damn doors

@arashikuro @kalix80 That year when “one stopped posting for year” (first Arashi Confession blog that died) is also the same year (2014) when Arashi fans on tumblr were not fighting with each other and were at peace and busy making Arashi dank memes.

So @arashikuro many of us honestly think this confession blog is blasphemy and toxic. So THANK GOD I blocked it.

If I were you guys, just block the blog, remove that pimple out of your screens.

Originally posted by chesutoberry

i love the versatility of glitter in magic. use it to symbolise the stars, the moon, magic itself! use it to curse someone or send them happiness, edible glitter! the seaweed glitter in lush bathbombs! connect to a deity or make yourself feel like one! Use glitter nail polish to paint sigils! Fairies!!!!!

historically glitter used to be smashed up bits of glass (sometimes mirrors, depends on the source tbh) and even if you’re using plastic, seaweed, or mica glitter it can be symbolic of that connection, meaning you can use it for even more stuff

idk. glitter is just really great.

Iconic™ Kaz Brekker Moments

-’Kaz was just glad he used the damn door.”

-“You can put him in a coffeepot for all I care.”

-”Even worse, if I fail, I don’t get paid.”

-”You might actually have had to uncurl that lip and treat me with something closer to respect.”

-Ripping Oomen’s eyeball out and shoving his handkerchief in the socket.

-”I’ll just hire Matthias’ ghost to kick your ghost’s ass.”

-”Hold the book up so we don’t have to look at your ugly face.” (Kaz, be nice to Jesper)

-Nina: “And I can tell you’ve never given enough thought to your haircut.”

Kaz: *runs a self-conscious hand through his hair*

(only Nina. Only Nina can make Kaz in to a seventeen year old, concerned about his haircut)

-”Jacob fucking Hertzoon”

-Talking tree jokes??????

-Matthias: “We go from aspirant to novice drüskelle in the ceremony at the sacred ash.”

Kaz: “Where the tree talks to you.”

-Kaz: “The Dregs need a better initiation (I’m over here wondering what the Dregs’ initiation is)”

Matthias: This is only one part of Hringkälla.”

Kaz: “Yes, I know, then the tree tells you the secret handshake.”

-”Of course you don’t [like speculation]. You like things you can see. Like piles of snow and benevolent tree gods.”

-Or you were dead wrong about Matthias and you’re going to pay for all those talking tree jokes

-’They blew up the lab. I definitely did not tell them to blow up the lab.’

3

“On December 9, 1967 in New Haven, Connecticut.  Jim Morrison was booked on charges of indecency, public obscenity, disturbing the peace and resisting arrest. This arrest was portrayed in Oliver Stone’s The Doors movie. Jim had met a girl in his dressing room and wanted a bit more privacy so he went into a shower stall with her. A police officer spotted them in the bathroom and told them they had to leave. Jim told the officer he was in the band and told him to go away. The cop got pushy with Jim, Jim tried to push him away and then the cop maced him. The police wanted to arrest Jim on the spot but were afraid it would incite a riot if the concert was cancelled. During the last song, "Backdoor Man”, Jim told a story about what happened backstage. The cops shut the music down and came directly onstage to arrest him.“

THE STYDIA KISS (and hug)- an Extra™ frame by frame analysis

ok so we start out with this shit. even before this frame, dude is staring at them Martin lips like he’s in the middle of the desert and they’re the only water for miles. Then we get here and they both go in OPEN goddamn MOUTH for this kiss. she is PUCKERED for him. She was puckered ten feet ago, she was puckered when she walked in the damn door, hell, she was puckered 3 months ago. She got her tongue fucking ready to dock at Port Stilinski Lips.

She comes in fucking Little Caesar’s Hot ‘N Ready with the hands on the neck. goddamn. And they are PRESSED into each other. If they were kissing any deeper they would swallow each other. Which now, come to think of it, might have been their goal.

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buzz | 3.0 (m) ✓

Originally posted by jeonbase

• pairing: min yoongi x reader
• genre/warnings: smut, 69 (lord have mercy on my soul, I have never written this and it’s been years since I did it irl, so, yolo), face riding, girl on top, dirty talk, multiple orgasms, non-penetrative sex toy (the vibrator’s back, bitches), and some fluff chucked in for good measure
• words: 6,529
→ summary: you’ve been dating your best friend-turned-boyfriend for a few months now. What happens when he can’t nap because of a — as he so lovingly put it, raging boner…?

» 1.0 | 2.0 | 3.0  ✓

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keyed.

Originally posted by jiminnieseyesmile

3.8k words

members: jungkook, oc - reader

genre: fluff

warnings: language

You were sick and tired of your attractive idiot neighbor blocking your driveway.

a/n: i felt like writing this weekend and this happened surprise surprise. this is what happens when i’m buzzed off of two venti macchiatos please leave me feedback TT


“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

You blocked out the angry voice shouting at you from your neighbors now open door. The hurried footsteps were getting closer but you pretended you didn’t hear, continuing to drag your key along the shiny black BMW blocking your driveway. Before you could reach the back tires a hand grasped your wrist, turning you around to face your irritating neighbor.

“Oh! Hey there, neighbor,” you grinned, innocently eyeing your neighbor head to toe. He was dressed casually with his hair tousled as though he’d just woken up. His jaw was tense as his hands tightly held your wrist, nothing but anger found in his eyes. You weren’t sure of his first name but had seen him a few times in silent passing. He was relatively new to the neighborhood, keeping to himself along with his roommate you caught quick glimpses of as well. The two had moved in a month ago and you kept to yourself as well, not bothering to play nice and whip up a housewarming desert you couldn’t even properly bake. It wasn’t until a week ago that you realized your neighbors weren’t exactly your cup of tea. They had people over constantly whether they were attending their overcrowded house parties, movie nights or simply staying over till the sun came back up. It seemed whenever the two had guests around their parking lot quickly become full, causing a new issue to arrive. You noticed the brunette, tall one seemed to have a kick out of parking right in front of your light blue beetle making it impossible for you to maneuver around his pricey sports car. The parties seemed to hit an all time high and you constantly found yourself trapped in your own driveway. You left sticky notes on his windshield, kindly asking him to stop blocking your spot and occasionally he would but it wouldn’t take long for him to fall back into his routine. It wasn’t until he made you late to your job earning you a lengthy lecture from your boss, that you felt you’d had enough, storming outside to drag your keys along his prized possession.

Your decision making skills weren’t the best when you were angry.

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Heartbreaker

“Here.”

Cas reads the label and turns the tape over in his hands. “I don’t have a cassette player,” he concludes as he holds the cassette back out to Dean.

Dean gets up from the kitchen table and pushes it back toward Cas until it’s right up against his chest. “I’ve been in that truck. There’s a cassette player.”

“Well, I don’t know how to–”

“Cas,” Dean says, leveling him with a glare. “Take the damn tape.”

Cas flips it over in his hands once again, looking down at it studiously. When he looks back up to thank Dean, he finds himself alone. He looks around the kitchen, but Dean is gone.

He tucks the cassette into the inner pocket of his coat and pats it once to feel the solid weight against his chest.

****************

“What’s that?” Sam asks jovially as he joins Cas in the library. 

Cas tucks the cassette away quickly and clears his throat. “Dean gave it to me. It’s a cassette.”

Sam looks up quickly from his computer, a shocked and amused expression on his face. “A cassette? He gave you a cassette?” 

Castiel squints at him. “Yes?”

Sam looks down at his keyboard, huffs a short laugh, straightens up a bit in his seat. “What’s on it?”

“It says his top 13 Led Zeppelin traxx, ‘tracks’ with two x’s,” Cas recites from memory.

“You haven’t listened to it yet?”

“I…no, I haven’t.”

Sam nods as he says, “Well, uh, you should. Dean doesn’t just–he doesn’t even let anybody touch his tapes, man. That’s…a really big deal that he gave you one.”

Cas presses his hand to his chest. “I’m not sure he meant for it to be a big deal.”

“Yeah, well.” Sam shrugs. “Listen to it, at least.”

****************

Cas is sitting in his truck, holding the tape in his hand, staring at the radio and wondering where to put the damn thing.

The passenger door creaks open and shuts. Castiel doesn’t look over.

“Oh fuck, I was wrong,” Dean says with a small laugh. “There’s no cassette player in here. C’mon.” He doesn’t wait before getting right back out and heading over to where the Impala is parked on the other end of the garage.

After a moment, Cas follows him. He hesitantly gets in on the passenger side and hands the tape over to Dean.

A couple of seconds of silence pass before the music quietly pours through the Impala’s speakers. Dean leans his head back against the seat and puts his arm up on the backrest of the bench. His fingertips brush lightly against Cas’ shoulder.

[listen]

Cas can’t quite hear all the lyrics, but he knows it’s something about being lonely and missing someone and he wants to ask Dean when he made this tape, who he had in mind when he made this tape, who this was really meant for, but the words get stuck in his throat.

As the music washes over him, he closes his eyes and leans his head back as well. After a minute, a hand brushes through his hair and Dean begins to hum.

Cas opens his eyes and looks over, and Dean’s head lolls to the side as he gives him a lazy grin. 

“You like it?” Dean asks, his hand still carding through Cas’ hair.

Cas prefers his own music, but maybe he could get used to this as well. “I like it,” he concedes.

“Good,” Dean replies, his head falling back against the seat once more. “I could sit here all day.”

Cas scoots a little bit closer to the driver’s side. “I could, too.”

fall

or…lena doesn’t stop believing in the one person who believed in her

(or…the terrible thing i wrote to get rid of writer’s block and it’s long and sad but has a happy ending)

Supergirl dies on a Wednesday.

Sometimes, when she’s alone in her office in the wee hours of the morning, still in yesterday’s clothing and unsure when she’d last eaten, she thinks about that, the utter normalcy of losing National City’s hero on a Wednesday. Somehow, the death on such a boring day of the week provides a sort of stark contrast that Lena has trouble wrapping her head around. After all, surely the hero and pride of National City would fall in a blaze of glory on a Friday night, a Sunday afternoon, even a Monday morning during rush hour.

But a Wednesday? Some time between mid-morning and noon? When nothing was happening except for the drudge of the week, the tireless churning of society?

She doesn’t understand it—has tried to come to terms with it with very little success. In her weakest moments, when she’s staring down the end of a bottle of whiskey or wine (before Jess or Maggie or even James Olsen pry the bottle from her fingertips and help her get home), she thinks the very banality of Supergirl’s death is evidence of its unnecessary nature, its needless, pointless, meaningless, asinine

Supergirl dies on a Wednesday.

By Friday, the President herself comes to National City to mourn the fallen hero. She talks about the few short conversations she’s had with Supergirl, how everyone should be inspired and follow Supergirl’s wonderful example. A true hero, an exemplary citizen.

(Lena doesn’t go to the ceremony. She and Alex spend that afternoon in Kara’s apartment, sitting on Kara’s couch, Alex stoically staring at the television screen with silent tears running down her cheeks and Lena gripping her hand so tightly she thinks she’ll break fingers.  

After that, Lena doesn’t see much of Alex at all.)

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