yes she is seeing someone else

“Prom was invented just to make girls starve so they can fit in a dress and compete over a stupid title.”

“Uh –” Derek blinks, eyes his sister dubiously, “I’m not a girl?”

Cora huffs. “Whatever.”

In the kitchen Laura bursts out laughing. “Don’t worry.” She yells. “Cora is just jealous she will have to wait five years to go to her own prom.”

“I’m not going!” Cora yells back. “Prom is stupid, I don’t even know why you’re going,” she tells Derek, “it’s not like you know how to have fun.”

Derek raises an eyebrow while Laura just laughs harder. “Oh my god.” Their older sister says. “I stay away for six months and Cora turns into a sassy queen.” She walks into the living room, pretends to wipe at her eyes. “I’m so proud.”

“You two are ridiculous.” Derek says, turning around. “And I’m just going because Erica promised to pay me. With ice cream.” Then he gives Cora a wicked smile. “That I’m not going to share with either of you.”

“You are the worst brother!” Cora yells as he begins to climb the stairs. “And I hope you fall on your ass while trying to dance!”

“Can’t hear you!” Derek’s cell begins to ring. “Too busy getting ready to prom!”

Laura lets out a high-pitched laughter. “I love you two so much.”

Derek shakes his head fondly, closes his bedroom door behind himself just as Cora tells Laura to shut up. “Hey.” He answers the phone, collapsing on his bed. “What’s up?”

“Yo,” Stiles answers, “whatcha doing?”

“Listening to my sisters fight.” He says, snorting when he hears his dad start complaining about all the yelling and ‘no, Cora, I’m not letting you go to prom, you’re thirteen!’. “I’m gonna have to check the trunk of my car tomorrow night.”

Stiles laughs. “She’s not that good.”

“If you keep teaching her, she will be.” Derek blurts out, curses himself mentally when he realizes it came out harsher than he intended.

It’s just – sometimes he can’t help it. He’s known Stiles since they were four, Cora wasn’t even born then, but one day she turned eleven and Stiles became her new favorite person. Stiles couldn’t find it funnier and took Cora as his little apprentice. He even taught her how to cheat on Mario Kart.

He’s never taught Derek that.

Derek rolls his eyes, thinks about his little sister still downstairs pouting and trying to convince their dad that she’s old enough to go out. He shouldn’t be jealous of her, but the thing is – he grew up with two sisters, he knows how to share toys and food, but he doesn’t know how to share Stiles.

Because Stiles is his.

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aelin

The real problem people have with Aelin’s attitude throughout TOG (imho) is the fact that she owns what she is. She’s smart and strategic and carries a lot of burdens and is beautiful, and she never tries to diminish herself or act like she is less, in order to make other people feel better about themselves. And that’s what people don’t like to see.

We don’t want to see a pretty girl who knows she is pretty.

We don’t want to see a smart girl who knows she is smart.

Those things bother people. And honestly, why. Why do we want people to feel like shit about themselves. Or at the very least, why is it that others need to be the ones to validate us and say “why yes, indeed, you are actually smart, you may think that of yourself now”. That’s so effed.

In conclusion, anyone who would want to put someone else down (real or fictional) for recognizing their own strength and not minimizing it or downplaying it, can screw right off.

(And sure you can have other reasons for disliking her, whatever, but a character having confidence in themselves should not be a reason to dislike them. Especially when that can spill over into the real world and suddenly we are shaming real women for feeling good about themselves, for whatever reason.)

Queen Dice (Feat. CupDave & EggMug)

In honor of Harry’s big day, I wanted to share this cute Harry story with everyone. It’s kind of long, and I’m sorry if I bore you with the detail, but the detail is what makes it interesting, IMO - so I hope you read the whole thing. 

Back in 2014 , my boyfriend, Jesse, was working as a special events media coordinator for a very large and popular venue in London. This was a cool thing because he often would get to meet the talent. He’s met a bunch of different people along the way which of course included, One Direction. 

I had just met Jesse in the early part of 2014 so we weren’t dating yet when 1D was in town. I wasn’t a 1D fan either, so when he told me about it I didn’t really care. It was only after I saw Harry on SNL later that year (I think it was December) that I actually was fuming with envy that Jesse got to meet him.  

Before the 1D show, Jesse first spotted Harry from a distance. He was walking down the hallway and peeked in to one of the dressing rooms only to see a long-limbed “skinny kid” lying on the sofa, with a woman standing over him with her hand on his forehead, as if she were gauging his temperature. Jesse didn’t know who the woman was or who the kid was (he couldn’t see because his face was turned toward the back of the couch). Anyway, the woman spotted Jesse walking by and waived at him to hold up a minute because she wanted to talk to him. She walked out of the room and shut the door behind her so she could talk to Jess in the hallway. She introduced herself (yes, you probably already guessed it was Lou Teasedale) and explained that H wasn’t feeling well and wondered if there were any blankets around, but she asked that he keep the news to himself - rather than getting someone else to find the stuff and bring it to them. Jesse, of course, was happy to provide whatever was needed (because he’s like that) and he scurried off to get it (even though this really wasn’t his job, he was happy to help and he liked the “spy stuff” about keeping it quiet).. 

When he brought the juice and blanket back to the room, Harry’s eyes flew open and he smiled, Lou introduced Harry to Jesse, except when she said his name, Harry got it wrong and thought she said Jeffrey. Harry said,  “Hi Jeffrey, thanks”.  Jesse, of course, didn’t have the heart to correct him, so he just smiled and nodded and waived and told him he hoped he’d feel better before the show. Harry gave him a thumbs up and said “thanks, you too” (LOL) and Lou smiled and hugged Jesse and thanked him, then Jesse left the room.

He assumed this was the first and only interaction he’d have with Harry, but lo and behold, it wasn’t. 

About two hours later, a completely revived Harry was bouncing around in one of the media rooms where 1D was meeting some photographers and some fans for a meet and greet type of thing. He was clearly feeling much better and had a huge cup of coffee in his hand while he was smiling and laughing and talking. 

Anyway, being that he’s Harry, he spotted “Jeffrey” across the room and walked over to him, shook his hand and thanked him again. Jesse asked him how he was doing, and Harry said he was fine he’d been struggling with hay fever but he was feeling better after  his inhaler and an hour under a humidifier mask (not sure what that is, but…ok). 

Someone  else called to Jesse from across the room, and it was only then that Harry realized he had his name wrong, that he wasn’t “Jeffrey”, he was Jesse. So Harry was embarrassed and shook his hand again and RE-INTRODUCED himself to Jesse. LOL, So they chuckled about it for a little bit and Jesse said Harry was really sweet and polite and funny. They chatted about what Jesse had done before this job and they ended up talking about a motorcycle museum that Jesse used to work at and Harry was thrilled, so they chatted about that for a little bit. 

Then Harry finally went off to do his thing and Jesse never saw him again, but I always thought it was a neat story because it just reiterates what everyone always says about Harry. He’s sweet, funny, very down to earth and easy to talk to. Jesse was impressed with him (and he doesn’t impress easily), and their interaction has been something Jesse and I talk about once in a while. He likes to use it against me, because he’s an ass-hat, but our love of Harry Styles has become one of the many things Jesse and I have in common. He even knows I have a tumblr blog about him and he isn’t disturbed by it at all.

Anyway, that’s all I’ve got - thanks for reading. 

confession time, here’s what i got

Summary: In which Otabek and Yuri pine for each other a lot, and manage to drag other people into their own problems. (otayuri week day 1! prompt: confessions, otayuri, side pairings viktuuri and saramila, word count: 4095)


Otabek figures out that he loves Yuri when he is twenty-one.

It’s during Yuri’s nineteenth birthday, too. His plane lands exactly at midnight, and he’s rushing to get his baggage as quick as he can to meet his best friend. He sees him the moment he claims baggage – it isn’t hard to miss his long hair or his leopard jacket – and he stretches his arms out as Yuri bolts over to him.

In the next minute, he has him in his arms, and he hears a cheerful, “Beka!” in his ears, and, oh, he realizes. He is in love.

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Bleeding Out - An Alex/Reader Imagine

Originally posted by heavensentusharry

Requested by anon.

Summary: Alex doubts reader’s abilities as a female doctor….until he needs her more than he thinks.

Word Count: 1157

Warnings: Mentions of blood/gunshot wounds.

Disclaimer: This is my first ever Dunkirk fic and I’m still trying to get the diction of an English accent in here, so don’t shame my first attempt. I’m American as hell. Let me know what you think and keep sending requests.


The young doctor looked at the chart in her hand as she sped-walked down the hallway towards the room where she was needed. It’d been an unusually slow day in the medical bay, and the stitches she was about to give were the most serious issue they’d had all day.

She pushed aside the curtain and entered the room where a man lay, his eyebrow bandaged up.

“Alex Baker?” she asked the man, who glared at her.

“For tha last fuckin’ time, I need a doctor, not another nurse,” he said, looking irritated.

“I am a doctor,” Y/N answered, pushing a piece of her behind her ear. “Doctor L/N. You need some stitches.”

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Four Weddings

Part 1 of this really fluffy series that I’ve been trying to write for what feels like ten years. I hope you guys enjoy it! Please send some feedback and fill this out to be added to my tag list! 

Word Count: 6000+

Warnings: Language and cute stuff 

Originally posted by tom-hollcnd

Tom was an idiot, he was sure of it. The only reason he even decided to go to these stupid weddings were because Joanne was going to be there, she was going to be at each of the weddings, and of course, when he found out she was seeing someone else Tom just had to RSVP with, “Yes I will be attending, with one guest.”

Now it was three days before the first wedding, and he was just as single as ever. “How hard can it be to find a girl to go with me to a few weddings?” he remembered telling himself when he sent in his RSVP months ago and had since forgotten about it. That is until his old friend, Jerry, who was getting married, sent him a message. It read, hey man! Can’t wait to see you and your girl at the wedding, been too long. Tom knew he was royally fucked.

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anonymous asked:

sorry if you've already answered this question somewhere, but do you have any thoughts maybe on why black accepted kuron at the beginning of s4? I'm a diehard clone theory supporter, but that one bit still leaves me... stumped.

A few reasons. I know you probably mean the in-universe reason though, so to go over that first: it happens for mostly the same reason the lion swap happens. The new pilots aren’t the lions’ first choice, but you have to form Voltron somehow, so they’ll still try to make it work as best they can. Would Black prefer Shiro? Undoubtably. But in Shiro’s absence, she must have known the person Shiro was closest to, the person he trusted most and wanted to lead in his absence, the person he believed in–was Keith

She didn’t choose Keith because it was Keith. Not really. She chose him because of his love for Shiro. Keith’s desire to protect Shiro is what convinced her to let him pilot in the first place. Keith coming to her again in season 3 and trying to “talk to Shiro” through her is what prompted her to turn on again. When asked why the Lion chose him, Joaquim said, “[Keith] and Shiro have the closest relationship, so there is that kinship there.” And Lauren added, “And I think the Black Lion probably got from Shiro what Shiro saw in Keith.”  (source)

Keith’s motivation for piloting Black has always been for Shiro’s sake. He found some measure of comfort in Black Lion’s seat because it let him feel closer to Shiro. He speaks to himself in the Black Lion as if Shiro is right there beside him. The closest thing we ever see to something like this is Allura saying, “What would Lance do?” But even then, she makes a distinction between Lance and her Lion. She doesn’t directly talk to Lance as if he is Blue. “This one’s for you, Shiro.” For Keith, this is a coping mechanism. Another way his grief manifests. He’s still mourning. So as soon as “Shiro” comes back? He pulls away. Immediately gives up the Lion without a second though. “Keith, are you sure?” “I’m sure.” It was never about leading. It was about carrying on for Shiro and the team. 

So I don’t think Black wanted Kuron per say. She would have preferred Keith, which would have been honoring Shiro’s wishes. And at least, through Shiro’s memories and feelings, she knew without a doubt she could trust Keith. Because Shiro always did. Implicitly. But Keith was gone. She has very limited options here, and no, this isn’t Shiro. But he’s someone who still cares, who is genuinely a good person and wants to fight the good fight. Who’s learning to open up and trust Black even when he believes she sent him back to the galra’s hands in the first place. 

That’s incredibly brave and noble and trusting on his part. He’s not here saying, “I’m the rightful paladin! I have to lead!” or “Why did you betray me?” He says, “Please, people’s lives are at stake. You trusted me once. Trust me again.” And isn’t that what Shiro said about his bond with Black before? That it’s all about trust? And doing what’s right? When Shiro says “It’s about earning each other’s trust,” in the astral plane, Black’s eyes light up. When Kuron says, “Trust me again,” she powers on. That’s not a coincidence. 

Kuron might not be Shiro. But in that moment, she saw that same spark in him. Those same qualities of a black paladin. Of someone who was ready to open up and trust her wholeheartedly and wanted nothing more than to save lives and defend others. Yes, it does take more time. It’s something she has to consider. It’s something that feels off, and we can see that when she has trouble powering on. But Kuron’s heart and pleas are genuine, and right now, he’s the best she’s got. 

And you know what else? Visually speaking, the way those monitors flicker for a bit and go out and on again. It looks like a glitch. And given that the Lions tend to mirror the quintessence and mindset of their pilot, I can’t help but feel that’s their way of showing there’s also something wrong with Kuron. We’ve already seen his weird headaches, and this definitely brings that to mind. The galra have done something to him, that much is obvious. Whether you believe he’s a clone or they’ve tampered with his brain and this is some form of mind control, it’s clear this isn’t the same Shiro. The fact that Operation Kuron even exists proves it.

From a writing standpoint, if you’re going to explore Keith’s role as a leader without Shiro there as his support, it makes sense to show “Shiro” takeover without his right hand man. Makes for an interesting contrast. I think it’s also the first time Voltron’s ever played around with this idea of Allura and “Shiro”/Sven both piloting at the same time, which is kinda neat. Could also be about Shiro being a popular character and toy companies especially wanting to capitalize on that by putting “Shiro” back in the action quickly. 

Of course, I strongly believe that Kuron is still Baby Clone as well, and that Shiro is the true Black paladin. This is something that Keith has been saying all along, and it’s a part of why he eventually leaves–thinking the Black Lion will be restored to the hands of its rightful paladin. “Shiro’s the head.” “Stop talking like that. You’re gonna make it.”Didn’t you see how he sole the Black Lion right out from under Shiro? Or how he could do all that cool stuff with his bayard? Shiro’s bayard?” “Why are we even talking about this? Nothing is gonna happen to you.” “You mean your bayard.” “Shiro’s the Black Lion.” “I know this is what you wanted for me, Shiro. But I’m not you. I can’t lead them like you.” “You had a connection with the Black Lion and I know it’s still there.” “It was always meant to be yours.”

If there’s one person who never doubted Shiro’s ability to lead and his bond with his lion, it’s Keith. And even though things between him and Kuron have been getting tense, Keith ultimately believes leaving Voltron in his hands is for the best. Because that’s Shiro, right? And as soon as Keith finds out about Operation Kuron, I’m pretty sure we’ll see him try to take back the Black Lion and use her to find the real Shiro. But Baby Clone certainly doesn’t have any malicious intentions here (that he’s consciously aware of), and he’s trying to keep the team together and do what’s right. Right now, that will just have to be enough. But it’s very much temporary–and it’s clear Black herself is very aware something’s off. It’s why she tried to shut him out in the first place. 

“Do you hate him?”

That was the question she got the most.

“Yes. Maybe,” she replied. She paused, she thought about it for a second. “Not really, no. Not at all.”

“You have the right to hate him, you know?”

Her expression was calm, almost peaceful. Like the loud noise of the ocean after a huge storm. She said: “oh, I know that very well. Maybe if I could it would make it easier on me, but I don’t, I can’t.”

He asked full of curiosity then, “why?”

“You see, when someone makes you so happy, to the point where you see yourself with that person for the rest of your life and no one else, how is it fair to hate him? How can you do that? He brought so much joy to my life, so much more than I could ever expect, and…” She just stopped talking.

He waited for her to continue but she didn’t, so he asked. “And what?”

“I’ve never been one to be ungrateful. You see, you can hurt me, destroy me, leave me, cut me out of your life, but the good things will always stay with me. The good times, what we’ve been through together, that is part of the package that we call life. It’s not fair to just throw that away and try to forget. It’s not about him, it’s about me.”

He understood. He just watched her quietly moving from the couch to the window, she was just staring at the sky.


“You love with everything you have inside you, I see what it means now: it doesn’t leave space for hate, and especially not for him,” he concluded. “You really did love him.”

She kept looking at the sky outside the window in a sunny day on that late summer. After what seemed like hours, she softly said: “I did. I really did.”

I do, she thought.
I really do.

She hoped that wherever he was and whatever he was doing in his life, in that exact moment, that thought reached him and his heart ached for what it seemed no apparent reason to him. She hoped he knew, somehow, somewhere.

—  excerpt from a book I’ll never write #56
The Tattoo Artist

Pairing: Y/N/Soulmate!Calum

Rating: PG-All

Request: No

Words: 4.450+

Summary: In which everyone gets a name tattoo of their soulmate on their wrist when they turn eighteen but Y/N doesn’t believe in it and wants hers covered up by the male tattoo artists whose shop is right down the street

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Whipped...friends?? Or...

Whipped…friends?? (Part One)

Flashbacks*



Harry doesn’t bother going back to the living room to join the boys. In fact, he’s stood frozen in place for the past ten minutes, staring at the door Y/N’s walked out through with the excuse of being late for a date she had never once mentioned before. Harry didn’t even think she was dating, let alone actually seeing someone already.

It’s all come as a bit of a shock to him if he’s being honest. He likes to think they had something special going on, but maybe it was just all in his head. Or maybe he should’ve said something to her, proper admitted his feelings and all. But what if she didn’t like him back? Harry’s always been a sort of risk taker when it came to getting what he wanted. But he always thought risking their friendship was too much. If she liked him…that would be amazing. But…what if she didn’t.  

If he told her how he’s stayed awake more times than he can count thinking of her. How he’s watched her sleep next to him and wanted to kiss away the frown she gets when she’s having a bad dream. He wants to jokingly tell her how the boys tease him for being so whipped, and have her laugh because they both know it’s true. He wants to tell her that he loves that she gets along with Gemma and his mum. That they adore her because she’s everything they want for him. He wants to tell her she’s everything he wants for him. He just wants to explain to her, or at least try to because it’s very hard to find the words for it, how she makes him feel…whole. How he misses her when she’s not with him, and only falls harder when she is. 

So no, Harry doesn’t bother going back to the living room. Walks up the stairs of his home instead, body slumped and heart wrenching. He thinks he’s lucky that he’s made it down the hallway and to his bedroom with out breaking down. Managed to somehow drag his feet and supported his heavy body…heavy heart, through his bedroom doors and to the bed. He stares at it for a short minute, thinking about how he’s going to have to sleep on his own tonight. How he’s going to be denied of Y/N’s warmth. He’s not going to have anyone to wrap his arms around, to breathe their scent, to smile into their hair when he wakes up in the middle of the night reminded that he’s not alone. And he sits on the edge of his too big a bed, feet firm on the carpeted floor, the heels of his hands digging at his eyes because surely this is all a dream..a nightmare. Thinking about it, he doesn’t remember ever being this…this…gutted? Jealous? Empty? Broken? All of the above, and more.

***

Walking down the streets of anywhere hasn’t been much of a hassle for him since the band’s break. He’s able to walk through roads and into shops with no problem. The paps have been nice enough to keep a distance when taking photos, and he’s grateful for that. So in all honesty, now he’s only ever just a tad tense when Y/N’s with him. But it’s not a bad thing, no, he loves having someone to go around town with, rather just feels the need to protect her a bit more on their outings. 

So he keeps an arm around her shoulder, body tucked close to his, guiding her as they walk down the busy street, pulling her closer when he thinks someone passing by might bump into her. And she doesn’t complain. Tonight’s temperature’s dropped rather low, and the heat emitting from Harry’s body keeps her warmer than she thinks her own coat does. Y/N thinks it’s nice. Loves when Harry’s close to her. Loves the fact that his scent will linger on her clothes for days until she finally brings herself to put them in the washer.

They come to a stop by a hot dog cart, tummies grumbling because they hadn’t eaten anything since brunch, and even then Y/N hadn’t felt well enough to eat more than half of what was on her plate. So as per usual when that happened, Harry had to finish her meal, too, not that he had complained.

Now he’s standing in front of her, hands rubbing at her arms to heat her up as he offers to buy her a hotdog because “ye’ need t’ eat somethin’, kitten. Can’t have ye’ gettin’ sick, now.”

So she nods her head yes and tells him she’ll be waiting for him inside of the bakery they’re stood in front because “s'too cold outside. And I caught a whiff of the goodies! Gonna head in and get us a table.” Harry can’t help but smile down at her, and before he’s able to say anything, she leans up to whisper in his ear, “I know…you used to be a baker.” The sound of her giggle tickles at his ear, his smile only stretching more, and now he understands what the boys meant. He gives a light chuckle, kissing the top of her head before whispering a low, “I’ll jus’ be a minute.”

Y/N never needed to tell Harry how she liked her food, it’s fair to say they know each other well enough not to get the other’s order wrong. And as simple as that thought might be, it makes them both happier than the other will ever know to know that type of stuff. 

Harry never thought he’d feel such happiness looking at someone either. When his mum used to give him talks about girls and how important it is to treat them like princesses, Harry would wave the comments away. He was old enough to know that yes, his mother did raise him to be a proper gentleman. But he never thought, or at least not at the time because he was so young, that he’d have someone making him feel the way Y/N does. Only ever wished.

But now he’s looking at a beautiful woman standing in a bakery. Her eyes fixed on the displays because he knows she’s got a sweet tooth.

“Tell me wha’ ye’ wan’ and I’ll get it for ye’.”

Harry’s whispered words have Y/N turning around swiftly, smiling up at him because Harry’s never short on getting her anything and everything. Not that she ever asked for much. 

He thinks he’s got more money than he knows what to do with, so he’s always more than willing to get Y/N anything she pleased. But that’s the thing about her, she doesn’t ask for much. Give her cuddles and your time and she’s more than happy. That’s how Harry knows she’s meant for him. She’s simple, and Harry loves simple. Harry loves her. 

***

Harry can’t quite recall at around what time he’s been falling asleep at nights. After that first night, he only knows he’s been falling asleep to memories of Y/N.  

During the days he stares at the TV mindlessly, jumping at the sound of his phone in hopes it would be Y/N. And he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t disappointed to see it was Louis, or Niall, or Liam. On occasion his mum who by some reason or another knew what was going on. Don’t get him wrong, he loves talking to his mum, he just rather wishes it were Y/N.

“Harry, sweetheart-” and he could hear the hurt in her voice. That tone a mother gets when they know nothing they say or do can help a suffering child. “-don’ give up, baby. You fight for her, you hear me.” And Harry will pinch at his lower lip in an attempt to keep his voice steady before assuring his mother that “I won’t mum. I love her." 

The boys come around as often as they did before. And after asking why Y/N wasn’t around anymore, Harry told them. "She’s apparently datin’ some bloke. I’ve not heard from her. Won’t return m'calls.”

He’s tried to reach out to her plenty of times. He’s called, texted, stopped by her place, all to no avail. 

And Louis doesn’t remember seeing Harry this gutted over a girl. “Tha’s shit, mate. She spends every wakin’ moment with ye’ and somehow still meets someone? Reckon ye’ would’ve taken notice, ehh?" 

"Cheryl thinks there’s something else going on,” Liam adds, “says a woman knows when a friend has feelings for a guy. And she says Y/N never quiet looked at you as just a friend.”

Harry would much rather believe this than keep thinking about Y/N doing what she did with Harry with someone else. But he pushes the thought to the back of his mind, because if by any chance she did like him, she wouldn’t have left him.
And it’s awful knowing he doesn’t know when he’ll see her again. All he knows, is that he’s not giving up.

***

After sulking around for what feels like an eternity, Harry’s gathered up enough strength to pull himself out of where he was staying and into the busy city that is NYC. 

He’s arrived here only a few days ago for business, hasn’t even told Y/N seeing as she won’t answer his calls.

So he pushes thoughts of her to the back of his mind, or at least tries to. And thankfully, the fans he’s just recently met did a good job of distracting him. But only for a moment while he was interacting and taking photos with them.  

And it’s times like these that he doesn’t take for granted. He loves making his fans happy. Loves getting to thank them personally. And though he’s able to keep all thoughts focused on who he’s talking with, the second he walks away to get on with his night and readjusts the scarf she gifted him two Christmas’ ago, is the moment he feels his eyebrows knit in focus, recalling another memory.

***

If there’s ever any situation for Harry to be protective, it’s now. He doesn’t know how he’s ended up at the park near Y/N’s. Doesn’t remember if he walked or drove. All he knows is that he was lying about in his room when he got a call from her. And hearing her frantic voice going on about how she thought she was being followed had him running out the door before she could tell him where she was.

“Just please, Harry. Stay on the phone with me.” She was whispering and stuttering and her voice was shaky and Harry. Was. Scared. 

Like hell he was gonna just stay put.

So now here he is, phone still to his ear whispering words of comfort. “Where are ye’?” “S'okay, poppet, you’re g'na be okay.” “I promise.”

And then suddenly the worst thing that could happen. He’s got no idea what’s going on, but the rush has him forgetting he’s wearing nothing but sweats and a thin tee in below freezing weather.

He tucks his phone into his pocket.There’s no point, their phone call got cut and all he heard before it did was a man’s voice and her muffled one.

He’s running. Where to, he’s got no clue.

It’s not until he hears a cut scream that he knows exactly where she is. Now. He’s angry.

“Get the fook of a'her!" 

The guy doesn’t even get a chance to turn around and look at him before Harry’s big hands collide with the stranger’s back, gripping at his shirt and yanking him back and to the ground.

He looks at Y/N only for a second, still tucked into the corner the bloke had her in, eyes full of fright.

And honest Harry doesn’t train for these type of situations, but he must admit the boxing sessions are useful in this precise moment. All it took was a right hook to the guy’s face. That was enough to have him falling to the ground again, this time a mouth full of blood. And Harry knows. Y/N knows. He’s gonna have the outline of Harry’s rings imprinted on the side of his face for a while. 

Within seconds Harry’s attention was back on Y/N. Fingers ghosting over her face because he doesn’t know if she’s hurt. But she wraps her arms around his torso and clenches at the fabric of his shirt, face tucked into his neck. Harry exhales into her hair and wraps his arms around her shoulders, holding her against his body as he closes his eyes. 

"M'here. I’ll always be here.” He whispers. 

And Harry knows he can’t ever let this happen again. He won’t. 

But how can he protect her when she won’t let him? 

How can he, when the first time he sees her since that night is by the hand of someone else. 

And…what is she doing in New York?



Whipped…friends?? Or…not anymore??(Part Three)

The Bookstore

Hey guys! It’s me again, and I sorta wanted to write a Tom meet-cute because I daydream about those 25/8? This is just soft, fluffy and sweet, I hope you like it!
Author’s note: Tom is my screensaver and I went to Barnes and Noble today and the girl that was ringing me up was really, really nice and we were talking about Marvel because I was buying a comic, (I finally found Spider-Man Blue, three cheers for me!) and she was literally like, “oh my gosh, you and Tom would be super adorable together! I can just see it now!” And I sort of died? So this is just a story branching off of that?
The Bookstore
“Is that your boyfriend?” The saleslady asked, referencing the girl’s phone, as a smile that stretched from ear to ear crossed over her features. “He comes in quite often, has mostly good taste in books, although, sometimes his choices are questionable at best. Likes fantasy and adventure, some good, some not.”
The girl’s eyes widened and her mouth flopped open and shut like a guppy’s as she attempted to stutter out an appropriate response.
Tom Holland was the girl’s screensaver, and no, he most definitely wasn’t her boyfriend because he had no idea that she existed. Even if he had stumbled across her fan account, she’d just be another fan to Tom, maybe she’d even stand out for being an ultimate creep.
“He’s a very polite boy, you’re so lucky! My daughters are only interested in self-obsessed assholes.” The lady began to scan her choices, continuing to rant about her daughter’s apparent bad taste in men.
The girl was still struggling to comprehend her situation. The saleswoman clearly knew Tom, who apparently came in often, as did she, so she couldn’t really say that he wasn’t her boyfriend without looking like an utter and complete weirdo.
Pondering, she bit the inside of her cheek. Their paths had never crosses, so what could be the harm in indulging in a little fantasy? “We’ve been dating since last Spring,” She said, not daring to look into the kind eyes of the saleswoman.
“Ah, I see. I bet you two look absolutely adorable together, maybe turn him onto some high quality literature next time he comes in, eh?” The woman smiled from across the counter, waving the girl’s new Philip Roth books in the air before handing them over.
Reaching for her five purchases, the girl smiled and nodded, “I’ll do my very best!” She called and waved as she left the store.
Over the next few days, Tom wandered back into the bookstore. Navigating his way down the store’s narrow aisles, Tom searched for something that he could read on the plane that he’d inevitably be boarding sometime soon. He paused every so often to pick up a book, glance over the summary on the back, and reshelve it to it’s proper home.
After shuffling down another section, he came across the very same saleswoman who had helped the girl moonlighting as his girlfriend.
“How come you guys never come in together? She knows some good authors, I’m sure she’d love to help broaden your horizons.” The saleswoman said, maintaining her position, crouched over to straighten and tidy the shelves.
Tom looked around, unsure of who the woman was speaking to, because as far as he knew, none of his friends knew about this store. They opted for Barnes and Noble, while he prefered to dig.
“Yes, you. I just met your girlfriend and she’s lovely. Great taste in books.” The woman said again.
Scratching his head, Tom wasn’t exactly sure what to say, so he played along, not wanting to be rude. Surely she must be confusing him with someone else, because he didn’t have a girlfriend to share books with, as much as he’d like one.
“Yeah, we just have different schedules, she’s usually in class when I peruse the bookstore.” Tom said, bending down to help the woman on the floor.
“She’s very cute, and very sweet. It’s nice to see young people reading something that isn’t their twitter feed.” The woman said, taking one last glance at the fixed up shelf, before nodding decisively and standing up.
Tom stood as well, chuckling, “My Dad’s an author, so reading has always been apart of my life.”
“You guys are lovely, let me know if I can be of any help.” The woman began to walk away and Tom shook his head and laughed.
“How do you know that my girl is my girl? We never come in at the same time.” Tom asked suddenly, curiosity leaking into his bloodstream.
“She comes in more often than you, buys more books than you, and you’re her screensaver. It’s quite cute, actually.” The saleslady called out.
There it is, Tom thought, she might be a fan. He couldn’t think of any other reason that he’d be her screensaver. Shoving his hands into his pockets, Tom smirked and picked out not one, but two books. One to leave at the register for her the next time that he came in, and one for him to read while he was on the press tour.
“That is so thoughtful! She’ll love it!” The woman said from behind the cash register, clapping her hands together. “I’ll make sure that she gets it, alright? Wanna put a little message in it, promise I won’t peak! I’ve got a pen right here!” She chirped happily.
“Yeah, alright, I’ll actually do that. Could I please borrow your pen?” Tom asked.
Drawing a heart to conclude the note to his ‘girlfriend’ that he’d never met, he said thank you one to the lady one last time and left the store.
The very next morning, the girl pushed her wallet back into her purse at the bookstore’s register, waiting for the same saleswoman to finish ringing her up.
“Saw your boyfriend yesterday, left a little something for you.” The saleswoman smiled, turning around to sift through the books on display behind her to find Tom’s choice for the girl.
The girl felt the fiery licks of scarlet coloring her skin again. Her hands shook, surely Tom thought that she was a mega, ultra stalker. He’d probably left her a note begging her to kindly fuck off. She wished Mother Earth would swallow her up the same way it did to Sita in ‘The Ramayana.’
“Don’t be embarrassed, silly, it’s endearing.” The woman handed her a book titled, ‘Twenty Love Poems and a Song of Despair’ by Pablo Neruda. “He’s paid for it, of course, and he left you a little note on the first page. Lent him the pen myself.”
“He really shouldn’t have,” the girl stuttered, her hands almost noticeably shaking as she held the book within her palms.
Inside, Tom had scribbled out,
Seeing as you’re my girlfriend, I thought it was only fitting to leave you at least twenty love poems. Left you a song of despair as well, seeing as we haven’t met yet.
Love always,
Your devoted boyfriend, Tom

“Could I go back and pick one out for him as well?” The girl asked, feeling a tiny bit braver after reading Tom’s cheeky message for her.
“Of course! I love this, I wish more couples did things like this for each other, it’s endearing!” The saleswoman smiled, shutting the register.
After picking out an appropriate novel, she left the store, smiling, blushing and practically gliding on air.
Later that very afternoon, Tom was chased by the overbearing coldness of the afternoon breeze, and his own excitement over whether or not she’d received his present, back into the bookstore.
Not even bothering to look at anything, he came to a halt in front of the saleswoman, who upon seeing him enter, tore through her display to retrieve the novel that she’d left for him.
“Did she get it? Did she like it, I haven’t heard from her yet.” Tom asked, beaming at the woman.
“She loved it! She loved it so much, in fact, that she’s left one for you as well.” She handed him a novel called ‘One Day.’ “She’s left a love note for you as well!”
Tearing the book open, Tom came across her delicate handwriting sprawled in black ink.
Here’s to hoping that I meet you one day.
With all the love in my heart-
Your mystery girlfriend
Fighting the urge to hug the book closer to his chest, Tom made a choice.
“I’m going to go pick her a book out right now, and I’m going to wait right here until she comes back in. I want to give her this one in person.” Tom turned on his heel to search for the perfect book for to give her, when the saleswoman informed him that she’d already been in today.
“Alright then, I’ll be back first thing tomorrow.” Tom blushed, but continued on his way down through the shelves, desperate to find the perfect book for her.
Deciding on ‘You,’ by Caroline Kepnes, Tom paid and left the store, planning to return right when the bookstore opened.
The very next morning, Tom was perched in a cushy, plush chair, obscured by stacks and shelves housing novels, waiting for her. He’d positioned himself perfectly, ensuring that he could see the register at all times, but that the people at the register wouldn’t be able to spot him, unless they knew where he was hiding.
He was completely on edge. Every time the door opened, he’d practically leap to his feet, only to be met with disappointment because mostly everyone who wandered in off the street was either male, or too old to be his mystery girlfriend.
Finally, when Tom had all but lost hope, a girl so otherworldly beautiful that Tom truly debated in his mind whether or not the girl was even a girl, he briefly wondered if she was an ethereal fairy of sorts, floated into the room.
Her hair reflected light the same way that waves in the sea did, and her voice was so soft and warm that it sounded as he imagined his favorite hot drink would taste. She waved hello to the saleswoman before diving into the poetry section, hidden deep within the store.
Jumping to his feet, Tom rushed to finally meet her, rolling the book he planned to give her in between his palms.
Checking his hair one more time, Tom came to a stop next to her.
“Excuse me miss, I was just wondering if you happen to be my mystery girlfriend, who apparently has better taste in books than me?” Tom’s confidence was evaporating as she turned around to face him.
She was even prettier up close and Tom wanted to scratch his own eyes out for beginning the conversation with such a shit line.
Thankfully, she smiled, a strawberry jam colored blush widening across her delicate features. “That would be me, but unfortunately, you’ve caught me off guard and now I don’t have anything to give to you.” Her eyes refused to meet his own for more than a few seconds.
She could barely believe any of this. First, her celebrity crush and her happened to both shop at the same bookstore. Then, he goes along with the charade of being her boyfriend, and even leaves her gifts, and now, he was standing in front of her.
He looked like Prince Charming and her brain was turning to mush.
“Lucky for you, I don’t mind. But, I do have a book for you.” Holding the novel, ‘You,’ out to her, he began to sway from foot to foot, nervous that she’d hate it.
“Funny enough, that’s one of my favorite books,” She laughed, “But are you planning to kill me?” She referenced the plot of ‘You,’ which was more or less a horror story, hardly the conventional romance.
Stuttering, Tom attempted to clear his name. “I just thought it was fitting, seeing as we met in a bookstore, and so did Joe and Beck,” the main characters who become romantically involved in the novel, “And really, I just wanted you to have the line about the mouse in the house.”
“Are you going to get a cat to chase me out?” She teased, and Tom laughed.
“Absolutely not, you’re just all I’ve been thinking about. I wanna know you, and learn from your apparently epic choices in literature.” Tom said, leaning in closer to her.
“Than sit, and I’ll pick you something out?” She questioned, shyly moving to sit on the floor, her arm curled around more than a few options.
The pair scooched into one another one the floor, and the saleswoman watched, smiling from her spot at the register. Her two favorite customers were finally together.
Her eyes twinkled as she turned the radio onto a station that played only love songs.
They read love poems, and love stories together, so it only seemed fair that they listened to only love songs as well.

anonymous asked:

The RFA reacting to waking up with MC for thr first time? Not in a sex type of way but maybe they fell asleep on the couch or MC sat next to them till she fell asleep type of thing. Fluffy is nice :p

Fluffy is life! ^^ Hope you enjoy this!

RFA reacting to waking up with MC for the first time


Zen

  • He woke up with the morning breeze blowing in his face, was he so tired that he really dozed off on his rooftop?
  • He looks down and… you??? You and him with a blanket wrapped around you two???
  • Wants to scream and push you away before the beast comes out, but… you look so peaceful in your sleep, so comfortable… you shouldn’t be so comfortable around a man, all men are wolv… oh, shit! You’re hugging him and snuggling in his chest.
  • Now he remembers, you two went to gym together and then he invited you over to cool off after such an intense work out session
  • He feels disgusted at himself for leaning against you like that, he was probably all sweaty. Well, so were you, but your sweat smells like cinnamon to him, so he doesn’t mind.
  • You two went to his rooftop and talked a little drinking a beer. You seemed cold, so he grabbed a blanket, and next thing you know… you were cuddling like this…
  • Despite all his fear about losing control, he feels so glad, he would love to wake up with you all over him like this every morning, but probably somewhere more comfortable like his couch or… his bed…
  • NO! BAD THOUGHTS, ZEN! SNAP OUT OF IT!
  • “Zen… are you okay?” your sleepy voice and you half lidded eyes, this is too fucking much!  “You keep shaking, are you cold?” he feels really hot, actually…
  • “I-I’m fine, MC, don’t worry.” “Okay, so go back to sleep…” you nuzzle at him again. Oh well… you heard her, beast, go back to sleep…


Yoosung

  • He feels his neck a little wry, this pillow seems different… wait! It’s not a pillow, it’s… it’s… YOUR LAP!
  • There’s so much for him to feel flustered. You’re so close, he’s sleeping on your lap and you are IN PUBLIC!
  • Oh yeah… LOLOL is about to send a new expansion, so there he is camping in front of the store waiting to be one of the firsts to buy it.
  • How he managed to bring you along is a thing he’ll never know… but what’s more important right now is… the sweet smell of cherry emanating from your hair…and your legs are so comfortable…
  • Wait! What? No… the most important thing is… why did he drag you to this? And he should have offered his lap, or… at least, his shoulder for you to rest! You must be so uncomfortable! But you look ok… and so cute…
  • Are people in line looking at you? Oh no… this is so embarrassing… they must think you are a couple…
  • But would it be bad? People seeing you as a couple? He would never say it out loud, but he fantasized so much about doing couple’s things with you…
  • Cooking together, having meals together, waking up together… at the same bed… oh no no no! What was he thinking? This was so naughty, especially having you this close…
  • “Yoosung, are you feeling sick? You’re so red… maybe you have a fever?” he didn’t even notice you waking up. You put your hand on his forehead, could he get even redder? He looks at you all tense, your eyes are a little squinched because you didn’t wake up completely, so…  cute!
  • “Hum… you don’t feel that hot…, just rest a little more, okay?  I’ll wake you up when the store opens.” He hesitates a lot, but you’re so warm and he’s so tired… he awkwardly rests his head again on your lap and feel your fingers resting lazily on his hair, well, none of his fantasies went that far…


Jaehee

  • She wakes up when she feels your head leaning on her shoulder… oh… Zen can ever know you two slept during his movie.
  • WAIT! You’re sleeping on her? YOU are sleeping on HER?
  • She feels kinda honored that you think she’s comfortable enough for you to just lean on, but… why?
  • You two came to see this movie Zen has a cameo on, maybe you two got too tired of waiting for his scene? She would be offended if it was someone else, but since it is you… she understands, she felt asleep too, after all.
  • She wonders if people on the row behind you think you’re just a couple and you are snuggling in her because it’s romantic… she giggles at this thought because, well… it feels sort of… exciting?
  • Yes… it’s such a bright feeling… the idea of people seeing you as a couple, imagining you do these cute and cheesy couple things… she would like doing these cute and cheesy things with you…
  • If you did that while you’re watching one of Zen’s DVDs together, on her couch… oh! What would she do?
  •  “Jaehee… did I miss some funny part?” you whisper at her ear, and she shivers. “Hum… n-no, MC, why?” “Well, you’re grinning so much… did Zen appear yet?”
  • “No, not yet… you can sleep a little more if you want, I’ll wake you up, okay?” you just nod, close your eyes again and go back to her shoulder.
  • Yes, she is grinning again, but it has nothing to do with the movie.


Jumin

  • He wakes up at his couch feeling something on his lap, it seems a little heavier than Elizabeth the 3rd
  • Oh… oh… it’s your head, you are… resting your head at his lap, this is… weird? And… so… intimate? And… good?
  • At least you don’t have your face turned to his body and… oh, you roll over, he can feel your breathing through his shirt.
  • He invited you over to show you some ideas he had for a new cat project. People could judge him and he didn’t care, but your opinion on his cat projects is always fundamental.
  • You gave him great suggestions as usual, and you two could spend the whole night discussing it, but you  felt tired at some point and fell asleep on his shoulder.
  • He should have offered you a bedroom, but he was pretty tired himself… and you’re so warm and… look so comfortable.
  • He’s not sure about what moment of the night you fell on his lap, but… does it really matter? It’s so… amusing…
  • He feels so tempted to caress your hair, it looks so silky… and your peaceful sleepy face is so… mesmerizing, he could watch you sleep like this every night.
  • He would prefer doing this in bed, when he can look straight at you, laying beside you… easy there, Jumin…
  • It’s so weird knowing you trust him that much to let yourself be so vulnerable near him, usually people feel so intimidated by his presence, but not you… you just think he’s good enough for you to rest…
  • “Jumin, doesn’t your neck hurt?” your sleepy voice is like music to his ears “No, MC. Why do you ask?” “You’ve been keeping your head down, maybe you have a wryneck?”
  • “Don’t worry about me, MC. What about you? Aren’t you uncomfortable?” you  look around, grab a pillow and put on his lap. “I’m okay… sweet dreams, Jumin.” And you get back to sleep.
  • Well, he doesn’t need to sleep or dream, this is sweet enough for him.


Saeyoung

  • He wakes up because this pillow feels a little weird…it’s comfortable, but it’s different…
  • Oh, it’s not a pillow, it’s your chest… he blushes, did he drool a little? Gross… and kind of pervy?
  • He looks at you and sees you’re drooling a little too, ok, now he’s not that embarrassed.
  • Wants to take lots of pictures of you to spam the chatroom, but there’s something about you like this that makes him feel he should be the only one to ever see you so peaceful and vulnerable.
  • His legs hurt, keeping them curled up like this all night because there’s not much space on the backseat of his car it’s a little uncomfortable. Luckily enough, the upper half of his body enjoyed this warm and smooth pillow that is your body.
  • He invited you for a ride in one of his babies, unfortunately, there was a problem with the engine. He called a tow truck, but it was taking too long and you looked so tired… so you two moved to the backseat… maybe he was very tired himself too… who knows if the tow truck showed up after all?
  • He can hear your heartbeat, it’s so liberating and soothing at the same time, now it’s slow since you’re sleeping, but he can’t help thinking if he could ever make it race with his words or… with his touch? What is he thinking? No no no…
  • Most of your body is under him, but he would still like to touch you more, run his fingers through your hair, trace your jaw line… he keeps getting greedy with you…
  • He rarely sleeps this well, well, he rarely sleeps, and being able to relax like this just because you’re this close could only mean one thing, right?
  • “Saeyoung, don’t your legs hurt like this?” your sleepy eyes and messy hair are the cutest thing he’s ever seen, he swears. “Oh… a little, but it’s fine, MC.”
  • “No… here, let’s exchange so you can stretch your legs a little.” Now your legs are curled up and he’s being the pillow.
  • Well, now he can at least caress your hair, but he’s the one with the heart racing like crazy.


You can see Saeran and V here~

The Quickie

Rating: Explicit

Summary:
What happened after the fade to black.

gif by @caitbalfes

Read on Ao3


“Shhhh…” She said through a giggle. “Someone is going to hear us.”

“Let them.” He replied.

It had been more than a month since he’d been inside her. He didn’t care if the entire ship knew he was bedding her right now. He’d let them watch if he had to.

In the beginning of their relationship she’d been hesitant to make love in close-quarters, hidden only by their blankets or a thin tent, while dozens of men slept feet away. While on the road or during the war, the only options had been semi-public sex, or no sex. No sex wasn’t the choice then, and it wasn’t the choice now. Claire had quickly become accustomed to it, and several times he even noticed the intimate grip of her body tightening, and her slickness increasing when they heard footsteps or voices nearby.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

can you rate the rider class? i love your other ratings and 100% agreed w them so i wanna know how much we agree on

her writing is ALL OVER THE PLACE it’s like they can’t decide whether to actually give her a personality or just keep her easy waifu bait. whenever they go into the more interesting parts of her like the whole, yknow, bloodthirsty monster thing, it’s like it’s about a completely different character and it has no bearing on her characterisation outside that one scene. I literally can’t remember if fha fucked her over or she never had that much characterisation to begin with (just kidding, it’s probably both). 6/10 it’s not like it’s her fault but maybe I would actually care about her if the writing stopped disrespecting her

you’re a cool and charismatic dude and I loved your arc and the waver thing and the whole aggressive hedonism shtick and how your noble phantasm is literally the power of friendship but my ex couldnt shut the fuck up about how cool and manly you are and you just can’t escape branding like that my guy

SHAPED LIKE A FRIEND SHAPED LIKE A FRIEND SHAPED LIKE A FRIEND a good and noble paladin who saves people with no real chance of survival just because he felt like it, naturally, because he’s lost his reason you see! very cute. very optimistic. a very wide range of absolutely bullshit powerful noble phantasms! 8/10

I WAS A WIMP BEFORE INVULNERABILITY, NOW I’M A JERK AND EVERYONE LOVES ME a lot of people rightfully want to punch him in the face and set penthesilea loose on him and all that but he’s the “become a hero because you want to live faster and harder than humanly possible and cement yourself in public consciousness for centuries to come” type and that’s my BRAND. super impulsive and immediately regrets a lot of things he does but he’s still gonna do em because to him being a hero means being More™ so that means he’s going to laugh harder and fight harder and cry harder too. 10/10 they even compared him to cu in some material book and you can’t just target me like that

ONE WHO CIRCUMVENTS THE WORLD JUST TO SEE IF ITS POSSIBLE, ONE WHO GATHERS HEAPS OF GOLD JUST TO SCATTER IT TO THE WIND, ONE WHO HUNTS TREASURE NOT FOR THE TREASURE BUT FOR THE THRILL OF THE HUNT. I think about her “if you’re going to be a villain you have to be prepared to die a villain” monologue in extra every day out of all the servants in extra she probably had the biggest impact on me and that when she’s effectively the tutorial boss. queen elizabeth who saw her chance to escape the stiffness of court life and grabbed it with both hands and then spent every remaining living second making sure it was worthwhile. im problematic and haven’t played okeanos on NA yet but I am absolutely certain she’s just as good there 18/10

PAT THE HEAD PAT THE HEAD PAT THE HEAD PAT TH her bond ce goes hard as fucking hell “I want a sword that can decapitate a thousand people in one swing. why? well going one by one is a waste of time isn’t it?” god damn I love you 10/10

I’m sorry they made you like That

his bond ce tears me up every time hes a good dad 8/10

B E G O N E  T H O T

I rerolled for her on NA she’s a good girl I love her. one of her myroom lines is “do you have any bread?” and it’s such a small thing but i’m UPSET she genuinely loved france and its people with all her heart even as they executed her but she was just too sheltered to be able to do anything for them and she’s not about to let that happen again 10/10

I want to engage in heated fisticuffs with saint martha on a regular basis with our roughly equal win ratio only serving to fuel our intense but friendly rivalry and burning desire to determine once and for all which one of us is truly the stronger one, yet also making us dread the day we find the answer for it might put an end to these joyous days of endless battles with the best opponent both of us ever had

I’m sorry they made you like That too

BITCH!!! I LOVE YOU!!!!! unapologeticly horrible. a woman who sees what she wants and then takes it. a ruthless conquerer. a certified petty ho. the political climate of ye olde ireland was vicious and she started out as nothing but a relationship gift and then worked her way up to the absolute top with a ‘it’s used or be used’ mentality, determined to be the one who shamelessly uses everyone else and does whatever the hell she wants at all times. only ever loved for her power or money or body and desperate to find someone to love her unconditionally but absolutely refuses to become even remotely deserving of someone like that. the one thing she hates the most is people having no particular opinion of her because you can’t manipulate someone who just doesn’t care and she’s obsessed with cu not out of anything close to genuine love but because she just fucking hates his guts in DARING to disrespect her by not either throwing himself at her feet or wanting her dead. 100/10

THE COOLER KINTOKI 11/10

his hair down look gets me so fucking pissed. why would they do that? he looks so fucking baller with his hair up and then they make him look like a wet tulip in ¾ of his art? what does the world have against slicked hair? why does the anime industry still think hair down fanserivce is actually doing a service to slicked hair connoisseurs like me? its not like i’d be willing to put up with him otherwise. he sounds like he ate a bee. i’m not about to want to fuck a man who sounds like he ate a bee if he doesn’t even slick his hair back most of the time. he doesn’t ever shut up either. if you fuck this guy he’s not going to moan like a reasonable person he’s going to launch into a monologue with every thrust. this bee eating wet tulip is going to monologue about his dick during sex and they’re trying to sell me that as appealing. I don’t understand.

I want to engage in heated fisticuffs with quetzalcoatl on a regular basis with our roughly equal win ratio only serving to fuel our intense but friendly rivalry and burning desire to determine once and for all which one of us is truly the stronger one, yet also making us dread the day we find the answer for it might put an end to these joyous days of endless battles with the best opponent both of us ever had

fucking dumbass only has one sock

christmas is forever

bitch

My dashboard is awash with people screaming from the rooftops of their blogs that Cat Motherfucking Grant, Queen of All Media is no longer a role model to little girls because she’s the White House Press Secretary.
WHAT THE ETERNAL FUCK?
Do you have any idea what the WHPS is?
And I mean a real WHPS, not the puppet mouthpiece of the dysfunctional broken current administration. Those aren’t Press Secretaries, they’re tired single parents of an unruly toddler.
The real WHPS working for the Leader of the Free World, is on the ground floor of policymaking. She’s in the room where it happens. And when that policy is made, she shapes the message. How will that policy be communicated, to the public, to the media, to allies and enemies? She’s meeting world leaders and anticipating questions from an unpredictable media and deciding, from one minute to the next, who gets to know what. Cat Grant is the Voice of POTUS and you diminish her and talk her down like she’s taken some kind of demotion.
Yes, Cat Grant sold CatCo.
Because that’s what people with ambition do.
They build things, great things, incredible inspiring functioning things. And when the building is done and the thing is working perfectly, people with ambition step back, smile at what they have created, place someone competent in charge of keeping it intact and then people with ambition move on and build something new.
Cat Grant loves CatCo. It is her baby, her child in many ways. That child is grown, it can stand on its own. It still bears Cat’s name. It still carries her very important legacy. You heard Cat at the beginning of last season. She’s a shark who got too big for the waters she’s swimming in. She needs to dive. You think diving was living in a yurt in Bhutan? Cat Grant?? No. That was soul searching, not diving. It was important, but it was the pre-dive. WHPS? That’s. Diving.
You think White House Press Secretary is the end?
It’s the beginning.
Career politicians do not start out as career politicians. They start out as lawyers or doctors or journalists or actors or corporate moguls. But they have ambition, so they set those careers aside and learn how to make policy.
And Cat Grant is learning. From a woman she admired as a student, who is now President. Deep in the West Wing, Cat Grant is learning how to write law, how to negotiate with legislators, how to play the game. And Cat is a quick study. And she’s teaching an administration how to build and shape a message. How to speak to the public. How the media thinks and acts. Because nobody knows how to write and deliver a story like Cat Grant.
And when her time as Press Secretary is done, she’ll come back to National City, with an arsenal of political knowledge in her ambitious pocket and become the next Senator, or Congresswoman, then Majority Leader, or Speaker of the House. Imagine Cat Grant writing laws. Someone with her intelligence, social and economic awareness, care for people; she was born to be a lawmaker. And after that… well we all know what comes after that.
Mark my words. If this show is on the air as long as Arrow has been (and I expect it will be, despite fandom’s insistence on its demise) by the final season we’ll see President Cat Grant or I’ll eat my Supergirl mug.
And guess what? CatCo is still CatCo.
If Cat decides she’s had enough of Washington and she’d rather come home to raise her son and be a CEO, she can waltz into Lena Luthor’s office at the drop of a hat and buy her company back.
She’ll saunter in, gesture at her skyscraper out the window and declare decisively, “That is all mine again.”
And Lena will give her that sideways smile and say “Yes, Ms. Grant”
So miss me with your determination to cancel Cat Grant because she “works for someone else now.”
Cat Grant is the most powerful person in the world. She just doesn’t have the title yet.

I had a realization the other day that seems obvious in retrospect, but I hadn’t put these two things together before.

I was telling my mom that I’m kind of dreading having a private practice someday because it’ll mean working lots of late nights to accommodate my clients’ schedules and make enough money, and as I know from working 12-8 last year, that’ll wreck my social life. She was like, “So you’ll have a social life on the weekends.” And I’m like, and what, spend every weekday night alone in my apartment because it’s too late to go out and see people? She gave me this knowing look and was like, “Well, hopefully you won’t be *alone*…”

That’s when it hit me that this thing–this whole monogamous couple/nuclear family ideal thing–directly enables work to take over our entire lives. Because, yes, if I had someone living in my house–in my bedroom, even–who prioritizes me higher than anyone else in his (because, let’s face it, it would always be a he in this scenario) life, who doesn’t sleep with or date any other people, who treats his free time as our shared time, who drops plans with friends or family the moment I need him, who convincingly promises to never leave me–if I had someone like that, and if I believed in that fantasy, then yes, I’d be fine working late every night and coming home at 9. I could see my friends on weekends sometimes, but I wouldn’t *need* to because I’d never be lonely or bored.

Because however you look at it, cultivating and maintaining a group of friends and a broader social circle or community takes more effort–especially more *intentional* effort–than cultivating just one person with whom you share your life. When we have to work unreasonable hours just to get by, guess which one’s more likely to fall by the wayside?

No wonder it feels like my like-minded friends and I are constantly wading through waist-deep snowdrifts. It’s not set up to work the way we want it to. Yes, life would be easier if I had someone who is always a few yards (or less) away from me when we’re not at work and who can provide romance, friendship, emotional support, entertainment, household help, financial assistance, AND hot sex (and maybe eventually co-parenting) without me ever needing to seek out other people or even leave the house. But that’s…horrifying.

Whipped...friends?? Or...not anymore??

Had Harry known Y/N was gonna be in New York he would have picked her up at the airport. He would have given her no other choice but to finally confront him because surely she wouldn’t have wanted to walk in this cold weather.

And he should’ve taken that moment back at the restaurant. Pulled her away from that bloke and asked who the hell he was. He would’ve told her he misses her, that in all honesty he’s very confused because he doesn’t know what he did to have her acting like he doesn’t exist. He can’t understand how she’s able to cut him out of her life this easily. He would tell her it hurts that she’s managed to do so. He should’ve taken that moment at the restaurant, but he didn’t.

And what infuriates him the most, is that Gemma knew.

He’s been on the phone with her for the past fifteen minutes. Ten of those spent going on about having seen her out with some guy he’s never before seen in his life. Harry’s moaned and complained, because ‘maybe she really is seeing someone, Gem. Maybe ’ve really lost m'chance.’

It wasn’t until then that Gemma decided to come forth with this information, coyly telling Harry that 'Y/N came over a few days ago to borrow a duffle cause she left hers at yours or summat.’

And Harry doesn’t know why she didn’t pop by his place to pick it up. Not like she was gonna run into him.

“You’re meant t’ tell me these type of things. M'ye’ brother.”

Harry’s been practically burning his hotel room floor from so much pacing, trying to figure out why in green Earth Gemma didn’t see 'fit’ to tell Harry that Y/N had told her she would be flying to the big apple.

“She hasn’t called ye’?” And what kind of question is that? She knows Harry’s not spoken to her since she left in a hurry that night.

“I’ve not gotten a single text, Gem.”

On the other end of line it sounds like Gemma’s shuffling about, and Harry can only imagine she’s just sat up by the tone to her next words.

“She hasn’t?,” and she sounds genuinely appalled.

Harry stops dead on his tracks, eyebrows furrowing deeper in thought. Why does he feel like she’s hiding something from him.

He runs his fingers through his hair, pulling at the ends in frustration, “what’re ye not tellin’ me, Gemma?”

She’s quiet for about a minute, so Harry presses.

“Gem?”

“I thought she was going t’ see you, Haz.”

“Why would she? She’s not been answerin’ m'calls. Why would she go out of her way and come t’ New York t’ see me?”

Was she? Why wouldn’t she call him when she landed?

“Wait, how did she know I was here?”

Again, a slight pause.

“I might’ve told her a few ago when we went out t’ brunch.” Gemma sounded sheepish, knowing fully well there was no reason to tell Y/N of his whereabouts. Not when apparently she wanted nothing to do with him.

“She’d asked me how ye’ were. If ye’ were doin’ alright. So I told her. She didn’t say much about it. And then when she came over for the duffle, I just. I had t’ ask Harry.”

She sounds even more nervous now.

“Ask wha’?” This has Harry feeling uneasy.

“She’s your best friend for Christ’ sake.”

“What did ye’ ask her, Gemma?”

He feels like he has to sit down for this. And when he reaches the edge of the bed and sits, he doubles over, elbows on his knees. One hand holding his phone up to his ear, the other pinching at his bottom lip.

“I honestly can’t understand why she cut all contact with you. So I asked her why. And when she didn’t wanna talk about it, I insisted.”

But he feels like that’s not all they talked. “Wha’ did she say?”

“She broke down, Harry. She told me she couldn’t be friends with you knowing you loved someone else.”

“Wha’?”

Why would she think that? Most importantly, why would she stop talking to him all together because of that.

“Tha’s what I said. Told her you would’ve told me if you had. Also told her that was no reason to drop the friendship. And so she finally confessed her feelings for you to me.”

Harry can almost hear his heart rate pick up.

“She said as much as she loves you, she couldn’t stand seeing you with someone else.”

“She said she loves me.” He’s whispering it to himself. This is why she didn’t want to see him? How could she possibly think he could love anyone else but her. He thought he’d made it so obvious. “Gemma, tell me ye’ didn’t-.”

“Of course not,” she cuts him off, “-tha’s yours to tell her. Which you should have, you git. Shoulda told her a long time ago.”

“D'y'know where she’s staying?”

He’s gotten up from the bed so fast it makes his head woozy. He’s not even fully pulled his hoodie over his shoulders when he slips on his boots.

“Harry, it’s one in the morning where you are.”

But he doesn’t care. He doesn’t care that he’ll have to hail a cab so late at night instead of searching for the keys to his rental, because frankly he doesn’t remember where he’s left them and he can’t be bothered to spend any more time looking for them.

“Gemma tell me where she is.”

It doesn’t take long for Harry to get a cabbie’s attention, he is Harry Styles after all.

In the blur of it all, he’s somehow ended up with the boys hollering over the phone at him. Cheering him on and telling him to go get his girl.

“Honest, s'bout time it happened for the pair o'ya.” Next to Harry, he reckons Liam’s probably the most romantic out of the lot.

“Wha’ if she doesn’t want me? Wha’ if s'too late and she’s happy with tha’ other bloke?”

To the rest of the world, it would be insane for anyone to think Harry Styles has moments like these. Moments of doubt when he radiates confidence. But honestly he’s just like any other human being trying to find love and someone to give his own to.

“Who? Her cousin? That’d be weird,man,” Niall chimes nonchalantly.

He can hear what sounds like two slaps to the arm before hearing Niall grunts in dissatisfaction.

Has everyone been hiding these vital specs of information from him.

But he doesn’t even have to ask before Niall’s explaining.

“Okay, yeh I knew she was goin’ t’ New York.”

Of course. In retrospect, Harry should’ve know Niall might’ve known. Next to Harry, Niall’s the closest to Y/N. What with him going back and forth dealing with the film and the magazine a few months ago, Liam doing his solo project and preparing for his and Cheryl’s baby, and Louis in LA most than not for Freddie; Niall’s the only one who’s just so happened to not travel much during the hiatus. And he never really minded taking Y/N with him when he did have things to do.

“She tol’ me she needed t'see you. N’ I didn’t wanna spoil the surprise.”

“Well tha’s great, innit? Everyone knew but me? Anythin’ else any o'ye would like t'share?”

He doesn’t mean to sound frustrated, but he just..is. Had he known all of this, everything would have gotten resolved earlier, and he wouldn’t have had to sulk over Y/N being out with a cousin. He wouldn’t have had to watch her walk away and out of that restaurant, an awful feeling in his heart at she sight of her with someone else.

But it’s all done, and at least now he knows the way she’d look at him, like she was smitten, wasn’t all in his head.

“Quit your mopping, Harold and just tell her how much you miss her.”

After Harry had told the boys what’d happened and asked them not to hassle him about it, they’d let off the teasing, didn’t wanna strike a nerve and make Harry feel bad. He is the baby after all. Now, Harry can’t help but smile sheepishly at the sound of all three making kissy noises on the other end of the line.

With whole hearted 'good luck’s from the boys, Harry hangs up and his mind goes back to wondering what will happen after tonight.

The rest of the drive there his mind’s still trying to process the fact that Y/N told Gemma she loves him. His Y/N loves him.

And when he reaches her suite, he’s not sure if she’ll open the door. Or if she’s even gotten into bed yet.

But he knocks nonetheless, and when he hears light footsteps getting closer on the other side, the butterflies in his tummy go wild.

“Who is it?” Oh how he’s missed hearing that voice.

“Room service.” He can’t risk her not opening if he tells her it’s him.

The door slides open just a bit then, and he sees her peek through it before hearing her yawn.

“Please,” is the first thing his head can muster up, “don’ shut me out, poppet.”

Y/N doesn’t know what to say…what to feel. After not seeing Harry for so long, here he is, stood in front of her hotel room, palm on the door as if to prevent her from closing it.

And she’d be a liar if she said she didn’t miss him. Hearing him plead for her not to deny him entrance.

She’s lost in a trance, looking him over, his eyes tired and hair a mess. Pink lips pursed into a line against the pale of his skin. And his green eyes, burning into her with a sad look.

But she doesn’t say anything. Just steps back into the darkness of the room, allowing Harry to slip in and shut the door behind him.

“I miss ye, kitten.” He breathes in relief, finally able to tell her so she doesn’t think he doesn’t.

She sighs, her back facing him, “Harry, can we please do this tomorrow?”

Harry can’t deny that deflates him a bit. As much of a long shot as it was, he was really hoping she’d say she misses him too.

He strides over to her, but keeps his hands to himself even though he’s been dying to hug her again. There’s nothing else he can do with them but thumb at the rings to twist them around his fingers.

“No,” he whispers, determined. “M'not leaving until y'tell me wha’ I did wrong.” He wants to hear it from her lips.

She turns to look at him, towering above her. Too close, but too far. “You did nothing, Harry.”

“Then why’ve ye’ not been answerin’ m'calls?”

Silence.

“Or replyin’ t’m'texts?”

She’s fiddling with the hem of her shirt, unsure of what to say. Surely she can’t tell him she couldn’t stand the chuckles and secret whispers between him and the guys over Harry’s probably now girlfriend. She can’t tell him she’s stupidly fallen in love with her best friend and him denying her would break her. But the way he’s looking at her right now makes her wanna melt back into his arms.  

She needs to say something, anything to end this conversation before she explodes.

“Don’t know how to say this. But I started seeing someone, and I wanna dedicate more of my time to him.”

Harry can’t believe she’s really trying to feed him that excuse.

“Oh really? Does he live here? Is tha’ why you’re in New York? Wha’s his name?” He challenges.

She stutters for longer than she should.

“Surely you’ve not forgotten the name of this said bloke you’re seein’?”

Y/N can feel herself getting frustrated. Not because she’s choked up on a simple name, or because it doesn’t seem like Harry will be leaving any time soon. No, she’s frustrated at the fact that Harry knows her so well he’s able to see past it and know she’s lying.

But she tries anyway, “umm, his name’s, umm-”

“Bullshit!” He’s calling her out. He’s gonna make her say it even if he has to stay til well into the next day.

It catches Y/N just a bit off guard though. But it’s enough for her to reach her limit.

“I don’t have to give you any explanations Harry!” And Harry doesn’t recall ever hearing her raise her voice. Other than at the telly during intense scenes from a show or a film, or when she’s driving.

“I don’t have to tell you who I’m dating. You sure as hell don’t tell me!” She brings her index finger up to poke at his chest. “But that’s okay because you don’t owe me any explanations either. So don’t ask me why I’ve not been coming around because I can’t give you an answer. So I hope you’ll be happy with your new girlfriend and I hope you have a great life together-”

“There was never anyone.” He tries to cut in, failing to stop her ramble.

“-because I’m sure she’s perfect in every sense of the word because you’d blush every time Niall or Louis or Liam whispered to you about her-”

“Tha’ was you they were teasin’ 'bout.” Another failed attempt.

“-and you deserve that Harry, you do.  Don’t worry about me I’ll be fine an-”

She grabs at her wrists to stop the gestures.

“Y/N. I love you.”

“And I know y-.”

That’s shuts her right up. And Y/N was really never expecting that.

“You what?” Almost an inaudible whisper.

Harry takes her hand in his then, intertwining their fingers, staring at how hers fit perfectly into his.

He scans her eyes as he brings his hands to cup neck, thumbs running over her jaw. And he honestly cannot understand why she would think he doesn’t.

His thumb pads graze the bottom of her lip before repeating himself.

“I love you.”

It’s then that she brings her hands to his hips, clenching the grey material of his hoodie.

“Harry, I-”

“Jus’ say it, poppet. M'right here.”

“I love you, too.”

Harry can’t hold back anymore.

So he closes the space between them, lips ghosting over hers. And when Y/N puckers her lips to firmly press into his, he knows she means what she’s said.

With a smile and another kiss.

Harry whispers one last time.

“I love you, so much.”



A/N: Wanna take a moment and say thank you to every single one of my readers, whether you follow or not. Thank you for taking the time and reading this unexpected short trilogy. Thank you for being patient with me when I was feeling uneasy about that second part.

And thank you to the anon who requested this.

I hope whilst you all read that it felt at least a bit real, even the slightest to brighten up your day.

Much love, LouM xx

“You can never love someone too much,” she argued, crossing her arms defiantly.

“Yes you can,” he snapped, but upon seeing her hurt expression, sighed, and grudgingly began to explain.

“My mom adored my dad, still does to this day, but the bastard fell in love with someone else. I would watch her do the laundry as a kid and she would just sit and stare for hours at the red lipstick on the collars of his shirts, surrounded by the smell of cheap perfume she would never wear. When he got home, she acted as if nothing was wrong, as if she wasn’t sobbing just hours before. She pretended to believe that he was on business calls at three a.m. She pretended that he loved her, and when I asked why, all she said was that sometimes you have to sacrifice things for love, even your own sanity. After that, I was in a state of disbelief. It’s complete and utter madness, the fact that love can make you lose yourself.“

—  n.g. // excerpt from a book i’ll never write #15