please tell me that they had their moments

Things the Hogwarts Houses say

(loosely based on conversations I’ve had/overheard)

Hufflepuff -

  • “If you don’t start singing along to High School Musical with me in under 30 seconds you will no longer be my best friend" 
  •  "I swear on my chicken nuggets-”
  • “Yes I made that joke up by my self - no it’s not from Spongebob Squarepants how dARE YOU-”
  • “Speaking of Spongebob can we just take a few moments to discuss how much of a masterpiece that first movie was please”
  • “Ah yes, it’s 3 in the morning, time to get emotional and tell all my friends how much I love them”
  • “You made me chocolate??? Oh my God I love you so much thank you I’ll have some right no - THIS HAS RAISINS IN IT YOU TRICKED ME
  • “Oh my God yeah I saw that movie, my favourite part was when - oh shit wait there’s this adorable kitten video I meant to show you last week and I completely forgot let me get it up on my phone”
  • “Sorry I’m late I was up all night watching those videos where kids get surprised with puppies”
  • “Are you awake? Great, let’s start planning our future homes together, I have a pinterest board ready”
  • “This is my favourite photo album! It’s full of photos of all the cats and dogs I’ve made friends with on my walks, I’ve even given them all names”
  • (crying) “Stop calling me emotional God damn it”

Ravenclaw -

  •  "Of course I remember you said you liked the colour red, you told me at like 1:35 am last year in May"
  • “What? Simplifying equations? No, I can’t help with that but I do know all the words to every Simpsons episode in the first 5 seasons if that helps"
  • “Sorry I really can’t go out today. No I’m fine, I’m just stressed I’m doing something important. I’m trying to memorise all the words to this documentary about frogs - What? Yes of course it’s important!”
  • “I discovered and fully analysed that meme 3 weeks ago, step up your game”
  • “What do you mean why do I have a folder full of strategic plans on how to succeed at animal crossing, that’s not weird?”
  • “Sir, I don’t mean to be rude but I’ve been doing my own research and you’re getting all of this wrong. Well yes I know I’m not the teacher here but - Yes, actually, I’d love to teach the class my self I’ve already made a lesson plan, thank you”
  • No, I won’t come and see Jurassic World with you. Because it’s completely unrealistic! Do you have any idea what dinosaurs are actually supposed to have sounded and looked like? Even adult velociraptors weren’t meant to be that b - OK you know what, I will come, but I’ll be pointing out every single problem to you. No, it’s too late, you already invited me. I’m buying our tickets right now, don’t move”
  • “You really think you can beat me at Mario Kart? I have spent YEARS studying this game and honing my skills, spending hours upon hours training until my hands cramp and even my tv is judging the amount of time I’ve spent playing and you think YOU can beat me? Let’s fucking go
  • “I think these guys think I want to murder them because I followed them home but it’s only because I overheard them talking about what would happen if Pokemon is real and I wanted to see how good their logic was”
  • “Shut up? Shut up? I haven’t shut up for 17 years and I’m not about to start now”
  • (crying) "I just want Shakespeare’s ghost to be proud of me”

Gryffindor - 

  • “I’d love to have a sleepover but it can only be when there’s a thunderstorm so we can dance in the rain, let me check the weather forecast”
  • “Did that bee just try and sting you? COME BACK HERE BEE YOU COWARD I’M GONNA FUCK YOU UP - wait shit no run”
  • "What did you say? Don’t touch it? Alright.” (touches it as soon as the person turns away) “Sucker”
  • “Whaaat? Someone wrote on the desk? No it wasn’t me I would never do th - My name was there? Well, I’m not the only one in the world with my na - My surname was there too? What are the chances?!”
  • “Help me I started saying lmao ironically and I can’t stop”
  • “Before you say anything it wasn’t me - unless it was something awesome then I definitely planned the whole thing”
  • Excuse me? They said what to you? … I have to go for a second, I just remembered something completely unrelated. No, no, I’m not taking this fork with me for any particular reason”
  • “Um, did you just tell me it’s impossible to sing along to a guitar solo? Stand back. Your mind is about to get blown”
  • “I am so not drunk! I’m completely drunk! … Wait shit I meant sober”
  • “I’M SO PROUD OF YOU AAAH LET ME HUG YOU! I’M NOT LETTING GO FOR THE NEXT 3 HOURS, GET COMFORTABLE BITCH”
  • “I bet I can stay up for longer than you - what no I’m not tired shut up - nO THAT WASN’T A YAWN I WAS JUST SHOWING YOU WHAT IT WOULD LOOK LIKE IF I WAS TIRED - SEE I DID IT AGAIN TOTALLY ON PURPO - ok fuck you I’m going to sleep”

Slytherin - 

  • “Oh my God, just tell me what you did already so I can start complaining”
  • “Sorry, I didn’t catch that. Did you say STOP saying fuck, or KEEP ON saying fuck?”
  • “Over your dead body? I was hoping you’d say that”
  • “If you even LOOK at them one more time I will take a stick as big as your ego and stick it right up your-”
  • “Don’t come near me or - OK fine, we can snuggle for exactly 15 minutes. I’m setting a timer now”
  • “Hey, I saw you posted a picture of us on instagram yesterday where my eyeliner isn’t completely straight? You’re gonna have to delete that, if anyone thinks my eyeliner isn’t drop dead perfect every day and that I’m not a literal make up goddess I’ll lose my reputation as the Regina George of the school”
  • “But keep the one where I’m wearing no make up so that all those bitches know I still kill it without trying”
  • “Oh come on, you know I’d never do anything to embarrass you! Speaking of which, that video I posted on youtube the other day of you falling down the flight of escalators in the shopping centre has reached over 1000 views”
  • “My dad told me tattoos were trashy so I got a giant tattoo saying ‘trashy’ on my back I’ll send you his reaction later”
  • “I’m not a sentimental person but if you touch my teddy bear I will turn you into a stuffed trophy to put next to him”
  • “What do you mean I look smug this is my normal face”

klance things that should happen esp after s3:

  • “I care about you a lot”
  • keith talking to some random stranger about lance and complimenting him like he did with him in beta traz while looking down fondly. “i have a…friend who always complains about my mullet. he’s a very good sharpshooter and also my right-hand man i don’t know what i would without him.” “you seem fond of him.” “I am.”
  • training session together where 50% of the stuff they do is flirting
  • another solo mission together where they fight back to back
  • they find an alternate reality where they’re together and this makes them think a lot about what they could be in theirs
  • lance starts wearing something red to match his new lion and keith tells him “you look good in my colors”
  • the team starts noticing lance flirts less than usual 
  • one of those clichè scenes where one character makes a decision that makes their loved one proud and has them looking softly at them
  • keith and lance offering to wingman for each other but ending up describing each other as their ideal partner while talking to someone “ofc you would like lance who wouldn’t he’s beautiful i mean what”
  • they’re facing off an enemy who’s making fun of them for not being strong enough and lance is lie “he’s strong!! he cradled me in his arms once!!” and keith deadass stops in the middle of the battle to shout “YOU REMEMBER”
  • holding! hands! in! battle! as! they’re! running! away! from! something!
  • “lance makes me happy”
  • a parallel of the shut your quiznak scene but this time lance is saying it fondly and keith laughs while saying “i still don’t think you’re using that correctly”
  • “he’s not my boyfriend!!” “but you want him to be”
  • lance making a cryptid joke for keith
  • lance leans in for an hug and keith blushes bc he thinks he was gonna kiss him
  • “well i do have a boyfriend!!!” *points at keith panicking*
  •  awkwardly asking each other out for a date in the pool but both make sure they don’t mention the word “date” at all
  • lance distracting keith during a plan exposition by putting his hand on his shoulder or on his own hand
  • keith sees that someone is trying to make lance feel bad and he’s furious and goes up to that person like “yo take that back immediately”
  • lance being slightly jealous of seeing someone talking to keith and masks it with an excuse like “i don’t want him to find someone before me cuz ya know…rivals” (no one believes that though) keith: lance i’m not with xx i just wanted to see if u were gonna confess
  • keith gets asked if he likes someone and he’s like “well there is someone…” *looks at lance while sighing*
  • they take a selfie with lance’s space phone. (bc duh, needs to happen)
  • keith looking fondly at lance while everyone else is looking at something else. “cute right?” keith, looking at lance: yeah “i’m not sure we’re talking about the same thing”
  • keith gifting lance with something and blushing while handing it to him. idc what it is it can be whatever and lance being almost speechless. “you got this…for me?”
  • keith: please be careful!! lance: always am!
  • keith to lance: man you are cuddly
  • lance: did i miss something pidge: oh just keith complaining about bonding moments lance: ok so nothing new then
  • keith telling lance “i’ve never met anyone like you” because i live for the clichè stuff dont judge
  • the classic “ we got stuck somewhere alone together and now we gotta talk about our feelings” kind of thing
  • lance showing off his bf once they’re dating “yep! i’m dating him!!!” 
  • more alone conversations where lance tells keith about his life as an uncle
  • hunk accidentally mentioning that lance had a crush on keith at the garrison.  “ like at the garrison you clearly like ke—” “KEN I LIKED KEN REMEMBER KEN?? AHHA GOOD OL’ GUY” “there was no one…named ken”
  • running after each other for something? because i’ve realized we’ve never seen that in canon and soft music is playing in the back
  • keith gifting lance with his bom blade once they’re together “i want you to have this”
  • an “i thought you were dead!” moment where keith kisses lance without hesitation and lance replies with “well i am know”
  • lance fingergunning at keith pls and thank u
  • the “fine” “fine” “fine” “FINE” thing when they get into arguments and they end up giving each other the silent treatment but it lasts like one minute and if it starts seriously, it ends jokingly
  • the pool scene becomes an inside joke like the bonding moment:  “we went to the pool together!!!!”  “keith you wanted to stay away from me??” “well you forgot our bonding moment!”“oh god not this again….”
  • a moment where they both turn at each other smirking and everybody is like “lol ur smiling at each other” and they’re like “no we’re not” but their mouths are still curved in a smile
  • they become very clingy with each other and don’t realize it until someone points it out
  • they swap clothes for one day and no one questions it. “they’re doing their thing as usual”
  • “are you hugging me?” “looks like i am” “thank you i needed that”
  • “when i said that I don’t hate you….i meant something else also”
  • can we uhhhh get mind-reading aliens that can sense their feelings for each other
  • “lets do this” and then they smile at each other
  • keith slipping that he likes lance in the middle of a very tough battle bc he doesnt know what will happen OR “if i dont make it…tell lance i love him”
  • keith at 2 am: hey pidge lance looked at me for more than one second today what do you think i should do
  • they try to make sure they always stand next to each other

Submitted by @ lord-of-the-dark-realms 

Siblings

So, I had this thought after reading several stories about humans giving birth and not having eggs.  What if aliens do not have ‘family units’ the same way humans do, but instead raise children in more of a group setting.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Captain H'roll'ah was excited to have hired on not just 1 but 3 humans, all of whom were extremely qualified for space travel.  Even better, they were all from the same clan and so there would be no rivalry or refusal to work together because of old scores to settle.

“Captain! Three humans just came in a have taken over the dining area! WHAT SHOULD WE DO?!?” Ensign Khralhen was out of breath and panicked, but his species was notoriously afraid of humans after it became public knowledge how dangerous they were.  Not that his own was much better, but H'roll'ah knew that these humans should be here and it was probably near a meal time for them.  How could such an evolutionary advanced and apated species not figure out a way to avoid needing 3 or meals a day was beyond H'roll'ah.

“It is fine, Ensign Khralhen.  These are likely the Humans that I just signed on to the crew.  They are from the same clan, so they should work at peak efficiency,” the Captain answered, trying to put as much calm and soothing into his voice as possible, “Let us go introduce ourselves and welcome them so that the ‘pack-bonding’ can begin.”

~~

“Greetings, I am Captain H'roll'ah and this is Ensign Khralhen, our cook.”

“Nice ta meetcha! Cook, huh? Guess we best buddy up to you right quick then!” said the male.  He was average height for a human and perhaps a little on the heavy side, but H'roll'ah knew that it was likely muscle not fat.  After all, this human and one of his female companions were security personnel.

“Always thinking with you stomach, Thomas.  How about you buddy up to the Captain, so that we do not get kicked off this boat? Hmm?” said the smaller female, later identified as Samantha or “Sam” for ease.  "Small" being used only in comparison because she did not have the bulk of her clanmates.  She must be the medical officer.  H'roll'ah was worried that she would be distant from her clanmates but her body language suggested extreme comfort and trust, above what H'roll'ah felt for his own clanmates of different castes.  The third human, Laura if the captain remembered correctly, remained silent but was constantly looking around, as if expecting an attack at any moment, not that strange considering all that H'roll'ah had hear about Earth.

“Well then, please tell me what times that the three of you eat, and I will prepare food for you then.  Also, please tell me any dietary restrictions you have so that you do not have any medical incidents,” Khralhen said, realizing that the humans could be bribed with food as easily as a Con'valix could be bribed with fruits.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

(3 Months Later)

Captain H'roll'ah was surprised at how well the humans worked together.  He thought that they might exceed standard human operating efficiency by 10%, but regularly they were 20-25% better than the reported average.  They barely needed to vocalize to communicate, and they were able to remember each other’s needs and the needs of the crew extremely well.  Captain H'roll'ah decided to ask them how they did it, and if it was a clan trait, where he could hire more humans of clan “Walker.”

“Thomas clan Walker, do you have a few minutes to talk about personal matters?” The captain asked, assuming that Thomas would, since he was off shift and relaxing in the lounge.

“Sure thing, hoss.  What can I do for you?  And I hope this isn’t about my or Laura’s tattoo’s, because we had to settle a bet on that a few days ago,” Thomas answered easily.  He was a bit flippant for the captain’s taste, but his results were impeccable and the other humans followed his lead, which spoke volumes for the man.  

“I was hoping that you could explain how you and your clanmates have achieved such a high efficiency rate.  You perform well above average, even for clanmates who grew up together.”

“Clanmates? Oh, that’s right! Sam mentioned that your species, and most species on this ship raise their young in a group setting and the kids hatch from eggs, right?”

“That is correct, and please do not remind me that human females carry their young in their bodies like a parasite.  The last time Sam explained that, it was enough to make all of us wonder how humans have managed to reproduce at all.” H'roll'ah still shuddered when he thought of it, and Khralhen wasn’t able to cook for 3 days after Sam had explained human reproduction.

“Fair enough, I think we reproduce more by accident that anything else, but yeah.  Me, Laura, and Sam are not clanmates like you think,” Thomas chuckled and shook his head, “We are siblings.”

“I do not know this word,” H'roll'ah answered uneasily.  In his experience, an unknown term from a human meant that something painful, gross, horrifying, or all 3 was about to be revealed.

“Sam could explain it better, and having Laura here only seems fair…” Thomas trailed off as he reached for his comm.  "Hey, brats (again with the casual disrespect), can you both get up to the lounge? Captain wants to know about siblings.“ H'roll'ah was always surprised that Thomas clan Walker could be disrespectful when asking for others to do something.

“Sure, be right up,” Sam responded.  She was likely a floor up in the medical facilities and wanted to take a break.

“Grrhhrhhgg.” Laura clan Walker had been sleeping, then, and did not want to come.

“Thanks, ladies, you can both explain family better than me.”  Now the captain was worried again because there was a second new word being bandied around.

~~~

“So, captain, a family unit for humans is very small compared to yours of Ensign Khralhen’s,” Sam explained, “A family is usually made up of the mother and/or father or a surrogate who has assumed that role and the children.  It usually numbers no more than 4-7 individuals.”

“But…But…how do you grow or develop? And to place all that burden on only one or two adults, how do they do anything else?” spluttered K'roll'ah.  He was shocked to find out that humans in the region called ‘America’ did not have an open community.

“Well, children who share 1 or both parents are called “siblings”, and they develop together.  The adults are called “parents”, and yeah, there is a definite loss of freedom involved.“

“So then, you three are…siblings?” H'roll'ah asked.

“Yes, Thomas is the oldest, and Laura is the youngest, with me in the middle,” answered Sam, “and our father bailed on us after Laura was 3 years old, so Tom became the ‘man of the house’ at 7 years old.”

THAT explained Thomas clan Walker’s attitude! Captain H'roll'ah realized that Thomas clan Walker had been in a command position and not had a commander from a young age!

“So that is why you both follow him? He is the new leader”

“Kind of, he is just the best at leading.  He knows what to do and does it well.” Laura answered, which was rare; she was the most quiet of the three.

“And the reason for your peak efficiency?” Captain H'roll'ah asked, determined to get an answer to his question.

“Well, we have known each other all our lives and spent most of those lives in close proximity to each other.  We just understand each other from the long familiarity and exposure.”

“Ah, the same way a pilot becomes better from being on the same ship, just with a person instead.”

“Exactly! And if you are interested in hiring others we are familiar with, we have some cousins, children of our parents’ siblings, who we know very well and want to get into space.”

“Then I will look them up, thank you for answering my questions." 

Humans were a strange species.  Instead of focusing on a large community, they developed close bonds with only a few people who share familial ties with them.  Captain H'roll'ah did hire the 'cousins’ and they worked out very well.  The human guidebook was updated to notify captains that humans sharing close blood ties have the potential to perform at higher than normal efficiency.  

~~

Now somebody write a story about a captain hiring siblings who hate/cannot stand each other!

Day One Hundred and Four

-I witnessed a young girl in a tiara being pushed around the store, the soundtrack to Moana being blasted from an indeterminate location. She has figured it out. She is living the true Disney princess life.

-Two squabbling toddlers came through my lane. As expected, stickers soothed the savage youth instantaneously, turning them into pinnacles of behavior. I am convinced that I have been unwittingly brought into a Snickers commercial as the Supplier.

-A man zoomed past my lane, hustling and hobbling on his way towards the bathroom, his eyes darting all around, his hands clutching a hidden object beneath his shirt. I am grateful for the shoplifters who opt to take it easy on me. It is far too early for me to be at the top of my game, and I appreciate the handicap. 

-A boy chanted, “Circle paint. Circle paint. Circle paint.” He grasped a wooden circle and a bottle of paint. I suspect that he intends to coat the circle with the paint. Only time will tell.

-Moments after being berated and ridiculed by a pair of elderly women, I was visited by a pair of puckish toddlers. Somehow sensing how crestfallen I had become, they stepped up their antics, making the most absurd facial expressions and noises in a heartfelt attempt to cheer me up. I am pleased to say that their endeavors were a positive success.

-I passed by a mother sternly explaining to her two year-old son that, were he to smack my manager, he would be sent directly to jail. I am not sure what he could have done to warrant such a warning, but this child does not seem too likely to heed it.

-A woman asked if we carried shoes. I told her that we did. She asked me where they were. I gave her detailed directions. She continued with her purchase. I asked her if she would like to go back to look. She told me that she was not interested in shoes. I do not know what I was thinking to presume as much of her.

-While attending to urgent corporate business, I found a comic book pamphlet entitled, “TITANIC” sitting on the toilet paper dispenser. Upon further inspection, I have found that it is a Christian story of how the Titanic hit the iceberg due to one man saying that he hated Jesus. This is not the first piece of religious literature, or religerature, that I have found in this stall, and I cross my fingers that it will not be the last.

-A woman asked if the shirts that she had just purchased had pockets. After I confirmed that they did not, she explained that she was worried as my shirt did. The shirt that I was wearing was by no means the same style, type, or brand, and had come from a different store, but I am a firm believer that it is always better to be safe than sorry when it comes to pockets.

Shortly after the overdose, Bob decided to tell Jack the story of why he really got put in the Stanley Cup as a baby.  It was Bob’s way of thanking the cup.

“After I won my first cup,” he told Jack, “I realized I’d achieved my dream, and I had married this amazing woman, but something still felt like it was missing.  I wanted to be a father.”  He told Jack how he and Alicia had tried to have a baby, but it just wasn’t happening.  As the months dragged on with more of the same, they started to get worried.  

“And even when you were worrying you’d never truly be happy you managed to win the cup again, yeah?  That’s the moral of the story?” Jack snapped.  Bob shook his head, reached out to run a hand over Jack’s back, like he could smooth down his son’s frayed nerves.  

“Non, non, non, that would be a terrible moral.  Actually my stats were worse that year than when I was a rookie.  But my team was incredible, and we made it to the cup again.  And here’s where the story gets good, you see, because I’d heard all kinds of wild legends through the league about ‘cup magic’ and how sometimes it would grant wishes”

“Or turn you into a fucking penguin,” Jack scoffed.

“Well I was playing for the Canadiens at the time, so I suppose there wasn’t much risk involved, but there was a whole lot of desperate hope.So on my cup day, after everyone else left, I sat down and had a chat with it,” he gestures to the table they’re sitting at.  “Right at this kitchen table.”

“Please tell me that’s the only part of this story that happened at this table,” Jack groaned.  Bob laughed.

This story, yes.”

“Papaaaa,”  Jack picked up his bowl of cereal and pointedly continued eating without letting his food touch the table.

“Oh for God’s sake, Jack, this table has been cleaned many times since, put your food down for a bit, I’m trying to have a moment with you here.”

“Alright, alright, fine.”  Jack obediently set the bowl aside and faced his father.

“As I was saying…” Bob cleared his throat.  “I talked to the cup.  I told it I didn’t care if I ever won it again.  All I wanted was a son.  If it would give me that, I promised, I wouldn’t ask to win so much as a faceoff for the rest of my life.  And I promised that I would love my son - that I would love you - unconditionally, more than anything in the world.”

“And you won a fuckton more awards anyway.”

“But,” Bob countered, “I didn’t win the cup again until after you were born when I was with the Pens.  And so when your mother brought you onto the ice to see me, I wanted us to put you in the cup, but it wasn’t supposed to pass along some kind of hockey magic and ensure the Zimmermann dynasty or whatever the fuck ESPN likes to say, alright?  We did it as a thank you.  We wanted the cup to see what a beautiful baby we had, and to feel how incredibly loved you were.”  Bob ran a hand over Jack’s newly-cropped hair, feeling the strands against his palm, almost as soft as when he used to sit next to Bob in his high chair smashing banana all over the tray.  “I kept my promise too,”  Bob said.  “I love you.  Unconditionally.  More than anything in the world.  And your mother and I just want to help you be happy, whatever that looks like.”  He smiled warmly at his son, letting all the pride he usually kept a lid on to keep from embarrassing Jack bubble up to the surface.  Jack looked down at his hands.

“How can you not be disappointed?  Look at me.”  Jack’s shoulders hunched in, shrinking him down, and Bob pressed his hand between Jack’s shoulder blades, rubbing circles in the way that always used to put him right to sleep as a child.

“I will always be proud of you, hockey or no.  Because you know what?”  Jack chanced a glance up at his father’s face and was held by his earnest expression.  “Winning the Stanley Cup isn’t even in my top hundred favorite memories anymore.  All of my best memories are with you and your mother.”  Jack didn’t say anything in response, and Bob was learning when to give him space to process, so he stood up, bending back down to kiss his son’s forehead as he snagged the now-soggy bowl of raisin bran from in front of him.

It took a few days for Bob to get a real response from Jack, and in the meantime he just left everything to percolate.  And then one night, Bob just couldn’t seem to fall asleep.  His knee wasn’t quite hurting, but it was on that edge where it just didn’t feel settled, and Alicia had been snoring, and at the back of his head he could feel some kind of humming, like he could feel the tense air in Jack’s room.  He’d gotten himself all worked up mulling that last one over until he had to get out of bed.  He stood in front of Jack’s bedroom door, looking at the light peeking out from below the doorjamb for minutes, listening to the sounds of floorboards creaking occasionally, pages rustling, a keyboard clacking.  After he’d gotten enough of the sounds of Jack just existing on the other side of the door to calm his racing heart, he went to the living room.  

He settled into the couch with a box of crackers and a nature documentary when he heard footsteps creaking on the stairs.  At first, he was expecting Alicia coming to call him back to bed, but the footfalls were too loud for her.  Bob tried not to look surprised when Jack rounded the corner, keeping his eyes carefully trained on Animal Planet.  He held up the crackers in greeting.

“Joining your old man for a midnight snack, eh?”

“Oh.  Um, sure.”  Jack padded over to the couch and made himself comfortable next to Bob, pulling down the afghan from the back of the sofa.  They stare at the TV in silence for a long while before Jack speaks up again, quietly.  “Papa?”

“Yes?”

“So…what exactly was better than winning the cup?”

The RFA guys + V + Saeran reacting to MC having a daddy kink

yes hello it’s me, the submissive little shit back at it again with more dominance from our faves (i won’t do baehee in this as i can’t really imagine her having a mommy kink, so she would most likely kink shame you tbh)

((my first headcanon in months and it’s daddy smut, i’m not even sorry))

~jane

Yoosung

  • This boy is a switch, okay
  • It’s basically canon that he is often very submissive, but as soon as he gets jealous he gets super possessive and in my humble opinion dominant
  • Which means rough sex, including pinning you to the closest surface, hickies all over and the occasional spanking if he really needed to teach you a lesson
  • He needed to study for his final exams when Zen invited the RFA to see his newest musical, and therefore couldn’t join you there
  • He did however check his phone while taking a break and saw a selfie of you and Zen all over his feed, with crazy fans shipping the two of you
  • Taken over by jealousy, he had you pinned against the front door almost before you could even close it, attacking your neck with love bites as he muttered how you were only his
  • Seeing this side of your usually shy boyfriend always made you a stuttering mess, and before you had even realized it, you moaned out “daddy”
  • For just a moment he gave you his confused puppy look, before fully realizing what you said and blushed, his eyes darkening with lust
  • “That’s right baby girl, I am your daddy. No one else. Now go to the bedroom and be undressed in two minutes, daddy will make sure you remember that you’re his”
  • can you tell how much of a slut i am for dom!yoosung
  • After you were done he would be a blushing mess, as he didn’t even know he was into that
  • Although he would take control more often, he won’t be your daddy every time - but when he is, he takes very good care of his baby girl


Zen

  • Zen had gotten a role in a musical a few cities away but you were too busy to come with him, so he stayed alone at a hotel for two weeks while doing it
  • Even though the two of you made a point to call each other at least once every day, he missed you when you hung up to take a shower and decided to scroll through tumblr while he waited for you to come back
  • He knew you had a fan account on there and while he didn’t follow you because he didn’t want the spam from all your fandoms on his feed, he did check your account now and then
  • Totally not to see you fangirl over him, pff no
  • He scrolled quickly past the things he didn’t care/know about, a small smile on his face as he found it cute that you were so passionate about everything
  • That is until he saw a reblogged post saying “reblog if zen is is the reason you have a daddy kink - i would kill for him to call me princess and tie me up”
  • Flustered, he accidently dropped his phone on the floor and scrambled to pick it up
  • “Zenny? What happened, did you drop your phone again?”
  • You were obviously back from the shower, and the image of you naked and wet in addition to the idea of you calling him daddy made the beast within him groan with lust
  • “Princess, why are you keeping things like this from me?”
  • “What do you mean? What have I done?”
  • “You haven’t told daddy just how much you like being his little baby girl”
  • “I-I… I’m sorry daddy, I won’t keep things like that from you again”
  • “Hmm… Should I believe you? I think you should send daddy a picture of you to show him how sorry you are. Show me your apologetic look”
  • You tried your best to take a doe eyed selfie that showed how much he made you blush, making sure to show your clevage as well
  • “I don’t really think you’re all that sorry, princess. You should send me more pictures like that”
  • You heard his strict tone become a bit more relaxed as he started breathing heavy, and you hoped he was touching himself
  • You did as he said, trying harder to look innocent and sexy at the same time, and heard him downright moan when he recieved the picture
  • “Baby girl, facetime me now. You need to help daddy with something”
  • With that he hung up, leaving you kind of flustered as he had found out your ultimate kink, before you facetimed him and picked up where you left of


Jumin

  • You were trying to read a book and listen to some music while Jumin did some work in his home office, but Elizabeth kept playing with the cord on your headset
  • “No Elizabeth, stop it! Do I really have to go and tell daddy what a bad girl you are? Leave the cord alone!”
  • As you were listening to music and busy trying to distract the cat, you didn’t notice Jumin standing in the door until he chuckled
  • “Daddy, huh? i prefer that over ‘cat mom’, at least”
  • You blushed when you realized he had heard the nickname you used for him only around Elizabeth, and tried to play it off by lifting her up and talking in a baby voice, pretending to voice her
  • “But daddy, she is no fun! Your little kitten wants attention, and daddy was too busy to play. But I will be a good girl from now, I promise”
  • “Don’t make promises you can’t keep, kitten”
  • Jumin shaked his head in faked annoyance, but as he stepped closer you realized he wasn’t looking at the cat
  • You let go of Elizabeth and she walked away, leaving you alone with Jumin towering over you
  • “Good girls don’t blame others, my love. You’re the one who wanted attention, right? You’re the one who wanted daddy to play with her?”
  • You nodded and blushed more, trying not to show how much his words affected you
  • He caressed your cheek before gripping your chin and lifting your gaze up to meet his, wanting to know if you found this as hot as he did
  • “Let’s go get your favorite toys, then. Daddy will make sure his kitten won’t be bored for the next few hours”


707

  • He had been working for two days straight and you hadn’t even seen him leave the computer, except from the occasional toilet break
  • You were needy and wanted his attention, but he kept telling you off because he “just needed a few more minutes, then he would be done”
  • After a few more hours of this, you’d had enough and just plopped down in his lap, ignoring his furious typing
  • “MC, not now, I’m almost finished”
  • “But daddy, I’m lonely… Can you please play with me?”
  • His typing stopped and you could swear you saw his glasses shine mischievously for a moment
  • “Well… If my little princess is lonely, I guess I have no other choice but to play with her. Too bad you have been such a bad girl today, trying to distract daddy. How should you be punished, baby girl? Maybe some spanks on your cute little ass?”
  • You nodded shamefully, pulled your pants and panties down and repositioned so you were laying on your stomach over his lap, presenting him with your bare ass
  • You could only whimper when he smacked your ass without warning, before rubbing his hand over it soothingly
  • “Such a shame that daddy has to punish his pretty little girl… What do I have to do to make you listen, hm?”
  • He spanked you again and again with no mercy, until you were a whiny mess and tried to squirm free of his tight grip on your hips to save yourself from the bruises you knew would come
  • “Will you behave now, princess?”
  • As soon as he saw you nod, he picked you up bridal style and carried you to bed for your reward for being a good girl
  • fuck me up fam, he would be such a good daddy
  • When you woke up in his arms the morning after, he would already be awake and looking at you with heart eyes until your stomach growled, which would make him laugh
  • “Shut up, I’m hungry!”
  • “Hi hungry, I’m daddy”
  • Yes, he would use this as an excuse to say dad jokes


V

  • All he wanted was to edit a few photos of the two of you he had taken to make a card for your anniversary, but as he couldn’t find his laptop, he decided to borrow yours while you were out with some friends
  • However, as soon as he opened it up, he was greeted by the sound of obnoxious moaning and the sound of skin slapping
  • He quickly shut the computer again and hid his face in his hands, mortified that he stumbled upon the porn you were obviously watching
  • Deciding to respect your privacy, he really did try his best to find his own laptop, but he couldn’t find it anywhere
  • He eventually gave up and realized he had to use yours to get the pictures done, so with a deep breath he opened your laptop again, ready to click the porn away and focus on what he needed to do
  • The sounds started again and he paused the video, but as he waited for the editing program to open, he saw the title of what you were watching
  • “Daddy takes care of his princess..?”
  • Intrigued by the idea of you having a daddy kink he resumed the video, growing harder when he imagined the girl with the baby pink lingerine was you
  • A thought crossed his mind; he had the perfect idea as of what to give you for your anniversary
  • When the morning of the big day came around a few weeks later your blue haired boyfriend was already awake, presenting you with your gift as soon as you muttered a “good morning”
  • You opened the card expecting to find a cute message like he usually wrote on your anniversaries, but you were only met with “Daddy saw something that reminded him of his little girl and couldn’t resist getting you something special. Happy anniversary, my princess”
  • He was too shy to meet your shocked eyes, which only widened more when you opened the gift and saw the pink babydoll dress and vibrator
  • “Was it too much..?”
  • Obviously anxious that he assumed too much, you reassured him by pecking his cheek and resting your hand on his hardening croth, suprised by how much even the idea of being called daddy worked up your supposedly vanilla boyfriend
  • “I love it, daddy! Thank you so much!”
  • He smiled relieved as you changed from your sleepwear to your new set, gaining a boost of confidence when he realized he knew your body well enough to get you the perfect size
  • “You’re such a good girl, princess. Now lay back and let daddy give you your real present”


Saeran

  • “Harder, daddy…”
  • He was woken up by your needy moans and the feeling of your hips moving against his, grinding your ass against his crotch as he was spooning you
  • As he was half asleep he didn’t realize what you had said, the only thing he realized was how hard you’d made him and how badly he wanted you that exact moment
  • After hesitating for a few moments he let his hand travel down your belly before pulling your panties to the side, feeling how you were already soaking wet
  • This earned him another moan from you, which only got louder when he circled your clit with two fingers
  • “Saeran, I need you so badly… Please daddy”
  • Hearing his baby girl beg for him made him ever harder, and he couldn’t resist gently biting your shoulder
  • You woke up with a gasp as he pushed a finger inside of you, giving you some much needed satisfaction
  • “Were you dreaming about daddy’s cock, princess?” he groaned in your ear as he pushed it further in, crooking it to find your sweet spot
  • When your only response was a whimper, he pressed his crotch against your backside, letting you feel him
  • “I asked you a question baby, I expect an answer”
  • You nodded and wiggled your hips, trying to get him to shove another finger into you
  • “Tsk tsk tsk, such an impatient little girl. Daddy will take care of you, don’t you worry your pretty little head with that”
  • With that he rolled you over so he was hovering above you, before kissing his way down to where you needed him the most
  • fuck me up again, another good daddy
Who Did You Call!?

Three nights in a row now Keith was woken up in the middle of the night only to find Lance not in bed besides him.
Normally Keith wouldn’t be too worried about this, just whenever he asked Lance about how he slept all he got was a forced smile and a guilty “fine”.
Keith did trust Lance.
He trusted and loved him more then anyone else on this god forsaken planet.
He never even considered his boyfriend could be cheating on him until Lotor showed up.
Lance had once told Keith before they got together that his dream guy was tall, with long hair and is good looking enough to be a model.
A week ago Lotor had moved into the building.
The amazingly tall man with the body of a Greek god and the flowing white hair of a princess.
The super model that only seemed to own booty shorts and not a single shirt.
The guy that left Lance speechless just by winking at him.
Keith knew he was hot headed and tended to jump to conclusions so he tried talking it through with the most rational person he knew.
His brother Shiro.

“He’s been keeping secrets from me and sneaking around at night. I tried talking to him about it but he just won’t talk to me.” Keith whispered into his phone.
Yet again he had woken up only to find the bed empty where Lance should be.
Not knowing what else to do he called Shiro, despite it being 3am he had answered straight away.
“I don’t know what to tell you Keith.” Shiro yawned “if you think he’s cheating on you then you have to confront him, it’s better to apologise for being wrong then finding out he’s been dating guys behind your back.”
Keith nodded “yeah… first thing in the morning I will.”
“You know it’s probably nothing, I’ve never met a more loyal guy then Lance.”
Keith smiled “yeah your right, thanks Shiro.”
“No problem, night”
Keith hung up and settled back down in his pillows when he hears it.
“Hey it’s Lance again. I’m sorry I called you so late but I… I just needed you so much today.”
Keith turned over so he was face down on the pillow to try and hide the face he was crying.
———————————–

The next morning Keith could hear Lance making breakfast while he was preparing himself for the confrontation.
Right now there was no doubt in Keith’s mind that Lance was cheating on him. He took a deep breath and pushed open the door.

Keith stormed in on his boyfriend “who the hell were you calling last night?!” He demanded.
Lance jumped up when the door was slammed open “n-no one Keith I swear!” He smiled but looked guilty.


“On come on I heard you’ ‘hey it’s Lance again’ didn’t sound like no one!” Keith snapped grabbing Lance by the collar.
Lance didn’t say anything, his eyes darting to his phone laying on the couch. 
Keith dropped him picking it up, keeping his glare fixed on Lance as he redialled.
The phone rang twice before a woman’s voice came from the other side.


“Suicide hotline.”
Keith stared numbly at Lance as tears began to fall down his tanned cheeks. He hung up and tossed the phone aside.
“I… I didn’t want you to worry. I’m sorry I-”
Lance was cut off by Keith running at him and wrapping his arms around Lance like he could keep him there by pure will power.
“Oh God Lance. I’m so sorry I love you I love you so much! I’m sorry I didn’t realise! I’m sorry I thought the worse!” Keith sobbed as Lance wrapped his arms around the shorter man.
The two sank to the floor on their knees hugging and crying with each other.
“I won’t call them again, just please don’t leave me.” Lance muttered burying his face into Keith’s soft hair just taking a moment to breath in his scent.
Keith looked up at him cupping his cheeks with his hand as he kissed him on the nose.
“I will never leave you. So please don’t leave me. If you need to call them then you fucking call them as long as you tell me as well. Because I love you Lance and I can’t live without you.”
Lance sniffed “I love you too.”
———————————–
Of course that didn’t solve everything.
Lance still tried to hide how he really felt at times.
But he had a stable and loving relationship that helped make the bad days not seem so dark.
Keith was his rock and as long as he was there he may just be able to carry on.
For him.

for @portentous-offerings who is my sick buddy today. Feel better my friend ^_^ 

“She’s never going to love me.”

It was so quiet she almost missed it.

“What did you say Kitty?” she asked, her face still pressed into his back from where they were cuddling in her bed.

“Forget it. I shouldn’t have said anything,” he said, rolling over and giving her a cheeky smile that didn’t reach his eyes.

“Are… are you talking about Ladybug?” she asked softly, feeling the knot of guilt that had steadily been building over the last few months of this strange friendship they had fallen into.

He didn’t bring up her alter ego very often. The subject of romance in general always seeming to carry some sort of bizarre taboo whenever he stopped by for his increasingly frequent visits. Not that Marinette had minded. She had Alya to cry to about her lack-luster love life after all, and given how unwaveringly supportive he was about all of her other problems, it seemed silly to hold it against him that he was uncomfortable talking to a girl about crushes and the like.

His eyes flashed guiltily and he rolled back over, staring out into the darkness of the room.

“Really it’s nothing,” he said again, but he couldn’t quite mask the defeated tone that colored his words.

It was a sound she was all too used to. The same defeated cadence that had echoed from her own lips after her disastrous attempt at confessing to Adrien 5 months and 27 days earlier that no amount of Rom-coms or Alya suggested poster-burning had been able to cure.

“Chat, it isn’t nothing,” she said, sitting up and gently trying to pull him back around. He didn’t budge, still keeping his gaze obstinately fixed at something that she couldn’t see. “If it matters to you… it isn’t nothing. Not to me.”

“It’s not appropriate,” he said softly, “and it’s not fair to you.”

“Shouldn’t I get to be the judge of that?”

“It would be selfish-“

“So be selfish!” she said with a slightly forced laugh. “Trust me, you have a long way to go before you catch up to my level of selfish so I am hardly one to judge.” She teased her fingers through his hair, letting her nails scratch delicately against his scalp and felt him relax in spite of himself.

“Yeah right,” he scoffed lightly, “your strange phone kleptomania aside, you’re a pretty stand-up person.”

“Hey, I will have you know I have been working very hard to reform my phone-napping ways,” she teased, hoping to draw out a real smile from him.

“You stole Alya’s phone just last week!”

“That was a special circumstance. I told you so,” she pouted. “Besides, Adrien doesn’t deserve to be taunted like that no matter what Alya might say about it,” she added softly.  

She felt Chat stiffen slightly, his cat ear twitching at her words, and she was once again suspicious that he knew all about her romantic trouble regardless of their lack of conversation on the subject. She flushed at the thought.

“You are one of the most selfless people I know,” he said, reaching up to grasp her hand in his own and give it a brief reassuring squeeze.

The guilt Marinette was feeling was almost overpowering as the thought of the secrets she was keeping from him weighed on her like a stone. He had never questioned how they had fallen into such an easy friendship, and she had become too attached to having him as a part of her life- her normal everyday life- to be willing to admit the one-sidedness of it all. Here she was getting mopey over someone she had sworn she was done chasing after in front of a guy whose heart she routinely seemed to trample into the dust. Talk about selfish.  

“Please just tell me,” she whispered, her fingers resuming their seductive strokes that she knew full well would reduce him to a compliant puddle in her lap.

He was silent for a few more moments before finally letting out a small defeated sigh.

“I was just thinking about everything and I guess I just…” he hesitated. “She’ll never love me. I know that. I think on some level I always suspected as much.”

His voice wasn’t bitter or angry, and that calm resignation shattered her own heart into a million pieces more than the actual words he was saying.

“I think,” he continued, “I think I will be ok with it. She loves someone else. She doesn’t really say much about it, maybe to preserve our identities or maybe because she doesn’t want to hurt my feelings, but every once in a while she lets something slip and it’s not that hard to put the pieces together. I always thought it was so cheesy in the movies when people would say things like I just want her to be happy, but I think I get it now. She’s incredible and I am always going to love her, but she doesn’t need me to make her happy.”

Marinette could feel the tears pooling behind her eyes as the words poured out of him in his soft, even tone. Her fingers were frozen, buried in his lush golden hair, her breaths turning shallow and frantic as the words reverberated through her like an electric current.

She stared down at the boy beside her. Her precious, irreplaceable kitten, who loved her so fiercely and believed in her so much. Who was willing to call her out for her faults and yet somehow still believed her capable of rising above them.

“She’s smart,” Chat continued, his voice seeming to echo in the near silence of the night, “and I know that whoever she does choose is going to be someone who can make her happy. Somebody good and funny and able to keep up with her when she is at her best and keep her grounded when she’s at her worst. So I think I can be ok with that.”

She tried to imagine what her future would be with some potential lover. Her heart lurched slightly at the thought of Adrien, her own love that was apparently not to be. She brushed that thought aside and instead tried to picture a world where she was curled up beside some new face, running her fingers through hair that wasn’t blonde.

She had to choke back a sob.

The slight twinge of pain she had felt at the momentary reminder that she and Adrien would never be more than friends was nothing to the soul rendering terror she felt at the sudden realization that finding a new love would inevitably mean losing Chat.

They would still be friends. Of course, it wouldn’t be the same. It wouldn’t be like this. He would never impose like that. Not her Chat. Her partner who was good, and funny, and who had seen her at her best and her worst, who knew her better than anyone, and who still had never made her feel anything less than precious. Her dearest friend who just the momentary thought of a life without him made her feel like she was dying.

Chat let out a small self-deprecating laugh and Marinette wondered how she had ever been so blind.

“So yeah,” he said finally twisting back around to look up at her, “I think I’ll be ok. Even if she doesn’t love me.”

She gazed down at him, his brilliant green eyes glowing in the near darkness of the night, a tired smile on his face that she longed to see transformed into his usual infectious grin, as the truth hit her like a bolt of lightning.

“I do,” she said breathlessly, before leaning down to capture his lips in a long overdue kiss.

Romance, Representation And You

So the last post I reblogged got some interesting comments I want to touch on, namely people stating that they don’t dislike Romance because it’s fluffy and feel good, but because it is often sexist, misogynistic, ableist, heteronormative and woefully lacking in diversity, which yes, absolutely, yes. Those are entirely valid criticisms of the genre—indeed I find them to be valid of any genre, whether it’s sci-fi, fantasy, young adult or otherwise. There is a shocking lack of diversity in our fiction and media—and not because people don’t want it or aren’t trying to make it, but because publishing houses and media can’t see the co-relation between what their marketing teams are telling them, and the actual reality that of course straight white stories are selling the best, of course it is, because you won’t sell anything else, that’s why there’s no sales numbers for anything else.

I worked in a romance publishing house for a good few years, I also worked for their erotica team, and do you know, not once did I ever come across a manuscript with a disabled person? Not a single one. There was also never a manuscript that featured a character with mental illness who wasn’t the villain, or whose issues couldn’t be Fixed With Love™(*vomit*). 

The few times a story featured non white characters, it was usually “The Best Friend Who Gives Sassy Real Advice”, or so horrifically racist that our modus operandi was to nuke it from the office servers rather than try and deal with it because how do you politely tell an author, hey, you’re a fetishistic piece of shit please find God and change the entirety of your story so we can print it, (Answer: you don’t there is no polite way to tell someone they are a  fetishistic piece of shit and you never want their work to darken your inbox ever again.) when you can instead say “Sorry, not what we’re looking for a the moment” and retreat to the relative safety of the slushpile where maybe, just maybe, a hidden gem awaits excavation.

And our publishing house prided itself on diversity because we had an LGBT section, and oh boy let me tell you I was so excited when I got moved over onto that side…only to realize, there’s no w/w fiction because “it doesn’t sell well” and 90% of the m/m fiction is being written by women for women and they fired the one gay author cause his work wasn’t “what was selling” and every bisexual character I ever encountered was either Actually Gay/Actually Straight, or surprise! The Evil Greedy Homewrecker who needs to pick a side, booo hiiiiss, grab your pitchforks and burn the witch.

And I remember, I remember looking to my senior editor who was also my friend at the time, a poly bisexual, mentally ill woman and saying “what the fuck Rebecca” (yes, her name was actually Becky) and she looked at me over our skype call and said “You want to keep your job? Deal with it.”

Because you see, Marketing reigns supreme, and Marketing doesn’t give a shit about people like you and me. It doesn’t care if the neurodivergent person wants to see people like them in fiction, it doesn’t care that people of color want to be more than just the friend/villain, they don’t care that there is more to LGBTQIA+ than the L and specifically the G, it doesn’t care if disabled people want to be represented as more than someone ele’s story arc prop. They don’t care they, don’t care, and do you know why so many publishing houses look down on indie publishing and self published authors and try to call them hacks? Because we don’t give a fuck that they don’t care and we’re doing what we want anyway.

Oh sure you get the usual “but the work is so unpolished, no one has vetted it, it’s just bad, this is why we need publishers to stop the crap from rising to the top”—and yet Fifty Shades of Grey still gets a multi-billion dollar production budget and to the top of the best seller list—do you see, where I am going with this? They’re not interested in selling the best they are just interested in selling, and we are living in a society that has a system designed specifically to a quite literally straight and narrow demographic. So of course XYZ stories sell well, of course they do, because that is where the vast majority of marketing goes, to make sure you buy into it. And Romance…Romance is a lucrative industry to be in if you can get the weight of that campaign behind you…but if you can’t? Well, not only do you have to compete with lack of funding and resources, but also the pervasive lie that because you’re not affiliated directly with X Publishing House or Y Agency, you are not good enough, and no one will want to read your story.

And that’s a bunch of baloney. It’s so much baloney you can slap it between two slices of bread and cover it in mustard because the whole thing is a ham.

Do you know what I would have loved growing up? (And still would) Stories about girls who liked people regardless of gender—and who wasn’t conflicted over it because people are people and gender is fluid and irrelevant to love. Stories about people with mental health issues, where the person is still loved and shown as functional, with their mental health issues, not despite. Stories about disabled and ill people who have fulfilling lives whose arc doesn’t revolve around being brave for simply existing or how much of a saint their families/loved ones are for putting up with them. And do you know what I get instead, even now as an adult who has worked in the industry that sells these stories? I get things like Fifty Shades of Domestic Abuse, and train wrecks like You Before Me where the death of the disabled person is seen as a romantic gesture of selflessness that sets the love interest free to fully live her life. HOW FUCKING FUCKED UP IS THAT. Oh you can argue with me all you want that wasn’t  Moyes intent when she was writing it, but it damn well was the end result.

Yes, Romance is lacking, and yes it needs revamped, it needs more cultural diversity, it needs more inclusion, it needs so many things—but it also needs for people to not want to not write for it because it’s “fluffy” and cheap, like somehow they are selling their souls away. 

I’ve got friends who have written amazing, diverse stories told from their point of view…but they won’t ever get them published because as soon as you mention self publishing or the Romance industry they turn their noses up. And they’re shooting themselves in the foot in doing so, because there ain’t no way a story about XYZ is going to make it in a sci-fi house, no matter who much tech you add in. On the flipside of that, I’ve also got a friend who has written about her experiences as a Black queer disabled woman and it’s filled with relationships and great life stuff and so funny…but she can’t get it published anywhere because she’s been explicitly made to feel like she doesn’t belong in the genre because her stories are too complex, they’re too different they’re too comedic…too…too…too (the list goes on). And that’s awful because Romance is a genre that is primarily about people and if you as a Romance house are telling me you can’t sell a story about people, boy are we well and truly fucked.

The biggest criticism of the Romance genre shouldn’t be that it’s too damn happy and therefore unrealistic and nothing but fluff. What’s unrealistic is the complete lack of diversity and inclusion in the genre that makes it so alienating that a huge part of our society immediately feels like they don’t belong. 

And that’s a bigger problem than fluff.

So great, yes fine, Romance isn’t for you, you can tell me all the time that you don’t like Romance and I will cheerfully talk to you about literally anything else. But don’t ever tell me you don’t like Romance because it’s simple and fluffy when there’s a whole wealth of actual problematic shit to dislike it for.

And to you, yes you, I’m talking to you. You with the idea in the back of your head and the worry that you’ll never be a Serious Author because all you want to write about is romance and people and angst and fluff and also thinking no one wants to read stories about people like you: take that idea and run with with it, learn from your experiences and keep doing it some more and maybe one day we’ll have the publishing industry we deserve that will acknowledge you. But until then: Rebel and Do It Anyway.

CHANBAEK IS MORE REAL THAN MY EXISTENCE

THIS REALLY HAPPENED AND PLEASE DO NOT TELL ME ANYMORE THAT THESE TWO ARE NOT REAL

IF “THE LOOK” WASN’T MUCH TO GO BY THEN THIS DEFINITELY WAS THE DEATH OF ME

CHANYEOL NOTICED AND WAS IMMEDIATELY READY TO KISS BACK BUT BAEKHYUN WAS NOT LOOKING SO HE LEGIT *WAITED* LIKE THE GENTLEMAN HE IS FOR BAEKHYUN TO LOOK BACK AND WHEN HE DID….

ASDFGHJKL /DOUBLE DEATH/

Bonus: 

Firelight Fandom President for ya’ll 

Now I know guys, you all have had your moments of doubt. Sometimes this couple seems married and sometimes they look like total strangers but trust me the first option is the one to go by till your last breath after you have seen this post.

Please support them! Love them! I know it might be hard specially if Chanyeol or Baekhyun is your bias and you might have wanted to save them for yourselves but you wouldn’t want to be in their shoes and hide yourselves in several ways for years just because you’re afraid it might end your career or your life and might hurt the people you love.

If your love for them is real, if it’s true, you will love them regardless. Unconditionally.

I hope you do!

P.S. all of this was extremely hard to put together so if you’re going to use the gifs somewhere please mention this account in your credits. Thankyou. ❤
BTS Reaction | Kissing another member

Request; the bts member your dating seeing you kissing another member

Kim Namjoon

Namjoon would be more disappointed with you than he was angry, he wouldn’t understand why you would kiss Jin when the two of you had been so happy in your relationship.

“Why did you kiss Jin? I thought were were happy Y/N…”

Kim Seokjin

Jin would blame himself when he saw you kiss Namjoon. He’d think back to all the times he was unable to be there and support you because of work, thinking that he wasn’t a good enough boyfriend and that he didn’t deserve you.

“Y/N, I know you kissed nNamjoon” “You don’t have to explain, I know I’m not good enough for you”

Min Yoongi

Yoongi would be glaring at you from the door way, tears rolling down his face, when you noticed him he’d just continue to stare at you in disbelief, his eyes full of hurt and anger.

“Really Y/N?” “You were always so worried i’d cheat when I was away on tour when I never even looked at another girl, and hear you are kissing my bandmate, Jung Hoseok of all people"

Jung Hoseok

Hoseok would be more upset than angry, walking away from the studio when he saw you and Yoongi kissing. He always knew you had a soft spot for Yoongi but he never knew you’d do that to him, when he calmed down he’d confront you about it later.

“I saw you kiss Yoongi in the studio, did it mean anything?” Are you breaking up with me for him?” 

Park Jimin

Jimin wouldn’t quite believe what he saw, he’d wait till later to ask you about it and would probably end up crying, knowing deep down what he saw was real but he still had some hope that it was just his imaginitation.

“You wasn’t kissing Taehyung earlier, right?” “Please tell me I was just imagining things”

Kim Taehyung

Taehyung would have a hard time bringing himself to even look at you after he caught you kissing Jimin, he thought he could trust you but the moment he saw you two together, any ounce of trust he had for you was gone.

“Why did you do it Y/N?” “Am I not enough, did I do something wrong?”

Jeon Jungkook

Jungkook would storm off the moment he saw you and Taehyung kissing, he wouldn’tbe able to hold back his tears, sobbing loudly . He’d end up blaming himself thinking he wasn’t good enough for you and that’s why you kissed someone else.

“It’s my fault, don’t apologise” “I’m not there for you enough, I’m sorry I should have been, it’s all my fault but please let me be a better boyfriend, don’t leave me”

Systems Of Touch

Author: @eradikeats-writes as part of Bangtan University - a series of ongoing oneshots with @kpopfanfictrash

Creative Content Contributors: @daegusoftboys (with beautiful, beautiful moodboards for the series)

Pairing: Hoseok x Reader (oc; female)

Rating: NC-17

Warnings: explicit sex; explicit language

Word Count: 9,746

ONE YEAR AGO

The conference was mandatory, a thing required for your degree and begrudgingly attended by all of your classmates. But you, however, found it to be a welcome reprieve from studying, exams, and your standard reclusive Friday night routine. You were awkward in your black cocktail dress, standing off to the side and nursing your champagne with slow, careful sips you hoped emulated elegance. People of importance moved around the room, intellectual conversations filtering through the air as you glanced from person to person; prayed that, as their wandering eyes found your lonely frame, even if for the briefest of moments, that they did not see you as an imposter.

Keep reading

A Different Fight

Request: Can I request a peter parker x reader where the reader has gotten into a fight with peter and peter gets a little rough with the reader (like pins reader into the wall very hard and he punches into the wall) and you can take it from there!

Warnings: HECKIN ANGSTY, it gets a tiny bit physical but it by no means shows or romanticizes abuse !! that’s not coolio !!

Pairing: Reader x Peter Parker

Genre: ANGST

Word Count: 1.5k (sorry this one ended up being a bit shorter haha)

Update: I’m so surprised at how many positive reactions this got! You guys are the best :D

Part II can be found here 


To say you had a bad day was the understatement of the century. To start off with, there was an Algebra 2 test that you were totally unprepared for and you had left about half of the questions on it blank, which definitely wouldn’t end up getting you a good grade. At lunch you went to buy some pizza only to find out that you forgot to turn in your food service money and had none left in your account, leaving you very hungry and irritated. Your locker got stuck making you late to 5th period, the water fountain was broken and sprayed all over you, and you got stuck with a burnout for a lab partner. A lot of little things started to add up and by the end of the day you were dangerously close to absolutely losing it. If anyone did anything more to bother you, it was going to send you over the edge. It just so happened that the poor soul was Peter Parker, your best friend who you had a slight crush on for a while.

Peter had told you he would come by your place to work on some homework and just hang out after school. You were really looking forward to it since he was super busy and you couldn’t see each other as often as you would have liked. You waited patiently for a few hours before settling on the fact that he had stood you up. At that point you were completely pissed off. You grabbed your phone only to see new texts from your friends. Apparently there was a party at some senior girl’s house and a lot of people were there including, to your surprise, Peter. You were more than a little hurt. It wouldn’t have been a big deal if he had just cancelled but the fact that he blew you off completely really stung.

About an hour passed before you heard a knock at your door. You answered it, finding Peter standing there with an apologetic smile on his face. Any other day you would have melted at the mere sight of him grinning like that, but today wasn’t like any normal day.

“What?” you asked brusquely. Your hands moved to your hips and you stared at him expectantly. You didn’t really know what excuse you wanted to hear, but practically all of them would have been the wrong answer.

“I came to hang out with you!” he said and pushed past you, making himself at home. “Sorry I couldn’t come sooner, I had to take care of some stuff relating to you-know-what.” You rolled your eyes. Peter told you about being Spider-Man a few months back, which explained how busy he was, but this time that wasn’t going to cut it. You had seen the pictures from the party and there was absolutely no way it involved him like that.

“Right,” you said sarcastically. “I’m sure every party needs Spider-Man there to make sure things don’t get out of control. Tell me, does Liz Allan have a thing for spandex? Is that why you ditched me?” Peter’s eyebrows shot up, surprised by your dark tone. He had never seen you mad before and it both concerned and confused him. At the same time, bringing up Liz was a hit below the belt.

“E-excuse me?” he stammered, his smile fading. “What does she have to do with this? Look, I’m really sorry I’m late but at least I’m here now so can you just let it go?”

“No, I can’t,” you said defiantly. “Don’t try to change the subject. I saw the pictures of you at that party, you can’t deny it.”

“So I’m not allowed to go to parties now?” he asked, his anger rising as well. “What gives, Y/N. Are you jealous of Liz or something? Is that what this is about?”

“I would never be jealous of her,” you snorted. “You’re trying to turn this on me, but it’s not my fault. You think you’re so high and mighty just because you swing around all over Queens in tights every night. ‘Look at me, I’m Peter and I shoot nasty ass spider juice all over the place. Tony Stark loves me and so does Liz Allan”. Seriously, it’s ridiculous.“ Your voice got louder and louder as you went, your emotions getting the best of you. Peter’s eyes dropped to the floor and he balled his hands into fists. You regretted yelling at him like that, but you refused to back down. All of the anger that had built up inside you was finally coming out, and you couldn’t stop it now.

“First of all,” he said fiercely, “I don’t wear spandex and I definitely don’t wear tights. Second, I don’t think I’m better than anyone else. I’ve never said anything like that in my life. I don’t know what your beef is tonight but if you don’t want me here then I’ll just leave.”

“Leave and go where?” you spat. “Back to Liz’s house? Fine, see if I care. I didn’t know Spider-Man was a party trick now, but it’s cool. I’m sure everyone is dying to see you crawl around on the ceiling. Maybe shoot some webs, lay some eggs? Personally, spiders have always grossed me out, but if that’s what the senior chicks are into-” Suddenly Peter slammed one of his hands onto the wall next to you, using the other to pin you back, and you were so startled that your voice caught in your throat. His chest was rising and falling, the veins in his arms and neck noticeably present.

“Stop. Talking. About. Liz.” Peter enunciated every word carefully, his eyes locked on yours. A shiver ran down your spine. This was a different Peter than your dorky and awkward best friend. He was intimidating and tough, and all of his anger was aimed right at you. Never in your life did you ever think you’d see him like this, and it scared you. You knew what he was capable of, and you wouldn’t have been surprised if he had punched a hole in the wall. His arm was pressing into your chest and it hurt. It wasn’t like you couldn’t breathe, but it was still painful and uncomfortable. You were so shocked by it, especially since Peter never touched you without asking first, even just to link arms or something. His gentle demeanor had vanished completely, and that’s when you figured out that you had really messed up.

“Get off of me,” you said hoarsely. “Get off of me right now.” Peter blinked, only just realizing what he had done. His grip loosened and he took a step back, his eyes wide and full of panic. Neither of you really knew what to do next.

“O-Oh god, I’m so sorry,” he said quietly. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to… I never meant to do that. I’d never hurt you, I didn’t want to hurt you-”

“Peter, I think you should go,” you said, tears pricking the corners of your eyes. Your breathing was uneven and shaky, and he noticed it right away.

“Y/N, I didn’t… I didn’t hurt you, did I?” he asked, almost pleading with you. He took a step toward you and you instinctively backed away. The look of pain on his face made you feel like you had kicked him in the stomach. By then you didn’t even care that there were tears were streaming down your face. You couldn’t think straight, your mind was whirling and you could hear your heart pounding.

“Peter, you need to leave,” you choked out again. He nodded slowly, processing things but still not moving.

“Are you okay?” he asked in a voice just above a whisper. “Please, just… Just tell me I didn’t hurt you at all. I swear I’ll leave right after…” You wiped your eyes and shook your head. You heard his breathing stop for a moment before he took another step backwards. He was crying too and looked absolutely broken. It was all your fault. All of this. If you hadn’t been so grumpy and jealous in the first place none of it would have happened. You told yourself over and over that you needed to apologize, you needed to tell Peter that you were alright and that it wasn’t his fault. For some reason you just couldn’t bring yourself to do it, so you stood there in silence crying as he slowly made his way out the door and out of your house.

The second the door closed behind him you collapsed onto the ground. Your sobs echoed off the walls of the empty room. There was no anger left inside of you, only regret and sadness. You didn’t mean any of the things you had said, you weren’t in your right state of mind, but that didn’t change the fact that you still said them.

Your chest ached, not because Peter had hurt you, but instead because your heart was broken.


Tags~ @nevaehsuga (thank you for the request love!! i hope you liked it!!) @nedslaptop (I don’t really have a tag list yet but i thought I’d add you as long as I was doing it since you asked a while back xx)

If you wanna be tagged in my dumb writing in the future let me know and I’ll make sure to add you!!

“Don’t Touch Her” [Jason Todd x Reader]

Requested by anon: “Jason x reader where the boyfriend of the reader’s BFF hits the reader for defending her friend (they’re in an abusive relation) and Jason finds out about it”

A/N: This is a really good idea. We’re gonna get some pissed Jason in here.

Warning: Abuse, mentions of sex, Swearing

[Bff/N] - Best Friend Name [H/Bf/N] - Her Boyfriend’s Name

_____

You were out this fine after noon with your best friend. It was just a simple lunch date you both scheduled. But the moment you saw her, your stomach turned.

She had a black eye and a bruise on her wrist like someone grabbed her there. You knew that bastard [H/Bf/N] was hitting her but she wouldn’t admit it. Jason often heard you ranting about the asshole.

You stood up and strode over to her. Taking her wrist gently in your hands and looked at the black eye. “Did that bastard do this?” you asked softly. She stayed silent, “[Bff/N] please tell me the truth” sitting down at the table as she sat across from you.

“H-he promised not to do it again.” She whispered. You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. “[Bff/N] he said that the last time too didn’t he?”

She just nodded. “Please you can’t stay there. You can stay with Jason and I until you get on your feet. But you can’t stay there” you pleaded in fear for your friend.

“No I couldn’t impede on you guys. I know you and Jason need your couple time.” she shook her head vigorously. You chuckled, “Trust me, we live together, we get plenty of couple time” a teasing tone in your voice.

“I can’t leave him.” She murmured, “Can we just not talk about this now?”

You sighed, “Fine, but we’re not done here”


You spent the rest of the lunch just talking about life and random events. She especially liked asking about you and Jason. She always found you guys to be a perfect couple, but you knew that she hasn’t seen you two butting heads.

It was a nice lunch until her phone rang.

“Hey [H/Bf/N]” she answered shyly

“Where the hell are you?!” you heard his yelling from where you were sitting.

“I’m just getting lunch”

“Well get home now you should’ve told me first”

He hung up the phone after that. You felt your blood boiling. That asshole had the nerve to call, yell at her, then hang up on her.

“I have to go” she spoke, her voice was fragile like it would shatter if she spoke any louder.

“I’m walking you home” you insisted. “N-no [F/n], I-its —”

“No arguments, I’m walking with you” standing up and picking up your jacket.

She gave in and the both of you payed before exiting the small cafe. You were going to give that piece of shit a piece of your mind.


She unlocked her door when you got to her apartment. Immediately upon opening the door he was storming toward her but stopped when he saw you.

“What the hell are you doing here?” he spat. “A pleasure as always asshat” you gave him a unamused grin.

“What’d you call me?” he stalked toward you. “I think you heard me just fine by the amount of smoke coming out of your ears” you mused.

“You bitch” his face was red with anger. You knew you were poking the bear here but you had to get a point across.

“Me a bitch? If you ask me only a cowardly bitch would hit his girlfriend. What was wrong this time, couldn’t get it up?” you stepped up and got in his face.

Before you could react he had risen his fist and connected it to your jaw. You stumbled back, hand gripping your jaw. [Bff/N] ran over to make sure you were alright. He brushed by the both of you, “I need a drink” and out the door.

“Are you alright [F/n]?” she asked concerned.

“Yeah. Yeah I’m fine” you stood up feeling a bit of blood on your jaw. ‘Shit Jason will kill him’ you thought.

You went into her bathroom and cleaned up the blood. She brought you a bandaid and first aid kit. After taking care of the injury, she spoke up.

“I think that you should go, he will only be angrier if you’re here when he gets back.” she instructed. You nodded before heading to the door.

The walk home your jaw hurt like hell and you had to think of a way so that Jason wouldn’t up and shoot the bastard. Long story short you walked slow to gain more time.



Putting your key in the door, before pushing it open you took a deep breath. Mentally preparing yourself for the bombardment of questions you were just about to receive.

Pushing it open you walked inside. Hanging up your coat and setting your bag on the table next to the door. Making your way to the bathroom.

Looking in the mirror you examined the forming bruise. Peeling off the bandaid and cleaning it up with rag.

“I thought I heard you come home” hearing a familiar voice. You looked at Jason and his grin dropped.

He strode over lifting your chin up with his finger, “What happened?” concern was laced in his voice, as his expression mirrored it.

“It’s nothing, just got mugged” you shrugged before turning back to the mirror.

“Mugged, during the day. You and I both know that’s not what happened.” He crossed his arms. Why did he have to be so damn intuitive?

“Come on cough it up.” He waved to you.

You sighed knowing lying would be no use. “It was [H/Bf/N]. I stood up to him and he slugged me” keeping your eyes from his.

“The son of a bitch did what?” He growled. His eyes darkened and his demeanor changed to vigilante rather than boyfriend.

“Jason please don’t, you know, murder him” you followed as he walked out of the bathroom. You knew where he was going, straight to his gun safe.

“Jason” you stopped him as he turned around. He looked at you, he was pissed off.

“I’m not going to let the bastard get away with it”

“I know and we shouldn’t but I think the police might be the best way to go on this one. Maybe we can make it so she won’t lose the apartment or anything. I have a friend in the police force, let me reach out” you persuaded, slowly removing the firearm from his grasp.

His tense body relaxed. Setting the gun back into the safe and turning back to face him.

He examined your face, gently brushing his thumb over the bruise. Then leaned and rested his forehead to yours. “You know I’d never hit you like that right? I know I have a temper but I’d never take it out on you”

“I know Jay. I know” brushing your nose against his.


You and Jason headed over to see [Bff/N] to try and convince her to talk to the police. She had told you he was out so the both of you left that minute. It didn’t take long to get there.

“Hey, how are you feeling?“ you questioned as the both of you walked into her apartment.

“I’m fine, what’re you guys doing here? Is something the matter?”

“Yeah, something is. We’re not letting you live like this anymore. I’m begging you, will you please talk to a police officer. I’ve reached out and a friend of mine is more than willing to talk with you” you begged as she began to think.

Though you all heard the door open, “I’m back.” You flinched slightly at the voice. Jason wrapped your hand in his when he noticed your flinch.

“Who the hell are you?” he questioned upon seeing Jason.

“I’m [F/n]’s boyfriend” Jason answered simply. He laughed, “Sorry for you man”

“Excuse me?” Jason stepped toward him. You kept a grip on his hand, keeping him from getting too far.

“She’s got a mouth on her that one, but I bet you keep it busy with other things huh?” He chuckled.

Okay, yeah… he’s a dead man.

Letting go of your hand he punched [H/Bf/N] right to the jaw” He fell to the floor within the instant.

“Agh, shit” he groaned, getting to his hands. When he stood up Jason pinned him to the wall, “Don’t ever tough her again. You do and you’ll be leaving in a body bag”

The two did not know how serious he actually was. You put a hand on his shoulder, “Bastards not worth it Jay”

At that he let him go before punching him again, knocking him out. “[Bff/N] how about you go grab somethings, you’re welcome to stay with [F/n] and I for awhile. Until you’ll be safe from this douche.”

She nodded and quickly ran into her bedroom. Grabbing some clothes and necessities.

Turning to him, you wrapped your arms around his waist and laid your head on his chest. “That was hot”

You felt his chuckle vibrate in his chest, leading to a smile to grow on your features. “I’m always hot” he teased, making you punch his arm lightly.


You ended up taking [Bff/n] back to your place and convinced her to talk to the police. [H/Bf/N] was soon arrested and received a guilty verdict for assault.

She moved back into her old apartment, you and Jason gave her a hand with getting rid of [H/Bf/N]’s things. She thanked you for everything before you returned home.

Both collapsing on the couch you nestled into him. “Who would’ve thought, Jason Todd’s a hero during the day and night”

He chuckled, “I think you deserve the credit for helping her”

“Yeah but you knocked him out”

He smiled down at you. Before softly kissing your forehead, eliciting giggles from you.

“You’ll always be my hero though” saying it into his chest. Muffled by his shirt.

A smile grew on his face has he wrapped his arms around you tighter. How could anyone ever say they love someone and end up hitting them? He would never dream of hitting you. He just loves you too much.

maybe i’m asking for too much but if “it devours” also manages to tell us how carlos fell in love with cecil from his own point of view i will literally leave this plane of existence and subsequently reach nirvana

Frat Boy Pt. 9

part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6,  part 7 (1), part 7 (2), part 8

IT’S BEEN TOO LONG FRATTY FRIENDS! Literally - Six. Months. Or longer. Here’s the RECAP if you need to catch up on your infuriating frat boy shenanigans in a fun and easy fashion! It’s been a while, and we’re learning about Harry now… be fragile with him. As always, please tell me your thoughts after reading! It takes a moment but when I feel people are involved in this project it motivates me to continue with it. Anyways, I’ve already kept you waiting long enough…Thank you for sticking with us. ENJOY! xx

18 Morning View Drive

Coast Hills, CA

Then, exactly an hour and thirty minutes later:

7 pm.

Those were the only things Harry had texted you. Just the address.

“I don’t even know if I want to go anymore,” you whined, looking at your phone once more before tossing it on the bed. “He clearly hates me and doesn’t want me to go.”

“I thought you told me he said you could though!”

“Only because it sounded like he had to! His sister was practically forcing the words out of him.”

Renny cringed. “Sister…Yeah I’m sorry, I’m still not over it.” You groaned at the reminder and she sighed in response. “Okay listen, just be yourself! Try not to hate him.” You felt your eyebrows rise higher than hairline.

“And this is coming from a girl who loathes him more than her entire being?”

She rolled her eyes. “I just think he’s an entitled asshole, but you clearly don’t otherwise you wouldn’t be going to the dinner. Now, nude pump or suede bootie?” She held up the two shoes she was gracious enough to let you borrow and you bit the inside of your cheek. You did think he was an entitled asshole, but… you were curious. So undeniably curious and how many girls could say they went over to a family dinner at the Styles’ house? Not that that was your primary reason for going but…

“Uh, Y/N?” she prompted.

“Bootie,” you said quickly, snapping yourself out of further self-analysis.  You weren’t sure if you liked the boy, but you were definitely… interested. Renny went to the closet and came back with two dresses.

You shook your head.

“What do you mean?”

“They’re a little…fancy.” You bit your tongue, not allowing ridiculous to form. You shook your head.

“Yeah it’s a family dinner. Jeans will be fine,” you reasoned. You plucked your favorite denim from the drawers and Renny gasped as if you’d smacked her across the face. “And a t-shirt,” you added with a smirk. She gasped louder and clutched her chest.

“No no no no no. No!” She raised her finger to you, stalking to the closet again, the cocktail dresses abandoned to the floor. “If you’re wearing these booties you’re at least wearing a blouse. God, who are you?” She plucked a peachy top and a blazer from the inside of the closet, but you snatched the blazer from her hands and put it back on the hanger, opting for the cream sweater instead.

“I want to be comfortable, not looking like I’m going to a business meeting ya dingas.” She snorted at the term and you pulled her in for a hug, clinging to her for a moment. She always seemed so soft and you weren’t sure if it was the Victoria’s Secret body lotion she used or if she was just blessed with naturally smooth skin.

“Renny?” you mumbled against her chest, arms still securely wrapped around her.

“Yeah?”

Your mind raced with hundreds of questions. What were you doing? Was this absolutely stupid? How do you know if you like someone?

“Your boobs are comfy,” you finally sighed. You knew she couldn’t possibly give you explanations for any single one of those things. She wasn’t exactly a love guru, but she was entirely the best at texting and the art of flirting.

“Thanks. Niall thinks so too.” You squeezed her tighter before it registered what she’d said. “Gross,” you mumbled, letting go with a laugh.  You only let her put the bare minimum makeup on you and she was just finishing up with a coat of mascara when there was a knock on the door. She stopped.

“I thought you said he wasn’t going to pick you up.”

You shook your head. “He isn’t. I’m driving.” Renny paused, listening, as if she’d be able to hear what was going on just beyond the door. The mascara wand was set on the bathroom countertop and she crept to the door. You weren’t under any illusions that he would swing by your place beforehand so you weren’t going to bother wasting precious energy on “what-if”s, though your heart still picked up its pace in expectation. The door creaked open at the last swish of the mascara wand.

“Niall?”

Expectations you didn’t want in the first place fell when you heard her voice raise in pitch. Of course it wasn’t Harry.

“What’re you doing here?”

“Thought I’d stop by.” His satisfaction at having surprising her was evident in his smug tone and you tip-toed out, not having had a proper one-on-one with Niall since the night of the party.

“You alone?” he whispered to her.

You saw Renny shake her head before you took a step out. A bit of guilt hit you thinking about the spontaneous kiss, but it was so long ago. I mean, you were going to Harry’s house tonight and Niall just came for some one-on-one time with Renny. At this point the kiss just seemed…a bit irrelevant. Renny faced you as if to gesture “see! Not alone” and his blue eyes focused on you as if nothing had changed. But then they did.

“Oh, hey Y/N, what’re you doing here?” he shrugged and shifted his weight. Renny was oblivious to the awkward shift.

“Um, I live here?” you crossed your arms, brows furrowing a bit.

He thought it over but for a second before he shook his head, lips quirking up in their innocent schoolboyish charm. “Right. Must be tired or somethin’.”

“Or somethin’” Renny teased. Niall poked her sides and she twisted out of reach, only leaning back again to smack him playfully across the chest.

“Alright love birds, I’m headed out. I’ll see you later.”

“Bye then,” Niall said, arm already sneaking around Renny’s waist. She mouthed an “OMG” to you at his display of affection while you tried not to vom. But when the door closed shut you couldn’t help but think about how natural it seemed for his arm to wrap around her waist.

—–

“OH GEE, THANKS for putting on your BLINKER - not. ASSHOLE!” you shouted, almost wishing your window was down and that the pompous senior citizen wearing ray bans at night could hear you. Since you were a decent and intelligent human being you put on your blinker and switched lanes, trying to follow Siri. Grandpa was driving a Porsche and he cut you off only to go 5 miles per hour. Your 1990 Chevy Cavaleir was driving faster than that and he thinks he can cut you off just because he has a better- you exhaled hard through your nostrils.  No. He wasn’t worth it.  You’d left in plenty of time, 30 minutes early actually, even though it’d only take about 20 to get there.

The only problem was your phone was verifiably ancient and your navigation was the slowest thing known to man. Once you’d gotten off the freeway, you’d made three wrong turns because your navigation was being ditzy and not telling you how close 600 feet was. And now the entitled drivers of Coast Hills decided you’d be okay with them cutting! you! off! Your hands squeezed the steering wheel a little too tight.

The ocean hugged your side on the highway for another five minutes, but each glimpse you tried to steal to it was futile. It was dark, an expansive pitch-black body stretching as far as your eyes- well, couldn’t see. It left you with a chilling feeling as you turned up the winding hills to the mansions waiting at the top. They were nestled all along the drive up, though hidden by hedges and various gates, and at the very tops all you could see were their lights already glistening, making the hills twinkle with light. Perhaps tonight they could see the water better from their perch above, but a part of you doubted it. No matter which way you tried to look at it, darkness somehow refused to be penetrated.

But you bet it looked gorgeous when the sun came up.

In 200 feet, make a right on Coast Hills Drive.

“Shit,” you cursed, quickly getting in the right lane and ignoring the honk of a horn. You didn’t have time to put on your blinker and as soon as you slammed on the accelerator to turn, you were slamming on the brakes. The iron gates were intimidatingly high and the guard that hopped out of his security room didn’t look amused. A mounted sign read “Coast Homes” behind a trickling waterfall that fell against a stone wall and massive palm trees stood beside it. And then there was you.

A knock on your window practically had you jumping out of your skin.

“Are you lost?” the guard asked. It looked as if his mouth was already open to give you directions, hands raising to point you someplace else, but you shook your head.

“No, not lost.” And his mouth closed at your words, hands quickly dropping to his sides and confirming your suspicions.

“Are you here to see someone then?” he prompted.

“Harry. Uh, Harry Styles.” A slight buzz ran through you saying those words. You were here to see him. You were actually invited to the Harry’s house. Oh god, what if you saw his bedroom?

His eyes narrowed a bit at the name.

“I mean, I’m here to see his family?” you suddenly clarified. As if it were necessary. As if he wouldn’t believe that you were here to see him alone. It didn’t make it much more believable though.

“What’s your name?”

“Y/N.”

He looked to the back of your car to check the license plate and you felt a twinge of annoyance. “Pull up then.” He used two fingers to beckon you forward before quickly jogging to the security room. You stopped closer to the gate and he scrolled through the computer with a furrowed brow, clucking when he found your name. “You’re here.” But it sounded like “wish you weren’t.” The heavy mechanics of the printer and a dull screech sounded as something printed, and he plucked a sheet of paper from the machine, holding it out to you.

“This is your pass. It’ll last until tomorrow in case you spend the night so don’t worry about tickets or anything like that as long as this is properly displayed on your dash.” He tapped your windshield as if you weren’t aware where your dash was located and you smiled.

“Thank you, it’ll only be for a few hours- tops.”

He nodded and then, as if you were old friends and he was admitting you into a secret club of his, said quietly, “Their visitors don’t usually last too long.” He straightened up instantly, his moment of gossiping weakness vanished with his once-again professional posture. He gave you a nod. “Have a good night!” The gate opened and you called out a quick thank you before entering the most brilliant display of wealth you’d ever seen.

Lawns were perfectly manicured as you passed, some opting for Mediterranean fashions and others expansive Spanish villas with imported tropical plants. Most cars you assumed were inside of the mansions in their garages, but the ones that weren’t inside weren’t any less impressive. “Ferrari, Porsche, oh! Tesla,” you muttered. It was like all the fancy cars you’d ever seen in passing on the highway had the same destination. Here. You stopped counting how many you saw on your hand when you got to 14. And the houses… they were the largest you’d ever seen. They were more like hotels than mere houses.

You’d seen glimpses from below, and recalled the many times you’d stare up at them dreamily on late night cruises to get back home from work, the lights beautifully transforming the hilltops and making you feel like it was an early Christmas. From below you seemed to forget how massive they would be in person.  How they hinted at lives being lived just out of reach. Staring at them up close now, you somehow felt they were even more so.

Make a right on Morning View Drive, then, in 500 feet, your destination is on your right.

You swallowed hard despite yourself as you turned right, suddenly thinking that Renny’s idea of a dress wasn’t that ridiculous of an outfit. But it was too late now, especially when you drove down a street just as manicured as the rest, but somehow seemed wider. The streets alone…They were about twice- no, three times the size of your own in width. And the houses were separated far from each other, far enough that one property easily took up the space of four large houses. You tried to zero in on the numbers along the houses – only to realize they were hidden. By gates. More gates? What were they hiding in there, the Crown jewels?

Your destination is on your right.

Your body jolted forward as your twitchy legs hit the brakes too hard and your car started drifting forward again as your foot relaxed.

Another jolt to stop before you ran into the mailbox.

You couldn’t see a number, but you didn’t think you had too. Forget the other houses - this was the largest home you’d ever seen, fitting for how well known the Styles family was. It was a Spanish Mediterranean style mansion with golden lanterns adorning windows and balconies…and this was just what you could see from what was rising above the iron gate surrounding the property. It sat prominently in the middle of the street, both intimidating and more striking than any of its neighbors, and the largest too – your gaze ran all the way down the gate; it took up the rest of the street until the end of the hill where it’d drop off into a deep valley and eventually run straight into the ocean. You’d seen that view from the highway a thousand times, but it was different to be on the other side of it now. You knew the Styles were rich, but you didn’t think they owned an entire coastal hilltop.  

You awkwardly repositioned the car and drove up to the callbox, but paused, looking to your purse hesitantly. Should you just call Harry on his cell? You rolled your eyes and leant out to press the little call button and the buzz that instantly droned in the air made your hand recoil in a snap and left your mouth suddenly very dry. This was real. This was happening.

Awesome.

You swallowed hard, trying to convince yourself you shouldn’t peel out of his driveway and drive straight back home to Renny and your ducky pajama shorts.

The droning stopped, and a long high-pitched beeeeeep sounded, which triggered the gates. There was muffling on the other end of the line as the iron gates started peeling back, and you could’ve sworn you heard a voice say, “Is that her?” Your hands were mildly shaking as they reached to put the car back in drive, from fear? Excitement? Admittedly, a bit of both.

You drove up the cobblestone drive through a yard lush with tropical plants that had to have been imported, but your gaze was quickly stolen by the resort-like property you’d be entering at any moment. Columns stood tall and the encased chandelier emitted a warm glow where the intricate glass doorway stood. The click of your booties walking along the cobblestone seemed loud as you walked to the front and tentatively raised a hand to the door. You knocked softly for fear the intricate glass would break, though it did seem expensive and thick enough…

You looked back to the only car in the driveway – yours. Their cars were probably hidden and well-kept from the elements in one of the three garages you’d parked in front of. The dent you’d received from last year’s fender-bender was still obvious even in this dim lighting. The crickets seemed peaceful tonight.

“Welcome!”

You turned sharply at the high-pitched voice to see Gemma. She held a full champagne flute in her hand, and leant a bit on the dark wood rim of the door, looking every bit as beautiful as you’d remembered – more so, now that you saw the cocktail dress she was wearing.

“Hi!” you mirrored her enthusiasm.  She ushered you in, not noticing it was a mere mask for how totally unprepared you felt. “Was I, uh, was this like a formal occasion?” you whispered, eyes darting down the long hall. The blank stare she gave you made your anxiety about being the most awkward human bean rise to new levels.

“What, formal?” Gemma looked baffled for a moment. “Oh! No, not at all. All my other clothes are dirty and I’ve been refusing for Sven or Eli to do them.” She took in your lost eyes. “The house maids- or, housemen? Not sure which,” she clarified. Her eyes quickly darted over your cardigan and jeans. “You look wonderful by the way. Dinner’s only just begun, I promise.” You smiled warmly at her, suddenly becoming aware of the chatter and silverware scraping the plates. A grand piano sat in the entrance, and there was a surprising amount of marble for the Spanish exterior of the house. Chandeliers lined the tall ceilings all the way down and some orchestra music you weren’t sophisticated enough to name filled the air.

She started walking down the hall, and you trailed behind her, your heart rate accelerating from the anticipation of seeing Harry in his home. It sounds weird, but you’d never been able to picture him at a proper house, with a family, with a childhood really… just the fraternity.

“Y/N is here!” She called out just as she turned the corner. Seven pairs of eyes locked on you and you instantly tugged on your sleeves. Especially when you only recognized two. Harry sat beside the head of the table, his eyes locked on the plate of food, and a surprise. Sorority Viv was beside him. You wanted to scowl, but you tugged the sleeves of your sweater down instead.

“Hi,” you put up a hand and braced a smile.

“Well we didn’t think you were coming,” a woman said. Her blonde bob looked strangely familiar and Harry’s eyes snapped to her when she spoke. Even from here you saw them harden.

“Oh..uh,” you looked down at your watch. 6:55. “I’m sorry, I thought dinner started at 7.”

“You’re fine dear,” the man at the head of the table assured. Mr. Styles you assumed. He had kind features and softened wrinkles by his eyes when he smiled like now. He was like a George Clooney and, even though he had gray hair, he was tan and somehow it was fashionable. But something was off.

“It was meant to be 6,” she noted, and her pearl necklace jostled as she leant over and placed her empty glass of champagne on the table and beckoned you to the seat in front of Harry. “Well come in! Please,” her voice sounded sincere but the thin smile radiated about as much warmth as a frozen potato. Gemma squeezed your shoulder as she passed and sat at the next empty one a few chairs down. You pulled yours out next to a fair-skinned boy with light dull brown hair and he offered his hand. It was like porcelain, so it was a little unnerving when you grasped it and found he was actually warm.   

“Charlie,” he said, and you realized he was the boy you saw kissing Gemma.

“Y/N,” you smiled. You looked across to Viv and did the same, and she returned it, if a little unwilling. She looked to Harry again, who’d busied himself more with food.

“Hey,” you said, but it was into the void, his eyes elsewhere probably looking at the thousand dollars worth of décor – your embarrassment was swallowing you up until Viv nudged him. He looked up, eyes distant, and they locked on your own for only a second.

“Hi.”

It was mortifying.

“So-” Charlie cleared his throat- “You guys are mates then I reckon?”

“We’re not sure what they are,” Gemma piped in.

“What do you mean?” Viv asked, looking to Harry.

“Yes, what do you mean?” Mrs. Styles suddenly halted the conversation at the other head of the table with the couple beside her. Harry’s face morphed into a scowl.                               

“Gemma,” he warned.

“Mary, please,” Mr. Styles sighed.

“Harry,” Gemma and Mary spoke at the same time.

“So!” Charlie let out a nervous laugh. “The chicken’s really good isn’t it?” He forked another bite into his mouth and you were envious you couldn’t do the same. Just like that, a gloved hand reached down and gingerly set down a china plate with the juiciest piece of chicken and capers you think you’d ever get the privilege of eating.

“Thank you,” you looked back to the kitchen help before he could disappear, black and white uniform and all. “You have a lovely home Mr. Styles. And Mrs. Styles.”

“Oh honey my mother-in-law is Mrs. Styles. I’m Mary, and he is Lionel.” Her voice was bubbly like the champagne she twirled around, but so was her friendly tone – full of air.

“Oh, okay.” You busied yourself with picking up the silverware before stealing a glance to Harry. His demeanor was different than usual, eyes glued to his food, cheek sucked in as he lightly gnawed on it. He was still, but .. sad? No.

…despondent?

“Did practice tire you out?”

His eyelashes fluttered at the sound of your voice and he looked up, lips pursing just the slightest. It was a miracle he hadn’t ignored you.

“No…”- a brief lift of his shoulders, a shake of the head, then- “No,” he repeated, forking a piece of chicken into his mouth.

“Yeah, you have been awfully quiet-OW,” Charlie began coughing and Gemma threw him a glare.

“Harry’s never quiet.”

“And how would you know that?” Harry suddenly snapped to life and the room dropped by ten degrees. She raised the napkin neatly to her mouth before slowly tucking it below her.

She took a deep composed breath.

“Oh please Harry,” her oddly placed laugh made you tug your sweater tighter to your body. “I’ve lived with you long enough don’t you think?”

“Long enough? Yeah I completely agree.” A sarcastic half grin spread across his face and something tugged within you that made you want to kiss it away. You heard yourself thinking and it made you sick. Kiss? KISS??!

You stuffed another bite in your mouth.

“So Y/N what’s the story here?”

You look up, cheeks full. Mr. Styles – Lionel, laughed a bit at the sight and his laugh didn’t make you want to cringe into your sweater like his wife’s. “Sorry darling, I’ll let you finish.”

You swallowed a little too fast.

“What are you studying here? How do you know Harry?”

“I’m majoring in Biology, but we’re in English class together.”

“Biology! I’ll drink to that,” Lionel lit up and raised his flute.

“Lionel’s the best doctor in Southern California.” Mary crossed her heart, and Lionel shook his head lightly.

“She exaggerates.” Her eyes narrowed slightly at his comment, but he continued, “If you ever need an internship or if you want to come visit one day…feel free.” He slipped a hand into his pocket and pulled out an extremely thick, extremely white business card as if it was the most normal thing in the world. “So… just class?” He gestured between you and Harry once more.

“Well, he’s also quite a good soccer player so I’m pretty sure the whole school knows him.”

“I wouldn’t say the whole school,” Harry started, but his eyes were fixed on Lionel and the way he broke into an easy smile.

“So we’ve heard. We’ve seen him play once or twice, haven’t we?” He looked to Mary who nodded. She soundlessly raised the napkin to her mouth again but she didn’t speak. “Yeah, he’s quite good.”

“Really good,” Viv crooned.

“Could you pass the water please?” Gemma asked.

“What?” Mary arched a thin brow.

“The water,” Gemma repeated.

“Water,” Lioinel mimicked the accent and broke into a smile. “You can’t ever leave Gemma, it’s decided. I’d miss your voice too much.”

Something snapped in you. He lifted the heavy vase of water effortlessly and passed it on to her, oblivious of the gears turning in your head. The accent.

Mr. Styles didn’t have one.

And neither did Mary?

“You don’t have accents?” It was out before you could stop it and the table fell silent. It was one of those awful moments when everyone’s brows were squished and slow side glances were given. And a nauseating feeling spread through you when you realized you might have said a very wrong thing. Viv nervously looked to Harry.

“What do you mean?” Mary asked.

Harry cleared his throat. “I mean, technically we all have accents.”

“He’s right,” Gemma said, pointing her fork.

“But you’re…are you British?”

“I am!” Charlie said.

“Yes you idiot,” Gemma nudged him, and Lionel laughed a bit before shaking his head.

“No darling, we’re from here. Born and bred beach bums.” He threw up the shaka sign in true dad-fashion but Mary tipped her champagne flute back.

Harry snorted.

“Never say that again.”

“Why am I embarrassing you?”

Harry didn’t bat an eye.

“Oh come on…Charlie smiled.” Lionel innocently looked over for support, but Charlie’s gaze was locked deep on his chicken by then.  

“You’re lying,” Harry shrugged. “You never go to the beach. Can’t be a host that lies to its guest can we?” Harry turned to you and you froze. “You don’t like liars do you? Cause I don’t.”

“What has gotten into you?” Lionel’s voice was breathless, incredulous.

The table fell silent and the two looked at each other from opposite ends of the table. Lionel set his glass down and a tint of disbelief reflected in his eyes.

“I’ve never seen you there it’s just funny to hear you say it,” Harry continued calmly.

“What’re you talking about I took you sailing all the time.”

“I’ve seen pictures!” Viv said, “Oh you were so cute in your little outfits, don’t you remember?” But her voice sounded overenthusiastic, keen to change the subject.

“Sure and how old was I again Vivvy?”

His retort was instant, the question harmless enough, but it was the way he said it that made Viv’s face instantly fall. For a moment, you even felt bad for her she seemed so genuinely hurt. Mary rubbed her mouth with the napkin so hard you weren’t sure if the red on her lips was blood or makeup. Do you speak? Make a mad dash for the door? Sorry, I didn’t sign up to be on an episode of the Housewives - gotta blast! Then you could throw the thumbs up sign to Harry on your way.

No. You couldn’t. You didn’t even dare to breathe right now.

Gemma watched wordlessly, just as much at a loss as you. More so, it seemed, for her mouth open and closed multiple times, but each time it was a hopeless attempt. Lionel rose his brows, took a deep breath, and leaned back. He looked tired.

Harry’s eyes had barely flitted over to yours before retreating again and in that brief moment you looked at him, it’s as if he realized what he’d said. His cheeks flushed, but his jaw was locked.

Okayy, someone woke up on the wrong side of his small fraternity bed this morning. But you’re welcome to come back and live with us. Have your nice king sized bed again…” It sounded like a nice offer but if you listened hard enough you could’ve sworn you detected something sharp.

“Oh funny joke Lionel,” Mary laughed humorlessly, slowly turning to you. “Harry’s always been independent.”

I wanted Gemma to reach out, to whisper a concerned Harry as a warning, because right now his eyes were dark, brewing a storm of blood rain from invisible scars he’d cut open himself. How deep did they run?

“Yes, funny, funny, that’s what we are,” Lionel said, but there was no smile on his face, he was rubbing the corners of his mouth with the napkin and setting it down on his clean plate. “Sorry about this.”

As if Harry wasn’t in the room. As if you didn’t feel as though you were in the most awkward position you could’ve been placed in, plopped in the middle of a tug of war you didn’t really remember signing up for. Were you supposed to be on a side?  

“Dinners aren’t usually like this, I don’t know why he’s-”

“I don’t know why we’re having this dinner. Are you done?” Harry asked Viv. Her plate was still full of vegetables and at least half the chicken.

“Actually-”

“Great! Are you done?” He turned to you in all his over-animation, and in his dark green eyes you felt a sudden sympathy. It wasn’t right what he was doing, but he could only be acting out for a reason. Or multiple.

Or perhaps he was a just a selfish petulant boy.

Whatever the reason there was a wild plead in his gaze and you didn’t want to disappoint.

But you were also very much aware of Lionel waiting for your answer.

“If everyone’s done, then I’m done too.” And in fact, your appetite had disappeared.

Gemma seemed close to tears, but she blinked them away and tossed her napkin. “Yes, I’m actually quite tired.”

Charlie halted his fork mid bite and with one look from Gemma he reluctantly put it down.

“Stuffed full actually,” he mumbled.

“Great, well, I’ll grab dessert.”

Mary rose with her napkin but the scrape of Harry’s chair against the wood floors made her do a sharp turn.

“Where are you going?”

He didn’t answer as he headed to the marble staircase, footsteps loud as he jogged up them.

“Let him go,” Lionel sighed, and with it, he shrunk smaller in his chair.

“Harry!” she screeched. But he didn’t answer and with a turn at the top of the stairwell he was gone.

Everyone dispersed after that. Lionel received a conveniently-timed phone call to which he had to dismiss himself into one of the many rooms. Mary headed immediately into the kitchen but she never came back -

And then there were four.

“I’m-” Gemma bit her cheek, folded her hands. “Nevermind.”

“I think I should get back.”

Gemma looked at you understandingly, a sad sort of reluctant smile gracing her face. “Perhaps that’d be best. It was really nice meeting you though, and as much as Harry doesn’t seem to get on with loads of people, he mentioned you multiple times. I thought-” Her eyes got misty again and they glazed over the multiple paintings hanging over the dining table. “Nevermind what I thought,” she looked down to her feet but for a moment before that, her warm eyes had smiled at yours. You didn’t know her, not at all, yet somehow you could tell the warmth behind them was genuine. And you liked her instantly.

“Alright, I’ll just – I’ll head out then. Thank you so much for the dinner, it really was delicious.”

“Thanks for coming,” Charlie offered, swinging his arm around Gemma.

“Guess I’ll see you at school.” Viv appeared beside them and the unexpected head of jealousy showed its face again. Well, not its whole face. Just the tip of its nose as it peered behind the pillars of your heart, because would you really want to spend more time in there?

You were shocked when that tiny part of you said yes.

You were only halfway to your car when you heard Viv shout out.

“Wait!” You obeyed, feet halting as her fast jogging in heels made record time. She let out a breath. “Back there, what you said about the accents, it’s not like it’s a big secret, but um.” Her eyebrows slightly knitted together. “I’m not sure why I’m telling you this, I guess just so you don’t make it a big deal.”

“Yeah. Wait- why, did I make it a big deal? I really didn’t mean to.”

She shook her head, then stopped. Her head leaned slightly to the side and her eyes pinched as she pondered your questioned. “Maybe a little.”

She put her arm around you and steered you to your car.

“Harry’s adopted, it’s not bad that I’m telling you this because they don’t try and keep it hidden or anything it’s just – they don’t advertise it. And most people don’t ask. They just assume long-term boarding school or something. They don’t look into it.”

“Oh. Right.”

Adopted. Of freaking course.

“It was when he was young, seven or something. Uh-” She stopped, perhaps she’d said a bit too much. “But anyway it’s not that big of a deal.” But it sounded like she was trying to convince herself. She looked to you.

“Yeah,” you agreed, “Totally fine. I mean I’m sure his other friends know anyways.”

She smiled then, and stuck you at arms length. “See you later.”

After revving the engine, and drawing up to the gate, you sat there for what must have been a solid twenty seconds, throwing the engine in reverse and then approaching it again. It didn’t move. Shouldn’t this thing be automatic from the inside? You threw it in park and trudged to the front door again, but no one was moving inside the house. You tried knocking. Everyone was gone. Fantastic.

A miracle, one of the garage doors started to open and you walked closer.

“Oh good, I was about to be stuck!” you called out as the doors clicked back, expecting Gemma to return your smile from the other side. But it was dark and no one was there. You did see the shadow of three other cars though. Three very nice racecar material cars.

“Hello?” You called out. You swallowed harshly when you saw two brown booties.

“What’s going on?”

You felt like you should be the one asking him that, but you just shrugged your shoulders. “The gate won’t open.”

Harry stood expressionless before retreating to the back of the garage.

“Wait- where are you-”

The sound of the gate opening shut you up. “Oh, thanks,” you mumbled. You didn’t really know what else to say, and Harry wasn’t exactly making conversation, so you were silent as the clank of your door closed you in again. Back to reality. This night had been a disaster.

The spluttering of your engine lasted longer than usual and you stilled.

Come on grandpa!!!!

You twisted the key again but it was refusing to give you the satisfying thrum when it finally gave. You were so close!! It couldn’t give out now!!!! It could literally break down, say, in a total hypothetical situation that did NOT happen, when I’m trying to avoid human contact after being pantsed in front of hottie toddie physics professor but it CAN’T give out now.

You tried again but it failed.

And you tried again.

And again.

And again.

Harry’s figure approached the car window with a beer in hand and he took a deep swig of it before knocking on the window. You barely heard it above the spluttering but you gave grandpa a moment of silence.

You rested your head on the steering wheel before bouncing up again and rolling down the window.

“What Harry,” you sighed.  

“She’s dead.”

“I know.”

You got out and waited, crossing your arms while Harry ran into the garage to check if he had any jumper cables or whatever else he’d need to fix this. At least it wasn’t smoking.

“We don’t have any.” He sauntered over, scratching the back of his neck and looking at the car. “Can stay here if you want.”

“I can call an Uber.” You hit your phone’s lock switch but it was a black screen. DAMN you Renny for hogging the charger before you’d left. DAMN YOU. “Can’t. Can’t call an Uber. Could you call one for me?”

“Are you trying to use me for my money?”

“I- no.” Your mouth parted but it closed again. Was he for real? Was he….kidding? “I can pay you back you know.”

“Lionel won’t hear of it. He doesn’t trust Uber.”

“Doesn’t trust Uber. What is he? A binge-watcher of late night crime shows?”

“No.” An almost smile shone through and you crossed your arms.

“Well I can’t just block the gate.”

“No one’s going anywhere for tonight.” He headed for the garage again. “Come on,” he called back.

“Renny will be worried about me!”

“You can call from our landline.”

People still had those?

“Sh they can hear you these walls aren’t 12 inches thick!!” you whisper-yelled into the receiver. You gave Harry an awkward smile and twirled the cord around the vintage phone. “Mary picked it up at a Parisian market or something. It’s mainly for decoration but they got it hooked up just in case,” he’d said, only walking to the end of the hall to give you some “privacy.”

It was literally from the 1920s. You felt like a vaudevillian actress about to break into song about how she wants to live a normal life but mommy and daddy keep her locked in a tower.

“I DON’T CARE IF THE WHOLE DAMN WORLD HEARS ME YOU ARE BETRAYING YOURSELF IF YOU SPEND THE NIGHT THERE.”

“Renny- ! Oh my- ! Could you just- could you just LISTEN?”

“Let me call you an Uber.”

“Lionel already knows and they’re-” you looked over at Harry who seemed to be distracted by a painting he’s probably seen a thousand times before and you lowered your voice- “Apparently one of the maids is already making my bed.”

“ARE YOU ROYALTY NOW?! Are they going to give you complimentary chocolates in the morning?! Are you going to be giving him complimentary HEAD-?!!!”

“RENNY!”

Harry’s head whipped towards yours, but his lips were still set in his pout. You grimaced, putting your back to him and facing the end of the hallway.

“Now you have me thinking about the wizard’s wand. I literally hate you,” you grumbled.

“You know I’m joking. Well, half-joking. You can stay there if you want it’s just-” she sighed- “What is this, are you guys like dating now? Because the last I heard you were literally running away from him and wanting to punch his face in.”

“He does give off that effect. And no! We’re not-” your voice lowered more- “We’re not dating. My car’s just broken down.

“You keep lying to yourself.”

“I’m not lying to anybody.”

“Keep telling yourself that kid. Because the last time I was with you was when you were literally RUNNING away from him. But you’re going to spend the night at his house. Voluntarily. I mean geeze you’re giving the poor guy a headache you can at least suck his dick.”

She’d hung up before the words even processed.

—-

“This is the living wing, I dunno why they call it that it just makes it sounds depressing.”

“What do they mean by living?” you asked. Each word sounded heavy on your tongue, each sentence carefully constructed. It was weird to be talking with him when he clearly wasn’t in the best frame of mind. When you didn’t know if he’d snap and turn sour all of a sudden.

Though you didn’t think that’d happen. He seemed more sullen to you now more than anything, apologetic maybe, if a word like that could describe him. Think: a toddler after being scolded for something he’s done wrong. Eh? That image seemed to work.

“It’s where my dad keeps his…creatures. Birds, fish, I don’t know I never fucking go in. It’s also where their bedrooms are.” He poked his head around the hallway before muttering, “I guess.”  

“Oh okay.”

Your feet stopped following him when you met a tall window. Their backyard was….spectacular. It was dark and the twinkle lights only exposed so much, but there was a very nice long pool, tile patio with sunbathing chairs, and more green beyond it. The all black on the horizon you assumed to be the ocean.

You didn’t realize Harry was behind you until he muttered, “What’re you thinking about?”

“You know I could ask you the same question. Like at least half the time I’m around you.”

His brows squeezed together a bit but a bit of a smirk was starting to form. “I’m not sure I know what you mean.”

“Oh you do. You definitely do,” you started to laugh and back into the window to scrutinize him from afar. Because right now he had a very odd look in his eye. “You’re quiet most of the time,” you said softer. After dinner, you weren’t quite sure what was going on in Harry’s family life. But the longer the adopted word kept being tossed around in your brain and analyzed every which way, you wondered how many different dynamics existed that added or subtracted to their relationship. Take Gemma. How did she fit in? She had the accent too.

So, if you could make him smile by backing up and eyeing him like he was some sort of specimen than so be it. As much as you would’ve killed to see him unhappy a couple days ago, you’d realized you’d been a bit rash to run into conclusions. And yes, you had managed to make yourself look like an utter mentally unstable ass and a half. So you could cut him some slack. The night hadn’t been a nightmare for just one of you.

“Stop it,” he warned. But you started to circle him and you squinted one eye, putting two hands up to frame Harry’s face and the window with the warmly-lit grounds like a director choosing the shot. “Okay seriously. Stop.”

“Nope,” you popped the p, “It’s funny. I couldn’t picture you in a place like this before, but now I can.” You slowly put your hands down and you thought you heard him mumble weird.

“Oi. Did you just call me weird?” your mouth opened in playful surprise. His nose scrunched up at your over exaggerations. He was confused, you could tell. And he was probably being just as cautious as you were, you realized. You didn’t blame him. But he was so close to smiling. Soooo clooosseee-

“S’just weird,” he settled with. And his would-be smile dropped. A little bit of guilt struck you.

“What is?” you began slowly.

“It’s weird that you’re here.” He shrugged. “I don’t know.”

Ouch.

“Why?”  

“Because I can’t picture you here.”

His voice seemed shy. He nodded towards the other end of the hall. “Come on, I’ll show you where you’re sleeping.” And he didn’t give you much time to catch up, nor time to feel offended, as his long legs were once again a disadvantage to you.

You weren’t sure how many bedrooms you’d been passing, and to be completely honest, Harry’s explanations of what each room was went a bit beyond you.

“Theatre’s to your right, sun room’s to the left. That’s the library over in there, elevator’s around the bend. Annnnd… here it is.”

He forgot to mention the multiple living rooms you’d been passing which had killer ocean views, or the full-on mini bars. Yes. Bars. As in numerous. You didn’t see much alcohol in them though and you wondered if it had anything to do with Harry.

“I’ll be at the other end then.”

“Of the house?”

“The hall, just there.” He pointed, and looked back at you with a funny look about him. “No sneaking into my bedroom.”

You coughed. “I’m sorry, was that a joke? A poor one but…Are you making jokes now?”

His smile faltered, but it was finally there. No matter how small or pained it looked. His eyes looked to his boots for a second before settling on your elbow, then your shoulder. Then your chin. Or was it-

“Right. Well. I’ll give you something to wear, just- stay there. Or don’t. I don’t care.” Harry turned quickly and disappeared into the last room at the hall. Your eyes grazed the hallway walls. He may not look necessarily enthused that you were there, but in this whole situation you’d felt like an outsider. And you suspected that was exactly what he needed.

Not that you held any pretenses to know what that confusing boy needed.

Not at all.

Or rather, none at all.

None were there to gather dust, to give you a glimpse into what he looked like as a toddler through to the awkward teen years. No family portraits hung. Each wall’s empty space was filled with a landscape painting of the sea, or the cliffs facing the water. Except for the power portrait of the Styles in the center of the home that looked out over their grounds - it was stark of any traces of family existence. The messy bits anyway. And instantly you compared it to your old stained carpets and walls with so many nails in it if you removed all the pictures and unscrewed the nails, you’d be left with hardly a house at all. This felt like someone had come in, staged it for a potential buyer, and that was it. Like if you opened the dresser’s drawer you wouldn’t find anything in it except for another nail or the assembly instruction manual.

You hummed to yourself, peering into your bedroom. A nice queen-sized bed and bamboo flooring. White canopy drapes covering what you assumed to be a window.  The only thing that seemed off was the ceiling. It had stars painted on it. You walked to the center of the room and looked up- there was a name there, inscribed in the center of the biggest star. You sat on the edge of the bed, twiddling your thumbs before wandering over to the ensuite bathroom. It was no less impressive.

A big part of you was wishing to be with Renny right now. Gosh you would’ve paid anything to see her face if she could only see the outside of this house. You never fared well when there was quiet, a lot of it anyway. And in a house this big, it was quiet. A little too quiet. And cold. Was the AC set to 50 or something?

Warm water ran down your face and you briskly turned the faucet off. At least Renny would be able to say “I told you so” tomorrow. Well, not about the blowjob thing. You opened the medicine cabinet to find some toothpaste, or face soap. The last thing you needed was another zit to pop through.

But there wasn’t anything of the sort. No no no.

Pills filled the cabinets. Some with labels, some without. You closed the cabinet. Definitely not toothpaste. Definitely not your business. But who were they-

“Oh my gosh!” your heart flew to your chest.

Mary was sitting on the edge of your bed, silent, hands folded in her lap. Had she seen you? The sudden adrenaline found an escape in an awkward laugh. “You scared me.”

“Oh I’m sorry. Didn’t mean to do that.” She tucked a strand behind her ear and it wasn’t until your hip hit the door frame on the way out of the bathroom that you realized she hadn’t been looking at you this entire time. She would’ve judged you for that blunder. No, her eyes were fixed on the walls, then the ceiling.

Did she need help with something? Were you in the wrong room?

“Is this my room?”

“It’s my youngest’s room.” She looked up again, and her left hand seemed to be a little shaky as she soothed already straight hair behind her ear. You watched her closer and saw her body sway a bit to steady herself when her head lowered. You instinctually looked to the door, to an exit. Harry should be down there. Nerves suddenly held your body like they always do in a situation that’s unfamiliar, in the face of unpredictability.

“She liked astronomy!” She said suddenly, as if she’d just had an epiphany. She walked over to the canopy drapes and peered between them, revealing a balcony as she looked out. “I thought she’d like it. She likes the stars.”

“I bet they’re, uh-” your eyes shot out again- “Beautiful from here.”

She was quiet and she slowly turned to you, pointing to the ceiling. “There. Did you- didyouseeit? There.” She stumbled closer, still in heels, and you crossed your arms tightly, nodding even though you had no idea. You followed her hand briefly. It was the scribble on the wall.

“I picked it,” she said, finger sliding to fall at her heart. “I picked it.”  

“Jesus! Mary.” Harry stormed in, a horrified look on his face as he clutched clothes in his hands. They fell to the floor.

“And Joseph,” you muttered.

Harry’s eyes held no humor in them in the brief moment he glanced to you. It was hardly enough time to properly glare. But glare he did. And there was enough fiery gusto in them to realize that now was not the time.

“Jane,” she corrected. “Jane.”

Harry was struck still, and you watched as his eyes frantically observed. But when she was about to sit down again he spoke,

“What’re you doing in here? Y/N is going to try and sleep.”

Mary looked at him, her drunken emotional journey to the past turning sour. Her lips pressed in a hard line and she stood up, swaying a bit when she did so, but the level of composure she emanated was impressive.  She went over to him, passing you silently, and for an irrational second you thought she was going to jump you. Instead, she grabbed Harry’s arm when she was almost out the door. “There were two rooms Harry.” She tried to whisper it, but the alcohol had warped her perception and you heard everything.

She let her hand fall and Harry’s fist clenched as it did.

You were struck dumb, again. This wasn’t your domain, you weren’t close enough to comfort him if that was what he needed and you weren’t brave enough to interject if he needed a good slap in the face. You barely knew him. And the realization of that sunk deeper than you’d ever realized. You can get frustrated because of him, infuriated at him even, but you couldn’t be one to judge. Not when he seemed more miserable here than anywhere else.

“Stay here,” he finally said. And then he was gone, leaving you with a pile of clothes that couldn’t explain the half of it.

You stripped quietly once the door was closed, pulling the oversized plaid button up down that fell to completely cover your hands. It still left you cold, barely covering your bum, but your heart warmed a little at how he didn’t just give you a black t-shirt. You almost stepped over the sweatpants that were there before greedily snatching them up with a smile In your fanciful mind you imagined he knew you’d be cold in here.

Harry never came back. You couldn’t text Renny, or anyone, and you couldn’t be bothered with figuring out how to turn on the tv or to find a channel. So you lay there, looking at the ceiling. You didn’t belong in this room. Mary, even if she hadn’t necessarily said get out, still verifiably creeped you out enough so that you didn’t want to be in this room. You never knew Harry had another sibling. Not that you’d even known about Gemma until yesterday. How many other people knew him, truly? Why were you here now? What would you do if you opened your eyes and Mary was just sitting at the end of your bed again - watching you sleep?  It made your head dizzy and you closed your eyes. If she was there at least you wouldn’t be able to see her. But the scribble in the sky was still burned in your mind’s eye and it had your imagination roaring. You rolled over on your side, pulling up the thin sheet to cover your ear. The wind smacked a palm tree leaf against the balcony window and you jolted in place. You felt haunted, and it wasn’t like the sheet would protect you from anything except for soothing the little toddler in you who still believed that good always won, evil always lost.

This was an expensive home.

With probably more security than the local bank.

You were safe.

But you didn’t feel secure.

Your anxious thoughts continued like pins pricking your stomach until fatigue made it stop. You didn’t know the time when you fell asleep.

And you didn’t know the time when you awoke. The smacking of the palm trees was as bad as ever , and your nightmare had been worse tonight. The same sick one. A house in the countryside, peeling wallpaper that threatened to wrap itself over your hands if you leant against it a little too long, trapping you there when you needed to run from faceless creatures.

You were being watched.

You jolted-to in a cold sweat.

Was it 2 am? 3? You hoped it was closer to 6, to the sunrise. These days you cherished the times when you’d wake up at 4. You tried closing your eyes again, but the sweat soon chilled you enough to where the sheet wasn’t enough. You silently stood, walking over to the cabinets on the far side of the wall. The painted shutter doors squeaked when you opened them. It must’ve not been opened for a while because the paint caused the two doors to stick together and it only gave on the third tug.

What you saw stilled your heart. Because you didn’t find linens or a big fluffy blanket, and if you’d discovered this just a few hours later in the morning you’d probably glance right over it, perhaps it would’ve sparked a moment of confusion maybe. But now, in a big strange house in the middle of the night you surely felt a chill. And then you were booking it out to the hall.

His door was there. Just like any other door. But you paced around it a few times. He was probably sleeping. Should you just go to the downstairs? Just…I don’t know… grab a glass of water? Try putting on the tv? Like a normal person would? You raised your hand, but it fell just as fast. Gosh who were you?!

You couldn’t yell at Harry for being bipolar when you were basically the perfect spokesmodel. You knew why you were standing outside his door. You knew who’d make you feel secure. This was embarrassing.

But the door opened before you had to knock.

“You can come in,” he murmured.

“Oh,” you said, voice barely above a whisper. “Oh you don’t have to-”

But when he opened the door wider you didn’t waste a second in entering.  

part 10

But what you don’t know is that when I’m driving alone, sometimes my entire world comes crashing down and I find myself crying while I’m driving and tears pour down my face and I can’t see. I can’t see because these tears aren’t just salt and water. These tears are more than that. These tears are filled with the emotions I felt and feel towards you. These tears contain the world that I dreamed of with you and every single detail relentlessly spills from my eyes. These tears glimmer with all of the hope and dreams and love we had for one another. These tears carry the memories of our dates and dumbest arguments and every moment we shared in between. These tears are your name and your smile and your laughter. They’re the name of your dog and your siblings and they hold the secret to how you hugged and kissed me and how you could tell me you love me in a sleepy fashion but for some reason, it was always the most perfect version of “I love you.” God please help me. These tears. These tears. These tears.
These tears contain you.
—  roibitussin 

anonymous asked:

oh god seeing that stability transcript i cant believe some people still force their black paladin l4nce idea ahskdjskf glad that they dont even entertain that question. also "from last year" let it sleep my pal (sorry to vent your way ahskdj)

I mean, we’re all going to interpret characters differently, so of course we won’t always agree. And wow, I wish I got to ask questions at two different Voltron panels!! They’re living the dream. 

But yeah, personally I never understood this thing with black paladin Lance and never saw it as something that was ever implied in canon. If anything, we’re shown just how bad a leader Lance would be in season 3. I feel like it’s often glossed over or forgotten, but Lance was incredibly insensitive and selfish. Lance’s entire reason for wanting to lead is merely for the sake of his own glory. 

And the look on Keith’s face when Lance instigates him to the breaking point is absolutely heart-wrenching. He lashes out in another grief-stricken outburst, and the effect is immediate. The whole room falls silent as Keith panics at how much he’s revealed and quickly closes off again. Keith was mourning, grieving the loss of the one person who never gave up on him. He cared about Shiro more than anyone else in the universe. It’s clear he’s struggling to cope even all these months later, withdrawn and temperamental and always on edge. He’s traumatized, but Lance still has the audacity to disregard Shiro’s last and will and testament for the sake of his own damn ego.

But even after Lance sees how much he’s hurt Keith, even after he clearly looks concerned–he just doesn’t stop. For the sake of salvaging his own pride and nothing else, he continues to flagrantly spit on what Shiro wanted and just how much his will meant to Keith. And for what? Just to one-up Keith in some imagined game where no one else is keeping score? Sure. Tear on the guy in mourning when he’s just lost the only long-term support he’s ever had in his life and accuse him of being a lying glory hog. That’ll help. 

When he’s trying to pilot Black, Lance spends more time waiting in the seat than anyone else. While Keith is saying things like “I know this is what you wanted for me Shiro. But I’m not you. I can’t lead them like you,” and begging “please, no”–Lance is sitting there telling himself “This is your moment.” See the difference? Keith was concerned about the overall wellbeing of the team and wanted to do right by Shiro. Lauren straight up said the Black lion saw in Keith what Shiro did, and it was through their bond that she was able to sense Keith’s intentions and merit. Meanwhile, all Lance wanted was to be in charge because he felt like he deserved the glory and attention. I fail to see how he’s mature enough to be the leader over Keith when his entire drive for the job was flimsy and steeped in his own ego and taste for glory. 

But hey! You know what? That’s okay! Not everyone is meant to be the black paladin. And I think people have really lost sight of what that means–being Black’s pilot doesn’t mean you’re the “best” and it’s just a popularity contest to put your fav on type. The whole point of the lions combining is that everyone has their own strengths and they’re equal parts of a whole. And hey, they’re all still learning! It’s okay if Lance didn’t really have a grasp of what leading meant yet. Yeah, he’s eager to prove himself–something we see in Allura as well. And given the Blue lion’s nature as this “mothering” lion who fosters growth in aspiring pilots, it’s easy to see why she chose Lance and Allura. But then Lance also really grows up here and understands that Voltron is about being a team and not being on top. He respects Black enough to accept her decision and encourages Keith to take up the position instead of tearing him down. And just comparing how he acted at the beginning of the episode, that shows he’s grown a lot. I’m proud of him. 

So when fandom reinforces this idea that somehow Lance is the true black paladin and Keith is apparently incompetent, it’s always bothered me. I feel for one thing it shows people don’t really care about Keith. And for another, I think it’s people misinterpreting Lance and undermining his character development as well. If his strength in character was to acknowledge when to “put his own need for glory aside” and support what’s best for the team–then why take that development away from him? 

Keeps Me Up At Night

Harry woke up in a cold sweat.

He shot up from bed, propping himself up the mattress almost immediately once he finally got himself to wake up from the thought; the thought that was more than a nightmare to begin with.

He’s visibly breathing heavily, the thin sheen of sweat coating his forehead as he didn’t even bother to wipe it off, his focus concentrated on the rapid rising of his chest and on how he could dispose such images in his mind that won’t leave him.

“Please — please tell me you’re there.”

Harry mumbled under his breath, his head turning over to see your figure still laid beside him that just stirred, being woke up from the excessive movements he possessed from the sheer panic he had.

“Thank God.”

He’s trying to compose himself as the pit in his stomach won’t leave him instantly, trying to calm himself too that it’s getting too much, seeing for a moment that it’s 2 A.M. that made him realize how much it kept hin up, on how much he thought of it as he went to bed with it.

“What happened?”

Harry turned to you, his fingers fiddling with the rings he kept on as the words to say are already on the tip of his tongue waiting to be said, knowing that he really isn’t clear in the tides as your voice is distant.

It’s from the yells from the fight awhile ago and he knows it. It’s from the tiredness within you that made him doubt why you aren’t even mad at him anymore since he thinks you’re so used to being let down.

It’s because of him and he knows it.

“S'nothing — go back to sleep, love.”

Harry thinks it’s pathetic of why he even said the words he did while ago, especially his recent statement that even you wouldn’t buy, a reason clearly prevailing that made you awake suddenly in the wee hours of morning.

It was only a tilt of your head that confirmed your thoughts, your eyes set on him softly as he felt his voice go little, his heart sinking as he thought of it more.

“Had the dream that you left.”

He corrected himself, seeing to it as more of a nightmare that made him glad he woke up before it even continued, looking at you as he awaited your reaction.

Harry wanted to observe every bit of what’s beside him; the one on his bed, the one inside his house, and the one that’s his home.

He’s looking at you whose mouth is slightly agape and whose figure is rested delicately against a pillow propped to the headboard, fazed by the happening.

And dear God, he isn’t kidding.

Harry’s afraid to lose you.

He watched you look down on the comforter that’s covering your lap, the lump on your throat being swallowed as a little sleepy smile appeared on your face that made his heart warm and the uneasiness in his chest being slowly lifted up.

He didn’t know how he got so lucky to deserve someone who’s sticked with him even if there were instances that made you feel on rock bottom, being there as someone he’d look up to in adoration.

They were two simple words that Harry heard but he was extremly comforted and gratified by it, letting his hand envelope yours that reached out to him in consolation.

“I’m here.”



Masterlist

Lie to me - Dean Winchester x Reader - Chapter 5 (French Mistake AU)

Title: Lie to me

Pairing: Dean/Jensen x Reader x Sam

Word Count: … No

Warnings: None

Imagine: Imagine Dean and Sam getting transported to the French Mistake universe. Only for Dean to realize he is married to you, his best friend, love of his life and… Sam’s girlfriend.

Great thank you to @gaveherhearttotheliontattoo for being an amazing beta!

Read Part 1 here! l Read Part 2 here! l Read Part 3 here! l Read Part 4 here!

“I’m not Jensen damn it!”

“You’re not… who?” you blinked, taking a step back and away from him.

“I’m not-” Dean took a deep breath,trying to calm down his wildly beating heart; it was out now there was nothing he could do to take it back and maybe he didn’t want to “I’m not Jensen.”

“What- what do you mean you’re not Jensen?” you blinked the tears from your eyes, watching him carefully and Dean hated himself for how you seemed to withdraw from him even more.

“I’m not going to hurt you.” he whispered, his voice rough; feeling a pang in his chest as you took yet another step back “I swear I’m not gonna hurt you just- I need you to listen to me, please. And then- then you can do whatever you want. Run, leave for good or kick me as hard as you can, I’ll take it.” he lowered his head letting out a shaky breath “I’d take it all from you.” he closed his eyes for a moment.

“I asked you one thing: What the hell are you talking about?” you pursed your lips, trying to seem brave although your hands were shaking.

“I’m not Jensen, not your husband Jensen.” he breathed out, looking at you “I’m Dean, Dean Winchester. The very same character your husband plays in the show, Supernatural. We’re here from our universe because a witch-”

“We?” you asked, cutting him off.

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