#funny and handsome and rugged and manly

[hoovesandfloorpaws]

H: "I would describe him more as funny and handsome and rugged." L: :'D H: "..and bit more manly." L: "Thank you. Thank you. ... Thank you, Dangerous Dave." H: 😏 L: "Oh! :"D" H: "I'll get you for that tonight." L: 😳💭

[002yb]

Hear me out: If Dick grew a beard, Jason would FOLD. He'd be all over that man in ever single way possible. If he was malewife material before, he is going to become the "ideal" of a traditional young trophy wife when Dick has a beard. Like, without the beard, Dick toes the line of pretty boy, hes a gorgeous man but hes the type of man you would be okay with calling cute on occasion. With the beard? Thats a MAN man. He goes from approachable pretty boy to intimidatingly sexy and broody man. Everyone would fold. His old exes, his friends, his coworkers, his own family. But he's only got eyes for his Little Wing. And with the way Jason is acting? Shit, he might never go clean shaven again.

Slade compliments the beard all of once and that's all the incentive Dick needs to shave that sucker off. The echo of, 'looking good, Grayson,' ringing through his head is a provocation. In an instant Dick goes from being that manly broody man to being a petulant, deeply insulted brat.

So he shaves. The beard was too reminiscent of Deathstroke, anyway.

The problem is: Jason. Who was really into it. It's only after feeling his bare face again that Dick realizes what he's done and then there's a pit in his stomach because well, shit.

So there's Dick trying to explain what happened over text. Then a phone call. Panicked as he dodges every request for a facetime until Jason, like a night terror, is bracketing Dick's bedroom window and Dick just about drops his phone from the jump scare and bloodlust.

The way Jason storms over and gets Dick's face between his hands, squishing his cheeks and smoothing his thumbs over smooth skin and the sharp cut of Dick's jaw, scrutinizing.

It's a weird first fight to have. Funny in hindsight, but scary in the moment. Dick can own that. Jason is a lot.

(Especially during the short stint with the beard, RIP. Dick's never been jumped or climbed like a tree with such earnestness before. It was cutely sexy, or sexily cute. So was the way Jason would shiver when it scratched over his skin, a little rough and enough to break him without much more touching than that).

(Just Jason always being attracted to Dick, but this is new and rugged and wow).

'You're still so fucking handsome.' Jason would tell him, sweet even as he's pissed at the world and feeling cheated - betrayed in the most profound of ways.

Then Jason would look at him some more and whine at the loss because fuuuuuuck why? Was Jason not malewifey enough? Did he get too freaky?? ˙◠˙

And Dick comforts him because Jason is perfect, always. There's no level of freak his little wing can get to that Dick won't match lbr.

'Then why.'

Dick might actually sweat a bit, because the reasoning is admittedly a smidgen childish. So he mumbles it. And Jason tells him to clarify, so Dick grumbles a bit more audibly, 'Slade said it looked good.'

And Jason is immediately out the window again because fucking Deathstroke. Taking away Jason's newfound dream of being Dick's trophy malewife, that bastard. (ʘ言ʘ╬) To think Jason thought they were something adjacent to friends. Their camaraderie? Gone. Their banter? A thing of the past. Hell hath no fury like Jason Grayson-Todd.

Cue Dick holding his boyfriend back from taking on the Terminator. And Deathstroke shuddering from a whole continent away because he's got a sixth sense that he's provoked something dangerous.

When he checks his phone later, he's got a text from Jason claiming, 'this is all your fault,' followed by the scariest picture of Jason snarling at him while holding Dick's bare face in the background. Whoops.

Extra: The compliment was genuine.

Extra extra: Dick's only able to appease Jason's need for retribution through carnage by manhandling Jason around and reminding him the beard's got nothing to do with why Jason sticks around. Ie. Dick fucks him 'til he can't walk without his knees giving out beneath him. (˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ ) ✧

[still-the-1-d]

Harry quotes poll

Louis quotes poll

[michpat6]

wip wednesday

its wednesday and I believe in link being called 'pretty' and 'beautiful' supremacy

“Can I get my white horse, please?” Link asks the man at the Dueling Peaks Stable counter. 

The man shuffles some of his papers and double checks, “Horse Two, you mean?”

Next to him, feeding Horse an apple, Zelda giggles. 

“Yes,” Link sighs. “Horse Two, please. And do you mind dressing her with my royal set?” 

The man at the counter glances between him and Zelda with a pleased, knowing sort of smile. “Of course. Horse Two will be right out for your lady friend, dressed to impress her.”

“I-I’m not-” he splutters, and before he can properly explain himself the man has left the counter to explain the prices of the beds to a Hylian traveler. 

“I think it’s funny,” Zelda says when he joins her in stroking Horse’s mane. 

“What, my naming conventions for my horses?”

“No, that everyone you talk to seems to think that we’re in some kind of romantic relationship.”

Link chokes on his tongue. 

“It doesn’t bother me, I’m flattered that they all think I’m pretty or whatever else they say, but why do you think they think that?”

Because I’m awful at hiding my feelings for you, I have no idea how you don’t know, and I think you wanted to kiss me, too, before you lost your memories, so-

“I traveled alone my entire quest,” he says. “And then suddenly you’re here, by my side, beautiful and around my age. It makes sense why everyone thinks-”

“You think I’m beautiful?” Zelda’s voice softens, her expression open and adorably surprised. She stares at him like his feedback on her appearance is the only one she cares for.

Link so desperately wishes he had the ability to go back in time a minute just so he can kick his own ass. He swallows and sincerely tells her, “I do. I…I think you’re very beautiful, Zelda.”

She smiles. “Thank you, Link. And for what it’s worth, I think you’re very beautiful, too.”

Warmth in the shape of a Silent Princess blooms in his chest. He’s been complimented for his looks plenty of times, been called ‘handsome’ and ‘manly’ and ‘rugged’, but those don’t hold the same staggering impact that a Gerudo calling him ‘pretty’ in his vai outfit did, those don’t blanket him in a sense of rightness that Zelda telling him he’s beautiful does right now. 

His face burning, he manages a quick, “Thanks.”

[scruffina]

(skinner rant incoming) okay so,

in “bart the murderer” (8f03; s3e4), the tv movie blood on the blackboard: the bart simpson story starring tv’s doogie howser, neil patrick harris.

they cast richard chamberlain as skinner.

richard. chamberlain.

take a gander at this guy!!

and a little bit older:

holy handsome white guy batman!!

the other thing is, chamberlain came out as gay in 2003. but rumours of his sexuality had circulated in tabloids for decades prior (which is obviously trash - it's not revolutionary to say but tabloids and paparazzi shouldn't exist!).

i think it's reasonable to assume the writers would select this kind of genteel, dignified, yet past his prime, and - unknowingly, then - gay actor for skinner to say something about his character. because hours upon hours of rewrites went into classic simpsons scripts, trying to get the maximum funny out of even the quickest tv-announcer gags, like this one.

we know the simpsons writers consider skinner bisexual ("SSS'sBS" s5e19 commentary). and we know he is almost excessively well-mannered and self-controlled, a result of agnes' interpretation of 'parenting' (i.e. strict and oddly insular as a most generous read, outright abuse at worst) and his military service. he is incredibly repressed, and yet in the small sphere of things in which he feels comfortable exerting control, he can be capable. or he can be petty, angry, nervous, fumbling, cowering, courageous...he can have complex reactions to situations that affect his school and the town (see: the scene where he faces mr. burns in "WSMB? p.1", which is one of my all-time favourites). so i think the casting alludes to him having these hidden sides, as would a man who was closeted in hollywood for over forty years. (obviously, there could have been a real danger to skinner being outed in the nineties or at any earlier time, especially during his service.)

this choice also means the writers canonically interpret skinner as hot.

[[(I don't think this is a stretch coloured by my own attraction to chamberlain, who gained notoriety as a heartthrob in the sixties and had this kind of sophisticated, rugged thing goin' on in the 70s-90s.)

(i also would like to note to me he doesn't look like skinner, exactly. he's too 'all-american popular boy' as a young man for the mousey, sheltered square skinner would be. and he's a little too sweet and relaxed-looking in his forties/fifties. skinner's features i imagine are heavier and more pinched, less symmetrical; his face shape less square; his smile nowhere near as natural. chamberlain, though beautiful, is a little too floaty/wispy slash outdoorsy/manly-looking for skinner: it's a wonderful contrast, but too far in either direction.)

(also not to be crazy but we kinda already knew he was intended to be hot given the way they drew young skinner in the valentine's da nang 1969 flashback in "i love lisa".)]]

why, right?

the reason i favour is that when a character doesn't known they're attractive, they must have

a) poor/warped self-image;

b) have been sheltered, especially from beauty standards and formative social interactions;

c) be generally oblivious/clueless/struggle socially;

d) have some aversion to interacting with the groups they might be attracted to, and/or the groups that might be attracted to them (i.e. avoid seeking potential partners).

(though this of course isn't a list of requisites, nor an exhaustive one.)

skinner fits all these. there's also the question of neurodivergency here - skinner potentially being autistic is something i half-accept as someone who is questioning myself (there's a great post about this out there). it's canon that he suffers ptsd, though naturally it's unclear to an outsider exactly how that affects his thought process. without really needing to get into either of these considerations, or his dynamic with agnes (that is a freakin' dissertation for another time), since you can probably extrapolate for yourself, you can see why he might disallow himself from forming/pursuing an attraction to anybody, or receiving that kind of attention. it could be partially out of fear of his mother.

or he could just be uncomfortable: though we see a not-quite-complete characterization of skinner fall hard for patty in "principal charming" (s2e14), that relationship is very limited physically and more about shared bitterness, wasted time, and companionship. patty isn't fawning over him at all (not that he expects her to) because, as we later learn, she's gay (i also always liked the read that she's asexual too). he takes a big, romantic, hopeful, emotional swing in that episode, but he's still understanding through their breakup. he's humble, self-effacing: patty's the catch to him, she didn't miss out on much. (plus he lets bart walk all over him since he's so enamoured of her.) (plus he shouts his love from a clock tower and sobs on the school steps and uses phrases like "be still my foolish heart" - it was a real romance to him, but he treats it in such a dramatic fashion as to suggest he's unaccustomed to judging what romance - what a real, adult relationship - really is.)

but it adds another layer to him to think, 'he might be one of the most desirable middle-aged men (or men, period, i can't think of any 'in-universe hot' younger men) in springfield if only everyone weren't almost instantly fed up with how excessively straight-laced and boring he is - and also with his co-dependence on his mother.' his hotness does not override his status as a social outcast.

all of this to basically have no real conclusion! just super interesting to me that they chose this very handsome, and coincidentally gay, actor for a real-life skinner in the throwaway tv movie episode coda. and there's so much work one can do to parse skinner's character - work i want to do, slowly, but am honestly not sure i'm up for. this was just one tiny observation that spiralled into a post it took me hours to finally be satisfied with.

no matter though! enjoy richard chamberlain, there's many more photos of him in looks i love that i might post. he seems like a quite wonderful guy.

[jalboyhenthusiast]

He’s caring, he treats him really well🥲

😭 i would describe him more as funny and handsome and rugged 😭 more manly 😭 you’re on a whole new level of charmer 😭 of course he’s hot 😭 he smashed it 😭 the city of love 😭

[straynstay]

Jeongin - Hybrid AU!

Happy Birthday, Innie ♡

you rolled on the bed trying to go back to sleep when your alarm went off for the third time 

but your eyes quickly opened when you remembered what day is today

today is February 8th, Jeongin’s 19th birthday

the day you both were waiting for since you were just toddlers running around the backyard

Jeongin was finally a grown up and could leave the house after years of ruthless waiting

you got up tripping over your own legs and ran downstairs

“wake up, wake up, wake uuup!” you bursted into his room and threw yourself on his back

“whaaaat” Jeongin complained burying his face in the pillow, but you wouldn’t let him sleep again

“get up, we have so much to do, c’mon!” you shook his body lightly

“no” he replied and waved his tail under the light blanket covering his body

“Jeongiiiin” you whined, but he didn’t seem to change his mind

you blew the soft white hair on the inside of his fluffy ear, making it twitch

“stop” he said laughing, so you blew it again

“get up, birthday boy, we’ve been waiting for this day for too long” you hugged his body

“oh yeah, it’s today” Jeongin turned around carefully, trying not to let you fall, and placed his hands on your hips to keep you close

“happy birthday” you smiled finally seeing his sleepy face

“thanks, but your breath smells”

“shut up” you rolled your eyes

“you shut up” he said mimicking you

“c’mon, get up” you gave two quick taps on his chest and got ready to push yourself up when he suddenly rolled you to his side instead, placing the light blanket on both of you

“five more minutes, I need to get 9 hours of sleep and you woke me up before that” Jeongin complained curling his body a bit and wrapping his tail softly on your leg

you smiled seeing him closing his eyes and falling asleep immediately

you were amazed to notice how much he grew before your eyes and become this handsome man

he had always been cute, but now his baby features were slowly disappearing to show a strong manly face with piercing eyes

Jeongin’s good looks have been knocking you off of your feet lately

not to mention his adorable smile and bright personality that could make even your worst days better in an instant

Jeongin is such an important part of your life ever since you were born that you don’t even know how it is to live without him

his mom, a rare Fennec fox hybrid like him, was pregnant and got rescued nineteen years ago by your mother

Fennec hybrids were being hunted because of their soft fur, a relic for rich people to use as coat, hat, scarf or even as a rug

Jeongin’s mom was able to run away, but his father was captured

she was in terrible conditions when your mom accidentally found her on the way home

they quickly became friends because your mom was also expecting, so they easily bonded over their pregnancies

although you were born first, Jeongin grew up faster than you

when you were learning how to walk, he was already running on the backyard

but the differences between you were more than just physical 

Jeongin’s mom never stoop foot outside the house again, and forbade Jeongin to the same

you, a human, could go out and have fun, study, see everything the world had to offer, but the small Fennec hybrid no

but this was never an impediment for your friendship

you would always pick up flowers, rocks, bugs or whatever you could find that you’d think Jeongin would like to see 

Jeongin was always happy with your small gifts, but your heart would break everyday watching him wave timidly from behind the curtains of your room when you walked to school

you wanted to take him with you, you wanted to show him around

make him smell the flowers without having to pluck them out

see the bugs making their way across the grass

play on your school’s playground…

you wanted him to live like you!

so when you were six years old, you began bothering his mom to let him go out

and you kept bothering until his 8th birthday, when she said he could go out on his 19th birthday since he would become a legal adult by then

and so you both waited impatiently for eleven years to go by

it seems too much, but now that you are facing him asleep it felt like it was just last week that you were both scared and screaming when you lost your first tooth

you chuckled a little remembering his crying face telling you he’d make porridge for you everyday if you somehow became toothless overnight

oh, those were amazing days, but now you’ll finally be able to show Jeongin the world

his alarm went off and he quickly opened his eyes, feeling more rested than before

“ready to begin your day?” you asked

“ready” he smiled brightly

-♡-

you were probably more excited than Jeongin, to be honest

you got everything set, including your camera to capture the whole journey, and went out in your mom’s car to show him as many places as possible

the only thing Jeongin’s mom asked was for you both to come back before sunset because she was still scared of the dark outside, and you obviously couldn’t say no

if today went fine, maybe going out could become something normal for him

as for today, Jeongin tried looking like a regular young man, hiding his fluffy ears with a red beret and tucking his tail on his jeans

he was probably uncomfortable, but it’s better to be safe than sorry

“alright, fasten your seatbelt and let’s go”

“how do I do it?” Jeongin looked at you and you remembered this is also his first time inside a car

he’s seen several movies, he knows how to use technology and whatnots, but knowing what a car is and experiencing being inside one are two things completely different, so you helped him out

“like this” you hovered over his body pulling the seatbelt to lock it in place

“this is tight… what is it for?”

“to prevent major injuries if any accident happens” you replied moving the car

“wow, it’s moving!” Jeongin widened his eyes and grabbed the seat near his thighs

“yeah, this is what cars do” you laughed a little at his innocence to the outside world

“they also do this” you said hitting the gas and speeding up fast

“AAAAAAAAAAAAH” Jeongin screamed grabbing the seat tighter “I DONT WANNA BE HERE, LET ME OUT, LET ME OUT”

you were laughing like crazy while slowing down

“this is gonna be so funny, oh gosh…”

“I hate cars” Jeongin pouted with tears filling his eyes

“I’m sorry, Innie, I had to mess with you” you placed your hand on his knee 

Jeongin was grateful that his tail was hidden so you wouldn’t see it twitch because of your sudden touch

“you’re never doing this again, right?”

“right” you nodded holding the wheel with both hands “we’re already on our first spot”

“really?” Jeongin looked outside while you parked the car

you had no idea what was going on inside his head seeing so many different things at once

but you were glad you’re the one making this memory with him

and you hoped he’d enjoy his day

-♡-

“so?” you inquired seeing him trying milkshake

you were carrying the bags of his recent shopping because you wanted him free to explore downtown

you lived in a small town, there wasn ‘t too much to see there, but you both had already explored a lot of shops and hung out at the park, which Jeongin loved

and you were happy to see him being so carefree and excited for the first time in his life

“it’s really thick, but it’s tasty” he licked his lips sipping more and more nonstop

it was too late when you tried to warn him

“aaaaaaaaaaah” he said closing his eyes tightly and holding his head with his free hand

“your first brain freeze, congrats” you laughed at his pained expression and snapped a pic

“this is terrible, but is also good, I can’t explain”

“this pretty much sums up everything in the world” you joked

“where are we going next?” he asked

“here” you pointed to the bookstore and Jeongin gasped

“this is where you buy me all those mangas?”

“yeah, and there’s many more of them inside, c’mon” you opened the door greeting the person behind the counter

you saw Jeongin gasping again and saw his eyes wide open staring at the shelves

you took another picture of him, trying to capture as much of these precious moments as possible

“go ahead, you can check them out” he turned to you as if asking ‘for real?!’

you just laughed giving his shoulder a small push

“go on”

“this is heaven” you heard Jeongin whispering and it made you smile

-♡-

“alright, where’s our next stop?” Jeongin asked carrying the heavy bags from the bookstore

“since we spent too much time here, we have to go to our final destination” you said “it’s almost curfew time”

“I’m sorry”

“for what?” you turned your head to see him

“for staying too long at the bookstore when you had other places to show me”

“it’s okay, Innie, you could’ve spent the entire day there and I wouldn’t have minded” you smiled

“really?”

“yeah, I want you to feel good about going out, I want your first experience to be unforgettable, but also pleasing, so if you’re happy checking out mangas for hours, I’m cool with it”

“now, let’s get the car and head to our final destination” you clapped your hands and walked with him to where you had parked

you put his bags on the trunk and by the time you entered the car, Jeongin was already with his seatbelt on

“fast learner, huh?” you joked starting the engine then moving

“watch out, I might steal the car someday” he joked too

“go ahead, it’s gonna be easy to catch you”

“why?” he looked at you

“because you wouldn’t drive like this to get away”

“like this how?” Jeongin questioned and you only gave him a grin

before he could yell “NO!”, you were already hitting the gas again and making him screech on his seat

-♡-

“alright, we’re here” you said pulling over at your middle school

“thank God, I need to get out of this evil machine” Jeongin’s hands were shaking even though you were driving like a responsible person now

“let me help you” you chuckled seeing him struggle with the seatbelt

he opened the door and left quickly

“is this…?” you heard him asking and you got off too

“yeah, I wanted to show you where I used to come to everyday when we were young”

“it’s a big school” Jeongin looked around

“yeah, and it was a nice one too” you sighed “you know that I wanted to bring you here with me everytime, right?”

“yeah, I know” he replied almost in a whisper

suddenly the air felt tight and you fought your tears away

so many memories you could’ve made with Jeongin here

only if he was able to live a normal life

you never blamed his mom for protecting her son

but you blamed the ones hunting down rare hybrids that destroyed Jeongin’s family

although you know that under normal circumstances you’d probably never meet each other

but now that’s something you can’t even imagine

he’s such a huge part of your life that every single day you’re even more sure that you don’t want to live without him anymore

how are you suppose to be an adult with life responsibilities and still share a huge part of your days with Jeongin?

you are one year away from getting your associate degree at the community college and just a little glimpse of an adult life has been already dragging you down

you got home so tired sometimes you couldn’t even give Jeongin proper attention like before

although he didn’t mind you being busy as long as he could stay with you in your room either being your nap buddy or just watching you study

not much had changed from your school days, to be honest

you would still do your own stuff while Jeongin laid on your bed reading, listening to music, or just observing you

sometimes he would help you get ready for your finals, making some flashcards to help you memorize difficult subjects or quizzing you

and you were used to this routine

you were used to coming home and being inquired about your day

and you loved this

you loved being with Jeongin

and you don’t know how life’s gonna be now that he’s an adult and you’re even more closer to getting a full-time job like your mom

and you know how’s your mom’s schedule, she’s barely home

that’s why you’re afraid

you’re afraid of being too absent

you’re afraid of being forgotten

you’re afraid of losing him

“hey, I know these” Jeongin called your attention to the flower bed near the school’s entrance

“I have no idea how they’re still growing, I used to pluck them daily” you smiled faintly seeing the small flowers you used to give him

those were easier days

Jeongin picked up one and his fond smile made your heart beat fast

“I have a box full of them” it was the first time you were hearing this 

“they’re dry now, but I kept all the ones you gave me” his smile was so big and so bright you couldn’t hold back your tears anymore

Jeongin saw you crying and didn’t say a word

he just hugged you tightly and let you hold on to him until you were feeling better

Jeongin knew you better than yourself most of the times

and words would never be able to express how much he means to you and how thankful you are for him staying by your side

you only let him go when you noticed it was almost dark

“c’mon, let’s go home before we get in trouble” you said sniffing and rubbing your eyes

“can I drive now?” he asked

“ha ha, nice try”

-♡-

the drive home was peaceful and silent

you were able to get home just in time before the night fell, but Jeongin’s mom was pacing back and forth in the living room waiting for you

Jeongin got inside quickly when you said you’d unload the car

“... and then we went to the ice cream shop and I had milkshake, which was nice but also weird because it was too cold and…” Jeongin was already on the couch with his mom blabbing on about his day

you smiled placing the bags down

you went to the kitchen to get a glass of water and also to give him time with his mom to share everything he saw

you really hoped he’d be able to go out again, even if it took a while

you went to your bedroom afterwards, still hearing his excited narrative to his mom

you picked up some new clothes, showered, then uploaded the pics from your camera to the computer

so many photos of Jeongin with different expressions in so many different places

today will be remembered as a good memory, at least to you

“hey, I brought his birthday cake” your mom startled you a bit

she was still in her work outfit, so you guessed she had just arrived

“hey, how was work?” you asked

“same old same” she shrugged “how was your day out with Jeongin?”

“it was nice, I guess”

“he can’t stop talking about it, I’ve never seen him so talkative before” your mom laughed a bit

“I’m glad he’s happy about it” you smiled briefly

“what’s concerning you?” she questioned entering the room and closing the door

you can never hide yourself from your mom, so you don’t even try

“the future” you answered honestly

“whose future?”

“mine… and Jeongin’s”

“in what way?”

you sighed before replying, trying your best to keep your tears away

“I’m gonna graduate soon, and I’ve seen some job offers in another town, but I don’t wanna leave him behind” you choked. “I can’t leave him behind” you shook your head

your mom hugged you caressing your hair

“Jeongin is an adult now, he can take care of himself”

“but I don’t wanna be without him” you sobbed

“ah, I see…” your mom held you closer “then you’ll have to talk to him and figure out what he wants in life”

“what’s in life for a rare hybrid that has to live hidden so he doesn’t get killed?”

“being a pet companion” you scoffed at your mom’s answer

“Jeongin deserves better than staying at home waiting for an owner”

“he should be the judge of that, don’t you think?” her words hit you hard

yes, you want what’s best for him, but you can’t decide his future for him

he’s not a child anymore and it scares you

you grew up pretty much attached to the hip with him

you were inseparable kids, but now you’re both adults

and there’s no way your friendship is going to remain the same as before once life starts to weight its responsibilities on your shoulders

your mom held your chin and made you face her

“today is his birthday, and you gave him the best present he could ever dream of: your time” 

you were sure she would say ‘taking him out’

this was unexpected

“but I always give him my time” you were confused

“and there’s nothing more he wants from you. Jeongin loves being with you, so even if you’re worried now, I’m certain everything will turn out fine” your mom smiled

“now go wash your face so we can eat some cake, hm?”

you nodded and she left your room

-♡-

you tried your best to push all your concerns away and enjoy the last hours of his birthday

Jeongin was radiant

he couldn’t stop smiling and this is the happiest you’ve seen him so far

and you wish you could bottle up this moment to live it over and over again

Jeongin did deserve the best this world could offer him

and you promised yourself you’d support whatever choice he makes in his future

after singing Happy Birthday To You, eating tons of cake while making a happy dance, and showing everyone all the things he bought, Jeongin was finally showering to call it a day

you helped his mom clean everything up and then you headed to the backyard to lay on the hammock

you looked up at the sky to admire the meekly starry night

you sighed deeply moving the hammock in a slow swing

so many good memories come to your mind when you think of your childhood with him

will you be able to also make good memories now that you’ve grown up?

you really hope so

“here you are” you snapped your head towards the sound and saw Jeongin on the archway of the backdoor

you couldn’t help smile seeing him laying down next to you

you were both silent for a couple of minutes before he started talking

“thanks for taking me out today” he smiled

“wish we could’ve done this earlier, though”

“yeah, mom said the same when we were talking after I came back” Jeongin said

“so this means you’ll be able to go out again someday?” you beamed, almost getting up in excitement

“yeah” he nodded

“where do you wanna go next? we can try visiting the beach during summer break! I can ask mom to lend me the car again, we can have a short weekend somewhere not too far from here just in case, or if you wanna go crazy we can cross states and have a full week trip!”

“anywhere you wanna take me is fine” Jeongin simply replied “to be honest, I never thought that I would see the world one day”

“we just strolled around town, there’s so much more to see!” you chuckled

“I know, I see the world map on your wall everyday. But... can I tell you something?” he lowered his voice

“hm?”

“even though I went to a lot of places and saw different things today, there’s nothing like this” 

you furrowed your eyebrows not quite understanding what he’s saying

Jeongin sighed and looked away to the stars above

“what I’m trying to say is that there’s no other place on earth I’d rather be than here with you” his hand slowly found yours between your bodies and he held it firmly

“you’re my home” Jeongin turned his head to stare deeply into your eyes 

“and I love being home” he squeezed your hand as if scared that you’d leave him for good someday

as if he knew you wouldn’t stay too long here with him stuck in such a small town

your eyes were suddenly blurry and a lump formed in your throat

you scooted closer and laid your head on his chest, listening to his fast heartbeat

Jeongin wrapped his tail over your leg, his warm body being enough to protect you from the night breeze

and you realised that no matter where life leads you, you will always come back home

[harryisntstraight]

Remember that French interview in 2012 with Harry and Louis omg they were BEST friends wow

the paris interview 😭😭😭 ‘i would describe him more as funny and.. handsome and rugged......bit more manly’ 

[j4ya]

... I would describe him more as... funny and handsome and rugged... a bit more manly...

NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

[gospacegay]

Dreams and Possibilities

So... This thing started out as a rusame short and grew like crazy! There is swearing. Get over it. There is mentions of suicide but It’s a very fluffy piece otherwise. Kinda smutty. Enjoy the alternate universe cuteness!

----------------------------------------------------------------

The argument during the world meeting had spiraled out of control so fast. Alfred had something, or possibly lack of things that were wrong. Then Russia was on his case, completely angry beyond reason. Totally surprised, the always armed American whipped out a pistol. That was when Ivan took out his pistol, whispering “Nothing but broken promises.” Shocking everyone, he shot himself through the mouth. He then fell to the ground, limp and dead.

Alfred ran over but he knew it was far too late. The angle of the bullet was just too good. It ripped out so much brain matter on the way out, the guy would be retarded as all hell when he inevitably recovered. The living nations were not invulnerable, after all. “He killed himself because of me.” the freckled blond grieved, Ivan's blood still staining the carpet. “I thought you'd be happy, boy.” England replied coldly, having the nerve to kick the corpse on the floor of the meeting room. Everyone gasped at his rude behavior.

“Why would I be happy a defining part of my culture is dead?” America hissed, training the gun on his terrible father figure. “It's just Russia, lad. No need to do anything regrettable...” the English man begged, backing up from the lifeless body. “He taught me how to skate, and ice fish, and sail a boat, and cook pies. He visited me all the time when I was a lonely colony. He was a better role model than you. He knew how to make love, not rut like a sick goat. He was mine.” Alfred spat, advancing with the gun safety off. “But you said, but he just...” The emerald eyed Brit sputtered, crumpling as he was shot between the eyes.

Despair and loss shredded his rational mind. His long time crush and former nemesis had killed himself. Alfred had been so sure they could be friends again. It was nothing like being lovers, but it was better than total deprivation. Then Ivan killed himself. This was all Alfred's fault. The arguments, the bloody cold war, the bombs, the deaths of children in gulags... it was all indirectly Alfred's fault. He always had to be so stubborn and proud. A world without Russia was meaningless, no one to rival Alfred's light with shadow. There was only one solution now.

Not waiting to be stopped, Alfred put the gun to his own temple. Pulling the trigger, everything faded painfully to black. Death was a funny thing. Before this point, dying had been like falling asleep painfully. This death was different. For one thing, it hurt way less on the way out. He had never seen anyone after the fact. Even recovering and waking up, there had been no one there. He was always alone forever.

Yet Alfred was wearing white, in a bright white room, with Tony seated beside him. The short red eyed alien just stared at him. It was hard to tell if he was disappointed due to lack of eyebrows or notable mouth. “Hey cool space buddy. I haven't seen you since the 90's.” Alfred greeted. “So you had to fucking kill yourself. I stop paying attention for two decades and you fuckin' kill yourself.” Tony cursed, clearly not impressed. “You, don't understand... he killed himself because of me, and... I thought... were...” Alfred attempted to explain with watery eyes, the event still overwhelming. “The Russian dumb shit killed himself too.” Tony summarized sourly between Alfred manly not-sobs. Giving the distraught nation a pat on the back. “Don't worry about it idiot. Your space buddy will fix this. Don't fuck it up.”

“What?” Alfred squeaked, confused and distressed.

---------------------------------------------------------------

Alfred sat up sharply in bed, heart racing. He instinctively reached for a reading lamp he couldn't recall owning. God, what a horrible dream. There was guns... and some kind of court room... and Russia died? The details were falling apart the more he recalled them. Everything felt super surreal right now.

He was Alfred Foster Jones. But that wasn't accurate either. His mind kept pronouncing Alfret, then a very unfamiliar jumble. It was just the fog from waking up, confusing him. It was time to get dressed quietly and make breakfast. He didn't want to wake people so soon. What people was he edging around again? Stretching his arms a little, an elbow bumped one of said people.

It was a big sleeping somebody all cuddled under warm morning blanket. The covered up somebody was taking up slightly over half the bed, sharing the blanket Alfred was trapped in. The freckled blond was terrified to look under. The physical urge to squeeze and tickle the half asleep bundle was stronger, and Alfred had always been impulsive. He gave the mystery person a big morning hug. Hearing a happy sigh, the nation was pulled back under all the blanket. Alfred nearly had a heart attack.

It was Ivan, sleep tousled in sleeping pants. He had been shot, he had been dead in the memory. He killed himself because of Alfred. Maybe it was a dream. It had to be, otherwise life was even more terrible than ever. With trembling hands, Alfred grabbed the Russian’s face and peppered it with kisses. That big nose, that brow, that sexy jawline, nothing was missed.

He was stopped mid neck. “Dearest, calm down. It's a Sunday.” Ivan grumbled in Russian, draping an arm over Alfred to pin him lazily. “I can't help it. I saw you kill yourself, and I don't know if it was a dream or real. Maybe it was a prophecy, it was so bad.” Alfred rambled, scared. Ivan freed the tanned blond's hair from it's scrunchy prison. Alfred eventually calmed, allowing his surprisingly long hair to be disentangled. He had never had it long at all, yet it had been long for over a century. The conflicting memories were both right.

“I suppose this nightmare had England in it.” Ivan soothed sleepily, now the bigger spoon and holding Alfred close. “It did, I shot him in the face. But it didn't make you alive again.” the younger nation admitted. “When I killed England for mistreating you, I promised you he was dead. I made absolutely sure of it sunshine. I even crushed the bones into dust and put the dust in a jar.” Ivan promised casually, clearly having made this oath before. Alfred remembered such a thing. It had been a first year anniversary gift along with a nice boat ride.

“It just felt real.” the younger nation whispered, still uncertain of reality. Ivan kissed that last shred of doubt away, snuggling slightly closer. “My god, how can you be so handsome and rugged at the same time?” Alfred flirted blatantly. Ivan blushed the slightest shade of pink, giving Alfred a squeeze. “I'll dress the kids if you make breakfast.” the ash blond volunteered, clearly not fond of cooking.

Alfred seemed both reviled and joyful over having to cook. An angrier short haired version of himself wanted to tell Ivan to shove a frying up his arse. His kinder souled self was faster, answering “Of course. I was thinking fluffy western omelets.” The additional statement of children, as in more that one was a bonus. He had always wanted a son, or a daughter. He would even be fine with anything in the middle.

He forgot about words when Ivan dragged his lazy ass out of bed. The Russian was fit, like underwear model fit. He could probably punch a hole through concrete or scare physics into letting him walk to the moon. Alfred drooled, raking into those sexy back muscles with his eyes. Then Ivan dumped an ugly university sweater over a carved body of god's finest marble. A low whine came from the freckled blonde. Ivan swiveled to look, just noticing. “What?” he asked, adjusting the drawstrings on his hooded sweater. “It's a Sunday. We should have crazy sex.” Alfred ordered more than asked.

God could Ivan blush when he had the tan of a snow man. “They're down the hall! They'll hear everything!” he whispered hoarsely. “I'll be good and quiet, We can do anything!” Alfred tempted, already tugging at the sweater impatiently. Ivan looked at the door, then Alfred. Like any other sex deprived overworked parent, the Russian jumped at the opportunity.

Alfred was face first getting ground into the mattress, a moaning mess. “This... was.... good idea.” Ivan panted, thrusting deep like a wild man. “More! Don't stop for anything.” Alfred ordered lowly, a bruising grip on his hips. The rhythmic fucking was amazing but Alfred had already come. It was all about Ivan now, for he always took a while to push over the edge. The ash blonde was easily the more sexually frustrated of the couple because he couldn't get out a quick orgasm in the shower.

Ivan's breath hitched as his pace turned erratic and rough. Finally he gasped, thrust deep inside, and came loudly. “Oh fuck, oh, your my angel.” he uttered, both men turning into a pile of blissful nudity. Not even a second later, there was knocking on the door. “Mama, Papa. Are you practicing fighting bears again?” a small boy asked. “No.” Alfred lied sheepishly, blushing as well. Still inside Alfred, Ivan stammered “I'll be right down. Go brush your teeth with your sister.” “Okay Papa.” the boy cheerfully obeyed, heard skipping away.

Ivan was quick to shower and leave, making Alfred suspicious. After languishing in the heat of the bed a few more minutes, he felt his used hole. There was a pearl of cum on his finger. That bastard never put his condom on. If Ivan made him pregnant again, he was getting shot. The last child had been ten long months without coffee, chocolate, or rum. Alfred damn near lost his mind. Between all the former British colonies giving him bad medical advice and Ivan treating him like glass, it was a miracle no one was murdered.

After spermicide type products strong enough to kill, Alfred washed, and cleaned some more. Not a single Russian swimmer was getting anywhere near his uterus this time. Hastily dressing, Alfred stomped downstairs while loading his pistol. Ivan was hiding behind his daughter, Alaska, at the kitchen table. “Annika, my little darling, lay flat so I can get a clear shot at your father's throat.” Alfred asked sweetly. Obeying, the platinum blonde batted sky blue eyes at him while climbing off the chair. It was normal for her not to talk much, despite having the appearance of an 11 year old.

“Don't kill Papa! He didn't build the pool yet!” Oregon protested with a mouth full of cereal. Ivan looked at his son with a disapproving frown. “You tried to make me pregnant again you sneaky rat!” Alfred hissed, the pistol only a foot away from Ivan's handsome face. “Just one more child, maybe it'll be Moscow!” Ivan cheered, having been at gunpoint over this before.

“I will not live without coffee or chocolate for nine months. I need them.” the freckled blonde threatened, slowly holstering his weapon. After a sigh, he kissed Ivan on the nose and began cooking. “New plan babies. Mama's gonna make you chocolate chip pancakes. Papa was bad, so he's getting one plain pancake with no toppings.” Alfred announced. The children were quick to turn on their father. He put on a pout, replying “Now I will starve!” Alaska was back in her chair, leaning in to whisper “I'll feed you some of mine, Papa. I love you more than Nikolai does.” The younger Oregon, appearing seven years old by human standards, snorted. “You want the pool too.” he muttered. Such loving children.

As breakfast progressed, Alfred sipped his coffee while watching his babies eat. “So, what are you all doing today?” he asked. “Papa said we're gonna play with Catalonia while he's working. Spain's house is huge, Mama. Catalonia has an air hockey table!” Oregon explained excitedly, making a mess of his breakfast. “Work on a Sunday?” Alfred asked with a pout.

Ivan shrugged, then rubbed his temples. “A very big problem has not been solved.” he said flatly, not keen on going himself. “I'll come. Maybe I can help, motherly wisdom and all.” the freckled blonde replied. With a tired smile, the paler nation nodded in silent agreement. The adult topic of politics was never discussed in front of their precious young states.

After breakfast clean up, Alfred combed and braided his hair into one large rope. Putting on his best Russomerican colored Hello Kitty sweater, the braid was made to match with a navy blue ribbon. He took the time to admire the silly shirt. A white eagle with red wing feathers was on Hello Kitty's clothes, while all 136 stars of the Russomerican flag were displayed in layered rings. The rings were centered around the cute kitten's silly dance. The sweater was a birthday gift from the Japanese Empire, a good friend of the couple and old wartime ally.

Once the children were picked up by Spain, Alfred and Ivan departed. The drive was not very long, since it was hosted not far from their Washington home. Since the Russomerican Republic was so huge and powerful, most nations had regular places to stay for the monthly meetings. They would never dare complain how far Washington was from their actual homes.

------------------------------------------------------------

Alfred was already not impressed as soon at the couple arrived at the meeting building. “What?” Ivan asked, knowing every look of his partner. “This is a dump.” the tanned nation muttered. “No, its cheap and efficient.” Ivan countered stubbornly. It was a dump, an old brick building with a lazy government sign at the front. Not a single flower bed or wall mural spiced the place up. They could have easily taken a wrong turn and ended up at a mortuary.

The inside was just as bad, with whitewash walls and scratched up wooden floors. The long meeting table was dimly lit, due to one light being burnt out. “How much time until people arrive, dear?” Alfred asked, running a finger over the table. It came back thick with dust. “Twenty minutes, maybe.” Ivan answered absently, pouring over papers in his briefcase.

Accepting the impossible challenge, Alfred tackled the dinghy meeting room. After changing the dead light bulb, The table had a soft white cloth cover. Snacks and potted flowers were stolen from another meeting in progress down the hall. Alfred longed to dust and mop the large space, but nations were already beginning to show up early. Resigned to living in dusty filth, the north American dropped next to his husband. Ivan was still brooding over a peace treaty proposal for Syria and Turkey, putting a grouchy expression on.

“If you frown too long, your face will get stuck.” Alfred teased, edging his chair closer. He gave a few kisses, nothing graphic. It was enough to make Ivan's cold mood melt to a dopey expression. An unfamiliar chuckle was heard as a stranger approached. Alfred tensed until he recognized the long wavy locks and flirtatious blue eyes. The nation was an old one, suspected to be Alfred's illegitimate father by most. They shared too many physical qualities for it to be a coincidence.

“France, long time!” Alfred greeted with traditional kisses on each cheek. Welcomes aside, the french man looked over Alfred's currently strong but trim figure. “You look great. I haven't seen you in years.” the man complimented, his pronunciations butchering the Russian language. “You still strangle my language like a boa, dear Francis. You always look so good in your suits as well.” Alfred replied in kind. Ivan glanced up at the overtly friendly chatter, jealously threatening “Alfred is mine.”

“Of course, sunshine, and you are mine.” Alfred finished the possessive sentiment with a smile. “Forever.” Ivan whispered lovingly, losing his dark edge again. France grinned and took several pictures with his phone. Several others were arriving, sitting at the table. France bid Alfred farewell with a kiss on the hand, then took his seat at the far end of the table. The second the last nation sat his bottom to a chair, the low chatter began.

“Thank you for coming to this... emergency meeting...” Ivan faltered despite his loud introduction, completely unheard. Alfred analyzed the seating arrangements quickly, years of raising tempestuous young honing his instincts. Ivan was about to start again, when he was hushed by kisses. Alfred then stood, and whistled so sharply it made the whole room twist to look at the source. Without a word, he forcibly picked up each guest and shuffled the entire table.

The result was a mildly confused group of nations that had nothing to say. Several nations murmured while snacking on the stolen plates of cookies. Admittedly, Alfred had been overly sheltered in his colony days, only picking up Russian and English. A happy brunet nation directly addressed Alfred. “We are wondering who you are.” the cute nation said in decent Russian, heavy Italian accent coloring each vowel.

Relieved to understand, the freckled blonde replied “I'm Russomerica, or part of it.” “I don't understand. He's supposed to be Russomerica.” another Slavic nation protested, gesturing to Ivan. Flashing the simple wedding band on his right hand, Alfred silently answered the question. “He's my beloved. We share the responsibility of monitoring all 136 states and territories.” Ivan added seriously.

“Think of little brother as Russ, and his wife as Merica.” Ukraine said, loving to dote on Ivan in public and make him squirm. Alfred personally didn't care if he was called a wife, for he did many wifely things. A few chuckled at the joke, and the meeting finally began. Due to the odd new seating arrangements, no one felt comfortable enough to talk over Ivan.

Still, others eyed the docile Alfred fearfully. A few were unlucky to know Alfred as the bloody Valkyrie of Russomerica, always alongside Ivan in battle. He was no stranger to war and death. Alfred had only lost a few battles since the Russomerican Republic had initially formed. That was almost three hundred years ago.

After watching Syria and Turkey bicker with Ivan over border reassignments, Alfred felt tense. Being so close to his husband, the freckled blonde could almost feel Ivan's internal anger as it built. “Accept these new terms or we will enforce them. Everyone is tired of your petty war.” Alfred ordered. Both warring nations looked at him dubiously with his Hello Kitty sweater and adorable blonde braid. Syria laughed mockingly, having to adjust her partial hijab. Turkey smirked, asking “Does your whore wife speak for you now?”

Instinctively, Alfred rose in anger. “Take that back.” he growled, glaring holes in the man. “I would take that back unless you want to die.” Ivan warned lightly. The fool laughed at Alfred, laughed. Upset, the freckled blonde slammed his face into the table hard. “I'm loyal and cute, and I look good in sweaters. You don't know anything about me!” Alfred roared, slamming Turkey's face two more times. Letting the nation go, Alfred retreated to his husband's side. A consoling arm was draped around his shoulders.

Syria paled, quickly signing the peace treaty and returning to her chair. Spitting out several broken teeth, the bloodied Turkey grudgingly added his own signature. “I'm not a whore.” Alfred whispered softly, upset. “Of course you aren't darling. You're perfect.” Ivan assured with a chaste kiss. With that little war out of the way, there was still a lot of time left. A few constructive dialogues managed to play out. Global relations seemed improved by the end, with several trades proposed between the forty nations attending.

The meeting ended, with a few stragglers the last to leave. Alfred could hear a conversation in rapid fire English down the hall as he cleaned up. “Wales, you can't. You were my ride home!” a young voice whined. “I don't care. I can barely afford to attend as it is.” an older male voice dismissed. “But, I need you!” the younger appealed, no avail. There was a slamming of doors, then stifled crying. Unable to ignore a child in distress, Alfred peeked into the hall. A boy, almost a teenager was slumped against the wall.

Clearing his throat, Alfred attempted conversation in English. Due to not using it everyday, it was quite rusty. “Hello child. Why you cry?” he asked kindly, Russian accent thick. “Oh, oh, Mr. Russomerica. I'll leave now. I didn't mean to be so upset.” the boy answered quickly, fiercely wiping tears with his ragged looking shirt. The child was too thin for Alfred's liking, arms like twigs. “Nyet, you come with me.” the taller nation insisted.

“Um, that's nice. But I still need to find a way to get home. I live really far away.” the child noted. Alfred ignored this, scooping the child off the ground. He was a light little thing, almost too light. “You see, I'm Sealand. I'm the best little country ever, but it's really hard.” the boy prattled on. “Child of England, da?” Alfred asked, seeing the same sandy blonde hair as his own abusive mother. Sealand shrugged, shivering and snuggling into Alfred's fluffy sweater. “I don't know. I've always been alone.”

“I alone too, once. Was very unhappy, until I meet Russia. Ivan, good man, best comrade. We will talk with him.” Alfred conversed awkwardly, wishing the child knew Russian. A minute later, Ivan returned to the meeting room. Coats in hand, he clearly wasn't expecting a rail thin child clinging to Alfred's leg as it ate cookies.

“Honey, no.” Ivan refused prematurely in Russian. “But, he's stranded here, and he's so cute and little. Can I please take him as a state?” Alfred begged. “He's a principality at best, off the shore of Wales. Wales. It's too far away.” Ivan reasoned. “He is so skinny and sad. You said our navy didn't have enough influence there.” Alfred argued back. Ivan rolled his eyes, retorting “He doesn't even speak Russian. He's just another mouth to feed.” “Hey. You keep trying to get me pregnant every chance you have. I though you would want another state.” Alfred bristled verbally, still mad about the early morning sex.

“I suppose he would be a suitable navy base. Ask him then.” Ivan sighed, giving up. “Sealand, you hungry and poor, da?” Alfred asked in clumsy English. “Maybe. What's it to you?” the boy stammered defensively. “I wish keeping you for my own. Little son.” Alfred said proudly, realizing after just how fucking creepy he was being. Ivan was right after all.

Sealand was being surprisingly positive about all this. “Like you're the mom and he's the dad?” he asked, pointing at Ivan across the room. Alfred nodded, explaining “Da, but many rules. Must learn Russian like other little ones.”

“You can't get bored of me and return me to the sea. And you can't beat me or tell me I'm worthless. And... you can't touch me... down there.” Sealand grew more quiet at he continued, shielding his groin fearfully from sight. Poor child of the sea, what trials and tribulation had he already faced? Likely many since he was English offspring. The late nation had a habit of abandoning his children in fields, or in this case, at sea. “Nyet, malchik. I love my children. Fight for them, da.” Alfred assured, offering another stolen cookie. After eating the treat ravenously, the boy smiled. “Okay. I'll be your kid. I've never had parents before.” he replied casually.

Alfred crowed with joy, twirling the child around. “I Mama, or Alfret Arturovich Braginski. He your Papa, or Ivan Zimavich Braginski.” he instructed, letting Sealand down. “I'm Peter Lawrence Kirkland.” the boy introduced. Alfred pinched the sandy blonde sharply, correcting him “Nyet. You are son, Peter Arturovich Braginski.” “Ow! Fine I'm Peter art pants Braginski.” he grumbled, rubbing his sore cheek. And so the family grew a little larger.

---------------------------------------------------------------

A few years passed by, and the strange white dream never returned. Peter quickly learned Russian, becoming one of the family. Meanwhile Sealand's actual infrastructure was repaired and improved. The former principality with a population of four was transformed. It was now a notable Russomerican navy base, with twenty people living there full time to maintain machinery. Oregon was pleased to have a big brother he could play games with. Even Ivan tentatively bonded with Peter, taking him fishing and taking time to help with homework. The boy would never be blood, but he was just as close.

After making Alfred heavily pregnant, Ivan managed to avoid getting beat to death in the hospital. Still, California was a cute little baby. She had her mother's deep tan and freckles. It took a year, but the baby aged enough to sleep normally. After a month of being horrible to everyone, Alaska realized she wouldn't be ignored forever. A few trips to the mall later, the girl's head seemed screwed on straight. Alfred's crazy life finally started calming down.

That was until he woke up one night, discovering himself propped up and thoroughly mounted. Ivan was thrusting in frenzied fashion, panting hard. Enjoying the motions, Alfred could feel his own sticky excitement spilled beneath him. Suddenly Ivan pushed deeply and came with a cry. Hot release filled Alfred's hungry insides, his ass forcefully tilted so none could escape. Riding out the bliss, something came to mind in the groggy nation's head. If the cum wasn't going out, it could only go his... no.

“You worthless bastard! Get out of me! I don't want to be pregnant again!” Alfred growled angrily, bucking and trying to roll. “Oh just... oh, a minute.” Ivan whimpered, his still hard cock giving a mighty throb inside that stuffed passage. Oh hell no, he was still pumping seed inside. It wasn't much, but even one little swimmer was enough to ruin the rest of the year. Resisting, Alfred rocked violently and clenched his anus for all it was worth. He only succeeded in fucking thick seed deeper into himself.

Crying hot tears, Alfred felt the cock swell slightly. “I thought you loved me. I thought you respected me. All you want to do is use me.” the mounted nation wept in frustration. Ivan paused, panting as he rode out the last shots of cum. Alfred could feel every bit of it, his insides swelled with the stuff.

“That's not true. I care for you more than anything else. I love you so much I need to touch you constantly. You fixed my heart, and you're raising four perfect states. You're eyes, your hair, your cheerful optimism. Everything about you is so perfect. It makes me want to make you so full of our children, make the world a better place. We could save the world, with our happy perfect children. We'd love everyone of them.” Ivan gasped between thrusts, clearly starting another round.

The love behind every word was palpable. Heart fluttering, Alfred asked timidly “Do you really mean that? You don't think I look hideous when I'm pregnant?” Ivan started roughly fucking the filled anus, making Alfred melt into a puddle. “I want you more pregnant. I want so many children we need a van.” he ground out, hips rutting rhythmically. Alfred's body rocked in sync, so completely in love. Ivan did love him, even as a whale bloated with unborn young. Ivan loved him in his grouchy day pajamas and wild hair. He even loved Alfred during his Japanese cartoon obsession phase. To give another child didn't seem like a high cost if this cosmic love was the prize.

Six. The agreed limit was six children including Peter. Until the limit was reached, Alfred gladly let himself be filled and stretched. After rigorous secret midnight sex, he agreed to butt plugs that would keep every seed inside. Eerily enough, seed from that first night vanished before the plug was removed. There was absolutely no doubt he would be pregnant. Even so, Ivan wanted to keep up the act until the womb had completely sealed. Taking vacation time, the couple visited Saint Petersburg. Visiting was a loose term, since they were locked together in lovemaking usually. That few days turned into a week. Alfred was so delirious from all the mind blowing sex, he didn't much care what the excuse was.

They only stopped so Alfred could clean out over a week for his doctor's visit. The poor children were probably tired of hearing them “practise fighting bears” at unusual hours as well. Alfred had a very special doctor, one that had helped him through all the other pregnancies and troubles. There was so few doctors trained to deal with nations in the world. Admittedly Alfred only shared the talented physician's existence with former British colonies. Lord knew there was enough of them. If the European union got hold of the man, Alfred would never get medical care again.

Sitting in the stark waiting room, Alfred felt confident everything would be fine. With Alaska, Alfred had discovered he was pregnant while drunk off his ass at a New Years party. The girl turned out alright, if quite nonverbal. Oregon's pregnancy had been a nightmare of nutritionists and nurses. He didn't eat a single drop of anything tasty for ten painful months. It basically ruined child rearing forever. California had been okay to birth, but Alfred dodged food specialists like they were assassins.

“Braginski?” A nurse called out from an open door. The couple stood, escorted to a small office. The doctor was an ageing human, followed by a woman in a lab coat. “Doctor Varkins. A pleasure as always.” Ivan greeted warmly, for the doctor was one of the few he trusted. He eyed the young protege acting as the old human's shadow. “Why is she here?” Alfred asked, holding himself and clenching his legs closed.

“Relax, this is my replacement in training. Her name's Tiffany, or doctor Kinley.” the older man introduced. “But I just got you. Annika just shed her last baby tooth. What if she needs braces?” Alfred protested. “It's been forty years. I have a family of my own, and I want to enjoy my golden years.” the doctor explained patiently. Alfred nodded uncomfortably, sorely reminded of human fragility. It had taken Alaska forty five years to physically age to preteens. Oregon grew slightly faster, taking fifteen years to reach his current state. California would likely grew at the same rate, representing a warm state.

“Tell me about your kids, they looked cute.” the younger doctor said kindly, her Russian carrying a distant Irish tinge. Alfred nervously glanced at Ivan while Doctor Varkins checked his vitals. With a nod, the pale ash blonde put a comforting hand on his husband's leg. “Well Annika, she's my little snow princess. Then there's Peter. I adopted him. He's my little sailor. Nikolai is second youngest. He wants to be a farmer when he grows up. California is just a babe, but I knew she'll do great things.” Alfred rambled, proud of his offspring.

“California... like the state?” the woman asked dubiously. “Well, for now. We can't seemed to agree on a first name. Ivan wants Katyusha, but I want Nadia. It's fine. We have five more months before she figures out things beyond pooping and sleeping.” Alfred explained casually. “I told you. Nations. States. All that.” the older doctor mentioned while listening to Alfred's insides with a stethoscope.

“Well your vitals are good, why visit so soon?” doctor Varkins asked curiously. Blushing, Alfred revealed the good news. “Well, we're trying again for another little one. I wanted to make sure things were alright. And Ivan needs a check up. He keeps coughing.”

Ivan looked shocked that he had been tricked into the doctor's office. When he tried to flee, Alfred's steel strength kept him trapped by the arm. The stubborn Russ was inhumanly strong, but his husband had always been able to match him. “I'm fine. I don't need help.” Ivan hissed stubbornly. His heart beat, blood pressure and other lesser things were measured and noted.

“Well there's your problem.” Dr. Varkins said confidently, pulling out a series of stock market charts. The dips in Ivan's health were still too closely linked to the price of oil. “You need to diversify your exports, so you stop getting these coughs. And you haven't been eating enough vegetables.” The ancient nation pouted as he was scolded like a child. Alfred grinned, with a pleased 'I told you so' attitude.

“Does this mean these folks are Russomerica?” the trainee asked. “He's the Russo, and I'm the Merica. But yes, we are Russomerica.” Alfred patiently explained, remembering when Dr, Varkins first freaked out over this. “Oh wow! I worked with Ireland, but I never though I'd meet my own nation.” the girl gushed. Alfred shied away from the attention, nervous around humans that could recognize and extort him. Playing nervously with a braid, Alfred's fidgeting was stilled by Ivan's arms. “He's shy, you can't be so direct with him.” Varkins corrected, approaching Alfred slowly. “Do you need anything else checked?” he asked courteously. Alfred shook his head, unnerved by how the younger doctor stared at him intently. They fled the office soon after.

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Officially two months pregnant, Alfred was feeling exhausted on the living room couch. Ivan and Alaska were enthralled in a show about big game hunters. Sealand and Oregon were on the floor, designing amphibious cars. Baby California was finally sleeping upstairs after wailing like a siren for an hour. Lazily dragging a couch quilt over his tired form, Alfred could afford to close his eyes for a second.

The dream was vivid and white. It was a white room with white tile and white benches. It was all so white and painfully familiar. Three gunshots, and one wrist cutting. Suddenly Alfred could recall being red haired, having killed himself in a bath tub by cutting his wrists. Blonde and shooting himself in the temple many times. Long haired and jumping to his death. It all felt frighteningly real. A short grey figure entered the room, using some sort of hologram device ripped right out of a movie.

Knowing and not knowing, Alfred had five confusing memories over lapping of this creature. It was safe, it was his space buddy, his confidant. Excited, he scooped the short figure up and swung it around the room. Despite never having met this creature, Alfred felt relieved to be reunited with it. It squabbled at him in a language he couldn't comprehend, until it was sharply changed to Russian.

“-ing Christ. What language is this time line in anyway?” the grey man cursed. “Who are you?” Alfred asked, refusing to let go. “You understand now?” the grey figure asked, resisting being cuddled. “Yes, little space buddy.” Alfred confirmed, the affection slipping out of him. “God fucking christ, you're going to ooze sugar if you keep this up. So, how's my favourite US of A?” the grey man asked, giving up on escaping Alfred's hugs and snuggles.

“I don't understand. Who is yuss of ah?” Alfred wondered, head cocked. Browsing alien symbols on his device, the short figure shook his head. “Wow, okay. Forget whatever I said. This line is damn confusing. What happened after 1776?” he asked bluntly. Absently petting the bald bulbous head of his friend, Alfred felt a name spring to mind.

“Well Tony, I was my own country of Americana. But it was really hard. England kept blockading my ports to starve me. Spain kept pressuring me. Ivan was courting me at the time, and became really mad. He fought off England so I could focus on Spain. After a while Ivan proposed to become a republic with me. Oh, it was so romantic. You should have seen the roses and the moonlight. I couldn't say no to that charmer. We've been married as the Russomerican Republic since 1889.” Alfred explained warmly.

“Was just checking. Normally I leave you idiots alone twenty years and you both end up killing yourselves. My boss wasn't happy about that.” Tony replied, still browsing his miniature projector. “Oh cute. Congrats on the twins. Fuck you have a lot of children. Breed like goddamn rabbits in this time line don't you?” he continued, browsing pictures of things that looked unfamiliar.

“Twins?” Alfred asked, confused. “Those things in you right now. Yeah. Fraternal twins.” Tony explained. “Why we would kill ourselves? I love Ivan too much to kill myself.” the freckled blonde protested, nothing cleared up at all. “Don't worry about it. I'm just happy that you're happy. Oh and by the way... The twins are Moscow and Washington, so Ivan can stop riding you like a used dirt bike.” Tony informed dryly.

“What?” the blonde sputtered, surprised.

----------------------------------------------

Alfred woke sharply, aware he was holding a napping Oregon and not a grey alien man. Ivan too had passed out on the opposing couch, the wildlife show still playing. Alaska and Sealand were long gone, but that was normal. The older states were becoming teenagers and highly independent. Looking fondly at his husband, five gruesome memories flashed by.

Ivan, throat cut and bleeding onto the cushions. More memories, his head with a variety of gun shot wounds. Another, his eyes lolled back in death, mouth foaming from poison overdose. Panic gripping Alfred's heart, the snoozing Oregon was nearly dropped on the floor. The anxious nation scampered over Ivan's still form. Checking for a pulse, he went giddy with relief when one was found. Clinging to the splayed man, Alfred kissed that pale skin, licked it, cried with joy to touch it. Ivan wasn't dead. Thank God Ivan wasn't dead. Sealand and Alaska strolled in on the odd scene, both eating three ice cream bars at the same time.

“Sex on the couch? Really?” Alaska snorted derisively. “Your papa isn't dead. I touched him. He's alive.” Alfred whispered loudly, still sobbing as he squeezed Ivan's rib cage. The older nation woke with a cough, surprised. “What?” he gasped, lacking air to make real volume. “Mama's losing her marbles.” Peter replied, in no rush to rescue his adoptive father. Finally taking a breath, Ivan forced himself to sit up. After Ivan rubbed Alfred's back and fed him the rest of the ice cream bars, the grieving nation calmed down.

“It's the hormones, Alik. Nothing bad happened to me, and nothing will.” Ivan promised, wiping a mess of melted ice cream off Alfred as he sniffled. “It felt real, and there was a white room. I died, you died. It was terrifying, Vanya.” the upset nation whimpered, clinging to his muscular husband. “It was just a dream.” the ash blonde soothed with a kiss.

Alaska and Sealand were gone again, probably off to play video games. Oregon was still sleeping like a rock on the couch. In the rare moment privacy, Alfred relaxed and sagged into the soft touches. “Marrying you was the best decision of my life. I can't even imagine the madness the world would suffer if we hadn't.” he murmured, lacing Ivan's collar bone with gentle kisses. Ivan returned the kisses with one of his own, reducing both of them to lovesick lumps on the furniture.

It was true. Alfred was so lucky fate hadn't dealt him a worse hand. He would continue to cherish his blessed life, and his happy family. No matter what war or ecological disaster befell him, Alfred would always be thankful for true love.

[healthnotion]

How to Wear a Denim Jacket

It took Levi Strauss a decade after creating the world’s first blue jeans to realize that the material that worked so well to clothe a man’s lower half, also worked brilliantly to outfit his upper half as well.

The modern man needn’t take so long to make that leap.

Denim not only makes for some of the best-looking and easy-wearin’ pants, it also makes for a handsome and rugged jacket.

140 years after first outfitting men who worked on railroads and ranches, the jean jacket continues to serve as functional, low maintenance outerwear; its durable material provides decent protection to one’s arms and torso, doesn’t wrinkle, takes a beating, and lasts for the long haul. Light in weight, it’s a great jacket for those just-a-bit-chilly days that mark the seasons of spring and fall.

With a collar and a structure that typically tapers to the waist, the denim jacket also creates a more masculine silhouette and adds to the visual appeal that arises from layering in ways that faintly echo a sports jacket, but with an entirely different vibe — casual, rebellious, oppositional-to-the-suits. Thrown over a t-shirt, it instantly adds a lot more interest to an otherwise basic get-up.

Given these assets in function and form, why are guys often hesitant to make what is really a rather simple staple of menswear part of their wardrobe?

The fact that the denim jacket is associated with miners, cowboys, truck drivers, and rockers adds to its iconoclastic appeal, but at the same time, guys may worry that its tough and cool legacy might not sit comfortably on their shoulders; they don’t want to look like a wannabe or have the jacket come off as “costumey.” They also don’t want to look like a hipster who’s trying too hard to channel the ethos of blue collar workwear. Or maybe a fella just associates the jacket with the 1980s and wonders if they’re still in style.

Well, the good news is that these hang-ups needn’t be an issue: a denim jacket can suit a man whether or not he swings a hammer or slays a guitar, can be adopted in a way that’s both natural and sharp, and when worn well, will always be, no matter the decade, perennially in style.

Choosing a Denim Jacket

No matter the era, the denim jacket remains a sweet sartorial staple.

If you’d like to add a denim jacket to your closet, choosing one comes down to thinking about two main qualities: fit and color.

Fit. As with all garments, fit is king with the jean jacket. You don’t want the jacket to either be too baggy, nor too tight. A well-fitted jacket should exhibit the following qualities:

Fits over the thickest top you plan to wear it with.

Can be buttoned up without tightness or pulling when worn over a t-shirt (denim jackets are not commonly buttoned up, but can be; if you do button up, still leave at least the top and bottom buttons undone).

Fabric hangs down in straight planes.

Bottom hem hits at about the hips; the denim jacket is a shorter jacket, and the bottom hem shouldn’t extend much past your beltline, with about the middle of your fly/upper thigh being the longest it should fall. However, the jacket shouldn’t be too short either; if it creeps up to your waistline and above, it will look too cropped, and begin to approach a more feminine style of jean jacket. 

Ends of sleeves hit a little past the bends of the wrists, but don’t extend past the creases of the thumbs.

You’re able to cross and swing your arms comfortably; if you find denim fabric feels too constricting (this can be the case with darker and raw denim; lighter washes will typically be pretty soft), look for a jacket made with a bit of stretchy material added to the cotton fabric.

Color. While denim jackets are available in a variety of colors these days, blue is the most classic and versatile. Of blue jackets, their “formality” ranges along with the washes of their denim. All jean jackets are inherently very casual, but one made with a dark wash denim will be slightly “dressier,” while one with a light wash denim will be the very most casual. A medium wash sits right in the middle and is arguably your best pick — it’s versatile, classic-looking, and soft. 

What to Wear With a Denim Jacket

Denim jackets aren’t versatile in the way sports jackets are — unlike the latter, they can’t be dressed up or down to meet the requirements of just about every dress code. While some very fashion-forward sartorialists will put a jean jacket over a dress shirt and tie (and even a waistcoat), the contrast between the more formal underlayer and the very casual outerwear is too jarring to make for a good look.

Denim jackets are versatile, however, in that they pair well with most every other garment that resides in the casual category of your wardrobe. These pairings can still be more or less ideal, however, and we’ll delineate that spectrum below.

On Bottom

The one rule you’ve probably heard about wearing a jean jacket is to never do “double denim”; that is, you shouldn’t wear a denim jacket on top of denim jeans. The result of this pairing is what’s called the “Canadian tuxedo,” named after an incident in the 1950s, when Bing Crosby was banned from a swanky Canadian hotel for wearing an all-denim get-up, and the Levi’s company responded by making him an entirely denim tuxedo to rock. 

The reason that “double denim” is considered a faux pas is that when your denim jacket and jeans are too matchy-matchy, it looks like you’re wearing a weird pseudo suit. But avoiding this combo isn’t a hard and fast rule. While it’s more difficult to pull off well, you can wear a denim jacket with jeans, as long as you make sure there’s a good amount of contrast between the two pieces. That is, instead of wearing a medium wash jacket with medium wash jeans, you wear a darker jacket with lighter jeans, or vice versa. You can also wear jeans in a color other than blue — black or charcoal can look good with a denim jacket.

And you know what, if you’re a little daring, you can even break the rule entirely and wear a jacket and jeans that are close in color. I do! I just like my so-called Canadian tuxedo, and don’t care if it’s “wrong.” I guess that’s the rebel in me, eh?

If you’re not sure if you can pull off double denim, or just don’t like the look of it yourself, it’s best to just heed the proscription against it. Below are common and safe guidelines for how to clothe your lower half while wearing a denim jacket, with options ranked from less to more ideal:

Poor:

Dress trousers (too much high low/contrast)

Jeans that closely match the color of your jacket

Alright:

Jeans in a color that contrasts with the jacket

Joggers

Best:

Chinos/khakis (in brown, tan, olive, gray, etc.)

Corduroys 

As far as your footwear goes, think casual: canvas/leather/suede sneakers, leather boots, chukkas, etc. 

On Top

When it comes to what to wear under your denim jacket, a single layer is often all you need; while additional layers can be interesting, you don’t want to or need to add much bulk under a denim jacket. A thin base layer will let the jacket hang comfortably, and without constriction. Jean jackets just lend themselves to a more simple, “spare” look too.

Below we break down your underlayer choices from unadvisable to can’t-miss:

Poor:

Button-up dress shirts (too formal)

Technical-fabric workout shirts (too casual, even for a denim jacket, with a shiny texture that doesn’t complement the jacket’s matte ruggedness)

Chambray button-downs (while chambray is technically a different fabric from denim, it looks close enough to it to make this another iteration of “double denim”)

Alright:

Sweaters (some thin and very casual sweaters can work, but many can look funny under a jean jacket)

Polos (an okay pairing, but the preppy nature of the shirt clashes a bit with the jacket’s more rough-n-ready vibe)

Button-down shirts (in a very casual workplace, a jean jacket can serve as almost a kind of sports jacket substitute when worn over a button-down; a checkered print is a nice look here)

Best:

T-shirts (of all kinds, but the plain white tee is an especially classic choice)

Long- or short-sleeve henleys

Hoodies (evinces a more “urban” look)

Flannel/plaid shirts

As you mix your bottom and top layers with your denim jacket, you can prevent your get-up from looking too “costumey” by avoiding pairing too many things from one “archetype.” For example, if you wear a flannel shirt under your jacket, don’t also wear leather work boots and a beanie. Or don’t wear a white tee under your jacket, along with black jeans, and black work boots, unless you’re a biker, or intentionally going for that look. Just let the jean jacket be a natural accompaniment to the other casual clothes you already wear.

A denim jacket makes a great addition to a man’s casual wardrobe — there’s a good chance that deep down you want one, so get one. And then start wearing the heck out of it. It only looks and feels better with age. Clothing is only as authentic as the real use you get out of it.

The post How to Wear a Denim Jacket appeared first on The Art of Manliness.

How to Wear a Denim Jacket published first on https://mensproblem.tumblr.com

[lordzuuko]

PJO AU question! (I'm very excited XD) What are the Gods reactions to finding out that Keith and Shiro are together? Also, do you think some of them made bets about when they'd get together?

Oh my god lmao I love this There’s another ask, Camp Version but I’ll answer the Gods Version first because this would be funny and this came first.

Voltron PJO AU: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5 

The gods were having their luncheon (let’s pretend they actually do that) at Mouth Olympus. They were all gathered around the big golden table and Hephaestus TV was on. It was the gods’ entertainment, they get to see how their children are doing and they get to witness some dramas between the gods and the demigods.

Camp Half Blood was on, it showed that scene wherein the son of Ares had the son of Hades pinned down with his sword. 

“Oho! That’s my boy, Dan!” Cheered Ares as he drank wine. He looked around the table, “Mother’s from the marines. Pretty—”

“You were not supposed to injure your opponent, demigod.” Shiro on the TV said, catching everyone’s attention back.

Zeus smirked. 

Ares snorted, the same time his son on TV snorted. Like father like son. They witnessed Keith turning the tables and sneering at Dan. “You piece of shit.”

“Ohohohoho!” the other gods cheered. “Hades’ boy really knows how to get shit done.” Hermes barked out his laughter. 

Hades just shrugged proudly as he drank wine. “My boy is resilient.” Zeus could see how Hades was smiling a little when he saw his son immobilize the son of Ares. 

TV Keith spat out blood and walked out.

“Now that was just a very cool exit,” hummed Apollo. “Why can’t my kids be badass like your kids, Hades?” 

TV Shiro grabbed Keith’s arm but failed miserably to stop him. The gods continue to watch until they see Shiro sit beside Keith under the tree and they held hands.

“Oh, what is this?” Aphrodite perked up. She giggled. “Do I sense love in the air?” She wiggled her eyebrows at Zeus. “Your son has got good taste, doesn’t he, Zeus?”

“Now that you’ve mentioned it, Hades’ son is quite handsome. Like he’s so rugged yet handsome. Totally manly basing from what he did a while ago, too.” Apollo commented. “I’d totally—”

“Don’t finish that sentence, Apollo,” Hades interrupted to which the sun god just chuckled.

“I agree with Apollo though,” Athena joined. “They would be quite a pair. Two most powerful demigods? Together? Zeus and Hades’ offsprings at that?” She hummed in pleasure. 

“Definitely interesting! They could literally destroy the world!” Aphrodite rejoiced. “Imagine if they broke up.”

“No one is breaking up,” Zeus sighed. “Besides, they’re not even together yet.”

“Obviously, ‘cause your son is a wimp.” Hades muttered.

“Did you just call my son a wimp?” Zeus raised his eyebrow, bending a little forward to look at his brother. “Are you telling me he can’t muster up every ounce of confidence and confess his undying love for your boy?”

“Ah, so you do acknowledge he’s in love with my boy.” Hades smirked.

“Why of course. Everyone can see it. Can you?”

Hades just hummed. “I saw it the first time they met actually.”

“Oh my gods! Yes!” Aphrodite exclaimed. “It was the cutest puppy love! I was wondering when they will actually admit it.”

“Alright, alright. Bring it all in.” Hermes said. “Let’s start a betting pool. Let’s all see when one of them finally admits to the other, eh?”

“We are not placing bets on my son,” Zeus interrupted. “If he wants to take it slow, then he will take it slow.”

“You’re just scared you’ll lose, Dad,” Apollo giggled. “C’mon! Have a little faith in my lil brother, will ya? He’s got Zeus genes!” 

“I’m betting it will be Hades’ boy who will snap and just kiss him just to get shit done,” Hermes chuckled, placing his bet. “Give or take in a month.”

Hades gasped, scandalized. “My son has more tact than that!”

“This will be fun,” Aphrodite grinned as she looked at the TV and Shiro and Keith were napping under the tree.

[maidenoftheforestlight-blog]

This is interesting as its true that the story of Beauty and the Beast is often looked at as Belle’s story when really it is (as the name implies) a story about two people… Even, perhaps, more about the Beast’s growth as character than Belle’s (he is the one with the redemption arc while she starts the story as a fairytale ‘good person’, uncomplicated, and ends the story as a fairytale 'good person’). As such, yes, the transformation back into a handsome prince is just the Beast’s reward for becoming a better person… However, as @kateofthecanals said, our past actions don’t just go away when we become a better person and the redemptive message is actually more poignant if the Beast still has to live with some of the consequences of his past behaviour but is loved despite them (the message of seeing beneath the surface on Belle’s end also becomes more poignant). In the specific case of this joke, I’d say that the joke isn’t anything to do with the handsome prince being Belle’s reward, or the Beast’s reward or anyone’s… It’s a joke about female desire and how many (usually male but not always) writers tend to get it completely wrong about what women, in general, find attractive about men in general (no diss to men, from what I understand, women also tend to bark up the wrong tree about what men find attractive in women). For example, I always felt disappointed by the Beast’s transformation as a young girl, not that I found the Beast in anyway physically attractive before… But the princely version was just somehow even less appealing. When I got older and rewatched the movie, at the point when the Beast transforms, I always used to go, “but why can’t he be a bit more 'manly’ and 'rugged’ instead of turning into a pretty boy?” At this point, in my teens, I realised that my idea of what was attractive in the opposite sex was quite different to what Hollywood thought my idea of what was attractive in the opposite sex was. And I realised, talking to other girls of my age group, that I wasn’t alone. There are definitely young girls that like the “pretty boy” type… But I wouldn’t say they’re the majority, especially not past the age of about 14… So this comic is funny to me for that reason!

[harryisntstraight]

The most embarrassing thing is the Paris interview...you could die for secondhand embarrassment just looking at them

i cant beliebe louis said w his own mouth that ‘of course’ harry was hot. and that harry called louis ‘funny and handsomely rugged. a bit more manly.’ and that look they shared after it was literally disgusting like jesus christ lads calm it down