who's that girl world tour

Imagine Woozi feeling really happy when he sees all his fans enjoying themselves at Seventeen’s concert.

fantasizing-in-code  asked:

Hey I've gotten into Kingdom Hearts (addicted love it) a while back and kinda want to get into Final Fantasy as well. Where does one start?

Luckily, each numbered title of Final Fantasy is a standalone– so you can start pretty much anywhere in the series and not miss a beat. Some of the games have sequels, but they’re numbered so that you know they’re related (e.g. FFX and FFX-2).

Here are some of my favorites:

  • Final Fantasy VII
    • Brooding soldier boy carries a giant sword, teams up with some friends to stop a beautiful murder man from dropping a space rock on the planet
  • Final Fantasy IX
    • Klepto monkey boy and his band of merry men try to kidnap a princess, get entangled in the political intrigue of a world at war
  • Final Fantasy X
    • Kid with a funny laugh and daddy issues goes on a world tour with a cute girl who can summon large monsters to help her defeat an even larger monster
  • Final Fantasy X-2
    • Aforementioned cute girl goes on a world tour with two other cute girls who use Sailor Moon transformations to beat people up on their quest to find her boyfriend and maybe save the world idk
  • Final Fantasy Type-0
    • Group of kids named after playing cards relentlessly tease a moogle, find time to save the world between class periods
  • Final Fantasy XV (Duh… hahahahaha)
    • Royal boy band on important diplomatic mission to unite two nations through marriage, takes constant detours to pet chocobos, snap pictures, and catch frogs
Is It That Important To Be Liked? {S.M}

requested// imagine where you are dating Shawn, and when you meet the magcon boys they don’t really like you (at first)

author’s note// hey erryone here’s an imagine with a request i honest to goodness don’t like and it’ during the magcon days ily okay and i also love illuminate i’m screaming all of the songs are freakin amazin i wanna diE

masterlist

You tapped my leg profusely, becoming extremely nervous. You were meeting Shawn’s friends. Well, maybe friends wasn’t the correct word to use for them. They weren’t all that close to Shawn and they were all extremely immature compared to Shawn. But that doesn’t mean he doesn’t respect them and wanted them to like you. If they liked you, that meant that the fans would like you, and life would be easier. You were taken out of my thoughts by Shawn placing his hand on your knee to stop the shaking. 

“You’ll be fine.” He kept the other hand on the wheel of his truck, keeping his eyes forward. You nodded, even though he couldn’t see you. You were still about to seize from the nerves of having to meet these boys. They are probably the most popular boys in the world right now. It’s like trying to get in with the popular kids on a whole new level. 

“Yeah, okay.” You sighed, trying to shake your leg again but Shawn’s hand kept a firm grip on your knee so you couldn’t. 

“Chill.” He looked over at you for a second with a smile. “If they don’t like you it’s fine. It’s not like it’s Ian or Lauren.” You had already met Ian and Lauren, due to the fact that you all went to the same school since second grade when you moved to Toronto and you were part of that big group of friends. Eventually you and Shawn started dating and everyone already knew and liked you, and most were your very best friends. You didn’t need to fly to Miami to meet them at a closed off hotel. 

“That’s exactly it! They are all wildly attractive teenage boys who literally go on tour around the world just to meet teenage girls who are obsessed with them. I highly doubt they would ever hang out with someone like me.” You scoffed. 

“I wouldn’t say wildly attractive…” Shawn trailed off a little, jokingly. You laughed a little and hit him in the arm. You hadn’t even realized you had pulled into the hotel that Magcon was being held at. It was a really, really nice hotel. It wasn’t the traditional Holiday Inn you would stay at with your family. 

“This is like… Really nice.” You chuckled. Shawn put his truck in park and shrugged. 

“It is. I love preforming for crowds here, they are actually pretty big.” His eyes light up when he starts talking about preforming. “They really love it.” He pauses for a second, seemingly taking a moment to think about his performances. “Okay let’s go!” He opens the door to his side of the truck and hops out, quickly jogging over to your side, opening the door. He smiled,  taking your hand and helping you hop down. You gave him a weak smile. 

“So who is the one I should really try and impress.” You questioned, him taking your hand and entwining it with his as you made your way towards the front door of the hotel. 

“Well, as I said, I am not all that close with them, but I guess Matthew. I like him pretty good.” Shawn shrugged, squeezing your hand as he opened the door. “You’ll be fine.” 

The lobby was pretty, gorgeous even. It was like nothing you had ever imagined. But the boys weren’t here. 

“Where are th-” He cut you off. 

“In a back room getting ready for the meet and greet show thing. It isn’t really a show for anyone else but me if we’re being completely honest.” Shawn stated, continuing to walk forward. 

“How did you get in here without one of those security guard stopping you and where are all the girls?”  You were genuinely confused. This seemed so lowkey. 

“This is the biggest show.” We took a sharp turn to a hallway. “We had to make sure everyone would stay away from the hotel until two hours before. So all the girls are down the road. Didn’t you see them as we were driving?” He chuckled a little. 

“I wasn’t paying attention to be completely honest.” You admitted. 

“They let us in because the security recognized me and my car. Its fine.” He knocked on a door at the very end of some hallway you had make your way to. 

“Is anyone else here? Like adults and families?” You asked, hopefully getting an answer before the door opens. 

“Yes, this is a business hotel so a lot of business men and women are here, not anyone that would care about us. That all your questions for now?” The door opened a little. 

“Yep.” You gulped as two teenage boys who looked like absolute douche-bags opened the door, one holding a mountain dew and the other holding a Doritos bag. 

“Hey, come on in.” You had no clue who either of these guys were. Shawn looked at you and nodded, motioning for you two to walk into the room. It was kind of messy, bottles strewn across the carpeted floor, empty chip bags open on tables. It wasn’t a disaster, but it wasn’t pleasant. Hopefully they would clean it up. 

“Hey Shawny boy, hey Shawny boy’s girl.” Some boy with deep blue eyes that were insanely close together shouted with a mouth full of chips. This wasn’t going to be fun. 

“My name is y/n.” You snapped just a little. You officially didn’t care what these boys thought of you now. Because they didn’t seem like people you ever wanted to associate with. They all looked up, slightly shocked that a girl of moderate attractiveness and what people have been calling, “the least significant member of magcon’s” girlfriend had the nerve, and the gall, and the presumption to be slightly rude to them. One of them had a small smirk on his face as he ate his sandwich. 

“Dang she got an attitude.” One with spiky hair said with a chuckle. You felt Shawn’s arm snake around you, squeezing onto your waist a little as Shawn whispered in your ear. 

“If you want them to like you, you’re not doing a good job, darling.” He didn’t seem all that concerned though. 

“At this point, I don’t really care.” You whispered back through your teeth. You could feel him smile into your hair. 

“Shawny, how you put up with her?” Another one who looked like he was trying to be a twenty year old man but in reality looked like he was twelve laughed, his braces showing. 

“How does your mother put up with you?” You shot back, your eyes shooting daggers along with your words. His cheeks turned red as he masked his embarrassment with a laugh. 

“It was just a joke, jeez.” He looked down, picking up a pretzel. “Get your panties outta knot.” 

“Excuse me?” You asked with a condescending laugh. 

“Y/n….” Shawn squeezed your waist again, but this time you pulled his hand away. 

“No, I will not do that, because you are all being royal douches, and I am honestly shocked these teenage girls are so obsessed with you. If this is how you treat women, telling them to get their panties out of a knot just because they don’t want to put up with your crap, I just don’t understand.” You crossed your arms. “And you look like you’re twelve.” Nice touch. 

“I like her.” He looked over to Shawn, his teeth covered in braces. “She isn’t a lil wimp who will take anything. Keep her.” He looked down at the pretzels again. All of the guys laughed, one coming over and taking your hand so you would come sit with them on the couch. They started asking you questions, seemingly taking actual interest in you. 

“You paint? What do you paint? What kind of paints do you use?” It was actually very nice having boys who seemed to have no personality outside of strange antics and having nice hair take interest in you. 

Of course, a lot of them you didn’t like. They weren’t people you ever wanted to hang out with ever again. They just weren’t your people. Bland and made crappy jokes and seemed to only care about their looks. Nice people, but not your people. But it wouldn’t be hard to be nice. But at least they liked you, and that was the only goal. 

As well as surviving. You also survived. 


author’s note// idk how i feel about this but i do know how i feel about illuminate bc ITS FIRE OH MY GOSH MY SKIN IS B U R N T ITS SO FIRE !! btw yes i used irony and foreshadowing in this imagine plz get ur panties outta a knot

One Wild Night pt.2

Part One

My office happened to only be blocks away from his apartment. It still took nearly 20 minutes to get there with traffic. I walked in, remembering that I had a change of clothes in my desk, just a plain white button up and a beige pencil skirt, but anything was better than my coworkers noticing I was wearing the same thing from last night.

I quickly changed and got to work, going through a couple meetings and coming up with and collecting a few new designs to present to the head of our company for our new season which was just 2 months away. At this point it was more of just gathering decorations and putting together the venue.

As I’m gathering up my stuff from our conference room, one of the other directors, Olivia Ren, approached me.

“Hey, Y/N, can I ask you a favor?”

She was always really ice and willing to cover for me. “Yeah, of course, what’s up?”

“You know that guy, the musician, that we’re supposed to be collabing with soon? He was gonna perform at the show and do a photoshoot with a few pieces?”

I wasn’t in the PR department so I didn’t know who he was, but I knew what she was talking about. “Yeah, what about it?”

“I’m supposed to meet him for lunch in an hour, but my sister just go into a car crash and I really need to go be with her right now. Is there any way you could meet with him for me? Please?”

I can tell she’s desperate. “Yeah, of course, go ahead. Just give me the info and I’ve got you covered.”

She lets out a breath, as if she’d been holding it this whole time. “Oh my gosh, you’re great, thank you so much. I owe you big time,” she hands me a legal pad with organized bullet points and notes. “Here’s all the things you’ll need to take care of during the meeting. I’ll text you the address as soon as I get to my car. Oh, and don’t think I didn’t notice you waliking in here in the same thing you had on yesterday.” I heat up, embarrassed, I thought no one noticed! She rushes out “Thanks again!” she calls out, rushing out of the office.

***
I walk into the restaurant 15 minutes early, giving myself time to gather my thoughts and go over what Olivia wrote down. I’m slightly distracted when a group of about 6 giggling girls walks into the moderately empty cafe.

They look around curiously, and seem disappointed when they don’t find whatever or whoever they’re looking for. However they still take a seat after ordering something. It’s about 5 minutes until the exact meeting time when I pull out my phone to take down whatever we decide on for this collaboration.

Suddenly, 3 of the girls walk over to me, faces slightly red. I glance up at them. They whisper to themselves until one of them is pushed forward toward me.

“Hey, um, is there any chance you know of someone by the name of Skate, or Nate Maloley maybe?”

That’s the dude I hooked up with last night. Isn’t it? We weren’t too big on names. Man, didn’t know he was big enough to have his own fan club. “I’ve, uh, I’ve heard of him. Why?”

“Well, we heard he lives around here and he’s always at this cafe on his snap so we were hoping he’d be here now.”

“Oh, well, I hope you find him,” I say, smiling.

“Thanks,” they all say and walk back to where they were sitting.

As soon as 2:00 rolls around the cute little bell atop the cafe door rings, and the last person I thought I’d see strolls in, looking fine as ever.

The girls flock to him, one of them letting out a high pitched inhuman noise. He smiles and takes pictures and talks to them for a minute before they scurry out of the door and down the street. He takes a look around the place and when his eyes rest on me, his eyebrows raise slightly.

I give him that smile that you’d give to someone you know but not well enough to start a conversation with, and go back to my phone. A shadow soon covers the table I’m sitting at and I look up to see him.

“Hey,” I say casually.

“Hey. You know, I was planning on looking for you, but I didn’t think I’d find you this fast,” he says with a smirk spread across his edgy features.

“Really? Did I leave something at your place?” I ask.

“Yeah, me.” he says. “You skipped out without even saying goodbye.”

Oh, so this was gonna be one of those kind of talks. “Okay, look, I’m supposed to be meeting with someone right now, so could we possibly have this conversation later?”

“How? I don’t even know your name! And I’m supposed to be meeting someone too, so I guess we can wait together.”

Suddenly, everything clicked and I felt like an idiot. He’s the musician we’re collabing with. God help me.

“Is there any chance you’re supposed to be meeting with a brand called CRWDS?”

“Yeah, actually, how do you know?”

“I’m the rep they sent out to meet you,” I say on a deep breath. “Take a seat we have a lot to discuss and not a lot of time.”

“Then why don’t we meet up again for dinner tonight?” he suggests, smiling at me.

I glare at him and change the subject, starting with the stuff Olivia put down. Once we’re towards the end of the to do list, Nate goes off topic again.

“So, you’re name’s Olivia?” he asks.

“No, I’m just filling in for her.”

“Then what’s your name?”

“I told you last night, that’s unnecessary information.”

“Why don’t you want me to know your name? Do you not like it? Is it sacred or something? Am I just not special enough yet?”

He leans forward a little and I’m drawn to him, my ears tuning out everything except the sound of his breath and whatever he’s about to say.

HIs voice low and deep, “Sweetheart, we’re gonna be seeing each other a lot from now on. At the photoshoot, and the show, and at all the meetings in between,” he said, reaching out to play with one of my hands on the table. “So will you please, please do me the honor of just willingly telling me your name? Because I really want to get to know you better and, call me crazy, but I think that should start with at least knowing your name.”

I just look at him for a minute, as he plays with my fingers, somehow speaking to me through those dopey, joy-filled eyes.

“Y/N,” I say, glancing back down at the sandwich I ordered myself, “My name’s Y/N.”

“Well, it’s nice to meet you Y/N, I’m Nate.” I can’t help but let out a laugh as he holds his hand out as if I’m supposed to shake it, which I do.

We start talking as if we’re new friends, getting to know each other over the next hour. Once we finish our lunch and as I begin to gather my things he says, “You never told me why it was such a big deal for you,” when I looked at him with a questioning look, he continues, “The whole name thing.”

“It just… it makes everything a lot more personal than I intend for it to be,” I say, making no eye contact.

He collects his stuff too and we stand together. As soon as we’re face to face he steps closer, a huge grin on his face. “Is that your way of saying you wanna be personal with me…again?”

I lightly push his shoulder and say, “This is supposed to be a business meeting,” but can’t help but smile.

“Well then why don’t you take me up on my offer and come to dinner with me tonight for a different kind of meeting?”

I want to so, so bad. But I know we can’t. I’ve seen the way rappers like him act, the life they live. And I don’t have any problems with drinking and smoking, but I don’t know how to deal with being a face that tons of people will see and judge.

I don’t know how to be the girl who sits around while they tour the world and hook up with countless girls without even thinking about what’s back home. I’ve watched too many of my friends cry over someone who didn’t actually care about anything but the music and the life they lived.

I can’t be one of them. I’m not gonna sit there and listen to all of these girls judge me not just because I’m dating someone they love but also because I’m a different race than them. The first time I dated someone outside of my race, meeting their family was a disaster. And that didn’t stop me from dating whoever I wanted to after, but I never wanted to get close to them anymore. And if that was my experience with one family, what about an entire fandom?

And I’m sure all of them won’t be judgmental, but I’m not as strong as my idols. I don’t know how to stand up to the stereotypes I’m put against.

So I end up saying, “I can’t… be that with you, Nate.”

His face falls slightly but he quickly covers up the disappointment I already noticed. “Why not, Y/N? I could’ve been totally off, but I felt like last night we had something,” I did too, “I haven’t felt like that in a long time, and I really don’t want to pass this up. And by the look on your face, I don’t think you do either.”

I can’t help but be honest, “I don’t. I don’t wanna pass this up either.”

“Then what’s the problem lil mama? Huh? I can’t fight it when I don’t know what I’m up against.”

I contemplate just telling him I can’t, but I know that I want him, and that my whole life as an adult I haven’t let other people stand in the way of what I want, so why should they now? “It’s the whole up and coming rapper thing. I just don’t know if I can deal with the whole tour and groupies thing. But I’ll tell you what. I think we’d be really good in a friends with benefits type of relationship,” he raises his eyebrow as if questioning but interested, “because I really do want you. And it’d be nothing serious, no one has to know. Just me and you together when we feel like it.”

He stays silent for a moment, just staring at me. I can’t tell what, but it’s obvious some ideas are being thought through in his head. Finally, he speaks, “I want to be more than that. I want to learn more about you, prove to you that I’m worth getting personal with. Spend time with you inside and outside the bedroom. Please, Y/N, just give me a chance.”

He really had me about to break every rule I’d made up over the past few years to protect myself. And the weirdest part was, I wanted to do it. I wanted it so bad. 
“Fine,” I finally say, he gives me that mischievous grin again and pulls me in for a hug. “But we go at my pace. I’ve never really done this.”

“Dating?” I nod. “Really? Well then I guess I’ll have to make it a good one. Can I pick you up at 7?”

We exchange numbers and I give him my address and all that other stuff. And I walk out of the cafe and head back to work feeling lighter and happier than I did before. Because I had a really good feeling about him. About us.

Masterlist

Prompt List

——
A/N:

Thanks for reading, hope you liked it! Oh my gosh it’s taken me so long to get this out and I feel so bad. Like at this point I’m only sprouting out like 1 imagine a month and its probably because I’ve been busy with school and friends and I just applied for an early college course but I don’t even know if I wanna do it and I found out that the school I wanna go to would probably put me $100,000 dollars in debt at the least especially since I have no scholarships or grants yet and I’m this close to failing my math class and I don’t want what I put out for you guys to be shit and sorry this is a long sentence I just needed that off my chest. I just gotta remember I have time. Besides, after next week I’m out for Christmas break, my exams will be over and I’ll have a good couple of days to dedicate myself to this. I’ll also be in the process of moving, but that’s probably not gonna happen until after the New Year. Anyways, REQUESTS ARE OPEN, in case you were wondering. Feel free to send in imagine/blurb requests on anyone already on my masterlist or in the tags of my masterlist or just someone somewhat related to the people I write about.

I don’t plan on making a part 3 for this, however if you want me to I’m completely willing. Also, I’m 1 follower away from 900 so thanks for that, especially y’all that stay on my activity page and in my biggest fans list. It means a lot to me. Sorry this was such a long note.

Peace,
that-fandom-tho.

Wrong Number pt.3 || G-eazy

| Quite a few of you have been asking for a part 3 of Wrong Number so here it is. Part 1 - Part 2

You walked hand and hand with Gerald as the two of you ran across the parking lot. Gerald pulled you closer and spun you around making you giggle. How about we do a little recap, yeah? 

After you met Gerald in person for the very first time, you had grown closer. Gerald had started moving his schedule around so he could spend more time with you. You started listening to his music and got really into it. About a month ago Gerald popped at your door without an warning. 

He told you all about his upcoming tour and asked you if you would come along. Without an hesitation you agreed. It was currently week 3 of the tour, Gerald had just finished a show a few hours ago and you were off to the next state. 

Gerald let go of your waist and continued walking, you reached down lacing your fingers together and you walked towards to plane. 

“It’s crazy.” Gerald laughed.

“What’s crazy?” You smiled turning around and facing him. 

“Just about a year ago I called some poor girl up around 2 am and rambled on about how fucked up I was. It’s crazy that that same girl who answered my drunk call would end up touring the world with me as my best friend.” He sighed pulling you closer to him and wrapping his arms around you. 

“I get it.” You said into his chest. “Who would have thought some stranger was gonna mean so much to me.” 

“Honestly, I ca even begin to imagine how my life would be if I never met you, like you’ve become such a normal part of it and it’s insane to think one wrong number could a have prevented all of this from happening.” Gerald huffed, tightening his grip on you. 

“Alright you two we gotta go.” One of the crew yelled.

“We’re comin’.” Gerald yelled back. You let out a small laugh. Gerald played with your hands as he thought up what to say next. 

“Y/N?” He said looking into your eyes.

“Yeah?” You hummed.

“I like you, Like a lot.” Gerald bite on his lip. “Like I said, I can’t imagine how different things would be if you weren’t around. Yeah, you’re my bestfriend and all but I wanna be more.” A blush crept upon your cheeks. 

“Is G-Eazy asking me to be his girlfriend?” You laughed. 

“He is.” Gerald smirked.

“Yes. I’ll be your girlfriend.” You smiled, leaning up and kissing his cheek.

“Okay, cool.” He said rubbing your knuckles. “Let’s go.” He said intertwining your fingers and walking towards the plane.

Imagine Based off of “Trust”

The morning sun that snuck its way through the white blinds didn’t bother me, the neighborhood kids that never failed to make the most noise at eight in the morning didn’t bother me, the constant ringing of Justin’s phone didn’t bother me, nothing bothered me. I blinked a few times more before reaching over to feel the warm body that was pressed against mine all night; the small smirk that rested on his plump lips as he slept made my heart melt, his messy hair, and his shirtless body made my stomach do flips–everything about him made me excited and emotional all at the same time. Maybe the fact that I was happy at this very moment is what made me so nonchalant about my surroundings that would usually irritate me, but right now that didn’t matter. 

I scooted closer to Justin’s sleeping body before digging my face into the crook of his neck. His big hand naturally moved to hold me closer, wrapping me into his warmth. I closed my eyes and kept them closed for what felt like ever before I felt a pair of lips press to the top of my head. I slowly let my eyes flutter open to meet the morning sun once again, and smiled up at Justin.

“Good morning,” Justin rasped, before pulling me closer as if that were possible.

“Morning,” I sighed, my lips curling into a small smile.

Without saying another word, Justin placed his lips on top of mine and quickly removed them before rolling out of bed. I sat up in bed and watched him as he grabbed his phone and headed to the bathroom–what he does every morning.

Most days are spent with Justin on his phone and me sitting there by his side as insecure as possible. I’m usually not an insecure person and I never was, but dating someone who was so well-known, headlining a huge world tour, had girls throwing themselves at him, and previously dated a Disney Star and singer: the insecurity was inevitable. And that bothered me.

Trust him, trust him.  

I should trust him, he hasn’t given me any reason to not but every time his phone goes off I can’t help but think that he’s talking to another girl. What if its Selena? Hailey? Chantel? What if its any girl from his past that he finds himself still thinking about? 

My thoughts were interrupted by Justin reappearing into the bedroom, he tossed his phone on the bed before jumping back into his previous spot he had consumed next to me. 

“Whatcha thinkin’ about?” He asked.

I shook my head in response as if to say nothing, and he nudged me.

“Babe-” He started, but I pushed myself up from the bed and tied my hair up in a ponytail.

“What do you want for breakfast?” I interrupted, knowing that if I didn’t at least try to change the subject we would start fighting again

This was an everyday thing: Justin would wake up, be on his phone, my insecurities would jump into play, I would suspect something, he would catch onto my attitude, and we would fight. Every. Day. Did he know the reasoning about our new founded routine? Nope.

It’s not a normal couple thing to do, fighting with your significant other shouldn’t be a daily routine, but it is for us. And it is because I let myself get in the way, making me believe that Justin deserves better than an insecure woman. 

“Nothing,” Justin answered, with a roll of his eyes, “I’m gonna head over to the studio.” 

“Justi-” 

“No, I’m tired of this. I’m tired of waking up to an attitude, to a fight, to you not telling me what is going through your mind,” Justin yelled, our fight now mixing in with the neighborhood kids’ yells of playfulness,  “I’m not stupid, I know when something is bothering you and something has been bothering you for the past couple of weeks, but you can’t tell me.” 

I stood there with my arms crossed across my chest and watched as Justin slid off his basketball shorts and slid on a pair of jeans, wishing that I would just tell him what was bothering me. I bit on my bottom lip in attempt to stop myself from crying. Why was telling him that I’m insecure in this relationship so hard? Do I want this relationship to end? Of course not. Do I want him to feel like he can’t make me happy? No, never. But, this relationship was draining me.

Justin pulled on a t-shirt before looking up at me with a questioning look, expecting me to tell him what was on my mind, “So, you really aren’t going to tell me?” 

I stood there silently. 

“Glad to see that you could trust me, babe.” He said sarcastically, with a small chuckle before slipping his shoes on, and grabbing his keys off of his nightstand, “I’ll see you later, I guess.” He stomped out of the bedroom and down the stairs and I walked out after him. 

“Justin,” I said, my voice shaking as I spoke.

He ignored me as he walked the opposite way of the front door, leading him to the kitchen. I walked down the stairs, and followed his path. He was digging through a box of granola bars, and I knew he was looking for his favorite flavor–chocolate chip. 

“Do you want me to make you breakfast?” I asked.

“I don’t want anything from you,” He spat, “Until you decide to be an adult and tell me what’s bothering you, I expect nothing.”

“Don’t-”

“Don’t what? Don’t what? I am so tired of waking up to a fight. You’re constantly bothered by something I do obviously, but you don’t want to confront me about it. Am I supposed to just be okay with that?” Justin blurted out, “I am exhausted, this always fighting thing is exhausting.”

“And you don’t think I’m exhausted?” I shot back.

Justin closed the pantry and set his granola bar down before looking up at me, “You’re the reason that we’re fighting. Something is bothering you, tell me. We both wouldn’t be exhausted if you just spoke up.”

Again, I stayed silent. 

“See, you’re giving up on this,” Justin said, pointing from me to him, “You’re the reason that this is close to ending, and you’re obviously okay with that.” He turned to walk out of the kitchen, but I stepped in front of him.

“You still have feelings for her don’t you?” I blurted out without thinking. Justin furrowed is brows in confusion and threw his arms up. 

“For who?” 

“Selena? Hailey? Whoever you’ve been involved with in the past? Any of them?” I replied quietly.

“You’re not being serious right now,” Justin chuckled, “Really? You’re asking me that?” I nodded, not knowing what else to even say. Justin rubbed his temples in frustration before walking past me.

“Justin-”

“Look, if I still cared for them I wouldn’t be with you. I am with you because I love and care about you. Not them. Never have I ever doubted us and my feelings for you, I’ve never showed interest in any other girl since I’ve been with you,” Justin rambled, cutting me off. “I really don’t get it. Is that the reason behind our fighting? Because you think I have a hard time getting out of my past? God, I thought I was a good boyfriend. I’ve been nothing but good to you!” 

“I’m not saying that, if you would let me talk!” I screamed in frustration. “I’m drained. From you. From me. From this.” I said pointing from him to me. 

His eyes dropped from the eye contact that we were holding, and he bit the inside of his cheek before speaking again and looking up at me, “Then what are you saying? You want to break up?” 

“I’m just saying I’m insecure, I don’t want to feel this way. I don’t want to have to live with this doubt that you may or may not want me anymore. What if you’re out somewhere and a fan approaches you, a really really really pretty fan. Would you still want me?” I asked, I felt the tears building up in my eyes and I tried my best to blink them away. “I don’t want you to hold back. If you find better I want you to have better, even if its not me.” 

“Babe,” Justin said as he walked over to me, “How do you think I feel about you?” 

“Well, I know you love me-” 

“Then that’s your answer. I love you so much, so much. It’s hard, trust me. I know it is. The pressure on us is a lot, but we have to trust each other. The fact that you’re used to having your personal life private is going to be a change considering nothing for us could ever be private. There are so many people watching us, so many fans that don’t approve of this. But, we can’t let that separate us. You can’t let it bring you down,” Justin said as he inched closer to where I was standing. 

I looked down at my feet before looking up at him again, “I know it’s a change, I know I have to get passed the insecurities. It’s just hard,” I sighed.

“You know what would make all of this so much easier?” Justin asked.

“Hm?” I replied as he walked over to me and wrapped his arms tightly around my body.

“If you learned to trust me.”

“I do trust you,” I replied, my arms wrapping around his torso, my face finding its place in the crook of his neck.

“If you want the best for us, like I want the best for us then we gotta learn how to trust each other. I won’t let us break,” Justin whispered before pulling away slightly and placing a kiss on my forehead. 

“I know you won’t,” I sighed, looking up into his brown eyes. 

“I got you, you got me. We got this,” He smiled, “I promise.” 

“I love you,” I breathed out.

“I love you, too,” He replied, squeezing me one last time before pulling away from our embrace all together, “But, can I still take you up on that breakfast offer?” 

I chuckled. 

Typical Justin, he always knows how to lighten the mood, even after a fight, “French toast?” I questioned, already knowing what his answer was going to be.

He nodded with a smirk, and I let out a laugh and placed my lips on his before heading to the kitchen, “That’ll be right up.”

—————————————————————————————–

Wow, okay so I’ve been SO into writing imagines lately but I never know what kind of imagines you guys would be into! So feel free to send in any requests, and I promise I could make them happen! 

paintdripps  asked:

Modern!au Prompt: Jean tries to be smooth, but the boy is about as slick as sandpaper. (So, like not at all.) Cue Eren and Jean arguing over who's got better moves--and so Marco walks in on them frantically googling cheesy pick up lines and shouting them at each other.

Oh this is good. This is very very good a+ prompt good shit

minorly nsfw, but not graphic

***

Jean growls, running his hands through his hair as he nestles deeper into one of the plush bean bags littering Eren’s room. He sets his game controller down so he can focus without accidentally starting the game back and his character is killed because he wasn’t paying attention. “Okay, being smooth and being a….a…-”

“Go ahead and say it. Slut. I embrace it because I’m honest,” Eren flourishes with his hand, setting down his drink on his nightstand so that he can fully utilize his hands for emphasis. 

Jean scoffs. “No, I was gonna say you’re the house bicycle because I’m polite-” 

“HA.” Eren barks in disbelief. 

Jean glares before continuing with his argument. “-my point is, getting around and being smooth are two different things.” 

Eren smirks and wiggles his eyebrows, relishing in the light flush that blossoms on Jean’s cheeks. “I get around because I’m smooth.” 

“You get around because you’re pan and lack standards.” Jean crosses his arms, narrowing his eyes at the young werewolf. In the background their abandoned game of Mortal Kombat continues to play a jaunty battle theme on the pause screen. 

“I have standards!” Eren protests. 

Jean only musters the flattest response possible. “Trisha.” 

Eren recoils. The memory of Trisha is one that provokes literal sickness in anyone unlucky enough to have met her. “Trisha the bar skank doesn’t count, I was drunk and could not be held accountable-”

“Excuses.” Jean shakes his head. 

Eren refuses to back down and lifts one hand to count. “But let’s list off my accomplishments: Reiner, Marco-”

Jean waves his hand to cut Eren off. “Marco’s dating us now, shithead. He doesn’t count.” 

“Fifteen year old Marco totally counts-” Eren replies smugly. “-that one time with Annie at that dance, that one girl at the place with the thing, that buff guy at Mardi Gras-hey, does getting locked in a closet with someone for 7 MInutes in Heaven count? Because one time Christa and I got locked in together.”

Jean thinks for a moment. “Did anything happen?” 

“It was pre-Ymir so I got a kiss,” Eren shrugs. He and Christa also tend to use each other as beards, but that was just acting. And Jean didn’t need to know that. 

Jean finally decides on his answer and shakes his head. “No.”

Eren frowns. “Dammit. Anyway-that one guy who rocked my world at Jazz Fest, that girl from the cemetery tour, that one nymphomaniac from some nightclub, the drag queen who wanted to be my sugar momma-”

Jean sighs and leans back into his beanbag some more, making a squish noise as his body borrows deeper into its plushy comfort. “This is what I mean. You just throw yourself out there. It doesn’t take much effort.” 

“Are you saying I’m an easy lay?” Eren questions, partially offended. 

“I’m saying you just bat your eyes and that’s it. You don’t have the fine skills in the art of seduction.” Jean tacks his finest accent to ‘seduction’ to make a point. 

Eren, for the most part, is completely unimpressed. “Suck my dick, dude.” 

“Not with that attitude, I’m not gonna.”

Eren makes a noise of frustration, pushing back his bangs before summoning his most challenging smirk in Jean’s direction. “I can totally seduce someone. I can seduce someone with the worlds worst pick up lines because I am just that good.” 

 Jean idly inspects his nails. “Oh really?”

“Yeah really!” Eren reaches for his nightstand and yanks his phone off the charger. With his eyes shooting back to Jean every few seconds he taps in a request to Google-then smiles and puts on his best bedroom eyes. Then with the most sultry voice he can, he uses the first line on the screen. “What’s your name? Because I’ll be screaming it all night long.” 

Jean freezes. That voice does things to him but he refuses to let Eren know. “…wow. That’s bad.” 

“Are you seduced?” Eren wiggles his eyebrows again. 

“I can play this game too, fucker.” Jean yanks his phone out of his skinny jeans-a feat that should get more recognition-and brings up Bing in determination. Why Bing? Because using Google is admitting defeat. “You look like a hard worker. I have an opening you can fill.”

Eren frowns and moves to the next line. “I’m having a sale in my bedroom. All my clothes are 100% off.” 

“Are you a candle? Because I’m going to blow you.” Jean smirks. 

 Eren smiles, cocking his head cutely to the side before licking his lips. “I’m French horny for your tromboner.”

Jean’s jaw drops. “Oh my god. Shut up.”

“I win!” Eren throws his hands in the air, wiggling in his beanbag in victory. 

“NO YOU DON’T-” Jean grips his phone tightly and scrolls down the list for a good line. In his determination he ends up shouting “I don’t feel so good. I think I need a shot of penis-illin!”

“Do you own a chicken farm? Because I’m sure you know how to raise a cock!” Eren shoots back. 

“Are you a drill sergeant? Because you have my privates standing at attention!” Jean is vaguely aware that they’re being a bit loud, but he has to win, dammit. His pride is at stake and Eren’s damn bedroom eyes are making his pants tight. 

“Do you mix concrete for a living? Because you’re making me hard!” Eren shifts his legs a bit, pulling his sweatshirt down to cover his crotch. He’s in a bit of a similar predicament but he needs to win. 

Thankfully the two of them are so absorbed in the argument they don’t notice the other is becoming genuinely aroused. 

“I’m no weather man but you can expect more than a few inches tonight!” Jean shouts. 

 “That shirt’s very becoming on you! If I were on you I’d be coming too!” Eren leans forward, shouting in Jean’s face as he grips his phone in white knuckles. 

Then a new voice, low and clear and dripping in southern drawl, cuts through their competition and makes the both of them shiver. 

“I may not go down in history, but I’ll go down on you.”

Marco stands in the doorway, smiling down at them in amusement. Eren and Jean make eye contact, eyes flicking down, and the both of them shift in their seats as they realize their competition has gone farther than intended. 

“….uh….hi…so um, h-how much-” Jean starts. 

Marco smiles, giggling a bit and closing the door. “I came in at the drill sergeant one.”

“Oh.” Eren shifts his legs so maybe the outline in his pants won’t be so obvious. “…so…um…”

Marco cuts him off and begins to shimmy out of his sweater. “I’m totally ready to go at it if you two are.” 

“Oh, thank god-” Eren yanks Jean out of the beanbag and leads him toward the bed. 

The Mortal Kombat game continues to play battle music, completely ignored.