today was awful and i have no friends to talk to about it

We talk a lot about Yuuri having to reconcile his idea of Viktor with the real Viktor–that is, Yuuri has this flawless, wonderful ideal of Viktor in his head which has to sort of be cut down to fit the person that Viktor really is. Which is a healthy part of their relationship, and which I completely agree is something Yuuri has to face at some point during that first summer.

But I think there’s also something to be said about Yuuri realizing that some of the horrible things he’s heard about Viktor through the skating community grapevine are not so true.

Yuuri, despite what he says, is much closer to is idol than most people ever get. If Viktor is a movie star, Yuuri is the secondary character–he’s there, and a lot of people definitely know he’s there, and he knows enough people who also know Viktor for the gossip mill to really get churnin sometimes.

I also think that at the back of every person who has ever had a celebrity crush’s mind is a little voice saying, “Never meet your heroes,” and Yuuri Katsuki is terrified of that little voice, and it contributes to the distance he keeps from Viktor–because at some point, that much distance from someone you’re facing off against in international competitions has got to be just a little bit purposeful.

So cue Viktor coming into his life all of a sudden one day, and all Yuuri can think about are the terrible awful no good very bad things people have told him about Viktor and the kind of person Viktor is.

“Fuck Viktor Nikiforov,” an older skater had told him after Skate America, six glasses into a box of wine and bitter as hell about missing the podium. “No, really, fuck him. The Russians are paying off the ISU to keep him at the top. He isn’t even that talented. I hear–I hear he doesn’t even train. I hear he just shows up and fucking does whatever and they give him gold because he’s Viktor Nikiforov.”

“I…don’t think…” Yuuri frowned at his own glass of wine. “I mean…that couldn’t be true.” He glances at Phichit next to him. “Could it?”

“Sour grapes,” Phichit advises, and Yuuri isn’t as familiar with English idioms at that point, so he thinks Phichit is talking about the wine.

Yuuri mostly forgets about it, but somewhere in the back of his mind–he can’t stop thinking about it. He watches and rewatches Viktor’s old programs and wonders to himself if the reason he thinks they’re so good is because he’s watching them through rose-tinted glasses.

Yuuri and Phichit are suffering through finals and trying to survive through twenty-hour days of nothing but studying and skating. They lay themselves on the bleachers one afternoon while they’re supposed to be doing warm ups.

“What if I just quit school and became and underwater basket weaver,” Yuuri mumbles directly into the metal seat of the bleacher. “That would be fine, right?”

“WWVND,” Phichit replies. “What Would Viktor Nikiforov Do.”

“You’re right,” Yuuri sighs.

“Viktor Nikiforov is dumber than a box of rocks,” says of the other members of the club as she skates by. “You know he never even finished high school? I mean, what counts as high school in a country like Russia. The guy probably thinks two plus two equals borscht.”

“That’s not…” Yuuri smushes his nose against the bleacher. “Hey, that’s not…”

“FUCK OFF OLIVIA,” Phichit shrieks across the rink, and Celestino definitely hears. They have to do twenty minutes of line drills. 

“What Would Viktor Nikiforov Do, right boys?” asks Olivia as she watches Yuuri try not to heave after Celestino finally releases them from their Sisyphean torture.

“I’m gonna fucking kill her,” Phichit says, and he sounds so deeply serious that Yuuri is sincerely worried.

Several weeks later, someone mentions Viktor within earshot of Phichit and he jokingly says, “Watch what you say, that’s Yuuri’s future husband you’re talking about,” and it sort of makes Yuuri want to hit him but mostly makes Yuuri blush.

“Really?” replies that someone. “I don’t know about that, Yuuri. I wouldn’t touch that guy with a thirty foot pole. He sleeps around. Probably has all kinds of nasty stuff going on down there.”

“Oh, whatever,” Phichit says, rolling his eyes. “Like you would know.”

Yuuri ducks his head back into his book and tries not to think about it.

These are the things that Yuuri holds in the back of his mind about Viktor, the worries that travel with him anywhere he has even the chance of encountering Viktor Nikiforov. 

‘Never meet your heroes’ becomes something of the unspoken mantra of Yuuri’s life. 

Then Viktor Nikiforov catapults himself straight into Yuuri’s lap, and Yuuri learns a few things.

Viktor trains. Viktor trains hard. Viktor has neglected everything but training and skating and satisfying his own frantic need to be the best for twenty years. Viktor Nikiforov is a lonely, sad bookworm with one friend and a gaping, yearning need to be touched–and he did not get to be where he is without making sacrifices. 

Yuuri has never met anyone who made more sacrifices for this sport and this art than Viktor Nikiforov. It opens something up inside of him, throbbing and raw. It makes Yuuri want to take Viktor’s heart and shove it inside his own chest so that it never feels cold or lonely again. It makes him want to stand on the top of a tall building somewhere and scream fuck you to every person he’s encountered whose jealousy tried to convince him that this man was less than what he is.

And yes, Yuuri knows now that Viktor is forgetful and brutally honest and often doesn’t say the right thing at the right time.

He knows that Viktor is only ambidextrous in that he can use a fork with both hands and that it takes him twenty minutes in the morning to decide on a shirt to wear. He knows that Viktor Nikiforov is a blanket hog and that if Yuuri wants to wake up still covered in the morning, they have to have no less than three blankets on the bed at all times.

He knows that Viktor sometimes descends into these loops of manic energy where he wants to do everything and can’t sit still and in those moments, Yuuri wants to lock him in a room and leave him there until he starts making sense again.

He also knows that Viktor Nikiforov has the most genuinely beautiful soul that Yuuri has ever had the opportunity to touch. He knows that very few people in his life will ever love him like Viktor, and that he himself has never felt for anyone quite what he feels for this man. His man. 

He knows these things and he thinks that maybe Viktor is perfect after all, perfect in his imperfection. Every jagged edge of his fits into one of Yuuri’s, and every curve of Yuuri’s lovingly presses flush with Viktor’s until they fit together seamlessly, like a pair of puzzle pieces.

Yuuri is also still a very petty person on the inside, though–which is why he makes posts on Instagram that read things like Viktor received his sixth well-deserved Russian National gold today! Congratulations to my amazing fiance.

And also:

So proud of my husband for all of his hard work commentating at the #Olympics. Some people go to school for half their lives and aren’t half as articulate as my Vitya. #Proudhubby

After that last one, Phichit leaves a voicemail on Yuuri’s phone that is literally just two whole minutes of him laughing hysterically and then wheezing, “THE SALT!” before hanging up.

“Yuuri, why did Phichit just sent me…sixteen crying laughing emojis and a text that says ‘your husband I can’t,’ in all caps?”

“Because a lot of people tried telling me you weren’t perfect and I’m proving them wrong,” Yuuri replies, not even looking up from his phone.

“Oh,” Viktor says, and literally crawls on top of him.

Yuuri supposes that the moral of the story is that the heart wants what the heart wants, and you have to find perfection in the imperfections–Viktor is loud and ditzy and forgets the English word for tomato on an almost daily basis, but he’s Yuuri’s husband. And because he’s Yuuri’s husband, he’s perfect.

We're Already Married

So, I am supposed to be working on a chapter of a story and an angsty oneshot. But this fluffy drabble had to be written. It just had to.
——–


               “Draco, we need to talk.” Lucius told his son firmly as he and Narcissa walked into the room.

                “Mhm. Go ahead.” Came the little three-year-old’s distracted voice.

                Lucius rolled his eyes before stepping behind his son and peering down. “What in heaven’s name is that?”

                That had Narcissa circling the table and looking at her son’s face. His tongue was peeking out of his lips, eyes were narrowed in concentration while brows were furrowed and he seemed to be drawing something on a spare piece of parchment. She blinked uncertainly at the pure disaster of scribbles that were everywhere. If it wasn’t supposed to be a ball of rubbish, she honestly had no idea what her son was attempting to draw.

                “It’s Dobby. Can’t you tell?” Draco looked up with a wobbly lip and sad eyes as he pointed across the room to the house elf. As if the thought of it not looking like Dobby was a disaster.

                Lucius looked over for the first time and noted that the elf was in an odd pose with an apple balancing on his forehead.

                At his arched brows, Dobby hurried to explain. “Master Draco asked Dobby to be his muse.”

                “Is that so?” Lucius drawled with a heavy sigh. “Draco, you can’t order Dobby to play with you.”

                “Why not?”  

                Patience was not Lucius’ strong suit. He looked to the ceiling briefly before shaking his head. “We will have this conversation at a later date. There are more important things to discuss.”

                Draco hummed a little before looking up with wide eyes. “Am I in twouble? If so, Dobby did it.”

                A soft surprised noise emitted from the elf and Narcissa couldn’t help but laugh lightly. “No, you aren’t in trouble and don’t blame Dobby for things he didn’t do.”

                “Sowwy.” Draco apologized as he looked down at his hands.

                “Sorry.” Lucius corrected. For some reason, pronouncing R’s were hard for his son.

                Draco’s brows were pinched in confusion. “That’s what I said.”

                “No, you said—” Lucius paused as he decided to let it go. “Nevermind. What I have been trying to tell you is that we have come to discuss a pureblood tradition with you.”

                That had Draco’s expression souring. “No thanks.”

                Narcissa covered her mouth as she tried muffling her laughter. Salazar, she loved her son.

                “Draco.” The hard tone of his voice had his son straightening up and giving him a serious look. Finally.

                “When you come of age, you will be drawn into a marriage contract. This is something that most purebloods do and it is a standing tradition of the Malfoy family.” Lucius shot is wife a look when she crossed her arms. He knew that she didn’t agree and wanted Draco to find his own spouse but that wasn’t the plan.

                “I’m alweady mawried.” Draco interrupted excitedly!

                Lucius blinked rapidly. “You want to run that by me again?”

                “Hawwy asked me to mawwy him today! I said I would if he let me have his pudding. He did!”

                “And who pray tell is Hawwy?” Lucius shuddered at the pronunciation.

                “Hawwy is my best fwriend. He has pwetty eyes and he said I do too! We are mawried.”

                Narcissa smirked at her husband. “You hear that? He’s already married. Looks like that marriage contract is moot.”

                “Narcissa, you can’t possibly—”

                She stood up rapidly, holding out her hand for her son to take. “I can and I will. You want to explain to your son why he can’t marry his best friend? Because if so, you can deal with the aftermath.”

                Draco looked between them rapidly. “But…” His eyes filled with tears. “We alweady mawried.” The sniffle he released had Lucius closing his eyes. “Tomorrow’s the anni- anniver-” He scrunched up his nose as he looked to Narcissa for help.

                “Anniversary?” She offered picking him up and holding him close.

                Draco nodded rapidly as he wiped his eyes. “Yes. I want to give him a gift.”

                Narcissa smiled softly. “How about we go see if we can have one of the house elves cook him something. What kind of desserts does he like?”

                “Tweacle tawrt.”

                Lucius watched his wife and son walk out of the room with a shake of his head. He looked over and noticed that Dobby was still in the same awful pose. “Cease that at once.”

                When the elf let out a noise of relief, Lucius rolled his eyes. “What are the chances that I’ll get my way in the end?”

                He knew that Dobby couldn’t lie to him, so he was interested in hearing the response.

                The *pop* of the elf’s departure was heard and it had Lucius putting his face in his hands. “That’s what I was afraid of.”


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— ask and you shall receive | pt 1 (m)

pairing— jung hoseok x reader, sugar daddy! hoseok
genre/warnings— smut, lots of oral, slow burn, dirty talk, dom! hoseok
words— 13,865

:: summary— your sugar daddy says you don’t have to sleep with him if you don’t want to…trouble is, you do want to. You’re just nervous and a little inexperienced, but he catches on quick and begins to teach you the true pleasures of sex, and boy, are they good…

 » pt 1 :: pt 2 :: pt 3 :: pt 4

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My Girl

Request: Okay, so this is Sirius x Reader where you like him and he likes you but neither of you know that and you ask the Marauders and Lily and Marlene if they wanna go to Hogsmeade or whatever the next day but they are all busy except Sirius. So you guys go and you get cold so he gives you his hoodie and you forget to return it or don’t want to because it smells like him and when you do at the end of the day he gets really happy because it smells like you and he wears it. Basically just fluff thanks.

Word Count: About 2,800.

Warning(s): Sexual tension, slightly suggestive comments, Sirius being hot as hell, kissing and stuff.

Note: In summary, this is a Sirius x Reader work about a cold night at Hogsmeade. Also, I deviated a bit from the request. Just a bit.


“We’re all still on for tonight, right?”

“Yeah.” Lily nodded, shrugging on a warm jacket as she headed out the door. “Marlene said to meet them in the common room before we go.”

As you made your way down the staircase next to Lily, you spotted James, Peter, and Marlene lounging on a sofa near the fireplace. Huddled together, the trio seemed to be in a heated conversation.

Nearing them, you heard their hushed whispers.

“Hogsmeade–”

“Just make up some excuse to–”

Once Peter spotted you approaching, however, he nudged the other two into silence. 

“Y/N! Lily!” exclaimed Marlene, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear nervously. “Just the ones we’ve been waiting for.”

With a quirked eyebrow, you took a seat on the arm of the couch. When they smiled innocently at you, you shook your head with a small laugh, looking around the room. You thought it might be best to ignore their impish antics. Around you, the Gryffindor common room was bustling with life and chatter. But amidst it all, you couldn’t spot Sirius.

Not that you were waiting for him, of course. He just happened to cross your mind as you looked around.

“He’s almost ready,” said James, a cheeky grin playing on his face.

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Bruised (Richie/Eddie) 1/12

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

Warning(s): Suicide attempt?? , depression, mental illness’, mixture of fluff and angst throughout the series, homophobic slurs

A/N: Hi!! welcome to part 1 of IDK HOW MANY but ayy!! Honestly, i’M MAKING A TAG LIST FOR THIS SERIES SO IF ANYONE WHO DOESN’T WANNA FOLLOW ME OR WANTS TO BE NOTIFIED JUST ASK!!

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

Richie Tozier brought the cigarette between his lips, letting the toxic smoke fill his decaying lungs and pulse throughout his insides and swirls around in each crevice of his body. He then takes away the cancer stick, after a moment blowing out the toxic waste into the thin November air.

Beverly Marsh raised an eyebrow at him, sitting across from the much taller boy on the brick wall with her own cigarette between her fingers. She watched as the smoke faded into nothing, sighing lightly as she proceeded to watch her best friend smoke away.

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Jealousy Games 02

Description: You decide to play a game of push and pull with your ex Jungkook, bringing Jimin along for the ride.

Pairing: JungkookxReaderxJimin

Genre: Smut (M)

Word Count: 6.2k

Index: 01, 02, 03

Warnings: Jungkook’s POV, masturbation, dirty talk, voyeurism. 

A/N: Alright y’all. Here it is. After this chapter, we can officially head into everything @ellieljade and I have planned. You’re not ready, tbh. As always, thank you to Nicole for being my beta and soundboard. 

Enjoy~!

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All of the angry anti-radfem stuff that I see about periods has lately been bothering me. I’ve been in my bed today, with heating pads and ibuprofen, trying to distract myself from my uterus twisting around, and I’ve been giving it some thought.

A few days ago I saw someone say that older radfems “teach younger women to drink period blood”. I see complains about uterus artwork, about women who use period blood in their wiccan/witchcraft rituals, women being asked not to speak about their periods as women, and of course women describing vulvas as a “nightmare of flesh”. We’re accusing of reducing ourselves to genitalia, of being obsessed with our periods, told that nobody is oppressed because of their menstrual cycle (sometimes, of course, they add “in America”, as if female oppression is something else we’ve outsourced).

My mom told me that, when she was a kid, she didn’t wrap up a tampon enough when she threw it in the trash. Her dad called her in and hit her because “her brothers could have seen”. She tells me that one of the first times she fell in love with my dad was when she found out he kept tampons in his bathroom “just in case”. 

I remember being told that I couldn’t use the bathroom once in middle school, as I had already gone that class. My friend gave me a sweatshirt to tie around my waist after I bled through my pants. 

I remember in gym class, when we went out to run, trying to explain to my male teacher that I couldn’t run because I was on my period. He told me that I didn’t have a sick note and that telling him was inappropriate. I threw up on the track.

When I talk to doctors about my irregular periods, they tell me I must use hormonal birth control. We don’t have any medications that weren’t made to make women sexually available. The “period” you get on birth control is withdrawal from hormones. Nobody tells me for years that hormonal birth control doesn’t mix with mood disorders. Five doctors put me on this routine. Each time I go crazy. When I refuse with the last doctor, tell her I can’t do it again, she tells me to “grow up”.

My period hurts, hurts more than it should, with PCOS. My grandmother had it, had surgery after surgery like many women in her family, to remove ovaries bit by bit. They wouldn’t take them all out at first because, the doctors said, they might want to give birth. My grandmother calls it “her cancer”, because that’s how the doctor described it to her.

I know a woman who passed out in class. The teacher called an ambulance, and when they got there and she woke up she was mortified. She had endometriosis and she was angry that others had seen her in pain. I read later that cramps can be more painful than a heart attack. 

I ask if I can postpone a meeting at a job until the next day. My co-worker asks if I am PMSing because I’ve been so grumpy all day. I go to the restroom and vomit, because the nausea from my period is so awful. I miss days sometimes because I can’t make it out of bed.

So when I see positivity about periods, when I see people trying to make art about this thing we have in common, when I see women talking about ways to make their period more comfortable, when I see the stitched pads they make, when I see people who can view the period as somehow divine, I truly do appreciate it. It isn’t gross, or awful. What’s gross and awful is telling us to be silent, not letting us learn, not making accommodations, the idea that this is a thing that we have to actively hide.

I don’t think those things are “glorifying” periods, but so what if they are? I think that taking something that hurts and making it into something positive and beautiful is incredible. I think that accepting ourselves as we are and finding ways to love that are some of the best things we can do in life.

So, as I lay here, in a lot of pain, I just want to say thanks for all the talk about menstruation. I love your uterus art. I love the things that I’ve learned from women about menstruation–why we have periods and how that relates to our bodies avoiding pregnancy, what normal periods should look like, signs and symptoms of gynecological disorders, and how to use menstrual products that are less toxic to our bodies.

Our periods shouldn’t have a stigma, and we should remember that we aren’t alone. Cheers, and I hope all of you have a great day today :)

D.I.P. (Disabled In Public)

Sometimes I really hate being Disabled In Public. Like…. there’s a definitive difference between being disabled and in public and Disabled In Public, and it’s hard to articulate to people who don’t have to experience this phenomenon. Like, yesterday I was at the airport, flying home for summer break. I’m sitting in my wheelchair at the gate, waiting to pre-board, and the gate check woman comes up to me, bends down and puts her hands on her knees, and says, “Gosh! You’re so independent!” I’m 23 years old, I live on my own across the country, and I’m a fucking adult out in public. Yes. I’m independent. How kind of you to notice.

And this happens all the time! I’m fine with people complementing my canes, or the flowers on my chair in passing, but coming up to me, speaking down to me, infantilizing me…. it’s all part of being Disabled In Public. The second I’m out in public I become some sort of attraction to able bodied people. Walking (or rolling) clickbait. And none of my able-bodied friends or family quite understand why I get so frustrated, or why I snap at people.

I was at the mall with my dad yesterday, in my wheelchair, and at least three people stopped me to complement my wheelchair. Which is fine. Except for the third woman, who said in some sort of weird baby talk, “Aw, who did that for you? That was so nice of them!” Uh…. I did that myself. Because, again, I am an adult.

And after this my dad goes, “Gosh, does this happen all the time? It must be so annoying…” to which I’m about to be delighted, before he continues, “…but you’re kind of asking for it by decorating your chair.”

No, I’m not asking for it. I’m accessorizing. People don’t stop everyone else on the street to infantilize them for their accessories. It only happens when you’re Disabled In Public.

And I didn’t really mean to write some kind of essay on the subject, but honestly. Why can’t people leave us alone? I’m not a child, I’m not inspiration porn, I’m just a fucking person out in the world trying to live my fucking life without random people interrupting me to make me feel awkward and singled out and Disabled.

I don’t even know. I was taking a walk today and this idea popped into my head. I swear I’m still writing the bookstore AU, too. Also, *pops confetti*, I hit 2k followers today! Who ARE all you guys? Anyway, this fluff/ridiculousness is for you. ~1.6k words, rated G. Sterek, of course.

now also on AO3

The whole thing starts with Stiles really, really craving a meatball sub from the place across the street.

“God, someone shut him up,” Erica groans. They’re all kind of at their breaking point by now; they’ve been camped out in this meeting room all day, brainstorming. “He’s been talking about the same goddamn sandwich for seven and a half minutes now, and it’s making me hungry.”

“If only our ad campaign were about sandwiches, Stilinski would have it in the bag and we could all go home,” Isaac sighs.

From across the table, Derek rises abruptly to his feet and storms out. (Or maybe it’s just that Stiles always interprets everything Derek does as stormy. With those eyebrows, it’s hard not to.)

Stiles assumes he’s just gotten so fed up with them all that it’s either storm out or kill someone, and he’s just grateful Derek chose Door Number 1. It’s a good day not to get killed by Derek Hale.

Only, fifteen minutes later he comes back in. With a paper bag from the deli.

As soon as he gets within grabbing distance, Stiles practically collapses across the table in his haste to reach for it. “Oh my god, is that what I think it is?”

Derek holds it up over his head. “Who says this is for you? Maybe all your talk inspired me to go get a meatball sub of my own.”

“Oh, please. Like anyone with your abs eats meatball subs.” Stiles leaps to his feet on his swivel chair—because screw safety, Derek will catch him if he starts to topple over—and snatches the bag out of Derek’s grip. Derek doesn’t fight him for it very hard.

“Why don’t I get a meatball sub?” Erica whines, thumping her head down on her notebook. “Doesn’t anyone love me?”

Derek shrugs and takes his seat again. “You didn’t ask.”

“You just like Stilinski better,” she grumbles, and Derek just shrugs again.

Meanwhile, Stiles rips into the bag and takes a huge bite out of the gloriousness that is this sandwich. He can’t help throwing in a few theatrical moans just to taunt Erica, and she suitably rewards him with a glare of death across the table.

“Mmm,” Stiles says. “Derek, I love you so much, dude. Marry me.”

Instead of the grumpy eyebrows he expects, Derek meets his eye, leans back smugly in his chair, and says, “Okay.”

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Mixtapes (Richie/Eddie)

Summary: Both Richie and Eddie are very fond of each other and often tease each other affectionately, especially Richie to Eddie. So Bill and Stan both play cupid, which results in swapping mixtapes for eachother.

Warning(s): Bad language, 13 year olds kissing (don’t read if you think its fucking weird?? bc its not), if you think this is me sexualising these cuties-don’t bother

Richie’s Mixtape to Eddie

Eddie’s Mixtape to Richie

A/N: Look at my children in love, PLEASE I highly recc listening to either of the mixtapes that are linked above^^? They are both very 70/80′s. btw I do requests? If anyone wants to hit me up an x reader or a ship in IT 2017 (or IT in general) I’ll be glad to do so?? don’t be shy

“Awe, Eds. Look at you.” Richie cooed teasingly, pinching Eddie’s slowly flushing cheek.

Eddie quickly began swatting at Richie’s hand, his eyebrows furrowed heavily and a frown on his lips, “Don’t touch me with your rotten hands, asshole!”

Richie ignored his protests and flinched away from his swats, moving his hand to now over his shoulders and pulling the smaller boys frame into his own side, a grin on his lips.  “You’re such a cutie, Eds.”

“No, No I’m fucking-”

“Both of you, shut up.” Stanley grumbles after rolling his eyes several times at the two.

Richie snapped his eyes at Stan, glaring through his coke bottle glasses, which only enhanced his eye size even more. He held Eddie closer, even with Eddie’s flushed cheeks he still squirmed lightly.

Stan sighs in relief and folds his arms as the group goes back to its usual discussion about the new random comic book of the week. Eddie couldn’t help but allow his heart to beat faster at Richie’s touch against his form, making him feel protected in his stronger grip. He couldn’t help but zone out as Richie begun to bicker that his comic book that he found was better than Stan’s.

Bill tilted his head, analysing Eddie as his eyes would flicker all over the place with his mouth gaping before closing every now and then and gulping. He knew that how he was acting wasn’t the norm for Eddie whenever Richie was like this, something was different. Not to mention that he had stopped struggling against Richie who wasn’t even holding Eddie tightly or forcing him in place.

Bill smiled a bit, as something clicked inside of his head- a plan. But he was going to need Stanley to help out.


That night, on the way home from their adventurous summer day- Bill was walking Eddie home as Stanley had taken Richie to a different route. Bill hummed a tune as he walked alongside his friend, grinning as he turned to look at him.

“So…”

Eddie looked at Bill, tilting his head, “So?”

“So, y-..you and Richie?”

“Yeah?” Eddie was confused, almost disgust in his voice- but Bill could see past the faux disgust.

“I saw how you were t-today, Eddie. Y-you were blushing.”

This again, only caused Eddie to heat up as his form became a flustered mess and he glared at Bill. “You would blush too if someone touched your arm!”

“N-no, I’d only b-blush if Bev touched my arm there.” Bill pointed out, “but in this instance, you blushed when Richie had his arm around you- as well when he pinched your cheek and called you a ‘cutie’, it’s quite obvious.”

Eddie snapped his head away, patting his fanny pack for reassurance for himself. “Whats your point?”

“My point? M=my point is that he’s flirting with you; y-you like him.”

“I don’t like him! And he isn’t flirting with me! He acts like that with everyone-”

Bill cuts Eddie off quickly, “E-Eddie, do you see him pinching any of our cheeks and calling us a ‘cutie’? He doesn’t put his arms a-around us or any of the shit he does for you, not to mention he calls you E-Eds and doesn’t have a nickname for any of us.”

“Okay Bill-”

“N-n..not to mention, he carries an extra i-inhaler around just incase you lose yours.”

Thats when Eddie’s breath hitches, feeling butterflies go crazy in his abdomen, adoration swirling and tugging at his heart strings. He could practically hear his heart in his ears loud and clear.

“He… he does?” Eddie whispers, his voice quivering a bit.

“Yeah, even though he knows that you don’t even need it anymore, because you know, gazebos and your Mom making your illness up and shit but- yeah.” Bill smiles, watching how the young boy was falling more and more in love.

Eddie then quickly holds his wrist, feeling his pulse; resulting his fingertips quivering from feelings how his heart was beating with happiness.

“Oh… I-I never knew that. He’s never told me…”

“That’s b-because you’ve never needed it, but he always has.”

Eddie bites his lip, “What a fucking, what- he’s a fucking dick.” Eddie protests, blushing bright as ever.

“Sure he is,” Bill chuckled, “But l-look, I wanna help you. I know when someone is in love when I see it.”

“How?” Eddie asked, neither denying his feelings or admitting.

“Well.. It i-involves music.”


Meanwhile, Stanley was grumbling to himself in annoyance and cursing Bill’s name for getting him into this situation with Richie Tozier. He didn’t want to do this, but Bill had promised to give him some candy as a reward if it goes well.

“So, Richie. I’m gonna make this quick as possible so I can just go home.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Richie asked with pure confusion, a single eyebrow furrowing and one raising.

“You like Eddie, Eddie likes you.” Stan started, his face full of boredom, “Can you just hurry up and tell him?”

Richie was shocked by his friend’s words at first, before smirking. “Hell yeah I like him, I tell him all the time.”

“I mean genuinely, you asshole.” Stan sighed, “Not as a joke or some shit, literally confess your fucking feelings to him or something.”

Richie rolls his eyes, not being fazed by the situation, “What makes you think I like him seriously? I’m not fucking gay-”

“It’s pretty fucking clear you like girls, after you telling us for the full day about the first time you ‘tickled your pickle’ to a random magazine that had huge boobs all over it. But you like guys too, there’s nothing wrong with that.” Stan spoke with a monotone voice, managing to not let any voice cracks slip.

Richie scoffed, “I don’t like him, he’s a friend and I like to tease him.”

“You tease him by calling him ‘cute’ and you give him a nickname, you don’t do it to anyone else. You like him, just admit it- no one is judging you.” 

Richie frowned, huffing a bit and rolling his eyes. “Well, what if I did? Whats your point and where are you going with this?”

Stan smirked, patting Richie’s back forcefully, causing him to stumble forward.

“What’s your taste in music like?”


The next day, both Richie and Eddie were walking to school together in perfect unison, both of them holding a tape in their pocket that held a variety of songs that the one had imagined for the other.

Richie gulped, for once actually nervous around Eddie. What would Eddie think of him? It was a fucking mixtape, it was Richie’s music taste. Would he even like it? Would he-

“Richie, here. I want you to have this.” Eddie cut off Richie’s thoughts, holding up a tape alike to Richie’s.

Richie blinked twice, stopping in his steps. The tape was all black and what seemed to be painted on with nail polish ‘Sucks to Suck’ on top of the tape. 

“I-it’s a mixtape.” Eddie mumbled awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck as he felt flustered.

Richie stayed silent, slowly taking the tape, analysing it with soft eyes before looking up with confusion. He turned over the  mix tape to see ‘to Richie’ painted with the same shade of white but in smaller writing.

“You made one too?” He spoke quietly, his head tilted to the side which caused his dark brown hair to tilt too.

“What?”

“Look…” Richie dug into his pocket and pulled out his own black tape which had a sticker on it, saying ‘Gimmie head til’ I’m dead!’ on it, with writing scribbled onto the back saying ‘to Eds’ with a cheeky smiley face, “I made one too, here.” He handed it over.

Eddie’s eyes widened, blushing a bit as he took it from the glasses wearing boy and read over it- mentally scoffing at the sticker but he was in awe of the idea that both of them had somehow made a mixtape for the other.

“You too?” Eddie whispered in shock.

“Well, yeah- but it wasn’t my idea.”

“It wasn’t mine either.” 

Richie quickly smirked, rolling his eyes, “They fucking set us up.”

“Who? Bill? Because it was Bill’s idea for me-” Eddie began to ramble on.

“It was Stan’s idea for me.”

Eddie then stopped, sighing with a grin- poking his tongue in his cheek. “Fuck, that makes sense.”

Both look at each other with grins slowly spreading over their chapped lips, soon the two boys were in a fit of giggles due to the realisation of the sweet situation. Both never taking eyes off one another, blushes spreading to their ears and down their necks.

“I, I guess I’ll listen to this tonight?” Richie’s voice broke, still calming down from his fit of giggles.

“Yeah, me too… I-i uh, I picked out the songs carefully and put them in order a certain way, so..” Eddie trailed off, becoming a little ashamed incase Richie would tease him for his effort.

But Richie only felt love swell inside of him at those words, he grabbed Eddie’s hand with his free one and leant forward, bending down slightly, whilst pressing their lips together for the first time. Eddie’s eyes widened in shock, before melting and wrapping his free arm around Richie’s neck with the mixtape in his firm grip. Both merged together in sync and harmony, with their lips swelling and becoming saturated in colour. Richie wrapped his other arm around Eddie’s waist and too held his mix tape tightly as they both kissed in the middle of the street, hand in hand, with no shame at all.


Eddie sat down at his desk, placing his headphones over his head, pressing play as quickly the flood of Richie vibes swirled into his eardrums. Finally, after many aching hours at school he had time to listen to this mixtape.

I don’t want to know your name

Cause’ you don’t look the same

The way you did before

Okay, you think you got a pretty face

But the rest of you is out of place

You looked alright before…

Eddie chuckled at the familiar song, it often played in arcades that the Losers club all went too. It went under the title ‘Fox on the Run’ and it was by ‘The Sweets’.

Fox on the run!

You scream and everybody comes a running!

Take a run and hide yourself away…

Foxy on the run!

F-foxy!

Fox on the run…

And hide away!

Eddie listened to every song intensely, capturing the vibe of Richie Tozier perfectly. He had even picked out songs that they both loved and favoured. Eddie really adored Richie’s music taste and everything about it, it perfectly described him as a person and he loved that.

Soon, the last song came on. By the instrumental, Eddie recognised it to be ‘Can’t Help Falling in Love With You’ by Elvis Presley. HIs heart hammered quickly.

Wise men say,

Only fools rush in

But I, cant help, falling in love with you…

Shall I stay?

Would it be a sin?

If I can’t help, falling in love with you…

Eddie’s breath hitched in his throat, feeling his pulse echo throughout his system. This was not part of Richie’s vibe at all, but part of Eddie’s. Eddie loved Elvis Presley whilst Richie wasn’t a big fan of him. 

But this song was magical and made for someone special, so Eddie was shocked and swooned. Very much so captivated.

Eddie Kaspbrak was falling in love with Richie Tozier.


Later that night, Richie laid down in bed with his cheap headphones, before plugging them into the mixtape and pressing the button to get the songs going.

The first song started; it was of course one of Richie’s favoured artists as well as Eddie’s. From what he knew, this was one of Eddie’s favourite songs from David Bowie, it was called Heroes and it was a truly beautiful song.

I, I will be king.

And you, you will be queen.

Though nothing, will drive them away

We can beat them, just for one day.

Oh we can be heroes!

Just for one day.

And you, you can be mean.

And I, I drink all the time.

Because we’re lovers, and that is a fact.

Yes we’re lovers, and that is that.

Though nothing, will keep us together

We could steal time, just for one day.

We could be heroes, forever and ever.

What’d you say?

Richie felt his heart pump faster and swell as the mixtape carried on, each song having Eddie’s vibe to it. But Richie could tell that they matched him in a way that made Eddie pick it for him to listen to. Everything was intentional.

After a good 50 minutes, the final song was starting to play. Yet Richie wasn’t prepared for what he was about to hear.

Hey Jude…

Don’t make it bad,

Take a sad song, then make it better.

Remember, to let her into your heart.

Then you can start to make it better.

Richie’s eyes widened as his thoughts wandered back to Eddie’s simple words. ‘I picked out the songs carefully and put them in order a certain way.’ This meant that Eddie had intentionally wanted Richie to hear this song last.

Hey Jude…

Don’t be afraid.

You were made to go out and get her.

The minute you let her under your skin

Then you begin to make it better.

Richie felt the tears prick at his waterline as this was the first time of him being emotional at a song. Eddie was the only person that knew about Richie’s home life, how he was neglected by his parents constantly and was alone. He knew that the reason why Richie was so loud and out there was because he didn’t receive the attention he deserved at home, so he wanted it from friends. He wanted to make people laugh, Eddie knew this.

Eddie’s key words lingered in his brain, as it stuck out to him that this single song revealed that Eddie’s whole mixtape was set up in a way to help Richie throughout dark times or whenever he felt alone, so he could remember that Eddie had cared enough to set up this mixtape in perfect order to make Richie stronger in that given moment.

And anytime you feel the pain,

Hey Jude, refrain

Don’t carry the world upon your shoulders.

For well you know that it’s a fool,

Who plays it cool

By making his world a little colder.

Richie’s tears finally fell, making him take his glasses off to refrain any of the tears staining the lenses. Eddie had purposely picked this song as if to say that Richie was in fact his Jude, he wanted Richie to get better and hopefully have a better mindset besides his life at home.

Nah, nah nah, nah nah, nah nah, nah nah…

His breaths shook, as he held the mixtape to his chest with the headphones still placed perfectly on his head. He was thankful to have someone like Eddie who would even bother to do this, as something as simple as this with so much thought put into it only made him fall in love with the small boy even more.

SKAM S04E08 Clip 6 - Happy Birthday to you

ADAM: We’re fasting. We’re not having hotdogs.

ESKILD: Is that Fedon Lindberg, or who is it?

LINN: I’ve probably had chlamydia like thirteen times, it’s like.. Just take some antibiotics and it’s gone.

VILDE: Yeah.

LINN: But in the eye? I haven’t heard that one before.

EVEN: You can just do it from your side. Should I do it now? Bad hit!

ELIAS: Awesome! Look what he did now.

EVEN: Hey, guys!

MAGNUS: Hey! Hey. I’m Magnus.

ELIAS: I’m Elias.

MAGNUS: You know my girlfriend.

ELIAS: Oh.. The blonde one?

MAGNUS: Yeah.

ELIAS: Right! Yeah, yeah, yeah. She has talked lots about you.

MAGNUS: She did?

ELIAS: Yeah, she talked about you a lot.

MAGNUS: What does she say about me?

Keep reading

modern soc au

inej: 

  • loves to dance !!! esp ballet but she can dance to whatever tbfh, she’s that good 
  • likes to wear caps, esp backwards. really loves bomber jackets too. 
  • has a couple, small tattoos dedicated to her saints 
  • is that one kid who loves to do parkour (both ironically and unironically) for instance is really good at it but sometimes just yells PARKOUR and steps over a rock
  • usually found eating lunch with her pals on the roof of the school 
  • is amazing at hide and seek like holy fuck ????? hid for 2 hours once and wasn’t found, came back the next day and was like “y'all losers SUCK" 
  • loves to study other people’s cultures, as well as history and is great as p.e (never has gotten a bad grade in the flexibility tests) 
  • likes to read poem books 
  • has a black cat as a pet named “saint" 
  • pronounced meme as "mehmeh” the first time she read it 
  • only has snapchat and instagram. is that kid who ALWAYS posts the sunset every day, esp from weird/high places and the comments are always “HOW THE FUCK DID YOU GET UP THERE" 
  • cried the most during fox and the hound 
  • always braiding nina’s hair. Knows how to do all the super advanced onces as well
  • "I don’t know, CAN YOU?" 
  •  the best one at pushing people on the swings 
  • AMAZING AT JUST DANCE WITH JESPER 
  • "sorry I ran out of fucks to give try again later maybe?" 
  • gives the nicest presents. always knows what a person wants for christmas/their birthday 
  • the one who’s really into photography and is always taking aesthetic™ pics of Nina for her social media accounts 
  • Prefers tea over coffee

wylan:

  • bullied for not being able to read (at least up until high school), so is super shy 
  • loves drawing. the artistic™ one who takes anatomy to be able to draw people better 
  • MASTER FLUTE MUSICIAN. On the school band. Jams hard af when he plays it 
  • is in gem math and AP chem with kuwei. 
  • loves sweet. addicted to blue jolly ranchers. his tongue is always blue 
  • constantly pushing up his thick rimmed glasses (even if they ain’t on, which causes him to poke his eye)
  • looooves all the superhero shows on the CW 
  • V neck sweaters. always
  • always has his trusty satchel
  • only has tumblr. has like 10k followers because of his artwork. 
  • ”‘illuminati’ ? is that a band?“ 
  • cat person even though he’s allergic to cat fur. absolutely adores inej’s cat. settles for owning a horned lizard named "shrek" 
  • secretly a huge fan of memes 
  • really gay for tom holland and ed sheeran (calls him "ginger Jesus”) 
  • gamer with jesper. they always play overwatch together, wylans better tho. a genji and Ana main 
  • cried the most during big hero six 
  • wylan, with blank eyes: “I like my coffee how I like my men” // jesper: *spits out his drink* 

matthias: 

  • sports fan obv. On the schools hockey team bc his fav is hockey. is extremely competitive when he plays it. Is constantly checking but never gets penalties (aka slamming the other players against the walls)
  • played basketball against jesper and surprisingly lost. jesper won’t let it go 
  • dog person. owns a pet pomsky (Pomeranian-husky) with nina who’s name is “bub" 
  • “long hair don’t care”draws inspiration from Harry styles 
  • really philosophical. takes all the philosophy/ethics classes available 
  • kind of sounds like Thor (thick and deep accent) 
  • a good™
  • "you’re all horrible trash”
  • “do we really have to be doing this now? I have to finish my homework" 
  • loves baking. bakes everything for the love of his life 
  • grey sweatshirts and adidas shoes 
  • wears contacts Because he hates how glasses look on him. only wears them when he’s home 
  • oblivious to all the women in love with him
  • "CAN YOU EVEN LIFT BRO? BECAUSE I SURE AS FRICK CAN” (doesn’t curse) 
  • real 👍🏻🤘🏻👌🏻life🤰🏻👼🏻🌱student📚✂️✏️athelete🏃🏼🥇🏆🥅🏒
  • has Facebook and Twitter only
  • cried the most during bambi and dumbo 
  • little spoon™ 
  • has a couple tattoos with very deep meanings

jesper: 

  • dancer with inej. dances like those ppl who look like robots ??? the ones who look like they freeze parts of their body while the others move. AMAZING at it 
  • loves jazz but also dubstep/edm and rap/r&b. Beyoncé is MOM/QUEEN. 
  • sometimes djs parties 
  • again, huge gamer with wylan. he’s a lucio and junkrat main for overwatch. loves like every video game ever 
  • loves all the marvel movies, in love with black panther (was team cap) 
  • dresses like a hipster but also sometimes a fuck boy (tank tops and shorts with a backwards cap style) 
  • favorite subject is business and debate. great negotiator 
  • cried the most during the lion king 
  • A+ cosplayer (especially his lucio cosplay) 
  • big supporter of human rights (LGBTA+, feminist, black lives matter, poc representation). Will LITERALLY get into fights over anyone who thinks otherwise. Fist fights, always supported by Kaz and Matthias. Got suspended for 3 days for breaking a kids nose who thought LGBTA+ people should **** ** ****) 
  • that one kid who has 50 fidget spinners and can do cool tricks with them. also manages to sell all of them 
  • skateboard pro™ 
  • always sends the blinking face meme, even if it’s out of context 
  • all the social medias. 
  • one tattoo only of a gun with a ‘bang’ flag coming out of it 

nina: 

  •  PROFESSIONAL👏🏻 MAKE 👏🏻 UP 👏🏻 ARTISTS 👏🏻👏🏻👏🏻👏🏻👏🏻 HAS HUNDREDS OF THOUSANDS OF FOLLOWERS ON HER INSTAGRAM AND THE SAME FOR HER YOUTUBE CHANNEL 
  • Speaking of YouTube, she always does cute videos. Baking/cooking tutorial videos featuring Matthias, 'i do my boyfriends makeup’, 'my boyfriend does my makeup’, 'my boyfriend buys my makeup’, does make up tutorials obviously, challenges with her best friend inej like the 'whisper challenge’. everyone loves her and says her and Matthias are their otp 
  • loves fashion design, takes that class. 
  • loves horror movies/creepy things but also Disney 
  • great at roller skating 
  • always wins the best dressed awards ad school 
  • also huge fan of ed sheeran. loves little mix more than 5h. 
  • cried the most during 'up' 
  • Can speak like 4 languages (English, french, Latin and spanish) 
  • loves traveling and learning about new cultures too 
  • dancer!inej’s biggest fan and hockey!matthias’ biggest fan 
  • always breaks snapchat streaks 
  • likes to (friendly) debate with jesper, especially over stupid things 
  • amazing with kids. babysits all the time. calls “bub” (the dog) her and matthias’ baby 
  • big spoon™ 
  • notes are so fucking pretty. buys the most expensive stationary and notebooks 
  • also huge supporter of human rights. runs the feminist club. (Jesper is the Vice President) stresses loving yourself and your body, and makes sure to design comfortable yet GORGEOUS clothes for “"plus sized people”“ 
  • wins 'dynamic duo’ award with inej 
  • always eating lollipops 
  • has a few very small tatos of cute things like roses and crowns. has one quote written in cursive on her rib

kaz: 

  • prefers black coffee as well 
  • loves crime shows, whether they’re real or fake. for instance loves both 'Dateline’ and 'Criminal Minds’ also loves 'House’
  •  favorite class is psychology, learning how a person thinks and acts and feels
  • has the dregs tattoo on his arm * edge lord 9000™ * such a drama queen and diva like damn 
  • *deep sigh* "I think I’d rather go take a nap” *gets up and leaves* 
  • also loves computer science. knows how to hack shit like a pro 
  • always rough housing with jesper. broke a table once 
  • does walk with a cane. likes to slap matthias’ ass with it 
  • “bow down you fucking peasants" 
  • only types in lower case with 0 emojis and no punctuation marks. CONSTANTLY leaves people on read 
  • only has Twitter and snapchat. His posts on snapchat never have captions, yet somehow has a 200 day streak with Jesper and a 250 day streak with inej 
  • loves watching horror movies with nina 
  •  *in a fight* "oh I’ll sHOW YOU SOME DIRTY HANDS” *swings* 
  • gets second place for best dressed award 
  • always sending memes with no context in their group chat, as well as vines 
  • indie and alternative rock fan 
  • “does it look like I care because I’m sorry if it does I didn’t mean to give you that impression" 
  • head over heels for inej Ghafa like wow 
  • likes to read a lot of mystery books and non fiction books 
  • cried the most during finding dory 
  • can solve a Rubik’s cube under a minute and won’t let you forget it 
  • The one asshole who picks either Kirby or metaknight in super smash brothers brawl
  •  hates seeing the notification bubble so he always has all chats muted and notifications turned off for apps 
  • kiss ass to all the teachers to get them A’s

Kuwei: 

  • SCIENCE NERD. ALWAYS singing the bill nye theme song. Loves ASAPScience on YouTube. Master at chemistry and biology 
  • "hey did u know bill nye is, like, my dad" 
  • nina treats him like a baby 
  • loves everything to do with Star Wars while wylan loves star trek more. Fighting ensues. 
  • has a pet Siamese cat name sparky 
  • Used to have a huge crush on jesper and everyone knew it except jesper. 
  • knows the intro to the bee movie ("according to all known laws of aviation-”)
  •  jesper in the group chat: “gonna go shower be right back” // kuwei: “without me ;)?” // wylan: “KUWEI SWEAR TO FUCK” // kaz: “watch your fucking language wylan" 
  • obsessed with Pokémon go even if it died out (chose team instinct) 
  • "fight me on this" 
  • has Twitter, snapchat and instagram 
  • Always drinking ginger ale 
  • master at bop it 
  • the one kid who always forgets to pay you back for stuff 
  • is also into the CW super hero shows, so him and wylan are constantly talking about it 
  • loves cartoons and anime 
  • speaks fluent fuckboy 
  • God awful at comebacks 
  • "let’s take a selfie guys !!!” // “kuwei no-” // *snapshot sound* 
  • talks !!! Like !! This !!!! for,,, some reason ???????? 
  • huge nerd for other things too like lord of the rings and Harry Potter and game of thrones 
  • cried the most during inside out
  •  "do you think planes are scared of heights?“ // "for fucks same kuwei it’s 4am”
romanian slang (we swear a lot) cuz ive seen none
  • căcat - literal ‘shit’ . used in the same way. ‘’Frate nu mai e brânză.’’ ‘’Căcat.’
  • ce căcat- a bit different from căcat. kinda like ‘’wtf’’ .used in confusing situations (but not only) to show well confusion/surprise. ‘’Uită-te la asta.’’ ‘’Ce căcat.’’
  • ce dracu’- literal ‘’what the devil’’ kinda like ‘’what the hell’’. see: ce căcat
  • ce brânza mă-sii- ‘’what in its’mothers’ cheese’ see: ce dracu’
  • ce pizda mă-sii- ‘’what in its’ mothers’ pussy’’ dont do it. see above
  • să mor eu!- literal ‘’may i die’’ (???) more like ‘’im dead serious’’/’’damn’’. used to strenghten your point. ‘’Zici că-i prost, să mor eu.’’
  • să mori tu?- literal ‘’may you die’’ kinda like ‘’really?’’/’’deadass?’’ used to show distrust in someone’s sayings but also used in a sarcastic way.  ‘’Am dat foc la o casa.’’ ‘’Să mori tu?’’ vs. *smoke inside the house* ‘’Am ars mâncarea.’’ ‘’Să mori tu?’’
  • mor- ‘’im dying’’ used in the same way. ‘’*something funny happens* MOR’’
  • leșin- ‘’im fainting’’ used like ‘’i cant even’’ see: mor.
  • prea bine (ești)- literal ‘’oh well/alright’’ but today its used in a more methaporical way ‘‘too good’’ when something is going well or its cool, or according to our plans or,,,,,, the longer the ‘a’ the better the reaction
    ‘‘Avem băutură diseară’‘ ‘‘PREA BINE’‘
  • (ești) pe bines- uhhh ‘’you’re on the good’’ used when someone is talking about nice stuff happening to them or when they look good or they have fun *photo with friends at a picnic* ‘’pe bines’’ see: prea bine
  • să vă țină- used to wish well to a couple. meaning ‘’may itll last’’ 
    ‘‘M-am cuplat cu ____’‘ ‘‘Aw, să vă țină!’‘
  • pup (besc)- ‘’kiss (i love)’’ yeahhh ‘’besc’’ is a shorter version of ‘’(te) iubesc’’ - i love (you)’’ 
  • csf ncsf- shorter from ‘’ce să faci n-ai ce să faci’’ meaning ‘’what can you do theres nothing you can do’’ used when hearing unpleasant things. also used mockingly. ‘’M-a inșelat gagica-’’ ‘’csf ncsf’’
  • prost- common ‘’dumb’’ or ‘’working badly’’ someone may be ‘’prost’’ but also something can ‘’merge prost’’ i.e ‘’go wrong’’
  • parcă-i prost / parcă ești prost- ‘’as if he’s dumb’’ / ‘’as if you’re dumb’’ used to point out how stupid is someone without actually saying it. ‘’Am scăpat telefonu’ de gresie.’’ ‘’Da’ parcă ești prost’’.
  • ca la proști- ‘’like at the idiots’’ used to point out a situation in which you can tell that idiots took part or something went wrong/was embarrassing. *drops a card deck* ‘’Ca la proști.’’ see: parcă-i prost.
  • tâmpit/ule- ‘’you dumbass’’ yeah. 
  • fraier/e- same with ‘tâmpit/ule’ but like more affectionate. means ‘’airhead’’ 
  • gen- ‘’like’’. ‘’Știi gen..’’-’’Y’know like..’’
  • futu-ți morții mă-tii- aka everyone’s favourite ‘’fuck your moms’ dead relatives’’ used as a threat. *bumps toe on a drawer* futu-ți morții mă-tii.
  • futu-ți gâtu’ mă-tii- ‘’fuck your moms’ throat’’ uh. see: futu-ți morții mă-tii
  • futu-ți ceapa mă-tii- ‘‘fuck your moms’ onion’‘ see above. 
  • să-mi bag picioru’/pula- ‘’may ill put my foot / my dick in it’’ second one’s more vulgar. used to show denial and anger. kinda like ‘’fuck it’’
  • am pățit- literal ‘’happened to me’’ more like ‘’been there done that’’ used to show concern by being a good listener and also to be relatableTM ‘’Vreau să mă sinucid’’ ‘’Am pătit.’’

random klance stuff (consider it a sequel of this post):

  • they have a very long, intense conversation about what life was like at the garrison. they talk about the subjects they disliked, the one they liked etc. at some point the convo takes a sudden turn and keith gets more personal as it continues. “i was always on my own i never tried to open myself up and i’m genuinely sorry for it. who knows maybe..maybe we could have been friends back there, maybe…maybe something more.” cue lance smiling because this boy
  • when they come back to earth i imagine keith sort of awkwardly standing to the side while the other paladins all approach their families until lance comes up to him like “keith we’re your family never forget that. by the way…. my family would love if you….spent some time with us….ya know ahahaha….because we’re friends!!!” and keith accepts gladly ofc. *at lance’s house* “aw is this the guy you had a crush on??”
  • sometimes they’ll try to prank each other but it’s pretty tame compared to actual pranks. lance, holding the space phone in his hands recording keith while he’s eating some food go: hey keith
    keith: lance…what are you doing?
    lance: HA YOU’RE ON SPACE CANDID CAMERA! SMILE! btw you’ve got some food goo on your cheek
    keith: *giggles uncontrollably*
  • a moment when one tells the other “thank you for believing in me” followed by one of those kisses where one is surprised at first, but slowly mets into it
  • lance rants with red (bc they become buds along the way) about keith sometimes although the conversation always ends on the soft side. “keith is cool but don’t tell him i said that” “lance i’m literally behind you i can hear what you’re saying” lance: *jumps*
  • they’re on a mission and have to sleep very close to each other and lance notices that keith talks in his sleep and lance teases him the next day because he mumbled something along the lines of “today’s the day of me and lance’s wedding” cue keith blushing furiously (he doesn’t deny it though)
  • keith makes lance comb his hair in the morning because he finds it extremely relaxing, and while he’s at it, he often tells him about his day or things from his childhood and lance is very pleased to hear his stories
  • after they start dating, keith puts a little picture of him and lance in the black lion, right next to the screen so that he can be reminded of something that’s very important to him everytime they go on missions
  • “lance is irreplaceable, end of the story”
  • lance asks keith if he got to say goodbye to red bc he’s the only one who can understand what it’s like to leave the lion you were bonded to and keith says “no, but i know she’s in good hands. no one could do better than you” while smiling softly at him
  • they confess their feelings at the same time, but both are ready to admit that they should have said it sooner
  • sometimes they’ll team up to do something goofy, like that one time they involved hunk in making “good luck pidge” videos
  • keith finds something to give to lance as a gift and to lance it’s like the most precious thing in the world “i know it’s nothing specia–” “are you kidding me? i’m keeping this forever!”
  • lance: *wakes up keith in the middle of the night* do you think a transformer could beat voltron? keith: go back to sleep babe
  • an incovenience: *happens* keith: the guy i like wouldn’t treat me like this lance: well the guy I LIKE wouldn’t treat me like this either! (they’re talking about each other)
  • you know where keith says there’s no time for this? this time he says it because they have to go on a mission and they can’t cuddle
  • they gotta do the “looking at each other from a distance sadly” at least once where both are about to say something but get interrupted with the classic “am i interrupting something” followed by a “ok i’ll leave you two alone” l: “were you going to say something?” k: “uhm well i…hope you have fun”
  • when! are! we! gonna! see! keith! blush!
  • i lowkey want a “do you trust me?” scene with them
  • lance: keith don’t do it
    keith: ok
    lance: oh my go— wait…babe
  • after they start dating keith would often cheer on lance when he’s about to do some of his sharpshooting tricks
  • keith and lance met at the garrison with the classic “books that fell off trope” and y’all can fight me on this
  • keith: we had another bonding moment! you cradled me in your arms!!
    lance: nope, don’t remember, didn’t happen :/
  • a diplomatic party where keith gets extremely distracted by lance throughout the whole thing and he actually confronts him about it. “dude what the hell has gotten into you today???” “sorry i was… i was looking only at one guy in the room the whole time.”
  • *team plays would you rather* keith: would you rather me kiss lance or have lance kiss me
    “keith that’s not…how the game works”
  • *discussing something* “yeah sure and i’m not cute” “but you are” “exactly“ “ok you got me”
  • lance would be super in love with keith especially during the very first days of dating when he can see him in the morning, hair all messy, and he would still think he’s the most beautiful boy he’s ever seen
  • *keiths voice*: if you remember the bonding moment clap your hands
  • they have a discussion where they decide not to talk to each other and use their friends as a way to communicate. “hey shiro CAN YOU PLEASE TELL LANCE to stop looking at me? his eyes are pretty and it’s distracting”
    “hey hunk TELL KEITH that i ABSOLUTELY do NOT feel the same. like at all.”
    hunk and shiro: we get it you like each other
  • keith asking lance on a date for the first time but trying to be subtle (he fails at it though) “so… y’know….i like spending time with you…a lot...we’ve gotten pretty close and you’ve basically stuck with me and saw me at my best and at my worst…i wouldn’t mind if we…did it more often?” “oh? sure? we can do something all together! there’s this planet with a beach th–”
    “no,no…i meant…just the two of us this time?”
    lance: *blushes* oh—-OH
  • they’d sure as hell acknowledge that they’re a power couple and would be proud of it
  • “hey beautiful” “uh?”
    “i was..talking to red, actually. but you’re beautiful too”
  • keith: I DON’T LIKE LANCE OK
    shiro: no one said anyth—
    keith: WE HAD A BONDING MOMENT I’M FINE
  • keith: *is telling a plan*
    lance: where you lead, i will follow you anywhere
    keith: aw thanks lance that’s so swee–
    lance: THAT YOU TELL ME TO IF YOU NEED YOU NEED ME TO BE WITH YOU I WILL FOLL—
    keith: are you….are you seriously…..
    lance: yep;)
    keith: i love u with all my heart
KAIROS. 1

Originally posted by yoongichii


  • Pairing: Hoseok x Reader
  • Genre: Sugar!Daddy AU, Fake!GF AU
  • Warnings: angst, smut, degrading names, mentions of cheating, dom themes, asshole hoseok
  • Words: 10k
  • Summary: Jung Hoseok is the devil in Armani. Self-entitled, rich, with striking good looks, there’s nothing he wants for with his parents’ money backing up his extravagant lifestyle. Yet when suddenly he’s forced to find himself a humble girlfriend or say goodbye to his monthly paycheck, he runs into you, lacking everything he possibly looks for in a girl. But he’s desperate, and being desperate makes a man do crazy things.

a/n: tysm to my irl bff @garbageeking for beta-ing for me and providing me with endless sugar!daddy hobi inspo to help me finish this chapter!!! ily!


The high chime of yet another eager customer ricocheted off of pale yellow walls, leather booths, and tiled flooring that was worn down with age. The quaint little shop lacked elegance, yet made up for it with charm. Watercolor paintings of sea cliffs, dipping waves, and golden sand hung from every corner of the small cafe, each dated and signed by a unique signature in the far left corner.

“Table three!” Your father’s gruff voice reminded from the back storage room, your attention once again redirected to the easily recognizable and overgrown mop of dusty brown hair, belonging to your best friend, who wore a forlorn frown, looking especially distressed as he sat himself into his regular booth. Red leather squeaked under the weight of his body as he threw himself down onto it, leaning his head against the cool glass of the large window that overlooked the crowded sidewalks and busy streets, a long horizon of blue easily noticeable in the distance.

“You look like you need some pie.”

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inevitable realizations ☼ peter parker

summary : peter’s always been a little bit in love with you, it just took a difficult night and warm, ever comforting words for him to come to the realization. intelligent he may be, but he’s a clueless teenage boy before anything else.

word count : 2.5k

   It was eleven o’clock at night and, as per usual, you were neglecting the sleep you desperately needed in order to finish up the notes on your assigned reading novel that were due in just a few short hours. You were never one to finish tasks, especially menial ones such as homework, in a timely fashion. This was just the tip of the iceberg. You briefly took off your glasses, rubbing your tired eyes that were now struggling to focus on the words in front of you properly. When you slipped them back over your nose, glancing up toward your bedroom window that lead out to the fire escape, you saw the familiar face of your best friend peering in through the glass in a way that was only slightly creepy. 

   Peter knocked rapidly on the glass, waving at you in the typical, hyperactive way that he always had about him. You jumped off your bed, reaching out to shut your bedroom door before walking over to the bay window and unlocking it. A rush of cold winter air nipped at your face the minute it swung open and Peter Parker shoved himself through. Visits from him in this particular manner were common, especially after a day’s work of fighting crime throughout various parts of New York, but not usually this late- and never without a text to alert you first.  

    “You must be freezing,” you shivered, closing the window quickly. “How long were you out there?” Making yourself comfortable on your bed once again, you propped open your book, ready to force him into helping you study. He didn’t answer. Instead, he drew his sweatshirt closer to his body, sliding to the floor beside your bed and leaning his head against the soft duvet. His curls were sticking up in every direction when he pulled his hood away, his cheeks and the tip of his nose a brilliant shade of red, but not from the bitter chill that was sweeping mercilessly over Queens. 

   You heard a distinct sniff, then another, then another. His breathing, already shallow from the frantic climbing he had done to reach your fire escape, became even more labored. He pulled his knees to his chest to hide his face. He felt you press yourself against him, your arms around his shoulders and across his chest before he could pull away in embarrassment. Your glasses creaked when they pushed too far into his shoulder. Neither of you moved. You clung to him and he sat there, silently shaking and leaning into your embrace as if it were the only thing keeping him from falling apart. 

   “Hey, hey, shh, shh, Peter, you’re okay,” you whispered, rubbing his back. “I’ve got you, I promise. You’ve gotta breathe, though, okay?” He was always ashamed of his sensitivity, but he couldn’t help it. He was a sensitive boy and he cried easily and had an awful lot of anxiety sometimes. Today was one of those days, with good reason. He nodded stiffly, maneuvering himself to hug you back, face pressed into your shoulder this time. 

   “It’s… the anniversary,” he said, his voice broken. “One year.” Hollow. “One year since- since Ben. One year tomorrow.” 

   He pulled away, wiping his nose on the sleeve of his oversized sweatshirt. There were traces of tears still making their way down his cheeks, sliding across his nose and down to his lips. He tried to rub them away, too, but you caught his wrist in your hand. 

   “You’re not wrong or less of a dude for crying, Peter.” The way you looked at him, so lovely and caring and worried, made his heart cry out for the safety of your embrace again. “Were you at the cemetery?” You matched his stance and rested the side of your cheek on your knee, still carefully studying his face. 

   “Yeah,” he exhaled, placing his chin in his palm. “I’m gonna go again in the morning with May. Gonna miss school. I- I probably should’ve, um, stayed with her tonight but I…” he trailed off, “I needed you.” He said it as he said most things to you, with his soft tone of voice and his hesitance that made him, him. He never really noticed until now. 

   “What are best friends for, right?”  

    “Yeah. Best friends.” 

    Ignoring the odd way those two words slipped out of his mouth, you said, “I’m sorry, Peter. I know you loved Uncle Ben so much. I’m sorry, you don’t deserve this. You and May don’t deserve this.” You reached out to him, your hand gripping his without an ounce of doubt. You had small hands and he didn’t but he felt a thousand times better when yours found his. “I’m always here for you. Do you wanna talk about it?” 

   Surprisingly, he shook his head adamantly. “No, no.” He squeezed your hand. “I kind of, um, just wanna go to bed. Crying like a little baby really tires a guy out, you know?” He gave a weak laugh, a tiny grin, and you smiled right back at him before pulling him to his feet. “Can I use the bathroom?” He needed to wash the sticky feeling of dry tears off his face, rub the sadness out of his eyes. He wanted to be strong for May when he got back in the morning. 

   “Of course, just be quiet. Mom and dad are asleep.” You padded across your rug and opened your door a crack, holding it in a specific way so that it wouldn’t creak when you let Peter through. He gave you a grateful squeeze of the hand again before disappearing into the bathroom. 

    He splashed water on his face, staring up at his reflection, at the water dripping off his eyelashes and the curling ends of the hair that was plastered to his forehead. He rubbed at his face and took a deep breath. He wasn’t going to cry anymore. You had sufficiently comforted him for the night. Peter could breathe again. 

   Peter quietly walked back down the hallway and into your bedroom, watching for a second as you pulled spare blankets down from a shelf in your closet and arranged them on your bay window. You had cleared your bed of your school supplies and had left the covers open for Peter to crawl into without a second though. Which he did. Your covers smelled quite lovely, actually. It was the scent of your perfume that you wore often enough for him to recognize the scent, and he wanted to fall asleep under the inviting covers that were laid out for him. Then, he saw you sit atop your window, about to lie down. 

   “Wait, why are you doing that?” He got out of bed and took your hand for the third time that night, growing accustomed to the feeling of it. He pulled you over to your bed. “You’re not sleeping on a stupid window. That’s ridiculous. I’ll take the window.” He spun you around and ignored the protestant noise you made, gripping your shoulders and sitting you down on the bed. 

   “I’m not letting you take the window, either!” You argued, yanking him back down on the bed. He huffed, glaring at you in a teasing manner. “C’mon, just take the bed. You need it more than I do.” His glare dropped to his lap, an idea rolling around in his head. “What?” 

   “Y/N, how about we just both take the bed?” He said finally, lifting his eyes back to yours. He wasn’t sure what made him say it, why he didn’t just take the floor like he probably should have, but the words were out there in the world and there wasn’t a way to take them back now. You bit your lip, then shrugged, scooting over. 

   “It is big enough for the two of us.” You turned away from him, turning off your lamp and getting under the covers. You heard Peter slide in next to you, but your back was toward him until he poked you sharply. “What’s wrong, Peter?” 

   “Can you- um, well-” 

   You flipped over on your side, just barely making out his face in the darkness of your room. “Do you want me to cuddle you?” Though you said in a teasing sort of tone, you were silently quite pleased when he mumbled a reluctant yes. You moved closer, one arm going around his waist and the other underneath him. Your head was on his chest, listening to the resilient beating of his heart. He placed his chin atop your head. He focused on the sound of your steady breaths until you were sleeping peacefully beside him. 

    He was so grateful for you- the person who stood by his side throughout anything and everything. You, so strong and beautiful and brave and comforting in his times of distress. You, who never seemed to waver in your loyalty to him. You, the very picture of loveliness and a girl who he’d very much like to- 

   His eyes flew open, and he almost jumped away from you. He didn’t want to risk you awakening, though, so he stayed put, freaking out internally rather than externally the way he was prone to doing. He had been thinking of kissing you. That was what he was going to say. Kiss. The thought had come so simply to his brain it was like he already thought the same thing for years. Maybe he had. It wasn’t like he was blind. You were a stunning girl, even if you didn’t think so yourself, you were his best friend, you were practically perfect and Peter would be an idiot to not adore you the way that he did. 

   Adore, adore, adore. Oh, boy. Peter glanced down at you, sleeping in his arms, and confirmed what he had so stupidly never noticed before. His infinitesimal, brief affection for Liz Allen had absolutely nothing on his all encompassing love for you. 


   Peter bid you goodbye that morning at six thirty sharp, before either of your parents had woken up for work. Before he slipped out your window and into the cracks early morning sunlight, he had pressed a gentle, chaste kiss to your cheek. It was only the briefest touch of his lips to your face, but you had held your face, right in that spot, for practically the entire day. Ned had questioned why, but you brushed him off with an answer of exhaustion. 

   The day after that, Peter returned to school, dragging Ned off to the side as soon as he stepped off the train platform. He had waited for the other boy purposely, seeking advice. 

   “I have a huge, gigantic, terrible awful problem right now, Ned!” He exclaimed as soon as he saw him, throwing his hands up in the air. “I need help.” 

   “Psychiatric help,” Michelle supplied, appearing out of nowhere as she usually did before walking down the path to school. 

   Ned shrugged. “She’s not wrong.” 

   Peter, frantic, seized Ned’s shoulders and shook him. “This is not a roast Peter session! This a cry for help! Help me, Ned Leeds!” 

   “Am I your only hope?” Peter wanted to scream. 

   “This isn’t the time for Star Wars puns, either!” Not waiting for Ned to quip back that every time was Star Wars time, Peter said, loudly, “I’m in love with Y/N and I don’t know what to do!” He ran his hands in his hair, wanting to pull it out. “I just- I just realized the other night! Everything just kind of, like, clicked and I’ve been so stupid. I should’ve realized it before, but of course I didn’t and now I have no idea what to do!” 

   “Wait, dude, you seriously have never noticed this before? Are you kidding me? Peter, you’re supposed to be the genius of the school. I feel let down.” Ned shook his head solemnly. “Dude, everyone knows you love her. Even Flash. That’s why he picks on her all the time. He likes pissing you off and nothing gets under your skin more than someone messing with Y/N. She’s the first one you told about being Spider-Man, you go to her for all your problems, you practically pee yourself racing to be her partner for almost everything- not science because science is our subject, but still. I figured you knew you loved her and just didn’t wanna talk about it because she’s out of your league.” 

   “Hey! I am not-” He stopped. “So what if I am? That’s not even the point. The point is that I love her. Me realizing it was inevitable, even if it took me like eighty years to get there. Doesn’t matter. I’ve gotta tell her, right?”

   “You totally should,” Ned encouraged. “She’s definitely in love with you, too.” 

    Hopefully, Peter grinned. “You really think so?” 

    “Anything’s possible!” 

    “The reassurance you give me is suffocating, Ned. Stop before I die.” 

    That day in gym class, Ned and Peter went off to the side to pretend they were doing stretches while you sat with Michelle and conversed about literature for the first half of the period. Your conversation, however, soon led off into other directions. 

    “Hey, MJ, have you ever… I don’t know, been in love?” 

    Michelle raised her eyebrows. “Only with crushing the patriarchy. Why? Have you?” The intuitive girl already knew your answer, of course, but she was invested in you and Peter’s love story and was desperate to hear the truth from your own lips. 

   You played with the hem of your shirt, thinking. Peter and Ned casually inched closer, having been listening to the conversation for quite sometime now. They were unapologetically nosy. “I think I am.” 

   “With who?” Peter clasped his hands together, silently pleading with the universe to grant him this one wish. I promise, universe, I’ll never ask for anything ever again in my whole life if you just let this girl love me back I swear I’ll be the best Spider-Man there ever was and I’ll protect New York until I’m eighty five just please oh my god please- 

   “With Peter.” 

   The gasp he let out was involuntary, but you didn’t hear him. He turned to Ned, his expression of shock, as well as elation, mirroring Peter’s own. Suddenly, Ned stood, shouting for the entire gym class to hear, “Y/N! Peter loves you too!” You looked up, Michelle’s happy and knowing smirk going unnoticed by you because the only thing you could focus on was Peter and what Ned had just declared. 

   The gym fell silent, every student turning to stare at you and Peter. You were frozen in shock up until the bell rang and everyone filed out quickly, leaving you and Peter alone. 

   “Did he mean it?” You asked, your sneakers squeaking against the floor as you closed the distance between you and Peter, your head tilted to meet his. 

   “It’s the truest thing anyone has ever said.” His lips met yours, and the slant of his mouth against your own was a feeling you could definitely come to adore more than you already did after just one kiss. 

Anything For You

Me? A sucker for the wedding trope.
Hope you guys like this one though <3

Title: Anything For You
Pairing: Peter Parker x reader
Summary: Peter is your date to a wedding and all your relatives love him. Just one issue: you’re not actually dating.
Word Count: 1,640
Warnings: None
Tagged: @tmrhollandkay @kindnesswins @melconnor2007 @mcheung0314

Your name: submit What is this?

           "Y/N,“ Peter coughs as you tighten his tie. "Chill.”

           "Sorry,“ you say quickly, loosening the knot just a bit.

           He gives you a good-natured smile, adjusting the collar of his shirt a bit. Staring in the mirror, Peter fixes up a few other aspects of his appearance as you watch.

           "Thanks for being my date to this thing,” you tell him. You’ve already expressed your appreciation to him multiple times, but you still felt the obligation to say it.

           Peter’s adjusting a few strands of his hair as you speak. He looks at you in the reflection of the mirror and gives you a reassuring smile.

           "It’s no problem,“ he insists, shoving his hands in his pocket. "Anything for my best friend. Besides, I couldn’t let you suffer through the ceremony alone.”

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Foul Play (M)

Originally posted by minspink

Summary: Everyone loves a good rivalry, and the students at your university are no exception. Unluckily for you, the rivalry of the decade is between yourself and a furiously irritating Park Jimin. A top gymnast and a basketball star shouldn’t cross paths, but Jimin makes his way into your heart before you can put a stop to it.
Word Count: 24.314
Genre: college au, basketball player Jimin, sports university
A/N: A while ago @workofteaguk was doubting my lane while simultaneously having a crisis over Jimin. So naturally, retaliation was in order. This is all @minsvga‘s fault for encouraging me to run with this idea.

Elitism brings out the worst in people. Feelings of superiority run unchecked where talent and hard work meet to flourish and thrive, where young athletes spend their days training their bodies to the limits, pushing themselves harder to reach the ultimate dream: to receive validation and know that the years they’ve spent sacrificing sleep and jobs and romance for medals, winning seasons, and future professions has been worth it.

And as any good athlete knows, elitism leads to rivalry. Rivalries between teammates, between neighboring schools, or, most notably, a rivalry between Seoul Sports University’s top gymnast and one of the best point guards to grace the basketball court. And when rivalry and hatred reach such a level, it attracts attention from outsiders, from those who find amusement from such bitter hatred between two young people. Two young people who share common goals and similar training regimes, who for all intents and purposes should be close, but cannot stand the sight of one another.

This is a feeling that you know intimately.

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I Won’t Say it // Finn Wolfhard Imagine

So I was listening to some Disney songs today and one of the songs that played was “I Won’t Say I’m In Love” from the Hercules soundtrack. While listening to the song my mind kind of just clicked like “I should write an imagine for this.” So here I am. Happy 600+ followers to me, here’s a gift from me to you. 

Summary: Y/N refuses to admit that she has feelings for her friend, Finn.

Warnings: Cursing, as usual lmao

Characters: You, Sophia, Jack, Wyatt, and of course Finn.


Jaeden, Finn, Jeremy, and Chosen were sleeping in their rooms while you, Sophia, Jack, and Wyatt sat on the living of the hotel penthouse that the eight of you were currently staying. The seven of you just came back from a two hour press conference and you were all completely exhausted. Thankfully, they gave you all the rest of the day to relax. 

You four were watching Hercules on the T.V. It took all of you almost an hour to pick a movie. You were all arguing which Disney movie watch, the boys wanted to watch Big Hero 6 while you and Sophia wanted to watch Hercules. The boys gave in half way and decided to let you two have your way.

“I’ll be right back, I’m going to get more popcorn.” Wyatt said as he stood up and stretched his legs, “Fill me in afterwards.”

“Mhm, okay go.” You replied without taking your eyes off the screen. 

A few minutes later, Wyatt returns to the living room with a big bowl of popcorn and a bottle of water for himself.

“Okay fill me in, what happened?” Wyatt said as he shoved a handful of popcorn into his mouth.

“Megara’s about to sing I Won’t Say I’m In Love.” Jack replied while also grabbing a handful and shoving it inside his mouth.

“Ah alright thanks.” Wyatt said as he sat beside you. 

“Speaking of saying that they’re not in love, Y/N, have you told him yet?” Sophia looked at you while teasingly wiggling her eyebrows.

“What? Tell who what?” You give Sophia a look of confusion, you had absolutely no idea what she was talking about.

“Yea Sophia, tell who what?” Jack said curiously, now paying attention to Sophia and not the movie on the T.V screen.

Wyatt raises one of his eyebrows and looked at Sophia, “What are we talking about?” 

“Oh you know! Y/N has a little crush on Finn.” Sophia winked teasingly which caused you to roll your eyes.

“I never said that! When did I say that?” You said as you tried to recall the day you mentioned liking Finn. You couldn’t recall anything though because you never in your life said that particular line.

“OH SHIT REALLY? YOU LIKE FI-” You quickly put your hand on Jack’s mouth to cut him off. Jack tried to say something, but his sentences were all muffled and incoherent. Jack didn’t like this one bit so he licked your hand which caused you to quickly take your hand away from his mouth.

“What the hell, Jack! That was gross.” You looked at him in utter disgust as you wiped your hand on his shirt earning a laugh from Wyatt and Sophia.

“That’s what you get.” Jack laughed as you continued to wipe your hand on his shirt. 

“Anyway,” Sophia let out her last giggle before continuing, “You didn’t have to say it, actions speak louder than words you know?” 

“It all makes sense now, you were like staring at Finn the other day. Not in a creepy way though, it was like you admire him or something. You were the living embodiment of the heart eyes emoji.” Jack said with a wink causing Wyatt to laugh a bit. 

“You are so annoying.” You grabbed a pillow and threw it at Jack, hitting him in the face. “Look, I don’t like Finn okay? He’s… He’s annoying like you and… um…”

“You’re struggling.” Wyatt said as he opened his water bottle. He stared at you as you struggled to come up with reasons why you didn’t like Finn. He found it amusing how you tried so hard to hide the fact that you had feelings for his friend. 

“I am not! I don’t work well under pressure okay?” You huffed and crossed your arms, earning yet another laugh from Sophia and Wyatt. “As I was saying, Finn is annoying and… and loud! He is so loud! And he’s playful! And annoying!”

“You already said that though.” Sophia pointed out while chuckling.

“I hate you guys.” 

“You love us.” Jack said earning a nod of agreement from Sophia and Wyatt. 

No chance! No way! I won’t say I’m in love! 

It’s too cliche I won’t say I’m in love.

“Look at you, you’re like Megara.” Sophia joked as she watched Megara sing. 

“You know Y/N, you should just admit it. Why are you hiding it anyway?” Jack said while turning towards you. Whenever Jack does this, he means that he’s being serious. 

You friends have shipped you and Finn ever since you all started filming IT. They all thought you and Finn have some sort of connection, like you two have known each other for a while, like you were meant to be with each other sort of. They think you and Finn really blend well together. You didn’t know this of course and neither did Finn.

“Exactly, I’m pretty sure he likes you too.” Wyatt said matter of factly. As soon as Wyatt said that, you immediately turned red. 

“Aw she’s blushing.” 

“Shut up, Soph.” You say as you threw a piece of popcorn at her, causing her to giggle. 

“You didn’t answer my question. Why are you hiding the fact that you don’t romantically like Finn?” Jack placed his hand on his palm and waited for your answer. 

“The fans are probably going to come after me a-and besides… Finn doesn’t like me like that you know? He probably likes Millie or something, I don’t know.” You replied as you nervously scratched the back of your head.

“Welp thank you for confirming that you like Finn.” Jack said slyly, he just manipulated you to admit that you like Finn. 

“You little shit!” You exclaimed while throwing another pillow at Jack, so maybe you do have feelings for Finn, so what? It wasn’t a big deal. You didn’t know why your three friends are making a big deal out of it.

“Just tell Finn that you like him.” 

“Tell Finn what?” Finn said suddenly as he entered the living room. He stretched his arms and plopped himself between you and Wyatt. Your eyes grew wide as you freaked out on the inside. Your facial expression was priceless, you looked like a deer caught in the headlights.

“HOLY SHIT LOOK AT YOUR FACE, THAT’S PRICELESS.” Jack yelled out while laughing his ass off. Wyatt and Sophia were also dying of laughter. 

“What the hell is going on?” Finn said in confusion as he turned to you in hopes of understanding what was currently happening. 

“I’m going to sleep, goodnight.” 

“It’s like four p.m. though?” Finn scrunched up his face in confusion as he watched you stand up from your seat.

“I said goodnight.” 

You then ran to your room, shut the door, and belly flopped onto your bed. ‘That’s it. It’s all going down hill from here. Jack’s most likely blabbering his heart out about how much I like Finn. I’m so done for. I’m never going to hear the end of this.’ You thought you yourself as you buried your face onto your pillow trying to drown out the loud conversation coming from the living room. 

Later that day:

You woke up from your rather long nap. You lazily got out of bed and checked the time in your phone. 11:35 p.m.

“Holy shit I was asleep for that long?” You said with a yawn. You then got out of your room, totally forgetting what happened hours ago.

Your stomach was growling so you decided to go head to the kitchen to grab a snack. You entered the kitchen and see Finn eating cereal. You stood at the entrance of the kitchen, suddenly remembering what happened earlier. You mentally slapped yourself and tried to keep yourself together. 

“How was your sleep?” Finn said while eating a spoonful of cereal. He gives you a small smile as he chewed his food. 

“Um…g-good. Sleep is um… good.” You awkwardly say as you tried to reach for the cereal that was inconveniently placed on the top shelf.

“Let me help you with that.” Finn put his bowl of cereal down on the counter and grabbed the cereal from the top shelf effortlessly.

“I hate that I’m short, It’s so annoying. Who placed the cereal so high up anyway?” You grumbled as you poured yourself a bowl of cereal.

“I did, sorry.” Finn lightly chuckled as he ate another spoonful of cereal.

“I bet you did that to mock me.” You joked as you poured milk in your cereal. 

Finn laughed at your response which causes you to laugh too, “Yea, I totally did that to mock you.”

“You’re such an ass, you know that right?” You giggled as you ate your cereal.

“Yeah I know, whoops.” Finn replied causing you to jokingly roll your eyes. “Hey Y/N, can I ask you a question?” 

“You’re already asking me a question, genius.” 

“Don’t sass me.” Finn says with a chuckle. “Anyway… so I heard from Jack that you… you uh… li-like me? Is that true?” 

Your face turned red as soon as Finn finished his question. You looked down at your bunny slippers to avoid Finn’s eye contact. ‘Jack is so dead.’ You thought to yourself.

“I… I um… have a headache, I should rest. Night, Finn.” You lied as you placed your bowl of unfinished cereal on the kitchen counter. You then speed walked back to your room leaving Finn confused. 

You closed the door of your room, you then leaned on it, and slid down to the floor. ‘What the fuck am I supposed to do now? Do I just hide in my room for the rest of the week? Fuck I hate myself. Finn probably thinks I’m weird. I’m going to strangle Jack.’ You thought to yourself as you ran your hands through your hair. Your face felt hot and you felt your stomach twisting. You’ve never been this nervous since you auditioned for IT. 

A few minutes later, you were still sitting down on the floor. You didn’t feel like moving to your bed. You kept replaying what happened a couple of minutes ago. Your hands were clammy and you felt a bead of cold sweat run down your back. ‘I wonder how Finn thinks of me now… What if he thinks I’m weird? Oh shit what if he hates me… Holy shit…’

You heard soft footsteps outside your door. It paused when it reached your door. ‘Please don’t be Finn.’ You thought to yourself as you crossed your fingers. 

Finn sat outside your door with a sticky note on one hand and a pen on the other. He thought you were fast asleep so he figured it was now or never. He took the pen and quickly wrote a note. He then folded it and slipped it in the crack of your door. 

What he didn’t know was that you were still awake and was sitting by your door. You hear a piece of paper slide inside your room. You stared at it for a few seconds, then picked it up, and unfolded it. 

You couldn’t stop smiling. You read the note one more time and then held it close to your heart. As soon as you hear Finn’s bedroom close, you decided to do the same thing: Leave him a note. 

You quickly scribbled down a reply and tiptoed to Finn’s bedroom door where you cautiously slipped it in the crack of his door. 

“Goodnight Finn.” You whispered softly and you then tiptoed back to your room. You placed Finn’s note on your nightstand and then went off to sleep. Finn’s message replayed in your head endlessly. 


Lmfao I was supposed to post this last night. but I fell asleep. Hope you guys like this one xx

Also, I’ll write and post the requested imagines soon so sit tight! <3