what even is this article

  • what she says: i'm fine
  • what she means: what the hell are the set blocks used in Falsettos (2016) made of?? they must be incredibly sturdy and firm because they don't dent or sag when the actors stand on them, but lightweight enough that they can be carried and moved with ease?? they probably have some sort of grip on their surface to keep them from shifting too much when they're stacked, yet they don't noticeably or loudly drag across the stage?? how are they balanced?? how do they spin when they're in the large block formation?? is there one piece that has wheels underneath it that the rest attach to when it spins, so it stays together?? but where would the wheels go?? what the fuck?????
4

I still can’t wrap my mind about what happened, this news hit me really hard that i started crying when I read the articles. I can’t even imagine what Ariana is going through , the poor girl just wanted to make people smile that night and make it an unforgettable night for everyone. The fact that she thinks that it’s her fault makes me extremely sad and emotional.Because it is no ones fault. Especially not Ariana’s when all she does is spread love and happiness.and i hate seeing her like this. And i hope she does stop the tour to take time for herself , i would fully comprehend it and everyone should to and just let her rest .It was a very selfish action by people that aren’t human beings , and that will be punished by God and will suffer in Hell.
All my prayers go to the victims, families and friends . I can’t imagine what some mom’s have to go through. With their kids missing without even knowing if they are dead or alive , No mom should go through this pain. It must be an unbearable pain. So sad that some teenagers woke up that day with the thought of “ This is going to be the best day of my life i am going to see my Idol” and their best day of their lives ends like this , it is very heart crushing.
Going to a concert should be an event of joy , an event that brings people together , an event where people feel connected with the artist and an event where you feel safe.

❤️❤️

i told myself i’d never do this again but lol

They say that when you die, your life flashes before your eyes. 

Alec wasn’t dying, but he felt like he was. Valentine might as well have shoved the soul sword into his chest. That’s how Alec felt when he saw all the dead downworlders scattered across the room.

Magnus

When Alec last saw him, they had argued.

He had shoved Magnus away, when all he wanted to do was help him. 

And Alec walked away. 

And now Magnus might be…

“Where’s Magnus?” Alec asked again, his own voice sounding foreign. 

He couldn’t breathe. His chest felt tight. His vision began to blur. 

And all he could remember was the look of hurt on Magnus’s face when he shoved past him that night. 

And over what

Every touch. Every kiss. Every smile. 

They all began to flash through Alec’s mind. 

And he felt like he was dying. 


Valentine was sent to the Clave. 

Everyone seemed to be able to breathe again. 

The room was lighter, the fear in everyone’s eyes dissipating as they reunited with their loved ones. 

When Alec heard that not all the downworlders were affected by the soul sword, he let himself hold onto a shred of hope. 

It was small, but Alec knew that if he let it go, he’d spiral out of control.

His breath hitched as he shoved through the crowds of people. As he walked out of the institute, he was surprised by how bright it was outside. It was as if the sun knew that Valentine was gone, clearing away the clouds so that the angels could observe them in the aftermath of all this chaos. 

Through the sea of bodies, he still couldn’t see him.

Magnus was never one to blend in with the crowd. 

Wh-What was he last wearing? 

Alec shut his eyes and tried to remember, and it was then that he felt it—warmth shooting up his arm. 

He quickly turned around and all the fear exploded out of him. Magnus looked up at him, a look of relief reflecting off his own features. 

Alec crushed him towards his chest, breathing him in. Savoring his warmth, his touch. 

He was safe. 

He was here. 

And as he felt Magnus tighten his arms around him, Alec finally knew.

He knew that he loved him. 

I had a dream that I worked for Brendon Urie lmao god I wish that were true

so when my dad and I were playing Dragon Age Inquisition earlier there was a bit in the Frostback Basin where you have to row the boat to get to an island and I was like 

‘Who do reckon is actually rowing, because frankly I can’t imagine Dorian doing it. Do you think Blackwall is, and everyone else is just sitting around giving him helpful instructions?’

and my dad was like 

‘Probably. Or Varric. Crikey, actually he does use a crossbow all the time so he’s probably got really strong arms. The man is definitely a rower.’

and I just like

I went to a rowing AU place

that story about the family that abused and enslaved a woman for her entire life should NOT have been written like a fuckin Laura Ingalls Wilder book from the perspective of the child of the slave owners what the FUCK was even going on in that article??? im so shocked that i saw ppl spreading it

anonymous asked:

What do you think about the problemstic things martin has said in the past

What do I think about the problematic things Martin has said in the past?
First of all, I think that the only reason we know about anything he has said in the past, present or future, is because he’s a famous person that gets some of his ideas or statements published, while anyone else can and gets away with saying problematic things because nobody is constantly assessing, analysing, doing heuristics about what we say or do 24 hours a day, 7 days a week, and continuously publishing them in newspapers, magazines, online publications, social media, etc. 
Secondly, I think that saying problematic things just makes him a human being which is basically what we all are: a work in progress that can make mistakes. Sometimes those mistakes come because we’ve got a big mouth, because we just messed up and did or said the wrong thing, because nobody ever corrected us before, because we are either willing or unwillingly unaware of some facts, because our own circumstances haven’t made us seen facts that could make our views regarding something change radically, or it could even be - in the case of famous people - that whatever they’ve said, was misquoted, misinterpreted, doctored to look like something else.
Third, I think that as far as I know, Martin is not a shitty person who willingly wants to harm people with his ideas or answers, he’s not vicious nor has a hidden agenda to subconsciously sink those ideas into his fans/viewers/general public that comes across his views’s brains. 
In fourth place, I know that Martin is a very intelligent man and therefore doesn’t truly give much credit to what they print about him or even “quote” him in magazines or articles even interviews. He has said as much. I can’t find the exact quote but basically he said that we shouldn’t believe in everything we read as a quote cause it usually is missing half of it.
Fifth, I am happy to say that if Martin has said problematic things, that doesn’t make me appreciate him any less. I am a fan that can separate things and can easily call out nasty things people I like have said. I don’t live in a binary world in which one turns into my enemy because he’s not my friend, or is garbage and therefore my enemy because their views on something don’t agree with mine. I am also someone that doesn’t believe that to be a fan of someone, you have to like and approve of every freaking thing they say or do. I am an adult, i have a university degree and I can have my own opinions. There’s a lot of that binary mentality in fandoms (and sadly in the world) and in my opinion that doesn’t help to bring us together it just aids the cause of people trying to separate us even more. That’s their agenda: divide and conquer. I live in a world of greys and Martin is not one thing or the other.
And last but not least, let’s imagine that some stuff has actually been problematic. Think for instance in anything that has come to mind when you sent me this message. Let’s just entertain that idea (this is just a scenario), that he has said them because he’s ignorant about it or wanted to be callous and mean and a massive cock. I can dislike it as a fan as I said in my previous paragraph, but what this says to me about Martin, is that he is his own person. He’s not going to say things to serve something or someone else, he’s not obsequious and that is saying a lot in the business he dwells in. He fucked up? Fine, he fucked up. He won’t say something politically correct just because it is what he has to say. That takes a lot of courage and that’s something I admire. You can argue that of course it’s easy for him- because of his circumstances or the position he’s in - to not be complaisant, to say whatever he wants, but if you read what he supports / does, and how much he helps others, how constant he is and at the same time know a thing about his business and how easily he could lose that position, then maybe you’d understand why i say it takes courage to own up to your mistakes, and that makes me admire him.

I could be forgetting something but to my defence it’s 3 am, but I hope this in a way sums up what I feel about that.

There’s Something in Your Eyes

I’m going to kind of combine prompts for this one, and that may be cheating a bit, but I like this enough to submit it for both. First and foremost, this is a Harry Potter AU (Day 13), and I have combined it a bit with Day 17, Prom Night. Of course, the closest thing to a “prom” in the Harry Potter universe would be the Yule Ball! So this will be a two-shot, with part one being posted today, and part two posted on the 17th. I hope you enjoy!

This year, the Triwizard Tournament is being held at Beauxbatons Academy of Magic, where Marinette Dupain-Cheng has been selected as Champion. She is not afraid of most of the challenges that await her. Except one. Fantastic beasts? No problem. Tests of wit? She’s got them in the bag. Asking her crush to the Yule Ball? That’s a different story entirely…

Named for Ajab Si from Om Shanti Om.

Also on AO3

Keep reading

So the other day I came across this article: http://www.cosmopolitan.com/sex-love/a39099/girlfriends-with-benefits/

I laughed at the title so I decided to read it. It’s basically about how women are now looking for best friends whom they can also hookup with often BEHIND their boyfriend’s/husband’s backs, but from what I remember the word cheating is not even mentioned. One woman in the article claimed that while she enjoyed sex with women she would never date one because “wouldn’t it be like a sleepover with my bestfriend every night? Could I even take it seriously?”

I’m so frustrated. The article briefly talks about that these women do not want the stigma and consequences of being queer, but it does not go into it nearly enough.

and you know whats even more disgusting? they released an article like that one talking about louis’ pain and loss today, when it’s exactly three months since louis and his family lost Jay. gross people.

What the fuck with Americans trying to glamorize high school years? Put a filter on, add some grain, take photographs of young lovers kissing each other and running around in a forest, make films of group of friends driving in the countryside and siblings enjoying the sun on a boat. Light a cigarette, eat snacks that go well with alcohol, somehow the reason behind is just some dumb boy dumped our girl. No. Take off that filter, this isn’t 90s anymore, iPhones in everyone’s hands have clearer vision. Teenage years isn’t only about the social drama and occasional sadness that seem to take over your life. In fact, it revolves around what the fuck am I gonna do with my life, with my parents pushing me to study law and the craving of a gaze from a boy I’ll never actually love on the top. The truth is, if teenage years were dessert you’d throw the tasteless cake ornaments away and dig the frosting to eat the plain cake. Indie rock will never play in the background as you kiss your lover on the shore and fireworks color the night sky and camera won’t romantically lose focus. In reality, life’s not romantic. Teenagers are dreamy and we like to deafen ourselves with loud music but we’re not romantic. That was childhood. In high school years you get closer to college and life gets more complicated and real. Those are the years you lose someone from your family for the first time and start to notice that people are dying one by one, so you realize your parents aren’t gonna be a around forever. You start to study more and read more and understand more and even pay attention to politics a little. You regret kissing not kissing, loving not loving, speaking up shutting up, isolation socializing because teenage years are a giant ball of mess, it has knots you will eventually give up solving. What I’m trying to say to those 25, 30, 45, 60 year old photographers and filmmakers who get applause by their peers for perfectly capturing the youth daze, that wasn’t a deep take on the way a teenager’s mind work, that was nostalgia.

Does 13rw "glorify" mental health?

I’ve heard a lot of people say that 13 reasons why is “glorifying” mental illness. I would like to discuss why that is not the case. It’s a show that depicts what actually happens in schools, in life even, that pushes people over the edge. Yes, Hannah’s case is extreme for story telling purposes but do you know what some are even worse. (However everyone’s mental health are equally as important) This article argues that the writers have no idea what they are talking about and that “other people aren’t responsible for your mental health.” Firstly I’d like to say I respect your opinion but I disagree. It is true that all cases of mental health are different and some cases are not influenced by the actions of others but some are. And that’s where I disagree with the article. This show displays how the actions of others, despite how little you insignificant you think it is, can ruin someone’s life because a mental state can be easily deteriorated through a toxic environment e.g. bullying in all forms.

In regards to 13rw “glorifying” mental health. Are they? They present it in graphic detail and as what Hannah believed was the last option but this show was made to show that suicide isn’t the last option. Moreover, it shows the flaws in society about issues such as bullying and rape are not dealt with well. The story of Hannah baker is a tragic story of what should have never happened. In addition 13rw presents the protagonist clay as a person dealing with anxiety of his own and struggling with the personal guilt that he should not have left Hannah alone. But this is not the show blaming clay for Hannah’s suicide but expressing how someone would naturally feel if someone close to them committed suicide. In addition, it shows how Jess deals with her mental health and how she sinks to alcoholism as an escape but shows how she is helped when she throws away the alcohol and her dad reaches out to her. This show does not glorify mental health but instead expresses it in many of its forms. It does not promote suicide it shows how society is flawed and how it should be improved.

What’s kind of annoyed me is that the people I’ve spoken to have said they want mental health to be represented on television. Well here it is and although it may not fit their depictions of mental illness it is spreading awareness and creating change and that’s what’s important.

That’s my opinion anyway.

anonymous asked:

i used to be a larry it got a little ridiculous and i couldn't hang anymore. why y'all such conspiracy theorists tho? what if none of this is subliminal like honestly they could have been in love in the beginning but i don't see it towards the end or even now. i'm gay as fuck for larry when i believed they were in love but

“why y'all such conspiracy theorists tho?”

It’s not my fault that whoever is behind this ridiculous cycle of stunts is so bad at their job and so bad at lying that the idea that a 24 year-old man was pushing a doll around in a pram whilst being photographed seemed 100% more likely than the story they told. Seriously. I wrote about it back in January here and I’m not copying and pasting it all, but it outlines what has been presented as “fact” versus what I actually saw with my own two eyes. It’s not even a conspiracy article, it’s words versus actions. Which is what everything comes down to. You’ve heard the whole “actions speak louder than words” saying yeah? Well it’s a good way to go about critical thinking. I prefer to think of what I say and post as “critical thinking” as opposed to “conspiracy”. 

That article isn’t even taking into account that they announced the birth originally on the 20th of October 2015

I mean…it clearly looks like unfinished copy, but why have this story ready to go in October. On the day that One Direction cancelled their first show ever in five years. 

But no, they really covered that up well and didn’t at all shroud the actual birth in any kind of mystery by having some lady announce it on Instagram before having Louis do a slow stroll past a TMZ photographer on his way to go into Sunglass Hut to have a quick look around before deeming their selection aggressively inadequate for his royal highness and walking back out via same pap in case they didn’t get the shot the first time. 

I suppose I can see why people think this is a crazy conspiracy given how it’s covered in the media…

(x)

“what if none of this is subliminal”

“like honestly they could have been in love in the beginning but i don’t see it towards the end or even now.

Excuse m-

Now you’ve done it. You’ve brought “hollaback girl” Louis out because he heard that you were talking shit and you didn’t think that he would hear it. 

“but”

We’re done here. Good day.

Never, In Fact, Homeless

Relationship: Dean x Daughter
Words: 2,625

Originally posted by whoeveryoulovethemost

You shivered as you gripped your leather jacket tighter, curling in on yourself in a desperate attempt for warmth you knew wouldn’t come. The bench was hard and cold beneath you, the slats digging into your hip. You were probably better off by the edge of the park, where the trees could hide you from this biting wind, but it was late and you were too exhausted to move.

As hard as you tried, though, sleep just wouldn’t come to you. By midnight, you were beyond frustrated; you were planning to leave town the next day, and you knew you were going to need your strength. But strength was a little hard to come by when you didn’t know when your next chance to eat would be.

A twig snapped a little ways down the path, shaking you from your thoughts. You stiffened and strained your ears to hear footsteps. It sounded like two men, judging by the heavy footfalls, both either very big or very tall. They were talking to each other, whispering animatedly about something evidently important. As they came closer, you swore their voices seemed eerily familiar; but then, you had met a lot of people in your travels over the past two years.

The men stopped about fifty feet away from where you were, and you held your breath. They were arguing now, about what you couldn’t tell. You gave a silent prayer to a God you knew wouldn’t listen that they would pass by you and ignore you like everyone else. As luck would have it, they didn’t.

You heard them start towards you, and you feigned sleep as they came up behind you. Your whole body was tense.

“Excuse me, miss?” One asked in an authoritative voice, and you would have fallen over had you not been lying down. “Hey, we know you’re awake, so you can quit pretending.”

Your heart fell to somewhere in your stomach region. They were the last people you expected. You’d hoped that you wouldn’t have had to face them for a few more years at least, but apparently fate had other plans. You sighed as you pushed yourself up from the bench, stretching to get the blood flowing through your stiff body. You knew you were just prolonging the inevitable, but the thought of seeing them again, and the possibility that they would recognize you, had your stomach in knots. Finally, after stalling for too long, you turned around to face the men.

They were both extremely tall, and dressed in official-looking suits. The one who had spoken was very handsome, with spiked up dirty blond hair and the greenest eyes you had ever seen. He had a look of concentration on his face, with hints of concern and worry. You could see he recognized you, although faintly, and was trying to figure out how he knew you.

If the first guy had been tall, the second was a giant. He towered over the park bench, and if you hadn’t known how big of a teddy bear he was, you would have been terrified. His shaggy hair was longer than it had been before, now just above his shoulders, and his warm brown eyes held concern.

“What are you doing here?” Gigantor asked. You stared at a spot just over his shoulder; you weren’t entirely sure that you’d be able to look at him directly without breaking down or throwing yourself at either of them.

“I could ask you the same thing,” you shot back. Green-eyes gave his partner an eye roll before they both reached inside their jackets and pulled out their badges. They showed them to you as Gigantor replied.

“Agents Page and Plant, FBI.”

“Page and Plant? Like Robert Plant and Jimmy Page from Led Zeppelin?” you asked with false innocence, and you smirked as their eyes widened almost comically. You knew it was sort of cruel, but you wanted to watch them squirm a bit.

Agent Page gave his partner a look that told you they hadn’t been expecting that. Agent Plant struggled for a bit to think of a reasonable explanation that anyone but you would accept.

“We, uh, our bosses are, uh, really big fans,” he stammered, refusing to meet your gaze. The look on his face was absolutely priceless, and under different circumstances, you would have teased him endlessly about it. He cleared his throat and looked back at you, his tone serious once more. “What about you? You got a name to go with that attitude?”

You blanked. You hadn’t been expecting things to get this far, and you didn’t have a fake name ready. You just said the first thing that popped into your head. “Campbell. Mary Campbell.”

As soon as the words left, you immediately regretted them. You mentally cursed yourself. How could you be so stupid? You knew that was still a sore subject for both of them, and you’d crossed the line by throwing it so casually in their faces, even if they thought it was just a coincidence. They tried to play it off like it didn’t bother them, but you could see the pain their eyes held, and you had to look away so that you wouldn’t start crying.

You cleared your throat and tried to pretend like you hadn’t just struck a nerve. “So, what’s FBI doing in a small town like this? Don’t you guys have bigger fish to fry?”

You could tell Agent Plant was relieved at the change in subject. “We’re investigating the deaths of those three teenagers from the local high school.”

“Oh, yeah, I remember hearing about them in the newspaper,” you said. You’d only glanced at the article, but even from what you saw, you could tell something supernatural was behind the murders. That meant it was only a matter of time before hunters came into town to investigate, and you should have been long gone by then. Unfortunately, circumstance forced you to stay a few more days before you could go. “It’s really tragic. Do you guys have any theories on what happened?”

“Not yet, but we’re working on it,” Page replied. He took out a notepad and pencil. “You wouldn’t happen to know anything about it, would you?”

Oh, lovely, an interrogation at twelve-thirty in the morning. Of course that was just what you needed.

“No, sorry,” you answered truthfully.

“Don’t you go to school with them?” Plant pressed. Suddenly your boots became really interesting. You felt the blush creep up your neck, and you mumbled something to the ground. “Come again?”

“I dropped out, ok?” you said a bit too harshly, and you had to bite the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from crying. You missed the agents’ identical looks of concern.

“Mary, how long have you been out of school?” Page asked gently. He was kneeling in front of you now, and it took all you had not to wrap your arms around him.

“Two years,” you said in a soft voice. You felt a tear slip down your cheek, and you angrily swiped at it. There was no way you were going to cry in front of them and let them see how weak you were.

“Can I ask why?”

“My-my parents needed help at home, and to them, my sister’s education was more important than m-mine,” you lied as more tears fell unbidden. You couldn’t tell them the real reason, that you were a failure and a burden and that’s why you were here, but you did give a little bit of truth. “I was g-gonna fail out anyways, it’s not like it made any difference.”

The agents had a silent conversation with each other before they turned back to you. Agent Page’s eyes held so much pity and concern that it physically hurt you.

“Do you need us to give you a ride home?” he asked. You could feel your heart beating rapidly in your chest. This was the kind of thing you’d wanted to avoid, because it led to other questions that you really didn’t want to answer.

“N-no,” you stuttered, cursing yourself for showing so much weakness. “My p-parents kicked me out of the house.”

“Do you have any relatives you could stay with? Maybe a friend who’d be willing to let you crash for tonight?” Page pushed. You sniffed and shook your head. You appreciated his efforts, you really did, but you were so exhausted, both physically and emotionally, that you just wanted them to leave.

“Where are your parents, Mary?”

You stayed quiet, thinking that if you didn’t acknowledge the question it would just go away. You knew Plant just wanted to help you, but you could tell from his body language that he was getting very annoyed with you.

“Mary.” His voice left no room for argument. “Where are your parents?”

“Th-they’re dead,” you whispered. Another lie, but to you, they were as good as.

Plant knelt down in front of you. From the look he gave you, you could tell what was coming next. Now it was only a matter of time before they told the real authorities and you were carted off to Child Services.

“Mary, are you…” He swallowed thickly, a multitude of emotions playing across his face. “Are you homeless?”

Your heart clenched, and you refused to meet his gaze. You’d told yourself time and again that you weren’t homeless, just traveling around. But hearing those words come from him of all people made the realization ten times harder. “No.”

The agent put a hand under your chin and gently lifted it so that you had no choice but to look at him. Those beautiful green eyes, so much like your own, found blue contacts, and the genuine concern they held for you, someone he didn’t even know, was enough to push you over the edge.

And then you were sobbing, tears dripping off your chin and snot running freely from your nose. You didn’t even care that the agents were still there. You weren’t thinking properly. Your desire, your need, to be held and comforted caused you to act impulsively, and you threw your body onto Plant. You were so desperate for any form of affection, something you’d been denied for two years. You just wanted to be in his arms again. He held you just like he used to when you were a little girl,  albeit rather awkwardly, and you instinctively leaned into him, wrapping your arms around his neck.

As your sobs died down to pathetic hiccups, you slowly became aware that you were still draped over the agent. You quickly scrambled back on to the bench and stared down at your feet, your face burning. “S-sorry.”

The men didn’t say anything for a while, which made you very nervous. When you chanced a glance at them, you could see they having a silent argument with each other. You put your head back down, feeling a tidal wave of guilt wash over you for causing them even more trouble.

Agent Plant cleared his throat. “Would you excuse us for a moment?”

You nodded mutely and watched their blurry feet move out of your line of vision as they jogged down the path. As soon as they thought they were out of earshot, they started arguing with each other. You couldn’t tell what it was about, but by the way Plant was waving his hands, it was a little intense. You thought you heard your name thrown in there a few times, but you weren’t sure.

It wasn’t until you saw their feet approach out of the corner of your eye that you brought your head back up. Both men wore serious expressions, which instantly set you even more on edge. They kneeled in front of you again, and Agent Page looked at his partner, who gave a nod of confirmation, before addressing you.

“Mary, we were wondering if, uh, if you’d like to spend the night with us,” Page said, and your eyes widened. He seemed to realize how that sounded out loud because he back-tracked a little. “I mean, like, in a totally non-creepy way. We just, you know, we wanna help you out a little, get you back on your feet.”

You knew you probably looked like an idiot with your mouth hanging open and your eyes wide as saucers, but you couldn’t help it. For the first time in over two years, someone was offering kindness, not just money or food. For all they knew, you were just some random teenager sleeping on a park bench, and yet here they were, offering to let you stay the night with them.

You didn’t even try to stop the tears this time. You let them fall, too overcome with emotion to really care. You could see the agents were startled by your reaction, and they quickly looked at one another.

“I-I’m so sorry,” Page stammered. “Did I say something wrong? Was it something I said?”

You shook your head and drew in a shaky breath. You forced yourself to focus on your breathing, attempting to calm down enough to explain yourself.

“I’m sorry,” you apologized, wiping at the tear tracks on your face. “It’s j-just that, no one’s ever done that for me. Offered to let me stay the night, that is. They give me food, a-and some change if they can spare it, but never anything more than that.” You paused, looking at both of the agents in turn. “It’s just nice to know there’s still some good left in the world.”

“Ah, don’t mention it,” Plant said as he stood up and offered you a hand, which you gladly accepted. “You seem like a good kid, just in a bad situation.”

Blushing at the compliment, your gaze shifted to your feet as you followed the agents. It was all a bit overwhelming, seeing both of them again, and you knew it probably wasn’t the best idea to stay with them. But you were willing to take any risks if it meant spending time with them again, even if it was only for a little while.

You whipped your head up as you heard a car door open, and your breath snagged in your throat. There she was, just as beautiful as you remembered her. The sleek black hood caught the reflection of the moon and stars in the clear night sky. She was meticulously detailed, with not a scratch to be found. You found yourself running your hand over the trunk on your way to your seat behind the driver.

“She’s beautiful,” you breathed, more to yourself than the agents. But Agent Plant heard you as he walked to the driver’s side.

“Thanks,” he said, beaming with pride. “Rebuilt her myself. She’s a-”

“1967 Chevy Impala,” you cut in, unable to help yourself. You glanced up to see him giving you a look of mild impression, with a hint of curiosity, and you found yourself blushing again. “My dad was obsessed with classic cars, and it kinda rubbed off.”

He gave you a small nod of approval before opening his door and ducking inside. You quickly followed suit, sinking into the familiar leather of the backseat. You recalled fondly the many nights spent sprawled out back here, sleeping away the distance as you traveled across the country to gank the next SOB that decided to rear its ugly head. A contented sigh escaped you as you stretched your legs across the seat out of habit, making sure to keep your dirt covered shoes off of the upholstery.

You closed your eyes and let the gentle purr of the engine pull you under, a soft smile playing on your lips.

so, revelation: i really don’t care about any of the 1d boys other than harry outside of the band dynamic