yeah...i couldn't resist


nct challenge
↪︎ [4] biases: #4 - jeffrey jung yoonoh JAEHYUN
{insp.} {all doodles are mine}


Phantomhive is a shadow, a phantom that exists solely to obliterate the sorrows of Her Majesty, The Queen. Step into its den, and you can never hope to return to the light.”
↳ Ciel Phantomhive 

speaking of race headcanons here’s some filipino!braig for… myself lol ok gonna work on those palette requests now

anonymous asked:

When you watch Rick and Morty

“Hey Yellow Diamond, check out the new dance I made up! It’s called ‘Ooooh Help Me Out!”

“♫ Help me out! Help me out! ♫”

“♫ This is not a dance! ♫”

“♫ I’m beggin’ for help! ♫”

“♫ I’m screamin’ for help! ♫”

“♫ Please come help me out! ♫”

“..I’m going to die on this planet…”

Original scene here

anonymous asked:

possessive!oliver jealous!oliver I'm so here for this

Yes, okay, let’s talk about that! (Unestablished timeline because I suck, but Ollie’s still CEO okay? okay, good)

So they start dating, and for a while, it’s cool - they spend most of their time together, just the two of them, all wrapped up in their little bubble in Oliver’s apartment away from the rest of the world. So it’s not until Oliver takes Barry out to a party that jealousy rears its ugly head. 

It starts off well enough. It’s a formal social gathering - something to do with drumming up business for the company, Barry doesn’t really know. All he knows is that he needs to make nice with a bunch of rich guys for the sake of his boyfriend’s company. So he plasters on his most dazzling smile and shakes hands with every potential client, ensuring to talk Oliver up to the best of his ability. 

Of course, this doesn’t go quite as planned. A few of the guests take to him a little.. too well. Barry doesn’t notice it - but Oliver certainly does, and he’s livid. The women, he can deal with. They’re not quite as forward. They’ll linger their gaze a little longer, flutter their eyelashes, play with their hair and laugh along with Barry’s jokes. 

It’s the guys, though. The ones that let their eyes trail all over his boyfriend’s body appreciatively, leer in his direction, make suggestive comments and grip onto his handshake a little too long. That’s when Oliver finds himself clenching his jaw, trying to control his anger so that he doesn’t ruin everything for the sake of something that doesn’t really matter in the long run - it’s not like Barry would even take them up on any possible offers. Still, he can’t help the curl of jealousy that festers inside him.

The worst of it is, Barry just continues to be polite - to smile at the guys and carry on with amicable chat, unaware of the extra attention, because apparently Barry Allen is unaware of exactly just how gorgeous he actually is - all long eyelashes, gorgeous cheekbones and dazzling smiles. 

So when one guy stands a little too close, gives Barry the bedroom eyes, and rests his palm on Barry’s upper arm, Barry’s barely able to stumble through the flustered rejection he’s attempting to give the guy before Oliver’s yanking him to the nearest coat closet in favour of pressing him against the door, sucking bruising marks into his neck, and claiming him right then and there. 

They stumble out about half an hour later, hair askew and clothing well and truly rumpled, and it may or may not take Oliver a couple of seconds to realise that his fly is still down as they make their way through the deserted hallway and back to the party. No one says anything, but it’s painfully obvious what they’d been doing. Thankfully, a few of the potential clients have a good sense of humour, and arrange to meet with Oliver the following week, providing that he can drag himself away from his boyfriend for an evening. 

If he makes sure to lay his claim on Barry in the moments before he leaves for said evenings, well, no one really needs to know. 

Send me your headcanons and I’ll do a thing

LOOK WHAT THE FABULOUS hattedhedgehog DREW FOR ME (drawing reproduced with her permission)! Everybody, go and follow and commission her, do it now <3.


“I’m sorry.” Dwalin said quietly. “But I’d do it again and again, for your sake.”

They had spoken against their king, had made fun of him and his line. Even if they were deep in their cups, Dwalin would never let that slide, no matter how many times Thorin would tell him to leave it alone. His One shook his head and leaned closer, gently bringing their foreheads together whilst keeping a hold on the bandage he was wrapping around Dwalin’s bruised fingers and knuckles.

“I know.” he answered, his voice rough. “I wish you wouldn’t.”