you can tell he has an awful runway walk just from looking at the stills

anonymous asked:

can you do the neighbor au for seokmin, jihoon, and minghao?? only if you have time of course ^_^

joshua, mingyu & seungkwan can be found (here) ~
wonwoo, hoshi & seungcheol can be found (here)
[this post mentions snakes so if you’re scared of them be careful~!]


  • is barely ever actually at his apartment 
  • like he’s the kind of person that has a super active social life so he’s probably spending the night over at a different friend’s house every day of the week or getting home at like weird hours of the night
  • but the landlord doesn’t care because hey in the end he makes rent and that’s what matters
  • like his door is full of take out flyers and sometimes even packages stand out on his mat for like 3-4 days at a time because like ????? does he even come home like ????? ever
  • inside his apartment though he’s got a lot of stuff because he never really throws anything out ?? like he’s got CD’s from when he was kid, boxes full of comic books and old action figures, and thrown over his couch is a blanket he got second-hand from hoshi
  • and it’s really kinda cool though because he has bookshelves full of trinkets and books and photo albums
  • and on his wall he has photos of singers and rock bands he looks up to
  • and since this is an au, seokmin’s closet looks like you took it from the nineties lots of dad caps, flannels, and ripped jeans because tbh if seokmin was going to have an aesthetic as just a regular dude living on his own he’d probably keep up with his band days and be the type to own a ‘nirvana’ t-shirt 
  • does weird stuff when he’s home alone like sit on top of the kitchen table and eat take-out and drink his soda from something that looks more like a vase than it does a cup
  • and you don’t even know who seokmin is. you don’t even think the apartment next door to yours has anyone living in it
  • until you’re over at a party a couple of blocks down hosted by your friend seungcheol and somehow you get involved in this crazy game of twister
  • and it gets down to you and this boy,,,,,, who is kinda cute with his pretty half moon smile and really big grin
  • and you’re supposed to get your hand over his and like flip yourself around but you end up wobbling and falling forward,,,,,,,,RIGhT ontop of this cute boy
  • whom you’ve never meet
  • and you’re like !!!!!!!!! sfhksda im so sorry!!!!! but you’re also laughing because god how awkward to fall on someone during twister
  • but the boy is just laughing too and he’s like “don’t be sorry, it’s my pleasure ^^” and you’re like your pleasure??? and he’s like “ive never had someone so good looking fall ontop of me before ;)” 
  • and you playfully like nudge his arm before giggling into your palm
  • and then you hear seungcheol’s voice like “hey lovebirds get off the twister mat so we can restart the game!!!!”
  • and you flush red when you realize you two,,,,,,are just laying there in front of everyone at this party
  • so you get up and offer your hand to the boy who gladly accepts
  • and the rest of the party you two stick together and talk and you find out his name is seokmin!!! and that he’s really really hilarious and good at body gags and puns
  • and he’s so totally your type and to your surprise seokmin is like “THIS is gonna sound corny but,,,,,,,, you’re totally my type,,,,,,”
  • and you’re like omg no way that’s what i was thinking and you two burst into giggles again
  • and when it’s time to go,,,,,,,,,seokmin is like “let me make sure you get home safe!!” and you’re like oh sure i live a couple blocks down and he’s like whaT a coincidence me TOO
  • and as you’re walking you and him are talking more and more and tbh you stop and you’re like “i don’t wanna leave,,,,,,,,i wanna spend some more time but since i have to go let me do this-”
  • and you lean up to kiss his cheek and seokmin is like grinning and he’s like i don’t want you to go either
  • and as you continue walking he holds your hand and you smile, but you’re so happy because finally you went to a party and you acTUALLY met someone sweet
  • and you’re like ‘oh this is my building here!!” and seokmin looks up and he’s like ,,,,,,,,,,,, wait
  • i live here too
  • and you’re like what oh my god what floor
  • and then he says the same floor as you and you’re like NO WAY WHAT ARE WE NEIGHBORS
  • and yes,,,,,,,, turns out that apartment you thought was always empty is actually seokmin’s apartment 
  • and you’re both staring in awe until seokmin is like 
  • “hey maybe that means fate brought us together for a reason,,,,,,literally together because we’re neighbors and also because i like you let me take you out on a real date tomorrow?”


  • always worn-out and the kind of neighbor who would fall asleep in the elevator ride if it weren’t so short 
  • you can tell by his constant yawning that he probably spends a lot of the night up doing work,,,,and like his clothes never look ironed and if you see him going to take the garbage out or get the mail he’s like got a face-mask on and the most sleepy expression
  • but also he always lugs around a guitar case twice his size and a shoulder bag that seems stuffed to the brim with notebooks of all different sizes
  • and he’s respectful, nodding to elders and things like that but mostly he doesn’t speak much to others
  • and it’s probably because he’s got one million things on his mind but also,,,,,,,,,i repeat: tired
  • his apartment reflects his hard work like the one thing that’s most noticeable in the entire apartment is that his living room has a huge desk with dual monitors and a shelf stuffed with books on musical composition and journals full of songs and lyrics
  • and jihoon has pens in coffee mugs in the kitchen, paper crumpled near the foot of his bed (a bed he never uses since he falls asleep in the computer chair or on the carpet beside his desk)
  • and im not saying this au brings back ponytail!jihoon,,,,,,,but that’s exactly what im saying
  • and there’s a point in the week when you have some trouble sleeping so to calm down you make some tea and go out on your balcony to sit in the night air 
  • and that’s when you hear it,,,,, the soft strums of a guitar,,,,,, then a sudden stop,,,,,, and then the guitar again
  • and you look over and for the first time, even though it’s a bit dark you can make a figure out on the balcony beside yours and you tell yourself “isn’t that jihoon’s apartment?” 
  • because although you don’t talk much to him, you know him by first name because your neighbors and when he’d moved in you had stopped by to welcome him and he’d told you his name
  • but it’s weird,,,,,you’ve never seen him outside his apartment 
  • and you never knew that he,,,,,played the guitar so well like you’d seen the case and assumed he liked music but the melody you’re hearing now is absolutely gorgeous
  • but then it stops suddenly and you hear him grumble a loud that it’s no good
  • and before you can really think you get up and go “i really like it!”
  • and jihoon’s head snaps up an he’s looking at you from above the fence of his balcony and he’s like ,,,, “o-oh uh im sorry for disturbing you ill be quieter!”
  • but you’re shaking your head and you’re like “no, i really liked what you played, is it your own?” 
  • jihoon nods, looking shyly down at his hands because gjfsgfs he didn’t know anyone was listening ,,,,,
  • but you just smile and go “it’s pretty, i would want to hear more.”
  • and jihoon seems hesitant, but it’s like 2am and you’re the first person he’s talked to in days since working on this song so he asks if you’d really want to hear what else he has and you say you do
  • so he plays it,,,,,,, and you close your eyes so entranced by the sound
  • and it’s enough to even make you feel a bit sleepy and when it’s over you give him a thumbs up from your balcony and he just shyly hides his head, but he’s smiling
  • and you say goodnight as you go back inside
  • and as your head hits your pillow, the sound of jihoon’s guitar fills your memory and you fall asleep easily
  • while jihoon sits outside on the balcony, holding his guitar and thinking about how breathtaking you looked standing there, eyes closed, with the moon as your backdrop and you and him as the only ones awake in that moment ,,,,,


  • honestly,,,,,,,is he a model????? why does a model live in this building???? it must be because the rent isn’t that bad,,,,,,,
  • jkjkjk but seriously everyone is always in awe of minghao,,,,, because like is it humanly possible to look that good??? no matter what??? because he can come out in his pajamas and still look like he’s walking the runway at seoul fashion week good lord
  • but also,,,,,he’s just a sweet oblivious kid
  • and everyone whose older has the strong urge to offer him food and take care of him like maybe it’s because he’s so tall and thin but also just looking at him makes someone want to take care of him,,,,,he’s just so endearing
  • all the neighbors invite him over for dinner tbh he never even has to buy food
  • except jun will come over and literally eat every snack minghao has bought in the past week and minghao is looking at the wrappers all over his living room floor like: jun ge,,,,,,,,,,,,you’re a punk you know that right,,,,, (same goes for hoshi hyung who does the SAME damn thing some1 save minghao)
  • his apartment is pretty nice though,,,,like he’s got this nice aesthetic going with fresh flowers in the kitchen and lucky chinese charms hanging from the walls ,,,,,,, lots of tea and other herbs his mom sent him from china
  • it always smells really good in his house
  • but the coolest thing and like,,,,,,,ok seriously just think about this: minghao,,,,,,,,,,with a pet snake
  • and he has like a whole tank just for his pet,,,,who he named sunflower in chinese,,,,because of it’s yellow skin,,,,and when you first come in you’re like huh do you own a liz- THAT IS A SNAKE
  • but minghao love sunflower, he can take her out and wrap her around his shoulders and he’s like ‘she’s a shy thing, come and hold her’ 
  • also idk i just think he’d look so cool with a snake ,,,,,
  • but yes you find out one day about the snake because minghao gets in the elevator with you and he’s holding a box,,,,,,and the box just says,,,,,,mice
  • and you’re like “are those really,,,,,mice inside there?” and minghao smiles and he’s like “yes! for my sunflower!” and you’re like ,,,,,,,,,your sunflower???? and in your head you’re like is that his s/o??? why would they need mi-
  • and minghao is like “you wanna see her?” and you’re like ,,,,, “her?” and minghao is like “yeah!! sunflower!!” and tbh you’re like confused because you know minghao as he’s your neighbor, but you’ve always been scared to talk to him because lmao he’s beautiful and now he’s just inviting you to his house???? to see ‘her’?????
  • but the elevator is open and minghao is pulling you out by your wrist and he’s so excited that before you can even say much
  • you’re following him into his living room and he’s like “there she is~!” and you see it,,,,,,,the tank,,,,,,,,,,and then the little head of a S na ke ,,,,, and you’re like “t-t-t-that’s sunflower?” and minghao is like yep! and this is her meal!!”
  • and you figure out that whats in the box,,,,and why is was for sunflower,,,,,, and you might not watch sunflower ‘enjoy her meal’ but minghao just claps and is like “she’s pretty right??”
  • and you’re,,,,,,you know,,,,,,shell shocked to say the least but you’re like “yes,,,,,,she’s a pretty color,,,,,,” and minghao grins and he’s like “she also does a good job of keeping jun out of my house,,,,,he’s not fond of her.”
  • and you assume jun must be a friend of his but you laugh because that’s actually smart, say you have a pet snake and see how many of your friends refuse to ever come over again
  • but minghao turns to you and he’s like “usually people are running down the hall by now. good job.” and he ruffles your hair and you’re like,,,,,a bit embarrassed
  • and minghao is like “do you have any pets” and you guys talk about it until you say you have to go and minghao is like ok,,,,,you should come over and play with sunflower sometime!!!!
  • and you’re like gulping because how does one play with a snake,,,,and minghao can read your expression which just makes him laugh even more and he ruffles your hair again (he must really like doing that hmmm) and is like “don’t worry, ill be beside you to supervise!”
  • and you know,,,,,,,,why not like when will you get the chance to hang with a snake again so you’re like “sure!! just call me when you’re free~”
  • and minghao is like “oooo really?” and you’re like “sunflower,,,,,,,,seems nice,,,,,” and minghao grins and he’s like “i knew i liked you, sunflower will like you too~”
  • and you’re like well one you’re like oh you liked me 
  • but two now you have a play date with a snake,,,,,,,,,,,,,it’ll be worth it though
  • because one date with the snake but also,,,,,a date with xu minghao tbh i would sell my soul for that so snakes aren’t all that bad LOL 
Sentiments Mean Nothing

A/N: Welllll, first Harry Styles fic because, honestly, I’ve been a hardcore fan of his and the boys since literally 2011 and his solo career has been hitting me right in the heart, my baby’s doing so well, I’m such a proud mother. So, have this. This is, by far, the longest shot I’ve written on this blog so let’s hope it doesn’t get too boring and you enjoy it as much as I did writing it x.

Warning(s): Swearing, very slight Daddy kink at the end, suggestive sexual nature throughout

Word count: 4,261

Pairing(s): Harry Styles x Reader / Harry Styles x OC (Original Character)

          You know, it wasn’t so much that she and Harry hated each other, per se, rather it was just that they had both developed a sort of, mutual dislike towards one another that, quite frankly, neither of them knew where it stemmed from. The pair had done nothing wrong to each other to deserve the hostility, but it was there and they both never really knew why. It was very much like an ancient feud between them.

Very Montague vs. Capulet-esque.

However, considering that they’d only had the pleasure of knowing of the other’s existence for about 2 years, the use of the word, ‘ancient’, seems invalid. Nevertheless, from the moment they first met, there seemed to have been an already established tension between the two personalities and needless to say, neither of them cared for the personality of the other.

See, he was a private person, an introvert, you could say; despite being a household name around the world, and preferred to keep himself to himself regarding personal matters but being quite the socialite when it came to public appearances.

She, on the other hand, she was… loud, in Harry’s books. An outgoing and excitable character that wore her heart on her sleeve within the comfort of her inner circle in contrast to the shy, non-talkative woman he had met through a mutual friend during a party.

With him being the one to instigate the conversations the whole time with a drink in his hand and a wide, fake-looking smile that looked practiced for situations like these, she found him pretentious and over-bearing. Talking to her as if she was a little girl who was too immature to talk to strangers.

And with her barely opening her mouth to answer his questions, nodding her head up and down or shaking it from side to side instead as an indicator of her feelings to avoid awkward stutters and embarrassing herself, all the while sipping from her glass and avoiding the glint in his eyes as he talked to her, he found her dismissive and arrogant. As if she didn’t have the time to converse with someone like him.

Despite their feelings towards each other, though, they had wound up spending extended amounts of time together over the course of the 2 years seeing as she had managed to pick up the job of his fashion stylist ever since the band went on a hiatus and he launched his solo career.

Although, the former cold-shoulders and silent treatments as they went on with their own tasks for the day started to dissolve. Their prejudices were still upheld, just shown in a slightly different manner as they became more accepting and comfortable towards their mutual distaste for one another.

During the first year, scornful glances and tight smiles were shared as they conversed briefly as to what Harry would be wearing for his next TV appearance. This was to be replaced during the second year with extra touchy-feely advances to tease and sarcastic remarks followed by cheesy pet-names to piss each other off were exchanged as she took Harry’s new measurements.

“You should buy me dinner ‘fore you get on your knees, sweetheart.” A dirty, but snide, comment was normal from Harry and she had honestly been expecting it from the moment she had started to measure his inseam.

“’S a good thing you pay for dinner then, i'n’t it? Tha’ way you can get on your knees for me.” She spoke in rebuttal before leaning back into a squatting position and standing back up. Her heels adding a good three inches to her height but still not nearly as tall as the 5'11" man in front of her.

She pivoted on her heel to place the measuring tape back in its rightful place before recording the numbers into her little journal of everything important she needed to know about Harry in order to fit him perfectly to his tailor-made, brand-name outfits.

She heard him step off the mini platform at the centre of the room and stalk behind her, his warmth radiating from his body to hers.

Why does he always stand so close, for fuck sake, it’s like he has no spacial awareness.” It was times like these where she thought to herself if there would be any chance in the world, where she could find a genuine bubble she could permanently place Harry in to avoid the close contact every minute, she would.

“Tell me again why we need t’ do these fitting things every six months? Seriously, ’m a grown man, my body doesn’t change tha’ much in tha’ time period.” Harry starting to fiddle with her pen she just used to write with as his minty breath fanned over the right side of her face.

“It does with your irregular fucking diet plans, Styles. Would it kill you t’ stick t’ one regime?” She spun around and leant against the grand table with her arms folded, looking up at the, now short-haired, tattooed man as he shifted to put his hands on the edge of the intricate furniture either side of her body.

“Mm, I think ’s jus’ 'cause you wanna try your hand at seducing me during these sessions.” His voice lowered down to a sultry, deep tone in an attempt to fluster his stylist but she, as always, stands her ground.

“If I wanted t’ seduce you, baby, I would’ve done it by now,” She leant up slightly, the endearing term fell from her mouth without hesitance while their breaths mixed between their parted lips as she continued. “And besides, size 10 feet? Not tha’ impressive.” She smirked subtly as she saw his face fall. He knew what she was indirectly referring to and, judging by the way he reacted, she knew she had hit a nerve in which she also gathered he would to try prove her wrong.

But before he could, however, she slipped out from underneath him and started walking towards the entrance to exit the room, her heels clicking against the expensive marble floors, not bothering to close the chrome door and yelling a, “make sure t’ lock the door when you leave!” to a rigid Harry who let out a sigh and rubbed his ring-clad hands over his face to let out some frustration towards the woman who was trapped in between him and the mahogany table not even thirty seconds ago, before slamming his hand on it and purposely leaving the door wide open in spite.


Was the only word from the judgmental, but somehow always right, fashion stylist that Harry heard as he did a twirl in his new suit. Having quite the admiration towards the look, if he does say so himself, after inspecting it in the mirror.

“Whyy?” He drew out the word to emphasise his annoyance with the constant change of outfits. He might as well be a marathon runner, he’s breaking a sweat from changing his bloody clothes.

“Because, honey, the shirt doesn’t match the suit at all. That’s why I told yeh t’ wear black, not white, bu’ look who didn’t listen yet again.” She stood there behind him with her pen held in between her front teeth and one arm around her torso to keep her other elbow resting on top, catching his eye through the mirror.

He scans her choice of clothing today and, as per usual, she’s wearing the most stylish and trendy pieces that she matches so well with her heels. Harry’s never really understood how she so effortlessly throws together a look ready for the runway everyday when she comes into work but still manages to keep it light and casual as if it was the first thing she found in her closet earlier in the morning.

He trailed his eyes up her body, tanned and fit, may he add, to her subtly made up face which was glowing. He assumed it was from the highlighter she applied, because why else would he describe her as 'glowing’? That’s disgusting. He doesn’t like her. Not one bit.

“Have you quite finished staring at me, or do I need t’ get the camera for yeh so it’ll last longer?” She allowed the tease to be projected as she approached him, standing on the tiny platform, meaning their bodies were now pressed against each others’ closely before she shrugged off his suit jacket and started unbuttoning his dress shirt.

“'Ey, 'ey, 'ey. You normally need t’ get me drunk first before we can 'ave some fun, darlin’.” He smirked down at her, watching as she aggressively rolled her sparkling eyes at his comment. She continued to pull the shirt off of him and stepped down to grab the black shirt she had wanted him to wear in the first place.

As she turned around, she couldn’t help but notice a slight change in his physical appearance. His back muscles seemed more prominent. His thighs looked even more full than they already were when she last took a good look at them. His arms were bulkier. His torso now adorned with evident bumps of abdominal muscles. Even his cute, little bum seemed rounder and plumper which made her stifle a giggle.

“Awe, babe, have you been working out?” She had to bite her bottom lip to stop her bursting out into laughter when she caught him standing up a bit straighter, looking proud that his work was noticeable.

“Nice t’ know you were checking me out back there. Like wha’ yeh see, angel?” The pet-names were used as a kind of second nature to the pair of them now, but they were far from endearments. No, on the contrary, they were always laced with slight undertones of incivility and cheek. They were both familiar with them by now.

“Oh, most definitely. You been working out jus’ for me? I know ’m the only one you strip down for lately.” She referenced to the multiple outfit decisions they had to endure with every appearance he made in public, which people would be surprised as to how often that is, and she had to make sure that he was not seen repeating a look. God forbid he wore the same trousers twice.

She slowly made her way towards the, still shirtless, male stood in the middle of the high-ceiling-ed chamber, decorated with mirrors, as she ran her hands up and down his back before rubbing at his shoulders. Harry’s head fell back at the sensation of the soothing motions on his shoulders, he had been meaning to go to a masseuse to get the knots out of his joints for a while now. He closed his eyes and let out a content sigh, completely forgetting that she would be the last person on Earth he would want to touch him like this a few days ago but he allowed the action.

“Yeh know I was filming 'Dunkirk’, sweetie, don’t flatter yourself.” He retorted as he pulled her round to his front by her waist and leant his body against hers, his frame towering over her smaller one.

“’S a shame, really. And here I was, about t’ let you have your way with me only if you had jus’ admitted this is all for me.” She fake-pouted as she taunted him, something she has perfected over the years, with her hands resting against his naked chest. There was something about the way her clothed, soft chest was pressed into his bare, hard one that made the both of them lose control of the situation at hand temporarily as they focused on each other in that moment.

“Don’t tempt me, baby.” His voice switched to a low whisper, a threat almost.

“I don’t have to.” She replied with confidence, her eyes flickering to his raspberry-coloured lips that looked so inviting.

It was strange for the both of them, being in this position they’d never thought they’d see themselves in, but here they are. Through all the slight sexual tension covered up by distasteful remarks about each other over the years, clouded by the decision subconsciously made that they had a repulsion towards one another, they had failed to realise that attraction could’ve easily been confused with said repulsion, convincing themselves that it was a fact neither of them liked the other and that was final. Perhaps too afraid to confess and deal with the consequences of their feelings.

Just as they begun to come to terms with the compromising position they were in, and even more conflicting emotions fluttering around the space, the door was pushed open and two flailing bodies broke apart at lightning speed. Harry quickly finding his black shirt and fumbling with the buttons as the flustered stylist violently grabbed her journal and pretended to write in it whilst holding the pen upside down.

Not another word was spoken between the two of them as they complete the fitting session, everyone coming to a conclusion that the black shirt was indefinitely better than the white, much to Harry’s dismay, and their day was done.

The two parted and went their separate ways, however, the mental image of the other never left their minds for the rest of the week until they had to face the music at the next session.

          Harry was fucked.

Royally fucked.

So fucked, in fact, that he decided to wallow in self-pity at how fucked he was then he went out and fucked a random girl whilst thinking of fucking his attractive stylist he had now realised he had already fucked things over with.

If that doesn’t scream, “fucked”, I don’t know what does.

Though what he didn’t know, was that said stylist was also feeling the same way about him and was completely distraught over the idea that she might like Harry Styles. The same Harry that would make her want to rather die than converse with him for more than ten minutes. The same Harry that would tempt her to spit in his food whenever it got delivered during the fittings. The same Harry that would force her to socialise with large groups of people she didn’t know when he knew it made her uncomfortable.

But it was also the same Harry that, when he held her in his arms that other day, made her feel warm and fuzzy on the inside. And it was the same Harry with pink, soft lips that she wanted to kiss so desperately whilst, at the same time, tugging on his curly locks.

Though, more importantly, he was her Harry. He had always been her Harry to tease, to taunt, to tantalise, and to mess with until he’d get all riled up and sometimes push her against the wall (which she didn’t necessarily mind). But now, she wanted to describe him as being her Harry in a different way, and that scared the shit out of her.

She didn’t know what the fuck to do anymore, it’s like her life lost all purpose if she couldn’t make fun of the Cheshire-raised lad, and now all she wanted to do was tell him about her family and cuddle. She had actually begun to suspect she had developed some sort of illness and hoped it would go away like a common cold.

Although, she figured this was not the case the next time she saw him, in all his 5'11" glory, at a party very much like the one they first met at two years ago. Sipping on her alcoholic beverage, she observed him from far away as he mingled, as he always does so flawlessly, with people she had never seen before in her life. The very mere fact that he was in her presence not even ten feet away made her stomach tighten with new feelings she never thought she would associate with the musician and she hated herself for it.

Turning her body away from him towards the bar, she asked for another drink, slipping the rectangular note of currency towards the bartender as he fixed her up yet another glass. She knew she had most likely needed to have stopped drinking so heavily around the 'two hours ago’ mark, but right now, she really couldn’t care less, she just wanted to forget about Harry and if getting her stomach pumped for the first time means achieving her goal then fuck it.

Her motive was short-lived, however, since the charming man that was swimming her mind plopped himself on the stool next to her and gave her a sly smirk.

“Wha’ do we 'ave here?” He questioned, mainly to himself, as he observed the obviously intoxicated woman in front of him.

She rolled her eyes, hopping off the high stool, only to fall face first into Harry’s crotch which made him jerk back at the impact and let out a slight groan before cupping her cheeks and lifting her head up to inspect how far gone she really is.

“Heloooo, handsummm!” She tried her best to imitate a wolf-whistle seeing as she couldn’t actually whistle so instead made a sort of high-pitched, 'whi-woo’, as she trailed her index finger down the curve of his cheek and smiling drunkenly, “I misst yeww…” The slur in her words concerned him, not knowing how much she’s had to drink and she clearly could not stand up without support.

“’M gonna take yeh home, okay, baby girl? You’re alrigh’.” He scooped her up into his arms without any struggle and started to manoeuvre his way out of the clammy air of the bar to the nippy, fresh air of the London streets. He set her down on her feet for a second, leaning her against him to keep her balance, as he took off his jacket and wrapped it around her, knowing that even though his place was only a rough 20 minute walk from the party location, the chilly air would get to her more easily than it would him, she’d always been sensitive to the cold, and at this time of night, it certainly didn’t make the air more humid.

After a solid few minutes of walking to his abode, they finally reached the welcoming front door of his mansion, him fiddling in his pocket to find the right set of keys before twisting the lock and pushing the door open. A gust of warm, fruit-scented air hit the both of them as he stepped inside, laying her down on his extended white sofa in the living room before closing the door.

“Mmm, are yeh gon’ sex me up noww, Daddy?” Her sudden words making him choke on his own spit, as he cautiously walked towards the tiny figure resting on his comfortable seating area.

“No, no, ’m not, baby, not right now, yeh need t’ rest. I’ll get yeh some water and some Advil t’ take then we can go t’ bed, okay?” He spoke in a soft, calming tone that made her suddenly relaxed, only finding the strength in her to nod before he stroked her hair back from her face and made his way to the well-presented, expensive kitchen with more room than he needed.

As a matter of fact, all the rooms in this place were more than he needed, if he was honest, but he just didn’t know what else to use his money on.

Approaching the worn-out female sprawled across his sofa with a glass of fresh water and two pills in his other hand, he set down the glass on the side table whilst reaching his hand out to tilt her head up slightly and sit her up enough so she could swallow comfortably. He pried open her mouth by holding her jaw and placed the pills on the top of her tongue that had traces of alcohol left on it, bringing the liquid up to her lips and telling her to swallow gently. She obeyed and took the medication before slumping back onto the cushiony surface as he sighed, soaking in her beauty, even in this state of mind.

He watched as she closed her eyes and got comfortable, taking it as his cue to leave her to sleep, so kissed her forehead with care, and started to prepare to deal with whatever shit storm that was bound to happen, in the morning. Well, that was until he heard a small whine coming from her calling out for him.

“Harryy?… Stay wit’ meh? I wan’ cuddles.” She rubbed her eyes with her knuckles and he couldn’t stop himself from smiling gently at the sight. She was just so adorable, how could he say no?

“’M right here, poppet, ’m not going anywhere.” He answered her before carefully laying down beside the inebriated girl he had grown fond of these past couple of weeks and tangled their limbs together, letting her rest her head against his chest and wrap herself around him in an attempt to snuggle and use him as her own personal pillow and blanket.

As he listened to her breathing become regular and so quiet he had to strain to listen to it, he knew she had fallen asleep so pressed another tender kiss to the crown of her head and whispered to her in her unconscious state.

“I’d never leave you.”

And it was in that sweet moment that Harry now realised that she had a hold on him, and he intended on not letting go.

          Harsh rays of bright sunlight beamed through white, sheer curtains and hit her face as she stirred from her slumber. It was a Saturday morning and she was definitely not in the comfort of her own home so thought the worst and groaned inwardly in shame at herself for letting herself get so wasted. The first thing she did was just look down at her, what she expected to be, naked body, but instead found herself and the mystery man fully clothed. Confusion overtook her features and something she noticed right away was that her 'pillow’ was breathing and they’re not supposed to do that, right? Or was she still tripping from the after effects of the amounts of alcohol she consumed last night?

A wave of pain radiated throughout her head as she groaned, bringing a palm to her forehead in an unsuccessful attempt to soothe it slightly. Her movements unnoticeably woke up her 'pillow’ and startled her when the familiar deep, raspy, and, dare she say, sexy morning voice sounded from underneath her.

Oh, fuck me, not Harry. Anyone but Harry.” She thought to herself, although not truly meaning it since she found herself absentmindedly wanting the situation to have been more… wild.

“Well, good mornin’, sunshine.” He chuckled lightly at her facial expression following the pet-name he had chosen.

“Wha’ the fuck happened last night?” She asked half-heartedly.

Part of her didn’t really care what happened whilst the other part dreaded what his answer would be.

“You really don’t remember?” His voice was thick with an emotion she couldn’t quite pin-point but she did know that she felt guilty after hearing it, sensing that he was a little disappointed.

She merely shook her head and bit her lip, titling her head up to read his clouded eyes, they always gave away whatever he was thinking, she detected this within the first few months of knowing him.

“It doesn’t matter, now can you get off of me, you’re starting t’ feel like a deadweight. I honestly can’t feel my legs.” His whole demeanour changed in a split second and she was a little surprised but what did she expect, really? He’s just the same old Harry, though she’d be lying if she said it didn’t hurt a little.

“I’m not getting up 'til you tell me exactly wha’ happened, Harry.” She was adamant. She was always the type of person to get answers out of whoever she wanted, he was starting to wonder why she wasn’t a fucking lawyer or something.

“Listen, nothin’ happe-.” He was cut off by her swollen lips pressed against his.

To say he was shocked would be an understatement, he was bloody flat-lining on the inside but he quickly reciprocated the sudden, but passionate, kiss as he wrapped his arms around her waist with her hands coming up to caress his cheeks. Her legs ended up either side of his torso and she pulled away just before he had the chance to poke his tongue in her mouth, just to tease, like normal.

“D'yeh want something t’ happen?…” She questioned him inquisitively, not 100% sure that he shared the same feelings that she had pent up inside of her for, what felt like, decades.

He responded by flipping her so she laid on her back instead and hovered over her, leaning down to peck her lips once more before moving down to her neck and pressing open-mouthed kisses along the skin.

“All ’ve been thinkin’ 'bout for ages, darlin’. Let Daddy make yeh feel good.” He smirked into her skin once he felt her gasp quietly and visibly tense at his words.

“I called you, 'Daddy’, last night, didn’t I?” Her cheeks flushed with embarrassment once she heard him chuckle and answer with a muffled, “you did”.

“And it definitely won’t be the last time.” He commented in a sultry voice before raising his head to make eye contact with her and leaning down to connect his lips with hers another time.

He made a promise, and he was damn hell-bent on making sure he kept it.


A Klaroline soulmate AU! with a twist. Inspired by that tumblr post. 

Caroline gets her soulmate mark when she’s five. She traces over the letters as they etch across her skin, a tickle of gold that has her giggling as the lifelong ink fades to black.

Then she sees the final word of the first sentence that her one true love, her Prince Charming will say to her and she gasps in horror.

“Mommy! Mommy!” Liz Forbes looks up from the kitchen table where she’s leaving through case notes and when she notes the sudden scrawl across her daughter’s left wrist she laughs to herself. It’s an old game of Caroline’s by now, to imagine the first words her soulmate will ever say to her. It’s getting longer and more outlandish the older she grows but it’s still pretty cute.

However rather than the typical delight her little actress feigns ever time, Caroline looks horrified instead. Oh shit. Liz immediately checks her daughter over for injuries and can’t see anything so she practically dives out of the chair so that she can embrace Caroline the second she gets close enough.

“What honey? What happened?”

“My mark came and it’s scary!”

“What? Now Caroline,” Liz starts, getting annoyed that Caroline’s taken the game to dramatic lengths now.

“Mommy look!” Caroline says with the haughty impatience that makes her the lead when she, Bonnie and Elena play Princesses. The little girl grabs her mother’s hand before Liz can read what Caroline’s written on her skin and drags the woman’s hand across her skin. It doesn’t smudge at all, and that script is far more elegant than something a five year old could write.

A true smile blossoms on Liz’s face, Caroline’s cries forgotten “Sweetie, that’s wonderf-“

“Mommy!” Caroline reprimands getting annoyed now. She stomps her little foot “Look”

So Liz twists round so she can see Caroline’s soulmate mark properly and the pit drops out of her stomach, thinking of the hidden history of Mystic Falls and how she’d hoped to keep Caroline as far away from it as possible. Death, blood, fear. It seems they will be a part of Caroline’s future anyway. Maybe a trip to Sheila Bennett is in order after all.

I can’t believe Dumbledore died!

Whoever Dumbledore was, it was understandable as to why Caroline had reacted with horror. After smoothing Caroline’s curls, mind racing as Liz tried to think of the name Dumbledore, any connection to Mystic Falls and coming up short, she packs Caroline into the car and heads to Bonnie’s grandmother.

Sheila sees a lightning struck tower and a billowing cloak, a flash of green light but no more. It does nothing to assuage Caroline or Liz’s fears.

They spend years trying to find out about a Dumbledore but any reference comes from old manuscripts, years ago. Unless it has something to do with a mystery Caroline will become tangled in during her later years, the Forbes come up empty.

Then the first Harry Potter book is published.

Mother and Daughter stare open mouthed at each other across the duvet where Liz had been reading Caroline the story as her new bedtime story.

All those years, all that concern over a book character. Caroline throws the book against the wall, declaring that Harry Potter has been spoilt forever. After that, Liz does some subtle flicking and finds out that Dumbledore does not die in the first book. Meaning he will die in whatever comes after.

Caroline also starts wearing a cuff around her wrist hiding the mark after someone who is halfway through the book on a bus shouts at her about spoilers. It’s rather isolating being the only child not to read Harry Potter, to know the plot before its even published.

But she manages. She remembers never to mention it when Harry Potter crops up in conversation and does eventually read the books, wondering when she’ll read the fatal words, hear that shout of disbelief.

It never comes.

Then Harry Potter and the Halfblood Prince is announced. Everyone’s talking about something shocking in the book. She had thought it would happen in the last one, but that had surprisingly turned out to be Sirius Black. Enzo is the one to text her, a snapshot of the page telling her she can finally take the fucking cuff off. So she tweets it to J.K. Rowling herself who graciously thanks her for keeping the secret all these years and sends her a bunch of goodies to make up for having the books spoiled for her.

Then she, Bonnie, Elena and Enzo watch The Half Blood Prince in theatres. Of course they all know what’s going to happen and all of the others know that Caroline’s soulmate mark contains the spoiler. Clearly whoever she’d destined to be with is a complete pain in the ass. Not only had he spoiled one of the world’s most famous franchises before it had even been published he hadn’t read the books. She’d somewhat dramatically ripped off the concealing cuff when the other three hadn’t believed that she’d known.

They’re wiping at their eyes as they file out of the cinema, discussing the difference between book and screen when a British man’s voice rings out across the lobby in surprise. The lightening tower, the green light, it’s all as Sheila had foreseen.  

“I can’t believe that Dumbledore died!”

The four friends freeze in surprise. Caroline whirls round, eyes scanning the room for the source of the exclamation. A downright gorgeous blond man, talking animatedly to two blonde women who going off the resemblance have to be his sisters, while three other men walk behind them nodding.

Caroline doesn’t even think about using her indoor voice when she screeches in incandescent rage “YOU! IT WAS YOU!” jabbing her finger into the air at him to direct her accusation.

He might be one good-looking son of a bitch but he had destroyed the magic of Harry Potter for her. He’s going the fuck down. Just as Caroline and the others had, the blond asshole, who she has referred to as Dursley for years and his entourage freeze.

Evidently, they are all well aware of what words are tattooed on Dursley –bastard’s wrist.  A tall, dark haired mischievious looking guy in the back dissolves into laughter and Caroline’s soulmate kind of drifts across the sticky carpet towards her. He looks like a runway model but he’s watching her with a kind of dreamstruck awe on his face.

He stops in front of her. Looks at his wrist and then back at her. A wicked, crooked smile grows on his lips, eyes dancing.

Oh fuck me. Caroline thinks. The colour of her thoughts takes a deeper, crimson hue. And he’s English. Fuck me. Caroline licked at her lips, nibbling unconsciously on the bottom one.

The blonde, chiselled Greek God in front of her stopped and his eyes stained a deeper shade of navy.

“That’s really not how I imagined those words being said” His voice was painfully husky, though at his words Caroline came out of her lust filled haze with a clunk.

The (apparent) love of her life had not only ruined Harry Potter but also reduced her to a puddle of goo after causing her to make a small scene. Not for the first time, Caroline considered what her life would have been like if she’d just become a nun as she’d seriously been considering at the height of Harry Potter when she couldn’t say anything.

So she slaps him.

If what-his-face hadn’t looked in love before he certainly did now.

“My name is Klaus” he says, pointed and edging closer.




“That’s what it means” His smart mouth was as bad as hers. Oh boy.

Case in point the next thing that comes out of Caroline’s mouth is “You ruined Harry Potter for me” its whispered in a sort of bewildered betrayal. Klaus looks as if he’s about to object before he evidently remembers that soulmates get their marks at the same time.

His mouth does a little ‘oh’ of understanding.

And that’s how Klaus ended up taking Caroline to Harry Potter World by way of apology for their first date.

anonymous asked:

One of Adam's firsts? Something he didn't have the chance to do as a kid because his dad thought it was a waste of time or money? Adam's first petting zoo/Aquarium? Adam's first amusement park? Adam's first, uh, airplane ride/vacay out of Virginia?

“We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to,” Ronan says, cautiously. Ronan is hardly ever cautious, which makes Adam feel even worse.

“It’s fine,” he replies flatly, drying his palms on his jeans. Ronan, as always hyper-aware of Adam’s hands, gives him a skeptical look.

“I can see that. Listen, it’s not too late to cancel.” 

Adam can tell both that Ronan doesn’t want to cancel, and that he would in a heartbeat.

“It is too late to cancel,” he says stubbornly. “We would lose the money.”

“I’m not exactly terrified, Parrish.”

Adam throws him a withering glance. “Some of us don’t have the ability to just dream up checks.”

Ronan shrugs. It’s not real, this sparring, Adam knows that, even though only a year and some change ago it would have devolved into an absolutely real and ugly fight. The calculated insolence in the set of Ronan’s shoulders means he’s putting on an act, pushing Adam’s buttons with the spoilt Aglionby prince attitude, in an effort to distract him from his nerves. Adam is a little awed – both at Ronan’s strange brand of thoughtfulness and at their ability to read each other so well. He guesses dating for a year will do that.

A year. He can hardly believe it. And yet they’ve lasted this long, in spite of demons, hit men, and the various obstacles of long-distance relationships. And that’s why they’re here, at an airport, waiting to board a flight to Paris for their first anniversary. Paris, of all places. That’s something else Adam can’t believe.

Keep reading

Nct U having a model as a crush

Request: Hi friend! I was wondering if I could request a reaction for NCT U to their crush is a model (walks down runways,on magazines,featured in posters, etc) ???? Thank you so much in advanced 💖

A/N: sure thing !! this was so fun aw . and also i made you ( the reader ) as the model so hope you don’t mind


Knowing Taeil and his naturally awkward personality , he’d just stare at you in awe 24/7 with his mouth agape everytime he attends your shows ,as you walk down the runway , flaunting every part of your body .

And when both of you got invited to a television show one day , he got super flustered and couldn’t sleep the night before , thinking about how to start the conversation with you without making things obvious .

His face shows a light shade of pink and he gives a small calm smile but internally he’s just :


Originally posted by taeyounq


When he was first saw you , he was stunned by your beauty and your charming smile . He has stacks of magazines full of pictures of you sitted neatly on his desk and he looks at them almost everyday .

When your company invited him to be one of the special runway models for a special event , he agreed right away and laughed/giggled shyly as soon as he saw you . He tried acting casual and calm but you could tell he was shy , as he couldn’t hold eye contact with you for more than 5 seconds , and he was constantly blushing

Originally posted by 1aeyong


This bunny first saw you when he was hosting one of the shows you were in , and as soon as he saw you walking down elegantly , he instantly smiled and accidentally mentioned “ Beautiful ” into the mic , which wasn’t in the script and everyone else in the room heard , causing him to blush like crazy

When you thanked him afterwards backstage for the compliment , he was shocked and was still blushing

Originally posted by yoon-to-the-oh


As the both of you were under SM , you occasionally saw him practising in the dance room when you were needed at the building for meetings . Same for him , he often stared at you and smiled to himself when you came , and he offered you to buy you drinks once .

He’d take this matter the easiest , and he’d treat you very casually and nicely , and even though he doesn’t make it obvious that he likes you , you’re still able to tell because he saved your contact name as “ prettiest model ” & you saw him bought a poster of you before

And he often acts cool in front you , trying to gain your attention like:

Originally posted by nctjay


Like Ten ,Jeffrey Jaehyun would also be pretty chill with his actions , and wouldn’t want to make it too obvious too . But whenever you post your photo shoot images on social media , he’s always the first few to comment ,to the point where both your fans were speculating if the both of you were dating

“ As beautiful as always ”

“ Gorgeous Y/N !! ”

“ Always supporting you ”

And everytime he sees you on the runway he’s just like:

Originally posted by yoon-to-the-oh


This smol little bun first saw you when you were on a show together once , and he was so stunned by your beauty he couldn’t stop thinking about you the whole day .

He has pictures of you saved in his phone and he tries to watch every of your shows as much as he can , and everytime he does he smiles shyly and blushes non stop , just like the first time you said hi to him,

His heart almost stopped from the happiness .

Originally posted by why-jaehyun

Jared’s interview for The Wall Street Journal (September issue, 2017)

by Josh Eells

Cover & photoshoot by Terry Richardson - click HERE

Hanging Out With Jared Leto

An Oscar-winning actor who is also a tech entrepreneur, stadium-filling rock star, fashion icon and successful Silicon Valley investor? Welcome to the high-flying life of Jared Leto

WHEN JARED LETO’S people say the plan is to meet “at Jared’s base,” I assume it’s a jet-setter’s figure of speech—as in, last month he was rock climbing in Menorca, next month he’s at Fashion Week in Milan, but Los Angeles is his base. But no—they mean an actual base: a decommissioned Air Force station tucked into the hills near Laurel Canyon, built during World War II to warn of incoming Japanese planes. The 100,000-square-foot compound, which Leto has called home since 2015, features 4-foot-thick concrete blast walls, a nuclear fallout shelter and a genuine air-traffic-control tower; it’s slightly absurd that it exists 10 minutes from the Sunset Strip, much less that someone lives in it.

On the other hand, if anyone’s going to inhabit a top-secret Cold War compound in the heart of Los Angeles, it’s probably Jared Leto.

Leto has a long history of outlandishness, whether it’s waxing his body and shedding more than 30 pounds to portray a transgender AIDS patient in Dallas Buyers Club, or sending his castmates condoms and a live rat while playing the Joker in last year’s Suicide Squad. Beneath the theatrics, he’s an industrious quintuple-threat: Oscar-winning actor, stadium-filling rock star (with his band, Thirty Seconds to Mars), digital-media entrepreneur, burgeoning fashion icon and—as if you don’t hate him enough already—successful tech investor, whose long list of winning bets includes Uber, Snapchat, Spotify and Airbnb. “I joke sometimes that I get more done on a movie set than I do when I’m off,” he says, “because I’m not as distracted.”

We’d originally planned to go for a hike today—Leto’s a big hiker—but it’s sweltering in L.A., 94 in the shade, and he’s been dealing with some back problems, so instead we’re hanging in his backyard, a shady xeriscape with a sadly neglected pool. To relieve his back, Leto is sitting cross-legged on the ground, dressed in a white Gucci T-shirt, green Gucci jogging pants (from the women’s collection) and a pair of worn-out gray Ugg slippers. His hair is its natural shade of chestnut, and his beard has achieved 1840s-prospector length. He also has the best posture I’ve ever seen. At 45, he looks almost exactly as he did nearly 25 years ago, when he first became famous playing the angsty heartthrob Jordan Catalano on My So-Called Life.

“I call him Babyface,” says his friend Alessandro Michele, creative director at Gucci. “He is timeless—it is almost impossible to give him age. If Visconti were still alive, he would love to work with Jared.”

Last night Leto was up late in the studio, working on his band’s next album. He woke around 9 a.m.—no alarm, as usual—and enjoyed his standard breakfast of muesli and almond milk, then spent some time tending to his back—heat, ice; meditation. But leisurely appearances aside, “it’s actually a super-busy time,” Leto says. In a few days he’s flying to Kazakhstan for a concert with the band; then he’ll start getting ready to promote his new film, Blade Runner 2049—the much-anticipated sequel to the dystopian 1982 sci-fi classic, in which Harrison Ford played an L.A. cop hunting down rogue androids.

Leto still remembers the first time he saw the original on VHS. “It was one of those films I just connected with,” he says. “I’ve watched it every couple of years.” In the sequel, he has what he calls “a small part” as a character named Niander Wallace, who creates said androids, known in the Blade Runner universe as “replicants.”

Denis Villeneuve, the director of the new film, says the inspiration for Leto’s character was David Bowie. “I needed a very charismatic, magnetic presence, someone with the aura of a rock star,” Villeneuve says. “But I also needed a great actor, because the lines he had to say were quite Shakespearean.” The character is also blind, and true to form, Leto—who once hung out with homeless junkies in Manhattan’s East Village to portray a heroin addict in Requiem for a Dream—dove in head-first. “We all heard stories about Jared, how he transforms into the characters,” Villeneuve says. “But even this didn’t prepare me for what was to come.”

Not content to simply act blind, Leto decided to become blind, ordering customized contact lenses that made his eyes totally opaque. “He entered the room, and he could not see at all,” Villeneuve recalls. “He was walking with an assistant, very slowly. It was like seeing Jesus walking into a temple. Everybody became super silent, and there was a kind of sacred moment. Everyone was in awe. It was so beautiful and powerful—I was moved to tears. And that was just a camera test!”

Leto stayed blind for the entire shoot, guided around set and never laying eyes on the rest of the cast. “That, for me, was insane,” Villeneuve says. “But he really created something. Every time Jared came on set, it was a boost of energy, tension and excitement.” (For his part, Leto says, he “didn’t dive as deep down the rabbit hole as maybe I’ve done before, but I stayed really focused.” Of course, he didn’t delude himself that he was actually blind. “I’m crazy,” he says, “but I’m not insane.”)

As he sits here in his garden, it’s easy to see the commitment that Leto can summon. He’s incredibly calm and still, with no extraneous movements, like some lizardlike desert creature conserving energy in the heat. He listens intently, with laserlike eye contact, and he barely seems to blink. (Says Michele, “I call him a monk sometimes, because he’s so concentrated.”) With his ageless physicality and otherworldliness, he could almost be a replicant himself.

Villeneuve agrees. “He has a kind of eternal youth syndrome. But the thing I love about Jared is that he’s really at peace with himself. He’s a perfectionist. And like all rock stars, he has a bit of narcissism. But it’s a narcissism that I can deal with.”

WE’VE BEEN TALKING a while when Leto hops up and starts doing a little shake. I tell him to feel free to walk around or stretch if he needs to. “No,” he says. “I was getting covered with ants. I’m going to make them work a little harder.”

We retreat inside the safety of the base, where Leto offers to take me on a tour. Although he moved in a couple of years ago, the place remains a work in progress, with dingy floor tiles, scuffed white paint and the distinct odor of midcentury bureaucracy lingering in the halls. “I’m going to redo it at some point,” Leto says, “make it nice. But I’m kind of just camping out.”

We start in his bedroom.“It’s fancy,” Leto warns. But he opens the door to reveal a glorified walk-in closet, maybe 200 square feet, with small windows, a loveseat and a mattress sitting right on the floor. “It’s amazing,” Leto says, smiling. “When it comes down to it, you don’t need very much.” The only hint of luxury is a portable clothes rack that holds what looks like a small fortune in high-end apparel—most of it from his friend Michele at Gucci.

Recently Leto has become the label’s face, both officially and unofficially, starring in a fragrance campaign and often rocking ensembles in public taken straight from the runway. The infatuation runs both ways: “I’ve been inspired by him many times,” Michele says. “The way he puts gym pants with crazy hats or something—it’s beautiful. He says, ‘I don’t care about fashion,’ but it’s not true. He’s like the most fashionable gypsy you can imagine.”

Leto seems amused that he’s become a style icon—“There was a period a decade ago when I wore Hare Krishna clothes”—but he does admit to getting bolder and more confident with age. “When I was younger I was like, ‘Give me something black,’ ” he says. “But now I love color. You know how you see old guys wearing loud Hawaiian shirts? If I walk off the bus, and the crew starts laughing, I know I put the right thing on.”

We proceed deeper into the bowels of the house, passing large metal tins labeled SURVIVAL CRACKERS (“I haven’t opened them yet”) and a few doors marked USAF TOP SECRET. After World War II ended, the base became a military film studio, churning out propaganda films hosted by the likes of Jimmy Stewart. “There are so many crazy rumors about this place,” Leto says. “Everything from ‘Part of the moon landing was filmed here’ to ‘They used to keep prisoners downstairs.’ They had laboratories. They were doing all kinds of God-knows-what.” He is clearly enamored by this.

In one of the building’s subbasements, we pass Leto’s home gym (with photos of Schwarzenegger and Bruce Lee) and then the garage where he keeps his vintage Ford Bronco—a metallic-blue beast with orange flames down the side, a birthday gift from his brother, Shannon. “He was like, ‘You can get it repainted,’ ” Leto says, “and I was like, ‘No way, man!’ I used to have a little Tonka truck that looked just like that.” The Letos grew up poor, on food stamps in Louisiana, with a hippie single mom who encouraged them to follow their artistic dreams. Leto studied film and photography at the School of Visual Arts in Manhattan before dropping out and moving to L.A. in hopes of becoming a director. He started acting, and a few years later talked Shannon into moving out to start a band.

Next we walk through a hangarlike storage room Leto calls “the warehouse,” full of Thirty Seconds to Mars’s road cases and gear, and from there emerge onto the base’s old soundstage, which Leto has repurposed as a recording studio and rehearsal space. “We had an acoustician come by, and he said we have the same reverb as Abbey Road,” Leto says. “Isn’t that wild?” In the control room, an engineer is going over mixes from last night’s session, tweaking the vocal tracks for the band’s new single (“Walk on Water,” released in August). “I’d say we’re 80 percent done,” Leto says of the album. He smiles: “But I’ve been saying that for two years.”

Back upstairs, Leto starts to grow a bit bored. “I can show you more, but it’s really big,” he says. “It just keeps going and going and going.” He knows it’s kind of silly for a bachelor pad. “But it works for me,” he says. “I can do creative stuff here, I can live here. And I don’t have to sit in traffic.”

There’s one last oddity he wants to point out: a skylight in the middle of the floor that peers down into a small enclosure, maybe 8 feet square, with no discernible doors. It looks suspiciously like a dungeon. “Weird, right?” says Leto, grinning. He slips into a pitch-perfect impression of Buffalo Bill from The Silence of the Lambs: “Put the lotion in the basket!” he booms, cracking up. I point out that at least the skylight unlatches from the inside, leaving open the possibility of escape. “Yeah,” he says, “but you’d have to get up there first”—a sheer 10-foot climb with no holds. He smiles deviously. “Give ’em just enough hope to keep ’em alive.”

IT’S NEARING TIME for Leto to say goodbye: His next appointment is already waiting, some people from a tech giant. At the moment, Leto is looking for a buyer for his digital streaming platform, VyRT, a company he started in 2011 to live-stream his band’s concerts. That was his second foray into the tech world; previously he had launched a digital-marketing company called the Hive, and over the past decade has become a serious tech investor, backing more than 50 startups including Uber, Snapchat, Reddit, Spotify, Slack and Nest.

“He’s very different from the normal cats from Hollywood and L.A. I see playing around the Valley,” says Nest co-founder Tony Fadell, whose company Leto invested in three years before it was acquired by Google for $3.2 billion, in 2014. (Leto didn’t disclose the size of his investment, but Fadell says for “an individual, it was a significant amount of money.”) “A lot of people from that world say, ‘My manager’s gonna take care of it, my agent’s gonna take care of it’—they don’t worry about the details,” Fadell adds. “And a lot of people are meddlers or know-it-alls who want to lead from the bench. That was not his thing. Jared is very curious, very detail-oriented; he really gets involved, and he really understands. He only added value.”

“I was actually really impressed,” says Stewart Butterfield, a co-founder of Slack, which Leto invested in in 2014. “Jared gave a lot of feedback, and all of it was very practical, specific, concrete feedback about usability and improving the platform. He found the right balance,” Butterfield adds, “between persistent and irritating.”

When it comes to his investing philosophy, Leto says, “I like to learn. So if I can be involved in a company that teaches me something, I’m happy.” There are also a few deals he passed on and still kicks himself over. “Oh, my God, are you kidding?” Leto says. “There are some doozies. I can’t [talk about it]—I’ll have to call a therapist.”

All these side hustles aside, Leto’s not giving up his day job anytime soon. He’s attached to play Andy Warhol in an upcoming biopic written by Terence Winter (The Wolf of Wall Street), and he’ll soon be directing his first feature, a police thriller called 77 with a script by L.A. noir legend James Ellroy. Leto—a devoted rock climber who sometimes posts his best ascents to Instagram along with a monkey emoji—has previously directed a documentary series on America’s national parks called Great Wide Open as well as several music videos.

“Always when you are around Jared Leto, you are in Jared Leto’s theater,” Denis Villeneuve says. “It’s like a play—you become a character. But he’s having fun with it, and he brings you in his game. You just fall in love with him.”

If there’s one thing Leto hasn’t done but would like to, it’s a comedy. Sadly, no one ever asks. “I might not be at the top of the list for, like, a funny dude,” he says. “But if someone is dying or suffering greatly, I’ll get a call.” He laughs ruefully. “I got calls about [playing] Charles Manson, Ted Bundy, David Koresh and Jim Jones, all within two weeks. I’m not doing them,” he adds, “but I thought for a second, ‘Oh, my God, I should do them all.’ Just put them together like a Criterion Collection box set. And then retire.”

MLFluff Day 1 - Blush

A/N: 2k isn’t long by any sense but when you meant to do 500 words, it’s mind boggling. Still working on my process because I would like to crank out pieces instead of being 3 days behind, haha. Critics and comments are welcome and encouraged! ENJOY~~ 


Over the fierce hangover, Adrien discerns whispers and giggles but this is not abnormal when he enters the building.

Last night, the Gabriel brand had an end-of-project party to celebrate their new Miraculous fashion line. A new team of designers and marketers joined the company for the project and their work was phenomenal. They committed hours of labor that was well deserved for a celebratory break. Adrien remembers next to nothing of the affair. Which he assumes should be a bad sign, but his heart was so devastated that he refused to consider the events.

Nino Lahiffe, his best friend and stage manager for the runway, is leaning against the door frame of his office. His face looks anxious. Adrien is use to the pressure of working in the entertainment industry so a few anxious faces in the morning is nothing to sneeze over.

“Hey, Nino.” Adrien greets. He walks through the door and slumps into his chair.

“Hey! Wasn’t sure I’d see you, buddy. You didn’t answer my texts. You doing alright?”

Adrien sighs. “Nothing traumatizing. I managed to wake up only 3 hours late. I must of drank the whole bar.” He runs his hands through his hair.

"Man, I knew you were bold but, hell, I would be holed up in the Alps for a week after that show.”

“Show?” Adrien can’t recall much of the party after sitting at the bar, waiting for Marinette to arrive. “Did we have an impromptu runway walk?“

Nino laughs. “If that is new runway choreography, people will storm the doors like another French Revolution. I didn’t know you had such great moves. For a minute, I thought I turned to the other team.”

"I–What? I’m not following.”

“Dude…please tell me you remember something about last night.”

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anonymous asked:

after that ace and tiny!sabo ficlet, could you maybe do a sabo and tiny!ace one. preferably before sbo regains his memories, so hes bewildered by this tiny child clinging to him. ( i loved the tiny!sabo fic, btw. that line about ace not being hurt that Thatch liked sabo better was killer<3)

The thing about confidence, Sabo thinks bitterly, is that the only time it’s not arrogance is when you can back it up.

Well, this is what he gets for going into things blindly. The mark isn’t the dumb minion they thought he was, and Koala’s still outside.

“You may as well surrender,” Sabo says, lungs heaving but pipe steady. “We’ve got you cornered.”

The guy just looks at him. “You lie,” he says. “And it wouldn’t matter if you didn’t.”

That’s–well, worrying. “You’re right on both counts,” Sabo concedes, “but it doesn’t matter, because I’ll be more than enough.”

“I’d like to see you try,” he says, so Sabo grins and spins in close. He swings a high round, but it’s baiting, and sure enough the guy gets up a hand to redirect so he pivots off his toes, twists from the hips and slams the pipe straight down instead.

The guy’s smile turns sour and his face flashes into something else altogether. “Iron,” he hisses, and Sabo hesitates a second and falls back a step. That’s not the usual reaction he gets when his pipe touches skin.

“It’s steel, actually,” he says. Well, lies, really; he doesn’t know what the pipe is made of, only that he coated it in powdered seastone.

The look the guy gives him is cat-eyed and creepy, and Sabo adds that to iron and backpedals hard. “You’re not from the Committee at all, are you?”

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nicki786  asked:

21 and ziam please? 😌 thanks x

Hi Nicki! Hope this doesn’t disappoint you too much. I’m kind of a windbag so there’s more under the cut.


“You changed again?” Zayn asks Ruth with a chuckle and a shake of his head. “This is your brother you’re meeting, right? S’not a date?”

He plops himself on her bed and watches with an amused grin as his best friend and roommate flutters around her bedroom scrutinizing her appearance in her mirror for the hundredth time in an hour.

“Shut it, Zee!!” she replies as she hastily grabs her hairbrush and starts brushing her already perfectly styled hair. “I hardly ever get to see him.”

She puts the brush down and turns to Zayn sweeping her hands down over her frame with a question on her face. He gives her a thumbs up and watches her grab her purse and start throwing things inside.

“He’s the golden boy in our family, remember?” she says with a sigh as she finally sits on the bed next to him. “Should’ve heard mum and dad going on and on about him - how excited they are to see him and how proud they are of him and how friggin’ successful he is, blah, blah, blah!” 

“He sounds horrible, Roo,” he teases. She swats his arm and he laughs again.

“He’s not, it’s just…it’s hard to live up to someone who’s so bloody perfect,” she says exhaling loudly. “He’s actually a really great older brother. He’s always so busy. I pretty much only see him at Christmas.”

“So that’s why I’ve never met him then. Still doesn’t explain why you’re so worried about how you look, babe.”

“I know Liam, Zee. Proper grown-up that one. He always looks so smart and we’ll probably end up at some posh restaurant for dinner. Need to be prepared.” Just then there’s a knock on their door. Ruth practically leaps off the bed and once again checks herself in the mirror.

“You’re gonna be okay all by yourself? You could come, you know,” she asks him as she walks out of her room. He gets up and follows her out.

“I’m a big boy, Roo. I’ll be fine. Go have fun with your saintly brother, yeah?”

“At least come meet him before we go. It’ll probably be ages before you get another chance. Come on!” She grabs Zayn’s hand and walks him to the front door. She let’s go of his hand, takes a deep breath and opens the door.

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1D picture preference 1 : where you meet

in a small starbucks cafe in your hometown

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