i love and hate how much of a morning person he is

My experience with the signs in my life
  • Aries female: so stubborn is incredible. A hot head. She knows what she wants and she'll get it. Yells a lot. Cares a lot about her family. Very concerned about her diet. She looks like a cinnamon roll but is a beast inside.
  • Aries male : very intelligent, probably the most intelligent. Can either have a very scientific mind or a very literary mind. Loves to read. LOVES to make puns. Horrible ones. Has the biggest laugh.
  • Taurus female: MY BIGGEST LOVE. Literally the cutest thing. She is so smart and caring and it's true: she loves to eat. Cares so much about everyone, not only her close friends. She almost never get angry but when she does. Ouch.
  • Taurus male: a cutie. Always ready to cheer you up. DOES NOT. BELIEVE. IN. ASTROLOGY. Likes scientific shit. Loves old movies. Always laughs at your jokes. The best friend you can find. Loves Shrek.
  • Gemini female: so strong and independent. Her hair is always on point, so is her outfit. Either very tall or very short. They talk a lot and they love listening to you. Geminis are actually very lovable people. Best companion for a boring class or for lunch break.
  • Gemini male: very bold and confident about himself. Does his own thing. It's not that he is a dick, it's just that he has his own problems to take care of. Except Trump, Trumps is really a dick. Im sorry Geminis that he is in your sign. The cool guy of the class who has a different girl every week. A lil fuckboy but fun to have a chat with. Loves videogames and perfect pal to get drunk with.
  • Cancer female: not a crybaby. Actually HATES to cry in public. More often than you think, very extroverted. Very passionate about what she loves. High ambitions, starts many things and then get bored. So many puns oh god.
  • Cancer male: oh boy. "Nightmare dressed as a daydream". Makes you feel so special. Boyfriend material. Usually dark hair and dark eyes. Not very tall. Adorable. Special laugh. Will do great things in life. Very creative but kinda introvert(?) WILL RATHER DIE THAN CRY IN PUBLIC.
  • Leo female: very close about her private things but she will open up if you demonstrate her she can trust you. Loves everyone. Not that confident about herself. Very confident about the world, tho. Wants to move someplace else and experience. People respect her.
  • Leo male: Stonehead™. Literally smokes all the time to forget about the pain he feels. Hides emotions and then explodes, usually with rage. Either very close to you that he calls you every day, or he'll completely ignore you. Smart even tho it doesn't look like. The lonely wolf.
  • Virgo female: so stubborn and independent. She knows what she wants and she'll get it. Can get very clingy to the people she loves but sometimes neglect other people she loves even tho she doesn't notice. Get mad easily for the little things. The queen. Just listen to her, she knows the shit.
  • Virgo male: cute but doesn't have his own personality. Sometimes gets involved in ugly companies and does things he doesn't want to. Very sensitive but tries to hide it. Actually cares about you even tho he wants to appear a tough boy. Pretends he doesn't care about school, ends up with all A. Probably very good at soccer.
  • Libra female: becomes part of your family if she isn't already. Amazing lipsticks. Always has great stories to tell. Lives in the clouds. Forgets about things easily but won't forget the important things. Has so many passions but get easily distracted when she is studying for an exam. Perfect person to binge watch Sherlock with.
  • Libra male: my everything. Pretends he's a gryffindor but deep down is a slytherin. Stunning. Gets high grade without doing shit. The teacher favorite. The one you can do stupid shit with. Will do anything for you. Listens to you 24/7. Loves tv shows. Very smart. Will probably end up doing something very important. Perfect dad.
  • Scorpio female: actually very sweet and caring, as much as cancer. Never shows off her emotions but you'll know when she cares about you. She's like a mama bear. She'll call you if she feels you are not happy. She'll call you constantly. Extroverted and kind. Best presents ever. Looks naive but very cautious.
  • Scorpio male: ok so my ex fwb was a scorpio and i gotta say they get emotionally attached. Pretend they don't care AT ALL and then calls u at 2 in the morning telling u they love you. Just be careful cause they don't know what they want. Obsessed with electronic things and sex.
  • Sagittarius female: literally on fire. SHE. TALKS. SO. MUCH. I have so many different feelings about her. Either i love completely or I can't stand her. She pretends she knows everything. She's so slow at doing everything, except talking. Laughs a lot. Very sensitive deep down. So loud.
  • Sagittarius male: Pretty introverted. The fire is hidden. He's a freaking badass. If he cares about you, he will show you. Most likely to call you at midnight for your birthday. Very sweet. Goes big or goes home, especially in love. Both a cinnamon and a sinnamon roll. Like if he ain't in the same political party as you, just don't mention politics. That's when the fire shows.
  • Capricorn female: so. she actually cares about you. but she has so much shit going on so she might forget to come at a place you invited her, she won't even apologize but when something happens to you, be sure she'll call. She's absolutely cute and she has been hurt so many times so it's hard for her to trust people completely.
  • Capricorn male: THE FUCKING FANBOY. He loves to travel and to try new things. He is so shy but with his friends he's crazy. Laughs at his own jokes. Extremely sensitive and when he loves, he loves hard. So intelligent and interesting. Absolutely adorable.
  • Aquarius female: the sweetest. she gets clingy to everyone but because she wants to have friends and do things and has a lot of problems but holds everything in and puts her friends first and she's hurt. The most precious human. She needs, she deserves to be loved the most. Learns very quickly and she's very honest.
  • Aquarius male: the devil™. Actually he is funny, like so many jokes, but sometimes it's just too much. He hates when people offend him. Gets on the defensive. Kinda selfish and cares a lot about like 3 people (?). Like he will kill for them. So much drama, boy. Probably failed history and algebra 2 twice.
  • Pisces female: such a badass and a cutiepie at the same time i don't even know how this is possible. she has such a strong personality and loves her friends. Determined and will fight with her teeth for what she loves. You need to have a pisces in your life. She always says she will kill a person but then she just like run away.
  • Pisces male: like just like the pisces female. Cares so much about his family and shows his emotions easily, whether is anger or sadness or happiness. Determined but also insecure about himself, but will do great things.
The Minyard-Josten Pros’ Coming Out

Or, That Time Andrew Got Pissed And Posted The Video That Broke The Internet

  • Years down the line, our boys are both pros and Neil is getting annoyed at all the press conferences that get derailed by either the Josten-Minyard rivalry or whether he is or isn’t in a committed relationship as some gossip magazines have been implying
  • he’s not allowed to deal with it, though
    • he’s actually not allowed to say anything to the press that his coach and PR team haven’t approved of
    • he calls it bullshit
    • he only ever antagonized a dangerous yakuza criminal once
    • people really can’t let anything go, in this sport

Keep reading

i’m so tired of this narrative that steve was a horrible piece of shit until season 2 because honestly did you guys watch season 1? steve has always been a good person. good people can make mistakes and learn from them.

episode one: 

  • he stumbles through nancy’s bedroom window claiming to be a ninja. idk how y’all weren’t charmed by that
  • when they’re making out, nancy tells him to stop and he stops. he then makes her feel special and gives her a compliment. then he goes back to helping her study, since that’s what she wanted.

episode two:

  • tommy makes a joke about jonathan killing will and steve hits him in the chest and tells him to stop. 
  • if you watch in the background when barb asks steve where the bathroom is, he watches and makes sure she gets inside okay. 
  • giving nancy a towel and rubbing her arms, asking if she’s okay. he’s so soft
  • offers nancy clean clothes and immediately looks away when she asks him to. certain other male characters can’t relate!

episode three:

  • when nancy pulls away from kissing him, steve stops and asks her if she’s alright. he also calls her beautiful twice.
  • he goes right up to her in the hallway the morning after and assures her that he had a nice time with her and calls her cute. this makes nancy feel much better about things.
  • steve later attempts to calm nancy’s worries about barb and tells off tommy for being a dick about her. 
  • LISTEN steve had every right to break jonathan’s camera. i don’t give a fuck about any argument y’all throw out, it’s the truth. jonathan took revealing photos of nancy without her consent and in steve’s mind, he watched them have sex. he was being a good boyfriend. he was protecting nancy. any good partner would’ve done the same thing.
  • later on in the hallway, he chases after nancy and is genuinely concerned when she tells him she has to leave. 

episode four:

  • okay we only see steve one time and he’s a dick about the police and barb. it’s sort of implied that his father is abusive, so you can’t hate him for being selfish in this situation.

episode five:

  • steve comes to nancy’s house unprompted, admits that he was wrong and apologizes. he says that even though he’ll get in trouble, he’ll tell the truth about the party and then offers to take nancy to a movie to take her mind off of things.
  • side note but him singing into the bat cleansed me of my traumas

episode six:

  • he drove out to nancy’s house to make sure that she was alright and was genuinely upset to see her with jonathan. i can’t believe ppl in this fandom think that steve was playing nancy the whole time like….did y’all watch?
  • i’m not going to defend steve’s actions in this episode bc they are gross BUT i think it’s somewhat important to note that tommy is the one who spray painted “nancy the slut wheeler,” not steve.

episode seven:

  • steve tells carol to stop talking bad about nancy and tells off tommy for writing those words on the theater. 
  • he speaks very highly of nancy (sad face emoji bc s2) and mentions that he believes she’s a genuinely good person. he then ditches his friends, his best friends in the whole world, just bc he realized that he was in the wrong. steve gave up everything that he knew just to be with nancy. if one of y’all calls him a fuckboy again…..
  • he goes to the movie theater and scrubs the slur off himself

episode eight:

  • once again unprompted, he goes to jonathan’s house to apologize for the things that he said. he had no idea that nancy would be there. 
  • his voice gets so soft when he sees that nancy’s hand is hurt omg joe is so good he kills me. and then he bursts in like a good partner would when he suspects that jonathan had hurt her. we love a chivalrous man
  • he’s so CUTE when he’s running around screaming about the demogorgan bc he has no idea what’s going on. a comedic icon!
  • steve hauls ass out of the house but then stops when he sees the lights flicker. and then he goes back inside!!!!!!!! and he saves jonathan and nancy!!! y’all love to forget that your fav hets would be dead if steve wasn’t a brave legend who invented baseball bats. 
  • he then buys jonathan a new camera, which i definitely would not have done, but steve is a good person so he did.

there you have it ladies! steve harrington has always been a good person. he’s made mistakes but unlike other characters, he worked to be a better person and apologized and made up for those things. he’s always been boyfriend goals and i’m tired of all these posts like “s2 steve would’ve beat s1 steve’s ass” like ??? no he wouldn’t ???? shut the fuck up you don’t sound woke anyway steve is my boyfriend kiss my ass

Ok but longer rant now....

The Greatest Showman may have won me over with its music…but let’s look at the message, and why it’s so damn brilliant for the movie to be a “hoax” of its own. 

First, though, I want to address the fact that the real PT Barnum was a conman and an asshole. He was greedy, always looking to make a quick buck, and he did blackface shows. He was a racist, just like every other white man in that time, and true history will always be dotted with astounding stories that are never as glamorous as hollywood will make them seem. 

Like yeah, not cool, and no excuses about it being a “different time.” I never met PT Barnum, and if there’s someone alive who DID or heard firsthand about what he was like, then maybe they’d be able to tell us if he had any kind of nobler aspirations outside of conning the gullible. 

But something you have to realize is that the PT Barnum of the Greatest Showman is not the real life PT Barnum, it is an optimistic reimagining by Hugh Jackman and I for one am ok with that.

WHY did critics need a realistic and historically accurate musical movie? 

Why COULDN’T it be light-hearted fun? 

Why did you NEED a gloomy miserable realistic gritty story about an irredeemable asshole? 

If we wanted to be miserable, we’d watch the news. We’d go on Twitter, where a sexual abuse scandal, a natural disaster, or a new shooting is probably trending. We’d go to our friends, talking about how a guy literally filmed the corpse of a person who committed suicide in a vlog. 

If we WANTED reality, we would GO to it, we know exactly where it is. It’s in our bones, weighing on our hearts and minds, dragging our limbs, and keeping us in bed in the morning and night, knowing that every day humanity grows worse. 

The idea is not to idolize the real PT Barnum.

It’s simply to appreciate Hugh Jackman’s Barnum. His STORY, which laughs and pokes fun at critics who need a dry, boring story that appeals to them. 

His story, which even has a character who admits that he writes boring conventional plays. 

Plays which are…critically well received. 

The Greatest Showman appeals to audiences with glamour and pure joy. 

 It gives us stunning visuals, fantastic choreography, and gorgeous shiver-inducing music. 

It gives us elephants, rings of fire, lovely diversely skinned and shaped people singing their hearts out and enjoying themselves, putting their everything into their performances and trying to make you smile. 

It gives us easy romances, a childhood romance and a star-crossed lovers romance. 

It gives us easy messages about how humanity is strange and bizarre and that’s why it’s so beautiful. 

It’s a people-pleaser, and critics didn’t like it.

They are literally the guy who accused Barnum of selling “hoaxes.”

And that’s why the movie matters so much to me. 

Because I like movies that are what they are. They aren’t carefully constructed by a corporate committee to appeal to everyone in order to make as much money as possible. 

Jackman admitted that the movie was risky because musicals don’t do too well  at the box office.

He took a chance, like his character with his crazy circus idea. 

Sure, the cliches were there, and sure the story was simple and predictable but fucking hell, man. 

Why do critics hate FUN? 

I’ll SEE Dunkirk, OK (I’m lying). I’ll watch any dry political historical drama you want me to, if that’s the only thing that’ll force you to hear my opinion. 

I saw Blade Runner 2049, ALRIGHT. 

I watched your boring remake, reboot, sequel, whatever, and listen to your philosophical drivel that us “commoner” normies could never understand. 

but LET me have my silly musical. 

I KNOW it’s a hoax. That’s the brilliance of it. The movie itself almost…knows that it is a hoax. It doesn’t care.

Because while it may not be genuine, it IS genuinely trying to make you happy.

And for me personally?

Yes.

It made me happy. 

And that’s enough. 

That’s enough, critics. 

Get stuffed. 

Too long didn’t read?

Let me sum up my rant with this gif:

- Cas has said that Dean and him have a more “profound bond” than Sam and Cas do

- Dean is always significantly impacted by Cas dying/leaving/etc, and Sam, although also hurt by it, not NEARLY as much as Dean always is

- Dean and Cas have movie nights, (presumably) without Sam

- Dean wanted to actually die after Cas died, not wanting to live without him

- Cas has an issue with personal space but only with Dean ??

- Eye sex

- Cas never watches Sam while he sleeps, but you bet your ass he watches Dean

- Cas (presumably) usually always makes Dean coffee in the morning

- Dean made Cas a mixtape

- How Dean hates Jack, but suddenly Cas comes back and Dean wants Jack to stay

- “I need you”

- 13x05 NEVER shows Sam’s reaction to seeing Cas again, as if only Dean and Cas are reuniting

- How Dean always welcomes Cas home, because home is where the Dean is

- Dean not believing in anything after Cas’ death

- “I just need a win” *Cas comes back*

- Cas says “I love you.” *Camera cuts to Dean*

But yeah no —‘brotherly love’

Matt Damon (hear me out)

Another reason I fucking love Benedict Cumberbatch. 

Matt Damon has been saying that the men who haven’t been raping/molesting/inappropriately touching women should be praised for y’know, not being rapey and grabby, for having basic human decency. Someone on twitter was saying how if someone broke a dish, Damon would show up and ask you to say what a good job he did for NOT breaking dishes that day. 

Matt Damon, I’m going to quote the ancient one….IT’S NOT ABOUT YOU. 

But the rage directed at Damon, a privileged white man who has the world laid out for him on a golden platter (I’m speaking as a woman who lived in a refugee camp for over a year to escape persecution and death in the Middle East…I can expand on that if you wish). 

It’s. Not. About. You.

This is about women, this is about the daily struggles of women. Women who wake up every morning and think “oh is my boss going to grope today?” “am i going to get blackmailed into submission?” “is my boss going to be condescending today?” “how much blatant disrespect am i going to have to put up with before i explode?” 

For a lot of women, this is a reality, this is every day.

Matt Damon, it’s not about you. 

But as most things, this reminded me of BC. I will forever and always blow his trumpet when it comes to the work he did for the Syrian refugees and for the graceful way he dealt with Weinstein. 

Damon had/has NOTHING to lose when the allegations against Weinstein started. Cumberbatch, on the other hand, had a movie coming out, had started the press tours, had introduced the movie at TIFF. TCW was set up to premiere just in time for Oscar nods, and even though the TIFF reviews weren’t kind as a whole, they all agreed that Cumberbatch delivered and he was generating Oscar buzz. 

Cumberbatch had A LOT to lose. And yet, he SPOKE UP. he could’ve quietly gone along, no one would have really blamed him and we would all have attributed his silence to him being a private person and never really jumping into inner-Hollywood drama, and being a busy daddy of 2 young babies and a busy actor and budding producer with his own company to run. 

And yet! 

HE SPOKE UP.

Almost immediately, he was one of the first actors to come out and he kept his statement focused on the victims, NEVER talking about himself except to say that he was disgusted. 

I hated Damon the second he said that he found Weinstein’s actions to be deplorable now that he had a daughter….Meaning that it was ok for Weinstein to do what he did when Damon had no daughters. Meaning that it’s ok as long as it happens to someone else’s daughter? 

But then you have Cumberbatch, with 2 boys. With Damon and the rest of Hollywood’s logic, he should’ve kept his silence then, encouraged his boys to do as they wished. EXCEPT HE DIDN’T. His boys will grow into men, read their father’s statement, see the campaign he participated in, and know the difference between right and wrong, between acting like a decent human being and well, acting like Weinstein (and Trump…and Lauer….and Rose…and Spacey…)

And the DAY that TCW was set to release, this movie that got pushed back, that meant BC lost a chunk of the year, lost the US market, he participated in a campaign that empowered and encouraged WOMEN and VICTIMS to speak up without ever, ever, ever putting himself into the equation except to lend his voice. his articulate, loud, methodical voice. 

How lovely is that? Just let yourself think about the statement he made.

So Matt Damon wanting praise for not being a rapist makes me love Benedict Cumberbatch even more. 

As a woman, as a victim, and as a budding advocate, I choose to praise BC in the way that he will never praise himself. 

Know why? He’s a decent, human being. 

He is a good man.


(I realize I’ve been writing essays on here latey but I’m going to be out of court for like 3 weeks and the advocate in my head is getting bored)

Originally posted by sherlockspeare

Eight Months.

Even eight months after the break up, Harry still felt the overwhelming urge to check up on you and your life. He would check your social media accounts a few times a week, more so before going to bed when thoughts of you plagued his mind. It felt naughty, wrong in a way; after all, it was him who ended your two year relationship.

*

“It’s never going to change, Harry! Things will always be the same! You ‘forgot’ my birthday and you spent the day with Kendall. You ‘forgot’ our date night and you spent the evening with Cara. I know it’s what the media want and expect from you, and I know management want you to do this, but I think you want to as well” you sigh, the words you had held for so long in your mouth now finally spilling out.

“You’re joking, right? That was a joke? You seriously think I want to spend any spare time I have with Kendall or Cara over you? Management need me to do this, if I don’t, I can kiss goodbye to my pay cheque! Half the things I do in this job is for you! How the fuck else would you get the latest handbags and purses and shoes?! Who else is going to pay for your education? Because I don’t see you or your family offering to cough up!” he spits almost bitterly.

You gasp in shock at his words. He knew your financial situation at home and that your parent’s worked so bloody hard to provide for you, but it just wasn’t enough. Your future career depended on your qualifications, and those qualifications could only be acquired in higher education in which Harry had offered to pay for, before he knew anything about the money side of things.

“Really, Harry? That’s how you feel? You think I’m with you for the money? I don’t give a damn about the shoes or bags and purses or latest fashion trends. I love you because you’re my boyfriend and I see myself living the rest of my life with you. I don’t love you because you’re Harry Styles from One Direction!” you spit back, your words truthful.

“I’ve heard that one before” he tells you, his eyes averting to the floor.

“So now you’ve got trust issues with me? Other girls may have treated you like that in the past, but I’m not like other girls, Harry. Two years we’ve been together and you really think that of me? When you guys broke up as a band, and you didn’t know what was going to happen to your music career, who was the one sitting up with you every night holding you whilst you cried? Other girls would have run a mile because of the uncertainty of your future. I love you even if you have nothing!” you shout at him.

Harry shrugs his shoulders and bites his lip. “Look, it’s not even just this causing arguments. They’ve been going on for a while and maybe having Kendall and Cara as friends is something you can’t handle. But I can’t live my life like this anymore. I’m done arguing with you all the time” he tells you softly.

“You’re making it sound like I don’t want you having friends, which isn’t true. I want you to put me first, like you did at the start of our relationship. You would have done anything back then for me, Harry. I hate arguing with you too. Maybe if we arrange some sort of schedule and arrange dates in advance to see each other?” you suggest.

Harry shakes his head. “I think it’s too little too late, (Y/N).”

You frown, your bottom lip beginning to quiver as you ask the dreaded question. “Are you breaking up with me.”

Harry’s eyes avert to the floor once more and the silence between you both speaks more volumes than words ever could.

*

Your Instagram account had been almost inactive for the first month after the break up, with only the occasional bog-standard photos of new make-up purchases and Starbucks coffee. But no selfies and nothing that indicated any happiness in your life. After three months, your social media accounts portrayed some happiness returning to your life as you took selfies with friends on regular nights out, but Harry knew as well as anyone that social media is one massive cover up for reality. Were you really actually happy? Were you living or were you just alive?

It seemed to him that your life continued to appear happy, but after four months of opening the app, he noticed someone by your side. Photograph after photograph, upload after upload, this person would be stood next to you. You had a side when taking photos with Harry, but now somebody else was standing on Harry’s side, taking his place, standing where he should be standing. Then tagging each other on Twitter began taking place. Simple things such as “coffee dates” and memes.

Five months after the messy break up, Harry sighted a picture of the two of you kissing; you and your new beau, as it was publicised. Your lips on his, no doubt his tongue down your throat and he wanted to vomit. It didn’t make social media, but it made the headlines in the news. The media had left you alone a little while after the break up, but of course, a new relationship for you meant gossip amongst the public, especially One Direction fans and Harry girls, and the tabloids couldn’t resist the opportunity.

Upon reaching seven months, Harry noticed another change in you on social media. You were becoming more and more inactive by the day, rarely replying to tweets and the amount of photographs posted reduced. Anybody else would put it down to business in studying and spending time with loved ones, but Harry knew how much you had loved your interactions on social media, and something didn’t sit quite right with him. But then he remembered that he’s not yours and you’re not his, and you have someone else taking care of you now.

*

Eight months later, and Harry still had you on his mind almost every minute of the day. He would awake in the morning with the help of his alarm but your hair wasn’t sprawled across the pillows as he would expect; he no longer bothered eating breakfast in the mornings; gone are the days when he used keep something warm on the stove for you, for when you awoke, ensuring you had something warm for your hungry tummy in the mornings; he had nobody to send a morning text to. His routine was completely out of sync and nothing over the last few months made it any better.

He would come home every evening to an empty apartment. He had nobody to cook dinner for. He had nobody to talk to about his day. He had nobody to snuggle up to at night. He had nobody to kiss. He had nobody to love and he had nobody to love him.

Some nights would be simple; Harry would climb into bed and flick on the television, watching a favourite film in which he no longer got pleasure out of. He’d check his social media, and then check yours, before setting his alarm and falling asleep, his dreams of you haunting him throughout the night.

Other nights, he’d yearn for you. He loved you, still loves you, and wants nothing more than to hold you whilst you sleep and keep you safe in his embrace. But he would yearn for you in other ways too, awakening in the night from happy dreams of you, his cock hard for you. He would lay awake between the sheets, grinding his hips into them and rubbing himself vigorously as he imagined being inside of you. He would let himself go completely when he could imagine the moans that would leave your lips, the breathlessness you would encounter, and it was as though he could almost feel you come around him.

He hadn’t been in another relationship since the split, but there had been a couple of one night stands. In a way to get over you, ironically, he would fuck others that had similar traits to you. The same hair colour, the same laugh, the same smile. But neither of those girls were you. He didn’t really want them, they just happened along with the alcohol consumption of both parties involved. After two girls, he stopped. He wasn’t sure if it was the reality of the situation that made him stop, or if it was the slap he received one night.

*

The music was pounding against the speaker, the DJ’s were screaming out and giving shoutouts, mostly for people’s birthday’s and other celebrations, bartenders were leaning over the bar in an attempt to actually hear what the customers were ordering in the club, and everyone was like sardines, squashed together, but everyone seemed to be enjoying it and having a good time. Everyone except Harry.

He occasionally moved around and shuffled his feet in an attempt to dance, but he felt so lost without you there. He kept an eye out to see if you were around, almost forgetting that you didn’t go there together. He always used to keep an eye on you, making sure you were safe on the dance floor and that no drunken men took advantage of you. He was your protector. 

“What’s your name?” a young blonde asked. That was the only thing that was same about the two of you. You’re blonde and so was she. But she wasn’t you. Harry wasn’t too sure if she was just acting oblivious to the fact that he was the most famous, most well-known person in the club, or whether she was just so drunk that she barely knew her own name, let alone his.

“Harry” he told her, placing his hand on the small of her back and pulling her closer so as they could hear each other’s spoken words over the thumping music.

The girl nods. “Louise” she tells him. “Fancy getting out of here?” she asks. 

Harry nods. He realises she’s not as drunk as he thought she was, but taking in her features, she looked a few years older than him. Maybe she really didn’t know who he was.

“Mine or yours?” she asks as they stumble out of the nightclub and onto the streets of London. Louise quickly hails a taxi as Harry replies, “yours.”

Whilst his own place seemed more appealing as he wouldn’t have the awkward ‘leaving after a shag’ stage, he didn’t want to take her, or anyone, to his bed. Only you got the privilege to be in his bed. He didn’t fuck anyone else in his bed, only you. He didn’t want anyone else to come in the sheets besides the two of you together and for each other.

The taxi ride back to hers was soon over and they stumbled through her apartment, his lips pressed to hers. Their eyes remained closed as he thought about you. Undressing you. Running his hands up and down your body and caressing your breasts as you laid all bare for him, for his eyes only.

Harry breathlessly pulls aways as he lifts up the miniskirt. They both quickly realise this is nothing more than sex up against the wall. She’s not taking him to bed either, and Harry wonders if Louise is also getting over someone. Within the next thought, he doesn’t care. He does’t love Louise. He loves (Y/N).

The blonde grabs at his belt, unbuckling it and unzipping his trousers, his length exposed to her. He quickly reaches into his back pocket before letting his trousers drop and rips open the packaging. Covering himself with the latex, he soon pushes himself into her. She gasps, taking him in, before moving quickly against him.

They’ve both been drinking and he knows his performance will be affected greatly, so he’s not surprised when he quickly comes inside of her, moaning her name. She gasps and he withdraws from her quickly. Before even getting the chance to dress himself, her hand collides with his cheek.

“Louise! I told you my name is Louise!” she yells at him angrily.

And in that moment, he realises that he moaned your name when he came.

*

He arrived home from the studio and continued his evening rituals. No work the following day meant he could have a later night and whilst he was glad to be able to sleep in later and not have the demands of an alarm clock, he knew from experience that on a day off where he lacked a busy schedule, you would be on his mind more than ever.

The night passed with Harry doing nothing more than eating his evening meal and lounging around in front of the television, flicking through channels to find something to entertain him for a few hours. He occasionally reached for the bottle of whiskey, pouring himself small measures each time. Whilst the drinking had become a regular habit a few months back, Harry had realised that drowning his problems with alcohol helped nobody, not even himself, and he kicked the habit almost as quickly as it had started. No amount of alcohol got you out of his head.

The comedy shows provided some entertainment, and whilst there were a few forced laughs, Harry did find some of the jokes genuinely funny. He couldn’t remember the last time he laughed properly.

Tapping his watch with a yawn, he checked the time. Flicking off the television set, he threw the remotes back on the sofa and picked his body up from the position he had been in for hours. A loud, repeated knock on the door made him jump slightly. The banging got harder and more frantic and he could only wonder who would be calling in on him at this hour. “Alright, I’m coming!” he yelled in frustration. Couldn’t his unwanted and unwelcome guest wait two minutes?!

Heading into the hallway, he unlocked the door, pouting his lips to express his emotion, making sure the person on the other side of it knew he was angry at the disturbance and the complete lack of respect for him and his property. As far as they were aware, he may well have had work the next morning. Swinging the door open,  he gasps, taking in the demeanour of the person standing in front of him, the sight almost killing him as bile rose in his stomach and a nauseous feeling took control of his body.

Office-mate who loves CNN but doesn't understand how televisions work is destroyed by that which she loves most.

I work in a small office with only 6 people. The way the office is broken up I share my office with another person, so we’re essentially facing each other. It’s away from the other offices, so we’re kind of left to our own devices. I’ve been working here for about three years now, and have always gotten along with my office-mate. My old office-mate left to start a family, so I’ve been alone for a bit before they hired Marge.

Marge is what you’d find if you googled “worst office-mate.” She brings in smelly food she eats at her desk, she plays loud music in our shared space (even after being asked not to), she fights with the boss on every little thing, she’s nosy (always asking me where I’ve been when I walk back into the office, and I’ve literally caught her listening in at the bosses door). She asks me invasive questions, and when I finally snapped at her to mind her own business she acted like I’d personally assaulted her.

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anonymous asked:

I wish you would write a fic about Scott getting werewolf drunk with Derek and accidentally letting it slip that Stiles is on love with Derek. (In honor of your drinking) ;)

“Scott, I’m going to kill you!”

The door of his apartment banged open and for the first time in years, Scott jumped in shock. His coffee mug hit the kitchen tile and shattered, piping hot coffee splashed over his bare feet, and he suddenly remembered Stiles saying at some point that he was learning how to mask his presence from werewolves.

Apparently he mastered that particular skill.

And how to magically and silently open a deadbolt.

Normally Scott would pick up Stiles’ familiar heartbeat two floors down, and his jeep while it was still a ways down the road, but this time, there had been nothing. No heartbeat, no jeep, not even footsteps in the hallway—until suddenly there was everything. Elevated heart rate, clouds of anger wafting through the apartment, Stiles stomping closer, furious for some reason, and Scott could do nothing to prepare himself because for the first time in his life, he was hungover.

Really hungover.

He was dying, because just the night before, he discovered in the stupidest way possible that yes, werewolves could get drunk with the right tools and a little determination. And the right tool was some crazy strong alcohol Stiles brought back from Poland last year that could punch straight through even an alpha werewolf’s metabolism. And what did he do with that discovery?

Shots.

Like a college freshman away from home for the first time, buckling under immense peer pressure.

He was hungover, he was dying, and he was an idiot.

An idiot who Stiles was apparently about to murder, judging by his murderous expression when he turned the corner and locked his wild, murderous gaze on Scott. His hair was tugged up in every direction, he’d probably slept in that loose and stretched shirt, and he had the manic energy of a man who’d been roaming the streets looking for vengeance.

It had been years since Scott last felt any kind of inkling of fear towards his best friend, but right then, standing in his underwear in a puddle of hot coffee, feeling nauseous and fuzzy and somehow bloated—he was horribly aware of the mountain ash that Stiles always had on him. It was the emissary’s favorite threat towards werewolves who pissed him off, and while he rarely ever followed through with it, that murderous face promised no empty threats. Just revenge.

Scott stepped out of the puddle of hot coffee. That was really all he could do to improve the situation.

“You told him,” Stiles accused, eyes narrowed with rage as he stalked closer. “You actually told him, I can’t believe you would tell him!”

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Maybe More Than Friends (Peter Parker x Stark!Reader)

Word Count: 4,729

Peter Parker x Reader

Summary: After Peter joined the Avengers, you were basically forced into spending a lot of time with him, being that your father is being that your father is the Tony Stark. Your relationship starts off fairly innocent being as Peter was fairly shy around you, and not to mention that Tony had strictly forbid you two from dating. But despite your best efforts, the sexual tension between you two is undeniable. And one night while the rest of the Avengers are out on a mission, leaving you and Peter alone, the sexual tension comes to a peak. Peter is 18 in this fic.

Warnings: Extreme fluff. Language. Smut smut smut

You remember the first time you met Peter Parker. It was embarrassing, to say the least.

It was a pretty unexpected meetup. You didn’t even know that he was in the tower. You were working in the lab with another one of your dad’s employees, helping design a suit for the new Avengers recruit, Spiderman. It was your first major job, and you were so focused that you hadn’t even noticed when your dad and Peter walked in.

“Hey, Y/N, meet the new recruit, Peter. Peter, meet Y/N, my daughter.” Tony said loudly as he entered the lab, startling you and making you hit your head on the wall.

Keep reading

You know what? I really love this and here’s why.

You have Draco, who has never been much of a (physically) touchy person, even more so after the war.

Draco, who feels as though he has no other option than to isolate himself from the students at school because of this web of guilt gripping his insides.

Harry, who is crushed under the weight of being treated like a celebrity; of constant inquiries of whether or not he was okay; of everyone treating him like one of Aunt Petunia’s antique China cups.

Was there reluctancy behind the friendship Draco and Harry found in each other? Perhaps. But that didn’t mean they didn’t immediately gravitate towards each other.

Befriending Draco, Harry thought, felt like a small act of rebellion. Like dunking your head underwater but emerging feeling new, feeling clean.

And befriending Harry, Draco thought, was everything he never said he’d wanted from the first time he saw his picture in the papers. Like coming home for the holidays to a fire burning and soup on the stove. Like sharing secrets on the playground as a kid.

Like a giant crush he would never admit to anyone.

They really did mesh well together in an unconventional way, much like mixing hot and cold water to create something mild. Maybe with a few added drops of hot sauce.

The hair, though. That was going to have to change.

Here’s the thing. Draco liked control. Adored control. He needed control in order to breathe.

But Harry? He made Draco lose his grasp on the reins of reality. His palms got clammy. The urge to constantly lick his lips increased by a factor of twenty. His clothes felt entirely too tight to fit him anymore. All because of that damn hair.

Harry let it grow out, and now it fell lazily over his shoulders in a way Draco thought should be illegal (no one should be allowed to look that good with hair that atrocious). Hairbrushes and combs and products seemed nonexistent to Harry. His hair draped itself across his eyes when he wasn’t paying attention during one of his dazed-out moments. It probably smelled like Irish Spring.

Draco wanted to roll around in it forever.

He hated it.

He couldn’t stop thinking about it. The hair. He couldn’t stop thinking about the boy on which it dwelled. Maybe if it didn’t look so damn good all the time Draco wouldn’t have to deal with the unwanted feelings cropping up every time they were in the room together, lingering somewhere between his stomach and his rib cage. He couldn’t handle it.

He finally caved one day, barging into the eighth year common room armed with his combs and products and a slew of other hair-related items, and announced to an amused but compliant Harry that he was going to “fix” his hair. It was only for the good of humanity as a whole (so Draco said).

Yes, yes, this was exactly what he needed. Get the hair out of Harry’s face. Out of sight, out of mind. If only he could do that with Harry himself… God, his hair was softer than he had imagined it.

No, fuck, no! He looked damn wonderful with a French braid in!

Harry kept the braid in all day, twiddling the end with his thumb and forefinger while he slouched in an overstuffed chair and read a book. He was just trying to taunt him with his devastatingly good looks, Draco thought. He’d have to have another go the next day. He was determined.

A goddamn ponytail was no better. Hell, Harry looked bloody fuckable in space buns, for heavens sake! Draco was running out of hairstyles to try out, and out of excuses as to why he was so desperate to “fix” Harry’s hair. “It’s bloody atrocious” was not going to be a suitable excuse for much longer.

It became routine, however, somehow: Draco shoving his feelings down his throat each morning, approaching Harry in the common room armed with a wide variety of products, sculpting his hair into some style Harry would somehow use to unknowingly taunt Draco from across the room for the entirety of the day… a routine they both secretly enjoyed immensely but would never say anything about.

The hints of reluctancy loitering uninvited behind their newfound friendship were gone.

Harry told Draco everything now. Not just the hard stuff. His favorite color. His favorite quidditch moment. Why he thought the sky was blue. Things he never talked about with Ron and Mione.

All while Draco did his hair in the mornings and tried with every fiber of his being not to blurt out how he really felt.

Until the time everyone was gone for the holidays, and they were the only ones in the common room, and they had both had far too much firewhiskey to drink. The few embers remaining in the fireplace cast a warm orange glow across the room and Draco didn’t think twice before absently reaching up to wind a lock of Harry’s hair around his finger. It was the softest thing he’d ever ever felt.

Harry smelled like Irish Spring.

He wasn’t sure why he’d felt prompted to touch it. He just thought Harry looked like what might happen if Draco took all the magic out of his body and made a person out of it and forgot about everything else.

They were sitting limply against the front of one of the couches, forced to the ground with drunkenness and sleep. The clock said it was past midnight. Midnight was dangerous. Midnight was full of lowered inhibitions and regrettable conversations.

Draco didn’t see it happen. He didn’t know it was happening, even after it was over. They just were. They were drunk. They were content. They were Harry. They were Draco. They were… kissing.

Harry was kissing him.

Kissing, with more meaning (and tongue) than Draco had ever been kissed with before. And there was so much hair everywhere, hair to roll around in, to smell, to touch, to feel, to love, and they were kissing

“Why fix my hair? What was wrong with it to begin with?”

Draco scowled, internally scolding his feelings for not forcing him to regurgitate them before Harry made the first move. “Nothing at all, you idiot. That was the problem.”

EXO / Mafia AU – You start to have feelings for them after an arranged marriage

Request: Oh oh oh would you pls do an exo version of that arranged marriage & Mafia thing? I’m getting excited right now!!            

thank you for requesting this, I hope you enjoy!!

TRIGGER WARNING! Some strong language and some violence

OTHER MAFIA AUs: BTS / EXO / GOT7



Xiumin

Originally posted by katherine8595

Sometimes you felt as if you were the modern-life Juliet. You were forced to marry the Romeo that you had no feelings for, just so two rival Mafia families could be united.

However, even after you moved in with your Romeo, you couldn’t help but still feel the hate that basically coursed through your blood.

You grew up being told that his family was to be hated and now suddenly you were a part of it. It messed with your head.

“Could you stop making that noise?” you asked Minseok with a groan, not realizing that this was the twentieth time you asked him to stop doing something in the past hour.

“I’m breathing,” Minseok answered, glaring at you.

“Yeah. It’s loud,” you said. “I’m trying to read here.”

“You read all the time,” he shot back lamely. “Is that your specialty? Do you think that because you’ll read and become a know-it-all, you’ll be able to achieve a higher place in the Mafia hierarchy?

You stared at him with a frown. “What the hell are you talking about? I read because I like to read.”

“See, but that’s not what everyone else thinks.”

“Oh, really? And what do they think?”

“They think you’re pretentious,” Minseok said, not specifying who ‘they’ were. “They think you’re showing off.”

“Showing off what? The fact that I can read?” you raised your eyebrows in a mocking way.

“Showing off in general,” he explained. “You walk around here thinking that you’re better than us.”

You rolled your eyes, not admitting that maybe there was a little truth to his words, and stayed quiet. Minseok smirked, thinking that he won this time.

“Are you one of them?” you asked, a few minutes later.

“One of what?” Minseok asked, having already forgotten what you’ve been talking about before.

“One of those people who think that I’m showing off,” you finished.

He considered this and the longer he stayed quiet, the more interested in his answer you were becoming.

“No,” he said finally. “I just think you’re uncomfortable here. I think all of this is new for you and you don’t know how to handle it all, so you handle it the only way you know how. The only way you’ve been taught how. By hating us and appearing snobbish.”

“Oh, so I’m also snobbish.”

“That’s not what I said.”

You knew it wasn’t. You were just trying to win some time to regain your balance after he had openly admitted that he didn’t think you were stuck-up. It was nice to hear that at least one person in this house had somewhat warm feelings for you.

“So, do you think this will work?” you asked again. “I mean us. Our marriage. God, I sound like I’m forty.”

Minseok laughed. You haven’t heard him laugh before and you’d thought of him as one of the most serious people you’ve ever met, but when he was smiling, he looked almost ten years younger, and an unexpected thought flashed through your mind.

You liked his laugh. You wanted to see him laugh. Hell, you wanted to make him laugh.

“I think anything can work,” Minseok said, going back to his serious self suddenly. “Even our marriage. Though right now it’s the furthest thing from an actual marriage I’ve ever seen.”

It was your turn to start laughing. “We are talking, though. So that’s a start.”

Minseok smiled at this, sending your brain into another overdrive. “Took us long enough.”


Suho

Originally posted by dazzlingkai

Junmyeon wasn’t a bad person. Sure, he could kill in cold blood if he felt like he had to, but other than that, he was great. You knew you could have gotten a husband that was so much worse, so although, you were still awkward around him, you tried to get used to him. You were married, after all.

“Do you have any plans for tomorrow?” he asked you one night when both of you were eating dinner in the spacious dining room of your manor.

“I have training at 10,” you answered. “But other than that, no. Why?”

“I was thinking maybe we could go out tomorrow night,” Junmyeon said in a voice so official, that it sounded as if he was proposing a business offer, and not asking you out on a date.

And yet you still felt yourself blush.

“Okay,” you said, not daring to look up from your plate.

You had no doubt that Junmyeon could tell that you got flustered every time you talked to him and yet he never called you out on it, making you appreciate him even more.

“Can I tell you something?” Junmyeon said.

You finally raised your eyes and nodded, slowly.

“But promise me you won’t get upset,” he added.

You nodded again, wordlessly promising, despite not really knowing what to expect from him.

“Last week one of my friends died,” he said. “We got attacked by some wanna-be gangsters and they shot him in the chest multiple times before I could react.”

“Oh, my God,” you gasped, despite promising him not to get upset. “I’m so sorry, Junmyeon.”

He nodded, acknowledging your compassion. “But the important thing, however, is what he said right before he died. He was married, but his marriage was pretty similar to ours.”

You quickly understood that this meant he was in an arranged marriage and therefore, not particularly close to his wife.

“Anyway, so right before he died, he asked me to tell his mother that he loved her,” Junmyeon continued. “So, I asked him, ‘What about your wife?’ and he told me – and I remember this part vividly – that he wasn’t sure if he even knew what his wife’s name was.”

This story raised a million questions in your head, the most prominent of which was, did Junmyeon think all arranged marriages were like that? Did he think two people in an arranged marriage pretended to be married just for show and, possibly, power, but they never actually loved each other?

This made you sad. You didn’t know why but you didn’t want him to think that way. It was a sad attitude and the last thing you wanted was for him to be sad.

“I don’t want a marriage like that,” Junmyeon said after a short pause. This jump-started your heart so hard that even your hands started to shake.

You were afraid to ask him what he meant by that, but you didn’t have to because he continued.

“And I can promise you that I’ll do everything I can to make sure our marriage – although existing against our wishes – is as great as it can be,” he said. “We might or might not be soulmates, but that doesn’t matter. We’ll work on it one date at a time. We won’t be just another statistic that proves that people in arranged marriages hate each other.”

Your entire body filled with warmth at this and suddenly you felt like a child on Christmas day. Sure, you weren’t in love with Junmyeon yet. But you knew that one day you’d be.

“I believe you,” you told him with a sincere smile. “I believe that we’ll make it work.”


Lay

Originally posted by katherine8595

The wedding wasn’t devastating. It was truly kind of bearable. You weren’t the biggest fan of Yixing, but you weren’t really against him either.

That is, until rival Mafia members placed a bomb in your parents’ house, killing them both, along with a couple of other relatives. Your little brother was still at school but the sight of his house burning left him shaken up. His crying voice, when he called you to tell you what happened, haunted you to this day.

You fought for the rights to look after your brother and won (with Yixing’s help, though you refused to admit it), and thus, he moved in with you. But he wasn’t the same. He wasn’t your little brother anymore. He closed off and only talked to you when it was absolutely necessary.

Yixing could see that you were upset but he didn’t know what to do about it. He tried to get you to open up but you ignored him no matter what he did, unintentionally hurting his feelings in the process. Somehow, you just couldn’t bear to look at him anymore, feeling as if it was his fault you weren’t at your parents’ house to protect them from the bomb.

And then one day, you woke up to screams coming from outside. With your heart nearly beating out of your chest, you walked to the window overlooking the backyard of your house to see what was making the noise. You had to sit down at the sight in front of you.

It was your little brother and Yixing, both chasing each other with water guns, reenacting a scene from a gangster movie that you have never seen. They were screaming cheerfully, laughing, and rolling around in the grass, their clothes completely soaked from the water already.

You didn’t think you could name a moment where your brother looked happier than he did right then, playing with Yixing.

Not losing the smile the entire morning, you found your little brother, when he finally returned home and changed into a different outfit.

“Hey!” you said happily. “Did you have fun this morning?”

“Lots!” your brother replied, giving you a smile that you haven’t seen in ages. You almost started to cry. “Yixing said he’ll teach me how to use real guns soon!”

“Oh?” you stopped smiling at this.

“Hey!” Yixing’s voice was suddenly heard down the hall. “Did I not tell you to keep it a secret?”

Your little brother gasped, not expecting him to overhear this. “I’m sorry, I just got so excited! You’ll still teach me, right?”

Yixing smiled, messing up your brother’s hair when he reached him. “Of course, I will. If your sister doesn’t kill me before I get a chance to do that.”

“Y/n wouldn’t do that,” your little brother said confidently. “She’s a good person.”

You saw Yixing smile at you but you were too occupied with your brother’s good mood to pay attention to anything else. Finally, once your brother ran off to prepare for breakfast, you raised your eyes to meet Yixing’s.

“Why are you doing this?” you asked with genuine curiosity.

“What, befriending your brother?” Yixing asked. You nodded. “I like him. He’s a cool guy. Also, you’re my wife and his legal guardian. That makes me his guardian, too. Maybe not by law, but by marriage, then. He’s my responsibility as well.”

You softened even more. “I couldn’t get him to open up ever since the tragedy happened and you just… he seems to really like you.”

“He does like me,” Yixing said, winking teasingly. “Unlike his sister.”

You scoffed. “Don’t make assumptions about things you don’t know.”

“Oh? So you do like me?”

“We’re married, Yixing.”

“That doesn’t answer my question.”

It was your turn to tease him. “Some questions are supposed to be left unanswered.”

And you walked away from him, heading to the kitchen, while he continued to stand there, confused about what you were feeling for him. He failed to realize that you were just as confused about your feelings as he was.

The feelings were neutral before, you were sure of that. And yet seeing him today forced some kind of creatures to come out to play in your stomach. You’ve heard people call them butterflies, but to you, it felt more like tiny t-rexes who clawed at your intestines whenever Yixing smiled at you.


Baekhyun

Originally posted by dazzlingkai

You were the real black sheep of the family. You couldn’t fight (seriously, you broke your foot every time you attempted to kick something), you couldn’t interrogate people, you had no talent to make new deals, and you couldn’t use guns.

You thought your parents would disown you, and in a way, they kind of did – by giving you away to the boy from a different Mafia family.

Afraid to make your new husband and his family see how useless you were, you avoided every single job assigned to you. You pretended to be sick. Then, you just disappeared for a few days and stayed at your friend’s house. Then, you actually got sick.

Finally, four months after the wedding, Baekhyun had had enough of this.

“What’s the problem?” he asked you. “You don’t want to work with me? With my family?”

You have not prepared for him to confront you about this, although you really should have seen it coming. Sooner or later, someone was bound to notice that you were not doing any work that was assigned to you.

“N-no,” you said, slowly. “I do. Of course, I do. I mean, I have to.”

“’Have to’ and ‘want to’ are two very different things, Y/n,” Baekhyun said. “I don’t want to force you to do anything you don’t want to do but you’re… you’re not doing anything at all. And you haven’t talked to anyone about it. Like, is something wrong? Do you just not want to do anything because that’s fine—”

“I want to do something,” you interrupted him confidently but then your voice faded. “I just don’t know how.”

Baekhyun heard you. “What do you mean?”

“I can’t do anything,” you said. “I start something and then I ruin everything. My family used to jokingly say that they should lock me up in a tower Rapunzel-style. Maybe that way I’d manage to find at least one thing I’d be good at.”

“That’s not a funny joke,” Baekhyun said with a straight face. “And I’m sure your family just didn’t have any patience. Come on, tell me one thing that they thought you were bad at.”

“Well, firearms, for starters,” you said. “I can’t fire a gun. My aim is way off.”

“Good!” Baekhyun said and then saw your frown. “I mean, it’s good that you told me. Now I know what’s up. Be up at seven tomorrow.”

“What? Why?”

“I’ll train you,” he said, shrugging his shoulders nonchalantly. “I’ll help you learn everything you’ve always wanted to learn. And I can already promise I will never bring you down, no matter how badly you do anything.”

“You don’t know what you’re getting yourself into,” you warned him.

“Yeah, they told me that before I married you,” Baekhyun said with a small smile. “But I guess I like challenges.”

For some reason, you smiled back. It would have been easy to find offense in his words but you knew they were true. You truly were a challenge (but then again, wasn’t everyone?) but no one ever bothered to take this challenge on before. And now this concerned boy – that was apparently told not to marry you – was more than ready to work on this challenge with resilience until he completed it.

For the first time in your life, you actually had hope that Baekhyun will turn out to be the person with enough patience to handle your every fail and praise your every win. You’ve never had a person like that in your life. Maybe you finally found him.


Chen

Originally posted by dazzlingkai

You strictly refused to ride cars. Your husband (you refused to call him your husband, too. Explaining to people that your parents forced you to marry, was embarrassing, so you chose not to talk about it at all) protested against this, saying that it was unsafe for you to walk everywhere but you ignored him. The air was already as polluted as it was, and you could never understand how people had enough patience to be stuck in traffic and not punch anyone.

So, yes, you preferred to walk, no matter the distance.

Thing was, wherever you walked, you always carried your earphones and listened to music at full volume, being completely oblivious to your surroundings. More than once, you missed your destination because you were humming along to a song, imagining yourself in a music video.

One particular Friday, you were in a restaurant, patiently listening to one of the Mafia heads from a different country. He spoke with a huge accent so it was hard to understand him. On top of that, you kept spacing out, making it even harder not to lose track of what he was saying.

Suddenly, you saw a person with a black coat and a face mask enter the restaurant. He passed the hostess - who politely asked him to take the mask off - and headed to the table next to yours, claiming he had reserved it. The hostess just gave up and brought him a menu.

That’s when you turned your head back to your companion since he had asked you a question. You had no idea what he had asked, but just as you were about to think of something to answer, you heard a scream.

“Look out!”

Startled, you turned to look at the source of the noise but you couldn’t understand where it came from because another noise interrupted the quiet atmosphere of the restaurant.

A shot.

It didn’t take you long to find who fired the shot. You turned your head to the left and were met face-to-face with Jongdae, who had just shot the man with the facemask next to you.

Before confusion clouded your brain, you managed to see that the masked man had a gun in his hand, too. Absolutely baffled, you turned back to look at Jongdae who had already made his way to you.

“Your meeting is over,” he said, glaring at your guest and then looking back at you. “I’m taking you home.”

“Jongdae—”

“Get up,” he said sternly. “We’re leaving.”

Apologizing to your confused companion, you followed the angry Jongdae out of the restaurant. Once you saw him open the door of his car for you to get in, you stopped.

“You know I don’t—”

“Do you know who the guy with the mask was?” Jongdae asked right away, looking as if he was already expecting you to protest.

“No,” you said. “Should I?”

“He was stalking you. For at least a week,” Jongdae said.

You gasped, feeling your stomach drop. “What? That makes no sense.”

“It makes a whole lot of sense,” he continued, not losing the angry expression on his face. “You walk everywhere and you’re never aware of your surroundings. That makes you an easy target. I assume he chose the restaurant to kill you in, because he wanted more attention.”

“He was going to kill me..?”

“Obviously. That’s why I killed him first.”

You stayed quiet, watching the man in front of you and trying to grasp the fact that he had just saved your life from a stalker that you didn’t even know you had.

“Get in the car,” Jongdae said, then. “You’re never walking anywhere alone again.”

“You can’t say that,” you protested again, but still stepped into the car.

“I can say anything I want. Your life was in danger,” he told you before closing the door of your car. “I’m not letting that happen again.”

While he jogged around the car to sit behind the wheel, you could only think about one thing. Jongdae had protected you. He saved you. And maybe it was just the adrenaline, but you felt as if he didn’t do it as a favor. He did that because you were his wife. And all of a sudden, you were no longer embarrassed of this title. You were proud of it.


Chanyeol

Originally posted by dazzlingkai

You only acted like you were married in public. At home, you stayed on separate floors and barely said anything if you accidentally ran into each other in the hallway. You weren’t sure if you liked it that way but Chanyeol wasn’t showing that much interest to act like an actual married couple, and you weren’t going to suggest doing that, either. Call it pride, if you’d like.

One night, though, during the birthday of Chanyeol’s father, all of your pride flew out of the window.

You arrived at the party a little late because your dress had a malfunction and Chanyeol was too impatient to wait until one of the seamstresses helped you fix it, so he went there alone. He didn’t even notice you when you finally arrived because he was busy. Busy entertaining at least five different girls that you’ve never seen before.

Feeling your heart drop to your stomach and then jump right back up again, as anger and irrational jealousy mixed in your blood, you made your way towards him.

“Good evening, ladies,” you announced yourself, concentrating on the girls and making all of them turn to look at you. “Have you tasted the lamb salad that they’re serving over there, at the other side of the room?”

All five of the girls exchanged glances and then turned to look at Chanyeol, who was watching you with a confused and a slightly amused expression.

“No,” one of the girls answered you. “We actually haven’t. We’ve been—”

“Oh, fantastic! I’m sure you’ll love the taste of it,” you said. The five girls still didn’t move, obviously not catching your hints. Finally, you lost your patience. “That’s your turn to scatter. Get lost. Fuck off.”

With shocked faces, all five of them quickly moved away from you and Chanyeol, and quickly disappeared into the crowd of people.

“What the hell was that about?” Chanyeol asked you right away.

You looked at him with innocent eyes. “What do you mean? I offered those girls to try the lamb salad across the room. It’s really good.”

Chanyeol resisted the urge to smirk. “You told them to fuck off.”

“Did I?” you continued to feign ignorance. “It must have slipped out by accident.”

“By accident, huh?” he said, suddenly standing closer to you. “I was pretty sure you were jealous.”

“What?” you said, your heart hammering in your chest at his close proximity. “I wasn’t jealous.”

Chanyeol hummed as he slowly leaned closer until you could feel his breath on your neck, forcing you to shiver involuntarily.

“It’s a shame,” he whispered. “I love it when you get jealous.”

He pulled away before you understood what happened, and walked away with a smirk, his cologne lingering in the air around you. You let out a breath that you didn’t know you were holding and watched him walk away from you. Suddenly, he turned his head over his shoulder, quickly meeting your eyes, and winking, while every girl in the room watched him.

You weren’t jealous. You were so much more than that.


D.O.

Originally posted by dazzlingkai

He didn’t look very dangerous and yet people were afraid of him. They crossed the street when they saw him. They closed their windows when they heard him drive by. They avoided him in every way possible.

You weren’t an exception, although, legally, you were his wife and he wasn’t supposed to ever hurt you. However, you couldn’t help but think that it wasn’t impossible. If he could kill helpless people that crossed him, he could kill you too.

And that was why for the first few months after the wedding, you slept in a different room that you locked every night.

One night, however, you heard a lot of suspicious noise downstairs and decided to investigate. Kyungsoo was supposed to be out working the whole weekend, so you grabbed your gun before you walked down the stairs.

Not wanting to startle the potential intruder, you didn’t turn the light on. Slowly, you walked down the hallway and then stopped when you saw a silhouette at the end of the hallway. It looked like a man and he had his back turned to you.

“Freeze!” you yelled, not finding a better word on such short notice.

The man did just that. But then he turned around a second later and you almost fired.

You were glad you didn’t, though.

“Y/n?” Kyungsoo’s voice called out and your body had gone cold. “What are you doing awake?”

“I…” you lowered your gun, immediately. “I’m sorry. I thought someone was in the house. I-I’m really sorry.”

You saw him slowly make his way towards you, and your entire body started to shake.

He stopped a few feet away from you, however, and turned the lightswitch on the wall next to him, finally illuminating the hallway.

“Are you afraid of me?” he asked, carefully watching you.

You swallowed, not knowing what the right answer to this question would be. Your silence was enough for Kyungsoo to understand everything.

“Why?” he asked. “Why are you afraid of me? I could never hurt you.”

“Y-yes, you could,” you said in a quiet voice, looking down.

Immediately, he lifted your chin, so your eyes met again. “Y/n. My job is to protect you. And to teach you not to say ‘freeze’ when you see strangers in your house, but that’s hardly the point right now. Point is, it hurts me to know that you’re afraid of me.”

It hurts him?

You stared at him as if in a daze.

“Please don’t be afraid of me,” he said, gently moving his hand from your chin to caress your cheek. “Please.”

He touched you as if you were the most fragile piece of china ever created. He looked at you as if you’d break if someone glared at you.

And suddenly, you couldn’t understand how you didn’t see it before. He wasn’t dangerous and scary. He was human. And he’d never hurt you.


Kai

Originally posted by dazzlingkai

Your domestic life was far from exciting. After you got married, it felt as though you became the main character in the movie Housewife By Day, Wife of a Gangster By Night.

Although you weren’t a big fan of what Jongin did, you stayed quiet about it. Not just because he was your husband and your father warned you beforehand to put up with whatever your husband did, but also because the sight of Jongin with a gun was enough to cause your heartbeat to speed up.

You didn’t think much of this, though. So you got excited after seeing a guy with a gun, so what? He was an attractive person and frankly, you were always into bad boys. It was normal. No actual feelings were there.

Or so you told yourself.

One day, you asked him to borrow his car, because yours had broken down, so you could go to the store to buy some vegetables for dinner (cooking was always your hobby and although Jongin insisted you let the professional chef do the job, you never listened) but Jongin had other plans.

“I’ll drive you,” he said. “Just wait a second.”

You were about to protest and tell him that there was no need for two people to go to the store but he got up from the chair and ran to the garage before you could open your mouth.

A couple of minutes later, you heard someone signal you outside, so, grabbing your jacket, you walked out of the house and then stopped dead at the sight in front of you.

Jongin was leaning against his favorite custom-made, matte black Harley-Davidson with a grin on his face and a helmet in his hands.

“Hop on,” he told you.

“Jongin… I literally need to buy carrots,” you said. “I’m not driving to the supermarket on a motorcycle.”

“Carrots or drugs, doesn’t matter. You’re no longer just a simple city girl,” he said. “You’re my wife now. And my wife rides in style.”

“Can I ride in style in an actual car? Like, with seat-belts on?” you continued, not moving from the same spot.

Jongin laughed. “Come on, Y/n, don’t pretend you don’t want to ride it. Feel the wind in your hair and the material of my jacket when you wrap your arms around me when I drive.”

You swallowed deeply at that last part, your stomach already burning with excitement.

“Come here,” he said, patting the back of the motorcycle.

And he didn’t have you tell you again. You groaned dramatically, forcing him to laugh, and grabbed the helmet from him before getting on the back of the motorcycle. You didn’t do anything with your hands, though, almost afraid to touch him.

“Do you want to fall off?” Jongin asked loudly, as he brought the engine of the Harley to life.

“Not really,” you answered just as loudly.

“Then hold onto me,” he asked loudly. “I know you want to.”

You knew he smirked at that last part but you couldn’t see it because he had his back turned to you. After whispering a quick ‘fuck you’, you wrapped your arms around him at the same second that he pulled out of the driveway of the house and sped down the street.

The feeling of him right there, under your fingerprints, while the two of you flew down the street, the scenery blurring around you, was enough to break you away from the lie you’ve been living in.

The feelings were there. All the damn feelings were there.


Sehun

Originally posted by katherine8595

You knew every Mafia family had their own traditions. Your family was a little more conservative in comparison to Sehun’s, which is why, your parents quietly cried when they had to give you away, while one of Sehun’s great-aunts sobbed as if he was going to his death. And it really should have been the other way around, considering that you were about to enter a clan of people who showed their loyalty to their Mafia family in a different way than you were used to.

You made a vow in front of the other family members, while Sehun’s family got tattoos.

They didn’t force a needle on you right after the wedding though, they gave you some time to adjust. And still, the first couple of months were terrifying to you.

Sehun tried to relieve your stress of living in a new place by introducing you to every family member he had and then showing embarrassing pictures of them in the family albums. It worked for a short while and you truly felt a little bit more relaxed, until the day you were supposed to get a tattoo came.

What you didn’t know, however, was that traditionally, the husband was supposed to give his wife the tattoo of the family symbol. You only found out about this, when you were already sitting the leather-covered chair, waiting for your doom. That is, the tattoo.

“Is it going to hurt?” you asked Sehun while he cleaned your wrist with rubbing alcohol.

“A little,” he said, honestly. “I’ll try to be gentle, though, I promise.”

“It’s not you I’m afraid of,” you told him. “It’s the needle.”

Sehun gave you an encouraging smile. “I’ll stop the needle if the pain gets too much for you, okay? Just tell me. Or give me a sign, like a nod or something.”

You nodded.

“What, it hurts already?” he tried to joke but saw you nod again. He released your wrist immediately. “Does it really hurt? Maybe you’re allergic to—”

“No, Sehun,” you said, then. “I’m just terrified of this. I’m afraid it’s going to hurt even more when I’m this scared.”

“Well, relaxing definitely helps,” Sehun said. “I’ve practiced this before and it’s much easier to tattoo a person who’s not so tense.”

“Well, I can’t relax. So, you’ll have to manage.”

He smiled again. “I’ll manage. I just wish you weren’t so uncomfortable.”

“I don’t have a choice but to do this,” you said. “So I have to get over my fear.”

Sehun took your wrist again and you thought the tattoo process was about to begin, but instead of a needle, you felt his fingers softly caress the skin of your wrist.

“You’re still part of the family, with or without the tattoo,” Sehun told you sincerely.

You watched him for a moment and then inhaled deeply. “I know. But I want you to do this.”

He felt a little better after hearing you say this, so he grabbed the needle with a lot more confidence. He knew he could draw the symbol perfectly, he’s done it before. But the fact that you were so nervous, made him nervous.

And yet, even when the needle came in contact with your skin, you didn’t feel any excruciating pain that you had expected. You weren’t sure if it was because Sehun kept checking up on you every few seconds and talking to you about the funny things that happened to other people when they were getting their tattoos, or because your hand had simply gone limp.

Either way, you enjoyed this process a lot more than you expected.  

The way Sehun kissed your tattoo once he had finished it and wrapped a bandage around it, made you realize that although at first, you had feared to get the symbol of the Family (because you knew you weren’t related to any of them by blood and the divorce rate was still pretty high), now you were ready to do anything, as long as Sehun would be there to hold your hand through it.


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His Warmth (M)

Word Count: 3532
Member: Jimin x Reader
Genre: Fluff & Smut
Warnings: Cum-play, Biting, Lots of cute bc I’m in love with Jimin

It’s been two months since your boyfriend went on tour and you haven’t been able to see him, so when you unexpectedly wake up to him in your bed you just can’t seem to keep your hands to yourself.

c.

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dating tom holland...pt. 3
  • if i’m being honest, he’d probably smell amazing 24/7
  • not even his cologne just like his scent, there’s just something so comforting about him too
  • the day before he had to leave for press or filming he’d cling onto you like a koala
    • “I’m not letting go until I absolutely have to,” he’d whine as you tried to push him off
    • “tom I have to pee,”
    • “no you don’t that’s false,”
    • “GET OFF ME BEFORE BAD THINGS HAPPEN”
  • reluctantly letting go of you so you could go pee
  • hearing your name through the door
    • [Y/N]!!!”
    • “come baaaack”
    • “….I can hear you pee” followed by loud giggling as you flush the toilet and quickly was your hands
  • he promises to call, text, and facetime you as often as possible when he’s away
  • and obviously he sticks to his promises cause he’s that guy™
    • “I miss yoooouuuu”
    • “harrison doesn’t cuddle like you”
    • “I miss your cooking” 
  • reuniting with each other is both your favourite things
  • you’d be waiting at the airport, trying to be as lowkey as possible since there was already a swarm of paparazzi’s
  • him noticing you as soon as he stepped through those doors
  • running and jumping into his arms as he threw down all his belongings
    • multiple kisses all over your face
    • whispering “i’m gonna make up for all our lost time when we get home”
  • and he so does
  • not being able to keep his hands off you the second you step through the door
    • “what gotten into you, tom?” you ask as he nips at your neck and collarbones
    • he freezes before shyly looking up at you, “I-I had a dream…about you…” he trails off
  • you nearly moan at the thought of him having dirty dreams about you
  • sloppy makeup sex 
    • both your actions would be so rushed, just wanting to be connected with each other
    • “fuck, I missed you so much babygirl,” 
    • him trying to make you come at the same time as him
  • as happy as he is to see you, he’s also exhausted and starving so you tell him to take a nap as you make something for dinner
    • “but I wanna nap with my girl,” he’d try to coax 
    • “after dinner,” you bargained as he let out a huff but agreed
  •  waking him up with head scratches 
    • whining when you stop and throw the blankets off him
    • not at all fazed by his naked body
    • him being surprised at you being unfazed because ????? 
  • him always trying to get you naked
    • “let eat dinner…..naked,”
    • “let’s play strip monopoly!” “not a chance tom,” “strip uno?”
  • “tom no”
  • “TOM YES”
  • he can be such a child, hiding all your left shoes or the toothpaste because it’s only a minor inconvenience 
  • whenever you’re at home with him and his family he becomes so much more british
    • “tom I can’t understand what you’re saying anymore”
    • “WHADYA MEAN M8″
  • him getting genuinely jealous when you pay more attention to tessa than him
    • “I’m spider-man though!!!!” he’d whine as you rolled around with tessa
    • having enough of your shit and picking you up, throwing you over his shoulder and bringing you to him room
  • when tom is sick its so much worse because he’s so much more clingy but you also don’t wanna get sick
    • “just a kiss on the nose, please darling” he’d beg as you sighed, finally giving him
    • tilting his head up so you end up meeting his lips instead
    • “if you get me sick i’m gonna kill you, holland”
  • you sitting on his lap because he loves having his arms wrapped around your body
  • if you were in public he’d always be checking behind your back for paparazzi’s because it was date night 
  • baking together becomes a tradition with you guys
    • him smearing icing down your nose before licking it
    • “you taste amazing, sweetheart,” him winking before you choke on a breath  
  • you lying in his lap in bed on nights you can’t sleep
  • so he begins playing with your hair and softly singing to because he knows that’s what puts you out like a light
  • waking you up with slopping kisses all over your face
  • you’re not a morning person so you don’t appreciate being woken up and put your pillow on your face
  • so he ends up eating you out and you can’t even get angry cause it was one of the best orgasms ever
    • “still hate me for waking you up?” he asks cheekily as you roll your eyes playfully
    • that day ends up full of sex, cuddles, and food
  • working out with him but he just ends up getting distracted by all your movements 
  • which leads to post workout sex
    • “your ass looks amazing in those pants, but it looks even better without them, darling,”
  • he secretly loves being domestic with you
  • like he loves doing laundry or cleaning the apartment and even going grocery shopping because he’s imagining your future
    • “you ever think about us? in the future?” he’d ask one day and he immediately regrets it thinking you’ll start freaking out
    • “all the time, bubs,” you say with a smile and he thinks his heart is gonna leap out of his chest
  • his parents and brothers already call you an old married couple
  • both of you agreeing that you’ve still got a long ways ahead of you before you wanna get married or start a family 
  • but you both want to 
  • you’re both each others rocks, always there no matter what time it is
  • sweet little kisses throughout the day 
    • like on the nose
    • or the forehead
    • of the top of your head
  • if you’re wearings rings he’s 100 percent going to play with them when he’s holding your hand 
  • he makes sure to bring you back a souvenir from each place he visits, even if it’s a magnet you love it so much 
  • sharing headphones while waiting for the plane to start boarding 
  • playing ‘guess the song’
    • “i lose every time though,” he’d whine but you just stuck your tongue out
    • purposely playing songs he doesn’t know just to see him pout
    • “you’re just too cute,” “i’m not cute, i’m hot,” “okay, tommy, whatever you say,”
  • him getting tipsy on the plane 
    • “let’s join the mile high club,” while giggling
    • “tom i’m trying to watch a movie,”
    • “and i’m trying to get laid,”
  • he’s actually such a child sometimes and you have to threaten him with no more sex until he finally calms down
  • if he has a random question he will ask you as if you have the answer
    • “how long are giraffes necks????”
    • “how do dolphins sleep with one eye open??”
  • poking your cheeks whenever you’re ignoring him 
    • “pay attention to meeeee,”
  • lying in between his legs on his chest because he insists on having you as close to him as possible
  • YOU’RE BOTH HEAD OVER HEELS FOR EACH OTHER AND ADORE ONE ANOTHER 

A/N: i died and came back then died again i h8 myself

anonymous asked:

I’m not really sure what I’m doing but I really like the ficlets you write and love reading anything that’s about Stiles being underestimated by another pack or at a convention and then being a complete bamf so idk if I did this right but could you maybe do something like that pretty please?

Don’t mess with the emissaries.

That was rule number one of these conventions, drilled into Phoebe’s head since the first year she attended: do not mess with another pack’s emissary.

Apparently not all packs received the same annual lecture and accompanying etiquette quiz.

Question #1: What do you never mess with while at the convention?

A. Another pack’s emissary

There was no option B.

There was no need for an option B, because the only person who would ever, in their wildest dreams, choose anything other than A was looking for an all out pack war, and no sane person went looking for those.

Also it was against convention rules and it was one of the few ways to never be invited back, which cut that pack off from a lot of valuable networking opportunities. Being blacklisted by the convention was a surefire way to never get any allies anywhere, because news traveled fast in the supernatural community. 

Really fast.

Anything that happened at the convention was known from coast to coast by midnight, internationally by sunrise, depending on time zones. Literally anything.

Hotels weren’t properly soundproofed by any means, so every argument, hookup, standoff, and blowout were on display for anyone within supernatural earshot–and everyone else was filled in over the waffle bar the next morning. Werewolves were a gossipy bunch; it wasn’t their finest trait.

So naturally, when a commotion started brewing in one of the conference rooms across the lobby, everyone rushed to get a firsthand view, and Phoebe was no exception.

She wasn’t proud of it, but secondhand accounts were notoriously unreliable, and honestly, the convention was boring. She hated networking, the hotel food was bland, and her alpha had strictly forbid the attending pack members from ordering any movies. She was a little desperate for entertainment.

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170911 JYP’s Party People: Kyungsoo fanaccounts

@imhy_J: Before they sang Boomerang, Kyungsoo went ‘eh eh eh’ to warm up his voice…. the audience applauded 

@o_duck3: Kyungsoo said his name is Do Kyungsoo, he’s average and not good at anything as a brief introduction. Later, Park Jinyoung asked EXO if they thought another member had forgotten or misspoke about something. Baekhyun raised his hand immediately to say that Kyungsoo is really good at acting, that there are people who know Do Kyungsoo without hearing about D.O.. After he filled out his case with praise he turned to look at Kyungsoo and smiled. If EXO as they really are was caught on camera today, it was that!!!

@sweetdream0112: After the self-introductions, Park Jinyoung asked if there was anything they weren’t able to say or wanted to add, so Baekhyun said that Kyungsoo wasn’t done yet. He really looked after Kyungsoo, asking along the lines of why didn’t you say anything about how well you sing or act or dance? TT Kyungsoo got shy and I died

@sweetdream0112: When they were asked who was the funniest member, they said Kyungsoo ㅋㅋㅋ Chanyeol specified Kyungsoo was the funniest because in a day he’ll say a total of ten things but will make them laugh out loud at least once ㅋㅋㅋ apparently he’s completely 4D

@sweetdream0112, @o_duck3, @crepe_0408: Park Jinyoung asked if Baekhyun and Kyungsoo got along when their personalities were so different, as Kyungsoo was so calm and Baekhyun was so animated. They looked at each other and laughed, saying they did get along well. Doesn’t the quieter party get stressed? Kyungsoo said no, he feels better instead. Baekhyun added that when he’s too much for Kyungsoo, the back of his neck will get grabbedㅋㅋ

@o_duck3: When Jongdae was singing Sunday Morning, Kyungsoo was so excited he was moving his body back and forth and singing along! It was so nice to see how happy he looked whenever the other members did anything and I died when Kyungsoo sang My Lady

@luv_baek_: Ah also when Kyungsoo sang My Lady, Park Jinyoung looked like he’d fallen head over heels in love ㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋ I can’t forget what he said after Kyungsoo had finished ㅋㅋㅋㅋ He sang so well •°(° >⌓<°)°•. 

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The Spider Tattoo (Peter Parker x Reader) Soulmate AU

Peter Parker x Fem!Reader

*Please don’t plagiarize my work, thank you :3*

Summary: You hate the idea of soulmate tattoo’s, probably because there’s a giant fricking spider on your hip that moves, as most soulmate tattoos do. But see, most soulmate tattoos aren’t huge fucking spiders, so you have the right to be freaked out.

Warnings: Lots of swearing. More than usual. Oops. Requested by @crowleys-poppet-queen-of-asgard

Word Count: 1,072


Soulmates were stupid. Worst idea ever. Who the hell even thought of them? From what you learned in health class, every person has a tattoo appear on their skin when they find what they love best, and that tattoo is on that exact place on their soulmate’s body, meaning somewhere in the world there was a person with an tiny typewriter right behind their ear.

“So why the fuck do I have a giant ass spider on my hip?” You scream at no one in particular, eyeing the ugly thing through your mirror. You pull your sweatshirt down again, covering the spider. The only good part about it was that it resembled Spiderman’s symbol, one of your favorite heroes. On the con side though, whenever a soulmate was feeling strong emotions, their tattoo would move. So once or twice a day, the giant ass spider would move. You cringe at the thought.

You grab your backpack and angrily shove your books into your backpack, muttering rapidly in a mocking voice. “Soulmates are a beautiful thing, they said.”

The backpack was slung over your shoulder as you stomped out the door. “You’ll love getting your tattoo, they said.

“Well they can go fuck themselves!” You scream into the empty house, slamming the door behind you.

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There’s My Girl (Tom Holland Imagine)

Originally posted by tom-hollcnd

request: “Would you mind writing an imagine where tom comes home late to find the reader asleep in the office from studying and so he carries the reader up the stairs and they wake up in his arms and it’s just cute and fluffy and leads to cuddling or something?? Thank you so much!!!! Love your writing btw!!” (requested by anon)

short summary: ^^

length: 941 words

warnings: none

A/N: just a quick/short little thing, i was feeling a bit inspired last night tbh sorry it’s shit (also ik i’m doing requests out of order i’m also sorry for that too)


Tom had had a particularly long day, as both of his flights back home had been delayed for several hours each. He was a bit peeved considering how excited he was to see you earlier in the day and take you out for dinner, but those plans came to a halt seeing as it was currently 2:15AM.

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(death tw) i love the other members with all my heart and i’m going to support them because shinee means the world to me. they’re so, so strong. stronger than i could ever hope to be. but this is probably the worst that i’ve felt since the day he died. honestly, i thought that the domes would be cancelled and they would prepare something for their anniversary. as selfish as it sounds i was fine with that because it would give me more time to prepare emotionally but everything is coming so fast and so soon and this makes it all the more real to me. he’s gone. he’s never coming back and seeing jinki, kibum, minho and taemin on stage without him will be a heartbreaking reminder of that for me. i hate myself because i’m jealous that we’ll see the others and we’ll never see jonghyun again and i know how selfish that is but i know that it was because jonghyun was my #person (or however you want to put it) for almost seven years. there’s so many things that i hoped for and was looking forward to for jonghyun (like how he wanted to have kids and get married, how he wanted to produce more) but none of that is never going to happen. and i feel at a loss knowing that someone that i cared about so much and gave me so much happiness was suffering as much as he was.

it feels like everyone is speeding forward and i’m being left behind in the dust. i’ll try to be strong but i feel crushed right now. it makes everything too real. i know that he’ll forever be a part of the group in spirit but i’m not ready for a shinee-less jonghyun physically. seeing the empty space on stage meant for him is going to be so painful that … i don’t really know the proper way to phrase what i’m feeling so i’ll save you the trouble of having to decipher my gibberish. i’m sorry. i’m a complete miserable mess at the moment but that’s where my head space is. i feel nothing and everything at the same time. i just cried through three consecutive episodes of arrested development. i figured i’d be completely honest for once on here or not try to be strong for the sake of others because… it’s the reality of the matter for me. maybe everything will feel better in the morning but, for the time being, i feel pretty broken up. ur admin is a mess.

Je T’aime, Mon Cher Eddie

For @time-for-tozier who came up with this idea, I hope you like it!!

Eddie watched as the clock’s minute hand moved towards the number 12, making a ticking noise as it wet round. He was so fixated that he jumped when the bell rang, the cue for people around him to pack up and leave the room.

He slammed his yellow note book shut and shoved it, and his pencil, into his backpack, before running out of the classroom to meet up with the other losers.

He sprinted down the hallways, bumping into several people and nearly tripping twice, before he reached the door. He swung the door open and walked to the bike rack around the side of the school.

“Hey Eddie,” Ben called to him as he walked over.

“Hey guys,” Eddie took in the positions of his friends. Mike was sat on the ground, fiddling with his bike, it kept breaking. Ben was sat on a bench about a meter away from the bike rack, a book resting open on his lap. Beverly was sitting on her bike seat, hands already gripping the handlebars as if she was in a hurry to go. Bill and Stan were stood next to each other, however, Eddie noticed, much too close to be considered normal. And Richie, well, he was being his usual self. He was hung upside down on one the metal bannister of a nearby stair case, dark hair brushing the ground.

“Eds! You finally arrived!” Richie near shouted bouncing his way back over to the group. “Can we go now?”

The losers collectively rolled their eyes and grabbed their bikes, climbing on and cycling towards the woods.

Their was a field there that they had claimed as their new hangout. It was completely secluded and surrounded by trees. In the spring, the ground was covered in daisies, Richie loved it, and prided himself on making “the best daisy chains in Derry”. In the Summer and Autumn, the grass was green and soft. And in the Winter, the Loser’s decided to just hand out at each other’s houses instead, with the careful avoidance of the Tozier, Marsh and Kaspbrak residences.

They were all laying on the grass. Beverly had her head resting on Ben’s lap as he sat cross legged playing with her hair. Stan and Bill were laying shoulder to shoulder, Mike was spread out like a starfish, and Richie was resting his head on Eddie’s stomach.

They were peaceful.

“Richie, I couldn’t help but to notice that you were in my French class this morning.” Bev spoke up, breaking the silence.

She knew there had to be a reason behind his sudden appearance in the class. She knew that she took it so that one day, when she was old enough, she could move to France and never look back. She knew that Stan’s parents wanted him to focus more on his religion. She knew that Ben was already fluent in the language and didn’t need to take a class. She knew that Bill found it too hard because of his stutter. She knew that Mike and Eddie simply didn’t want to take the subject, seeing no reason for it.

So what was Richie’s reason?

“You take French?” Eddie chuckled, sitting up. “Since when?”

“Well, obviously since this morning dipshit. I already know how to say some stuff. Such as,” Richie cleared his throat. “Ta mère aime ça dans le cul.”

Bev’s head shot up. “Beep Beep Richie.”

“W-what did he say?” Bill asked.

“Do you really want me to tell you?” Bev whined. The rest of the group, bar Richie and Ben, nodded. She sighed. “He said “your mother likes it up the ass.”

Groans of “Richie”, and “really?” We passed around as Richie smirked.

“Hey Rich? Do you know anything that’s not rude?” Eddie asked.

“Umm yeah,” Richie replied. “Eddie, tu as de beaux yeux.” (You have beautiful eyes)

“What does that mean?”

“Ahh, my dear Eddie Spaghetti, that is a secret.”

“Don’t call me that. Bev? Can you tell me what he said?” Eddie asked Beverly, who was staring at Richie with a strange look on her face. She stared for a few more moments before turning to Eddie.

“Sorry Eddie, I don’t know what he said.”

————

The next morning Richie bounced into school with too much energy for 7am on a Tuesday.

“Good morning, mes petits choux.” He smiled, leaning his chin on Eddie’s head.

“Richie, if I may ask, why did you just call us ‘your little cabbages’?” Ben questioned.

“I did it because I felt like it.” Just then the bell rang for class.

“Um, Richie? Can I talk you you for a sec? In private?” Beverly asked. Richie nodded, he loved the girl like family, they both dealt with similar issues in their home lives. “Do you like Eddie? You know, as in like him?”

Richie blushed. “No, where did you get that idea?”

“You’re always hugging him, you never stop staring at him, and yesterday you told him, in French, that he had beautiful eyes.”

“You said you didn’t understand what I said!”

“Well I lied, I guessed that you didn’t really want me to tell him, otherwise you would have simply said it in English.” She sighed. “Richie, what’s the real reason you started taking French class? You know I’m not going to judge you.”

Richie sighed. “I’ve been dealing with so much at home and then I come to school and he,” Richie leant back against the wall. “He makes me feel safe, and, I dunno, loved I guess? I just wanted a way to tell him how I feel and explain what’s happening at home. But it was way too painful to say it all in English, so I thought it’d be easier to tell him in another language.”

“Oh, Richie.” Beverly wrapped him in a hug. “That’s so sweet.” Richie gave her a half smile, and they began walking to their first class, which happened to be French.

———-

Eddie was just dozing off when he hears the taps at his window. At first he was scared that it was a leper, or a murderer, but he was assured it wasn’t when someone spoke up from behind the glass and curtains.

“Eddie? You awake?” Eddie pushed he covers off and got out of bed, he walked over to the window and opened the curtains.

The person at his window was Richie.

“C-can I come in?” Eddie could see the tears making their way steadily down Richie’s cheeks. He pushed the window open as quietly as he could and Richie clambered in.

“Rich, are you okay? What happened?” Instead of the answer Eddie knew he wasn’t going to get, Richie clutched him in a hug, openly sobbing.

Eddie guided Richie over to his bed and lates him down so that Richie’s head was resting above his heart. He never got answers, but he knew how to calm his best friend down. He liked listening to Eddie’s heartbeat, to confirm he wasn’t alone, and he like it when Eddie ran his fingers through his hair.

That’s exactly what Eddie was doing when Richie stopped crying and mumbled something.

“I’m sorry? I didn’t catch that.”

“Je t'aime. S’il te plaît, ne me quitte jamais.” (I love you. Please never leave me.)

Richie fell asleep soon after that, Eddie had no idea what the sleeping boy had said to him.

Over the next few months, Richie refused to stop talking in French whilst around Eddie. Beverly noticed he would constantly be blushing whenever Richie spoke the foreign words, in a thick accent. All of the Losers agreed that it was The only good impression Richie Tozier had ever done. During these months, Bev had to put up with Richie’s constant pining for Eddie.

She would always catch him calling Eddie a ‘magnifique petit tournesol’ (gorgeous little sunflower) or telling Eddie that he ‘avait l'air si mignon dans ce pull’ (looked so cute in that sweater’. He even said ‘Mon Amour.’ (My love) a few times

She was fed up of it. She knew without a doubt that Eddie had the same feelings towards Richie. So, during their 5th period geography class, Bev gave Richie a stern talking to.

“You need to tell him.”

“What?”

“Eddie! You need to tell him how you feel! I’m like 99% sure he reciprocates your feelings.”

“Yes Bev, but what about the 1% hmm?” Beverly rolled her eyes, they spent the rest of the lesson in silence.

A few weeks passed and Richie and Eddie found themselves alone at Loser’s Meadow, as the gang had dubbed it, watching the sun set.

“Eddie, I’m about to ramble in French and you just need to listen, you don’t need to understand.”

Eddie furrowed his brow. “Oh, okay.” He secretly loved it when Richie spoke French, however, he’d never admit it.

“Vous ne comprenez pas un mot que je dis en ce moment, et honnêtement? Je pense que c'est une bonne chose.

(You don’t understand a word im saying right now, and honestly? I think thats a good thing.)

J'avais besoin d'un moyen de pouvoir te dire ce que je ressens sans que tu me détestes.

(I needed a way to be able to tell you how i feel without you hating me.)

Parce que je sais que tu ne m'aimes pas en retour. Qui pourrait m'aimer de retour? Je suis un morceau de merde sans valeur.

(Because I know you don’t love me back. Who could love me back? I’m a worthless piece of shit.)

Vous voyez, vous n'avez absolument aucune idée de ce que je dis. En ce moment, tes joues sont d'un rouge vif avec combien tu rougis, et ton sourire n'a jamais été aussi beau.

(See, you have absolutely no idea what I’m saying. Right now, your cheeks are bright red with how much you’re blushing, and your smile has never been more beautiful.)

Tant que je continue à sourire et à parler, ce regard restera sur votre visage. Je ne veux jamais que tu arrêtes de sourire.

(As long as I keep smiling and talking, that look will stay on your face. I never want you to stop smiling.)

Ok, maintenant pour la vraie merde.

(Okay, now for the real shit.)

Eddie Kaspbrak, je t'aime depuis que nous avons neuf ans. Vous avez toujours été mon refuge, pour les nuits où il n'est pas sûr de rentrer à la maison, ou j'en ai fini avec le monde.

(Eddie Kaspbrak, I have loved you since we were 9 years old. You have always been my safe haven, for nights when it isn’t safe to go home, or I’m just done with the world.)

Vous êtes la seule personne à qui je fais confiance. Sauf ça. C'est la seule chose que vous ne saurez jamais, parce que je sais que vous ne ressentirez jamais la même chose.

(You are the one person I trust everything to. Except this. This is the one thing that you’ll never know, because I know you’ll never feel the same.)

Je t'aime Eddie Kaspbrak, je t'aime.

(I love you Eddie Kaspbrak, I love you.)”

Eddie giggled. “What the hell did you just say?”

“Oh, um, just a very detailed description of your mom’s vagina. I can retell it in English if you’d like?”

“Beep beep Richie.” Eddie said whilst laughing, as Richie sat admiring him, a wistful expression on his face.

A few days later saw Richie climbing into Eddie’s window at 3am with a bust lip and a black eye and tears streaming down his cheeks.

Without having to ask, Eddie pulled him into his bed and wrapped his arms around the crying boy. Richie wouldn’t stop muttering something in French until he fell asleep.

“Je t'aime.” Eddie made himself a promise that he’d look those words up as soon as the library was open tomorrow.

As soon as Richie left the next morning, Eddie pulled on a Red sweatshirt, one of Richie’s that he’d left behind years ago, and some shorts. He ran out of the house, making sure to kiss his mother goodbye before he left, and raced to the library.

He walked in and asked the receptionist to point him towards the ‘languages’ section.

He grabbed himself the first French dictionary he could find and flipped straight to the ‘T’ chapter, he already knew that ‘Je’ mean ‘I’.

Eddie gasped when he read the meaning. He dropped the book, causing a loud thud, and ran straight for the exit. He clambered back onto his bike and sped down the streets. He knew where Richie would be. The out of use highway bridge. He would always go there on a Saturday to smoke, listen to The Smiths and get away from his Parents.

Eddie threw his bike down as soon as he arrived, taking a puff from his asthma inhaler. “Richie?” He called out.

“Eddie?” He looked up to see Richie sat on the bridge’s ledge, feet swinging backwards and forwards. Eddie began to run up the hill towards the dark haired boy, whilst said boy stumbled down towards him. They met halfway.

“Eds, what are you doing here? Aren’t you supposed to be babysitting your mother or something.”

“Je t'aime aussi.” Eddie stated, not even bothering to tell Richie off for calling him Eds.

“What?” Richie looked unsure of what he’d just heard.

“Je t’aime aussi.” Eddie took a breath. “I love you too.”

Richie wasted no time in pulling Eddie in by his waist, connecting their lips. Eddie fisted his hands in the collar of Richie’s shirt. They pulled away a few moments later, in need of air, and rested their foreheads together.

This felt right. This felt like home.