the real question: who did i draw with my other hand

anonymous asked:

Please please share your thoughts on Wonder Woman? Thank you! :)

ANYONE WHO WATCHED WONDER WOMAN (2017) DIR. PATTY JENKINS AND WASN’T COMPLETELY IN LOVE IS NOT TO BE TRUSTED

Some thoughts:

  • So we all knew it was going to be emotional to FINALLY have a female superhero movie, but the movie exceeded those expectations. The fight scenes were incredible and so focused on Diana and what she was capable of – the men basically weren’t even there. The fuckin no man’s land scene SAVED MY LIFE. Superhero movies are known for being heavy handed and this one didn’t escape that for sure (the love speech at the end was….a lot), but that scene was so well done…they didn’t have to stoop to some Éowyn knock off line of “I am no man,” we were allowed to just see her do what real women do - step up and do it. Even though that wasn’t the first time we’ve seen her in full Wonder Woman costume on screen, it felt like it was, like it was the first time I’d EVER seen ANY hero before and it took my breath away. By far the best Superhero Reveal Moment I’ve ever seen. My girl taking out bullets right and left, drawing fire from the entire German army!! Fuck me up!!!
  • You can’t talk about this film without talking about gender role reversals. Chris Pine was So Perfect and I think they really couldn’t have pulled the movie off if they’d cast any other white boy in the role. He was funny but genuine, capable but never arrogant, charming but not entitled about it. He learned quickly what Diana was capable of and respected her for it, always moving to the sideline during the fight scenes (the shield moment with the bell tower comes to mind - who needs a sniper when you can fuckin launch a god at the shooter??), knowing that these were her fights and never trying to mansplain her out of them. He wanted to protect her, but didn’t underestimate her - all the things that a typical female romantic interest does in these kind of movies. It was amazingly well balanced, so much so that I didn’t even mind the romantic sub plot. Plus he was almost entirely naked there, way to play to the audience my dudes!!!!
  • The historical context did the movie such a great service. The outward displays of sexism became so ridiculous when faced with Diana, who genuinely had never had to deal with the patriarchy’s bullshit before. It didn’t just make the men in London look pathetic and mean, it cast a large shadow over the way that women are treated today. 
  • The Dark DC Gradient™ on all the shots isn’t my favorite but it did Chris Pine’s fuckin bright blue eyes a huge favor
  • Gal Gadot was so fuckin good??? Not only was she beautiful, like really really distractingly beautiful, like I kept having to force myself to pay attention to the dialogue cause I, like Steve Trevor, could not stop looking at her (and she’s standing next to Genuine Stud Chris Pine and still?? SHE’S SO BEAUTIFUL). But she was way more then that, her performance was spot on. Diana was naive, commanding, strong, compassionate - while never being reduced down to just a one note version of these things. She felt so real to me, in a genre that spends very little time on character development. Even in the sappiest parts of the script, she sold it. She absolutely sparkled. 
  • Some of the best dialogue was the back and forth between Diana and Steve when she’s asking questions about mankind/London - it was cute and funny without being too overdone or obvious, which it easily could have been
  • The villains weren’t much to write home about, but they didn’t need to be. The movie was so laser focused on Diana and Steve that they really didn’t matter, you could self insert whatever you wanted to there
  • Themyscira is the ideal for I too want to hang out on the beach and never see a man again
  • Also that lesbian line, and how stupid male reviewers blindly did not understand it!!! Fuckin drag em
  • But also the fight scenes on Themyscira were INCREDIBLE. I wish that first section had been a bit longer just because I was enjoying it so much, but it was so refreshing to see all women on screen - women who fought and loved and supported each other. Incredible. 

I haven’t enjoyed, really enjoyed, to the point of not having to think about the message or the structure or how much fuckin time I’ve wasted listening to some male superhero talk about honor or some equally boring garbage, since The Avengers came out in 2012. Even then, Wonder Woman felt like something else entirely. It leaned on many of the same tropes and sequences, but there was enough reinvention in between (particularly the characters, who I felt were much more fleshed out then any superhero movie I’ve seen before) to make it feel fresh and exciting. This so easily could have been a throw away movie, a chance for movie execs to point and say, hey we tried with women that one time!! But Patty Jenkins, and Gal Gadot, and all the other women who worked on this incredible production, knew what was at stake, and weren’t going to let that happen. Every time I see a little girl dressed up as Diana Prince, on her way to the theater, my heart fills more and more. During the film, I found myself on the verge of tears five or six times - sometimes because it was so beautiful, to see a woman who felt so real being strong and vulnerable and saving the damn world, but other times because the plot itself genuinely moved me. Wonder Woman is revolutionary for the industry, sure, but more importantly, it’s just a damn good movie. 

Yuri on Ice interview translation - CREA 2017/03 (p32-33)

This is the full interview with Mitsurou Kubo published on CREA. I actually wanted to translate all the YOI interviews together but some translations going around urged me to post this one before the others, as I wouldn’t be able to finish everything tonight.

It’s not really an interview, it’s more like a partial interview and a short commentary of each episode.

The other 4 short interviews are with Kenji Miyamoto (choreographer), Eiji Abiko & Junpei Tatenaka (figure skating animators), Yuuko Sagiri (original costume designer), Keisuke Tominaga (music producer). I will try to post them tomorrow night if I can finish them.

***If you wish to share this translation please do it by reblogging or posting a link to it***

***Re-translating into other languages is ok but please mention that this post is the source***


The reality as expressed by 5 people who created “Yuri on Ice”

Reality #1: Story x Mitsurou Kubo

“The reality of emotions” is what Kubo-san gave most importance to when she created the manga storyboard for this series. “Simply listing up the contents of the skaters’ programs and their score and connecting them together is not going to create something emotional. In my storyboard I tried to convey the feelings of all athletes, not just Yuuri, with their performances, to express them carefully, so that other skaters who watch them will in turn be influenced by them like in a chain reaction.”
An important tool to express those feelings are the monologues that can be heard during the programs, blended in harmony with the performance.
“Watching the footage of the choreographies by Kenji Miyamoto-sensei I realized that, even though he simply created them based on the songs, in many cases they perfectly match the athlete’s feelings too. I was so moved and thought that Kenji-sensei is an amazing person.”
As the series is pursuing reality, it does not contain any unrealistic techniques.
“If we had included something over-the-top people would have just said ‘that’s unreal’, so I thought that it was better to just go a little ahead of reality, and consulted with many people to decide the difficulty of the techniques to use. However, shortly thereafter real life skaters actually surpassed that level, which really surprised me. We did decide the level knowing that it would be surpassed one day, but we didn’t think it would happen so soon!”
The writer Mitsurou Kubo also needed a lot of courage to portray Yuuri determined to win for love.
“On the ice rink you can express anything, and that’s why, even if I had never thought about what true love is or represented it before, I decided to try my hand at openly depicting love as fiction. As a result, I myself was encouraged by the story I wrote and felt that I could make a fresh start after that.”

“I ended up being encouraged by the story about love that I openly portrayed as fiction.”

Highlights of every episode by Mitsurou Kubo

#1 Nan no Piroshiki!! Namida no Grand Prix Final
“I want you to watch the best figure skating animation”
Before the series was broadcasted I was worried, because normally original anime not based on a previous work and airing late at night take a long time to catch the viewers’ attention. However, my fear was swept away by the extraordinary skating scenes of the first episode, and the show gained a good reputation right away. Stunning images can provide the best promotion.

#2 Futari no Yuri!? Yutopia no Ran
“Figure skaters feeling more familiar”
This part is set during the off-season in Yuuri’s hometown. If we had showed special people battling each other in a faraway place from the very start the viewers would never have felt close to them, therefore I decided to start the story with the Russians, Victor and Yurio, spending time in the onsen of the castle town Hasetsu, eating katsudon and spreading news via the SNS, so that they would feel more familiar to the audience.

#3 Boku ga Eros de Eros ga Boku de!? Taiketsu! Onsen on ICE
“You can feel the growth of Yuuri and Yurio”
Once the Grand Prix series starts no one can afford to lose anymore, so I created this provisional match between Yuuri and Yurio to emphasize their relationship as rivals but also as comrades. I also wanted to show that a competitive program is progressively brushed up during the season based on each athlete’s pace. Originally I also thought of showing Yurio’s mother rushing to the scene.

#4 Jibun wo Suki ni Natte… Kansei!! Free Program
“Yuuri and Victor gradually become closer”
In the process of completing the free skating program Yuuri and Victor become closer to each other, both as coach and student and as equals. Yuuri’s gesture of poking the top of Victor’s head has no logical meaning. I think it symbolizes how Yuuri, acting on an impulse, breaks his own shell and steps into the territory of the person that previously was only considered a living legend.

#5 Kao Makka!! Shosen Da yo! Chuu-shikoku-kyuushuu Senshuken Taikai
“Check out the relationship between seniors and juniors”
Minami-kun, a skater that looks up to Yuuri, appears in this episode. I really like the scene where Yuuri, finally becoming aware that he is going to lead the current generation of Japanese skaters, silently hits Minami-kun’s back. As in the scene where he pokes Victor’s head, once again Yuuri uses a physical action, instead of logic or words, to try to communicate something. When it’s animated it looks really awesome.

#6 Kaimaku Grand Prix Series Yacchaina!! Chuugoku Taikai SP
“Check out Chris’ sexiness”
The tournament starts and many fascinating athletes make their appearances, but this episode is also an occasion to fully enjoy the charm of Chris’ ass. After watching Kenji-sensei’s choreography I decided to draw a beautiful ass in my storyboard, then its charm was further emphasized in the animation, and finally thanks to the voice actor’s absolutely sexy voice we could obtain the best ass animation ever.

#7 Kaimaku Grand Prix Series Yacchaina!! Chuugoku Taikai FS
“An FSP where Yuuri and Victor overcome their fears”
Yuuri and Victor were both anxious before the FS, and I feel that the strongly emotional scenes following that were represented in a very effective way. Regarding the last scene, I started receiving lots of questions from overseas, asking “Did Yuuri and Victor hug? Or was it a kiss?” and that’s when I realized how much the anime’s popularity had spread worldwide.

#8 Yuuri VS Yuri Osoroshia!! Russia Taikai SP
“JJ’s striking appearance is a must see”
This episode is where Jean-Jacques Leroy, aka JJ, one of the most likely candidates to win the gold medal, appears. What is scary about JJ is that he has the ability to paint any story in JJ color, overshadowing even the protagonist. Mamoru Miyano-san, the one who played his role, managed to take JJ to the next level with his natural personality and made him all the more convincing.

#9 Yuuri VS Yuri Osoroshia!! Russia Taikai FS
“When the absence of an important person makes you grow”
This episode is where Yuuri grows after fighting without Victor next to him. When we went location hunting at the Fukuoka airport there was a glassed-in corridor close to the arrival lobby, and as the director saw it she excitedly said “Yuuri and Victor are going to run side by side separated by the glass!”. I was like “they definitely are!”, and we started taking heaps of pictures. The airport is currently being remodeled and it’s not possible to recreate the scene.

#10 Chou Ganbaranba! Grand Prix Final Chokuzen Special
“Ordinary life episode the night before the last fight”
As the last part depicting ordinary life before the Grand Prix Final, I wanted to create a relaxing episode without skating scenes while at the same time introducing the athletes, but in the end so many things happened in it that no one could relax and I was told that even animating it was a pain. The ring Yuuri gave Victor also carries the meaning of a symbol that the two of them are like soul mates.

#11 Chou Chou Ganbaranba!! Grand Prix Final SP
“The speed leading to the last episode is impressive to watch”
The OP footage, that was gradually changed from episode 1 by adding colors, is finally complete. I was happy that we could welcome as voice actors Ken Gamada-san, who actually works as an MC in tournaments and ice shows, and Nobunari Oda-san as himself doing the commentary. With the pace of the story speeding up toward the finale, this episode was just chaos.

#12 Chou Chou Chou Ganbaranba!!! Grand Prix Final FS
“A final episode where you can catch a glimpse of everyone’s future”
Including Stéphane Lambiel-san’s debut as an anime seiyuu, which is something no one could have expected, the chaotic mixup of anime and reality reaches a climax in this episode. Beside the sense of fulfillment for the victory, I think that the contents also let you catch a glimpse of each character’s future. I was about to faint looking at the beauty of Victor’s tears.


Final note (this is just my opinion, it’s not part of the translation): There is a translation going around where the line about soul mates is translated as “proof”, but actually the word 証 (akashi) can have many different meanings, among which symbol/mark/token/proof/sign etc. In this case, I personally do not think it means “proof” (also to be honest when it’s “proof” usually they write it as 証拠 shouko). It’s more like symbol/token, as in “it’s meant to symbolize Yuuri and Victor’s deep bond that goes beyond a normal relationship”. Although the difference is only subtle, I still think it’s not the same. Also please understand that the Japanese word “soul mate” does not have the meaning that is used in fanfiction… I believe it’s actually the same in English too, but in normal conversation it means “two people that have a strong spiritual/emotional bond (that makes them suited for each other, be it either as friends or lovers)”, not “two people who were destined to be together from their previous life”. That is something you are free to imagine or fantasize about, however please do not twist the creators’ words just to fit people’s headcanons…

P.S.: And please do not misunderstand me. I love Victuuri, but I prefer to draw a line between canon and fanon, and I don’t really like it when words by the creators are “adapted” to accomodate people’s shipping ideas. I think what she says is deep enough even without mistranslating it anyway…

                                                  How to Open the Veil


The Veil is what separates our physical realm from the spirit world. By opening it, we’re able to communicate more freely with spirits. Essentially, you’ll be making a door and opening it in order to reach the spirit realm. 

Disclaimer: I’m not an expert at this, please don’t take my word as the final say. I just started practicing this technique and was taught by a close friend. Always be safe when you practice because if you’re not careful, you can get into some shit. I’m writing this post by popular demand. 


STEP 1: BE SAFE. The picture above is a little preview of the layout I used in my own dorm room. It’s hard to see, but I first drew a chalk circle and sprinkled black salt all along the edges of said circle. I also put four crystals at each end to mark it. Why do I have so much shit everywhere?? Because I don’t want anything to come through the door I created and cause problems. This circle keeps unwanted spirits out. (Granted, you don’t have to use as many things as I did. I find that a physical circle is just easier to visualize.) You can also use candles or anything else that works for you!

STEP 2: MARK THE DOOR. I used sun and moon candle holders with electric candles in them (since I live in a dorm and can’t use real candles). I set them apart from each other, like I was making, well, a door. Then I used some Super-Moon water to draw a line between the two candle holders to amplify my energy. Finally, I also sprinkled a line of black salt to stop unwanted and harmful spirits from coming through the door. 

STEP 3: RELAX. Get into the state of mind you need to be in to do witchy stuff. Meditation, grounding, singing–whatever you need to do to access your energy. 

STEP 4: STRETCH YOUR ENERGY. Whenever you feel ready, slowly pool energy into you palms. Then push it through the marked entrance where your door is going to be, imagining it as a thread, string, or cord connecting to the spirit realm. This might be difficult, especially if the veil isn’t exactly thin where you’re at. You may feel your energy bounce back, or that you’re hitting a wall. If you do, don’t worry! You can always pull back, gather your energy, and try again. 

STEP 5: CREATE A BRIDGE. You’ll know the moment when your energy connects to the spirit realm. It feels different for every person–for me, it’s almost like this tug in my gut and the feeling of a thread connecting my hands and body to something else. Once you feel that, it’s really up to you on how you want to create the bridge! For me, what works best is when I imagine myself walking across the thread of my energy towards the spirit realm. As I walk, my energy begins to create the bridge. There might be another door on the other side once you cross the bridge (it’s really up to how you visualize). If there is, open it. 

STEP 6: OPEN THE DOOR. Once you’ve made the bridge, feel and hold on to that connection. Then, imagine a door leading to the bridge through the physical boundaries you created earlier. This door can look however you like–whatever’s easiest for you to imagine! Then, use your energy to pry open the door. After that…

Congrats! You’ve successfully opened a door to the spirit realm! You should be able to feel the difference in energies. It’s kind of hard to explain how it feels–almost like this vast, empty expanse and the chattering of lots of different spirits floating around. 

When you’re done…

CLOSE THE DOOR. If you invited any spirits in to chat, say goodbye to the spirit(s) that you communicated with and ask them to leave. Make sure they leave before you close the door. If they refuse to, you might have to force them via your own energy (obviously, this is in the worst of situations. Try not to be rude if possible!). We’ve had to do this before and it’s not the most pleasant thing (haha). 

To close the door, pull your energy out from the spirit realm. Imagine that bridge you created crumbling, until you can no longer feel that connection. Once you’re out, close the door, seal it up, and do anything else that feels necessary in order to break the opening. For me, I usually make a breaking motion with my hands to signify the cut-off connection. You can chant or say an incantation if you like as well. This is important, because you definitely don’t want to leave a door open for spirit to come through willy nilly!  


                                                          Other Info

  • PLEASE BE CAREFUL!! If you’re not cautious, some bad spirits might be able to get through and that’s never fun. If possible, try this first with someone else (preferably someone who knows more of what they’re doing). If you can’t, make sure you have multiple backups, wards, and other witchy things to keep bad spirits at bay. 
  • If you want to invite a spirit to chat, it’s probably a good idea to have an offering around, just to be polite. Tarot cards, pendulums, etc. are pretty awesome tools to use if you’re not great at telepathic communication!
  • Take everything spirits say with a grain of salt. They can lie just like people. 

I hope this was helpful to those that asked! If anyone wants to add anything, feel free to. I’m by no means an expert, so if someone wants to add their expertise advise please do! If something doesn’t feel right, go with your gut–never do something you’re not comfortable with. 

Be safe, fellow spirit workers and witches!

-Llama

His || Jungkook || 0.12

Member: Jungkook x Reader

Type: Angst, Fluff, Smut.

Teaser | 0.1 | 0.2 | 0.3 | 0.4 | 0.5 | 0.6 | 0.7 | 0.8 | 0.9 | 0.10 | 0.11 | 0.12

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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.

anonymous asked:

What if Harry went really rough on YN last night and she keeps saying she's fine but the wobbles and marks say otherwise

Harry would be so fucking smug about it.

The next morning she swings her legs off the bed, rubbing at her eyes with the palms of her hands and stifling a huge yawn, thumbing over the deep purple bite marks scattered across her thighs and smoothing her fingertips over the bruises on her hips, remembering how hard he’d gripped them.

There’s a dull, satisfying throbbing in between Y/N’s legs, pulsing so deep it laps at the pit of her stomach. It’s like he’s still balls deep inside her, tucked up into her tummy with his sweaty hips spreading her fleshy thighs open, slamming her into another dimension. It paints a small, fulfilled smile across her tinted lips, making her feel all warm and bubbly inside.

“Y'look hot like that.”

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The Unspoken Game

A/N: So like said before I wasn’t ever going to post this because this was orginally for Chloe who’s been a little ran down lately. So no judgements ! This is a Thomas fic WHO I’VE NEVER WRITTEN ABOUT EVER ! BE PROUD OF ME LOL ! I hope you all enjoy this as much as I know that Chloe did !

Dedicated to: @writing-obrien

Warning: God, the smut tho. I’m just be warned.

Word count: 2714

Originally posted by space-ing-out

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That Was Not Acting - Cody Christian imagine

Summary: Y/n is an actress, she stars as Theo’s beta on Teen Wolf and has been for the past 1 ½ years. Her character Rebecca is required to have a steamy make out session with Theo leading into other things. No one knows that both Y/n and Cody are actually in a serious relationship until now.

Warning: Steamy make out sesh,kinda fluff and suggested smut.

A/N: gif credit to their respected owners ps ignore the fact i used Scallison as a gif it was the closest to my imagination XD

Originally posted by asplittingoffrerard

MASTERLIST


The day started like any other I arrived on set at a quarter to 8 as I always did, as usual Shelley and Tyler were on set first. I parked my car,grabbed my phone and bag then made my way out locked the car and went on with my way.

“Hey Y/n,on time as usual” Tyler greeted “that’s my girl” Shelley embraced me sweetly “So whatcha wanna do till showtime?” I asked “I dunno how bout pull a prank?” Tyler smirked wickedly “yes totally” Shelley moved her hands like a wicked scientist “but who?” I wondered “well we’ve done Dylan,Sprayberry,Ryan,Victoria-” Tyler began but Shelley cut him off “Khylin,Michael, Ian,J.R,Melissa,Holland,Each other” I pondered “Cody..we haven’t done Cody” I smiled nervously “that’s so true” Tyler exclaimed “let’s get a move on it he gets here by before 9″ Shelley expressed.

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Downsized

Title: Downsized

Summary: You always knew life with the Winchesters was crazy. But when Sam brings back home a three-year-old Dean, you begin to question your own sanity…

Author: deanssweetheart23

Characters: Dean Winchester x reader, Sam Winchester

Word count: 2163

Warnings: Some language. Fluff and crack. Crack and fluff. Mentions of sex because Dean’s a cheeky bastard. That’s all I think.

Author’s Notes: This is my submission for @trexrambling and @wheresthekillswitch “Crack Challenge”. Ladies, thank you so much for letting me participate, this has been one very interesting ride. 

Special thank you to my amazing twin @ravengirl94 for coming up with a very important (and hilarious) detail about this. And for putting up with my whiny self. She’s a hero, really.

Now, my prompt for this was “I’ll give you three seconds to stop doing that” and is included in bold in the text below. Honestly, this is my first time doing something like this but I think I like what I’ve got. 

Without further ado. Enjoy <3 

Originally posted by demondetoxmanual


16:30

Silence.

You hated the silence.

You’ve always hated it, ever since you were a kid, but now, after you’ve spent years of your life filled with noise and cries and laughter, filled with arguments and bickering about whose turn it was to go for a supply run, or short, angry snarls and whispered promises in a dark room when it was just you and Dean, that absence of sound, of speech, made everything worse.

16:45

You stared at the clock on the wall and bit on your bottom lip hard enough to draw blood.

Something was wrong. You could feel it. You didn’t know how, or why –the details weren’t important anyway. What really mattered was that Dean hadn’t called since that morning and that sickening feeling in the pit of your stomach that just wouldn’t go away.

Maybe you should just-

The sound of the bunker’s door being opened then closed interrupted your thoughts and, before you knew it, you were practically running towards the library, eyes wide and senses alert, until your leg gave out and you stumbled into the doorframe, muttering expletives under your breath. 

“Hi there, Y/N.” Sam greeted you with an amused smile. “I’m glad you’re so happy to see me.”

“Oh, shut up. I was worried. How did the hunt go? Why didn’t you call? Are you injured? Where is-”

“Hey,” the youngest Winchester chuckled, all delight and waggishness, “one question at a time, champ.”

Rolling your eyes, you raised an eyebrow in suspicion; despite his playfulness and confident swagger, you could see the way his smile seemed a bit too forced and his forehead puckered just a tiny little bit.

“Where is Dean?”

“Um,” he started, rocking back and forth on his heels, “about that.”

“Sam.” you tried again, a bit more forceful. “Where is Dean?”

And then, right before he could actually reply, a little kid with blonde hair and green eyes gripped on Sam’s leg and swam into view, wearing what was supposed to be one of Dean’s shirts and, oh, God, this was not happening.

“Is that-

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Am I Beautiful?

No one knew why Lance wore a mask; they just accepted the fact that he did. He had been wearing the mask since they first met him at the Garrison. It just became a part of him; if the officials at the Garrison had no problem with it, then why should they? Which brings us to the next point; when they said mask, they didn’t mean an imaginary mask that concealed his real emotions or feelings; they meant a physical mask, snow white with only tiny blank eye holes and a straight line for a mouth. It wasn’t like the team didn’t give Lance the space he deserved, he probably experienced something if wearing a mask was his only option, but you have to admit that most people would be drowning in curiosity too. No matter what anyone did, they never were able to find Lance without his mask on, so they let him be. That is until they weren’t able to avoid it anymore.
They knew that eventually, the mask would have to come off; whether it be by the boy’s own will, a mistake during training, or a curious teammate pulling it off. What they didn’t expect was a Galra’s fist cracking through his helmet’s visor and mask splitting it down the middle, while infiltrating a small Galran outpost. Before Keith and Hunk could catch a glimpse, Lance’s hand shot up pressing both halves into his face, the other shooting the Galra in the gut effectively taking him down. Without further comment, he started making his way back to the lions, the sound of Pidge’s voice confirming that they got all the available information downloaded to the Castle. The two other paladins glanced at each other for a second before quickly following Lance down the way they came.
“Guys, is everything okay? We heard something shatter,” Shiro asked from the coms.
“We’re good, a Galra got Lance in the face, his visor and mask are cracked,” Keith replied after he realized that Lance wasn’t going to answer.
“WHAT! Lance doesn’t have a mask on!?” Pidge screeched in their ears. “Ohh, this is so good,” she giggled. Keith and Hunk saw Lance’s shoulders draw up towards his ears.
“I still have my mask Pidge,” Lance muttered.
“Aww, I thought I was finally going to see your face,” she replied, you could practically see the pout in her voice. Lance only laughed bitterly in response.
“Trust me, you really wouldn’t want to,” his shoulders slumped down weakly. The silence was thick as they boarded the lions and took off toward the Castle. The coms crackled to life and Shiro’s voice drifted through Lance’s ear.
“Lance… what did you mean when you said we wouldn’t want to see your face?” Lance let out a sigh, pulling the mask shards away from his face after making sure his face camera was off.
“I.. because, I’m ugly,” he mumbled. “My family put this mask over my face because they said that I was hideous, and I don’t deserve to be seen,” He raked a hand through his hair. “I’ve been wearing this mask since I was a little kid, I’ve never even looked in a mirror,” he admitted.
“Your family is full of crap Lance!” Pidge yelled over the line. Lance flinched back from the voice and squeezed his eyes tightly. He nervously rung his hands together in front of him, when did they start shaking?
“I know,” he said a tremor in his voice. “I’m scared you’ll hate me though,”
A mix of disapproving sounds rung out from the coms as his teammates tried to reassure the blue paladin. Lance angrily swiped at his eyes, tears of stress leaking from the corners of his eyes.
“Do you really think so lowly of us?” Shiro’s voice asked making the others go silent. Lance let out a gasp and his hand fell limply to the side as he tried to understand what or why Shiro asked that question.
“Of course not! I could never think lowly of you guys,” he whimpered out. “It’s me, it’s always just been me,” His lips trembled as he shut his mouth to try and stop the sobs that were beginning to crawl up his throat.
“Do you think I’m ugly Lance?” Shiro asked quietly. “Because I think I am, I think that there was too much of me taken away to ever be beautiful again,”
“You’re not ugly Shiro; you’re a hero, you’re kind and brave, someone like you could never be ugly!” He responded adamantly. “Your scars prove what you’ve been through, they prove that you were strong enough to overcome the Galra, even when they took so much from you; don’t ever say that you’re ugly because you’re not!”
“Do you think I’m ugly?” Hunk asked a moment later. “I’m fat and cowardly, I would rather run than fight, I don’t think that I’m beautiful,”
“You are beautiful Hunk! You’re strong when others are weak, you never back out of a fight when you get into it, you’re smart and generous, and you give the best hugs,” Lance cried; not believing what he was hearing from his teammates. “You make others feel good when you’re around, you’re able to cheer anybody up when they’re feeling down; calling you ugly would be like calling the Sun itself ugly, which is impossible,”
“Well, do you think I’m ugly?” Pidge asked. “I’m rude, condescending, and I can’t decide whether I’m a boy or a girl, I haven’t felt beautiful for a long time,”
“Being rude is in your nature, it’s endearing,” Lance pulled his knees towards him and pressed his forehead into his knees. “It never mattered if you were a boy or a girl, whats outside doesn’t matter because you are encouraging, a genius, and incredibly brave; you put everything on the line to try and rescue your family, no one could ever call that ugly,”
“Am I ugly?” Keith’s voice whispered. “We’re rivals, I have a bad temper, and I don’t follow orders; not to mention the fact that I’m the enemy, I don’t even deserve to be beautiful,”
“Everyone deserves to feel beautiful, especially you Keith,” He sniffed as tears continued to flow down his cheeks. “The Galra side of you makes you who you are; the successful, determined and sometimes temperamental parts of you are what make you so beautiful; because even though you found out this new version of you, you didn’t let it control who you are, or who you were going to become,” Minutes passed in silence aside from the sound of Lance’s quiet sobs and small sniffles.
“So if you’re able to overcome what we find ugly in ourselves, why do you think we can’t overcome what you find ugly in yourself?” Shiro asked seriously. Lance looked down at the white shards in his hands and swallowed.
“I don’t know,” he choked out. He startled when he looked up and saw the Castle in front of him, and he realized that Blue must’ve been flying autopilot.
“No matter what you look like, we will love you,” Shiro reassured. “We won’t force you either, we can have Coran make you a new mask if you’re not ready,” Lance sucked in a breath at the new option. The other paladins waited with baited breath as he made his decision.
“No, I want you to see what I look like,” he replied quietly. The others smiled at each other and started heading toward the Blue Lion’s hanger. The waited patiently outside the Lion as Lance tried to work up the courage inside. Finally, the ramp descended with Lance, who was holding up the shards of the mask in front of his face. He carefully stepped forward in front of his teammates. The pieces of the mask were noticeably trembling in his hands and they could tell that he was trying in vain to stop the shaking.
“I’ve been crying, so I might look even worse,” he mentioned.
“It’s okay Lance, we understand,” Hunk smiled gently. Lance nodded silently before sucking in a deep breath and exhaling. He slowly lowered the pieces and tried to gauge the reactions of his friends. He bit his bottom lip when they didn’t say anything, and just stared intently.
“Oh god, is it bad?” He asked running a hand down the side of his face. Shiro shook his head and came closer.
“No Lance, no I think we just expected something different,” he replied putting his hand on Lance’s shoulder.
“What do you mean?” He asked confused.
“Why don’t you look for yourself?” Shiro asked guiding him to the console in the hanger and pulled up the video screen. Lance’s eyes widened as he ran his hand over his face. Over his left eye was a large patch of pale peachy skin, and the eye itself was a light sky blue compared to his other ocean blue eye. He tried to make out any other imperfections on his skin but was unable to find any others. He stepped away from the camera and turned to the leader.
“This is what my family wanted to hide from the world?” He asked no one particular. “I’ve lived my life behind a mask for that?” He cursed himself as tears once again started swimming in his eyes. He let out a breath of air as he was engulfed in a hug by the Black Paladin, followed closely by everyone else.
“They couldn’t appreciate your real beauty, but we will,” Hunk smiled. Many approvals and agreements rang out from their group hug. He let a grateful smile spread across his face as he realized that; while he left a lot of people behind on Earth, he found the most important ones to him, in space.

anonymous asked:

is having a ginormous fat peen a deal breaker for you? yano cuz u short

Anonymous looked up at the sky, not trusting the colour smeared upon the horizon. Horizons could be misleading, they knew. Horizons could convince you it was still daylight, even when the whole of the sky arced above you in a sprawl of midnight. Looking forward was not always enough. Sometimes, you had to look up. 

Directly above Anonymous, the moon cut its teeth into the clouds, drawing blood and bruising the darkness with its waxen light, waning at the edges. It was time. 

They did not have long. The witch had told them, as she reluctantly handed them the bag of herbs, that the spell would only be useful for the minute or so that the moon was at its highest. The minute was upon them. 

Fifty five seconds left. 

Cursing themself for having lost track of time, Anonymous reached into their trouser pocket and pulled out the little drawstring bag. With hands shaking in anticipation, they emptied the contents into the small well they’d dug into the earth all those hours ago, and covered it back over with dirt. Fingers crossed behind their back, they stepped away and waited.

It did not happen immediately. Magic takes time, the witch had said. Magic does not come to you when you ask for it; it comes to you when it’s good and ready. You can cast all the spells you like, scatter all the herbs and make all the offerings, but magic cannot be summoned - only tempted. 

The seconds ticked by, and Anonymous waited.

This had been a long time coming, they reflected. They had waited too long for the taste of power on their lips. They had been too long distant from how it felt to be in control. They had learnt too early their place in the world, and they had too soon come to rue it. The chasm between want and have had grown inexorably bigger since the day they were born, and now they were here. 

The mound of earth did not move. Anonymous thought about the time they had first felt insignificant - the first time they had realised that they stood small in the face of all things - and counted the seconds. 

With ten seconds left before the spell died, the magic came. 

Magic has no face, has no body. It takes no form and it holds no weight. The witch had told Anonymous this herself. Magic simply is; it is because no other word will do, but it is not. It cannot be, and has never been, and yet it is. 

When Anonymous thought about it, it was all rather complicated.

Best, then, not to think at all. Best to give voice to thought and make it speech. 

Anonymous cleared their throat and began. 

“I suppose you’re wondering why I summoned you here - ” 

I was not summoned. 

They flushed, the soundless sound surprising them even though they had been expecting it. Do not fear the voiceless voice, the witch had warned. It speaks, and is silent. The words are only half your own. 

Breathing slowly, they tried again. 

“No, of course not. Sorry. I’m not - I haven’t used magic before.” 

And you still have not. I am not here to be used. Say what you would have, and I will do the same. This is not a service. This is a trade.

“Right. Yes. Sorry.” They inhaled, exhaled. This was the only chance they would have to resolve the conflict that had been the shape of all their life. This was the resolution of aporia; of feeling as though they deserved everything, yet having nothing. Of knowing that they should be free, but being everywhere in chains. Of wanting, and of not having. “I want to feel powerful.” 

In what sense? Power is not all-encompassing. The queen ant is powerful to the workers, but weak to the heel of the boot. What power would you hold? Do you seek to command nations, or to master the arts, or to take another as your own? 

Anonymous considered how best to formulate their response before replying. Precision was key here. The witch had made it clear that magic would grant you what you asked, whether or not it was exactly what you wanted. 

“I’m tired of being silent,” they said eventually. “I’m tired of being unable to say whatever I want. I’m sick to the teeth of thinking all these thoughts - great thoughts, too; thoughts that could topple cities and part seas - and being forced to keep them to myself, all because other people think that their own feelings are more important. Well, what of my feelings? What of feeling inadequate? What of the weight of being told to keep silent? Do they know what that does to a person?”

As they spoke, they could feel their heartbeat rise, pumping and roaring in their ears, in their veins. “Sorry,” they added. “I’m getting carried away. But to answer your question - I want to have the power to speak my mind.”

In all things?

They contemplated it. “Yes. In all things.”

The silence was real for a few moments before it became illusion.

I can help you.

“And will you?” 

Yes. It will require exchange, however.

At these words, Anonymous could hardly contain their excitement. “Anything. I’ll give you anything.” They took their purse out from their other pocket, and held it out towards the mound. “I have money. I have a house, too, but that’s back in town. You mightn’t like it there. My neighbours - ”

I would have your face.

Anonymous faltered. “My what?”

Your face. That is my offer. I will give you unlimited and unprecedented power to speak your mind. All thoughts you have will be given voice, and you will never again be forced to turn away from speaking aloud what you have always been taught to keep silent. In return for this extraordinary power, I would take from you your face, and in so doing I would give myself form and body. You would never again be silent; I would never again be invisible. 

“But wouldn’t I suffer without a face? How would anyone know that it was me who was speaking?” Anonymous asked, wringing their hands around their purse. 

I have named my payment. Now I would name my price. The price of this power is thus: the knowledge that all thoughts you give voice to will be dampened by your lack of face. That everything you ever say to another will be tempered by your lack of identity. That no-one will again know whose thoughts you speak; only that you do speak, and in all things. 

There was nothing for it. They would have to decline. They could not accept these terms. What power came at such a price, after all? What king had ever ruled his country with no name or face? What lover had ever made another theirs with no identity? 

All the times they had been asked to hold their tongue; all the times they had been scolded for speaking their mind; all the times they had uttered the wrong words at the wrong time and had suffered for it: all this had been for nothing. 

Although, Anonymous admitted to themself, the thought did appeal on one front, and one front alone. It was undeniable that a certain freedom was gained by completely giving up one’s identity. After all, who could be held accountable for a deed when the deed was done by one with neither name nor face? Who would they scold when the words that were given were not the words that were wanted? Who would suffer when the things said were not things that people wanted to hear?

Only those who heard them, of course, and not the one who spoke them. 

And immediately, ashamedly, wonderfully, the decision was already made, had perhaps been made years ago. 

“It’s a deal.” 

You agree to the payment and price?

“I do. Take my face, and give me the power I seek.”

The deal is struck.

And then the moon, which had begun to falter at its peak, was suddenly once more at its highest. The minutes had been returned. 

Hand trembling, Anonymous reached up to touch their face, only to find that, of course, there was no face. Where their image had been - the folds of their mouth, the curve of their nose - was now smooth and featureless. There was nothing there at all.

“Are you happy?” came a voice from behind them. 

Anonymous whirled around, and came face to face with their own face, worn by another. “Who are you?” they asked, and a thrill chased up their spine at the realisation that there was no fear behind these words at all. Their voice did not falter. The question was biting, crystalline.

“I am Magic,” replied the impostor, “given form by our deal. Is it to your satisfaction?” It cocked its head inquisitively, Anonymous’ old eyes seeking validation in their new setting, and Anonymous felt powerful. They were looking at their old self - their weaker, voiceless self - and they were free.

Anonymous drew a deep breath in before responding. “is having a ginormous fat peen a deal breaker for you?” they asked.

Magic blinked. “I don’t understand.” 

“yano,” continued Anonymous, “cuz u short.”

“Why are you saying that?” asked Magic, eyes darting left to right in placid uncertainty. “I don’t understand. I gave you what you wanted. You could say anything you wanted, and no-one would ever hold you accountable. You could take a lover with intricately crafted sonnets, bend ears with your scintillating rhetoric, and yet you choose - ”

“is having a ginormous fat peen a deal breaker for you? yano cuz u short,” interjected Anonymous, feeling giddy and drunk with power.

Magic blinked again. “You have the choice of a thousand languages, billions of words - ”

“is having a ginormous fat peen - ”

“Sometimes,” Magic interrupted, “silence is the more powerful weapon after all. I could undo what I have done, but I think it best not to bother. Some people will never learn. I wish you luck with all things, and may you one day find your power useful, for it will not aid you in the pursuit you have chosen.”

With that, Magic was gone, and Anonymous’ face was lost to them forever. Now alone, Anonymous looked gleefully at the small mound of earth that had been their salvation. They thought of all the things they would say tomorrow, and they smiled.

At least, they would have smiled, had they been able.

Far away, Magic rolled its new eyes, and decided to write a sonnet. 

Rings

So, I’ve always been fascinated by Harry’s hands. Men’s hands in general, really, but Harry’s hands are so nice and his rings are my downfall. And I noticed quite a while ago that he seems to never wear a ring on the ring finger of his left hand. And after it was brought up by an anon on @inwhichitrytowritesomething ‘s blog, I decided a short little oneshot was in order. This was supposed to be like fluffy and cute, but it took on a mind of it’s own somewhere along the way. I had to cut it off before I got too caught up with it. Otherwise there would’ve been a full blown sex scene and probably multiple parts, and I’m already committed to a multipart fic atm. So anyway, here it is.

Please let me know if you like it and if you’d like me to do any other short little shots like this in the future. I quite like writing them :)


“Oi, what are you doing?” Harry asked, walking into his girlfriend’s flat after a day at the studio. She was sat at the desk in the corner of her living room, laptop open to a Google search of him. “If you want pictures of me, love, all you’ve got to do is ask. Be more than happy to send you a few. I’m open to requests.”

She looked at him over her shoulder and rolled her eyes. “I’m not looking at you just for the sake of looking at you, ya dolt. I was doing some research.”

“Research?” he asked, more intrigued now than he was earlier. He sidled up beside her and crouched down so he was more level with the screen where he saw various photos of himself from all sorts of events and occasions. “What research, exactly? I don’t see any reason to these photos,” he admitted.

“Okay, not really research, since I can’t actually get any facts to support a hypothesis, and I don’t have one of those either. I was just curious, really.”

“About what, pet?” He reached his hand out and lovingly palmed at her thigh where she sat on the chair. She was dressed only in a pair of panties and one of his black silk shirts that he’d worn the day before and left at her’s this morning. Her skin was soft and warm and it was comforting to him after a long day trying to figure out the final touches of his album.

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Apples and Heroes

Originally posted by kissthejotun

Request: Can you please do a Star Trek story with Bones and the words “an apple a day keeps the doctor away”, “your pulse is weak,” and “all the apples in the world wouldn’t stop me.” They aren’t in your prompts list I hope that’s okay? Thank you!

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A Lion’s Pride - Sebastian Stan x Reader - One Shot

Originally posted by jugheadcami

Originally posted by hard-on-for-hiddleston

A/N - So i’m gonna be using the same family if you like from I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa. So the usual Reader, Seb and Izzy.

Sebastian is really not happy when he see’s Tom trying to make a play at his wife. Little does he know it’s not like that at all. Major smut fest ensures.

Jealous Seb x Reader

Warnings: Smutty smut smut.

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I Drew This For You

Requested By: Anonymous

could i request a peter and reader where the reader is a shy painter and secretly has a crush on peter so everyday she draws pictures in a sketchbook for him. one day she loses it and peter finds it and realizes her feelings

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Description: You were the shy person at school, nobody really noticed you, which was the whole objective. However, you did have a huge crush on the one and only Peter Parker. You spent a good portion of your time drawing him or painting him in your sketchbook, but one day it goes missing, putting you in a panic to find it before he did. 

Warnings: None, it’s just really cute and sweet.

Word Count: 1,857

A/N: So this is just really dorky and sweet and ugh I just wish Peter Parker was real!!!!

Originally posted by parkrpeters

Like every normal school day, you walked in, nobody really paid attention to you, which you mentally were thankful for, thus leaving you to doing what you did best, drawing.

But who you were drawing was another story, you drew your one and only crush Peter Parker, he’d be standing by his locker sometimes, or walking with his best friend Ned, no matter where he went, you still managed to draw him.

Today, he was standing in the middle of the hallway, staring off at his one and only crush Liz.

You couldn’t help but feel a pang of jealously, you wished deep down he’d look at you like that, but you knew there would never be a chance in the world, mainly since he didn’t know you existed.

So you would watch in sadness as his heart chased another girl, wishing it was you he was chasing after.

The bell would then ring, signaling you to get to class before you were late, and that’s exactly what you did, just like every other day.

You’d sit down at your table, Peter and Ned walking in a few minutes before the late bell would ring, taking their seats and then the teacher would start the lesson, except today was different.

You’d normally draw during class, but today you couldn’t, mainly because the teacher had assigned a group project, and you were the lucky winner to be in a group with none other than Peter and Ned.

Your eyes widened in fear, hearing your name being called as the teacher announced the groups, you could see Peter and Ned look behind them at you.

They both turned around, pulling their chairs up to your desk, making you visibly shake, this wasn’t the way it was supposed to go.

“Hey Y/N right?” Ned smiled, making you blink a few times before nodding.

“You’re not much of a talker are you?” Peter smiled, making your eyes widened a bit, you were mentally hitting yourself as you once again nodded in response.

“Well, we should probably get started.” Ned laughed, beginning to work on the project, but Peter was too focused on you, he couldn’t figure you out, he could tell there was a part of you that nobody knew, but he didn’t know why.

“Peter, stop staring man, it’s creepy.” Ned nudged Peter’s elbow, making his cheeks tint red from embarrassment for being caught staring.

You on the other hand, were more focused on the project rather than anything, but you felt your heart beat a bit quicker when you heard the words leave Ned’s mouth.

Peter had been staring at you, but the question was why? You didn’t think you were giving off any hints that you liked him, you were praying that you weren’t anyways.

“This is an in class assignment, we’ll be working on this for the rest of the week, so make sure you come to class.” The teacher added, walking around the room to observe everyone’s work so far.

The teacher came around to your group, peering over your shoulders along with Peter’s and Ned’s. You always hated when they did something like that, it felt so awkward and uncomfortable, you never knew what you could do or not do with them so close.

You felt a tap on your shoulder, making you glance up at the teacher who’s eyes moved towards your sketchbook, making your face heat up instantly.

“Y/N, I’ve told you many times I don’t want to see this in my classroom.” The teacher scolded, making your heart beat quickly.

“I-I know, I-I’m sorry..” You mumbled, reaching for the sketchbook, but the teacher stopped you, placing their hand on it.

“I think I’m just going to confiscate it for today, come back for it at the end of school.” The teacher gave a small smile, making your eyes widen with fear.

If they looked through it, you would be so screwed, they would know all your darkest secrets, and that you liked Peter.

“Damn man, that sucks.” Ned muttered, watching the teacher walk away with your sketchbook.

“I didn’t know you could draw, you should show me sometime.” Peter smiled, trying to engage you in a conversation.

“Y-Yeah, maybe?” You mumbled more in a questioning way, making Peter’s eyes light up a bit.

“You seem pretty tense though, what’s in there anyways?” Ned questioned, making you freeze for a split second, your eyes flickering to Peter then to Ned.

“Uhm.. Uh.. N-Nothing..” You shrugged, continuing to write down answers on the paper in front of you.

Ned looked at you curiously, then at Peter who was also suspicious.

The bell eventually rang, making you let out a sigh of relief, the class felt like eternity for you.

You grabbed your belongings, rushing out the room to your next class, you needed this day to be over, you needed your sketchbook back.

“Dude what is Y/N hiding, it’s all I can think about!” Ned shouted, making Peter chuckle and shrug at his best friend.

“Whatever it is, she doesn’t want anyone to know.” Peter grinned, grabbing ahold of his backpack straps.

The day went on and finally the last bell rang, meaning you could get your sketchbook back and feel safe once again.

“Hi, I’m here for my sketchbook.” You smiled nervously, looking at the teacher who rolled their eyes slightly.

“That’s strange, I could have sworn I put it right here..” The teacher mumbled, pushing stuff around in their drawers.

“Y/N, I promise I put it some place safe, but it’s not here anymore.” The teacher looked at you guiltily as they saw your face pale.

“I need to find it.” You spoke quietly, before rushing out of the room to check lost and found.

You shoved all the items around, none of them being your sketchbook, your heart was beating so hard you could feel it in your throat.

Where was it? Who took it? Who’s seen it?

You quickly went to go look in the hallways, turning the corner quickly, but enough to bump right into someone.

“Ow.” You mumbled, glancing at you who had ran into, it happened to be Peter, who was also holding your sketchbook.

Your eyes widened as your eyes flickered to the book, then back to him, who was as equally surprised.

“I-I can e-explain.” You stammered, your face flushing with embarrassment.

“Y/N, these are so good, I didn’t know you could draw so well.” Peter spoke up before you, making your eyebrows furrow in confusion.

“Especially the ones of me.” He added, a small smile forming on his lips.

“Y-You don’t t-think it’s w-weird?” You whispered, a small smile beginning to form on your lips also.

“No, in fact I really like them.” He smiled, skimming through your sketchbook again, he was amazed when he found it, and even more surprised when he looked at all your drawings.

He knew he shouldn’t have snooped, but he couldn’t help himself, but he was glad he did, because the more he looked at your drawings, the more his feelings grew for you.

“I uh.. I drew them for you..” You smiled, making his eyes widen, a grin spreading across his face.

“Really? You didn’t have to do that Y/N.” He smiled, walking closer to you, making your heart once again beat faster.

“I-I was going to give them to you..” You admitted, looking down at the floor, but you felt his fingers tilt your chin up so you were looking into his eyes.

“Thank you.” He smiled, kissing your cheek, surprising not only you but himself too.

“If y-you couldn’t tell, I-I really l-like you..” You mumbled, laughing quietly, making his heart melt.

He loved your laugh, it was like music to his ears.

“If it helps at all, I like you too Y/N, a lot.” He smiled, making your cheeks red, he liked you, Peter Parker liked you, not Liz, you.

“Now since we have that settled, why don’t you teach me some tricks, I want to draw you too.” Peter grinned, making you laugh once again.

“Alright Parker, lets see what you got.” You shot back, surprising yourself at how forward you were, making him laugh at your reaction as he wrapped his arm around your shoulder.

“I’m going to nail it.” Peter joked, making you roll your eyes playfully.

“We’ll see.” You smiled, as Peter handed you back your sketchbook.

“No, you keep it.” You laughed, placing the sketchbook back into his hand, as he watched you in confusion.

I drew them for you, didn’t I?” You smiled, making his heart melt once again, he was so thankful Ned had talked him into looking at your sketchbook, if he hadn’t none of this would have happened, and in that moment he realized he would be lost without you.

What We once were

I truly hope so much that you like this story. It’s based of what was for months my reality. 

Plot: Y/N is in love with Harry and doesn’t understand why he cuts her off. 

Warnings: Mentions of violent behavior, however not in detail.

Picture isn’t mine which is quite sad. 

It was safe to say that I loved him far too much for my own good. Maybe it was the way he looked at me, eyes wide and full of warmth and with a hint of… wonder. He looked at me as though he was the only one who saw me as me, the person I truly was. And yet at the same time I know now that he also always saw me as somebody I couldn’t possibly be. Somebody I didn’t even want to be and now am glad I never became, even if it resulted in costing me him. To this day I think it was this misperception of his that doomed the two of us to fail.

Harry caused me so much unnecessary pain, forced me through a seemingly infinite amount of sleepless nights.

How had I ever made that man to somebody I cared about so deeply? I truly wish I hadn’t.

….Then.
I stumbled into Harry’s life at a time when the both of us felt terribly out of place. He’d befriended a friend of mine and was soon thrown into a new group of friends, one that I happened to be part of a well. Of course he was on good terms with everybody and held the attention of everyone.

It caught me by surprise when Harry and I became friends. I’d expected to be just as much of a bystander in his life as I was in the lives of the other’s but for some reason he made an effort to know me. I let him of course, gladly in fact since I was just as much pulled under his spell as the rest of us were and greedy for any bit of attention he could spare.

Soon I discovered that he was funny, kind and not half as cocky as he always pretended to be. Harry made me happy. It was far too easy to fall in love with him it happened without me even noticing.

….Now.
It would be nice if this story would turn into one of those that end with the two friends looking closely at each other, smile and then realize at the same time that the partner they had been dreaming of had been right there in front of them all along. What’s more beautiful than mindless flirtations turning into true words of love? I’ll say it right now this is definitely not that kind of story. If anything it’s the opposite.

….Then.
“You should come with us,“ Harry suggested one day.

We were queueing for coffee, something we did at least once a week since he’d introduced me to this part of the city where we’d found what was undoubtedly the best cafe ever. I’d somehow hoped he would invite me to the party tonight, but at the same time I dreaded the thought of going.

I bit my lip. “Wouldn’t I be a bit out of place?“

“Next!“ Moving quickly I informed the barista of our orders and payed for them both before following Harry who’d already walked over to the side of the counter where our coffee’s would be served. He smiled when I followed him.

“Rubbish,“ Harry spoke, grinning at me with that smile I thought about far too often when alone, “You’d just stick to my side like you usually do.“

This idea I liked. Harry’s grin widened when I nodded. “Okay.“

“Great!“

Harry squeezed my shoulder before glancing to our right when’re a beautiful young woman came to a stand, checked something on her phone and then moved to sit down at a table near the wall. A sour taste settled on my tongue and I cleared my throat.

“Only so that somebody’s looking after you, which isn’t a piece of cake,“ I  said, smiling when I successfully distracted his attention away form the pretty female and back to me, “Drunk Harry is a pain in the arse I’ll tell you that much.“

Harry shook his head with arched brows. „Watch it love, ’nother comment like that one and m’gonna pinch you.“

“As if you’d dare,“ I laughed, but shrieked and moved away when his fingers reached out to assault my hips. “Ouch! Be nice!“

We waited another minute or two before he thanked the barista with a warm smile while handing me my coffee.

“How much do I owe you?“ he asked, taking a sip from his mug.

“Don’t worry about it. You payed for both of us last time.“

“Oh, so now you can be nice to me, huh?“ Harry playfully nudged my side with his arm and nodded towards the exit, silently asking for us to leave. Well, less asking than demanding it.

My heart sank a little. I’d hoped we would sit down and enjoy our coffees together and through that prolong our time spent alone with one another, but I assumed he already had other plans.

“I’ll pick you up at ten,“ Harry informed me out on the street, his hand a constant warmth at the small of my back. “That way we’ll be an hour later than everybody else and there when the fun really starts.“

I rolled my eyes. “Sure. Whatever you say.“

“That’s the spirit,“ Harry joked, laughing when I glared at him, “I’ll see you then.“

My heart skipped a beat when he leaned in, lips finding my cheek in a lingering kiss before he allowed his arms to wrap around my waist in a tight embrace. The untamable curls of his tickled my neck when he let his face nuzzle my skin momentarily and I giggled in delight, heart thrumming heavily upon hearing him quietly chuckle.

“I’ll see you later,“ I confirmed, more to myself than to him in order to soften the sting of us having to part, “Bye, Harry.“

I squeezed him to me one more time before letting him release me. He stepped back and for a moment I believed to see something change in his eyes. With a final wave he made his way towards the taxi station nearby while I turned to walk to the nearest bus stop.

..

Harry’s hand was holding mine tightly (his doing, not mine), our fingers intertwined and my heart singing. I smiled and let him pull me with him as he went to say hello to all of the people he knew at the bar, which were many. Nobody questioned our interlaced hands and my cheeks warmed at the thought of people not doubting for a moment that I could belong to Harry’s side.
While Harry spoke to one of his friends my eyes scanned the faces of the people around us and to my distaste found the all too familiar and rather attractive features of Cherry, Her evil eyes glared at me briefly before widening upon noticing Harry, her desire for him as clear to see for everybody as her red painted lips were. I shuddered and turned more into Harry’s side, reminding myself that it was me he’d asked to come with him and not her. I didn’t look but I could feel her angered gaze of jealously on my frame. I couldn’t fight the smile pulling at my lips. The next person I was was Jake, a friend, who smiled and raised his hand in a short wave. I waved back. Him I quite liked.

“Y/N!“

Harry’s eyes found mine briefly before he released my hand and let my friend Lucy embrace me so tightly I could hardly breathe.
When she let go again I was immediately forced into a conversation with her and before I could do anything to stop her she pulled me away and out of Harry’s sight.

The night turned out to be fun though, especially when Harry joined me shortly after saying hello to Cherry and only left my side after an hour when our friend Riley suddenly came hurrying towards us, saying that he needed to talk to Harry. I watched him walk away longingly.

“You know,“ Lucy began while biting onto the blue straw of her drink, “he really likes you.“

“We’re best friends,“ I shrugged, turning to her, “He better like me.“

“No, silly,“ Lucy rolled her eyes and nudged my arm, “I mean he fancies you. Maybe not as much as you do him since you’re practically head over heels for that guy, but still. I’m sure if you were to say anything he’d be happy to go out with you.“

With flushed cheeks I looked around us, hoping nobody had heard her words.

“I don’t want to risk anything,“ I confessed quietly, “I’d rather be his friend than be nothing at all. Besides, it’s the guy who has to take the first step, not the girl.“

At that Lucy laughed loudly, her long hair fell over her shoulders and I briefly admired how pretty she was.

“Welcome to the 21st century, Y/N. And don’t you think he already made the first step? Several times, actually? Think about it. He invited you here to come with him. He escorts you home every time you’re out late with us and he constantly calls or texts you. Jake told me the other day that he drove past the two of you when Harry was walking you home and he didn’t dare stop to say Hi, thinking he might otherwise interrupt something.

“Jake is being funny then,“ I replied, ignoring the heavy squeeze my heart gave, “Harry is like that with many girls.“

“But only with you it is real.“

I didn’t reply any further and did my best to change the subject, silently urging my heart to calm down. I wished Lucy’s words were true. I wanted Harry to adore me as much as I adored him.

….Now.
Harry didn’t adore me as much as I adored him. It was about one week after that night that he told Lucy he hated me. 
Her expression had been one of pity and I could tell it was hard for her to speak the words, fully aware that they would break my heart, but I’d begged her to tell me what it was I had done to make Harry draw away from me. And that was all she got out of him.
Harry hated me, wanted nothing to do with me and felt as though he had absolutely no place for me in his life anymore. 
And while my world shattered at his sudden change of heart, he seemingly stayed unaffected.

“What can I say,“ Lucy recalled his words were, “I guess when one door closes, another one opens.“

But I’m getting ahead of myself.

….Then.
I continued to speak to Lucy and drink, though I made sure not to get drunk so I would be sober should Harry decide to get wasted. I was to keep my word and take care of him, which I didn’t mind at all.

“Can’t believe you’re doing this for him,“ Lucy said, brows arched, “Make sure that he’s actually drunk this time.“

I rolled my eyes, remembering with a foul taste in my mouth when Harry had pretended to be drunk and forced me to drag him home, making me then walk back to my apartment alone and in the middle of the night only to later on reveal that it had all been an act.

“Wanted to see if you were a good friend or not,“ Harry had laughed after humiliating me in front of everybody, “And you passed!“

It hurt me how easily he could play with my feelings for him and I know that I should have left him then. But of course I had instead forgiven Harry without thinking about it twice.

We were interrupted by a guy named Cory. His tall figure loomed over the two of us and he looked very much out of breath. Though he didn’t know me it was my face his eyes instantly found.

“Y/N, right? You need to come with me. Now.“

I was grabbed without further explanation and dragged with such quick steps it was difficult for me to keep up. I was confused and wondered what a guy I didn’t even knew could want from me.

Though when we reached outside I realized it wasn’t Cory who needed something from me, but Jake.

My good and kind friend Jake was crying. His body shook and his face resembled the color of a sheet of paper. The blue of his eyes was swimming in tears and the evident fear in his orbs frightened me. My stomach turned when I noticed how his right cheek shone with a flaming shade of red. I stumbled towards him, heart beating heavily in my chest.

“Jake, what-“

“Y/N. No.“

I flinched at Harry’s rough words and when my surprised eyes met his I froze. With his back stood against the brick wall of the building I hadn’t noticed his presence at first but now that I looked at him not even the dark could hide the heavy movements of his chest, the raw anger in his burning eyes. Instantly my worry was for him.

“Harry? What happened?“

My eyes wandered down and the racing of my heart increased at the sight of his trembling fingers, the knuckles of his hand already swollen.

I moved towards him and reached out for his arm before my brain could catch up. “Oh god, Harry, are you alright?“

Tears threatened to form at the sight of the one I loved in pain. Harry gently squeezed my fingers.

“I’m okay, love, don’t worry. Go. I don’t need you to see this.“ This time his tone was kind.

I turned to look at Jake. He’d shrunk back when I’d moved to stand by Harry’s side instead of his and I noticed how his tears increased, smearing his flaming cheek. I didn’t understand and desperately searched for answers in Harry’s face, but his expression had already hardened again. It was when his dark eyes found Jake’s trembling form that I realized what had happened. There was no kindness in his stare.

I let go of Harry’s hand and stepped back. “Harry, what did you do?“

Jake sobbed, breaking my heart further. I felt tears burn my eyes and roll onto my cheeks before I could stop them and I turned to look at the friend I felt was like my brother. With my entirety shaking I stepped closer and tried to reach for his hand.

“Are you okay?“ It was a stupid question to ask somebody who was so clearly devastated.

Jake nodded.

“Y/N,“ Harry growled form behind me, “Leave him be and go back inside. You have no business here so stay out of it.“

His voice was back to being harsh.

Still I pressed on.

“Did Harry do that?“

I didn’t need Jake’s nod to know the answer to my question.

It wasn’t the first time I’d been a witness to Harry’s short temper. He’d lashed out at people before my eyes more times than I liked to admit, but never before at one of our friends.
Never somebody we cared about. 

At first he would always scream and if the person confronted then didn’t step back, Harry would let his muscular physic do the talking.
I’d been so frightened when it had happened for the first time as I before that incident only knew him as a kind, warm and loving guy who did everything he could for his friends. Upon meeting him I wouldn’t have ever believed he’d be the type to solve his problems with physical strength, but over time I’d learned that if you push the false buttons, he could get as angry as a hurricane and destroy everything around him.
Normally he always tried to make sure I didn’t see.

“Oh Jake,“ I cried and moved to hug him.

Harry made a sound like I imagined a wild tiger would right before killing his prey.

“Y/N, I swear to god, go the fuck inside!“

“Stop it, Harry! Can’t you see you’ve done enough?“ I was properly sobbing now, “What the hell were you thinking? You hit Jake!“

“That prick deserved it,“ Harry spoke cruelly, “Didn’t you, you little shit?“

“Hey man, calm down, okay? I think he gets it,“ Cory intervined.

He’d stayed silent until now.

Jake’s swimming orbs found my face. “I’m going home.“

I brushed my hands against the wet skin of my cheeks and nodded. My friend’s scared eyes found the man’s who stood behind me before quietly continuing.

“Come with me.“

“She’s staying, aren’t you, Y/N?“ Harry’s tone was almost mocking, “She came here with me so she stays until I take her home. She doesn’t need you to do that.“

My head hurt and I shook my head. Breathing was difficult.

“Jake,“ I whimpered, “Just go, okay? Text me when you’re home.“

I knew my reply disappointed him but at the same time it was hardly a surprise. Of course I would stand by Harry’s side still. Of course there wasn’t anyone who I would choose over him. Harry knew it, too and grinned at the both of us with an unfamiliar shade of evil in his eyes.

I faintly heard him mumble the words Good girl.

My stomach turned.

“I can go home by myself.“

Jake moved to leave and when I turned to look at Harry his expression had changed from one of anger to one of surprise. I noticed that his eyes were back to their clear green color that wasn’t at all frightening and when I took a step back and out of his reach he frowned.

“Y/N,“ he spoke softly, “C’mon. I’ll take you home later.“

I shook my head. “I want to leave now.“

He sighed. “We’ll leave now, then.“

Once more he reached out to touch me and just like before I flinched away from his touch. The blood on his hand made me sick.

“I said I can go by myself, Harry.“

..

Any other person would have understood.

Of course I couldn’t bear to be in the presence of the male who’d just inflicted such pain and fear on one of my closest friends. It was all too much and I cried on my way home, thankful that the taxi driver didn’t dare asking what the matter was.

Jake texted me that he was fine and though none of what happened was my fault I apologized profoundly for what Harry had done.
But that was it. I didn’t offer to come over and take care of him, in fact I didn’t address the subject at all anymore the moment I found out what had happened.
Apperaantly Jake had run his mouth about something Harry didn’t like and before he’d been able to react or apologize Harry’d already begun to inflict physical pain on him, completely void of any compassion for his friend.

I felt bad, I really did, and though I was angry and upset with Harry, the fear of him resenting me should I side too much with Jake kept me from being a good friend to him.

I picked Harry without even consciously making the choice.

..

When I went to tell Lucy about what happened the night before she said that she already knew. Harry had told her everything after I’d left him standing outside the bar.

“He was pretty pissed at you,“ she said with worried eyes, “Said he doesn’t want to see you anymore.“

I shuddered. “Maybe I should call him. Talk things out.“

But he didn’t pick up. Not the first time I tried and not the fifth either. He didn’t even respond to my messages.

Slowly I could feel myself freak out. We’d had some spats here and there, arguments that had made him shut me out and avoid talking to me, but so far whenever I reached out to apologize he warmed up and welcomed me back at his side.

Only this time I honestly felt like there was nothing for me to apologize for. I wasn’t the one who’d laid hand on Jake, who’d commanded a friend around as though they were my property and I hadn’t been the one to spoil the whole night for everyone.

“Just apologize to him,“ Lucy advised after I’d spent three days with absolutely no word from Harry, “He’s on good terms with Jake again. After letting out his aggression Harry accepted Jake’s effort of making things okay.“

“Good for them,“ I said, genuinely meaning it, “But there is nothing I could apologize for and nothing that I did wrong that night. Harry knows that, too.“

In all honesty I felt as though it was Harry’s turn to apologize to me. So many times before had it been me who’d tried and tried to reach out for him to make things right, often I even let myself down just to please him and that just couldn’t happen again.
I would wait, I decided, wait for him to respond to one of my innocent messages, hoping desperately that this choice wouldn’t cost me him. 

But of course that was exactly the price I had to pay for not backing down this time.

….Now.
Harry could be so kind. He was the first person to be there for me when I was in trouble, he always protected me against anything and anyone who made me uneasy and most importantly through him I experienced a never before encountered feeling of being needed. 

To him I was important and he appreciated me every day.

At times he was gentle and funny, blushing whenever he managed to make me laugh and his eyes would sparkle so lovingly it made my heart flutter.

He wasn’t all manipulative, arrogant and selfish.

I think Harry liked to think of me as an obedient and kind girl that wasn’t difficult to keep around. And he most certainly knew I was in love with him. So when I chose not to let myself down and apologize for standing up to him he was surprised and angry.
I’d proven his perception of me wrong and this newly discovered girl wasn’t who he had much use to.

….Then.
Never before in my life had I cried so hard. It was like I couldn’t breathe, my chest was crushed under an immense weight and I was robbed of any feeling of comfort. Some nights it got so bad I was hysterical and trashed around in my bed with no hope of finding rest. It felt like I was forcefully ripped open and everything Harry had left in my heart was taken away. Left was a sickening emptiness.

I was devastated.

Harry hadn’t responded to any attempt I’d made at reaching out and after a while I had been forced to give up. So instead I sent Lucy to talk to him and find out what he believed I did wrong only for her to come back with the most awful news.

“Harry was so angry, Y/N,“ Lucy had said, voice quiet and careful, “So much so he acted completely indifferent. He said that you know exactly what you did, that he hates you for it and never wants to see you again.“

She might as well have knocked me out.

Lucy nervously toyed with her hands. “I’m so sorry, Y/N. There really was nothing I could do to calm him.“

..

Hearing that the person you love feels hate towards you is the most intense kind of heart break that can be inflicted upon you by a loved one. Any sense of warmth is sucked out of you, your skin is in a constant state of shudder and your heart might as well not be there. The sickness you may feel before sitting through an important exam or before your first day at a new job, that kind of nerve wrecking sickness doesn’t ever go away again.

Your body is always on alert. Not even sleep brings rest.
It is pure torture to bear a broken heart and it takes so much time until it gets better.

..

The crying didn’t stop and I had no control over it. My eyes began to tear up without me noticing and due to the constant ache in my heart it was difficult to tell when my body was overwhelmed by it. During those times I searched for solitude and refused to spend time with the large group of people I’d once called my friends. Lucy and a small handful of them were the only ones I wanted to be around, anyone else I knew would instantly go and tell Harry about the pitiful state I was in.
And he didn’t need to know how much him leaving me had shattered my entire being.

To my luck the intense pain, confusion and disappointment followed a lot of anger. Like, more anger than I ever knew I was capable of feeling. That helped so much and for the first time I could feel myself slowly getting close to feeling okay again.

Because honestly: How dare he put me aside like I was a used doll to him? How dare he pretend like I wasn’t the best friend he had? How dare he act as if I hadn’t always put him first, before myself even?

I hissed in anger at the mere thought of all the things I’d done for him, every sacrifice, every time I let myself down to please him. If he messed up, I was there to help make things right, if he was upset, I was there to cheer him up. Me, me me. Always Me.
And now what? I had cried at the sight of my friend in pain and that made ma a traitor?

“I’m okay,“ I told Lucy one afternoon after she asked me how I was coping. Five weeks had passed since Harry had stopped talking to me and I was happy to admit that my words were only half a lie.

“That’s good,“ she gave me a small smile before her expression hardened and she looked away. “He asked about you today.“

I almost chocked on my tea. Lucy elaborated: “I ran into him at the cafe he likes so much. He asked where I was going and when I told him he wanted to know how you were doing.“

“What did you say?“ I wondered, my voice much steadier than I expected.

She peered up at me form under her lashes. “That you were good.“

I nodded. “Good.“

“I also asked if I should talk to you and help him make things right again.“ Lucy looked at me expectantly.

With brows arched in surprise I cleared my throat. “You did? What did he say?“

“Nothing he just shook his head. But that’s only because he’s prideful, Y/N, trust me. If you were to call him now I’m certain he would want to talk.“

Slowly I raised the mug I held in both hands to my lips and took a sip. When I looked at her again I knew my slightly puffy eyes were hard.

“Well, I’m not going to.“

“You should,“ Lucy protested, “Put you both out of your misery.“

I shook my head. “He’s the one who acts as if I did the worst possible thing to him when in reality I have done nothing. No, I am definitely not going to crawl back to him like a whipped dog that learned its lesson and damn him if he thinks I will. Maybe he regrets being a dick to me but then it sure as hell means that it’s his turn to come back. After all, he’s the one that left.“

When I finished I was out of breath and my hands trembled.

“I didn’t know you were this angry,“ Lucy admitted, her eyes holding surprise, “I expected you to be happy about these news.“

“Well I’m not,“ I answered, “This is just another stupid test of his and after crying every night for almost a month now I no longer care if I fail it.“

“He told me you were the one who left.“

I gaped at her. “What?“

She shrugged. “In his version of the story you’re the one who backed away form him after what happened to Jake. He thinks you are the one who left.“

Once more my body was set on fire with anger.
“That’s what this is about?“ I cried, “He hates me for not holding the hand he used to beat my friend with?“

Lucy bit her lip, then she nodded.

“Fuck him then,“ I said harshly, “What a self centered prick. I was frightened sick and he is so selfish that me taking a step back and insisting that I needed a moment alone is enough for him to throw us away?“

There was a pause of silence and slowly my breathing calmed again.

Lucy cleared her throat. “Okay, well… it’s your choice. I just know how much you care for him and even after everything he did I’m sure he cares about you just as much. And as your friend I must say that I can’t bear to see you so hurt all the time.“

At that I smiled kindly. “If he cared as much about me as I do for him he wouldn’t be spending all of his time with Cherry at his side.“

Lucy’s face fell. “I didn’t think you knew about that.“

I shrugged. “Hard not to. Her Instagram is full with pictures of them together. Her hugging him, him holding her waist, them dancing. He doesn’t seem to miss me too much.“

“She’s a distraction and has a pretty head that is as empty as a head can be,“ Lucy spoke harshly, “He knows that she is nothing compared to the friendship he had with you.“

I shrugged once more. “He doesn’t seem to mind. And as long as he doesn’t try to come back to me with a solid apology I couldn’t care less if Cherry bores him out of his mind.“

..

Nights were still the worst. That was when my head was haunted by every moment I ever spent with Harry, every laugh we shared, every touch. My poor heart was tortured with the memory of him kissing my cheek, leaving the skin hot and burning. I was reminded of the wide smile he wore whenever he saw me and the look of his arms held open wide for me to step into.

What I found myself missing most though was his smell. I’d grown to love his scent, found it comforting and every night I feared I would forget it one day.

Nights were when I allowed myself to cry and mourn the hope of love I’d lost with him.

I missed laughing with him, because he was still the funniest person I knew. I longed to hear him talk, because he had such a smart mind. I couldn’t bear to think that I would never get to feel his arms around me again and it hurt to imagine that I would never have his protection again.

After giving him so much importance in my life it was difficult to cope without him. But I did. And after two months of no word of him, it truly was no longer a lie when I said that I was feeling good.

..

It was almost like he knew that my heard had mended and I believed he understood that as his cue to come back and fuck me up again.
I stared at my phone with shock. I had one missed call from Harry and four new texts.

Hey.

How are you?

Can we talk?

Sorry.

Almost three months. That was how long he’d waited to reach out again. More than 40 nights of crying, more than 30 days of feeling like I was only a shell of myself.
And all I got was a Hey. How are you? Can we talk? Sorry. 
A ‘Sorry’ was all that my pain was worth.

„Fuck you, Harry,“ I muttered.

I reached for the device sitting before me, unlocked the screen and pressed onto the message until the small window popped up.

Are you sure you want to delete this chat? My phone asked.

I didn’t hesitate to press yes.

….Now.
To this day I knew that there was nobody I loved as deeply as I did Harry.

Even after doing everything in his power to break my heart, I can’t help the small jump out of rhythm and the tiny squeeze it gives whenever I happen to see his face somewhere. So many years have past and both of our lives are so different now.

We don’t speak. We don’t reach out.

But his stare lingers when he sees my face and so does mine. It’s as if we’re both reminded of who we once were and for a moment we wonder what we’ve become.

Thank you for reading this! 
Masterlist

Fireworks - H.S.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” I mumble. The twinkling lights are mesmerizing and I just can’t seem to focus on anyone else, not even the amazing man beside me that brought me here tonight. When Harry only hums a response, I take my gaze off the fireworks ahead of me and stare at his sharp jawline.

Lately Harry had been acting differently. At first I noticed little things, like him closing off and disappearing into his own head for short amounts of time, but after a while he started raising these walls around him, pretending to be someone who is not even though the real Harry I had met two years prior was something I wish everyone had in his life.

Of course, Harry did not only have a name to keep, but also a reputation. Yes, he was pictured as a womanizer and I think he did won best dressed male again last year, although I don’t keep up with that. I keep up with what actual Harry is up too, what ticks him, what he enjoys doing. Most of the things the media bring to attention aren’t very good small details of a bigger picture.

I think that’s why this friendship works so damn well. That might also be the absolute number one reason I fell madly in love with this man. I’d never risk anything to put our friendship in jeopardy, because I honestly believe I’d never find someone like him, ever again. He was the only real thing in a world filled with lies and misinterpretations.

I’m actually terrified I’ll never get to see the real Harry again. And whatever I try, I just can’t seem to get through to him. So when he appeared at my door, giant grin on his rosy lips and a bottle of expensive champagne held up in one hand, I couldn’t decline.

“Why are you staring at me like that?” Harry laughs, pulling his bottom lip between his pearly white teeth before his glance is cast in my direction. I can feel the rosy hue appear on my cheeks, but they’re transparent to Harry’s gaze due to the harsh lighting of the fireworks going off in front of us.

“This lighting is doing you good.” I decide to go with a true compliment, although that wasn’t initially on my mind. I love the smile that it draws on his lips, the way his eyes crinkle and how he then casts his glance away. “Do you say that to all men?”

“Only you.” I shrug my shoulders with a grin and let a shriek flow from my lips when I feel Harry’s elbow collide with my ribs. “Hey, I gave you a really nice compliment and this is how you repay me?”
“What do you want to hear? How beautiful you look? You always do, Y/n.” Harry huffs as he rolls his eyes and fixates his gaze back onto the sparkly lights disappearing as quickly as they appear.

“You’re one of the most kind-hearted people I know Harry, you deserve all of this success you’re receiving, you know that right?” I decide to bring up the new single, the one that’s supposed to come out in just a few hours – at midnight to be exact. He hadn’t mentioned it since I had heard it when he had initially finished it. It was his baby, his first solo record and he didn’t seem to utter another word about it. It had been months and it saddened me because it was so damn good.

“How is that new man of yours?” Harry’s voice changes tone, and when I decide to peek I see the frown that has set onto his eyebrow. I guess we’re still not talking about it, and I decide to drop it. Last time I had tried to initiate conversation we ended up not speaking to each other for almost two weeks. Which were the worst two weeks of my life, really. “That’s over and done with, didn’t I mention that?”

“Well no, you didn’t.” Harry sighs and I see the small smile tug at his lips. I scoot a little bit closer to Harry, although I’m not sure why. “Well, sorry then.”
“Why did you break up? I thought you liked him.” Harry throws his arm around my shoulder and I lay my head on his shoulder, taking in a deep breath as I focus back on the popping flashing of light.

“I never really did, I think.” I mumble, dropping my hand onto Harry’s knee and giving it a firm squeeze. “I’m searching for something else.” I finish off, feeling my heart throb in my throat. Indirectly, in my own head, I had confessed my love for Harry. He would never see it as such, but that didn’t take away any of the anxiety coursing through my body.

“Well it’s great that you know what you want.”

“Don’t you know what you want?”

“Yeah, but I’m sure she hasn’t even given it a thought. I think I’m nothing more to her than just a really good friend.”

“Who says that? Harry if you want this girl, go and get her. Do you even realize how amazing you are? You always put me up when I’m down. You watch the most horrifying movies with me whenever I want to, without any complaint. You once showed up at my door just because I sounded blue to you on the phone. I’m sure whatever girl you want is just as madly in love with you as you are with her.” I grin, squeezing his knee for emphasis as I let my eyes dart along the sky, trying to follow every firework going off.

“Do you know what sign of the times is about?” Harry suddenly questions and I feel myself stiffen in his embrace as he for the first time in weeks talks about his song or upcoming album.
“Well I interpreted it as hope.” I decide to voice my own thoughts and feelings as simply as possible.

“That’s the great part of it. I think – in whatever time of your life you are, it might – I don’t know – can be interpreted in whatever way it suits you.” Harry starts to stumble over his words as if he were nervous, his ring clad fingers toying with his jeans as he avoids my gaze as well as the sounds going on around us.

“So you’re saying I’m hoping for something?” I smile, somewhat feeling my own nerves bubbling in my stomach as I pull away from Harry, smiling brightly at his twinkling eyes.

“Yeah, you could say it like that. But I think we all hope something, right?” Harry grins right back at me and I slowly let my eyes close, nodding once, but firmly at his statement – or question.

“Hm.” I agree verbally, wanting to lay my head again against his shoulder but he stops me, his eyes searching mine tentatively as I keep frozen in my spot. I let a low breath slip past my opened lips, my tongue darting out to wet them before I suck my bottom lip into my mouth, slowly biting down on it.

Something seems to click in Harry’s mind and before I can completely comprehend what is happening or is about to happen, Harry leans in but hovers right before his lips are about to meet mine. He lets me decide if I want this – if I want to kiss him and as soon as my brain has caught up to current events, I lean the short distance and press my lips firmly against his.

Harry’s large hand cups my cheek and for a second I feel like I might burst out into tears of happiness, but instead I settle for a large grin which almost breaks up our kiss. I feel the vibrations of Harry’s chuckle against my lips as my eyelids flutter.

Harry pulls away, keeping his hand in place, as he seems to catch his breath. His lips press to mine once more in a gentle, simple peck right as the last few fireworks make their last pop in front of us, illuminating the dark night sky.

EVAK FANFICTION RECS / PART 10

Halla! So, as time comes and goes, I’m here with another masterpost of some of my favorite Evak fanfics for you guys. As you can see, I’m trying to be a bit more creative and make these posts look at least somewhat more appealing, so I hope you like this little header I made (even though I suck at Photoshop).

As always, the list is divided into oneshots and chaptered fics.
My personal favorites are tagged with a “ ★ ”.
Completed chaptered fics are tagged with a “ ✓ ”

Without further ado, all the fanfics can be found under the cut. Enjoy!

Keep reading

Okay, so our D&D party played with the Deck of Many Things tonight.

First up, the Sorcerer that stole the Deck drew four cards:

Comet - If you single-handedly defeat the next hostile monster or group of Monsters you encounter, you gain experience points enough to gain one level. Otherwise, this card has no effect.

Alright.

Gem - Twenty-five pieces of jewelry worth 2,000 gp each or fifty gems worth 1,000 gp each appear at your feet.

Nice.

Skull - You summon an avatar of death-a ghostly humanoid Skeleton clad in a tattered black robe and carrying a spectral scythe. It appears in a space of the DM’s choice within 10 feet of you and attacks you, warning all others that you must win the battle alone. The avatar fights until you die or it drops to 0 hit points, whereupon it disappears. If anyone tries to help you, the helper summons its own avatar of death. A creature slain by an avatar of death can’t be restored to life.

Whoa, shit. He wins though, and as per the Comet card he drew first, gains a level.

Donjon - You disappear and become entombed in a state of suspended animation in an extradimensional sphere. Everything you were wearing and carrying stays behind in the space you occupied when you disappeared. You remain imprisoned until you are found and removed from the Sphere. You can’t be located by any Divination magic, but a wish spell can reveal the location of your prison. You draw no more cards.

FUCKING BYE. So our characters are all pretty scared of this deck now. Our bard is happy that it left the money behind. We collect his belongings and head back across the desert and magical wilderness to the town we were traveling toward.

So a few days travel later we reach the town and my Monk, hoping to draw something to save the Sorcerer, draws one card:

Skull - An avatar of death appears and attacks. I win, but I didn’t have a Comet, so I gain nothing.

Our Oath of Conquest (i.e. Evil) Paladin said he would draw to try and save the sorcerer if I did, and declares he will draw two cards:

Rogue - A nonplayer character of the DM’s choice becomes hostile toward you. The identity of your new enemy isn’t known until the NPC or someone else reveals it. Nothing less than a wish spell or Divine Intervention can end the NPC’s hostility toward you.

So he has a new enemy we don’t know anything about, somewhere.

Jester - You gain 10,000 XP, or you can draw two additional cards beyond your declared draws.

TWO MORE DRAWS! TWO MORE DRAWS!

Gem - 50,000gp of gems appear at his feet

So our money troubles are pretty much over with.

Knight - You gain the service of a 4th-level Fighter who appears in a space you choose within 30 feet of you. The Fighter is of the same race as you and serves you loyally until death, believing the fates have drawn him or her to you. You control this character.

His character is driven by his diety/patron to amass power and followers, so this is pretty cool. The first of his army.

Our Bard gets over his fear and declares he is drawing three cards:

Flames - A powerful devil becomes your enemy. The devil seeks your ruin and plagues your life, savoring your suffering before attempting to slay you. This enmity lasts until either you or the devil dies.

Well, shit. The bard, and by extension the party, have been trying to build a trading company in addition to performing around the world as a travelling band, so this angry devil has a bunch of ways to ruin us before killing the bard and maybe all of us.

Star - Increase one of your Ability Scores by 2.

Always good. 20 Charisma now for the Bard.

Vizier - At any time you choose within one year of drawing this card, you can ask a question in meditation and mentally receive a truthful answer to that question. Besides information, the answer helps you solve a puzzling problem or other dilemma. In other words, the knowledge comes with wisdom on how to apply it.

Okay cool, he’s hanging onto it for now, but we’re pretty sure we’ll end up using it to find out how to stop that devil that wants to destroy him.

Did you notice anything about the Knight card? Oh that’s right, the player controls the fighter. So next up, the 4th level fighter, ordered to draw from the deck by the Paladin, draws four cards:

Key - A rare or rarer Magic Weapon with which you are proficient appears in your hands. The DM chooses the weapon.

He gets a +2 cursed weapon that one of the components of the curse is that he won’t give it away. No free loot for the Paladin.

Fool - You lose 10,000 XP, discard this card, and draw from the deck again, counting both draws as one of your declared draws. If losing that much XP would cause you to lose a level, you instead lose an amount that leaves you with just enough XP to keep your level.

He literally just magically materialized here at level 4, so he has no xp to lose. He draws again.

Vizier - Ask any question and receive a truthful, useful answer.

The Paladin lost his memory just before the start of the campaign, so he’s going to have the fighter ask later about that.

Moon - You are granted the ability to cast the wish spell 1d3 times.

Hot damn. He gets 1 on the roll for number of wishes, and grants the entire party permanent fire resistance. Our DM even decrees that the resistance will stack with the Paladin and Fighter’s tiefling fire resist and make the immune to fire, because hey, it’s the Deck of Many Things, it’s real fucking powerful.

The Fates - Reality’s fabric unravels and spins anew, allowing you to avoid or erase one event as if it never happened. You can use the card’s magic as soon as you draw the card or at any other time before you die.

Jaysus. The Paladin and I had agreed that we were drawing to save the sorcerer, and he decides that applies to his servant’s draws also. We use this power to undo the Donjon draw that banished the sorcerer. So he appears alone, naked, in the desert where he had drawn the card. He starts walking, quickly becoming exhausted by the heat and his complete lack of any clothing, food, or water.

But he had declared he would draw four cards. We had undone the draw that banished him, and per the rules of the Deck of Many Things, he must draw all the cards he said he would. An hour after he reappears, a new card flies off the deck, and its effect immediately applies.

He’s lying face down in the desert sands, when suddenly, a 4th level fighter appears, offering him a waterskin and some clothing. They believe that they have been drawn to him by fate, and will serve him loyally until death.

He is saved! But there’s one more thing about the Knight card.

He controls this character. Next week, he’s going to have them draw from the goddamn Deck.