or she knows that both boys like her and she's trying to figure out what she feels for both of them

anonymous asked:

Hey, you're awesome, thanks for existing, basically ^_^ Anyway, I wanted to know if you have any tips on how to write different personalities? My characters (all of them) always end up with the same default personality that I fall back on. Thanks!

Thanks for your question, darling!  I think most of us have struggled with this – after all, we’re conditioned to one way of thinking, feeling, and acting for as long as we live.  That doesn’t necessarily mean we write characters like ourselves, though.  In fact, many of us have a “default character” that’s sassier than we are, sweeter than we are, or in some way different enough from us that we still feel like we’re writing a character.

The problem, then, isn’t that we can’t visualize a different personality than ours.  On the whole, we can.  What we’re missing are the small details that make it feel whole – otherwise, it’s like painting the same room six different colors and trying to pass it off as six different rooms.  Different dominant traits can’t hide the fact that you’re working with one template!

So the question we’re left with: what are the traits we’re missing?  And how can we change them to create a unique and whole personality?


Three Types of Character Traits

There are, as the title suggests, three major categories of personality traits as I see it: fundamental traits, acquired traits, and detrimental traits.  A well-rounded character needs some of each to be three-dimensional and realistic.

Fundamental Traits

The fundamental traits of a person’s character are not as simple as interests and preferences; they are the very base of all decisions and desires.  They are either learned in early life or developed over a long period of time, rooting deeply into the personality.  A few examples of fundamental personality traits include:

  • Upbringing – The word choice here is conscious, as upbringing encompasses many different aspects of a person’s development.  Consider who raised them, and with what morals and practices they were raised to adulthood.  Consider their influences, both familial, social, and in media; consider the relationships that were normalized during their development, as well as the living conditions (financially, emotionally, environmentally, etc.).  The people, places, emotions, and conflicts made common during a person’s developmental period are essential to their personality in adulthood.  This is why psychologists often draw present-day problems back to a person’s childhood memories – because those formative years can subconsciously dictate so much of a person’s future!
  • Values – These may not coincide with the values a person is raised to hold, but upbringing certainly has an influence on this. A person’s values will direct the course of their life through every decision, large and small.  You don’t need to outline everything your character believes is important – every moral and every law they agree/disagree with. But those values which stand above others will give your character purpose.  A few of my favorite examples are: Jane from Jane the Virgin (whose initial storyline is heavily based on her religion and desire for a beautiful love story, as well as her childhood influences who inspired these values) and Han Solo from Star Wars (whose character development rested upon his values shifting from money and gratification to more honorable things).
  • Beliefs – Different from values, beliefs are a more general set of guidelines for how a person believes things are supposed to be.  Beliefs can also be a source of great conflict, as a character tries to stay aligned with their beliefs despite other values or desires.  These beliefs can be established systems, like religion or politics; they can also include more personal belief systems, like nihilism or veganism.  A characters beliefs, like their values, can change over the course of the story – but even if a character is questioning one system of belief, like religion or pacifism, they should have other belief systems in place to govern some of their activity.
  • Reputation – A lot of human activity, whether consciously or not, is dictated by how others perceive them (or how they believe others perceive them).  There are two types of reputation: personal and passing.  For instance, a woman named Sally who gains a personal reputation of sleeping around will behave in reaction to this reputation – either sleeping around because everyone already expects it of her, or specifically not hooking up because she wants to shake this reputation, or developing a thicker skin to deal with the rumors until it passes.  A man named Billy who, because of his tattoos, bears a passing reputation as an intimidating man will either try to soften his demeanor with strangers, own up to the image, or at least learn to expect judgment from strangers as a consequence.
  • Self-Image – Also relevant to a person’s behavior is the way they perceive themselves, which can often have little to do with their reputation.  A lot of self-image is based on definitive moments or phases in the past.  For instance: for several years after I started wearing contacts and cutting my hair, I still saw myself, in dreams at night, with long hair and glasses.  One of my friends, similarly, could not seem to notice when boys would flirt with her during sophomore year – because she still saw herself as an awkward middle schooler with braces, and not as the charming cheerleader with the great smile.
    Inversely, self-image can be inflated, causing character to behave as though they are funnier, smarter, or more prepared than they truly are (see: the rest of my sophomore acquaintances).  This can be an overlooked character flaw opportunity – or flawportunity…

Originally posted by alliefallie


Acquired Traits

Now we move on to the acquired traits of personality, which are the ones you’re more likely to find on a character sheet or a list of “10 Questions for Character Development”, alongside a million other things like their zodiac sign and their spirit animal.  But the traits I’m about to outline are a little more relevant to a character’s behavior, and more importantly, how to make this behavior unique from other characters’ behavior.  The following traits will be learned by your characters throughout their life (and their story), and are more likely to shift and grow with time:

  • Interests – I know, I had to reach deep down into my soul to think of this one.  But it’s true!  Interests, both in childhood/adolescence and in adulthood, are an important part of a character’s personality and lifestyle.  Childhood interests both reveal something about the character (for instance: my nephew loves trains, Legos, and building, suggesting a future interest in construction or engineering) and create values that can last for a lifetime.  Current interests affect career choice, social circles, and daily activity for everyone.  Forgotten or rejected interests can be the source of pet peeves, fears, or bad memories. There’s a reason I’ll never play with Polly Pockets again, and it 100% has to do with bloody fingertips and a purse that wouldn’t open.
  • Sense of Humor – This can be a little hard to define, understandably.  If you were to ask me what my sense of humor is, I’d probably start with a few stupid memes, pass by Drake & Josh on the way, and somehow wind up telling you bad puns or quoting Chelsea Peretti’s standup comedy. A person’s sense of humor can be complex and contradictory!  Sometimes we just laugh at stuff because someone said it in a funny way.  But anyway, to help you boil this down to something useful: take a look at a few kinds of comedy and relate it to your character’s maturity level.  Do they laugh when someone lets out a toot?  Are they the kind of person to mutter, “That’s what she said,” or simply try not to laugh when something sounds dirty?  Can puns make them crack a smile?  Do they like political humor?  Do cat videos kill them?  Is their humor particularly dark?  Can the mere sound of someone else laughing make them laugh?  Figure out where your character’s sense of humor is, and you’ll feel closer to them already.
  • Pet Peeves – For every interest a person may have, and everything that makes them laugh, there’s something else that can piss them off, large- or small-scale.  Are they finnicky about their living space and neatness? Do they require a lot of privacy? Do certain sounds or behaviors drive them crazy?  What qualities are intolerable in a romantic interest for them? What kind of comments or beliefs make them roll their eyes?  If you need help, just try imagining their worst enemy – someone whose every word or action elicits the best eye-rolls and sarcastic remarks and even a middle finger or two – and ask yourself, what about this person makes them that mortal enemy?  What behaviors or standards make them despicable to your character?  That’s all it takes.
  • Skills – Everybody has them, and they’re not just something we’re born with.  Skills can be natural talent, sure, but they’re also cultivated from time, values, and interests.  What is your character okay at?  What are they good at?  What are they fantastic at?  Maybe they can cook.  Maybe they have a beautiful eye for colors.  Maybe they have an inherent sense of right and wrong that others admire. Maybe they’re super-athletic or incredibly patient or sharp as a tack or sweet as a cupcake.  Maybe they know how to juggle, or maybe they’re secretly the most likely of all their friends to survive a zombie apocalypse.  Where do they shine?  What would make someone look at them and think, “Wow, I wish I were them right now”?
  • Desires – A good way to “separate” one character from the next is to define what it is they want, and then use every other detail to dictate how they pursue that goal.  Every real person has a desire, whether they’ve defined it or not – whether it’s something huge, like fame or a family of five with triplet girls and a beach house on an island, or something small, like good grades for the semester.  These desires can cause a person to revise their values or forsake their morals; and these desires can conflict with other people’s desires, influencing how people interact with each other.  Remember that every character is living their own story, even if it’s not the story you’re telling.
  • Communication Style – A majorly overlooked character trait in pop fiction is unique communication styles.  Having every character feel comfortable arguing, or bursting out with the words, “I love you,” is unrealistic.  Having every character feel paralyzed at the idea of confronting a bully or being honest to their spouse is also unrealistic.  There should be a healthy mix of communicators in a group of characters. Some people are too softspoken to mouth off at their racist lab partner.  Some people wouldn’t see their girlfriend kissing another guy and just walk away without saying something.  Some people just don’t react to conflict by raising their voice; some people enjoy sharing their opinions or giving the correct answer in class.  Boldness, social skills, and emotional health all have a part to play in how people communicate their thoughts – so keep this in mind to create a more realistic, consistent character.
  • Emotional Expression – Along the same lines but not the same, emotional expression is more focal on feelings than thoughts.  If you’ve ever heard of the fight-or-flight response, the different types of anger, the stages of grief, or the five love languages, then you’re aware of different “classifications” of emotional expression and management.  Read up on some of those things, and think about how your character handles emotions like happiness, sadness, fear, anger, loneliness, paranoia, and so forth.

Detrimental Traits

While acquired traits are certainly more enjoyable to brainstorm during the creation process, detrimental traits are as important – or even more important – to the character’s wholeness as well as their role in the story.  Not only do these negative or limiting traits make your character realistic, relatable, and conflicted – they create a need for other characters and their strengths to move the plot forward.  A few examples of detrimental traits include:

  • Flaws – Character flaws are probably the first thing that came to your mind while reading this, but they’re the essence of the category.  Flaws in a character’s personality, morality, or behavior can be a source of character development; they set an individual on their own path and provide a unique motivation for them.  Having Character A struggle with sobriety while Character B learns to be a more patient mother can do a lot to separate their stories and personalities from each other.  Even if certain flaws don’t reach a point of growth, they create a third aspect to personality and force us, as writers, to be more creative with how our characters get from Point A to Point B, and what they screw up along the way.
  • Fears – Everyone has fears, whether we’re conscious of them or not – and I’m not talking about phobias or “things that give you shivers”.  Just like everyone has a primary motivation throughout life (romance, family, success, meaning, peace of mind, etc.), everyone has a fear behind that motivation (loneliness, failure, emptiness, anxiety).  We all have something we don’t want to happen places we never want to be and things we never want to do.  We’ve all been in situations that mildly bothered others but wildly affected us at the same time.  For me, it’s a lack of autonomy, or in any way being forced to do something or be somewhere against my will.
    What does this mean for me?  It means that when other people have nightmares about being chased by an axe murderer, I have nightmares about being kidnapped and locked up.  It means that I’m continually aware of my “escape plan” if something goes wrong in my living situation, and I’m hypersensitive to someone telling me, “You have to do this.”  It means I struggle to follow rules and usually don’t get along with authority figures because I have to assert my independence to them.  It’s irrational and continual and doesn’t just affect me in one situation; it subconsciously directs my steps if I let it.  That’s how real, guttural fears work. Phobias are only skin deep, and they don’t make you feel any closer to the character.

Originally posted by giantmonster

  • Secrets – Even goody two-shoes Amber from the swim team, with her blonde blonde hair and her good good grades, has a secret.  Everybody does, even if it’s not a purposeful, “I have a deep, dark secret,” sort of secret. We have things we don’t tell people, just because they’re embarrassing, or painful, or too deep to get into, or they don’t paint us in a good light.  While the secrets themselves tell a lot about a person, so do the reasons a person keeps a secret.  Hiding something out of shame suggests a person is prideful, or critical of themselves, or holds themselves to a higher standard than they hold others.  Hiding something painful suggests that the person struggles to handle sadness or regret, or that they feel uncomfortable showing raw emotion in front of loved ones. And so on and so forth.
  • Conflict – Whether internal, interpersonal, legal, moral, societal, or what have you, conflict will limit your character’s actions at every turn.  A story is nothing without conflict driving the plot in different directions and causing your character to rethink both their plans and their lifestyle.  Without Katniss’s moral conflict over killing other tributes, The Hunger Games would be the story of a girl who entered an arena, killed a lot of people, and lived the rest of her life rich and comfortable.  If Luke Skywalker didn’t have interpersonal conflict with Darth Vader, Star Wars would be the war-story of a guy who joined a rebellion and then… yeah.
  • Health – Physical, mental, and emotional health is a huge limiting factor for characters that often goes untouched, but it’s valuable nonetheless.  Not everyone has a clean bill of health and can jump off trains without pulling a muscle, go through a traumatic life experience without any hint of depression or anxiety, or watch a loved one die in gunfire and shove right on without emotional repercussions. Consider creating a character who’s not perfect – who isn’t perfectly in-shape or abled, or neurotypical or stable day-to-day, or completely clean and clear of residual heartache, unhealthy relationships, or bad emotional habits.  Don’t define them by these traits, of course – but don’t feel that you can’t write a character with health issues without writing a “sick character.”

So this post got ridiculously long, but I hope it works as a reference for you when creating unique characters.  Remember that you don’t need to outline all of this information to create an individual, realistic character.  These are just some relevant ideas to get you started!  It’s up to you, as the writer, to decide what’s necessary and what’s excessive for your creative process.

Still, I hope a majority of this is helpful to you!  If you have any more questions, be sure to send them in and we’ll get back to you :)  Good luck!

- Mod Joanna ♥️


If you need advice on general writing or fanfiction, you should maybe ask us!

our little family pt.1 | park jimin

Pairing: Father! Jimin + Reader 

Genre: Fluff/Angst + parent au 

Word Count: 2.8k

Summary: You were just a pre-school teacher, a simple dream that came true as you always adored children. But what you didn’t know, was how one child and her very special father would change you dream forever. 

Parts: 1 2

“Jieun-ah, please.” Jimin sighed, as he tried putting her arms through the sleeves of her baby pink coat, which she shrugged back off again for the nth time making Jimin let out a soft groan in exasperation.

“Jieun-ah…” Jimin pleaded.

“I don’t want to go to school daddy.” Jieun said softly, pouting as she looked at her dad with round eyes, the corners watering slightly as Jimin felt his resolve weaken at the sight of his little girl before him.

Sighing, he grabbed her hands and put on a large grin, “Jieun-ah, It’ll be fun!” he tried cheering, “Daddy had loved going to school all his life (what a lie) and really wished he could go again.”

“Then why don’t you come with me?” Jieun asked, tugging at the ends of her little pale blue sundress, the color contrasting strongly against her raven blank hair that tumbled around her shoulders in soft curls.

Cradling her face in his hands, her cheeks squishing up together making Jimin chuckle slightly, he said, “Daddy’s too old now, but if anything happens I’ll be there for you, alright? Do you wanna go now? I promise it’ll be great.”

“Pinky promise?” Jieun asked, holding out her pinky to Jimin’s face as he laughed a little, hooking her tiny pinky within his and bringing them together before pressing a small kiss to her hands, “I promise baby.”

“Hi guys!! Welcome! Hello!” you smiled happily as the kids walked one by one into your class, all their faces with expressions that varied, some happy, some mad, some scared and some with tears and snot dripping from their little noses.

Oh children. 

“There you go Jieun-ah, I’ll pick you up in a couple hours okay?”

Keep reading

Taken for Granted (pt 3)

As Namjoon closed the door behind him, he stood by the entrance, snickering to himself. “Her? Liking me? Wahh” he said silently to himself. He wasn’t sure what it was he was feeling now, but he couldn’t stop smiling. “As if I’d like her?” he said again to himself.

“Hyung what are you doing by yourself there?” Jungkook asked curiously.

“Huh? Oh nothing” Namjoon said, flustered.


(One week later)

“Hey guys, Y/N isn’t coming today! Looks like it’s just us tonight” Jin said, filling his voice through the dorm.

“Awh, whyyy” Taehyung asked, coming out of the living room.

“She said she’s sick” Jin said with a frown.

“Let’s go there then! We can bring her food” Taehyung said, excitedly.

“Yah, if she’s sick she should just rest. She can’t be taking care of you guys too” Jin scolded.

Taehyung walked back to the living room with his head held down. He was looking forward to watching the movie you two had discussed a few weeks ago, but it looks like it would have to wait another week. 

Namjoon meanwhile, listened to everything silently from the dining table. “That’s weird, she never falls sick…” he said to himself. 

“What’s that? Couldn’t hear you” Hoseok said, sitting across from him,

“oh, no it’s nothing” Namjoon said.

Keep reading

Bruised (Richie/Eddie) 11/12

Summary: It’s 1993 and the summer from many years ago is dead and gone. Many have drifted apart from the Losers club and its at the point where there is no club at all. The atmosphere is cold just like the winter months and the only blushes to be found are the ones that are caused from the piercing spikes of cold that heat skin up. Being a teenage boy is hard; especially for the two boys that now count each other as strangers. In which both boys make a plan, but both disrupt each others.

Warning(s): Sensitive topics ahead, a few characters are ooc, acts of violence

A/N: 1 part left ! aLSO credit to @nonbinaryreddie aka QUEN for helping me out throughout this series with lil bits im stuck on, i love you! sorry for any mistakes i-

Part 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12(Soon) |

Everything was hazed, Richie felt distant as ever; almost as if his own soul was lingering outside of his skin. His skin was pricked by cold sensations, with his heart beat flickering in his ears.

Where was he?

His eyes almost felt as if someone was holding them shut, everything aching all over his body and he felt his blood strike though his veins icily. Something was terribly wrong, not to mention the sense of dread that pierced his core.

Keep reading

Suga Daddy: Part Five

Suga Daddy: Part Five

Word count: 6.8k

Genre: smut, angst

Alright, I hope you enjoy this. Sorry to all the people whose souls i’ve shattered. (not really) Let me know how you enjoy it if you want :)  

parts: one | twothreefour

“What the hell is going on?”

You and Taehyung pulled apart quickly, both looking at the figure, staring at you with a hard gaze and a clenched jaw. You gasped, “Yoongi.”

Keep reading

Touka and Kaneki a Step in the Right Direction

Touka and Kaneki are two characters in Tokyo Ghoul that in many ways have created a chemical reaction. Sometimes they are able to come together and make something useful but other times they cause an explosion. Touka and Kaneki are two characters who are similar but have reacted to their world differently. 

They are both lonely being raised by a single parent after the sudden death of the other, and the parent who raised them left permanent scars. Touka was raised by a hypocrite who told her that humans were to be cherished as he killed them behind her back. He would later leave home one night and never come home leaving Touka to develop abandonment issues, as she never felt good enough to keep her father around. She also kept her fathers lessons close to her heart and whenever she strayed she thought of herself as a monster.

Kaneki was raised by a mother who treated him kindly with conditions, as long as he was quiet and a good boy she treated him fine. But god forbid he acted like a normal child and didn’t think of his mothers issues he was abused. Then on top of that his mother died so suddenly that he felt abandoned and his foster family in his aunt made him a recluse which made him feel worse. Kaneki also carried around the twisted message of letting himself get hurt for the sake of others.

Touka and Kaneki grew from this so differently, Touka turned bitter towards that life before she was able to examine herself, and find peace with her lifestyle. Kaneki on the other hand internalized his frustrations acting like he was at piece with his life on the outside, but he was tearing himself apart on the inside. They developed opposite of each other, as Touka matured Kaneki fell apart. They worked so well together in the beginning because in the first part of tg they had similar development. Kaneki and Touka were trying to figure out what it meant to be a ghoul. Kaneki was trying to learn what his new life of a ghoul had for him, and Touka was learning that she could live a normal life away from the violent circle of hatred. Their paths meshed together so they grew together until a the same sunlight in a way.

However, as much as they grew together, they also grew closer together, the more their faults started to creep up on them both. Touka wanted to protect Kaneki because he was once human. But as Touka did that Kaneki became more concerned and decided to protect her at the cost of himself.

But in Kaneki’s need to protect her he hit her weakest emotional cord, abandonment. He told her he wasn’t going to go home with her, and told her she couldn’t help him and asked Tsukiyama and Banjou to go with him in front of her. All her childhood insecurities came back in that moment, she wasn’t good enough and it hurt her.

It was at this point that they developed separate from each other, where Touka became a normal high school girl and Kaneki became a serial killer and gang boss. They developed into two completely different paths and they didn’t know how to approach each other. When they met up again it showed through their conversation which inevitably resulted in Kaneki lying about being fine and Touka hitting him and telling him he hates how he changed. This exact moment triggered both of their childhood trauma’s. Touka with her issues of her not being good enough for her father and how he couldn’t confide in her. Causing her to lash out against everything he taught her, and Kaneki with his abuse and him doing exactly what she wanted from him.

However, because of the Anteiku raid they never got to reconcil, so thus three years go by and Kaneki is reborn as Haise. They developed apart and had a fresh start as Touka the waitress and Haise the investigator. This is so important because this is the time that without the burden of a past they fell for each other. This taught Touka a very important lesson, that she cares for Kaneki enough to let him go, but that she still cares for him and that not every change in him is bad. Kaneki learned that he has a permanent home in Touka one that she won’t take away based on conditions because even after she said she hated his change she gave him a place to return.

Then Kaneki changed again to a highly suicidal Kaneki, willing to die to be cool, to protect others. He hit his lowest low of the series and it was in that moment Touka said three words the struck him “See you later.” which he thought was cruel because he wanted to die. Touka knew but wanted him to understand the meaning of that and it caused him to hesitate to doubt, which lead to him making a change of heart during their fight with Arima. 

Kaneki and Touka are two characters that develop off of each other, they bring out the best and worst in each other. They both hit cords in each other, but they also can heal wounds that they never realized they had. This conversation between them in this chapter is an important example of that. Touka admits her man issue with Kaneki, which is the fact that he always leaves her. Something she never understood and something she keeps trying to fix to no avail. Then he tells her that it was to protect her, because he didn’t want to cause her trouble where she would end up dead.

 Then he asked her to come with him, which filled the void that she had for so long. Touka also helped fill one for Kaneki as well, which was his loneliness. I’m not saying that Touka is a cure for his problems but through her confession she showed him that she cared. Which shocked him like he couldn’t even believe, that someone cared for him.

I think that the most amazing thing that even if he doesn’t accept the feelings romantically its important for him to know. Kaneki isn’t in any shape or form mentally to be with someone, he’s someone living for the moment holding onto a fragile string to survive. But for someone who has craved being loved for so long, it’s something he needed to here, that someone accepts him with his faults and respects his decision for death even if they don’t agree and don’t want him to die.

This is so important because Touka and Kaneki have reached the moment where they realized the mistakes that they made that caused the other hurt. They were able to talk about it and reach a positive note for both of them, and I excited with how this will help them develop positively moving forward. 

I Don’t Mean It (pt 10)

The boys eventually went back to the dorm once they realized that Taehyung probably wasn’t coming back. Namjoon filled everyone in on what went down, expecting Taehyung to probably come find you.

What no one was expecting though was the slump they found Taehyung in just an hour after the whole ordeal at your apartment. Initially, when they found the entire apartment dark, they figured that he was back at your place, finally having things figured out and just hanging out. But when Yoongi opened the door to his shared room with Taehyung, he found Taehyung curled up into a ball on his bed, tears flowing down his face void of any expression.

The boys tried to console him, putting the pieces together of what probably went down. It didn’t take a genius to see that things had gone from bad to worse. All Taehyung could say was “She won’t forgive me” over and over again.

Eventually, the boys left the room, deciding to give him some space. Well, most of the boys. Jimin stayed back and closed the door after the other five boys left.

“How could you do that?” he asked after a little bit, sitting down on the bed across from Taehyung’s. “How could you have believed manager hyung?” Jimin asked, his voice getting slightly louder.

Taehyung couldn’t answer. He didn’t know why he believed his manager instead of you. “Is it because you know hyung longer than Y/N?” he asked again, but still no answer.

“Dammit Taehyung answer me. Don’t you know how much pain you’ve put her through? You don’t get to sit here and cry about it now” Jimin said angrily.

“I DID TRY” Taehyung finally said back, startling Jimin a little. “I did try. I went to her apartment. But…But she won’t forgive me. Why should she? Jimin, she’s fucking moving because of this. I…I’ve lost her” Taehyung said, a fresh batch of tears falling from his eyes.

“W-what? She’s moving? But…but she’s friends with all of us. She..she wouldn’t leave all of us” Jimin said as if it was a fact.

“She probably thinks that you all feel the same way I did. That you won’t believe her” Taehyung said,

“But we would believe her. I would believe her..she can’t just leave like that. Tae…listen Taehyung…you have to fix this. Y/N is someone who has become precious to all seven of us and is not someone we should let go so easily. She’s especially special to you. We all know how you feel about her. And god we all know how she feels…well felt…about you. You have got to fix this.” Jimin said, placing a hand on Taehyung’s shoulder.

“You mean, she felt the same way about me?” Taehyung asked slowly.

“God you both are so blind. Yes, of course she felt the same way you idiot” Jimin said while laughing. “Look, she obviously cares a lot about us, you especially. I’m sure she’ll come around eventually, but you can’t just give up already because if you do, you really might lose her forever Tae. For now, we’re going to have to convince her to not move. After that, I’ll help you figure things out with Y/N. We’ll all help. I want you both to be happy.” Jimin said, finally standing up.

“Thanks…Jimin” Taehyung said as he wiped his tears away. Jimin was right, if he was going to get you back, he had to keep trying. Giving up after this one time wasn’t going to do anyone any good.


Jimin and Taehyung had rounded up all the boys to help them. And within a few minutes, the boys had come up with a way to at least stop you from moving…or at least to put it off.

Taehyung remembered that you were expecting someone at the door, and he thought it might have been the rumors. So, he sends out Jungkook waiting outside their door. And as expected, the movers come up pretty soon. Jungkook managed to stop them and send them back, telling the movers that they were no longer needed.

You stood inside your apartment with your eyes still red from crying before. After finally getting back to your feet, you realized that the movers were getting quite late. You call them, only to find out that they thought you canceled. They were quite pissed as they had come all the way, so they refused to schedule you in for another appointment.

“Great, just great,” you thought. It had taken you a while to find a trustworthy company to help you move, but now it seemed like you would have to try harder. As you fumbled browsed on your phone to find a new company, you heard the doorbell ring. You anxiously walk to the door, half expecting Taehyung again. But to your surprise, you find Yoongi.

You open the door, nervous about what he had to say. “Hey Y/N…mind if I come in?” he asks with a small smile.

You let him in and he stands just past the door, taking in the view in front of him. Everything was thrown about or in a cardboard box. 

“Ah, so you’re really leaving us huh?” he asked.

“Yeah…I think it’s…it’s for the best oppa” you say back.

“Y/N, you don’t have to leave. We know what happened” Yoongi says, turning back to look at you. “We know what happened, and I’m sorry that things turned out the way they did. But…but you shouldn’t leave because of that! We’ve all grown fond of you…too fond maybe. And you leaving would really make us all upset….especially Taehyung” he said carefully.

“Look, I’m not here to tell you to forgive him…although that would be nice….” he said, trailing off. “But at least, don’t punish us all by leaving ok? We’d really miss you, squirt” he said, running his hands through his hair. He always did that when he was embarrassed, you noted months ago.

“Oppa…I don’t know if things will ever be the same with Taehyung again. I don’t want to leave you all either, but….I don’t know oppa” you say, crying again.

Yoongi was flustered, not knowing what to do since you were crying. “Y/N…I know that he should have believed you. But think about it from his shoes ok? What if someone told you that the boy that you’ve fallen in love with was just with you because of money?” he said. You never thought of that. Love? You stared at Yoongi in confusion. 

“Y/N he pushed you away and believed our manager because he had so much to lose if he was right. Squirt, that boy is so foolishly in love with you that he pushed you away in pure fear. He hurt you before you had the chance to hurt him. And I’m not saying that what he did was right, but I guess what I’m trying to say is that I don’t know if I would have done anything differently if I was in his position. It’s easy for me and the rest of the guys to believe you because we’re friends. We’d believe you in a heartbeat. But for Taehyung, you’re so much more. He didn’t want to be hurt like that again.” Yoongi finished. 

“A-Again?” you ask slowly.

“We’ve had lots of people approach us for the fame and fortune Y/N. It happens more than we care to admit. I guess that’s why it was so easy for Tae to believe it. But we’ve all been jaded because things like this have actually happened in the past. But I’d like to think that me and the rest of the guys have built our trust with you ever since we moved in. We’re glad we met you Y/N…so don’t move.” Yoongi said.

“Oppa…” you said, not knowing what to say.  

“Look, take your time. I just wanted to say this and give you something to think about. Forgive him, don’t forgive him….it’s all your choice…bu–” he started but you cut him off.

“I…I think I forgive him” you said, quietly. Yoongi’s words really got through to you. He was right, you never stopped to think about it from his position. And it hurt your heart knowing that the boys had been hurt in the past due to people getting close to them with alternative motives.

“Wait…seriously?” Yoongi asked, surprised.

“Yeah…why, were you expecting me to put up more of a fight?” You said, giggling.

“Well…kinda, but like…the guys are all sitting in our room trying to figure out ways for Taehyung to get you back…I guess I should just send Tae over then?” Yoongi said as he walked back to the door.

“Wait! Uh…how about you not tell them that I have forgiven him already. I kinda want to see what he does” you say with a smile on your face.

“uh, that’s kinda cruel don’t you think?” Yoongi said while laughing.

“Hey! I think I deserve that much, don’t you think oppa!” you say frowning.

“Ok ok. Fine, your secret is safe with me I guess” Yoongi said. “I’m glad you’re staying squirt..” he said, opening the door. 

“Me too oppa. Thanks for talking to me oppa, otherwise I don’t know what would have happened. And remember, don’t tell the rest of the guys!” you said as he heads out. 

“Yeah yeah, just don’t give him too hard of a time,” he says as he walks to his own door. 


The following days were spent with Taehyung constantly showing up at your door or at work with your favorite things. “I need you to know that I never been more sorry and that I won’t stop until you take me back as your friend Y/N” he would say frequently. 

It was getting harder and harder to keep a straight face because you wanted nothing more than to just run into his arms and tell him that everything was ok. But you wanted to keep your fun going a bit longer. And it seemed like Yoongi was enjoying it too.


At the end of the week, you walked to your door only to find Taehyung standing outside with a bouquet of your favorite flowers.

“Y/N!” he said excitedly as he saw you. You loved how his eyes lit up when he saw you. And before you could catch yourself, you smiled at him. “YOU SMILED. AT ME!” he jumped.

“Uh..what are you doing here Tae,” you asked.

“AND YOU CALLED ME TAE AGAIN!” he said, jumping even more. Dammit, you were slipping too much. “At this rate, you might just forgive me within the year,” he said, winking at you while giving you his infamous box smile. You felt your heart melt, and if there was even an ounce of hurt and anger left, it was certainly all gone now.

“For you….your favorites,” he said, handing you the bouquet of lilies. You took them in and took the scent of your favorite flowers. And as soon as your eyes went to meet his, you were pulled into a hug. You were stunned by the sudden contact, but you didn’t resist it. You missed his familiar scent and strong hold on you, too much to push him away.

“Please, don’t be so hard no me Y/N. I need you to know how much I care about you. I…I love you so much. And not just as a friend, but something more. And according to someone who’s name rhymes with Vimin, you felt the same way about me.” he said and you could feel yourself blush and heart race. Dang it Jimin.

“So…please take me back. I need you in my life Y/N, ever since I met you. I don’t want to waste any more time without you. I’ll spend the rest of our time together trying to make you forgive me, but please just let me know that there’s a chance for that. That I still have some space in your heart” Tae said, still holding you tightly. You could feel his increased heart race. 

But you couldn’t hold it in anymore and you let yourself giggle into his arms. He pulls away from you, slightly shocked. “What…was that too cheesy?” he asks as a slight blush appears on his cheeks.

“Just…just a little,” you say, still giggling. You take a moment to stop smiling and finally staring into his warm eyes. You walk closer him, missing his warmth that enveloped you just moments before. You hold onto the sleeves of his shirt, something you’ve always done when you wanted to be close to him. “But Tae…there is that chance,” you say as you smile warmly at him. “I actually…I actually forgave you that first day, after Yoongi oppa came and talked to me…” you say, finally revealing your little secret. 

“…what,” Taehyung said, utterly shocked. “You mean to tell me that you forgave me over a week ago, and I’ve been here sulking all week because I thought you would never forgive me! Y/N!” he whined, putting his hands on your waist as if it was the most natural thing. 

“Hey! Yoongi oppa knew too! I’m surprised he didn’t tell you sooner, I was wondering when he was going to break” you said as you began giggling again. 

“Wah, I guess I deserve that,” Taehyung said, smiling again. 

“What else did you have planned out though? I don’t know how much longer I could have pretended to be angry” you ask curiously. 

“I don’t even remember Y/n. Me and the boys planned so many things, I think I could write a book– ‘How to get your girlfriend to forgive you’ by Kim Taehyung” he said, laughing at his own words.

“Girl…girlfriend?” you asked, lifting up an eyebrow.

“Do I even have to tell you how I feel for you? I said earlier, didn’t I? I love you so much, sweet girl. And I’m pretty sure you like me too. So I really want to see where this relationship goes Y/N if you would give me the chance” he said, looking into your eyes lovingly. 

You could only lose yourself in his eyes. You had to give it to yourself though, for holding out the entire week without running back to Taehyung. “Of course,” you said, smiling back.

And within the next second, Tae placed his warm lips on yours. The kiss was everything you always dreamed it would be with him. Warm, sweet, and loving.

“EWW GET A ROOM!” you heard Jungkook call. Surprised, you both turn to see all 6 boys standing by their door, watching you both. 

“Yah Jungkook-ah! You shouldn’t have interrupted them!” Jin scolded.

“Oops,” Jungkook says, laughing. You giggle, still holding onto Taehyung.

You felt Taehyung slowly pull away from you. “Yoongi hyung… I think you and I need to have a talk” Taehyung says with a fake smile on his face.

“Run hyung!” said Hoseok.

“Oh shit,” Yoongi says as he runs back into this apartment with Taehyung chasing him. You couldn’t help but smile at the scene in front of you and your heart swelled with happiness. You were complete again.


A/N: Ok.. so this is the last part!! Thank you all so much for reading this and for all the support for this series. It has been absolutely great to see the response for this. I’ll be writing an epilogue for this sometime soon, so keep an eye out for it. But please let me know what you all thought of this series overall. Would you like to see future projects? 

Previous Parts: Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9

I Don't Wanna Live Forever [Connor Murphy x Reader]

Title: I Don’t Wanna Live Forever
Pairing: Connor Murphy x Reader
Fandom: Dear Evan Hansen
Requested: no
Summary: Your family takes an annual trip to the mountains with the Murphy family every year to unwind over the winter break–that being said, Connor Murphy isn’t the sweet kid he used to be, and you’d rather be anywhere else than sharing a room with him for two weeks. However, between your parents, a line of accidents, and a mapless trip in the woods seem determined to bring you together–if you can make it out alive.
Warnings: Connor’s potty mouth | Mentions of drugs, abuse, alcohol, panic attacks, sex trafficking, sex, blood, hospitals | First person reader | face paced/vignette style | not proof read | tenses may change
A/N: Here’s that long ass thing I’ve been working on for weeks and just finished a few minutes ago, ayy. Based entirely off the “Connor hated skiing” line. This is long af with no read more option, sorry :/ Here we go! (THANKS FOR 500+ FOLLOWERS ♡♡♡)


Connor Murphy was a lot of things.

He was stubborn–I’d never seen him admit he was wrong, but I’d definitely seen him throw scrabble pieces across the wooden floor of the cabin, leaving Zoe to scramble red-faced to collect them as he stomped up the oak steps to his room, echoing around the house.

He was annoying–I’d told him once I wasn’t crazy about Iron Maiden, which resulted in the album being on blast for the entirety of the time he drove Zoe and I around the mall in the family’s silver minivan.

He was stoic. He was impatient. He was angry.

I’d begged my parents not to go cabins for winter break. I’d begged them to pick a different mountain range if we were so dead set on skiing. But Mr. Murphy and my mother were business associates, and the last thing she wanted to do was make them feel like we were no longer on good terms–especially because of Connor.

“Larry’s been having an awfully hard time with Connor, sweetheart, you have to understand,” my mother crooned in our rental car, fixing her lip liner as she drove, my father keeping a white knuckled grip on the Jesus handle above his head. “He’s not doing very well in school and he’s been throwing tantrums at home. Poor Cynthia is at her wits end. They’re lucky to have that sweet Zoe, she’s so talented and smart. Poor Connor is jealous and acting out, just try not to rally him up, alright, dear?”

I didn’t dignify her with a response, mostly because I knew she wouldn’t like what I had to say anyway, but also because I knew she wouldn’t care to listen, either. I sighed loudly, watching the snow flurry softly outside the window. It wasn’t fair–here I was in the middle of something so remarkably beautiful, and I’d be shoved in a minivan with the Murphy kids and stuck in the valley town’s 1970s mall with crappy t-shirts and a vape store that Connor would spend all day in.

The cabin was huge, up with a view of the town below, nearly three stories made of solid, stripped oak, in the middle of a winding road with a four percent grade. Half the cabin was supported on beams which plummeted down the mountain face. I’d be lucky to stand on the deck without vomiting, let alone being able to venture into the hot tub.

The Murphy’s minivan was already in the drive, trunk shut, meaning they’d unpacked and I’d be left with whatever miniscule space they’d left for me in the loft area.

“Remember to be nice, sweetheart,” my mother crooned again, fluffing her hair in the mirror and giving me an enthusiastic smile in the rearview. “It’s important! They’re practically family.”

Geez, I was lucky to not have Connor Murphy for a cousin.

Slinging my backpack over my arm and exiting the rental car, I took the liberty to stretch, despite the cold air that stung my cheeks and the snow that fluttered down into my hair. This may very well be the last moment of solitude I had for the entirety of the week, and I was going to revel in it.

A movement caught my eye, suddenly, and I lowered myself off my tiptoes to glance up at the second story window–a curtain fluttered shut. It was most likely Zoe or Connor checking out the commotion that was my father and mother bickering over who carried what into the house, and shutting it once they’d realized I caught them. Feeling vaguely uneasy, I turned just as Larry Murphy, bundled in a parka, burst out of the house to take two suitcases from my father.

It was going to be a long two weeks.

——

Cynthia Murphy made me stand by the kitchen counter as she was stocking the cabinet with neon colored cardboard boxes containing various sugary, pink cereals with marshmallows and prizes inside. The Murphy kids were both picky eaters, I remembered quickly, Connor more so than Zoe.

Mrs. Murphy kept playing with my hair, crowing about how much longer it looked (despite the fact I’d cut it since the last time I’d seen her) and how pretty and grown up I’d become, asking me the usually annoying adult questions (“Any thoughts on schools yet? Oh, Connor can’t decide either! Do you know what you’re going to major in? That’s alright, you’ll figure it out soon!”) It would’ve been annoying, I decided, if and only if she didn’t look so sad all the time, the purple bruising under her eyes visible still underneath the layers of makeup. My mother could say whatever she liked about Cynthia Murphy where her wifely duties were concerned–Mrs. Murphy tried to be a good mother (re: tried, period), and that was more than enough to pass her in my book.

In the background, my parents were settling into the second master bedroom, Larry Murphy yelling at the bottom of the stairs to announce our arrival. I could do without the annual reunion, awkward questions about school. The Murphy kids were tolerable–Zoe definitely more so–but it didn’t mean they had to force us together so artificially.

Zoe skimpered down the stairs first, her soft moccasin boots barely making any sound on the stairs–I was surprised to find her long legs bare, her thighs peeking out beneath a pretty pink chiffon dress, covered by what I hoped to be a faux fur parka. Her pretty auburn hair was curled, pulled back with a polka dot headband I could recognize from her childhood. She was wearing eyeliner, and cotton candy flavored lip gloss I remembered sharing when we were thirteen.

It was such a stark contrast from how I remembered her before. The last I’d seen her she’d been gawky and fifteen with a mouth full of metal and a bra full of kleenex. She was practically grown now, and beautiful–it made me feel slightly subpar in my own blue jeans and blue sweater. Regardless, she smiled brightly and skipped over to me, opening her arms to wrap them around my neck.

“It’s so good to see you!” She exclaimed, pressing a quick kiss to my cheek that shocked me, as well as some others–Larry Murphy’s horrified expression was priceless, and I was convinced Connor put her up to it–but I just laughed and hugged her tightly before letting her go.

“You look so pretty,” I told her with a wry grin, and she just tossed the expression back, nodding with a, “So do you!”

“It’s so good to see you girls are still so close,” my mother tittered, beginning to uncork a glass of wine–we didn’t drink much at my house, but the Murphy’s, I knew, did, and my mother certainly wasn’t going to let that go to waste. “Where’s that sweet boy of yours?”

Larry Murphy at the bottom of the stairs, banging on the oak walls, yelling out, “Connor!” was enough to make both the Murphy women flinch visibly. Zoe still had her arm around my waist as we stared up at the ceiling above us, waiting for the squeak of sneakers on the polished wood.

“Don’t yell.”

Zoe jumped away from me as if she’d been burned, pressing herself against the countertop as if to make herself invisible. Mrs. Murphy, her hand clutched to her chest after the initial nose, fought hard to smile believably. I, myself, had jumped at the unexpected sound–Connor Murphy’s curt tenor clear across the room, no where near the stairs, instead standing the doorway were we had just come from. I couldn't  quite make out his frame from here–there was a line of bodies blocking my view, my parents, Mrs. Murphy, and Zoe all formed a human barrier that constructed the divide between Connor and I. Fine by me.

“There you are!” Mrs. Murphy chirped, clearly still nervous, visibly by her shaking voice and hands, fluffing her hair to give her something to do. “You didn’t miss much, Connor, they’ve just arrived.”

My mother said something unintelligent in way of greeting, to which Conner didn’t reply, just shut the door carefully behind him to keep out the cold air. I couldn’t see his face from here, but I could make out that he was much too still for a teenage boy, much too quiet.

“–You remember her, don’t you, Connor?”

My throat closed up as the Red Sea parted, everyone’s heads turning to look between the two of us.

He didn’t move from the doormat–boots  caked in snow, as if he’d gone for a walk, and the bottoms of his skinny jeans were muddy and slick looking. Still, he didn’t shiver, which was slightly unnerving. He was skinnier than I remembered, like he hadn’t been eating, and his face was all angles. He slouched, his pink mouth which was mottled red from the cold was set in a heavy frown. His eyes, which were scanning somewhere around my waist and hadn’t come anywhere near making eye contact since he’d seen me, had blown pupils. Drugs. He was doing drugs in the middle of the afternoon.

He hadn’t cut his hair since I’d seen him last, brown curls poking out of the bottom of a black sock toboggan with a soft pompom on top. It could’ve been funny, I supposed, his rough puberty finishing to leave him left over with this, something akin to a drugged out vogue model who listened to way too much 2008 Fall Out Boy, if he didn’t seem so…unnervingly somber for someone who clearly wasn’t sober. Geez, this kid was a school shooter in the making.

I glanced back up to find him finally staring at my face, shooting an uncomfortable alertness down my spine. His eyebrows were crooked in vague amusement that didn’t seem to reach his mouth, and I felt my face heat up under his scrutiny. If he was trying to intimidate me, it wouldn’t work. I wasn’t scared of boys like him.

“Yeah, I remember her,” he grinned mirthlessly, stuffing his hands into the gut pocket of his hoodie, giving me a nod that, while meant to appease our parents, also felt like a vague threat. I didn’t smile back.

“Great! Wanna show her the room?”

Connor grinned crookedly. “Follow me, kid.”

——

The upstairs layout was just like I remembered  it–Two rooms, one main one in the first entrance with a king bed tucked in the corner, a TV and a few gaming systems with some furniture in the front, a bathroom with two doors which lead through to the other room, which held the fold out couch and television I was accustomed to using.

The Murphy kids already had their belongs strewn about the room–Zoe’s stuff animals and princess blankets eclipsing most of the bed and an ancient Nintendo DS on the table with SpongeBob stickers on the cover that I’m sure belonged to Connor–and it left me very little room to maneuver through.

Connor was silent as he lead me up, as if I didn’t know the way, but surprised me by stopping in front of the king bed, holding out his arms to signal me.

“Your room, my lady.”

I cocked an eyebrow. “This–this is your bed.”

“Not this year. Dad’s decided it’s a little too Flowers In the Attic for Zoe and I to share a bed this year–I’m on the pull out and you girls get to have your fun.” He shot me a bitter smile to let me know he wasn’t thrilled about having the pull-out–he shouldn’t be, the thing was total garbage–but surely he’d enjoy the privacy of it?

“I don’t care to take the pull-out,” I told him, keeping my bag on my shoulder despite the fact it was beginning to be painfully heavy. “If you wanna–”

“Don’t have a choice,” he said, already turning toward the bathroom to walk to his half of the loft. “The bed’s yours.”

——

So, Connor Murphy had turned out to be a total dick. It should’ve unsurprising information, I knew, but part of me still remembered him as a charismatic kid I was, at one point, friends with. Back when the three of us all slept in the king bed, before any of us ever had a zit, when we’d fall asleep in the floor watching early 1990s Pokémon episodes, because Larry Murphy didn’t like them watching it.

Even the Connor I remembered at fourteen, gangly and silent and shy with close-cropped hair felt better than this. I was past uncomfortable, sitting stiffly between he and Zoe on one of the couches in the living room. There was a faux fur blanket hanging behind us, shedding hairs onto Connor’s black jacket, which would’ve been funny if he wasn’t picking at his nails with a slightly rusted pocket knife–I notice he’d painted them, which I oddly admired. I’d kissed a boy earlier this year who painted his nails, and his palms were always soft when he’d reach up to cup my cheeks. It softened Connor in my head, just slightly.

He was careful, I saw, to stay on his side of the couch, leaning into the apex of the arm and the back of the couch rather  than flush with me, his thin legs stretched out and crossed at the ankle to avoid me. I appreciated it, but it didn’t stop me from leaning forward, my elbows on my knees, sitting on the edge of the cushion. I could still feel warmth radiating from him–it was late, and I was tired with a full stomach. If I wasn’t careful, I’d fall right into him, and he’d never let me live that down.

Zoe practically was asleep, leaning forward as well with her head on my shoulder. Cynthia had let her have nearly two glasses of wine at dinner–not enough to get her drunk, but it didn’t change the fact Zoe was still lithe and young, and easily tipsy.

We’d all gone into town for a very awkward dinner–I was just thankful to be placed between my father and Zoe, in a position on the opposite end of the table from Connor, who was stuck in between Larry and Cynthia, looking as if he were in a permanent time out.

Now we were gathered around the coffee table in the cabin, the seven of us hunched over a tiny photo album that I couldn’t really make out from here. There were fuzzy polaroids of us as children, looking nothing like we did now. Connor and I at six, soaked from romping in a sprinkler. Zoe and Connor sharing a chocolate icecream cone, their faces covered in the brown spatter.

“You were all so small,” Mrs. Murphy crowed with a choked voice, covering half her face with her hand in a faux attempt to eclipse the emotion. “Oh, I miss it. You kids used to spend so much time together! Now we only get together for break, and Zoe is so busy there’s hardly enough time for her to spend quality time with her sweet brother.”

Zoe snorted loudly, earning a glare from Mr. Murphy I was positive I wasn’t supposed to see. I snuck a glance at Connor, whose face betrayed no emotion, just staring blankly ahead in the direction of the album. From his position, I was positive he couldn’t see more than the chipped leather cover of the book. Even if he leaned forward, he wouldn’t have been able to see much.

My mother and Mrs. Murphy went out in loud voices in a seamless attempt to pretend the seemingly secret interaction had taken place, so, while the focus was shifted, I turned my attention to Connor.

He didn’t cock an eyebrow this time when he caught me staring, instead just furrowed his eyebrows and looked at me, as if he expected me to speak.

“Can you see?” I asked, nodding my head in the direction of the book.

“I’m fine,” he said immediately–vaguely irritating, I’d admit, but nonetheless understandable. I was sure Cynthia Murphy had spent most of her life making sure Connor was comfortable at all times. Still, this was my olive branch, in an attempt to make this trip a little more tolerable, and Zoe seemed less than likely to console her brother at this point.

“We can change seats, I’m not really looking,” I promised, sitting forward more in my seat to show that I was ready to make the change.

“I’m fi–”

Connor was cut off by a squeal from his mother, who had tossed the book into our laps. It had taken a great deal of squinting, letting my heartbeat slow before I realized she’d been showing us something and not trying to kill some giant bug between us.

The polaroid was grainy, an ivory hue that whitewashed the photo and the years of existence made the picture hard to decipher at first, especially when we were so tired. The time stamp was from the late nineties, glowing yellow in the corner of the frame. I recognized the gilded tub from upstairs that dominated half the bathroom, big enough for three adults easily.

Connor threw to book onto my lap first, like it had scalded him. I should’ve done the same, but it took me a moment. To see, to adjust, to read and understand what was so socially condemning about the photo.

It was Connor, I realized first, small and tanned with bony ribs and chunky fingers and the apples of his cheeks straining against his baby skin. His hair was cropped so short, it looked almost silly. Beside him was me, my hair wild and tangled, curled as if my mother had teased it for dinner. My wide eyes were blazing, much too big for my face, and I was grinning with wet lips at the camera.

We were in the tub, surrounded by big pink bubbles.

We were very, very naked.

It shouldn’t have been a big deal–not really, unless you counted the fact that if this had been printed, our parents would be arrested for child porn. I was mostly covered, sitting beside Connor, my shoulders hunched forward. But Connor was standing, meaning the camera got a very decent view of–

“What the fuck, Mom!” He screaming, standing and ripping the book off my lap. Cynthia’s tittering died immediately, the hands covering her laughed instead covered her horrified face.

This was how it started, I realized.

“It’s not fucking funny,” he growled, tossing the book across the room, banging against the wooden wall with a heavy whomp.  

“That’s enough, Connor,” Larry Murphy growled low in his throat. Cynthia’s head was downcast, her eyes wide and wet. I recognized the emotion immediately–she shut down with conflict the same way Connor did.

“You don’t get to laugh at me for shits and giggles this whole trip,” Connor said, already lunging up the stairs, his hands shaking. “If I wanted to feel shitty, I’d have a conversation with you.”

So much for having a quiet trip.
——
Zoe wasn’t quiet in her gossip about Connor–his door was fashioned shut, I saw, and I doubt he’d come out for the rest of the night. I was positive he could hear his sister’s loud comments from our room.

“Sorry, he’s such an ass,” Zoe groaned, stretching on the bed, her little lilac nightgown shifting across her thighs. “I think his high is wearing off or something–don’t let it bug you. You don’t have to be nice to him, by the way. I’m not gonna let him hurt you.”

I shrugged, noncommittal. “We were friends once. I’m not gonna be mean, he’s never done anything to me.”

Zoe snorted. “You didn’t just see that? He’s a monster, and it gets worse.”

“He just has a temper. Everyone gets like that sometimes.”

I wasn’t sure why I was defending Connor–half because I didn’t want Zoe to tell Connor I disliked him, then he’d actively terrorize me–half because I had no idea why Connor Murphy was so pissed off. It was just a picture. Yeah, embarrassing, I’ll admit I wasn’t too thrilled about eighteen year old Connor Murphy seeing my nipples, and I’ll admit he definitely had the worst end of the stick.

“He loses his shit like that all the time,” Zoe said. “It’s not just a temper.”

“He’s your brother, Zoe,” I reminded gently, brushing out my hair in the bathroom mirror. “Can’t you give him the benefit of the doubt?”

“He’s no brother of mine,” she whispered, rolling over on the bed and clicking off the light.

——

The next few days passed as the usually did–the adults going places without us, albeit romantic and boring, and leaving the three of us to wander about the town below the mountain crests. It was Zoe’s turn to pick the day’s activity, and she’d chosen the mall.

The place was all dark oak, and hadn’t been remodeled since the late seventies at the earliest. Zoe was chipper, balancing a bag of organic soap and bath bombs on her lap that she’d bought at a local shop, pouring over the cheese fries between us on a plastic red tray.

Connor had also been well-behaved since his outburst several days ago, albeit quiet. He’d separated from us the second we’d arrived, holed out in some record store. Zoe was thrilled to be rid of him, and very vocal about it. I was bored out of my mind.

“Don’t look now,” Zoe said brightly, despite her face suddenly shifting into a mask of disinterest. She bit down on her lip, covered in a pink glitter lipgloss she’d applied much too liberally, and pulled on her pretty auburn braid. “There’s some boys two tables behind us checking you out.”

I felt my face get hot. “You’re lying.”

“Nuh-uh,” Zoe said, leaning into take a sip of her milkshake, biting down on the straw–the look on her face told me she’d got their attention.

“How old are they?” I hissed. The last thing we needed were some creeps following us around the mall–this was how sex trafficking started. Surely Zoe knew that this was a huge red flag.

It was clear from her overzealous wave she didn’t.

I felt a hand on the back of my chair before I saw them–to Zoe’s credit, they were pretty. Both in thick denim blue jeans, both in letterman jackets over white tee-shirts. One was tall, skinny, with pretty dark skin and hair cropped close to his head. The other was a little thicker, pale and short, in badly need from a shave. They were smiling brightly at the two of us in a way that was less awestruck and more closely resembled a triumphant conquest.

“Hello, ladies,” the shorter man greeted, grinning like a shark between Zoe and I. His hair was dark, curling around his temples–handsome, maybe my age, maybe ten years older. It was impossible to tell. There were lines around his eyes that either indicated he smiled too much or was simply older. “What are two cute girls like you doing inside on a day like this–the ski lift is just a walk down the road.”

“We’re here shopping with our brother,” I said immediately, giving a grin. The taller boy quirked his eyebrows at me–his eyes, I noticed, were dark with tawny flecks hidden in them.

“That’s cool,” he said to me, switching places so that the other boy could be closer to Zoe. They both pulled chairs up to our table, facing us. My stomach pinched uncomfortably. “Where’s he at?”

“Nike,” I lied, seeing the sign from the distance and knowing very well that Hot Topic, while probably true, didn’t exactly invoke fear.

“Ah,” he said with a grin, his eyes glancing down at my bare arm with a grin. With two slim fingers, he reached forward to pluck at my woven bracelet Zoe had made me a few nights ago, my name in block letter strung across the twine. His hands were uncomfortably hot, and I drew my arm back into my lap. “Aren’t you cold?” He nodded to my bare arms. I’d left my flannel with Connor, who was sitting on a bench at the time–I hoped he remembered to grab it. I was just wearing a striped cotton tee right now, and my arm had broken out in a case of goosebumps, though I wasn’t sure it was from the cold.

“I’m fine,” I said, careful not to meet his gaze. He was pretty, and if I wasn’t careful, I might end up going somewhere with this guy.

“You know,” he began, and I could hear his grin turn predatory. “You’re very pretty.”

A jolt shot down my spine–I wasn’t pretty, not really, which terrified me. I could hear what the other boy was whispering to Zoe, but I could tell that all the stars were gone from her eyes. She looked pale, panicked. These weren’t the kind of boys we needed to hanging around with.

“I know,” I said quickly. “We really need to call our brother–”

“I think he can wait long enough for me to get your number, right?”

Across the table Zoe laughed, too loudly, pushing back and standing from her chair. She was grinning at the dark haired boy, beckoning her to follow with a jerk of her chin.

“Zoe–”

“We’re gonna run to get some coffee, okay? Connor should be back soon, don’t wait up.”

She didn’t meet my heavy glare for long, and didn’t turn around when I yelled her name. I watched in silent horror as the boy put his hand flush with her lower back.

I was alone.

The panic crept onto the back of my neck long before his thin fingers did. He smelled like cinnamon, strongly, like he’d done one too many sprays with his cologne that morning. When I turned to face him, his tawny eyes were asking.

“Is this the part where you say you’ve got a boyfriend?” He grinned, his teeth blindingly bright in his tan face. He was so close I could see the threads on the collar of his letterman jacket–it looked soft.

There was a possibility, I realized, that they weren’t dangerous. That I was just being paranoid–Zoe wasn’t stupid, and she wouldn’t go off with a strange boy unless she was sure it was safe. Still, they were definitely in college.

And boy, were they pretty.

“I do have a boyfriend, actually,” I said, lifting my chin to meet his gaze so he wouldn’t think I was lying. There was a small voice in the back of my head, screaming, raised on her tip toes that I should just take this plunge–let him hold my hand or kiss him or whatever he wanted to do, because this was a shitty trip and I deserved to be as reckless as the Murphy kids were allowed. I didn’t see a reason why I shouldn’t.

Besides, you know, the obvious.

He quirked an eyebrow. “You have a boyfriend?” He asked, biting back a smirk. I felt the voice in the back of my head get sucker punched by my ego. So, he didn’t think I was pretty after all. Which meant he was dangerous.

Which meant Zoe was in trouble.

“Yes,” I growled, standing, yelping a bit when his hand snaked up to grab at my wrist, nearly breaking my bracelet and keeping me bent over the table.

“Let go,” I hissed–the food court was nearly deserted, and the family in the corner was carefully avoiding my eyes. I wasn’t sure I had the voice to scream.

“I don’t believe you have a boyfriend.”

“Let go, or I’ll scream,” I warned, yanking on my arm. He let go immediately, holding his hand high above his head, which I knew was meant as a gesture of calm, but instead looked an awful lot like he intended to strike me.

“Where’s your boyfriend, then?” He taunted loudly, thrilled to see no one in the court coming to my aid. I felt sick, the panic rising in my chest. Where was Zoe? She was in trouble. I was in trouble. I was going to have to scream–

“He’s right here.”

My arm flailed, immediately cocking back in an attempt to elbow in the stomach whoever had wrapped their arm around my neck, their other spidery hand snaking just slightly under the hem of my t-shirt to splay across my hip, finger tips barely brushing my skin above my jeans. The arms were strong, vice like, pressing me against a hard body, and suddenly I felt limp, panic leaving me as I realized whose familiar smell I was enveloped in.

Hair grazed across my cheekbone, and I could make out the dark locks if I looked out the corner of my eye, and I nearly yelped when I felt lips press chastely against my temple.

I couldn’t make out much of the boy anymore, my eyes level with Connor’s adams apple from where he was pressing me against him.

“Babe,” Connor said cooly, calmly, making my knees knock against his. “Who’s this?”

“H-he’s leaving,” I managed to stutter out, barely a whisper, my voice hoarse. I sounded terrified. No wonder this ass in the letterman jacket hadn’t be intimated by me, I sounded about as frightening as a kitten. Connor pressed his fingers against the nape of my neck, tilting my head against his jugular so that I couldn’t see anything but the pale column of his throat and his dark hair. It was getting difficult to breathe–I felt sick. He moved his hand to wrap around my waist, yanking me tightly to him.

“You heard her,” Connor said, again stoic–half of me wished I could see his face, but the other half knew it would be terrifying. Connor’s temper was legendary and destructive–to see him so angry wouldn’t make the fist in my gut unclench. “Go. Take your friend with you.”

There was a beat of silence. Then two. I couldn’t hear much but my own shaky breathing, warm and wet against Connor’s neck, his hair making the space much too hot. I wasn’t aware I had knotted my fingers into his shirt until he started walking, dragging my stumbling form forward with him. He was going fast, too fast for me to keep up, and my chest could only rise so far before deflating painfully.

“You gotta breathe,” he grunted, one of his arms still around me. His face felt hot against me.

“Z-zoe!” I choked out, realizing I had no idea where she was. She could still be with that boy, be in danger–

“Oh, Christ,” he exclaimed bitterly, letting go and beginning to trudge forward. I was terrified briefly, suddenly overwhelmed with the fact I didn’t know where I was. There was a Game Stop, and a Victoria’s secret, the neon lighting combined with the screaming toddlers and the kissing teens and Connor was leaving

An arm swept up from behind me, leading me just as quickly, mumbling something I couldn’t make out into my ear.

“Zoe!” I grinned, immediately feeling safer, feeling my fear melt away just smidgen in my gut.

“I’m so so sorry I left,” she sobbed. “I went looking for a cop, but I found Connor first and I told him you were in trouble–”

“It’s fine,” I said immediately, surprised that my voice was no longer wet. “Thanks, Zoe.”

I was calm, or, at least calmer by the time we reached the van. Connor was waiting by the passenger side door, which was opened, leaning against a scratch in the silver paint. He wasn’t looking at us, instead appearing to observe the silver snowflakes as they fell.

My reflection in the side mirror revealed my face was red and blotchy, not just from the cold wind. I felt gross–guilty for the fact I hadn’t been able to defend myself and Zoe, guilty for the fact Connor Murphy was the one who had to come to my rescue, and guilty for the fact I’d cried all over him. His zipped up hoodie seemed to have escaped the mess, but that didn’t mean I didn’t feel awful. 

He stepped out of the way when I made it close, gesturing for me to get in the passenger side door while glaring at the ground. I was only vaguely surprised, and followed along immediately. Zoe and I almost always rode together in the back. I let Connor shut the door, ignoring the disgusted look Zoe gave as she got into the back.

Connor hoisted himself into the driver’s seat, surprising me with a costume change, reappearing in only a forest green tee. He held out his hoodie to me, balled up in one of his fists without looking at me, before just tossing it into my lap.

“I–”

“I left your flannel in the back. Put that on or you’ll freeze.”

He licked his lips, staring coldly out the front window, before starting the car. I swallowed. Yeah, he definitely hated me.

“Okay.”

——

“You’re sure you’re alright, honey?” My mother asked for the third time. Her hair was tied up, her pink bathrobe covering little of her cleavage and bare legs. She was cradling a wine bottle in her hands, looking at me in faux concern.

I gave her a soft smile. “I’m fine,” I lied. I’d calmed considerately. Connor and Zoe had both agreed I needed to shower to wash off the panicked look on my face–I’d asked them to keep the days happenings a secret. They’d reluctantly agreed.

She gave me a clipped smile. “Maybe you should go to bed early, yeah? That’s what I plan to do.”

I nodded, scratching at my bare leg. I’d taken advantage of Zoe’s absense and changed into boxer shorts and an oversized tee with a kitten on the front–she and Cynthia had headed into town for the night, spending the night at a spa and would be gone for a few days, and my father had taken his annual ‘me time’ and booked a hotel downtown to do his own thing. I think Mr. Murphy went with him, but regardless, he was out of the house. It was just me and my mother.

And Connor. I tried not to think about it. I planned on offering him the big bed tonight, in way of thanking him for today, but we hadn’t spoken much since the incident and I felt…odd. Unsure how to thank him. Unsure why he helped.

I supposed the Murphy men were just gentlemen, even under all that teen angst.

“Yeah,” I agreed. “I’m probably gonna sit out on the balcony and then head to bed.”

She grinned. “Don’t stay out too late, it’s almost down to single digits, dear.”

I just nodded, sliding off the countertop, and slinking upstairs. I was surprised to see Connor sitting on the bed. I grinned.

He looked different, to say the least. He was still without his jacket, wearing only his tee and jeans, and little pair of socks with stars on them, which did seem a little out of character, but I assumed Cynthia bought them. His head perked when he saw me, simply craning his neck, keeping his shoulders bowed forward over his body.

He looked small, I realized. He didn’t look like a boy who punched holes in walls or scared off very big very scary men in shopping mall food courts. He looked like a vogue model with a little too much innocence.

He gave me a grin with no teeth, and it didn’t quite meet his eyes, but I gave him a sheepish smile back.

“Hey,” I greeted, tugging on my top to cover my shorts a little better–Connor Murphy didn’t have any interest in seeing my thighs. Despite all the panic, I’d been playing over and over in my head the comment the boy in the mall had made, incredulous that I had a boyfriend. It was silly to let it sting me, considering he probably wanted to stuff me in a van, but it crippled me nonetheless.

“Hey,” he greeted back, not rising from the bed.  I waited for him to speak again, and when he said nothing, I continued.

“I, uh, meant to say, since Zoe’s gone, you can have the big bed like good old times.”

He frowned. “I don’t need the bed.”

“I don’t either,” I promised, leaning against the banister. “Plus,” I sighed, scratching at the back of my head. “I’m not entirely sure how to thank you for today. I’d probably be selling for a low ball price on the dark web right now, if it wasn’t for you. So, thanks.”

Connor was still frowning. “You’ve had a really rough day. You should take the bed.”

“No,” I insisted, beginning to get frustrated. “I’m really okay, I promise. I can’t give you anything else, take the bed.”

His dark eyebrows knit together quickly, licking his lips again nervously. “I don’t–”

“Plus,” I cut him off again with a curt laugh. “I owe you for your Oscar performance. That was crazy, you know. I can’t believe you fooled him into thinking a guy like you would be with a girl like me.”

His head snapped up. “A guy like me?” He reiterated coldly. I felt my face grow hot.

“You know,” I said quietly.

“Know what?”

“That you’re cool,” I muttered. “And nice looking. And I’m not.”

I was thankful for the warm lighting in the room, concealing my red face. It was already dark out, the blinds drawn tightly. Connor’s fists clenched in the white lace comforter on the bed. I didn’t want him to feel bad for me, and I sort of regretted saying it. Connor had already seen me blubbering today and he didn’t need my shitty teen angst to deal with.

He bit down on his lower lip, staring coldly at the ground before murmuring, “I need a shower. Take the bed.”

I shook my head. “I’m gonna go for a walk.”

He just nodded, rising from the bed. “Don’t get too far. It’s cold out.”

Connor shut the bathroom door behind him, and I was left feeling like a total idiot. I could hear the shower running before I left, snagging Connor’s grey jacket from my bed post and sliding it on. I went down the stairs, sliding out the first door to the outside, stepping out onto the first floor balcony. I made a mental note to the shut the blinds later, before walking around to the front of the cabin.

I should’ve been thrilled to be alive, I realized, snorting at how melodramatic that sounded. Still, as I burrowed deeper into Connor’s jacket, watching my thighs turn red from the cold, I realized that I was shrouded in a veil of melancholy I wouldn’t be able to shake off.

I missed Connor. I missed being his friend. I missed him coming over for play dates when we were kids, gauzy fairy wings strapped to our backs, jumping on a trampoline when Zoe was still to young to participate. I missed writing him letters, like a pen pal, despite the fact he only lived on the opposite side of town. Going to different schools hadn’t deterred us, for a while, at least. We had sleepovers every birthday, and Zoe told the best scary stories. I remembered hiding under Connor’s bed with him, a hand clasped over my mouth so Zoe wouldn’t hear our breathing.

I remembered kissing him when we were in kindergarten, ridiculously late at night, a quick smack on the lips during a game of pretend. I’d kissed Zoe, too, when we were probably much too old for it, but thinking of Connor tugged on my chest.

It stopped as we turned twelve, I realized. I never saw him–he was still playing little league, and I stopped coming to his games to pick dandelions with Zoe. He was beginning to get teased. My parents insisted the slumber parties should stop, we were too old. Every time Connor and I were together at birthdays or Christmas parties, adults would joke about when we’d fall in love, how soon would it be before we got married. We avoided each other like the plague, unless we knew we could be alone. And we were never alone.

Connor hid inside himself. Zoe made fun of him at parties, loudly. I kept quiet.

He stopped calling during the summer months. He never rode his bike by my house. The only time I saw Connor Murphy was the annual ski trip.

I missed him. He’d been a childhood friend, and I’d let him go without a second thought to save myself some shred of dignity, like it wouldn’t be ripped away from me regardless.

Connor Murphy was nothing to be ashamed of.

And now it was too late to be his friend.

It had started to snow again, so I wiped my face and rose, walking the opposite way I had come, skirting the stairs–they led to the upstairs, but only to Connor’s room, and I didn’t plan to barge in uninvited, especially if he was still in the shower, two rooms blocked me from getting to the king bed, so I’d have to walk all the way around the house.

The lights were out, I saw, but again no one had bothered to close the blinds. The television might have been on, a dim blue glow resounding onto the leather couch–

I froze.

As it turned out, my mother hadn’t gone to bed. The television was on, showing some late show with some old white man making cracks about some politician I didn’t care for, casting the blue haze onto the coffee table, revealing the wine bottle my mother had been cradling. Two empty glasses sat on the table–my mother’s bathrobe crinkled on the floor.

I was disgusted in a comedic way, just for a moment, to see my mother in her nightgown kissing my father, who my brain had filled in under the assumption he’d arrived back.

I’d begun backing up to the stairs, Connor Murphy’s naked body be damned, when I realized my father’s car had never pulled up, and I’d been on the front porch the whole time.

A better look in the window revealed a man a little older, a little more gray and a little more handsome than my father.

I was sprinting by the time Larry Murphy had begun to peel his shirt off his back.

I didn’t knock by the time I’d made it to Connor’s room, just threw open the door, struggling to get my breathing under control. I stumbled to the pull out couch, dragging the sheets up around my freezing legs. I was in shock, I knew, and I needed to calm down before Connor came in–the bathroom door was shut, but I couldn’t hear the shower anymore, despite the steady trickle of steam coming through the cracks. I was trapped in this room until Connor came out.

My mother was cheating on my father Larry Murphy. Larry Murphy was cheating on his wife with my mother. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t believe it, I had to have made it up, this had to be a dream–

“What are you doing in here?”

It was an exclamation, alarmed, grasping a towel tight with thin white knuckles.

Connor. Connor in a towel. Connor wet with slick hair and chest hair and navel and hip bones. Connor Murphy, son of Larry Murphy, who had his tongue down my mom’s throat–

“Hey, breathe, what’s going on? What’s wrong?”

By the time my eyes snapped back into focus, Connor was struggling to pull on grey basketball shorts without dropping his towel, and I dropped my gaze back to my shaking hands, almost startlingly red from the temperature change and what was most likely shock. I was hyperventilating, struggling to smother the sobs. I knew this deep in the house, they probably wouldn’t hear me–they were most definitely preoccupied anyway. 

The bed dipped, and Connor’s bare side brushed my thigh. I didn’t mean to jerk back, but I did, clinging to the arm of the couch and staring horrified–Connor looked almost hurt, but mostly panicked. I tried to calm down, for his sake.

“S-sorry!” I sobbed. “Sorry! I-I-I didn’t mean–I didn’t mean–I didn’t–I–”

“Hey, stop, breathe. You gotta breathe. Go slow, okay? Stop tryna talk,” he commanded, holding up his hands to show he wasn’t gonna hurt me, readjusting so that he sat up on his knees, leaning  over me to take my hands, rubbing them between his own despite the claminess.

I avoided his eyes, focusing instead on the dip of his collar bone, surprised to see thin lines of chest hair, wet and plastered to his chest. He was skinny, and I could see his ribs despite the tiny stomach roll from where he folded in the middle. His thumbs rubbed soothing circles across the backs of my hands, and for a moment, I didn’t think. I could’ve forgotten everything and fallen asleep right here with him.

He pulled my hands against his chest, cradling mine in his own, pulling me forward, asking with his slate eyes if it was alright.

I pretended we were friends.

“You wanna talk about that?” He asked very softly, looking down at where our hands were clasped against him–he was warm, his skin pink and hot from the shower. He’d combed his hair back out of his face, and it was almost cute like that. “If it’s about today, I promise you’re safe, alright? I wasn’t gonna let that guy hurt you.”

My heart sunk in my chest, nearly restarting my panic attack. I shook my head.

Connor deserved to know.

I was scared, briefly, that it would set him off. He might yell at me, throw things, kick me out of the room. He might hit me.

I didn’t care. He had a right to know.

I swallowed thickly, shaking my head. “N-no.”

“Did something happen on your walk? Are you okay?”

I shook my head.

“What? Trouble back home–your boyfriend break up with you or something?”

“My mom–” I started, voice breaking, feeling fresh tears of shock on my cheeks.

His eyebrows furrowed, tightening his grip on my hands. “Is she okay? She–”

I saw it in slow motion–his jaw unclenched, eyebrows relaxing from their set, pouted mouth turning down. It was calm. It was knowing.

“You saw them,” he said very softly, letting my hands fall back into his lap. I was too shocked to move them away from his thighs.

“You knew,” I spat–an accusation. I hadn’t meant to make it one.

Connor scrubbed at his eyes roughly, flopping onto his back against the bed. Frustrated.

“I was tired of my dad reading my fucking emails, so I hacked into his–I only saw a few. I didn’t want to see anymore.”

I paled, feeling nauseous. “So it’s happened before?” I choked.

He swallowed. “That was two summers ago.”

“Fuck,” I hissed uncharacteristically, surprised to find Connor stretching out an arm to me. I took his hand with a firm grip. “How long before then.”

He shrugged. “Maybe our whole lives. Maybe before. I’m not sure, angel.”

I nodded, secretly pleased that he was so calm. It kept me level, grounded, watching where our hands were linked.

“What do we do?” I choked. “I have to tell my dad. He deserves to know.”

Connor’s eyebrows furrowed. “Everything would change. He’d tell my mom.”

I bit down on my lip, folding down onto my back to lay down beside Connor. “I hadn’t considered that.”

Connor sighed, scratching at my hand tenderly with his black painted nails. “I’m not sure that my mom and Zoe could handle the news–it’s not like they’d turn to me. They’d be alone. Zoe might even take my dad’s side.”

I groaned, stealing my hands to scrub at my eyes. My wet hair was beginning to dry in a tangled mess.

“This is too much,” I mumbled, rolling onto my side to face Connor, staring at his bare, freckled shoulder. “I don’t know what to do. If I can do anything.”

I jumped a foot out of my skin when he placed a hand at the corner of my jaw, brushing the tangled hair back out of my face. “You don’t have to think about it right now. You’ve had a really long fucking day. You should sleep.”

I didn’t want to sleep–I didn’t want Connor to leave. I didn’t know how to say that.

I couldn’t believe that everyone had tried to desperately to convince me Connor Murphy was a bad boy–fuck them, Connor Murphy was good. He was better than everyone in this cabin combined.

He cared about me.

I caught his wrist, which froze in my grasp, but I just took his bony hand and cradled it between my hands the same way he’d done mine, tracing the lines across his palm. He sucked  in a sharp breath.

“Okay,” I said, and he smiled, moving away. I let go of his hand.

“I just have to turn off the light. Get comfy.”

His retreating footsteps filled my stomach with dread, but nevertheless I unzipped his jacket and draped it on top of the blanket so that it would at least keep my feet warm. Pulling the pillow tight behind my head, I was pleased to find it sort of smelled like Connor’s shampoo as the light clicked off. It left me feeling a little more safe. Ironic, I realized. I was in the middle of a wilderness, I’d almost been abducted, my mother was downstairs ruining our family, and all I could find myself to be worried about was if Connor would be okay.

The bed dipped behind me, shocking me into stillness, surprising me even more when someone lifted the sheet and slid in behind me, a bony hand resting on my hip.

“This okay?” He asked, and I dared to open my eyes to meet his. They were unsure, nervous. He was scared I’d reject him. I nodded, scooting closer.

“It really will be okay, you know,” he assured. “Whatever you choose, I’m gonna be with you.”

“You’re amazing,” I said without thinking, but being entirely sincere. Even in the dark, I saw his eyes go wide and his cheeks tinge a deep magenta in his pale face.

“No, I’m not.”

“Yes, you are,” I assured with a laugh, reaching across the divide to poke at his side, slightly surprised to still find him shirtless. He’d withdrawn his hand almost immediately, keeping respectfully to his side of the bed. “I’d be dead without you. And you’ve supported me this whole way.”

His jaw clenched and unclenched, freeing one of his arms to pick at the wrinkled sheets between us. “I just, fuck, I knew you’d hear some shit, but I was hoping you’d be able to come out here and we could start over again, like before? Zoe started her smear campaign almost immediately. I just, fuck, nevermind.”

I watched him withdraw, turning over with his back to me, the pale plains of his back bared to me.

“Con,” I said very softly. “I don’t care what they say–fuck them,” I laughed, watching Connor’s shoulders shake. “I think you’re good, Connor, and I miss being your friend.”

I watched with bated breath as his back rose and fell with his steady breath in the cold room, his skin radiating heat. I shifted closer, crossing the divide between us. He didn’t respond.

I didn’t sleep.

——

I was alerted late in the day by a noise–it was daylight, I noted, the clock on the bedside table reading it was almost noon. I was groggy, still in the state between sleep and consciousness. The room was shrouded in a bright grey hue from the winter wonderland outside–it had snowed a significant amount, apparently, and the white fluff stuck hopelessly to the window.

At the foot of the bed, Connor was on his knees, pulling a navy sweater over his head. It was tight, with a stretched collar and holes at the hem, but he looked good in it. His hair was frizzed at the temples, and his eyes were wide when we saw me.

“You’re awake.”

I just nodded, a little embarrassed. Part of me hoped Connor would just let last night drop, and we could continue our indifference toward each other, but most of me felt as if we had an unfinished conversation to attend to.

“Is anyone back yet?” I asked, surprised as Connor came to sit in front of me, legs crossed kindergarten style. He shook his head.

“No, actually. No one came back from their trip, and the lovebirds have miraculously vanished for a ski day. It’s just me and you.”

“Oh.”

Connor seemed unsure for a moment, brushing his hands off on his pants. “I’m sorry, um, about last night? I should’ve asked first if it was okay to sleep next to you, I just–I know you said you missed being friends, so I thought–”

“It was nice,” I cut him off with a smile that was nearly all false bravado. “Warm. I really do miss hanging out with you.”

He pursed his lips in way of a smile. “Me too. Miss having friends, period, but you’re kinda great, so–I’ll shut up.”

Stretching, I groaned with the sensation and smiled widely at him. “We can be friends again, don’t you think?” I asked, rubbing the sleep from my eyes. When my vision cleared, he was sitting by my feet, eyes downcast.

“It’s kinda lame, isn’t it?” He asked, sending ice down my spine.

“What, I’m not cool enough for you?” I teased half heartedly, despite feeling slightly sick. If Connor left now, I’d be marooned on this island I’d made for myself, and it wasn’t ideal knowing I no longer had any allies.

“No! That’s not what I–no, fuck, I just meant. Don’t you like Zoe better?”

I shook my head. “I like Zoe–but I liked you first.”

“Yeah, I liked the Teletubbies first, doesn’t mean I prefer them to Death Cab for Cutie.”

I snorted. “Okay, I like you best. You’re both really similar, you know, but you’re kinder.”

He shot me a glare, which I supposed I’d earned. “Liar.”

“Can’t lie,” I protested. “And I like you better. Get used to it.”

He swallowed, shifting on the bed and looking at me again as if grappling to say something. His eyebrows were pinched in the middle, making him look slightly worried, small. I watched the way his mouth bowed as he opened and closed it, my eyes tracing over his soft lips.

He was pretty, I realized, in a way I wouldn’t have considered before.

“What about when you leave?” He asked softly, scratching his arm absently.

I frowned. “What about it?”

“We won’t see each other again.”

I smiled. “Connor, you just live on the other side of town. I do own a car.”

He frowned. “You’d come to see me?”

“If you wanted me to,” I answered honestly. “Or we could go do stuff. It doesn’t make me any difference–whatever you want, I’m game for.”

His eyebrows took a sharp hike into his hairline. “Whatever I want, huh?”

My stomach clenched nervously–decidedly a good kind of nervous. I didn’t realize it till he placed his hand on my ankle, grinning up at me with crooked teeth and pretty eyes, that I might’ve begun to develop a small crush on him.

Which wasn’t okay.

——

“This is such bullshit.”

I cackled as Connor continued to strap on his snow boots, repeatedly tripping and losing his balance in the snow.

“C'mon, it’s fun!” I protested, pulling my sock toboggan down tighter over my ears, trudging another few slow steps through the slush. Connor was frustrated, I could tell, seeing his pink nose and ears, his breaths coming out in angry puffs of smoke.

“No,” he grunted, dragging himself up the trail a few more steps. “Video games are fun. Cartoons are fun. Cheap Internet porn is fun. Dragging my frozen ass up a mountain covered in snow for ten miles is not my idea of fun, dude.”

“It’s not ten miles,” I protested, taking a seat on a mostly clean looking rock, patting the seat beside me in condolence to Connor, giving him a much needed break. He’d agreed to go outside with me at least once to take a hike, since the Murphy kids never ever wanted to do anything that didn’t involve fried food or touristy tie dye t-shirts. We’d been going for a few hours now, and the last bench had easily been miles ago. I wanted to see where the trail ended.

Part of me was scared he’d only agreed because he thought I would break. I’d surprised myself with how calm I’d been after, well, what a nightmare this trip had been. I supposed I’d be worse once my dad got back–but he wasn’t yet, so I was content to have my last moments with Connor.

“We’ve been out here for hours, man, don’t you think we should head back before it gets dark?” He whined, leaning forward on his elbows and rubbed his hands together–he had on mittens, which was probably the cutest thing I’d ever seen. Say what you want about Connor Murphy, his aesthetic was absolutely demolished once you put him in a fire engine red puffer coat.

I sighed, glancing wistfully up the trail. I’d like to finish, but Connor was right–it was getting dark, too dangerous out for us to be out here alone. He’d humored me enough for today.

Time to go back and face reality.

I just nodded, stuffing my hands in my pockets and rising from the rock, giving a decent stretch before moving forward back down the path, Connor scurrying along beside me.

“Thanks for coming,” I said again, nudging him with my shoulder. He stumbled gracefully, grinning with a subdued force that warmed me a little, before checking me back with his shoulder.

“Don’t tell anyone,” he warned, stuffing his hands in his pockets. “But it wasn’t totally awful.”

I snorted. “I won’t let anyone know Connor Murphy can feel fun.”

Biting back a smile, he nudged me again. “God, please don’t. Then they might bring me back here and I’ll have to spend another two weeks with you.”

“I’m sure I’m just killing you inside,” I teased. “How dare your parents give you unfiltered access to a teenage girl.”

“Who never wears pants around the house,” he added sagely.

“And sleeps in your bed!” I choked with laughter, the bird walking along the snow path in front of us clearing the way. “God, I can’t believe I did that. I’m sorry, I was probably awful. Did I snore?”

His mouth twisted, as if trying to look indifferent but instead just failed at smothering a smile, both corners of his lips turning in a different direction.

“Not awful,” he offered, earning an embarrassed groan from me. “No! It’s cute, like a kid, I promise. You kicked the shit out of me, though.”

“You’re kidding me,” I groaned. “I’m so so sorry! I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

“Might be some bruises,” he grinned, to my further mortification. “Hey, nah, I’m kidding. Any damage will heal. It’s kinda funny.”

I cocked an eyebrow from where I was hiding my face behind my gloves. “Seriously?”

“Yeah, don’t sweat it,” he said, reaching out to take my wrist, pulling one of my hands away from my face. He didn’t realize it, just held it, swinging stiffly between us as we walked. He held his breath for a moment before continuing, “I would’ve let you know if I didn’t like it.”

“Kinky,” I said upon reflex, earning a lazy kick to my ankle.

“You’re hilarious. I just meant you’re warm, maybe the bruises are worth it.”

I felt my face get hot, words forming in my belly, escaping before I could choke them back. “Yeah? Maybe I’ll kiss them better tonight, if Zoe isn’t back.”

He let go of my wrist like I’d burned him.

“Sor–”

“Don’t,” he said quietly, stuffing his hands in his pockets, beginning to walk quickly ahead of me.

“What?” I screeched, frustrated.

“Don’t fake flirt with me. It’s not funny,” he spat, continuing walking too fast on his ridiculously long legs.

“Who said it was fake?” I grumbled. “I’m not making fun of you, Connor.”

There was a beat of silence, pulling at my heart with sharp claws, the dull ache starting in my chest and spreading. I’d messed up everything.

“It’s getting dark,” he growled. “And we don’t have a flashlight. Try and keep up.”

——

The panic set in at twilight.

We were running.

He was holding my hand again, dragging me roughly down the mountain, hoping desperately to see some kind of light pollution as the sun set, but there was nothing.

“We should see lights by now,” I told him. “We can see the lights from our cabin, we should see the lights now.”

“We went down the wrong side of the mountain,” he gasped, already out of breathe. I knew his lungs weren’t the best, and we’d been running for awhile now.

“There has to be something at the bottom,” I whispered hopelessly.

“There is,” he growled. “It’s called a gorge, then you climb the other mountain, and there’s the next state. Fuck, how did we get so turned around?”

“Doesn’t matter, Con,” I said hopelessly. “It’s gonna be dark soon.”

His dark eyes widened. “You aren’t sincerely suggesting we try to find shelter. In the middle of a national park.”

“I’ve got a flare gun and a flint,” I told him. “But we have to get back up out of the trees.”

“You want us to climb the mountain again?” He hissed, holding both my hands now. “Are you positive you don’t have signal?”

I nodded. “I’m really sorry, Connor.”

“Don’t be sorry. Start walking.”

——

It was an accident.

It was dark.

I had an analog watch, letting me know it was nearly nine pm. We’d found shelter just as it had started to snow–the  ground here was wet, quickly freezing into ice, and we kept slipping up on the trail. I’d set off the flare an hour ago, and, so far, nothing. The snow had begun to pick up, and we’d found a alcove between two adjacent rocks–not big, about the size of a walk in closet, but enough space for us, our bags, and a pile of wood that refused to light. It kept the snow and wind off of us, and the alcove was high enough I felt safe, with a small mouth that made me feel as if at any instant we could be trapped.

It was an accident.

“The fire won’t light,” I said again, hopelessly, watching my now bloody fingers go numb from trying desperately to get the flint to do its job. I couldn’t feel them without my gloves on.

Connor, huddled in a corner, viciously rubbed his arms in an attempt to get warm. I knew the  temperature would only drop from here. If someone hadn’t seen the flare….

“There’s no dry wood. I checked.”

“Nothing?”

“No, okay? Nothing. That’s it.”

I knew he was right–and searching now would only prove to be counter productive and dangerous. I moved our bags and the pile of firewood to the entrance, sealing us in.

“It’s gonna be pitch black soon,” I warned, watching Connor tap angrily at his phone. “You should probably save your battery. I don’t have a flashlight.”

He snorted. “You’ll bring sleeping bags and a flint, but not a flashlight?”

“It’s the emergency bag! I didn’t pack it, Connor. Make fun of it all you want, but it’s keeping us alive!”

There was a beat of silence, before he clicked his phone off, leaving us in darkness. “M sorry.”

I dragged out the single sleeping bag, stretching it out to him. “Don’t be sorry.” I felt guilty–it was my fault we were in this mess to begin with. “Wanna granola bar?”

“Save it,” he said in a clipped tone, unsure what to make of it since we were veiled in darkness. “We might need it later.” Then, softer: “What’s the plan?”

I heard him stand, and walk across the slick ice of the alcove, coming to stand beside me, his hand at my elbow.

“Well,” I said very slowly, feeling my throat get thick. “Survive the night, stay awake, and once dawn hits we head back to the other side of the mountain, if no one comes.”

“If no one comes,” he echoed, voice oddly hollow. I choked.

“It, erm, is very possible they think we just wandered off, you know? We’re teenagers,” I reminded gently. I left out the part the police would be less than willing to look–Connor had a history of running away after a bad binge.

“Fuck,” he growled.

It was an accident. It was quick, in the dark, we couldn’t see.

He reached our for me, his open palm colliding with the back of my head, yanking me tightly again his chest, my nose buried in his nylon puffer coat. I felt his other hand, too forcefully, at the small of my back, and I nearly screamed, terrified this was an episode I couldn’t control–

“We’re gonna make it outta here,” he breathed against my ear, his breath warm and humid against my freezing ears. It set off a light bulb in my brain. “We’re gonna go back home and–fucking shit, I’m gonna be a goddamn good friend to you and we’re gonna–fuck,” he hissed, his clipped voice breaking off. “I’m gonna take care of you, I’m not going anywhere.”

I let myself break open, collapsing against him, openly sobbing with regret. He stiffened, but just tightened his arms around me despite our bulky clothes.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered. “This is all my fault.”

“It is not,” he hissed, shaking me a little. “We had no way of knowing this would happen. The trail looked safe.”

I just nodded, knowing that arguing would tire me out. I felt the lethargy begin to creep in my bones–Connor was warm, and it was late, and we were tired. Falling asleep meant dying.

“Get out the sleeping bag,” he said, extracting himself from me, and I heard his hands scrape along the hard rock looking for the entrance. “And I’ll look for some more blankets in the bag, see if we can’t insulate–fuck!

“What is it?” I screeched, turning, grabbing his hand to only find that my own was suddenly wet, almost sticky, and Connor pulled away with a howl. I smelled the metallic sting before I realized.

“Something cut my hand!”

“Stay away from the wall,” I warned. “Take your undershirt off, I’ll rip it up.” I felt around desperately for Connor’s phone, immediately illuminating our little cave with a blinding blue light.

The amount of blood smeared across the wall was nauseating. There was a sharp spot Connor must’ve grabbed too quickly.

He was crying, trying desperately to unzip his coat with one hand, the other dripping onto the floor.

“Fuck, I hope something doesn’t smell that,” I whispered, laying down the light and running to help him get undressed, careful of the open cut across his palm.

“I knew I was gonna get naked tonight,” he said with an unsure laugh, “I just didn’t realize it would be like this.”

My face flushed. “What, you thought I’d suck you off because we’re about to die?”

He shivered, accentuated by me ripping his white shirt down the front, exposing his blue, goosebumped skin.

“Fuck,” he hissed, and I was unsure if it was from the cold, the pain, or my foul language.

“Hope this is clean,” I muttered, wrapping a strip of his white shirt across his palm in a desperate attempt to stop the bleeding. It was a good way to get an infection, but I wasn’t sure what else to do.

“I didn’t–I wouldn’t ask you to–”

“I’m not sucking you off!”

“Fuck, I just meant–hypothermia, skin to skin, I saw it in a movie–”

The phone light clicked off. I sighed, tying off the cotton bandage.

“You wanna get naked in the sleeping bag,” I finished.

“I don’t want to!” He howled. “And not naked–just, enough to stay alive, shit. It’s gonna be negative ten out here soon, I just wanna stay alive.”

“We should hurry,” I said, surprising myself by reaching out to urge him to rub at his bare chest, earning a gasp from him. “You’re gonna freeze soon. Get your pants off.”

I handed him the sleeping bag, my breath catching as I heard his belt clink to the floor, trying very hard not to think about the implications of this. How far did he expect me to undress? And, if we did get in here, it would be ridiculously tight, we might fall asleep–

“Hurry up, this bag is an icicle with one person.”

Straightening out my bra and panties (even if we were going to die, Connor Murphy did not get to cop a feel) I felt my way to the sleeping bag.

My hand on his chest, he guided my legs one at time–one by his side, one between his knees–and gently folded me down against him, uncomfortably tight as his shaking fingers zipped the sleeping bag up.

He was breathing hard against my temple, and I immediately began to sweat–between the nylon bag and the fact I felt all of Connor Murphy pressed against my chest and stomach–it was nerve wracking.

“Don’t fall asleep,” he reminded in a hoarse voice, shaking a little. I couldn’t quite figure out where his hands were.

“Don’t get a boner,” I begged, earning a beat of silence before:

“I, uh, am–I’m really trying not to,” he groaned, and I could feel how hot his face was against my temple.

“If it helps,” I said, slightly disgusted. “You can imagine our parents kissing. That really kills my fire.”

“Ew,” he said. “Please don’t.”

I grinned. “What? You don’t want me to be your hot step sister?”

Stop it,” he begged, making me laugh, pressing my face against the soft cushion of his hair, nosing at the column of his throat. He groaned a little, and I felt his fingers twitch beside my hips.

“I can’t believe their secret is going to die with us,” I sighed. “No one is ever going to know.”

“I can’t believe you’re lying on top of me in your spiderman panties, but that’s also happening, so you’d better believe it,” he sighed, hands twitching again.

“You can touch me, you know,” I breathed, a little embarrassed against his ear. “We’re gonna die anyway, might as well die comfy.”

“We won’t die,” he promised, his hands clasping over the small of my back regardless.  “Hey,” he crooned, in a soft voice I hadn’t heard before. Encouraging. “Remember sharing a sleeping bag when we were kids?”

I laughed half heartedly, remembering fully. “The thing was always full of pixie stick wrappers.”

“It was an addiction, and I have quit,” he said sagely, earning another laugh from me. I almost joked about the pot, but part of me knew it wasn’t a funny joke. It didn’t have anything to do with him. He sighed, one finger trailing up my spine. “God, I was so in love with you.”

I froze against him, my body a live wire. His hand pulled back.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said tha–”

“Were you really?” I asked. I felt him smile, before leaning in to kiss my cheek, slowly, his dry lips lingering.

“Don’t tell me you didn’t know,” he groaned. “Zoe had me convinced you were just humoring me because you knew I’d do anything for you.”

I pulled up, as far as I could (which wasn’t much) squinting to make out his face in the dark. “That wasn’t true. You were my best friend.”

He nodded. “Yeah, I know. God, that time when you kissed me….I’m so sorry we stopped talking. I don’t think I’m ever gonna forgive myself for that.”

“Connor,” I said very softly, reaching up to tangle my hands lightly in his hair. “If we’re gonna die…can I just….”

He surged up before I could, the nylon around us snapping taunt, squeaking in protest. Up on his elbows, his bony hands found their purchase on my bare hips, and I felt the wetness through one of the bandages–his hand was still bleeding, the idiot.

His lips were dry, and he kissed much too roughly for someone who wasn’t holding my head in place, our teeth clinking together in a way that I knew was an accident, sending my skull ringing. His eyes were squeezed shut in the darkness.

I can’t believe it took us to the brink of death for him to admit this.

God, he’s an idiot.

I reached up, pulling at his hair, holding his head to mine, his tongue licking roughly up into my mouth before breaking away–

“Boner,” he warned in a squeak, earning a loud laugh from me, collapsing against his chest.

“Not even in death, Murphy, am I sucking you off on a first or last date,” I giggled against his neck, giving him a chaste kiss there, listening to him groan. His hips canted a little, scaring me, before taking a deep breath to calm himself.

“First date, huh?” I felt him grin, followed by a yawn.

“Stay awake, Connor,” I urged, smacking him hard. “Or I’m gonna twist your nipple.”

“Kinky,” he sighed lethargically. Shit, he was gonna sleep.

“Connor–”

“Promise me this,” he sighed, nuzzling lightly against the side of my face. “If we survive the night by some miracle, and we don’t freeze to death or get eaten by bears or bleed out–you wanna kiss me again? With more clothes on? As my girlfriend?”

I leaned into his touch, tilting my head up to give him access to suck a hickey into my neck, groaning.

“Murphy, if we live, I will suck you off.”

That was the last thing I remembered.

——-

Three days later, it’s still cold. I’m not wearing much–a blue gown with shitty pink flowers, it’s made of some kind of plasticy cotton material. There’s blood under my fingernails and bruises on my neck that are almost embarrassing when I remembered how I got them. My clothes were gone.

Connor was gone.

My mother and father were leaning over my bed, the Murphy's  (minus Cynthia) are behind them. No Connor.

They explained it slowly, eyes wide. They found Connor and I nearly frozen, unconscious. Connor lost a lot of blood, they said, and he wasn’t do so well but he’d woken up several days before me.

He wouldn’t eat until they let him see me.

I’d nearly ripped out my IV to get to him.

He was wearing the same shitty hospital gown, his hair pulled back. He’s got hickies I don’t remember giving him across his collarbone that are ridiculously visible. There were purple bruises under his eyes, like he hadn’t been sleeping.

“They said you were still too sick to get out of bed,” he grinned, opening his arm, and I immediately stumbled over to the thin mattress, pressing myself tightly against him. His hand is thickly wrapped in cotton, a few tubes full of a yellow brown liquid in them. He was combing my hair–which I’m sure was a rats nest–out with his free hand.

“They said the same about you.”

“We’re really lucky, you know,” I said softly, tapping at his chest. “I almost lost you.”

“Almost lost you,” he choked out, pulling away to scan my face, before grinning. “Which would’ve sucked, because you’re my only friend right now.”

“Friend?” I said, trying hard not to sound disappointed. I supposed I shouldn’t have been–what we’d done in the heat of a moment hadn’t meant anything then. It had been a lie for my humor.

It wasn’t fair.

Connor’s eyebrows furrowed. “You, um–do you wanna be my girlfriend?”

I frowned. “I mean, only if you want me to.”

He grinned, the smile splitting across his face. “It’ll suck–your parents will hate me.”

“Right now, I kind of hate my parents, so.”

“I do a lot of pot.”

“We can do something else instead,” I grinned, nudging him, having the nerve to blush.

He licked his lips, looking down at where he’d intertwined our hands. “You–you can’t fix me, you know? I’m still gonna be, you know.”

I nodded, bring his hand up to kiss across the bloody knuckles of his good hand. “I know. I promised I’d be your girlfriend, though. A promise is a promise.”

He grinned. “I’m glad you say that–because you did promise something else.”

I shook my head, rising from the bed. “The kiss is for when we have clothes on, remember.”

“I wasn’t talking about that kiss.”

Connor Murphy!

Favorite Adam moments

It’s Adam Parrish’s birthday and since he’s a character that has made me bite my fingernails and yell at the page and grin like an idiot and maybe even get a moist eye or two (this despite being spoiled to his ending), here are some of my favorite Adam moments in (I think) chronological order:

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Stress and A Bath - Harry Styles Imagine

Originally posted by ohstylesno


Words: 1,955

Pairing: Harry Styles & (Y/N) (Y/L/N)

Warnings: Some smut at the end, but nothing too extreme.

Requested: Yes

Requests are OPEN


She heard it, before she saw it. She was cooking in the kitchen, Harry coming in through the door. Instead of the typical start of of conversation, about something that happened in the studio, or a quick, ‘hello, darling.’, there was nothing. She heard him drop his things, like usual, but it was not just a steady drop, it was a thump, and a kick adding towards it. She heard it, before she saw it.

Several seconds, she saw his image come in, bags under his eyes, he was constantly brushing his hair back with his fingers, and squinting his eyes. She took note right away, her husband was stressed. (Y/N) turned the gas stove off, putting a lid upon the stew she made for that rainy day, wiping her hands on her pants, and instantly moving towards her husband.

She leaned against the counter next to him, while he placed his hands on it, leaning towards the black counter, just taking a breather. His wife thought of something to say, not to cause anger, or the cold-shoulder.

“What happened?” She instantly said, starting to rub his back, gently, he moved his shoulder, lightly, in order to brush her off, she moved her hand away, then.

“Nothing.” He grumbled towards her, starting to walk to the staircase. She rolled her eyes at his behaviour, taking off her apron, and placing it on that counter, following him.

“Harry, talk to me.” She said, sternly, eyeing his back, while he started to climb the birch stairs.

“I told you it’s nothing, (Y/N)” That came out harsh, she took a breather, and kept following him, faster now. She turned to the left, knowing he was heading to the bedroom.

Only inches away from him, he brushed the door close, on her face. That was it, she was now angry as well. Opening it to him, taking his clothes off, slowly.

“Harry, I don’t know what happened, but please talk to me.” She said, walking up to him, his back facing her.

She gently placed her hands on his shoulders, watching his skin twitch, him releasing a breath that he never knew he held. (Y/N) moved her hands down his bare back, gently rubbing, and massaging it. Placing her thumb into the skin, kneading it. Arms slid across his stomach over time, placing her body against his back, breathing him in.

“Just a bit stressed, love.” He simply said, she kissed his back a few times, he loosened his shoulders that he held tense.

“How about a bath, I run one for you, with some of those candles we got from our wedding, a few months back. I can come in, if you want or, just let you be.” She said, turning him, pushing his long hair back. His frown turned into a smile, not a full one, but a one that it takes awhile to find. It was hidden.

He looked down at his feet, her hands were still around his waist, he took his hands and placed them on her cheek, slightly moving one thumb.

“That’ll be nice.” He said, she smiled, walking past her half naked husband.

The missus leant down by the sink, opening the cabinets of their bathroom, and taking the candles out. The lavender ones were her favourite, taking it and placing it on the windowsill, the bath in front of it. She placed them there, opening the blinds to view the London street, the streetlamps were on, the rain coming down the window, and the night sky was a faded, but humble blue, from their townhouse window.

She lit them with the lighter, she had stored, and turned the bath on, keeping it to a warm level. The water began to come out, she tested it with her finger, and nodded, plugging the bath. She walked back to the room seeing Harry sitting on their bed, only in his boxers, and just stared at the window to his right, watching the water hit the window.

“Come on now, darling.” She said, walking up to him, taking his hand and leading him to the bathroom.

They stood facing each other, she pulled off her top, leaving her in her bra. The noise of the tap behind them as it poured out the water into the white basin. He looked at her, trying his best to keep eye contact with the eyes that he fell in love with. He watched as she pulled her leggings down, leaving both of them in their undergarments. (Y/N) picked up his hands and placed them behind her, letting him unhook her bra, he did it, watching her breasts come out of the cups. He smiled to himself, the stress slowly, but surely, beginning to go. She knew what she did to him. Her fingertips came in contact with his waistband of his boxers, she placed them down, behind them, her wedding ring grazing his soft skin on his hip. Eventually she pulled them down, and she did the same with hers.

She placed her glasses on the counter, taking her hair up into a bun, and getting into the tub, that was now full. Her back came in contact with the tub, as she put her hand up for her husband to grab on, he sat back to her. She placed her husband’s hair into a bun, loving that he grew it out, and gently massaging his back, kissing his shoulder blades. Harry began leaning back, placing his head on her shoulder, the water coming to his midline. He could feel her breasts against his back, the soft tissue, as she moved her hands to his stomach, gently playing with his tattoos, tracing them with her fingertips, letting him just relax.

“Tell me, tell me what happened.” She simply stated, rubbing his stomach lightly, giving him a small tickle.

“Just the boys, you know them. They love to fool around, talk. It just adds up, and I tell them that I have a wife now, that I can’t stay at the studio till the A.M., I’m expected home by six. But, they just ignore me, and talk about girls and all. I just want to get the work done, we are behind for the next album, because we use the studio time to do this.” He said, releasing his thoughts to her, she simply nodded, kissing his forehead, as he closed his eyes, letting her touch him.

“That’s not fair on you, hun.” She said, taking her arms and placing them, draping them, over his shoulders. He nodded, humming.

“I just want to get the album done, so I can spend more time with you. You’re not just my girlfriend anymore, you’re my wife, you expect more, and I want to give you that.” He said, still laying like that. She just nodded, listening to him speak.

They stayed like that for awhile, her listening to him ramble on about whatever was on his mind, she just listened. The silence arose an hour in, she kissed his temple, him slowly getting up, turning his body to face her.

“Hi.” He said, smiling, she could not help but smile, “Hi.” She said back, looking at his eyes.

He came closer towards her, bringing her in for a kiss, letting him move his mouth around hers, feeling the love coming from her, as he did to her. He pulled away, “I’m going to get out, come with me.” He told her, starting to stand up from the bath, helping her out, drying themselves.

He began doing his nightly routine, as well as her, both naked. She went down to the sink, placing back the candles, and took out the oils she had from their honeymoon, standing up. She walked back into the master seeing Harry standing there, looking at the mirror.

“Babe, come here.” She said, beginning to walk to him. He instantly turned around, seeing she had the oils, a smile came upon his features.

“I love those oils, they bring some memories back.” He said, giving her a smirk, as she pointed to the bed. He sat, naked, while her naked figure sat behind them, her back almost hitting the headboard of the bed. She took the jojoba oil and placed it on his back, gently placing her weight on her knees as she leant into him, placing a kiss behind his ear. He groaned a bit. (Y/N) massaged her strength in his back, taking away some of the knots that lied there. Kissing him every so often, it was when she turned to the bedside table to grab the shea butter, where she was pulled away from it, her back hitting the mattress.

He towered over her, kissing her neck gently, at first, and then began sucking her neck, moving to her jawline. She moaned his name, her hands coming behind him, hitting his lower back, as he placed a hand on her breast, and the other went to her hip, balancing himself out. He eventually placed his lips on hers, making himself the dominate one. She allowed, after all, she caused it, and he had a hard day.

He took over her mouth, fighting for dominance when she opened her mouth, but like always he won, exploring her mouth as his erection grew.

“No teasing, I just want love.” She said to him, as he reached over her to his side of the bed, towards his side table to grab a condom from inside the drawer, ripping it with his mouth as he straddle her, she just watched, trying not to stare at his boner. He slid it on, and went back kissing her.

“Ready, love.” He said, taking his lips off of hers once again, looking in her eyes. She nodded, relaxing her body, allowing him to take over. She felt him slid in, after the six years they have been together, and the few months of marriage, she is still not use to him. Taking a breather from his size, and nodding when to go.

They moved in sync, it was not a fuck, this was pure love making, the pace was slow, but fast, trying to feel everything of the other. She placed her hands on his bare butt, squeezing it once in awhile. He placed his hands above her, their eyes were both close, but sometimes open, kisses were shared, but they just felt it all. But of them groaning and moaning, saying each other’s name, every so often.

He picked up the speed, her noticing the same feeling in her stomach, as she tightened her grip.

“I’m about to come, H.” She said, almost whispering, but it was pure of sweetness, he nodded, her picking up upon the sweat on his forehead.

“Me too.” He grunted, putting his hands on her hips, as she placed one on his hip, and they other on his cheek, gently moaning his name.

Both of them came to their highs, him falling on top of her, placing his head on her breasts, as she rubbed the back of his neck, he was still inside her, but she just loved the feeling of him being so close.

“Thank you.” He mumbled, kissing the side of her breast. She nodded, kissing his head multiple times.

He pulled out taking the condom off of his dick, and throwing it in the trashcan next to the bed, pulling himself into her.

“I love you, I love you so fucking much. I hope you know that.” He told her, bringing himself closer to her.

“I love you too, gorgeous.” She simply said, turning the lamp off next to her, and falling asleep, holding Harry.


Thank you for requesting @anonymous!

REQUESTS ARE OPEN

Lots of love,

-Ava. Xx

Tantalizing: 07

Originally posted by jikookfantasy

Tantalizing: 01 02 03 04 05 06 07 08
Ship: Jungkook | Reader
Description: Back in high school, you were nothing more than a nerd Jungkook wanted to deflower, to get a good fuck from. When he sees you at the club, though, things have changed drastically, and his dominance starts to teeter on the edge.
Warning: Dom!Jungkook, Intercourse, Oral, Blowjob, Hair Pulling, Tons of Fucking Angst, Masturbating, Exhibitionism, Overstimulation, Slight Degrading Names?
Word Count: 6,631

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Protégé (M) [Part 7]

Originally posted by jjks

[1] - [2] - [3] - [4] - [5] - [6

Word Count: 17.9k

Warnings: Sexual abuse, violence, degradation, a lot of dark, sad shit.

With each minute that ticked by, displayed by the bright red, digital numbers on the dash, Jungkook began to feel more anxious. They’d been driving for a while now, long past the vibrant lights of the city. They were going far too fast for him to even think of bailing–there was no way he’d live through a tumble from the car, and a part of him worried that that fate might be preferable to the one he was currently headed towards. He moved his eyes to stare at the profile of Mrs. Choi, her eyes focused on the road ahead of her, her lips pressed into a line of painted red more suited to a woman half her age.

It was then that Jungkook realized he very probably hated this woman. It was in the very next moment that he realized he very probably only hated her because he was terrified of her. He’d been seldom afraid of much in his life; his brother getting sick, of course. But as far as people were concerned, Jungkook found comfort in the knowledge that he could hold his own. He needed this woman–or rather, he needed Mrs. Choi’s money, and there was no telling what he’d be put through to get it. A frightening thought occured to Jungkook in the fact that he’d have to take whatever she put him through if he wanted to save his brother’s life.

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Harsh Words

Requested By: Anonymous

hey bae<3 could you write a fic with peter where he’s having such a bad day, he’s super grumpy and the reader tries to help him but he gets super mad and says cruel things? i’m a sucker for drama, sorry!! love your blog btw

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Description: You’d noticed that Peter had been acting down all day, he was your best friend and you were concerned for him. You decided to try and help him, only to get belittled by your so called “best friend.”

Warnings: Swearing, could possibly be triggering to some people, verbally abusive, plot twist ending yeet

Word Count: 3,472

A/N: So this was so much fun to write oh myyyyyy, the ending is my favorite hahha, I am willing to write a part two if people really want it. But yeah, enjoy :)))

Originally posted by tomhollanderr

Lately, you’d noticed your best friend Peter had become a bit distant, you’d see how tired he’d look when he came to school, how on edge he was all the time, even a few marks on his face from time to time.

You were concerned for your friend, but at the same time you were confused as to why he was shutting you out.

You’d noticed Ned had started becoming distant too, becoming closer with Peter and excluding you more.

Michelle had noticed this happening too, she too didn’t understand what was going on, but at the same time she didn’t really care, it didn’t involve her.

You walked over to your table at lunch, carrying the brown bag in your hand, as Michelle sat a few seats away like usual, her face in a book, however, you noticed Peter and Ned having an intense conversation, but the second they saw you, they stopped.

“Hey guys.” You smiled, but they didn’t return the smile, nor the friendly gesture.

You felt your heart break, what had you done that made them suddenly hate you so much?

“Is every thing okay?” You questioned hesitantly, looking between the two of them.

Ned and Peter glanced at you for a split second before looking at each other, letting out a sigh.

“Yeah, every thing is fine Y/N, just a rough day, that’s all.” Ned answered vaguely, as you nodded, clearly not convinced.

You couldn’t help but observe Peter, he looked tired, worn out, overall just miserable.

“Peter are you sure you’re alright?” You asked again, you didn’t believe that they were just fine you knew there was more than what they were letting on.

“Y/N, just let him be.” Ned pressed on, making you roll your eyes, a flash of anger going through them, making Ned shut up quickly.

“I don’t give a damn, I want to know what the hell is going on? Is that so bad?” You spoke angrily, watching as Ned shrunk in his seat as Peter just glared at the table, his anger finally peaking.

“You know what Y/N? You need to mind your own damn business, maybe if you did that more often you’d actually have friends! Maybe then we’d actually like to hangout with you more if you weren’t constantly trying to pry into our lives and figure us out all the time! It’s like you have no consideration for anyone but yourself!” Peter shouted, surprising not only himself, but Ned, Michelle and especially you.

Peter had never yelled at you before, especially not in front of everyone.

You sat there, wide eyed, unable to speak, your heart broken into a million pieces.

He did hate you.

You nodded slowly, tears brimming your eyes as you started packing up your lunch, no longer hungry and definitely no longer wanting to be around him.

“Sorry to have been such a burden to you.” You spat out, tears streaming down your cheeks as you stormed out of the cafeteria, throwing your lunch away as you left.

Peter sat there watching you leave, his heart breaking as you did, he knew he messed up, really bad.

“Dude what the actual hell was that!” Ned shouted, hitting Peter on the arm, making him wince.

“I don’t know! Ugh, I really don’t know.” Peter muttered, frustration clear in his voice.

Michelle on the other hand was watching every thing, although she never interfered with any of her table members, she felt this was a good time to break that.

“What you did was really fucked up Parker, she really cared for you, I hope you remember that.” Michelle commented, before grabbing her book and her apple, and exiting the table, leaving both of them in shock.

“Dude you’re so fucked.” Ned groaned, as Peter hit his head on the table, groaning out in frustration.

“I know, I don’t even know why I said what I did! It just came out without warning.” Peter sighed, rubbing his face with his hands.

“Honestly Peter, I don’t know if you can fix this one, I don’t think Spider-Man himself can fix this.” Ned whispered the last part, making Peter sigh sadly, he knew Ned was right, you were never going to forgive him.

He didn’t know what had gotten into him the past few weeks, his job as Spider-Man had become a bit more stressful, therefore adding extra stress into his regular life, and then on top of that there was school, where he was pressured into doing well all the time, and he just couldn’t balance it out recently.

He’d been loosing hours of sleep fighting off criminals as Spider-Man, therefore making him more tired in class, unable to focus on the lessons.

Sometimes he’d come to school with a new cut or bruise from his mission the previous night, causing Ned to panic when he’d see him at his locker.

And then there was you, the sweetest person he knew, his best friend, the one person who wouldn’t even hurt a fly, the one person who genuinely cared about him, and now he pushed you away by going too far.

He thought pushing you away at first was the best to protect you from what he actually did, but as time went on it just got worse, he knew how bad he was hurting you, and it hurt him too, but he kept telling himself it was for the best.

But then Ned started to avoid you too, which made Peter angry, he wasn’t supposed to ditch you too, but Ned was also his best friend too, which made it even more difficult.

Peter and Ned had avoided you the best they could for two weeks, slowly getting out of your life, to keep you safe of course.

But you, you found it the total opposite.

And now your assumptions were proven correct, and you couldn’t feel any worse than you already did.

This time it was your turn to avoid both Peter and Ned, you did for weeks, refusing to talk to them, look at them, sit with them, basically anything that involved them, you find a way out of it.

If you were such a burden to their lives why be in it at all? Wasn’t that what they wanted anyways?

Peter did say you always tried to pry into their lives and figure everything out, and that you had no consideration for anyone but yourself, so you decided maybe he was right.

That’s why you decided to change, you weren’t going to be that person anymore.

Weeks turned to months, and you were still ignoring them, they did their best to try and talk to you, but it was no use.

You on the other hand became best friends with Michelle and Liz, who also helped give you a complete makeover.

You decided to become a better version of yourself, you dressed nicer, did your hair and even put on makeup, something you never once used to do.

This surprised everyone the day you walked into school with Liz and Michelle, nobody had ever seen you like this before, and you weren’t going to lie, you loved how much attention you were getting.

You noticed Peter and Ned, watching you with wide eyes, which made you smirk slightly, you got what you had wanted.

Peter and Ned on the other hand, got the exact opposite, they changed you, for the worst.

“Dude what the hell!” Ned whisper shouted, looking at his best friend with wide eyes.

“I don’t know Ned, I guess I really hurt her, and now she’s getting us back by becoming something she isn’t.” Peter sighed, leaning his head in his locker, groaning as Ned just stood there still stunned.

“She did look good though, you have to admit that.” Ned nudged Peter who’s head shot up quickly, hitting his head on the locker shelf.

“Ow,” He muttered, rubbing his head before slamming his locker shut, “And alright yeah, she does look good, I hadn’t seen her like that before.” Peter shrugged, adjusting his backpack straps.

The bell rang, and everyone started going to their classes, sadly for you, your first class was with Peter and Ned.

“Alright, good morning everyone!” Your teacher Mr. Scott smiled, as you all gave blank stares.

“I see everyone is tired, but this is chemistry and it’s going to blow your mind and wake you all up! So, to do that, I’m assigning you all in groups to work on a project.” Mr. Scott picked up his paper, scrolling down the list, while reading off names.

“Y/N, Peter, and Ned, you’re all one group.” Mr. Scott announced, making your eyes widen as you glanced over at the two of them, who were equally as stunned.

He then dismissed everyone to get to work, you slowly walked over to their table, throwing your stuff on the desk.

Peter and Ned watched you anxiously, unsure of what to say, or even what to do.

“So, uhm, what do you think we should make?” Ned broke the awkward silence, you gave a shrug in response, not looking at them as Peter kept his stare on you, his heart beating faster.

“Y/N, do you have any ideas?” Peter pressed on, making you roll your eyes before looking up at him, his eyes widening, this was the first time in months you both made eye contact.

“I think you should go to hell.” You smiled, grabbing your pencil before writing down chemical formulas.

Peter’s mouth dropped open, that was the last thing he’d expected to hear you say, he felt his heart break more, but there was also a bit where anger was slipping in.

“You know after months, I thought you would of cooled off already.” Peter muttered, making your head snap up, your eyes narrowing at the brunette boy in front of you.

“I’m sorry, let me see, last I checked my ex best friend was super nice, but then he suddenly abandoned me, and then his other friend, who was also my friend, abandoned me, and then I was told I wasn’t a considerate person, because all I care about is myself, which is ridiculous because I distinctively remember trying to care about you and see what was wrong.” You shook your head, laughing at how in denial he was. “God you’re such an asshole.” You spat, your blood boiling as you grabbed your backpack, storming out of the classroom, despite your teacher yelling at you.

“Dude what is wrong with you? Are you trying to make her hate you even more than she already does?” Ned scolded, shaking his head at his friend as he sat there stunned.

What was wrong with him? Why couldn’t he just apologize for what he had done, now he just made it worse.

But that seemed to be the only thing he was good at doing lately.

Days passed since the incident in the classroom, you had told Liz and Michelle what had happened, they both were surprised Peter had the nerve to say that to you, but they were proud when you finally found the courage to stand up for yourself.

A few more days passed, you were at Liz’s house, having a movie night with her and Michelle, you started doing this so you would get over the other two who shall not be named.

“So Y/N, are you going to homecoming with anyone?” Liz questioned, popping a piece of popcorn in her mouth, Michelle also curious.

“I don’t know, I don’t really know that many people.” You admitted, shrugging your shoulders.

“Oh come on Y/N, basically the entire football team wants to take you!” Liz laughed, throwing popcorn at you as Michelle grinned.

“Oh hush.” You laughed, eating a piece of the popcorn that was thrown at you.

You felt your phone buzz in your pocket, you let out a groan, causing Liz and Michelle to look over at you.

“It’s my mom, I gotta go.” You sighed, giving a sad smile to your friends who begged you to stay, but eventually let you leave.

You started walking home, it was late, the sky was dark, sometimes you were nervous walking alone, but for some reason this time you weren’t.

That is until you felt some sticky substance connect to your shirt, and before you knew it you were flying across Queens.

“What the hell! Put me down!” You screeched, and thankfully the “kidnapper” put you down on a building rooftop.

“Oh great it’s you, Spider dude.” You muttered, trying to remove the web attached to you.

“That’ll dissolve in two hours.” Spider-Man spoke, making you roll your eyes.

“That’s just great!” You sighed, running your fingers through your hair annoyed.

“Any reason you decided to kidnap me?” You looked at the masked hero, who shifted awkwardly.

“Actually yes.” He sighed, slowly pulling the mask off his head, revealing the last person you ever expected.

Peter?” You whispered, your eyes wide as Peter watched you nervously.

“I-I wanted to tell you Y/N, but my job, it’s just so dangerous, and I couldn’t afford to have anything to happen to you.” Peter rushed out, his hands shaking anxiously.

“Y-You lied to me! You made me feel like the shittiest person ever Peter!” You yelled, making him cringe at your words.

“You made me feel like you hated me.” You whispered the last part out, tears sliding down your cheeks.

“I thought that maybe if I made you hate me, it’d keep you safer.” Peter tried to explain, reaching out to you, but you backed away.

“You don’t get to touch me, you lied to me, you broke me.” You choked out, your body visibly shaking.

“I’m so so sorry Y/N.” Peter apologized, but you just laughed, making his blood turn cold.

“Did Ned know?” You questioned, watching him avoid your gaze, you nodded slowly, running your tongue over your lip, “Wow, so you trusted him, but not me.” You sniffed, anger taking over your emotions.

“I didn’t intend to tell him! He found out by accident!” Peter defended, making your shrug.

“Does it matter? He still knew Peter! Makes sense why he decided to leave me too.” You laughed bitterly, shaking your head at all the information you were receiving.

“Please Y/N, I’m sorry, please forgive me.” Peter pleaded, but you just shook your head.

“No Peter, I’m not going to forgive you, you put me through hell for months, and now you think it’s okay to just apologize and assume every thing will be back to normal.” You looked at him, tears stained on your cheeks as Peter looked at you desperately.

“It’s your turn to feel what I felt.” You looked around, noticing there was no way off the building.

“Get me down from here please.” You sighed, as Peter nodded sadly, wrapping his arm around you for what was probably the last time, as he swung you home.

He set you down on your fire escape, but before you could turn and go inside, he pulled you in for a tight hug.

You didn’t want to, but you slowly hugged him back, deep down you missed the brunette nerd, but at the moment you despised him with a burning passion.

“I will win you back.” He mumbled into your hair, pressing a kiss to your forehead, before swinging off.

It had been weeks since you had last seen Peter, or as you should say “Spider-Man” which wasn’t a bad thing.

He was off doing who knows what, fighting whoever, while you were planning on who to go with for homecoming.

“So how’s project Y/N coming along?” Ned asked, spinning around in Peter’s chair.

“It’s not, it’s more how is she making me feel, and I feel like shit. She told me she was going to make me feel how she felt, and well, it’s working.” Peter groaned, tugging on his hair frustrated.

They both were silent for a moment before Peter’s head snapped up, something was wrong, his Spidey senses were tingling.

“I gotta go, be back soon!” Peter shouted, before going out his window to where he was being directed.

When he arrived to the scene, he was shocked, there was a group of people being held hostage by some random person in a costume.

“Hey, sorry to interrupt this,” He motioned to the hostages, “But you have to let them go.” He added, as the villain laughed.

“And why should I do that?” They fired back, the voice making his eyes widen a bit.

“Because, it’s me you want.” He shot back, his heart beating quicker, as the villain nodded slowly, releasing the hostages.

“Alright fine, have it your way.” The villain shrugged, catching Spider-Man off guard as they hit him in the stomach and face.

Spider-Man groaned, before getting back up, he knew that voice, but how did he know it?

“Who are you?” He asked, as the masked villain laughed, grinning through the mask.

“Your worst nightmare.” They responded, before hitting him again, making him groan in pain.

Then it all clicked, it was you, you were the new villain he had been fighting for the past few weeks, and he just now realized it.

“Karma is a bitch Peter.” You laughed, before disappearing into the darkness, Peter standing there stunned.

He quickly swung home, scaring Ned as Peter flung his mask off, pacing around the room.

“Dude calm down, what happened?” Ned questioned, watching his best friend pace back and forth.

“You know the new villain I was telling you about?” Peter rushed out quickly as Ned nodded in response.

“I just found out who it is.” Peter breathed out, his face flushed as Ned waited anxiously.

“It’s Y/N.”

You Understand, Right? (Part 6): In My Time of Dying

Characters: Dean Winchester x Sister!Reader / Friend!Reader, Sam Winchester x Sister!Reader / Friend!Reader

Length: 1336+ words

TW: Nothing in this chapter!

A/N: I think this was one of the first chapter I wrote after people asked for a sequel. It has a special place in my heart. 

Feedback is appreciated (AND SO ARE YOU)!

SERIES MASTERLIST


It was a couple of days later when Dean had just gotten ready for bed, his eyes closed in hopes for a couple of hours of sleep when Y/N knocked on his door softly, opening the frame, and calling his name at the same time.

At the sound of her voice, Dean all but leaped into alertness. “Y/N? What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

She didn’t say anything as she made her way to his bed, sitting on the space he left with her legs crossed. She ignored his watchful gaze as she chewed on her lips. No words could describe her time in hell, but she knew she needed to accept the memory. Without realizing it her breathing became shallower, and just as Dean opened his mouth, she burst into tears.

“Oh, sweetheart.” Dean’s heart ached at the sound of her cries. He circled his arms around her, and pulled her against his chest, his legs resting around her figure. “It’s okay. I’m here. Nothing’s gonna hurt you anymore, you hear?” Tears were stinging his eyes as she cried even louder, despair and grief in every teardrop. He had to physically bite his bottom lip to stop himself from crying as well. “Let it all out, sweetheart. I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.” Dean drew small circles on her bottom hip, his other hand stroking the back of her hair.

It felt like hours later, and it probably was when Y/N had finally stopped completely crying. She sniffled continuously, using the collar of her shirt to clean up the mess on her face.

“I’m gonna get you a glass of water,” Dean said, seeing her finally calming down.

Y/N scrambled to grab his arm, shaking her head, pleading for him not to leave her.

“I won’t be long,” he promised.

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What Went Wrong?

I had an immense amount of hope for season 4 of Skam. And even though from the beginning, I didn’t like some stuff or was suspicious of some plotlines, I decided to trust the people who had previously made three amazing seasons of Skam to make sense of everything and to give us a beautiful and meaningful season for Sana as well.

Now that Sana’s season is basically over, however, I am more resigned to bitterness and accepting the fact that they simply couldn’t deliver. I don’t blame Julie. Not really. I did for a while, but now I just…feel nothing. The rage has worn off and what’s left is this deep sadness that comes from knowing something good has gone bad.

I’m being dramatic though! At the end of the day, it’s just a show and it doesn’t really matter. But for a second there, I thought I was watching something monumental occur; like when I watched season 3. To get a show from the perspective of a poc muslim girl in a European country seemed both risqué and innovative. But the problem with such a never-seen-before/never-explored-before concept is that, you won’t know just how wrong it can go.

For example, they could easily figure out what not to do in season three, by simply watching all the wrong moves other shows had made through the years. While Sana’s season needed delicate and thorough research to first: capture the essence of the culture and background she came from and then secondly: to use it in the fabric of the show in a natural and organic way. They also needed to have space to deal with the daily problems of muslim girls in modern Norway’s society and on top of that all, they had to make no mistakes and create interesting drama through it all.

Looking at it like that, I feel bad for Julie and the pressure she must have been under. I think considering how bad things could have gone…. they went moderately bad. And yet, ironically we can claim it’s the best of its kind because no one else has done anything remotely close to it before, either.

However, I’m not resigned to just accept this as an excuse and forget just how badly things went. Because this looks like a terrible accident to me, and no matter what I do, I find myself thinking things like “if only this part had been different”, “if only they hadn’t done that.”, if, if, if. So I’m gonna rewatch all nine episodes of Sana’s season and attempt to write a piece explaining just what I thought went wrong.

1.The pacing: Perhaps one of the most obvious things that went wrong with this season and that everyone noticed, was the pacing. This piece will be full of bitter nostalgia so let the first one be a callback to the amazing trailer. I will never forget the day we got season four’s trailer after four months of waiting. Everything about it seemed just perfect. Every detail seemed like a symbol, a throwback, a small wink to the viewer: “look! We put that there for you to find!”. And the ultimate message seemed to be that “it’s about to go down” and it will go down in a very complex way, too! A chain reaction! Millions of meta pieces were written. A thousand different takes on the chain of reaction and what each dilemma could be was written. So when the season started, we were all waiting for something to happen. We waited….and waited… and waited… and waited…. We waited for weeks! But what happened was that a tension, thick as butter, just kept on building for five weeks. And then BOOM! All hell broke loose! And yet…and yet nothing had happened yet. We actually had to wait two more weeks for something to really happen and suddenly by the eighth week, everything was resolved again! In short, the plot was one giant anticlimax! The conflict that kept on building to seem like an unavoidable fall out, a tsunami of dramatic interactions, ended up being resolved off screen. The real problem seemed to be the pacing. If the show had built the conflict in three episodes, presented us with the supposed dilemma in episode 3, tried to fix that in episode 4 and had the deeper, real conflict happen in episode 5, then had the after math in episode 6, and started to fix it in episode 7, have the characters figure it out in episode 8 and the resolve it in episode nine, then it would have made sense! Writing it down like that, it almost feels like that’s what happened! But clearly something prevented the cycle from feeling like a natural arc. Which brings us to the second problem:

2.Crowded narrative: So what was Sana’s season about? The imbalance of her Muslim/Norwegian identity? Being a muslim in an atheist country? Falling for a non-muslim boy? Falling out of touch with friends? Jealousy? Anger issues? Making up with family? Getting a Russ buss? What was this season about?

Ignoring the subplots (because there was so many of those I shiver just thinking about them!), there was three main plots for Sana in this season:

1.Finding a balance between her Norwegian identity and the people in that part of her life with the muslim/Moroccan side of her identity and the people in that part of her life.

2.the problem of being a muslim girl falling for a non-muslim boy and trying to keep true to her faith while still trying to not the love go to waste.

3.Finally making the last move in her friendship with girl squad and really being honest with them about her feelings and problems.  

However soon these problems morphed into different things entirely:

1.Getting a bus and proving to everyone that she can be a part of this Norwegian tradition like any other Norwegian girl.

2. Trying to let go of the boy who was both unsuitable for her and who her best friend had feelings for.

3.Dealing with the collision of her Moroccan and Norwegian on terms that were not her own.

Each of these plots kept on getting more complicated and more tangled to a point that they were not exactly resolvable. They were instead just forced into a state of equilibrium. Which was anti climactic to say the least!

*sigh* now let’s face the subplots! There were so many subplots! And at one point, it felt like these plots will wrap up in that infamous trailer “chain reaction”. But with the season already over, it’s become abundantly clear that that was never the case!

The subplots as seen from the very first clip on are:

1. Vilde and Magnus’s relationship (initially taken as a way to introduce lesbian Vilde but ending up being about trust and cheating. Resolved in episode eight’s sixth clip)

2.Noorhelm (the most unnecessary unearthing of a clearly failed relationship that somehow got revived again…*whispers*why?! Resolved in Episode nine’s third clip)

3.Balloon squad (Sana’s brother’s group of friends and the most adorable addition to Skam this season. I’m not sure what their conflict was supposed to be but last time we saw them they were pretty happy and content so I guess resolved in the last hei briskeby video) (actually they were there to destroy stigma surrounding poc/muslim boys and trying to create empathy towards them)

4.Getting a bus (resolved in the fifth clip of episode 8)

5.Hvem er Mikael?!(Still a mystery tbh but generally accepted to be the last guy Even tried to kiss…unsuccessfully I might add. Resolved in the last clip of episode 4?!then again in last clip of episode 5 and again in the last clip of episode 7…)

6.Sana and her mother (not really a conflict point but still she started from hiding things from her to telling her stuff. Resolved in the fourth clip of episode 9)

7.Even’s past (I honestly don’t know why this had to be mentioned but whatever. Resolved in the sixth clip of episode 8)

8.Yousana (resolved with an open ending in the fifth clip of episode nine aka Sana’s last clip)

9.Elias (Sana’s brother has issues! He’s drinking, he’s fighting with his mom, he’s rebelling and maybe even questioning his faith. This wasn’t resolved! This was just mentioned and to this day I’m haunted. What is happening with Elias?)

10.PM girls (The true let down of this season. There was no need to make 50% of the 99 girls evil, but nothing we can do about that. Resolved in the fifth clip of episode 8)

11.Vilde (Vilde was acting super weird all season long! From Islamophobic behavior to spreading stuff about Sana behind her back and such. Vilde deserved better because we never saw her acknowledge her wrong behavior but somehow this was already resolved by the end of the fifth clip of episode 8)

12.The syng fight (supposedly a climax for the other plots and subplots but it’s an even bigger mystery than all the plots combined. I don’t know anything about it! Nothing made sense but apparently already resolved by the sixth clip of episode 8)

13.Jamilla and Sana’s friendship (resolved in the fifth clip of episode 7)

14.Hacking and cyber-bulling (resolved by the fifth clip of episode 8)

15.Sana finishing her prayer (resolved in the last clip of episode 9)

I…I just think there was too much happening! 

All this aside, this season had one giant problem. Like a zit on the nose. Big, red, angry and full of gross pus. And that is the third problem…

3.Noora: To think I started watching the show for Noora! Oh Noora, Noora, Noora! I am so sick of Noora! The woman, the mirror, the foil, the ever-present heroin of Skam! It was so easy for Eva and Isak to fade into the backgrounds of the seasons that were not theirs but for some unfathomable reason, this is just not going to work out for Noora!

While Noora’s mirror presence in season 3 was dignified and reasonable, the ever-changing mirror/foil/symbol/metaphor/object of hate or jealousy-take your pick-  presence that she had this season was stifling! Present in almost all clips or at least the long clips, with a very tangible presence and a very lingering subplot, Noora mirror-foilingly(!) stole the show from Sana. Here’s how she did that.

In the very first clip of season 4, it’s mentioned that Noora is still not over William while he has apparently moved on to dating a new person. This sets the main plot into action, by girl squad trying to find someone for her to move on with. Which leads to a cute tête-à-tête between her and Yousef. But this is quickly side-tracked by Sana wittingly telling Noora to avoid muslim boys.

So basically, Noora and her boy trouble were the spark that started the season. This later affected other plots such as the Vilde+Magnus one, the Even backstory, Yousana and balloon squad.

Soon after this, we get a long clip in which Noora explained-with a painstakingly slow pace- why she really left William in London. An explanation that nobody needed and that just created the opportunity to restart an old storyline despite it being over for months. Long story short, from trying to help Noora move on to Noora kissing Yousef, from Sana being jealous of Noora to hacking and a lot of tears, basically this whole season was a chain of Sana’s reactions to Noora’s actions. The only plot that was there from the very first clip to the second to last one. The only story that evolved and developed, right beneath our noses while we were busy wondering about more important things like: “whether Sana will ever talk to her friends or not?” (she won’t) or “what the syng fight was about?” (nothing important!) or “what really happened in Bakka?” (What’s Bakka?!) or “Is Vilde lesbian?” (no!) or “will Yousana make it?” (eh…). And while we were busying ourselves with these silly small plots around the season, Noora and her epic romantic adventures were developing steadfastly towards a big climax that was delivered in the last clip of episode 8. A clip that was formerly reserved for a very important and dramatic plot twist in the main’s life.

So while all those never-explored-before plots were all just dismissed, the same old story of Noora got to be the main plot of the season. And that’s fine! But when they said we were getting a Sana season, it just led us to believe Sana would be a bigger part of her own main plotline.

I always thought Sana was the ultimate main for Skam, because in the past three seasons, she was the single character that held a real sway over the plot. She delivered important speeches and pushed the plot in a whole new direction with each of these talks. I thought she was ultimately the character we were meant to get to know. But I was wrong. Because Skam was always about Noora.

4.Bad research: While we all know that the authenticity and uniqueness that is provided in Skam’s plots is curtsey of the interviews they did with actual teenagers and the inspirations they took from their real life experiences; it is undeniable that the main reason season three became such a success was because they sought out the counsel of a professional. While we don’t know if they didn’t really do this for this season, it at least feels like they went in blind to write it. We know they spoke with muslim teenagers, but perhaps it would have been better to try to familiarize themselves with Sana’s situation on a sociological and psychological level as well. Maybe have a religion expert on the show? Or a sociologist who had studied the social disorders that second generation immigrants have to deal with? Someone who could guide them into writing a story that was perhaps a bit more respectful to these children’s experiences rather than a dramatic roller coaster of unexplainable events that led to nothing but drama.

5.Scattered storytelling: The most respectful way to put this is to say that (as mentioned before) since there were too many subplots happening in the season, none of these stories got to be told in a linear way. The stories got told in snippets, set too far apart that plots got lost or complicated simply because they had to wait in line for weeks, to take up where they left off last time we heard about them!

Take Yousana for instance, one week we see them talk, then for a whole week we hear nothing then we see Yousef kiss Noora. Then again we get a clip about Sana moving on but two weeks later, she talks about him again and decides to give it a chance.

For another, Sana’s faith. While initially it seemed as though we might see her practice her faith in some way, to actually normalize Islam, that plot was forgotten half way through the season and only got mentioned again in the very last clip.

Consistency was not the strong suit of this season for sure. Perhaps because this was the last season. Maybe they just ran out of a good way to see things through or to connect the things they wanted to connect.

But no matter how you will try to tell yourself that there was a good reason for the things that happened this season, you can’t deny how unfair this season was to Sana.

Before the season started, there were so many people talking about how a Sana-centered season was “needed” at times like these. But political climate and social anomalies aside, this season not only didn’t help any of those noble causes it was supposed to serve, but also pushed its narrator aside in favor of a more sought after story that only had dramatic value.

for you final [m]

Pairing: Jin x reader x Taehyung

Genre: badboy!Taehyung

Word Count: 5,723

Warnings: mentions of alcohol and drinking

A/N: I have been really sentimental today and have also been lying through my teeth about when I would upload this. Thank you all for being on this journey with me. I may or may not have sobbed while writing this. And I may or may not be willing to write an epilogue. Thank you for the past 7 months of support you’ve shown this series. I hope the ending doesn’t disappoint.

originally posted by vminv

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Final

“I can’t believe you’re actually here!” Momo almost screeches as you step out of the front seat of Mina’s car.

“Thank god,” you retort as you smooth your hands over your irritated stomach, “I don’t think anyone’s driving has ever made that car sick before.”

“Hey!” Mina protests as she pulls your bags out of the backseat, “I got us here over an hour earlier than the GPS predicted.”

Momo snorts as you shoot a glance at your speed demon best friend, “I think I have some ginger tea somewhere in my apartment. We can make you some to settle your stomach.”

“You don’t. The only thing you have in this apartment is potato chips and pig’s feet,” Sana teases as she joins all of you on the driveway of Momo’s complex.

“I’ve missed you,” you admit as you wrap your arms around your two best friends, “Please don’t leave me alone with her for that long.”

“I heard that,” Mina hisses as the car door beeps as it locks.

Sana doesn’t let go of your shoulders as all four of you proceed into Momo’s apartment, “It seems like we have a lot to catch up, but do you want to shower first? You smell.”

You sniff you armpits, “I do not!”

“That’s because you can’t smell yourself,” she gently pats your back as she barely shows your around the apartment before she is shoving you into the bathroom and turning on the shower, “We can go to dinner once you’re ready.”

Keep reading

Lily

Lily is 11 and she doesn’t like boys. She loves Sev but that’s different. She loves him the way she loves Petunia, the way Petunia doesn’t love her back. She likes the way the the concrete feels in the summer, it burns her feet but she dances on it anyway. She likes pressing her fingers to her veins and trying to feel the magic. She likes the dark blue curtains in her living room that her mum constantly complains about. She likes the funny chocolates they have at school and the way they jump around. She likes running late to classes with Marlene and laughing at Mary’s attempt to cover for why they were not on time. She likes Alice’s soft voice that reminds the rest of them that they have plenty of homework as they lounge in the common room. She doesn’t like James Potter and the way he struts about thinking he’s so grand and funny, she knows grand and funny it’s her and her friends and most definitely not him.

Lily is 12 and she doesn’t like boys. She still loves Sev the same way as she always has but no longer the way she loves Petunia. Petunia makes her heart hurt as she spits out the word freak and makes witch sound like its poison in her mouth. Lily loves Petunia sadly and Sev happily and she thinks she’s okay with that. She likes baking with her mum and licking the spoon and fighting her dad for the bowl. She likes hiding behind the blue curtains after sneaking a frog in Tuney’s shoe. She likes the way her dad can’t stop laughing as he tries to scold her for it. She likes drawing pictures on the window of the train. She likes that her friends all try to guess what it is before she’s done, Alice always gets it right but that isn’t hard when Marlene and Mary are fighting to figure out who can come up with a ruder version of what it is. She likes eating in the great hall and feeling so apart and at home in something. She likes mimicking Marlenes snores with Mary at all times of the day especially in class. She likes quidditch and watching the games but severely less so when Potter is playing. She doesn’t like Potter no matter how good he is at the damn sport.

Lily is 13 and she’s starting to like boys. She likes them differently than Sev. Sev doesn’t make her palms sweat or her stomach do tumbles, he steadies her and lays with her and he loves her- more than Petunia ever has. He’s her real sibling, well the only one that really loves her and Lily thinks she’s okay with that, its better than having no one after all. Lily likes the breeze on her thighs when she wears her skirts. She likes the way the grass feels against her legs as she lays with Marlene in the courtyard skipping yet another divination lesson. She likes making up wild stories of what their futures probably hold including but not limited to, Marlene marrying a giant and becoming a giant queen, Lily sprouting wings and becoming accepted amongst the dragons, Alice turning out to be a unicorn in disguise, which they both agreed would be too plausible for it to be considered actual divination, and Mary one day waking up with a third leg to kick them both with. She likes telling these theories to try and get a laugh out of a begrudging Mary who actually DID go to class and was left by herself. She likes the way Alice dances with Marlene to make Mary smile which eventually leads to the four of them dancing and laughing all night in the common room. She likes the way Potter and his friends are totally bewildered by it asking loudly what the hell had gotten into them, she knows he could never understand the pure joy of dancing with your friends. She likes the way Marlene tells Sirius she’d rather dance with a pig’s privates when he asks if she has any moves left for him. She likes painting Alice’s nails and listening her talk all about how much she loves her little brother and wondering what it must feel like to have an older sibling that not only tolerates you but actually loves you back. She likes chasing Mary’s cat, Sniffers, and complaining loudly when he won’t let her hold him. She thinks she may like Remus Lupin a little more than she previously thought. She’s always liked how kind and smart and quietly hilarious he is but she’s only just realized how cute his nose is and how she thinks she may want to hold his hand. She likes that he’s different from his total gits of friends but remains loyal to them. Loyalty Lily knows is one of the most important things in a friendship, which is why she doesn’t let her friends judge Severus. She likes that she can tell Alice about her crush on Remus without her making fun of her or suggesting that she do something crazy like fling her bra at him to make him love her (something Marlene and Mary promised would do the trick). She likes transfiguration because Remus sits next to her and tells the funniest jokes quietly so only she can hear. She likes that she spends most of the class laughing at him which may be why she isn’t doing her best, Potter on the other hand excels in transfiguration which is something that really grinds her gears, probably because it’s the one class he doesn’t laugh much in, for some reason he spends most of it quiet giving her and Remus rather annoyed looks.

Lily is 14 and she likes boys. Not the way she likes Severus, whom she still loves… despite everything. They’ve been fighting quite a bit lately mostly because he’s been hanging around with scum and Lily can’t understand why he can’t see that they’re scum. They tell him she’s dirty and disgusting and not a real witch and he hangs around with them anyway it infuriates her and he hangs around with them anyway. But even though he has his flaws and can’t see how disgusting his new “friends” are, Lily loves him anyway. She loves him because he brings her her favorite sweets and let’s her hold his hand and listens when she cries about Petunia, even though she’s found she never likes what he ends up saying about Tuney. She loves him because they’re siblings in every sense of the word so she guesses that it’s ok that they argue, after all they don’t argue nearly as much as her and Tuney do. Or did rather, after all petunia hasn’t answered a single letter Lily has sent her this year and she stayed at a friends house during Christmas holiday to avoid her. Lily thinks she’d rather Petunia call her a freak everyday and spit in her tea twice every hour than have her deny her existence, it would hurt way less. Lily likes dancing. She likes stepping on her dads feet as he twirls her around the kitchen. She likes potions. No lily loves potions. She likes to see the magic actually being created right in front of her she likes that she can hold it and see it and it’ll never stop amazing her. She likes Benjy Fenwick and his bright blonde hair. She likes his small smile and big blue eyes. She likes the way her stomach flips when he’s around. She likes the way her friends act more excited than she does when he finally asks her to Hogsmeade. And she pretends not to like the choruses of “Lily and Benjy sittin in a tree”. She still likes Remus Lupin even though she’s over her crush. She likes studying with him in the library and debating and debating about all the injustices going on in their world. Injustices that were really starting to scare her. Against her better judgment she’s found that she also likes Sirius Black and Petter Pettigrew. For completely different and all around confusing reasons. She never really thought much of Peter, he was just one of potters friends. She assumed him to be an intolerable arrogant git and she found herself to be so wrong. It was when she was assigned to sit next to him in charms after causing too much of a ruckus near Marlene. The first day he nearly made her pee from laughing so hard. She liked that he always brought an extra quill because he knew Mary would forget one. She liked how he copied an extra set of notes for Marlene the day she was sick, something Lily herself hadn’t thought to do. She liked how pretty soon he was joining in on hers and Lupins study sessions which would leave them all doubled over laughing. She found that she liked Sirius and that he really wasn’t as much of a prick as she assumed. She liked the way he over dramatized everything and she was actually growing to find him funny. Of course not nearly as funny as he thought he was but funny all the same. She liked that he spent more time in detention than her, (which she’ll admit she was in quite a bit) him James and the rest of their lot always got in trouble for their pranks. But it was their fault they had to boast and let everyone know it was them. Her Mary Marlene and Alice on the other hand pulled off far better pranks with far less the track record, a feat she liked a great deal. She doesn’t like James Potter and the way he arrogantly asked her on a date while she was holding hands with Benjy. (She did however like her response to the question which included several curse words and threats to his well being).

Lily is 15 and she hates boys. She’s rocking back and forth and tearing at her hair and sobbing so hard she can’t catch her breath. Because he said it, he really said it. She couldn’t believe he actually said it. Her throat is raw from her screaming into her hands.He became the thing he promised he never would and he said the word. No matter how hard she shut her eyes she couldn’t get the image of his face out of her head. The word was stuck in her ears repeating itself over and over again. Mudblood. She felt like her stomach was in the floor as she laid her head in her knees and sobbed. Petunia still looks through her instead of at her. She had lost both of her siblings. Lily laughed out of the sheer irony of it all, because Severus and Petunia did have something in common after all, they both hated her. She disgusted the both of them and if it wasn’t for her friends she might have began to disgust herself too. Lily likes Alice. Soft and timid Alice who could never hurt a fly, was lying in the hospital wing getting her bloody knuckles bandaged. She was a different kind of calm than Lily was used to, no perky smile or scrunched nose sat on her face. Instead her eyes had this fierce fury, she sat perfectly still and the combination made her look deadly. “He’ll never say that word again Lily” she whispered. Reaching up to wipe her face with the back of her hand she only managed to smear it with blood. Lily likes Mary, who always butters her toast for her because “honestly Lily watching you do it is so slow and painful and look!! You’ve got chunks that won’t taste right just let me do it Merlin”. Lily likes Marlene especially when she’s yelling and fighting with all the professors, “I certainly do not think my skirt length has any effect on my ability to do magic. And if you don’t stop looking at my skirt I’ll show you just how capable I am at charms and charm your foot up your arse!!!” Lily was forced to charm Potters head to his desk in order to get the same two weeks detention that Marlene had gotten for that rant. Something Marlene was quietly greatful for, the two never spent a detention without the other. Lily likes rock n roll. She likes blasting it from her room and complaining to her mum that that’s the way it needs to be heard when she’s chided to lower it. She likes painting her nails black so they look especially badass when she flips Potter off. She likes going for car rides with her parents. And it’s ok that Petunia never comes because she gets to lay down in the back seat and dangle her feet out the window. She likes sneaking out at night with all her friends just to lay on the grass and look at the stars. She likes daring Alice to skinny dip in the lake and loves when she actually does. She likes that it took only seconds until the rest of the jumped in after her. She likes that Sniffers finally lets her hold him. She likes that Alice held her when Benjy cheated on her, she didn’t even like him that much but it hurt all the same. Mary and Marlene had left the common room quietly together and when she asked where they were going they both only shrugged. She liked that after only an hour later they returned with all of Benjys clothes, “we left his stuff from second year for him to wear tomorrow” Marlene said proudly as they all died in laughter. She liked Mary’s loud comments at breakfast the next morning, “Oi! Cut back on the breakfast Benjy looks like you’ve put on a few pounds. Your jumper buttons are ready to burst!” She yelled it while she buttered Lily’s toast with a smile. Lily secretly liked the way Potter threw death glares in Benjys direction mumbling about how he was an absolute fucking idiot, not that she’d ever admit that to anyone. She still didn’t like Potter not one bit, not even now that he’s grown to be so tall.

Lily is 16 and she can’t help liking boys. Not Severus though who she refuses to so much as glance at. Sure he tried apologizing several times but it was just too little too late. Petunia’s actually been civil lately, she made Lily a cup of tea without being asked. It might not be love but lily was sure it was something. Lily likes tea and pouring as much sugar in it as possible. She likes when her mom tells her that she might as well drink the sugar packets instead. She likes when her dad comments on the situation by doing just that and drinking the sugar. She likes the Beatles and the Rolling Stones and loves playing all the music for her dad to hear. She likes that he’ll sit with her for hours and just listen to the songs and talk about them. She loves when he surprises her with band tshirts that she wears until they’re ripped and faded. She likes chocolate and competing with Marlene to see who can stuff more of it in their mouths. She likes Marlene’s signature victory dance she does every time she wins. She likes Alice’s yells that they’ll both get stomach aches and ruin their appetites. She likes sitting up late at night in bed and talking to the rest of them. They can talk about anything and everything and they do. She likes the way Alice bashfully told them that Frank Longbottom had asked her out. But what she liked even better was helping her get ready to go. She liked the way Mary did Alice’s hair as Lily did her nails. Marlene watched them work and told Alice detailed stories about all the sex her and Frank would soon be having and not to worry cus she’d gladly tell her what goes where and how to do what and what boys like. She only stopped because Alice was blushing so hard Lily couldn’t do her makeup. Lily likes Sirius, loves him actually. They’d become very close over the year. She likes the way he gives her piggy back rides to class and his sharp wit. She likes that they can insult each other all day and know the others joking. She likes the way he’ll dramatically fall into a chair in the common room and claim he’s died of boredom. She likes that he understands. When she talked to him about Petunia and about how much it hurt to have a family member not love you back he actually understood. She nearly cried when he told her about his family but she was guiltily grateful to finally have someone who could relate. She likes James Potter now. They’ve decided to become friends. Just friends. That’s it. She doesn’t like him anymore than that. And if she has to say it again to Marlene or Mary or Alice or Remus or Sirius or Peter or any one else in this goddamn school she’s going to completely lose it. She likes that they’re friends he’s actually a very good friend. She likes the way he laughs. He does it with his whole body so his long legs kick up and his glasses nearly slide down his nose. She likes when he makes her laugh which is almost every minute of every day. He’s constantly whispering something in her ear or yelling across the dining hall or sneaking her notes in class. She likes the way he defends his friends so fiercely and loudly. When Alex Benditen made a nasty comment about Peter’s weight James made his stomach grow three times the size. She likes the way he runs his hand through his hair just to mess it up. She likes the way he’s constantly tapping his foot or his pen. It’s as if he just has so much energy it’s ready to explode right out of him. She likes his eyes and the way he looks at her like no one else does. She likes Potter, likes him a lot actually. But only as a friend of course she reminds herself, only as a friend.

Lily is 17 and loves her boys. Not Severus, who she barely even thinks about anymore, but Peter and Sirius and Remus and James. She loves Petunia and she’s starting to think that Petunia just may love her back a tiny bit. But it’s ok if she doesn’t lily decided. She’s finally content with being the sister who waits the sister who loves more freely. Lily likes going for walks at night. She likes grabbing her ratty pair of sneakers by the door and sneaking out. She likes the way the streets look when no ones on them. She likes the peace of it all. She likes the way the night air gives her a feeling of suspense. The night makes her feel like anything is possible and anything could happen at any moment. She likes do laundry with her mum. She likes sitting on the dryer and folding the clothes that her mum passes her while she tells her stories about when when she was younger. She likes the warmth of the clothes and the smell of the laundry and the sound of her mums laugh. Lily likes socks. She likes wearing the ones that are mismatched and the ones that have holes in the toe. She likes stuffing the dirty ones in Mary’s face for her to smell. She likes falling asleep in places that aren’t her bed. This particular habit happens to be one that she shares with Remus. The result of this led to a chart being made by Sirius and Marlene. Next to Lily’s name was, common room floor, Mary’s bed, staircase, great hall, peter’s bed, floor of boys room, floor of girls room, library, and charms class. Remus was the clear winner next to his name he had, every class he has ever taken, common room floor, every seat in common room, courtyard, astronomy tower, quidditch pitch, great hall, Sirius’s bed, boys floor, library, three broomsticks, supply closet, and a few passages. She liked the chart and the memories and teasing that went along with it. She liked napping next to Remus in the common room and the way he looked so peaceful. She likes firewhiskey. She likes the way it warms her all the way from her stomach to her fingertips. She likes proclaiming loudly and often that she could drink anyone who dares under the table. And she liked even better that she actually could, a fact that Sirius still gripes about. Lily liked dares. She liked both getting them and giving them. Her favorite dare to date was the one she gave Marlene the first week of this year. Marlene and Sirius had been loudly and aggressively flirting for the past year and a half and lily was tired of neither of them actually doing anything about it. So one night after a few bottles of firewhiskey she dared Marlene to give Sirius a Lap dance. Marlene was never one to back down from a challenge drunkenly stood up and Sirius nearly passed out before she even walked over to him. The music played and she swayed her hips and not even thirty seconds went by before he grabbed her and the two were heatedly making out. She liked the way the rest of them yelled and laughed and the choruses of finally. She liked the two of them together they were loud and obnoxious and completely in love. She still likes dancing in the common room. She likes twirling so fast that her skirt goes up and laughs at the hoots and hollers of her boys. Lily likes Mary and she couldn’t give less of a fuck that Mary liked girls. She liked that none of them cared at all and instead we’re always in constant search of finding Mary a girlfriend, something that always led to Mary blushing and hiding her face in her hands. She likes when they all play hide n seek like they’re little kids again. She always hides with Peter because he some how manages to find the best hiding places. She likes the way everyone groans that they win every round and the way Peter holds her hand up in victory. She likes Alice and Frank together. She likes watching them talk quietly to each other and giggle. They’re both soft and kind and absolutely perfect for each other. She likes cauldrons. She likes talking constantly about all the different makes and models and the proper ways to clean them and the slight effects each has on every different potion. The only person that will ever listen to her drone on and on about them is James. She likes James more than she’s ever liked anyone else before. She first kissed him after the first quidditch game of the season. James had been very worried before hand and was constantly griping about how essential it was for them to win. Lily showed up to every practice beforehand to scrutinize and give her advice. It usually led to the two of them arguing but she did it anyway. At the last practice before the game she told him that he needed to do a full roll fake out before shooting to avoid a defender. “ I can’t do that do you even know how hard that is?!” He had yelled back at her. “Liam pofcery does it all the time!” She answered arms crossed. “He’s been a professional for ten years how am I supposed to do that?” James had groaned. But at the game she watched from the stands and he did it and they won. She sprinted on to the pitch afterwards jumped onto him nearly knocking him over and kissed him. She liked the way the world stopped for a moment when she did it. All the people screaming seemed to blur for a moment and all she could see was him. She was kissing James. She liked his stupid face of surprise right before she did it. She liked the way he immediately kissed her back fiercely and intensely. She liked the way he grabbed her tight as if she might let go or change her mind and pull away. She had no intention of doing that because she liked the way he kissed way too much. She likes kissing James. After the first one it all started to rush into place. She could finally admit to herself all the things she liked about him. She liked his eyes and how they were always bright as if he just told a joke. She liked his hands and how they were big and rough from holding a broom. She liked his hair and the funny way it stuck out at all ends. She liked how fucking tall he was and how she had to pull his tie for him to lean down and kiss her. She liked laying with him at night and hearing him breathe. She liked pushing him off the bed when he snored and laughing when he tickled her in retaliation. She liked the way he exasperatedly yelled her name when she made him mad. She liked that he’d twirl her in the common room and on the quidditch pitch and in the astronomy tour and anywhere else he could think of. She pretended not to like when he constantly went around and told everyone she was his girlfriend. She liked that he was bestfriends with her friends and she with his. She liked how everything was perfect. Even when it wasn’t. Peter served detention four times for cursing Slytherins who threatened her. Which was three less than the 7 times Remus served for doing the same thing. Mary and Marlene both were in the hospital wing twice with broken knuckles. But nothing beat Sirius and James’s 10 detentions and 3 hospital wing visits in the matter of four months. Lily yelled at all of them that she didn’t need their help that she could take the insults and threats just fine and handle herself perfectly on her own. But she liked the way they all rolled their eyes when she screamed. She liked that when the letters from the Order came they all said yes without hesitation. None of them needed a second to think or consider it. They were all ready to get out of school and start actually doing something to help. They were all ready to fight. She liked the way they spent their last few days in school. They broke out every night and drank and danced in the courtyard. She dared Alice to skinny dip again and soon they were all freezing and splashing and dying from laughter. The world was fucked up and the war was coming but for those few nights they were kids in love. In love with their friends, in love with the night and the stars, in love with the laughter that gave them aches to their bones, in love with the naive idea that they’d all be ok that this and them would all last forever. She liked remembering those nights and that feeling right before she went to sleep. She liked sleeping with all of the blankets wrapped around her, a fact that always led to James complaining. She didn’t like James Potter at all. She loved him.

Imagine being one of Negan's wives and Carl having a crush on you, only for your husband to start teasing him about it a little too much

(I turned this from a Daryl to a Negan ome shot as it has been a while since i’ve wrote one for him :3 Especially some fluff! Hope it is as requested and you all like it :3 Gifs not mine/found them on google/credits to the original owners.)


Since you had been so good with your begging and pleas, Negan had decided to take you along to his recent visit to Alexandria.

He called it a date between you and him and it made you laugh to hear him say that, without denying him, you also love the idea of being the only wife for one day.

It had been quite some time since Negan had made a deal with the community there and from what you’ve heard about the place you couldn’t help but want to visit to see it with your very own eyes.

The drive was long enough but you had quite some time to fool around and enjoy the company of Negan.

Upon arrival at the gate, you weren’t disappointed. The walls were high and everything seemed so secure with not even one walker in sight that you just had to make a comment about how drab the Sanctuary looked in comparison.

“Wow…This makes our home look like way crappier than it already does!”

Your husband laughed and shook his head at your comment. Leaning closer, he whispered in your ear, “Really? Better than our sweet home? Do you need me to show you every corner of our place…with my dick inside you…to be reminded of how great it is all again…”

You held in your laughter at his joke and pushed him away from you, asking him to stop as he kept trying to get closer and closer.

He was always like that with you, making crude jokes while you were being innocent for a moment. You like that about him actually and for once it made you forget about what the world had become.

~~~~~

Although, he was this cheerful and in a mood, it came to a stop when the cars themselves stopped. After he stepped out, being a gentleman to you he hand led his hand to help you out of the car.

The gate opened to reveal the people there and with no hesitation you smiled softly as you would usually.

You greeted them and from their expressions, you could tell they hadn’t expected someone like you to be around all of these Saviors.

It felt a little awkward as they got quiet from your bright way of greeting them but nonetheless they acknowledge you, despite it mostly being from the way Negan had glared at them.

You took in the view and your amazement couldn’t be stopped. The houses and the people, truly reminded you of your neighborhood.

Without even asking, you kissed Negan’s cheek and walked passed him, having decided to take a tour on your own, while he and the others went on about their business.

~~~~

Luckily for you, it was a warm sunny day, making it easy to just wander around. It had been quiet some time since you had seen any other people than the faces you knew, you couldn’t help but smile at each of them.

Suddenly, you took notice of a young boy walking around while pushing a stroller. You knew for a fact, that there must’ve been a baby inside and quickly you made your way towards him.

You just love kids so much, you had to hold the baby, especially since it’s been ages since you’ve seen one.

As you got closer to the boy, you carefully greeted him and smiled.

“Hi…It’s a nice day to take a stroll…”

As Carl heard you, he stopped himself. He looked at you from head to toe and could tell you were probably several years older than him yet nonetheless, you were quite pretty to him.

Not to mention how nicely you were dressed, it made him blush at the thought of how pretty you were, not even for a moment that he thought you were among the Saviors.

He stuttered and looked away, realizing his actions and simply answered, “I-It is!”

You chuckled and approached him, trying to catch a glimpse of inside the stroller. He noticed you and as you looked back up at him, you shrugged and tucked your hair behind your ear.

You saw the child and instantly couldn’t help but let out how cute she was.

“Aw…Is this your little sister?”

He nodded and opened the visor to reveal the cute little blonde girl. He told you her name and signaled you that you could stroke her hair.

“Yeah, she is…Her name’s Judith…”

“Judith…That’s a pretty name…Do you mind if I hold her?”

It unnerved him to hear you and made him realize he had no idea of where you came from. He seemed in deep thought and ended up staring at you even more to check if you had any weapon on you.

He figured things out and nodded at you. “No not at all…Go ahead…”, he said as he stood by and took her out for you.

Your smile grew to see her and even more as you held her in your arms.

“Wow…Such a pretty little girl, you are…Yes you are…look at your small little hands…so cute…”

Compliments from you, kept pouring in as you held the little girl. She was undeniably adorable and from the way she acted with you, she clearly enjoyed you.

She cupped your face and laughed as you playfully shook your head and kept her entertained for quite some time, even earning you a little peck from her.

It surprised Carl to see his little sister get so comfortable with a stranger but still made him smile to look at you both.

“I think she really likes you…”

You turned your attention back to him and nodded along, joking around with him.

“I think so too…She really has good taste in people!”

As he laughed, you then ended up staying by and playing with her for a long while, making Carl grow to trust you.

You both spoke to each other as well and had seem to hit it off well. He thought it was easy to speak to you and couldn’t help but laugh and smile from your genuine humor.

He just felt so comfortable, he had forgotten about his worries for a moment and you had both ended sitting by the porch of his house.

He even noticed how prettier you were and couldn’t stop himself from staring at your features. He blushed every time you would look back at him and even worst when you had praised him for being so brave.

~~~~

As the time passed, you had notice everyone starting to walk away and decided to get up. You handed him his little sister back and smiling at him, you said, “Well…I guess I have to get back now…My people are about to leave…”

It caught him off guard, you were apart of the Saviors, he couldn’t believe it.

“Y-you’re with them?”

You nodded and ruffled his hair to try and cheer him up from his obvious worried and concern look.

“Don’t worry…Not all of them are bad…”

He liked the way you had touched him and you noticed how hard he blushed from it. It made you smile again and wanting him to trust you, you pecked him quickly on the cheek.

“See you next time, Carl…”

As you said that and were about to walk away, suddenly a familiar voice roared.

“Woah! Holy shit! Carl! Are you trying to steal MY woman!”

It was Negan and he was making his way towards you both rather quickly. He stared at the boy wide eyed and with a rather funny expression, not understanding the situation.

Hearing him, you turned back to look at him and just shook your head, knowing that he was probably going to make some bad jokes about it.

In all honesty, it shocked Carl even more to know that you were with Negan and couldn’t hide his disappointment from him.

“S-She’s with you?”

Negan smirked and approached closer to you, grabbing your waist tightly to him. You stared at him and he stared back at you. He was smirking, oddly it seemed more than genuine and you couldn’t tell if it was because he was having fun or was it because he was admitting to you being his, either way it made your heart skip a beat to see him like that.

“Hell freaking yeah! She’s mine! What did you think?!”

Carl was oddly getting pissed and just didn’t want it to be true that you belong to Negan, especially as he knew you weren’t the only wife he had.

He felt somewhat bad and feeling confident about himself, he got up and faced your man.

“I just didn’t think someone like her would willingly want to be with a psycho like you!”

He nearly spat at Negan and his comment definitely made him laugh. You laughed as well and shook your head.

“Goddamn! Right on! Now that is the badassness I wanted! Wanna fight me for her?”

You rolled your eyes at his comment and grabbed his arm to pull him away.

“Come on Negan…Stop messing around with him…I’m so sorry Carl…”

He didn’t budged and stared at the boy for a long while with his big grin, wide eyed and realized something. He kept blushing and staring at you, making him understand that he certainly grew to have a crush on you.

However, he had also witness you pecking on his cheek and knew that also had to be another reason behind his redness.

Instead of leaving him alone, he leaned backwards and made another comment to see his reaction.

“Are you still blushing? Oh come on! You’re supposed to be a badass…Not a blushing boy… Don’t tell me it was that kiss…Come on when a hot woman, like Y/N, kisses you, you don’t lose your balls like that! If you’re going to steal my woman might as well be worthy of it, kid!”

He kept egging him on and you just felt bad for him and even more when your husband mentioned the young boy’s missing eye.

“Tell me…Did you show her…Your awesome missing eye…You know…The socket…the dried up blood…”

You could see that from his words, Carl suddenly was shying away from him. His head dropped down and himself trying to cover his bandage with his hair as Negan kept getting closer.

“Don’t be like that! Show her your eye! You like her don’t you! If you do then show her what you are and who you really are! A psychopathic future serial killer with a disgusting eye…That’s who you are…”

His nose was now crinkling and you knew he was more than on the verge of tears, and that you couldn’t handle it, the idea of child crying was a little too much for you.

You pulled Negan back and went closer to Carl. Turning towards your old man, you crossed your arms and sternly told him, “Alright, enough Negan…You’re making him cry…It’s not funny anymore…”

~~~~

As Carl heard you, he figured you would side with him even more if he gave you a real show and just decided to go with it. He teared up even more and as you heard him, you turned to look at him to wrap your arm around his shoulder.

You pulled him closer and with your other hand you wiped his tears away. It made Negan instantly jealous and suddenly he stood up straight, trying to ask you to come back to him.

“It’s okay Carl…Don’t listen to him…He’s always like that…”

He nodded and you felt his breathing being ragged. It tore you up even more and stroking his hair, you looked him in the eye and said, “You don’t need to worry so much about your eye…You’re a charming young man…That’s just a little scar, don’t let it be your weakness and bring you down…Especially not from a big man child like Negan!”

You shot your gaze back at him and he looked shocked. It made you smirk to see him that way and as you looked back at Carl, you noticed him nodding and wiping his tears away.

“Thank you, Y/N…”, he mumbled under his breath. It made you feel oddly warm to cheer him up that way and you couldn’t resist to peck him on the cheek again and pull him into a hug as you said your goodbyes. His sister cheered him up as well with her own hug and you all stayed in a little embrace for a moment, making your husband more than jealous of the situation.

“Don’t mention it…See you next time…Okay…”, you said as you stroked his hair back and cupped his cheek for a moment.

You then looked back at Negan and crossing your arms, said, “And you mister! No more teasing him like that…he’s not yours to torment!”

He couldn’t find anything to say and as you approached him he opened his mouth, only for you to push him away and walk pass him.

You were being playful with him and laughed as he called your name from behind. He turned back to look at Carl and noticed him smiling.

~~~~

He had thought of apologizing for it but seeing him like that, dumbfounded him and pointing towards him, he said,“Wh-Why the hell are you smiling? Y-you were a mess earlier…”

Carl shrugged and feeling bold told him, “I was…But you know…I can pretend…and I got Y/N to cheer me up…She kissed my cheek twice…She hugged me…and most importantly she picked me over you…”

And with that, he turned back to walk in his house, leaving Negan shocked behind.

It made him stutter out, “Y-you! You tricked her! Unfair! Hey come back out!”

In a slight panic, he ran back towards you and started acting like a pouty and grumpy kid.

“Y/N! Y/N! Y/N! Wait for me!”

~~~~

He was quite fast and surprised you as he stood near you. Walking with you towards the cars, he held your arm and reported to you what had happened.

“Carl lied to you! He was faking it! The tears and everything else!”

You rolled your eyes at him and shook your head to hear him. You just had a feeling Negan was being petty and acting like that just to get your attention.

“Yeah right…Your words and attitude really didn’t get under a young boy’s skin…Jeez Negan…Like i’d ever believe that…”

“B-but- He admitted it!”

“No buts mister…I’ve seen you make grown men and women cry like that from your unnecessary comments…so a young teenager is no exception…”

He frowned even more and looked away from you, he just couldn’t believe you weren’t siding with him.

You laughed to check on him and decided to cheer him back up as you got nearer to the cars.

“Are you seriously jealous of a teenager, Negan?”

He looked back at you and seemed to hesitate between yes and no. You sighed and cupped his face and told him, “Well you shouldn’t…I love you…Not anyone else…”

At those words, his smile came back and he chuckled. Shrugging out of excitement, he held your hands in his and asked you, “Really?”

“Yes, really…Now stop acting like a baby…and get over it…”

He bit his lip and ended up nodding in agreement until you added more.

“Also…No more teasing him like that…I know you were trying to be playful…But that’s not the way to get to know a kid at first…Maybe when you get closer, you can start teasing and roasting him like that…”

He looked up and down and took a deep breath before looking back into your eyes. He reluctantly nodded and ended up agreeing.

“Fine…i’ll try…I won’t hurt his little feelings…”

“That’s good to hear…”

You nodded along and pecked him on the lips to hear his answer. You stared at each other with a smile and about to laugh, only for him to add a little something.

“Yeah…but that doesn’t mean I won’t keep my eyes off of him from now on whenever you’re around…”

As you opened the door to get in the car, you stood still for a moment and tilted your head to the side as you asked him to explain.

“What do you mean by that?”

He seemed taken aback and ended staying by the open car door just as you before answering you in his loud voice.

“Don’t tell me you didn’t notice?! Y/N it’s been the subject matter since the freaking beginning! He clearly has some weird fucking crush on you! Did you see the way he looked at you?!”

You laughed at his meaning and knew it was the perfect moment to tease him about it.

“Negan, language! And…Of course I noticed! It’s me we were talking about…Of course that was bound to happen…I just have that magic on every guy!”

You wiggled your eyebrows at him and smirk mischievously, leaving him hanging as you stepped in the car.

He followed you and was trying to convince you of never coming back to make sure Carl wasn’t going to have his hopes up, only for you to laugh and be adamant about coming back and keeping the promise you made to the young man, making him get frustrated again.

Fuel to Fire (3)

Stucky x reader

Notes: fluff, tattooing, some angst, smut (m/m and m/m/f), anxiety, depression, mentions of parental negligence, swearing. 

Summary: Living their dream, Bucky and Steve run their tattoo shop ‘American Ink’ together, happily married for several years and business is going well. When a girl walks into their shop and inevitably into their lives right after they’ve received some exciting news, they have no idea how their lives are about to change with some harmless but straight-forward flirting.

Fuel to Fire (intro) Fuel to fire (2)

A/N: Take caution, guys. It’s pretty sad and graphic story telling. 

“There’s something about her, Buck. She’s smart, gorgeous; but there’s something different” Steve muses as he’s calmly, though focused, moving his pencil across paper. The sketchbook lays on Bucky’s shins that are haphazardly placed in Steve’s lap.

“I know. I’m not sure what it is either, but there’s a darkness there” Bucky muses, watching their giant flatscreen television, though not really watching whatever show is playing.

“Yeah” Steve mumbles, and Bucky notices he’s not drawing anymore.

“Can I see?”

Steve shrugs and hands his sketchpad over. The design is simple, no fuss, exactly like Y/N comes across to them. The front sight of an Orchid, a straight lined triangle drawn over it. Within the lines of the triangle, the Orchid is detailed and clear. Outside of them, the petals of the flower are dark coloured and detailed as well, like looking at the negative of a photograph. It’s a rough draw, but beautiful on its own.

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