my men tho

I love how everyone thinks bts are rich men who can buy every single Gucci product and doesn’t care if drinks spill on their $2000 suits when in reality jungkook ran away with jimin’s money faster than the flash and yoongi almost went into the ocean to save like $20 or $10

Things that fucked me up in The Foxhole Court series (warning: spoilers):

  • Every single time Andrew did something just because Neil asked
  • “He pressed Andrew’s palm to the ugly scarring across Neil’s abdomen” 
  • Dan’s entire existence as the biggest boss in the galaxy
  • “You are a pipe dream.”
  • “I am not a pipe dream.  I’m not going anywhere.”
  • Renee saving Jean
  • Renee doing literally anything
  • Wymack hating that Neil flinches away from him and doing everything he can to prove he’s the good male role model Neil deserves???
  • RESPONSIBLE AND CARING ADULTS
  • “You hate me, remember?” “Every inch of you,” Andrew said.  “That doesn’t mean I wouldn’t blow you.” ANDREW LMAO
  • SHOWER BLOW JOB/CODDLING/ANDREW FINALLY LETTING GO ENOUGH TO LET NEIL SEE HIM FEEL PLEASURE (partly because he can’t bear to leave Neil’s side to take care of it alone FUCK)
  • “Yes or no?”
  • VIGOROUS CONSENT and Andreil knowing each other well enough to tell when the other isn’t in a good enough place to consent even when they think they are??
  • Neil calling Andrew a “drama queen” behind his back
  • Nicky getting the happiness he deserves in Erik
  • “Who’s humanizing who in that relationship, anyway?” NICKY OMFG
  • Andrew needing to map every single scar/wound on Neil’s body and Neil letting him
  • Andrew saying “I told you not to look at me like that” after Neil stares at him with fucking giant anime heart eyes when the sunlight hits his hair
  • Matt and his spikey hair (/everything)
  • Casual 3 hour bus chats where Andreil loses track of time smh
  • How fucking short Andreil is???  5 foot **nothing*** is right
  • Neil saying he wants a vacation and Andrew almost cutting Kevin’s dick off when he tries to get in the way of it
  • BED SHARING IN THE CABIN ffs
  • Honestly that whole woodland retreat with team bonding took me the fuck out
  • “The only one I’m interested in is you.”  Demi!Neil is watering every crop in my field??
  • “Thank you.  You were amazing.”  (aka me @ Nora Sakavic)

Traitors

I’m really tired of seeing people pity B.A.P. Like the entire “they’ve gone through so much with their law suit and their shitty company and losing fans when they went on hiatus!!!”. Like yes this all happened but B.A.P is so incredibly strong and beautiful that they didn’t let them bring them down, they all worked through their hardships and all came out of it prouder of themselves and their fans, stronger than ever and more free to do as they please making music that fits all of our needs.

Stop trying to pity B.A.P, they honestly don’t need it???? Just support and cherish and love OT6 for as long as you can, that’s how you can show your love for these boys.

They Wanna Make Me Their Queen

( Prompt: princess diaries style “I grew up not knowing I was royal and suddenly my royal grandparent showed up out of nowhere and told me I was so now I guess I’m the heir to the throne and you’re my crush from my pre-royal days but I still have a crush on you” AU ) 

PART 3

A/N: So my crush talked to me today ( it was just a simple hello but I DIED ), and I died again when I saw Tom Holland strip down to his boxers in that new trailer. My friends are probably sick and tired of hearing about me rant about Tom Holland’s abs and my new husband, Matt Murdock.

Taglist (temporary): @theactualscarletwitch | @moonlight53 | @intohook | @alaskayoung-x | @kubby14679 | @clean-and-claire | @fandoms-broke-my-life | @johnmurphys-sass | @queenofthelavalamps

Taglist (permanent): @mainspidey | @x-wing-starwriter | @tomsleftbrow | @tryn25 | @tanglefire |@midnight-memorial | @tiny-friggin-human


As it turns out, you don’t have to worry about keeping secrets from your friends for long.

After about a month of gruelling ‘after-school’ sessions with an endless string of tutors, of having to come up with flimsy excuses for cancelling on outings and get-togethers, of having to tough out the agony of avoiding Peter’s soft and concerned eyes that beg you to tell him what’s wrong, the paparazzi snap pictures of you and your grandmother having afternoon tea in the Hilton. They’d put two and two together, and before you could say, “I have a crush on Peter Parker”, pictures of you are splashed all over the front page.

Your phone’s been buzzing non-stop, but you’ve been ignoring the messages and missed calls – Did you even know fifty people from Midtown High? – too focused on your very furious grandmother, who’s been pacing the room, a wild animal in cage. Peter’s face, coupled with his adorable smile, flashes across your screen for the tenth time; you flip your phone over so that you won’t have to see his picture.

“Grandmother, I’m sorry,” You apologise meekly. “This is my fault.”

Throwing the papers aside with an impatient huff, your grandmother rounds on you, her eyes fierce and piercing. You almost regret having said anything.

“Silly child,” She says, her tone warm and exasperated all at once. “How on earth is it your fault? It’s the damn press –”

You’ve never heard her swear before. It makes you giggle.

“Frankly, I’m surprised that we’ve been able to keep you out of the public eye for so long.” She shakes her head, deep in thought. “But now that the – How do you say – dog’s out of the kennel, we’ll just have to make the most of things.”

“What’s going to happen to my baby?” Your mother demands, going into full mother-bear mode, her voice holding an edge of protectiveness to it. “Is (Y/n) going to be safe?”

(M/n), I assure you that precautions are being taken, even as we speak. There will be increased security –”

You’re sure your face turns pale at the thought of having a team of beefy bodyguards on your heels 24/7.

“– We’ll enroll her in some self-defense classes, we’ll get her a Taser, some pepper spray … Whatever’s necessary. I swear on the Crown of Serangoon that I will do anything and everything in my power to keep (Y/n) safe.” Grandmother sighs then, having gotten it out of her system, and continues. “However, I think a press conference is in order. We’ll have to introduce (Y/n) to the public officially, and the date of Coronation Day will have to be pushed forward –”

Your mother and grandmother launch into a deep and lengthy conversation about banquets, fittings, classes. And all you can do is sit there, your head spinning, a satellite out of orbit.

At least you don’t faint this time. 

It’s progress, at least, you think.


You walk into school the next day, and nearly run out screaming for Stanley to take you back home, press camped outside the school be damned.

Stanley had had to muscle his way through about three feet of screaming paparazzi pressing themselves onto you from all directions, screaming out their questions, the camera flashes blinding and searing themselves into your retinas.

Everyone wants a piece of you, it seems. Kids goggle at you when you walk down the halls; in addition to the news article, there had been a news report filled with pictures of you: From a smiley, gap-toothed, pig-tailed (Y/n) to a teenaged (Y/n), smashing her cheek with Peter, clowning about for the camera. The press had raided your Snapchat, Instagram and Facebook accounts, it seemed. You’d had the misfortune of seeing the report at a diner, but the fortune of having Stanley and his limo nearby; you’d ran out before anyone could identify you.

Kids you barely know, have barely talked to in the past year – nerds, jocks, Queen Bees – all stop to talk to you. A year ago, you wouldn’t have been breathing the same air as them; but now, all everyone wants is to talk to you, to ask for your autograph, to invite you to parties.

Worse, your friends are slipping away. You manage to wave to Michelle only once, in a corridor, surrounded by your new fan club. She doesn’t return it. Her eyes are huge and dark and accusing, all at once. As for Peter – he’s taken to spending time with Ned, and he can’t quite look you in the eyes, even when you try to catch his gaze. 

You know that you have a whole lot of apologizing and explaining to do, but how can you possibly start if your friends have already decided that they want nothing to do with you? To avoid encountering Peter, you bury yourself in your phone and hurry away. Every instance leaves you with a frigid soreness buried so deep inside that no amount of heat could wring it out.

On second thought, you accept that party invitation.


You’re wearing a slim black Costume National sheath dress, a strand of pearls around your neck. Your hair is neat, your face made up with a thick layer of makeup. You look like you’re a famous model – or a princess – and you can feel the press staring at you as you walk into the room with Grandmother.

You’d caved, had tried to dial Peter on your cell phone with trembling fingers, but it’d gone straight to voicemail. You try not to think it’s because he hates you.

Grandmother handles the interview like a pro. Public speaking is not your forte – there had been an unfortunate incident in the fourth grade involving a judging panel at the annual talent show, and the front row of students being covered in vomit. All you have to do is fix a vapid smile onto your glossed lips, sitting stiffly between your mother and grandmother.

“Princess (Y/n),” Someone’s saying your name now, and you immediately glance up, more than a little startled at being addressed. “We’ve received pictures of you and a boy identified as Peter Parker. Is he your boyfriend?”

Your hands are shaking. Your knuckles are white when you ball them up into fists. You might have a security detail, a whole armoury of weapons and weekly self-defense classes, but Peter, Ned and Michelle don’t. If you’re not careful, someone could hurt them to get to you. 

And you don’t think you could live with yourself if it did happen.

Protect your friends, only to lose them … Or disregard their safety for your own selfishness?

It’s not even a choice.

Your mouth is dry. You have to practically force the words out of your mouth. “No. No, they – Peter was just a … He’s not important. None of them are.”

The moment the lie leaves your lips, you want to scream. You want to take all your words back.

But you can’t.

6

x men: wheelchair parkour

[xma comics]

i don’t understand the “date a girl with daddy issues” thought process because let me tell you, i actively HATE the man who gave his sperm for my creation so if you are trying to come into my life to prey on my “weakness” when it comes to men, don’t look so surprised when i rip your balls off and filet them right in front of you. thank you.

Did Damien get inspired by a certain ancient pillar man?

sorry I can’t draw thicc bara men skjhgksjdfhks