even they are surprised by this mistake

yall about female celebrities: she has to be smart and sexy and YOUNG and fun and SKINNY and independent and of course nice and humble and charitable and of course she has to have at least a 4 octave range and act and write her own songs and be an outstanding performer and she has to hit that choreo hard and of course she needs to be a feminist and be an astute businesswoman but keep in mind that capitalism is destroying the middle and lower class and she MUST be well informed about all forms of social justice and date as few men as possible and never make a single mistake no matter how small or if she publicly acknowledges it or apologizes for it otherwise she is the devil incarnate and of course her album needs to sell at least 500k copies on the first week and her single HAS to go number one on the billboard hot 100 and do better than ANY other female singer EVERY. SINGLE. TIME. otherwise she is just a flop and irrelevant

yall about male celebrities: lol hes just too dumb to understand anything. im surprised he can even put a sentence together. hes daddy af tho!!  😍 😍 😍 😍

Hogwarts Headcannons
  • Give me Dean, muggleborn that he is, imitating Steve Irwin in Care of Magical Creatures class, much to everyone's confusion except for Harry and Hermione who are. On the ground. Unable to breathe. And refusing to explain why.
  • Give me Harry, demisexual that he is, realizing that the reason he can't stop obsessing over Draco is because Draco is the one who saw - and subsequently disliked - 'Harry', and not The Boy Who Lived. Realizing that Draco was the only one to first talk to him for HIM, in that robe shop, and not his parents or fame (because even Ron and Hermione did that at first). And thus, leading to him randomly starting crying in the middle of lunch and claiming he's doomed, much to everyone's fear.
  • Give me Seamus, pyro that he is, super happy one Christmas when Hermione buys him a book on fire caution, flammable materials, and elements such as magnesium. Thus afterward, the mysterious fires that have always happened are far more safe and controlled.
  • Give me Luna, wonderful airhead that she is, being stared at as, calm as anything, she waltzes right into the Slytherin common room and starts talking to the mermaids like its absolutely normal. A first year drops a book he's staring so hard, because HOW DID SHE KNOW THE PASSWORD. Draco just sighs, gets up, goes over to her, and offers her tea.
  • Give me Draco. Who looks on as Neville offers Harry rhubarb pie that he made himself, as Harry stares forlornly at his Treacle Tart, and makes and annoyed sound. "Dammit Longbottom he hates bittersweets." The Slytherins stare and Pansy just mutters "How do you even know these things. Merlin, help him realize."
  • Give me Parvati, who is being constantly mistaken for her sister by Ron, who panics and screams "IM A LESBIAN" when it gets to be too much.
  • Give me Ron, who stares wide-eyes from a distance whenever he sees Padma from that moment on for a full week, until Padma flips out too and hexes him. Parvati awkwardly wonders why Ron starts getting scared whenever she tries to approach from then on, since she knows Ron doesn't have problems due to that sort of thing from how he handles Harry.
  • Give me the thirty or so of the school's Muggle-raised, who made the mistake of showing their folks howlers, and react accordingly whenever one of the families sends one that is just a recording of Rick Astley, or High School Musical, or spoilers for Doctor Who. And the Wizard-raised just... staring... in fear... watching their savior and multiple other students as they run around screaming and crying in an absolute panic for some reason even though it was a different student that got the weird howler.
  • Give me Harry, whose hair surprises people by being dark red like his mother's when in direct sunlight. And usually at the Weasley den they're inside, but one day Harry joins them outside for a picnic, and Molly is so confused about where Harry went to then has do do a mental tally of her children.
  • Give me George, who in the midst of the final battle, hit Lucius with an Anaticula curse, so that every spell he tries makes a duck instead. And the Death Eaters are just so confused. "Lucius... is that a duck?"
  • Give me the Gryffindor common room. The new first years suggest Monopoly for game night. The entire room goes dead silent. One first year tries to ask what they did wrong. "Never mention that game again," is the only response they get. "But why-" "NEVER TALK ABOUT SIXTH YEAR. WE NEVER TALK ABOUT SIXTH YEAR." Their brave upperclassman Neville yells, trembling. Hermione starts crying. Harry goes into a panic attack. Ron whispers, "There are many reasons we don't talk about sixth year. If The Incident had been the only thing that happened, we would only not talk about The Incident. Many things happened that year. Thus, we do not speak of that year, or of that game."
  • Give me McGonagall, who struggles to control the cat population, because while students are told to have their cats fixed you know not all 100 students that brought cats did so. Her curling up around a litter that lost their mother to illness. Training them to stalk the corridors. Albus had his ways of getting information, and hers is the spy network of cats.
  • Give me muggleborns singing everything from Phantom of the Opera to Katy Perry in the corridors. Singing We Will Rock You to a pureblood who disses them for it. The purebloods thinking the weird songs and their tunes are some kind of Rite of Passage and fleeing whenever a muggleborn student starts singing. Altering song lyrics. "I throw my ferret in the air some-times, singin EEEEEEEYO, this is DRAAAAAACO!"
  • Give me muggleborns that are really confused about the whole quill instead of pens things, throwing transfigured pokeballs in Care of Magical Creatures, the band students bringing kazoos and harmonicas and the wizrd-raised students that are just so confused as to how those things even work, because it must be some sort of air magic, right??
  • Give me muggleborns making entire conversations out of pop culture references specifically to confuse some Slytherin who just called one girl a Mudblood. "These are not the droids you were looking for." "I'm right on top of that now Rose, I promise." -jazz hands-
  • Give me muggleborns with Patronus that are things like Pikachu, velociraptors, the quiet Canadian transfer student with a moose patronus the size of a SMALL HOUSE, the one whose is a angeled-out Castiel, the one whose patronus is the democrat donkey and another the republican elephant and the two, previously best friends, become mortal enemies rivaling the fame of Harry and Draco.
  • Give me muggleborns hugging each other before break, promising to 'call' each other, trading weird codes, how they can't wait to go for 'sushi' or planning that trip together to 'disneyland' where they can go flying?? But no one's allowed magic?? Or flying?? And the wizard-raised think that somehow, shockingly,<i> these children totally new to our world have developed a way to cheat the system?? Muggleborns are badasses!!</i>
  • Give me muggleborns who are fully aware that the anti-tech wards were made when, like, radios barely even existed, much less cellphone towers and microprocessors, so while they can't turn them on inside the stone school walls there's this group that Harry joins constantly that just sit there in silence staring at these tiny things and sometimes randomly laughing hysterically, and every now and then standing and just running all the way across to the other side of the lake all at the same time with no signal whatsoever. The purebloods are <i>terrified</i> of this frequent happening.
  • Give me Harry, Hermione, Dean, and Justin from the D.A, muggleborns they are, doing a movie night every week to help the D.A. relax and bond. They re-start this after the battles, during eighth year, with several other people such as the returned Slytherins joining in. The entire year they play things like Tangled, The Breakfast Club, Brave, Lion King. But then the last four weeks, they announce they don't want to mislead everyone that everything is all fun and rainbows. The last four movies are My Sister's Keeper, The Shining, Marley and Me, and for the last week, a marathon of the entire Jurassic Park series.
  • Give me Hufflepuffs, who secretly are very relieved to be the 'normal' House. Jocks over there, know-it-alls over there, goth wannabees over there, now lets go camp out by the kitchens we're gonna need it to survive the next seven years like this.
  • Give me Ravenclaws who are so done with the riddles when they stumble back at midnight after having fallen asleep in the Library. "What's the truth?" "THE TRUTH IS THAT I WILL SET YOU ON FIRE IF YOU DON'T LET ME IN."
  • Give me the Trio, who use the Marauder's Map to find the most absolutely ridiculous routes to class, knowing every single one of the shortcuts. It's not odd for them to simply appear out of the ceiling. One day the new first years try to follow them, to learn the school better, but it doesn't go so well because then they try to go through a disappearing wall the Trio just did they instead run headfirst into it, and the next time they do behind a tapestry, down a waterside, around some sort of tower, causally past an entire doorless room full of bats, and somehow come out on the complete other side of the castle.
  • Give me Draco whose just completely had it with Harry's staring and confronts him, like they always do, and Harry just blurts out that he likes Draco's new haircut and can he touch his hair, and Draco so shocked he lets him. "Potter stop treating me like a cat I'm evil remember? Bloody hell have you gone daft?!" "But... it's soft..." "I hate you." But he just can't find any anger over this, so there's like no venom whatsoever in it and Harry can't stop giggling.
  • Give me Ginny, who can't stop giggling as Luna confuses the fuck out of an entire crowd with her way of speaking, and who during seventh year could 100% get away with insulting the Death Eaters because of the way she said things. Who after Luna used said tactic to get her out of a Crucio punishment just clung to Luna, shaking, and realizing that she loves Luna so much for this very reason. That there will never be another person like Luna in her life, ever.
  • Give me Harry, who was not really well educated while living at the Dursleys, who couldn't read very well but was wonderful at sneaking around, little tricks like hiding things, and loved music. He taught himself magic tricks, and MERLIN ALMIGHTY THIS 11 YEAR OLD KID HAS MASTERED VANISHING SPELLS, WHAT, HOW, and Percy, uptight prefect he is, just looses it.
  • Give me Ron walking in on Harry talking to some random snake in their dorm room, laughing like the snake said a particularly good joke, tipping his head and smiling as he responds, the python slowly curling up his arm to rest over his shoulder. Ron freezes, stares, and then slowly backs away, closes the door and stands there staring at it for a full half hour in absolute horror.
  • Give me the rest of the D.A. walking into the Room of Requirement and hearing screaming, Dean shrieking that he's going to murder someone, Hermione crying, Justin cursing like a sailor yelling for everyone to stop, and the rest panic and run around the corner and there the four Muggle-raised students are. With some sort of odd device in their hands. Playing Mario Kart.
Kissing, Interrupted.

Originally posted by perfectfeelings

Peter Parker x Reader

Request: Yes

Summary: Peter and the reader are getting pretty steamy and someone decides it’s the perfect time to interrupt. Talk about cockblock, amiright?

Warnings: language, kissing, fluff, Star Wars, makeout sesh (holla). (Let me know if I missed any).

Word Count: 1,479

A/N: For the amazing @literallyrozie812, thanks for the request! I hope this fic gives you guys all the Peter feels. Also, I apologize if it sucks ass lol. I’m not experienced in this part of writing, so bear with me as I slowly dig my way into it! Let’s hope I did at least a 4/10. Thanks for all the never ending support, guys! As always, feedback and constructive criticism is appreciated.


Being raised as a Stark definitely has its perks, but let’s not forget about the downsides.

For instance, not being able to try out the Iron Man suit because of one accidental mistake of you blowing one up. 

Hey, it happens… right?

Or not being able to join the team on missions because it’s “too intense” or “not safe.”

Like, hello? I’m an Avenger? I deserve to participate, Dad.

And don’t even get started on boys.

Oh, lord. If he knew about Peter and you, well, let’s just say Tony’s suit isn’t the only thing that would be blown up.

Keep reading

Sick of Losing You

Plot: Harry and Y/N lost each other when he found someone else.

Warnings: None aside that it kinda broke my heart.

Playlist to the one shot: https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PL2S-tehb1XqDqkmE4xnz7-SciJy61soVf

Thanks to @interfectorems for being such a good friend, supporter and for requesting this. 
Songs that are mentioned but not on the playlist are “Out of the Woods” by Taylor Swift & “If You don’t Know” by 5Sos.

Pic of this beauty isn’t mine.

I watched from a far how he held on to her hand, his fingers grasping and squeezing hers gently while his eyes never left her pretty face. He watched her speak with such an intensity in his green eyes, as if he literally saw nothing other than her. His girlfriend. Not me.
I took a deep breath, swallowed the thick lump building in my throat and turned away from the sight.
Exactly three weeks ago, Harry and I had shared a kiss. Our first kiss, which had been exactly how I’d secretly always wished for it to be. Of course it had been. Every time you get to kiss the person you love is special and like fireworks painting colors into the sky.

He’d been talking and listening to me all night, similar to how he now was with her and had at some point reached out to hold my hand, just like he was holding hers in this moment.
When the time felt right, he’d leant in and had captured my lips with his. Needless to say, Harry was a phenomenal kisser. He knew when to press further, when to use how much tongue and was very attentive to how my body responded to his. Whenever I thought about it now, my cheeks tingled with the memory of his hands cupping them gently as he cradled my face to keep me close. He’d been so soft, so perfect. Harry had touched me with a tenderness, I thought it’d break my heart. I remembered wrapping my arms around his neck and feeling like they belonged there, like I was meant to hold him close.
Only that I wasn’t. The girl he was with now only proved how insignificant I was.

I couldn’t help peaking and looking over at him again. Harry’s lips. I knew exactly how they felt when pressed against my own, knew their taste and shape. Their warmth. Harry’s touch was impossible to forget.
I watched him kiss his girlfriend with a mesmerized stare, before moving away and into the kitchen, leaving the small gathering of our friends with a murmured excuse that I needed to get a refill of my drink, when in reality I couldn’t bear seeing the man I loved sharing affectionate kisses with someone else.
But not even the kitchen was a safe area for me. t had been this exact kitchen, the one in Harry’s house, where he’d pulled me aside and told me about her for the first time.

“It’s difficult” I think he said. “It’s my fault that this situation has become so messy.”

Was it silly that I could actually still remember every word he spoke to me? That I’d engraved every pause, every take in of breath he made, deeply into my head?

“Listen, Y/N… You’re important to me. I care about you. Need you, it’s just… There is someone. Someone who could be a chance for a relationship and I really want to give this a go. Give her a go, I mean. You can understand that, right?”

At first it’d felt like none of it was real. Because how could he be serious?
Harry. My best friend, Harry.
Only three days after our magical first kiss, three days full of us talking and flirting and texting constantly, he was telling me that he wanted someone else. Her name was Ira. And though he was seemingly behaving the same way with her he had been with me, we weren’t the same. In fact, she was everything I wasn’t. So when he told me he wanted her and not me, that he was picking her over of me, how come I’d been surprised?

I would never be his first choice, not when there were thousands of others he could choose from. And it was time for my brain to learn to not interpret every kind gesture, time to learn to stop overthinking every word. It was time for my head to accept, that there was no way Harry Styles could possibly want me.

So… I had been understanding. Kind even.
I’d lied and told him that yes, I agreed that our kiss had been a mistake. We shouldn’t have done any of that and instead thought of our friendship first, rather than our impulses. I’d kept a smile on my face throughout the entire talk and even finished the short chat by wishing him good luck with her. Another lie.

My fingers shook and so I set the empty glass of my drink down quickly, worried for a moment that I might otherwise spill the last few drops. I didn’t think much when I reached for the bottle of vodka on the counter. There was no getting through this night if I didn’t have something proper to drink. If only I remembered the recipe….

“Need help?”

My shoulders tensed. It couldn’t be him. Please… anyone, literally anyone, but him.

However when I turned around, Harry was there. He stood tall and beautiful, his short hair soft and wavy. Harry’s compelling eyes held my gaze with such a tender rawness in them, my knees weakened. All my body burned for was to wrap my arms around his shoulders and have him embrace me, have him tell me that everything would be okay again. I felt like I needed it, but knew that this was a wish I would be denied. Harry must have felt it, too. It was in the air around us. It had changed and… buzzed. As if being in each other’s presence made the world halt still for a moment.

“I’m sorry,” Harry chuckled lowly when I didn’t say anything. How could he smile like everything was alright?

And what was it he was apologizing for? Abandoning our friendship? Ruining any hope I’d had to find a partner in him? Shattering my heart? Hardly.

“For scaring you,” Harry elaborated, a sudden hint of guilt in his eyes, almost as if he’d read my thoughts.

“It’s fine, Harry,” I muttered, bearing a false smile, “All good.”

It was hard to look at him. Especially his eyes. They burned a whole into my chest whenever my own orbs found them. They reminded me of the Harry he once was, the one I could always come to and rely on.

“What are you doing?” Harry asked, his head nodding towards the bottle of vodka. His forehead furrowed in a worried expression and I quickly set the container back down.

“I wanted to make myself a drink, but the recipe slipped my mind. I’m not as much of an alcoholic as it must look like.”

“Good to know,” Harry chuckled, then, visibly thinking about it first, took a step forward. “I remember what you like in your favorite drink. Could make you one.”

From how close he was standing, it was easy to notice every detail of his skin. Every curve of his lips, every hair of his barely-there beard. My stomach turned.

“That’d be nice.”

Harry smiled and nodded. “Okay.”

We avoided any touching. I was leant against the counter, he stood with a safe distance between us and only came closer when he needed a different ingredient that happened to be near me. It was awkward and… weird. It didn’t feel like ‘us’. The friends we’d been once seemed to be two completely different people. I knew him and felt he was familiar, but there was a emotional distance between us I knew neither of us could overcome. And still, I was with him and even if we behaved like strangers, being with Harry was nice.

“I think that’s it,” Harry said, breaking the silence. His eyes were set on the pink-orange liquid in my glass, then they drifted to my face. A proud smile pulled at the corners of his mouth.

“You 'think’?” I challenged shyly.

I took the glass from him (cautious not to touch his fingers) and took a sip. It tasted great.

“M'not big of a show off,” Harry grinned, “S'it good?”

I nodded and stirred the colored liquid once more. “Thanks, Harry.”

“You’re welcome, Y/N.” His voice was soft and his gaze shy.

The air around us shifted once more. My eyes teared up. What had happened to us? Harry and I… we used to be the kind of friends who didn’t stopped talking to each other for hours. At first, we’d be loud. We’d laugh and giggle so much eventually both of our tummies hurt. That was when we’d change the subject and speak more quietly, until several hours later our conversations drifted to topics only we were allowed to hear. Then we’d be whispering and sitting closer together, always an eager sparkle in the other’s eyes as we both listened with interest about what was being said.

I quickly turned away and pretended to yawn. My eyes blinked rapidly and I willed them not to cry in front of him. Not because of embarrassment, but because I couldn’t do that to him. I’d given him my okay. I had no right to be mad at him for having found someone else. Harry remained standing close and with his hands in the front pockets of his black jeans.

“I think I should go,” I muttered.

I held my head low and took a deep breath before looking at him briefly. Harry’s eyes held concern and his fingers twitched, as if he longed to reach out for me.

“Y/N, love,” he began lowly, “Do you think we could talk for a bit? S'been a while since I got to see you. Hear your voice. I missed you.”

This time when my eyes met his green orbs, I didn’t look away, even though I could feel the tears forming and coming closer to spilling over. Harry’s whole expression changed. His cheeks paled and his forehead furrowed deeper.

“I miss you, too, Harry,” I admitted, my weak voice barely above a whisper.

“No,” he mumbled, shaking his head slowly, sorrow deeply set in his eyes. His feet stepped closer and his warm hands touched my flushed cheeks before I even had the chance to back away from him. The unexpected closeness caught me off guard and had more tears coming, this time because of how much I hated how uncommon this sort of care from him had become.

Harry embraced me. His head buried itself into my neck and both arms wrapped themselves around my waist so he could lift me up from my feet. “Please no, Y/N, Sweetheart. Don’t cry.”

I couldn’t help it. My heart, the final bit that had been whole still, broke in his caring hands and I was overcome and pulled under a wave of grief. That was what I was doing. I was grieving our friendship and the lost hope I’d had for a relationship with him. And he allowed it. He let me cry against his collarbones without any complaint and instead began to hum quietly, knowing how much his voice always soothed me. Pain shot through my chest. He probably did the same when she was upset.

“I can’t-” I cried, but got cut off by my lungs that burned with need for air.

Harry hushed me, his hold tightening, “Don’t, Y/N. It’s going to be alright.”

I shook my head and loosened the hold I’d taken around his neck. My hands momentarily brushed his soft hair, then I pulled away. Harry hesitated but allowed me to step out of his hold.

“I can’t take it anymore, Harry,” I confessed, my voice breaking halfway through the sentence. I reached up to brush my cheeks with the end of my sleeve and hiccuped. My head felt numb and I knew if I didn’t get out of this kitchen soon, he’d witness a break down I wasn’t comfortable with him seeing.

Harry’s hand reached for my arm. I didn’t fight it when he pulled me closer to him, but avoided his eyes when he leaned down to find my gaze.

“Y/N,” he spoke, his voice rough with emotion, “I promise you, it’ll be alright. M'not leaving, okay? M'not. We’ll figure this out.”

I wanted to scream but all I could was shake my head rapidly. “Figure this out how? What have we become, Harry?”

Another sob wrecked through my chest.

“I don’t know,” he confessed, “But we’re going to find each other again, okay? I promise. Let me say goodbye to the others and then we’ll go for a walk or something. We’ll talk. About everything and nothing at all… Just like we always used to, yeah?”

Used to. So long ago, it seemed.

“Okay,” I whispered, my burning eyes set on my feet. My skin shivered under his warmth and my lips hurt from how much I was bitting them.

I flinched when his mouth pressed a kiss to my head. The skin was left with a burning sensation. “Wait for me here, love.”

Harry’s quick feet carried him out of the kitchen and left me standing by the counter with my heart at the pit of my stomach. I stood up straight and brushed the few remaining tears from my cheeks. My skin tingled and I felt the hint of a smile on my lips, even though my body ached.
Looking back now, I wish I would have stayed put by the counter and had waited for him just like he’d asked me to. I wish I hadn’t been impatient and eager to reunite with Harry, because that eagerness drove me to exit the kitchen shortly after him and turn the corner, allowing me clear view into the living room.
There he stood. His arms around her thin form, his hands in her long hair and his lips kissing hers. All air was knocked right out of me. I could see how his hands gently moved against her neck, bringing her in closer and their bodies flush together. When their lips parted for a moment, I could see how he let his tongue run along his lower lip, as if he wanted to make sure he got all of her taste. And I could see him smile warmly at her, right before he leaned back in to connect their mouths once more. This sight… it burned.
I didn’t wait for him. Because I had been wrong before. My heart wasn’t truly broken until that moment, witnessing the man I loved with my everything, kissing a woman who wasn’t me. And if he wasn’t going to leave me, if he was just going to keep me close and allow my heart to shatter over and over again, then I supposed I would have to be the one to go first.
So that’s what I did. I walked back to the entryway, slid on my jacket, picked up my bag, and left the house. Left, to never come back to Harry Styles.

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cinderdrilla  asked:

hit me up w/ some voltron goodness 8)

Lance puts his foot down, and Shiro/Slav have a long overdue talk.

Shiro never figured Lance for the snapping type. They all had their moments, under the constant stress of intergalactic rebellion, but Lance kept a reasonably calm lid on it – his self-titled “rivalry” with Keith aside. Looking at him now, there is only surprise at the way he’s holding himself, the set of his expression: Lance looks both nervous and pissed off.

‘Keith – could you give us a minute?’ he says, in a deliberately calm voice. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Keith hesitate, as if reading the tenseness of the situation and worrying that it might get out of hand. ‘Now, Keith. Go check on Slav’s sector.’

Reluctantly, and with a suspicious look at them both, Keith exits. Lance looks even more nervous when he does. More so when silence settles on them, and he raises a brow at Lance. Well? says the look, say what you have to.

‘I just… you’re way too hard on him,’ Lance repeats, a far cry from the irritated way he’d snapped Can’t you just cut Slav some slack? ‘He’s trying to help, Shiro. I-it’s not… he doesn’t mean to annoy you. It’s just how he… is.’

‘Excuse me?’ His previous calm turns to surprise. He keeps his voice low, not meaning to menace – but Lance scowls a little deeper, mistaking it for nonchalance.
Don’t, Shiro. You sound just like Iverson when you do that, a-and he was an ass,’ Lance says, voice rising only in pitch. Angry and nervous, like a cornered cat. Shiro takes a small step back to give him breathing room, but Lance stays tense. ‘Slav only wants to help. You treating him like a nuisance isn’t – it’s not fair, okay. He can’t help being jumpy; he was a prisoner for ages –’

It takes a second or two for that to sink in. When Shiro goes quiet, when his stare goes vacant as he processes this, Lance steps forward, speech picking up momentum as he grew more defensive.

‘– and it’s not easy to adapt out here,’ there’s a note of hurt in his voice, and it hits Shiro more than the chastising. ‘Slav got taken from his people and thrown into a war just like we did. He’s handling it different. YOU handled it different, we all did. I thought you’d understand him because of it, since you both got tortured by the Galra.’

That’s almost an accusation, and now Shiro fully understands what has Lance so fired up, so recalcitrant. And that understanding brings with it a sense of guilt, especially with the way Lance had said I THOUGHT you’d understand.

Keep reading

She never imagined that she’d be dating Chat Noir. An accidental meeting led to an occasional visit, which led to planned get-togethers. Their tryst remained far from the public eye, despite one half of the pair being a famous superhero (well the other was too, but that was a different issue altogether.)

Keep reading

Tantalizing: 07

Originally posted by jikookfantasy

Tantalizing: 01 02 03 04 05 06 07 08
Ship: Jungkook | Reader
Description: Back in high school, you were nothing more than a nerd Jungkook wanted to deflower, to get a good fuck from. When he sees you at the club, though, things have changed drastically, and his dominance starts to teeter on the edge.
Warning: Dom!Jungkook, Intercourse, Oral, Blowjob, Hair Pulling, Tons of Fucking Angst, Masturbating, Exhibitionism, Overstimulation, Slight Degrading Names?
Word Count: 6,631

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You’re His Ex Girlfriend and You See His New Girlfriend Wearing Your T-Shirt: Part 4

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Masterlist linked in bio


Harry watches the wall clock as he waits patiently on his couch, counting the minutes until Y/n finally wakes up.

He’s barely slept all night, feeling a mix of anxiousness and misery as he thought of all the outcomes that could happen today. He also found himself looking at Y/n all night, watching her in her calmest state of mind and feeling a sense of tranquility as he sees her in her most beautiful form.

He could never get tired of it—admiring her in her sleep. But as the morning passed and the late afternoon started approaching, Harry didn’t know what the hell was going on.

She was still asleep, crashed on top of him as snores raided her mouth and the only movement being the slight rise and fall of her chest against his. He started to worry, solely for the fact that she slept at a completely reasonable time last night and was known to be an early riser. And since he barely got a blink of sleep, he knows she didn’t wake up for a second during the night.

At first, when it hit 12 hours since she’d fallen asleep, he tried to brush hair out of her face in an attempt to wake her from her slumber. Nothing came to his avail, however, when all he got was a slight shake of her head and a small smacking of her lips.

When the afternoon started to approach, he started to move his fingertips along her back and neck. But again, nothing; just a slight groan and a movement of her hips to get away from the sensation.

He gave up after that, helpless in disturbing her sleep and trying to get some sort of reassurance in the midst of his worrying. He really needed something, because his nerves were getting the best of him and he needed to rid the anxiety building inside of him.

That’s when he decided to call Gabby.

“She fell asleep at around 10:00 last night and it’s nearly 2:00 now. She’s barely moved, she’s still right on top of me and doesn’t even flinch when I turn. I’m really worried.”

Harry lifts his hand to her hair, softly brushing the knots out with his fingers, waiting to see if there’s any sudden movement. But there’s nothing, just the movements of her soft breath and the occasional repositioning of her neck.

“She’s barely slept in months, Harry. She’s not fully comfortable here, no matter how much she tries to tell me she is. There are nights she doesn’t sleep at all. She’s completely incapable of being alone anymore, she’s always thinking and it doesn’t let her calm down in the slightest, you know? And mixed with everything that happened last night, she’s probably extremely exhausted. Just let her get her sleep, yeah? She really needs it, trust me. Besides, you being there is helping her in the most.”

He looks down at Y/n, where her cheek is pressed against his chest as her eyes are closed in a dream. She looks most beautiful this way. It’s the peaceful, angelic side of her that he always remember her being.

She looks safe, too—away from any potential hurting and pressed so close against him as if he were the protector of her heart. He almost laughs at the irony of it all, how she’s the exact opposite of peaceful and nowhere near protected from any harm—especially in his arms.

And there’s a part of him that wishes he could stay in this moment forever, holding her to him as he watches her in her must vulnerable state. She doesn’t push him away, or tell him to stop staring at her, or cry because he still can’t figure out what to say. She’s oblivious to his admiration, and the second she regains consciousness in her reality, he knows this moment can’t last much longer, no matter how badly he wants it to.

“Yeah, of course I’ll let her sleep. You think I can move from underneath her without waking her? Might make her some food, can feel her stomach growl.”

“Yes, please make her something. She gets really upset sometimes and forgets to eat. They’ll be days I have to remind her. She really needs you to provide for her right now, more than anything. She shouldn’t wake up, though.”

It doesn’t take much convincing to get Harry up from the couch. Although it was a bit of a struggle to maneuver himself from underneath Y/n’s body and out of her tight hold on him—especially between her occasional whimpers and groans from the sudden movements—he managed to do so without waking her up too much.

He decides to make her her favorite breakfast, as well. He knows it won’t distract her from the problems they have to face, but it’s something—it’s something as opposed to all the nothingness he’s been giving her.

It doesn’t take much longer than half an hour before Y/n finally wakes up from her slumber. She’s confused upon her awakening, groggy and the remaining amount of exhaustion still present in her body.

She’s comforted, though, when she acknowledges that she’s back home with the aroma of breakfast filling the air. It reminds her of old times—mornings of her anniversaries with Harry and mornings of their birthdays or purposeful events. It’s everything that she’s missed and it brings a soft smile to her face. Only for a second, though.

“Afternoon.” He smiles softly, eyes watching her every movement as she leans against the doorway of the kitchen.

In any other circumstance, he would have greeted her with a proper kiss and held her against him for a while; but as he observes her red eyes, her tear-stained cheeks, and her overall broken down structure, he knows not to overstep his boundaries.

Y/n frowns, watching what would normally be the most heartwarming sight of her life—Harry cooking in the kitchen of their home, a smile on his face while the sun peeks through the windows—but is now only seeing it as something that could have been.

She wonders if this is how he spent his mornings with Jessica.

He frowns slightly, too, when he sees her in the way she is now. There’s absolutely no life to her. He can tell that the Y/n that he knew is long gone—now replaced by a much more miserable soul. It almost brings tears to his eyes, seeing how much damage and destruction he’s caused onto her. He feels as if he’s taken away Y/n’s heart entirely, only leaving her to suffer through the loss.

“I, uh—" he mutters softly, realizing that he’s been staring at her for longer than he’s probably supposed to, “I made you some chocolate chip pancakes. I know it’s a little after lunch time but Gabby told me you haven’t been eating as much and well, I kind of figured I’d make you something I know you can’t resist.”

She wants to appreciate the gesture, she does. She wishes that she could look past the gloomy side of the situation, and instead focus on the fact they’re together again. Even if it’s the bare minimum—where Harry does all the speaking while she just listens with a stupid pout on her face—there’s a reflection of what their relationship was like before their time apart, and she feels as if it should be making her feel something other than sick to her stomach.

But she just can’t, no matter how hard she tries. She can’t quite understand how he’s doing so well. Not a part of him resembles her ruined self. He’s so put together, even after everything that’s happened. He’s still alive, which is almost the exact opposite of how she feels; and she can’t help but to wonder if he ever felt the way she did—broken and helpless. She wonders if he even cared.

And if there’s anything that can make her feel worse than she already does, it’s if Harry continues to pity her—to treat her like a charity case when he was the reason for all of this. He should be the one sulking from his mistakes, on his knees begging for mercy, but it’s her. She’s suffering the pain for the both of them and she doesn’t know how much longer she can bare it.

“Is this how it’s going to be?” She whispers, tears flowing from her eyes and she’s genuinely surprised that there’s still some left to cry.

Harry’s heart stops as he watches her break again. He doesn’t want to witness her in that form again, he doesn’t even know if he can; and imagining the pain that must be bursting through her veins is only making this harder for him.

“You’re just going to pretend like everything is okay? While I stand here, practically begging you to say something to me about all this, you just continue to show off how perfectly fine you are?”

“What?” He asks, nearly dumbfounded by her accusations. “No, baby. That’s not—no.“

He doesn’t know exactly where all this came from, considering there isn’t any part of him that’s feeling any sort of sanity. He’s been suffering, too, no matter how much he tries to hide it for her sake. The masking his hurt has been hiding under has been wearing thin over the past couple of weeks, but he couldn’t bring himself to show her how much this affected him.

He was always the one to stay strong for the both of them. No matter what came their way, he was always the one to bottle up all of his emotions and get them through whatever it was bringing them down. He couldn’t break, especially not in front of her. He has to be the one to mend them back together; he doesn’t have a choice, considering he was the one who broke it up in the first place.

“You think I’m fine? You actually think I’m okay with all this? You haven’t even—you haven’t even seen me before last night, and even then I was a wreck. Y/n, how could you even think like that?”

“Look at you!” She yells, eyes widened and teeth clenched as she speaks. Her hands are at her head, pressing at her temples in complete hysteria and despair. “All fucking pretty and perfect! I don’t see anything wrong with you, like there’s nothing gripping at your throat or feeding your insides with the guilt that should be eating you fucking alive right now!”

“Y/n—“

“And look at me! Just take a goddamn look at me and how fucked up I am! Do you see what the problem is? Do you see how none of this is fair to me? Fuck you and fuck your precious happiness, and fuck your selfish decisions and just fuck you, Harry! Fuck you!

Her voice is harsh and loud enough to nearly echo from the walls. The cries and whimpers haven’t stopped, either, and there’s a certain type of tension building between them that’s nearly sucking the air from their throats.

But she’s not stopping, not yet. She still has so much to say and nothing is getting in her way, not now.

“How did it feel, Harry?! How did it feel to love on some other woman while your ex-girlfriend was alone and breaking on her bed?! Was it nice?! How did it feel?!”

Harry’s jaw clenches once the words leave her mouth, and his hands are balling to fists at the side of his thighs. He’s frustrated—frustrated because she’s so blinded by her own pain that she hasn’t eve acknowledged his. And the way she’s making it sound—like he doesn’t love her, like he doesn’t care—almost makes him throw up.

As much as he fucked up, he never imagined to be perceived as such a villain. She’s looking down on him, digging into his insecurities and accusing him of being a man he knows he’ll never be capable of being, and he doesn’t like it one bit. As much as he had done wrong, he never found pleasure in her pain and he doesn’t even want to think about how that thought processed through her brain.

“Are you being serious right now? You really need to tell me this isn’t some sort of sick joke.”

Her eyes narrow up at him, and for the first time since he’s seen her, she starts to laugh.

It’s a habit she’s obtained whenever she tries to hold back all the anger boiling inside of her. It’s a rare occasion, considering she never really gets mad, especially at him. But she’s on the edge of complete rage, and she feels it building inside of her.

She still has tears falling from her eyes, and they’re both unsure whether it’s from the laughter, the pain, the anger, or all three of them.

“You think I’m joking? You want to hear a real joke, Harry? You saw me. You saw me at the grocery store, you saw me looking at Jessica wearing our shirt and you didn’t do anything! You did absolutely nothing, you just fucking stood there and watched me fall apart. What kind of twisted shit was that, Harry? Did it make you feel good about yourself? Or was it a nice image to look back on while you fucked Jessica the following night?”

All his frustration subsided when her voice started to crack and shake between her words. Her emotions are scattered, along with his, but he can’t help but feel an aching in his chest when he sees how helpless she looks.

Looking back at it, Y/n gets the same exact feeling she did that morning—betrayed, broken, and completely hated. There is no other explanation for it. He had to have hated her, for whatever reason it may be, it’s the only thing that makes sense.

The Harry that loved her would never leave her to fend for herself. He wasn’t the same man she remembered him being. The kindhearted, selfless, loving man she fell in love with was not the man she came to contact with—standing with a mysterious girl, showing her off in the t-shirt that meant everything to him and Y/n.

He had to have hated her.

“Is that—“ his voice cracks, and he has to swallow the lump building in his throat before he continues to speak, “Is that what you think? That I just watched because I’m heartless?”

She sighs, shaking her head softly. She crosses her arms at her chest, tucking her hands beneath them as her eyes drift away from his.

She never thought he was heartless, but there must have been something he had against her for him to not say anything to her. She deserved an explanation, or even a half-assed apology at the slightest. But she got nothing. All she got silence and heartbreak and everything inside of her knew that she didn’t deserve it.

There had to have been something.

“No, I just—I never felt so hated before. It was like—like you found some sort of comfort in watching me suffer. You never did that, Harry. You never did that to me, not in all the years that I’ve known you and knowing that you didn’t want me anymore was like all the life was sucked out of me all at once.”

She closes her eyes as she sobs, clutching the fabric of her shirt in her hands right where her heart is.

“Just imagine feeling your heart stop beating and your lungs collapsing all at once. I thought you hated me, Harry. Nothing was worse than feeling that, nothing.”

An inhumane sound emits from Harry’s chest—something between a sob and a growl—a sound she’s never heard before and it’s utterly pitiful.

He’s never thought of it in that way. The thought of Y/n thinking he’s hated her never crossed his mind, always just assuming that she was so upset because Jessica crept her way into his life. But the more he thinks about it, all the more it makes sense.

When he saw Dan wearing Harry’s ring, all the hope that Y/n was ever going to love him again was ripped away from him. The feeling of betrayal and heartbreak was so overwhelming because while he was suffering from the loss of her, she was finding comfort in somebody else and nothing brought him more pain than thinking she didn’t love him anymore.

And that’s exactly what he did to her. She was waiting for him—waiting for him to come back and fight for their relationship. She was alone and hurt all throughout the nights while he was finding pleasure in another woman to get him through the pain.

He’s put her through so much that she didn’t deserve, and he doesn’t know how he can live with himself for it.

He whimpers, tentatively reaching out for the hand that’s decorated with his rose ring, and slowly brings her against his chest. She buries her face in his t-shirt as she weeps out the rest of her tears, tugging at the back of his t-shirt in agony.

“No, baby. No. Please don’t ever think that. I didn’t say anything because I didn’t know what to say, and everything that I wanted to say was getting so scrambled inside of my brain that I couldn’t even understand what was happening. There were so many things, my love. There were so many things I wanted to say to you but I just couldn’t, and it’ll be something I have to live with for the rest of my life.”

He presses a kiss to the top of her head, squeezing her a little tighter in his arms as he brushes out her hair between his fingers.

She feels his tears at the top of her head, but she doesn’t pay any attention to it. All she can wrap her head around is that Harry’s holding her again, shielding her from any other hurting that could get to her. And as much as she does want to push him away, she can’t, because she can finally fucking breathe again.

“And I’m so sorry, Y/n. I’m so sorry for all of this. I could never hate you, my love. I love you so goddamn much, you have to believe me. You don’t deserve this pain, sweetheart. I’ll do whatever it takes to mend you, okay? If you give me the chance, I’ll take the time to fix you. You just have to work with me.”

She nods against his chest, pushing him away from her a little bit so that she can look at him in the eyes. They’re red and soaked with tears, but she’s missed them all too much and they still make her weak in the knees.

“This will be a slow process, do you understand me? There’s a lot of lost trust and a lot of work that needs to be done when it comes to our relationship. I’m not risking this again, so we’re taking this slowly. I’ll stay at Gabby’s for another few weeks until I can fully trust you again. You’re not pulling that shit on me where you call Jessica when you’re lonely, you hear me? You call me. We’re in this together and we’re in this for a long time, but we have to do this my way.”

He nods feverishly, closing his eyes as he does so. His fingers dig into her back as he exhales strongly, almost as if releasing a breath he’s been holding in.

“We’ll go at your pace, sweetheart, I promise.”

She smiles softly—a true, heartwarming smile that Harry swears he could look at for the rest of his life. It somehow mends the ache in his chest and he starts to cry from happiness, this time, and he’s never been so relieved in his life.

“We’re really doing this, huh?” She giggles, running her fingertips along his back. “We’re really starting this all over again?“

He smiles down at her, admiring the woman he’s loved with every bit of his heart. She’s never looked so goddamn perfect, either, in this moment of complete serendipity.

“Yeah, we are.”

healingmagicandaspirin  asked:

I know you like Bakugou and all, but like...I wish he'd gotten off a little less easy for this, sorry. It's getting frustrating for me to watch him being coddled and all of his abusive actions being excused (a bad mental health day/week/month/whatever does NOT excuse the harm someone does to people) and him constantly getting off with a slap on the wrist or no punishment at all for bullying people. Kind of wish the school would just tell him they'll expel him if he doesn't get his act together.

Bakugou has been kidnapped, used as a hostage, all but molested (i mean, what else would you call what the Sludge villain did to him?) all at the age of 14, then he lost to someone he had a superiority complex over for nearly a decade and nearly (or did, depending on your point of view of how that scene went) had an emotional breakdown because of it, won the Sports Festival only because Todoroki couldn’t use his full power against him and Bakugou won in a way that was utterly unsatisfactory to him and felt like Todoroki couldn’t even bother to fight Bakugou at his fullest b/c Bakugou wasn’t worth it, went to Best Jeanist to train and instead basically wasted time and had his hair and clothes styled/changed for him, was forced to swallow his pride and work with Izuku to beat All Might which frustrated him to the point of tears (and he nearly gave up instead, which, for a boy who’s very model of what a hero is is based on Always Winning, this is a Big Thing), was kidnapped AGAIN by Shigaraki and was terrified out of his mind during it, was kidnapped IMMEDIATELY AFTARWARDS by AFO and had to be rescued by his classmates so he wouldn’t become a burden for All Might, and then blamed himself for All Might losing his powers and retiring, failed the Provisional Licence exam because of his bad behavior, breaks down again because all the guilt, the shame, the frustration to losing to Izuku, and confusion and struggle and everything, was finally too much for him to handle and he literally had no idea what to do until All Might showed up and explained everything.

from the very first chapter, Bakugou has been systematically punished by the narrative, over and over and over again. not specifically for his treatment of Izuku, but it’s not as if he’s been unpunished for his actions, either, and i’m sure that this is Horikoshi’s intent for having all of this happen to Bakugou in the first place.

Bakugou is going to apologize and make up for his actions towards Izuku, i know he will. but you can’t force him to do it because he’s not ready to as of right now. 

but he is going to make up for it somehow, because that is where the narrative is heading, and he’s already heading there as of the last chapter.

he’s giving Izuku advice. he’s framing it in an insulting way, but he’s giving Izuku advice on how to improve his fighting style. he never would have done that before all of this. 

the narrative is basically hitting Bakugou where it hurts constantly, over and over again, and forcing him to change and learn from his behavior, whether he wants to or not. 

i’m not excusing what he did to Izuku, because he did a lot of horrible things and he needs to make up for his actions. but in the span of just a few months, this kid has been through a lot and he has indeed been punished and put down by the narrative in many, many different ways that are specifically designed to hit him in the places it’ll hurt him the most

i’ve never excused his actions, but he’s just a kid, and kids can only take so much before they begin to break. god, he’s just a 15 year old child.

and again, it’s not as if he’s been unpunished by his behavior. he was absolutely punished for his bad attitude during the Provisional License exam by failing it, and he’s going to have to take extra classes in order to make up for it. if he were being coddled, he would’ve still passed regardless his bad attitude towards the victims. 

Horikoshi does him no favors.

he’s been punished enough by the narrative, and i do think that Aizawa gave them a fair punishment for their actions. their whole fight was framed as a schoolyard fight between two frustrated kids, after all.

it wasn’t really about the fight. it wasn’t about who beat who. the whole fight was there just so that these characters, these two children, could finally have an outlet for their emotions because they’ve never tried to talk to each other before, and this was the only way.

they’ve never tried to express their emotions to each other before. they’ve never tried to listen. this is something both of these characters needed.

being told that he’ll be expelled isn’t going to help his behavior. it’ll do the opposite, if anything. any more punishment than what they received would be overkill.

they acted like children, so they’re being treated like children. they’re doing chores and cleaning just like any kids who broke the rules would. 

Aizawa gives fair punishments. if he doesn’t think someone has potential, he expels them. 

and also, please note: neither Izuku or Bakugou were seriously injured from their fight. otherwise, Aizawa would’ve sent them to Recovery Girl. all they got were some scratches, cuts, and bruises. 

when Bakugou challenged Izuku and Todoroki, i wouldn’t be surprised if Aizawa was considering the idea of expulsion. however, Izuku and Bakugou were forced to be partners and, after a while, they were able to work together and pass the End of Term exam, so whatever might’ve happened otherwise was dropped.

but make no mistake, Bakugou’s behavior here was noted by Aizawa, and Bakugou was forced to move past this attitude and work with Izuku as punishment.

back to the events of the recent chapters, All Might even says that the events that happened between Bakugou and Izuku were just as much the adult’s fault as it was the kid’s. the children’s mental and emotional health is just as important as their strength and growth as heroes, and Bakugou seriously needed some help with that. 

and, not to mention, All Might let them fight it out. he eavesdropped long enough to know about Bakugou’s guilt, and let Bakugou and Izuku fight and express their emotions this way, because honestly, i don’t think they could’ve been able to talk it out in any other way. i’m not saying this is healthy behavior, because god knows it isn’t, but for these two it may have been the only way for them to clear the air. 

and it worked.

they’re both on their way to having a much, much less toxic relationship than what they had before. they might not be friends, but their relationship is much more positive compared to what it was before, because they finally let out all of those nasty emotions.

Bakugou and Izuku are much more calm, and are able to have a conversation now without it turning violent or angry. they got all of those complicated emotions out of their system and finally talked it out, if at least a little, and both are going to be better from it. 

hell, Bakugou even fully admitted that he threw the first punch. in no way is he blaming izuku for what happened. Bakugou is taking full responsibility for what he did. 

and again, Bakugou is giving Izuku advice. he’s helping Izuku in a very backwards, round about way, because it’s the only way he knows. but he’s still helping Izuku, something he absolutely would never have done before. 

Bakugou is growing. he’s learning. whether he wants to or not, he’s changing for the better, and he’s starting to realize that he is changing. that maybe he has to change. maybe he needs to.

he’s already showing a positive change after this fight. he’s taking responsibility for his actions, he’s not blaming Izuku, he’s giving Izuku advice, and he’s worrying about All Might’s secret getting out. punishing him for any more would be overkill, and it wouldn’t have anymore positive outcomes then what’s already been achieved.

he’s just a kid. he acted like a kid. he’s getting punished like any kid would be.

related metas:

anonymous asked:

Also....I have one more. What about assassin andrew being sent to kill neil but falls in love instead au ❤❤❤

Mostly, Andrew Minyard slits his marks’ throats. One clean slice on the side, a severed carotid artery, blood flow to the brain cut off. A quick death. Not out of mercy, but out of necessity—cutting major veins is too messy, and severing a windpipe is too slow.

So Andrew Minyard goes for the carotid arteries. Mostly.

Neil turns to the next page in the folder. Some of Minyard’s earlier victims were strangled to death. A few have been shot, though likely as a last resort—police reports mention signs of a struggle, bullets in the back of the head like they were trying to get away.

Well, “victims” is a subjective term. Implies faultlessness. Innocence. Andrew Minyard’s victims are never faultless or innocent. Before the Moriyamas hired him, Andrew Minyard operated like a vicious Robin Hood, or a Batman-for-pay, taking relatively small fees to rid real victims of their abusers.

And now he’s after Neil.

Keep reading

Sherlocked secrets Ssshhhhh

First day of Sherlocked LA, and lots of interesting tidbits! Got to do one of those meet and greet over wine deals, where we got to ask questions. I asked Mark if he was going for an “unreliable narrator” thing with the set things changing within episodes, e.g. The 221 hallway light. He was surprised and said he hadn’t noticed it, and no it was just a mistake. He said any differences were just mistakes. Someone asked him about the lighting if the skull picture, and he said it was a lightbox behind the pic, and that in some scenes it was just too bright so they dimmed it in post. So absolutely no meaning behind it, and he seemed quite sincere about that and even commented that people read too much into things like that, and that they don’t aim for that (meaning subtle meta meanings). Later I brought the same thing up to Arwen, and he said one of the lights had gotten broken and they couldn’t find an identical one, so they just threw a similar one up. Then he explained that there were 2 sets for the stairs, split by the landing, so that’s why you see both different lights in the same scene. Really kind of sad about all the meta we make up that is absolutely not there at all.

anonymous asked:

Hey dude how do you feel about all the pewdiepie drama lately? Honestly I still love him, he made mistakes trying to make a joke and he realized what he did was not cool and apologised. I dont think he deserves all the backslashes and hate he's gotten. But anyway what do you think?

(this post is talking to people generally, not specifically to you, the person who asked. :>) 

WHAT I FEEL ABOUT THE PEWDIEPIE SITUATION 

cuz I’m getting so many asks on it. 

I was in California for when this situation happened in Long Beach comicon from an event I literally came back from tonight, and I’m, both disgusted, and I’m not even surprised that this happened. If anything, I’m surprised it took so long for everyone else to finally chip in and see the vulgarity that the media is placing on Pewdiepie. 

I watch Pewdiepie’s videos every day. I also watch him more often and favor him over literally any other channel for he’s even apart of my daily routine. I wake up, watch the new vid that came out, and then draw. He’s by far my favorite channel, (I know, CRAZY! innocent little me doesn’t seem like the type to enjoy his entertainment, but I truly do, and will be a bro forever. XD lolol) and because I’ve been actively watching him without fail as a big fan of him for the past year, I’ve seen from the beginning how the media has placed attack after attack on him, warping what he says out of context to make him out to be a monster, when he is infact NOT. because I would watch the videos first and see the context of his videos before the media threw lies at him. The proof, in my opinion, is undeniable that pewdiepie is being attacked. It’s actually because of how I see raw proof of evidence of how disgusting the media is that I don’t trust a lot of news I see anywhere, even regarding politics because the media targets that like it’s a gold mine. (because for them it is. it’s all about money to the media, NOT morals or standers, click bate and ad rev and controling people’s views and opinions so they can keep wracking in more money for later scandalous news articles and reports. it’s all a fake greedy glutenous ploy for money.) So seeing what happens to pewdiepie, I don’t trust most media, because they are the same people that make news on everything, even to people I don’t always agree with or support such as Donald Trump. I will say that I am definitely not a Trump supporter, but the media does the same thing to him as they are doing to Pewdiepie, they are in the same position, Just… food for thought… 

Now when I say this, I want to make it clear that my point when I say this is that, be careful what you believe when it comes to hollywood, news, the media, the press, even when it comes to people you hate, or love.  

I may be only 22, so it’s probably not saying much when I say this, but I have NEVER seen the media, the press, news, even the bias of some teachers in education, Hollywood, etc become so full of lies, let alone people be so GULLIBLE as to believe whomever gets to them first, and then believe it without question, or do any background check, or research. The people that think Pewdiepie is what the media is making him out to be, is just as ridiculous to me as the media itself who is accusing him of these horrendous labels. Like seriously, the least you can do is watch his videos to actually see what’s going on. it takes all of 15 minutes. I don’t understand how people can be so disgustingly violent and ready to believe and hate and disrespect someone so quickly just because someone pointed the finger to them, let alone with false evidence, when they have NO idea what the story is? HOW Can you people be so hypocritical to call someone scum, and then act like scum, TO SOMEONE WHO IS INNOCENT!

basically, the media is disgusting, and I’ve seen it’s vulgarity for a while, and I find the people that believe it to be wrong too, especially when they spread hate themselves and lets the media control their views.  

Look, I’m not saying that Pewdiepie’s jokes were in good taste, and that labeling it as “oh it’s just a joke” justifies the bad joke he made, and I can understand why it would be offensive to some. but an offensive joke is something worth forgiving, that’s just a mistake, and it’s a COMMON mistake that many do, everyone is guilty. it only matters because he’s in the public eye. like it’s not like he raped someone, or committed murder. and unlike those things, a joke, does NOT define a person for what they truly believe in, that’s why it’s a “joke”. So to call pewdiepie any of the horrendous names that the media is labeling him under, is absolute slander and bull, it’s disgusting, it’s inhumane considering the fact that it’s literally an all out attack to give attempts in ruining his career, Just So the media can make money off of a story that isn’t even true.

I see other’s such as Markiplier, Jacksepticeye, h3h3, CToastKen, even The Amazing Atheist who hates pewdiepie, etc. defending pewdiepie, and these hypocritical “social justice warriors” who’s blindly follow the horrific media trying to tear down Markiplier and all who defend pewdiepie with hate, and calling them homophobic, racist, nazi, kkk, antisemetic etc. I even saw people accusing Markiplier, one of the most genuine and respectful people on youtube’s platform, being called these things today…So originally, being a small tiny youtuber in comparison to the giant youtubers who are being attacked just for defending a friend who is innocent…. I was scared to talk about this subject, because unlike them, a lot of hate for me defending pewdiepie can seriously hurt my channel…. And chances are, I will receive hate for this post, and will be labeled the same things as them. but ya know what?… I don’t care… And if people don’t agree with me and think I’m a homophobe, or a sexist, or a racist, and attack people and tell people to go die over a situation you don’t even know, (despite that I’m a female, feminist, liberal that is apart of the LGBT community) you can gladly unsub to me if you so desire. And I will respect that. because respect, is important. it’s not easy to respect someone you don’t agree with, or even someone who hurts you, it definitely takes the bigger person to respect something you don’t agree with, And it seems like a lost trait these days… 

So I’m ready and prepared for whatever is thrown at me once I click that little blue button saying “post” in the bottom right corner of my post. 

I completely 100,000% defend Pewdiepie, and stand firmly by him. The Media is disgusting.

We Are Young: Chapter 10

Throne of Glass High School AU

Summary: Senior Rowan Whitethorn is new to town. It doesn’t take him long to get use to a new school, make new friends, even join the local hockey team. But it also doesn’t take him long to meet sophomore and figure skater Aelin Galathynius. And it doesn’t take him long to realize one thing; he can’t stand her.

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

——————–

“Now on the ice, representing Rifthold Royals Figure Skating Club, Aelin Galathynius!” 

“It’s been quite a ride for seventeen-year-old Aelin Galathynius these past few years, and not all of it good. As most of you remember, she was slated to skate at Sectionals two years back, when she dropped out due to the sudden loss of fellow skater, Sam Cortland.” 

“But it’s amazing to finally see her competing here today, Embrys. All that good and bad, it makes you what you are in the big moments. And we’ll see if it ends up being positive here in Perranth.” 

“Niece of Worlds Champion Olron Galathynius, skating her short to The Assassin’s Tango - Aelin Galathynius.”

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Sugar Sweet  | 1 | (M)

word count: 8.9k (seriously, what a mouthful)

genre: smut + fluff; college AU + fuckboy!kihyun

pairing: reader/kihyun

summary: your best friend & roommate changkyun just wanted to help get you laid. instead you found solace in a pink haired man named kihyun who had a smart mouth with sharp words you weren’t afraid to let cut you, as long as he didn’t mind you hurting him a little too.

part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 | part 6

masterlist

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Storms and Visitors {Sirius Black x Reader} *SMUT*

Blessing your feeds with some SMUT SMUT SMURT SMUT. This was so worth it to write. Next one will be Remus ;)

Regulus invites you at his house to stay for the night until the storm stops but Sirius has other plans.

WARNING: SMUT, DOMINANT!SIRIUS, SEXUAL THEMES, WASH YOUR EYES WITH SOAP AFTER READING THIS

Enjoy! @allertonn

xx

When the hard rain and the thunder rumbled into a magnificent chaos in the night sky, Disappparating was simply not an option. It was a huge mistake to leave the house especially for (Y/n). She had not yet learned how to Disapparate properly and even worse, she was stuck in Diagon Alley. Everyone had ran for cover as soon as the rain poured heavily and (Y/n) quickly stayed at Madam Malkin’s when she heard someone call her name.

“(Y/n)?” Regulus said, walking towards her with a smile. “How nice to see you here.”

“Regulus!” She exclaimed, clearly surprised as well to find her housemate in the shop. She came up to him with a long embrace before pulling back. “The weather’s crazy, isn’t it? A storm right in the middle of summer.”

“Yeah, it’s quite strange,” he agreed. “How are you?”

“Fine as usual. What’re you buying, by the way?” (Y/n) asked, peeking curiously at the coat he carried in his arm.

“Oh, I didn’t buy anything. This is my brother’s,” he said, showing the black coat with several holes. “He came to visit today since our parents aren’t home. I’m just getting it fixed for him.”

“That’s so sweet of you!” (Y/n) smiled, making Regulus blush.

“I guess so. We may hate each other but we’re still brothers,” he chuckled, rubbing his neck, a habit both Black brothers had when they wanted to ask something nervously. “Hey, listen, do you know how to get back home by yourself?”

“I’m still figuring it out. The rain doesn’t look like it’s stopping,” (Y/n) replied, looking up at the ceiling where she can hear the hard pitter patters of the rain.

“Well, I was wondering if you wanted to stay at my house for the night. It’s quite late and I know you live very far but my house is near by. We can take some Floo powder instead so we won’t have to get wet.”

“Are you sure, Regulus? I-I don’t want to be a bother or anything…”

“It’s fine! I’m sure my brother won’t mind,” he reassured, “but if you don’t want, that’s fine too. I completely understand if you don’t want to come with me–”

“Regulus,” she comforted, “Thank you.”

She held his hand and rested her head on his shoulder as he lines up in front of the counter with a smile on his face.

Green flames erupted from the ashes of the fireplace in Grimmauld Place and out came (Y/n) first, shortly followed by Regulus. The dining room was dark and empty except their house elf who was carrying a silver tray.

“Welcome home, Master Regulus,” he greeted, “Kreacher sees his master brought company. How nice.”

“Oh, Kreacher, this is (Y/n). She’s staying her until the storm stops,” Regulus said, shaking off his coat and hanging it on the chair before taking a seat.

“Would the young miss like some tea?” Kreacher offered, showing her his silver tray full of teacups and teabags. “The bloodtraitor hates anything Kreacher gives. Kreacher thinks he should not eat anymore. Filthy bloodtraitor–”

“Just chamomile for me, thank you,” (Y/n) said, not wanting to hear what else he has to say about Sirius who just came down from the stairs.

“Regulus, is that you?” He called from behind the door before entering the dining room, his eyes immediately setting on (Y/n).

“Didn’t know your girlfriend will be here,” Sirius smirked as he leaned against the door frame. He was incoming his seventh year already and (Y/n) felt her heart race.

“She’s not my girlfriend, Sirius. She’s my…friend,” Regulus said the last part softly.

“I’m (Y/n). I’m just staying here for the night. I promise I won’t try to be a bother–”

“Hey, no worries. I don’t mind a little company,” Sirius said, “Regulus, why don’t you show her to our guest room? I’m sure she’s exhausted.”

(Y/n) have known about Sirius and the troubles he would cause back in Hogwarts but she had never expected him to be very welcoming especially to someone who was a Slytherin like his whole family. She imagined he would be more cold and maybe even worse but she was happy to know that he was polite and kind.

The two brothers led her to their guest room which had a large, four poster bed with a chandelier hanging on top. It was nice and clean and obviously, painted in gray and green. Regulus walked in to make sure it was comfortable enough for her when he heard the thunder rumble outside.

“The rain’s not stopping but I hope you’ll be able to get some rest. I’m assuming you’ve had dinner already?”

“Yeah,” (Y/n) answered before walking towards him. “Thank you for letting me stay. If it weren’t for you, I’d still be soaking wet in Diagon Alley.”

“You’re welcome,” he whispered shyly, feeling his cheeks redden once more. “If you need anything, I’ll be down the hall.”

“Thank you. Good night, Regulus.”

“Good night, (Y/n).”

The door creaked softly as the brother entered the room. He kept his footsteps light while his eyes watched (Y/n)’s chest rise up and down, her hand holding tight onto the pillow as she dreamed. Her neck was completely exposed but as he approached her closer, he saw that she was only dressed in her lace underwear.

Sirius felt himself harden at the sight, not being able to contain the temptation any longer. He crawled slowly and gently on top of her. He trailed his lips from her collarbone up to her throat until he reached her chin. She really looked delectable.  She moaned at the feeling, the sound driving him insane as he kissed her neck.

Sirius…”

He pulled away at the mention of his name, checking if she was awake. Her eyelids slowly opened as he watched her carefully but she did not seem surprised. She smiled and slipped her fingers through his thick, dark locks.

“Why’d you stop, darlin’?”

Sirius immediately dove in to taste her lips. He kissed her rapaciously, his tongue begging for entrance, needing to feel the sensation of her tongue playing with his. She allowed him to slip inside while grinding against the tent that had formed in his trousers. It made him moan and even want her more. Throwing his shirt aside, he licked his lip and stripped her off her undergarments before proceeding to remove his pants. His cock was already aching from the tight confines of his jeans and the dark spot on his boxers was enough evidence to show her how much he wanted her. He licked her neck up and down before he bit her earlobe softly, his hand trailing down to her breasts. He pinched her nipple between his fingers and as she let out a moan, he began to massage her.

“ ‘Been wanting this now, haven’t you?” He teased, sucking onto the spot right below her ear. He lowered his hand further, his palm feeling every inch of her skin as he guided his fingers to her entrance where he felt her already soaking wet.

He teased her lips by rubbing his finger up and down and barely slipping in the tip of his finger. The combination of his kisses on her neck and his teasing made her almost control. Her hips bucked at his hand, making him chuckle.

“Please, Sirius. N-Need you…”

“Hm, maybe not yet, love.” He said, pulling back his fingers and putting them into his mouth while she watched him. As much as he wanted to tease her, he himself also wanted to taste her more and so he stretched her legs wide open. Seeing her dripping for him made him growl hungrily. He kissed her inner thighs softly before dragging his tongue on her clit and slowly slipping into two of his fingers inside.

“Oh God…” She let out, holding onto his hair as an effort to get him closer. Sirius immediately got her message, moving his fingers in and out rapidly, making her clench tight. He alternated between moving his fingers inside and sticking his tongue in, both giving her the pleasure she so desired. As her climax neared, Sirius pulled out his fingers and concentrated on giving her release with his tongue.

Her hands gripped onto his hair, allowing him to moan into her and sending vibrations. He removed his boxers while keeping his mouth on her entrance and with a buck of her hips and a loud moan, she came on his tongue.

He lapped onto her juices both inside and out. He wanted to make sure he tasted every drop of her essence before he pulled away. She was breathing heavily as she watched him smirk and hover above her.

“How was it?”

“Good…good…” She breathed but Sirius was not yet finish.

He teased the head of his cock up and down her entrance, slicking her with her own juices, his precum, and his saliva. (Y/n) instinctively rose her hips to let him slide in but he held her hips to prevent her from moving.

“Tell me, love. Is this what you want?”

“Sirius, please…I want you.” She looked at him with pleading eyes, her arms around his neck. “I’m ready for you.”

He stopped teasing her for a while, his lips coming down onto hers. He kissed her lightly, in contrast to how he started earlier. He moved his lips against her in a sweet and delicate way as though she was fragile. She kissed him back lovingly before she felt him slightly push in his cock to her wet entrance. He pulled back and pressed his sweaty forehead against hers, eyes on each other. She nodded at him before he slid all the way into her tight core where she welcomed him. He bottomed out and started to move, stretching her for his thick length.

Gentle and slow was his pace as he whispered praises to her ear, reminding her how good she made him feel and how tight she was becoming. She was like a euphoric pill and his own, personal nirvana. The sounds she made as he continued to push in and out of her were angelic and flawless, though every once in a while, he would kiss her to keep her voice down so as to prevent her from waking up his brother.

“We don’t want any one to interrupt us now, do we?” He whispered, kissing her cheek.

Her climax was beginning to start once more as Sirius decided to speed up his thrusts. From slow and gentle, his pace became hard and fast. He was becoming erratic and rough since he was also starting to feel himself close. He kept his thrusts powerful, the head of his cock hitting her spot repeatedly.

“(Y/n), gonna cum! Gonna cum inside!”

“Come on, Sirius. I’m close too.”

The two moaned in chorus and with one last push, Sirius felt himself spill inside her. She came as soon as she felt the warm sensation flood her core, her juices mixing in with his. He kept himself inside her for a few minutes even as he softened, his face buried in her neck. He trailed kisses on her skin once more before he pulled out and laid back down beside her, the two panting heavily. After a few minutes of rest, they both fell asleep through the stormy night.

Today was my last day selling prints at an Artist Alley table and I didn’t have my Cintiq Companion (plus my phone died), so I decided to actually use a sketchbook when things were slow. It has been a ridiculously long time since I’ve done anything traditional, I can’t even say… I’m really out of practice, but I managed some Merthur (surprise, surprise) with brush pens and a gold sharpie. I missed having Ctrl+Z, ahh… but it was interesting to just make do with my mistakes. Like, Merlin’s eyes were supposed to be somewhat open, but his eyelashes took over and there was no going back, lol! I made things look a bit more presentable in Photoshop and now I’m happy to share. Gonna try to do more practice in my sketchbook! ;) 

(My Art Tag) *Please don’t repost(?) or use elsewhere without my permission, and don’t delete my captions, thanks!

Of Beams and Broken Hearts

Summary: You’re a gymnast and your (sort of hot) coach…well let’s just say he hates your guts. All that changes when you make a simple error in your routine. 

Pairing: Lance Tucker x Reader

Word Count: 3,667 words

Warnings: Swearing, a bit of angst, fluff at the end

Notes: IT IS VERY SAPPY I KNOW, BUT I WRITE LIKE THAT. THINGS DEVELOP FAST IN THIS STORY, I KNOW THAT TOO. THE AGE DIFFERENCE WOULD BE 2-4 YEARS. I also know nothing about gymnastics, forgive me. 

Based off: An anonymous fluffy friday™ ask on the blog @bucky-plums-barnes 

Originally posted by love-buckybarnes

“Y/N! That was terrible!” A voice hollered from the other side of the gym.

You exhaled deeply, and brushed your hand across your forehead, ridding your skin of the sweat that had accumulated there.

“Do it again!”

You slowly moved to the other side of the mat and poised yourself at the start position. Taking a breath, you began running, before planting your hands onto the ground. You pushed off the mat, turning in a round off. Pressured, you moved into a high back hand spring before propelling yourself into a double back sault. You instantly knew that you underestimated your height as you spun. When you landed, your right foot hit the mat at a different time to your left foot, making you stumble a little. You stabilised yourself quickly, but your coach had already seen it.

“Not good enough, Y/N!” He yelled, walking over, with his hands on his hips firmly.

He was wearing the same outfit he wore almost everyday-red jacket, blue tracksuit, sunglasses and brown hair swooped back slightly. To be perfectly honest, you thought he looked pretty hot in that ensemble, but there was no time to think about that because he was criticising you again, loudly.

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anonymous asked:

Dai romances react to the first time the inquisitor kisses them in an affectionate way/on the forehead? Iv been cryin thinkin bout how bull and Dorian and like a lot of the crew have only ever had experience in like purely sexual relationships and have never like had someone love them like that

Cassandra: She flushes. It’s almost impossible not to. By now there’s no doubt that they hold each other in no little affection, and there is still a part of her -the part of her that will always revel in romance- that always cherishes the few moments they are able to sneak away for a brief kiss or tender moment above the forge. But the first time he raises her hand to place a kiss on her knuckles, eyes sparkling as he looks up at her with humor and yet also with an adoration that steals her breathe? She flushes scarlet, and her heart skips a beat as she is swamped with emotion.

Solas: The first time he feel soft brush of her lips against the curve of his ear she is leaving from a meeting with Leliana and he is laying the groundwork for his next mural. The line of the brush jumps as he does, surprised by the brief moment of affection, but even though he must scrape the mistake from the fresco and start again Solas cannot find it in his soul to be frustrated. Rather it is endearing in it’s own way and it brightens hm for the rest of the day.

Sera: She’s got both hands and her teeth involved in tying the fletching on her next batch of arrows, and yet it never crosses her mind that using her teeth as a cutting instrument have limited her affection access until her lover drops a kiss on the tip of her nose. She almost topples over form surprise, but then the Red Jenny bursts out laughing and tackles her Inqy with a kiss of her own. It’s the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for her, and it becomes their thing for mornings or greetings.

Blackwall: Carving can put knots like no one would believe in the arms and shoulders, and no amount of kneading can stop the pain in muscles that he can’t reach on his own. But the first time his lady massages those tension knots from him the warrior all but collapses into a puddle. And when she presses a kiss to the center of his shoulder blades, for those moments when she cannot be there to make the tension stop, his heart almost bursts. And Blackwall will carry the sensation of it for hours afterwards, a smile carved onto his face.

Iron Bull: It’s funny, sometimes, how much taller he is than his Kadan. Even if they are qunari his horns and sheer size puts him over most. And so the almost frustrated huff the Inquisitor gives him when they are preparing to leave makes him laugh and go to pat their head. And yet the kiss they place on the inside of his wrist stops that cold. It could be sexual- should be sexual, would be in any other relationship-, but with them…it’s more. It’s affection and promise, love and something that is simply theirs all rolled into one. Later he will find himself rubbing the spot for hours, mind running a thousand miles an hour but with a smile on his face.

Dorian: He loves his amatus. He does, loves him truly and deeply and anyone who says otherwise will meet the altus to face that insult. The hours he spends with the Inquisitor are some of the best in his life, and every affectionate moment washes clear some of the fear and loneliness he thought he would always carry. And for that the ‘vint will always be grateful. But he is also a scholar, and when his focus is on something it can be hard to shake loose. He is aware that his amatus has come to bid him farewell before another turn in the field, and he is going to look up from his book any second to give them a proper send off, he is– but then he hears the other man chuckle, and suddenly the Inquisitor has bent down to press a kiss to the crown of his head, a gentle bit of pressure where his hair parts. And while the necromancer playfully swats them away and insists on giving them a proper send off later he will sit in his chair, fingers running tiny circles around the spot, and wonder at this love that he has found.

Josephine: A diplomat’s work is never finished, and it is to Lady Montilyet frustration that she can never carve out enough free time to spend with her love as she would like. Between their constant world missions and her drive to make sure said missions are funded their paths do not often cross. And so she is delighted when they wander into her office with a tray and an offer to split the duties of letter writing– especially as there are some nobles who would be far more helpful after receiving something in the herald’s own hand. And while the gentle kiss that they press to her temple as they collect their half of the work is new, it immediately seems right. And if she spends the next ew days brushing her fingers across it and sighing no one needs to know why but her.

Cullen: There were times, particularly near the end of his tenure in Kirkwall, where Cullen was sure that the Maker had abandoned him. That his failure as Knight Captain had sundered him from grace, and that he was doomed to carry that failure all his life. But then the Inquisitor tumbled from the Fade and into his arms, and for the first tme it felt like he could breathe again. There were bad nights and horrible days, and when he finally tells her the truth the Commander is terrified that he is going to lose this last thing that truly gives meaning to his life. But the kiss sh presses to his forehead is like benediction, forgiveness and love all rolled into one, and for the first time in too long he can see a future in his mind’s eye– with her by his side.

– Mod Fereldone

The boss' darling

It starts as a joke. The auror department considered Newt Scamander one of the most adorable creatures that they’ve met. But after a few weeks of him being their consultant it became clear he was only for their boss.

At least that’s what it looks like. Because they’ve never seen Percival Graves act like he does when Newt is around. And before they notice they start to call him Graves’ darling. But it’s just a joke.

And, in their defense, that begins because Director Graves behavior changed after Scamander’s arrival.

He is less angry and grumpy when Newt’s around. He uses to carry the magizoologist in his arms when he falls asleep (and Newt falls asleep anywhere if he’s tired; cafeteria, garden or even over an auror’s shoulder). Graves takes him to his office and close the door, warning anyone near by what would happen to them if they dare to wake him up.

Director Graves also likes to take Newt out to eat or he brings him food himself, making sure the reddish hair wizard eats properly and he doesn’t miss any meal. Newt argues with him sometimes, assuring him he can take care of himself, but Graves prefers to ignore him.

And he has good reason to do it.

Because one day Newt scared the hell out of them.

It was almost New Year’s Eve, the magizoologist was talking with auror Goldstein about maticore’s venom. They all knew he wasn’t sleeping well because of the dark shadows below his eyes, but they had no idea he had forgotten to eat. They didn’t know he was that weak until Goldstein yelled his name, scared when Newt’s eyes closed. Fortunately, Graves was near them, speaking with Picquery, but he was keeping an eye on him (their boss was always looking at Newt) and appeared next to him just in time to catch him in his arms before he fell to the ground.

The healers told them he was going to be fine, he just needed food and sleep. They all were to see him when he finally woke up, just a quick visit to make him know they cared. They left eventually, when the healers insisted, but Director Graves… He didn’t leave Newt’s side and even growled at the few people who were brave enough to try to convince him otherwise.

They weren’t successful of course. He looked angry because ‘It seems, Mr Scamander, you don’t care about your own health. How could’ve you forgotten to eat?’ but they knew better to see all that attitude was just to hide the fact that he was deeply worried.

Another thing they start to notice is their boss seems awfully incapable of keeping his hands to himself when Newt’s around. There’s always a hand touching the wizard’s shoulder, fingers ‘fixing’ the magizoologist bowtie, hands cupping a face full of freckles, arms around a waist just to prevent the other one from 'falling’. 'Be careful, Newt, this path is particularly slippery,’ which is a total lie and they all know it, but their boss looks happy and Newt doesn’t seem to mind.

And don’t let them start about his boss jealousy, because boy he is jealous. He can’t help but to get involved in any conversation Newt is in, because he can’t stand the magizoologist paying too much attention to someone that’s not him. Nor he can’t help but glaring and snarling at anyone who looks at Scamander like they’re interested.

And that poor poor soul that tried to flirt with Newt that day. It was one of the British aurors that came to discuss of international security with Madam Picquery. He recognized Newt because he was Theseus’ colleague. He asked about Newt’s work and they all know the magizoologist gets very excited when someone asks about his creatures. And he smiles and giggles with the British auror and the man looks charmed (because why wouldn’t he be, Newt’s truly adorable).

“Theseus didn’t tell me you were so cute,” he comments and Newt blushes prettily.

And that was the last thing they heard him say because he died that day.

Okay no, he didn’t, but it was a close call.

“Newt, I think Miss Goldstein is looking for you,” Director Graves says and the magizoologist nods and walks away quickly. The British auror wants to follow, but is stopped by Graves.

They don’t know if was something their boss said or just the murderous look on his face, but the auror paled suddenly and he never tried to talk with Newt again.

The poor guy.

So their joke begins, they don’t even remember who came up with it, but they don’t care, because somehow it feels so natural to call Newt the boss’ darling that some days they even forget it’s a joke.

But then some messes up and does it while Graves is still in the room with them. They all get petrified, while watching their boss blinking in surprise.

“What did you say?”

Kenneth looks up in horror, realising his own mistake.

“I’m terribly sorry, Sir.” He mumbles.

“You called Newt my 'darling’?”

“I didn’t mean… It was a-”

But Director Graves doesn’t seem to care, he looks like he’s forgotten they’re more wizard in the room with him because he starts to smile to himself.

“It’s okay. No harm done,” he assures, shocking everyone. “Now… Where were we?”

So… The rumor spreads and they all start to think that maybe Newt is, in fact, Graves’ darling.

Until Queenie tells them the truth.

“No, they’re not dating,” she informs.

And honestly it makes them feel disappointed because now they’re sure that their boss is pining and Newt is completely oblivious to everything.

Well… there must be something they can do about it.

So they tell Newt and hope for the best.

The magizoologist face turns completely red and he looks like he doesn’t quite believes them. He’s about to argue when Percival Graves walks in the room.

“What’s going on here?” He frowns at them, but his irritation changes to worry when he looks at Newt. He approaches him and cups his face in his hands. “Are you okay?”

They’re not sure if is something in the way he looks at Newt or in his voice, but suddenly the magizoologist eyes’ wide with realization right then and there.

So he smiles at Graves, a beautiful soft smile, and leans in to kiss him. The kiss is quick, because Graves is still in shock to respond so Newt steps back, thinking he’s made a mistake.

Director Graves grins like he just finished all the paperwork for the next ten years and tooks Newt by the waist and kisses him with all he has.

But he stops after a moment, suddenly remembering his aurors are still in there. Newt must have remembered it too, because he hides his face in Graves’ neck.

“Will you be standing there all they? Are you planning on returning to WORK anytime soon?”

That’s their cue to leave and they do with pleasure because their mission is accomplished and honestly they both look so cute together.

So they leave Director Graves and his darling alone.

H2O

Summary: You challenge Bucky not to laugh on your day off.

Pairing:  Bucky x Reader

Warnings: fluff, humour of the pun kind

Word Count: 1,491

A/N: this is my first fic ever posted here! I’d love any feedback, comments, questions, etc.  I’ve done this water challenge with friends, and let me tell you, it gets pretty crazy. 

I hope you enjoy!

Originally posted by sebuttianstans

“Wait…explain it to me again.”

“It’s called the Water Challenge, you have to fill up your cheeks with water.“

“And then see how fast I can drink this whole thing?” Bucky held up the water pitcher. “Newsflash, doll, my bladder can only hold so much.”

You giggled.  “No, you hold water in your mouth—I do it too, don’t give me that face—then we’ll try to make each other laugh. Whoever laughs and lets all the water fall out loses.”

“Where’d you find this?”

“Buzzfeed.”

“Of course it was Buzzfeed,” Bucky sighed, shaking his head slightly.

You were sitting crossed legged in the living room, movie cases strewn haphazardly on the coffee table and plates everywhere.  The team had left for a quick two-day mission, leaving you and Bucky alone in the tower. It was something you relished in, loving how you had Bucky all to yourself.  The two of you were best friends but recently your thoughts around him had taken a…different route. A more-than-friends route.

Taking the pitcher you filled both of the glasses with water and handed one to your opponent.

“But isn’t this better than another day filling out the paperwork Bruce left us?”

“True.  And I get to spend it with you,” he said, poking your nose with his index finger. You could feel yourself blush, so you busied yourself with smoothing down the carpet.  

Your lack of attention was a mistake. You yelped as he flicked his half-full glass at you. Mouth in a gaping ‘O’, you said, “I see how its going to be! What happened to Skeptical Bucky?”

“He’s still here, but it’s still a challenge, and I plan to win.  Got a problem with that doll?” An evil grin spread across his handsome face.

“Nope. Cause I’m going to win.”

“Mhm, keep telling yourself that. Let’s talk stakes.”  

“Okay.”   You watched him shift to refill his glass, your eyes gravitating towards his lips.  Then your mouth opened, and you surprised even yourself with what came out.  “If I win, you have to kiss me.”

The pitcher stopped as if time was frozen.  “And if I win?”

“Then I have to kiss you.”

Courage. Can’t say it’s not spontaneous.

Water dripped agonizingly slow into the cup, yet when your eyes met Bucky’s again, his were a shade darker blue than before.  “Sounds reasonable. Ready?”

You sat up straighter and both of you lifted your glass in a ‘cheers’ motion before downing it. The water sloshed around in your mouth; thank the stars you weren’t thirsty or this challenge would have been torture. You started off simple, wide then narrowed eyes, crossing them to look at your nose. Small smile. No water.  

Bucky’s turn.  He waggled his heavyset eyebrows to imitate the wave.  You arranged your face to show that he had to try harder.  As much as you wanted that kiss, you weren’t going to lose on purpose.

Back and forth the two of you devised creative ways to make each other laugh, but to no avail.  Bucky was a surprisingly good competitor; it wasn’t your first time playing the challenge, and truthfully you had been expecting to win right off the bat.  Time to up the intensity.  

You flicked his cheek, resulting in a hollow sound that nearly made you lose it when paired with his shocked expression.  Knowing Bucky as well as you did, you could imagine what he was thinking.

‘Did you just flick me?’

‘Whatcha going to do about it, old man?’

A jet of water was sprayed at your face in answer.

‘Alright.  No more Mrs. Nice Y/N’

You reached out and started to tickle his sides, an action that made him recoil back. Or so you thought. Movement happened, and suddenly Bucky sat smugly on your legs, pinning you to the ground.  Never breaking eye contact, he reached teasingly for the water pitcher and dangled it right above your face. His smirk was simultaneously as hot, and as terrifying as hell.

‘Nonononono’ you tried to wiggle out from under Bucky—-splash. You were utterly and completely soaked, as was the couch and the carpet beneath you. You sighed in resignation, pretending to be annoyed by Bucky’s muffled laughter. He was close to breaking…and off-balance, pumping his fists in premature victory, if you had anything to do with it.

You used your training to flip him over so you were straddling him.  Grabbing a pillow off the couch, you promptly dropped it from your height onto his head.  To add insult to injury you spit all your water on your best friends’ face after he pushed the pillow off.  

“Who’s wet now!”  

This time Bucky couldn’t hold it in and he gasped out his water; you could feel his laughs resonating through your legs, and you realized what a compromising position you were in.

Apparently, Bucky was thinking the same thing.  His hands moved to rest on your waist, one warm, one cool; your eyes watched as his sinful tongue flicked out to make his lips more inviting. The mood of the room had quickly switched from playful to something deeper, more intimate.

“Well, doll. I think I won.”

“Yeah…guess you did.”

You both knew what that meant. The courage from earlier crept back. Your fingers weaved their way into his soft locks, and you finally leaned down so those captivating blue eyes were closer closer, parted lips closerclosercloser

“Good evening Mr. Stark, welcome home.”  

A ding of the elevator and F.R.I.D.A.Y.  startled you enough to tumble off Bucky. You scampered onto the couch before the team could come down the hall.

Why oh why did they have to come back now? You stole a nervous glance at the boy you were about to kiss not ten seconds ago.

Slowly, Bucky pushed himself up to lean against the opposite couch, cleared his throat, and used both hands to push back his hair.  That tongue swiped at his lips again and it was all you could do to stay on the couch.  You swore you could see an expression of frustration cross his features when your teammates emerged from around the corner, but you were probably just hoping.  Really hoping.  

“Hey you two,” Steve greeted.  The chorus of ‘hellos’ followed from the rest of the team. Sam and Tony whizzed over the fridge, Nat took a seat at the island, and the others drifted off to their respective rooms.

“Hey,” you said.  Your fingers fiddled with the bottom of your pants and you fought to keep your attention on Steve’s report of their success.

“It was an open-and-shut case, we just went in and the scientists confessed immediately,” he said, “it’s actually nice to have people cooperate with us for once.”

“Less discus,” Tony mumbled through his sandwich.

Clint returned to sit on the couch.  You and Bucky exchanged an alarmed look, all awkward gone–he ducked his head away, shoulders shaking. You had to cover your mouth with your hand for fear of bursting out laughing.

“Why is the floor so wet?!”

“Blame Buzzfeed!” you yelled, grabbing Bucky’s hand and escaping to your room.  

“That game was absolutely ridiculous, Y/N,” he chuckled, shutting the door behind him. “I’m soaked.”

“Gives a new meaning to ‘within spitting distance’ huh?”

He took a few steps closer. “You know what? I think I’d prefer to be within kissing distance.”

Your heart skipped a beat; you didn’t hope after all. “Well, currently, we have no other options.”

Bucky titled his head. “Was that a water pun?”

“…maybe.”

“You’ve gotta stop doing that,” he laughed slightly and looked up at the ceiling.

“Doing what?” you asked with a taunting grin. Bucky reached out and tucked a loose piece of hair behind your ear. His hand lingered, cupping your cheek.

“Saying things that make me want to kiss you.”

Your heart was beating so fast you were sure he could hear it. Feel it too, since he leaned in so his forehead rested against yours.

“What if I told you not only was that one pun, it was two.”

“Then I’d have to do this.”

Bucky lowered his lips to meet yours, the moment you had dreamed of for so long.  The kiss was soft and gentle and chaste at first. Then Bucky’s arms encircled your waist, and you reached up and tangled yours around his neck, adding more pressure to your lips, deepening the kiss.  Your parted lips opened further, allowing your tongues to earnestly say hello. Finally you pulled apart, arms still around one another.

“I’ve been wanting to do that for so long…”

“Me too,” you breathed.

“I think I like winning.” The corner of his mouth twitched up in a lopsided grin.  

“Don’t get used to it, I demand a rematch.” You bumped his nose with yours. “But later,” you said, pulling him in for another kiss, “we haven’t completed the stakes yet.”

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tagging some of my favourites and inspiration because I’m new and I really admire you :) 

a big thank you to @fxckmebuck for being amazing with writing, and all the tips and encouragement! 

@buckyywiththegoodhair @avengerofyourheart @bovaria @wndas-romanoff @thejamesoldier @caplanbuckybarnes @softcorehippos @papi-chulo-bucky@buckybarnesismypreciousplum @mangosoldier 

(let me know if you want to be untagged)