why does anyone even bother to make pictures of not space

Domestic Klance Headcanons
  • Lance tries as hard as possible to sleep in for as long as possible
  • this is a difficult task considering Keith is an early riser he doesn’t even need an alarm he just naturally wakes up at 7 to work out or whatever
  • one time lance tried to wake up early enough to surprise keith with a birthday breakfast-in-bed, but of course keith didn’t get the message to sleep in and was already awake
  • they made a mess making pancakes and bacon together instead
  • lance is a neat freak. it annoys the crap out of keith because he never had to clean up for anyone else whereas lance’s mother pretty much programmed him to clean up after himself and his little siblings
  • keith affectionately labels these tirades as The Nag™…brace yourselves, The Nag is coming
  • lance can also cook??? he chops vegetables like it’s nothing and keith is alway afraid he’s going to lose a finger at the speed he’s going
  • they couldn’t decide on a color scheme for their room so it’s just a mismatched mess of soft blues and and calm grays and vibrant red and angsty black and it looks awful. but it’s theirs
  • lance convinced keith to do weekly Couple Luxury Night where they did relaxing at-home spa treatment-esque routines. he told keith it’d be fun but really it’s just an excuse for him to pamper his boyfriend and take goofy pictures in face masks and cucumbers
  • lance always fixes keith’s hair before he walks out the door because that boy does not know that bedheads aren’t acceptable. keith always pretends to be annoyed but his favorite thing is feeling lances fingers run through his hair
  • lance got them really into competitive cooking shows and naturally it turned into a heated cooking war between the two. since lance is 1000x better at cooking (keith can barely peel a potato) keith is allowed to distract him by whatever means necessary. lance is extremely susceptible to neck kisses, side tickling, and obnoxious raspberries
  • lance in aprons with flirtatious sayings
  • keith complying with the aprons’ suggestions
  • lance totally has a childhood teddy bear that he still sleeps with with named tigre (as a child he didn’t really have a clear grasp on the difference between bears and tigers). He is now señor tigre, respect the title, and is appalled when keith calls it ratty and old-looking
  • whenever lance is mad at keith he pretends keith isn’t there and complains about him to tigre
  • when keith needs comfort and can’t get any words out, lance lets him hold tigre—he might be old as hell but he is soft—and just talks to him about anything until keith feels better
  • they have matching red and blue mugs with cute lions on them
  • keith sleeps on the left side of the bed, but always manages to roll all the way to lance’s side by the morning
  • keith also has deathgrip when he’s asleep, so lance had to buy him a body pillow for those nights when lance just wants to sprawl out
  • lance taped a fucking picture of his face to the body pillow the first night keith slept with it and the next morning lance was woken abruptly by keith shrieking in terror
  • lance likes to do voices and impressions all the time to keep himself entertained and uses random objects around the house as props. keith’s reactions range from tired-of-your-shit to must-hold-in-laughter, but most of the time keith likes to film him on his phone so he can watch it again later. he says it’s blackmail material but these are keith’s videos of the lance that only he gets to see every day
  • whenever lance decides to fart in front of keith he turns it into a punchline
  • keith would never fart in front of other people because it’s fucking barbaric but he feels comfortable enough to voice his body’s concerns (oh god lance i have to fucking dump pause the tv i can’t miss gordon ramsay ripping this neglectful chef a new asshole)
  • they have a weekly chore chart with shifting roles, except keith can’t do the dishes because sticking his hands under hot water and touching grimy dishes is a nightmare for him
  • keith never likes to walk around barefoot esp in the kitchen, so lance makes it fun by gifting keith with funky socks. his most recent pair has shooting stars with a moon made of cheese at the ankle. (keith unintentionally called them cheesy and lance keeled over) keith is known at work/school as the serious guy with uncharacteristically fun socks
  • lance likes to blast music but when it bothers keith, he turns it down and sings along at a moderate volume, which keith finds comforting
  • keith: did u check between the couch cushions
  • it was between the couch cushions
  • they have a codeword for when keith misses a social cue and says something too blunt or rude, that way they can communicate easily in private and when company’s over
  • they also have a word for when lance is doing something annoyingly repetitive that keith can’t deal with
  • lance is superstitious and it’s all pretty humorous, but he never risks going to bed without saying i love you, even if they’re angry at each other. keith doesn’t understand why they need to say it out loud all the time but he knows it makes lance feel better so he doesn’t ask questions
  • some nights they like to sleep outside on the back porch so they can see the stars together, and they make their own constellations
  • when the Bad Thoughts hit lance, keith just stays with him, cradles him, strokes his hair. keith’s blunt honesty is a solace whenever lance splits
  • when lance dissociates, keith finds a simple activity for them to do together to coax him back like watching crap tv or going for a drive with the windows down
  • lance bought this weird porcelain duck cookie jar and every time keith comes into contact with it he stares it down for a good minute out of suspicion and spite
  • if either of them don’t feel like using their voice at any particular time, they bought mini whiteboards with tons of colorful markers
  • keith really likes to doodle?? its not his passion or anything but lance lets him draw on his skin and loves to show off his “new tattoo” to literally anyone
  • keith really wants a cat but lance thinks cats are too boring and moody. lance wants a dog but keith thinks they’re too high-maintenance and overwhelming
  • when they went pet shopping they became unwittingly enamored with a turtle struggling to eat a tomato. it was inspirational, and they named her Rita
  • they probably start a small garden and grow tomatoes for Rita and lance in floppy sun hats and keith digging gleefully into the earth
  • lance naming their gardening hoe keith and promptly running from an angry dirt-covered keith

im dy i ng I could go on about these dorks and their habits

if anyone wants to add anything more please do I'm thirsty for domestic klance fluff

anonymous asked:

i would give my soul to see your hcs on will and nico getting together

alright kids pile up your souls because i got a few messages to continue this and one particularly interesting review threatening to shove a beloved hamster down my throat if i didn’t so here we go

(part two to this)

  • the day that follows that morning is one of the most oddest days they’ve ever shared. it lacks in the normal amounts of bickering and the way their voices are more gentle when they speak or how they are catching each others eyes from the far corner of the room every now and then without glaring is just odd
  • nico wonders at first if it’s a bad thing. he doesn’t feel uncomfortable but he feels like he should because of the sudden shift in atmosphere between them. 
  • he thinks like this, spacing off a little bit while he eats lunch discreetly in his cabin, wondering what exactly happened in the morning because everything is kind of hazy and all he remembers is the warmth of will solace’s neck and the comfortable embrace that felt like the weight had been dusted off his shoulders
  • nico wonders what got into him, why he leaned in and why he didn’t jerk away in the first place. he thinks, locked inside his room, why he even goes to the infirmary every day even when will doesn’t ask or why he’s spending all his free time with him
  • nico also wonders about why will asked him to join him in the infirmary in the first place. he remembers the shock he felt when he heard the words “friendly face”. they hadn’t been that close or anything, mere acquaintances in battle.
  • but what about now? in his train of thoughts, nico gets lost in the thought of will solace. he starts picturing different images in his head from different memories, all with his golden blonde hair that curls adoringly at his ears, and the very light freckles that dust his cheek, the dimples that forms when he smiles and the eyes that look like a crystallized ocean. he thinks about will solace’s voice and how he speaks and his calm gestures or his annoyingly stubborn ones.
  • then it hits him like a truck. an answer as to why he thinks so much, to why he spends all this time with him and why he didn’t hesitate when will had hugged him that morning. the thought about how he maybe likes the son of apollo, no, definitely is gone for the son of apollo sends a shiver down his spine.
  • nico stops eating and just stares off into space, he can swear his heart isn’t beating and his mind can’t think but then everything catches up with him fast and he makes the dreaded acknowledgement in his head that he likes will solace
  • we all remember what happened the last time nico liked a boy, and nico knows that more than anyone else, so instead of calming down and remembering what a kind person will is, he just shuts the door to the hades cabin tighter and tucks himself tightly in bed, hoping the sleep will make this pit in his stomach go away
  • but it doesnt, and he lays, staring at the ceiling, wondering when the hell all of this happened. meanwhile, will solace has taken the obvious notice that nico didn’t attend lunch as the hades table is empty, and at first he shrugs it off but it comes back at him like a persistent bug that he just can’t swat away
  • so he focuses on other things like volunteering to be on healing duty for all the campers who’ll stupidly get themselves injured via capture the flag, and then when he’s done with that he’ll try to relearn archery and fail miserably, and then eventually he'llr retreat to the infirmary and wrap and unwrap a bandage on his hand until he realizes that’s something he does when he’s nervous and he’s obviously not nervous
  • it’s not nico’s absence that’s bothering him, it’s more so him wondering if even a hug was too much. they’d never really ‘touched’ like that before, and he starts to wonder if nico was stiff and tense the whole time and he’d just imagined the light blush on his cheeks
  • but that day passes, and then another day passes, and another day, until it’s been a week and the most nico and will have talked has been an awkward small talk before nico’s retreated back into his cabin or volunteered to go on some dumb mission
  • obviously, by now will solace has the worst feeling. he knows it’s because of him, but he does’t know why exactly and it’s pissing him off. he doesn’t want to be distant from nico, and he doesn’t want their only conversation in a week to be “small talk”, like they don’t know each other enough
  • will is obviously incredibly stubborn and he refuses to believe that nico has been avoiding him for a week now because he could’t handle a small embrace, and he shoves the thoughts that nico might hate him for whatever reason aside to take business into his own hands
  • so he trudges around the camp angrily, looking for nico in every corner of the camp. he yelled at the hades cabin door for a good thirty minutes before he realized nobody was there and the nervousness in his stomach turns into dread
  • will solace asks around for nico, to everyone he can until he’s told by some new camper that they saw him leave camp early in the morning and will solace is just filled to the brink with confusion as to what this kid is doing outside of camp all day
  • nico doesn’t return the next day and chiron doesn’t say much besides the fact that nico’s just taking some time off camp and handling a couple of minor errands, which is frankly driving will solace insane because he knows that’s the dumbest excuse
  • he doesn’t know what to do during the empty days anymore, he’s all fidgety and nervous and something inside him almost wants to cry just because he misses not having anyone to glare at and bicker with and laugh until he can’t breathe with
  • more specifically, he misses nico, so he sits around whispering that thought constantly until it doesn’t sound like words anymore and convinces himself he didn’t do anything wrong. and as he’s sitting in the infirmary,distracting himself with various types of bandages, he remembers how good nico is in the infirmary and how he’s great with kids
  • he also remembers how brown and beautiful nico’s eyes are, with these little specks of gold around the black. he remembers how pitch black nico’s hair is, how his eyes can barely adjust to it’s darkness and how fluffy it can be. will also remembers he way his skin’s been getting that same olive tint again and how nico di angelo’s laugh is the sweetest thing he’s ever heard
  • but will solace’s realization for his feelings for nico doesn’t hit him like a truck. it doesn’t come at full impact and it doesn’t make him terrified. it comes softly and slowly, like honey, before it sets in his stomach in the form of butterflies and he catches himself smiling to himself, aware of the fact that he’s blushing and that he looks devastatingly fond right now
  • after a few days, nico finally returns looking pretty normal on the outside, carrying a satchel of whatever that he gives to chiron, and then tries to blend into the shadows and go back to his cabin
  • will solace can’t hold back the anger fueling in his chest anymore, and he’s so excited at the sight of nico that he immediately calls out his name just as nico is about to get inside, remembering nico’s familiar figure and a cloud of memories flood back into his head. looking at him after he knows how he feels for him is different, it’s nicer and everything else seems gloomy and grey besides nico
  • who is, i may add, looking a little bit scared as he clutches the door of the hades cabin. nico doesn’t know what to think at the moment, because in the time he was away he was in the underworld, moping around and thinking about everything.
  • nico’s aware that falling for will could mean hurt, and he doesn’t want that again after percy, so he’s made up his mind to avoid will until the feelings fade.
  • but right now, when he’s looking at will solace standing in the middle of growing grass in the low twilight evening,with the golden glisten of his hair and the light blue glow of his eyes, his stance is shaken, which only terrifies him more
  • but then will solace smiles, warmly and gently because he doesn’t wan’t to fight or pour out anger when he sees nico’s small figure with the prettiness in his eyes and the slight squint in his eyes and the parting of his lips that will’s eyes can’t help but flicker to
  • will finally approaches and isn’t even on the second step before nico turns to face him completely, breathing in and staring straight in his eyes. he’s rehearsed this a thousand times, but now that will is facing him, he can’t seem to pour out any words
  • so instead, he settles for glaring and frowning and the peaceful atmosphere is broken. he half hates himself and half is relieved that will might go away. but then will solace frowns and his stance is firm.
  • will asks him quietly where he’s been. nico looking away and huffs out a sigh, trying to distract himself with the trees or the sky or anything but will’s burning gaze on him. in the end, he has no choice but to look back at will and state quite idiotically that he went to the underworld for some errands
  • will isn’t having it, so he asks why nico actually went to the underworld, and nico’s starting to get annoyed. he can feel the tension burning between them like a fire and it isn’t long before they start actually arguing, with actual annoyance and actual anger
  • “you were avoiding me for a week before you left for the underworld, nico.” will says, his voice is rising only slightly more now and nico scowls and tries to leave but will puts a hand on his shoulder which feels like its burning 
  • “don’t touch me!” it comes out quick and fast and heavy and will can’t help the anger building in him, so he releases it by shouting a loud of what the hell, nico? before nico just screams at will to leave him alone and he dashes through the door, slamming it behind him
  • will doesn’t know if he feels heartbroken or angry or both. he just stays there, still hearing nico’s words like an echo in his head. they feel heavy, and scared and suddenly will feels like he understands just a little bit as to why
  • nico, on the other hand, sits on his bed and he can fear tears come to his eyes because all of this is so terrifying. all he wants to do is to bicker and banter with will and get lost in all his beauty without knowing that he likes this kid desperately.
  • and now he hates himself a little too, a feeling that is almost surprisingly foreign because he swore to himself he’d never let this happen again, and now it happened again, completely without nico wanting it
  • but then he thinks about will solace, and he remembers how just the sight of him makes his heart leap and how sweet and nice will has been with him for the past few months despite his obviously annoying and stubborn side. he just wants to feel the warmth and the embrace again and he is almost positive that will solace obviously doesn’t like him back.
  • at the same time, he doesn’t want this. he doesn’t want to start what will be a tense proximity between the two and he doesn’t want will to think of him badly. he wants to fight and argue and laugh with will, and because he knows that’s what he wants, in an impulsive action he finds himself walking out to the door.
  • nico is utterly confused and even more scared as his hands grip around the doorknob because he doesn’t know what he’s doing. he’s not going to confess, maybe never going to confess, but he doesn’t want to fight with will and he’s willing to compress his feelings for this one chance
  • and with that thought, he turns the doorknob and leaves the cabin to see will sitting on the steps, leaning onto the side of the railings. will notices his presence, but continues staring into the grass, wondering if he should acknowledge nico or not
  • nico likes it better silent like this, so he hesitantly walks over and hovers over the steps, wondering if he should walk back inside because the fear part of him is telling him to. except, he does’t know why he’s afraid so he tells the fear part of him to shut up and he walks down the one step before he’s sitting on the same one will will, a feet or so apart
  • will solace’s heart is pounding for some strange reason and it mirrors nico’s because nico just can’t keep his chest still or his hands from shaking, even more when will turns his head a little bit to look at nico, who is resting his chins on his arms that are placed guardedly on his knees
  • will solace only gazes, and nico risks a glance back before he properly stares at will, wondering what he’s thinking about. the blush in his cheeks rises and his heart is hammering because will is looking at him in a way he’s never seen before
  • will’s eyes are soft with the slightest hint of squint, his eyebrows are rested and his lips are a small bit pursed. his tan skin is a little blushed as well, and nico forgets abot time when he momentarily gets lost in will’s eyes
  • of course, that is before will slowly moves his head which makes nico blink. will leans achingly slow into nico, who is half shrinking back and half trying to keep his composure still. nico doesn’t know what will’s thinking, but his breath hitches when will only rests their heads together
  • for a moment, they stay like that, wills eyes closed. nico likes the warmth between them, and his chest is pounding and he’s unsure of what’s going on but he lets it happen. after a good few seconds, will moves his head to brush his cheek against nico’s so softly and it’s the most comforting thing nico has ever felt
  • “it’s okay”. it comes out as a whisper, but it feels like the only sound in the damp and peaceful evening. nico doesn’t know exactly what will’s talking about, but he understands strangely and almost feels his eyes water at the thought of this being okay
  • will pulls back just slightly and nico thinks he dreamed it as will’s eyes open. nico keeps his eyes closed, half the time staring at the ground and the other half flickering them closed. 
  • will is waiting for something like a hesitation, but nico keeps quiet, completely confused as to whats going to happen next. seeing as there’s not hesitance, will tilts his head just a little bit before he leans and and take nico’s lips in his
  • everything stops. nico can’t feel his heartbeat, nor the sounds around him, or even his senses, just like the time in his cabin when he made that dreadful realization. except now when everything catches up to him, it feels like a wave of fireworks in his stomach and he can barely breathe but he doesn’t want to
  • will, on the other hand, feels the innocent sensation of nico’s warm lips against his own and instantly wants more. he feels all the feelings rush into his chest until aches in the sweetest way. he reaches up and cups nico’s face in his hands, pulling him closer.
  • the feeling of will’s hands on his face makes a shiver go down his spine before nico finds himself trailing his hands along will’s waist, not wanting this moment to end. will kisses him again, and then again and again, heart swelling every time nico gasps just a little bit in innocent surprise
  • it isn’t long before they’ve completely lost coordination, when it isn’t even kissing anymore and it’s just a mess of mouths and fumbling hands and swollen, tugging lips with months worth of trapped feelings pouring out all at once
  • will pulls away and kisses nico one last time, and it’s innocent and chaste and gentle. he knows, in his heart he knows the fear that nico has within him and he remembers the anxiousness in nico’s eyes, so he lets the kiss be lingering and sweet, a few words of comfort in the press of lips
  • and then will pulls away and sets his forehead on nico’s, both of them catching their breath quietly and feel the heat in their cheeks rising. nico can’t stop himself from smiling, and will notices this which makes laughter bubble in his chest and he giggles and then nico does too and by then, it’s a mess of laughing, blushing boys.
  • in a moment, they’ll maybe talk about this and everything if they can get over their shyness and their laughter, but right now, they enjoy each other’s ringing giggles and the sight of their blushing faces in the evening hue
Nathan Prescott x Fem!Reader ~ Colors

Originally posted by chronosphere-child

The smoke lingers in the air only for a short moment before the wind blows the grey cloud away. Absently you wipe away the ash, which is falling on your knee from the cigarette that dangles dangerously between your lips.

A loud noise brings you back into the reality. One of the new kids probably lost a bet and had to activate the fire alarm. It happens quite often.  

The burning end of your cigarette lights once more as you inhale the smoke. You are not even thinking about leaving your favorite spot. The stairs in front of the back door of the school is a lonely place. Not even Samuel comes back here very often. It’s your time to be alone for a bit… until yet.

The door gets pushed open roughly. You are not fast enough to make space for the hurried visitor. The person bumps into you. “Hey!”, you exclaim extremely pissed, but your next words get stuck in your throat.  

Just a few inches away lies a gun on the stairs. A real weapon on the campus. Without a word the boy picks up the gun to shove it back into the safety of his red jacket. Clear blue eyes meet your [E/C] ones. You notice no color in them. Not a sign that these orbs are actually alive. Not a single feeling in them except for pure panic. Just dead blue eyes.

Neither of you says a word, but both of you know you saw the gun. “Want to take a puff?”, you break the ice cold silence, while you hold out your cigarette for the boy to grab. Nathan clenches his hands even tighter into fists. His knuckles are completely white by now.

“Cat got your tongue? … Or is the infamous Nathan Prescott afraid of smoking?”, a slight smirk appears on your lips matching to your mocking tone. “I don’t even know you!”, his mind is still racing, which results in being unable to form more than a single stupid sentence.

Your challenging pose triggers his arrogance. Nathan takes the cigarette with his free hand. Like you a few moments ago he releases a cold grey cloud. The two of you stare at each other through the smoky air, which makes the situation a bit mysterious. You are still waiting for a warning or his usual “I will sue you”-line, but after his first puff he seems more relaxed.

At least that’s what his dead blue eyes tell you. “That’s not a cigarette”, Nathan states after another moment. You give him a slight shrug, “I never said it’s one.” He doesn’t make attempts to give you back your Mary Jane.  

“You know you are chilled more fun, Prescott”, you are ready to continue with your probably shitty day. Nate grabs your arm to stop you from walking away, “If you say a word about what you saw I …” Bored you roll your eyes and interrupt him, “You’ll sue me and my family. Get yourself a few new lines, Prescott.” Matching to your sarcasm you take back your “cigarette”. It finds its old spot between your lips as you make your way back to your dorm.  

Of course you can feel his blue eyes on you. It’s probably the first time someone spoke back to him like you just did. To be honest you never saw such lifeless eyes. Somehow you want to fill them with colors and emotions. Even if you are not sure Nathan makes it to the day he gets twenty years old with this dangerous lifestyle of his. Such a shame for those beautiful but dead blue eyes…

Nathan grabs the strap of his camera tighter. Since three people saw him with a gun his mind is racing nonstop. He almost feels the pressure on his shoulders. It’s like a weight that drags him down into the darkness.

Suddenly Nathan stops mid-step as something or better said someone catches his full attention. You are lying on the grass with your own camera in your hands. The light shines on your [H/C] hair in a certain way that lures him in. Nate never payed attention to colors and light in pictures, but right now he feels inspired. There is a need to freeze time with help of a photo. Not his usual black white ones. A picture that lives because of the colors.

Without noticing Nathan comes closer until you notice his presence. “Prescott”, you greet him still focused on your camera. “[L/N]”, he responses in the same tone. Not even a bit surprised you raise your head to see what he wants. The sunlight blinds you for a second so you shield your eyes with your hands to get a better look at him.

It might be the light but he seems more alive for a second. “You did your research. Good but not necessary. I didn’t say a word to anyone about your… toy”, you get back to your work taking more pictures. For a brief moment anger washes over Nathan. Why does his reputation keep haunting him? He is way more than this … at least he was once more than his reputation, but that’s a long time ago.

Insecure Nate wipes his sweaty hands on his jeans. His head doesn’t work the way it used to do. Not a single word comes over his lips. “You are still here, Prescott…”, you comment his stand by modus amused. Only one glimpse at his face tells you to keep your sarcasm low.

Nathan, who rules the whole Blackwell Academy and half of Arcadia Bay, stands in front of you like a lost puppy. And that’s pretty close to how he feels.  

“Make yourself comfortable. Take a puff. You know, chilled more fun”, you give him your Mary Jane, while you release a last grey cloud of smoke. Uncertain about his decision Nate sits down an arm length away from you. “I don’t bite, Prescott”, he places his camera between you and him to reduce the distance. It’s just a little move and still he feels a bit closer to you.

Neither of you disturbs the beautiful silence with lame small talk. The sounds of the nature mixed with the clicks of your camera is exactly what he needs right now. Nothing bothers him. Not even a single bad thought tortures him. His reputation stays away. His family stays away. Everything is perfect even if it’s just a beautiful illusion for a few moments.

Like you two have done this before you hold out your hand towards him and Nate gives you back the Mary Jane. Out of the corner of his eyes he watches your movements closely. The cigarette dangles between your lips. The smoke that dances around your face in a perfect way. There is nothing you do differently and still your grey cloud of smoke seems more alive than his whole body.

“So, Marijuana”, Nate states before he could hold himself back. “Yup, keeps my sick mind sane. Sometimes I feel like an overflowing sink, but with drugs I’m just a colorful sunrise”, you explain as you lay aside your camera. It’s an unusual explanation, but Nate understands every word you say. Your Marijuana reminds him of his blue pills he takes sometimes to turn off his mind.

Adrenaline rushes through his veins by now. All the time he wished for someone who understands what he is going through. A person who looks behind his reputation and his bad poker face. Excited Nathan points at your camera, “I saw a few of your pictures. They are not bad.” And as soon as his self-esteem got pushed it’s beaten down again.

You literally can see how Nathan realizes what he said a second ago. There is this pure panic in his eyes again. At least you know what he tried to say, “Well, thank you. Yours are not bad either… Just a bit colorless. Don’t get me wrong. I love black and white pictures, but the world is already grey enough. The most people can’t see the colors around them anymore.”  

Nathan’s relieved next words get stuck in his throat as snow starts to fall. “Oh my god! Is that really happening?”, you hold out your hand to catch one of the snowflakes. It’s still pretty warm so why is it snowing? “Let’s take a selfie together to prove what we just saw!”, you exclaim excited like a child, while you grab your camera.  

You press your shoulder against his to get both of you onto one picture. Nathan isn’t even near to being ready for a selfie. Your energy and spontaneous way overwhelms him a bit … but in a good way. The picture shows you smiling and Nate being confused.  

“Wow, handsome”, you tease him smirking, which makes him blush for a brief moment. “You know; you are not even close to the things people say about you. The most people just don’t you know yet. Hell, you are quite nice … for a Prescott”, you say honestly as you take more pictures of the snowfall.

Nathan’s heart skips a beat just to continue to beat as twice as fast than before. He always was a book with a big unbreakable lock, but you are tearing through his pages and his ink without trouble and fear of what you might find between the lines. You don’t care about the things he has done or the status of his family. A day ago you saw him with an effing gun and still say he’s quite nice. How is that even possible?

Nate opens his mouth to reply also something hopefully nice as someone calls his name. Victoria waves her arm to tell him they have places to be. And the sad reality caught him again in its darkness. A quiet sigh comes over his lips, while he turns his head to face you once more.  

In the meantime, you got your bag and make your way towards the girl dorms. Against your sake you throw a last glance over your shoulder just to find Nathan already looking at you. The lifeless cloud lures him in so you give him your best smile.  

“Stay strong, Prescott.” It won’t be easy to bring him back on track, but he is worth the try…

“You are hanging out with [Y/N]?”, Victoria states the obvious surprised. “Yeah, got a problem with that?”, Nathan replies not as rough as he wished for. “Actually yes”, another voice behind them joins the conversation without their permission.  

David Madson crosses his arms as the two students turn around to face the security guard. “I don’t care about your opinion”, Nate is still high on the colors you spread in your near. Everything inside of him screams for inner peace and silence.  

“Oh, you will, boy. You are not going to lay a single finger on [Y/N]. She is a lovely girl with the power to do great things in her future, while your presence is just like poison. Killing everything nice in a person. You are toxic and not good for her”, David states fuming. You remind him of Chloe and he will do everything it costs to keep you safe from people like Nathan.

Victoria looks at said boy waiting for him to defend himself. There is nothing. It scares Nate how true David’s words are. He only is going to dull your sparkle and wash away your colors. “You are crazy, old man. Let’s go, Nate”, Victoria just drags him with her towards the halls of Blackwell. “I will keep an eye on you, Prescott”, David yells after them.

His words keep playing in Nathan’s head over and over again. They ignite his doubts and those bad thoughts to torture him again. “What’s wrong with you? Are you scared of this wannabe security guard? Your father will sue him and his whole family until there is nothing left of them!”  

Nathan doesn’t even listen to Victoria anymore. He needs to stay away from you, but how will he manage that?

Matching to the grey sky a few raindrops fall to the ground. The whole scenery is just as depressing as the fact that Kate tries to take her life. “No! Kate!”, you exclaim on the brink of tears. Your heart clenches painfully at the sight of your long-term friend.

She stands on the edge of the rooftop of the Prescott Dormitory. Her arms stretched out ready to jump into the emptiness. Fear paralyzes you completely. Not a single fiber of your body moves to safe Kate from her destiny.  

“Do a backflip!”, one of the students yell through the thick tension you can almost grab with your hands. It snaps you out of your helplessness. Tears run down your cheeks as you hit Victoria’s cellphone out of her hand. The anger wells in you like a volcano. “Are you fucking delirious? That’s a brand new…”, she starts to rant about your action.

“Are you even human?! There is a girl wanting to taker her life because of all of you!”, no one can feel the pain in your chest. Neither the fear to lose someone you are really close to. It tears Nathan apart to see you like this.

A crying mess and still perfect in every way fighting for the things you believe in. Victoria keeps arguing about her phone, while your eyes are glued to the rooftop. There is still hope for a miracle. No one got your back. No one keeps you company as you go through hell right now.

Nathan gives himself a mentally push to stand by your side. That’s his fault. All of this chaos came alive through his hands. Kate attempting a suicide. You crying your eyes out. David was right all along. His presence is like poison. His touch is toxic. It kills everything around him. He is no good. Especially for you…

Nathan takes your hand softly in his to let you know you are not alone. Everyone can see what he just did, but he doesn’t care anymore. Even Victoria stops her hate parade. You give his surprisingly warm hand a slight squeeze. It’s more than a lame “I appreciate that”. You don’t want to admit it, but you need him right here, right now.

Little do you know he needs you as much as you need him. You keep the bad thoughts and his doubts away. Nathan really tried to avoid you, but something keeps pulling him towards you over and over again. He’s like a moth drawn to the flame. You two smoked now and then together the last few days. It’s not really hanging out together, but he wished it would be more than that.

You snap Nate out of his thoughts as you let go of his hand. Relieved but still crying you bury your face in his shirt. Max talked Kate out of taking her life. It doesn’t matter it wasn’t you, her best and probably only friend. Kate’s alive … for now.

Nathan wraps you up tightly in his arms. “It’s okay. It’s over”, he isn’t the best at comforting, but at least he tries. And suddenly Nate is the colorful one of you two. The optimist hanging onto life. “Prescott! Into my office”, Principle Wells disturbs your little moment. Nathan’s blue eyes meet your concerned [E/C] ones.  

“You are in trouble, right?”, you can see it clearly in them. His doubts, his panic, his bad conscious. He releases you to follow Well’s order, “I’m never in trouble.” Oh, he is. And now you are pulled apart at the seams. Do you want your old life, which is Kate coming down from the roof, or your new life, which is Nathan who transformed from the villain to your shining knight in armor.

Your heart is torn so badly. Kate said all along he isn’t good for you. But what are you supposed to do?!

Sighing you inhale the smoke like your life depends on it and somehow it does right now. You let fill up your lungs with the grey cloud, while your mind gets knocked out by the drug. You are not allowed to smoke in the dorms, but who cares?  

A light knock catches you off guard. For a second you hope it’s Kate even if a part of you know it can’t be your friend. She is in a hospital hopefully getting better so she can leave soon. As you make your way towards the door you give the still white canvas a kick. Of course your creativity and inspiration leave you on your own when you need them most to distract your sick mind. That’s it. Your own personal chaos.  

“Prescott”, you exclaim surprised. “Hey… uh… I just wanted to check on you”, he gives you a slight smile you have never seen before on him. You can tell it’s honest. Nathan cares about you probably more he wants to admit.  

“Okay, I guess. Thanks for asking”, you step aside so he can come in. Nate accepts your offer and looks around taking in every little detail that tells him more about you. “Are you in trouble?”, you won’t beat around the bushes anymore. You want answers. Now. Nathan shrugs as he steps over the canvas that still lies untouched on the floor. “Tell me the truth”, you grab his hand to get his full attention, “I can see it in your eyes.”

Nathan escapes your grip roughly, “Do not analyze me! … Please.” He starts yelling, but ends up whispering the last word in a plead. An ice cold silence appears for a few moments. You pushed him to the limit what the people around him always do. It shows you how close to the edge he is.

“Is Kate … alright?”, he tries desperately to keep going the conversation. Nathan wants to make sure he didn’t destroy everything between you two. “Uh… I don’t know. She didn’t want to see me, but she is alive. That matters, right?”, you can’t fool him with your faked smile. Nathan already can tell the difference between them. Both of you know Kate rejected you because of him.  

The pure sadness in your eyes kills him inside. That’s more torturing than his doubts screaming at him in his head in this moment.  

You are no good for her. You are poison. You kill everything around you. Your touch is toxic. You will drag her with you into the darkness. You know that…

Nathan wraps you up in his arms as a single tear escapes your eye. You cling onto him for your dear life. To hold you in his arms feels so wrong and right at the same time. These unknown feelings you trigger in his chest are addictive. He doesn’t want to live without them anymore and still…

You lied. You lied all of your life and you dragging an innocent person with you. You will go down with your mask of lies. First suspended, then jail and death will be your last station. You can’t hide this side of yours forever. [Y/N] will find it and leave you because you are truly a monster.

“Nathan?”, you snap him out of his pretty dark thoughts again. The way your [E/C] eyes look into his soul makes him feel vulnerable. It’s almost like you can see into his soul. To your surprise he leans forwards to press a soft kiss on your forehead. “I’m sorry”, Nate means every word. “There is no need to apologize”, you reply slightly smiling. Oh, there is. You just don’t know it yet.

Nathan presses his lips into a thin line as you turn around to get your cigarette from the ashtray. It’s for sure he can’t go on like this forever. One day he is going to explode and spill every single secret he keeps. But for now he just wants to enjoy the time you two have left.

“I haven’t eaten in a while. Want to go the Two Wales Diner?”, you suggest wanting to get out of the dormitory for a bit. Your room seems like a prison cell showing every single memory you want to forget right now. “Yes… Uh… Here”, Nate puts his red jacket over your shoulders. You mumble a shy “Thank you” as he takes your hand in his like it always belonged there.

A few of the students stop for a second and stare at you two walking through the hallways holding hands. Nathan isn’t really the person of showing his feelings openly, but with you it’s different. He wants you to be part of his life and he wants everyone to know that. Your presence by his side pushes his self-esteem so extremely. Nate never felt that perfectly fine before without taking his meds.  

“What a beautiful sight! Mrs. [L/N] and Mr. Prescott together”, both of you stop immediately. Of course you recognize the voice of your teacher Mr. Jefferson. Nathan’s whole body stiffens and he gives your hand almost a painfully squeeze.  

“I need to speak with you, Mr. Prescott. Your last work was … not what I expected of you”, Jefferson doesn’t wait for an answer and walks a few steps away. There is an unspoken order Nathan should follow him. “Go to your dorm and stay in there”, he avoids to look into your eyes. You would see sheer panic in them. You don’t question his plead because of his shaking voice. Something is up and he doesn’t want to involve you.

Without looking back over his shoulder Nathan catches up to Mr. Jefferson. His happiness turned into a cold fist of panic clenching his heart together in its iron grip. “So, [Y/N]. I never thought of her to be our next guest in the Dark Room”, Mark takes his glasses of to clean them.  

“No! Please!”, Nate exclaims a bit too loud for Jefferson’s taste. The boy can feel how he traps himself in the net of his teacher. “Oh, you like her. That’s surprising me now”, Mark enjoys the fear in his widened blue eyes. Another mistake on Nathan’s list. “The Vortex Club plans a party. I want to see both of you there. You know the routine”, Jefferson orders without a trace of mercy and usually he gets what he want.  

“Have a good day, Nathan”, Mr. Jefferson leaves pleased with the outcome of this conversation. Nate feels how his mind completely shuts down as he realizes what he has done to you. He made the only person that genuinely cares for him to Mark’s prey. You are in serious danger.

That’s your fault. You are no good for her.

Tears start to pool in his eyes as he runs his fingers through his hair. No matter how he hard he thinks there is only one way to keep you safe. It’s going to rip him apart. It will turn his heart to stone, but it needs to be done.

“I’m sorry”, a single tear runs over his cheek.

It costs all your courage to raise your shaking arm. The light knock on the door keeps repeating in your head. There is an uneasy feeling in your stomach. Panic? Maybe. You haven’t heard from Nathan for hours since he sent you back to your dorm. And by now your heart tries to break through your ribcage to be free for the first time.

After an eternity Nate opens the door finally to reveal the mess he has become. His room is completely dark. All the blinds are closed, while the air is smoky. “[Y/N] …”, there is so much desire in his tired voice, but his once more dead blue eyes say something different. His mind is made up, but his body declines his decision. Now he wages a fight behind his mask.

“Is… everything okay? I was waiting for you and … I’m concerned. No, that’s not true. I’m scared”, you stumble over your own words. Nathan almost takes a step forward to wrap you up in his arms, but only releases a loud sigh.  

“Okay, there is something I need to tell you. I was only playing with you. Hayden and me had a bet running. I couldn’t know you would fall for me and clinging on me like your life depends on it. I have a reputation to keep so could you just stay away from me? It’s like one of your stupid colorful pictures. I was red. You are blue. Together we are purple. And know what? I hate fucking purple”, every word he says rips your heart slowly apart. Piece by piece.  

Against your sake tears escape your eyes. You don’t want to cry in front of him like a lovesick fool, but your body betrays you. “Nathan”, between the rushed breaths you manage to say his name hoping to change his mind. “Don’t make a scene now, [L/N]”, you can’t see how he clenches his hands into fists. Oh, how lovely it would be to punch himself right now.

“Nathan”, you try your luck again not knowing how close you are to tearing through his walls. “Leave. It’s better for you”, with that Nate closes the door. The wood isn’t thick enough so he can hear you crying for a few moments. That’s probably the most heartbreaking sound he has ever heard.  

Nathan rests his forehead against the cold door. Why can’t he do one single thing in his life right? With you he had everything and now he is on his own again. His only partner by his side is his bad conscious. He hurt himself with hurting you so badly.

“Nathan? You forgot your jacket on the ground”, Hayden knocks for a moment, but gives up easily as Nate doesn’t answer. You left it behind like he did it with you. He doesn’t want to get his jacket back, which has your scent on it probably. Suddenly all his walls break and Nathan curls up in a ball on the floor to cry his eyes out.  

Behind the blinds occurs the eclipse telling about the danger that comes towards Arcadia Bay.

“I’m so ready for the End of the World Party tonight. I can’t even decide what I should wear”, Victoria exclaims excited as she texts someone else at the same time. Nathan only nods his head hoping it would be enough answer for her. It’s no secret how heartbroken he is. The last few days he just hid himself in his room.

He is tired of keeping up his mask of lies. The sadness he bears in his heart drags him down. Even farther he ever was before. “Come on, Nate. You are no fun at all”, Vic notices his lack of attention. He wants to reply something as his mind shuts completely down.

There you are chasing down a blue butterfly with your camera in your hands. A slight smile appears on his lips taking in every move you make. He notices that you are not as colorful as usual. A cloud of sadness floats around you. It’s clearly to see you are heartbroken too.

“Can you believe it? [Y/N] almost begged that she can come to the Vortex party without being a member. So pathetic”, Victoria rolls her eyes confidently. Nathan’s smile fades away immediately, “What?! When?!” He grabs Vic’s arm desperate for the information.

“Chill down, Nate. She asked me yesterday, but I said no. Who does [Y/N] think she is?”, she replies escaping his iron grip. “But you are in, right?” The world around him starts to spin. His mind races and is blank at the same time. You are still in danger even if he stays away from you. Jefferson took a liking in you. He will do everything it takes to get what he wants.

“[Y/N] is not allowed on this party, okay? Tell everyone so she really has no chance to come. I don’t want to see her there”, panic rushes through his veins. Finally, Victoria lays her phone aside to look at him, “I know you two had something for a very short time – just to mention, but isn’t that a bit too dramatic? … Oh man, she really broke your heart.”

Nathan gets up from his spot on one of the picnic tables to pace around like a wild animal. “No, I fucked up this time. It’s my fault.” Vic furrows her eyebrows confused. He never admitted one of his mistakes so why now?  

“You are acting really weird, Nathan”, she says, but doesn’t get a reaction from him. “I need to sort a few things out. I’m back for the party”, Nathan runs towards his car without a goodbye. Victoria crosses her arms fuming he cares more about you than for her. She is still his best friend after the two went through together.  

“Hey, [L/N]! Still want to go to the Vortex party?”

“God, I’m so sorry”, Nathan whispers to himself, while running his fingers through his hair nonstop. He tried everything he can think of to keep Jefferson away from you. He begged, offered money from his parents, threaten to go to the police. Nothing worked.  

“Everybody hates me. Everybody … even [Y/N]”, he made a lot of mistakes but pushing you away was the worst of them. Somehow Nate always managed to keep his broken world up, but now it’s crashing into thousand tiny pieces, which are burying him underneath them.  

You are worthless. Are you finally accepting it? Took you long enough, Prescott.  

“Shut up! Shut up! … I know, don’t rub salt in my wounds. My life is hell”, Nathan tries to block out the voices in his head, but they keep screaming at him. This will never end. He is a prisoner of his own mind. The other guests of the Diner don’t even pay attention to the broken boy. Exactly like his whole life was.  

“She is better off without me”, is he trying to convince himself or the voices in his head? Nate closes his eyes wishing himself far away from his problems. “Nathan! You are out of your mind again!”, Victoria snaps him out of his thoughts as she sits down on the other side of the table. “The party is in half an hour. You have to be fit for that!”  

For a second he stares at her with his blue eyes, “For getting high I don’t need to be fit. Could you leave me alone?” He buries his face in his hands. “But the Vortex Club got a special guest! You don’t want to have a tripping mind in front of [Y/N]?”

Nathan lowers his hands in slow motion to look at Victoria, “What did you just say?” Maybe his mind plays a prank on him. Maybe all of this is just a super twisted dream. “You are going to clear things out with [Y/N]. Maybe after one or two drinks”, Vic explains her plan to bring you two back together. It’s not her intention to see Nate or you happy.  

“No! She is not coming! I told you!”, anger washes over him as he slams his fist on the table. Victoria isn’t frightened of him anymore when he does this. “Calm down. She probably is not going to show up anyway. That little brat had a nice conversation with Mr. Jefferson. He is worried about her and then they took a walk together”, Nate can see the jealousy in Vic’s eyes. Little does she know what monster Jefferson is. A monster on its hunt.

Without a further word Nathan runs out of the Diner directly towards his car. He plants himself behind the steering wheel as he searches through his pockets for his phone. Just in case he got your number if something like this happens.

A mixture of panic, adrenaline and energy rushes through his veins. It keeps his hands from shaking too much. “[Y/N] here. I can’t answer right now. Leave a message or try it again later. Thanks!” Mumbling a ton of curse words Nate throws his phone on the passengers seat.  

The car’s engine comes a live with a roar. Not caring about the traffic rules Nathan drives like a maniac back to the Blackwell Academy. A lot of students make their way towards the swimming hall where the party is located. He snaps his phone in case you call back before he gets out of his car to look for you. “Nate! The party started already!”, Taylor informs him smiling.  

What if Jefferson got her already?!

Nathan pushes himself to run as fast as possible to the hall. His heart stops for a second. How is he supposed to find you in the chaos of the party?! It’s too full of people and too dark to recognize a single familiar face in a rushed manner.

Nate boxes his way through the crowd as someone puts his hand on his shoulder. “Nathan! Good you are here!”, Hayden yells over the loud music. “Have you seen [Y/N]?!”, his panic grows every second he doesn’t know if you are safe. The already high boy shakes his head.  

On the limit he runs his fingers through his hair. Maybe someone else saw you. But the most people are way too wasted to recognize even their own parents. Suddenly a light beam shows Jefferson in the crowd of celebrating teenagers.  

Nathan knows he’s after him since he declined to drug you for the Dark Room. But as long he is on the party you are still out of his reach. Now it’s a game on time. Who finds you first?

Nate turns back to run to the Prescott Dormitory. You might be there safe in your room, where Jefferson never can’t get you. He’s angry at himself for putting you in such great danger. Breathless he sprints over the campus. Nathan pushes open the doors to the dormitory just to see Max, Chloe and Warren coming directly towards him.

There is not time to deal with them. With his head down Nate tries to get past them. Since he beat Warren up on the parking lot, the boy craves his revenge. “Care to explain, Nathan?”, Max holds out something. “I got no time for that yet”, he replies already caring on with his plan, “Wait! Where you in my room?!”

Before Nathan can take a step closer, Warren headbutts him roughly. Nate tries to grab his gun to scare them way. Unfortunately, Warren is faster than him and kicks the gun out of his hand. “You like hurting people, huh? Like Max! Like Kate! Like me! Like [Y/N]!”, Warren kicks and beats Nathan nonstop.  

“Stop! Please!”, he doesn’t beg for him. Nate thinks he deserves the pain for all the mistakes he has done, but your time is running out. Your life on the edge of danger and it lies in his hands to safe you from Jefferson.  

“No!”, the voice sounds familiar, but through the curtain of pain he can’t connect it to a face. The beating stops finally. A hand strokes his bruised cheek softly as he opens his eyes slowly. “Nathan”, you wipe the blood from his nose away with the sleeve of your shirt, “Oh my god! Are you alright?”

A single tear drops from your eye on his cheek, while he takes your hand in his. “Yes, now is everything alright”, relief washes over him that you are safe … for a while at least. “Come on, we are going to take care of your face. That must hurt”, with your help Nathan gets up from the ground. The pain hits him hard, but it’s not priority yet.  

Nate leans against the wall to take in how much you still care for him even after what he did to you. “We have no time for this. There is so much I have to tell you, but first of all… I love you, [Y/N]. I truly love you and I’m so sorry that I hurt you. I will explain you everything  when we get away from here. It’s not safe. I know you probably hate me, but do you trust me?”, his thumb strokes your knuckles softly.  

Without hesitating you wrap him up in your arms, “I never could hate you, Nathan. I love and trust you, but you have to tell me what’s going on.” Before he can say a word, the doors of the Prescott Dormitory gets pushed open once again.  

“We had a plan, Prescott”, Jefferson shakes his head disappointed. Nate takes your hand in his to drag you along the hallway. “Nathan! You know, you can’t run. I will find you!”, Mark yells after you two preparing his syringe. He will hunt both of you down if it’s necessary.

“Keep running no matter what happens!”, of course you are confused, but you trust him without a doubt. You remember the way you two run. It’s the way directly to the back door of Blackwell. He pushes you firstly out of the door, while he throws a glance over his shoulder. No trace of Jefferson yet, but he won’t give up easily.  

Now you drag Nathan with you towards the parking lot, where both of your cars wait. “There is no way out of this!”, Mark appears out of nowhere and is already too close for your taste. You close the door of your old truck right in time. Jefferson hits his fist against the glass of your window as you start the engine with shaking hands.  

And with that you two are out of his reach. Your heart keeps beating hard against your ribcage. You don’t know where you are driving as long as it far away from Mark Jefferson. Breathlessly Nathan puts his hand on yours. In what fucking chaos you just rushed into?

“We can’t go back, right? So where are we going?”, you break the uncomfortable silence, but your eyes are glued to the street. “A motel for now, I guess. Then we will think about our next steps. I … I have to warn Max. She was onto me and Jefferson. She is probably in danger”, Nate takes out his phone.

“Max, it’s Nathan. I just want to say I’m sorry. I didn’t want to hurt Kate or Rachel or … I didn’t want to hurt anybody … Everybody used me! Mr. Jefferson was coming for me. I hope all of this shit is over soon…. Watch out, Max. He wants to hurt you next so hurry… Sorry, I’m so sorry”, Nathan tears up between his confession and still you feel the same for him.

You give his hand a slight squeeze to show him he hasn’t to go through this on his own. The rest of the drive you two sit in silence trying to process this hell of a day. You don’t stop at the first motel in the case Jefferson is still hunting the two of you.  

The rain cools down your racing mind as you get out of your old truck. “Do we have even money to pay for a room?”, Nathan grabs your hand softly. It’s like he needs to make sure you are not going to leave him. “I’ve got a credit card. Don’t worry”, he gets out his wallet, while you two make your way towards the motel.  

“Oh, what brings two young people like you out here?”, the old granny behind the check in wants to know. She doesn’t wear glasses so you guess she can’t see Nate’s beaten up face clearly.  

Nathan puts his credit card on the table, “One room… please.” She furrows her eyebrows due to her unanswered question. “We are on a road trip”, you lie to hide the fact you two are on the run and go from your past.

“Oh, in Arcadia Bay is a terrible storm right now. Good, you are here now”, the granny searches for the key for your room. Nathan and you exchange a quick glance. “Have a good night, sweeties!” You follow Nate closely to fall into his arms after you closed the door behind you. Suddenly your mind realizes what the last few hours happened and what consequences are waiting.

“Okay, I want the truth. I don’t care how terrible it is. I want to hear every detail, Nathan”, you mumble into his shirt close to cry your eyes out. He sits down on the big bed and pats the place next to him. “It’s a long story…”

He tells you the whole story of how this chaos started. He spills all of his secrets. All of his mistakes. All of the trouble he caused. He lines up every flaw of his. He can be honest for the first time in forever.

“I fucked everything up what I can fuck up. I’m a monster. I’m sorry, [Y/N]”, for a monster he apologizes a lot. You run your fingers through his hair, while his tears wet your jeans. Nathan is curled up as a ball on your lap tearing up now and then during his story.  

“Nathan, you are ripped at the edges like a lot of people, but you are still a masterpiece. For me you are perfect and not even close to a monster”, you comfort him. Nate sits up to face you properly with his red and puffy eyes, “But you can’t forgive me, right? I can understand. I also hate myself like the rest of the world does.”

You take his face in your hands softly so you wouldn’t hurt him, “I forgive you, but you have to forgive yourself. Yes, I hate what you have done, but I could never hate you. You would have needed more support.” With your thumb you wipe a single tear from his cheek.

Nathan closes the gap between you two to press his lips on yours. A whole firework of emotions gets triggered in your chest as you start to kiss him back. He leans his forehead against yours after you two break apart. “Why didn’t I find you earlier? Everything could have been different…”

Without a word you pull him with you to lie down on the bed. It was a hell of a day and both of you deserve some sleep. Nate buries his face in the crook of your neck, while his arm is draped over your waist to keep you as close as possible. The fear of losing you will never leave him alone. The white ceiling stares back at you as you draw circles on Nathan’s arm. It takes a long time for him to relax and then to fall asleep finally. It’s over for now. You allow yourself to close your eyes.

Sad Ending

You open your eyes as you release a grey cloud of smoke. Absently you wipe away the ash, which is falling on your knee from the cigarette that dangles dangerously between your lips.  

A loud noise bring you back into the reality. It sounded just like a gun shot, but you are not quite sure. Could also be firecrackers in the bathroom once again. Nathan Prescott is famous for this old and really annoying prank.  

Beautiful silence wraps you up in its calmness, while your thoughts dance around in your head. The Marijuana keeps the bad ones low. Time seems to stop for a while as the sun starts to hide itself behind the trees.  

Suddenly your buzzing phone snaps you out of your daydream. A bit pissed that you got disturbed once again you answer the phone without looking who calls you. “[Y/N], reporting for duty”, is the first thing that comes to your bedazzled mind from the Marijuana. “[Y/N]! Didn’t you hear the sirens?! Come to the front door!”, Kate exclaims without a greeting.

Sighing you make your way to the said spot in front of the Blackwell Academy. The burning end of your cigarette lights once more as you take a deep inhale of smoke. A crowd formed in front of the doors, which surprised you a bit. What did you miss?

“Nathan shot someone in the girls bathroom”, you hear the teenagers whisper around you as you push your way towards Kate. “I knew something like that would happen one day.” - “He’s a bad one.” - “Now his father can’t help him anymore.” - “Poor little rich kid getting what he deserves.”

The mumbling dies down immediately when the doors get pushed open. Two police officer form a path in the crowd for the third officer who escorts a handcuffed Nathan Prescott. On the top of the stairs stands Principle Wells observing the scene with a sad expression on his face.  

Kate takes your hand in hers as she hides her face in your shoulder. She seems relieved that he got arrested. The bullying is going to stop now probably. Softly you rub circles on her back to comfort her and let her know she isn’t alone.  

Nathan’s head hangs low and his shoulders slump forward. It’s like the weight of the entire earth is lying on them. He probably needs also some comfort like Kate, but no one is going to do that. Nate is on his own once again.

He raises his head only for a few seconds. Your [E/C] eyes meet his clear blue but dead ones. There is no trace that these orbs are actually alive. No color. No feelings. Apparently Nate accepted his fate already. He surrendered to the demons around him. Everything inside of him died.

Your orbs are alive and full of color. But that’s not what hypnotizes Nathan. He can see sympathy in them. No disgust, no arrogance, no amusement. Honest and true sympathy for him. Nate could get lost in them, but he will never get a chance.  

In a crowd of people who hate him, he finds you. Way too late.

The officer pushes his forward so he walks a bit faster to the police car. All the people who pointed their fingers at Kate for this terrible video of her, are now doing the same thing with him. You don’t know a lot of his backstory, but he doesn’t deserve this. Being pushed by others destroys a person piece by piece. It’s a terrible slow death.

You feel bad for him even after all the thing he has done. Nathan will never know colors.

He will die with those dead blue eyes…

“Happy” Ending

A few soft kisses wake you up from your almost comatose and dreamless sleep. “I know you are awake”, Nathan comments your attempts to get five more minutes of sleep amused. In surrender you open your eyes to see him looking down at you, while a slight smirk rests on his lips. His alive and colorful blue eyes are beautiful compared to his dead ones when you two met.  

You two have nothing left except for the clothes you are wearing and his father’s credit card, whish isn’t unlimited. There is no place you have to be. No plan to follow. Nathan is completely free for the first time in his life. To be with a person who loves him unconditionally is all what he needed to feel alive again.  

“You… You are beautiful”, Nate presses a kiss onto your forehead matching to his lovely words. You notice how close you two are. He held you tight through the entire night. Maybe he was afraid to wake up without you by his side like this is just a beautiful but limited dream.

“Sweeties! I made breakfast”, the old granny informs you through the still closed door. Nate gets up from the bed you two share mumbling something about taming his hair. You roll over to lie on his warm side. Your whole life got turned over, but you couldn’t be happier right now.  

“Wow, handsome”, you compliment his wet brown hair that clings onto his forehead. How did both of you get so lucky? Nathan leans down to capture your lips into a kiss full of desire. “You are dripping”, you push him softly away from you, “I don’t need a shower yet.”

Smiling he grabs your hand in his hand to pull you out of the bed. You get his hint and follow his wish. “I’m starving. I hope the old granny can cook”, Nate pulls you as close as possible towards him. “Let’s find out”, you literally can feel his excitement of his new life. What will bring you the new day?

“Sweeties! I’m so happy you two are here. The storm in Arcadia Bay was terrible. It destroyed half of the town and even killed a few people”, the granny greets you as she puts two plates with scrambled eggs down on an empty table.

“Thanks”, you mumble suddenly not so happy anymore. People died. Maybe friends of you and you weren’t there. Your hometown destroyed. You should call your parents, but what are you going to say to them? You run away with a murderer and don’t plan to come back?!  

“We need to think of a plan”, you place your hand on Nathan’s to get his full attention. “Do we? Can’t we just drive until we have enough?”, he replies stuffing the eggs into his mouth. For a second you think about his suggestion. “I were never outside of Arcadia Bay”, you just never had time or money to travel.

“Then let this be our plan … if you want”, Nathan loves his new freedom, but he loves you more so he would give it up for you. If it’s your wish to go back, Nate will follow you without a doubt. And you know that, but it’s actually not what your heart desires.

“Okay, we are going on an adventure”, you agree enjoying his rare smile. “Slept well, sweeties?”, granny joins the conversation with two cups of coffer right in time. “Have never slept better in my life”, you admit. Nate raises just a thumbs up, because he’s busy eating.

That’s your new life. He is your new life. The clearly broken Nathan Joshua Prescott with the former dead blue eyes.  

“I truly love you, [Y/N].”  

“This happened about two years ago to me, but it was pretty unsettling.

I’ll start by saying I used to have a shop in an over 100 year old building that was split up into three different storefronts. I had one shop, my best friend had another, and then the third was rented to another girl.

One day, I’m at the shop when the phone rings. A man is on the other line asking me for something or other and is being really spacey. I am trying to talk to him, but there are long pauses before his answers and he is just being a little odd. Finally, I ask him something and there is a long pause on the other end, long enough to make me ask, ‘Hello?’ because I think he has hung up on me. Instead he replies with, ‘Oh, I’m sorry. I’m just having a hard time focusing on our conversation because there is a spirit standing next to you that is yelling into the phone, trying to get my attention.’

At this point, I’m intrigued and decide to play along, so I say, ‘Oh really, what is he saying?’

The ‘psychic’ goes on to make a few broad comments about me and the space I’m in (all of which he could have easily found if he had looked on our website, so I’m not impressed), and says the man has been in the building since the early 1900s and is “infatuated” with me, has been following me for years, and frequently tags along with me to my house, my friends’ houses, and even places like the grocery store.

Okay, that’s interesting, but then it gets more-so.

He tells me the man is very jealous of the guy that I am dating, and doesn’t like him because we are so close. He then goes on to say that the spirit hurt the guy I am seeing when he was doing renovations on the building (which was 100% accurate, I put that story below*) and that he didn’t like that he was in his personal space changing it.

So, that was weird, but his next comment really bothered me.

The psychic says, ‘And he is very glad you broke up with that army dude. He really hated him.’ Now, this was weird to me because I had dated that guy about three years prior before and had been restationed right after we broke up and had never set foot in the building, nor had I seen him since we broke up. At the time of the phone call, I had only had my shop in the building for about six months, so I couldn’t figure out how this ‘spirit’ would know about him.

The guy told me some other stuff, most of which was pretty basic, and then I finally got him off the phone because he started getting weird, and I just wasn’t interested anymore. The whole conversation lasted about fifteen minutes, and I was thoroughly creeped by his couple of comments and couldn’t figure out how he knew so specifically the last two people I had dated (I should add that I don’t have any personal social media that someone can search for me for, so there wouldn’t have been any couples pictures up of me with either person I dated).

Then, it dawned on me. I had worked for about six months for my friend at her shop in the same building for some extra cash after I moved back to the city, which was about four years prior and in the time that I had dated/broken up with the army guy, which would also explain why the psychic said the spirit had been following me for years.

I no longer have the shop in that building, but still go in there every now and then to see my friend. We both agree that building has some bad vibes, especially at night, and there’s a couple more weird things that happened to me while I had the shop there.

TL;DR: Psychic guy calls my shop and begins to tell me all about the spirit who lives there and is in love with me and hates all the guys I date.

*So, before I opened the shop, the guy I was seeing at the time agreed to help me put ceiling lights up, which involved having to go into the attic. Now, the attic, like in any old building, was nasty, so I bought him one of those industrial dust suits to wear and a mask so he wouldn’t be breathing in asbestos and whatever else was up there. 

He’s up in the attic and I’m on the floor underneath, and we are communicating through this little hole that we are installing the light into, when I hear him yell, and then his voice gets really rushed and agitated, like he is irritated with me that I’m taking to long. So, finally, about ten minutes later, we get the light up and he comes barreling down the steps to the attic and flings the door shut. He looks really freaked out and begins ripping off the dust suit and pulls up his shirt. 

On his left side are three long claw marks/scratches, running the length of his side, one of which was bleeding. We look at the dust suit, no scratches through it, so he didn’t get caught on something, and the scratches were too widely spaced to have been a rodent’s, plus he hasn’t seen anything when he was up there.

According to him, he had felt weird up there to begin with, but the last light we were installing was all the way in the back corner of the attic, and he was lying on his stomach feeding me the chords down the little hole when he felt what felt like a whip go across his side.

TL;DR: Boyfriend gets scratched by unknown entity in attic, which psychic claims was the spirit in the building who is in love with me.”

By: Oliverrr36 (Creepypasta are great, but does anyone have any good true creepy stories?)

anonymous asked:

is dirk a canon horse furry?

You probably weren’t expecting an essay length answer to this question. So like let there be no doubt at all from this point onwards this is exactly the kind of content you can legitimately expect from this blog. This is who I am. I’m sorry.

Also, you’re welcome. 

Yes, Dirk is a furry. And his relationship to furries shows us a lot about his parallels and similarities to one Rose Lalonde. Who is also a furry.

Let’s get into this. 

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A Hard Day’s Night

Pairing: Dean/Castiel

Prompt: Castiel, bothered by his friends because he never even kissed someone, decides he can’t handle the nagging anymore and does something he thought he’d never do.

Tags: student!cas, escort!dean, angst 

Words: 1116

A/N: Part one of a series if there’s interest, feedback is very much appreciated.  

Tagging: @amazingstuartwhoisnotonfire @thedisgraced @funnycas @destielonfire @purgatoan @sunkissedsam @prettyboydean @saminzat @ducksorclowns @castielismyfavouriteangel (please let me know if you want to be tagged, or if I should get you off the list!)

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The Kiss (A dark and anti tale)

I know what you are asking and no. This is not a ship fic that the title may lead you to believe. In fact it is so much more than that.

This story tells the gripping tale of what happened 10 years ago… and the harrowing journey that led them to-

jk it’s a ship fic.

jk it’s actually just a fanfiction inspired by




(how do you like this coming to the surface guys? Don’t hate me senpais ily)

Enjoy. Or… like… don’t.

Dark stood idly, staring expectantly at his pupil and friend. “Does that all make sense?”

“It̶ ̷m̷a̵k̴e̵s̵.̷.̸.̴ ̸e̸n̸o̶u̸g̵h̴ ̶s̶e̸n̶s̵e̸.̸ ̸B̶u̶t̸ ̶w̸h̵y̷ ̸d̴o̸e̵s̶ ̸d̷i̸m̴e̵n̸s̶i̴o̴n̵a̵l̴ ̴t̷r̸a̶v̸e̶l̵ ̵h̷a̶v̶e̶ ̵s̶o̵ ̶m̶a̵n̴y̶ ̴r̷u̶l̶e̴s̴?̵” Anti sighed, pacing in front of his mentor. Anti’s voices began to echo what he had spoken. All in various tones and speeds, bouncing back and forth against the walls of the spacious room. Anti frowned deeply at the sounds of them, it was all very new for him- the voices. He would try to ignore them, but they were always with him… ever since Sean - his eyes burned brighter at the memory. Ever since Sean shut him out. Pushed him into darkness. Confinement. But that was before. That was when his name was Naes.

But now everything was different.

He was Anti, now. He would come back and repay what was owed. He would make his return to the world again, and every one of Sean’s little ‘subscribers’ would know his name.

Anti was oblivious that his lips had turned down into a nasty teeth clenched grimace. The voices turned to growls and barks, portraying how angry all of them really were over what had happened. They wanted vengeance too.

“Anti? What is the matter?”

Dark’s voice snapped Anti out of his silent seething, and Anti flinched. Dark was standing close to him, his red eyes watching him carefully. I̶t̷'̷s̴ ̶n̸o̴t̵h̶i̷n̶'̴ Anti dismissed.

Dark didn’t push him, he only intended to continue his lesson. “Did you hear anything that I said?” He said, eyes half lidded and narrowed in slight exasperation.

“N̷o̵p̷e̶.̸ ̸S̵o̷r̵r̷y̷.̴” Anti responded honestly, pushing his thoughts of resentment aside for the time being.

“I regress,” Dark began, wringing his fingers behind his back, “Inter-Dimensional travel can be very tricky, mistakes can happen. Simply put, the rules are there for a reason. Why, if there weren’t rules for a game, then it would no longer be a game…. Would it? There must be order. For all things. All beings. Especially ones such as you and I.” Dark paused for a moment, giving Anti time to take in the information he was given. Once he was satisfied with the engrossed expression on Anti’s face; he continued, “As Figments we possess the ability to travel through dimensions and other platforms in space. Which would never be as clean and organized as it is presently without what is known as the Council.”

“W̷h̶o̴'̷s̶ ̵i̸n̸ ̴t̶h̸e̸ ̸c̵o̷u̷n̵c̸i̴l̵ ̶a̸n̶y̴w̶a̶y̸s̸?̵” Anti asked thoughtfully, sticking out his bottom lip and fiddling with the black ear stretcher that was situated in his left lobe. He wished he could rip it off. It was a gift from Sean… It felt like forever ago when it had happened…

“Other unworldly beings who control what goes in and out of dimensions. And most importantly what enters the human world.” Dark answered, interrupting Anti’s thoughts once more. “They communicate by sending letters. I’m surprised you haven’t gotten your introductory letter yet. Or have you?”

Anti dimly recalled having an envelope plop down in front of him a few weeks back. At first he assumed it was from Sean, so he simply shrugged and threw it over his shoulder into a green flaming fire, “N̶o̷,̵ ̴I̵ ̵h̵a̴v̴e̵n̴'̷t̸ ̸g̷o̵t̶t̵e̴n̵ ̸o̴n̶e̷ ̸y̷e̶t̴.̵ ̶W̶e̵i̷r̵d̴.̶” Anti lied smoothly.

Dark sighed, “Very well. I will let them know to send one your way. In the meantime, shall we begin?”

“B̷e̶g̴i̶n̵ ̶w̸h̵a̷t̴,̵ ̶e̷x̴a̷c̴t̶l̷y̵?̴” Anti asked, tilting his head with a smile.

“Begin your teleportation lesson, of course.” Dark replied, shaking his head at his lack of common sense, he would have to teach him how to be intelligent too- but that was for another day.

“H̶e̴y̸!̴!̶!̸ ̴I̷ ̶k̵n̴o̸w̵ ̴h̴o̷w̸ ̸t̴o̵ ̷t̷e̶l̵e̵p̵o̷r̸t̶!̸ ̶” Anti barked defensively, crossing his arms now and glaring at him.

“Perhaps so, but practice can’t kill you. Nothing can actually. But you must remember that from today onwards I am your mentor and that what I say…“ Dark began to lean into where Anti’s face was. Anti straightened, his eyebrows furrowed at how close Dark was looming. “-Goes.” Dark finished.

Anti was so intimidated he quickly tore his eyes away from Dark’s, taking a step back, “F̸i̵-̸F̵i̶n̴e̸.̵.̶” He agreed.

Dark appeared a few feet from him again, smoothing down his black shirt as he walked away from him and continued explaining, “Very well, then. Rule one. It’s always important to focus whenever you are going to teleport.” Dark said. “If you let your mind wander too much…” He trailed off, wanting to give an example as his form shuddered and began to flicker back and forth from one place to the next. He breathes deeply, recovering from his example. “Not an enjoyable experience, quite stressful actually. And occasionally becomes air-bound. Rule number two, always remember to breathe. Even if us figments don’t need to, it always helps for concentration. It’s natural to take a deep breath before moving to your desired location.” He explained, and showed his case by intaking slowly. The movement lifted his shoulders up and he shut his eyes. The action was almost sensual as he closed his eyes, and vanished. Anti’s chest tightened at witnessing it, and he gnawed his inner cheek.

Then Dark appeared in front of Anti, who jumped in surprise. Anti broke into a grin, “N̵i̶c̸e̸ ̶o̸n̷e̶,̶ ̶D̷a̸r̶k̷y̴.̶ ̷Y̶o̴u̷ ̸g̵o̷t̴ ̴m̵e̵.̸” He admitted defeat, breaking into a dazzling wide-eyed grin.

Dark smirked in amusement, “Not my intention to ‘get you’. But why don’t you give it a try?”

Anti’s beam stretched wider, if it was possible. He nodded eagerly, “A̵l̶r̶i̶g̸h̸t̷”

“Try to take your time-” Dark tried to remind him…

But Anti was already wildly teleporting around the room, glitching from place to place in record-breaking time, poking Dark while he did so.

He poked Dark’s cheek and then teleported to the corner of the room.

He poked Dark’s back and then was out of reach once again.

Dark sighed, repressing a smile at how juvenile the green eyed figment was, “Yes…exactly like that.” He muttered sarcastically, yet found himself watching him with a tinge of delight.

“I’m doing it, Darky!” He shouted, flashing in front of him, and then to the side, and then behind him. Then Anti’s mind wandered back to the haunting example Dark had made.

That slow, gentle… patient inhalation of air. He recalled how Dark’s chest had lifted up with his diaphragm, the tee shirt he wore had tightened around his pectorals as he shut his eyes softly. Anti’s focus sputtered away as he pictured it, and he glitched out of reach; high up into the air, his face flushed. He was motionless for a moment as his body suspended in time and space, “O̶h̸ ̶s̶h̶i̸t̸.̷” He cursed and began to fall.

Dark promptly teleported under where he was, and held out his arms readily. Anti fell into them. Dark did not falter or stumble, he held him sternly; his eyebrows raised. Anti’s face had gone almost entirely red, and his eyes widened copiously. Dark was nonchalantly holding him bridal style without a care in the world.

“What did I tell you?” He murmured gently, his cool breath washing over Anti’s face while he spoke. “Never let your mind wander.”

“̴U̶-̵U̷m̵.̷.̵.̴ ̴O̷-̵o̷k̷.̴"̷ Anti whispered in reply, wondering why Dark was so close… wondering why he liked it.

“Does this make you uncomfortable?” Dark whispered, tightening the fingers that were holding up Anti’s legs. Anti didn’t respond, just as Dark expected. Dark bore his eyes into Anti’s and then he set him on his feet again. “Let’s move on, shall we?”

Anti teetered now that he was on stable ground, disoriented as a result of whatever just happened, “O̵.̷.̵.̸.̸.̸.̴.̷k̴a̵y̴”

Dark taught him next about the council rules, giving him a chance to write notes.

“Let me look at what you’ve written so far.” Dark said, holding out a hand for the notebook he had assigned to Anti.

“U̷-̷U̸h̵.̵.̴ ̸I̶-̸I̸'̴m̵ ̶n̸o̴t̵ ̴f̸i̶n̵i̶s̷h̵e̸d̵ ̷y̸e̵t̸.̴” Anti said, clutching it to his chest.

Dark’s hand did not waver, “Let me. LoOK.” He said through his teeth. “I won’t ask again.”

Anti rolled his eyes and relinquished the book, dropping it into Dark’s hand.

Dark turned it around and scanned it, “This is a crude drawing of you stabbing Jacksepticeye.” Dark stated in disbelief, holding up to analyze it further.

Anti pulled off a believable poker face, the voices breaking into hysterical laughter.

“Am I teaCHinG you in vAIn?” Dark questioned him, throwing the book to the ground and setting it aflame.

“A̷w̸ ̵t̷h̶a̶t̶ ̷t̸o̵o̸k̴ ̷m̶e̴ ̸a̶ ̵l̷o̵n̷g̷ ̸t̵i̴m̵e̴” Anti complained, falling to his knees and watching the book burn.

Dark stepped in front of him, his head tilted down to appraise him. “Frankly, I don’t give a damn.” He said, and grabbed Anti’s stubbled chin- tilting it up so Anti would look at him instead of the book. “When will you learn that I have no time for your shenanigans? You came here to learn. So learn.” He growled, and then released Anti’s chin.

Anti blushed again, and stood up so he wouldn’t be so short anymore. “F̶i̶n̶e̵.̴ ̷W̸h̶a̶t̷'̸s̶ ̸n̷e̸x̶t̸,̵ ̸t̶h̴e̷n̶?̶” He asked, sighing.

Dark commenced the final lesson of the day, he was growing weary of how uncooperative Anti was being. Dark also noticed each and every time that Anti became flustered over his flirting, how it caused him such discomfort.

“In the nature of figments such as us.. We must always remember to avoid our murderous urges to remain covert. If you’re going to work with me, you must avoid killing anyone who simply ‘bothers’ you. There are of course… exceptions to this.” Dark said, and a small chuckle bubbled up from his throat. “I’ll go into that later. But needless to say, it is imperitive that you contain it.”

Anti was studying his black nails, wanting to appear bored- it was kind of fun to annoy Dark. “S̷u̸r̸e̵.̷ ̶W̸h̷a̶t̴e̷v̶e̴r̴.̷”

Dark’s hand grabbed Anti’s wrist and shook it in the air, “You wouldn’t be saying ‘sure whatever’ when the council hUntS you down and chains you in your Void forever, nOw would you?” Dark’s voice was like the crack of a whip, making Anti wince.

“O̴k̵a̵y̵ ̶o̷k̸a̶y̴ ̴I̵ ̶g̴e̷t̸ ̷i̷t̸.̸” Anti sighed, pulling his hand away from his grip.

“I don’t think you do.” Dark disagreed. “No…” He shook his head eerily, his head downcast, face no longer visible as his shoulders shook. “…You like to play games. How do you feel about being played with?” Dark asked, looking up at him with pure black eyes. His face was mere inches away from Anti’s as he placed his hands on his unfocused pupil’s waist- pulling him in tight. Then Dark pressed his lips on his. Anti was blinking rapidly, momentarily paralyzed. When he realized that what was occurring was in fact reality, he let his eyes fall shut. Dark quickly tore away to gawk at him incredulously.

Anti had enjoyed it. Dark was so prepared to be rejected. The awkwardness of it all twisted him up inside. His plan had failed completely.

Anti however was hungry for more- his hands on Dark’s chest, clutching the black fabric there. He quickly leaned in for yet another kiss.

Dark was frigid as he watched him close in, felt their lips brush for the second time. Dark wasn’t having it, and he promptly seized Anti’s wrists. Then shoved Anti away by those wrists.

Anti threw his head back in a guffaw as he stumbled out of reach; his individual voices chattered amongst themselves in their own amazement, I̴ ̷c̸a̵n̷’̵t̵ ̶b̸e̶l̷i̸e̴v̷e̶ ̵y̶o̴u̶ ̴a̷c̵t̴u̵a̶l̸l̵y̶ k̶i̵s̷s̷e̴d̷ ̵m̴e̸.̸”̸ ̴

Dark expression changed to one of animosity, “I can’t believe you actually enjoyed it. I didn’t. I was just trying to prove a point!” Dark quickly said, stumbling over his words as if they were barriers in a losing race.

“S̷u̵r̸e̷ ̵y̸o̵u̴ ̸w̶e̵r̷e̵,̶ ̷d̴a̷r̶k̸y̶.̴” Anti stated, and made finger guns at him, his face still flushed despite having been rejected. Then Anti vanished, leaving Dark to his embarrassment.

anonymous asked:

The andy cohen interview did kind of upset me. So then I spent some time trying to parse through my feelings and separate out why I felt upset. The el and freddie stuff hasn't actually bothered me - it's been fairly low key and I don't believe it so it's easy to brush off. The crazy fan / conspiracy thing feels hurtful to me because it's calling out me for believing a concept that isn't actually crazy at all ( that closets and bearding do exist ). Then I was thinking it's probably very (1/3)

(2/3) different for Louis. Maybe that’s a much easier way for him to deal with the closeting than actually doing flat out denials. I think perspective is very important and ultimately, as you said, his closet is affecting him the most, not me. Another thing that helped me not be upset about it was the realization that the most of the interviewers and Louis don’t actually think that hiring a woman to beard is preposterous - they know closeting exists And also even if other people do think the

(3/3) possibility that Harry and Louis are together and being closeted is crazy I know it isn’t. I’m a smart, logical person and I can see that it isn’t crazy & my opinion is enough for me. Another reason why I was upset is because of the way Louis interacts with his fanbase. He emphasizes that it’s a partnership and we’re in it together, so the relationship feels more personal. As you said I’m sure his actual relationship with fans is more complicated. I always enjoy your perspective on things.


Thanks for this ask.  It’s really smart and well thought through.  I’m also grateful because it gives me a chance to expand what I said before.

It is true that I don’t get upset when Louis says that believing Elinor is crazy or anything else he’s said as a denial.  But I understand that other people feel differently.  I don’t think (and hope I didn’t imply) that there is anything wrong with having an emotional reaction to Louis’ denial or any other reaction of fandom. I think fans should honour and respect their reactions, including (probably particularly) negative reactions. 

Louis has every right to negotiate the closet however is best for him and to say whatever it is he needs to say.  And fan have every right to be upset. However, there should be space between our reactions to things and the world.  Just because something is upsetting to one person, or a group of people doesn’t mean that it should stop happening. It is that sense of boundaries and that distance that I think is often lacking in this fandom (not in you anon - you’re great at it - I’m just trying to explain what I think).

This is clearest when it comes to discussion of Louis mentioning Eleanor.  I think the best response of fans not liking hearing Louis mentioning Eleanor would be recommendations of interviews where he didn’t mention Eleanor or people making cuts where his mention was taken out.   Instead we get summaries that greatly exaggerate him mentioning of Eleanor and furious analysis about how this is obviously a terrible business strategy and he needs to stop it right now.

And it’s that lack of boundaries - I don’t like it therefore it must be a terrible business strategy and ruining everything that does my head in in this fandom.  I liked individual songs on Harry’s album, but there are some key decisions which stopped me from connecting to the music.  That doesn’t mean he shouldn’t have made the album. I’m glad he made the album he wanted to make.  It doesn’t mean the album did terribly (and there are definitely people who because they don’t like Harry chase up every bit of evidence to present a false picture of him doing terribly).

I’m going to sound like a cross between an annoying group facilitator and an English teacher - but one of the solution is change the subjects of our sentences.  

What is so lovely about your ask is that you are directly talking about your reaction - you use ‘I statements’.  You talk about what you think and feel and how you processed those feelings.  In the aftermath of the denial people weren’t talking about and respecting their own reactions.  People were writing furiously about Louis and Louis’ team all in a way that implied that their (hidden) emotional reaction should affect Louis’ behaviour rather than writing directly about those reactions.

And ultimately I think demanding than fan emotional reaction affect Louis’ behaviour, to me, isn’t compatible with believing Louis is closeted (which I do).  There are some big life events where it’s important that you don’t make other people pay attention to your reaction to their experience - serious illness and trauma.  I believe that the closet is one of those experiences.

Sorry that was just my expanded thoughts - I didn’t want anyone who was upset to think that I thought there was anything wrong with being upset, or that they should disregard their emotional reaction for Louis’ sake. Emotional reactions are a key part of fandom - but fans can experience them and talk about them without demanding anything from 1D members.


To respond more directly to what you say - I think it’s a really important point.  Everything (with one notable exception that I don’t talk about) that we think happened closeting Harry and Louis is common place - an industry norm.  That’s not an assumption of ours - there’s a tonne of evidence for it. To believe in closeting isn’t crazy..

I’m glad you respected your reaction and reaffirmed what you knew.  I think that’s really awesome.  Those are skills that will help your rock this world and recover when the world rocks you. 

inell  asked:

“I accidentally called you my girlfriend/boyfriend today.” Stiles/Derek

Stiles lets himself into Derek’s apartment, calling out a hello as he dumps Derek’s mail on the side. It’s not an unusual habit, Stiles spotting Derek’s scant bills and correspondence in his mailbox and grabbing it for him on the way up. What is unusual is Derek not rolling his eyes when Stiles comes through the door with his post. He likes to complain that he might have something private in there and that Stiles is too nosy for his own good. Stiles always taps his nose, says it’s too cute to be an annoyance, and Derek rolls his eyes again, turns away with a fond smile.

Stiles likes putting that smile there, likes seeing Derek happy, revelling in something as easy and light as gentle bickering. To some people it might seem like nothing, to Stiles and Derek it’s a damn miracle. After everything they’ve been through, survived, to come out the other side and still have some sort of lightness inside of them; Stiles is endlessly grateful. He’s glad to be alive, glad that Derek is, too. He likes getting into the semantics of whether or not having a cute nose gets him a free pass when it comes to rummaging through Derek’s mailbox. Besides, it’s not like he ever reads it; Derek doesn’t get anything particularly interesting. That’s not the point, it’s just a habit, now. The same way Derek always reminds Stiles to take a sweater with them if they’re headed out, or Stiles picks up Hershey’s kisses at the store because he knows Derek likes them, but won’t buy them himself on pain of death.

Not, that he’s using that phrase literally. 

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[Voltron]: a little solace and peace

sooooooo……first voltron fic?

for @longhairpidge bc she’s recently been enchanted with plance and she cheered me up yesterday when i was feeling crummy. so here’s hoping that the rest of your day starts looking up :)

Link to Archive of Our Own: [AO3]

Title: a little solace and peace
Pairings: Place (Pidge x Lance)
Summary: Pidge knows what it’s like to lose most of what you call yours and find yourself flung into space to fight a war she might not win. It’s not the time to want things that are silly and wish for things that won’t happen. But Lance knows that she deserves it.

a little solace and peace

Pidge cut her hair for Matt.

Sweeping her hair into the trash can, stealing Matt’s old frames, and becoming Pidge Gunderson was a manifesto to herself — a single-minded promise to bring her family back to her no matter the distraction, no matter the cost to her, no matter how long it took. If she ever lost sight of that promise, all she ever needed to do was look in the mirror, squint her eyes, let the edges of her reflection blur and soften, and wait until she saw Matt staring back at her, telling her not to give up.

So perhaps, on the outside looking in, it does seem rather ridiculous for her to be tearing her room apart, looking for a knife or some scissors to take to her hair after looking in the mirror that morning and seeing Katie — Katie who was letting her hair grow out too long, Katie who needed to remember Matt, Katie who made a promise — but this is all she has of him anymore. A worn photograph and his blurred face staring back at her in the reflection of her paladin helmet.

When she finds nothing, Pidge heads to Lance’s room because if there’s anyone who cares more about what stares back at them in the mirror every morning, it’s him.

He’s wiping off the last bits of his facemask with a towel when she opens the door, and he barely has time to ruffle her hair and spit out a dorky greeting before the words are flying out of her mouth, “I need to borrow a pair of scissors.”

Lance blinks at the volume and speed of her words, but looks back into his room — covered in facial products, old Altean lounge clothes he’s repurposed into robes and pajamas, gifts inhabitants from other planets have given him over the past year — and says, “I’m pretty sure I have some around here somewhere. Why, what do you need them for?”

Pidge swallows. “I just need them. Just for five minutes.”

Lance merely shrugs — it’s not the first time Pidge has asked her teammates for weird things to aid in whatever pet project is keeping her distracted that day — and invites her in, letting her sit on his unmade bed while he rummages around his drawers and produces a small pair of scissors that don’t look very sharp but will probably do the job just fine.

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Your Most Beautiful Moment in Life pt.2: Prologue
(Non-idol!AU) It’s summer when you and Jungkook meet, and immediately decide that you didn’t like each other. It all begins by the hill where the prince reunites with the princess.

P | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23 | 24 | 25 | 26 | 27 | 28 | 29 | 30 | 31 | 32 | 33A | 33B | 34 | 35 | 36 | E

You remember the day Saren arrived in your little town. It was on the very day the flame trees bloomed last year. She came to work at the hilltop orphanage despite the very little pay. She was good with the children and they loved her–she was petite, pretty, and polite, and they thought she was like a fairy-tale princess.

And you agreed. But rather than a princess who lived happily ever after in a castle, she was like one who escaped into the woods, cursed, hiding from dark demons from her past. She always seemed wary of anyone who came close to her, and her smiles never reached her eyes. Your friends, Hyuk and Hongbin, thought her standoffish, but you saw her simply as lonely and scared. There was only you, your mom, and your grandma at home, and more than enough space for a tiny young woman who needed the company. So, you took her in.

Slowly, her smiles grew brighter. Hyuk and Hongbin–especially Hongbin–grew fond of her. And then it seemed to you as if she had always been here in your little town and belonging to your family home.

Still, you sometimes wondered if some prince from faraway would come for the hilltop princess.

Today, when you ride your bike to to the hill, you see a prince-like man approach Saren under the flame trees. You form a heart with your hands and peer into it, framing the beautiful picture they make. “I guess he must be the prince.”

Feeling your neck prickle under scrutiny, you turn to find a young man staring unabashedly at you. He doesn’t even react when you catch him and continues to stare. You find yourself getting flushed from embarrassment instead, so you level him a challenging look and ask: “So what does that make you?”

A smirk plays upon his perfect Cupid bow lips and you feel your cheeks grow even hotter. Instead of answering your question, he snickers: “Him? A prince? You don’t seem to have very high standard for men in this town.”

You glare at him. Nobody talks shit about this town but me! “High enough to know that you’re a frog!” you retort.

Instead of getting angry or flustered as you hope, he only chuckles in amusement. You feel even more off-balance because of his unexpected response. “A frog prince then, since that prince charmless is my hyung.” The smile he gives you is more bunny-like than froggish, however. You find yourself holding your breath. “Jungkook.”

“Jungkook?” you echo. “Why are you calling me Jungkook? Do I look like a Jungkook to you?”

He shakes his head, laughing out loud. “That’s my name. Jungkook. What’s yours? You do have names in this town, don’t you?”

“Y/N!” you all but yell. “That’s my name. Got that?”

“Sounds normal enough,” he playfully concedes. He turns back to the couple on the hill before you can think of a comeback, and you follow his gaze.

You lift the trusty camera hanging from your neck and start snapping. They don’t seem to be talking. Jungkook’s older brother gazes at Saren with adoration. He looks prince-like enough… and yet the apprehension on her face belongs to a princess who’s cornered by a dragon, not meeting a prince.


“So why did you come to this backwater town?” you demand, to fill the silence than out of any real interest.

Jungkook points at the hilltop. “For my hyung. For her… my hyung’s princess.”

“I knew he was a prince,” you mutter under your breath. “But I guess not all siblings are alike.”

He gives you a sidelong glance. “Don’t frown so much. As soon as we convince noona to come home, we’re leaving.”

It’s your turn to laugh. “With Saren-unnie? Did you really think it would be that easy?”

Much to your satisfaction, uncertainty flashed in his eyes. “Huh?”

You grin wickedly. “I suggest you try to get comfortable in this little town, city boy. I think you’ll have to stick a while.”

As if on cue, Saren runs down the hill, her long hair fluttering behind her. She doesn’t bother to use the flight of steps leading from the orphanage to the dirt road by the hill, and almost slips. Jungkook opens his arms to catch her, but she barrels towards you, and you steady her by the shoulders before she can smack straight into your chest.

“Unnie, you okay?” you ask, less about her panicked run and more about the clamminess of her skin and the paleness of her face.

“Yes, Y/N,” she gives you a reassuring smile that doesn’t convince you. “Are you heading home now?”

“Yeah. I just came here to see if you have time to eat lunch at home. Mom made your favorite kimchi jjigae, though it’s really too hot for it.”

She smiles again, more genuine this time. “Let’s go then.”

“But–wait, noona…” Jungkook stammers.

“Kookie!” She claps her hands together and dips her head in a small, apologetic bow. “I’m so glad to see you again. I’m in a hurry right now but… we’ll talk soon, alright?” Without waiting for his response, she hurries to your bike; you’re barely able to sit and steady it before she climbs to stand behind it.

“Hold tight!” you exclaim, pushing off with one foot and pedaling down the path. Saren’s arms wrap around your waist. You look over your shoulder to see Jungkook gaping and blinking in your wake–he shakes himself out of it when his older brother stumbles down the hill to stand beside him.

“Did you tell her?” Jungkook asks.

“I didn’t get the chance,” his older brother replies softly.

Then you’re too far away to hear anything more. You glance at Saren, who’s staring straight ahead, her eyes wide and anxious. “Unnie, what did that guy want?”

“Nothing,” the tell-tale high pitch of her voice giving away the lie. “He just wanted to say hi.”

“Old friends?”

“One friend. And one… former schoolmate.”

“I see.” You pedal faster as excitement bubbles in your heart. A bit of guilt stabs at you–Saren clearly has a plenty of misgivings about the new arrivals–but just a bit. “It looks like something interesting is going to happen in this town for once.”

A/N: Saren is pt.1′s Y/N, so this Y/N is someone completely new.

friends forever pt. viii

here’s the next part in the best friend!saga, by @permanentguitar​ and myself. catch up on previous chapters here.

I’m obsessed with you, I’m obsessed with you, I’m obsessed with you.

The words ring in her ears as he disappears into the bathroom, leaving her on her knees on the floor, alone. She replays the last few seconds in her head, thinks about the way he cupped her face so tenderly then licked himself from her lips, told her “I’m obsessed with you” and that he’s gonna tell her how good her fucking mouth on his cock was after he takes a post-orgasm piss.

She wants to die.

She can feel her cunt between her thighs, slick and fucking aching with need. Her clit is hard, twitching against the fabric of her panties, and all she wants to do right now (besides die) is stick her hand between her legs and get off. She doesn’t do that, though, can’t do it, not here, not when he’s going to come back and try to do it himself while he waxes poetic about her lips on his dick.

This isn’t how she pictured it, is all. This is filthy. This is fucking. This is hooking up during a wedding because they’re both lonely and young and still always so horny. This isn’t– It’s not what she wants with him. She can’t believe she ruined it so easily.

She’s up and walking out of the suite, stumbling back to her own across the hall before she realizes she didn’t call out to him, didn’t leave a note, nothing. It doesn’t matter– she wouldn’t have risked him catching her anyway.

She drops her cotton shorts the minute she’s behind her locked hotel door and hurries to the bed, climbing in and rolling onto her back. She calms, finally, for a moment, and just stares at the ceiling. Her pussy pulses between her thighs, her lips and skin soaked from arousal, from the memory of his touch, his kiss, his cock. She’s heartbroken, but so, so turned on, and the latter ends up winning as she pushes her hands under her (his) shirt and starts stroking her own belly.

He’ll never take her seriously, she’s thinking, because she’s branded herself as the Sex Friend, now. The good-time girl who’s down for some dirty throat fucking on a wild weekend away. She’s blowing it out of proportion and knows Shawn would never think of her that way, but she also can’t read his mind, so she worries. Guys love blowjobs - some seriously good head won’t make him fall in love with her.

She wants him to want her for all the things only she can give him. For the bits of her that make her special, that leave her mark on the world. Anyone can give a stellar blowjob. Anyone can be a sex friend. She doesn’t want to be just anyone. Not to him.

I’m obsessed with you.

She takes a breath and lets the memory of his words wash over her, then closes her eyes as she slowly trails one of her hands down her stomach to the apex of her thighs. She starts slowly, teasingly, likes she thinks maybe Shawn would, if he were there or she had stayed instead of running away like a brat.

Her fingers slides over the slick-soaked fabric of her panties that clings to her folds, spreads her legs and hisses, pressing down a little harder. She can almost hear it, his voice ringing so purely in her mind as she thinks of him laughing, saying, “Jesus, baby, you got wet like this from sucking me off?” and she whines, nodding her head to the empty space beside her and pressing two fingers tightly against her swollen clit.

She imagines Shawn’s groan, his growl, any one of the various noises she heard back in his room with his cock in her mouth, and starts slipping her fingers against her clit harder, faster, her breath hitching in her throat when the fabric catches against her skin in a way that makes her toes curl.

Soon it’s not enough with her underwear in the way. Quickly, she wiggles free of the thin, soaked fabric and pushes her fingers back between her slick folds. She works the tips of her fingers slowly over the bump of her clit before pushes further back to tease her pussy. She sinks two fingers into herself, just to the first knuckle, and moans. She rocks her hips up a little, but knows she won’t be able to find her g-spot– she never has been, not on her own.

She stretches herself a bit, teasing her pussy gently as she avoids her clit, just to drive herself crazy. She thinks about Shawn’s perfectly long fingers and how she knows he’d be able to find her spot, to stroke it so well, to bring her over the edge so easily. The idea makes her feel hazy with want and she has to pull her fingers from her tight heat so she can rub them messily against her clit instead.

She pictures him between her legs, sucking at the insides of her thighs as he works his slender fingers inside of her, curling them in a steady ‘come hither’ motion against her g-spot while the thumb of his other hand swirls around her clit tightly. In reality, it’s her own middle finger that’s working her clit in circles, not bothering to tease any longer, letting the feeling overwhelm her.

She fucks her hips up in an erratic rhythm to get extra friction against her clit as her orgasm builds in her gut. One moment she’s teetering on the edge, and then her finger slips against her clit at just the right angle and she’s sent careening over, coming as her hips move with a life of their own.

Eventually she collapses onto the bed as she takes a few gasping breaths and tries not to think too hard about what she’s done. She hates that she thought about him, and hates that she doesn’t want to figure out how to start thinking about someone else, instead. She’s thought about him before, so many times. She rarely thinks about someone else, and when she does, it usually ends up being some faceless man she just wishes were Shawn, instead.

She has to shower, then sleep. She has to wake up and see him and not run away from him with her tail between her legs. She can’t. She’ll feign confidence, like she always does. She prides herself on being the picture of perfection in even the most stressful of situations, and this wedding shouldn’t be any different. She doesn’t want to give him any reason to think she’s interested in being his casual Fuck Buddy, but she also doesn’t want to act so terribly ashamed that he’ll think she hates him or something. She could never hate him.

If she’s cool, confident, collected, then maybe. Maybe she can get through it without saying anything too embarrassing like, “I’m not a slut, I just love you.” Not that any woman is a slut, but she’s been socialized to feel ashamed for liking the heft of a cock between her lips, so having that insecurity isn’t exactly her fault.

She has to relax. Tomorrow is a new day. She’s worried now, anyway, that she ruined more by running away than she did by sucking him off. Another reason why she needs to be totally cool tomorrow. So she can pretend she definitely didn’t run away, that she was tired and just wanted to… give him a gift, or something. It sounds totally cheesy, but if she uses the right lilt in her voice and gives him the perfect smirk, it could sound kind of hot.

She still wants to flirt with him after all, she just wants to do it as if this night never happened. She’s seriously hoping it’s possible.

She wakes up to the sun spilling in through the curtains she forgot to close, and two texts from last night that she’d been too embarrassed to even attempt to answer.

Mendes: are you okay?


Mendes: don’t forget i’m sending breakfast in the morning, short stop.

She’d gone to sleep with butterflies trying to claw their way out of her stomach.

Now the alarm he’d set for her before the– the incident is going off as she’s brushing her teeth. She gargles, spits, and rinses her toothbrush, then pulls off the stupid shirt that smells like him and changes into the fluffy white hotel robe hanging on the back of the bathroom door.

Thirty minutes later, she eats the breakfast he ordered perfectly for her (she hates how fucking bougie that sounds, but he is a rock star), and tries not to think about how romantic it is. She’ll puke it all up if she worries too much about it, and then it definitely won’t be romantic.

She’d texted him sorry, yes, she’s was great, just tipsy and tired and needed her sleep because “a face like this doesn’t happen without some beauty rest, Mendes,” because she’s said it to him before and it feels normal, to text him like that, and it’s the beginning of her Cool Girl act she’s spent 10 years cultivating.

She smooths her red dress down her hips as she waits for the elevator to land in the lobby. She’d perfected her glossy red lips, so she’s trying desperately now not to gnaw on them or mash them together like every synapse in her body is telling her to do. Her fingers curl into her palms at her sides as she clicks her way into the lobby, looking around for the boy– the man– that has her so devastatingly flustered this weekend (and always).

Then she spots him. And boy, does she want to run away again. And not necessarily for any reason that differs from before.

He looks so fucking good, is all. His charcoal suit fits almost too well as it clings to his muscles. She feels wholly inadequate, no matter how many times she’s reminded he’s still just another guy, just another kid, really. It doesn’t matter that they can both vote and drink, now. She knows she’s still a child, too, because she can’t admit to her best friend that she doesn’t think she’ll ever love anyone more than she does him.

Finally, he sees her, and now she can’t run. She’s stuck, trapped in this hotel with the love of her life and the dread that fills her chest and threatens to swallow her alive.

Then he smiles.

Her pace picks up and she can’t help but smile back, lifting her hand in a delicate wave which she realizes she doesn’t drop until she’s walking right up to him. She’s such a moron.

Now that she’s closer she can see the way his smile makes his eyes crinkle, but looks labored, like he’s worried about something and maybe shouldn’t be smiling. She wets her lips and tilts her, before letting her gaze rake over him, obvious enough so he can see.

“I believe this is the part when I tell you that you clean up nice, Mendes,” she says, lifting her eyes back to his face, but never reaching his gaze. She can’t– not yet.

He can probably tell– she always makes eye contact, so he can probably tell she’s not now. Her suspicion is confirmed by the strangled laugh that sounds like he has to force from his lungs.

“My, um, my mom– she made me wear this thing,” he mutters, looking down at himself as he rocks back on his heels. Yeah, they’re definitely still kids.

She laughs, a genuine one because he’s so fucking cute, and she immediately wishes she could swallow it. Why does he deserve her real laughter when she gets his imitation? But still, she says, “Well, you’re mom knows what she’s talking about,” instead of sticking her tail between her legs like she desperately wants to.

She tries to sound relaxed, tries to emulate the easy way she used to tease and flirt with him like this, but it’s difficult when he’s looking at her like she’s a butterfly he doesn’t want to scare away. She really hopes he doesn’t ask her if she’s–

“Are you okay?” His big, brown eyes plead with her.

–okay. She’s totally not okay.

“Absolutely, Mendes,” she replies anyway, then smiles, her apple red lips stretching across her face as she tries in vain to look genuine. “But we’re going to be late if you keep standing there like a scarecrow,” she continues and slips her hand into his before pulling him down the corridor towards the banquet hall for the ceremony.

She ignores the way his thumb glides along hers, making her skin prickle with the heat of her need for him, and drops his hand as soon as they find seats on the bride’s side of the aisle.

She ignores Shawn’s hand on the small of her back when they stand as the bride enters and walks down the aisle, then has to ignore his arm around the back of her chair for the rest of the ceremony.

She has to ignore his concerned eyes studying her the entire walk across the grounds to the reception that’s being held under the stars. She has to ignore the way his suit jacket, now wrapped around her shoulders, smothers her in his intoxicating scent and makes her pussy ache.

She ignores it all because it makes the hope-filled balloon nestled in her chest swell and threaten to burst. If it pops, she won’t make it through the rest of the weekend without winding up at home utterly disappointed. She wants to have fun at the reception, so she can’t let herself get bogged down in what could’ve been with Shawn.

Shawn gets caught up in a throng of friends that were never really her friends before they can find a table to claim as their own, so drops his jacket on a random chair and goes to find the bar instead. She’ll need champagne to do this. She won’t go as far down the rabbit hole as she did last night, but she definitely can’t be dead sober for this thing either.

She knows Shawn. She knows he’ll ask her to dance, because he’s a fucking sucker for dancing to cheesy songs at weddings. Reason number 103 why she’s in love with him.

She’s waiting for the bartender to open a fresh bottle of champagne when she feels him behind her, that damn hand of his once more on the small of her back, those damn eyes again looking down at her like she’s bleeding out and he can’t do anything about it.

God. She fucked up so bad with him. That’s not the look she wants from him. She wants him in awe, delighted, infatuated, if he can’t be in love. She doesn’t want this concerned best friend thing. She’s ready for more.

But he must’ve learned his lesson, because when he decides to speak, it’s not to ask her if she’s okay for the third time in twelve hours.

Instead, he musters up a smiles and asks, “Did you order me one?” then reaches over her shoulder to snag the glass of champagne the bartender poured for her while she was distracted by Shawn’s looming presence.

“My answer clearly doesn’t matter since you’re a thief either way, hm?” She arches a manicured eyebrow at him, lips pursed as she waits for his reply…

@permanentguitar youuu’reeee it!!!!

anonymous asked:

Hi, can a give you a prompt on a cute yousana scene? I love the way you write! Yousef comes back from Turkey and spends lot of time with Sana, one day he talks about the fact that back in Turkey he has got closer to islam again, so now they can be together without problems (idk but they even have their first, cute kiss?). Hope you like this idea xx

Hey :)

Thank you for your prompt and I hope this is similar to what you imagined. Let me know what you think.


“Do you want to hear something I haven’t told anyone else, yet?”, Yousef says and breaks the comfortable silence between Sana and him.

They got gelato and have been walking around for a bit. Since he came back from his vacation in Turkey, during which the two of them kept in touch daily, they’ve been closer than ever. 

Sana looks at him with a smile on her face, her ice cream already melting.
“Not even Elias?”, she asks to which Yousef laughs and shakes his head. 

“You know, he’s getting jealous of how much time I spend with you.”, Yousef mentions and smirks at her. Sana blushes lightly; they really have been spending a lot of time together and she loves it.

Sana laughs with a nod: “He actually glared at me when I told him I’m meeting you!” It was really absurd. But also very funny. “You might need to pay more attention to him again.”

Yousef laughs and Sana joins him. It’s almost impossible to not laugh when Yousef is laughing.

Yousef nods and eats a little bit of his ice cream: “I’ll keep that in mind.”

They walk by a bench and Yousef nods into its direction. Sana immediately understands what he means and they sit down, barely any space between them. 

“Okay, sorry. I wanted to hear what you haven’t told anyone else, yet. Go ahead.”, Sana tries to say casually but secretly she is freaking out because he trusts her enough to share something personal with her. The tone of his voice implied that it’s not just something cheesy he would sometimes blurt out.

Sana looks at Yousef but his eyes are trained on his ice cream he stirs around in the little cup. He has a small smile on his face but there’s something about the way he doesn’t look up at her for a while that makes Sana worried. She is not going to push him though. He never does. She won’t either. 

Finally, he looks up at her. A strand of hair that’s sticking out under the snapback falls into his eyes and he flicks his head lightly to get it away. Sana’s eyes follow that movement and she smiles to herself. 

Yousef smiles and leans back and then turns his body completely towards Sana. His knees touching the side of her leg. Sana’s eyes go towards that small touch but quickly turn to Yousef again.

“Do you remember that picture I sent you of the Hagia Sophia one day before Eid?”

Sana nods. She definitely remembers. It’s not like she reread all the messages they send each other more than once. Her smile widens when she remembers what he wrote her. Yousef sees Sana’s smile grow and can tell why. Her dimples start showing and his hand itches to cup her cheek but he refrains for now.

“You told me you would take me there one day.”, Sana blurts out with a fond smile playing on her lips.

Yousef nods and chuckles. He observes how Sana’s cheeks grow red and smiles to himself. How can someone be this pretty? 

“And I will.”, he responds. He didn’t just say that. He plans on really doing that one day. Sana lowers her head and looks intensely at her ice cream. Even the thought of that alone makes her insanely happy.

Yousef takes in a breath and decides to just start. He needs to talk to someone about this and he is more than sure that Sana is the right person to do that with. 

“You know,”, he starts and him and Sana start grinning at the same time. Usually it’s Sana who starts her sentences like that. 

“The Hagia Sophia was a church first, was turned into a mosque and later became a museum. Now there are talks about turning it back to a mosque.”, Yousef continues. 

Sana turns her body facing him, too, and nods understanding. She doesn’t know how this would relate to his secret. With a small interested smile she waits.

Yousef almost forgets what he wants to say because Sana looks at him with so much interest and he knows that she will listen carefully to what he has to say.

He tries to form his thoughts into words that make sense. It’s hard talking about this because it’s not something he does often. Yousef only ever talked to Sana about his views on religion in this measure. To other people he’ll mention that he lost his faith or that he’s not Muslim but with Sana… with Sana it’s easy to voice doubts and discuss because she doesn’t judge. She doesn’t give her opinions to change his mind; she gives her opinions to share them with him. Nothing else.

“In Norway..”, Yousef says and confuses Sana. He just jumped from one continent to another in his story. “.. or any other secular country, it’s easy to forget about your faith.. or rather lose focus on it.”

Even though Sana is not sure where he is going with that, she nods. She understands what he means and agrees. 
Yousef looks down at his almost completely melted ice cream and feels relieved to have started this conversation. Now he can’t back down and he really needed to say some of this out loud.

“But those two months I spend in Turkey… In Turkey you’re reminded of religion all the time. It’s a mostly Muslim country; there are mosques at every corner and in some cities public calls for prayer.”

Sana listens to him and watched his facial expressions. He is very serious about this. She knows that Yousef always takes conversations like this seriously, and she loves that, but the fact that he starts this conversation without there being something between them that leads to it is interesting to her. The other times they talked about religion it was because it stood between them being together, or at least it was something Sana needed to talk about to come to a decision. And she did. She doesn’t mind the hardships they might face, she accepts it because faith is deeply personal and at the end of the day Yousef shares her values and he has proven how respectful he is of her faith. Even if he doesn’t see everything like she does.

Yousef looks up and into Sana’s eyes. She smiles lightly at him because she can see that he is a little nervous.

“And if you’re not religious at all, or not Muslim, it doesn’t bother you at all. You walk by mosques and see people go to listen to an Imam or something and just don’t care. But..”, he stops talking for a moment and Sana can imagine where this is going. Yousef looks at her with some kind of expectation in his eyes but she doesn’t know what exactly it is. She decides to just wait and let him finish his story.

Yousef takes another deep breath and looks for sign on Sana’s face of how she might react. His eyes wander over all her face and sitting so close to her he can’t stop thinking how beautiful she is and it’s not just her outer beauty.

“Well, over those weeks with my grandparents and family in Turkey… I kind of found myself being drawn back to my faith. I found myself feeling better than I do usually when visiting those big mosques and when I heard my grandpa reading the Koran in the other room I got the feeling of wanting to join him and actually read and understand what it’s saying. And we visited the small village my grandma is from and seeing how much their faith means so much to some people and make them be grateful for everything they have instead of being bitter about what’s not there… I don’t even know how to phrase it. But after the thing with Even I felt like if there was a God why would he let something like that happen and I feel like the confusion about what happened with one of my best friends lead me to believe something I myself don’t believe completely.”

It feels good to have said all that out loud. No, it feels great. These thoughts have been in his head for too long. Yousef feels like a weight has been lifted off his chest. He doesn’t know why but he felt like he shouldn’t be saying or even thinking that because he did turn his back to his faith once and for some time he thought there is no going back.

Sana takes in everything Yousef tells her. It’s very obvious to her that telling her all this wasn’t very easy for him but now that he said it he looks somewhat relieved to Sana. But she also notices his hand shaking a little and instinctively reaches out to take his hand. They’ve been spending so much time together lately that this doesn’t feel weird. 

Yousef looks at his hand covered by Sana’s now and smiles. Then, finally, he can look at her again. He didn’t even notice that his hand was shaking at first. But it might be because he doesn’t know what reaction to expect from Sana. He knows she won’t judge but will she be happy that he is Muslim again or at least on his way there.

When he looks at her, she just shows him a small understanding smile. Sana wonders what she should say next. She has a few thoughts but doesn’t know if those would be what he wants to hear.

Yousef keeps looking at her with an expression that shows he expects some kind of reaction so Sana finally says: “I’m really happy for you, Yousef. I’m happy that you feel good with all of that.“ 

Yousef knows Sana enough by now to know that that is not all she wants to say.

"Sana, whatever is going through your mind, please tell me. You never judge me and I value your opinion on this a lot so it doesn’t matter if it’s not what you think I want to hear.”

Sana looks unsure but does as he suggests. She puts her cup with ice cream aside, it’s all melted by now anyway, and sits up straight.

“I don’t want to come across disrespectful.”, she says first and Yousef feels like laughing. Sana and disrespectful? Doesn’t match in the same sentence. He nods for her to continue.

“But like you said, here it is easy to forget about your faith because you’re not faced with it … In Turkey it’s easy to focus more on it because it’s all around you. I really don’t want to invalidate what you feel and it’s not my place either, I know. Faith is a really personal thing and I shouldn’t have said anything in the first place. I’m sorry.”, Sana starts off very calm and collected but as soon as she says the first sentence she feels bad about it. Especially because Yousef doesn’t give an immediate reaction, he just listens to her. 

Sana looks down at her hands, one being still in Yousef’s and starts pulling away a little bit but Yousef squeezes her hand lightly and says her name for her to look at him.

“Sana, it’s okay.”, he says and smiles at her. “Do you know why I wanted to talk to you about this? Because I knew you would give me your unfiltered opinion and you’re not invalidating what I told you. What you say makes complete sense.”

Sana reluctantly looks up but still feels guilty about what she said. Until Yousef continues.

“But the thing is, that feeling didn’t go away after I arrived back in Oslo. For the first time in forever I felt the need to go to Friday prayers and when something bad happened I started to think there might be a reason why that happened and actually found myself praying for it do get better.”, he tells her and a happy smile finds its way on Yousef’s face. Sana sees this and smiles too. Not only because Yousef is smiling but also because he seems genuinely happy with this development in his life.

They look into each other’s eyes while Yousef concludes: “And I totally understand what you mean. That was what I thought at first, too. But nothing changed when I came back.”

When the Hagia Sophia can change beliefs, maybe Yousef can too. 

Sana breaks out into a big grin and she excitedly says: “Yousef, I’m so happy that you’re happy!”

She can’t hold herself back and wraps her arms around him. He seems genuinely happy and what more can she want?

Yousef hugs her close and can’t wipe that big smile off his face. It feels good to have said it all out loud.

They part from the hug but stay close to each other. They keep looking into each other’s eyes in silence and for that moment that’s all either of them want.

“You know what?”, Yousef says, “Now that I’m finding my way back to my faith there is nothing standing between us anymore.”

Yousef expected Sana to be happy about this, to smile her dimple-y smile, but she doesn’t. She frowns. Yousef’s heart stops beating for a second.

Sana has her eyebrows furrowed and looks at Yousef as if she wants to figure something out by just observing his facial expressions.

“Yousef.”, she finally says sounding very serious. “I’m not happy for me that you reconnected with your faith. Or for us. I’m happy for you.”

Now she starts smiling again and Yousef’s heart bursts seeing her dimple-y smile again. 
“I’m happy for you because you seem to be so happy to have reconnected with your faith. I wouldn’t want you to change for my sake because that’s not how it works. And I know you wouldn’t want me to change for you. It doesn’t matter to me if you find your way back to Islam or not. As long as you are happy. I accepted that we had our differences in beliefs and that is fine, I was and still am ready to work for this to work anyway. And you’ve shown me more than once that you’re willing to do that, too.”

Sana’s heart is beating so fast that she fears that it’s going to burst out of her chest. She is not used to give speeches like this; it’s Yousef who usually gets emotional like this. But she needed to say that.

Yousef just grins at her, not believing how he managed to have Sana in his life like this. She is beautiful inside and out.

“Can I kiss you?”, he finds himself asking without being able to stop himself.

Sana’s eyes widen instantly and she looks at him surprised. Yousef closes his eyes and shakes his head. Can he do anything right?

“I didn’t mean like .. I meant.. because..”, he rambles on. He thinks he ruined the moment, especially after what Sana said. He points at his own cheek and says: “There.”

Sana starts laughing. She loves how serious they were in one moment and how funny the next one can be. Yousef is so embarrassed about what he blurted out that he can barely look at Sana. But when his gaze meets Sana’s, she looks him in the eyes and nods. 

He does a double take and raises his eyebrows in a questioning manner. Yousef doesn’t want to do anything she is not okay with. But Sana smile and bites her lip and nods once more. 

Yousef didn’t think this far. Actually, he didn’t think at all when he asked her that. They’ve hugged before, held hands but neither kissed the other on the cheek yet. 

Sana hopes that Yousef can’t hear how fast her heart beats and tries to play it cool. Yousef hopes Sana can’t hear the zoo playing in his stomach in this very moment.

When Sana turns her head a little Yousef leans closer, slowly, for her to be able to pull away if she feels like it. But she doesn’t move. 

She holds her breath and when his lips finally land on her cheek she instinctively closes her eyes to savor every second as best as she can. At the same time she can feel her face growing hotter and just hopes that Yousef doesn’t notice. But he couldn’t care less. 

When he leans back again, Sana turns to look at him. They both have stupidly big smiles on their faces and do nothing for the next moments but smile at each other. 

“Well, I’m really happy right now.”, Yousef says.

“Good, then I’m also happy.”


A/N: lmao i wrote something bc school has started and im inactive af and i dont want to lose my audience enjoy. also idk what to title this it’s so ??? drabblish 

Summary: dan sees a picture of phil he had no intention of seeing and it ruins his life in a positive way. also punk/pastel trope bc im dead inside. this isn’t meant to be a true testimony to my writing capabilities in case you realize how sloppy it is 

Words:  1722

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Wrong Place Wrong Time- The Aftermath (Epilogue 6- OT9)

Do not reuse, edit or copy and of my work(s). ©


Epilogue Chapter to conclude the WPWT Series, enjoy :)

No specific warnings for this epilogue series but I’ll keep the themes as they are just incase.

Themes=😖,🌟,💣,🎭 ,. (☠️- Harm towards characters, Strong language and Adult themes.)

Summary: Life after underground activities. (Conclusions.)

Click for WPWT(1)  Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7Part 8 Part 9Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16Part 17 Part 18 Part 19Part 20 Part 21 Part 22

Epilogues: Epilogue 1-BBH  Epilogue 2-KJD Epilogue 3- ZYX Epilogue 4- KJI 
Epilogue 5-DKS  Epilogue 7- KJM  Epilogue 8-KMS  Final Epilogue  Alternative Epilogue- PCY

Word Count: 1,300 (ish)


2 years later:

To put it simply Chanyeol was living the life. He was financially covered and the best part about life now was that it was legit, his money was not dirty he had earned it all himself. Chanyeol was a ‘Hotel Tester’ and although some people laughed when he had told them his occupation they had no idea of all the benefits it had. He got paid unnecessary amounts of money to test beds, foods and facilities in different hotels. All expenses covered, he was constantly going on holiday. His job was to vacation and in his opinion only a fool could laugh at him. If he wanted new shoes then he’d buy them, if he wanted the latest watch all he had to was make a quick and easy payment. Life was good being Park Chanyeol. He had seen a lot of the world in the space of two years and had visited nearly every continent. Today Africa, tomorrow South America, it was amazing.

However the reason that Chanyeol had taken that job in the first place was so that he could get out of the country and be away from the others it was the perfect excuse, he was constantly travelling and so that meant he didn’t have time to see anyone.
He didn’t have the time to see Y/N.

The truth was Chanyeol was still helplessly in love with his best friend and his heart ached at the thought of her and even thinking of seeing her. But he missed her so much too as a friend and he knew that if he wanted to fill that void then he would have to push his feelings aside and visit her once again. He needed to see her at least even if it was just to restore some happiness and peace in his life.
He tried dating around but it never worked since he always found himself comparing his current mistress with Y/N and he could never find the perfect match. He knew that comparisons would never get him anywhere but he couldn’t help himself, how was he supposed to just forget a woman that he had loved so long and seen grow?
The thought of how big her child must be made him sick. He felt bad because he was supposed to be delighted, but that was because he had always pictured her baby being his baby as well, not somebody else’s. She was his and she was taken away from right under his nose, if only he never took her to the club that night then God knows how far their relationship could have come. He sighed as he looked out of the plane window, he decided it was finally time to return and meet her, just to see her face. Just so he could breathe easy.

“Would you like any refreshments sir?”

He looked up and shook his head as he smiled politely.

“No I’m fine thank you.”

It was becoming boring and tiring pretending that he wasn’t hurting. Financially he was doing perfectly well, but emotionally…not so much.

“Y/N, why Minseok? Why not me?” He whispered, sounding like a broken record. He asked himself that every day as if he would actually receive an answer.
He considered being the bad guy and ending their marriage once or twice. Planting some knickers in Minseok’s car and hacking his phone with suggestive false texts so Y/N would assume he was a lying dirty cheat. But he couldn’t sink that low, because number one Y/N was still his friend, number two Minseok was like a brother and lastly it wasn’t fair to break up a family, that baby deserved to live with both parents and he didn’t want to be the cause of a broken home.

Hours later and Chanyeol finally landed, dragging his suitcase along looking through his shades that were resting on the bridge of his nose. He frowned when he looked ahead of him at two familiar faces.

Senior and Junmyeon?

He slipped behind a wall and stared until they were out of sight. Letting out a breath when they had finally disappeared.
He hadn’t seen any of the guys since Sehun’s death, he didn’t want to. Partly because he didn’t want to be questioned about his love life and partly because Sehun’s death would feel all too real, he was still in denial about the whole situation, he frequently tried to tell himself that Sehun was alive but just wanted to start afresh and so he had moved far away where he couldn’t contact anyone because he wanted to keep his skeletons in the closet. For the past two years that story seemed to be working for him, so that was what he would carry on believing.
He did really want to know how Kyungsoo was doing though he had always felt bad for him after the incident and he knew life got hard for him sometimes.

Exiting the airport, Chanyeol walked to the side of the road and hailed a taxi.

“Where to?” The driver asked.

He pulled up his phone and showed the driver his home address since he wasn’t even in the mood to speak. The car journey home was long and silent, but honestly he preferred life this way. 
People bothered Chanyeol so the less of them the better. He payed the driver and jumped out of the car, letting him keep the change.

Constantly vacating was fun, but sleeping in his own bed was fun too, he dropped down onto the mattress and lay still staring up at the ceiling. He remembered the first time he slept on a bed with Y/N. It was one night when his parents went halfway across the country to visit a sick family member however they ended up leaving the day after and since Chanyeol had locked himself out he had slept over at Y/N’s house.
For her the sleepover was completely platonic. But for him it wasn’t, not when the back of her body was pressed up on the front of his. That was the first time he noticed that he liked her as more than just a friend, he loved her in a respectful way, the way ones grandfather does their grandmother, but he also had lewd thoughts of things he wanted to do to her, things that were purely sinful and indulgent and that’s when he knew that this was not just a friendship, it was something much more.
To think that Minseok was doing all of those sinful things to her and making her body shudder for more passion and pleasure mad him livid. He squeezed his eyes tightly shut in an attempt to push the thought out of his mind. But it came back in tenfold because Chanyeol was an avid dreamer. He was vividly creating scenes of Minseok making love to her and getting her pregnant. Chanyeol jumped up from his bed. Screaming, he ran to the mirror ahead of him and smashed it with his fist.

“I thought you were over it Park Chanyeol, God damn it!” His chest heaved up and down as he stared at his bloody knuckles. “I need to see her, or call her at least.” He picked up his phone from the side table and squinted at the screen as he looked at the date.

“25th?” He mumbled to himself, it bugged him because he knew there was a significance to this date but he couldn’t quite put his finger on what it was. Chanyeol’s eyes widened in realisation when he finally remembered.

“Oh shit!”
He exited his room, grabbing his shoes and car keys and ran out of the house.

Good Enough

Originally posted by gotjhope

“Being with you never felt wrong. It’s the one thing I did right. You’re the one thing I did right.”

Summary: You and him were two complete opposites from each other… You were just the maid’s daughter, but him on the other hand was a celebrity… Girls practically threw themselves at him just to gain his attention… He could choose any girl… but he chose you..


Previous Parts:

Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 3 // Part 4 // Part 5 // Part 6 // Part 7 // Part 8 // Part 9 // Part 10 // Part 11 // Part 12 // Part 13 //

Part 14 is here~ 

More Parts:

Part 15 // Part 16 //

(Playlist for this part ) 



“I said I don’t want to talk about it!” I got up and at this point i was frustrated. I walked over to the door and just left out of the hotel room. If I can’t be in my own room without being questioned I might as well go to someone that will understand i need my space. Namjoon.

I walked over to his hotel room and knocked on the door. No longer than 30 seconds he opened the door and looked at me.

“Oh hey, what brings you here?” Namjoon asks leaning against the door and I just stared at him.

“Are you bu-” before I could finish my sentence I got interrupted not by Namjoon.. but by Y/N…

“Hey thanks ag-” Y/N stops speaking and looks directly at me..

What is she doing here?

Keep reading

“Mum says we’re extra.”  

Liam looks up and turns around to face Zayn who’s sat the kitchen table looking at his phone.

He snorts.

“She only learned what extra was when Safaa told her what it meant when everyone kept saying that on your pictures.”

“When did anyone ever say I was extra in my pictures?”  Zayn practically squeaks as he speaks.

“Maybe the time you had your baps out and squeezed ‘em together to make it look like you had pecs.”

As quick as a flash Zayn picks up an apple from the fruit bowl and throws it at Liam who only just manages to duck in time. 

“I’ve got proper good pecs, as you well know,” he pauses for a moment before he carries on, “And anyway Payno, I’m not the one who spent half an hour before he sent that pic to Adam wondering which angle looked best.”

“The angle without you flicking  V’s to distract me and coming up behind me blowing  on my neck is the answer there Zed.”

Zayn nods, and stands up, crossing the short distance to Liam, who opens his feet a bit further outwards, altering  his stance a little bit to let Zayn into the space,  to let him crowd into him a little bit.

“Still don’t see why you had to lock me out of the room though,” he pouts and then reaches his hand up to the beanie, pulling it off to reveal the hair that’s shorter now, ready for the heat and sunshine of LA, ready for the next chapter of their story. 

He smoothes his palm and then his fingertips of his other hand over Liam’s head, the hair that’s still there, and Liam’s eyes shut, and he leans into the touch, and Zayn can’t help the way his own heart lifts at it, the way they’re so comfortable, the way Liam’s always been like this. 

It doesn’t stop him teasing of course.

“Is this Liam Payne with his mask off then, rough, tough, spitting rhymes Liam Payne who takes no prisoners?”

Liam holds up a finger, the middle one, but he doesn’t shift away from Zayn’s touch, then his lips curve upwards at the corners and he’s smirking, and uh-oh.

“Listen, in some shit magazine Nic was reading when I was at theirs last week, there was an article about ‘ get you a man who does both’ and well, voila.”

Liam splays his hands out and then  gestures up and down his own body ending with a finger on his lips in mock innocence. 

Zayn shakes his head, and  gently swipes at Liam’s.

“They probably meant cooking  and cleaning, babe.” 

He turns away then, but a hand pulls him back, and there’s a voice in his ear.

“Oh no, they definitely didn’t mean that.” 

The breath that was warm on his ear, is then warm on his neck as its peppered with kisses and Zayn’s like Liam just before, like a content kitten or puppy except kittens or puppies probably don’t have the type of thoughts or reactions body wise like Zayn has now.

And he’s about to shift so that he can kiss Liam himself when without warning the touch is gone and Liam’s away from him and the other side of the kitchen. 

Zayn lets out a frustrated groan.

“What the fuck Li?”  He’s not even bothered that he’s practically whining. 

“Yeah, that first article I read definitely didn’t say cooking  and cleaning, but then I read mum’s magazines and well, let’s just say washing up was number 1.”

Liam turns round and starts to laugh as soon as he sees Zayn’s face.

“You see babe, that expression, that’s the one I can never quite master.”

“That’s cause it’s the, I’m so done with Liam Payne but fuck it, I’m in love with the little shit and tease, so I’m stuck with him expression, many have attempted it, few, well me and Paddy basically are the only ones who’ve mastered it.”

Zayn can tell Liam’s smiling even as he turns away and places a dish in the rack to dry. 

“Hard life you, now come over here and help me wash up, and who knows I may even let you wash and I’ll dry.”

“Whatever happened to the  get you a man who does both.” complains Zayn though he still walks over to where he stands next to Liam, picking up the tea towel and a plate an half-heartedly drying it.

They could bicker like this all day, but instead Liam flicks a soap sud in Zayn’s direction and dissolves into  giggles interspersed with hiccups as he’s almost bent over double now with amusement and barely manages to get out the words.

“The fairy liquid goes so well with your green hair though babe.” And then he’s off again laughing. 

This is Liam with his mask off.  

And Zayn wouldn’t have it any other way, as he leans forward, mutters. “You asked for it” then grabs the sponge, dunks it into the washing up bowl and  squeezes it over Liam’s head.

His mum’s right, they are extra.  And that’s okay. 


So whilst surfing Tumblr, I came across this little gem. Of course I find any theory regarding Pokemon to be interesting, but this one stuck out to me mainly because Necrozma has a severe case of Zygarde-ism (third legendary with BST lower than cover legendaries). This got me thinking… What if there’s more to Necrozma than we thought? Spoilers down below.

Picture belongs to possessedscholar.

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Personal Stylist

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word Count: 3,066 (because I don’t know how to control myself)

Warnings: Language, FLUFF, teeeeeensy bit of angst (like, if you squint)

Plot/Prompt: Bucky’s settling into the tower well enough, but his hair has become a little unruly.  The reader offers to help him cut it and realizes a little too late how close this will put her to the man she loves.

A/N: (I NEED TO LEARN HOW TO WRITE SUMMARIES???)  This is just something that popped into my head other day and I had to explore it. I had to include the gif at the end too, I mean just LOOK at it. Please let me know what y’all think, I’d love some feedback!  and If you’d like to be tagged in any of my future fics, let me know!

This doesn’t have a Beta, so if you see any typos or mistakes, feel free to let me know! (but be kind, please :)

Originally posted by marvel-dirtbag

For weeks now, the tower had been all abuzz with talk of how Bucky was beginning to settle in.  He had gotten his own quarters in the tower, had settled into a workout regimen every morning at 5 am sharp, he had unpacked completely and hell he even had his own cabinet in the kitchen full of mugs and food that was off limits to anyone else.

But there were many ways that he was having trouble settling in as well. Movie nights could be particularly trying, too many people piled into one room. He would come sometimes, bless him, despite his discomfort but most nights ended up with him high-tailing it out of there when it became too much. Working out in the gym could be particularly trying as well. Some days he could get through his whole routine without any problems. Others, his heart would beat just a little too fast and send his arm into panic mode. The last time that had happened, he had stormed back to his room after snapping a barbell in half.  He would never admit that it was only when you were there that he found it so damn hard to focus.

He was warm enough with mostly everyone, obviously being the closest to Steve, but even with his best friend, he could be closed off when the pain was bad enough. Bucky and Sam seemed to get on well enough, Sam being the one who spoke the most in the relationship.  He would crack jokes and pester the ever living shit out of his new friend, but you could occasionally catch the brunette smiling under his long locks.  Natasha mostly kept her distance, afraid that this early on in his recovery that she would only make things worse with the memories of how they knew each other in another life.  Clint, of course, stayed by her side so he wasn’t around him much either. It seemed that Bucky liked you well enough, neither going out of his way to being overly kind or overly antagonistic towards you.  He was just there, sometimes seeming like he wanted to blend into the background.  And, god help you, all you wanted was to hold him and tell him everything would be ok and that you cared.

The only presence that was anything close to unwelcome for the man out of time was Tony Stark.

After their encounter in Siberia and the discovery of the Starks’ true fate, their friendship was nothing short of strained.  They each stayed in their own lane so to speak, and didn’t go out of their way to cause any trouble for the other - but you could tell the tension was there.  Hell, how could you not?  The air all but changed when the two were in a room together and almost it made you want to get out as fast as you could.


Something else that had become very apparent to you in the several weeks since he moved in, was that you were hopelessly infatuated with James Buchanan Barnes.  Everything about him had bewitched you and you were completely and utterly helpless when Bucky was involved.  You were enamored with the way he walked, with the interesting way he spoke - a unique blend of modern and 40’s lingo.  You found it beyond endearing how a man of his stature could seem so powerful in one moment, then completely puppy like the next, and how your heart would skip a beat when his signature boyish smirk would grace his beautiful features.  You were at his mercy, and you wanted to be by him at all times.

But that just wasn’t realistic.

Steve was Bucky’s safety net, not you.  All you could do was offer a helping hand and wait off to the side, giving the object of your affection all the space he needed to heal.  And heal he did!  Aside from a few select incidents - being the movie nights and gym accidents - Bucky had made remarkable progress.

There was one subject, however, that seemed to particularly get under Bucky’s skin.

“So when are you going to cut that mane of yours?”  You didn’t bother looking up as you rolled your eyes at Tony’s question, knowing he damn well knew this was not something to just shove in Bucky’s face.

Sure, Bucky’s hair had grown a little unruly - well, ok more than a little - but it was an incredibly sensitive subject for him.  Some days he couldn’t even bring himself to brush it, let alone cut it.  It had grown so long that it reached beyond his collar bones and could now be tied into a full-fledged ponytail.  It was obvious that his hair was a great source of stress for him, that you could tell from the split ends and the knots.  When the memories of Hydra reared their ugly head, Bucky’s hand immediately shot up to pull at his impossibly long locks before yanking painfully.  He would tear at the offending locks as if the disheveled mop reminded him too much of the weapon he had become rather than the man he had been before. Casting your eyes to the man in question, you found him across from you, his jaw clenched and mug gripped tightly in his right hand.

“Tony, seriously?”  Steve snapped from where he sat beside his best friend.

“What?  It’s an honest question.”

“I like it long,”  Bucky mumbled into his coffee, not bothering to look at the pestering genius.  Even you could tell that wasn’t the whole truth.  Tony didn’t seem satisfied with his answer.

“You know, I could set you up with my stylist.  She does a magnificent job, can even trim up your scruff for you too.  And she isn’t bad on the eyes, either, soldier.”  You would be lying if you said your jaw didn’t clench at Tony’s bait, your fingers damn near breaking your glass.

“No.  I don’t want any high profile stylist messing with my hair.”  You could almost hear the I don’t want the attention that was no doubt on the tip of his tongue as he glared at Stark.

“I could take you to my barber, Buck.  He only uses shears and a straight razor.  And his shop is straight out of old Brooklyn.  It’s just like the shops we used to go to, sometimes I feel like I’m back hom-back in the 40’s again.”  Steve offered with a smile.  Bucky relaxed visibly at the offer, but not enough.

“Look, man, I appreciate it but…This isn’t the forties anymore,”  He sighed as he ran his metal fingers through his greasy locks, the joints snagging some of the knots making him hiss.  “Besides, I…I don’t want to hurt anyone.”


Oh, this poor, beautiful soul.  You had noticed how he tensed at the mention of a straight blade, but you hadn’t realized why.  Even when talking about his own comfort - he didn’t want to take that chance that he could put anyone in danger.

And just when you thought his heart couldn’t get any more beautiful.

“I could do it.”  Had you said that aloud?

“What?”  And just like that, you were looking at three confused pairs of eyes.

“I, uh, I could help.  I’ve cut hair before.  Used to do my mom’s and sister’s hair all the time.  You wouldn’t even have to leave the tower.”  God Y/N, shut up!  He obviously doesn’t want to be bothered, just stop -

“Could you really?”  Two endless blue eyes stared back at you, a small smile lighting up that handsome face that made your heart shutter so.

“Yeah, if you want.”  You were merely rewarded with a nod and a smile that reached all the way to his eyes.  A smile that made him look 5 years younger. A smile that made his eyes crinkle in that way that you had only seen from the pictures Steve had shown you of a Bucky so long ago.

“Last time I try being nice.” Tony sniffled as he left the room in a huff, earning chuckles from the three of you that remained.

By the time you had gathered everything to do Bucky’s hair, you were shaking. What the hell had you gotten yourself into? All you wanted to do was help the man you loved but now all you could think of was how close you would be to him.

You had sent him to shower and wash his hair, giving you time to grab everything you needed and to calm your nerves.  Plus, you knew that if you had to wash Bucky’s hair before cutting it you would’ve passed out.  Cutting his hair was one thing, but washing it - could you be trusted to do something so intimate with him without imploding?

Was it just you, or was he taking forever?  Had he changed his mind?  Maybe he had run off to Tony’s stylist, the promise of eye candy worth of a Stark more enticing than your measly offer?  Maybe he would never talk to you again!

A sudden loud knock echoed through the room, breaking you from your thoughts. Steeling yourself for what was to come, you made your way over to the door. And there he was. Bucky Barnes, filling out your entire doorway with his shy eyes cast down at his feet, and in his hands….was a box from your favorite pizza place.

“I uh…I thought I would bring…uh, heh. It’s your favorite.”  He stuttered as he stepped in, shoving the pizza into your hands before rubbing awkwardly at the back of his neck.  You had no idea he even knew your favorite restaurant, let alone your favorite pizza.  But he had gotten it right!  Right down to the most obscure toppings!

“Not that I don’t appreciate it, but what-”

“It’s my way of saying thanks.” He interrupted, fingers tugging at his outrageously long locks.

“You really don’t have to do that.” You offered with a smile as you set the box down on your coffee table.

“Well, neither do you.” He damn near whispered as you lead him over to the stool you had swiped from the kitchen. “I could always just -”

“Go see Steve’s barber? Or Tony’s girl?” You chuckled, ignoring the jealousy that crept its way into your heart. “This isn’t about anyone else, Buck. It’s whatever you’re comfortable with. And if that means having a friend cut your hair, then I’m more than happy to fit the bill.”

You were gifted with a warm smile as you gently tugged at Bucky’s shirt, encouraging him to remove it lest the hair get caught all in it.  Silently, he pulled it over his head and - oh sweet lord that was a lot of man.  You tried not to stare, you really did.  But, how could you not when all that skin was on display for you?!  If it weren’t for the sobering thought that this was, in fact, your friend, your friend in need no less, you never would’ve taken your eyes off of him.

“So how short do you want it?” You asked quietly as you turned your attention to running your fingers through his wet locks. You were so caught up in the feeling that you missed the way he sighed and leaned into your touch.  Without a word, Bucky raised his hand to gesture to his chin, indicating his desired length. You nodded as you reached for your shears, putting a gentle hand on his right shoulder. “Are you sure you don’t want it any shorter? You know, you don’t want to go back to the hair you had before?”

“Honestly Y/N, that Bucky is gone.  I don’t want to keep pretending to be him, especially with what it would do to Steve.  Besides…I’ve gotten used to longer hair.”  He gave a sad smile as he ran his thick fingers through his hair, leaning back when you advanced.


You could hear him gulp at your question and almost stopped out of fright. Was this ok? Was he having second thoughts? But then he gave a weak smile and a quiet chuckle.

“Please, make me look somewhat human again.” He joked, deep blue eyes finding yours.

“You’ve got it, Buck.”

It was deathly silent as you made the first cut, the snip echoing loud and clear. Bucky immediately tensed under your hand as he watched the hair flutter down to land on his knees.

“You ok?”

“Yeah, just…I can’t remember that last time I had a haircut.” He mumbled as he stared at the hair laying in his lap.

“Do you want me to stop?”

“Please don’t.”

The silence pursued as you cut away, trimming off the dead ends and ridding Bucky of about three inches. As you finished, you abandoned your scissors off to the side before handing him a hand mirror and doing your best to fluff his hair. Little remnants of snipped hair fell from his locks as it settled into place with the help of your fingers and you could see Bucky’s face lift in the mirror.  You were incredibly proud of your work as you examined him, his once semi-matted hair laying calmly, falling just so around his face.  The split ends were gone, and the clean cut gave a new life to Bucky’s hair, and it even lightened your brooding soldier a bit.  And when a blinding smile erupted onto his face, you fell in love all over again.

“Do you like it?” You pressed as you walked out in front of him. Your rambling persisted as you continued to pluck at his new do, shifting it so it would lay correctly on his head. “I think it looks good, not too short, but I don’t know. I hope it’s ok, I -”

Your words died in your throat as two strong arms circled your waist and pulled you into a tight hug.  You were sure Bucky could hear your heart beating wildly in your chest as his head pressed to your stomach, but if he could he didn’t seem to care.

“Thank you.”  He whispered, and if you didn’t know any better you could swear you heard tears in his voice.  You couldn’t find the words to respond, so you settled for wrapping your arms around him as well as he tugged you closer.  It was only when your legs gave out and you were forced to straddle Bucky’s lap that he pulled his head from you to look into your eyes.  “Really, thank you.  You have no idea what this means to me.”

Bucky couldn’t remember the last time anyone had touched his hair in a way that wasn’t meant to overpower him.  Countless fists had knotted in his hair before, yanking with a terrible force as The Winter Soldier would be driven to his knees or strapped into some damn machine.  But your fingers…your fingers had carded through his soft hair in a way that he couldn’t recall ever feeling.  You had brushed the knots from his wet hair as you revered the beauty of it, getting lost in the sheen and the way it had framed his face.  It hadn’t escaped him how you hummed as his locks drug between your fingers and it had sent full chills all the way up his spine.  

Now he had you here, legs on either side of his lap, your arms lazily draped over his shoulders as his hands loosely clasped at your hips.  And when he looked up into your eyes with his own deep gaze, everything within him shattered.  With blinding speed, he shot forward, his own fingers lacing in your hair as his chapped lips pressed against yours.  An excited squeal forced its way past your lips as you rocked with the shock of the kiss, not hesitating even a moment to melt into him.  Immediately, your fingers sought out his hair, your nails scraping gently against his scalp.  The sensation shook Bucky to his very core, and when he sighed against your lips, you deepened the kiss.  Strong hands tightened around your hips and tugged you ever closer as you kissed each other until your lungs stung.

When you pulled away from each other, the first thing you noticed was how swollen Bucky’s lips were from kissing you.  Absentmindedly, you drew your lip between your teeth.  The soldier below you groaned at the sight before resting his forehead against yours.

“Man, I should’ve asked you to cut my hair ages ago.”  He huffed out, a small smirk painted across his perfect lips.  Your giggle caught you off guard as you swatted his left shoulder before laying your head against Bucky’s chest.

“And to think, you could’ve seen Tony’s girl instead.”

“Let Stark keep her.  I’ve got my own girl.”  He winked before dropping another kiss to you forehead and pulling you into another tight embrace.  It was that moment that you realized Bucky was still covered in hair, and incredibly, incredibly shirtless.

“Um, Buck?  You’re kind of covered in hair.”  Glancing down, the soldier pulled away just enough to get a good look at himself.

“Well then, how about I take another shower, then we can see about joining the others for movie night?”  Your heart nearly soared at the question and you resituated yourself so that you could really look at him.

“Bucky, are you sure?  You don’t have to, not if it makes you uncomfortable.”  You leveled as you placed your hand against his chest.  Well, that was a sensation you wouldn’t mind getting used to.

“And miss out on spending more time with you?  Y/N, you seriously underestimate how intoxicating you are.”

That night, Bucky made it farther through movie night than ever before.  He managed to make it through almost the whole movie, only needed to duck out 30 minutes before the end of the movie, but tonight was different.  Tonight, he had you.  And when you both returned to your room, you had a movie night of your own with popcorn, cuddles, and the pizza Bucky had gifted you.  One that ended in you drifting off in Bucky’s arms with his fingers running gently through your hair, and for the first time in a very long time, James Buchanan Barnes felt safe.  He felt like he was home.

Originally posted by imsebastianstans


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