drop lid

Break Down

So here is a langsty idea: Lance finally breaking down but at something small 


-


Lance sits, cross-legged opposite of Blue. He was holding a paintbrush dipped in polish to her claws.

He diy’ed some polish and made it to be highly resistant to damage. Swords? Lasers? Bullets? Not a crack in sight. It was tougher than nails.

“If only it could help with my self esteem right, Blue?” She raises a mental eyebrow, unimpressed by the joke. He chuckles.

“A few more strokes…”

“…and…we are… done.

Lance leans back grinning as he admires his work. Nicely done. Sky blue was definitely her colour. Blue thrums in agreement.

Lance had waltzed into her hangar a few hours ago declaring that it was spa day. He had spent it repairing, cleaning, and buffing out the dents in Blue.

This wasn’t a rare occurrence. They would usually do this every once a week or after a mission that leaves her badly wrecked.

He does it with joy. He does it remembering the days on Earth cleaning the heck out of his house with his family.

But today he was doing it as a distraction.

Blue knows.

“You are sad.”

A loud metal clang echoes throughout the room. Lance winces.

He was so caught off guard by the blunt statement that he dropped the metal lid used cover the container full of paint.

The floor was blue.

Why can’t you do anything right?’

“Fuck,” He cursed under his breath. Everything building up from the past week spilled over at the minor inconvenience.

`Seventh Wheel.’

Fuck,” A tear threatened to fall, prickling at the corner of his eye. This wasn’t suppose to be a big deal. This wasn’t suppose to set him off. The lid rolled away from his grasp as he tried to pick it up.

‘You should be more like Keith.”

FUCK,” He gave up chasing the lid, choosing to slam his leg into the metal can and it flew into the air and across the room.

He could almost catch a glimpse of the bright sky back on Earth. It fell back down, wet against his face like rain.

The paint stung.

“Fuck.”

Every breathy gasp held frustration. He repeats the word over and over until the it was strange on his lips. He basked in the bittersweet relief it gave him.

“Lance,” something in Blue`s voice grounded him, A soothing hum reaches out, washing over him through the bond. “Breath.”

He stops.

Inhale. Exhale.

His pulse evens out

Lance paused for a good few ticks before proceeding to lie flat on his back on the floor. The only thing that reached his ears were the ocean waves hitting against rocks through their bond. He stayed like that for awhile; staring puffy eyed at the white ceiling. 

He shifts his body to the right, facing the lion.

“I deserve to die.”

Missed You

Harry’s lap was vacant and I couldn’t find a more suitable seat. It didn’t happen often anymore—us sitting together, or rather me sitting on top of the man. As a second priority under work, I had no room in my schedule for him. However, when we did converse, it involved sluggish caresses and pouty red lips, both which I adored. He was neither tired, or fatigued so I took up both roles.

It was book: I would remove my jacket, let it cling on a hook, and mumble a quick ‘hello’ before wandering to my study where I’d bury myself in piles of works. Right now, I wanted nothing more than to drown myself in his scent. With a careless toss of my outer layer, I crawled into the living room.

“Hi,” Harry said automatically. “How was your day?” His expectation was a blasé mutter and a grumpy shrug, and somewhere along the third week, he’s refused to even raise his head to look at me. He didn’t expect my shadow towering over him, and he definitely didn’t expect my crashing figure on top of him.

“What—!” he grunted when I let my body free fall onto him. Harry’s response was hesitant, and after he’d tenderly tucked my head into his neck, he peered around curiously at my face. His nose briefly brushed against mine.

“You alright?” he inquired and the concern in his voice dripped onto my face. My lids fluttered closed, enjoying the way his voice rumbled and vibrated against my ear. A dazed smile spread across my face and I probably looked crazy but I didn’t care even the slightest bit.

I licked my lips.

“I just wanna feel you,” I said innocently as I picked my head up and my arms went around his neck. I smashed our cheeks together and held him tightly. “Missed you.”

“I’ve got a koala for a girlfriend,” Harry snickered.

“You need to shave. I missed you,” I repeated, quieter this time.

“Yeah?” he smiled delightfully, orbs glistening with fond as I knuckled at my eyes. They were bloodshot, I knew. I nodded and released him from my hold, keeping a steady elbow on him as I continued to vigorously rub my eyes until her caught my wrists and brought them down with a soft, but firm, tug. “Gonna pop those bad guys right out if you keep that up, flower,” he advised me as if I were a child.

I liked feeling like a child with him.

Then, Harry properly looked at me with clear eyes and a watering mouth as thrill shot through my spine and all my worries erased with a single of his arched brows. His eyes were kinder than usual and a beautiful shade of green plains. They weren’t tired, like I expected, but dulled down anyways from his work day. He blinked dolefully.

“Missed you too,” he breathed, winding his arms across my torso. His touches were tender. Tender was the only way I could accurately describe him.

My fingers clumsily pressed against him under eyes. They had darkened a couple shades and no matter how hard he slept, they were imprinted on his skin, just like I was. Leaning forward, I dragged my lips over the areas I touched. A laughter burst through Harry’s chest and my fingers tightened their hold on the hair along his nape.

His lashes were soft against the tip of my nose which almost made me sneeze, however I held my breath to savor the moment. When my lungs couldn’t burn and writhe any longer, my eyes watered and I dropped my head onto his clavicle as I sneezed into his shoulder.

It was second nature of his to cradle my head whenever it rested on any part of his body and secretly, I loved it. I cherished it but never told him in fear he’d timidly refrain from doing it again.

“I’d say bless you,” he said as he scrunched his nose. “But I’m afraid you’ll sneeze again, closer to my face.”

“I don’t have sleeves,” I groused with a frown on my face. “Besides, is that a couple milestone? Sharing germs? Getting each other sick?” I smiled sweetly at him as I laid my head onto his shoulder, waiting for his fingers to slide into my hair. When they did, I swallowed a content hum. He continued his torture by scratching at my scalp and I gulped, forcing myself to incarcerate another muffled sound of approval.

Harry didn’t reply. Two minutes passed and he remained stoic expect for his hand that worked in my hair. The television didn’t cease its background noises behind me so I opened my mouth to question his motives, or perhaps apologize. Apologize for what, I didn’t know, but coming home unreasonably late was a good start.

“Hey—”

“Stay quiet,” he almost whimpered as, I suspected, his eyes fell closed and breathing evened. His voice was suddenly garbled a giant my shoulder as he held me like a flimsy doll to him chest. A couple deeper breaths filled the air as he thoroughly inhaled my scent and my own lids dropped to a half open state. I refused to remain quiet during times like these, yet I couldn’t bear to ruin this moment. Eventually, his hands started gingerly rubbing my back and I caved heavily and instantly. He was the first to speak, tapping my thigh twice as a signal to display my face.

His eyes were filled with my universe. I counted the stars with awe as he spoke.

“I’m in the mood for cupcakes,” he lazily grinned, a childish and cherubic expression on his face. How much I loved that face.

I recovered. I stood up and unbuttoned my jeans, feverish at his stare, ready to fulfill his wish.

Sugar, I’m Goin’ Down// Bad Boy Shawn // Chapter Six

Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter Four | Chapter Five

Chapter Five Recap:

Shawn sighs. He’s frustrated. “I’m sorry for everything that happened. I am. I can’t take it back, I can’t change it. I know this, but I can try to make amends and like I said I don’t want your forgiveness. I want another chance, no jokes, no Andrew, no one but you and me.”

You look up at Shawn and he’s got tears in his eyes. Something inside you breaks, seeing him like this, so vulnerable. “Shawn…” you sit up and he clenches his jaw and looks toward the window, eyes trained on nothing in particular. “Shawn, I’m sorry.” you don’t know why you’re apologizing, you hadn’t done anything wrong, it just felt like you had to apologize. Shawn’s nose scrunches up and his cheeks flush as he starts to cry. It’s heart wrenching, watching this guy who you’ve known to be nothing but a snarky sarcastic ‘bad boy’ fall apart right in front of you.

“Fucking shit,” he mutters and wipes at his face. “I shouldn’t have come over,” he says and heads for the door before you can say anything else.

Shawn shows up three days later in the middle of the night. You hadn’t heard from him since the morning you skipped class. You took it upon yourself to make copies of your notes and homework for him in case he needed it. After he left you had thought about everything he said. He clearly had feelings for you, feelings you didn’t know were so strong and you realized you had feelings for him too. It hurt, deep in your chest, when he had started crying. The way his nose scrunched up and he looked away, it destroyed you. Seeing him like that made you put aside the panty prank and want to hold him and protect him. He was turning out to be less of a bad boy and more of a boy in a bad situation.

So there he was, standing on your front porch and staring at you when you opened the door. You had been awake studying for a test and hadn’t realized the time until you heard the doorbell ring. Shawn looked pretty terrible even in the dim light. He looked like a man who hadn’t eaten or slept in a few days.

“I forgot to give these back,” he says, voice rough, strained. He holds out the panties he had taken from you for the prank.

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Naughty Boy*

Steve Rogers x Reader Fic

Paring: Steve Rogers x Reader  |  Word Count: 2068
Warnings: Fluff, Embarrassed Steve, Smut NSFW (18+)

Song: Nasty Naughty Boy by Christina Aguilera (this is what happens when I spend the day trolling Spotify instead of being productive.)

Summary: Steve’s birthday takes a surprising turn.


“What in the world are we doing here?” Steve asked, cheeks already reddening.

“You only turn a hundred once, Cap,” Natasha snickered, leading Steve toward a table just slightly off center of the stage.

“Yeah, but…” he sighed when Bucky clamped the metal hand on his shoulder and shoved him in a chair.

“You’re such a wuss. It’s not a strip club, so what’s your beef?” Bucky snickered.

“Yeah, Cap. It’s burlesque. You don’t even get to see… the fun bits,” Sam snickered. “Plus, this is a nice place. Classy.”

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Salty

Pairing: Chris Evans x Reader
Rating: Teens and Up
Summary: Reader bakes cookies for the first time and it turns out pretty interesting and funny when Chris comes in the kitchen.
Word Count: 1.3k
Genre: Fluff!
Warning: suggestive themes.
Author’s Note: it’s inspired by a scene in One Tree Hill involving Leyton (Lucas & Peyton), my one and only ship/otp! This series is actually really good; it’s my childhood even if it wasn’t suited for children… oops.

Originally posted by capsteverogers-things

As you baked a large number of cookies for your family, specially visiting you the next day, your boyfriend sat on a sofa - with Dodger - in the open-plan living room. He checked his e-mails and other important information about his next films coming up in the following years.

“Chris, it’s ready!” You pulled out the first pan from the oven and dropped some of the dough by large spoonfuls onto another one. The rest containing either chocolate chips or white chocolate chips was divided into two different bowls for the next couple of batches.

“Hey.” Chris appeared behind you and you turned your head to peck his cheek. He winked, stretching his arm and he took one of the cookies on the worktop.

As he chewed the chocolate biscuit still quite steamy, Chris made a face that said a lot about the taste of it. He pressed his lips together until he brought a paper towel to his mouth, spitting the cookie out.

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The Wetter the Better

this is a short blurb based off of this ask and also this ask :) 


Waking up next to my boyfriend of more than a year was something that never got tiring. Hearing him stretch and yawn out of his sleep, watching him twist and turn his half naked body in noisy grumbles as he fought off the need to actually get up out of the bed….it was one of the best parts of my day. But waking up next to my boyfriend, who was more than eager for his first day visit to the Masters, and seeing him doing a silly shirtless snapchat that he would send out to all his fans, now that was something that would never get old.

Rolling over in the bed to face him, I watched him pull a funny face into the snapchat camera, my hand cupping over my lips as I struggled to contain my giggles. He was the biggest goofball, mostly saving it for me, but every once in awhile he’d share his silliness with the world and that made me love him even more. But also I couldn’t help but want to poke fun at him for it. When he finally finished his early morning gift to his fans, he tossed his phone down to the end of the bed. “Mornin’, love,” he mumbled out to me, eventually slinging his arm around the dip in my waist over the covers and nudging my sleepy frame towards his.

I breathed out a smile. “Giving your fans a little treat, huh?”

“Shit, I’m excited, baby,” he mentioned as he shrugged his shoulder and turned the one corner of his mouth down, “and I do what I gotta do to keep ‘em on their toes, you know that.”

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anonymous asked:

teen pregnancy bughead??

Okay, here we go! This is slightly AU, I feel like this is at least 6 months after they started dating, possibly to a year. I hope you enjoy.


Teenage Pregnancy


Betty wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, flushed the toilet, and left the stall.

Veronica waited outside with a bottle of water for her. She was looking at her pointedly.

“What?” Betty demanded.

“You know what.”

Betty took a swig of water and spat it into the sink. She accepted the piece of gum Veronica handed her, then washed her hands.

“No, I don’t.” 

“B, that’s the third day in a row you’ve been sick.”

“So?” Betty took a small sip of water, praying she’d keep it down.

Veronica took a glance under the rest of the stalls, checking for feet. After assuring they were alone, she took a deep breath. “Are you pregnant?” She asked.

“Oh my god.” Betty’s face blanched. “No. No, I can’t be. We’ve been safe.”

“Safe in what way?” Veronica murmured.

“Condoms,” Betty blushed.

“Well, those are only 98% effective, my love. When was your last period?”

“Like, a month and a half ago.. two months ago, maybe. I’m not exactly regular, though, Ronnie. I’m not pregnant, I just have a bug.”

Veronica nodded. “Okay, B. Off to lunch, then?”

Betty nodded, shoved the bottle of water in her bag and followed Veronica out the door.

They sat down opposite Archie, Jughead and Kevin.

Veronica bit into the apple on her plate first, immediately joining a conversation between Archie and Kevin about music.

Jughead was stuffing his face with french fries, nodding along.

Betty scooped a plate of potato salad into her mouth. She spat it into a napkin, gagging. 

Veronica looked at her quickly, raising an eyebrow. 

Betty took a few gulps of water, hoping to ease her queasy stomach. 

Betty took out her phone, texting Veronica. Will you go to the pharmacy with me?

Now? She got back a second later.

Now. Please. Betty typed back hurriedly.

Veronica stood up first, placing her apple back on her tray. 

“Where are you going?” Kevin asked lightly. “You just sat down.”

“Girl problems.” Veronica said. 

Maybe it was the fact that it was only three guys at the table, but they didn’t ask questions.

Betty’s face was bright crimson. She stood and walked with Veronica past the packed tables, through the grass, off campus.


“I’m scared, V.” Betty murmured as they pulled open the door of the pharmacy.

“Just breathe. I’ll buy it, don’t worry.” She said as if reading Betty’s thoughts.

They made their way through the aisles, Veronica walking slightly in front of Betty, as if to guard her. She grabbed a two-pack of pregnancy tests and a small bottle of anti-nausea pills, then made their way to the front of the store.

Veronica paid, cocking her eyebrow at the cashier, daring her to make a comment.

The two girls made their way out of the store, Betty holding onto Veronica’s arm. 

“What if I am?” Betty murmured.

“If you am, you am.”

“This is not the time for Sex and the City references.” Betty muttered.

“Sorry. We’ll figure it out, Bets. You gotta take the test first.”

“V?”

“Mm?” Veronica said, patting Betty’s arm.

“Thank you.”

Veronica squeezed Betty’s hand, continuing the walk in silence.

Since they skipped the last few classes of the day, the Cooper residence was empty.

They walked up the stairs, Veronica passing the bag to Betty. They headed directly to the bathroom.

Veronica stopped at the door.

“What are you doing?” Betty asked, knitting her eyebrows together. 

“What?”

“Come in with me.” Betty urged.

“You sure?” Veronica asked.

“Yes,” Betty started, her hands shaking as she started to open the box. “I don’t know what I’m doing.”

“I’ve never taken a pregnancy test, either, Betty.”

“Read me the back?” Betty said, taking both tests out of the box, handing Veronica the packaging.

She set one test on the ground, keeping the other in her hand as she sat on the toilet, lid down.

“Okay,” Betty breathed. “Okay.” Betty stood, lifted the lid, dropped her pants and sat back down.

“So, hold the white tip under your… stream for at least 5 seconds.That’s basically it. Wait three minutes, then we’ll see.” 

Betty tore open the package, hands shaking. “Can you turn on the tap?” She basically whispered.

Veronica nodded and turned on the tap. She stayed turned towards the mirror to give Betty a little privacy.

“Do you want to take the other one now, too? A little reassurance?” 

“Might as well,” Betty answered shakily. 

Veronica handed the other test to Betty, then turned back around.

“Okay,” Betty whispered after a moment. She stood up, then placed both tests against the sink.

“Three minutes starts now,” Veronica whispered, setting a timer on her phone.

Betty washed her hands. “Veronica I’m going to go crazy, distract me.”

Veronica grabbed Betty’s hand, leading her out of the bathroom. She sat her down on the bed in Betty’s room. “Tell me what you like about Jughead.” 

“What?” Betty said, dumbfounded. 

“You like him, right?”

“Of course I like him,” Betty blushed. “I love him.”

Veronica smiled. “Well, what do you love about him?”

“Where do I start, V? I love the way he treats me. Like there’s nobody else in the room. Like I’m a princess.” Betty looked up, smiling. “I love that no matter what hand he’s dealt in life, he’s kind. He gives people the benefit of the doubt. He’s got these hopes and dreams that.. that for someone else, they might seem so far away. But he’s going to make his dreams come true, V. He’s so smart. He’s so witty.”

“What else?” Veronica asked.

“The way he smells.” Betty laughed. “Is that weird? I love the way he smells. I sleep in his tshirt as often as I can because it feels like home. He knows things about me that I didn’t realize I wanted someone to know. Does that make sense? I guess it’s just because he pays attention, but it feels like… so heart warming. It makes me happy that he pays attention, that I never had to tell him these things. He knows how I like my coffee, and how I like my tea, and when I want which. He knows my favorite movie - both of them. The favorite movie I tell people is my favorite, the favorite that is actually my favorite.”

Veronica laughed.

“He knows my favorite ice cream, my favorite toppings. When I need him to make me laugh or if he shouldn’t say anything at all, and just be my shoulder to cry on. He knows I’d rather have a forehead kiss than a hug, because forehead kisses calm me down.”

Veronica had tears pricking her eyes.

“I love that he’s tall enough for me to hear his heartbeat when I hug him. I love that he references books and movies that most guys our age haven’t even heard of. I just… I love that-” Betty was cut off my Veronica’s alarm.

“It’s time, Betty.”

“That was a good distraction tactic.” Betty murmured. She slid off her bed, grabbing Veronica’s hand.

They walked slowly to the bathroom, Betty’s palms sweating.

“You have to look, I can’t do it.” Betty murmured as they entered the room.

Veronica nodded. “Either way, it’s going to be okay. I promise.” She said before picking up the tests.

“Okay,” She breathed.

Veronica picked up one test, set it back down, then picked up the other to see if it had the same result.

She set that one down, too.

“Well?” 

“It’s positive, Betty. You’re pregnant.”

Betty dropped onto the bathroom floor. “Shit,” She whispered. 

The Bowman

Daryl Dixon x Reader | 18+ Warning | NSFW | Smut |

Summary: I don’t know this is just a random thought I needed to write out. Daryl is the bow instructor at the Hilltop and Reader has a crush on him. Daryl notices and puts the moves on her. Pure Daryl Smut. Enjoy. Post Season 7 Era.

—–

You watched as Daryl instructed the group of 15-20 people, who all stood in a line against a long wooden fence that surrounded the inner walls of the Hilltop. This fence’s purpose usually was simply an extra line of defense against the dead fuckers, in case their outside wall ever went down. But, today and from here on out the new people were using it to train a group of people from Alexandria, The Hilltop, and The Kingdom.

You stood inside the walls, leaning against the wall of the massive building you all took refuge in, watching the new man as he instructed the group. Your eyes took him in with caution. Truth be told you weren’t too interested into letting new strangers inside the walls, especially strange men. You had seen all too well what kinds of men survived this world. But, you couldn’t help but notice how attractive he was. Your eyes roamed his body. He was sweating through his black button down shirt and his hair glistened in the heat. His hard jawline, broad shoulders and chest were nothing compared to his intense eyes.

You smiled to yourself as you watched him adjust Timmy’s elbow as the 12 year old boy concentrated on stretching the classic bow out, trying to aim the arrow.

“You gotta keep that elbow tucked in and straight, little man.” Daryl instructed, gently putting his arm back in the position the kid needed to be in.

Timmy nodded, licking his lips and narrowing his eyes, as he concentrated on the target that was setup yards away against the very back wall. He pulled his arm back, holding it has tight to his body as he could, and released the air into the air. It soared through the air, on track, until it hit the backboard of the target. It landed slightly below the bulls eye.

Timmy smiled to himself proudly at his accomplishment.

“That’s good! Keep that elbow in and you might just be my best student so far.” Daryl patted the kid on the back and Timmy looked up and smiled at his compliment.

“Now, keep practicing.” Daryl’s praise was short lived as he re-focused the boy back to practice.

There was a line of people from all 3 towns, of all ages, both men and women who wanted to learn how to shoot. King Ezekiel had come to the Hilltop with Daryl claiming this Bowman could help us all stay safe and fight against the saviors. The Governor wasn’t thrilled to have more people invading his town, but did agree that protection against the saviors should be the top priority. He had begrudgingly allowed the new people into your town.

“Good job, Sue… Keep that arm tight…” Daryl helped Sue readjust the heavy bow in her hands, steadying it for her and squaring her hips. She released the bow and barely hit the board.

“A hit is still a hit, keep trying.”Daryl encouraged her, continuing down the line of people with all different styles of bows, a collection the three groups had found over their scavenging.

“Good work, Mark… You pull the trigger like that Jake, get ready to feel a major kickback. Watch your finger placement… Excellent shot, Anna!”

You watched as he went up and down the line coaching the new bowers as they all continued target practice. You smiled happily to yourself, wrapping your arms around yourself, as you took in this stranger.

“Someone’s got a crush.”

You look over to the doorway of the building you are leaning against and see Jesus emerge. He props his forearm on the doorway and leans towards you with a crooked smile on his face.

You roll your eyes and smack him, leaning over just long enough to make contact with his right shoulder before slumping back onto the wall. Your eyes go back to Daryl and the bowers as you hear Jesus chuckle.

“Why don’t you go give it a shot.” He laughs more heartily.

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It’s Complicated- Part 3 (Jason Blossom x Reader)

REQUEST(S): Part 2 to “Its complicated” is sooo good omg!!, Part 3 to It’s Complicated? 🙏🏽🙏🏽 , Jason blossom complicated part3!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Pleaseeeee.

WARNINGS: A few swear words

WORD COUNT: 1897

A/N: So, this is  the last part. I ‘m so happy you guys loved them so much! I had so much fun writing them. Requests are open so don’t be afraid to leave one, I love writing your ideas <3!

PART ONE   PART TWO



You didn’t immediately go to your house. You wandered around aimlessly for a few hours before you decided it would be a good time to get home. The alcohol had left your body and you were practically sober, something you didn’t want to be right now. The shock of what had happened started to kick in and you found yourself hyperventilating in your bedroom, tears streaming down your face. You felt your heart burn and you cried out. You hurt all over, your heart, your head. You Mum and Dad burst into your room and called out your name but they sounded so distant, so far away. You reached out to them and they bundled you up in their arms, your father held you in his arms and your Mother stroked your hair. You cried for what felt like hours into your Dad’s shirt, your Mum shushed you, trying to calm you down. As your breathing returned to normal, your Dad picked your limp and exhausted body and placed you into your bed and tucked you in. They sat on the edge of your bed, looking at you with concern. (Y/N), what happened?” Your Dad ask. You sigh and close your eyes.
“Jason and the new girl, I caught them kissing in his bedroom during the party.” You say. You feel your Dad tense and hear your Mum gasp before covering her mouth. You wipe away the tears that had spilt from your eyes and grabbed your parent’s hands. “It’s okay, I can get over it, I can move on.” You assure them. They look at each other before squeezing your hands.
“We’re right here if you need us Sweetie.” Your Mum says before kissing your forehead before leaving your bedroom.” Your Dad does the same, turning off the light and closing the door while giving you small smile. Your exhaustion takes over your body and you feel your eye lids drop before being pulled into a dreamless sleep.

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Ours Part Two

Originally posted by jughead-thethird

Originally posted by elizabethccoper

Paring: Archie Andrews x Reader

Requested by Anonymous: Loved, loved, LOVED, your most recent imagine “Ours” and was wondering if whenever you got the chance you could maybe do a part 2 where Archie and the reader tell Fred about the baby? I just think that it would be totally adorable for Fred to get home from the hospital and just see a little archie!

Words: 1274

Part One

Note: Just like the first one, this one is pretty sappy and kinda short but God, I loved writing it! I hope you enjoy and don’t forget to send in a request yourself! Also, I know absolutely nothing about children, so if there is anything unrealistic, please forgive me.

For the rest of the afternoon, the three of you just hung out in the living room. Veronica went home to give you and Archie some quality time. The house was warm and cozy, so you couldn’t help it when you dozed off for an hour or two. It had been a long car ride down from the city and you definitely enjoyed finally getting to rest. When you woke up, you found that you weren’t the only one that was sleepy. Archie was laying on the floor, his eyes closed and mouth parted in a miniature smile with a little Freddie fast asleep on his chest. You moved so that Archie’s head was in your lap and lightly moved a piece of ginger hair out of his face. His sleepy smile widened and his eye opened slightly.

“Hey.” He said. You put a finger to your lips and pointed to the baby sleeping on his chest. “Oh.” He grinned and whispered. “How long do you think until I can move?” You shook your head.

“I don’t know. It might be a couple hours.” You leaned down and placed a kiss on his forehead, followed by his nose, before reaching his lips. He sighed into the kiss, but you pulled away, shushing him again. “You don’t want to wake him.”

“You are evil.” He growled softly, bringing his head up to kiss your jaw. A sound outside caught both of your attention. A car engine. Archie’s eyes grew wide. “My dad’s home.” You cautiously lifted your son. He started to cry, but you got him to calm down with his favorite bear. Archie had already run outside to meet his dad, but Mr. Andrews was through the door before Archie could even begin to explain the situation.

“Y/N? When did you get-” He stopped, his gaze falling to the ginger headed baby in your arms. He looked at you, then Archie, then back to the baby. Then back to you, then Archie, and back to the baby. He brought his hand up and smacked the back of Archie’s head. “When were you planning to tell me about this?”

“Now actually.” Archie groaned, rubbing the spot Fred had hit. You laughed.

“Archie didn’t know until today either, Mr. Andrews.” You stepped closer to the pair. “This is Freddie.” A bright smile spread across his face.

“You named him after me?” You nodded and he held out his arms. “Well let me see him.” Archie sighed in relief and you handed Freddie to his grandfather. He grinned down at him and Archie moved to put his arm around you. Fred glanced up at you. “He looks just like you, Y/N.” He shifted his gaze to Archie and smirked. “Thank god.” Archie rolled eyes and smiled.

“Now that you’re here, I can finally show off my new cooking skills.” he said and excitedly pulled you into the kitchen. “I started learning while you were away.” Fred followed the two of you with Freddie tugging on the collar of his shirt.

“I don’t know Arch, maybe it’d be better to head to Pop’s.”

“I am perfectly capable for cooking a meal for my girlfriend and my son.” He beamed when he said the last word. The part of you that worried about Archie’s acceptance to being a father faded away. Obviously being in high school and having a kid was not ideal, but having Fred and the Lodges was hopefully going to make it a little easier. Fred rolled his eyes and went back into the living room, bouncing little Freddie in his arms.

“Are you sure you know what you’re doing?” You snickered as Archie wondered helplessly around the kitchen looking for the right pan or the correct ingredient. “What are you even making?”

“It’s a surprise. Now go.” He shooed you out of the kitchen and you laughed, sitting next to Fred on the couch.

“I’m not old enough to be a grandfather.” He groaned and you laughed. He turned to you with a sincere look in his eyes. “Do you need a place to stay? Cause I’m sure we can fix up a room for you and this little guy.” He tickled Freddie’s foot, sending him into a fit of high pitched giggles.

“Actually the Lodges have already set up a place for me to live like they did when I was in the city. It’s small, but it’s nice.” He nodded as you explained. “I made sure it was near here. I wanted you and Archie to be close.”

“Are you planning to go back to school?” You blew out a breath.

“Yes?” He gave you a puzzled look. “I want to, I really do. I just don’t know if I can take care of Freddie and go to school.”

“We can make it work.” He promised. The two of you began hatching a plan that would allow you to go back and attend Riverdale High while still being able to take care of Freddie. Schedules were made, babysitters were researched; you were quite productive as a team. It wasn’t until after you had figured out when Fred would be working and when he’d be home that the smoke alarm from the kitchen blared. Freddie started to cry and Fred tried to calm him down while you rushed in to find Archie swatting at the fire coming from one of the pans on the stove.

“Archie!” You yelled. Since the fire wasn’t too big, you grabbed a large pan lid and dropped it over the flames to suffocate them, yelping when it nearly burned your arm. You turned to Archie with your hands placed firmly on your hips. “What did you do?”

“I don’t know. I tried to fry some vegetables and it just… whoosh.” He pouted, staring down at his feet. You ruffled his ginger hair, your heart melting for the puppy-dog-look on his face. “I just wanted to make you dinner and now my kitchen looks like I’m some kind of tornado.” He huffed. You looked around. He was right: there was water all over the floor, smoke created an haze between you, and utensils were strung about the counter.

“Maybe next time.” You said, kissing the tip of his nose. He pulled you closer to him, wrapping his muscled arms around you. Someone coughed and the two of you pulled apart. Fred stared at the two of you with a knowing smirk on his face. He had managed to stop Freddie’s wails and the baby was now rocking peacefully in his arms. He raised an eyebrow at the sight before him.

“I take it we’re going to Pop’s?” Archie nodded mournfully. Fred handed Archie his son and gave him a pat on the shoulder. “Don’t worry kid. When I was in college, it took me four months to actually put a frozen pizza in the oven.” He grabbed his keys. “I’ll be in the truck.” Before he left, he turned to deliver one last message. “And don’t think I’m not grounding you, because I am. You are so very grounded so that this,” He motioned to the red headed baby, “doesn’t happen again.” He left the kitchen and you could hear the door close behind him.

“This is happening.” Archie said, looking down at Freddie who was reaching his tiny hands up at him. “I’m a father.” You stood on your toes to kiss he cheek.

“Yeah. And I have a feeling you’re going to be a great one.” You laced your arm through his and your new family walked out of what finally felt like your home.


Part Three

audreycritter  asked:

Prompt request! Alfred dealing with Bruce's young adult globe-trotting absence and/or the times Bruce comes home for brief reprieves. :-D

i got ya back, audrey! hope you enjoy :) sorry for the delay there’s been like 87898 things in my life deciding they would all just like to happen at once, here’s a mix of the two

“If you would continue down the hall to my left, you would find a very large, very beautiful door, tragic it doesn’t go into use these days. Some persons prefer the window approach.”

Alfred flicked on the light. Bruce yelped, and dropped his ham sandwich in surprise. “Alfred! I didn’t - I didn’t want to wake you. I didn’t know you were still awake.”

I don’t sleep well with you on the other side of the world, Alfred wanted to say. He settled for raising a brow and gesturing to the ham sandwich. “Clean that up, Master Bruce, and put it in the bin where it belongs. I will make you a proper meal.” 

“Oh, Alfred, you don’t have to do that,” Bruce said, bending down to sweep up his sad attempt at cuisine. “I’m not all that hungry. It’s late, you should get some rest.”

“And you should have ice on that eye,” Alfred sniffed, gesturing towards the blackened mass that had once been the left half of Bruce’s face, but now closely resembled a purple, lumpy beach ball, with a little bit of green on the edges. Alfred packed a plastic bag full of ice, wrapped it in a towel, and passed it off to Bruce.

“What are we making,” Bruce asked. “What can I get for you?”

“Vegetable soup,” Alfred sniffed. “I assume you know the ingredients.”

Bruce grinned, albeit a little lopsided on the side of his face that was currently out of commission. “I think I remember.”

And then he limped off, because of course he was limping, as if Alfred’s heart hadn’t dropped enough when he’d seen Bruce’s face, as if he didn’t lay awake at night wondering if Bruce was alone and cold and hungry and in pain. Alfred grit his teeth, and pulled out a pot.

Bruce returned with an armful of ingredients, and dropped them off of the counter.

Alfred shooed him away. “Put that leg up. I’ve work to do.”

Bruce, for once in his life, listened, and watched Alfred combine tomato juice and chicken broth. “You’re mad at me, aren’t you?”

“Whatever gave you that impression.”

“You’re… snippy,” Bruce said. 

Alfred poured in the water with a little more force than necessary. “I would argue that ‘snippy’ is my job description.”

Bruce huffed. “I thought we’d already fought about this.”

And a beauty of a fight it’d been - the times the two of them fought, the house didn’t shake with the force of their screams, nothing was thrown, nothing was smashed. Their battles were fought almost entirely in measure of will.

“We have,” Alfred hummed, skinning a carrot. “That doesn’t mean I have to like it, Master Bruce, when you come home looking like you’ve been hit by a truck.”

Bruce was silent for a moment. “It was a horse, actually.”

Alfred turned to glare at him. “A horse?”

“Riding a wild horse is part of the, ah, curriculum,” Bruce explained. “It’s supposed to - “

“I am fine without the details, thank you.” Alfred slid the chopped carrots into the pot. “However, if the animal - ahem - kicked you - “

“No, no, it didn’t. The ground’s just… hard.”

“Oh, yes, very hard indeed.”

“You could be sympathetic,” Bruce whined. 

Alfred studied a potato. “I could, I just choose not to. After all, you have a large, cozy home to return to, with a larger, cozier trust fund. For some inane reason, you choose to spend your time in the wilds of China seeking out… zen.”

Bruce chuckled. “That might be the most British thing you’ve ever said to me, congrats.”

“Mhmm.”

While Alfred finished dumping ingredients into the soup, Bruce studied the kitchen like it’d be years before he saw it again - the same look he always gave the Manor, when he finally came home. Of all of the things Alfred had seen, nothing filled him with fear quite like that look did. 

Alfred dropped a lid on the pot, and turned to Bruce. “Your leg, Master Bruce.”

“Hm - what? My leg?” Bruce asked. “Oh, it’s just bruised some.”

“I don’t know if it’s worse that you still try to lie to me, or how fantastically bad you are at lying to me,” Alfred said, and he gestured at the leg Bruce had propped up. 

Bruce rolled his eyes, and leaned forward to roll up his cargo pants (and the pants alone were an insult the closet of fine clothing Bruce had just upstairs) revealing a thick wad of old bandages. Not old enough to cause any problems - just sweat-stained and starting to give a little too easily. 

Alfred pulled out the first aid kit he kept in the kitchen, for the odd times he cut himself with a knife. Bruce straightened. “Alfred, you don’t have to - “

“Yes, I do,” Alfred said, simply. He set to work cleaning the wound again and wrapping it back up - if Bruce registered the pain at all, he didn’t show it. Alfred didn’t want to think about how much battery it would take, for such a tolerance to build up. He didn’t want to think about that at all. 

“Thanks, Alfred,” Bruce murmured.

Alfred stood, joints popping. “Next time, don’t try to tame a wild horse, for pity’s sake.”

“It was part of the - “

“Defense of yourself is futile,” Alfred said, waving his hand. Bruce grumbled to himself, and slouched lower in his chair, looking for all the world like the surly teen he’d been just a scant few years ago. In fact, Alfred could remember a night very much like this one, when Bruce had been fourteen and filled with a rage nobody could seem to define. 

That year, when Bruce had tentatively suggested the idea that he might go to the homecoming dance, Alfred had been beyond ecstatic - maybe, just maybe, this weird child of his would turn out normal after all. Maybe they’d be just fine. Of course, Bruce had later sat at that same table and held ice to his swollen lip, suit rumpled and his bow tie undone, and confessed that the only reason he’d wanted to go was because he wanted the chance to punch Ryan Parker in the teeth somewhere he couldn’t get expelled.

“Tuck in,” Alfred said, sliding Bruce a bowl of soup. 

After they’d eaten, Alfred sent Bruce off to bed, and Bruce growled something about not being a child anymore under his breath, and for a moment, Alfred let himself believe that Bruce would still be in Gotham in a week, in two, maybe three. He let himself believe that this was it, that the dream Bruce was chasing ended here; no more bruises, no more cuts, no more alleys. It was, of course, just a dream of his own.

A miracle

Words: 1000
Joe Sugg x reader
Youtuber

“Baby will you get the door” I shout to my boyfriend fiance Joe. I hear his feet shuffling towards the door and take that as a yes. Joe had proposed to me about a week ago and it was the best moment of my life, today we were having everybody around our house to celebrate- an engagement party as such. 

I check my makeup and hair in the mirror, exhaling before standing up and heading downstairs. I see that the buttercream boys have arrived so I hurry down the stairs. I head straight for Jack wrapping my arms around him. He laughs and lifts me up spinning me around. 
“congratulations” he cheers. I smile and he sets me down. 
“thank you” I say and move over to hug the other boys. The doorbell rings and I run to the door. Jim, Tanya, Naomi, Mark, Marcus and my best friend flood in. Joe and I all give them hugs. Joe’s parents and grandparents are next, shortly followed by mine. The last to arrive is Zoe, Alfie, Poppy, Sean and Mark. I give hugs to everyone and they all break off into their own little groups to chat. The music is playing and the drinks are flowing. I’m getting a crisp from the food table when an arm snakes around my waist. I look up and smile when I see Joe. 
“you haven’t drank at all tonight, are you ok?” he frowns. I nod with a smile. 
“just don’t feel like it” I shrug. He frowns but I lean up and peck his forehead smoothing the creases away. 

“and here’s the happy couple! can I vlog this?” Zoe asks. I laugh and nod. 
“Joe’s video is out tomorrow so say what you want” I smile. She grins and pushes Joe out of the way hugging me. I cuddle into her. 
“I can’t believe we’re nearly related” she sighs. I laugh. 
“I know crazy right, who’d think anybody would settle down with your brother” I tease glancing at Joe. He pouts and I lean up to peck his lips. He smiles and I smile too. 
“stop this is too cute” Tan interrupts, also vlogging. I’m whisked away by Zoe, Tan, Naomi and Poppy. 

“we’ve been here this entire time and you haven’t shown us the ring” Poppy tuts. I gasp and fling my hand out to show them. They all grin and we end up squealing like little school girls. I look over at Joe and he smirks. I roll my eyes playfully and look back to the girls. 
“I can’t believe you’re getting married” Naomi mutters. 
“I know, I remember when you first started dating him, after your first date you were texting me saying you don’t think he’s that interested” Zoe giggles. I blush. 
“And now I’m going to marry him” I exclaim getting a bit emotional. All the girls coo, catching the attention of pretty much everyone. Tan pulls me into her side and I giggle wiping my eyes. 
“Can I steal her back ladies?” Joe comes up behind me. The girls smirk and I turn to Joe. He grabs both of my hands pulling me into him. 
“I love you” I grin putting my chin on his chest. He tilts his head down at me.
“I love you too” he replies leaning down to kiss me. I pull away. 
“I have a present for you” I grin. He raises his eyebrows. 
“oh yeah?” he taunts. I nod with a big smile. I unwrap my hands from his and run upstairs to get the bag. I hurry back downstairs. 

“uhm everyone can you all go into the living room?” I shout turning the music off. Everyone’s eyebrows furrow but they turn going into the living room. They all fill the couch and the sides, a few people having to stand. Joe sitting on the edge of the couch and I stand in front of him. 

“thank you all so much for coming we really appreciate it. Its not always easy to see everybody and I miss you all a lot when I don’t. This party is obviously in aid of Joe and I’s engagement” I smile holding up my ring hand and everyone cheers. “But I also have a surprise. It’s been a really hard year, as some of you may know earlier this year I got told I wouldn’t be able to have children and that really took a toll on me but Joe was my rock and I couldn’t have gotten through this year without him” I choke out starting to get emotional. Joe smiles and grabs my hand. I squeeze his and continue on with my speech. “so for that I got you something, really special. You may all want to, if not already vlog this” I giggle. People who weren’t quickly whipped out their cameras. I pick the bag up and pass it to Joe. He frowns and takes it. Everyone is waiting anxiously. 

He takes the box out and lifts the lid. He immediately drops the lid and holds his hands over his mouth. 
“are you serious?” he stutters. Everyone is trying to see what it was. I nod and he lets out a sob standing up and pulling me into a bone crushing hug. 
“what just happened?” Joes mum laughs nervously. Joe laces his hand in mine and faces everyone, looking at me for approval. I nod. 

“we’re pregnant” everyone gasps and we are thrown into many hugs and congratulations. 
“HOW?” Zoe asks. I shrug. 
“I went to my doctor and she said its a miracle” I laugh. She smiles wiping her tears away. She goes over to Joe to see what it was I got him. 

I hear her laugh loud and grin. Joe smirks at me. 
“this is the best present you could ever give me” he whispers. I kiss his lips and pull back with a grin. 
“I try my best” I say flicking my hair over my shoulder. 

Here you go @super100012 ! This is a bit random (turns out it’s a little difficult to think of a whole story from one facial expression :p) but I did my best! I hope you like it :)


     “Y/N?” You cringed as the pot lid you’d dropped spun on the floor, the sound no-doubt the reason for Dean’s sudden appearance. “What are you doing?”

     “Uh … Making dinner!” you said brightly, straightening up with a too-quick smile.

     Dean looked around the kitchen, taking in the counters strewn with the contents of now-empty cupboards and the guilty look on your face, then spun to face you. “Sweetheart,” he said softly, “I thought we agreed I would do the cooking from now on.”

     “Well, we did. But -”

      “The last time you tried to make dinner you almost burnt Sam’s hair off.”

     “Oh, come on!” You leaned against the counter with a huff. “You set one microwave on fire and suddenly you ‘can’t be trusted in the kitchen’.”

      “Seems reasonable to me.”

      “Bah!” You waved your hands dismissively. “It’s just KD, the instructions are right on the box! What could possibly go wrong?”

     “I don’t know, you tell me.” Dean made a face that was anything but impressed and gestured to the stove behind you. “You’re the one who managed to make smoking pasta.”

     “What?!” You spun and found that the pot was indeed smoking, the water the macaroni had been floating in long since evaporated and the noodles burning onto the bottom of the pot. There must not have been enough water. You turned sheepishly to Dean. “Okay, fine,” you conceded. “You can do the cooking.”

     Dean chuckled and pulled you close, strong arms wrapping around your waist. “Come on,” he said, kissing the top of your head. “I’ll make us some burgers.”


*GIF not mine.*

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A-Team

When I was asked by anon about Damian being his awkward self and giving out gifts to the whole batfamily, this post popped into my head. Full kudos, love, and credit to @oh-mother-of-darkness for pointing this out because I died when I read it. I love Damian and his hard outer shell and soft inside. Like a chocolate covered caramel XD.


Damian hurried back to his room and dove onto his bed, digging his tablet out from under his pillows. Just as he was laying back and activating the tablet he noticed that his door was open and he growled. Quickly, he got up again, shut the door silently, and ran back to his bed. His fingers flew over his passwords and the screen, activating the camera application he’d created himself.

Multiple windows popped up on his screen and he scanned them quickly. Everything was in place and it was all ready to begin. Now all he had to do was wait and watch. He couldn’t help but feel a tiny bit of excitement. He’d spent weeks getting everything together and making sure it was all perfect and finally it was coming together. It reminded him of that old TV show Grayson showed him. The one Father liked as well. Its name escaped him at the moment because Todd had just walked into his safe house.

Damian burrowed deeper into his plush comforter and drag his pillows into a veritable fort as he maximized the camera feeds he had in Todd’s safe house.

It was time to start.


Jason sighed and ran a hand through his hair, throwing his jacket onto the coat rack as he entered his safe house of the day. It had been a long day of information gathering. He’d been forced to get up at six in the morning in order to go track down this sleeze ball lawyer and shake him down and then he had to follow up on those leads and god he was ready for a nap.

He fully intended on heading straight to bed and sleeping until patrol that night when he caught sight of a note siting on his shitty card table. It took him a moment of blinking and staring to understand what he was seeing and he immediately scanned his surroundings. Someone had been here. Drawing a gun, Jason carefully swept the apartment for any intruders or other threats.

Only when he was mostly sure no one was there did he approach the note. His last name was scribbled on the front of the folded up card in a handwriting that was somewhere between cursive and print. He quirked an eyebrow. Anyone else he knew would’ve called him Jason and anyone he didn’t know would’ve used his full name. There was only one person who only called him by his last name.

“What are you up to, Demon Brat?” Jason breathed as he plucked the card from the table and opened it, reading aloud its contents. “Stiff is my spine, pale is my body, and my heart always open to see? What the hell, kid?” The Hood flipped over the card to see if there was more before reading the riddle over again. “What are you? Taking notes from the Riddler?” He paused before rolling his eyes. “A book.” He turned obligingly to where the short bookcase sat over by the couch.

He moved over to it and kneeled beside it. “Alright, brat. Now how did you rig my books to blow?” He taped his finger to the spines of the well-worn and loved books. He’s read every single one of them. Except… Jason paused when his fingers ran over the set of four books on the bottom shelf. He blinked before yanking the first book out and gaping at the cover. “The Book of Urizen? The original?!?” He would totally admit to his voice cracking as he reverently opened the cover and saw the handwritten words on thick yellowed paper. Jason’s eyes watered a bit as he took in the first hand-drawn picture and poem. “Oh my god. Oh my god. Holy shit.”

He dragged his eyes from the book in his hands to the other three books and nearly had a heart attack when he saw William Blake’s name on all of their spines. He didn’t know there were continuations of The Book of Urizen!!

Jason’s hands were shaking as he sat down right there and started to read one of the rarest and best pieces of literature ever written in the English language.


Dick had been having a normal day. It was his day off from the precinct and he was finally going to clean his apartment and clear out some of his old junk. He’d actually been doing quite well in keeping focused and getting done when there had been a knock at his door, cutting through his cheery and upbeat music.

One polite greeting and a paper shoved in his face later and now he was trying to make these mover people understand that all these boxes were not his and to take them out but it seemed they were deaf to him.

So now his once clean and organized living room (which he’d been proud of damn it) was covered and littered in boxes. “What the hell?” he groaned, scrubbing his face before turning to glower down at the slip of paper that was his receipt of the delivery. “Why am I getting stuff from…Delaware? Have I been to Delaware? I don’t know.” Dick rolled his eyes before going over to one of the boxes and opening it up. Maybe he could get some information out of it and have it all shipped to the correct owners.

He froze the second he opened the box. He knew that stuffed giraffe. With careful hands he lifted the old and slightly worn stuffed giraffe. The man held it in front of his face before turning it, looking at it the left hind leg. He nearly dropped the stuffed animal when he saw the letters “DG” stitched in baby blue and clutched it to his chest. For a single moment he was still and then he was throwing himself into the boxes, unpacking everything until he was surrounded in a mess. Some of this stuff was his. The children’s toys and clothes were all his and the adult clothes and items were his…parents.

He blinked his wet and leaking eyes as he looked down at the aged photo album. It was everything he’d been forced to leave behind the night his parents fell and CPS forced him to only bring a change of clothes and only one stuffed animal. And when he’d bought Haley’s Circus he’d found out that all his parent’s stuff had been sold because they hadn’t been able to bring it along. He’d thought he’d lost everything forever.

But here it was. It was all here.

And in his hand was a note. Everyone deserves something from their parents. Even annoying, disgraces, Son of Bruce Wayne, Son of John and Mary Grayson. It was coupled with a picture of his parents smiling and crying over a newborn with bright blue eyes and curly black hair.


Tim didn’t know what to think of the package that had shown up in his office. It was a sealed wooden box and a hammer. There was also a note that was obviously from Damian, ordering him to take out some frustration on the box. He’d already had the box and hammer scanned three times for any bombs or other threats because he and Damian still weren’t getting along all that great. Yes, it was an improvement, but they still got at each other’s throats. For all Tim knew he’d pissed off the midget recently and this was revenge.

But all his scans weren’t turning up anything. Just a normal hammer and box.

Tim hefted up the tool and considered it before slamming it down on the wooden box. To his satisfaction it splintered easily, revealing a peek inside. Since it didn’t blow up, Tim carefully tapped and beat away the rest of the box before revealing the contents. It was a camera. An old one from before digital cameras became a thing. In fact, it was the same kind of camera that Tim had used when stalking Batman and Robin across the rooftops of Gotham as a boy. Tim smiled as he flipped it to look at the bottom before abruptly dropping the camera to his desk.

He scrambled to make sure he hadn’t damaged it before looking again. “Property of Timothy Jackson Drake”. That was his neat handwriting scratched into the metal of the camera. This was his camera. The same one he’d pawned years ago to help pay bills. Before Bruce had taken him in.

Tim struggled to breath evenly as he peered into the box again and saw pictures littering the bottom of the box. He picked them up with shaking hands and promptly dropped them to cover his face, struggling against tears. He didn’t know these pictures existed. He didn’t know that there had been pictures of his parents together with him as a child. Smiling. Happy. He suddenly remembered how beautiful his mother’s smile had been and how deep his father’s laugh had been.


It wasn’t often that Alfred got mail addressed to him. Yes, he did manage most of the bills and the accounts needed to run Wayne Manor, but those were always in Bruce’s name. Sometimes he would get a letter from family and friends, but not often.

It was even rarer that he got a package addressed to him. And a rather large one at that. There was no metal at all in the package. He’d x-rayed and scanned the packages extensively and only came away with the results that it wasn’t dangerous.

More curious than ever, the older butler undid the twine string and gently lifted the tape from the butcher paper wrapping to reveal a wooden shipping box. He slid the lid from the top to reveal the straw cushioned insides and instantly recognized the tea set before him. “Oh my,” he whispered, nearly dropping the lid. He hadn’t seen this tea set in years. In fact, this tea set didn’t exist anymore. It had been broken and shattered beyond all repair when Alfred had still been a boy.

But here was his mother’s tea set. Every detail was like he remembered. From the flowers to the vines to the smooth glass feel. It was just like his mother’s.

He noticed a card set in the side and pulled it out, blinking his eyes as dry as he could.

Pennyworth. I apologize for not being able to track down your mother’s tea set. You always compare the tea sets we have now to hers and yet I was not able to find such a master piece. I hope you will accept this replica I created for you. It was based off a picture, which was all the evidence I could find of your mother’s tea set.

Alfred had to sit down as he looked at the mentioned picture. He remembered his mother taking this picture. She’d painstakingly arranged her beloved tea set and had sat completely still with her husband and three sons and two daughters for the required amount of time for the picture to develop. His family was slightly blurry in the picture and it made his heart swell to have another picture of his parents and siblings. And there was the tea set in perfect clarity on the table.

The one Damian had crafted and painted by hand.

Alfred sniffed and dabbed his eyes with his handkerchief before hurrying to the kitchen. He had tea he needed to make for himself and the young master.


Bruce didn’t really know what to think of the laptop sitting innocently on his bed. In fact, he’d been glaring at it for the past few minutes before shaking his head. It was probably Tim dropping off evidence again.

He moved over to his bed and sat on the edge, pulling the computer over. After booting it up he knew this wasn’t Tim. Tim always used a password that was changed daily in order to pass on information. This computer took a scan of his face, voice, retina, and fingerprint.

And once he’d passed all the security the computer seemed to boot up and load on its own. He blinked and watched as the screen suddenly blacked out and a message appeared on the screen.

Father. I’ve become aware that you regret not being a part of my childhood before I came to you. That you did not witness ‘my first steps’ or ‘my first words’. Hopefully that will be fixed now.

“Damian?” Bruce wondered, trying to comprehend the message before a video suddenly started playing. It was of a bedroom he didn’t recognize.  After a moment, Talia walked in holding a tiny Damian to her hip. Bruce recognized the words coming from Talia: it was the story of Alexander the Great. Damian was listening with rapt attention and looked very disappointed and saddened when his mother had to leave to take a call.

Bruce leaned forward and watched as his son seemed to take an interest in the chest sitting at the foot of the bed. He walked over (he had to smile at the slight toddle his little body still had) and appeared to pull a cloth from the chest. It was only when the cowl came free that Bruce recognized it as one of his own suits. Any thoughts and wondering about how Talia got one was put aside when Damian giggled (giggled!) and put the cowl over his head, swinging the cape around and adjusting the too-big cowl that dipped and fell over his face. Talia walked in a moment later and Damian smiled at her. “Look, mama. I’m a bat.”

Bruce grinned and chuckled, sliding a hand over his mouth before waiting for the rest of the video to play. He saw Damian stealing cookies from the kitchen, rolling over for the first time, defeating one of his instructors in single combat, reading to his grandfather, saying his first word (“Book?”), his first “Tt” (something he picked up from one of his instructors), braiding his mother’s hair, “pranking” his grandfather and tying bows in his beard (Ra’s opened his eyes as soon as Damian was gone and stroked his grandson’s handy work), and so much more. Before he knew it a whole three hours had passed and Bruce had smiled and fought back tears the entire time.

He closed the laptop with reverence and swore to back up everything on the computer before leaving his room to find his youngest son. He thought it was time to enforce his fatherly right of hugs whenever he wanted.


Damian smirked as he watched his father activate the laptop. Everything had gone according to plan.

Ah. That was the saying. “I love it when a plan comes together,” Damian murmured as he powered down his tablet and then proceeded with the next part of his plan. No doubt Grayson would hunt him down once he realized who was behind all the boxes. He needed to disappear.

Maybe he’d take a little inspiration from that show. A-Team. No one would expect it after all. Damian turned off his lights and stepped into the hall, closing his door. He fully intended to make for the Manor’s extensive attic only to come face to chest with Pennyworth. Damian blinked before looking up at the British man’s face and he had to fight a blush at the open and soft edge to the butler’s normally stern expression. Well, it didn’t look like his plan to escape and hide would come together after all.

Female Prospect

Request from anon for a Jax x Reader based on the following prompts:

#8 - “You’re so fucking hot when you’re mad.”

#33 - “Bite me.” “If you insist.”

Originally posted by georghiaaa

“(Y/N)! Get over here!” You groan and drop the bin bag you’re holding, the voice of the club’s president distracting you from your current assignment. Being a prospect hadn’t been too bad in the beginning, but after six months of constant hell, you were starting to wonder whether you still wanted to be in SAMCRO at all.

“Yo, Priss! Am I talking to myself?” Your blood boils at the nickname, a huff leaving you as you begrudgingly walk, or more so stomp, towards the voice. Once you get to Jax’s room, you knock, plastering a fake smile on your face, and enter the room.

His shit eating grin is enough to make your fists clench; he knows that he gets under your skin and he just loves it. He’s sprawled out on his bed, wearing nothing but a pair of grey sweatpants, your eyes aching to slip down and admire his physique. You would, you’d love to, but he notices everything, and you’d rather not give him yet another reason to act like a twat. “You called, my lord?”

“Can you pass me my shirt?” He gestures to a white tee, sitting just inches away from him. You raise your eyebrow, knowing he could’ve easily have got it himself. However, the look on his face, the anticipation laced upon his skin; he wants you to crack, wants you to give in. Yet, somehow, you manage to pass him the shirt, curtsying after you do so, just for a little sass.

You know you probably shouldn’t have the attitude. Nevertheless, being the only female prospect, and knowing that Jax can take a joke, even if he acts like a prick 99% of the time, you know you can get away with it.

“Thanks, priss. Have you finished cleaning yet? That party last night was pretty wild, I’m sure it’ll be a challenge for you.” He stands up and slides the shirt over his head, part of you thankful that the distraction is gone, the other part slightly disappointed.

“I’m sure it was.” You say sarcastically, rolling your eyes. All he does is chuckle in response as you lean on the door frame, his legs carrying him across the room to grab a clean pair of socks. “I’ve done most of it though, I’ll probably be finished soon.”

You observe him silently as he sits on the edge of his slightly messy bed, putting on his socks and shoes. The gesture is so simple, yet everything he does seems to mesmerise you. Not that you’d ever tell him that, of course. Apart from the obvious fact that he is fucking hot, everything else about him is pretty shit.

“Good girl, at least you women are useful for something.” Just like that, the attraction is gone. It seems to you that every time he opens his mouth, he pisses you off, whether it’s on purpose or he’s just a jerk 24/7.

“Bite me.” You snarl, crossing your arms and standing up straight, the hairs on your back standing up, like an animal ready to fight. A deep laugh leaves him, his tongue slipping over his bottom lip cockily as he sways over to you.

He’s a little taller than you, his eyes looking down at you as he stops right in front of your frame. The smell of soap and mens deodorant whiffs up your nose, the slight tinge of cigarette smoke mixed in with it. You stiffen up as he leans down next to your ear, his warm breath fanning on your neck.

“If you insist.” He whispers, nipping playfully at your neck. Your lids drop shut involuntarily, his lips placing a soft, open mouthed kiss on your skin before pulling away. You open your eyes, the smug smirk on his face letting you know you’d reacted just how he wanted.

Scoffing, you shove him, his body stumbling back a little before he catches himself, still smirking. You step back closer to him, standing as tall as you can, trying to prove you’re not affected by his presence.

“Stay away from me, Jax.” What is supposed to be a warning, comes out unconvincing, your voice slightly shaky from his actions moments before. He hums, that panty dropping smile on his face, his eyes looking you up and down, sizing you up.

“Mhm, you’re fucking hot when you’re mad.“ His voice is husky, his words knocking you breathless as you’re completely caught off guard, your body unable to pull together a response. You just stare into his pupils, caught in his web as you find your face drifting closer to his, like a magnetic force is pulling you together. You can feel his breath on your face, his soft, inviting lips just hovering above yours-

A bang from outside interrupts you both, and you’re not sure whether you’re thankful or pissed off. Jax seems as put out as you feel, a layer of annoyance covering his face before its covered with that all knowing smile again.

You groan, frustrated, before spinning on your heel and storming out of the room, feeling hot, unsatisfied, but mostly confused.

A/N - Thanks for the request! Hope you liked :)

taigia  asked:

Howdy Season, Rayfe from AO3 again and I got a funny one today. “Ignoring everything happening in this room, I think we should focus on putting out the fire.” The boys(Nino, Adrien, and Nath) are doing a triple date with their respective better halves(Alya, Marinette, and Chloe) but someone gets the bright idea that making the food themselves for the ladies would be extra sweet and romantic. Chaos ensues.

“Ignoring everything happening in this room, I think we should focus on putting out the fire,” Nathaniel said nervously, setting down his grocery bags. “I’m guessing Adrien tried to cook?”

“It wasn’t my fault!” Adrien swatted at the flaming pot with a limp rag. “I was just boiling oil, I swear!” The fire licked at the rag, instantly igniting it and Adrien dropped it with a yelp. Nino quickly stomped the flaming rag out before it could do anymore damage.

“Boiling oil?! Do you mean water?”

“Nope, he meant oil.” Nino held up his phone. “Okay, hang on, this article says to smother the flames, put the lid on the pot–”

Adrien grabbed a lid and dropped it on the pot, quickly pulling his hand back with another yelp.

“But be sure to use an oven mitt to prevent injury,” Nino continued.

Adrien glared at him, holding his hand to his chest. 

“Ah, geez, it’s so smokey in here now.” Nathaniel moved to the living room window and pushed it up, a freezing gust flowing into the apartment. “We’ll just leave it open a minute until the smoke clears out.” He rubbed his arms and moved back to the grocery bags. “We’re running so behind. The girls are going to be here any minute.”

“I hope they’re in the mood for pizza,” Nino muttered. “How’s your hand, dude?”

Adrien turned over his palm to show angry red skin. “Not great.”

“We can do this. I have faith in us.” Nathaniel unpacked boxes of noodles and jars of sauce.

“What’s that?” Adrien asked in disgust.

“Spaghetti stuff.”

“That’s not what Marinette uses for spaghetti.”

“Well, Marinette isn’t here, is she?” Nathaniel replied.

“We’re supposed to cook! That’s just noodles and sauce. That’s not cooking.”

“Says the guy who almost burned down our apartment because he thought boiling oil and water were the same thing,” Nathaniel shot back.

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