i know you too well he says

sonelf-159  asked:

kat said dom improvised the I love you .. WELL WELL WELL

SEE THIS IS SO INTERESTING BECAUSE IT MAKES SO MUCH SENSE, like i know the writers don’t care for cl@ce as much as malec but i really thought it was WAY too soon for them to drop the ily bomb so i was like… why… but dom put it in there and it makes sense. esp since clary/katmac didn’t say it back loooool. the fact he improvised it when that whole part fell flat on his part says a lot lmao.

tagged by @rememberozzie

Rules: Answer the questions and tag 20 followers you’d like to get to know better.

Name: Bianca 

Nickname: Bi, Bibi, Bibizinha, Panda 

Zodiac Sign: Cancer (I don’t believe in this stuff tho) 

Hogwarts House: Hufflepuff

Height: 5′4

Sexual Orientation: straight

Ethnicity: Brazilian 

Favorite Fruit: Banana

Favorite Season: well I don’t really live in a place with four defined seasons so I’m not really sure?? but I’m gonna say summer because CHRISTMAS AND VACATION 

Favorite Book Series: Harry Potter but Percy Jackson is reeeeally close 

Favorite Fictional Character: this question is too hard aaahhhh but I’m gonna say Leo Valdez because he’s the true love of my life 

Favorite Flower: I’m not sure??? but lavenders are really pretty so let`s go with that 

Favorite Scent: smell of melted milk chocolate aaahhhhh

Favorite Color: pastel blue

Favorite Animal: I gotta say panda bears  

Favorite Band: hmmm I think it`s Missionários Shalom, a brazilian catholic band, it’s sO GOOD   

Coffee, Tea, or Hot Chocolate: gimme that sweet hot chocolate 

Average Hours of Sleep: I guess 6 ? But if it’s the end of the semester it’s like 4 lol I’m super healthy 

Number of Blankets: only one

Dream Trip: go to New York and Orlando with @13-septembre and my other best friend (and if it all works out it’s gonna happen aaahhhh) 

Last thing I googled: I googled pictures of koalas to see if they’re cuter than panda bears lol 

Blog Created: April 2013

How many blogs do I follow? 198

Number of Followers: 482

What I usually post about: whatever I’m obsessing about + Catholicism  

Do I get asks regularly? not really haha 

Thank you for tagging me Ozzie :D 

Tag 20 people: @thylovelylionheart @justpidgance @jayykesley @aceofstars16 @13-septembre @fillosophie @troublesfarbehind @justpond–eringtheuniverse @pipplesthepenguin @elven-flower @a-radioactive-platypus and anyone else who wants to do it! 

Dear Charlie,

..

Hi are you there? I just wanted to say that I also went through something similar months ago. My best friend stopped talking to me on account of a date. We argued and every time he and his girlfriend fought, he would come and talk to me. And another, I do not know if he really likes her, can not he be happy with himself?
Well, sorry for that, I just wanted to break up with someone who might not even say I’m an idiot. I feel bad for writing this too.

I’m sorry for this. Sorry sorry

Just things I want to mention/point out from 303:

  • Morty not trusting Rick when he was telling him to flip over the pickle 
  • Beth admiring her father for supposedly not needing to ask anyone for anything
  • Rick: “Yeah, there’s lots I wouldn’t do to see my daughter, but killing you gets me to her quicker than your derivative bullshit!”
  • Rick told the Russians to give the money to Jaguar’s daughter
  • This exchange:
    • Jaguar: “Pickle Man, it’s too late for me to tell my daughter I love her, but not for you.”
    • Rick: “Oh, well, uh, she knows, we don’t really buy into that kind of crap.”
    • (Is he talking about Beth or Jaguar’s daughter?)
  • Rick admitting he left his daughter behind in a world of mutants
  • Summer saying she just likes getting high
  • The therapist’s two monologues to Beth and Rick, respectively:
    • “I think it’s possible that you and your father have a very specific dynamic, I don’t think it’s one that rewards emotion or vulnerability, I think it may punish them, I think it’s possible that that dynamic eroded your marriage and is affecting your kids with a tendency to misdirect your feelings.
    • “Rick, the only connection between your unquestionable intelligence and the sickness destroying your family, is that everyone in your family, you included, use intelligence to justify sickness. You seem to alternate between viewing your own mind as an unstoppable force, and as an inescapable curse. And I think it’s because the only truly unapproachable concept for you is that it’s your mind within your control. You chose to come here, you chose to talk, to belittle my vocation, just as you chose to become a pickle. You are the master of your universe, and yet you are dripping with rat blood and feces, your enormous mind literally vegetating by your own hand. I have no doubt that you would be bored senseless by therapy. The same way I’m bored when I brush my teeth and wipe my ass. Because the thing about repairing, maintaining, and cleaning is that it’s not an adventure. There’s no way to do it so wrong that you might die. It’s just, work. And the bottom line is, some people are okay going to work, and some people…well, some people would rather die. Each of us gets to choose.”
  • Rick awkwardly apologizing to Beth for lying
  • Rick asking Beth to get a drink with him
  • Morty and Summer kind of indicating they liked therapy and wanted to go back
  • Jaguar saving Rick and Morty’s lives in the post-credits scene
10

I am devastated. I have been staring at my screen for a while now, I just don’t have the words for this. I feel like I lost a good friend. And I know that sounds stupid because how can you say that about someone you didn’t even really know personally? I don’t get it either, all I know is that my heart is broken. I never felt understood, until Chester started singing. I went through some horrible stuff he went through as well and I just.. felt connected to him. And now he’s gone. I’m so sorry. I hope his family and friends get to heal from this terrible loss. I hope he is finally at peace with himself. 

I’m sorry I have been gone for a long time again. It happens too often, I know. I’m still dealing with mental issues myself, I’m not sure if it will ever get better. But for this I had to make an exception. I tried to make something special for him and for the rest of the band. I made a photoset of every chorus of the new album. I hope you guys like it. I know I’m not the best editor, but it was really made from the heart. Rest in peace Chester. 

me to me: hey, where’s the au where Jack jumps into a taxi to escape crazy fans and Bitty’s already using the taxi

me to me: georgia, you write stuff. you can just… write that

me to me: hey, good point

The door opens and shuts again quickly, which is strange enough as the taxi is sitting in the middle lane at a light that’s just turned green. What is more strange though, is a man throws himself into the car at the same time.

Bitty would ask ‘what the hell’, but he’s currently cradling his nose in his hands, having suffered an elbow to the face as the stranger slid across the car seat without looking.

“Crisse. Fuck. Shit. I am so sorry.”

The man turns to him. Bitty’s eyes are watering and he blinks to try and clear them. He’s fairly certain the man in the taxi with him is Jack Zimmermann.

The taxi driver has either not noticed what has happened, or is used to strange occurrences in their taxi, and is still driving Bitty on toward his apartment.

“Are you alright?” The man who Bitty is now convinced is Jack Zimmermann-he’s got a line of stitches on his jaw from a rough check in a game Bitty watched two nights ago–asks worriedly, hands dancing around Bitty’s face like he wants to make sure but is afraid to touch.

Bitty pulls his hands away and looks down. No blood. He presses his fingertips gently to his nose. It’s tender, but not horribly so.

“I’m good.”

Jack sighs and slumps back into the seat. “Thank god.”

He shuts his eyes and leans his head against the backrest. Bitty watches him, speechless. What are you meant to say when one of your favourite athletes ambushes your taxi? There is no precedent for that.

Eventually, Jack opens his eyes and turns to Bitty. “I really am sorry. I wasn’t thinking when I got in here.”

“Jumped,” Bitty corrects.

“Pardon?”

“Oh, it’s just. It’s more like you jumped in here, you know.”

Jack rubs at the back of his neck as his eyes drop to Bitty’s nose. “Yeah, guess so.”

Bitty nods slowly at him, and waits for further explanation, which doesn’t seem forthcoming. It’s not exactly surprising, judging from what little Bitty knows of Jack’s character from post-game interviews and Falconers Face-offs. He’s never been as verbal as some of his teammates. Still, you would think this situation would warrant an explanation.

“Why did you?” Bitty eventually asks, too curious to leave it alone.

Jack’s eyes dart out the window, then land back on Bitty. “It’s, uh, a little embarrassing, truthfully.”

“Try me.”

“Alright. I was–No, I should start with,” Jack mumbles to himself, then clears his throat. “I play hockey, and I’m, well, I’m… known.”

Bitty finds it almost endearing how uncomfortable Jack looks saying it.

Bitty nods. “I knew that part.”

Jack raises his eyebrows. “Really? But you haven’t–I mean, you’re not reacting…” He stops himself with a huff. “I really don’t know a good way to say it.”

“Star-struck?” Bitty suggests.

“Eh,” Jack shrugs.

“I played in college,” Bitty tells him. “Lived in a frat house with hockey players for years. You’ve lost all aura of mystery and un-touchability to me, I’m afraid.”

Jack looks him over, and Bitty can guess what thoughts are going through his head. Thankfully, he refrains from saying anything. Bitty might have thrown him out the taxi if he did.

“I don’t mind. It’s… a nice change, truthfully.” Jack even smiles at Bitty as he says it. It’s small, sure, but it’s also an expression Bitty has never ever seen on his face. It feels nice to be shown something of who Jack really is. Bitty looks out the window before he starts reading into it and spins this random encounter into a fantasy. He’s surprised to see he’s only a few blocks from home. It’s felt like no time at all.

“I was running away from some of the, uh, ‘other’ kind of fans,” Jack tells Bitty.

Bitty swings his head back around. “Who says I’m a fan?” he teases with mock-offense.

“Oh.” Jack looks abashed. “I just assumed, because you knew who I was. That’s terrible.”

Bitty laughs. “No, you’re right. You’re a great player.”

Jack seems to wait a second to see if Bitty will go back on his word. When he doesn’t, Jack gives that same small smile again, and dips his head down and away. Every second he spends in Jack’s presence, Bitty feels like he’s learning more about him.

“I’m almost done with the taxi,” Bitty tells Jack as the driver pulls around the corner onto his street.

“Oh,” Jack says, looking at Bitty. If he didn’t know any better, Bitty would call the expression on his face disappointment.

“It’s been nice talking with you, Jack.”

“Yeah. You too, ah…”

“Eric.”

Jack holds out his hand, and Bitty takes it. Jack’s hand feels big around his own, and surprisingly cold. Bitty can’t help but try and memorise as much of the feel of it as he can. He drops Jack’s hand quickly when he catches on to what he’s doing though. He doesn’t want to seem creepy, or like those ‘other fans’ Jack mentioned earlier.

The driver pulls up to the curb where Bitty directs him. Bitty reaches into his pocket for his wallet, but is stopped as Jack grabs onto his wrist.

Bitty tilts his head at Jack.

“Let me pay,” Jack says. “It’s only fair.”

“It’s really alright,” Bitty refutes automatically, distracted by the feeling of Jack’s fingers on his arm.

“Please. I want to. You didn’t have to let me stay in here with you.”

Bitty opens his mouth to decline again, but Jack adds on, “Plus, you know I’m good for it.”

Bitty stares at Jack for a moment before nodding his head.

He gets out and shuts the door behind him. The taxi idles on the curb as he searches for the keys to get into the building. He feels eyes on him and turns around to see Jack watching him through the window. He gestures to Jack to drive on, but Jack shakes his head.

Bitty turns back to the door and bites his lip, feeling flustered at the consideration Jack’s showing him. His hand shakes a little as he tries to fit the key in the lock, but he manages to get the door open, and turns to wave goodbye to Jack before closing the door behind him.

He walks up the stairs to his apartment in a daze, thinking that tonight is a memory he’s going to carry with him forever. The night he shared a taxi with Jack Zimmermann.

Inside his apartment, Bitty holds his hand in front of his face. He curls his fingers down to his palm, closing his eyes and remembering what it felt having Jack’s hand in his.

He sighs out as he opens his eyes. He’s not going to spin a crazy future for him and Jack out of this one interaction. At least, not after tonight he won’t.

[read part two]

Movie Date

Pairings: Peter Parker x Reader, slight Stony

Request:

Could you please write a Peterxreader where reader is the youngest member of the team. One day they have a movie date in the tower and the team spies on them?Could it be in the point of view of the team?[bonus points if deadpool is in it] thanks <3            


Wade has created a chatroom.

Wade has added Natasha, Tony, Thor, Bruce, Steve, Clint, Vision.

Clint: What, Wade?!

Tony: Can we text later? You’re going to distract me!

Bruce: I need to ask, but is it not weird that us, adults, are spying on Y/N and Peter, our youngest and most loved members movie date in a very cramped up spot?

Natasha: If you don’t like it, then you can leave, Banner. It’s not weird. We are just being protective parental units/uncles/adopted android sibling.

Vision: Overprotective*

Steve: Should they be sitting so close? Natasha, should they? Maybe I should go in and sit between them.

Tony: I will kick your ass, Rogers! Don’t you dare ruin their date!

Thor: Grab him, Stark! I shall lay Mjolnir upon him so he may not move.

Steve: Try it and I will run off with Mjolnir!

Thor: You? Worthy? HA! Do not fight us!

Steve: I know you have your doubts. I know deep down you know that I was faking not being able to lift Mjolnir. Would you like to test me?

Thor: Anyone has any rope?

Keep reading

Gendry ignored that. “At least your father raised his bastard, not like mine. I don’t even know my father’s name. Some smelly drunk, I’d wager, like the others my mother dragged home from the alehouse. Whenever she got mad at me, she’d say, ‘If your father was here, he’d beat you bloody.’ That’s all I know of him.” He spat. “Well, if he was here now, might be I’d beat him bloody. But he’s dead, I figure, and your father’s dead too, so what does it matter who he lay with?”

this is gendry. the show making him worship king bob is fucking absurd 

i guess i just remembered this story from the DEH stage door so Michael Park was the first person to come out and i was so fucking starstruck like holy shit thats Michael Park and when he gets to me hes super friendly and so incredibly sweet just taking his time to talk and sign things and so i say to him “i have to say i think you are the funniest member of this cast” and i explained that he was just so uplifting and funny in interviews and stuff and first he said “well when this is your job you can never take yourself too seriously” which is honestly great advice and then a little louder he says “hey make sure to tell Will Roland you think im the funniest when he comes around” and i swear i hear from all the way down the stage door line in a very tiny Will Roland voice “michael i swear to god” 

“When I open a door, no one can close it. And when I close a door, no one can open it. Revelation 3:7
Psalm 84:11-12 says, "The LORD bestows favour and honour. No good thing does He withhold from those who walk uprightly.
God loves us too much and knows us too well to give us everything we ask for. A closed door may seem like failure on our part but it’s in fact His sovereign protection over us, perhaps from potential harm or danger. It may be a divine detour into something amazing. Be sure that His plan for our lives is always better.
God is not setting you up for disappointment or failure. He’s setting you up for something better. And when He opens the right door, no one will be able to shut it. God’s plans for you will succeed and His promises stand firm forever.

anonymous asked:

What if Stiles and Derek's first kiss is post-nogitsune? Would he feel like a thief? Would he mourn the body that Derek never held? Would each brush of fingertips or kiss to his temple be a betrayal? They'd probably talk about the scars too. Derek would understand-- to an extent. But he grew up not without his history on his skin so he'll never understand how it feels to have that ripped away.

Their lips brush and Stiles turns away a second later, breaths shallow, hands twitching against the folds of Derek’s shirt. There’s warm breath on his cheek, the ghost of beard still so close and all Stiles can think is that he wants this. He wants this. And…

It’s wrong.

Those fingers, twitching against Derek’s shirt, smooth and uncalloused. The scar that used to live above his third knuckle just a burn-hot memory in his mind.

Everything still feels off in his body, out of balance, and he remembers the way Derek used to look at him. All tension and frustration in ways he couldn’t start to make sense of. And now Derek’s lips are in reach, a short turn away, and he’s murmuring out “Stiles…?” and all Stiles can think is…

“Do you want me?”

He can feel the stall in Derek’s thoughts like a physical reaction, and he wonders if there was a subtle tell or if… if he’d just felt it, inside, the confusion a flicker of chaos in Derek’s chest. Can he do that? Feel chaos? The Nogitsune drank it in and Stiles…

“Stiles,” Derek breathes again, a quirk of amusement in his tone. Thumbs smooth down his hips and Stiles fights the urge to rise into the contact. “Thought I’d just answered that question.”

And Stiles could leave it at that, asked and answered. Except…

There should be a scar on his hip, long and thin, from a fence he’d scaled once and dropped down five times faster. Derek should be feeling that right now, that piece of Stiles’ history, that stupid ten year old adventure laid out across his skin. But the skin’s smooth. Blank slate.

He shivers, gripping tighter into Derek’s shirt.

“No, I––” He can’t think of how to explain it. The thoughts are a choked feeling in his throat, a twist in his gut. Something like guilt and fear and he doesn’t even know what answer he wants when he leans back enough to find Derek’s eyes and say: “Since when? Did you… I mean, before…”

He’s not sure Derek knows what he means, but there’s a hint of flush under that dark beard suddenly, and Stiles gets a little bit lost in the contrast.

“Last summer.”

“Last––?” It pulls Stiles back, his eyes startling up. That was… most of a year, that was before…

A sick lurch sets him falling back out of Derek’s grip. Too-smooth fingers (uncalloused) slip too easy from Derek’s chest. His sneaker-covered feet might as well be walking over glass and he’s being dramatic except that he’s really not. Because if Derek wanted him last summer…

“That wasn’t me.” It sounds wrong as he says it, stupid, because… he was there that summer. He remembers every moment spent with Derek, researching the Alphas, searching for hints of Boyd and Erica. Charged smirks and snark and quiet moments that felt more comfortable than they should. He remembers the moments before summer too, when the thought of Derek made his heart pound and his body thrum in a way that could have only meant fear, except it hadn’t only been fear. He’d been scared of the Alpha too, and the hunters, and that coil of electric heat only sparked through his gut for Derek. He remembers that, like he remembers the scars that aren’t there anymore, and he can’t help running his too-soft fingertips over the smooth flesh of his knuckle as he breathes out, faint and lost, “…Was that me?”

There’s a too long pause while the question burns back into his throat, buzzing through his limbs like a current until he realizes he’s shaking from them. Was that him? Helping Derek track the Alpha pack? Helping Scott learn to control his wolf? Sitting by his mom’s hospital bed, watching her lose the long war to her illness, pieces of her flaking away like old scars, like a whole identity, like––

A warm hand closes over his, large and gentle, grounding.

“It was you,” Derek says, simply. Like there’s no question, like nothing’s changed. Like Stiles hasn’t changed. 

But that’s wrong. He’s not the same person he was before the Nogitsune, and he’s not talking in the experiences change you, huh kind of way. He’d had scars before. He’d had… a whole life written on his skin. And then he’d crawled out from inside his possessed body’s throat, spawned out like some alien parasite or… clone and––

“My body died, back there.” Four months past, and he still can’t wrap his head around it. That he’d watched himself bitten and impaled, spasm and cracking and shatter to dust.

The scarred body. His real body.

And he was left in… this.

Long fingers uncurl, stretching out slow. Thin, pale digits fitting strangely perfect between Derek’s, and Stiles can only wonder what it would have looked like before.

“…What if I’m not real?” He watches Derek’s fingers twitch, barely perceptible, tightening like they’re fighting to hold onto him. And Derek’s lost enough in his life, too much. It’s a dick move to say this, to take anything else away from him, but… “What if the guy you wanted last summer… what if he died inside the Nogitsune, and I’m just––”

No.”

The sureness of it has Stiles’ throat clenching. He tilts his head, challenging. Finds Derek’s eyes again.

“You don’t know that.”

“I know you.”

Which is just… it’s stupid how that makes Stiles’ heart jump. Flutter around like it’s fighting to leap the distance between them and plaster itself all up against Derek’s stupid, muscled, secretly sweet as hell chest.

Which… yeah, that’s nearly a gross enough visual to stomp his fondness boner in the bud. He sets his jaw.

“Did you know I used to have a scar on––”

“Your right hand? Just above the third knuckle, a burn.”

Stiles’ argument stalls out. He blinks, finger shifting to rub over the space, but Derek’s is already there, soothing the phantom mark over his skin.

“I… was eleven.” Because silence has never been safe for him. Because noise distracts from the too-easy pleasure rippling up his arm. “First time I tried cooking dinner for me and dad. Mac and cheese, it… didn’t go great.” He wets his lips. Looks away “Or… the other me did, I don’t––”

You did.” And Derek still sounds so damn sure. Stiles wants to believe him. He parts his lips, can’t. Because––

“Stiles, I’ve never had scars on my skin. I… can’t relate to what it’s like to lose them. But the things that have happened to me… they’re not any less real because I can’t see them. Every bullet, cut, punch I’ve taken…” He might sense the wince forming on Stiles’ face, and shakes his head, shrugging that off like it’s not important. But that’s an argument for another day. “Every scar life gave you… they’re still there. You’re still carrying them, inside you.” He flits his eyes down Stiles’ frame, then away, finger soothing over the ghost burn. “There are plenty no one would have ever seen anyway. But they made you. Who you are, and who you are…” He shakes his head, looks back to meet Stiles’ eyes squarely. “You recognized me when I was a teenager. That’s the same person who recognized me in the preserve.” Stiles feels his face heat because… even knowing Derek’s a werewolf now, he’d never put together that Derek would have heard his fangirl moment to Scott after Derek had walked away.

Before he can speak up, though, Derek’s going on. “You tracked me to Mexico. Faced down the Calaveras to save me. That’s the same person who stared down the Argents, drove a Jeep into a kanima, who hit an Alpha with a wooden baseball bat––”

“Two Alphas,” Stiles cuts in, because props, ok? “Two, that were…” His free hand mimes squishing, and Derek’s lips twitch.

“Two,” he agrees, and Stiles can’t not smile back. Just for a second –– fond, helpless –– then he’s ducking his head. Derek sighs, catches his chin. Guides it up until their gazes lock again.

“That was you,” he says, so firmly Stiles can’t help believing this time. “Was the man who clawed his way out of his own possession. Followed Scott’s howl back to the real world. And whatever happened to your body, whatever… magic gave you a new one, Stiles came out with it. Your scars are still there, just…” His fingers trail to Stiles’ chest, and something thumps out eagerly to meet them.

“Inside,” Stiles breathes, and the way Derek’s eyes warm makes him shiver with a proud ripple of pleasure.

“Inside,” Derek echoes. Runs a thumb light along Stiles’ lip. “You could have come out of the Nogitsune looking like anything. Wouldn’t change who you are.”

And damn, Stiles has fallen for a goddamn poet in a grumpy wolf’s body. …But then, Stiles is pretty sure he’d known that already.

His fingers go up, curl gently into Derek’s shirt.

“But… you like this body,” he prompts, and Derek gives an exasperated huff, pulling him in.

“I like this body,” he confirms, and it doesn’t feel wrong to hear that.

When Derek kisses him this time, Stiles doesn’t pull away.

I see a lot of stuff that says “if you want to know what you would have done in the Holocaust/Civil Rights etc., it’s what you’re doing now.”

On some level, this is true. People tell themselves they would have been great heroes in La Resistance and would’ve hidden Jews and marched against segregation but when unarmed black teenagers are shot for being in the wrong neighborhood they shrug and say “well, he probably looked suspicious,” and tell Jews that the literal nazis shouting antisemitic threats on the streets of an American city are people too and shouldn’t be met with force.

But it’s only true for people who are on the sidelines both then and now. Because you know what a lot of my friends and I would’ve been doing in the Holocaust? Either being murdered or running from being murdered. You know what black people were doing during slavery and Jim Crow? Being fucking enslaved. Being second-class citizens under the law and being in danger from racists who could act with impunity.  Like, ok, it’s great that you want people who aren’t threatened by these events to take a good long look at themselves and their moral priorities but let’s not forget that for a lot of people, it wasn’t a choice back then, and it’s not a choice now. That’s a really big piece of the picture here.

Oh Sehun//Fast Lane

Originally posted by lawlliets

Summary: You finally find out how your big cousin earns her money - she’s the flag girl for the illegal street races in your neighborhood, and now she’s dragging you along. And that’s where you meet the Hawaii-shirt wearing, orange-headed Oh Sehun, ace street racer and smartass.
Scenario: street racer!au 
Word Count: 6,337

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

In that blood sweat and tears run do you know what was wrong with Jimin? He looked pretty bad...

This ask is about this post HERE

Jimin was very stressed because he got to the first part of Blood Sweat & tears. He says “I was nervous from the recording stage. Bang Shihyuk PD-nim told me ‘You’re fine, do well’ but it became a burden too since the first impression of the song is on me. I worked on it thinking ‘I have to pull it off somehow" 

Originally posted by jungkookpd

He was also going through a harsh diet so he ended up being tired during practice and recording.He opened up about it in Wings concept book: ”I worked out for about 2 years, but I lost about 7kg after dieting this time. I was pretty sensitive during my diet. When we practiced the choreography together, I was the only one knocked over, not because I was hungry but because I had no strength(laughs) It was inevitable so the members could only feel sorry for me. Jin-hyung told me ‘Eat with me. Why do you have to do that?’, but I just told him “No, I need to do it” and continued to diet.”

Find the full interview at @ktaebwi HERE

I’ve Got You

IT’S WHUMP WEEK! Hope you’re all as excited for this as I am. I’m going to try and throw some (k)lance whump at you every day!

Day One- Fever


Lance glared up at the ceiling with narrowed eyes, as if its very presence offended him. “Why do we even make plans?” he wondered aloud. “They always go south, anyways.”

Keith rolled his eyes. “If we just stormed into Galra bases with no idea what we were doing, then we’d be caught pretty easily.”

Lance eyed him, unimpressed. His skin looked unusually pale in the dim, purple light. “Kinda like how we are now?”

Keep reading

BTS Reaction | Wanting them to cum on your breasts.

Request; bts reaction to you wanting them to cum on your breasts while sucking them off or just asking them out of the blue 

Kim Namjoon

Namjoon loved doing things like that, so of course, he would end up agreeing. He would find it even more of a turn on that you had asked him rather than him having to ask if he could.

“On your breasts? You know me too well Y/N”

Kim Seokjin

Jin wouldn’t quite expect you to ask him to do something like that but he wouldn’t completely turn down the idea. The more he thought about it the more the more he liked the idea.

“I mean I’m not saying no, let’s just see how I feel when it comes to that”

Min Yoongi

Yoongi would put the idea off at the start, wondering why you would want him to cum on your breasts with the mess it’d make, especially when you had a perfectly good mouth.

“Really? Think of the mess…your mouth is perfectly good…I really do love your tits though”

Jung Hoseok

Hoseok hadn’t put much thought into the idea before but when you mentioned it he knew it was something he would at least want to try once, loving to see how wrecked you’d look beneath him, covered in his release.

“I think I’d like that baby, maybe you would let me do it more often”

Park Jimin

Jimin would agree right away, your breasts were one of his favorite things despite you being insecure about your size. He’d position himself so he was aiming straight for your breasts. 

“My princess is going to let me cum all over her breasts?”

Kim Taehyung

Taehyung would be too lost in the way you were making him feel with your hand wrapped around him. He wouldn’t even think about it twice when you asked, letting his release spill out over your chest.

“F-fuck Y/N, that’s so hot”

Jeon Jungkook

Jungkook would be even more turned on when you asked than he was before. He’d still be a little nervous about doing it so when he was about to cum, he would double check that was what you wanted.

“Y-you really want me to come on your tits?”

“What’s it like?” Bittle asked one evening as they settled on Jack’s couch with their nightcaps: red wine for Bittle, chamomile tea for Jack. “Being bi?”

Jack chuckled. “That’s a complicated questions, Bits.”

“Oh, c’mon,” Bittle said, taking a small sip of the petite syrah Jack’s parents had sent them after Jack announced their relationship. “You’ve heard all my bellyachin’ about growing up gay in Georgia-” He was cut off momentarily by the beginnings of Jack’s protests, but waved him off. “Fine, my completely legitimate struggles. Better?”

Jack grinned and nodded. Bittle rolled his eyes fondly.

“But you rarely talk about your experiences. When did you know you weren’t straight? How did you realize you liked girls and boys? Was it harder or easier or just different being bi in Juniors?”

“You’ve thought about this a lot,” Jack said mildly, blowing at the steam rising from his mug.

“Of course I have,” Bittle said with an exasperated look. “I think about you a lot.”

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an au (inspired by this post) in which Annabeth is a mob boss and Percy is her ocean photographer boyfriend. Shout out to Hannah for being the best beta ever and for headcanoning this au with me pretty much non stop for the last few days. 

The fluorescent lights of the interrogation room flicker, giving it a strange glow that makes Percy’s eyes hurt. His fingers tap the beat of some pop song that had played on the radio earlier today onto the metal table that sits in front of him. The table is cool to the touch despite the warm, stale air that hangs in the room, and the accompanying metal chair is starting to make his butt numb despite it only having been here ten minutes.

Shuffling sounds begin emanating from the door in the corner of the room across from Percy, and soon it creaks open. First to step through is a tall blonde man with piercing blue eyes. His athletic build fills up the doorway as he pauses briefly to appraise Percy. Percy appraises him right back, noticing a scar on the corner of the detective’s lip and half of a tattoo that peaks out from under the cuff of his sleeve.

As soon as the detective steps into the room, another enters behind him. Her posture is impeccable and she walks with her head held high like she’s a warrior entering battle. That can’t be good, Percy thinks afterwards. She has on a royal purple blouse that pops against her brown skin, and her black hair is pulled into a braid that cascades over her shoulder.

“Hello, Mr. Jackson,” starts the blonde detective. “I’m Detective Grace and this is my partner Detective Arellano. Thanks so much for agreeing to come down to the station today to talk to us today.”

Percy smiles with a calm confidence, “Of course. Always happy to do my civic duty.”

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Spiderman’s(?) Abs

Request: Hi! I really love your stories! Could you please do a fic where reader is partially deaf so she can read peoples lips to help her understand people, then she accidentally reads Peters lips and he’s talking about her?

A/N: Wow i’m sorry I’m such a slow writer, jeez. Sorry for being slow at this. I also hope this is what you were looking for. I’m sorry I was too lazy to do research on being partially deaf.

Word Count: 1344

Warnings: Extreme mentions of abs?

Masterlist

Part 2

You were Michelle’s best friend, or only friend, as she called you. You were good friends with Peter and Ned as well. You were in marching band with Peter, well, before he quit. But you were also on the Decathlon team with them.

You didn’t find yourself seeing Peter and Ned outside of school very often anymore. Not since Peter got his internship with Tony Stark.

You had been partially deaf since you were younger. This had always been an extreme struggle for you because of how much you love music. You could still hear some things. You could hear the chatter in the cafeteria at lunch, but you couldn’t really make out anything anyone was saying. In band you could still feel the beat, which really helped.

Although, over the years, you’ve somewhat mastered reading people’s lips. It was how you would take notes in class, understand what your friends were saying, and essentially everything else.

Most of the time you would sit at a lunch table with Michelle, at the table next to Peter and Ned. It was hard for you to pay attention to an entire conversation. Everyone was always nice about it, especially Peter.

When you sat down for lunch with Peter, Michelle, and Ned, they were already deep in conversation.

“Hey Y/N,” Peter smiled.

“Hi Peter,” you said

You smiled at Ned and Michelle too.

Michelle had her head stuck in a book, so you tried to pay attention to what Peter and Ned were talking about.

“Are you going to tell her?” Ned asked Peter

“Tell who what?” You asked, inserting yourself into the conversation

“Oh it’s nothing,” you read off Peter’s lips.

“Please, Parker. I know you well enough to know when you’re lying,”

“I think you should tell Y/N,” Ned said

“I also think you should tell Y/N” you said

Peter turned his head to the side and whispered something to Ned.

“Come on Peter, that’s not fair at all,”

Ned shrugged and continued to listen to Peter speak. Eventually Peter turned around to face you once again.

“Sorry, Y/N. That was on a need to know basis,”

“Not fair at all, Peter,”

After lunch you headed to your chemistry class with Peter and Ned. You sat a few benches in front of them. Every once and a while you would turn around and see the two talking.

You attempted to read their lips to see what they were talking about. You were still curious as to what Peter wouldn’t tell you at lunch.

You stared at Ned and Peter for a while, but you were only able to make out a few words here or there. For a moment you thought you saw Peter say your name, but he turned to look at you so you immediately looked away.

You were sure that they were probably talking about lunch. What else would they be talking about?

When class was over, you tried to catch up with Peter to walk with him to your next class,

“So are you ever going to tell me this secret of yours?” You asked Peter

You turned to him to read his response

“Which secret?” He teased

“The one you and Ned were talking about at lunch, and last period. I saw you say my name, Peter. I know something’s up,”

“Don’t worry about it, Y/N,” Peter said as you walked into your physics classroom.

It was now really bugging you why Peter wouldn’t tell you what was going on. But you really had no way to talk to Peter in this class, he sat too far away.

You pulled out your phone and sent him a message

Y/N: Do you not trust me or something?

Peter: Of course I trust you!

Y/N: then what’s going on with you

Peter: Well my “secret” is something I want to tell you but I’m just not ready to.

Y/N:  it can’t be that bad

Peter: No, but i’m kinda worried about how you will react

Y/N: What if I promised I would react in an appropriate fashion

Peter: I dunno

Y/N: Please, Peter. Its not like you’re Spiderman or anything right?

Y/N: Cause if you were I’d have to kick your ass, you know that right

Peter: I don’t even know what to say to that

Y/N: Oh my god. Are you Spiderman?

Y/N: I mean that would explain your abs and oh damn

Peter: When have you seen me shirtless…

Y/N: Me? WHo? I dont know what you’re talking about.

Y/N: Fine, so you’re not Spiderman but that still doesn’t explain the secret you’re keeping from me or your abs

Peter: I’m still so curious why you know I have abs

Y/N: Don’t ignore my question

Peter: You’re never going to let this go are you

Y/N: Of course not. You may as well just tell me.

Peter: Fine, i’ll telll you after school today in person.

Y/N: Looovveeee you Parker

Peter: Yeah, yeah

You smiled and put your phone back in your pocket. You were excited to know what Peter didn’t want you to know.

After school, you met Peter at his locker.

“So are you finally going to tell me?” You asked

Peter turned to you, “Let’s go somewhere where there are less people,”

You nodded and followed Peter into the empty music room.

“THis better be a juicy secret, Parker. I’m missing band for this,”

Peter took in a deep breath “LookY/N-ireallylikeyouandwanttodateyou” he said quickly

“Peter, I think you’re forgetting that I can’t exactly completely hear you, and when you talk like that I can’t read your lips either,”

Peter stared at you for a second before you spoke again, “Enunciate, for the love of god,”

Before Peter could speak you interrupted him again “You are Spiderman, aren’t you. I just don’t understand how you could get those abs unless you were Spiderman. Sure you do sit ups in gym, but that does not explain it,”

“Y/N? Are you done?” Peter asked

“You’re right. You couldn’t be Spiderman,”

“I could so be Spiderman,” Peter got defensive

“Eh,” you shrugged

“Look, that’s not what I wanted to tell you,”

“So spill,”

Peter Licked his lips, “Y/N, I really like you,”

“Well, I like you too Parker, but I don’t under-OH”

“Yeah. I like you as more than a friend,”

“Oh. Well then I guess I should probably tell you that I like you are more that a friend too,”

“You do?”

“Yeah, and your abs aren’t even the reason why. I mean, they’re part of the reason, but only a little part,” you teased

“Jeez, Y/N, what is it with you and abs?”

You shrugged and look a few steps closer to Peter.

“So, if I like you, and you like me, and you were to ask me on a date sometime, and we went on more than one date, would that mean that sometime, eventually, I’d get to see those lovely abs of yours?”

Peter laughed, “Y/N, would you like to go on a date with me?”

“Yes,” you smiled.

Peter stepped forward and placed a hand on your face, and another on your hips. He slowly leaned down and pressed his lips on yours.

You leaned forwards and pressed your chest against his, slowly moving your hands under his shirt.

Peter laughed into your kiss.

“Sorry Parker, I couldn’t help myself. You’re just really pretty,”

“You’re really pretty too, Y/N,”

“So wait, that was your secret? That you have a crush on me?”

“Yes, that was my secret,” 

“I think a better secret would have been if you were Spiderman,”