full of nasties

Another Member Walking in on Them Having Sex: BTS


Oh God, he would become so flustered. But like, not in a way that `Oh shit someone saw us having sex`, it was more like `Oh shit I forgot to lock the door`. Like, he would be proud of the state he put you in, though he will probably beat the member with a spatula to a half-conscious state.


YoonGi would probably mumble something incoherent after giving the member a drunk stare full of dark lust as he’d bite into your flesh, making you moan and yell at the same time. Besides that, he wouldn’t give a fuck.


*quietly closes his eyes*takes in a deep breath* “You’re not angry, HoSeok, you’re not angry…”

Rap Monster:

Oh Boi… He would be pissed. So. Fucking. Angry. You were his, and only his eyes could see you in that kind of way. Only his ears were supposed to hear you making those sounds. He would come up with a severe punishment for that member.


He would just smirk at that member, having no remorse and shame. So what that someone saw you all fucked up, it was because of JiMin and that’s all that mattered to the man.


Will try to cover you up with the bed sheets so that the other member wouldn’t be able to see you naked, but that doesn’t mean that he will stop. If it won’t be in his ability to cover you up, so be it, means he’ll have to come up with a plan how to erase the member’s memory.


Too deep in his zone to actually notice or care, continuing to drill into you at full pace, whispering all the nasties while he still had the courage to do so.

If anybody knows how to navigate the mall in zone 2 of the ONE demo it’d be really great for me to know because dang this is way harder than I thought and I’ve been wandering for a long time.

  • ship: *exists*
  • me: okay, it's okay i guess---
  • shippers: *are full of nasty veil hateful people, who will bully anyone who doesn't ship said ship, forces the ship down other peoples throats, acts like they run the fandom, erases and shits on other characters bc of their ship and are all around toxic to a fandom*
  • me: ya know what? nvm i hate that ship, that ship is awful.

sweet dainty cosette who always wears long sleeves at her job as a kindergarten teacher to hide her full tattoo sleeves from nasty parents.

sweet dainty cosette who surprises all her colleagues when she pulls on her motorcycle helmet and rides away on the bike that she built.

sweet dainty cosette who meets grantaire and bahorel because she boxes at the same gym as them.

sweet dainty cosette who can take care of her damn self.

sweet dainty badass cosette who knows those things arent contradictory.

Tsukkiyama is such a soft couple ♥

♥ You’d think their relationship is full of nasty comments and snickering, but actually it’s quite the opposite.
♥ It’s full of soft kisses and touching and cuddling and quietly moaning while gently getting caressed.
♥ They talk really quietly to each other, like Yamaguchi just gets so calm that he can’t even force himself to be hyper! When he’s with friends he is kinda loud and excited but with Tsukishima it seems more like he is whispering and in a state of dreaming.
♥ Everyone on the team thinks it’s kind of adorable but on the outside of course they are more like “Oh my gosh, get a room!” or “Can you stop being like all lovey-dovey?”
♥ Also they have no problems with sharing secrets with each other. It just feels so natural to them to always voice whatever is going on in their heads.
♥ There are literally no big fights. They just can’t get into an argument or any drama, even if they really try. They are just too chill about each other.
♥ “Tsukki, I am really scared that all the girls will occupy you on Valentines Day again…” - “Don’t worry, we’ll share the chocolate afterwards!” - “That’s not what I meant!” - “Well, I could also kiss you in front of everyone so they won’t bother me at all.” - “But… We wouldn’t get any chocolate.”
♥ Yamaguchi would have never thought this, but Tsukishima can be really interested in other peoples life. Usually he holds long monologues and doesn’t really expect Tsukishima to listen, but when he stops talking he would literally get follow-up questions and he is always so confused? Like, did he really attentively listen to all this rambling?
♥ Dates for them are usually just going for a walk. They’ll walk to the park, through the shopping mall, to the next city. They won’t even talk to each other, Yamaguchi just points something out to him a few times, like a really big bird sitting on a bench or the new movie they wanted to watch. Tsukishima will just smile at him, watch the bird for a few moments, buy the DVD and then silently starts walking again, pulling his boyfriend with him.
♥ Sometimes they just sit next to each other, stare in each others faces and just start touching each other. Like ears, hair, nose, chin, shoulders. Just touching and caressing, but never losing eye contact until Tsukishima usually closes his eyes, leans forward for a kiss and hugs him for a really long time.

Complicated Ain’t the Half of It (Preview)

Originally posted by jungk0oksthighs

Pairing: Jungkook x Jimin x Hoseok x Reader ft. rest of bts

Genre: Smut Gang!au Criminal!au 

Warnings: Gangs, violence,  future smut 

Summary: Either you’re met with someone you can easily get information out of or you’re met with a ruthless killer with no remorse, this time you seem unsure. They’re both young, rich, they have to feel something. You open the door to be met with chocolate eyes, uncharacteristically shimmering with amusement as they rake up and down your body. No remorse detected. Great. 

“Jeon Jungkook, male, 5’10 (you snort), 145 pounds, Born September 1, 1997, age 19  is that correct?” you don’t make eye contact as you stare at your paper looking to see if there are any errors.

“Correct” He hums, amusement and hints of laughter lace his voice and you cant help but snap your head pointedly up at him.

“Want to tell me what’s so funny Mr. Jeon?” You fold your fingers together and place them on the table, he imitates you mockingly.

“It’s just, you’re so young” He ponders leaning forward a little, you have to force yourself to note retract and to keep eye contact.

“I could say the same for you.” You laugh “You’re not really making a good impression Mr. Jeon”

“I could say the same for you” He mimics “Do they just let under qualified girls run around here all the time? I’d love to help out” He smirks his voice like honey. You scoff rolling your eyes

“Now whats a pretty little thing like you doing messing around with bad boys like us?” He uses a baby voice and your blood boils. You stare at him in amused shock.

“Flattery will get you nowhere” You chuckle.

“Don’t think that was a complement princess” His smirk is a full blown nasty smile and you have to hold yourself back from slapping him.

“Either way, you’re the one handcuffed, I’m not and you’re not asking the questions here” You flip through the pages of the file avoiding his eyes. You think you hear him mumble something along the lines of “that’s kinky princess” but you decide to ignore it.

“So your father is the infamous gang leader that’s been running around messing with the city correct?” You bite your pen cap off and begin writing.

“Hmmm, last time I checked my father was the head of Jeon Inc., might want to check your files again” He responds smugly.

“Cute.” You cap your pen and place it on the table “And your partner, erm, a mister Park Jimin and his father are also heads of said gang”

“Sorry to burst your bubble Miss” he squints to read your name on your badge “Y/L/N, but I don’t think I’ll be answering your questions until I see my lawyer”

You groan rolling your eyes as you reach for your walkie talkie. “Yeah, are you done? oh cool ok get in here please, we can have lunch later.”

“You can’t do anything” Jungkook huffs smirking wildly

“Aw we’re not scared are we” You tease him “don’t worry, no ones touching a strand on your pretty rich head. I’m just getting a friend in here.”

USMNT captain denounces Trump and the Muslim ban

Ok I’m sorry but the fact that people get into like full blown nasty fights on the Internet about fictional characters is like borderline hilarious to me, cuz like shit dude I love my trash children as much as the next person but I ain’t got the energy to defend someone who don’t exist

On the subject of Jellal’s arc

I’ve seen some Jellal commentary lately that’s kinda raised my eyebrows. There’s several points I want to make here and to avoid a tangental rant I’m going to address the biggest three issues I have.

  • Redemption. What does this mean in Fairy Tail as a manga and what does it mean for Jellal specifically?
  • Jellal vs. Siegrain. Is this a versus or are they both pieces of the same whole?
  • Moving forward. Where can Jellal go from here?

Keep reading

I’ve seen this post going around a lot, and there are many arguments in favour of resisting Donald Trump’s agenda,

but this is easily the worst one.

No the Nazis weren’t nice people you imbeciles. The Nazis were the worst supremacists of any kind that living memory has to offer. They “ignored” politics so much that they voted in possibly the maddest chancellor Germany has ever had. Because they were Nazis. They didn’t turn their heads as their neighbours were dragged away - they were the ones who dobbed those neighbours in. Because they were Nazis.
If your hypothetical mum ever got along with them, then she clearly had exactly the same surface traits such as skin colour and not-being-the-wrong-sexuality that they admired, and she must have refused, through ignorance or lack of sympathy, to see the very real and frightening things they did to the Wrong People.

This is nothing more than an excuse for self-styled “resisters” to say “It’s okay for us to be awful people sometimes because it means we’re doing the right thing!” No it’s not okay to be awful. Not being awful is one of the things that separates you from the Nazis. I know full well that indulging your nastier side in the interest of “resisting” is going to win you neither battles nor friends, and you know full well that being nasty is absolutely no guarantee that you are doing the right thing.

But even if it did make a difference. Even if it was okay to be nasty in these situations. How screwed up is your position that you have to defend it by saying “Well actually the Nazis were pretty nice people, when you got to know them personally”?

Miscellaneous Adrien Agreste Headcanons
  • He’s super touchy-feely. Of course this is kinda canon with the shoulder thing, but let’s take that to the extreme. I think his mom was probably the same, and when she left/died/whatever, and his dad got all cold or was cold to begin with, he was starved for it. So he’ll casually throw his arm over Nino or Marinette or other friends, and he hugs people a lot, and he’ll put his elbow on other people’s shoulders. (people love it)
  • During at least one of his fights with Gabriel, he left the house in the most atrocious outfit he can possibly put together, just to spite his father.
  • He’s also left with the most amazing outfit he can possibly put together - with clothes that were designed by his father’s rivals. Again, just to spite his old man.
  • He knows full well that Chloe is nasty, and he doesn’t like the way she treats other people, but he also knows that she’s a good person at heart and hopes that one day she’ll realize it, too. That’s why he’s still friends with her, not just because they grew up together.
    • Also they grew up together, and he would play dolls and dress-up with her all the time

More under the cut

Keep reading

Keeping clean was one thing that seemed to quickly fall by the wayside these days.  Brandon did the best he could, lest he start to smell, but usually that meant washing with soap and a wash cloth and a cup full of water.  But today when he’d been out by himself for a little while, looking for things he could bring back to the pack, he’d stumbled across an in-ground pool behind an abandoned house.  The opportunity to actually wash off all the sweat and grime (and, in places, remnants of Dean’s dried cum) was too good to pass up.  He broke a window to get into the house and take soap and a towel, because it wasn’t like anyone was going to miss it, and took a bath in the pool’s shallow end.  The water was cold (no heater anymore, he supposed) but it was warm enough out that he didn’t care.

He climbed out of the pool five minutes later (he wanted to stay longer, but if he did, Dean might wonder where he was) and wrapped a towel around his waist.  He was walking towards his clothes (lamentably not as clean as he now was) when he heard footsteps and looked up.


I generally don’t like the reappropriation of misogynistic slurs (i.e. bitch, slut, whore, cunt, nasty woman), but 19 year old Nina Donovan puts the term “nasty” into perspective in a humorous & powerful way, adding sarcastic emphasis when using the term.

Full transcript:

i’m a nasty woman

not as nasty as a man who looks like he bathes in cheeto dust

not as nasty as a man who is a diss track to America

from back to broken back he stomped on

his words are just white noise ruining this national anthem

i’m not as nasty as confederate flags being tattooed across my city

maybe the south actually is going to rise again

or maybe it never really fell

because we’re still drowning in vanilla-coated power

slavery has just been reinterpreted into the prison system

blacks are still in shackles and graves just for being black

in front of people who see melanin as animal skin

tell me of a decade that didn’t have traces of white hoods

burning of our faith in humanity

i’m not as nasty as a swastika painted on a pride flag

and i didn’t know that devils could be resurrected

but i feel hitler in these streets

a mustache traded in for a toupee

with nazis renamed “the cabinet”

electroconversion therapy the new gas chamber

shaming the gay out of america

turning rainbows into suicide notes

i’m not as nasty as racism or fraud, homophobia or lies or transphobia

sexual assault, white supremacy, white privilege, ignorance or misogyny

not as nasty as treating girls like pokemon before their bodies have even evolved

not as nasty as your own daughter being your favorite sex symbol

like wet dreams infused with your own genes

but yet, i’m a nasty woman

i’m a crusty, funky, bitchy, loud, nasty woman

not as nasty as the combo of trump and pence

being served as an option in my voting booth

but i’m nasty like the battles women fought to get me in that voting booth

nasty like the fight to close the wage gap

nasty like conversations trying to convince people there is such thing as a wage gap

remind me this is only because women usually go into lower paying fields

so why did last year’s top actresses make less than half of what the top actors did

do you realize that the world cup shelf of the us men’s soccer team is as empty as trump’s promises but the women’s team has scored three world cups

last year brought in 20 million more dollars in revenue than the men’s team but is still paid 75% less

see even when women go into high paying careers their wages are still cut with blades sharpened by testosterone

tell me why the work of a black woman and a hispanic woman, is only worth 63 and 54 percent of a white man’s paycheck

this is not just a feminist myth, this is inequality

so we are not here to be debunked, we are here to be respected, we are here to be nasty

like bloodstained bedsheets in case you forgot women can’t choose when or if they get their periods

trust me if we could, we would

we don’t like having to throw away our favorite pairs of underwear

but last time i checked, men can choose to not have sex, and they know how to live without a full head of hair

so tell me, why are tampons and pads still taxed but viagra and rogaine isn’t?

is your erection really worth more than protecting the messy parts of our womanhood

is the thinning of your hair really more embarrassing than the period staining of my jeans

i know it seems petty to complain about a few extra cents, but it’s just the finishing touch on a pile of change i have yet to feel in this country

so don’t try to justify our injustices with excuses that smell like your security where you’re walking alone to your bathroom, or the car, and down the street

security’s what my eyes have yet to see they’re too busy praying to my feet so you don’t mistake eye contact for wanting physical contact

i’ve been zipping up my smile so you don’t think i wanna unzip your jeans

i know you forget to examine the reflection of your own privilege

or you may be afraid of the truth

but i’m not afraid to be honest

i’m not afraid to be nasty

yeah, i’m nasty

like the struggle of women still beating equality into the world

because our rights have been beaten out of us for too long

but this fight will continue to embody this nastiness

i’m nasty like red white and blue bruises

nasty like elizabeth, amelia, rosa, condolleeza, sonia, malala, michelle, our mothers, our sisters

us sisters are all nasty

like history

and our pussies aint for grabbin’

they’re for reminding you that our walls are stronger than america’s ever will be

they’re for birthing new generations of filthy, vulgar, bossy, brave, proud nasty women

so if you a nasty woman, say hell yeah

Of summer, fugitives and trouble makers

Read it here on AO3.

Inspired by a post by dinnerxx

“Mr. Holmes! Mr. Holmes!

The troubled voice of Edogawa, the Holmeses’ butler, chases them through the courtyard, echoing among the peach trees and the hives. Sherlock turns for one single second, hair lashing against his face, all sweaty for the crazy run. He manages to glimpse a small, dark figure in the distance, limping and shouting with a stick up in the air. Irene grabs his elbow and pulls him forward, urging him to continue running.

Miss Adler!” the last echo his ears catch, before they force their legs in the final rush.

They dash towards a swelling in the ground - Sherlock is fond of referring to it as the Hill - out of breath, their clothes full of dirt for a nasty slip through the kitchen window. Irene’s been running barefoot, her fishnets full of holes. The smart dress she had put on for the evening at Holmes’ Manor now is mussed and stained, but she doesn’t seem to care.

Sherlock rubs his fingers on a grass-stained spot of his trousers, his necktie hanging precariously across his shirt.
He slowly raises his eyes on his companion of misbehaving. He doesn’t expect to find her bent, hands clenched on her chest, fully intent on the sincerest, liveliest laugh that Sherlock has ever heard.

There’s nothing classy or graceful about the sobbing sounds that come out from her lips, yet he can’t help but finding them beautiful.

Her laugh is contagious, and soon Sherlock feels his lips twisting in a crooked smile. His face is cracking up with giddiness: within a few seconds he feels a laugh bubbling up his throat, and then he follows her eyes closed, the gulping sounds of a boy whose voice is still changing.

Irene seems to find it even funnier and lets out an acute squeak that tries to cover immediately with her tiny hand. Sherlock feels a swirling flow in his chest, at the height of his heart, like a wave of warm affection. He approaches her, taking her face in his hands and kissing her forehead in a whirl of dizziness: “This is a disciplinary kiss, do not derive any joy from it!”

He looks at her, all bright and wonderful in his hands, glancing down to her ice-like eyes. She bites her lips, about to let a giggle escape her, and makes a teasing wink. Irene takes his hands, makes a whirling pirouette on herself, her infinite skirt that spins round and round and Sherlock feels lost in that hypnotic movement. It’s a woman’s motion, not a young girl’s one: but a woman whose heart is still the heart of a child. Suddenly she lets go of his hands and falls on soft grass, black hair scattered in a black cloud around her.

Sherlock lowers himself to the ground at her side, leaning on his elbows, and it doesn’t feel like his last summer at all.

It feels like a start.

“Look at the posh, rich guy from Eton, how he gets away from his pretentious, posh family party as if it were his own deathbed.” Irene tears a spike from the ground and holds it like a cigarette, white teeth and small, pink tongue all over it: “What will he do in such a boring place without even a comrade to kill boredom with, I wonder…”

“I’ll seek out trouble, I guess.” Sherlock tightens his lips, pensive, looking up to the sky. Clouds run fast over them, flying away from time, from responsibility, just like they did a few minutes ago.

He listens intently to the mild humming of the bees, thinking hard, then shakes his head: “And how about this smart lady, all bruised knees and acting school, will she lose herself between a Titania and a Lady Macbeth and forget everything else? Multitasking between singing and dancing, acting and misbehaving…” He teases her, glancing at her scratched, skinny knees.

“This lady is a good girl,” Irene objects, careful to stress out her last words, “and this year she’ll finally release her artistic talent.” She pinches his arm, gracefully biting her lips. Ah, those ever-hungry teeth, so insatiable to chew their own mouth. The gesture makes her look delightfully shy, and the ease with which she wears that lie is delicious.

Sherlock stays silent for a few seconds, his heart throbbing in his chest. He slowly turns towards her, pulling out a confident attitude he doesn’t feel his: “But what is more challenging than being on the run? There’s something extremely artistic in being the trouble maker.”

Irene’s eyebrows go up; she hearkens, enthralled. She looks at him with a serious, almost solemn face: “Do you wanna me to be your trouble?”

“Why not.” Sherlock feels a smile splinting his face, as warm as sunlight: “Let’s play.”