#The friend that is less important. Maybe that’s why there’s no response for a week. Fucking deadass ghosted my ass

[meejijis]

I can’t do friendships if there’s no communication

[kiarastromboli]

Teach me 2 (Chris Sturniolo x y/n)

Part.1 Part.3

Masterlist.

Warning: Not my edit, Smut content, don’t like it = don’t read it :)

Summary: Y/N and Chris's relationship has evolved, but Y/N insists on keeping a low profile for fear that her parents will find out she has a boyfriend.

•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•

"Wake up, honey, your dad is dropping you off today," my mom said, gently stroking my hair to wake me up.

I just hummed in response, too lazy to open my mouth and speak.

After a few seconds of tossing in bed to stretch and rub my eyes, I reached for my phone.

I smiled foolishly at my phone before getting out of bed to get ready.

My relationship with Chris had evolved since the night he climbed through my window two weeks ago. We decided to take our time; nothing was officially defined, and not many people knew about us.

Mainly because I was afraid my parents would find out I had a boyfriend. Chris didn't care; he wasn't the type to overthink, and that's precisely why I tried to keep this relationship discreet.

My parents had been quite clear in the past about boys—no boyfriends before the end of high school. According to them, it's a distraction, and they want me to focus fully on my studies, which I can understand.

On top of that, Chris is pretty much everything my parents would dislike, so it would be even worse if they found out I was dating him.

Anyway, I left my room to head to the bathroom. I took a quick shower, got dressed, brushed my teeth, styled my hair, and applied a bit of makeup.

I wanted to look a bit nicer today for Chris; I knew this lacrosse match was important for him, and I wanted to please him.

"You look very beautiful. Do you have a special event today?" my father asked as he saw me coming into the kitchen.

"Um, no, I just felt like getting ready a bit," I nervously replied before sitting at the table for breakfast.

"By the way, I'll probably be home a bit later tonight. There's an important lacrosse match, and I plan to watch it with Julia," I added nervously.

"Hm," my father looked at me strangely before returning to his phone.

I had my breakfast peacefully, and then my father and I headed to school.

My morning went by normally—nothing extraordinary. I attended classes, worked, and chatted a bit with my best friend Julia. Then lunchtime arrived.

"See you at the match!" I told Julia as I left the class to go to my locker.

I opened my locker to put away my things, and when I closed it, I was taken by surprise by Chris standing right behind me.

"Oh my god, Chris!" I said, placing my hand on my heart, thinking I was having a heart attack.

"Sorry, didn't mean to scare you," he said, chuckling, and I gave him a playful punch in the shoulder before laughing myself.

"You look good," he said with a smirk, wrapping his arms around my waist.

"I made an effort for you today," I told him, smiling and tilting my head to the side.

"Can't wait to take off that little skirt later," he whispered in my ear, making me blush.

"Chris!" I said, clearing my throat and looking around to make sure no one had heard.

He chuckled before leaning toward me for a kiss, and instinctively, I pulled back.

He gave me a confused look. "Not here. I don't want anyone to see us," I said timidly.

"Y/n, your parents aren't going to magically appear out of nowhere and catch us kissing. We're at school," he replied, rolling his eyes and sighing.

"I know, but I don't want to take the risk of someone telling them!" I replied.

"I couldn't care less if your parents don't like me, Y/n. It annoys me that I can't kiss you whenever I want!" he said, getting frustrated.

"Chris, I know. I'm sorry. Please, stop," I said, immediately feeling guilty. "Maybe you don't care, but it's important to me. I'm not ready for them to know. I need a little more time."

He sighed, throwing his head back. "Yeah, see you at the match after school," he said before turning around and leaving.

It really bothered me that things were so complicated. It was just the beginning of our relationship, and I was terrified of ruining everything because of my parents.

The rest of the day, I wasn't really focused on anything. I couldn't stop thinking about Chris. I didn't want to hurt him, and I could sense that this situation was bothering him. I wanted to find a way to make it up to him.

After school, Julia and I headed straight to the stadium to watch Chris's match. We had seats right at the front in the stands.

"Hold this for me. I'm going to see Chris quickly before the match starts," I told my best friend, handing her my bag.

Of course, she knew about Chris and me; she was the first person to find out.

She nodded, smiling at me, and I ran toward the locker rooms. I was lucky; Chris had just come out.

I grabbed him by the arm and pulled him to a more discreet spot where no one could see us, then kissed him.

"I'm sorry for earlier," I replied, separating our lips. "I don't want our argument to distract you from your match. I'll find a solution."

"I'm not angry with you, Y/n," he said, placing his hand on my cheek. "It's just that I wish I could show everyone that you're mine."

"Shut up," I said, grabbing the collar of his shirt to kiss him. "How about you show me how much I'm yours after this match," I added, biting my lip.

"You won't have to ask me twice," he said, grabbing me by the waist, pulling me against him, and kissing me again. "Join me in the locker room after the match," he said, disconnecting our lips.

"Chris, I meant at your place or mine, not here dumbass," I said, chuckling.

"I won't wait until then. If it were up to me, I'd fuck you against this wall," he said, smiling.

"No, Chris, you're insane. We're not doing that in the locker room," I said, shaking my head.

"Okay, let's make a deal. If I score three times during this match, we do it in the locker room. Otherwise, it's up to you to decide," he said, extending his hand.

"Chris," I said, looking at him seriously, and he insisted, "Oh my god, okay fine, deal," I finally gave in, and he kissed me quickly before turning back to the others.

Even if Chris was doing pretty well in lacrosse, there was little chance he would score three times on his own. Given the level of his team, I knew this deal was already in my favor.

"Are you done making out with your secret boyfriend?" Julia said when I came back to sit next to her.

"Oh, shut up!" I said, laughing.

It was Chris's first match that I attended. I had seen him practice once or twice quickly, but I didn't expect to find it so attractive to watch him play.

I don't know if it was the brutality with which he entered the opposing team members sometimes or the moments of pause when he removed his helmet to run his hand through his hair.

Not to mention the countless times he threw me looks that, honestly, soaked my panties.

I already found Chris incredibly sexy in everyday life. Sometimes I even felt like a teenager in front of a boyband with him. This guy represented everything I found most attractive.

When he scored for the first time, I was the first to cheer and encourage him, proud to see my boyfriend contribute to his team's victory.

The second time, however, I quickly felt reality catching up with me. Had I just been fooled? I felt anxiety creeping in. If he scored one more time, it meant I was going to sleep with him in the locker room. Oh my god, what had I done?

The rest of the match, every time he approached to score, my heart skipped a beat. But when the last few minutes arrived, I started to feel reassured.

That was without counting on the fact that Chris scored one last time in the last 5 minutes of the match.

Everyone in the stands stood up to celebrate our team's victory, and I sat there for a moment when I realized what that meant. Damn.

After a few minutes of celebration, the team left the field to head to the locker room, and I received a message from Chris.

I blushed at his message.

"Everything okay?" Julia asked, putting her hand on my shoulder, making me jump and immediately turning off my phone so she wouldn't see my messages.

"Um, yeah!" I said, clearing my throat and smiling to pretend nothing was wrong.

"Okay..." she said, looking at me strangely. "Anyways, my brother is dropping me home in 5 minutes. Do you want us to drop you off on the way to your place?" she offered.

"No, thanks, Ju. I'll wait for Chris to come out of the locker room. I have something to tell him quickly," I said timidly, running my hand over my neck.

"Oh, okay. Well, see you tomorrow, Y/n," she said, smiling before leaving.

It had been about twenty minutes since I was waiting in the stands, feeling stressed and anxious.

Of course, it wasn't about sleeping with Chris; on the contrary, I wanted it. It's just that I found it quite risky, and what if someone caught us?

Anyway, I made a deal with him, and I can't back down now.

My moment of solitude was interrupted by a message from Chris, letting me know that the locker room was empty, and he was now waiting for me to join him.

I took a deep breath and stood up before starting to walk towards the locker rooms.

I passed a few people on the way and tried to act casual as I walked past them. Once in front of the locker room door, I scanned the surroundings to make sure no one saw me enter.

I opened the door and quickly entered. My heart immediately raced when the door closed behind me.

I surveyed the room to find my boyfriend, but no one was there. "Ch-Chris?" I said timidly, gradually moving forward in the room.

No response. Turning my head, I saw Chris's bag on the bench with his lacrosse jersey on it, indicating that he was indeed here. "Not funny, idiot, answer me!" I said, rolling my eyes and starting to walk towards the showers.

Suddenly, I felt hands grab my waist and press me against a wall before feeling his lips crashing onto mine, making me sigh in surprise. "Chris! Oh my god!"

"That's the second time I've scared you today," he said, smiling proudly.

"Yes, and you really need to stop doing it if you don't want me to have a heart attack!" I said, giving him a playful shove to his chest.

I took a moment to admire him; he was shirtless, his hair still damp from the shower he probably just had. "I missed you," he said, reconnecting our lips.

"I missed you too," I replied, running my hand through his hair. "I didn't think you'd manage to score three times," I said in a slightly more timid tone.

"With the right motivation, there are plenty of things I can do," he said, smiling against my lips before removing one of the straps of my top.

"Chris—" I started to say before being cut off by his lips on my neck. "I know we made a deal, but I don't think it's a good idea," I said, unable to hold back small moans escaping my mouth.

"Why?" he asked, sliding his hands over my hips. "You don't seem like you want me to stop, judging by the sounds you're making," I could feel his smile against my neck.

"I don't—" I said, interrupted by a moan when he began nibbling on my neck. "If someone catches us, Chris, I—" I said before being cut off by his hands grabbing the back of my thighs to lift me.

"Don't worry. If you stay quiet, there's no reason anyone will catch us," he said with a smirk before kissing me again, this time our kiss was deeper and more fiery.

I knew it wasn't responsible of me, but his lips on my body only led me astray from the right path. I placed one hand on his shoulder while the other tangled in his hair. "We'll have to do this quickly, though. I don't know how much time we have before the janitor comes to clean the locker rooms," he said with a hungry voice, and I simply nodded.

He led us to the bench to sit next to his bag. His hands gripped my hips, making me moan once again, and I started moving my hips against his, making him groan in return. "I fucking missed this pussy. I can't wait any longer," he said, licking his lips, and indeed, I could feel his rock-hard cock through his joggers rubbing against my panties.

He came to grasp my throat in his hand, kissing me more fiercely than before, making me moan in surprise. This time was different, less gentle than the first, but equally pleasing. I couldn't help but squirm and moan, craving to feel him inside me again. "Shhh," he said, separating our lips.

"I'm sorry, it's just that—" I began before feeling his grip on my ass strengthen.

"It's just that what?" he said with a smirk. "Don't be all shy with me ma; tell me, or I'll stop now," he added, removing his hands from my ass.

"No, don't!" I said in a heated sigh before guiding his hands back to where they were, and he smiled. "It's just that I really need you now," I said timidly, and he immediately kissed me again.

His hands left my ass to remove his joggers and boxers, lifting his hips slightly, pressing his erection even closer to me, causing another moan to escape my lips.

"Y/n, you really need to make less noise than that," he chuckled, readjusting himself.

"Sorry," I said, blushing and looking down at his sizeable member. Not to brag, but in my eyes, it was rather large, and I was afraid that without any foreplay, his entrance might be painful.

"I won't enter before stretching you a bit, baby, don't worry," he chuckled before bringing his hand between our bodies.

He slid my panties to the side before inserting a finger inside me while looking at me with his beautiful blue eyes.

I tried to stifle a moan when he immediately added a second finger, making me furrow my brows and cling to his shoulder. "You're so beautiful, y/n," he said, moving his fingers inside me.

And I couldn't help but move my hips back and forth, hoping to feel him even deeper inside me. "You're such a good girl; look at you riding my fingers like a needy slut," his words prompted another moan to escape my mouth.

His free hand came to surround his member as he started to stroke himself while watching me. "I want to do it," I said, wrapping my hand around him, and he smiled before starting to bend his fingers inside me.

I gradually quickened my hand movements around him, and he threw his head back. "N-no, Chris, look at me," I said, moaning and placing my free hand on his cheek.

"Fuck, I need to be inside of you right now," he said, removing his fingers from me to grab a condom from his bag.

In a few seconds, he opened the condom with his teeth, and I stopped stroking him so he could put it on.

He wasted no time in seizing me by the hips and aligning himself with my entrance. He took care to shift my panties to the side before applying pressure to my hips to enter in one swift motion. "Chris!" I almost screamed, burying my head in his neck.

"Sorry, I couldn't wait any longer, ma," he said, groaning and starting to guide my hips up and down.

"Oh my fuck," I said, moaning and throwing my head back.

He took advantage of the moment to bury his head in my neck and kiss me there. "Chris, I—" I said, moaning, and he quickened the movement, I gently pulled his hair. "This is so good; please don't stop."

"Y/n, someone might hear you; you need to stop moaning like that, shit-" he said, lifting his head towards me and grabbing my chin.

"I don't fucking care, Chris; it feels good. I need you to go faster, please," I said, driven solely by my desires at that moment, and he did what I asked, thrusting from below this time.

He grabbed my hips tightly and started giving me fast and deep thrusts. "Oh my god, yes, right there," I said, dropping my head forward.

"Fuck, y/n, shhh," he said, trying his best to hold back his own moans.

I felt like I had become completely dumb; the only thing I could think of at that moment was Chris inside me. The moans coming from me were out of control, so Chris pressed his hand against my mouth to prevent any sound from escaping.

"God, I wish I didn't have to cover your pretty little mouth right now," he whispered without stopping his thrusts.

My lower abdomen tightened as he began to massage my clit. My eyes rolled back, and my hand instinctively gripped Chris's throat, which seemed to shock him momentarily but didn't displease him, judging by the smile that appeared on his face.

I closed my eyes, feeling my orgasm approaching. With my other hand, I removed Chris's hand from my mouth to warn him, "Baby, I'm really close," I said, moaning.

"Me too, ma, let it go," he said through gritted teeth. I locked eyes with him, my mouth open, refraining from letting my moans escape. Chris's brows were furrowed, and he bit his lips to prevent any noise from escaping.

"Chris, oh my god!" I almost screamed, tightening my grip around his neck, letting my orgasm take over.

"Hold on a little longer; I'm almost there babe," he said, breathless, giving me animalistic thrusts before he, too, reached climax and stopped his movements completely.

I let my head fall against his chest with him still inside me, and we both began to chuckle. "I'm going to need a second shower," he said, laughing.

"Well, we don't have time. You'll take one at your place; I have to go home before my parents get worried." I told him, straightening up and placing my hands around his cheeks.

"Hmm," he simply hummed, caressing my ass and kissing me tenderly.

I stood up, readjusted my skirt and panties, while he disposed of the condom and got dressed on his end. "I'm good?" I asked, wanting him to tell me if I was disheveled or if my clothes were misplaced.

"Mhm," he said, nodding, and we both headed towards the exit.

He grabbed me by the arm to kiss me. "I love you, Chris," I said, breaking our kiss with a big smile.

"I love you, baby," he replied before I turned to open the door and stepped out.

I quickly descended from my little cloud when I opened the door and found myself face to face with Chris's coach, who crossed his arms.

"Y/f/n y/l/n! I wouldn't have expected to run into you here," he said, giving me a judgmental look before Chris came out right after. "Chris Sturniolo, what a surprise!"

I looked at Chris anxiously, hoping he could come up with a miracle solution. "Coach, it's not what you think—" he started before being interrupted.

"I don't want to hear anything. Both of you will explain yourselves to the principal tomorrow. Go home now," he responded.

Oh my god, this time I'm really in trouble...

Masterlist.

[a-small-safe-place]

His Haven Pt. 2

Homelander x Psychiatrist!Reader

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

As the weeks passed, Homelander continued to integrate himself into your life, blurring the lines between patient and "friend." One evening, after a particularly intense session, Homelander broached the subject of spending more time together outside of the therapy room. "I was thinking," he began, his blue eyes searching yours, "maybe we could grab a bite sometime. You know, outside of this place." Your heart sank, torn between the genuine connection you felt with Homelander and the professional boundaries you knew you needed to maintain. With all your other patients, you had discussed boundaries, but not with the members of The Seven. The Deep, A-Train, and Queen Maeve viewed these sessions as a waste of time. Starlight and Black Noir had kept a very professional relationship. You weren't totally sure why Black Noir still came to the sessions since his sessions were spent in silence, usually with him drawing pictures of Buster Beaver and his little buddies. Starlight was the only one that used the sessions for what they were meant for.

You had not thought you needed to set boundaries with them, and that, since these were America's greatest heroes, the boundaries were obvious and unspoken. Oh, how that had bitten you in the ass now, having to turn down the offer. You let those boundaries slip by allowing Homelander to come to your house, but in that situation, there was not a lot you could do to stop him.

"I appreciate the offer, Homelander, but it's important to keep our relationship within the confines of our sessions," you replied carefully, trying to hide the conflict in your eyes, unaware that he could hear your heartbeat and smell your nervousness. Homelander's expression shifted from hopeful anticipation to a subtle disappointment that cut through you. "Right, professional boundaries," he said, a forced smile tugging at his lips. It is the kind of smile that does not reach his eyes. "I get it." You could not let his dangerous expression get to you.

The following sessions became strained. Homelander seemed distant, his usually confident demeanor replaced by an air of vulnerability and irritation. You should be thanking him that he is interested in you. He attended sessions less frequently, and when he did, the conversations were stilted. It was clear that your rejection had affected him more than either of you anticipated. Homelander was not willing to give up. You just needed a chance to come around.

One day, after a difficult session, Homelander lingered in your office. "Is there something you're not telling me?" he asked, his tone a mixture of frustration and hurt. Homelander knew you did not have a partner in your life. He had stopped by to do a thorough search of your home while you were out, and there was no evidence of you dating someone, not even the smell of a casual hookup still lingering on your skin. You sighed, maintaining the professionalism that defined your role. "It's not that I don't value our sessions, Homelander. But crossing the boundaries of a therapeutic relationship can be detrimental for both of us," you explained, your words hanging heavily in the air. "I want what's best for you, and sometimes that means maintaining a professional distance."

Homelander's jaw tensed, and he stood abruptly. "So, I'm just another patient to you, is that it?" His eyes bore into yours, searching for a hint of vulnerability that matched his own. "No, Homelander, you're not just another patient," you replied softly, your heart aching at the pain evident in his eyes. "But I have a responsibility to ensure that our interactions remain focused on your well-being." He stormed out of your office without another word, leaving you with a sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach. Homelander is a dangerous and unpredictable man. The once-promising therapeutic alliance had crumbled, replaced by an unspoken tension that hung in the air during each subsequent session.

Days turned into weeks, and the divide between you and Homelander deepened. He attended sessions less frequently, and when he did, the conversations were strained and unproductive. Of course, for Homelander, he still had his time with you even if you were oblivious to it. Though, he would much rather be in your arms than jacking off on the building next to yours while you participated in a similar activity in the warmth of your bed. 

One evening, after a silent session, Homelander was particularly grumpy in this session. He had expressed that he had a bad day. Homelander lingered at the door. "You should be fucking thanking me,” He pauses. “I am giving you the opportunity of a lifetime, and you're fucking throwing it away. Do you know how many people would leave their whole families just for one glance from me?”

The weight of his words settled heavily on your shoulders as he walked away, leaving you alone in the empty office. It made you wonder how dangerous Homelander really was and how desperate he would become if you continued to deny him. The once-promising connection had fractured irreparably, and the professional boundaries you fought so hard to maintain had come at the cost of a genuine connection with Homelander.

The weeks passed with a lingering tension between you and Homelander. The once-promising therapeutic alliance had crumbled, leaving behind an unspoken rift that seemed insurmountable. Homelander attended sessions less frequently, and when he did, the conversations were strained, devoid of the genuine connection that had defined your earlier interactions. It became evident that your rejection had affected him more deeply than either of you anticipated. Homelander, usually the embodiment of confidence, now wore an air of vulnerability and loneliness that tugged at your conscience. The sessions were marked by long pauses, resentful glances, and a palpable discomfort that neither of you could ignore. You couldn't shake the feeling of regret that lingered each time you saw him. The haunting realization that you had sacrificed something meaningful for the sake of professional decorum weighed heavily on your conscience. Late one evening, a knock echoed through your home. Homelander stood at the doorway, his usual confidence replaced by a vulnerability that mirrored the man you had glimpsed in the early days of your sessions. "I need someone to talk to," he admitted, his voice a whisper.

[tadpoles-and-daydreams]

Why I cuss (affectionately) at my deities, sometimes, and why it's important to me

I'm having some feelings tonight, so here have another "Frog is rambling again" post. This one's about Loki, because they seem intent on speedrunning teaching me shit. Seriously it's been like three weeks.

I wasn't prepared for what working with Loki actually looks like. /pos

Because what that actually looks like, apparently, is sitting watching a comedy anime and getting the distinct vibe that it has a sense of humor that Loki enjoys. And then realizing that's because Loki is actively hanging around... watching fuckin' anime with me. Why the hell would Loki want to watch a dumb comedy anime with the funny little guy he works with?

Seeing a post about watching comedy as a devotional act to Loki later felt intentional, so I ended up deciding to do just that.

Thing is, I grew up exposed to the idea that God is an all-powerful being who deserves nothing less than the best and humans are the scum of the earth. I'm only now seeing that it's been damaging my relationship with my deities. I'm afraid to just chat with them 'too casually.' I apologize if I feel like I said something that's too disrespectful. I've apologized to Loki multiple times because he pulled some shit and my response was "god damnit Loki" or "you motherfucker."

And then they remind me that I call my mom the same thing, and she laughs. It's the same with my friends. All because it's not insulting, or disrespectful, it's a sign of affection. I would never say that and mean it; they know that, so it's funny. It's playful.

Amongst many other things, Loki is teaching me that joy is to be valued. This world tells us that it's dumb, childish, or any other assortment of negative descriptors- and that it has no place in spirituality. Certainly no place in the presence of a god- and that's fucking sad. I think Loki is sad about it too. I think Loki's fucking pissed, actually. How dare we be made to feel shame for what makes us happy. The gods deserve to partake in our joy and our fun just as much as they deserve to be part of our sorrow and fear.

Maybe it's just me, but I'm starting to think that hanging out with some fucker who's scrolling through memes and blasting music might just be a nice change of pace for them.

[itsss4t4n]

Hi!! Could I get some harry hook x male!reader where reader is the eldest child of Anna and Kristoff please? Also maybe reader looks just like his mum but acts like his dad? Thanks and sorry if it's too specific fjdjdjvjs

Always - Harry Hook x male!reader

a/n: I honestly think that reader personaliy is more like anna han kristoff. somehow i really struggled wih that. i lowkey hate this but i still hope you enjoy his <3

warnings: no use of y/n, making out, small fight/angst, ew emotions, I love some good drama, i hate this tbh, not proofread

When Mal decided to open the barrier forever, it was cerainly an adjusment for everyone.

The Vks that came over to auradon were enrolled into auradon prep and all assigned an auradon student to help them settle in and answer any questions they might have.

You weren't the biggest fan of that arrangementt. Not because you didnt like or trust the vks, you were actually quite close with all of the cour four. You just werent a big people person. So having to share your dorm with someone you dont know and most likely having them at your side 24/7? Not ideal for you.

Especially when you heard who you were going to be paired with. 

But Mal had basically begged you to help. 

"Please. I know you dont like this but he is kind of difficult and i know that you could handle him. I dont know anyone else that could."

So you reluctantly agreed.

Mal was right. Harry Hook was certainly difficult. He was really stuck in ways and refused to change. He refused to follow any rules, he was mean and he hated school. And the worst thing? He was stupidly hot.

Now, you hated school just as much, and you did skip a few lessons here and there but you had respect for your teachers and your peers. And you knew that unfortunately school was important for your future. 

Usually you couldnt care less if other people got on trouble but harry was your responsibility now, so everytime he got into trouble, you were getting dragged into it. And you hated it.

So thats how you ended up in fairy godmothers office for the 7th time that week (it was thursday) sitting next to Harry, who just looked bored while you were about to beat him up.

This has been happeneing for almost 3 months at this point.

"This can not keep going on. Harry If you cannot follow the rules and integrate yourself into Auradon then we might be forced to take stronger action." 

Back in your dorm Harry threw himself onto his bed.

"Well that a tad overdramatic aye?"

You couldnt hold it in anymore. 

"HARRY! THIS IS NOT A GAME! YOU KEEP GETTING IN TROUBLE SIMPLY FOR THE SAKE OF IT AND YOU HURT OTHERS. ARE YOU AWARE OF THE FACT THAT YOU ARE BASICALLY A FEW OFFENSES AWAY FROM EXPULSION?! AND IF THAT HAPPENS YOU BASICALLY HAVE NO CHANCE ANYMORE TO DO ANYTHING! NOT ONLY THAT BUT YOU RUIN MY REPUTATION WITH YOUR BEHAVIOUR AS WELL. JUST THINK ABOUT SOMEONE ELSE THAN YOURSELF FOR ONCE IN YOUR GODDAMN LIFE!"

Without looking at him you stormed out of the room and slammed the door behind you.

The rest of your day was spend ranting to Mal and Evie about Harry.  Mal hat texted Uma during your rant, telling her to speak with Harry. He would probably listen to her. She was his best friend after all.

You dreaded going to bed that night. Just being in the same room with him.

Uma left your Room just before you arrived, so when you entered Harry was sitting on his bed, a conflicted expression on his face. 

You decided to ignore him, just grabbing a pair of sweatpants and heading to the bathroom to change for bed.

When you exited the beathroom agin harry had also changed into sweatpants. GREY sweatpants.

Fuck. Was he trying to kill you?

His head perked up at the sound of the bathroom door. 

"Hey..."

You looked over at him.

"What Hook?"

He looked a little conflicted still, which confused you. Why the sudden change in mood?

"Look... I'm nae good at this but- fuck..." He sighed exxasperated. "I wanted to apologize."

You head snapped to him again In surprise.

"What?"

"I acted like a total dickhead." He started ranting, trying to get it all outbefore he mentally talked himself out of it. " I didnt care how I might hurt ya. And I don't even have a good reason for that. I was just scared. I was scared of being vulnerable. All I have ever known was the Isle. I am used to hiding myself behind a Tough outside and I was scared to change from that."

Harry quickly wiped his eyes of the tears swimming in them, hoping you wouldnt notice. But you did.

You were shocked by his sudden and surprisingly honest outburst. For a few very long seconds you just stared at each other.

"Harry...." You took a slow step towards him. "I'm sorry. I should've realized how hard this would be. And I know it will be difficult, but i promise you that from now on you wont have to hide anymore. You're safe here." 

Now, standing right before harry, you layed your hand on his shoulder. Harrys eyes met yours, once again swimming with tears but a small smile gacing his lips.

"Thank ye."

You reached up to wipe the tear that had fallen from his eye, your hand resting on harrys cheek, his head leaning into your touch.

You noticed how close you two had gotten. Your eyes flickering from harrys eyes to his lips for a split second.

"Harry?" Your noses brushed against each other ever so slightly.

"Yea?" His voice was barely a whisper.

"I really hope I'm not reading this wrong," You voice matched his. "but can I kiss you?"

Harry was silent, and for a few excruciating second you truly thought you were wrong. Harry was into guys, you knew that much. He didnt hide that part about himself. But did he like you?

"Yes please." 

A small sigh of relief left your mouth as you leaned in, your lips moving against his. Harrys hands moved to your hips, gripping at the exposed skin, thanks to your lack of shirt. In turn your hands wrapped around his neck, your fingers gripping onto his hair.

When you parted for air, you kept your eyes closed, your foreheads leaning against each other. 

For a few seconds all you could hear was you heavy breathing and your own heartbeat, loud in your ears, before Harry leaned in and kissed you again. His hands pulling you flush against his bare chest by your hips.

Once again you pulled back, this time a little more, looking into each others eyes.

"Thank ye, darlin"

"Always."

[heliads]

Hi! Hope I’m not too late, could I request a Derek Hale x reader where she (already knowing ab the supernatural) gets tired of Derek constantly disappearing from her life whenever he does that Derek thing until finally she’s fed up with it being the one to disappear this time idk how to end it or go from there but I was thinking of an angsty hurt/comfort with a happy ending🥺! Hope it’s enough, thank you!!

'the one who leaves ' - derek hale

masterlist

The hardest part of both being a werewolf and knowing a werewolf is, and will always be, the horrors. The attacks that never cease, the blood always shed. The second hardest part is the strain of being with someone whose life is always in jeopardy purely because of who they are. Although it doesn’t feel nearly as important as the constant threat of hunters, or the latest monster to decide that Beacon Hills should be its new domain, sometimes you swear the second part hangs even more heavily about your heart than the first. Then again, maybe that’s just because of Derek Hale.

Derek is one of the most complicated players on the supernatural chess board. You met him what feels like a lifetime ago, when one of seemingly dozens of supernatural attacks had threatened the lives of Beacon Hills citizens. Derek had saved your life. A month later, you’d saved him from some hunters. The back-and-forth of life saving went on and on until the two of you decided you were better as friends than people a little too important to each other to be acquaintances, and then the boundaries were shifted again when you started dating.

Sometimes, though, on rough nights after long fights and darker ones when you haven’t seen Derek in weeks and he doesn’t seem all that inclined to answer your texts or voicemails, you start to think that entering into a relationship with you is one of Derek’s biggest regrets. It’s not that he doesn’t care for you; Derek has assured you many times over that his feelings for you are stronger even than his loyalties to his pack, his commitment to killing the hunters responsible for the Hale House fire, yet the problem remains.

Derek is all too familiar with the struggle of having a weakness. When his ancestral home burned down with most of his family trapped inside, he learned for the first time that sometimes a mortal blow capable of destroying his life doesn’t have to threaten him specifically. When he loves someone so much that he prioritizes their safety above his own, Derek creates a weakness that hunters and other supernaturals can exploit. He would never forgive himself if you were hurt as a tool to get to him, so Derek has been doing his best to limit the fallout of any supernatural fight onto you.

However, this only seems to drive the two of you apart. Yes, by not being seen in public as often anymore, Derek lowers the possibility that a hunter would try to kidnap you as a hostage, but it also means that you see him less and less frequently. When you do finally manage to meet up, after thoroughly checking to make sure you haven’t been tailed, and only after dark in one of your houses, you’re both exhausted, wrung dry of the same life and spirit that had brought the two of you together in the first place.

It’s not the same anymore. You hate to admit it, but it’s true. Loving Derek is no longer the beautiful victory it had always been. Instead, you feel as if you’ve lost the war. Derek isn’t yours anymore. If he was, you wouldn’t have to hide what the two of you share, you wouldn’t have to constantly stare at the long list of missed calls on your phone and wonder when he’ll ever pick up, if he even wants to anymore. Derek is doing a great job at keeping you safe, but somewhere along the line, the two of you got your priorities mixed up. Now you’re alone and he’s alive, and you don’t know that you’re any happier about it than you would have been if one of you were lost to the hunters.

At this point, why try? Why even bother with the pretense of maintaining the ruse? The two of you might as well not even be together at all. It doesn’t feel like you are, certainly, when you go so long in between visits. Even when the two of you are finally face to face, Derek is harried and brief, hardly staying longer than a few hours before rushing off again, never to be seen for another few months.

It wears away at you like a river at a stone. Your sharp edges, the ones that pierced through his shell so easily at the beginning of it all, have been smoothed to nothingness. Each of your attempts to break through to Derek and coax him into staying even a little longer are brushed off with simple excuses. It’s like you don’t even exist to him anymore.

Fine. Fine. If you’re not a person to him anymore, he will not be a person to you. You pack up your things and leave Beacon Hills early one morning, only telling Scott McCall and Deaton over at the vet so they can contact you if need be. You don’t say a word about your absence to Derek. Why bother? He’s not even in town, hasn’t been for months. When he comes back– if he attempts to come back at all– he can ask one of his friends and hear the same answer that he would from you right now. There’s no point in wasting either of your time any longer.

You’re still engaged in fighting the good fight against the supernatural. Deaton is a longtime friend of yours, and he’d been hearing rumors of a peculiarity a couple of states over. He couldn’t afford to leave Beacon Hills for an extended period of time, being so important to the town as one of its last defenders, so you offered to go instead. It would be good for you, you said. The trip. Being able to clear your head.

Odds are, Deaton had been able to see through that excuse as he has many of your others all throughout your life, but he had just nodded and said that he was grateful for your help. With that, you left town. You’ve been in Beacon Hills for your entire life, excluding brief excursions in the name of school or work or family trips. Never before have you left like this, not entirely sure if you would ever come back, uncertain that the person you love most of all would be there to want you to return.

At first, the trip feels like a terror. Then you roll down the windows and let the early morning light touch your face with soft, bright fingers; then the breeze cools your face, running over your skin in loose circles; then you start to breathe at last, for the first time in what feels like years. Then you remember that you are still a person worth saving, and maybe even if Derek Hale cannot do that, you can save yourself by leaving.

The miles pass by in moments. You’re long gone by the time anyone starts waking up. Scott knew that you were leaving and told the other teenagers in his pack so they wouldn’t freak out, but he still texts you anyway. Hope you find what you’re looking for.

So do I, you message him back at a red light. Stay safe.

Thanks, he responds, then no more.

You end up in the state of your choice by the middle of the afternoon, booking a room at a hotel so you can have a home base while properly surveying the area. You don’t have a supernatural’s knack for telling when something is wrong, but the hairs on the back of your neck prickle anyway, letting you know that the currents of the wind around this city have a magical edge, a certain element that sets them aside from a normal town. Good. You could use something fantastical and uncommon.

You don’t know when you expect to hear back from Derek. Never, maybe. You had assumed that he wouldn’t try to reach out to you until he got back, which might be anywhere from a few months from now to never. Once he returned to Beacon Hills, Derek could hear from Scott as to why you weren’t there anymore. You and Derek hardly spoke at all anymore, except out of an obligation to make sure you were still alive. He probably wouldn’t care at all.

Yet not a week has gone by before you start getting frantic texts from Derek.

Y/N. You in town?

Why is your house empty?

Scott tells me you left town. Why didn’t you tell me?

Y/N. Please text back. I’m getting worried.

Three missed calls.

Please pick up, sweetheart. I’ll drive over there myself if I have to. Just tell me you’re alive.

You stare at the notifications for a long time, reveling in how they build in intensity, then tap out a message of your own at last:  I’m alive and well.

Derek immediately responds. And you didn’t tell me you were going?

The bright glow of your phone dulls your senses. Nothing feels right, but nothing feels wrong anymore. Loving Derek used to make you feel invincible. Now, you’re just tired, and wishing this exchange would end.

Didn’t think I would have to. You’ve been away for months, and you never tell me when you’re going. Why should I?

Derek doesn’t like that at all. It’s different with me, sweetheart. You know that.

You don’t bother to grace that with a response. Setting your phone on ‘do not disturb,’ you shove the device back in your pocket. It’s good that Derek is unhappy with this turn of events, you decide. For once, he should be the one panicking when he wakes up alone, when he wants to be with the person he loves only for them to disappear without a trace. Why should it be you all the time?

You carry on with your task. As it turns out, the case at hand, the utter unraveling of the supernatural presence in this town, is due to an overactive ancient curse on the town. Deaton talks you through how to shut it down, and once the job is done, you return home, proud of yourself and your accomplishments.

You’re fully expecting Derek to have left town again by the time you got back. He’s been messaging you non stop, but you’ve been leaving most of those messages on ‘unread’ since they all say pretty much the same things:  why wouldn’t you tell me you were going, are you alright, come back ASAP. You message back occasionally to assure him that you’re still alive, but mainly, you think a bit of silence would do the both of you some good.

After arriving back at Beacon Hills, you stop by your house to drop off your belongings before visiting Deaton to debrief. He’s glad to hear of your success, but once both of you have ensured that the town was handled accordingly, he breaks protocol to talk about your personal life instead.

“I think you should talk to Derek Hale,” he says uneasily.

You frown at him. “What?”

Deaton glances around to make sure no customers can overhear you, then continues on. “He’s been a wreck ever since you left. He keeps stopping by the shop to demand information from me. He insisted for a long time that I give him the name of the town you were visiting so he could check on you himself, but I kept it from him because I thought you would need to focus.”

“That was the right call,” you assure him. It would, after all, have been more difficult to juggle both an errant curse and a supremely ticked off boyfriend.

Deaton chuckles good-naturedly. “That was what I had assumed. I would still recommend talking to him, though. These sorts of conflicts are best handled sooner rather than later.”

You nod your agreement, and, after talking a few minutes longer, head out towards Derek’s apartment complex. Although you’ve felt bitterly triumphant in the fact that Derek now knows what it’s like to miss somebody like you’ve been missing him, you fell in love with him for a reason, and that reason was that you liked being around him more than you did with anyone else. You still love him, even if the two of you have been on the fringe of an argument for a while now.

That’s what drives you to his building, what carries you up the interminably long elevator ride, what brings you to knock twice on his door and wait until a quiet voice from inside announces that the door is unlocked.

That’s the first sign that something is wrong. Derek never leaves the door unlocked. Some could call it an overwhelming concern for safety, or just plain paranoia, but Derek’s experienced enough tragedy in his life to go overboard in making sure that he keeps all potential avenues of risk firmly blocked off. The fact that the door is unlocked disquiets you more than you like to admit.

Slowly, carefully, you push the door open. Immediately, you’re struck by the gloomy atmosphere of the place. Derek pulled the curtains over the wide windows of his apartment, making the whole place darker and more lifeless than usual. The lights are off. You can assume that Derek can see thanks to his werewolf senses without needing the fluorescents, but for your human eyes, the whole place just seems as dark and grave as a crypt.

“Derek?” You call out hesitantly.

Silence. Then, a husky voice from the back. “Y/N? Is that you?”

You still can’t see him in the gloom, so you cross the apartment to open the blinds on the large windows, hoping to toss some light on the situation. You know the layout of the place from memory, so many visits here help to solidify your knowledge of each piece of furniture in the apartment. Still, you’re not expecting to see Derek crumpled in a chair on the corner, looking significantly the worse for wear.

You’re at his side in an instant. “Derek? Are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” he says listlessly. “Not like you knew a thing about that, though, disappearing like that.”

Your concern for him starts to fade away, replaced instead by a burning irritation. “So that’s what all of this is about? You’re so hurt that I was the one to leave that you’ve become comatose?”

Derek sits up a little, eyes flashing. “You vanished without a trace and didn’t tell me where you went. I thought you were dead, Y/N. I had to pry information out of Deaton so I even knew you were alive, and when I tried to contact you, you ignored my messages. What the hell was I supposed to think?”

You laugh, although it’s not a happy sound. “Finally, you understand. This is what I deal with every time you leave town, Derek. You never tell me where you’re going or what you’re doing. I sat here in Beacon Hills for months, wondering if you’ll ever come back. I was gone for half the time you usually are and yet it’s far too much for you to handle. How do you think I feel?”

Derek’s lips flatten. “I– I didn’t realize you took it like that. I was just trying to keep you safe. You know how the hunters watch me, and–”

You cut him off, feeling the anger coiling through your stomach. “I know that, Derek. I know that every supernatural in your life that isn’t a part of your pack wants you dead. I know that in your head, this is how you keep me safe, by constantly cutting me out of your life, but has it occurred to you that this isn’t what I want? You could have asked me if this was the way to handle it. If you had even talked to me at all, I would have told you that I don’t care about being safe. Not if it means we’re like this. Not if it means I don’t get to have you at all.”

Derek stands up slowly, until he’s hovering just a few breaths away from you. One of his hands reaches up to cradle your cheek. “I never wanted to hurt you,” he whispers. “I’ve lost so many people in my life. I can’t lose you, too.”

“I know,” you murmur back. “But if you keep going on like this, if you keep pushing me away, you’ll lose me anyway.”

He flinches. “I should have asked you,” he admits. “I can’t erase the past, Y/N, but I can apologize for the present. Will you forgive me?”

“Only if you stay with me,” you answer him.

A ghost of a smile plays upon his lips. “I’ve never had a problem with that. It hurts like hell, leaving you. Always.”

“Then don’t do it anymore,” you urge him. “Stay with me, Derek. Keep me safe by staying with me.”

“I will,” Derek promises.

People in love make a lot of promises. Some are kept, some are broken. Some are forgotten about entirely. Looking at Derek in this half-darkness, though, you have a feeling that this one will be cherished for quite a long time indeed.

teen wolf tag list: @mayfieldss, @rogueanschel, @lovesanimals0000, @rafecameronswhore, @bellabadacadabra, @watchreadfangirlrepeat, @23victoria

all tags list: @wordsarelife

[unrefinedmusings]

snooze

pairing: no outbreak!joel miller x f!reader

summary: after a few blissful weeks of dating, you meet the most important people in Joel's life in the worst way. part 1: sweet, sweet sugar (can be read as standalone)

warnings: allusions to smut, explicit language, age gap (reader is mid 20s, Joel is 36) smidge of nasty talk, one use of y/n

a/n: took ten years to write a sequel but the joel miller girlies are still going strong so who cares? thank you for all the support for part 1! btw this was inspired by the scene in gilmore girls the morning after luke and lorelai's first date hehe

---

The mid-morning light awoke you. You were surrounded by warmth, by Joel. He had you wrapped up in his arms, his chest acting as your pillow. The smile on your face grew bigger as you remembered where you were: in his bed, in his house. 

Sleepovers happened less than often between you two, and up until last night they had been held exclusively at your apartment. But with Sarah staying over at a friend’s and Tommy staying over at a “friend’s”, you were finally allowed a bigger glimpse into your maybe boyfriend’s life. 

You were tempted to stay in bed with Joel, even just to watch him sleep. However, you vaguely remembered the blaring sound of an alarm clock going off earlier. Your response had been to nuzzle further into the man next to you, and it seemed Joel’s was to turn off the clock entirely. Due to your busy schedules, you cherished your time together and did not want to waste any more unconscious. 

Despite the sluggishness in your body, you trudged down the stairs to make some coffee for you and your still snoozing man. If you hadn’t still been so dazed from slumber, you would have registered the light noises of chewing and metal scraping against plates. Maybe then you wouldn’t have been standing in front of your maybe not anymore boyfriend’s brother and daughter in nothing but a precariously buttoned flannel shirt.

Your jaw dropped but no sound came out as you stared wide eyed at the two of them sitting at the breakfast table. Their faces glimmered with surprise and a hint of mischief. Tommy’s gaze met Sarah and he sent her an impish grin before turning back to you. Not that you were processing any of that right now. You were too busy silently praying that Joel’s shirt was long enough to cover the array of hickeys he left on your thighs last night. You knew it wasn’t covering the ones he left on your neck.

The man’s got a possessive streak.

Tommy cleared his throat before speaking.

“Hel-“

That’s all he could utter before you darted right back up the stairs to Joel’s room. You shut the door behind you before letting out a long, shuddering exhale and pacing the room.

A familiar groan caught your attention. “Baby, c’mon back to bed.”

There you were, trying to recover from one of the most mortifying moments of your life, and there he was, barely awake and looking delicious with the sheets lying dangerously low around his naked waist. 

Ugh, men. It wasn’t enough to just be unhelpful. He had to be sexy and distracting right now too.

With heavy eyelids, Joel catches your form across the room. He lingers on your bare legs before meeting your glare with a suggestive grin.

“Think I need somethin’ sweet to start the day. Why dontcha come sit that pretty pussy on my face, sugar?”

For a second, you forget about everything but his tongue and all it was capable of.

NO!

“We’re not alone…in the house,” you said meekly.

Joel sat up in bed before replying, “What?”

“Tommy and Sarah are in the kitchen! I went downstairs to make coffee and walked in on them eating breakfast. I ran back up before they could even say anything.”

“They’re not supposed to be home until 10.”

You grabbed his watch from the dresser and tossed it at him. “It’s 10:30! We slept through your alarm!”

He let out a grunt of annoyance before getting out of bed and grabbing a pair of sweats off the floor.

“I’m sorry, sugar. We’ll explain it to ‘em and-“, he paused, turning to you. “Hold on now, did you go downstairs like that?”

“…Yes.”

“You’re not wearing any pants.”

“I know that!”

“You mean to tell me my brother saw you with no pants on?”

“Seriously? That’s what you’re focused on right now?”

“I don’t want Tommy gettin’ any ideas about what’s mine.”

His. His. His. He said I’m h—no!

You forced yourself to focus on planning an escape.

“Do you think I could climb out the window?”

He shot you a look. The look. “You are not climbing out the goddamn window.”

“Back door?”

Joel lets out a long exhale before walking over to where you’re standing. He pulls you into his chest and you melt into the embrace, his hands gently rubbing your back to comfort you further.

“Sugar, we’re gonna get dressed, go downstairs, say hello, and if you want, have breakfast with Sarah and Tommy. If not, I’ll take you out the front door and give ya’ a ride home.”

“…breakfast sounds good.”

You feel the rumble of his laugh before a press of his lips meets your forehead.

After finally getting some bottoms on, Joel leads you downstairs, undeterred by your dragging feet. You couldn’t help it, you were so embarrassed. 

This plus the age difference…they probably think I’m some airhead.

As you reach the kitchen, Joel speaks, “Sarah, Tommy.” He pauses before turning to you, a small but proud smile on his face, and says, “I’d like you to meet Y/N. We’ve been dating a few weeks now.”

The two Millers at the table send you bright smiles and welcome you to their home. You give them a shy smile and a wave, slightly reassured by their hospitality. The two of them traded your plate back and forth across the table until it’s piled high with waffles, eggs, and bacon.

After a few minutes of pleasant small talk, Joel turned to Sarah and, in a more serious tone, spoke, “Now, I’m sorry I sprung this on you with no warni—“

“I already knew,” Sarah interrupted. “You were pretty insistent Uncle Tommy make plans once I told you about my sleepover at Hannah’s. Why else would you need the house all to yourself? Overnight too? Not to mention,” she paused to pop a blueberry in her mouth, “you’ve been bathing more often. Generally, looking less scruffy. I knew something was up.”

You couldn’t help but snort at her comment. Joel grumbled around a forkful of eggs, “Five minutes at breakfast and you two are already gangin’ up on me.”

Tommy rolled his eyes at his brother.

As if Joel minded that his two girls were getting along.

---

💕💕💕 Thank you for reading 💕💕💕

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for outing my sisters (SECOND) pregnancy and causing drama

I (20f) am aware that accidents happen, but she doesn't even know the man to her (22f) first (thusly no child support is involved in this equation). Discovery of this information is due to me being the one that does the bathroom trash. It was... not well hidden, to say the least.

Pure flavor and context, our relationship would be less rocky if she had any sense of responsibility at all. From 15 onwards constantly out of money yet up the ass of every hangout/party in town, constantly trying to make it anyone else's job to keep her entertained. Has very much dropped out of college for #1.

But, actual event wise... I get to the trash can, and I'm thinking... oh god, not again. And so soon? Because baby #1 is about 10 months (male if it matters) at sending. Mom has already bent over backwards to handle this without destroying *my* attempts at college, and there's not a doubt in my mind my sister would have gladly gone "Surprise! Not my problem now🎊! " if I'd given her the space to do so.

Phrasing it like that feels mean, but it's been 98% mom doing it all. Diapers, feedings, you name it. If it's not cute enough for social media my sister has not put her hands on it. In my moms fantasy world this was to give my sister the chance to go back to the local college.

Now at first I didn't actually plan to say much of anything. It just... seemed risky in a way I didn't want the backlash for. But a friend of mine and her girlfriend were moving, and their planned roommate bailed, and I do very much have a job an can pay rent. The nitty gritty is way more complicated than that but I'm trying to not bog this down.

I waffle for a couple of days as I process the whole thing but I commit to thinking later and acting now about moving and by what's month 1.75 I'm planning what posters of mine to take/leave. There's been a second confirming test popping up in the trash.

I have to tell my mom, finally, that in three weeks to a month I'm gone. Slightly unsurprisingly, I get asked "Well, why? Why now?"

I did kind of think through it in advance, but honestly every other small reason just... left me? I choked HARD and y'all know the blank "ohshit" moment where you've got Nothing.

It was a messy conversation and I'm skipping a lot, but thankfully dad and sis were out to not hear it. She didn't fully believe me until I walked out the door to the new appartment, and it didn't end there technically, but I just sorta grey rocked it with the sole give that I think mom is going to collapse over this because she's not twenty some anymore chasing *us*, and I think mom wasn't processing it either until I was out the door.

Final stage, I've packed and am seconds from leaving. Mom asks one final question of "What exactly would you suggest here, if it's real, then" in that tone where it's not about getting real answers, it's about shaming me. She is scathingly told to make my sister homeless about it if she doesn't abort, so that it'll maybe motivate her to at least get child support if not put a stop to the slope of shitting them out like litters.

Roommates are fine thus far, but I'm introverted and don't really leave my room unless I need something so the space for conflicts are minimal. So I'm a week into the new apartment (thusly she's 3 to 3.25 months pregnant) when I get a heated, ranting phone call. I sure hope you can figure out who's calling that's *mad*.

First of all apparently I'm a cunt for taking the joy of announcement away from my, as she tried and got "We know." Because that is so fucking important for a college drop out on kid #2 to have, apparently.

More interestingly I'm apparently a double cunt because mom had been toying with asking me for rent, as my sister doesn't work either and babies are expensive. This was not aired to me by mom herself, but even if I hadn't asked her myself afterwards I wouldn't have doubted that part.

And I'm apparently a mega triple cunt, because (as I turned around to interrogate mom about because. What?) mom had a crystalizing moment where it did very much click to her that my sister had no intentions of stepping up in anyway shape or form. Why she's jumped straight to "you abort or gtfo" like I suggested to be an asshole didn't get cleared up to me beyond "No, no. You're right. Responsibility must be taken."

A different friend has asked where the fucks my dad in this; spinless with no opinion because if he dares to dissent he'll implode. Moving on.

I think that while I might have jumped sharks everyone else is now on a plane of drama that I don't need to follow, and should in fact be kept the fuck out of. I also think I've also hit an anger stage of this whole situation so trust in my own narrative should be cautious.

I'm gonna, like, pause the emotional train here? And mention that I'm not asking about moving out. I'll be guilty about moving out specifically when my sister sucks my dick for forgiveness (note my 20f label). But this has dropped an emotional bomb in the family and my friend groups interconnected enough that they'd've heard about it even if I said nothing, and this is now hotly debated (and most of my friends are on mute on my phone lol), and by now it's no secret the ''make her homeless'' idea first came out of MY mouth, no matter how mortifying it is that it was taken seriously on impulse arguing about it is about seven steps behind where the debate needs to be.

Again, I'm at the point of anger feeling good. She gets irresponsibly knocked up once already, drops out of college and refuses to get a job, and then runs off and does it again after dumping all real work onto other people. I think she's lost the right to have happy fun time pregnancy, and I'm here to get a (late) opinion from people decidedly more objective than anyone I can speak to rn. It's not like the pregnancy won't be here in the time this takes to move through queue.

What are these acronyms?

[feltit-wroteit]

Better For Me. Not You.

Jean-Pierre Magnan x Reader

Your boyfriend doesn't understand why you need to attend school when you have him to teach you. But, for you, there is nothing more important than getting an high education. A fight might be what your boyfriend needs in order to not make a fuss at school.

You had arrived in France after your parents decided England had became to bland. Sure it was a huge change, but not a sad one. You didn't have a lot of friends back in England so nothing was left when you set trail. But here, it was perfect.

On your first day, your parents went to buy some meet at the Magnan's and that is where you met Jean-Pierre. You two immediately clicked and the rest was history. It started with you going back every few days to purchase new meat and finished with Jean-Pierre courting you and becoming your boyfriend. It wasn't hard for you to fall in love with him. He was like the men you read about in your books that your parents had bought when moving here.

Jean-Pierre taught you everything he knew when you had asked him if he could. Schools for girls were very prestegious and you hadn't known a thing beside litterature. He was the perfect teacher. Always taking his time when you didn't understand something. You now were almost his equal which meant you were more than an average student. That is what your boyfriend said anyways and that was enough validation for you.

Recently though, the relationship had been rocky. Jean-Pierre's school was oppening its door for a few girls and you had gotten and acceptable letter three weeks ago. It was your first day today, and officially the one week mark of you not talking to your boyfriend. He probably thought that he was the one ignoring you, but it was the other way around. You couldn't even look at him after what had happened that afternoon while you guys were havimg à nice pic-nic.

-One week ago-

"Fuck! I don't want you too. It should be the only good reason!" You looked at him and waited for him to say he was joking. Hoping he was joking. Nothing came..."I don't know what to say Jean-Pierre-" "Don't say anything. Just do as I say." Of course you knew your boyfriend had controling tendencies but he had never used them on you. "Jean-Pierre Magnan. You will not speak to me like that. I deserve respect. Besides, it doesn't matter what you want in this." He scoffed. "Well, yeah it does." You looked at him and finally decided to put your sandwich down. Your appetite was no longer there. "Oh yeah? And how may that be true? Explain away." You motioned for him to do so after whipping your hand clean from your lunch's remnants. "I am your future husband after all." He looked ta you with fire in his eyes. You looked at him with disgust. "What is that suppose to mean? That I can't be a good wife because I have an education. That I am less than a woman for wanting to do something that only men had the right to do not so long ago but should be reachable to anyone? You digust me right now Magnan." You voiced your thoughts and let your frustration take over. "No. But it means that you have me and that is plenty enough to learn- I don't want you around all these boys! There I said it." He tried to reach for your hand thinking this thing was resolved and it was now your turn to scoff. "How much of a man are you? Maybe I shouldn't be your wife since you think me for a brainless damsel who will jump at any boy in my usual unfaithfulness? You are selfish." You said as you pulled your hand from his getting up. He got up with you and you saw the regret painted on your face. But it was too late. "Y/N... That is not what I meant. I was being selfish. Pardon me, please?" "Good to see you taking responsibility for your actions. But your selfishness will get us nowhere. Maybe me going to school isn't good in your books, but in mine? It is too good to be true. And you, of all people, know how bad I want this. Shame on you Magnan." You stabbed his chest with your index finger and let tears fall from your eyes. "I am so sorry, darling. Please forgive me. I lost my thoughts-I-I..." You looked in his eyes and pulled your finger away from his chest. Silence was the inly thing leaving your mouth and that didn't sit well with your boyfriend. You picked your stuff up from the ground and went to leave. "What are you doing, Y/N?" He followed you slightly. You turned around and made a distance with your hand gently placed on his abdomen. "I think it's better if we both take time to breath. See you at school Jean-Pierre." You turned your back to him once more and left.

Jean-Pierre sat back down and slammed his fist on the grass after gripping his hair by the roots. "Fuck!"

-Now-

You were looking at the class board and you noticed your name after some slight searching. Right beside his. You sighed and went to see the other girls that had arrived. This day would be a long one.

When you entered your classroom, Jean-Pierre had kept you a seat beside him and smiled at you. You smiled slightly and went to sit at an empty desk. First period was soent with him looking at you and you trying to focus and answer all of the teachers' questions. The teachers were pretty impression and the other boys were now looking at you too. Not in any way were you comfortable. They were looking at you like a rat in a labotary. Maybe you should've sat with your boyfriend at the front.

When it was time for lunch, you made your way to the cafeteria but were snatched from the waist. You let a squeak out and landed in a man's embrace. "Let go of me! I'm married!" You screamed and only heard a laugh. "We're married now? I thought we were at the divorce stage, darling." The man let you go and you replaced your hair. "Jean-Pierre." You curtsied. "Oh dear Y/N, please forgive me? I can't live with the thought of you hating me. I admit, I was dumb." You looked him dead in the eye and nodded. "I trust you. But please, promise me to never be this controling of me ever again. I won't let it slide quite easily next time." You stayed cold and he nodded fastly. He went forward and reached for your hand. He laid a quick but soft kiss on your lips and smiled "I promise, darling! But can tou sit next to me? A compromise? I don't like all of them eating you up from their stares. I know you answering all the question is attractive, but only I can look at you with wanting eyes. Right?" You both laughed slightly. "Of course my love. Besides I was not comfortable amd want to dedicate all of my attention to the subject at hand." He smiled at you and replaced a stray strand of hair behind your ear. "Good." He kissed you again. "Good you replied with a smile.

While walking to the cafeteria, your head was rethinking of specific thing your boyfriend had said in that room. "So... You were dumb, huh? Do I make your head go mushy, mister Magnan?" You nudged your shoulder against his. "Oh shut it! You're stupid-" You faked a dramatic gasp. "Take thay back right now, Jean-Pierre Magnan!" There was a beat of silence before you burst in laughter.

[differenteagletragedy]

Based on what happens when you have feelings for Baxter in Step 4 but turn him down when he confesses his love for yooooou :)

Nights had always been hard for Baxter. They were when he felt most alert, sure, but being alert also meant being aware. And for Baxter, that meant being aware of how alone he was.

But ever since he reconnected with you, nights had become something he looked forward to.

It had been a few months since you and Baxter had run into each other in the days leading up to Jude and Scott's wedding. It had only taken days for him to fall back in love with you, or rather to admit that he'd never actually fallen out of love with you, but you were more hesitant.

"I'm sorry, Baxter, I can't," you told him after he confessed his feelings to you. "Maybe someday, but right now..."

"I see," he'd replied, and he did see. It hurt, of course, but he understood perfectly why you weren't ready to jump into a relationship with him.

But you'd left the door open for a reconciliation. And he wasn't going to miss his chance again.

Things started out slow -- after your late night conversation in the office, he took you back to your apartment and walked you to your door like the gentleman that he was. The next day, you'd invited him to hang out with your friends, something he was so thankful for.

He didn't want to come on too strong, to appear too excited to actually have people in his life, so he waited a few days to ask you out for coffee. He sent you texts sporadically, and when you answered he agonized about how long he should wait to reply.

But as the weeks went on, you spent more and more time together. The natural flirt in him came out more, and he started noticing you being more responsive to it. It was a wonderful feeling.

Soon, you spent more nights together than you did apart. Not full nights -- though he was desperate to have you in his bed, to hold you, to wake up with you in his arms -- but evenings. When you were both done with work, you'd come over to his apartment and he'd cook dinner for you, or he'd come over to yours and take you out. Sometimes after you'd go dancing, sometimes you'd watch a movie.

As time went on, the dances got more and more intimate in tiny little increments. You sat closer together when you watched TV, and paid less attention to plots and more attention to each other. It took longer to say goodnight.

One night, you were over at his place for another homecooked meal. He was by the counter, putting the finishing touches on a dish before he put it in the oven, and you took the opportunity to put on some music, looking back at him just in time to see him smiling.

Baxter slid the pan into the oven, set a timer, and turned to you. With a dramatic flourish, so silly it made you laugh, he bowed and extended his hand to you. When you took it, he pulled you in close. Closer than people who were just friends would dance.

"May I let you in on something?" he asked softly after a few minutes. You pulled back to look at him and saw that his cheeks were pink, but he was still wearing a small smile.

"Of course," you answered.

"I just wanted you to know -- it felt important to let you know -- that while my feelings for you remain the same, I'm not doing all of this because I'm expecting any sort of return," he said.

"What do you mean?"

He paused for a moment, the same smile, almost pained, remaining on his face. You felt him give your hand a squeeze, then he said, "If you were to one day return my feelings, that would be wonderful. But I'm not spending all of this time with you because I want to woo you. This means ... you mean more to me than that. Even if no romance were to ever blossom between us again, these moments with you have meant more to me than I can possibly say."

You took a beat to consider what he said. You took him in, the consummate gentleman in front of you who you'd fallen in love with all those years ago and who managed to work his way back into your heart after breaking it back then. He was being sincere in saying that all of that -- you knew that. And it meant more to you than you ever could have imagined.

"Baxter," you began, moving your hand to toy with the collar of his shirt. He hummed in response, and you said, "What if I want you to though?"

"What if you want me to what?"

"Woo me."

For the first time since he began talking, his smile faltered. His feet stopped moving, so you stopped with him, and slowly, the hand that had been holding yours moved to cup your cheek.

You gave him a small nod, and he closed the distance between you.

Baxter hadn't been lying when he told you that he'd become quite the impressive cook, but that night the dinner he'd prepared for you went to waste. By the time his timer went off, clothes were strewn around the kitchen -- he barely remembered to put on mitts when he pulled the dish out of the oven, shirt off, hair a mess and pants unbuttoned and hanging loosely around his hips. It set on the counter, forgotten, as he led you towards his bedroom, but you only made it as far the couch before your hands found their way back to each other.

He'd had to wait for you to be ready to welcome him back into your heart, but that was fine with him. He was a patient man. And the next morning when he woke up, still pressed against you, feeling your warmth, he was overcome with emotion. For this, he would have waited a lifetime.

[awarmbowlofhomemadesoup]

How to Build Resilience in Long Fanfic Writing

Sometimes, when a fanfic goes past 20 chapters, people who had been commenting, began to lose interest. Maybe you'll start doubting your skill or whether you "have what it takes" to be a writer, even if you're doing it for fun.

But maybe you see all those beautifully written but unfinished long fics and mourn that they'll never be finished (for the writer's valid reason or another). And you don't want that to happen to yours.

There is also an advantage to completing long fics: you develop the discipline to write original novels which can take far longer.

So if you're in for the long haul and you want to stay steady and true despite whatever popularity your fic may have, here's how to have the resilience to finish it to the end.

(Disclaimer: this is not a reason to stop commenting on fics)

#1 Whatever You Think You're Owed, Let It Go.

Accidentally quoting Elsa aside, I'm talking about comments. Comments validate and can make you learn new things about your fics through other people's eyes.

But when you see a high-to-low ratio between kudos and comments, you may feel like you are owed.

When you push yourself to complete three long chapters and publish them all in the same day and only get one response, it can feel like people are being mean.

The truth is, we'll never know why the people who loved our fics will not talk to you about them.

Maybe they forget there's a person behind the fic.

Maybe they're having a bad day and just want to shut down after reading something enjoyable.

But whatever the case is, it's beyond your control.

This post said it best (shoutout to @radioactive-earthshine) :

"Remember - hits/likes/kudos/comments are not reflective of the quality of your fic or your ability to write. Most people just don’t comment - even if they say they do, they don’t... Even if your fic brought tears to their eyes and it haunted them for weeks and they printed it out and sent it to their friends they just don’t comment. You just have to accept it.

I'm not saying you force yourself to let it go now. But someday, you will need to let it go, and control what you can which is you.

#2 Put Your Life First Before Your Readers

I have to say this because sometimes writers would have thoughts like "I haven't written for a long time; people must be wondering about it." Nope. Stop. Not worth it.

Creating is fun, but it is also exhausting. Add into the fact that most of us have 8-hour jobs or classes.

The reason you haven't written for a long time is that other aspects of your life deserve your time and energy, too. And after all that, you would be understandably tired.

So put your life first before your readers.

#3 Make Preparations to Replenish Your Soul

Long fanfic writing is energy and time-consuming. But you cannot depend on external validation to make up for it.

External validation in the form of comments can be good because we don't want to imagine it's all in our heads. But seeking it too much leads to what I've read in the book, "Ego is the Enemy":

"If outside validation is your only source of nourishment, you will hunger for the rest of your life."

So before posting a chapter, list down what you can do to replenish your soul after. Treating myself to a cafe one time helped. So is taking walks when the air is cool.

To stop anticipating responses too much, what works for me is to post on Wednesday. Wednesday is when people are less busy. At the same time, when the weekend comes, I don't obsess over it so much and can focus on other aspects of my life or replenish my energy for the next week.

In the commitment to complete a long fic, it's important to be honest with yourself. This is to be transparent with your needs and watch out for any signs of burnout, like feeling sad and tired. If you need to walk away from your fic for a while, then do it.

#3 This is Between You and Your Creation

Yes, fandom should be two-way street. Yes, fandom shouldn't treat fanfics and fan arts like commodity. And yes, there should be interaction and engagement. But before all that, there is this thing between you and your creation first and foremost.

Just as a story has to have a "why", remember why you thought you should write your long fic. Your reason may change over time, but when you remember your "why", you remember your true goal to keep going.

#4 Write like No One is Reading

This is a perk I adapted when I only get two responses if I'm lucky after updating a fic that has more than a hundred subscribers. If people barely react, then you're free to write whatever you please in your story as if you're dancing like no one is watching. Just have fun improving your skills.

This is similar to an inspiring section of the same post that I've found:

"10.) Write for yourself, not for others. Write the fic you know no one is going to read. Write the fic that sounds ridiculous. You will be so happy you put it out in the world and there will be people who will be glad it exists."

#5 Cherish the Rare Friends You Find Along the Way

Sometimes, we get lucky and get something better than a hundred people interacting with our fic -we find a friend we would make in the way of writing the long fic that we dared to write. And they're the ones who would cheer you on and cry and laugh with you about the shared stories. Cherish them.

(dedicated to @lightreader1)

[the-marvelclub]

While you were sleeping | Bucky Barnes

Part 2.

series masterlist

Summary: Reader is in love with the mysterious man who goes every week to the bar where she works. When one night she witnesses a fight that leaves the man in a coma and he´s taken to the hospital, she is mistaken for his fiancée, unaware that the mysterious man is Steve Rogers himself. With no family and after losing everything in The Blip, reader becomes captivated with Steve's friends and their unconditional love for her that she can't bring herself to tell the truth. Things get complicated when she finds herself falling for Steve's best friend, Bucky.

Exhausted, you walked down the busy street that led to Joe's bar. The previous hours had not turned out as you would've hoped. After the outburst of emotions at the hospital from Steve's friends, you could feel the headache coming on. You weren't even sure why you hadn't been able to tell the truth at that precise moment, heck, you weren't even a good liar. But for the first time in a long time, you were overcome with a feeling you thought you would never feel again, warmth. It was so familiar yet so foreign at the same time. Soon you realized that your presence there meant something more important to them; hope. Hope of finally knowing what had happened to Steve in the last few years, hope to find out who was responsable for his situation or maybe the opportunity of having him back, you couldn't be sure, but they had welcomed you with such kindness and gratitude, that you couldn't bring yourself to tell the truth.

So when they were getting everything ready to take Steve to the avengers compound, you took the opportunity to return home in hopes of getting some sleep, knowing that Steve was in good hands and that he would be better. A sigh of relieve left your body as you opened the door to your apartment, without even caring about changing your clothes, you lay on your bed and fell asleep.

Joe was leaning on the bar as he stared at you in shock trying to process what you just told him.

“Are you crazy?" he finally opened his mouth after what seemed like an eternity. "Steven doesn't even know you exist."

“Is Steve, and thank you for that" you sighed putting your head in your hands, you had hope that the horrible headache was gone by now, clearly you were wrong. And if that wasn't bad enough, you had found out that the men from last night that attack Steve had disappeared on the way to the police station, as if they had vanished into thin air. Part of you feared they would come for you.

"Let me get this straight" he put aside the glass cup he was cleaning and looked at you "you've fooled the mightiest superheroes in the universe into believing that Steve Rogers, who you've never talked to and who you didn’t even know who he really was less than 24 hours ago, is your fiancé."

I cringe.

"Well, it sounds crazier if you put it that way."

"It is crazy either way" he replied "what have you gotten yourself into? What if those men in the alley find out about it too? What if they come after you to get to him? What if Steve wakes up and see a stranger who claims to be his fiancée hanging out with his friends".

The thought had crossed your mind, things seemed to be getting more and more complicated, you knew you had to tell the truth and that is what you planned to do, but somehow the thought of never seeing Steve again was unbearable.

Joe sighed putting his hand on your shoulder as he saw the anguish on your face, "Y/n... h-how much can you really love someone you don't even know?" he stared at you with sorrow, he paused for a moment as if he weren´t sure of his next question. "Are you sure this isn't about Ryan?

You froze. It had been a long time since you'd heard that name, you hadn't even allowed yourself to think about that name and the person it belonged to. He knew that. "It's just, he looked so much like Steve, maybe the only thing you love about Steve is just that."

You swallowed feeling the tears starting to sting your eyes. You didn't want to talk about it. "I'll tell them the truth Joe, I just need a little time to figure out how to do it." you sighed "but first, remember the time you mentioned you knew the address of Steve's apartment?" you said trying to sound as casual as you could.

Joe narrowed his eyes and looked at you curiously.

"Maybe..." he dragged out "what are you getting at?"

"Natasha sent me a text, she invited me to dinner tonight at the compound, but before that she asked if I could pick up some clothes for Steve at his apartment and I said yes." You said quickly, evading the gaze of your boss in front of you.

"Well of course, what kind of fiancée wouldn't know where her future husband lives, right?" He said rolling his eyes.

After begging some more he finally gave you the adress, in fact, Steve's apartment wasn't too far from the bar so you headed to the address Joe gave you. You had to find a way to get in and get his clothes before tonight's dinner.

You sighed staring at the big brown door in front of you, after 4 flights of stairs you found the apartment, you had to find some way to get in without looking like you were trespassing, maybe you could try to explain the situation to the doorman so he would give you an extra key or something. You were about to go back when you heard a deep voice you didn't recognize behind you.

"So are you gonna open the door or stare at it for another 3 minutes."

You let out a squeal turning around with your heart pounding in your chest. Blue eyes met yours, he was leaning on the stair railing, wearing a cap that covered his brown hair, and a black shirt that accentuated his broad shoulders. You had never seen him before but once again he looked vaguely familiar. His intense gaze swept over you from head to toe.

"I'm James... Bucky, Bucky Barnes. Steve's best friend" oh great, more friends "you must be y/n, right? Steve's fiancée" he added in an ambiguous tone. He cocked his head to the side and you flinched, a part of you felt exposed under his scrutinizing gaze. As if he was able to see right behind your cheap facade.

Red covered your cheeks as anxiety took over your body.

"U-um... yeah" you cursed yourself internally for stuttering so much "I-I don't remember meeting you."

"That's because we haven´t" his answer was dry as he started walking towards you "so? are you gonna open that door? I suppose you have an extra key, don't you?

"S-sure..." you mumbled, with shaky hands you put your arm up over the door frame praying that Steve was one of those people who left an extra key there just in case. You were thinking of what excuse to use for the intimidating man waiting behind you when your fingers touched something metallic. Bingo. "This is where we keep it" you smiled showing him the small key, he looked surprised for a moment but was quick to hide it, back to his serious face.

"How did you know where he lives?" you asked cautiously as you opened the apartment door. If he was part of Steve's friends, he wouldn't know of his whereabouts for the last 2 years either.

"I stopped by Joe's bar" he simply replied following you inside the apartment "Natasha told me I could find you there, so I went, Joe gave me the location and told me you would be here picking up some things."

The apartment didn´t looked like much, a small brown couch, a TV, the little kitchen on the right side, and a hallway that led to what you suppose would be the bedroom.

"So how long have you two been together?" you turned quickly, Bucky Barnes was going through the papers scattered on the coffee table in the living room.

"Oh, Steve and I?" you muttered "since September 17th" you said the first thing that came to mind.

Shit.

"Huh" he put down the papers and looked at you with a frown "so four months, that's pretty fast".

More like less than 12 hours, but he didn't have to know that yet "You have no idea".

You slipped away quickly to the bedroom before Bucky could think of any more questions. You knew he would find out soon, you could sense it in the way he looked at you. There were no thank yous, no tears or hugs like with Natasha and Steve's friends. No, with Bucky Barnes there were only doubts and mistrust.

Your eyes roamed the room, the bed was unmade, there were still clothes on the floor, cds of old rock bands and history books lay on the side table. You fixed your eyes on the dresser next to the door and checked the drawers for Steve's clothes.

Placing the clothes in the bag you had with you, you headed for the living room, Bucky was inspecting the place as if he was trying to look for signs that this was, in fact, Steve's apartment. You forced yourself to look into his eyes, unruly strands of dark hair sticking out of his cap as he tilted his head and looked at you. "Can you pour me a glass of water, please?" he said casually but his eyes reflected a deeper motive.

"Um, sure," you ran your hand over your damp forehead as you headed to the kitchen. "I don't remember seeing you at the hospital," you said, making conversation out of him, hoping he wouldn't notice that you didn't know where the damn glasses were.

"I just got back from a mission" he responded but you didn't pay attention to him, you opened the cabinet in front of you, revealing two boxes of cereal and some canned goods, you closed it quickly and opened the next one.

"You don't know where the glasses are kept?" you heard his voice right behind you, you turned around, he was just a few steps away from you, the corner of his lips turned up, as if he thought it was funny. As if he knew the answer to his question. He was testing you.

You forced yourself to smile at him, trying to act casual about it. “Yeah, it's just that Steve sometimes moves them around.”

"Yes, I'm sure".

"Ha! see, here they are" you said triumphantly opening another of the cabinets. A hand behind you closed it before you could take one of the glasses.

"You know what? I'm not thristy anymore," he replied with a low laugh as he took some keys out of the pocket of his blue jeans. "We better get going, I have a feeling it's going to be a very interesting dinner."

[theficpusher]

My Little Poet by Thingssicant | G | 1861 Louis is a librarian and someone keeps ruining his books

don't be shy, i'm your guy by winterPearls | nr | 4658 "...Harry wondered if this pixie of a boy with crinkles by his long lashed eyes had a personality as addictive and loud as his laugh that reverberated around the otherwise silent library..." or AU where Harry is a cute librarian that really likes one of the boys that is a regular and he just wants to talk to him but he's shy and it's cute honestly i just suck at summarizing

Just Jump by jaerie | E | 9748 Finally, after years of suffering alone, the insurance plan at Harry's new job covered omega heat services. As a grown omega adult, it finally felt like the right time to try it out. And, since taking an entire week of heat leave would really put him behind at work, using a service to shorten it seemed like a responsible decision. At least that’s how he rationalized it. He was nervous about his decision but it was too late. The doorbell rang. “Hi!” The alpha said again and Harry took the hand he offered and shook it firmly. “I’m Louis from Omega Services. It’s nice to meet you.”

Record Your Fate (and Write Me In) by LadyLondonderry | T | 13012 Harry is the Archivist, it's his job to record what happens in the universe. He's only a few days into the job when things take an odd turn. Suddenly, the small blue eyed boy seems more important than writing about crowning dignitaries.

If the Surface Begs You Home by QuickedWeen | T | 17752 Harry is a mermaid from the underwater kingdom of Mercadia who is a little too fascinated by life above the surface. He's kicked out of his home after he winds up pregnant, and has to figure out how to make his way in the world. Louis is the darling of the small neighbouring seaside village who came home after university to take over their local library, and can't seem to stay away from the mysterious pregnant mermaid his friends introduce him to.

Checking Them Out?: How To Use Your Library Science Degree To Get an Alpha by InsightfulInsomniac | E | 19965 When a flirty, attractive alpha patron checks out an entire shelf of literature on omega behavior and omega rights, Harry can’t help but wonder why the man is so interested — is he a really attentive partner, or is he just a creep? It doesn’t help that this alpha visits weekly to exchange his books… and that he smells absolutely divine. Whether he likes it or not, Harry has a crush.

The Library Universe [Series] by allwaswell16 | E | 33825 Harry Styles has a great life. He’s a children’s librarian at the New York Public Library, he’s got wonderful friends, and he loves cooking, green tea, yoga, and his collection of bow ties. He doesn’t mind that his life seems a little structured, maybe even a little boring. But when Louis Tomlinson joins the library staff as the new Installation Coordinator, things become a lot less predictable. Louis gets under his skin right from the start, bossing Harry around, making noise during story time, and eating the last cupcake in the staff lounge. Louis may be almost offensively attractive, but Harry will not be succumbing to Louis Tomlinson’s charms, even if the rest of the library staff have.

i was yours (i wish you were mine) by staybeautiful | E | 56283 “Harry Styles!” His name rang out clear through the city streets. He turned quickly back to the bar, startled by his own name and startled by the voice that called him. Standing in the doorway to the bar, back lit and glowing slightly was Louis. Not an eighteen year old apparition dressed in the same low slung blue jeans and t-shirt with swooping bangs that was always the image in his mind. No, he was Louis now. or Ten years ago Harry dropped his best friend and high school boyfriend off at the train station and never saw him again. Now, he's twenty seven, living in NYC, and dreadfully unlucky in love. He can't stop wistfully thinking of Louis promising that they'd see each other again in ten years time. A chance meeting outside a bar has them tumbling head first into a summer of music, milkshakes, and maybe each other.

Through Eerie Chaos by MediaWhore | G | 102104 For as long as anyone can remember, Old Hillsbridge Manor has always been believed to be haunted. Everyone in the village agrees and keeps a respectful, fearful, distance. New in town after a bad breakup and an internship that led to disappointment rather than a permanent job, Harry Styles figures taking pictures of the decrepit building could be a great new creative project. Or at least a much-needed distraction while he searches for a job and crashes at his parents’ new house. No one warned him about the apparitions though; about the music, the laughter, the people who flicker and vanish when you call after them, the echoes of a past that should be long gone… Harry has never believed in spirits but even he can admit that there’s something weird going on. What starts as mere curiosity evolves into a full-blown investigation and soon enough, Harry finds himself making friends with an aristocrat from the 1920s and struggling with finding the best way to tell him that he’s dead. The Ghost Hunter AU where Niall lives to prove ghosts are real, Zayn is a skeptical librarian and Harry gets caught up in a century-old mystery and catches feeling in the process.

[lolliepops-rox]

It's very interesting to me, as a newer Homestuck fan, to see all the extensions for the offical-unoffical archives that 'fix'/remove 'problems' or 'problematic' parts of Homestuck. I was on Tumblr when Homestuck was at its peak and reblogged all the cute ship art, follow the outrageous ask blogs, my best friend did read it as it was still coming out¹. But I never actually read the comic itself, just kind waves from the sidelines. But I wasn't there to experience the big controversies in real time (i.e. 'peachy'). Hussie is not above critique, but I don't think he's a bigot or even a bad person. What he is, is a troll. A classic 2006 'I said something fucked up not because I believed it, but to get a reaction.' Which, I can see to someone who missed that time of the internet, and only knows now. In which people say those fucked up things, to get a reaction and cause they believe it.

And so to see people younger than me, but have joined the fandom at the same time as me, not understand this context, it feels wrong. The things people are willing to sweep under the rug cause it conflicts with their morals vs the things they condemn and blame Hussie for.

Homestuck is a very long, very complicated, but very important piece of art. To not consider every facet of it does it a disservice.

For something made by a 2006 troll, it put a lot of queer characters worth caring about in it. The alpha kids & trolls both exist to be parodies of their beta counterparts. This is partly why Dirk is queer, and that Dirk refuses a label. But is still allowed to opening like, then date, then break up with a boy. It's a response to how the fandom wrote & treated Dave. For those who know it, compare the S19Ep6 of South Park, Tweek X Craig. Matt & Trey, who in my opinion embody the same sort of troll sense of humour Hussie has, handle fandom making their characters being gay quite differently. Tweek & Craig in this EP aren't treated as genuinely queer characters, but the kids trapped in what the town has decided are wacky hijinks of this week. It's not necessarily bad, but compared to Dirk it feels way less genuine.

There's topics I can't talk on fully like the way Hussie's racial biases appear in various characters, as I'm from a completely different country. But in my very non-american opinion, it reads more as 'someone who has never thought to question the stereotypes they were raised with', than as someone who is genuinely and actively racist. There is a difference, and as a mixed kid that's important to me.

I'm not really sure how physically disabled people feel about the way Hussie wrote their physically disabled characters (but if people have written about this I'd love to read and linked to me) but he definitely uses mental disabilities/illnesses as a substitute for the word 'quirky' without thinking much about it (i.e. Nepeta is off-handedly called autistic) it's not really great, but the bar is so low when it comes to these things that my tourettic ass cling to Mituna like a lifeline.

Maybe I had a further point here. Maybe my point was just antis in the Homestuck fandom is still weird to me when there's canon incest. Maybe I've drunk a fair bit of vodka while writing this. I have work in the morning. Good night beloved tumblrinas.

¹she gave me classpect and everything, and it's the one I use to this day, despite having a completely different theory on how classpects work. I also joined a cosplay ask blog despite never reading Homestuck (at the time) cos she asked me to (simp) and bought black lipstick to do AMom.

[sainzfilm]

💟 first love - mick schumacher 💟

summary: you told yourself that you’ve moved on, zero feelings for the blonde boy that lived next door. what happens when your family invites him over without your knowledge?

taglist: @svechyaho @squderia @idkiwantchocolatee @melonunicornbby @koufaxx @myescapefromthislife @pachiibatt @clcspeonies @estevries @sidcrosbyspuck @barzysreputation @mick2mercedes @mehrmonga

check out my winter wonderland celebration!

⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅∙∘☽༓☾∘∙•⋅⋅⋅•⋅⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅

Humming a Christmas tune, you went through your closet, trying to find an outfit for tonight’s little family dinner that your mom insisted on.

“Honey?” Your mother called through the door, softly knocking and peering her head in, “You busy?”

“Just looking for something to wear tonight, mom,” You smiled, turning to her, “What’s up?”

“Oh nothing,” She smiled, shaking her head, “Could I ask for a favor?”

Nodding in response, you sat on your bed and shrugged, “What is it?”

“Just open the door when someone knocks,” Your mother replied, an unfamiliar tone to her voice, “I’ll be out with your dad and Lucy.”

“Of course, I’ll get ready before then,” You said, standing up and going back to your closet to pick out an outfit, “What to wear…”

It wasn’t long enough when you were all ready, which was a little less than an hour later. Making your way downstairs to the living room, you sat down on the couch and mindlessly scrolled through your phone, waiting for your mother’s guest.

A few minutes later, a knock on the door interrupted your thoughts. Huffing, you stood up to open the door, only to come face to face with the person you least expected.

Mick stood there with a small smile, holding a wine bottle in his hands, “Uh, hi Y/N.”

“Mick, hi,” You blurted out, blinking a few times and opened the door wider, “Come on in. I can take that from you.”

As you took the bottle from Mick, he put his hands in his pockets and followed you, “So, how…have you been?”

“I’ve been good, I think,” You chuckled nervously, setting the bottle down on the table, “You? I haven’t seen you in a while.”

“Been busy here and there,” He replied, “I didn’t know you came back from Madrid.”

“Yeah,” You grabbed a glass and filled it with water, handing it over to him, “I just arrived last week.”

“You know, it’s really nice to see you,” Mick took a sip of his water, setting it down on the table and followed you to the patio, “I haven’t seen you in forever.”

“It was just a year and a half,” You replied, taking a seat across him, “Not that my absence mattered.”

“And it still felt like forever,” Mick looked at you, a soft smile on his face, “You were my best friend growing up, I’m bound to miss you.”

Best friend. You couldn’t help but mentally grimace from the pain that your younger self had to go through from that thought alone – ditching every school dance because you couldn’t care any less if it meant to see him with another girl or listening to him talk about his crush for hours at an end.

Letting out a deep breath, you smiled bitterly at him, “Yeah.”

It wasn’t hard to deny that there was unresolved tension in the air between you, Mick wasn’t an idiot to miss that. He still held himself liable as to why you moved to Madrid, an argument pushing you to do so.

Mick sighed, crossing his arms and avoiding your gaze, “You’re still…mad at me, aren’t you?”

“Of course not,” You laughed, rolling your eyes and turning to look at him with a glare, “Past is past, isn’t it?”

“Out of all the things I could associate with you,” Mick scoffed, looking at you, “A liar isn’t one of them.”

“What do you want me to say?” You raised an eyebrow, “Oh, I’m so mad at you Mick. For all the times that you’ve let me down because you were too busy.”

“I apologized for those times,” Mick grumbled, tapping his foot on the wooden floor, “You know that.”

“Sure, maybe because my events are not as important as yours,” You muttered, leaning back on the seat, “It just fucking sucked that I was there for you every time as a proper best friend should have been.”

Running a hand down his face, he looked at you, “Is that really just the reason?”

“Yeah, that’s it,” You frowned, picking at the loose ends of your skirt, “Just drop it. I don’t even know why my mom invited you over.”

Mick sat in silence, drumming his fingers on his leg and glancing at you every now and then, “I went after you at the airport the day you were going to leave.”

“Mick, just drop it,” You muttered, “Please.”

“I was going to tell you that…” Mick trailed off, taking a deep breath and looking at you, “I was going to tell you that I loved you.”

Feeling your breath hitch, you couldn’t bring yourself to look at him in the eye, how could he even say that to you at this time? At a time that you’ve told yourself over and over that you’ve moved on for good?

“I still do,” Mick whispered, looking away from you for a moment, “And I don’t want to cause you any more pain if you don’t feel the same way.”

Anxiously tapping your foot on the floor, you sighed and ran a hand through your hair, “You know the shit that people say? First love never dies kind of crap?”

Mick nodded, unsure of what you were trying to point out, “I’ve heard of it.”

“I moved to Madrid because I was finally done pining after you, when you couldn’t bother to look my way anymore,” You laughed, feeling like a fool and shaking your head, “But then, here you are admitting that you still do. Jesus Christ, I’ve moved on.”

“Have you really?” He retorted, standing up and looking down at you, “Look in my eyes and tell me you’ve moved on, then I’ll drop it.”

Standing up in front of him, you crossed your arms and mumbled, “I’ve moved on.”

Mick raised an eyebrow, cupping a hand to his ear, “Can’t hear you.”

“I fucking hate you,” You grumbled, throwing your hands up in the air, “Fine! I haven’t moved on! There! Are you happy?”

Mick couldn’t help but smile as he looked at you fondly, his heart racing a bit faster than usual, “So…can I court you?”

“Court me?“ You looked at him, incredulously, “What are we? Teenagers?”

“If it means that I’ll get you to say yes,” He shrugged, “Then I’ll court you.”

Mentally scolding yourself, you felt your heart beat faster and your cheeks turning red from Mick changing to be someone better than he used to be towards you.

“I’m certain this was a set-up by my mom,” You said, “But, if you mess up, I could leave as easily as I did back then.”

“So…can I,” Mick trailed off, biting the inside of his cheek, “Kiss you?”

Looking up at him, you blinked a few times and slowly nodded, “Don’t make me regret my decision, Schumacher.”

Mick smiled brightly, nodding as he leaned in to kiss you, whispering, “Oh, I definitely won’t.”

[trainsinanime]

Okay, I apologize, but I don't understand all these complaints about Ladynoir and Adrienette. The problem here is not whether people like Adrienette or not, but that everyone portrays Adrien purely as an accessory to Ladynoir. Maybe I'm surprising someone with this, but Adrienette is no less important than Ladynoir; it's just that their interactions are more frequent due to the "Monster of the Week" formula, while Adrien's appearances on the screen are limited to show how Gabriel isolates him. And now all of this is starting to be resolved.

To be honest, I have many questions about your reasoning. You mentioned complex feelings between them, but the problem is that there are none. Chat Noir simply decided to move on (we saw how he started distancing himself from his feelings after the illusion in "Jubilation," and in "Elation," he even explained why). His pushed behavior towards Ladybug has always been portrayed as a character flaw, considering that it sometimes led to negative consequences, which was character development. Ladybug also decided to move on as a result of everything that happened in "Elation." Therefore, there can't be any romantic complications between them at the moment.

I also don't see the show ever stating that they cannot be together because they don't know each other's secret identities. It's more about the fact that they cannot be together because Gabriel is trying to prevent it. Let's not forget that there are other couples with secret identities in the show as well.

In any case, I believe that going the Adrienette route is the right path. Going the Ladynoir route would be a step back due to a series of circumstances depicted in canon, which puts both characters' development in a corner at this stage (I could elaborate, but it would turn into a whole article). It's also not a bad thing that, despite everything happening in the second arc of the story, Ladynoir won't be together until the reveal. After all, they are still the same people. The way the Love Square is treated in the fandom, as if LS is just "Ladynoir and friends," can be quite tiresome. The hints that it will start with Adrienette were there from Season 1. It's as if people couldn't imagine that progress in romantic relationships would happen outside of Ladynoir, and now they're genuinely surprised by the outcome.

I apologize if my response seemed rude. I didn't intend to be rude. I primarily wrote that because I was surprised that you expected the collapse of Adrienette within three episodes. I understand that everyone was expecting the reveal, but it's based on the assumption that their romantic progress had to happen as Ladynoir.

Hi, thanks for the response, and don't worry, I don't think it's rude at all. That said, I disagree with parts of it.

I think you misunderstand a key part of what I was trying to say (I probably could have worded it better). I don't think either Adrinette or Ladynoir are better. I don't think "romantic progress has to happen as Ladynoir". My point is that before season 5 (even before Kwami's Choice), I thought romantic progress would involve both sides somehow. Because that is how the show has worked so far.

You're saying that post-elation, there are no complex feelings between Ladynoir. That is exactly my problem: There should be complex feelings between them! But then there just aren't any. It's very anticlimactic that both of them just go, "oh well", and move on. Frankly, between you and me, I think it's boring.

But perhaps more importantly, I think it's weird. Their feelings have grown and changed and deepened so much over the school year that lasted eight years, and that's it? They can just move on like that? It's not causing them any sleepless nights where they're wondering about their feelings? That is very surprising to me.

Aside: Chat Noir moving on from Ladybug is not good character development. For one, his crush on her was never actually a problem in itself, just the way he went about expressing it, and even that only rarely. Even if it were a problem, "moving on" isn't actually character growth. Adrien doesn't learn anything new or change his behaviour now that he's in love with Marinette, she just reciprocates his feelings. He's still the same guy as before.

Anyway, back on topic: The Love Square never used to be "Adrinette plus some other stuff", and it didn't use to be "Ladynoir plus some other stuff". It was a finely tuned balance, where the things happening as Ladynoir mattered as much as the things happening as Adrinette, but nothing was ever just a simple mirror. Adrinette grow closer, Ladynoir grow closer. Ladynoir fight and reunite, Adrinette have their own issues to solve. And most importantly, Adrinette was impossible because Ladynoir was standing in the way, and Ladynoir was impossible because Adrinette was standing in the way.

(By the way, the show actually did specifically say that they can't be together because of secret identities. Ladybug specifically told Chat Noir she can't be with him because there's someone else, in Glaciator. Adrien told Plagg and Marinette that he can't be in love with Marinette because he's in love with Ladybug, in Weredad. I'm not sure why you blame Gabriel.)

Season 5 threw that whole thing completely off balance, by literally just deleting Ladynoir for two episodes. If they had done the same thing the other way, e.g. if they had a two-parter instead where Adrien and Marinette decide they have to be in costume at all times and then started dating as Ladynoir, and then just forget about Adrinette, that would have had the exact same problems.