men i admire the hell out of

ok but did tarjei and henrik spend the break between seasons 3 and 4 just practising making out or what!? 😳 i mean they always looked comfortable together and believable as a couple but now it’s just so… real. they are so intimate. i’ve never seen a pair of actors, especially two young men, so convincing as two people in love. just the way they look at each other and interact on screen makes you almost forget they’re acting at all. tarjei and henrik deserve all the admiration and praise in the world for making isak and even’s relationship so utterly compelling and special. and hot as hell. i could honestly cry like 24/7 just thinking about it 😭



Any “speculation” i’ve made about henrik and tarjei’s sexuality or relationship was entirely light hearted and not intended to be taken seriously. I am in no way a “IRL shipper” and i don’t agree with people harrassing actors over their sexuality or speculating endlessly about their relationship just because they play lovers on screen. I find that embarrassing and honestly i just really respect and admire henrik and tarjei too much to go down that route. so if i upset anyone, i do apologize. maybe i worded my post wrong? idk. anyway, let’s just enjoy the show and agree these two guys are amazing and have fantastic chemistry :)

Fragments - Part 10

Word Count: 1780

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Warnings: Angst, Fluff 

A/N: Hey look I kept it short.

Feedback and constructive criticism always welcome

Fragments Masterlist

“Cas? What’d you find?” Cas stormed into the bunker, looking grimmer than you’d seen in some time. He’d stormed into Heaven, checking out leads on your soul and if it could possibly be in the cage.

“Lucifer wasn’t lying.” Cas said. Dean was instantly by your side, lacing your fingers together. “The angel that grabbed you when you ran from them was one of Metatron’s followers.” Cas explained. “He had strict instructions from Metatron that if you acted out in anyway to throw you in the cage. Got the instruction manual on how to do it from a tablet.”

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Michael x reader

Request: “Hey, me again asking 4 something, could u please write something where the reader is with the blinders(kills 4 them)she and Michael are an item, she sees him fuck Charlotte at the wedding and kill someone idk helping Arthur or gets involved in the fire”

Authors note: Changed it up a tiny bit hope it’s OK

Warning: Swearing, fluff, violence

You were pottering about the betting shop waiting for a family meeting the first time you met Michael. You were at the family meeting because Tommy is technically your legal guardian for another year before you turned 18. Thomas and your brother, Matt, had grown up together and when our parents died Matt was your only living family left. When the boys went off to war Polly looked after you, as you were only a year older than Finn you all became very close. Matt didn’t make it back from the war and Tommy refused to ship you off to a family you didn’t know so at the age of twelve Tommy took you into his family and signed himself up to be your legal guardian.

Polly walked in proudly showing off her son. You were polite and happy for Polly but you don’t know what it was about Michael that you didn’t like you just really didn’t like him. About a week later he was standing munching on a tomato and reading some papers whilst standing in your way.

“Move.” He looked at you in shock. This was pretty much the first time you had spoken to him and he pinned you for the shy type.

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Female Winchesters

Characters: Dean x Reader, Amanda (Reader’s sister), Sam

Word Count: 3,022

Warnings: just fluff here with a side of implied smut at the end for all you Dean girls

Request: Can I request one where the reader is a badass chick and she hunts with her little sister and they’re basics like the female Winchesters and a pairing of Sam, Dean or Cas? If you don’t mind. :) 

Author’s Note:  If you want to be tagged, leave an ask or message and I’ll add you! Same goes for my Series Rewrite! If you want to request a fic, please send them in! I love writing what you guys want!

Feedback is always appreciated

Tags at the bottom

Originally posted by mishaisgodaf

“Amanda! Would you hurry up? The spirit is going to end up killing more people! Who cares if your hair is perfect or not.” You said, rolling your eyes. Your younger sister was a pain in the ass sometimes. You were the more chill one, being ready in .2 seconds.

“I’m coming! God, you’re worse than mom, you know that?” She said, coming out in her FED suit. She was the tallest person ever, coming up to 6’. You were barely 5’7 and even though both of your parents were short, she still managed to be a tall ass motherfucker.

“Don’t compare me to mom. It was bad enough she brought us into this life.” You said, pulling on your jacket.

“I know. But hey, we had each other. That’s all that mattered.” She said with a smile.

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When Everything’s Made to be Broken (I Just Want You to Know Who I Am) Part 36

Hi everyone!  Sorry about the longer than usual wait…I might end up alternating between weekly and twice weekly updates for the near future.

Plot:  When you inadvertently become a witness to a murder and are suddenly a target for death, it takes a specially skilled soldier and his team to keep you and your family safe.

This will eventually be a is a reader x Bucky fic. The reader, by the way, is a civilian. No super powers, no fighting skills, and by no means perfect.  

Word count: 3592


For the entire work:  Language (I have a potty mouth), violence, and angst.  This will probably get pretty dark later on, and there will be smut.  If that’s not your thing, you may want to avoid this story.

Additional warnings specific to this part: Implied threats of assault/rape, mentions of anxiety/panic attacks, bad guys being douchebags, unwanted touching,    If I need to add anything else, PLEASE LET ME KNOW.  If you don’t want me to publish the ask, I won’t, or you can feel free to do it as a Nonnie.  I will not take offense to any trigger warning requests.   Your well-being is important to me and I do NOT want to trigger anyone.

***I do not own any of the lyrics/music in this story, so please don’t sue me for using them***

Tags moved to the end.

WEMtbB Masterlist

Previously on WEMtbB:

“The final touch,” he murmurs as he presents a bottle of perfume, “A gift from the Kapitan.”  He says it with a fair amount of disgust, and you’re surprised that he allowed that emotion to leak through considering how paranoid he’s been about the cameras.

“Oh…oh no,” you push the offending bottle away after just one small sniff, “No no no.  That – that is a powerful smell.  I can’t wear that, it gave me an immediate headache! I’m sorry, Mikhail, but I can’t…”

“But solnishko –“

“It is fine, Mikhail, if lisichka is sensitive to smells, we will not make her wear it.  My brother and I are not unreasonable.”  Nicolai sweeps into the room – you hadn’t even heard the door open.

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Women’s wrestling is more than just a sport. It’s high art. Every single day these women go out and put their bodies through hell. I admire them more and more as the days pass. Women’s wrestling has inspired me to never give up and always believe in myself. These women go out there and break every single boundary that was set for us centuries ago. We are more than just our bodies and we are more than just pretty faces. We can do everything men can do, sometimes even better then they can. Women’s wrestling is high art in every way possible.

wolvesandhides  asked:

Alright, confession: I've taken a week and a half off of my work out/ meal routine. And I gotta admit it's mostly been stress/depression and going out with new friends. So I'm asking for some motivation! Would you want to give me a list of bad ass women you are inspired by that will hopefully boost my want to regulate my routine again?! Minus sailor V, she's my fav and is already way up there for my work outs 😬

A List of my Favorite BADASS WOMEN!! 

YES Lets DO IT! For the Record Women kind of inspire me more then Men to workout, not because “I cant let no woman be stronger than me” But because I really admire Strong Women and it motivates me. Hell I’ll fully admit my Body wouldnt LOOK Nowhere near as good as it looks today without a woman’s help.

So Lets get to it in any Random Order

1) Wonder Woman

2) Starfire from Teen Titans

3) Korra from Legend of Korra

4) Mikasa Ackerman from Attack on Titan

5) Samus Aran from Metroid (Who i now know is female so you can get that joke out your system)

Originally posted by sugoi-b0y

6) Toph Beifong from Avatar the Last Airbender

7) Hit-Girl From Kick-ass for a 10 year old she is a BEAST at Killing Criminals and the Main Reason Kick-ass is my favorite movie of all time

Originally posted by chloeternal

8) Theres a Manga Called Teppu that is FULL OF BADASS KICK-ASS Women who Do MMA so its very motivating to Train

9) Erza Scarlet from Fairy Tail

Originally posted by shizachi

10) One of My Favorites cause she’s Practically THE Female Goku. Musubi from Sekirei :)

There ya go. Those are some of my Top 10 WOMEN who Kick -Ass hope it gives you a spur of motivation :)

also BONUS

Friend-wise my buddy @train-go Motivates to Practice lol

I LOVED TY LEE from Avatar as well

Originally posted by subzeros

charmedsims  asked:

Reagan cause my interest in her has peaked and now I think I love her and Nolan 🤷🏻‍♀️ 4, 6, 7, 9, 12, 13, 16, 20

Thanks honey bees! I’m glad y’all have taken an interest in Rea because I’ve got some exciting things in store for her! @phoenixresurgent

01. Full name: Reagan Marie Winslow
02. Best friend: Equal parts Nolan and Sabrina.
03. Sexuality: bisexual, with a preference for women. (mostly because a majority of her experiences with men, especially sexually, have been horrendous)
04. Favorite color: any and every shade of blue
05. Relationship status: currently playing the hell out of the field
06. Ideal mate: Someone who can handle her spine of steel and her smart ass mouth. Someone who admires her fierce independence, rather than is insecure and intimidated by it. Someone who isn’t afraid to put her in her place when she gets out of line, because her extreme honesty sometimes carries no filter, and she tends to put her foot in her mouth more often than not. Someone she can grow with rather than have her roots smothered.
07. Turn-ons: answered :-)
08. Favorite food: She has a huge sweet tooth, and is a totallll sucker for Krispy Kreme donuts.
09. Crushes: every cute girl she’s ever walked by ever???
10. Favorite music: Anything you can sit around, smoke a blunt, and vibe to. But Jhene Aiko, The Weeknd, and Kehlani are probably her favorite artists.
11. Biggest fear: Intimacy. Not sex, but having any sort of personal connection with someone, giving them any sort of power over her—it terrifies her.
12. Biggest fantasy: Living in a world where no one caught feelings for her and murder was legal so that she could fucking obliterate Sam.
13. Bad habits: Smokes cigs and weed like her life depends on them.
14. Biggest regret: Not helping Nolan talk Sabrina out of going to Butler University.
15. Best kept secrets: Remember when…
16. Last thought: Y’all are actually about to find out, I’m hoping to get a post out for Reagan by the end of the evening.
17. Worst romantic experience: Picking up some super hot guy at a bar, only to find out that he kissed like a dog, didn’t believe in foreplay, and lasted a whole two minutes…safe to say, there are a lot more factors that go into her hookup selection process now.
18. Biggest insecurity: She doesn’t really have any insecurities??? Like honestly, my girl is incredibly confident in herself and her abilities.
19. Weapon of choice: Sarcasm. But if it comes down to throwing ‘bows, she don’t fight like no bitch, so fists. She will not hesitate to grab the nearest blunt object if she has to rly fuck yo’ ass up tho, so don’t test her.
20. Role Model:  Her brother. She aspires to bring the amount of humor, love, and light into the world that he does.

Rated PG for Panties and Garter belts

Word Count: 3,000

{ Violet looked like she had just stepped straight out of the pages of some Italian Vogue magazine. All Matt could see were those long, delicate legs. When she spun around -heels striking the pavement like a match, dress swirling around her body like a flame, black hair sticking to her burning cheeks- he was amazed that she hadn’t lit the ground on fire.}

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The Better Hook (OFC POV)

“Come on, guys. I haven’t eaten all day.” I reach for the combo meal Tom confiscated from me the second he sat down.

“We just want you to answer this one question,” Tom replies as he pulls the food out of my reach. “Then you can have it back. Hell, I’ll even buy you dessert to go with it.”

“We saw your blog post, Amy.” Colin folds his arms over his chest. “We just wanna know–”

“Just admit I was the better Captain Hook and be done with it,” Jason blurts out, cutting off Colin.

“What he means,” Tom shoots a warning glance at the other two men, “is, of the three of us, which was a better-portrayed, more admirable Captain Hook?” He picks up a french fry from my tray and waves it side to side. He must think taunting me will influence my decision somehow.

I take a look at Colin, who points at himself and bites his lower lip. He nods his head, eyebrows raised. I risk a look at Jason, now, wanting to see his attempt at persuading me.

He just watches me and waits patiently. Such a cocky bastard, but he’s still the best friend I’ve ever had.

They steal my food, I steal their time; I decide to have a little fun with this. I straighten my back and put on a serious, professional face. “In front of me are three Hooks…but only one can be America’s Next Top Hook.”

“Really, darling?” Jason’s impatience can’t be taken seriously with the little smirk on his face.

“This should be good,” Colin comments.

“Just humor her,” Tom tells them, “or she’ll take even longer.”

I roll my eyes and slip back into character. “Tom Hiddleston representing the ‘Pirate Fairy’; Colin O'Donoghue representing ‘Once Upon A Time…” I point a threatening index finger at Colin, “Don’t you dare let anything happen to Captain Swan.”

He chuckles and waves it off. “I don’t think anything major will be happening to them anytime soon. You’re good.”

I nod approvingly. “Thank you. And Mr. Isaacs…”

He pretends to check his nails like the diva he can be. He sucks his teeth.

Cocky bastard, I think with the biggest mental smile behind it. Suddenly, my stomach speaks to me loud enough for everyone at the table to hear. I can’t play this out like I wanted to. I’m way too hungry. “Guys, I’m sorry. Jason wins.”

Agh,” Colin and Tom grunt with defeat.

“I told you,” Jason gloats.

I reach for my food immediately and stuff a few fries into my mouth.

“It’s ‘cos I’m Irish, isn’t it?” Colin counters. He takes a sip of his Snapple Iced Tea.

“To think I was willing to buy you dessert,” Tom adds jokingly.

“Sorry, boys. Two thousand-three Hook won my heart first. Y'all came in too late. Still love you two, though. And, personally, I think the greatness between the three of you is pretty equal.”

“I just happen to be slightly better.” Jason steals a fry off my tray.


Okay, I’d like to point something out. I admire both Dita and Manson so much for this. Manson wearing corsets like it’s nothing, Dita looking natural as hell in a tux. It just goes to prove that men can wear women’s clothing and have female qualities and still be manly as hell if they wish to be. And the same with Dita, looking feminine as ever. The point is that even if you’re a straight male, comfortable in your own skin, there is nothing wrong with wearing feminine clothing if that’s what makes you happy, it doesn’t make you less of a man, and vise versa. Thank you, Dita and Manson for being absolutely perfect.

Did you fall from heaven?

So, I still have some of those pick up line prompts.  And since I finally watched Age of Ultron yesterday, I can actually write the Pietro/Darcy prompt I got!  Did you fall from heaven for Pietro/Darcy from andyousaidtruelovedidntexsist.

               In the wake of Ultron’s attempt to destroy humanity (and really?  A freaking evil robot?  Darcy thought Gods were bad enough), the world wasn’t exactly… enthusiastic about the Avengers.

               Pepper could hold all the press conferences in the world, but they needed more than to just turn the tide of mainstream media in their favor.  That was when Jane had made the suggestion to Thor, who put it up to the other Avengers, and then Darcy was hired as their Social Media PR.

               They needed a fresh, young perspective to twist things to their favor, and she was it.

               Working with the Avengers was, admittedly, pretty cool. And useful.  Like Natasha, teaching her how to defend herself with more than a taser – not that she stopped carrying the taser, of course. But knowing how to throw a decent punch could only be a good thing.  And then there was the amazing tech she had at her fingertips thanks to Social Media. Or the drinking partner she had found in Wanda, who in the aftermath of … everything, had been more than happy to have a friend around her age that could help her loosen up a bit.

               Of course, with Wanda, came Pietro.

               Darcy had been the one to give him the name Quicksilver, because the first time she met him he had given her this… grin, and then just disappeared, and she swore all she saw was a flash of his hair, looking silver, and then he was just gone.

               He had reappeared seconds later with a daisy, and told her that a beautiful girl deserved a beautiful flower, and while she had been flushing bright red, Barton had been scoffing and telling him that he wasn’t nearly as smooth as he thought he was.

               Darcy disagreed of course – she thought he was pretty damn smooth.

               But nothing much had come out of it.  There had been flirting of course, but Darcy flirted with pretty much everyone, and was the point in working with the Avengers if you didn’t take every opportunity to ogle Captain America shirtless and admire how good those men looked in their tight uniforms?  Hell, Darcy was all about the free love – Wanda and Natasha looked pretty damn good too.

               But still, she couldn’t help but look a little longer at Pietro, with his light hair and gorgeous eyes, and she thought she maybe saw him look back once or twice… but, well, he was too fast for her to really be sure.

               “I do not understand why you are upset with my brother,” Wanda told her, when Darcy dragged her out for a night on the town. Darcy had one too many screwdrivers, and somehow that turned into her complaining about how boys – mainly Pietro – were way too hard to understand.

               “Because I wear my cutest low cut tops for him, and give him my best come hither smiles – that always worked nine times out of ten in the past – and yet he always just… runs.”

               “Pietro always runs,” Wanda replied.  “It is his way.  You were the one that named him Quicksilver, no?”

               “Yes, but he’s not supposed to run when I want him to stay.”

               Wanda considered this.  She drank her drink – a gin and tonic – much slower than Darcy, still not sure if she enjoyed alcohol or not.  

               “Perhaps he does not know you wish him to stay. We have spent most of our teen years in the experimental program.  All of the girls he knew… well, they all died.”

               Except his sister, which makes Darcy consider everything.  Because yeah, she had been smiling at him, and he had flirted – a pretty flower for a pretty girl – but maybe… maybe smiles weren’t enough.  Not if he didn’t realize she was smiling at him.

               She turned on her chair an caught sight of him across the bar.  She thought it was sweet, how protective he was of Wanda, even though she was the freaking Scarlet Witch and could more than take care of himself.

               “What are you thinking?” Wanda asked, her expression somewhat uncertain.

               “That you probably aren’t going to want to look toward your brother for a little while, Wanda.”

               Darcy threw back the rest of her drink and set her glass firmly on the counter before she made her way across the bar, to where Pietro watched everything, looking rather uncomfortable.

               “Do you have a map? Cause I keep getting lost in your eyes,” she said with a cheeky grin when she finally reached his side. Pietro startled, and she realized that though he had been looking toward where she had been sitting with Wanda, his mind had apparently been a thousand miles away.

               “I do not understand this statement,” Pietro admitted after a moment, in which his face went through several adorable stages of befuddlement.  

               “It’s a pickup line, Quicksilver,” Darcy replied with a chuckle, nudging him with her shoulder.  “Admittedly, it’s a pretty bad one, but you gotta enjoy the classics every now and then.”

               “Ah,” Pietro looked as though he were considering that, and filing it away for later, then gave her a quick grin that made her pulse race.  “And after this pickup line has been used, would it be natural to offer to buy the pretty girl a drink?”

               “You’re a quick study.  Asking the pretty girl to dance wouldn’t hurt either.”

               She woke up the next morning with a headache and a grin, because memories of dancing with Pietro and plying him with alcohol, only to discover that his increase metabolism meant getting drunk wasn’t an easy feat had left her more than a little tipsy, but he’d totally carried her home.

               When she joined the others, she thought there might be a little awkwardness, but Pietro had given her that smile of his and then gone back to being an utter smartass to Barton, which Darcy was pretty sure was his favorite past time.  When everyone began to go their separate ways for the day, Pietro fell in step with her, an when he leaned down, his breath warm on her ear, she nearly jumped.

               “Did you fall from heaven?” Pietro asked, and he wore that half grin of his.

               “Really?” Darcy blurted, because the combination of his nearness and her own general lack of tact meant that she didn’t really think before speaking.  Pietro’s face fell into confusion.

               “I am sorry.  Barton, he says that is one of those pickup lines?”

               Darcy almost face palmed, because of course it would be Barton, and she shot a glare at the archer who was howling in laughter.

               “He neglected to tell you when you should use them,” Darcy explained.  “It’s typically in bars… when you’re drunk.”

               Comprehension dawned on Pietro’s face, and he turned his own glare to Barton.

               “What’s wrong, Kid?  Didn’t see that one coming?”

               She could see his muscles tensing, ready to go for Barton, but she placed a hand on his arm, making him freeze and look down at her instead.  Throwing caution to the wind – because caution had never really been her thing anyway – she went up on tip toes and pressed a lingering kiss to his cheek.

               “I liked a pretty flower for a pretty girl better,” she admitted, a whisper into his ear, before she went back onto flat feet and went on her way.

               “Oh, c’mon,” she heard Barton whine behind her.  “You can’t tell me she actually let that work, can you?”

               “What?” was Pietro’s reply.  “You didn’t see that one coming?”

               She shot a quick look over her shoulder before she rounded the corner, and saw that for all he was snarking back at Barton, Pietro was watching her go, a goofy grin on his face and his fingers pressed to where she had kissed his cheek.

Front Row Seat

It soothed your nerves. It made you happy. The blades sliding against the ice, the cool air hitting your face, the relaxation put you in another world. It had been something your mom signed you up for as a child and it now was something you were grateful for. You grew up learning new moves; twirling against the ice, slicing across at lightning speed, and your body finding itself in the air.

You were absolutely in love with ice skating. It was something you were born to do and you weren’t going to give it up anytime soon. Or so you thought…


“Hey babe, where are the chips we just bought?” Harry yelled out from the kitchen. Laughing to yourself, you got up off of the couch and headed towards the sound of his voice.

“Harry, they’re in the cabinet where they always are.” You reached around him and pulled the cabinet door open, getting on your toes to try and reach for the bag. He laughed softly and his hands found their way to your waist, lifting you effortlessly into the air to help you up. Setting you back down on the ground, you turned to face him with a grin on your face.

“What would I do without you, my giant?” He laughed and wrapped his arms around your waist, his fingers interlocking at the small of your back.

“I don’t know, but let’s not dwell on that subject, my love.” He leaned down and pressed his mouth against yours, a smile pulling at his lips. With your hands against his chest, you pulled away and looked up at him.

“You should be getting the food ready, the boys will be here soon and you know how Niall gets when he’s hungry.” You laughed and leaned up to push his hair out of his eyes. He nodded in agreement and pressed a kiss to your head.

“You sure you don’t mind them here tonight? We could always just go Liam’s place to watch the match. I know you need to rest for tomorrow.” He always supported you during your competitions. He’d be in the first row, eyes watching you slide against the ice. He’d be the loudest one when you were done and he’d lean over to the next person, whether it was a supporter or one of the boys, and whisper, “That’s my wife.” And that was your favorite part.

“Babe, it’s fine. They always come over when there’s a match and it’s fun.” You smiled and wiggled out of his grasp, replacing your body with the bag of chips. “I’ll be upstairs, my love.” He watched you saunter out of the kitchen and he smiled to himself, emptying out the chips into a bowl.

You showered and managed to rummage through Harry’s drawer to find your favorite shirt of his. Pulling it over your head, his scent filled up your nose. A sigh escaped your lips, your thoughts reminiscing on the times you put on the shirt when he was miles away. The way it helped soothe the empty cool space on his side of the bed when he was gone and it made you feel at home.

He was your home. The moment you saw him behind the counter at the bakery, the moment he kissed you for the first time, the moment he asked you to marry him, and the moment you said I do; Harry was your home.

The doorbell rang and the loud voices filled your large home, all too excited for the football match scheduled for the day. You laid in the middle of the bed and closed your eyes. You had to admit, you were nervous for your competition tomorrow. It was something you were looking forward to but also dreading at the same time. You had no problems with competitions before, but this time around you felt off. At your practices you felt that were a bit rusty, but your coach reassured that you were absolutely fine.

“Babe! Pizza’s here!” Your husband’s voice carried up the stairs and snapped you out of your thoughts.

“I’ll be down in a few minutes!” You called back and climbed off the bed, throwing on a pair of sweatpants and heading towards the eager voices. There they were, each sprawled out between the couches and floor with plates of food surrounding them, the television’s volume blasting through its speakers. You stood at the stairs for a moment and peeked into the living room, admiring the 5 men in your life.

“I call dibs on the rest of the pie!” Niall yelled out, already stuffing his face with a second slice. The boys groaned and rolled their eyes in response.

“Oh, shut up,” Louis replied and continued flipping through the channels to find the sports channel. “Damn it, Harold! Where the hell is this channel?!”

You watched your husband lean over and grab the remote from him, quickly flipping to the channel. “You’re such a wanker,” he mumbled. You laughed and strolled in, plopping down next to him.

“Boys, be nice to each other.” The other 4 boys looked in your direction and grinned, happy to see you.

“Are you really going to sit here and watch the match with us?” Liam asked and smirked, knowing how annoyed you got when the boys got into it. You rolled your eyes in response and leaned into Harry’s side, wrapping your arms around his waist.

“Actually, I’m going to sit here and cuddle with my husband, thank you very much.” You stuck your tongue out at him, earning a laugh from him and the rest of the boys. Harry instinctively slid his arm around you and kissed your head, making you melt into his side.

“Men don’t cuddle during football matches, love.” Louis came to Liam’s defense with a glum smirk on his face.

“You really are a wanker,” you spat back with a bigger smirk, glancing up at Harry. He laughed and pulled you closer.

“That’s my girl,” he grinned and you caught Louis mimicking you, knowing he’d lost this round.

“Alright, hush up! It’s starting!” Niall yelled out; he was always the most thrilled when it came to football. Minutes passed and the game had begun, already leaving you bored. Between the cheers and criticism from each boy, you found yourself drifting to sleep. The scent of Harry from where he lounged next to you and the shirt you had thrown on had your eyelids drooping.

“Baby,” you heard him whisper in your ear. “Hm…” was all you could mumble back, too comfortable to say anything else.

“You’re falling asleep,” he chuckled and pulled you close to him, his arms keeping you warm. “Let me take you up to bed.”

You opened one eye to look up at him and pouted, “But you’re comfy.” You saw the smile creep on to his lips. “Okay.”


Hours later, you found yourself waking up to a quiet living room; the only sound coming from the television. You raised your head slowly and inspected the scene around you; the boys had fallen asleep, two on the floor and two on the couches. Pizza boxes scattered everywhere and beer cans all over the floor. You laughed to yourself, enjoying the moment before grabbing your phone and quickly snapping a picture. You peeked up at your snoring husband and smiled, softly shaking him.

“Harry,” you whispered and gave him another small shake. “Baby, let’s go up to bed.” He stirred awake and groaned softly, the sleep evident in his eyes. He looked down at you and ran his hand over his face.

“Come on, babe.” He whispered, his voice deep with slumber as he grabbed your hand and carefully stepped over a snoring Zayn and made his way up the stairs with you. Pushing the bedroom door open, he made his way to his side of the bed and pulled the duvet back, waiting for you to climb in. You took the offer and climbed in, waiting for him as he undressed himself. He climbed in and wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into his chest. You quickly made yourself comfortable; your arm draped over his chest, your head nuzzled between his chin and shoulder, and both sets of legs tangled in a mess.

“Good night, baby.” He breathed out before quickly falling back asleep. You leaned up and planted a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth.

“Good night, my love.”


The day was finally here and you were lying on your back facing the ceiling. You were nervous; there was no doubt in that. You looked over at your husband and watched as his chest rose and fell with every breath. You didn’t want to wake him only because of how peaceful he looked. But you knew if you didn’t, he’d be upset.

“Harry.” You leaned in and tangled your hands in his hair. “Baby, we have to get going.”

He mumbled something inaudible and squinted his eyes open, the sunlight bothering them. “I’m up, I’m up.” His head turned to you and he pouted.

“What’s wrong?” You ran a hand over his chest and watched him rouse.

“We’ve got to get better curtains,” he grinned. You laughed, throwing your head back and shaking your head.

“I promise we will, but right now, we’ve got to get out of bed.” He kissed his lips quickly and scrambled out of bed, rushing into the bathroom to shower.

He watched after you, his lips curving up into a smile. Climbing out of bed, he threw on his briefs and dragged himself to the top of the stairs.

“Aye! If you wankers are coming with us, you better get up!” He yelled from the top, making sure to get the other boys up. He heard them groan and he laughed to himself, heading back inside the bedroom and made his way through the bathroom. “Babe, I’m getting in,” he announced before climbing into the shower with you.

“Harry, I know what you’re thinking. We don’t have time,” you glanced up at him while trying to wash the shampoo out of your hair.

“What? I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he smiled innocently and wiggled his eyebrows. You laughed and shook your head, leaning up to whisper in his ear.

“Later, I promise.” You kissed his cheek and watched as his smile grew, eagerness shining through.


“You’re not nervous, are you?” Zayn asked as they all stood in your dressing room.

“Of course I’m nervous, I’m terrified.” You replied as you were getting your hair and make-up done. It was true; you were absolutely horrified.

“You always do well, you’ll be totally fine.” Niall chirped in, a smile played across his face. You took a deep breath and nodded.

“I really hope so,” you looked over at Harry who was sitting across from you, admiring you.

“You have nothing to worry about, love.” Louis smiled and looked at the time. “We better get to our seats. We’ll see you after the performance. Good luck, sweetheart.” He came around and planted a kiss to your head, followed by three more ‘good luck’s’ and kisses as they walked out the door. The stylist had planted her finishing touches into your hair and make-up, leaving you to get ready. Harry sat, one leg over the other, watching you.

You grabbed your costume off of the hanger and slid into it, one leg at a time. Your hands were shaky and he noticed, getting up and helping you zip it up. He wrapped his arms around you from behind, his face nuzzled into your neck.

“Relax, baby, relax.” He whispered and slid his hands over yours, rubbing thumbs over your knuckles. “You’ll be absolutely brilliant and you know it.”

You took in a breath and looked in the mirror. He towered over you from behind and you looked at him, your eyes automatically locking. You gave him a small nod and relaxed back against him, exhaling deeply.

“5 minutes, darling.” Your coach peeked her head in and smiled at the two of you, waving her hand apologetically and dashing out. You turned to face him and your nerves instantly relaxed.

“You look stunning,” he grinned and pushed a stray hair out of your face.

“You’ll be watching, right?” You squeezed his hands softly as you spoke softly.

“I won’t even blink,” he joked, trying to put you at ease. You cracked a smile and leaned up to kiss him.

“I love you,” you whispered against his lips before pecking them once more.

“I love you too, beautiful.” He led you out of the dressing room and made the short walk with you to the rink, his hand in yours. “Go out there and kick some ass, babe.” He grinned before giving you one last kiss and giving your bum a soft squeeze. You shrieked and pulled away, playfully hitting him in the arm. He laughed and walked off making his way to his seat with the rest of the boys.

“You’re okay, you’re fine.” You whispered to yourself and sat on the bench next o your coach. You slid on your skates, one after the other, and made sure to tie them securely. Your coach smiled over at you before giving you a few motivational words before letting you go.

“Just focus. That’s all, my love. You go out there and show them what you came to do,” she embraced you in her arms before letting go and rushing to the side, letting you make your way on to the ice. You took another breath, exhaling when you spotted Harry flashing you his heart-stopping smile. The music slowly began signaling the beginning of your routine, letting you slip into your comfort zone.


It all happened too fast. The jump, the landing, the fall; it happened before you had a chance to brace yourself. You writhed in pain, bracing your ankle and burying your head into your knee. Your coach quickly rushed to your side, inspecting your leg and signaled for the medical attention.

Harry was swift to get out of his seat and push past the crowd of people forming at the entrance. Slipping and sliding across the ice, he was trying to make his way to you.

“Babe?!” He was panicking. He knew you were hurt; the look on your face said it all. He stumbled and knelt to your side, taking your hand in his.

“Baby, relax. We’re going to get you out of here and you’ll be fine, I promise. Just relax.” You looked up at him and tears formed in your eyes as you shook your head.

“I-I blew it,” you managed to choke out as the medical examiners were wrapping up your foot and lifting you on to a stretcher.

“No, definitely not. You mean you blew them away, you did amazing, sweetheart.” He was quick to wipe the tears from your face as they carried you off the ice and back into the dressing room. You weren’t able to say anything; all you could do was cry into the palms of your hands.

Harry’s heart ached at the sight. He sat beside you and pulled you into his chest, kissing the top of your head.

“Baby, please no tears.” He comforted you while keeping you close as the doctor came in to check on your foot. After a few quiet moments, the only noise coming from your soft sobs, he opened his mouth to speak.

“Well, it’s definitely broken.” He confirmed. “The ankle is shattered and the navicular is split in two. This’ll take at least 8-10 weeks to heal and I want her to stay away from the ice afterwards. I know it’s disappointing, but things like this always happen,” he tried to soothe you as he slowly began casting up your foot.

“Thank you, doctor. I’ll take good care of her,” Harry replied. Your face was buried into his side, soft sobs escaping your lips.

“I’ll prescribe her some pain medication as it’ll hurt for the first couple of days. Just make sure it stays elevated and she applies absolutely no pressure to it for the first two weeks.” He packed his belonging and handed Harry your prescriptions before heading out the door. The boys had found their way back and sat around you, each one comforting you and trying to cheer you up.

“Love, you were really incredible. Just the fact that you got out there and put on a show was amazing. I personally, never in a million years, would I ever be able to do any of that. Hell, I can’t skate if me life depended on it!” Niall exclaimed, trying his best to crack a smile on your face.

It worked because you had let out a little chuckle as you wiped your face.

“Thank you, guys.” You managed to get out, your voice croaky from all the crying.

“How about we get you out of here, hm? Harry’ll take you home and we’ll go pick up the medication. Maybe you’ll get lucky and we’ll pick up some ice cream too.” Liam smiled. “Sound good?”

Harry smiled down at you, grateful that he had the boys to help him. He kissed your head and kept his arms around you making sure you were comfortable. You nodded at them and smiled, “Sounds good.”


Completely immobile, you laid in bed with your leg elevated as far as Harry could get it up. He was on his back next to you, his arm draped around your shoulder as you made yourself comfortable against his chest.

“Are you feeling okay? Does it hurt right now?” He asked as he pulled the duvet over the both of you making sure to leave the cast bare. You nodded as you popped the last spoonful of ice cream into your mouth.

“I’m okay,” you replied as you set the empty tub on the bedside table. You leaned yourself into his side as best as you could. “Just one thing,” you glanced up at him.

“Anything, baby.” He looked down at you and leaned himself up on his elbows. You looked over to the pile near the bed.

“Can you grab your shirt?” He grinned as the words fell out of your mouth, quickly getting up and reaching for the shirt you had been wearing the night before, the material all too familiar in his hands. He climbed in and helped you slide it on, pulling your arms through the holes and smiling.

“Better?” He whispered as your body relaxed against his. You gave him a soft nod and smiled. Of course it was better; your nose nuzzled against his neck breathing in his scent that was filled with vanilla and lavender, his arms wrapped around you tightly, his lips dropping soft kisses to your head every now and then, and the countless ‘I love you’s’ whispered to one another.


There you have it, my loves! Thank you to yourcb15 for requesting this one shot and I hope you guys enjoy it! Please don’t be afraid to message me with questions, feedback (highly appreciated, by the way), comments, etc. Love you all! 

Anna x 

anonymous asked:

So essentially there are dudes who get really pissy/hulk out because you won't send them nude photos? THE HELL?

i think it’s partially that they perceive we actually do love and pay attention to and interact with people (even men!) who are not them, and they all think they’re really Nice Guys and are mad they don’t get attention and love from women they clearly admire deeply.  

but i think the bigger part of it is that these admired women are perceived as both powerful, and somehow “cheating” to get that power—you see them bitch and complain that women whom they perceive as beautiful are only doing so (because beauty is perceived by them as immoral when it is an active trait, rather than a passive one [“i like girls who don’t wear makeup!” “i can only date girls who don’t know they’re beautiful, but they are!”]) in order to somehow perform a flanking maneuver on what they perceive as the proper social order.  in short, that a successful, talented artist like Molly Crabapple, who worked as a model in order to make the seed money she needed to survive, and to become successful in her artistic career, has no right to expect to be treated like a human being because, gasp, she has fed herself and put clothes on her back by “exploiting” (this is a word they use a lot to refer to women using their own bodies as labor or capital, which really tells you a lot about who he thinks a woman’s body actually belongs to) her breasts, her gender, etc.  

these are men who ravenously consume pornography while despising the women who work in the porn industry.  it creates a feedback loop of frustration that is impossible to break out of: “i want women who are sexy, but sexy women are immoral, therefore i despise them for not living up to the Madonna archetype in my Madonna/Whore worldview, and i am unable to form satisfactory attached relationships even to women i am able to meet and get along with.”  this also creates victim blaming, where any woman who is sexually harassed, attacked, or raped, can be retroactively assigned full blame for it because she was wearing an immoral garment or “teased” someone or otherwise strayed from the righteous path, as designated by the hopeful white knight.

the women they are attracted to are not perceived as human, in other words.  this makes them lonely, and as a result, they become angry and isolated and have to lash out at what they sometimes perceive as the source of their pain.  the best case scenario for these men is that they succeed in “convincing” a “whore”—remember, a woman they desperately desire and admire—to “repent”, to become “real” and “good”, and to fulfill their impossible standards of behavior.  here’s what that sadsack said to me last night, in his clumsy attempts at patronizing me: “You have so much potential, Eliza. You should spend it on something other than this.”

note the veiled threat in the use of my/our first names, something they also teach you to do at office management seminars, another gathering place of unfulfilled and tragic people.

men like this end up with realdolls, boring and repetitive porn blogs full of borderline nonconsensual scenes where women are degraded or punished but almost never pleasured alternating with iconic, “perfect”, almost holy-looking women—and MRA memberships.

and i’m going to fuck all their dads

Fic: Unlocked Part 3 (M)

A/N: Since I got finished with the Heart by Heart update early, I decided to play around with this verse for a bit. Some more K/E/L threesome smut for your weekend! Enjoy!

Part 1 / Part 2 

Unlocked Part 3

Emma had never been to Times Square.

Okay, that wasn’t strictly true. She’d driven through it a few times since moving to the city. She tried to actively avoid it; it was too loud, too bright, too touristy. She’d read about the seediness that it had years ago, how it had been revitalized and all that, but it just wasn’t for her. She watched all those crazy people on New Year’s Eve freezing their asses off and rolled her eyes, thankful to be indoors with her bottle (or two) of champagne, even if she was alone.

It was just her luck that her first true visit to Times Square was in the company of the Jones brothers.

They’d been in the city for two weeks now; it had been a little over a week since the day Emma ran into Liam in the lobby of their hotel. A very good week in Emma’s opinion. She spent a lot of time with them when they weren’t working, but they didn’t crowd her or make any demands on her. Everything was on her terms. The few times she talked herself into going home or doing some work she spent most of her time wishing she were somewhere else.

Keep reading

final-key  asked:

If I may say something about Bellamy's situation and how Luffy is reacting to it, I think Luffy is really pissed at the idea of Doflamingo doing this to one of his crewmates, especially after Luffy witnessed how much the Doflamingo family loves Doflamingo. And it's even worse that Doflamingo is throwing him around while Bellamy begs for death. Flashback to Usopp vs Luffy, after the fight Luffy was crying over hurting and leaving Usopp. So to have Luffy show consideration for Belammy is like wow.

final-key said: (Continuing off the other one, sorry!) So, I think that speaks a lot about Doflamingo’s character as a captain. Even though there are parts where his compassion for his family shows, I feel like this shows a lot about who he is. Using a loyal crewmate who loves you as much as any other senior member as a shield for a kick. That’s low for a captain.

Let me start off by saying that what Doflamingo’s done to Bellamy is horrible and gut wrenching and in no way justifiable. However… I do feel the need to make the distinction that Doflamingo is not Bellamy’s captain, and Bellamy was never part of Doflamingo’s crew. Bellamy has always been an outsider trying to make his way in—a subordinate to Doflamingo by Bellamy’s own choice, and no more a part of his crew than Disco at the Human Auction House was. Doflamingo never asked Bellamy to join him—instead Bellamy has spent his whole life pursuing him

Obviously Doflamingo’s to blame for stringing Bellamy along this entire way—for telling him he ever even had a chance at all and for putting his dream within arm’s reach and then yanking it away. Doflamingo was happy to use Bellamy for years and even happier to torment him to death when he no longer had a use for him.

Still, I don’t look at what Doflamingo’s doing to Bellamy as a case of a Captain abusing his crewmate, because like I said they aren’t Captain and crewmate. Doflamingo’s near unconditional love for his crew is one of his most important character traits to me, and I feel the need to clarify to people the difference between Doflamingo’s crew—his “family”—and people who simply work for him. One of those things he loves, and the other are disposable toys.

The Family that Doflamingo talks about here doesn’t include Bellamy. Bellamy has not been through thick and thin with Doflamingo—he saw Doflamingo from afar and idealized him, falsely believing that Doflamingo might accept him as one of his crew someday. With the sole exception of his Family, Doflamingo is an unconditionally cruel man. To all the world, save those select few he cares about, he is an absolute villain. Such a simple thing as Bellamy’s admiration for him could hardly be expected to move Doflamingo to treat him as any less disposable than the rest of the world is to him. Bellamy loving him isn’t a reason for him to love Bellamy.

SO YEAH. I know I just spent a super long time here talking about something that was more of a tangent to what you were originally saying. It doesn’t matter to Luffy that Bellamy isn’t technically a part of Dofalmingo’s crew—Luffy has hated people who abuse those who look up to them since almost the beginning of the story, and this is often one of his biggest motivations to beat the crap out of villains. Remember his fight with Kuro?

The men Kuro was attacking weren’t even friends with Luffy like Bellamy has become—Luffy even told them that he hated them when they started rooting for him against Kuro. But the fact that Kuro was abusing the trust/admiration/relationship they had with him is something that alone is enough reason to make Luffy mad as hell. In fact, this is such a major character trait of his that I was a little surprised when I looked back at his fight with Buggy and saw that Luffy DIDN’T get pissed as hell at Buggy for using his own crew as human shields (this page).

Things with Bellamy and Doflamingo right now seem like the worst Luffy’s ever seen, I think. Luffy’s seen Captains kill their crewmates before and other such things… but I do not think Luffy has ever witnessed mental/emotional torture this bad before. Luffy’s seen people die before (don’t we know it), and he’s seen people suffering, and he’s seen people plead for their lives, but I don’t think he has ever been forced to witness someone he’s called a friend beg for death.

So yeah. Wow.