matt-dillon-trash  asked:

Hmu with some Jally headcanons!!

Yes senpai

-they’re not big on PDA
-firstly johnny’s too shy and dally just doesn’t like it
-they hold hands a lot though
-watching movies at the drive in every night
-getting a shitload of fries everyday
-sharing a milkshake
-and yes with two fucking straws
-whenever Johnny’s parents are being dicks
-so always
-he stays over at dallys place
-so remember how I said they’re not big on PDA
-behind closed doors
-hot damn
-they love neck kisses
-they also spoon
-don’t fight me on that
-Johnny is little spoon
-Johnny always wears Dallys clothes
- “when’d you buy that flannel Johnny?”
- “I didn't”
- “…okay”
-Dallys always jumping in to be Johnny’s hero
-over the stupidest things
- “sorry sir we don’t sell chicken nuggets here…”
- “is there a problem here Johnny?”
- “what no…”
- “if Johnny wants chicken nuggets he’ll fucking get chicken nuggets”
- “but sir we don’t sell…”
- “do I need to repeat myself?”
-Dallas hates Johnny’s parents
-Like a burning hatred
-more than anyone else
-He once punched Mr Cade in the face
-Just like that
-Ran up to him in the middle of the street
-just punched him and ran away
- “why’d you do that Dallas?”
- “I didn’t like the way he was walking”
- “wtf”
- “he had an attitude”

winchestersinthetardisin221b  asked:

Just out of curiosity, what's going on with the Chaotic Neutral Trio (Mare, Mad, and Starlight) at the moment?

“I like the way you walk, honey,” some guy calls after Peevils.

Mare disappears from where he was walking beside her and reappears behind the guy, “And I like the way your guts would spill everywhere if I let my buddy Mad here dissect you like a frog.” With the power of his mist, Mare shows the creep just that, and he then runs screaming away.

Mad snorts and tucks his scalpel away. “I thought you were actually going to let me have that one.”

“Boys,” Peevils chides. “As if I can’t handle scumbags like that myself.”

“You can,” Mare says, popping up beside her again, “but you got the last one. So it was my turn!”

The Painful Wait. PART 3 (DarylxReader)

Hope y'all enjoyed part two! Here’s part three✌🏼
Y/N and Daryl have finally been reunited, but Daryl has fallen ill due to exhaustion and infected scars. Hershel and Maggie tend him back to health, much to Y/N’s relief. The two finally address their feelings for each other and the harsh words they exchanged.

Warnings- strong language, implied smut, angst, fluff, mentions of abuse.

“I thought I lost you.” I sob.

“You couldn’t lose me if you tried, Darlin’.” He chuckles breathlessly.

Daryl begins to stumble slightly, so I unwrap my legs from around his waist and push some strands of hair out of his eyes, which are fluttering open and shut.

“Daryl? Baby, you alright?” I ask, my voice laced with concern.

“I… I can’t…”

Daryl collapses to the earth, his head smacking onto a log in the process.

“Daryl? Daryl! Daryl, wake up! Oh God, no! No! Rick! Rick! Michonne! Glenn! Maggie, somebody! Help!” I scream, kneeling at his side and placing his head in my lap.

Rick and Glenn speed over, Hershel following shortly after.

“Hershel, please help him! Do something,” I weep.

“Y/N, I’m gonna do everythin’ I can, but right now, I need you to give him some space and go back inside.” Hershel instructs.

“What? No, no, I’m staying, I need to be with him!” I argue.

“Glenn, will you please?” Hershel orders.

Glenn grabs me from behind and drags me backwards to keep me away from Daryl. I struggle and thrash around, desperately trying to escape Glenn’s hold, wearing myself out and eventually letting him take me away. I give in and walk back with Glenn, constantly looking over my shoulder to see what they’re doing to Daryl.

I’m stuck in the library with Glenn, Carol, Carl, Tyrese and Sasha, pacing back and forth, biting the skin around my nails due to anxiety and stress, waiting, longing for news on Daryl’s wellbeing.
Maggie strolls in, blood on her hands and sweat on her brow. Her gruesome appearance makes my heart drop into my stomach and my pulse race.

“He’s out cold still, but he’s gonna be okay. You can go see him if you want.” She smiles sweetly.

“Thank you so much Maggie.” I whimper, hugging her tightly.

“No problem. Now go be with him, he needs you.”

I walk briskly to Daryl’s cell, only to be greeted by Rick and Hershel.

“Now, he’s stable, but go easy on him. He’s very dehydrated. The exhaustion was what knocked him out and he’s lost a lot of blood. Lucky for him, we managed to clean him up, stitch his cuts and chill his fever. I think what he needs is to wake up to a friendly face. You will be friendly, won’t you?” Hershel explains.

“I don’t think I’ll ever say a bad word to that man for as long as I live, Doc. I love him.” I sigh.

“You do!? Glenn owes me a drink!” Hershel chuckles and pats Rick on the back. I hug Maggie’s father with the same amount of gratitude I showed her.

“Thank you for savin’ him. You’re a good man, Hershel Greene.” I tell him in all honesty.

“I know, Y/N. I know.” He laughs.

I turn to Rick as Hershel walks away and he puts an arm around my shoulder.

“Our boy’s gonna be just fine. The man’s invincible.” He sighs.

“Don’t tell him that, he’ll probably believe you.”

Rick snickers at my remark and gives me a comforting kiss on the top of my head before heading over to the library to join everybody else.
As if it’s the most natural thing in the world to me, I climb into bed next to Daryl and cuddle up to his side, tracing my fingers along his stitches and bruises.

“What happened to you?” I whisper, nuzzling into the crook of his neck. Finally calm and at peace, I drift off into the first content sleep I’ve had in months. All because I know he’s safe.


The scorching Atlanta sun beams through Daryl’s cell window, shining over my eyes and waking me up. Unlike when I first got into Daryl’s bed, I can now feel strong arms wrapped comfortably around my waist and legs intertwined with my own. I turn over to see a finally conscious Daryl.

“Hey…” I croak in my morning voice, stroking some stray hairs out of his eyes.

“Hi.” He smiles, pulling me closer to him and gently kissing my forehead.

“How you feelin’?” I whisper.

“Like I been dragged backwards through thorns. But other than that, I’m peachy.” He jokes.

I roll my eyes at his remark and playfully nudge his shoulder.

“I can’t even begin to tell you how worried I was, Daryl. I was so scared. I thought I’d lost you and I was never going to see you again and-”

“Hey, hey, hey… I’m here now, ain’t I?” He reassures me.

“Barely, Daryl! You were hurt real bad,” I sigh. “Hershel said you got lucky.”

“Nah, I’m just that good.” Daryl smirks cockily.

“Darlin’, I know you think you’re gonna live forever, but you ain’t immortal. You could’ve gotten bit, shot, stabbed-”

I’m cut off by Daryl’s lips pressing against mine, a feeling that I’ve craved for so long. Our kiss deepens, becoming more passionate and needy by the second. His fingers dig into my hips as an attempt to pull me closer, but there’s absolutely no space left between us anymore, but I definitely won’t stop him. I reach up to have my hands on either side of his face, but he pulls away and hisses slightly, wincing in pain.

“Shit, I’m sorry!” I panic.

“Nah, it’s fine, it’s fine… just stings a little bit.” He laughs.

I rest my head back onto the pillow and let out a deep, content sigh.

“Listen… about what we said before I left. I’m sorry. Weren’t right.” Daryl says awkwardly.

“Normally I’d tell you that you should be sorry. But everything you said was right. I’m too reckless. You saw, if you hadn’t have been there in time, I would’ve died. I just wish that I never said those things. You aren’t suffocating me, I just overreacted.”

“I hope you know… the only uh- the only reason I’m like that is because I uh… I guess what I’m trying to say is I, uh-”

“I love you too, Daryl.” I smile, a rush of happiness surging through me because I finally got to tell him.

“Yeah… yeah, I love you, I really do. And that night, it wasn’t just going to be a quick fuck, I really want you for you, y'know? I’m sorry, I ain’t good at this stuff. I just… I don’t know. Let’s just stick with ‘I love you’.” He blushes.

I giggle at his awkwardness and struggle to show affection, as Daryl always knows what to say, so it’s unusual to see him so dumbfounded.
It’s so refreshing to see this side of him, as he’s normally so tough and full of bravado, but to see him so soft… it’s beautiful. I can’t help but run my hands through his hair and caress his temple with my thumb, just to reassure myself that he’s actually there and I’m not dreaming. He clearly understands what I’m doing and gently smooths away a tear I hadn’t realised rolled down my cheek.

“Hey, listen… I’m fine, okay? I’m okay, I’m alive and I ain’t dyin’ anytime soon.” He says softly.

“I know, I know, I’m just trying to process it all. I’ve gone from losing sleep because I never thought I’d get to touch you again and now you’re here and I can and I’m just so happy, it’s all really overwhelming, y'know?” I laugh in embarrassment.

All of a sudden, Rick appears at the entrance of Daryl’s cell, armed with knives and guns, looking about ready to go on a Walker killing spree.

“Going on a run, won’t be long. Y/N, you coming?” Ricks asks.

“Am I not included in this? I’m comin’ too.” Daryl grumbles and tries to sit up. I let out an amused scoff, earning a confused scowl from Mr Over-Enthusiastic over here.

“You ain’t going nowhere. You had your time being overprotective and now it’s my turn. I’m gonna keep you in this prison if it’s the last thing I goddamn do, Dixon. Rick, I’ll stay here. Need to keep this one out of trouble.”

Rick bites back laughter at the sight of his best friend’s frustration and nods knowingly.

“Probably a good idea.” Rick sighs with a smirk.

“Who’s side are you on, Grimes? Good Lord.” Daryl groans, falling back down onto the limp pillows.

“Her side, dumbass. Almost got yourself killed. Consider yourself on administrative leave. Recover for God’s sake. Anyways, if you need anything, Hershel and Beth are gonna be around if you need anything. See y'all later.” Rick waves and leaves to go on his travels.

“You’re killin’ me, Y/N.” Daryl sighs.

“You did a pretty good job of that yourself baby.” I laugh, still sat up.

“Hey, listen… you think Hershel and Beth have good hearing?”

I turn back and look at a smirking Daryl with raised eyebrows.

“Are you fucking with me right now?” I scoff.

“Not yet.” He winks.


Beth’s P.O.V

“Sweetheart, can you take this down to Daryl please?” Dad passes me a cup of water and some antibiotics.

“Sure Pop.” I smile sweetly and take the objects from his hands. I travel down the stairs towards Daryl’s cell when I here a slight whimpering, causing me to stop in my tracks. I clear my throat and what follows is a series of whispers and curses. I continue and when I reach my destination, the scene that’s laid out before me makes me feel both delighted and extremely awkward. Daryl has just resurfaced from underneath his sheets and clearly has no shirt on, and Y/N has the sheets pulled up to her mouth, blushing like there’s no tomorrow.

“Subtle guys.” I sigh. I set Daryl’s water and pills down on a table next to his cell door and turn to leave, but turn around last minute.

“Hey Daryl? The next time you go down on your girlfriend, can you go to a different cell block or at least give us warning so we can? We’re literally upstairs. Y'all are gross.” I giggle.

Y/N buries her head in the crook of Daryl’s neck in embarrassment, resulting in my going all fuzzy on the inside because they’re so damn cute.

Your P.O.V

Beth finally walks away and I let out a little squeal of bashfulness.

“Well, that could’ve gone better.” Daryl sighs.

“No fucking shit.” I laugh.

We sit in the awkward atmosphere for a while before I turn on my side and let out a small chuckle.

“Maybe later. We can go to cell block A and they won’t suspect a damn thing.” I suggest.

“I like the way you think, baby girl.” He winks and we high-five.

Daryl turns and faces away from me, allowing me to wrap my arms around his sculpted torso, but I’m distracted by wounds and scars on his back. These aren’t recent, either. These are permanent. Long cuts crossed over, spread over his shoulders, spine and tattoo. I have to cover my mouth to stop me audibly gasping at the clear mistreatment. I gently run my fingers across the scars, causing Daryl to flinch slightly.

“What are you doing?” Daryl snaps.

“Daryl… what are these?” I ask in an airy, barely-there voice due to shock.

“It’s none of your damn… ugh. Fine,” He turns to face me once again.

“My Dad… he wasn’t a nice guy. Used to beat the crap out of Merle. When Merle left, Dad had to fine something else to take whatever had pissed him off that day out on. I was just the closest thing I guess.” Daryl confesses.

My heart shatters knowing that at some point, somebody hurt this precious, pure man.

“I… I don’t know what to say.” I whisper.

Daryl shakes his head and let’s out a deep breath.

“You don’t have to say anything. Not your fault. What’s happened’s happened, it’s all in the past.” He shrugs.

I snake my arms around his shoulders and lovingly press my lips to his and in response, he clutches my waist and pulls my body closer to his, once again closing any form of space separating us. He lays on his back and pulls me on top of him as we make out, but as I sit up to take off my shirt, I hit my head on the top bunk, sending Daryl into fits of laughter.

“Smooth.” He chuckles.

“God, what is it with this cell block!? It’s a fucking concrete cock block!” I exclaim, much to Daryl’s amusement.

“I’m a mess.” I complain, covering my reddening face with both of my hands.

Daryl takes my wrists and sets them down by my thighs, gazing up at me with pure, unadulterated devotion.

“You’re my mess.”

Come and say, you never wanted things to end that way
That everything that happened was a mistake
I need sometime so I can comprehend

When you say I do
I will be with you
Take your time I know you will
They don’t love you like I did
By the, way you walk
I can tell how you talk
I just want you to be real
I don’t need your sex appeal

Before, before you go let me know
Once again
That everything happens for a reason
This is this the last time I believe in fate

When you say I do
I will be with you
Take your time I know you will
They don’t love you like I did
By the, way you walk
I can tell how you talk
I just want you to be real
I don’t need your sex appeal

Say it’s forever
It’s forever
It’s forever

Made with SoundCloud
26. Ellen Interview

Originally posted by rbieber

*Your POV*

Today Justin had an interview on Ellen. They are doing another Bieber Week and he is going to be spending time with her on the show. They give out a bunch of prizes to people in need and help out with anything they can. Justin plans on singing a little bit on there too. We were a couple now. There have been some paparazzi following us. But we aren’t exactly ready to talk about the relationship. So we try to be playful in front of the cameras to make it seem like we are just friends. I don’t like PDA any way.

We walked into the studio and followed the security to the dressing room. Justin was holding my hand and I smiled to myself. I love being around him. He just makes me feel happy. Once we got to the dressing room, I sat down on the couch. “You excited,” I asked looking up at Justin. He smiled back, “Yeah. I love coming to the show. Ellen and I always have a fun time.” I giggled and Justin took a seat next to me. “You can sit in here and watch if you want. I know you are probably tired from the flight,” Justin spoke. I smiled and nodded, “Okay. Go get’em.” I smiled and watched Justin leave the room.


Ellen: Let’s give a warm welcome to my friend Justin Bieber!

The crowd screamed as Justin walked out and I smiled big. He looked so happy. He walked up to Ellen and they hugged. Then they sat down in the chairs.

Ellen: How are you?

Justin: I’m great. I’ve been really busy with everything.

Ellen: I think we all know that. You have a new album out and a tour coming up. How does it feel to be back in the business?

Justin hesitated but smiled.

Justin: It feels great. I just want to apologize for my mistakes and for everyone I have hurt in the process. But I am in a great place now. I have some great people that are helping me stay humble and I’m very grateful.

Ellen smiled and the audience cheered.

Ellen: That’s great. I’m very proud. You know speaking of great people, who is your friend in this picture?

There was a picture of Justin and I walking the streets holding hands. I felt my face heat up in a heartbeat. This can’t be good. Justin smiled and looked down.

Justin: Oh man… I knew you would do something like this.

The audience laughed at his reaction. He was blushing and joined into the laughter. Ellen laughed too.

Ellen: What is her name?

Justin: Her name is Y/N. She is a really great friend of mine.

I smiled and looked to the floor. My heart dropped a little. I wanted him to tell the world that I’m his and that he is mine. But I am scared of the hate and everything that comes with being Justin’s girlfriend. Ellen made a funny face and looked to Justin.

Ellen: Well, I can see that. You guys do a lot together. I found a bunch of pictures of you and her on both of your Instagrams. How long have you two known each other?

Justin: We grew up together. We have always stuck together. She is a great girl. She is a great friend.

The crowd awed this time and I smiled slightly.

Ellen: Is she here today?

Justin nodded and smiled. The camera then switched to me sitting on the couch in the dressing room. I smiled and waved to the audience. I watched Justin’s smile grow bigger. I giggled and bit my lip.

anonymous asked:

Omg I loved the threesome >< I hate to ask cause I don't know if you want to or not but it's ok if you don't could you do one for V and Suga please

Oh I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it~ It’s been about a whole year since I originally wrote the first one.

- Devi ^_-


Keep reading

Prompt: Derek feels like Stiles doesn’t understand him and just wants him to understand his perspective.

Derek was in the loft getting his reps in for his arms and chest. He never missed a day, and his time working out was important. With battle after battle in Beacon Hills, Derek wanted to be in the best of shape incase an evil might try take over the town. However, some times Derek felt like the others didn’t understand, especially Stiles. Stiles never understood his obsession with constantly working out. Stiles loved his size, and his body, but Derek wish it was something that would bring them closer together.

Stiles entered the loft, towards the end of Derek’s work out. “Derek, what is it with you and the body building? You don’t need to keep lifting”, Stiles rolls his eyes. Derek slightly ignored him and continued his reps. “Stiles, I do it because it relaxes me, and I like the way I look”. Stiles walks away, and Derek thinks to himself how his wished that Stiles understood how he felt. As Derek started to clean himself up, unknown to him a Djinn spirit had been listening to the entire conversation. “If Derek wants Stiles to understand… That’s exactly what he is going to get!”. The two of them were fairly quiet, until it was time for bed.

At about 1 in the morning, while both had been in a deep sleep, the Djinn came back out into the room. He decided that it was time for some fun. Looking over the bed, it seemed that Derek took up about 2/3 of it. The Djinn made the covers disappear, and began to examine Stiles’ less than impressive body. “Well… if Derek wants Stiles to understand, we’re going to have to get to work”, raising his glowing hand towards Stiles. The young boy’s body started to stretch, as 5’10 simply was not good enough… 6’2 sounds more impressive. Stiles began to moan in his sleep, as more changes began to arise. Bubbles began to erupt all over his body, as muscles slowly started to emerge. His biceps began to grow and push Derek slowly farther off the bed. His shirt started ripping as his pecs rounded up and pushed out. After his legs doubled in size, and his dick lengthened significantly, his pants became shredded on the bed.

The Djinn admired his work, but knew he wasn’t finished. His hand once again began to glow, but this time with a different result. It started with his face. Hair began to grow on his checks, then his upper lip, and then his chin forming a beard very similar to Derek’s. His newly plumped pecs got a good covering of hairs as well as nice torso. The hairs on his arms and legs got longer and darker. “Now he is beginning to look the part!” The Djinn put his hands together. “He just needs to start thinking like Derek now!”. His hand once again began to glow and Stiles began to be filled with knowledge of working out, getting a deeper voice, and more masculine mannerisms. Impressed with his work, the Djinn disappeared awaiting the two to be surprised in the morning.

7 AM… Stiles heard the alarm and got up before Derek, but something wasn’t right. He felt heavy, but he didn’t eat much last night… A little disoriented, he got up and went to the bathroom. He turned the sink on and washed his face. He was puzzled to the feeling of scruff on his face. He looked up at the mirror and screamed! “DEREK… DEREK… COME HERE QUICK!” His heart was racing at what he was looking at. Derek’s face was on alert, as he didn’t recognize the man in his loft. “Who are you?”. Stiles rolling his eyes, “Very funny, Derek, its me… It’s Stiles”. Derek’s eyes went wide at the disbelief in front of him. Stiles began to look at his new bod. He flexed his arms, squeezed his new pecs, and began to feel all his new body hair. “Stiles, you kind of look like me?”. Dude, I feel powerful… his new voice boomed. Stiles instantly got rock hard and his new member got Derek’s attention. Derek loved this new Stiles, he was big, powerful, and might finally understand how Derek thinks. Stiles was still feeling himself up, his new beard, his new pecs, and his new member. Stiles looked up at Derek, “Wanna work out with me?!” Derek smiled and new that this would be amazing for both of them.


Razor Tongues Think Alike

Niles sat outside the empty prison, having no prisoners to mess with. All day he’d give remarks to passersby. Some comments were kept to himself. Some were decidedly not, like when a certain monk walked past, carrying a pickaxe and a bucket of emeralds.

“Well if it isn’t Azama. Must be nice to get babysat by Hinoka.”

Azama’s eyebrows perked up. “Ah, a challenge! You must be Niles. I’m afraid I’m a little too busy at the moment to feel uncomfortable, thereby making you feel better about your miserable childhood. Perhaps another time.”

Keep reading

A/N: Just so ya’ll know, this one is going to be made into 3 parts. It was requested by prayingdragon and they went into some lovely details of what they would like :3 I’ll just put a list of some stuff that is in this drabble. Also, translations are at the bottom.

-Dori, Nori, Bofur, and Balin fluff (obviously!)

-Badass fighting scenes where you (yes, you!) go on an insane tangent kicking goblin arse

-You being an adorkable half-dwarf cutie pie learning Khuzdul with your bff Bifur

-Dwarves trying to be gentlemen but you’re an independent lady so you do your own stuff bit awww it’s still pretty adorbs for them to be gentlemen


Keep reading

I get why some dudes react to viral videos about catcalling by saying things like “someone said smile, get over it, why is it such a big deal?” or “that guy was just trying to be friendly.” I get how a guy who had never experienced such ‘compliments’ on the street would watch a video of a woman being harassed and think, “why are all of these women so upset? everything the guys said was about how beautiful this woman is!” So let me attempt, if I might, to put it in perspective.

Imagine that you’re eleven and you’re walking home from middle school in a new jean skirt, and you hear a honk and you look up to see a pickup truck with a bunch of men leaning out of all the windows, grinning at you and whistling. Hey beautiful. Imagine how you feel a little rush in the pit of your stomach because you know, now, that you are a pretty girl. What you’ve always dreamed of, since the first time you ever saw Cinderella. You, in your new skirt and your floppy imitation of the Jennifer Aniston haircut, are unstoppable.

Now imagine that this sort of thing starts to happen to you more and more often. You start to realize that it has nothing to do with your new clothing or your hair because even when you’re in sweatpants, it still happens. Hey baby. Hows it going. You begin to realize that you can’t turn off this new attention even when you want to. Imagine that you’re thirteen, now, and on vacation with your parents, and your mom and dad have been waiting for you on a street corner while you buy your best friend a postcard, and you’re power-walking toward them on the sidewalk when you hear the familiar honk, and you look up without even meaning to, and there they are, eyes wide, all smiles, thumbs up, looking good baby. And imagine that you face forward as quickly as you can and see your parents faces as they try to pretend they haven’t noticed. Imagine how embarrassed you feel. But beyond that, imagine how it feels to understand, at thirteen, that your body is up for scrutiny, discussion, analysis. That you will be seen and you will be wanted and you will be made aware of it, whether you like it or not.

Now, imagine that this begins to happen to you every few months and then every few weeks and then every few days. You’re fourteen, you’re getting a milkshake with your friends. Damn girl. Fifteen, gymnastics practice. Look at the ass on that one. 

And it doesn’t stop there– you’re fifteen and you’re on the subway and you can’t tell if this guy is slipping his hand up your skirt on purpose or not and you don’t want to overreact so you just stand there and become more sure with every lurch of the train that no, it isn’t an accident, and that yes, in fact, he is touching you on purpose even though you are fifteen and going to Claire’s with your cousin even though he doesn’t know your name or anything about you or how you feel about his hand on your thigh and he doesn’t want to because it doesn’t matter how you feel because (and you know this by now, you’ve learned this by now) you are a pretty girl and people want to touch pretty girls.

So now, imagine you’re walking down the street on your way to work and you’re in your twenties or your thirties or your forties and you’re pretty happy with your life. You’ve got a good job, maybe even a nice partner to come home to, you’re confident, you feel good about yourself. And then just as you’re about to cross the street– excuse me ma'am, I just wanted to say you’re beautiful. And you’re not surprised, because it has been decade(s) of this, but what you are is instantly reminded of fifteen at a party, fourteen on your way to ballet, thirteen walking to your friend’s house, hey honey I like those shorts, hey blondie, smile baby. twelve at your brother’s play, eleven on the way home from school. hi there, damn baby, goddamn. that hand on your thigh. i like the way you walk, mama.

You, walking down the street, is sexy, even though you don’t mean it to be, even though you’re just trying to get where you’re going, it’s sexy because your body is that of a beautiful woman and it is open for public consumption at all times, whether you like it or not, whether you’re standing in front of the man you love or standing in front of a construction sight, it doesn’t matter, it’s all the same because the point is you’re standing and the point is they’re looking. They are always looking. That’s what it means when somebody tells you you’re beautiful on the street. I see you, I want you, you are not in control of this. 

But they don’t have to tell us because we already know this, by now. We have learned this by now.

So that’s why we call it harassment and not a compliment. That’s why we yell about it. That’s why it sucks. 

Hope this helps!

anonymous asked:

Okay so what if like Arins always stressed out in being a tiger hybrid. Like he constantly has 'be tough be tough' in his mind because he's a tiger and he's supposed to be this big powerful alpha male but it stresses him the fuck out because really he just wants to be a small baby and cuddle up into dans lap and Dan is always trying to break through this barrier in saying 'you don't have to be big and tough to be powerful' and 'you're perfect the way you are kitten' and i JUST GOD SEND H E L PPP

THIS KILLS ME okay okay  this is a long ass post like a legit fanfic okay jesus dont give me good prompts like this haha;;;

Keep reading

Love me, Hurt Me, Our Destiny: Beenzino (1/?)

Love me, Hurt Me, Our Destiny (1/?)


Beenzino lifted the cigarette to his lips, taking a long, hard drag from it. He saw his friend, Dok2, whispering into the ear of a blonde. He let his eyes roam over the short skirt and the wide expanse of skin revealed by the skimpy top.

One word.


He wanted to tell Dok2 to have some discerning taste but then again, his friend had always liked to think with his male anatomy. He could feel the speculative and seductive glances from the women crowd that lingered on him. He was unmoved by it. He could have anyone he chose to, but he wasn’t in the mood tonight after the performance. He stood up with the sleek grace of a predatory animal and walked towards the exit.

“Hey, Zino. Where’re you going?”

“It was boring in there.” Beezino said his voice detached as he stepped into the chilly night air.

“Boring?” Dok2’s eyes widened in disbelief, “God Zino, you are hard to please.”

“I like being that way.” Beezino continued walking towards his Porsche.

“Okay one last stop for the night to celebrate and if you don’t like it, I’ll do whatever you want me to do.” Dok2 said. Beezino quirked an inquisitive brow at Dok2 and a little grin had appeared on Dok2’s face.

“Fine though I suspect I’ve already seen all your tricks.” Beenzino said.

“Oh Zino, you don’t even know half of it.”

Beezino smirked at his friend’s remark. Nothing in this world managed to move him anymore. At the age of twenty-eight, Beenzino had lost the ability to be surprised or touched by anything. Something in him had died a long time ago with the knowledge that this life he led was built on the pain of his cheating ex-girlfriend of seven years. He never let himself forget that.


____ hated the booking club. She hated the rich, well-dressed men whose pudgy hands would linger shamelessly on the inside of her thigh. She was a newcomer and she wasn’t a good drinker; she wasn’t good at conversation with people either. The only reason why she was not thrown out on her ass by the manager was her fragile, feminine looks which made her stand out from the other girls in the club. She didn’t want to stand out. She just wanted to be ordinary, but then, she would never earn enough money to pay off the debts her dead father left behind and her mother’s hospital bills. So she gritted her teeth and tolerated it.

____ forced herself to swallow down the bitter wine which cost more than her monthly salary. And every night, she would sit down on the toilet floor, heaving the contents of her stomach into the toilet bowl. She forced herself to tolerate the intimacy of their touches, which range from discreet little touches to bold caresses. Sometimes the drunken clients would fondle her and force their tongues in her mouth, trying to pry her lips open. At first, she would shove the client away and that had earned her a pay cut and a stern warning from the manager. So now, ____ decided the best way was to place her hand on the man’s cheek, however revolting it was, and steer his mouth away, while smiling coyly. She had perfected the act, and every time she did it, she felt some part of her sanity slipping away from her.

Sometimes, _____ would wonder what the hell she was doing, squandering her youth in a place like this. Then she realized she never had any youth. Her so-called youth was spent covering from her father’s fists and hearing her mother’s muffled sobs through the paper-thin walls. After a few weeks spent in the booking club, ____ had gotten numb to the gropings of the clients. She had shut off some part of her mind and only when she got back to the cramped confines of her apartment, she would then break down and cry. Every night, her routine was to sit in the bathtub, scrubbing her skin till it began to peel and bleed. A part of her realized she was trying to inflict her own kind of punishment on herself, trying to hurt and mark the beautiful, unblemished skin her clients found so titillating. No matter how hard she tried, she was never going to find her innocence back. She had prostituted her innocence and dreams in exchange for money and this was the price she had to pay.


Beenzino sat down on the plush couch, his legs splayed wide. The manager had come out and was greeting Dok2 cordially.

“Dok2. Glad to see you again.”

“I brought a friend. This is Beenzino.” Dok2 gestured to Beenzino who gave a slight nod to the manager.

“Welcome Beenzino. Do you have any preferences?”

Beenzino lifted a brow at his question in amusement. Innocent on the streets and hot between the sheets. He doubted anyone in the booking club fitted that description though. He flicked his cigarette and propped his chin on his hand.

“I’m afraid not.” Beenzino looked over to Dok2’s direction and he was already chatting amiably with a blonde hair girl. He let his eyes drift over the place which was luxurious and tastefully decorated. It was just like any other booking club except that most of the patrons were well-dressed middle-aged men. His sight settled on a fair-skinned girl dressed in a tight dress. There was a look of boredom on her face even though she was constantly smiling. There was this ethereal air about her, almost as though she didn’t quite belong in this place of debauchery. Her hair fell over her face, obscuring Beenzino’s perusal and he found his interest fixed. He motioned the manager closer and he pointed in the direction of the girl.

“That one.” Beenzino said before tipping the contents of the wine glass down his throat.


____ made her way over to the man with the indolent and bold gaze. Something about him unsettled her at first sight. Maybe it was his air of self-importance, or perhaps it was his smoldering eyes and sensuous lips which had curled into a little smile as he watched her. She sat down on the couch at a considerably safe distance from the man.

“Welcome Beenzino. I’m ____.” She offered a smile as it was required of her.

“____ ” She heard the man repeat her name in the deep timbre of his voice and it felt like an intimate caress.

____ knew the man was looking at her and she sat there motionless. She had become used to it, but there was something about the man’s eyes that seemed like he was stripping ____ bare of her defenses and looking into her soul.

______ lowered her head, hiding her face beneath her fringe and she almost thought she heard a low chuckle from the man. Her eyes darted up and the man had a half-smile on his face but his eyes remained dark and mirthless. The silence had become discomforting and ____ wondered when the man was going to touch her or start talking about anything.

Beenzino looked at the girl sitting in front of him. He could tell that she was waiting for him to make a move and Beenzino found that oddly amusing. When did booking girls look so virginal-looking and pure? Or maybe it was just an act and Beenzino was going to find out.

____’s pink tongue darted out; licking the side of her lips in nervousness and Beenzino found that he wanted to do evil things with that tongue, to invite it into the warm caverns of his mouth and to feel it flutter against his own lips.

Beenzino leaned over, closing the distance between them and he thought he could see ____ flinch. There had been a brief look of fear that flashed across her face and it had disappeared as soon as it had appeared. He cupped ____’s chin gently and tipped her head up.

“Are you going to pour some wine for me or are you going to sit there and remain silent the whole night?” Beenzino said teasingly.

____ apologized hastily and proceeded to pour the wine into the wine glass. When Beenzino had leaned over, she thought Beenzino was going to place his lips on her and part of her had been stunned by his sudden movement.

The man moved like a sleek predator, graceful and mesmerizing. The manner he had tipped her chin up and spoke to her in that soft, husky voice was almost flirtatious, something alien to her. ____ was handing the wine glass to Beenzino when she felt her knees bump against Beenzino’s and the spine of the wine glass slipped from her hands, tipping the contents onto Beenzino’s pants.

____ dropped immediately onto her knees. This was going to get her fired and she knew she had committed a huge mistake.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” She apologized profusely and the commotion had attracted her manager.

“____. What have you done? I’m sorry. Beenzino, she’s still a newcomer and she’s clumsy.” He heard his manager exclaim in horror.

Beenzino looked at his wet pants and he dragged his fingers through his hair. Dok2 had rushed to the scene and he looked at ____ with annoyance.

“Do you know who he is? How are you going to pay for this?”

Beenzino placed a soothing hand on Dok2’s arm. “Dok2, it’s okay. Stop it, you’re scaring her.”

Dok2 looked at Beenzino with a surprised look and then looked back to the girl who was still kneeling on the floor to Beenzino’s expressionless face. Suddenly, he understood why his friend was not angry.

He was interested in that girl.

“Get the girl to wipe the mess off Beenzino’s pants.” Dok2 told the manager before giving a sly wink to Beenzino.

____ went to get a cloth and she knelt down in front of Beenzino’s outspread legs, gently wiping off the wine that had spilled onto his pants. She could feel Beenzino’s intense gaze looking at her and a flush crept up her cheeks.

____ realized that she was dangerously close to Beenzino’s groin and she bit his lip, recognizing the bulge tenting the pants as evidence of arousal.

Beenzino looked down at the girl kneeling in front of him, between his legs. She looked so submissive as she wiped his pants. He noticed ____’s long, graceful fingers. It was erotic, watching her hands get so near to his arousal before retreating. She didn’t make an effort to get up, her hands at her side and Beenzino stooped down, leaning in close to the girl.

“I’ll rather you go out with me tonight than kneel on the floor all day, you know.” He breathed playfully on ____’s ear, his lips almost brushing her cheek.

“My manager will never allow it. As for the pants, I will pay you back.” ____ replied uneasily. She was genuinely frightened now. She didn’t recognize the little shiver that ran through her body when Beenzino was so dangerously close to her.

“I have dozens of such pants at home. One won’t make a difference. As for your manager, if I manage to convince him, will you go for supper with me?” Beenzino said, his eyelids drooping lazily. There was a flare of anger in ____’s eyes and maybe the girl had more spirit than Beenzino originally credited her for.

“You will never convince my manager.” ____ said, her eyes stubbornly refusing to meet Beenzino’s.

Well, well if this was not a challenge, then Beenzino didn’t know what was. And one thing Beenzino doubted ____ knew was that he loved challenges and he always got the things he wanted, regardless of the consequences.