking about vet school?”

“What?”

“Oh, uh, that’s the Muggle word. Veterinarian– a medimagizoologist?”

“The schools aren’t too interested in a werewolf as a student,” Lavender said, shrugging.

“Not that that stops Hermione from showing up on the doorstep with half-penned anti-discrimination lawsuits she wants Lav to star in,” Parvati said.

“When does she sleep?” said Dean.

Little children asked about it in the street sometimes. “Mum, why’s her face like that?” “How come she’s walking all funny?”

Sometimes their parents turned to Lavender with eager bright eyes in the grocery store line, expecting her to answer. (“I got hurt, but I’m okay now.”) Sometimes they shushed their kids and gave her little apologetic half-smiles, glancing away from the raised lines of scar tissue. Sometimes they pulled their children closer to them and crossed to the other side of the street.

Harry Potter had a godson. Teddy Lupin was four the first time Lavender met him, just outside Gringotts. Teddy clung to Harry’s pants leg, peeking past his godfather’s hanging robe. “Why’d her face do that?” he said and Harry dropped a hand down into Teddy’s hair, which was bright green.

“She’s just like your dad,” said Harry.

“Puppy,” Teddy whispered, eyes wide with joy, and his skin shifted until scars stood out stark on his smiling chubby cheeks.

Lavender bit her lip and sank down to her knees in the street, holding out a hand. “Why aren’t you handsome, chickadee. What’s your name?”

Once, Lavender had wanted everyone to look at her.

She hated stories that told you to be careful what you wished for. Were you not supposed to want things? Was that the answer? She was nearly twenty two and she could make things fly with a few whispered words. She had lived through her seventh year at Hogwarts, had stepped out into that battle with her wand out and her eyes open. She had woken up–hurting, wounds tended, poison in her veins–to Parvati sleeping on Sybil’s shoulder at her bedside.

She had cried when they told her about the lycanthropy. She had cried over her bunny because a fox had gotten to it. Both times it had been with her face buried in Parvati’s shoulder and Parvati’s hands stroking her hair. She wished and she wanted– animals that never left you, bodies that never betrayed you.

Once, Lavender had wished that everyone would look at her, and now they were. Everyone was looking– so Lavender held Parvati’s hand in the grocery store at midnight, because they had both been craving green apples. Everyone was looking– so Lavender curled her hair and pinned it up, wore tank tops and little skirts on any day hot enough that she could get away with it, laughed aloud in public spaces. Everyone was looking– so Lavender knocked on Hermione Granger’s door one evening and asked, “What would it take to get me into magical vet school?”

Hermione had her bushy hair all tied back and a quill behind each ear. “A lot. There’s some statutes we’ve got to fight, and even if we can handle that you’ll still be under intense scrutiny for years.”

“I can work with that,” said Lavender, and Hermione grinned.

When Teddy marched down the aisle with the rings, his hair was a shimmering swirl of pink and purple to match the flowers woven into Parvati’s braids and Lavender’s curls.

The honeymoon would be short–a week in magical Paris in the townhouse of a Beauxbaton girl they’d befriended fourth year. Lavender had more medical textbooks packed into her luggage than anything else. Parvati’s bags were lined with half-finished reports that she’d owl to Auror headquarters from a rumpled Parisian morning, getting croissant crumbs in the bedsheets.

But for now the hall was filled with pink and purple blooms, white candles, familiar faces. Hermione stood in a violet bridesmaid’s dress, and Dean and Seamus in matching ties at Parvati and Lavender’s respective backs. Padma was luminescent with joy over Parvati’s shoulder. She had taken Lavender aside that morning for a short quiet walk in the mist and told her, “I know tonight’s what makes it official, but I’ve thought of you as my sister for years.”

When Lavender leaned forward and kissed her wife, her father burst into proud tears in the front row. He was a crier, always had been. Lavender buried her face in Parvati’s shoulder, smiling so hard she thought she might come apart. Her scars creased and puckered in her dimples, and she was beautiful, beautiful, beautiful.

I love how each time Sansa reunites with a sibling they really drop Some Shit on her….she reunites with Jon and it’s all “oh by the way he was resurrected yesterday” and then Sansa is reunited with Bran only for him to tell her he’s the Three Eyed Raven and could see her worst moments…like by the time Arya rolls around going “I have a kill list” Sansa’s just giggling because of course why wouldn’t Arya have a fucking kill list. Honestly this also explains why Sansa has been going “I wish Jon were here” after being reunited with both Bran and Arya at this point he’s her most well adjusted sibling lmao 

I’m so fucking tired, honestly.
Shit is getting worse. I don’t know what the fuck is wrong with me I just don’t know.
It’s like, everything that is good never stays, and that freaks the shit out of me.
It’s crazy how fast good things go away from my life. Everything is temporary, and oh God, I’m so tired of it.
I’ve been realizing how unlovable I am, and that makes me extremly sad. Cus you know what?
I crave affection, I crave the simple things, like holding hands, kissing, cuddling, BEING LOVED. Simple as that.
But I just don’t see myself having that, ever.
Getting attached to people too easily fucks me over. I wish I could control my feelings.
My head is a huge mess, and so is my life.  
I just want to leave everything behind and go somewhere, far away from here, I want find some peace in myself.
I want my emotions to be stable. And above all, I want to be truly loved, having someone who never gives up on me. Just that.
The more subtle kind of gender dysphoria

For the longest time, I couldn’t tell whether I had gender dysphoria or not.

I don’t get severe “flare-ups” of dysphoria often. Most of the time it’s so low that I can ignore it. As I’ve said before, when I do feel dysphoric, it’s usually because I got triggered by being in a heavily gendered space, or by being treated in a strongly gendered way by other people. I’ve had other sources of dysphoria, too, but much more rarely.

When people talk about gender dysphoria, we almost always describe it as a feeling - a negative emotion or subjective experience, which exists only inside your head. So the implication is that, if you aren’t currently feeling unhappy or uncomfortable about gender stuff, then you must not be currently experiencing dysphoria. And if you never feel those nasty twinges of awkwardness and wrongness, then you must not have gender dysphoria at all…right?

No. There’s something else going on that we need to consider: coping mechanisms.

Keep reading

A Blue Prince To Own, Chapter 1

“Hey, Lance, why are you being so quiet? Not that we don’t enjoy it of course, it’s just strange.”

Do you even care?

“Oh, I’m fine, just tired.”

Why doesn’t anyone notice when I lie?

“Okay.”

“God, dude, get some more sleep, you’ll be useless during a mission if you’re a walking zombie.”

I’m useless when I’m well rested.

“Hunk, help me in the lab, will you?”

“Sure, Pidge.”

You forgot about our plans so easily. Should I watch movies alone then?

“Shiro, you up for sparring?”

“Good thinking, Keith.”

Okay, I guess all the chores are left to me too, then.

“Well, I’m glad everyone’s found something to do now that the mission is over.”

No one asked me, but that’s okay.

After cleaning the healing pods, I sigh and clamber into Blue’s cockpit. She can sense my sadness because I can sense her worry and I just slink down into my chair and slowly begin to fade. I really like napping. When I’m asleep, I don’t have to be anywhere near my uncaring teammates or occupied best friend, or really reality in general.

Except, this time it’s different. I awake to the sounds of static popping in my helmet that’s a few paces away and Blue sounds panicked in my head. The blue holographic screen in the cockpit is stirring, despite me having not touched any of the controls. Why am I so calm? Maybe it’s because I’m slowly starting to not care about myself just like the rest of Voltron.

After a few minutes, it stops. Then, a person appears on the holographic screen and all I can do is jump in surprise. Even my reactions are lackluster and late. It’s an oddly human looking Galra man with long white hair and eyes that have pupils, unlike most Galra. He’s handsome, is my first thought, which is weird because he’s part of the species systematically destroying the universe but so is Keith and we fuck sometimes.

“Hey.” I say, surprised at how hazy the sound of my own voice is.

“Greetings and Salutations Blue Paladin!” The guy says excitedly with a wide grin. “It is I, Prince Lotor, heir to the Galra empire!”

I rub the sleep from my eyes with my wrist. “Neat, man. Anything you want?”

“Well, Blue Paladin, I’ve been observing you and I’ve come to proclaim my love.” He’s dressed like a royal might, with fancy purple and black clothes, embroidered expertly with golden detail. “So that you might accept my affections and come to realize your own you might be harboring for me!”

“Ay, well, that won’t exactly happen in one beat? But, hey, nothing better to do than talk to you, so.” I lazily shrug my shoulders and slink down further into my chair.

“Of course! I must make you fall for me so that we should rule the Galran empire side by side. How should I win your love, then, Blue Paladin?”

This is… kind of flattering. “I don’t know, we could get to know each other, maybe get a space Starbucks here and there. I’m tired. You’re not going to like… try and kill me so you can take my lion, right?”

His features tighten. “I should never! My father was a fool to violently and ruthlessly rule like a tyrant, thinking so moronically he could fair against Team Voltron. I seek to bring peace to repair the damage he has caused, though I fear it might never be truly fixed.” His pointy purple ears lower sadly.

“Oh. That sounds really nice. I wish you good luck, then.”

“I have been blessed by your good wishes! How long until you fall for me, Blue Paladin? How long until I at last have your love, my gem?”

Hm. I shrug again, hoping that the gesture is universal. “It depends. We just gotta talk and stuff, yanno? Like, it doesn’t happen right away, you have to work for it. Earn it. I don’t see why you think I’m special, though.”

Prince Lotor cocks his head curiously. “But, my gem, you are so beautiful, so unique, and the Blue Paladin, honored with piloting one of the five lions, tasked with defending the universe. Who wouldn’t think you are special?”

“Uh, you got it wrong.” I flush. It’s been… I’ve never really heard those types of words directed at me. I’d say it’s been a while, but no one’s this nice to me. “I’m more of an annoying, glorified errand boy, filling the place of the Blue Paladin until someone better comes along. I’m not actually skilled at anything except for screwing up.”

“Blasphemy!” He barks and I light up at his passion. “The place of a Paladin is not one that can be simply filled in! It is preserved for thousands of years and given only to those who are worthy! I’ve never met such a humble person in all my years. Do you not see how truly significant you are, Blue Paladin?”

Oh. He’s pulling all my heart strings apart. My eyes sting. “I know I’ll never be equal to my teammates, and I’m fine with it, so. I’ll just try to stay out of the way.”

“But, you…” His eyes grow sparkly and his face lovesick. “You’re perfect, Blue Paladin, with your shiny blue eyes and perfect complexion, resourcefulness and sharp shooting, even the way you can’t see any of that is gorgeous. I simply cannot wait to make you all mine.”

That in particular sends a shiver down my spine. “Uh, that’s - ”

“Ah, I must go, Blue Paladin!” Lotor exclaims urgently, waving his hand as faint sounds of footsteps sound on his end of the hologram. “Thank you for the lovely discussion, but I must bid farewell!”

“N- No problem. You can call me, Lance, though.” His face brightens with a smile just before the connection times out and Blue’s entire vessel returns to being dark.

She asks me what happened. All I can do is smile as my face goes pleasantly warm because I honestly don’t know what the fuck just happened.

chapter 2: https://langst-mccpain.tumblr.com/post/163230017350/a-blue-prince-to-own-chapter-2

batsnotbutterflies  asked:

write your fav a phic for her 16th bday on the 24th? -w- (dont hate me for the phic suggestion bc its full of memories and i wanna see how you recreate it ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ) dan and phil are out and dan keeps using cheesy pickup lines to tease phil and phil ends up taking dan into the nearest public restroom and smut ensues. oh, i KNOW you remember this ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

HI I’M SKYler AND THIS TOOK ME LEGIT FIVE DAYS TO FINISH BUT SUCK MY ASS I DID IT

also u made it sound like we fucked in a public restroom just sayin’

anyways happy birthday pall ily also i’m sorry if i completely butchered our rp i tried ( & i changed stuff a lil clearly ) here we go



“Kiss me.”

Phil laughed, glancing over at his husband and raising his eyebrows. 

“Again?”

Dan whined, swinging their intertwined hands between them, his feet making light noises on the pavement. “Yes, again. I need a kiss.” He stuck out his bottom lip, pouting. Phil rolled his eyes. 

“Fine, fine, I’ll kiss you. Don’t cry.”

He stopped walking, pulling Dan closer by his hand and letting their lips brush. Dan grinned against his mouth, touching his face with one hand to hold him steady and pull him as close as possible. 

“Thank you,” he said finally, pulling back and squeezing Phil’s hand. Phil nodded, starting to walk again. He flashed Dan a crooked smile, poking his cheek. “You taste good.”

Phil’s eyes lit up, and he grinned widely. “Y’know, that’s actually a science thing, when two people taste good to each other-”

“You’ve said.”

Phil laughed, searching Dan’s face. 

“You’re blushing.”  

Dan blushed harder, his hand shooting to his face, his eyes widening slightly. “Oh, am I?” He laughed, his eyes flashing happily. “I guess I still kinda can’t get used to kissing you.” 

“Really?” Phil smirked. “How long have you been doing it, what, seven years?”

“Shut up.”

They were quiet for a bit, and Dan focused on the feeling of Phil’s hand on his and the slight breeze brushing against his face and through his hair. It still felt incredible that he was here, after ages of wishing for it. 

They had gone out for a lunch date and to stop by the gardens, so Phil could ask for shit and Dan could whine about it. They hadn’t done anything like this in a bit, other than their honeymoon. It was mostly hours and hours of staying inside, sleeping and talking and having sex. Lots of sex. And planning for the rest of their lives together. It was kind of heaven. 

Dan glanced over at Phil again; something he could seem to stop doing. His husband. His. It sent a warm jolt of happiness through him every time he thought about it. After all this time- finally his. 

“Hey, Phil?” Dan’s face slowly melted into a grin as something came to mind, and Phil looked at him. 

“Yes?”

Dan squeezed his hand, shifting their fingers so they more easily slid together. He hummed, watching his feet as he walked. 

“Roses are red, my face is too, that only happens when I’m with you,” he said lightly, giggling and licking his lips. 

Phil paused for a moment, sucking in a sharp intake of breath, and laughed almost nervously. 

“Are you kidding? Was that a pick up line?”

Dan shrugged. “Maybe.”

“Whenever I use those you call me an idiot.”

Dan shrugged again, a smile tugging at his lips. “I should call you google, because you have everything I’m looking for,” he muttered under his breath, his eyes flashing. 

Phil puffed air into his cheeks, blowing it out with a huff. God. That cocky bastard, he knew how he was messing with Phil’s head. You could tell just by looking at him, the way he was searching his face, looking for a reaction. 

“Would you like another? I could do this all day.” Dan’s smile widened, and you could see his dimples popping from his cheeks. 

“Fine.” Phil ran his fingers through his hair, pushing it back, and raised his eyebrows at his husband. “Hit me.”

Dan grinned, having gotten the answer he had wanted. “Are you a magician? Because when I look at you, everyone else disappears.” 

Phil groaned, shaking his head. “That’s a good one. You probably stole it from me.”

Dan held a hand to his heart, pretending to be offended. “I did not!” He stepped out in front of Phil, taking both of his hands in his, swinging them gently and walking backwards in front of him. “More?”

Phil sighed. “I’m gonna be honest, Dan, you’re really turning me on right now.”

Dan’s eyes went wide, and his face immediately flushed red. “W-What?” Phil laughed. 

“Seven years of sex, and you still get blushy when I even mention it.” He leaned forward, kissing Dan on the lips briefly. “You’re adorable.” 

Dan glared at him, but it was clear he didn’t mean it. “Whatever.” He let go of Phil’s hands, only to clasp them together in front of him. “One more.”

Phil grumbled something under his breath, but nodded. “It better be one more.” He smirked. “Or we might have to find a bathroom.”

Dan’s eyes went even wider, and he swallowed. He ran his fingers through his hair, mussing up his curls. 

“Your lips look so lonely…” He paused for effect, licking his lips and grinning. “Would they like to meet mine?’

Phil stared at him, his mouth opened slightly, and his eyes flickered over his face. Finally he grabbed Dan’s hand, walking ahead briskly. 

“That’s it,” he said breathlessly. “We’re finding somewhere where I can kiss you senseless.”

Dan stumbled slightly, taken by surprise by Phil’s sudden firm manner. “W-Wait, you were serious…?”

“Of course.” Phil glanced around, at the nearby buildings, looking for a bathroom, preferably with stalls. “You know that drives me crazy.”

Dan hummed, walking quicker to keep up with Phil. “I mean, I hadn’t tried it. I guess now I do.”

Phil nodded, grunting softly and pulling Dan by the hand into a restroom connected to an art gallery. They didn’t even make it to the stall before their mouths were pressed together heatedly, with Dan against the wall, Phil’s hands exploring his body. 

Dan wrapped his arms around Phil’s neck, pulling him as close as possible and tugging his lower lip between his teeth. 

Phil led him with hands on his waist, stumbling blindly until they made it to a stall, closing the door behind them and pinning him against the door. 

“Jesus,” Dan breathed, breaking away to get control of himself, his eyes wide. “You were serious.”

Phil nodded, picking Dan up in a swift movement that they had done a thousand times before, and Dan wrapped his legs around his waist, clinging to him. And then Phil was kissing him again, and his mind was fuzzy. 

They both got increasingly desperate, as they always did, and soon Phil was grinding on him, holding him up by the hips and kissing him deeply. Dan moaned, making the loudest of noises from the smallest of actions. But Phil didn’t even flinch, because he was always like this. 

“You’re gorgeous,” Phil muttered against his husband’s lips, and Dan’s face went hot. 

“Thank you,” he said quietly, scratching down Phil’s back slightly, tightening his legs around his waist. 

Phil hummed against his lips, groaning quietly and resting their foreheads together. 

“Dan…?” 

Dan met his eyes, raising his eyebrows in question. “Yeah?”

“I know it’s gross, but… do you want to have a… quickie…?” 

“It’s not gross,” Dan said quickly, and then blushed even darker. “I mean… yeah. I w-want you now.”

Phil licked his lips, nodding and moving his mouth to Dan’s neck, sucking at the spot he knew was Dan’s favorite. He reached up with one hand, circling his thumb over the hickeys from the night before, and other times as well. 

“Let’s darken these up, shall we?”

Dan whimpered, nodding and letting his head fall back against the stall door, giving Phil room to work. 

Phil immediately sucked at the darkest of them, right above Dan’s collarbone, pushing his sweater out of the way. 

Dan let out a shuddery breath, trying as hard as he could not to moan so loud everyone outside could hear. Phil’s mouth had such an affect on him. 

“You’re strong,” Dan said softly, trying to focus on something other than the immense pleasure shooting through his nerves and making him shiver. 

“Mhm. It’s from holding you up all the time.” Phil pushed him up slightly on the door to get a better grip, as if proving his point. 

Dan pushed his hands beneath Phil’s shirt, feeling his stomach and shoving the fabric up. Soon enough Phil had to set him down so Dan could get his shirt off, and then pick him back up. 

Dan explored his chest slowly; although he had seen and felt the pale skin a thousand times, it still felt new. 

Phil got his jeans down and then helped him shove them off, and Dan pushed Phil’s down his hips. It was messy and shaky and kind of disorganized, but neither of them cared. 

Phil pushed his hands into Dan’s boxers, squeezing his ass and grinning widely. 

“I love your ass.”

“You’ve told me.” Dan giggled despite himself- Phil was almost obsessed with his ass, it was kind of amazing. “Now fuck me.”

Phil tutted, but shoved Dan’s boxers down never the less. “Someone’s being bossy.”

Dan whined as he felt Phil line up, scratching down his back. “Shut up.”

“Tell me to shut up again and I’ll make sure you can’t walk away from this bathroom.” 

That made Dan stay quiet, because as much as he wanted that, he would rather save it for after they got home. 

Phil pushed in and Dan whimpered, burying his face in Phil’s neck and biting down on the soft skin. He pulled back right away, blushing. “Sorry.” He was always nervous he would bite too hard, or would be doing something that Phil didn’t like. 

“Shush,” Phil muttered, his voice slightly tense as he tried to keep himself from pounding into Dan until he screamed. “You can bite me, baby.”

That was all it took to have Dan pressing his mouth against Phil’s shoulder, biting him to muffle his own noises. “You feel so good,” he said breathlessly, moving again so his nose was against Phil’s neck. 

Phil made a soft noise of acknowledgement, thrusting up into him, still holding him up against the door. Dan tightened his grip, making sure he wouldn’t fall. 

“Harder,” Dan moaned, his hair falling over Phil’s shoulder and his toes curling. 

“You sure?” Phil asked, breathing heavily. “I don’t want you to be hurting-”

“Please,” Dan gasped, fucking himself down to meet Phil’s hips. 

Phil licked his lips, nodding and speeding up, listening to Dan’s loud moans and focusing on finding the angles that made him scream. 

“I love your - noises,” he growled, tugging at Dan’s hair gently. Dan just whined in response. 

Dan clung tighter with one arm, using the other to reach between his legs, getting himself off while Phil fucked him. That made him even louder, his thighs shaking from the effort of holding himself up. 

“C-Close,” he choked out, and Phil nodded. 

“Good. C’mon baby…” he nudged his nose against Dan’s, moving Dan’s face so he could kiss him deeply. “Cum for me.” 

Dan whimpered against his mouth, his eyes fluttering shut. He always got at least a little self conscious at this point, no matter how many times they did it.

“Fuck,” he gasped, moving his hand faster and bouncing a bit more to meet Phil’s thrusts. “Fuck, you’re so good, jesus fuck.” 

Phil replaced Dan’s hand with his own, jerking him off and kissing around his mouth gently. 

“C’mon Dan,” he whispered, moving his mouth to Dan’s neck instead. “Cum for me. Mmh, fuck- I’m close.”

Dan came with a loud whine, spilling over Phil’s hand and on both of their stomachs. Phil groaned, thrusting harder and faster than before, pushed to the edge by Dan’s noises and the clenching around him. It only took a matter of seconds for him to let go. 

Dan hopped to his feet, immediately stumbling and practically falling over. Phil caught him, helping him stay on his feet. 

Phil helped him to the bathroom counter, letting him sit there and cleaning them both up quickly with a paper towel. He helped Dan get dressed as well, pulling his boxers and jeans up carefully. 

“Alright,” he said softly, smiling at him. “We should go.” 

Dan bit his lip. 

“I would,” he said slowly, his voice raspy and broken. “But…”

Phil grinned. 

“Yes, Dan, I’ll carry you.” 

anonymous asked:

I just came across one of your posts on love where you mention pride and prejudice in the tags- do you have any more explicit thoughts on what makes it good as a love story? I love p&p and I'd love to hear what you think if you have time!

I don’t have time at all but I can’t resist an invitation to talk about Pride & Prejudice.

P&P has tropes & plot structures that have occured plenty of times in romance before and since–the “misogynist with a heart of gold” that is Fitzwilliam Darcy, the general woman-rejects-man-then-later-accepts-him arc–but I think that it succeeds where a lot of other things with similar narrative structures fail.

the thing about this setup is that provides ample opportunity to showcase love as a transformative force. and fiction with this setup succeeds or fails, imo, on the strength of its success or its failure to do that. a lot of things written in this vein, including modernized or AU-style adaptations of P&P or things that were probably heavily inspired by P&P, fail because there’s no character growth and no transformation. the woman realises that she was silly to reject the man for her silly reasons (which were actually probably very sound) but doesn’t really change in any material way–the man is there to graciously accept her change of heart, but doesn’t change in any material way either. this, incidentally, is why I can’t get behind North & South in the way that I can Pride & Prejudice.

the appeal of Pride & Prejudice for me–and, presumably, the appeal of P&P to a lot of women who are into men, lmao–is that Darcy actually changes throughout the course of the book due to Elizabeth’s influence. we see this, of course, during the scene at Pemberley with the Gardiners, when he behaves w/ actual civility (in ways that are probably familiar to you and don’t need to be dwelled on), and Elizabeth is all,

Why is he so altered? From what can it proceed? It cannot be for me—it cannot be for my sake that his manners are thus softened. My reproofs at Hunsford could not work such a change as this. It is impossible that he should still love me.

but. okay. so what. anyone can change their behaviour for another person, anyone can act the way that they think they have to act to get the girl, so what? the real crux of this imo, and what makes it really compelling to me, is that I don’t think he changed for Elizabeth. because of her, yes, by his own admission, but from the time between her rejection and her arrival at Pemberley, I don’t think he ever thought that he was going to see her again. or at any rate I don’t think he planned to reform (or appear to reform) for the sole purpose of getting her to say yes to him. after she rejected him, he spent a lot of time, on his own, thinking about what she had said and looking back over his own behaviour:

The recollection of what I then said, of my conduct, my manners, my expressions during the whole of it, is now, and has been many months, inexpressibly painful to me. Your reproof, so well applied, I shall never forget: ‘had you behaved in a more gentlemanlike manner.’ Those were your words. You know not, you can scarcely conceive, how they have tortured me;—though it was some time, I confess, before I was reasonable enough to allow their justice.

so he realises, over a long stretch of time, that he was disrespecting Elizabeth, failing to pay attention to her actual feelings (during the proposal scene and before), and expecting his status to be sufficient in securing her acceptance. he realises this by reflecting on himself, at his own impetus, at some distance from Elizabeth, not expecting her to guide him through the process of becoming a better person, not expecting her to automatically love him at the end of this process. he examines himself, not because he’s being guided every step of the way by a Selfless Female Figure, and not because he expects reward, but because it’s the right thing to do. and I think that his behaviour and mindset would have changed even if he never saw Elizabeth again, even if she had said no to him again when he proposed for the second time. (which was a greatly improved proposal, btw–“one word from you will silence me on this subject for ever”? a vast improvement over launching into a proposal without noting the “cold civility” of Elizabeth’s manner. “you are too generous to trifle with me”? a far superior knowledge of her character to thinking that her refuseal was solely due to her “pride [being] hurt by my honest confession of the scruples that had long prevented my forming any serious design”.)

I can’t resist quoting this entire speech as an illustration of my point:

Painful recollections will intrude which cannot, which ought not, to be repelled. I have been a selfish being all my life, in practice, though not in principle. As a child I was taught what was right, but I was not taught to correct my temper. I was given good principles, but left to follow them in pride and conceit. Unfortunately an only son (for many years an only child), I was spoilt by my parents, who, though good themselves (my father, particularly, all that was benevolent and amiable), allowed, encouraged, almost taught me to be selfish and overbearing; to care for none beyond my own family circle; to think meanly of all the rest of the world; to wish at least to think meanly of their sense and worth compared with my own. Such I was, from eight to eight and twenty; and such I might still have been but for you, dearest, loveliest Elizabeth! What do I not owe you! You taught me a lesson, hard indeed at first, but most advantageous. By you, I was properly humbled. I came to you without a doubt of my reception. You showed me how insufficient were all my pretensions to please a woman worthy of being pleased. (emphasis mine)

my only quibble with this is that I would have wished this apology to occur before Elizabeth’s acceptance, but oh well.

of course, Elizabeth changes as a result of all of this too, and that’s part of the point of the book (Darcy’s is the Pride, but hers is the Prejudice). after she realises that she was wrong about Wickham:

She grew absolutely ashamed of herself. Of neither Darcy nor Wickham could she think without feeling she had been blind, partial, prejudiced, absurd.

“How despicably I have acted!” she cried; “I, who have prided myself on my discernment! I, who have valued myself on my abilities! who have often disdained the generous candour of my sister, and gratified my vanity in useless or blameable mistrust! How humiliating is this discovery! Yet, how just a humiliation! Had I been in love, I could not have been more wretchedly blind! But vanity, not love, has been my folly. Pleased with the preference of one, and offended by the neglect of the other, on the very beginning of our acquaintance, I have courted prepossession and ignorance, and driven reason away, where either were concerned. Till this moment I never knew myself.”

similarly, she attends to her shortcomings without outside guidance, and she doesn’t change for anyone in particular. this is important to talk about when discussing how P&P showcases the possibility of transformation, and the transformative power of love. of course, she doesn’t love Darcy at this point, and I’d argue that Darcy didn’t love her at the time of his first proposal either (he was perhaps passionate or infatuated, but real love involves respect for someone and a knowledge of them, and Darcy had neither). what’s really compelling about this for me, what really makes me care, god help me, about this straight white British couple, is that they don’t just go on loving each other w/o changing, they don’t even change because of their love for each other, but they arrive at loving each other through the ways in which they change because of their experiences with each other. and I think that this novel gets at, in a way that a lot of fiction based in the same general premise fails to get at, the concept of love as action, love as respect and mutuality, love as process, and love as transformation.

❝ I know, but I am your idiot ❞

Plot: Jungkook jokingly makes fun of you and hurts your feels but makes it up to you 

Pairing: Jungkook xReader

Words Count: 2,1k+

Genre: Slightly angst/ Fluff

For Anon, I hope you like it cutie!

 - kyu.

Gif isn’t mine, credits to the owner!

Originally posted by jengkook

‘Jagiya!!!’ A voice called through your apartment.

‘In here!’ You called from the lounge.

Your handsome boyfriend came walking in with a smile on his face, ‘And just where I left you.’

‘Ha-ha-ha, very funny.’ You mock, jumping up from the couch and into his arms.

He happily received you into his warm embrace as he wrapped his strong arms around your built and lifted you into the air. With one fluid movement, he spun the both of you as your legs wrapped around his waist. Coming to a stand still, you both looked into each others eyes before he closed the gap between the both of you. You accepted his soft touch, as your lips moulded together and he inserted his tongue when your lips parted for him. He tasted every inch as if it was his first time.

Air being needed, you pulled away and pecked his nose, ‘How was America?’

‘Oh sweetheart,’ He carried the both of you to the couch and sat down, ‘It was amazing. Like the language was slightly hard but Joon hyung helped us every step of the way. I wish you were with me!’

‘You know I would have come if I could.’ You stroked his face, ‘I missed you a lot.’

‘I miss you too.’ He replied, brushing your short hair out of your eyes before a teasing smile spread on his face, ‘Yah! Why can’t you have long hair like normal girls?!’

‘You know that I don’t like long hair.’ You rolled you eyes.

This hadn’t been the first time Jungkook teased you about your choice in having short hair. You liked the way it looked on you and to be honest, it was less admin compared to long hair. It wasn’t as if your hair was cut in a boy hairstyle, but being Jungkook, he didn’t ever take that into consideration. You loved him very much, but his childish qualities made you want to run into the wall sometimes.

‘And why can’t you wear skirts and dresses like other girls?’ He joked around once again.

‘Because shorts and jeans are more comfortable.’ You rolled your eyes.

He placed a hand on your leg and tugged at the material slightly, ‘More like sweatpants and pyjamas.’

‘Only when I am home!’ You retaliated, anger running high and feeling hurt, ‘Did you comeback from America just to point out what it wrong with me?’

’Well n-no Y/N -’

‘If you hate the idea of how I dress and look, then why are you with me?’ You pushed him away, tears brimming your eyes, ‘I am sorry that my comfort and choice of clothing does not suit your ideal type, Jungkook.’

‘Jagiya, I-’

‘I’m sorry that I am not like those female idols and models. I AM SORRY THAT I AM NOT GOOD ENOUGH FOR YOU!’

With that, you ran towards your bedroom and slammed the door with a swift lock, ‘I was just joking….’

Throwing yourself on the bed, you sobbed into the pillow that still lingered with his scent. Angry and pissed, you threw it towards the chest of drawer located close to the door. The object hit a picture frame that came crashing to the ground, shards of glass decorating around the wooden frame. Clutching your legs to your chest, you cradled yourself as the tears flowed from your eyes. Crying, a knock came from the other side of the door.

‘Go away!’ You shouted, ‘Get out of my apartment right now!’

‘Jagiya, I am sorry.’ He apologised, resting his forehead on the door while his fist still stayed attached to the wood ‘I didn’t mean to upset you. I was just joking.’

‘Well you have a pretty cynical way of joking.’ You sniffed.

‘You are just so cute when you get all upset.’ He tried to lighten the mood.

‘Then I must be fucking adorable right now!’ You seethed, ‘Just get out!’

‘But you tease the ones you love!’ He tried to reason.

‘LEAVE!’

Sighing, he walked away from the door. Message after message, he flooded your phone.

I am sorry baby!

Please let me in? I never meant to hurt you, I would never do that on purpose!

BABY PLWEAAASSEEE! You know I will beg until you let me. You are my one and only, I tease you because I love you. Baby please….

Eventually the messages stopped going through and he figured that you switched your phone off. Every now and then, he would knock on your door and you would scream and shout at him all over again. Jungkook teased you a lot, and you were okay with it. This time just made you feel lower of the low. He had just visited a different country with thousands of beautiful woman and was surrounded by dozens on a daily basis. It felt as if he was comparing you to something you knew you could never become. You were a simple girl studying animation, nothing more and nothing less. Just mundane.

‘Baby?’ He knocked for the fiftieth time as two hours passed before an idea kicked in, ‘The spare key!’ Running to the counter, he opened it up and found the treasure, ‘Bingo!’ Back before your door, he unlocked it with a victory ‘Jagiy….’ He faded out at the sight of you passed out on the bed, ‘Aish, why did you cry yourself to sleep?’

Stroking the side of your face with his index finger, he pulled the sheets back and tucked you in. You snuggled into the sheets and all but smiled when you felt a pillow in your arms. It was the one you threw away. Jungkook pecked your forehead and walked to the shattered frame on the floor. Clicking his fingers, he ran a few errands before coming back to your place an hour later. Slowly you shifted and sat up, rubbing your eyes. Blinking, you noticed a bunch of roses on your chest of draws alongside the picture. But it was in a different frame. Slowly the door opened and Jungkook peeked in.

‘You awake.’ He beamed, pushing the door more and entering with a tray,

‘Did I not ask you to leave?’ You crossed your arms, glaring at him.

‘You did,’ He agreed, placing the tray down, ‘But you know I don’t listen, I am the maknae at the of day.’

‘I don’t want to repeat myself, Jungkook.’ Your voice cold.

‘And neither do I. I made your favourite by the way, but it’s hot so be carful.’ He motioned to the cup of steaming hot chocolate on the bedside table.

‘Jungkook…’ You were about to complain before he placed a finger on your lips and silence you.

‘Enough with the threats, okay?’ He stated, ‘Listen I am sorry for what I said. Sometimes I speak and think you will understand what I mean, but this time I was wrong. So wrong that it caused you pain, and to be honest baby, I hate myself more then anything. The fact that I made you cry made me want to run into moving traffic.’ He held your cheek, brushing your hands over the tear stains, ‘Those tears should never be anything but good happy ones.’

‘But-’

‘Let me finish. Yes you aren’t an idol or model, but I do not care! If I wanted those types, I would be dating them. Y/N, we have known each other since junior high and I have never been the happiest when you agreed to be mine.’

‘I’m so plain and boring.’ You sighed, pulling away from his touch.

‘You say that, but I see a girl who is interesting and different.’ He encouraged, ‘A girl that doesn’t care what anything thinks,’ He leaned in and brushed his lips against your, ‘A girl who makes me proud and happy that she is mine…and only mine.’

You leaned in thinking he was going to kiss you but he quickly scooped you in his arms, flinging you over his shoulder ‘Yah!! Kookie, put me down!’

‘No,’ He looked behind him with a warm smile, ‘I am still apologising.’

‘Still?’ You asked him with a raised brow.

‘So first, we are adorned with a bouquet of beautiful roses,’ He walked by the drawers, ‘The scent that lingers on you everyday and makes me feel like I am floating. Second we are confronted with a picture of you and I. The picture taken on your senior dance and one of my favourite moments I have shared with you so far, and with many more to come. The frame is a sleek black one because of the dress you wore.’

‘You are so cheesy.’ You huffed.

‘Oh baby, you don’t even know the half it.’ He walked out the door.

Your nostrils were ambushed by the scent of sweet smelling fumes and was lightly light with fairy lights. The furniture was rearranged and pillows scattered on the ground. In the middle lay a tray of all your favourite foods and drinks. The TV was on and before it laid a bunch of DVD’s which were all animation. Walking in, you still hung on his shoulder before he got into the centre of the room. Placing you down, he circled his arms around your waist and kissed your neck as he stood behind your body.

‘Before us we see the setting of our first day,’ He reminded, ‘The night we made a blanket fort and watched movies all night with laughs and amazing food.’

‘Kookie…’ You whispered, all anger seeping out.

‘The movies on the floor represent you and I.’ He pointed at them as you removed yourself from his hold and picked up the films, ‘And since you learning to be an animator as well.’

‘Lady and the Tramp?’ You asked with a raised brow.

‘You are my lady, elegant and beautiful while I am the run of the mill tramp.’ He pointed out.

‘You aren’t a tramp.’ You chuckled before picking another, ‘Tangled?’

‘What more then an artistic girl and a goofy man who fall in love through adventure. I want to have many with you Jagiya.’

‘Beauty and the Beast?’

‘A little rough around the edges but I have found my beauty who will turn me into the prince.’

Tears slowly began to well in your eyes as you looked at movie after movie, finally looking at one with a cocked head, ‘Big Hero 6?’

‘You will always be my Baymax, to hold and comfort me through the hard and rough,’ He knelt before you and kissed your forehead, ‘Someone who will never give up on me and always make me feel better.’

‘Jungkook….’ You sniffed.

‘No more tears…please.’ He pressed his forehead against yours, ‘I have caused enough pain for one day.’

‘But this isn’t pain,’ You looked at him, ‘This is tears of happiness, the only tears I am allowed to shed remember?’ He nodded in agreement, ‘But why are you doing this?’

‘What?’

‘Showing me all this love after I wanted you out?’

He chuckled with a hearty laugh, ‘Because you are my Princess and I am nothing but the little frog that will make you happy even if you don’t see it quite yet.’

‘Princess and the Frog reference?’ You asked with a raised brow.

‘I would say its my life motto, but sure, movie reference it is.’ He kissed your nose.

‘Neither,’ You said softly, ‘You aren’t a frog. You are the handsome Jungkook whom is my prince and man I love with every ounce of my heart.’ You admitted, ‘I am sorry for snapping at you…’

‘No I deserved it. I shouldn’t have said what I said, it was wrong of me and I am the one sorry for teasing you.’

‘Well you know what they say, you tease the ones you love.’ You smirked

‘Yah! That isn’t fair, I said that and you wanted to throw me out your house!’

‘That shows how much I love you.’ You smiled, brushing your lips against his and closing the deal with a sweet simple kiss.

It was nothing but a pressing of your lips in his. There was no movement at all, just the two of you frozen and soaking up each others presences and warmth . He had done a lot to make it up to you and proved that he was dearly sorry and loved you will every ounce of his heart. You felt his thumb stroking your cheek as you pulled apart and looked into his eyes deeply.

‘You are such a tease.’ He said softly.

‘Says the pot to the kettle.’ You shrugged your shoulders, standing up with him in tow. He laughed as he shook his head and lifted you in a tight hug, ‘You are such an idiot sometimes.’

‘I know, but I am your idiot Y/N. I love you….’

the parallels between no one else and dust and ashes.
“oh, the moon. oh, the snow in the moonlight” vs “did i look up and see the moon and the stars in the sky?”
natasha looks up at the moon and remembers the past, while pierre wishes he could’ve looked at the moon more in his past.
also “this winter sky, how can anyone sleep?” vs “oh why have i been sleeping?”
natasha is unable to sleep while pierre is unable to wake up. and from a metaphorical standpoint, natasha is always in love with someone, from andrey to anatole to eventually pierre, but pierre can’t find love and nonetheless can’t wake up. and when he sees the comet, that’s his chance to see the stars in the sky, but it’s also his awakening. pierre and natasha are connected.

Almost Human Sentence Starters

Starter sentences inspired by Voltaire’s album Almost Human. There should be plenty of themes here for you to work with, from sad starters, to happy starter, to nice one, and even some spiteful ones and ones you can send to those your character hates. Feel free to change the wording. Have fun!

  • You’re the devil’s own
  • You can try to destroy me
  • But not tonight
  • You can fight if you like
  • Your words can’t hurt me
  • Yes, surrender would be nice
  • You can scream if you want
  • Yell your stubborn head off
  • All hail the king of fools
  • Devil knows what possessed me
  • I put no blame on you
  • I brought this all upon myself
  • It’s just this thing I do
  • I wish I was someone else
  • I was only trying to make you smile
  • I never meant to make you cry
  • I can barely take it
  • I don’t think I can make it
  • Oh, please don’t cry, now, smile
  • Oh, if only I could have been there
  • Don’t leave from here
  • Don’t leave me here 
  • I hate it here
  • I need you here
  • I wish I could protect you here
  • I need to see you smile
  • What did I ever do to you that you should treat me this way?
  • What did I ever do so wrong
  • These tears are real
  • I’m spite and hate
  • To the core I’m mean
  • Don’t touch me
  • I couldn’t bear the thought of it, now
  • There’s a field of flowers and they smell like you
  • I kept your room just how you left it
  • Just in case the fates are kind and you come back someday
  • I have seen things with these eyes
  • Made in your image we are at least as twisted and mean as thee
  • Your children have turned on you 
  • You say, you don’t sleep well at night
  • Never did as you should and you claim it was all for our very own good
  • ‘Twas a lie, a magnificent lie
  • Now, your subjects have turned on you
  • Wipe that damn smile off your face
  • All my troubles, all my pain stems from this thing that you call a “brain”
  • What do they call it when another forces your hand
  • I will stay to watch you wither away
  • And with any luck you may be hit by a truck
  • Oh, look, can’t you see how much your death means to me
  • Far be it for I to leave all this beauty behind

Flufflet #3 for @lifeinahole27 as a reward for writing her CSBB!

Sometime after the season 6 finale, the gang decides to look into the whole “song inside me” thing, and Blue is able to return their memories of the whole debacle.


“I can’t believe we forgot all this,” Snow said, almost whispering.

“It was necessary,” Blue said, like that explained everything, which it didn’t. But this was Blue, so it was about as good of an explanation as anyone was ever going to get.

“Yeah, well, it was a memory I could have done without,” Regina said, as though she had a bad taste in her mouth. “Me, singing and dancing like some kind of …”

"Don’t say it,” David warned.

“Disney character,” Henry finished. “I wish I could have seen it and heard it. All I have is the page here.”

“Look,” Emma said. “What matters is that all of your songs–the happy ones, the sad ones, the angry ones–all of them, that’s what I needed to keep the Black Fairy from crushing my heart. So even if you’re embarrassed now, I’m grateful.”

Snow and David smiled almost beatifically, and Regina sighed. Zelena shrugged. “I’ve nothing to be embarrassed about; I sounded fantastic.”

“Better than me?” David challenged.

“I think the Rabbit Hole does karaoke,” Snow said. “If we want to find out.”

Emma snickered at the thought of her dad and Zelena going head to head in a karaoke competition. Killian, though, was uncharacteristically silent.

Actually, he’d been quiet the whole time. She turned to look at him, but he refused to meet her gaze, staring at Blue instead. Weird.


“So, what’s wrong?” she asked as she plopped down on the bed and watched as he finished pulling on his pajamas.

“What’s that, love?”

“What’s wrong? You’ve been acting weird since Blue gave you guys your … musical memories back. Why?” She paused. “Was your song embarrassing or something?”

“No.”

“Well, I know you can’t be insecure about your singing voice. You already know I think you’ve got a sexy one.”

He chuckled. “No.”

“Well, what then? And don’t tell me you’re not upset because we both know you are.”

He sighed as he climbed into bed and pulled her into his arms. “All right, but it’s … odd, I suppose.”

“I’m the daughter of Snow White and Prince Charming and I’m married to Captain Hook. My closest friends are the Evil Queen, and her sister, the Wicked Witch, and Belle from Beauty and the Beast. I think I’m good with odd.”

“Not sure it’s the same variety of odd, love, but fair enough.”

“Just tell me.”

“I’m trying to.” He paused. “You recall your parents and Regina discussing their musical tete-a-tete?”

“Yeah.” God, she would have paid so much money to see that.

“They showed up at the tavern I was drinking at, offered me all the gold and jewels I wanted, and asked for me to take them to Regina. I refused their payment, insisting the only thing that would satisfy me would be my revenge.”

“And by insisting, I’m assuming …”

“Aye, I may have insisted rather musically,” he admitted.

“So you’re upset because you refused?”

“No, I agreed,” he said. “They realized I wanted revenge on the Dark One and told me they had him prisoner. We struck a deal, and I brought them to Regina as requested.”

“Okay.” Was he upset that her parents had almost been complicit in him murdering Gold? That he’d brought them to Regina like they’d asked? “I don’t get what’s wrong,” she admitted.

“I–” He took a deep breath. “It’s just so strange.”

“Killian–”

“Emma, you were there.”

“I–what? No, I wasn’t.”

“Yes, you were.”

Oh. Oh.

“So you’re upset because you bumped into my mom when she was pregnant with me?”

“I’m not upset,” he corrected. “It’s just odd, isn’t it? Here I am, singing about how all I care about is revenge, and my unborn wife is right there.”

She couldn’t help it. She wished she could have, with her husband sitting next to her, clearly struggling with the whole scenario. She should have been supportive and understanding.

But she couldn’t help it. She burst out laughing.

“Oi, this isn’t funny, Swan.” The giggles would not stop. “Swan, please, you can’t tell me you don’t find this at least slightly strange!”

“Oh come on,” she said, trying to regain her breath. “Killian, you’re, like, three hundred years older than I am and that hasn’t mattered to either of us.”

“But this is different!”

“Not that different.” She burst out laughing again. “Oh my god, you, like … practically serenaded me while I was in the womb!”

“It wasn’t a serenade, and I wasn’t–love, you must stop laughing.”

“Sorry, I’m sorry!” But she couldn’t.

He sighed angrily and moved away, turning to shut off the lamp on his nightstand. “Well, good night, then.”

“Killian, come on.” Okay, it was less funny now. Still funny, obviously, but with how upset he was getting, she needed to cut it out. “Look, it’s really not that weird.”

“Isn’t it?”

“Will it be weird when I get pregnant to sing to our unborn kid?” He didn’t answer. “Because that’s a normal thing, you know? And then they come out and grow up into adults, and you don’t sit there feeling weird that you used to sing to them before they were born.”

Not that she’d had any experience in that area. Even if she hadn’t had a cellmate in juvie, she probably wouldn’t have tried singing to her baby bump. But that had been a different situation; if Neal hadn’t given her up, and they’d stayed together, the two of them would definitely have done it.

“I know that’s different,” she said, when Killian didn’t respond. At least her giggles had subsided. “Because it’s your kid and not your future spouse. But still, it’s really not that weird.”

“No, that’s not it.” His voice was tentative, like he was unsure of what he was about to say. “Just … when you get pregnant?”

She froze. She’d made offhanded references to hypothetical siblings for Henry, but at no point had she explicitly told Hook that she wanted more kids. And now it had just kind of slipped out, and not in a way that she would have wanted to put it when she eventually brought it up.

“I’m sorry,” she said quickly. “I know we haven’t talked about it. I shouldn’t have said it.”

“No, no.” And now his arms were around her again. “You want more children, Emma?”

“I mean … yeah, I do. I guess we should have talked about it before we got married and stuff.”

“Because you believe that I’m not interested in having children with you?”

“I didn’t say that,” she pointed out. “Just, you’ve told me that Milah never wanted more kids and you were fine with that.”

“I loved Milah deeply,” he said. “I knew that being with her meant that my only experience as a father would be if we went back for Baelfire, and I was willing to accept that life. But it wasn’t because I didn’t want children of my own.”

“Oh.”

His arms tightened around her. “Swan, I would love to have children with you. More than anything.”

“Oh?” Her heart beat faster.

“Mmhmm.”

“Okay, but you have to promise me something.”

“Anything.”

“You’ve got to sing that song for me.”

We’re not friends
We never will be
Because friends don’t do what you did
Friends don’t fuck and then
Fuck each other over
Friends are forever
We are not friends
We are nothing
We’re not even friends with benefits
Because then you would
Have to talk to me
Communicate in some way
And even friends with benefits talk
We’re nothing honestly
We’re absolutely nothing
And I hate you for it
Because in the beginning
I thought maybe we could be friends
I thought maybe
We could be more
Oh how I was wrong
So this is for you
It’s not me wishing you back
It’s not me begging for your love
Because​ I don’t want you
I don’t want your love
I don’t want anything from you
…I guess we could’ve been friends
I would’ve liked that
—  Friends(I know it’s not us, but a girl can dream)
Ni Times
  • INFJ: I want to learn how to play the piano
  • ESTP: That's great, why don't you take some less-
  • INFJ: I've been wanting to play the piano since I was six, I've always had a special relationship with music
  • ESTP: Uhm well, all the more reasons to take-
  • INFJ: I've been drawn to piano since I can remember. I love music, I love playing, I love watching the hands of people as they play, oh my god have you seen their hands?
  • ESTP: Yeah, they're pretty impressive, so why don't you just-
  • INFJ: They're amazing, I wish I could be like them. I really really really want to play the piano, I'm tired of waiting
  • ESTP: Great! Just take some lessons then, I know a guy that can help you. I'll call him
  • INFJ: Call? Lessons? You mean now? Now as in RIGHT NOW? What if this is just a phase, what if I don't have the patience, what if I find out I don't like it or am not good enough? IT'S TOO SOON! WE MUST NOT RUSH INTO THINGS!!
  • ESTP: ...
  • ESTP: Didn't you say you have been dreaming to play the piano since you were six?
  • INFJ: Yeah?
  • ESTP: How is 15 years TOO SOON???

Oh ALSO nobody’s dreams are interesting to other people but I still would like to document that last night I dreamed I was at a convention, hanging out between panels, and someone pointed me out to Robert Downey Jr. as “the guy who does the Advice posts” and he sidled up to me and just started giving me shitloads of advice. Like right there in the aisle of a panel room, RDJ, telling me how to live my life.

I wish I could remember anything he told me, I’m sure it would have been useful and worthwhile. He’s only fifteen years older than I am and yet has gotten through a lot more living than me. 

I’m pretty sure some of it was about business cards? Or maybe how to choose a really good backpack. 

Superhero AUs #14

Last Meetings

- ‘So, I guess this is it, huh? It was nice…nice doing business with you’ AU
- ‘I did not pay you this much money for your irresponsible, reckless ass to die on me!’ AU

- ‘I’ve got a terminal illness and you used to be my partner-in-crime back in the good old days. Fancy one last hurrah?’
- ‘You couldn’t stop me if you tried. Besides, there’s a bank I’ve been eyeing up on 53rd every time I’ve been to bingo this month, and-’ AU

- ‘No!’ AU
- ‘Oh, my poor little hero. You really shouldn’t have given a new meaning to the phrase ‘bite the bullet’, especially not for me’ AU

- ‘Honey…honey I’m sorry, please forgive me’ AU
- ‘I always knew you were an evil bastard, I just didn’t realise you were a supervillain too’ AU

- ‘So. You’re retiring. (…but what about this? What about…us? Our rivalry? You’re my nemesis, what am I going to do without you?)’ AU
- ‘It’s time to leave the spandex where it belongs: in the past’ AU

- ‘If you die on me, you heroic fucker, I will resurrect you just so I can kill you all over again. Do not test the limits of my mad science because I will succeed, and with immortality in my grasp I’ll be around to ruin your day forever’ AU
- ‘I spend enough of my time trying to stop you breaking laws, could you please leave the laws of nature alone?’ AU

- ‘You’re an assassin’ AU
- ‘I wish you hadn’t realised that. I really am sorry about this’ AU

- ‘Hey, just ringing to ask how your day is going; I hope you’re having fun saving the day and all that heroic junk. Fighting a new villain? Starstrike, yeah, I’ve heard of her. Pretty cute, am I right? Me? Oh yeah, I’m fine. Kinda winded, just lost a fight against one of these new vigilante types, but I’ll see you tonight. I’ll get Chinese on the way home. By the way, you’ve always been my favourite hero. Have a good day!’ AU
- ‘I never got that Chinese’ AU

- ‘Even though I’m dying, I’m still glad it was you that finally killed me’ AU
- ‘You were the greatest hero of them all, and I can only regret that your death was necessary. Rest in peace, my old friend’ AU

- ‘I can’t wait for tomorrow. To finally get married to you will be the best day of my life’ AU
- ‘Me neither. Just one last patrol before the big day, I’ll be back before you know it’ AU

PS. These are sadder if you realise that for these to qualify as last meetings, someone has to leave forever…

You Love Me Really - Peter Parker

Originally posted by spideycentral

Warnings: None

Words: 556

A/N: Just a short one people :)

“You are an absolute IDIOT!” You said storming into Peter’s room.

He was sitting on his bed with ice held up to his face and he looked at you innocently.

“Oh don’t look like that!” You continued. “Do you understand how worried I’ve been!? A week a ago I was told that my best friend was Spiderman! Which naturally increased my concern for them because death is permanent, Peter, do you understand that? People are out to kill you!”

Peter just pursed his lips and continued to stare at you.

“So when I hear, not from him may I add, that he is going to Germany with Tony Stark then I put two and two together and realise that he must have a death wish because he could have got killed! The Avengers are dangerous! That’s their job - to kill things! So when I hear that you are fighting half of them I can’t even believe it! What happened to the clever Peter Parker, huh?”

You waited for Peter to say something, but like before you got nothing. You sighed.

“Who gave you that?” You asked in a more calmer tone pointing to his black eye.

“Captain America.”

“Great.” You said sarcastically, sighing. “I hate you. ”

“You love me really.” Peter said.

You shot him a look.

“Do you know how worried I’ve been? And I haven’t been able to tell your Aunt exactly what you were doing because then I would have to tell her you are fricking Spiderman, Peter! And I can’t do that to you.”

“I’m sorry.” He said sincerely. You could tell by how he was looking at you that he was.

“Okay I’m done and sorry too.” You said closing your rant. You moved to sit on the edge of Peter’s bed.

“I am fine really.” Peter justified. “And they would not have killed me. They weren’t out to kill each other.”

It was your turn not to say anything now.

“Are you hurt anywhere else?”

“Not really.”

“You are an idiot though.” You said laughing lightly.

Peter smirked.

“So what exactly happened?” You asked.

Peter started to relay the events to you: who was there, who was on what team and why, who fought who etc.

“Don’t think I’m not proud of you though.” You said after Peter had finished.

“Proud? Why?”

“Well Tony Stark clearly needed your help and you were able to hold your own, yes?”

“I guess I did.” Peter said sitting up a little straighter.

You laughed softly.

“Of course you did tough guy.” You said and kissed him on the cheek. Instantly you stood up and crossed the room to the door.

You grinned as you opened the door and watched Peter just stare at you in surprise.

You poked your head round the door to say, “You still owe me one though. Don’t forget that.”

You winked and left, leaving Peter Parker speechless behind you.

Masterlist

Lie about love - Dean Winchester x Reader

Title: Lie about love

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader, Castiel x Reader (slight, not really)

Warnings: Possessed Reader

Prompt: Reader gets possessed and tells Dean lies about reader&cas just to hurt him, but then cas comes and exorcises the demon and Dean thinks that what the demon said was true (bc of huggin etc) but then time skip reader tells the truth about her feelings?

“Do you think she’d ever have feelings for you? Dean Winchester?” she scoffed, spite in her voice but Dean couldn’t bring himself entirely to hate it because it was your face, it was your voice, it was your eyes- your everything that he actually loved. He couldn’t bring himself to be strong an face the monster because he was actually facing the woman he loved more than anything. She laughed. But it was not the same laugh that would usually make his heart skip a beat because unfortunately it was no longer you that laughed.

“Like hell” she scoffed “She’d rather kill herself than fall for you, much less get any closer as far as a relationship is concerned.” she said in a hiss “You’re one big damn flaw, Dean. Broken, in every possible way. You are a mess, a man with daddy issues, womanizer and an alcoholic. What would she ever want to do with you?” she scoffed and Dean swallowed down the lump in his throat.

He fought so hard to not let it show how much your words were getting to him.Because he knew it wasn’t yours words exactly it was her words because she was the one speaking. But in the very end she was inside you, she could see all of your thoughts and feelings. How could Dean be sure she was only lying to him?

“Shut up.” Dean growled, his hands not even flexing to throw the holly water at you like he would do with any other demon. He couldn’t bring himself to hurt you not even when it wasn’t actually you.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

Hello! It's my birthday tomorrow. Can I request how the RFA+V+Saeran react to an MC who feels depressed on her birthday because everyone forgot? (My parents forgot my birthday lolololol :') )

oh shit damnn once I forgot my own birthday x’D

anyway, happy early birthday anon! <3 here’s a virtual birthday cake from me to you ~ [ do come off anon so everyone can wish you a proper birthday :) ]

Originally posted by nitratediva


Zen:

Originally posted by yourreactiongifs

“oh man I’m freaking screwed”


Jumin:

Originally posted by viedifsi

“I MUST HAVE THE PARTY IMMEDIATELY”


Jaehee:

Originally posted by emiria

“It’s today?! Oh no I must have been so busy with work.”


Yoosung:

Originally posted by baekon-stripss

“how could I forget omg what should I do?!?!?! MC is so upset with me”


Seven:

Originally posted by crying-in-korean

“I am so dead”


V:

Originally posted by simplybridal

“oh dear. MC must hate me…”


Saeran:

Originally posted by fantasiegryphon

“I’m totally fucked”

A Little in Love || Jack

Jack masterpost found here

Word count - 836

Summary - The one where Jack comes to terms with his feelings.

-

Jack’s POV

I woke up feeling cold. Immediately, I rolled over and cuddled closer to my girlfriend, (Y/N). We had only been officially together for a few months, but she already spent most of her nights with me. She was my favorite person in the whole world. I couldn’t help but lay my face in the crook of her bare neck, pressing my lips to her soft skin. Somehow, even after a night’s rest, I could still smell her perfume. Coconut, my favorite. She let out a quiet giggle, turning to face me. “What do you want?” she asked, her voice quiet having just woken up.

“Morning to you too,” I laughed.

“I was having a perfectly good sleep,” she pouted, “and you woke me up for no reason except to say morning?”

“So I like to wake my girlfriend up with neck kisses,” I shrugged, “sue me.”

“You’re lucky you’re just irresistibly cute,” (Y/N) said, a smile growing on her face. I grinned and closed the small gap between us with a kiss. I rolled a bit on top of her, holding her down against the bed and kissing her a little stronger than before. Her hands immediately went to grip my hair.

When her phone started going off obnoxiously, I reluctantly pulled away from her. She sighed and reached over, shutting off her alarm. “That’s right,” she sighed. “I’ve got work.”

“No,” I whined, pressing my forehead against hers. “Call in sick.”

“I can’t,” she said, pushing me off of her lightly so she could get up. “You know I can’t.”

“You did last week.”

“That’s cuz I was actually sick, Jack,” she laughed.

“Yeah and we got to cuddle all day,” I reminded her, reaching out to pull her back into bed.

“Sorry, not everyone can be stay-at-home YouTube sensations like you,” she teased. I fell back on the bed with a laugh, folding my hands behind my head, watching her put her clothes back on. She truly was the most beautiful girl I had ever seen. “Take a picture,” she smiled, turning to face me again as she pulled her shirt over her head, “it lasts longer.” She walked over to me to place a kiss to my cheeks. “I’ll call you later, yeah?”

“Okay,” I smiled. “Have a good day.”

A few minutes after (Y/N) left, I dragged myself out of bed, throwing on some joggers and a t shirt. When I walked out of my room, Josh and Conor were sitting on the couch playing each other in a game of FIFA. “A shock to see you out of bed before 2:00,” Conor teased.

“I mean, you’re one to talk,” I laughed back. “When was the last time you showered anyway?”

“Alright, piss off,” Conor said, still fighting back a smile. “So why’d (Y/N) run off so early? Finally getting sick of you?”

“Nah she’s got work,” I said, scrolling through my phone. “She should back ‘round later. Told me she’d call me.”

“You’re in so deep,” Josh laughed. “There’s never a day she’s not here.”

“I mean she is my girlfriend,” I laughed. My phone buzzed in my hand with a text from (Y/N). I’ve been here for less than an hour and I already wish I hadn’t gotten out of bed. How much longer til I can come cuddle again?

I smiled and texted her back, I told you you should’ve called in sick. Think about it, we could be cuddling right now if you would’ve just listened to wise old Jack. “Oh my god,” Conor suddenly said. I looked up at him. “You’re in love.

“Shut up,” I scoffed, feeling my cheeks blush. “I am not.”

“You are!” Josh agreed. “You’re in love.”

“Shut up!” I said again.

“Have you told her yet?” Conor continued.

“No I haven’t told her yet,” I said, “because I’m not in love.”

“You’re just scared to admit that you’ve fallen for her,” Josh laughed. “I mean, it’s bloody obvious that you have, but you’re just afraid to say that one little word.”

“Because I’m not in love!” I said sternly.

“Mate,” Conor laughed, “you’re going to have to admit it someday. It’s okay to be a little in love. I mean, I’d think you were a robot if you weren’t.” My phone vibrated again and I immediately read the text from (Y/N). “Wise old Jack,” she wrote. I think you’re forgetting that I’m three months older than you and about a hundred times wiser. A smile spread across my face involuntarily again.

“I’ve never known someone who could make you smile that much,” Conor said. “That’s got to count for something, right?”

I sighed, typing a quick response back to (Y/N) before looking up at the boys again. “Okay, fine, maybe I’m a little in love with her,” I mumbled. The boys let out cheers, Conor tackling me in an unnecessary hug. “Shove off!” I laughed, pushing him off of me. “You two need girlfriends. You’re way too invested in my love life.”