the sharp dresser

I’m not ready for winter to be over, I’m only attractive because I’m a relatively sharp dresser. I’m a vision in a pea coat with a scarf and jeans, but put me in a t-shirt and shorts and everyone can see what I actually look like and we we really can’t have that

I’m Your Good Boy (M) // Jung Hoseok

Originally posted by bangtannoonas

Pairing: Hoseok x Reader

Summary: Your boyfriend comes home extremely tense and in desperate need of your help to wind down. 

Genre: nsfw // explicit smut // sub!hoseok // dom!reader // orgasm denial // sex toys - please don’t continue unless you’re okay with these subjects

Words: 2.8K

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Have some Kihyun smut that no one asked for! It’s completely cringe-worthy, and overly cheesy because I was feeling sappy. I hope all of you enjoy this trash scenario until I post the next one!

– Admin Ry

Title: Who’da Thunk It?

Genre: Ahah, I thought this was fluff but it’s actually complete smut

Member: Kihyun

Word Count: 3,717

               The seven of them had been close buddies of yours since high school, but the closest of the bunch was Kihyun. Kihyun had always been a bit of a gentleman. He’d helped you with your studies, and kept you company at night when you needed a friend out in the city or just someone to Netflix or chill with.

               Past graduation, nothing had changed. He’s the same as he was five years ago. Same sharp dresser, same gentleman, same shoulder to cry on. Not that the other guys had grown apart from you; in fact, it was quite the opposite. You couldn’t keep them away. The reason for having Kihyun so close was due to the fact that you felt a rather immediate connection to him. Something that felt so natural in conversation and in company. It was almost comfortable just having him around.

               You smile down at your textbook through your thought, and he places the cup in front of you, effectively distracting you from your schoolwork and your thoughts. “Ah, thanks, Kihyun.” You say, putting your pencil down to lift the hot cup, and bring it to your lips.

               “Careful, [Y/N],” Kihyun says, taking his seat across from you before setting himself up, “they just made it, it’s scalding-“ A yelp from you, accompanied by a jolt of shock, causes him to sigh. “-hot…” He says, a bit deadpanned. He shouldn’t have expected anything more from you, but he had. You let out an innocent giggle and you place the coffee down, taking the cover off to let it breathe out.

               “So what are you gonna work on, Kihyun?” You ask, moving the cup aside so you don’t knock it over, and you look over his books. Come to think of it, the only change from high school was the change in your classes. Kihyun was taking different classes than you were, and his studies were much more difficult.

               “I’m going to finish up a report on one of my Chem labs. I’m almost done with it, so I’ll be able to help you when I’m finished. Sound good?” He winks to you with a smile, pulling out his laptop, and opening a spiral-bound lab book. You blink at how smooth it all looked, and a bit flustered, you stutter out a ‘yeah’, and throw yourself back into your textbook to avoid looking him in the eyes again. He chuckles under his breath, and soon enough you hear him typing away on his keyboard, and you find yourself immersed in your Korean textbook once more.

               About twenty minutes pass, and Kihyun’s stopped typing on his laptop, but you’ve barely noticed it. It wasn’t until he’d been packing away his laptop that you realized he was done. “You’re /finished/?” You ask, not bothering to hide your amazement. Your admiration causes a small chuckle to erupt in his chest before he nods, “I told you, I was almost done.” He says, looking down to your own textbook, curious in what you were working on. “What, did you have, like, a sentence to write or something?” You ask facetiously, and roll your eyes, closing your textbook and shoving it to the side.

               “I’m burnt. I can’t study another minute, or I’m not gonna remember anything.” You say, and Kihyun nods in understanding. “Don’t push it. Stress will only make it worse. If you’re done, you wanna head out?” He asks, and you nod in response. Kihyun helps you to gather your belongings, and as you pack everything up, he goes up to the counter to buy the both of you more coffee to go. He catches up to you at the door, and the both of you leave the coffee shop. It’s brisk and cool out, enough for you to see your breath, but not enough to sting your fingers, especially not with a hot cup in your hands. The two of you continue side by side down the walk way of the city.

               “Speaking of stress, how have you been?” He asks after he hands you your new cup of coffee. You sling your bag over your shoulder to keep it out of your way.

               It was obviously asked for the sake of small talk – the two of you saw each other on such a frequent basis that there wasn’t need for such catching up. But he was genuinely concerned for you, and you knew that. Which is why you indulge him all the same.

               You tell him all about what happened the past week of school, about how your English professor wants two essays by next week, and the speech you gave in your communications class. You tell him how much you’re enjoying your Korean class, and how your professor makes learning the language so much fun. You watch him shift a little in his step at that, as if he has something to say to that, but you shrug it off.

               “I’m glad school’s going well for you, [Y/N].” He says with that signature smile of his, and you melt just a little where you stand. “How’s everything outside of school, though?” He asks, not really wanting the conversation to end there. “I mean, I had a date last night.” You mention quickly, and that gets his attention. He stops a moment, falling behind a few steps. “Did you?” He asks, and you can’t tell if the tone in his voice is there to be condescending, or in genuine intrigue. When you look up to him, he’s looking down at the walk way, and he kicks his foot as he catches up in long strides. You nod, “yeah, I did.” You say, matter of factly.

               Kihyun swallows. “So how’d it go?” He asks, keeping up a façade for a reason you can’t find. So you tell him about your date. “He was a nice boy. Not sure I’d make anything serious out of it.” You say, and he lets out a breath of relief. “It’s too early to make such a decision anyway. It’s smart that you’re not going to jump into anything.” He says to you, though he keeps from making eye contact as he finishes off his coffee, and tosses it into a receptacle at the side of the road.

               That was around the time you arrived at your apartment. The both of you walk up the stairs to the flat, and you let the both of you in, before making your way to the elevator, and finding your door. The entire five minutes was completed in silence, and for the first time, it felt awkward to be in his presence. It had been a while since the both of you had talked about relationships. Not since your ex, but that had you crying at his place for two weeks straight. And not that you knew, but that hurt him just as much as it had hurt you.

               “If it’s not good to just ‘jump into something’, then how do you think I’m going to find a new boyfriend, Kihyun?” You ask, not meaning to sound condescending, but it came out that sort of way. He winced, but that could have easily been your imagination. You place your half-finished coffee on the counter top, and remove your jacket, as does Kihyun. He hangs his jacket over the arm of the couch before finding a seat beside it, and he looks at you — he really looks at you.

               His mind swims with every reason he should just confess to you at that minute, but he holds his tongue in favor of good timing. “I’m just saying that you should consider your options more carefully. Don’t make any rash decisions, and all that fun jazz. It’s alright, we’re going to find you a boyfriend.” He says, a bit forced. You nod, understanding what he meant. Blindly jumping into a relationship was what tore you apart last time.

               “The same goes for you, Kihyun. I don’t think for the five years I’ve known you, you’ve ever been in a relationship.” You say, and take a seat on the bar stool by the island connecting the kitchen and the living room that Kihyun currently inhabited. “But don’t worry. We’ll find the perfect boyfriend for you, as well.” You smile at him, and he opens his mouth, obviously to say ‘thank you’, but he stops. As if to double take, he shakes his head, and he looks at you with scrutiny. “Excuse me?”

               His voice came out a little bland, and you gave a wry look before shifting. “You know.. You’ve always helped me though my relationship issues, I think it’s about time I help you with yours.” You say, and he shakes his head, standing up. “No, not that. Something about… Getting me… A boyfriend?” He asks, giving you an almost devilish grin.

               All of this was confusing to you. But.. wasn’t he gay? “Y.. You mean..?” You ask, feeling a flush come over your face. “I-I just thought… You’d never talked about a girl before, and you were always shy on the talk of relationships, especially with the guys, and so I thought… Maybe you weren’t interested in girls?” You say, trying to defend yourself, but it was hard, especially with that look in his eyes, and that smirk on his face. Kihyun shakes his head before letting out a laugh. A nice, nice, genuine laugh.

               “My dear [Y/N]..” He says, closing the space between the two of you by standing before you, leaning down. He cups your cheek, and you tense under his touch. “I’m not gay. No, no, far from it. My love, my attraction… My desire, for you, is proof enough.” He says, letting his words sink in, before your eyes widen. His features soften as he recognizes the understanding in your gaze, and as you open your mouth to speak, his lips seal yours in a kiss.

               Suddenly, all the pieces fit, and everything flashes behind your eyelids. He loves you, and you realize it now; you’ve harbored something form him, too. The sparks of it ignites in your chest the second his lips press to yours. Just as he pulls away from the kiss, you sling your arms around his neck and pull him back in.

               As if someone opened the gate on a dam, Kihyun’s self-control was lost in a wave of adrenaline, and he lifts you from the stool you’re seated in to your feet, with his arm locked around your waist. Your hands search his hair for an anchor, and your fingers lace into his silken locks just as his fingers dig into your side. The passion between the two of you is hot enough to rival the sun, but that would be too cliché. The both of you are lost in each other’s lips, in your tongues, and your arms. His tongue swirls around yours as he draws your tongue into his mouth. He gives so much tender attention to your lips, to your jaw, letting his lips barely brush your skin. You shiver in his hold, and it shoots him up another wave of adrenaline.

               He leads you over to the couch, where he accidentally pushes you over a little too hard, and the both of you lose your balance. He hovers over you, holding himself up, smirking down at you. “Shall I prove to you I love you?” He asks, before his face softens a little more. “Do you love me, as well?” He realizes this could be all one-sided, and he’s filled with a little panic until he feels your hands press to his chest, your fingers gripping his shirt before you pull him down, “Saranghae, Kihyun.” You say to him tenderly, and his eyes widen. He pulls back just a little, just to take you in, the way your hair is whipped about the cushion of the couch, and especially the way you say his name.

               With that, he dives back in for another kiss, his hands snaking up your shirt to stop just under your bra. His fingers plow under the wire, brushing the sensitive skin under your breast, eliciting a delicate gasp from your lips, and a flush to spread across your face. Breaking the kiss once more to admire his handiwork, and he smiles much more gently, and leans back down to press his lips to your jaw. He works his way up to your ear, kissing and nipping along the way, and all the while pushing your bra up to cup your breasts in his hands. The way your breath hitches in his ear sends shivers down his spine, and eggs him to knead your warm flesh just a little firmly. It works a soft moan from you, and at that point, he knew he couldn’t keep your shirt on any longer.

               He sits up to help take off your shirt and to remove your bra, leaving you half naked underneath him. A blush of his own creeps across his face, and he whispers under his breath, ‘yeoppeo’, before correcting himself, “So, so beautiful..” He says, his hands tracing down your form, causing you to squirm just a little under him. Your arms fold across your chest, and he shakes his head, taking your arms by the wrists, and pinning them above your head as he leans over you once more. “No more hiding. I’m done hiding.. Aren’t you?” He asks in an all-too-husky breath, and he nips your ear as he makes his way between your legs, and brings his lips down your body.

               His first stop is your collarbone, where he bites hard enough to form an outline of his teeth, and sucks at the bruise, hard enough to cause a mark. He repeats the process several times, more on your collarbones, and some on your shoulders. But his ministrations become more and more gentle as he makes his way down to your breasts once more. His hands release your wrists in favor of holding your bare sides, keeping you in place as his tongue darts out to stroke over your nipple. You jolt in his hold, and he keeps you down as he closes his lips around the bud, sucking at it. One hand dares to release you, and slides up your body, to cup the other breast.

               “Kihyunnie..” You whine, and rock your hips up unconsciously, moaning out when you make accidental contact with his crotch. His breath hitches, and you can feel the bulge in his pants even from the slightest contact. He adjusts the both of you on the couch, pulling you up by your thighs so that your ass rested comfortably across the tops of his thighs, almost against his crotch. It was only torture for him, but he knew this would be the best position.

               He continues to tease you, biting and sucking at your breast, and alternating between the two while occasionally rocking forward to grind against you. “P-Please, Kihyun, please..” You beg softly, and reach out. Your eyes are unfocused, but they find him anyway, and you pull him up to kiss him. “Let’s do this properly..” You convince him, and he nods.

               Reluctantly, he pulls away from you entirely, but lifts you from the couch and carries you to your bedroom, which he was familiar with before this whole situation. He kicks the door open, and doesn’t bother to close it as he walks you to the bed, laying you on it and climbing on top of you, a recreation of the position he was previously in. You pull at his shirt desperately, and he removes the sweater vest first, then the button up before he’s finally shirtless. You begin on his pants before he stops you. You look up at him confused, and he only leans in to kiss you. “Before we go any further, [Y/N].. I want you to call me Oppa, even if only once.” He says.

               To him, it was a title that was earned if he’d gotten someone’s affections. In this case, which was something that was important to him. You smile at him, and nod, pulling him in for one more kiss. “Of course, Kihyun.. Anything for you, Oppa.” You say, and he smiles. His lips meet yours, this time with overwhelming passion. He kisses you almost uncontrolled, his teeth tugging on your lower lip, and his tongue sweeping over yours. You moan into his mouth, and he eats it up with a smirk as he tries to take more from you. He’s getting drunk off the sound of your moans, and he doesn’t care. His hands work the both of you out of the rest of your clothes, until the both of you are naked and pressed against each other.

               His hands trail down your body, and part your legs to fit himself between them, but he doesn’t make the motion to line himself up with you. His hands at your knees slide up your thighs, until one hand makes it to your wetness. A finger slicks across the slit of your opening, and you gasp, looking at him with a flushed red face. You know you’re wet for him, and now he knows it as well. He chuckles, swiping his finger across your opening once more before pressing it in.

               This time you moan out to him, as he passes the first, the second, finally reaching the third knuckle of his finger, fully sheathed inside you. He pauses just to let you catch your breath. He curls his finger around experimentally, hearing you mewl and watching you writhe before him. He pulls his finger out slightly, only to slide it back in. He continues this at a broken rhythm of pulling out, sliding in, twisting his hand, and curling his finger until he adds a second, then eventually a third finger. He teases you relentlessly, thrusting fast, thrusting slow, scissoring his fingers, and curling them. He massages inside you, trying to find where it’s most sensitive for later.

               “Kihyun-Oppa, c’mon, I think you’ve had enough fun..” You whine, your hips rolling on his hand for the umpteenth time, and he chuckles, moving with you so you barely get the friction you crave. He finally pulls his fingers from you, bringing them to his lips, and licking them clean. “God, what I wouldn’t give to eat you up right now.” He says, lust heavy and evident in both his voice and his eyes, “but I’ll wait on that for another time.” He can’t ignore the throbbing of his own arousal, and he lets out a choked gasp when he takes hold of himself, pressing the tip to your hot entrance.

               “Are you sure you’re ready..? Are you sure you want this..?” He asks, leaning forward, and pressing your foreheads together. You nod, and wrap your arms around his neck. Your hips roll forward, and he moans out, a curse in Korean falls from his mouth, and you smirk at the fact you got him to break his control, even if just a little. “I’m ready, Oppa. I can’t think of anything more that I want than to be with you, than to be one with you..” You press your lips together, and he takes that as the perfect opportunity to slide inside you.

               Thanks to how well he’d prepared you, you were wet enough to take him in entirely. You gasp as you feel him fill you, and he moans as he feels you envelop him. He forces himself to go slow, to take his time pushing in because he knows how it must hurt for you. Complete to the hilt, he keeps his hips flush to yours as he waits for you to adjust, but the way you rock your hips to tell him to continue has his self-control crumbling. He pulls out only to drill back in, again and again, keeping up a ruthless rhythm in passion and desire.

               You cry out, the friction feeling wonderful as he fills you again and again and again. Hearing him rasp and moan out over you has you shivering, and your nails raking down his back. He catches himself in his clouded lust, and slows his thrusts, keeping them languid and meaningful. He takes his time on the pull, and puts a little more force in the push.

               The contrast has you reeling, and you moan his name louder as he begins to pick up pace in that fashion. It doesn’t take long for him to feel close to his end, and he’s worried he will come before you do. His hand leaves your hip (which might have five tiny bruises in the shape of his fingers in the morning) to go between your legs. His finger finds your clit, and he can feel the effect that has on you as you tighten around him. He moans out, his finger working faster on you as he thrusts a bit harder and a bit faster to help work you over your edge. The slightest change in angle has his thrusts hitting a rather sensitive area, one you can’t tell if it’s painful of pleasurable, but the effect is still the same as it has you tumbling over the edge.

               You come around him with a cry of his name, and he follows shortly after, with a moan of his own. He falls to his forearms to catch his breath, and he enjoys the warmth of your body and the joy of the afterglow before pulling out, and lying beside you. You shift to the side, and you curl against him, to which he welcomes you with open arms, holding you to his hot, slightly-sweaty chest. He smiles and kisses your head.

               “You don’t know how long I’ve loved you, [Y/N].. For too long. Too long, I’ve wanted to tell you. I’ve wanted to love you.” He says, stroking your hair. “You’ll let me love you, won’t you?” He asks, craning his neck down to look at you, and you crane yours up to smile at him. “Of course, Kihyun-Oppa. Only if you’ll let me love you back.” He smiles, and bends down to kiss you.                


2PM Bodyguard Jun.K 'Dying Here Just to Be Safe'

@xxsugamonsterxx​ asked: Hello, I’m a new fan and I really adore your work/writing. Can I please have bodyguard Jun.K drabble expansion please? love your blog! ^_^

Anon said: Wow. Your penmanship is admirable. You are one of my(few) favorite writers here. Could I have an expansion to Jun. K version of bodyguard scenario???? Looking forward to it. Thank you.

A/N: Thank you!! You both are too kind. ^^ I am thrilled you like my writing and I hope you enjoy this as well. *hugs you both until it’s awkward*

This is a drabble expansion of a reaction I wrote here.  

You’d just about had it with Kim Minjun. He’d been your head guard for about a year now. He’s always taken his job seriously and never leaves your side while on duty. However lately he’s become almost suffocating in his attempt to keep you safe.

And you didn’t know why. It wasn’t like there had been any close calls to trigger this overprotective streak. Nor was he controlling. He never tried to deter you from going somewhere, just always had to know your plans to ensure adequate protection. Minjun even went so far as to debrief the other guards that covered you when he was off duty. You didn’t understand his behavior, but you were an adult and needed some freaking space.  

Escaping from Minjun’s watchful eye was too difficult but his replacement wasn’t as diligent. Biding your time you waited until he was distracted and slipped away. With the cushion of a few streets distance between you, already you felt the euphoria of getting away with something you shouldn’t be doing. Part of you felt guilty though. The guy was just doing his job and you knew Minjun would tear him a new one when he heard what happened. But it wasn’t like you were running away. You just wanted to see the ocean. By yourself, without people watching. Sometimes people took for granted how lovely solitude could be.

You were starving for it. As well as other things you did your best not to think about, thoughts shying away from the image of a certain man.

The sun was setting and it was getting chillier. It was off season so the beach was empty. Kicking off your socks and shoes you felt the sand between your toes and smiled. Sitting on the sand you watched the waves consume the sun. The wind combed through your hair, whipping it about your face. You were peacefully alone. Strong. Independent. You wouldn’t trade this feeling for anything.

After a few hours you heard someone approaching from behind. There was no need to turn around. You knew who it was, just as he knew how to find you. Silently Minjun crossed his legs and plopped down in the sand beside you. Peeking at him out of the corner of your eye you were startled to see him in relaxed attire. Always a sharp dresser, he usually wore a suit of some sort. Tonight he was in a t-shirt and ripped jeans, topped with a well worn leather jacket. The type that was weathered by age, not bought off the rack that way. A part of your mind registered that he looked really, really good.

Resting your chin on your knees you asked, “So how much trouble am I in?”

“None.” Removing his jacket, he draped it over your shoulders. The residual body heat felt warmer against your skin than it should.   

“How much trouble is your replacement in?”


“That’s not right. I’m the one who messed up, not him.”

He shrugged. “That’s debatable. But not really what I’m concerned with right now. Why’d you ditch him?”

You didn’t know what to say, so you were silent. He waited patiently until you cracked and the only thing you could express was, “I couldn’t breathe. I feel like I’m in a cage.”

“Is it me?” There was an undertone he couldn’t quite hide. You knew him too well to miss it. But it confused you. If it had been anyone else you would have guessed it was fear.

“Yes. No.” With a helpless groan you flung yourself backwards into the sand and stared at the stars above. “I feel like I can’t do anything without you knowing about it. You always have to know what I’m doing or be watching over my shoulder. It’s smothering me.”

Minjun continued to stare out at the sea, elbows resting on his knees, the only thing moving was his hair. The rest of him sat still as stone. In a low voice he responded, so quiet the words were nearly stolen by the wind. “I just…I can’t bear the thought of something happening to you. The idea of it kills me. It’s making me hold on to you tighter and tighter and I can’t stop myself because sometimes I’m so afraid.”

“Afraid? Of what?”

“Losing you.”


“Because I’m in love with you.”  

Well you certainly hadn’t been expecting that. If it was true, he’d hidden it from you well. Of course it was true, you chided yourself. You only had to look, vulnerability radiating from him, as he confessed to the ocean rather than you. You’d never seen this man appear uncertain before.

“I…I have to admit something. Part of the reason why I felt I had to get away, why I didn’t want you watching me so closely is because I couldn’t handle the thought of being so close to you, and you not wanting me.”

Quickly his head swiveled to look at you over his shoulder. For a moment the words hung in the air as both of you felt your perceptions realigning. Slowly Minjun eased himself down to your side. Eyes hopeful yet hesitant he closed the distance between you, alert for any signs of unwillingness.

Lightly his lips settled on yours, like the tide tickling your toes. Head swimming and still unable to believe that this was real, a sound escaped from the back of your throat. Immediately Minjun deepened the kiss, fully coming to rest on his elbows and clutching you to himself. You felt the sand beneath your shoulders shifting as he devoured you, pulling at you like an undertow and you were more than willing to drown.

Once the kiss was over his breathing and voice were ragged as he hovered over you. “I want you. I love you. Please don’t run away from this, from me. I’ll never let anyone hurt you, I promise.”

“Now that I know I can have you, I don’t want to run anymore. But you have to let me breathe on occasion. Please don’t worry so much.”

His only answer was to kiss you again so you knew there’d be more discussion on the topic later. But it was ok, there was time to work it out.    


Malcolm X and Redd Foxx reunited in the early 1960′s.

In the early 1940s before converting to The nation of Islam Malcolm Little then known as “Detroit Red” became close friends with Jon Sanford aka Redd Foxx then known as “Chicago Red”. They both were sharp dressers and resembled each other. Both young men worked at Jimmy’s Chicken Shack in Harlem and hustled the street together. Redd confided to Anthony Major, who ran Redd Foxx Productions in the mid-1980s, that Malcolm was the only person he really trusted. “They used to rob places together and sleep on rooftops together. Redd said he knew Malcolm has his back and trusted him. If Redd was in a fight, he could turn his back and know Malcolm was gonna be in the other side, fighting with him.“

For a while they were partners in crime stealing suits and reselling them, dealing marijuana and other petty crimes. They had a falling out as Malcolm’s criminal activities increased resulting in his 6 year incarceration which led to his rebirth as Malcolm X. 

“Malcolm didn’t have the showbiz talent so he didn’t give a damn what he got into,” Redd said. “He’d take on anything to get some dough. He was a little bit more aggressive, but I’d rather be sleeping with a broad and go somewhere [to a club] and do fifteen minutes of comedy.” (Black and Blue: The Redd Foxx Story)

“We became good buddies in a speakeasy where later on I was a waiter; Chicago Red was the funniest dishwasher on this earth. Now he’s making his living being funny as a nationally known stage and nightclub comedian. I don’t see any reason why old Chicago Red would mind me telling that he is Redd Foxx.“ - Malcolm X (The Autobiography of Malcolm X)

A Good Man

A/N: Day 1 of 25 days of DC Christmas. This was an anon request. Hope you like it! Merry Christmas!

Request:  a Christmas one where barry spends the holiday with reader and meets the parents and hella fluff please.

Word Count: 2,015

The sound of dishes clanging rose me from my slumber on a cold winter morning, as I slowly opened my eyes to find myself in an empty bed. The smell of bacon and eggs wafted through the cracked door and grabbed my attention. My amazing boyfriend, Barry, was in the kitchen making breakfast. I rolled out of bed and slipped out of the bedroom to find him standing in his gray tee and boxers wearing my apron as he poked at the bacon with the spatula.

“Morning, hon,” I smiled and tried to smooth my hair back.

“Morning,” he beamed as he turned towards me with a plate in his hand, “Breakfast is ready.”

I walked over and snaked my arms around him, and buried my head in his chest. Today we were supposed to go to my parents’ for an early Christmas dinner, it was the only time my entire family could get together, but I would have much rather preferred to just stay home, “Do you think I can call and say I’m sick?”

“What? No, we have to go. It’s your family. And it’s Christmas. Plus I want to meet your parents,” he argued. I had been trying to sway him for weeks but he loved everything about this time of year. I personally would rather drink hot cocoa and watch Netflix.

“Fine,” I conceded knowing how hard it was to change Barry’s mind.

“Now smile,” he said before placing a a quick kiss on my cheek and leading me to the table for breakfast.

“Before we go though there are a couple things we should go over… so you’re prepared.”

“What is this a family dinner or a job interview?” he laughed as he shoveled eggs into his mouth.

“I’m serious, my family dinners aren’t like dinners at the West or Allen household. My parents are all about appearances and feel superior to most people,” Barry rolled his eyes, “At least hear me out?” I asked with a small pout.

“Okay,” he smirked as he grabbed my hand, “What do I need to know?”

“Well, my dad is a marine, he has a habit of threatening my previous boyfriends, he also is extremely conservative. Talk sports, football mostly, the Cowboys are his favorite team. Stay far away from the topic of the Philadelphia Eagles. Also if he starts talking about the metahumans change the topic immediately. And my mother is very into appearances, as long as you compliment her on how she styled the house, on her outfit, basically anything superficial you should be good. But if she asks you about working with the CCPD, downplay it. She’s trying to get a meeting with the mayor. My sister is very proper, super intelligent, and holier than thou. If she starts saying some snobbish bull shit just ignore her. My brother isn’t bad, but he normally doesn’t come to family events because my parents and him kind of had a falling out three years ago.”

“Whoa… that’s a lot of information to process.”

“Yeah… I still think it would just be better if we stay home and curl up on the couch,” I ran my foot along his leg trying to tempt him.

“No, we’ve been dating for almost a year, you’ve met Joe and Henry. I should meet your parents.”

“Okay. Oh, you’re going to need to wear a suit.”

The uber driver dropped us off outside of my parents house. I looked up at the familiar white house with the blue door. It almost looked friendly and welcoming from the outside. We started up the small walkway towards the front door. Before ringing the doorbell I messed with Barry’s tie and straightened his collar, “Remember Cowboys, not Eagles. No metahuman talk. Compliments. Not too much about CCPD. And ignore my sister.”

“Got it,” he smiled and winked, then he leaned down and planted a kiss on my cheek before whispering in my ear, “Relax. I’m right here with you.” His fingers intertwined with my own and he gave my hand a quick squeeze before I smoothed out my dress and rang the doorbell.

A few seconds later my father was standing at the door. He stood tall and proud in his uniform, towering over Barry and myself, “Hey, sweet pea,” he smiled and then he saw Barry holding my hand and he shot him a skeptical look, “You must be Gary,” he stuck out his hand.

“Barry, actually,” he smiled and gave him a firm handshake. I noticed my dad squeeze tighter and Barry flinched only slightly, “It’s a pleasure to meet you, sir.” My father released his hand and I saw Barry in the corner of my eye stretching out his fingers. He leaned to me and whispered, “He’s got quite a grip.”

Just then I heard my mother’s squeal as she rounded the corner, “Is that my girl?“ she came closer to me and grabbed my shoulders. Then she tilted her head and started messing with my hair.

“Mother stop,” I pulled her hands from my face and noticed Barry stifling a laugh. 

“I wish you would let me take you to the salon every once in a while.”

“I happen to like my hair,” I argued. Then she glanced down at my red halter a-line dress.

“Why didn’t you wear the dress I bought you?”

“I am wearing the dress you bought me.”

“Oh, it-it looked different on the rack,” she sighed and then turned her attention to Barry.

“You must be Bartholomew,” she smiled and then looked him up and down, “He’s quite the sharp dresser.”

“Please call me Barry, and may I say you look lovely Mrs. Y/L/N,” that charm threw my mother in a fit of giggles as she and my father led us into the house.

We walked into the dining room where we found my sister fussing over the extravagant centerpiece my mother had laid out, “Would you quit messing with that!” my mother snapped causing Casey to pull away and her attention turned to me.

“Oh hello, y/n,” she said coldly.

“Hey, Casey,” I asked in as friendly of a voice as I could muster.

“Is this him?” she asked in a distasteful tone. Casey always thought that a man should be clean-cut, well-raised, and even though she didn’t say it, rich.

“Yes, this is my boyfriend Barry,” I smiled proudly as I grabbed his arm.

“It’s nice to meet you,” he held out his hand but she just stared at it and did not respond, leaving Barry standing there quite awkwardly.

“Well at least someone is able to tolerate you,” she forced a smile as if she had just given high praise. Barry winced slightly and wore a small look of shock, as if what she just said was unwarranted, but he didn’t know Casey. I’d learned to live with it, “You really should stay away from the color red, it’s not doing you any favors,” she smiled and then walked out of the room.

I turned to Barry and played with the lapel of his jacket, “So that’s my sister…”

“Did she really just say that?” his eyes were blown wide with disbelief.

“Oh yeah… I tried to warn you.”

“That was extremely tasteless,” he huffed.

“Well no one ever said Casey was classy,” I smiled and whispered, “She just thinks she is.”

My mother peeked her head in the doorway, “We still have about a half an hour til dinner, how about you join me in the kitchen and Barry can go watch football with your father.”

“Mom, why don’t you get Casey to help you?” I suggested politely.

She waved her hand at me as she grabbed my arm, “Nonsense, Casey has much better things to do. Barry will get along just fine,” she started dragging me with her then turned back to my loving boyfriend, “The family room is just around the corner.”

I turned back to him and mouthed “help me” he just laughed quietly, “you’ll be fine.”

When we walked into the kitchen I discovered that everything was almost finished, my mother didn’t need my help. But she blocked the door way and my only escape, “He’s quite charming isn’t he. And a very smooth dresser. What does he do again?”

“I’ve told you a thousand times, he’s a CSI.”

“A CSI, for the CCPD? Does he know the mayor? I’ve been trying to get a hold of him for weeks. Your father and I would appreciate tickets to the banquet on Christmas Eve,” she began rambling, trying to bargain her way into a position of status.

“Mother, no. You are not berating my boyfriend for tickets to anything!” I snapped, cutting her off.

She dismissed my outburst as she often did, “Fine, fine. You know though you picked a good one. If I were twenty years younger…”

“Mom, I’m begging you, please don’t finish that sentence,” I did not need any more insight into the inter-workings of my mothers twisted thought process.

“All I was going to say is that he’s a keeper. At least you got something right,” she smiled, then she came to me and wrapped me into a large hug, something she rarely did, “I’m proud of you.”

After we finished setting the table my mother and I strutted into the family room to find something I never expected. My dad, and my boyfriend, laughing? It made absolutely no sense. My father had never once approved of one of my boyfriends. I would have tried to guess what was different, but I knew Barry. He had a way of connecting with people. 

“And here are the lovely ladies,” my dad smiled larger than life.

“Dinner’s ready,” my mother’s voice sang.

My mother led the way out of the room and Barry followed quickly after My dad wrapped his arm around me, “I like him. He’s a good man.”

“Yes he is,” I smiled surprised at how Barry had managed to win over my father. 

We sat down to a gorgeous dinner, I leaned over to Barry and whispered, “What did you do to my dad?”

He just smiled to himself and grabbed my hand under the table, giving it a light squeeze, and I felt myself fill with a warmth I recognized as utter blissful happiness. 

By the end of dinner Barry had effectively won over every one of my family members, he had easily swayed my parents. My sister was more of a challenge, one he managed to conquer by discussing his relationships with Harrison Wells, Martin Stein, and Christina McGee, making my sister effectively jealous. She was baffled by Barry’s intellect. Even more so by my relationship with such a man. 

The only thing missing from the evening was my brother. I would never bring up Kyle at a family dinner, it would only cause a nuclear disaster and possibly the start of World War 3 but I could help but feel an emptiness as his chair was left empty at the end of the table.

After dinner and dessert we said our goodbyes and waited out front for our ride to arrive. Barry wrapped his arms around me allowing me to bury myself in him to keep warm, “What’s wrong y/n?” Barry asked, a slight tone of worry could be detected in his voice.

“Nothing Barr, tonight was perfect. You managed to magically win over each one of my family members,” desperately I tried to mask the sadness in my voice.

But he knew what I was feeling, he always did, “… except your brother.”

I nodded into his chest and he pulled me tighter. 

“Well, I’d like to meet him,” just then our car pulled up and we climbed into the car.

“Where are we going folks?” the driver asked cheerfully. Barry looked at me and mouthed “Where does he live?”

I beamed brightly and gave the driver my brother’s address. I turned and placed a soft chilled kiss on his lips, “My dad was right. You are a good man, Barry Allen.”

Came up with an idea of a guy who plants suggestions and charms people with words and suave voices, and they basically have a giant mouth for a face, yet still a charming sharp dresser. I called him “The Mouth”. 

From there I got an idea of a theme, with “The Ear” and “The Eyes”, a trio who completes each other. The Ear hear everything, the eyes see everything, and the mouth… well he speaks. In a way, they are basically the three wise monkeys.

An inspiration struck me when I thought of this concept, of the Ear having multiple ears, someone who gain great power but at a great cost. And thus, half of her head morphs into bat-like ears, and not even in symmetry at that. 

I thought of giving her bat nose, but had second thought and figure the lower half of her face could be normal to balance out the disfigured top half, and even thought of removing the teeth but I think I’ll keep it just for some charm. 

This is merely the first iteration though, might change in the future 

anonymous asked:

Hi, how would get a libra sun, Pisces moon, scorpio Venus and Leo mars guy fall for me? I'm a libra moon, Pisces Venus/rising x

leo mars likes a lot of attention and flash. They like confidence, sharp dressers, and independence. He’ll notice beauty, charm, thoughtfulness, and fierceness.

He’ll appreciate someone who is both polite and strong. Someone that gets along with everyone but also stands up for what they believe. They’ll appreciate humor, little romantic gestures, and kind words

Hey sooo… Just a thought but I’m p sure Crowley acts the way he does and likes the thing he does because:
In Hell, he’s a lowly demon with no power and no real position, someone anyone can push around, and then he gets up to the surface and can PICK what kind of human he’s going to be. So:
“Powerful humans wear suits and ties, so I’m going to be a sharp dresser.”
“Important humans own computers and cars and fax machines, so I’m going to get those things even though I don’t really need them.”
“James Bond is a cool guy that everyone likes and is in control no matter the situation he’s in, so I’m going to be like him.”

Also like consider….crowley getting plants because he wants to feel the feeling of having absolute power over some other living being for once instead of the other way around, but not having the heart to torture humans or small animals to get it.