most perfect man in the world

Brother, Mine (VI)

Perfect. Was it possible? Mycroft stared into Greg’s eyes, breaking apart inside.

If he’d been asked a month ago what he wanted, above everything, he’d have said peace and quiet. It was the most he could ever have asked for. It was the most he thought he could deserve - to be left alone, peacefully, safe in his solitude.

His fingertips trembled slightly on Greg’s jaw, cupping the other man’s face. He was gorgeous. He was perfection, he was everything, and he was looking at Mycroft like nobody else existed in the world.

Mycroft swallowed, hard; the muscles in his throat worked.

In the moment he started to believe it - to believe it was true, and this was happy ever after - he felt a strange shudder somewhere from his pocket.

He stiffened a little.

As he realised it was his mobile phone, his expression creased.

“Hell,” he whispered. “That’s - … damn it all, if this is work…” He fumbled inside his jacket, trying to find the phone. “Let the damn country burn,” he breathed, located the phone at last, and pulled it out.

An unfamiliar number.

He glanced at Greg, uneasy.

Family’s What You Make Of It

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

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

(Ao3 Link)

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Lisa Lawrence’s Archetypes and Symbols List

Archetypes and Symbols

SITUATION ARCHETYPES

1. The Quest – This motif describes the search for someone or some talisman which, when found and brought back, will restore fertility to a wasted land, the desolation of which is mirrored by a leader’s illness and disability.

2. The Task – This refers to a possibly superhuman feat that must be accomplished in order to fulfill the ultimate goal.

3. The Journey – The journey sends the hero in search for some truth of information necessary to restore fertility, justice, and/or harmony to the kingdom. The journey includes the series of trials and tribulations the hero faces along the way. Usually the hero descends into a real or psychological hell and is forced to discover the blackest truths, quite often concerning his faults. Once the hero is at this lowest level, he must accept personal responsibility to return to the world of the living.

4. The Initiation – This situation refers to a moment, usually psychological, in which an individual comes into maturity. He or she gains a new awareness into the nature of circumstances and problems and understands his or her responsibility for trying to resolve the dilemma. Typically, a hero receives a calling, a message or signal that he or she must make sacrifices and become responsible for getting involved in the problem. Often a hero will deny and question the calling and ultimately, in the initiation, will accept responsibility.

5. The Ritual – Not to be confused with the initiation, the ritual refers to an organized ceremony that involves honored members of a given community and an Initiate. This situation officially brings the young man or woman into the realm of the community’s adult world.

6. The Fall – Not to be confused with the awareness in the initiation, this archetype describes a descent in action from a higher to a lower state of being, an experience which might involve defilement, moral imperfection, and/or loss of innocence. This fall is often accompanied by expulsion from a kind of paradise as penalty for disobedience and/or moral transgression.

7. Death and Rebirth – The most common of all situational archetypes, this motif grows out of the parallel between the cycle of nature and the cycle of life. It refers to those situations in which someone or something, concrete and/or metaphysical dies, yet is accompanied by some sign of birth or rebirth.

8. Nature vs. Mechanistic World – Expressed in its simplest form, this refers to situations which suggest that nature is good whereas the forces of technology are bad.

9. Battle Between Good and Evil – These situations pit obvious forces which represent good and evil against one another; typically, good ultimately triumphs over evil despite great odds.

10. The Unhealable Wound – This wound, physical or psychological, cannot be healed fully. This would also indicate a loss of innocence or purity. Often the wounds’ pain drives the sufferer to desperate measures of madness.

11. The Magic Weapon – Sometimes connected with the task, this refers to a skilled individual hero’s ability to use a piece of technology in order to combat evil, continue a journey, or to prove his or her identity as a chosen individual.

12. Father-Son Conflict – Tension often results from separation during childhood or from an external source when the individuals meet as men and where the mentor often has a higher place in the affections of the hero than the natural parent. Sometimes the conflict is resolved in atonement.

13. Innate Wisdom vs. Educated Stupidity – Some characters exhibit wisdom and understanding intuitively as opposed to those supposedly in charge.

SYMBOLIC ARCHETYPES

1. Light vs. Darkness – Light usually suggests hope, renewal, OR intellectual illumination; darkness implies the unknown, ignorance, or despair.

2. Water vs. Desert – Because water is necessary to life and growth, it commonly appears as a birth or rebirth symbol. Water is used in baptism services, which solemnizes spiritual births. Similarly, the appearance of rain in a work of literature can suggest a character’s spiritual birth.

3. Heaven vs. Hell – Humanity has traditionally associated parts of the universe not accessible to it with the dwelling places of the primordial forces that govern its world. The skies and mountaintops house its gods; the bowels of the earth contain the diabolic forces that inhabit its universe.

4. Haven vs. Wilderness – Places of safety contrast sharply against the dangerous wilderness. Heroes are often sheltered for a time to regain health and resources.

5. Supernatural Intervention – The gods intervene on the side of the hero or sometimes against him.

6. Fire vs. Ice – Fire represents knowledge, light, life, and rebirth while ice like desert represents ignorance, darkness, sterility, and death.

7. Colors

A. Black (darkness) – chaos, mystery, the unknown, before existence, death, the unconscious, evil

B. Red – blood, sacrifice; violent passion, disorder, sunrise, birth, fire, emotion, wounds, death, sentiment, mother, Mars, the note C, anger, excitement, heat, physical stimulation

C. Green – hope, growth, envy, Earth, fertility, sensation, vegetation, death, water, nature, sympathy, adaptability, growth, Jupiter and Venus, the note G, envy

D. White (light) – purity, peace, innocence, goodness, Spirit, morality, creative force, the direction East, spiritual thought

E. Orange – fire, pride, ambition, egoism, Venus, the note D

F. Blue – clear sky, the day, the sea, height, depth, heaven, religious feeling, devotion, innocence, truth, spirituality, Jupiter, the note F, physical soothing and cooling

G. Violet – water, nostalgia, memory, advanced spirituality, Neptune, the note B

H. Gold – Majesty, sun, wealth, corn (life dependency), truth

I. Silver – Moon, wealth

8. Numbers:

A. Three – the Trinity (Father, Son, Holy Ghost); Mind, Body, Spirit, Birth, Life, Death

B. Four – Mankind (four limbs), four elements, four seasons

C. Six – devil, evil

D. Seven – Divinity (3) + Mankind (4) = relationship between man and God, seven deadly sins, seven days of week, seven days to create the world, seven stages of civilization, seven colors of the rainbow, seven gifts of Holy Spirit.

9. Shapes:

A. Oval – woman, passivity

B. Triangle – communication, between heaven and earth, fire, the number 3, trinity, aspiration, movement upward, return to origins, sight, light

C. Square – pluralism, earth, firmness, stability, construction, material solidity, the number four

D. Rectangle – the most rational, most secure

E. Cross – the Tree of life, axis of the world, struggle, martyrdom, orientation in space

F. Circle – Heaven, intellect, thought, sun, the number two, unity, perfection, eternity, oneness, celestial realm, hearing, sound

G. Spiral – the evolution of the universe, orbit, growth, deepening, cosmic motion, relationship between unity and multiplicity, macrocosm, breath, spirit, water

10. Nature:

A. Air – activity, creativity, breath, light, freedom (liberty), movement

B. Ascent – height, transcendence, inward journey, increasing intensity

C. Center – thought, unity, timelessness, spacelessness, paradise, creator, infinity,

D. Descent – unconscious, potentialities of being, animal nature

E. Duality – Yin-Yang, opposites, complements, positive-negative, male-female, life-death

F. Earth – passive, feminine, receptive, solid

G. Fire – the ability to transform, love, life, health, control, sun, God, passion, spiritual energy, regeneration

H. Lake – mystery, depth, unconscious

I. Crescent moon – change, transition

J. Mountain – height, mass, loftiness, center of the world, ambition, goals

K. Valley – depression, low-points, evil, unknown

L. Sun – Hero, son of Heaven, knowledge, the Divine eye, fire, life force, creative-guiding force, brightness, splendor, active awakening, healing, resurrection, ultimate wholeness

M. Water – passive, feminine

N. Rivers/Streams – life force, life cycle

O. Stars – guidance

P. Wind – Holy Spirit, life, messenger

Q. Ice/Snow – coldness, barrenness

R. Clouds/Mist – mystery, sacred

S. Rain – life giver

T. Steam – transformation to the Holy Spirit

U. Cave – feminine

V. Lightning – intuition, inspiration

W. Tree – where we learn, tree of life, tree of knowledge

X. Forest – evil, lost, fear

11. Objects:

A. Feathers – lightness, speed

B. Shadow – our dark side, evil, devil

C. Masks – concealment

D. Boats/Rafts – safe passage

E. Bridge – change, transformation

F. Right hand – rectitude, correctness

G. Left hand – deviousness

H. Feet – stability, freedom

I. Skeleton – mortality

J. Heart – love, emotions

K. Hourglass – the passage of time

CHARACTER ARCHETYPES

1. The Hero – In its simplest form, this character is the one ultimately who may fulfill a necessary task and who will restore fertility, harmony, and/or justice to a community. The hero character is the one who typically experiences an initiation, who goes the community’s ritual (s), et cetera. Often he or she will embody characteristics of YOUNG PERSON FROM THE PROVINCES, INITIATE, INNATE WISDOM, PUPIL, and SON.

2. Young Person from the Provinces – This hero is taken away as an infant or youth and raised by strangers. He or she later returns home as a stranger and able to recognize new problems and new solutions.

3. The Initiates – These are young heroes who, prior to the quest, must endure some training and ritual. They are usually innocent at this stage.

4. Mentors – These individuals serve as teachers or counselors to the initiates. Sometimes they work as role models and often serve as father or mother figure. They teach by example the skills necessary to survive the journey and quest.

5. Hunting Group of Companions – These loyal companions are willing to face any number of perils in order to be together.

6. Loyal Retainers – These individuals are like the noble sidekicks to the hero. Their duty is to protect the hero. Often the retainer reflects the hero’s nobility.

7. Friendly Beast –These animals assist the hero and reflect that nature is on the hero’s side.

8. The Devil Figure – This character represents evil incarnate. He or she may offer worldly goods, fame, or knowledge to the protagonist in exchange for possession of the soul or integrity. This figure’s main aim is to oppose the hero in his or her quest.

9. The Evil Figure with the Ultimately Good Heart – This redeemable devil figure (or servant to the devil figure) is saved by the hero’s nobility or good heart.

10. The Scapegoat – An animal or more usually a human whose death, often in a public ceremony, excuses some taint or sin that has been visited upon the community. This death often makes theme more powerful force to the hero.

11. The Outcast – This figure is banished from a community for some crime (real or imagined). The outcast is usually destined to become a wanderer.

12. The Earth Mother – This character is symbolic of fulfillment, abundance, and fertility; offers spiritual and emotional nourishment to those who she contacts; often depicted in earth colors, with large breasts and hips.

13. The Temptress – Characterized by sensuous beauty, she is one whose physical attraction may bring about the hero’s downfall.

14. The Platonic Ideal – This source of inspiration often is a physical and spiritual ideal for whom the hero has an intellectual rather than physical attraction.

15. The Unfaithful Wife – This woman, married to a man she sees as dull or distant, is attracted to a more virile or interesting man.

16. The Damsel in Distress – This vulnerable woman must be rescued by the hero. She also may be used as a trap, by an evil figure, to ensnare the hero.

17. The Star-Crossed Lovers – These two characters are engaged in a love affair that is fated to end in tragedy for one or both due to the disapproval of society, friends, family, or the gods.

18. The Creature of Nightmare – This monster, physical or abstract, is summoned from the deepest, darkest parts of the human psyche to threaten the lives of the hero/heroine. Often it is a perversion or desecration of the human body.

RECOGNIZING PATTERNS

The following list of patterns comes from the book How to Read Literature Like a Professor by Thomas C. Foster who teaches at the University of Michigan. If you are serious about literary analysis, then it is highly recommended that you buy this book. It goes into detail what is just briefly mentioned and is written in such a lively, witty voice that it does not read like a textbook at all! It will be well worth your time and effort to read it.

Ø  Trips tend to become quests to discover self.

Ø  Meals together tend to be acts of communion/community or isolation.

Ø  Ghosts, vampires, monsters, and nasty people and sometimes simply the antagonists are not about supernatural brew-ha-ha; they tend to depict some sort of exploitation.

Ø  There’s only one story. Look for allusions and archetypes.

Ø  Weather matters.

Ø  Violence and be both literal and figurative.

Ø  Symbols can be objects, images, events, and actions.

Ø  Sometimes a story is meant to change us, the readers, and through us change society.

Ø  Keep an eye out for Christ-figures.

Ø  Flying tends to represent freedom. What do you think falling represents?

Ø  Getting dunked or just sprinkled in something wet tends to be a baptism.

Ø  Geography tends to be a metaphor for the psyche.

Ø  Seasons tend to be traditional symbols.

Ø  Disabilities, Scars, and Deformities show character and theme.

Ø  Heart disease tends to represent problems with character and society.

Ø  So do illness and disease.

Ø  Read with your imagination.

Ø  Irony trumps everything!

Ø  Remember the difference between public and private symbols.

MLA Citation (7th Edition)

Lawrence, Lisa. “Archetypes and Symbols.” West Morris Central High School. West Morris Regional High School District, n.d. Web. 23 Jan. 2013. <http://central.wmrhsd.org/FACULTY…/Archetypesandsymbols.pdf>.

In The World

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

“Yuuri,” he calls, “what’s this?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

2

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

———-

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

Give me a break.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Everything You Need To Know About ‘The Great British Baking Show’

‘The Great British Baking Show’ began as a national phenomenon in the United Kingdom and is quickly becoming a cultural obsession in the United States as well. If you’re just getting into this beloved baking reality show, here’s everything you need to know to get up to speed.

Losers of the show are exiled to Saint Helena to die Napoleon’s death: Winning the show only affords you the honor of victory, but losing means you must languish powerlessly on the small island of Saint Helena until you die, just like Napoleon Bonaparte did in the wake of his failed conquest of Europe.

The show imposed an age limit of 1,000 years after the wizard Zalurax baked an evil cake that came to life: Although The Great British Baking Show welcomes amateur bakers of all backgrounds, the show was forced to add an age cap after the 2,000-year-old wizard Zalurax appeared on the show in season two disguised as a kindly old widow. By the time Zalurax’s glamour wore off and his ancient face unleashed a bone-chilling cackle, he had already baked a five-tier cake capable of strangling all of the other contestants. The cake was finally gunned down after multiple casualties and a police standoff, but Zalurax escaped in a cloud of smoke. In an attempt to prevent a disaster like this in the future, the show instated a strict age limit of 1,000 years to limit the amount of insane, ancient wizards entering the competition.

In Great Britain the show is known as Food Going’s To Happen Now: The show airs under its original title, Food’s Going To Happen Now, in the U.K., but in the U.S. it’s known as The Great British Baking Show due to Food’s Going To Happen Now being the trademarked slogan of Cracker Barrel restaurants.

The Great British Bake Off has spawned a number of copycat shows, including The Huge Croatian Man-Horse Hunt, and its spin-off, The Rescue Mission For Contestants On The Huge Croation Man-Horse Hunt: Although critics panned THCMHH for copying GBBO’s positive tone and jokey manner, critics have applauded TRMCHCMHH for its riveting tone of frantic panic as one by one the rescuers realize the Huge Croatian Man-Horse has been following them the entire time they’ve been following it.

Hundreds of contestants have tried to defeat BakeBot, but all have failed: Over the course of the show’s 64 episodes and 28 specials, no competitor has ever bested BakeBot—a robot developed by the BBC to be the perfect baking machine. BakeBot’s coldly calculating, utterly perfect computerized intelligence allows it to create the most delicious pastries and cakes in the world, and it is simply too powerful for any human contestants to out-bake. BakeBot remains undefeated to this day.

September 1st, 2017

In honor of this day today, I just want to say…thank you, Harry Potter.

Thank you for all of the emotions you brought out in me – all of the intrigue, the excitement, the love, the hate, the sorrow, and the joy.

Thank you for all of the laughter you brought me – from the snappy one-liners of Ron to the wry side-notes of Dumbledore, from the jokes of Fred and George to the over-the-top ridiculousness of Hermione’s obsessive academia.

Thank you for all of the thinking you inspired in me – how you got me theorizing what might happen next, and how you even helped inspire me to write my own stories!

Thank you for introducing me to Ron Weasley – the best friend you could ever have, who would laugh with you, cry with you, and more importantly share his time, feelings, experiences, homework answers, family, and room with you.

Thank you for introducing me to Hermione Granger – the perfect example of a superbly flawed, but powerful female character who proves herself before the whole world as the most brilliant witch of her age.

Thank you for introducing me to Luna Lovegood – a young woman with the wisdom of a sage, the spirit of an angel, and all the social grace of a deer in the headlights.

Thank you for introducing me to Neville Longbottom – a boy terrified of his own shadow who grows into a man braver than his house’s mascot.

Thank you for introducing me to Remus Lupin – the teacher that reminded me of all of my best teachers, the ones who got me excited about learning, and that also revealed himself to be not just a teacher, but something akin to family.

Thank you for introducing me to Sirius Black – a man tarred as a crazed mass-murderer but who in truth both loves and hates with all of his heart and would die rather than betray his friends.

Thank you for introducing me to Minerva McGonagall – the most bad-ass teacher on the face of the earth. And yes, I will fight you on that. *snaps fingers*

Thank you for introducing me to Rubeus Hagrid – someone I would probably hate having as a teacher in real life, but who because I’ve seen him as gamekeeper and friend for so long I couldn’t help but forgive.

Thank you for introducing me to Draco Malfoy – the most obnoxious, arrogant, self-centered, mean-spirited, petty, immature bouncing ferret ever!

Thank you for introducing me to Regulus Black – a character who we barely get to know, and yet whose sacrifice is moving enough that it helps redeem Slytherin house itself.

Thank you for introducing me to Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy – a couple I loathed for so long, only to find shades of gray in them I could never have comprehended.

Thank you for introducing me to Albus Dumbledore – a man whom I respected for so long, only to find shades of gray in him I could never have comprehended.

Thank you for introducing me to Severus Snape – no one else could have better taught me the value in writing multi-faceted, complex, morally gray characters.

Thank you for introducing me to Cedric Diggory – a true Hufflepuff and a true hero, taken all too soon.

Thank you for introducing me to Fred and George Weasley – the truest mischief makers, and also some of the most brilliant.

Thank you for introducing me to Dudley Dursley – everything I loathe in humankind instilled into one person, only for him to redeem himself in one short, truly honest meeting of the minds between him and Harry.

Thank you for introducing me to Gilderoy Lockhart – how I laughed at this man, and yet how much I longed to slap him in the face!

Thank you for introducing me to Cornelius Fudge – a politician who seemed right at home in my own world, as I ventured into the world of politics.

Thank you for introducing me to Dolores Umbridge – a character the likes of which I will likely loathe more than any other fictional being in any universe.

Thank you for introducing me to Horace Slughorn – a teacher at Hogwarts I think I would’ve enjoyed knowing almost more than any other, if only to hear some of his amazing stories.

Thank you for introducing me to Arthur and Molly Weasley – a couple that made me laugh and made me hug myself to keep in all the “awwww”s.

Thank you for introducing me to Tom Marvolo Riddle – a boy with many talents and no love in his soul who grew up to terrorize the world.

And most of all…thank you for introducing me to Harry. Brave Harry. Rash Harry. Selfless Harry. Snarky Harry. Lonely, awkward, modest, athletic, sneaky, clever, thoughtful, angsty, hot-tempered, heroic, academically lazy Harry. Harry, who hides in the bushes under an open window to listen to the news. Harry, who starts chatting it up with a snake in a reptile house. Harry, who without skipping a beat chooses a poor boy offering nothing but honest friendship over a rich boy offering to help him elevate himself.

How many ways can I say “thank you”, Harry Potter? You have changed me in too many ways. You’ve changed the way I write, both in sentence structure and how I write plot and characters. You’ve changed the way I analyze stories. You’ve changed the way I define myself, by introducing Hogwarts houses!

I suppose all I can really say is…you’ll be with me. Until the end.

shit that happens in the italian BatB dub

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

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

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

But people simply ignore a big elephant in the room.

Ardyn didn’t cure Starscourge. 

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

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

Keep reading


[The wonderful @bloomsbury made this fantastic art of Dany x Jon in Pride and Prejudice annnnnnd I just couldn’t help myself!!! (I have permission to post fyi!) I’ve NEVER written this kind of AU before, but I’m a big Jane Austen fan, so this was a must for me. ANYWAY. It’s pretty traditional as far as Austen goes ESPECIALLY when Liz and Darcy meet, so I hope you like it!] 

Read on Ao3 here! Annnnnd due to many a positive feedback I’m going to be turning this into a story I guess! Thanks for reading and for the encouragement guys. 


“Father says you are to meet Mr. Drogo at the ball tonight. If you’re lucky he will pick you over that insufferable Stark or Lannister girl… ” Viserys snarled with lips pursed and eyes narrowed as he look down on her, scanning her face and light purple dress carefully. Reminding her that he had been left in charge with a single gaze.

Dany knew there would be many men looking for wives at this ball. She also knew that for every eligible husband there would be two times as many sneaky rat like men with a daughters or sisters they wanted to trade for lands and wealth. This was just the way of the world, and she knew it. Marrying for love didn’t happen… it was gold and copper that mattered and Khal Drogo had a mountain of it. 

Viserys and her father were ambitious, she’d give them that. They didn’t want just any man to wed her, they wanted one of the richest and most successful men in England. Mr. Drogo was wealthy in ships, horses and men. He was perfect in her fathers eyes and as much as she didn’t want to marry him, or any other man… She didn’t have a choice. She never had a choice.

“We need this. It is your duty, dear sister… Don’t forget it.”

Daenerys never liked when her brother ended with those words. Especially when it came to topics such as this… Topics about her life that she wasn’t allowed any say in. It drove her mad. Just as mad as the rumors about her father had been… She dreamed of a life where she would be free to make her own choices and do as she please, but she also knew that life would never exist. So instead she listened to his words of duty, and orders of obedience.

Today her duty was to impress, so impress she would. 

Before she knew where the time had gone they were already entering Meryton. She walked through the doors of that beautiful estate in awe, as her lilac eyes slid to each bright color and the bustle of movement around her. In the moments she walked slowly up the stairs towards the shuffle of music filled feet and booze filled laugher she felt her heart growing anxious.

Dany had never been to a ball before. Not one of this size, with this type of crowd, or these kinds of expectations… She didn’t even really know where to start, so she made her way towards the servers circling the room with elevated trays of crystal. When one came close enough she snatch one from the pedestal with a small smile as she bring the cool glass to her lips. Drinking slowly as she try and spot the man her family expect her to enchant…

But before she could get too deep into her search she felt two slender fingers poking her in either side of the stomach softly. Daenerys turned in a panicked jump to see Sansa Stark wearing the widest smile she’d seen her wear. Sansa looked beautiful; she was wearing the most gorgeous green gown that complimented her hair and eyes perfectly. 

Daenerys smiled wide passing a tight hug around her, for a moment forgetting what was expected of her. “It’s so wonderful to see you. I’ve missed you so much.” 

“And I’ve missed you.” Sansa released her, sliding her hands down both of Dany’s bare arms until she reached her hands, holding them within hers affectionately. “How long have you been here? You didn’t come find me sooner?” She smiled again leaning forward playfully. Her voice was soft and lined with excitement. 

“I only just arrived. My brother always was one to be late…” She said with a sigh. “You know how he can be.”

“Do I ever.” Sansa replied with a softer more sympathetic smile. “Shall we? It would please me to introduce you to Mr. Bingly…” Her lips curled mischievously as her eyebrow raised. 

Daenerys knew just what that look was and she couldn’t deny her friend her moment to brag. After she roll her eyes playfully she smiled back allowing herself to be pulled forward through the crowds of dancing and drinking people.

“My father tells me that you’ve been spending quite a lot of time with Mr. Bingley…” Dany’s voice was singsongy as she teased innocently. She’d heard many great things about him, but this was her best friend and she didn’t trust that any man could be good enough for her.

Sansa turned back lowering her posture as she grabbed Dany by the arms again lightly. “He’s a good man, Dany. I swear it. Father would never make me wed him if he wasn’t – I didn’t me…” 

The both of them realized what had been alluded, and Daenerys could see the remorse spread over Sansa’s pale face. She knew they all had duties in this life, but it made her hopeful that at least Eddard Stark wasn’t the same kind of man her father was… 

After a moments pause Dany softened her gaze and continued. “Oh I know, Sansa. If you’re fond of him, then I like him… honest.”

“Wonderful. There’s something else… I think you might be interested in Bingley’s friend, Jon. I’ve only known him a short while, but- Oh, don’t look at me like that.”

And just like that Dany stopped to look to her with lilac eyes spread wide in confusion. “I’m fairly certain there isn’t a man here that I’d be interested in.” She was confident as she eye the space around them. Playing for just a moment with the idea that she was in charge of such decisions…

Sansa scoffed shaking her head as she pull her forward once more, playing along just the same. Her voice only a little insinuating. “One of these days, Dany. Someone will catch those eyes of yours.”

Daenerys wondered if it were true. If she’d ever find a man that didn’t disgust her, or one she could love. Granted she didn’t know many men and the men she did know weren’t the best examples. But even if she didn’t find love or happiness, she’d do what she must.

Today her duty was to find a husband, so find a husband she would. 

Sansa turned sharply standing close to Daenerys from almost a foot above; causing Dany to nearly spill what remain in her glass over the both of them. “What?” She asked wide eyed scanning their gowns for any sign of a mess. 

“Over my shoulder… the one to the left is Bingley. The other is Mr. Snow…”

Dany slid her head to the side eyeing both men carefully. Bingley was tall, and had a head of hair nearly as red as Sansa’s had been. The man beside him was just as tall but broader shouldered and had darker more burdened eyes. His hair was black as night and was half pulled back from his eyes.

“Who?” Dany asked mocking confusion as she narrow her eyes on them watching Bingley smile and laugh with those around him and as this Jon Snow stare brooding and bored beside him.

“Jon!” She whispered loudly, as though the answer was obvious. Noticing only a second too late that it was.

“He looks miserable, Sansa. You must’ve known I’d find that the opposite of interesting.” Daenerys still stare at the two as she reply back in a low whisper. The noises of the party almost buried her reply within them. 

Sansa thew her eyes over her shoulder and let her face drop in disappointment at the sight. After another sigh she turned back towards Daenerys with a smile and light eyes offering a weak reply. “Oh, you’re right… But he can’t be worse that that man your brother is talking to, can he?” She signaled behind Daenerys towards her brother and Mr. Drogo. “Plus, he’s at least twice as wealthy and I doubt Viserys or your father would argue with that…”

Daenerys dare not look, for if she did he’d summon her immediately. Instead she nodded briefly before speaking again. “I suppose you’re right… Well go on then.” She finished as Sansa pull her lightly by the hand once more making the final stretch forward. 

“Sansa.” Mr. Bingly spoke with admiration as his eyes light up at the sight of her. It was clear he was enamored, and by the look she returned it was obvious she felt the same. “Are you enjoying the ball?” 

Daenerys stood with hands linked in front of her as she eye this Jon Snow as sneakily as possible. He was rather handsome, she had to admit. But when she lock eyes with him he dart his gaze almost immediately away, leaving her puzzled in both mind and across her face.

“It’s lovely, Bingley.” Sansa stepped closer to him still holding Dany’s hand within her fingertips. They shared a look of devotion before Sansa spoke again, with a lighter voice than before. “This is my dear friend, Dany Bennet. She’s sister to Viserys Targaryen…” Sansa put a hand softly on Dany’s shoulder as she look to Jon.

“It is lovely to meet you, Dany.” Bingley smiled sincerely as he lower his head to a bow. “This is Jon Snow. He’s an old friend of mine.” 

“Mr. Snow.” Dany addressed him as she look to his face once more. This time he’d already been staring at her, and he wasn’t looking away. But he didn’t speak either… He just look at her with lowered brow as if he were severely inconvenienced by the whole thing.

Bingley threw Sansa a bewildering glance before changing his gaze to Jon in full. They all noticed the way he stare at Dany under furrowed eyes with lips set lightly together. 

After a moment of silence Jon took a slight breath in before lowing his head in a low bow finally speaking towards his feet. “If you’ll excuse me.” 

The three of them watched open mouthed and wide eyed as he turn and walk gracefully through the crowds. Dany’s eyes changed further, this time she was upset, and maybe even a little angry. She’d never met this Jon Snow, and yet he was clearly partial to her. Not even Sansa’s soft hand to her shoulder was enough shop her her gaze from lowering to a disappointed glare. 

“That was rather rude…” Sansa spoke as she look to Bingley for any sign of what had happened.

“I’m sorry, Miss Bennet. He-Jon must be very tired, it was quite the ride from Pemberley…” Bingly sent her sympathetic smile, hoping that was consolation enough.

“You needn’t apologize for the actions of others, Mr. Bingley.” Dany sent him a soft smile as she place a hand above Sansa’s elbow, giving it a light squeeze before turning to find any place that was not there. 

Daenerys wished to be outside or alone with Sansa even, but she knew her brother would want to see her by now… The night was progressing and he’d expected her ages ago, yet here she was offending strangers with mere looks and hellos. Rather than wake the dragon she complied to his warnings in her mind, offering her prettiest of smiles as she walk towards Viserys where he sat with Mr. Drogo. 

Today her duty was to charm, so charm she would.

They spent well over an hour talking of less awkward things and before long she’d almost forgotten completely about this Jon Snow and his inability to be polite. That was until she heard him talking to Mr. Bingley just behind her… He must not have seen her there; that or he really was just as cruel as the other men she knew.

‘She is barely tolerable.’ Dany had heard him say… 

More time pass as Daenerys tried to ignore the annoying bubbling she felt stirring low in her stomach. She felt that sickness light a fire within her as she repeated his word over and over in her mind… 

Who did this Jon Snow think he was? Why did he feel like he knew her well enough to judge her worth within a few short seconds… She said but two words to him, and yet he seemed so indifferent to her. 

That’s when she saw him… All of a sudden there he was. Just standing across from her between Mr. Drogo and her bother, doing nothing but looking right at her. His hands were hidden within his dark slim coat pockets, and his brow was just as low. Dany looked around suddenly seeing Sansa and Bingley standing closely behind Jon as they speak quietly to each other with soft smiles.

Daenerys pulled her lips tighter and swallowed down the knot forming in her throat as she lock eyes with him once more. How long had be standing been there? Better yet, how long had she been staring at nothing in silence as she fixated on his… 

“Daenerys is quite the beauty don’t you think, Mr. Drogo? When she was only 15 there was a gentlemen so taken with her, I thought he’d ask for her hand…” Viserys paused looking to Daenerys with a side smile.

This was when she realized what they’d been talking about… All of a sudden she was embarrassed, and her heart began racing inside her cage of a chest. She was embarrassed he’d speak of such things to strangers, she was embarrassed this Jon was here to hear them… 

But still she didn’t speak, she just stare into this Jon Snows dark eyes he hid beneath roughened brow .

“Pity… However he did write you some lovely poetry before didn’t he, sister?” Viserys was almost condescending when he spoke, but he knew just how to speak to weave a spell; and by the way Mr. Drogo looked over his sister, he knew he’d done it again.

“Poetry is more suited for driving away love if you ask me.” Daenerys said back sharply. The surprise even she felt at her response wasn’t visible on her face, and she hoped Viserys wouldn’t tell their father… Something in the way Mr. Drogo was looking at her told her he wouldn’t though.

“Dan-”

“I thought poetry was the food of love?” Jon interrupted Mr. Drogo suddenly. He didn’t look to anyone but Daenerys when he spoke with heavy eyes and arms fastened firmly behind his back. 

“Perhaps if it were a fine love… But I’m convinced if it is only a vague inclination, well, such words would kill it dead.” Dany replied flatly. She didn’t look from him once, but she noticed all of the eyes moving towards them both. “Some words cannot be put back once spoken, Mr. Snow.”

“So what is it you do recommend?” Jon asked back curiously, tossing the smallest of glances to those around him as he shift his weight then look back to her.

“Dancing… If ones partner is barely tolerable.” After a second she took a deep breath, watching as he shift his dark eyes back towards Bingley who was now at his side, and as Sansa look to her with lips slightly parted. 

“She is a dragon after all…” 

Dany watched the wide smile that spread over Mr. Drogo’s mouth as he narrowed his eyes on her as he began to laugh… Dany knew that look. That was the look her father wanted, the look Viserys needed… Moments later Viserys and the others joined in on his loud laughter. But not Jon. And not Daenerys. 

After a second she slid her eyes from her brother and Drogo’s pleased faces back to Mr. Snow. He had already been looking at her. Again. But this time in those dark eyes was a look she didn’t know so well. In those moments neither of them spoke, and that unknown stare sent a strange wave through her that ended low then spread like a warm wave. 

In an instant she curtsey with forced smile and turned abruptly making her way from the ball. 

Today her duty was to to be content, but content she was not…

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

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

Without further ado…




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

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

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

And it was impossible not to fall in love.

***

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

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

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He was mesmerizing.

***

And they never saw him fall like she did.

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

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

***

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

Behind closed doors. Where everything happens.

Her touch couldn’t help him that night.

Her begging and pleading couldn’t save him.

Her love could not save them.

***

What did she do?

What did she not do?

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




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

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

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

“Harry.”

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

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

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

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

“Wha’ ‘appened, love.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

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

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

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

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

“Can ye’ han’ me a towel?”

Of course.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“G'na make a note of tha’.”

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

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And she never thought it would feel this good.

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

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

All she can do is moan.

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

Did she do something?

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

“Everything okay, H?”

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

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

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

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

“Don’t have to, if you don’t want.”

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

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

“Not tonight, pet.”

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

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

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

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

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

But the tears don’t stop.

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

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

How could he have done this to her.

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

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

***

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

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

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

***

How did they end up here.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It meant nothing and I-”

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

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

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

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

“M'sorry, love. M'so so sorry.”

Suddenly, it clicks in her head.

“No,” she whispers in sudden realization.

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

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

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

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

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

“Stop.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

He’s losing her, he feels it.

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

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

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

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

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

“Out.” There’s no changing her mind.

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

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

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

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

But it’s real. And it hurts.

anonymous asked:

can you say something positive about this show bc i truly feel horrible and all i see are negative comments

sure thing fam! I’ve got a million and one great things to say about shadowhunters! 

the cast

  • let’s start with the cast…..oh man the cast, have you ever seen or heard of a lovelier group of people? a sweet and perfect redheaded angel? a cow-loving  farmer sunflower man? a sexy british rapscallion? a latina goddess who is the sweetest angel in the world? a hilarious but also very profound and extremely talent soft brooklyn hipster? the most talented dancer/human to ever grace the world who is also a complete wondeful dork? the sweetest and funniest and most wonderful person who ever did wear an ascot? they’re perfect 
  • nothing makes me happier than their friendships with each other and just their general sweetness :))))
  • i mean every dynamic of theirs is adorable and hilarious? kat and alberto’s friendship, domberto’s antics, the parabatri feels, dom’s lil crush on matthew, the esther/shelby/shumdario friendship! em being an older sister to kat!! how lovely are they all!!
  • and of course, of course, how earnest they are towards the show because they know how important it is to all of us, and it’s heartwarming to see all the effort that they put into the show, as well as the amount of respect and compassion they have while interacting with fans is the most wonderful thing 
  • and of course, the fact that the people behind the show always listen to and respond to fan feedback, positive or negative! they really care about us, and it’s lovely to see :) 

the show 

  • personally, i think the writing of the show has gotten amazing! season 1 was fantastic, but all of the sort of cringey dialogue and ‘wow, nobody would actually say those words’ is gone and everything is much more textured and real, and it’s really really really living up to the potential of its premise! 
  • it’s got a gritty NYC setting and its about badass angelic soldiers fighting a demon apocalypse, all while battling these insidious problems inside their own society as well, with no real moral high ground to be achieved, but really just a scramble for survival and trying to do the right thing,  and the tone of the new season is JUST PERFECT for that 
  •  i think the show has such amazing and dimensionalized relationships like i haven’t seen in a lot of much more highbrow fiction - the romantic stuff too, but i love how important and well-written platonic and family relationships are in the show! 
  • you look at a family like the lightwoods, and they’re so real - not just the love that they have for each other, but also the issues that they face, and the struggles between parents and children and siblings. amazing. well-written AS FUCK 
  • the bonds between alec and izzy and jace!! are so well-written, so well-acted!! the relationships between luke and clary/simon/maia!! astonishingly good
  • there’s so much texture and richness to all of them it’s crazy 
  • but not JUST those super close familial relationships - every single interaction has me floored with how great it is, including ‘rare’ ones like jace and magnus, or clary and alec, or clary and magnus, or magnus and izzy
  • every character has such great acting chemistry with one another, and so every relationship just comes across as rich and real in a way that a lot of lesser shows can’t accomplish 
  • let’s talk about acting! how amazingly has every cast member improved over the course of the show? even if they didn’t start off the first season as amazing, can you believe how great everyone is? how beautifully kat captured the grief of losing jocelyn in 2x05? how amazingly dom is portraying jace’s inner struggles and suffering about valentine and his identity? how much dimension and depth harry can give us in just one glance? how matt perfectly portrays the inner conflicts of a man who was never allowed to show his true feelings on his face? how beautifully alberto shows the struggle of not belonging anywhere that you used to call home? with what grace emeraude brings us izzy’s trials and suffering? how perfectly isaiah depicted not only the grief over losing everything - his world, his parabatai, the woman he loves, but also the struggles of having to get up from the pain and be there for his children? amazing. hats off to all and emmys all around 
  • every character also has so much - so much - dimension?
  • like, not a single one of the characters is the type of YA-fantasy caricature than you see so much in this genre - each of them is fully fleshed out with flaws and strengths, and each character interacts and copes with the horrible events of their lives in completely different ways, and it’s just lovely to see that kind of commitment to character even on a fantasy/action-driven show, and that not all of it has to be directly addressed and shoved in your face, but can be communicated through subtleties of acting and writing 
  • and each of them has their own critical/crucial role to play in the story? none of them are incidental or disposable and i love it! 
  • the special effects in season two are SO! damn!! good!! holy hell did you see the warlock fight this episode? beautiful! astonishing! 
  • i love the mythology of the show! it’s so crazy interesting to explore this world, because it’s not the type of world you see in a typical YA-low-fantasy type of setting - the shadowhunters’ society is such a new and refreshing mythology, with all of their customs and their ceremonies and their laws and myths and angels and runes - i love seeing them unveil more and more of it, because it’s honestly so original and interesting 
  • like did you see the rune ceremony in this ep? it was almost haunting b/c i just love thinking about this ancient order of angelic warriors and of course all of the complications of the societal hierarchies in relation to the other types of magical races
  • and don’t get me started on the other types of mythologies, especially warlocks! i love the idea of all these esoteric spells and potions and crap that shadowhunters don’t even know about and can’t even imagine the power of - it’s so interesting and i love how they’re fleshing it all out bit by bit 
  • and i love the merging of the regular urban NYC setting with the shadow word, in locales like the jade wolf, the hotel dumort, and even the insitute - how interesting and seamless it seems sometimes? it just gives the world so much texture
  • and of course, the romance is great! like i said, every actor has fantastic chemistry with each other - even if they’re not endgames like simon/maia or climon, they’re so well-acted and well portrayed 
  • malec is fantastic - i’ve almost never seen a relationship on a show portrayed with such gravitas and realness! i love how they didn’t let either character get subsumed by the relationship, but they’re also not ignoring the existence of it to give the character their own storylines independent of it 
  • and of course it’s so darn cute :) and harry and matthew put so much time and effort into it and im so thankful for them 
6

Girl Meets World Gender-Bend.

✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩

Riley Ricky Matthews 
Ricky’s never been a rebel, he leaves the trouble making up to his best friend, Miles. But what he lacks in spontaneity he makes up for in compassion. Although proven to be incredibly intelligent, Ricky is constantly underestimated because of his optimistic personality and desire to be accepted. Often feeling lost and unworthy (due to his highly successful parents) he struggles to find his place in the world. He feels most at home with a camera around his neck and a pen & notebook in hand. 

Lucas Lucy Friar
Being the only child of a military man, Lucy’s never stayed in one place long enough to make a connection so when her and her family moves to NY she takes up sports as a way to make friends and let out her aggression. Much to her dismay, her father wont accept anything less than perfect which leaves her in constant fear of failing. 

Isadora Isaac Smackle
Being the smartest guy in school has it’s advantages but doesn’t exactly do much for his social life. Isaac has spent practically his entire life being the best at everything he does, that is until he meets a gorgeous blue-eyed brunette who gives him a run for his money. His no-filter attitude is usually taken the wrong way but those that know him understand just how caring he can be.

Farkle Fiona Minkus
It’s no secret that Fiona is loaded but on top of being the richest kid at Abigail Adams High she’s also the smartest. At least, according to her. Fiona can sometimes be slightly problematic but her confidence in herself and her academic achievements are commendable to say the least. She much rather brag about her GPA than her father’s helicopter.

Zay Zoe Babineaux
Never the best at making first impressions, Zoe has a hard time making friends when she transfers to AA High. Her sense of humor and sarcastic remarks often get her into trouble but it’s her hopeless romantic nature that surprises people most when they get to know her. That and her breathtaking ballet skills. 

Maya Miles Hart
Prone to creating chaos, Miles has the tendency to get into trouble and more often than not has to turn to Ricky to bail him out. He puts on this tough guy facade but in actuality he’s just as insecure as the rest of his friends. His soft side is something he hardly shows but when he does it’s usually only around his close friends. He’s not very academically bright but put a paintbrush in his hands and he’ll paint you a masterpiece.

anonymous asked:

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

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


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

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

But.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I just want to tell something to most everyone who felt the need to explain how Liam for ME:A is going to be okay, because you believe.

Straights and/or Whites/Non-Blacks (and/or Men for Sera) saying that Sera and Jacob were written perfect have literally no effect on how I feel about how badly they were written.

Like I’m sorry if it sounds mean, but it is a fucking reality that SHOCK, SURPRISE the straight, white, and/or men liked the marginalized characters a Straight White Man wrote.

Marginalized people are oversensitive to these things, not because we’re petty. But again SHOCK, SURPRISE we are raised in a world where we are constantly pelted with backhanded comments, micro-aggression, and unknowing/unconscious “polite” bigots.

Racism, Homophobia/Lesbophobia, and Misogyny can be subtle, it can be subtext, and it can still fuck you up. It can still be internalized, it can still keep all those bigoted mindsets alive. It can confirm stereotypes, it can validate a bigot without meaning to, it can instill unconscious bias (because humans are fucking weak mentally).

So yeah, good on you for having faith. But I don’t have to have shit. I’m CONCERNED, as a Black Person. I AM CONCERNED.

As someone who has followed Bioware for a while loyally and seen Liam’s writer fail to write sympathetic marginalized character, without some “quirk” and insult on their character. I AM CONCERNED.

As someone who has seen Branka’s and Hespith’s “tragic lesbian love story” written by HIM. As someone who has seen Marjolaine’s and Leliana’s “tragic lesbian love story” written by HIM. As someone who has seen Jacob “Black Stereotype” Taylor written by HIM. Aveline “That Slattern” Vallen written by HIM, and Sera “Crazy, Internalized Racist Lesbian” written by HIM. I AM CONCERNED.

You telling me it’ll be okay, isn’t going to make me suddenly believe a man who still being lauded for his work despite the above, is going to drastically change his writing style after 16 consecutive years of poor creative decisions.