now here they can be something more

I smell something that smells like mackerel.
When I was standing next to the training camp pool, I definitely sensed that smell.
Mikoshiba-bucho said it was probably the mackerel from the mackerel curry we were having for lunch but, when you seriously think about it there’s no way the smell from the kitchen would reach all the way into the closed airspace of the indoor pool.
What I sensed was something else completely different. No, actually it wasn’t a smell, it was more like a presence. It was his presence. Haru’s presence…
Ah, It’s so irritating. When I think of Haru, my heart speeds up and I can’t keep calm.
But, there’s no way that Haru would be close by, here and now.
This isn’t Iwatobi city or Samezuka Academy. It’s a training camp on an island some kilometers away from Iwatobi.
And yet I can feel his presence. I can smell him. Is it just my imagination? Am I that caught up in Haru?
I’ll see him at the prefectoral tournament.
When I happened to run into him at the sports shop I told him that.


“You will swim for me.”
You say you only swim free? That doesn’t matter. I won’t allow you to be free. You will swim for me. In order for me to become stronger, in order for me to get to the world level.
That’s why until the prefectoral tournament, I must only focus on my training. So then why is this mackerel smell throwing me into disarray. I don’t get it. It’s just irritating me for no reason.
Since my nerves were were going crazy at the poolside, a guy named Nitori carelessly talked to me.
“Matsuoka-senpai, do you like mackerel?”
“Shut up”
I spat at him and jumped into the pool.”
The lukewarm water of the indoor pool wrapped around my body.
It’s so tepid. It shouldn’t be like this. What I’m seeking is something… more… something much hotter. I need the roar of a soul so hot it would make the pool’s water boil. And then I will dry Haru out with it. I’ll leave him so there’s not even one drop of water left in him, I’ll leave him like dinosaur bones buried in the desert.
I definitely won’t lose to Haru. Dolphins eat Mackerel. And then sharks eat dolphins. It’s my destiny to tear him to shreds and eat him.

After afternoon practice was over, I went out for my free time.

Sticker Star Log: Day 1. I’ve barely started, don’t hate it yet.

that’s right, folks! i’m just now starting my very first playthrough of Paper Mario: Sticker Star. i’ll be keeping a log here just to try something new, so y’all can follow along as i trek through the series’ most infamous entry yet!

Day 1: I don’t hate this game yet. I’ve just unfurled the plaza in Decalburg and will set out to adventure some more later on. Decalburg, the hub, is passable, although much more barren compared to the other games’ hub areas. As for characters, Kersti isn’t so bad, but I can see how she can be a bit of a pain later on (her introduction was also kind of rough, and the bit of exposition about the Royal Stickers felt kind of meh to me). The Toads are also fairly witty yet I do not hold out hopes to see many more unique characters down the road. Rescuing the Toads at the beginning was a bit of a pain though not nearly as bad as any of the Toad missions from Paper Jam. I’m skeptical of the battle system, which I will be sure to detail once I have more experience with it.

So LaTale is a pretty significant MMO for me. I made a lot of friends there, and learned a lot about the game, had a lot of fun. and maybe even learned things about life from the variety of people in the game.

One of the biggest things however, is that LaTale’s community motivated me to get into art more, and enjoy it too. The artists I met and resources i got from them helped set me on the path to actually learning how to draw. A path i plan to continue for my love of it.

While my art now may not be groundbreaking and can still arguably be considered beginner still… the limits of my art was once barely even stick figures and blobs. Compared to that, i never thought i’d even reach this point. So, I owe something to LaTale and all the friends i made from it. 

Here’s just a FRACTION of all the friends i met and got to know in my 8 or so years of playing before OGP shut down its servers. I wanted to add more but I cut the number down to get this on OGP’s forums before they shut down. To those who’s references i got and wasn’t able to add, I’m sorry, but i still plan to draw many of you over the next few weeks with less of a deadline.

Thanks all you guys. For making the game fun for me. <3

what's a fire and how does it - what's the word? - burn

so i have this disney playlist i listen to usually when i’m driving and i was blasting poor unfortunate souls this morning and i was thinking

what if ariel didn’t sign the scroll?

because she’s about to, okay, and she looks at the paper. the parchment made of seaweed, the ones that’s specially treated to survive underwater. and she thinks of her cave of treasures, her books that remain perfectly preserved underwater. “no thank you,” she says slowly, becoming keenly aware of air of this place, of the not-people she’d seen who hadn’t been able to pay the price for sea witch’s bargain. “i – no. thank you. but no.”

ursula tries to convince her otherwise, but ariel runs. she goes back to her cave, destroyed as it was by her father’s anger, and thinks.

she’s the daughter of triton. her books never got wet, though she lives in the ocean. she feels a pull inside her, to the land, to somewhere else, but what if – what if –

what if she doesn’t need the sea witch or her father to perform magic for her? what if she has her own?

ursula had wanted her voice because that’s how she performed her magic. singing in this cave had given it powers and protection, and when she saved her prince from the sea – she sang then too, to keep him safe, to guide him back to life and away from death.

so she has magic. she only needs to figure out how to use it.

so that’s what ariel does now. she’s quiet and keeps to herself, and her father and sisters think that it’s because she’s upset with her father, that she’s busy licking her wounds. she’s moved on from that. she has no trident, and is uninterested with fueling her magic with the souls of the damned like ursula has. so she needs to figure something else out.

she does what she’s not supposed to do, and goes where she’s not supposed to go, slipping past the guards and patrols to the one place in the sea that is forbidden to all of them.

the crevice in the earth where what remains of her grandmother lives.

ariel goes to amphitrite, and the sea goddess is so much bigger than ariel, the size of great whale as she curls at the bottom of the sea floor, too old and too tired to do anything more than sleep. “granddaughter,” the great being croaks, opening an eye as blue and as unfathomable as the sea, “you look like me.”

“they say i look like my mother,” she says, and to herself adds: that’s why father can barely stand to look at me.

“you have more of me in you than your mother,” she says, and she shifts and pulls her mass of red hair over her shoulder. “more of me in you than your father does, even.”

“i have magic,” she says, pulling her bravery to the fore as she swims closer to her grandmother, “i want you to teach me how to use it.” amphitrite pushes herself up, and it’s the first time she’s moved in a millennia, and ariel notices for the first time that her grandmother isn’t a mermaid – she has legs.

she has legs.

“you have power,” amphitrite corrects fiercely, “and i will teach you to wield it.”

and so she does. ariel spends her nights by her grandmother, learning to harness the power of the sea that runs in her veins, and sleeps her days away while her sisters and flounder and sebastian grow more and more concerned, but she refuses to tell them why. she refuses to be stopped.

but her heart still aches. she fell in love with her prince, and she wants him still. so she swims to the edge, goes to the beach where his castle resides in the dead of night when her lessons with her grandmother are complete, and sings

. she’s careful not to let any magic leak through, only her voice. she does not want to enchant him. she wants him to love her as she is. so she sings, her voice clear and powerful and cutting through the air. she hopes he can hear it.

then one day a figure walks to the beach, and it’s him, her prince. “hello?” he calls out, “are you out there? are you – please, it was you that saved me, wasn’t it? won’t you come out and let me see you?”

so she does, waves her tail at him until he catches sight of her and takes hesitant, disbelieving steps closer.

“you’re a mermaid,” he says, eyes wide, “i thought i saw – but it couldn’t be.”

“i am, and it can,” she says, heart beating wildly in her chest. he’s just as handsome as she remembered, and she wants him just as much. “my name is ariel.”

“ariel,” he repeats, and pulls off his boots and goes wading into the water, watching her to see if she flinches away from him. she doesn’t, and his strides grow bolder. “my name is eric.”

“eric,” she whispers, and when he’s close enough he touches her, trailing fingers across the bare skin of her shoulder and tangling them in her hair.

when he kisses her, she feels powerful enough to undo the world.

so there’s that now, spending her nights with her grandmother and her prince, and she knows how to make her own legs now, could walk onto land and be made a queen among the two legged men.

but she’s a princess here first, and before she can do that she needs to take care of something.

ursula.

the rotten sea witch with her rotten sea magic won’t be allowed to torment her people any longer.

she tells her grandmother, and amphitrite smiles and says, “an excellent decision, child. i’ve enjoyed our time together, but i think it’s time for me to sleep once more. i’ve taught you everything i can.”

and tears prick ariel’s eyes, but she holds them back. she knew that it couldn’t be forever, that her grandmother can’t die but no longer desires to live and this is the in-between.

“you’ll be an amazing queen,” amphitrite murmurs, and closes her eyes for a millennia more.

this isn’t something to be done in the dead of night, although it would be easier to do it then.

she will make a spectacle of it, she will remind the sea that her people are not to be trifled with.

once upon a time they feared a blue eyed, red haired sea queen with the power to destroy them all. it’s time for them to do so again.

so she drives ursula to the center of the city. her sisters cower and people hide, and her father comes rushing forward to save her.

“you’ve committed great crimes against my people,” she says, not flinching as lightning gathers in the sea witch’s hands, “so now shall a great crime be committed against you.”

“foolish girl,” the sea witch snarls.

triton is yelling. he won’t get there in time.

he doesn’t have to.

she doesn’t need to sing anymore. instead she lifts her hands and pulls ursula apart without ever touching her, not only renders flesh from bone but also sets free the souls she’s been hoarding, reverses the magic done to those who’d fallen into the sea witch’s trap.

they all stare at her, her people, her father, and her sisters. she looks to triton and says, “i’m not a little girl anymore.”

he opens his mouth, closes it again, then says, “i can see that.”

all at once everyone’s perceptions are turned sideways about their youngest princess. she commands a power that even her father doesn’t have access to, she’s not depressed and dreamy – she’s powerful young woman who knows exactly what she’s doing.

so she does what she wanted to do, she gives herself legs and steps onto the sand and launches herself into eric’s arms. she becomes his bride, and the rumors run rampant of what she is, of where she came from, but they can’t prove anything and so they rule.

they live long, happy lives. ariel is his consort, his advisor, his wife, his tactician, and his best friend. all those years reading drowned books have certainly paid off. she ages herself along with her husband, bears his children and then teaches them they ways of her – their – people.

her husband dies, and she disappears, like the stories of selkie women that everyone whispers around her. their children give their father a sea burial, and vow to see him again one day. what they know and none of their subjects do is this – their father’s body isn’t in that casket.

she returns to her ocean, her legs form into her glittering green tail, and she goes home. she uses her terribly powerful magic, and brings her husband with her. she went from princess ariel of the sea to queen ariel of the land, and now she’s back again.

she’s not quite a teenager, but neither is she the old woman she pretended to be on land. she’s returned her and her husband to the prime of their life, and as she gained legs to be with him, he now gives his up to be with her.

eric becomes a merman, and a prince by virtue of being ariel’s husband.

she returns to her family and her world without missing a beat, and they all welcome her as if she never left, treat her husband with kindness and respect.

because they all know.

it doesn’t matter that she’s the youngest. when, far in the future, triton’s reign ends –

ariel’s reign will begin.

I propose anyone who claims a specific job doesn’t deserve a living wage doesn’t get to utilize those services anymore.

You think working fast food justifies struggling to survive?
You don’t get to eat fast food anymore.

You think cashiers and baggers don’t deserve to be able to provide for themselves and their families?
Looks like you’re using self-checkout from here on, even now that you’ll be buying a lot more groceries, since you’ll be cooking everything at home, since you can’t eat fast food anymore.

And you can count out eating at regular restaurants too, because those waiters and waitresses don’t even make the regular MINIMUM wage, and rely on tips to make up the difference, and are lucky if your cheap ass even tips the suggested amount.

Going into pretty much any clothing or beauty store and have an important question about something?
Tough shit. You’re now blocked off from communicating in any way with retail workers.
You can’t even get the things you need from the shelf - you have to dig through a special section of boxes that came straight from delivery, because the products don’t walk to the shelves themselves.

Minimum wage workers run a whole hell of a lot of the conveniences you probably count on.
If you, and others, so heavily rely on the people doing these jobs, why THE FUCK do you think they don’t deserve a living wage for doing them?

New Quotes From the New Map When You Look Through the Telescope.

Genji: I will never look at tsukimi the same way again…


Mcree: Really gives you a perspective on the world, what’s going on down there…agh..I need a drink.



Pharah: It all looks so peaceful from up here…



Reaper: The view’s not bad..



Soldier 76: Earth…I’ve gone through a lot for you..I hope you appreciate it.



Sombra: That’s something you don’t see every day..



Tracer: Wow…I think I understand what Winston felt like, now…looking back at the Earth from ‘ere..



Bastion: silence 



Hanzo: The concerns of my life seem so..distant from up here..



Junkrat: I think I can see my trailer from up here! (or) Really makes you think..doesn’t it?



Mei: Our world is worth fighting for…



Torbjorn: Well..the view’s not bad..


Widowmaker: Eheh…a bit more powerful than my scope…


D.Va: Wow..the view is amazing!


Orisa: i wish Efi could be here…perhaps someday..


Reinhardt: It all looks so SMALL from up here!


Roadhog: Well..okay then..


Winston: The first day or so,we all pointed to our countries.The third or fourth day, we were pointing to our continents, by the fifth day…we were aware of only one Earth.


Zarya: “After flying around Earth on a satellite, I witnessed how beautiful our planet is. People, let us save and multiply it’s beauty, not destroy it.” A quote from Yuri Gagarin, the Russian cosmonaut and first human in space.


Ana: It’s not bad..but it’s also not Hawaii.


Lucio: I never thought I’d see the world like this..


Mercy: It all seems so peaceful from up here..


Symmetra: (sigh) From here, it all looks to be so orderly and peaceful..


Zenyatta: the damage doesn’t look as bad from up here…

hey guys! i’ve noticed lately that a lot of gifsets/edits of moana, especially pastel ones, have been whitewashing her skin, and i know that this isn’t just a problem in moana gifs, so i thought it might be a good idea to make a comprehensive guide on how to avoid whitewashing poc/color poc in general. this guide will be split into three parts: vibrant gifs, pastel gifs, and dark gifs (any of the tips i give for gifs can be applied to edits as well – it’s even easier to avoid whitewashing poc in edits, because you can color it normally and then erase the lightening layers over the person’s skin).

so, without any further ado, here we go!

Keep reading

4

LET’S DO THISSSS!!!
I’m going to SG 2 weeks from now and I really need the money so I’ve decided to do commissions!!
I’m open for 10 slots as of now! I will update if ever I can do more before going abroad!

Here is my complete commission info! 

Thank you so much for taking an interest and y'all are so amazingggg!!

nope we’re not done with shukita self-indulgence LOL

here’s some incoming angst AHAHA end me

(delete later)

Sometimes John and Sherlock accidentally talk all night.

Like maybe the intention to go to sleep at a normal time was there, but then they get distracted.

11 PM: They finish the movie and it just naturally feels like time for bed. Teeth are cleaned, doors are locked, and they settle in between the sheets, and damn is the bed comfortable compared to the haphazard dog pile of limbs they had gotten into on the sofa.

“What did you think of the film?”

“Nice; very enjoyable.”

“Did I tell you it was my favorite when I was a kid?”

“No. Really?”

“Yeah. Would watch it on repeat.”

“Interesting. But it’s no longer your favorite?”

“Right. I dunno- I still love it, but not in the same way.”

“I understand. Your favorite now is that one Bond, um…Die Another Day?”

“Yeah.” John gives Sherlock a small, soft smile. He looks almost bewitched.

“What’s that look for?”

“It’s for you. ”

“Yes, but why?”

“Because it’s really nice to have someone remember things like that about me.”

1 AM: The discussion has shifted to favorites, and why they’re favorites.

“So you would rather listen to that same Rolling Stones album again and again for eternity than ever even trying something like Debussey?”

“Correct.”

“Alright, well, now I know.”

“You know what?”

“That we’re breaking up.”

They laugh.

2 AM: …and now they’re just naming things they like.

John: “Long car journeys”

Sherlock: “The smell of coffee.”

“You hate coffee.”

“I hate the taste of coffee.”

“You are a complex being.”

“Thank you.”

They laugh some more.

John: “Rainy mornings that last all day.”

“Me too.”

“I didn’t know that.”

“They’re lovely.”

“Why’s that?”

Sherlock fidgets with his lips, trying to figure out how to phrase his answer.

“Because you always wake me very…pleasantly… and often you continue waking me pleasantly for most of the morning…afternoon…even into the evening sometimes.”

“Do I? When it’s raining?”

“Yes. Not every time, but under a certain set of conditions I can, for the most part, look at the forecast for the morning the night before and know in advance whether or not I’ll be getting anything done the next day.”

John looks back at him, a concoction of surprise, then near embarrassment, then a sly smile.

“Interesting, see, I find that I get one thing in particular done consistently on those days.”

Sherlock snorts.

4 AM: The topic has shifted between worst hangover stories and crazy uni memories to some more difficult things, like John’s time in the service, and Sherlock’s addiction.

“We’ve sort of been dealt a few tough hands eh?”

“Truly.”

“Makes me want to take you away somewhere and just be relaxed for a bit.”

“I would agree to that in an instant.”

“Yeah? Let’s do that, then.”

“Fantastic idea!”

“I do get them on occasion.”

More laughter.

5 AM:

John is trying to work in to the concersation something he’s been wanting Sherlock to know for a long time. It’s difficult, though- he’s never really said anything like this- anything so personal.

“It says a lot about you, I think, that I can do things like this- stay awake all night, not having to be overwhelmed or rampant. You balance me, John.”

“Yeah..yeah I- I know what you mean. You also- I mean, you sort of…I don’t dread…my life to come…anymore. I used to think of all the days and years I had left to endure, wonder how I would fill them, hoping I could find something that wouldn’t feel so miserable, something to settle for, but you- fuck, Sherlock, I think back to that now and it feels like a horrible nightmare. I’m…more than just glad, to have found you. You- damn, this is hard, I-”

Sherlock ties his fingers with John’s and moves even closer.

"Take your time. No rush. No pressure. Anything you want to tell me, you can. You’re safe here.”

"I suppose…You umm…you made me rethink- my plans, for me, yes. But not only that, you also showed me a way of living so different from what I had known, so much better and full of richness, I look back at those days where I no longer wanted to be alive and think -it’s probably because I wasn’t alive. I had every responsibility and felt every drawback of life but was denied any of the good stuff. You showed me so much more than I ever knew was out there- you sort of saved my life by…showing me how to live it? That’s so cheesy, I-”

And now Sherlock is crying. So John starts crying.

6 AM: they’ve got themselves together by now and moved on to something a little lighter.

"Right…so, you mean to tell me that James Moriarty, criminal mastermind, scary man with an affinity for the latest in explosive fashion, still sleeps with a teddy bear?”

"Precisely.”

"How did you figure that one out?”

"It took a few-visits- to piece it together, mostly because I was in disbelief myself, but he shows signs of a stiff neck as if he sleeps in an extremely bent position with one arm hooked partially under himself, likely around a small item. Persistence of this soreness shows that he didn’t just sleep wrong once, he makes a habit of this position. But what really sealed the realization was the right thumbnail. Much shorter than all the others, wrinkled texture, dry skin around the edges where the rest of his finers are immaculately manicured. Exposed to moisture for long periods of time.”

"No fuckin way!”

"Oh yes. He sucks his thumb. What a terrifying creature.”

Hysterical laughter.

"I’m always curious what you could tell about me right away and what took you a bit longer.”

That’s a dangerous path John- not everyone wants to know what others can tell about them.”

"Yeah but I’m just tired enough to ask anyway.”

"Well, all the things I pointed out at Bart’s…then more and more about your childhood based on your dating habits…around a month after we moved in I had narrowed down the approximate size of your…tyre lever…”

"Really?”

"Well…I had underestimated, to be honest. Your stature is misleading, as I’m sure you know.”-

"So, that is to say, you were-”

"Incredibly anxious and then surprised in the best possible way.”

"I was going for ‘not disappointed’, but alright.”

"Not in the slightest. My God, not even a little. In fact, what’s the opposite of disappointed?”

"Satisfied?”

"More than.”

"Sated?”

"Never.”

7 AM: Talking has ceased. The sun seeps in at the sides of the drapes, pale and gray. It’s a bit chilly, but neither know- it’s aafe and warm in the bubble of their room.

Neither sleep until around noon, after tea and toast in bed- the rain hits the roof in steady droves, tapping occasionally at the window if the wind blows a certain way.

Sherlock gets absolutely no work done.
What’s up, it’s Alexei!

When Ngozi posted this picture yesterday of young post-draft Tater “trying his darnedest to answer press questions in English,” I thought, “You know, I could make a play fic out of that.” Which is what led to the following 2700+ words about Tater and his ESL tutor.

Many, many thanks to @ktheunready for being my Russian authenticity consultant and beta!


Georgia Martin stood at the back of the media scrum and watched Alexei Mashkov stumble his way through his post-draft interview, saw the way his fingers kneaded the brim of the brand-new Falconers’ cap he’d been handed for the initial official photos, saw the way his eyes widened and stayed intently glued to whoever was asking him a question, like he was afraid he’d miss some key bit of meaning if he blinked.

She pulled out her phone and made a call.

***

«No, Mama, I promise, my room is very nice. The family is very nice. Everything is very…»

«Let me guess, nice? »

Alexei sighed. «Yes.»

«You know I don’t doubt you, right, Alyosha? I’m not worried you can’t do this. You will be fine. But I know this is your first time to live in another country, with none of the boys from your teams here. It can be… hard, sometimes. I know.»

«Yeah, Mama, I know. You told me.»

«Are you telling me you’ve heard the stories of my youth too many times?» she asked in mock outrage.

«No, no!» he laughed. «Of course not.»

«Good. I should think not.» He could picture her face exactly, and it made him smile. «I’m glad your host family seems nice, Alyosha. I’m sure you will have many friends in no time.»

He flopped back on the bed again and stared at the ceiling. «I hope so.»

«We’ll talk again soon. Love you, son.»

«Love you, too.»

He hung up and let his phone rest on his chest. He’d been to America before. He’d thought he’d known what it would be like, that it wouldn’t be so bad. Different, yes, but there would be so many interesting new things to see, and new teammates, and he certainly knew how to play hockey. What he had failed to take into account, apparently, was how exhausting it was to try to function in English all day. For a US hockey team, the Falconers’ roster was shockingly low on Russian players, so his host family was one of the French Canadian ones. To their credit, they did speak some Russian, but it was hardly enough to have a real conversation. Alexei felt like he’d been practically mute all day.

Keep reading

Mouth o’ Mine

Harry X Reader: Angst, smut

In which Harry’s no good with his words but he sure is good with his mouth.

Request? Yes:

some harry face sitting action maybe?

Author’s note: This is a continuation of “Mess o’ Mine.” I would suggest reading that first, if you haven’t already. I thought this was gonna be the end but then I fucked up so… there’s also a part 3. Hope you enjoy! I did!

Part 1: Mess o’ Mine // Part 3: Mind o’ Mine


You’ve been running through the events that have occurred, confused at the escalation and the outcome. No issues have been resolved, and there wasn’t really a conversation or discussion. You don’t know any more than you did when you heard Harry singing your poems. Has he used your writing in more songs on his album?  Has he read your whole journal? God, you hope not. One poem is bad enough.

Harry hasn’t been around, hasn’t tried calling for the two weeks since he showed up on your doorstep. You’ve flipped the channel whenever he shows up on your television and scrolled at record speed when he’s popped up on your social media feeds. Maybe you should feel relieved and cleansed of his toxicity, but you don’t. Instead, you feel a little broken, like your stomach is splintering into pieces, and your mind still feels split open. Not only that, but you can smell him, feel the weight of him on top of you, taste the foreign flavor of his mouth. This isn’t what you need.

A whole other wave of confusion has rolled over you in terms of your relationship with Harry, if there still is one. The two of you have crossed a line without any prior thought or contemplation. Years upon years of friendship have been threatened, and you’re not even sure how it happened. Why did he kiss you? How did the two of you end up in bed, naked between the sheets? If you were confused about it before, trying to figure things out has only worsened your introspection.

Keep reading

Second chance

(A/N): I just really needed Bucky fluff so

Summary: (Y/N) gives Bucky a home, a family, love, a second chance.

Warnings: fluff

Tags: @mcuimxgine, @ifoundlove-x0vanessa0x, @saradi1018, @holland-toms, @superwholockian309, @fly-f0rever, @capbuckthor, @livandlilah, @callmeoncette


Originally posted by veestronger

   Bucky winces as the front door creaked; he’d have to change the hinges soon. The floor boards ached underneath his boots, making awful creaking noises with each step. Goddamit, he was trying to be quiet for fucks sake and his 7,000 year old house was making that nearly impossible.

   “You’re back early,” Bucky looks up from the old wooden floor to look upon his wife, standing at the foot of their stairs with a robe wrappedaround her body. Bucky can’t help but smile as he lowers his bag to the ground, immediately enveloping (Y/N) into a tight hug.

   “Mission went off without a hitch,”

   “Mmhh, that’s good,” (Y/N) hums softly as she runs her fingers through Bucky’s sweat matted hair. “No bruises, cuts, broken bones?”

   “My leg has a small scratch, nothing to be too worried about,” (Y/N) releases Bucky from their hug instead taking his hands as she quietly led him up the stairs, stopping when the floorboards would creak gently. It took a few minutes but (Y/N) finally got them up the stairs and into their shared bedroom.

   (Y/N) immediately drags Bucky to their bathroom, gingerly forcing him down onto the side of their bathtub, a vintage claw foot that Bucky spent years trying to install.

   “Clothes off,” (Y/N) states matter of factly as she reaches under their sink, grabbing the first aid kit she always had on hand.

   “(Y/N), it’s really nothin’ to worry about doll, just a little scratch-”

   “Don’t make me tell you again Mr. Barnes,” (Y/N) clucked her tongue at him, smiling just a bit. Bucky smiled as he unbuttoned his vest, letting it droop to the floor as he began worming his boots and pants off. Before his pants were even off his leg (Y/N) pounced upon him, inspecting his wound thoroughly as though she were some kind of surgeon. She might as well have been a surgeon given how often she was stitching Bucky up, making him feel better and okay.

   “I don’t think it’s going to need any stitches- this time,” (Y/N) adds the last part with a soft smile. “Probably just some cleaning and a bandage.”

   “See, what did I tell you-”

   “But you need a shower, you smell horrible,” Bucky chuckles gingerly as he shakes his head, still being mindful enough to be quiet.

   “Only if you join me,” (Y/N) smiles softly, chuckling herself.

   “I have to go make breakfast soon-”

  “We’ll help each other, promise,”

   “James Buchanan Barnes, the last time you tried to cook in my kitchen you nearly burned our entire house down,”

   “Yeah, but then we got to renovate, remember how fun that was?”

   “I remember you nailing your hand to a piece wood, that’s for sure,” (Y/N) chuckles again, shaking her head fondly at the memory.

   “Well, I have experience now and I promise I won’t burn our kitchen down,” Bucky smiles softly, his eyes twinkling with a warm sort of fondness for his wife. “Please join me?”

   “Fine, but only because you asked so nicely,” (Y/N) slides off her robe as Bucky turns their tub on, letting it fill up with warm water before he and (Y/N) clambered In.

   Bucky looks back as (Y/N) slides her bra off, leaving her completely vulnerable to his gaze. It felt like Bucky’s breath had been taken away; it didn’t matter how many times he looked at (Y/N), every time he did it felt like the first, every single time.

   “You’re gorgeous,” Bucky whispers as he settles his hands on (Y/N)’s waist as his gaze rakes up and down her body, taking every chunk of her in. “So gorgeous,” Bucky leans forward, pressing a series of kisses along (Y/N)’s hips, stomach, and sternum. Her breath hitches in the back of her throat and her hands immediately fly to his hair, gripping it gently.

   “Bucky, bath first, sex after breakfast,” Bucky smiles as he pulls back, looking up at (Y/N) adoringly.

   “You’re no fun,”

   “Get in the tub you loser,” (Y/N) chuckles as they give his shoulder a gentle tap, before she clambers into the tub, taking up almost half the thing.

   “God, we need a new tub,” Bucky mutters as he slides in, right between (Y/N)’s legs.

   “And you’re not installing it,” (Y/N) presses a gentle kiss to his forehead as she grabs his shampoo bottle, flipping the cap open and squirting some onto her palm.

   “Why not?” Bucky pouts adorably as (Y/N) uses her free hand to work some water into his hair.

   “I don’t need to remind you of what happened the last time you tried to install something,” (Y/N) chuckles as she works the water into his hair, soaking it before working the shampoo in. Bucky hums in delight, sighing as he relaxes against (Y/N)’s body.

   “It was my first time, I can do it so well now-”

   “Bucky,” (Y/N) title his head up enough that she can lean down to press a kiss to his lips. “No more repairs or installations for you, we’ll get a contractor to come out and help,”

   “What the hell kind of contractor is going to come all the way out here?”

   “Bucky, stop squirming or you’re going to get shampoo in your eyes,” (Y/N) chuckles as she fondly strokes her husband’s scruffy cheek, just a barely there touch that she knew he enjoyed so much.

   Bucky settles down, enough for (Y/N) to wash his hair, condition it, and manage to cover some parts of his body in soap.

   “And I’m sure uncle Clint wouldn’t mind coming in to help fix the tub,”

   “You’d pick Clint over me?” Bucky looks almost appalled as he looks up at (Y/N), his eyes narrowed and mouth open. (Y/N) smirks as she hands the soap over to Bucky, smacking the soapy bar into his outstretched hand.

   “Mhm, yes I would,”

   “I’m offended,” Bucky mutters as he washes all the parts (Y/N) wasn’t able to get, namely anything past his pecs.

   “Boohoo,” (Y/N) chuckles as Bucky begins to work on his legs, having to sling one of them over the edge of the tub to clean it. “I’ll make it up to you later,”

   “Yeah,” Bucky grumbles as he works on the other leg. “I’m sure you will,” (Y/N) smiles as she tilts her head, just enough to kiss the side of Bucky’s head.

   “How about waffles for breakfast and me for dessert?” Bucky hums as he sets the soap down, tilting his head up to smile at (Y/N).

   “That sounds heavenly,”

   “Well let’s get going then Big guy,” (Y/N) chuckles softly as Bucky clambers out of the tub, grabbing a towel for himself and two for (Y/N).

   “Thank you,” (Y/N) gets on her tiptoes to press a kiss to Bucky’s lips before quickly pulling away again. “You’re running out of clothes to wear,” (Y/N) comments as she throws him a pair of boxers and loose sweats. “We’ll have to go shopping soon,” Bucky Hums as he gets dressed, sliding his clothing on as he watched (Y/N). God- he could just look at her all day. She was beautiful in his eyes, any little imperfection that she hated Bucky loved, any stretch mark or unwanted mole, any “fat” that she claimed to have he loved it.

   Bucky can’t help but wrap his hands around (Y/N)’s waist as she slips a shirt on, letting it bunch around his arms.

   “I missed you,” Bucky whispers as he nuzzles his face into the crook of her neck. “I missed this,” (Y/N) sighs as she settles her arms over his, grasping his hands gently and giving them a gentle squeeze.

   “I missed you too…how long will you be staying this time?”

   “Whenever Fury calls me back,” Bucky presses his lips to (Y/N)’s neck, giving her a series of open mouthed kisses. (Y/N) hums pleasurably, tilting her head to the side a bit to give Bucky better access.

   “We miss you,” (Y/N) whispers, stopping Bucky dead in his tracks. We. (Y/N) and their children; their children. Sometimes Bucky forgot he had a life here, a loving wife, three amazing kids, he was so caught up with Shield and missions and hydra that he forgot that he was past that part of his life; he didn’t have to worry about hydra, shield and missions weren’t his day and night anymore but (Y/N) was, his family was.

   “I know baby,” Bucky sighs as he breaks away, rubbing at his forehead as he does. “I need to resign, I need to do something-”

   “Don’t do anything you don’t want to do, I don’t want you to feel like you have to give up shield for us-”

   “But I want to,” Bucky hangs his head, sighing once again. “I want to leave that chapter of my life behind. It’s like I’m stuck on the same damn page twenty four seven and I hate it. You guys are my new chapter, I just need to stop going back and rereading the last ones…” (Y/N) smiles softly as she reaches out, holding Bucky gently.

   “Then take a break, stay at home, learn how to cook, fix our tub and walls-”

   “I thought you said no more renovations for me?” Bucky smiles just a bit, one quirk of his lip is all.

   “Mh, I’ve changed my mind, plus if you’re going to be here all the time you’re going to need to learn how to do some work,” Bucky chuckles as he holds (Y/N), a sweetly almost earthy sound filling the air.

   “You’re rude to me,”

   “Yeah I am,” (Y/N) smiles as she gently kisses Bucky’s bare chest. “And you love me for it,” (Y/N) pulls away, taking Bucky by the hand as she gently guides him down the stairs and into their kitchen.

   “Yeah, unfortunately I do,” (Y/N) gasps, feigning hurt as she clutches at her heart.

   “I’m hurt, wounded,” Bucky chuckles as he wraps his arms back around (Y/N)’s waist, smiling as he squeezed them gently. “No, stop, I’m mad at you,” (Y/N) laughs as Bucky nuzzles his scruffy face in the crook of her neck, tickling her gently. “Bucky, stop, we have to make breakfast!” (Y/N) whispers harshly to the soldier but her smile betrayed her tone.

   “If you keep yellin’ like that you’re gonna wake the kids up,”

   “Yeah, and it’ll be your fault-” (Y/N) smiles as she waddles towards their fridge, dragging Bucky with her as he refused to let go of her waist. “I thought you said you were helping,” (Y/N) smirks as she reaches for the milk and eggs, holding them both in one hand while the other retrieved a small pack of bacon.

   “I am,” Bucky chuckles as he grips (Y/N)’s hips gently.

   “Then get me some flour and salt,” Bucky smiles as he presses a kiss to (Y/N)’s cheek before sauntering off to retrieve all the necessary items for waffles.

   Bucky’s hand stalls as he reaches for a bag of sugar- He stared at the metal plating, stained with years of wear and tear, bodily fluids, and plenty of chalk and paint from both Steve and his children. It didn’t seem like too long ago when he’d used that same hand to choke innocent victims, it didn’t seem like years ago when one day a certain woman came up to him, held his hand, and begged him to help her. That’s how he had met (Y/N). She was being followed by a few shady men and she came to Bucky’s side for comfort. She didn’t even know him, he looked like an ex con for fucks sake and yet she still took his hand and begged for help. He remembered looking into those shining eyes of hers and feeling his heart clench as he was met with a fearful gaze. She begged him to pretend to be her boyfriend, which he gladly did.

   They had walked around, stopped at a cafe, talked, and eventually stopped at Central Park. Bucky was having such a fantastic time that he didn’t even notice when the men stopped following the two of them, and apparently so did (Y/N).

   “They stopped,” (Y/N) had whispered as she looked around the park. “Oh my god, thank you so much Bucky, thank you so, so, so much. How can I repay you?”

   “How about a real date, one where we don’t have to worry about men following us around?” Bucky knew it was a long shot, he was the infamous winter soldier after all, there was no way (Y/N) would ever agree-

   “I’d love that,” (Y/N) had whispered, giving his hand a good squeeze. It was in that moment Bucky realized for the first time in forever he wasn’t scared. He wasn’t afraid he was going to hurt (Y/N), he wasn’t afraid that hydra was lurking around the corner, he wasn’t afraid of what the next mission would be, for once he could finally just be.

   “Buck, I need that sugar,” (Y/N) smiled tenderly at Bucky as she held a whisk in her hand, parts of it dripping in thick batter.

   Bucky clears his throat as he reaches for the sugar, snatching it up before handing it to (Y/N).

   (Y/N) had given him a second chance. He had been a broken shell, something of the man he once used to be but when (Y/N) showed up the pieces slowly started to fall back into place. He didn’t feel so scared anymore, he slowly adopted the old Bucky Barnes back into his life, the fun, playful, loving one that everyone had missed so much. (Y/N) had given him a second chance at life.

   “Daddy!” Three high pitched voices break him away from his thoughts. Three pairs of feet hit the hardwood as Bucky’s kids come barreling after him; Elizabeth, Collin, and Ben. Ben and Collin were his first two kids, twins, and Elizabeth was the youngest, daddy’s princess.

   All three kids latch onto Bucky immediately, shouting happily as they climb all over him. Bucky laughs as he picks up Elizabeth and Ben, letting Collin climb (more like Jump) up onto his back.

   “Yeah, yeah, daddy missed you too you goofballs,”

   “Daddy, I drew you a bunch of pictures!” Elizabeth cries happily, pointing to the fridge with a small finger. Bucky looks surprised as he looks at them, smiling widely when Elizabeth giggles.

   “They’re beautiful baby,”

   “Daddy! I finally hit our baseball into that meadow!”

   “Did you now?” Bucky looks at Ben, who was looking up at his father adoringly.

   “Oh yes he did, he went in to retrieve it and I couldn’t find him for half an hour,” Bucky laughs as (Y/N) continues to whisk and fold the batter.

   “And Collin,” Bucky tilted his head backwards, smiling at his son. “What have you been up to Buddy?”

   “Mommy’s been teaching me how to read big boy books!”

   “Like what?”

   “Harry- Harry-”

   “Harry potter?”

   “Yes!” Colin smiles excitedly.

  “That’s so cool!”

  “Yeah!” Collin nods as he wraps his arms around Bucky’s head, making it impossible to see anything.

   “Kids, why don’t you go play on the swing and daddy will come play once breakfast is almost done?” The children squeal happily as they jump off Bucky, rushing to the back door and out into their endless backyard.

   Bucky smiles fondly as he watches them scurry off, his heart clenching just a bit. Years ago he never would have believe he’d settle down, get married, have a family, he had been too dangerous for that but here he was, making breakfast for his wife and children and in his own home too, not some tower or sanctuary, his own home with rooms and a kitchen and a backyard.

   Bucky can feel the tears burn at his eyes but he ignores them for now. Instead he wraps his arms around (Y/N) once again as his lips find purchase on her temple.

   “Thank you,” Bucky whispers hoarsely, making it obvious he was on the verge of tears. (Y/N) immediately looks at him, her beautiful eyes shrouded in worry.

   “What for?” Bucky smiles gently as he rubs his nose against (Y/N)’s, inhaling her comforting scent deeply.

   “For giving me a second chance,”

Pastries, Patrol, and gossip
  • Volpina: Hey, Ladybug, why are the pastries you bring out to patrols always from the Dupain-Cheng bakery? Do you live near there or something?
  • Ladybug: what?! Nooo-
  • Queen Bee(interrupting): I know right, like is it a sponsorship or something because if we need backed up financially I can guarantee at least the support of the mayor.
  • Chat: If it's like that then I'd rather stick with the bakery,I don't eat sweets very often at home. Plus the Mayor can be a little over the top and his daughter's been a bit clingy around Ladybug in the past.
  • Queen Bee: just what are you trying to say?!
  • Chat: that was mostly before you two were here. And anyways I liked hanging out with the Dupain-Cheng's daughter more anyways.
  • Ladybug, Volpina, and Bee: WHAT?!
  • Chat: Not like that, she was more helpful with Akumas
  • Bee: That klutz? No way.
  • Ladybug: Guys, can we please talk about something else?
  • Chat: Jealous?
  • Ladybug(deadpanned sarcasm): yeah, let's go with that
  • Volpina: but seriously why that specific bakery every time?
  • Ladybug: Look, if you have a problem then bring your own food and otherwise, bug off
  • ------
  • Later at Marinette's house
  • Marinette: I don't care what Volpina told you Alya, that doesn't sound like any customer I recognize. Now please go tell Chloe to buy something or leave because it's been really crowded since you mentioned that ladybug supposedly picks up pastries to go from here
  • -----
  • Later on patrol again
  • Ladybug: I brought some again but none for you Volpina
  • Volpina: what!? Why?
  • Ladybug: because SOMEONE told the ladyblog where I get food and that place was way too busy!
Chris Cornell.

I’ve been trying to think of what to write for a solid hour now. I’ll start something, then backspace every word until it’s all gone, and I think that’s how my mind and heart feels right now.

This isn’t just a case of a musician I was a casual fan of dying too young. Soundgarden is a band that I discovered as a child in the late ‘90s. I have fan art of Chris Cornell that I drew when I was 11 fucking years old. I had a silly teenage crush on him, too. There are old picture files on a zip drive I own that date back to 2004 with titles like “Ohh Chris!” and “So Sexy”.

And now this guy that was so much a part of those silly times is…gone. Just gone. He took his own life. God knows what led him to do this. It could have been the result of months or even years of heartache that wasn’t managed properly. It could have been an impulse decision made while upset, as so many suicides occur that way. None of us will ever know what was going on in his head last night.

His bandmates, his friends, his family, and millions of fans are now stuck in a horrid grieving process that will take a long time to work through. My first thought this morning after seeing that Chris was actually gone, as in gone and never coming back, was about how Jerry Cantrell is going to have to bury another fucking friend of his that died too young. Another one. He has had to watch dozens of people he loved die like this. The same could be said for any grunge musician right now. Another brother. Gone.

But I want to say something to all of you - nearly 1,000 of you - you are so fucking loved. If you’re not loved by the people in your life, there are people like me and others on the internet who are going to be there when your head starts slumping. Please, please take care of yourself. If you’re battling suicidal thoughts, please reach out to me or someone else. Don’t make an impulse decision to leave this world when you have so much more to offer, so much to give. I failed to take my own life three times. I am glad something stopped me each time. Death culture is rampant and it might be comforting to think about when times get rough, but please don’t die.

I am not okay. I’m probably not going to be okay for a while. Last night was a mess and I was already upset about that, but now that Chris is gone, the only thing I can do is kind of divorce myself from my emotions a bit. Regardless though, I am here for you. Please don’t do anything to hurt yourself. Maybe when my head settles we can have some kind of group session about this and play some Soundgarden tunes (or hell, even Audioslave or that jank Timbaland album) to get through this together. 

Chris Cornell, the second best voice in grunge, has been silenced, but recordings of that voice will be around for a very long time. I am so grateful for all the times I was inspired by his singing, his songwriting, and his sense of humor. Chris wasn’t just a pretty face - he was highly intelligent and had such a unique way of looking at fame and praise. He didn’t want to be a sex symbol. He didn’t take groupies. He didn’t have that same hedonistic attitude that befell so many other musicians. He was a cut above the rest, something truly special, and I’m going to remember him that way.

I’m going to remember Chris Cornell as the amazing person he was, not for what he did in a split second while alone and hollow inside. He is still full of life through the life he gave to others.

fairyflossed-bunnymilk  asked:

How about their reaction to their girl gettin all shy after doin the do and hiding her face in their chest or neck or something

Jin: Would probably continuously ask what’s wrong as he couldn’t help but smile at how cute you were being. When he finally got you to face him he’d do something cheesy like wink or push his lips together as if he was going to kiss you, trying to ease the tension of you becoming embarrassed, before bursting into laughter at himself.

Originally posted by yo-seokjin

Yoongi: Be a bit confused on why you were so embarrassed since it was already done and over with

Originally posted by jeonbase

Namjoon: As he felt your face attempting to bury its way into his chest I don’t think he’d say much, letting you as he kissed the top of your head. I don’t think he’d assume it was because you were embarrassed, thinking you just wanted him to stay close to you and he happy did.

Originally posted by jjilljj

Hoseok: I think he’d find it cute as well, tickling you until you looked up at him and begged him to stop while you laughed. Once he’d stop I feel like he’s that one guy that sorta just stares at you, thinking about how happy he is, and you just already know what he’s thinking because he says it so much.

Originally posted by sweaterpawsjimin

Jimin: Would start to wonder if you were regretting it already, continuously asking you about it until you looked up at him, blushing like crazy, “No….I didn’t hate it. It’s the opposite really….” Then he’d start to get embarrassed and omg he’d just sorta smile the more he thought about what just happened

Originally posted by sweaterpawsjimin

Taehyung: King of teasing you tbh. “Are you embarrassed because I _______? Or because you actually _____?” “Tae!” He’d just giggle a bunch, letting you snuggle up on him.

Originally posted by chimneytaels

Jungkook: If it was the first time anything had happened between the both of you I honestly think he’d have no idea what to do so he’d just sorta hold you there until you finally said something. His mind would probably be racing on whether or not this was a good sign

Originally posted by ken-z-the-aesthetic-queen

anonymous asked:

Hey!! I remeber the post you made abt holo-shiro scaring keith... can I get one in wich he does it again so keith freaks out and adds Lance to the chat so he can help him??? Idk what would happen next, maybe lance finds out that that wasn't the real shiro and delets him or something... Please and thank you!!! 💖💖💖

i was surprised that this request came up more than once because i didn’t really think the first holo!shiro text was very well-received but i’m glad you want more!! so here ya go, a second installment with 100% more klangst and pining!keith ;)

… shall i continue? :)

(part 2 exists now!!)

Malec Goodies Part 2

As always, if you know the author and want to give me a hand, please tag them :)

Never Better by satonawall

Three times Alec offers to give Magnus a backrub + one time Magnus asks for one.

No matter what by @hufflebee

Alec often thought about kissing Magnus.

Whenever Magnus would casually touch him, a hand of his arm, an arm wrapped around his shoulders, Alec would be overcome with warmth, feeling each touch throughout his entire body. Each touch left him wondering how his body would even contain him if Magnus ever kissed him.

And whenever Alec thought about this, his mind barely registered the world around him, barely aware of anything existing but Magnus. Which was a wonderful thing, a beautiful world to have his mind focused on, a world consisting of only Magnus.

Still, their English teacher didn’t really appreciate it.

Now and Forever by EmilyRLightwood

Magnus and Alec like to get down and dirty, but they are also totally soft for each other, even in the throes of passion.

Nulla Salus Bello by Nia_dAstarte

Long after Magnus is back in his own body, long after he goes again suavely about his business as High Warlock of Brooklyn, he still wonders what Alec was thinking. Coda to 2x11.

Oblivion by  @heartsalmighty

Alec stood up, keeping a careful distance and being sure to move slowly as he approached. “Magnus, I am so sorry. For everything you had to go through.”

Magnus’ eyes never moved from the spot on the floor he was staring at. He shook his head slightly, eyebrows furrowed deeply. “That agony rune…” He paused, taking a moment to swallow. His face was drawn in so much pain that Alec had to look away for a moment. He immediately punished himself by digging his fingernails into his palm. It was selfish to worry about his pain. He had certainly inflicted more than enough on Magnus that he had to atone for. “Made me remember things that I spent…centuries trying to forget.”

Off Duty by KouriArashi 

“I’m talking about an actual day off,” Magnus says, and Alec’s blank expression doesn’t change. “Off duty. If something goes wrong, they call someone who isn’t you.”

“That’s … not really a thing that the Head of an Institute gets,” Alec says.

One Easy Answer by @ameliacgormley

Magnus warned Alec he wouldn’t ask again.

And he didn’t.

Alec called off his wedding, but the next day walked in on Magnus with Camille and hasn’t spoken to Magnus since.

Now, months later, relations between the Shadowhunters and the Downworld are growing increasingly turbulent as the Downworld blames Jace for Valentine’s massacre of dozens of Downworlders.

It’s up to Alec, as Head of the New York Institute, to forge a peace that could save thousands of Downworlder and Shadowhunter lives—even if it means re-evaluating everything he once thought mattered.

Our Battles Choose Us by @thepinescentedair

Alec shakes his head and rubs his palm over the white scar of the faded deflect rune permanently inscribed on the left side of his neck. He wishes he had his stele or his bow or even his sword. Anything would be better than facing an unknown foe nearly weaponless and certainly powerless. He wishes a lot of things. “Keep your head and don’t get cocky, Izzy. We stick together, remember?”

Isabelle nods and stares at the door, weapon hanging loosely from her hand at her side. “You and me against the world, Alec.”


Or, after the Downworlders rise up against the Shadowhunters, the United States is quarantined off. Downworlders capture Shadowhunters and force them to fight in arenas for entertainment. Alec and Isabelle do their best to stay alive in the ring despite everything that has happened in the year since they were captured, but what happens when they try to escape?

Please, believe me by @katychan666

After swapping bodies, Magnus needs to make Alec believe that he isn’t really Valentine. Alec needs a bit of a push, but after hearing him out, he’s prepared to believe him.

Please, tell me what I can do by Shipper_Soprano

Aftermath of 2x12 “You Are Not Your Own”

Public display by @simonlewhiss

He’s going to cuddle with his boyfriend if he wants to, because he just put his body through hell for these people. They can tolerate seeing Magnus’ fingers in his hair.

Rainy Morning or the One Where Magnus Checks Alec’s Phone by @mfika

“Alec sat up quickly, keeping Magnus in his lap as he closed his fingers around Magnus’ wrists, kissing his fingers in a lame attempt to hide the embarrassed blush that covered his cheeks. At that, Magnus relaxed. No, Alec wasn’t faltering in his trust, he was just embarrassed by something and Magnus was now making it his mission to find out what that /something/ was. “Alexander, you screeched. That’s highly unlike you,” he grinned, amused.”

Ruin Me (Gently) by @thesorrowoflizards

It involves spells gone wrong, smutty smut, and a second virginity.

Keep reading

Three reasons

Originally posted by sugutie

Paring: Jungkook x Reader

Genre: Fluff (with maybe a tiny, tiny bit of angst in the middle) // One-shot

Word count: 3.6k

Synopsis: Jeon claims, vows, that he has every reason not to like you - three reasons, to be more specific, and he’s more than willing to proclaim them on his very own deathbed if needed. Ok, a bit drastic, but it makes the idea.

After all, even the hectic, frantic pace of his much pissed heart is proving him right - right?

Right?

Author’s note: Pc destroyed but phone working, plus my need to wreck my lovely sis @pantaemonium with a shit-storm of fluff. And this is what came out, blame Laura.

(What happened to me and my love for horror tho? Blame Jeon)


One

There are exactly three reasons why Jeon Jungkook doesn’t like you.

(And when the golden boy says he doesn’t like you, he means that he really, really, really Does Not Like You – yes, all with capitals letters.)

First of all, for lacking of better words, you can totally, easily, completely annihilate him at Mario Kart.

That, as everybody in the room knows, truly shouldn’t be possible, yet here he is with the controller hanging between his hands and eyes big and confused as he watches his avatar falling into the abyss down Rainbow Road along with his very bruised, very salty pride.

It was one of your blue shells.

Keep reading