it was supposed to be rainbow but i hated the first one

Not So Berry Legacy Challenge

Do you like the rainbow? Do you like the idea of playing with berry Sims but hate berry Sims? Do you want to mess around with aspects of the game you’ve never used before? Boy, do I have the challenge for you!

Welcome to the Not So Berry Legacy Challenge, a ten generation legacy with a focus on bright colors and new experiences.

Basic Rules:

  1. Each heir must represent the color of the generation (i.e. hair, makeup, clothing), but brightly colored skin is not necessary (these aren’t actually berry Sims, that’s the joke). Of course, this is optional but a big portion of the fun.
  2. The colors of the spouses don’t matter as they aren’t part of the challenge. Unless otherwise stated you can do whatever you please with them.
  3. Money cheats can be used, but not excessively. Suggestion: use freerealestate for your first home, but no cheats afterward.
  4. You may live wherever you please unless something is specified in the rules of a generation.
  5. Every generation is supposed to complete both the career and aspiration of the heir unless explicitly stated otherwise.
  6. Keep the lifespan on normal.
  7. If you play this challenge and want to share it with us, go ahead and post with #notsoberry so we can see!

My good friend @alwaysimming​ and I kind of created this challenge on accident, but I think it turned out pretty great. We wanted to make something that forced us to play with parts of the game we’ve never explored before. Hopefully you’ll have fun too. You can follow our gameplay on @mintiphresh​ and @lea-fey​ (pronounced “minty fresh” and “leafy”)!

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Women In Young Adult Literature

This Wednesday we’re celebrating the social, economic, cultural and political achievements of women on International Women’s Day. I’d like to use that as an opportunity to talk about a few of my favorite female characters in Young Adult books. Careful if you haven’t read these books because of possible spoilers.

Cather Avery (Fangirl)

Cather Avery and her twin sister Wren are starting college and Wren has announced she wants to discover college on her own, leaving an introvert Cath hiding out in her dorm, writing fan fiction. I really liked that Fangirl was about Cath as a character at first and everything else second. Cath is shy and introvert but she’s also sure of who she is and isn’t ashamed of that.

Madeline Whittier (Everything Everything)

Madeline has a rare illness which prevents her from leaving her house, but Maddy is a happy teenage girl. She reads a lot, takes classes online, has a friend in the form of her nurse. Despite the fact that she was missing out on so much in her life, she keeps being optimistic. It is impossible not to like her. Of course, she was also moody and curious. This curiosity eventually leads her to uncover a secret that will change everything for her.

Glory O’Brien (Glory O’Brien’s History of the Future)

One evening Glory and her best friend mix up beer with the remains of a bat (that is as weird as it sounds). Next thing they know they can see people’s pasts and futures. Glory becomes obsessed with the second civil war and decided to write down every piece of information she gathers from seeing people’s futures. I loved how Glory handled seeing the future. She questioned everything in her past and present; her future, the strange hippie community across the street and especially her mother’s suicide and what I means for her.

Rose Hathaway (Vampire Academy-series)

Rose Hathaway is a Dhampir and thus fated to guard a Moroi. She’s determined to protect her best friend Lissa, a royal Moroi. Rose is sarcastic and insubordinate but she is fiercely loyal to Lissa. Over the course of the series Rose loves and loses Dimitri. The loss of him puts her friendship with Lissa and even her life at stake.

Mara Dyer (Mara Dyer trilogy and upcoming Shaw Confessions)

She has to power to kill people with a thought, but is she a villain? Throughout this trilogy, Mara tries to figure out what is happening with her. She means no harm, but around her people start dying under strange circumstances. She tries to understand her powers and is put in dangerous situations because of it. To get herself out of these situations she must use her power and questions who she is when she does.

Gwendolyn Shepard (Ruby Red)

Kerstin Gier gives us curious and funny heroines. These characteristics often put them in complicated situations. Take Gwendolyn, (Gwyneth in the US/UK editions) for example. She can travel through time but it isn’t nearly as fun as it sounds. She always taught her cousin would inherit the time travel gene, she isn’t ready to fulfill tasks that would take her across time. Yet, Gwendolyn uncovers the truth and stands her ground while taking on an ancient organization.

Shahrzad Al-Khayzuran (The Wrath and the Dawn)

She marries the Caliph, not to love him and be his bride, but to kill him. Khalid has had countless wives and has killed every one of them, including her best friend. But when Shahrzad finds out her husband is cursed she takes it upon herself to save him and their people. Shahrzad can come across as spoiled, but she also doesn’t take shit from anyone and doesn’t like to be told what to do.

Inej Ghafa & Nina Zenik (Six Of Crows)

Inej can climb the most impossible buildings. She grew up with loving parents but was separated from them and sold to a brothel. Her time there still causes her anxiety. Nina was a member of the second army in the Ravkan war. She’s a heartrender. Nina loves her power, she loves food and she loves Matthias, who is supposed to be her enemy, and she knows he loves her too. Nina is determined to show him Grisha aren’t evil like he has been told, to not only accept her but her kind as well. Inej and Nina are just as much a part of The Dregs as the boys and just as important for their mission.

Kestrel Trajan (The Winner’s trilogy)

As the general’s daughter Kestrel knows politics very well. She has always had a privileged life. When Valorians and Herrani’s go to war, Kestrel is put in a difficult position. Her people are in the wrong, but they are her people. Arin isn’t one of them. He’s her slave, the boy she’s in love with. She has to help his people. Kestrel is often put before terrible options but they are her only options and what do you choose when the outcome is bound to be horrible either way?

Verity (Code name Verity)

“Kiss me, Hardy. Kiss me, quick!” Well, if this book didn’t destroy me. Verity is captured by Nazi’s and tortured until she agrees to write down everything she knows - everything. The first half of the book is her confession, the second half is told from her best friend’s POV. Maddie and Verity are major friendship goals. Their story was so inspiring and completely heartbreaking at the same time.

Bianca (The DUFF)

The Designated Ugly Fat Friend is what Robbie calls Bianca, explaining that it isn’t a bad thing, but it’s a fact. Bianca tries to not let this bother her, but it does. She is the DUFF. Despite the fact that he hates Robbie the two of them start a friends-with-benefits relation, except for the “friends” part because they hate each other. The book discusses many others topics, such as friendship, neglect, alcoholism and divorce. Bianca uses the words ‘slut’ and ‘whore’ a lot throughout the book. In the end, she comes to a nice conclusion about these labels and ultimately it’s a good message. I would also recommend Kody’s other YA novels.

Linh Cinder (Cinder)

So far I’ve only read the first book in the Lunar Chronicles series, but it was enough to see that Cinder is bad-ass. She’s funny and sassy and the best mechanic in New Beijing. Instead of going to the Prince’ ball she’d rather use that opportunity to elope from her evil guardian. Things don’t go as planned when it’s discovered that Cinder is a Lunar, that she has powers, and that if the Lunar queen finds out, she will take Cinder to Luna and most likely kill her.

FUCK YOU - [ JIKOOK ]

Originally posted by gayjikookadi


In which you have the first sentence your soulmate will say to you tattooed on your shoulder, Jimin’s being “Excuse you, your morning boner is poking at my thigh”.

Even though Jungkook doesn’t have as bad luck as Jimin does, he isn’t completely satisfied with his “Fuck you” tattoo either.




Jimin had been only three when his mother had told him about soulmates for the first time. He could remember it like it happened just yesterday. That was how clear the memory was.

“Jimin,” she’d said, sitting him down on his bed with an intense look in her eyes. “In your life, you will meet one person who is unlike anyone else. You’ll feel a pull towards them - the first time you lock eyes, you will feel like you’re suddenly whole again, after feeling like you’ve been missing something, no, someone your whole life.

You’ll know them when you meet, but if you ever doubt yourself, a tattoo will appear on your shoulder when you turn five. The first words they’ll ever say to you will be carved into your skin until the day your soulmate says them to you, the very day you’ll first talk to each other.”

Here, she smiled. Like she was remembering something amazing, something special. “And when you meet them, Jimin, don’t you ever let them go. If you lose them, you will feel broken again, and you will lose your will to live and die. Don’t you ever let them go.”

Jimin had thought that the first words his soulmate would say to him would be beautiful and poetic, that the words he would get would be something he could treasure.

Boy, was he wrong.

On his fifth birthday, his whole family gathered around the little boy. On the precise time he’d been born, his shoulder had started to bloom with a numbing pain, just like he’d been told multiple times before.

It took ten minutes - twenty, tops - until the feeling had finally started to fade. That was when he got the courage to glance at the tattoo resting on his collarbone.

“Mom, what’s a boner?” He had asked, as innocent as a lamb, after reading the sentence. She’d gasped harshly, as had most of his relatives, then took a look at his shoulder.

Excuse you, your morning boner is poking at my thigh.

At the time, he had no idea what a ‘morning boner’ was, but as the seasons changed and the years passed, he found out exactly what it meant.

And Jimin started to wish that soulmates didn’t exist, so badly that he almost believed it.

Almost.

Because no matter how hard he tried to lie to himself, the truth was that he had the tattoo on his shoulder, and it would never change. And honestly, Jimin couldn’t help hating his soulmate just a bit for it.


***

Jimin pulled the oversized black and white striped shirt over his head and looked at his reflection in the bathroom mirror. The shirt left quite a bit of shoulder exposed, and he sighed as he traced a finger over the words. The black letters looked harsh on Jimin’s tan skin, and it made him cringe.

He’d gotten used to the tattoo over the years, but his friends hadn’t. Because of his (stupid) soulmate, he’d become the butt of fifty too many jokes, and, whenever his friends laughed, he wanted to break the nose of whoever would be brash enough to say this.

Stupid soulmates.

Jimin had sworn, when he’d been seventeen and incredibly annoyed after a particularly harsh (but slightly funny) joke, that the first thing he’d say to his soulmate when he met them, no matter who they were, would be a big “fuck you”.

That was what he thought about as he squeezed a generous amount of thick foundation on his fingers and started to spread it on his tattoo. His friends were bad enough; he didn’t need any strangers seeing it at today’s party, which was being hosted but the richest and most arrogant brat on the whole campus. Probably the whole freaking world.

Jeon Jungkook.

Jimin didn’t know the guy - hell, he hadn’t even talked to him - but he already didn’t like him. He was handsome and rich, and he definitely knew it. Jimin only had agreed to go to the stupid thing because his best friend, Hoseok, had convinced him to. In fact, Hoseok wanted Jimin to go with him so he could hook him up with Yoongi, Jimin’s other best friend. Not an exciting prospect, honestly.

“Jimin, come on! We’re going to be late!” Hoseok yelled through the bathroom door, banging on the wood with heavy fists. It was ten o’clock in the evening, and Hoseok was eager to meet with Yoongi, who would (hopefully) be his date for the night.

“Shut up, I’m coming,” Jimin mumbled, putting the foundation away when his tattoo was covered up the way it was supposed to be. He unlocked the door and pulled it open, glaring. Hoseok knew he hated being rushed, and his roommate gave him an innocent smile.

Hoseok was dressed in black skinny jeans and a plain white top, a blazer and sneakers thrown on for good measure. Very billionaire-playboy-chilling-with-a-glass-of-scotch.

“Woah, you look good”, he complimented him, and Jimin’s glare turned into a smile. He’d parted his hair to reveal his forehead, and even though he wasn’t the most confident person, he felt good about the way he looked for once.

“Now, can we go?” Hoseok pleaded, with big doe eyes for effect, and Jimin sighed.

“Fine, let’s get this over with,” he mumbled, grabbing a pair of black boots. Hoseok watched him pull them on, and Jimin muttered, “Calm down,” just when he was pulled out the door.

***

“Oh my God, I’m so nervous, I think I’m going to puke. I think I look green, do I look green?”

Jimin rolled his eyes, smiling fondly. Hoseok had been rambling for the past half hour, while they walked to the mansion where the party was supposed to be.

“You’ll be just fine, don’t worry. He might seem a bit cold, but I swear he’s all rainbows and unicorns inside,” Jimin said, doing his best to pry his best friend’s claws off his shirt (it was a gift, after all). He snickered when Hoseok kept muttering, ‘oh my God,’ as they arrived. The house was a mansion, almost as grand as Gatsby’s. What else would you expect from a rich brat?

As they made their way to the front door, Jimin started to look around. Yoongi had promised to be here; he owed Jimin a favor, which was why he had agreed to be Hoseok’s date for tonight. Otherwise he probably would’ve just stayed home, writing music in the almost-dark as usual (Yoongi’s dream was to be a famous rapper).

When Jimin finally spotted him, lounging near a wall with a stereotypical red solo cup in his hand, he grabbed Hoseok’s hand and started making his way towards the dark-haired man. Hopefully, he wouldn’t move before they got there.

“Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God, that’s Yoongi right there, oh my God, he looks so good”, Hoseok repeated the words like they were the only thing keeping him alive. It was a good thing the music was so loud, otherwise Yoongi would’ve heard. Hoseok was right, Jimin admitted to himself. Yoongi was dressed in all black, with a snapback pulled over his eyes, like in all of his rap videos.

Jimin pushed Hoseok towards Yoongi, who had noticed them and was now standing up straight. Jimin winked and gave Hoseok a thumbs up before he melted into the crowd.

He didn’t need to be a third wheel for the whole night. No, he’d much rather spend his time with some good ol’ shots of strong, liver-killing alcohol. Jimin wasn’t someone who drank often, but his choices were a) be sober and painfully alone or b) be alone and roaring drunk.

Not a hard choice, really.

He found his way to the alcohol and poured himself six shots with a smile on his face. Now that’s what we are talking about. He downed his first shot after he found himself a place to sit (he wasn’t planning on being in any condition to stand for much longer). From his spot, he could see almost everyone in the giant room. His eyes skipped over people until he saw someone he really didn’t want to.

The host of the party. None other than Jeon Jungkook himself.

Jimin scoffed. He was leaning back on the couch, girls and guys surrounding him with a girl in a silvery-blue dress on his lap. Jeon threw his head back in laughter.

He downed the second shot the moment he saw that stupid rich brat sucking faces with another student (wasn’t he Namjoon?). He was nowhere near drunk enough to see that. Another shot disappeared, burning its way down his throat.

A weird feeling bubbled in his chest as he watched the two suck each other’s souls out. He couldn’t quite give the emotion a name, but it felt a lot like… jealousy? No fucking way. Jimin almost laughed out loud at his thoughts, downing a fourth shot. They didn’t even know each other.

The rest of the night was a blur, but he was fairly certain he had ended up drinking way more than six shots. It resulted in some awkward interactions with other students, who were nearly as drunk as him, and of course, he had blacked out on the mansion’s floor before the party had even finished. He could’ve sworn he had seen Yoongi and Hoseok get along well. Of course, if your definition of getting along was kissing rather shyly in a secret corner.  

***

Jungkook saw the boy in the striped shirt the moment he’d walked in.

His silver hair that reflected the light perfectly, his plump lips that he bit when he tried not to laugh - every single thing about him seemed to draw him in. He’d come with someone who looked incredibly nervous, was that his boyfriend? His eyebrows furrowed, ever so slightly, and he shook his head. Why did he care? It was none of his business.

Still, his gaze followed him (wasn’t his name Park Jimin, or something?) intently as he navigated his way through the people in the party, until they reached a guy who looked like he’d rather be anywhere than here. The silver-haired male pushed his friend - something Jungkook had just realized -  towards the guy who had been leaning on the wall. He was short, like Jimin.

Jungkook watched Jimin slip into the crowd, the two boys left looking awkwardly at each other. He rolled his eyes. The two clearly liked each other; what was so hard about talking to each other and actually sharing a conversation instead of awkward, yearning glances?

Jungkook tried to find Jimin, but it was like he’d disappeared into thin air. Had he left? A weird feeling of desperation flushed through the Jungkook as he moved to sit on the couch, people crowding to sit around him. He spotted Jimin a few minutes after, sitting alone with a tray of shots in front of him. Jungkook watched him drink shot after shot, and grinned at the cute way he scrunched up his nose after every single one.

Woah, cute??

Time to move on.

Jungkook turned towards the group he was sitting with, mostly to Namjoon, who sat right next to him. Namjoon was good-looking, he couldn’t deny that, but why didn’t his dimples make him feel all warm and fuzzy inside? Why didn’t his smile make his stomach flip like Jimin’s smile did? Would Namjoon’s lips make Jungkook feel the way he felt when he saw Jimin?

That was what went through his mind as he leaned towards the platinum-haired male and captured their lips in a kiss that Jungkook found anything but passionate. He could taste alcohol in Namjoon’s mouth, and it most definitely didn’t make butterflies fly around his insides.

He felt like throwing up when he finally pulled away. That was their first and last kiss, Jungkook decided right then and there.

He bolted up from his seat and headed towards the bar - because alcohol was exactly what he needed to drown his feelings.

All Jungkook could remember after that was downing way too much whiskey, keeping his hands to himself way too little, and getting way, way too drunk.

***

Jimin let out a groan as he forced his eyes open, then let out another when he screwed them shut again. The sun was high up already, and the room  was annoyingly, incredibly bright.

There was an ogre in his head, kicking his brain and making everything tremble as revenge for last night. He almost wished he’d stayed at the dorms, cuddling into a fuzzy blanket while reading a good book. But the feeling of being carefree, being completely weightless, was worth the headache. And the nausea.

Jimin shifted to his side. There was something warm and soft, and he burrowed into that soft something, letting out a content sigh. That soft something smelled really nice, pine and cologne and something else, and he breathed in deeply.  After a few minutes of being comfortable, he heard a rumbly voice rasp entirely too close to his ear.

“Excuse you, your morning boner is poking at my thigh,” the person groaned. The way his voice scraped around the edges made heat flood in his chest, like slipping into a warm blanket.

Jimin whined and nuzzled his face into the soft material, mumbling a small “fuck you,” as he did. A few seconds later, the soft something, or someone disappeared, and he hit his head on the cold, hard floor.

His headache split his head in half.

“Ow! What the fuck?” He yelped, sitting up and rubbing his eyes with the tiniest hint of a pout on his lips. When he finally managed to open his eyes, he jumped, nearly six feet in the air.

Jeon Jungkook was sitting in front of him, all messy dark hair and eyes that sparkled in the sun. Jimin’s heart jumped into overdrive.

“What did you just say to me?” Jungkook questioned, leaning forward ever so slightly, which made Jimin lean backward ever so slightly.

“Um, ‘fuck you’?” Jimin suggested carefully, playing with his hands and looking at his lap.

“Oh my God,” Jungkook mumbled. Jimin’s eyes turned into saucers when he started to take his shirt off.

“W-What do you think you’re doing?” he stuttered, failing miserably at trying to sound annoyed. Moments later, a sigh slipped past his lips at the image of Jungkook shirtless, the sun hitting his skin like he was a god.

And no, it wasn’t because of Jungkook’s toned chest or abs, not even his arms or beautiful golden skin, but because of the tattoo on his shoulder. Exactly where Jimin’s was. Exactly where the soulmate tattoo was supposed to be.

Fuck you.

“Are you kidding me?” Jimin snickered, his nervousness vanishing. He traced a finger over the words, curling black on golden skin, and nearly smiled when he felt Jungkook shiver. “Does that mean you actually just said ‘excuse you, your morning boner is poking at my thigh’?”

Jungkook’s cheeks turned rosy, the prettiest shade of pink Jimin had ever seen, and he looked down on his lap when he nodded. For once, not the arrogant, spoilt brat. “Sorry about that,” he said, “it must’ve not been a very nice thing to have on your shoulder.”

But Jimin didn’t care about that. He didn’t care about any of that, anymore.

He had finally found his soulmate, his missing piece, and my God, was he beautiful.

“You stupid, rich brat,” Jimin smiled, carefully leaning towards Jungkook. His lips curved into a soft smile, headache long forgotten.

“You stupid shortie,” Jungkook muttered just before their lips met. It was like Sunday afternoons, warm and comforting, but there was a layer of passion, just underneath.

And Jimin felt a hole he never knew he had disappear.




(A/N) Ahhhhh the end! Such a fluffy oneshot i LOVE JIKOOK OK

ALSO special thanks to my babe @yoongsigh for the amazing writing prompt and to the lovely bb @quill-ink for editing this and making it 2356293859857 times better <333 ily guys <3 <3

~College!au Pen Pal Jungkook~ PART FOURTEEN:END

[part 1] [part 2] [part 3] [part 4] [part 5] [part 6] [part 7] [part 8] [part 9] [part 10] [part 11] [part 12] [part 13]

Originally posted by jkguks

“Revenge?” You inquired with a smirk as he dragged you out of your room. 

“Come on. We have to make her feel bad, you know?”

“Aren’t we supposed to be the bigger people?” You raised an eyebrow. Stopping in his tracks, he sighed. “Aren’t you mad about what she did?”

“Oh, definitely.”

“Then, for once, just this once, for your…boyfriend, can you agree?” He drawled out the word ‘boyfriend’ as if testing it out and then nodded in satisfaction.

“Boyfriend, huh? I don’t recall you asking to be my boyfriend,” you looked around, aimlessly.

“But Y/N,” Jungkook whined, shaking your hand in his grasp.

“Yes?”

“I’ve already told you I love you and I’ve kissed you,” He peered down at you with a raised brow. When you nodded, motioning him to continue, he shook his head as a chuckled released from his lips. “Now, all that there’s left is the question. Will you be my girlfriend?”

“Sure, I love you, too, so it’s very clear that’d be my answer. Now, what were you thinking for revenge?”

“That’s it? A ‘Sure’? You know what, I should’ve expected that,” He laughed.

“Did you expect me to jump into your arms oh so gracefully and give you a kiss?”

“I mean, that’d be nice,” Jungkook shrugged with a cheeky grin. Rolling your eyes, you stood on your tippy-toes and pecked his cheek. He pouted but nonetheless walked along. 

“So, girlfriend, my plan of revenge is messy,” Jungkook smirked, leading you to his dorms.

“You’re not gonna call me that always, right? I like the sound of it but do we want to be that couple?” After a moment of silence you nodded to yourself. “Of course we do. We’ll annoy the shit out of people.”

“Exactly!”

“So what were you thinking?” You asked again when you reached his room; a room you stayed in plenty of time. You were the one who hogged his bed and constantly fought over room while, Yoongi, poor Yoongi, had to watch from the other side. Unlike you, Jungkook had a roommate. 

Opening the door, you both walked in. At the sound, Yoongi’s head popped up from his laying down position on the bed. “Y/N! I never thought I’d say this, but I missed you here!” Yoongi shouted, grinning ear to ear. You’ve never seen him like this.

“Hyung,” Jungkook sighed. 

“Nope, I missed Y/N. How many times have I told you to apologize to her for ignoring her for so long?” Yoongi stood up and walked over to the both of you. 

“Many,” Jungkook rubbed the back of his neck, awkwardly, casting his eyes downward.

“Oh really? Well, hate to break it to you but it required a Vmin intervention to get him to apologize,” You playfully scowled in Jungkook’s direction. 

“Why, what happened?”

“Remember Y/F/N?”

“That girl I met once when she came over and after she left, I banned her from coming back because she was too damn annoying? Yeah, I remember her,” Yoongi rolled his eyes as if recalling a day he’d much rather forget. 

“She wasn’t my pen pal…Y/N was,” Jungkook still obviously felt guilty for picking a stranger over you.

“Oh? That makes a lot of sense. I liked your pen pal’s sense of humor and I liked Y/N,” Snapping his fingers he shook his head, “Should connected them sooner.”

“Well, now she’s exposed and Kook and I want to get revenge,” You clapped your hands, smiling sweetly.

“And we’re dating! Y/N, can’t forget about the highlight,” Jungkook grinned.

“I sure hope you are. The way Jungkook used to go on and on about you, you already knew he was in love with you.” 

“Oh really?”

“Hyung! Not important right now! Revenge plan, remember?” Jungkook waved his hands around.

“I love a good revenge plan. What were you thinking?”

“Remember the paint war we were supposed to have?”

“The one with the balloons?”

Nodding his head, Jungkook grinned. “That’s a great idea!”

Looking between the two boys who’d be thought being twelve years old with a conversation like this, you were confused. Paint war? Balloons? 

“You think? It isn’t too mean?”

“You’re asking the wrong person…I’d write roast the shit out of them with a diss track. How can I help?”


“Great. More of Jungkook’s friends. Wanna yell at me, too?” You overheard Y/F/N groan when she spotted Yoongi, Namjoon and Jin approaching her. 

Both you and Jungkook were hiding on top of a probably restricted construction structure. It was in front of one of the buildings being repaired from storm damage. Under the structure, was Y/F/N where you had planned her to be. 

“We were just wondering why you lied to Jungkook,” Jin said, innocently, walking closer, but not close enough to be ‘revenge-ed.’

“I have to explain it to you, too? Ugh, honestly if I had known this would be the consequences of being his friend in the first place then I’d–” You nudged Jungkook to hurry up and start. Jungkook sent you a smirk before dropping the blue water balloon so it landed on her head. 

She let out a shriek as you stifled a laugh. The boys in front of her laughed their asses off, and you quickly grabbed the special present Taehyung gave you. Throwing it on the ground next to her, an eruption of purple smoke was released. 

“Smoke bomb. Smart,” Jungkook nodded, handing you a balloon. You both threw the remaining balloons before the smoke dissipated and scurried off the structure. You pretended to be just walking in on the scene, noticing the boys motioning you over. 

“You did this!” Y/F/N pointed an accusing finger at the two of you. Putting both your hands up in surrender you denied, “We just got here, how would we?” You couldn’t contain your laugh as you observed her. She was a rainbow. Her arms were green and orange, while her head and torso was a mixture between blues and pinks. 

“Then maybe it was the other two,” She was fuming. 

“Us?” Taehyung and Jimin genuinely just entered the scene. All the while, other students walked by with snickers and smirks on their faces.

“Wondered why she got that.”

“I don’t care. She deserved it. You know she stole my boyfriend in freshman year?”

“She looks better like that.”

“I’d give a high five to the person who did that.”

Smirking to yourselves, both you and Jungkook returned to your dorm room. “Now, that, was fun,” You yelled, a large grin on your face. Tackling Jungkook in an embrace, you sighed in content. 

“Princess, as long as you’re dating me, it’ll always be fun,” He wiggled his eyebrows, suggestively.

“Says the virgin,” You smirked causing him to gasp. 

“Hey! You’re making fun!”

“No, no, just a small tease,” You leaned up and pecked his lips. Humming in response, Jungkook pulled you onto your bed. Hovering over you and wrapping his arms around you, he gave a cute smile.

“Just letting you know, I’m not letting go. Ever,” He buried his head in the crook of your neck as you laid underneath him.

“Good. Because I don’t want you to.”

The both of you soon fell asleep, your hand playing with his hair, a new thing you did that Jungkook loved. However, like the last time, you managed to move around so you were against his chest and legs tangled together. 

This time, when you woke up, there was no awkwardness. Soft smiles and sweet words were exchanged between you two and man, you wondered what the hell you did to deserve it. 


That day, you were both sent to you Dean’s office where Y/F/N, still some part of her body covered in paint splatters, sat in his chair. You sat in the other two seats next to Y/F/N. 

“I’m sorry Y/F/N, but no one saw it,” your Dean apologized.

“They had a smoke bomb! Believe me they did it!” She pointed another accusing finger at you.

“And why would they do that?” The Dean raised his eyebrow. You and Jungkook exchanged glances. You were both expecting this. If Y/F/N said you waned revenge, she’d have to explain why. And why would be the reason she’d be in trouble. Pretending to be someone else, especially if it was part of an assignment, was a violation and she knew that.

Opening her mouth a few times, she looked down and grumbled to herself. Looking back up sweetly, she apologized, “You know, it probably wasn’t them. I’m sorry for wasting your time.” Then she marched out the door and closed it behind her. 

“I’m sorry I had to have you here. You see, paint was thrown at Y/F/N and she thought you two were the culprits. Do you know why’d she’d think that?”

The both of you shook your heads in disbelief, widening your eyes. “What?” “No way!”

“I thought so. You can leave now,” the Dean motioned to the door. 

“See? Smoke bombs are smart,” you smirked, out of ear range of the Dean’s office.

Intertwining your hands, Jungkook sighed, “What an adventure; First I talked to my pen pal, then you, then back to my pen pal, then you, and then Y/F/N, and then you who was my pen pal all along? Wow, what a story to tell.”

“Yeah, at least we’re both at fault. We both did stupid things.”

“Because we’re both idiots,” Jungkook finished.

“For each other,” you pinched his cheek lovingly, causing him to groan. 

“You’re lucky I love you.”

“As Sarcastic Princess would say, I love me too,” You smiled when he chuckled. “Oh, and I love you, too.”


ITS OVER *wipes tear* I hope this was an okay ending that satisfied you all! Thank you all so much for reading this and leaving such sweet messages and asks. I couldn’t ask for a better bunch of readers.

As for the next pen pal, it’s going to be….*drum rolls* Yoongi’s!!! So all you Yoongi biased (heh me too) be sure to stick around!! Pls, I love making friends.

How did you like it? Any particular parts you loved? Let me know!

I love y’all~

Masterpiece

19.3k words about a shy girl and a rude art student.


Inspiration usually floated to Harry at the most inconvenient of times. He could be sat in the midst of a family reunion and the brightest spark of inspiration would descend on his head and he would have to shove his hands under his thighs to keep them from twitching. He could be at class learning about the uses of electron configuration and he’d imagine the most amazing picture possible in his artistic mind and despite the lingering stares he received from his classmates, he’d shuffle through his bag for colored pens and begin sketching on his pad. The rainbow beamed over his head as he concentrated on the artwork, tongue protruding from the corner of his mouth.

Keep reading

Not So Berry Challenge (TS3)

So you might have heard of this little thing called the Not So Berry Legacy Challenge for The Sims 4. This a conversion of those rules for The Sims 3! You can read the original rules to the challenge here.

Do you like the rainbow? Do you like the idea of playing with berry Sims but hate berry Sims? Do you want to mess around with aspects of the game you’ve never used before? Boy, do I have the challenge for you!

Welcome to the Not So Berry Legacy Challenge, a ten generation legacy with a focus on bright colors and new experiences.

Basic Rules:

  1. Each heir must represent the color of the generation (i.e. hair, makeup, clothing), but brightly colored skin is not necessary (these aren’t actually berry Sims, that’s the joke). This is optional, but it is a big portion of the fun.
  2. The colors of the spouses don’t matter as they aren’t part of the challenge. Unless otherwise stated you can do whatever you please with them.
  3. Every generation is supposed to complete both the career and aspiration of the heir unless explicitly stated otherwise.
  4. Keep the lifespan on normal.
  5. If you play this challenge and want to share it, go ahead and post with #notsoberry so we can see!

My good friend @alwaysimming​ and I created the original version of this challenge for The Sims 4. We wanted to make something that forced us to play with parts of the game we’ve never explored before. I tried to capture that same goal for The Sims 3. All of the generations follow the same theme as they do in TS4, but with a few slight differences to fit the limitations of this game.

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Safe

Part 2 for “I missed you” but can be read alone

Loki x Reader

Genre: Still angst but you and Loki don’t hate each other

Word Count: 1,392

Summary: The dark elves come to Asgard seeking the aethir. Loved ones suffer and you ignore your last encounter with Loki to give him a shoulder to cry on

AN: Well more or less at least 5 people liked the first one so here I go again. Also I had to make a part 2 bc I couldn’t leave hubby Loki alone in his cell. Hope you like it! Feedback is welcomeee


Part 1 “I missed you”

You were reading when your peace was interrupted by the far sound of people yelling and metal clashing. Looking out the large window of what used to be yours and Loki’s room, you saw Thor zoom pass towards where the dungeons were located.

You kept your mind busy to keep it away from Loki; reading, training, even tending to the gardens. Although, your mind seemed to pick activities that reminded you of him. Reading the books Loki used to recommend to you. Training with the same magic Loki and Frigga had taught you. And the gardens. All you could think of was the night he asked to take your hand in marriage, in the gardens, away from the people drinking and laughing inside.

You walked out of the large doors and into the hallway to see Odin and Frigga with the Midgardian girl who had come a few days prior, Jane, her name was. There were soldiers marching behind Odin while they talked and he soon dismissed both women.

Still very much confused, you speed-walked over to Frigga to hear her whisper to Lady Jane, “You must listen very carefully.” With her to reply with a short, “Yes, ma'am”

“My Queen!” You interrupted their conversation for both of them to turn towards you. “May I ask what the problem is? Why the soldiers?”

She hushed you and pulled you and Lady Jane over behind a pillar to continue whispering, “A mere riot in the dungeons. Nothing to worry about, although, precaution must be taken. Go back to your chambers, child. Lock your doors.” She said it calmly, though you could hear the worry in her voice making you assume it was more than just a mere riot.

She pulled Lady Jane away and looked back at you before you started to walk in the opposite direction, back to where your room was located. Your supposed to be short walk was stopped when you heard a large explosion noise and looked out of a nearby window to see Heimdall on top of the beams of the rainbow bridge and several ships flying passed.

Understanding that it is indeed more than just commotion in the dungeons, you started running back to your room to hear more loud explosions and metal clashing.

Before you got the the hallway where your room was located, you saw Thor come through a window and start to walk up to you.

“Where is Jane?” He seemed rushed which worried you further.

“She is with your mother.” Your brain started to scramble and ask several questions. “What’s going on?

"The dark elves, they’ve come seeking the aethir. I must find Jane.” Thor spoke quickly, turning around to walk in the direction of the main hall. “Let me come with you.” You quickly stepped beside him and he stopped to look at you before trying to push you back towards the rooms.

“It is dangerous, Y/N”

You rolled your eyes and continued to try and pry yourself out of his hold. “Thor, I want to help. I’ll be much safer with you and Frigga than I will be alone.” You reasoned and he let out a huff before turning around to walk quickly.

You both reached the main hall to see that Odin had slain the remaining dark elves that now laid scattered all over the throne room. “Thor, you must find Jane.” His powerful voice caught both yours and Thor’s attention and Thor replied with the same thing you had told him earlier causing more worry to etch onto his face.

You and Thor rushed to where you had seen Frigga walk with Odin following behind. You found a large door and opened it far enough to see a large dark elf plunge a sword through Frigga’s back.

“No!” Lightning struck the elf’s face before him and the other elf jumped off the nearby balcony. You were frozen. You didn’t understand what was happening. The next thing you knew, Odin was hugging Frigga’s limp body and you finally started to notice the tears streaming down yours, Thor’s and Odin’s faces.

————

“Y/N!” Your running didn’t falter even after hearing Thor chasing you. You had to tell him. It had to be you. Who else would be there for him? Who else was going to allow him to let down his guard?

You saw two guards cross their spears before warping straight to the other side of the door. You felt yourself get dizzy but continued to move towards the cells. You started to slow down, thinking about what you would say to him but before you could think of how to explain why everyone’s eyes were blood shot, you saw a guard walk past you from where Loki’s cell was located.

No

You waited for him to pass before hearing a loud crash and you started to run again. And there he was.

His cell was scattered; All his furniture in pieces and books were torn and littering the floor, vases were broken causing pieces of glass to stick out all around, probably what caused him to clutch onto his foot where blood was slowly gushing out of. You wanted to hold him, to tell him it was okay. You needed to.

You turned the corner to see the guard who was waiting by his cell door. He stood up when he saw you but you interrupted him, “Let me in.” You said it demandingly. Almost threateningly, which is probably what caused him to raise defense and open his mouth to protest but you had cut him off again.

Please.” You had said softer, holding back the tears that had piled up behind your lids.

He sighed and called two other guards for precaution before allowing you inside. Immediately, Loki jerked his head towards you and your tears slowly fell upon seeing his own.

“What do you want?!” He half-spat, half-sobbed, still on one knee and clutching his foot. His brows were knitted together but also trying their best not to fall and slope sadly. “Tell me how beautiful and at peace she looked? When there is nothing beautiful about being stabbed?” He spoke harshly before looking away and sobbing.

You felt terrible. You knew how much she meant to him, you knew about their last encounter and you knew that he blames every cell in his body for what had happened. And although it seemed like he loathed you right now, you still loved him with your every being, so you walked closer to him and wrapped your arms around his crouching frame, sobbing just as much.

He put his free arm around the arm that came in front of his chest and leaned into you before breaking down blubbering multiple apologies for Gods know what.

I’m sorry.” He sobbed again before nuzzling his face into your body and sobbing some more.

“It’s okay, we’re okay. There’s nothing to apologize for, my love.” You stroked his hair and looked up to keep more tears from falling, trying to be the strong one. His breath steadied a bit before he leaned back to look at your nose, seemingly unable to look at your eyes.

“I have everything to apologize for.” He paused before closing his eyes tightly, a few tears escaping, and then looking back up at you. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there for her… or you. I’m sorry I didn’t love either of you properly. I’m sorry.” He choked out a sob on the last word before hugging you again.

“There is no need to be sorry, Loki.” You closed your eyes too and kissed the top of his head, trying to calm his breathing again. “You were locked up, but you were always there” You pulled his face up before kissing him sweetly on his lips. “And as long as she and I were in your heart, then who’s to say your love was not proper?”

He opened his eyes and looked at you finally before kissing you again. It was slow but only because he was scared of losing you too, just as much as you were scared of losing him. You both held each other in your arms, never wanting to leave, because you know that’s where you don’t need to think about anything else. It’s a place where you’re both wanted and loved, safe. 


People I assumed wanted to be tagged:

@astraothia

@enyacascade

@sherlockfan4life

@hello-i-dont-have-a-name

@dejmccray

@damnlokifangirl

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@elthanin-adhara-black

i’d be a big fat liar if i said i was gonna post one of these everyday, but i’m gonna try and post something pretty regularly from this prompt list to get back into writing more :)

inspired by these brilliant fics by milominderbinder

beginning. accusation. restless. leaves. rainbow. flame. formal. under. move. silver. prepared. knowledge. soft. cans. order. thanks. pink. summer. transformation. tremble. tent. mad. thousand. paper. winter. luxury. letters. promise. simple. future.

thank you sophii for this headcanon <3

[AO3]


Percy hates thunderstorms.

He has since he was a baby. One of his first memories is climbing into his mom’s bed in the middle of the night while thunder shook the sky apart and lightning framed the curtains in his bedroom. He remembers the creak of his mom’s bedroom door, her sleep soft voice full of concern, the warmth of the covers as she wrapped him up next to her.

It’s almost twenty years later and he’s still left trembling at the first flash of lightning. He knows now, logically, the reason behind this. He has stood in front of a god who has threatened to blow him out of the sky, who has held the physical impossibility of a physical lightning bolt in his hand and wielded it towards Percy. He knows that not every thunderstorm is a threat to his life. He knows, he understands, he fucking gets it.

Still doesn’t make the trembling stop.

“Baby?”

Keep reading

3 Billion Dollars [Part 14] - G Dragon Mafia!AU

Originally posted by jaime-mon-amour

Summary: When your father owes 3 billion dollars to the mafia, he must repay his debt. Although things don’t exactly go the way he hoped.

Genre: Fluffy

Warnings: swearing, awkwardness, emotions

{part 1} {part 2} {part 3} {part 4} {part 5} {part 6} {part 7} {part 8} {part 9} {part 10} {part 11} {part 12} {part 13} {part 14} {part 15} {part 16} {part 17} {part 18} {part 19} {part 20} {part 21} {part 22}

Masterlist

A/N: Sorry this is so late. Fair warning, next weeks will be too. Finals are starting next week so I’ll probably be writing a little less until summer starts. I hope you like this part! It’s extremely fluffy! Warning heavy stuff coming up! 

~ Admin Brooklyn

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

Honestly, you almost passed out a few times. Not by seeing blood, but six hours of fixing up wounds and almost doing minor surgery right after the events of the day. Currently, you sat on one of the waiting chairs, just now noticing the blood staining a small part of the floor in the corner. Seungri had left at some point during those six hours. Which left Daesung, who was washing his hands. You close your eyes, beginning to drift away to sleep right then and there.

“(Y/N), you okay?” Daesung asked. You open your eyes right away, nodding your head. You rubbed your eye with the back of your hand and sat up.

“Yeah, just tired,” you say. You run a hand through your hair, your eyes already starting to close on their own. Daesung opened up his phone, scrolling through his messages.

“Hey princess,” he said. You looked up at him. You leaned forward, your elbows resting on your knees. ”Do you think you could check up on Ji Yong Hyung?”

Your eyes widen a bit, starting to feel very underprepared to see him. You open your mouth, about to say something. Only to shut your mouth and give him a small nod. Daesung gives you a very small smile and puts his phone away. “I know (Y/N), you guys need to work things out still. He’ll be easier to handle now than he was when you fixed him.”

“I don’t really know what to say to him though,” you said quietly. You got up from the chair, running a hand through your hair. Daesung opens the door for you, letting you exit the infirmary before him.

“Just say how you feel,” he says, smiling down at you. You shake your head, his smile cause a small one to form on your face. “Honestly, just tell him how you feel.”

“Easier said than done Daesung,”

“True,” he said, nodding his head. “Keep in mind that you do have years of friendship to help you.”

“Yeah but-”

“And,” Daesung said, cutting you off. “I really think you’re underestimating how much he cares about you.”

Your gaze falls to the floor as you walk down the halls, thinking about what Daesung said. Ji Yong only likes you as a friend, right? Well, he hadn’t exactly said that he liked you more. But he did know about your predetermined marriage. Would that change the way he feels about you? He looks down at you and chuckles lightly. “Actually, I know you’re underestimating how much he cares about you. Trust me, if you ask him to move a mountain, he’ll ask which one you want and how fast he should be. He’ll do anything for you princess. That’s for sure.”


Keep reading

chapter lll: cold feet?

summary:  Eddie Kasprak and Richie despise each other, it’s just too bad that they’re anonymously best pals on tumblr. This is gonna be good…

read on ao3!

previous chapter

next chapter

masterlist

i’m want to add a boppin playlist for this fic so please send me songs/playlists you’ve made in dedication to the fic! it will be linked in every chapter (and maybe a sequel???) and we’ll all need some music to cry to after this chapter

a/n: thank you to my amazing beta, who helped me out even though they’re going through some tough times. follow them on tumblr @losvcr <3

also!!! some amazing art was made!!! by @lovscr!!! here’s the art

btw im sorry in advance

It had been a week since Richie agreed to meet up with nervous-plants.

‘Today’s the day.’ Richie thought to himself, while messing around with his guitar before he had to head over to Rainbow Bouquet. He was extremely excited to meet nervous-plants, but he couldn’t help but feel a little worried.

‘What if he’s really a 70 year old man who wants to wear my skin as a jacket?’ and ‘What if he’s a serial killer who wants to stuff my corpse in his closet?!’ were some of the uneasy strings of thought that drifted through his head.

Unfortunately, Richie knew that one of his troubled thoughts was extremely plausible:

‘What if he’s perfectly fine, but he realizes that how pathetic I am?’

Richie had been neglected in his childhood, and as a result of his parent’s disregard, he looked for any circumstance where he could draw attention to himself. That led him to be called “annoying” and “obnoxious” for as long as he could remember. It was a touchy subject for him, to always be known as the detestable and pathetic friend.

It made it even harder when his Eddie knew how pathetic he was.

Richie knew how obvious his kind-of crush on Eddie was. He was attracted to Eds from the moment he saw Eddie carrying boxes into his new store. The problem was that Eddie detested Richie.

Passionately.

Richie had been thrilled when he overheard Eddie’s snarky comments and witty remarks, thinking that they would be best of friends. Turns out, Eddie thought Richie was more repulsive than expected.

As much as it hurt Richie that Eddie didn’t reciprocate his feelings, Richie knew it was for the best. Richie was dead weight. He brought people down, and Richie had come to terms with this.

Richie checked his watch and swore, seeing that he was at least fifteen minutes late, knowing Eddie would be frustrated with him (again).

Richie bolted out of For The Record and skidded into Rainbow Bouquet. He saw Eddie cleaning the windows and let himself smile at the sight of the pink adorned boy on his tiptoes, trying to reach the top of the glass.

Eddie turned around and raised his eyebrow when he saw Richie. Richie stood in front him with his shoulders rolled back and gave him a mock salute.

“Richie Tozier, reporting for duty!”

Eddie folded his arms and popped out his hip. “You’re late.”

Richie rubbed the back of his neck and sheepishly said, “Sorry ‘bout that, shortstack.”

Eddie rolled his eyes, and led Richie over to a group of bonsai trees. “I need you to lightly water them, and groom them.” Eddie passed him a pair of shears. “By the way, I have to check out early today.”

‘Oh, shit.’ Richie thought, thinking of where he needed to be tonight. “But, I need to leave early tonight!”

Eddie just shrugged his shoulders. “I guess we’ll just close early, then.”

As Richie examined the shears in his hands, his curiosity got the best of him. “So… Where are you going tonight?” He inquired, trying to appear nonchalant.

“Oh… Um… I have a… date.” Eddie replied hesitantly.

Richie felt a sharp pang of jealousy strike his stomach and asked, “Seriously, Eds? You have a date? Better alert the newscasters! Now for tonight’s news, the guy who everyone thought would die alone, Eddie Kaspbrak, has a date for the first time in a goddam century!”

Eddie’s relatively calm face twisted up in anger. “Yeah, Rich. Believe it or not, someone who’s as pathetic as me is capable of getting a date.”

Fuck.

Richie’s face immediately fell. “Oh, Eds, I didn’t mean-”

“Just shove it, douchebag. I get that you hate me, but sometimes, you really are too fucking mean.” Eddie mumbled as he walked away.

—–

Eddie was way too anxious. He was already on his fourth time cleaning the counters this afternoon.

He was extremely excited to meet trashmouthrt, but at the same time, he was incredibly nervous. He just kept on thinking about the possible disasters that could happen tonight. It didn’t help that Richie was putting him on edge.

He decided to immerse himself in his work until 5, when he was supposed to get ready to head over to Persephone’s Coffee, and meet trashmouthrt.

Trashmouthrt had told Eddie to bring a pink rose to put on the table, and that he would wear a denim jacket.

It was almost time for Eddie to start getting ready to go, so he decided to check in.

-

nervous-plants

we still good for tonight?

-

The reply was almost instantaneous.

-

trashmouthrt

totally! you getting cold feet?

nervous-plants

definitely not. persephone’s coffee with a pink rose, right?

trashmouthrt

you got it sunshine

-

That nickname gave Eddie a strange feeling. It was like he couldn’t remember something. ‘Who else calls me sunshine?’

Shaking it off, Eddie shouted, “Hey, I’m closing up. Hurry! ” Eddie saw Richie run out of the storage room, holding a denim jacket.

Eddie frowned and started to get a headache. ‘Why am I feeling so much deja vu today?

Richie looked at Eddie and began to say, “Listen Eds, I’m really so-”

“Save it for someone who cares, Tozier. Just get out before I lock you in.”

Richie nodded and walked out the door. Eddie saw him walk down the street to his motorcycle, and drive off.

Eddie pinched his nose and rubbed his tummy a little, because it was hurting from how nervous he was. He finished his routine of reorganizing the plants, flipping the light switch on and off twelve times, and wiping down the counters one last time.

Eddie was just about to walk out the door when he dashed back in the store and grabbed the pink rose.

—-

Richie drove back to his apartment and spruced up a little before checking the time. Knowing that he had five minutes before he had to be at the cafe, he slid on his denim jacket and spritzed on some cologne. He took a deep breath and shook out his limbs before walking out the door.

The ride to the cafe was extremely quick, and it barely gave Richie any time to organize his thoughts.

Once he pulled up at the cafe, he hopped off the bike and prayed a collective prayer to every deity he knew that he didn’t smell like exhaust.

The cafe Richie had chosen to meet nervous-plants at was one of his long time favorites. It was extremely comfy and it gave off a warm, happy vibe. With the fairy lights strung inside and out, he couldn’t help but think of Eddie, knowing that he would appreciate this place. He just hoped that nervous-plants was thinking the same thing.

Richie walked up to the front door of the cafe, closed his eyes and walked in.

Once he was actually in the cafe, he automatically glanced at all of the tables to see if there was one with that was inhabited with a pink rose. Richie almost let out a sigh, but then he saw a table in the corner. It was occupied by a person with their back towards Richie. Richie looked at the table and…

A pink rose.

His stomach jumped and he slowly and hesitantly stepped towards the unknown person, and he started to get an unusual sense of deja vu.

‘That hair looks weirdly familiar. Do I know someone with that shirt?’

That’s when Richie saw the person’s profile, lit up by the warm and soft lights of the cafe.

‘Oh my god. Oh my shit, oh fuck.’

Richie frantically stepped backwards and raced out the door. As he ran, he tripped on the pavement and came down with a slam. He saw his hand bleeding, but he didn’t really feel it.

Richie picked himself up and pushed his hair out of his face. He spotted his motorcycle and sprinted towards it. He revved up his bike and sped down the street. Richie felt tears streaming down his face, getting blown in his hair because of the wind.

Eddie.

—-

Eddie was getting anxious. He had been waiting at Persephone’s Coffee for nearly an hour, and there was no sign of trashmouthrt. He ignored his anxiety, decided to wait a while longer.

‘Maybe there’s traffic.’

The wait turned into two hours. He checked his messages and there was nothing new from trashmouthrt. He sent him a quick message.

-

nervous-plants

hey is everything ok?

-

After that, he began to feel dirty, and wiped down the seats and table with antiseptic wipes.

At three hours, he started to feel dirty again, and he started to clean his already pristine cast and hands with the wipes. 17 minutes after that, the barista came up to Eddie and told him that they were closing up.

Eddie felt tears sting his eyes, but refused to cry. He gathered his stuff with as much dignity as he could; He decided to bring the rose with him too.

Once he was out of the godforsaken cafe and back in his car, he began to cry, sobs wracking his body. He knew he was being indulgent for allowing himself to cry, but after everything building up on him for the past three months, it was this moment that the dam broke and his repressed emotions flooded his mind.

After a couple of minutes, he looked at the blush pink rose resting on the dash and contemplated tearing it up, but instead, kissed it gently with tear blurred vision. He felt the velvet-like softness of the petals against his lips, and for some reason unknown to Eddie, he began to cry harder.

‘I knew it was too good to be true.’

—–

next chapter!


a/n: please don’t kill me


taglist!


@eds-trashmouth@rhubarberous

@loverloserclub @oursanniverse @lostboyrichie

@richietoaster @killerxqueer @be-more-chill-duder @drbagels123 @reddiesballoons @eddiekaspbraklives @eds-trashmouth

@colettoamad @the-awkward-lettuce-turtle @mrsroof-dylann9 @bepbeprichie @eddierichietozier @tkayeis @rheatam @stansmansuris @moopai @jem-carstairs-is-perfection @asteroidbill @appleorangestarfruitwatermelon @fandom-crazy-797 @byewill @petebparker @reddieismygazebo @weasleytriplets @em0tionalgh0st @mzcescapie @frncsfields

@richiestozicr @aesthetic-ranja @losersclubreddie @greywatertrashmouth

@eddie-kaspjack @kaspbrakalackin @carryonmywaywardsoooon @trashmouth-smashmouth @howellhxlic @kaspdrak @octopusorgans @basic-internet-trash @kaspbraak @the-girl-who-loves-frogs @lukemybieber @wintersember @gladerb5 @jake14564 @arizona-in-my-veins @allison0609 @lemonadeandrice @richytozeir @hausofnikyhausofu @hazedlover @gay4daisy @solbrenthimmel @tiny-tea @1ovedu @tastefulcaring @strrranger-beans @0ptimihstic @exceededexpectations @julietissue

keep it. | m

➵ characters: g-dragon x reader
➵ genre: smut
➵ wc: 5140
➵ summary: jiyong shows up with a new hair colour and you’re happy. really happy.
➵ author’s note:this came purely from the weakness i felt when jiyong coloured his hair black after the fxxk it promotions. something about it every time he does has me putty. and this is my first post after at least four months. wow i’m really terrible, if you guys hate me now i don’t blame. but i hope this makes you hate me less. enjoy!
masterlist
disclaimer

JiJi: You’re not at the studio anymore. Where did you go?

You: YG called me in to his office.

JiJi: Is everything okay?

You: Yeah, everything’s fine. Give me a couple more minutes.

From behind you, the door to Hyunsuk’s office creaked open as he entered the room once more after having taken an important call. You scurried to return your phone in your bag just beneath you, watching the man go around his large desk and settle in his seat.

“Sorry about that. So,” he sighed. “Will you be able to just keep Chaerin company on her US tour? You know, just so that she has someone there with her that she trusts.”

“Of course. She’ll be safe with me,” you smiled enthusiastically.

“Great. We’re still deciding on dates, but it’ll be within the next two or three months. We’ll keep you posted.”

You smiled again, nodding respectfully. As Hyunsuk rose from his seat, you quickly followed suit. You said your farewell, ensuring him once more that Chaerin is in secure hands.

“Oh, by any chance, are you going to see Jiyong?”

“Um,” you chuckled nervously, “yes, I believe so.”

“Do tell him he still owes me a dinner for losing that bet… he’ll know what I’m talking about.”

“Yes… sir, I will.”

With one last polite goodbye, you left Hyunsuk be in his office and back to his work. The journey from the grand office back to the floor where most studios were did not take that long, taking just a minute or two to arrive at your destination. You had expected Jiyong to already be there, either waiting for you or deep into his work, but the studio was just as you had left it, empty.

You plonked your bag on the spacious leather in the corner of the room, sitting beside it, allowing one leg to cross over the other. A long sigh was exuded before you let your head fall back onto the sofa’s top, closing your eyes, relishing in the silence. However, it was short lived, as you heard the glass door you had closed reopen, hearing a familiar voice.

“Hmph, that didn’t take long,” Jiyong commented.

“It wasn’t supposed to,” your eyes remained closed. “And YG said something about a bet?” Your head was lifted so you sat up straight, and even though your eyes were now open they still faced downwards to your lap. “That you still owe him dinner?”

“Ha, he’s still going on about that?” he chuckled. “Soon.”

“He called me to ask to go on tour with Chaerin,” your head snapped up. “You know, just to— “

Your facial expression which was once aloof and calm was now very much alert, with surprise becoming the new emotion, and it rendered you speechless.

Jiyong waited for you to complete your sentence, but when you didn’t he scrunched his eyebrows in confusion. “Just to what?”

“You coloured your hair?”

Keep reading

Drunken Confession

Characters: Dean Winchester, Reader (Y/N Y/L/N)

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Word Count: 1.9k-ish

Summary: The Reader confesses to Dean. 

Warnings: None really. Just a bit of fluff :) 

Author’s Note: Hey guys! This is my entry for  @winchester-writes Rose’s Birthday Drinking Challenge!! My prompt: Republic Tequila - “Y'know know, they’re all ‘Well…you gotta drink too.” it’ll be bolded in the fic. I hope you guys like it!!!



Drunken Confession

I’m not that much of a drinker.

Usually, it was Sam and I that had to drag Dean’s drunken ass back to the Impala after he made a complete idiot out of himself in front of the bar’s waitress.

It was never me.

But tonight was different. Especially when the feelings you’ve been harboring deep inside your core for the green eyed Winchester were finally reaching maximum overload.

Keep reading

Journals

Description: Simon and Baz keep journals. 

Words: 1246

For @bloodredblossoms611 who prompted me to write this. (Thank you, it was so much fun to write).

Pining, and some angst. But a very happy ending. I hope everyone likes it! 

September 1st, 2008

T. Basilton Grimm Pitch

I’m only keeping this journal so I can tell my step mum I’m doing it, she thinks that it’ll help me work through my issues. Ha, issues, is that what we’re calling it now?

My roommate is an insufferable drag, the bloody chosen one. He doesn’t look like a chosen one, he doesn’t look like anyone would choose him. My father insists that it’s a good thing, that I have to keep an eye on the Mage’s heir, I don’t know how I’m going to survive.

September 1st, 2008

Simon

The mage thinks I should keep a journal, he thinks it’ll help me with my words. I don’t think I can be helped with my words.

I think my roommate is evil, he’s a Grimm-Pitch, and the Mage tells me that both those families are evil, so how can he not be? He stares at me a lot, he’s probably trying to figure out the neatest way to kill me. He’s a bloody clean-freak.

September 1st, 2009

Simon

I’m back at Watford, I can hardly believe it. I’d started to think that I made it up, that I would never have someplace to call home. I cried a lot, Baz came in and made fun of me. He’s such an arse, always acting like he’s the most important person in the room. Maybe the mage will let me switch this year.

September 1st, 2009

T. Basilton Grimm-Pitch

I came into the room to find Snow crying, he’s such a pathetic excuse for a chosen one. He even invaded my summer, I couldn’t even bloody think of anything else. Simon Snow demands attention, he’s like an elephant stumbling around and destroying everything he touches.

September 1st, 2012

T. Basilton Grimm-Pitch

I can’t believe I still keep a diary, like a bloody preteen girl. I only do it because Daphne somehow knows when I stop.  

Snow is unbearable, it’s just the first day of term and he hasn’t left me alone. Just stared at me, all day. He is no friend to subtlety, doesn’t even try to hide it, what kind of hero is he?

September 1st, 2012

Simon

Baz is up to something, even more so than usual, I’m going to find out what it is. I figure if I never leave him alone he can never do whatever it is that he does. I’m going to figure out what he’s plotting, the old families probably finally decided it was time to get rid of me. I get it now, why I have to be his roommate, I have to keep an eye one him.

October 12th, 2012

T. Basilton Grimm-Pitch

Snow never leaves me alone, I can’t even get 15 minutes to shower without him thinking I’m setting up some elaborate trap. I wish I could bite him, turn him and finally make him feel like I do. Like a villain. My life is fucked up enough without Snow stalking me constantly.

October 20th, 2012

Simon

Baz goes into the catacombs constantly, I’m not sure what he’s doing down there but I doubt it’s something that’s good for me or the Mage or non-evil people in general. I found dead rats, but I don’t know what he’s doing with them. I spend all my time following him, Penny’s starting to get irritated.

December 18th, 2012

T. Basilton Grimm-Pitch

We’re home for Christmas break, and I still feel like I’m going to round a corner and find Snow staring at me. Bloody Snow, I can never be rid of him. He’s probably at the Wellbelove’s, snogging Agatha and pretending to be a happy family. The thought bothers me, it scratches at my stomach. I shouldn’t care, though, Snow is just my stupid roommate. Not my friend, or-

December 19th, 2012

T. Basilton Grimm-Pitch

It’s unbearably early, something I should not be saying on break when Snow’s not here to wake me up with his stumbling. But I had a dream, about Simon. He kissed me, and it was nice, and I didn’t want to bite him (well, not that way). God, this can’t be happening, Snow is unbearable. I hate Snow, more importantly, Snow hates me.

January 3rd, 2012.

T. Basilton Grimm-Place

As if my life wasn’t shit enough without adding ‘in love with his enemy’ to the mix. The term started today, and it’s much worse seeing him, having him be there. I don’t how to act normal, but I’m trying, Not like it matters, Snow will just assume that I’m plotting another way to make his life miserable.

January 3rd, 2012

Simon

Baz is acting strange, for once in his life he hasn’t taken every possible opportunity to make my life miserable. He’s just quiet, I caught him staring at me. Maybe he figures he can lull me into a false sense of security and then strike.

March 15th, 2012

T. Basilton Grimm-Pitch

I don’t know what I’m going to do. Snow won’t leave me alone for one second to try to sort out these feelings. Every time I see him (in class, or our room, or trailing me in the catacombs), I just want to kiss him or bite him. That’s when I’m at my worst, when he’s following me and we’re alone and it would just be so easy to end this, one way or another. I don’t think I’m going to survive.

October 28, 2015

T. Basilton Grimm-Pitch

I feel tired, the Numpties took everything out of me, everything usually reserved for dealing with Snow. I can’t deny that it’s nice, that despite all the pain it causes me it’s nice to see him. He was what I held onto when I felt myself slipping away. He looks at me like I’m about to explode. Even now he keeps glancing up at me over his homework like I’m going to pounce on him (which, maybe I am).

October 28, 2015

Simon

Baz is back, I don’t know how to react. He looks hurt, who could have hurt him? Maybe it was some kind of rite of passage, maybe he’s finally ready to take me out. I should tell him about his mom, or I should look through his stuff to find out where he’s been. I don’t know what I’m going to do.

October 29th, 2015

Simon

I did it, went through his stuff I mean. And I found something, a diary. I read something, and I’m just not sure how to react. I don’t know what’s happening, I just don’t know how to feel about this.

October 29th, 2015

T. Basilton Grimm-Pitch

Snow is acting weird, even more than usual. I think he’s avoiding me, not looking me in the eye. And then he even smiled at me, I’m not sure what I’m supposed to do. But I sure a hell am not letting him suck me into whatever weird drama is going on in his life. I won’t let him do that to me, not now.

October 30th, 2015

Baz

Simon kissed me, he kissed me until my lips were numb, he kissed me all night. I kissed him, I kissed Simon Snow. Simon Snow kissed me, I feel like I’m dreaming, and maybe I am. He kissed me and I can’t even find it in myself to be angry that he went through my stuff.

Wow Baz, you really like to write about me.

Shut up, Snow, and stop reading my journal.

Diary*

I swear to God Snow.

Stabilized

This should go up on AO3 soon and I’ll add the link. I’m still on official hiatus from fic prompts and chapter updates, but I’m writing other things as I have time and inspiration strikes. This was spawned out of a brief conversation about a specific line of dialogue and it was fun to write. It got sappy and I do not apologize.

Stabilized
Gen/Family Bonding
Tim Drake + Bruce Wayne
Rated T for Language
~2500 words

The Batmobile roared into the Cave and the engine cut-off, plunging the bay into silence. Only voices from the medical unit carried over when Batman leapt out of the car.

“How is he?” he called, pulling back his cowl as he hurried up the steps.

“Dazed and a little incoherent,” came Alfred’s reply. “I’m still assessing him now.”

Bruce had been on patrol with Damian when Oracle had informed him over the comm that Tim had been taken back to the cave with a head injury of unspecified severity. Cassandra had found him and then had fallen silent on the comms after letting Oracle know.

He climbed the steps to see Tim perched on the edge of the gurney, a bucket in his hands. It looked freshly rinsed. Cass was sitting on the countertop with her arms wrapped around her folded legs. Alfred was prepping a CT scanner they’d invested in after an earlier nasty head wound.

“Is Robin with you?” Alfred asked, glancing over as Bruce took in the scene.

“He’s with Batgirl,” Bruce said, not taking his eyes off Tim.

“Miss Cassandra might appreciate your help in engaging Master Timothy’s attention.”

“Listen,” Cass said, when Bruce took a step closer to them. Tim had still not noticed his arrival, or if he had, he had given no indication of it. “Tim. Tell me again. Becoming Robin.”

“So,” Tim said, his word slurred. He leaned forward over the bucket and nearly toppled off the gurney. Cass slid forward, a tangle of limbs unfurling and stretching toward him in the same instant Bruce put a hand on Tim’s shoulder and gently pushed him upright again.

“So,” Tim repeated, “you know, you know the first part.”

“Green. Girls. Fast cars,” Cass supplied, weight braced on her hands on the countertop. She held her body aloft, an inch above the surface, by her splayed palms.

Bruce’s heartbeat stuttered, knowing and hating this origin story. He loved Tim but he tried not to think often of why Tim was there.

“Exaaaactly,” Tim said. “Gone. So, B, you know B, he’s a fucking disaster. Like Cass you don’t even know how bad. He was erratic and violent and reclusive like a baby kangaroo. Cass, don’t laugh at me, I’m serious,” Tim’s voice took on a pleading tone and Cass was in fact, giggling behind her hands. She’d dropped back to the counter to cover her face. “Baby kangaroos are dangerous, Cass. They have really strong legs but they hide, too,” Tim sounded near tears.

“Okay,” she said, consoling. Bruce felt like he wasn’t doing much to help other than ensuring Tim wouldn’t topple over, but he was also reluctant to miss the rest of the story from Tim’s perspective.

“He was hiding and I knew where to find him,” Tim said. “I snuck in. Who gives a fuck about rules, not me. I never have. Anyway I found him, and he was all like, ‘What are you doing here, punk? Aren’t you Jack Drake’s kid?’”

Bruce had half-anticipated this part of the story, but he has not anticipated that Tim’s voice would rise to a falsetto while imitating Bruce’s lines instead of dropping to a lower octave. He had to stifle a sudden laugh.

Cass’ eyes were shining and Bruce realized belatedly she’d said “again” earlier. She had wanted him to hear this.

“Then what,” Cass prompted when Tim’s attention began to drift.

“Oh,” Tim said. “Oh yeah. So. So, I found him. And he was angry. But I just told him the truth. I said, ‘bitch, you need some kid to stabilize you, and I guess I have to be it.’”

Bruce, despite his twinges of guilt and amusement, could not actually argue with the truth of this summation.

“I seem to remember more pleading on your end, Master Timothy,” Alfred interjected a bit defensively.

“No, that’s pretty much it,” Bruce said with a wry grin. Cass beamed at him unabashedly.

Tim turned as if surprised and looked up at Bruce standing next to him.

“Hey, bitch,” he said in a sluggish tone. “I mean, Bruce,” he amended without apology.

“Hey, kid,” Bruce said. “They told me you hit your head.”

“That’s stupid,” Tim spit out bitterly. “Something else hit my head, not me. I’m not an idiot.”

“Brick wall,” Cass said.

“That,” Tim said forcefully, pointing a finger at her. “What Rainbow Daughter said.”

“True name,” Cass clarified for Bruce. “Secret.”

“The scanner is ready,” Alfred said. “Master Timothy, if you might lie back?”

“Try and make me,” Tim said. “I can go back out there. I’m fine!”

“Tim,” Bruce said, a little sternly, and Tim sighed and reclined on the bed, still clutching the bucket. “Has he been nauseous?” Bruce asked Alfred.

“No,” Tim answered. “I just like this bucket.”

“Ask him questions,” Alfred said. “Keep him awake, if you might.”

“Favorite dinosaur?” Cass asked before Bruce could think of anything.

“Velociraptor,” Tim answered with a scoffing noise. “What kind of question is that.”

“Movie?” Bruce asked and Cass gave him an alarmed expression. From inside the portable scanner Tim sniffled hard and bit back a sob.

“Dumbo,” he whispered a second later.

“Favorite happy film,” Alfred amended, giving Bruce a severe look. “One must specify.”

Cass added a reproving frown to this, and a nod, as if it was common sense.

Inside the machine, Tim sniffed again and answered in a steadier tone, “No such thing. Is Bruce still there?”

“Yes,” Bruce answered.

“Tell them. There are no happy films,” Tim insisted.

“I’m sure there are some happy films,” Bruce countered slowly, looking to see Alfred’s still disapproving reaction to this concession.

“But you haven’t seen any,” Tim said sourly. “You can’t think of any. Art is misery.”

Bruce, who had been feeling slightly bewildered by his apparently massive misjudgment moments before, knew immediately that this was something he could salvage.

“That isn’t true,” he argued, ignoring the absurdity of disagreeing with a stubborn teenager who had a probably massive concussion. “What about the photo essay on abandoned research labs in Gotham?”

“The one I did for Wired?” Tim asked hesitantly. “Yeah, that was fun.”

In the corner of Bruce’s line of sight, Cass bit her lip to hold back a pleased smile.

“Nikon or Canon?” Bruce asked next, dragging a wheeled stool over to the gurney and sitting down.

“Digital or traditional?” Tim asked, his whole body now otherwise still.

“Both,” Cass said. “I guessed.”

“Canon for digital, Nikon for traditional,” Tim said. “Were you right?”

“Yes,” Cass said quietly, despite having no proof of this. Bruce didn’t doubt her. He himself had been fairly certain.

“Hell yes,” Tim said triumphantly. “Sibs know shit.”

“Sibs know shit,” Cass repeated solemnly, like it was a vow of some kind. For all the weight they gave it, Bruce supposed it might have been.

“I’m gonna sleep,” Tim announced with a yawn. “It’s so cold in here.”

“Tim,” Bruce said, instead of trying to persuade him otherwise. “Which USSR camera model did you prefer?”

“You don’t remember that,” Tim said as if it were obvious fact. “No way.”

“Of course I do,” Bruce said, because he did.

“Zorki-6,” Tim said with a fond sigh.

“Why?” Bruce asked, because he wanted to keep him talking and because he’d always been curious about the antique camera Tim had spent a long spring season taking everywhere. He’d come to Bruce’s office after school most afternoons to sit on the couch and do homework and fiddle with the settings. He’d take pictures from the window, or traipse around the building with the camera, and develop them in the darkroom at the manor afterward instead of going home. But Bruce has never asked– Tim had been skittish about his art then, likely to tuck it away if anyone paid attention.

“Because no one else that I knew had one,” Tim said. “And it smelled like your old briefcase.”

Bruce was so acutely aware of Cass sitting nearby and Alfred beside him overseeing the machine as it powered down that it didn’t take much effort to retain his face’s composure, but there was a moment where it nearly broke in surprise and sentimental warmth.

“Good smell,” Cass said.

“Hell yes,” Tim said again. “One of the best. Like vanilla extract.”

Bruce was frozen on the stool while they discussed this and he exchanged a look with Alfred that told him, without words, that his semblance of facial control was likely a myth.

“Ew,” Cass said. “Bitter.”

“I told you, you can’t taste it,” Tim said. “Extract is gross to taste.”

The machine rolled back and Tim was prone on the bed, still, the small bin wrapped in his arms.

“This is just a cursory glance,” Alfred said, “but I don’t see anything concerning. His heart rate is still a tad elevated.”

A suspicion bloomed in Bruce’s mind and his frozen limbs moved again. He slid the stool down toward Tim’s head and leaned over the bed, looking into the boy’s face.

“Tim. How many shots of espresso did you get in your red eye tonight?”

“Oh,” Tim said, thinking. “Before I fought with the wall.”

“Yes,” Bruce said, a smile quirking one side of his mouth.

“Uh,” Tim said, meeting Bruce’s gaze and then looking down at the bin. “You’re going to be pissed.”

“I won’t be,” Bruce said, promising to himself as much as Tim. “If you tell me, you might get to sleep soon.”

“I’m so tired,” Tim allowed. “Really. Like, it’s been days. Fudge. I’m so tired.”

“C’mon,” Bruce said, and he felt Cass move behind him before he saw her at his elbow.

Cass bent forward and kissed Tim’s forehead.

“You tell,” she said. “Or else.”

“Seven,” Tim whined with a hand over his eyes. “Seven, okay? And maaaaybe a Red Bull. I’m a robin. It gives me wings.”

“Well, that solves that mystery,” Bruce said, sitting up. “Al, mark this one down as a minor concussion and an excess of caffeine consumption.”

“Master Timothy,” Alfred said, aghast. “You ought to know better.”

“I said don’t be mad!” Tim protested.

“Master Bruce made such a promise,” Alfred replied sharply, with worry in his voice. “You will be staying here for a few days, is that understood?”

Tim nodded sullenly and stuck both arms in the air, suddenly, the bin clattering on the floor when it fell.

“Carry me,” he ordered. “I can’t feel my legs.”

Cass reached over and prodded his knee; Tim’s leg jerked away.

“Liar,” she said simply.

“I’m compromised.” Tim jiggled his arms, held out in a zombie-like fashion. “Somebody. I don’t want to sleep in the cave.”

Bruce stood up and slid an arm under Tim’s shoulders and another under his knees. Tim slumped against him, unresisting, as he straightened.

“Night, Timmy,” Cass called from her reclaimed perch on the counter while Alfred muttered under his breath. When Bruce glanced back, she’d scooted down to hug the older man around the neck and Alfred patted her hands.

“How bad is your headache?” Bruce asked as he climbed the steps in the cave.

“Middling,” Tim mumbled against the batsuit Bruce was still wearing.

“And anxiety?” Bruce prompted next, knowing from experience the side effects of that much caffeine. He’d gotten a few stern lectures from Alfred when he hadn’t been much older than Tim.

“Um,” Tim said, “pretty shitty. How’d you know?”

“When was the last time you asked me to carry you?” Bruce questioned in reply. “I think the answer is probably never.”

“I was serious about my legs. They fell asleep,” Tim said, his head still turned against Bruce’s chest as Bruce side-stepped through the narrow door. The boy sounded almost asleep already, but more lucid than earlier. “I didn’t want to fall in front of you guys.”

“Hm,” Bruce said. He rounded the corner and began climbing the second set of stairs. Tim had never, even with muscle, been very heavy.

“I miss you,” Tim mumbled when they reached the top. “I try really hard not to be bitter about Damian, but I miss how things were before. When it was us.”

“Me, too,” Bruce said, knowing he meant it and that no one else was around to hear. He knew Damian would take it the wrong way and was glad he was still out, but he felt the same way about each of them as Robin. He did miss the days when he was out on the rooftops with Tim.

“I know it wouldn’t be the same,” Tim said, as if consoling himself.

“Handle,” Bruce prompted, stopping at the door.

Tim flopped his hand over and swung it wildly around, reaching without looking. When his fingers landed on the knob, he turned and his grip slipped off.

“It’s locked,” he complained. “I don’t know where I left the key.”

“I can kick it open,” Bruce said, considering. “But Alfred might be upset. I could pick the lock. Or we can go down the hall and you can steal my bed for the night.”

“Where would you sleep?” Tim demanded groggily, and Bruce took that as his cue and headed further down the hall.

“The couch in my office,” Bruce said. “Or a guest room.”

“Your bed has good pillows,” Tim mumbled when Bruce worked the knob with his knee and pushed the door open. He carried Tim across the room to the bed and stood there for a moment, then dropped him abruptly onto the comforter.

“Bruce,” Tim complained, laughing. He crawled under the covers until all but the top of his head had disappeared and from under the thick blankets, he sighed.

Bruce sat on the edge of the side table and reached over and ruffled Tim’s hair.

“You did stabilize me, you know,” he said quietly.

“I know,” Tim said in a drifting tone.

“You can’t keep doing this, Tim,” Bruce said when Tim rolled over and pressed his hand against Bruce’s outstretched hand. “Come by my office. Or we can patrol. But you need sleep. And less caffeine.”

Tim nodded and yawned.

“Okay,” he said. “Sorry.”

“You’re a good kid, Tim,” Bruce added. He wished he said it more often.

“You too, bitch,” Tim said, and then he giggled. It sounded young and childish coming from him. “Sorry. Sorry. I mean, thanks. My heart is still going crazy.”

It was Bruce’s turn to yawn.

“You okay?” he asked. “I need to get out of this suit.”

“Mhm,” Tim said. “M’good. Night, Bruce.”

“Goodnight, Tim,” Bruce answered, standing. “Shout if you need something.”

The answer was a soft snore. Bruce closed the door behind him and stopped to pick the lock to Tim’s door on the way down the hall.

It was unlocked.

Bruce grinned.

anonymous asked:

RFA + V + Saeran playing Mario Kart!?!? gimme the angst

holy shit anon u know whats up

Jaehee

  • “Jaehee, we bought that Wii three years ago and we only use it for Netflix. We’re completely neglecting this poor thing.”
  • later in the week when you go to the store, you stop by the game shop too and look at the pre-owned games
  • you came home with Mario Kart and Wii Sports Resort
  • after dinner, you convince her to play some Mario Kart
  • she is so upset that you’ve beaten her all but two games
  • this girl is just like coffee she’s so bitter
  • she knows if you let her win, so you’re stuck beating her
  • “Hey, we’ve been playing for like five hours now. We should probably sleep. We can play more in the morning.” You tell her as you pry the wiimote from her hands
  • after 20 minutes of bickering and “I will go to bed after I redeem myself,” you finally convince her to just go to sleep with you
  • around 4am, you roll over and realize that Jaehee isn’t in bed with you
  • “she must be in the bathroom”
  • the lights are off in the bathroom and you figure she probably isn’t peeing in the dark
  • when you walk out of the bedroom, you hear that music
  • the music that will probably haunt you for the rest of your life
  • “Jaehee it’s 4 in the morning and you’re playing rainbow road are you kidding me”
  • “I’ve almost beat everyone else on medium difficulty!”
  • you walk to the wii and unplug it from the wall
  • “Babe you need to sleep, this isn’t healthy.”
  • basically, she gets pretty upset and you don’t want to get your ass kicked by your girlfriend
  • you eject the disk and get in the car and leave
  • You sleep in the gamestop parking lot for another couple hours and beg them to let you return the game
  • after explaining, the manager takes pity on you and lets you exchange it
  • you buy animal crossing instead and decide to let Jaehee use your old DS
  • she just needs a peaceful game without Waluigi in it

707

  • you should have known
  • you fool
  • you bought the man Mario Kart for Christmas and you really thought things would end okay
  • “MC I SEE THAT BLUE SHELL I SWEAR IF YOU USE IT-”
  • you used the blue shell
  • he was about to win the game but there’s absolutely no recovering from a blue shell when it’s a tight race
  • he dropped the remote and just walked out the front door without saying anything
  • he just kinda sprawled out on the ground outside and screamed
  • when you came out to make sure he was okay, he got up and went inside
  • he locked you out and changed the security gate’s settings
  • you sat outside for a good hour yelling at the house, basically begging for forgiveness
  • when he came out, he apologized for locking you out, then challenged you to another round
  • HE HACKED IT
  • HE HACKED MARIO KART
  • HOW?
  • NOBODY KNOWS
  • WHY?
  • GOOD QUESTION
  • literally every power up that he got came right for you
  • you’re still insanely bitter
  • you probably could benefit from couple’s therapy at this point
  • you’re hung up on how he’s a sore loser and he’s hung up on… being a sore loser
  • you guys don’t play Mario Kart anymore because it just makes life easier if you avoid it

Jumin

  • “What on earth is Mario Kart?”
  • “So… It’s like driving? But? Without any actual dangers? Okay let’s buy it.”
  • you knew damn well what you were getting yourself into
  • but you just had to fucking do it
  • you cackled like a witch the whole time you were setting it up
  • when you called him out to tell him it was set up, you couldn’t stop laughing
  • “Why are you laughing?”
  • oh bby you’ll find out
  • you let him have the big remote and turn on the motion controls so he has to drive like a real car
  • he couldn’t stay on the path
  • “Jumin we’re going at the lowest speed possible. Just take it slow. Baby steps, hon.”
  • he tried to steer his kart with his entire body
  • at one point, he jumped up and put the remote above his head and started bringing it aroooooound town
  • you were laughing so damn hard that he actually beat you
  • you were literally laying on the floor crying and he didn’t understand?
  • why???
  • why were you crying?
  • rainbow road was a freaking blast
  • you still don’t know if it was out of his own frustration towards the game or if it was because he thought you were crying over the game, but after a few hours,
  • he yanked the entire console from the wall
  • and just
  • he went out onto the balcony
  • and threw it
  • you don’t try to get him involved with current technology anymore

Yoosung

  • you stop by a garage sale one Saturday on your way back from class and they’re giving away their old gamecube and some games
  • $15 console and $5 games? Don’t mind if u do
  • you pick up Mario Kart, Super Mario Sunshine, Wind Waker, and Smash Bros. Melee
  • “YOOSUNG BABE GUESS WHAT I BOUGHT”
  • “oh no”
  • ‘”IT’S A GAMECUBE”
  • “oH YES”
  • you sort of stash Sunshine and Wind Waker away for yourself to play when he’s playing LOLOL
  • you two immediately go for Melee, which lasted like three hours
  • there was almost constant screaming and cursing
  • but also a lot of laughing, so at least there was that
  • the neighbors probably filed a report about that
  • after taking a break to lay on the floor and get some water, you pop in Mario Kart
  • the neighbors thought you were bad earlier…
  • the screaming gets louder and the cursing got more frequent
  • “MC I THOUGHT YOU LOVED ME”
  • “I DO LOVE YOU. I JUST ALSO LOVE KICKING YOUR ASS”
  • the two of you lasted maybe twenty minutes
  • any bonding done during Melee was completely undone
  • Yoosung demanded that you take the game back to where you bought it from
  • “Yoosung a garage sale isn’t going to give me a refund.”
  • “They don’t need to give you a refund. They just need to take this terrible game back.”
  • You wrestled for the disc and ended up in the kitchen
  • he pinned you against the counter next to the sink
  • HE THREW THE DISC DOWN THE SINK
  • “YOOSUNG WHAT THE HELL”
  • THE ABSOLUTE MADMAN
  • he turned on the garbage disposal
  • rest in fucking pieces Mario Kart

Zen

  • he just barges in one day after work with a wii in his arms
  • “MC YOU’LL NEVER GUESS WHAT ONE OF MY CASTMATES WANTED TO THROW OUT”
  • “I think I might be able to…..”
  • when you guys sat down to play, you were both vaguely confused
  • “okay but how am I supposed to hold it”
  • “it says to tilt right IM TILTING RIGHT WHY AM I GOING LEFT
  • “where is the gas pedal”
  • rainbow road is never good for anything
  • “wHY do you have so many RED SHEEEEEELSSSAAAAAAAAAAAA
  • y’all left the window open and the fish buns guy heard the screaming
  • he offered you free buns so that you could offer them to Zen as an apology
  • he accepted, but then felt bad because you felt like you had to apologize
  • he apologized
  • after some makeup kisses, you immediately unplugged the wii and put it back in it’s respective box.
  • that wasn’t enough, so you wrote “CURSED” on a piece of paper and taped it to the box
  • Zen said he’d go offer it to someone else at work
  • actually…..
  • you go outside and ask the fish shaped bun man if he would like a wii
  • the fish shaped bun man has a wii at home now and everyone should be happy for him

V

  • The man is blind
  • All is right in the mushroom kingdom and also V has been driving into the same wall since the game started


Saeran

  • you hijack Seven’s WiiU just so that you can show this poor boy the wonders of Mario Kart
  • “why are they letting babies drive motorcycles?”
  • he’s so fascinated by the concept of babies driving that he ends up playing as Baby Peach
  • you play as Baby Mario for aesthetic purposes
  • he pauses the game because the boy forgets to breathe 
  • “Saeran, if this is too intense-”
  • “nO IM FINE LETS GO”
  • every time he falls off the edge of the map, he lets out an assortment of sighs and other noises of that sort
  • “okay, I think I’m finally getting the hang offfffffffFFFFFUUUUUUUCCK”
  • after the first round is over, he calmly places the controller on the seat next to him and stands up
  • he stands up and screams softy
  • “okay let’s try that again”
  • with each round, he gets a little more audible
  • by round 6, he’s yelling 
  • this poor kid hates Luigi
  • “LUIGI DO YOU HAVE A DEATH WISH”
  • every single time Luigi passes him, he screams
  • he thinks that if he plays as Luigi it’ll make him both a better player and also less angry
  • he just ends up hating himself
  • “MC this isn’t fun.”
  • you give Seven his WiiU back and never ask to touch it again
Mission: Impossible Probably Doesn’t Have This Much Gay Panic

aka that ridiculous super tropey cliched jeremwood gta fic i started ages ago and have now finished as a valentine’s gift for @ryanthepowerbottomguy
rating: m for nonspecific dick mention
content warning for bad humor, deliberately vague heist details, and ryan “you can’t catch me gay thoughts” haywood
on ao3
excerpt:

“It just needs another minute.”

“We don’t have a minute,” Ryan says. He presses an ear against the door and shuts his eyes, tense, waiting, mapping out a dozen escape routes in his head. “We have maybe thirty seconds. Does that work?”

“Look, the thing—it says it needs fifty-three seconds, okay, do you want me to argue with the computer?”

“Well, yeah, that’s what Gavin does!”

“He—okay, wait, no? He definitely doesn’t just argue with the computer, what the hell, what exactly do you think Gavin does when he’s—” Jeremy cuts himself off, goes still and quiet when heavy footsteps stop in front of the door.

“Alright,” Ryan murmurs, shifting to move into a better position to intercept the guy when he comes through the door. “I’ll try to take him down quietly and maybe we won’t, uh, no, what are you doing,” he says, bewildered, when Jeremy vaults himself over the desk neatly and starts moving in Ryan’s direction.

“I saw this in a movie once,” Jeremy says seriously, and then he’s grabbing Ryan by the lapels of his ill-fitting suit and hauling him down to kiss him.

Fully. On the mouth. With tongue. It’s a little dirty.

Ryan wants to say he plays it cool.

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SnK Chapter 98 Poll Results

The chapter 98 poll closed with a record 1,771 responses. Thank you to everyone for participating. 

 
RATE THE CHAPTER

(1,711 RESPONSES)

If you disliked this chapter, you were very much in the minority. Only 1% of respondents rated it poorly. Satisfaction with recent Marley chapters have been generally positive, but this is the highest rating since we started the poll.

This chapter was so fire I had to call 911 after I read it

Goddamned life ruining basements.

Sadly, SNK is eventually going to end, and having taken the time to properly explain its unique universe and its characters will that day leave to this world the completed masterpiece it has the potential to be

I gasped during the “I’m Dr. Yeagar’” scene, but I almost threw my phone from excitement from the “Hey, it’s been 4 years huh Reiner.” I was one of the people that thought I wouldn’t care for the young Warriors, but damn, this chapter won me over. Especially Falco. The awesome character building scenes, the mystery behind Tybur & Magath, the attitude’s of the vet Warriors, and Eren’s new shred of awesomeness made this one of my favorite chapters.

Magath is still making me wet with his humanity, Willy needs a hug and some Hellos D, I can’t believe the East Sea Clan is actually a thing (eeeek) and if Falco gets hurt I will die. Also where’s Annie.

I think the entire chapter could be my favorite moment.

Willy and Magath vs Levi for clean house?

When Jaegerbowl became SUPER JAEGER BROTHERS, GET HYPE EVERYBODY

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Tears On Our Tongues

The ride home after the woods

A SnowBaz fic for the Carry On Countdown


Simon

When we get back to the car, we both sit in an extremely awkward silence.  Neither of us seems to know what to do.  After all, that was possibly the most pivotal moment of both of our lives.  Where do we go from here?

           Lips and tears and heat and fire.

           When I turn to nervously look at Baz, he’s staring straight ahead, his jaw set and his brow heavy.  He’s gripping the steering wheel with both hands, but doesn’t make a move to actually start the car.  Rain is beginning to dot the windshield, and I can see my own breath whisper into the air.

           Baz is so tense, like he’s only just fully realizing what has happened.

           Lips and tears and heat and fire.  His lips on mine.

           “Um,” I murmur, breaking the silence, “do you want me to drive?”

           He blinks like he’s snapped out of a daze and takes a breath.  “No,” he says without looking at me, “it’s fine.”  He turns the key in the ignition, and I notice his hands shaking.

           “Baz,” I reach out and touch his arm without thinking. “I’d really prefer if I drove.”

           He doesn’t flinch at my touch like I expect him to.  He just stares at my hand on his skin with an odd expression, like he’s trying to figure out something complicated.  Like he’s thinking how did that get there?

           It’s not looking like he’s going to move, so I open my door and walk around to the driver’s side, and only then does he actually get out of the car.  He doesn’t look at me as he passes, barely brushing me with his coat on the way.

           When we’re both in our seats, I start the car and turn us around, heading back the way we came.  I turn on the heat because it’s freezing in here, but not the music. As much as I want to break the silence, I can’t ignore the fact that this isn’t just the normal we-kissed-what-now kind of awkward.  This is the you-almost-killed-yourself-and-as-a-result-we-kissed kind of awkward, which is slightly heavier than the normal awkward.

           Lips and tears and heat and fire.  His lips on mine.  Tears on our tongues.

           I sneak a glance at him.  He gazes at the window.  Not out, just at.  

           “You okay?”  I know it’s a stupid question, of course he’s not, but I have to ask.

           He shrugs and very slightly shakes his head.

           “I know it sounds dumb,” I say quietly, “but it’ll be alright.  You’ll be okay.”

           He doesn’t look at me.  I’m starting to wonder if he ever will again.

Baz

I nearly killed us. I nearly sent us both up in flames and then had him against a tree snogging the life out of him.  And here he is asking if I’m okay.

           Point for him though, because I’m not.  Of course not.

           Lips and tears and heat and fire.  His lips on mine.  Tears on our tongues.  His mouth, so full of heat.

           I’m not okay, and now I’ve let him see in graphic detail exactly how not-okay I am.  I could not have made myself more vulnerable in front of him, and the thought makes me want to curl into a ball, erase the whole thing, make it never happen.

           Except for the kissing.  That part can stay.

           Even though I have no idea if he meant it.  It might have been a final attempt to pull me out of my suicidal funk.  Even the kisses after the fire was out were probably just pity kisses, albeit very desperate pity kisses.

           “Baz,” he says quietly, and I feel him glance at me, “how long… um, how long had you wanted… that?”

           “Forever.”  It comes out without a thought.

           “Oh.”

           “Since fifth year.”  Both are true.

           Simon thinks for a moment.  “Why didn’t you say anything?”

           “You had enough reason to hate me.”

           “I don’t hate you.”

           “You did.”

           “I always thought you hated me.”

           “I did,” I nod, “until I loved you.”  His head whips to face me and I scrunch my eyes shut.  I can’t believe I just said that.  “Until I didn’t hate you anymore,” I try to fix it, but I know it’s too late.  It’s out, it’s in the air between us, and it’s going to stay there forever, taunting me with how he’ll never say it back.

           “Baz -”

           “Please,” I grit through my teeth, a tear squeezing out of my eye, “I can’t.”  The tear makes its way down my cheek until it drips into my mouth, and the taste is like Simon.  I will probably forever associate the taste of tears with kissing Simon.

           “Okay,” he whispers, and we’re quiet for the rest of the drive.  I try to keep my sobs silent, but I’m sure he’s hearing them,

           I could have killed him.  If he’d died, it would have been my fault.

           Tears on our tongues.

           When we finally pull into my driveway, I climb out of the car as soon as we’ve stopped.  I hear him call after me, but I don’t pause.  I slam the car door and start stalking towards the house.  It’s so over for me.  I thought I was ready to die in the woods?  I hadn’t been kissed by the boy I love who will never love me. How am I supposed to live with that?

           His footsteps on the driveway are quick like he’s running after me.  I keep moving, tears blurring my vision.

           He catches up to me at the doorstep, throwing himself between me and the door, blocking my entry.

           “Get out of the way, Snow,” I mutter, looking down. We’re under the porch light now, he’ll be able to see what a mess I am, and I can’t look at his expression.

           “Baz, please.”

           “Please what?” I snap.  “What do you want?”

           I make the mistake of glancing at his face and I find tears running down his cheeks.

           “I want you to know that you’ll be okay,” he sobs, “and that I want you to be okay.”

           “I nearly killed you, Snow,” I say, shuddering, “how can you possibly want me to be okay?”

           Lips and tears and heat and fire.  His lips on mine.  Tears on our tongues.  His mouth, so full of heat.  Flames licking at my vision.

           “You wouldn’t have,” he shakes his head, “you were going to spell me away, and for some reason, that’s more upsetting than if you’d tried to kill both of us.”

           “What makes you think I would have saved you?”

           “It was in your eyes.”

           Right now his eyes are full of something I don’t recognize.

           He takes my hand tentatively.  “I need you to know something,” he tells me through his sobs, “because you probably think that it was a sympathy kiss.”

           That’s exactly what I’m thinking.

           “Please never think that.  Never think that the first kiss, or any kisses after that were out of sympathy.  I kissed you because I wanted to, a lot more than I realized.”  He sniffles, his eyes pleading.  “I’d kiss you again right now, and tomorrow morning, and every day after that and none of it would be out of sympathy, and I need you to understand that.”

           I’m shaking like a leaf.  Because I’m tense, because I’m cold, because I’m in some kind of shock, because of Simon’s words.

           “You’d kiss me again?” I choke, unable to believe what I’m hearing.

           He goes pink and he’s smiling and crying and laughing all at once, and I finally recognize what’s in his eyes because it’s exactly the same thing as what’s in mine.

           He doesn’t answer with words.  He stands on tiptoe and takes me by the lapels of my ruined suit, pressing his mouth into mine and it fits like we’ve been doing this forever, like it’s second nature.  His lips taste like tears again and I’m certain that the taste of tears will always be bittersweet to me now, a reminder that no matter how bad it gets, Simon Snow kissed me because he wanted to.

           And he would again.  He is right now.

           And he would tomorrow morning, and every day after that.

drawings || Batmom

Requested on Wattpad.

Trigger warning(s); depression (the character isn’t aware of it tho), and mentions of abuse in drawings.

Note; written from Batmom’s (2nd) point of view. There will be no specific details about Batmom’s and her daughter’s looks.


You and Bruce were worried about your daughter lately, she was officially adopted by the both of you a few days ago.

Bruceor Batman, found her when he was on his usual patrol. The poor little girl was wrapped in a dirty blanket, feet bare, her body was full of bruises; her face, her arms, her torso, her feet, and her thighs, as she walked down the street of Gotham.

She was only 8.

When you saw her came out of the Batmobile, your first instinct as a mother was to rush over to her. She flinched at the sight of you, her little hands were clutching on Bruce’s suit as she hid behind his leg.

What you saw in her eyes was the same thing you saw in your other children after their nightmares. Fear. With a glance, you knew what happened to her, what she had to suffer through but you didn’t dare to ask her yet, you wanted her to open up.

You did the thing that you had picked up for years working beside Batman on the field before you decided it was the time to stop. You gave her a smile, offering your hand to her slowly.

“It’s okay,” you remembered saying, looking into the little girl’s eyes. She could practically feel the warmth from you but she made no move yet. “I won’t hurt you, I promise, I will take care of you with this big hero right here.” You nodded towards your husband who was watching the whole time.

Your little trick worked, she took your hand and let you led her to her new room.

But she never talks.

“I don’t know how to talk to her Bruce, what if she is still scared of me?” You carded your fingers through your hair as your other hand was holding a cup of tea.

Your daughter was in her room, you didn’t know what she was doing. When her lunch is over she only gave you a hesitant smile before she rushed up the stairs to her room.

Bruce who was sitting across from you took your smaller hand in his bigger one, “you need to calm down, frustrating over it won’t help.”

Taking a sip of your tea, you slowly calming down. Your husband’s words downing into your head.

“I’m worried Bruce.”

“Talk to her, you can make Damian open up then why not her?” Bruce emphasized the name of his son, causing you to laugh.

“What was that suppose to mean, Wayne?” You punched his bicep before standing up, “I’ll talk to her now.”

When you reached her door, you knocked. She spent most of her time in her room, coming out only to eat, you didn’t send her to school yet since you weren’t sure if she was ready.

The door only opened slightly, an eye was peering through the crack cautiously.

“Hello there.” You smiled down at her before bending down to her level, careful not to make her feel intimidated. “Would you mind if I come in?”

She didn’t answer, she backed away and pulled the door open further silently giving you an invitation to come in.

The first thing you noticed was, the room, it was dim. The only light was from the little gap from the curtains, letting the sunlight to light the room a bit. When you stepped in, you noted the scattered drawings on the floor and the table.

The little girl rushed back to her bed, climbing up before laying herself down meanwhile you picked up one of her drawings, keeping the door open.

The other thing you noticed was the background of her sketches, they were black sometimes grey and the sketches themselves would be drawn with red or white crayon.

You teared up. The drawings were the way she saw the place she used to call home, her parents were drawn as monsters who tried to hurt each other while she was a scared little bunny that tried to stop them. The home itself was drawn as a forest, a dark, gloomy forest which symbolized that she always got lost in her own place, she never felt safe but in her room, her room was drawn as a lot of things, such as garden, bed made of clouds, an igloo, etcetera.

Wiping your teary eyes, you made your way to her. She was scribbling again. You stayed silent though, letting her did what she did until she finished.

A chuckle then fell from your lips when you realized she was drawing Batman, instead of in black, he wore a golden bat-suit with sparkles around him.

The girl pushed herself up to sit on the bed. Her eyes looked up at you curiously, you were still giggling at her drawings until she tugged on your sleeve.

“Oh! Sorry, it’s just cute, drawing my husband with sparkles.” You almost wheezed, “you’re good at drawing!”

Her cheeks flushed red, she had never heard someone compliment her before. In return, she offered you a smile, it wasn’t an awkward one but more genuine.

“Can I ask you something?”

She hesitantly nodded.

“Do you hate me?”

She shook her head frantically, reaching for the papers on her nightstand before showing one of them to you.

You were drawn as an angel, cliché really but it was really cute. She made the wings with glitters. “Is this me?”

She nodded again, making a few hand gestures which caused your eyes to widen. You are the kindest woman I have ever met.”

“Thank you,” you whispered, you let the next three words slip from your mouth carefully as you used your hands just to make some signs. “Are you…mute?”

She shook her head no then began to make another hand gestures. I’m not but I prefer not to talk with my voice, my-she paused, “she—never liked it when I talk so I learned sign language, I soon get used to it.” She corrected herself.

“I’m sorry but you are safe now, I won’t let anything happen to you. Not anymore.” You promised. “But I want you to tell me everything so I can help you. You don’t have to do it now, I won’t force you.”

They told me I’m an unwanted child, my mom wasn’t supposed to be pregnant. They are not married yet, they raised me without their parents knowing. I was sad, I didn’t know what to do,  y chest felt tight and I couldn’t stop thinking about the things that caused me to be sad.”

You kept silent, she was at the age where she supposed to be happy, playing with her friends. But there she was, talking to you like an adult would, she had a mature mind which reminded you of Damian. You then reached to place your hand gently on her back, a gesture you always find comforting when you didn’t want to be hugged.

They always told me to die, to go away, they would scream at me and called me names. Then they decided that they were bored with me and threw me away by telling me that we were going to meet my grandparents before leaving me in a harbor--

She stopped as soon as she heard your chocked sob, your tears were running down freely, she was depressed but she didn’t know it. She wasn’t aware of what depression was, she didn’t know why she kept locking herself in her room, making it her safe space.

“I’m sorry.” You muttered, throwing your arms around her when you couldn’t take it anymore. “Please call me mommy from now on.”

You felt her shorter arms slowly went around your torso, her shoulders shook as you felt your shirt dampened. She started to pull away but you kept her there, whispering to her that it was okay to cry.

You stayed like that for what felt like minutes but it had been almost an hour and a half. Your husband made his way into the room after knocking only to find the newest member of your family curled beside you as she slept.

Bruce silently walking towards the bed, “how is she?” He asked quietly.

“She’s alright now.” You whispered, the bed dipped down as he sat on the edge of the bed, right by your side. “Bruce?”

“Yes?”

“Check the papers on the nightstand.”

Bruce did as he was told, finding the drawing of sparkling, golden Batman right on the first paper.

“Golden Batman? Is this a rainbow?” Still whispering, he pointed to the colorful stripes behind the golden Batman’s head.

You bit your lip a little hard to hold back a sharp wheeze, you knew that his reaction would be like that. He always thought that kids, even adults, saw him as a scary, big, bulky man, not a man who wore a golden, sparkling bat-suit with a rainbow behind him as a background.

“You’re the hero and I’m the angel, apparently.” You saw him nod as he went through the other papers. The soft rustling was slowly lulling you to sleep, the sound was weirdly soothing. “Lay beside her dear, I want her to wake up knowing she’s safe.”

You couldn’t make out what he was saying because you were fast asleep next to your little daughter, excited to introduce her to her brothers she hadn’t meet them…yet.

;;

I don’t wike it, pardon me for grammar errors. I’m not…a native English speaker nor writer(?) if you catch my drift XD

Zico - Bad Influence

Originally posted by ygnj

“He’s a bad influence.”

That was what everyone had been saying about him. 

To some extent you could understand why your family would think about him like that. His entire life was covered by the media and it wasn’t always rainbows and unicorns. He had made some grave mistakes in the past, as we all do, however, his mistakes were published for the whole world to see. And there was not one second the public let him forget about it or move on. In addition to that he was known to be a party animal. It didn’t leave the best impression on your parents. So you didn’t hold it against them, that they weren’t too fond of him.

However, your friends who were supposed to be on your side also only had bad things to say about him. Apparently you had changed ever since you started dating him. According to them you had changed to the worse and were setting wrong priorities. So naturally you began to see them less often, as you were sick of always being criticized. You began to spend more and more time with your boyfriend and his group of friends whom you really grew to like.

Zico knew your friends weren’t the biggest fans of him and truthfully he didn’t like them very much either. But he knew you cared about them a lot and seeing you distancing yourself from them, made him wonder whether what they said about him was true.
Usually these things wouldn’t affect him. After all he was used to it. His instagram account was spammed with hate messages and death threats. It didn’t seize him, he had grown a thick skin from it.
 But with you it was different. He was in constant worry you would wake up someday and decide he wasn’t worth your time anymore. It was like your friends had planted a parasite in his head and it began to eat him up. He did notice a few changes in you.
You went out a lot more often. You drank a lot more often too. And you skipped class to see him.
 Did you do all of that because of him?

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