oh how i wish they were

Today I was mistaken for a doctor and… it felt kind of nice?

I remember in high school ’s lot of my friends were telling me how much I was a lady’s man cuz really pretty girls had crushes on me. But one time this dude was telling me how he wish he could get a gf and how lucky i am and I just came back from sucking my friends dick and I was like “oh yeah haha”

this is going to sound like such a Tumblr Story but I swear it’s happening as i type but like. outside my dorm window these guys were playing catch and they asked their friend to join him and i heard something muttered and then the other guy was like “you’re in college and you don’t know how to throw a football?” and like up in my room i was grimacing bc here come the Gay Sissy jokes obviously but instead - the kid goes “that’s okay! we’ll teach you.” and for the last hour they’ve been teaching him how to play like i’ve been listening and i guess you want to catch with your fingertips and use your elbows and bend your knees and think about your wrists and they’re …? actually being so kind and saying like ? some of the most constructive criticism i’ve ever heard surrounded by things like “oh! great job on that catch” “sweet throw! now you’re getting it!” and … my heart has never been so warm

i just wish this world like told boys… it’s okay to be like this. it’s okay to be supportive and friendly and frankly nurturing to other boys. i wish boys were allowed to be gentle and sweet and kind. boys….. be good, upturn the patriarchal standards and homophobia entrenched in this culture…. go teach a guy how to throw a ball. 

my mom's comments on every act 2 hamilton song
  • What'd I Miss: oh THIS is Thomas Jefferson!!
  • Cabinet Battle #1: "turn around bend over i'll show you where my shoe fits" still more civilized than the 2016 presidential debates though
  • Take A Break: philip grew up fast
  • Say No To This: how hot was this hamilton anyway (me: what why) a lot of people seem to be in love with him i'm just wondering
  • The Room Where It Happens: this must be your favorite song, because it's about wanting to be included
  • Schuyler Defeated: *hears first four notes* i thought we already heard this song
  • Cabinet Battle #2: i wish all debates were just rap battles
  • Washington on Your Side: the fast talking guy is back
  • One Last Time: did he die
  • I Know Him: is this the king again (me: yes) oh i thought he died or something
  • The Adams Administration: "sit down john you fat motha--" i thought he was friends with john though (me: nope wrong john)
  • We Know: "my god" is it weird that his voice is soothing to me
  • Hurricane: intense
  • The Reynolds Pamphlet: were the hamiltons like the kardashians
  • Burn: this is angelica right (me: no it's eliza) well the hamilton doesn't deserve her
  • Blow Us All Away: "How about when i get back we all strip down to our socks" I DONT LIKE THIS BOY
  • Stay Alive Reprise: oh no.
  • It's Quiet Uptown: i should be crying but it makes me wonder if i would be this sad if you died, and i don't know if i would be, so now i'm just guilty (me: oh my god)
  • The Election of 1800: "can we get back to politics please" i agree
  • Your Obedient Servant: this song is almost as passive aggressive as you are
  • Best of Wives and Best of Women: how did she forgive him
  • The World Was Wide Enough: "the world was wide enough for both hamilton and me" wow
  • Who Lives, Who Dies, Who Tells Your Story: if your father cheated on me and then wrote a song about it i probably would not do anything for him again
  • Conclusion: good music but i'm still not buying you tickets
His || Jungkook || 0.6

Member: Jungkook x Reader

Type: Angst, Fluff, Smut.

Teaser | 0.1 | 0.2 | 0.3 | 0.4 | 0.5 | 0.6

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anonymous asked:

if you couldve written the episode how would you have done it?

Keeping it as close to canon as is reasonable, here’s the changes I would make:


For starters, I wouldn’t have it so that Eobard decided to keep the Legends alive.

As someone (I forget who, sorry. Maybe @kendrasaunders​?) pointed out, Eobard was willing to kill Cisco, who he loved like a son, for maybe being a liability in his plans. He likes poetic justice, but he was trying to kill Barry as a child to extract someone that would later become a thorn in his side. He’s not the guy who says “hey, let’s keep our enemies alive for funsies”.

But then again, I think there would be easy to write around. Eobard needs Martin alive because he needs his brain. Beyond that, it appeases Mick to keep his friends alive, and Mick did get them the spear, so the legion is like “yeah sure, until they become a problem, but we’re not letting them totally off the hook”. The Legion finds the Legends frustrating, but honestly it’s not like there’s any huge animosity between Eobard and most of them (like Ray??? Jax??) or between Malcolm and most of them (except Sara really) and Damien is just… Damien.

So Mick ensures they don’t end up in any true horror versions of their lives (because really, being a janitor isn’t going to be Ray’s “worst nightmare” or “personal hell”, he’s just unfulfilled. Nate’s life and Jax’s life seem not great but not horrific except that Eobard is threatening Jax). The Legion wants them dispersed and not happy, but Mick makes sure they don’t end up totally fucked.

Damien can still be all for taunting Sara by keeping her under his employ with Amaya, but I’d prefer them not to be so sexualized and submissive, personally. I get that Damien’s a complete creep though.

Damien doesn’t get to keep the Flash’s head as a trophy. Write a few throwaway lines about how Eobard killed the Flash after regaining the speedforce and how satisfying it was for him. Make it so that Cisco and Caitlin are there and adore Eobard and are friends with him. He mentioned missing them, after all. (And have a line about why he hasn’t returned to the future yet, or make it so that’s in his plans for after he destroys the spear?)

I liked Malcolm’s personal perfect world but I’d prefer there have been no mention of Nyssa unless it was something like “she’s dead” because forcing her into the closet was pretty terrible. I’d have preferred they say something to the effect of Oliver Queen dying on the Queen’s Gambit with his father, or else never grew up beyond being a spoiled rich brat who is bff’s with Tommy.

I would’ve had Len and Mick doing their thing but had Len express boredom with how easy stealing is, acknowledge he’s maybe made a mistake. Have him share his own frustration while trying to appease Mick. “We don’t get to have the rush of a real chase anymore unless we re-write reality. And guess who doesn’t want us to do that.” Set up Len vs. Eobard before Eobard calls him, and then have Eobard call him “speak of the devil” and ‘summon’ them.

That’s when it could start to become clear that the Legends are alive because of Mick, and make it so that Len helped negotiate on Mick’s behalf.

Maintain some of the rest of the episode. Someone save Brandon Routh from that terrible weird 90′s style janitor thing. 

Have the entire team argue about whether to trust Mick. Have Ray and Amaya stand up for him against Sara. 

Have Jax torn: we were a team man. 

Mick: he was my partner. You’d do the same for yours. (referring to Martin)

Jax shaking his head, hurt: No… I wouldn’t.

Have that be a moment where Mick realizes that loyalty to a group and loyalty to one person really do look different. Loyalty to an ideal. He’s not fully ready for the realization yet, so he reacts a little too knee-jerk and tells them to go, he’ll stay behind, they don’t want him anyway. Have Ray and Amaya look hurt but accede to his wishes.

Then have Mick call up Len, and when asked if he’s been cut loose, have Mick say… “I cut them loose. I don’t know how to be on a team.”

Make it poignant but more his choice. Make it clear he’s sad he doesn’t know what he’s doing, or how to make this right.

When Len and Mick go to the Legion, Mick has a demand. “The Legends live. This time, when we re-write reality to get rid of that speedster, we’re giving them better lives so they aren’t miserable enough to need fixing.”

The Legion argues but Mick puts his foot down. If they want his help, this is how it’s gonna be, and they wouldn’t even have the spear if it weren’t for him. Possibly make Damien and Malcolm demand that Sara at least has to die, if he wants the rest of his friends to be happy and whole, and possibly allow Mick to agree. Show that there really is bad blood there, but make it clear on Mick’s face that he’s sad/ashamed to agree to that.

Then Mick shares the details of the Legends’ plan etc, and we head toward the battle.

Which goes down roughly the same way? Except when Mick picks up the spear, change the dialogue. Have Len ask for it, but have someone else deliver the line about Mick being a good boy. This could go either way. It could be someone on the Legion, like Eobard manipulating them, or Damien or Malcolm being pissed about the situation. Or it could be a Legend, Sara, saying it scathingly. 

Amaya would still interject that she believes in Mick, no matter what he does.

Mick would glare at whoever called him a good boy, and still ask Len if that’s how he sees him, as an attack dog and Len would still deny it. Except Len wouldn’t derogate his intelligence. He’s say something more along the lines of “you’re the muscle and I’m the brain and that’s how it’s always been, but it’s always been equal – we’re partners.” And that would harken back to a line Mick said before about being the muscle while Len is the brain, which itself was a prison break reference/allusion. But it would be a parallel that gets at the same idea without insulting Mick.

And then Amaya would say “and we’re your team.”

Len: “they change reality and I die, mick.”

And Mick would toss the spear to amaya. “i’m no one’s dog” he’d say to Sara or Eobard or whoever delivered that line. “i’m no genius either. but i know enough to know that a team – that means something. you knew that too, when you died. you taught me that. i have to make right what i ruined. amaya, fix this.”

and she would, and len would shoot her, and instead of saying what he did he would instead say, “i’m so sorry mick. it was her or me.” (because it is, in his mind, and that makes it explicit that he shot her out of defense of his existence and not just to hurt mick).

aaaand yeah, then end the rest of the episode the same way, so that the lead in to the finale can still be the same.

I wouldn’t change anything with Rip except to either make that more comedic or less. It was in a weird middle ground….

I’m sorry we let you boys down..

I’m sorry no one noticed your cries for help. I’m sorry that no one stuck up for you when you needed them to the most.

I’m sorry that you felt the only way you could get people to listen was to cause harm and I’m sorry that you felt you had to cause harm because of how these people made you felt.

What you boys did wasn’t okay, I’m sure you know that by now. You’re probably looking at me right now thinking I’m just like the rest of them.

Dylan, Eric, I wish you had realized that if you held on for a couple more months everything would have been better for you, but I’m sure you realized that.

I’m sure you knew that well what if you had graduated? Would it stop? Oh no, you were too far into the plan by now. You couldn’t just get rid of all the bombs you had made and the guns you acquired. You went too far.

Dylan, you were excited for college. I know “another few years of the torment”, I know it just meant more school and more bullying but it could’ve been better for you, we can all see how much potential you had and that isn’t a lie. You were a handsome young man with potential to be something big, you would be so proud of how computers are now!

Eric, you were bright too. You had potential just like Dylan did and there’s a new Doom game out, funny right? I bet you didn’t realize your Doom levels would have so many views and so many people playing them. Does that make you happy? 

You boys left such an image on the world, you helped everyone recognize bullying, you helped bring up the conversations about school violence and mental health. You boys had so much potential but you threw it away for what? A little revenge on people you didn’t even really know?

Dylan, Eric, you were selfish. You shouldn’t have been bullied so badly, but what you did wasn’t okay and I’m not going to tell you that you did something good because you didn’t. You ruined families, you hurt the community, the country, the world. You hurt your friends. 

Your friends, you know the people who were there for you. You guys felt so alone but you didn’t realize you both had friends and you both had each other. You were so strung high on having friends that you didn’t realize how strong of a bond you both had, that was what was important.

I believe you should have suffered for what you did, I don’t think forever, but you should have had punishment. I hope by now the punishment is over and you’re smiling together playing Doom and watching all of us make fools out of ourselves. 

I hope you’re in your paradise, you have your freedom and you have your peace.

Rest easy.

Need a hand (Zach DempseyX Reader )

Originally posted by oliviagrey3

Request; Hey could you do  a  Zach Dempsey smut where you find him jerking off and offer to help him. Also i really love the Musical fingers imagine.Btw I don’t know if you do 13rw Characters but if you don’t you could just turn it into a reggie mantle one Thanks in advance.

A/N; Let me tell you guys how this is another version of this imagine because the first one I  was doing  my computer shut down in the middle of it so I had to  rewrite the whole thing but  yesss   I do 13rw imagines I love that show and all the characters.In other news I write other things not just smut. I can write fluff romance drama just tell me what you want  sis or bro. Idk ask for a part 2 if yah want i lowkey feel this is short but at the same time long idkk

REQUEST ARE OPEN

Warnings;smut,sin, sin,sin ,more sin, jacking off ,blowjobs  blah, blah, blah

Part two (coming soon depends)

Originally posted by theworldisworthagif

It was a sunny Sunday afternoon one of those day in April when the weather is cooperating. A day meant to go out , the park. shopping , walking  it doesn’t matter as long as you go somewhere to enjoy the weather.Where was I going not anywhere I wished to go. I was walking down the street no not on my way to the park to enjoy this lovely warm weather instead I was stuck studying for a final tomorrow with my study partner Zach Dempsey. Yes you heard right the Zach Dempsey star player of the basketball team.Unlike his teammates he was actually I laid back guy.He knew what mattered.He was pretty smart for a sports guy, He worried about his grades as much as he worried about sports.He wanted to be a biologist or something like that. He told me on one of our study session, I honestly can’t remember correctly maybe I was too busy drooling over the hottie, maybe that’s the problem I’m too  distracted by him. I mean the guy is fit from head to toe, I guess sports really do pay off. Oh if he knew the dreams I have about him and how I fantasize over his lips being on  mine. Zach and I have weird friendship  we are always flirting with each other and making sexual innuendos but we have never made contact that wasn’t just the friend type even though I wished we had. I was early to our study date I was sure Zach wouldn’t mind my parents went out and I didn’t want to be home alone. Zach has texted me earlier to just walk in when I got there. Zach parents were out of town and they took  his little sister with them so it was just going to be me and Zach.I reached the long driveway of the Dempsey home and decided to let myself in.Walking up the driveway I remember all the time Zach has come to open the door for me.How  he’s always wearing a shirt that hugs his bodily perfectly showing off all his muscles and how his sweatpants always hang low on his hips. He looks mesmerizing each time. I reach the door opening it slowly trying to  remember the way to Zach’s room. I’ve been in this house couple of time but the house is a mansion figuring out your way through it is like trying to get out of a maze each time.Making my way up the endless stairs I start to remember the way to his room. When I reach the top of the stairs I hear a something that sounds exactly like a moan. Immediately  I regret my decision of showing up early. What if Zach had someone over? I wouldn’t want to interrupt anything.My mind told me to get out of there but my feet wouldn’t listen they had a mind of their own and I slowly walk towards the door Zach moans got louder and I gotta admit they sounded enticing.Tempted to see what was happening inside I decided to look through the breach of the door. The view was captivating and alluring, Zach was pleasing himself his muscles clenching his hair was damped  and little droplets of sweat decorated his forehead and his eyebrows were furrowed.His hand moving up and down his exquisite cock and in that moment I desired that my mouth was his hand. As a gasp left his mouth I couldn’t hold it any longer my heart palpitated and I felt my body heat up the place in between my legs throbbing for attention.A sudden wave of confidence flowed through me as I stepped into the room speaking up.

“ Need a hand “ I say confidently

Zach is shocked he pulls his pants up in one swift movement turning the chair to face the opposite way that i’m standing.

“ wha… what did you say ?” he says stuttering

I start walking towards him “I asked if you needed help with that” I said standing in front of him. I sit on  his lap and slowly kiss his jawline

Originally posted by relacion-goals

“ like I said I could help but only if you want” I swing my legs to straddle him and get close to his ear I start nibbling on it slightly “Let’s be honest Dempsey you want this as much as I do so what are you waiting for” I say and I start kissing his jawline again.He grabs my hips firmly making me me grind on his bulge. I let out a gasp from the sudden contact. we craved each other. I look up at him his eyes darker full of lust the intensity between us growing. He harshly pulls my face to his crashing our lips together  and a surge of electricity runs through me.The kiss was passionate and lustful at the same time. Like we had been waiting for this forever and like it will last for eternity. I pull away short of breath and see Zach smirking.

“You have no idea how long I’ve been wanting to do that for” he says panting.I get on my knees making eye contact with him eager to have his luscious cock in my mouth my core burning with desire at every touch.I glidle my hand across his bulge and he hisses. I massage it slowly through his boxers. The anticipation of having him in my mouth is killing me but I also want to tease him. I slowly pull down his sweats and he kicks them off he’s only in boxers now giving me a better view.I take off his boxers looking up at him and batting my lashes I take him in my hands and he bucks his hips upward putting more of himself in my hand I pump him a few times before putting his savory tip in my mouth  a suck the tip slowly and he lets out a throaty moan. I take him in my mouth as much as I can slowly bobbing my head up and down  he starts thrusting his cock in my mouth making me moan which sends vibrations onto him.He forcefully pulls my hair into a pony tails guiding me. He hits the back of my throat and I gag. I can hear him cursing under his breath and I know he’s close. The view is consuming , he’s furrowing his eyebrows his mouth slightly open letting string of curse words fall from it once in awhile I moan at the thought of having him come undone inside my mouth. I feel him twitch so I moan again. I feel his milky liquid in my mouth and  I greedily savor his taste, his delicious cock still throbbing in my mouth.He lets go of my hair I wipe the corners of my mouth and get up.I sit on his lap again pulling his lips to mine kissing him passionately.

“Damn Y/N I didn’t know you were such a freak”

he says still short if breath

“Actually there a lot of things you don’t know about me Dempsey” I say smirking.I get up from the chair and start walking towards the door but Zach grabs me and throws me on the bed pinning me down.

“now its my turn to make you feel good” he says kissing my neck

Originally posted by sensuous

anonymous asked:

Just imagine jeep sex w shawn like 😩

MASTERLIST

Look what you made me do…

You were singing along loudly to the radio, swaying your head and looking out the window on the street passing you by. You had graciously been allowed to drive Shawn’s jeep to the airport to pick him up, but the moment the two of you had gotten anywhere near the car, Shawn’s love for his precious jeep took over and once again you were banned to the passenger seat.

You didn’t mind much, to be fair. The only advantage Shawn had by always being the one driving, was that he got to pick the music, but you could live that.

At least this time, he wasn’t blasting his out voice out of the stereo just to annoy you. This time Ed Sheeran’s voice consumed the car.

You tilted your head to the left, catching Shawn’s gaze sticking at you. He smiled widely when he caught your gaze as well.

“Eyes on the road, Mendes!” You hissed at him, but it just made him laugh.

That little crocket smile, you loved so deeply, painted itself on his lips and he was giving you a teasing glance. Aww, your little baby was a bit needy. You grabbed around his chin with your thumb, pushing his face towards the road.

“I said, eyes on the road” You spoke once again, raising your eyebrow at him. Shawn leaned a little further towards you, licking his soft lips slowly.

“I like this view better” he rasped. His voice sounded sore, but the darkness made it even sexier than usually.

“I’m serious… You can drive and snapchat and risk your life on your own, but when I’m in the car? Hell no! Eyes on the road, Mendes” You teased him, letting your thumb caress his chin as you once again pushed his head to the side, forcing him to look out on the road ahead of you.

You watched as Shawn’s smug grew, but he decided to keep his eyes on the road this time. Playfully though, his mouth grabbed your thumb and he bit you harshly.

“Hey!” whined at him, but you only made it worse.

A massive smirk appeared on Shawn’s face and you were certain his eyes were shining.

“Trust me, babe. I can do a lot more than just biting you” Shawn rasped.

He shortly let his eyes fall on you, but then he looked back at the road. You felt the heat rush to your face as you twisted in the leather seat by his words.

“Like what?” you dared him, feeling your cheeks blush massively.

Why did this even make you shy? It wasn’t like Shawn had never talked dirty to you before. Actually, late night calls with Shawn usually consisted of dirty talk.

Shawn turned left on the road and continued driving back home, but he couldn’t help but let out a heavy breath.

“Oh darling, I’ve been gone for so long this time, you can’t even imagine what I’m going to do to you”

“Tell me” you whispered with the heat rushing around your body, leaving your skin tickly.

“Just as eager as me, huh?” Shawn laughed, once again looking at you shortly.

“Aww, and you’re blushing as well” he teased you. You rolled your eyes at him, pushing his face back towards the road.

“Someone needs to teach you how to drive properly” you mocked back.

“Have we ever been in an accident or even close to it?”

“Well no…”

“Then stop complaining about my driving” He yelled.

He wasn’t mad, he was just joking with you. You leaned across your seat and closer to Shawn, almost letting your lips brush against his ear gently, taking a deep breath.

“I’m just keeping you safe, baby. That’s all” you whispered playfully.

You felt every fibre in Shawn’s body tighten and his muscles sudden tense feeling. Oh yeah, you were driving him crazy right now. Shawn’s grip around the steering wheel strengthen and his hands were rubbing it harshly.

“I wish you’d rub me like that” You whispered into his ear once again. You were messing with his mind and you fucking loved it.

You watched as the chills spread across Shawn’s body and how his mouth was suddenly gaping wiped open as he forced in air. Shawn swallowed heavily, letting his gaze catch you from the corner of his eyes.

You bit your lip the moment he turned to look at you, before licking them slowly. Shawn’s eyes were wide open and had a darken tone to them.

“It’s not fair. Stop it” he whispered back at you.

“Stop what?” you asked, innocently.

Quickly, Shawn leaned in and placed a damp kiss on your lips, before pulled back and was focusing on the road again.

“You know what, the teasing”

“Shawn-“ you said defensively, covering your mouth with you hand. “I would never”

“Liar” he laughed back at you.

“We’re home soon” you said, but it was more like a promise.

You let your hand disappear into Shawn’s hair, rubbing his head gently. Suddenly, Shawn made a harsh turn. A turn he wasn’t supposed to take, if he wanted to end up at home.

“Well, soon isn’t fast enough” he breathed heavily.

“What are you doing?” you laughed, looking at him confused.

Shawn made another turn and suddenly he pulled the car up in a empty parking lot near a small supermarket. Before you could react, Shawn had grabbed roughly around your neck and pulled you into his welcoming lips.

His move forced all the air out of your lungs. His tongue spread your lips and slit into your mouth. Only half a second later, you tasted that mix of mint and sweet mango only Shawn tasted like.

Shawn unbuckled your seatbelt quickly, before pulling you across the car and over to sit on his lap. You immediately felt the big bugle between Shawn’s legs, pressing hardly against you.

Shawn grabbed your ass roughly, almost making you moan against his wet lips. You pulled out of the kiss, staring surprisingly at him.

“Shawn, here? We might get caught” you gasped, completely out of breath.

“I swear to you, I don’t fucking care. I’m so hard for you, right now” Shawn’s voice sounded so desperate in this moment.

You let your eyes stick at him for a bit. The heat had rushed to his face, making his cheeks red and his entire face damp. His lips were trembling and he was… well, very hard.

Shawn needed this; right here, right now, in the car. Your mother always told you that those teenage years was made for living a little dangerously, so you figured that maybe she was right.

Shawn looked at you, wanting impatiently for a reaction, actually more like begging for one. It was like his eyes screamed please touch me.

You licked your lip, unbuckling his seatbelt as well. A broad smug spread on his face, but you just rolled your eyes at him. When you thought about it, Shawn had mentioned car sex several times before.

Only seconds after, Shawn’s hands were now greedily placed on your body again, exploring all the places he’d missed for so long. You rubbed yourself against Shawn, feeling his length grow even bigger and even harder through his black jeans.

Shawn’s hand grab around your ponytail, pulling it back roughly so his tongue was able to lick along your bare neck.

You struggled to unbutton his pants for a bit, but to your defence, Shawn’s hands caressing all the right places on your body, made it very hard to function properly. You finally managed to undo them and pulled down his pants a little. It was impossible to take his clothes off in the car, so it would have to do.

Shawn pushed up your dress and gripped around the hem of your panties. Slowly, his fingers ran down your thighs, leaving goose bumps all over your skin. When the panties made it down to your ankles, Shawn grabbed around your hips, helping you to push yourself down his massive length.

You had to support your balance by placing a hand on the roof of the jeep, while feeling Shawn glide even further into you.

Whenever Shawn and you hadn’t had sex in a while, he always seemed much thicker than you really remembered him.

You pushed Shawn further down his car seat as you started riding him roughly. Quiet moans escaped Shawn’s trembling lips and he threw his head back in pure please.

“Fuck” he breathed, once again grabbing around your hips.

His big and strong hands pushed you to move even faster and even harder down against him. Biting your lip, you were able to strangle the otherwise loud whimpers that would have slipped out of your mouth.

You back felt a pain from the steering wheel brushing against your skin, but the pleasure from feeling Shawn so deep inside you covered it up.

Shawn’s thumb ran across your quivering lips and you grabbed for it and started sucking it hard. Your gaze caught Shawn and you couldn’t help but let out a small smile. The pleasure was rushing in over him, leaving him completely consumed by your bodies greedily meeting each other’s.

His dark, curly hair had become all sweaty and sticky and he was struggling to regain control over his breath. His big hands ran down your back, before his nails were digging into your bare thighs, leaving red marks afterwards.

Your mouth found his damp neck and your tongue left a trail from the skin on his neck, to his soft lips. Shawn pushed his lower body up to meet your thrust, which made you bite his lip harshly from the bliss consuming you.

“Holy fuck” Shawn moaned against your skin.

You couldn’t get any words out of your lips, but your screaming certainly assured him you felt the same way. Shawn’s thumb pushed up your chin so he could look at you.

“Kiss me while I cum” he begged, sending you a tiny smile.

Your hands disappeared into his sticky hair and you closed the gap between your craving lips. You rode Shawn harder and he pushed himself up to meet your welcoming and wet body and he thrusted himself further into you, than he had ever been before.

You both reached your breaking point and it collided in a massive scream from the both of you as Shawn exploded inside of you.

Still sitting on Shawn’s lap, you collapsed into his chest. Shawn’s heart was pounding and his chest was burning warm. He lovingly kissed the top of your head, as you rested it against his collarbone. Shawn’s hands wrapped around you and he hugged you tightly.

You were both trying to regain some sort of strength, but this sex had been too good to recover from in the matter of seconds.

“We so need to have car sex more often” Shawn laughed, once again kissing the top of your hair.

You looked up and met his wide childish smile, rolling your eyes at him. He leaned down and kissed your nose tip gently.

“Yeah, we definitely do” you laughed back, cuddling yourself further into Shawn’s chest.

“Another reason to just love this jeep” he said, smiling widely. 

I Think I’m Yours

Request: “Eye colour Soulmate AU (where people are born with heterochromatic eyes, and they only revert to their genetically inherited colour when they interact with their soulmate.)”

Pairing: Newt Scamander x Reader

Word Count: 1028

Warnings: None

Originally posted by crazy-vibes-under-the-moon


Newt sifted through his writing, letting out a long, tired sigh as he looked for a certain paragraph that he had forgotten to edit. His eyes, one blue and one green, flitted across the pages lazily, only half-heartedly putting effort into the search.  

“Newt!” A voice called. “Order for Newt!”

He jumped to his feet, running a hand over his face in an attempt to push away the creeping tiredness. Editing his manuscript was such a monotonous job that even now, in the early hours of the afternoon, he longed for his bed. He came before the little lady who held out the paper bag containing his lunch and a cup of coffee. She looked up to him, doing a double take as she spotted his eyes. Then she cast a sorry gaze upon him, a sad smile tugging at her lips. Newt took the meal, ashamedly hanging his head lower as he walked back to his table. Not many people noticed, but once up close many could tell the slight significance in the hue of his eyes.

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DANCE FOR US ll one

After being caught by the dangerous mafia, your stripping past might help you out (request)

EXO x reader: MAFIA/GANG AU

genre: smut

word count: 3.4k

song: Jeremih - I did

Dance for us: one l two

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BTS Reaction to Their Bestfriend Accidently Confessing to Them; Jungkook Version

Originally posted by officialwookkibby

Word Count: 1,179

“Y/N! C'mon, hurry up! You move like an old lady!” Jungkook whined as you slowly got out of your car, checking and making sure that you had everything that you needed.

“Jungkook, the fair isn’t going anywhere.” you teased like a mother would to her child. Jungkook held open your door impatiently, hopping slightly from excitement. When your butt was finally out of the car, Jungkook slammed the door shut, grabbed your hand, and dragged you off to the entrance of the fair with a large smile on his face.

“I know, but I wanna go and spend as much time with you as possible!” he said, happily skipping into the fairgrounds with you trying to keep up from behind.

You chuckled and shook your head, gazing at his backside with a certain longing in your eyes. You and Jungkook had met that same year at university, in your intro to psychology class. You sat in the back of the lecture hall, since you arrived late and didn’t want to be scolded by your professor for tardiness on the first day. Jungkook sat four seats down to your left, obviously, he hadn’t woken up to his alarm either.

Your relationship went from shy smiles, to throwing notes over the empty seats, to him sitting next to you with your knees brushing and up to your best friend status that you proudly held today. However, you couldn’t deny the attraction you had for your adorable, yet cocky best friend and oh how you wish you could just tell him how you felt. For now, though, you were happy being one of his closest friends; supporting him through his studies and his dream of becoming a singer.

You took in the smells of the fair; powdered sugar, fry oil, and something buttery and fattening that made your mouth water. Jungkook’s eyes shined with excitement as he led you to a funnel cake booth, buying you both one to share as you wandered into the petting zoo area, sneaking the baby animals bits of your fried, sugary goodness.

“Hey look, I found your dapple gangers.” you teased when you ran over to the hordes of bunnies. Jungkook just stuck his tongue out at you, but cooed none the less when one of the rabbits crawled into his lap. As you were petting the bunnies, Jungkook gently grabbed your hand, locking your fingers together with his. You looked up at him and saw that he had a slight blush on his cheeks and another bunny perched on his shoulder, making you giggle at his cuteness.

“You alright Kookie? You’re looking flushed.” you asked, running your free hand over his forehead and pushing some of his hair back. Jungkook just smiled and squeezed your combined hands.

“Never better Y/N. Let’s go on some rides, yeah?” he suggested, gently placing down the balls of fluff and leading you out of the petting zoo; walking with you to the rides. He never let go of your hand, and you inwardly smiled to yourself. Sure, Jungkook was always close to you like this, but the small victories always counted.

He took you on some fast-paced rides first: the little fast kiddie coasters, spinning teacups, bumper cars (which you totally beat him in, even though Jungkook wouldn’t admit it aloud) and one of those drop-down rides that always made your stomach do flips. After begging him to allow you to sit and rest, he placed you on a bench by the game booths and you watched him play from afar.
He won game after game, and slowly the bench you sat at was covered with fluffy stuffed animals and a new fish friend that you both named Marius.

“Jungkook, there is one thing I’d like to do before we leave.” you told him as you shared a serving of blue cotton candy. Jungkook’s lips were tinted lightly with the dyed sugar, and you were sure that your lips mirrored his. In a large bag over his back held all the toys he won, and you insisted that you’d carry Marius safely in your hands.

“Yeah? Anything you want Y/N, we can do!” he said happily.

“Can we go on the Ferris wheel? The sun is setting, and I bet the view is amazing from up there.” you said dreamily. The corners of Jungkook’s lips pulled up in a smirk and he nodded.

“Of course, anything for my best friend.” he said, nudging your side playfully. You could feel your heart slow and the smile on your lips fall an inch.

“Yeah, best friend.” you mumbled quietly to yourself as you followed Jungkook to the Ferris wheel. You both secured your winnings in one of those large storage containers and hopped on the ride. Jungkook sat next to you and he poked your cheek when the ride started to move. You went around once, twice, and then the cart stopped at the top on the third spin.

“Wow, it’s beautiful.” Jungkook mumbled, staring at the pinkish orange hue of the dusk sky. You nodded.

‘It is, but it’s not as beautiful as you.’ you thought.

“You think I’m beautiful, Y/N?” Jungkook asked. You turned to look at him with confusion in your eyes. Did he just read your mind? The stupid smirk on his face made your cheeks feel hot with blush.

“Did I just say that out loud?” you asked sheepishly, looking down at your shoes.

“You did, you did. Is there something you’d like to tell me Y/N? Do you like me?” Jungkook teased.

“Not funny Kookie, don’t tease.” you said softly, taking a deep breath before looking up at him again. His lips were still blue, the mischievous glint in his eyes made him look younger, and you couldn’t help but fall even more in love with the cute, yet handsome man sitting next to you.

“I do…like you. And I hope that this won’t ruin our friendship. Because before anything you were my friend first and I hope that we-”

Jungkook cut you off with his lips gently pressing against yours. You could taste the remnants of sugar on his lips and you melted at the feel of how soft they were. You brought your hands up around his neck, pulling him in closer as his hands moved to cup your face, his thumbs stroking the soft apples of your cheeks. The kiss was slow, both of your lips just brushing together in between soft breaths, testing the boundaries and just feeling, tasting, and loving. Jungkook pulled away first, resting his forehead against your own as you both caught your breath, both your cheeks flushed in red.

“I’ve wanted to do that for a while now. Does that answer your question Y/N?” he asked softly, a small smiling tugging on the corners of his lips. You nodded and laughed airily.

“Kookie, you look so cute when you blush.” you admitted, and Jungkook grinned, leaning in to peck your lips gently as the Ferris wheel started to descend.

“And your blush is absolutely stunning…my jagiya.”

anonymous asked:

I just came across one of your posts on love where you mention pride and prejudice in the tags- do you have any more explicit thoughts on what makes it good as a love story? I love p&p and I'd love to hear what you think if you have time!

I don’t have time at all but I can’t resist an invitation to talk about Pride & Prejudice.

P&P has tropes & plot structures that have occured plenty of times in romance before and since–the “misogynist with a heart of gold” that is Fitzwilliam Darcy, the general woman-rejects-man-then-later-accepts-him arc–but I think that it succeeds where a lot of other things with similar narrative structures fail.

the thing about this setup is that provides ample opportunity to showcase love as a transformative force. and fiction with this setup succeeds or fails, imo, on the strength of its success or its failure to do that. a lot of things written in this vein, including modernized or AU-style adaptations of P&P or things that were probably heavily inspired by P&P, fail because there’s no character growth and no transformation. the woman realises that she was silly to reject the man for her silly reasons (which were actually probably very sound) but doesn’t really change in any material way–the man is there to graciously accept her change of heart, but doesn’t change in any material way either. this, incidentally, is why I can’t get behind North & South in the way that I can Pride & Prejudice.

the appeal of Pride & Prejudice for me–and, presumably, the appeal of P&P to a lot of women who are into men, lmao–is that Darcy actually changes throughout the course of the book due to Elizabeth’s influence. we see this, of course, during the scene at Pemberley with the Gardiners, when he behaves w/ actual civility (in ways that are probably familiar to you and don’t need to be dwelled on), and Elizabeth is all,

Why is he so altered? From what can it proceed? It cannot be for me—it cannot be for my sake that his manners are thus softened. My reproofs at Hunsford could not work such a change as this. It is impossible that he should still love me.

but. okay. so what. anyone can change their behaviour for another person, anyone can act the way that they think they have to act to get the girl, so what? the real crux of this imo, and what makes it really compelling to me, is that I don’t think he changed for Elizabeth. because of her, yes, by his own admission, but from the time between her rejection and her arrival at Pemberley, I don’t think he ever thought that he was going to see her again. or at any rate I don’t think he planned to reform (or appear to reform) for the sole purpose of getting her to say yes to him. after she rejected him, he spent a lot of time, on his own, thinking about what she had said and looking back over his own behaviour:

The recollection of what I then said, of my conduct, my manners, my expressions during the whole of it, is now, and has been many months, inexpressibly painful to me. Your reproof, so well applied, I shall never forget: ‘had you behaved in a more gentlemanlike manner.’ Those were your words. You know not, you can scarcely conceive, how they have tortured me;—though it was some time, I confess, before I was reasonable enough to allow their justice.

so he realises, over a long stretch of time, that he was disrespecting Elizabeth, failing to pay attention to her actual feelings (during the proposal scene and before), and expecting his status to be sufficient in securing her acceptance. he realises this by reflecting on himself, at his own impetus, at some distance from Elizabeth, not expecting her to guide him through the process of becoming a better person, not expecting her to automatically love him at the end of this process. he examines himself, not because he’s being guided every step of the way by a Selfless Female Figure, and not because he expects reward, but because it’s the right thing to do. and I think that his behaviour and mindset would have changed even if he never saw Elizabeth again, even if she had said no to him again when he proposed for the second time. (which was a greatly improved proposal, btw–“one word from you will silence me on this subject for ever”? a vast improvement over launching into a proposal without noting the “cold civility” of Elizabeth’s manner. “you are too generous to trifle with me”? a far superior knowledge of her character to thinking that her refuseal was solely due to her “pride [being] hurt by my honest confession of the scruples that had long prevented my forming any serious design”.)

I can’t resist quoting this entire speech as an illustration of my point:

Painful recollections will intrude which cannot, which ought not, to be repelled. I have been a selfish being all my life, in practice, though not in principle. As a child I was taught what was right, but I was not taught to correct my temper. I was given good principles, but left to follow them in pride and conceit. Unfortunately an only son (for many years an only child), I was spoilt by my parents, who, though good themselves (my father, particularly, all that was benevolent and amiable), allowed, encouraged, almost taught me to be selfish and overbearing; to care for none beyond my own family circle; to think meanly of all the rest of the world; to wish at least to think meanly of their sense and worth compared with my own. Such I was, from eight to eight and twenty; and such I might still have been but for you, dearest, loveliest Elizabeth! What do I not owe you! You taught me a lesson, hard indeed at first, but most advantageous. By you, I was properly humbled. I came to you without a doubt of my reception. You showed me how insufficient were all my pretensions to please a woman worthy of being pleased. (emphasis mine)

my only quibble with this is that I would have wished this apology to occur before Elizabeth’s acceptance, but oh well.

of course, Elizabeth changes as a result of all of this too, and that’s part of the point of the book (Darcy’s is the Pride, but hers is the Prejudice). after she realises that she was wrong about Wickham:

She grew absolutely ashamed of herself. Of neither Darcy nor Wickham could she think without feeling she had been blind, partial, prejudiced, absurd.

“How despicably I have acted!” she cried; “I, who have prided myself on my discernment! I, who have valued myself on my abilities! who have often disdained the generous candour of my sister, and gratified my vanity in useless or blameable mistrust! How humiliating is this discovery! Yet, how just a humiliation! Had I been in love, I could not have been more wretchedly blind! But vanity, not love, has been my folly. Pleased with the preference of one, and offended by the neglect of the other, on the very beginning of our acquaintance, I have courted prepossession and ignorance, and driven reason away, where either were concerned. Till this moment I never knew myself.”

similarly, she attends to her shortcomings without outside guidance, and she doesn’t change for anyone in particular. this is important to talk about when discussing how P&P showcases the possibility of transformation, and the transformative power of love. of course, she doesn’t love Darcy at this point, and I’d argue that Darcy didn’t love her at the time of his first proposal either (he was perhaps passionate or infatuated, but real love involves respect for someone and a knowledge of them, and Darcy had neither). what’s really compelling about this for me, what really makes me care, god help me, about this straight white British couple, is that they don’t just go on loving each other w/o changing, they don’t even change because of their love for each other, but they arrive at loving each other through the ways in which they change because of their experiences with each other. and I think that this novel gets at, in a way that a lot of fiction based in the same general premise fails to get at, the concept of love as action, love as respect and mutuality, love as process, and love as transformation.

You Don’t Know Me

Request: I can’t really think about an actual story plot but maybe yoongi getting you pregnant and he chickens out… Aw This is such a bad description but since you’re an amazing writer ypu can pull it off better ☺💖 thank you!

Originally posted by nvmyg

Pairing: Yoongi + Reader

Genre: Angst

Word Count: 1.841

Warnings: swearing

A/N: you’re so sweet omg and of course it’s a good description! I hope I made it similar to the way you wanted it to be


Kneeling on the cold bathroom floor, your bare legs had goosebumps spread all over your skin, acknowledging the icy tiles. Hair hold back by one of your hands while the other one stabilized your weak body, your forehead collapsed against the toilet stool. Hasty breaths left your slightly open mouth while cold sweat pearled down your face and back. 

What is happening to me?

You took a deep breath before sitting up straight enough to not feel like an old grandmother having back problems. Grabbing some pieces of toilet paper, you wiped over your mouth before throwing it into the toilet and flushing it down to God knows where. 

Closing the toilet seat, you slowly stood up, turning your body towards the sink, opening the faucet. For a few seconds you let the water run so it could turn completely cold before holding both of your hands underneath it, splashing the icy water into your face. Reflexively, your lungs screamed for air as the cold water hit your face but you just ignored it.

It’s just cold water, calm down.

Grabbing your toothbrush, you brushed your teeth quickly, examining yourself in the mirror in front of you above the sink. Your eyes were encircled by dark bags, skin white as the snow that had already melted away weeks ago. Your hair had lost its healthy shine and just hung there loosely, like overcooked spaghetti noodles.  

Sighing deeply, you finished up your cleaning up and walked back into your bedroom, grabbing for your phone. You had to check the calendar before making any overly fast assumptions about your symptoms.

Opening the calendar app, you scrolled back to the last month.

Date of last period: February 16th

Current date: April 17th

Two months since your last period. Two months since mother nature forgot to visit you and make your life horrible. Oh how you wished, Satan had nested in your uterus in those last two months instead of sitting there in that exact moment, wondering how the hell you got into this situation.

“Two fucking months….”, you mumbled to yourself. “I need to get a test.”

With those words being said, you grabbed your keys and coat, storming out of your tiny apartment, down the street to the pharmacy. Strangers pushed their bodies into yours while trying to pass you but you didn’t notice. All you could think of was if you were ready to get some answers. You needed to know why you were feeling so miserable since weeks but at the same time you were scared. Scared that your assumptions would be true and you’d have to tell Yoongi. Scared that he’d flip and leave you alone. So many things could happen and you weren’t ready to figure out what else could ruin your life. But you had to. 

Pushing the door open, the smell of disinfectant hit your nose, making you scrunch it in disgust. You never liked the smell of disinfectant. It reminded you of hospitals and that again reminded you of death. Not the nicest connection one could think of. That’s why you tried to stay away from that smell. 

Walking up to the pharmacist who looked like she was about to fall asleep any second, you silently prayed that she wouldn’t ask any further questions like aren’t you a little too young to ask for a pregnancy test? where’s the father? do you know who the father is? you should have been more careful, young lady. You really didn’t need that crap right now.

“Excuse me”, you politely asked the woman. “C-can I have one of those pregnancy tests?”, you signaled at the white sticks behind the lady as she turned around to see where you were pointing at. They were the cheapest ones you could see and the only ones you could afford as a college student.

The pharmacist smiled at you and leaned a little closer to you. “Of course, but I wouldn’t recommend those - they’re usually wrong or don’t work at all.”

Then why are you selling them at all? “Oh.. well I guess it’ll have to do, those are the only ones I can afford right now”, you faked a laugh as she handed you the test and you gave her the money. Her expression was pitiful but not judging. More like a mother feeling sad for a child.

“Is there a bathroom around here? I don’t think I can wait until I’m back home”, you mumbled and the lady showed you the way to go.


After finishing your business, you waited in the cabin for the 10 minutes you were supposed to wait, anxiously biting down on your lip.

What if it’s positive? What am I supposed to do? I can’t take care of a baby yet. I can barely take care of myself!

As the 10 minutes went by, you decided that you couldn’t do it. You couldn’t look down at the result by yourself. You needed someone to do it for you. So you walked out of the bathroom back to the pharmacist, who was looking at you questioningly.

“Would you mind- would you mind, telling me what is says?”, you asked hesitantly. “I can’t bring it over myself to do it.”

She smiled at you and nodded. “Sure, turn it around sweetheart, so I can see the bars.”

You turned the stick to her and bit down on your lip hard. Your heart rate increased and nervous sweat started to spread out all over your body. 

The lady took a look and then she seemed to struggle with a fitting facial expression. “I don’t know if you’re going to be happy about this new or not, but it’s positive”, she decided to smile at you warmly as your stomach dropped.

“Positive?”, you whispered, looking down on it yourself. There it was. A pink cross. Or plus. Or whatever you want to call it. 

“I- it can’t-”, you stuttered as your eyes filled with tears. You didn’t even care to wipe them away at that point.

“Oh no dear, don’t cry”, the pharmacist said. She turned around and grabbed another package, a fancier looking one and discreetly slid it over the table. “Shh don’t tell anyone but here - take this one. These are about 89% of the time right unlike the one you just took. Take it with you and do the test when you’re calmed down, okay?”

You looked up at her and shook your head under tears. “B-but I can’t afford that one.”

The lady smiled at you again and pushed it closer to you. “It’s fine. It’s on the house”, she winked and giggled, making you smile at her thankfully.

“No go, rest and take the test”, you nodded at her words, mouthed a quick ‘thank you’ before rushing back to your apartment. 

Maybe you still had a chance.


“What do you mean ‘you’re pregnant’? We always used protection (Y/N)!”, Yoongi screamed in disbelief, brushing his hands through his hair in frustration. “You can’t be pregnant. It’s impossible.”

You rolled your eyes at him and laughed bitterly. “As long as your not sterile and I’m not infertile, I can always get pregnant Yoongi. Condoms can rip and the pill doesn’t work 100%.”

“Fuck!”, he yelled, throwing his phone against the sofa, making you flinch. You had expected him to react pissed or at least not really happy but you never thought, he’d flip like he did.

“Yoongi…”, you approached him, trying to calm him down, needing him to calm down to be calm yourself and not have a complete breakdown.

“Don’t touch me (Y/N)”, he growled.

“But-”

“No ‘buts’! This ruins everything, you realize that right? Everything I worked for so hard these last couple of years. Everything I ever wanted, all ruined because of this fucking mistake”, his voice was as cold as ice as his eyes stared at you, burning not only your body to pieces but your soul as well.

“Yoongi, yes it’s very inconvenient, you can call it a mistake even. But we’re in this together, we can’t change it. But we can go through this together”, you whispered through tears, trying to approach him again. You needed his support more than ever but all he seemed to do was to push you further away.

“It’s not only this pregnancy that is a mistake. This whole relationship was a mistake. I should have never started dating you, then it would have never gotten this far. I would have stayed focused on my work and only my work, not even having the slightest possibility for this to happen. Now what? The fans don’t even know about you! But all of sudden I have a girlfriend and a baby? They’d force me to marry you because we live in fucking Korea and you don’t just get kids without being married yet. My whole life would be ruined!”, by now he was screaming, fuming, running around the house uncontrollably, grabbing things here and there.

His words hit you worse than any weapon could as the meaning behind it sunk in. He thought you were the mistake. You were ruining everything. Everything that was important to him. He hated you in that moment, you felt it. 

You sunk to the floor, sobs escaping your lips as tears streamed down your face and your lungs were searching for air. Hysterical sobs left your mouth as your hands covered your face and your body curled up into a tiny frame.

“Yoongi please!”, you screamed out, lifting your head for a second, only hearing him going through your wardrobe in your bedroom. “I can’t do this without you! I’m a broke college student, I’m alone here, I don’t have anybody else but you!”

His figure appeared back in the door frame to the living room, a packed bag slung over his shoulder. “You should have thought about that before starting a relationship with me.”

Hastily you stood up as his body walked past you, towards your front door. Your fingers enclosed his arm, pulling on it, so he would stop. When he did and turned around, you saw the hurt and guilt in his eyes for a second before his gaze turned back to ice. You knew he cared. He cared but he was also impulsive and his impulse told him that his career was more important. 

“Yoongi, you don’t want that. You love me. You can’t just leave me like this, you’re more than this awful egoistic asshole”, you brokingly sobbed, still holding onto his arm, eyes begging him to stay.

He shook his head, ripping his arm free from your grip. “I guess you don’t know me that well after all then.”

With that, he pushed you off him, slamming the door shut without giving you one last glance, as you glanced after his figure in disbelief, a deadly pain spreading across your chest and stomach, making you gasp for air as more tears covered your face, leaving physical marks of the pain your were feeling.

drabble 003

Originally posted by djspookjim

this is for all the people who won’t leave me alone about writing josh smut. i’m sick today but this is all i’ve got in me, while i work on the next bit of heartbeat.


You can hear Josh giggling on the other line as soon as you answer you phone, and immediately, you know what to expect. You let out a sigh, rolling over and switching your bedside light on so you can get you bearings; pulling the phone away from your ear, you see that it’s 1:30am.

“Josh, it’s one in the morning,” you grumble.

“Oh, shit, baby, I’m sorry,” he responds, dragging his words out. “I didn’t know it was that early. Or late. Or…” He trails off, immediately beginning to laugh; you hear another laugh in the background that you recognize to belong to Brendon.

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anonymous asked:

Imagine shawn teasing you under the table when you're with friends or lol ur parents HAHAHHAHA

MASTERLIST

Look what you made me do…. 

Word count: 1,604

Tease (smutty smutty action)

“This is really good, Karen” you said, putting another bite into your mouth.

Karen had always made the best rice in the world. You knew Shawn would rather have had you all to yourself tonight, but you actually really wanted to have dinner with his parents.

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Have You Seen This Painting of A Hallway?

I got this package in the mail from my dad: brown paper wrapping, large but flat, with the word “FRAGILE” written on it in black ink. When I unwrapped it, it was this big, acrylic painting, framed in some sort of bronze-gilded plaster.

The painting itself was of this long hallway full of doors, kind of like you’d see in a fancy hotel. The walls had edging about halfway up, the upper part was painted sort of an off white while the lower half was a crimson red that blended into the carpeting. Between each door was an up-turned light, as well as on the far wall at the end, where the corridor seemed to connect to another hallway running perpendicular to it, disappearing around a corner.

It was really amazing detail, though I wouldn’t call it life-like by any means. Just the sheer amount of intricate pieces to each aspect of the scene showed that the artist really paid attention to every little thing, like somewhere in the world was this hallway, and you could stand in it and hold the painting up in front of you and if it weren’t for the border and the clearly stylized art, you wouldn’t be able to tell where the canvas ended and the real world began.

I called him up and thanked him immediately.

“But where’d you find this?”

“I got it at an auction.”

I kinda figured as much.

So I hung up the painting in my office, just behind my desk, which I realized later wasn’t the best place for it because in order to actually look at it, I had to swivel completely around, but there wasn’t anywhere better really, and once I’d gotten it hung up, I felt less willing to take it back down, so I just left it there. It kind of hung out over my shoulder and watched me work, and every now and then I’d turn around and stare at it and get entranced by it, feeling like I could get up and put my hands in the frame and climb into the painting as if the frame were a window.

Of course, I wouldn’t be writing this if something weird didn’t happen as a result of the painting.

We had a couple friends over, Marc and Sabina, and Marc and I went into my office when the women-folk started talking about knitting, which has become my wife’s new favorite hobby. I went and sat down at my laptop to find a video I had been telling Marc about, and Marc wandered over and started admiring the painting.

“Where’d you get that?”

“My dad bought it at an auction and gave it to me.”

“It’s creepy.”

“It’s not that creepy. It’s kind of… I don’t know.”

“Hypnotic?”

“Yeah.”

I turned around to look at it with him while the video loaded. He got up close and was running his finger over the canvas, feeling the raised acrylic, and I just let my gaze wander over all the details again.

“Huh, I didn’t notice that before.”

“What?”

“At the end of the hall, there’s some sort of light coming from around the corner, and it’s casting a shadow on the floor.”

I got up and looked closer, because I really hadn’t spent a lot of time studying the far end of the hallway. There was definitely some yellow and some darker colors making what looked like the shadow of a person coming from around the corner. I even reached out and touched it to make sure it wasn’t some trick of the light in the study making it just look like there was this shadow in the painting, but I felt the paint and sure enough it was actually there in the painting.

“See what I mean?” Marc said, “Creepy.”

I genuinely felt weirded out by it. It was one of those moments where you start thinking, Why didn’t I notice this earlier? Was it there to notice?

A couple days later, I was working on a project in my study, and it was like 9:30 at night, and I just couldn’t focus, so I spun around in my chair to look at the painting and I felt this sudden vertigo effect, like the ground wasn’t there and I had to grab my chair to keep from tumbling into emptiness.

You wouldn’t have noticed it if you hadn’t looked at the painting a hundred times like I had. The hallway was long, with exactly six doors. I remember, because I counted them the first day. three on the left, three on the right, each with a little shiny, metal doorknob.

Only now there were seven doors. Three on the left, four on the right. It didn’t make sense. Everything looked proportionally exactly the same, and the far end of the corridor was just as far away, and yet there was a fourth door in the right side of the hallway, with its little metal doorknob. I don’t even know which door was the fourth door, that’s how well it blended in, I just know that there were four doors where once there were three.

“What the hell is going on?”

I turned away in my chair and back to check several times and make sure my eyes weren’t playing tricks on me, but the number of doors remained constant.

I called my dad again and I asked him, “Is this a trick painting you sent me?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean it keeps changing. I can see it changing.”

“Not as far I know. It was just one in a bunch I picked up all at the same auction.”

After I got off the phone I took the painting down and checked the back for some some of mechanical or digital hocus pocus, but it was all soft canvas so I left it on the floor behind my office chair with the painting facing the wall because the thought of it was freaking me out.

The next day I pulled my wife into my office and held the painting up so she could see it because she hadn’t had a chance to before.

“How many doors are there?” I asked.

She looked it over for a moment. “Seven.”

“When I first got this, there were six.”

She just looked at me like I was being a goofball. “Okay, so which one wasn’t there before?”

“I have no idea.”

“You don’t know which door magically appeared?” and she laughed and gave me a kiss and went back into the other room.

It gets worse.

The next time I chatted with Marc, I told him about the extra door in the painting.

“Are you sure there weren’t seven doors to begin with?”

“Well, I would swear I counted six.”

“Well, if another one shows up, at least Melissa counted seven, and can confirm it then. You know what you should do? You should take a photo of the painting so you can prove it if anything else changes.”

What a great idea, so I got my phone and took a photo of the painting.

Two days went by. Nothing.

On the third day, I walked into my office and there was a man staring at me. Well, I mean… it wasn’t… I can’t say that it was a man or a woman. Hell, I can’t say that it was human. There was a shape at the end of the hallway in my painting. It was oddly lacking in the detail that the rest of the painting had, like someone had hurriedly painted it on. I even ran my hand over it to make sure it wasn’t fresh, that someone hadn’t actually come in and painted over my painting to drive me crazy.

It was really there.

And the look of it scared me more than anything else, changing painting included. I wish I could do it justice with words, but the best I can describe it is that it was human-ish, with legs and arms, but it seemed squat, or hunched, and lopsided, like someone had slapped a blurry Quasimodo onto an otherwise beautiful painting. You couldn’t see the details of its face, but you could see shading on it, defining really warped features. I was almost glad that there wasn’t more detail to it, except that it left just enough to the imagination to give one nightmares.

But I had proof! Here was proof that the painting was changing. So I brought up the file on my laptop to show my wife for comparison, only when I did, the figure was in the photo I took too!

At no point did I start questioning my sanity about all this. Something unnatural and terrifying was going on, so I took the painting out of the house and set it on the curb where we put our trash for pickup. I was so done with that painting.

Or so I thought.

The next evening, when I got home from work, it was gone from the curb. I figured someone had seen it and taken it home, and I waved my hands and said, “Good, now it’s someone else’s problem.” I went in, played with daughter, had dinner, put them to bed, and after watching a show with my wife, went into my office to check my email.

No, the painting wasn’t back on the wall. I made sure of that the moment I walked in the door.

But I got a message from Marc, asking if the painting had changed anymore, and I told him about the creepy new addition and also how I had gotten rid of the painting.

“Oh man, that sounds cool. I wish I’d gotten a chance to see it.”

“Well, I can send you the photo I took of it.”

“Cool.”

So I opened the image file.

The thing in the painting had raised its arms.

Before, you could only barely make out the arms hanging at its sides, but now both arms were raised up over its head, and its fingers were spread apart like it was waving hello at me. I think it was waving hello at me.

I zoomed in, as best as I could without pixelating the image, and the shaded contours of the face seemed stretched into a grin.

Oh Jesus, Mary and Joseph.

I sent Marc the file, but the connection kept fucking up, so I put it in a folder on my dropbox account and gave him access to it.

“The file’s corrupted.” He texted me.

I tried to open it as well, but he was right. Every time I copied the image file, somehow it got corrupted.

“It must be the spooky magic.” Marc joked.

“This is no joke. I’m freaking out here.”

“Delete the file if it’s scaring you so bad.”

So I deleted the file.

But it gnawed at me, you know? The painting was still changing, in horrible, terrifying ways, seemingly acknowledging my observation of it, and now it was gone. But if it was gone, why should it matter? If something unholy happens, it’s the problem of whoever has the painting now, right? And they’ll see it changing too, won’t they?

“Oh shit.”

It was two days later, and I was organizing a folder of documents and had accidentally deleted a couple I hadn’t meant to. I went into the Windows recycling bin and –you guessed it– there was the image file along with the documents.

I had to look. I was trembling with dread at the thought of it, but when something so surreal happens to you, you have to witness it and see it through to the end.

I recovered the file and opened it.

The walls of the hallway seemed to be melting. The partition separating the red from the off-white was lower than it had been before, and drooped in places. The ridge on the lights looked like they were peeling off. The carpet seemed less crimson and more reddish brown.

And the figure had taken several steps down the corridor toward the viewer’s perspective. More details had become defined: hair hanging off its head, long and black like it had been painted with a fine-tipped brush, the eyes were little more than dull black points under the shading of the brow. The grin came with teeth, uneven and fat, like those of a child more than an adult. Its arms were extended out on either side of it, touching both walls. One foot was ahead of the other, as if I had caught it mid-step in a game of red light/green light.

I realized I was panting and shaking as I looked at it. It was really hard to breathe, an anxiety attack. The painting was going to make me pass out, just from looking at a digital photo of it.

Quickly, I closed the image to calm myself down, but that suddenly brought forth the thought, What if it progresses every time I look away? The only way to stop it is to keep looking! and I opened the file again.

No change. Oh– no, wait, that wasn’t a new change, I had noticed it before, but it hadn’t dawned on me. One of the doors was open. There was a dim blue light coming from the room inside, moonlight I thought. And just outside the threshold of the door, there was an object lying on the floor.

I zoomed in for better detail.

It was a little, yellow, stuffed lion with a scraggly, orange mane. A child’s toy. Of all the details, the melting hallway, the grinning fiend with arms wide open, the blue light from the open doorway, it was the innocent nature of that little toy lion that filled me with the most dread.

My wife came into the office.

“Come kiss Gabby goodnight.”

I went into her darkened room, where she was wrapped up in blankets in her bed, hugging a half dozen stuffed animals and looking cute as could be. My little darling. I love her so much.

I kissed my daughter goodnight. She kissed me back and hugged her little pillowpet with the built in night light. It glowed through a variety of colors.

“I love you, baby.” I told her.

“Can you get my Simba?”

I looked around. “Where’d you leave it?”

“Over there.” She pointed to the closet. The door was open, and her toy lay on the floor just inside.

Simba, her little, yellow, stuffed lion with the scraggly, orange mane.

Seeing it lying there, just past the threshold of the closet door, while the dim glow of my daughter’s night light faded from red to purple to blue, I felt my heart rise up in my chest. The closet was just a closet. I could see it was just a closet. There were clothes on hangers and bags with toys and blocks in them. They were right there. And yet, as I looked at the stuffed lion lying on the floor, waiting for me, I felt as if I could see carpeting on the floor inside the closet, even though there was none. Carpeting, not in my vision, but in my imagination. And maybe if I went in and shut the door, I’d find that the walls beyond those clothes had a wooden partition, red below, off-white above.

And maybe there was something hunched and terrible shambling its way toward us even as I stood there staring at that toy.

I walked, briskly, trying not to look half as frightened as I was, snatched up Simba and shut the closet door. My breathing was heavy, like I’d just run a mile, and I struggled to avoid gasping for breath as I tried to calm myself down.

“Hey, did that poster fall down?” I asked nobody in particular, then pretended I was trying to adjust a cat poster that had been on the floor by her dresser for months, and shoved the heavy dresser over so that it partially blocked the closet door.

“Here’s Simba, sweety.” I handed the lion to Gabby, gave her a quick hug and kiss, and wished her goodnight before rushing back to my office.

The painting had changed, as I knew it would. The open door was closed, the toy gone from the floor, the hallway was dimly lit with yellow light from the melting lights again. But the thing, that not-quite-human fiend, was standing right outside the now shut door, its body turned to face it with both hands pressed up against the door itself like it was running its hands down it, caressing it, and its head turned toward me, still grinning that awful, frightening grin full of gnashed, crooked teeth.

Oh God how close had it been? No, it’s just a closet! The hallway is not there. It’s not real. None of this is real.

I’ve put up signs around the neighborhood, knocked on doors, asked everyone I know and many I don’t if they know who took the painting. I need to find it and get it back. I want to tear it, shred it in my hands, throw it in a fire and watch it burn to ashes. Jesus God in Heaven, I hope it didn’t end up in some landfill.

I’ve learned the awful truth… All Doors Lead To The Hallway

Love Unintentional

Originally posted by ohstylesno

Anonymous asked: Hey, I was thinking maybe you could write about Harry and Y/N being celebrities and having to do a PR stunt. They both hate PR stunts because they are in love with their current girlfriend/boyfriend (which r okay with the PR stunt). Harry and Y/N end up falling for each other.

Word Count: 2973

A/M:  This idea was amazing anon! I might have tweaked it a little bit, but thank you so much for sending it to me! I’m sorry it took forever for me to get this up. There will be a part two. Hope you enjoy! Tell me if you do! :) Xxx

*Other Parts: Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five, Part Six


You insisted on putting the last touches of your makeup yourself, now finishing your look with the right shade of red. 

“What do you think?” You asked turning to your boyfriend as you did a little spin to show off your dress. 

“You look great. Always do.” He said barely looking up. 

You crossed your arms and gave him an annoyed look. 

“What?” He asked half annoyed, “You ask the same thing every time, and ever since you started "going out” with him it’s become routine.“

"Not going to wish me luck?" 

"Luck on what? It’s another date with him isn’t it?”

“It’s a premier. I’m kind of nervous actually. It’s my first one”

“I’m sure you’ll do fine. You’ve gone through this kind of thing before." 

You rolled your eyes, "Whatever. I’ll see you tomorrow.” You said waving him off 

 

It had been the routine for the last 6 months. You had become a rising star within the last two year; a star that came to the level of popularity that your agent had decided that it’d be good for you if you were to have a “fake boyfriend.” But never in your wildest dreams did you think that this fake boyfriend would be Harry Styles.

 

—7 months ago—

“What on earth would he get out of "dating” me?“ 

"Well,” your agent started, “He’s obviously very famous and popular around the world, and you need the publicity. You're this close,” he said giving a hand gesture that showed the small distance he was referring to, “This close to being the next huge thing. If you do this with Harry, it will prolong your career." 

You sighed, "Again, that wasn’t my question. What does Harry get out of it? I’m not that famous. What benefit does he get?”

Your agent frowned, “I thought you liked him. I thought you’d be thrilled to "go out” with him.“

"I am! He’s great, he’s cute. But more importantly he’s a genuine guy. I have met him before. I just want to know why. I don’t want to completely take advantage of him." 

He heaved a deep sigh, "You attract a certain audience and style and it’s something that his agent seems to like as well to broaden his own audience like he will for you.”

You were able to breathe a little easier, now knowing more about this seemingly odd situation. Even if it was something that’s been done since the very beginning of Hollywood and the fame industry. 

 

“Alright. I’ll agree to it if he agrees to it. But you know, we have to talk to [Y/BF/N] about this. I don’t know how he’ll react to something like this.” And you started to feel anxious at the thought. 

“Don’t worry. I’ll talk to him about it.” Your agent said, “Also we’ll have to meet with Harry and his agent to discuss the ground rules. You said you’ve met him before right?”

You nodded, “At a party about 2 months ago." 

"Good. I’ll call you when we’ll be meeting with him. It’s also when we’ll discuss how we’ll bring you two into the public eye.”

“Whoa. Hold on, shouldn’t we wait until he agrees to being my "boyfriend”?“

He gave a look, "Wait I didn’t mention it? He already has." 

"What? Oh. Well alright.”

Everything had be sorted out beforehand, and you and Harry had met to see what you would both agree upon. The terms for the relationship were both simple and basic.

No sex.

No spontaneous PDA 

And no spontaneous trips away. 

Everything had to have been planned and known beforehand. 

 

You didn’t have a doubt in your mind. The rules were too easy. You both were already taken. This was simply work. 

 

The first few times a month after the idea and rules were laid out, you had both made it look easy. But it wasn’t quite the “young love” that people thought it would be.

But your agents and the managing teams had an idea to make the relationship seem more believable. 

So this time the scene was set- a table near a window of a very public restaurant. The lighting was very dim just enough to enhance the candlelight that was at every table, but the focus on you and Harry was very clear. 

The place wasn’t busy… yet; but with the whispers of people nearby, including the staff, you knew that the plan was working and that by the time you were to both walk out,  the paparazzi would be everywhere. 

 

Just as planned. You thought. 

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