and he has so much extra skin

It Started With A Kiss

Summary: All the ways Dean loves to kiss you

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Word Count: 1018

Warnings: All the fluff

A/N: I’m actually super proud of this! Thanks to my grammar nazi and my poetic friend @idreamofhazel

A kiss is the most powerful thing a man can say. When Dean kisses you, he kisses you with such passion and fervor, like he can’t get enough out of you, like you’re going to slip away at any moment. Each kiss tells you something different. That’s the thing about Dean, he has an appreciation for a woman’s body like no other man you have met before.

When he first kissed you, it was by surprise. You had no idea Dean was even remotely attracted to you. You had been hunting with him and Sam for years and the man never once made a pass at you. But when he kissed you, there was no doubt in your mind that Dean Winchester loved you. The kiss wasn’t just a sign of attraction, it was a proclamation of his love. The kiss was full of confidence; confidence that you were the one for him, that you would fill the hole inside his heart. It only took one kiss for you both to know that was it, that was your last first kiss.

In the morning, his kisses are lazy, peppered all over your face, like he has all the time in the world. He kisses any exposed skin, your shoulder, your neck, your thighs. It’s as if he spent too much time away from you, even if he dreamt of you all night. He kisses you until your eyes open and you turn towards him to capture his lips with yours.

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anonymous asked:

Headcanons for how Eren, Jean, and Erwin would react to their s/o doting on them and trying to get them to rest while they're sick/injured? Love your blog!

Thank-you so much! 


  • Considering he has to regrow limbs/skin pretty frequently, it goes without saying there are times where his s/o has to take care of him. Eren hates being confided anywhere, so he’d probably be really fussy about the whole thing.

  • His s/o has to be careful not to be too coddling with him, though. Although they just want to help him, Eren really doesn’t like when people fret over him too much. 

  • Of course, he’d be secretly grateful for all the extra attention from his s/o. When they would stay with him and keep him company simply because he couldn’t move around or would place a cool rag on his head and hold his hand during fever fits, Eren takes a moment to realize just how much he loves them.

  • While he doesn’t necessarily want to talk if he’s feeling awful, Eren likes it when his s/o stays with him for the night. They’re warm and it makes him feel less vulnerable with them there so they are happy to comply. 

  • Of course, Eren would thank them when he was better and would definitely return the favor if his s/o ever fell ill. 


  • If there is anyone who is going to soak up all the extra attention from his s/o, it’s definitely Jean. Even if it was just a minor sprain or common cold, he’d turn into a baby and ask his s/o to take care of him.

  • Of course, his s/o would roll their eyes but comply. If Jean was really sick or injured, however, his playful attitude turns into silence and all he wants to do is sleep. His s/o would stay by his side and make sure that he had everything he needed, whether it be water or medicine or just some company.

  • He’d like his s/o to read to him just to fill in the background noise. Depending on how delirious he is, Jean never remembers the stories but appreciates the sound of his s/o’s voice and the comfort it brings him.

  • His s/o has to become good at dodging his kisses because Jean is totally the type to tease them about getting sick just from being around him. It’s just a joke and he wouldn’t actually go through with it, but it’s funny to watch his s/o block their mouth with whatever book or item they were holding in their hands.

  • Jean is the type to want to watch his favorite movie over and over again when he’s sick. The DVD title probably plays in loop when he falls asleep. 


  • Oh boy, getting Erwin Smith to stop being the Commander for a day or two to get over an illness or an injury would be an absolutely nightmare. He’s constantly asking about work, even if his voice is scratchy and he’s running a high temperature.

  • His s/o would reassure him that Levi and Hanji had everything under control, but this doesn’t stop Erwin from getting up from bed and heading to his office to double-check their work. It’s not that he doesn’t trust them; he just has a hard time laying down and doing nothing.

  • Eventually, his s/o keeps a diligent eye on him and would force him to lay back down whenever he’d try to get up to get something. Although Erwin wouldn’t want to burden his s/o with having to take care of him, they’d insist on making sure he fully recovered.

  • Eventually, when his fever starts to go down, his s/o would let him read a little or play a board game to entertain him, given that he wouldn’t be doing much of anything else. Although he’s fairly well-behaved, his s/o can see that he has cabin fever and desperately wants to be recovered. 

  • When he’s all better, Erwin would thank his s/o for putting up with his antics and would absolutely return the favor if his s/o got sick from being around him and his germs.

crazy-indigo-child  asked:

To your Touch-starved Sheith. I can imagine that Shiro wouldn't be too keen on being touched *in any way* when he's without his prosthetic. Might even isolate himself just to be sure no one would catch him off guard. His dominant hand--which is also a prosthetic, would be one of his only means of defense. I'd imagine it would be a HUGE milestone in their relationship for Shiro to let Keith stay with him after removing the limb as well as letting him touch and caress him without it. Defenseless.

(talking about this post)

Oh man I am RIGHT there with you. You’re killing me here but I can definitely see that happening.

I imagine Shiro would avoid taking if off as much as possible, for the reasons you mentioned, and as a result it gets very sore and cramped. He would be in incredible pain and might even get a fever from the inflamed skin. I can see Keith realizing this, or maybe Shiro’s in so much pain he can’t hide it and Keith just sits him on the bed and gently confronts him about it. Part of my prosthetic theory is that his arm also has straps that go around his shoulders and chest for extra stability to keep it on while fighting, and if left on too long those would chafe and dig into the skin terribly.

Keith coaxes Shiro to remove his shirt and pleads to let him take of the prosthetic, but poor Shiro has this mental block and he doesn’t want to, but he’s in so much pain. Finally he just gives up and lets Keith take it off. His eyes are closed the whole time and he is in tears, saying what he never wanted Keith to see him like this. Keith pressed their foreheads together and tells Shiro he loves him, right now, at this very second, no matter what. Keith tends to Shiro’s arm and makes him promise to let him take care of him.

Sorry, I kinda ran with this! But I love the idea, I’ve had a fic planned for a while and if you don’t mind I’d love to use this concept! Thanks for sharing.


Éomer is very physical. Living among a warrior people and knowing from early age he’s going to follow in the steps of his father the First Marshal, it’s a good thing this is something that comes to him naturally. He enjoys the feeling of being on the move, whatever it may entail at the time, and if he’s forced to stay in one place for too long, he becomes impatient and twitchy. He usually walks fast and his stride is long, and he often needs to remind himself to adjust his pace in order to let shorter people keep up with him. 

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dragonpressgraphics  asked:

i'm gonna be cliche (sorry) DCJ - prompt : I'm Pregnant . Sorry, i seem to have forgotten what number it was and the screen disappeared when i clicked on this, oops. i think it was mid twenties? but the number isn't important, right?

“I’m Pregnant” 

“Ow fuck!” Dean pulls his hand free of the engine and glares at the blood oozing from the fresh cut on the knuckle of his middle finger.  It looks extra bright against the grease smearing his skin.

His glare shifts to the car he’s working on.  The damn thing has bitten him a few times, and in his head he’s started referring to the old Plymouth as Christine.  

“You okay?” Bobby asks from the open door to the shop’s main office.  

Dean straightens from under the car’s hood and pulls a rag from his back pocket, but realizes using it to clean the cut wouldn’t do much good since it’s filthy.  So he tucks it back in his pocket and heads for the sink at the back of the shop and turns on the water.  Bobby joins him as he starts scrubbing his skin with soap that makes the cut on his knuckle sting.

If it stings, the germs are dying, right?

He doesn’t look up from his hands when he speaks.  “What’s up, Bobby?  Did you need me for something?”  Because there’s enough noise in both the shop and the office that Bobby wouldn’t have heard him cussing over a cut finger, so he must have been there to witness it.

Sure enough, Bobby holds up a thick white envelope.  “You got mail.”

Dean freezes and eyes the envelope.  “Oh.  Uh… leave it there.” He gestures to the counter next to the sink with his chin.  “I’ll look at it when I’m done with Christine.”

Bobby gives him a skeptical look.  The envelope is unremarkable, but Bobby would have seen the return address, which means he knows at least part of Dean’s secret.  But at least Bobby doesn’t prod him for more information.  He drops the envelope on the counter, and pats Dean on the shoulder.  The gesture is accompanied by a kind look, and then Bobby leaves him alone.

Very deliberately, Dean finishes washing his hands, and takes a close look at the cut.  It’s still slowly oozing blood but it doesn’t look like it needs stitches, so he grabs a clean rag and wraps it around the wound.  Finally he lets his eyes fall on the envelope. 

It was pristine white until Bobby smudged it with his fingerprints.  Even working in the office it’s impossible to keep grease-free hands.

He wants to tear the envelope open and find out what it says right away, but his stomach twists with anxiety and he’s afraid to even touch it.  The letter inside it is going to change his life, one way or another.  He’s not sure he’s ready.  Once he reads it, he’s going to have to talk to Jimmy and Castiel about it, and they might not be happy with him for not telling them about it in advance. 

It’s shitty to spring something like this on them.  Especially since his life isn’t the only one that might change because of the contents of that envelope.

So he procrastinates as long as he can, finishing work on Christine, then hanging around the shop a little longer doing paperwork that he usually leaves for Bobby.  At least until Bobby chases him out.  He’s tempted to take a longer route home, but he’s not a complete coward so he drives to the house he’s shared with his husbands.

But he goes the speed limit, and not a mile over.

Castiel’s truck is parked next to Jimmy’s Continental in the driveway, and for once Dean isn’t irritated that they’re blocking him from getting into the garage.  He’s far too engrossed in talking himself out of a mild panic attack.  He pulls up at the curb, and drags his feet on his way into the house.

The envelope is a thick bulge in his back pocket, unopened.

When he opens the door he’s engulfed in the scent of Jimmy’s curry, and the guitar riffs of Metallica’s Black Album.  Castiel’s ruffled dark hair is visible over the back of the couch, and when he hears the door he sits up straight and grins.

“Dean, welcome home!” Castiel bounds up from the couch and into Dean’s arms.  He’s still in his scrubs, so he must not have been home too long.

“Heya, Cas.” Dean nuzzles the curls behind Castiel’s ear and holds him close.  The heat and strength of his husband doesn’t ease his tension as it usually does, because his mind keeps going through all the different ways Castiel might react to the news.

Their greeting alerts Jimmy to Dean’s arrival, and Jimmy appears from the kitchen.  He’s wearing a Kiss the Cook apron that Dean bought him as a joke when they first started living together, and his face is flushed from working over the hot stove.  Castiel releases Dean and steps aside so that Jimmy can have his turn.

“Jimmy,” Dean says on a sigh.  He leans into his other husband and inhales the spices lingering on his skin and hair.

He’s only legally married to Castiel, but the matching rings on their fingers and the devotion they all have for each other transcend a sheet of paper with a fancy stamp and a judge’s signature.  Besides, even if poly marriages were legal, the twins wouldn’t be allowed to marry each other.  So they made their own marriage, and the years they’ve been together have been some of the happiest of Dean’s life.

He just hopes the news hiding inside the envelope in his pocket doesn’t mess it up.

“You’re just in time,” Jimmy says when he steps back.  His hands still rest on Dean’s waist, and personal space be damned.  Both twins crowd him, something that took him time to get used to, but now he loves because too much space usually means someone’s upset about something.  “Dinner’s ready.  Come help me set the table.”

The three of them work together to set the table and set out the rice and fried veggies and curry chicken.  Normally Dean would dig right in to the mouth watering meal, but his stomach is still twisting with worry.  He doesn’t quite pick at his food, but he shows slightly better manners than usual. 

The brothers notice, both of them looking at him curiously, but neither says anything.  Not at first anyway.  It’s not until Dean declines seconds that Jimmy finally crosses his arms on the table and leans forward to catch Dean’s gaze.

“Okay, what’s up with you?” he demands in a tone that says he doesn’t expect any bullshit.  “You’ve been quiet, and you act like you don’t love my cooking, and if you tell me that I added too much paprika, my feelings are going to totally be hurt.”

Castiel joins in on the inquisition, but his voice is gentle, as is the hand he rubs over Dean’s knee under the table.  “Did something happen at work?”

Dean sucks in a deep breath, and let’s it out in a sigh.  “Sort of.”  He hasn’t opened the envelope yet, but work is where he received it, so he’s not exactly lying even though he hasn’t opened it yet.

They watch him silently, their eyes expectant.  Shit.

“Dean?” Castiel prompts when he remains silent.

Because he’s an asshole, he says the first thing that comes to mind.  “I’m pregnant.”

So is the silence in the room as they stare at him in confusion, their heads tilted at the exact same angle, which makes him grin.

“Um, Dean.  Sweetheart.” Jimmy reaches across the table and rests his hand over Dean’s.  “You’re very pretty in panties, but you know you’re a man right?  You’re not equipped for pregnancy.”

“Unless you’ve been keeping something from us,” Castiel adds.

The laugh building up in Dean’s chest collapses, and his shoulders sink.  He pulls his hand free of Jimmy’s and reaches into his pocket for the envelope, dropping it on the table between the plates and serving dishes.  It’s crumpled from being folded in his pocket, and has even more greasy fingerprints smeared across it.

But the KU logo is clearly visible through the grimy fingerprints.

Identical pairs of blue eyes go wide, but Castiel is the first to reach for the envelope.  He turns it over in his hands, and looks up at Dean when he sees that it’s still sealed.  “You applied for college?”

“Yeah,” Dean murmurs.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Jimmy asks.

Dean squirms in his chair.  “I didn’t want to get my hopes up.  And if I get in, I’ll have to cut down my hours at the shop and I don’t want to make things harder on you guys, so I’m not sure I’ll even-“

“Oh yes you fucking will,” Castiel growls.  He holds the unopened envelope to Dean.  “I think I can speak for both of us when I say that you’re an idiot if you don’t think we’ll support you through this.”

“What he said,” Jimmy adds.

Heat suffuses Dean’s cheeks under their reproachful glares.  Even though he’s only a year younger than them, he feels like he’s being scolded by older brothers.  Which should probably be weird since the three of them fuck each other almost daily, but since that also includes them fucking each other, it’s not nearly as weird to him as anyone else might find it.

Sheepishly he accepts the envelope and stares down at the KU logo.  He can feel the weight of his husbands’ stares, but they remain silent and let him go at his own pace.  Which is one of the things he loves about them.  And they’re right that he was being stupid by worrying about their reaction. 

So he takes the plunge, and rips the envelope open.  Inside is a fat bundle of paper, which he assumes is a good sign, but he holds his breath until he reads the cover letter.  As the news sinks in, a grin spreads across his face.

“Well?” Castiel demands when he doesn’t say anything.

Dean’s laugh is shaky with the threat of tears, but they’re from happiness and relief.  He passes the letter to Castiel, who brightens almost as soon as his eyes fall on the words on the page.  “Well,” he says, when Castiel passes the letter on to Jimmy.  “I guess I’d better talk to Bobby about those shorter hours.”

The legs of two chairs scrape across the floor, and then Dean is at the bottom of a pile of Novaks.  They’re laughing and congratulating him, and promising to give him all the support he needs, and Dean thinks not for the first time, that he’s a very lucky bastard to have them in his life.

lady-fuj0shi  asked:

ok i noticed that Mo has another pillow at his side, does that maybe mean he hugs in his sleep or that he needs to hug something to fall asleep? bcs i know what(who) he can hug ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) . aaand i'm reading too much into things again...


i admit i’ve always imagined he tian as the clingy one during sleep, but after getting your message im starting to reevaluate that because the idea of guan shan having to hug something or someone to sleep is honestly……… cute………………….

imagine him sleeping on his side and curling up around a pillow, wrapping his arms and legs around it and clutching it tightly while his head rests on another one, seeking comfort in it when he’s alone. and then he and he tian get together and at first it’s hard for guan shan to lose the habit, to feel comfortable enough to curl up against he tian instead of a pillow, but it’s okay because he tian is there, pressed up against his back, an arm wrapped around his waist and fingertips slowly rubbing soothing circles into his stomach, holding him tight, and suddenly guan shan finds out that there’s nothing more comforting than the warmth radiating from he tian’s body and to sink into sleep knowing that he tian is close

then one night they go to bed and settle in their usual positions - guan shan curled up around a pillow, he tian curled up around guan shan - but after a while guan shan gently rolls over into he tian’s embrace and wraps his arms around him, tangling their legs together and pressing his face into he tian’s chest as he hums contently against he tian’s skin. after that the extra pillow they used to keep on the bed becomes useless, and he tian is endlessly amused at how he now has to spend at least ten minutes every morning just prying himself from a grumpy guan shan who doesn’t want to let him go (not that he tian minds)

More Than

Here you go Anon! Remember you’re more than a weight! xo KS

“Ahh!” You cry in frustration. You just want to go out and look nice and nothing is fitting right. You stand in your closet for a moment just staring at your clothes. Clothes that, apparently, don’t fit anymore. Everything is too tight, your pants don’t zip, you just wanted to look beautiful, for Aaron, and how can you now?
You start tearing clothes off of hangers and throwing them out into your bedroom. Fuck this pencil skirt! Fuck this pair of jeans! Fuck this top and this one! You didn’t realize you had hot tears running down your face until one falls and hits the top of your chest.
That seems to be what the dam needed to break. You drop to the floor and sob, your body shaking with each one as you mourn the loss of your slender body. How could you let yourself get to this point? Where nothing fit. You continue to beat yourself up with negative thoughts, you’re so lost in them you don’t hear Aaron come home.
“Baby?” He asks softly from the doorway, “What’s wrong what happened?” You frantically try to cover up the body he’s seen a million times over.
“I’m-I’m not going tonight.”
“What? Why not?”
“I’m too fat! None of my fucking clothes will fit!”
“Baby an extra fifteen pounds doesn’t make you fat.” Aaron chides sliding to the floor next to you.
“It was enough for you to notice.”
“Your boobs got bigger. Of course I noticed.” You can’t help but laugh at that as he pulls your body to his. He trails his hand down then back up your spine. “I didn’t fall in love with what you look like, I fell in love with you. Your kind heart, your laugh, your willingness to care for Jack, the way your voice gets husky when we have phone sex, the way you comfort me when I wake up from those nightmares. Those are the reasons I fell in love with you. Not the body that’s going to change.”
“I just want to be beautiful for you.”
“Believe me. You already are. But if you want to change, get back into these clothes you’ve torn out of our closet, then I’ll be there to help in any way I can.”
“You’re too good to me.” You whisper.
“Well someday I’m going to be an old man who probably gains more than a few pounds so I’m hoping that you’ll feel too guilty to leave me since you’ll still be so damn sexy.” You laugh with him then kiss his cheek.
“Thank you Aaron.”
“Now can I show you what I got you?”
“You got me something?” He nods and pulls a long bag off of the bed. Peeling the bag off he reals a long black dress. It has a fuller skirt and a low cut front that will show off enough skin to be sexy but not too much to be uncomfortable. “Oh Aaron it’s beautiful. What if it doesn’t fit.”
“It will.” He sounds so confident that you can’t help but laugh again. “Go try it on.” You sigh softly then do as he asks, and he’s right. It fits perfectly and you know he’s right about everything he said too. A few extra pounds isn’t the end of the world, and you have Aaron to remind you when you forget.

anonymous asked:

Wait I thought you were latinx?

my dad’s family is mexican – he and my sister have dark skin and look much more “ethnically mexican” – but i’m white-skinned and was raised in a white community, so my connections to the latinx community are limited. i’m bilingual and my family celebrates some mexican holidays, but i don’t undergo discrimination because of that part of my identity, or have the understanding of modern latinx community and culture necessary to speak for it; so although i’m technically latinx in that i come from a latinx family, i’m still not sure that it’s appropriate for me to use that label.


Summary: In a way, Will Solace had always been looking for Nico di Angelo. Or, of autumn evenings, one-night stands, and the accidental art of biting off a little more than you can chew.

It is late, the bar is almost empty, and Will Solace is losing hope.

Maybe it had never been a good idea in the first place, this whole ‘looking for a one-night stand’ thing. Will’s no good at hook-ups, which carry with them a certain, inevitable End-with-a-capital-E. He gets too emotionally attached, at almost dizzying levels of speed, and then he ends up alone on his couch, eating tubs of ice cream and watching hours of The X-Files on Netflix.

Plus, he’s lived in this town his entire life. Every face he sees is at least vaguely familiar, all belonging to people he’s passed on the street, ever since he was a kid. One-night stands need anonymity, blankness. Will can’t get that here.

He takes a sip of his beer and sighs, prepping himself to leave casting a last, long look around the room. The lighting is bad, the only glow cast by strands of lights wrapped around the bar and strung off the walls. There are two or three couples finishing bottles of cheap wine, one rowdy group of friends doing shots by the door, and one man sitting alone on the opposite side of the bar.

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okay so I was talking on another blog last night about the fact that comic book Joey showing up naked or almost-naked a lot in his free time (i thought he was just very comfortable with his body or something) was actually a really smart defence mechanism because he can bodyjump through skin contact

I have no idea if cartoon Jericho has the same ability; but I mentioned wanting to design a wildly inappropriate Apprentice outfit for him (because Slade’s costumes for Robin and Terra were designed to optimise and exploit their abilities to full potential) and SO MANY PEOPLE WANTED TO SEE IT HAHA

so here you go guys here’s Jericho’s male stripper costume from a loving father who doesn’t get out of the evil lair much


  • exposed upper arms and hands for the highest chance of skin contact during combat
  • exposed midriff as an extra expanse of bare skin; also for an air of vulnerability/an easy target to draw opponents into close combat
  • forearm sleeves and leggings made of tearaway segments for the ability to swap out armoured protection for more bare skin
  • leggings instead of booty shorts because you are not going out like that young man
  • heavily armoured chest plate to avoid getting hit and dying
  • neck and shoulders shielded by solid metal because Joey’s weakest/most emotionally vulnerable spot is his scarred throat and Slade is a good thoughtful dad
  • sturdy non-functional belt to make the whole ensemble actually look like a practical costume and not something out of Rocky Horror
  • probably some kind of visor or protective eyewear to avoid as much damage to the eyes as possible

all for the low low price of ten million gallons of mind control serum/blackmail/brainwashing to actually get Jericho into this ridiculous thing

BTS As Your Roommates

Disaster Namjoon :

Namjoon broke the door on your first meeting, god knows how he can beak a freaking door when he just had to open it, but nothing can be explained by science when it came to this disaster-man. Your room is a mess with papers laying everywhere during exam period and you can’t seem to see the floor beneath your feet. You guys are okay for now, but once you find out that namjoon broke the toilet for the sixth time in two month , it’s another story. He’s like your brother at heart and your loyal friend. He may break everything , but you’re clumsy so you compliment each other.

Magic mirror Jin :

OH mirror mirror on the wall…who’s the fairest of them all ?! Of course it had to be your roommate jin. Not only was he gorgeous even when he woke up, but he also knew how to cook and has that irresistible fragrance that makes you drunk of ecstasy each time he passes by you. He’s like a prince coming out of a book and you want to match his level of perfect , but you can’t and he tells you its okay since no one can accomplish such a thing. He often gives you advices for your dates and your outfits ,since you’re a fashion terrorist in his perspective .

Cutesy Taehyung :

This guy painted the walls pink when he learned a girl would room with him.You were probably the best thing that ever happened to him! He welcomed you as if you were from another world and did everything to make sure you were confortable. Tae saw you as a fairy from another world and was always admiring you from afar. You both quickly got very close because you found him adorable.You would watch a lot of movies at eat lots of snacks while cuddling on that dream princess bed he made for you. Tae just loves you so much that he always throws a tantrum when you need to go to class, since he knows you guys will be seperated for more than 7 hours.

Hormonal Teen Jungkook :
He’s the quiet type who won’t bother you unecessarily. He seemed very shy at first , but as you got to know more of him, he’s quite manly and has that hint of cuteness. The tension always get extra heavy when he gets back from dance practice , with that moist looking skin and wet hair. You never know where to look and he doesnt know how to react each time you get out of that shower. You don’t know if its because he’s still growing and his hormones are acting up or something, but he tries to avoid you at all costs, especially during summer . Little did you know that you drive him insane with every little thing you do , but he’s a master at keeping it in his pants….well for now *cough , cough*.

Porn addict Park Jimin :

When this guy giggles , you know he’s up to something not good. This guy is obsessed Wether it be magazines or videos, he has the entire kit a single 45 y/o old man needs to relieve himself from sexual frustrations, the only difference is that Jimin is twice younger.You still remember catching him hiding all his posters and magazines. As the time passed you got used to him and feel extra awkward each time he does his “ things”.You felt embarassed to even look at him and You always threaten to tell the entire world about his secret if he doesnt clean his part of the room.This man gets out of control when there’s a girl near him, It’s probably a miracle that he still hasn’t jumped on you yet….

Movie Freak Hoseok :

This guy has posters of superheroes all over the room and freaks out everytime a new movie comes out.He might as well use up all of your electricity to watch all those movies on netflix. He’s quite casual, wearing sweatpants in and out as if he didn’t care about the universe. You both came to an agreement where he would let you watch your korean drama in peace, but he never listens to what you say, since he seems too excited about anything in general.You and him connect on some spiritual level when it comes to eating snacks, because you both like the same chips and the same ramen, which doesn’t make it hard for your groceries.

Sleepy Yoongi:

This guy never bothers to lock the door anymore since he knows that you’re a normal human being that goes out the day and comes back a night unlike him who lives like some retired vampire. You are very worried about his health , since you never see him eat anything. You don’t talk that much , but when you come downstairs at 3am to drink water , he’s there to keep you company.He slides into your bed by accident sometimes since he sleeps very late and can’t seem to see where’s his own bed. You always wake up in fear, because you see that weird green hairy thing beside your head , but realize it’s min yoongi and smack the back of his head .

A Voltron concept I discussed with a friend of mine but wanted to share to the larger internet is the idea that Galra might have a kind of super-adrenaline rush that they’re capable of using. 

I mean, it makes sense, because of the alien races we’ve seen fleshed out in detail, many of them have particular abilities- Altean shapeshifting, the Balmerans’ telepathy and general relationship with their host- and the Galra, while wildly successful, haven’t shown obvious indications of a particular ability of their own, outside of druid magic which is clearly not universal to the species and we see both Alteans and Balmerans doing something comparable- though obviously with different philosophies.

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ichxgo  asked:

Sucks in a sharp hiss then groans at the grip on his hair, not that it slows him. Goes after your mouth, barely having time to get teeth on you before your head drops back, and he bites a path down your airway instead before finding one of those marks and gnawing at it as if he could tear it from your skin with his teeth. He's not sure if he can actually fuck you any harder, but he's up for trying. Reaches down to grab your leg and yank it higher up his waist, so he can get that much deeper.

The teeth at his chest honestly make him wonder if you’re trying to get even for how badly he marked you up yesterday, but he barely has time to enjoy the thought before he freezes up for a moment when you hike his leg up higher, the extra depth to your already harsh thrusting verging on painful. Pushes out a stuttering, breathless whine, releasing your hair to almost desperately drop both hands to claw at your thighs, then push at you, though without much honest effort going towards actually pushing you away. Even he can’t tell if he wants you to ease up a bit or go harder still but he’s sure they’ll figure it out.

Mculove here!!! This isnt part of your request! I was going to wait for this but i just couldnt!

So I totally think Jensen and Quinn would be the couple to get caught getting it on in an elevator and that thought just came to mind and thus this was born. 

I wanted to make something for Jake and Quinn as a thanks for just being so awesome!!! Your blog is amazing, your stories are wonderful and you’re one of the sweetest people Ive met on here!!!

Hope you like this!!!!

Oh. My. GOD!!!! I LOVE IT!! Thank you so much for making me one Sweetie!! I see everyone’s and I do a little happy dance for them every time!  Thank you for making them for everyone, it’s such a cool thing to do!

You are so sweet and kind. I’m blushing at all your kind words, I don’t know what to say. YOU’RE one of the sweetest people on here! XO

Jensen & Quinn WOULD be the kinda couple that get caught messing around in an elevator! So thank you Sweetie for inspiring this very smutty nsfw one shot! I hope you like it!

Thank you again! This truly means the world to me! xo

Jensen & Quinn

Cookie (One Shot)

Warnings: NSFW lots of elevator smuttiness!

Authors Note: Thanks again to @mculove for the manip of J&Q that inspired the whole story! She’s the best and I love her guts! xo

“Hey Babe!” Quinn was all smiles while she strolled into Jensen’s office. He was sitting at his desk staring at his computer screen and barely noticed that she entered the room.

Her breath caught in her throat for a second. He looked amazing in his uniform, it was a shame she hardly ever saw him in it.

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He’s Sick

Pairing: Michael & Y/N

Word Count: 1,498

Requested: Anonymous - “Can you do an imagine where Michael is sick?”


Michael has always turned into the biggest baby when he’s sick, so when you received a text from him earlier that afternoon explaining he was coming home early from the studio, because he felt ill you immediately rushed to the closest drugstore to pick up items for what you liked to call your “Michael Survival Kit.” You pull into the driveway, sighing slightly when you see his car already there. You gather your bags, entering the house as quietly as possible, hearing a groan coming from the living room.

“Baby?” He calls.

You kneel beside him, pushing the hair sticking to his sweaty forehead out of the way, grimacing when you feel how hot his forehead is.

“Hi Mikey, I’m right here, love. How are you feeling?”

“It hurts.” He whines, nuzzling his face closer to your touch.

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anonymous asked:

WAIT WAIT WAIT IS THE DRABBLE GAME OPEN?! Ok, Wonwoo+tutor (like your classmate)? Don't do it if you don't want to! I love your aus

  • tutors you in mathematics because he likes being modest and saying he isn’t that good at it when all he does is get straight A’s like cmon wonwoo we know you’re good at this
  • probably has like the neatest handwriting and really detailed notes??
  • you’re like grabbing your head because you’re like fRick math is HARd and wonwoo’s like chuckling like no no it’s actually fun if you look at it like this-
  • and he leans over, very close, and points to the equation and as he talks it’s so hard to concentrate because he’s so beautiful up close like this like his skin is smooth and his eyes are sparkling and you’re like ,,,,,,holy shit,,,,,,,,,,,,right the math the math
  • and wonwoo always has like the nicest, simplest stationary and he even buys an extra textbook with problems to help you study
  • and he puts in so much effort to explain each step with caution and carefulness and his tone is soft and even if you get something wrong, he just smiles and promises that you two can work together to fix it
  • sometimes when you don’t notice wonwoo starts doodling your features on his notebook but when you look up he hides it with his arm
  • (mingyu sees the sketches later and teases the HECK out of him) 

A/N: Follow up to 4.02 because I’M NOT OKAY. 


She looks adorable all layered up with blankets – her hands outstretched as she takes the mug of hot chocolate from her son, her smile wide when Henry mentions something about extra cinnamon – the colour having returned to her cheeks and lips, her hair once again soft beneath his fingers.

Relief at her wellbeing anchors deep in his chest and he can’t seem to drag his eyes from her, much less his touch, tracing patterns onto her shoulder with the pads of fingers, contentment humming beneath his skin at the way she does the same; her fingers shifting so they can lace properly through his, caressing his wrist as she talks to Elsa.

She has a spot of whipped cream clinging to her upper lip after she takes a sip from her mug and he grins, swiping his thumb over it and licking it off. He hums at the taste and swipes more cream from the top of her mug. He chuckles at the look she gives him – borderline indignant – smile lingering as she arches her neck to call over to the kitchen.

“Henry, can you make Killian one? He’s stealing mine.”

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anonymous asked:

What does it take to turn on Norway?

APH Norway: Ha. Ha. Ha. You mean what doesn’t turn on Norway? He gets turned on by the littlest things, from seeing a little extra skin on his S/O to getting little kisses on his neck. The major trick here is trying to get him to show that he is turned on. He has had so much practice with that poker face of his that it is almost impossible to crack. His S/O would have to do something drastic to turn him on enough to get his face to show anything.

Round the World (and home again)

25 Days Christmas Romance Challenge || Day 20

Character A returns to their birth-town for the holidays. Character B is their estranged childhood best friend.

(header by the incredibly sweet and talented @katie-dub)
This is kinda short and kinda different and kinda weird but I hope you like it.

Round the World (and home again); ~ 1, 400 words; FF.NET || AO3

It’s December and Emma has never seen the sky that angry at the world. But, to be honest, she doesn’t spend that much time gazing at the sky. She is too busy throwing clothes in a duffel bag.

She is, clearly, without a doubt, certifiably, insane.

Another pair of jeans for sure.

She is absolutely out of her mind.

And her sneakers.

She is not considering the consequences and all the possible ways this could blow in her face.

And an extra pair of socks never hurts, right?

She has been aching all day at the memory of his face when she said she won’t be there to send him off and now-

Maybe two extra pairs?

She is not considering or thinking or rationalizing or analyzing. She is going with her gut. Heart. Whatever.

Fuck it.

She zips up her duffel, takes the stairs two at a time and consequently almost falls on her face. She wrenches the Bug’s door open, throws her bag in the back and breaks every traffic law on her way to the docks.

She misses him.


“Did you go home?”


“Did you go to Ireland first?”

“Ah, no. No, I thought… a journey doesn’t start at home, it ends there, right?”

“… Right. I mean, I don’t… I guess.”


“So where did you start?”


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anonymous asked:

6, stevenat

A Kiss of Relief 

It just doesn’t occur to him.

It’s not a self-esteem thing. Sure, there’s a part of Steve that’s still that scrawny little punk from the forties but that’s - the best of him is too corny. The core of him, maybe. The point is, there’s no part of him that’s moping around thinking that he’s not good enough for Natasha Romanoff.

No good for her, maybe. Vulnerability wears hard on her, even if she’d tackled it with the same calm determination in the wake of SHIELD’s downfall as she did everything else. There’s Barton, there’s Banner, and in moments when her eyes longer too long and it takes her extra seconds to speak, he thinks there’s something of Bucky, somehow, that has gotten under her skin. 

To be close to her is to crack her open that little bit more, and Steve is too raw in his own way to want to be the one with the crow-bar. He can’t do that to her.

“So,” she says one evening, when the others are piled up in the latest safehouse with a battered old Wii and way too much junk food. They’re adults, but in the face of Mario Kart you can’t tell.

Steve half turns his body towards her from where he’s leaning on the balcony, beer dangling from his fingers. He can’t get drunk, but it’s late summer and the sun is setting, fingers of red stretching across the sky to match the shade of her hair. She’s taken to wearing it up lately, although a few strands have escaped the messy bun she’s got it in now, curling again the stretch of her neck. 

Beer weather. He covers the way his breath catches in his throat with a raised eyebrow, a silent invitation for her to finish her sentence.

Natasha grins at him, and there’s teeth in the expression as she steps into the space left open between him and the railing. Slim, deadly fingers curve around the neck, the brush of her skin on his sending sparks skittering up his arm. She holds his gaze for a beat too long as she takes a swig, and then she’s turning away from him, draping her arms over the side of the balcony. 

They’re in the middle of suburbia. There’s something soothing about the stretch of perfectly manicured grass rolling out in front of them, broken only by a carefully placed lemon tree.

Soothing, and a little alien.

“So?” he prompts, like his heart isn’t in his throat at the way the dying light limns her profile.

She takes another pull from the bottle. “I’m wondering. If you’re still trying to gather the courage to make your move, or if you’ve got it and something else stupid is stopping you.”

Nothing follows the pronouncement. No sudden explosion, no interruption from the rest of their ragtag squad of heroes and misfits. Steve coughs, thinking for a heartbeat that she thinks he’s interested in someone else, realising in the next thud of his heart that she’d just come out and say it if that was the case. 

He looks down at the ground. There’s only feet and the wood under them there, so he looks up at the sky instead, scrunching his face up just a little. 

“Probably something stupid,” he admits.


“Part of it.”

She snorts, finishing off the beer. “Guess that makes two of us.”

The silence stretches between them, filling out what little space there is between them. It should be awkward, but Steve can only feel patience. Comfort. His or hers, it’s impossible to tell, and maybe that’s the point.

A quiet smile works its way onto his face. He clears his throat. “So. If I kissed you now–?”

She’s not looking at him, but her mouth curls up to match his. She sets the bottle aside, and then her body is turning in his. Almost touching, but not quite. “You’d better do a better job of it than last time.”

“I was under duress.”

“That line work on all the dames?”

He rolls his eyes at her, curling his finger under her chin. For a moment, something like trepidation squirms in his gut - worry that this is the wrong play, that he’s misread friendly teasing as something else–

He kisses her. His lips ease over hers because neither of them are gentle, but he thinks they might both deserve it, and she leans into him with every bit of seriousness that the conversation skirted around. The last heat of the dying sun curls in his gut, in the palms of his hands as cup her jaw, curve around her waist. The cotton of his shirt creaks in the grip of her fingers.

He can feel them tremble. He can hear his heartbeat and hers, out of sync, fast. Faster. He laughs into her mouth, soft and a little scared. She swallows it down.

“Here I was, worried you weren’t interested.”

“Lucky I’m the brains of the outfit,” she laughs, but the tremble of her lips against his taps out the words, me too.

He kisses her again, because he can and he can’t help it. “Don’t I know it.”