sleeping on the bench

A new religious statue in the town of Davidson, N.C., is unlike anything you might see in church.

The statue depicts Jesus as a vagrant sleeping on a park bench. St. Alban’s Episcopal Church installed the homeless Jesus statue on its property in the middle of an upscale neighborhood filled with well-kept townhomes.

Jesus is huddled under a blanket with his face and hands obscured; only the crucifixion wounds on his uncovered feet give him away.

The reaction was immediate. Some loved it; some didn’t.

“One woman from the neighborhood actually called police the first time she drove by,” says David Boraks, editor of DavidsonNews.net. “She thought it was an actual homeless person.”

That’s right. Somebody called the cops on Jesus.

Source: NPR (added)

Emergencies

There are things you learn from being Viktor Nikiforov’s coach, things that no other student will teach you.

“This is an emergency!” A sixteen-year-old Viktor screeches into his ear when Yakov picks up the phone.

“Vitya,” Yakov says, old heart speeding up. “Vitya, are you okay? Was there an accident? Who died?”

“An accident, this is a disaster, Yakov! I told them exactly what to do with my program outfit and they didn’t listen. They screwed up the lace, Yakov, don’t they understand what that’s supposed to represent–”

“Vitya,” Yakov says, “It is 3am in the morning. I am going back to bed.”

By the time Viktor is nineteen, Yakov is an expert in handling Viktor Nikiforov’s “emergencies.” Emergencies that, somehow, he believes only his coach capable of handling.

“Help, it’s an emergency,” Viktor whispers into the phone at eighteen. “Stephane Lambiel is so hot, Yakov, and his program this year–”

Yakov. Is. Done. When Viktor bursts into the rink at twenty, tears glistening in his beautiful blue eyes, dragging a hundred pound Makkachin with him, Yakov does not even blink. “YAKOV IT’S AN EMERGENCY, SHE IS BLEEDING YAKOV–”

“You clipped her nails too short, you fool, we’ll wrap it up and she’ll be fine.”

When Viktor Nikiforov is twenty-four, has two perfect seasons under his belt, the emergencies slow. Yakov does not miss them. He assumes his skater is finally growing up.

When Viktor Nikiforov is twenty-six, Yakov finds him sleeping on a rink bench. When he’s not skating he stares off, almost blank. When Viktor Nikiforov is twenty-six Yakov swings by his apartment to drop off his skating bag because he forgot it at the rink, again, and he finds Viktor crying, sitting straight up on his couch, TV off. When he talks to him, he realizes Viktor wasn’t even aware of the tears.

“Viktor,” he says, as gently as his face and voice can allow, “is this an emergency? How can I help you?”

“It’s fine,” Viktor says. “I’m fine.”

So often, when Viktor speaks, Yakov does not believe him. 

Things change, at the rink. Yakov tries to make sure they do. Things get a little better. There are no emergencies.

Yakov is resting on a chair in the corner at the banquet of the Sochi GPF, exhausted by small talk and schmoozing with sponsors. He is ready to go to bed. 

Then a twenty-seven year old Viktor Nikiforov is sprinting towards him, Armani jacket practically ripped open, blue eyes alight.

“YAKOV, IT’S AN EMERGENCY!”

Here he comes, Yakov thinks. Here we go

anonymous asked:

What's your take on the world ending for the Greek Gods? Or when they cease to be relevant to mankind, and what happens to them? Would Athena, Aphrodite and Artemis take the streets and march for Pride? Would Demeter be the manager at a zoo?

Time passes. The world changes. Temples fall. People now speak their names as if they are fairytales.

The gods are dead.

~

Apollo’s chariot lies broken and forgotten in the ruins of a city no one knows the name of anymore. He watches the sun crawl across the sky of its own volition, without him to push it forward.

“Do you miss it?” Artemis asks him, appearing by his side.  They stand at the top of a sparkling glass building, almost the same as ever. She walks among the mortals more than he does, she always has, and She’s dressed like one of them. Tight clothes and half her head shaved, sparkling gems curling up the delicate shell of her ear. She looks like one of the teenagers that fill his concert stadiums.

He thinks of the way his chariot threatened to escape his grasp every morning, the oppressive heat of the sun beating down on him, the burns and the undercurrent of fear that one day he would lose his grip on the reins and plunge the world into darkness.

Apollo leans his head on his sister’s shoulder. The sun rises slower without him, but it rises just the same. “No. Not really.”

~

Hephaestus’s workshop has evolved with the times – from a volcano base to a modern lab, but always a workshop bursting with creation. The cyclopes are still his best assistants.

Aphrodite steps over discarded parts and expertly walks around frantic cyclopes carrying bubbling concoctions. Her dark hair is swept up in a bun and she wears chunky glasses and a blood red pantsuit that almost hides the fact she’s the most beautiful woman to walk the earth. “I have a client, try not to blow up the house. Again.”

“Yes dear,” he says, but doesn’t looks away from his soldering. She hadn’t expected him too. His prosthetics are off and on the floor besides him, and he’s seated on a too-tall chair to compensate for the loss of height.

She reaches out and carefully touches the corner of his eye. Crow’s feet have started to work their way onto his face. They’re getting old. “It’s the couple that’s fighting because he wants kids and she doesn’t want to carry any kids but doesn’t want to say that. It would probably be easier if I just told them to adopt and threw them out the window.”

“Yes dear,” he repeats, sparks flying. A few land on her, but she doesn’t burn. Of course.

She moves her hand up and pushes it through his hair and resists the urge to pull him from his work and abandon her own so they can make out on his worktable. “I love you.”

Aphrodite turns to leave, but Hephaestus grabs her wrist and pulls her back. He holds up a single copper lily, the edges of the petals still glowing with heat it had taken to shape them. He carefully slides the stem into her hair so it sits at the base of her bun. He grazes her bottom lip with his thumb as he pulls his hand back to his side. “Yes dear.”

~

Demeter rages.

She makes imprudent deals to control an earth that no longer falls under her domain, and she enacts her revenge against the mortals in whatever way she can. They have forgotten her, forgotten the earth, and in their ignorance they seek to destroy it.

She shakes the bedrock and splits it open, but still they do not learn, and as the temperature of the earth rises so does her temper.

The sea is not hers to command, her power is of earth and of earth alone, and even now she gave more than could afford to lose to keep her grasp on it. But these mortals do not learn.

Demeter goes to the sea and makes an inadvisable bargain. She goes to the crumbling remains of Olympus and makes an even worse one.

Typhoons and hurricanes whip across the land. If they seek to destroy her, she will simply destroy them first.

~

Hera sits on a pure white couch in an elegant mansion, smiling for the journalist seated across from her.

“What do you think is the most influential decision you ever made?” he asks, “If you could pinpoint the success of your business to one moment, what would it be?”

She tilts her head as the light of the camera flashes. “Why, divorcing my husband, of course.”

“Would that be your advice to young women hoping to be as successful as you?” he asks, “To not get married?”

Hera thinks of thousands of years by Zeus’s side, and how little it got her. She thinks of Hestia’s men, and Artemis’s women, of Hephaestus’s love for Aphrodite, of the way Hades softened the sharpest of Persephone’s edges.

She says, “Do not get married to someone who makes you less than you are. If you are not a better person for being together than apart, then do not be together. It’s as simple as that.”

Simple, but not easy.

Leaving Zeus was the hardest thing she’s ever done.

~

Persephone isn’t forced to spend half the year on the mortal earth anymore. She goes when she pleases, which isn’t often.

Sometimes she’ll sit by Artemis’s side while she brings a new life into the world and holds the warm, wriggly child first. She visits hospitals and makes the flowers bloom out of season, and spends long hours sitting under the sun and feeling it’s warmth touch her face.

Hades left his realm rarely before, and even more rarely now. More people are being born than ever, meaning more people are dying than ever. Their realm is massive, comprising of all the dead of several millennia. Hades and Hecate spend their days as always – desperately trying to expand the realm so that they don’t all have to live on top of each other.

“Have you heard?” she asks one day, seated on his desk and leaning across it so he can’t work on the latest draft for another level of their realm. “The gods are dead.”

He gives up on attempting to tug it out from underneath her. “Are they? That’s odd, none of them are here.”

Persephone doesn’t bother to hide her smile. They haven’t figured it out yet. Maybe they never will. But when death comes for them, as death does for all, it will be to Hades and Persephone’s door they are brought. Hades himself will usher Gaia and Amphitrite into the underworld, when the time comes.

That time is not today.

“Darling, I really do need to work on this,” he ineffectually tugs on the map again.

She pushes him back into the chair, climbing on top of him and pressing their foreheads together. “No, you don’t.”

“No, I don’t,” he agrees, and obligingly moves his head so Persephone can nibble at his neck. He manages a whole thirty seconds before going, “I mean, I really do, Hecate said if I didn’t have a plan by the time she leaves for the mortal realm tomorrow, I’ll either have to wait until she gets back or do it by myself, and I’d really prefer to do neither–”

Persephone kisses him to shut him up, twisting and pushing them through the realm so they land on their bed. “I’ll help you finish it later. Focus on me now.”

Hades doesn’t answer, but he does flip them so he’s above her and reaches below her skirt, so she’ll take that as agreement.

~

Hestia sits around a bonfire, watching a group of teenagers get drunk and dance around the flames. They’ll never be younger than right now, never feel as much love for each other as they do right now.

She is besides an old man who warms his hands from the fire coming from an abandoned trash can.

She lies on a bed as a girl lights two dozen candles around it as a surprise for when her lover gets home.

She watches a young man make dinner for his boyfriend for the first time and burn the chicken on both sides. They eat it together anyway.

She sits on the kitchen counter when a sister takes out a pie from the oven, made special for her little brother’s birthday.

She is there when a father ticks the thermostat up high in freezing dawn of morning so it will be warm by the time his wife and children awaken.

Most people don’t have hearths anymore. But there is warmth, and love, and for Hestia that is enough.

~

As their names fade from existence, as his name is called less and less on the battlefields of mortal men, the more Ares sleeps.

He falls asleep in too tall trees and on park benches. He sleeps in seedy motel rooms and naps in every one of Athena’s libraries. He sleeps curled up on a chair in Aphrodite’s office, and on the floors of a lot of veteran resource centers. As fast as he can tell, that’s the most they help any veteran.

Still, his favorite place to sleep is the underworld.

He goes knocking on Orpheus’s door, who is always willing to play for him. “Hades is here,” Eurydice says, “Would you like to me to go get him?”

He shakes his head, “Persephone is home. I wouldn’t want to intrude.”

Eurydice and Orpheus share the same look of faint disapproval, but neither of the say anything, for which he is grateful.

He lies in the soft grass of the garden Persephone made, and lets Orpheus’s playing lull him to sleep.

Later, he’s woken by strong arms picking him up and holding him against a familiar chest. He doesn’t even have to open his eyes to know who’s holding him. “I can go,” he yawns, his actions at odds with his words as he pulls himself even closer the warmth coming off the king of the underworld.

“No,” Hades says. “Stay.”

Ares lets out a content sigh as Hades presses his lips to his forehead, and he’s not great about touch, about people laying their hands on him and getting in his space. But Hades has always felt safe, felt like home.

He stays.

~

The gods are dead.

Long live the gods.


gods and monster series, part xiv

read more of the gods and monsters series here

When Seungri was barely 15 he was sleeping outside on a public bench in Seoul because he missed the last bus to his hometown and had no money or a place to stay. Eleven years later he’s the CEO of his own company, owns a restaurant franchise in two countries, owns 2 nightclubs, and his own record label. He’s only 26. Amazing.

anonymous asked:

"So it was you"

Harry woke up suddenly, sitting up straight in his bed. His heart pounded, still reacting to his nightmare. He looked around and tried to make sense of his surroundings. The darkness stretched across the room, but he could make out figures, breathing slowly as they slept. Harry sighed with relief.

He was in his dorm room, in the eighth year tower. Not many students wanted to continue their studies after the war, so the school just made one large space for those who decided to come back. Harry was one of them. Hermione and Ron came back, too. All of the Gryffindors. Most of the Hufflepuff’s and Ravenclaws. Even a good amount of Slytherins. The most surprising of them being Draco. A lot of people thought he would be sent to Azkaban, but after the trails, he was charged not guilty and permitted back to Hogwarts. Many people wondered how he was let go so easily, but only a few knew why.

Harry had been there, vouching for Draco, telling them that he was forced into the situation. What he said to Dumbledore. Everything… All but one. No one knew about it, not even Ron or Hermione. They didn’t understand that Draco really did recognize Harry at the Manor that night. But Harry knew. He could see it in his eyes.

Harry sighed, quietly getting up so as not to wake any of his roommates. He looked at his invisibility cloak, shaking his head and slipping out the door without it. He had a habit of waking up from nightmares, but it was especially frequent after the war. On nights like these he found his way up to the astronomy tower and stared at the sky, often waiting until he could see shades of pink break past the dark horizon. He was never interrupted there. He could think in peace.

He didn’t bother putting on shoes. He liked the way the cold felt against his feet. It grounded him.

He turned a corner, finding himself at the foot of the towers stairs, when he froze. A dark figure glided towards him, walking into the light of a torch.

“Malfoy.” Harry breathed. “… You startled me.”

“So even the chosen one gets scared?” Malfoy raised an eyebrow, but there was no venom to his voice. In fact, he sounded tired.

“Guess so…” Harry didn’t bother fighting back. He was still distracted by Draco’s presence. “What are you doing here?”

“I could ask you-” Malfoy stopped his usual retort. He narrowed his eyes at Harry, as if contemplating something. Then he let out an exasperated breath. “I’m going to the Astronomy tower.”

Harry blinked. “Oh…” His heart fell, his night plans going sour. He turned away from the stairs, “Have fun then.”

“What are you doing here?” Malfoy said quickly.

“Er…” Harry nodded towards the stairs awkwardly.

Draco stared at him for a moment before putting his nose in the air, “Well, no ones stopping you,” and glided up the steps. Harry glanced around, wondering what his next move should be, before his legs automatically brought him in stride with Malfoy.

They found their way to the top, settling down on a bench. Harry didn’t bother questioning why they sat at the same one. The company was oddly… refreshing.

They sighed in unison, staring out to the horizon. The night was bright with an almost full moon. Stars flitted in and out of sight, twinkling among a few clouds barely visible against the dark sky.

It seemed long, but Harry knew it could have only been several minutes. He was itching with a question, one he’d been holding to himself, never dreaming he’d be able to ask. After a few excruciating moments, Harry broke.

“Why did you let me go that day?” He blurted out.

Draco barely flinched. “What do you mean?”

“At the manor.”

Draco glanced at him boredly. “I used to live there, Potter. You’ll have to be more specific.”

“You know what I’m talking about.” A flare of frustration shot through his chest. “When they captured me. Greyback. You told them you didn’t know whether it was me or not.”

Harry paused. Waiting for an answer.

Draco looked straight ahead of him, expressionless. “So it was you.”

“But you knew that already.” Harry said angrily. He wasn’t making any sense.

“Potter, I don’t understand why we’re talking about this. The war is over.” He rubbed his eyes and Harry almost felt bad.

“Not for me.” He pushed.

“Well, it is for me.”

“Then why can’t you sleep?”

Silence.

“I like the stars.”

Harry huffed, leaning back against the bench. He ran a hand through his hair. He knew, of course, that Draco wouldn’t talk to him. But he had to try. He looked back up to the horizon. It looked different now. His irritation changing the serenity of the scene. He turned again towards Malfoy, just enough to look at him without seeming obvious. The moon made his platinum hair glow and his grey eyes shine. If it wasn’t for his somber expression, he would have looked untouchable. Almost ethereal.

“Why didn’t you tell them…” Harry jumped at Draco’s sudden words. “At the trails. That I hadn’t given you away.”

“I thought you didn’t know it was me.”

“Potter.” Draco pleaded. He closed his eyes, furrowing his brow in a pained expression.

“… I guess, I wanted to make sure it wasn’t my imagination. That you really had protected me.”

“You seemed pretty sure it wasn’t your imagination a moment ago.” Malfoy turned to lock eyes with Harry. They were dark and intense, challenging him to be as honest as he wanted Draco to be.

“I guess…” Harry took a deep breath, looking away from him. “I guess I didn’t want to share that moment. With anyone.”

Draco said nothing, so Harry continued. “It was the moment I realized you were never the enemy. The moment I realized none of this was your fault. That it was mine.”

There was more silence before, “You complete prat, Harry Potter.”

Harry snapped his head back to Malfoy, startled by the use of his full name, then startled again to see grey, watery eyes.

“Sorry?”

“Your fault? How?”

“Er-”

“I was the one who brought in Fenrir to the school, I was the one who fixed that bloody cabinet, I was the one who got Dumbledore killed! I helped the Dark Lord, I even got this damned mark to prove it!” Draco was on his feet now, face red with anger, as he wrenched his pajama sleeve up to reveal his dark mark. He laughed maniacally, as if the world had finally broken in half on top of him. “I even gloated! As if I was the most important shit in this place. And you, you get me out of Azkaban, after saving the entire fucking wizarding world, and you have the gall to tell me it’s all your fault? You don’t know shit about fault, Potter. Don’t you dare try to take that achievement from me, too.”

Harry’s eyes were wide with astonishment. Draco breathed heavily, face splotchy and pink. He seemed embarrassed, but held his gaze nonetheless.

They stared at each other, unsure of what to do next, when suddenly Harry snorted.

Then Malfoy laughed. It was short, just coming up from the back of his throat.

Then they were both laughing. Quietly at first, before building up to loud, obnoxious guffaws. Draco slipped back in his seat, holding onto the bench to keep himself steady. Harry was doubled over, taking large breathes in between it all.

“Wh-Why are you -ha!- laughing?” Draco managed.

“I-I don’t -pfft- know! Why a-are you?”

Draco shrugged, although it looked odd with his shoulders already shaking, “I’m an utter lunatic?”

That only made them laugh more, eventually gripping onto each other with the intensity of it all. It died down eventually. They took in shallow breaths, trying to keep themselves from smiling. Small chuckles escaped once or twice.

Harry looked up once he was calm enough, finding one hand placed on Draco’s thigh and the other underneath his fingers, their hands resting at the top of the benches back. Their bodies faced each other, calves folded beneath them.

Draco looked up as well, a small smile still on his lips. Harry glanced to them, watching his mouth curve back down to a slight frown.

“Draco.” Harry glanced back to his eyes. He looked surprised as the use of his first name. “Tell me… Please.”

A flash of fear went across his face, making him look away. He settled for looking at their intertwined fingers.

“Why is it so important to you?” He whispered.

Harry thought for a moment, a slow blush creeping up his own neck as he realized the real reason he wanted to know.

“Because I’m hoping it meant what I want it to mean.” He said before he could stop himself.

Draco froze, keeping his eyes glued to their hands. “… What did you want it to mean?”

“You tell me,” Harry breathed, inching his face closer to Draco’s. Enough so that if he were to turn, just a bit…

Draco remained still.

“Why didn’t you tell them it was me, Draco.” Harry could see him shiver at his own name.

“Because… Because I-” But he never finished, instead turning and catching Harry’s lips into his own. Harry reacted late, Draco already shifting so that he could tilt his head back, forcing Harry’s mouth open. Harry suddenly moved, letting go of his hand in order to wrap his arms around Draco’s torso. He moaned. Or did Draco moan? It wasn’t clear, all they could do was try to be as close to each other as possible.

Harry moved his mouth with Draco’s, his tongue sliding along the others. He felt along the hem of his pajamas, slipping his fingers against Draco’s cool skin.

Then, just as suddenly as it began, Harry was being pushed back. He caught himself before he could fully fall off his seat, blinking rapidly towards Malfoy-who was currently wide eyed and flushed. His lips were already swollen and slick with saliva. He quickly wiped his mouth, shaking while he did so.

“Draco-?” Harry started, but Malfoy abruptly stood up.

“It’s Malfoy to you, Potter.” He snapped, trying to straighten his shirt.

“Wha-?”

“D-don’t you dare try that again. I-I’ll-” He couldn’t finish, somehow getting redder and redder by the minute.

“You’re the one who-!”

“Well, you obviously seduced me! Sure you’re not a Slytherin? Because that was some sly manipulation if I’ve ever seen any.” Draco huffed, crossing his arms.

Harry could only laugh, but that made Draco turn on his heel and storm out.

“Wait!” Harry called to him. He merely stopped, turning his head ever so slightly. “Same time tomorrow night?”

There was a pause and a twitch on the corner of his mouth, looking suspiciously like a smile, before Draco continued down the stairs.

Harry let a long breath out. He couldn’t help but grin, before a thought dawned on him.

He never did get his answer.

Marichat May: Akumatized Marinette

Calendar

FF.net/Ao3

This was inspired by a conversation that two tumblr users were having about akuma!Marinette, but sadly wasn’t able to find it again.

Instead of being born from rejection, Marinette is akumatized due to stress and failure. Due to being overworked, due to not being able to stay on top of everything when she thinks she should just be able too. And when she wasn’t able too and failed she has a huge meltdown.

I bring you Manynette, one of the most fun akumas I’ve ever written.

                                                      ~

When Marinette burst into the classroom dressed differently and looking ready for business, Adrien sort of suspected that something was up. Especially when she took over Bustier’s class, and started discussing future plans she had for the class and was seeking opinions.

Bustier, surprised, noted, “You really are getting into being the class rep, Marinette.”

“Well there is so much to get done!” Marinette told her, shaking her head. She then corrected with a playful point, “And it’s Presinette, actually.”

That confirmed to Adrien that something was up.

He snuck out of class, transformed, took to the roofs, and was just about to call Ladybug when he saw another Marinette in front of the Dupain-Cheng’s bakery, handing out free samples.

Baffled, he drew near, starting to greet, “Marin—”

This Marinette quickly corrected, “Bakinette actually. Would you like a cookie Chat?”

Chat tensed as a butterfly symbol flared over Marinette’s face, only she scowled back. “Oh shut up Hawkmoth. Chat’s my friend and I can offer him a cookie if I want!” Her scowl twisted up even more. “No I’m not going to take his miraculous! How will that help me with the bakery?! Take it up with Buginette.”

While Mar—Bakinette argued and sassed off Hawkmoth, she handed Chat Noir a cookie, scoffing.

Gaping at her, Chat managed out, “Wha, what is going on?”

Bakinette paused, then explained, “We’re Manynette! All divided up to get as many of Marinette’s responsibilities done as efficiently as possible! Presinette went to the school to be class rep, Fashinette is upstairs doing fashion, I’m sure she’d love it if you model for her, Chorenette is getting all the chores done, Gardenette is up on the balcony taking care of our garden, I’m working at the bakery, Buginette is working to keep Paris safe, oh, actually, you should probably look out because she is looking for you. And catching up on sleep is Napinet—”

The symbol flared over her face once more and she rolled her eyes. “Oh go ahead, though you’ll probably lose one of your most powerful akumas,” Bakinette mocked. “Besides, you don’t even know which of us has the real akuma!”

Then, acting out of pure spite of Hawkmoth, Bakinette gave Chat another cookie.

Chat just continued to gape, surprised that Marinette was an akuma, and was sassing back at Hawkmoth and…

He was going to need a minute.

“CHAT NOIR!”

He didn’t have a minute.

He turned to see Ladybug pointing down to him, flashing him that confident smile. “Give me your miraculous so I can better protect Paris!”

Uh oh.

Chat tore off, set on escaping the pursuing Ladybug, who had to be Buginette and Marinette was Ladybug and she’s been behind him this whole time and he didn’t have time to think this over and had to go!

Though in his rush to escape, he completely missed a Marinette passed out on a bench, wearing a sleep mask, holding a purple ribbon, and a little kwami struggling to wake her up.

Things I’ve Seen During Finals
  • Someone calling in sick to work in order to sleep for their hour long shift.
  • Someone breakdancing to a boombox blasting Christmas music on the quad.
  • Someone crying because they got a free sandwich.
  • Someone walking into the lounge at 1 am with a huge stack of books, and the determination of someone who forgot a term paper.
  • Someone putting off writing their thesis because someone else needed math help and “logarithms are fun!”
  • Someone taking a lighter to a notebook as soon as they left the science building.
  • More than one flask being carried to class.
  • Someone literally giggle evilly when given a 6-pack of beer.
  • A freshman taking gen eds complaining about everyone else complaining about how hard finals are. (Note: the freshman may or may not have ever been seen again.)
  • Someone crossing campus at a run in slippers.
  • A nursing major explaining that finals are actually natural selection, and that she is the strongest and most adaptable and she was going to survive, while talking to herself.
  • A different nursing major looking very forlorn because she just ran out of wine.
  • Someone sleeping on a bench in the music building, with actual pillows and blankets and everything.
  • Sticky notes with swearwords written on them littered around the science building.
  • A group of students trying to one-up each other about how badly their juries had just gone.
  • Someone leaving for the library at 3 am, because there was free coffee there.
  • Someone flipping off the professor after being wished good luck on the final.
  • The same person realizing that they have an entire lifetime of that class ahead of them, because it’s their major.
  • Someone being questioned about how they wanted their funeral to look, after talking about the 8000 words they had due.
  • Just, so many people sprawled on floors because it’s easier to do that than anything else. So many.
  • The most genuine gratitude I’ve had directed at me possibly ever, because I gave someone a peanut butter cookie.

Finals: we’re all tired, hungry, and a little unhinged. It’s okay.

imagine alec proposing on that balcony because it’s their special place. imagine him getting down on one knee and magnus instantly tearing up and alec can only get half the question out before magnus drops to his knees too whispering “yes” over and over again against alec’s lips and kissing him passionately until they both are crying and smiling too much to continue.

imagine after a long day, alec and magnus retreating to the balcony, wine glasses in hand sitting down on the bench, a warm blanket draped across their laps while cuddling up together. exchanging soft smiles and lighthearted chatter, staring up at the sky getting lost together in their own little world. imagine their bubble being broken by the sound of quiet voices calling “dad” and turning to see their kids dressed in cute footsie pyjamas standing by the balcony doors. and alec and magnus both standing up at the same time, walking over to pick up their children who claim they can’t sleep and them heading back to the bench, their two little rays of sunshine sitting in their laps, snuggled under the blanket eyes fluttering shut while magnus and alec just sit there thinking about how lucky they are that they found each other and have this amazing family of their own, something neither of them ever thought they’d get the chance to have.

Owner - Part II

You couldn’t believe you’d said it.

Reality was settling in very quickly. You’d taken in a hybrid boy that was no doubt younger than you. He’d told you his rough beginnings and how he was used to being taken advantage of, and here you were, taking advantage of him and his situation.

Guilt washed over you, however Jungkook didn’t seem nearly as effected as you were.

“How long for?”

You thought about it.

Keep reading

Hooked

Hooked | Guard

Series: Worth Fighting For

Note: Hey! This is Day 1 for write-a-thon! I’m kicking it off with part one to an amazing series that I’m super excited for. Like, seriously, I’m so fucking excited to share this series with you guys. I really enjoyed writing it. Also, I’m gonna try to incorporate boxing terms into each title for this series…I’m gonna fail, but might as well try lmao.

Word Count: 3623

Pairing: Thomas Jefferson x Reader

AU: Boxing

Warnings: No smut…yet.

Summary: Thomas Jefferson, a world-famous boxer who is pegged as a self-centered asshole that has everything — good looks, fame, fortune, talent — trains for his big fight against Alexander Hamilton. When he moves to Washington D.C. to be closer to his family, he meets someone who will look past his outer shell and get to know the real him.

“The #2 pound-for-pound fighter and current world cruiserweight champion Thomas Jefferson is rumored to have moved to Washington D.C. for personal reasons. Many are wondering how this is going to affect his preparations for his big match in three months when he defends his title against newcomer Alexander Hamil–”

Thomas turned off the TV with a sigh. He was sick of this. The media never gave him a break; they were always up in his business, exposing everything that went on in his personal life for profit. Thomas felt like he never had a break from anything. But then again, he wasn’t supposed to be taking it easy. He was supposed to be training for a huge fight he had in three months, but instead he was in his new, half-unpacked apartment in the center of D.C.

Thomas’ thoughts were interrupted by his phone ringing in his right pocket. He groaned as soon as he saw the caller ID before he pressed the green button, holding it up to his ear.

“What?” Thomas snapped, somehow already annoyed with the person on the other line.

“What the hell are you doing in D.C.?”

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Mute

This is quite short - apologies
Word Count - 1201 words

Based off of this request:(xx)
Warning: Light smut at the end.


You listened as your daughter got continually more riled up with Harry’s muteness, wanting nothing more than to talk to her Daddy. He had strict orders to rest his voice, something very unwelcome with how busy your day is.

You were stood in the kitchen while the two of them sat at the dining table, keeping you company. You attempted to stir the pot of noodles cooking on the stove one handed while also keeping your newborn latched to feed.

“Daddy! Stop it.” Luna raised her hand as if she was going to hit him but the look of seriousness that he gave her stopped the four-year-old, deciding to sit back down and pout. You could feel sweat running down your neck with the heat of the pan clogging the air and you were finding it hard to find clean air.

You paced over to the window, opening it wide and leaning out as much as you could without squishing the 3-week-old baby, Noah, in your arms. The fresh air was a relief to your system and you couldn’t bring yourself to pull away.

You felt a hand on your shoulder and turned to find Harry, a concerned look on his face, his eyes asking if you were okay. The little girl following behind him caught you eye and her tear streaked cheeks hurt your heart. There was no point explaining for a third-time Harrys situation, you had given up a while ago.

“Fine, babe.” That was until the smoke alarm sounded, the smoke arising from the burning pot of noodles setting it off. “No, no. Fuck.”

You rushed over and tried to stir the clump but it proved impossible, the noodles sticking to the pan with no budge. You threw the pan off the hot plate on to the bench, the sound alarming the sleeping baby, sending him into a fit of cries.

Meanwhile Harry watched in a shock, Luna at his side tugging on his hand. He could see you were slowly falling apart and he couldn’t so much as give you comforting words. Doctors order an all.

“Mummy said a bad word.” You heard Luna whisper it to Harry, obviously seeing the state you’re in and not wanting to push you any further. You rarely swore in front of the kids and felt shitty you had let one slip.

“Luna, get out of the kitchen please. Go play with your toys.” You were bouncing Noah, trying to lull him back to sleep while letting out anything but soothing ‘shh’s’. They came out harsh and angry; a clear representation of your mood.

“Can you turn that thing off, Harry? Don’t just stand there for crying out loud.” You were still bouncing Noah in a way you were sure wasn’t too relaxing but you were too stressed to care. Since you had ruined dinner, you were ransacking the cupboard looking for something easy and fast.

The smoke alarm had silenced, telling you Harry had done what you asked. Now the siren had stopped and it was much easier to think, you felt terrible about the way you had snapped at Harry and Luna.

Finding a box of macaroni and cheese, you decided that would have to do for tonight’s dinner. You turned to see Harry leaning against the island counter, eyebrows furrowed and watching you with careful eyes. You sighed, knowing what the look on his face meant.

“What?” You threw the box on the counter and rested your hand on your hip. Luna was gone, no doubt she had put up a fight when Harry led her out the kitchen. Noah had quietened with small whimpers sounding every few seconds.

Harry shrugged and put his hands up in surrender. He walked to stand in front of you and brushed your cheek with the back of his hand. Your head was cradled in his large hand and he pulled you forward for a kiss. Then he took Noah out of your arms, you let out a sigh of relief from the pain your arm was in for holding him to long.

He took a step back and mouthed three words. ‘I love you.’ With that he signaled he would check on Luna and exited the kitchen. You breathed in some air, thankful for the minute alone. However, the guilt of your abrupt snap weighs on your chest. For now, you would have to forget about it and make dinner.


You stood in the doorway of your ensuite later that night, brushing your teeth, as you watched Harry move about the space of the bedroom getting ready for bed. Dinner was quiet. You had to get up numerous times to see to Noah and didn’t get a chance to eat your food before it went cold.

Harry insisted on getting Noah and Luna to sleep but both kids were reliant on a story or soft whispers to lull them to sleep. Harry could do neither.

Now that both kids were sleeping soundly and the only sounds heard were the scuffling of Harry’s feet on the carpet and the bristles of your toothbrush on your teeth, you could feel some of the stress from the day lifting off your shoulders.

He looked up at you after some time, feeling your gaze on him. With a smile, he raised his eyebrows as if to ask you if you needed anything. You giggled around your toothbrush at his expression, foam from the toothpaste dribbling out of your mouth.

He shook his head and silently chuckled at you, pointing in the direction of the sink, prompting you to finish getting ready for bed. When you emerged from the bathroom a few minutes later, the only light came from the lamp on Harry’s side of the bed.

He sat against the headboard, a book in his hands, reading glasses perched on his nose. You stood and stared again, enjoying the view way too much. Even after two kids, passion was not lacking in your relationship.

“You look very, very nice this evening, Styles.” You made your way to the bottom of the bed and crawled your way up to his legs. He lowered his book, looking down at you with a smirk and a sparkle in his eyes.

“I think apologies are in order.” You rose on your knees and sat back on your heels, settling between his legs, your hands on his thighs, inches away from his crotch. “I was incredibly rude earlier.”

He looked at you with wonder and lust. He nodded his head slightly, encouraging you to trace a finger up his thigh and circle it around his cock, feeling it hardening under your touch. You gave him an innocent look, but his eyes were closed, veins producing from his neck as he fought to stay quiet.

Your hand stopped its stroking and you worked on getting his underwear past his hips, his erection free from the confinements.

“I think you’ve been quiet for long enough, baby.” And with that, you took him into your mouth, feeling the length of him fill your mouth. It started off with whimpers, however when he came, he couldn’t stop the yell tearing through his throat.

I probably shouldn’t have laughed but I did. My Sim had the hots for the guy that dropped off her puppy from the animal shelter so I bumped up their friendship meter with a cheat and invited him over. They started dating and I wanted to see his house but I couldn’t find it so I decided to invite him over and then send him back home to see where he lived. He ran over to the next building (an apartment building) and went to sleep on the bench in the lobby as seen here. OMG, he’s homeless! I guess it makes sense, characters like him are just kind of generated as they were needed, but nonetheless it made me laugh and feel bad at the same time.
So then this is where it got better: I had her leave the building and then re-enter and he disappeared without a trace. However he did show up on the call box (as if he lived in the building) so I called him with the call box to ask him to buzz me in and he ran through the front door again to greet me. So strange.

Wolf of Spring Ch. 2

Chapter 2: “I didn’t think you would come back, lassie.”

Tamlin could rarely distinguish truth from reality. Sometimes, there are days when the two converge together, leaving him more confused than ever. Today  would be one of them. Then, there’s the matter of the women residing in his court, vying for his attention to marry him. Would he ever find a suitable woman to marry, let alone love?

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Illegal (Part 2)- Park Jimin Racer!AU

Originally posted by totallyyehet

Genre: Fluff/ Comedy/ Angst

Pairing: JiminxReader

Word count: 5.000k

Summary: During your staying in your grandmother’s house you meet Jimin and discover the night life that’s beyond the calm appearence of the town.


“Jimin! They are looking for- Oh.” The browned haired guy stopped talking as soon as he noticed the girl kissing his cheek. You must have had a sad expression on your face because he sent you an apologetic smile, and stayed by your side during the whole scene.

You should have known better than to get attached to people by now. You have experienced all this before, and you knew the pain that you had felt, so why risk it all again?

You still were standing still, in the exact same position, looking at them. Jimin, however, had backed away from the girl and was scratching his neck nervously.

“Hey” The boy whispered “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?” You answered. Your voice trembled a bit, much to yours distaste, but you kept a smile on your face anyways.

“Well” Jimin said, clearing his throat “Jungkook, you were saying?”

“Oh, yeah, some people said that they wanted to talk to you. About that stuff” The brown haired guy, whose name was Jungkook, said. The colours drained from Jimin´s face as soon as he finishes talking, and you couldn’t help but to wonder why.

The wind starts to blow stronger and some leaves started to get stuck on your hair. Jimin laughed at your sight and you blushed, looking down at the hem of your dress.

It was quiet among the four of you for a while, the only background noise being some people´s loud cheers and the sound of engines running. You had a thousand questions running through your head right now, about whom that girl was and why she had kissed him. It didn’t make any sense to you. You actually thought that maybe, just maybe, he liked you, but once again, you were wrong.

Jungkook started walking away from you, into the middle of the crowd and waved at Jimin, mentioning for him to follow him. Jimin sent you two a small smile before going after him, leaving you two alone behind.

It continued to be quiet for a while until she spoke up.

“I’m Peyton, by the way.” She smiled nicely at you.

“Y/N. It’s nice meeting you.” You smiled back.

“I know who you are, I have heard a lot about you.” You widen your eyes at her statement, but she didn’t seem to notice, as she continued speaking “He is very handsome, isn’t he?” She pointed at Jimin and you nodded shyly, agreeing with her. She had a sad tone to her voice, like she felt bad or had regretted something that had to do with him.

“He is” You finally answer, playing with your dress. You focus on Jimin for a while, on the way he was smiling at people, and how relaxed he looked in the middle of everyone. He seemed to be very popular around here, adored by all, and you couldn’t help but to think about what he had seen in you to want to get to know you better. There were a ton of interesting people in this town, with life story that could go behind your imagination, yet, he had chosen you, and you were confused by it.

“I still remember the first time he came up to me” She said. You could see that she really cared for him, from the way she talked to the way she looked at him.

You had this feeling that she didn’t knew about the way you felt towards Jimin to be talking about him like that, but again, neither did you.

“I-I got to go, it’s getting late and my grandma must be waiting for me at home.” You said while starting to walk away. You brushed your hair behind your ears and smiled at her, apologetically. Even though you wanted to wait for Jimin and Jungkook to say goodbye to them, you just couldn’t handle the fact of Peyton talking about him like that without feeling a pain in your chest.

“Can’t you just stay for a few more minutes? I love your company!” She pleaded, battling her eyelashes at you. You had to admit that she was a very pretty person, with blonde hair and chocolate brown eyes, no wonder that Jimin liked her.

“I’m sorry but I really have to go. But it was very nice talking to you!” You said and walked away.

It was starting to get a bit cold and you regretted coming out here without bringing a coat with you. You rubbed your hands up and down your arms in hopes of warming yourself up while you thought about what had happened.

The way Jimin talked to you and looked at you, allied to what the green haired boy had said, made you feel like he did, in  fact, cared about you, and if you even dared to say, liked you. However, there was this whole Peyton thing. She was a very sweet girl, and nice too, and from the little talk you had with her you could see that she really liked Jimin. And he seemed to be found of her too, by the way he had reacted to her kiss.

It was at time like this that you would like to have Taehyung around, to just talk this all out. It may not seem like this for other people due to the fact that he is a bit air headed, but he is great at listening and giving advices.

You thought about calling him because you knew that he would pick up – he always stayed up late looking for new animal species on Wikipedia- but it was already late, and you were very tired.

You tried to walk as fast as you could to your grandmother’s house since you hated walking alone, especially at night.

The whole town had so much more to it than you imagined, so much life. It was a beautiful sight now that you think about it, with the lights, the people and the adrenaline.

You knocked on your grandma’s door and prayed that she was still awake, otherwise, you would have to sleep on the little wooden bench that she had on her front porch.

“Y/N? Is that you darling?” A voice said from the living room as you opened the door. She was sitting on the couch in her purple nightgown, watching the late night shows on Food Network.

“Yeah, it’s me, grandma.” You answered.

“So?” She asked, excited “How was it, your date?”

She patted the spot next to her on the couch as if mentioning for you to sit down next to her. The look of tiredness in her eyes seemed to disappear the moment you sat, cross legged, besides her.

“First, it wasn’t a date. And second, everything went just fine.” You said, relaxing your back against the sofa. You didn’t know whether or not you should tell her about the race, since you were almost sure that that wasn’t something they wanted other people to know about. Even if it was your grandfather that had taught him that.

“Whatever you say” She threw her hands in the air as a sign of defeat. “But, did you two kissed?”

“What?! Grandma!” You covered your face in embarrassment.

“What? Did you or not?”

“No!”

“You two are no fun! The first time your grandfather invited me somewhere, he kissed me right on the first minute. I slapped him away, but at least he made a move!”

You lay your head on her shoulders as she patted you lovingly on your head. She runs her wrinkled fingers through your hair and you close your eyes, relaxing at her touch.

“If my dad calls, don’t tell him about Jimin and all of this, me going out and such” You plead “He might get a heart attack if he gets to know that.”

“Okay sweetie”

“Thanks. I don’t want him to get worried unnecessarily.”

The both of you stayed like that for a while, not moving a single muscle. It felt good being next to your grandmother. She and your dad were the only people you allowed yourself to get attached to. And Tae has well, of course.

After your mother left you, your grandma called every day to check up on you. She was there during the whole things, right next to you and your father in case of any of you fell down again. And you were grateful for that.

“It’s getting a bit late, don’t you think?” Your grandmother said pointing at the clock that she had on the living room’s wall.

“Yeah, I’m going to go to bed now. Night grandma” You responded, kissing her cheek.

You get off the sofa and walk up the stairs, towards your bedroom. Changing tor your pyjamas and after brushing your teeth tiredly, you hop inside your bed, adjusting yourself to the covers and your head to your pillow.


“Glad you remembered my existence” Taehyung said into the phone speaker. You were laying flat back on your bed, staring at the ceiling, bored out of your mind when you decided to call him.

“What? Don’t tell me you were missing me already?” You joked.

“Oh, you could tell?” He laughed. You hear the sound of a woman’s voice in the background indicating that he was at his house, probably for his little brother soccer match, otherwise he would be at his apartment playing some random video games. Or Overwatch. That boy was crazy for Overwatch.

“Anyways” You hear him say “How is everything around there? Found someone to replace me yet?”

“I could never replace you, otherwise I wouldn’t have someone to pester me all day”

“Glad to know that” He replied.

“But I’ve met some cool people that I think you would like to be friends with. One of them pestered me so much yesterday that it reminded me of you.” You laugh. It was starting to be a little bit dark inside your room so you decide to get up and open the curtains more.

“Really? You have to introduce that person to me so that we can form an Annoy-Y/N-Association. But really, what is he like?”

“Well, his name is Park Jimin and- “ You start saying but get interrupted right away.

“Wait a minute. “his name”? Is he a boy? What does your grandmother think about that?”

“She loves it, even a little bit too much. She had even asked me if we had kissed yet.” You say.

“Well, and did you?” He pressed. When were you going to learn to keep your mouth shut.

“No, we are just friends. Besides, I think he likes someone else, and that person likes him too.” You say, sitting against the headboard.

“Oh, I’m sorry” He said.

“Don´t be, you didn’t do anything.” You laughed “Now tell me, what have you been up to?”

“You know, the usual. Nothing new ever happens around here. Do you know when you are coming back?” He asked.

“I still don’t know, two months, maybe? I want to make up to my grandmother for all the times I couldn’t visit, you know?”

“Yeah I see” He says and you her some muffling voices in the background” Look, Y/N, I would love to talk to you more but I have to go, my brother is being a pain in my ass. Call me if you need anything, okay? And don’t hesitate!”

“Don’t worry, I will. Bye Tae” You smiled even though you knew that he couldn’t see you.

“Bye Y/N, take care” He says and then hangs up.

You turn your phone off and put it on your jean’s back pocket. You let yourself stand still on the bed for a bit longer than necessary, breathing slowly with your eyes closed, before deciding to get out of your bedroom.

Your grandmother was outside, gardening, wearing a big yellow hat and some gardening gloves. She was watering the roses and cutting some of them out, along with their thorns, so that she could put them in the living room. You sat on the bench that was on the front porch and crossed your legs. You used to sit outside all day back at your home with your mother before she left. She used to tell you some of the small adventures she had lived and about the countries she had visited. Some other times she would invite you to go and help her around in the garden, which always resulted in the two of you getting wet by the hose.

“Oh, you are out here already?” Your grandmother asked, cleaning the sweat of her forehead with her hands.

“Yeah, Taehyung had to end the call so… Do you need any help?” You offer.

“No, no, it’s okay. I can do it.” She said. “But darling could you do me a tiny favour?”

“Yeah”

“Could you go to the kitchen and bring me a glass of water?” You nodded in response. Your grandma starts to hum a song to herself as you got up and walked inside.

It’s around four in the afternoon and the sun is up high. There are a lot of people outside, walking around, and stooping here and there to great her, and some of them actually asked if she needed any help, which she always declined.

You open the fridge and take out a bottle of cold water. Opening one of the cupboards, you take out one glass and fill it up.

By the time you get outside you notice someone talking to your grandma.

“There she is” She says, pointing at you. The minute she steps away from the person, you come face to face with someone very familiar. Park Jimin.

“Hey, I was just asking her about you.” He smiled “I wanted to ask you if you wanted to come and hang out with us.”

“Us?” you asked, confused.

“Yeah, me, Jungkook, Yoongi, Peyton and some others.”

“Oh,” You felt divided. On one hand you wanted to go and hang out with them since it seemed fun and they were very nice people to be around. On the other hand, there was this whole Jimin thing that you were trying to figure out. “I don’t know. My grandma needs me here and-“

“Nonsense” She interrupted. You didn’t even realize she was standing right behind you. “Y/N, you should go, have fun. Don’t worry about me, I‘ll be fine”

She shushed you out of her house with her gardening gloves and next to Jimin, and you couldn’t help but to laugh at her actions. You tried to argue as she did so, but it didn’t work out. Jimin didn’t say anything during the whole scene, as he just stayed back and watched with a big grin on his face.

“Don’t forget to call if you need anything!” She yelled when you and Jimin started to walk away.

“You left me quite worried last night ” He said after a while.

“Why?” You furred your eyebrows in confusion.

“When I went back, I didn’t see you anywhere. I asked Peyton about you and she said that you had already left”

“Oh, that. It was getting late and I got to go to my grandmother’s. And I didn’t tell you anything because I didn’t want to bother you. Besides, I’m a big girl, you know?” You joked.

Unexpectedly, Jimin stopped as grasped your arm with his hand, pulling you back and making you collide with his chest. He slid his hand under your chin and you blushed at the contact. Embarrassed by your reaction, you tear your eyes away from him and focus on the ground.

“Hey” he said, tilting your chin up so that you were looking at his eyes. “Look at me. You would never in a million years, be a burden to me. I care about you, okay? And the idea of you walking around, alone at night, it just… If anything had happened to you I could never forgive myself.”

Your heart started to beat hard against your ribcage and your face became really hot. You have never blushed this hard in your entire life.

“Do you understand?” He asked, his eyes going back and forth between yours. You simply nodded in response, not trusting your voice. “Good”

He stepped away from you and kept walking as if nothing had happened- You, however, stayed still since you were a bit taken aback by his actions, so it took you a while to catch up with him.

“So,” He stated “Did you choose a favourite colour already?”

“I have thought about it” You say.

“You have?” Jimin asked, surprised, and you hummed in response. “So, have you decided on one yet?”

“No” You simply answered, shrugging.

“What do you mean with “no”?” He stopped in front, with his arms stretched out and eyes wide open. The people that were walking pass the two of you were giving Jimin some funny looks, but he stayed still, not bothered by it.

“There are a lot of colours in the world, how do you want me to choose just one? Especially this quick?” You answer, dodging his arms and continuing to walk straight ahead on the sidewalk.

“So, that means that you are still thinking about it?” He ran after you with a hopeful look in his eyes.

His orange hair seemed brighter than the usual under the sunlight and his skin looked more tanned, more beautiful. However there was this thing that he always had and that never changed, his smile.

“Yup.”

“Thank God” He sighed, dramatically, with his hand on his chest.

He took out a pair of round sunglasses and put them on his face. Jimin started to walk closer to you, to the point where he put his arm around your shoulder, making a hint of colour to start taking place on your cheeks.

“Let’s try this again, and I hope that you have an answer to this one. So, Y/N, tell me, do you have a favourite animal?” He said, stretching his arms behind his head and ruffling his hair.

“As a matter of fact, I do.” You stated and stuck your tongue out at him.

“Then tell me woman, you are killing me here.” He said, excited.

“Ducks”

“What?” He asked.

“Ducks are my favourite animals” You repeat.

“See this is what I am talking about. I’m trying to like you, I really am. But you are making that impossible to me.” He groaned.

“What do you mean?” You ask, confused. You had no idea about what you had done wrong. He asked you a question and you simply answered it.

“You like ducks. How can you like ducks?”

“So, let me get this straight. You can’t fully like me because my favourite animals are ducks?” You laughed. He certainly was something else.

“Yeah. Ducks are evil creatures with tiny wings.” He exaggerated.

“No they are not! How can you say that? First of all, they are very cute and adorable. And secondly, you have the same hair colour as their beak, how can you even hate them?”

“Well, for starts, they obviously copied me on that whole hair colour thing. And second, they are not cute, they are tiny deadly weapons!” He said gesticulating everywhere.

“Deadly?” You laughed at his words. “Give me an example, then.”

“Well… I hum… I got attacked by one of them one day.” He said and looked away, embarrassed.

“You what?”

“Don’t make say that again.” He covered his red face in and you couldn’t help but to chuckle at his reaction.

“What did you do for the duck to attack you?”

“That’s the thing, I didn’t do anything!” He said, obviously frustrated “It must have been like “Oh, there is Park Jimin, how about I just peck the soul out of him?”

You couldn’t control yourself anymore. You just started laughing out loud, not caring if anyone would think you were crazy or not. Some tears started to prick free from your eyes and your stomach began to ache. Jimin did, however, start to laugh too, much to your surprise.

You didn’t even know what you two might seem at the moment, but honestly you didn’t care. And neither did he.

“This is it” He announced pointing at the café.

There was a group of people sat outside in some chairs and tiny sofas speaking loudly. There was a metal table in the middle of them and an umbrella shielding them from the sun. The café had a relaxed felling to it with the wooden door and the big windows that decorated its walls.

“Guys, this is Y/N” He said and you smiled at them. You knew some of them, such as Jungkook, the green haired boy and Peyton, but the other faces were unfamiliar to you. She smiled at you and mentioned for you to seat between her and another girl that had pink hair, on the small sofa. Jimin, however, sat on one of the chairs, right in front of you.

“Can you believe her favourite animals are ducks?” He said and you scratched your arm in embarrassment.

“Wait. Did you tell her about “the duck incident”?” Jungkook asked in between laughs. The rest of them started laughing too, as if they were all remembering it. “You should have seen his face, he looked like he had just shit himself! And his scream! He looked like a little girl!”

“Yeah, yeah. Very funny.”Jimin said rolling his eyes. “You can laugh all you want, but it wasn’t you who was being pecked to death.” Jimin responded.

After a while they all got back to chatting. You were expecting to be uncomfortable, since you barely knew anyone besides Jimin, but they were so carefree and friendly to be around that you started to actually enjoy hanging out with them.

“Guys,” A guy interrupted, getting up from his spot. He waved all around to try and catch everybody’s attention while taking his wallet from his back pocket. “I’m going to buy a pack of cigarettes, anyone want one?”

Everyone shook their heads no except for Jimin who was looking at you with a blank expression. His face was unreadable, and you thought that he was probably thinking about what you had said to him the last time he smoked around you.

What about you Jimin, want one?“

“No, thanks Jin. I’m good” He said and smiled, still not tearing his eyes away from yours.

Everybody’s face had the same expression on it. Shock. Like it was the first time he had ever declined a pack of cigarettes. The green haired boy, however, was smiling proudly at him.

“What?” Jimin asked, confused, while looking at their reactions.

“Nothing. It’s just it’s the first time I have ever seen you saying no to a pack of cigarettes. I’m just… shocked, I guess.” Jungkook said, shaking his head.

“What made you change your mind so quickly?” Jin asked. He still hasn’t moved since Jimin said no to him, which had shocked and made him curious at the same time, as well as everyone else.

“Did you know that each cigarette takes away eleven minutes of your life ?” He says, quoting you. “And that’s eleven minutes less that I get to spend with the people I care about.”

He winked at you and you stared at the ground, blushing hard. However, nobody seemed to notice that as they were all looking at them with their eyes wide open. You really wanted to believe in his words, that he cared about you, but you couldn’t seem to fully do that, especially when Peyton was sitting next to you, and you knew he had some kind of feelings for her. Or so it seemed like.

“I’m proud of you man” Jungkook said while patting him on his back.

“Well if you put it that way…” Jin responded, sitting down “I guess there is no pack of cigarettes for me either”

You bitt your bottom lip trying to hold in a smile. You felt proud of him and of everyone else too.

“Hey, what do you say about we play some darts?” The pink haired girl said.

“Sounds good to me” Jungkook answered, getting up.

“Are you kidding me? I just sat down” Jin growled.

Everyone got up and walked inside. The interior of the cafe was the complete opposite that you were expecting. It was big, full of light and of colour as well. There was a counter filled with drinks, glasses and machines on the right side and the rest of the place was filled with little wooden tables and couches. On a little area there was only two sets of darts, which meant that some of you had to wait for their turn.

“Jeon Jungkook, come on then. I’m going to beat your ass” Jimin said while taking his jacket and handing it over to you.

“Ha ha, you are really funny, did you know that?” He said as they walked away in the direction of the first one.

“Y/N, do you mind if I play with her first?” Peyton asked.

“No, go ahead. I will sit for a while.” You smiled at her and sat on the sofa, next to the boy with the green hair.

“Yoongi, my man, I’m going to the bathroom so-”

“That’s some unnecessary information, don’t you think?” He laughed and joined you on the couch.

You two sat back watching the others play in silence until Yoongi spoke up.

“Y/N, do you like Jimin?” He suddenly asked, out of nowhere.

“I what?”

“I asked you if you liked Jimin.” He simply stated.

“Why are you asking me that?” You questioned him. If you didn’t know how to respond to that question to yourself how the heck were you going to answer that to him?

“I have seen the way he looks at you and you looked at him. And there is this whole cigarette thing that left us all a bit taken a back. The others might not have noticed but I saw him looking at you the whole time we were together outside” He ruffled his green hair, still focused on the people who were playing.

“I… I don’t know.” You said. “Maybe.” Normally you would feel very nervous when you were talking about this to someone but Yoongi was such a relaxed person that you got more relaxed yourself. “It doesn’t matter anyways. I know he likes Peyton”

“What do you mean?”

“On the other night, Peyton kissed his cheek at he stepped back, blushing.”

“Do you have a first love Y/N?” He asked.

“Yeah, why?”

“If that person came up to you and kissed your cheek wouldn’t that make you blush? However that wouldn’t make your feelings for Jimin go away, would it?” You played with the hem of your shirt as he talked. You were listening to every word carefully and absorbing each one.

“You are right.”

“Peyton was Jimin’s first love. He liked her a lot but she never really cared about him. But recently, she started noticing him more but he doesn’t reciprocate those feelings for her anymore.”

Oh.

“But, could you make me a favour?” He asked.

“Yeah, I think so.” You took a bit longer to process what he had just said. Was he saying the truth? Did Jimin not have feelings for Peyton? And more importantly, did you actually liked Jimin? It was a whole lot of new information to process.

“Be careful, please. With yourself and with him.” He said and you nodded your head.

“So, what did I miss?” Jin interrupted, sitting next to Yoongi.

“Nothing” He responded. “Surprisingly, Jimin is winning”

You blocked their voices out of your head and focused only on Jimin. He was laughing at something that Jungkook had done, his eyes all wrinkled and his teeth showing. His orange hair was pushed off his forehead with his sunglasses and his arm muscles were showing. He noticed you staring at him and smiled at you, followed by a wink and launch of one arrow.

“That´s not fare!” Jungkook whined while Jimin did his victory dance.

The door suddenly opened which made you cover your eyes with your hands from all the light that was getting in. A group of people came in and closed the door loudly and aggressively behind them. They had an angry expression on their faces, like they were ready to beat someone up.

“Where the hell is Park Jimin?!” One of them yelled.

Oh boy.

Streets (Jason Todd x Reader)

Summary: You are Bruce’s biological daughter, but you only know that since a few weeks.
You used to live on the streets and Jason and your path is linked closely (I know that timeline wise this might not fit, but whatever okay?)

Warnings: kinda fluff af, long

»»»
You were still not used to waking up in a smooth bed, underneath silky sheets in clean clothes.
You were not used to your bare feet on cold marble floor or fancy carpet.
But you were certainly not used to a butler, a father and his seemingly million adopted kids.

Your mother had a one night stand with non other than Bruce Wayne out of which you evolved.
Your mother never told you and she in general should never have been a mom in the first place.
Most of your teenage years you were living on the streets, but one night, a few weeks ago Bruce stood in front of you. He informed you about your mothers death, that she sent him a letter with a DNA test in her last days and that he was searching for you ever since.

You wanted to read the letter, but Bruce didn’t allow it.

“Good morning, Miss (Y/N). Have you slept well?” Alfred asked genuinely interested and sweet like every morning. For some reason you always managed to be the first to find the way out of bed, despite your insomnia.

“I have. Have you?” You flashed him a quick smile and reached for a towel, helping him with dishes.

Alfred nodded and took the towel from you replacing it with a cup of coffee. “Jason stayed over. I think you have not met yet.”

You flinch at the name. “Another one?”

You didn’t want to feel this bitterness, but you just couldn’t help and think how funny it was that Bruce played father for so many and didn’t even know he had a biological daughter who was caught in the middle of Gotham’s gang war. Feeling this was a waste of time and you tried your best to ignore it.

You sat on the couch, turning on the news and Titus laid down beside you with his head on your lap.
Nothing too shocking happened, well, nothing too shocking for your standards.

A young man trotted in and fell on the two persons couch that was standing across from the one you sat on. His arm was laying over his face, blocking the light off.
He was tall and muscular, very, and his dark hair was messy, falling on his forehead.
After some moments he sat up and rubbed the sleep from his eyes before looking at you with piercing blue eyes that for some reason seemed painfully familiar, but maybe it was just his name and value it held to you.

“Jason.” You nodded, trying to smile.

“(Y/N).” He returned the gesture.

You waited for him to throw all sorts of questions at you like Dick and Damian did, almost interrogating you, but they never came and you were thankful.
Alfred placed a cup of coffee on the coffee table.

“Thanks, Alfred,” Jason said. His voice was raspy and witty.

“Always, Master Jason.”

»»»»

Later that day Jason stood in front of the big window front, looking out at the dock where you sat with your feet in the water of the lake.
Something about you was familiar, but Jason just couldn’t point his finger at it.

“You should go and talk to her. I think you would get along well.” Alfred suddenly stood beside him.

“Nah, bet–”

“Please, Jason… for me.”

Jason turned his eyes away from you and glared at Alfred. He sighed. “Now I have to and you know it, Alfred. I did not expect such a card from you.” Jason threw his hands in the air and walked outside. Alfred grinned and gave you and him privacy.

“Okay, casual.” He muttered to himself, taking deep, encouraging breaths. Your back was turned towards him, but Jason walked loudly to make sure you didn’t jump and fall into the water.

“Hey, (Y/N). May I sit?” He made his voice sound cool and his hands were in the pocket of his hoodie.

You simply nodded and focused back on the water.

“It’s a little melancholy here.” Jason realized soon. “Are you alright?”

“You want the honest answer or the one where I lie to not make things awkward?” You asked playfully but dead serious. People did that a lot. Asking how someone was and expecting to hear a good, then not knowing how to deal with anything else.

Jason chuckled. You looked at him.

“I think I can handle the honest one.”

You sighed heavily. “This is just all too much. Everything. I used to sleep on benches and cardboard, now in that bed I feel like sleeping on a marshmallow, or I used to search for something to eat in the garbage and Damian took two bites of his sandwich and threw it away today.
And Alfred.
He is so sweet and nice and does everything and it makes me feel guilty.”

“You lived on the streets?” Jason narrowed his eyes at you. “No one told me.” He saw the confusion on your face and realized only now how judging it must have sounded to you. “I… I used to as well. Before Bruce took me in.”

The expression on your face softened.

“It never really goes away, to be honest. You can take the kid from the street, but not the street out of the kid.”

“Hm.” You thought about it.

“And Alfred; that’s just him. We all don’t deserve him, yes, but that’s his nature. It’s hard to not feel guilty, I know, but Alfred knows we all appreciate him. He’s not expecting anything from us, well, that we take care of ourselves.”

“Hm.”

“Damian is just in general a brat.”

You laughed and a smile spread on Jason’s lips. He liked the way you laughed, it made him want to hear more, tell a million jokes.
Did he know a good joke at all? He knew the ones Roy told, but they were all garbage.

“Something about you is super familiar, Jason.” You confessed. “I just don’t know what.”

“Actually, same!” He nodded and looked ahead. “Maybe we find out after a race to the other shore.”

“Are you serious?” You glared at him.

Jason shrugged. “Well, only if you can sw– THAT’S NOT FAIR PLAY!” He yelled as you already jumped into the water. Jason kicked his shoes off and followed, jumping in head first.

When you arrived at the other side both of you were out of breath, laying down on the grass.

“That was more exhausting than expected.” Jason shook his head, getting water out of his hair. It fell in heavy streaks on his forehead, making water drip over his cheeks.

You admired his appearance for a few seconds before finding your voice. “Maybe you should do more cardio instead weight lifting.”

“Ha!” He laughed. “I still won.”

“Nah, you didn’t!” You shoved at his arm, laughing with him for some moments, then got up and held your hand out. Jason grabbed it and pulled himself up and was now very close to you.

Each of you cleared their throats in awkwardness and stepped away. This exact moment felt like it had happened before, like a déjà-vu and both of you felt it.

“I assume we walk back.” You were hugging yourself, feeling how the cold nipped at your skin slowly but surely making it’s way through the wet clothes that were clinging to your body.

Jason nodded and you two found a slow but steady pace, almost trying to make the way longer than it was.

“Can I ask you something?” Jason said after a while.

“Sure.”

“Isn’t it sorta hard to know Bruce adopted so many children and didn’t know he had a biological daughter that needed his help just as much? I don’t know about you, but I’d be pissed.”

“But why wasting time? I can be bitter and grumpy or I can just enjoy becoming part of this, to witness living in a intact family with a roof over my head.”

“That’s mature.”

You scoffed. “It has been a long way and to be completely honest, yes, I’m a little salty.”

“How that?” He frowned.

“I’ve lost someone to that whole gang crap and after that the only thing I was able to feel was rage and anger. I was willing to kill people and set whole Gotham afire. It’s not a time I like to remember, but I try to be better than that now.”

“Oh, I’ve been there, too.” Jason chuckled. “You have no idea.”

“What happened?”

Jason glanced at the sky and sighed and you only knew one person who ever did it just like Jason now.
It hit you like a bolt, making your system crash down entirely. You lip quivered and your hands shook, your knees were made of jelly all of a sudden.

“Are yo–”

You jumped into his arms and let your tears run free. Your fingertips were digging into his shoulder and your feet dangled in the air.
Jason almost lost his palace.

“But they told me.” You sobbed. “I thought you died, oh my god.”

Jason’s eyes widened. His stomach turned upside down. This couldn’t– could it? Deep down he knew since moments, but pushed it away since it was impossible.

You pulled your head from his shoulder and laid your forehead against his. His wet hair was sticking to your forehead and your own locks were simply everywhere.
He let your bare feet touch the ground again and you cupped his face with your shaking hands.
Your thumb run over the scar on his cheek.
It wasn’t prominent, barely there, but you knew he had it, because you were there the night he got it.
You saved Jason from that thug who wanted gods know what from him.

“(Y/N).” His voice was a faint whisper stacked with disbelief. “(Y/N)?” He repeated.

You nodded your head violently and a smile of pure relief spread on your chapped lips. “Yes, Jason.” You stroke his hair back.

“How?” His voice broke and he buried his face into your shoulder and locked his arms around you so tightly one could think he wanted to be absorbed by you.

You two were crying now.
Happiness. Sadness. Relief.

Time seemed to blur away as you were wrapped up in each other, reunited after all those years. Now, the two of you could not believe you didn’t see it earlier. It was ridiculous.

The sun was setting when you finally pulled away.

Jason pressed his forehead to your and the two of you started to giggle and laugh. He stroke through your hair and your hands were caressing the skin of his cheeks.
Your eyes sparkled like galaxies.

“I saw your jacket, your blood soaked jacket.”

After you had saved Jason, you stayed together.
For the first time in your two lives you could trust someone entirely, for the first time you had someone who cared about you.
For the first time you two experienced love.
One morning Jason left. It was the day before your birthday and with the little money he somehow collected he wanted to buy you something nice. You told him not to, that you could spend the money on more important things, but he insisted.
Around the time Jason said he’d be back gunfire roared in the air.

“I gave the jacket to this boy because he was freezing.” He explained. “But I saw the blood where we stayed. Jerome told me you got hit, he said you died.”

You shook your head. “A bullet hit me in the leg, but ambulance was there and took me. That’s when I saw the jacket and I yelled for you and they said the boy who wore it is dead.

You two could just laugh with tears running.

“Something like this could only happen to us,” you said.

“I shouldn’t have believed him. I… I should have–”

“Shh.” You peaked his lips softly.

Jason’s knees shook. How often did he dream of you? How often did he imagine what it felt like to hold you and kiss you again?

_____

Part two where Jason finds out you’re an anti hero, protecting the kids living on the streets?
[I’m pretty okay with how this turned out. It would be nice to know what you think 💜]