what if she lets herself fall in love with him and then she loses him

look at me - i will never pass for a perfect bride

so i know i already made a retold mulan post but i just LOVE MULAN SO MUCH so here’s another

in the original myth mulan isn’t really a clumsy fish out of water. she’s strong and smart and the reason she goes to war is because she’s the most qualified person in her family to fight, regardless of gender.

so how about this: mulan’s a fighter. she knows exactly who she is, like in the original myth, she’s knows how to be the blossoming flower and the great stone dragon. she’s still mulan though, so she still doesn’t memorize the silly ways she’s supposed to be a good wife and has little patience for appearing graceful while pouring tea. she’s innovative and courageous and beautiful, but no one is under any illusions about what kind of wife she’ll be.

and the matchmaker is the matchmaker for the li family as well, for this great big part of china. and general li wants his son to be married before he goes off to war, wants his son to have a reason to fight to live, like a wife waiting for him. and the matchmaker reads the stars and the tea leaves and the astrology charts, and no matter what all the signs point to one thing: the honorable li shang is destined to marry the insolent, arrogant fa mulan.

the matchmaker isn’t going to let that happen, she refuses to be responsible for that disaster of a wedding. so she sends her most beautiful girls, the ones that are obedient and quiet and know their roles, the ones that are eager to marry into the li family.

and each of them are entertained and met and sent back. shang is many things, but smooth isn’t one of them, he has nothing to say to these quiet girls who smile at him, feels large and awkward around their polite smiles. so he and his father go to the matchmaker’s village, shang reluctantly and his father to demand she stops messing with them and provides a proper bride.

it’s on the day that mulan and the other girls are parading in the street. shang sees a girl - mulan - hurry into the end of the line, jumping over a bench and darting around a careening wagon to get there, and stifles a laugh.

then there’s no reason to laugh at all, because a group of huns have decided that this village is in their way, and attack.

everyone scatters, women hide, children hide, and most of the men do too. shang and his father join the fight with some of the other men who hadn’t hid, and these men are starved, clearly not with shan yu, so even though they’re outnumbered they’ll likely win.

shang sees a hun go to attack the girl he’d seen earlier, the girl for whatever reason hadn’t run and hid. the hun raises a sword above his head to strike her down, and shang is so sure he’s about to see this pretty girl lose her head.

but she doesn’t. instead she rolls out of the way, and pops up, headbutting him in the stomach. she takes his sword from his now-slack grip and plunges it into his chest. without hesitation or pause the girl joins the fight, swinging the sword expertly and cutting down every man who stands against her. soon they’re fighting back to back, and shang has never felt more in sync with another person. she cuts off the head of the last hun, and shang has never seen anyone more beautiful than this girl, dress ripped and make up smudged and covered in blood that isn’t hers.

“mulan,” one of the other girls says, peaking out of a store front, “is it over?”

the girl, mulan, looks out over the dozen dead men and says, grimly, “it’s barely begun.” she searches the crowd, finding and old man and yelling, “gather the bodies, we’ll burn that at dusk outside of the village. everyone else,” her eyes sweep across the gathered people, and shang is struck by the fact that this girl isn’t well liked. there’s anger and disapproval in many of the faces, but they’re listening. these people don’t like her. but they do trust her. “let’s clean this all up. these were bandits, not soldiers. there’s nothing more to fear.”

“what if there are more?” the other girl asks, arms wrapped around herself.

mulan raises her stolen sword and says, “then i will slice them to ribbons. this is our village, and this is our country. any who would try to take it from us - from me - will suffer the consequences.”

and it shouldn’t be comforting, hearing words of violence from this young girl, yet everyone around them relaxes, and gets moving, gather the bodies and tending the wounded.

“who are you?” his father asks, and someone who doesn’t know him might think he was angry, but shang can tell he’s impressed.

mulan turns to them and bows, “my apologies. i am fa mulan, daughter of fa zhou. thank you for helping us.” she stands, and shang meets her eyes for the first time.

he swallows, and blurts out, “you - you fight good.”

his father coughs to hide his laughter, but mulan’s eyes crinkle at the corners. “thank you. you do as well.”

and they just keep standing there smiling at each other until his father claps his hands and is like okay - they’ll have to report this to the emperor, no time to dawdle, have to go now.

so they take their leave, and shang thinks this is the last time he’ll see fa mulan.

except there’s still the draft, and this time mulan doesn’t take no for an answer, won’t hear of it. her father is injured and old and she is young and fit to fight. she will go in his place.

so she arrives at the camp, prepared to pretend and lie - except she goes to meet her commanding officer and it’s him, that boy who had fought with her. shang’s eyes widen, but they’re in front of too many people. he can see it on her face, her fear, and she hadn’t shown any fear when she was facing down over a dozen huns, but she does now. so he makes his choice and says nothing, pretends he buys her story.

she tracks him down that night and demands an explanation. he says this war is too important to kill good warriors, whatever gender they are. he swears to keep her secret. mulan is his best soldier from the beginning, and means to treat her like anyone else, but it’s impossible. she isn’t like anyone else, is strong and smarter and braver than them. they argue tactics, and she’s the only one who can give him a workout in hand to hand, and he doesn’t have trouble finding his words with her. he finds himself falling in love with her, but doesn’t say anything. she’s not here for love, she’s here for a war. he vows to say something if they survive this, but it’s unlikely that will happen.

they head to the front earlier. they get there in time to provide back up for his father and his army, and it’s a loss but not a slaughter. his father is too distracted to notice ping is the girl from the village. all he knows is this soldier had led the second wave of attacks, and it was thanks to her any of them were alive at all. they prevent half of the huns from getting through the pass, but that’s still an army heading for the imperial city. the general is injured, so mulan and shang lead the army after him.

they find him at the mountain, and just like before mulan uses the cannon to destroy the army. she knew it would spell their death, but it was worth it, for her people, for her country, for her family. this time it’s shang that won’t accept her death, that tries to drag her unconscious body to safety. only he fails, and mulan becomes buried under the snow.

they return to the city, and shang is besides himself - the woman he loves is dead, she saved them all and she’s gone, and he’ll never recover from this. only he can’t tell his father this, their friends. they think he mourns a friend, not the woman he wanted to make his wife.

except mulan survives, and sees the other huns as well. only she kills them there before they can get to the city, and decides this is for the best. fa ping dies honorably in battle, and fa mulan is free to return home to her family.

so general li decides that it’s time to go to that matchmaker again, and demand she stop playing games. the matchmaker confesses that she thought the bride was unsuitable, and the general demands she send her anyway.

so mulan has barely had the chance to settle back home when the matchmaker shows up at her door saying she’s sending her to see a potential husband, but not who. so mulan shows up all made up to li household and shang drags himself into the room, already resigned to a loveless marriage, when they see each other. “mulan?” he demands, and his father is all pleased because it’s the fighting girl from the village.

but then his son starts crying and they run to each other. shang picks her up in his arms and she clings to him, and shang is babbling about how he thought she was dead, and mulan is so overjoyed that she’s with shang, and shang wants her, that she kisses him without explaining.

except now shang’s father demands an explanation. so they give it to him, the whole story comes tumbling out, and he stares hard at her, and remembers her as ping, the brave soldier that had saved them all. he’s not upset - he ecstatic. he goes to the emperor and tells him everything, and the emperor officially offers mulan an officer position in the army. she accepts, as long as shang is by her side. shang seconds this, and they set in motion the plans for the wedding.

fa mulan and li shang get married and lead armies and live happily ever after, just like the stars intended.


read more of my retold fairytales here

anonymous asked:

heres a prompt if u were interested: neil being oblivious when flirted with constantly while andrew doing nothing, passing by, twirling his racquet is enough to get neil's attention (the rest of the foxes smirk)

“You’re all zoned out,” Matt says in her ear. Dan tips him immediately backwards with a hand to the chest.

“Shush,” she tells him, gritted through the straw she’s worrying between her teeth. She ran out of the watered-down pepsi they’re serving in battered plastic jugs a half hour ago.

“Dan.”

“Shush,” she insists, pressing two fingers to his mouth. She’s watching Neil trying to fill his water cup over at the far side of the banquet hall. He’s hovering in that way he does, like a shark who hasn’t figured out if something’s food yet.

There’s this sweet brown-eyed boy trying to talk to him, possibly the only male cheerleader in the room, certainly the least in the loop about Exy gossip. Dan watches him touch Neil’s arm and Neil jerks backwards into the table, toppling an entire icy water jug so it slops onto the floor and seeps through the tablecloth to the dark wood underneath.

Heads pop up, the boy falls all over himself to pour Neil a new glass, and Neil wanders off, bored.

Dan has noticed that people really want Neil to have a heart of gold. They like the news stories and they want them for themselves. They want the seams showing on his face and the tragedy in his back pocket, and they want to show everyone how accepting they are for finding his scars sexy. 

All they really want is his trim waist and his pretty eyes and his vice-cap badge and the way he shoves cameras away and has more history than any twenty-year-old has any business having.

Dan’s seen it all before. The way people like the character you’re playing so much that they want to take you home and open you up and see how deep it goes.

Neil’s worse at knowing when it’s happening. Dan’s a professional. She can see the way their eyes follow him because at least a dozen are always following her too, especially in places like this banquet. They look at Neil, or Dan, and a little part of them expects a show.

She watches Neil walk towards them with his eyes pouring over the room like liquid and finding every crevice, every exit. She looks at Matt.

“He’s doing that thing where he’s making a spectacle but he thinks he’s being very subtle.”

“That’s his whole shtick. I’m fond of it, now.” Matt grins.

“Do you think he actually noticed he was being hit on?”

Matt hums, watching Neil wind through the tables back to the fox—trojan extravaganza at theirs. “I doubt he knows anything about that boy other than the fact that he was in front of him for a bit.”

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His Mind Created the Perfect Metaphor

Dear BBC Sherlock community,

Ever since Sherlock series 4 came out, collectively we were like “what the HELL is this?!?! This doesn’t make any sense!” BUT after many months of tossing ideas around the fandom, we have made theories that could explain the weirdness, but nothing we can all agree on. Now, this meta here may be absolute garbage to you, but I believe, in my heart of hearts, I’ve solved it. Please read it in its entirety with an open mind before you reblog it just to tell me I suck.

Thanks in advance, you da best

Paige


Here’s the short version: Sherlock actually jumped at the end of The Reichenbach Fall, just as Doyle intended him to die. Gatiss and Moffat said they are correcting something in this adaptation that no one else has gotten right before. Many of us assumed the homosexual romance was the one thing they were changing, but we were punched in the face right after The Final Problem came out.  Gatiss and Moffat are changing the sacrifice. Holmes was intended to die for his friends but Doyle needed more money and rewrote the series after “The Final Problem”. That turned Holmes’ sacrifice into a cruel joke against Watson. This is what BBC Sherlock is fixing, and we’re about to see it come to fruition.

I know many theorists despise the homosexual reading of Holmes and Watson, while many people in general despise theorists on this site. That’s fine, I don’t care how people feel about gay theories and/or TJLC and its followers.  But I’m here to tell you TJLC, at its core as a concept, was right. You may hate Moffat and Gatiss, you may think Sherlock is a piece of shit show, and that’s fine, you do you. But hear this one meta out, please. I think even the hardest skeptic can at least apprectiate the thought and logic behind this.

Keep reading

Across The Hall

Pairing: Y/N and Harry

Word Count: 2000

Prompt:

“My date is tonight and I can’t cook to save my life so I was hoping maybe you can cook something and I could pass it off as my own,” Harry says.

Y/N giggles, walking down her hallway and into the living room where she can see her door is wide open, she closes it and turns back to Harry. He’s looking at her with a hopeful look in his eyes and a charming smile that Y/N can’t deny.

“Of course, I mean you helped me move, it’s the least I can do” Y/N smiled, “what time is your date?”

“Seven,” Harry says.

Y/N places her lower lip in between her teeth and her hands on her hip as she thinks, “okay yeah, I can do that, is this like a I want to actually date you date or a tinder type thing?”

“Tinder.”

Y/N rolls her eyes and hold the door open, “I’ll do it, but I do not agree with your motives.”

or

Y/N is the girl across the hall who tries to help Harry find a girl to settle down with, but Harry wants Y/N so he sabotages all his dates.


Harry was the first to notice Y/N.

She was standing next to her moving truck, pulling her hair into a ponytail with the blue scrunchie wrapped around her wrist. She was cute-not the normal type Harry would go for-but he would still try. Y/N was cute, and somehow dressed modest on the hottest day of the year, a white t-shirt tucked into a pair of sky blue shorts and sneakers, Harry was sure he hadn’t seen a girl with as much clothing as she had on, and that spoke loads to his character and choice women.

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anonymous asked:

so, um. if you have any particular feelings about labyrinth--specifically Sarah--uh, go wild.

WILD PEACHES  [AO3]

.

The morning after Sarah Williams defeats the Goblin King, she gets up and makes toast. She has to brush some glitter off the toaster—it withers and vanishes at the brush of her fingertips, and she stares at her hand for a long time. 

It mostly just looks like her hand. Even when she turns it over, and sees where she scraped her knuckles against the oubliette, where the shattered mirror cut the back of her wrist. It looks like she fell, or was playing in the street. That’s all.

The toast comes out burned, and Sarah stares at that too. Eventually, she slumps down against the cabinets and cries, wracking sobs that send her dad and Karen rushing into kitchen. They check her forehead for a fever, put their hands on her, and keep asking, “Are you okay? Sarah, please, tell us what’s wrong…”

Eventually, her dad drags her into his lap and cradles her against his chest, like he did when she was little. Her legs are too long to really fit anymore, but Sarah hugs him around the neck anyway. “It’ll be okay,” he says, keeps saying. “You’ll be okay.” And Sarah—doesn’t laugh, because she can’t, and doesn’t have the words to express what—how—

(None of her stories ever talked about this. What did Sir George do, the morning after he slayed the last dragon in England? Did Tam Lin eat breakfast, or did he sit there, shivering, wondering if his hands were different, having been claws and wings and scales?)

Afterwards, she leaves the burnt toast outside on the back porch. Not an offering. Maybe a reminder.

.

It’s Didymus she sees the most often, mostly because he’s the one who invites himself rather than waiting for an invitation. He comes for tea, but even if there’s no tea—which there isn’t, usually—he comes to tell Sarah stories. She learns to love poetry because there’s no escaping it with him. (She won’t read Idylls of the King until Brit Lit in college, but she ends up scrawling a lot in the margins; Didymus’ telling of events had been much more interesting.)

Once, she falls asleep like that, her hands tucked behind her head with Didymus curled up and sleepily reciting from the crook of her elbow. “So tender was her voice, so fair her face—though I don’t think he was looking at her face, my lady, pardon me for saying so—”

Sarah buries her nose in his fur. Didymus always smells of rosewater, and a crispness she thinks is just…the Labyrinth. She falls asleep trying to place it.

She wakes up with a wild fox in her bed, animal-black eyes frightened and flat, teeth bared. The fox is whining, and she’s tempted to throw herself across the room, to get away from this wild thing and its teeth. It takes a monumental will to keep herself still and her breathing slow, even; like she’s still asleep and unafraid. 

It takes her longer to swallow, and start humming one of the songs he taught her—a knight’s round, he’d said. She’s shaky at first, but the fox’s ears flick forward. It cocks its head, and slowly, the teeth disappear behind its lips. 

She almost laughs when noses at her throat curiously, butting its head against her jaw like a cat might.

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You’re His Ex Girlfriend and You See His New Girlfriend Wearing Your T-Shirt: Part 3

Part 1

Part 2

Masterlist linked in bio


If she closes her eyes hard enough, and just at the right moments, Y/n can feel Harry in Dan.

It’s quite peculiar, how she finds Harry in almost anything. It’s something she finds so riveting yet so dangerous at the same time. He’s everywhere, he’s in every breath she takes and in every move she makes, and it’s something that brings her an overwhelming sense of comfort yet an overbearing sense of instability.

Dan—an individual full of insecurities and excitement—who varies oh, so differently from Harry, can feel like him if she really tries hard enough. His arms don’t hold her quite the same, and his lips aren’t as soft and flavorful, but if she squeezes her eyes shut, and she loses herself in the memories of Harry, it’s like he’s almost back again—only in the most minuscule of ways.

Which is why, now, in this moment in time, Y/n can barely keep her eyes open.

It’s the first time Y/n brought Dan to the house, letting him stop by to watch a film after his shift. It’s a little something he’s wanted to do for a while, and after many coffee dates and many pleads from Dan, she finally took the step of being completely alone with him.

Gabby decided to go to a friends house and insisted they take their time together. It started off wonderfully; a bottle of red wine, a box of chocolates, and a bag of popcorn while they watched Jaws.

It was all wonderful, until Dan decided to make the move.

Dan is on top of her, lips connecting to hers in a lustful motion. It isn’t that Y/n doesn’t want to be in this position, but more of her being hesitant to do so. She hasn’t kissed anybody since Harry, and although Dan is one of the nicest people she’s ever met, she can’t find it within herself to keep moving any more forward.

And everything about it feels wrong.

Between all the touching, all the kissing, all the feelings within her, she can’t stop thinking about Harry. She can’t stop thinking about how much she misses him and how much she wants him back. She’s still in love with him, so much so that doing this with someone else makes her feel dirty—makes her feel like she’s betraying him.

And it’s all too much, because no matter how hard she closes her eyes, no matter how hard she tries to feel him, he’s not there, and she can’t help but seem to think that he never will be—not anymore.

“No, no, stop.” She whimpers, shaking her head in an attempt to reject Dan’s restless lips.

He doesn’t stop, however, too engaged in the moment to really understand the words stuttering from her mouth. He continues kissing her, instead, moving down to her collarbones.

At this point, Y/n starts to hyperventilate. Between the sobs daring to escape her chest and the lack of air from her previous activities, everything is straining against her. She doesn’t fully understand how she was able to get this far without it being with Harry.

“Stop!”

Her arms push Dan off of her until she’s alone on the couch as he’s panting on the floor. She can’t breathe. Her chest is tightening and her cries are so harsh that her lungs are collapsing inside of her.

She reaches her hands up to the roots of her hair, pulling back on them as she tries to gather all the oxygen she can. At this point, her head feels light and her sight is completely blurred by the tears flowing out of them—ones that she doesn’t even try to stop.

“I’m s—so sor—ry.” She hiccups, her head falling to her hands.

Dan gulps as he tentatively stands from his spot on the floor, his hands up in front of him as if in a panic—trying desperately to figure out how to fix the mess being made in front of him.

He looks around the room, as if in search for something to guide him through this situation, but there’s nothing. All the room occupies is a broken woman, sobbing breathlessly on a couch in front of him, muttering incoherent phrases under her breath.

“Okay,” he huffs out, nodding his head to himself, “It’s okay, yeah? You’re okay?”

He occupies the empty spot next to her, hesitantly wrapping an arm around her shoulders in an attempt to comfort her. In all honesty, Dan is complete shit at helping people during emotional breakdowns, and considering this one had happened so suddenly, he had absolutely no warning that he would be put in this position.

Y/n feels bad, she does, considering Dan doesn’t deserve the treatment she’s given him and surely doesn’t deserve what was once an innocent date to end up a complete disaster. But she can’t help it, and she can’t stop now, no matter how hard she tries.

“It’s Harry, isn’t it?”

His voice is nothing but a whisper, and the words that spoke out from his lips nearly brings every movement in Y/n’s body to a halt. She never told him that it was Harry who broke her heart, and to be honest, she doesn’t even find the strength within her to begin to question how he even knows of Harry—especially his relationship with her.

Of course, their relationship has been publicized for years, but Dan is a very closed-off type of person. He’s not much into music, either—another part of him that differs so drastically from Harry—and spends a majority of his time working or spending time outside rather than succumbing himself in social media.

He looks down at the rose ring wrapped around his pointer finger, twirling it around with the hand that was once wrapped around Y/n’s shoulders.

He knew the moment he saw Harry’s reaction that this ring very much belonged to him. He wasn’t quite sure why she sacrificed it so mindlessly—why it seemed to have no story behind it. But between everything Gabby’s told him and everything he’s gathered from her previous relationship, she wanted nothing more than to get rid of every reminder she had of him.

He doesn’t feel worthy enough for it, though. If Y/n and Harry don’t find their way back to each other, he feels she should at least give it to somebody that she loves, not somebody she needs to help her get over her heartbreak.

He slides it off his finger, placing it gently on the palm of his hand before closing his fingers into a fist.

“We can’t keep doing this, Y/n. Not if you can’t talk to me.” He mutters softly, “Not if you’re still in love with him, we’ll be getting nowhere.”

This makes her cry harder. She still doesn’t have the audacity to look up at him, no, how could she? After everything she’s done?

This is why she always ends up alone. No matter how in love she is, no matter how much effort she puts into a relationship, they always end up leaving her. It’s happened long before Harry, and she was so convinced he’d stay when he came around. She was so dead set on him being her forever, but the same thing happened again. He left, just like everyone else.

And now, Dan is leaving her, and although she can’t exactly blame him for doing so, it’s another wound to her heart—it’s another pain in her chest that only seems to increase with pain.

He sighs sadly at the sight in front of him, upset with himself that he’s probably a partial reason for her soul-shaking sobs and lack of air, but he has no other choice. If he stays with her, he’d be forcing her to love someone she doesn’t. He has to let her go if it means to possibly make amends with her happiness again.

He takes one of her shaking hands away from her face and bringing it towards his lap, spreading her fingers away from her palm so that he can set the ring softly against it.

She sobs at the sight, bringing her opposite hand to her mouth as she tries to quiet herself down.

“This was Harry’s, it always was. This belongs to you, Y/n, not me.”

She nods, trying her best to smile at him as a form of appreciation, but it fails miserably. He understands, though, that she cares, and doesn’t ask her any questions.

“I’ll let Gabby know to come home now, okay?”

He kisses the top of her head, the way he always does, before removing himself from the couch and toward the front door.

“Take care of yourself, Y/n. I mean it.”

And then, he’s gone, leaving Y/n alone in an empty house and her haunting thoughts. She feels the world is closing in on her, only giving her a restricted amount of air and a limited amount of light to see what’s in front of her.

She’s alone—she’s left by herself in a dark room that’s only being illuminated by the television light, where nobody can hear her, where nobody can touch her, where nobody can see her; in a place where she just can’t trust herself.

She’s left alone, as she’s always left, and she just can’t take it anymore.

Her emotions become so strong that her body collapses onto the floor, her head throbbing and throat burning from all the tears and cries. She can’t breathe, her lungs failing to take in oxygen and her chest is pounding.

It’s so bad that if Gabby doesn’t come home soon, she actually believes she’s going to die. She feels the tug on her heart and feels how hard it is for it to do its job properly—she practically feels it overworking itself.

“Oh, God.”

Gabby finds her on the floor, making her immediately drop her purse and run to her collapsed body. Y/n is a withering mess underneath her, completely drenched in sweat as violent sobs erupt from her body.

She’s quick to sit her up properly onto the floor before lifting her back onto the couch, running a comforting hand down the side of her neck as she begins to shush her down to a calm state. However, her attempt falters when Y/n shakes her head to remove Gabby’s touch from her neck.

“I can’t—I can’t—“

She tries to find words to explain what’s happening to her right now. Between the pain in her body and the feeling in her head, her brain is scrambling with so many fearful thoughts that the only thing she can truly comprehend is being saved from this horrifying feeling.

“Hospital.”

Gabby is taken aback when she says it, completely astonished by just how serious this all is. She realizes this isn’t a situation that she can fix on her own, and it makes her feel like such a bad friend that she can’t give her what she needs.

Tears fall from her eyes in panic, well aware that her friend is undergoing something far worse than a mental breakdown, but also knows that the hospital won’t be able to help her.

Only Harry can.

“Let me call for help, okay?“ She asks softly. “I’m gonna send help.”

When Harry sees Gabby’s contact light up his phone, something inside of him instantly fills with worry. He knows, without a doubt, that Gabby hates him more than anybody ever since what happened. And knowing her so well, she would never reach out to him, especially when her negative feelings toward him were so strong, unless it’s serious.

“Gabby?”

“You have to do something, Harry.” She cries through the phone, peaking over her shoulder to look over Y/n from her location in the kitchen.

She’s still a mess, holding her hand over her heart as if it were going to mend the pain. Her head is thrown over the back of the couch, her other hand running over her face continuously. Her sobs haven’t settled, only seeming to increase with panic over the unfamiliar reaction occurring over her body.

“She thinks you don’t want her and—Harry she thinks she’s dying. Her heart is so broken. She keeps saying her heart is going to fail her and I don’t—I don’t know what to do. I don’t think there’s anything I can do. She—she was trying so hard. Harry, please, you have to—you have to—“

Harry leans on his elbows over the kitchen counter, huffing out a shaky breath when he hears both Gabby and Y/n’s cries through the phone. He rubs his hand over his face, doing anything to prevent the tears nearly pooling out from his eyes.

He’d be lying if he said that guilt isn’t eating him alive in this moment. And it’s not that he hasn’t felt any remorse or any guilt since he’d broken Y/n’s heart, but he’s now fully aware that he has to look at the damage he’s done. He’ll have to witness all the pain, all the heartbreak he’s put her through, and nothing makes him feel worse.

“I’ll do anything.” He whimpers. “Just tell me what to do and I’ll do it. I promise, I won’t keep doing this to her, you have to believe me. Just—“ he lets out a broken breath, reaching his hand up to rub his eyes to prevent any tears from escaping, “just tell me what to do.”

Gabby wipes the tears from her cheeks, yet again peering over to watch over Y/n on the couch. To her dismay, there is absolutely no improvement.

“Come here, pick her up, and bring her home. Just talk to her, please. Nothing makes her feel worse than believing you don’t want her anymore. Hell, even if you don’t—I don’t know with you anymore—just give her something. You’re the only one that can fix this.”

He sighs, nodding his head before making his way out of his house without much of a response to her. He’s only concerned for Y/n, and is so focused on getting to her so that he can prove to her that he’s changed—that he’s not the same Harry he was and is going to be there for her for as long as his life lasts, even if she doesn’t allow it.

But it’s upon arrival he realizes how much more serious this is than he thought. She’s completely breaking down, every inch of her shaking and fear written on her face. She’s a complete and utter mess, a completely wrecked version of such a beautiful, unbroken woman who had so much love in her heart and surrounded by so much love in the air.

And even though Harry knows she believes she’s going to die, apart of him believes she’s already dead. The life inside of her has burned out and is now just a product of what once was. The Y/n he always known is long gone—so far gone he almost doesn’t believe it’s her.

He looks at her with the most distraught and sympathetic look Gabby has ever seen. She has never seen so much guilt in somebody before that—no matter how much she hates him—she can’t help but feel sorry for him, too.

“Baby, hey. Hey now, it’s alright.” He whispers, kneeling in front of Y/n’s shaking figure and tentatively reaching for her hair so that he can attempt to calm her down. “I’m here now, I’m right here.”

A pitiful sound leaves her lips when she looks up at him; something between a whine, a sob, and a groan. It’s messy from her throat being raw from all the screaming and cries, and it leaves an indescribable pain that only makes her cries stronger.

She can’t even think properly, everything in her body overworking itself. It’s something she’s never experienced before, and all the fears of it being permanent rush through her veins—leaving her with an overwhelming amount of anxiety.

“She’s having a panic attack.” Harry mumbles to Gabby, making sure to rub gently over the back of Y/n’s neck. Although panic attacks weren’t common for her, whenever she was overwhelmed and stressed, this gesture always seemed calmed her down.

“I don’t know what to do. I can’t drive with her like this I—Gabby, how do I focus with her like this?” He cries, the situation in front of him making his body turn to shambles, “Especially when it’s my fault? How do I—do I keep her here until she’s calm? I don’t—I don’t know—”

Gabby shakes her head, reaching her hand over to graze his tense shoulder. She squeezes the muscle softly, almost as a sort of reassurance.

“She needs home, Harry—” she whispers, “she needs you.

He nods, choking back sobs as he brushes the hair out of Y/n’s face. The skin of her face is red and completely soaked, but this is the first time he’s seen her since the morning in the grocery store, and she’s never looked so beautiful.

“I’m going to take you home with me, Y/n. But I need you to breathe for me, can you do that?” He asks, holding her face delicately between his hands, “Breathe with me.”

Y/n sucks in a deep breath when Harry inhales deeply, attempting to rid all the anxiety and pain settling inside of her. Her inhale is broken between hiccups and cries, but as she keeps eye contact with him as she tries to calm down, a little part of her feels revived.

“It hurts.” She whimpers between sobs, referring to the pain in her chest and the throbbing in her head that just can’t seem to heal.

She watches as Harry’s face scrunches with an agonizing cry, and she knows he’s aware of exactly what she’s talking about. She’s been brokenhearted for so long, she doesn’t even think he’s the least bit shocked when she tells him her heart is hurting.

“I know, baby. I know.” He whispers as he kisses her forehead gently. “Let’s get you home, yeah? Make you feel better?”

And as much as she wants to hate him, or yell at him for everything he’s done to her and make him understand just how much of her life he’s ruined, she genuinely feels like her body is going to collapse at any given moment. She needs him, even if it’s just for right now, she has to just focus on everything happening in the now. Harry’s come back to her and she’s about to go back home.

Because if she doesn’t think about the present moment—Harry holding her, Harry kissing her, Harry about to take the both of them back to their house—she’ll never find a way to fix herself. She’ll be stuck in this anxiety and pain for far too long—so long that it could actually kill her.

So she closes her eyes, only focusing on his touch and his breath fanning over her wet face. She forgets the t-shirt, she forgets all the times he’s ignored her after declaring them to take a break, and she forgets about Jessica. At least for right now, she can focus on all that tomorrow.

She nods, and it’s then Harry notices how much more calm she is. Although she’s still crying and still incapable of speaking much from the aching in her throat, she’s breathing properly again and her once undying sobs have turned into soft whimpers.

He leans in so that he can properly wrap his arms around her, hooking one hand on her back and the other under her knees. There’s no way in hell she’s capable of walking—not like this, and in all honesty, he would much rather hold her now than leave her side for another second.

It’s when Y/n is being held so close to him again that the aching in her chest seems to almost vanish completely. And although there is still a weight on top of her lungs, and still a slight uncomfortableness in her heart, she’s finally able to breathe again.

“I’m gonna make this all better, okay? I promise you, gonna fix you.” He mumbles with his lips against her hairline, making sure to keep rubbing the back of her neck softly.

It’s a promise he intends on keeping—a promise he never plans on breaking again. He could never live with himself if he were to keep putting her through all of this pain. She’s the most undeserving person—he knows that—and he knows she’s too pure to go through all that she’s been through the past couple of months.

The car ride is completely silent, only Y/n’s cries and small sniffles filling the empty space. Although she still isn’t completely calm, she’s improved so much since he first came to pick her up and it is able to keep his mind at ease. At least while he drives.

And he doesn’t miss her hand sneaking over the console to intertwine her fingers with his. He doesn’t expect it but he also doesn’t mind it. If anything, it makes him feel better just as much as it does her.

When they pull up to the driveway of their once shared house, every bit of composure she’s withheld in her body is breaking down by the second. Her strength is wearing thin, and knowing she’ll be reuniting in the house where Y/n and Harry once had everything makes her more afraid than ever.

Harry notices her sudden shift in mood and doesn’t hesitate to unbuckle himself from his seat and walk around the car to where her exhausted figure is sobbing, slumped against the passenger seat. He sighs meekly before unbuckling her, as well, and lifting her against him the way he had before.

“Hey there, s’alright, I’m here. We’ll work this out, but you need to sleep first, yeah? Looking very pale and I know you well enough to see you’ve been lacking sleep.”

Although they both know Y/n isn’t going to respond, she wants to continue listening to him speak. It’s something she hasn’t heard in so long, and she wouldn’t even care if he was talking about the goddamn weather, she just wants to hear him again.

He keeps talking, too, because he notices the effects of his voice on her anxiety and how the muscles in her body relax under his words. He’ll stop at nothing to make sure she’s okay again, even if it means having a one-sided conversation.

“You know how you are, too—grumpy and sensitive when you’re tired. Almost take my head off if you don’t get more than seven hours. Remember that one time at my mum’s Christmas dinner party? Barely slept the night before from wrapping so many gifts that you genuinely got upset with me for not knowing your favorite alcoholic beverage.” He chuckles softly. “Funny lil thing.“

Through the nonstop crying and the frown that hasn’t left Y/n’s lips in what feels like an eternity, the first smile stretches from her lips. It’s the smallest closed mouth smile he’s ever seen, but it’s there, and it’s the most genuine feeling of happiness she’s had in so long.

When Harry unlocks the door, he wastes no time making his way over to their couch. He knows very well that she wouldn’t want to sleep on their bed, considering she’s well aware of what he did with Jessica on that bed and he wants no reason to upset her any further.

He sets her down in front of the couch, petting the top of her head softly before gathering a blanket and a pillow for her to sleep on.

He sets it up like a bed, almost, before turning to leave so that she can have her privacy. He doesn’t think she’d want to sleep with him, so he decides to sleep in the guest bedroom since he knows she’d always pick the living room couch over that room.

But before he gets too far, Y/n weakly captures his fingers in hers, pulling him back towards her.

His head snaps down to her finger, noticing the rose ring being worn beautifully on her middle finger. He almost chokes when he sees it on her, eyes wide and lips slightly parted in half confusion and half in awe.

“Please,” she whimpers, “stay.”

He snaps out of his trance at her words, slowly nodding his head as a small “of course” falls from his lips.

He lays comfortably on the couch, looking up at her when he finds a position where she can lay beside him.

“If you want you can take the—alright” he huffs.

His eyes narrow as he watches her lay on top of him—fully on top of him; her cheek nesting right where his shoulder meets his neck as her arms slither around his sides until her hands meet under his back. Her legs tangle perfectly in between his, and in any other circumstance, this probably wouldn’t have been an ideal sleeping position for the either of them. But Y/n is exhausted, both physically and mentally, and she feels this is the only position she can sleep.

Harry doesn’t mind, and easily ignores the subtle uncomfortableness in his back as he wraps his arms securely around her frame.

Although Y/n is already fast asleep on top of it, he’s unsure how he can close his eyes for longer than a blink. This could be the last chance he has to be with her in this way. He’s unsure what tomorrow holds for the both of them and their relationship—it could end entirely or create an entirely new beginning.

With the possibilities almost endless against their favor, he doesn’t want to miss a second of what could be the last of her in his life. So, he embraces the feeling of her tight hold, the little puddle of drool on the shoulder of his t-shirt, and the tickle on his chin from her loose strands of hair, because this could be the last time he feels all of that.

But he also can’t help but feel that small bit of hope still latching onto him. That somewhere—deep down—he knows they belong to each other for the rest of their lives. And that, maybe, if the universe decides that their relationship should end tomorrow, he knows destiny will find a way for the both of them again.

So, he holds her a little tighter, breathes her in a little harsher, and soaks up all the extra warmth in her body, and prays that everything will be okay.

Viral

Summary: The Ladyblog catches a private moment and Marinette is furious.

This story can also be found on FF.net and AO3.

The video was uploaded sometime after midnight early Saturday morning.  

As was usually the case after an akuma attack, Alya Cesaire had been running on a caffeine rush and adrenaline high that made sleep impossible.  The dedicated blogger would not see the back of her eyes until her copy was written, her files rendered, and her newest masterpiece was live for the entire world to see.

Or at least the majority of Paris.  She was young yet.

Fortunately for the aspiring journalist, the Ladyblog’s wide and devoted readership ensured that the hits would rack up quickly regardless of the time of posting.

What no one could have anticipated, however, was just how quickly.

It started with the local news.

Nadja Chamack’s bright-eyed good morning Paris grin punctuated the more somber news of floods, akumas, and politics with the light-hearted clip.  The segment usually reserved for heartwarming fluff pieces about eye-seeing dogs and neighborhood bake sales was instead taken over by the city’s most reliable ratings machine.

Ladybug and Chat Noir were television gold.

From there the clip hit the major news networks and was being broadcast to the whole of France. Then came the talk shows, the copycat blogs, the online articles, Buzzfeed, and more.  When the video hit the front page of Reddit there was no stopping the infection.

By the time Monday morning rolled around, less than three days after the akuma attack and the video going live, Chat Noir had become the laughing stock of Paris, the Internet, and the world.

And Marinette Dupain-Cheng was absolutely furious.

Keep reading

let’s just talk for a moment here. 

I’m gonna say itLena Luthor loves Kara Danvers. loves her. and there are soooo many reasons why. 

first, let’s just list the reasons off the bat, then I’ll explain my reasonings. 

  • donuts
  • lip bites/glances/looks
  • the thirst factor
  • food dates
  • meeting Alex
  • gala
  • flowers
  • her heroics
  • “I’ve never stood behind a man” 
  • “I’m here for you, if you still want that”
  • “I miss you”
  • “I didn’t see your name on the by line”/ “unquit”
  • “I trust you”/Catco
  • heart emoji

ok let’s get started:

first, the doughnuts.

 lena is known for eating healthy. she drinks kombucha. she gets kara to probably eat vegetables. y’know the regular. probably is on a no carb diet. we never see her eating anything bad, because she’s probably been preened all her life to be picture perfect and eat only what’s good for you. but here comes her bff, her gal pal kara danvers, traipsing in with a bag of doughnuts. this happened a couple times, actually. lena indulged in a doughnut for kara. 

the lip bites, holy fuck. I’m going to tie this in with the glances too. because holy mother of god. 

lena is always checking kara out, biting her lip (most likely surprising moans bc hot damn she’s in love with this woman) and the looks. the looks of. pure. unadulterated. love. 

I mean you cannot tell me the look on lena’s face is anything but love? come on. even a blind man could tell. 

next, lena’s thirst factor. 

girl, she is always, always, (almost) always seen with a drink when around kara! 

exhibit A: their first meeting, lena has to pause and get herself a damn glass of water

exhibit B: granted, yes they’re at a restaurant, but lena’s got an almost empty glass, bc hot damnvers kara is something. (lets take in account that kara’s glass is empty)

exhibit C: in the most recent episode 3.01, lena is yet again, shown pouring herself some water bc girl is thirsty af 

exhibit D: oh looky here, Lena’s getting a drink. I am pretty sure Kara just makes her speechless and she needs water to talk

exhibit E: y’all see where I’m going with this, right?

their brunch/lunch/dinner/kombucha dates

lena always seems to have a food date with kara. always. I mean it’s one thing to have one on occasion but they’re known to have these? and I know damn well that kara isn’t always the one to initiate them. lena is probably the one to invite her because she’s rich and offers to feed kara’s immense appetite. 

what about the first time lena was introduced to Alex properly?

this. this is the face of jealousy. she shows up unannounced at kara’s apartment (where’d she even get kara’s address?) and sees this beautiful woman in kara’s apartment and she’s jealous af, and Alex doesn’t let on anything. doesn’t, for a split second, let on that she’s kara’s sister, because I’m pretty sure she knew what Lena’s thoughts were. she knew for a flash of a second, lena was actually jealous, but ew gross, kara is her sister, and that’s when kara finally speaks up, and Lena’s face softens, and she remembers what she actually came over for… 

the gala

she invites, not only kara and supergirl to the gala, but kara’s man friend, mike of the interns, because she doesn’t care. if kara’s friends with this person, she figures she can trust this person too, who tf cares if you met them five seconds ago and could’ve easily told him “It’s an elite party, and I’m inviting kara as my plus one, sorry” but no, she extends an invitation to mike of the interns…

the flowers: plumerias

these are plumerias, for anyone who hasn’t seen them before. they come in all different colors, ranging from blues, pinks, purples, melon, peach, yellow and white. they are an exotic flower, and a bit hard to come by. they have to be imported, usually from Hawaii. they have a few different meanings, but in Chinese, they symbolize love. they mean “I love you” and “you are special” 

and kara’s office, just so happens to be overflown with flowers, most likely plumerias because she mentioned they remind her of her mother, and lena would totally import those flowers and fill her office as a thank you to saving her just because she loves kara. and you know damn well she knows what those flowers mean. she’s smart, we’ll touch on this fact later.

lena being a hero

she is.. its a fact. whether it’s supergirl or kara danvers’s hero, national city’s hero, or anyone’s hero, lena is a hero. 

lena chooses kara and being the hero and will always choose kara and being the hero. when it came to saving jack or saving supergirl, she chose kara over her ex-lover. and we can probably assume that because a) lena is young and b) lena is a luthor, jack was probably her only real relationship. she did love him, you could tell with the emotion from the kiss and even the relaxed-ness of her date with him, they were friends. and she did miss is company, though she wouldn’t date him again. yet then it comes to kara, as supergirl, and she has to choose whether to save jack or end his life to save national city’s hero. she chooses to let jack go, therefore ultimately killing him so she can save kara. she also saves kara’s man child boyfriend from the evil daxamite guard. by shooting him with an alien gun. and she and Winn made whatever that thing was under the table at the gala and it stopped those evildoers from attacking supergirl, and the kicker, my favorite, saving the whole population of national city, not once, but fucking twice.

in s2e8 lena, after finding out her mother is the ringleader of CADMUS, and kara ultimately yells at her and accuses her of knowing what her mother did, etc, still saves national city. she undermines her mother, weasels her way onto her mother’s good side, double-crosses her and makes the medusa virus inert, therefore saving national city’s population of aliens when the only friend she had hated her for the moment. she could’ve easily just given in and killed all the aliens, but she didn’t. she chose to save them because she loves kara and her pro-alien bleeding heart views, even when they sometimes disagree and fight. 

and then again in s2e22, lena, and with the help of Lillian, build a device to rid the planet of the daxamites invading earth. a device that sends out lead into the atmosphere. and she knows what it’ll do. she knows that it’s going to send Mon-el away, and you know she was lowkey happy about that, but she knows it’ll put kara through hell, yet she let’s kara make the ultimate decision to choose whether to go on with it, and kara does. supergirl tells them to use the device. and lena yet again, saves everyone, all because she loves kara and kara is her hero.

and let’s not forget the best time lena was a hero and shot Corbin, therefore saving none other than Special Agent Alex Danvers with the DEO… hot damn, she’s my hero.

lena’s never stood behind a man

*eh hem* I’ll just leave these here. two examples of lena never standing behind a man, because she’s independent and fierce, but Kara is always protecting her and she lets kara/supergirl. we know damn well lena can hold her own, she is a Luthor after all, but she lets kara take the forefront and she stands behind her with grace and poise and love and admiration. 

“I’m here for you, if you still want that”

Lena knows the hell kara is going through. she knows that kara lost her man child thing of a boyfriend she liked for five days. and kara is going through hell. and yet, she’s still cautious. I think this is one of the most significant things ever and we’re going to dissect for a second here. in the second image: kara tells lena “I’m right here” letting lena know she can talk to her and she wants her to, she’s almost willing her to. 

yet in the top image, lena adds the “if you still want that”. she is letting kara know a few things here. a) that she feels guilty over the lead being released in the atmosphere b) she doesn’t want to use kara, because she’s not a talker herself. her walls are always built up so sturdy until kara breaks them down with her super strength and c) she doesn’t want to lose kara. she’s letting her know she’s there if kara wants her because its kara’s choice. she’s not going to force kara into being her friend just because kara is the only friend she has in national city and she will be ready to help kara any way she needs when the time comes. 

“I miss you” 

this also follows with the “if you still want that” because she’s telling kara that she’s being ignored, but she’s not pushing. she knows that kara is distancing herself. but she still lets kara know in a subtle way that she’s still here, she still loves her and that she truly misses her best friend. she just misses her. she misses Kara Danvers, the girl she’s falling in love with more and more as each day passes.

“I didn’t see your name on the by line”/”unquit”

now, first off, kara does anything lena suggests. Lena suggests, she become a reporter and guess who becomes one? Kara. lena tells her in such an unprofessional manner to “unquit” her job. and according to my laptop, unquit isn’t even a word, yet it came out of poised, perfect, prestined Lena Luthor’s mouth. “unquit” 

so kara unquits, and lena sends a heart emoji

a red heart emoji. man, do I have some words about this. Lena, you little lesbian in love with your bestie, damn. lena could’ve easily replied back with a “okay” or “sounds great” or even a “see you tomorrow!” or if we’re going the emoji route: a smiley face, a thumbs up, or fuck idk, a yellow heart? because lena is very, very, very smart. and we all know she knows the meanings that colors represent. like how yellow means happiness, friendship, sunshine, and energy, yet miss luthor sent kara a red heart. red meaning love, passion, heat. you can’t tell me she doesn’t know what they meant. she could’ve replied with so many different ways, yet she chooses a red heart.

and lets not forget the last points: lena buys fricken catco–– “I trust you”

lena “I bought your job for you and I have no fucking idea how to run catco” luthor bought a multimillion dollar corporation so a sexist bottle of cheap cologne couldn’t and she has literally no idea how to run the company, yet she’s enlisting and trusting her best friend and the woman she likes to run it with her. she bought kara a company. because kara asked and she 

lena just dropped everything, and potentially could ruin her career for this woman, and she did it all out of love. 

she even admits to not even knowing how to run the place! yet, just because kara asked, she did it. kara says “jump” and lena asks “how high”. the girl will do anything for the woman she loves. 


anyway, so those are my thoughts and reasonings as to why I believe lena is in love with kara. you can agree or disagree, leave your opinions if you like, but if you’re anti-supercorp please do not leave your opinion. 


*please note: gifs and pictures are NOT mine and I will not take credit for them, I simply borrowed them from the internet. also I stg if the gifs don’t load I will cry, I don’t know if they actually will, let’s hope.

edit: none of the gifs loaded I hate everything… oh fucking well, you get my point and y’all probably know what each gif is a scene of anyway… fml

Moving on After Fred Weasley Passes Away - Headcanon/Would Include

Warnings: This broke my heart to write):


  • You wouldn’t cry much towards the beginning. Of course when the news hit a barricade of tears fell freely but after that, you learned how to bottle it all up. Everything was so unreal you weren’t even sure if it what was real anymore.
  • Fred was your best friend, your other half, the love of your life.
  • After the Battle of Hogwarts you’d travel back to the Burrow with the Weasley’s.
  • He was buried shortly after the Battle. His casket was a sleek black color and shined in the rain that fell. You placed a flower on the top of his casket and choked on a shaky sob. George stood behind you and his hand found it’s way into yours, giving you a squeeze of reassurance as he cried with you. You had never felt more lost in your life. Your fingers twiddled with the diamond band wrapped around your finger. It felt more like a piece of mockery, there to remind you everyday of what you could now never have.
  • Molly spent an entire week in the twins’ bedroom. She didn’t talk, hardly ate, just stared blankly at the wall next to Fred’s bed. He had pictures of his Hogwarts adventures taped to the wall and she had memorized every prospect of the photos so much she couldn’t rid the image from her brain when she closed her eyes, but she didn’t want to forget.
  • At the end of the week George entered his and Fred’s bedroom for the first time since the Battle. He spent an hour talking to his mother. You never did find out what he said, but you remember the burning visual of Molly exiting the room with reddened eyes full of heartbreak.
  • Ginny spent the nights sleeping in her room with you and cuddled against your chest, silently weeping to herself. Your presence made her feel close to her late brother, like he had never actually left.
  • George, Molly, and you would clean out Fred’s half of the room. It was full of tears and once happy now sad memories. Like the large maroon tie blanket you had made for Fred on your anniversary. Or the book on Magical Creatures that Fred had stolen on accident in Diagon Alley while he spied on you from behind a bookcase. You were shopping for all your school supplies and the redhead had torn from his family, catching glimpse of you in the robes shop and managed to follow you two stores later not wanting to leave you. You eventually caught him as he tripped over a pile of books, the binds of knowledge cascading to the floor with a crash. You smiled and helped him up while introducing yourself. The rest was history.
  • Arthur stood in the doorway of the room watching the three of you clean. Deep aging wrinkles indented his forehead making him appear older than he really was. His face was long, drowning in sorrow. He didn’t say a word, just watched.
  • Ginny cried alone in her room. Harry tried to comfort her but his success was no avail. She locked herself away for three days, lost in a sea of depression.
  • Ron turned to Harry and Hermione who welcomed him with open arms. He was the first to open up after his older brother’s death.
  • You stayed at the Burrow for a almost three weeks before flying to France. You choice was rash but you needed to get away. Molly understood and wished you well. You didn’t know how long you would be gone but you hoped it would give you some time to come to terms with the heartbreak you were experiencing.
  • Fred used to tell you when you were in school together that he always dreamed of going to France. He never knew why. He was rubbish at speaking French and had no idea how he’d survive, but it was a dream of his.
  • Percy, Bill, and Charlie all stayed at the Burrow for a month or so. Their hearts ached at the lose of their younger brother.
  • George… George no longer felt like himself. It was as if a part of himself was missing, torn from his soul. He dragged through the day’s, closing down the shop for a while. After spending two weeks at the Burrow he moved back to the apartment above Weasley Wizard Wheezes that Fred and him shared. The second he walked through the door he broke down. Tears splashed against his cheeks as he finally let all his emotions pour out. He called you, practically begging you to keep him company.
  • Of course you obliged and flew back home immediately. You lived with Fred in the apartment too. It was your home as well and you had been putting off going back to the apartment as much as possible. The home held so many items from your past involving Fred and you. Where he proposed to you, where you had you first blow up fight, where you had you first time together, where you had the million of talks about your future together, and so much more.  
  • This made Molly feel a little better when she heard you would be staying with George for a while. She hated the thought of George being all along right after losing his best friend, his twin, his other half.
  • You left France still clutching a box full of Fred’s belonging. A heavy feeling invaded your heart. You took a train to London after landing then joined George at the shop.
  • The minute the door swung open George’s arms were thrown around your frame as he pulled you into a tight embrace. The barrier you had been working so hard to uphold, crumbled at his touch. Not because you felt you could finally let go of all the emotions being kept inside. No, you cried because George’s embrace reminded you of Fred’s. The way his hold tighten as you sobbed mirrored Fred’s actions identically. Your chest ached as you came to realize you future with Fred was gone. George’s salty tears splashed on the crown of your head.
  • The first week barely any words at all were exchanged. You would mumble a small ‘good morning’ to each other during breakfast but that was usually it.
  • George spent the days in his room and the nights at a bar across the street. This continued on for a week until you confronted him. You waited up all night, worried sick. He stumbled in around three in the morning, eyes brimming red, breath stenching strong from alcohol.
  • “George Weasley, what the hell?” You would screeched. His eyes snapped up at you resembling a deer caught in headlights. His gazed quickly fell to the floor as he shut the house door and brushed past you. You yelled after him making him halt in his path,
  • “George pease just talk to me! I know this is hard for you, believe me I do. He was your brother. You two have never been apart so I can’t even begin to imagine what you’re going through. George I’m here for you and you can talk to me because I lost him too. You did everything with Fred, you two started this business together and we both know he just wants you to be happy again. Please… just try, George. Try for me, try for Fred. Please. I just want to be here for you. If there’s something I did. If you hate me-” Your voice broke at the end and your knees gave up. Crashing to the floor a echoing cry invaded the air. George stood motionless watching you fall apart before his eyes. He could almost hear Fred scolding him and urging him to act. Fred would want George to comfort you, Fred would want you two to be there for each other.
  • George hesitantly crossed the room and bent to your level. His hand reached out, brushing a strand of messy hair from your face. Glancing up at him you started in to question him but George beat you around the bush. He seemed half sobered up and shook his head.
  • “Y/n… it’s not you, I swear. You’re the most purest human being in the entirety of the world, please don’t think that way. Every moment you and Fred were together I could never shake that from my mind, how perfect you are. But god Y/n every time I see you I think of my brother. He loved you more than anything in this world and I know he would hate me right now for not being there for you. I feel like I’ve let him down and that hurts more than anything. I see Fred everytime I look in the mirror, everytime I see the pictures on the fridge, everytime I walk into the shop, everytime I come home and everytime I see you.”
  • His words took you by storm but for once, it made sense. You had been sleeping in Fred and your bed, helping start the shop back up (mainly by yourself), and it probably didn’t help that you had been stealing items of Fred’s clothing, just wanting to be close to him again. For the first time since the Battle, you admitted the burden you’d been holding inside.
  • “I wish I could’ve saved him. If I wasn’t distracted by the helping that student- if I would have been paying more attention to Fred… he’d still be here.” You quivered. George’s eye soften and he shook his head.
  • “Y/n you know no one could’ve stopped what happen. I’ve spent every night laying awake wondering if I could’ve changed something. I’m not sure what god planned this, or if there even is one, but Y/n we had no control over this.” His arms locked around you pulling you against his chest. His lips planted against your forehead sweetly covering you in a blanket of comfort.
  • You spent the rest of the night in George’s arm. You shared memories of Fred, some sweet, some funny, and some that made you cry again.
  • “Remember the time the two of you enchanted endless snowballs to pelt, well technically, Voldemort in the face and Quill in the back of the head?” You giggled into the glass of cherry red wine you held to your lips. George leaned into the cushion of the couch and shook his head with a smile. 
  • “Classic!”
  • George spent the night in Fred and your bed- to keep you company of course.
  • He kept you company for the rest of the nights to follow
  • The two of you began to drift into a weird zone
  • You had always lightly fancied George but it was Fred you loved.
  • He would randomly start bringing you home flowers and other small gifts
  • Some days George would come home to find a bundled up new sweater placed on his work desk. You always claimed the things you bought him were on sale so you just couldn’t resist but George knew better
  • A strong connection was growing and it confused you- George too. You wanted another shot at happiness but you weren’t sure if you were ready yet until another vacant Friday night rolled around and you found yourself laying on the couch in George’s arm talking about the week and before you knew it he was leaning forward.
  • The first time you kissed George you screwed your eyes shut tightly and imagined his lips as Fred’s. You knew it was horrible but you had no clue what else to do. It was like you were cheating on your fiance- your dead fiance, with his twin brother. But when you realized it was George, you didn’t entirely hate it. It was actually quite a fulfilling kiss. A part from inside of you warmed up for the first time in a long time.
  • George had a sickening vibe settling in the pit of his stomach after he pulled back. His heart sped up at the newfound affection the kiss brought although kissing you made him feel like he was betraying his brother. Fred planned to marry you for Merlin’s sake and there George was, making out with his dead twin’s girlfriend.
  • But you kissed him again the next day and he didn’t pull away
  • And the next
  • And the one after that too
  • Kissing you made George think of his brother. Fred loved you and George could understand why. Kissing you, sleeping beside you, comforting you, it all made George feel as if he was somehow growing closer to his twin.
  • At first your relationship with George was based solely on the fact that he was identical to your late lover but as time passed on George made you feel differently than Fred did. Despite you never thinking it was possible, George taught you how to laugh again. He would slowly crack back into his prankster self again. It took his almost a full year after Fred’s passing to invent a new product for the shop or even enter the store for more than passing to get to the apartment. He tested out the product on you during breakfast one morning. Pouring a lilac solution into the base of your black coffee and giving it a swirl, George carried on with breakfast as if nothing had happen. Dragging in, you hugged George from behind before taking a seat at the nook. You instantly sipped on the brewed mixture in front of you and spit it out in shock as the odd flavor set in.
  • George howled in laughed and bent over the kitchen stove pointing towards you. Furrowing your eyebrows you set the mug down and spoke up agitated,
  • “George what the hell did you put in- oh my god!”
  • You realized the change in tone quickly and covered your face in embarrassment. Your voice was as deep as a well making you sound similar to that of a male that had spent over half his life heavily smoking. George rushed over and planted a kiss to your cheek.
  • “It worked!” Although you were thoroughly ticked off at his choice of targeting you, you were happy he was back to his old ways. The bills were piling up by the second and the landlord wanted the shop either back up and running, or both of you to move out. Dumping your infected cup of coffee down the sink drain you started to make a new batch. Smiling to yourself you laughed softly,
  • “Well, I’m glad to have you back, George.”
  • That was only the beginning. George and you spent almost every moment inventing and creating new sale items. The first handful were absolute rubbish but it didn’t matter. Both of you were trying to get back in the swing of things and sometimes that took a while.
  • Within three months Weasley Wizard Wheezes was back up and running again.
  • Sales flooded in and shot straight through the roof steadily for a long term.
  • As a ‘thank you’ present for helping him get back on his feet George invited you out for a fancy meal out on the town.
  • You decided on a Muggle restaurant and dressed to the nines. George’s jaw skimmed the floor when you walked out of your room and slipped on your heels. He held your hand and escorted you out.
  • During dinner you had ntoiced how fidgety and nervous George was acting. You made the choice to question him on it over a glass of champagne right before the main course and he physically stiffened. Tilting his glass back, George chugged down the large intake and wiped his lips on the red amber napkin. His hands clasped together then unclasped at his side. His soft eyes found yours and he darted them back down to the tablecloth.
  • “It’s just- well, Y/n… what are we?”
  • It would get silent very fast and he would instantly fill it.
  • “What I mean is, I like you… I like you a lot but I know how you felt about my brother. I saw the glint in your eyes that would sparkle whenever you saw him and how happy you two were together and Y/n I want to be able to make you as happy as Fred did. With that being said I don’t want you to be with me because I remind you of him or because you can’t stop thinking about Fred. I’m not gonna lie at the start of our, uh, relationship I was hanging out with you because you made me think of Fred but all those late nights and million cups of coffee have made me realize the truth. I love you Y/n- and not because you dated my brother. I love you for you and I think I have for a very long time. What I’m asking is… Y/n would you um, like to be my girlfriend?”
  • You cried, a lot. George’s heart broke at the sight only confirming the love swelling in his heart. His feelings were genuine and it warmed your soul. You lunged across the table knocking over the bread bowl in the process and threw your arms around George’s frame.
  • “Of course I will! Oh my god, George. You’re making me cry like a bloody fool!”
  • George called his mother the second you got home. Molly was hit with a wave of shock at first. She gave both of you long speeches trying to inspect if the love was real or a mask to feign the hurt of bonding over the lose of Fred. She demanded both of you come home to the Burrow for the week so you did and the moment she looked into both of your eyes, it was clear as crystal.
  • “Good lord you are in love!”
  • It was hard for the rest of the Weasley family to accept at first. You understood completely since you had the same weary, unsure feeling as well but eventually they came to accept it. They were all happy to you and George happy once again.
  • But as happy as you were, small memories with Fred would constantly pop up.
  • Like one night when George and you were lying in bed together whispering softly realization would settle in and you’d comment,
  • “This is where he proposed. We were lying right here when Fred asked me to marry him.”
  • You knew how horrid it was to put this on George but you had no control. George thought about this all the time and was reminded of your relationship with his brother at every corner he turned.
  • You would then apologize feeling god awful for saying such a thing but George would hush you saying,
  • “It’s alright Y/n. Just because he’s not around anymore and because we’re together now doesn’t mean we have to pretend he was never alive or your relationship with him didn’t exist. He loved you, and I know how much you love him. I’m not upset- actually I’m more than thankful my brother managed to snag a girl like you. You two were perfect together and he will always love you just like how you will always love him. Fred… he is… was my brother and for a long time I thought he would hate me for me being with you and for a long time I thought my heart tricked me into loving you. That maybe it wasn’t love I was feeling but rather so the relationship my brother and I had and maybe because he loved you so much, being with you would make me feel less lonely about losing him but I know the truth. I love you, Y/n. Hell, maybe I always have but the important thing is I love you now and I will love you tomorrow and I will continue to love you years from now and that’s not because of Fred, it’s because of you and who you are. I love you.”
  • You two learned how to live your life no longer feeling guilty for the love you shared. Fred smiled down his heart warming at seeing his two favorite people in the world relying on each other and sharing a piece of their heart together.
  • He proposed to you in the middle of a busy work day right as you were restocking a shelf. The rest of his family were there to see. Molly, Hermione and Ginny cried a river while the boys patted George on the back. On your wedding day the tears were never ending, though happy ones.
  • You two eventually moved to London- kept the shop but decided you needed more room, well of course your growing stomach demanded that. One cold night in the middle of December George and you were blessed with the birth of your first son, Fred ll. He had a head of wicked red hair and a small mischievous smile toying on his face and you had never felt more complete in your life. George planted a kiss to your head muttering a string of ‘thank yous’. You knew in your heart this was exactly where you were meant to be.

- Daizy xx

I want a Marauders series.

I want an 11 year old Sirius Black finally entering Platform 9 ¾, finally escaping from his unloving family, with a look of hope and fear of what’s next to come in his eyes. I want a misunderstood Remus Lupin entering the train, scared of what might happen if anyone finds out his secret, scared he might not fit in just like at home. I want a little Peter Pettigrew, awkwardly walking through the station, anxious about making friends and starting this whole new chapter of his life. I want a fearless James Potter, excited for the new adventures ahead, ambitious and eager to find his new group of friends waiting for him on that train. I want the four of them finding no open compartments on the train and agreeing to sit with each other for the ride, unaware of the brotherhood that was just born. 


I want Remus coming back after his first full moon at school, new scars etched in his skin, scared to face anyone’s questions. I want Sirius telling Remus that whoever did that to him wont see the light of day, and Remus breaking down, ashamed to tell his new friends what a monster he is. I want Sirius, James and Peter all reminding Remus every single day that he is far from a monster, and that they love him for who he is. I want Sirius illegally learning how to turn into his animagus forms so that he can stay with Remus during his transformations and make sure he makes it out okay. I want the three boys skipping classes to stay with Remus after a rough full moon, snuggled up in front of the fire with chocolate frogs and pumpkin juice. I want McGonagall to find the four boys asleep in their common room, but let them off with a pass because she could see Remus’s new scars and the loving arms of the other boys protectively around him (and because she’s had a sweet spot for those boys from the day she met them).

I want James desperately trying to win over miss Lily Evens, the girl with a heart far more fiery than her bright red hair. I want Lily constantly shutting him down, keeping her admiration for him to herself. I want Peter trying to befriend her in hopes that he could introduce her into the group, then feeling bad and eventually just telling her how much James talks about her and how she should give him a chance. I want Sirius teasing the HELL out of James when he comes back from his first date with a lipstick stain on his cheek (which Lily left on purpose, fully aware of the torture that would come).I want James spoiling the crap out of his best friends, especially Sirius. I want 5 hour Quidditch practices, James wanting nothing more than to just go to his room and sleep, but alas, Sirius is waiting for him with another one of his “great” ideas that he’s been working on. I want the three boys being as obnoxious as humanly possible at all of James’s Quidditch games, and James secretly loving it. 

I want Sirius shamelessly flirting with all the first years, and Remus looking at him with jealous eyes. I want Sirius pulling Remus aside at random points during the day (especially when he can see that look in his eyes) and reminding him that he’ll always be his number one Moony. I want Sirius randomly coming up with nicknames for his friends, names that only they could have the honor of using. I want him turning into a dog to avoid responsibility (and to mess with Snap on occasion). I want Sirius to get furious when James would decide to hang out with Lily instead of him, but grow to love her like a sister. I want other Gryffindors to lose their shit because “Black, shut tHE HELL UP ITS 4 IN THE MORNING”. I want a loyal Sirius always standing up for his friends, even if he knows their wrong. I want McGonagall accidentally calling Sirius “Mr. Potter” because of his closeness with the Potter family, and refusing to take it back once she sees the look of pure joy in his eyes, because for once in his life, Sirius Black has a family who loves him. 

I want Peter stealing chocolate from the Great Hall after dinner to sneak up to Remus on a full moon. I want him being too awkward to talk to the Ravenclaw he has a crush on and needing Sirius to be his wingman. I want him defying all odds and doing whatever it takes to help his friends, including stealing some wolfs bane for Remus from Herbology class. I want Peter getting picked on by the older students, and then James and Sirius have a “talk” with them and comforting their little Wormtail. I want sleepless nights, wondering into the kitchen and snacking on pastries until morning. I want Peter the Peacemaker, always there to be the unbiased opinion in any argument the other three got into. I want Peter, little scared Peter, to finally find a place where he isn’t just “scared little Peter”. I want Peter finding his place along side his best friends (brothers, rather) and learning how to open up, and be as courageous as his heart, because he knows that even if he falls, he’ll have three amazing people waiting to catch him. 


I want birthday parties. I want James going above and beyond, decorating the whole Gryffindor Tower, getting tons of gifts, making the cakes, the whole 10 yards. I want Sirius crying during his first birthday at Hogwarts because he’s never had anyone make such a fuss over him (and he’ll never let James stop making such a fuss over him). I want Peter eating the cake before the party even began, and James trying so hard to be mad but failing because Peter is basically his little brother. I want James almost forgetting about his own birthday until he walks into the common room where Remus, Sirius and Peter are all standing with stupid grins, surrounded by balloons and colorful potions (and of course Lily, much to James’ surprise). I want Sirius beating the crap out of anyone who dares comment on Remus’ scars, and James beating the living day light out of anyone who comments on Sirius’ home life. I want Peter being there to comfort Remus and Sirius while this is all happening, assuring Remus that he is no monster, and telling Sirius he is nothing like his family. I want all four boys staying up night after night creating the Marauders Map, the map that they sign their honorary nicknames to, and swear will make them legends one day. I want them coming up with the most epic pranks, even going as far as to prank the teachers (except Minny, of course). I want detention after detention, sitting in classrooms or polishing trophies or doing dirty work for different professors, each of the four boys looking at each other with mischievous smiles. I want James showing the boys some new potions his dad created, or his new invisibility cloak that they can use for their epic pranks.

I want all four of these boys meeting on the train every year, in the same compartment, planning the year ahead of them, escaping from reality. I want James Potter, Peter Pettigrew, Sirius Black, and Remus Lupin, all finding hope and belonging and worth within each other. I want Prongs, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Moony. I want to hear their story. 


inspiration: @alessiajontrunfio, @siriuslestrange, @euphemiapottcr, @jilylicious, @azkaabanter, @hpconversations, @marauderconvos, @marauders-guide-to-hogwarts i love all of your accounts, your posts gave me some inspiration for this lil thingy i did :)

anonymous asked:

Dr Who but each incarnation is swapped with one of their companions.

omg?? I love it??

The First Doctor: 

She’s not completely unfriendly, exactly, she just doesn’t have time for humans being idiots. In the right circumstances, she can actually be very warm. She loves history, which is lucky because her granddaughter Susan does too (they tell people Susan is her daughter, but even then it’s a bit of a stretch, human ages are weird). Of course, then two of Susan’s teachers follow her home one night, and next thing the Doctor knows she has a crotchety old history teacher and a handsome young science teacher on her spaceship with no way to get rid of them that isn’t morally questionable. 

Whoops? 

The humans help her lose some of her haughtiness. She leaves Susan in the 22nd century to become her own woman. 

Along the way and against her better judgement, she falls hopelessly for Ian Chesterton. He wants to stay with her forever, but she knows it would never work, and encourages him to go with John Foreman in the Dalek Time Machine to get back to his own time. 

Later, in other lives, she checks in on him occasionally. 

The Second Doctor:

The baby face is a problem. It takes a good twenty minutes on a lot of occasions to get anyone to take her seriously. On the bright side, a lot of Polly’s clothes fit her now. 

She finds a best friend in Scotsman Jamie McCrimmon, whose rather naive approach to futuristic technology is extremely refreshing, as is his unique insightfulness. 

After Ben and Polly leave them, they rescue Victoria, who Jamie is utterly taken with. Victoria is unsure about living a life so unsupervised by someone older and won’t listen to the Doctor’s insistence that she is in fact perfectly qualified to look after them all. 

She and Victoria spend a good many nights aboard the TARDIS talking about women’s history and the things to come for women in the future and how women act on other planets. Victoria is fascinated, occasionally horrified, and often quietly thrilled at the things she learns. 

It’s a shame to see her go, but all she ever wanted was a family and security, and the Doctor can’t provide that. 

They meet an eccentric man on a space station, with funny trousers and an obsession with the recorder. The Doctor and Jamie like him instantly, and invite him on board only to learn that the man had been considering stowing away if not invited. 

The Time Lords take her friends away from her. She is forced to regenerate and exiled to Earth, as punishment for her interference. 

The Third Doctor: 

Shrewd, passionately devoted to science, and not one to take kindly to interruptions or anyone trying to talk down to or even disagree with her, it’s a wonder the Doctor even gets hired by UNIT at all. But then again, beggars can’t be choosers. 

On the bright side, this fellow John Smith from Cambridge seems to be the one person around with an actual brain and not just a penchant for attacking first and thinking later. 

They’re friends instantly. Or, they are once she makes it perfectly clear that she is the cleverer of the two. The look on his face when he realises is a memory she’ll treasure forever. 

He eventually leaves to go back to his own research, upon realising she doesn’t need him. 

It’s a shame and she misses him, but then Jo Grant comes into her life. Despite an awful first impression, the two women are soon fiercely devoted to each other. Jo keeps going on about women having to stick together amongst all the army boys, and while the Doctor could usually not care less about gender politics, if it means Jo hangs around her more, then so be it. 

The Master turns up. It’s exhausting and exasperating and oh so much fun

Meanwhile, the Doctor’s told herself to not let herself fall for humans, after how much Ian hurt. But with Jo, it’s impossible not to. (Not that she hasn’t noticed the Brigadier’s lingering stares, or failed to appreciate him in his uniform. But he’s far too professional to ever do anything, and too trigger happy besides.) 

Jo is like sunshine and she’s always there and smiling and pressing herself against the Doctor out of fear or shock, until one day they’re in the supply closet of a spaceship and they’re kissing furiously instead of listening out for their pursuers. 

It’s wonderful, being with Jo. Until Clive Jones comes along, and the Doctor has to tell her to forget about her and marry the nice young man who can grow old with her and give her the life she wants. 

She drinks more champagne than she is proud of that night. 

Luckily, along comes Sarah Jane Smith, who is exactly the kind of human that the Doctor automatically adores. Inquisitive, sharp, and a vocal feminist. What a woman. 

Of course, then giant alien spiders happen, and it’s time for a change.  

The Fourth Doctor:

Or… not. Apparently, she’s doomed to be young, attractive, humanoid, and pale skinned throughout all her lives. There are worse fates, but she wouldn’t mind a little variety, frankly. And being so small is getting infuriating. 

Harry takes a long while to take her seriously, but once he does, he is steadfastly loyal. Sarah Jane takes the regeneration in stride for the most part. 

And after them, Leela, who is so strange and savage but so utterly charming in her honesty. They share a few kisses, but nothing more. 

Then comes Romana. A young Time Lord who looks older than her, is far taller than is sensible, and has an even more absurd grin. She can’t stand him, with his bragging about his grades and thinking he knows everything. 

She soon teaches him that experience wins every time. 

Of course, then he spots some pretty princess on Tara, and next thing she knows, the moment the whole Key To Time mess is sorted, Romana is now a less taller, less ridiculous, utterly beautiful Time Lady in her first regeneration. 

She tries to argue against what she can only consider body theft, or at least copying, but it is a relief to not have to crane her neck up to speak to her companion. 

Romana becomes a most dear friend. She’s missed being around someone like her, someone who understands. It makes it all the worse when she leaves, leaving the Doctor with only Adric and his incessant questions. 

The Fifth Doctor: 

There’s something about this body, a regality, that commands a little more respect than the ones before it, despite it following the pattern of her others. 

Adric’s questions exasperate her, while Tegan’s demands to be taken home are met with gentle requests for patience and promises of Heathrow airport, and this Traken prince she’s picked up is thankfully one of the most polite people she’s ever had in the TARDIS. Decent brain on him, too. 

Tegan’s smile sometimes makes her stomach do backflips. The Doctor ignores it. She’s learned her lesson. It’s almost a relief to see Tegan reach her breaking point and leave, except it isn’t, because for a long while it feels like a part of her is missing. 

Turlough is a curiosity, but a nice one who makes for surprisingly good company in the absence of the others. 

Perpugilliam Brown is a surprise. The Doctor remembers why she has tried to avoid America where possible in her travels. Americans are loud. But in the case of Peri, it involves shouting at the Master, and as such, the Doctor decides that Perpugilliam Brown can stay as long as she likes. 

Between the two of them and soon Erimem, uncrowned Pharaoh of Egypt, they make quite the team.  


The Sixth Doctor:

It’s about time! Finally, a more weathered model. Peri is surprised to say the least, and seems a little disappointed to lose out on her best friend who had until now looked a very similar age to her, but soon realises very little has changed. 

And now she lets the Doctor take care of her a bit better. Thank goodness for that! The maternal instincts in this body are absurdly strong, she has no idea what she would do if she couldn’t express them. 

Now, the borderline narcissistic but quietly lovable history professor she accidentally picks up some time after losing Peri is a trickier matter. Still, at least he shares her love for chocolate cake. 

The Seventh Doctor: 

Bright, bubbly, and able to get most people to like her within ten seconds. Now this is a regeneration she likes. Plus, her most impressive set of lungs yet. Handy, for calling companions who like to wander off. 

She tries to not encourage Ace’s use of explosives, but it’s difficult when she sees how genuinely happy they make the girl. She’s getting soft in her old age, she knows. 

Still, at least her brain makes up for it. She can out-think a computer, easily. The universe is her chessboard and she’ll do whatever the hell she pleases with it. 

The Eighth Doctor: 

She’s a jolly thing. Always keen for adventure, ready to shout at anyone who deserves it, and just wants to have a good time, really. 

After a rather rocky start involving amnesia and kissing the cardiologist who had caused her regeneration in the first place, the Doctor is just minding her own business when she accidentally messes with history. 

It seems that saving this stowaway on the R101 might not have been the best idea after all. But he’s so charming and sweet and genuine, sharing her utter passion for life, that by the time she realises her mistake, she’s not willing to part with him. 

That goes… about as well as one might expect. 

The Ninth Doctor: 

It’s funny, being a weathered old war veteran with a guilty conscience, and simultaneously looking like someone who could be on the front of a magazine. 

Life is hard, after the time war, but she meets a man with big ears and blue eyes and things get better. A lot better. It feels good to smile again. 

The addition of Captain Jack Harkness is an interesting one, but she’s always said the more the merrier. Their other companion is not quite as happy about this development, but before long they’re the best of friends. 

The Tenth Doctor: 

She’s gentler now, somehow. Oh, she has her anger and her snark, and boy does this body have a set of lungs on her. But she’s so much softer, underneath. 

Losing her friends from her last body takes its toll. She at least manages to avoid comparing Martha to them that came before her. Martha is wonderful, always completing even the most impossible tasks that the Doctor puts to her. They part on good terms, after the Master’s ravaging of the Earth. (The Master had not been so impressed with this version of her. He had trouble seeing the strength within, seeing that she was more than the duality of compassion and shouting.) Martha needs to look after her family, and that’s probably for the best. 

And then there’s the skinny idiot in the suit. He actually talks faster than she does, which is absurd, but she wonders if that’s simply because of his questionable family. Perhaps not letting them get a word in is how he survives. 

Either way, they get along like a house on fire. Losing him, wiping his memory and seeing him stare right through her and smile that stupid smile, is almost enough to break her. 

No more companions, she swears. 


The Eleventh Doctor: 

It’s all about fun, now. Impressing the little boy whose garden she crashes in and then impressing him when he’s grown up and has waited 14 years for her. (To hell with her rule about no more companions. Her old self was full of dumb ideas anyway.) 

Oh yes, she likes Rory Williams a lot. And his best friend John isn’t bad either. Mind you, that nose… 

She has her spaceship, and her boys, and life is good. Well, there’s River Song to worry about, but she can never be sure if the archaeologist is more interested in her or John. Just one more mystery, it seems. 

Losing Rory, and then John, is hard. But she knows that they’re happy, and that’s enough. 

The Twelfth Doctor:

Short, bossy, a control freak, and a slight obsession with tartan. Also, her English teacher companion is secretly a rock star wannabe, disguised as a reclusive Scottish nerd. 

What’s a girl to do? 

(Apparently, find out that her best enemy is alive, and now also female. And Scottish like her companion. The first kiss had been… shocking to say the least. The ones after, against her better judgement, decidedly less so.) 

She cares about her companion more than she will ever say, and when faced with losing him, takes things too far. Further than anyone should ever take anything. And when it is all said and done… she can’t remember his face, or his voice, or how he sounded when he mocked how large her eyes were. 

River is there to comfort her, though, in those 24 years on Darillium. 

And then Bill. Brilliant Bill. Oh yes, they make quite the team. And Nardole helps sometimes too. 

Send me an AU and I’ll expand on it! 

'Oh no.'

‘Oh no.’

Tucker hadn’t meant for this to happen. Honestly his tight ass would have paid any amount of money in the world to PREVENT this from happening.

But it had happened. He had looked over at his life long best friend sleeping against his shoulder and had been struck by the very INTIMATE urge to kiss him on his adorable little freckled nose.

This wasn’t a good thing, because said best friend’s GIRLFRIEND was sleeping against his OTHER shoulder, and every time her hair fell across her face he had to nearly bite his own fingers to stop himself from brushing her fringe aside out of her long lashed eyes.

The three of them had sat down for a movie at Sam’s place, it was one of those few calm nights where the ghosts were chilling in the Zone and NOT causing any trouble for once. Danny was absolutely delighted to spend the night with his friends doing something that DIDN’T involve ghosts.

The two lovebirds had sat beside one another on the lounge, holding hands and being, quite frankly, UNBEARABLY adorable. Tucker warned them that he’d sit on them if they didn’t stop being so mushy and things predictably escalated until they were all but a tangle of goofy limbs hanging precariously off the two seater lounge.

By the time Tucker awoke it was late morning and he was seated firmly between Sam and Danny, both having cuddled right up to him in the night, his left arm was warm under Sam’s weight, but his entire right side was borderline numb beneath Danny’s clinging arms. Boy was a leach, he had always been clingy when they shared beds as kids but back then he didn’t have a big ol’ chunk of freezing cold ectoplasm sitting pretty in his chest.

But cold be damned Tucker was squished up with BOTH his crushes practically sleeping on top of him, no force on Earth or in the Zone could possibly make him move right now. He was staying right here where he could stew in his delight and guilt for the rest of eternity.

Until Danny stirred and an arm pressed against his bladder. Heck. He needed to pee, like, really REALLY needed to pee.

Tucker stayed nestled up in the cuddle pile for as long as he could stand it before heaving a sigh so heavy even Thor couldn’t lift it. Somehow he managed to wrangle himself out without waking either of his friends and he waddled to the bathroom to relieve himself.

He could hear his heartbeat in his ears as he stood in the cold tiled room. Why. No seriously, WHY. How in the fresh hell did he manage to fall head over heels not only for ONE of his best friends, but BOTH of them, and to top it off they were both DATING each other. He literally could not have picked a worse scenario.

He could wake up one morning with 'Bad Luck Tuck’ tattooed to his forehead and he still couldn’t possibly feel more unlucky than he did in this instant.

It took all of his willpower not to always end his and Sam’s constant meat vs vegan fights by smooching her on those enticingly smooth cheekbones, and Danny was even WORSE. Every time that asshole so much as SMILED Tucker’s heart would start thumping like it was trying to put him into cardiac arrest, it was just all those freckles and that little chip in his tooth and-

Oh God stooooop. He needed to stop, he needed to stop right the heck now before he became the first human being to pass out from overexposure to adorkableness. Honestly? Fuck his friends for being so cute. This was all their fault, they could at least have considered his feelings before growing up to be so adorably kissable.

He’d tried so hard to deny it to himself, he tried SO hard to fall back out of love with them but after waking up that morning nestled between those two precious asshats he realised that he had lost this battle, and he had lost it HARD.

But, at the very least, living with a superhero as your best friend taught you some pretty useful life skills. One of those skills being how to Lie Like a Motherfucker to Everyone You Care About. So without further ado Tucker washed his hands, took a moment to stare his lovestruck gaze away in the mirror, and went back out to throw a shoe at his best friend’s head for making his arm numb through the night.

He loved his friends, he loved them with everything he had and that was why he could never tell them how he felt.

————

'Oh no.’

Sam was honestly pissed, no scratch that, she was more than pissed. She was FURIOUS. Her rage burned with the intensity of her mother’s artificially whitened teeth, and she couldn’t even take it out on anyone, because the focus of her ire was her own stupid stupid brain.

She had always been equally close to both of her friends, in fact she had only very rarely hung out with one or the other alone, and every time she did it felt just… so uncomfortable. It took a long time to really sort out what that feeling was, but even when she did it made no sense.

It was GUILT, she felt GUILTY. Why did she feel guilty? Danny and Tucker sometimes hung out together without her, and that was fine, she was fine with it, they’d been friends since before she came along, but why couldn’t she do the same?

Every time one of them was over her house without the other it almost felt like she was cheating on someone, and that only got MORE disturbing after she and Danny started dating. Because suddenly? It very well COULD have been cheating.

But it wasn’t. And she kept telling herself it wasn’t. She had never kissed Tucker while she and Danny were dating. They had never even held hands.

But God damn, the realisation that had just struck her was enough to make her want to slap herself for ever becoming such a cliché piece of romance movie tripe.

She had just been sitting there, sipping on her smoothie when Tucker did that Thing. She hated that Thing. That Thing where he’d say something that he knew full well was the vocal equivalent of a tumblr shitpost but he ALSO knew she’d found it fucking hilarious and while she tried her damnedest not to let a smile loose he’d send her a big shit eating grin that made her stomach roll and her tongue feel dry. Yeah, THAT Thing.

She was crushing on Tucker, she was crushing on Tucker so hard. She was head over heels for her best friend, her BOYFRIEND’S best friend. Literally EVERYTHING about this situation was the reason she hated 90% of the movies she ever saw. Love triangles were the worst plague fiction had ever suffered and suddenly she realised it had spread it’s nasty little friendship killing tendrils into her life.

She was determined, however, not to fall into the awful trap that so many would think was inevitable, and she did so by keeping her mouth firmly shut about it. She had the willpower to go face to face against ghosts twice her size, and had been through more than one bout of emotional and mental manipulation by others of the ghostly kind. She was not about to lose this battle with herself and destroy not only her relationship, but also the much more valuable friendship she held with both boys.

Sam got up and gathered everyone’s Nasty Burger food scraps to throw into the bin, taking the brief moment to let her face twist in grief over what she’d have to do. With the rubbish gone and her resolve hardened, she slathered her face in smiles and ease, walking back to the table and acting with the skill and grace of someone who had been lying to protect her best-friend-turned-boyfriend for years. Her true feelings shoved somewhere deep between a pit of self-loathing and the core of her love for the boys she cared more about than anyone on this earth, including herself.

———-

'Oh no.’

Danny was in trouble. Danny was in so so so so SO much trouble.

Honestly? At first he hadn’t even realised he was doing it, Tucker had been his friend for such a long time, it had only seemed natural to invite him out everywhere when he and Sam made plans. But Danny was starting to realise the tension it was causing.

Neither of them said anything but sometimes Danny could pick up on… something. Of course he knew what it was, since he’d started officially dating Sam, Tucker had become somewhat of a third wheel.

Danny had never considered his friend to be out of place or unwanted, but he wasn’t sure Sam felt the same way. Maybe she wanted it just to be the two of them, maybe she just wanted some alone time with her boyfriend. She wouldn’t say anything, Danny figured she didn’t want to seem clingy or harsh but, why else would things suddenly start feeling so… weird?

He tried to make the effort to go on at least a couple dates with Sam without inviting Tucker, but honestly he just couldn’t help but think something was missing, and it really didn’t seem to be helping with Sam’s tension. She tried to hide it, she really did, and it wasn’t as though she was bad at it, Danny just knew her too well. Her and Tucker, he was hiding something too.

And Danny was starting to think he knew what it was. They had NOTICED.

He thought he was doing such a good job keeping his feelings from being too obvious, he was used to acting differently around certain people by now (having an alter ego did that to a guy), but obviously his friends knew him too well.

It might have been the touching, yep, yep it definitely could have been the touching. Danny was an extremely touchy person and his gentle caresses and nuzzles weren’t particularly picky about which friend received them. He definitely remembered a time when he straight up snuggled his face right into Tucker’s neck during what was probably an EXTREMELY un-platonic hug.

Other events on the 'Danny is a two timing doofus’ calendar included:

'Holding hands with both Sam AND Tucker while walking down the street.’

'Very delicately running his fingers over Tucker’s leg one time when he’d thrown them on Danny’s lap and honestly there was absolutely nothing heterosexual about that moment.’

'Every time Tucker laughed so hard he snorted Danny thought his heart would straight up melt into a puddle of goo, and then SAM would start doing that super adorable giggle that she was really self conscious of and her trying not to laugh made her pull this fACE and Tucker would lose his mind and start snorting all over again and-’

Danny had to stop himself right there before his heart completely dissolved because for the love of the Ancients his friends were both way too hecking precious for their own good and he loved them, he loved them sooo much. He loved them both.

And they probably knew it.

And boy that meant he was in deep trouble.

Would Sam break up with him? Would this ruin their friendship? Nobody was SAYING anything but Danny knew that stewing over something like this was just going to lead to an explosion of awkward raging teen angst worthy of a place on an MCR album.

If they weren’t gonna bring it up then Danny would just have to… get it out of the way.

Oh boy, he did not want to do this, nuh uh, no sir, he did not want to be standing in his bedroom shifting uncomfortably before his two beautiful, patient, wonderful friends. He would have loved to be sitting BETWEEN them however he deemed such a position to be quite, how the professionals would say, INA-FUCKING-PROPRIATE considering the subject at hand.

No, standing in front of them was slightly better, only slightly because Danny felt like an absolute nervous piece of half human trash. Maybe he could just jump out the window and throw himself into a dumpster, that would speed things along. He would probably end up there by the end of this conversation anyway.

He decided to just do it, stop beating around the blood blossom bush and just get it DONE. Unfortunately Danny hadn’t practiced what he was going to say beforehand, so when he finally resolved to just blurt it all out he literally did… just that.

“I’VE GOTTA HUGE CRUSH ON TUCKER AND I DUNNO WHAT TO DO ABOUT IT.”

By the time his brain caught up to his words his dumpster diving plan was sounding significantly more appealing. There was probably some kind of banana skin pun he could have used there but he was far too stressed to figure it out.

Tucker didn’t respond, he appeared to be trying to bury his face into his hat. A kind of wheezing noise was coming out of him, Danny couldn’t tell if it was a good sound or a bad sound. Sam let out a long breath that whistled between her lip piercings.

“Holy shit me too.”

The Tucker sound continued, raising to a nearly imperceptible level. Danny was just beginning to think it might have been a Bad sound when Tucker pulled his face back into the world, his glasses were all fogged up but he stopped making the noise.

Sam and Danny both waited for him to say actual words but Tucker.exe seemed to have stopped working. Once he’d gained his breath he was back to wheezing into his hat. Sam hesitantly put a hand on his back.

“Are you actually okay or are you like, dying?”

Muffled words were said into the hat, none of which could be repeated around children. Danny was juuuust about to start attempting to will himself into spontaneous combustion when he recognised a very distinct sound emanating from the hat.

Snorting, Tucker was snorting like a god damn pig. Danny’s shaky legs gave out below him and he sat on the floor, shoving his face into the carpet as he laughed along with his best friend. He didn’t know what was happening right now, but he was Having Emotions and the floor just seemed like the right place for that.

Also he needed to look somewhere that wasn’t Sam. She was trying not to laugh and she was pulling That Face and Danny just couldn’t handle it right now and really the floor was great why didn’t he spend more time here.

Tucker felt as though he was finally ready to leave the comforting world of Hat Land and face the unbeLIEVABLE realisation that all of his dreams had just come true in a ten second span of time, he felt like he had just been blessed by the gods, his skin was clear, his crops were flourishing and world peace had been established. Today was a good day to start ugly sobbing in front of the two most important people in his life.

“I love both you guys too!!” Tucker half laughed, half cried, and then just straight up cried, “I’ve wa-wanted to smooch you both sooo bad for like, MONTHS!”

The moment his snorting turned to sobbing he was immediately accosted by a pair of equally snotty emotional wrecks. Danny, still on the floor, had plopped his head on Tucker’s lap and just started balling his eyes out, like he was really going for gold in 'Most Tears Shed on One Lap’. Sam, on the other hand, had commandeered Tucker’s upper half for a simple bone breaking, teary hug.

The next few hours were just chock full of used tissues, an inappropriate amount of snacks and some deep, heartfelt discussions about what the fuck their relationship was gonna be.

Honestly they were just happy to be so open and at ease with one another again, the sun poured into Danny’s bedroom window as the three of them dozed in the warm pool of light. Laying across one another, their imagined boundaries finally broken, they could finally talk shit about each other for making them feel so mushy.

——

“Oh NO.”

Paulina said out loud at the scene before her. Those three dorks were sitting together at their usual lunch table, all bunched up ridiculously close together and if she wasn’t mistaken she had just seen Danny turn around and KISS TUCKER ON THE MOUTH while Sam, his GIRLFRIEND, just watched?!

“Oh yes.” Star deadpanned, not seeming too fazed by the weirdness happening before her.

“I didn’t think those three could get any more confusing, but I have no idea what’s happening over there right now.” Paulina sat back in her chair, arms crossed.

“Really?” Star raised an eyebrow. “You seriously didn’t see this coming? Those three,” she pointed with a delicately painted pink nail, “have been perfect polygamy material for like, three years.”

“Perfect what material?” Paulina’s face was all scrunched up in confusion, her little nose wrinkled up and her lips pursed in just the cutest little pout-

Star’s stomach fluttered alarmingly.

'Oh no.’

The Runaway Ballerina

Pairing: Dean x sister!reader, Sam x sister!reader, some Cas 

Warnings: Fluff

Summary: Reader has been hexed by witch that turned her into a toddler, and a jealous Dean becomes very annoyed. 

A/N: I hit 100 followers, so in honor of that I’ll be posting some imagines so if you guys have any request send them down and I’ll try my best.


Part 2

Originally posted by helvonasche


Sam and Dean sit in baby staring at their once 25 year old sister who was now 4 years old in a ballerina outfit because that’s what she picked out at the store when they needed to buy her clothes. The previous hunt they were on Y/N got hit by some weird powder by a witch and Dean woke up the following morning to a tiny hand on his face.

“Why do you guys keeping wooking at me weird?” She ask looking between them. “You’re just so tiny.” Sam smiles. “She’s so cute!” Sam adds looking at Dean. “Yeah, I remember.” He mumbles as they get out the car to go food shopping for the bunker.

“Come on Y/N.” Sam chimes as he opens the back door for her. He holds her hand as they cross the street to the store. She lets go and runs to the shopping carts to grab one. They stand there watching her struggle to get one cart out because they were stuck together. (Don’t you just hate that) “I got it.” Sam chuckles getting it. As they walk in store Y/N skips ahead next to Dean to hold his hand but he keeps moving his hand so she can’t grab it.

“I don’t wanna hold your hand, thanks. I don’t wanna hold your hand.” He argues. She frowns and grabs a hold of his hand and grips it tight. “Ow, ow, let go of my hand.” He growls. “That hurts.” He glares down at her. She whimpers and peeks over to Sam who looks down at her. “What’s wrong bug?”

“Dean won’t hold my hand.” Y/N pouts. Sam gives Dean his signature bitch face and Dean grunts and grabs her hand. “She always did this before.” He mumbles but Sam just chuckles shaking his head. “Why did you choose a costume?” Dean ask looking at her ballerina outfit. “It’s not a costume it’s my protective gear.”

“How’s a ballerina costume suppose to protect you?”

“Are you crazy who wants to hurt a ballewina?” She protest. “Other ballerinas.” Dean shrugs. Once Dean had enough he throws Y/N in the seat of the cart and she rambles to Sam who too eventually has enough of her talk of Princes and fairies and he gives her his iPod. She bops her head and swings her hanging legs accidentally kicking Sam once in awhile listening to music as they get to the register. “Can I has some lime jerky?” She ask pointing down below to the candy and jerky. Sam is about to protest remembering her eating habit but Dean holds his hand up to stop him. “Your remember how she was when she didn’t get things. She whined and whined.” Sam grabs the jerky and puts it down with the of stuff and Y/N smiles. The ride to the bunker is an half hour away and Y/N becomes very impatient.

“Are we there yet?” She grunts tugging on her seatbelt. “We get there when we get there Y/N.” Dean answers annoyed. “Why do you have to be such a meany?” She yells. Sam stops Dean before he can even talk back. “Hey princess let’s play a game.” Sam says turning around in his seat. “Okay!”

“Let’s play the license plate game.”

“Yay okay!” Y/N props herself on the seat and looks out the window. There isn’t much cars on the road and she eventually falls asleep from boredom. When they arrive Sam carries Y/N down the stairs seeing Cas sitting in the war room. “Who’s the child?” He questions noticing a sleeping Y/N in Sam’s arms.

“Cas it’s Y/N.” He chuckles. “Y/N isn’t two feet tall.”

“She got hit by some mumbo jumbo powder and now she’s four years old so we need to find a way to reverse it.” Dean explains as they walk to the kitchen. “Cas would you mind taking her to her room?” Sam ask. Cas hesitates at first and nods. Sam passes her gently so she doesn’t wake up. She stirs in Cas’s arms for a moment and becomes still again. He takes her to her room settling her down on the bed. He admires her small body seeing fully that it clearly was Y/N. He remembers Y/N showing him some pictures of her and boys when they were younger.

An hour goes passed and the boys sit in the library reading some books. “Do children usually nap for this long?” Cas questions. “You have a point totally forgot. She’s too quiet now that I realize.” Sam intervenes. “Oh no.” Dean mumbles getting up. “What? What is it?” Cas questions following them to the kitchen.

“Whenever Y/N was quiet it meant that she’s was either hiding something or she’s going through the pantry for cand—”

Sure enough when they reach the kitchen they see a stash of candy wrappers opened along with other snacks, but that wasn’t the problem. This was Dean’s secret stash. “Son of bitch.” He stomps his boot. “If she throws up, I’m blaming you!”  Dean scolds at Sam with a pointed finger. They go into the hallways to look for her. “Y/N!” Dean screams. He goes to her room not seeing her there and is about to leave till he hears shuffling from the closet. He slowly walks up to the closet grabbing the door knobs and swings them open spotting the little ballerina with a chocolate stained mouth.

“THERE YOU ARE!” She screams crawling through Deans legs and makes a run for it in the hallway.

“Sammy get her!” He screams. Sam sees a small body dart across the hallway. He runs after her but loses her once he turns the corner. Five minutes go by and Dean doesn’t find her. “I’m tried of playing games Y/N come out now or it’s time out for you!” After three minutes of searching he meets in the war room with Sam. “She’s in so much trouble!” Dean grunts. “Dean, why are you so mad at her?”


“She ate my stuff!”

“No, not that. I mean ever since she turned you’ve been a meany like she said what’s up with that?” Dean doesn’t answer and looks away. Sam stands there waiting for the answer. Dean mumbles something inaudible he can’t hear. “What?”

“I said she likes you better then me.” He confesses. “Dean, what are you talking about?” He sighs before he answers.

“Every since Y/N was little she always liked you best. She was stuck to you like glue.” Sam stands there in shock. “Dean, she loves you a lot you know?” He raises an eyebrow hearing this. “Anytime you and dad were gone Y/N never shut about you. Asking me all these questions about cars and bugging me when you were gonna be back and how excited she was to learn  how to gank monsters from her big brother. Besides you too spend a bunch of time together now. Why is this affecting you?”

“Is that true?”

“Yes, I was kinda jealous because I thought she liked you more. And to be honest I’m a little jealous. You guys have a closer bond than I have with her now.” Sam admits. Suddenly Cas emerges into the war room carrying a crying Y/N. “What happened?” Sam ask. “Well when I was chasing her down she fell and hurt her knee.” He lifts her leg up showing the ripped pink unitard with a cut that is now bleeding just a little and the torn tutu. He goes to hand her to Sam’s out stretched arms but she whimpers rejecting him.


“I want Dean.” She whimpers crying. Dean lifts his head up hearing this and gets a good look at his baby sister. Her arms reached out for him leaning away from Cas. Her eyes puffy and red from crying. Dean realizes that he’s been so stupid that he didn’t need to be jealous, because him and Y/N get along perfect now when she’s not a toddler. She whimpers putting her arms down thinking her big brother yet again is rejecting her today until he reaches out for her and she quickly wraps her arms around his neck. “You okay?” He ask softly wiping her tear stained face. “No.” Y/N croaks shaking her head and he takes her to his room. He sets her down on his bed and helps her in one of his t-shirts after cleaning her face.


“I’m sorry I ate your candy.” She apologies in her small voice. “No, I’m sorry for being a meany today, I was just jealous.”

“Why?” She ask with a tilt of her head.

“It’s a long story. But let’s get a bandaid on this shall we?” He gets the first aid kit and cleans her scratch up. “Tank you.” She says once he’s finished. “Dean.” She calls out to him when he puts the stuff away. “Yeah?”

“Can we watch some cowboy movies?” He smiles at this and nods his head. “Sure thing sweetheart.” He sets the movie in his room while Cas helps her pop the popcorn. Half way through the movie Y/N starts falling asleep. He looks down under his arm seeing Y/N falling asleep with a piece of popcorn hanging of her bottom lip. “Getting sleepy there?” He lays down with her pulling the blanket up. “Frectles.” She mumbles. “What?” She puts one tiny finger in his face and says it again. “Frectles.” He frowns then gasp realizing what she meant. “You mean freckles.” He chuckles. “Yeah you has those.”

A/N: Would you guys like a Part 2?

Fire and Ice // A Dylan O’Brien Smut

Prompt: He’s a die-hard Mets fan, but you just so happen to be dedicated to the Yankees + request

Warings: NSFW, Explicit Sexual Content, Smut, Fingering, Oral (both recieving), Different Kinks (masterbation kink also releasing on girl’s face), Basically the dirtiest and most descriptive smut I think I’ve ever written. 

Relationship: Dylan O’Brien x Reader

Word Count: 6,200 (Sorry not sorry, I got carried away with the details)

Song: Bad Things by Camila Cabello and Machine Gun Kelly

A/N: I literally grew up loving the Yankees (still do) and I honestly don’t know how I hadn’t thought of this before. Also, get ready guys ‘cuz some cool things will be happening the next few weeks and I really hope y’all like it. 

P.s. I was originally gonna post a gif, but then I saw these two pictures and fucking lost it.

Your name: submit What is this?

 

“Oh, for the love of God!” The young woman complained before taking a long gulp of her drink as she watched her team’s pitcher fail for the fourth time tonight. “Sal, I swear, I’m gonna kill him.”

“Well, at least you’re still in the lead.” The bartender chuckled, wiping down the countertop in between the two.

“Yeah, no thanks to Bryan Mitchell.” She sighed, shaking her head in disappointment.

It wasn’t exactly one of the biggest games of the season, but to her it just about was. The Mets had a surprising comeback in 2016 and the last thing her Yankees needed was to lose to that pathetic excuse of a baseball team. With her eyes glued on the television in this small but cozy downtown bar, (Y/N) placed her glass of whiskey back on her lips and let the hard liquid tear its way down her throat.

As soon as the batter of the opposing team failed to successfully hit the ball, (Y/N) let out a much needed breath of relief. Her attention was completely dedicated to the game playing on the tv screen. Well, that is, until she heard the sound of the front door opening. She didn’t quite know why, but (Y/N) felt inclined to look at whomever was arriving at this small bar she frequented so much. And, boy, was she glad she did.

Her breath hitched in her throat the second she caught sight of the incredibly handsome guy walking inside, a backwards cap settled on his dark brown hair that she felt the sudden desire to run her fingers through. The first thing she noticed was the sexy as hell scruffy, but surprisingly tame, beard on his jaw, her imagination immediately lighting on fire with dirty thoughts. His toned arms and veins straining against his muscles as he coincidentally sat on the stool beside her and lifted his arm to get a hold of the bartender was what caught her focus next. The employee instantly strode towards the beautiful stranger and asked what he wanted to drink. He politely made his order and (Y/N) couldn’t find it in herself to take her gaze off of his plump and inviting lips.

Embarrassment like never before washed over her now blushed cheeks when he, suddenly, turned to her with a confused expression and she realized she had been caught staring. She tried her best to dart away from his stare, but his eyes locked onto hers and eager chills ran down her spine when a small smirk made its way on his pink lips. She took the opportunity to really look at his eyes and they certainly didn’t fail to make her knees weak. They weren’t just a regular hazel color, they were warm with a liquid golden-brown that also had a spark of mischief in them she felt so inclined to get to know. It was strange how they both connected so easily just through looks even though neither one of them believed in love at first sight. The two did, however, believe in infatuation at first sight.

The smirk on his face didn’t leave even when she managed to break the stare the moment she heard the crowd cheering on the tv and she, immediately, turned to discover what just happened in the baseball game. Dylan certainly noticed that his Mets had just made a homerun, but he couldn’t take his eyes off of the girl in the stool next to him. She wore high-waisted jean shorts that definitely worked in favor of her, breath taking, legs and his mind already came up with different scenarios of them spread before him. Her shirt wasn’t revealing in any way, it was just a plain Star Wars tee, and yet he still felt attracted to it. Maybe it’s the fact that he already knew they had a common love for this geeky movie series without even needed to exchange in small talk. But, the way her natural hair perfectly fell on her shoulders made Dylan want to push it aside and nibble down on her inviting neck.

“Are you serious?!” The gorgeous girl shouted, angrily pointing towards the screen even though she knew the umpire couldn’t actually hear her. “That was clearly foul play!”

Her words sparked interest in him and, reluctantly doing so at first, Dylan eventually turned his head towards the sports game. A smile lit up on his face as he watched his team celebrate their newest point only to, suddenly, remember the girl he had his eye on was complaining about this very achievement.

“Foul play?” Dylan questioned and (Y/N) immediately turned around towards the source of the charming voice. “Wait, are you a Yankees’ fan?”

“A proud one to be exact.” She smiled happily and if it weren’t for his shock with this new discovery, he certainly would’ve swooned at how beautiful she was.

“Perfect.” He sighed, only now realizing the bartender had left his drink in front of him when he was too busy gawking at her just moments ago.

“What?” She asked, genuinely confused at his odd reaction and watched him take a sip from his bottle of beer. Then, the realization hit her like a truck and she shook her head with disappointment. “Oh, no. You’re a Mets fan, aren’t you?”

Dylan didn’t even say anything. He just put his bottle back down on the surface and reached behind his head to turn his baseball cap forwards. Immediately revealing The New York Mets logo stamped on the hat and (Y/N) held back her laughter at the unexpected situation they found themselves in.

“A proud one to be exact.” Dylan repeated her words and, this time, (Y/N) actually let a laugh fall from her lips. It was music to his ears and he desperately wanted to hear it again.

Their attention was back on the game when the sound of bickering and chaotic commotion came from the tv, both now focused on what was happening. Neither one of them knew why the two teams were now fighting, but their hearts lodged in their throats as they watched the players lunge at each other. It was hard to tell who exactly started the fight, but by the commentaries coming from the voice-overs it seemed to be the Yankees’ fault.

“Of course.” Dylan shook his head, taking another gulp of his beer. “Wouldn’t be the first time.”

(Y/N) immediately turned to glare at him, rage and frustration rushing through her veins at the sound of disregard towards her favorite baseball team.

“Excuse me?” She hissed, completely offended at his remark.

“Oh, I’m sorry, does the 2000 World Series not ring any bells to you?” He retorted with a cocky smirk.

“You mean the year we completely destroyed your team’s ass?” She replied, a grin on her face as she proudly spoke. “Something we had already accomplished countless times and would continue doing ‘till, literally, this very day.”

“Roger Clemens and Mike Piazza.” Dylan simply stated, chosing to ignore her bragging and (Y/N)’s eyes widened at the familiar names.

“There’s no proof Clemens intentionally hit Piazza in the head with that fastball.” She defended and he let out a dark chuckle.

“Seriously? You’re really going to defend someone who gave a fellow baseball player a concussion just because he had terrible anger management?”

“Okay, you know what?” (Y/N) scoffed, rolling her eyes at him. “At least we have players that are actually good at pitching.”

That spiteful comment was enough to spark something in him other than desire for this girl and, needless to say, Dylan was outraged. No one can just mock his beloved Mets and think they can easily get away with it.

“Says the girl whose team lost to us, their biggest rivals, in a 15 to 6 defeat in 2008.” Dylan retaliated and didn’t expect the sudden chuckle (Y/N) let out.

“Sure, but what’s one losing game compared to the 27 different World Series said girl’s team has already won?” She shrugged and Dylan hated the fact that she was right. “Making her baseball team the one with the most wins ever.

“And sweetie,” (Y/N) continued, placing a hand on his thigh that sent lustful jolts throughout Dylan’s entire body. “You’re sad little team isn’t even close to being an actual rival of ours, not when you’ve only won a pathetic amount of 2 World Series. How about you try to insult me when you catch up with us big boys, huh?”

“Fuck, I don’t know what drives me crazier.” Dylan whimpered at her touch, his eyes boring into her dilated ones and there’s no doubt both of them clearly wanted to rip each other’s clothes off. “The fact that you keep dissing my Mets or the fact that you’re extremely sexy talking so passionately about baseball like that.”

With a sly smile on her face and confidence she didn’t actually know she had in her, the young woman extending her hand towards him.

“(Y/N) (Y/L/N).” She greeted as he slipped his own hand into her grasp and shook them together. “Huge Yankees fan who apparently also happens to be very sexy.”

“Dylan O'Brien.” He smiled back at her, a small chuckle escaping his throat at her comment. “Long suffering Mets fan.”

“Nice to meet you, Dylan.” She laughed and he laughed along with her when her eyebrows, suddenly, furrowed. “Wait, why do I feel like I’ve heard that name somewhere before?”

“I, uh-” Dylan nervously scratched the back of his neck. “I’m an actor.”

“Hey, that’s right!” She exclaimed, now putting together the puzzled pieces in her mind. “You’re that kid from that werewolf show.”

“Yeah, Teen Wolf.” He corrected and she let out a long oh of realization as she remembered all the times she flickered through her channels and passed by this show without second glance.

“So, what brings a Hollywood star like you to this unknown bar?” (Y/N) asked, a playful smirk on her lips. “Shouldn’t you be out partying with models or other celebrities?”

“Nah, I hate that stuff.” He shook his head. “I really love my job but despise the attention.”

“I see.” She smiled, not expecting to meet such a humble famous person. Living in LA, you meet a few here and there and they’re usually always very egotistical. It’s quite refreshing to get to know someone that’s the complete opposite.

“But, what about you? What do you you do?” Dylan asked, taking another gulp of his beer.

“I’m the, um, GM of the Dodgers.” (Y/N) stated nervously and it took everything in him not to spit out his drink in utter shock. The woman giggled at his astonished gaze, his eyes practically bulging out of their sockets.

“Y-You’re the General Manager of the fucking Los Angeles Dodgers?!” Dylan exclaimed after he managed to successfully swallow his alcohol.

“Why so surprised?” She challenged and Dylan couldn’t stop staring at her in complete awe. “Is it because I’m a woman?”

“No!” Dylan frantically shook his head. “It’s because I was already so attracted to you and, now, fuck… I think you might just be the death of me.”

“Well, O'Brien.” She grinned and Dylan suddenly moaned when she unexpectedly gripped tightly onto his thigh. “I’m very attracted to you, too.”

“Hey, do you want to get out of here?” He asked, beyond ready to do so many sinful things to her that even the devil himself would be ashamed of.

“Ah, the game’s still on.” She shook her head as she pointed towards the television. “Can’t stop supporting my Yankees just for a hook up.”

“The fact that you work for one baseball team yet your favorite is a completely different one amazes me.” Dylan chuckled, his eyes lingering over her body before landing back on her own.

“What can I say?” (Y/N) shrugged, the actor internally moaning when she bit down on her bottom lip. “I like to keep people on the edge of their seats.”

“Well, you certainly have me on mine.”

The sexual tension between the two was so strong that even the bartender could feel it seething off of them and taking over the entire room. He, honestly, thinks he could cut it with a knife from how palpable it was. (Y/N) still hadn’t removed her grip on his thigh and Dylan silently prayed to any god out there that she wouldn’t, his body craving her touch so much it made him hazy.

“How about a little bet to make things interesting?” She proposed and Dylan’s eyes perked up with intrigue.

“Go on.” He gestured, leaning in closer to her.

“If, after the game, the Yankees have won, you have to tweet out that my team is better than yours.” She stated with a grin and Dylan immediately scoffed at her proposal. “However, if the Mets win, you can take me to your place and have your way with me.”

Dylan’s cock already felt hard just at the offer alone as he watched her take a sip of her whiskey with a naughty smirk. It took all of the self control he had in him not to moan out and crash his lips against her red ones from the beautiful lipstick she was wearing.

“Deal.” He nodded and they shook hands for the second time tonight.

The two eagerly watched the game, both way too excited with what would happen right after. (Y/N) knew that, even if she does win, she definitely won’t be spending the night at her own house. They would constantly and shamelessly glance at each other, neither one caring about embarrassment. The lust and desire was so strong at this point that every stare, glance or lick of the lips was more than welcome. Not only were their bodies attracted to one another, but so were their minds. The two had more in common than they imagined and they enjoyed every second of mindless chatter and laughter. Dylan loved it when she laughed carelessly at his stupid jokes and (Y/N) felt like she was on cloud nine everytime he listened to her speak with such intrigue.

“Seventh inning stretch.” (Y/N) sighed, taking a sip from her third drink of the night as she groaned at the score. “And it’s tie.”

“Want to make things even more interesting?” Dylan smirked, narrowing his eyes in mischief and (Y/N) swooned, still not used to this man’s beauty.

“Just how interesting are we talking here?” She grinned, putting down the glass of alcohol she had in her hand.

“Let’s raise the stakes of this bet.”

“I’m listening.”

“If the Yankees win not only will I tweet they’re better than the Mets, but I’ll also record a video singing the Yankees’ theme to go along with it.” Dylan quirked his eyebrows and (Y/N) carefully listened to every word that came out of his mouth. “However, if my team wins, you have to come back to my place tonight and go on a date with me.”

(Y/N) eyes widened at the request and she, suddenly, felt her heart beat a little faster. With a happy smile now spreading across her face, she took her glass back in her small hand.

“Alright, O'Brien.” She nodded, clinking her drink with his. The sound echoing in their little bubble as they stared each other down. “I’m down with that, but you better start warming up your voice because there’s no way the Mets are going to win.”

It was as if the words she said immediately cursed the entire game the moment they fell from her red lips. The Mets were unexpectedly scoring homerun after homerun and (Y/N) would cringe everytime they did. Dylan, on the other hand, had a permanent smirk on his face the whole game. He would watch in awe whenever (Y/N) would angrily scream at the television screen and he couldn’t wait till she screaming under him. It didn’t take long for the game to end and (Y/N) question her entire existence. It’s not that she didn’t want the things that came with Dylan winning, oh she definitely wanted them, it’s the fact that her incredibly skillful and talented Yankees lost to the fucking Mets.

“Well, well, well.” Dylan grinned, standing up from his stool as (Y/N) groaned at his taunting. “Looks like my sad little team caught up with the big boys.”

The beautiful woman glared at his mockery towards the exact words she used just a few hours ago. They were meant to work in her favor not Dylan’s. She stood up from her own stool and took a step towards him, their faces now inches from each other.

“It’s only the beginning of the season.” She defended and Dylan smiled at her proximity, the smell of alcohol on her breath making him drunk on her. “The Mets won’t survive the entire year and you fucking know it.”

“I guess we’ll just have to wait and see.” Dylan retorted and she couldn’t keep her stare away from his lips as he tugged the bottom one in between his teeth, (Y/N) instinctively doing the same. Dylan’s eyes looked down at hers and it was as if their little feud immediately disappeared and now all they could focus on was what was going to happen next.

“Okay, okay.” The bartender broke their stares, blushes painting both of their cheeks. “(Y/N) take your boy toy and get out of here already before you two start having sex on my countertop.”

“Sorry, Sal.” She cleared her throat and Dylan nervously scratched the back of his neck. “We were just leaving.”

The two shared smirks, lust taking over both of their pupils before they ran out of the door. Sal laughing at them as he closed his bar down.

“Kids.” He shook his head with a smile plastered on his face.



The ride to Dylan’s house was surprisingly pleasant. They found more things they shared in common like their love for goofy comedies and their incredibly similar taste in music. Dylan put his phone in the radio of his car and they spent the rest of the ride singing loudly to the songs they both knew by heart. Laughter was the second main theme of the night, right after desire.

“Do you want something to drink?” Dylan asked the second he unlocked the door to his one bedroom apartment and they both walked inside.

“No,” (Y/N) chuckled as she watched him throw his house keys on a small table and turn around to face her. “I’m pretty sure I had enough at the bar.”

“Yeah, you’re probably right.” He laughed, nodding. “What about something to eat?”

“Not hungry.” She shrugged. “But you can eat if you’re hungry.”

“Oh, I’m hungry.” Dylan licked his lips, walking towards her in a predatory fashion and (Y/N)’s swallowed nervously at how sexy he looked. “Just not for food.”

Her breath hitched in her throat at his comment, jolts of lust rushing through her body and landing in her core. Dylan didn’t even wait for a possible response before crashing his mouth on hers and kissing her with such force he had to hold her lower back tightly so she wouldn’t fall. Both of them have been anticipating that moment the entire night and it was so much better than either could’ve expected. Their lips meshed together in sync with the perfect combination of hard and passionate. (Y/N) wrapped her arms around his neck to drop his baseball cap off his head and finally be able to run her fingers through his dark hair. The second Dylan bit down on her bottom lip, she tugged at the roots provoking a moan to escape from his mouth. The sound sent shivers down her spine and she knew that she desperately wanted to do more than just kiss.

(Y/N) broke the kiss to take a breath, but Dylan didn’t dare stop. He pushed her waist closer into him and she moaned when she felt his growing bulge against her body. Dylan left lingering kisses on her neck which spread goosebumps all over her skin. (Y/N) tried to reach down his back and pull the blue t-shirt off of him but Dylan just grinned against her neck.

“I’m in charge here, remember?” Dylan stated, his hot breath fanning across causing (Y/N) to shiver in response. “And I want to take things slow.”

“Fuck.” She whimpered when he nibbled on her pulse point and began sucking, clearly wanting to leave a hickey there.

Dylan took his time leaving kisses and hickeys wherever he damn pleased and it drove (Y/N) crazy. His provocative touches and the way his lips moved against her skin made her knees weak, wetness already pooling in her panties just from the teasing alone.

“Do something.” She moaned.

“Are you gonna beg for it?” He snickered and (Y/N) moaned again just at his dirty talk.

But, (Y/N) does not beg. She never had to beg to a man before and she won’t start now. Then again, she’s never met anyone like Dylan before. He had her wrapped around his finger just from one night alone.

“I don’t beg.” She shook her head and Dylan slipped his hands down to her ass, squeezing roughly.

“You might as well start learning how to.” Dylan’s face returned to hers, their lips slightly touching. “Because I love it when a woman begs.”

“And I love it when a guy actually fucking touches me.” She retorted and the smile on Dylan’s face didn’t go unnoticed.

He let go of her completely and she whimpered at the loss of contact, wanting desperately to feel his body back on hers. They took this moment to stare at each other and both loved the sight. The two had swollen lips from kissing so hard and smudged red lipstick all over their lips, chins and cheeks. Dylan placed his hand on the hem of her Star Wars shirt and pulled it off her, (Y/N) slightly shivering at the new lack of warmth. He kissed her gently, mostly to tease, as he unbottoned her high-waisted shorts and let them fall on the floor. As she stepped out of the jeans, Dylan licked his plump lips in appreciation at her gorgeous body. She was wearing a matching pair of simple a bra and panties, but the black heels she had on made her look beyond sexy to him. Dylan’s cock twitched against his jeans, desperately wanting to be inside of this breath-taking woman in front of him.

“Take off your bra.” He commanded and usually (Y/N) wouldn’t like being the submissive one during sex but this dominant side of him was turning her on more than she expected.

Slowly reaching behind her back, she unclasped the bra and brought the straps down until she was finally bare. Dylan’s eyes immediately stared at her breasts, the rosy pink nipples perked and ready to be played with. Which was exactly what he decided to. He took two quick steps towards her before returning his hands on her waist, (Y/N)’s back arching the second Dylan’s lips attached to one of her nipples. His hand carefully massaging the other breast he currently wasn’t working his tongue against. She couldn’t contain her moans at finally being able to feel something, but her core still ached in anticipation. When Dylan bit down on her nipple and pulled at it with his teeth, (Y/N) had to press her thighs together to be able to relieve some of the pressure.

“Ah, ah, ah.” Dylan tsked, shaking his head before removing his mouth. He pressed the hand that was on her breast on her thigh and pushed her legs apart. “I call all of the shots.”

“Ple-” She was just about to beg but realized what she was going to do and stopped herself immediately.

“What was that?” He smirked, gripping onto her skin and (Y/N) whimpered at the pressure that was in one place but should’ve been in another. “Were you about to beg?”

“Never.” She panted, his lips back on her nipple.

“Oh, come on Yankees Princess.” He snickered and she not only moaned at the new pet name but the feeling of him sliding his fingers closer to the place she needed him most. “All you have to do is ask.”

She chose to remain silent, not at all trusting her own voice and mind. (Y/N) was already putty in his hands and she didn’t want to give him anymore satisfaction. That is, until he completely broke away from her and took a step back. She stared at him with wide eyes and Dylan grinned sexily before removing his t-shirt. She felt cold and odd without his touch as he unbuckled his belt, pulling it out of his pants. Their eyes full of lust and desire never left each other even when he unbottoned his khakis and brought them down to the floor. Dylan kicked them away, but didn’t approach her again like (Y/N) expected. Instead, he folded his arms across his toned chest and cocked an eyebrow.

“I’m not touching you until you beg for it.” He challenged and her jaw dropped in awe.

Her eyes broke their gaze to look over his body and she swallowed nervously as she took the sight in, frustrated with herself because she now felt inclined to actually beg. Thanks to his crossed arms, Dylan’s muscles were pressing against his skin and it made her head spin. (Y/N) bit down on her lip when she looked at the trail of dark and scruffy hair above his boxers which held the massive erection bulging against the fabric, precum seeping through the cotton. Her core throbbed like never before thanks to the handsome man in front of her.

“Fine, fuck it.” She groaned and Dylan’s ears perked at her words. “Dylan, please touch me. I need you.”

It wasn’t exactly as desperate​ as he initially wanted, but it was enough for the desire pulsing in his own veins. He, too, wanted to touch her just as much as she did. And in a matter of seconds, Dylan rushed to her and instantly ripped apart her panties. Before she could even complain, his hands moved down to her ass and lifted her up. He kissed her passionately, tongue and all, as he brought her to his bedroom. Placing her down on his empty desk, Dylan spread her legs and fit himself in between them.

He trailed wet kisses down her body and (Y/N) buzzed with excitement. Once he reached her stomach, Dylan kneeled down in front of her and gripped his fingers against her heated thighs. He licked his way towards he left thigh and trailed his tongue close to her core. Just as he was about to touch her there, Dylan immediately switched course and began licking her right thigh.

“I’m gonna kill you.” She hissed through her clenched teeth and Dylan chuckled against her skin.

“Patience, Yankees Princess.” He teased as he nibbled. “Good things come to those who wait.”

She grunted, but accepted none-the-less. Although it’s not like she actually had a choice, the Mets did win after all. (Y/N) ran her fingers through his hair, slightly pulling the strands and Dylan would hum in appreciation. The vibrations shooting through her body and increasing the pain in her core.

When Dylan felt like she’d been teased enough, he let his tongue trace against the place they both desired the most. (Y/N) immediately moaned, not at all caring how loud she was being. His tongue spread apart her soaking wet folds and the young woman’s hips bucked when he momentarily trailed against her swollen clitoris. Dylan’s hand grasped tighter onto her legs as he gently slid his tongue into her, the ache in (Y/N)’s core now being replaced with pleasure and satisfaction.

She whimpered when he pulled his tongue away after working inside of her a few minutes but almost screamed out the second his lips attached to her clit and sucked furiously. One of his hands came into contact and slowly slipped a finger inside of her, her hips bucking instantly at the delicious pumping.

“Fuck.” She moaned and Dylan’s hard cock felt uncomfortable in his boxers as he watched her become a panting mess.

The feeling of his finger inside of her heat and pressing against her soft walls made his head spin, his dick begging to replace his hand’s place. But, Dylan was determined to make her cum with just his hands and mouth first. When he felt she was ready for a second one, he put another finger in and pumped at a faster pace. One of (Y/N)’s hands was buried in his hair and the other gripped tightly on the edge of his desk, her knuckles going white at the pressure.

With the mixture of his fingers curling against her walls and his tongue drawing figure eights on her clitoris as his lips sucked, it was more than enough to quickly build up an orgasm inside of the woman moaning uncontrollably. It didn’t take long to build and, the second Dylan unexpectedly bit down on her clit, her orgasm spilled over her entire body. Dylan didn’t dare stop what he was doing when her legs shook intensely along with her back arching up against the wall. He didn’t even stop when they did. The sounds that fell from her swollen lips and the way she looked as she came made Dylan greedy and he desperately wanted it to happen again. (Y/N) was still sensitive from her first orgasm and in a matter of minutes, she was cumming for the second time tonight. The sensitivity of her core making it easy to reach the edge of her pleasure again.

Even though Dylan removed his head from her inner thighs and attached his lips back onto hers in a forceful kiss, (Y/N) could still feel the burning of his scruff scratching against her tingling skin and she truly hopes the sensation never goes away.

There was more precum spread across his boxers that earlier and Dylan was beyond ready to get rid of the excruciating pain his cock felt from the lack of attention. He made his way back in between her legs after pulling his underwear off and kicking them somewhere far from his body. Dylan brought his hand to his member and pumped a few times in preparation. (Y/N) immediately moaned at the sight of him touching himself and Dylan certainly didn’t expect it.

“What-” He smirked, biting down on his lip at the feeling of his own thumb spreading around the precum on his tip. “Do you have a masterbation kink?”

“Maybe.” She confessed, a bright blush painting her cheeks as her pupils dilated when he increased his pace.

“Damn.” Dylan groaned, throwing his head back with shut eyes. “As much as I love this new discovery, I really want to fuck you right now.”

“Oh, please do.” She grinned, spreading her legs apart even further.

Dylan didn’t even need to think twice before placing both of his hands back on her thighs and lining himself at her entrance. His cock throbbed as he coated his tip in her slick wetness, lubricating himself. The two loudly moaned the moment he easily slid into her, the feeling of them becoming one making their bodies throb with excitement. Dylan let his forehead fall on her shoulder as he waited for to adjust to his size.

“Go ahead.” She stated when she was ready and Dylan immediately pulled back before pushing in again. He started thrusting into her slowly, moaning shamelessly at the feeling of her soft and wet walls tightly around him and (Y/N) loved the delicious feeling of Dylan stretching her as he pumped their bodies together.

(Y/N) wrapped her legs around his waist, giving him a new and deeper angle which he gladly accepted. His hands now moving their positions to thrust harder into her, his left palm flat out on the wall behind her and his right gripping harshly on the edge of his desk. She, however, decided to keep her hands on the arching muscles of his bare back. Considering how turned on they already were, it didn’t take much for the familiar knot to grow inside of the two. Dylan had to use every ounce of self control in him not to cum the second she unintentionally clenched around his shaft and, instead, he sunk his teeth into her shoulder.

Dylan pounded deeper into her, now continuously hitting her g-spot no one had ever found until this very moment, and his dream of hearing the beautiful Yankees’ fan from the bar screaming under him finally came true. Her voice echoed in the room along with the sounds of his desk mercilessly banging against the wall and wet skin slapping against wet skin.

“Fuck, I’m almost there.” Dylan panted, loving the feeling of her breasts bouncing against his bare and sweaty chest.

“Me, too.” She shouted, bringing her own hand down to her clit since Dylan was using his for stability.

It took her about 15 seconds of furiously rubbing her already overly sensitive nub before she felt the tight knot inside of her explode and spread mind blowing pleasure throughout her entire body. Dylan tried to hold his orgasm in him the best he could since he didn’t exactly want to cum inside of her without a condom. It was extremely difficult to contain himself, especially when she clenched around him again and dug her nails into his back, but Dylan somehow managed to contain himself as he shouted in frustration. Once he noticed she was back down from her high, he immediately pulled himself out of her and took a step back.

“On your knees.” He panted, his voice weak as he pointed to the ground in front of him.

Even though she was completely hazy from the ground breaking orgasm she just had, (Y/N) slowly slid off the desk and instantly fell to her knees. Dylan didn’t know wether or not she fell due to how weak her legs were or if it was actually intensional​ but the second she gripped his member and licked his tip, the thoughts immediately flew out of his head. Dylan’s mind now focused on her taking him into her warm mouth. His hands instinctively dug into her hair as she slowly bobbed his cock. In a matter of seconds, (Y/N) hollowed out her cheeks to make an even tighter environment for him and Dylan moaned shamelessly at the feeling.

(Y/N) absolutely loved that when her tongue grazed his wet member she could taste her juices on him and she decided to deepthroat him in appreciation. She took him in as far as she could, her nose buried in the patch of his dark hair and her throat gagging at the fullness. But, Dylan definitely loved it because his dick instantly twitched in response and he quickly pulled himself out of her mouth. His hot cum squirted out of his tip and he watched with hooded eyes as it painted her blushed cheeks. Normally, (Y/N) would never allow any man do such a thing to her but the way Dylan was looking at her with pure pleasure and enjoyment swimming in his dark pupils was enough to make her want it to happen again. His liquid dripped from her face and made its way down her breasts, Dylan unable to contain his groans at the sight.

“So, I’m guessing this is your kink.” She chuckled, coating one of her fingers with his release and putting it into her mouth.

“One of many.” Dylan smirked, extending his hand for her to grab with her free one.

They stared at each other with satisfaction in their eyes as he helped her stand, both of them simply knowing without the need to actually say that that was the best sex the two ever had.

“I’ll be right back.” Dylan stated, placing a lingering kiss on her lips before walking away and disappearing into his bathroom.

One of (Y/N)’s eyebrows quirked at the sudden sound of water from a sink running momentarily but, when he returned to her with a small and damp towel in his hands, everything made sense. He kindly wiped away the now sticky cum on her skin and she smiled up at him.

“Now about that date.” Dylan grinned, throwing the towel on the desk when he was done cleaning her body. “How does the premiere to my new movie with a romantic dinner afterwards sound?”

“A first date in the eyes of the public?” She questioned, challenging him. “Borderline crazy.”

“So, is that a yes?” He smirked and (Y/N) instantly laughed.

“Definitely yes.”

In One Piece

Alex pinched the bridge of his nose before hissing through gritted teeth, “You told me to come home t’yeh, an’ while I’m out there nearly dyin’, you’re here playin’ house with some bloke?”

or

Alex returns home from Dunkirk to some very unpleasant and unsettling news.

Keep reading

5 Years

- You and Harry are poor and Harry hasn’t seen Anne in years. He misses her so much that you suprise him with plane tickets to visit her.

A/N: This is quite short, but it’s such fluff I am in love.

Masterlist linked in bio.


“This is shit! All of this is shit!”

Harry’s hands violently shoved all his crumbled pieces of paper and music journals off of the kitchen table before pounding the sides of both of his fists against the wood, refusing to contain all the frustration that had only seemed to increase inside of him any longer.

He had been trying to write new music for the past three weeks. After visiting the local record label for what felt like the hundredth time since he’s moved from home, they still refused to sign him until he figured out a way to produce music that “didn’t sound like everything else.” He’s tried everything—from writing about his love life to writing about all the angry shit scrambled inside his head—yet nothing seemed to gain their interest.

At that point, Harry had run out of ideas. There was absolutely nothing else he could think of writing about that he hasn’t already, and it was as if every possibility of making music in his future had suddenly turned into a false hope.

It was all he had, though—writing and producing music was the only thing he had going for him and the only chance he had to make money. But it was so much harder than he ever thought possible, for he had been trying for years to gain recognition for his creations, yet nothing came to his avail.

He was on the brink of giving up on everything at that moment—everything.

“Fucking shit!”

Y/n ran from their shared bedroom into the kitchen after hearing the chaos Harry had riled up. By the time she reached the dining table—which was normally used both as a place for them to eat and Harry’s office—he was an absolute wreck. Between the mess upon the floor and the cries that seemed to obstruct the silence that had once been, she had absolutely no idea what to do.

“Harry, wh—what?”

“I can’t—I can’t live like this anymore!” He sobbed, his head in his hands as his lungs began to fail him through his words.

He couldn’t continue living through their financial crisis; between his dead-end attempts to make a career out of his music and Y/n’s minimum wage salaries, it was nearly impossible for them to live a life they both deserved. Their memories were trapped inside an apartment that could barely fit the two of them, all their passionate nights were shared on a mattress with no bed frame, and their life together remained stagnant for far too long.

Harry loved her more than he’s ever loved anything before, and the thought was enough to terrify him.

She deserved so much better than him—she deserved a man that could provide her with all her needs and wants. She deserved every bit of the earth and Harry could barely offer her a fraction of it. He could only provide her with his love and the scraps he made from his failures.

She deserved so much more than him.

“Oh, baby.” She whispered.

She kneeled down to where he was sitting, pressing her forehead to his as she played with the hairs that raided the nape of his neck. She was well aware of how hard their living situation was—especially for him.

He worked hard enough for the both of them. He worked relentlessly, often times skipping meals or refusing to have a proper night’s sleep until he had something done—whether it was a new song idea or even a newly written verse. Stress took over his every move and Y/n knew he wasn’t living a healthy lifestyle.

He was losing himself slowly, and it pained Y/n beyond words to see him live the way he was. She wished she could offer him more help than she was already giving him, but she was busy, too, and she never felt more upset with herself.

“I need my mum.”

The words he’d spoken an innumerable amount of times fell from his lips without much thought.

He hadn’t seen her since he decided to move away with Y/n, which was four years ago at the time. He had sacrificed his entire life to start a new one with Y/n. He figured that moving away with her to a different city would be his opportunity to start fresh on his music career and start making enough money for him, Y/n, and his family.

He had sketched plans upon backup plans to get his music going. He searched through all the different venues, music companies, music managements—everything he could think of—and spent nearly every hour practicing and writing.

He never expected that what he had to offer wasn’t good enough.

To those he showed his music to, there was a list of improvements they felt he had to make. They claimed that his music was either too mainstream or too different, and there was absolutely no in between. He found himself in a rut with his creations and it was far too late to move back in with his family since he nor Y/n were making enough money to pay their rents, bills, and a plane ticket back home.

Anne wasn’t able to afford visiting him either, though, so there was absolutely nothing the either of them could do besides wait until Harry’s music career started to take off—if it ever did.

He missed Anne more than anything. Although he was in love with spending every day with Y/n and getting to experience all of his miserable life with her, he missed the feeling of his mum being around him all the time. He missed absolutely everything about her, especially when he had his emotional breakdowns.

She was his rock and his provider his entire life, and he relied on her for everything until he decided to move away. She kept him sane through all his hectic times and was there for him when nobody else was.

Anne wasn’t only his mum, but she was his best friend, and continuing to live without knowing when he’d be able to see her again was Harry’s own personal hell.

“I know, darling.” Y/n whispered as she let his tears soak her shirt and his body shake in her arms.

He kissed her where her heart was as he squeezed her more into him. His entire world was in his arms and he’s never needed the weight of it more.

“Don’t ever think I regret my life with you, love, please don’t. But my mum, Y/n, my mum—I miss her so much. Phone calls don’t mean shit to me because I’m not w—with her.”

She only nodded, letting him vent to her without any interruption. It brought her comfort whenever Harry was having a breakdown, as sick as it sounded—it just brought her peace knowing that he was letting out all of the emotions he kept in for her sake. He was human, after all, and he deserved to have his moments.

“I need her, Y/n. I need her to hold me and tell me that everything is going to be okay. I need her to kiss me and tell me how proud she is of me even though I’ve done nothing but fail those around me—like I fail you—and just hold me like she did when I was a kid.”

She shook her head instantly, slowly pushing his body away from hers in order to her eyes to meet his. They were red and soaked with tears, but they were beautiful and was always what got her weak in the knees.

The pads of her thumbs wiped away the tears that fell onto his cheeks, making sure to kiss him a couple of time while doing so.

“You never fail me, Harry. You give me a new reason to fall in love with you every single day and I thank God for you every time I look at you. Your love never fails me, nothing you do fails me. So never think that again, you hear me?”

And she really meant it more than ever, especially in that moment of Harry’s vulnerability. Her heart always hurt knowing that he wasn’t aware of how much she actually did give her, even if it wasn’t materialistic. Nobody provided her with as much love and safety as he had, and it was something she’d never be able to get enough of.

He got her through all her troubled times and all her insecure moments. She needed him and wanted him more than anything money could buy, and she’d spend the rest of her dying days attempting to make him believe it.

“You’ll see your mum soon, okay? If I can promise you one thing, it’s that you’ll see her soon.“

She kissed his cheeks again before they sat in silence together, all wrapped up in each other’s arms as they waited for Harry to finally calm down. They hadn’t found a lot of time within the past three weeks to spend loads of time together, so even just the half hour of holding one another was enough to mend him quite quickly.

“Can you promise me something else?” He breaks the silence, his voice slightly hoarse from the screaming that took place earlier.

She nodded.

“Can you promise me that whenever I see my mom again, that you’ll be there? I want you to meet her so properly and make her see why I want to marry you someday. I really want her blessing.”

She ran her fingers through his hair, grazing her lips softly against his forehead before muttering a small “I promise.”


That was a year ago.  

Ever since that night, Y/n made it her first priority to find a way for Anne and Harry to reunite. She never wanted to see that side of Harry again, and she’s been through the God awful pain that came from missing a parent. Y/n had lost both of her parents in a car accident, and she never wanted Harry to go through what she had to for the following years.

So, she started working double shifts at her job—gathering and saving as much money as she possibly could for a couple of months straight. Airfare was quite expensive, especially since she planned on buying two round-trip tickets and intended on being able to pay the rent and bills for that month and somehow buy food and necessities during the trip.

She intended on leaving it a surprise for Harry, as well, and was able to make up plenty of excuses as to why she wasn’t able to be at home as much. He was quite upset, but she found it was quite easy considering Harry was keeping busy with his music throughout that time as well.

To say she was exhausted was an understatement. She had never worked so hard in her life and never thought she had it in her to make as much money as she did. It made the living situation slightly easier during the time. She knew every lost hour of sleep and every extra second spent working would all be worth it in the end.

And it was all worth it, especially now.

The confirmation for her order is right in front of her; two round trip tickets to Holmes Chapel. It’s a sight she’s been desperate to see for a year now, and she lets out a sob as she reads the words over and over again. It’s real, it’s happening, Harry’s ticket to happiness is right in front of her and she has never felt so accomplished in her life.

As she prints out the tickets from her nearly broken down printer—that took her almost two hours to fix—she contemplates whether to wait a week for their sixth year anniversary or just go to him now and gift it to him.

But as she stares at the plane tickets in her hands, she just can’t keep it a secret any longer.

Y/n’s holding everything Harry’s needed right in between her fingertips. Everything that Harry has worked so hard for is right here, inked on printer paper right in front of her and there’s just absolutely no way in hell she can keep this information from him—he’s waited long enough.

She eagerly makes her way to their bedroom, a slight squeal leaving her lips as she makes her way to the doorway of their room. She sees Harry in the bathroom, dressed only in a pair of black boxers as he shaves the stubble under his chin.

He smiles softly upon her entrance, but quickly goes back to shaving the extra bits of his facial hair. She bites her lip at his nearly fully exposed body, but quickly regains her composure as she remembers exactly what she’s here to do.

“Sweetums?”

Harry pats the excess hair from his razor as he looks up.

“Hm?” He hums, his eyes drifting away from his reflection in the bathroom mirror over to where she stands beside their bed.

She has tears in her eyes, but they’re much different from those Harry has seen before. Normally, along with her tears comes a frown on her face and red-tinted cheeks—only the smallest examples of how much her features drown in sorrow whenever she’s upset. But as he stares at her in the way she looks now, there isn’t a trace of sadness within her. Instead, her lips are up in a slight grin and the eyes that are filled with tears are staring at him in admiration. She’s glowing, too, and he swears he wants to look at her in this way for the rest of his life.

“What’s that, love?”

He nods his head slightly, referring to the two pieces of paper that are clenched between her fingers.

She takes a step closer to him as her eyes gleam at the man she’d do anything for. She wishes nothing to be as close to him as possible in this moment, but also wants to be far enough so that she can fully see the product of a man who’ll finally be reuniting with his mother.

“I got you tickets to see your mum, Harry.”

As soon as the words leave her lips, Harry nearly chokes. He drops everything on the floor—his shaver and his comb hitting against the counter and nearly breaking to pieces around his feet. His hands grip along the edge of the sink, face paling and eyes widening at her through the bathroom mirror.

He almost thinks he misunderstood her somewhere—that maybe what she actually said got scrambled in his head to somehow make him hear what he could only dream of hearing. But her face reassures him that he did, in fact, hear her currently and that he just couldn’t believe it.

Y/n’s tears fall down her cheeks as she giggles, observing how he still hasn’t moved a single muscle and the color in his face still hasn’t returned.

“You’ll be at home for a month and you’ll be leaving in two weeks.”

She takes another step closer to him, her smile never fading as he finally lets out a choked sob. Tears are already forming in his eyes and his hands hold tighter against the sink, but words seemed to be trapped in his throat and all that his brain can process is the pounding of his chest and the air that has yet to be knocked out from his lungs.

“I know that when we talked, you said that if you ever had the chance to see your mum again that you’d want me to come with you. I figured that that would be unfair to you, since you have spent so much time with me and haven’t been able to see her in so long. I decided to compromise and—and I’m only visiting for the first week but I figured it’d be enough time to—Harry?”

Her eyes narrow i concern as she watches him nearly fall backwards from his prior position, nearly tripping over his own feet as he finally turns around to look at her properly. Neither of them say anything as Harry stumbles towards her frame—eyes still bewildered and face still pale. He nearly trips over the sheets on the floor, but he quickly regains his balance before his hands find their way upon her cheeks.

He wants to say everything he’s thinking—he wants to tell her how thankful he is and how much he loves her. He wants to express every ounce of gratitude and give her everything she’s ever deserved in this moment. Hell, he wants to get on his fucking knees and worship all the blessings she’s ever given him and love on her until she can barely speak anymore. But all that falters nearly seconds after he reaches her.

“Harry—“

He sobs—complete soul shaking sobs. Everything he’s feeling completely overwhelms him to the point where he ends up on his knees. His body collapses and his lungs are constricted but he has never felt so good in his life.

Y/n falls with him, cradling him again her chest as she presses chaste kisses along his forehead. Her hands rub up and down his back in an attempt to calm him from his cries, but he doesn’t back down. He’s hasn’t felt this amount of happiness in so long that he feels there’s nothing else his body can do.

He reaches his hands up to her face again, admiring her from what he can see between all the tears in his eyes and the squinting of his lids. He presses his lips to hers, but the kiss doesn’t last long before he’s sobbing again—bringing her face down to the dip of his shoulder while he holds her there.

She giggles, shaking her head softly.

“Didn’t I promise you, love?”

Forbidden (harry styles au)

ahi hi hi, i know it’s been so long. sorry. i’m trying to enjoy my last few days of break before hell breaks loose. this is a smutty writing piece because it was that kind of mood and i haven’t posted any writing in a while so i apologize. hope you enjoy! xx M 

Originally posted by kissableandsexy

warning: contains mature content (mostly smut) 


“Mother, I will not get married to a man I hardly know!” Princess Y/N shouts at her mother with an angry and frustrated tone. 

“Y/N! You do not have a choice. We need our allies and if that means giving you away to another kingdom, then we shall do it.” The Queen speaks in a firm, condescending tone as she glares at her daughter with cold eyes.

Y/N feels the tears well up in her eyes, “But I do not even know who this man is. I haven’t even seen him and you’re already discussing a wedding date when I haven’t even met the man!”

The Queen lets out an exasperated sigh, sitting down next her daughter on the cushioned bench in the palace library. It was a place Y/N came whenever she was upset because no one ever came in here except her. 

“Look sweetheart,” she puts a hand on her shoulder as if she’s trying to comfort her but it doesn’t help at all. “We need an alliance and the Kingdom of Saphina want an alliance too. This is why we need to have a political marriage otherwise if there is a rebellion, we won’t have anyone to fight with us. We will lose our men.”

Y/N closes her eyes, clenching her dress in her hand tightly because she knows it’s a lie or at least, there’s some things that her mother is leaving out. Like how her selfish Father wants more land and giving away his daughter to a large and powerful kingdom such as Saphina will cause him to gain more power. Is her mother even aware of that? Of how selfish that is?

Keep reading

Transparent Crystalline Solid (intro)

Bucky Barnes x (enhanced)Reader

Notes: (the usual) troubled pasts, swearing, smut, fluff, angst/heartbreak.

A/N: All new! I had inspiration slap me straight across the face, and here we are! This one might hurt a little, but y’all know me, I’m a sucker for a happy ending. 

Summary: Bucky has charm, looks, a great smile, and he knows how to talk to a lady. The thing is, he does know it. Bucky’s a womaniser, there’s no doubt about it. But when he lays eyes upon the newest addition to the team, he might’ve found a reason to change his ways. Unfortunately, he knows he’s a coward, and he knows change isn’t easy. Lying.. is so much easier. 

Ice: frozen water, a brittle transparent crystalline solid.


Originally posted by winter-capricorn


The first time she catches Bucky’s eye, he knows he has to have her. One way or another, he has to. Here he was, minding his own business, enjoying a smoke on one of the compound’s huge balcony’s, when Stark ushered this girl -no, woman- in through the elevator doors.

“Come on in, Y/N, welcome to the Avengers, and this..” Tony waves his arm around in a dramatic-only-Stark-can-pull-it-off fashion, “is the living room.. Sort of speak”

The woman -Y/N- laughs, a soft and guarded sound, but no less beautiful because of it, and nods, “This is pretty crazy, Tony. Pepper didn’t exaggerate”

“Do I ever?” Pepper comes walking in from the other direction and smiles a warm smile towards Y/N. “It’s so good to see you again. I’m glad you finally decided to come” she says as she wraps her arms around Y/N and squeezes.

Y/N returns the gesture with warmth, and Bucky can’t help but desperately wanting to be on the receiving end of such an embrace.

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haikyuu!! fic rec

i’ve been consuming unreasonable amounts of hq!! fic these past few months… here’s a rec list of ~70 fics for 16 ships. 

(edit: if the links aren’t working, right-click to open the fic in a new tab. sorry;;)

❤ = favorite

❤ ❤ ❤ = god-tier 

*

Bokuto/Akaashi (otp: my head, his heart)

the better boyfriend battle by norio (M)  ❤

Summary:  It’s two days after their first date anniversary, so Bokuto ruins Akaashi’s life.

i put my hand out, unfolded, into the sunlight by carafin (G)  ❤

Summary:  In which Bokuto Kotarou is woefully inept at conveying his feelings, and Akaashi Keiji has a sort-of superpower. Sort of.

Karma by dgalerab (T)

Summary: Akaashi pulls a muscle and Bokuto offers to help him with yoga. Akaashi knows a bad idea when he sees it, and he really only agrees because he’s suddenly acquired a deeply rooted desire to see Bokuto do yoga.For multiple reasons.

Maybe We’re Airborne, Baby by sterlinglee (T)

Summary: Realizing he’s got it bad for his setter is the easy part. Getting his feelings across might be the hardest thing Bokuto’s ever done, not counting his literature final or putting out the flames on that birthday cake he tried to bake for Akaashi last year, or—or a lot of things, actually.But the point still stands. Reaching out to Akaashi is a leap in the dark, and he wants it more than he’s ever wanted anything (especially the smoking remains of a cake he baked before he really understood his feelings, but knew that it’s what you attempt with your own two hands that matters).

snowflakes by arsenicjay (T)

Summary: Bokuto is a simple wizard with simple needs; a nice date, a little romance, and he’s all good to go.Or, Akaashi and Bokuto spend a day in Hogsmeade just before Christmas.

stating the obvious by ThinkingCAPSLOCK (G)

Summary:  There’s a lot of things Bokuto isn’t sure about now that he’s in university. His program, his new team, his future. There’s only one thing he’s absolutely sure of. He is not dating Akaashi Keiji. Not even a little bit.

Year-Round Love by masi (G)

Summary:  In his first year of university, Bokuto realizes that he really adores Akaashi.

Rest of the rec list under the cut!

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anonymous asked:

leo i love your meta so much! Pls make sheith/zaggar parallel post, i love the possible parallels between these two couples especially when they both went against each other in s1 finale^^

Oh thank you! And ya, sure thing! There’s…a lot. Honestly it’s hard for me not to read sheith as romantic, especially when all these parallels are drawn to two characters who are clearly a loving couple. So, sheith and zaggar parallels:

  • Zarkon proves that the black paladin’s fatal flaw is love. Seeing as Keith and Shiro are both black paladins themselves, their willingness to go to immeasurable lengths just to keep each other safe is unsurprising. Shiro trying to fight every one of their potential allies just to protect Keith, Keith valuing Shiro’s safety over the mission time and time again–it’s obvious they’re both willing to make big sacrifices when the other’s life is on the line. Just like how Zarkon is willing to give up everything for Honerva. 
    • In Keith’s case this is especially true, as there’s a great deal of foreshadow that he’ll eventually have to choose between saving Shiro and carrying out his duty as a paladin–a conflict that perfectly mirrors Zarkon. It’s a theme we see again and again–in Keith’s trial, when they lose Shiro and Keith is unable to move on, when he vows to save Shiro “as many times as it takes.” He loves Shiro above all else, and just like Zarkon, he’d go to great lengths to save his love.
  • The fact that we see Zarkon caring for Honerva when she’s ill and Keith tending Shiro’s bedside–and that these scenes are just a few episodes apart–I don’t think thats coincidental. It draws a clear parallel. Both Honerva and Shiro are cared for by the person who loves them most (both of whom are also galra black paladins)
    • In Honerva’s scene, Zarkon asks her what she needs, fully prepared to do whatever he has to so long as it ensures her safety. No matter what. In Shiro’s scene, Keith vows he’ll alway be there to save him “as many times as it takes.”
  • When Haggar looks into Zarkon’s mind, she finds fond memories of herself reflected there. When Keith’s mind is projected through his trial in BOM, Shiro sees that he’s one of Keith’s greatest desires, the person he most “desperately wants to see.”
  • When Zarkon is out of commission, Haggar tells him that his people need him. When Shiro is still in recovery, Keith tells him that his team needs him.
    • Even though Haggar and Keith both claim that their loved one must come back for the sake of others, it’s obvious they’re the ones who need their respective loved ones the most
  • Both Shiro and Zarkon are incapable of fighting in season 3, and Keith and Haggar must take up more of a leadership role in their absence. They also do this out of love and respect for their respective loved one’s wishes.
  • Haggar is the only one who stays by Zarkon’s bedside so no one else sees how bad his condition is. Shiro says he might not be up to letting the other paladins see him just yet, and so for a time Keith is the only one at his bedside.
  • I always thought the way Keith tenderly reaches out and turns Shiro’s face to him read as distinctly romantic. So of course, Zarkon also holds Honerva’s cheek and gently turns her to face him as well. Shiro and Honerva are also both unwell and being cared for by their respective loved ones during these scenes. 
  • In both these scenes, we also see that Shiro and Honerva’s hair have turned white for the first time. We can deduce from Honerva’s past and habit for experiments that Shiro’s hair probably also changed as a result of overexposure to quintessence. 
  • Red paladin Alfor is the one who tries to convince Zarkon to abandon Honerva’s research and the rift. If Zarkon told him what was really going on, I have no doubt Alfor would tell him he had to give up on Honerva because his plan just wasn’t worth the risks. Similarly, it’s both the new red paladin and Alfor’s daughter who are the ones that really push Keith to stop grieving Shiro and move on–to carry out his duty as a paladin without him. (Allura: “It is time to think about finding a new pilot for the black lion.” Lance: “But you know he would be the first one to tell us that we have to move on.”)
    • And just like how Zarkon is unwilling to sacrifice Honerva, Keith is still determined to save Shiro, refusing to abandon him: “No, I’m gonna find him! Shiro is the one person who never gave up on me, I won’t give up on him.
  • The sheith hug is easily one of the most intimate character interactions we see. The only other two characters who hold each other in a way that’s framed as so tender and romantic are Zarkon and Honerva 
    • Another parallel: Allura is watching the sheith hug. When Zarkon and Honerva embrace, you can also see Allura’s parents looking on from the background 
  • When Zarkon is falling back into death’s grasp again, Haggar says, “Now come back for me.” After being told that Shiro had died at Kerberos and effectively seeing the person he loved most come back from the dead, Keith said, “It’s good to have you back.” 
  • The first time Zarkon pilots the Black lion, Honerva is shown staring after him in amazement. Similarly, the first time Keith pilots Black, Shiro is shown looking up at him in awe
    • The first time Zarkon uses Black, he’s saving Honerva and the rest of his people. The first time Keith pilots Black, it’s to save Shiro.
  • They’re both ships between a galra soldier and a scientist who suffered unimaginable consequences for chasing after their passion (and said scientists needed to be rescued by the galra who loved them) 
  • As you’ve said, Shiro fights Haggar and Keith fights Zarkon in the season 1 finale
    • Keith also only takes on Zarkon because he saw that Shiro was in trouble, and Shiro in turn ends up rescuing Keith from Zarkon later on

Anyway, to me, it just doesn’t make sense to set up all these parallels in the narrative if Shiro and Keith aren’t intended to be each other’s love interests. Like honestly, I’m just…not sure why they would do that…??