clean white t shirt

Shakespeare (Part I)

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Harry X Reader (AU)

In which Harry is a poetic frat boy who just so happens to be the TA for your new English class.

Author’s note: This is gonna be a multi-part fic!! I’m really excited for it and would love any and all feedback. I hope you enjoy reading as much as I enjoyed writing. Xo

You aren’t a newbie, but your frazzled appearance might portray you that way.

Autumn air nips at your cheeks as you rush around the corner and continue along the edge of the sidewalk. Your feet carry you around other students who aren’t as pressed for time. They give you amused side-glances  as you hustle into the entrance of the closest brick building.

This was supposed to be your semester, the one where you get to class early and rewrite your notes by hand and get straight As. But one-too-many snoozed alarms later and your first day of classes has become your worst nightmare.

You take the stairs two at a time, and are rushing through the doorway to the second floor when you slam full force into a particularly solid shoulder. You’re knocked off balance and a flurry of papers careen through the air to scatter the floor around you.

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  • Seokjin: *sigh*
  • Jimin: what's wrong?
  • Seokjin: the dishes are dirty but I don't want to clean up.
  • Jimin: I got you.
  • Jimin: Hey Jungkook! I bet you a white t-shirt you couldn't clean the dishes in under 5 minutes!
  • Jungkook: *burst in the room with his shirt tied around his forehead and bangs on his chest* WATCH ME HOE!
What You Are According to Your MBTI Type

INTJ: You are the coldest shard of ice, but also the hottest flash of lightning. You are the sofest velvet in a rose petal, and also the sharpest thorns underneath. You’re the terrifying depth to the ocean, and yet you are also the sun twinkling on the waves. You may be the sultriest summer day, but often you choose to be the quiet coldness of a winter morning. You are the calmest logic and also the roil of blood boiling under your skin. Of all these things, INTJ, you are a Paradox.

ENTJ: You are a screaming crowd, the rush of adrenaline pushing you further. The words I will not give up, a business contract with all signatures in place. You are droplets of blood-red ink, and the glint of sunlight off a reflective glass building. You are the gory beauty of a sunset before a storm, the soft certainty of a plant blooming each year. You are a mountain threatening to crumble, and a young tree that refuses to snap in the wind. You, ENTJ, are the confounding fluidity of Strength.

INTP: You are the rapid clicking of a rubix cube under clever fingers, the glint of dark steel, the soft sigh of rain on concrete. You are the flash of unexpected rage, the sound of a chair scraping against the floor as it is pushed hastily back. You are the flipping pages of a textbook, and the squint of eyebrows while reading scrawled writing. It is no wonder that you love asking questions so much, INTP, for you yourself are a Question.

ENTP: You are the flash of an old camera as a photograph is taken. You are the tinest licks of flame in a fireplace, and also the devastating blaze in a forest at the tops of the trees. You are a bright red canvas, washed over with every shade imaginable. You are the blackness of a pupil, going ever deeper in. You are the grafitti I see on street walls as I walk home at night, and the glimmer of icicles on a cold morning. You are the snapping of scissors being suddenly closed, and the sound of ripping fabric as it is pulled apart. You are the irregular motion of fingers tapping against the wooden table. You are both pleasantly warm and dangerously hot, ENTP, because you are Flame incarnate.

INFJ: I see the quiet strength in a mountain side in you, and yet I also see the dangerous temptation of a cliff face. You are the smooth rustling of a stream past rocks, but somewhere you become the roaring power of a waterfall. You are pure white sand and the burning heat on your feet from the sun; I see the softness of vanilla and also the sharpness of peppercorn in you. You are the warmth of the sun on one’s back, and the burning blaze of a desert’s surface. You are power in reserve and power in extremes, you are a dam holding back an entire lake and also the cracks threatening the stone deep beneath the surface. You are mocked as the ‘unicorn’, INFJ, but you prove yourself as something much deeper as the Moment Before a Wave Breaks.

INFP: You are the silken tinkling of water in a cave, and you are the echo of a terrified voice lost somewhere far beyond. You are gentle like a sheet of new paper, yes, but you are the stinging pain of a thousand inflicted papercuts. You are the burst of a flower blooming fast-motion on a camera, and you are the wilted petals underneath. I see the blur of water colours on the white of a desk, and also a room with no visible end or beginning. You are the sudden smile that appears for no reason, and the ugliest frown appearing like a storm. You are early mornings and quiet whispers, but most of all, you are Changes.

ENFJ: You are a mirage; the image of a shallow pool with a thousand feet of water underneath. You are dirt lining the cracks in one’s hands, and the threatening pull of mud under one’s feet. You are the purest feeling of happiness, and you are a maze with level after level. You are a bright blue shirt flipping on a clothesline in the breeze, and you are the flick of a light illuminating a dark room. You go many places and love to see new things, and that is well, for you are an Adventure.

ENFP: You of all others are a perennial favourite. You are the favourite younger sibling in a family, you are the warmth of protection glowing in one’s chest. You are waking up late on a slow day, and you are the beat of a song that plays during work. You are a child skipping rope on the sidewalk, and the wonder of a scientist testing an Element. You are pens scattered on a table in every shade of the rainbow, and the hopeless scrubbing of an eraser over paper. You are notebooks sitting in a shelf unused and half-finished art projects left for a soon-due essay. You, ENFP, are the Glow of Praise.

ISTJ: You are the crisp of white sheets being put on a bed. You are pancakes on a china plate, and black shoes polished to a shine. You are hair in graceful waves, and the graciousness of a smile. You are the furrowing brow of brewing anger, and the sudden splash of cool water on overheated skin. You are the beep of a heart monitor, and the prick of a needle on your finger. I see the quiet, far reaches of the ocean’s surface in you, and the grey shadow of sharks swimming somewhere below. You are not so easily stereotyped as boring, ISTJ; for you are Deep Water, slow to move and full of changes underneath unseen by those on the shore.

ISFJ: You are the glint of a sword being drawn free, and the warm smell of leather. You are the glossiness of a horse’s back, but also the sudden kick of fear. You are tiny smiles and curling fingers; a garden full of colourful flowers. You are the unexpected sting of poison ivy under one’s feet, and the soothing balm of chapstick over cracked, bleeding lips. You are a train rushing forwards, carrying thousands of pounds of cargo. You are the steady thrum of a heartbeat, a yellow ribbon wrapped around a present. You are still water in a vase, and the sudden frustration of broken glass and spilled liquid on the floor. Well are you called a defendor, ISFJ, because you are a Strong Wall, full of the tiny cracks that come with humanity and yet standing strong for all those who need you.

ESTJ: You are the click of an old typewriter’s keys, the soothing hum of a printer completing its task. You are a smile showing teeth, and the biting nip of the cold outside. You are the comfortable feeling of coming home, and a suitcase lying, half-packed, on the floor. You are the beautiful sound of a violin playing, and you are the sobs it so often draws out. You are an army of baked goods resting on a kitchen counter, and the smile on a child’s face. You are the secret desire for untested things, and you are a kind email directed at someone who needs it most. You are always accomplishing things, ESTJ, for you are an accomplishment yourself. Finally, you are spinning in a desk chair unobserved, for you are the Sense of Satisfaction.  

ESFJ: You are the flick of long hair over shoulders. You are gift bags resting on the floor at a party, and the sparkling bubbles of champagne. You are the terrifying shriek of a hurricane and hands wrapped around a warm mug. You are striped colours on a wall and the ticking beat of a watch on one’s wrist. A lively tune on the piano, the blur of 3D movies without glasses. You are the feeling of wandering across a busy city at night, and shaking hands gripping each other. You are as delightful to some as you are strange to others, ESFJ: you are an Unexpected Surprise.

ISTP: You are bubbles rising in a beaker, a baseball slamming into a glove. You are the curl of lazy smoke, and the sheen of sunglasses in the daytime. You are the age-old familiarity of denim, and the crisp cleanness of a white t-shirt. You are a smooth voice making love to the microphone in your hand, and the faint rasp of a speaking voice afterwards. You are a comb moving through hair over and over again, and the yawn unrestricted by a covering hand in a classroom. You are narrowed eyes moments before a game, and the passionate sting of a sudden kiss to the mouth. You and your eagerness, ISTP, are the easy impatience of a Rumbling Engine, desperate to move.

ISFP: You are paint rubbed smudged on a nose, and freckles washed over cheeks. A whisper louder than any scream could be, steam rising from a cup of hot chocolate. You are the bright green of grass in the summertime, and the wilting curl as it shies away in the Autumn. You are a picture of two lovers hugging, their faces absolutely at peace. You are the tossing of a ship in a storm, and the glint of a seashell on damp sand. You are the trusting curl of a child’s hand in your own, and the flash of pain when one bites their tongue. You are Rafflesia arnoldii and Wolffia growing together in a field, some strange combination that manages to be beautiful. You, ISFP, are the Beat of a Dragonfly’s Wings, beautiful and fragile and quick to escape.

ESTP: You are a thousand screaming voices in a stadium, and also the shaking earth underneath. You are a building standing proud and tall, full of life and energy and bustling movement. You are a fist holding the ribbon attached to a medal, and the rumbling growl of a motorcycle’s engine. You are the sting of cold air in the lungs on an early morning, and sparks crackling off a bonfire. You are a tree in the woods, being hacked to the ground, and you are a weed growing rampant in an abandoned garden. You are a force to be reckoned with, ESTP, and a formidable one at that, for you are Determination.

ESFP: You are the twirl of a new dress in the mirror, and the shredding of fabric under a foot. You are a newly polished mirror and shards of a broken glass on the floor. You are the pettiness of envy and also the beauty of magnitude, the gloss over pictures in a magazine and the sound of feet moving on a dance floor. You are the excited shout of a new discovery, and the shattering loss of a loved one. I see the allure of a late night, and the glow of string lights in you, and the rapid beat of a lunar moth’s wings. It is easy to see why you have such quickness in everything, ESFP, for you are Movement.

Angel (III)

Author: kpopfanfictrash

Pairing: You / Jackson

Rating: PG-13

Word Count: 3,511

Summary:  You’re a medical intern, always a perfectionist and used to being the best at everything you do. Jackson Wang is the male nurse beloved by everyone and constantly on your nerves. When you two are brought together, it could be the best or the worst thing that’s ever happened.

Originally posted by jypnior

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Pairing/Characters: Tony Stark x Reader

Summary: You get the best idea ever, and luckily enough: your boyfriend is filthy rich. 

Warnings: Smug Tony, innuendos. 

Word Count: 397

A/N: Here, have this terrible drabble. This was inspired by the quote listed below. It’s bad i know but hey. FEEDBACK is always appreciated!! Also: DO YOU SEE THE MUSCLE FLEX??!! 

Originally posted by capntony

“What if…

The cure for cancer is trapped inside the mind of someone who can’t afford an education?”


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Try to pin me for illegal deductions? That's a paddlin'

This occurred about 3 years ago.

I shut down my framing company to pursue a job as a site supervisor for the development I had been building in.

Started with the builder after I had built the last house, and managed to get 3 out of 4 of my guys a job with the builder, so they wouldn’t be affected my decision. (the fourth guy was a piece of shit, who I never fired because his work ethic was awesome, but had a terrible attitude, bad habits, and was wildly hated by the rest of the crew. He was only there because he made me money. sorry)

First couple months go well, my three guys have settled into doing more than just framing, though they were not enthused about certain tasks, but who really likes working in a muddy hole, or highly physical labour tasks.

My guys were always dirty. Always wore “shitty clothes to work, as did I. Who wants to destroy I nice pair of jeans, or a new clean white t shirt, by getting them stained, or torn. So, our professional "look” left a little to be desired.

After awhile, the owner thought our mish-mash of a crew needed some cleaning up. Ive always subscribed to the analogy “gotta crack an egg to make an omelette”, so I wasn’t personally concerned about our outward appearances, our work should speak for itself.

I’d saved the builder 9$ per square foot, per house, and I could see he was happy about that, under my direction, the rest of the trades had increased the quality, without any incurred cost, and our houses just “looked” better than competitors, during construction.

I get called into a meeting, half way through the week, and the owner says “ I’m tired of you guys looking like no one owns you, your work attire should reflect the quality of homes we’re building, here’s a bunch of uniforms, enough so everyone has one to wear every day, and an extra in case you work Saturday’s.”

I say “ hey boss man! That’s a great idea! It’ll make my guys feel more included and happier! You’ve even embroidered their names on everything! That’s super cool!”

My guys were ecstatic. New shirts, pants, steel towed boots, and steel towed cold weather rubber boots, jackets, hard hats, hi-VI’s vests, you name it. All name brand, high quality stuff, Supplied by the company. It was Christmas in July.

Until they got their pay cheque.

Each guy including me, was deducted $1357.00 for “uniforms”

My lowest paid guy at $15 and hour, OWED the company money.

Next guy made $3.16.

Highest paid guy? A cool $57.

Me? Well I received a cheque less my “uniform” deduction for a little over $2500. I made more money building for him, than I did managing his site.

I was f*cking furious.

This is where the revenge comes in.

I paid my guys for their deducted wage, and then did some research.

Guess what?

Where I’m from, if you require an employee to wear a certain uniform, you cannot pass that cost off to the employee. It’s to be supplied free-of-charge to the worker.

This was also around the time I had been using my personal accounts at suppliers for odds and ends.

I called for a meeting, printed out the labour standards act, highlighting to pertinent areas, and explained to the boss, not only was it illegal, what they did almost cost my guys their homes, if I hadn’t stepped up, they would have been evicted, child support wouldn’t have been paid, and it could have been a lot worse.

My boss took this all in, and said “it’s not mandatory, that’s why you guys have to foot the bill.”

I said “okay boss man, my guys can’t afford to drop $1357 on work clothes, so I’ll have everything returned, most of it has never been worn, you can return what’s still new, I’ll pay the difference”

We all went back to work, wearing our torn jeans, ripped shirts, and stained jackets.

Problem solved right?


I was fired two days later. Since they were “my guys”, that meant them too.

So rather than tell the guys what happened, I told them to roll up all my tools, and anything I had paid for, take Friday off, and I’ll let everyone know what’s going on over the weekend.

Started back up framing that Monday, for the competing builder.

But that’s not where it ends.

I filed a complaint with labour standards, filed a builders lien on the 15 properties I had been managing for unpaid expenses and waited.

When he refused to acknowledge any claim against him, I escalated to lien his personal home. I had done $25,000.00 worth of work to his home, which was to be paid after the sale, plus an extra 10% for waiting.

That really got his attention, as his house was “sold”, pending the closing of the buyers own property.

The lien made it so he can’t sell, without paying me out first.

I ignored all calls, except from his lawyer, and he essentially shut down business, and blames me for doing so.

Long story short?

I got my money, but to this day refuse his $25,000.00 for payment as it lacks the 10%, plus 3% per month late charge.

He could sell his house, but he refuses to pay me out. Owes me about $56,000.00

F*ck that guy.

anonymous asked:

Blurb/One Shot Idea: Y/N & Harry have been dating/hooking up for months and have become quite close. Close enough that Y/N spends most of her time at Harry's house. Harry realizes that he wants to a have a serious relationship with Y/N and decides to make it official. He buys Y/N something that she really wants and always talks about & he asks her to be his girlfriend.

i didnt plan this but 1.3k. oops? not that good? super fluff. :)

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[NEWS] Ji Soo Makes Surprise Guest Appearance At Best Friend Nam Joo Hyuk’s Fanmeet

Ji Soo and Nam Joo Hyuk have the best bromance ever.

Ji Soo appeared as a surprise guest at Nam Joo Hyuk’s “2017 Nam Joo Hyuk Private Stage Some-Day” event on February 26.

Known for their close friendship, Ji Soo surprised everyone by appearing on stage during a phone conversation with Nam Joo Hyuk. The duo went on to perform “Creep” together for the fans who were gathered at the venue. They were even wearing matching outfits with black jackets, black pants, and white t-shirts for a clean cut black and white look.

The two actors worked on SBS’s “Scarlet Heart: Goryeo” together last year. To support his friend, Ji Soo also made a cameo appearance in Nam Joo Hyuk’s drama, “Weightlifting Fairy Kim Bok Joo.”

Though Ji Soo is currently busy with his new drama, JTBC’s “Strong Woman Do Bong Soon,” he made sure to free his schedule so he could come support his friend as he held his first fanmeet.

credit : Soompi

Fic, Secret Hobby

Getting another Roman prompt taken care of. This one was from @ts-sideblog and they suggested that perhaps Prince had an unusual hobby. I looked at the post they directed me to, and I think Roman working on motorcycles is a great idea. Sorry about it being so short though.

Tag list: @yep-another-fander @prinxiety-logicality-ss @ts-sideblog @cherrybonesrh13 @sanderssideblog @shit-happens-bitchachos @toxicsanders @tssanderssidestrash @livenarrator @analogical-trash @remmythepegasis @anxietyandlogic @burntblackfeathers @softlogic @mira-jadeamethyst @momfriendlogan @invisibleninjah

Warnings: None, I think. There’s some grime. Short ficlet. Didn’t put a word count.

Abstract: Prince’s secret hobby.

There’s a garage in Thomas’ mind. One that grows and shrinks, or even disappears as Roman needs it to. It’s where he isn’t so royal. Not so clean. When he’s there, you might not even recognize him.

He unties his belt and takes off his top layer just before entering. He enters the garage, the white t-shirt he wears under his clothes as clean as can be. It won’t be that way for long.

Everything appears as he needs it. Or rather, as he wants it. The tools come and he grabs them out of midair, letting the grease and grime of the engine get all over his hands.

He wipes off his hands on his shirt, and rakes his oil covered hands through his dark brown hair, making it stick out in every direction. His princely smile almost feels out of place here. Almost.

It is not a regal hobby, but it is one that Thomas has secretly wanted to have. Who hasn’t wanted to be the guy fixing an engine, grease all over his arms and a tired but satisfied look on his face as he gets the engine to finally run? It is messy, and time consuming, but that’s why Roman loves it. It is so different from what he usually is.

He walks out, and the garage calmly winks out of existence. He goes to the showers, standing under the spray and scrubbing every last bit of grease off of his person. It has gotten everywhere. His hair, under his nails, and on his face the most troublesome areas.

He steps out, a fresh faced prince yet again, and the others wonder at how long one person can stand in the shower.

The Model & The Actor Part 2 - Sebastian Stan

Originally posted by sebthewinterstan

Part 1

The last three days were spent in a studio taking advertisement photos for your new collaboration with Vogue. No matter how much you tried to focus on your excitement for the shoot, you couldn’t get those haunting blue eyes out of your mind. It had even gone so far that you were spending your afternoons in bed watching his previous interviews. The regret grew with each video of him smiling and laughing. Was it even possible to fall for someone if you don’t really know them? The answer you would give was yes. You could already picture him lounging around your apartment, cooking you breakfast, and snuggling up on the couch after. Unfortunately, that was only wishful thinking. You had a job to do, and he was halfway around the world. He didn’t deserve to have to wait for you when he barely knew you. You resigned yourself to the fact that he probably already was moving on and knew you also had to.

You moved out of the bed walking into the ensuite bathroom. The 5-star hotel you were situated in, given to you by Vogue kindly, had to be one of the largest hotel rooms you had ever been in. The ensuite bathroom was equipped with a bath, shower, hot tub, and other necessities, only a sofa in the middle would have made it posher. After turning on the shower you stepped in front of the mirror to access your appearance. Your hair was filthy from the shoot yesterday and knotted in many places. Your mascara was smudged around your eyes and a bit of your lipstick had somehow gotten on your cheek. Yesterday’s shoot went on till late and when you got home you were practically already asleep, so a shower and removing your makeup was neglected by your need of sleep.

You took off your t-shirt and panties stepping into the warm shower groaning in delight when it hit your tense muscles. You began unknotting your hair gently rubbing the shampoo in. When you finished washing your hair, you grabbed the face wash rubbing the old makeup off. You already felt so much better when you stepped out the shower clean. You grabbed a pair of jeans, a simple white t-shirt along with a new pair of underwear. Today was your first day off, a day you planned using to go see the city you would be living in for a while. Your goals were to find a cute little café with a good coffee near you, go to London Eye and have a look at Big Ben. The rest could wait until another day. 

The time already read 10:30 so you were in a hurry to get out the door and enjoy the rest of the day. Just as you were putting the finishing touches on your makeup, a series of loud knocks sounded from your door.

“I’m coming.” Who could be here to see you? Surely it wasn’t Emma, your manager, as she said she would be spending the entire day sleeping.

You opened the door looking to stop the loud noise only to freeze in shock. A frazzled man stood outside your door hand still raised to knock.

“Sebastian?” you questioned wondering if you were still slightly asleep.

He lifted his hand running it through his hair instead obviously not expecting you to still be here.

“Uh,” he muttered, “I had this whole speech planned-” he bit his lip nervously cutting himself off.

“How about you tell me what you’re doing here?” You were beyond confused but also curious. The man who had been haunting your thoughts for days were now standing in front of you.

“I couldn’t let you slip away that easily. We may not know each other that well, and this will sound cliché, but I feel like we could have something great-” he took a deep breath- “If you let us…” For the first time since he arrived outside your door, he lifted his head looking into your eyes. Your head was swimming with the sincere and hopeful look in his eyes. The very same look he had the night you rejected him.

How were you supposed to react to this, he had travelled from the US. only to come see yo- “Wait how did you even find me?” you squinted suspiciously disregarding your last thought.

He took his hands up in defence, “I got in contact with Emma, your manager? She told me your room number and everything.”

Ah, that sneaky woman. You complain about your love life once and she’s already meddling. On the other hand, you couldn’t really complain. He had travelled to see you and you weren’t that much of an idiot to let him go again, at least not without giving him a chance.

“Alright,” you turned back into the room grabbing your purse and quickly slipping into some shoes. You locked the door walking down the hall to the elevator. When you noticed he wasn’t following, you turned around waving him towards you, “Come on, we haven’t got all day.”

He scrunched his face up in confusion but still ran up to you. “Where are we going?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know.” you laughed loudly wiggling your eyebrows.

Lewis Redman Imagine- Proposal

Request/Summary: Hi can I have a imagine where you get engaged in front of the sidemen, thanks

A/N: This was really fun to write and I really liked coming up with the idea! I hope you like it :)

Lewis’ POV

“Okay so Freya just texted me saying that they’re on their way back and they will be about 10 minutes,” Josh spoke sending my nerves through the roof. She would be here in 10 minutes, only 10 more minutes of uncertainty.

I had invited all of Y/N’s closest friends and mine over to help me set everything up and surprise Y/N. I wanted to do something special for Y/N; she deserved nothing less. With the help of my friends, I had decorated the entrance to the house the best that I could.

Tobi helped me collect and stick up Polaroid photos of Y/N and I on the walls and tied some to string to hang from the ceiling. Simon and JJ had up the snow machine, Ethan and Harry helped to cut out snowflakes out of white paper, and the girls had distracted Y/N for just the right amount of time of the day.

Stress had taken over me as I began rubbing my hands together thinking about what she would say. “Lewis calm down, everything is perfect,” Josh reassured me as he moved into his position. “I’m just nervous you know? What If she doesn’t like it? What if she says no?” “Lewis everything is perfect,” He reiterated his statement trying to calm my nerves. “Are you ready?” Josh asked me, “I love her, she’s the one,” I answered suddenly feeling confident.

I stepped back looking at the finished presentation. The pictures looked adorable, the snow machine was ready to go and the snowflakes twinkled in the light. It looked amazing; I just hoped that Y/N would think so too.

End of Lewis’ POV

Stepping out of the car with Sarah, Freya and Emily You could not be happier to be home. As much as you loved shopping with the girls all day, your feet hurt and you really just wanted to cuddle up on the couch with your boyfriend and watch TV.

Walking up to the door Freya spoke “Oh you go first,” “What?” you questioned, “I left my phone in the car,” Freya quickly answered. Ignoring her slight weirdness, you began to enter the house. You turned the doorknob slowly entering the dark entranceway. As you quickly flicked on the light, the room turned a beautiful white.

You walked further into the room looking upwards towards the beautiful, soft snow that was raining from the corner of the room. You noticed snowflakes and Polaroids stuck up around everywhere and beamed. You had walked into a magical, snowy entrance way and were content. It was like something out of a movie or a book. Everything felt dreamlike; like time had frozen and you were just enjoying yourself in the falling snow.

Looking around the cascading snow you noticed Lewis. He was dressed in an all-black suit looking as handsome as ever. You could not help but smile knowing that he was the reason for all of this. He had made you feel like a princess in a fairy-tale.  He was always so kind to you and always went the extra step. Smiling shyly his eyes met yours and as the snow fell from his hair down his cheeks, an instant feeling of happiness and content flooded your body. He was everything you could have ever wanted. He was in your magical place with you.

Lewis walked up to you and timidly giggled, “I’m sorry about the mess.” “I love it; it’s so enchanted … Central Park?” You answered noting how the falling snow reminded you of a previous holiday you had been on with Lewis.


For your anniversary, Lewis had decided that you would visit New York as you had never been and always wanted to experience a snowy white Christmas in one of your favourite cities. The trip was amazing, spent doing many tourist activities as well as a trip to New York City’s Central Park. The day was magical, you felt like you were in a fairy tale. It was snowing soft white snow and you were both so deeply in love.

Walking around the paths holding hands and smiling at each other, you were in complete happiness. As you were walking down an almost empty path, Lewis pulled you in close. His breath blowing onto your face showing how close you were, and how cold it was. Staring deep into his inviting brown eyes you smiled, “I love you Y/N,” Lewis spoke barely above a whisper allowing only you to hear. “I love you too Lewis” you replied blushing.

Lewis reached in and grazed his hand across your cheek to wipe away a small snowflake that had landed there. He leaned in and kissed you, your lips moulding together as if they were made for each other. You broke away from the kiss peacefully and stared back into his warm brown eyes, wondering why the unexpected embrace.

“I’m going to marry you one day, you know?” Lewis spoke with a wide smile on his face. And with that sentence sending your heart rate to increase and joyful butterflies to swarm your stomach you continued to walk down the snowy path with Lewis pulling you in close next to him. You were both in your own world.


Lewis stepped in front of you and he nervously locked eyes with you. “Y/N,” he began, “When I first met you, I knew that I loved you. The way you shyly smiled at me from across the room, the way you giggled at my very bad, flirty pick-up lines and the way you told me things you had never told anyone before, I knew that I loved you. When we were sitting across from each other at a table together at Nando’s on our first date I knew that I loved you. You were wearing a clean white t-shirt and your favourite black skinny jeans. You ordered the mild chicken wings as you can’t handle spicy food and I knew that I still loved you, even if that meant we wouldn’t be going to many more dates at Nando’s When we were sitting at home watching bad reality TV in sweatpants and old t-shirts I knew I loved you.”

You let out a giggle at how sweet, and somewhat embarrassing, the memories were as Lewis was sharing them with you and your friends.

“When we went to New York and stood in the very centre of Central Park and we kissed, I knew I loved you.” Lewis paused. He nervously looked at the ground and bent down on one knee. He pulled out a small velvet box from his pocket displaying a shining ring. He opened it towards you and locked eyes again. “Y/N I love you. Will you marry me?”

With tears, beginning to escape your eyes you whispered a yes. An explosion of happiness erupted inside you as you and Lewis both smiled and he stood up to place the ring on your finger. The sounds of cheering coming from all your friends was drowned out by Lewis pulling you in for a soft but loving kiss as you celebrated your engagement. The white snow fell from his hair to his cheeks as you smiled back at him through joyous tears. “I love you,” you spoke. “I love you too Y/N” Lewis replied. 

“Congrats Y/N! This is so exciting!” Freya came over to you. “Thank you Freya and is this why you dragged me away from the house today?” You teasingly questioned. “Well how else do you think these guys could have set everything up?” She joked back. “Congratulations Y/N!” Both Emily and Sarah called over to you. “Thank you so much girls, this is just all so nice and everyone is so kind to me,” you spoke beginning to feel emotional again.

“Yes Lewis, my man,” Josh spoke to Lewis. “You aced it!” Simon spoke. All the boys were complimenting and congratulating Lewis causing his cheeks to redden and a proud smile grace his face. “Thank you guys for all the help, I couldn’t have done it without you so thank you I appreciate it,” Lewis thanked his friends for helping him set everything up and steady his nerves. 

Never Ever - Excerpt/Deleted Scene

Originally posted by marktuqn

“Y/N?” Mark called as he stepped inside her apartment with wide eyes. It wasn’t what he’d expected at all – although, he wasn’t sure what he had been expecting. Maybe a lot of dark clothes thrown all over the place, half-empty beer bottles, possibly a secret lover passed out on a couch.  

This place was…almost empty.

He took a step into the living room and took it all in. It gave off a vibe that no one really lived here. To his left was the kitchen which was spotless, no dishes in the sink, no food out on the counter, and even the trash seemed empty. The living room had only a single love seat in the corner, and the small table by the window had just one chair. There was no television or photo frames or personal decoration of any kind. The most personal thing about the room was the keyboard sitting in the center with several pages of filled staff paper resting against the stand.

It looked like a weigh station, a squatter’s abode. A place no one stayed in for long.

“Mark?” He turned his head at the sound of her soft footsteps coming out of the bathroom and found her looking at him from the other side of the living room. He was about to say something, hello maybe, but his words caught in his throat at the sight of her.

Y/N had apparently just stepped out of the shower because her hair was damp and dark, and the faint, clean smell of soap reached his nose. A loose white t-shirt hid the shape of her body and came to a stop halfway down her thighs, with a pair of shorts just peeking out from underneath. She was barefoot and barefaced and the only familiar thing about her was the bangle on her hand.

She looked…soft, and real. Not just another one of his dreams of an untouchable, unreachable girl, but someone he could hold.

“Hi,” Y/N smiled and tugged at her sleeve shyly, pulling Mark out of his thoughts. He suddenly recognized the shirt she was wearing – it was GOT7 merchandise, which drew a stupidly happy smile out of him too. And then, to his surprise, she crossed the room and slid her arms around him in a hug, tucking herself under his chin. Mark hid his smile in her shoulder as he automatically embraced her. She was so warm, and she fit perfectly against him, he realized smugly. “You’re early,” she said as she pulled back.

Mark cocked his head and checked his watch. “Actually, I’m fifteen minutes late,” he grinned apologetically.  

“Aish, really?” she ran a hand through her wet hair. “I must have lost track of time again, I’m sorry. I had someone over earlier today and I guess I got caught up.”

“It’s really fine, Y/N, don’t even worry.”

She was looking at him now with those eyes that made his fluttering, agitated soul calm, and the warmth on her face could have melted ice. “You’re the best, Mark. Okay, let me just change real quick, and we’ll head out.”

“Sounds good,” he nodded and let out a sigh of content as she walked back to her room. That is, until he saw the back of her shirt. Because right under the GOT7 logo was the name JACKSON.

[Never Ever - Mini Masterlist

Happy Easter, my friends! I’m a little tied up with being Responsible, so I’m not sure if I can post Part 3 of Never Ever as soon as I’d like. So to compensate, I thought I’d share this little clip from later in the story. This scene has been stuck in my head for a while, but I’m not sure if I totally love this direction of narrative or if this clip is even going to be included. Let’s pretend it’s a deleted scene or something for now haha, and the closer we get to the later chapters, the clearer it will be where I’m going with the story. Love you all <3

@the-porcelain-doll-xo this is for you because you gave me the Mark feels :’)

Go To Girl

Warnings: Cussing. 

Request: Could you do a negan and reader where negan has had a long day which made him tired enough to sleep standing up if he had the chance. But instead of his usual one after the other with his wives his picks his go to girl (reader)and asks her to just cuddle him to sleep. In the morning he confesses his love for her but she wants him to get rid of his wives and he has a moment so she says no to him and that night he comes back begging to be his ending in amity 😍 please and thank you 🖤🖤 - anon

A/N: Thank you requesting anon! I hope you enjoy!

“Fucking finally,” Negan huffed as the convoy of trucks came back into the compound after collecting from the other communities. He’d woke up at dawn this morning and it nearly dusk when they got back to the sanctuary.

The trucks were loaded with supplies. Canned foods from Alexandria and fresh vegetables from the Hilltop and Kingdom. Now all Negan wanted to was curl up in bed under that cozy blanket that kept him warm at night.  Knowing his wives they’d have something else to say about it.

Keep reading

Fic post

I wrote a ficlet in honour of today. It’s dedicated to @thisstableground, for encouraging neurodiversity headcanons and humouring my art prompts.

June 18th

“Nice shirt. Is that a polyamory thing?”

“Huh?” Startled out of his train of thought, Alex took a second to glance down at the multi-coloured infinity symbol printed on his tank, then up at the man standing next to him on the subway platform. “Oh, um no.”

Alex squinted at the man who had addressed him, trying to pick up clues. He was pretty sure he didn’t know the guy, and he hadn’t used his name, which also supported the stranger theory. White, sandy-haired, clean-shaven. Black t-shirt subtly displaying arms that he had obviously spent time on. Rainbow-coloured silicon band on his wrist; the ghost of last night’s club stamp on the back of his hand; manicured nails.

The man noticed Alex surveying him and gave an expensive-looking grin. Oh.

Jeez, couldn’t he use Grindr for his hook-ups like everyone else? This shit was tacky, even for the fuckfest of Pride weekend, and it was too goddamn early in the day to deal with being fetishised for his skin tone. Alex tugged on the loose ends of his backpack’s straps, pulling them taut but with not quite enough pressure to actually tighten them. He took a breath.

“It’s not a gay thing either – although I am, in fact, bisexual.” The guy’s flinch was subtle, but Alex caught it. “It’s a neurodiversity thing. Because today’s Autistic Pride Day, and I’m autistic.”

The man’s expression shifted from flirtatious into the kind of fixed smile used to humour crazy people. “Ah. I see. That’s, uh…”

“It’s pretty cool, actually. I mean, having two different Prides to celebrate in one weekend gets kind of exhausting – whoever came up with the scheduling obviously did not think about it intersectionally – but it’s okay because I get to spend today hanging out with other autistic people, and I don’t need to put any effort into not looking weird.”

By now the other man had broken eye contact with Alex as he cast around for a way to excuse himself from the increasingly awkward situation. As if on cue, the train rattled into the station before Alex could explain any further about the benefits of a mutually-supportive autistic peer group, and the man made a break for the door of the next-but-one car.

Alex took his own seat in the train and pulled out his headphones, selecting a familiar playlist on his phone to block out the other passengers’ chatter. He leaned his head back to rest against the window for a moment, eyes closed, enjoying the rocking motion as the train gathered speed.

He smiled to himself. Neurotypicals had such a fucked-up approach to boundaries.