he's the most perfect man in the world

Family’s What You Make Of It

Family’s What You Make Of It | It starts when Dan stumbles through the door of his two bedroom flat with an attractive stranger attached to his mouth, and it ends with, well… a family. Or, the one where Dan is a single father of a three year old, who intends for Phil to be nothing more than a one night stand until he see’s him interact with his daughter for the first time. | Phan | Mature | Smut, self-neglect, implied self-esteem issues, single father Dan | 4,374 Words

Thank you so @phansdick for encouraging me (as always) and then being wonderful and beta’ing for me without me even having to ask ;)

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In The World

Katsuki Yuuri is a puzzle, one Viktor is always happy to go back to, sliding long fingers over the pieces. Yet every time he thinks he’s worked it out, he realizes there’s no edge to the puzzle, no end, and everything rearranges.

“Yuuri,” he calls, “what’s this?”

The dark mess of hair and pajamas emerges from the bedroom, rubbing his eyes. “Origami.”

“Was there some kind of craft fair near our house yesterday?”

“I made it,” Yuuri mutters. An intricate dragon, out of soft blue tissue paper, and Viktor’s fiance made it. “I needed something to do with my hands while I waited for the dashi to simmer.” For Yuuri, that’s the end of the discussion. No further explanation, just another piece of Yuuri’s history plucked mysteriously from the void. 

Yuuri can juggle. He can play piano. If his hands are steady and he’s given the right pen, he thoughtlessly sketches out calligraphy. When he sings to himself while Viktor soaps his back in the shower, he drifts between styles: Broadway showtunes, operatic Italian, Japanese lullabies. Knitting. Jump-rope. Shadow puppetry, when they’re feeling foolish under the covers of their king bed and waiting until they’re ready to… 

Viktor thinks he wouldn’t be surprised if Yuuri was capable of magic– but then Viktor would be lying to himself, because he was surprised when Yuuri pulled quarters from out of thin air, made Viktor’s ring disappear for a few moments from beneath a cup.

What can he not do?” Yurio hisses, half delighted and half serious, when he bites into homemade cake. Viktor wants to tell him he doesn’t know the half of it– he’s never played darts or cards with Yuuri, unlike poor Viktor Nikiforov. “How. How is it possible.”

“Darling,” Viktor probes, when he finds Yuuri spread over their living room floor one evening, whittling away at wood while sitting in his splits. “How do you… how do you know how to do all these things?”

“What? Oh, this?” Yuuri says, gesturing with his knife and carving that has only started to resemble Makkachin. “It’s silly.” Viktor wants to strangle him, quiet the easy dismissal– preferably with his lips. It’s not silly. You’re brilliant. “We got a lot of different people, coming through the onsen. Sometimes, if the room wasn’t ready yet or they asked for company, I sat with them. I didn’t like…” he pauses, bites at his lip, and scrapes off a shred of wood. “Talking is difficult? I’m not entertaining, that way. But everyone likes teaching, so I picked up a few things.”

A few. Their apartment is a shrine to Yuuri’s many accomplishments, both world-record-holding and minute. Origami and sketches and trophy cases, gleaming. Viktor is the religion’s most ardent follower.

“We’re going to have so much fun when we retire,” he realizes.

“Hmm?” Is Yuuri’s only reply. Makkachin’s tail is emerging beneath his hands. “Also, do you want a massage later, Vitya?” He doesn’t even have to ask. Viktor pads over, sits behind him and wraps arms around his fiance’s steady waist.

“Do you know what I want to be the best at,” he hums into Yuuri’s neck.

“You’re already the best at skating,” Yuuri states bluntly. Nipping at his neck, Viktor wordlessly scolds the current world record holder. Yuuri laughs, the steady strokes of his whittling knife faltering as he twists to catch Viktor’s lips. “What, Vitya?”

“I want to be the best at loving you,” Viktor whispers, and it’s a skill he’ll spend his entire life perfecting.

Give me a break.

Hii! I know it’s been forever since I wrote something and I’m very sorry. There’s been so much on my mind lately and so many things that made me feel overwhelmed and I just needed to sort it out. This is kind of very loosely based on ‘Love me or leave me’ by Little Mix because someone requested it. I hope you like it. I plan on writing a second part.xxx

“Well, maybe I don’t fucking care anymore!”
It seemed like his booming voice made the whole house vibrate. It seemed like it cut right through Y/N. His words felt like he took a knife and rammed it into her heart and to top it all off he twisted it slowly so the pain had time to spread.
These last weeks felt like nothing but pain for her. He was never home and even when he was he somehow wasn’t. She let him in and he pushed her away. He pushed her so far away she couldn’t feel him anymore.
“Why are you still here then!?”
She had had enough. If he didn’t care anymore he could walk out the door and never come back.
Harry scoffed, turned around and walked up the stairs. When he slammed the bedroom door shut Y/N could feel the last bit of connection between them slipping away completely.
It’s never been this harsh. They slammed doors and yelled hurtful things before but it’s never been like this. Somehow this felt final.
She didn’t know how it happened, how everything between them began to crumble. But it did.
She didn’t feel his loving touch in at least three months. She didn’t hear his loving words in at least three months.
They fought almost every day and when they didn’t fight they didn’t talk to each other at all. Mornings were spent alone and cold, both waking up at their own times without a good morning kiss or a cuddle or anything at all. Nights were even worse. They went to sleep in the same bed but facing away from each other. They never solved their problems before bed. They broke their rule every single night and went to bed angry.
And even though right now Y/N might think it would be better if their paths would part she also knew she wouldn’t recover from it. Harry was the love of her life. She knew she could never be happy without him.
And so she broke down. Ugly sobs and fat tears. The whole weight of the last few months finally got too much and she couldn’t take it anymore. She was sure she’s never cried this much in her entire life. She was sure she never felt so hurt but numb at the same time before.
She didn’t know what the hell went wrong. What she did to push him away. What she did that made him stop loving her.
He doesn’t love you anymore.
Those were the words that constantly replayed in her head, after every fight.
He hates me.
She couldn’t find another explanation. That was the only reason she could think of as to why he wasn’t interested in fixing things between them.

When she met him she was sure he was the most wonderful person she’s ever met. He looked at her as if she was the most important thing on earth. He cooked the most delicious dinner for her. He held doors for her. He made her laugh and feel appreciated.
When she really got to know him she was knocked off her feet. He was the most gentle and loving man she could have ever imagined. He was there for her. He was the place she ran to when the world overwhelmed her. He was her happy place. Her home.
When things got a bit rough they stuck together. They were a team. They faced everything together and fought through it.
Y/N was the happiest girl ever. She thought she found her forever. Her happily ever after.
Until the perfect relationship began to change into great, then good, then normal and then…
Into whatever they had now.
She couldn’t take it anymore. And the worst thing was that there was no way out of this hell. They can’t go back to where they’ve once been. And parting ways? No fucking way could she survive without him.

It was three hours and twenty tissues later when Harry finally exited the bedroom and came down the stairs. Y/N was standing in front of the big living room window which had a view over what seemed like half of London. Her back was turned to Harry, her hair messy and her frame slightly shaking.
She knew that whatever would come now would change everything. She knew that they reached a point were something had to happen. Anything.
Harry took a deep breath and took the last few step towards her. Y/N closed her eyes when she felt his warmth. She hadn’t felt it in so long.
When he reached his hand out thread his fingers through hers she flinched. Harry could feel his heart breaking at her reaction to his touch. He closed the gap between them and pressed his chest flush against her back. That’s when Y/N started to cry again. Her whole body shook with the force of her tears and the whimpers and sobs seemed to get louder with every passing second.
“Shhh.” Harry tried to calm her and finally wrapped his arms around her from behind.
He nuzzled his face into her neck where she always smelled so good and that’s when he realized how long he hasn’t done that.
Y/N moved her arms so she could intertwine both her hands with his. She didn’t remember the last time she held his hand. She used to love his hands so much, always playing with his fingers and kissing his knuckles.
Harry kept pressing tiny kisses to her shoulder and squeezed her tighter to him every time a whimper left her lips.
They stood like that for at least ten minutes before Y/N turned around in his arms and hugged him again. He wrapped his arms around her shoulders, his hands stroking softly over her back while her hands were fisting his shirt. She couldn’t get close enough. She needed him closer. Her hands wandered down underneath his shirt to touch his skin. Harry shuddered when her cold hands touched his skin but he knew she needed this. She hasn’t felt his skin in forever. It almost felt foreign.

When they finally pulled away from each other both of them were scared to let go. This couldn’t be it. They needed each other.
“We have to talk, Harry.” she whispered and pressed her forehead against his.
“I know, my love.”
My love. Was she still his love?
She thought he hated her.
They sat down at the kitchen table across from each other. Both of them couldn’t be fast enough to reach out for each other again and when their hands bumped against each other they both laughed softly. For the first time in months.
None of them wanted to be the first to say anything. Until Harry finally couldn’t take the silence anymore.
“I didn’t mean anything that I said earlier. Or… in the last few weeks. God, what is happening with us?”
“I don’t know, Harry. But it can’t keep going like this. I can’t take it anymore.”
“Me neither, love. I know I didn’t show how much it was affecting me but I want you to know that I feel just as broken as you do.”
Broken. Is that what they’ve become?
“I… I thought you hated me. During all these times you pulled away or turned your back towards me, I thought you hated me.”
Harry’s free hand reached out to hers so he could clasp her hand in both of his.
“I never ever hated you. Not for a second. And I never will.”
Y/N felt like a huge weight was lifted from her shoulders and she felt like she could breath again.
“I love you so much, darling.” Harry whimpered.
Her head snapped up so she could look at him and when she saw tears running down his cheek she reached over the table to wipe them away.
“I love you too, Harry. So much.”
Harry removed her hand from his face and pressed gentle kiss to ever knuckle.
“What are we going to do, love? I want to fix this. I want to go back to being the happiest couple ever. I want to go back to being happy with each other.”
“Me too, Harry. God, I’d do everything to get back to what we once had.”
They stared into each other’s eyes until Y/N cleared her throat and diverted her eyes to the table.
“I-I think we need a break.”
Harry’s whole world stopped in that moment. His mouth fell open and his brows furrowed. He pulled his hands from hers and a breathless ‘no’ left his lips.
“No.” He repeated after a moment.
“No way.”
“Harry, listen. I-”
“No!” he shouted.
Y/N flinched and her ears began to ring like every time he raised his voice at her. Her eyes closed and tears began to dribble down her cheeks.
“Do you think I’m stupid? I know exactly what’s going to happen when we do that. You’re going to realize just how unhappy I make you and that you are so sick and tired of me and you’ll never come back. Or you’ll find someone else who makes you laugh more than I ever did. God, I’m going to be gone for two weeks for promo. Is that not enough distance and space for you?!“
“Harry, I need time okay? I need time to take care of myself. I need time for sorting things out. I need time so that this all can work again and if you’re honest, you need it too.”
He laughed humorlessly and crossed his arms over his chest.
“You will have that time when I’m gone.”
“I-I don’t think two weeks are going to be enough.”
His eyes caught hers and she swore she’s never seen him look at her like that. So sad but angry at the same time.
“L-Longer?”
“Two weeks are nothing, Harry.”
“There’s been times when you couldn’t go a single day without me. There’s been times where two weeks without each other seemed like the end of the world.”
She closed her eyes and tried to control the tears which constantly blurred her sight.
“I don’t think we can sort anything out in two weeks.”
“I don’t think we can sort anything out when we’re away from each other.”
“Harry, please.”
He closed his eyes briefly and sighed.
“How long?”
“T-Two months?”
“No fucking way!”
This time it was Y/N’s turn to sigh.
“Harry, I-”
“One month. And not a single day longer.”
She caught his eyes for a moment before she nodded.
“Alright.”
They sat in silence for several minutes, both didn’t know what to say.
“I-I thought I’d stay in a hotel for the two weeks before you’re gone and then I’ll come back.”
“No.”
“Harry,-”
“No. Please, I-… I want to know you’re safe. You’ll stay here and I’ll stay with Gemma.”
“If that’s okay with you.”
“No, it’s actually not.”
She looked at him with the saddest eyes he ever saw and he shook his head and and sighed.
“I’m gonna go pack some stuff and then you won’t have to deal with me anymore.”
“Harry, I did not suggest a break because I want to get away from you as quickly as possible. I want to fix this. And I feel like some distance is the only way to sort things out. Or at least make the first step.”
He didn’t say anything but just left the kitchen and went upstairs to pack a few things. For some reason Y/N couldn’t help but feel guilty. Of course she knew he wouldn’t be happy with taking a break, she wasn’t either. But she hoped he could at least understand where she came from.

When he came down the stairs half an hour later with two big duffle bags Y/N almost felt like crying again. She watched him, how he placed them beside the front door, wiped his tears away, took a deep breath and turned around to make his way to the kitchen so he could say goodbye but she was already standing in the foyer. They stared at each other for a few moments before Harry cleared his throat and removed a greasy strand of hair from his face.
“I’ll go now, I guess.”
“Yeah.” Y/N nodded and sniffled.
He looked at her for another few seconds before he let out a frustrated sigh.
“Can I at least get a hug?”
He saw the surprise on her face but she nodded anyway and took the last few steps towards him. She slung her arms tightly around his neck and pressed her body tightly to his and Harry wrapped his arms around her waist and squeezed her to his chest. He pressed kisses to her shoulder and neck and stroked over her back in gentle patterns.
When they pulled away a bit Y/N reached up to cup his cheeks and stroke over his skin.
“I love you. Nothing changed about that and nothing is going to change. I don’t want you to worry about me breaking up with you. I couldn’t imagine life without you.”
Harry pressed his forehead to hers and pulled her body even closer.
“Will you say goodbye when I’ll leave for New York? Don’t think I could leave without seeing you before.”
“I’ll think about it, okay?”
Harry sighed but nodded.
“C-Can I kiss you?” he asked her in a whisper.
She leaned in and connected her lips to his as an answer, his bottom lip slipping between hers. She kissed him four times before she pulled away a bit to look up at him again.
“I love you. You know that, right?”
She nodded and smiled softly at him.
“I love you, too.”
Harry gazed into her eyes for another few seconds before he pressed a few gentle kisses against her lips again. He pulled away from her then and took his duffle bags.
“I’ll let you know when I’ll leave for New York. You can call me or come over anytime you need, okay?”
“Okay. You can come over or call as well. Even if it’s the middle of the night.”
He nodded and opened the door.
“Take care, yeah?”
“You too, love.”
“I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
And just like that he left.

2

I’ve noticed that there’s a lot of hate towards Zen’s hair. I understand that it’s not meant to be taken seriously, because most of these posts are just jokes about wanting to cut his hair, but I just never really got it. I don’t know if I’m the only one, but even down to Zen’s hair I’ve always thought it had some sort of underlying meaning to it. I got over 300 reblogs from my previous post about loving Zen’s hair, so here’s a little theory for you guys regarding it.

Let’s go back to his childhood days first. He was verbally and physically (to an extent) abused by his parents who didn’t support his dream. There was a part where his mom was forcefully trying to cut his hair and he was protesting against it. This is where my theory begins.

We know that he did want to grow his hair out, it’s just that he wasn’t allowed to. After he ran away from home he could do whatever he wanted, so he decided to finally grow it out. Outside we see Zen as this independent, confident, hardworking guy who makes his own decisions. But is he really that guy?

Throughout his route we see that ultimately, he’s still seeking approval from his parents. I mean there’s even a visual novel where he finally decides to call them and make amends, so it shows that after all those years he still hasn’t forgotten about them. In his Valentine’s Day DLC After Ending, we see that he and MC were planning to tie the knot, but they chose to hold it off until his parents approved of their marriage.

I personally never liked rattails, I mean who really does anyway? It’s a pretty old-fashioned hairstyle. Zen, as he claims, is the moST bEAUtiFuL mAN iN tHe wOrLd. You’d think he would find a good hairstyle to match his perfect face. So why does he choose this hairstyle?

It could be that
1) He likes that hairstyle leave him alone
2) He’s, again, still seeking approval from his parents

From the front, it still looks like he has short hair (picture attached above). It’s what his parents would’ve wanted. He still isn’t confident enough to fully commit to the long hair he’s always wanted because it would go against his parents’ preference.

From the side and back, long hair (picture attached above). It’s his way of saying that he’s now independent and he can finally make his own decisions without being weighed down by his parents.

His hair symbolizes an internal conflict Zen has with himself. Does he want his parents’ approval more than he values his independence, or the other way round? Nevertheless, he stuck with that hairstyle. Because no matter what, Zen is just as insecure as the majority of us, if not even more.

He’s still looking for validation from his parents. He’s still traumatized from the verbal abuse he had gone through. He just wants them to be proud of him, and that’s why even when he goes against their wishes and runs away from home, he still keeps a ‘short’ hairstyle for them.

And I guess that’s why I can never really bring myself to hate his hair, because I feel like it sums him up as a person really well. I KNOW THIS IS PRETTY FAR-FETCHED, but you guys have to understand that I AM a literature student, so coming up with theories like this and linking this and that together is my absolute favourite thing to do. I hope I’ve explained myself clearly.

———-

REBLOG IF YOU ACTUALLY LOVE ZEN’S HAIR
1ST THEORY: ZEN LOVES YOU IN EVERY ROUTE
2ND THEORY: ZEN LOVES YOU IN EVERY ROUTE (+DIMENSIONS)

shit that happens in the italian BatB dub

- belle straight up sneering at the village by singing “it’s from the day me and my dad first arrived / that we thought / ‘this village is SO provincial’ ” like damn belle
- “how is your family?” “how is your wife?” is always translated in a cringe worthy way. So those two lines never really make any sense for the italians
- in “belle’ ppl sing "it seems like she has no virtue” LIKE CALM DOWN VILLAGERS roasting belle like… wow
- “lefou” is called “letont” which translates to “ledumb” and its honestly so cute
- “she is a girl who never has any friend / you are so alone mademoiselle” aka villagers roasting belle again
- ALL OF “GASTON”
- ITALIAN LEFOU IS SO MUCH SWEETER YOU CANT UNDERSTAND
- lefou straight up declares that gaston is “his hero”, “the man he cares the most about in the world” and “the perfect man”
- “so im roughly the size of a barge” in italian becomes “and i will lift even tWO OF YOU IF I WANNA”
- lumiere cant stop singing in fuckin french during “be our guest”
- like he keeps singing in french
- stop it lumiere
- how are the kids supposed to sing along lumiere
- cogsworth is called “tokins” because it’s easier to pronounce + it resembles the tick tock of clocks
- “be our guest” is called “do stay with us” …. they are basically begging her to stay because they …. are lonely….. dont touch me
- the amount of times the villagers shout “it will die” in 'the mob song’ is alarming. I was scared honestly

Whipped...Boyfriend?? (Pt.5)

I want to take the time to thank my lovely @harryimaginedstories for nudging me in the right direction with this one. I was a bit conflicted in terms of which direction I wanted to take it, but she was able to settle my doubts. Thank you, love!

Without further ado…




It was impossible not to be so entranced by such a beautiful boy. A beautiful man. A wonderful human being. A decent human being, who taught the world how to be kind, even if they didn’t realize they were learning. He loves people the way they deserve to be loved, making sure to let them know it was okay. It was okay to be loved and to fall in love, that’s what we live for after all. But this boy lives for so much more. This man lives to make others happy, because that’s where he finds his own.

He’s a breath of relief, to see such maturity in a young person; it leaves others in true awe. The way he presents himself, with such confidence that could make you shrink into yourself, feel small. But he has the ability to pull you right out of that state of mind. He’ll make you feel like you’re the most important person in the world. He’s kind and sensitive and all that a man should be.

It was impossible not to notice him. It was impossible not to get caught up.

And it was impossible not to fall in love.

***

He was by no means perfect though. He had a temper. He had a tendency to disregard certain things, even though he didn’t mean to. He could be the life of the party one minute, and a great introvert the next, keeping to himself in an intriguing way. He was intimidating, but he had that aura. He would make you feel like you needed to be his friend, like you needed to know him and be a part of his extraordinary life.

He had spots and blemishes on his face, but make up covered that up well. When he was particularly tired, the circles under his eyes added to that imperfection. He had a bit of a lazy eye, but you couldn’t really tell unless you were dead on staring, and even then you would most likely get lost in the icy green of them, specs of gold.

***

But they never saw him like Y/N did. They never lay next to him like she did. They never felt the warmth of his skin like she did.

They never got to experience him in the morning like she did. She took notice to it all.

How his hair was lighter in the sun. A golden brown, or maybe blonde, that had her fingers running through the soft strands with little to no notice that she was doing it. His eyes, bright and excited, crinkles on the corners even though it was seven in the morning and all Y/N wanted to do was go back to sleep, but Harry was a morning person, and plenty times she failed to lull him back to sleep after the sun rose.

The dip on his cheek prominently deepened with every laugh shared, every joke told, every happy moment lived.

His lips, just like in the photos, and how the world sees them. Pink, and enticing. The way that he spoke, the way that his lips moved and pursed around every word, it was hard not to notice.

They never felt those lips like she did. They touched her hands, her fingers, her neck. Her ears, her hair, her forehead. Her temples, her eyes, her cheeks, her nose. Anywhere but where she wanted to have them for the amount of time they were best friends. Until finally, on that glorious night, they touched her lips. After that, she experienced the gentleness of them when he’d get home from work and lay a kiss on her waiting lips. She experienced how rough they could be, pressed tight against her own after long days apart. She experienced them on cold days, or nights. And never minded when they were chapped.

They were cold, they were warm. They were hers.

He was mesmerizing.

***

And they never saw him fall like she did.

Takes a grand deal to make a great man fall, but it takes even more to lift him back up.

Countless times he’d safely look to her to make his days better, until he realized he didn’t deserve her. Not after what he did.

***

He was superman. He was untouchable, indestructible. But only to the public.

Behind closed doors. Where everything happens.

Her touch couldn’t help him that night.

Her begging and pleading couldn’t save him.

Her love could not save them.

***

What did she do?

What did she not do?

Little did she know, it’s what he had done.




It honestly can’t be any more embarrassing. She should’ve let Harry accompany her, hell; she should’ve shot him a text, or called him while she was still in the loo. And though more often than not she’s able to handle herself, she should’ve really just trusted her gut and asked Harry to meet her outside.

It’s not as bad as it could be though, and in all honesty it might be her fault. But the dress just seems too expensive and she can’t believe she ruined it. She’s almost certain she would have burst out in tears if the woman behind the bar hadn’t gone around to help her dry up, but never the less the stain is still prominent, and she’s wishing and hoping that it’ll be an easy fix when she takes it to the cleaner once they get back home.

How was she going to explain what happened. So you see, I sort of kind of maybe definitely stumbled a bit because you know, alcohol, and maybe sort of definitely bumped into that lady over there and completely drenched myself in red wine.

“Harry.”

His eyes went wide before he’d even taken a proper look at her.

“I’m sorry.” The whisper came as a shock.

She was beginning to get teary eyed because again, she cannot imagine how much this dress must’ve cost Harry.

His sigh of relief goes unnoticed, and in two long strides he’s stood in front of her.

“Wha’ ‘appened, love.”

At this moment, he really seems to have forgotten about the problem at hand, and only hopes Y/N won’t ask who he’d been talking to.

“I’m sorry. It all happened so fast and-” the words get caught in her throat.

He takes a look at the wine stained fabric, a thumb rubbing over the damp spot as if it would help clean it any.

“No, kitt'en. S'fine. Nothin’ t’ fret over.”

She wipes a stray tear from her cheek with a knuckle, a single sob huffing out.

Harry kisses the top of her hair line, a chuckle lightening the tension he’s sure she must be feeling.

“S'not funny. Aren’t you upset?” She looks up at him dolefully, “I ruined it, H.” She pinches the fabric in between her fingers, pulling at it just a tad to emphasize the mess.

But Harry can’t help but smile, “s'okay, love. I’ll buy ye’ another one. I’ll buy ye’ ten if ye’d like. S'no problem.”

He smiles wider, in attempt to reassure her that it’s not a big deal, he’s not mad. And only when he feels her relax does he shrug off his jacket, slipping each arm out before reaching behind her and settling it over her own shoulders.

“Now c'mon,” he grips the lapel between his fingers and gently pulls her closer, pecking her pout, “let’s get ye’ t'the hotel.”

***

A shower is very much what Y/N needed. The alcohol in her system seems to have evaporated along with the headache that was beginning to creep up. The noise outside has settled, allowing her to sit in bed in peace and quiet, the only sound being that of running water as Harry took his own shower.

“Have any of tha’ body wash ye’ use, pet?” It’s just like Harry to step into the shower unprepared.

“Running low, gonna have to use your own, babe.”

She wasn’t really, she always makes sure to pack more than needed when they go on trips. But she likes how Harry smells, and if denying him her own scent meant she’d be able to cuddle up to fresh, sometimes minty smelling, Harry, then so be it. He can scold her all he wants once he comes out and finds that she does in fact have plenty of her own body wash.

“Can ye’ han’ me a towel?”

Of course.

Y/N thinks he does this stuff on purpose sometimes. Whether it be 'can ye’ hand me m'towel, love’ or 'left m'loofa on the far end of the counter’, for some reason or another he always seems to forget something at shower time. Sometimes he even lures her into the bathroom with the smell of whatever bath bomb he feels like indulging in. And she’s not completely dull-witted either, nor a woman with no needs. So even though she huffs because 'Harry, really? Next time I’ll let you come out for it yourself. Teach ya a lesson and learn once you slip and fall on your ass,’ she can’t deny she hasn’t fantasied.

And she must admit she does get that tight knot just below her belly button every time she slips into the bathroom and catches a glimpse of his silhouette behind the curtain. Or a tingle, that will have her thighs clenching at the sight of him in the tub, bubbles long gone, bare ass on display. And he’ll tilt his head up and pout his lips slightly, silently asking for a kiss after she’s handed him the bath bar he oh so conveniently left on the bathroom counter. But he’d never turn over, because despite his own needs, he didn’t really know how she would react, never even tried.

“'Lo?” She’s brought out from the lusting thoughts, jolting in place before scurrying over to the room’s dresser and pulling out a white cotton towel, aware that the water’s been turned off.

“Here.” It’s cute, how she’s peeked the door open just a bit, slipping her hand in and waving the material without once looking into the room.

“Ye’ can come in, love.” Harry chuckles, body hidden behind the curtain.

“Should really stop forgetting the towel.” But he can’t help it, he always thought if it got her mind wondering, maybe it’d help ease her along. But that was then, before he’d gone and had sex with somebody that wasn’t her. Now, all he wants is to find the appropriate time to tell her.

“G'na make a note of tha’.”

Any other time she’d be quick to rush out, but right now. Right now she’s looking at him in a way he doesn’t think she’s ever looked at him. Eyes lingering, sizing what little of him she can see through the shower curtain. He notices how her bottom lips drawls out from between her teeth. And though he begins to feel himself growing, he can’t help the guilt washing over him all over again. So he breaks eye contact, and slides the curtain closed.

***

Why it took Harry a good ten minutes to finally come out of the bathroom, Y/N’s got no clue. Surely it couldn’t have taken more than three minutes to wash his teeth. When he does finally come out, he doesn’t make eye contact, instead she watches as he walks around the room from where she sits on the bed against the headboard, collecting every piece of clothing he wore tonight and hanging it appropriately on hangers.

She watches how the muscles on his back flex when he moves his arms. She watches the swallows high on his chest move to the way he breathes. She smiles at the way the damp strands stick to his forehead before he slides his fingers through and back to remove them from his eyes. She admires the stern look on his face as he fumbles to button his suit jacket, lifting it up to inspect it before hanging it inside the armoire.

Her eyes trace over his tense jaw, the dimly lit room allowing her to see the chiseled structure of his face. She bites the inside of her lip, eyes following the drops of water trailing from the tips of his hair, to the side of his face, to his collarbones, past his chest hair and down his abs before being absorbed into the white material. Her eyes linger lower, noticing how the towel hangs dangerously low on his waist, enough that she can see his happy trail.

A hand moves to settle between her thighs, already feeling the heat that’s worked up.

What sends her over the edge is the evident outline of his bulge, and when he turns sideways, the noticeable tent-like bump has her toes curling and thighs pressing closer against her hand.

“Harry.” She doesn’t mean for it to come out sultry, but it does and it has Harry giving her his full attention.

She’s on her knees now, walking on her knees to the edge of the bed where he’s standing at.

He can feel his breath hitch at the touch, her fingertips ghosting over the 17BLACK tattoo down to the butterfly on his tummy before she’s rubbing her thumb over the Might as well by his v-line.

Before he knows it, he’s exhaling a low moan into her mouth at the feeling of her fingertips trailing down his happy trail. They stop at the top of the cottony fabric. He forces his eyes shut when the pads of her fingers continue trailing down until her palm is against his growing erection and he’s bucking his hips forward.

He feels her smile against his lips. And it’s then that she starts a slow up and down motion, her hand working on his length.

Harry grips at either side of her hip, pressing the tip of his tongue against her slightly parted lips, and when she opens further, his tongue slips in to work against hers.

It’s been a while since he’s had a hand other than his own touching his cock, and although he’s denied of full pleasure because of the thick material around his waist, it’s better than him having to tug one out in the confines of a bathroom. 

The attention her hand is giving his cock is enough to have him in a daze. But he can feel her uneasiness still, not doing much other rather running her palm over his member, so he sets a hand over her own, squeezing it to cup over his cock, the knot in his lower stomach tightening as he detaches his lips from hers and throws his head back in pleasure.

His breathing has become jagged, eyebrows knitted in hopes to restrain the throbbing of his cock.

He feels her replace her hand with his own, and Harry can do nothing but lightly squeeze at the head.

She kisses from his shoulder, to the protruding vein on the side of his neck, and back down to the crook of it, hands trailing up to his chest. When she bites at the skin, the hand that was soothing the ache on his cock goes to her hair, and suddenly his eyes meet hers again.

“Need you.” It’s what she whispers as she presses herself closer, hips meeting his in an urge to feel him, her lips reattaching to his. This causes Harry’s hand to slip down to the curve of her bum where it meets the back of her thighs. And he’s pressing them firm against her bum, his own clenching in an attempt to press himself closer to her, wanting her to feel what she’s done to him.

She takes his body along with hers as she begins moving backwards onto the mattress until she’s completely laying down with Harry on top of her, holding his own weight with his forearms flat on the mattress. His hair, once too short, falls over the sides of his face, eyes downcast and nostrils flared.

He moves to hook a thumb inside her boy shorts, but doesn’t make any effort to slide them down. Instead, he holds it there.

Y/N starts to feel the pressing of his bulge against her mound, and her back arches when he grinds into her. The built up frustration is causing him to grip at her hip a tad too tight, but Y/N’s moan at the feeling only causes him to rut his hips harder.

Although Y/N might be a virgin, she’s not a complete saint. She’s spent countless times reading up on the pleasure that is sex. She’d often get off at the thought of Harry, hands gripping her bed sheets as she wrenched and moaned until she reached release. But she’s never been confident enough to take that big step. Not with Harry, not with anyone else she’s dated.

And she never thought it would feel this good.

Her legs hook around his waist, craving to have him closer, and he’s attaching his lips to her neck.

“Pet.” His whisper is mixture of frustration and pleasure.

All she can do is moan.

Soon enough, he’s pushing himself off of her.

Did she do something?

But he doesn’t say anything, moves to sit on the edge of the bed, trying his best to ignore the throbbing of his cock, well aware that he won’t be relishing in the pleasure of release. A hand runs through his hair before it settles on his lap. And then he’s letting out a sigh and bringing the heels of his hand to dig at his eyes.

“Everything okay, H?”

He’s waited so long for this. But he can’t. He won’t.

He needs to tell her, but where does he start.

He hears her yawn, and he can already imagine her kneeled behind him, hovering over his body.

But she doesn’t say anything, wraps her arms around his neck from and presses a kiss to the shell of his ear.

“Don’t have to, if you don’t want.”

But he does, he wants to. Just not like this.

He reaches behind to caress at her hair and presses his temple against her forehead.

“Not tonight, pet.”

She doesn’t say anything after that, so Harry stands up to walk to the dresser, grabbing a pair of briefs and making his way into the bathroom.

When he comes out, his Y/N is asleep, curled up in the middle of the bed, oblivious to the silent tears running down his cheeks.

He’s made up his mind. He’ll tell her tomorrow.

He stands at the side of the bed, looking her over, the guilt eating at him.

He manages to wedge himself in between her and the mattress without waking her, bringing her to lie against his chest, holding tight.

But the tears don’t stop.

At 4 in the morning he’s still awake, no sign that he’s growing tired. He’s trying to memorize all of her, his eyes and hands scanning and ghosting her sleeping figure.

She looks so pure. A sob racks his body, and when the next one threatens to shake him he inhales deep when he feels her stir against him.

How could he have done this to her.

After she buries her face in the crook of his neck, he closes his eyes tight, squeezing her to him one last time before letting sleep overcome him.

And though it’s a long shot, he just hopes they’ll be able get through this.

***

When Harry wakes up, it’s to an empty bed and a note on the side of mattress where Y/N laid the night before. He takes the hotel’s notepad in between his thumb and index finger.

Went out for breakfast with Lou. Giving you a Y/N free afternoon so you can hang out with the boys. Already packed for our flight tomorrow. See you later, babe!(:

Although he really wishes she would have woken him so they could eat together, Harry knows he’s got to sort his guilt out. He can’t let another day go by lying to her.

***

How did they end up here.

She knew it wasn’t gonna be anything good. From her experience, nothing good ever follows 'we need to talk.’

But she could have never imagined this. Never in a million years could she have thought those words would be coming out of Harry’s mouth.

She’s in complete shock, hands trembling and heart pounding, pounding hard against her chest and she swears she can hear it echoing in the room.

“You-” She can’t say it, she can’t repeat it, but she knows there’s no way around this.

“You slept with someone else.” She’s making sure she heard him right. She wants to believe she heard wrong, but his following words further prove that’s not the case.

“I’d had too much t'drink. I-I didn’t know wha’ I was doin’. I can’t remember anythin’. All I know s'I woke up next to h-”

“Stop.” Every word he says, hang in the air, floating in her head because no, she refuses to believe her Harry could have done this to her.

He had been stood frozen in the middle of the room after insisting she sit down, and though she was reluctant and wary, she had, the soft sofa failing to ease the growing tension.

“Y/N.” His eyes are red, fighting against his sobs to explain to her, to try to get her to understand that had he been in his five senses, it wouldn’t have happened because he doesn’t have eyes for anyone else.

“Stop.” There’s nothing else she can say. She doesn’t want to hear about what, or how it happened. She doesn’t want details on the night Harry betrayed her trust.

Harry can see tear drops landing on her jeans, hands clasped together on her lap, making no effort to wipe at her eyes or her cheeks.

“It meant nothing and I-”

“Harry.” And the look on her face when she finally looks up at him, that look has him falling to his knees in front of her, reaching out to take her hands in his.

“Y/N, no.” His lips are quivering, the corners of them pulled down. “It meant nothin’. Ye’ can’t think fo’ a minute tha’ I wanted it. I love you. You know tha’.”

His heart breaks all the more when she bows her head back down and says nothing. She looks at their joined hands and gives his a squeeze.

“Tell me ye’ know tha’.” The crack of his voice tugs at her heart.

“M'sorry, love. M'so so sorry.”

Suddenly, it clicks in her head.

“No,” she whispers in sudden realization.

She pulls her hands away when she feels his lips rest on her knuckles.

“That day, that’s what it was. That’s why you were crying.” It’s as if it’s all come together. “You should have told me.”

“I wanted to. I wanted t'tell ye’,” he chokes on his words, “and it killed me to-”

“You’ve kept this from me this long.” It’s more like she’s saying it to herself, trying to wrap her head around how he could sleep next to her knowing what he had done.

“I wanted t'find the right time t'tell ye’. I didn’t mean for it t’-”

“Stop.”

She can feel his grip tighten on her thighs. She can’t do this. She can’t sit here and listen to his excuses.

“M'sorry for lettin’ it come this far. Pet, m'sorry. I wanted t'tell ye’. And then when I saw 'er last night-”

Is he serious? She was there? There’s a chance she might have had a conversation with the woman Harry slept with?

“Stop.” She really just wants him to stop.

“I was so scared. I didn’t know she was gonna be there. And I couldn’t have ye’ findin’ out like tha’. I couldn’t risk-”

She can’t take it. “Harry stop!” She didn’t want to yell, she’s never been one to yell. Their small tiffs never ended in yelling. But she knows this isn’t small, and she can’t be expected to keep calm.

He’s losing her, he feels it.

She brushes his hands off, pushing herself off the sofa and moving away from him to the door of the room.

“No,” he cries, tears welling up in his eyes, vision blurry, so he wipes at his them harshly with the back of his hand.

“Get out.” She’s opening the door, eyes fixated on the floor.

He sets his weight on the back of his heels for a moment, head in his hands. The only sound in the room being a mix of his ragged breathing and her sobs. He stays still, but only for a moment, until he hears her faintly whisper his name.

“Please, love-” he’s quick to get up, shoulders slumped as he cautiously moves to her, feet dragging.

“Out.” There’s no changing her mind.

She’s never felt so broken before, so betrayed.

And she doesn’t look at him, not even a glance even though she can feel his stare on her.

She listens as whis breathing evens, and lets him kiss the top of her hair before she’s shutting the door behind him.

Her world’s crashing around her, and all it took was one night with someone else. She wants the floor to swallow her whole. She wants this all to be a nightmare.

But it’s real. And it hurts.

What Ardyn did wrong... and why everything was wrong with Noctis’ fate

Ardyn is the most interesting character in FFXV, indeed. Mysterious man of no consequences. Despite his horrible actions, a lot of people being sympathetic to him, because Trash Jesus is very charismatic person with aura of tragic, misunderstood hero, who was punished by terrible Gods for nothing.

But people simply ignore a big elephant in the room.

Ardyn didn’t cure Starscourge. 

He didn’t fullfill God’s task, he absorbed Starscourge within himself, but didn’t destroy the plague properly. 

But why? Why didn’t he sacrifice himself like Noctis? Why did once selfless and kind man choose the path of Accursed?

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

I've just read about Tony feeling unwanted and man, it breaks my heart! Could you write something about Tony having enough? Like, he feels that Team Cap thinks they don't need him, they don't appreciate him and they never did. So he leaves, he doesn't stop being an Iron Man, but leaves Avengers. Maybe he has his own team with Rhodey and Spidey and whoever else. Maybe he helps Defenders from time to time. Maybe he works alone. (1)

But the point is, even if Avengers think that they don’t need him, they really do. Because he did so much for them all this time. Like, when SHIELD fell, he and his company invested them, repaired their equipment and made new one, took care of PR and media. And they never even knew, or just never cared, until he left. Now they have no one to replace him and to be as efficient as he was. They’re just too close to failing apart.(2)


I can and I most certainly will! All those angst-filled headcanons from yesterday didn’t just make me want to curl up under a ton of blankets to hide from the world, they also, they also reminded me how freaking bitter I still am. So yeah, hope you don’t mind, anon, but I thought your ask would be the perfect way to kick off bitter Sunday!

Because we’re talking about Tony Stark, guys. We’re talking about the man who build a suit of armour in a freaking cave. Who got kidnapped by the bad guys and blew his own way right back out. Yes, he’s hurt. Yes, he’s fucking heartbroken. Yes, most days the weight of his own mistakes and failings almost crushes him. Yes, being confronted with the team he was never allowed to belong to he lost is rubbing salt into the slashing wounds that still haven’t healed, bleed sluggishly from time to time.

But.

There’s a line he’s drawn into the sand a long time ago, back when he first became Iron Man, and it matters. He does what is expected of him. Shakes the returning Avengers’ hands. Smiles for the cameras. Is quoted stressing that he supports the UN’s decisions, that with the new and revised Accords in place, there’s no room for old grudges and vendettas. And he means it. What he doesn’t say though, is that there’s no room for old friendships and favours either.

Truth is, Earth needs as many heroes as possible. It needs them in once place, with stable communication channels, capable of working and strategising and organising together. The exiled Avengers are a rare resource they can’t afford to waste. There is also the fact that being trust back into the limelight limits them in a way working from the shadows doesn’t, forces a vague but still present sense of accountability on them that Tony may or may not take a great amount of pleasure in.

But here’s another, much more fortunate truth: they don’t need to be a team to save the world. It’s a truth that’s been hanging over them from the beginning, back when Iron Man wasn’t a part of the Avengers because he didn’t have to be for the plot to work. In retrospect, Tony can appreciate Fury’s actions for the well-played moves they were.

So he does what he would have done years ago, if not for sentimentalities and a misplaced sense of loyalty holding him back: he cuts the wire.

With the new accords has come a committee and a new governmental agency in charge of handling the nationally and internationally operating enhanced strike teams. Tony uses this development to his advantage, separates his business from the agency entirely, because really, a billionaire shouldn’t own parts of an organisation designed to keep him in check.

Tony signs the new agreements and as Iron Man he is to be deployed whenever necessary, but he is no longer part of any team. And he makes a point of proving that time and again.

When members of his ex-team are involved in a fight he wasn’t, he refuses any comment on the actions, they are none of his business after all, and really, shouldn’t you ask the people who were actually there? He doesn’t get involved in group press conferences unless there are more than just the ex-Avengers present because presenting a united front as enhanced humans is one thing, presenting a united front with them is another thing altogether. 

He doesn’t build weapons, suits and other improvements for anyone but himself and the people he deems worthy of his gifts either–those designs have always been too dangerous to be allowed into the hands of a government agency, and none of his former team mates make the cut onto the trusted list anymore. 

He doesn’t interact with them anyways, unless it’s on the comms during a fight or via a representative or his official email account (his private contact information is no longer available to them). All his employees knows better than to give them access to anything non-public without a properly scheduled meeting, and even Pepper doesn’t disagree with him on this one. She’s the one that usually shows up on these meetings anyways, and she doesn’t give them an inch, because there’s a reason Tony hired her in the first place.

And it might have started out as simple avoidance and being petty but you know what? Tony’s doing pretty damn well on his own. He doesn’t need the team, he’s always known that, but proving it to himself ends up feeling surprisingly good. Empowering. Freeing even. 

Because even though it feels like that in the very beginning, Tony isn’t actually alone. He’s got Pepper, with whom he’s slowly working out the post-failed-relationship-awkwardness, and Rhodey, who’s recovery is a slow, painful process but still a process, and loyal, steady Happy. He also has Peter, who’s too eager and reminds Tony too much of himself, but who doesn’t leave or get bored by Tony’s enthusiastic rants. He’s got Harely with whom he face-times at least once a week to science and chatter.

He’s got people who care about him and enjoy spending time with him, and the more time passes, the more Tony realises how not-okay his relationships with his former team have really been, how not-okay he’s been. And he still misses them, from time to time, but it’s the fleeting yearning for a missed opportunity, not the heartbreaking free fall into a bottomless darkness it used to be.

The point is, Tony is in a good place. Without the team that never wanted him. 

(And on days he still feels a little down, watching that Youtube clip of a tiny, three-year old girl in an Iron Man t-shirt throwing her ice cream at Steve Roger’s face with devastating accuracy, the one that cuts off right as the older brother is shown laughing so hard tears are streaming down his face and assuring his indignant little sister that yes, he’ll get her a new ice cream, he’s very proud of her standing up against bullies, is surprisingly cathartic.)

Famous and Streetwise

This story is based off of my last Instagram edit! Hope you guys like it! **********************************************

“Absolutely Ronnie…. no….yeah I’ll be there. I’m off of Main Street, my usual spot… I’ll try… okay… love you too…yep bye… bye… bye”

Betty Cooper shut her dated phone with a slightly exaggerated eye roll and a smile tugging at the corner of her lips. Veronica lodge was her absolute best friend and she would take a bullet for the dark haired heiress , but good lord, the girl could talk.

With practiced ease, Betty dropped her violin case to the floor, kicking open the lid and positioning the instrument in just the right place, with a wave towards her favorite homeless man Jet, Betty began playing.

She was talented, she knew that, it wasn’t that she was cocky it was just a fact. People had to listen to her when she was playing, she poured her heart into every tug of the strings, her passion was contagious judging by the amount of times she had made passerbys cry at the haunting sounds that flew from her violin.
Not to mention she made good money, her case was typically always stuffed and people often begged her to make cds that she could sell.

Today was a particularly beautiful day, the sun was shining and tourists were everywhere, almost everyone was stopping to watch her and it only urged her on, quick movements and tight fingers. She loved what she did, street performing was her passion and she wouldn’t change it for the world, she had never wanted to be famous, didn’t really care about the money it was all about the faces.

When a little boy would grab his mothers hand and tug her closer, his eyes wide in awe. When an older couple would slow dance to a particular song. When a young man would get down on one knee and propose to his girlfriend while she played softly in the background. That’s what mattered. However, the money didn’t hurt, she put aside every penny she made, in about a year she would have enough to open the music store she had been dreaming of since she was just a little girl.

Suddenly there was a stir, people were screaming and she was being shoved out of the way, her fingers gripping her violin as she stumbled backwards and into someone’s arms. When she opened her eyes, she was staring directly into stormy gray ones covered by thick black lashes.

“I…” the dark haired boy holding her stuttered, his grip on her waist tight as he looked so deep into her eyes she was almost certain he could see into her soul.

And then he was gone, an older man in a suit with a gun clipped to his waist was pulling him away along with two other boys.

Betty shook her head, her stomach still tight from their brief interaction.

Who was he?

*****

“Who was she?!” Jughead Jones groaned, pacing back an forth inside the studios tiny room.

Archie Andrews, lead vocalist and bass player couldn’t contain his laughter as he tuned his instrument
“Dude, it was just some random busker. Why does she have you all worked up?”

Reggie mantle Chose that moment to enter the room, his hands filled with snacks as he made his way to his keyboard.
“Because he’s in love. Duh” the muscular boy teased.

“I’m not in love.. it’s just.. you heard her, have you ever heard anything like that in your life? It was amazing.. and then I don’t know.. her eyes man. She was the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen. I can’t get her out of my head. I just keep hearing her play.” Jughead flopped down onto the studio couch and sighed.

Jughead, Archie, and Reggie made up one of the most popular bands of their generation
“The Serpents.” They had toured the world and won Grammys, they never stopped and Jughead took the band more serious than anyone, he was rich now, he could have anything he wanted, an abrupt change from his highschool years of being homeless and alone.

“There’s an easy solution to this.” Archie grinned reaching for Jugheads phone and snatching it.

“Hey!” The dark haired moody young man protested.

“Trust me” Archie rolled his eyes as Reggie laughed from beside him. “That’s perfect bro”

“What? What are you doing?”

Archie handed Jughead back the phone lazily

“You have over ten million followers. I know you creepily took her picture so I posted it. Someone has to know who she is.”

Jugheads eyes widened as he stared at the screen
“Hashtag find my muse?” He stated blandly as he took his place by his drumset.

“I bet it’ll be trending by lunch time.” Reggie answered over a mouth full of Twinkie.

Jughead just rolled his eyes as rehearsal started.

But if anyone noticed him constantly checking his phone… well no one mentioned it.

First Meeting With Them: EXO

TRIGGER WARNING


Xiumin:

Right at the first sight you could see the arrogance oozing out of him, the devilish smirk on his handsome, round face as he approached you so you could scan the horde of clothes his partner had chosen to buy. He had a girlfriend, someone he already dated, and yet here he was, outright flirting with you in the cockiest manner you had ever seen. It made you sick to the gut and wish you’ve never met him.


Suho:

When you first JunMyeon, you were fascinated and speechless at his ethereal beauty. He did not look human at all, with his perfect brows, perfect lips and spotless skin. Like a Fae, someone not of this world, someone you wanted to be with and someone who drew you in so much you thought it abnormal. He looked so good, so innocent and honest. and yet you could still see it- barely a small glimmer compared to his outer shine, but you knew right from your first glance at him, this man was hiding such darkness inside of himself that it would make him one of the most dangerous men you even met.


Lay:

Usually quiet and away from this planet, even between his group of alliances, he was the first to initiate a conversation with you, your secret charm somehow enchanting him in a wonderful bliss of colours and music where you danced and spoke. He wanted to know you, not caring over the fact that you seemingly already had a male at your side- that was not the problem, and easy to dispose of, anyway.


BaekHyun:

The first meeting with BaekHyun had been a memorable one, indeed, since the argument you two had attracted a crowd and it was a nasty battle of nastier words thrown at each other, which brought you two closer and closer and closer until you could feel his breath on your face as he glowered at you from where he stood, his chest huffing and puffing until a smile broke that wrath and he invited you for a dinner. From the sudden question you yelled `yes` and stormed off, however, the smirk he bore on his lips as you turned your back on him had not been one of an innocent man.


Chen:

Smart and cunning, your first meeting with this man would be like any other. He was not one to flaunt his background information and occupation with open arms to anyone who asked, so at first you thought he was a simple business man, seeing him in his spotless suit- though you knew something was wrong. Be it from his little smirk, or from the way his eyes nearly split into slits as he sat and stared at you.


ChanYeol:

His height being intimidating, your eyes had lowered the first time you saw him, knees wobbling in terror as your eyes glanced at his shoes, a spot of crispy red at the tip of them. You wanted to get away, but your instincts were too slow for that game of survival, since ChanYeol had been a professional in his line of work. He saw where your eyes darted and cursed under his breath, extending his hand onto your shoulder and leaning down to whisper into your ear to stop moving if you treasured your life.


D.O.:

He knew right from the moment he laid his owlish eyes on you that he wanted you. In what way, he didn’t figure out until the second meeting, and so he blamed it all on his arousal upon seeing you, on his sense of a hunt since you seemed like a decent prey. All that mattered was the fact that he wanted you, you, and only you. All for himself. And he would make sure that he got what he wanted not minding all human reasons.


Kai:

A small smirk upon his handsome face as you two met in the most cliche way possible- in some jam-packed bus where you had to press yourself into some corner, and he stood there, towering over you as you had felt, with his hands on each side of your head. You didn’t see his face, your back to him, but you certainly felt him, pressed snugly against you and his breath on your neck.


Sehun:

You didn’t actually know when your first meeting occurred since he had claimed tat he was in the street, window-shopping with his friends, when he saw you on that beautiful, sunny day. Everything escalated quickly from there, him seeking you out and terrorizing you with calls and messages, wanting to meet face to face and get to know you. You were stupid enough to agree to one meeting in hopes of stopping him from appearing everywhere where you were. And now you saw him day and night as he had you locked up in his little cell.

Our Kind of Love (Part 1/12)

By: ProMarvelFanGirl

Pairing: Steve x Plus Size!Reader

Summary:  You and Steve have a special kind of love.   One that many may not understand.  After all what would a super soldier who looked like that, want with a girl who looked like you?

A/n: Saw This post and was inspired!  If you would like to be tagged please let me know!


I want a goofy smile when I walk in the room kind of love.

You were a lucky girl, and everyone knew it.  You had the perfect guy.  You were the girl who had Steve Rogers.  You had met Steve at the veteran’s hospital where you were volunteering.  All the nurses immediately fawned over Steve each one trying to get the handsome super soldier’s attention.  He only had eyes for you though.  

While the rest of the girls were batting their eyelashes and tossing their hair, you were playing cards with a group of sergeants who fought in Vietnam.   Your laughter caught Steve’s attention and he found himself drawn to the woman who could have cared less that he was in the room.  To say the other girls were shocked when he asked to join your group, was an understatement.

Why the hell would Steve Rogers, a man who had the perfect super soldier body and handsome looks want anything to do with a woman who had more bumps and curves than any other woman in the whole hospital.  At least that is how you saw yourself.  You had wide hips and a tummy that was anything but flat, people would say her face is gorgeous, she would look amazing if she just lost some weight.  

None of that mattered to Steve.  All that mattered to him was the fact that you glanced up, gave him a smile, and turned your attention back to the three sergeants in front of you.  After prying himself away from the numerous women around him, he asked if he could join your game.  After two hours of cards, Steve had asked for your number and secured a date with you.

You were frankly in shock when he asked for your number.  Glancing at Charlie, your favorite sergeant, he smiled at you encouragingly and gave you a wink.  You gave Steve you number and a shy grin before telling the boys that you would see them next week and made your way home.  You had no idea that he would actually call you, but he did.

Keep reading

3

America knows him as the third-guy-from-the-left, South Korea likes to call him Jin, and the world once saw him as the ‘car door guy.’ But, to us, he will always be the eldest yet youngest, the guy with the motherly nature and a tongue abundant with dad jokes. For us, his imperfections will always remain perfect. He will take you by surprise yet give you the most welcoming smile. We love this humble, ambitious and confident man, dearly.
Kim Seokjin❤

BTS as Mafia Members...

Originally posted by wonhosprotein

But imagine Kookie, the maknae, being the leader instead of big bad Joonie. He would be the most experienced in the drug & gang world cause he grew up with all of it surrounding him. He would be an expert fighter, perfect negotiator, extremely manipulative & has a facade as the levelheaded type, but in actuality, he’s filled with rage literally every second of every day. 

Then you have the rest of the boys, Joonie would be the second-in-command. Kook’s right-hand man for everything. He’s wise, caring, & when he needs to be, extremely violent and crude. He cares for the members like they’re his family & he’s always there for every single one of them. Every decision that Kook decides is always run by Namjoon to see if it’s the right thing to do or if there’s a better way to do it.

Yoongi would be the info-breaker. Always tracking current targets that need to be dead, guiding the boys through their latest haste, breaking down firewalls, hacking into security systems, & so much more. He’s the eyes in the sky & everywhere else. He knows anything & everything about anyone or anything. 

Taehyung would be the drug lord. He’s out & about doing every deal that bangtan is able to score. He’s the main source of their income and if he’s not doing his “professional work” then he’s probably in the back room getting high, getting completely fuck drunk or snorting cocaine off of some poor girl’s thighs.

Jimin is the weapon specialist. For some odd reason, he knows everything there is to know about weapons. It’s slightly uncomfortable how he knows all the little quirks and tips to guns, swords, machetes, everything. He’s witty, strong, & if you want a specific weapon… Jimin’s defiantly the guy to go to. It doesn’t matter if it’s something as exotic as a flamethrower or basic like a pistol. Jimin will, without a doubt, have it.

Jinnie is the getaway guy as well as the doc. He’s the man waiting in the car with a walkie-talkie so he can hear the other members during their haste. He’s analytical & knows the way around the streets like the back of his palm. He’s always ready & on edge cause, the entire plan really depends on him. If he doesn’t cooperate then everything falls apart. He’s the heart of the system, without Jin… nothing works properly but he’s also the man that stitches their wounds, pulls out the bullets from their flesh, heals their bruises, and cleans their cuts.

Hoseok is the trainer. He’s strong and all bronze. He trains anyone that enters their little gang into being the best fighter they can possibly be. He’s very violent & by far the greatest fighter there is (excluding Kook, of course) but above all things… Hoseok’s also the lover boy. Flirty, cunning & there’s never a time where he isn’t wearing that infamous smirk that drives people crazy. He flirts his way through anything & if bangtan needs to persuade a specific person, Hoseok is the guy to go to. Male or female, it makes no difference. His task is to get someone so sexually frustrated that they give in to him and let their guard down for just enough time to let him through.

Want more Bangtan? here’s my masterlist!

credit;; @mint-kook‘s “note #1″ thing I wanted to share my own thoughts on the same subject so… thanks to them ;))

Originally posted by happyemofreak

To Me, You Are Perfect

Pairing: Chris Evans x Reader
Rating: Unrated
Summary: Reader is stressed because of her work and especially her ruthless boss and Chris comes in to cheer her up.
Word Count: 941
Genre: Fluff!
Warnings: swearing, mentions of work overload, stressed Reader and mentions of alcohol, but it’s pure fluff with our favorite dork.
Author’s Note: I’ve written this as friendship, but you it can be read as a romance.
I’m always grateful for @punkrockhippiefromthefourties’ help. Because this fic wouldn’t be exactly like this if it wasn’t for her.

Originally posted by elsasexual

As you finally could see the familiar shape of your Bostonian building, you walked faster toward home, where you would finally let go of your frustration. You stepped inside the apartment you’d rented in the city and let down your jacket and your bag on the floor. You kicked off your shoes and went to the bathroom where you cleansed your skin nervously.

You had quite a lovely day at work until one man made you angrier than ever. Your boss. He had been on your case for the last six weeks, micromanaging almost to the point where your workload became unmanageable. You faced unreasonable deadlines and you felt as though you got set up for failure. As a result, a light stress overtook your mind and you even considered leaving your job behind you.

This past week had been very hard on you and your co-workers, so it was naturally that you put on your fluffiest pajamas, not bothering to clean up after you. You went to relax on the couch, having no motivation or energy to even try to do anything fun with your friends having dinner in town. You opted for a cozy evening, wanting to stay home and forget everything about these last days.

You watched a stupid and pointless show on the television, chewing on some snacks when your phone buzzed next to your thigh. You reached blindly for the device and smiled briefly when you eventually saw the name and the photo on the screen.

Keep reading

Not Nothing - Peter Parker

summary : the reader is being bullied at school for being plus size, and when her friend and crush Peter Parker finds out, he goes out of his way to make her feel special. To make sure that she knows she’s not nothing.


word count : 2.2k+


warnings : bullying, self-hatred, sad!reader, angst, sad!Peter, self-doubt, puking, fluff, Peter being the nicest person on the face of the planet.

pairing / characters : peter parker x plus size!reader, MJ, Ned, Flash,

prompt : “ Hi! I was wondering if you had time to add a Peter Parker request to your list. I’ve got two ideas but you can chose either one. One idea that based on the song "When He Sees Me” from waitress and maybe the reader was talking to MJ and the other idea is one where the reader is getting bullied for being plus size and they kinda retreat into themselves and ignore everyone and then Peter does some fluff to make them feel better. Honestly I would be happy with either one but only if you have time" - anon

A/N : so I decided to go with the second idea, because I had a better thought process with it? Idk, just enjoy!

p.s. if you can not handle what is written I suggest not reading this. Just a heads up.

p.p.s. I do not suggest ANY of you ever thinking that you are not worth it, or that you need to make yourself sick to look ‘pretty’. You are all beautiful in your own ways, and you should own them, not throw them away. <3

master list | requests | prompt list

Originally posted by tomhollanderr

Keep reading

Got7 Reaction to their Girlfriend Feeling Insecure.

JB:

Jaebum would notice they way you looked in the mirror with a discontented look on your face. Your hands would occasionally shift to the hem of your shirt-pulling it down as far as you could. There were a billion things he thought of to say to you in that moment, but he bit his tongue in order to make sure he didn’t make you too uncomfortable. He simply moved in between you and the mirror, hands firmly crossed against his chest and gave you a slight smile before stating: “You look beautiful, Jagi.”

Mark:

Upon seeing you super-up-close to the mirror examining your face, he wondered why you were paying such close attention to a few blemishes. Mark would always be super patient with you and try to distract you from looking in the mirror at all of the “flaws” you were trying to cover up. He silently came up from behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist while placing his head on your shoulder, looking into the mirror with you. There was a warming smile plastered on his face, which silently proclaimed his admiration for you.

Jackson:

Jackson wouldn’t give you time to explain yourself when he saw you staring at your reflection in the mirror constantly fixing, or even changing your outfit. He could tell your confidence was low, and he understood. He would immediately engulf you in a hug and sway you back and fourth repeating words of encouragement over and over again, which really showed how much he cared for you.

Jinyoung:

While Jinyoung certainly didn’t want you feeling this way about yourself, he would feel like he wouldn’t know what exactly to say and would rely on his actions rather than words, necessarily. So when he catches you staring at your legs and tugging your skirt down little-by-little, he would reassuringly move your hands away from the hem of your skirt to around his neck. While in your embrace he would whisper “I love you,” softly before taking one of your hands and leading you away from the dreaded mirror.

Youngjae:

This little fluff-ball would do anything and everything in order to make sure you know how much he loved and appreciated you. He would try and get your spirits up by singing to you (who could resist his voice?), or showering you in compliments. When you would start to look down upon yourself and talk about that embarrassing birth mark you hated, he would say things like: “No, Jagi, it’s beautiful!” or “You wouldn’t be you without it, I love it!” His ever-flowing energy would be enough to transform your bad mood into a good one.

BamBam:

He knew that your freckles had bothered you ever since you could remember. Every once in a while he would hear a voice from the bathroom stating: “Bam, I think I found a new freckle!” He would walk in to join you and stare at your reflection, and then his. He would get up closer to the mirror and examine his face before saying with a smile “Man, I wish I had some, they look cool! Do you think I could pull them off?” He would try and distract you from the negativity of the imperfection and explain how much more beautiful you look with them.

Yugyeom:

He didn’t really pick up on any insecurities that you had, mostly because he was so caught up in how perfect he thought you were. Nevertheless, he would take your insecurity seriously and make you feel like the most special person in the world. His go-to move would definitely be to hug you and encourage you to be more open with him so he can help you more. Once that was accomplished, you were guaranteed to receive many heart-felt compliments.

A/N: Thank you so much to the anon who requested my first ever reaction! I hope you all like it, and feel free to request more reactions, you know where to find me! xx

anonymous asked:

Hey hon! Good luck on the new blog ♡ Can we get some RFA + chubby!MC?

Thank you ! ;3; I went with headcanons, I hope that’s okay and I added V and Saeran since it’s my first request ~


Yoosung :

  • He loves it so much! He thinks it makes his s/o even cuter, doesn’t matter what’s chubby about them either, it’s more of his precious lovely s/o to hug and cuddle with in his eyes.
  • If they weren’t confident with their body, he’d spend his time complimenting them and he would constantly kiss the places they like the least.
  • I think Yoosung has to have a little bit of chub tbh, I mean he doesn’t exercise + sits all day eating junk so hah; if anything, it makes him more comfortable than his s/o is like him.

Zen :

  • He knows better than anyone that appearances don’t mean anything - he’d never judge someone on their physical appearance, let alone his darling.
  • If his s/o was uncomfortable with their weight, he’d spend his time roaming his hands all over their body and try to convince them to wear clothes they like but are too shy or uneasy to wear in public and just stay at home with him while he tells them how beautiful they are.
  • If they ever wanted to exercise with him, he’d be happy to teach them but more than anything, he’d rather make sure they’re comfortable with who they are and what they look like.
  • His mother used to tell him he was ugly and it really hurt him so he knows how much meaning words can carry and he’ll make sure his s/o is always being told how pretty they are because he’s convinced that the more they hear it, the more they’ll believe it themselves.

Jaehee :

  • I think after opening her coffee shop, Jaehee might gain some weight - nothing extreme - but since she bakes pastries for her business too, she has to taste them before putting them on the menu + now that she’s not a slave secretary anymore, she actually has the time to make her own food and eat three meals a day – which brings us to Jaehee and his s/o baking and eating together a whole tray of cookies on a lazy sunday and it’s great and there’s no reason to feel bad afterwards bc Jaehee’s baking is A++.
  • I don’t think she cares about appearances either, I mean sure, she goes on and on about Zen’s face but when it comes to her s/o, it’s different and she’d just want them to be happy and comfortable with their body bc she’s got more cookies that need to be tested.
  • + she’s a woman, she knows the pressure you can feel by living in a society that focuses so much on appearance (and I think it’s especially harsh in South Korea) so you can bet that she understands her s/o if they don’t feel like they look good enough bc she’s been there at one point of her life.

Jumin :

  • He may be a perfectionist but he also follows his own rules and standards; doesn’t matter if society says you have to be skinny to be pretty - in Jumin’s eyes, his s/o is the most perfect being in the whole world take that elizabeth and if someones talks shit on his s/o, he’ll ruin their life.
  • Does his s/o have trouble finding clothes that fit them well? Not anymore because now they have 5 stylists and fashion designers who’ll make anything they want just for them and it’ll always fit perfectly - regardless of the style of the clothes;
  • But I honestly don’t think he’d even realize his s/o is chubby, he’s a practical man and he focuses on what’s important aka his s/o is beautiful, amazing and perfect and he loves them.
  • So, I think his s/o would have to tell him if they were insecure about their body because it won’t even cross his mind that they could not like themselves.

707 :

  • He eats chips all day + sits in front of his computer; he’s even worse than Yoosung so he’s most definitely chubby but he’s hardly insecure about it and he’ll do everything he can for his s/o to be the same.
  • He’d constantly grab at the chubby parts of their body - is it their cheeks, their stomach, their thighs? doesn’t matter bc he’ll hold and squish and squeeze before rubbing his face on them like a cat - he might even purr if they brush his hair.
  • If they ever wanted to lose weight, he’d actually go on the same diet as them and exercise together. He’d be willing to give up on Honey Buddha chips and if that’s not a proof that he loves them then I don’t know what to tell you + he’d think it’s funnier to do these things together.

V :

  • He’s an artist + a pretty positive person who sees the best in people and he doesn’t care about appearances either - he sees beauty anywhere, in anything and anyone and his s/o is certainly not an exception.
  • Whether he’s blind or not, he’ll think his s/o is goshdang beautiful, he’ll smile like an idiot every time they cuddle and he gets to hold them / lie on top of them and he can trace his fingers on his s/o’s curves.
  • If he’s blind and his s/o was insecure, he’d seriously consider getting surgery for his eyes because his partner wouldn’t believe him when he said they were beautiful bc he couldn’t see them and he’d do anything for their well being and getting their confidence back.
  • Honestly, more chub = more of s/o = more to hug = happy V

Saeran :

  • With the life he’s had, judging other people’s physical appearance has never been anything he even considered doing. Maybe he was actually envious of other people who weren’t as skinny as him because they looked more healthy to him - since he had a weak health and a frail body, he always looked too thin in his opinion.
  • So having a chubby s/o might fascinate him because of the way their body would feel under his hands, how you didn’t see all their ribs protruding from their torso, unlike him. 
  • He might actually prefer a chubby s/o and would be a little sad if they wanted to lose weight because he’d miss their chub but as long as they’re okay with themselves, that’s all that matters - and if they’re not okay with themselves, he’d try to help them and in return, they’d help him accept himself.