i have been waiting for this page for so long


pt1 | pt2 | (ongoing)

pairing: jimin x reader

genre: smut, fluff, slight angst + expecting parents au

word count: 11,035

request: sperm donor ex-boyfriend jimin

description: Okay, maybe in hindsight asking your ex-boyfriend, who you never really got over, to be your sperm-donor wasn’t the brightest of ideas.


six years prior.

“Do you wanna have kids one day?”

Jimin tilted his head as if to ponder the idea before tugging you across the bed until you were leaning against his chest, curious eyes catching your own.  

“Sure, I mean one day. One day, far, far away,” He said, pointing his finger off into the distance jokingly.

You laughed, hand skimming along the back of his neck. “Yeah, me too.”

“Any particular reason why you’re asking?” He said as he began playing with the strands of your hair.

“I dunno,” You shrugged. “We’ve been dating for a long time, just thought that it’s something we should know about each other.”

Jimin nodded, “No, you’re right. It’s kind of something you should figure out before things get too far in the relationship… Guess we waited a bit too long, but we’re on the same page, so that’s good,” He smiled, leaning down to place a short peck against your lips.

“So that means you think that information will be put to good use one day?” You asked, quirking your brow to insinuate.

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anonymous asked:

I'd be really really interested omg what are the tricks to ao3

could probably write a mini analysis on reading and uploading patterns of the yoi ao3 tag fml that’s how much i’ve been observing it

unfortunately sunday and saturday are when people are most likely to to be reading fanfiction since its the weekend; you just have to come to terms with the fact that your fic may be smack all the way to page three in a few hours and lost in 11 pages by the end of the day. its a gamble

under readmore bc this is a little long

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Home: Part Two

Request: Can I request one where the avengers raid a hydra base and find an 18 yr old girl covered in blood and dirt? She refuses to talk but goes with them without a fight. Nat cleans her up and cuts her hair and recognizes her as Clints daughter that vanished years ago. When Clint gets to the room the girl breaks down and runs to him immediately remembering her dad.

Plus: Hi! So I really love protected and I thought maybe you could write something were Bucky is new to the tower and still only talks to Steve until he meets the reader who also had a shitty past … they fall in love and heal each other or something … just an idea.

Pairings: Clint x daughter!reader, eventual Bucky x reader

Word Count: 1,643

Warnings: anxiety attack, mentions of verbal and physical abuse/violence/rape (in a short flashback with no actual graphic descriptions), a little bit of fluff ig

A/N: OH MY GOD I AM SO SORRY I AM A TERRIBLE PERSON. So I meant to upload this on Thursday but I was away for the last couple of days looking at a University. I thought I’d have wifi and be able to upload but the youth hostel wifi was awful and I couldn’t even open a page ://// So after a long wait, here’s the next part of Home – this will be a series now by the way guys :)

P.S. there will be more Clint x daughter!reader interaction in other parts, I know this is very Bucky-centric

 (Part One) (Part Three) (Part Four) (Part Five)

You were home.

Home, however, had changed a lot. In the years you had been away, much had happened to your dad. His team, The Avengers, had been formed, broken and then reformed during your captivity and even now there were still subtle pointers to the fracture. After you had asked him to just talk to you about his life for a bit, the details of the team’s temporary split had been one of the (many) things your dad had rambled about in your first few days at the tower.

Morning, kid.

You gave your dad a small smile, shuffling over to the kettle. You had been at the tower for a week now. Things were … interesting, to say the least. You still found it difficult to be around your dad’s team when they were all together. They were loud and you hadn’t been around loud for a long time, at least not loud that wasn’t shouting orders. They did try to accommodate you, speaking softly when they saw you, but in a large group they soon fell into their normal ways. You didn’t mind though; you liked to watch from afar, it was nice to see people so openly happy together.

You still couldn’t speak. Each time you tried it felt as though a hand was closing around your throat. Each time the memories came full force.

‘Shut your mouth, girl.’

‘Say something pretty, girlie.’

‘Scream and it’ll hurt more.’

‘Tell me you want it, pretty girl.’

You swallowed thickly. Your appetite had abandoned you now, and so you found yourself wandering back out of the kitchen with empty hands and an apologetic smile for your dad.

He tried to ask what was wrong but you shook your head, Need to shower. Not hungry.

He looked like he wanted to protest but you knew he was scared of pushing you too hard. You meandered past the commons, where most of the team was already hanging out. You pulled your sleeves down a little to cover your hands as you walked, pulling yourself in, in, in.

The minutes passed in a daze and you soon ended up in an unfamiliar part of the tower. Surprisingly, you weren’t scared. Instead a vague curiosity floated through your mind and so you wandered some more. The sound of grunting and panting drew you from your thoughts and you froze.

Your stomach flipped, like that feeling when you miss a step on the stairs or you go over a hill too fast in a car. You swallowed again.

In and out.

In and out.

The breaths came faster than you’d like, speeding up despite your attempts to slow them down and already the air around you felt thin. Shaky fists clenched at your sides and then came back up, tucking into your arms, in, in, in. Your eyes flickered around, restless, and your heart stuttered like an old car engine before pushing into overdrive, hammering against your chest.

The images flooded your mind, fast and unforgiving.

“Mommy!” the little girl’s voice was frantic as she was manhandled into compliance. She was young and unable to understand what was happening, but she knew to be scared. She was always scared.

“No, please, please, don’t take her. Just me, only me, please!” The woman’s pleading was desperate, sobs pushing their way through her words as she fought to get to her daughter.

But then suddenly the door clanged shut and the little girl was left alone. She didn’t cry. The shock still had a hold of her mind, leaving her motionless, eyes turned towards the door. The cell was small, barely big enough for one person, but the little girl and the woman had always shared it, curled in the corner of the room, whispering empty comforts.

Then the sounds had started, hardly there at first – muffled grunts and panting, the heavy tones of a man snarling commands and in the background, soft whimpers.

The woman had returned a few hours later, bruises adorning her skin and a slight limp in her step. But when she saw the little girl, alone and unharmed, a small, satisfied smile graced her lips. Only her.

The scene wasn’t a memory, it couldn’t be. The girl in that memory was too young, barely three years old and you had only been taken when you were fourteen. And the cell had been different to the one you were kept in. But you didn’t linger on it; your nightmares and memories often overlapped and intermingled, the lines between reality and the imagined blurring and distorting. She looked like you, you thought, but you couldn’t be sure because you didn’t really remember what you looked like as a child. The woman’s face was already fading from your memory, partially blocked from view by broad shoulders and faceless men.

“Y/N?” the voice spoke quietly, close to your face, and you realised he must have been trying to get your attention for a few minutes.

You looked up.

Bucky? You signed the word even though he probably wouldn’t understand, to show him you’d heard.

His hair was pulled back in a low bun at the nape of his neck. In his metal hand was a gym bag with a towel draped over the top and in the other was a water bottle. Small droplets of sweat had beaded around his hairline.

He gave you a tight smile, an echo of worry in his wary eyes, “Are…” he hesitated, “Are you ok?”

You were taken aback by the question. Bucky was the only one of the Avengers who hadn’t made an effort to talk to you. You had understood why though; from your observation of the team and how they interacted, it was clear that Bucky felt uncomfortable around the others. And though they made every effort to include him, and seemed to genuinely want to get him to open up, it was clear that they couldn’t help but feel similarly.

He mainly spoke to Steve, the big man who had scared you at first but was now one of the only ones (apart from your dad and Natasha) that you felt comfortable around. Though you had never spoken to him, you already felt a sort of kinship with him – you were both outsiders, both not-quite-fitting-in with the group.

You nodded, despite the fact that you still felt shaky and nervous.

Bucky frowned, “You looked really scared just then. I came out and at first I thought- well, I thought you were scared of me,” he said slowly.

You glanced at him. It was true that at first the man had scared you. He was big and powerful, just like the men who had hurt you, so it was natural. However, after seeing him around the tower, seeing that he was gentle and quiet, that fear had eventually dissipated.

You shook your head, trying to convey what you meant but it was obvious that he was having trouble deciphering your meaning. You sighed and looked around, but there was no where you could write on and you didn’t have a pen.

Suddenly an idea popped into your head - something you used to do with your dad when you were a kid and he didn’t have his hearing aids in, before you learned to sign fully. You reached out slowly, knowing that sudden movements were not one of Bucky’s favourite things.

He looked at you questioningly, but allowed you to take his arm – the flesh one – and hold it in front of you. You looked up at him and flashed a small smile before looking back down at his arm.

He read out the letters as you traced them on his skin, “N-O-T Y-O-U.” A smile flickered onto his features and he continued reading, “H-E-A-R-D N-O-I-S-E-S,” he frowned in confusion but then recognition crossed his features, “You mean like, punching a bag, grunting, that sort of thing?”

You nodded.

“And that…” he trailed off waiting for you to continue. You struggled with what to write, not wanting him to go to your dad if you said too much. “M-E-M-O-R-I-E-S.”

You could tell that he didn’t fully understand at first but then he seemed to think it through and sudden understanding, then sympathy, then anger, then more sympathy flew across his face in a flurry of emotions. You thought back to what you said, had even that been too much? Too revealing?

“S-H-U-S-H,” he read out. There was a micropause as he realised what you had spelled and he laughed, shocking himself and you. He turned serious again, but at the pleading look on your face, relented, “Ok, it’s your choice and besides, I don’t know anything other than, ‘heard noises, memories’.”

You smiled gratefully.

“Where are you going anyways, doll?” The word slipped out, once again surprising the both of you but you smiled at it. It was sweet.

You shrugged.

“Wandering?” he asked, you nodded again, “Yeah, I do that a lot too. Do you want me to walk you back to the commons?” He asked this hesitantly, like he wasn’t really sure if you would consider that acceptable. You could have found your way back relatively easily, but since he looked so unsure of himself, you accepted and the two of you began walking back in the direction you had come.

He let out a chuckle, “You know, it’s strange being the talkative one for once. Usually Steve is the one trying to get me to talk.” You grinned and shrugged again. From what you had seen so far, Bucky wasn’t a naturally shy or quiet person, just hydra-lysed (yes you did just make a biology-hydra pun in your own head, fourteen year old you was a biology nerd and even now some nerddom remained). You were sure that eventually he would find his way back to being to his old self.

Permanent Tags: @psychicwitchphilosopher @sgtjamesbuchananbarnes107th

Series Tags: none

UnderMemory Comic

Chapitre 1 page 27

Dust: A…urgh…shit…! W…What has he just done…?! I can’t move anymore…! Shit !!

Dust! Papyrus: Brother !! You hear me ?! Brother !!

Dust: Who…?!

Dust! Papyrus: Brother ! Sans…Sans !

Chapitre 1 page 28

Dust: Pa…pyrus…?!

Dust: Papyrus: You fell asleep again ? You lazy bone ! Come on get up ! Take my hand !

Dust: Pa…py…!! Bro…

Memory: You could’ve got me just now, but when you used your Gaster Blaster, i understood that it was only a feint ! So I used a glass clone as a diversion and teleported myself elsewhere waiting for the right time to intervene. So much…pain in that memory ! Sadness…hatred !

Chapitre 1 page 29

Memory: I can see them. Your crimes. Your despair. Your loneliness. I really have pity on you ! Your misery, your madness, i have been contemplating them for too long. 

Dust: Pa…py…!

Memory: Locked in despair, you find only as the only way out of your miserable life: to inflict suffering and pain on others ! All that for win LOVE !

Chapitre 1 page 30

Memory: I fear that there is no way to free you from your dementia and your torments. So…it would be wiser to finish it like this !

Previous: http://undermemory.tumblr.com/post/158285496850/undermemory-comic

Next: http://undermemory.tumblr.com/post/160664170415/undermemory-comic

Dust! Sans belong to @ask-dusttale

Dust! Papyrus belong to @ask-dusttale

Reblog for encourage please !


“What’s red like?”

Pairing: Kang Younghyun (Young K/Brian) x reader
Genre: fluff, tiny bit of angst?
Word count: 1,009

You had achromatopsia, and though you had gotten used to the absence of color in the past 20 years or so of your life, you couldn’t help but wonder sometimes what it was like to really see.

“I can see black and white. Everything else is just a mere shade of gray.”

“So you don’t know what green is like? Not even blue? Or red?” questioned Younghyun.

“Nope, nope, and nope. What’s green like?”

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The Ones That Got Away 2

Had ideas for sequel. Wrote ideas down. Turned into fic. This was actually supposed to include them confronting the media too, but I wanted to keep all the chapters about the same length. So at this point one more chapter, then we’ll see where it goes from that.

Also I spent a lot of time being shmoopy in the first part of the fic, so I apologize ahead of time for that. I have emotions about Stiles and Derek and cuddling ok? Also big spoon Stiles. Anyway, read on!

Derek’s phone buzzed with a text. Then buzzed again. And again. Derek ignored it in favor of kissing Stiles’ shoulder. He didn’t care that it was now after noon and they had essentially spent the whole morning in bed. After eight years apart, Derek figured they deserved it.

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Drunken Truths

Originally posted by sam-and-dean-winchesters

Originally posted by demondetoxmanual

Dean Winchester X Reader

Warning: Abusive family, and Drinking

Summary: You “help” Cas with his “human studies” by getting dead drunk. Sam and Dean go looking for you two, to find that you are drunk to recognize them. One the way home you tell them stuff you vowed never to tell them.

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Here's the thing.. I lied to you guys about getting the fluff back in part 6 of I Missed You

Well I sorta lied. To make the ending even more satisfying and emotionally effective, I took what would have been a short and frankly rushed wrap-up (imo) and expanded the play-out into a scene consisting of way too many pages to wait for in a single part. So here’s my solution: Part 6 will be posted by page(s) each snippet consisting of less action and more dialogue; opposite of how I have been running the comic. I’ll admit I am partially doing this to torture you, my devoted readers, even more so that lately bc like, I can’t help it but mainly my decision is for the sake of not making P6 a huge, full-blown, long post y'know. From the looks of the dialogue I have written down, this part is a monster compared to the others. So yeah just getting it out there that I’m going to change (extend) the current updating setup and make sure you guys don’t get confused ^^’ With that said heads-up for my next release- there will still be angst :P

Now my final wish before you all kill me, could you please spread this around thank you and love, Emery /Fever/

Impromptu Feast

For @svu-stories. Because everyone needs a little love and a good meal…

“Don’t be alarmed.”

“Don’t be… do you have any idea what I’ve been going through?”

Word of the shooting flooded through the speakers while you and Derek worked an authors’ luncheon uptown, the literary elite suddenly tuned into the report, undoubtedly wanting to use reality as the jumping off point for a possible bestseller. But you couldn’t wait for their version of events; you needed to hear your husband’s voice, to skip to the final page, the last sentence, to find the happy ending.

“And when I couldn’t get a hold of you, I—”

“I know, mi amor. And for what it’s worth, I am so sorry.”

Part of you longed to leap through the phone and give him a good shake. He had to know that your mind was doing cartwheels that ended in images of him bloodied and broken while chaos reigned above the steep, stone steps. But he was fine. He was talking to you. But where had be been?

“In the thick of it,” he continued. “It’s horrible…”

This wasn’t the first time that he’d been trapped in a courthouse riddled with bullets. In the wake of that melee he assured you that you were never far from his mind, that the thought that you were miles from harm’s way kept him going. And when you finally laid eyes on him again, his vest wrinkled and his sleeves rolled up, you let him hold you because he said that was what the only way for the world to make sense again.

“I’m sorry, too,” you murmured over the phone. “I can hear how scared you still are.”

Whatever was left of your anger ebbed away, and you thought of getting a late start on dinner or taking a ridiculously early stab at breakfast, asking him when he would come home.

“I don’t know.”

“But you are okay, right?” you asked.

“It’s not me. It’s Rollins.”

The blonde detective’s face flashed across your mind’s eye, and you clutched the phone tighter as you sank to the couch. Jingles sidled up for a pet, and you barely stroked her striped fur as the story spilled out.

“A bullet hit her neck. Just missed the jugular. But there… there was still so much blood.”

“Is she in surgery?” you asked, biting down on your lip.

“For the past two hours. The doctors are doing all that they….”

His voice drifted away. Was that Fin in the background? Straining to hear, desperate to know more, you tapped your foot and waited until Rafael’s voice returned to your ear.

“Sorry,” he started. “Just got word that the shooter didn’t make it.”

“Good,” you said.

Mi amor—”

“I know that’s mean. But right now, I don’t care. It could have been you. It…”

Now your voice faded as you jumped up, startling Jingles and causing the kitty cat to race behind the curtains as you reached for your coat.

“Where’s Jesse?” you quickly asked. “I can check in on her or—”

“Carisi’s sister has that covered,” Rafael assured you. “But it’s sweet of you to ask.”

You pictured him waiting in a white room under unforgiving lights with plastic chairs, subsisting on colored water that barely passed for coffee, making the nightmare worse.

“Can I check in on you?” you quietly asked. He forced a laugh to mask what had to be tears and hesitated before he spoke.

“I don’t want you out this late,” he said. “Just stay home. Where you’re safe.”

“Really?” you challenged. His silence lasted long enough for you to cut in with your next thought. “Because I can call a cab and have it waiting right outside. No stops until I reach you. What do you say to that?”

You were already looking for your purse when his sigh stopped you in your tracks.

“I say hurry,” he whispered. “Because I need you right now.”

“I’m on my way.”

The cab ride was quicker than you had envisioned. Which was a good thing. Rafael kept texting you as the driver passed through green lights with no need to switch lanes.

You must be so tired.

Like you’re not? I’m almost there.

I’m counting the seconds.

Just one minute more.

Tipping the driver and taking a brown paper bag in hand, you approached the sliding glass doors, ready to give Amanda’s name at the reception desk and text your husband one more time.


But then he was right there, his suit rumpled and his eyes bloodshot. You set the parcel aside and gathered him in your arms, grateful to hold him as he buried his head in your hair and fought to keep his sobs in check.

“Don’t do that.”

Pressing two fingers under his chin, you saw his eyes brimming and tenderly kissed his nose as you cradled his face.

“It’s okay to break down with me. That’s what I’m here for.”

“Is that all?” Before you could answer the question, he tightened his embrace, his fingers painting random circles into your back until he broke away and smiled into your eyes.

“For everything that you need,” you promised. “And I am far from empty-handed.”

He cocked his head as you retrieved the bag and granted him a peek inside.

“What is all this?” he asked.

“Brownies. Blondies. Chilled chicken salad. I even have some sourdough rolls and—”

“Did you… you couldn’t have whipped all this up while you waited for the cab.”

As nice as it would have felt to take credit for a miracle, especially now, you shook your head.

“This was for the thing with the musicians tomorrow.”

“Far be it from me to take food from a fiddler’s mouth,” he said.

“That’s adorable. But I called Derek. Told him that he’d have to improvise with his share and whatever’s on sight.”

“You didn’t have to—”

“Yes, I did. Because I want to take care of you. And your friends.”

He started to protest when he simply smiled and wrapped one arm around your shoulders.

“Who am I to say no to a free meal,” he muttered with a soft smile. “Or you.”

Taking the elevator to the hospital’s third floor, his hand firmly clasped in yours, you followed him as the metal doors slid open and saw the other members of the squad shuffling about the waiting room. Olivia conferred with a nurse at the reception desk while Fin huffed that he was going to see what he could find out in the other direction. That left Sonny slumped in one of the chairs, his head in his hands…

…his shirtsleeves stained with droplets of crimson.

Releasing Rafael, you laid your hand on his shoulder with a smile.

“Mrs. Barba,” Sonny started. “What beings you here?”

“Thought you all could use something to eat,” you said, squeezing his arm as your started to unpack the bag. As you set up your impromptu feast on the clear glass coffee table, pushing the outdated magazines aside, you started to make small talk when it seemed the wrong move. What was there to say? What could you do but feed the masses? Olivia greeted you and mumbled that there was no news, and Fin had fared no better at the other end of the hallway. Maybe this was a bad call; who could have an appetite under these circumstances?

“Is that chicken salad?” Sonny finally asked.

“Yes,” you told him. “I figured… I mean you guys probably haven’t had dinner or anything.”

“Not at the top of my list.”

His sharp tone caught you by surprise, and you hoped that you swallowed the shock back when he met your gaze.

“Sorry,” he said. “Don’t listen to me right now.” A tear brimmed in the corner of his eye, and you patted his knee and spoke softly.

“No need to apologize,” you assured him. “But you really should try to eat a little something.”

“Why?” he asked.

“Because… because there’s nothing in this world that a decent sandwich can’t fix.”

Did that sound trite? You searched for something else to say when the detective held out his hand and you prepared a plate, smiling as he took two bites.

“Thank you,” he said. “But I really can’t eat any—”

“It’s a start. The food’s not going anywhere.”

Neither were you.

You watched the others pick at the platter, Olivia and Fin thanking you even as they kept getting up, hoping for answers. As the hours clicked by, you found yourself sitting in Rafael’s lap, holding his hand and insisting that he eat just a little bit more.

“I love you for doing this,” he said.

“That the only reason?” you smirked.

“You know there’s so many others.”

You wiped his mouth with a checkered napkin, ready to listen to everything and anything he might say, when a doctor emerged in green scrubs and a smile on her face.

“Are you all here for Ms. Rollins?”

Everyone was on their feet, Rafael included, and you thought that maybe you should excuse yourself for a few seconds when Rafael kept you close.

“She’s stabilized and out of surgery,” the doctor continued. “The next twenty-four hours are crucial. But we have every reason to be optimistic.”

Fin was the first to sigh, and Olivia hugged Sonny as he struggled to speak.

“Can I… is it okay if I see her?” he asked.

“It’ll be another forty minutes or so. But then yes. I think it will do her good.”

Sonny turned around, seeming like his old self for the first time since your stepped off the elevator.

“You hear that!” he said. “It’s all good.”

“I’m so glad,” you said.

“Hey I’m… I’m sorry if I was short with you.”

“No worries. Bet you have more of an appetite now.”

Agreeing with a hug, he finished his sandwich in one swallow and ducked out to phone his sister. Olivia left to check in with Lucy and Fin decided to call the precinct as he picked up a brownie.

“Thanks for all this,” he said. “Barba, you’re a lucky guy.”

Once you were alone with your husband, his face relaxed as his smile brightened.

“What he said,” Rafael started. “Not that I deserve it.”

“I’m holding court right now. And my verdict is that you do.”

Tidying the table, you shot up at the feel of his arms around your waist and leaned into his warm touch, his lips dotting your neck.

“You’re not leaving, right?” he asked as he ran his fingers down your cheek.

“Not without you,” you replied.

“It’s still going to be awhile.”

“Darling, we have all the time in the world.”

Brushing your hands together, you sat with him, curling your legs on the cushions so you could cuddle into his chest. Good news for Amanda. A happy ending in the works. But…

“I’m so glad it wasn’t you,” you said. “Does that make me a horrible person?”

“No,” he said, seemingly without a second thought. “Because I’ve spent the better part of the day thanking God that it wasn’t you.”

“Not a lot of guns in a room full of writers,” you joked.

“Because the pen is mightier, right?”

“So they say.”

He handed you a brownie, insisted that you eat something. When you were done, he kissed you, the taste of his tongue mingling with the chocolate before he pulled away and peered into you eyes.

“And you, mi amor, are the mightiest of all.”

BTS reaction to their girlfriend wanting a nose job

Lately, he had noticed you have been hiding half of your face in pictures with them and NEVER taking selfies. To be honest, he didn’t think much of it. But then he found you looking up photos of noses online and was really confused and a lil freaked out.

Lets be real, he’d tell you to just look at his nose instead of some strangers on the internet, practically shoving his nose in your face.
“Ah jagi, my nose is perfect look.” He’d flaunt, unknowingly setting you off. He’d notice your eyes shine in the way they only did when you were upset. “What? Does my nose offend you?” He’d back up, putting his hands over his nose and you’d break, telling him how you hate your nose and seeing him so confident in his makes you hate yours even more.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t realise it upset you!” He’d wrap you in his arms and whisper soothing words into your ear.
“Your nose is perfect too jagi. Everything about you is perfect.”

Originally posted by hoseokb

He’d look at you like you’d grown two heads, staring at your computer screen from where he stood silently a few metres behind you.
“Uh, what’re you doing Y/N?” He’s eventually ask with a small laugh. You’d panic and try to close your tabs before turning to look at him wide eyed. “Do you have a nose fetish?” He’d tease before giggling at his crazy suggestion.
“Ah I’m kidding, aish don’t look at me like I’m strange. You’re the one looking at peoples noses.” He’d walk over and open the tabs back up, easily holding you back from stopping him. “Wait, nose jobs?” He’d mumble reading your search bar. “Jagi, what’s this?”
You’d give in and explain how you’d always disliked your nose and now you feel you’re ready to get it changed.
“This is what you really want?” You’d nod in response and he’d take your face into his hands. “I’ll love you and your nose no matter what but please make sure you’re 100% certain before changing yourself like this. I don’t want you doing this for anyone but yourself. At the end of the day, the only person that can judge you, is you, okay jagi?”

Originally posted by nnochu

Putting the snack bowl between you on the sofa, he’d catch the images on your phone screen and almost choke on his popcorn. You’d look at him and pat his back until he calmed.
“Why are you looking at noses, that’s weird.” He’d give you a strange look.

“I want a nose job.” You were blunt and poked your nose. “It’s not the right shape for my face, don’t you think?” He’d inspect every single milimetre of face before shaking his head. “Well I do and want it proportioned better.”

“Is anything I say going to change that?”


“Okay.” He’d pull you to his side as you took the bowl onto your lap. “I’ll go with you to all your appointments if this is what you’re really going to do.” You’d smile happily and kiss his cheek making him smile back.

Originally posted by bwiseoks

Little shit. 100% accusing you of having a nose fetish. Won’t shut up for days about it until you get truly fed up and blurt it out.

“I want a nose job now shut up!” He would immediately, looking at you shocked.

“What?” He’d finally mange after racking his brain for the right words but coming up short. “A nose job?” You’d nod but say nothing else. He’d get right up close to you, inspecting your nose carefully. “Nope, can’t see why you would want that. My nose is bigger than yours jagi, if one of us should get it done, it’s me.”

“No. I love your nose.” You pout.

“And I love yours.” He holds your face and presses a gentle kiss on the tip of your nose. “Give me time to make you love it too.”

Originally posted by bangtan

Namjoon (Rap Monster)
This smarty pants would catch your search bar and click on right away. He’d opt for acting as if he didn’t see anything and continue on as per normal with you. He’d want you to bring it up in your own time.

“Joonie, I want a nose job.” You’d announce one day after making him sit down with you. He’s smile gently and nod before getting up and rushing to your room. You’d be confused, especially when he returned with a note book.

“I saw you looking up photos the other day.” He’d explain flicking open the book to the right page then handing it to you. You’d look over the page then up at him surprised. “I’ve been doing a lot of research into it. Looking up pros and cons. What the procedure consists of. The best doctors around but turns out there’s noone good near by so we’d have to travel a few hours, maybe even go abroad for it. I’ve been doing the maths too, adding up costs to see how long it’d take us to save up-”

“Wait, hold up, us? Joonie, this is something I want, I’m not asking you to pay.”

“I know but, you’ve always been self conscious about your nose. You’ve never said so but I know you jagi, I know what you don’t like about yourself. Actually looking it up tells me you’re serious about this and if it’s what will make you love yourself anywhere near as much as I love you, I’m willing to do whatever it takes, even if all my money goes straight into it, I will, if it makes you happy.”

Originally posted by choke-me-namjoon

Taehyung (V)
Little shit #2. Not as annoying as Jungkook though. He’d be more sensitive to your feelings and would catch on that his teasing was annoying the gosh darn hickidy heck out of you.
“Ah I’m sorry jagi, I’ll stop.” He’d grin wrapping his arms around you. “Why were you looking at noses anyway? That’s weird, even for us.”

“I don’t like my nose.”

“Oh we could get you a cute little cat nose!” He’d exclaim excitedly. “You can wear it every day and we can get you some ears and a tail too! Ah my jagi would be such a cute little kitty!” He’d coo, petting your head. You’d swat him away with a laugh.

“I’m not being a furry, Tae.” He’d pout and you’d roll your eyes. “And if I’m going to change my nose, I want to do it permenantly.”

“Like, a nose job?” You’d nod and he’d frown. “But, your perfect as you are jagi. You don’t need to change anything. I love everything about you.”

“Even my crooked nose?”

“Even your crooked nose.” He’d nod and take your hands cutely. “I love your crooked nose and the story of how you got it trying to rescue a cat from a tree!” He’d grin and you can’t help but laugh. “Everytime I see it, I remember the story and it reminds me why I love you so much.”

Originally posted by osh-bae

Yoongi (Suga)
Would have the most negative reaction. While the others may argue at first, they’d be supportive in the end whereas Yoongi would straight up nope you.

“What the hell is that?” He’d ask in a cold voice having noticed you were on a plastic surgery site. “You better not be thinking about getting surgery, jagi.” You’d look over at him, biting your lip feeling guilty.
Yoongi wasn’t one to compliment you at every chance you’d be lucky to get to hold his hand in public but when he was loving to you, he’d for sure make up for all his neglect and smother you with compliments, telling you how in love he was with you and how he wants to wake up and see your perfect face every day for the rest of his life. There was nothing he’d change about you, he had found his perfect girl and you knew he felt that way.
“You are, aren’t you?” You’d nod, looking down at the floor. He’s storm off to your room and you weren’t sure if you should follow or not so you stayed put.
When he returned he had his weekend bag in his hand, full and ready to go.

“Wh-what are you doing?” You’d stammer jumping to your feet.

“I’ll come back when you’re not being an idiot.” He stated simply before walking to the door. You’d chase him and pull him back, begging him to stay. “Are you going to stop looking at that damn site?” You don’t respond and he tries to leave but you hold him tighter. He’d feel your body shaking and knowing you were crying, his heart would break and he’d turn to hold you tight. “I’m sorry Y/N I didn’t mean to upset you like this. It just makes me so mad that you don’t see you how I do. You’re so damn beautiful. I don’t ever want you to change a single thing about you because then you wouldn’t be the girl I fell in love with.”

Originally posted by imonaworldtour

Thank you for the request anon! :D

We’re literally only a few away from 100 followers and want to do something special for it so we’re taking one shot requests ready :D

~ Admin Chee


So while I’ve been struggling with some internal conflicts, I’ve been procrastinating on real work (prints and artbook) and instead have scripted a few comics, some of which I’ve started on already, so I thought I’d share the list with you cause why not… Up there are previews of pages 1, 2 and 6 of the next one I’m uploading. List is after the break~

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Baby, New York City: Chapter Four (Biadore) - Boleyn

AN: Hi lovelies! Sorry for the super long wait. Life got crazy! My classes at university picked back up and I donated bone marrow (which was an amazing experience, got to bethematch.org for more information about it!). I’m not totally happy with this chapter, but to make up for the huge delay, it is a good bit longer than my others have been! Thank you so much for waiting and I hope you enjoy!! Oh! And the sketchbook library in this story is a real place in in Williamsburg! xx Boleyn

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anonymous asked:

I'd love you forever if you could write something with associate Harvey meeting Mike? Or just a younger Harvey meeting younger Mike. Thank you!

Read on AO3


“Hey! Watch it!”


Harvey steps back abruptly, his arm flailing to catch his balance as the heel of his still new-ish Brooks Brothers wingtip hits the curb. Because he can’t catch a goddamn break today, the Thompson file flies out of his hand, scattering across the sidewalk, and Jessica is going to kill him.

“God dammit, kid,” Harvey seethes, brushing flecks of mud from his coat with moderate success. “This cost more than you make in a year!”

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Fever Snapped

I am getting sick and tired of life getting in the way of me drawing more of my comic, and missing deadlines for when I was *supposed* to finish/upload it and I still have two more pages to draw! (not sure when that’ll be done) and even I wouldn’t wanna wait that long for the next update despite the love I have for this comic. In fact I don’t wanna wait anymore so immediately after this text I’m gonna post what I have done so far on ‘I Missed You! Part 5’ It’s only one page and I am so upset on being so far behind but I wanna put it out there already so brace yourselves 😈

Disclosure: No one is bugging me about 'When is the next part coming? When is the next part coming?’ This is solely me wanting you guys to see at least something of it already bc it’s been so long since P4 and on that note, thank you so much for being patient and for not rushing me to get it done like, you have all kept silent and waited for me to finish in my own time and I like that~ Thanks ^^ I on the other hand have not a patient bone in my body- either that or I have a very weak little one *shrug*

Let’s make things a little less sad maybe?

A few people have mentioned that they’d really like to know the plot for the rest of Rebound, just to get some closure. I was a bit sceptical about the idea because I don’t feel like you get much out of reading a superficial summary, but then I was thinking, wait, we have over 100 pages of script that I personally find perfectly enjoyable to read! It would be a shame for it to rot away and never be seen. It doesn’t cover the entire story, but it at least sets everything up so you’ll get a bit more out of a summary of what’s missing.

However, it will take a good amount of work to piece it all together, partially because some of the script is in Danish and partially because one of my last acts regarding Rebound has been to rip a long chapter apart and rearrange it and I kind of need to figure out.. what to do with that. It’s not something I terribly mind putting together, but I’d like to know beforehand if it’s something you guys are interested in reading?

- Gitte

So since ya’ll like the rich people drama, let me tell ya’ll a story about my dad’s spite, because he’s great

So this fancy neighborhood full of rich people ofc has a lake. On the lake is a marina where you can keep your expensive pontoon boat for use on said lake. 

The marina is fairly small, there’s maybe room for 50 boats max. 

There are far more than 50 rich people with boats in the neighborhood. Competition for a marina slip is fierce. There’s a waiting list a mile long and people wait for YEARS. and the people at the top are all suspiciously the same class of people like likely bought their way up. 

If you don’t have a slip to keep your boat in, you can’t keep it on the lake and you have to haul it in and out of the water every time you wanna use it. pain right. So fierce competition. 

My dad happens to have a pontoon boat. He’s not rich, we’re not rich, it was from ages ago when he half-bought it with a friend who also lives in the neighborhood to share. That person moved and just gave dad his half of the boat ages ago. 

Dad hasn’t used the boat for years, since he’s been busy raising my brother and I as a single dad. 

So there it sits. unused.

Taking up a precious marina slip. blasphemy.

Infuriating the snobby people 8D They see a covered, unkept boat (who actually has time to clean that thing…) and wonder WHY that person is taking a PRECIOUS SLIP SPOT

Why doesn’t he sell the boat, you ask?

Well, for one, whoever buys the boat doesn’t get the slip spot. It would go instead to whoever was next on the sacred list. So whoever bought the boat would have to haul it out of the water. Which is a pain my dad doesn’t want to deal with. 

But, the REAL reason is… my dad is a creature of spite.

He doesn’t like the people on the top of the slip list. They don’t like him (we’re generally disliked by our neighbors and the homeowners association bc after my mom died we didn’t have the money or status to live there anymore - my dad can’t spend thousands to pay someone do do his landscaping and make it rich people pretty, some of the exterior of the house is deteriorating and he can’t afford to fix it but GASP IT MAKES HIS HOUSE UGLY AND THAT’S NOT FAIR TO THE NEIGHBORS!!! HE’S MAKING THE NEIGHBORHOOD UGLY!!!)

So basically my dad has left the boat in place solely to take up a slip and piss people off who have been waiting years for it. And he doesn’t even use it LOL

There was also that time the boat came untied (ropes were years old) and his boat went traipsing around the lake all by itself until someone posted on the facebook page about the rogue boat and dad went out and got it. Walked it by a rope back to the marina LOLOL (it doesn’t run under its own power anymore).

So long stupid story but I love how my dad is a creature of spite