Revenge Dance

Group: BTS


Excerpt:  “ Now all he had to do was have you begging for him back so he could apologise, and he knew your weaknesses.

Genre: angst, BBMAs au

Length: 1k

A/N: i saw a jungkook thigh appreciation post and whoops my hand slipped..

Up tomorrow: JIMIN ( click here for the complete BBMAs masterlist )

Originally posted by the9397

“All you care about is your image,” you threw the bracelet he had bought for you at his hard chest, it bounced off with barely a flinch from him, “your music, your dancing, yourself!” You pulled the promise ring from your finger throwing it at his face before someone wrapped their arms around your torso to stop you from doing anything else.

Jeongguk stood there before he ran a hand through his hand aware you wouldn’t listen to anyone when you were this angry, before looking you straight in the eye, “You just had to pull the shit right before the awards?” You pulled against the arms restraining you, hands balling into fists, getting ready to punch his devastatingly sharp jaw so hard it would shatter.

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anonymous asked:

Are you still writing? If so, are you still taking requests? Because I have a feeling that I need to read some Harry angst where he comforts you when you cry and how he hates that his angel is upset please and thank you

the feelings described here are from my own experiences only and do not necessarily represent the emotions that a sad or depressed person might feel. 

When you see someone crying, you get the overwhelming instinct to ask them what is wrong. And they usually reply with a reasonable explanation. A justification of their tears. A loved one passed away. A failed exam. Something that makes you go ohh, okay. 

But what happens when you see someone crying, and you ask them why, and they don’t respond. Or worse, what if you ask Why are you crying? and they reply with I have no idea. What then? You are forced to comfort them while you bathe silently in your own brewing pot of curiosity. 

The same pot of curiosity that now stirs itself furiously in Harry’s mind as he sees you curled up on the bathroom floor. He had just come home from the studio, and was calling out your name when he finds you there. Lying on your side. Tears streaming down your cheeks.

“I don’t know what happened,” you confess as he traces gentle circles on your back. He gently folds his arms around your fragile frame. “I just…I think I was just listening to music and…and suddenly I was struck with this–” your breath catches in your throat and you feel another urge to let out a cry. 

Harry’s eyebrows are knitted together in concern, and his lips are parted with worry. You push on, “I was struck with this sudden weight on my chest…and this loneliness and this distinct awareness that…that no matter what I do, I’m going to die anyways and it doesn’t matter one bit. Nothing matters.”

“Don’t say that,” Harry hisses. You look up into his green eyes as he continues, “Of course you matter. Everything you do does. And yes, we will all die one day, but what you’re leaving behind is what matters. What you leave behind for our children.”

You blink up at him, stunned at his response. You had never thought of it that way before. “The goal,” Harry adds, “isn’t to live forever. It’s to create something that does.”

This makes you smile. “You definitely stole that from some famous person,” you laugh, and he nods, a little embarrassed. Then you say, in a quiet voice, “You never told me you wanted to have kids with me.”

He grins, “Well, I thought it was self-explanatory considering you are the love of my life.”

Never Get A Break - Jaehyun

Requested: OMG adm Finn the jaehyun make out was soo perfect kyaaaaah~😙 your writing is amazing, like a professional, it’s so good! 👍👏👌Now I need the hot steamy makout with Jaehyun too lol.😁 Tysm ily 💜💛💚💟✌

A/N: Sorry, it’s probably not as steamy as you wanted, it’s rlly fluffy :’)
Also it’s 3AM so I apologize for producing garbage ^^;

**suggestive language**

Word Count: 485

Your back pressed to the granite counter, a gentle laugh escaping your plush lips. Your fiancé’s hands wandered under your sweater, his calloused fingertips setting your skin ablaze. He smiled, his soft dimple showing as his lips brushed your cheek.

“I missed you” he murmured.

His fingertips prodded at your ticklish sides, making you squirm.

“No!” you giggled, pushing at his chest gently.

“Don’t act like you don’t like it” he whispered, pressing his frame flush to your own.

Jaehyun stopped his antics, instead pulling your waist closer. His gaze softened, his smile fading. He leant down, tilting his head gently. Your eyes fluttered close, your heart throbbing. You waited expectantly, slowly peaking an eye open after a few moments. Jaehyun’s gaze met your own before he drew back, laughing obnoxiously.
You pouted, stalking past him.
He grasped your elbow, guiding you to lean against the counter once again. He leant close once again, his tall frame obstructing your view.

“Is this what you wanted?”

He smiled, knowing your irritated façade would soon fade. He caressed your jaw gently, leaning down to capture your lips. A muffled sigh escaped you, your heart fluttering. Endearingly, his lips slowly coaxed yours to dance.
Your small hands gripped his sweater tightly, pulling him closer. His gentle caress soon became a controlling grip. His starved lips devouring your own hastily.
Gasping, you peaked and eye open as he pushed you onto the counter, knocking over a glass of water. You drew back, your gaze stern.
He ignored you, his lips trailing over your exposed collarbone. Your fingers wove into his soft hair, yanking harshly. He met your gaze, wincing slightly.

“You have to clean this up-”

“Later” he mumbled, chasing after your lips once again.

You smiled into the kiss, moaning quietly.
Jaehyun’s large hands moved to your thighs, agilely guiding your lithe legs to wrap around his slender waist. You shifted, your core pressing to his confined manhood. His lips stuttered, parting in awe. You introduced your sly tongue to his own, draping your arms over his broad shoulders.
Suddenly, a phone rang loudly, the obnoxious cry making you knit your brows together. You reached into the back pocket of Jaehyun’s jeans carefully. His lips left your own, his stature straightening.

“It’s Doyoung” you remarked.

He snatched his phone from you, hugging your head into his soft sweater, smothering you.

“Hey” he casually answered, ignoring your pathetic writhing.

“My hair!” you hollered, your hands quickly finding their way under his sweater.

Desperately, you attempted to tickle him, grinning as he let out a weak laugh, releasing you.

“What are you doing?” Doyoung questioned.

You slid from the wet granite counter, pouting as your moist jeans rode up uncomfortably.

“Nothing-” Jaehyun assured, “You should see (Y/n) right now… she’s so wet.”

Jaehyun snickered quietly as Doyoung stuttered.

“I never get a break” you muttered quietly, striding toward the bathroom, rolling your eyes.

anonymous asked:

Someone hurts Karen (like mugs her or something) and Frank hunts them down and as he's hunting them down, he realizes that he's in love with her? (for the prompt thing, I hope it makes sense)

I have one that kinda fits that one already, here, it’s actually on my favorites, but it lacks some aspects of our prompt, so it was my pleasure to write this one. 


He barged in through the door, angry, so fucking angry, Jessica even raised her eyebrows when he walked past her.

“Where is she?” he asked the dark haired woman, who pointed behind him.

“Bedroom.” He turned to walk in and heard her sitting down on the couch again. “Slow down, she’s fine.”

He didn’t. Only when he reached her door, to knock, opening it when he heard the “come in.”

She smiled at him and he felt his chest tightening inside him. His face must have shown it, because she shook her head while he walked to her.

“Frank, don’t. I’m ok.”

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anonymous asked:

So, Yuri Plisetsky was a pretty isolated kid, so what if he never got chickenpox as a kid? What if he gets them now. The day after he performs. And it's /bad/. Can I see Viktor, Yuuri, and Otabek taking care of him? And a sick miserable Yuri too tired to care? It'd also be great if you could throw in some homesickness from missing his grandpa in there.

WARNING: descriptions of vomit below

read the warning

read the warning

read the warning

okay, you’ve been warned!  enjoy the fic!

When Otabek got a call from Yuri the day after the Grand Prix, he wasn’t sure what he expected to hear.  He could say with certainty, though, that “I think I’m dying” was not it.

“What?”  Otabek asked flatly, his heart pounding in his chest in spite of the fact that he suspected an exaggeration.

“I’m dying, Beka, my body was infected by itchy red dots days ago and now they’re blistering and scabbing and my skin will probably fall off tomorrow and so I called to demand that you take care of Potya when I’m gone.  She’s a good friend of mine, so I’m sure you’ll like her, and she’ll like you, though she might bite at first-”

“Yura, are you talking about your cat?”  Otabek asked, frowning as he searched Yuri’s symptoms on his laptop.

“She’s much more than a cat, Otabek!  You can’t treat her as anything less than- oh, maybe I should just ask Lilia, she knows all of this already…  Yeah, I’ll do that, goodbye Otabek, you’ve been a great friend!”

“Wait, Yura, I don’t think-”  Otabek heard the click of Yuri hanging up and sighed.  “I don’t think you’re dying,” he mumbled to himself.  He called again, but Yuri didn’t pick up.  He supposed there was only one thing left to do: jump on his motorbike and ride over to the hotel where Yuri was staying.

When he got there, he was surprised to hear the voices of Viktor Nikiforov and Yuuri Katsuki coming from inside.  In fact, Yuuri was the one who answered the door.

“Otabek!  What are you-”  Otabek could practically see a lightbulb go off above Yuuri’s head as he realized and slapped a hand to his head.  “So Yurio called you, too, then?”

Otabek nodded, and moved to go inside, only to be stopped by Yuuri.

“Have you ever had chickenpox?”  Yuuri’s eyebrows drew together, worry lining his face.  “If not…”

Otabek understood.  For better or worse, he had contracted chickenpox as a child, so he nodded, and then followed Yuuri inside the hotel room.

Yuri was on the couch, covered in blisters and looking absolutely miserable.  All of his energy regarding spreading the news of his impending death seemed to have completely disappeared.  Viktor, who sat on the arm of the couch, offered him a glass of water.  Yuri refused, but quickly caved as he realized that Viktor wasn’t going to let it go immediately.

That’s what scared Otabek the most: Yuri was normally so stubborn, it was terrifying to see him give up so quickly.

“How’s he doing?”  Yuuri asked, walking over and brushing Yuri’s hair out of his face.  The boy blinked blearily, for once not even bothering to glare at the Japanese skater, spilled the glass of water down his shirt, and immediately started crying.  Viktor’s eyebrows knit together as Yuuri calmed the blond.

“About that good,” Viktor said.  He turned to Otabek.  “Don’t worry, though, he’ll be okay!”

Otabek nodded, only half-convinced.  He helped Yuuri remove Yuri’s wet shirt, and put a hand to Yuri’s heated and swollen face.  The younger boy flinched, but didn’t even bother to pull away.

“Viktor, if this gets much worse, we’ll have to take him to the hospital,” Yuuri said.  He dabbed Yuri’s face with a wet cloth, but the sick boy didn’t even seem to notice.

“Beka?”  Yuri croaked, belatedly acknowledging his friend’s presence.  Otabek smiled.

“Hello, Yura,” he said.  “How are you feeling?”

Yuri made a face.  “Tired.  Sick.”

Otabek didn’t think that a two word response like that could possibly be very helpful, but, judging by the way his head whipped around, Yuuri begged to differ.

“Viktor,” Yuuri said, voice more commanding than normal.  “Get a bucket.  Or a trashcan.  Or a shopping bag- anything.”

Viktor was frozen for a moment, and though Yuuri didn’t take his eyes off of Yuuri, he must have sensed the older man’s inaction.

“Now, Vitya.”

After that, Viktor didn’t question Yuuri any more.  He found a large plastic salad bowl in the kitchen and brought it back to his fiancé.  “Is this-”

“That works,” Yuuri confirmed, taking the bowl.  He then turned to Otabek.  “Can you help him sit up?”

Otabek nodded, too intimidated by Yuuri’s current presence to refuse, and put his hand on Yuri’s bare back.  The sick boy was limp as a rag doll, but somehow Otabek was able to get him into a seated position.  As soon as he did so, he felt Yuri’s muscles tense.  

Then Yuri let out a low whine, bent over at the waist, and threw up.  Yuuri had the bowl ready, and sick splashed into it, sloshing around.  The sight and smell of it made Otabek’s stomach churn, but he forced himself to keep it together for Yuri’s sake.  The younger boy vomited again, and Otabek rubbed Yuri’s back as he choked on puke.  Tears streamed down his face as he coughed violently, eventually hacking so hard that more bile spilled over his lips, despite his stomach being nearly empty.

“I want-”  Yuri gasped and gagged again.  “Want my grandpa,” he managed to choke out miserably.

“Just breathe, Yura,” Viktor murmured.  He held Yuri’s hair out of the way gingerly, making sure not to pull on it.  Yuri didn’t respond.  In fact, as soon as he was done spewing, he drifted off to sleep, tears running down his face as he continued to mumble about missing his grandpa.

Otabek was left feeling helpless and scared as the two adults in the room exchanged worried glances.  After a minute, Yuuri turned to Otabek.

“Otabek, I think we’re going to have to take him to the hospital.  He’s going to be just fine, but we want to make sure he feels better as soon as possible.  Do you want to come with us?”

Otabek hesitated.  “Is it… alright?”

At that, Yuuri smiled.  “I think Yuri would appreciate it if you did.”

“Okay,” Otabek said quickly.  He didn’t have to think about it; Yuri was his friend, and he would do anything he could to make him happy.

Knit the hurt away 😭
I feel like crying..I knit
I picked up the phone to call and instead I knit
I can’t sleep, because I’m already sleep
because this is a nightmare…I knit.
I start chanting the pattern to shift my focus away from the overwhelming ache in my chest
“Slip 1, knit 1, pass the slipped stitches over, knit 1 into slipped stitch” repeat, repeat, repeat until the tears dry up. Until the heartbeat slows down. Knit the pain away

#shareyourknits #makealong #ggmadeit #madeunique #yarnho #orange #orangelovers #woolandthegang

anonymous asked:

You said somewhere you'd consider writing about dynamics between specific characters (I think?) Would you talk about the one between Keith and Pidge? I really want to see them interact more, and I was wondering if you'd picked up anything from what we've got

So at this point we haven’t seen too much from Pidge and Keith interacting directly. So I’m gonna break that down.

(I’d appreciate it if you didn’t tag this as the ship)

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ceylon-morphe286  asked:

How would the axis react to s/o telling them she wants to get pregnant

It was a regular morning. Ludwig was all fancy in his suit and tie. You leaned against the counter in your own work clothes. He took a sip of coffee as you sighed. “Ludwig.” Your husband grunted. “I want to start a family with you.”

Ludwig froze and the mug fell to the ground in slow motion it seemed. It burst and coffee flew everywhere. “You want to have a baby?” His words sounded mechanical. You nodded. “Is there a handbook when it comes to that?” he choked out.

You watched the children play with each other out your window of your house. The laundry you were folding with your husband, Kiku, was nearly gone. “Hey, Kiku. Let’s have a baby.”

He stopped folding for a second. His eyes were cold, calculating. Finally, he talked. “Okay.” A light smile conquered his face. “Let’s have a baby.”

🇮🇹North Italy:
You had been dating Feliciano for three years. All you wanted was to start a family with him, married or not. As he sat across from you at the fancy restaurant, he smiled dreamily. “What are you thinking about?” you asked.

“How much I love you.” He reached across the table and held your hand. His adoring eyes calmed you if anything.

“Then this’ll be easy.” You grabbed his hand in return. “Feliciano, I want to get pregnant.”

Your boyfriend went a little frigid. His smile faltered before picking back up. One could only expect a negative answer. “Okay. Let’s start trying to have a child!”

The wind whipped your hair around as you stood on the roof of your apartment building. It was you me thinking place. “Hey, (y/n), what are you doing?” your boyfriend called from the hatch.

“Just thinking, Gilbert.” Within seconds, you could feel his presence beside you. “Gilbert. Do you want to start a family with me?”

You looked up just in time to see his bright smile grow. “Yes! I’ve been wanting to ask the same question for ages now!” He kissed your lips and pranced a bit.

🇮🇹South Italy:
Without Lovino’s knowledge, you had been trying to get pregnant for weeks. You had poked holes in the condoms you guys used and even went off the pill, but nothing worked. It would’ve been easier if you could’ve just told Lovino what you wanted. Yet that was too complicated.

So there you sat, crying on the bathroom floor because the latest test was negative. You heard the front door slam and hurried to hide the evidence, but he had heard you. “What’s wrong?” He dropped his case to the floor and kneeled. Lovino then spotted the test and tried to wrestle it out of your hands. “(Y/n), its negative. Why are you crying?”

His brows knitted. “Because I want to have a goddamned baby with you Lovi!” His face went a little steely and dropped his gaze. “And I thought it’d be easier to ‘accidentally’ get pregnant.”

“Is that really what you want?” he asked while standing up and chucking the test into the reach. You nodded up at him. “Okay. Let’s make a baby.” Lovino helped you up and led you to the bathroom with promises of a baby by the end of it.

anonymous asked:

How would the paladins comfort their crying s/o?

;;ty for sending!!! i lov lov writing these kinds of things

Lance -

He snakes an arm around their waist, pulling them into an embrace as pained tears streamed down their cheeks, holding them close as they sob into his chest. Lance hates seeing his s/o cry, it feels as if someone were tearing his heart to ribbons. He isn’t even be able to maintain his cheerful facade any longer as he holds them, letting them spill out their emotions freely in his arms. Pulling away isn’t even on his mind as he murmurs to them soft reassurances, stroking their hair feebly until they manage to calm down enough to talk about it. He’s extremely patient with them, only set on drying their tears. 

Shiro -

His hands rest on either side of his s/o’s face, cupping their cheeks gently as he examines their features, asking repeatedly if they’re alright. The void, glassy look in their eyes breaks his heart, worry heating him up from head to toe. He brushes away their tears with the pads of his thumbs before pulling them close, letting them weep against the fabric of his shirt. Shiro holds them undeniably tight, he wishes more than anything that he could stop the tears from escaping their eyes any longer. But all he can do is let them cry it all out for how ever long they need.

Hunk -

Worry shadows his features and he’s intertwining his fingers with theirs in an instant, asking and searching their eyes for an explanation as tears roll down their flushed cheeks. He gives their hands a comforting squeeze, his voice low and gentle as he lets them know that he’s there for them, even through difficult times like these. Hunk lets his s/o rest their head on his shoulder as they sob, and he settles for rubbing their back sympathetically until their cries turn into nothing but ragged breaths and sniffles. When they’ve calmed down, he keeps them close, asking them if there’s anything they’d want to help them feel better.

Keith -

He’d fall silent at the sight of his s/o crying, eyebrows knitting together with a mixture of desolation and worry as he rests a careful hand on their upper arms, tracing his hands downwards until they stopped to link their trembling fingers with his. Keith doesn’t know exactly what to do in a situation like this, but the pain of seeing his s/o crying in front of him brings it to him naturally. He pulls them in, arms wrapping around them and sheltering them from the outside conflicts as they whimper into his chest. Keith rocks them a little, murmuring reassurances into the crook of their neck.

Pidge -

Pidge is almost scared to get too close to their s/o, doubting themselves and feeling like they’d only make things worse and uncomfortable for them. But their sobs and attempts to wipe away their onslaught of tears is just too heartbreaking to keep distance from, and the next moment, Pidge is pulling them into a tight hug and gently willing them to know that they’re there, occasionally murmuring a ‘please stop crying, [Y/N]…’. Similar to Keith, they aren’t much of a touchy person. But when their s/o’s sobbing in their arms, Pidge doesn’t want to let go.

(Paul Lahote Imagine)

Request:  Imagine Paul lahote taking your virginity

Writer: Admin Rosa


You felt like a failure.     

As you sat in the shower, thoughts as heavy as anvils weighed on you. You have to pay that student loan bill or it will go to collections. But you can’t pay it before you pay for rent. But then you won’t have much money for food. I’m sure you can go to your parents for food. …you shouldn’t have to go to your parents for food. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath to try to rid yourself of these thoughts.     

 When you opened your eyes your gaze immediately drifted to the belly roll that hung on you like a pool doughnut. At least if you don’t have food then you might finally lose this flab.. You sighed. You’d never really liked the way you looked. Always thought that when people complimented you that they were lying. Never thought that you were good enough to have earned the attention of Paul. He was the biggest liar of them all. He always told you how pretty you looked, or that an outfit made your look sexy. But you never believed him. Not once.    

 Your eyes drifted to the scars on your leg. You were never really good at letting out your emotions in a healthy way. You tried journaling, talking to a shrink, and all of that, but nothing worked quite as well as when you cut. Nothing made you feel so good and so horrible at the same time. Weak. Your fingers traced the lines. A stronger person wouldn’t do this. A tear escaped down your face. You couldn’t take it. All of the fear and anxiety was just weighing down on you, so heavy you couldn’t get a good breath of air.
   Turning off the shower and drying off, you grabbed your trusty blade from its hiding place under the bathroom sink. You sat on the toilet seat and prepared to let it all out. You pressed the blade to your skin, parallel to the line of a previous cut. You like it when they matched. You dragged the blade down a bit. It stung like crazy. It made you stop. You lifted the blade to see. Small droplets of blood were forming where the blade had been. And already you could feel the anxiety oozing out of you. It was like all of the bad emotions that you couldn’t get out any other way were bleeding out of you, like sap from a tree. You smiled as the weight on your shoulders lessened a little bit. You went to continue but then-

 The bathroom door burst open and Paul stood in the doorway with a worried face. You looked up at him in horror as he saw the blade in your hand and the blood on your leg. In a second he was sitting on the floor beside you with a cloth pressed to your wound. His other hand quickly took the blade out of your hand before you knew what he did. You were afraid that he’d get mad at you. You were afraid that he might phase in the middle of your apartment. But instead he sat there, still as a statue with a sad look carved into his face.
   It stayed silent like that, with neither one of you knowing what to say, him on the floor, you naked on the toilet seat,  for a few long minutes. Then he spoke, so quietly, barely above a whisper, “Why didn’t you tell me? You could have talked to me.” You couldn’t look him in the eye.
   You shook your head, “I didn’t want to bother you.” You told the truth. he had far more important things to do for the pack.
   "Bother me? Y/N, you could never bother me. Especially with something as important as this.“ He tried.
   You snickered to yourself, saying the thing that the demon inside of you said, "I’m not important.”
   Paul reached up to cup your cheek and move your face to look at him. “You are important to me.” You just moved your head and pushed your face out of his hand. “You don;t believe me?” He questioned. “Hey!” He turned your legs so he was in front of you and moved them apart so that when he sat up on his knees he could move up to be as close to you as possible. Both of his hands went to cup your face and force you to look at him. But you kept you gaze away from his.
   "You are the most important person in my whole life. You are everything to me.“ He said with a tone of urgency and comfort. But he was growing frustrated. "Look at me!” his voice raised. Your eyes shot up to meet his and you immediately wished you hadn’t. His eyes were full of sorrow and concern. And it was your fault. You made him feel this way. Silent tears began to fall down your cheeks and you couldn’t do anything to stop them. Paul continued.
   "I love you.“ He said and his eyes softened. "You are the best person I know. You are kind. You are smart. You are funny…you don’t take any of my crap,” he chuckled trying to lighten things up a bit, “and you are beautiful. Exactly the way you are, you are beautiful. You are the most gorgeous person I have ever met, and will ever have the pleasure of meeting. And I know, that in a year from now, you will be beautiful, and in ten years from now, you will be beautiful, and even in fifty years from now, you will be beautiful. And in all of that time, I will love you, even more than I do right now.”
   By now the tears were pouring from your face. Paul leaned forward and kissed them away before placing a soft, chaste, loving kiss on your lips and pressed his forehead to yours. “I’m sorry.” you blubbered out, half speaking, half sobbing. “I’m so sorry.”
   Paul shook his head frantically, “No!” he said, and then kissed you, “No! Never be sorry for this. Don’t you dare be sorry for the way that you feel!” he kissed you again. You kissed back this time. One of his hands left your face and wrapped around your back, pulling you closer to him.
   "I love you, Paul.“ You said crying between kissed. Your hands knit their way through his hair.
   "I love you, Y/N.” Paul said when he pulled back and looked you in the eyes. “If you don’t believe my words, maybe I can show you.” He said more of a question. You could see it in his face that he was going to do whatever it took to prove to you that he loved you, his imprint, and no one was ever going to take your place. And you really wanted nothing more than to feel wanted. To feel adequate. Beautiful. And that was what Paul was offering. So you nodded. And Paul’s smile was bigger than you had ever seen it.
   The hand that he had around your back moved lower to your butt as he kissed you deeply, pulling you into him by your neck. His grip on you tightened and he picked you up and carried you out of the bathroom and to the bedroom where he let you down on the bed. In a swift motion his shirt came off and leaned into you to kiss you once more, gently nudging you back towards the pillows on the bed.
   He hovered over top of you, never stopping the kiss. He was propped up on one elbow while his other hand caressed your body. His warm touch ghosted down your side to your butt, giving it a cheeky squeeze, and then went to the back of your thigh, pushing your leg up to hug his waist. Then he went back up your torso and lightly cupped your breast, thumb quickly passing over your nipple before coming back up to the side of your head. he coaxed your head to the side so he could access your neck, leaving hot and wet kisses down to your collar bone. Your heart was racing already, with every touch of Paul’s hot hands you ached for more of him. Any thoughts of embarrassment or self consciousnesses left you. And you suddenly knew, in your heart, that Paul would always think you are beautiful. He would always want you. He would always love you. And with this realization you wrapped your arms around him and pulled him tight to your chest.


A/N: Admin Rosa sent this to me in an email. She is very sorry that she can’t finish it with smut, I would finish it with smut but I can’t write smut. She has writer’s block and is very sorry she can’t finish it. To the anon who requested this I hope you enjoy what Rosa did write. 

~Admin Madz 

Just A Normal Day In The Bangtan Household

Suga: And that children is how gramps got his swag

Jungkook: Um all you did was rap

Jin:*happily knitting a sweater*

Suga: Yah shut it

Jimin:*hugging jungkook* BORING..Kookie lets go cuddle and confess our love for each other

V:*Sitting on sugas lap* And i want a horse and a spot on your mixtape

Suga: Yah i’m not santa claus and what do you need a horse for when you have your uncle hoseok

Hoseok: Uh bitch wheres that mixtape of yours


Hoseok: Oh yeah somewhere in the void

V: Um yes you are you’re always eating the cookies and drinking the milk we put out for you every christmas and then you put out the presents

Jin:*hums louder*

Suga: Yeah.. well hate to break it to you kid but santa claus isn’t real

Jungkook:*trying to get out of his grasp* Love?! The only thing i’m confessing to you is a restraining order

Jimin:*chuckles* Kookie is so cute don’t try to deny whats real


Suga: No he’s not


Suga: What?!

V:*Starts to cry*

Suga: *just wants to sleep* Yah you better cut it out or i’m gonna take you to area 51 so they can operate on that alien head of yours

V:*Runs away screaming as he cries*

Hoseok:*smoking his blunt while he laughs*

Jungkook:*gets up and goes after V* TAETAE I’LL PROTECT YOU

Namjoon:*comes home* HONEY I’M HOM-

Jimin:*On his knees crying* JUNGKOOKIEEEEE

Jin:*snaps the knitting needles in half*DAMN YOU MIN YOONGI

Suga:*does not give a fuck*

Namjoon:*Quietly backs out the door and gets back in his car then drives away*

Tiny Plot Ideas Pt. 1
  • 1: Muse A and Muse B are part of a team, but their constant arguing causes problems. They have to pull it together for the sake of the team.
  • 2: Muse A confessed their love to Muse B, but was rejected.
  • 3: Muse B and Muse A pretend to be in a relationship for the purpose of an undercover mission.
  • 4: Muse B is cornered by a bully, but Muse A comes to the rescue.
  • 5: A prophecy foretold that Muse A would be the only one who could defeat the evil Muse B.
  • 6: Muse B is a super hero hiding their secret identity from Muse A.
  • 7: Muse A and Muse B watching a very sad movie. Muse A is crying.
  • 8: Muse B knits an ugly sweater and forces Muse A to wear it.
  • 9: Muse B is the leader of an organization. Muse A is their loyal second-in-command.
  • 10: Muse B is Muse A's hired body guard.
  • 11: Muse A saved Muse B's life. Muse B is honorbound to return the favor.
  • 12: Muse B is bitten by a zombie and has to be put down by Muse A.
  • 13: Muse A and Muse B as rivals in a competition or contest.
  • 14: Muse A and Muse B fighting together, back to back.
  • 15: Muse A with a hangover, but Muse B is feeling fine.
  • 16: Muse A gets a contract to assassinate Muse B.
  • 17: Muse A is a member of the royal family and Muse B is a lowly peasant.
  • 18: Muse A is the leader of an organization. Muse B is their loyal second-in-command.
  • 19: Muse A is trapped in a storm drain, and only Muse B can save them. However Muse B does not have the capabilities to do so, and must figure out a proper way.
  • 20: Muse A frequently has dreams or nightmares about Muse B.
Imagine Tom getting in a car accident and you find out from the news. Imagine the shock on his face when he wakes up to see you, his ex wife, crying by his bedside.

You were typing up your report for work when you glanced up at one of the tvs to see your ex-husband’s smiling face. You huffed and shook your head before focusing back on your report. You and Tom had been a modern Cinderella tale. You were a fan of his, and he had spotted you amongst the crowd at comic-con. It had been love at first sight, and you were both quickly married. However, it wasn’t meant to last. You loved Tom, but he was a workaholic. You got to see him more on your tv screen than in person. When you confronted Tom about this, it had blown out of proportions, and you both decided to separate.

“Hey, I know you don’t really talk to him, but is Tom okay?” one of your co-workers questioned as they leaned on one of the walls of your cubicle.

“What are you talking about?” you asked not looking up from your report.

“Um, y/n,” your co-worker said as they pointed to the tv. You rolled your eyes but spun around anyways. You heart froze as you took in the images on the screen. Tom’s car was crushed and on its side. Red text lined the bottom of the screen: Tom Hiddleston in Car Crash.


Tom slowly gained consciousness. Everything hurt. It had felt like he had been hit by a train. Someone was crying. Tom knitted his brow in confusion. Who would be crying? He slowly opened his eyes and turned his head to see you, clutching his hand as you sobbed.

“Y/n?” Tom whispered. Your head immediately perked up. 

“Oh, you’re awake,” you stated.

“What are you doing here?”

“Oh, well, the hospital called me,” you explained. “I’m still listed as your next of kin.” Tom looked over your teary face.

“Why are you crying?” You stuttered trying to explain. You dropped your head and played with your joined hands.

“I was so scared,” you confessed. “When I saw your car, I thought you might have been dead. Then the hospital called, and all I could think of was getting to you. To make sure you were ok. To make sure you were still in one piece.” You dropped your head to the bed. “I still love you,” you whispered. You felt Tom lift up your face for him to stare deeply into your eyes.

“I feel the same way.” Slowly, Tom pulled your face to his for his lips to gently brush over yours. You gasped and tried to deepen the kiss, but Tom hissed when you placed your hand on his shoulder.

“Sorry! Sorry! I am so sorry!” Tom chuckled before groaning in pain.

“Can we give us another go, Sweetheart?” Tom asked.

“I would like that,” you answered, kissing Tom’s hand with a smile.

Crying about craft supplies drabbles: Knitting supplies, for anon

“Look what came today!” Mabel sang to the webcam, hefting a large cardboard box into view.

“We wanted to wait so you could watch us open it,” Dipper added.

“Yeah! For warm fuzzies reasons and in case it’s another cursed relic you need to help us exorcise!”

“I promise,” Ford replied, “There’s absolutely nothing cursed about this package. Look! I didn’t even need to ward it!”

“You said you didn’t need to ward the one two boxes ago and that almost got us tried for witchcraft,” Dipper pointed out. “I know you’re still getting used to the rules in this dimension, but the postal service is threatening to cut us off.”

Ford laughed. “If they do, we’ll just have to find a new way of delivering mail. I know Fiddleford was thinking about repurposing that Pterodactyltron …”

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