what a great home that would be

harrypotterandkate-deactivated2  asked:

Three word prompt? "ask me again" OR prompt based on Into the Blue by Sara Jackson-Holman

I thought this would be our last case.

She doesn’t know why Castle’s words strike her with such a finality, a sharp pang of fear and rejection that she doesn’t understand lancing through her chest, but they resound through her mind long after he’s delivered the blow. She should be relieved - he would be in the Hamptons for an entire summer and Kate would… she’d be with Tom and it’d be great, it is great. 

What if great isn’t enough?

Kate drags a hand through her hair and stares down at the phone grasped in her palm. She’s still stinging from the salt Esposito had thrown in her unexpected wound, her dinner with Tom lost to her wandering mind. He’d driven her home, placed a gentle kiss on her lips and wished her a good night, and she should feel content, happy, not knotted up inside. 

But the idea of Castle leaving has her stomach in tangles and her heart too heavy in her chest and it doesn’t make any sense to miss him so fiercely - to miss him at all - when he’s not even gone, when she doesn’t even like him to begin with. Except…

She does like him. She likes him a lot.

Beckett tugs at the collar of her turtleneck, the material suddenly too tight, constricting her throat, and swipes her thumb across the screen of her phone, brings the device to life and pulls up Castle’s contact information. Maybe… maybe if she just talked to him, smoothed out the awkwardness she had tried and failed to avoid earlier that morning, made him feel less like a nuisance and more like the close friend he had become - maybe that would eradicate the uncomfortable throb resonating through her sternum.

Kate sighs and presses the call button, purses her lips and breathes steadily through her nose while she waits for him to pick up, wondering for the first time if he might actually ignore her call on purpose-

“Detective Beckett, you’re calling rather late this evening,” Castle answers, his greeting infused with its usual charm, but tonight it sounds far more forced than she’s ever heard. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

Her lips part, but for a few horrifying seconds, her words become clogged in her throat, nothing but air escaping her lungs, and she can practically hear Castle’s demeanor change.

“Kate, are you okay? Is there someone there-”

“No, no,” she gets out, finally, her heart slowing into a more comfortable rhythm, soothed by his concern. Ever since the Scott Dunn case, he’s subtly become more protective, still unhappy with her current living arrangement because he wasn’t convinced the current place she was renting was safe enough for her. He wasn’t exactly wrong, but - not the point. Not tonight. “Sorry, I just - Castle, I wanted to apologize for earlier-”

“Apologize?” he echoes in confusion. “For - wait, about the Demming and the beach house thing this morning? Beckett, come on, there’s nothing to-“

“You’re still - my partner, you know?” she informs him, biting her lip when he actually goes silent. Never a good sign for Castle. “Tom and I may be together, but you’re still - there’s no one I’d trust more to have my back.” To be her only backup.

She can hear him release a long breath. “Is this your way of saying you’ll miss me when I’m gone?”

Kate exhales quietly at the teasing tone of his voice, plops down on the edge of her cheap new couch that is far from comfortable, and drops her head back against the top of the sofa. “Well, you will be gone a whole summer.”

“Is that a yes?” he gasps and a huff of laughter escapes her this time. “You know, maybe that long of a break is a bit extreme for-”

“Castle?” she murmurs when he pauses mid sentence, grumbles something under his breath.

“Sorry, Gina’s been relentless these last few days,” he mutters, irritation evident in his voice and tampering down the ridiculous hope that had risen in her chest at his mention of the summer, where that sentence had been headed. “Listen, Kate, do you mind if I take this so I can talk to you in peace and I’ll call you right back?”

Beckett gnaws on her bottom lip, tries not to think too hard about how much she relishes in the sound of her first name in his mouth. 

“You know, it’s getting late. Handle Gina and we’ll pick up this conversation tomorrow,” she compromises softly, brushing her thumb back and forth along the smooth silver of the ring decorating her finger. 

“Okay,” Castle says, something about his agreement gentle, tender, and her heart does a flip in her sternum, stumbles against her ribs when it lands. “I’ll see you in the morning. Sweet dreams, Detective.”

“Until tomorrow,” she replies, cursing herself for it the second the words are out, his words, and withdrawing the phone from her ear before he can respond. 

Until tomorrow. 

Shit, what was she doing? She’d already turned down his offer to the Hamptons, turned him down more times than she can count within the past year, but she just… she doesn’t want to turn him down anymore. And maybe it’s too late, they’ve yet to prove their timing as anything but awful, but maybe there was still time.

But first-

She had to break up with Demming.


They hardly have the chance to talk the next morning, to pick up the conversation that had been put on hold the night before due to his persistent ex-wife and publisher, and it has her itching to solve this case even faster. But her hopes still remain dashed even once the case is put away and their afternoon is cleared of all obligation when Castle is forced to leave early, drop Alexis off at Princeton.

“I’ll be back in time for the surprise party the boys are throwing me,” he tells her on his way out, his eyes a gleaming bright blue, tugging his lips up in the corners as he stares back at her with a puzzled expression. “What?”

Beckett shakes her head. “Nothing, just… looking forward to picking up where we left off.”

Surprise splashes through his gaze and Castle takes a step closer to her in front of the murder board. “Are you sure you’re okay? Because you look like you want me to go so I can hurry up and come back and that is wholly unlike you, Beckett. ”

She rolls her eyes and smacks his arm. “You wish.”

“Oh, you know I do,” he grins, swaying when she shoves his chest with her palm. “I’ll see you.”

“Mhmm,” she nods, watching him walk off towards the elevators, a spring in his step that she wonders if she’s responsible for, that adds a slight spring to the beat of her heart. One that falters and collapses as Demming comes into view, excitement about Asbury and their weekend away still written all over his face. 

She’s not sure what she wants, what she’s doing, but ending things with Tom before she makes a regrettable mistake later, before she can truly hurt him, is one of the few courses of action she’s certain of right now.


Castle is back quicker than she had expected, not long after her final words with Tom Demming have been exchanged, and she gathers her breath again before she joins their team in the break room, snags a bottle of beer for the sake of something to busy her anxious hands with.

She catches his gaze with the hook of hers, the smirk of her mouth and the line about not needing to drink to take him. That definitely ignites some intrigue in his eyes.

“Castle, do you have a second?”

Lanie shoots her an encouraging look, but Kate ignores her best friend’s thrilled expression, ignores the boys and her captain sharing curious gazes, and instead leads Castle out of the room, into the relative privacy of the hallway.

“Alone at last,” he chuckles, smiling back at her as she fiddles with the bottle in her hands, picking at the paper label with her thumb. “What’s on your mind?”

Kate takes a deep breath and he notices, that same intrigue from mere seconds ago back and blooming through his eyes. 

“Look, I know that I’m not the easiest person to get to know, and I don’t always let on what’s on my mind,” she begins, averting her gaze to the wall for a breath of a moment to gather her courage before redirecting it back to him, holding his eyes with everything laid out in hers for the first time since she’s met him. Because just this once, she wants him to see. “But this past year, working with you, I’ve had a really good time.”

“Yeah,” he smiles, his eyes softening into a beautiful shade of blue. “Me too.”

“So - ask me again.”

The smile falls from his face, his brow creasing, but he already has an idea of what she means, she can see it in the bewildered spark that races through his gaze, ripples through his features.

“Ask you again?” he repeats, drifting in closer until they’re barely an inch apart, his torso nearly bumping into the bottle of her beer. “You mean - to the Hamptons? You want me to ask you-”

“Yes,” she murmurs, pinning her bottom lip between her teeth for what has to be the thousandth time in the last twelve hours, her nerves like ravenous butterflies through her insides, ripping her to shreds. 

“But what about Demming and - and the beach house and the weekend-”

“We broke up. Earlier, I… he wasn’t what I was looking for right now,” she confesses, pieces of the bottle’s label floating to the floor like confetti beneath the relentless scratching of her nails. “I wish I hadn’t… Tom is great, but he wasn’t - right.”

Castle’s adam’s apple bobs with the quick swallow that ripples down his throat. “This is why you called last night?”

Kate’s fingers go still when Castle covers one of the hands clutching the bottle, stilling her nervous ministrations. “Yeah. This wasn’t necessarily what I had planned, but it’s - I don’t want to regret not saying yes to something I want.”

“You want… okay,” he breathes, straightening up in front of her and drawing one of her hands free, holding her slender fingers between his, and she’d laugh at him, if she could find the ability to breathe properly past the percussion of her heartbeat nearly drowning out his words. “Come to the Hamptons with me, Kate.”

The ridiculous smile blossoms across her lips, calms the rhythm in her chest, and Kate nods, tugs on the hand tangled with hers until he’s drifting with her out of sight from the window she knows their friends are using to spy on them. She has no intention of doing anything necessarily worth hiding, but then Castle slips his free hand along the edge of her jaw, into her hair with his palm cradling her cheek.

“Was that a yes, Beckett?” he murmurs, his lips twitching with amusement, his eyes dancing with the same vibrant joy she fills fluttering through her chest. 

All she has to do is lean forward in her heels, smudge her lips to his in a kiss that is tentative and new and has frissons of electricity sparking from the moment they touch, twining through her veins and setting her entire body alight. 

“Yeah, Castle,” she whispers into his mouth, smirking against the breath he sucks in. “I’ll go to the Hamptons with you.”

HI! I’m Buster, and I’m not your AVERAGE cat!

I was living the outdoor life, when I was attacked by a vicious beast and ended up at the Howard County Cat Club in Columbia, Maryland. And WOW, this place is sure swanky!

Since life is clearly on an upward swing for me, it’s obvious the next step is a loving home! I’m a great cat, and I give AWESOME hugs! I also really like my feather dancer toy, and would enjoy sharing my life with some cat buddies, or even a friendly dog!

I still like the great outdoors, so a home with some safe outdoor access would be amazing. (Three-story catio, anyone?)

If you’d like to know more, or set u a meeting, just holler up my peeps at 410-730-3679!

And if you can’t adopt me, you know what’s almost as amazing? REBLOGGING ME!

Can’t wait to love ya.


anonymous asked:

I'm guessing since the Horsemen are as independent as they are they show few people their homes without necessity, but what would it be like for their s/o to actually visit the Horsemen's home for the first time? What are all their homes like and can we get a quicl tour scenario? What would it take for them to actually open their homes to the person they care about most? I'd hope such a display of trust wouldnt be lost on their s/o! How do they feel about it... etc. etc. Hope your day is great!


Death: He had actually asked you

There was something in the looks the horseman had been sending you that day that probably should have clued you into the fact that he was thinking. Deeply. ‘But,’ you reason with yourself, ‘When is Death not thinking?’ 

Death’s thoughts had been circling around in his head for more than just a single day, however. He found himself contemplating how trustworthy you’d proven yourself to be. Time and again, your loyalty had moved, humbled and even enthralled the horseman. ‘If not Y/n,’ he speculates silently, ‘Then who?’ And at last, he’d asked. 

“Y/n?” The sound of your name makes your ear twitch and you spin around with an earnest smile, meeting Death’s extraordinary eyes with your own. He notes how his mood rises significantly whenever you look at him without fear, hate or indifference. But complete, and total admiration. Even, dare he hope, adoration. Focusing on the utterly obvious soft spot he has for you, Death continues… 

I’d like to show you something…..” 

All you can think of when he finally allows you to accompany him home is, ‘Wow, someone’s a minimalist.’ 

And it’s true. The eldest horseman’s home is modestly furnished, having only the bare essentials in way of comfort. There’s a four poster bed, built from old, dead wood. The same goes for the odd chair like structure in what you can only  assume is the sitting room. The walls of the house are a very odd, dark grey, resembling stone, but the surface is far colder than the stuff you’re used to. 

At least you can’t complain about the footing though. Throughout Death’s home, you discover that everything you walk upon feels as though you’re treading on the finest carpet in existence. Raising an eyebrow at the horseman, he shoots you a vaguely quizzical look before you ask him, “What is this?” Indicating the floor, Death follows your gaze and hums thoughtfully. 

“Fur,” he states simply. 

You blanch a little, “What?….All of it?” you demand incredulously, sweeping your eyes over the entire expanse of the ‘carpet’ that easily extends to the entirety of Death’s home. The horseman’s responding shrug does little to satiate your curiosity. 

Letting him get away with his incessant need to be cryptic, you place your hands on your hips and appraise the home around you. 

“It’s certainly….cozy,” you tease, earning a soft hum of laughter from Death as he catches your sarcasm. 

“What can I say,” he quips, “I’ll only adorn my home with the things I need.” 

You flash him a wide, devilish smirk. “Is that why you finally brought me here?” However, this time the horseman’s response makes you wipe the smirk off your face. 

“Perhaps,” he murmurs quietly, turning to stalk through the house into the arsenal, leaving you staring at him in wonder. 

War: Eventually, curiosity had overridden your overall uncertainty on the topic.

“War?” you call to the enormous horseman as he strides along behind you, “Where abouts are you from, anyway?” The casualness of the question takes him by surprise and you can almost feel the ground shake when he missteps. With a grunt, he responds, “I thought you knew? The Nephilim did not have a world of our own. So we-” 

“No, that’s not what I meant…” you interrupt, “I meant, where are you living? Now. Specifically. Like, if you were to say ‘my home is…’ where would that be exactly?” The horseman matches your stride so that he can properly give you a look dripping with suspicion. You, in turn, match his glare with a perfectly innocent one of your own. You know how mistrustful War can be. Even more so after the events that led to his false imprisonment. But slowly, you’ve begun to feel that he’s offering you more and more of himself the more you give him good reason to. Even though you’d helped him out exponentially after he came to Earth 100 years after it’s demise, he was still slow to trust.  

After a long moment, he seems to come to the conclusion that you’re worthy of such a trust, so he nods in understanding. 

“You wish to see the place that I call home?” he guesses correctly. Your eyes shine excitedly when he voices the question you’d been longing to ask him. 

“Oh yes! Yes please, War!” you clasp your hands as endearingly as possible and it doesn’t fail to drag a huffy laugh from his chest. 

It’s damn hard for the Red Rider to refuse you when he’d only just admitted to himself, albeit begrudgingly, that you are possibly the greatest friend he has. When you see his home for the first time, you’re struck by just how military it is. 

Well duh,’ you muse, ‘His name is War.’

The home itself boasts a grand entrance hall, trophy room, an entire floor upstairs for the bedroom, an armoury (of course) and an absolutely monstrous training room. You find that he’s laid down rugs of sorts, one in almost every room. They all belonged to both familiar demonic beasts and some you’d never seen before. His trophy room is full of heads, horns and even full sized, magically petrified creatures that War, at some point, had fought and slain. 

You take in the strong stone floors and high, sturdy walls with ardor whilst War watches. At last, you peer up at him with a wide smile on your face. “War, this place is amazing! I can’t believe I’m only just seeing it, did you build it yourself?” The horseman scowls, snorting at the assumption that he might have had help, so you throw him an apologetic look. He eyes you for a moment, his next question giving you pause.

“Do you…really like it?” He sounds so unsure of himself, like he really values your opinion on this matter. It’s enough to floor you. Grinning brightly and reassuringly, you nod enthusiastically. 

“Of course I do, War,” you promise. 

“Good,” he states, losing any trace of doubt that lingered in his voice moments before, “This is your home now as well.” 

Strife: He wouldn’t describe himself as a ‘home bird.’ The horseman would probably most attribute himself to the nomads of Earth. Those who wander and rarely settle, if ever. Yet…

“Surely you have somewhere to go when you’re not on Council business?” you  ask him, head leaning against his shoulder thoughtfully as he sits beside you on your sofa. Strife kicks his legs up and crosses them over one another on the coffee table, earning himself a glare from you. 

“Eh, I got a place,” he states nonchalantly.

Immediately, you perk up. “You do!? Where? Can you take me?” The horseman casts you a sidelong glance with a confused eyebrow raising at your sudden excitability. 

“Sure, I guess?” he says carefully, “Dunno why you wanna go though. Not much to see. I don’t spend a lot of time there-” 

“C’mon c’mon c’mon!” you squeak, ecstatic that he was so willing to show you his home. You leap up from the sofa and grab his hand, struggling to pull him up as he laughs and heaves himself off the cushions. 

You step through a portal and arrive at a place that…..honestly isn’t that overwhelming. 

“W-woah?” you stammer uncertainly, taking in the lush green landscape and half-built house that’s shadowed by thousand foot trees. If you didn’t know him better, you’d swear Strife was building on the Maker’s home world. The horseman shrugs at your reaction, undeterred. 

“I told you it wasn’t anything special.” He scuffed a steel toe at the stone scaffolding that holds up a particularly eye-catching pillar of marble. You’re 48% sure it’s marble. Strife watches you with a bored expression as you step forward and raise a hand to lay it flat against the smooth surface of the pillar. Your head swivels from side to side as you survey the interior of his home. Although only half finished, the foundations are strong, the walls are bright and eye-catching and there’s a very distinctive Strife flare. Perhaps in the way the whole thing’s direction is still so unclear, so unfinished and unwilling to be completed. Not even the house knows what it could be. 

Sadly, you turn to face the horseman and quirk a smile in his direction. His eyes roll but he doesn’t comment on your soft look. “I could help,” you ask timidly after a minute of quiet. Strife scoffs. 

“Oh yeah? Why?” His abrasive response causes you to frown slightly, but you remain otherwise steadfast in your own reply. 

You offer him a casual shrug. “Because I want to? Even you deserve a place to call home Strife,” you finish. The horseman’s eyes flash brightly in surprise for a moment before he chuckles deeply. Slinging an arm across your shoulders, he stands with you and stares up at the husk of a house. 

“Don’t need a place to call home when I’ve got you,” he flirts, making you grin widely and look away with a hot blush creeping up your cheeks. 

Fury: Like her eldest brother, Fury had been the one to ask if you wanted to see her home. Although, unlike Death, she hadn’t turned the decision over in her mind for days on end. Instead, one day she simply said to you ‘Oh! I’ve yet to show you where I live, Y/n.’ Not five minutes after she’d offered, you were strolling up to her front door. 

Of course her home is the most intricate place you’ve ever seen. You really oughtn’t have been so surprised at the sheer magnificence of it. Letting out a low whistle, “This place rivals the White City!” you nod decisively,  recalling the times when Azrael had kindly indulged you in your love of exploration. He’d been more than happy to give you a tour of his own home. 

The horseman claps you amiably on the back with a light laugh. “I should hope so,” she smiles, “I am glad you like it, Y/n.” She watches you with an all too fond grin as you skip through the enormous pearl coloured archway that leads directly into a lobby, framed by the most intricate Imperial staircase you’ve ever seen. She graciously shows you her home on a room to room basis. You see something akin to a kitchen, with a large open fireplace and ebony surfaces that decorate the back wall. She shows you her personal library, making you nearly faint in response. It almost makes up for half of her house, books lining each wall and stretching up to the ceiling high above you. Next, she shows you upstairs, where, curiously, you notice she’s installed devices that closely resemble those that might be found in a human bathroom.  

Quickly, Fury ushers you on, ignoring the questioning look you throw her way. 

“And this,” she declares, sweeping a wide arc with her hand at the final chamber, “will be our bedroom.” Fury turns to you and smiles down kindly, “What do you think?” 

Instead of answering straight away, you venture further into the room and marvel at the interior. There’s a wondrous, silken sheeted, queen sized bed laden with deep, wine red pillows. Velvety, purple curtains billow gently in the breeze, let in through a curved archway that leads out onto a wide balcony. Candles flicker, even now on every surface, creating a pleasant, warm light that makes you feel indescribably peaceful. 

“Your home is beautiful, Fury..” you breathe, finally turning to face her. The horseman’s face twists wryly when she realises you didn’t catch her earlier hint. With a flamboyant wave of her hand, she gestures around the room. 

Our home, Y/n,” the horseman corrects you gently, revelling in the way your eyes light up in realisation and elation. Suddenly, the bathroom makes sense.


But apart from my transformations, I was happier than I had ever been in my life. For the first time ever, I had friends, three great friends. Sirius Black, Peter Pettigrew and, of course, your father, Harry, James Potter. Now, my three friends could hardly fail to notice that I disappeared once a month. I made up all sorts of stories. I told them my mother was ill, and that I had to go home to see her, I was terrified they would desert me the moment they found out what I was. But of course, they, like you, Hermione, worked out the truth. And they didn’t desert me at all. Instead they did something for me that would make my transformations not only bearable, but the best times of my life. They became Animagi.

things that actually happened in my high school

1. in the middle of am homeroom (so like 9am in the morning) a kid just broke out a pint of ice cream and started eating it. and i guess it wouldnt have been that bad except once people noticed, everyone started whispering and pointing until half the class was surrounding the table literally BEGGING for some. the teacher actually had to stop reading the morning announcements and give a speech on how you shouldn’t give death threats over ice cream.

2. this kid i was sitting next to once went home bc he got a massive headache after staring straight into a lightbulb for 2 minutes bc he “was bored and wanted to see what would happen.” he ended up taking 3 advils after that, got paranoid and made the entire table search “how many pills of advil does it take to overdose” on a school computer.

3.  there was a HUGE ASS fly in the room and the teacher thought itd be a great idea to kill it by throwing a folder 4inches thick with papers in its general direction; it ended up going across the room and hitting a poor, innocent kid in the face so hard that the other kids at the table scrammed and started yelling “EVERY MAN FOR HIMSELF”…and when i tell you that this fly was huge,,it was literally so MASSIVE that this one girl almost started crying when it flew near her, someone actually tried throwing a cup of coffee at it, and another person started screaming ZIKA VIRUSSSS and something about how they weren’t vaccinated. and mind you the majority of the students are dressed in fancy attire bc of the national honor society ceremony that was later in the afternoon. in the midst of all this chaos, this one kid stands up, doesnt say anything and literally just ninja slams his bare hand onto the table and kills the fly all in one fluid motion, all without saying a single word. the entire class just broke out in thunderous applause, including the teacher, and then class continued as normal as if the past 10 minutes didn’t even happen

4. during first period a teacher who lost a ton of weight over a 2 year period was giving serious advice about the importance of living a healthy lifestyle while this kid right in front of the teacher’s desk breaks out a FULL mcdonalds breakfast meal and distributes it among the table

5. kids that were in apush and ap spanish held a joint prayer vigil the day before ap exams began, so that ap students could literally hold hands and pray to survive exam season as well as mourn our high grades. everyone who went was required to bring in fake candles and food, while someone else conducted a prayer service. a special invitation was sent using our school emails, you had to rsvp in order to attend, and it was suggested that you wear black. our ap teachers knew about this, and they agreed it was a good idea somehow

I just finished watching Trollhunters on Netflix and I strongly suggest you all check it out, for a number of reasons:

  • Interesting character development for both protagonists and antagonists.
  • Fantastic fight scenes.
  • DreamWorks once again gives us an accurate portrayal of the struggles of single parenting (lookin’ at you HTTYD).
  • So many lovable bromances.
  • A Home Alone-esque booby trap scene that delivers. 
  • Great animation.
  • The mythical universe has interesting lore and a surprisingly small number of plot-holes. 
  • Lots of comedy.
  • Seriously, no one is allowed to say the word “crispy” around me ever again.
  • Ever wonder what it would be like if the hero and villain didn’t hide from one another behind secret identities and had to interact with one another for everyday activities? It’s a fantastic dynamic..
  • Tacos. 
please help a disabled trans boy

hello!! im an autistic, mentally ill, and physically disabled trans boy and i recently ran away from home and im without a phone and money. im looking for a job right now but i really need a phone. if its possible for you to get me whats on my wishlist that would be great but i understand if you cant! i please ask that you reblog if you can tho! thank you for reading!!


anonymous asked:

What do you think about a room in a room? Do you think it's practical or a waste of space? I saw a picture of a small minimalistic circular library in the middle of a square room and it looked cool but idk how practical that would be for a household (in the pic it looked like it was in a home)

I cannot make a blanket statement whether a room within a room is practical or impractical. In the hands of a good designer the room inside a room strategy can have great results, like in these examples:

Arabic and Persian Manuscripts Room Beyazıt State Library Tabanlioglu Architects

Keep reading

Hands To Myself

Roughly inspired by Hand to Myself by Selena Gomez. 
Just a side note that I really can’t write smut, I feel incredibly weird so I do apologize for the cliff hanger ;)

Can’t keep my hands to myself
No matter how hard I’m trying to
I want you all to myself
You’re metaphorical gin and juice

I mean I could but why would I want to?

It was convenient that Tom and [Y/N] lived right across the street from one another. It meant that they could just walk over and not have to worry about the awful London traffic. Or even that if they drank a little too much, their home was just a few feet over. It was great. What wasn’t convenient was that Tom and his best mate, Harrison, always, like clockwork played basketball every morning. And [Y/N] had the front row seats with her window facing the cul-de-sac they played on. 

[Y/N] had never been a sexual person. She just kept her hands in her lap and behaved like a good girl but ever since she had starting dating Tom, it was getting a lot harder to maintain the proper ladylike persona her parents had raised her to have. It seemed that even the simplest movements Tom would make would send her senses into overdrive and force her to have the mind of horny thirteen year old boy. And [Y/N] could bet money that Tom had no idea what he was doing to her, he was always such a gentlemen when it came to her personal space. Of course they would cuddle and have make-out sessions but he was always aware of where his hands would be. And [Y/N] loved that for the most part, she was adoring that Tom wasn’t acting out on his hormones and was being respectful of her body because her body wasn’t a piece of property that he could invite himself into whenever he pleased. But, there were days where she wished he would just use all his pent up sexual urges and show her what she did to him. 

And it didn’t help that this morning, Tom was shirtless. The sun was kissing his body and causing every curve and dip of his muscles glisten from the sweat that was covering his upper body. It was a taunt and it was driving her insane. She stood by the window, watching Harrison and Tom play for a few more minutes before she decided that she needed to do something to get the idea of what laid beyond the shorts that were covering the rest of him out of her head. 

Splashing cold water on her face, she looked in the mirror and noticed a small purple mark poking out from her shirt. Wincing, she pulled the collar down to inspect it a little more. She would admit the night before was one of their more friskier nights, Tom had never left a hickey before. It left her flustered and she could bet that seeing Tom this morning made the feelings come back twice as hard. Blowing air out of her mouth, she dug around in her drawer to find some concealer. Even though she was twenty, her parents would freak the hell out that she was engaging in any kind of physical contact with her boyfriend. If she didn’t still live at home, she would have shrugged and went on about her day. 

Dabbing some on until she felt that it was hidden enough, she closed her eyes when she heard the victory yells from Tom. Gripping the counter, she looked at herself. She could feel herself getting hot at the thought of what more could have happened the night before if her parents hadn’t came home so early. Swallowing hard, she told herself to get a grip. 

Walking towards her closet, she threw on some running shorts and a matching sports bra. Reaching around her jacket, she zipped it up halfway. [Y/N] needed to run off her hormones, put something else in her head. Walking into the kitchen to grab a protein bar, she noticed a note from her parents. 

Went shopping at the mall and then going to see a film. After that we’ll be going grocery shopping. Be home right before 6. Send a text if Tom and Harrison will be joining for dinner so I’ll be prepared. xx mom

Plucking the note from the fridge, she laid it on the counter and sent her mother a text saying that most likely Tom and Harrison will be coming over. Four out of the seven days, they normally did. Grabbing a sip of her water, she headed out the door. 

“[Y/N]! Come play with us, Haz needs all the help he can get.” Tom chuckled. 

Walking over towards the two boys who were dripping with sweat, she placed a peck on Tom’s cheek and patted Harrison’s shoulder. “Love to, but I’m going to go run a few miles.” 

“Ew,” Harrison groaned. 

“Ew, yourself.” [Y/N] responded, sticking out her tongue. She turned towards Tom in time to find him rake his eyes over her attire. Biting her lip, she tried to ignore his lingering gaze over her exposed torso. 

“I agree with Harrison, why are you running?” Tom asked, “You could get in your daily exercise right here with me.” He motioned towards the basketball hoop.

[Y/N] really wanted to respond with something inappropriate but decided against it. It was only going to make her situation worse. “I’ll pass, but maybe next time. I’ll see you in an hour.” 

“An hour?! How many fucking miles you plan on running, [Y/N]” Harrison sputtered. 

Shrugging, she started to jog backwards, “However many I can run in an hour, Haz.” Shaking her head, she smiled and blew kisses towards them and turned to face forward and headed off. 

[Y/N] had needed a lot more than an hour to get her mind off of her sexual thoughts about Tom. She had ran for thirty minutes before she slowed to a walk to give her burning legs a rest and in that time, she had made up five million fantasies. All of them ranging from innocent fluffy to extremely fifty shades. After walking for another thirty, she decided to run back to the house. Figuring that Harrison had probably either gone home or knowing that Tom would be spending time with her and went inside to hang out with Sam and Harry. 

Slowing down her pace when she spotted Tom sitting on her porch in the comfy bench her mother had insisted on spending four hundred dollars on. She smiled as she hopped up the steps, “Hey you.” 

Looking up from his phone, Tom smiled back. “Hey yourself. I thought you said you were going to run for an hour? How many miles did you clear?”

Shrugging, [Y/N] unzipped her jacket all the way, fanning herself with her hand. She hated to feel so hot that the only thing she wanted was to peel off her own skin. “I don’t know maybe five or six? I wasn’t tracking it but I reached the fountain and came back.” 

Tom whistled, “Look at you speedy.” He chuckled and got up from the bench to hug her. 

“No, I’m gross.” She whined. 

Pressing a kiss to her forehead, he shook his head. “No, never. Impossible.” 

Trying to ignore the skin to skin contact, she pushed him away and rolled her eyes. Reaching into her hidden pocket for the spare key to her house, she unlocked the front door and walked in. “Did Haz go home or is he with the twins?” 

“The twins,” he responded, following her in. 

“So, he’ll be over for dinner too? I was supposed to tell my mom for sure.” 

Tom shrugged, “I dunno. I’ll ask him,” texting Harrison, he slid his phone back into his shorts pockets. 

Chugging some water to cool down, she tossed him a gatorade. “You going to eat dinner with my parents with just that on?” [Y/N] teased. 

Leaning against the counter, he crossed his arms, the well-defined muscles flexing and tightening made [Y/N] lick her lips. “Are you going to wear that to dinner with your parents?” He squinted his eyes, pushing off the counter, he walked towards her in just four steps. His thumb rubbed against the spot on her neck where she had covered with concealer. “Bloody Hell, your father is going to kill me.” He muttered. 


Tapping your neck, he chuckled. “I’ve given you a hickey. I guess the sweat from your run rubbed the makeup off.” 

Chewing on her lip, she shrugged. “I’ll cover it back up when I get dressed. No big deal, they will never know.” 

“Good because that is not a conversation I want to have with your father.” He shuddered at the thought of being confronted by one of the seriously intimidating men he had ever come to meet. Tom reminisced to the time where he had first met her father, he was ready to piss himself. 

[Y/N] shook her head and laughed, knowing exactly what he was thinking about. She could have keeled over and died from laughing so hard at her father and Tom’s first encounter. She had to reassure Tom that her father really did like him after the first few times and he had even told her that he preferred Tom over her past boyfriends. 

“Hey Tom?”

“Yes, love?”

She fidgeted with the bottom of her jacket, running the zipper up and down causing Tom to look at her with a confused look. “How long have we been dating now?”

Tom tilted his head to the side and did the math in his head. “A little over two years, why?”

“Do you not find me sexually attractive?” 

Tom choked on his spit, completely blind sided by her question. “I’m sorry, what?!”

Avoiding his baffled stare, she sighed. “Am I not sexually appealing? Like, is there a reason why we haven’t had sex?” 

Tom seriously couldn’t believe the words that were coming out of her mouth. He moved in her line of sight, speaking softly, “Hey, look at me.” Waiting until she met him, he smiled softly. “Are you seriously asking me that? If I didn’t find you to be sexy, I wouldn’t have left that hickey on your neck. Of course I find you to be sexy. I find you to be sexy all the time, [Y/N].” 


“Really.” Tom confirmed, shaking his head at how crazy her question was. He chuckled a little before pressing a kiss to the corner of her mouth. “Have I thought about sex with you? Yes. But I, it’s not, I don’t. Sex isn’t just something we do because it feels good, [Y/N]. I want it to be special, meaningful. We’d be sharing ourselves in a more personal way and I might be ready to do that but you might not be.” Cupping her face, he smiled again. “I would never want to pressure you into something because I don’t have to have sex with you to know that I want to be with you. Is it difficult, yes, especially when you wear things like what you have on now.” His eyes trailed down her and then back, “But, I love you for you not for sex or anything else. It would just be an added bonus.” 

[Y/N] couldn’t help but blush at his words. Again, he was always so respectful. “I love you, Holland.” 

“And I love you, [L/N]” He pulled her into a hug, the kind that she melted into. [Y/N] would swear up and down that Tom had different kind of hugs. And the way he was hugging her now was her all time favorite. It made her feel warm and fuzzy inside, almost like she was completely safe and nothing could harm her all while feeling the love radiate from his body. 

Pulling away a little, she took a deep breath. “What if I’m ready now?” 

Tom’s eye sparkled a little as he studied her expression, “Then I’d plan it to be special.” 

“No, like now.” 

Now?” Tom asked in surprise. 

“Yes, like right here, right now.” Wincing and giggling lightly, she shrugged, “Or well in my room, not here in the kitchen, that’d be weird. We eat and cook in here.”

Tom pulled apart from her completely, looking her dead straight in the eyes. “You want to have sex right now? Really? Are you sure, [Y/N].” She could tell he was getting flustered, “What if your parents come home? Or Haz decides to just come over? Don’t you think it’d be more special if I had planned it out to be romantic?”

“I love you, Tom, I really do but when has anything you’ve ever planned romantically gone according to plan?” She raised a brow, waiting for him to answer.

“You have a point….”

She grabbed for his hands, “I think it would be special right now. Don’t think I haven’t notice the looks you’ve been giving me when you think I’m not looking. Isn’t passion what makes it special?” 

“Bloody Hell,” Tom mumbled as he ran a hand over his face. “You’re going to kill me, absolutely kill me.” 

Never Enough Pt.1

Oke. this one turned out way different then i though. Theres like a lot of just reader but a part 2 will be updated with a lot of fluff. i promise.

Warnings!- Anxiety and extreme self hatred and getting robbed.
Laughing was all you could hear.

Usually laughing would be a great thing considering you and all your friends almost got killed the other day. But this laughing tore you apart from the inside. You hesitantly raised your head.

You saw what you wish you had. It was Tina and Newt, Laughing, talking, flirting. Of course you couldn’t say anything, You owed the Goldstein sisters your life.

They took you in when you were abandoned on the streets of New York. Cast out by your father who hated the sight of you. You lived with them for a couple years.

Then, Tina brought home a boy, technically two. Newt Scamander, he was one of the sweetest people youve ever laid your eyes on.

You and him got along quite nicely and talked often, but after everything with Credence and Graves, he became distant.

You dont know what you had done wrong. Having anxiety meant overthinking and thats what you did 24/7.

It didnt come as a surprise when Newt and Tina announced they were dating. How could Newt not fall in love with her. Tina was perfect, she was a brave strong women. She was beautiful and perfect.

All you were was a fragile witch who So sitting across from them was pure torture. You took a quick glance at Queenie who gave you a sympathetic look before turning back to Jacob. You quietly excused yourself and went to the bathroom.

You stared at yourself in the mirror. Tearing down everything about yourself until tears started streaming down your face. A knock at the door broke your from your trance

“uh Y/N are you okay?”
Its newt.
“U-uh yeah im okay” Your voice came out broken and shaky
“I dont think you are Y/N” he said softly
“im fine.” It came out harsher then you wanted but it got him to leave. you calmed down and went to your room.

“Im going out.” you stated plainly
“Out? out where?” Tina asked,
“Just out, i need some fresh air”

You walk out the door with out a look back. mentally cursed yourself for not telling newt your feelings. You wander around New York and settle down at central park.

With your head in your hands you hear some noises but think nothing of it. Until someone came up to you. With a gun. This wasnt how the day was supposed to go.

“Youre quiet pretty little miss so i dont want to hurt you” he snarls out and you cringe away.
“Get. away. from. me.” You growl in response.
“How about no” he grins. He reaches for your purse. You punch him and he gets mad. You fight for a couple minutes until you suddenly feel a fiery pain.

You were shot. He runs away and you reach for your wand. which you forgot. You lay on a park bench waiting for someone to come. You can here distant shouting but you black out before they reach you.


RebelCaptain AU || Top Gun

Jyn- What do you wanna do? Just drop down on the tile and go for it?
Cassian- No, actually I had this counter in mind.
Jyn- Great, that would be very, very comfortable, yeah.
Cassian- It could be.

Requested by @voelks-blog

Studyblr PSA

I know how much everyone romanticizes Ivy League colleges. And don’t get me wrong, they can be great.

But I can honestly say that I am a happier, more successful person now that I am going to a community college. When I was at Penn I was anxious and suicidal. I’m so glad I made the decision to come home. I don’t know what would have happened if I didn’t, but it probably wouldn’t have been good. I now have a steady, great job, I just bought a house, I am in a longterm, loving relationship and I have great grades.

So don’t let anyone else define success for you. Your version of success might be very different from anyone else’s. And that’s okay!


QR Codes of the Day

A little mix with the codes. Something for winter, something for goth, and something for class. Hope you like them.

Jacket With Scarf
Add a paperboy cap and this would look very classy for an upstanding gentleman during winter. Its very stylish but it just needs snow.

Gothic Black Lace
Nothing like lace to bring out the dark side or just the Victorian dark style. Matches any house that is dark or creepy.

I know these have names but I can’t read other languages. These would be great to hang in your home to give it a sense of emotion to what you feel will bring out the room.

Jealous (Jordan Parrish x reader)

Warnings- Smut!!!! A lot of smut!!!

“Hey Stiles, what time is your dad getting home?” You asked as you stepped through the door of the Stilinski household.

“In about an hour or so… I think he and Parrish are going to finish up a few things and then they will be over here.” He replied as he gave you a wink.

You had been best friends with Stiles every since you two were little kids. Nothing romantic ever happened between the both of you, you were just great friends that trusted each other with your lives. Since you were so close you two would tell each other everything, so Stiles was the first to find out about the crush you had for Parrish.

“Oh, shut up Stiles!” You said while laughing and trying not blush as you threw a pillow at Stiles.

“Hey, I’m just trying to help! It’s not like you need it though… Parrish is like head over heels for you!”

“No he is not… You just say that because your my friend.” You argued, secretly hoping he was right.

“And why would you say that? I have proof for my accusation… Do you?”

“Well no… But… Wait a second… Proof?? Tell me more…” You pleaded.

“So, me being a guy I can sort of tell what a guy will do when he likes a girl. A lot of things that Parrish does when he is around you. He blushes, smiles a lot more, he tries to be more manly, he would do anything to protect you, anytime he is around you he always makes sure he is close to you, he talks about you a lot… I could go on, but just from that it’s inevitable that he is totally into you!” Stiles said making you smile and blush like crazy.

“Really? Do you really think so?” You asked.

“Without a doubt…” He smiled.

“So what should I do?”

“Hmm… Parrish seems to be really protective over you… So what if, when they get here, we sort of pretend to be closer than we actually are. We can sit closer and do and say things that a couple would do. Since we are friend it wouldn’t be awkward for us, and it would drive Parrish mad until he finally did something.”

“Would you really do that for me Stiles?” You beamed.

“Oh, absolutely! Plus, I think Lydia is starting to have a crush on him, so if you two are together, I’m all she will have left and then she will come to me!” He said cheerfully, very proud of the idea he had just created.

He then continued,“ So for this to work even better than what I have planned, you need to change.”

“What?” You asked. You had been wearing a pair of Jeans and a cute top, what was wrong with it?

“You need shorts and a tank top, it will be sexier and then Parrish will literally have his eyes glued to you!”

You shrugged your shoulders and went along with it. You had kept a bag at Stiles’ house since you were there so often. You pulled out the shortest pair of Jean shorts that you had and decided to just put on a Cami and out a jacket over it. The decisions making your body look great.

You then walked back out to the living room were Stiles was.

“That is perfect! We will have Parrish drooling by the time he walks through be door!”

You giggled a little bit and then sat on the couch next to Stiles. After a minute Stiles nearly jumped off of the couch saying,“ Wait, I almost forgot!” He then ran to his room.

“Forgot what?” You asked concerned.

He walked back into the room and held his hand out to yours. “This.” You opened your hand to see what he had just given you, you then noticed that he had handed you a condom.

“Stiles! What the hell is this for?” You asked with your eyes wide, not even thinking about this being the result of his plan.

“Oh I think you know!” He said with a wink.

You laughed a little and thought to yourself, I can pull this off… You then sat back down and began to watch a TV show as you waited for Sheriff and Parrish to arrive.

After around 20 minutes you heard two car doors from outside the window and Stiles quickly motioned for you to scoot closer to him. You did so and he put his arm around your shoulder as you snuggled up into his body. You continued watching a show that was on the television. As soon as you heard the door Stiles began to laugh and you followed along. The laughs not dying down until Sheriff Stilinski and Parrish walked into the room.

“Oh hey dad,” said stiles,“ We didn’t even notice you were home. What’s Parrish doing here?”

“Oh, he was just giving me a ride back since we were already working together throughout today.” Replied Sheriff as he turned toward Parrish. “Thanks again by the way!”

“Oh it was no problem!” Said Parrish is the same voice that made your heart melt.

Sheriff then said,“ Well I’m so tired for working at the office today, so I’m going to go grab a shower and then take a nap! Thanks Parrish, feel free to stay as long as you want!”

With that the Sheriff had left the room and it was time to initiate your plan. Parrish sat In a chair across the room from you and Stiles.

“So, anything new happening?” Asked a very nervous Parrish.

“Oh nothing much, we’ve just been hanging out…” You said in a sweet voice as you ran your hand over Stiles chest.

Parrish seemed to tense a bit at the sight. “So about how often are you over here, (y/n)?”

Stiles answered before you could,“ oh she is over her quite often… Nearly all of the time except for the night, but sometimes she’s here for that to…” He smirked at you and then took his free hand that wasn’t around your shoulder and trailed it up your thighs then began to trace patterns on your legs.

Parrish now clenching his fists and his face red with envy.

“So I’m going to go grab a drink anybody want one? It just seems to be getting so hot in here!” You said as you unzipped your jacket and took it off. “Don’t you think?” You asked Parrish with a smile plastered upon your face.

“Oh very! I will take a water please…” He replied.

Stiles then added,“ I will have the same.” As you walked out stiles he leaned out and smacked your ass knowing that it would kill Parrish.

You smirked as you continued walking. You came back with three waters in your hand to hold them you had placed them in your arms, to wear you weren’t using your hands. You walked over to Parrish first and bent over to where he could reach the waters and have a nice view of your cleavage.

“Take one…” You said as he reached out and took a bottle from you.
You then walked over and on your way “tripped” and dropped the other water bottles.

“Oops…” You said as you bent over to grab them giving Parrish an extremely nice view of your ass.

You then walked over handed stiles his water but Parrish had been sent over the edge.

“You know it starting to get late so how about I take you home (y/n)? That way it won’t cost Stiles a trip out…”

You winked at Stiles then turned around and said,“ Oh that would be wonderful! Bye Stiles!” You leaned down to give him a kiss in which he returned. You then followed behind Parrish and you made your way out to his car.

One you had gotten in and began to drive down the road Parrish said,“ What the hell was that?”

You replied sweetly,“ I don’t know what you’re talking about…”

“Oh you know good and damn well what I’m talking about (y/n)! You and Stiles are not together… I know you aren’t!”

You smiled. Then noticed you had missed the turn off for your street and you were going towards his home. “Umm… Where are we going?” You asked him.

You did not get an answer. Instead he turned down the road to his house and you finally pulled into his driveway.

He got out of the car and you followed him now knowing where this was going and you were proud of it.

Parrish unlocked his door and then walked in, you following close behind him. He got in, locked the door, threw is stuff onto a nearby table then walked fiercely back over to you.

As soon as he reached you he put on of his hands behind your neck pulled you in quickly for a kiss. It quickly got heated and passionate. His free hand traveled down your back until it was placed on your ass giving it a firm squeeze.

He broke the kiss for a mere second to say,“ Jump.” You did as you were told jumping up and wrapping your legs around is waist. His large hands now placed on your lower back. Parrish then walked the two of you up to his room.

He opened the door with one arm the other still supporting your body. He walked over and set you down on the bed as he hovered atop of you. You then moved your hands from his neck and down to the hem of his shirt, slightly playing with the fabric between your fingers signaling for him to take it off. He sat up grabbed his shirt and took it off throwing it to the floor. He then leaned back down and planted a single kiss on your lips. He then grabbed your tank top and ripped it off of you.

He moved his mouth to your neck were he began to leave a trail of wet kisses until he reached your bra line. He snaked his arms around your back and unclasped your bra as you threw it to the ground. He went back to work with his mouth now sucking in spots until he was sure he left a mark to show that you were his. He moved one of his hands up and began to massage your breasts. His mouth wandered all over your skin searching to find your sweet spot. He finally landed on it and began to suck hard until you let out a moan.

He smirked then moved down, leaving a trail of kissed until he reached your shorts. He unbuttoned them, pulled down the zipper then slid them down your legs.

He maneuvered his way back up leaving little kisses on your legs on the way. He then moved his head up to wear it was next to your ear and he whispered,“ Is this what you wanted baby girl?” He nibbled on your ear lobe making you moan loudly.

“Mm, that’s what I thought… But just you wait princess…” He said as he made his way back down to your hips. He bit the line of your panties and took them down off of you using his mouth.

He again moved back up and spread you legs apart.. His head inches away from your core.

“Who made you this wet? Huh, baby? Who did this to you?”

All you could do was loan do to how close he was to you. He moved his face even closer and said,“ I asked you a question!” He took his tongue and locked a quick stripe up your slit. “I expect an answer!”

You shivered underneath him and said aloud,“ you! Only you Parrish!”

He gently kissed your folds as you answered and then he said,“ That’s what I like to here! Moan for me baby!” He then pushed his tongue in and began to flick it against your clit rapidly. He then sucked hard making you moan and scream his name. He then moved in of his hands up and without a warning pushed two fingers into you. He pushed them in and out at a rapid pace. Making you shake beneath him. You were almost at your high and Parrish knew… He moaned against your skin and the vibrations sent you over the edge and you came on his hand and in his mouth.

He then licked you clean before taking of his pants and his boxers revealing his long length.

You bit your lip as you watched him stroking himself to reach his maximum length.

You then remembered what Stiles had given you. “Baby, my shorts… Check the pocket.”

He leaned over to pick them up and reached inside the pocket and grabbed out the condom.

You smirked at you. “Wow you really were prepared…”

You nodded. He put the condom on, walked back over and climbed on top of you. He looked up at you asking for permission and you nodded. He then eased his way into your entrance letting you adjust for a minute before he bang to pump in and out of you at a rapid pace. The pain quickly turned into pure pleasure.

Only a minute later you were both close.

“J-Jordan… I’m close…” You moaned out.

“I know baby.. Me too… Just let go”
You did and so did he.
He then rolled over next to you on his bed. He pulled a blanket over you both and then he kissed your forehead.

“I love you (y/n)” he said.

You looked at him, happier than ever! “I love you too!”

I like Snape. This does not mean I excuse bullying or that I’m a abuse apologist. That would make me a hypocrite. I identify with Snape because of what he went through in his home and school life. I’m a bitter and jaded adult because of what I’ve been through. So if people could stop calling everyone who likes this fictional character anyone of those things, that would be great because ya’ll don’t see us calling you wannabe genociders for liking characters like Loki and Darth Vader.


by Saṃsāran  

Some people equate “humble” with “humiliation”. This gives it connotations of weakness. The opposite is true. Only a proud person can be humiliated. The humble person, without false pride, without the great burden of “I am in competition with everyone else” is a powerful person.

Think of Jesus of Nazareth, beaten, in chains, on his knees before Pontious Pilate. Yet, Jesus was unbroken. It was the great teacher Jesus who showed true power that day. Why? Because he was a humble man without pridefulness.

Now, I know that some of you are not convinced by this. Let me give another example a little closer to home. Say you are an artist. You make your art and somebody comes along and says “your art is terrible”. If you are a prideful person this might devastate you because it would shake your sense of who you are. A good artist. 

Now a humble person has no such worries. This person simply realizes that what is simply is. My art is. Because your heart is at peace you take no offense and simply wonder at what was in their heart to say such a thing. 

We become strong. The Buddha saw this. Jesus saw this.

Humility, strength, acceptance. Id est quod est, it is as it is.

This is based on a quote I saw last week and I love it, the quote is at the end.  Thanks to @myuselessknowledge for the idea that fed this. 

It’s a future fic, kind of. Angst but not serious angst and a tiny bit of fluff. Some of this is under the cut.


It creeps up on Liam.   He suspects it’s the same for Zayn. It’s not deliberate, but it happens anyway.

They always knew they’d have to be separated for a while, it wasn’t the first time and it wouldn’t be the last.  In a way it sort of worked, they made it work.  

Till one day, it’s like he’d had his hands on the steering wheel for so long and all it took was one tiny distraction to take his hands away.

Just one night out, where the food was great and the company even better, and what he’d planned to be a swift meal and home by 10pm to hope Zayn would still be wide awake in New York, turned out to be 3am crawling into bed, glancing at his phone to see a whole bunch of missed calls but too tired to do anything about it.

That’s when it started.

It’s eight months later, it’s a freezing cold day in the middle of winter in London.   In LA, it’s sunny and warm, Liam just checked.  

It’s become sort of necessary to have that piece of information lately.  Some way to get the conversation flowing, though flowing?  That’s overegging the pudding so much.

He’s about to unlock his phone and hit speed dial or maybe in a few minutes he will when the phone starts ringing.

His heart sinks.  He’s not ready, he’s never ready lately, but from somewhere he conjures up a smile in his voice and presses the answer button.

“Hey babe.”

“Hey yourself,” it starts out like this every time, when they don’t have to force the notion that they’re pleased to hear each other’s voices.

Zayn still has the power to make Liam’s heart skip a bit just with one word, doesn’t even have to be a particularly grand word, just the way he’ll say something in that Yorkshire accent he’s so in love with and that’s never changed even after all these years they’ve spent to and from LA.

“Checked the weather before,” says Liam, “Scorching innit?”

He hears Zayn murmur a quiet, “Yeah.”

It starts then, the silence that used to be filled with nothing other than relief at the feeling that even though separated, they could still talk to each other, it’s now stilted, awkward and Liam’s scrambling to find what best to say, when there’s too much he wants to say but recent times have taught him to be careful.

“Wish I was there,” it’s the truth, but he knows it’s not the right thing to say as there’s a heavy sigh that comes down the other end of the phone line.

“Yeah, well, easily changed that as you know Liam,” it’s not that he sounds angry, it’s more that he sounds so tired, so weary, his tone is curt too, but Liam could overlook that, he could but just like a couple of days ago, like last week, like the week before it touches a nerve.

He tries to keep his voice even, tries not to let the defensiveness show in the tone of his response.

“How many times Zayn, how many times do we have to go through this until you realise that it’s not just me, you could be here, there’s a reason why we built a studio here.”

He fails.

“There’s a reason we built one here too babe,” Zayn’s voice is just so reasonable, so soft.  Too reasonable, too soft.

So if all else fails, like usual Liam makes an attempt at humour.

“You know what, we missed a trick Zedd, that studio in the middle of the ocean, that’s what we should have been spent all our money on.”

There would have been a time that Zayn would have snorted out a laugh, called Liam “you big doughnut,” and then they’d have carried on talking about everything, what they’d been up to.

“Mm,” is the only sound he gets in return and then it’s back, the silence except it’s worse even than before.

It’s not even quarrelling, not even a bitter fight with name calling, and yet somehow it’s worse, much worse and Liam looks at his watch, and it’s almost time for him to head to the studio, to try and push through to finishing this album.

Liam’s first big debut as a producer and he should be excited. 

Instead, he’s figuring out how to remove himself from a conversation that not that long ago could have lasted hours, even if they’d spoken no words, just to hear his breath, to hear him moving around the kitchen, occasionally dropping little words of commentary about where he was and what he was doing.

“Anyway, I have, erm, well stuff to do so we’ll talk soon,” it’s not a surprise Zayn beats him to it, it’s not a surprise that it’s as awkward as it would’ve been had Liam said it, “Won’t we?”

Those last two words though, the way Zayn sounds so uncertain, the fact that it’s a real question and the fact that he has to voice it at all.

It’s like Liam’s been kicked in the stomach because if he needed a clue as to how bad all this was, he has it.

 “We will Zayn, we will and it’s only a week or so till I see you, I really do mis-.”

 “Yeah anyway, love you.” 

Four words, and the last two used to feel like a fleece blanket on Liam when he was most cold, most afraid and tired of everything.  Now they just feel cold and unfamiliar.

Then there’s silence which is too suffocating, so Liam finishes, “Miss you,” to the ended call screen and to the room he’s in and then with a small glance because any longer will do things to him, he can’t express, he looks at the picture on the wall in their study, of them.  In times that feel like a lifetime since he says out loud, “Love you too.”

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From an early age, Andrew has learned that nothing good ever came from emotions. Caring for someone was exhausting when in a few months’ time, maybe even a few weeks, he would be off to the next foster home. So Andrew stopped. He stopped caring for people who would only disappoint him. He stopped caring for himself when it was easier to forget the pain that way. He stopped caring for life itself when it proved that it was not going to get better. It was what made Andrew not only a good goalie, but a great one. He cut nanoseconds off his reaction time by skipping the shock and excitement when a ball is lobbed his way.

But then Neil Josten came along and Andrew was drawn to him like fly to a honey trap. His scattered thoughts jumped around but kept on landing on Neil Josten, dangerous. Neil Josten, the boy who didn’t add up. Neil Josten, where it didn’t matter if he swung or not, as long as he was close, as long as he was protected from the nightmares chasing him. That was enough.

Then Neil went to the nest. To protect him. ‘If it means losing you, then no.’ Those words reverberated through his head on an endless loop. Andrew did not have friends. Not like that. Not someone who would willingly go through hell, no matter how pointless, just for him. The signals weren’t so clear anymore. When Neil asked that one question, Andrew decided he would finally spell it out loud and clear. ‘That doesn’t mean I wouldn’t blow you.’ And it finally got across to Neil.

Andrew watched as Neil recalculated the world like he was prone to do. He checked the exits out of habit and then he locked eyes with him and Andrew saw something that made his heart beat a little faster, his hands become a little sweaty, his face twitch minutely in a semblance of a real smile.

And then it was gone. Because hope wasn’t something he believed in. Hope was a construct of fools and of people who disliked words for their sound and connotation and not for their life experiences.

When Neil was standing in front of him asking what he was afraid of ‘heights’ came out, but another fear was there bubbling up from the depths. A fear that had blue eyes, auburn hair, and a reckless personality.

And when Neil was on the roof and Andrew leaned in and Neil wasn’t moving and their lips touched and Neil still was not moving to stop him, his heart felt like exploding. But like a tire with slow leak, it deflated and he pushed Neil away.

But Neil kept on coming back and back and back. Until he was gone. And Andrew realized that he was a fool. He made a mistake. He let someone in. He knew better. After Aaron. After Cass. After he was seven and please no longer meant being polite. His emotions were out of hand. He didn’t realize the control he had learned over the course of his life was gone, slipping away slowly until it hit the ground and shattered into a million pieces.

AO3: inhale