*runs off cliff*

6125. There is a YouTube channel called “SuperMetaFails” dedicated to public recordings of superheroes doing epic fails. Some of the videos include Superman accidentally shattering a window with a sneeze and Wonder Woman tripping over her own Lasso. Much to the annoyance of the League, the Titans are some of the most featured heroes. Popular videos of them include Aqualad trying to dive into frozen water but not breaking through, Starfire face-planting from a 3 story height, Beast Boy farting at a public commemoration and Kid Flash accidentally running off a cliff and having to be saved by Raven. The channel has yet to get video of any of a Bat Family member, since they mainly work in the shadows. Robin is annoyingly smug about this fact, but the others know it’s only a matter of time.

Submitted by Anonymous

anonymous asked:

I think it would be super cool to read a fanfic about Bughead meeting at like a support group for depression/self harm. Maybe they were friends when they were little and Jughead transferred schools and they haven't talked since and they catch up and then support each other through their issues :)

Ooohhh I love this idea! You’re so awesome anonymouse 🐭
****

“Are you sure you want to do this Elizabeth, you understand this is your choice correct?” Alice Cooper was gripping the steering wheel so tight Betty was sure she was going to rip into the leather.

“Yes mom. This is.. I have to.. if this works..I’m running out of options.” The beautiful blonde passenger whispered, voice closing with unrestrained anxiety.

Alice barely spared her a glance
“If you feel this is a positive thing then go on, why you can’t just stop that nasty habit of cutting yourself up I’ll never understand but since this is what the family counselor suggested I suppose I have no option. Go on and spread our dirty laundry to the world.” She hissed out bitterly.

Sighing silently, Betty reached over and pressed a kiss to her moms cheek.
“I’ll see you in an hour.” She stepped out of the car, her shoulders releasing pent up tension. She would definitely be driving herself here from now on.

“Had to hitch a ride with the slave driver too huh?”

Turning around at the unfamiliar voice, Betty came face to face with a beautiful African American girl, short brown hair and dark eyes, the gorgeous stranger stuck her hand out

“I’m maya, it’s nice to meet you.”

As soon as Betty reached for her hand Maya snapped it back, her whole body jerking forward causing Betty to stiffen instinctually.

“I’m so sorry! I have Tourette’s, I probably should have told you that first. Really I’m so sorry!” She shoved her hands in her pockets and made to scurry forward, but not before Betty’s hand reached out and gripped her forearm.

“I’m Betty Cooper. it’s nice to meet you too.” She gently smiled and began walking in sync with her new friend.

“You’re new here, first days can be a little intimidating but stick by me in group and I won’t let anyone mess with you.” The taller girl smiled proudly, yelping on a twitch before she draped an arm over Betty’s shoulders and pulled her into the building.

As soon as the two girls walked in Betty felt her panic rise, there were chairs set up in a circle around a desk, almost all were taken except a scattered few, teenagers her age were all talking to each other and all Betty wanted to do was run right back out the front door, maybe her mother was right, maybe this wasn’t a good idea, there were way too many people, too much judgment.

“Hi! Elizabeth right?” A middle aged woman with a short pixie cut and see through blue eyes approached her, gripping her hand and shaking it aggressively “we are so excited to have you at Helping Hearts Rehabilitation Therapy Class, my name is Rosa and I run the therapy sessions here! I think you’ll fit in just fine, Why don’t you take a seat with Maya right up front, were about to start group therapy.” The frantic older woman squeezed Betty in a jug before rushing off somewhere else.

Maya grabbed her hand, rolling her eyes
“Rosa can be a little much but she’s all heart, you’ll get to know her better in individual sessions.” She dropped down on a plastic, blue seat and patted the one beside her as Betty delicately sat down.

Betty took a moment to glance around the room, it was an eclectic mix, people covered in scars, people crying on their own, others texting on their phones angrily while some looked about as nervous as she felt, suddenly she felt an itch on the side of her head, it slowly turned into a burning and she glanced to her right, her eyes going wide at what she saw.

A beautiful boy, something right out of a 1950s greaser catalogue. He had thick, wavy black hair, slightly covered by a crooked beanie, he wore a worn in leather jacket and combat boots, his skin tanned and dirty, he had pouty lips with a natural red Betty would have killed for, the most surprising part about him though? His piercing stormy blue eyes, eyes that were currently burning into her as he stared openly.

“That’s Jughead Jones, he doesn’t talk much all we know is that he has to be here, mandatory from his therapist, rumor has it he tried to run his motorcycle off a cliff… on purpose.” Maya whispered close to her, making Betty shudder.

The boy didn’t look away not even when Betty caught his eyes, he must think she was the absolute definition of lame.

Betty had on a soft long sleeved cardigan covering up the scars littering her arms, the cotton baby blue dress she wore underneath had a peter pan collar and it matched her tiny blue ballet flats, her hair was pulled back into an exceptionally tight ponytail and her light pink lips were painted the familiar shade of “perfectly pink.”

“Okay everyone! I want to introduce you all to our newest member, Elizabeth Cooper.”
Rosa spoke from the front of the room, drawing Betty’s eyes away from the staring contest she and this Jughead Jones seemed to be having. She snapped forward, Maya nudged her with a grin as a particularly vicious twitch shook her body.

Betty smiled softly
“Hello, I actually go by Betty.” She offered gently, her honey sweet voice was soothing and like always everyone was instantly taken by the blonde haired angel.

“Well Betty, we usually start by asking, now I know this may seem a little invasive but it’s good to break it down immediately, do you mind telling us what brought you here today?”

Betty’s eyes widened as her fingers dug into her palms, searching frantically for a way out.

“NO.” She shouted, louder than she had planned
“No, no I can’t.. I can’t talk about it. I don’t.. I don’t talk about that!” She begged, moving to stand as Maya placed a comforting hand to her shoulder. Betty’s eyes were still looking around, their had to be a way out!

Suddenly her sea green eyes landed on Jugheads rainy blue ones, he gazed deeply into her face a meaningful look playing on his features, and just like that her heart stopped racing, she was able to find air and she slowly settled into the seat

“I’m sorry… I’m so sorry, I’m just.. I’m not quite ready to talk about that yet, maybe next week.” She plastered on her award winning smile as she patted Maya’s hand in gratitude, Rosa fell for the picture perfect smile and she nodded reassuringly

“Of course, our past does tend to get most of us riled up. Perhaps next time.” With that the older woman went on with the session, an hour later Betty had learned about the multiple different struggles some of her peers had gone through, while she was sure that by having them share she was supposed to feel better but now she felt even more weighed down by the burden. These people had been through so much, she carried their pain on her back as if it was her own, that’s who Betty Cooper was, unapologetically selfless.

Maya was putting her number in Betty’s phone and swinging her backpack over her shoulder
“I’ll text you tonight, set up plans, catch ya after doll.” She blew a dramatic kiss towards Betty before skipping out the room.

Betty smiled with a shake of her head as she continued packing up her backpack, it had taken her longer than she expected and by the time she was done the entire room was empty even Rosa had left.

“You okay?”

The low timber of an unfamiliar voice had Betty nearly jumping out of her skin, she whipped around to see Jughead standing behind her, a smirk on his face, leaning against a chair with crossed arms, he looked like the sexiest Rebel Without A Cause Betty had ever seen.

“Me? Oh yeah, of course! I’m fine.” The blonde shifted uncomfortably in her shoes as he continued to stare at her “a little stressful sure, I lost my cool in here today, it won’t happen again.” She wasn’t sure who she was assuring, the boy in front of her or herself.

“Why not? You didn’t wanna talk about. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want too.” He shrugged lazily, his eyes drifting to her arms.

Betty smiled a soft tilt of her lips
“Sometimes though, you have to talk about it.. or it never goes away.”

Taking a step towards her Jughead lifted her hands in his her palms flat up as he stared at the moon shaped scars littering her soft skin.

Betty gasped and ripped her hands free, laying them flat on her sides

Jughead smiled again, this time a sad, understanding smile

“It never goes away. No matter what we do.” He whispered, his face dangerously close to hers.

“But we try anyway” betty responded “so we beat on, boats against the current.” She quoted.

Jughead smirked
“I didn’t take you for a F. Scott Fitzgerald fan, although you look the part.. daisy.”

Betty rolled her eyes taking a step away from him and turning her back to him, heading for the door, a mysterious smile on her lips.

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me Jughead Jones.” The door closed shut, leaving Jughead alone in the dark warehouse. Running a hand over his face he couldn’t shake the smile from his lips

“Shit” he mumbled

He was in deep trouble.

According to Annabeth, our family, the Chases, had some sort of special appeal to the ancient gods. Maybe it was our winning personalities. Maybe it was our brand of shampoo. Annabeth’s mom, the Greek goddess Athena, had fallen in love with her dad, Frederick. My dad, Frey, had fallen in love with my mother, Natalie. If somebody came up to me tomorrow and told me-surprise!-the Aztec gods were alive and well in Houston and my second cousin was the granddaughter of Quetzalcoatl, I would totally believe them. Then I would run screaming off a cliff into Ginnungagap.
—  Magnus Chase (The Hammer of Thor by Rick Riordan)
  • Rey: "I can't beat you and you can't beat me. Dead even. So what do we do?"
  • Kylo: "You could be my... umm... dark apprentice best friend slash force bonded soulmate forever and ever?"
  • Rey: "Or... or... I could JUMP OFF THIS CLIFF AND DROWN US BOTH!!" *runs off cliff*
  • Luke: "Damn and I thought *we* were dramatic..."
  • Kylo: *drowning* "DAMMIT REYYY!!!"
  • Luke: "What? She can't swim for real?"
  • Kylo: *spews water in Luke's face*
  • Luke: *delighted* "Wow, this Force Bond stuff is AWESOME!!!" *knocks Kylo off cliff* "Go help her, dark force mate friend bond whatever the fuck you are. She's your only ho."

im crying I just set up that news receiver on Voeld and I spent 10 minutes fighting a giant fucking beasty thing by running away in panic while my pals shot at it from afar (a la Arishok battle) and I FINALLY beat it… and set up the tower… and I got back in the nomad and then I fucking. ran over the satellite dish next to the tower trying to turn around because I am, a very very bad driver, I keep getting banter on how Vetra is terrified of my driving. and the satellite is one of the games just like placed objects and it… fell over. and of course in game there’s no way to stand it up and it doesn’t actually matter for the plot/quest but it’s so fucking funny im just. this is who Ryder is apparently. she goes to honestly excessive lengths to help people and then fucks it up right at the end and just drives away instead. ok. ok.

imagine

pocket sized J-hope catching you online shopping for the J-hope hip hop monster plushie and getting upset and low key jealous

“B-but…Am I not enough? It’s not even cute… Honestly I’m so much cuter than that" *intense aegyo-ing*

Originally posted by frostbittensuga

TRUE DETECTIVE (SEASON ONE) STARTERS.
send a sentence or send ✉ for a random starter. some trigger warnings apply. continued under the cut. change as needed.

  • kind of a strange guy, huh?
  • don’t be assholes. you want to hear this or not?
  • you know, i’ve seen all the different types.
  • we all fit a certain category.
  • i was just a regular-type dude with a big-ass dick.
  • a smart guy who’s steady is hard to find. 
  • i’d offer you a seat, but uh…
  • past a certain age, a man without a family can be a bad thing.
  • this is gonna happen again. or it’s happened before.
  • you get that from one of your books?
  • listen, this is a stupid time to mention this, but you got to come to dinner.
  • there’s nothing i can do about it. maybe not today. maybe not tomorrow. 
  • i’m gonna have a drink.
  • people out here, it’s like they don’t even know the outside world exists.
  • might as well be living on the fucking moon.
  • can i ask you something? you’re a christian, yeah?
  • i believe that people shouldn’t talk about this kind of shit at work.
  • look, i’d consider myself a realist, all right, but in philosophical terms, i’m what’s called a pessimist.
  • i’m bad at parties.
  • i think human consciousness is a tragic misstep in evolution.
  • huh. that sounds god-fucking-awful, ___.
  • i wouldn’t go around spouting that shit if i was you. 
  • people around here don’t think that way. i don’t think that way.
  • so what’s the point of getting out of bed in the morning?
  • i get a bad taste in my mouth out here.
  • i got an idea. let’s make the car a place of silent reflection from now on.
  • what should i bring for dinner?
  • when you’re at my house, i want you to chill the fuck out.
  • i’m not some kind of maniac, all right? i mean, for fuck’s sake.
  • fuck that prick.
  • we’ll lake two large long Island iced teas, please.
  • what kind of tits does she have?
  • you get pills pretty easy?
  • this place is like somebody’s memory of the town, and the memory’s fading.
  • stop saying shit like that. it’s unprofessional.
  • you get any sleep last night?
  • i don’t sleep. i just dream.
  • you believe in ghosts?
  • i’m gonna have to call a little timeout, make a beer run.
  • why is this so important to you all of a sudden?
  • she was high. fucked up.
  • what the hell? you can barely stand up.
  • i don’t drink ‘cause I’ve had trouble with it before.
  • have some more coffee and just try to make 10 minutes of conversation.
  • people change, relationships change.
  • i believe that shit leads to cancer.
  • then start asking the right fucking questions.


Keep reading

I really hope that in future seasons of RvB, Grif will get the chance to really show off his driving skills. There have been some great moments, like in season 6 when he caused the enemies to run off a cliff, and, my god, when he drove into Wash and somehow managed not to get shot in the process. Oh, and his overall ability to drive/fly anything. Not to mention how it seems like Grif kills more enemies by running them over than shooting them.

But it would be so great to have a long-drawn, intense, keeping us on the edge of our seat, car-chase where he can really shine. Put in some explosions, a gun-fight happening on the same time, narrowly keeping the car on the road – all while going at the highest speed possible.
It would just be so awesome to have Grif getting everyone out of a crazy mess, and when he can finally halt the jeep, he’ll be exclaiming: “Holy crap! Did I just do that?”
And Simmons would be leaning over the edge of the car, throwing off his helmet to vomit (off-screen of course, to since they can’t be seen without helmets), groaning: “You ran a red light!”

ltleflrt  asked:

I feel like Dean voicing his understanding of Castiel's problems while fixing his truck is symbolic.

YES. SAME.

I mean, Cas demonstrated his understanding of Dean, what the gesture of returning the tape meant, the fact that Dean told him to keep it, heck even knowing Dean would keep the Colt under his pillow… but he so desperately wanted to protect Dean and feel worthy of Dean’s offer to stay…

Meanwhile he’s googling “how to fix a truck” instead of just ASKING Dean who knows how to fix trucks…

Cas didn’t even know the right question to ask, because he couldn’t even figure out the specific problem his truck was having. He just knew it was broken.

Meanwhile Dean gets his hands on the truck and just goes right to work figuring out the problem, all the while delivering his really accurate diagnosis:

Sam: How does this happen?
Dean: What? The lying? The Heaven plan? Or the fact that I’m working on this stupid truck?
Sam: No, I mean what’s wrong with Cas?
Dean: Well, he hasn’t exactly had a banner year. I mean think about it. Between Lucifer, killing Billie, and Ramiel. He’s so desperate for a win he can’t see straight.

He sees the problem, but he hasn’t found the right words to “fix” it.

It’s like they’re both approaching the problem from right angles to each other. Heck it’s a Gift of the Magi situation, and I’m crying again.

Cas wants to protect Dean from having to do this horrifying thing, Dean wants to protect Cas from doing this horrifying thing…

HECK SEND HELP. I’ve got 6.21 on in the background:

DEAN: Thank you. I wish this changed anything. (Dean is visibly upset.)
CASTIEL: I know. So do I. All else aside, I just wanted to fix what I could.

*insert that clip of willy wonka on the freaky terror boat*

*runs screaming off a cliff*

Sunshine and Daisies

Intro: This was part of the Spring Has Spring Challenge issued by the very talented @kaitymccoy123. The given prompt was “It’s a hobby of mine to prove you wrong” with Jim and the color yellow.

Pairing: Jim Kirk x Reader

Word Count: 1,013

Warnings: None. Just fluff!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

           As the rings of light faded, a sunlit, yellow field extended as far as you could see. It took a moment for you to realize the field was not in fact yellow, but full of daisies. You grinned and closed your eyes, taking in the smell of the flowers and the feel of warm sunshine on your skin.

           “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” your new friend and captain, Jim Kirk, asked from where he had been beamed down next to you.

           “The universe is full of so much beauty, I don’t know how we’ll ever see it all,” you softly replied, smiling over at him. The sun only served to enhance the blue of his eyes and you quickly looked away, hoping he had not noticed you staring. It would not do for your captain to find out you had feelings for him. “So, uh, where to? You mentioned a waterfall somewhere?”

           “This way.” He motioned behind you to a patch of trees where the other crewmembers were headed.

You followed him through the trees and the sound of roaring water grew more distinct the further you walked. Suddenly the trees ended and Jim had to put out an arm to stop you from tumbling off a small cliff.

“Careful. Can’t have you reporting to medical right after shore leave starts.”

You took a few extra steps back, your fear of heights causing your stomach to clench at the sight of the drop. “Yeah, that wouldn’t be good.”

A look of concern appeared in Jim’s eyes. “Are you afraid of heights?”

“Just a little.” You straightened your back, wanting to appear braver than you felt. “It’s nothing big.”

The corner of his mouth quirked up in a smile. “If you say so.” He quickly pulled off his shirt and started unbuttoning his pants.

“What are you doing?” you asked, trying your best to focus on his face and not his well-toned torso.

“Going swimming! Are you coming?” He placed his clothes in a pile and took off running towards the cliff. With a shout of glee, he launched himself off the edge of the cliff and into the sparkling, blue water below. As he reemerged from under the water, he smiled up at you. “Come on in! The water feels great!”

Looking around you realized other crewmembers were doing the same thing, although most were opting to walk down to the water instead of jumping off the cliff into it. Steeling your determination, you quickly stripped down to your undergarments.

“Is she going to jump?” you heard Hikaru Sulu ask.

“Nah, she’ll probably walk in,” Jim answered. “I’m pretty sure she has a fear of heights.”

The urge to prove him wrong formed in your gut, as it did any time someone said you could or would not do something, and before you thought too much about it, you launched yourself off the cliff and into the water. Coming back to the surface, you found yourself face-to-face with a shocked Jim and a grinning Sulu.

“I believe you have underestimated her once again, Jim,” Sulu said before gleefully swimming off. You grinned innocently at Jim before turning to find some of your friends from the ship.

A little while later, Jim appeared at your side. “I know the perfect spot to dry off. Want to come?”

“Absolutely,” you replied, following him as he swam to the bank. You walked back up the incline to where your clothes were and then back out to the field of daisies. Instead of heading back to where you had been beamed down, Jim veered left and walked to a more secluded area of the field. He set down his clothes and laid down on the flowers. You quickly followed suit, soaking in the feel of the warm sunlight on your skin.

           “You’re not at all like I expected you to be,” Jim said, glancing over at you with a hint of admiration in his blue eyes. “I thought for sure you wouldn’t jump.”

           “Well, it’s a hobby of mine to prove you wrong,” you replied, grinning cheekily at him before picking a daisy and caressing the petals with your fingers.

           “Oh is it now?” he asked playfully, rolling to face you. “And what if I told you that I’m certain you’d never be brave enough to kiss me.”

           Your breath hitched in your throat as you met his eyes, the playful gleam in them mixed with a hint of something else that made your heart flip. “I’m sorry, what?” you asked, positive you had misheard him.

           His eyes slid down to your lips and then back up to your eyes. “I said that you’d never be brave enough to kiss me.” His voice held a hint of challenge now and you knew you were trapped by your own words. If you did not kiss him, he would call you a liar and a chicken, as well as gloat endlessly. If you did kiss him, it would change everything and you were not sure you wanted your friendship with him to change, no matter what you felt for him.

           “I don’t…” you tried to get out, your mouth dry.

           He grinned and rolled onto his back again, his eyes focused on the sky. “I guess I was right, then, and it’s not a hobby of…” Before he could finish the sentence, you quickly rolled over to him and placed your lips against his. He tensed momentarily before sliding one hand into your hair and placing the other on your lower back, pulling you tightly against him. He quickly took control of the kiss, his lips and tongue caressing yours.

After a little while, he slowly pulled back and locked his eyes on yours. You noticed his breathing was unsteady, despite the cocky smile now on his lips. “I guess you proved me wrong.”

You leaned forward, briefly capturing his lips again. “I told you, it’s a hobby of mine.”

“That’s definitely a hobby I could get used to,” he replied softly before leaning in to kiss you once more.

Almost every other worship song refers to Jesus as a lamb.
He was pure, innocent. The ideal leader, a role model.
And most importantly- white.
After all, how could the leader of the biggest kingdom on not-earth be anything else but white? Sure, he may have trudged through dust and mud and touched lepers and ate with prostitutes but, none of that stained his pure wool, right?
After all, he had someone wash his feet.
When I think of church, the first thing I think of is church people. Not God or his son, but people.
The glares.
The glares and their homeschooled children who go to youth group when they grow up and go on mission trips and meet their husband at bible college and settle down and procreate more glares. The glares that look at my short hair and assume things, and make me fear what they would do if they were right in their assumption. These glares, these people, they hide their judgments behind tight smiles and save them for dinner conversation.
The second thing I think of is church leadership. The pastor and the elders, who fold up their discrimination and stick it in the front of their bibles.
I think of my mother, who does more for the kids in our trailer park ministry than any of those men ever will, but will never be recognized as an official elder because our translation of this alleged great book says she can’t be.
“Pastor” is a word taken directly from Latin, and it translates to shepherd. It’s the age-old biblical model, a wise shepherd leading his sheep. As long as they’re the perfect, white sheep of course.
But are we sheep or are we lemmings, running off a cliff into hateful ideologies and “God hates fags” signs, simply believing that not only were our sins washed white as snow but Jesus was too?
And what about the black sheep?
Those who have come to worship but have been turned away, on account of their skin or who they love or who they associate with
Those subject to the glares of more perfect families with tastefully sheltered children
Those who just want to focus on God and not the trivial things a bunch of ancient men said he does and doesn’t like
Those who have been charged with appropriating the rainbow for sinister purposes
Those who’ve been told that salvation won’t wash over them because it can only be absorbed by white skin
This is for all the black sheep. You are the salt and the light. You are God’s hands and feet.
You are the ones who are closest to Jesus because he was a black sheep too. He was a man of color, born to marginalized, Jewish parents. The Roman Empire was out to get him. And religious leaders didn’t like him either. They claimed that his power came from the devil.
Doesn’t that sound familiar to you?
The sick, winding road of history has made the church more like the Roman Empire than the family of God.
It has left behind the black sheep, it places thorns upon their heads then glares at them judgmentally when they see the blood dripping.
The white sheep say they’ll love the sinner and hate the sin, but having a person’s “lifestyle” be a sin is a great way to get around that.
They’ll proudly wear their “What Would Jesus Do?” bracelets without really knowing who Jesus was.
So when Jesus is called a lamb, think of what he really was, a vulnerable minority, covered in the dust and mud of the earth, with rich, black wool.
— 

Black Sheep by Danica Moon

Hearts Don’t Break Around Here

It’s James Potter’s birthday. I wrote this thing. It’s not about his birthday, but it’s about James Potter so come at me it’s relevant.

Yes, it’s another Ed Sheeran inspired fic. No, I’m not sorry.

Also here: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/12422791/1/Hearts-Don-t-Break-Around-Here


If she’s honest, he terrifies her a little bit.

She didn’t expect to feel this, this much, for him already. For his laughs and smiles and smouldering eyes and frantic fingers to fill her dreams, his jokes and winks and devilish smirks and waggling eyebrows to fill her days. She can barely pull her mind from the firm planes of his chest, the long lean muscles of his arms, the way his chin feels as he rests it against the top of her head when he hugs her from behind, the way his forehead feels pressed against hers, his breath blowing in waves over her face, panting because neither of them can ever quite control themselves. She can’t keep her eyes from his across the table in the Great Hall, her fingers out of his hair when they’re laying in bed, her lips from any part of him when they’re even remotely within touching distance of one another.

He’s everywhere and everything and it’s overwhelming and it terrifies her because she should be more scared than she is, she should want some kind of distance, but instead she just wants to press him closer, kiss him constantly, wear her heart on her sleeve so he knows just how much she feels for him.

But with this, with the realisation of just how much she loves him, how much she wants him, needs him, everything, comes the realisation that he could crush her, press her between his fingers and smash her into dust. Loving him means trusting him not to do that, and she does trust him, with her life, but she can’t help the bubble of fear that sometimes forms in her chest in the middle of the night when she wakes up in his arms and realises that she doesn’t know what she’d do without him.

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Flight Pt 2

Season 1 Masterlist

Michael Scofield x Reader

Word Count: 1,384

Warning: Language

   The car was quiet for the rest of the way and you didn’t move from your position, finally feeling comfortable after so long.

   “All I wanna to do is touch her belly,” Sucre said randomly, and you remembered his girlfriend was pregnant from their last conjugal. “Feel that he’s in there. After that, whatever I gotta do, I’ll figure it out. I just wanna touch her belly. We’re close, papi.” He sounded like he was smiling, which made you grin against Michael’s shirt. It fell when announced trouble and pulled the car over. You looked out the window to see a roadblock surrounded by police. Dammit.

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anonymous asked:

some fic ideas if you're still taking them: **link kinda looks forward to the red moon. It's bittersweet cause he is in more danger but at the same time at least he gets to hear her voice and knowing she is alright (and hearing her being worried abt him) makes him feel some comfort. **link and zelda adopt a puppy or a big dog (just the idea of them having dogs, they would be that kinda couple no doubt about it)

Hey hey hey, I could only pick one prompt to work on and I went with the angst of the Blood Moons. Don’t worry though, I will be writing something about BOTW Link and Zelda adopting a dog in the future (because that idea is to cute to drop) so keep your eyes peeled for that xxx

(This one ended up being quite short, sorry)

And now without further ado 

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