offering joke

akaashi’s guide to upset boyfriends:

code green: everything is okay, no one is crying
code yellow: bokuto is crying. while this is a semi-occasional occurrence, try to either distract him or calm him down asap with compliments, jokes, affection, offering to play volleyball with him, etc, etc
code orange: kuroo is crying. this is unusual, but not unheard of. figure out what is wrong and help fix it, if possible. offer physical affection and (if available) twizzlers
code red: tsukishima is crying. (how did you even make tsukishima cry, you monster?) don’t try to placate him; either solve the issue yourself or help him do so. his tears can turn into fury very fast

((code black: AKAASHI IS CRYING WHAT DO WE DO HE DIDN’T MAKE NOTES FOR IF HE’S THE ONE CRYING OH GOD WHO EVEN MADE AKAASHI CRY– TSUKISHIMA NO WE CAN’T JUST HIRE A DEEP WEB HITMAN TO– BOKUTO GET BACK HERE YOU CAN’T JUST FIND THE GUY AND PUNCH HIM– okay wait nvm akaashi just told us to stop fooling around and watch a movie on the couch with him. okay. okay. we’re good. it’s all good. okay. kuroo out))

CLOSE CALL

“Taehyung x reader, the reader and tae are bestfriends but one day they’re with the members and there’s nowhere to sit, so joking Tae offers for her to sit on his lap, but she does…ending with him getting turned on? Leading to smut If you do that?” <- SUGGESTED! TO THE ANON WHO SENT ME THIS REQUEST, THANKS AND I HOPE YOU LIKE IT.

P.S. This isn’t a full on smut because I don’t really like writing them.

The holidays were fast approaching and BTS were on their way to a pumpkin patch to film a short seasons greetings for the fans. It wasn’t pure business, as the members were allowed to bring a plus one if they wanted although almost all opted not to, to have a last hurrah with the rest of the boys before they go home to spend the holidays with their families. All except Taehyung, he had dragged along his bestfriend, who was only back in the country for a few days.

With all seven members, their manager, a make up artist, plus all of their personal bags and bags filled with thins needed for filming, the van was more or less full. 

Keep reading

3

Imagine:

Protecting Bucky from T'Challa.
••• Requested by @sybil-howlett •••

“I didn’t need your protection, (Y/N).” Bucky said, pushing your hair away from your wound carefully as not to hurt you. “I had him on the ropes.”

“Sure you did,” you laugh, “T'Challa would’ve totally killed you had I not gotten in his way. Though, I kinda feel bad for him, y'know? You were his target, not me.”

Bucky shook his head in amusement. “At some point you’re going to get yourself killed.”

“Nah, I’m gonna live forever.” You joke, offering him a smile.

“Not without me, you aren’t.”

The Unwilling Prophet & the Lonely God

Sometimes (a lot of times), I think about Will Graham as an unwilling Prophet, and Hannibal Lecter as the lonely God who has finally found someone who can hear him. It’s just a metaphor, but, as is the way of old allegories, there’s something about this frame that can lend a certain heartache clarity to the events of Hannibal, and I’ve been promising that I would write it down.

At first I didn’t know what form this post was going to take, but then I realized that this was already decided for me millennia ago –

Let me tell you a story, about the Gods.


Will Graham is a Prophet, and he did not ask for this. He did not ask to see them, to know their awful designs. He did not ask to hear them all, the whole black broken pantheon that slipped away from the mountain to make their own heaven on earth. And he does not want it, he does not.

The unwilling Prophet screws up his eyes against the forms crowding him, tries to shut his ears, but how do you lock out the Gods?

Hannibal Lecter is a God, and he is alone. He crafts humanity into beautiful forms with cruelty & care, elevates them, and, at his long table, he dines upon what he has transformed. And no one knows. No one knows how the God is sustained.

And no one knows how he is alone.

But he is content, mostly, safe in his temple of marble and horn. So many lambs for the slaughter — his slaughter. He sings over them, and he didn’t know how mournful his song was, perhaps, until one day, someone hears him. Someone as alone as he is.

Keep reading

cartoon-caity

replied to your

post

:

i just want someone who’s a better artist than me…

I got the time, may I ask why you want this?

*shrug* I mean it’s Endeavor getting beat up by Wonder Woman, I think its existence kind of justifies itself.

“Ready, Mrs. Barnes?” Bucky joked, offering his arm as you were entering the hotel you two were supposed to infiltrate.

“You know we can’t actually use ‘Barnes’ as our last name, right? It’ll blow our cover.You said, accepting his offer and intertwining your arms.

“Well, I think that wedding ring says otherwise.” He smirked at you.

You shook your head, trying not to smile, “Come on, Mr. Smith.”

Tracy Mcconnell

This is supposed to be some appreciation post for the most underappreciated character in the show:

1. The way she convinces Barney to stop ‘playing’ and to finally go get Robin.

2. The moment she offers Lily sumbitches and jokes about finding them on the train.

3. How she calms Robin down when she is freaking out about the wedding, and is telling her to take three deep breaths.

4. The first time she is singing ‘La vie en rose’

5. When Tracy sings the English Muffin song during breakfast.

6. The scene at university when she laughs about the “shellfish” joke.

7. In the moment when she lets Max go after all the years.

8. When she finally meets Ted, and we find out what was meant with the yellow umbrella.

9. How she makes it to become part of the gang, and Ted’s friends liking her.

Originally posted by yoel12canseco

Sure, Mrs. Sullivan. I’ll be back next month!”, the fake smile the young woman had now was different from the others anyone had seen so far. She was not faking for anyone, she was doing it for herself. Standing outside the doctor office, facing now a closed door, Georgia looked down to the pappers in her hands. Great, more pills. Stronger ones. This would never end. Taking a deep breath, she shoved it all carelessly in her purse and then noticed someone she had seen before spotted her. “I won’t tell anyone that I saw you in the crazy part of medicine if you don’t tell about me”, she offered the joke, deeply wishing they would take it.

Love Bites

Originally posted by samwinchesterblog

Pairing: SamxReader
Word count: 1,688
Warnings: smut, drinking
Song: Love Bites - Halestorm

Sam came storming in the bunker, making you look up from the magazine you were looking at. “Problem there, Sammy?” You asked, setting the magazine on your chest. You watched him drop into one of the near by chairs. Judging by the look on his face, he just wanted the day to be over.

“It’s Corrine.” He groaned. You rolled your eyes, not really caring for her. “She had all these damn articles about couples and relationships. How many different articles can you read about the same damn thing?” He threw his hands up in the air. “We need to more of this, we need to do less of that, this shows I don’t care. I’m confused.”

Keep reading

Why do they
So many times
Throughout the day
Sit across from me
Hollow eyed and say
“Are you okay?”

They do not care
For an answer
Never desired one
To begin with
But the social obligation
Of my mental health
Falls to them.

Shoulders burdened with
A frail frame of a girl
Who never grew past 10  
Paired with the maturity
Of a woman who has lived
Thrice over they cannot
Convince me- the woman-child
To care for herself.

The responsibility of my
Mental health falls to
Parents who never spoke
A gentle word in their
Lives- never
Offered a joke in place of
An insult
Never took care
Of their daughter-

A girl-turned-woman- thing
By men who’s groping gripping
Hands found a body all too
Soon and shaped a girl into  
Monster, into woman.

Secrets Buried Deep.

1.

He didn’t do much of his dirty work these days. With Aurélie and Oliver moving to Porto Velho, Fran was left in charge of St. Clair empire’s Launceston branch. If being commandant was time-consuming, it was a Disney tour compared to this. Not only he had to keep his loyalists in check and enemies at bay, but he also had to keep up appearances as an upstanding citizen. Yeah, right.

There was no private life for him. In fact, there was no life at all, except a life of a mob boss. The youthful, playful twinkle in his eyes was long gone. Hues of darkness had replaced it. Sure, he still offered jokes and flirted with girls, but Fran St. Clair they knew all those years ago when the family was whole, didn’t exist anymore.

He had been busy interrogating a Russian loyalist when the news reached him.

They took away her kid. No, not Fran’s kid. He hadn’t ever uttered those words. Hell, he never even said her name out loud, kept referring a child as “it,” like some kind of an abomination.  

When you are a part of the most powerful family and yet keep losing them one by one, becoming a parent is a curse, not a blessing. It’s the most selfish thing you can do. At least, that’s what Fran St. Clair told himself. He decided a long time ago when he buried his flesh and blood, his beautiful sister that he would never father a child. Yet, here he was, facing his worst fear because of one alcohol-induced reckless night with Maya.

God, he was so angry when Maya told him she was taking Luciana home. What the fuck was she thinking? How on Earth was it a sane idea to throw a child into their world of death and despair? His veins were twitching from rage every time he remembered that. He said he didn’t fucking care. That it wouldn’t be his responsibility. That it was all on her, taking care of the child.

In the end, Fran St. Clair was still a human, after all. He still cared. Not that he’d ever show. When he called Margaux and asked him to send a loyalist who was trusted by his father but unfamiliar with the Launceston crew, his aunt didn’t ask any questions. She delivered.

He had met Owen once or twice before, during his visits to Paris. He seemed like someone who would follow the orders and was capable of defending who was needed to be protected. It was good enough arrangement for Fran.

As soon as his men delivered the news of Luciana being taken away, his thoughts drifted to Maya, but it was Owen who he called.

“What the fuck happened?”

He asked and Owen told him the details.

2.

Contrary to Maya’s knowledge, St. Clair money and influence could buy everything. Including the highly confidential information, as of who was the informant to child protective services and where Luciana was.

She was safe. She now lived with the most boring, normal family in America, with a dog and a white picket fence.

His first instinct was to fly to Porto and beat the living shit out of Owen for leaving out the most important fucking detail that HE was the informant. Then Fran changed his mind. Maybe it was for the best. While Owen’s action was inexcusable, the outcome wasn’t the worst thing in the world. In fact, the opposite was truth.

“Do you want me to do something about it? The reports can be turned into mother’s favour all the time…” carefully suggested Fran’s contact in DCF.

“No. This conversation never happened,” Fran was about to hang up, “just make sure she’s well taken care of. Thank you.”

He’d deal with the fucking rat, Owen, later. As soon as he dealt with the Russian and the new shipment he had coming in, he’d fly to Porto and see if Owen had guts to lie to his face about his involvement in Luciana being taken away. Then, he’d beat the shit out of him.

The next time Owen and Fran spoke on the phone, he was hoping he’d come clean and explain his actions, but he didn’t. An icing on the fucking cake, confident Fran didn’t know about his treachery, the asshole proposed.

That, Fran couldn’t put up with.

As soon as the affairs were sorted out, he was on the plain, on route to Porto Velho.

3.

“Proposing, really? Last time I checked, that wasn’t part of the fucking plan.” He hissed.

“I really do love her, Fran.”

“It’s Mr. St. Clair to you, asshole,” he took a step forward, grabbing the man by his collar, “and you have a funny way of expressing love.”

The look on Owen’s face painted with fear. Was it fear of Fran or fear of losing Maya? He couldn’t tell. Probably, both. Not that he fucking cared about Owen’s precious feelings.

God, he was barely fighting off the urge to bash his skull, but he would never kill one of his own. Instead, Fran settled on delivering punches until his knuckles were bloody. It wasn’t what he did that Fran couldn’t forgive. It was the treachery. The broken trust that was unforgivable. 

“You’re going back to Paris and never coming beck. If I see even a glimpse of you anywhere near her, I swear to god, you’ll never be able to eat or move without someone’s help.”

Now it was time to see Maya. A woman who lost her child, a woman Fran could have helped, but didn’t. And that would be a secret Fran would take to his grave.

2

A/N: I threw some past members in there too.

———————————————————-

× Brendon Urie Smut ×

Dressing Room


“WHAT’S UP HOUSTON!” Brendon screamed into the mic, causing a massive fangirl frenzy. I smiled as I watched the millions of faces light up in front of my eyes.


“WHO WANTS TO WATCH THE SHOW?” he screamed, causing another frenzy to break out. I giggled.


“Of course they want to watch the show, why else would they be here tonight?” Dallon asked.


“I don’t know, free food?” Brendon joked, causing a sea of laughter and screaming.


“Free food? I think I might take up on that offer.” I joked into the mic, causing the crowd to laugh again.


“Uh, me too. Brendon, i assume you got the show covered, right?” Ryan joked.


“Ha-Ha. Now, let’s get on with the show shall we?!” Brendon said, causing the crowd to roar.


Being panic!s guitarist has it’s perks. You get to bring joy to a bunch of people’s  faces, you get to witness first hand how hot Brendon is when he sings (and in general), and you even get to see a few drunken fights every now and then.


We finished the first two songs and already, the sweat on Brendon’s forehead and the way his chest heaved had me feeling some type of way. So, I decided to take the opportunity to make him feel the same way I did. Horny.


I started of with very subtle movements, like a few glances and touches. I would walk past him with my guitar and glide my hand over him, causing him to tremble. Thank God the crowd was completely oblivious as to what was happening.


Later on during the show, Brendon decided to give the crowd a ‘different’ show. He took off his shirt to mimic his music video as he sang ‘Girls/Girls/Boys’. This drove me crazy, he must’ve knew what I was attempting to do because now, he was the one giving subtle glances and touches.


Every chance I got I would run my hand along his belt buckle when I walked pass him during a song, my movements going completely unnoticed by the crowd. I shot him glances and winks and he would just bite his lip and keep on singing, neither of us ever missing a beat.


I decided to take it up a notch. I took of my shirt, leaving me in a black tank top and ripped skinny jeans. My cleavage was evidently sticking out the top of my shirt as sweat slowly ran down my neck and chest. I acted like I didn’t notice his stares as I stood up on the speaker with my guitar to perform a solo. I sang with the crowd, jumping slightly in attempt to get the crowd to jump with me.. Soon enough the whole crowd was hype.


I felt Brendon’s eyes glued to my body and I’m pretty sure the crowd noticed as some girls in the front started smirking and pointing. I didn’t mind, because I knew my work would pay off.


“Only 6 songs left..” Brendon said sadly causing the crowd to moan and groan.


Dallon decided to tell the crowd some stupid jokes, giving Brendon the opportunity to tell me what was on his mind, and I knew it wasn’t anything cheery.


“I’m going to get you back later for all those stupid little stunts you pulled tonight.” he said through grit teeth.


“I didn’t do anything..” I said with an evil smirk before walking towards Dallon.


We finished the last six songs, but not without Brendon’s revengeful glances. I could practically read his thoughts through his eyes.


“THANK YOU AND GOODNIGHT HOUSTON!!” Brendon screamed as we all lined up to do our signature bow. I stood next to Brendon, his hand rested firmly on my ass as we bowed. Mission Accomplished.


I practically ran backstage, smiling to myself. I went straight into my dressing room and shut the door.


“Y/N?!?” I can hear the anger in his voice.


Next thing I knew my dressing room door flew open and I was backed against a wall.


“Did you honestly think you would get away with this?” he said as he started his assault on my neck.


“Maybe.” I said, trying to contain my emotions.


“Well, you thought wrong.” he bit my neck and sucked on it some more, earning a moan from me.


My back was pressed firmly to the wall as his lips connected with mine. Both of our tongues fought for dominance, unsurprisingly he won.


His breath was hot on my skin as he moved from my mouth back to kissing my neck. His cold hands slipped under my shirt causing me to shiver. He slipped my shirt over my head and then planted soft kisses on my breasts.


“Why am I undressing you?” he asked stepping away from my body.


“Since you wanted to act like a slut tonight, I’m going to treat you like one, strip” he demanded.


He sat down on the couch in the dressing room as I followed his command. I started by slowly pulling off my jeans. I stood in front of him with nothing but a black bra and panties.


He lit a cigarette and leaned back into the couch.


“Beautiful.” he mumbled.


Next, I moved to my bra. I unhooked it from the back and let it fall to my feet. My hands ran over my breasts and down my curves to the hem of my panties. He smirked as he took another drag of his cigarette before sticking it in the ash tray.


I slowly pulled my panties down, never breaking eye contact with him. I stepped out of them as he slowly walked towards me. He backed me up against the wall once again before pulling off his pants. He was already shirtless due to his little moment up on stage. The sound of his belt buckle hitting the ground turned me on.


“On your knees, love.” he whispered in my ear before kissing it.


I slowly slid down his body, down to my knees. I grabbed ahold of his boxers and slid them down his legs, allowing his hard  member to spring up and slap against his stomach. I wrapped my hand around his cock, and kissed the tip.


“Don’t tease baby..” he warned.


I wrapped my lips around his length and started bobbing my head, making sure to take as much of him as possible. I used my free hand to play with his balls.


His head rolled backwards as the sound of his sweet moans made me wet.


“Fuck baby, you’re so good..” he moaned.


I felt him twitch before he pulled me off of him and brought me to my feet.


“I want to come inside you.” he whispered in my ear as his hands went to my heat. He ran his fingers over my slit, feeling how wet I was.


“Is this all for me?” he asked.


I moaned in response as his fingers rubbed circles on my Clit. He pulled away and grabbed ahold of my hips.


“Jump.”


I did as he said and wrapped my legs around his waist. He lined himself up at my entrance and thrusted in, not giving me anytime to adjust.


“Fuck, Brendon..” I moaned as my back arched off the wall.


He pulled out and slammed back in. He kept a strong, fast and hard pace as my body arched against his.


“Damn y/n, you’re so tight.” he moaned.


“Brendon, Fuck. You’re so good.”


His pace never let up, his thrusts were hard and fast. I felt myself getting closer to my release.


“Brendon, I’m gonna..”


“Not yet.”


His thrusts got sloppier as I tried to hold back my orgasm.


“alright baby, now.” he said.


His hand rubbed circles on my Clit as he pushed me into an orgasm. My body shook against his as he released himself inside of me. He kept thrusting allowing us to ride out our orgasims.


He pulled out and let me down, allowing both of us to get dressed.


“That was amazing.” I said.


He laughed and kissed me on the lips.


“Of course it was, I’m a sex God.” he said as he put on the rest of his clothes.


I rolled my eyes before looking at myself in the mirror to make sure I looked somewhat presentable.


We both stepped out of the dressing room into an atmosphere of awkward coughs and stares.


I walked passed all the guys towards the table of food and snacks they had for the band backstage.


“Fuck Brendon, you’re so good.” I heard Dallon mock as everyone bursted into laughter.


“Shut it Dallon, at least someone’s getting  laid.” I said cause all the guys to laugh again.


^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

A/N: I hoped you liked it, sorry it took so long, I got caught up with school work and shit.

REQUESTS ARE OPEN

Exo reaction when they meet you for the first time and you're his ideal type

Xiumin: “Who is she/he?” *wants to talk to you but is too shy*

Luhan: *watches from afar* “I wanna talk to him/her” (he would purposely stand near you at times)

Kris: *tries to act cool around you but fails*


Suho:“So, um, what books do you read?” *tries to talk to you but is nervous*

Chen:*flirts with you*

Baekhyun: *constantly makes jokes*


Chanyeol: *offers to play you a song*

Kai: *tries to act cute but gets shy after*


Sehun:*gets shy when you’re near*

D.O: *invites you out as a friend after talking to you* “do you want to go get some bubble tea with me?”


Lay: *lots of skinship and talking*

Tao: *tries to become friends with you first then starts flirting*