The Boston Globe reports that hundreds assembled in Copley Square to fight for the validity of science in today’s world of “alternative facts.” Rally participants ranged from Harvard and MIT professors to biomedical engineers to middle school teachers. One uniting factor: Their protest signs were pretty stellar.
todrick hall appearing in this video just goes to show how grateful taylor is of those who support her to no end and the fact she came straight to us today only further proves that - guys i’m so excited for what’s to come, we’re in for a wild ride
I had the honor and horror of explaining/proving today to my local comic book store owner, who is a born-and-raised Jewish dude, that the Black Widow is Jewish. I ended up making a drive home and grabbing my copy of the 83-87 run of her origin story and then going back in person to prove the point today (a week after the original argument)/sit there and watch him repeat, dumbfounded, again and again, “I thought she was Russian Orthodox or something.”
So then I had to explain that Marvel eventually retconned her into having had the Red Room rip out all her memories of life before her parents’ death and thus left her unaware of her heritage. He had a copy of the new version of her origin story. We went over it together in-store, curious, and left mutually disappointed. There’s not one hint of her original origin left other than her very Jewish patronymic still remaining part of her name.
As a Russian-descended person I find that kind of a fitting metaphor for how the Russian government has treated Russian Jews - Natasha can succeed, can be the best in her field, can be beautiful and praised for her moral fortitude, but only if she has all Jewishness forcibly removed from her. It’s sort of befitting the era in which her character would have grown up, especially if Marvel pushes forward with the idea they’ve hinted at that the Red Room’s treatments have stalled her aging and she might be nearly as old as Steve and Bucky.
Out of universe, though, please never forget that Marvel took out all the women from the Avengers except one for their cinematic adaptation initially, and the one they left, they made either atheist or secular enough to casually refer to Loki and Thor as gods. They had a chance to put the first Jewish superhero to the big screen and didn’t even consider it for a second.
Then they made the Scarlet Witch not only not Jewish but Christian in the sequel. Just to twist the knife a little deeper, they made her non-Rromani and went with a fake nationality to top it all off.
And thus I stood before a man whose job was (in part) to live and breathe Marvel and he had no idea Natasha Romanov was Jewish. This new and improved origin story that has no trace of her Jewish roots (in freaking Novosibirsk where there’s a large Jewish quarter of the city, are you kidding me with this Marvel) comes during the same year Marvel published a storyline headed by writer Nick Spencer where Captain America was a Nazi/HYDRA agent all along, a storyline that only got canceled because the fan protests and outcry was so great that between the petitions, boycotts and actual Marvel actors like Clark Gregg (who is Jewish and who Nick Spencer sent the issue personally) publicly stating disgust with it that Marvel realized they weren’t going to be able to sell overt antisemitism. Covert antisemitism, though, we’re still buying - the Iron Man anti-villain/anti-heroine The Mad Thinker/Rhona Clytemnestra Cohen had her surname changed to have always been Burchill and her backstory retconned into her family being the victims of ‘a criminal car bombing’. Not ‘an antisemitic car bombing motivated by the fact my mother was a brilliant Jewish scientist whose coworkers had it out for her’. Just ‘a criminal car bombing’. I have seen all of three people complain about that even though it takes her motivations as a Jewish woman who hates that superheroes don’t save or stand for people like her and turns her into another generic supervillain.
I see what you’re doing, Marvel. There’s a reason I go out of my way to buy my comics from a place that will let me leaf through comics before purchasing them. If you want to keep going down this path, please just be aware that one day, kids will be shown that Captain America panel of him saying ‘Hail HYDRA’ in history class as they learn about the 2016 antisemitic upswing. You are made of the same stuff videos labeled ‘crazy propaganda cartoons’ on YouTube are.
(And yes I know one person’s rants are another person’s no big deal but I am not merely out of fucks to give, I am deeply, deeply in the red right now.)
Herbal tea and chill kinda day today. Second year is proving to be quite difficult to be honest and my life is so disorganised right now. I need some serious motivation and a hard kick up the backside because I can’t seem to focus on my studies at all. 😭
On June 10th, Hajime wakes to a warm weight on his chest, and to a familiar scent all around him. It’s calm, and more comforting than Hajime would ever have imagined - it takes him a moment to orient himself, to place this moment in the context of here and now.
“Iwa-chan,” Tooru mumbles, pressing closer, exhaling against Hajime’s chest.
He becomes aware of the fact that they’re both naked, skin against skin, and immediately feels himself blushing, even as he reflexively tightens his grip to bring Tooru in closer. It’s an instinct, at this point, and waking up like this is routine, even though every morning still feels special. Exciting.
“Hey,” he whispers back, and he can’t even pretend to hide the soft happiness in his voice. He squeezes his arms around Tooru, presses his lips to his hair, and feels his heart soar as Tooru nuzzles into him with a contented sigh.
“…happy birthday,” he says, breath tickling Hajime’s neck.
Don’t plan anything for Saturday, Iwa-chan! You’re mine for the entire day, deal with it!
Like there’s any present he’d rather get than an entire day with Tooru.
Well. He’s sure Tooru knows that, anyway. And there’s no use asking what he’s got planned, because Tooru is big on surprises.
“You know,” Tooru whispers, lifting his head just a tiny bit so he can gaze at Hajime, “this is… I used to dream about this. Waking up with you.”
Hajime lets out a tiny chuckle, joy bubbling up inside him.
“Mmh. But this is…” he hesitates, smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. Then, after a moment’s pause, he cranes his neck and leans up. Hajime lifts a hand, cupping the back of his head as he pulls him closer and brings their lips together. It’s soft, lazy - even so, he can’t help but be reminded of the night before, when their kisses had been much more hurried and desperate. He really gets everything.
Tooru hums into his mouth, parting their lips.
“Hm - this is better,” Tooru finishes. “So much better.”
“…yeah? Sure I can live up to your standards…?” Hajime whispers.
Tooru scoffs, leaning in to kiss him again. “You’re already surpassing every- every fantasy, Hajime.”
“…fantasies, huh?” Hajime says with a smirk. “Really?”
Tooru has the decency to blush, just a little. “…’course,” he mumbles. “I’ve always been- you know. Thinking about you.”
The admission sparks definite interest in Hajime’s gut, sharp enough to break through the soft haze that waking up with Tooru always has him in. It’s unfair, really, that Tooru always has him wrapped around his finger that way, even after years of being together.
And of course Tooru hears the new roughness in his voice, then. Hajime can hear him smile, even as he rolls his hips down against Hajime’s, making him gasp.
“Mhm. Thinking about how it’d feel if- if you kissed me, touched me.”
“Tooru-” “…about all the things I wanna do to you,” Tooru says.
Hajime knows when the time for arguing has passed - Tooru’s fingers are brushing lower, feather-light and warm, and he shudders at the touch.
“…don’t- don’t we have places to be…?” he asks, a last attempt at keeping them on whatever schedule Tooru has planned out for them - but even as he asks this, his fingers are already digging into Tooru’s skin, nails leaving small half-moon prints in their wake.
“Later,” Tooru tells him, into the tiny space between their lips. “Planned for this, too, of course.”
Hajime lets out a laugh, brief and elated.
“Of course,” he echoes, tugging Tooru closer, one hand finding its way into his hair.
The photo shoot for David Bowie’s self-titled 1967 debut album was not the over-the-top affair you might expect: At the time, Bowie, then better known as Davy (or Davie) Jones, would often crash in the London living room of his friend’s photographer brother, Gerald Fearnley, and didn’t have the resources yet for his signature reinventions. Fearnley, who at that point was married and had two kids, and had pivoted from taking photos for the Royal Air Force to staid still life advertisements, embraced the chaos—not that that made it any less unlikely that he was the one Bowie turned to when it came time to make his big debut. “I don’t remember why I took those photos, probably because I was the only one he knew with a studio and camera,” Fearnley recalls in Bowie Unseen: Portraits of an Artist as a Young Man, a new book out this month by ACC Editions. And while the album—and only a fraction of the photos—made little to no noise when they were released the same day as the Beatles’s Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band, today they prove a fascinating capsule to a little-seen phase of the artist, long before Ziggy Stardust. Take a look back at the late icon as a 20-year-old enrolled in mime classes, here.
Characters: Dean Winchester, Sister!reader, John Winchester, Sam Winchester [mentioned]
Words: 3900+ (I’m really sorry about that, but there was no good place to split it)
Warnings: Can’t think of anything specific, really, maybe just that there’s going to be a verbal fight, I dunno. Maybe a bit of swearing, not too much.
A/N: This is the fic I was talking about! It’s a pre-series sister AU, that takes place in between around 2003. Dean is 24, Sam is 20 and at Stanford and you are 17 years old. It’ll also be a mini-series, so there’s more parts to come. It might be a bit all over the place, but I was trying to create a certain feeling. (I don’t know what I’m talking about, but I hope you like it!)
Hunting is hard, and that’s no surprise, really. It’s physically challenging, you have to be smart, have technique, and it’s just hard emotionally as well. And, not only is it hard, but you hate it as well.
Okay, hate is a strong word, but things about it, you really do hate. You hate the way you have to sacrifice what feels like everything for it. You hate the way you feel like you miss out on life. You hate the pain and the constant fear. You hate the way it forces you to see the world more black and white instead of with all the shades of grey. You hate the way you get shut down every time you question this. You hate the way your dad responds with ’because you have to’ when you ask ’why?’.
John Winchester used to be in the military and it shows, you could testify to that. All your life he has been hard on you and your brothers. But, despite this, you are not afraid to stand up to him, question him, call him out. Although it often comes with consequences.
**SMUT**So yeah here’s some smut and I honestly am not really good at writing smut but yet I tried my hand on it. Hope you like it and it gives you major feels just it like gave me. Enjoy and please let me know your thoughts about it ;) Plus reblog if you like it
Harry’s been at the studio the whole day working on his second album. Despite the fact that he just came back from his first tour, he decided to start working on his second album immediately. You didn’t mind it though, yet you did. You expected your husband to spend some quality time with you before he starts his work and that did not happen.
You wanted nothing much but to have him near you and have his full attention and that did happen but only during the nap time because he had this habit to hold you and sleep. He always said how sleeping without you felt like. Lonely, cold and dark. Plus you wanted to start working on your first child and Harry was making it impossible to happen.
Impossible because he always return home tired and in ‘mood’ to have sec or make. You sometimes found yourself wondering that do people actually change after getting married? Hopefully not.
So today, you had to prove your weird wild thoughts wrong. You had to get your old Harry back. How? Well path of happiness passes through the stomach right? So you prepared a delicious English meal with some rich wine that he adored.
You yourself got dressed in a black lingerie that exposed your curves so sexily that were enough for Harry to take you right there. Giving your make up a last touch, you sprayed some perfume on your neck. The cold water droplets caused goosebumps on your skin along with the ring of doorbell indicating your husband was home. Rushing here and there you grabbed your silk cream robe and wore it before padding down the wooden stairs.
“There you are!” You smiled and engulfed your husband as soon as his face came in your view. He instantly wrapped his arms around you coming inside and closed the door with his feet. You felt him tuck his face in your neck. His nose inhaling the scent that you had on and breath hitching in his throat.
“You smell so wonderful” he whispered against your skin. He pulled away and admired your face. His eyes grew darker with every passing second as his breath became uneven. Yes he was drowning into you.
“Is there something I forgot? Any special event?“
“Oh no!” You laughed shaking your head.”
“Then what is it? Why do you look so inviting? I mean you do all the time but it’s just different today? Plus I smell great food"
“Oh it’s just I missed you, I haven’t seen you a lot so yeah just thought to treat you tonight.” You smiled tucking a lock of curl that managed to sneak down his perfectly set hair. Had an interview seemed like.
“But I’m not much hungry you see” he said with hungry eyes. You knew what he was referring to but playing won’t be bad. So you poured and whined like a baby holding his shoulder.
“But I made it with so much of love!!” You said. A chuckle escaped his lips as he saw the childish look on your face.
“I’ve some other plans in my mind. Would fancy to eat something else right now”
“And what is it?” You asked raising an eyebrow and standing with attitude with your hands on your hip. Giving you one more dark chuckle he leaned in closer to you ear. His hot breath fanning over your lobe.
“Your pussy” he said before connecting his mouth to yours hungrily. Your lips smacked together and you sucked and nipped on each other’s lips. His tongue traced your bottom lip asking you to open your mouth that gladly did. His tongue touched yours and gave you a taste of his delicious mouth.
His hand gripped the back of your thighs giving it a good squeeze before lifting you up and throwing on the couch in a one swift motion. You robe already rose up exposing your lacy panties that made Harry growl with hunger.
He sat in front of you on his knees. His hands gave your exposed legs a good rub before taking your robe off roughly. The sight of your boobs exposed in the net lingerie could make him cum without even a touch.
“So beautiful. Shit” he said and attached his full lips on your neck. His scruff rubbed against your skin with every kiss he stole. Making sure to leave purple marks behind decorating your skin. He licked down your collar bone and stopped when reached your boobies. A grin Covered his face as he groped them and gave a good squeeze that made you mewl.
You nodded and bite your lip. The feeling was so good and erotic. His hand kneading your breasts was one of your favorite moment of his and the other that came, and that is him sucking on your nipples like his life is depend on them. His left hand squeezed your left breast with his right one held it, his mouth sucked on your erected nipple and leaving them every second with a pop sound.
His lips were swollen already and his drool was all over them along your breast. Leaving to move on with a heavy heart, he trailed kisses down your stomach that rose with his every kiss. It was difficult for you to sit still with his lips working on you. He pressed his hand on your belly, pushing you down.
You tangled your fingers in his hair as he stopped above your lacy panty line. He had a mischievous smirk plastered on his face as he tilted his head to look at you. Your hair were all over the couch, messed up. Lipstick smudged. Cheeks tinted red. You looked a complete sex goddess to him. His heart was filled with love and hunger and he wanted nothing more but to feast on you like a hungry beast.
“You look so good pet. So beautiful ” he said pushing his right index finger in your mouth. You hungrily sucked and twirled It around your tongue before he took it out and sucked himself before lining it in front of your wet lace covered core.
“Harry don’t tease baby.” You panted.
“Jesus Christ! Just fucking eat that pussy out!!!” You said eagerly. Your panting state made him chuckle before he pulled your panties aside revealing your glistening pussy to him.
“Fuck” Harry muttered under his breath before opening your folds with his thumb and index finger. You were dripping wet that made him so proud of himself knowing he was doing his job right.
Without any further ado he lowered his head leaning in front of your throbbing core. He nudged his nose in taking in your sex aroma.
“Fuck. Jeez you smell so fucking good. I’m gonna eat it so bad.” He growled and you felt his tongue licking widely on your center. His long us flipped your clit multiple times. You gripped his hair from one hand and your boob from the other that Harry dint seem to like and replaced your hand from him giving your boob a good squeeze.
“Shit” you Moaned and rolled your hips against his tongue.
His lips started sucking on your clit making filthy noises. But you didn’t mind them. You loved them. It showed how much of passion Harry holds for you.
“You taste so goo poppet.!!!” Harry said slapping your pussy not too harshly but hard enough to send electric vibes through your body.
“All for you. It’s all yours baby” you said holding his hair. Your words assured him that it all did belonged to him. Your body, your soul all belonged to him. He owned you. You were his and so equally he was yours.
When you guys got married, you both promised to devote yourself to each other. You promised that every single thing in your body wasn’t yours anymore but was owned by each other. And he thanked God for him. He promised to him that no matter what, he always will hold you through the dark. He will always be by your side till his last breath. He was yours for ever.
Harry smiled to himself but your moan dragged him out. He smiled soon replaced with a smirk as he inserted one finger in you with rings on. He knew how much you loved when he fucked you with fingers that had rings on.
You cried out in pleasure when he inserted one more finger and pumped them in. His tongue still working and sucking on your clitoris. The moment was of complete bliss. He threw your leg on his shoulder to give himself better access to your center.
His saliva dripped down his mixed along with the juices of your core. He looked marvelous settled between your core.
“Good yeah? Feeling it baby?? Gonna cum for me yeah? Let me taste you?” He encouraged you whilst his finger pumped inside you and lips on your pussy. And soon you did felt the coil inside your stomach burning up with a knot.
“Fuck fuck I’m coming I’m coming” you cried laying your head back on the couch and you felt yourself reaching your orgasm and spilling it out.
“There you are sweetness” Harry cooed cleaning you up with his tongue as you laid there exhausted and all sensitive.
“You alright petal?” Harry said as he stood up and sat beside you pulling you too his chest. You smiled and nuzzled your nose in his neck. He now smelled like sex.
i know its asking for a lot, but consider dropping uber from your phone since they deliberately and willingly broke the new york cabbie strike today and proved themselves to be exactly what i worried they would be: a bunch of filthy scabs.
He’s usually not this emotional, not this irritated and annoyed and unjustly angry, but today proves otherwise.
And this morning he woke up and Yuuri wasn’t by his side like he usually is, and he knows Yuuri just had to go the bathroom, but waking up and feeling the slightest of panic that Yuuri is gone is not the way Victor likes to wake up.
He’s being overdramatic. As usual.
He coaches now. And his tenth anniversary is coming up in three weeks, and fuck, he’s old, isn’t he?
On his way to the rink, he spills his coffee on his shirt.
At the rink, his skaters are particularly annoying today, two of them even having the audacity to show up late, giggling as they hold hands.
(Victor knows he’s being a hypocrite. He and Yuuri used to do that kind of shit all the time. They still do. But Victor is annoyed today. And he isn’t that young anymore.)
He yells at them for being late, and he feels a slight pang of guilt when they both look down, ashamed, and unlock hands.
But he’s annoyed. His coffee spilled all over him, they were late, and Yuuri wasn’t by his side when he woke up.
All stupid things, he reasons. He knows he’s being much too emotional for a man who’s almost, fuck, forty, but he can’t care today.
He goes home irritated too.
And his overdramatic ass slams the door shut as soon as he does.
“Victor?” he hears Yuuri ask, and then there his husband is, confusion written all over his pretty face.
“Yeah, I know,” he says.
Yuuri frowns. “What’s wrong? What’s… what’s on your shirt?”
“Coffee,” he mutters, walking past him.
Yuuri is silent for a moment and Victor sighs.
He goes over to their couch, plopping himself down. His back hurts for some reason.
Probably because you’re getting old and ugly, he thinks, resigned as always when it comes to his fate.
Yuuri’s hands are suddenly on his shoulders.
“You’re tense,” he says, massaging for only a few brief seconds since Victor immediately leans forward.
He doesn’t have to look at Yuuri to see the hurt on his face.
(He just didn’t want Yuuri treating him like… like he’s old.)
“Victor, what’s going on?” Yuuri asks, coming to the other side of the couch.
Victor doesn’t respond and glares at the ground.
“What do you want?!” Victor suddenly hisses, surprising both himself and his husband.
(Fuck. Now Yuuri hates him.)
“Why are you being an ass today?” Yuuri says, not backing down.
Victor looks up, meeting his gaze. Yuuri’s glare is somehow a mixture of irritation and worry, and that irritates Victor even more.
“Why can’t you just leave me alone?”
“You’re my husband, Victor.”
“And when I’m old?”
(And there it is. Victor’s stupid insecurities. His insecurities about his hair receding and the wrinkles he’s getting. His insecurities of Yuuri still looking like a damn model and leaving him for someone better.
He didn’t use to be this insecure.)
Yuuri’s glare turns into slight confusion, worry, and then finally, understanding.
Victor looks down when his expression softens.
“Oh, Victor,” Yuuri says.
Victor hates this. He hates feeling like this. And he wants so badly to say something something something, but he doesn’t know what to say.
“This is about you turning forty, isn’t it?”
“Yes,” Victor mutters, petulant.
Yuuri sighs, but doesn’t say anything as he sits down next him.
When Yuuri puts his head on Victor’s shoulder, something seems inevitable. Victor just feels like something is going to happen and it’s going to be inevitable, and Victor tenses up in fear over what that might be.
He turns his head to look at Yuuri who’s still resting his head on his shoulder.
They don’t say anything for a few minutes and Victor takes the silence as a time to reflect on how immature he’s been today. He takes the silence to realize that his husband is leaning against him right now rather than saying anything to let him understand that he acknowledges Victor’s fear, but is with him regardless.
“I’m sorry,” Victor finally says, heart heavy in his words.
Yuuri hums softly before pulling his head up and gazing at Victor.
“I know you’re worried about aging, Victor. Frankly, I don’t see how since you’re still as gorgeous as always and you have a good stable foundation as well as a job that you love doing. But–”
“I’m worried you’ll leave me,” Victor admits.
Yuuri doesn’t miss a beat. “Well, you’re an idiot.”
“You’re. An. Idiot.”
Victor’s heart is racing racing racing and he feels that inevitable moment coming up he feels it he feels it it’s so close.
“Victor, marrying you was the best thing I’ve ever done in my life. I love being with you. I love you. I love you so much, Victor, and there hasn’t been a single day where I’ve regretted marrying you. I don’t think, no… I know, I never will. If you think something stupid like you getting older is going to stop that, you’re wrong. In fact, I fall in love with you more every day, idiot.”
Victor stares at him, tears welling up in his eyes against his will.
Yuuri smiles at him, leaning in and kissing him softly on the lips.
This is it this is it this is it this is that inevitable moment, Victor thinks.
“Victor, would you leave me because I’m getting older?”
Victor frowns. “Of course not.”
“So why would you think I would? You’re it for me, Vitya.”
And then Victor truly does understand and he laughs as he wipes away his tears.
“I love you. I’m an idiot. I love you I love you I love you, fuck, Yuuri, I love you.”
BTS Reaction - Sending them a dirty picture over text [NSFW]
No one requested this but I’m gonna do it.
Seokjin [Jin] -
Jin cursed to himself as he quickly shut his phone off. It was his fault after all. He had decided to tease you relentlessly today, which proved to be a bad idea as multiple pictures appeared of you in lacy lingerie. He couldn’t help the dirty thoughts flying through his mind.
“You don’t understand what you are doing to me.”
He would become incredibly aroused which was very frustrating to him, but he knew you were finding it funny. He would lock himself in his hotel bathroom, hastily pulling down his boxers. Jin would urge you to facetime him asap. He couldn’t stand being away from you for so long.
Yoongi [Suga] -
Yoongi’s tongue swiped across his bottom lip as he stared intently at the risqué picture you just sent him. You two have been fighting a lot recently and Yoongi thought it was best that he stay at the dorms this particular night. It was fairly obvious that you were still frustrated with him and decided that it was fair to get back at your boyfriend. His eyebrows pinched together as he hastily typed back a reply, quickly standing up and grabbing his things. All the way ignoring the boy’s questions about where he was headed.
“You better be naked when I get there, princess.”
You stared at the text and giggled childishly, until the sound of the door opening silenced you. Yoongi stared at you with an almost predatory look in his eyes. It was gonna be a long night.
Hoseok [J-Hope] -
Hoseok groaned internally as he heard his phone bing for the millionth time that night. He noticed that you have been awfully naughty tonight and decided to tease your already frustrated boyfriend while he was on tour in China.
“You are playing a very risky game kitten.”
You chuckled under your breath, knowing that Hoseok was already having a hard time without you. Your thoughts were interrupted as another text came through. This time it was a picture, a picture of Hoseok’s painful looking erection which was restricted by his tight Calvin Klein’s. You cheekily grinned at the screen before taking another picture. It was a never ending game between you both.
Namjoon [Rap Monster] -
His eyes widened as he tried to hide his obvious bulge in his trousers. He didn’t expect the text you sent him to be a picture of yourself naked while laying on the soft red satin sheets. It was even worse that he was sat in practice with the other guys, who were crowding around him asking why he looked so shocked. He would excuse himself to his studio and tease you back.
“You shouldn’t have done that baby.”
Namjoon would be very dominating, even over text. He would make you send more while palming himself. The sight of your unmarked skin exposed almost made him cum. It was safe to say that the night would be filled with passionate pleasure.
Jimin lay in bed, minding his own business until you give him the shock of a lifetime. He didn’t expect you to send the suggestive photo, when the notification appeared he expected it to be a cute nighttime text while he was on tour, however he was mistaken his eyes stared at the image.
“Are you free? Skype, now.”
Your skype session would be full of teasing and quiet moans, Jimin making sure that the boys couldn’t hear you two. His eyes never left your form as your fingers teased your entrance and he couldn’t help but touch himself too. Jimin couldn’t resist your teasing, even if he was in a whole other country.
Taehyung [V] -
Taehyung smirked slyly, eyes never leaving the image. You had sent him a picture of you pleasuring yourself knowing exactly what you were doing to him. He imagined his hands replacing yours, teasing your clit with his figures and tongue. He knew he couldn’t get out of this meeting so going to your place was out of the question. However, Taehyung knew how to keep his mind from wandering while in the meeting.
“Send me more babygirl.”
He quietly laughed while hiding his phone under the table as you sent more photos, each one naughtier than the last. Taehyung knew what he was in for once he got to your apartment and judging by the growing bulge in his suit pants he couldn’t be more excited.
Jungkook would become extremely flushed, as his eyes raked over your half nude body in the picture you had sent him. His leg bounced up and down while he sat in the practice area. His body became rigid and nervous as his eyes went from the image to his band members, making sure they weren’t paying attention to him.
“I’ll be there soon. Don’t touch yourself until I get there.”
Jungkook raced out of the room and immediately headed for your apartment. He didn’t care that other people saw his obvious erection as he continued to run. He only had one thing on his mind. You.
author’s note: i know the word civilian makes it seem like they’re background characters in the marvel universe or some shit but i don’t know else to describe it rip (ps: some of these are inspired by the dope vid, other’s are just for fun). these are all so long i’m so sorry i got carried away if i had the time and motivation to make all of these full length 6k word fics, i would buuuuut i don’t so, do what you will with these, instead~~ feedback is always appreciated, and requests are still open! disclaimer: all gifs are credited under each boy’s name as cr., none of the gifs used here are my own; they are cropped for uniformity and easy reading
“Jin, I have the flu, not tuberculosis,” you whine for the umpteenth time today. And for the umpteenth time today, Jin simply shakes his head and shoves two pills into your hands.
“Your fever is finally going down, but it’s still over 100,” he frowns, “Take the ibuprofen and I’ll get you some more soup.”
“You can call it Advil, you don’t have to go all Dr. Kim on me,” you joke.
“Sorry. Force of habit.”
The seriousness in his tone causes you to frown. He’s been like this all day, and for the life of you, you can’t figure out why. It’s just the flu, you think, nothing drastic or life threatening. If you were single, you’d have to fend for yourself and you were far capable of doing so. But anytime you so much as hinted at a minor immune system invasion, Jin was on you faster than you could blink.
He comes back into your bedroom with soup, as promised, more pillows. He adjusts the already overflowing pillows in your bed, and places the new ones under your feet. He hands you the soup and quietly tells you to eat, whilst placing the back of his palm on your neck to check for swelling.
Kim Seokjin is a warm man; he’s your bubbly, friendly, dad-joke-telling, loud, singing-in-the-shower boyfriend who goes on nonstop about his pretty face and who begs for kisses in the comfort on your home. But Dr. Kim is a stoic man; professional, efficient, and concerned only with the safety and health of his patients and staff.
Most would think that having a doctor as a boyfriend would be convenient in times like this—and it was, for the most part—Jin usually ensured that you were happy and healthy. But right now, you weren’t dealing with Jin; you were dealing with the very stern doctor within him, and he only became that person at home when he couldn’t shake off something from work.
You place the soup on the nightstand and sit up before Jin can protest. “Jinnie, what’s wrong?”
Jin opens his mouth to speak, but once he sees the look in your eyes, he knows better than to try and lie to you.
“Even with that fever, you’re still sharp as a tack,” he smiles softly and sighs, “One of my patients died on the table yesterday. It was all a matter of timing—if we had gotten him into the ambulance earlier and I had gotten to the operating room just a bit faster, maybe we could have saved him.”
He looks up at you and takes your hand in his, “And then I came home to you being ill and I couldn’t help but think that if I had better timing when I took you out, maybe we could have avoided the rain and possible food poising and you wouldn’t be sick right now.”
He brings your hand to his lips, and kisses it gently, “I know I’m over thinking everything but, I feel like a little piece of me goes every time I lose a patient. And you—if I ever lost you,” he pauses, “I don’t know what I’d do without myself.”
You shake your head and lace your fingers with his, “I’m not going anywhere, Jin. I promise.”
“Good,” he tightens his grip, “Me neither.”
After a few moments, he gets up, “Now, don’t think I didn’t notice you didn’t take those pills before. Open up, missy.”
“Tell me something new, Jeon,” Yoongi sighs, looking up from the paperwork. Jungkook hands Yoongi a yellow slip of paper, then bows shyly before leaving his office.
Yoongi shouldn’t be surprised at this point. Hobi practically keeps the police station open with the amount of traffic violations and underground shit he brings in here. Yoongi ought to let the rookies write him up this time.
Besides, that rascal’s case is bound to be more interesting than the phone taps he has to read over, so he leaves his desk in favor of greeting Hoseok for the umpteenth time this month—if you can call it that considering it is a police station and Hoseok most likely is here under arrest.
“Alright, Hoseok,” Yoongi’s voice is monotonous and routine, “What is it this time? Spray painting a government building? Speeding? Noise compl—”
“Actually, Captain, I brought something for you this time.”
With a raised eyebrow, Yoongi lifts his head, surprised to see you standing next to Hoseok with a lunch bag in hand.
“Y/N? What—did you come with him?” Assuming the worst, Yoongi’s hand flies to the baton strapped around his waist. Yoongi may be (begrudgingly) fond of Hoseok, but if he’d touched you, he could say hello to house arrest.
“Woah, slow down there, big boy. I saw this one on her way to bring you kiddie meal, so I thought I’d be a nice guy and give her a ride.”
Yoongi flashes between Hoseok’s sly grin and your bright smile. The contrast between the two of you is almost comical; you’re dressed cutely and comfortably, with a homemade meal in your hand while Hoseok sports overly ripped jeans, a dark shirt, a leather jacket to match, and nurses his McDonald’s fries in his left hand.
Once Yoongi rules that Hoseok is in fact telling the truth and that you have no signs of foul play or kidnapping printed on your body, he relaxes a bit.
“It’s true. Hobi saw me on the way here and offered me a ride,” you smile.
“And you willingly got in a car with this delinquent?” Yoongi questions.
“Yah! I’m a good driver, Min!”
“He calls everyone a delinquent,” you wave away his words, “I thought the two of you were friends, no?”
“Yes.” “Absolutely not.” The two answer at the same time.
You chuckle and walk forward to hand Yoongi his lunch. His dark bangs graze over his eyelashes as he leans down to look at you and accept the bag. There’s no peck—you know better than to try that while Yoongi’s at work, although his coworkers know just how ridiculously in love he is with you anyway—but he does give you a soft smile, an even softer thank you. But because Yoongi’s feeling brave today, and Hoseok’s presence proves to be more provoking than usual, he kisses you on the cheek for good measure.
“I’ll see you later, yeah?”
Yoongi nods before you turn to walk out of the station.
“Hey, want a ride?” Hobi quips, keys already dangling. He walks towards you before he’s stopped, choking on the collar of his shirt as Yoongi pulls on it from behind.
“Over my dead body,” Yoongi grunts, dragging him into his office, “Let’s go, Hoseok, you still owe me three parking tickets and an explanation as to why you think you’re now my girlfriend’s personal chauffeur.”
Hobi pouts and attempts to grab you hand, which you pull away quickly. “Baby, come onnnnn. It’s completely safe!”
“Don’t you “baby” me right now, Hoseok. Don’t you need some kind of special license to drive that?”
“No, baby. Come on, it’ll be fun! I thought you wanted to try new things?”
“I meant like taking a cooking class, or learning a language, or traveling to new places—”
“This technically is traveling,” Hobi interjects, only to be silenced by your glaring.
You cross you arms and continue to shoot daggers at your boyfriend across the garage. He’s unbelievable. He’s the only man you know who’s three parking tickets deep and one write up away from points on his license who would still insist on toying with the law (and the city’s unnerving police chief). He’s the only man you know who has three different cars (“well you can’t just drift in any old Audi, sweetheart”) and would still go out and buy a motorcycle. And he’s the only man you know that would try to convince you to get on said motorcycle.
“No, Hobi.” Last time he took you on a ride he insisted would be fun, you swear you got whiplash and lost hearing in your left ear for a week.
Hobi’s a good driver, there’s no denying that. He certainly knew how to handle any car on any road (and it was quite attractive, if you were being honest, the way he would concentrate when taking a turn, or the way he would stick his tongue out and wink at you before cranking up the acceleration, and even the way he came home from time to time with grease stains from fixing up something with Namjoon); but you knew Hobi to be good at driving cars, not the two wheeled death machines people called motorcycles.
“Baby,” Hobi walks over, wrapping his hands around you from behind. He kisses the back of your neck then nestles his head into the crook, “I would never let you get hurt, you know that, right?”
“I know, Hobi.”
“And you know I’m always safe.”
“Yes, I know, Hobi.”
Hobi gently spins you around so that you’re facing him. “And you know you look really hot in my leather jacket, right?”
“What? It’s the truth,” he grins, “Come on, let’s get a helmet on you.”
“No, baby, you have to turn it clockwise, like this,” Namjoon crouches down behind you and adjusts your grip on the wrench.
You can feel Namjoon’s short breaths on your neck as his body molds into your yours whilst he fixes your mistakes. You crane your head slightly, getting the perfect view of his side profile. God, your boyfriend is hot. And oblivious.
“You got it now, baby?” He asks, standing up to hover over you.
You nod mindlessly, more focused on the way his jumpsuit fits him in all the right places; the way the edges of his hair stick to his face with sweat; the way his scarred, blackened hands look once he slips off his gloves.
Namjoon had to be the smartest person you know. Smart enough to rewire the heating/cooling system in your house to be more efficient. Smart enough to do the most complicated of math equations in his head in seconds. Smart enough to build you an entire car if you wanted him too. But goddamn, he was dumb when he wanted to be.
Like right now, for instance. You had absolutely no reason to come over to Joon’s garage and ask him to how change a tire. You couldn’t name one time in your life where you’d actually need to change a tire, or care to know how. You just wanted your boyfriend to bend you over the hood of a car. But clearly, that would be harder than you’d imagined.
“Hey, Joon, can you show me how to check the oil?”
“Sure, baby,” he smiles. You’re going to fucking lose it if he calls you that one more time.
With ease, he pops the hood of your car and bends over to the unscrew the oil cap. He begins to explain to you how to check for low levels and how to put new oil in, but once again, everything he’s saying is going over your head, and your mind is instead filled with images of your shirtless boyfriend.
When turns around to get more engine oil from his desk, you’ve decided you’ve had enough of his lessons. You grab the sleeve of his jumpsuit and force him to face you. “Joon, you know I love you, but I couldn’t give less of a fuck about any of this car shit.”
Namjoon’s eyes become as big as saucers and his eyebrows scrunch in confusion, even as your hands find their way to the nape of his neck. “Then why’d you ask—”
“Are you dumb, or are you dumb? Namjoon, all I want is for you to take me on the hood of one these cars.”
When he finally understands your motives, his signature smirk grows on his face. He reaches into his pocket, brings out a small remote, and presses the green button on top. You hear the garage door begin to close as his hands rest on your hips.
Your boyfriend doesn’t even spare you a glance, simply nodding and sipping on more of his over priced champagne.
“Alright, let’s try this again,” you say, turning to Jimin as much as you can in your seat and as much as your dress will allow. You gently grab his face and force him to face you, “What’s wrong, Jimin?”
For some reason, your usually confident boyfriend is a nervous wreck. He’s a people person; people love him—and what’s not to love? Between his handsome face, celebrity-status hair, sweet soul, and charming smile, there really is no reason not to like Park Jimin.
Park Jimin, however, doesn’t seem to understand that, despite him being South Korea’s most successful CEO under twenty-five, your constant reminders, and it being one of the most basic facts of the universe.
“You know me so well,” he says with a soft smile.
“Well, I would hope so, we are dating,” you tease.
Jimin smiles and laces your hands under the table. “I’m nervous.”
“Nervous?” Jimin nods again, and licks his lips, to which you squeeze his hand for reassurance, “Hey, it’s just like any other of your presentations. You’re gonna knock these snobby motherfuckers right off their feet.”
Jimin smiles, big and real this time, and hangs his head while chuckling. “I’m not nervous about that, baby.”
“It’s not nothing if it’s got you shaking under the table, Park Jimin.”
He blushes, having been caught. “It’s just… I’ve been thinking about asking someone to make a really big merger with the company for some time now. I was going to ask them tonight, but,—”
“You’re nervous?” you finish for him. When he nods, you grip his hand a little tighter. “Jimin, they’d be stupid to say no, okay?”
“You think so?” he searches your face desperately for an affirmative, relief washing over his face when you nod in return.
“I mean, I don’t know a lot about business, I can’t imagine someone being stupid enough to reject the opportunity to merge companies with Park Jimin. I certainly wouldn’t turn that down.”
“You really think they’d be stupid to say no?”
He looks at you for little, with that beautiful smile and that never-ending support of yours, and thinks to himself, that yeah, he’s going to do this tonight. Because he’ll be damned if he has to spend one more day living in uncertainty.
“Okay,” Jimin says.
He gently unlaces your fingers, pushes his chair back and finally, finally does the one thing he’s been waiting to do for three months now; he gets on one knee and pulls out a little, velvety box from his back pocket.
When he looks up, he sees the shock in your expression and the tears already forming at the corners of your eyes. But it was the good kind of shock, and if he knew you as well you knew him, those were happy tears. So he doesn’t fret, doesn’t shy away, and smiles instead. He pays no attention to the crowd forming; it’s just the two of you in the room as he takes your left hand in his right, and holds the open ring box in the other.
“Hey,” he smiles quietly, “Don’t say anything stupid when I ask you, okay?”
“Jin, I love you, but if you tell me to calm down one more time, I’m going to fucking castrate you.”
Jin sighs, backs away from you slightly, but still keeps a reassuring hand on your shoulder. “Hey, this is, Tae, we’re talking about,” he reminds you, “He’ll be fine.”
His words are pretty and comforting and extremely hard to believe given the chaos burning in front of your eyes. But this is Tae, you’re talking about; and that’s what worries you the most.
There are at least three ambulances on the scene, treating family members for smoke inhalation and minor burns; all the neighbors have come outside, pajama-clad and all to assist in (and gossip) in any way that they can; Yoongi is busy controlling the crowd of reporters on the scene; and the once adorable cream-painted two story house that you drove by every day was crumbling before you.
To your left, you see Mingyu and Seokmin being ushered towards EMS. There were part of Tae’s team, so where the fuck was Tae.
“Said he had to do one last check, had something else to find,” Seokmin explains to you.
From the looks of the house, there didn’t seem to be much left to find, you think. You watch as the left side of the house starts to completely collapse into itself. Jin tries to hold you back at the guys in the fire truck move into action.
“Jin, let me go! Where is he?!”
“(Y/N), you have to calm down, I promise you—”
“You can’t fucking promise me anything!” you cry, “It’s not your husband that’s stuck in a crumbling house, for fucks sake! Somebody has to help him, he could be buried under rubble or something, we can’t just—”
Jin suddenly spins your body around, and a plethora of emotions swarms over you, most prominently, relief; but concern is a close second.
Because there’s Taehyung, your Taehyung, covered in ash, heaving heavily, limping slightly, but smiling through it all, as he sets an equally ash-covered puppy down on the concrete to be taken care of by EMS.
You can’t stop the tears from welling as when you run to hug him and he flashes that boxy, dust-covered smile admits all the smoke and ash and chaos surrounding you—when you finally, finally know that he’s okay, that everything is going to be okay.
“I’m so fucking happy you’re okay,” you whisper, as if your words could hurt him if they were any louder.
“I told you I’d always come back to you, right?” Tae squeezes you closer, ignoring the pain that shoots through his body. When he feels the desperate nod of your head he kisses your hair gently.
“Besides,” he pulls you away, while wiping your tears, “I’d have to be a monster to let a puppy die in a fire.”
“Aw, come on, why not?” Jungkook whines, following you around your shared apartment like a lost puppy as you try your best to ignore is absurd ideas.
“Because, Jungkook, those are police-issued handcuffs! Do you even have a key for them, on you?”
“Um, yes? I think so, let me go—”
If Jungkook really thought he was going to get you to agree to him handcuffing you to your bed using police-grade handcuffs, he had another thing coming. This has to be the most fucked up of all of his cop related fantasies.
“It’d be hot!”
“I don’t think having to call Yoongi to uncuff me from our bed after we’ve just had sex fits into my definition of ‘hot,’” you retort.
“What, you don’t think threesomes are hot? Because I kinda—”
“Jeon Jungkook!” you take to hitting him with the closets object within your reach, which happen to be a pillow from the couch. “This is not the time to get kinky!”
“Um, yes it is,” he hops over the couch, “This is, like, the perfect time to get kinky.”
Jungkook grabs your wrist and pulls your body on top of his so that you’re fixed in his lap with his arms around you. He’s got that same shit-eating grin on his face, and that same cute crinkle around his nose.
“So, what I’m hearing is that if I were to buy fake, plastic, baby handcuffs, you’d let me tie you to the bed?”
“It’s a yes or no question, baby.”
“Is this how you interrogate people at the station?”
“I usually don’t have them sit on my lap and I’m usually not asking them about their preferred method of handcuffing, but yeah, pretty much.”
“You call them ‘baby?’”
“Well somebody has to be the good cop, right?”
“Hm, are you saying, Yoongi isn’t the good cop?”
“Yoongi-hyung is definition of—hey, hey! You’re distracting me!” Jungkook exclaims, tightening his grip on your waist, and tickling you as punishment.
“Alright! Alright!” you beg for mercy as Jungkook continues to ruthlessly attack your sides.
“Not until you say ‘Jeon Jungkook is the sexist cop in Seoul.’”
“What are you, twelve? I’m not—” but Jungkook doesn’t give you the opportunity to finish, and continues to tickle you.
“I’m going to murder you, Jeon Jungkook,” you claim instead. Jungkook finally lets up, and just when you think he’s done imparting his idiocy on you for the day, he opens his mouth to speak again.
“Threatening a cop? You know, that’s technically, a crime, babe. I might have to use those handcuffs for real.”
Request: Hey. Could you do an Endverse Dean x Reader where the Reader is alone and one day saves Dean’s life and he is super annoyed. The others invite her to stay at their camp. Dean hates the idea and hates her more because she still has a positive outlook in this messed up world. Can it be angsty, fluffy and smutty?
30 Realizations That Will Change Your Life in Some Small Way
What if I told you a single sentence could completely change how you perceive something? Below are a handful of tiny revelations that will change your life - 30 of them, to be exact. Which ones are the most mind-blowing and paradigm-shifting? That’s up to you to decide. These facts will change how you view the world (for better or for worse), and at the very least, will force you to view something from a different angle. Ranging from anatomy, history, family, food, sports, school, money, pets, and procrastination, there’s a little something for everyone. Looking for tiny, mind-expanding morsels of fascinating and interesting thoughts? Look no further than the life-changing revelations below!
1. If you can’t afford a condom, then you really can’t afford NOT to have a condom.
2. On a clear day you can see about 4 miles into the horizon, but on a clear night you can see light years away.
3. There is a version of you re-created in the minds of everyone you’ve ever met.
4. The object of golf is to play the least amount of golf.
5. Nightmares are so weird. Your brain is the author, viewer and cinema of a horror movie whose script is being written as you are viewing it.
6. Brushing your teeth is the only time you clean your skeleton.
7. My dog keeps bringing me the same toy. I wonder if that is his favorite toy, or if he thinks it is my favorite toy.
8. Your future self is watching you right now through memories.
9. My mom asked me how to screenshot on her iPhone. I laughed and then remembered she taught me how to use a spoon and a toilet.
10. My debit card pays for things with past hours of my life, and my credit card pays with future hours of my life.
11. The only difference between “mostly sunny” and “partly cloudy” is my weatherman’s outlook on life.
12. Mosquitoes are like dirty used needles that can fly.
13. The price of gumballs from gumball machines has been remarkably stable in the face of inflation.
14. What if all the Ancient Greek sculptures are actually victims of Medusa?
15. When a pregnant woman swims, she is a human submarine.
16. In 5 years, we’ll be closer to 2070 than we are to 1970.
17. Almost every hand you’ve shaken has touched a penis.
18. Procrastinating is just enjoying all the side quests in life whilst you delay the main quest story mission.
19. My brain knows how to type without looking at the keyboard yet I can not draw a QWERTY keyboard from memory.
20. Emojis are the closest we’ve come to a universal language.
21. The worst part about food poisoning is that you paid for it.
22. The skeleton isn’t inside you, you’re the brain so you’re inside the skeleton.
23. If Jesus were born today, DNA tests would prove who the father was.
24. Teaching is just brains telling other brains how to be better brains.
25. Teachers won’t let you use Wikipedia, but they make you use 30-year-old textbooks.
26. You can describe something as being indescribable.
27. Trying to get rich by playing the lottery is like trying to commit suicide by flying on commercial airlines.
28. A knee is a really big knuckle.
29. Dog heaven and squirrel hell are the same place.
30. If two people on opposite sides of the world each drop a piece of bread, the Earth briefly becomes a sandwich.