not even sure why i made this

10

Four!!, Part 3:  Cake!
(Parts 1 and 2)

After I put on my special birthday hat and met my new unicorn pool float friend, it was time for my favorite part:  Cake!  In keeping with my rainbow-themed birthday party, Mom made me a rainbow cake this year!  I was so excited that I tried to fit my whole cake in my mouth at once!

Mom made sure every layer of my rainbow cake was delicious:  Red watermelon, orange carrots, yellow apple, green frilly kale, and purple radicchio—topped with four pretty origami stars, one for every one of my four years!  I didn’t know where to start!!

Even Brunhilda was excited about my rainbow cake!

This isn’t a simple Elentori repost.

This is me, showing you how sometimes, artists can let themselves be influenced by a peer too heavily. And that simple inspiration can become near-plagiarism.

I’m not putting credit, even if none of these examples are from the same person. I’ve made that decision so no one gets shit over this– though I’m sorry because they are all great pieces, and I know a lot of time and work were put into all of them. I’m not here to bash, or to try and lessen anyone’s worth and talent. Plus– this could have happened with anyone. These are simply the examples I have collected over the past few months.

Last disclaimer: All of the artists above have not repeated this very often, if at all, of what I’ve seen. In fact, it’s not always copying. Just being inspired very heavily (as seen above). And I can see how good they are: Their potential, and, above all, their obvious talent. All in all, I simply want to point out one last time that this is not against them at all. They have simply provided me with the examples I need to make a point.

And who would I be showing other pieces without calling myself out: I’ve done it too, and I include myself in everything I’m saying. It is because I’ve done it, actually, that I take it to heart so much.

Which is fucking embarassing to admit so bear with me.

In fact, even if you do recognize any other of these pieces, don’t give anyone trouble. Please just– don’t ever send good-willed artists hate. Chances are, they were having a nice day before you showed up.

So… it’s well-known there are many ways for artists to learn. To become better: And one of these methods is to copy others.

But usually, these studies remain in your personal folders. They are not to post and claim as your own. Or if you do post them: you’d share it for what it is, I’m assuming.

And this is where this trend gets a little dismaying. In neither of the original posts was there a mention that Elentori was the inspiration. Even though it is obvious to any onlooker. Not even hidden in the tags. And I’ve checked all of these blogs’ archives just to make sure that I was not mistaking the copying and the copied.

I’m not diminishing Elentori’s work either: She’s a great reference, and I don’t know a soul who dislikes her work or doubts her talent. She’s actually made a brand for herslelf and that’s why her style lifts from the masses.

But that’s exactly it: she has found her own style, and it’s working out great for her. And that’s what I wish upon every other artist out there.

There is no reason to purposely put yourself in someone’s shadow, just because you admire them so much.

So like Noah Bradley says in his art camp:

Study art from masters. The older, the better. And if they’re dead, that’s the best. There’s nothing else they could’ve taught you.

(This isn’t an actual quote, it’s just very much the message he gives from what I remember.)

I would change that a little: Copy masters (Master painters, Disney illustrators… and there are more) as well, and especially. Don’t just copy trends or trendsetters, guys. Find your own signature. Something that others will want to copy as well. Something that’ll be uniquely yours. Try different things. Dwelve in cartoons even when you’re into realistic things. Just to better yourself.

And here’s a thought:

Can we make it socially acceptable to be comfortable, as artists, to cite our inspiration? To say;; hey, I tried this artist’s style today. Here’s how it turned out!! Because there must be a reason why we don’t do it. And maybe it’s some untold social construct?

I don’t know. I just think we should move past it.

GONE
by Lindsay Smith

They told us things would be tougher after the war, but I didn’t know they mean quite like this.

Cold metal, slipping in my sweaty palms. Ears ringing. My face flecked with powder, but it’s still hot, so hot, it burns like ash.

And then of course the man before me, face forever frozen like I just called him something rude, hand pressed to the hole in his lungs as he goes down.

Let me explain.

I was always like this, see, not the killing part, but the part that led up to it. The part where I found me a bone and gnawed and gnawed at it like a dog possessed. “Annalisa,” Pa would say, that tone both scolding and proud, “maybe it’s time to give it a rest, huh? Worry about something else for a while.” But when I found me a mystery, I clung to it, until one of us was solved.

Usually it was as simple as finding where our downstairs neighbor’s good pearls got off to (her husband’s bookie) or who’d gotten the landlady’s daughter in a family way. In the war, I made a bit of a name for myself, nothing official, of course, but the cops came to me all the same. Their best detectives had been poached by the OSS and so on, and they just needed a hand dealing with the vagrants who’d somehow slipped the draft—purse thieves and smugglers and all the other shits you find down south of Houston or lurking around the docks. Pa’d already gone to Europe then, so there was no one but old Mrs. Dougherty to tell me I couldn’t, and she’d turn her glass eye to anything as long as her cooking sherry stayed stocked.  I solved everything from break-ins to embezzlers, and didn’t feel a bit bad about a single one of the creeps and goons I got locked up, even though I didn’t get much credit (or any at all).

Bianca, though … Bianca I felt bad about. But then I’m jumping ahead.

When the war ended and the men came home—though some of ‘em, like Pa, made the trip in a wooden box—they warned me it was going to be hard. The best thing I could do was find myself a man, young, not too shellshocked, who was so damn happy to be home and alive that he wouldn’t mind what a boatload of trouble I was. Mrs. Daughtery couldn’t watch me forever, and I was old enough I didn’t need her by then. I tried dating, thought admittedly not hard, but I’d have had more fun sitting across the diner booth from a box of soap. Every guy was a crossword and I’d solved ‘em by the time the waitress brought our main course.

What I wanted was work. Real work. Work I could hang a shingle on, and get paid enough to live, not just to buy myself something at the soda fountain. I needed to rent a room of my own before I wore out all my excuses with our landlady, before the government checks ran out.

But the cops suddenly didn’t want me, at least not at any price I could afford to take. So I pawned my grandpa’s old pocket watch and took out a newspaper ad.

Mostly it was other women who came to me. We were all in the same boat; we’d had a purpose for a few years, were building a career, then just as quickly it was gone. I saw housewives who were going stir crazy, imagining murderers next door, their husbands’ affairs, even a neighbor who didn’t smile at them just right. They weren’t always wrong, but it was quick, easy work, and that never paid the bills. Not that they had much to give me on their own, scraping together nickels from their grocery money on the sly, but I took the jobs anyway. We were in this together, after the war.

Then Bianca stormed into my world and there’s no way I was going to end up unscathed.

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anonymous asked:

what's with all these idiots saying she's playing a mixed race character ??? can they not see that maddie and kate hudson are THE SAME SHADE????? they are TAN dumbasses

As you already said “idiots”. They are idiots, all of them. I don’t even get how people take this seriously and make long posts about how they are disappointed in Maddie or concerned for her and how she’s ruined now and so on. Where did you get your fucking proof?? Chandelierdancer says this is not the case and she’s the one who actually knows stuff! I want every single person who made a post about this to tell people where they got their info and why they think it’s true. There is no proof whatsoever, so they’re all making drama out of nothing. But yeah sure, it gives you more reason to hate on Maddie or to say she’s ruined, so who cares if we misuse actual important issues (like whitewashing in movies) and take them and use them for our own benefit just to hate on some 14-year old. Who cares that there’s no proof, let’s just all jump on it and write novels condemning her. Who cares about facts these days anyways? You can have people who actually know something tell you the opposite, they’ll still ignore it. I made a super long rant earlier under one of chandelierdancer’s posts when she said that what people are saying isn’t true, so just check that out if you want my complete rant haha. I’m done, I really am. This fandom (some maddie blogs included) have reached a new low, congrats to them. 

the princess stayed in the tower and read books about better girls, where their hands learned how to hold swords, where they rode in on horses. i gave her books as often as i could. she devoured them.

her princes saw her and pretended to be scared off by dragons. got too lost in the thicket. didn’t want to handle it.

“tell me what it’s like, out there,” she whispers to me for the millionth time. i take her from The Throne into her bed, tucking her in and making sure her feet are covered. 

“boring without you” i say as always, “but i did bring back a great story.”

i tell her about how the stars change beyond the equator. how there are places it looks like there are twin suns. how the desert crawls into you but so does snow. i talk about the taste of fruit and promise to bring her back some. she falls asleep while i murmur about rivers, and then in the morning i bring her from bed to Throne, even though she can do it on her own. sometimes she likes help, is all, and i’m happy to give it. 

she doesn’t want help getting dressed. the men come for me, blindfold masters i have almost befriended. the path we take away from her is always different, carefully manufactured so i don’t know exactly where she’s located. after all, a lady might get ideas about things.

they let me go in the queen’s room. i report findings, ask for fruit in the next week’s supplies, am told not to spoil the princess, that she must be kind and waifish and wanting when the prince comes. i spend an hour suggesting that fruit might turn the blood sweeter and am allowed six oranges.

in the next week, she marvels over them. turns them in her calloused hands. smells them. holds them until she can’t control her curiosity, devours them. i bring her books about rivers. i bring her books about deserts. 

“when is our birthday?” she asks me tonight. i’m knitting her a scarf for it.

“soon,” i tell her, “i’ll come by.”

she rolls onto one side, looks up at me in the dimming light. “I’m glad they chose you to be mine,” she says, and i drop a stitch. my heart sings against the inside of my wrists. i blow out a candle so she can’t see the blush and i can’t see her lips. i know what she means, i say. i know what she means.

it’s twenty-three for both of us. i bring her a cake we both eat, her on her throne and me on the floor. i am in the middle of laughing when she falls silent in the still night. “nobody else ever comes for me,” she whispers. i say nothing.

we have more cake, we go to sleep. i don’t know if she knows i’m awake, but i hear her crying.

the men come, the men take me. the one that smells like cedar always laughs at my jokes. the queen half-hates me because i remind her of “that nasty thing” they forced on their daughter. 

“the left wheel needs oil,” i mention, “she’s having trouble turning again.”

the queen’s nose goes up. she never reacts when i mention her daughter’s wheelchair by name - doesn’t find it funny we call it a throne, thinks it’s well enough to leave alone.

“well, she’ll have a prince in this next month coming for her,” says the queen, “i’ve arranged it all,” says the queen, “he’s … had the situation explained to him first this time. i thought it would be best,” says the queen. “we’re paying him…. quite a lot for his effort,” says the queen.

situation. she means that her daughter can’t walk very far. she means the situation of towers. i excuse myself. i find my girl books about turning down marriage. i’m not sure why. it’s all she’s ever wanted.

they blindfold me and take me. cedar laughs at my jokes. the sawdust one is here this time, even he chuckles at a few. we ride horses through places i’ll never see clearly. 

“so according to the queen this is the last time i’m needed, huh?” i ask them as they walk me blindly up too many stairs for my girl to make it down, “i’m sorry i never made your acquaintance.”

cedar laughs. he takes off my blindfold and for a second, lets me see his face. “it’s been an honor,” he says, shaking my hand, “you’ve been a perfect lady.”

i spend the day with my princess pretending i am not peeling apart from my bones. i just want her to be happy. to get to come home. 

it’s late. “do you think in a past life i was a mermaid?” she asks.

“almost definitely,” i tell her. 

it’s quiet for a while after. “what if,” she whispers, “i don’t want to leave?”

i sit up and look at her from across the room. 

“it’s just,” she says, “i have you here and all the books i need and nobody makes me walk too long and i don’t feel like… like i’m wrong here.”

i want to tell her she’s never been wrong. that she’s always fit into my heart like a puzzle piece. that, more importantly, the leadership i see in her glows like a fire - that, no matter her body, she’s always been kind and gentle and smart and sweet. a princess that could bring a nation to her feet and do so lovingly.

“it will be okay,” i say, “there’s more fruit to discover.”

she doesn’t say anything. i think i’ve ruined something by accident, but i don’t know what. i don’t really sleep. i don’t say anything when the men come take me.

the world outside without her is boring. no mermaids. i put my hand in a river once a day, just thinking about her. 

two weeks later i am awoken by my name, and a voice i recognize perfectly. cedar stands above me in the darkness. “i know two things in this world,” he says to me, “and one of them is about love.”

this time we make the trip without blindfolds. i see the squalor they keep her in. i see the waste surrounding her castle, the terrible place she’s in. rage fuels my footsteps even when they start flagging. 

the prince is already there. he has dropped her twice, cedar tells me. i am already running up the stairs even though i can barely breathe. i hear her crying through the door and i don’t need to get ready - the fire that starts in me burns so brightly.

i roar inside. turn dragon and beat back prince with girl made rage. the bruises on her body turn me into giant snake. i eat the man alive, or at least i chase him from the place, never to be seen again. later i will hear a rumor about a demon that stole the princess from him.

she cries into my arms. i take her down every single stair. i hear her murmur her thanks into my hair and then i kiss her, because i can’t handle it, because i have places to show her and she has my heart to lead.

my house isn’t much but it’s near a river. she likes putting her hands into it. i take her places when she is able, and otherwise i bring the places back. we read books together. cedar no longer works for the queen, but he’d rather live with the man of sawdust making tiny wooden figurines.

i lie in bed next to her, stroking her soft hair. “do you think i was a centaur in a past life?” she asks.

“definitely,” i tell her, and kiss her, gently. she holds my face and pulls herself closer to me.

“will i be a good queen? i mean, in this life?”

“i’m certain of it,” i reply. i can hear the truth ring in it. the bone-deep certainty.

she’s quiet for a moment. “you saved me,” she whispers, “and usually we’d end up married. but…”

i don’t know how to answer that. i feel ice down my spine suddenly.

“i’m not demanding, is all,” her voice shakes, “i’m asking this time. for you to choose me. for me to be yours, i mean. and for you to be mine. permanently.”

the next birthday we celebrate, we are both queens.

8

The crew explaining that  X-Men: First Class  is actually a romance between Charles and Erik.

Please Forgive Me, Lance

Blue hated this so much. She’d wanted to go back on it ever since the first second she stopped letting Lance in. He looked like he’d cry. That made her want to cry, too.

But that had nothing on right now. It was in the middle of the night, two or three am in Earth time- Lance’s time.

He walked up carefully to her, looking her in the eye for two seconds at most, “Hey, Blue…. Look, I know you don’t want me, but I need to know. Please tell me why you gave me up.”

She’d wanted to. She’d wanted to reach out to her boy, to say, But I do want you. And it’s killing me that I can’t let you come back to me right now. And it’s killing me that it’s hurting you. But she didn’t. She couldn’t.

He continues, “Please, Blue… I want to know why you gave me up. I need to know why I’m not worthy of you. Am I even worthy of Voltron anymore?” His voice cracked, forcing the lion’s heart to follow suit. You are more than worthy. If anything I am unworthy of you. I didn’t want to, Lance, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so, so sorry.

He’d whispered, “Why can’t I ever be good enough? Why am I always just a fill-in? Why can’t I ever be more than just an extra wheel?!” Blue hated this with every fiber of her being. She didn’t want to push him out. But she had to, for Voltron. Fight now, all she wanted to do was tell the world Fuck Voltron.

He’d dropped to his knees now, shoulders shaking. Little splash noises hit the ground. Blue felt her hypothetical stomach drop the second she’d realized what they were. Tears.

But God, how it hurt her when he sobbed, “Why did you even bring me here?! If you were just going to… to ditch me like that, why did you bring me here at all?!”

I’m sorry, Lance, I’m so sorry. I want you to pilot me, but you can’t. Not right now. I love you so much, but I can’t.

He’d sobbed, “I’m not even meant to be on this team! I want to go home, where I’m wanted!”My baby, you are wanted, I’m so, so sorry I can’t tell you and none of us want you to leave. You’re meant to be here, Lance. Please know that.

A whispered voice of, “Lance?” The former Red Paladin had walked over, Lance frantically wiping his eyes. He’d realized it was too late, just letting tears fall.

Lance whispered, “Keith. I just… why doesn’t Blue love me anymore?!” He latched onto the other’s neck, sobbing. I love so so much Lance, my baby, my raindrop. She felt bad using that nickname. She felt she didn’t deserve it with how she was forced to treat Lance.

Keith had whispered back, “I don’t know, Lance… I’m sorry. I’m sure she has a reason.” Keith had glared up at her. He loved Lance a great deal, she could tell that by his normally fiery and passionate gaze becoming a cold and unforgiving glare.

After Keith had gotten Lance back to his room, probably to sleep, he’d returned. He had the same stony and cold look in his eyes. He was angry that she’d hurt him. Angry at her. She was angry at herself, too.

He told her, “You hurt him. A lot. I don’t understand why you aren’t fixing it. He’s doubting his place on the team because of you.” I know, and I hate it. I can do nothing.

Keith continued, “I don’t know what came over you, but freezing him out like that has made him so insecure. He doesn’t even think he deserves to be called a Paladin. All because you couldn’t spare two fucking sentences to tell him otherwise.” I wanted to. Go, how I wanted to.

She wasn’t angry at him. In all honesty, under all the sadness and guilt plaguing her, she was glad Lance had him.

“I just don’t get it. He was so devoted to you. I mentioned you once outside his door, and he made sure to tell me that you two were very happy together and that you were his lion only. He loved you-still does-and you don’t even care enough to tell him he’s important?!”

“Why don’t you get it, Blue?! I know how it feels to be abandoned like that. It kills you. It makes you feel like you don’t deserve the ground you walk on, the air you breath. It makes you feel so alone, even if you’re in a room packed with people. You’re hurting him so much, Blue. Do you even care enough to fix it?”

She did care. So, so much. She’d be killed for her Paladin without thinking twice. He was her baby. She loved him with everything.

“He thinks you hate him. I know that isn’t totally true. Because if it were, you wouldn’t deserve to be a lion. I try to tell him he’s important and wanted and loved, but he doesn’t listen. He thinks that just cause we’re dating I’m lying to make him feel better. He talks so highly of you.”

I don’t deserve it. I don’t deserve him. I’m horrible and awful and I shouldn’t have ever agreed to Black’s plan. I’m going to strangle her. He doesn’t deserve something like me.

He’d finished off with, “You’d think that after all that’s happened, you’d know that mistakes of this scale last a lifetime, and do irreversible damage.” After, he stormed out, leaving her to her thoughts. She was pushing the other lions out at all costs right now.

I hate this so much, and I’ll make it up to you as soon as I can. As soon as Shiro comes back, you’ll come back to me, and I’ll tell you everything.

She felt awful. She hurt her baby. Made him feel like he doesn’t belong. Made him think she hated him.

I’m so incredibly sorry, Lance. I can’t… I can’t let our connections come back, or I won’t be able to take it away again. I just hope Red will comfort you. Please don’t hate me, Lance. Please remember all the times I’ve told you how great you are.

I hate this so much, and I’ll make it up to you as soon as I can. As soon as Shiro comes back, you'lll come back to me, and I’ll tell you everything. Every single word about how great you are. Maybe then you’ll know why I did this. Please don’t hate me.

Please forgive me, Lance.

I think privilege of all types is best described as assuming that everyone has the ability to make the same choices that you made, and ignoring the fact that for some people those options don’t even exist.

“Why didn’t she just tell him no and push him away? As a man, I have the physical strength and inherent social respect from other men to expect to be safe at all times, I’m sure she would have gotten the exact same response as I would have if she had done what I would have done.”

“Why didn’t he just go to college? As a student in an affluent neighborhood, I had access to AP classes, extra-curriculars, and guidance counselors who helped me apply to schools, I’m sure he did, too.”

“Why didn’t he just comply with the police? He wouldn’t have been shot if he did everything right. As a white person, I’m given the benefit of the doubt by authority figures and not immediately pre-judged as a violent criminal because of my appearance, I’m sure those cops were afraid of him because he chose to be scary, not because of racism.”

“Why does she always take the elevator? It’s only one flight of stairs! As an able-bodied person, I’m capable of doing physical activities without fear of hurting myself or exacerbating health problems, and anyone who doesn’t have an immediately visible reason for doing less than I do must be lazy.”

Ok so my headcanon for why Mary and Damien are so close (i.e. my special boy) is that they’ve known eachother forever - I’m talking since school/university, and they’ve always been best friends. Even when they both got married they made sure to call eachother almost every day and find time for “girls’ nights out.” But then a little while after Lucien was born Damien came to the full realisation that he was trans, and that he couldn’t live any longer without being his true self.
Somehow, while he was terrified to tell anyone, the idea of telling Mary made him the most anxious - even though she already accepted his growing gothic wardrobe, and his overwhelming love of dogs and graveyards. But he was scared that once he told her they would never be the same again, since he wouldn’t be her ‘best girlfriend’ anymore.
He waited, and waited, trying to find the right moment, to pluck up the courage. But if he couldn’t steel himself enough to watch Nightmare Before Christmas, then how the hell was he supposed to do this. Nevertheless, one day - when he’d lost count of how many times he’d gone into the basement to cry after hearing Lucien call him Mom, and he’d received yet another text from his best friend saying 'heeyyy *deadname* how are ya?’ - he went to her house to tell her.
She was quiet while he revealed everything, anxiously mentioning anything that seemed relevant to lessen the weight of the silence between them. He talked about how he felt as a child, and when Lucien was born; his nausea when wearing dresses and how much he’d cried recently; his ideas for a new name. And then, because of course they had to surface right now, his anxieties about what it would mean - how much he loved her, but how scared he was that he couldn’t be her best friend anymore.
When he’d finally stumbled to a halt - and she had that look on her face that meant she’d just been waiting for him to shut up - she said: 'No, you’re not my best girlfriend anymore. You’re my special boy.’ And she hugged him, so he burst into tears on her shoulder. From that moment on, she’d used that nickname to signify that she wasn’t fucking around when it came to their friendship (usually when Joseph got frustrated about how much time she spent with another man.)
She then helped him to come out to his husband, and to Lucien - and she sounded like she’d read fifty guides on how to come out to children, even though Damien thought she never read anything without romance or spies somewhere along the way. And a few days later, a package arrived at his door which turned out to be a Victorian-era appropriate binder - which he had no idea could exist. The invoice inside read Joseph Christiansen, but there was a note from Mary:
'Apparently these things are a bitch to get on and off. Let me know if ya get stuck and need rescuing, special boy. M xx’
And he knew things with Mary could never change.

My dear lgbt+ kids, 

I want to share some summer tips with those of you who bind! 

Most binders are made from material that’ll trap in heat against your body. That’s why it’s very important to make sure you do not overheat! 

- Choose cotton or linen shirts, if possible. Natural fabrics allow your skin to breathe and keep you cool. 

- Avoid polyester shirts, they’ll cause you to sweat more and make you overheat even faster. 

- If possible, switch to a mid-length or sport-style binder during summer (instead of a full-length binder) 

- Try applying baby powder on your body before you put on your binder. It will absorb sweat. 

- Skip binding on some days. Especially on very hot days, try to give your body a break from binding to breathe and relax.(This is easiest to do on the days where you stay home anyway.) If it’s absolutely impossible to go without a binder for a whole day, try to take it off during the hottest hours of the day at least. 

- This doesn’t apply only in the summer but year-round: Do not bind with duct tape or ace bandages. They restrict your breathing and can cause serious injuries such as broken ribs. 

With all my love, 

Your Tumblr Mom 

Angel in the Darkness pt.5

Originally posted by aestheticvbts

Summary: After a patient urgently pleads you to go and help a friend of his, you naively agree to it. Little did you know, that you would get more than what you agreed to, when he leads you to a brothel, to help a dangerous prostitute named Jeon Jungkook.

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader (ft. Jin, but not romantically)

Genre: Smut (M), angst, mafia!au, prostitution!au

A/N:This is a dark and filthy story! Graphic descriptions of sex (masturbating, etc), heavy dom/sub undertones, drug use, vulgar language use……(alot of smut comes in later) This is a mature read! You have been warned!

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 | part 6 



The bright sunlight behind the curtains, stirs you awake from your deep sleep. There’s a faint smile stretched upon your lips, as you feel as if you’ve had one of the best naps in the longest of times. Your eyes are still closed shut as you try to flex your stiff muscles; only you can’t.

As soon as you tried to lift your arms, you hit something very hard and muscular. Huh? That’s weird. You can also feel that your legs are entangled, and something wrapped around your waist.

You didn’t mind the feeling, as you were still too tired to process things, and because it brought great warmth, but then you heard it; a faint grunt. Your eyes instantly shoot open, and you blush hard when you realize you’re wrapped up into Jungkook.

His face is mere centimeters away from yours, and his eyes are still closed shut, indicating he’s still asleep. You can feel his hot breath, gently tickling your red face, as his hair is all over. You peer downwards and see that his left arm is securely wrapped around your waist, as both of you were laying down on your sides. His long, thick legs were clumsily tangled with yours, and you were finding it hard to breathe since you were so close to him.

OH MY GOD! WHAT HAPPENED LAST NIGHT?!?!

Keep reading

proof

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Prompt: Reader is the child of Tony Stark. While talking to Peter one day you discover that Flash is bullying him, and decide to take matters into your own hands by showing up to Liz Allen’s party to put an end to it. 

Requested by: n/a

Warnings: slight spoilers for Homecoming, mild swearing, bullying

Word count: 2,805

Notes: I know this isn’t the exact dialogue as in the movie but I’m just working off my memory so bare with me folks. Also this took me several day to write but I love it, even though the ending is kinda shaky but this is very long and I would enjoy you guys sent in requests! My masterlist is in my bio (it’s almost empty but that’ll change) along with a prompt list you can request off of if you want!

Originally posted by zgallagher

Keep reading

Tantalizing: 07

Originally posted by jikookfantasy

Tantalizing: 01 02 03 04 05 06 07 08
Ship: Jungkook | Reader
Description: Back in high school, you were nothing more than a nerd Jungkook wanted to deflower, to get a good fuck from. When he sees you at the club, though, things have changed drastically, and his dominance starts to teeter on the edge.
Warning: Dom!Jungkook, Intercourse, Oral, Blowjob, Hair Pulling, Tons of Fucking Angst, Masturbating, Exhibitionism, Overstimulation, Slight Degrading Names?
Word Count: 6,631

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Older brother Namjoon+ rest of BTS scolds you PT.10

BTS x Reader

Genre: Angst

Namjoon’s Sister AU

[PT.1] [PT.2] [PT.3][PT.4] [PT.5] [PT.6] [PT.7] [PT.8] [PT.9] [PT.10] [PT.11] [PT.12] [PT.13] [PT.14:END] [PT.14 Alternative]


Originally posted by pjkook


Y/N’s p.o.v

“Joonie?” I say completely confused, what was he even doing here?

“Oh uh hi baby sis, you’re up?” 

“Well yeah you were crashing and banging, I’m pretty sure it could have woken up the entire building.” I say quite frankly. “What are you doing here?” I wasn’t completely mad that he was standing in my kitchen, hammering at my counter top. But at the same time I feel sort of resentful. 

“I was waiting for you outside of your door -”

“Yeah I saw you, but what are you doing in here?” 

“You fainted, I had to bring you inside.” He explained. 

“But why do you care?” I was bitter and I knew that but I couldn’t help myself, because what they said, tore me up inside. 

“Come on small, don’t be like that.” Small, he used to call me that all the time. 

“Don’t be like what? How else do you want me to act? What more do you want to control?” I started to raise my voice. It was always ‘don’t do this’ ‘don’t do that’. 

“I know it was wrong of me and I’m sorry, can’t you just accept my apology and move on?” He was raising his voice at me now too. A few years ago, he would cherish me, made sure nobody hurt me and would never raise his voice at me. But now all he has done is hurt me. 

“How am I supposed to just accept your apology and move on oppa? When you’ve always been someone that I looked up to, you were always the one who taught me well, but you neglected me. You used to protect me, but now? You’re the one who hurt me the most.” I was on the verge of tears, it’s been so long that it’s just the two of us talking, just brother and sister time. When I used to have nightmares as a kid, Namjoon would be the one to read me a story whilst crouching by the side of my bed and made sure I fell asleep okay. But right now, he was my biggest nightmare. “You used to care about me so much, what happened?” My voice lowered and tears fell, quickly wiping them away I looked up at him.”You used to be my saviour oppa, but now it’s like I don’t even know who you are anymore.”

“I still love and care about you Y/N, why are you being so difficult? I’m trying to make amends but you’re acting so childish!” He raised his voice and I couldn’t help but flinch. I can’t lie and say that it didn’t scare me when he was like this, because he was rarely ever like this. My head was spinning and I felt like complete shit, but what does that matter right?

“I’m being childish? My older brother and his best friends, including my very own best friend, spoke badly of me behind my back. The same older brother who just 4 years ago would not let anyone say a single bad thing about me, not even mum and dad. You’d always hide me behind your back when I was in trouble. You’d tell the kids who were mean to me off. You did so much for me back then. Maybe I’m just expecting too much, maybe I grew up relying on you too much. Or maybe you just don’t love your lil small anymore, because I’m useless and only ever cause you trouble.” I was trying so hard to remain calm, so hard to not allow my tears to fall but it was working. They just kept falling. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry I’m a pain in the ass to you. I’m sorry I’m not good enough. I’m sorry I’m not the same small you used to love and care about.” I swallowed back my flowing tears and smiled slightly up towards him. “I won’t cause you anymore trouble, you don’t have to worry about me. I’ll stay away so you don’t have to see me anymore. I’m sorry for being dramatic. I really am. So, oppa. Could you please leave?” 

“This is a little too much don’t you think? Over something so little?” I chuckled, is that really what he thought?

“It may have been little to you because you don’t look up and respect me like I do, you. Ever since I could walk and talk, I’ve learned so much from you, you were that older brother to me that became my shield. The older brother that I had endless respect for. So to me it’s like my whole world was crashing down on me. You had know idea that the last four years have been hell, you wouldn’t know because you never really asked how I was. But I get that, you’re busy. I understood. But when I needed you the most and told you some things, you don’t even remember and you always pushed me aside telling me that you’d ‘message me later’ because you’re occupied doing something. But no matter how long I waited for my older brother to get back to me, he never did. I was always the one starting up a conversation. Because I missed my big bro, but he didn’t miss me. I felt as though I was just a complete burden so I stopped. Life got harder, but it’s okay now. I’m a big girl and I can handle it.” I smiled one last time at him. “Because I don’t need you anymore.” 


PT.11?

Some Things CAN Be Replaced.

Prompt by: @love-life-death-dd

When they got Matt back, everyone was joyous. Especially Pidge and Shiro.

A brother was returned to a smaller version of a family and everyone was happy as could be.

Pidge wasn’t as snappy, she got along better with everyone as she no longer had the burden of a missing brother.

Shiro wasn’t as stoic, and you heard his laugh more often. He’d even crack a joke or two, he was able to lighten up.

Keith of course was glad to have Shiro back, and even happier that Shiro returned in better shape than expected, all thanks to Matt.

Matt was a fantastic contributor to the team, and was a friend to all.

He tasted Hunks cooking, and loved to give him ideas on what the yellow paladin could whip up next.

Matt was always happy to listen to his little sister go on about her projects and modifications. He was proud of her intelligence.

He even became close with Coran and Allura, fascinated by their tech and stories of Altea and its past.

Shiro and the man were inseparable.

Then Matt was introduced to the Lions.

Lance hadn’t had a problem with Matt before, not a significant one at least. The guy was hilarious, and knew some of the best pick up lines.

But there were insignificant problems that the blue paladin had with the older Holt.

He was becoming Lances replacement.

In the past, Lance acted the way Matt did and was always brushed off, or received not as positive feedback.

Pidge was never interested in explaining her projects to Lance.

Keith and Shiro wouldn’t offer to train with him just for fun.

Hunk might ask for a taste tester here and there, but the Mice were requested more than he was.

Lance was fine.
It’s be fine.

It has only been a week and soon everything would be back to normal and Matt would just be another body in the castle.

Another person, just like everyone else.
But he only became more of a God as time went on.

When Matt met the lions, he had immediately been drawn to Blue.

Lance wasn’t sure why, the guy just was.
That made an uneasy feeling rise in his gut, and his blood slow in his veins.

“Yeah, this is my girl, Blue. Isn’t she a beauty?” Lance said proudly, putting a hand in the cool metal of her structure.

Matt adjusted his glasses with a sideways smile, “She sure is! Mind if I take a peek inside?”

Why couldn’t Matt have been interested in the Black lion? Or maybe even the Green lion?

Why did it have to be Blue?
LANCE’S lion?

“Uh, yeah sure, she might be a little protective though, ha ha.” Lance scratched the back of his neck and led Matt inside.

Why did Lance tell him yes?

After this entire week Lances dislike for Matt had only grown, and his dislike for himself only stronger.

Sure, Matt was better with his friends.
Sure, Matt trained better.

But Lance was one thing that Matt wasn’t, and that was the Blue Paladin of Voltron.

“Wow, the Blue lion looks different than the other lions.” Matt observed, making it to the cockpit and admiring her hardware.

Lance smiled a little, cautiously watching him. “Yeah, she’s meant for the water so I guess she does have a few quirks.”

Suddenly Matt sat down in the pilots seat, and Lance stiffened.

It was fine. It was fine.
Not like Matt could power her up anyway. Only the lions paladin could form that bond and—

“Woah!” Matt gasped.

Suddenly all of the lions screens turned on and lit up, the boys hands hovering over them.

Lances heart dropped.

“I think she likes me! Can you hear that Lance? It’s like it’s alive and purring, so weird!” Matt chuckled, and started testing buttons.

Lance didn’t like that.

Matt could take his friends.
Matt could take his friendships.

He could take his jokes and his lines and his personality and all of it.

But he wasn’t going to take his lion.
Lance couldn’t stand here and watch the boy iterate and touch his lions buttons and sit in that seat and—

“Woah, Lance, are you alright?”


The blue paladin shook his head, coming back to the present and looked down at Matt. He looked worried.

That disgusted the blue eyed boy.

“Wait, are you…crying?” Matt asked, face scrunching and he looked uncomfortable now.

Lance wiped his eyes, “Get out.”

Matt blinked, “What?”

“I said get out of my lion!!” He shouted, shoving Pidges brother. “Go train with Shiro! Cook with Hunk!”

Lance was suddenly crying harder and he just wanted Matt to go away. He was being rude and irrational and he’d be chewed out for it later but he didn’t care right now.

“I wish you were still stuck on that damned Galra ship!” The blue eyed boy shouted.

The cockpit fell silent.

Matt stood, bewildered for a moment, before his features softened. “Lance, I understand you’re upset. I’ll go, but I’m here for you if you need me.”

Lance remained stiff and quiet, minus sniffling, as Matt left the Blue lion.

The blue paladin gave it a few minutes, before shakily wiping his eyes and plopping down into Blues seat.

“God…”

Matt was even calm in situations where Lance just flipped out and made a fool of himself.

He could t think about it any longer.
There would be a lecture later and Lance could wait until then to get these feelings out again.

For now, he slept.

No decency II Pt.1

There were two things you despised in your current situation. The first thing accrued to be that your mom decided to move in with her new husband. The second one was that playboy number one Jeon Jungkook turns out to be your new stepbrother. As your parents spontaneously go on vacation you and Jungkook have to deal with the building tension between the two of you until an upcoming house party leaves you panting underneath him.


genre: stepbrother!jungkook, dom!jungkook, smut

word count: 9.8k

Originally posted by eatupbangtan

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I Got You On My Mind (Part 7)

Jungkook Soulmate AU (Angst)

[Part One] Previous Part | Part Seven | Epilogue

Summary: Jungkook reveals why he rejected you. But is it enough for you to forgive him?

Word count: 1.7k words

Originally posted by jungxook

You watched, mesmerized, as Jungkook fidgeted with his hands, the chords of muscles in his forearms flexing. His gaze was downcast, his plump lower lip caught between his teeth, as he struggled to find the words to stay. You found that this uncharacteristic nervousness made him seem more genuine, but still, it was difficult for you to trust Jungkook after everything that had transpired.

After recently regaining some of your memories, the wounds Jungkook had inflicted still felt fresh. Your heart ached as if it were only moments ago that Jungkook had tossed you aside.

The conflicting memories of Jungkook warred in your mind. On one hand, Jungkook had rejected you with cutting words and a cold heart. But on the other, he had helped nurse you back to health and remained resolutely by your side. Which one was the real Jungkook? 

You wanted desperately to hold onto the version of Jungkook you had imagined as a young girl, not the one who had been sleeping with your best friend.

“She won’t believe me,” Jungkook thoughts interrupted. Your gaze flickered to his, but he was still staring at the ground, unaware that he was projecting his thoughts. You could feel his uncertainty and fear through your soulmate bond. The sudden urge to comfort him arose, but you pushed it down.

“Jungkook, I promise I’ll listen,” you said quietly. His head shot up, Jungkook’s wide eyes peering into yours. He opened his mouth, but no words came out. “I can’t promise that I’ll believe you, or that everything will be fixed, but I’ll give you this chance to explain everything.”

Jungkook sighed and looked away, his jaw clenching.

“I know I need to explain this to you,” Jungkook began slowly. “But this is really hard for me. I don’t want to show this side of myself to you.”

“Believe it or not, I don’t hate you now and I probably never will,” you said with a small laugh. “We’re soulmates for a reason, you know.”

Jungkook gave you a small smile, his gaze flickering down. “I guess I’ll start from the beginning then.”

You nodded, waiting patiently as Jungkook took an unsteady breath. He closed his eyes for a moment, before exhaling slowly and looking back at you. His eyes were raw and honest.

“The first time I heard your thoughts, I was six,” Jungkook recalled with a fond smile. “You didn’t hear me for awhile later. I still remember what you thought. ‘That looks like a fun tree to climb.’”

“That was the first thing you heard?” you asked incredulously. “I remember that! I climbed a tall-ass tree in the park, and I fell and broke my arm.”

“I know,” Jungkook replied grimly. “I felt it, too. For such an underdeveloped bond, it didn’t make sense for me to be able to feel your emotions. But I could. All I could feel was your panic and pain.”

You winced, recalling the memory from all those years ago. For a six-year-old, it was a terrifying experience.

“I was so young at the time,” Jungkook continued. “I didn’t understand why I could feel emotions that weren’t mine. I didn’t know why I could hear someone else’s thoughts. And I couldn’t understand why I cared so much about a person I’d never met.”

You opened your mouth, but Jungkook cut you off immediately. “Don’t apologize,” Jungkook said, smiling slightly. “I got over it, eventually. It got easier when you started to hear me.”

“That wasn’t until, like, a year later,” you frowned. “That must’ve been so strange.”

“It felt a little intrusive,” Jungkook shrugged. “But your thoughts were pretty entertaining. Plus, I was a really shy kid, so you were my only friend for a little while.”

“That’s really sad,” you said quietly, your voice lilting. “We didn’t have an actual conversation until we were nine.”

“We could have had spoken sooner, but I didn’t want to,” Jungkook confessed, looking away. “I learned how to block my thoughts, mostly. Sometimes I can’t, if I get too emotional.”

“Why didn’t you want to talk to me?” you questioned, a little hurt.

“It wasn’t you,” Jungkook replied immediately. Then, he frowned and clenched his fists. He didn’t speak for several moments, but when he did, his voice was quiet. “It was because of my parents. They were soulmates, but for some reason, they didn’t get along.

“My mom found out that my dad was cheating on her, and it was a mess. They divorced a few months later. My mom got custody, and my dad sort of spiralled,” Jungkook explained, his voice coloured with shame. “I didn’t know how to face my own soulmate after that. I didn’t even know if I could believe in soulmates anymore.”

“Jungkook, I’m so sorry,” you whispered. “If I had known, I would’ve–”

“No, I didn’t want you to know,” Jungkook interrupted. “You were the only person I could pretend to be fine with. You were the only person who didn’t know how fucked up my family–how fucked up I was.”

“You were just a child,” you argued. “How could I think badly of you?”

Jungkook just shook his head. “I wanted to seem like a good person in front of you,” he said. “Even after my parents, I still wanted to believe in soulmates. I wanted to have something to look forward to. You were always so happy, it was easy to pretend with you.”

A few moments of silence passed as Jungkook tried to collect his thoughts. You wanted to reach out, to hold him, but you didn’t know if he would appreciate that.

“My mom had to work a lot to support me and my brother, so she wasn’t home often,” Jungkook continued, his voice low. “My dad picked up drinking. He tried to take us home with him, once. The police had to come.

“My brother was hit pretty hard, since he was older when it happened. I was in middle school when he started high school. He joined a gang, started getting into fights and dealing.

“I didn’t follow him, but I got involved with some pretty bad people. You know what my reputation’s like–it’s because that’s who I am. From high school till now, all I did was party. I drank, I did drugs, I slept around.”

“Why didn’t I know any of this?” you asked, confused. “In all the years we’ve been talking, I couldn’t tell that a single thing was off.”

“I showed you what I wanted you to see,” Jungkook replied with a cold laugh. “I was hoping by the time I met you, I would’ve already cleaned up my act. I didn’t expect to see you that night, and I was so ashamed of myself. And I ended up pushing you away, because I wasn’t ready for you to see me like that.

“You were the last person I wanted to hurt, but I fucked it up anyway,” Jungkook said, his words venomous. “I ruined everything before it even began. It’s fucked up, but after you lost you’re memories, I thought it was like a second chance. I know, it’s fucking disgusting, but I wanted you to see the person I could become.”

“Jungkook…”

“Look, I know everything about me is fucked up, okay?” Jungkook spat. “I don’t want to hear apologies, I don’t need pity. I don’t need forgiveness, either. This is the truth. This is everything I never wanted you to know.”

“Jungkook!” you repeated, more firmly this time. You reached out and grabbed his hand, which was clammy, and gave it a gentle squeeze. “Listen to me. All I wanted was for you to be honest with me. It doesn’t matter if you’re embarrassed or ashamed of your past, of yourself. If I’m your soulmate, I want to love all of you.”

Jungkook stared at you, his mouth hanging open slightly.

“If anything, I wish I could have been there for you,” you continued sadly. You played with his large hand, weaving your own fingers in between his. “We’re soulmates, you know? We’re supposed to support each other. There’s a reason why we’re connected, even if we don’t understand.”

“I just hate disappointing you,” Jungkook sighed, squeezing your hand back. “I was afraid to see our relationship crumble. Just being soulmates–I don’t know if that’s enough. If I’m anything like my father–which I am–then we’re doomed.”

“Don’t say that,” you scolded him gently. “I’ll admit, there are some things about you that aren’t great. But you’re more than your mistakes. You’re passionate and kind, and you’ve shown me the best sides of you, too.

“We aren’t so two-dimensional, Jungkook. I’m sure I’m not the perfect person you made me out to be when we were younger,” you laughed.

“But you’re perfect for me,” Jungkook insisted, then blushed deeply. He gulped visibly and looked away.

“Look, I don’t know if I forgive you yet,” you said, and you saw Jungkook deflate. “But I will eventually. I want us to move past this together.”

“Thank you,” Jungkook whispered, his voice cracking. He looked up at you. “I know I don’t deserve that, or you. But you’re the reason why I even try. If it wasn’t for you, I’d have probably given up already.”

“You should want to live for yourself, Jungkook,” you smiled sadly. “I am your soulmate, but I’m not your entire world.”

You pulled Jungkook into your arms, and he immediately buried his nose in the crook of your neck. You weren’t sure, but you thought you could feel wetness against your skin. Was he crying?

“You helped me a lot these past few weeks,” you continued, holding Jungkook tightly in your arms. “Let me help you now. We’ll make it through this, together. Okay?”

Jungkook nodded against your neck. And despite how terribly everything began, you were almost certain that everything would turn out just fine. With Jungkook truly by your side now, you felt strong. You were determined to unravel the mystery of the boy in your arms, who felt as far away as he was close.

- Girl in Luv

One more part to go, then it’s finished! How did you guys feel about this chapter? Are you still mad at Jungkook? His behaviour sort of makes sense now…I hope. Anyway, I hope you guys enjoyed this series, and thanks to everyone who stuck with it! Look forward to the last instalment of I Got You On My Mind. I’m always so thankful for the support we receive, from the replies to the fanmail. You guys are the best! Happy reading 💛

off limits | 04 (m)

pairing: kim seokjin x reader
genre/warnings: smut, dom! Jin, dare I say fluff…? followed by an ‘oh shit’ moment
words: 12,051
summary: you’ve been lusting after your brother’s best friend for a while now, ever since you met him at a house party, flirting it up a storm as you failed to realise who the other was. That was months ago now and things are still awkward, but you can’t ignore the sexual tension that’s simmers between the two of you…and it keeps getting worse…

  » 01 :: 02 :: 03 :: 04 ::

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