there is no purpose for this

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First 6 minutes are about Net Neutrality and what you can do to help.

Battleforthenet.com

anonymous asked:

Hi!! Could you recommend some jikook fluff fics. No smut please :)

OK! Tooth rotting fluff coming right up!

Warnings : None 
Genre : Non Au, Fluff
Length : 6k+
Summary While on their Wings tour in Japan, Jimin starts receiving gifts from an anonymous person, but it doesn’t take long until he begins to figure out who the presents are from.

Warnings : None 
Genre : Non Au, Fluff, Magic
Length : 4k+
Summary :  Jimin can turn invisible at will. He mostly uses his ability to spy on the other members. But one day an idea strikes him. Jungkook has been feeling down lately and Jimin decides to use his power to send Jungkook notes.

Keep reading

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hey lads i’m finally doing regular style commissions and not just lying to both you and myself for the millionth time!

These will be flat color and in the style seen above! If you’d like the line art as a separate piece hmu

I’ll be doing payments through paypal only and will be sending invoices this time around

I’m taking orders through google form over Here! 

A Song Called Existence

[Playlist Prompt]

There is truth

In little corners of our lives

There are hints of it in songs

and children’s eyes

It’s familiar, like an ancient lullaby

“What do I live for?”


Existence is a mystery

I have a lifetime to unveil

While Purpose is that nagging question

That haunts my aimless will


This carbon shell,

This fragile dusty frame

A canvas, like my soul

I am a bruised and broken masterpiece

And it is not I who painted myself


I know there’s glory in this dirt

The dust I was crafted with

Just as a universe is within the sand,

An eternity within a man


I am more than dust

That means something

I am more than just

Blood and emotions

Inklings and notions

Atoms on oceans


I am breath,

I am mist,

A brilliant fool who ruled and kissed

Wandering in skin and soul

Searching, longing for a whole



Transcending beginning and the end

To justify each breath I spend

I found myself searching

everywhere i go

This question

like a shame no one will show

“What do I live for?”


Songs: Hosea’s Wife by Brooke Fraser; I Am Mountain by Gungor; Economy of Mercy by Switchfoot

@alittlelessclueless

When light meets darkness...

OK, the load of Reylo canonness that shoot our heads off this week (Rian, I love you, really) finally pushed me to write their first night together. You already know the first part of the story…it is set up in Thea, aka @kylorenvevo‘s Landscape with a blur of conquerors, a space opera of galactic proportions. I want to thank her again a million times for her support and the great heads up she gave me : you are a most generous soul. ♥♥♥

For the sake of coherence, I am putting the first part again here. 

The rest is after the cut, with a massive NSFW warning! 

The wedding day has arrived.

Rey appears in the doorway of the massive celebration hall, where she is to take Kylo for husband. For husband. Kriff. Thousands of eyes suddenly turn back at her. She has never felt so nervous. She holds her father’s arm a little too tight. But her minds is elsewhere…it drifts back to the day before, when she and Kylo fought bitterly. The past weeks had been a torment. She had lost her temper and felt guilty after spatting dark words at him; words she didn’t mean. Even is he had been such a jackass to her, she had hurt him, and deeply ; she knew it, by the way he had tried to approach her then, shaking and livid, words dying on his tongue before he could formulate them. He had cast her a sad and almost desperate glance before retreating in his quarters like a wounded animal…

Suddenly, she drifts out of her daydreaming to look at Kylo who is standing before her. She hates to admit it, but he looks as Royal as ever, with his dark hair, piercing brown eyes and pink regal lips.

At her sight, Kylo swallows heavily. So much beauty slightly hidden under that long, embroidered veil, he thinks. Their gaze meet. On his pale face, she reads a mixture of awe, but also, carefully hidden behind his mask, pain. He stands, looking as proud and self-confident as he could ever be, before the thousands of people that are gathered at the ceremony. He knows how to hide his feelings from everyone. Except her. His force signature is transparent and through the force, she feels his utter sadness. She could think it serves him well, after all he has done to her, but the weirdest part is that she doesn’t. She would have preferred not to be the reason of that pain. It means only one thing…he cares. And she doesn’t know how to deal with this insane truth.

Her father passes her arm to him. He takes it and she settles herself next to him in silence, not daring to look at him anymore. Both of them vaguely listen to the priest’s word, his eyes sometimes wandering over her, trying to catch her gaze again.

For protocol, she knows Kylo has to kiss her. As they exchange their rings, he doesn’t let her hand go, and keeps it in his. He lowers his gaze towards her and it is so intense, it almost hurts ; she cannot take her eyes of him. He carefully lifts the veil and then, ignoring all kind of protocol, he places his strong, warm hands on both sides of her face and takes her mouth. She shivers. All his secret passion pours into her through the force at once…but there is something more, something unexpected, that he is begging though his kiss: forgiveness. His lips are so soft and pouchy, it wakes up something feral and unknown in Rey’s spine. She opens her eyes slightly, meeting his gaze again. They both look each other, and she lost for anything to say.

At night, the celebration and ceremony is over. It had been made pretty clear by everyone that they should share a bridal room together, because of, you know, customs. Rey is without her ladies. She is alone with Kylo, who enters  the room and without a word, sits on the huge sofa, as if determined to no walk into her personal space. He looks at her from behind his piercing, dark eyes.

Rey tries to ignore him, and goes strait to the bathroom to change. Better get into that bed and not move for the rest of the night. Nevertheless, after a first attempt, she encounters a slight problem. Her dress is way too tight and she cannot undo it herself. Her throat is dry at the sheer though of what this means. Gathering her strength, she goes back into the room.

“I’m sorry, I can’t…” she says in a weaker voice than she would have wanted, pointing a finger at her back.

Kylo, who, she instantly remarked, had terrible timing and already had discarded his coat and was left only with his silk shirt which showed just a little too much of his broad, muscular figure, only managed to say is “oh”…before standing up and slowly walking towards her. Acting on instinct, she turns over and put a hand on the wall before her, offering her back.

If Kylo had taken off his coat, he hadn’t taken off his beloved gloves. With a instant of hesitation, he bites one with his mouth, and takes the other one off, throwing them both on the floor.  He then looks at her back, and let out of low growl. He wants to protest about how in heaven women wear such complex garnement, but finally decides against it. In silence, he starts unfastening the laces of her very-well adjusted corset, which slowly reveal her naked creamy skin.

How am I he supposed to do this? he thinks to himself. He is a man, after all. She is now his wife, Force sake. Temptation creeps under his skin.

Without a word, he gently put his fingers on her bare, soft skin. She shivered and tenses.

The feeling sent like an electric current through Kylo’s whole spine.

That’s where he looses it. And hell breaks loose.

Slowly, he approaches her from behind, his lips finding her neck and brushing it, laying a soft, delicate kiss. She let out a small gasp. Her whole body tenses. How dare he?

But the feeling is so intense. His lips are hot and humid, betraying his most secret need. She closes her eyes, not daring to move. Kylo softly brushes more of her neck and rises to kiss her ear. Rey’s pulse is racing, her lungs searching for air, eyes still shut. Is that pleasure she is feeling? How in heaven can this man, of all men in the galaxy, achieve such a thing?

Sensing her inner conflict, Kylo whispers in her ear : “One word from you… and ever will I touch you again” He means it. If she rejects him now, he swears to himself he will never be so foolish again. He has his pride, after all.

An internal war is raging in Rey’s mind. Her head wants to turn around and slap him. But Oh! her whole body doesn’t want him to stop. She breathes heavily but says nothing.

His kisses get more passionate as he feels completely intoxicated by her. He looses himself in her scent, and wouldn’t have noticed even if Snoke himself  entered the room. He licks her neck, and lays his hands on her shoulders, caressing her arms from top to bottom. There is a small hot spot down in Rey’s body that wakes up from an unknown place, something she knows she has never felt in this fashion. Desire.

Suddenly, with a flick of his hand, her dress drops to the floor, revealing her body. On instinct, Rey covers her chest. He caresses her back, but she slowly turns around, her cheeks redden by both her own prudishness and desire. She looks down, too ashamed to look at him. He places a finger under her jaw and delicately lifts it up. Brown eyes meet hazel. His eyes are dark, almost feral. She stares at him and what lays simmering behind them. Lust.

Their gaze devour each other in silence. There is no need for words. Kylo approaches his lips to kiss her but she draws back, as if suddenly scared, only for her back to meet the wall behind her. He moves towards her, and pins her on the wall between his two way too strong arms, and his face is dangerously close to hers.

“I want you, I need you” he says with blatant honesty, in a low, rash voice…before whispering in her ear, in an oddly familiar fashion “Don’t be afraid”.

She almost can’t believe what she is hearing. But through the force, she feels him, his need, his lust…and also, deep down, his caring for her. And she knows he feels the same from her. There is no lie. Through the force, they are one.

Her eyes moves from his gaze to his soft pink lips, which are begging for hers. His maleness is utterly intoxicating ; his scent is driving her mad. She breathes heavily, gasping for air. She puts her arms around his strong neck and surrenders to him. If this is surrendering to darkness, then be it. Kylo takes her mouth with ardent, burning passion. She lets him play with her tongue and reciprocates. He kisses her neckline, lowers to her breasts, his hands finding treasures he would never have dreamed of. And the world goes blank.

Where unspeakable stuff happens… NSFW warning. 

Keep reading

I got the room. Moving in this weekend, and considering all my bills will also be hitting this weekend (car insurance came out today), it’s probably going to be a slightly slim two weeks, but considering I won’t be driving an hour to work anymore and am completely adept at living off of pasta and pasta-related products, this should be fine. (Honestly I kind of do that anyway because I am tired)

But anyway. Holy shit, no more dogs or drama and I’m going to beat the winter up to the mountains.

Make that paycheck still hit on Wednesdays and it’s Scotch time, sir(s).

Player Two

(I POSTED THIS TO THE WRONG ACCOUNT BUT IT’S FINE I FIXED IT NOW)

Alright, I know what you’re thinking…

“wOW Ray made an original post,,,? Bet it’s shit lmao”

And you’d be right.

————————————————-

(A few month’s after the Squip incident. One might say the SQUIPcident. (Or not. That’s pretty bad. It’s almost 1am. I’ve been writing for three hours. Sorry.))

————————————————-

“Why did you come back?”

At that, Michael gave Jeremy a startled look. The dim pink-gold light from Michael’s rock lamp cast strange shadows on Jeremy’s face. Hazy fog filled the basement, making his already blurry vision even worse. Michael had taken his glasses off forever ago, the heat of the room fogging them up and making them useless. Smoke curled out of Jeremy’s mouth, his hair unkempt and curlier than ever. It bounced ever so slightly as he leaned back to look at the ceiling, breathing slowly as his eyes closed, allowing him to shut out Michael’s searching stare.

“What do you mean?”

Jeremy sighed, frustration evident on his face as he drew in a shaky breath, pushing himself further into his beanbag. “You know what I mean.”

There was a pause as Michael considered his next words. Jeremy nervously let another mouthful of smoke escape, watching it rise in the hot air to join the cloud wrapping around the two of them.

“I came back for you. And because… I’m selfish.”

Now it was Jeremy’s turn to look confused, and as he finally turned his attention to him, Michael wished he could take the second part back. Jeremy’s gaze was steady and his eyes were so bright in the dim light that it hurt Michael to look at him, and in a moment of weakness, he turned away.

Jeremy continued to stare, waiting for him to say more.

“We rely on each other. Y’know, best friends and all.” Michael laughed anxiously. “What would you do without your Player One?” The unsaid words in his mouth tasted sour, burning a hole in his throat. It wasn’t enough, and it was bullshit, and they both knew it.

“Yeah,” Jeremy grumbled, frowning as he handed the blunt to Michael.

Michael gazed at it in his hand; the hot embers ebbing away, the smoke furling around his fingers, the thin paper fragile in his tight grasp. He looked around until he found his makeshift ashtray, leaning forward to put it out. He could feel Jeremy following his movements, watching Michael as he tucked his head between his knees, observing him as he sighed. Michael ran his fingers through his hair, pulling at it until it stuck up straight. Without warning, he let out a laugh, startling Jeremy behind him.

“When did we start lying to each other?” He asked, his mind a mile behind his mouth. By the time he’d registered what he’d said, Jeremy was chuckling with him. Both let their laughter ebb away to silence before Jeremy let out a hushed answer, his tone somber.

“I’m not sure.”

The silence stretched on for a moment longer, heavy on their backs. Michael shifted to look at Jeremy over his shoulder, still hunched over with his elbows on his knees. A look of desperation and something unfamiliar was plastered on Jeremy’s face, and it surprised Michael, turning his expression to one of confusion.

“What aren’t you telling me?”

Michael felt his face fall, and he swallowed, spit thick in his throat. His heart ached and his stomach curled as he turned to face Jeremy in his beanbag, shifting closer until their knees touched.

“So much,” Michael replied. Hesitant, he reached forward, slow and unsure, watching Jeremy’s reaction. Jeremy stared at Michael’s hand, waiting, until he finally met Michael halfway, pushing his hand up slightly to entwine their fingers: Michael’s dry and callused, Jeremy’s clammy and warm.

“Is this okay?” Michael asked nervously. Jeremy nodded, studying their grip. After a while, he looked up to meet Michael’s gaze, and leaned forward ever so slightly, his eyes staring intently into Michael’s, and his heart wrenched once more.

Michael opened his mouth to speak, then closed it again.

“I’m scared,” he whispered. Jeremy’s gaze softened, and and his eyes flicked downward so quickly Michael wasn’t even sure it happened. A look of determination crossed Jeremy’s face.

“Well, I’m not,” he said, leaning in. Michael knew it was the weed talking, knew Jeremy would never be so ballsy otherwise, knew neither of them would have the guts to do this without it, knew that this may ruin things forever. What if Jeremy took everything back in the morning? What if he pulled a ‘no homo’ and that was it?

What if? What if, what if, what if-

And then their lips brushed, and Jeremy’s breath hit his face, and before he knew what was happening the last of the distance disappeared and their mouths met. Michael forgot everything, and his eyes shut, and it was just him and Jeremy and nothing else. The kiss was wet, and hot, and tasted gross, like pot; but Michael loved it regardless. He felt Jeremy’s eyelashes hit his face as his eyes closed to match Michael’s. He reached up with his free hand to hold Jeremy’s face, and it shook slightly as he gently cupped his jaw, guiding Jeremy to a better angle, one where their noses weren’t scrunched together. He shivered slightly as Jeremy’s free hand found it’s way to Michael’s hip, moving him closer still as he balled the fabric of Michael’s jacket into his fist.

It lasted only a few seconds, yet it felt like an eternity before they broke apart, Michael immediately looking down to their clasped hands, overwhelmed. They breathed heavily for a few moments before Jeremy reached for Michael’s face, forcing him to look up. They locked eyes and stared at each other until a giggle escaped Jeremy’s lips, and it was so endearing and so incredibly Jeremy that Michael couldn’t help but smile and laugh with him.

“We’re idiots,” Jeremy said, letting out a few more chuckles.

“Yeah, but I think we’ll manage,” Michael retorted, grinning.

As Jeremy beamed at him, Michael knew that he didn’t have to worry about ‘what if’s’.

His Player Two would always be there.

Boy I sure do love seeing my art reposted on Instagram by someone who did not contact me and cropped out half of my signature

I drew a boyfriend for my boy [x]

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@ that couple of people that have been writing for my favorite bnha crack ship: I dunno what I did to deserve it but thank you and bless you