the first time he mentions ~school or something of the sorts

OKAY BUT concept: Lazytown, but it’s meant for teenagers

Okay but- imagine how different Lazytown would be if it were meant for teens while STILL trying to be educational 

Like, it’s a few years into the future, and all the kids are now in middle or high school (depending on age. I like to think Ziggy 13, Stingy and Stephanie 14, and Trixie and Pixel 16) 

Of course, Sportacus, Robbie, and the other adults would all treat the children differently now that they are older. They are open to talk to the kids about more mature and serious topics 

The teens are a really confusing time to be going through, and I’m sure Sportacus would still be just as supportive and willing to save the day…he just does so in different ways now 

The show would cover and educate teens on  issues that teens might go through like 

*Ziggy being self-conscious about his weight to the point where he just- stops eating and Sportacus tells him that how his body FEELS is more important, rather than how it LOOKS (covering body positivity, eating disorders, showing that boys can have that problem too) 

*Stingy developing his very first crush on someone and becoming very clingy and possesive and needing to be taught that people are NOT like things and you can’t just CLAIM a person as yours (covering consent and healthy relationships) 

*Steph getting her period for the first time and she and the Mayor have no idea wtf is going on (cuz lbr, the mayor is kind of dumb) so Sport’s crystal beeps and they’re like “she’s bleeding!” and Sport knows what’s happening but doesn’t know what to do so they actually call Bessie for help. But after that, Sporto starts carrying pads/tampons along with him just in case cuz you gotta stick out for your friends 

*Given the amount of time Pixel spends with computers, I’m sure you can make at least one episode on internet safety with it. Pixel’s crush on Stephanie might be good material for episodes on teenage romance and healthy relationships too 

*Trixie maybe starting to realize that she’s “not like other girls” and doesn’t really pay much attention to boys like they do (covering sexuality) Perhaps she even likes Stephanie a little which could add the element of a love triangle

*Maybe in that same episode, Sport teaches them about gender and sexuality in general and he brings up non-binary gender and Robbie overhears and identifies it with himself, giving us a message that it’s never too late to come out or discover who you are 

*Imagine the drama of an episode where one of the kids gets their hands on a cigarette and Sport catches them just before they’re about to light it and for the very first time EVER, he’s visibly VERY ANGRY at and DISSAPOINTED in the kids, but it’s all out of a place of concern 

*Or an episode where Robbie slips Sport just ONE shot of alcohol in secret and given how sensitive his body is to just SUGAR, Sport instantly gets alcohol poisoning which leads to Robbie freaking out and probably asking the kids for help or something because not even sportscandy is fixing it (teaching kids to be careful around alcohol and also what to do if a friend happens to get sick) 

*Sport shown to actually be overwhelmed with worry about the safety of people in town every once in a while and having anxiety over it, and being confused because he goes outside a lot and eats healthy so WHY is it happening? And Robbie who also dealt with anxiety issues in the past actually telling him that sometimes, that’s not enough and how sometimes, medications and therapy may help (teaching that it’s okay to let people know you aren’t always ok, and that you shouldn’t hide it) 

And of course, Sport would STILL be promoting a healthy lifestyle in general. He’s the cool high school health teacher dad, who’ll talk to the kids about anything they want to know, from puberty to sex to crushes, anything. And Robbie has toned it down on the schemes a bit (since the kids are older and much less guillable now so there’s no point) and has warmed up to the kids a bit now that they are older. But, he’s still the lazy insomniac we know and love. Maybe sometimes, …Robbie might even be a better teacher in terms of MENTAL health than Sportacus even, given all the stuff that he himself has dealt with having 

…Not to mention, an older target audience opens up potential for Sportarobbie to actually be a thing? 

There’s just- so much potential that Lazytown could STILL have, even if it weren’t meant for younger kids

This is just- something that I really really want and like to think about 

EDIT: Some MORE ideas for you since I came up with more 

*Pixel’s crush on Steph just getting bigger and bigger but he has no idea how to talk to girls, so for whatever reason, he asks ROBBIE for advice on how to do that, who ends up bringing out Rottenella for him to practice on 

*That ends up being a bust given that Rottenella can’t talk, so he ends up asking TRIXIE to help him practice and even after realizing that the girl he has an eye on is Stephanie, …she helps him out anyway even if it hurts, because Stephanie and Pixel are her friends and she actually….sacrifices her own feelings for theirs 

*Sport is the one person that Trixie can talk to and vent to about her feelings for Steph, being the one guy she can trust, and then Sport totally hits us with the feels by being like “I understand what you’re going through….the person I like wants me out of town forever.” 

*Robbie going through one of his depressed states during the winter holidays (perhaps seasonal affective disorder? The episode covers depression) and isolating himself around Christmas because his self-esteem is in the gutter and he’s convinced that nobody wants him around, so he’ll spend the holidays alone, and Sport is just heartbroken and like “No, you’re very wrong, we WANT you to come be with us and we love you” and we finally get a translated performance of “Aleinn um Jolin” 

*Robbie reprogrammed Sugar-Pie to act like a normal dog, but one day he stops functioning  and is beyond repair and basically “passes away”, and everyone else is like “??? but it’s a robot, just make another.” But Sport reminds the kids that regardless, this was someone that Robbie was close to and that they should let  him grieve and be there for him (covering loss, death, and the stages of grief, which is something everyone goes through at some point) 

*Bessie becoming the unofficial mom that helps the girls out with the things that Sportacus and the Mayor might lack ability or knowledge to help in (like, bra shopping and shit like that because the idea of momma Busybody is just great, you guys) 

*Being the youngest, Ziggy is just entering high school and the older kids support him and help him get used to the transition from middle school 

*At least one episode with the trope where one of the boys is dealing with their voice cracking due to puberty (Stingy, because he would be the funniest) 

*There is still a Bing Bang at the end of each episode, but each one is different where sometimes, a different character sings it, or the music changes genres or parodies some sort of pop culture reference 

…You can make at least 12 episodes out of all this? That’s like, half a season right there 

ANOTHER EDIT: I’ve noticed how a big handful of you said that you fucking want this? Well, I’m not stopping you? Everyone, be my fucking guest if you wanna contribute to this in any sort of way. 

Actually…it might be kind of fun, making this into a sort of group project (collaborate on art, fics, etc) You guys can like, message me if that sounds cool

bad | 07

  He was the cliché bad boy. He was the guy you couldn’t stand. He was the handsome, hot kid who made girls go weak in the knees. He was a brat. You had never liked him one bit, but you had also never gotten involved with anything concerning him. Until one day, when you were in the wrong place, at the wrong time.

Originally posted by mvssmedia

MEMBER: jeon jungkook x reader (ft. kim taehyung)

GENRE: smut, romance, fluff

WORDS: 10 243

WARNINGS: mature & sexual content, profanity, dirty talk & other filth

| 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | 07coming soon

A/N: please beat my ass for taking over a fucking month with this. hopefully it was worth the wait tho ;). writing this killed me.

Keep reading

Some Strings Attached

Ugh so there was a post going around that I’ve now long since misplaced but it was like “I just saw you go upstairs with someone else and I know we’re only fuck buddies but I’m gonna go punch them in the face” and I was HERE FOR IT. If somebody remembers the post, link me. In the meantime, have some Sterek getting together fluff.

“Just tell Derek you want to date him,” Scott says, as if it’s the simplest thing in the world.

Stiles bugs his eyes and flails his hands in wordless frustration, because the correct response to this patently ludicrous advice eludes him. He had come for sympathy, not pie-in-the-sky delusions. “Scott. Bro,” he finally gasps. “How could you even suggest that in good faith? No way! Bad plan!” He slashes his arms in a demonstrative X. “The only reason we’re even hooking up is that I made it super clear I was down to fuck, no strings attached! I’m not ruining a good thing by announcing to Derek Hale that I’m 85% in love with him.”

“Why?” Scott genuinely seems confused, the sweet summer child. After falling into a happy triad with Allison and Isaac after their first semester at UCLA, he doesn’t really understand the definition of “unrequited.”

Stiles turns his attention to a hanging thread on his t-shirt, sourly tugging it loose. “He’s out of my league. I mean, with the baseball, and the smarts, and the sarcasm, and those eyes…” he breaks off with a sigh. The last thing he needs to do is remind himself of how gone he is on Derek. “Just, he’s popular. Dictionary definition of too cool for school. And the three people he actually deigns to hang out with here are all just as cool and good looking as he is. Do I need to remind you I’m not? I’m a gawky, nerdy Sophomore. I’m lucky to even be his fuck-buddy.”

Scott makes a face, incredulous. “I dunno, he must like you well enough if he’s still sleeping with you after all this time. What’s it been, six months? And you guys hang out, too, you’re always telling me about how easy it is to chat with him after you bone. So it’s not just sex.”

Stiles grimaces. “Yeah, but it’s not…”


“… a real relationship,” Derek says into the phone, hearing full well the heavy dejection in his voice. So sue him; the admission is more than a little depressing. “He just wants to be fuck buddies.”

“How do you know?” Laura asks reasonably. “Maybe this Stiles person would be interested in dating you, too. No offence, but you’re not great at reading people. I mean, he’s interested in chilling with you even after you hook up, and clearly he enjoys the physical aspect. Did he actually ever say he wasn’t looking for more?”

Derek heaves a sigh, rolling his eyes even though she can’t see over the phone. “Yep. About two minutes after the first time we slept together he said, ‘no strings attached, obviously.’ So, you know, pretty safe bet that it’s no strings attached.”

“Oh,” Laura says. For once she doesn’t have a snappy comeback.

“Oh,” Derek agrees. Dejectedly.

She gives him a sympathetic little hum, and then asks, “and he’ll definitely be at the sorority barbecue?”

“Yeah.” Stiles and his broad shoulders and his long fingers are definitely going to be at the party.

“Maybe you shouldn’t go,” his sister says softly. “If you really like him, and he’s just looking to get laid…”

Derek groans. Not go, and give up a chance to hook up with Stiles? Smart, maybe, but not something he’s capable of doing.

The problem is, he’s liked Stiles forever. Or at least since he first saw him, laughing uproariously and running around with his friends with an actually broom between his legs, playing “Quidditch.” Derek would have been way too embarrassed to do something like that on the front lawn, but Stiles made it seem like the most effortlessly awesome thing a person could get up to.

No, compared to Stiles, Derek is practically a social recluse, an awkward jock with only about three people who he gets along with at all. Stiles definitely doesn’t want to get saddled with a boyfriend like him. He’s lucky they’re even hooking up after all this time.

“Derek, I mean it,” Laura says. “Look out for yourself for once.”

“I know, I know,” Derek grumbles. “But it’s not my fault he’s…”

Keep reading

UH OH LOOKS LIKE WE’VE GOT A HYDRA FAN

andarthas-webreplied to your post:[Captain America (2011-2012) #1]“Got solid intel…

*facepalms* Painfully obvious none of you read the comics and are making snap judgements based on incomplete info. Also, you couldn’t tell a nazi from a fascist and a hero from a villain if your life depended on it….

Okay. Wow. I can’t believe we’re here. I’m savoring this moment hold on. Let me breathe it in. Let me just lap it up. I have to feel the grace of God come over me so I don’t school yo ass too hard. Ahhhhhhhhhhhhh

Okay

Yup. First off, you…. commented on a screencap of me reading the comic. That I own. That I can take screencaps of. That is in my library. On Comixology. That I paid for. Since most of my library, y’know this one

pales in comparison to the one I’m used to having since I moved across the country and don’t have access to the accumulative collection of mine, my dad’s, and my sister’s. Y’know. The one that has comics dating back to first printings in the 60s. But whatever.

What do I have on Comixology at this point?

Oh right. 2634, most of which are trade collections. And that’s not counting the hundreds of issues I have in the archive because I’ve already used them on my comic book reference blog @renaramblesaboutcomics​. Y’know. Where I’m hosting my comic reviews and live reads I’ve been doing on tumblr since 2011.

But you’re riiiiiight. Maybe I don’t have the reference for Cap. Gosh darnit I’m just such a newb. What the fuck’s wrong with me, commenting on Cap comics I don’t know shit about.

Ohhhhhhhh right. I just own the whole fucking run you’re referring to. Right right. Not to mention I have read the Ultimate comics, the Jeph Loeb and Tim Sale Captain America: White, the Sam Wilson Cap comic before Spencer lost his goddamn mind, and a couple dozen more not to mention the Avengers comics I own, the Spider-Man guest appearances, the X-Men guest appearances, the guest appearances in Captain and Ms. Marvel books, and all those other comics that feature him.

My bad. Looks like you’re full of shit. And I’m an actual Cap Fan. Uh oh.

Looks like you’re in trouble.

But I have to close out with one more thing:

Okay I’ll stay away from the obvious answer which is that you…. apparently know that the National Socialist Movement in 1930s Germany was …. fascist. But that’s okay. (It’s actually not, it just shows you’re fucking ridiculous)

The thing is you’re accusing me of not being able to recognize either. So let me introduce you to someone I’m pretty sure knows Nazis when she sees them.

Hi. I’m Renaroo. I run this blog, also @renaramblesaboutcomics​. Along with being a lifetime comic book fan,the daughter of comic book fans, and the granddaughter of comic book fans, I’m something else that you would know if you wandered around my blog any:

I’m German-American. Specifically I’m only the second generation of Americans in my family. My family came over from post-Nazi Germany in 1950. Specifically I have to thank this little woman in the middle:

That’s my grandma. Actually she’s all of our Grandma – We’re now a family of Italian-German-Americans,l Mexican-Americans, Polish-German Americans, and (my sister and I) Appalachian-German-Americans.

My Grandma just turned 78 this year and in her lifetime she lived through, you guessed it, World War II and Nazi Germany. In fact, she lost her father in the war – my great-grandfather.

She was also as a young child mauled and attacked by an SS German police dog, which she has scars on her arms from. They’re next to the scars she got from her time as a welder in a metal shop in Akron, Ohio during the rubber boom, but that’s less relevant.

This 4′9″ woman has taught me many things over the years. She helped raise my sister and me. And some of things she, and my great-grandmother before she died at the age of 98, would talk to us about was living under a fascist dictatorship and how that place was called…

wait for it…

Nazi Germany.

So, yes. I know what Nazis are. I know what fascists are. If I didn’t, I could call up my comic book collecting dad who is also a history professor, and get him to explain it to us, but I’m pretty sure I don’t have to.

Why?

Because before slow roasting you over a fire, I guess I could’ve pointed out this. It’s sometimes hard to find so I don’t really blame you for not having read it yourself. I’m not an asshole comic book fan who lords that sort of thing over people

But here’s Captain America (1941-1950) #1:

[Captain America (1940-1941) #1]

Oh wow look it’’s Red Skull’s first appearance. What’s that he’s wearing on his chest? Why doesn’t he know he leads HYDRA? Not Nazis. That’s so weird I wonder what the two have in common…

P.S. @andarthas-web​, in case it’s not obviously apparent from the entirety of this post you enabled by trying smear shit on my original post: You’re a fucking idiot.

Insecure (Peter Parker x Reader)


Authors note: this was requested by the lovley @signethatsmelol, also I hate myself bc I turned my precious babies against each other for the sake of fiction

Warning(s): some swearing, violence, angst BUT DW BC FLUFF AT THE END

Something was wrong. Seriously wrong. Maybe it was the unusual silence of the school halls after class or the fact that Peter hadn’t come to find you but something was definitely up.

You frowned as you made your way to your locker, your boyfriend of a year nowhere to be seen.  Opening it up, you loaded in your calculus textbook and a few other things before heading your academic decathlon club. You often found yourself looking forward to your team meets as you’d get to spend more time with your boyfriend, Peter and best friend, Flash.

You’d actually met Peter through Flash, when you’d first joined Midtown high. Flash had been your ‘tour’ guide as such, and he was extremely sweet towards you, he’d made you feel comfortable with the move to a new high school and even invited you to the team’s first meet of the year, although he was very flirtatious and you weren’t into that. Peter had joined the meet a little later than it had started because of his Stark internship and it was pretty much love at first sight from then on.

You’d grown to love his little stammer every time he talked to you, and that blush that spread from his cheeks to his neck every time you held his hand in public. You could even say you loved Peter Parker . That’s why you were so worried when he hadn’t come to meet you, the pair of you were inseparable so you knew something was wrong.

You were pulled out of your thoughts as your friend Michelle came running towards you, panic etched across her features. “Michelle?” You asked, turning from your locker to face her, concern stitched into your voice. She was hunched over, hands gripping  her knees as she struggled to catch her breath.

“I-it’s Peter” she began, drawing herself upwards. “He’s gotten into another fight”

Your eyes widened as she spoken, you slammed your locker shut as the curly haired girl lead you towards the fight. Within a matter of minutes, you found yourself behind a large gathering of people, formed into a circle. People were cheering and filming the ordeal. Hurriedly, you pushed your way through the bands of people, trying to get a better look at the scene.

“Excuse me, sorry. Pardon me”

What you saw after weaving your way through the crowds made your heart drop. Your friend, Flash and your boyfriend Peter.

They were currently standing opposite each other, faces swollen and bruised. Flash had clearly gotten the brute end of it, and looked like he was on his last legs. Peter on the other hand looked significantly less injured and you knew in that moment he had been the one to start the fight. You knew Flash had picked on Peter, that’s what made it hard to maintain your friendship with him but you never thought Peter would lash out on him like this.

“Say that again, I dare you” you heard Peter spit, bouncing his fist up and down menacingly. Through the pain, you could see Flash draw his lips into a cruel smirk.

“She doesn’t want you, she never has. She’s only with you to get back at me”

That was all it took for Peter to launch himself at Flash, you covered your eyes and bit your now quivering lip, as you heard the pair’s grunts of pain. You knew know that this wasn’t some stupid spat between boys.

This was about you.

Opening your eyes, you rushed out into the circle, the cheers from the crowd only sky rocketing. At this point, both boys were at either side of the circle, you rushed between them in an attempt to stop the violence. “Stop it!” You yelled breathlessly, looking between them. “Just stop it! You’re hurting each other!”

Both boys fixed their posture before looking at you. You stared Peter down, meeting his gaze with a confused look, you could see the guilt swirling in his eyes. Your attention was stolen, when Flash begun to speak up. “Get outta the way (Y/N), I gotta let this punk have it

Don’t talk to her like that” Peter seethed back. You shook your head, begging yourself not to cry as the two boys you cared about glared and growled at each other. You could see that Peter was tired and could tell that he was feeling guilty.

“Leave it Flash” you called out as he tried to advance. You turned to your boyfriend and grabbed him then by the wrist trying to get him out of there. You pulled him into a guest toilet and locked the door behind you. You sat him down on the lid of the toilet,  grabbing some tissue and running it under some cold water before pressing the compress to his bruised knuckles.

“What the fuck was that Peter?” You said, as you worked in silence. Peter could only watch as you moved about, making more compresses for his cuts before they bruised.

“I’m sorry” the brunette boy whispered, not meeting your eyes as you inspected his face. You paused, looking into his chocolatey orbs, anger swirling in them.

You’re sorry?!” You yelled, your calm facade breaking down. This wasn’t the first time Peter had gotten into a fight over you, in fact, they’d been happening a lot more recently. You’ve never mentioned it to him before, at first you thought he was being over protective, but now you could tell it was much more serious. “Sorry doesn’t cut it Peter! Do you know how many times I’ve had to pull you out of these situations? Do you know how many times I’ve had to save your ass from being beaten into the ground? Do you know how much that scares me? I don’t know what’s going on with you Peter but you need to sort this out.”

Your boyfriend flinched at every word you spoke, as if he was being

sprayed by acid. He knew what you were saying was true, but he couldn’t help it.

“Peter, I love you!” You cried out, as he gazed at you intently. “But you can’t keep fighting people over me! Flash is one of my best friends, and to see you both almost kill each other out there breaks my heart! I don’t know what’s gotten into you, but if it keeps happening, I don’t know if I can stay”

This time, Peter’s head snapped up, looking you directly in the eyes. “W-what are you - are you saying?” he whispered, voice low and uneven. He was standing now, and you could see his body shaking.

“I’m saying that maybe…” you sighed, backing away from Peter. “We should…take a break?”

“No!“Peter practically screamed, his voice cracking as he did so.

In the dim light of the bathroom, you could see his eyes glaze over as his body begun to shake. “P-please”

Peter…

“I meant it when I said I was sorry” he tried, his voice betraying him. “I don’t know what came over me, F-flash was just saying these awful things about you, a-about us and I began to doubt myself”

You neared your sobbing boyfriend, immediately feeling guilting for suggesting that you end things. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling his head down to rest on your shoulder as he cried. “T-they say I don’t deserve you, all the guys. T-they say you’re too good for me… and it’s true”.

You stroked his hair softly as he let out his emotions. You never knew that he’d felt this way, that this could have ever been the reason for his outbreak. That Peter Parker was insecure.

Baby no” you whispered but he didn’t stop there.

“You’re the kindest and sweetest soul and I don’t know what I ever did to deserve you. You’ve been with me through everything and I-I’m just… Peter” he hiccuped, pulling away from you with bleary eyes. “P-please don’t leave me, you’re everything I have”

“Peter…” you sighed, holding him close until he’d calmed down. “I-I’ll never leave you, I’m sorry, I’m so so sorry”. You clung to him, trying to tell him that you were there and that you weren’t ever going to let go, you cursed yourself for being such a terrible girlfriend. When you both pulled away, you looked up at Peter, feeling his love for you radiate off of his body. You stood on your tip toes and slowly pressed your lips to his, the taste of his cherry lip balm invading your tongue. His warm and familiar hands snaked their way around your waste, pulling you closer to him. You gripped the collar of his plaid shirt from under his jumper and tugged him towards you, wanting to be as close to him  as possible, wanting him to feel the love you had for him. All of Peter’s insecurities melted away in that moment, he knew that you would never leave him, he knew that you loved him and that none of the other guys meant anything to you, not even Flash.

When you’d both come up for air, a small smile graced your lips. Peter returned your smile, going to bury his head in the crook of your neck again. “I’m so in love with you” he whispered against the  skin of your neck.

“I love you too Pete”

You both stood in silence, holding each other, the only sounds being made were your giggles as Peter pressed kisses to your neck. “I really am sorry about Flash though, I know how much he means to you” Peter spoke, after a few moments.

You rolled your eyes, before ruffling Peter’s hair. “He was an asshole anyways, you’re all that I care about”

You both laughed before you pressed a quick kiss to Peter’s lips, making him blush. “Now we should probably get out of here before people think we’re up to something” you winked at him playfully , as he shook his head at your antics.

Peter only let out a laugh as you pulled away to unlock  the door. You  grinned back at him, admiring his smile, and the way it reached his eyes. You really loved Peter and god help anyone that tried to make your baby insecure again.

(Zimbits, AU, 3.7K, click “read more” for the whole fic.)


Thanks. You can put it on the counter in the kitchen.”

That had been Jack’s first mistake.

It wasn’t so much the words he said, but rather the fact that he’d said them in French.

However, to Jack’s credit, he had been in the middle of revising a chapter when he’d heard the knock on his door, and the fact that he hadn’t had any caffeine yet due to the broken coffee maker had thrown off his entire morning.

He had been expecting Georgia, the lady he rented the cabin from, to be standing on his door step. However, instead of the landlord, he got a blond guy with wide, brown eyes staring back at him.

There was a sort of gurgle of surprise and a nervous giggle from the other guy for a moment before he blurted, “Hi, I’m your new housekeeper!”

Jack raised an eyebrow, but didn’t say anything in his confusion. Francine, Georgia’s wife, usually stopped by once every couple of days to tidy up the place, but neither of the two ladies had mentioned anything about a new hire.

Jack must have been lost in thought for a moment too long because the other guy took this as a sign that Jack didn’t speak English. “Uh, you know, cleaning?” He mimed a sweeping action and then pointed at Jack. “Ummm, je… travaille pour Georgia?” he said in a truly horrendous accent.

Jack gave an impatient nod of his head.

Je m’appelle Eric or you can call me Bitty. Actually, je m’appelle Bitty,” he said proudly with his hand out.

There was something about the other guy’s candidness that made Jack pause, or maybe he had been trapped in a cabin for too long, but he reached out and took the handshake.

It’s nice to meet you,” Jack replied in French.

And that had been his second mistake.

Keep reading

Hogwarts School Uniform

The other day I read a series of posts on the Hogwarts uniform and how book!uniform differs from movie!uniform, which is more canonical and whether there’s been/there should be some retconning to unify the books, films and illustrations from different sources. Since wizarding fashion is one of my favourite subjects (particularly since the word “corsets” was mentioned in HBP), I thought I had to write a post about it. So here it goes.

On tradition and unmuggleness

As much as I like the movie uniforms, the way I see it, they’re irreconcilable with those described in the books, which, both because they’re from the book and because that’s how I see them in my head, I consider canonical. Most people point out as proof of this that in a couple of occasions we are told more or less directly that the basic (I’ll talk more about this later) uniform does not bear any house indicator (see the Penelope Clearwater and Crabbe-and-Goyle’d Ron-and-Harry Cases, both in CoS). This is true. However, what I see as a bigger issue is the fact that the movie!uniform is basically a muggle school uniform with robes instead of a blazer, which, considering how often we see wizards struggling with muggle clothing, doesn’t really add up. And given that school uniforms tend to be on the conservative side of fashion, it would make much more sense to have the Hogwarts uniform resemble traditional wizarding attire.

On openings and trouserslessness

The movie robes are completely open at the front save for one (PoA-onwards) or two (PS-CoS) little clasps, which would take next to no time to do up and undo, so the movie robes would be put on and off like a bathrobe or a coat. However, most (if not all) of the times we see Harry changing into his school robes he’s described as pulling them over his head. To me that implies that the front is not open all the way down, that maybe there’s just a small opening with a few buttons, like a polo shirt. Either that or the robes are open all the way down but fastening and unfastening them is so tedious that students simply never do them up or undo them all the way. In a pre-zipper world, a front opening like that would most probably mean a metric tonne of little buttons, at least (look up some old-timey portraits, particularly of women’s fashion. They took their buttons seriously). No one has time to fiddle with that many buttons, so it would be easier to undo a few of the top ones and pull the robes over your head.

Personally, I think the left-hand version fits the description of “plain black work robes” better. And yes, there’s no indication anywhere in the books that the sleeves are flared or gathered at the top, but they look more wizardy this way, so. 

For an even more undeniable piece of evidence that supports the idea of having a closed front, look no further than Snape’s worst memory in OotP. When he gets levicorpused by James, we see his underwear. He’s not wearing trousers. Wh. Why is he not wearing trousers??? Because there’s no risk of accidental exposure of one’s undergarments when there isn’t a massive opening on the front of one’s robes, that’s why. Also, if for some sinister reason he had not been wearing trousers under open-fronted robes, everybody would’ve been able to see his pants already and it wouldn’t have been “funny” when James revealed them.

Moreover, it seems that trousers, even though they are worn in the wizarding world, are neither required nor part of traditional wizarding attire. See the old man at the Quidditch World Cup. Trousers have been adopted to some extent, but they are not considered wizarding clothing per se, but rather a garment borrowed from muggles. So if we go back to the idea that uniforms tend to be conservative, the Hogwarts uniform would have probably been designed to be worn with no clothes underneath other than underwear.

On hats gone with the wind and cloaks

Hats. “One plain pointed hat (black) for day wear.” Day wear. In the films (PS, basically), hats seem to only be worn on special occasions. And I can understand that; On set they’re probably a huge inconvenience as they like to fall off and have to be touched up constantly and may cover something/someone important. Still, canonically, a pointed black hat for day wear is part of the Hogwarts uniform.

Now, do not quote me on this, but I am positive that in one of the books there is a description of a windy day where students grab the brims of their hats so that they don’t get blown off. That’s the one and only time in the whole series (that I can remember) where the uniform hats are said to be brimmed. It makes sense, though, as traditional witch hats do have a brim. Modest brims seem adequate for uniforms. (I do think it is strange to make students wear hats indoors, but oh well.)

(Edit:  ‘ “Maybe I’ll skive off Divination,” he said glumly as they stood again in the courtyard after lunch, the wind whipping at the hems of robes and brims of hats.’ - OotP, chapter 17)

Then there’s the winter cloaks. Again, plain and black, this time with silver clasps. No crest, no house colours. And there’s also the protective dragonskin gloves, which seem to be used both as protective gloves for Potions/Care of Magical Creatures/Herbology and as regular winter gloves.

On house pride (or the lack thereof)

So far we have established that the uniform consists basically of plain black garments: a set of black robes (closed front), a black cloak, a black hat. Hence, by default, there is no way to tell what house a student belongs to just by their attire. Or is there? Here’s where the “basic uniform” I mentioned  before comes into play.

It is true that the robes, hats and cloaks are plain black when bought. And yet, there are many points in the story when Harry seems to simply know what house some students belong to, even when he clearly doesn’t know them. We get constant references to “a gorup of first year Ravenclaws” or “a Hufflepuff girl”, and since the story is told from Harry’s point of view rather than an omniscient narrator’s, there must be a way for Harry to tell apart people from different houses without knowing them personally. So how can we reconcile the ideas that some people’s house is recognisable at first sight while other people’s isn’t? It’s quite simple: CUSTOMISATION.

Bagdes, scarves, appliques, ribbons, hat ornaments, buttons, socks, belts, and a long etc, to show your house pride. Just as we can get jumpers and hoodies and caps and whatnot with the name and colours of our uni or specific college, kids in the wizarding world are probably able to buy (and make) house merchandise. These items would be available at Diagon Alley and Hogsmeade, and parents would send them to their children once they’ve been sorted or the kids themselves would be able to get them via owl order.

Some students may only wear a small badge on their chest. Others a scarf+turtleneck undershirt+bandana+animal-shaped hat bauble combo. I love to imagine some kids wearing ridiculously tacky things, like red-and-gold neck ruffles or bee-striped boots. And those kids who are not as inclined to show off their house? They can just wear their basic black uniform.  

Aisles [m]

Aisle Three

Summary: Jungkook was your best friend. You held onto his secrets. And he knew all of yours. Except for one. One that would change your friendship forever. You were in love with him.

Pairing: Reader x Jungkook

Genre: bestfriend!au, college!au, angst, smut

Word Count: 5,802

Originally posted by sugutie

Aisle One Aisle Two Aisle Three

Surprisingly, it was easy for you to lie yourself and to everyone around you. Flashing a smile anytime someone around you asked you how you were doing. The layers of concealer under your eyelids hiding more than the lack of sleep. You tried to keep yourself busying, burying yourself under piles of books and notes to occupy your mind with anything but Jungkook and how he wrinkled his nose when he smiled.

 In a very strange way you found solace in the amount of schoolwork that was piling up in the pages of your planner. Exams, research papers, and presentations were keeping you out of the house and inside the walls of the library. You were regretting your schedule for this semester, but with the MCAT looming you couldn’t afford to take any risks. Medical school was the light at the end of the tunnel, and not even a bunny toothed boy was enough to keep you distracted.

 Hoseok however, had a problem with the fact that you should probably start paying rent to the librarian. He missed you, constantly sending you reminders to eat and drink water during the hours you were studying. You had regretted the night you told him that you hadn’t eaten since 7 in the morning and 45 minutes later a freckled teenager came into the library with the largest bag of Chinese takeout you had ever seen. And your name was scribbled on the front.

Y/N 9:35 PM: Hobi, I appreciate the thought but can you please stop sending me food while I am in the library.

Hoseok 9: 47 PM: I’ll stop sending you food when you actually sleep in your bed, for once

Sighing, you throw your phone back down on the table. He had a point. You hadn’t slept underneath sheets in weeks. By the time you got home from school you were too tired to make it your bedroom. Every morning waking up regretting the fact that you had decided to buy the lumpiest couch known to man. You knew that this wouldn’t last. That eventually you wouldn’t be able to hide behind the excuses of academics to avoid having a life. You were going to burn out.

But two days later you found yourself in the same position.

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I give to you the rival sports team Klance AU you never wanted but are getting anyway because I have zero (0) self restraint:

  • I’m gonna say yolo and throw them into college bc college kids always have free time to do competitive sports and get scholarships and stuff so here we ARE in COLLEGE with SWIM TEAMS
  • Keith and Lance go to different schools but have been running into each other at swim meets for months and they’re always neck and neck in their times
  • Lance is the swim captain of his team and they represent the Blue Panthers from the state university and they’re one of the top teams in the league
  • Keith isn’t the swim captain but he’s kind of like the coach of the Red Lions? maybe their actual coach is a flake and someone needed to step in and actually Do Something, so he took over and all his teammates regard him as their coach/teammate duo bc he still swims with them, he just directs them kinda thing?
    • his drills are the most feared thing on the planet and everyone is terrified of Tuesday and Thursday night practices because inevitably Keith will make them do some sort of terrifying equivalent of suicides but in the water and everyone goes home sore and tired 
  • so there’s a championship swim meet out of state and everyone’s been prepping for this for months and it’s a Big One
  • there’s always a pre-party for this kind of stuff, right?? well now there is, fuck it
  • Keith forbids his team to go because they need to be in their best shape for the morning swim trials and if he Hears One Word that any of them were there, someone gonna die
  • inevitably, his team goes lmao
  • he probably was swimming laps before bedtime when he hears the party raging on the floor above his own
    • (he’s an insomniac and has even more trouble when he’s sleeping in a hotel bed and swimming always helps tire him out)
  • annoyed, he goes to investigate and tell them to shut the fuck up bc SOME people have a competition tomorrow and starts banging on the door and Lance opens it with a flourish and a grin
    • Lance: GUYS JOSH IS BACK WITH MORE ICE
    • Lance: ….wait you’re not Josh
    • Keith: oh my god of course it would be you
    • Lance: HEY WHAT’S THAT SUPPOSED TO MEAN
  • they start fighting immediately and then someone slips past the door behind Lance and Keith recognizes that hair and he shoves Lance aside to get into the hotel room and it’s one of his teammates oooooh boy he gon DIE
    • Keith just wordlessly points out the door and the few members of his team file out real fuckin quick bc they know they’re about to be reamed out
    • then Lance pushes Keith’s shoulder and calls him a buzzkill
    • Keith spins around and puts his palm on Lance’s chest and pushes him into the nearest wall and whispers all low and dangerous “I can’t wait to destroy you tomorrow.” then saunters off and calls over his shoulder “Enjoy your hangover!” and Lance is s h o o k
  • needless to say, Lance is hungover the next morning
  • the race is close, but Keith’s team places first and Lance’s second
  • Lance was the last swimmer so he’s hanging off the side of the pool and throws his goggle and cap on the floor and is cursing and wishing he hadn’t been the one to throw that party bc he fucked up and then he hears a small laugh
    • shocker: it’s Keith 
    • Lance goes to glare up at him but Keith just pulled off his swim cap and his hair is tumbling down his shoulders like some brunette Adonis and Lance just gets angrier bc how can this guy be SO GOOD and also disgustingly attractive it’s like God is shitting on him it’s rude 
  • going forward, it’s a total game on vibe with them and it’s such a back and forth between meets and it’s literally neck and neck with both of them pushing their teams harder than ever before and it’s wild
  • then there’s some big rager or kegger at some off-campus house and Keith is dragged out by his teammates as punishment for being such a hardass lately and “this is a great way to pull that stick out of your ass please don’t make me do fifty push ups for saying that okay i’m soRRY” 
  • they walk in to some tall guy doing a hand stand on a keg and chugging upside down and his shirt has fallen down around his neck so he’s just this long, brown, toned stomach
  • Keith’s not blind, okay, so he admires the view but ultimately he’s just like …………….you’re all idiots and goes to leave except the guy gets off and lets out the grossest burp and wipes his face with this huge shit-eating grin
    • shocker: it’s Lance
    • Keith is shook
    • but he’s also immediately on the defensive and ready to fight so he gets all bristly until Lance spots him by the door with his friends and is like “hHEY yOu!” bc he’s loaded and he stumbles into Keith’s chest and pokes his collarbone and smiles even bigger and goes “betcha can’t do a keg stand”
      • shocker again: Keith does it bc who is he to turn down a challenge
  • long story short, they both end up making out in a coat closet and in the morning when they wake up in their respective beds after their friends dragged them home, they both remember it happening and groan and cover their faces with their hands
  • cue the awkward future swim meets and budding romance
  • you’re all welcome
On Talent and Success

Over the last few months, I’ve been noticing something.

I’ve been seeing writers who are less talented than others find more success.

At the same time, I’ve become more aware of talented writers, smart writers, or passionate writers who sort of drift away.

Since I left high school, I’ve come in contact with a lot of people who dream of being writers. And over the years, I’ve seen many educated and intense aspiring authors … just stop pursuing. Sometimes these are people who have all the right personal qualities to succeed. They are sharp, driven, dedicated, passionate, and they have critical thinking skills. Sure, they may need more practice, but that comes with time. Perhaps, though, it is because they are so intense and critical, they stop believing they can succeed. They don’t think they can actually “make it.”

A few weeks ago, I was talking with a family member about the fact that we as human beings often (and sometimes unknowingly) limit ourselves and what we can accomplish. Mentally, almost silently, we think, I can’t do this, and in just believing that, we cut short our abilities. The mental energy we spend thinking about what we can’t do takes away from the mental energy we could use simply pursuing what we want or need to do.

What’s strange is that over time, I’ve seen people who appear to lack a skill or quality find more professional success than their peers. They might win an award. Get a steady readership. Make more professional sales than people of higher writing abilities. I don’t think this is because the world has gone all topsy-turvy. I think it’s because these people don’t limit themselves as much, in that way. Maybe they are blind to their weaknesses, or maybe they aren’t. Whatever the case, they don’t let those weaknesses hold them back. They don’t let fear of not being good enough hold them back.

Lately I’ve been thinking about people I’ve met, in college, in day-to-day life, wherever, and how some could be doing what they dreamed of doing, if they simply pursued it a bit more carefreely as some of the people I meet at writing conferences do. But they never gave themselves permission.

Of course, life happens, and priorities can happen. Everyone writes differently and every writing career is different. I’m not saying we need to run out of our houses and throw crappy first drafts out everywhere. I’m just saying give yourself the permission to jump in. For some, that might mean allowing yourself to begin taking writing seriously–to take yourself serious as a writer. For others it might mean finally submitting a story somewhere. For another, it might mean allowing yourself to self-publish. For someone else it might mean allowing yourself to write and enjoy writing.

On occasions, I have talked to instructors that say the most talented people are the ones who are hardest on themselves. And it makes sense. They have a strong eye for criticism. They expect a lot out of their work. They demand a lot of themselves. And they don’t settle. In contrast, the students who are less talented may be the ones who think they deserve the highest marks in the class. This seems backwards, but it’s often true. This second group ends up pursuing all kinds of avenues, because they believe they deserve it, or simply because they give themselves permission to. They are more likely to find success than the talented person who never submitted, published, or shared anything.

Years ago, a family member and I used to repeat this observation to each other. “Why is so-and-so a bad-a**? Because he thinks he’s a bad-a**.” The idea is that everyone who seems to act like they are awesome and cool are simply that way because they believe they are.

In some sense, that same principle can be applied to other areas. Why is that person a writer? Because she thinks she’s a writer. Why is that person successful? Because he think he’s successful. There are limits to how far this principle can extend, of course, and there are exceptions, but in some ways, following it is like starting on training wheels. It slashes down limits you’ve put on yourself. You are what you are because you believe you are.

Now success might not mean the same thing to everyone. Success to one person might be selling a lot of copies of her book. Success to another person might be being able to write full-time, regardless of exposure. It might be becoming the best current writer in that genre, even if the genre has a small readership, like weird west fiction.

Ideally, we become the best of both groups of students mentioned earlier. People in the first group may need to let themselves take a chance to pursue. People in the second group may need to sharpen their critical eye and dedication, because while they may already have found success, that success will have a ceiling based on their talent.

Whatever kind of writer you hope to be, whether it’s a bestselling, award-winning writer, or fierce fanfiction writer, decide today to give yourself permission to pursue success.

youtube

William Shakespeare- the Bard of Avon, Legendary Wordsmith, was, in all probability, super queer. We’re going to look at the evidence, read some lovely poems, read some raunchy poems, and generally just talk Shakespeare.

Closed Captioning Available 

Transcript below

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3

Alright, HERE we go! Awhile ago I had an idea for a MP100/Voltron crossover, and after mentioning it to @x-i-l-verify​ and loooots of brainstorming later, we have…*gestures vaguely* this. These are more or less screenshot redraws just to kind of get across who is who. :) More info, reasonings and musings under the cut, because well…it got long…

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Long Lasting Lies [p.p]

Originally posted by dailymcugifs

Title: Long Lasting Lies
Fandom: MCU/Spider-Man
Characters: Peter Parker x female!reader, Ned Leeds, May Parker, Michelle, mentions of Tony Stark,
Warnings: mentions of cheating on a partner, description of mugging, mild swearing
Word Count: 3,343
Requested: No, this is just me having major Peter feels at the moment due to me seeing Spider-Man: Homecoming last weekend
Blurb: You, Peter Parker’s girlfriend, have noticed that Peter has distanced himself, and have caught him lying on multiple occasions. When you confront him after being saved by Spider-Man, you are unaware that his excuse is only another one of his lies.
A/N: I have been super busy with exams, school and other personal things, which is why I’ve been so absent, but I’m hoping to update more frequently now that they’re over but I can’t be sure! Remember, I live in Australia where the school year ends in December so we’re only on winter break at the moment. ALSO I ONLY PROOF-READ THIS ONCE I’M SORRY IT’S LITERALLY 1:33AM DON’T KILL ME

Disclaimer: not my gif

[Y/N] = your first name
[L/N] = your last name 


The first time that Peter Parker lied to you was over the phone. You had just gotten ready for the date you had both planned as a post-midterms celebration when the familiar tune of your ringtone graced your ears. At the sight of Peter’s Caller ID, you had managed to grin before picking up. 

“I’m absolutely starving, Parker.” you greeted, taking a seat on your bed and tucking your left leg under your right. “You better have made reservations at the pizza parlour because you know how busy they can get on Fridays,” you added, and when Peter said nothing, you raised an eyebrow. “Peter?” 

“I’m here,” he assured you since it sounded like he wasn’t present in the conversation at all. “I’m here, sorry,” Peter mumbled his apology before taking a deep breath, one that you could hear even over the phone.

“Are you okay?” you inquired, immediately noticing the edge in his voice. “What’s up?”

“I’m so, so incredibly sorry that I’m doing this to you,” was what Peter chose to lead with. “But I can’t make it tonight.” 

For a moment, you the nervous feeling in your stomach turned into disappointment, but you shook it off quickly, knowing that there was always a good reason for Peter’s cancellations. “That’s okay. What came up?” you asked. “Is everything okay?”

“Everything’s fine, don’t worry about it.” something about the way Peter was speaking — perhaps it was the way his usually nonchalant voice seemed strained — made you immediately come to the conclusion that he was lying to you. 

“Peter,” You began slowly, putting a smile on your face, knowing that this would make your voice sound less worried than you truly were. “If there’s something going on, I’m not going to hate you for telling me. I’d really rather know than, well, not know.” you paused, giving Peter a minute.

“It’s nothing, I swear. Just some emergency stuff came up with Ned and I really have to be there for him is all.” Peter lied so smoothly that you almost believed him, but the waver in his voice when he swore he was telling the truth was enough to expose his fibbing.

“Alright,” you allowed yourself to frown. “Well, I hope everything’s okay with Ned. Let me know what happens when you can, okay?”

“Of course, love you!” and with that, Peter hung up the phone. You were sat on your bed for a moment, phone pressed to your cheek before you realised that he was gone. You lowered your phone onto your bed and sighed, glancing around your room, digesting the conversation you had just had with your boyfriend. Things with you and Peter were still relatively new, going on roughly five months, but you had known Peter since the beginning of high school, which was over a year and a half ago. In this time, you had really gotten to know Peter and his quirks, including what he sounded like when he lied.

Deciding that you still deserved some sort of post-midterms treat, you reached for your phone again and dialled Michelle’s phone number as you pulled off your black lace-up heels. 

“Hey, Y/N.” Michelle greeted you, her voice slightly more vibrant than usual. “I thought you were going out with Peter tonight?” 

“I was,” you confirmed, getting to your feet and comfortably pacing your room. “He just cancelled though, so I’m all free! I was wondering if you might accept a stray into your Friday night plans?” you asked hopefully. 

“Well you know how I feel about taking in strays, everyone’s welcome,” Michelle continued your banter. “Actually, Ned and I were just going to get something to eat so why don’t you join us?” This made you frown.

“You’re heading out to eat with Ned? Like, right now?” you questioned slowly, letting it sink in.

“Yeah, we’re on our way out, but we can totally meet up with you! Ned scored us a table at that pizzeria that we all like by promising that we’d be there in at least twenty minutes. Are you up for that?”

You paused. “Yeah, totally.” you agreed. “I’ll meet you guys there. And Ned’s good?” you asked, making sure that you weren’t imagining things.

“He’s pretty jazzed that midterms are over and his deteriorating test-stress has finally been demolished,” Michelle said, and you heard Ned loudly protesting over the phone. “We’re all good. So we’ll see you in twenty?” 

“See you then.” you agreed before bidding Michelle farewell. You hung up and frowned, the idea that you had about Peter lying confirmed. If there was an emergency with Ned, why would he be going out for pizza with Michelle? Suddenly, the combination of your lace camisole top, skinny jeans and leather jacket seemed a little too dressed up just to get pizza with Ned and Michelle. Going on a date with Peter allowed for the camisole and heels, but dinner with friends didn’t seem like it needed as much special effort. 

Frowning, you stripped off the leather jacket and began to rummage through your closet in order to find a replacement for the camisole, choosing a Nasa t-shirt — which you were certain belonged to Peter — and pulled that on instead. You opted for a pair of old sneakers and pulled the jacket back on before grabbing your bag and phone heading out the door to meet your friends.

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anonymous asked:

I often have ideas for a scene or a character but there is no plot. How can I expand these ideas into stories? I just don't know what to do with my ideas to get a story out of them. Most plotting tips require that I know at least the beginning and the end of my story. But I don't even have that.

Hi Anonymous,

I’ve heard of other writers having this same problem, so you are not alone! Here are some ideas that come to mind when I think about this.

Coming up with a Plot (from scratch)

First off, you have ideas for characters or scenes, and that’s a starting point, and you probably (I’m assuming, because it wasn’t that long ago) saw my post, What to Outline When Starting a Story, which can give some guidance on what to consider. However, if you have no idea where to even come up with a concept for your plot that post can only be so much help.

Conflict out of Story Elements

Since you have some ideas about character and scene, I’d try building off that. In some cases, you might need to flesh those out a bit more to continue (I don’t know, since I don’t know how much you have those figured out).New York Times best-selling author David Farland points out in his book Million Dollar Outlines that characters grow out of their setting. We are all influenced by our setting–where we live, where we spend our time, what century we’re part of, etc.

Setting –> Character

Farland goes on to say that out of character (and setting) comes conflict:

Setting + Character –> Conflict

Plot obviously comes from some sort of conflict, the character reacting to and trying to solve that conflict or conflicts. But let’s finish out the diagram/equation.

Setting –> Character –> Conflict –> Theme

How conflicts are dealt with in the story create the theme.

It should be noted though that this diagram may not be helpful to everyone, and it’s also possible to work backwards from it. For example, I personally don’t like the idea of starting with the setting–although, realistically, pretty much all stories start there, if only to the most basic degrees (time period, real world vs. fantasy world, Earth vs. space, etc.). I often like to start with character. But as you work on your character, at some point, you are going to be looking back at what kind of life he grew out of and where he came from, and where he is now. Other people may like to start with conflict, and work back into character and setting. So, it doesn’t have to be linear.

But let’s look at the conflict part. You need some form of conflict to have plot. As I mentioned a few weeks ago in my post Are Your Conflicts Significant? the conflict should either be broad (far-reaching) or personal to the character. If it’s not either, it’s probably not that significant. However, it should be noted that you can make almost any conflict broad, or personal.

But how do you even get to that point? If you like Farland’s diagram, what I would suggest would be looking at those characters and setting. Brainstorm conflicts by asking yourself questions.

  • What conflict can come out of this setting?

For example, in some stories, major conflicts come straight out of the setting. Most if not all dystopians, like The Hunger Games fall into this category. You can even look at movies like Interstellar, which deals largely with space travel. The major conflict came out of a setting (Earth will soon be inhabitable). In a fantasy story, conflicts can come out of the world and worldbuilding (setting), whether it’s the magic system or the world itself. In Lord of the Rings, the major conflicts often come from the setting (Frodo has to make it to Mount Doom) and magic (the One Ring is a magical object that must be destroyed). In historical fiction, it can come out of setting–what are some of the conflicts the world was dealing with during WWII?

But what about something more small-scale than Panem, outer space, and Middle-earth? Setting can play a role there too. What kind of conflicts can come out of attending high school in 2017? What conflicts might be present there? What conflicts might come out of trying to start a career as a woman centuries ago? The story doesn’t have to be epic for this sort of brainstorming to work.

Les Miserableis a good example of how setting can play into conflicts, whether it’s being a struggling young mother, a convict, or participating in politics.

  • What conflict can come out of this character?

Once you have your character, you can try brainstorming conflicts for her. Now, there are sort of two ways to approach this.

One, you look at your character–her personality, strengths, weaknesses–and ask yourself, what would this character want? Figuring out what your character wants is often vital to a good story. In some stories, it can be more simple, basic, or straightforward. Maybe your character just wants money. In other cases, it might be bigger. Maybe your character wants to defeat an evil ruler. It can be somewhat philosophical. Maybe your character dreams of ridding the universe of a false god, like in His Dark Materials.

When you know what your character wants, you can start brainstorming conflicts by considering what could stop her from getting what she wants. In Lord of the Rings, Frodo volunteers to destroy the Ring, but there are literal obstacles in his way. Space, for one thing. He has to travel for miles and miles and miles. Then there are other people and creatures: orcs, Shelob, Sauron, even his own companions–these people are in conflict with him. He has to deal with getting hurt, wounded, and fatigued. All these things are keeping Frodo from his goal. And of course, his ultimate want is to return to the Shire, but he has to destroy the Ring first.

If your character wants to be in a relationship with someone, there are obstacles too. Maybe the love interest doesn’t know he exists. Maybe there is a family feud, like in Romeo and Juliet. Maybe there is a love triangle. Whatever your character wants, you start brainstorming what could keep him from getting it.

A second approach to brainstorming conflicts with character is to look at your character and consider what kind of situations would be difficult for them, what would make them grow. In some cases, they might be the reluctant hero. Love him or hate him, as I mentioned a few weeks ago, Edward Cullen is a good example of this sort of thing. He’s a “vegetarian” vampire living his life, and then out of nowhere, a girl shows up that is basically his personal brand of cocaine. How is he supposed to deal with this? Worse. He has feelings for her. Immediately, Edward is in conflict.

Now, you can combine both methods. And in reality, both those examples have both. Sure, Frodo volunteered to take the Ring, but he was basically the only person who could. But look at him. He’s just a humble hobbit. He doesn’t do magic, he doesn’t know warfare, and he knows very little about the world. But he’s thrown into a situation where those characteristics will be tested. Similarly, Edward is thrown into a situation, but he ends up having wants too. He wants to be in a relationship with Bella. But the fact he is a vampire and she has potent blood is a conflict that impedes that.

So you can brainstorm conflicts from setting and character.

Plot out of Conflict Types

Let’s look at this another way.

There are five types of conflict.

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Something About a Feeling

This is it. My blood, sweat, and tears. It’s been a long time coming with this one, so I want to thank @trulymadlysydney and @outofworkactress for giving me the words I need to hear so I can finally release this into the world. I feel like a mother on their child’s first day of school. It’s a bittersweet feeling. 

In the words of @permanentcross, this is my favorite sandbox to mess with, and the more I try to explain it, the worse it turns out, but simply stated, Harry is infatuated with a girl who would never want him.

I’ve edited this a thousand times, and it’s still not perfect, but if I don’t let this little bird fly away now, it never will. So, please be kind. I’m trying my hardest. x

The first time he sees you, a mere glance from across the room, he has to remind himself he has a girlfriend. A lovely woman, she was, like most of the female counterparts he took in his life, but like most woman he chose to spend his time with, they all had one thing in common. Temporary. He knew he was growing closer to the end with this one; Hannah, a friend of a friend who was easy on the eyes, laughed at his sore attempts at jokes, and quite simply, knew she herself was as temporary as a toothbrush. They’d keep each other company for the time being and a couple of months down the road, they’d part ways, and the rest would be history. Simple as that.

But the first time he sees you, cuddled a little too close to his best mate, peering down at his phone as a small giggle escaped your parted lips, he stops dead in his tracks and backtracks. You were a catch.

Niall had his arm swung behind you, resting carelessly along the wooden seats, and Harry almost digs at himself as he resorts back to their conversation the night before wondering if he had missed the part in text where Niall stated he’d be bringing a female guest of interest. He doesn’t remember anything of the sort, but it doesn’t go unnoticed when he hands his beer out to you, and you instantly wince when the dark lager meets your lips.

Looks like he was playing third wheel tonight.

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Body Language (One Shot)

A/N: This was a request from @ihavetwobuckystomyname a very long time ago, and I’m super sorry that this took so long to write, hun! I hope you enjoy it! There’s a song that goes to this as well and it’s right here if you wanna listen!

Body Language - Reader and Bucky have been in a relationship for a while, and she’s ready to take the relationship to the next level. But Reader has a small problem: she’s deaf. 

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Deaf Reader 

Warnings: Smut. Language. Slight mentions of past neglect. Bucky being adorable. NSFW!

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“It’s February 14th, Neil!”

Nicky was exasperated. It was obvious by the way he looked out of breath even though he was just standing there being rather noisey.

Neil scrunched up his nose. As much as he loved Nicky, he wouldn’t mind hearing him less right now. 

“What’s your point, Nicky?” 

The thing with Nicky, however, was that when you requested a straight answer, you instead got a show. 

Act one of this show was apparently looking around at the rest of the foxes and proclaiming, “Can you believe this kid?!” 

Andrew was coming from his appointment with Bee so wasn’t at the locker rooms yet for practice. Neil found himself silently hoping he would get there faster to shut Nicky up.

Usually everybody would just let Nicky go on his rant, half ignoring him and half egging him on. But when Neil looked past him, he realized that all the Foxes were actually paying attention. Their eyes were focused on Neil with a combination of pity, confusion, and general annoyance. 

Nicky was making a huge fuss now, not actually getting to the point but rather going around it. “Of all the days to not know-”

But Matt cut him off. Which was odd, because Matt usually didn’t cut Nicky off. 

“Neil….do you really not know what today is?”

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You’re In Love With Him But He Likes Your Best Friend: Part 3

Part 1

Part 2

Masterlist linked in bio


“Out!”

It’s the first thing Y/n wakes up to, Savannah’s outraged voice echoing along the walls of Y/n’s bedroom.

Y/n groans, squinting her eyes open at the sudden movement of her bed shaking wildly.

Savannah’s pulling the stranger out of Y/n’s bed, her merciless hands continuously pushing him out the bedroom door. He’s half awake, his slumberous daze making him scramble as he attempts to throw his clothes back on.

“Fuckin’ Jesus” the unknown man grumbles, his eyes still half closed from the immense amount of alcohol he consumed the previous night.

Savannah remains relentless, despite his attempt to get fully dressed. He even falls at one point, when he hops on one foot to get his leg through his jeans, but she doesn’t stop for a second.

You, get out of here!” she demands, her hand giving him one last shove out the door before she slams it shut.

Y/n groans again, her sensitivity to anything other than complete darkness and silence making her throw the duvets over her head and bury her face in her pillow. She’s well aware that she has to embrace the very few seconds she has of total peace and quiet before Savannah begins to lecture her for the irresponsibility she just walked into.

She’s only able to reunite with darkness for a split second before Savannah pulls the covers completely off of her, bringing her back into the horrifying sunlight.

Y/n falls off the bed, letting out a groan as her still slightly intoxicated body makes contact with the wooden floor. Her hungover state is making it nearly impossible to figure out the chaos unraveling in the room; all she can really understand is the pounding in her head and the burning in her eyes every time she exposes them from their lids.

She rolls over onto her back, huffing as her fingers dig into her eyelids. She coughs, her abrupt movements making her stomach flip with every turn she makes. She’s given no time to recover before Savannah rips her arms away from her face, gripping onto her wrists as she pulls Y/n off of the floor.

“What the fuck is going on here, Y/n?!” Savannah yells, eyes glaring at Y/n’s very, very hungover stance.

Y/n nearly trips over her own two feet as she attempts to balance herself after Savannah harshly pulled her up from her collapsed figure. If she had the capability to answer back, she would have, but she’s still fucked up from last night and can barely stomach the sunlight seeping in from the curtains.

“Is this what you’ve been up to?!” Savannah spits, angry laughter tying into her words, “Is this the kind of shit you’ve been doing while cutting everyone off?! Sleeping with random guys?!”

The last thing Savannah expected to see was Y/n in bed with a half-naked man and empty bottles of alcohol scattered across her bedroom floor. It was extremely rare for Y/n to carelessly consume alcohol and have consistent one night stands. Savannah’s witnessed her go through these phases only a handful of times throughout their friendship, all of which stemmed from Y/n’s toxic intolerance of being alone.

She should have seen this coming, though. After finding out she’s been in a relationship with someone Y/n was in love with, the first thing she should have done was check up on her. But there was so much fear holding her back, so much guilt preventing her from confronting her about it.

She wouldn’t know exactly what to say, or how to say it, without making it sound like she was the shittiest friend in the world. She had a feeling Y/n had feelings for Harry, considering she had mentioned him a plethora of times once she met him.

And Savannah still took it upon herself to date Harry, for her own selfish reasons. She never thought that it was the potential reason Y/n was so distant. That thought was the last one in the back of her head, completely throwing her off guard when she found out.

She’s tried to reach out to her multiple times, only to be deliberately ignored and shut down. After a while, she figured all Y/n wanted was space, so she stopped trying for a couple days.

But nothing stopped Harry. He’d spend hours knocking on her front door, on his knees, begging for her to speak to him. He’d call her when he wasn’t near her, because he had driven himself crazy knowing he never told Y/n what he needed to tell her so urgently.

Y/n knew—she knew just how much effort he was putting into seeing her again. She heard him, every day, through her front door, but she never knew what to do. The constant fear that Harry didn’t feel the same way back was all the convincing she needed to never speak to him again.

There’s only so much her heart could break, and she didn’t know how many more times it could before she finally snapped.

Y/n grips her head as she squints her eyes shut, hissing at the throbbing in her head when Savannah’s voice booms throughout the room. The overwhelming migraine taking over Y/n’s head practically forces her to sit on the edge of her bed, the palm of her hands still digging into her eyes.

“Not cutting anyone off,” Y/n mumbles, grumbling when she opens her eyes properly to look at Savannah, “I’m just adjusting.”

It isn’t a lie. Her intention wasn’t to ignore them, not at all. But as time went on, the more her emotions started becoming fragile; one wrong sight would have made her break.

And as stupid as it sounds, having sex was the only time she felt wanted after Harry and Savannah started dating. Even if it was in a drunken state, even if it was just purely for physical pleasure, the hours spent with random men were the only moments she felt purpose.

It was also her biggest distraction. Having one night stands was her emotional outlet, her way of letting out all of her emotions without actually doing so. It sure as hell was better than being alone—anything was.

Savannah sighs, shaking her head softly as she kneels eye level to her. She’d never seen her like this before, so lost and broken. She would have lectured her further if she wanted to because she had every right to smack some sense into her. But after all this time, after all the pain she could only imagine Y/n going through, could she really do that to her? Could she really blame her for doing this to herself?

“Y/n,” she rubs her legs, “I have been the shittiest, most horrible friend to you. I was so selfish and so inconsiderate, and I don’t blame you for not speaking to me these past couple days. But, Y/n, this—” her hands gesture around the horrendous state of her bedroom, “this isn’t adjusting. Having drunk sex isn’t going to rid your feelings for Harry. You’re suppressing your emotions, you’re running away. That’s what you’re doing.”

Y/n’s lips begin to quiver as her eyes well with tears; the first time she’s truly cried since the night she saw Harry at Lexi’s. Savannah feels somewhat relieved when she sees the tears falling from Y/n’s eyes. It isn’t a familiar sight to see, but it shows her that she’s actually accepting what she’s been hiding all along.

“You have to talk to me. I don’t care if you yell at me, Y/n. I don’t care what you do to me, but you have to talk to me. You have to show me something. I can’t be hearing about your feelings from Harry, that’s not fair for anyone.”

“What was I supposed to say?” Y/n whispers, her words breaking beneath cries she so desperately wishes she could stop.

But there’s no going back now. The alcohol is still running in her system and she’s reacting instinctively. There is nothing holding her back, not now.

“How was I supposed to tell him that I was in love with him when I knew he didn’t feel the same way? And how was I supposed to tell you anything about him when I knew this would end up happening anyways?! And what was I supposed to say to the both of you when you both decided to take it upon yourselves to flirt in front of me?!

By now, Y/n’s blood is starting to boil. The words coming out of her mouth are laced with venom, her sudden shift in mood making Savannah swallow thickly. But everything in her is operating a million miles an hour, her words coming out faster than her brain can register. She doesn’t even remember standing up from the bed while she paces around her bedroom, empty bottles rolling around the wooden floor.

“Because no matter what I would have done, it would have ended the same! The way it always does, Savannah! The way it always ends with you getting what I want, even if I want it more—“

“Y/n—"

“Even if I need it! You still get it!”

The harshness in her voice is replaced by violent cries, her words drowned in uncontrollable sobs.

The pain is all over. Everything she’s attempted to numb is now all hitting her at once. All the loneliness, all the anger, all the hurt she’s been burying is now reaching the surface. She can barely breathe, all of the emotions suffocating her, squeezing against her throat.

Savannah is quick to embrace her shaken body, shushing her as her hands rub up and down her back.

A part of her always knew she was the reason Y/n’s love life was barely existent. Although Y/n never admitted it, she drops hints at it every so often. She did notice how all of Y/n’s high school crushes ended up liking her instead, and did notice how whenever Y/n tried to date, she would barely mention them to her. It was as if she was hiding them from her, completely intimidated that Savannah would take away her only chance at a relationship.

And Savannah can’t shake the horrible feeling she has when Y/n admits all of it to her.

Y/n buries her face in her shoulder, her tears soaking through her t-shirt. She wishes she could hold a grudge against Savannah, but she doesn’t have the heart to blame her for anything that’s happened. Everything is because of Y/n, everything happening is because of her fear of emotions and every bit of her has no one else to blame.

“I need him.” Y/n sobs into her shoulder, her hands tugging at the ends of her shirt for some sort of release.

“I need him so much. And I hate it—I hate that I do so m—much.”

“Oh, Y/n.” Savannah kisses her temple, holding her higher against her.

She knows how much Y/n needs him, and knows now more than ever. She was her happiest when she first met him, she was almost an entirely different person. But now, after everything that’s happened, Savannah has never seen her more of a wreck than she is in this moment.

“Let’s sit you down, you need to breathe.”

Y/n whimpers as she’s placed back on the bed, Savannah reminding her to breathe every couple of seconds. She looks at Y/n with sadness in her eyes, comforting her whenever she needs it most.  

“He needs you, too, you know.” Savannah sighs, shaking her head as she takes Y/n’s fidgeting hands into hers.

“I never noticed it until you distanced yourself from us. He didn’t open up to me the way he should have, never talked to me the way he had with you. When I asked him about it—asked him why he wasn’t communicating with me properly, he always mentioned you.”

Y/n flutters her eyes shut, pursing her lips with the slight possibility that Harry may actually feel the same way towards her. There was always a part of her that fully believed the only reason he’s tried so hard to reach her was because he felt guilty for hurting her so much.

But knowing that there’s a chance in Harry reciprocating feelings gives Y/n an overwhelming sensation she’s ever experienced before. It’s the first time in a while there’s a particular type of warmth in her chest, and she swears she begins to tear up from the bit of happiness she’s been missing.

“He would tell me that you were the only one he truly felt comfortable around. Even confessed you were the only one he’d ever be able to talk to, even if we were in a relationship. He was going absolutely mental.”

Savannah sweeps the pad of her thumb under Y/n’s eye, catching the few extra tears that are overflowing. She smiles weakly at her in reassurance, raking her knotted hair between her fingers.

“No matter how much he claimed to like me, he loved you. He’ll always love you. And even when he was completely oblivious, I know now that, deep down, he was always yours. He was never really mine, no matter how much we all thought differently.”

Y/n nods slowly, a small smile tugging at her lips when she hears Savannah’s words. It’s the first sense of hope she’s felt in a while, and it almost completely rids the pain. Almost.

“I’m sorry for ruining your relationship, though. I kind of feel like this is all my fault.”

Savannah laughs softly, finding it almost completely unbelievable that Y/n always finds a way to apologize, even when things aren’t her fault.

“Are you serious, Y/n? Nobody, including me, can love that man half as much as you do. I ruined your relationship. You barely had anything to ruin.”

She runs her hands through Y/n’s hair one last time before patting her shoulder, a smirk growing on her face as she stands up from her kneeling position.

“Now, up you go. I believe you have to talk to someone who’s been dying to see you.”


It’s when Y/n is about to walk out of her door, freshly showered with a new change of clothes, ready to face Harry when she realizes she never said it.

She never fully told Harry she loves him, not when he was conscious, at least. She had felt it for so long, it has taken over her for so long, yet she never told him how she felt. It almost makes her wonder if it’s the reason why he’s been trying so hard for her.

He needs to hear her say it.

“It’s not hard.” She mumbles to herself as she unlocks her front door.

“Not hard, I just have to fucking sa—”

“Y/n!” Harry breathes out, springing from his position on the ground up to his feet.

He twitches when he instinctively brings his hand up to reach for her, but he holds himself back. He isn’t quite sure how far he’ll allow her to go, but if it were up to him, every part of her would be against him. Every single part.

She sucks in a breath, not expecting to see him waiting on her doorstep, and certainly not expecting him to seem so relieved to see her.

“H—Harry,” she whispers hesitantly, “what are you—“

“I’m sorry!” He stutters, interrupting her before she has a chance to finish asking her question.

“I know how inappropriate it is of me to just sit on your doorstep so unexpectedly but I knew Savannah was coming and I thought that maybe this would be the only time I’d get to see you and I was going to come in but some guy came running out of here and I didn’t want to get in between your time with Savannah so I just figured I’d wait until you came back out but I wasn’t sure if you ever would so I just figured I'd—“

He stops rambling when he feels Y/n’s hand on his cheek, her eyes looking at him with so much tenderness he swears his heart melts.

“Catch your breath, Harry.” She mumbles, rubbing her thumb along his cheek, “Just take a breath.”

He inhales sharply as he closes his eyes, turning his head so that her hand is against his lips. He kisses her palm softly before she moves it to play with his unbrushed hair.

His eyes flutter shut at her touch, his body almost completely melting into her. He feels his weakest now more than ever, and he’s never been more relieved to be this close to her again.

“Who was he, Y/n?” he whispers.

“The guy, who ran out of here, who was he?“

As much of a coward as it makes him, the thought of her in bed with someone else physically and mentally pains him more so than he’s ever expected. His head swims with thoughts of her naked, trembling, crying as she devotes her love to some other man, and the more he thinks about it, the more sick his stomach feels.

“Have I been trying for nothing? Have I been wasting my time?”

How could you ever doubt my love for you? is the first thought that comes to her. How could you ever question how much I love you?

Instead of saying the words right at the tip of her tongue, her eyes crease inward, slightly shaking her head as she scrapes her fingertips delicately against his scalp.

“I don’t know, Harry.” she whispers honestly, “I don’t know who he is.”

He nods softly, but nothing in her answer reassures him. He knows there is no other explanation for a guy to run out of her house at nine in the morning without a shirt on.

“May I come in? Wanna talk.” He asks tentatively.

“Of course you can.”

Silence falls between them as they both claim spots on opposite sides of the room. 

There’s a tension in the room they both can’t seem to shake, an unaddressed barrier between them making it nearly impossible to find an appropriate way to start a conversation.

Harry’s the first one to break the silence, however, after a few minutes past of each of them refusing to make any eye contact with each other. 

“Were you ever going to tell me?”

The question caught Y/n’s attention quickly, her head that was once resting in the palm of her hand now up on its own, a small “hm?” parting past her lips.

She’s acting dumb even though she knows exactly what he’s talking about. She just isn’t prepared to answer him, not in the way he wants her to.

“That you’re in love with me. Were you ever going to tell me?”

She shrugs, her teeth biting her bottom lip as she tears her gaze away from his. She isn’t used to confrontation, especially when it involves her emotions. It’s one of her weaknesses, but there’s absolutely no way around this one. Even if there was, she wouldn’t have the audacity to take it. He deserves to know—everything this time.

“I told you before.”

Harry’s jaw clenches, eyes narrowing as he looks at her from across the room. No, he may have been oblivious about her feelings in the beginning, but he sure as hell would never have forgotten it if she told him how she felt.

“Bullshit!” He scoffs. “You didn’t tell me shit! We wouldn’t be here right now if you had told me!”

She sighs, her cheek laying right back down in the palm of her hand, almost as if shying away from him.

“Well, it’s just—you were sleeping.”

Harry stands from his place on the couch, face scrunching in aggravation as his hands rub up and down his face.

“You’re kidding me, right? You have to be fucking kidding me right now!”

His fingers harshly grip the roots of his hair before stomping is way towards her. If he doesn’t get any answers out of her, he swears he’ll lose his goddamn mind.

His hands grip the sides of her face, squeezing her jaw between his hands as he looks at her bewildered.

“I need answers, Y/n. I don’t think you understand how many fucking answers I need right now.”

He speaks through clenched teeth and a tightened jaw, frustration boiling in his blood as she gives him the outright most ambiguous and outrageous answers he’s ever heard in his life.

Y/n places her hands on top of his, her fingernails digging gently into his skin. Despite the harshness of his stare, this is the first time she’s seen him in weeks, and she still finds him to be the most beautiful sight she’s ever seen.

“It was the night after I drove you back from Lexi’s, when you and Savannah were kind of going through that rough patch.”

He falls to his knees in between her legs, an almost unnoticeable smile tugging at his lips from the memories of that night. Because although Savannah had left him by himself, he had a night with Y/n that changed him forever.

"You fell asleep on me, after you told me you were still going to fight for her. That was probably one of the worst things you could have said to me, but you didn’t know, and I was angry at myself for not telling you sooner. I didn’t know how else to tell you unless you were—you were sleeping.”

His hand reaches up to her lips, his thumb tracing along the outlines of her mouth once she’s done speaking. No matter how much she confuses him, and no matter how fucking angry she makes him, he wouldn’t want to be staring at anybody else right now.

“I loved you then, too” he whispers, “I didn’t know it. I didn’t know anything until you left me. I knew you meant everything to me, I knew you were the only one I trusted so deeply. But the second I lost you, I felt empty.”

He presses his forehead against her collar bones, her heart beating quickly against his neck. She sighs, her fingers intertwining with his against her lap as her hips slide more towards the edge, her knees supporting the sides of his chest.

“Didn’t matter that I had Savannah. She was lovely, don’t get me wrong, but she wasn’t you. I tried so hard to make myself believe I was just missing you as a friend, but there was nothing that convinced me.”

His tearful eyes looked into hers, both chuckling slightly at their current state. They’re both crying, both their hearts racing in their chests. If someone were to tell them now that there’s a feeling even remotely close to how beautiful they feel now, together, they wouldn’t have believed it for a second.

Y/n wipes away the loose tears on his cheeks while she sniffles, giggling softly at how stupid they probably look.

“I’ve always loved you, Harry,” she whispers, “there’ll never be a time that I stop. No matter how hard I try, my love for you is stronger.”

It’s when the words fall from her lips that Harry realizes all he needed was for her to hear her say it. Her voice is so sweet as she says it, too, and her eyes leave no trace out doubt when she looks into him.

He tries to hold back the irresistible urge to kiss her, but it’s completely impossible. His lips press feverishly against hers, both of them releasing moans at just how right it feels to be kissing one another. Their kiss isn’t the slightest bit romantic. It’s harsh, it’s desperate, it’s messy but it’s just what they need.

Harry crawls on top of her, his hands on every part of her they can touch. He groans when he feels her nails scratch down his back, leaving her giggling underneath him.

“Mine.” He growls, his thumb putting pressure right underneath her chin.

He admires her face, the glorious look of her swollen lips, wet eyes, and pink cheeks. It’s the most beautiful sight he’s ever seen. A soft whimper leaves her lips, craving nothing more than to feel his lips against hers again.

“These lips are mine. All of you—all of you is mine. No other fucking wanker gets you the way I do.”

She smirks, her eyes half-lidded.

“‘m not allowed to sleep with random guys but you’re allowed to fuck my best friend?”

He presses his lips against her again, his hands brushing loose strands of hair away from her face as he does so.

“Never fucked her,” He mumbles against her lips, “couldn’t get you off my mind.”

Y/n rolls over so that she’s on top of Harry, her legs on either side of his waist as her hands roam his chest through his t-shirt. He looks priceless like this, weak and breathless underneath her as her hands grip the sides of his face.

“The prettiest man I’ve ever seen.”

He blushes, his bottom lip in between his teeth as he sends her the biggest grin she’s ever seen on him. His eyes are full of love, too, and Y/n swears every breath she had the chance to take has been knocked right out of her.

“Nobody makes me feel the way you do, Y/n. Nobody.