how to make a bomb in the kitchen of your mom

Knockout


Sliding across the kitchen tiles in her fluffy socks (and narrowly avoiding injury), she wiped down the black countertop with a damp cloth leaving a fresh citrus scent in its wake. Humming along to whatever 80s track that was playing over the sound system in Shawn’s dining area, she cleared the remnants of the cooking equipment from their dinner. Although he had pretty much just moved in, she had already made herself at home and despite his protests she always insisted on cleaning up. Besides, she practically lived there anyway.

And she didn’t mind cleaning up. Being an only child, she had never lived with a teenage guy before and was initially worried that when she visited, the once pristine apartment would look like a bomb had hit it - only going on what she had heard about teenage boys and cleanliness, of course. But she had to admit she was pleasantly surprised at how tidy Shawn kept his place. She supposed it had more to do with pride in having his own place rather than the interest to clean but either way, the condo was kept immaculate. There was rarely a moment she arrived and he wasn’t sweeping the hardwood floors. Something about it getting dusty, he insisted, though she just laughed and told him to put the damn brush away.

The final pot clanged as she placed it back in its respective drawer and she switched the stereo off with a satisfied sigh. Spotless. She furrowed her brow at the sound of the pounding bass continuing down the hall. Shawn had told her he was going to blow off some steam or something along the lines of that. She thought she really ought to start listening to him more rather than ushering him out of the kitchen so she could shamelessly sing without the presence of an actual vocalist. Truth be told, she was as tone deaf as they came.

Padding silently down along the hall that she knew Shawn would probably be feverishly sweeping later, she made out the song to be a Drake track accompanied by the rhythmic sound of punches hitting leather. As she grew closer, the door to his makeshift studio room was slightly ajar and she held onto the doorframe for dear life. Standing there in all his shirtless glory, she silently thanked whatever god that he had his back to her. Stance fixed and posture poised, he threw punch after punch at bag whose chains shook with each hit. He was slick with sweat and all her attention was fixated on the way his back muscles flexed and contracted with each jab. A limp curl hung down on his forehead while the rest at the back of his head were plastered to his neck with perspiration. His grey sweatpants hung low on his waist and she found it hard to concentrate when he let out the occasional low grunt as he threw a punch.

She knew he had taken up boxing as a way to keep fit while he was on tour and couldn’t make it to the gym. The thought of that alone was enough to let her mind run rampant. But experiencing the sight in person? Well, that was a whole other level of explicit thoughts and right now, her mind needed a big ‘Parental Advisory: Explicit Content’ sticker stuck to it.

Biting her lip with too much vigour, she inwardly prayed that her knees wouldn’t give out. The sound of someone collapsing in the doorway was sure to put a pause to his boxing session and she’d be damned if she was the one to stop him. It almost felt wrong watching him. Although he is her boyfriend, she still felt like she was trespassing - watching something that she shouldn’t. Her phone suddenly felt very heavy in her back pocket as the urge to record the unlawful sight in front of her welled up inside her. She wanted to capture the moment, project it on cinema screens, tattoo it on her body. Woah girl, reel it in she thought to herself, chastising her imagination for taking the scenario and running away with it.

“I told you not to box without gloves, didn’t I?” she said as the song ended. Her voice was a surprise to her own ears - it sounded controlled and not at all flustered as she had expected.

Whatever ounce of rationality she had mustered up before was completely and utterly demolished when her Greek God of a boyfriend turned around to face her - all glistening abs and taut pectoral muscles. The way his lips parted slightly as he panted and the innocent look in his eyes was enough to make her crumble into a heap of ashes. The early signs of stubble were visible above his lip and on his chin and although she wasn’t usually a fan of facial hair, she stifled a groan in her throat. What the hell was this kid doing to her? A smug smile spread across his face as he moved across the room to turn off the speaker and she dared her legs to hold her weight as she walked - or rather wobbled - towards him.

“Guess I should’ve listened, huh?” he replied with a sheepish grin as he looked from his knuckles back up to her face. She noticed the cuts dotted along his knuckles and the purplish hue of the bruised already forming underneath. He could only chuckle as she sighed and quirked a brow at him, his own way of saying ‘I’m fine, really’.

“The blood trickling down your hand says otherwise” she countered, taking one of his large hands in her own. Brushing a finger across his lower knuckles that escaped relatively unscathed, she shot him another look. But it was hard to even pretend to be mad at him when he was gazing down at her, his warm brown eyes alight with mischief.

“Sorry, mom” he said apologetically with a boyish grin, earning himself a swat to the chest.

“C'mon, Rocky Balboa” she said sarcastically and took him by the hand carefully. Leading him to the en suite in the master bedroom, she bent down to reach the first aid kit she had taken the liberty of buying. Admittedly, she was hopelessly accident prone and Shawn was clumsy so it was considered an essential as far as she was concerned. One of them was bound to do something potentially self-destructive. Which was laughably ironic considering the fact that she was fit to combust any second.

“Honestly, I’m fine. It’s not that bad” Shawn argued examining his hands. Looking up from her position on the floor and ready to shoot another unamused look at him, he towered above her and she lost all ability to speak. His damp curls hung around his face as he looked down and her and she couldn’t help but let her eyes wander to where the defined V muscle at his waist disappeared beneath the waistline of his sweatpants. His cheeks were as hot and rosy as hers felt. Whatever smart-ass comment that was on the tip of her tongue died. Combustion in 3…2… Clearing her throat and standing up quickly, she placed the first aid kit on the counter before putting a hand on her hip.

“Just- shut up and let me be a good girlfriend, alright?” she said playfully. As she opened the kit, he held up his hands in surrender. Getting to work disinfecting the cuts on his hands, she tried desperately to ignore his proximity to her and the heat radiating off his body. Needless to say she failed miserably. After she had finished wrapping the bandages around his knuckles (like he should have done before he started boxing), he pressed a kiss against her hair and mumbled his thanks against her skin. The height difference meant she was staring at the hollow in his throat that was gleaming with sweat and she couldn’t hold herself back from planting a kiss there. A surprised low groan escaped him and as she wound her arms around his waist, she could feel him pull back slightly.

“I’m all gross and sweaty, baby girl” he said in a low voice, the tenor in it reverberating through her bones.

“Good, that’s the way I like you” she said with a smirk, gazing up at him through her lashes before placing another slow, languid kiss at the base of his neck. He gripped her hips as he sucked in a breath when her teeth grazed his skin.

“Well in that case…” he said and in one swift motion, he had her hoisted up onto the counter and stood between her legs, earning a surprised gasp from her lips. “You won’t mind getting a bit sweaty yourself.”

Her mind raced and she crashed her lips against his. God, he had been gone for so long. Far too long. She had forgotten how much she had missed this. Missed the way his tongue brushing hers caused that feeling to erupt in her stomach every single time. The way he pulled her towards him by her hips, getting her as close to him as humanely possible. The way he groaned against her lips when she wound a hand into his wild hair. Usually he was gentle, slow. Nothing about him was gentle in that moment letting her know that he had missed her just as much as she had missed him. Kissing her way along his jawline to his ear, she kissed his earlobe before speaking with a challenging tone to her voice

“Go on then, baby. Make me sweat.”

anonymous asked:

Dum-E and U start adopting stray robots or technology (like a toaster/Clints game console).

This was cute!! And it isn’t super long, but I hope you like it!


“Stark!” Clint calls, pushing into the kitchen. His pushes his bangs out of his face, still not having cut his hair as what he calls an “Act of Rebellion” after Natasha told him he looked better without them. “You need to get your children in control.”

“Whatever smartass thing Peter said, I stand by it, and whatever Harley stole, I support his endeavors. Also, whatever Riri’s doing, I stand by that too. Listen, Clint, if you wanted a middle-aged mom showdown, you came to the wrong playdate.”

“Okay, not what I meant at all, but… okay. I wasn’t talking about your flesh children.”

“That is probably the most terrifying way to state it,” Tony says, finally looking up from his sadly empty cup of… whatever Natasha put in it. He isn’t sure, but it was brown coloured, so it looked safe. “Are there any children not made of flesh? Or are you late for some cult thing?”

Keep reading

Is It Over Between Us? (Peter Parker imagine)

Is It Over Between Us? (Part 1) (Peter Parker imagine) 

Request: Hellooo, I just went through your blog and loved it❤️ I was wondering if you could do one where the reader is recruited along with Peter for civil war

Pairing: Peter Parker x reader ft. Aunt May, Tony Stark, Clint Barton and Wanda Maximoff

A/N: I tried to make this accurate but I haven’t seen Civil War in a while, so I literally had to look for a scene on YouTube

Also, part 2?

Permanent tag: @peteypxrker ; @the-lynnie-the-pooh 

Originally posted by tomhollandisdaddy

After what happened in New York, Sokovia and Lagos, the entire world was going crazy. People were torn, trying to decide was to do with the superheroes that were involved in those events. Some wanted to control them, but others just wanted to let them be. The last straw was when someone bombed the conference in Vienna, where King T’Chaka was killed.  

But that didn’t concern you at all, since you were not a superhero. Sure, you were an expert in everything that meant martial arts but that wasn’t a super power. It’s not like you were bitten by some radioactive spider like Peter.

Holding hands, you walked from school to his apartment. As you turned in the corner, you saw a very expensive car parked outside the apartment complex.

‘’Woah, look at that car’’ you exclaimed. It was really unusual to see that in Queens, especially in this neighborhood. 

‘’It’s crazy’’ Peter was speechless. You giggled at his expression, and pulled him inside. Stepping into the elevator, which was empty, you pushed him against the wall.

 ‘’You haven’t kissed me all day’’ you pouted, making him chuckle. He leaned in and gave you quick pecks. ‘’No, I want real kisses.’’

 ‘’I’ll give you more when we get to my room, okay?’’ Peter winked at you, and walked out the elevator when the door opened. You followed, smiling at his neighbors in the hallway. ‘’Hey May’’ he greeted her, dropping his backpack near the door.

 ‘’Hey May’’ you greeted as well, taking off your jacket.

 ‘’Hey, how was school today?’’ she asked.

 ‘’It was okay. This crazy car parked outside…’’ Peter began telling her but then he stopped talking and walking. You turned to the living room, and there was a man there. Tony Stark. Peter looked very surprised.

‘’Oh, Mr. Parker’’ he called him.

‘’Um… what are you doing- Hey! Uh, I’m-I’m Peter’’ he stammered, it was obvious he’s nervous. You, on the other hand, didn’t say a word.

‘’Tony’’ he replied. ‘’You’ve been getting my emails, right?’’ he winked at him. It was a lie. 

‘’Y-yeah’’ Peter stammered again. 

‘’You didn’t even tell me about the grant’’ May protested a little. 

‘’Remember you applied?’’ Peter nodded, ‘’I approved, so now we’re in business’’ Tony said, making weird faces so Pete can lie too. 

You were annoyed, very annoyed actually. Trying to be nice, you turned to your boyfriend and smiled. ‘’I forgot I had to run some errands. I’ll talk to you later, okay?’’ you told him quickly, and walked fast towards the door, grabbing your jacket and leaving.

Almost twenty minutes later, you arrived at your house and noticed Peter was blowing up your phone. Calling you, facetiming you, texting you. Heck, he was even sending you dm’s on Twitter. Leaving your phone in the kitchen counter, you headed to your room and plopped down on your bed. 

And not even five minutes later, there was heavy knocking on your window. Turning your head, there was Peter. ‘’Go home, Pete’’ you told him, and he kept on knocking. Getting up, you unlocked the window and he jumped in.

‘’Why are you ignoring me?’’ He asked, clearly confused. You scoffed.

‘’What did he want?’’

‘’Mr. Stark? He recruited us. You and me!’’ He exclaimed.

‘’We? Excuse me?’’ you snapped at him, causing him to frown. 

‘’Y/N, please. This is really important-‘’

‘’No, that’s enough. You go, have fun, do whatever he wants you to do. I am not Stark material.’’ 

You looked at each other. Peter’s expression showed sadness, but yours showed anger. Kissing your forehead and left. 

Later that night, you heard knocking on the door but didn’t pay any attention to it. Until your mom called you. 

Walking towards the front door, you saw a man and a woman.

‘’Sweetie, Clint and Wanda came to see you’’ your mom clearly had no idea who they were, you were sure of that. ‘’Please come in. I’ll give you some privacy’’ she smiled and walked to her room. You sighed, your mother really didn’t care at all about some strangers coming inside the house.

Hearing her door close, you looked at them. ‘’What do you want?’’ 

‘’I assume you know who we are’’ Clint told you and you nodded. ‘’We’re here to talk to you about something extremely important.’’

‘’I really don’t want to be a part of your problems’’ you pointed out, and Wanda grabbed your hand. 

‘’Please, just listen to us. Let us explain. if at the end you don’t agree, we will leave’’ she practically begged. You looked at them, and against your better judgement, agreed to listen.

-

After a few hours of Wanda and Clint basically explaining everything to you, you agreed to join them.

And now you were in Berlin, Germany. At the airport.

Clint and Wanda started running, and you followed them. You were trailing being Captain America, Bucky, Falcon and Ant Man. A ray of yellow stopped you mid-way. Looking up, you saw Vision in the air. You made your way towards the front, and saw Stark with his group. And Peter. 

Does that mean it was over between you two?

Originally posted by bubblyholland

Part 2 ; Part 3 

Every Other Weekend pt. 4

Prompt: After five years of marriage and two kids, you and Bucky decide you can’t make it work anymore.

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word Count: 1,725

Warnings: divorce, angst, cheating

A/N: going to have to close tags for this one. i’m so sorry. but i’m so glad you all enjoy it so much! and i hope you enjoy this part. really happy with it (:

Tagged: @defendors @thorne93 @winterboobaer @marvelfandom-stuff @all-around-geek @cchrriissuuu@katexbishopx @justreadingfics @frolicsomefawkes@dasani-saraai @awwtommo @aenna-4@courtneychicken @lorenaheartsyou@goldwanderer @irepeldirt @sebastianstantrash @tardisin221bst @ok-ladies-lets-get-in-formation @redroomproperty @elegantnightmareshiro@stomachfilledwithbutterflies @demongodess @buckyb-avengers @redlipstickandplaid @panda-reads-stuff @basse53 @chipilerendi @thewinterdorito @jenn48041

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

——

Originally posted by sebjpeg

“Just sign the damn papers!” Bucky raised his voice at you, angrily running a hand through his hair.

“I’ll get to it. I have a lot to do.” You sighed, not facing him.

“That’s the last thing you have to do.” He spoke with a tense jaw.

“I can’t sign them. That means it’s over.”

“It is over.” Bucky’s hand ran over his face. “Just get it done, please. I don’t want to make this more messy than it is already.”  

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Lost Brother’s Found: Part 2

AN: In celebration of my job, prepare for an onslought of series updates that I’ve been hoarding! Here, have some back story!

Part 1


    Your brother and Artemis had been a very realistic couple. They had been honest with each other, fought when needed, and made decisions as a team. They had been partners,, right up until your brother had vanished.

    Artemis had stayed in bed for weeks after. She’d returned to the team as Tigress, more dangerous than ever. She’d risked her life over nothing. She’d been spiraling out of control, when she’d found out news that had changed her life. She was pregnant, and it was Wally’s.

    You’d made a decision upon hearing the news. You decided to leave the team, and help Artemis raise your niece or nephew. Artemis had welcomed your help. She was good with children, but between trying to finish school, and taking care of a newborn, she knew she’d need help. So you’d moved in with her, and provided the help your brother would have given if he’d still been alive.

    The day your nephew had been born was one of the best days of your life. Against all the odds, he’d been born with red hair and his mother’s eyes. He reminded you so much of Wally. And for the first time, in a long time you saw Artemis happy. She named Ryan.

    You’d watched as she threw herself into motherhood. The two of you had based your school schedules around each other so that someone was always with Ryan. It was exhausting work, but it was worth it. You’d rarely thought of the team, or the life you had left behind.

    It hadn’t been the same anyways. Dick had vanished, your brother was dead, Zee and Rocket were members of the League, Connor and M’Gann were training the new recruits, Roy had teamed up with Jade, and Kaldur had returned to his post as team leader. You were happy with your new life. Tired, but happy.

    So, when you got the emergency call from Kaldur you’re tempted to not answer. But a niggling feeling tells you to pick up. You’re grateful that you do. What Kaldur has to say is enough to have you packing.

    “I should go.”

    You stare at your best friend, the mother of your nephew, the woman who is practically your sister, “That’s your choice. We both know my parents would love to have him for a few days. Or there’s your mother … or your sister”

    You see the confliction in her eyes. She’d never left Ryan alone for longer than a few hours. She was a protective mother, and after everything she’d been through you couldn’t blame her.

    The resolution in her eyes, come moments later. She shifts the eight month old into your arms, and you cuddle him while she packs. You drop him off with your ecstatic parents, and the two of you head out. Connor, M’Gann, Kaldur, and Roy are waiting for you. It’s nostalgic, the original team back together … for the most part.

    As you board the bio ship, and head for your destination, Kaldur gives you the rundown. Dick had stuck to Bludhaven for the past year, working alone. Several weeks ago, an emergency transmission had come in, and Dick had vanished. Batman had been desperate enough to ask for the team’s help. Further investigation had revealed Deathstroke had taken the original boy wonder.  

    What had followed was a two week long mission, that involved extensive planning. You’d rescued a beaten and battered Dick, and taken him back to the tower. He’d been tortured, the evidence was there. The cuts, bruises, broken bones, and internal bleeding were extensive.

    But Dick never said a word. He was lost, you could see it. You should have seen it sooner. Dick hadn’t reached out to anyone since leaving the team. He hadn’t responded to news of Artemis’ pregnancy, nothing. He was hurting, and angry, and you could understand it.

    Despite being Wally’s twin, you’d never been as close to Dick as Wally had. And when he had vanished, you’d clung to Artemis and then your nephew. You’d learned to move on, but Dick was stuck.

    After several days of no talking, you do the only thing you can. You haul his ass out of bed and to your apartment. The minute you step in, you’re surrounded by the smell of food, and laughter. You can hear Artemis’ mom talking to Ryan.

    You drag Dick inside, and watch his eyes go wide at the sight of your nephew. You cross your arms and ask, “So you were deleting my emails without reading them?”

    He doesn’t say anything, as you lead him to the couch. Artemis’ mother gives you Ryan with a smile, and you place him in Dick’s arms. The tears that come, assure you that the healing can begin.

    Dick’s presence in your lives becomes something of a constant after that. You find out very quickly that Dick Grayson is amazing with babies. His healing time, physically and mentally, gives you and Artemis a bit more wiggle room with classes and free time.

    Artemis loads up, and you decide to spend a bit more time at home. You quickly understand why Dick had been Wally’s best friend. He’s kind, smart, and strong. And when he ends up kissing you in the kitchen while cooking dinner, you decide he has the softest lips ever, and you want to kiss them for eternity.

    You’re a team, a very odd, parenting team. After three years you determine that your normal is everyone else’s weird. You’re okay with that. Dick joined the police force, you and Artemis graduate, and your nephew turns three. You’ve nearly forgotten your former life when all three of you are called in.

    What Kaldur tells you, makes your blood boil. The Light had finally returned, and this time they’d brought reinforcements. Mainly of the Mongul kind. That’s when Kaldur drops the major bomb. A trip to Apokolips had revealed the origin of the technology that had nearly destroyed the Earth four years ago, and furthermore how it hadn’t killed your brother.

    Instead he’d been sent to another Earth. It had taken three months of building, and intense training on your end to build up your speed again. Eventually though, you’d become fast enough to open a portal.

    Your mission was simple, go to Earth 2, find Wally, open a boom tube that would allow you to travel back, bring him with you, defeat the light. Now, here you were, on Earth 2 with your brother, watching as he laid eyes on the woman he had loved since childhood, and the son he never knew.

    You hear the tears in his voice as he chokes out her name, “Artemis.”

    The tears in her eyes are clear, and a second later she’s running towards him. Wally beats her to it, sweeping her up into his arms and pulling her close. You smile as he peppers her face with kisses, and tears well in your eyes as Ryan reaches up and grabs his father’s nose.

    Motioning with your head to the rest of the team, you turn to face this world’s League and say, “Can we give them a few minutes?”

    The nods are quick, and as one group you move out of the chamber, letting the family reunite.

Lying, Cheating, & (Almost) Death.

Requested by five anons

Summary: Batmom(Reader) and Bruce fight, after Batmom storms out they gets kidnapped by a villain.

Warning(s): Cheating, Abuse, Kidnapping, ANGST

Out of all ways to find out, you find out through Superman?! Clark of course felt he had to tell you and you couldn’t tell if that was good or bad. He came to you, under the guise of an interview, but after the “interview” finished, he sighed heavily, making you raise an eyebrow in confusion. You didn’t think it went that badly. And then the bomb dropped.

Blue eyes looked up at you with sadness as he spoke, “(Y/N)…” He paused, “I was in Gotham last night… You need to know, I saw Bruce with Catwoman …”

Your gut dropped, but your mind begged to stay naïve. “She was plotting to rob the museum, so naturally, yes.”

“No,” He shook his head, “He was with her. Actively with her. Extremely active.”

“Okay, Clark, I get it,” You snapped at him unintentionally, anger boiling up, “I… I have to go…” You trailed off, standing up and walking swiftly out.

The front door to the mansion swung open fast and hard, despite it’s weight as you set your destination straight for the batcave. That’s where you found yourself now, standing in front the brooding figure tinkering with the batbelt. Hearing your footsteps he looked up, a slight smile seeing you were home before it diminished at your expression.

“What’s wrong?” He questioned sternly, afraid something happened that would require his alter ego.

“I talked with Clark today,” Bruce cocked an eyebrow at you before you continued, “So you and Selina are a thing now?” The question was sarcastic and debatably rhetorical, it was obvious to Bruce that you already knew.

“You weren’t supposed to find out,” He stated simply with a sigh, as if he was planning a surprise party instead of cheating on you.

You scoffed and looked at him like he was a joke. “So you did get with her?”

“Yes,” The plain answer angered you even more, “I didn’t mean to…”

“I know first hand how hard it is to get you out of those pants, and you want me to believe you screwing your target on a rooftop was an ‘accident’?”

Bruce shook his head and stood straight, his voice gruff, “I didn’t mean for it to continue as long as it did.”

Your mouth hung open while he admitted that it wasn’t just a one time fling. Shaking your head back at him in disbelief, you turned around and headed for the stairs, not allowing yourself to say anything else to him.

Bruce was the most distraught you’d ever seen when he forced himself to admit to you he slept with Talia. The guilt and regret on his face was obvious then, he gave into his impulses, let his guard down, and he hated it. You couldn’t tell if he was more upset over letting himself get drugged or sleeping with her, but the remorse was there and it pained you to see him tear himself up over it.

This time was so much different. He consciously decided to go through with sleeping with Selina multiple times and now he didn’t show the slightest look of guilt. You couldn’t stay there, couldn’t sleep in that bed next to him knowing that he was intimate with you all while he was putting on his suit, making you worry, making the boys pick up his slack, when in actuality he was getting his rocks off.

In no time you had what you needed, your favorite clothes, your most beloved possessions, and your toothbrush of course. With your head high you rolled the suitcase behind you, the backpack was slung over your shoulder. Your cheeks were bright red with rage still, not having been able to calm yourself.

As you were approaching the entrance to the kitchen when Dick whizzed out before slamming on his breaks in front of you. He glanced at the suitcase and looked at you puzzled. “Mom, where ya going?”

You squinted your eyes and leaned up towards him, pointing a finger at him. “Did you know Bruce was sleeping with Selina?!”

Dick’s eyes went wide before he looked towards the ground, giving you your answer. You shook your head, just as you did to Bruce, before stepping around him and continuing towards the garage. The car you took was your own, registered in your name so you would have no ties to Bruce.

In the week that you had been gone, you found a cute apartment, out of the press’s eyes thankfully. It was odd, of course, you had grown so accustomed to living in practically a castle. That, and the apartment was so quiet. Though only three out of your six legally-adopted kids lived with you, there was always something going on and you slightly missed the noise.

No one came to see you. Not one of your children, adopted or metaphorical, visited you in that time and that, you were sure, was the absolute worst part. Work made you glad you refuted Bruce’s offer for you to work at WE with him and it got your mind off things quite a bit. Today was like all the others at work - busy, slightly stressful, and no one cared about your personal life.

When lunch time rolled around you sighed in relief as you took your break. The walk to your car was typical, same thing, different day, your shoes making slight noise against the pavement. Just as you were reaching your car, arms wrapped around your torso, a hand digging into your scalp to grab your hair. You were about to turn around or fight back when the cool metal of a gun pressed against your temple.

“Don’t move and we’ll make this niceee and eassy, alright baby?” The voice was deep, gruff, and had a thick Jersey accent.

The man ran the gun down your face almost teasingly, playing into their game you froze up, not moving a muscle, trying to figure out what they were getting at. Money? Newspaper Headline? It didn’t matter, before you could persuade him to let you go, his arm tightened around your neck. Suddenly the world went black as your perpetrator pistol whipped you, knocking you unconscious.

A groan slipped from your lips as you fought to regain consciousness. Your eyes opened and closed quickly, the light blinding you immediately. Trying to move proved fruitless and when you were finally able to open your eyes you saw that your arms were secured to the arms of a medical chair. You struggled, testing the restraints before a laugh caused your head to snap up, making you squint while your eyes still adjusted and focused.

“So, you’re the one Mr. Suave and Rich picked? Where’d he get you from? The trash of the circus show?” The female sat across from you in a chair that looked like a throne, dressed in a deep orange dress.

Finally, your eyes adjusted, forcing you to notice the rest of the orange hues surrounding you.She must really like orange. Your eyes scanned the room and you noticed it was an old dinner theatre of some sort. The big room was dusty, run-down, and you knew that you’d be sneezing in no time. Silently you scoffed to yourself, here you were, kidnapped, tied to a medical chair of all things, no one knew where you were, and you were worried about your damn allergies.

That’s when it hit you - no one knew where you were. Bruce or the kids weren’t going to find you missing. Work might call the police after a month, but then yet, they’ll just think you jetted off with Bruce again. Your landlord will call after three months, but only because you haven’t paid rent and by then, you’ll be dead. All you could do was pray that one of the kids would find your apartment in order to talk to you, finding you missing.

The woman’s voice pulled you from your thoughts, “What makes you soo special, huh?” Her face pulled into a grin as she stood up and sauntered over to in front of you.

“How long have I been here?” You retorted gently, genuinely curious and needed her to answer at least that question of yours.

The grin widened and she twirled a gun around in her hands. “Oh a couple weeks, to tell the truth we didn’t think you were gonna wake up. I got a little disappointed.”

“What do you want?” You growled lowly, once again pulling on your restraints.

She leaned over you, her hands resting on the arm of the chair you were tied to. “I want you out of my way.” She pulled back, standing tall before raising her hand, slapping you, and letting out a pleasured laugh.

Great, she was one of the ones that got off on pain. “Out of the way of what?”

“My husband and I,” She spat the words out at you as if you were supposed to have recognized her.

“Who’s… Who’s your husband?” You questioned further, trying to talk her to calm her down.

But it didn’t work, your question sent her off the deep end instead. She scoffed at you and grabbed your chin roughly in her hand, forcing your head to look to your left. There in the distance was a shrine, in simple terms, focusing solely on your husband. Her heels clicked against the floor as she pushed the chair you were in over closer to the candle lit memorial. Bruce’s face was plastered all over the wall, some pictures had you in them, but you were x’d out rather violently and replaced with a picture of the woman who held you captive.

Why couldn’t criminals in Gotham just be normal for once?

“Isn’t he gorgeous?” She asked with affection, stroking the cheek of the Bruce bust in the center of the shrine.

Raising an eyebrow, you looked at her quizzically, was she serious? Of course you thought he was good looking, you were the one banging him after all. But you weren’t the only one, remembering his infidelity your eyes narrowed. “You can have him.”

Her head whipped around to look at you. “Have him? Have him? You’re giving up a God just like that?” She scoffed and laughed manically, “You’re even more of a coward than I thought. How dare you waste his time?!”

With that, she began to punch you, swinging at you relentlessly, each of her fists meeting your skin over and over again. At first, her aim was your abdomen but as her initial rage subsided and her sadistic nature came out, she aimed for your face. After she was finished punching you she stood up, a smile on her face again. She said nothing as she reached for the gun she had set down and aimed it at you.

Your heart rate sped up, hoping she’d just pull the trigger and not let you think of all the things you regretted in your life, but she didn’t. Instead, she lowered the gun and shot your thigh. The restraints kept you from flinching but the pain made you cry out and struggle against the ropes. The burning in your thigh spread throughout your entire leg and when you looked down, your lap was already soaked in blood.

Before you could cuss her out, or do anything really, you were freed of the restraints and being hauled off to the basement. The lights were horribly fluorescent and it reeked of mildew. Her henchmen tossed you into a room and closed the thick, steel door. You tried desperately to get up, but your leg wound prohibited you from doing so as it continued to bleed out. Ripping off a part of your shirt you pressed it to the bullet hole, trying to stop the bleeding.

It didn’t take long for you to realize the blood wasn’t clotting and as you buried your face in your blood stained hands, you couldn’t hold the tears back any longer. Sobbing hard you thought of everything you loved in life, your job, your children - just the though of them made you sob harder.You watched them try and recover from, in most cases, their own parents’ deaths, their siblings’ deaths, and Bruce’s as well, you didn’t want to make them try to cope with yours.

Even Bruce crossed your mind, regardless of what he did you loved him, for what he did, for what he stood for, for who he really was. As your consciousness began to fade and the tears just wouldn’t come anymore, you mumbled a soft, “I forgive you,” to wherever Bruce may have bee at the moment before you let your eyes permanently close…


“(Y/N)?!” Hands gripped at your shoulders, trying to shake you awake and you only groaned in response.

Batman sighed and closed his eyes in relief for a moment. When he opened them back up he tried not to let your mangled, blood soaked, bruise covered body get to him. Of course he’s seen worse in his line of duty but seeing it on you - it just wasn’t supposed to happen. Gingerly he lifted your form into his own, stepping past the tied up bodies on his way to the car.

When you woke up it was another bright light shining in your face, but this time ten familiar faces surrounded you, eyes wide as they watched you wake up. Immediately smiles spread across each and every one, some small, some ear to ear, some even with tears in their eyes. Bruce was closest to you, sitting at your right side, holding your hand. Gently you rolled your head to look at him, his eyes filled with that same sorrow and guilt when he confessed about Talia.

Why is it that it always took some near-death or actual death experience for him to regret something or admit he messed up?

“How long was I out?” To tell the truth you were quite sick of having to ask that question but nonetheless, you needed to know and figured it’d be a good place to start talking to him while the rest of the family got the hint and slowly filed out of the room.

“About a half hour.” Simple. To the point. As usual. But this time, even if just slightly, his voice faltered and you knew, he did feel guilty.

“I forgive you,” You stated frankly, knowing the both of you would have to work past it, much, much more, but you couldn’t stand him going out and fighting with a preoccupied mind.

“You shouldn’t.” Bruce looked to the floor, his hands still grabbed completely around yours.

“I know.” A smug grin spread across your face before immense pain set in and you dropped the grin, “Ow.”

dear evan hansen headcannons

EVAN:
- bisexual

- 5'10

- he tends to do things like tap his pencil or his foot or he plays with erasers or some shit he’s just always doing something with his hands

- has those erasers with removable pieces because “THEY’RE CUTE CONNOR I LOVE THEM”

- freckles. more freckles after a day in the sun. freckles everywhere.

- has a bonsai tree

- DRIVES LIKE A GRANDMA

- actually really fit because of his outdoor activities??

- lifted connir off of the ground like he was a feather and everyone was Shocked

- “THAT WAS THE FIRST TIME SOMEONE EVER LIFTED ME” “oh mY GOD CONNOR”

- LOVES TO BAKE BUt kind of sucks at it

- afraid of big dogs. and fluffy dogs. and dogs with big eyes and long tails and legs and just dogs. he’s scared of dogs.

- cheesy romantic. reads romance books and watches romantic movies and just. my boy.

- when he’s feeling down he goes to connor because they can trust each other because of the one thing they have in common - the suicide attempts.

- dyed a streak of his hair blue for halloween one time and made connor cry

- CONFIDENT DRUNK

- got high once and laughed for seven minutes straight before passing out

- has a burn scar on his back from when jared set him on fire by accident

- learns to do hair because he likes touching connors hair

- he maybe likes connors dog a little bit

- “i may seem collected on the outside but on the inside i am screaming 24/7.”


CONNOR:
- borderline personality disorder !!!!

- sees a therapist and takes medication

- he honestly went through ten therapists before deciding to go with evan to his therapist

- has a pitbull named cheese that his mom got him to help calm him down when he snaps

- still a dick every now and then but he’s Trying

- 6'0"

- panseuxal

- is literally. always napping. he sleeps on the ground. on his desk. on evan. anywhere.

- paints his nails when he’s high with 100% accuracy but fails when he’s sober

- “ZOE HOW DO YOU USE EYELINER”

- LOVES sweets. needs them. craves them.

- literally cries over evan’s freckles like what

- sarcastic as all hell

- he and jared’s friendship is just a race to see who can roast the other faster

- draws on himself constantly until he has literal sleeves of designs on his arms. then he moves to drawing on his friends.

- alana buys him a sketchbook when she wakes up with white sharpie printed on her face

- he draws the most AMAZING scenery and designs

- probably wants to be a tattoo artiat

- always records himself when he’s high

- new bruises and cuts every day - he bumps into things a lot when he’s high

- he gets his first piercing from a dude in an alley. it’s a septum piercing. everyone screams when they see it.

- hates pepe

- comments on how gay he is every day.

- still has bad days and when he does he locks himself in his room and calls evan

- evan’s talk of trees got him into plants. owns seven cactuses, a pot full of forget-me-nots and three succulents with names and backstories.

- “i will shove my foot so far up your ass you’ll be tasting leather and shit for the rest of your pathetic life you wrinkly numbnut”


ZOE:
- still having trouble forgiving her brother for all the years of mental abuse

- 5'10

- lesbian af

- makeup that could literally kill a god

- likes to wear crops tops and dresses

- wears sweatpants to school ONCE and is reminded of it every day for the rest of her life

- literally a huge photography nerd

- has EVERY PICTURE SHES EVER TAKEN hanging on her wall. even that ugly ass one of connor screaming over titanic when they were thirteen.

- probably does yoga

- dreams of going to paris. can literally speak in french and owns literally everything with the eiffel tower on it.

- replies to everything in meme language. her parents are worried for her. connor wants to die again.

- has a poem alana wrote to her on her wall next to her bed

- so many pictures of alana

- HANGED A PEPE PICTURE IN THE SHOWER ONCE THAT MADE CONNOR SCREAM WHEN HE SAW IT

- likes to draw constellations with evan’s freckles on his face

- literally has not combed her hair since fourth grade?? its just naturally perfect???

- “im gayer than you connor”

- SWEARS LIKE A SAILOR WHEN SHE BUMPS INTO SOMETHING

- so much emoji’s

- steals all of alana’s hoodies


ALANA:
- hates not having anything to do so much

- 5'6"

- in every school club tbh

- also a lesbian

- a journalist/writer

- literally stays up until 2 am every day and comes to school looking like a goddess

- GOD IS SHE SMART

- she probably tutors everyone

- “what’s the answer to this problem alana” “hella”

- BIG HAPPY SMILES

- can kill you in two seconds with The Look

- READS SEVEN BOOKS A DAY

- probably listens to asmr

- totally has tumblr

- LITERALLY SHINES BRIGHTER THAN THE SUN

- feminist. not a feminazi, will make jokes about women being in the kitchen with jared but will stab you if you are genuinely against women’s rights

- attempts to do yoga with zoe once. she breaks her nose.

- SHE’S A MESS. HER WORK STATION IS JUST FULL OF CRUMPLED PAPERS AND PENS AND COFFEE MUGS.

- likes to do diys.

- “ZOE I DID A DIY FACE MASK AND I CANT GET IT OFF”

- once punched a man for a klondike bar

- “sorry im two hours late feminism called”


JARED:
- panromantic asexual!!!!!

- 5'4"

- a gaming youtuber

- actually somehow has like 1,000 followers???

- everyone has been in his videos at least once

- EATS A BATH BOMB ON CAMERA

- every birthday connor buys him a bath bomb and screams “CRONCH” in his face

- enjoys really cringey memes

- has a german shepard named Sir Titlicker

- “EVAN SIR TITLICKER WILL NOT EAT YOU”

- once tripped on a bug

- he’s actually self conscious and hides behind self deprecating jokes

- threw a dreidel at the menorah once when he was little and is still not allowed near the menorah

- soft chub legs

- much Sarcasm

- literally is so sarcastic with connor??? they like each other but sometimes even evan wonders if they actually like each other or not

- probably enjoys nickelback

- HUGE SUBWAY FAN. WOULD SHOVE SUBWAY UP HIS ASS FOR FREE.

- likes star wars probably

- wore a shirt that said “im a gamer” once

- “burn that shirt now” “EVAN WHAT THE FUCK”

- actually cried when he played slenderman with Evan

- “are you ok” “IS HE GONE EVAN IS HE GONE” “yes” /looks up and sees slenderman appear “WHDBANFBJDJSBSDH” /evan is wheezing

- makes dirty jokes 24/7 but literally blushes for 9 years if you make a dirty joke towards him

- actually Fragile

- in a cult probably

- probably has a runescape series on his YouTube channel

- has set evan on fire before

- he tries to be a good friend he really dies but he fails sometimes

- “are you a nail baby because ill hammer you into the wall tonight ;)"

“I can’t believe Dean and Cas made out.”

Cas shrunk back from walking into the library at the sound of Sam ’s voice – for very good reasons.

He heard the unconvinced noise Mary made as she shrugged before replying. “It broke the spell and saved the town – it’s not hard to believe they’d do it… For the greater good.”

Sam still sounded agitated although Cas agreed with Mary – and he should know better than them about it. “No, Mom, we were all in the room. All the ritual asked for was a kiss… I mean what if all we needed to do was something like me giving you a peck on the cheek? It was a vaguely phrased spell.”

“I suppose so…”

Sam had gone into full ranting mode – “And – even if it had to be a kiss on the mouth – Cas could have kissed any of us. There were options. He could have kissed you, or, well, he was standing right next to me when Dean read the thing out, and a lot of people were going to die really soon. I’d take one for the team.”

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Opposite Dog Hybrid!Mingyu

Requested by anon: Helooo Mom™ can I have a fluffy Hybrid! Mingyu Or Jeonghan Au? 😊 thank you 💘💖✨💫🌈💘💝💫✨💗💖 

aaa here it is my love emoji anon!!!! i tried to make it super fluffy i think im gonna die from this sweetness!!! 

warnings: fluff that makes u wanna dIE AND MURDER MINGYU BUT ALSO SQUISH HIS FACE

  • You recently moved in your new apartment for the first time ever since graduating college
  • You were able to pick up some temporary jobs that would barely be enough to make a living but hey you wanted the freedom and you wanted to prove yourself to your parents
  • As you were carrying your boxes to the third floor, you were about to colLAPSE BC SO MANY STAIRS YOU WISH YOU DID BETTER IN PE
  • After you finally finished carrying all of your stuff you thought maybe i should show some hospitality and introduce myself to the neighbors!!
  • But you’re also a cat hybrid and you’re like um well do i really have to tho i’d rather just sLEEP MY ARMS ARE GONNA FALL OFF
  • But you’re determined to do something adult!!! You are now living alone and have jobs and bills to pay!!!!
  • So you gathered all of your willpower and got out some of your homemade bomb af cookies before heading to your next door neighbor
  • You were like ok chill all you’re doing is saying your name and giving them some cookies nO bIgGiE!!!

Keep reading

Ten

There are ten beer bottles sitting on his kitchen counter.

All of them are empty, lined up in rows of three with the odd man out lying on its side. He spins this one around, the label blurring as he leans his hip against the granite countertop.

The countertop they picked out together, not so long ago. Dark grey, modern and stylish, just like she wanted.

Around and around the green bottle spins until his eyes can’t take it anymore. He throws the bottle in the garbage can instead of the recycle bin. Partly because he’s almost a full case of beer deep and wasn’t really paying attention but also because she always insisted that they recycle as much as they could.

“It’s better for the environment,” he muses out loud to himself, his words slurring as he starts chucking the remaining beer bottles into the garbage, one by one.

She’s not here to yell at him anyways, so why the fuck should he care.

Nine

There are voicemails waiting for him when he wakes up the next morning.

“Bellamy, it’s your sister. What in the hell are you doing not answering your phone for days? Call me back!!”

“Bell? It’s Jasper. Just wanted to check up on you, man. Let me know how you’re doing.”

“Yo, It’s Murphy. Fuck that girl, let’s get drunk.”

“Hey, it’s Monty. I’m sure everyone is calling you but…we’re worried about you. Please let someone know if you’re okay.”

“Bell, honey? It’s mom. Please call me when you get this, your sister and I are worried about you. Love you.”

“Blake, it’s Miller. Octavia is freaking out man, hasn’t stopped calling me since yesterday. I know you’re hurting but…just please call someone back. Later.”

“Mr. Blake, it’s Professor Stanley. I just wanted to let you know that I received your email and am sorry to hear you won’t be able to speak in my class this week. Hope we can schedule something again soon.”

“God damn it, Bellamy Blake! If you don’t call me back, I’m going to tell mom about all the stupid shit you did in high school. And we both know you don’t want that hellfire to rain down upon you. Call. Me. Back!”

“Hey….Bell. It’s me. Look, I know we said we weren’t going to call each other but…I just wanted to say that I’m sorry for the way that we ended things. I know it was for the best but…I just…please don’t pull away from everyone. They all love you so much. And so do I. I’m sorry.”

He deletes all of them but the last one, sets his phone on that fucking grey countertop and hits the speaker button.

“….They all love you so much. And so do I.”

Her voice is broken but so is his heart so he listens to it a few more times until he feels like breaking his phone.

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Family — Wonho AU | Part Five

A/N: omg this part is so bad and I’m so sorry to make you all read this with your own two eyes, please forgive me OTL. Also, I apologize for making you all wait so long for this one


parts: prologue | one | two | three | four | six | seven

length: 2290 words


You release a heavy sigh as you stare up at the ceiling. The sounds of gunshots fill the room and soon Changkyun is groaning in frustration as Minhyuk laughs happily.

“Hyung, we’re on the same team!” the younger shouts. Minhyuk doesn’t reply but by the sounds of things exploding you know he’s still messing around.

“Y/N, your feet are next to his head, can you kick him?” Changkyun asks you over his shoulder.

You lazily whack the top of your foot against the back of Minhyuk’s head. The blonde hisses through his teeth but keeps playing.

“You should play with us,” Changkyun keeps talking. “Sitting there sighing isn’t going to get time to move faster.”

“You should’ve just gone with them,” Minhyuk adds in. He jolts to the side as if he’s actually dodging what’s happening on the screen.

“I didn’t want to intrude,” you murmur.

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Hell On Heels

Characters: Cas x Sister!Reader, Sam, Dean, and a bit of John

Word Count: 4443

Warnings: Sassy reader, Cas is an awkward little nugget, canon typical violence

Summary: This is part two to “Spread the Word Around– the Girl’s Back in Town”. The reader reveals a bit of her history. Meanwhile, Team Free Will, along with its newest member, set out to take on what should be a relatively easy case.  Things do not go as planned, which works to the benefit of a certain shy angel.

A/N: So this is long overdue. Sorry. It’s a bit disjointed because I started it and then stopped and worked on something else… Apologies for that. I started out with this imagine in mind, and it kinda grew from there. Italics are reader’s thoughts. Thinking of making this a series. Let me know what you think. Hope you enjoy! As always, thanks for reading! Feedback is always welcomed and appreciated.

Read Part 1 here.

Originally posted by godshipsit

The protesting creak of a nearby door coupled with the muted sound of feet thudding down the hallway pulled you from your midnight reverie. Making your way quietly to the open doorway of your room, you scanned the hallway for the source of the noises, your eyes landing on a retreating figure of over six feet. With an annoyed groan, you made you way closer to the hulking mass that was trying to sneak down the hall like a teenager after curfew.

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Title: it’s always been you”

written by: sleepywinchester { prev; deanwinchester-af }
summary: you and dean… maybe it was meant to be?
note: this is part 3 of 3 day part mini series based of 12x06. (Parts: 1 & 2 ) this also was supposed to be a less than 600 words drabble but… again, i got carried away. i threw a little bomb at the end, if you got questions about that backstory, how the heck it could be that possible? throw them in to my ask. if you want to read a lil of that backstory and how they met. let me know if you would like a prequel part? this is something cute that has grown from nothing, i’m very happy you guys have enjoyed it. i’hope everyone enjoy this one  and if you do, please, leave feedback? i’ll appreciate it.  ♥   gif credit: (x)
words: 1,700

“Billie?” Dean spoke with confusion in his eyes. “What are you doing here?”

You frowned, shifting your look from the woman and turning to Dean. “You know her?”

“Yeah,” Dean said without looking at you. “She’s a reaper.”

You turned to glance at Billie who gave you an non bothered and sassy look. She smirked tucking her hands inside her jeans pockets.

“I’m doing my job,” Billie told Dean.

Dean scoffed, standing straight, “Well, I’m not dead yet.”

“Shame,” Billie smirked, “but actually, I just finished inside. I was reaping a fresh soul”

You glared at the house and turned to Billie. “Fresh soul?” You muttered and began to walk towards the house. You tried to open the door but it was locked down.

“Sam?!” Dean joined you, “Sammy?!”

“You two can huff and puff but that house is on supernatural lockdown.” Billie spoke behind the two of you. “They can’t even hear you.”

You turned to her, “You got in… You can get us in!”

“I mean I could… I suppose, but-”

“Do it!” You and Dean snapped at the same time.

“But,” Billie cocked an eyebrow, “it’s a one-way ticket. And you’re gonna owe me one.”

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Calories

Originally posted by neaarty

Summary: After months of water and air, the mental calculator of calories began ringing and Cheryl can’t help but hear, and try to help.

A/N: This was requested by anon so thank you very much! This one is gonna be extremely dark so please be careful if you get triggered by eating disorders.

Pairing: Cheryl x reader

Warnings: anorexia/bulimia, a lot of sadness, harsh descriptions, empowering ending


In the hallway of Riverdale high school, the girls were expected to be pencil thin. During the summer, the drink of choice was Vitaminwater and zero calorie soda. Sugar free was the holy grail and some even tried diets found online. The girls complemented each other’s thigh gaps and admired the small waistlines. Some worked out, and got toned, muscular bodies. The healthy way, by taking care of their bodies, drinking plenty of water and eating fruits and veggies. Having patience and time.

I chose the darker, faster road. I ate in front of mirrors, I donated blood, and I even tried the TicTac and water diet for a week. But my mind was counting the calories, every fat cell in my body, and my mind used it as leverage. So I drank ice water and ate air. The feeling of being cold in a hot room was a pleasurable feeling. Drinking cold water and getting the chill of it hitting the empty well was satisfaction. Fainting in the shower and not being able to hold myself upright was a side effect that was worth the attention. 

Cheryl was on vacation for the summer. She called me everyday, making sure her best friend was prepping for trying out for the Vixens. I told her everyday I was fine, I was happy, I was healthy. She told me that she got back halfway through the first week of school. I was happy she was coming back, don’t get me wrong. But she would make me eat, and the time bomb in my head would start going off again.


The first day of school started and I walked in to see girls stop and stare. Some came up to me, I was called an idol.

“No, I’m sick.”

They’d shut me up by calling me an inspiration. 

This happened all day. I was falling in love with my illness and people fell in love with my boney, unhealthy body. How could I not? Somebody offered me an apple and all I saw was sugar. They put it in my fingers and I couldn’t hold it with pure toothpicks. It fell to the floor and people laughed. Not at me, but at the thought of actually eating.

When Cheryl came back to school on Thursday, I stayed home. I could barely take myself down the stairs. My mom made me eat soup and crackers. My mind exploded. When she left for work, I got a text from Cheryl saying she was at school, missing her best friend.

I guess it’s now or never to try something new.

I picked myself up from the bed that was eating me alive and practically dragged myself to the bathroom. My knees were on the side of the toilet, and my head was in the bowl. 

Cheryl was a surprise in her own, many ways. She would bring me candies for when I passed a test, and took me to Pop’s just so I could eat the cherry on her milkshake. She was like oxygen; she was everywhere. When she got to school, word spread of my change. Cheryl felt pride, but remembered the past. My past. She disappeared into thin air, floating to my house in panic. A shock to her was a shock to myself.

In the doorway of my bathroom was Cheryl, slow tears ruining her makeup as her heels clicked all the way to my bathtub. She sat on the edge, flushed the contents in the toilet and held my hand. Her thumb rubbed circles and my head was in her knees, sobbing.

“You need help, (Y/N). I know it, and I know you know it. Now, you brush your teeth, and walk to the kitchen. We are gonna start small, and it will be painful and hard, but you’ll be happy and healthy.”


Being pretty isn’t worth losing yourself. Skinny isn’t always healthy. Loving yourself, your body, your mind, is what is truly beautiful. And I didn’t need Cheryl’s help to discover that.

The CRONCH: a Dear Evan Hansen fanfiction

(Quick note before we start:
@dearevanhansenheadcanons hey! I was the anon who submitted that headcanon [i had to use anon cause my main blog, the one I’m using to submit rn is actually for study stuff. This fic is also on my secondary blog @justamusicalobsessedkid] about Jared inventing a new edible bath bomb at Lush and I actually wrote an entire story on it!! Thus, The CRONCH ~ a Dear Evan Hansen fanfiction was created. Anyway, hope you give this a quick look. Thanks!!!)

The CRONCH

Jared Kleinman was a strange boy.
Strange, yes, but no one could deny the fact that he was intelligent in a way, particularly in anything technology related.
In his own words: “I’ve got skills, son.”
However, Jared wasn’t limited to his skills in the digital world. No one ever expected the young man to have a talent for innovation, as well.
Evan Hansen stood in the midst of shelves filled with bath bombs at Lush, waiting for his friend to finally finish his shift for the day.
“What time do you even end? Mom said for me to be with you by six-thirty. ”
“I get out of this perfume-scented hell hole at six. Why does your mom even want you to hang out with me?” Came the reply from Jared, restocking a shelf full of green and blue bath bombs.
Evan shrugged. “Because you’re my friend, aren’t you? I mean, you did tell me after we made up when the whole Connor thing was over that I wasn’t just a family-friend anymore. Also my mom’s taking the night shift again and she doesn’t want me to be lonely so I gotta stay the night over at your place, now.”
“Fine then.” Jared said, just as he finished placing all the small spherical bath bombs unto the shelf, leaving one to slip into his jacket pocket.
Evan’s eyes widened.
“You steal bath bombs?” He screeched.
Jared hurriedly made a ‘shush’ sign at the other boy and turned his head towards the room behind the main shop, checking to see if his boss was anywhere around.
He breathed a sigh of relief upon not seeing George, his boss, anywhere in earshot. He was far out the back of the shop, taking a phone call. Jared glared at Evan, fixing his glasses momentarily.
“Shut up, will you? If Cranky Old George finds out, I’m out the door.” He hissed.
“I save them for myself and sometimes even my mom likes them. Besides,” the sarcastic boy added half jokingly, “they almost look good enough to eat.”
Evan stammered, staring at the his sneakers. “S-sorry. But I-I-I mean, why don’t you just buy them?”
“Says the guy who only paid me twenty bucks to make fake emails.” Jared shot back.
“Point taken.”
The clock struck five-fifty.
Jared brushed the bath bomb dust off on his jeans.
“Stay there, I’ll just go out back and see if I still have something to do. If I don’t, the old one’ll let me go early.”
Evan nodded, turning to examine the Lush products that filled the entire shop.

Within minutes, he heard loud, angry talking coming from the back room. He gulped nervously, even considering just getting out of the shop and going to the Kleinman residence on his own, just when Jared came right out of the back room.
He had a slightly worried expression on his face as he took off the uniform all Lush employees wore, leaving it in a messy heap on the counter.
“So,” he said. “good news is I’m getting let off early today. Bad news—a customer called, complaining to Cranky Old George about me.”
Evan’s eyes widened. “What did they say?”
Jared snorted, speaking in a high-pitched voice that Evan knew he used when imitating elderly women while making flamboyant gestures. “'Hello, you know that laddie who works in your shop? The one who’s name tag says his name is Jared Kleinman? Well, you see, son, when I asked that young man for one of those water bombs of yours with hearts in them the lad laughed at me and asked if I was going to use it in the hot tub along with my hubby, as he—oh, what did that boy say, again? Ah, yes—sticks his di–'”
"Okay let’s stop there Jared.” Evan said, his face flushing bright pink.
“First of all,” he said, in horror. “you made ‘those’ jokes to a customer?”
Jared rolled his eyes. “Yes, brilliant observation from my small reenactment, Hansen. Do I really still need to repeat everything in that old lady voice to confirm for you? And don’t call them ‘those’ jokes, they’re my jokes and frankly, I’m quite proud of them.”
Evan sighed. It was very typical for Jared to be this way, but it did tend to get inconvenient from time to time.
“So what did your boss say?”
Jared scrunched his eyebrows, obviously thinking about what George had told—or more accurately, yelled at—him.
“Something about me having to do extra work or else he’ll fire me by next week. I gotta think of a new idea for a bath bomb in three days or something like that.”
“You what?” Evan rambled, his eyes as wide as plates. “That’s incredibly pressuring Jared, you know you could come up with a bad idea or not even come up with anything at all and then you’ll lose your job.”
“I know,” The other boy mumbled. “And this job is giving me my car insurance money. Can’t lose that now.”
The two reached the Kleinman household, with Evan in a state of mid-panic and Jared in worry for the future of his car insurance.
Mrs. Kleinman smiled at Evan the moment he stepped into the door with Jared. “Hi Evan, dear. Your mom called, said you’re supposed to stay here for the night.”
Evan nodded just as he and Jared began ascending up the stairs that led to the house’s second floor.
The worried boy dropped his bag on Jared’s bed, pacing around the room nervously. “What are you gonna do? You have, like, three days to just suddenly come up with some brilliant idea or you’ll get the boot.”
“Calm yourself, Hansen. I’ll think of something sooner or later.” Jared replied.

However, it wasn’t until during dinner when Jared finally got a good idea, which—strangely—came to him mid-sip of a glass of Kool-Aid.
His eyes widened as he jumped up from his seat so quickly he nearly knocked his glasses off his face.
Evan looked at him in concern. “Jared, what are you—?”
“Mom, do we still have Kool Aid?”
Mrs. Kleinman looked confused. “Yes, why?”
She received no answer from Jared, instead the boy rushed into the kitchen, grabbing an unused bowl from the side of the table.
Mrs. Kleinman looked at Evan, who looked as equally perplexed.
“Excuse him,” she chuckled, tilting her head to try and catch a glance at what her son was up to in the kitchen. “Jared really is rather… Odd.”
Evan managed a small smile. “I know.”
Meanwhile, back in the kitchen, Jared was acting completely on impulse. He pushed the thick-framed square glasses that framed his eyes up his face, flinging open the doors to the Kleinmans’ small pantry. His eyes scanned the shelves packed with bags and boxes, reaching out every once in a while to rapidly grab an item from inside. Once he decided he had everything, he set to work.
Eventually, Evan popped his head into the kitchen, checking on Jared.
“Your mom’s wondering what you’re up to.” He said, watching Jared press a sand-like mixture into spherical molds.
Jared shook his head in reply, tossing his head to the side for a moment in an attempt to brush away the few strands of hair that fell on his face without using his hands, still busy packing his creation.
When he had finished, he tossed the bowl and the spoon he used into the sink and flashed a mischievous grin up at Evan, who had been watching his friend the entire time.
“What did you just—?”
Jared chuckled excitedly. “Patience, Hansen. You’ll see.”

The next day, Jared Kleinman stood in the back room of Lush, facing his boss a little too confidently.
He brought a paper bag with him, filled with the little things he had spent around an hour making and a water jug.
Jared stuck one hand into the bag, gripping around for one of the spherical bath bombs he had made.
He beamed at George, who had began scrutinizing the young boy the minute he stepped into the shop on that day.
“May I present to you, Sir, my creation—a revolutionary breakthrough that will surely make our sales skyrocket.” He said enthusiastically, holding the bath bomb in front of George.
The older man laughed, almost in pity. “A bath bomb? Mr. Kleinman, Lush has plenty of those. I simply don’t see how this’ll be able to be 'a revolutionary breakthrough.’”
Jared laughed cockily, to George’s annoyance.
“Sir, you don’t see how my bath bomb can can be insanely cool,” He paused, chuckling, before adding “much like me.” under his breath.
Jared raised the red bath bomb to his mouth, grinning at George.
“You have to taste it.” He said, before taking a huge bite out of the bath bomb.
If Jared hadn’t caught George’s attention earlier, he certainly had now.
“Edible.” He chuckled, offering a new bath bomb to George. “They’re edible.”
George sniffed the bath bomb tentatively, before taking a small bite out of it.
It tasted wonderful, not to mention the sound it made when bitten into it was loud, noisy… Just like biting into a wafer bar but much louder. Just like crunching on trail mix, but instead of just a soft crunch, the sound was more of a loud cronch.
George was amazed. He had never seen or tasted anything like such in his life. “What—what is it made of?”
Jared smirked, seeing the amazement on his boss’ face.
“Baking soda, corn starch, powdered sugar, and critic acid for the base.” He said, taking another bite of his bath bomb. “I added Kool Aid in different flavors to give it that color and the way it tastes. Finished with rock fizz candy and edible glitter, too.”
Jared placed the water jug on the desk and uncapped it.
“Oh, and did I mention—” he said, dropping another bath bomb into the water, watching as it slowly dissolved just like a normal bath bomb would.
“You can also make a drink out of them” Jared concluded, taking a sip out of the now purple colored drink.
George shook his head in bewilderment.
“Mr. Kleinman,” he started, in pure disbelief. “This is… Amazing. You have made such a wonderful contribution to our store. I will pitch your edible bath bombs as an idea—with all credits to you, of course—and hopefully in a month or two we’ll see your bath bombs soon lining one of our shelves.”
He smiled up at his employee, reaching out to shake Jared’s hand. “I really cannot believe you created this… Figured everything out all by yourself.”
“Well,” Jared allowed himself to admit. “I still haven’t decided on what to name it. I was thinking to just sell the pink ones and name them Kinky Pinks but I felt am unavoidable shame for the other flavors that customers might also want to try.”
Luckily for him, though, George had it all figured out.
“Not a problem, Mr. Kleinman. I have a name that might just be fitting for your product…”

A month and a half passed. Lush was booming with new customers.
On a display in the middle of the store, bath bombs in every color stood out from the rest, accompanied with a sign that read:
”NEW!! the CRONCH: an edible bath bomb experience, brought to you by Lush, concept developed by our very own employee— Jared Kleinman"
To this day, Jared works at Lush, dashing around the store to attend to customers. A certain proud habit of his that developed over the days was that while assisting people, Jared would make his way over to the Cronch’s shelf and grab a bath bomb from it, taking a huge bite of it in front of the customers, who would look at him with expressions of disbelief and amazement.
This certain effective 'marketing strategy’ (as George called it) did cause Jared to be the victim of many jokes and pranks, though. A notable prank his coworkers pulled on him was done during April Fools, when they decided to switch up bath bomb displays without informing Jared—placing his edible bath bombs on a different shelf and actual bath bombs on the one his product used to rest on.
Sure enough, Jared didn’t notice the switch and just as he was entertaining a customer, he took a huge bite out of a real bath bomb as his coworkers—looking on earnestly from the counter—all burst out laughing.
He couldn’t deny the fact that he may have enjoyed the actual bath bomb, however. Even though he wouldn’t quite admit it to many.

On a particularly busy day at Lush, Evan dropped by to check on his friend again.
He smiled at Jared, who shot him a quick smirk as he took a bite out of another edible bath bomb.
“Loving the cronch, Jared?” He asked jokingly.
Jared grinned mischievously, winking. “You gotta love that cronch.”

(Small note: the recipe for the edible bath bombs [tHAT ACTUALLY WORKS!!] came from my amazing friend– who can literally search for, and successfully find, anything on the internet. You know who you are. Thanks, buddy. Sincerely, me, A)

Tequila Ink (Trixya) - Matilda

Summary: Trixie has a wild night out and wakes up to a hangover and a tattoo dedicated to her girlfriend, who is might be very scared of commitment and the concept of things that last.

AN: Alright, so this was the first fic that I have ever considered publishing, so I’m hoping you guys could give me a light whether this is good or not, and maybe you could give me tips? In addition, English is not my first language, so I’m already sorry for the mistakes you’ll find here. This was a prompt I couldn’t get out of my head, and I hope you like it! Yay.

Keep reading

Issues

This is what happens when I drink caffeine. Thanks for reading


When Amanda opens her front door on that rainy, Wednesday night, she nearly closes it. She is too tired and too stressed to deal with Sam’s bullshit, but he looks like a drowned puppy, soaked and red eyed (though she can’t quite remember the last time she actually saw Sam without red eyes), that she rolls her eyes and ushers him inside.

“Thanks a lot, Amanda,” Sam says scrambling over the threshold, barely catching himself when he trips over his feet.

“Whatever,” Amanda responds shutting the door. She turns, cringing when Sam’s wet jacket falls to the floor, knowing she’ll be the one who has to clean that up. “What are you, like, even doing here?”

Sam spins around to face her, something close to panic flickering across his face, but it quickly morphs into an easy going smile and he shrugs. “I was in the neighborhood, ya know?”

“No, I don’t know.” She moves across the room, kicking Sam’s jacket out of her way, and says, “You’re dripping water all over my floor. I think Steve left some stuff here. I’ll be right back.

“How is Steve?”

“Why do you care?”

“I dunno, figured I’d ask.”

“Uh-huh.” Amanda rushes upstairs, not in the mood to discuss hers and Steve’s relationship, especially with present company. It’s not Sam’s business to know that she hasn’t seen Steve in over a week and that he hasn’t bothered to answer her calls. It’s no one’s business but her own. And Steve’s. Fucking asshole.

Amanda grabs the first set of male clothes she can find, hurrying out of her bedroom, and quickly returns to Sam. She finds him where she left him, standing awkwardly in her foyer, staring distractedly at the floor. She scares him when she clears her throat, and he flinches slightly when she holds out the clothes for him, but she doesn’t comment.

“Thanks,” he says quietly, taking the clothes. “Is there a place I can change?”

“Bathroom’s over there.” She gestures towards an area under the stairs, and he nods, hurrying away, disappearing behind the bathroom door.

Amanda crosses her arms, glaring at the door, wondering why Sam would bother showing up here of all places. He has sold drugs to half the student body, surely one of them would have let him into their house. What made her so special?

Sam comes out of the bathroom a few minutes later, clutching his wet clothes in his hands, nearly tripping over Steve’s sweats. He’s practically swimming in the sweater he’s wearing, Steve having a good thirty pounds and 5 inches on him, and Amanda has to bite her lip to keep from laughing. Sam literally looks like a child playing dress up.

“You got somewhere I can put these?” Sam asks, sounding a little miffed, and Amanda knows she didn’t hide her amusement well enough.

“I’ll get a trash bag.”

She returns from the kitchen a few moments later, shaking out a black trash bag, and hands it over to Sam. As he starts shoving his stuff inside, he says, “Your parents let Steve stay over all the time?”

Amanda frowns. “I told you, my parents were…”

“Killed. Yeah, yeah.” Sam ties the bag, tossing it by the door, and says, “Car accident, right?”

Stomach clenching, Amanda blinks away a stray tear, and says, “I don’t wanna talk about that.”

Sam must sense her discomfort, resting his hand on her shoulder when he says, “Sorry. Sometimes, sometimes I don’t think before I say stuff.”

She shakes his hand off, moving away from him. “That’s an understatement.” She crosses her arms, scowling at the floor, chewing on the inside of her cheek. “Look, if you’ve come all the way here to, like, talk about my family…”

“No, no I-” Sam trails off, looking away from her, and Amanda feels a little vindicated that she’s made him uncomfortable. “Look, it’s nothing. I just…” He runs a hand through his hair, clenching the other into a fist, looking like he wants to say something, but instead he sighs and shakes his head. “Just, you know, in the neighborhood.”

“On a Wednesday? During a rainstorm?”

“Sometimes ya gotta take a walk. No matter the weather.”

Amanda makes a skeptical sound, but doesn’t push the subject. He’s not talking, and there’s no point in trying to force him to say anything. So, instead, she says, “You can, I don’t know, wait out the storm here, I guess.”

She walks back into the living room, returning to her seat on the couch, and a few seconds later Sam joins her, cramming himself into the far corner, pulling his knees up to his chest.

“Whatcha, uh, whatcha watching?” he asks curiously, squinting at the paused movie on the TV screen. “Is that Willy Wonka?”

“It’s the only thing the video store had,” Amanda snaps, defensive. She’s not about to tell Sam that’s she and her dad used to watch this movie every year on her birthday and that sometimes, when she really starts to miss him, she rents it just so she can feel closer to him again. It’s not Sam’s business.

“Hey, it’s alright,” Sam says quickly, raising his hands in an attempt to mollify the situation. “ Ain’t nothing wrong with Willy Wonka.”

“I know.”

“You mind if I watch it with you?”

Amanda hesitates, wondering if Sam is making fun of her, but he seems sincere and the movie is almost over, so she sighs and nods. She reaches for the remote, hitting play on the VHS, and settles back, crossing her arms over her chest.

It doesn’t take her long to get back into the movie, her gaze so focused on the screen that she completely forgets Sam is sitting next to her. Quietly, she says the lines with the actors, eyes burning as she watches Wonka, Charlie, and Grandpa Joe break free from the factory in the glass elevator.

When Wonka says, “You know what happened to the man who has everything? He lived happily ever after.” she blinks and a single tear rolls down her face, landing on his shirt. She reaches up to wipe it away, but another one replaces it and another and another. She sniffs, hiccuping, wishing her dad was here right now to tell her everything is going to be okay.

When she feels the hand on her shoulder, for just a moment, she believes her wish has come true, but it’s only Sam. He gives her a sad smile, and she tries to return it but she knows she’s not successful.

“Hey, hey it’s okay.” He gives her an awkward shoulder pat, trying his hardest to comfort her, but that’s not what she needs right now.

Amanda isn’t sure who’s more surprised when she throws her arms around his neck: him or her, but she needs a hug and he can get past his discomfort for one night. He’s still for a good ten seconds before he slowly puts his arms around her, and she buries her head in his shoulder.

She thinks she feels him kiss the top of her head, but she doesn’t comment. In fact, she vows never to speak of this moment to anyone, not even Steve, but for right now she basks in the comfort.

Even if it’s only for this one night.