but it still looks decent enough

Perfect Ten

Summary:  Just like his freckles and bowlegs, Dean’s slight pudge has always been a part of himself that he’s never felt completely comfortable with.  After a few miserable days of unsuccessful dieting and choking down rabbit food, Cas reminds him exactly how beautiful he is.   

“You’re getting kinda chubby!”  

Charlie makes this remark lightly, offhandedly, as she passes by Dean on the way to breakfast that morning:  Dean had been stretching his arms overhead in a yawn so that his cotton shirt rode up over his stomach, which Charlie takes the opportunity to poke.

Startled, he looks down just in time to see the disconcerting way in which her fingertip sort of smushes into the soft, freckly flesh.  

Dean halts in his tracks, blinking comprehensively.  “Wait, what?”  is all he can think to say.

Charlie, who’d been nonchalantly continuing on her way down the hall, turns to look at him.  “Well, you don’t have to sound so offended about it,” she laughs.  “I didn’t mean it in a bad way or anything!”

Dean folds his arms defensively.  “Then what did you mean, Charles?”

“First of all, I answer only to Charlie, Ms. Bradbury, or the Illustrious Queen of Moondoor.  Next, I just meant you put on a couple pounds.  Maybe getting a bit of a tummy.  It’s no big deal.”

Dean looks comprehensively down at his stomach.  Now that he thinks about it, he has been eating more these days – he’s been going through sort of a “nesting period” during his relationship with Cas:  lots of baking pies, burgers, etc.  He didn’t think it was noticeable.  

Taking note of the gravity of his expression, Charlie laughs, punching him lightly in the shoulder.  “You don’t have to look so glum about it!  It’s cute.”

Dean glowers at her, tugging self consciously at his t-shirt.  “M’not cute,” he mutters grouchily.  “I’m a warrior.

Charlie laughs again.  “Alright, warrior.  Hurry up and take care of your morning breath – Kevin’s making waffles again!”

With that, Charlie skips off down the hall, leaving Dean to steep in his juices.  He lets Charlie laugh it off, of course – he knows she didn’t mean any harm – but the fact is, Dean’s always known he’s had a little bit of pudge around his midsection, and he’s always been the slightest bit insecure about it.  Just like his freckles and bowlegs, it’s one of the things about himself that he’s never particularly liked.  

His one solace was convincing himself that these features weren’t as noticeable to everyone else as they are to him.  Now, that seems to have changed.  

Dean pulls up the rim of his shirt, noting sourly the way in which his pudge protrudes slightly over the waistband of his pajama pants.

Suddenly he doesn’t feel so hungry anymore.

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Flux: The Beginning (M) | 01

Prequel of Bliss | parts: 01 | 02 | 03

➽ Character: Yoongi x reader x Jungkook

➽ Genre/words: Smut, Poly!AU, Slow Burn (kinda), Angst / 8,335 words

➽ Summary: One of them is your longtime crush, while the other is the man which you had shared your secrets with on many heated nights filled with lust and forbidden desire. You had sworn that it would end, and that secret crush would remain a secret. 

➽ Warning: mentions of alcohol, public sex

➽ a/n: I started planning for this prequel after a late night chat with a friend not long after Bliss and Ardour were posted (yes that was a year ago), but I never had the inspiration to write the whole thing down. I have been re-writing this piece so many times, until I feel that it is finally enough to serve as the perfect filler for Bliss. And after a long deliberation, I have decided to split the prequel in two parts. I felt that the plot was dragged to long, and I’m pretty sure I would bore the readers if I keep it as it is lol. Anyway, enjoy! 

update: I finally think it’ll be wise to post the whole series in three parts.

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La Douleur Exquise Pt 1 | Incubus!Yoongi AU

summary: in which you accidentally summon an incubus in the middle of your shitty apartment and he won’t leave until you agree to have sex with him. until then, min yoongi, incubus extraordinaire, is now your sexually promiscuous and grumpy roommate. aka, the incubus au no one fucking asked for.

warnings: demon summonings, lots of swearing, and a grumpy min yoongi (what’s new?)

genre: fluff, angst, humor, eventual smut (none in this chapter!)

words: 6.2K (FUCK!)

a/n: the preview got such good responses that I had to finish this right away! hope it stands up to your expectations! enjoy~ (pls ignore some grammatical mistakes; i still need to edit it a bit)

In retrospect, it was probably a bad idea trying to recreate an ancient demon-summoning circle in the middle of your living room. If anyone asked you what had possessed you to do so regardless, you’d point fingers at your history professor for assigning the task in the first place. Although, you might concede that he didn’t technically ask you to assemble the summoning circle; all you were assigned to do was do some research about ancient summoning techniques with five to ten sources maximum. The problem with the assignment lied with the latter part of the requirements: the motherfucking references.

No matter how hard you tried to search for reliable photographs of professionally reenacted summoning circles, none of significant quality had popped up anywhere. You were seriously starting to consider attaching some DeviantArt fanart by the time you had reached page 67 on the Google search page.

In short, you were desperate—and desperation meant that you didn’t really think things through.

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I think Jack loves to be held. Sometimes he gets home and just doesn’t want anything else. He’s had a rough day, with decisions he’s not very fond of and people talking too loud because everyone else is too and it’s late enough that dinner is waiting for him in the fridge instead of on the table. He’s just tired, is all, and people are awful, he’s decided. But Eric is waiting for him in the bedroom and is already wearing the soft t-shirt he’s been sleeping in since freshman year that he refuses to get rid of and Jack just loves him so much that people don’t seem too bad anymore.

“Long day, sweetheart?” Eric will ask, not even looking up from the book he’s reading but still smiling just enough to make Jack feel calm.

“Yeah,” Jack will almost whisper, like it’ll ruin the moment if he doesn’t. “Can you hold me?”

And he’ll walk over to the bed because he already knows the answer and then just cling to Eric’s side while the soft sound of a book being put down goes off somewhere close to him. Then there’s an arm around him and fingers running through his hair and people seem pretty decent.

Friends Part 4

Summary: You and Bucky are friends for a long time, but lately you start to develop romantic feelings for him. One day one of Tony’s parties everything changes but maybe not the way you wanted or expected.

Paring: Bucky x Reader

Words: 2643

Warnings: Fluffy, loads of Bucky being a cute pie some sexual innuendos and some sexual tension.

Thank you @amrita31199 you are amazing.

credits to the gif owner

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

You take a sip of your coffee as you look at the computer in front of you; you are never going to understand why you accepted a job at the Stark Industries, sure they pay you really well but looking at budgets all day was starting to make you crazy.

To be honest, the budget in front of you is the least of your concerns, it’s been five days since Bucky went on a mission and you still haven’t heard from him. Usually, he texts you to let you know that he was alive and well. But so far nothing, according to Natasha they are fine but the mission is a lot more complicated than they anticipated.

You wish they would be home soon, you hated worrying much, you couldn’t sleep when you were worried.

You almost have a heart attack when you hear your phone ringing, you look at the id caller expecting it to be Dan but no it is Wanda. This is odd she never calls you “Hey Wan is everything fine?” Your mind goes to the worst scenario possible, afraid that something might have happened to Bucky.

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anonymous asked:

Alex roughly eating louis that I'm all I'm sayin . Just a thought . I dunno . I haven't seen Dunkirk yet I'm gonna of spoilers

@celebratinglouis u send me the nastiest shit but also thank u. 

this is just…it’s porn. it’s angst and porn and feminization kink and poor coping mechanisms. also it’s written in like three different tenses. listen, I’m sorry. I hope you like it anyways, bc this is a concept I could write…more of. Also a few Dunkirk spoilers! 


The train spewed steam, hot and compressed, behind him, and Alex still found the ability to push forward.

He hurt, and he couldn’t even identify where. His ears were ringing, and he’s only now noticing it. He thought his neck and his head might hurt, but then again, his wrist and his ankle might, too. It’s just everywhere. His eyes stung even though he was just asleep, his mouth tasted like warm beer and warmer water.

He blinked, and brought his hand up to his eyes, his other hand tightening on the strap of his pack. There’s no sunlight in the station, but he still feels like he should lift his hand, get a better view.

He’s standing there on the platform, three dimensions, full color. He’s wearing nearly the exact same thing he wore to the station the first time, the grey trousers and the brown braces and the big, open pale blue jumper that’s gotten paler, bordering on grey.

He’s the most beautiful thing Alex has ever seen. He’s the only beautiful thing he’s seen in a while.

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Dead (Jeff Atkins, 13 reasons)

There had been whispers about it. Jeff wasn’t a drinker to begin with. He was always the designated driver and even when he wasn’t he never had more than two or three beers. That particular night you’d been absolutely bombarded with math and science homework. He’d begged you to come to the party with him. You’d thought about it, but declined in the end. He kissed your cheek and told you he wanted to go to breakfast in the morning and that he’d be there to pick you up at 9:30. You wouldn’t be going to breakfast. In fact the next time you saw your boyfriend it was under very different circumstances. It was six hours later in the middle of the night. He was in a body bag. He was dead. Over what they called a drunk driving accident. Jeff was deemed drunk by most everyone at the scene. Everyone except you and his mother. Of course your opinion on how it happened didn’t matter as much as the fact that he was dead, whether he’d been drunk or not. You’d gone spiraling out of control. So much so that your mother forced you to take the rest of the semester off of school, joining independent studies. It didn’t do any good. You just felt more lonely. Jeff’s presence lacked even more and there was rarely a distraction. You didn’t feel any better about him being gone by the time you had finished your time in independent studies. You felt the same as when you’d first entered independent studies, so you had no problem when it came time for you to come back to school. Still a zombie, of course, and it didn’t help that your friend Hannah Baker had committed suicide during your absence from school. You knew you looked bad. You knew you had dark circles under your eyes. You knew you’d broken out from not eating right or regularly. You knew your hair was in the bun because you hadn’t bothered to shower, turning to perfume and deodorant instead. You opened your locker, shoving your books into it, you were back at it. Everyone was in their usual spots, nothing had really changed since you’d left. Except that Jessica and Justin were no longer together. Zach had gotten dumped by your best friend after the tapes were released. He’d known too much, she said, to keep it all a secret from the people who deserved to know. He’d borderline stalked her for a while. She’d threatened to move across the country with her aunt and uncle if he didn’t leave her alone. So he did. Nothing changed with Bryce. At least not yet. The fact that he was a rapist had gotten out. You’d heard things about Bryce and girls and parties, but not about Jessica and Hannah. You hid your face in your locker as you looked at your phone. You got a text every morning from Jeff’s mother. They varied in what they said. Today’s said “hello beautiful, your mom said I could pick you up after school and we could go to the mall. We also want you to stay for dinner.” You had your license but you hadn’t wanted to drive and your parents hadn’t trusted you to drive since Jeff’s accident. You were scared of cars now. You were also scared of alcohol.
“You’re back.” You hear from behind you. You turn to see Justin Foley. There’s concern in his eyes, like he knows that there’s a great chance you don’t want to be talking to him. And that you won’t forgive him. Forgive him for staying quiet when anything but that would have been a better option. He’d stayed quiet knowing his friend had raped not only Hannah baker, who would of course go on to kill herself, but his own girlfriend.
“Yeah.” You responded, not looking up from your phone as you texted Mrs. Atkins back.
“You look good.” He smiled at you. You locked your phone and slammed your locker closed, startling Justin.
“I’ve learned to accept pity but I’ll never accept being lied to, Foley.” You looked him dead in the eyes before moving to walk away.
“Seriously, Y/N! Given the circumstances you look really good. I don’t know how many people could survive what you’ve gone through.” By the end of his message he’s just white noise and you continued to walk.
“I’m not so sure I did.” You mumbled, leaving the jock in the dust. You knew he’d been having his own struggles. Hell, he’d been having his own problems since the day he’d been born to his waste of space mother. But that boy had let himself become a bystander for rape on account of somehow owing it to his rapist friend. There was no use telling him what you thought, he knew he was in the wrong and he’d heard it a lot. Marcus smiled at you as you continued down the hall. You found yourself walking towards him.
“Hey Y/N how are y-” you cut his formalities off.
“Is Y/FN at school yet?” Marcus was quite obviously caught off guard. His words fumbled together a bit.
“Uh, well, yeah. She tends to not go through the halls a lot anymore. She avoids us a lot.” Marcus explained. He didn’t give much eye contact.
“I knew that much, thanks.” Again, you were stopped before you could walk away.
“Will you guys ever talk to me again?” Zach’s familiar voice took over.
“This is your first attempt to talk to me as far as I’m concerned.” You crossed your arms. He looked as though he was in an extreme amount of pain.
“I’ve called and texted you for months.” Zach looked at the ground.
“One text of the many was you asking about me. The rest was you trying to get to Y/FN because she blocked you on everything. Your motives were not the most selfless, Zach Dempsey. Reassess yourself and your self righteous nature.” You spun on your heels and walked out of the room. You see your best friend talking to a girl named Skye, one of the only people either of you could stand the be around in the school anymore.
“Saw you talking the some henchmen.” Skye said, staring at her fingernails, which were painted black.
“Strictly to see where you were.” Skye smiled a little. Y/FN turned and hugged you.
“I’m glad you’re back, normal is what you need right now.” She said. Once you pulled away from your best friend, you saw someone coming. Clay Jenson. Lanky, kinda dorky Clay Jenson. The Clay Jenson that brought you free candy and free movie ticket vouchers after Jeff died. But this was also, and most certainly not least, the Clay Jenson featured on the tapes. The Clay Jenson that knew girls got raped, that knew a lot about the night Jeff died. Including that it wasn’t Jeff’s fault at all. In fact, he knew he wasn’t drunk and that it was Sheri that was drunk and had caused Jeff’s death. There was a handful of people that knew it wasn’t Jeff’s fault. The people that were featured on the tapes. Clay was featured on the tapes and so was Justin and so was Marcus and so was Zach. They saw you yanked out of school for being mentally unstable and not being able to understand how Jeff did this and why he was drunk at all. There were answers, and no one gave them to you until the tapes were handed to the police. You knew when the public knew. Nothing hurt more than that. And that’s why you hated those boys. And Courtney and Jessica and Alex and Tyler and every other god forsaken person who earned themselves a tape by being an insensitive asshole.
“Hey Y/N.” You looked over at Clay, his hands were stuffed in his pockets as he stared at you nervously. You looked at him, blinked twice, and looked away.
“You look good.” Silence.
“I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry.” You can feel Clay looking at you, but you won’t look at him. There’s a short pause.
“Y/N I know I should have said something to you as soon as I knew but it was a lot more complicated than it se-” you found yourself waving your hands in the air begging him to stop speaking.
“You’re going to listen for a moment.” Clay nodded, finally able to make eye contact with you.
“Jeff and I were going to apply to all the same colleges, did he ever tell you that?” Clay nodded his head. You and Jeff had already planned on marriage. Everyone knew it.
“Did you know we were going to share an apartment right away instead of dorms?” Clay gulped, looking at the other two girls nervously.
“He talked about you constantly, Y/N.” You rolled your eyes at his words.
“People have been talking about me constantly. It’s my turn to speak.” Clay shut his mouth quickly.
“Wanna know something I’m sure you weren’t aware of?” Clay’s eyes filled with more fear by the second.
“Did you know that the day after I saw Jeff dragged away in a body bag is the day I miscarried our baby?” Clay knew he wouldn’t speak but his mouth fell open from the shock and not knowing what else to do.
“So yeah, maybe you can forgive yourself for not always being there for Hannah. And maybe Jessica will forgive Justin someday and maybe, just maybe Y/FN will give Zach another chance. But guess who doesn’t have the tools or the people to move on? Me. My boyfriend is dead and my baby is dead. And my future relies on me being a zombie through life, hopefully getting decent enough grades to shuffle through the rest of my life because there will never be someone who makes me feel and love the way Jeff did. And I’ll never be able to have a baby made up of more love. Everything will be me settling because the best of what life has to offer is quite literally dead.” The bell rings but no one moves, and everyone just looks at you as hot tears stream down your face.
“Y/FN, go tell Zach how much you still love him and how much you’re willing to fight for each other. And Skye, tell Clay how you’ve been in love with him since the sixth grade and how you’d be really pumped to go out with him. Because life’s short and sometimes even shorter than expected. No time is put on this earth to be wasted. Love each other.” You let out a shaky breath before turning and heading to English class. Jeff would be proud. In that moment you knew maybe you would be fine.

                              GAME STARTERS VOL.1       ( ALICE: MADNESS RETURNS )     

  1. ❛ The past must be paid for. ❜
  2. ❛ Only the insane equate pain with success. ❜
  3. ❛ I’d like to forget what you did. I’ve tried, but I can’t. ❜
  4. ❛ Is it mad to pray for better hallucinations? ❜
  5. ❛ I know I’m guilty of something, but punishment hardly ever suits the victim of a crime. ❜
  6. ❛ You’ve used me and abused me, but you will not destroy me! ❜
  7. ❛ It’s not a dream. It’s a – memory. And it makes me sick. ❜
  8. ❛ I am fine. I’m not mad. I am innocent, I mean, —- not guilty! ❜
  9. ❛ I’ve not come back here looking for a fight. ❜
  10. ❛ Save myself? From death? I’m not afraid to die. Times I’ve welcomed death! ❜
  11. ❛ I want to forget! Who would choose to be alone, imprisoned by their broken memories? ❜
  12. ❛ Threats, promises and good intentions don’t amount to action. ❜
  13. ❛ We’re at risk here. You, be on your guard. ❜
  14. ❛ A secret is only a secret when it is unspoken to another. ❜
  15. ❛ How fine you look when dressed in rage. ❜
  16. ❛ The uninformed must improve their deficit, or die. ❜
  17. ❛ Authority must be obeyed, or it must be overthrown. ❜
  18. ❛ You shouldn’t ask questions you know the answers to, it’s not polite. ❜
  19. ❛ Make your survival mean something, or we are all doomed. ❜
  20. ❛ Memory is more often a curse than a blessing. ❜
  21. ❛ The real world is not so wonderful. You’ll need to grow up. ❜
  22. ❛ You look decent enough. But appearances deceive. ❜
  23. ❛ You are no help at all when I know you can be. ❜
  24. ❛ You’re as randomly lethal and entirely confused as you ever were. ❜
  25. ❛ I’ve managed without you so far. Return to whatever hovel’s home to you, I’ll call if I need you. ❜
  26. ❛ What? There’s no hope, then? ❜
  27. ❛ Failure as your epitaph? I’d hoped you were more courageous. ❜
  28. ❛ You are someone I once knew and loved. Time changes us all. ❜
  29. ❛ The malignant royal bitch still reigns. ❜
  30. ❛ I believe I know that way and I’d rather not travel further along it. ❜
  31. ❛ They are dead, and you should be too. ❜
  32. ❛ You misbegotten abomination! Murderer! You bloodsucking parasite! ❜
  33. ❛ You psychotic, hysterical bitch! ❜
  34. ❛ Come to receive your punishment then? ❜
  35. ❛ There is so little hope and if fear paralyses you we’re lost. ❜
prove it. (m)


yoo kihyun | reader
rivals au & high school au / smut, fluff
word count:
when all kihyun can talk about is how good he is in bed, you decide to shut him up by telling him to put his money where he mouth is. fortunately, you both learn a few things along the way.  
author’s note:
i dedicate this to @wonhopes because she made me realize how much kihyun wrecks me. if it wasn’t obvious enough, it’s safe to say i’ve finally accepted it.

Originally posted by wonhontology

If it wasn’t for the mere fact that Mrs. Fern told you who your partner was, you would’ve scoffed, maybe protested, or even blurted out a concise, “Fuck no.”

Out of all the people in the classroom, you’re stuck with him. Yoo Kihyun. The asshole with an ego bigger than Jeon Jungkook’s, and that was probably an understatement too. You can’t imagine the outcome of this, not that anyone can, but when you catch sight of his stare from across the room and a smirk spreads across his lips, you already glower at the possibilities.

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It sucks that the little bit of positivity that exists around poly cystic ovarian syndrome (PCOS) is still primarily dedicated how you can still achieve thinness if you “actually want it enough” and how your body hair, especially facial hair, is super shameful but if you have the money and pain tolerance maybe laser hair removal will help you (but probably not).

Look I’ve been some variation of chubby since I was a teenager. No matter how I eat or how much I exercise it it near impossible to lose a decent amount of weight. I’m a busy, depressed adult woman and I have more important things to worry about then obsessing over my weight. I did ten laser hair removal treatments as a teenager and I stopped because the last treatment burned the fuck out of my chin/jawline/upper neck. It also was completely useless and I’m still annoyed I went through that fucking pain for nothing because since pcos is a hormonal issue, laser hair removal tends not to work.

When I shave my legs, they maybe smooth but being super pale with thick dark hair my legs look like raw chicken skin generously sprinkled with pepper. My legs get stubbly a day after I shave them.

That being said, here’s some actual positivity:

-You don’t have to lose weight to be worth love, respect, or appropriate doctor care. Demand all three.

-Weight loss is hard enough without pcos. You are not lesser because you do not dedicate every spare moment of your time to losing weight, if you choose to spend any time on it at all.

-Your body hair is not disgusting. It is natural and you are not a baby. Humans have hair, some more than others.

-You are entitled to your personal grooming choices. If you want to shave, shave however much you want. Societal expectations are not easy to ignore and trying to meet them doesn’t make you less of anything.

-If you choose not to shave, everyone who gives you shit about it can fuck right off.

-Facial and body hair do not make you less of a woman.

-Neither does thinning hair or acne. This goes double for fertility issues.

-Anybody who tries to tell you that your cramps can’t be THAT bad can go chew on rocks.

-Regardless of how your symptoms present themselves, you are worth love. No matter how bad things seem, you are lovable and you are worth respect.


I see a lot of people who are often get really upset because they can’t scroll through the Steven universe tag anymore without seeing hate. I feel for the people who can’t stand looking at hate or even criticism and there’s so many people who don’t care enough to tag it as such. Asking them to be decent people is not working so lets try to start a new tag for Steven Universe content that is hate free. 

Here’s what you can do: 

  • tag your original content as #Steven Universe hate free (AND ofc you can still tag things as #Steven Universe as well so it will get noticed better. The new tags purpose is just so people can look through a general Steven universe tag but with much less hate. not to replace the old tag) 
  • Reblog and like this post to spread the word, if this post doesn’t spread then this tag will never work 

And yes, there is always going to be a few really bad apples who will put hate in the new tag to bother us… But at least this way people can avoid all of the hate that ends up in the main tag because people don’t care or know to properly tag it with #su criticism / hate.

Please please please signal boost this post to spread the word


…the thrilling conclusion to my really old MP100 comic I never finished…! I still kinda like it…

Even if I really really didn’t know how to draw Teru (he looks waaaaaayyyy different the way I draw him now. And taller. Oops) at the time. Nor do I really know what’s going on here, even now. Inspired by that one scene in ATLA, buuut that’s all I got ^^;;;

“Just let me take the picture Harry!” You whined as Harry made a grumpy face towards you. All you wanted was to snap a quick picture of the beautiful sunset that was in front of you and he was causing a mild scene.

“Love I want ta go home,” he was standing there giving you his best grumpy face. “Been on my feet all day.” His tone was borderline begging and you just rolled your eyes.

“We could’ve been on the road by now if you’d just let me take the picture.” You mumbled as you just snapped one last photo of the sunset before sliding your phone into your back pocket. Harry quickly grabbed your hand and laced your fingers together with his as he helped you down the path towards the car.

“Love are you upset?” You just lightly shrugged as you buckled your seatbelt once you were seated in the passenger seat of the car. He was looking at you with his big emerald green eyes and when you refused to make eye contact he let out a sigh. “What will make ya smile my love?” He reached over and grabbed your hand and gave it a squeeze before bringing it to his lips.

“Come on Harry lets go home. You’ve been on your feet all day.” Your tone was slightly playful but it was more sarcastic than anything. This made Harry pout as you took your hand from his grip and placed it back into your lap. You reached for your phone that was in the cup holder and began scrolling through the multiple photos you had taken throughout the day.

You were at an event with Harry and it had started earlier that morning and went well into the evening. You knew he had every reason to be tired but you were still annoyed that he couldn’t wait a few more minutes so you could get a decent picture. You stopped scrolling as you came to a picture you didn’t even realize Harry had managed to make his was into. He was standing off to the left in front of the very sunset that you were so desperately trying to capture, he wasn’t necessarily smiling but he wasn’t straight faced either.

“Please jus tell me what ta do love,” you hadn’t even realized Harry had put the car in park. You turned to look at him and the look on his face was enough to make your heart sink. His eyes were a darker shade of green and the corners of his mouth were dropped down into a sad frown. “I’m sorry I made ya leave before you could get a decent picture. We can go back tomorrow evening and we can sit there all night until you get the perfect picture if that’s what ya want love.”

“That won’t be necessary Harry,” You told him as you gave him a small smile causing him to let out a sigh of relief. “I got the perfect picture already.” You added as you quickly got out of the car leaving Harry sitting there with a confused look on his face. He was quick to follow you and as he locked the car you unlocked the front door of the house and left it open for him.

“Why do I feel like this perfect picture involves me in some way?” You just laughed as he followed you down the hall and into the master bedroom. You plopped down onto the bed and held out your phone for him to grab. “What’s this?” You just rolled your eyes as you slipped off your shoes before lying back and letting your head hit the comforter.

“Is it not perfect?” You asked and when you saw him give you a playful smirk as he raised his eyebrow you just laughed. “I think it’s even Instagram worthy, don’t you lovey?” Harry just placed your phone on the nightstand and before you knew it he was hovering over you with his arms on both sides of your head.

“Will that make you happy my love?” He asked as he wedged his knee between your knees and you just smiled and nodded. “Than yes I’d say it’s Instagram worthy.” You flinched as you felt his lips just below your ear, and when you felt his lips press a sweet kiss to your cheek you just wrapped your arms around his neck.

“I love you,” you whispered but you knew he heard you when you felt him smile against your neck. You giggled when you all of a sudden were being rolled over so that you were now straddling Harry. “I thought you were tired? Been on your feet all day remember.” You teased as you leaned down and placed a sweet kiss to his lips.

“Not really using my feet now am I love?” He mumbled between kisses and you couldn’t help but roll you eyes playfully as you felt his arms slide up around your waist pulling you closer to him. You soon forgot all about why you were even slightly upset in the first place. Your thoughts were flooded with only one thing and that was how much you loved and wanted Harry in this moment, not some silly picture.


Reviews for That Bombed:

“Absolutely the worst thing I’ve ever read.” – @relenafanel (the author)

“I’m really looking forward to this.” – @swingsetindecember (probably. If we asked her)

“Disappointed to be a part of this.” – @rlnerdgirl (the author)

“Bad enough that it might actually attract un-ironic viewers.” - @rlnerdgirl



Derek Hale: has a nice apartment. Works as a reporter and is semi superman? Has a dog? 

Stiles Stilinski: went to college in a boring state but with a decent school. Did keg stands. Now through FBI training.

RelenaFanel: doesn’t even go here anymore.

RLNerdGirl: back from 2 year hiatus. still hasn’t watched the show since season 1

A satire. Maybe.


Love Yourself - Connor x Evan

Author - K (I’m pretty sure J doesn’t really listen to musicals I’m not entirely sure)

so this is something I wrote when kind of tipsy on mango vodka and schloer. but I quite like it and hope you guys too. also, i was tipsy and now so is Evan.


Connor was sitting on his bed, painfully sober after only three beers, while Evan was giggling at the ceiling on the other end. Connor sighed, looking fondly at the other boy, feeling guilty that he has gotten Evan drunk. Yet, he couldn’t let himself feel too bad because he knew that Evan needed this. He needed a distraction, and Connor was putty in this boy’s hands. He would walk across hot coals just to make Evan smile. So getting a few beers into his home while his parents were away was nothing. He pushed himself up off of his bed, getting a baggy shirt and sweats that Evan had left ones of the many other nights he’d stayed there. He was planning to attempt to get Evan into them so he’s reasonably comfortable when he sleeps, but he’s that drunk that it probably wouldn’t matter if he was still in jeans or not. But, when he tried to get Evan’s top off, he went bright red and tried to bat Connor’s hands away.

He spluttered while trying to stop Connor from undressing him. “I have a boyfriend! You’re not allowed to undress me because Connor will get mad and him being mad kind of makes me want to cry.” He continued to ramble, his words slurring slightly. His heart broke slightly at Evan’s statement because Connor knew he was mad quite a lot. But he shook the thoughts away and replaced them with ‘Evan is such a lightweight. Probably because he has never drunk before.’ 

He let out a deep sigh. “I am your boyfriend, dipshit. I’m trying to get you into pyjamas so you don’t sleep in those shitty blue jeans.” Connor tried to persuade him, but Evan wasn’t having it. He kept waving him off, mumbling about how he wasn’t going to betray Connor. He would have found it adorable if he wasn’t trying to do something. Eventually, Connor gave up and sat next to Evan, laying his head in his hands and yawning, exhaustion suddenly taking over.

After a few minutes of silence, Evan spoke up. “I love Connor.” His chest tightened at Evan’s words. “I love him so much it hurts. Because sometimes I think to myself, ‘if I asked him to list everything he loves, how long would it take him to say himself?’ I’m not even sure if he would and it breaks my heart. I know he isn’t perfect and has done some shitty things, but he is getting better and loads of people don’t see that and treat him like he is some dog that they can provoke until it runs and tries to rip their face off!” Evan had slowly become slightly hysterical, crying about how amazing he feels his boyfriend is. Connor wanted to cry as well. No one had ever spoken so kindly of him. But Connor settled for holding Evan’s hand and saying sweet words to calm him down. 

When he had eventually calmed Evan down, Connor squeezed Evan’s hand. “He loves you, too. He worships you and I know he wouldn’t say he loves himself. But that list? Of things he loves? Would be filled with different things about you. He could go on for days about everything he loves about you. The only reason he doesn’t say anything day to day is because he is damaged and doesn’t show any emotions except anger. But I swear to you, he loves you.” Evan smiled warmly, looking at the floor with teary eyes before picking up the pyjamas, and slowly picking himself off the bed and to the bathroom to change.

By the time he returned, Connor was under the duvet waiting for him.When he climbed into bed, he left a decent chunk of space between him and Connor, obviously still drunk enough to think that Connor wasn’t actually Connor. But as soon as he heard Evan’s breathing even out, signalling he was asleep, he slipped an arm around his waist, pulling him closer. 

Before he went to sleep himself, he kissed Evan’s shoulder and whispered ‘I love you’. 


I might do a part two if you want??

First Time with Taeyong

Originally posted by yoon-to-the-oh

Okay so I’m going to do a bulleted scenario, I hope that’s alright with you I’m just having a creativity block lately and I’m trying to finish a lot at once. Please let me know what you think.

Taeyong  Johnny  Jaehyun  Taeil

  • Okay so starting off, let me just say that ty track™ in my opinion has two varying personalities.
  • He’s this soft marshmallow who’s clingy and needs constant love and affection otherwise he’ll be pouty and whiny like a smol puppy.
  • But he can also be really intense, now this would translate differently in varying situations. Let’s say if he’s mad, he’d be quiet and have his intimidating gaze. But also in situations where the mood is intense or being a bit more somber is needed of him, he’d do it.
  • What I’m trying to say is my man is very passionate.
  • I think the first time with taeyong wouldn’t be something that just happens in the heat of the moment. He’d want to plan it and ask you about it beforehand. I don’t think it’d be the roses on the bed sort of preparation, more of finding a free evening to just relax with each other and leave the option open on the table.
  • He would go from playful to intense at the drop of a hat. One moment you’re cuddling and he’s nuzzling his nose in your neck because it tickles, and the next he’s hovering on top of you and looking at you very meaningfully, asking if you really want this.
  • He would be very delicate, peeling of your clothes with slow moves, holding your gaze the entire time. He’d kiss your skin softly, tell you how much he loves you and how beautiful you are. He’d trace his hands over your face and then your body, sort of trying to ground him in the moment. He was here, with you and he was overwhelmed with affection and love at the thought.
  • The whole act would be insanely intimate. This might seem weird since a lot of us assume sex itself is very intimate, but it can be very detached and mechanical too. With him it would be the opposite, everything he does would make you feel how much he loves and cherishes you, and how much you mean to him.
  • I think Taeyong isn’t someone who can do casual sex. He’d want to reserve it for someone he can trust completely, someone he loves and is comfortable around.
  • The first time would be slow and meaningful, the very definition of making love.
  • He’s a pleaser in my eyes, I think he’s a switch leaning towards bottom. But he would be the kind to put your needs over his without hesitation.
  • Get ready for more orgasms than you can count. He would definitely eat you out first as well, ease you into the whole process slowly. Taking his time to enjoy every moment.
  • He’d whisper in your ears and ask you if you feel good. He’d want to know what you want and where you want him to touch you, not because he’s dirty talking (at least not the first time). But because he wants to please you as much as possible.
  • I think we all know how dedicated and focused Taeyong is and that would definitely show in bed, once he knows you’ve adjusted and you urge him to go faster. He would hold a decent pace, not too fast because I think he’d still be afraid of hurting you and in general would still be learning about how you like it, but it would definitely be enough to get your toes curling and whimpering his name.
  • He’d look at you the entire time, looking at every part of your face and just enjoying the effect you have on him. I don’t think he’d mind if your eyes are closed, but before either (or both) of you come, he’d ask you to look him in the eye. He’d want to share that moment with you.
  • Aftercare will be extensive. He’d ask if he hurt you, cleaning up and maybe sneak in a few questions of what to do different or better the next time. But he would keep that to a minimum because he wouldn’t want to ruin the moment.
  • After he got into bed, cute taeyong would definitely be back. If you tried to get up to put on some clothes he’d stop you.
  • “Now we can just sleep naked everyday.” “No we can’t Taeyong.” cue pouty taeyong
  • He’d want to cuddle and I think he’d be silent for a while, sort of letting it sink in. I think it would be a huge step for him in the relationship and his love for you would only grow.
  • So much cuddling. “Taeyong you’re too warm.” “When you agreed to date me, you knew what you were getting into.”
  • After that he’d ask you about your day and tell you his till until you both just fell asleep in eachothers arms.
Only If You Say So - Part One

Fandom: Gotham

Pairing: Jerome Valeska x Reader

Note: So, I realized that this fic is taking too bloody long and I decided to split it in two. This first part doesn’t have any smut like I know you’re all hanging out for, but it’s gonna set the mood so-to-speak. 

Warnings: Slightly graphic?

You were just sitting around eating takeout when your home phone rang. It was odd since hardly anyone ever called the house. Usually it was reserved for random parental calls that you only ever received more than once or twice a month. With a roll of your eyes, you paused the film you were watching and went to grab it, figuring you were due for some hour long lecture.

“Hello?” You answered.


Perking up at the voice on the other line, your brows shot up in excitement - a reaction that would never accompany a call from your parents.

“Jimmy!” You greeted, “What can I do for - “

“Turn on the TV.”

Your smile fell into an expression of concern. Something was wrong. You’d known Jim Gordon long enough to recognize the tone of worry in his voice without even being in the same room as him.

“What channel?” You asked, rushing back into the living room and picking up the remote.

“Any.” Is all he said.

The film switched off and suddenly the familiar face of the news lady filled your television screen. “As has been reported, Channel Nine’s van was stolen this evening,” she said, “We are now getting video from the thief which we will play in hope it leads to his apprehension.”

Suddenly the screen fuzzed out and static came from the speakers before a raspy voice called out;

“Testing, testing…”

Your eyes narrowed as the camera began to focus. “Jim, what’s going on?”

“Am I live?”

In a state of shock and dread, your body completely froze in front of your television screen, your hand clutched tightly around the remote as you stared into the familiar eyes of the ginger lunatic that you had known to be dead. Your breath caught in your throat and you readjusted your grip on your phone.

“Am I on air?”

“It’s Jerome.”

Can you hear me?”

At Jim’s confirmation, your legs buckled and you stumbled backwards into the couch behind you. The room seemed to spin and you drop the remote as you collapsed. Your breathing becomes more rapid, more shallow as you try to make sense of the situation. “How?”

“Dwight, he succeeded in bringing him back -”

“ - He can’t be back, Jim. I was there. He died. He just can’t - ”

“ - Ah, screw it. Let’s do it.”

You stared blankly at your TV, your body quivering in fright. Had it not been for his red hair and the way he danced around like the showman he was, you might not have been able to recognize him. His voice was scratchy and deeper than you remembered, and his face - oh Lord, his face.

Everyone had heard about the recent uprising of facepainted nutjobs running a muck in the streets of Gotham, and you knew that they seemed to be following in the footsteps of Jerome Valeska. You also knew that a man by the name of Dwight was among them; a crazed experimentalist whom had been involved in the resurrection of Fish Mooney, Theo Galavan and many more of Gotham’s recently deceased criminals. Even you hadn’t missed the broadcasted hijacking of Channel Nine earlier that day. You had been horrified to find that Dwight had cut off Jerome’s face and had worn it as a mask, but it seemed that Jerome was not ready to part with it just yet.

His face had been neatly stapled back on; the skin stretched as to fit over his mouth and eyes without flapping about. It looked like something out of a horror movie, and you weren’t entirely certain you weren’t living one.

“Some of you may know I died.” Jerome gave a disappointed little smile. “Ah oh. And take it from me; death is dull. But coming back, that is something. Leave it to dying to give you a whole new perspective on life and I’d like to share that with you.”

“Are you still there, (Y/N)?”

You watched as Jerome turned away from the camera and approached a man that had been tied up to several explosives and barrels of flammable liquids behind him. From what you could see it was Dwight. “Yeah,” You replied, “Yeah, I’m still here.”

Jerome wiped out a lighter from behind Dwight’s ear and twirled around to the camera, giving a little bow. “Tonight, Gotham, in the darkness there are no rules. So, tonight do what you want - kill who you want - ”

He suddenly started to choke, cutting himself off from his speech to clear his throat.

“ - and when morning comes,” he then set the flame to the fuse, “you too shall be…reborn.”

Then the cackle that had been haunting you since the day you had first met him echoed from the television speakers.

“Where is he, Jim?” You hissed into the phone. “Where?!”

“Power plant across the river from HQ,” said Jim, “We’re getting a helicopter now. Where are you?”

“At home,” you told him, your voice cracking. “Directly across the river from HQ. Jim, you aren’t going to make it. Jerome’s - ”

“Jesus, (Y/N),” Jim growled. “You’ve got to get out of there. He’ll be coming for - ”

Suddenly, like an earthquake, the ground beneath your feet shook and all power went out.

“Jim?” You tried. “Jim!”

Looking down at your phone, you saw that all bars had gone, including wifi. The TV died with a faint click and all lights within the house had turned off. Dropping your phone beside the remote, you bolted up and off the couch, quickly making your way to the front door. You knew there was no point in leaving; the power plant was only a few streets away, meaning Jerome could arrive in a matter of minutes, not long enough for you to escape down the street. Locking the door, you shoved the hallway cabinet in front, hoping to give yourself a little bit more time to find a decent hiding spot.

As you ran through the house, you finally realized the huge design flaw. There were absolutely no good places to hide. The closet and under the bed might have been why too cliche for this situation, but they were your only options. Looking between them, your mind whirled. Maybe there was still time…

You were wrong.

The first knock on your door was light and playful. The next was loud and demanding. Without a second thought you bolted to your closet, pulling the door open and shoving yourself inside to the very back, behind the coats, robes and dresses. Your heart raced in fear as you pressed your back against the wall, the dust tickling your nose as you disturbed your winter clothes that hadn’t been worn in what felt like ages. The throb of your own pulse and your uneven breath were the only sounds you could hear; the low buzz of electricity having been switched off by the explosion of the Power Plant.

You could hear the rattle of the door handle. Your heart jumped in your throat and your eyes squeezed shut in anticipation. Then it stopped.

Then you heard the breaking of one of your windows.

“Honey, I’m home!”

Part Two

Show Me: Part 1 - Rowaelin

Notes at the end

They had been home for almost a year. Almost a year since the war ended, since the slaughter had stopped, since the the whole continent was able to take a breath. Almost a year, but still so much pain lingered. 

Orynth was mostly rebuilt. So many of Terrasen’s inhabitants had flocked there. First for refuge as war loomed, and then to rebuild and celebrate when the war was won. After what Aelin had sacrificed, what she had done to win the war, the Lords of Terrasen had bowed to her. Accepted her for the queen she was. 

Now a calm had settled over the city, a quiet, peaceful, happy calm. A healing calm that was spreading throughout the city, throughout the country. Because all of Terrasen’s citizens were still healing. Especially their Queen. 

Rowan knew that Aelin had come a long way since she was rescued from Maeve’s torture. For so long she had been distant. Withdrawn. Closed off from everyone. Even him. And it had broken his heart, still did.

She smiled and laughed more, now she was present in the moment. But Rowan saw that a hollowness still lingered. And he had not been idle about it. Somehow he had managed to keep a secret from Aelin, amazingly no one had let slip about the plan at any stage of it. Although Aelin had caught wind of some humming excitement but it was apparent she didn’t have the drive to pursue it. It would be this evening when he would reveal everything to her.

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