this will probably look so much worse when I get up tomorrow

anonymous asked:

What's your take on the world ending for the Greek Gods? Or when they cease to be relevant to mankind, and what happens to them? Would Athena, Aphrodite and Artemis take the streets and march for Pride? Would Demeter be the manager at a zoo?

Time passes. The world changes. Temples fall. People now speak their names as if they are fairytales.

The gods are dead.

~

Apollo’s chariot lies broken and forgotten in the ruins of a city no one knows the name of anymore. He watches the sun crawl across the sky of its own volition, without him to push it forward.

“Do you miss it?” Artemis asks him, appearing by his side.  They stand at the top of a sparkling glass building, almost the same as ever. She walks among the mortals more than he does, she always has, and She’s dressed like one of them. Tight clothes and half her head shaved, sparkling gems curling up the delicate shell of her ear. She looks like one of the teenagers that fill his concert stadiums.

He thinks of the way his chariot threatened to escape his grasp every morning, the oppressive heat of the sun beating down on him, the burns and the undercurrent of fear that one day he would lose his grip on the reins and plunge the world into darkness.

Apollo leans his head on his sister’s shoulder. The sun rises slower without him, but it rises just the same. “No. Not really.”

~

Hephaestus’s workshop has evolved with the times – from a volcano base to a modern lab, but always a workshop bursting with creation. The cyclopes are still his best assistants.

Aphrodite steps over discarded parts and expertly walks around frantic cyclopes carrying bubbling concoctions. Her dark hair is swept up in a bun and she wears chunky glasses and a blood red pantsuit that almost hides the fact she’s the most beautiful woman to walk the earth. “I have a client, try not to blow up the house. Again.”

“Yes dear,” he says, but doesn’t looks away from his soldering. She hadn’t expected him too. His prosthetics are off and on the floor besides him, and he’s seated on a too-tall chair to compensate for the loss of height.

She reaches out and carefully touches the corner of his eye. Crow’s feet have started to work their way onto his face. They’re getting old. “It’s the couple that’s fighting because he wants kids and she doesn’t want to carry any kids but doesn’t want to say that. It would probably be easier if I just told them to adopt and threw them out the window.”

“Yes dear,” he repeats, sparks flying. A few land on her, but she doesn’t burn. Of course.

She moves her hand up and pushes it through his hair and resists the urge to pull him from his work and abandon her own so they can make out on his worktable. “I love you.”

Aphrodite turns to leave, but Hephaestus grabs her wrist and pulls her back. He holds up a single copper lily, the edges of the petals still glowing with heat it had taken to shape them. He carefully slides the stem into her hair so it sits at the base of her bun. He grazes her bottom lip with his thumb as he pulls his hand back to his side. “Yes dear.”

~

Demeter rages.

She makes imprudent deals to control an earth that no longer falls under her domain, and she enacts her revenge against the mortals in whatever way she can. They have forgotten her, forgotten the earth, and in their ignorance they seek to destroy it.

She shakes the bedrock and splits it open, but still they do not learn, and as the temperature of the earth rises so does her temper.

The sea is not hers to command, her power is of earth and of earth alone, and even now she gave more than could afford to lose to keep her grasp on it. But these mortals do not learn.

Demeter goes to the sea and makes an inadvisable bargain. She goes to the crumbling remains of Olympus and makes an even worse one.

Typhoons and hurricanes whip across the land. If they seek to destroy her, she will simply destroy them first.

~

Hera sits on a pure white couch in an elegant mansion, smiling for the journalist seated across from her.

“What do you think is the most influential decision you ever made?” he asks, “If you could pinpoint the success of your business to one moment, what would it be?”

She tilts her head as the light of the camera flashes. “Why, divorcing my husband, of course.”

“Would that be your advice to young women hoping to be as successful as you?” he asks, “To not get married?”

Hera thinks of thousands of years by Zeus’s side, and how little it got her. She thinks of Hestia’s men, and Artemis’s women, of Hephaestus’s love for Aphrodite, of the way Hades softened the sharpest of Persephone’s edges.

She says, “Do not get married to someone who makes you less than you are. If you are not a better person for being together than apart, then do not be together. It’s as simple as that.”

Simple, but not easy.

Leaving Zeus was the hardest thing she’s ever done.

~

Persephone isn’t forced to spend half the year on the mortal earth anymore. She goes when she pleases, which isn’t often.

Sometimes she’ll sit by Artemis’s side while she brings a new life into the world and holds the warm, wriggly child first. She visits hospitals and makes the flowers bloom out of season, and spends long hours sitting under the sun and feeling it’s warmth touch her face.

Hades left his realm rarely before, and even more rarely now. More people are being born than ever, meaning more people are dying than ever. Their realm is massive, comprising of all the dead of several millennia. Hades and Hecate spend their days as always – desperately trying to expand the realm so that they don’t all have to live on top of each other.

“Have you heard?” she asks one day, seated on his desk and leaning across it so he can’t work on the latest draft for another level of their realm. “The gods are dead.”

He gives up on attempting to tug it out from underneath her. “Are they? That’s odd, none of them are here.”

Persephone doesn’t bother to hide her smile. They haven’t figured it out yet. Maybe they never will. But when death comes for them, as death does for all, it will be to Hades and Persephone’s door they are brought. Hades himself will usher Gaia and Amphitrite into the underworld, when the time comes.

That time is not today.

“Darling, I really do need to work on this,” he ineffectually tugs on the map again.

She pushes him back into the chair, climbing on top of him and pressing their foreheads together. “No, you don’t.”

“No, I don’t,” he agrees, and obligingly moves his head so Persephone can nibble at his neck. He manages a whole thirty seconds before going, “I mean, I really do, Hecate said if I didn’t have a plan by the time she leaves for the mortal realm tomorrow, I’ll either have to wait until she gets back or do it by myself, and I’d really prefer to do neither–”

Persephone kisses him to shut him up, twisting and pushing them through the realm so they land on their bed. “I’ll help you finish it later. Focus on me now.”

Hades doesn’t answer, but he does flip them so he’s above her and reaches below her skirt, so she’ll take that as agreement.

~

Hestia sits around a bonfire, watching a group of teenagers get drunk and dance around the flames. They’ll never be younger than right now, never feel as much love for each other as they do right now.

She is besides an old man who warms his hands from the fire coming from an abandoned trash can.

She lies on a bed as a girl lights two dozen candles around it as a surprise for when her lover gets home.

She watches a young man make dinner for his boyfriend for the first time and burn the chicken on both sides. They eat it together anyway.

She sits on the kitchen counter when a sister takes out a pie from the oven, made special for her little brother’s birthday.

She is there when a father ticks the thermostat up high in freezing dawn of morning so it will be warm by the time his wife and children awaken.

Most people don’t have hearths anymore. But there is warmth, and love, and for Hestia that is enough.

~

As their names fade from existence, as his name is called less and less on the battlefields of mortal men, the more Ares sleeps.

He falls asleep in too tall trees and on park benches. He sleeps in seedy motel rooms and naps in every one of Athena’s libraries. He sleeps curled up on a chair in Aphrodite’s office, and on the floors of a lot of veteran resource centers. As fast as he can tell, that’s the most they help any veteran.

Still, his favorite place to sleep is the underworld.

He goes knocking on Orpheus’s door, who is always willing to play for him. “Hades is here,” Eurydice says, “Would you like to me to go get him?”

He shakes his head, “Persephone is home. I wouldn’t want to intrude.”

Eurydice and Orpheus share the same look of faint disapproval, but neither of the say anything, for which he is grateful.

He lies in the soft grass of the garden Persephone made, and lets Orpheus’s playing lull him to sleep.

Later, he’s woken by strong arms picking him up and holding him against a familiar chest. He doesn’t even have to open his eyes to know who’s holding him. “I can go,” he yawns, his actions at odds with his words as he pulls himself even closer the warmth coming off the king of the underworld.

“No,” Hades says. “Stay.”

Ares lets out a content sigh as Hades presses his lips to his forehead, and he’s not great about touch, about people laying their hands on him and getting in his space. But Hades has always felt safe, felt like home.

He stays.

~

The gods are dead.

Long live the gods.


gods and monster series, part xiv

read more of the gods and monsters series here

⇁ nudes, not flowers | 02

Originally posted by bangtannoonas

pairing⇁Hoseok x Reader x Jungkook

genre⇁smut || fuckboi!au

warnings⇁voyeurism + exhibitionism, dom!junghope, power play?, dirty talk!!!, jealousy, demeaning names during sex, the threesome, & probably other warnings byE 

word count⇁10.4k 

You’re not supposed to fall for Jung Hoseok and his repertoire of awful pick-up lines—but you do. The problem is: he’s afraid of commitment, and bolts at the idea of settling down. After that, you decide to stay far away from fuckboys, but his friend decides to test your new found resolutions.

or : Jungkook wants to see how far he can push Hoseok until he snaps

 ⇁  01 | 02 (final)  sequel

Keep reading

The night starts with a big, spicy Philly cheese steak. It’s about 6pm. I’ve been wanting to try the cheese steak from this corny, 50’s retro place for a long time. I gobble down the big greasy bowl of meat, hot sauce, and cheese, then head to the coffee shop for my weekly draw group. A little after I get home, about 10pm, a stomach ache comes on. “Damn, guess spicy foods are out.” I’ve been getting stomach aches every time I have spicy Thai or hot wings. I google search about spice pain- possible stomach ulcer? “I guess I have been stressed lately, but no more than usual I don’t think…” File under “Will investigate further later.“ According to the comments on this health website, a glass of milk will help. Gulp one down, go to bed.

Wrestle to sleep for about an hour. Realize the ache is just over the required pain threshold to keep you from sleeping. Do some work on my comic, more tired, but stomach worse. Will play batman until I fall asleep. I feel like I’m just running in circles… How many times have I failed this mission? Batman, batman, stomach now hurts too bad to enjoy an active task like video games. Deliriously tired. Would be great to sleep through the rest of this abdominal temper tantrum. Try the old “hot shower will make you sleep” trick. Take some Pepto-Bismol, and some generic acetaminophen. Out of the shower, hurts to walk around now, and to lie down. Guess I’ll have to wait it out with my eyes open. Call and leave my Doc a message, maybe will get a spot in there tomorrow. Need to get that ulcer discovered… Time to enjoy a passive task like watching TV. Breaking Bad feels like the right mixture of funny and painful, just like me and my burning spice belly. Damn, I can’t even enjoy that part where during Hank’s interrogation of that meth head, Wendy, she accuses Hank of trying to buy sexual services from her on behalf of an underage “football player” (a misunderstanding involving Walter Jr. from a few episodes before). Oh hell. Time to look up what time emergency medical clinics open. Guess I’ll have to pay out of pocket since I can’t wait for my Doc tomorrow.  It’s about 4am now. Earliest clinic opens at 8. Now hungry again, but can’t eat what with all the pain. One hour down. Man, this is really starting to hurt. Can I really wait 3 more hours? Sitting is starting to hurt as much as lying and standing. And I’m still not enjoying TV. Okay, I’ve come to a decision…. 

“Hey, Kayla, my stomach still hurts, I’m thinking about driving to the ER, do you wanna come?” “Oh! Ya, sure. What time is it?” “It’s 5:30”. I  call the hospital “Hey, I’ve had a pretty bad stomach ache all night, I’m thinking of coming by.” Operator: *long pause* “Haha, well, okay! We’re open all night, so just come on in.” 

Driving with a stomach ache is not so bad, because you’re already hunched over. Wish Kayla could drive, but she doesn’t really know how, probably would have a panic attack and would definitely crash. Interesting that they have ER parking, I wonder how many ER patients drive themselves here… All bodily positions hurt my insides now, signing in to this place sucks. Give Kayla half the paperwork to fill out, glad she’s here, or this would be really boring. Man, they sure take a long time for someone trying to get into an empty emergency room… Signing in with a nurse, she ask me my height and I say “ ‘5’’8”, but I notice she puts down “ ‘5’’7”… They want to look at my pee, they always want to see my pee. I pee, no blood, so whatever that tells them means I’m getting an ultrasound first. Then a young nurse named Ken, a cool Asian dude with screws through both ears, squirts so much morphine into my IV that I lean back and audibly say “oh my god.” I feel it ripple like a shock wave from my arm down to the ends of my body. My belly is feeling alright now. 

The ultrasound technician tells me that babies are the least common thing she uses ultrasounds for. My joke has fallen flat. Back in the room, the doctor and his manila folder tell me “Good news! No gallstones, there are kidney stones inside your kidneys, but since they are inside, you shouldn’t be feeling the pain from those.” “Wait, does that mean I have to pee those stones out at some poin–” It is not discussed again. Seeing that neither organ has the appropriate stones, Doc would “rather not expose me to more radiation than necessary” and is working on discharging me. But, “I won’t leave here without a diagnosis.” 

In I go to the CT scan tube. That hot squish of contrast dye spreading through my veins. “Okay, we’re moving you into a room upstairs.” Says a hippy technician. Upstairs in my sweet and swanky single with couch, a person I’m pretty sure is just a businessman disguised in medical scrubs types on a computer. He takes down my answers to what seem like pre-surgery questions. “Do you have anybody specific on file in the event you are medically unable to yield consent  for yourself?” This, combined fact that they won’t feed me, makes me wonder what it is I’m going into surgery for. I saw this same thing about a year and a half ago with the whole brain debacle, but that’s a story for another time. Several medical people dip in, sprinkle breadcrumbs of information; it’s like a game show challenge that combines a scavenger hunt with a jigsaw puzzle. You have to gather the pieces of information from their hiding places, then assemble them in the correct order to reveal an answer. A tech comes in and spoils the game, “You seem to have a lot of questions, so I just want to make sure, you know you have appendicitis right? We’re about to take it out.” “Thank god,” I think. “It’s not the spicy foods. Spicy foods are still in.” Downstairs, in pre-op, I complain to my plain-clothes surgeon about how analog tests like pressing on my stomach are remarkably inaccurate, since a doctor’s subjective interpretation of my poor description of say, “the pain is slightly higher” can rule out appendicitis, the same appendicitis that a machine might spot an hour later. I tell him that I almost got sent home. My surgeon tells me he’s been doing analogue tests for 30 years, and not to worry about it. I start to tell him how “my deadpan reaction to pain also causes a lot of people to misdiagnose me, that a lot of people laugh when I describe how I’m in pai–”, but he walks away in the middle to get dressed for surgery. The operating room has big TVs and lights, it looks like a set, and I consider the possibility of fake hospitals as the anesthesia takes the wheel.

In the recovery area, the nurse tells me how big, inflamed appendixes can be agitated by spicy foods, foods high in fat, and dense foods like heavy cheese. I see an image of a spotlit cheese steak appear in a black void. Nurse feeds me ice chips and tells me she craves ice chips when she’s dehydrated. I suggest that she only craves ice chips because she works in a hospital, that ice chips are too unsatisfying a thing to crave at random, and that most people would just crave water. She agrees. Back upstairs in my room, it is now 8pm, and it has been 26 hours since I’ve eaten. I’ve been hydrated only through IV’s. The driest mouth and the clearest pee. Because the lingering anesthetic can cause nausea and vomiting, they will only give me jello. I go nuts on the jello. They continue to give me every jello I ask for, one at a time, like a test. Way past where I though the cutoff point would be, the nurse tells me “That’s it! There’s no more jello! You ate all the jello on this floor.” You’re damn right I did, you’re damn right….

The Dragon and His Knight

“C’mon, Teddy, it’s time to sleep,” Harry said for about the millionth time that night.

“No! I don’t want to sleep. I want to see Draco,” Teddy responded stubbornly. The four year old crossed his arms and scowled at his godfather.

Harry sighed a long suffering sigh. “Teddy, I’m sure Draco is busy grading papers. We don’t want to interrupt him.”

“Yes we do!” Teddy said.

For the past two hours, Harry had been trying to get the little menace to go to bed, but Teddy kept insisting that he wouldn’t comply until he got to visit his cousin, Draco. Harry was reluctant to bring Teddy to Professor Malfoy’s rooming quarters for more than one reason. The first reason being that, like he said, he was sure Draco would be grading papers and would get ornery if someone interrupted his work. The second reason was that Harry had no idea where he stood with Draco after what happened yesterday. Harry hoped that he hadn’t completely ruined his and Draco’s friendship by kissing him, especially since that friendship meant so much to him.

“Please, Harry,” Teddy begged.

Harry weighed his options. On the one hand, he could refuse to bring Teddy to visit Draco, which would mean Harry would get about four hours of sleep, and probably fall asleep in the middle of a Defense Against the Dark Arts lecture tomorrow. On the other hand, if he did bring Teddy to visit Draco, he would have to see Draco, and talk to Draco, and try to hide the fact that he was incredibly, stupidly in love with Draco.

But then Teddy made the choice for Harry by screaming at the top of his lungs, “I won’t go to sleep until we see Draco!”

“Shh, Teddy,” Harry said. He hurriedly covered Teddy’s mouth with his hand. Harry was really not in the mood to get reprimanded by McGonagall for waking up the entire school. “We’ll go see Draco, okay? But we’re going to be very quiet, and we’re only going to stay for a little bit.”

“Yay!” Teddy said when Harry removed his hand. His hair changed from an angry red into a bright turquoise.

Harry led Teddy through the empty, dark halls of Hogwarts, holding him by the hand to prevent the child from sprinting ahead. When they reached the door to Draco’s room in the dungeons, Teddy said excitedly, “I’ll hide behind you, so I can surprise him!” Harry smiled at Teddy’s enthusiasm, even though he was still quite irritated with the boy.

Harry took a deep breath and then knocked on Draco’s door. He heard a muffled “fuck” on the other side of the door.

“What do you want?” Draco’s sharp voice sounded from inside.

Harry didn’t say anything, as he was afraid Draco wouldn’t open the door if he knew who it was, so he knocked again.

“For Merlin’s sake,” Draco said irritably, and the door to his quarters swung open reveal a flustered, pajama-cladden Draco. “Harry,” Draco said. He looked- and sounded -just as surprised to see Harry as Harry was to see him. Well, Harry wasn’t exactly surprised to see Draco, but he was surprised to see the state that Draco was in. His normally groomed-to-perfection blond hair was all ruffled and messed up, sticking out at awkward angles. Draco’s pajamas consisted of a white cotton t-shirt that was just tight enough to show off his lean, muscled frame, and pants with a small pattern on them that suspiciously resembled Harry’s glasses and scar. Frankly, Draco was adorable and sexy at the same time, and the sight was nearly enough to make Harry swoon.

“What the fuck are you doing here, Potter?” Draco asked, pulling Harry out of a fantasy in which he was running his fingers through Draco’s tousled hair.

“Language,” Harry replied, remembering that Teddy was also there.

“Language? Are you serious, Potter? I’ve heard you say much worse. And by the way, you didn’t answer my ques-”
Draco was cut off by Teddy abruptly jumping out from behind Harry and shouting, “Surprise!” The little boy ran towards Draco and hugged his legs. His hair was now the same platinum color of Draco’s.

“Teddy,” Draco said, shocked. He looked from Teddy to Harry, confusion in his eyes.

“Andromeda made last minute plans to go on a date and asked me to take Teddy for the night,” Harry explained, looking down at his feet to avoid eye contact. “Anyways, Teddy refused to go to bed unless he got to visit you.”

“Andromeda is dating?”

Harry laughed. That was not the question he was expecting. “I suppose so.”

“Who?” Draco asked.

“Er, I don’t know. She’s your aunt, after all. Shouldn’t you know who she’s dating?”

Draco shrugged. He smiled down at Teddy and bent down to pick him up. And, no, Harry definitely did not look at Draco’s arse when he bent down. He did not. And he certainly did not wish he could touch Draco’s arse. And when Draco lifted Teddy to rest at his hip, Harry was not admiring Draco’s arm muscles. And if he was, it was completely innocent. There was no way Harry was imagining Draco’s arms pinning Harry to a bed.

“I’m glad you came to visit me,” Draco said to Teddy with a smile.

“Me too,” Teddy said. “I wish I could live at Hogwarts and be with you and Harry all the time.”

Draco chuckled. “That would be an adventure.”

Harry was beginning to feel awkward so he said to Teddy, “Well, now that you’ve seen Draco, are you ready to go to bed?”

“No!” Teddy replied instantly, clinging to Draco. “Draco has to tell me a story first. He tells the best stories.”

Harry looked to Draco, who just grinned with a shrug. “It’s true,” Draco said. “Uh, you can come inside if you want.”

Harry’s heart immediately started being faster at the thought of being in Draco’s room. “Sure,” Harry said, careful not to sound too eager.

Draco moved to the side to let Harry in and then shut the door. Harry surveyed the room in awe. The far wall was completely made of glass, and on the other side of the glass was the green-tinted water of the Black Lake. There wasn’t much to look at, just some seaweed and and fish, but it was beautiful anyway. Teddy ran over to look out at the lake as Harry turned his attention to the furniture in the room. Draco’s bed was near the glass wall, and so were his wardrobe and trunk. More in the middle of the room was a fireplace, a sofa, and two armchairs. Harry jealously wondered who Draco invited over to sit in those armchairs. The part of the room that Harry was standing in seemed to be Draco’s personal potions lab. There was a desk covered in papers, and a long table with a cauldron and many potions ingredients on it.

“What do you think?” Draco suddenly asked. Somehow he had ended up standing right next to Harry.

Harry shivered at the close proximity and answered honestly, “It’s nice.”

Draco seemed pleased. He smiled and even blushed a little. “Thanks. Guess I should give Teddy that story now.”

Harry nodded. He watched Draco walk over to Teddy and silently admired the elegance in Draco’s movements.


Five minutes later, Harry and Draco were settled in the armchairs and Teddy was nestled between a thick layer of blankets and the soft cushions of Draco’s sofa. Draco was deep in a story about a beautiful silver dragon that was being hunted down by the people in a nearby kingdom, because the dragon was thought to be dangerous.

“The people had no way of knowing that the dragon was really a handsome prince that had been cursed to be a dragon until he met his true love,” Draco was saying. Teddy looked at his cousin with reverence, hanging onto his every word. Draco didn’t notice that Harry was doing the same. “So the king chose one of his knights, the most brave and noble one, to go find the dragon and slay it.”

Teddy gasped. “No,” he whispered.

“The knight did as he was told and left for the mountains, where the Dragon was hiding.”

“Did he kill the dragon?” Teddy asked impatiently.

“Well, when he found the dragon, it was asleep. The knight was ready to kill it, he had his sword posed to strike, but then the dragon opened its eyes. And guess what happened when the knight looked into the dragon’s eyes?”

“The dragon turned back into a prince,” Harry answered automatically.

Draco looked at Harry amusedly. “I was asking Teddy.”

“Oh, of course.”

“Anyway,” Draco continued. “The dragon was suddenly enveloped in a magical, blinding light. When the light was gone, the knight was astonished to find that there was no more dragon. Instead, there was a man. It was the prince, but he didn’t have a crown, or any fancy robes, so the knight thought he was just a commoner. Since the knight was noble, he helped the prince nonetheless and promised to take him to the kingdom. As the two traveled to the kingdom, they became very close and began to fall in love. It wasn’t until they arrived at the kingdom that the prince revealed the truth about himself and the curse that could only be broken by true love. The knight and the prince got married the next day and lived happily ever after.” Draco was whispering by the end of the story, because Teddy had begun to fall asleep.

Harry smiled at Draco. He liked the story, and he especially liked the dragon. Draco saw Harry’s smile and he returned it before getting up and gesturing for Harry to follow him. Draco led Harry to his office, which was connected to his room by a short passageway.

“Thanks for telling Teddy that story,” Harry said once the two of them had made themselves comfortable in the office- Draco in his leather chair, and Harry sitting on Draco’s desk with his legs hanging off the edge.

“No problem. I can keep him for the rest of the night if you want,” Draco offered.

“You don’t have-”

“No, it’s fine. I want to.”

“Okay,” Harry agreed.

There was a beat of silence.

“I feel li-”

“I like your pajama pants,” Harry said, cutting off Draco, because he wasn’t ready for rejection yet.

Draco’s face went pink. “They were a gift,” he disclosed.

“Right,” Harry said. He smirked and Draco’s blush increased.

“Pansy thinks she’s bloody hilarious,” Draco muttered irritably.

“Kudos to Pansy for selecting such a great gift.”

Draco rolled his eyes.

More silence.

“We need to talk,” Draco said.

Harry exhaled deeply. No more pretending then. “I know.”

“You kissed me. Why?”

Tell him it was a mistake, tell him you didn’t mean it, tell him you want to forget it ever happened, screamed a voice in Harry’s head. But Harry was tired of lying to Draco, and to himself. He summoned all of his Gryffindor courage and confessed, “Because I like you. I really, really like you, and I’ve wanted to kiss you everyday for almost a year now. And yesterday I just couldn’t stop myself. You were standing there, rambling about your new potion, and you were so excited and passionate and I felt like my heart was exploding.”

Draco stared at Harry like his whole world had been turned upside down.


The next morning…

When Andromeda came by Hogwarts to pick up her grandson and found Harry’s room empty, she knew the next logical place to look was Draco’s room. But when she arrived at Draco’s room, what happened next was not at all logical. Because little Teddy was the one to greet her at the door.

“Where are Draco and Harry, sweetheart?” she asked the small boy.

“In bed,” Teddy answered like it was obvious.

Andromeda’s heart nearly stopped. If Draco and Harry had finally gotten together, she was thrilled, but she was appalled to think that the two of them would be doing things while Teddy was in the room.

She stalked over to Draco’s bed and was relieved to find that Draco and Harry were fully clothed. Draco was leaning against the headboard as he slept, and Harry’s head rested peacefully in his lap. A book entitled The Dragon and His Knight lie on the bedside table.

“Are Draco and Harry true loves?” Teddy asked his grandmother.

Andromeda smiled. “I think so.”
“Are they gonna live happily forever after?”

“Of course they are. That’s what true loves do, isn’t it?”

Twenty things I’ve learned in Twenty Years

1. Life will break you down until you’re crawling on your hands and knees, until you feel like you are Atlas holding the world upon your shoulders, until you feel like the raging inferno inside of your chest is going to combust. These are the moments that will forge you in a fire and make you more unbreakable than diamonds.

2. We are made of stardust, at least that’s what they say. I remember someone told me that every atom in my body once belonged to a star that exploded. At night I stare at my hands and wonder when I will erupt. I know now that I cannot trust anyone else to keep me whole in the darkest hours of the night but my own two star infused arms.

3. You will fall in love, and that is okay. Sometimes we need to fall in love to remember that there is good out there. Fall in love with the boy who opens the door for you, fall in love with your boss who works too hard, fall in love with the woman who hands out roses on that one street corner, fall in love with yourself.

4. They weren’t lying when they said we accept the love we think we deserve. I grew up being told I was a mistake and so I adopted the idea that no one could ever love a mistake. I was wrong (they were wrong) and now it’s up to me to prove them wrong. Don’t believe the things they said, you are so much more than the toxins they tried to poison you with.

5. Close your eyes, count to ten, and open them again. You are not alone. I know it may feel like you are the only one, but believe me when I say that you aren’t. I was where you are, and now I have talked to more people that have been through much worse than I than I would like to admit to. You are never alone, not really.

6. Music can save. Play it as loud as you can with the windows down as you drive (probably a little too fast). Play it while you are at work and while you are in the shower and play it when you want to give up in the middle of the day and when you want to give up in the middle of the night. Just play the music that tugs at your heartstrings, it may save you.

7. Nothing in life is easy, not really. You will catch a few breaks here and there, but the rest of the time you will find yourself fighting tooth and nail to make it back to the top. Don’t give up, I almost did this year and if I had I wouldn’t be able to witness what the sun looks like shining in her eyes.

8. You will have scars, and that’s fine. We all have them but it’s up to you if you want to hide them or show your battle wounds to the world so they know how strong of a warrior you are, so they know not to fuck with you.

9. Watch the sunrise, and watch the sunset. There is something about the sun that screams life; let the light bleed into you and consume you until you shine with it. Sometimes it’s the simple things we are missing in life that we need the most.

10. They will say they love you and then they will turn around and break your heart. You cannot compare your life’s worth to the empty spaces that were once filled around you. People will leave (willing or not) and life will go on. Let life go on.

11. If you are under the impression you are broken, then it is up to you to decide if you are or not. It took me years to admit that I was never quite whole, but when I did it was the most freeing feeling ever. Brokenness does not take away from perfection, and you are the very definition of perfect.

12. It’s okay to let people in, you don’t need to cage yourself away from the rest of the world, don’t forget to live your life while you pursue safeness.

13. Hobbies will save you when all else fails you, find a hobby and stick to it. When the world feels all too loud, a hobby can make you go deaf.

14. The moment you realize Wonder Woman or any other superhero you idolized as a child is not going to swoop down and save you is when your life changes. You have to be your own hero in this world. Stop waiting for someone to save you and go save yourself.

15. They are gone, she took her own life and he died in a car crash and she died from cancer and he left. You cannot live your life counting how many people that held a piece of your heart vanished, I’m not saying to forget about them I’m just saying that it’s okay to say goodbye.  

16. It’s okay to cry; cry in the shower and in bed and in your car, being sad is okay as long as you don’t let it consume you.

17. Smile as much as you can even on the bad days.

18. For God’s sake, don’t let them ruin you. You are so strong, you’ve made it this far and that means you can make it another day. If you can get through today you can get through tomorrow and every day that follows. If you feel like you can’t get through the day then sit down and don’t move until the light is peaking in through your window.

19. Never say never. If you think you can’t do something try anyway, this is your life, you are the main character of your own story, but you are also the author of your story. Write it however you want, but don’t give up halfway through.

20. Just don’t take your life. While this is something I learned this year I’m also writing this as a reminder to myself and to you. Don’t do it, please. There can be more to life than what you are feeling right now, don’t rob yourself of the beauty of this world. Don’t give up, no matter how much it hurts.
—  An open letter to myself, and to you. (Sometimes I write until I run out of words) ALightLitInTheDark
You’re His Ex Girlfriend and You See His New Girlfriend Wearing Your T-Shirt: Part 2

Part 1

Masterlist linked in bio


Growing up, people told Y/n that you could die from a broken heart—that the stress on your heart strings could weaken, and all that’s left is the pain in your chest.

Y/n thought her heart would fail her, rupture all that’s left of her and leave her body to decompose. She believed that, if her broken heart wasn’t going to kill her, loneliness and lack of sleep would push her towards her end.

Moving on—something that seemed so simple yet so impossible for Y/n to do.

When the hurt in her chest and the hallucinations from exhaustion started to become too much for her to handle, she was willing to do anything to help herself. She started taking up yoga sessions, started writing music, even started cooking in an attempt to bring herself back from whatever hell she was in.

She even considered moving on; meeting a man at a bar and getting to know more about him rather than his drink order. But something seemed so wrong about that—something was unsettled inside of her at the thought of being with someone who wasn’t Harry.

The image of Jessica in Harry and Y/n’s t-shirt was enough to haunt her nearly every hour of the day. She started going mental, constantly wondering what they were doing together in the moments she was most vulnerable. She wondered about their love life, their future, their interests. She thought about everything.

It wasn’t until Gabby was determined to mend the broken girl raiding her house, finding any possible excuse to give her a sense of life again, that Y/n found the slightest bit of hope.

Y/n was losing it, entirely, and Gabby refused to continue being a bystander.

Gabby had set Y/n up on a blind date only a couple weeks back, practically begging her to seize every opportunity she possibly can to get over Harry. It was all Gabby could do to help her, considering nothing quite helped Y/n’s well-being since the breakup.


“Oh, he’s just so perfect!” Gabby squealed, clapping her hands before gripping tightly around Y/n’s wrists in excitement. “He’s gorgeous! Amazing blue eyes—breathtaking, really! And he’s so sweet, Y/n! I haven’t met a single person who’s disliked him and he’s such an amazing photographer! And his teeth! His teeth are marvelous! Do you know how hard it is nowadays to find a man with nice teeth? I mean—“

By then, Y/n had dozed off, and it wasn’t for any personal reason against Gabby; she’s appreciated every bit of hard work to help her through the heartbreak Y/n’s been dealing with nearly half of a year now. It’s just that she wasn’t ready to move on, not that she didn’t want to.

It had been nearly five months, which may seem like such an abundance of time to rid feelings for somebody, but did time really help moving on from someone she’d planned to spend the rest of her life with? It seemed nearly impossible. She could barely see herself looking at other men in a romantic sense, how could she see herself going on a date with somebody? Especially when she was still in love with somebody else?

She was biting the bullet with letting time heal her, but she felt that was the only way. Nothing more could help her. If anything, she believed dating would make it worse, if she were being honest.

But the look of excitement Gabby had at the mere thought of Y/n being happy again was something Y/n found nearly impossible to resist. Besides, she had definitely been overstaying her welcome at Gabby’s house no matter how much Gabby’s tried to deny it and has put so much stress onto her that maybe, just maybe, doing this one favor for all that she’s done for her.

“So, what do you say?”

Y/n blinked harshly when Gabby’s voice drowned out all the scrambled thoughts in her head, shaking her head slightly to regain her understanding of reality.

“What?”

“Monmouth Coffee Shop at noon tomorrow. Dan really wants to meet you, Y/n! Please!”

Y/n’s eyes widened, snapping her head up to meet Gabby’s hopeful eyes.

“The Monmouth?! Are you crazy?! That’s Harry’s favorite coffee shop, you know that! Dan and Harry probably know each other, that’s how much he goes there!”

Gabby’s eyes narrowed as her lips pursed, gaze directing toward the ceiling in thought.

“Harry? Harry who? I don’t remember who that is, never heard that name in my life.”

Her tone reeked with sarcasm, which made Y/n’s eyes nearly roll to the back of her head. As much as she wished Gabby’s negative remarks about Harry were comedic, there was always something about them that infuriated her. She always supposed it was the instinctual aspect of loving someone so much.

Gabby sighed as she reached her hand up to rub Y/n’s shoulder gently.

“Look,” she began, “you’re my best friend and I hate seeing you like this. You’re not the same Y/n I always knew, and I think you see yourself that way, too. And in all honesty, I don’t give a fuck about Harry anymore. As sadistic and twisted as it sounds, I don’t care about his emotions, or how he feels. He did this to you. He killed a part of you and I feel it’s my obligation to help you through this. So, please, go out with Dan tomorrow. He works at Monmouth, he’ll meet you before his shift starts at 1:30.”

Gabby’s arm slid off of Y/n’s shoulder at the shadow of uncertainty behind her eyes. Even though Gabby understood all the pain and hesitation, she didn’t want to see Y/n suffer another day. She just couldn’t.

“Please,” she whimpered, “Dan has been the only sense of hope I’ve gotten to make you happy again. Just do this one thing, please? And if it doesn’t work, then you can blame me. I’m just trying here.”

Y/n coughed slightly, her inability to say no wearing off of her at Gabby’s desperate pleads. It was an opportunity to turn things back around in her life, and if it didn’t go as planned, she really didn’t have anything more to lose.

She nods her head softly.

“Yeah—yeah, okay. I’ll meet him.”

Maybe this would be good for her.


Dan is lovely, always caring for Y/n and making sure she feels like loyalty whenever she’s around. He puts her first, in everything, and made a rule that the date can’t end until I hear you laugh at least six times.

It’s cute, really, how effortless he is at giving someone so much attention. Y/n likes it—loves it, even, but it still never feels right to her. She sees something with him, but nothing long term, not in the way she sees Harry.

But he’s good for her now, when she’s at her worst and needs someone to be there for her. He’s able to provide her with the company she desperately needs in order to cure the possible fatalities that came with her broken heart.

“Thank you for the coffee, it was great.” Y/n smiles softly, her cheeks blushing slightly as she traces the rim of her coffee cup.

It’s nearly their tenth date, and they still meet at the Monmouth at noon before his shift. It’s become a routine for them, meeting together at noon before Dan drops her off at the parking station. It became something they both looked forward to throughout their week, and soon became more of a tradition between them.

Dan grins, almost instinctively wrapping his arms around Y/n’s shoulders so that her head makes rest on his chest. He sighs, pressing a small kiss to the top of her head before resting his chin where his lips once were.

“Of course. I’ll be getting out at around 6 o‘clock so maybe I can stop by for a few? Maybe watch a movie?”

He knows the answer before she says it—his constant attempts to get closer to her always seeming to fail. There’s always a hesitation, or always an excuse to prevent them from being alone together.

He’s well aware that there are parts of her that need to be fixed, still being completely destructed by her ex-lover. He’s tried tirelessly to get her to open up and to trust him, but there’s a thick barrier still in their way of each other. It disheartens him, to know she refuses to let him in.

She sighs, guilt evident in her breath as she softly pushes away from him.

She does that often, he’s noticed it.

She feels horrible for doing so every time. Everything between them has remained stagnant, nothing being built so that nothing could be knocked down. It’s not that Y/n doesn’t trust him, it’s that Y/n doesn’t trust herself. She’s still in love with someone else, and she can’t hurt Dan—not in that way.

“I think I’m just going to—“

“Yeah, I know.” Dan nods, arms moving to cross at his chest, “I get it. Just like every other time.”

Y/n reaches her shaking fingers to brush her hair behind her ear, guilt flashing in her eyes as she refuses to meet his gaze. She’s familiar with the look he has on his face well enough to know he’s upset again, being constantly shut down by her.

“I’m so sorry, Dan.” She whispers, “But I’m trying. I want to keep trying with you. If you let me.”

He looks unconvinced, as he’s been hearing this for a while now. But something inside of him can’t quit her, no matter how much his intuition tells him she’s a dead end. Maybe he feels sorry for her on a level he’s never felt sorrow for somebody else. No matter how much she hides it, she really does need him. Not in a romantic level, but she does need him to show her that he cares for her and that he’ll always be there. She needs that sense of security, and he’s the only one that can provide it for her.

“Yeah,” he nods, “we can keep trying. It’s okay, I’m here for you.“


Harry had been living in his studio for the past couple of weeks. It certainly wasn’t ideal, but it was much better than sleeping on his and Y/n’s bed—alone.

That’s all he’s felt since their break up—lonely. It’s quite strange, considering Harry had millions of supporters, an entire band throughout his solo career, and producers around him nearly every hour of the day. He used to complain that he never had alone time anymore, that between all the constant traveling and being at the peak of his career, it was hard to find time for himself.

But now, in the midst of everything happening in his life, he wishes to feel that sort of hustle again.

Y/n was the person that kept him grounded through everything. She was the one consistency in his life, which gave him all the more reasons to love her. Whenever he was overwhelmed with the pressure put on him, or feeling homesick during his travels, she was always the one to keep him at bay and give him a sense of clarity.

Home hadn’t become a house, instead, Y/n’s heart. Wherever she was, he felt at home. Even when she was half way across the world, it was her voice that brought him back and reminded him that, no matter how much he missed the walls of familiarity, home was always a phone call away. She gave him that sense of comfort everywhere she went, it was truly amazing.

And when he broke up with Y/n, he didn’t think of how much everything around him would be affected. He thought time would do them best—would help mend the relationship that seemed to be collapsing beneath their feet. Their connections were lost, replaces by uncomfortable silences and unbarring arguments.

He didn’t think of the consequences when he did it. He didn’t think about how lost he’d become, or how he had no place to call home, or how there was no consistency in his life anymore. There were so many aspects of his life that Y/n had given him—so much of them that he didn’t realize until she moved out.

It was the exact reason he started dating Jessica. She was a great distraction, a beautiful woman to take his mind off of everything.

They weren’t much of anything. Nothing about them was exclusive besides what the media saw of them: boyfriend and girlfriend moving in together in London. It was far from the truth, really. He was with her to terminate his dry spell and rid his loneliness, and she was with him because he infatuated her.

He ended it all, though, that same morning Y/n found Jessica wearing their shirt. The entire incident gave him a realization; that nobody could fill his void like Y/n did.

The fear of losing her forever and making her believe he was in love with somebody else was enough to break him out of his selfish ways. She had been waiting for him for months, and when he returned, he wasn’t the same man he was.

Not only did Harry know that Y/n lost all her faith in him—he lost all faith in himself, as well.


“I’m so screwed, Nick. I fucked up everything. Everything.”

Harry was laying with his back flat against the studio couch, hands rubbing down his face as he tried to steady his harsh breathing.

It was just after he had run into Y/n at the grocery store, where she had seen Jessica wearing Harry and Y/n’s t-shirt. Although he was practically mute during the encounter, everything hit him at once after Y/n and Gabby walked out.

He called Nick in a hurry, incoherent and completely disoriented from the tears he’d broken down into. Everything he thought would be mended completely fell down on them—all because of him.

“Jessica was wearing the shirt with the—fuck, you know the shirt, and Y/n saw and she was such a mess, Nick. I didn’t even say anything to her, she was practically begging me to say something and I didn’t say a word.”

Nick sat cross-armed on one of the chairs, directly across from Harry. He wished he could have felt remorse seeing Harry in such distress, however, he never agreed with Harry’s actions and made it clear numerous times. In his eyes, this was karma’s ticking time bomb.

“You tend to be a real jackass sometimes, you know that?”

Harry lifted himself up so that he could sit properly. His body slumped against the back of the couch, head rested in his palm as he coughed uncomfortably at Nick’s choice of words.

“You let go of the best thing that’s ever happened to you and then you just move on, as if she meant nothing, and you think you just fucked it all up now? Over the goddamn t-shirt?”

Harry scowled at him.

“I haven’t moved on, and it’s more than just a t-shirt, you know that. That was ours.” Harry defended, glaring over at his direction.

“So why was Jessica wearing it after you fucked her on the bed you and Y/n shared every night for the past three years?”

Something about Nick’s words gave Harry a foul taste in his mouth. As much as he wished Nick didn’t say it in that way, that’s exactly what Harry did, and knowing he had to live with that for the rest of his life made his stomach flip inside of him.

He really did fuck it up. Nothing he did was excusable, nothing he did was forgivable. He betrayed the one woman he loved so dearly—the one woman he’d always consider his soulmate. He really, really fucked it up.

He gulped as he tried to find words to justify himself. There was really nothing he could say.

“She—she had just put it on while I was sleeping and when—when I noticed she just wouldn’t shut up about breakfast and I couldn’t just be like ‘Hey, Jess, could you take off that shirt? That belonged to me and my ex-girlfriend and I don’t appreciate it?’ How could I do that?”

He sighed, leaning his face into the palm of his hands as he looked back onto his experiences with Jessica. Was it all worth it? Was she really worth all of this?

“She means nothing to me, Nick. I lost the girl I love for somebody who doesn’t mean anything to me.” He whispered, “How do I live knowing that?”


It’s nearly two in the afternoon when Harry finally decides to leave his studio. He’s been working on some songs he found himself writing during his free time, something he found therapeutic throughout the past couple of months.

Recording and writing have become the only distractions that seem to work for Harry. Everything else became temporary. Writing out his emotions and singing the words he wishes he could say has been the only sense of closure he’s had in a while.

“Dan! Long time no see!” Harry smiles when he enters Monmouth, a familiar face being something he finds so relieving.

Dan looks up from his register, reaching over the counter to give Harry a hug as he greets him enthusiastically.

“Haven’t seen you in quite a while. On your lunch break?”

Harry nods as his eyes squint, reaching for the back of his neck as he reads over the menu.

“Yeah, kind of in a hurry today if you don’t mind. Can I just get a medium coffee with almond milk, please? And a slice of apple pie, feeling kind of brisk today.”

Dan works his fingers across the cash register, yelling out his order to the barista before making small talk about the weather. Considering Harry hasn’t been seen in Monmouth nearly as much as he used to, they both found it nice to catch up with each other for the short while they’ve been distanced.

When Dan reaches over to give Harry his spare change, an all too familiar silver ring catches his attention immediately. At first glance, he swears his heart stopped beating.

There’s no way, there’s just no way that could be the ring Harry gave to Y/n. Dan and Y/n have never met before, considering she had only visited here a handful of times during Harry’s lunch break. And even then, she would just stand patiently by the door while Harry waited to retrieve his order.

There’s just no way, but the top of the rose has a particular rust on it that resembles Harry’s perfectly—and no matter how long it’s been since he’s seen it, he’ll never forget what it looks like.

Harry’s hand grips onto Dan’s wrist instead of reaching out to grab the spare change laying upon his palm, flipping over his hand to inspect the silver ring snug almost too perfectly around his finger. He’s aggressive, movements harsh and face tight with anger, but at this point in time, the last thing Harry’s worried about is Dan’s slightly intimidated composure.

“Where did you get this?”

Unlike his demeanor, his voice is soft and breaking between each word. There’s an unrecognizable shift in his eyes when he sees the wear and tear Harry knows he caused before gifting it to Y/n. This is most definitely his, and knowing Y/n was the one who gave it to him makes him nearly throw up all the contents in his stomach.

“Girlfriend gave it to me,” Dan smiles “well, not really my girlfriend yet. But you know how they are. I told her I liked it and she insisted I have it.”

Harry swallows the lump in his throat, making him nearly whimper when he opens his mouth to speak.

He’s never felt so much pain before. The breaking that was once only in his heart spread like wildfire across every bone and ligament in his body. It burns, the sudden realization that Y/n has a boyfriend, that Y/n is no longer going to be there—waiting for him—the way he always expected her to be, that Y/n has taken it upon herself to seek revenge on him so that he can feel everything she felt that one Sunday morning at the grocery store.

And it’s then he realizes that this is nothing compared to everything he’s put her through. In his favor, this is just a stupid ring her gave her for her birthday because he loved the way she twisted it around his finger. It didn’t have much value between them, just something small they shared. He couldn’t imagine the hurt he would have now, standing her, if Dan were wearing their Lover t-shirt.

“Wh—What’s her name?”

His voice is in a whisper now, only the slightest bit of hope draining from his body when he hears Dan speak again.

“Y/n. She’s a good girl, you’d like her.”

Harry almost laughs. You’d like her. He has no idea, he’s in love with her.

It’s as if every part of Harry’s body begins to shut down. Maybe it’s from the shock, or the overbearing pain he feels in his chest, but he suddenly begins to feel lightheaded. His muscles turn numb and all his orientation seems to scramble as if he’s intoxicated.

Dan’s eyes narrow when he sees all the color drain from his face, his eyes widened and soaked with tears. He watches as he nearly falls backward, only to balance himself with his foot when he takes a proper step away from the counter.

“Harry? Harry, you alright?”

Never fucking say my name again is the first proper thought that his brain can register. But his throat is tight and his tongue is numb. He attempts to take a breath of air, but he feels like his lungs are collapsing in his chest, preventing him from doing anything besides stumble uncoordinatedly out of the Monmouth doors.

He’s falling apart—that’s exactly what it feels like. He feels like every limb is falling from his body as he walks towards his car. He doesn’t know exactly how he’s moving, even if he’s stumbling on his own two feet and colliding into stranger’s bodies as he does so, he doesn’t understand how his body finds the strength to keep moving.

Y/n moved on. Y/n’s dating Dan. Y/n gave his ring to him. It’s all over, everything is over.

“No” he mumbles frantically, jealously flowing in his veins, chest heaving from the sobs that are threatening to spill out of him, “no, no no no.”

He starts to wonder where he’s missed it, and exactly how long it’s been since Y/n moved on. She was so broken at the grocery store the other week; what could have possibly altered her feelings that quickly? Did Dan really impact her that much?

But that’s his girl. Y/n is his girl, she’s the one he was so sure he was going to spend the rest of his life with. Even with Jessica, even with everything that’s happened, Y/n is his soulmate, and there isn’t anything in the world that can convince him otherwise.

Nobody is going to take her from him. He refuses to believe she belongs to somebody that isn’t him; there isn’t an atom in his body that doubts their companionship.

Before he thinks twice—before he really gives himself a chance to stop himself—Harry slides his cell phone out of his back pocket once he reaches his car. He slumps against the hood as his fingers work furiously across his screen.

There has to be something, at least some sort of proof that this is really happening to him, that this isn’t in a nightmare he can easily wake himself out of. There had to have been a hint, a warning for him to have. She would have never moved on without saying something to him. They were so strong together, she would have never left without closure.

Nothing about it makes sense.

And then, he sees it.

He falls to his knees, hitting the concrete harshly below him. His body gave out from beneath him, his muscles and bones failing him.

It’s there, right in front of him, mocking him and all the shitty decisions he’s made. It’s there—on Y/n’s private Instagram page—a picture of Dan holding Y/n’s hand on top of a table in Monmouth, Harry’s ring wrapped perfectly around his pointer finger.

Steele rose has never looked so good xx.

If you had told Dex even a week ago that he would willingly be sharing a blanket with Derek Nurse on the floor of the Haus living room all afternoon, pressed together so close they’re practically in each other’s laps, he would’ve laughed in your face.

Now, he just bangs a fist against the side of the old space heater in front of them and subtly pulls Nursey a little closer into his side. Not that there’s all that much closer to pull him.

“I told them,” he mutters. “Draft fucking central.”

He not so much sees as senses Nursey roll his eyes. “Rans and Holtzy not letting you replace all the windowpanes last year is not why the heating went out, yo.”

Intellectually, Dex know this. But it’s easier to blame their former captains for their current predicament than it is to blame the fact that he’s let routine Haus maintenance slide so much this semester that they’ve ended up here. Because if Dex doesn’t keep a close eye on things like the barely functioning water heater, or the garbage disposal that’s missing two blades and is about to fall out of the sink entirely, who will?

Except, well, he’s been distracted this year. From the moment he got back from summer break and moved into the attic with Nursey, he’s been… distracted.

Nursey is distracting.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

How would the Karasuno boys act when they have to buy condoms from Ukai's shop, having to look their coach in the eye as they pay for them?

i laughed for like 10 minutes after reading this request i love it. i’ve been having some health issues lately and needed a good pick-me-up

if you like what i do and want to show your support, consider supporting me on ko-fi!

 - admin rachel lauren


The only way I could rationalize them willingly buying condoms from Sakanoshita–as opposed to any place else–knowing that their coach is minding the shop is that the team has some crazy bet going on and these are in the event that they are the loser of said bet. Whether or not they’re doing the do and actually need them is entirely irrelevant.

Daichi

  • He’s one of the few who don’t make it weird somehow. It’s just another transaction, right? Not to mention that Ukai’s made it clear to them that whatever they do outside of volleyball is none of his business.
  • It’s not embarrassing until he gets to the counter to pay and has a moment of internal panic that this is very awkward. But Daichi’s a master of keeping his composure while screaming internally all the while, so you’d never know.
    • It doesn’t hurt that he buys a few things he actually needs along with them. But still.

Suga

  • He tries to play dumb when they’re rung up: “Whoops, how did those get in there? Well, I guess I’ll take them anyway. Doesn’t hurt to have some, right?” Cue the forced bashful laughter.
  • It’s clear to everyone within a 5 mile radius that Suga is playing this up too much. Like it’s painful to watch.
  • Once out of the shop, Suga will show no mercy and pelt either the first person who laughs or the person who suggested the bet in the first place with the box.

Asahi

  • He has to buy at least four or five other things along with them in hopes that Ukai doesn’t give the condoms a second thought.
  • Except he kind of just grabs whatever is within arm’s reach in a tizzy without paying attention, so it’s an interesting mix of things.
  • He forgets how to breathe when Ukai rings his things up. You’d think that having his coach be unfazed by all of this would make it less embarrassing, but the contrast in their demeanors makes it worse. 
    • You can bet his s/o will be the one to buy them from now on because he’s scarred for life.

Nishinoya

  • Slams the box down on the counter and looks Ukai straight in the eyes. It’s the only thing he’s buying.
  • Noya’s got a dead serious look on his face the whole time. Coupled with the fact that he’s standing in a power pose, it makes the transaction feel more like a battle of wills than a simple interaction between a shopkeeper/coach and his customer/pupil.
  • Seriously, Ukai is unnerved by this until Noya shouts out a thanks and bows deeply before leaving the shop, and hearing Tanaka’s cry of “Noya-san is so cool!!!” from outside.

Tanaka

  • Tries the nonchalant whistling thing, which makes the whole process more suspect and embarrassing.
  • “They’re for my sister’s…. boyfriend…”
    • He doesn’t know why he went with that excuse. Even if Saeko had a boyfriend, neither of them would bother having Tanaka buy a box for them.
  • Ukai’s, “Good for them, I guess?” does nothing to alleviate any of Tanaka’s embarrassment.

Ennoshita

  • If it’s questioned, he has his excuse of “A prop for the new movie” all ready to go. Although, he’s also worried that unless he can make up a plot for this movie that doesn’t exist (yet), it might be considered a cause for concern that his movies are getting too adult for high school students to be in charge of.
  • Takes five minutes to come up with an elevator pitch just in case before he has to go in.
  • Ukai doesn’t even ask or indicate that he’s buying condoms and Ennoshita–red-faced and stuttering–goes on about some Seth Rogen-esque stoner comedy that he’s working on.
    • “Well, just don’t get in trouble filming something like that. You’re still a kid, after all.”

Narita

  • Can’t stop dropping his change, which is the perfect excuse to physically hide how ridiculous he feels.
  • The transaction from then on can be described as swift, as in the second Ukai hands him the bag Narita takes it and heads for the door with a, “Hm thanks coach see you tomorrow bye!” It’s all in one fluid motion and yes, that goodbye is punctuation-less .
  • Just…never bring this up again. He’d rather forget the whole thing.

Kinoshita

  • He can’t go in alone. He has to do this with at least one other person going into the shop with him, and Noya is the only one who also isn’t embarrassed by this in any way. The other second-years are embarrassed by proximity, so-to-speak.
    • Except Noya gets distracted trying to find his usual ice cream flavor, so Kinoshita has to ride solo at the counter.
  • It’s clear he’s nervous about the whole thing; his whole body is stiff and he reacts to anything Ukai says as if the man is correcting his technique during practice.
  • He does have to keep his eyes on his wallet and money most of the transaction because there’s no one he can look his coach in the eye while buying them.

Kageyama

  • He knows he’s not smart and that everyone knows this as well, so he decides to tackle this issue by using this to advantage.
  • Except he anticipates Ukai will say anything in the first place, and blurts something out totally unprompted..
    • Ukai: “That’ll be–”
    • Kageyama: What do you mean those aren’t water balloons?
  • The following is the most tense five seconds of silence you’ll ever see between these two.
  • He’s so red that Ukai is worried that Kageyama’s head might explode. Or he passes out on the spot, especially because he stops breathing.

Hinata

  • He thinks he can play it cool, but it’s like watching a trainwreck.
  • He suddenly can’t hear anything. There’s so much blood rushing to his head that he can only hear that in his ears. Ukai tells him how much he owes and Hinata keeps repeating, “What?” each time it happens.
    • “Just… take them, alright, Hinata?”
  • Once he leaves the store, his face seems to be stuck in a smile and he doesn’t react to anything anyone says or does to him. His soul has left his body. He’s straight-up astral projecting in front of the vending machines outside the shop. Never make him do that again.

Tsukishima

  • Like Daichi, he also is does not make it weird. The glare from his glasses absolutely helps to hide anything his eyes might give away about feeling like an idiot the whole time.
  • But you could replace the condoms with any other item in the store and everything would be exactly the same about this interaction.
  • The rest of the team is mad because there was no point of having the loser of their bet do that if the loser wasn’t affected by it.
    • But this eventually backfires on Tsukki because guess who Noya and Tanaka have now playfully dubbed, “The Condom King.” He hates it.

Yamaguchi

  • He’s a blend of Suga and Kageyama in this situation: “I thought they were rubber gloves! What? T-those aren’t mine!” (Which one is it, Yams?)
  • Things get worse because the barcode scanner just won’t scan this box and every second feels ten times longer than it actually is during this.
  • At this point he’s just praying that no one else–sans the rest of the boys–has to bear witness to this. If Yachi walked in and saw, he’d probably die.
The Incredibly Moronic Prat Who Lived

Harry frowned when he looked down at the counter and was faced with his own biography, Harry Potter, The Incredibly Heroic Boy Who Lived (Twice!). When he accepted the job at Flourish and Blotts he never considered that he might have to sell books that were written about himself. Harry’s frown turned into a grimace when he realized that the customer buying this book would probably be starstruck when they realized that the one and only Harry Potter was standing on the other side of the counter.

But when Harry looked up to see the customer, he was the one who was starstruck. Because standing in front of him was Draco Malfoy. Unbearably attractive, adorably flustered Draco Malfoy.

“Potter,” Draco said, shocked.

Harry was too busy staring at the blond, memorizing every perfect detail of his face, to respond. He hadn’t seen Draco since his trial two years ago, and the last he heard Draco was in France studying to be a Healer. France has been good for Draco, Harry thought as he admired Draco’s no longer skinny, but fit body. Draco was also silently appreciating Harry’s appearance, but the blond had been taught that it was impolite to stare, so he broke the silence by clearing his throat. Harry’s eyes immediately flew to Draco’s face.

“Malfoy,” Harry said, his voice hoarse. “How have you been?”

“Spectacular as always,” Draco answered dryly. “And you?”

“I’ve been…” Harry searched for a casual way to say completely lost. “Fine.”

Draco nodded. Both boys seemed at a loss for words and Harry looked back down at the book on the counter. The book about him. That Draco was buying, for some reason.

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The Stag and The Bastard

IMAGINE: Being the younger sister of Robert, Stannis and Renly and meeting Jon Snow in the kitchens during the feast. 

[gif is not mine. creds to the owner. part of the poetry series, this time it’s based off lang leav’s ‘someone like you’.] 

warnings: none

words: 2.0k +


‘Do you think there is the possibility of you and I? In this lifetime, is that too much to hope for?…’

She could feel the stares of the people as she walked into the hall, nevertheless she kept walking her chin held up high. (Y/N) knew why they were staring. Of course it was very uncommon for such a highborn lady to not wear dresses, but it was so trivial. She could hear Robert’s voice from the end of the hall, she could practically see Cersei rolling her eyes at her husband’s behaviour.  

“Sister!” She looked at her brother at the centre of the table, gesturing for her to hurry along and break her fast with them.

“Brother,” she greeted him when she was close enough. She walked past the Stark and the Baratheon children. She wasn’t older than them by any means, basically the same age as Robb but nonetheless she was royalty.

“Why are you dressed like a man?” Renly spoke, smirking when he saw his sister’s reaction.

“I’m going around Winterfell today to see what there is,” she looked around at the faces. Robert looked on with interest as well as Cersei, Stannis looked indifferent and Renly just looked amused. “As well as around the North.”

“Do you have an escort my lady?” Catelyn spoke from her far left. “We have plenty of escorts to show you around.”

(Y/N)’s gaze turned to Cat, she smiled softly and shook her head. “Thank you, but I already have an escort. A suitable one, one that I chose myself.”

“Who is it?”

“Jon Snow,” she could practically feel the anger radiate from Cat as soon as she said that name. (Y/N) smiled at her, this time with an all knowing smile, without another word she took her seat and sat beside Renly.


“You’re stirring things up sister,” Renly whispered softly.

“I’m not,” she responded. Renly gave her a knowing look. “Okay, maybe I am but I’m not intentionally doing it.”

“How did you even get to meet Jon Snow? How did you get him as the escort?”

“So many questions brother,” (Y/N) twirled her fork and looked at the table below them. She looked for the familiar black hair but knowing better. Of course he wasn’t at the table with them. He was probably alone outside, or maybe he was inside a barn? Or in the kitchens, much like he was last night.


The clanging sounds of pots and pans echoed across the narrow hall where (Y/N) walked, she could see the faint light of the kitchens. A booming laugh echoed across the hall, knowing that it came from her over joyous brother from the feast behind her.

“Your Highness?” A servant stood before, curtsying. “Is something the matter?”

(Y/N) softly smiled, “No.” She pointed to the room where the light was coming from, “Is this the kitchens?”

“Yes my lady,” (Y/N) nodded ending the conversation. The servant curtsied again and hurried off.

(Y/N) walked towards the kitchen, she could hear the conversations that were being held. She heard her name being mentioned, with quiet movements she moved to the alcove just before it.

“I’m telling you Myl, that girl is no Highborn woman, nor a Princess,” a woman with a gruff voice sounded. “The way that she holds herself, she’s more interested in cajoling with the men and knights than being properly trained as a royal. I hear that she’s the black sheep in that family.” (Y/N) could imagine the tittering imbeciles edging in closer trying to catch up on the latest gossip while they make the food. 

(Y/N) clenched her fist together, she’s heard this over the years of course. She preferred to be in the company of men as she wanted to fight, not what everyone else seem to think so. She’s heard the whispers, the rumours from servants to noble people alike. But she was never the black sheep of the family. When she said that she would rather fight and train with the soldiers, her brothers had reservations it wasn’t until Jaime Lannister came to her aid and supported her. From then on she’s become one of the fiercest and merciless fighters of Westeros.

“That’s why she’s called the Iron Princess,” another voice joined in. “She has no mercy. No sympathy, she’s more like a Lannister than a Baratheon. She’s a whore too I hear.” There was more that the woman was going to say but she was interrupted when a voice yelled out ‘enough’.

“You mustn’t say things like that,” she’s heard that voice before. Earlier in the day. “She’s different aye, but that does not matter. If she hears you saying things like this then we’ll see if she has mercy or not.” She could hear the sounds of his shoes as he walked around the room. “Even then if rumours are circulated around it won’t be just her who would be spiteful, it will be her brothers and the Lannisters, even my father.”

It was true of course, what he just said. She was loved by her brothers, and she was loved by the Lannisters. Tywin practically raised her when her father died.

“Be careful what you say around here. Now go on, I think it’s the next course you wouldn’t want them to be waiting now do you?” She could hear all of their feet move across the floor, she burrowed herself to the wall when they passed, strangely enough they were all quiet.


“Thank you for that,” (Y/N) said softly as she walked into the kitchens. She saw Jon jump a little bit and held in her laugh. She watched as he turned around almost tripping over his own feet.

“Your Highness,” he bowed.

“(Y/N).”

“I beg your pardon?”

She walked towards him, “I don’t like titles. We’re all the same when we’re buried in the ground,” she shrugged. “Although dead kings garner more respect and admiration than actual living people.”

“I’m sorry for what they said. They hear rumours and they speculate.”

She shrugged, “I’ve heard far worse from far worse people Jon Snow, no worries.” (Y/N) walked along the bench, scrunching her nose up at the various smells and dirtiness of the kitchen. “Some rumours do tend to stem from the truth,” he looked at her, his dark eyes following her every move. She looked at him and smirked, “Some rumours. Not all though.”

Jon cleared his throat, not believing that (Y/N) Baratheon the most sought out person in all of the Seven Kingdoms was here with him, the bastard of Winterfell. “How does one weave out the lies and find the truth?”

She tapped her lip with her finger and thought for a moment. “If they know you well enough, love you or care for you, they know.”

“If you don’t mind me asking, why are you here with me?”

(Y/N) stared at him, “I didn’t want to be here with you.”

Jon looked down, she sighed, “I meant that I come to the kitchens sometimes so I can be alone and eat,” she grinned at him. “The company that I have right now is an added bonus. The good kind.”

“But I’m a bastard, the bastard,” Jon emphasized. He knew that he was treated far worse than the usual bastards because he was Ned Stark’s.

“And?” She sat down at one of the stools and gestured for him to do the same. “I don’t care if you’re a bastard, Ned Stark’s or not. I told you, I hate figurative titles.” (Y/N) looked at the plate of pies, took it and passed one to Jon. “Now to lighter topics, what is there to see about the dreary and grey North?”

“I could show you tomorrow, if you’d like.” Jon offered as gratefully took the pie from her.

(Y/N) chewed her pie slowly and stared at Jon, enjoying making him squirm as he waits for her answer. Finally she swallowed the piece and poured herself some wine. “I think I’ll take you up on that offer Jon Snow,” she said before she sipped the wine.


There is something so delicate about this time, so fragile. And if nothing ever comes of it, at least I have known this feeling, this wonderful sense of optimism…’ 

“Sister?” Renly gently nudged her with his elbow. She shook herself out of her thoughts and looked at her brother. “You were far away all of a sudden.”

She smiled cordially at him, “Just remembering dear brother, no need to worry.”

Renly huffed, “I wasn’t worried. I just thought you were going insane.”

(Y/N) took another forkful of sausage in her mouth, took her napkin and gently dabbed away the grease. She looked towards the entrance of the hall and saw that Jon appeared. He seemed hesitant to walk towards her but she nodded at him and started walking. (Y/N) stood up, her chair scraping across the floors as she walked down the steps to greet Jon.

“What are you doing here?” Cat looked at Jon, disdain still in her eyes and her voice.

Jon looked at (Y/N) then at Cately, then at the rest of the table. Each pair of eyes now directed at him. “I invited him.” He heard (Y/N)’s voice coming from his right and he smiled at her. “He’s my guest.”

(Y/N) stood next to Jon, linking her arms with him. She looked at his face and smiled, then turned to the table and arched a brow, silently asking if they had any objections.

“A bastar-,” Cately’s words were taken from her mouth as Robert laughed.

“The more the merrier!” He knew that if Catelyn finished her words, his sister’s temper would flare up and as amusing it would be he still liked Catelyn, and it would cause some tension if his sister accidentally hurt her.

“Come Jon,” she led him to sit next to her. “Break your fast then you show me what the North has to offer.” Jon could feel the stares of everyone as he sat down. He smiled meekly at Robb and Arya who were staring at him unflinchingly.


…It is something I can always keep close to me -to draw from in my darkest hour like a ray of unspent sunshine…’ 

As he prepared the saddles for the horses, Jon felt a presence behind him, he turned around and saw that it was Jaime Lannister, in his golden glory. “I don’t know what you’re doing with (Y/N), but if you harm her in anyway I’ll be forced to kill you in her honour.” Jaime passed the bag that Jon needed. “And it won’t just be my wrath that you have to watch out for.” He nodded towards Tywin who was conversing with Littlefinger and Ned on the other side of the courtyard.

Jon nodded and swallowed the nervousness that he was feeling. He knew that (Y/N) was one of the most beloved people in Westeros and if he certainly did hurt her then nothing could ever save him, not even all of the Gods.

He watched as (Y/N) came out of the castle, still in her outfit from the morning, her dark hair flowing behind her. He spotted the Queen walking beside her and watched as they conversed quietly. 


“Be careful (Y/N), the North is harsh and unforgiving.”

“Much like the Lannisters, Cersei, I will be fine.” She hugged her goodsister and bid her farewell. (Y/N) walked towards Jon as he held the two reins, passing one to her. “Are you ready Jon?”

He nodded and waited for her to saddle up, then joined her. Jon looked back at the courtyard, he could feel their stares, waiting for him to mess up but alas he did not. He looked at Cersei, her eyes never leaving his, he nodded at her hoping that he received the message that he will not hurt her and no harm will come to her. She nodded and walked towards her father.

Jon looked at (Y/N) who was now staring at him with curious eyes, “Don’t worry Jon, I’ll make sure I won’t fall off my horse so they won’t kill you.” She gave a hearty laugh one that usually comes from Robert. He gave her a small smile. Sensing the hesitancy and nervousness, she trotted her horse towards him. “I’m too interested in you Jon Snow, to ever let any harm come to you.”

This time he smiled at her genuinely. “Now let’s go, I can’t wait to see the different shades of grey I can find in the North!” He watched as she trotted her horse to the gates. Jon looked back at everyone, this time their stares more warm than before but still cautious.

 As he rode alongside (Y/N), her words filling the cold air, he couldn’t help but feel right and complete. Even if he was a bastard, he can damn well show her how much of a man he could be. 

‘…No matter what happens next, I will always be glad to know there is someone like you in the world.’ 

anonymous asked:

andreil in a hospital?

One of the things Andrew has recently grown more comfortable with is touch. He still doesn’t love it, won’t accept it from most people, but thanks to the cats he’s less likely to jump or default to his knives if something brushes against his legs.

Which is good, because even though the apartment is empty other than them and King definitely prefers Neil, she’s snaking between Andrew’s legs anyway. He stoops slightly to brush her back with one hand—he doesn’t indulge them the way Neil does, but Neil isn’t here to see it, and the cats can’t talk, so ultimately, no harm done.

He needs to stop thinking about Neil so much when Neil isn’t here. It’s a normal occurrence—they both live in Chicago, but they play for rival teams, so their schedules aren’t perfectly lined up. Neil is in Washington this weekend for a game, and Andrew has a home game against Kansas City.

Andrew’s phone vibrates—undoubtedly a text from Neil. He opens it immediately and thinks about how unlikely he is to ever admit to anyone how much he misses Neil. Except for maybe Neil himself, and only if he was on his deathbed or something.

Neil’s text reads, good luck tonight! and is accompanied by a selfie of him and Dan. Cute.

*

The game is a brutal one, even from between the goalposts. Andrew takes a nasty hit during a brawl early on but doesn’t get benched until the second half, when a fourth ball clatters hard enough against his helmet to leave his vision swimming.

He resolutely does not check the score for Neil’s game—he’ll find out via phone call as soon as it ends anyway, or else a reporter will ask him about it as they leave or someone will announce it to the entire court (crosstown rivals and all that)—and so it’s not until his phone suddenly explodes with messages and tweets that he knows something has happened.

A call breaks through it—from one Dan Wilds, who is currently with Neil, which must have something to do with his phone being swamped with notifications—and he manages to answer it before it, too, disappears into the mess.

“What is it?” he says.

“Andrew? You good?”

He hates niceties and small talk, especially when they get in the way of his finding out necessary information. “Where is Neil?”

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Imagine getting a role in a movie with your ex Tom and Jensen, your current boyfriend, getting jealous and worried.

Originally posted by whoeveryoulovethemost

Originally posted by maryxglz

Connected to this!

You stared at the text message in your phone for what seemed like an eternity. When you had accepted the role you never thought there would come this moment that you’d actually think you’d want to take your answer back. You always had loved acting, a little more than singing, so whenever a movie came up that you liked the script – which you really did now – and you could work in without having to leave Supernatural, you immediately accepted. Now, however you’d started having serious doubts about your decision.

Your manager had told you you were supposed to meet your costar tomorrow morning for a coffee and the two of you to talk about some scenes. He’d sent you the address today but once you spotted the name you had not been able to reply to him. You were frozen in your place.

“Baby?” you heard a voice behind you but every muscle in your body refused to move.

“Baby? (Y/n) are you alright?” the voice got closer and when you felt a hand on your shuoulder you jumped, your phone falling from your hands.

“Wh-what?” you blinked, looking up to meet your boyfriend’s worried eyes.

“I asked you if you are alright, but it’s obvious you’re not.” he said with a gentle smile, bending to pick your phone but not looking at it out of respect.

“What’s wrong sweetheart?” he cupped your face as he sat in front of you on the bed.

“It’s- nothing’s wrong, you don’t have to worry.” you mumbled, avoiding to look him in the eyes.

“Princess-” he chuckled, kissing the top of your head “You’re a terrible liar, do you know that?”

“And a terrible actor?” you asked with a half smile, trying to change the subject as smoothly as you could.

“Absolutely not! Besides, I am your number one fan and you know so I guess my opinion wouldn’t matter much anyway. But-” he grinned “You’ve got two oscars and a golden globe amongst many other awards, I think that might mean you are a good actress.” he winked and you chuckled, your eyes casting down.

“I guess.” you fidgeted with yours fingers but cursed at yourself in your mind for how you were unable to come up with something else to say, since you knew Jensen would bring back the topic.

“Now-” here we go “-Are you going to tell me about it, or not? I am not pressuring you, sweetheart, but I just need to know what’s bothering you in case I can help.”

“I want to tell you Jens, but this- I don’t know how well you’d really take to it. I don’t know if you’d be able to help me to be honest… you might be too angry to.” you played with the ring in your finger.

He took hold of your hands and brought them up to kiss them, along with engagement ring “I promise, no matter what it is I am going to try my best not to get angry.” he squeezed your hands and let out a shaky breath.

“I know you won’t, Jens. I know that you’ll try your best but sometimes it’s just- things are too hard to handle and-”

“(Y/n), what’s going on? You’re starting to worry me here. Did something happen to anyone?” he frowned but you shook your head.

“No, no I swear. Don’t worry, it’s just-” you sighed, willing yourself to look him in the eyes “Remember that movie I got a part in the previous week?”

“Yeah I- I think.” he nodded his head, his green eyes baring into yours as if he was trying to study you.

“Well, my manager told me I was supposed to meet my costar tomorrow. You know the one I will be having all those not-so-appropriate scenes with?” you asked and you saw him clench his jaw and look for a minute away.

“Yeah?” his voice was more rough and you felt him squeeze your hands without realizing it. He was already mad about it, well jealous mostly but he had agreed to respect it and you because: 1) he loved you and trusted you and 2) that was your job as well as his and if you could handle seeing him with all those women Dean had then so should he.

“Well, he told me his name today. Through texts.” you let out a shaky breath.

“And?” he looked at you with a deep frown it almost reminded you of Dean for a moment.

“It’s Tom.” you breathed out as fast as you could, and for a moment he obviously didn’t get it “It’s my ex Tom.” you corrected “Tom Hiddleston.”

The moment the words left your lips you saw his back straightened and his eyebrow shot up. His lips moved just slightly but he still kept his jaw clenched. His eyes hardened and you could see that he tried to control himself just because of his promise to you, but you could also understand how hard it was for him. Other than Jensen, Tom was the other most serious relationship you’d ever had. And by that you meant engagement serious. You weren’t one to play with those things, all of your relationships had actually been serious, but when you were with Tom you actually thought he’d be the one. You still didn’t understand fully well why you actually broke up.

You were happy together, as happy as you could get at the time, and you both thought that that was going to be forever. You really thought you would never fall harder for someone else so that made getting over him even harder but when you met Jensen you really understood what love could be. Of course you never forgot about Tom, he was and would always be important to you and sometimes you wished you could still be friends. But it was nearly impossible considering the situation.

“Jens?” you whispered, tilting your head “Jens? Jensen please say something.” you gave his hand a squeeze as his hard look didn’t flatter.

“Your ex Tom?” he asked in a low, dangerously low, and rough voice.

Jensen was not one to get jealous easily, of course when he did it the cutest sight for you but when it came to Tom it all took a turn for the worse. He was jealous but no the funny or sweet and grumpy kind. It was the seriously jealous and worried kind.

“Ye-yes my ex, Tom.” you looked down with a sigh “J, I swear I had no idea it would be him. If- if I knew I- I would have probably not said yes to the movie.”

“Probably?” he frowned at you and you blinked.

“I- I mean-” you cleared your throat “Yes, Jensen probably. Just- just because of what happened between me and Tom doesn’t mean I- I will turn down a great chance in a movie.”

“(Y/n).” he pursed his lips, letting go of your hand and you let them fall on your lap.

“What Jensen?”

“He’s your ex! Your ex Tom, do you remember what happened last time you met him?”

“If you’re talking about the Con, he wasn’t flirting with me.” you rolled your eyes “I told you, that’s how he always was with me. We’ve been close even before we got together, what’s wrong with that?”

“There’s nothing wrong with that, but he’s your ex (Y/n)! You- you can’t just go hav a scene with him like- like that and expect me to-”

“What? Accept it? Yeah Jensen I actually am. Look I am the one having doubts in the first place too but I can’t really believe you’re still angry about this because, and you said it, he’s my ex! I am no longer with him, I am with you and this-” you showed him the ring “Means that want to be with you forever! You are the one I chose to spend my life with, after I was with Tom, can’t you just- just try to understand that?”

“Yeah, but you had decided to spend your life with Tom once too, didn’t you?” he mumbled, crossing his arms over his chest like a sad stubborn little child.

“And it didn’t work out, but this is working out Jens! It is because I actually know it is what I want to!” you got up, getting closer to him “Jensen, baby please- I- I am having a hard time myself and despite how jealous I knew you’d be I thought that- that you’d understand me.”

“I’m- I’m sorry sweetheart, damn it I really am.” he cleared his throat, running a hand down his face “I’m just- It’s so fucking hard to when I know how much he- he actually meant to you.”he confessed, his head bowing down as he ran a hand through his hair.

“J” you whispered, taking hold of his hands and he looked at you “I know that Tom and I were- what he and I had wasdeep and it was true and important and strong and everything.” you cleared your throat when you his shoulders fall and the look on his face match that of a kicked puppy’s “But it’s over, J. It’s over, it ended because it actually wasn’t as… true as I thought, and not as strong or as important. Not as this is.” you locked fingers with his.

“Not as real as we are. Jensen, when Tom and I ended I thought I would never get over him because I really thought he was the one for me, the only one for me. But then I met you and- and I realized what love really meant. Don’t get me wrong, I- I did love, Tom. I can’t lie to you about that, and maybe I still do.” you heard him take a sharp breath and you almost felt bad “But I’m not in love with him!” yo quickly added, not over yet “I’m not in love with him because I’m in love with you. And nothing can ever change this now.”

“Not even him?” he whispered and you raised an eyebrow.

“What? Why do you think he would ever want to change this? Tom and I- it was a mutual decision to end this, he wanted it to. Why would he now-”

“(Y/n)” he cut you off gently, but his voice still was laced with pain “Have you seen the way he looks at you?” he asked, remembering the time you met at Con.

“What about the way he looks at me?” you whispered with a frown.

“It’s the exact same way I look at you. Madly in love.”

bitty dates anonther falconer au
  • so the graduation kiss doesn’t happen
  • and bitty tries to move on and jack goes onto join the falconers
  • and there’s some falcs family get-together early on in the pre-season and bob and alicia can’t make it for Reasons
  • so jack invites his other family
  • which – is sort of a terrible idea bc Tater’s flying solo so he adopts Ransom and Holster and shenanigans happen immediately
  • (think Tater and Bitty doing lifts on the ice but with ransom and holster and alcohol)
  • and shitty’s hanging all over jack because they haven’t seen each other in weeks and he introduces himself to everyone as jack’s brother – “but not like a lame- ass biological brother, a brother of the heart” – and lardo’s somehow got all these falcs rookies following her around like little ducklings
  • so bits is kind of off by himself, hovering near the refreshments to monitor which pies are most popular
  • (he might be distancing himself from jack on purpose. he might be trying to move on. it might be really hard.)

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Period Pains

Peter Parker x Reader

Summary: Reader gets a visit from mother nature and Peter is there to save the day. 

Word Count: 1,251

Warnings: Language (as always), period pain (?).

A/N: I apologize for my lack of posts. School has been weighing me down for the past few weeks. I’ll try and upload something new this week if I have time. Please let me know what you guys think! I decided to try someone other than Bucky, lol. Feedback really helps me understand what you guys like. 


You know the day right before you get your period or a few days before and you totally veg out with unnecessary junk? That’s what you were currently doing. Sitting on the couch with a mini Ben and Jerry’s ice cream, oreo’s, candy, you name it. You tried working on some school work that was supposed to be due tomorrow, but for the life of you, you couldn’t keep a damn focus on anything. 

Plopping down in your bed full of fluffy, warm blankets, you doze off into a food coma. However, the next morning, you would regret it all.

Why?

Your period. 

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Vague Reckoning

Pairing: Bucky X Reader

Words: 3467

Warnings: Angst to Fluff to Smut. NSFW gifs.

@kazekagegirl​ asked “Could you do a Bucky x reader where the reader is hard on herself every time she’s messes up or does something the wrong way, she thinks she has to perfect, she thinks she screws up a lot when in actuality she don’t. Well one day her and Bucky get into it and she becomes emotional and he tells her she is not a screw up, she more than what she gives herself credit for, they argue and he storms off they make up and possibly smut. It’s different but if you can please and thank you.”

A/N: So I finally have time for all the requests! Request away people :) I changed the request a tinsy bit. Hope you don’t mind. Let me know if you want to be tagged.

Permanent Tag List: @meganlane84 @mizzzpink @bringmetheemobands @kimistry27 @fireandicewillsuffice @vacam79 @amrita31199 @badassbaker @feelmyroarrrr @aekr @sexy-sea-basss @isaxhorror @actual-bucky-barnes-trash @cassandras-musings @kimistry27 @mo320

Originally posted by nerdyfandomimagines

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— aquiver | 05 (m)

aquiver (adj.) [uh-kwiv-er] in a state of trepidation or vibrant agitation; trembling; quivering

pairing min yoongi x reader
genre/warnings—  smut (!!!), romance, fluff???, the beginnings of angst, the foreshadowing is real…(sorry!)
words9,402

:: summary Yoongi can’t remember the last time he was able to successfully bring himself to the point of orgasm, then Namjoon gives him a business card advertising ‘Healing Hands’, and that’s where he meets you; pretty and innocent looking, who gets paid to provide hand jobs for a living…

note inspired by the novella ‘The Grownup’ by Gillian Flynn, literally just the main character’s past occupation haha

  » 01 :: 02 :: 03 :: 04 :: 05 :: 06 ::

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HiddleHamlet: A firsthand account (part I)

Okay guys. Here goes. I’m going to try to remember and describe as much of the experience as possible, so you can all feel a little piece of it too. This is your warning… this is going to be a long post.

Disclaimer: this review is going to be very little about the play, and very lots about how mindblowingly gorgeous and excellent Tom was in the play. If you’re not in this to hear a dissertation on that man’s thighs in his tight-ass jeans, don’t read further. I love and deeply appreciate theatre (this is the 14th play I’ve seen since moving to London 10 months ago), but this is tumblr and I’m not really here to be a theatre critic or to dissect various interpretations of Shakespeare. I’m here to drool over sexy men. It’s right there in the title.

So, to get that boring, non-thigh-centred discussion out of the way first - the play was seriously great. I enjoyed it hugely, even apart from the magic of Tom’s Hamlet (and somehow in spite of the distraction that was my brain screaming “HE’S RIGHT THERE!!!” for 3 hours straight). I saw a similarly intimate staging of Hamlet back in January, which I found… overly intense. This one was much better. I especially liked the touches of humour throughout, which helped to break up the heavier moments and moved the story along in a nice rhythm, and brought out the humanity and likability of the characters. The cast were all fantastic, and the sparseness of the stage worked well - the focus was fully on the actors and the words they were saying. 

We were sat in the front row, far stage left…which was basically on the stage. The theatre is teeny, with no raised stage, which meant the actors were walking by us close enough to touch. Being that close to Tom for an extended period of time was full-on exhilarating. When he’d run by us, we’d get a waft of air and could actually smell him. I didn’t get to last time, so I breathed in deep this time…and it was absolutely delicious. I’m sure we were visibly swooning after each inhale.

(I’m really sad that only a limited number of people will get to see this, and I know there’s been much discussion over the supposed “exclusivity” of this show, but I must say, in being one of the lucky ones who got to be there, that it was magical how intimate this was. It was immersive - a unique and beautiful theatre experience. I feel incredibly grateful.) 

Important things must be addressed, so: couch humping. Was SO FUNNY. It wasn’t a full-on dry humping (oh god…I just had to take several minutes to think about what that would be like. I’m back now) but rather a couple of energetic thrusts. Which was enough. This was met with laughter and tons of quietly imploding vaginas, I assume.

In this same scene (a great scene), Hamlet sits on the recently-violated couch with Polonius and laughs loudly with him. It’s rather forced (he’s putting on a show here), but also - seriously adorable. Because Tom. It gifted us with a huge Hiddles grin, which is so damn infectious (as you well know). In the third bout of this laughter, Hamlet dissolves into tears. One of the best things about Tom’s Hamlet was how perfectly and naturally he navigated the quick shifts in his mood - swinging wildly between grief, rage, lunacy, amusement, earnestness - and it all felt incredibly deft and real. Also, that man is gifted when it comes to crying. I think there were real tears in his eyes for about 75% of the performance. At one point, you could see the tears falling, illuminated by the stage lights. It was beautiful. I managed to stay seated and not run to throw myself on him and cover him in kisses, which was obviously what first instinct was telling me to do.

Okay…let us talk about how good he looked. IT IS GROSS, AND MAKES NO SENSE. My brain can’t compute this level of attractiveness, and I have no appropriate words to convey it. It’s even worse in real life. And truly, this is Peak Tom, look-wise. I missed probably large sections of dialogue due to thinking about his hair (I wish this was a joke). I could not stop staring at it. The curls are entrancing. It is perfection. I will cry when he gets a haircut. THIS IS THE HAIR HE WAS BORN TO HAVE. Also, THE JEANS. Holy fucking hell. I could write a Hamlet-length soliloquy about those jeans. Maybe it was because I was on the side, so I spent a good amount of time looking at the back of him, but…I have never appreciated a view more. Those jeans were, um, very tight, and I have zero complaints. I think I could actually see his thigh muscles flexing through them. I was equally entranced by his legs and thighs throughout the whole thing. My stream of consciousness went something like this: hair-legs-thighs-jaw-eyes-voice-words-legs-ass-kill-me-now…!

Yeah… his ass in those jeans. Specifically when he was moving or jumping around a lot. I leave it to your imagination.

Overall, there is truly just something about him. We have not been imagining that. His physical presence is undeniably, overwhelmingly attractive. He’s all legs and cheekbones and curls, and the way he moves is impossible to look away from. He’s so damn FIT. His body, his face, his every movement…it’s all just sex incarnate. I can’t be eloquent about it. What the fuck do you say about this. Just. Ugh. Fuck me up.

Originally posted by thehumming6ird

Will you look at this? GOD.

Wardrobe stuff: I love his new peacoat. It’s really nice and looks so soft, so he looks super huggable in it. I will continue to swoon over the upturned collar look on him - it works so well with his long neck and impeccable jawline. I also like how well he rocks the hoodie-and-peacoat combo. Really, is there anything that doesn’t look good on him?! Oh, and…there was no appearance, sadly, of the beloved grey boots (those boots are like a secondary celeb spotting for us by now). He was wearing dark brown boots through the whole thing. But they looked really good too no duh, so, no big loss.

Uh-oh… this post is already very long, and I have at least 26 more things to say about all of this. I’m think I’m gonna stop here for tonight and write a part two tomorrow. Coming up: tummy peeks, dancing, leather gloves and the opinions of the lady sitting next to me on Tom’s ass in those jeans (you didn’t think I was done talking about that yet, did you?)

Originally posted by fromhiddleswithlove

The New Romantics

This is going to have some sort of plot, but for now, yeah. Klance smut, as promised, more to come. Laughing at the discourse over which should top but no worries I got this. Also, click the OP if the read more link doesn’t show. 


It was normal to be cranky after an especially exhausting battle. It was normal to want to be alone. But Lance was one of the few among them whose spirits remained up and playful, a comforting routine after the adrenaline and sorrows of a battle, no matter how often the others swore to dislike it. Though this time, Lance didn’t say anything as they got back to the castle. He simply went to his room and shut himself in.

“Is he okay?” Pidge asked.

“Probably tired from the fight,” Shiro said. “It was exhausting. For all of us.”

“Well, I’m starving,” Hunk said. “So you’ll know where to find me.”

Allura looked at them, the beauty in her face that was there when they first found her weathered down by battles and near-death experiences. She had tired lines along her chocolate skin and her shoulders slumped whenever she wasn’t in battle or in front of other races. “We should all rest. We don’t know what tomorrow will bring. Good work, Paladins. You’ve come a long way.” She gave them a hard, look, her eyes bright with tired pride, a thin smile on her lips. She left and Shiro turned to Keith.

“She’s right. We need to rest.” Keith nodded, not really answering. “I’m serious, Keith. Don’t go tire yourself out. If we fight again tomorrow, you need to be at your best.”

“Alright, alright,” he mumbled. “Goodnight.” Shiro kept his eyes on him until he left. Keith obeyed, despite every bone in his body telling him to go and train, to go and fight until he was swifter, stronger, better.

Instead, he went into his room and forced himself to sleep.

The next morning, with the others at breakfast, he realized something was wrong. It was Lance. He wasn’t yapping like he normally did. He wasn’t joking, talking through space goo, being obnoxious. He was just sitting there, stuffing his face angrily, his hand fisted on the table like he was aggravated.

Keith glanced at Shiro who was sharing a concerned look with Allura. Coran and Hunk spoke, but not enough to fill the void of Lance’s voice.

Later, as they were training, Lance was sloppy and kept getting knocked down, even by Pidge who was half his height.

“Dude, what’s your deal?” Keith snapped when he watched him go down again.

“Stay out of it,” he bit back. Keith blinked in surprise, and walked over to him. “Get out of my face.”

“You don’t tell me what to do!” he shouted. “Look, if you don’t focus, we can’t form Voltron. And if we can’t form Voltron, we can’t fight. Which means we’re dead. I am not dying because you can’t keep your head clear enough to take this seriously.”

“Don’t you go blaming me,” he snapped. “Everyone knows your impulsive temper is what screws us up most when we fight.” Keith shoved him back and Lance lunged forward. Keith easily sidestepped him. “You wanna go, Mullet Head?” he hissed.

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