*digs a hole and hides in it*

— off limits | 01 (m)

pairing— kim seokjin x reader
genre/warnings— smut, dirty talk, dom! Jin, just dirty, dirty sex that my heart can’t take
words— 11,158

:: summary— you’ve been lusting after your brother’s best friend for a while now, ever since you met him at a house party, flirting it up a storm as you failed to realise who the other was. That was months ago now and things are still awkward, but you can’t ignore the sexual tension that’s simmers between the two of you…and it keeps getting worse…

» 01 :: 02 :: 03 :: 04 :: 05 :: 06 ::

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After All This Time

Summary: Sharing a sleeping bag with Shawn because Mother Nature isn’t too friendly.

A/N: This took me so long to finish for some odd reason, but it’s super cute. Feedback would be amazinggg:)

(not my gif)

Originally posted by infiniteforests

It was so cold. The kind of cold where no amount of layers could help and the more you thought about it, the more you could feel the goosebumps that covered every inch of your body, but there was nothing else that you could do. Clothes clung to you from head to toe and the fire out in the pit was long gone, leaving you in the dark.

Sure, you could have turned on a lantern, but Shawn was right next to you, thanks to Brian’s sneaky matchmaking skills, and waking him up seemed like a crime in your eyes.

You didn’t have the slightest idea of how he was able to even sleep, but you weren’t complaining. The awkward tension that would have filled the air if he was awake was enough to make you want to dig yourself a hole to hide in. His body laying right next to yours was already making you jittery enough.

The last time you had seen him like this was underneath the make shift fort that the both of you had built in the middle of your living room, but that was in fifth grade. He was still sporting braces and that stupid haircut that all the boys had at the time. You didn’t know what was going through your little eleven year old’s mind, but here you were, in the same position several years later.

But the braces were long gone and the hair was now left alone in curls, effortlessly resembling something like a goddamn Disney prince, but the feelings you had remained the same. It always had and you definitely don’t see it changing anytime soon when he looks like that now. He had gotten taller and it was obvious that his time at the gym had been paying off well with his broad shoulders and thick arms. He looked so different, yet still the same.

It didn’t matter how many blind dates Megan had tried to set you up on or how many people you saw from time to time that could have been something that never was. You couldn’t bare to give it a shot because Shawn was always your first and you didn’t even know if your feelings went both ways. It was pitiful really.

Your eyes eventually started to feel heavier and you could feel yourself finally becoming drowsy until you felt a nudge on your leg. Figuring it was just Shawn moving around in his sleep again, you ignored it, but then you felt it once more. It was more direct, making your eyes snap back open.

Immediately, you could distinguish the warm brown of Shawn’s eyes looking around, scanning the surroundings.

“Hey,” he had whispered while reaching over to turn on the lantern above your head, filling the tent with a yellow glow. “Are you cold?” Concern was laced into his voice.

“N-no,” you said too quickly for it to be true. What kind of person wouldn’t be freezing?

He repositioned himself so his head was on top of his elbow, giving you a smug smile. “Are you sure? Because I’ve been feeling you shivering all night.”

There was a short pause. “Okay…maybe a little.”

Shawn’s smile never left his face as he licked his lips, making your head go crazy. If the next three nights were going to be like this, you didn’t know how you were going to keep yourself under control and it was all Brian’s fault. He was probably feeling content with himself, putting you and Shawn in the same tent, and you just wanted to murder him in his sleep for it.

You were too distracted to even notice that Shawn had undone the zipper of your sleeping bag until you felt your body become colder. “W-what are you doing?” you seethed, rubbing your arms. Instead of replying, Shawn un-zipped his as well and scooted back to put more room between you guys.

He then invitingly lifted the top cover before saying, “C’mere.”

“What?” The shock had slapped you across the face. That was the last thing you thought he was going to say.

“Come share my sleeping bag with me. I don’t want you getting sick,” Shawn said with worried eyes. You were about to open your mouth to say some kind of lame excuse, but you couldn’t bring yourself to say the words. You really did want to and he seemed to feel the same way. Well, you hoped at least.

So here you were: slipping into the same sleeping bag as your best friend while trying not to make a fool out of yourself.

The warmth that seemed to radiate off of him immediately enveloped you, causing a hum of content to come out of your lips as you closed your eyes. You heard the closing of the zipper, encasing the both of you, and the little chuckle that came out of the insanely cute boy next to you, and that’s when it clicked.

The space between you and Shawn was barely even there. Not even a sheet of paper could slide its way in between you two. You didn’t know how you had even managed to fit in with his huge body, but that was the last thing on your mind.

All you really focused on was the sound of the wind hitting the tent, but you weren’t freezing cold anymore and it felt better than you thought it would, making you smile as you opened your eyes.

Shawn was already looking at you, his face emotionless. A twinge of panic flared up inside of you and you couldn’t help but feel like a burden the longer you laid there next to him, but then you felt it.

His hand was slowly making its way up your body, squeezing your waist, until it appeared above the blanket, stopping at your neck. He gently cupped it, running his thumb along your jaw. The both of you didn’t tear your eyes away from each other, even when you had started to lean in, but stopped right before your lips could touch. The both of you were starting to breathe more heavily.

You moved your own hand as well, mimicking his movements, but you kept going so your fingers snaked through his hair. It was softer than you had imagined, making your lips part just a smidge in delight as you felt him pull you closer to him as if being squished inside a sleeping bag wasn’t enough.

“Your heart is beating really fast,” he whispered.

“And I wonder whose fault that is,” you smiled, greatly surprised with your sudden kick of courage in your veins as you leaned in to close the inch of space between your lips.

As much as you’d hate to admit it, you had spent lots of time imagining how kissing Shawn would feel, but the real deal could never compare. Everything that you had dreamed of; from the way his plump lips would fit with yours and the way he held your body against his felt ten times more intense now that it was actually happening outside of your head. You might as well have died and risen to heaven when you had slowly pulled away, too scared that you were just having an unbelievably realistic dream.

Shawn placed a chaste kiss under your jaw. “Thank God I asked Brian to put us together,” he had mused, not even aware of how your whole body tensed in shock.

You looked down at him, not believing his words. “Wait, this was all you?” He was the nervous one now as he suddenly looked everywhere but your eyes.

He sheepishly shook his head into your neck, trying to hide his blushing cheeks. “Yeah, I was—uh—too nervous to ask you. And I know that it sounds stupid because we’re best friends and all, but I couldn’t really think straight when—”

“God, you’re so fucking cute,” you had interrupted. A grin grew onto your face while you raised your hand to run it through his curls again.

Shawn then lifted his head, smiling as wildly as you were before leaning down to pull you into another sweet kiss.

“So are you.”

First-Date BAIT! Drabble

Read the original: First-Date BAIT!
Read more at Service Series

Words: 1.6k
Genre: Smut
Warning: Begging, a bit of dirty talk, swearing, light bondage, choking, heaven have mercy on my soul. 
I figured…since I talked so much about their kinks, mind as well. 

The back of your knee hits the edge of the bed and you fall onto the soft mattress, bouncing for a moment before he’s on you again.

“You like this don’t you?” His hot breath and husky voice fans over the shell of your ear, making you swallow hard and he smirks. Yoongi moves his swollen lips down along your neck, nipping at your skin and only enjoying it more as you squirm underneath him. “You want me to touch you, right?”

“Hurry up.”

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The Hideout (Happy x Reader)

I wrote this earlier in the week and forgot about it. Here y’all go my lovelies <3

Word count: 5,346

WARNINGS: Language & Explicit Content (Smut) 

Playlist: Safari - Jidenna 

Originally posted by lolsthecat

Originally posted by canadaloveselena

There was only one rule at the Hideout; no problems. In order to step into the building, you had to leave all issues and affiliations at the door. The Hideout was common ground, an in-between, a meeting place. All gangs of every kind were welcome. On the condition that you didn’t bring your violence inside with you. Once you were outside the front doors, well – that was a whole other story.


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Types of white kids in drama

- “I love drama! Fuck you all!” *has panic attack*
-says something offensive and deletes it when their called out and tries to act like it never happened
- gets in trouble for racism but their young so they get all their white adult friends to protect them
-does something obviously morally wrong but continues to argue it was right to their dying breathe digging a deeper hole with every post
-*gets into drama* *remakes immediately and tries to hide*
-does something bad then gives on shitty apology and ignores everyone
-does something bad and blow the drama up instead of being a normal and continues it for several weeks straight
-namedropping someone and acting like the person they namedropped was looking for drama

Feel free to add on

Headcanons about Blackhat

1. From what I’ve seen after watching Villanous all morning, I noticed in his portraits that Black Hat is a Demon (duh) that had been around for CENTURIES conquering heroes and having a name to be feared. Now, he had taken a step back and began a business career to cash in on new and upcoming villains.

2. There’s a soft center in BlackHat’s dark-black hole of a heart. You just got dig deep, deep, deep, DEEP down.

3. Black Hat has endless hats! When he removes his top hat another hat appears and whenever he needs a hat for a party, he will never have any trouble finding the perfect one.

4. Blackhat kidnapped the scientist, Dr Flug (is that how you spell it?) and is holding him against his will.

5. Behind his monocle hide the most darkest of his powers. When removed it makes him become his true form. so far, the others had not seen it.

6. Black Hat fears love, it is his only weakness. (Don’t tell the other heroes) 7. Even though love is his weakness, centuries of conquering and being basically alone, when he finally settled down. He needed companionship thus, no matter how much the others annoy him he can’t really get rid of them.

The Life I Want

Dean tosses his shovel down and sits on the edge of the grave. “God, I’m too old for this, Cas.”

The angel flicks a look at him as he finishes digging up the corpse. “I’m much older than you,” he points out, reaching a hand up. Dean grunts as he tugs the other man out of the hole and Cas collapses next to him.

“Then we’re too old for it,” Dean says and Cas smiles, hiding it in his chest as he busies himself brushing away dirt.

It’s not gonna do a damn bit of good. They’re both a mess and will be until they’ve showered.

The hunt was an easy one. Nothing Cas couldn’t handle on his own, but Dean had been bored between cases and he jumped at the chance to see Cas.

Sam was off in Florida with Alicia and Max killing a nest of ghouls, so Dean packed up Baby and drove twelve hours for a simple salt and burn. He’d worried, for about five minutes, that Cas would be offended by Dean shoving his way into the angel’s case—but Cas had seemed more pleased to see Dean than anything, and as they worked the case, chasing down the information and narrowing down who the vengeful spirit was, it was comfortable.

It was the same kind of comfortable that he only felt with Sam, but this had a subtle tension to it that his relationship with Sam didn’t. Dean didn’t bother to dissect it. He knew that the tension belonged to Cas, that it was a low thrum of awareness that he always feels only with Castiel.

“We should retire,” Dean says, nudging Cas with his shoulder, as they watch the body burn.

Cas smiles, small and secretive, and shakes his head a little as he follows Dean back to Baby.

They go to a diner, still dirty, and Cas brushes at his coat when they get a few raised eyebrows. Dean smiles and tugs him by the elbow to a small booth. It’s like every other diner he’s ever been in, and he frowns a little. He should have thought of that.
“Why don’t we ever go anywhere nice?” Dean asks. “There was a little Italian place. We could—”
“Dean,” Cas interrupts, a confused frown on his face. “I like this. They have excellent coffee and cheeseburgers. And three types of pie.”
Dean stares at him for a moment, and then gives a small laugh. “Ok, Cas.”
They order coffee and a cheeseburger for Dean, and Castiel amuses himself stealing his french fries.
“Where you headed next, Cas?”
“There’s a selkie in Washington I thought I might look into,” he says, shifting in his seat.
The bench squeaks and Dean frowns. “That’s the fourth case you’ve taken since we got back, man. You could take a break.”
Cas looks away. “And do what, Dean? If we ‘retire’, what would I do? Where would I go?”
“What do you want to do?” Dean asks.
Cas goes still, staring at him. So much flickers across his face, too fast for Dean to process, and then he blinks and shakes his head. “What I can’t have,” he says simply.

They get a hotel, because it’s late enough that Dean doesn’t want to drive and because Castiel rarely tells him no. It’s utterly ordinary except that the two queens is one king. Dean gives a little hiccup of hesitation when he sees that, throws a vaguely worried look at Cas who huffs and pushes him into the room.
“I don’t sleep, remember?”
Of course he does. And it’s not as if they’ve never done this, shared space. There was purgatory, when Cas would press close to warm him, and he could almost feel the angel’s wings. There were nights in the bunker, too many now to count, with Cas stretched across his bed while he sleeps and Castiel watched Netflix.
There were the nights during the apocalypse, when Cas stood slightly too close and he wanted to tell him to step away as much as he wanted to pull him even closer and bury himself in the strength and promise there.
The thing is,all of this feels familiar—Cas working with him, eating together, quietly bickering over the music in the car. Even the way Cas pushes past him and tugs off his tie with an air of relief. All of it feels like something they’ve done before. But more than that, it feels like something he could do again, something he could do every day.
They watch a movie. Dean’s lost in thought and tells Castiel to pick something before he ducks into the shower, trying to ignore the fact that his best friend is sitting in the other room, skin pink from the water’s heat, barechested and barefoot, in a pair of Dean’s sleep pants that sit too low on his hips—hips that are, ridiculously, fascinating.
Dean doesn’t know what movie is playing across the screen. He only knows that Cas is only an inch away from him, warm and inviting.
“If you could have it,” Dean says suddenly, “what would it be?”
Cas lets out a long slow breath, but he doesn’t pretend he doesn’t understand the question. “A house, two stories. With a room for Claire and a library for Sam. A garage, and a cat.” His lips up in a smile. “A garden, and a big kitchen with a coffee machine I can actually use.”
Dean laughs a little at that. Castiel’s head falls back, and a smile turns up his lips, dreamy and sweet.
“What else?” Dean asks. His chest feels tight, achy.
Cas rolls his head, looks at him, and his gaze is soft warm. “Hunting, of course. But only occasionally. Only when we—I—want to. The rest of the time, teaching. Writing what we—I—know, to share with hunters. Farmer’s markets on Saturdays and sleeping in on Sunday, and—I just want to be .”
Dean licks his lips. He could let it go. Could drink his beer and turn back to the TV, to the movie they aren’t even pretending to watch anymore, could let all of this go. But—
“You said we. ”
Castiel’s eyes are very wide and his breath catches in his throat. “Dean, I—”
He’s not sure who moves first. He’ll never be sure, after, who moves first. All he knows is that they’ve been moving toward this for so long, he can’t remember when they weren’t, and when they crash together, it’s not what he expected. It’s soft. A feather light brush of Cas’s lips against his, chapped and bitter from the beer. His heart catches as Cas leans in, a tiny noise slipping free.
For a moment, everything shivers to a stop, and it feels like he’s balanced on a precipice.
Then Cas’s teeth bite down, into his lip and the levee breaks. He growls, and drags Cas closer, his mouth opening. Cas kisses like he fights, all fierce and clever, overwhelming Dean as he uses his weight to push Dean down onto his back as he settles over him.
“Fuck, Castiel,” Dean pants and Cas laughs into the kiss. He catches Dean’s hands and holds them tight as he covers Dean’s body, his hips doing a dirty little grind that makes Dean whine in his throat and bite down on his lip.
“This,” Cas murmurs. “Every day, I want this, in our house.”
He thrusts again and Dean makes a noise that isn’t a whimper, and Cas smiles against him, all smug satisfaction, licks the noise from his lips and lifts away.
“No,” Dean gasps, hands scrambling against Cas’s hold, desperate for that friction. Cas hums against his throat and bites down. Smiles at the strangled noise that earns him, and then he’s got his hands on the prize. He slips Dean’s cock out of the sleep pants, then does the same with his own, and he sinks back down. They both groan at that, all desperate relief as they fit together, rubbing in the most delicious way.
“Cas,” Dean whines. His fingers are straining. “Cas, please. ”
It breaks something in the angel, and he shifts, releasing Dean’s hands to fist their cocks and Dean bucks up into him, gasping at the sensation. His hands are on those fucking hipbones and his cock is rubbing against Cas’s, the head catching, and it’s driving him crazy. He arches against him and Cas bites down on his neck.
This, Dean. I want this.”
Dean is shaking. He wants to pull Cas closer, can’t resist fucking up into Castiel’s perfect hand, and he wants to bolt, wants to run away. His world is shaking apart, and Cas’s grip, the weight of him pressing Dean into the bed, his lips on his throat—it’s all that’s holding him together.
“Give it to me,” Cas says, all grit and gravel in his ear, “Come for me, Dean.”
His hand twists, just right, and his thumb rubs over the slit of Dean’s cock, smearing precome over them both, and Dean shudders, comes, hot and hard between them. Cas slides down his body and licks it up, and Dean groans again, shuddering at the sight of the angel bent over him, hair messy and eyes shining, licking come off his chest.
When Cas kisses him, Dean can taste himself and Castiel, and it’s right.
“Want this,” Cas pants, grinding his cock into Dean’s hip and Dean nods, dumbly, too blissed out and stunned to do anything but nod and say, “Yeah, Cas. Yeah.”
Castiel comes suddenly, his eyes locked on Dean, and it’s like everything is stripped away. All that’s left is love and want, and all of it for Dean.
“Oh,” Dean breathes. “Oh, sweetheart.”
He pulls Cas up, and kisses him. It’s deep and slow and sweet, a promise wrapped up in each brush of their lips as Cas shakes and shudders and whimpers.
“This,” Cas babbles, frantic with want as he presses tiny kisses into Dean’s skin. “Want this. Want you .”
Dean nods and tucks him close. Hums a little soothing noise as Cas shivers against him. They’re a mess and he’s pretty sure beer spilled somewhere, and he doesn’t care. Castiel is in his arms, and that’s all he can really handle right now.
He nods again and says, his voice a shaky rasp, “Yeah, sweetheart. Me, too.”  

My fluffy little fi for the @deancas-sweetheart challenge. Thanks to @oceanbluecas & @geek-princess13 for the fantastic beta. <3 <3

The Fire I Got

Tom Waits interviewed by the New York Times March 1, 2017:

“I was a firefighter when I was 19 or 20. I was trying to get out of the draft and I thought of it as a good place to hide. I was working out of a fire station in a tiny town called Jacumba. There was an enormous amount of preparation and training that was like rehearsing a play … pretending to fight fires, learning how to dig a hole if you are cornered by a fire. … One night at maybe 3 a.m. the bell sounded. This was the real thing. I slept in my clothes and only had to put on my boots, and down the pole onto the truck and the siren was blasting and I am hanging onto the ladder and my heart is going like a drum and I am panting hard. It was late and all of a sudden the aroma of fried chicken envelops our truck and we begin to slow and there it is, roaring and crackling: a chicken ranch on fire. The old farmer couple, Mom and Pop, are holding each other in silhouette as their world burns. … The captain says: ‘WAITS!!! Take that hose and start putting out some of these chickens.’ So there I am aiming at these flying, screaming, burning chickens, and I had never seen a chicken fly before, but boy can they fly. … There had to be a hundred or so of them and the blast of water would douse the fire and they would come crashing to the ground — and then another and another. There was no time to think or prepare.”

“It was an emergency and when dealing with emergent behavior there is nothing to do but respond. I was in the moment. And it was not the fire I imagined or dreamed of. It was the fire I got.”


Here you go, first one of the year! Hope you guys enjoy it, let me know what you think xx


Originally posted by ohmygoshharrystyles

There’s a quietness in the room that’s disturbing after all the noise and movement from the night before - you and Harry had come back from Cheshire after spending two weeks with his family for the holidays.

There was chatter and noise all around during those festive days and even though you had skipped a trip to the pub with his hometown friends, allowing him some time for himself and his pals, you had spent the best part of the night in a fierce game of Scrabble with Gemma and Anne, while Robin observed the three of you screaming your heads off about points and game rules you knew nothing about.

Now, back in London post an agitated New Year’s Eve night and after spending the night in your own bed, in the silence of yours and Harry’s place, you realize how much you’ve missed the silence and the calm of your home. Not that you didn’t have fun, you had plenty of that, but being able to snuggle into your boyfriend’s body and not worry about his mother barging in on the two of you is, in fact, a relief.

Your skin is sensitive from the cold and sleep is slipping away, the slightest brush of the covers is enough to make you stir, so, when Harry’s hands brush against your back and your bottom, to fit one of his legs between yours, that’s enough to bring you to consciousness.

“Harr- let me sleep!” You mumble, tucking your face into the crook of his neck and locking your leg around his hip, cuddling in as close as you can manage in your sleep induced stupor.

“Jus’ want a morning cuddle, ’s that so bad?” He croaks, voice rough and scratchy from sleep, his warm hand pressing to your lower back to bring you closer, if that was even possible.

“It is when you didn’t let me sleep with all your snoring…” You gripe, arm lifting up to wrap around his neck, your fingers burying into his soft hair.

“Oi! ‘S not nice!” He prostests, fingers digging into your skin to pull you closer.

It’s early and the room is chilly, the light from the morning slipping through the cracks of your bedroom window, letting you know there’s a new day. You and Harry are both on your sides, clinging to each other as if your life depends on it and you sigh contently – you’re both home at last and you’re ready to spend the next few days between the sheets, but for now, you just want to get back to sleep.

Even though your body is asking for it, it seems your brain is not ready to go back to resting just yet. It’s been minutes of silence and just feeling each other close, but you’ve become painfully aware of the smell of Harry’s skin, the soap and sweat mixed with his perfume enough to make you burrow closer and inhale deeply against his neck.

“What’s that, love?” He asks and you can hear the smile on his voice when you kiss the spot right under his ear.

“You smell good…” Sighing, you squeeze him, nails digging into his scalp when you try and pull yourself closer to him in a painfully tight embrace. Your hips roll forward, your core rubbing softly against his thigh that’s tucked tight against your center. Your breath gets caught in your throat at the sensation. You know it’s ridiculous to feel so much from such a small rub, but it’s been so long… just over two weeks, actually, since the both of you had ben intimate.

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Another Member Catches The Two Of You During Your “Alone Time”


Kai: Oh my god!

*Suho quickly forces you under the sheets to hide you from sight*

Suho: What’s wrong??

Kai: You’re doing that with others in the house??

Suho: Doing what?? I’m not doing anything

Kai: I know (Y/N)’s under the sheets

Suho: (Y/N)?? She’s at home! What are you talking about??

Kai: Suho, you’re digging yourself a hole

Suho: Nothing’s happening! I was sleeping!

Originally posted by veriloquentmind


When D.O walked in on the two of you, he knew to be afraid. Kai hated being disturbed when he was spending ‘alone time’ with his girl

*walks into the bedroom*

D.O: Oh shit!

Kai: Out.

D.O: I’m sorry, I-

Kai: Out.

D.O: O-okay I’m leaving

*D.O slowly walks backwards towards the door*

Kai: Hurry!

*D.O runs out the room and Kai turns back to you with a smirk on his face*

Kai: Now… Where were we…

Originally posted by dailykimjongin


After being caught by Chanyeol, Lay walks into the living room where he hears laughter from the rest of the guys. When Lay comes into view their laughs only increase

Lay: Yeah that’s it. Laugh it up guys! At least I can get a girl!

Originally posted by sasshunontheloose


*hears door creak open*

Chen: If we don’t move then maybe he won’t notice us-

Sehun: Chen?! Oh my god! Guys! Hey, guys! *leaves room*

Chen: Well it was nice knowing you (Y/N)

(Y/N): Chen? What are you talking about?

Chen: Oh nothing. Just that Sehun’s gone and told the other guys about this and now my life is over

Originally posted by co-kai-ne


*Lay barges into your room with a large baseball bat in his hands*

Lay: Where is he??!!


Lay: Where’s the burglar??

Xiumin: What??

Lay: I heard (Y/N) screaming!

*you blush*

Xiumin: It’s not a burglar you freak!

Lay: Well why else would (Y/N) be screaming?? It’s like 2 in the morning

Xiumin: Urgh! Lay I swear to god if you don’t leave and let me continue then I’ll hurt you!

Originally posted by secrethideoutme


*in the middle of a heated moment with you*

Suho: Baekhyun!

*Baekhyun immediately jumps away from you and quickly tries to cover himself up*

Baekhyun: What are you doing in here?!

Suho: What do you mean?? This is the living room! On the sofa?? Really?!

Baekhyun: Oh my god leave already!!

Originally posted by cyoels


Chen: The youngest is finally becoming a man!

Surprised, Sehun turns and throws pillow at Chen, missing him as he shuts the door just in time

Sehun: Yep. They’re never going to let me live this one down

Originally posted by exomystyle


Baekhyun walks into the room looking down at his phone, not expecting you to be there with Chanyeol. You both don’t realise anyone’s walked in at first until you hear a loud scream

Baekhyun: AAHH! MY EYES!


Originally posted by chanyeolpictures


*Sehun walks into the room, eyes widening when he sees you and Kyungsoo together in bed*


Originally posted by exoturnback


So here’s some fanart based off of @crossroadsdimension‘s Siren Addie fic based off this Monster Addie drawing based off of @hntrgurl13‘s OC Adeline Marks.

What can I say, once the (fanart) inspiration bug hits, it hits. Now if you will excuse me I will now hide under my hiding rock of “Being shy over drawing fanart of other people’s OC’s and Fics for some reason.” >////.\\<

So a curse joke I made awhile back blew up and has brought some interesting convos to me. So I figured I’d make a more serious post addressing the discourse about whether or not to curse people. 

A lot of advice talks about “love and light”, “letting the light heal you”…there’s so much light-related advice on Witchy social media, I’m surprised GE hasn’t started adding lines of rainbow crystals to their adverts.  These sentiments sound nice, but they don’t help those who really need it. 

Too much light can kill a plant, it can blind you, it can burn you; nothing is an absolute “good”. Darkness can be the shadows where you grip your keys in-between your knuckles, the place where you feel most alone in your bed. Or it can be the night that lets you look up and see a star-splashed sky during a reprieve from the heat, or the shelves where fine wines and cheese age. Shadow and light work together on a canvas. 

And MOST importantly:

  •  Ignoring or trying to hide bad things doesn’t make them go away. Sometimes people physically can not and should not be told to just “think positive”. Not everyone’s “redemption” happens at the same rate. And not everyone can be saved. It fucking sucks, but that’s reality. There are mundane systems in place that exist to dig holes in the playing field so certain people trip more often. 
  • Cursing allows people to take back autonomy and control of aspects of their lives they may not want your light shined on. Cursing an abuser is less about an actual pack of rabid pixies to give them hemorrhoids; and more about being able channel frustration and hurt into creating something. Seeing a physical representation of your labours and having maybe just a brief moment where you feel in charge of a shit part of your life when mundane options aren’t working or are taking too long. Its part of a process. 
  • Telling someone using magic to “curse” people automatically makes them “bad” is just you trying to take ownership of someone’s coping mechanism. And that’s not “love and light”, that’s you being fucking “nosy and negative”. Unless someone’s craft is making them a danger to themselves or others, back off. Don’t add “personal, harmless craft” to a list of things someone would use during a shame spiral. (And I mean actual, verifiable harm to others. Not a self fulfilling prophecy, coincidence or anecdote.)  Cos if you do, you deserve to have those pixies come piss on your yoga mat or to put nettles on the saddle you use on your high horse. 

nekoni-chan  asked:

Oh. Kay. I didn't want to be the one to ask this, BUT since no one else will I suppose I'll ask just to satisfy my kittyful-like curiosity. *takes a deep breath* HT!bro head cannons for s/o getting their period around them for the first time. Would they try to eat them or eat them out? *runs and hides in a pre-made shame hole*

* I remember saying I was going to answer this months ago, and then I forgot.  Whoops!  Just saw it while digging through my drafts.

I think it would go more like….


Crooks kicks down the bedroom door–quite literally–with something clasped in his gloved hand.  "Paps!  Jesus, you sca–”


What?  You stare blankly, until your gaze shifts to his clenched fist.  



You feel your heart bottom-out into your stomach at the same that blood rushes to your cheeks in complete and utter mortification.

“N-no, I’m not!  I’m fine!”  Your voice comes out higher-picthed than usual.


His voice breaks, and you cut him off, crossing the room to grab his hands and attempt to pry your bloody sanitary items from his iron grip.

“God, no!  No, Paps, nothing like that!”  You’re blushing so hard that you start to feel numb, like you’re watching the scene unfold from above your body.  “Why the hell were you digging through the garbage?”

He’s unconvinced and bends his spine at a near ninety degrees, clasping your shoulder with his free hand.  “THE BETTER QUESTION HERE IS WHY WERE YOU TRYING TO HIDE YOUR BANDAGES IN THE GARBAGE?!”

“It’s normal, it’s natural, it’s just something that happens!  It’s a human thing!”


“Yes!  No!  Just… don’t worry, I’m not dying and no one hurt me!”

Papyrus deflates with relief–he can see the sincerity in your gaze–and from your blush, he can tell that wherever the wound is, it must be embarrassing.  Still, he prompts, “SHOW ME.”

You sputter suddenly, “Show you?!”


“No way!  I’m fine, I promise!”  You twist away from his grip and flee in complete embarrassment, shouting over your shoulder, “Stay out of my bathroom trash!”

He doesn’t relent until you cave and show him.


The smell is driving him crazy.  

There’s that metallic twang, laced with your musk.  Probably doesn’t help that he’s sitting across from you on the couch, and you’re turned facing him, one leg up on the back of the couch and the other hanging off the side while you watch TV.  Those cotton pajama shorts do nothing to conceal the scent.  

His fingers curl into his shorts, and his teeth clench painfully tight.  There was one point in his life when he would have known what that scent meant, but those memory are cracked and gone.  

…. Blood.

He’s trying to place why you’re bleeding.  He’s trying to figure out why it smells so good to him, why it has him gripping the hem of his shorts to tightly that the tips of his phalanges scrape against the inside of his femur.  

You shift, jiggling the leg that’s idly hanging over the back of the couch.  The scent wafts toward him, while you’re oblivious to his slipping control.  His eyelight begins to get dimmer and dimmer… and then suddenly, he’s on you.  One hand grips the back of your knee, and the other snatches the waistband of your short, tugging them down from the crest of your hip.

“Sans!  What…”  you squeak his name, but when you see his animalistic expression, one with hollow socks and a humorless grin pulled in a taunt line, you freeze.  His grip on your knee is bruising, and you involuntarily wince.

You didn’t mean for the fear to flash across your face, but it did.  It was quick, barely flitting through your gaze, but Sans still caught it.  With a deep huff through his nasal cavity, he abruptly disappears to his room.  

It’s a few days before you see him again, and he pretends it never happened.

*And to part of your question, yes, I believe both of the HT!bros would be menstrual munchers.

( *Mobile Imagine Masterlist )

{PART 14} Who Are You? // Im Jaebum

Originally posted by sugaglos

Pairing: Jaebum x Reader (Ft. Jackson & Jinyoung)

Genre: Angst

Summary; Things between Jaebum and Jackson turn full circle, and Jaebum has nowhere left to run.

Please note that this series contains mentions of road/car accidents, amnesia and cheating - (violence in this chapter)

I update this series every Sunday between 9pm-10pm (U.K Time)

{Part 1} // {Part 13} {Part 14} {Part 15}

Keep reading

Professor Pax says your treaties look good but nothing is as good as a big fat juicy earthworm and digging holes to hide in.

Hello Professor Pax! 😀🐸😄
Tiny says hi! He thinks you look most marvelous in your distinguished spectacles!
He sends you a big smile and a wheelbarrow of tasty earthworms! 😊🐸

It’s after midnight and I should be asleep but I’m just sitting her thinking about Bakugou & Midoriya’s relationship because it’s fascinating as heck.

Like, we’ve got Bakugou on the one hand who makes absolutely zero attempts to hide that he hates Midoriya. We’re talking over ten years of solid insults, physical bullying, verbal harassment, and literally telling Midoriya that he hates him and wants Midoriya to kill himself.

Bakugou’s not a subtle guy.

Then we’ve got Midoriya, who has endured this all these years and how does he feel about Bakugou?

Midoriya loves the guy.

Keep reading