#god i felt like drawing today but my stupid ass decided to read stuff i dumped on a random discord channel

[disposal-blueeee]

i saw this thing on twt like twice and i wanted to do the same to get myself to do something , lol

[oldguardhc]

Old Guard hc #36

Prompt number: 2 - “That’s the easy part?”

Fandom: The Old Guard

Rating: PG-13

Warnings/Tags: joe x nicky, fluff

“That’s the easy part?” Nicky asked, mug raised halfway to his lips. Maybe he heard wrong, he hadn’t even finished his fourth cup of coffee yet. Sleep was still threatening to drag him back into its warm embrace and if Nicky didn’t finish this cup soon, he was going to be flinging himself into those arms again.

God, he was so tired. It was 10 a.m. and he was awake.

Nile frowned, her eyebrows drawing in. “You just have to spend the whole day with Joe. Then you bring him back when I text you!” He definitely heard her correctly the first time then. Nicky rubbed a tired hand over his face. Nile made some hand-waving motions in front of him, “What? I thought you’d be glad to be with Joe!”

“I am happy that I will spend the day with Joe,” Nicky responded and took a sip from his mug. The coffee was getting cold, edging towards lukewarm rather than hot. Nicky quickly finished the rest before it became unpalatable and licked his lips before continuing. “The only problem is Joe will know something is up.”

Nile grabbed the coffee pot and topped his mug with fresh, hot, delicious coffee before placing it back in the coffee machine. He hummed in gratitude, cradling the warm mug in his hands. “How could he possibly know something is up? There is nothing significant about this day as far as Joe is concerned.”

Nicky lifted his chin in concession. “That may be, but my Joe is not stupid. He’ll quickly catch on that I’m trying to stall him.”

“You’re telling me that you can’t act normal for one day?” Nicky raised an eyebrow and Nile huffed. “You know what I mean.” He did know what she meant. That didn’t make teasing her any less fun.

“We’ve been together for over 900 years, Nile. That man could probably tell you how many strands of hair I have on my head. He definitely knows when I’m purposely distracting someone.” This was putting aside the fact that half the tricks Nicky used all came from Joe. Joe had a gift for interacting and understanding people. It was something that used to infuriate Nicky. Here was this man who Nicky barely tolerated but made everyone he met practically fawn all over themselves for him.

“Come on, Nicky. Take him to the movies, a museum, the mall. Hell, have a quickie in the parking lot! Just distract him for a couple hours.” There was a desperate gleam in Nile’s eyes and Nicky sighed, hating himself just a tiny bit for being such a sucker. She definitely learned how to do that face from Joe.

Nicky took several gulps from his mug just to be an ass and make her believe that he was still pondering her request. He couldn’t let her think that he was that easily persuaded. At least, not yet. She’ll have plenty of time to learn just how easy he was for the people he loved. “Fine.” Nile let out a victorious crow, clapping her hands together and bouncing on her toes. “Yeah, yeah,” Nicky grumbled, noisily slurping his coffee.

“Alright, get your man out of the house. I’ll text you when to come back!”

Nicky protested as he was pushed out of the kitchen and into the hallway, slumping as he came face to face with his closed bedroom door where his other half remained sound asleep. Releasing a deep sigh, Nicky scratched the back of his head to buy himself a couple more seconds. He really didn’t know how he was going to keep Joe out of the house. It would’ve been so much easier if he had to keep Joe in, he thought wistfully.

Fearing that Nile would come and check in on him any second now, Nicky opened the door. As expected, Joe was still asleep, half covered by the down-comforter, head resting on two pillows, one arm hugging Pedro to his chest. Even 900 years later, Nicky stood in the doorway, frozen and completely helpless to the way his heart started to flutter with the amount of affection he held for this man.

It didn’t take long for Joe’s instincts to kick in. Sensing another presence, Joe stretched out on the bed, slow to blink the sleep out of his eyes. “Nicolò?” His voice was sleep-warm, slightly raspy and elongated vowels. It was music to Nicky’s ears. Nicky placed his mug on the nightstand and crawled into bed next to Joe. Still, Joe shuffled in closer until the only thing between them was Pedro. “What time is it?”

“10,” Nicky answered and Joe groaned, burying his face into the crook of Nicky’s neck. Nicky didn’t think they would have lasted as long as they did if one of them was an early riser. He brought a hand up to bury in the tight curls, using his fingernails to gently scratch at Joe’s scalp.

“Want to go get that new set of oil pastels today?” Nicky asked after several minutes of peace. Joe shook his head. “We can’t stay in here the whole day.” Joe let out a confused whine. “Because-because it’s rude to stay in bed all day. We have to at least last another year before Nile figures us out.” Joe didn’t move for a couple beats. Nicky was starting to feel the beginnings of a cold sweat when Joe finally sighed, nuzzling into his neck a little more before rolling away with a grumble.

Nicky had to resist the urge to close his eyes and sigh. So far, so good.

—

Okay, so maybe he was too optimistic. It took Joe 30 minutes for him to realize that something was up. Nicky had to beg him to play along, promising the new oil pastels and himself as a live model for the whole afternoon. It was an amazing deal and Joe knew it. The only time Nicky was still was in his sleep, on a mission and when reading a book. Having a whole afternoon to draw Nicky in whatever position and scenery? Truly a once in a lifetime offer.

By the time Nicky got the okay from Nile, he was beyond exhausted. Sitting in one position and being admired was hard work. But a deal was a deal and so Nicky had remained in whatever position Joe had arranged him in without a protest, sinking into that headspace he only ever used during missions.

“This surprise must be really good for you to have modeled the whole day,” Joe said, tangling their fingers over the center console. Nicky squeezed his hand, not taking his eyes off the blurred trees outside. They were almost home. He could keep the secret for a little longer. He just had to keep his mouth shut and it would still be a surprise. Sort of. Did it count as a surprise if the person knew that there was a surprise but didn’t know what the surprise was? Nicky decided that yes, it was still a surprise. The actual surprise was still unknown even if the entire event wasn’t.

“I hope you realize how nice I was today. I could’ve made you spill before we even got to the art supply store.” That was a bait. It was a bait. Nicky was confident that there were even studies about this kind of bait. Even with that knowledge, Nicky had to bite his tongue to remain silent, focusing on the sharp pain. “Fine, keep quiet. Don’t think there won’t be payback for keeping me in the dark.” It was a weak threat since Joe brought their joined hands to his lips not a second later.

It took 15 minutes to get home. It was the longest 15 minutes of Nicky’s life. He swore that entire generations lived and died in those 15 minutes. He had endured torture that felt shorter than those 15 minutes.

As soon as the car was put in park, Nicky hopped out of the car and ran to the other side to open the door for Joe. “Come,” Nicky said, extending his hand.

“Now you want me to pay attention to you,” Joe teased but took his hand with a fond smile. With Joe’s hand in a tight grip, Nicky led him inside the house and into the dark living room.

“Uhh, I’m a little confused-“ Joe started.

The lights flicked on.

“SURPRISE!” Nile yelled, followed by Andy and Booker’s weaker attempt. Nicky wouldn’t be surprised if they had spent the whole day practicing and this was their best one yet.

Joe frowned and turned to Nicky, looking utterly adorable with that little furrow and pout. “I’m still confused.”

It was Nicky’s turn to smile and bring their joined hands to his lips. “This was Nile’s idea,” he said, as if that explained everything.

Nile clapped her hands together, drawing their attention back to her. “Remember when we were talking about birthdays?” Joe slowly nodded. “Right! Well, you said you never had a birthday party. So…” She motioned to the balloons taped to every piece of furniture in the living room, the dozens of party streamers, the platters of food on the dining room table.

“It’s not my birthday,” Joe said, still confused.

“Do you even know your birthday?” Nile asked and Joe slowly shook his head. “Exactly. So there’s a .003% chance that today is your birthday and we are celebrating! We got presents, cake, balloons and your favorite foods!”

Joe opened and closed his mouth several times as he took everything in, rendered completely speechless for the first time in what had to be decades. Nicky squeezed his hand, a silent are you okay? It took a moment for Joe to respond yes, a watery smile tugging on his lips. “Thank you, Nile.” Joe sniffed and swallowed the lump that had swelled in his throat. “This is amazing.”  

Nile beamed, looking like sunshine personified. “You’re welcome,” she said. “Everyone deserves to have a birthday party.”

Joe turned to the other two occupants in the room. They were definitely a little tipsy already and Nicky couldn’t blame them. He probably would’ve drank too if he had to tie as many balloons as they did. It was going to take forever to clean all of this party stuff up. “Thank you to you two as well. I know Nile probably bullied you two into helping,” Joe said and Nile let out an indignant, “Hey!”. Both Andy and Booker rolled their eyes in tandem, reluctant smiles gracing their faces and really? They were able to get that down but not the surprise?

“We love you too,” Booker said, pulling out a flask from the inside of his jacket pocket. He took a sip and passed it to Andy.

Andy pointed to Booker with the flask. “What he said,” she said and tipped the flask into her mouth.

Joe tugged on his hand and Nicky turned to look at him, one eyebrow cocked. “Nile said presents. What’d you get me?”

Nicky couldn’t help the baffled laugh. “Who do you think bought you the oil pastels and modeled the whole afternoon?”

Joe’s cheeks dimpled with how wide he smiled. “That doesn’t count,” he declared, lightly clapping Nicky’s hand. “Come on,” he whined, “Present.”

There will be a day where Nicky will finally be able to resist that smile. Where he’ll be able to look at those dimples, the small wrinkles at the corners of those warm brown eyes and not fold faster than wet paper. Today wasn’t that day.

Nicky let out a deep sigh, pursing his lips in feigned annoyance as he reached into his pocket to pull out a small box. Joe snatched it out of his hand with a giddy whoop, tearing through the wrapping paper and throwing the lid to the floor. He pulled out a thick platinum ring, his eyes gleaming similar to what Nicky had always imagined a dragon looking at its treasure would look like.

Joe twisted the ring to look at the inside. “My everything,” Joe read aloud and Nicky wrapped his arms around him.

“Happy birthday, amore.”

[bakugous-bbygirl]

~Sleepless nerd~

Bakugou X F!Reader

First time doing this please don’t make fun of me please feel free to give me feedback and help me make more stories like this one!

Warnings: swearing. (That’s it really)

Bakugou called all his classmates nerds, but you, you were the actual worst nerd he’s ever met.

When you started attending UA high your room had been placed next to the angry blonde’s. Your quirk made you quite diffrent. You were incredibly smart and had the ability to hack into anything you needed no matter the size. It seemed like your quirk had no downsides

Except your god awful sleep schedule.

Durning classes you looked as if you were always alert. You participated well, never even dosed off in class once as far as everyone knew. But durning the night bakugou could hear you playing away on some game. At first he assumed it was a one night thing. But that was two months ago.

Night after night he would hear you turning on your tv leaning against the thin walls and would just play away for hours. He wondered how in the world you functioned.

It wasn’t your fault really. Your quirk has your brain running all the time constantly trying to hack into phones and other electronics. Not only that but constant math equations and other school stuff took over your mind all day. It was absolute hell for you but you never let it show.

Other than that though. The rest of your classmates loved you. You were socialble, always helping others when it came to school work, and even seemed unbothered by mineta’s terrible comments about you looked in your uniform. “Looking perfect as always (y/n). Your skirt is juuuussst right” “Thank you, please back away from me now your starting to drool :)” your reply was always the same regardless of what he said but it was still really impressive you delt with the comments at all. But Bakugou held a personal vendetta against you and your awful sleep patterns. He never attempted to talk with you besides the small rude comments on how your in his way, or smaller things, he couldn’t deny though. You were adorable durning the day. Your smile made him feel warm feelings in his chest, and he could listen to that laugh forever. Damnit why did the most annoying girl have to be the one he fell for! He knew one day he should probably just ask you to stop playing so late at night since it would wake him but he couldn’t bring himself to face you for more than a few minutes without getting all red and flustered thinking about being your boyfriend. Thinking about holding your small frame against his body and sleeping soundly together. Bakugou figured he didn’t have a shot though, since you were much closer to that annoying red headed rock, but after seeing your notes you had passed on to kirishima, Bakugou had no choice but to look at you in a whole new light

“Kiri, you need my notes again?” You whined while leaning against your doorway.

“Ah I’m sorry (y/n)! You know English just isn’t my strong suit.” The red head rubbed the back of his neck embarrassed while facing you. You weren’t surpised but you were realllly tired. He had just knocked as you were getting ready to crawl into bed and pass out. “Alright alright, wait out here I’ll go grab them” you yawned while closing your door back gently as to not seem rude. You rummaged through your bag while rubbing your eyes and grabbed the first sheet of paper that was labeled “English class” not spending to much time checking over it. Boy you wished you read that paper better

After handing it over to kirishima you admitted that you were planning on napping and to just give them back to you later in the afternoon. “Thanks again (y/n)!” You closed your door and decided before crashing to clean up your energy drink cans you had let make a small pile on the ground. It was kinda strange but you had done this since your quirk manifested. Your brain was always ticking, so you had trouble relaxing and sleeping normally. You had come to learn sleeping durning the night was a joke and your brain would only stop after you couldn’t stay awake any longer. So you decided to drink energy drinks durning the day to keep yourself awake letting your brain just go and after classes you would just curl up and proceed to drool all over the floor or wherever you passed out. Kept you alive this long, but durning the night once you awake your brain just started up again and the cycle restarted, however today you had messed up and forgot your drink so you were a bit groggy and more down than normal, people begun to notice but you played it off as feeling slightly sick. Kirishima though did not expect anything less from the perfect note taking student and just wanted to copy your notes so he could figure out how to spell certain words. What he GOT instead was a huge picture of Bakugou and half way copied sentences. The picture was his soul focus though as today you had decided to absentmindly draw serval small side profiles of the angry Pomeranian with cute little words under it. The main one looked amazing. He couldn’t knock it. You were a great artist! If hero stuff didn’t work out you could easily make money this way! It was Bakugou looking out of the window with his headphones in. It was some real good stuff. But he couldn’t stop laughing at how clear your crush was and no one has picked up on it. Not even Bakugou himself! He couldn’t pass up a chance to help you out for a change instead of you helping him. “Ohhhh bakubro is gonna love this” he hummed to himself while knocking on the man of the hour’s door.

When the door was opened Bakugou could not believe his eyes. Of course he had feelings for you as well! But damnit he wanted to confess first! Now this stupid shitty hair knew before he did! “Give me the damn paper you extra! Just go study and get out of my hair!” Bakugou slammed his door while clutching the paper to his chest. He was mostly in a state of shock, not only were you a remarkable artist, but you had drawn him. And it looked incredible. Truely heart stopping stuff. You really fell for him hard. “Tch, damn cute nerd..” he decided to hang the paper up near his bed out of most people eyesight and knew he had to talk to you tonight. Cause there was no way that red head was taking that paper back.

10:40.

You groaned silently after reading your clock on your phone screen. You slept passed nine again, meaning you way missed dinner, and would have to sneak down all quietly so you wouldn’t wake anyone. “What a pain..” you slipped out of your bed and slid your socks over your feet while opening your door gently, what you did not expect to find was a certain blondie waiting on you. “Jesus Christ..! Bakugou you scared me..why are you up so late?” You tilted your head as Bakugou’s body had tensed. Like he owes you some explanation! “Better question dumbass..! Why are you up huh? Shouldn’t we be both sleeping?” He got you there. You had made a promise to yourself to keep your weird habits to yourself so you wouldn’t worry any of your classmates. “W-well, uh. I..um..well...” you struggled to form a actual sentence. Since you had never had more than a few seconds of conversation with the punk boy. You couldn’t help it. Your feelings for him has bloomed so out of control you often found your brain slowing down and filling itself with him. “Save it nerd. We need to talk, can I come into your room?”

You swear up and down your heart and brain stopped working at the same time. Bakugou, big meanie, Katsuki wanted to come inside of your room. Your safe haven! And better yet! What in the world did you two have have to talk about?! He’s never spoken to you! You haven’t even begun to form your denial when he just grabbed your arm and dragged you back into your room “W-wait..! What do you have to say to me..?! Did I make you upset..?!” You didn’t know what you did but your mind was already back and running to a thousand different things you could’ve done to make this hothead mad. You’ve seen how he treats midoryia you didn’t want to take any chances. “What? No. Why would I be mad at you dumbass?” Bakugou actually looked...confused? Man this night was defiantly a weird one. The only face you’ve ever seen him make was a mad one. Why did he seem so relaxed around you? “Then...why are we standing in my room..holding hands..?” You pointed at your interlocked fingers gently seeing as you weren’t sure when in the world that happened since he grabbed your arm. And why were his hands so perfect for holding?! Bakugou was caught off guard clearly but didn’t let go while he was..blushing? “Listen stupid! Shitty hair gave me your trashy notes. If I knew you had liked me I would’ve spent more time speaking to you and shit.”

Second time. Second time you felt yourself die. Did, Bakugou, while holding your hand. Just confesss that he knew you had feelings? How in the world did he know?! “Kiri did what now.” You were almost fuming. You were gonna kill kirishima. Your foot. So far up his ass it was gonna be a new record. While plotting your murder you didn’t even notice that the blonde boy was trying to explain how he got his hands on your notes and that he’s felt pretty much the same since you’ve started attending school together. His confession had fell on death ears though as he faced you noticing that you weren’t listening. Bakugou sighed and snapped his fingers in your ears to jolt your attention. “Hey dumbass.” You glanced up tilting your head “ha? What’d you say?” Why in the world did his heart stop around you. “I tried to say you made a mess of your notes today and you had basically admitted you had a crush on me. And for some odd reason. I feel the same way about you. You spend all damn day stuck in my mind. Your damn quirk hacked your way into my head and won’t leave me alone. Then you would keep me up all night. And I thought I hated you but I guess it’s pretty clear I like you and your stupid noisy ass.” To put it lightly you are kinda caught off guard. This guy hated everyone! But you always figured it was kinda a act to make himself stand out better. “So..your telling me..you actually..like..like like me..?” Your brain had begun to slow down again.

Everything in your head felt so much better around him. You didn’t know why but everything settled with his skin met with yours. Even if it was the softest touch durning classes or a half assed hug it was all you needed to make yourself seem normal. After that night of confession and confusion you had agreeded to be his girlfriend and he started crashing in your room to make sure your stupid ass slept like a normal person. Surprisingly to you he was extremely patient and helped your body sleep durning hours that everyone should sleep at. In turn durning classes you actually started acting more like yourself than you had knew was possible. Your brain wasn’t racing all day and you didn’t need to drink out of a can every two hours or so to make yourself hyper. The change went noticed by all your classmates since Bakugou with his loud self made a huge deal after you walked in holding hands and denki pointed it out to everyone. “Yeah she’s my girlfriend now!! So what?! Your just all jealous I got a date first!” Overall though. He was extremely nice and gentle with you like he was always nervous and couldn’t control his real feelings around you. It was pure heaven to you. He was just what the doctor ordered and you needed your daily dose of him for the rest of your life

Please make sure give me feedback and tell me what you think of this! Like I said this was my first time writing really in this type of format! I can already feel some things I would have to change but don’t be afraid to tell me anything!

[ladyanput]

Clues to My Heart

 This is based off of a prompt I read from @thanks-captain-obvious back in December.

Thanks to @chocolate1721 and @2sunchild2 for finding all of my stupid mistakes.

---

Adrien didn’t know when he realized how cute Marinette was, but he came to realize that he was watching her a lot more than usual. He liked how when she was really deep into her designing zone, she stuck her tongue out in concentration. He adored how when she was getting nervous or embarrassed, she’d tug at one of her adorable pigtails. 

   

As soon as he entered the classroom that morning, Marinette was making her way down the steps. She tripped over her own foot and went tumbling forward, a look of horror washed over her face as she went plummeting. Adrien bolted forward and caught her in his arms, causing them to be nose to nose, gazing deep into each other’s eyes. Adrien couldn’t help but stare into her large, sapphire blue eyes staring back at him.

   

“Are you okay?” He breathed out, feeling his cheeks burn from embarrassment as he steadied her, then took a quick step back. “Good thing I was there to catch you.”

   

“Lucky me. Thank you, Adrien.” Marinette gave that warm, perfect smile before she picked up the pencil she had dropped and returned to her seat.

    “Marinette looks really cute today.” Adrien mumbled to himself in an almost dreamy tone, quickly catching both Alya and Nino’s attention. Before the model could say another word, the duo grabbed him and dragged him to the back of the class, while Marinette was lost in her drawing in her sketchbook while she waited for class to notice them leave. 

   

“You think she looks cute?” Alya pressed a hand to Adrien’s chest, giving him a stern look as her eyes watched his expression carefully. Then she saw the look he got on his face, the look she had seen on Marinette’s face for the past four years every time she thought, saw, or talked of Adrien. It was like seeing a little lovesick golden retriever and Alya wanted to laugh at the irony. But her eyes sparked with excitement at the thought of her ship finally, at long last, would come to life. “You need to tell her, Adrien.” 

   

“Wh-what? No, I can’t do that, she thinks we’re just friends!” Adrien squeaked, drawing the attention of their other classmates. Thank God Lila was off on another one of her ‘trips’ in Brazil or whatever. Rose suddenly ripped part of her shirt, making sure it was a decently sized one before she darted down to Marinette, tapping her shoulder. 

   

“Marinette, I ripped my favourite shirt! Do you have your sewing kit with you today?” Rose’s sweet voice took on a pleading tone as she grasped Marinette’s hand tightly, giving her a kind smile. 

   

“Oh, I should have it in my locker, but class will be starting soon…” Marinette trailed off, but when she saw the pleading look on Rose’s face, she let out a defeated sigh and got up. “Alright, I’ll go grab it right quick. You don’t mind telling Miss Bustier, right?”

   

“Don't worry, Mari, we’ll cover you!” Kim called out, having a plotting grin on his face as well. The entire class had that look in their eyes, thinking something they had been hoping for for so long would finally come to light.

   

When Marinette did leave the room, everyone swarmed around Adrien with big goofy grins on their faces.

   

“Marinette has had a crush on you for years, dude.” Kim wrapped an arm around Adrien’s shoulder, grinning like a fool as everyone else nodded in agreement. ‘We kept quiet about it out of respect, but since you feel the same way…”

   

Adrien’s mind felt like it was suddenly spinning. Marinette liked him back. Marinette liked him, Adrien Agreste, while he had thought she had hated being anywhere near him! And here he thought that she had been in love with Luka…

   

“Marinette is quite romantic at heart.” Alya’s voice pushed away his thoughts and made him refocus on the conversations going on wildly around him. The reporter’s eyes were full of mischief and Adrien could practically see the gears turning in her head, her grin growing more and more devious. “You should do a grand gesture, Adrien, something that will sweep her off her feet. Then when she accepts your confession, it will be like a fairytale!” 

   

“Like prince charming declaring his love for his princess.” Rose sighed dreamily and leaned into Juleka’s embrace, who kissed her forehead with a smile. “Oh Marinette would love that! She’s told all of us all of the things she’s wanted to do for you, Adrien, how many times she’s tried to confess…”

   

“How about a scavenger hunt?” Adrien blurted out, then felt his cheeks go rosy as he felt several eyes land on him, he gave a nervous smile as he ran his fingers through his hair. "You know, send her to places that were significant to her and I? Stuff like that?"

"That sounds pretty great, actually." Alix grinned as she thought it over before nodding. "Yeah, that'd kick ass."

With wide grins, the class began to plot the entire thing with a flustered, starry eyed Adrien.

…

They set it all up on Friday, so that if something went horribly wrong, they'd have the weekend to do damage control. Extra precautions never hurt anyone.

Alya managed to convince Marinette to clear her schedule for that evening, since she had a special game planned. Marinette, not wanting to turn her best friend down, wholeheartedly agreed. One afternoon never hurt anyway, she needed a bit of a break from everything that was going on.

As soon as the last class of the day ended, Alya handed the girl a piece of paper and told her to just follow the clues.

Marinette glanced down at the scrap of paper and carefully read the words.

'To where you have your secret Garden of inspiration, I often see your beautiful face light up in joy.'

Marinette's brows drew together at the wording of the note, then wracked her brain to where this 'garden of inspiration' could be. Then it hit her. The Trocadero.

She giggled as she made her way towards the location, curious at what kind of games Alya was playing. Her friend always came up with these random types of things on occasion, so she didn't look too much into it.

Marinette quickly arrived at the Trocadero, then smiled to herself as she made her through the crowd, enjoying the activity of people around her. She hadn't been here in months and she had missed it greatly.

"Excuse me, Miss Marinette?" The girl blinked and turned, seeing a tall, lanky looking woman stride up to her, holding a pink envelope. The woman grinned and tipped her tiny top hat as she held out the envelope. "I have your next clue."

"Oh, thank you." Marinette took the envelope and opened it, scanning the contents of what was written.

'While pyjamas were not the right thing to wear, so to say

Seeing that movie with you made my day.'

Marinette glanced heavenward, silently groaning at the state of these riddles. Alya certainly wasn't at her best today.

Besides, Marinette could think of only one movie she had seen in her pyjamas that wouldn't be appropriate, so she made her way to the cinema. While very glad she hadn't made many plans that evening, this scavenger hunt seemed to be taking her all over Paris. As soon as she saw the cinema in sight, she picked up the pace, 

"Marinette Dupain-Cheng?" A tall man wearing a suit strode over, holding out a familiar looking pink envelope. He gave her a jovial grin and bowed. "I hope you find your next location swiftly."

"Thank you very much." Marinette called out, then had to chuckle at the outfits these clue holders had to wear. Fancy suits and top hats were a bit much, how had Alya been able to pay for all of this?

'To where we first met, with gum on the seat

To think today, you make my heart skip a beat.'

"Tikki, I can't quite make this one out." Marinette sighed as she made her way down the street, Tikki poking her head out of Marinette's purse. "I think it means DuPont, I mean, that's where I first met Alya."

"Are you sure these are from Alya, Marinette? Maybe they're from someone else." Tikki smiled up at her chosen, having a fair idea who exactly these clues and this entire scheme was from, but she decided to keep quiet about it. It was best to simply let Marinette experience this on her own, have a bit of fun for once in a while.

So Marinette jogged her way towards DuPont, beaming as she reminisced in the memories. This was the starting place for everything in her life; her friends, her designing career, her backbone, and even becoming Ladybug.

This place was special to her. So imagine her surprise when she neared the front of the school and heard the sound of a bell. She stopped, and watched in surprise as Andre's ice cream cart made its way towards her, Andre having a huge smile on his face. He stopped right in front of Marinette, blocking her view of DuPont.

"Hello, my dear Marinette. It has been so long and look at you! Grown into a beautiful flower and who knows? Perhaps she will see her soulmate very soon" Andre said cheerfully, hugging the surprised girl, before giving her a long, calculated look. He had a gift, a gift of seeing one's soulmate. And Mr. Adrien Agreste had begged the man to be at the front of DuPont Françoise to give Marinette a serving of ice cream to show her who her soulmate was.

And who was Andre to get in the way of love? He had happily agreed, so eager to bring two souls together that were meant to be, bound by the red string of fate.

"Matcha for the eyes that makes your heart flutter, blackberry for his life cast in such chaos, and strawberry for the lips that makes you stutter." Andre said cheerily as he scooped up the ice cream, noting as the girl took out her phone and replying to a text, then happily handed it to Marinette, then patting her gently on the cheek. "I see great happiness for the two of you, for you both see each other with a love so true."

With that, Andre let her by, motioning her to the steps of DuPont. Marinette, considering just to go with it, took a taste of the delicious ice cream and went on her way, not before giving Andre a gracious thank you.

What she saw at the top of the steps of her old middle school was not what she had been expecting. She had been expecting Alya and a few of their friends with some weird prize or an explanation to all of this.

Instead there stood Adrien, holding a bouquet of roses and dressed dark khakis and a button up shirt. At the sight of her, his smile grew and his cheeks reddened, his excitement skyrocketing once he saw the colours of her ice cream. The rest of the class stood around him, looking eager as they took a few steps back as Marinette began to ascend the stairs.

"Adrien, were you the one behind all of this?" Marinette smiled at the blushing model, taking another spoonful of her ice cream, noting Alya recording them from the corner of her eye. "I have to say, that was a pretty impressive scavenger hunt you did. What's my prize?"

The words caused Adrien's blush to get worse and he began to fiddle with the bouquet, trying to get out the speech he had practiced over and over in his head.

“Marinette… I um… I’ve always thought of you as a friend, you know? But not just any friend, my best friend actually…You’re just…” He tightened his grip on the bouquet. “You’re just so amazing, and kind, and wonderful. You’re like an everyday Ladybug to us, always there to help, even when it’s for something really stupid. And you’re always there for me… I’ve been told you’ve done a few things for me that I’ve … I may have been too blind to notice. It uh, it took me until today to realize that you’re the most important person in my life. You’re the first one to really, truly understand me."

"Oh Adrien, that's so sweet. You're just as great, you're always so kind. That's what I love about you." Marinette smiled her brilliant smile and Adrien felt his heart thundering in his chest. Her words gave him courage and he puffed out his chest. 

Finally, he'd tell his Princess exactly how he felt.

Many of the girls squealed and hugged each other, while the guys gave Adrien thumbs-ups or fist bumped each other.

"Marinette Dupain-Cheng, I- I am in l- love.."

The revving of an engine cut him off, making the entire class stare as an expensive looking motorcycle parked at the base of the school steps.

The tall figure on the bike got off and took off his helmet. Adrien met the most piercing pair of green eyes he had ever seen. The young man was handsome, with spiky black hair and a jawline that could certainly cut glass.

"Who is he?" Alya whispered to Nino as the guy set down his helmet and seemed to wave at the group, a smile crossing his handsome face. "Does anyone here know him?"

As everyone began to give their negatives, Adrien watched as Marinette's face lit up and she bolted down the stairs.

"Damian, you're here!" She cried as she launched herself into the guy -Damian's- arms, though was careful not to spill her ice cream. She giggled as he kissed her cheek, then kissed his in return. "I was afraid you wouldn't be able to find the place."

"You do give perfect directions, Angel, I was able to find it easily enough." The two of them shared a quick kiss and Adrien felt his heart drop to the floor and shatter.

"Marinette, who is this?" Alya piped up, carefully putting away her phone as she made her way down the steps, everyone else following suit.

"Oh, sorry Al, this is my boyfriend, Damian. He's visiting this week from America." Marinette beamed as Damian casually wrapped an arm around her waist. "I was going to introduce you all to him once we got him settled."

"You have a boyfriend?!" Adrien blurted out before he could stop himself, then flushed in embarrassment as Marinette and Damian focused their gazes on him, the former curious and the latter observant. "I mean, um, you've never mentioned him before…"

"Well, we met a few years ago, around our second year at DuPont actually, when I went away for the summer with my grandmother, and we kinda hit it off." Marinette explained happily, holding up her ice cream to allow Damian to have a taste.

The second year of their time at DuPont Françoise.

The very year he began to date Kagami in order to get over Ladybug.

Oh.

Oh no.

"Really? I thought you were still keeping your eye out for someone." Alya motioned towards Adrien with her eyes, only earning a small, though slightly tired smile from Marinette.

"Well I decided that you can't wait around for miracles to never happen." Marinette shrugged, and Damian met Adrien's gaze. Then he merely rose a brow and smirked a bit.

Those who acted too slowly lost the game.

"Anyway, that was a fun game, Adrien, I had a lot of fun. Now Damian and I have to get back to the bakery, Papa wanted to show him how to make the perfect palmier tonight to finally outclass Alfred's cooking." Marinette tossed the empty cone into the nearby trash, then caught the helmet that Damian tossed her. The couple shared another soft kiss before both got on the bike.

Marinette gave her friends one final wave before Damian drove off, leaving the class in stunned silence.

Adrien watched dejectedly as the girl he had fallen in love with drove off with her new boyfriend.

But he had seen the colours of her ice cream, that meant he was her soulmate.

That he wasn't too late, that maybe… He still had a chance with her?

Right?

---

Taglist: @vixen-uchiha @ravennightingaleandavatempus @crazylittlemunchkin @bee-wrecker @souleateralicestein @loysydark @kceedraws @realrandomposts @alienjoyful

[stereksecretsanta]

Merry Christmas, nephilimeq!

For @nephilimeq :)

When Stiles can’t decide what to get for Derek’s Secret Santa present, he decides to give Derek himself. It doesn’t go quite like he thought it would.

Or, the one where Stiles expected sex, but got to help Derek with his computer virus instead (but still somehow ended up with a boyfriend for Christmas).

*****

A Gift to Unwrap

“I’m so glad we’re doing Secret Santa this year, I can’t afford to buy you all shit again,” Stiles said, lounging on Derek’s couch with his head off the side and his feet in the hair.

Lydia smacked his ankle when it got too close to her. “It’s not like you gave us all great gifts last year. You gave me pens.”

“What was wrong with pens? You like pens.”

“They were from the dollar store, Stiles.”

“Whatever,” Stiles flipped over, sitting properly. “I hope I get Derek, he appreciates my gifts.”

“Derek?” Allison looked over at him from her armchair, “he’s the worst to buy for, he isn’t happy with anything.”

“Hey, Derek loved the birthday present I got him!”

Allison and Lydia shared a confused look. It was just the three of them here, planning out secret santa as everyone else on the pack went for midnight wolf patrol. Stiles didn’t mind, he liked when team humans got to hang.

“Derek doesn’t celebrate his birthday…” Lydia finally said, turning back to him.

“Yeah, I know,” Stiles shrugged, “I just got him a photo album and filled it with all the family pictures of the Hales I could find. I dropped it off in the morning, we had some coffee, and I left. Derek didn’t have to celebrate, and I only had to spend like 5 bucks.”

They were both frowning now though. “How long did that take you?” Allison asked.

“Uh…” Stiles scratched his head, “a month or so?”

“A month or so?” Allison shook her head. “This year you gave me gum for my birthday!”

“Hey, you like gum!’

Lydia smirked, “don’t take it personally, Ally, Stiles only buys good presents for people he loves.”

“Woah- what? Who said - I don’t love anyone!”

Lydia laughed, “Stiles, you once bought me a TV! This year I got more dollar store pens. But Derek gets a whole photo album that you spent a month on? You’ve moved on from me and right on to him,” she grinned, “did you add little notes in it too?”

Stiles blushed, “no!… not that many! Shut up!”

“Relax, Derek likes you too,” she said. All nonchalant, like this wasn’t brand new information.

“What- what do you mean? Not that it - I don’t love him, or anything, but like what do you mean by that.”

“Okay,” Allison said, leaning back, “I can see it now.”

“Um, no? There’s nothing to see?”

“I guess we’ll find out next week,” Lydia said with a wink, “when you both get each other for Secret Santa.”

“You can’t just… cheat like that. Can you? Oh my God, what do you think he’ll get me?” They both laughed. Stiles was starting to see their point. “… not that it matters, what he gets me.”

“He’ll get you something sweet, I’m sure,” Lydia said. “You’ve kind of already outdone yourself with the photo album, but I’m sure you’ll think of something.”

“Aw, this is so sweet!” Allison said, smiling at Stiles blush. “Aw at New Years you two can kiss!”

Stiles didn’t even try to deny he liked that idea. And now that he was thinking about it, it was definitely not the first time he liked the idea of Derek kissing him.

Shit.

“Guys, I might like Derek…”

They looked at each other and laughed.

–

That weekend, when they pulled their Secret Santa names out of the hat, Stiles wasn’t surprised he pulled Derek’s name out. Lydia was a witch, she could do anything.

He watched carefully as Derek read his. He made no reaction, but Stiles noticed him glance towards him a minute later. Did you get Stiles’ name too? Was Lydia really doing this?

Was it normal to be this excited for Secret Santa?

Stiles wasn’t sure - but he didn’t care. He couldn’t wait for Christmas.

–

He realized as soon as he stepped into the mall, Lydia was right. He should have fucking waited to do the photo album for Christmas.

No one cared about their 26th birthday. It was a stupid age. Why did he go so big? Stiles had turned 22 this year, and Derek had just taken him out for dinner. He should have done that.

What the hell was he going to do now?

He had $20 he could spend and that was it. He walked past the dollar store but shook his head. Looked into H&M and scoffed. Derek would hate everything in this mall. Stiles wasn’t sure where he bought his ridiculously soft shirts, but it wasn’t here.

And they were probably more than $20s.

Cursing, Stiles back tracked. What could he do? He did the sentimental thing already, but maybe he could.. Add to that? Get… What, video recordings of his family?

No, that would just be creepy. He wasn’t fucking stalking the dead.

He could… draw him a picture? He was shit at art. He could… take him on a trip? At some point.. When neither of them were working.. And it was super cheap?

God he was doomed.

Stiles walked past La Senza and paused. The mannequin was dressed in a skimpy bra, but that wasn’t what he was looking at. It was also covered in bows, like the mannequin itself was the present.

Could… Stiles… be the present?

No, that was ridiculous.

Unless…?

No. Derek deserved a real present.

But maybe..?

Stiles bit his lip in thought. It would be better than dollar store pens at least.

He turned and made his way to the craft store. Time to spend his $20 on high end ribbon.

–

Stiles had on his tightest skinny jeans, the ones that Jackson said made his ass pop. He wore the shirt Lydia had given him, the one he thought had been a size too small but she insisted fit him better than anything else he owned.

Now, for the important layer. He pulled out the red ribbon.

He tied a loop around his chest, making a bow on his front. He tied another around his leg and made a bow on his thigh. He looped a ribbon down his left arm, starting from his shoulder and ending with a bow on his wrist.

He looked at himself in the mirror, a bit worried he had over done it.

“Well, my dad didn’t believe I was gay before, he should see me now.”

Although he and his dad had already had that talk. More than once, actually, after he caught Danny in his room in senior year. That had been awkward.

But they were good now. And Derek wouldn’t be such a surprise to him, he didn’t think…

You know, if Derek… actually liked him back. And wanted to date him. And be introduced to Stiles father as his boyfriend-

He was getting ahead of himself.

He took a deep breath. “Even if he doesn’t like me, the present is he has me for a full day. He can make me clean his windows if he wants.”

WIth that, Stiles pulled on his dad’s trench coat.

It was show time.

–

Stiles usually barged into Derek’s loft like he owned the place, but it felt weird to do that now, so he knocked.

It took a minute before Derek opened the door. He already looked confused, and his eyebrow rose up at the sight of him.

“Stiles.”

“Evening, Derek.”

“Why did you knock…. Why are you dressed like you’re going to flash me?”

Stiles felt his cheeks warm, “it’s, uh, for Secret Santa!”

“You’re going to flash me for Secret Santa?”

“No! I am,” he gestured at himself, “fully clothed underhere, I will have you know. But it is part of the present.”

Derek raised a brow, “the gift exchange is tomorrow.”

“Yeah, but… mine starts today.”

Derek shrugged, then stepped back to wave Stiles inside.

Palms sweating, Stiles stepped in and only hesitated a moment before he opened his coat. “Ta da!” He said, dropping the coat dramatically to the floor, “I am your present!”

Derek looked him up and down, eyes lingering on the bows, “okay.”

Stiles swallowed. He shouldn’t have worn his tightest clothes, could Derek see his sweat through his shirt already?

Fuck, could he smell it?

“And, uh, you can do whatever you want with me. For the next 24 hours.” Derek nodded, his eyes still on the bow on Stiles chest. Shit, maybe this was stupid. “Sorry, I thought… I’m kind of broke, and I - this was dumb-”

“No, it’s good,” Derek stepped toward him. Stiles’ heart started to race, he clenched his fists so they wouldn’t shake. This was the plan, right? This was the fucking point of the gift - make a big decleration and give himself to Derek, for a whole day, to do whatever.

But fuck, what if Derek was into weird shit? Stiles wasn’t a virgin, but he’d only been with two people before, and did that guy from college really count if all they did was handjobs? Stiles didn’t even remember his name. And fuck, what if this made Derek think all he wanted was sex? What if he was ruining a potentially amazing relationship because of one stupid -

All Derek did was reach behind him and close the door.

Of course.

Stiles cleared his throat.

“So, uh…”

“Come with me.”

Stiles obeyed, following Derek to the couch. Was Derek going to throw him on it? Ravish him?

He passed Stiles a laptop.

“You’re good at this stuff, right? I think I have a virus or something.”

“… what?”

“I have you for 24 hours, tonight you can help me with my laptop.”

“Oh, oh, okay, sure.” Stiles sat down, glancing down at the screen. He felt stupid for being relieved.

“After you figure out the virus thing, you can also help me get a netflix. And figure out how to get it on the TV? Lydia is refusing to set up pack movie nights anymore if we’re all going to complain about watching The Notebook everytime.”

“Alright,” Stiles leaned back on the couch, diving right in. By the state of Derek’s desktop, he had a feeling this might actually take him 24 hours.

–

Stiles slept over at Derek’s house that night, though it went very differently than he had imagined. He borrowed Derek’s sweats and a baggy T. He slept on the couch. He worked on his laptop until 2 am, and woke up to Derek making breakfast. Stiles joined him in the kitchen, making coffee beside him as he cracked eggs into a pan.

It was nice. Domestic.

Derek smiled at him as he passed over a mug of coffee, and Stiles smiled back.

This was way better than his original plan.

“So, your computer’s up and running, and can connect to the TV. What else do you need help with?”

“Cleaning.”

“… cleaning what?”

“The loft. The pack is coming over tonight for the Secret Santa exchange. Clean up, and when you’re done, help me make the Christmas cookies.”

Stiles shrugged, “okay.”

–

Cleaning wasn’t hard. Derek kept his place pretty impeccable anyway, so all Stiles had to do was some dusting and sweeping. Then he joined Derek in the kitchen, where he had already started baking.

The rest of the day went by so fast, Stiles ran out of time to go home. He changed back into the clothes he was wearing last night, minus the bows, and came back to find the pack already arriving.

He smiled at Derek as they passed out the food together. He imagined what it would be like if he really did live here, really did help Derek with every pack night. He thought they would make a good pair.

And when their shoulders brushed when they sat down together, Stiles didn’t feel nervous. In fact, he leaned into the touch a bit. And he didn’t miss the soft smile Derek sent his way when he did.

Yeah… he thought they would be great together.

The night went by in a blur, Stiles too focused on Derek’s warmth beside him to really pay attention to any of the presents everyone was opening.

He didn’t even notice people had started leaving until it was only him, Lydia and Allison left.

And Lydia and Allison were getting ready to go.

“Oh. I guess I should get ready to go too.”

“Aw, but you two look so cozy,” Allison said with a smirk.

Stiles flushed. Derek, thankfully, either didn’t notice her comment or ignored it. “I haven’t given you your gift yet,” he said. “You can’t leave.”

“Have fun getting your gift, Stiles,” Lydia said, winking, before she shut the door.

Stiles felt his face grow even hotter, but Derek still didn’t comment on it as he got up to get his present. Bless this man. Bless him and his new social tact.

Derek came back out with a present so big, Stiles felt a pang of regret for going with his stupid idea. He could have at least given him… socks, or something.

“Derek, you didn’t have to-”

“I did. After the photo album, I did.” He cleared his throat, “it’s not that big of a deal, I just didn’t know how to wrap it.”

Stiles didn’t believe him. The way Derek was carefully holding it, he didn’t think Derek fully believed it either.

When he ripped open the wrapping paper, he gasped, “Derek…”

It was a painting. A painting of him in his grad cap and gown, from his university graduation last summer. Beside him was his dad, in his suit, just like in their pictures, and on the other side…

“I tried to make her look a bit older, without changing her too much… your dad gave me a picture.”

“She’s beautiful,” Stiles whispered. His mother looked just like he remembered, he even knew the dress, but… there were wrinkles that he never got to see her have. A few gray hairs she never got to grow. His eyes started to burn, so he put the picture down on the table, taking a deep breath. “Derek, you really didn’t have to…”

“You didn’t have to give me the photo album.”

Stiles licked his lips. Derek leaned forward.

“I knew what you were doing. With your gift, I mean, I knew what you were trying to do.”

“You don’t - I shouldn’t have, I don’t want to force anything. It was stupid.”

“It wasn’t stupid, it was cute. I was just surprised. And you smelled really nervous, sweaty,” Stiles cursed himself, he knew Derek had smelled the sweat. “I didn’t want our first anything together to be with you under pressure. I want us to both want it.”

Stiles looked at Derek, how beautiful and sincere he was. He thought maybe he was already in love with this man.

“Do I smell nervous now?”

“No.”

They leaned forward at the same time, the kiss was soft. Perfect. Derek’s beard was smooth under his fingers.

When they pulled back, Derek grinned. “Can I unwrap my present now?”

“I thought you’d never ask.”

The End <3  

[keroujack]

Omg could you do number one from that prompt list? For harringrove 💕

absolutely, my dear, sweet anon ❤️ enjoy!!

1. “If this is you flirting, I don’t like it.”

If there were nine periods in an ordinary school day, Billy was asleep for eight of them.

Well. Seven. He didn’t mind gym.

Or lunch. So six.

Billy slept through six periods in an ordinary school day and only woke up for three.

Seventh period gym. Fifth period lunch. And fourth period English.

Fourth period English, where Steve Harrington sat a row up, a seat over, and Billy was in the perfect place to annoy the living fuck out of him.

Because really, what else was he supposed to do? He was bored, he’d already read The Catcher in the Rye, and Harrington was right there.

A row up, a seat over.

Billy had sort of been walking on eggshells since that night in November, since the apology he went out of his way to make a couple weeks later.

It had been little more than a huff, a short set of words that lacked any real eye contact, a nervous habit Billy tried to make up for with genuine sincerity. Was glad and slightly relieved to know his tone had done the trick when Harrington said that it was alright, that he appreciated the apology and that they could leave all that shit in the past.

Which meant they were on even turf again.

And Billy’s hands, they were itching,

His hands were itching, Harrington was a row up, a seat over, and it had been too long since Billy had seen any fire in those big, brown eyes.

And besides that, games were more fun than books anyway.

It was early April, Hawkins was too slow, and Harrington was too close.

He was the easiest, prettiest target.

So Billy set a plan into action one calm Monday morning when he ripped a thin sheet of loose-leaf out of his notebook as slowly, as quietly as he could. Normally, he wouldn’t have cared about making any noise, liked to make a show out of a mid-class disturbance and wanted to turn a couple heads in the process, but Harrington was only a row up, a seat over.

Billy didn’t want him to turn his head.

Not yet anyway.

Once the page was free, loose, he started at folding it down into the smallest possible triangle he could manage. Decided to be a little meticulous about it, took his time and pressed his thumb into the lines of hard creases, felt it get fatter, thicker with every press, every fold.

When it was small and perfect, when his mouth was pulled into a smile and he had something bright bubbling at the top of his chest, he teed the little triangle up on one corner, stood it up between his desk and the pointer finger on his right hand.

Got it set, took aim. Held his breath and squinted and flicked the fat wad of paper with the middle finger on his left hand.

And nailed Harrington right in the back of the head.

Harrington’s hand shot up and Billy caught his cheek between his teeth to bite back a wider smile. Bit back a laugh at the confused look that twisted Harrington’s face as he felt at the back of his head.

Brow knitted tight, mouth a thin line. Hand in his hair to feel where the paper had hit him as he looked down at the floor.

He leaned over in his seat when he spotted it, reached down for the folded-up, little triangle with his free hand and looked over his shoulder once he was upright again.

Scanned the room behind him for some sort of idea as to where the paper had come from, who had thrown it, but Billy kept his eyes forward, kept his arms crossed over his chest.

Kept totally still until Harrington gave up and had no other choice but to turn back around and shove the folded-up little triangle into his backpack. To drop it.

Billy was warm. He had knots twisting white-hot in his stomach with something like satisfaction, something like victory, but he dropped it, too.

You know. Until the next day. When he did the whole thing all over again.

Folded a thin piece of paper into the smallest possible triangle he could manage, teed it up with his right hand, flicked it with his left.

And nailed Harrington right in the back of the head.

He was quicker to turn around today, Harrington. Billy only had half a second to focus his eyes on the front of the room and clasp his hands together on his desk before Harrington turned to look behind him.

So quick that Billy forgot to bite back the smile pulling at his lips, the same one pulling at the corners of his eyes as Harrington’s burned a hole in his skull.

With it, his too wide smile, Harrington’s sharp look, he knew Harrington knew, knew Harrington knew it was him, but he just kept his attention forwards. Didn’t move. Didn’t flinch.

Didn’t want to give Harrington the satisfaction of catching him red-handed.

So he waited. Ignored the spark in his chest, ignored the heat of Harrington’s eyes, and waited. Waited and waited and waited and watched Harrington turn to face forwards in his peripheral vision after what had to be a solid thirty seconds of glaring.

Billy let himself relax then, let out a breath and took that as his chance to take a look himself. Let his eyes wander a row up, a seat over. Watched Harrington reach down for the folded-up, little triangle so that he could stuff it somewhere in his notebook.

Watched his shoulders draw up a little higher. Watched the line of his jaw tense and ease. Watched his hand tighten around his pen and his leg bounce beneath him.

Harrington’s nerves were singing, burning. Billy thought if he closed his eyes he’d be able to smell the smoke. And he wanted more of it.

Wanted more fire.

So what else could he do but flick that stupid wad of paper at him all over again on Wednesday?

And Thursday?

And Friday?

Friday was the day that Billy finally slipped a little. Nailed Harrington in the back of the head with a folded-up, little triangle and met his eyes when he turned to look over his shoulder.

Looked back at him. Wanted to see the irritation for himself, needed to see the fire crackle in his eyes. Met Harrington’s glare with a smile and a wink that made him huff. Just a short little breath that Billy could hear, wished he could feel on his neck.

Because apparently Friday was the day Harrington was finally ready to slip a little, too.

He reached down for the folded-up, little triangle, but he didn’t shove in his backpack or his notebook. Didn’t get rid of it.

No.

He kept it in his hand. Poked at the pads of his fingers with the corners, first his thumb, then his pointer, his middle. And again. And again. Just this slow cycle of twisting and turning and prodding that Billy couldn’t take his eyes off even if he wanted to.

Was so distracted by it, so focused on the easy movements of Harrington’s hand that he didn’t quite hear the bell ring.

Didn’t move fast enough before Harrington stood, took a step over, a step back, and stopped right in front of his desk.

Billy’s heart started to climb as his eyes did the same, leaned back and looked up at Harrington with a smile pulling at one side of his lips.

Spoke with a lazy, “Can I help you?” that made Harrington tip his head to one side.

But he didn’t speak right away.

Just watched Billy for a long second, eyes hot with something, something like fire, fire that sent a flush to creep up Billy’s neck that he hoped to God Harrington couldn’t see.

And then he was smiling, Harrington. He was, he was smiling. A little.

Had this teeny, tiny quirk at the corners of his lips when he dropped that folded-up, little triangle in the middle of Billy’s desk and leaned down. Dropped his voice down low. Let his breath ghost over Billy’s face.

Let his eyes linger in Billy’s for three full seconds before he said, “If this is you flirting,” and flicked his eyes down towards the paper, dragged them back up Billy’s face, shook his head once and finished off the sentence with a soft, “I don’t like it.

And Billy felt his jaw go slack. Felt Harrington’s laugh on his cheeks as he stood tall and walked away.

Left Billy to stare at his back while his heart lodged itself in the back of his throat because of all the things Harrington could have said there-‘fuck off’, ‘get lost’, ‘leave me alone’­-of all the things Billy thought he was going to say, that was not one of them.

If this is you flirting, I don’t like it.

And he’d been-he had been smiling. When he said it. Got real close and smiled and dropped his voice down low and put Billy on his heels. Knocked him flat on his ass.

Made Billy wonder if maybe he wasn’t the only one here trying to play with fire.

Because if Harrington wanted to play with fire, if he wanted Billy to flirt, he could do that. He’d been trying to flirt with Harrington since the day he fuckin’ landed in Hawkins, but he’d never actually imagined having the chance to like, be overt about it.

Had never actually imagined being invited to flirt, no less being invited by somebody like Steve Harrington.

But Billy had never been one to look a gift horse in the mouth. Didn’t need somebody like Steve Harrington to ask him twice.

So he spent the rest of the day, all weekend thinking about how could do exactly that.

Come that next Monday, come fourth period English with Harrington sitting a row up, a seat over, Billy already had an idea. Well, he had a few, but there was one he had a better feeling about than the rest.

One he didn’t exactly have to go out of his way to follow through with.

He tore a sheet of paper out of his notebook as slowly, as quietly as he could, but he didn’t fold it right away.

Not today.

Not before he uncapped his pen and wrote, ‘Your ass looks fantastic in those jeans,’ right in the middle of the page.

After that, he went about his normal business. Folded it, took aim, nailed Harrington in the back of the head, but when Harrington turned to glare at him, Billy gestured with his chin towards the floor.

Towards the folded-up, little triangle.

Harrington followed his eyes and reached down to pick it up. Looked at Billy again with a pinch caught between his brow, but Billy didn’t let his expression change, just nodded towards it again and was glad he didn’t have to clarify any further when Harrington unfolded it.

Ran his eyes over it slow, again a second time. Let out a laugh so bright, so loud on the third go that he had at least four people look over and tell him to shush.

Dumped kerosene all over the fire in Billy’s stomach and made him want more.

More of that laugh. More of that feeling. More of that fire.

Gave him no choice but to do it again the next day. Tuesday.

No choice but to tear a page of his notebook and write, ‘You’ve got a really nice laugh,’ in the middle before he folded it down and nailed Harrington in the back of the head with it. Watched him reach down and open it without prompting. Read it.

Looked over his shoulder at Billy with a smile so wide it crinkled the corners of his eyes.

Billy wanted more.

So he did it again the next day. Wednesday.

‘I like it when you smile at me.’

This one turned Harrington’s cheeks pink, sent a flush up the line of his neck that Billy wanted to feel beneath his palm. Fire safe to touch.

Fire Billy wanted to see again. Wanted more of.

So he did it again the next day. Thursday.

‘Anybody ever tell you how pretty you are when you blush?’

This one turned Harrington’s cheeks rosy and red just like Billy wanted, but it also made Billy’s heart beat faster.

Made pride bloom in his chest when he realized he was four for four. Four days in a row. Batting a thousand.

But he still wanted more.

So by Friday, when Billy was four for four, sitting in fourth period English with Harrington a row up, a seat over, he got a little braver.

Tried to ignore the shake in his hand as he pulled another sheet out of his notebook and put his pen to the paper. Wrote the words slow, spent a long second on every letter and let his pen linger on the question mark.

Folded it, slower, let his heart rate speed up, faster, and felt his chest twist and clench as he got it down into a small triangle, teed it up, flicked it.

And nailed Harrington right in the back of the head.

Held his breath as Harrington opened it up and ran his eyes over the words.

‘What do you think about catching a movie tonight at 9?’

He couldn’t quite breathe while he waited for some sort of reaction. For Harrington to turn and look and smile. Or maybe for him to turn and look and shake his head no.

Harrington do any of that, though. Didn’t turn. Didn’t look. Didn’t smile at him over his shoulder. Didn’t let Billy see the fire in his eyes. His cheeks.

Instead, he folded the paper back down and stuck it in his pocket. Opened his own notebook. Turned to an empty sheet. Ripped it out and wrote something down and folded it up into a tiny, little triangle.

A fat wad of paper Billy watched him poke the pads of his fingers with the rest of the period.

The same wad of paper he dropped in the middle of Billy’s desk when the bell rang and didn’t wait for him to open before he walked away.

Maybe waited around the corner, poked his head in at the edge of the doorway to watch Billy unfold it with shaky, unsteady hands. Watched a slow smile take over his face at the words looking back at him.

‘You pay for tickets, I’ll pay for popcorn.’

Heard him laugh when his eyes landed on the bottom.

‘P.S. I definitely like this better.’

Yeah.

Billy knew how to flirt.

He even had a date with Steve Harrington to prove it.

And 9 o’clock just couldn’t come fast enough.

[bakugoubabygirl]

Part four Allmight daughter

•part Three here

We didn’t have school today so I don’t have to wake up early or so I thought.

   Bakagou: hey idoit where the fuck are . We have to train even harder.

     I was confused, I thought he would for sure hate me .

  Y/N:   I'm sorry, meet me at my house . We can train here again . I thought you wouldn't  want to see me after yesterday.

Bakagou: After finding out how powerful you are. Why in the fuck why I not want you on my team besides the fact that your stupid .

   I was relived to hear we were still friends . I got dressed and went down stairs . My dad was setting on the couch reading something.

     " look Bakagou is coming over. Is that okay" I asked. I realize yesterday morning I was wrong .

  " Sure, but nothing funny" he said.

    " Alright" I heard the door bell ring . My dad hurried up and left . Bakagou couldn't see  him in his civilian form.

     " Took you long enough" he bitched. I elbow him in the side .

     " You will pay for that" he growled .

____________________________________

                                   Katsuki  POV 🙄🤤

      We train for four hours . I grabbed my bag to go change.

    " Hey dumbass go get ready. you owe me lunch, remember" I shouted . She rolled her eyes and went upstairs.  

       I can't believe she would think I hate her. I'm not that dense.  She such a fucking idiot. Maybe her past, will keep icyhot away. 

       Maybe I do like her. She has away of getting under my skin. It pisses me off watching kiri trying to ask her out . 

       I was ready to go. I found my way to Y/n room . I open the door . This dumbass was half naked . Why wasn't she fucking dress yet.

     " BAKUGOU" she screamed . Is she serious?

      " I don't fucking care, you don't have anything to look at " I scoffed. Her face was still red . I lied though . She had so many curves in all the right places . Shit. I was trying not to think about it too much .

      "Sure, next time knock first . Your such an ass" She said . 

     " Whatever let's get going" I could feel my stomach growling. She wasn't paying attention , she was looking at her stupid phone.  " Get off your damn phone"

      " I had to tell my dad where I was going" she explained

       _______________________________________________________________________________________________________

                        Your POV 🌺🥰

" Where are we eating" I asked.

" I don't fucking know. Why don't you pick" he grumbled.

" Well okay I pick ( your favorite restaurant)" He gave me a scowled; when I grabbed his hand to pull him in the right direction. We walked in and picked a seat by the window. It was Quiet as we waited for the waiter.

" After this me and the rest of the team are hanging out at my house. I got to kick there ass at this new video game. I'm inviting your dumbass to, so you wont feel left out in shit" he mumble.

" Yeah, sounds fun" I replied. I wasn't really paying attention. I was going over the menu. The waiter came over and asked what we wanted

" I want ( your favorite food)" I smiled. Bakuguo ordered his food, then she took our menus. After ten minutes of waiting this boy came up to our table. He been setting across the restaurant with a group of friends.

" Look this is going to sound weird, but are you two dating" he asked nervously.

"No, he just a friend of mine why?" I laugh. I felt Bakugou eyes burning on me.

" I was wondering if I could get your number? My friend over there thinks your hot" he pointed over to one of his friends. I was about to answer until we got interrupted.

" Walk away extra, while you can" Bakugou growled . The guy listen and return back to his seat.

" There was no reason to be rude" I scoffed . He was so extra sometimes.

" He was being a fucking werido , you should thank me" he yelled. God he was causing a fucking scene. The lady finally came out with our food.

It smelt so good . I was gulping down my food. I was starving. I look up to see Bakugo giving me a odd look. " What" I asked.

        " You eat like a pig. There fucking food on your face" he grumble.

         " So it's just you, and this food is so good"

          " We're in public though"

          " I don't care what people think"

          " Whatever, here" he said . He reached over the table and wipe it off me face. Then I got aware of how close our face were. At that moment the lady came out with a bill .  We both snap out whatever the fuck that was.

          " I'll fucking pay okay" he said. Reaching into his wallet.

      " No I'll pay , you said this was on me to begin with"  I argued .

       " No,  just let me do it" he snatch the bill out of my hands . Who knew someone could be a ass hat , while trying to be a gentleman.

" So are we going over to your house now" I asked . Skipping in front of him, just to annoy him.

" Yeah, but no talking to my mom" he bellowed.

____________________________________

Katsuki POV😳😅

We arrived at my house . Spoil brat is probably making fun of me . Yeah it's not as big as hers but it's a big house.

My mom was in the kitchen making dinner. My dad was still at work . I was trying to get up the stairs before my mom notice .

" Hey fucktard you didn't tell me you were bringing a girl home" she smiled . " Hey I'm Mitsuki, this shit heads mom. Your Y/N right? I seen you on the News"

" Yeah, It's nice to meet you" Y/N laughed. I told that dumbass not to talk to her .

" Your very pretty , so what are you doing with my son" the old hag laugh. She thinks she so fucking funny.

" She just a fucking team mate," I yelled at her. " let's go Y/n" I pulled her up stairs .

" Your mom seems pleasant" she sarcastically said. She plop down on my bed and was looking around my room. Nosey bitch.

" Shut up. The others are supposed to be here any minute" She was pretty, my mom wasn't wrong . I can't be thinking like that . Being a pro hero is what I need to focus on.  She jab me in side with her finger. That little shit.

    We started wrestling, I had her pinned down on the bed. I won this time. her cheeks turn red, our faces were inches apart. Something in me was screaming to kiss her. I hurried in pushed my self off of her. Before she could ask me what was that, Kiri came busting through the door.  The others were right behind him.

   "Hey bakubro, you ready to play" he said taking a seat on the couch next to me ." Sero and Kamari took   a seat on the couch too. Mina took the last seat on the couch.

     "Hey Y/n you can set on my lap" Mina said patting her lap. Y/N laugh and sat on Mina lap. You could tell Y/n was joking but mina was serious.

  ________________________________________________________________________________________________________

                                           Your POV

      

           There was no more seats on the couch so I just sat in Mina lap. It was kind of funny.

"Hey Y/N you could set on my lap too" Kamari laugh. I put my legs on him.

" Now your both my slaves" I said. Then I turn my attention to the Tv screen.  It look like Bakugou was beating Kiri.

  " DIE DIE DIE" he scream violently.

   " Wow he usually not this Competitive, when we play games. Not this bad anywyas " Sero whispered to Kamari. Bakugou won.

“ Sero get up so Y/n can have a proper seat” he growled.

“ I’m fine setting here” I chided. Mina started to braid my hair .

“ Why are you a fucking lesbian or something” he fumed. He was so annoying . He gets so fucking angry randomly .

“ No but I know how disappointed you would be if I was” I joked

“ Calm dude” Kamari said

“ I am fucking calm . I bet your fucking enjoying her legs on you . You fucking perv” the whole room to be uncomfortable now .

“ What’s your problem Bakugou” I got up and yelled. He got under my fucking skin. I floated up and I felt a wave of darkness crash over me . A voice evaded my head.

He pisses you off so much why don’t you kill him? You could do it . If you draw up enough energy one hit could end him. Do it .

I felt myself hit the floor. Everyone was staring at me. I looked down at my hands, they were glowing black . They never done this before. I’m not even trying to use my powers.

“Y/n your eyes there weren’t purple, they were black” Mina whispered. What’s happening to me .

“ What’s wrong with you” Bakugou asked . He looked shocked as the rest. I need to get out of here.

“ I’m sorry. I don’t know” I sputtered. I grabbed a hold of the coffee table to help me get up. The coffee table turnt to a black stone and then crumble to dust. “ I’m sorry I didn’t know I could do that”

I ran out the door . I could hear Bakugou call my name but I couldn’t face him . The more I panic the more my hand seem to glow.

Izuku house was next door. I wanted to talk to him. I kick the door with me feet. Lucky he was the one who answers the door.

“Y/n what’s wrong” he open the door and invited me in. My eyes flooded with tears. I explain to him what happen.

“ I’m a monster, Izuku” I cried. He was probably going to tell me to get the fuck out of here.

“ Hey please don’t cry. Your not a monster. You just have new powers. Will figure this out” he said gently. My nerves started to calm. I took a deep breathe.

“ We should tell your dad” he said.

“ Yeah I will, I just don’t want to worry him” I sigh. My hands went back to normal. I touched the trash Can to make sure nothing happen. Then I hugged Izuku.

I pulled my phone out to text my dad . To tell him where I’m at. He had a meeting today but he should be home by now .

Y/N: hey I’m over at Izuku . No reason to worry I’ll be home soon.

Dad : I have something to do tonight I won’t be home . I’ll send someone to bring you home or Izuku can. I trust him to get you home safely.

Y/N : I think I’m going to stay over his house. If that’s fine . Can you send someone for my clothes and stuff.

Dad: yeah that’s fine . I love you kiddo

It was getting late me and Izuku been catching up . We haven’t been hanging out as much since school started. We hang out everyday through the summer.

I was getting tired so I decide to change into some pajamas. My pajamas was some shorts and a over size t shirt.

Me and Izuku agreed on sharing a bed. I sleep on one end and he sleeps on the other. We had school tomorrow so we needed to get some sleep.

Izuku been past out for awhile. I couldn’t sleep though. I am a monster. I didn’t tell him about the voice in my head . I was made to destroy, how can I call a hero. How can I call myself a sister or a friend. Most importantly how can I myself his daughter.

What if it’s gets out of control. I can’t let that happen. I have to do what all might couldn’t do years ago. I have to destroy myself. That’s the only way I could ever be a hero. Is from saving the ones I care about from myself.

I found some paper and a pen. I started writing my goodbyes. They will miss me I’m sure. It’s for there own good. I look over Izuku sleeping. My dearest Friend. He will help my father grieve.

It was cold outside, but it won’t matter long. I Walked until I reached the bridge. My tears pooled in my eyes .

I left the not on the ground to be found. I step on to the ledge “ This is my fate, I can’t run from it” I step off, instead of falling to my death. Someone grabbed my arm.

__________________________________

Thank you for reading this far. Please give me feed back on what I can do better or what you would like to see. I will be posting part Five tomorrow. I love yas ❤️

[getalittleclosey]

under 50k larry fic rec

hi! i’m becca and i read...so much fic. these rec lists are an accumulation of fic that i’ve read or reread and extra loved from 2016-now. there’s a wide range of stuff here and i think there’s definitely something for everyone!! i divided them up by length so you can check out all those categories below!

please make sure to read tags and warnings on all these fics!! the only things i think i can guarantee is that these are all larry, there’s no non-con, no age play, no eating disorders, no mentions of bg, they end happy, and they’re mostly aus. oh and they’re all on ao3 and some are locked so you’ll need an account! anyway i hope y’all enjoy!!!

under 5k

under 10k

under 25k

under 100k

100k+

☆ the beginning of everything by thedeathchamber 31k

“How do you take it?” Harry asked, pouring tea into a cup.

“Just a dash of milk, please,” Louis cast a look over the small table, filled to capacity. “They’re very fond of you.”

Harry ducked his head, grinning. “They’re trying to impress you.”

Louis smiled, shaking his head. “Why would they want to do that?” he asked as he took the cup Harry passed to him, their fingers brushing for an instant.

“Empathy,” Harry said under his breath.

--

A Belle Époque AU set (mostly) in Paris in which Harry is a struggling artist, in more ways than one, and Louis is a successful theatre critic and a failed writer, more or less.

☆ to kill the mess we’ve made by misandrogyny 43k

And when he's finally standing, Liam fussing over him, rubbing his hand at the red mark blooming on Harry's forehead, does Harry learn two things:

One, he wasn't actually hit that hard, and Tommo--or Louis, rather--is just as pretty when Harry is staring at him head-on and,

Two, Louis is the Adidas model he's going to be working with on today's photo shoot.

(or: AU where Harry and Louis are both models, and they decide being friends-with-benefits is a great idea. It isn't.)

☆ heart open, bloodstain on my sleeve by silkbombs (mulberrygrey) 36k

“I couldn’t help myself,” Harry admits, one hand coming to rub the back of his neck, “I stared at you for a good while before I finally got the guts to come up to you. You looked so pretty sitting there, with your little ankles and your pencil in your mouth, so enthralling… art in front of art.”

Louis’ not sure what to say, so he just kind of sits there, eyes bugging out as he stares at Harry.

“I mean, like you’re not an object!” Harry rushes out, babbling.

“I just, there’s something about you that’s so captivating, and maybe it’s the way your eyes are like a watercolor painting of the sea, or how delicate your hands look when you draw, but I just wanted to get to know you. It’s not like I pick up random boys at art museums usually, I swear. Not that I’m trying to pick you up! Unless you want to be…God, fuck I’m sorry this is so awkward now. I can go, um, if you want."

--- Or, the one where Harry's the long limbed, gangly, sweetheart who just happens be a high profile art thief who conducts heists for a living and Louis' the loud, pushy art student who just happens to steal his heart.

☆ a king beside you by stylinsoncity 26k

When the aliens invade, the last thing Louis expects is to fall in love.

☆ the boys of summer by afirethatcannotdie 45k

“I mean…we’re gonna have to sneak around anyway, yeah? Like, with that whole rules thing that I guess we’ve decided to ignore. Might make it a little more fun this way.”

AU. In which Louis is a reluctant sports coach, Harry's a fellow counselor who wears tiny yellow shorts, and camp rules say they're forbidden to date.

☆ don’t let the tide come and take me by kiwikero 29k

The aquarium in the lobby has been there as long as Louis can remember, and so has the merman inside. That is, until the day Louis loses his job and decides to set the creature free.

They set off on a road trip to the sea, learning to communicate more and more each day. Their destination is LA, but the closer they get and the more Louis gets to know the merman, the more he dreads having to say goodbye.

Or, the one where Louis decides to set a merman free and ends up finding his own freedom along the way.

☆ introduction to dynamics by juliusschmidt 29k

Louis Tomlinson is the outspoken omega in the 'Introduction to Dynamics' course Harry wishes he didn't have to take. He's nearly certain to present as a beta, after all. Things will be simple for him.

☆ saved tonight by objectlesson 31k

Harry is the world's most persistent seduction-baker, a questionable dog-sitter, and Louis's biggest fan. Louis hasn't written in years, is trying to pass loneliness off as cynicism, and absolutely hates his fans. It's probably destiny.

☆ once upon a dream by objectlesson 27k

“M’not gonna half-ass our fake relationship,” Louis almost snaps, voice sharp with a defensive edge, like Harry wandered too close to a bruise with needy fingers. “Now kiss me again. We’re gonna make every shitty tourist here wish they had stayed in the Midwest. We’re gonna burn Disneyland down with our gay. ”

Harry shuts his eyes and opens his mouth, because he can’t fucking say no to Louis.

--

Or, a fake dating AU where everyone is lying and they happen to be at the Happiest Place on Earth.

☆ rivers ‘til i reach you by embodied 29k

Louis can’t begin to understand how he’s always this close and still can’t manage to make Harry his. He stands up and gets another beer. AU. Louis studies astronomy; Harry studies Louis. They spend their summers on the water and it shouldn't be complicated (spoiler: it is).

☆ life was a song, you came along by rainbowninja167 38k

It's embarrassing how long it takes Louis to recognize his own song. Niall had sung it as a bright, hopeful love song, and that’s honestly how Louis had always assumed it should sound. But this new voice, slow and rough, stripped of any backing instrument, has infused the lyrics with just the tumultuous mix of fear and defiance that Louis can remember so clearly from the night he wrote them. It’s not a comfortable thing, to feel like someone is singing all your secrets back to you.

Louis is a songwriter trapped in a lie that could ruin his best friend's career. Harry owns a record store, distrusts everyone in the music industry on principle, but loves Niall Horan's newest album. A modern retelling of Singin' in the Rain.

☆ learning to eat by photo41 29k

Celebrity chef Louis Tomlinson has a problem. He’s opening his first restaurant in 9 weeks, and he has yet to hire a pastry chef- apparently people think he’s ‘standoffish’ and ‘rude’ and ‘quick to temper’. Whatever. He ends up saddled with an annoying, happy-go lucky rookie who also happens to be obnoxiously good looking. His tv presenter and pop star best friends only add to the drama, and for fucks sake would everyone please stop quoting Julia Child?!

Kitchen AU where Harry helps Louis re-learn how to eat. (METAPHORICALLY)

note: just to clarify this is NOT an eating disorder fic don’t worry

☆ runner on third by kikikryslee 40k

As Harry stood there, the other man turned around, and he knew he was correct in who he thought it was. “Louis?” he asked, still not quite believing it. Louis blinked. “Harry? Wh– what are you doing here?” “I work here,” Harry said. “What are you doing here?” “Um, I’m picking up my brother. The nurse called and said he was sick.” Harry felt like he was going to be sick. “Wait, Ernest is your brother? Since when do you have a brother?” “Since about seven years ago, I guess. Wait, how do you know Ernest?” “I’m his teacher.” “You’re his what?” Louis exclaimed. Harry gulped. This was going to be a long year. --- Or, the AU where Louis and Harry were best friends growing up, but lost touch after Harry moved away. Ten years later, Harry has moved back to town, but he and Louis don't pick up where they left off.

note: there are four fics in this series that total to 60k

☆ roots by cherrystreet 43k

There aren’t many things that make Harry Styles nervous. He’s spent the past couple of years on and off various stages, filled with screaming fans, all chanting his name, loud and adoring. He’s done countless interviews, some even on live, national television, never faltering over his words, answers meticulously planned out, smooth and steady. He’s signed countless autographs, taken just as many photos, and even when he sat in his label’s studio, waiting to see how high up on the charts his single made it, he didn’t feel uneasy or uncomfortable. It’s all been unbelievably fun. No, there aren’t many things that make Harry Styles nervous.

Enter Louis Tomlinson.

☆ once upon a dream by thedeathchamber 33k

Louis is psychic and gets caught in the middle of a murder investigation led by FBI Special Agent Harry Styles.

aka. the Medium/Criminal Minds-inspired AU no one ever asked for.

note: there’s a 24k sequel for this!

☆ the melody you never heard by bananasandboots 30k

It's one last adventure. One last chance to be young and carefree. One final weekend before they take up their internships, their corporate positions, before they enter the real world, fresh out of university. Niall's his best mate. Liam's been there for him since they were lost, little freshmen, trying to find their ways through an overwhelming first year. Harry can't disappoint them, even if it means enduring four days with Louis.

Louis, who he does share a history with, a history he's never told anyone about, not even Niall, a history he hasn't brought up in three years because it's stupid and embarrassing and confusing.

Or, the one where Harry gets roped into a four-day camping trip with the boy who kissed him and never called back.

☆ born to make you happy by objectlesson 26k

Harry makes a quiet vow to himself that he will be the very best girlfriend Louis has ever had, even if he never actually gets to be Louis’s girlfriend.

note: i literally had to take a break and reread this cause i love it so much

☆ close to nowhere by angelichl 35k

“I will kill you in your sleep,” Louis threatened as he quickly stepped out of his jeans.

“I don’t think that would work very well baby, seeing as you talk to dead people all the time.”

“I’ll kill you in your sleep and ignore your ghost. And don’t call me that.”

Louis and Harry are psychics who kind of hate each other. They go to Tennessee to investigate a haunting.

☆ adrenaline by reveries_passions 38k 

“Harry Styles,” Nameless Boy who now has a name says. Louis is too busy having an internal crisis to realize the boy has just introduced himself as Harry Styles. Harry Styles, only son of Des Styles, PhD, Dean of Harvard Medical School. Harry Styles, known by everyone and their grandmother. Harry Styles, star rower. Harry Styles, youngest enrolled student in graduate school at Harvard University. Oh my god, Louis thinks, mortified. I just slept with Harry Styles. As he reaches out tentatively to shake the boy’s hand, another thought hits him. Oh my god. Harry Styles is gay.

~

louis tomlinson, college dropout, up and coming dj, and gay activist, is the notorious owner of exclusive underground gay club, adrenaline.

harry styles, med student by day, partier by night, child prodigy and seemingly heterosexual son of harvard professors, is the youngest and arguably the smartest student at harvard medical school.

or: a one night stand wasn't supposed to become the greatest love story of the 21st century.

☆ bloodsport by tofiveohfive 40k

“You know how our next game is against the Cardinals, right? You remember how vicious those guys can get. I wanted us to come up with some plays, maybe work on a block from the left—”

Louis stops when he hears a chuckle.

He doesn’t think he’s said anything particularly funny, so he turns to Harry, waiting for an explanation.

“‘S funny, ‘s all.” Harry throws his finished bottle somewhere near the other discarded ones. “This is the first time you’re talking to me in eight months, and it’s still about football.”

☆ the haunting of louis tomlinson helloamhere 31k

“I'm not afraid of ghosts,” Louis said.

Every single magnet unstuck itself from the fridge and fell to the floor in a clattering cascade.

“I'm only a little afraid of ghosts,” Louis said.

*** OR: Louis is a plucky Gothic Heroine, Harry is a Mournful Spirit, and Big Country Houses are full of mystery and suspense, as Big Country Houses ever are!

☆ can i not like you for a while? by larryshares 43k

louis tomlinson is awful. harry is just as difficult, and they're both terrible to each other. it makes being in the same acapella group together quite complicated.

☆ delight in masques by kassio 28k

Popstar Louis Tomlinson has been pulling one over on the mortals for years. In the five years since he put on a human illusion and tried out for the X Factor, none of them have realised that he’s one of the Fair Folk – a cat shapeshifter, to be precise – and he’d like to keep it that way.

When he returns to the X Factor as a guest judge, the last thing he expects is for some half-Siren fool to use magic on the judges. Unfortunately, that’s exactly what Harry Styles does. Now Louis has to track down some rogue changeling before he exposes them all. Even worse? Apparently, Harry doesn’t even know what he is.

(An urban fantasy adventure, set in the world of - but not crossing over with - the October Daye book series. No need to be familiar with those books; I just want to give credit where it's due on a lot of the worldbuilding.)

☆ no love like your love by rearviewdreamer 43k

When it comes to saving the world from itself and convincing rich CEOs of environmentally harmful companies to go green, there's nobody better than Harry Styles. That is, until Louis Tomlinson, his ex and former Alpha, is involved.  

note: i love vegan harry styles

☆ for neither never nor ever by fairytalelights 29k

Then Harry looked down. A newspaper was on the steps in front of him, looking new, like it had only just gotten delivered but no one had bothered to carry it inside yet. That, in itself, wasn't unusual. The unusual thing was the headline, Chernobyl - Half a Year Later, and the date in the corner. 5th November 1986. He looked up to stare at the girl in the doorway one last time, before he did the only logical thing his body knew how to do in this situation. He bolted.

or, the one where Harry travels through time and has to come to terms with losing everything he's ever known. Louis might be the only thing that feels real.

☆ worth dying for by whoknows 45k

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Louis says, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms over his chest. In the center of the table, a set of three glossy photos stares up at him, mocking him.

“A security detail is non-negotiable, Louis, you know this,” his mum reminds him, tapping the middle photo with two fingers.

Louis doesn’t look back down at the pictures, gesturing towards them wildly, over-dramatically. “This is not a security detail!” he protests. “This is a lanky college student. In what world do you hire someone like this kid to protect me?”

☆ listen to your heart by lovelarry10 35k

Are you kidding me right now?

I… No? Louis frowned, feeling angry now. It wasn’t fair, he knew that, but at the same time, he couldn’t help his feelings. It felt like this had been brewing for weeks, and this was it. Give it a rest, Harry.

Why are you such a brat? Why can’t you just be happy for me for once?

You think I want to hear about you kissing James? Really, H? There’s things I just don’t need to know, okay? I’m your best mate, not your fucking relationship advisor…

*****

Louis has always been comfortable being Harry’s one and only. When Harry starts to branch out, Louis has a hard time letting him go.

Harry is very lucky to have someone who listens to what he has to say, despite the fact that he’s deaf. He’s finally feeling like he’s coming into himself, but Louis seems bothered by his newfound confidence.

☆ another day gettin’ into trouble by whoknows 26k

Harry’s drunk when the idea occurs to him. He’s also a pop star, so sometimes his drunk ideas turn into actual things instead of just ideas. The clone-a-willy kit is one of them.

In Harry’s defense, when he first thinks about it his intention is just to buy the kit and give it to Louis to make his own dildo with, because that’s what he wants anyway, right? To have a penis filling him up?

Then he realizes that it would be weird if Louis made a copy of his own dick to fuck himself with. It’d be super weird. Louis fucking himself? That’s a weird idea. Harry’s pretty sure Louis wouldn’t like that.

Clearly the only solution here is to use his own dick for the mold.

☆ all the right moves by cherrystreet 32k

This is the third game in a row that Harry has been distracted by the noisy boy in the stands, five rows back.

There’s really no reason that he should feel compelled to stare into the audience as frequently as he is, but he can’t help it. This boy is a nuisance. And he’s loud. Even from basketball court with nine other players running by him, shoes squeaking on the shiny hardwood floor, and thousands of cheering college students, Harry can hear this boy nearly shrieking, his laugh more like a cackle than anything.

It’s seriously obnoxious.

☆ play the odds by alivingfire 26k

Harry and Louis are best friends since childhood who, after a night of drinking, find themselves locked in a bet: first one to kiss the other a thousand times wins. Wins what? They don't know. Glory, Harry supposes. Bragging rights, though those don't do much in this economy. All Harry knows is that this is one bet he can finally win. What he doesn't expect, though, is what happens when he starts kissing his best friend on a daily basis.

Namely, he doesn't expect falling head over heels in love with his best friend.

Now all he has to do is make sure the bet never ends, so he never has to stop kissing Louis.

[13-reasons-ideas]

The Difference of Influence

A/N: Please see my previous post for an explanation. This may become a multi-part idea if I get enough good feedback. 

Ugh, I hate rich kid parties. I hate the people and the way everyone shows off what cool shit they bought just because. And the gossip. I hate how everyone tries to one up each other in regards to whose parents have more money or prestige. So far tonight my “friends” have come to the conclusion that my parents are basically royalty-today anyway.

 Just because my dad is a lawyer who went to Dartmouth for his undergrad and Yale for law school, and my mom went to Harvard for both her undergraduate degree and medical school, doesn’t mean I’m spoiled or destined for the US Presidency or whatever people think this week. The fact that they both graduated top of their classes doesn’t mean shit either. My parents taught me how to work hard. My mom went to Harvard on a full-ride scholarship and paid her way through medical school. My dad started working 30 hours a week and balancing work with school when he was 16 so he could afford to go to an ivy league school. Unlike some people here, they didn’t have things handed to them. So as a result, neither do I. Do I have more opportunities because of their income? Yes. Do I work my ass off for what I have? Yes, absolutely.

I was beginning to grow tired of the drunken shenanigans of my so-called friends so I picked up my cup of cranberry juice and decided to see if I could track someone more interesting down. Or find Winston, since he was the one who made me come to this stupid party. I had seen Bryce Walker dragging a very unhappy looking Montgomery de la Cruz along with him earlier. The young man seemed almost as uncomfortable as I felt. I figured I could keep him company and we could talk about what was going on between us.

Monty and I are not exactly what I would call friends, but we have an understanding. He comes over to my place sometimes when things get rough at home and I’ll meet him after practice or something at the docks and we talk or work on homework. We don’t talk about what goes on at home, though not for lack of trying on my part. I’ve offered to be an ear to listen or a shoulder to cry on. I’ve offered to either help him tell my mom or tell her myself, because she is a mandatory reporter. I’ve asked my dad the legalities and process that would result with accusations of alleged domestic violence as he put it, and tried explaining the process to Montgomery, but he wouldn’t hear any of it. As much as I would love to make him come forward, I know I can’t. The boy was terrified, though he tried to hide it. I gave up on bringing the subject after we had a blow-up fight about it at the docks one day. We didn’t talk for three days after that fight. In that time, he had snapped a bit. It became obvious to me that his friends had never really pushed the issue of his dad with him. In those few days, Monty had given Tyler a harder time than usual, argued with Coach Rick, yelled at Bryce, and on the last day of our silence, come to school with a black eye and a broken arm. When I saw that, I couldn’t let him continue to avoid me. I knew he had practice that day, and he had to attend regardless of his arm, so I made a run to Monet’s after school. I waited for him at his Jeep and after some coaxing and bribing with muffins, we drove to the docks and apologized. Our friendship went back to normal after that. I agreed to drop the subject and he agreed that if he ever wanted to talk about it, then he would.

I spotted Bryce talking to some boys from Hillcrest and nodded at him when he made eye contact with me. As much as I hate the guy, my parents taught me to be polite to people, even if the person was an evil little worm. I scanned the living room but didn’t spot Monty anywhere, but that wasn’t too concerning. Hes not attached to Bryce’s hip or anything, though Clay would beg to differ. I also couldn’t find Winston in the crowd. Figuring he would be in his room taking a breather, I made my way upstairs to crash his solo party. Everyone knew that Winston’s room and his parents’ room were off limits at these parties so I figured he would be alone. I didn’t think twice about the closed door because he is my best friend. We had seen each other in various states of dress before and I figured he was trying to avoid whoever decided to complain about the free pizza taking too long to arrive. I expected to find him reading or drawing. However, I did not expect to open the door and find Montgomery standing in front of my best friend with his pants around his ankles. Or Winston to be on his knees. I quickly covered my eyes and turned bright red as I gasped, trying to give them privacy. I would have walked out of the room but I was frozen. I peeked between my fingers as Monty whipped his head up and shouted a quick “fuck.” He pushed Winston away but kept him close enough to cover himself.

“Oh shit. I’m so sorry. I thought… well not this. I just wanted to get away from all the people.” I exclaimed, embarrassed to have interrupted them. Monty let out a breath when he realized it was only me and Winston turned to look at me, his face also red.

“(Y/N)!” Winston exclaimed.

“I’m sorry. I’ll just go chill in your parents room.” I nodded at them and turned to leave. Before closing the door, I added “if this goes any further, use protection my dudes. As you were.” I smiled as I left the room, firmly shutting the door behind me. I spent the rest of the night holed up in the master bedroom.

I heard a commotion outside but figured it was just some drunken idiots playfighting. It wasn’t until Martha, one of Winston’s classmates came running into the room did I grow concerned. “(Y/N), you-“she paused to catch her breath. “You need to come quick. Its Winston. Bryce’s friend…. You just… you need to come outside.” She said quickly. I immediately knew that the commotion was much more than drunken stupidity. Jumping from the bed, I bolted down the stairs and saw Bryce and some other guy I recognised but didn’t know, pulling Monty off of my best friend. Monty was fighting Bryce’s grip on him and for the second time that night, I was frozen. Winston groaning pulled me out of my shock. I jumped back into action and saw the blood on his face. I directed Martha to pull him up because I knew she was doing an advanced health class of some kind. I looked at Winston’s face but couldn’t stop myself from turning to Bryce as he tried to talk some sense into Monty. Winston nodded at me that he was okay and I marched over to Bryce and Monty.

“Bryce, I’ve got him.” I tried to cut in. Bryce continued to berate Monty and ignored me. “Walker. Back off. I’ve got him.” I said again, louder and placed my hand on his shoulder. I pulled him back when he ignored me again. “Walker, I swear to God. Let go. I have him.” Finally, he turned to look at me. Monty looked at me as well and I saw fear cross his eyes briefly. He thought I was going to tell Bryce.

“What?” Bryce asked, gruffly.

“I. Have. Monty. Go talk to Winston.” I told him, leaving no room for argument. Bryce let go of Monty and begrudgingly went to talk to Winston. I stepped in front of Monty and grabbed his wrist when he tried to walk away. The shock at my action made him look at me. “You’re staying here. Stand right here and I’m going to go try and fix this. He is my best friend. Bryce is going to fuck this up more, but I should be able to keep your ass out of jail tonight. You are coming home with me. We will discuss this when we get to my place. Lucky for us, my parents are out of town.” I told him and watched as he sat against the bumper of Bryce’s Range Rover.

I walked over to Winston as I heard Bryce trying to “fix” the problem. “No one has to call the cops. Here’s two grand, I’ll give you three more tomorrow.” He offered Winston the cash as I cleared my throat.

“Are you fucking serious Bryce? Bribery? That’s your solution to your friend beating the crap out of him?” I cut in. Bryce looked at me and rolled his eyes.

“Look, hes fucked up. He gets beat at home and shit.” Bryce explained, as if it was the most natural fucking thing in the world. I felt my blood begin to boil at his comment.

“You know what Walker, fuck off.” I said through clenched teeth. “Let me handle this. He’s my best friend.” Bryce seemed surprised at my aggressive tone.

“Okay, I’ll get Monty home then.” He said.

“No. No you will not.” I told him. He seemed confused. “Just go wait with him while I clear this up. Do not take him anywhere.” Bryce nodded, realizing that I had learned a thing or two about arguing from my dad. He rushed back to his car and waited with Monty. “Alright, show’s over. Everyone clear out.” I called. When no one moved I added, “Now.” Roughly. People began to scatter back in the house and, like good little rich kids, pretended they hadn’t seen anything. They knew that if the cops got called, it would only add suspicion to their activities over the evening. “Are you okay Winston? What happened?”

“I’m okay. I don’t know. I said hey to him and he just… lost it. Walker and Darby pulled him off me as you came down. Was Bryce serious? About what happens at home?” He asked, a concerned look crossing his face. I hesitated. “(Y/N).”

“Y-yes. His uh… his dad is… well. He’s a shit excuse for a parent.” I explained.

“And you’re… friends? With him?” He continued.

“I wouldn’t say friends exactly? We never really defined what it is that we have. We just… talk about stuff. I’ve tried to get him to talk to someone, but you know I can’t force him to talk.” I told him. “Look, Monty is complicated. He has a lot of feelings he doesn’t know how to explain. What I walked in on tonight… I don’t think he had ever entertained those feelings before.”

“Okay. You seem to know him. What do you think just happened?”

“I think he is scared. I’m not trying to excuse his behaviour, but I think what happened earlier made him confront feelings he has had for a long time and I think he reverted back to what he knows how to feel. He knows how to feel angry. He knows how to inflict pain. He knows how to make people feel how he feels. I think he has had too much to drink and he needs to go sleep it off.” I explained, hoping Winston would understand. He deliberated for a moment and nodded.

“If he goes home with you, then I won’t press charges. I don’t need cops sniffing around a party. Tell Walker I’m keeping the money for insurance against asking what happened. I don’t want Bryce asking questions if Monty wants to keep this quiet.” I nodded and sat down to hug him softly.

I left Winston on the steps and walked back to Bryce and Montgomery. I turned my attention to Bryce. “It’s been taken care of. He’s keeping the money. You don’t ask questions about this. You don’t talk about this. As far as you’re concerned, this didn’t happen. How you explain being out two grand in one night is up to you. You’re going to get in the car and you are going to drive home. I will take Montgomery home and I will deal with this. You have helped enough tonight.” Bryce did not argue with me as he motioned for me to take over a now slightly calmer Montgomery. I took his arm and felt him still shaking. Bryce got in the car and began to drive away as I led Monty to my Civic. He wordlessly got in and did up his seatbelt as I rounded the car and did the same. We were silent as I drove back to my house. Thank god my parents are at a conference. I don’t want to explain this one to them.

[brianandthemays]

The Earth and the Moon (Brian May x reader)

A/N I know the deadline for A Night at the Fandom isn’t until next week but I just can’t wait anymore!!! 

Thank yoooou sooooo much to @zodiacal-dust-and-curls for helping with the writing and for beta reading for me! I appreciate yousoooo much!

For @freddiedearfriend I hope you love!

Word COunt: 3.3k

Warnings: Sciencey? A little angst, some drinking, fluff!

Pls comment, reblog, send an ask! Feedback is always appreciated!!

_________________________________________________

What happens when the earth falls in love with the moon?

You slouched over you desk, chewing on the end of your pencil as you struggled with the reaction in front of you. Your partner, Roger Taylor, on the other hand, seemed to be whizzing through the reactions in front of you. When you decided to major in Biology you’d forgotten about Organic Chemistry, and these organic reactions were going to be the end of you. You scribbled down the rest of the reaction before glancing over at Roger’s paper. Similarly, he leaned over and looked at yours.

               “Oh, love,” he tsked, shaking his head. “You put the electrons in the wrong place again.” You groaned loudly, setting your pencil down and burying your face in your arms. Roger placed a hand on your back sympathetically. “Hey, on the bright side, if you fail out of organic chemistry, you can have room for an art minor. Your hexagons are great.”

               “Roger! Not helping,” you snapped, snatching up your pencil and erasing furiously at your paper. “I’m never going to pass this class and then I’m never going to graduate, and then I’ll never get accepted into medical school and then I’ll be sad and lonely forever.”

               “Now that is an over exaggeration,” Roger replied, plucking your pencil from out of your hands and beginning to draw the correct hexagons on your paper. “I’ll let you cheat off my final.”

               “Thanks, I appreciate that,” you deadpanned, watching him work.

He drew the answers so seamlessly it made you irritated. This stupid pretty blonde was actually intelligent meanwhile you could remember where stupid electrons went on a hexagon. You’d drawn so many circles and hexagons over the past few months that you were starting to hate all shapes. You cringed whenever you saw a stop sign. But the subject seemed to come naturally to Roger, and that wasn’t the only thing that’d come naturally to him.

               “You should meet my mate,” he muttered, continuing to work on your paper. “His name’s Brian, he’s in… uh… astro… astro… blimey what’s the word.” He paused for a second and stared into the desk, his forehead creasing in concentration.

               “Astrophysics?” You offered, raising an eyebrow at him.

Roger’s eyes lit up and he flashed you a smile. “Yeah! That’s it, you heard of him?”

Had you heard of Brian? Brian May? Your silent study buddy who sat diagonally from you in the library. Every Tuesday and Thursday from six to eight in the evening, you would study ‘together’. His soft complexion and kind eyes drew you to sit next to him the first time and since then, you’d been too afraid to actually hold a conversation to him. One time, you bought him some chips and he’d thanked you with a soft blush but that was the extent of it.

               “Uh, yeah… I think I’ve seen him around.” You shrugged, tapping your fingers on the table, not looking in any particular direction.

Roger nodded turning back to the paper. “Yeah, well. He seems like your type. Smart, likes stars, stuff like that.”

               “Oh, and that’s my type?” you scoffed, resting your hand on your chin to watch him.

               “I just think you’d get along is all I meant,” he clarified, wiping away the excess eraser and sliding your paper back to you. “There you go, good as new.”

               “Thanks Roger, I really owe you,” you admitted truthfully, glancing over the paper. Roger smirked and sat back in his chair. “Seriously Roger. You’re a life saver.”

               “Ok, come see my band,” he said, glancing back over at you.

               “Band?”

               “Yeah, I’m in a rock band with Brian.” He shrugged as if it was the plainest thing in the world. “I’m a drummer.”

               “Brian?”

It was hard for you to grasp that Brian was in a rock band. He seemed so reserved and preforming in front of a crowd did not seem like his kind of thing.

               “Yeah, he’s really good. Plays guitar,” Roger told you, turning back to his paper. “Now help me with number 6.”

               “What about me makes you think I can help you with that?” you chuckled, leaning over to look at the reaction on the paper. He laughed and shook his head, beginning to scribble out a hexagon. “My hexagons are much better than that.”

For the earth to circulate, she needs the moon, and for the moon to have an orbit, he needs the earth.

Tuesday night, you found yourself in the library as always. Tonight, you were studying profusely for your Histology class. Yes, the class was interesting but that didn’t make it any less a pain in the ass. But tonight, was different; Brian wasn’t there. 5 minutes into your study sesh, you’d noticed his absence but brushed it off. 30 minutes in, you began to worry. An hour in, you were thrown off. You were so used to having his presence across from you that you were finding it physically hard to concentrate.

You stared at the open textbook, trying to will yourself to read, but just found yourself rereading the same paragraph over and over again. You blew air quickly through you mouth, burying your hands in your hair.

               “You okay there?”

You looked around wildly, trying to find out where the voice came from. Your eyes fell on a saggy mop of hair, smiling sheepishly at you. In his hands where two cups of, what looked like, coffee. He glanced down at the coffee before placing one down next to you.

               “I didn’t know how you took it,” he admitted with a tight smile. “So, I hope you like cream and sugar.” He took his place diagonally from you and plucked his own textbook out of his bag.

               “Thank you… Brian.”

At that he smiled. A bright smile. Almost blinding in the dark lighting of the library. The realization that you knew his name was exciting to him though he didn’t quite know why. He just nodded shortly, turning to his book. A silence falling over the two of you. A kinder silence than the one you had put yourself in before. But you couldn’t help but glance over at him, staring at his complexion. The curve of his nose leading his eyes down to the paper before him, his sprawling fingers over the edge of the paper that at remnants of white finger nail polish on them.

               “I know your mate…” you said softly, dragging your eyes up to his. Surprisingly, they were already planted on you. “Roger… we have classes together.”

Brian blushed, a warm pink covering his pale cheeks as he nodded slightly.

               “He told me about you too,” he told you. “Kept insisting that you were –"

               “Your type?” you finished, your lips curling up into a grin. You scooted your chair a little closer to his as you grew more comfortable with conversation, your feet almost touching under the table. “He told me the same thing earlier today. Right after he told me you were in a band with him.”

If you though he was pink before, this was something else. His whole face, from his neck to his forehead, turned a bright shade of red as he began to stutter.

               “Oh well—it’s nothing special—I just—in my spare time—”

You reached out and placed your hand on top of his. “Brian, it’s okay. I think it’s cool.”

You stared at each other for a moment. His eyes darted between you and your hand on top of his. You quickly realized exactly what you were doing, and pulled away your hand, placing it in your lap.

               “I just didn’t take you as the type,” you finished, looking down at the table.

He seemed frozen in close, still looking at where your hand had once been as you silently kicked yourself for your stupidity.

               “It’s just a hobby.” He shrugged, turning back to his textbook. Things were quiet after that. An odd tension that you’d never felt before settled over the room. And though the tension lingered, your concentration did not. You found yourself stuck in the same rut as before just this time, there was no one to blame but yourself.  Finally, you just had to say something. Something to ease the growing pressure in your chest.

               “Well, I’d like to see you play sometime,” you muttered, playing with your hair.

Brian looked back over at you, seemingly surprised that you had spoken up.

               “You… you would?” he questioned, cocking his head.

               “Uh, yeah,” you confirmed, finally looking back up at him. “Besides, I kinda owe Roger for helping me not fail Organic Chemistry”

Brian chuckled, picking at the nail polish on his nails.

               “I also owe Roger a few favors so I understand,” he agreed thoughtfully. “This Friday… we’re having a performance with our new bassist.”            

But sometimes, the Earth can’t see the moon; they become separated from each other.

                 “Oh my god! You like him!” Roger shouted, eyes widening quickly. 

You often grabbed lunch with Roger after your noon class and were currently sitting outside of a restaurant you frequented and across a plate of fries. You were retelling the events of the night before, the coffee, the hand touching, the awkward tension. Now, Roger was giggling like a school child who had just gotten in trouble with their teacher.

               “Why do I tell you these things?” you groaned, throwing a french fry at him.  He chuckled and knocked the fry away.

               “Okay, okay, okay, tell me what happened again,” he questioned, leaning forward to grab a fry. You glared at him and flopped your head down on the table in front of you. “Oh cheer up it’s not that bad. He’s smashed for you too.” You twisted your neck up so you were looking at him in disbelief. “I’m serious! He talks about his silly study buddy all the time!”

               “Don’t lie to me to make me feel better,” you mumbled, pulling the plate of fries closer to you. 

               “No, it’s cute. It’s really adorable,” he mused, smiling down at you. “You’re adorable.” He poked your nose. You scrunched your nose, blowing furiously through your nostrils.  You sat up and rested your chin on your hand tracing shapes into the condensation on your glass.

               “It’s literally the first time we’ve ever had a conversation,” you mumbled sadly. “And I blew it.”

Roger stared at you sympathetically, still munching on a french fry. 

               “I wouldn’t say blew it…” he started, causing you to look at him, hopefully. “Just, mildly… messed up.”

               “Why would you phrase your sentence that way!” You shouted in exasperation, flinging your hands wildly. “And with a pause in the middle!”

Roger’s grin dropped suddenly, his eyes widening as his focus shifted to something behind you. Then, his lips twisted into a playful smirk as he returned his gaze to you.

               “Don’t look now but Lover Boy is standing right behind you,” he snickered, nodding his head to the right.

You whirled around in your seat, turning to see Brian standing outside the door to the restaurant. You gaped, you eyes turning in saucers as you saw him. Of all the things that were going through your brain right now, this was not what you needed.

               “I told you not to look,” Roger sneered, hitting you arm. You looked over your shoulder and glared at him. “I’ll call him over here, you two can sort this out yourselves.”

               “Roger, wait, don’t-”

But he never did, he just sat there staring at where Brian was,the playfulness leaving his eyes. He grabbed your hand and stood up quickly, starting to drag you in the opposite direction.

               “Roger, what are you doing.” You yanked your hand out of his and stood walking 

               “Let’s just leave. C’mon you’ll see him tomorrow,” he insisted, trying to grab at your hand again.

               “Roger, what’s wrong?” You started to turn around but Roger grabbed your shoulders and prevented you. “Roger, let go of me.”

               “It’s nothing, just please… don’t turn around.” He seemed so sincere. His big blue eyes were laced with concern and you were confused. He let go of you and you turned around. There was Brian, standing now with another girl, she laughed at something he said before she reached up and kissed his cheek. That’s when your heart broke. 

               “Oh.”

You didn’t realize exactly how much you had fallen for him until you saw that. It hurt… a lot. You found yourself struggling for words or some real reaction other than ‘oh’. Then you felt a tear roll down your cheek. You didn’t even know you had teared up, and now you felt the entire force of sadness hit you. 

               “(Y/N), I’m sorry-- I don’t even know who that is-- maybe there’s--”

“Please Roger I just want to go somewhere else,” you choked out, tearing your eyes away from Brian and the girl.

Roger nodded and began to lead you towards his car.

But no matter what, the Earth and the Moon always make their way back to each other

 Why you were standing in the back of a damp pub on a Friday night you didn’t even know. Somehow, 

Roger had convinced you to come and hear Brian’s side of the story, promising that he wouldn’t leave your side all night. Reluctantly you agreed because you really did want to know how they sounded. Unsurprisingly, they were great. Especially Brian. Seeing him up there was unbelievable. It was like he was a different person. His fingers flitted so seamlessly across the fretboard over his beautiful guitar. 

Roger was brilliant too, of course. And as per his promise, as soon as the concert ended he was by your side. Much to the dismay of a few girls but you knew he wasn’t super interested in that. He never had a dry spell but he also wasn’t one to give it away to anyone who asked.  

               “Well, what’d you think?” he shouted over the noise of the pub.  

               “That was amazing, Roger!” You threw your arms around him, laughing happily. You moved to pull away but before you could, Roger pulled you closer and held you close to his body.  

               “Bri’s staring,” he murmured in your ear before pulling back. You glanced over your shoulder and met the pair of hazel eyes watching you. You felt your chest start to swell with emotion and you tore your gaze away, back to Roger. 

               “You alright?” He asked, concern lacing his features. You nodded, not quite trusting yourself to speak just yet. “You sure?” He placed a hand on your arm, brushing it up and down to soothe you. 

               “Yep, yeah, I’m good, “you replied quickly, closing your eyes for a moment. Then you opened them, determined. “I just need a drink.” 

               “That I can get you.” Roger smirked, pulling you towards the bar. And, as per promise, he rarely left your side. The occasional fan or girl would come up to speak with him and he would amuse them for a time but then always turn back to you.   

You were introduced to Freddie Bulsara (Mercury?) and John Deacon, the other two members of the band. Roger told you how John was finishing his trial run tonight and seemed to be a good fit for the band. Freddie immediately complemented you on your outfit and demanded you come visit him and Roger at their retail shop in Kensington.

You were beginning to think you’d be able to get through the night without having to face Brian and you were perfectly okay with that. But then Roger left to use the bathroom. Leaving you alone at the bar.

           “I feel like you been avoiding me.”

His voice made you flinch. You whirled around quickly, looking up at him. You let out a nervous laugh, rubbing the back of your neck.

           “That’s crazy… sorry about that,” you offered, trying to back away.

           “I’m glad you came, I actually wanted to ask you something—” The rest of his sentence was cut off by a man walking between the two of you, earning a glare from the both of you.

           “Sorry I didn’t hear you, Brian.” You shook your head, feeling a body bump you forward, towards him. “I should probably find Roger he’ll be—”

           “Are you and him… ya know…”

           “Oh, no. He’s just my—”

Again, another body walked in between the two of you. You huffed and took a step back, when did this pub get so busy?

           “Is your girlfriend here?” You asked, leaning in slightly.

Brian’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “Girlfriend? I don’t have a girlfriend.”

Now it was your turn to be confused. “But Roger and I saw you at—”

Both of you groaned as yet another person moved through your conversation and Brian finally placed an arm on your shoulder, guiding you to the side.

           “I- I don’t have a girlfriend,” he repeated, looking at his feet.

           “Oh,” was all you said. All the pent-up emotion and anger you had dissipated. The ever-present squeezing of your head that had grown over the past few days started to loosen.

           “I actually… um…” he cleared his throat. “I was wonder… uh”

           “Yes?” you pressed, tapping your foot.

           “Iwaswonderingifyoumightwanttogooutwithme,” he rushed. It was so quick you almost didn’t understand him. But when you finally processed what had been said your eyes widened. You started shaking your head adamantly. Brian began to panic his eyes darting around fearfully. “I’m sorry that was out of place I shouldn’t have—”

           “Brian you can’t like me. There’s nothing… there’s nothing… I’m nothing…” you were struggling to process this. All the feelings you harbored for Brian were reciprocated. All the scenarios you’d thought up, this had never been one. “I’m nothing.”

           “Nothing?” he echoed, leaning back slightly.

           “Yeah, I’m just the girl who sits across from you in the library,” you sputtered. “And you’re Brian. Brian with the frizzy hair that he tries, and fails, to straighten. Brian with the pretty Hazel eyes that look so bright on his pale skin. Brian who chews on his pencil. Brian who likes pretzels. Brian who doesn’t even know I exist outside of the library.” You took a step back and shook your head again. “I just don’t believe you.”

Brian took a step towards you again, his eyes considering your words. There it was again. The tension. The tension from the library the other night. And this time it was magnetic. Brian leaned down and you found yourself leaning towards him.

           “May I kiss you?” he muttered, reaching up to brush back your hair, cupping your cheek in the process. You nodded, wanting nothing more. His lips were soft, like a pillow. He moved slowly against you, parting your lips with a nudge of his tongue. Your heart was imploding and there was nothing you could do but wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him down closer to you. Finally, you broke apart, panting for breath as you try and grasp what just happened. Brian rested his head against your forehead, looking into your eyes so passionately. “You are so much more than the girl from the library.” He breathed out a laughed. “You’re so gorgeous, even on your busiest days you still look so beautiful. You’re so intelligent even though your think you aren’t. You’re kind to every person you meet, even if you just met them. I know you give pretzels to people you barely know because their stomach is making whale noises.” You giggled, your face flushing. “Please, tell me you understand how much you’ve enchanted me.”

Because the entire time the Earth was watching the Moon, the Moon was watching the Earth.

           “Yeah, I do,” you replied.

What happens when the Earth falls in love with the Moon?

           “Then you’ll let me kiss you again?” He mused, smiling.

The Earth will continue to spin and the Moon continue to watch.

           “Yes.” You smirked, pressing up to press your lips to his.

But the Moon will shine a little brighter, lighting up the Earth with every night they’re together.

[hoodlessmads]

Bloom Into You Ch. 44

Me, a young naive aspec person: *reads/watches bloom into you for the first time* wow what a lovely sweet understated romanc— 

Bloom Into You Chapter 44: *porn*

Me: okay then

lol I love how you can’t even post screencaps of half the new Bloom Into You chapter on tumblr because its nsfw. *Drake voice* Started from the bottom now we here…

I’m in the minority in that I didn’t want to see…like any of it. If Nakatani had cut straight from Yuu saying, “Here I go,” to the next morning, I would have been fine, honestly. At first when it happened I was pretty shocked and icked out because like minors and also they’re like my children lowkey and I saw things I never wanted or needed to see. Only one gif could adequately describe my mood at the time.

But I’m glad for all of y’all thirsty ass motherfuckers because Nakatani literally went to her editor like

Except maybe make that “the guys,” considering who the target audience is for Dengeki Daioh.  Except when her audience is actually the gays. In that case it was definitely give the gays everything they want.

The morning after was really cute, but most of what I liked about this chapter was before the sex scene. We finally brought Mio’s dead ass rolling in her grave back to a topic of conversation. It was something. I’ll take it. And Touko…god she’s such a dunce. Yuu truly is a morosexual, and that’s official. The whole scene where Touko was innocently like, “You keep saying we’re girlfriends and lovers, but personally I don’t want to put a label on it,” I was literally like, “ToUko im BREaKinG out in HIVeS BEcauSe of yOU.” Understandably, Yuu was nervously kinda like, “Um…why?” Touko barely saved herself from ruin by saying some shit like, “Oh, we definitely are girlfriends and lovers and all that, but since our relationship is going to change so much over time, I don’t feel like giving it a name, I’d rather us just be me and Yuu (haha get it because you).” Which is like,,,pretty dumb, but everyone in this world has their trash, and Touko Nanami is mine. It is actually incredibly sweet that she also views her relationship with Yuu in the long-term, and never once thought otherwise. Anyway, Touko basically waves around her character arc and her newfound peace of mind, like, “Love changes, relationships change. Isn’t that awesome?” and then from that draws the conclusion that the only thing that won’t change is “her and Yuu,” so she doesn’t want to give their relationship any labels which she deems transient and fleeting? Wait…?

Literally Yuu in this chapter in that one panel: Senpai no baka *already taking off her clothes* God Touko you are so fucking stupid

One of the best lines in the whole chapter, to me, ironically happens during the sex scene that I’m not so fond of. I’m basing this off the translation by Sogeking on reddit since I didn’t have the time/energy to decipher all that Japanese text, at least not for that scene. I’ll breeze past the part where Touko is like, “Will you think of us as [Yuu and Touko] too for me?” because we don’t have the time to get into that bullshit today, Touko.

The part where Yuu says, “Because I thought that I wanted to become a version of myself that was capable of falling in love with someone, I ended up becoming just that. That’s why, from here on out as well, I’ll be able to choose for myself. My ‘love’ is one that I’ve chosen for myself. I want go on loving you.”

That. THAT. That’s the tea. The fucking yaGaTe. That’s one of the main reasons I fell for this story so hard, distilled into a couple lines right there.

“I wanted to become X version of myself. I decided that. And that’s who I became.” My dissatisfaction with the past few chapters aside, Nakatani had written herself into a place where she could have easily slapped some fanservice on the tail end of this manga and called it Good. She could have just left it at the fact that Yuu is gay as fuck (she is) and never said a word about how uncertain she was at the beginning ever again. Never mentioned it.

But this line, to me, explicitly acknowledges the fact that Yuu is aspec. Explicitly acknowledges it. Right in the middle of banging her girlfriend. So how about that. Yuu herself definitively states that this is not a story of “first love,” it’s a story about self-discovery. (Besides, “first love” implies there will be others and ya girls themselves have already decided that they’re endgame.)

You will eventually become you.

Anyway, the final chapter of this manga comes out (for us in the west) on my birthday. That’s poetic. I’m sad but ready to read what I hope is an excellent concluding chapter. It’ll probably give us some kind of timeskip, and that…that fascinates me. Sigh, I just hope it’s good.

This manga meant a lot to me and my personal development in the past six months. This series isn’t anywhere near perfect, but damn if it hasn’t been a ride just in my relatively short time being a fan. The story and its characters are very near and dear to my heart. I’m not completely satisfied with the way things have gone in the past few chapters just on a personal level–I would have preferred more introspective character stuff than, like, a sex scene, but I still think this series is quite special in many ways and I adore it.

I’m still not a hundred percent sure how I feel about the handling of the sex scene itself. Like some panels/pages were tastefully handled, I felt, some of it was understated enough for me and actually quite cute, like basically all of page 29 where their conversation is being narrated over those images of Touko getting all squirrel-y that Yuu isn’t also taking her clothes off, that shit was cute, some of the other stuff was cute. And then other pages were just kind of…a bit too much for me and felt a bit too voyeuristic for comfort (and more voyeuristic than this series has ever been) and I didn’t really need it. But for those of you who were super pleased by it and think that it was handled tastefully–power to you. Y’all deserve it.

Edit: i should have mentioned this already but I’m actually really proud of Yuu in this chapter. She WENT for it. She knew exactly what she wanted and she got it. She went there for one reason and that was to smash.

[abnormalpsychology]

The Bully (part one)

[HAPPY VALENTINES DAY EVERYONE! Ya boi is excited bc I’m uploading my first-ever fanfic!! @joshua-rush-fanpage I hope you like it! This is part of the Valentines Day Friendom Gift Exchange. I wrote quite a lot more than I expected to, so the tag #myfanfic on here will be where you can find the rest uploaded later today. Sorry about the spacing errors— I originally wrote this in a google doc and Tumblr was being weird when I tried to fix them. I really really hope you like it! The first part is utter shit as a warning but it gets better!!! Hopefully I write more stuff soon, but here’s a little GHC to warm your hearts for now. I can’t believe I’m leaving a long, shitty, Wattpad-ass Author’s Note for the whole world to see but here we fuckin’ are. I also did not think I was the Soulmate AU type, but ALSO here we fuckin’ are. Meme mutuals please don’t think I’m lame I PROMISE IM COOL UwU. Have a lovely day even if you don’t read anything besides my ramblings. Thanks for making a community where I feel brave enough to finally post some writing I’ve worked hard on. I’m very grateful. <3 @swingsetboys Thanks so much for arranging this.]

Kids normally started thinking about their soulmates and deciphering their marks once they got their first crush, but Cyrus Goodman was different. He’d been worried about love all of his life, and the more he thought, the less sense it made. Trusting fate was generally put forward as the best way to deal with soulmate-related issues, at least before you met them, but Cyrus was finding that trusting fate was remarkably more difficult than all of the online articles and books in his parents’ offices made it sound. He wondered sometimes if he maybe was the universe’s first-ever mistake, a legendarily big screw-up, and this was a concern that was difficult to express without simultaneously concerning everyone else around him.

Cyrus’ mark was in what he had decided was the worst possible place it could be— his back. Two solid pitch-black handprints were indented into his skin so he had to twist around in the mirror to even glimpse the peculiar birthmark, like a two-year-old’s art project smushed across his skin or a crude frat party drawing etched on during a hangover was supposed represent his hope for the future and the person he was supposed to love more than anything. He’d always felt weird about it. The question that was tied most to it, the great white whale, the million-dollar-Jeopardy one, was what the situation could possibly be that would cause the mark to light up, to fill with color, when it made contact with his future spouse’s skin.

They’re gonna... push me? It was still, after years of contemplation and stomachaches, the best theory he had. The first way the person he was supposed to find eternal happiness with was by them trying to hurt him. That sure didn’t sound like love to him.

How would he make them angry? What would he do wrong?

The thought was his shadow, and the more he thought about it, the more confused he was. He didn’t want to make them angry, though! He wanted the person he was destined to spend the rest of his days with to like him right off the bat. He wanted the happy ending that everyone got.

“It’s fate,” Buffy had said and shrugged at their final summer sleepover before seventh grade began. “I mean, you can’t do anything to change it, Cy. I’m pretty sure you can’t fool the system by covering it with a tattoo. Since you always try to be as nice as possible anyway, I think you’re doing all you can.”

“Yeah.” He squinted. Maybe I’m just not good enough at being nice.

Buffy rolled her eyes, seeing through his words. “Cyrus. You really need to stop forgetting how cool you are. It’s annoying.”

“Thanks, Buffy, I just hope my soulmate understands my annoying… ness.”

“That was a joke—“

He gasped, shooting up with wide eyes. “What if I annoy them too much and that’s why they push me? What if I’m the one who ruins it?”

“Cyrus, I’m fairly certain that you would never be destined to spend your life with a total jerk. You may be weird, but that’s why soulmates love us, dummy. That’s why we love you.”

The two exchanged a smile, and Buffy reached around to squeeze his hand with her comforting smile.

“You’ll know when you see them anyway, because that’s like the whole thing. So… I don’t know. Maybe the push will be an accident or something. If it helps, I’ll personally remove the toenails if anyone who messes with you.”

“Well, I think,” Andi interjected like the voice of God from above, staring at the pair from her position of power on Cyrus’ couch. “You should stop worrying about something completely inevitable. It’s coming, like it or not.”

The boy let out a yelp and rubbed furiously at the goosebumps blooming on his skinny arms. “You didn’t have to phrase it like that, Andi!”

“Seriously,” Buffy agreed, eyes wide and unfocused. “Yikes.”

“It shouldn’t be scary. You two should really trust yourselves more. Future us will all make good decisions, I’m sure of it. Mostly. Probably.”

She leaned over to look down at her two best friends, reduced to frightened messes at the thought of someone who loved them, and deeply did not understand.

“I trust future Andi, at least. You two are weird.”

She stuck a bookmark made of old newspapers into the John Green book she was skimming, one of Bex’s favorites. She’d explained earlier about how since her older sister would be coming to visit her for the first time in practically forever, she had better know something about what she liked. Although from her various annoyed growls that echoed from above every once in a while, her friends could tell Andi’s tastes maybe differed from the latter’s.

“Real life isn’t that dramatic! Certainly isn’t as dramatic as this Augustus”—she gesticulated to the paperback copy—“thinks it is! What’s even going on in this book?”

She wrinkled her nose in disgust, setting the book down by the lamp.

“Yeah, whatever.” Buffy turned to look doubtfully over her left shoulder at her other best friend, from the spot on the calming maroon carpet where Cyrus was French-braiding her curls. “If you think all this soulmate crap will be totally drama-free, all relaxation and games, Andi, you’re kidding yourself. And it’s middle school.”

“You might want to rethink your position here,” agreed Cyrus, twirling a lock dastardly between his fingers.

A beeping sound came from the kitchen as butter filled the warm air, clashing with the rosy scent of the aromatherapy stuff Celia insisted on spraying everywhere before anyone else entered the house, even though it was just Buffy and Cyrus. They’re very well-behaved, Andi would always say, even though one was now swatting like a kitten at the other. True friendship.

“Stop that! Grow your own facial hair so you can stop using mine!”

“Low blow,” Andi commented.

“Never!” He fell backwards onto the carpet with a grunt as she attacked him with her fringe scarf, smacking her opponent with swift malice. Andi got up to go get their popcorn from the microwave, hopping easily over the destructive swarm of thrashing limbs on her floor.

The two broke apart, close to the door now. Like wrestlers, the kids sprinted to either corner of the room.

“Every time! This is why I don’t let you braid my hair, Cyrus!”

“You underestimate me! Now I have a secret weapon!”

A shadow rushed forward and cackled menacingly, a beautifully stitched pillow in shades of pink and red held aloft to decimate his friend.

“No! Bad Cyrus!” Andi scolded from the kitchen. “I made that for Bex!”

“This isn’t a Western!” Buffy yelled, hands up in surrender. “You aren’t going to tie Andi to the train tracks, no more!”

Cyrus pouted mutely, savoring the power, then conceded mercifully. “Ohhh-kay.”

“Maybe that’s why your soulmate will push you,” Buffy laughed. “You attack them, viciously, in a war of pillows.”

His face fell again, the weight of worry and insecurities returning instantly.

“Dammit.” Buffy sighed. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine. Maybe I will... I’d demolish them, anyway.”

The three collapsed onto the couch together once Andi returned, mutely chewing their popcorn, their feathery Cold War forgotten. They could still hear cicadas outside. It didn’t quite feel like school yet, and something about that made the night seem more important, more meaningful, and made them all the more grateful for the other people who they felt like they could tell anything.

“Soulmates are weird to think about, though,” Andi added. “I mean, it’s not something you can teach in school or anything. How one person is made for another. I think it’s pretty crazy. Although I bet Augustus and Hazel would disagree.”

“Yeah, love’s simple until you think about— like— what if they die before you meet them?” Cyrus said, the years’ worth of anxiety seeping into his words. “Assuming it isn’t a fate thing. What if you’re the first one to prove it wrong? Or… you don’t know if you like that type of person?”

“Well,” Buffy chimed in, shrugging. “I mean, people always do, so…”

The trio fell quiet.

���Like soulmates or not, we can agree the marks are freaky as hell?”

“Absolutely.”

“At least you don’t have your mark in as weird a place as me.”

“Buffs, yours is on your hand. That’s not that weird.” Cyrus reached over her back to lightly touch the white splash of color across her right palm, and she jerked it away fast as if she was scared of it going off like a bomb. “High-fives happen all the time.”

“I know, but why would future me let anyone touch my hand? That’s not allowed!” She shivered dramatically. “Ugh. Can you imagine me all… stupid and love-struck? That would be remarkably awful.”

“Middle school,” Cyrus said, nodding sagely. “It changes all who experience it.”

“Well,” Andi whispered, suddenly solemn. “I guess we’ll find out if it changes us too.”

“Guess we gotta trust that the Future Good Hair Trio will make good choices. Soulmates or otherwise.”

The three looked around.

“At least we’ll have each other. No matter who comes, we’ll at least have each other.”

[distractedfanatic]

Grey’s Talk + Real Talk

This delves into mental illness and it also discusses spoilers for Grey’s Anatomy 15x16. 

Under cut for sensitivity and spoilers. This is also stupid (STUPID) long and I’m sorry but I needed to say it. Hopefully it finds the people who need to read it. 💗

[but seriously, it’s long]

Deluca’s Dad storyline was harder for me than I expected. And not for the reasons I thought. It was hard because I expected to be more conflicted and I felt guilty for how passionately sure I was about my reactions. I also feel that my strong (negative) opinions merit some explanation. Specifically, because my issue is not with his mental illness, but with the behaviour even (and especially) from the lens of mental illness. My possibly controversial stance is that mental illness is not an excuse. It’s a reason or perhaps an explanation, but it is not an excuse for treating people badly, for alienating people or for neglecting self-work and certainly not for abusive behaviour to people trying to help and support (and I know sometimes this is impossible. I get that.) But I do think Andrew’s Dad was manipulating him and it broke my heart to see Carina’s pain in this episode - give that woman a hug!

[Digression into some context building on my opinion....]

Mental illness is close to my life. It’s a personal struggle and journey for me and it is an active, constant, often painful commitment to remaining accountable for my actions and my relationships. It’s not easy, and it’s really not fair, BUT it’s my truth and I believe in the power of leading by example. So I don’t say it lightly that I believe mental illness is not an excuse and I believe I must out myself in order to take that stance. I cannot always control what I think or feel or even how I act. But I can control how I react to it after, how I approach damage control, how much accountability I take and how much power I give mental illness in exchange for wiping my hands of its destruction. 

My easy days are what some would consider their hardest. It’s all on a spectrum. My reality allows me to see both sides clearer because I have such a stark comparison between good and bad, up and down. I refuse to give mental illness credit for the absolute beauty and gratitude I have for my life and my good days, so why would I blame it fully for my bad days. Giving an illness I did not ask for and cannot control, the power of saying it makes me who I am or it dictates my quality of connections is not worth it to me to be able to surrender to it and hide behind it and I owe it to myself and everyone else to embrace it and understand it so it does not control me. I do name it. I do speak it - but how that looks for me is not rooted in shame or manipulation, it comes from a place of honesty. Of “I’m not okay today and I can’t have this conversation”. Of “I wasn’t myself and I’m doing the very best I can”. I feel the responsibility I carry as a result of mental illness and I have deep respect for anyone who is doing their best - whatever that looks like. And I draw the line at painting myself a victim - it is a disservice to the honest to god work it takes to be a human with a mental illness in a world still not built for us. And these stories on Grey’s about parents with mental illness are tough for me because I recognize that I’m in the drivers seat and should I decide to raise kids I will need to hold myself even more accountable because the cards I’ve been dealt cannot be any child’s burden. But I also appreciate this is a deeply personal topic and I respect that other people may disagree - that is their right. This is simply my own truth.

[Back to Grey’s….]

When mental illness is depicted on TV that’s always risky. (Shout out to You’re the Worst and A Million Little Things for getting a lot of stuff right and being self-aware). My personal experience is also why I have SUCH a soft spot for Helen (or at least, the season 15 version of her). I’m so proud of her, if that makes sense. I’m happy for Alex to have this time with her as her best self, and I’m proud of her. I loved how in 15x15 they played with the audience and Alex’s perception of what mental illness looks like and what stability looks like.

It is a struggle to accurately portray these topics because it’s a struggle to actually live them, or to watch loved ones live them. On TV and in life, it’s hard to balance a fear that you or your loved one isn’t okay, but also be open that they are not defined by their illness and that it can (hopefully) be managed (by meds, therapy, alternative options, or a combination). That they are a person that is bigger than any illness. And the cruelty is that “okay” and “not okay” can look so very similar.

So in Helen’s situation the bar was set low for Alex and he’s seeing that she is doing okay, so maybe he can stop looking at her as someone to take care of and focus on building a relationship. Andrew is doing the same, in theory - even if I think his motivations are influenced by other factors. But I do think Helen and Dr. Deluca will be foils to each other here. Both struggle with mental illness, both have sons deeply impacted as a result. But are the outcomes going to be different?

But also, has Helen primed us to expect that he will be opposite. If she is stable, do we automatically expect him not to be? We do have it on good authority (Carina) that he isn’t as okay as he seems. How much are they playing with our perceptions and misconceptions about mental illness? I don’t know that. I also don’t know Dr. Deluca enough to know what his personality is. He does come across as quite intense from the get go - but I don’t want to unfairly assume this is nearing manic territory, when it could just be who he is: a passionate, excited doctor and father who may be a bit tone deaf as to the impact he’s had on his family. My gut feeling is he is not okay. Carina tells us he is not okay. Everything. EVERYTHING about her in this episode exudes pain and exhaustion and proof of how not okay he really is and how she is shouldering that burden - more so with Andrew not open to seeing her side.

Now, regarding the conversation between Deluca and his Dad - that I personally feel fueled Andrew’s desire to take his Dad’s side… As it was happening I wasn’t convinced he would go down that rabbit hole. So I’m kind of disappointed that’s what seems to have happened. But there was a very key connection that tells me this was intentional - and if that’s the case, it is a larger theme that needs to be explored between him and Mer.

In 15x12 when he’s getting frustrated with her hot and cold he says (I’m paraphrasing my ass off here) [“I thought you were so BEYOND me. But you’re not. You’re like a child”] -- say what you will about the validity or appropriateness of those comments. But he was tuning into a real feeling he was having and naming that he had felt undeserving of her, at least in part. He was giving us a window into an insecurity he may not even be fully aware of.

SO. To see his Dad echo that to the letter was very interesting: 

VD - “I see you... but this woman of yours, she is beyond you.”

AD - “Wow... Thank you”

VD - “Andrea, even I have heard of Meredith Grey, all the way back home. She’s more than a beauty, she is brilliant.

AD - “Yeah, I’m aware”

VD - “So... then... we change the word together! We save the babies!”

If I’m correct in how intentional this was, then I 100% believe Deluca got hijacked by this nagging insecurity and is going full speed ahead, not only because he wants to give his Dad a chance or believes he is truly stable enough for this project (which may be true for all we know). But an additional, and perhaps more powerful motivator for Andrew is that if he can be part of medical history then he can meet Mer on the pedestal he has put her on - subconsciously or not.

My disclaimer to all this is that I do believe he is confident, and I’m aware he went after her first. But you can be confident and sure of an attraction and still insecure. You can be open to love and still be intimidated. He can feel all the things. I think the trouble will be if he is unaware that he is feeling them and therefore does not deal with them. And finally, if this is an issue that surfaces, and it’s not addressed, it could breed resentment and frustration on both ends - I do not want Mer taking this on as her own because she is not lording her power over him and in fact, she was concerned about that dynamic because she understands how hard it can be. My hope is that she recognizes it and can reassure him and he will find some solid footing in their relationship and with his Dad. If I didn’t love them so hard and love him so hard I’d probably enjoy seeing him all innocent and vulnerable, but I’m just scared he’s opening himself up to be heartbroken by his Dad. And I’m not sure I can handle that. haha. Finger crossed no matter what happens with the Deluca famjam, it only serves to bring Merluca closer. 🤞💗

I’m fascinated by where they could take all this. I’m cautiously optimistic that even if it goes sideways, they can still offer some valuable commentary on mental illness and the stigma around it.

I’m so excited to see the reactions from the rest of the fandom!

Sorry this got so real (and SO long). I just couldn’t talk about this episode without going into what is informing my thoughts. Talking about mental illness and mental health matters, and if my openness resonates with just one person, that’s enough. Everyone has light inside and it’s okay not to be okay. And for everyone else fighting this monster, and doing the very best to be your very best: I see you. You are not alone. 💗

[notanotherlovepage]

LiS fanfic

Hey guys! So, long story short, i did a fanfiction inspired on this post. Hope you guys like it!

MAXINE - 12 YEARS OLD

Today was particularly a sunny, beautiful day. Ninety degrees outside, midst August and every color seemed to be intensified. The leaves on the trees were greener, the sky was bluer and the butterflies shined with their brightest colors.

I resented my mom for having me put a long-sleeved shirt on, and i envied Chloe for her obviously lighter -and prettier- one. Besides, it was embarassing having two big spots of sweat covering my armpits. But i didn’t care. Not if it was my best friend in the whole world next to me. She wouldn’t judge me.

-Come on, Max! Hurry!- I heard Chloe shout. She was some solid 15 feets ahead of me. We were heading towards the big tree. That’s where we hid our time capsule. It was a centric, giant tree placed in the Arcadia Bay forest. It was our place. The place we told eachother every secret, gossip and deepest confessions. And now we were going to dig out the capsule we hid 5 years ago.

We were actually cheating; we promised ourselves we would only see it 10 years after the day we buried it. That would be at age eighteen. When we were eight years old, we decided to make our friendship last forever in the coolest way. We hid a bunch of letters, drawings and others stuff for us to see later on. That way we were forced to come back from wherever we were and join pirate forces to dig out the most awesome treasure ever. But we couldn’t help it. Neither of us remembered what we put in there and we were dying to know.

-This is so wrong but feels so right- i said chuckling, already catching up with Chloe.

-I know, right?! - She said, clearly excited, doing that adorable bouncing she does when she’s hyped up. Chloe was particularly... pretty today. Her long, blond hair was shinning, as if it belonged to some shampoo comercial, waving synchronized with the wind. She always grew these funny freckles all over her nose and cheeks every summer, which made her look like a model, and her blue eyes shined amazingly bright, reflecting the sunlight. Sometimes i didn’t know if it was jealousy i felt every time i looked at her, or just pure... admiration. Whatever it was, it always felt just right.

-Okay, we’re here,- Chloe said- let’s just cut the crap and see whatever in the world is there.

I realized i was stupidly nervous by the whole thing. My heart was rapidly pounding in my chest and my hands were sweating, but i didn’t care. It was the good kind of nervous.

-I’m actually really nervous- Chloe said, as if she had read my mind.

-Dude, me too- I responded, with an akward laugh.

-Let’s do this- Chloe picked the shovels next to her and handed me one- Now, you lazy ass, show me watcha’ got.

MAXINE - 18 YEARS OLD

-Okay...-I breathed out- let’s do this.

I was sitting in my dorm bed at Blackwell, looking at a photo I had forgotten it even existed. Actually, i had deleted the entire day in which the photo was taken from my brain, although it was kind of a “big deal”. It was the day Chloe and i buried the time-capsule.

It had been two weeks since Chloe’s funeral. Jefferson was in jail, Nathan was in a psychiatric hospital, with a restriction order to keep his asshole father away from him, and Kate and Victoria were alive. Everything had fallen into place. Every piece of this life puzzle was starting to click again.

Except for me.

This wasn’t like any cringy, sugarcoated movie i had ever watched before. This wasn’t some tragic novel about life being a bitch. This wasn’t like anything i had ever heard or seen. This was so much worse.

The first three days i was in denial. I never actually stopped to think Chloe’s death was forever. I was like a zombie, or in autopilot mode. I even smiled an laughed. I just couldn’t accept it.

But one day i went to the Two Whales, and found myself having my pancakes all alone, and i didn’t see Joyce there because from what David told me, she couldn’t get out of bed, and there was barely any client there because the fucking place smelled like tragedy and pain. And then it hit me.

Chloe is dead.

I never knew it was possible to feel this kind of pain and not die. Or have a heart attack. Or just for nothing to occur. I just felt this horrible sensation, all the goddamn time, but nothing else seemed to happen. There was just pain and the only thing i had left to do was feel it.

I mean, pain is supposed to be some kind of body mechanism to warn you about danger. If you accidentally fall from a tree and break your arm or cut your leg your body makes you feel pain, so you know something is not right with you and you should take care of it. But suddenly your best friend and soulmate in the fucking world dies and you feel this unbearable pain in your chest, way worse than a fucking broken arm, and you would give anything for that so called god everyone assures it exists to just break every single bone in your body if it meant not feeling this, and everything feels so wrong and you feel like you are going to die all the time but the worst part is you don’t, and you are expected to just get over it? How can this kind of pain not mean im in danger? That i’m not going to just stop breathing anytime? How can physical pain mean so much while emotional pain just means you suffered a stupid trauma that you can get through? That nothing is actually wrong? That the love of your life died but you will be ‘just fine’? How can people say that what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger?

Because to me, what doesn’t kill you makes you wish it fucking did.

Sitting at the dinner, thinking all of this in one goddamn second, as if a brainstorm had just hit my head, made me realize; i was not living in a world without Chloe. Either both of us lived here... or both of us went up there.

I suddenly understood Kate so much more once i started planning it. See, if you don’t live it, you don’t get it, it’s as simple as that. You just can’t understand what depression is like if you never went through it, no matter how hard you try. That’s what happened to me on the rooftop with Kate. As much as i tried, i was just not able to understand how could people consider taking their own lives. Isn’t there always hope? Always someone who loves you? Always something to live for?

Thing is, sometimes, there’s not.

It just hit me like a train. I didn’t even care. I couldn’t. It would destroy my parents, Kate, Warren, even Joyce, but i didn’t have the energy to give a fuck. I was so hopeless. Everything was so pointless. I really don’t know if it was depression i was suffering, but it sure as hell felt like it.

I had decided to binge on the pills the doctor gave me for Post Traumatic Disorder. I heard they were pretty strong, so i was pretty confident they would do the job. But then i saw the box Joyce gave me at the Two Whales, resting in the corner of my room; it was Chloe’s box, with every single memory she had ever owned. Pictures, letters, postcards, everything. I had put it away to rot; i just couldn’t look at it without falling into pieces. But at that moment, i figured i might as well see what was in there; i wanted my last memories to relive those of the love of my life.

I don’t remember crying like i did then in a long time, if not ever. I was pretty sure i was starting to dehidratate, and at some point, i even thought i was going to faint. There was that awful drawing i sent her when she had chickenpox. There was a silly love letter i remember her neighbour wrote her when we were ten years old. Chloe never liked him and after five letters like that with no response, he finally got the hint and never spoke to her again. But what shattered my heart the most was this pink sea shell. I found it on a beach in Playa del Carmen; my parents and i took a cruise for two weeks and i promised Chloe i would collect one for each day we spent apart, so she knew i wouldn’t  forget her. All of them eventually broke into pieces except for this one. I painted it with a cheap pink nail polish my mom used to own and gave it to her. We were seven years old. I never knew she would keep it to this day, it seemed so redundant and useless to me, but so meaningful to her...

I was not sure how much more i could take, but then, i found the photo. The time-capsule photo.

The memories suddenly hit me as a punch in the face. It was as if some kind of hipnosis suddenly unleashed from that picture to free the memories that had been so long repressed. I remember that our parents took us on a silly journey through the Arcadia Bay forest. It lasted 5 days. My mom absolutely hated camping in the ‘wilds’, but my father and William did a great job calming her down. One week earlier, Chloe and i decided to secretly bury a time capsule in which we hid some stuff to open up in ten years, which would ironically be this year, at age eighteen. But we opened it five years before, us being twelve, because we couldn’t help ourselves. We opened it two months before William passed away.. It was the last good moment we had until everything started falling apart for Chloe.

My parents took a picture Chloe and me in our pirate costumes, right before we went for the giant tree and hid the capsule. I don’t really remember what we hid in it, but it was probably silly. I’m actually glad we opened it up earlier. Today, it would only be some silly kid stuff.

I looked at the picture with a nostalgic, genuine smile, without realising i was crying again until some droplets hit the picture. But suddenly, one droplet fell on the wrong -or right?- place. And as i looked, i stood in shock.

-What... the hell?- i exclaimed. I frowned my eyebrows and rubbed my eyes to get a better view of the picture, and then, i saw it. It felt as if i was suddenly stang by a paralising bug. I couldn’t move. I couldn’t believe what i was seeing. It just felt as if the nightmare would never stop. I started sobbing and yelling. I was pulling my hair without realizing it. I didn’t give a crap of all the fuzz i was making. In the picture, right behind us, was a translucent doe, staring right at the camera, with a tiny beautiful blue butterfly resting in his snout.

After some minutes of pure desesperation and chaos, i decided to calm myself down. I was getting nowhere being like this. Fucking hell, a few minutes ago i was all ready to kill myself. What was going on with me? Was i hallucinating? Had i finally lost it? Was i officially crazy?

-Okay, Max. Calm the fuck down- I said out loud- Let’s think, what the hell does this mean?

As if my voice was like a ridiculous lullaby, i did calm down. I took a few breaths, and started to think.

First of all, if anything, this could be good news. If shit like this keeps happening after Chloe died, could this mean the universe was still not content with the outcome of things? Could this mean that life, or god, or what-fucking-ever did not want Chloe to die? Was Chloe not supposed to die?

A feeling i had not felt in two weeks, but seemed like forever, started growing in my chest. I was feeling hope. Hope that my best friend could maybe, just maybe, be brought back. Hope that i would be able to kiss my lover again. Hope that maybe, life was not as miserable as it seemed.

Calm down, Maxine. I thought to myself. This is still not clicking.

I spent some good hour going through all of it. Thinking of everything i could have missed. Every detail, every second i spent with Chloe. Every goddamn tragedy of that unholy week. What was i taking for granted? What was the universe trying to tell me? Was it even trying to tell me something? Was life just... weird?

And then it clicked. The puzzle clicked. That fucking piece found it’s place in all of this drama and everything suddenly made sense. All this time, i made everything revolve around me. It seems fair, as i am the one with a crazy fucking superpower. But what if it’s... not? What if it’s not about me? I may be one in a million, being able to control the fucking time, but the universe is sure as hell not only about my life, so... what if i am missing a detail because im not supposed to know that detail? What if it’s not my life i should change, but someone elses? What if i have been searching for the answer in that horrible week when in fact it came from... before?

What if it’s not Chloe that’s supposed to die? What if... it’s Rachel that’s supposed to live?

I realised i had been starring at the mirror with the picture in my hands all of the time i spent thinking. I almost saw the switch in my eyes as i finally made the decision; i would try to make things right one last time. After all, i had nothing left to lose.

I focused on the picture, sitting in my bed, as all the familiar but still weird-as-hell feelings started to hit once again; the pounding in my head, the blurr in my eyes, the sensation of passing out, the world menacing to tremble... and just like that, i was back in the forest.

MAXINE - 8 YEARS OLD

The first thing i did was to look for the doe and the butterfly. As i expected, they were not there. Being 12 years old at Chloe’s house, back when i tried to save William, was weird enough, but being eight felt so... wrong. I was an eighteen years old in the body of a little girl. I could actually feel the physical change; my hands and feet felt tinier, my skin felt softer, and it seemed to me that i was on my knees when i looked around, when in fact, i was just shorter.

-Max, sweetie, are you okay?- my mom asked. As there was no response, she continued- Come here baby, you look pale. Do you want some chocolate?- She turned to look at my father- What did i tell you, Ryan? This was such a bad idea, we shouldn’t have come.

-Wait, mommy! I’m okay!- I cringed at how high-pitched my voice was, but managed to fake a smile.

-Are you sure, baby?- Dad asked.

-Of course she’s okay! She’s a pirate! Right, Max?- I heard a little girl’s voice say. I knew exactly who that voice was from, but i needed to really see it. I just couldn’t start to even comprehend how lucky i was. To have the ability to see what i shouldn’t be seeing. To defy the universe, just like that. To be able to appreciate the existence of the love of my life as many times as i wanted to. To love her and be able to tell her again and again, without the fear of time running out. Because time meant nothing to me. I owned time, and it made me feel incredibly alive. It was so wrong but so right. And when i finally turned around to see her, i realized life was just fucking incredible for creating such amazing and lovable beings like her, no matter how temporary they were.

-Chloe!- I shouted, and ran to her embrace- You are my best friend, did you know that?

-Of course i do! We will rule the world with our swords and patches, right, Dad?!

-Sure thing darling. I believe in you two- William said with a soothing voice. Only then did i realize how much i had missed him. But i needed to calm my nostalgic self down. I had to start acting like an eight year old, and they were never really that great at showing mature feelings. Besides, it would be just plain weird to hug William out of the blue. Sadly, no one there but me knew how little time had he left- Okay girls, ready for the walk?- He said with a playful smile, letting go a tiny wink from his left eye. I understood this was the sign Chloe, William and i had agreed on to go bury the time-capsule- Everything ready?

-Yes dad!- Chloe shouted- Let me just get my backpack- She said, while turning back to head the tents.

-Wait! i need to go get something too- I jumped. I saw Chloe turning around to face us once again, this time with a frown. I guess we agreed at some time that she would get the capsule while i kept the adults busy- It will be just a second.

-Okay...- Chloe replied.

-What would you two be up to...- Joyce whispered suspiciously, with a grin on her face, shaking her head left and right. I followed Chloe to the tent and entered with her.

-Please tell me you brought some paper and crayons- I said nervously. My heart started to accelerate as my brain finally focused on my plan.

-Yeah... i think so. Why?- she asked, half curious, half worried.

-I just forgot something i wanted to draw.

-Okay, let me check- Chloe said, revolving her backpack, and then taking out what i had requested- You are being kind of weird.

-Don’t worry, it’s just a second- I replied- No peeking!- I said, smiling at her while hiding my paper so she couldn’t see. This time, the smile was genuine. I could never fake-smile that adorable face of hers, even if i tried.

And then she was the one to smile. A wide, playful smile, covered childishly by her tiny hands, followed by a girly, amazingly cute chuckle.

Suddenly, i was just overwhelmed by this relaxing but exciting feeling, as i started drawing my message to the future Max, in the hope that this time, she would remember it and be able to fix things from the very start. I just kind of knew that this time, things would turn out to be alright.

MAXINE - 12 YEARS OLD

-Oh my god, this is so cringy, i really dont know how much more i can take- I said, tears of laughter falling from my eyes.

-Dude, i know, i think i’m gonna throw up anytime now- Chloe responded, with her cheeks filled with an intense red, grabbing her tummy and gasping for air, trying to regain control of herself.

We had spent hours now checking everything out. We found two chocolate cookies that smelled awful, two drawings that looked exactly the same -probably both of us agreed to draw the same scenario- of Chloe and me dressed as pirates while navigating the sea, two coins, two bracelets, a pink one and a blue one, and so on. We also found letters we wrote to eachother, barely legibles, about how much we loved eachother and that how we would be the best pirate friends in the whole world, which made us gag on the outside but smile warmly on the inside. There were only two more letters to read, each one with our names respectively signed on them. We understood they were letters we wrote to our future selves. I picked them both and read them to myself.

-How about mine? What did I write?- Chloe asked, excited.

-You were really funny- I responded with a tiny chuckle. It said, written with a blue crayon; ‘Dear Chloe, if you are not dressed up as a pirate right now, and Max is right next to you, tell her to punch you. Love, Chloe’. It was just so incredible to know Chloe was, is and would always be this funny and sassy person. But the best of all, was knowing that this person would always be my best friend in the world, and i was gonna be hers. I handed it to her, and when she read it, she started to laugh like crazy. Joining her laugh, i picked my letter, and gave it a quick, uninterested look. But that was all it took to send a chill down my spine- Mine was so serious...- I let out, failing to keep the thought to myself.

-Well, yeah, that’s you- Chloe reasoned, when i lended it to her and she saw it, not giving it its spooky credit- Serious and genuine- She smiled.

-Yeah, i guess- I said, but was left more nervous and anxious than i was willing to admit.

-Okay, mom is totally gonna kill us- Chloe suddenly exclaimed, zonning me out from my thoughts- We told her we would be there by five! Its half past six! Shit, let’s hurry- She said, getting up to her feet and starting to pack our things.

I followed her lead and helped myself up with my hands on the ground, to start helping her pick up the stuff. Once we were finished, i decided to take one last look at my letter, in the hope that it wouldn’t seem so creepy once i re-checked it.

It was the drawing of a girl, apparently older than us, with long, blond hair, seemingly waving with a fictional wind. At first it thought it was just a drawing of Chloe, but her eyes were green, and she was not dressed like Chloe at all. She had a red flannel, a pair of teared up jeans and some black boots. Besides, Chloe never got her ears pierced, and this girl had a blue feather hanging from one of hers. I found it strange how my eight year old self could draw such a realistic girl. I was never that good with crayons.

But what made me skip a heart beat was what it said below the girl. It was a simple sentence in capitals but had enough impact on me. It said ‘SAVE HER’.

[androgynousstrangergarden-blog1]

First Post

So... Something needs to be my first post right? Might as well be a piece of writing I did almost three years ago when I was 16. At the time I thought this was amazing, I considered it the best piece of writing I’d ever done in fact.

Now? Yeah... Now I’m not so sure. I don’t think it’s terrible, but I definitely think my writing has improved a lot over this past three years.

What you’re about to read is completely unedited, exactly as it was written three years ago. Please don’t judge me too harshly! Although hopefully by the time anyone reads this there’ll be more recent pieces of original writing on this blog that you can compare this too

Someone’s throwing stones at Jacob’s bedroom window. He resolutely ignores it, eats another spoonful of ice cream, and turns the TV up. Another stone hits the window and this time there’s a loud crack as it hits the glass, and Jacob jerks his head up to check Daniel hasn’t actually broken the glass. 

"Go back to prom, Sam," he yells, loud enough for even the neighbours to hear. "I’m not sitting there alone like some loser while everyone else gets their freak on with someone."

Stupid damn prom. Jacob had been psyched, originally. He thought it’d finally be his chance to try and be more than friends with Daniel. To purvey his feelings. To shower Daniel with all the flowers in the universe and slow dance with him to Whitney Houston. Except, when he’d 'casually' thrown himself in front of Daniel’s locker earlier today, and declared they should go - For fun! As friends! Without Daniel being aware of all the glorious, romantic surprises Jacob had planned, obviously - Daniel’s face had scrunched up in apology. 

"I can’t," he’d said shortly. "Someone’s already asked."

"And, you - you said yes?"

Daniel had shrugged, slamming his locker shut, “No one else asked.”

"But, I’m asking! Right now!"

"I can’t tell him no," Daniel had given him a strange look, "Besides, it’s not a big deal, right? We can hang out there; still do all the stuff you wanted."

Jacob had been going to suggest awkward, first time, deeply romantic make outs behind the bleachers. But he’s not sure that’d go down too well considering Daniel is actually going with a date. A date. 

Daniel has a date for prom, and Jacob is sitting in his underwear watching The Notebook for the second time tonight. It’s still better than going and watching Daniel get hit on by some guy who was certainly going to be a lot hotter than he was. He couldn’t even bring himself to ask who it was, he just gave him a weak smile and trudged off to class. Daniel always sat next to him, normally, elbowed him, flicked back the notes and drawings Jacob passed to him with his own scrawls. Jacob has one of Daniel’s doodles stuck to his mirror, next to a picture of his family, a birthday card from his best friend Sam, and a postcard from his dad who was currently stationed in Syria; the important stuff. In that class, though, Daniel had chosen to sit by the window, staring out of it for most of the lesson. Jacob had been so distracted that he’d gotten himself detention, and not even cared. He’d spent the whole lesson writing Daniel a very indignant, ridiculously revealing letter, only to end up shoving it deep into his bag to burn at home. 

No time like the present he decides, rolling off the bed and beginning to search through his bag. 

It’s been two years of crushing on Daniel. Two years of crashing out together on the beach, arguing about pineapple on pizza (because yes it does it’s fucking delicious!), his other friends sighing exasperatedly as Jacob strikes up a conversation about Daniel, again. Sam rolling her eyes as... as she throws what sounds like a damn brick at his window. 

"Go away!" Jacob yells, "I’m fine!"

Why couldn’t he have just grown a pair and said something?! ‘Daniel, I’m pretty sure I’d like to hold your hand, in a boyfriend, very into you, please god, blow me and I’ll blow you, kind of way, and not in a good luck squeeze before a game, or a particularly difficult test kind of way?’

God, those touches made his whole hand tingle. 

He’s such a loser. He needs to move on. He finally finds the letter at the bottom of his bag and tugs it out with a triumphant cry. 

There’s a thud, and Jacob yells in shock, twisting to see his curtains moving.

"Sammy! I’m not decent, you can’t—"

"You’re always indecent," a voice huffs, and oh god, it isn’t Sam’s.

Jacob walks over to the window, yanks the curtains back, and is greeted by the face of Daniel, the boy who’d stood him up only hours ago. 

"Jesus Christ!" He takes in Daniel’s rumpled suit, the loosened tie, the messy hair, feeling his insides twist in jealousy over whoever it was that ruffled Daniel up.

"The name’s Daniel, actually. I don’t think Jesus would need to shimmy up your drainpipe for a visit."

"Ha ha," Jacob pauses, glances down at his own bright green boxer briefs, the only thing he’s currently wearing, and flushes all over. "Uh."

"I don’t think they’ll let you into prom with just those on," Daniel states drily, clambering in through the window like he’d been given permission to enter, to be as hot as he looks, right this second. He saunters into the room, pulling at his jacket sleeves and readjusting his tie. "Get dressed."

"No," Jacob says immediately, "Prom’s almost over, dude, I’m not going just for the last three slow dances. I’m not going at all."

"You shouldn’t miss out on something so significant to your secondary school experience just because you haven’t got a date, Jake."

"I tried! You were - everyone else was going with someone, already."

Daniel winces for some unknown reason, it’s possible he’s noticed just how many cartons of ice cream are on the bed, and then glares at Stiles like he’s personally offended Stiles is choosing to screw with his cholesterol before he’s hit twenty. 

"I’m going back to prom, and you’re coming with me. I realise I was only your last resort, anyway, but, if you can handle walking in with me then-"

"Wait, last resort? What?"

"You didn’t get a date," Daniel says slowly, "So, you asked me."

"You weren’t my last resort!" Jacob brandishes his letter at Daniel, "You were my only resort! I wrote you a letter with forty reasons why we should have gone together! Number one; you’re my favourite person to mock other people with, number two; whenever someone seems like they’re pissed at me, you always have my back and I know you’d be able to take them; number three-"

"Jakob," Daniel pinches the bridge of his nose, "You said you wanted us to go as friends.”

"Number three," Jacob continues, "I - what, you didn’t?"

Daniel glances at the ceiling, shoves his hands in his pockets, “You really think I’d come all the way over here, climb up your drain pipe and try to talk you into going to prom if I just wanted to go and get drunk with you on the PE field?”

"See, that was number thirty-two," Jacob gives him a wry smile, "You’re a real smiley drunk and it makes me happy seeing it." Daniel takes a step closer to him, and Jacob clears his throat, "Uh, what happened to your date?"

Daniel shrugs, “I left him when I realised I couldn’t pretend that the only person I wanted stepping on my feet when we danced was you.”

Jacob swallows, fists his hands tightly, “Wow, that’s pretty, uh - was he okay?”

"Yeah," Daniel snorts, "I saw him trying to flirt with someone else when I was leaving anyway."

"Shit, that’s not cool."

Daniel arches a pointed eyebrow, and Jacob tries not to laugh at how ridiculous they are. 

"Wait, so... You left prom for me?"

"You should have asked me weeks ago," Daniel huffs crossly. "I kept waiting."

"Why didn’t you ask?"

"Because I didn’t know you were interested!"

"I’ve literally been finding ways to hold your hand for two years!"

"I -" Daniel hunches his shoulders, "I didn’t want to lose you. If you had said no. It might have gotten weird. But, then you weren’t there tonight, and it felt like I had lost you, I just,” he looks up at Jacob, eyes bright and earnest, “I wanted to check, I guess. Just in case.”

"Just in case -" Jacob glances at his laptop, at Rachel McAdams’ angsty face and then glowers at Daniel, "You absolute  ass, I am totally calling dibs on you for every prom for the next hundred years. And, every party - and movie and - you have to be my date forever, basically, I -”

Daniel strides up to him, catches his face, and kisses him fiercely. Jacob clutches his arms, melting into him. Daniel’s mouth is hot and needy on his, he’s making these tiny wounded noises against Jacob’s lips, and it’s making his knees weak. 

"Jesus."

"I told you already, it’s Daniel."

"Shut up and just take your suit off, no, wait! Leave it on! No-“

Daniel gives him an impatient look as he strips off his jacket and begins yanking at his tie. 

"I’m taking it off."

"God, yes,” Jacob breathes, gets a hand around the tie and pulls until they’re falling onto the bed, kissing desperately. “Ohhh, hey, wait!”

Daniel groans, lifts himself up to glare at Stiles, and Stiles grins, slips up his collar and removes the tie altogether. 

"I was just gonna say, we should have slow dance music on for this. Cos, you know, this is as close as I’m getting to a prom after all."

Daniel rolls his eyes, “Do you even have any slow dance music, Jake?”

"Yeah, I got a whole playlist titled Daniel’s Favourite Songs."

"Uhm, okay," Daniel ducks to kiss his neck, slides his hands down Jacob’s sides until they’re playing with the elastic of his boxers, "You still want to find it?"

"No," Jacob gasps, arching into Daniel’s hands, skin on fire everywhere they’re touching. 

Daniel smirks, and tangles their legs together as he presses Jacob down into the mattress, “What else did you have in the letter?”

"Something about your face being acceptable, and enjoying your humour when it’s not totally lame, oh, and something about getting drunk on the PE field and making out."

"I’ll put it up on my notice board," Daniel murmurs, touching his face with such tenderness Jacob thinks he might break with it.

"Dude, it was just a dumb letter."

"Dude," Daniel imitates crossly, "You’re dumb and I wanted a romantic prom night with you that I can’t have now. The least you can give me is the letter of reasons why you love me."

"I didn’t say-" Jacob quietens at the same Daniel does, and the both blink at one another shyly. "It was fourty reasons why we should go to prom together, but I, uh," Jacob swallows hard, running his hands up Daniel’s back, "Me being in love with you was reason number fourty."

Daniel’s face breaks into a wide smile, and Jacob is pretty sure his heart stops for a second, “That’s a good reason,” he says softly. “I would have gone with you if you’d led with that.”

"Yeah, well," Jacob scowls, "You were already going with somebody else."

"Yes, but I didn’t come all the way across town to be with them, or climb their drainpipe -"

"Alright, I get it, you maybe kind of like me, too-"

"And, I don’t love them," Daniel lifts an eyebrow expectantly, and Jacob’s mouth falls open. 

"Oh."

"Yeah... You. I love you."

Jacob falls back against his pillows, grins up at him, “I’m so glad you went to prom with someone else, first.”

"Me too," Daniel agrees, sliding his hands into Jacob’s boxers. 

[defiantscribe]

The Return of the Mack

I'm far from being a "mack" by any means of the definition, but it felt like it was appropriate for my age demographic and title.

I've found a need to write again.  I've been having all kinds of stupid drama at my job crop up and I've just felt the need to start spewing my opinion for no good reason than everyone else on the internet does it, so why the hell shouldn't I?

Plus, it gives me a reason to write.  I used to love writing.  I'm not awesome enough to write a story.  I've still got a story in my head from when I was 15.  After 20 plus years, I still have no real desire to get it out of my head and out into the world.  Honestly, just thinking about it right now, it might be better done via animation (most likely japanese anime) than any other way.  I just can't see having some of those ideas of mine perverted, "changed" or compromised because of limitations.  If you can draw that shit, you can make my vision a proper reality.  Still haven't ironed out all the kinks and for as much as I like to write, I don't read books, so following some sort of format that would be accepted by any sort of editor would be like trying to push a boulder up hill.

So, what to cheese about?  I used to have a very constant source of information when I worked in news.  The AP Newswire was a place where if you knew where to look, you could find some pretty obscure stories.  I would love to share those again and talk about them, but I'm having a bit of trouble with finding a good source or at least finding something worth saying something about.

I could always try to talk about actual, important current events, but I'm not a news outlet and unless it's really striking a cord with me or upsetting me in some fashion, that's other people problems that will eventually happen, not happen, or not affect me in the slightest.

Okay, let's talk about clickbait.  Now, for the most part, if OP can deliver on the image I'm clicking on in at least a little bit of fashion, you've not duped me 100% and I won't feel like a complete sucker for clicking your link.  But, here's where I have an issue with it.  I just came across this gem on Yahoo's front page.

That's fucking Bubbles from Trailer Park Boys.  Try not to gasp when I see what he looks like now?  He doesn't look like that in real fucking life, ya dumbshit.  He looks like this in real life:

These types of clickbait are the worst, but the problem of them remains because there's at least a possible million dumbshits out there that will click the link, only to be redirected and be bombarded with a shit ton of spam.  I'm the 1,467,896th visitor; yet I won something because of that stupid ass number?  I don't think so.  Humans are about symmetry, we do NOT give a prize like that for such. We may give the 1,500,000th visitor something, but that's a nice, even, calm number.

Despite all that, what kind of sucker believes that shit?  I'm a sucker, sure, but even I'm not so deluded into thinking that I've won something on the internet.  That's like having a Canadian girlfriend.  When I had one (I had two, actually.  Well, one was sort of a girlfriend and the other was an infatuation), people wouldn't have ever believed me because that was the stigma.  

Me: "I got a girlfriend from Canada..."

Other People: "Right...."

I'm sure there are people who win legit contests held by reputable companies, but some random webpage I visited with some random flashing link?  Says I can win 2 iPads?  Yeah.... only thing I'm winning is a call from "Microsoft" and the dubious pleasure of taking my PC to a local tech shop after "letting them into my computer to find the viruses."

But back to clickbait.  It's a powerful advertising tool.  I still find myself being a victim of it, but it's only if the accompanying text draws me in.  If not, or if it's a blatant "we didn't even try with this shit...", fuck that.... I'll drive AROUND your ass to avoid your bullshit.

Truth be told, this first blog post is pretty weak sauce.  Even my ass can see that.  Not only that, but full disclosure, my body is trying to force me into my "after work armchair nap" and is mildly winning.  I'm trying to stay straight and not sleep, which fucks up my sleep schedule, but right now all I can do is finish typing these sentences in between "resting my eyes" sessions.

I was honestly getting ready to give up on finding a fun little news story from today or at least the last few days and was just going to post a link to a youtube video that constantly makes me laugh, when I think I hit internet GOLD.  Fuck, this desire to sleep is real, but I'm trying, I swear.

http://www.waow.com/story/35855686/2017/07/11/police-woman-sets-boyfriend-on-fire-then-dumps-urine-on-him

Police: Woman sets boyfriend on fire then dumps urine on him

PENN HILLS, Pa. (ABC) -

A Pennsylvania woman is accused of setting her boyfriend on fire and then dousing him with urine because she was angry, police said.

Leigh Ann Sepelyak, 38, faces charges including attempted homicide and arson for the incident early Sunday morning.

Penn Hills police said Sepelyak and her boyfriend were involved in an argument in the bottom floor of a home on Lime Hollow Road. When the boyfriend fell asleep, investigators said Sepelyak poured gasoline on him and set it on fire with a lit match.

“The gas ignited, and the boyfriend caught fire from the waist down,” Penn Hills Police Chief Howard Burton told Pittsburgh’s Action News 4.

Authorities said Sepelyak then decided to put the fire out, but instead of using water, grabbed a bucket of urine that the couple had been using in place of a bathroom and poured it onto the victim.

People who live above the couple drove the victim to UPMC Mercy, where he’s said to have burns to at least 25 percent of his lower body.

Penn Hills police said they had no prior interactions with the couple, and Sepelyak would only explain the incident by saying that she was angry.

What the actual fuck?!  First, this lady is a looker (click the link to go to the story), but what kind of fucked up do you have to be to first, set someone on fire because you're mad.  Not only are you mad, but the fight has ended (somewhat) because the other person is SLEEPING, but number two (no pun intended), you're pissing in a bucket.  What the hell is wrong with your toilet that you're pissing in a bucket?  Not only that, but one you have just handy for putting out boyfriend fires?  

You know, just when I think the world can't get any more bizarre, stories like this help to make me feel like my sloppy lifestyle is what these people would classify as "fancy".

Christ, lady.... get some god damn help.

Well, I'm going to wrap this up for now.  Hopefully I'll have something a little more juicy to talk about later.  I may update with some work related stuff, but I do have work people who could potentially read this, so I must choose my words wisely if I decide to dance down that road.  

Cheers, and thanks for reading.  It's fun to write again.

For the 90s kids.... https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uB1D9wWxd2w