there is not a single thing about him i do not like

anonymous asked:

how is harry "growing" when he's pushing for kiwi to be a single, will perform at VSFS AND recently said his misogynistic album is a MEMOIR. it's one thing to think the best of him but he's shown repeatedly this year that his idea of activism is wearing a shirt and letting other people do the talking. expect more from men, please.

What exactly am I expecting? Truth at every turn from members of One Direction? Not gonna happen. 

In the aggregate, I don’t find his album misogynistic. I understand that people do, but you’re in my inbox so I’ll walk you through my reasoning. If you don’t want my opinion, feel free not to bring asks here. 

There are 10 songs on the album, 4 of them have anything even questionable to say about women. So, already we’re at 60% of the album that isn’t a problem. Woman reads very much like a jealous lover song, that I have always read as about the beards in Louis’ life. So, we’re at 70% of the album that isn’t a problem. Carolina is a song written in a tradition of Johnny Cash and others talking about drugs. It could also be about a shelter dog, jury’s out. So, we’re at 80%. Only Angel and Kiwi can certainly be read as treating women as objects and frankly it doesn’t make me feel awesome. I also believe these are meant to be performed and that it’s about the performance and the fiction rather than the lyrics. Having seen it in LA, I also feel like Harry imagines himself the woman in Kiwi (”I’m about to tell you, I’M having your baby). But for the sake of argument, let’s keep the number at 80%. 80% of the album isn’t a problem at all. So, he’s got a B- for his first album out the gate. I’m going to cut him some slack there.

I’m also going to recognize that he is NOT OUT. So, how can he POSSIBLY answer anything other than MEMOIR? He can’t say, yeah, it’s fiction, here’s my long term BOYFRIEND. It doesn’t work like that.

As I have said before, I take issues of social justice very very seriously and spend a good chunk of my waking hours trying to figure out what has the most impact on our world. And I’ve learned over many that there are lots of types of activism. Activism doesn’t always have a bullhorn. It’s not always calling people out on Twitter. That’s not always how you change hearts and minds. Look around. People are shouting at the top of their lungs and no one is listening. I’m not saying stop shouting, but don’t hate on the people who are doing work that looks different from yours.

You make fun of Harry wearing a shirt. Do you know how many people supported Planned Parenthood by buying that shirt after he wore it? I don’t have access to those stats but I’d bet money it was significant. There are people who say running with flags doesn’t matter. I disagree. There are people who say that Harry’s Treat People With Kindness merch is just a ploy. If it is, then I’d love to see more people follow suit. There are worse things to do than want people to be kind in the world. I’ll say it again HE HAS MUNA ON TOUR WITH HIM. He has a FEMALE DRUMMER in a rock and roll band. Go find me other male musicians operating at his level that have a female drummer. He also is REGULARLY in awe of her both in print, on TV, and in person. 

You think these things aren’t a big deal because he’s not shouting. I say they ARE a big deal BECAUSE he’s not shouting. He’s not asking for any kind of recognition. He is just doing it. He’s normalizing female rock drummers. He’s normalizing rainbows at concerts. He’s normalizing the fact women are powerful.

Yep, Kiwi’s a single. You know why? It’s a JAM. I listened to all sorts of things on the way home from Phoenix with Ellie and Bri yesterday. And the jams are not songs that I want anything to do with lyrically. That doesn’t mean I’m not going to blast them in the car and sing along. Want to know other songs that are on the same jamming playlist? 24K Magic, Strip that Down, Jealous, Tik Tok, Jealous. They’re not feminist anthems but that doesn’t mean I can’t enjoy a catchy song.

As I’ve said before, I can hold complicated feelings. I can want better for the future without discounting the now. I can look at the whole rather than expecting granular perfection. But I will NOT discount what Harry is doing because it doesn’t fit your idea of what activism SHOULD look like.

BTS Scenario | them confessing to you | maknae line

here’s the maknae line. find the link to the hyung line here.


You blink away the sleep that hung heavy on your eyelids and blindly groped around for your phone, the ringtone a sudden contrast to the quiet of the night. Having found it, you sleepily answer the call and bring your phone to your ear.


“I couldn’t sleep.”

Jimin. “No reason to keep me awake.”

He sighed, and you hear a little rustling over the phone, like he was turning over in bed. “You’re right. Go back to sleep, _____.”

“No! Jimin, I was just kidding.”

Silence. You sit up, realising there was more to it than what seemed. “What’s wrong?”

“You don’t need to be alarmed, I’m not hurt or– Well, I hope you won’t be alarmed after I’ve said what I need to say.”

You relax against the headboards. “Okay. I promise not be alarmed.”

He breathed out slowly, as if mustering up courage. “You know that feeling you get when you wake up on a weekend morning sometimes? When you don’t know what’s going to happen that day but you just feel great and excited?”

Jimin’s voice was soft in your ears, his words soft enough to be a bedtime story. “Yeah.”

“And you know that feeling you get when you’re walking in a park and you see two kids holding hands and just enjoying each other’s company? Like you don’t know whether they’ll end up together or stay best friends but you just hope they do?”

You wonder if you’re dreaming, if his musical voice was only a voice that murmured in your head in that state between being asleep and awake. “Yeah.”

“And you know that feeling when you go somewhere far away and see someplace nice and you think ’maybe just one day I might move here’? ”

His dreamy words made thoughts of far away cottages and clear blue skies float through your head. Your eyelids drooped just a little bit, your heart singing in the very same vein of the emotion Jimin described.

“Well, that’s the way I feel about you.”

And suddenly you were wide awake.

Originally posted by sweaterpawsjimin


You shoved your hands into your pockets and huddled closer to yourself, trying to fight the slight chill in the air.

It was nice autumn evening, the sound of children screaming as they took full advantage of the various swings and slides filled the air in the little park. You shook your head and wrapped your fingers around your phone, still warm from the last time you checked the time.

Tae had asked you to meet him here. But where was he?

You stretched your spine, sighing in relief when you feel a few joints crack. At least the weather was nice.

“Excuse me.” A singsong voice floated up from the general height of your knee. You look down in surprise to find a little boy, barely in the fourth grade, tugging at your jacket in an attempt to gain your attention.

You look around for a parent, but on not spotting one, you crouch so the boy can talk to you comfortably. “Hey. How can I help you?”

The little boy turned red, slowing bringing his hands out from behind his back. He held a card nearly as big as him in his hands and precariously clutched a single long-stemmed flower you did not recognise. “He told me to give these to the person who looked as pretty as this flower.” He dropped them into your hands like hot coal. “You’re very pretty.”

Eyebrows raised, you settle the flower between your fingers and unfold the card. The card was very pretty in itself, with a dainty border of white lilies delicately winding itself along the sides of the pastel pink card, but the words scribbled on it caught your attention better.

I saw this in a movie once, and thought life should imitate art today. Everybody likes kids, right? Our very own little Cupid. Only if– you know…you like like me back as much as I like like you. And if you don’t, then blink twice, and I’ll walk away.

There was no name, no indication towards who had written such an asinine love letter, but you knew all the same.

You grinned and looked up. “Would you show me who ga-”

But there was no trace of the supposed Cupid to your love story. In place of an awkward fourth grader’s adoring eyes stood a pair of gorgeous legs that belonged to the very man you wanted to see at that moment.

Tae grinned down at you. “I had to pay the kid five bucks. You’re still pretty, though. And you didn’t blink. No turning back now.”

Originally posted by fairybcby


To say that it had been a tiring day was an understatement.

You dropped your keys on top of the shoe rack and wearily slipped off your shoes. Your roommate had long left for her shift, you would have been back home hours ago only if you hadn’t offered to help with ‘just a little bit’ of paperwork.

You let your bag drop to the floor and trudge to the living room, hoping for a spot of TV before turning in for the night.

But no. The room was in shambles. Cushions were strewn about on the floor, newspaper shredded and discarded in what seemed like the most violent (and one-sided) knife fight ever. And was that…was that dog food on the rug? Of course, the only culprits you could begin to imagine was the reason behind this mess was the cute dog and the even cuter boy on your living room floor, both equally dead to the world.

“Jeon Jungkook, you wake your ass up or I swear you’ll never touch another gaming console again!”

Jungkook sprung upright as if he was shocked awake (which, in a way, he was). “______!” He looked around him, as if he was just realising he’d slept through the end of the world. “I– ”He swore and looked down at the dog draped across his lap, quite peacefully unaware of the situation. “Ah, shit.”

“That’s right.”

He groaned and leaned back on his hands, screwing his eyes shut. “He was supposed to be a surprise!”

You sigh and pick up an abandoned pillow. “You surprised me alright.”

He winced and opened an eye. “Are you mad?” Cringing at his own question he let his head fall back again. “Of course you’re mad.”

You click your tongue and settle down beside him, still clutching the pillow. “No, I’m not mad, I just– ” You reach out with a few fingers, letting them run through the silky fur of the puppy. “I just don’t understand.”

Jungkook ducked his head, the red already spreading across the bridge of his nose. “Your roommate let me in. I thought you’d be back home earlier, but I guess I dropped off waiting for you. Then…” He sent an adoring frown in the direction of the seemingly innocent little thing, quite comfortable in his lap. “I guess he got to work.”

You crack a smile at how strikingly similar the boy and puppy in front of you seemed to you. You rub the dog’s silky ears between your fingers. “At least he’s cute.” You melt as the dog whines in its sleep when you rub its neck. “Very cute. But why bring him here?”

This time Jungkook blushes fiercely, sparing no inch of skin. “Because…” He swallowed. “I’m in puppy love with you?”

You freeze. “You destroyed my living room…for a pun?”

Jungkook groaned for the second time that evening and hid his face against your shoulder. “I’m never listening to Jin-hyung again.”

Originally posted by jeovkks

phew, i’m tired. requests are closed. you can find hyung line here.

more than you know - bts jungkook fluffy imagine thingy

Originally posted by jkguks

word count: 1,354

member: Jungkook

genre: kinda like a fluff and I want it so bad omg 

warnings: I used the word “ass” once

it’s kinda based on the song “more than you know” by Axwell Λ Ingrosso and by kinda I mean totally lol

You’ve never felt like you were particularly special. You liked the person you were but you couldn’t imagine someone falling head over heels for you. You always tried your best, you had things you were extremely passionate about and you stuck by them. And people liked you. You weren’t the most popular person ever but somehow your rather bright personality seemed to attract a lot of people to you. 

Jungkook was one of those people. He always found himself magnetised by you and it made him terrified. He never felt this way about anyone, he never had to run after anyone. You were so much different from people he knew, your smile was genuine, your eyes bright and you always seemed to be a few steps ahead of him.

He didn’t want to admit it but he was going crazy for you. And you knew. You noticed how he was always close, how he treated you different than all the other people. You weren’t exactly sure what was going on but you definitely knew something was up. You could feel the tension between you two. 

One of your favorite bands was in town and you couldn’t be more excited. You got the tickets months in advance and when the day of the concert finally came around you were ecstatic. None of your friends listened to this band so you were going alone but you didn’t mind at all. Getting ready you couldn’t stop smiling like an idiot. When you finally got to the venue, a good couple of hours before the show to make sure you’d get the best possible place, you noticed there were already some people there. You walked up to them, introduced yourself and sat down with them, talking, singing and laughing your ass off. After about an hour or so, you saw a familiar someone approaching the venue. 

Jungkook loved going to concerts. Being in the crowd and screaming the lyrics on the top of his lungs was one of his favourite feelings in the world. He decided to get to the venue 2 hours before they were supposed to open the gates, to have a somewhat good place in the crowd. He wasn’t expecting to meet anyone he knew there, but as he was approaching the venue he heard a laugh that could belong to one person only. It kinda made his heart skip a beat but he decided it was his chance, maybe one in a million.

“Hey Y/N! I didn’t expect to meet you here!” he greeted you, smiling and forcing himself to stay put. You smiled back and waved at him to sit on the ground next to you. “It’s good to see you! Guys, this is Jungkook, we go to school together” you introduced him to your newly met friends and they all greeted him warmly. He sat right next to you, your knees and shoulders touching, and you both noticed that. He was discussing the band’s latest single with one of the girls from the group and you looked over at him, noticing how sharp his jawline was, how soft his skin looked and how stunning his smile was. “What’s up with me?” you thought shaking your head. You never really thought of him like that before but he really was sweet and funny and you felt good around him. You shook your head again, trying to get rid of the ridiculous thoughts.

Fast forward to the concert, you were holding Jungkook’s hand, trying to squeeze through the crowd to be in the first row. Maybe it wasn’t the nicest thing to do but you didn’t care. He was laughing behind you, you both already had a bit to drink and the tension between you two completely disappeared. “You’re gonna break someone’s leg if you keep doing that!” he yelled so you could hear him over the music and you just laughed. You finally managed to get to the railing, holding onto it like your life depended on it. You felt Jungkook’s chest press against your back as he stood right behind you and you felt a smile pulling on your lips. “That way we won’t get lost” he whispered in your ear, hot breath tickling your neck. You turned your head to look at him and smiled, nodding. “Don’t you mind not being in the first row?” you asked but he quickly shook his head. “Nope, as long as you’re the one in front of me” you felt yourself blush at his answer and turned around to make sure he wouldn’t notice. But he did. 

The alcohol running through his veins made him brave and he was greatful for it. He finally had the courage to talk to you and what you were doing now was waaay better than talking. You were dancing in front of him, swaying your hips with your hands in the air, eyes closed. He couldn’t stop smiling as he watched you sing on the top of your lungs, sweat forming on your forehead. In his eyes, you looked like the most beautiful creature to ever exist. 

The show ended around midnight and you found yourself sitting in the passenger seat of Jungkook’s car. “I don’t wanna go home yet” you admitted as you shyly took his hand in yours. “Me neither” he agreed, his eyes never leaving your face. You smiled at him and intertwined your fingers and he lowered his face so now your noses were touching. “Come a little closer” you encouraged him and he just smiled, pressing his lips to yours. It wasn’t a passionate kiss, you were both smiling and your lips barely even touched but it was better than anything. You felt his hand on your cheek and smiled even wider. “You wouldn’t believe how long I’ve been wanting to taste that smile” he mumbled and kissed you again, but like, for real this time. You felt a crazy bunch of butterflies form in your belly as you kissed him back, still holding his hand. “You make me crazy” he admitted right after taking his lips off of yours and sat back in his seat. “I don’t mean to.” “I know you don’t. I don’t get it. How are you so sweet and so full of fire at the same time? I honestly think I’d do anything for you” his confession made your stomach drop, warmth seemed to spread all around your insides. “Would you kiss me again then?” you asked. And he did. Multiple times. Some were sweet and innocent, some left you out of breath. Your lips were sore but you kept on kissing him, never wanting anything as bad as you wanted him at that moment. You sat in his lap, hands in his hair, tasting him again and again. He was a mixture of sweet and bitter, you could feel the alcohol on his tongue. “I think I might have a crush on you Jungkook” you said making him chuckle. He brushed your cheek with his thumb, you felt surrounded by nothing more than his presence and you loved it, every cell of your body wanted him, you wanted him so bad. “You’re the best” he simply said, leaving a soft peck on your lips. “I am?” you raised your eyebrow and he laughed again. “More than you know” he added, making you smile. 

“Let’s get an uber and go back to mine” he suggested, watching you devour your french fries. You were sat alone in a McDonald’s after you decided you were gonna die if you didn’t have something to eat. “Can’t we walk? I wanna walk and hold hands” you smiled and he just couldn’t help but laugh. “Of course we can.” And you did, you roamed the streets, your hand in his, singing and talking and laughing. You were positive it was the best night of your life and he felt the same. You were walking across the river as you saw the sun rising barely above the horizon. You stood there, watching the sunrise, watching his face and tasting his lips in the morning light. 

I’ve come to the realization I can only write one fic, just slightly different each time, but I’ve made peace with that fact. Anyways, here’s more mindless Ladynoir innuendo. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

“So on a scale of one to ten, how much of a virgin are you?”

Black boots skidded to a stop, steel tips grinding against the shingle beneath them with a sort of crunching noise that almost drowned out Ladybug’s question entirely. Adrien (who in this moment was not, in fact, Adrien at all but none other than Chat Noir) swiveled at the edge of the roof, peering back at his partner as she waited for his response.

More surprised by her sudden inquiry than anything, he shrugged. “One being…?”

“One being a toddler who has absolutely no grasp of human sexuality and ten being the author of the Kama Sutra,” Ladybug clarified, winding her yo-yo back around her hip and effectively signaling their patrol had come to an end. “So where do you fall?”

Adrien grinned. “Twelve.”

Keep reading

ruin the friendship / tom holland x reader (part II)

Originally posted by tbholland

do all the things on our minds
what’s taking us all this time?
let’s ruin the friendship.

part II / ? 

song that goes with this part: dusk till dawn by zayn and sia


until there was a knock on the door that pulled him away, snapping him back into reality, thinking that kissing his best friend wasn’t a good idea.

the door opened to reveal a female wearing all black and a headset.

“oh, gosh, did i interrupt something?” she asked, he scratched the back of his neck as she turned a crimson color. 

kind of, he thought, but he didn’t dare say out loud.

“no, no.” the words tumbled out of his mouth,”what’s up?”

“they need you for set.” said the female before showing a shy smile. he nodded before moving away from his best friend.

“i’ll-uh, see you after?” he asked and she nodded, giving him a small smile. returned it before he walked out the door, closing it softly behind him. she landed on the cream colored sofa with a groan. 

she couldn’t believe that something she’s wanted for ages, almost came true, but then was crushed to pieces by that stupid girl in the headset. she pulled her phone out, checking all her social medias. 

soon, he had returned, a smile on his face as he walked through the door. he felt his heart swoon as he realized she was asleep on the couch. he pulled his phone out of his back pocket, realizing it said 8:34 pm, and since she was probably jet lagged and she had a long day of traveling that it’d be best if he let her sleep.

he sat down on the couch, being careful not to disturb her as he sat down. she moved softly, cuddling into his chest as she sleepily adjusted herself. he sat still, not daring to wake her up as she was getting comfortable. he let her fall back asleep into his chest, a smile on his face as she hugged at his torso, her head nuzzled into his shirt. 

he smiled down at her, taking in her facial features as she slept soundly. she practically had him wrapped around her finger. he would do anything for her, yet he didn’t know that she’d do the same for him.

as he played with her hair softly, the door opened to reveal a loud talking Jacob and Harrison. he immediately hushed them as they looked at him in confusion. Harrison’s face lit up.

“is that y/n?!” he asked, making Jacob’s mouth agape and his eyebrows raise.

“wait, is that the girl you’ve been talking about for ages?!” he asked slowly. he rolled his eyes at his two best friends, wanting to take back those night’s he’d talk about y/n and her boyfriend and how he’d been so mad that it wasn’t him who was treating her like a princess.

but little did he know, that ended months ago. y/n and her boyfriend had broken up, well, technically, she caught him cheating and dumped him. she wanted to tell Tom, she really did, but she wasn’t sure if it was such a good idea because of how mad he would’ve gotten. 

“yes, now shut up. she’s sleeping.”

they rolled their eyes,”you’re so whipped, dude.”

“how can i be whipped if she’s got a boyfriend?” he asked the blonde haired boy who had spoken up before him.

“Tom, what are you talking about?” Harrison had asked, utterly confused. the blonde then put the pieces together, his mouth forming into an ‘o’ shape.

“did she not tell you?” he asked, Jacob sat back, enjoying the juicy drama unfolding in front of him. 

“uhh, no.” Tom asked confused as well. 

“he cheated on her and she caught him and she dumped him.” he said,”it was a rough time. i thought she had talked to you about it, but i guess i was the only one.”

Tom looked down at the angel sleeping upon him. how could someone so cruel hurt such an amazing human being like her? she was so genuine, so kind, funny, smart, elegant. his heart broke for her.

“wait, so Tom, you can date her!” Jacob perked up, Harrison nodded in agreement. the two of them had wanted the both of them to get together since he first mentioned he liked y/n. 

“no, no, no.” Tom said,”i’m not ruining a friendship.”

“Tom, mate, she literally likes you! you can’t see it?” asked Harrison. Tom raised an eyebrow at his friend.

“she doesn’t, i highly doubt she’d like me.”

“Tom, you’re being so stubborn.” Harrison rolled his eyes,”she literally told me a month ago that she liked you, mate. and she’s finally single. there should be nothing holding you back!”

right then, he felt his heart stop. the world around him stopped spinning. the girl he wanted wanted him back. he felt a blush creep onto his cheeks as he looked down at her in his arms. he could already picture himself laying like that with her forever.

“you’re not playing with me, right?” he asked his best friend. 

“no, dude, why would i lie about that?” he asked. Tom smiled.

“i’m finally getting something i’ve always wanted.” he said. his two friends smiled at the scene in front of them, finally happy for their friends. 

the two finally walked into the house after a long day. she looked tired as she had just woken up from her nap about 2 hours ago, but inside she was bubbling with energy.

“so, anything new and exciting happen?” he asked, starting up a conversation.

she wanted to tell him what happened, but she didn’t know how, so for now, it was her’s and Harrison’s little secret.

or so she thought.

“pretty good,” she lied, in reality, it was hell on earth without him back in London,”how about things here? all well?”

he nodded,”you still with your boyfriend?”

her heart went to her throat. she didn’t want to lie to him about her ex forever, but if she told him what happened, it might be worse.

“uh-” she started,”uhm, a-actually, we broke up a while ago.” 

Tom gave a look of sympathy,”oh, damn. i’m sorry.”

no he’s not. he’s glad that she dumped that no good asshole.

“eh, he’s an asshole. i guess i just finally came to my senses about him.”

he nodded as she put him in the spotlight,”how about you, Holland? got a lucky girl to call your own?”

he laughed,”uhm, no actually, no girlfriend.”

se pulled her eyebrows together,”how come?”

he shrugged,”just haven’t found anyone worth the while. plus, i’ve kind of got my sights set on someone else already.”

she raised her eyebrows as she felt her heart shatter, the man she loves just said he liked someone and she knew it would never be her.

“but, my real question is, why didn’t you tell me?” he asked, she looked at him confused.

“what are you talking about?”

“why did you never tell me you liked me?”

her eyes widened as shock ran through her body. she immediately tensed up.

“who-who said that?”


i’m so killing him, she thought.

“no, no, okay, i don’t like you.” she stumbled on her words as a smirk tugged at his lips,”and if i did, i dont want to ruin my friendship with you.”

he made his way to where she was standing at the island. his body pressed against hers as a gasp escaped her lips.

“trust me, darling.” he said, his face so close to hers that she could feel his minty breath. his lips hovered over hers, only driving her crazy.

“what do you say, love? let’s risk it and ruin the friendship?” 

his lips grazed over hers before she couldn’t take it anymore. she reached up and grabbed his neck, her mouth meeting his as he wrapped his arms around her waist, kissing her back with just as much love and passion.

and that’s where it all started.

introduction    part I    

tags: @lostamongstthecosmos @feeling-straange

BTS Reaction - Pulling away


Jin’s practically shaking with laughter as he tells you his anecdote, wiping tears from the corners of his eyes, but really, you’re only half-listening.

“And then Kookie, he said-”  Jin cuts himself short when he looks at you from across the table, his eyebrows starting to pull downward into a frown as he realises how little you’re actually paying attention.  Usually you’d be laughing along with him - you’ve got the same lame sense of humour he does, and he loves you for it - but tonight you’re just staring at your plate, poking at your food, and it’s starting to unsettle him.  “Jagi, is everything ok?”  

“Hm?” you ask distractedly, only glancing up at him for a moment before your eyes drop once more.  

“Don’t you like it?”  

“It’s fine, Jin, I’m just… I’ve just gone off fish a little lately,” you tell him.  It’s a lame excuse, but you’d rather tell him that than tell him the truth - tell him that the reason you can’t eat is because you feel so nauseous with anxiety that you might throw up if you eat anymore.  

“Ah, it’s a good job I made your favourite dessert then!” he says enthusiastically, getting up from the table and whisking your still-full plate out from in front of you to take it to the kitchen.  “Can’t have you going hungry.”  

God, why does he have to be so sweet all the time?  So god damn perfect?  It’ll only make it feel so much worse when it eventually falls apart - and you know it will, because when you’re involved everything always does.  It’s inevitable.  

“You know what, I think I might just go home,” you say quickly, before he’s even managed to pull on his gloves to take out the apple pie you can smell cooking in the oven.  He falters, coming to a standstill between the kitchen counters, and when you finally bring yourself to look at him it makes your heart thud painfully.  “I don’t feel too good.”  

“Ok, let me drive you-”

“It’s fine, I’ll get a cab.”  If you say ‘it’s fine’ one more time this evening you think you might punch yourself in the face.  It’s not fine, nothing is, but you know it’s best you pull away a little now, before you both get in too deep. At least it might help to soften the blow.  

“Ok….” you hear him mumble as he turns off the oven and you pull on your coat.  He walks you to the door, and now it’s him that can’t look at you.  “Hope you feel better soon.”  


“See you soon?”

“See you soon,” you reply, and it feels like a goodbye.   

Originally posted by lavender-kills


“So I was thinking; there’s a new Mexican place that’s opened,” Yoongi tells you, his voice sounding even lower than usual over the phone after he’s clearly just woken up.  “You wanna go check it out sometime?”

“Hm… I dunno,” you mumble, rolling over in bed, your cell smushed between your ear and the pillow.  

“C’mon, their churros are supposed to be the shit.”  Despite yourself, you end up smiling at Yoongi’s words.  You wish you hadn’t though.  That momentary flicker of happiness now just makes you feel all the more miserable as you stare at the picture of Yoongi and you you’ve got pinned to your bedside cabinet.  

“I don’t really like Mexican food…”  You’re trying so hard to find an excuse not to make plans, to avoid seeing him for a little while.  It’s not that you don’t care about Yoongi.  Jesus, you most definitely do - but therein lies the problem.  It’s starting to feel scary now, how close you’re becoming.  You’re seeing each other too often, he’s texting you every day, and it feels wrong now if you go to sleep without hearing him say goodnight.  This growing dependency on him, this vulnerability; it’s terrifying.  

“Since when?” he scoffs, and all you can do in reply is sigh.  There’s a silence on the other end of the line, and in the end you have to roll away from that picture of the two of you that you love so much.  His eyes are too penetrating, too perceptive, even in a frozen image.  “What about chinese then?  You love chinese.”   He’s right, you do, and there’s no way you can deny that - not when the last time you went you ended up stuffing your face so much that he had to nurse you with a bad belly for the rest of the night.  

“Can I maybe just take a raincheck?  I’ve got so much work to do, Yoongi, and I’m sure you’re busy too.”  

There’s silence again but this time it feels uncomfortable, and it’s making you fidget even without being able to see the frosty expression you know he’ll be wearing right now.  

“You think I don’t know what you’re doing, Noona?  I’ve done it enough times myself to know when someone’s holding back.”  You swallow hard, staring at the wall and starting to chew your thumbnail nervously.  What are you supposed to say when he’s called you out like that; made you feel like the idiot you know you are?

He gives you an adequate amount of time to reply, to turn back from this road you’re travelling down, but when no response comes you hear him sigh, even his voice turning cold when his next words travel into your ears.  

“Either call me when you’re ready to get real, or don’t bother calling me at all.”  

Originally posted by minshoot


“Ah, babygirl, that was amazing.”  Hobi’s still panting from exertion as he lies next to you, staring at the ceiling with the goofiest of grins on his faces.  He’s always like this after you’ve had sex, always deliriously happy, like every time you do it is his first time, and you know what’s coming next.  

He rolls onto his side, grabbing the sheet and pulling it up to cover your naked, sticky bodies and then snuggling closer, slinging his arm over his hip and pulling you close, sweat be damned.  He always gets so affectionate too, so tactile when he’s dosed up on oxytocin, and though at first you loved it, lately it’s become nothing but a source of anxiety to you.  It’d be fine if cuddling was all it was, but it’s not just that.  No, Hobi insists on lying there staring at you like you’re his everything, his entire world, his eyes taking in every little of your face until you end up laughing and batting him away, telling him to stop being such a freak.  

You don’t want him to look at you like that and nor do you want to be placed on his pedestal; not when you know it’ll make your inevitable fall from grace so much higher and more painful.   You don’t deserve all these loving looks and touches, not when you’re going to break his heart.  Though you don’t yet know how it’ll happen yet you know it will, because it’s just what you do.  

“I wish we could do this all day, every day,” he says wistfully, reaching up to thumb your cheek, staring back into your eyes.  You try to diffuse things with humour, rolling your eyes and pushing his hand away from your face, trying to ignore the way hurt flickers across his face.  

“That’s ‘cus you’re a horny bastard, Hobi.”  You sit up to put some distance between you, running your fingers through your hair to try and put it right.  Of course, he then sits up too, smoothing out the part of your hair at the back you can’t see to fix with his gentle hands.   

“Not just for that,” he persists, smiling cheekily, “I just like having you here, sex or no sex.  C’mon, wouldn’t you love to wake up to this face every morning?”   

“I guess,” you answer non-committedly, trying not to let your mind even hope to dream of your life ever being so wonderful.  You need to get out of here, before he starts dangling more perfect happy-ever-afters in front of your face, lies that you know will never come true.  Finding your underwear you start to get dressed, avoiding the questioning look in Hobi’s eyes.

“I thought you didn’t have to work today?”

“Yeah…” You pull your sweater on, glad that it hides your face, even for just a second.  “But I’ve got a lot I need to get done so…”  

“I’d kind of… I mean I’d planned on us having the whole day together…” he says quietly, unable to hide the disappointment and confusion on his face.  “If I’d known you were gonna go so soon I wouldn’t have-”

“Don’t worry, Hobi, it was fun.” You slip your feet into your shoes, practically running to his bedroom door as soon as they’re on, forcing a false smile on your face.  “I had fun.”  Fun, that’s all it is… it’s all it was ever supposed to be.  You weren’t supposed to end up liking him, needing him, lovin- “Let me know next time you wanna hook up.”  

“Hook up,” he repeats, his voice breaking.  Hobi looks like you’ve just plunged a knife straight into his heart, and though it breaks your own to see him in so much pain, you know it’s for the best.  Better now, rather than later.  “Right… sure.”  

Originally posted by jhopetal


“So… what do you think?”  

What do you think?  You think the song you just heard was amazing; one of the best Namjoon’s ever written, and that’s saying a lot when he’s so ridiculously talented to begin with.  You’re stunned, dumbstruck by the fact he’d write such beautiful lyrics about you, for you, and if you were a better person you’d probably start to cry with joy that your boyfriend wants to tell the world just how much you mean to him.  

But you’re not a good person, not like him, not even close, so instead of telling Namjoon how proud you are of him, how much you’ve come to love him, you say anything you can think of to drive a wedge between you.

“I don’t think you should put it on the album,” you say blankly, trying to keep your face impassive as you look back into his hopeful eyes.  “I don’t think the executives would be happy with it.”  His face falls, eyebrows knitting together as he tries to fathom you’re unexpected response.  You see his jaw clench, and you know he’s trying so hard to brace himself for whatever constructive criticism he thinks is coming.  It’s taken a long time for him to learn to do that so graciously; yet another skill he’s mastered.

“You don’t like it?  I know the bridge needs some work, but I can fix-”

“The song’s fine, Joonie,” you interrupt, making him pause mid-swivel in his chair to turn back to you rather than his desk.  “I just don’t think it’s a good idea.  ARMY won’t like you shoving your love-life in their faces - they want you guys permanently single so they can keep all their little fantasies about you.” Namjoon seems stunned into silence for a moment, and honestly, you’re a little impressed at just how reasonable your argument sounds too.  Cold, yes, but logical.  Surely with his big brain Namjoon should be happy enough accept your reasoning and let it lie?  

He’s quiet for a long while, face pensive until he finally get up out of his chair and comes to sit beside you, taking your hand.

“I don’t care.  We’ve always been able to write write the music we want… how we want it.  And the fans want us to be happy.”  Well… how do you argue with that?  He sits stroking the back of your hand with his thumb while he waits for you to say something, and now your mind has gone blank, unable to think of anything to say that won’t just sound harsh or cruel.  

“You might be happy to tell the world about us, Joonie but… I’m not.”  Harsh it is then.  You take your hand back, clamping both of them between your legs as you look to the floor, avoiding the hurt in his eyes.  “We never said this was going to be anything serious.”

“I see.”  His voice is tight, controlled as he speaks, suddenly sitting up straighter. He waits for a second, perhaps to see if you’ll sat any more, take it all back, but when you don’t he simply returns to his desk, facing the screen like you’re not even there.  “You may as well go home… I’m gonna be up all night trying to re-write this.”  

Originally posted by chimchams


Your phone goes off for what feels like the hundredth time today, an unpleasantly harsh trill that shrieks through your otherwise quiet apartment, and once again you have to fight the urge to look, to read the text you know is waiting for you there.  If you look you’re more likely to reply, and you’re trying so, so hard to give yourself some space, to put some distance between you and the man you’re getting far too close to.  

You know what it’ll say anyway, more or less.  It’ll be Jimin being his usual sweet self, asking if you’re ok, asking you to please, please get back to him.  Why aren’t you replying?  Are you sure you’re ok?  Do you need him to come over?  Why are you so quiet?  It’s killing you. Every time your phone goes off it feels like a punch to the gut, because you do so desperately want to reply.  But you can’t, you mustn’t.  You’ve gotten too attached to him, too attached to this perfect boy whom all the girls want to touch.

You’re not stupid.  You’ve seen his fan-pages, you’ve seen the things they say about him.  And it’s not like you can blame them, but you’re too insecure to deal with having a boyfriend who’s wanted by so many.  You’ve been cheated on once before, and it’ll only be a matter of time before Jimin realises he’s too good for you and does the same; finds another girl who’s prettier and thinner and more interesting than you.  It’s better for you to protect yourself now, to pull away while you still can, before it’s too late.  

So you ignore his messages even as tears roll down your cheeks, lying on the sofa and holding yourself, just waiting for it to stop hurting so much.  Time passes, although you don’t keep track of how much; all you know is that eventually it goes dark outside, and your tired eyes are just starting to droop when all of a sudden your doorbell rings, jolting you awake again.  

You shuffle your way over to the door, half-asleep and wrapped in your blanket, pulling it open before you think to look through the spy-hole to check who it is.  Of course it would be Jimin standing there to see you looking like this, like the mess that you are, his eyes widening as he takes in your bloodshot eyes.

“Oh baby… baby, what’s wrong?” He steps inside before you can stop him, wrapping you up in his arms over the top of your blanket, pulling your head into the crook of his neck.  

You don’t want this, or at least for second you try to tell yourself that you don’t… but it’s just no use.  Relenting, you let yourself be held by him, inhaling the scent of his aftershave that’s become synonymous with happiness and giving yourself over to it all, at least for now.  You let him kiss you with your face in his hands, let him promise you that he’ll make it all ok, and you let yourself believe in this lie, just for a little while longer.  

“You know I love you… Whatever it is, baby, we’ll fix it… I love you,” he tells you over and over, his face pressed into your hair and all you can do is cry because you know you love him too, and you know it’ll never be enough.  

Originally posted by sosjimin


“Tae, Tae, stop it!” you giggle, trying your best to throw him off whilst ensuring you’re clenching your pelvic floor as hard as you possibly can; he’s be tickling you for what feels like forever now, and you’ll be damned if you give him the satisfaction of peeing yourself for him to tease you about that too.  

“Not until you call me Oppa!” he shouts back, sat on your stomach, his bony fingers digging into your ribs as he grins down at you.  He’s such a masochist - you know he’s getting off on this really, watching you squirm and struggle.

“You’re like one month older than me, weirdo!”

“Op-pa!” he persists, accentuating every syllable, his eyes narrowing when you shake your head.  His fingertips start to creep towards your armpits, your weakest spot, and no matter how hard you try to push his hands away he’s just too strong.  You barely make it ten seconds before you’re shouting ‘oppa’ over and over again, tears streaming from your eyes, just wanting it to end.  Finally, he relents, sitting up with a satisfied smirk on his face.

That’s when you chose your moment to strike.  You reach out to twist his nipples through his shirt, grinning wickedly, but before you can do anything Taehyung’s grabbed both your wrists and pinning them above your head, growling like an animal.  A beat passes where you just look at each other, both out of breath, and then you’re laughing again, in hysterics as you so often are when you’re together, only stopping when Taehyung eagerly crashes his lips against yours.

You expect the kiss to become more passionate, if anything, so you’re surprised when it gets softer, Tae letting go of your wrists to stroke his hands gently through your hair and down onto your face.  When he pulls away, still rubbing his thumbs along your cheeks, there’s something shining in his eyes that you’ve never seen from him before, some emotion that until now has been unknown.  You know exactly what it is though, you know because it’s exactly the same thing you can feel swelling in your own chest.  

He opens his mouth to speak, and that’s when you panic.  You’re not ready to hear those words again, and you’re certainly not ready to say them again.  Not after last time, not after what happened when-

You sit up abruptly, pushing him off you and hurrying to stand, grabbing your jacket from the sofa to leave before Taehyung snatches it back from your hand after having stood up almost as quickly as you.  He look so confused, his mouth hanging open, head tilted to the side as he tries to make sense of your sudden and unexpected change in behaviour.


“Just don’t say it, Tae,” you snap, snatching your jacket back but just holding it there by your side, fist clenched, “I don’t want to hear it, ok?  Don’t say it, because you can’t take it back.”  

“Jagiya…” he whispers softly, his eyes starting to mist over with moisture, chin practically trembling as you flinch away from the touch of his hand.  

“Just… just leave it, please?”  You sound like you’re begging, on the verge of tears now too, and before he can try to reach out to you again you run from his apartment, leaving Taehyung to dissolve into tears, wondering how on earth it all suddenly went so wrong.  

Originally posted by jjks


He’s been getting possessive lately - it’s all too obvious for anyone who looks to see.  Every time you hang out with the rest of the group he keeps getting all… handsy.  Not in an inappropriate way or anything, but any time you’re talking to another guy he’ll just casually wrap his arm around your waist or lay it across your shoulder, like he’s subtly marking his territory.

You’re sure other girls wouldn’t mind.  They’d probably love to have someone like Jungkook lay his claim on them, thrilled to be considered such a prize worth protecting, but when he does it to you all you can think about is your ex-boyfriend and how he used to be exactly the same. Jealous, possessive, irrational, constantly accusing you of cheating even though he was the one that was fucking your best friend behind your back.  Ex-best friend, should you say.  

There’s a lot of ex’s in your past, for one reason or another, and that’s why after a few dates you’re still resisting Jungkook’s attempts to make the two of you into something more.  You can do without another ex to add to your list, thank you very much, no matter how much you can feel him getting under your skin with each and every day that passes.  That’s just another reason why you want to keep him at arm’s length - you can’t afford to let yourself be vulnerable.  Not again.  You’re not letting anyone hurt you like that ever again.  

Jungkook seems to be feeling particularly threatened today, though you’re not entirely sure why.  Perhaps it’s because of the skirt you’re wearing, or maybe it’s the way Yoongi keeps looking at you from across the room, but either way it’s starting to get your back up.  He doesn’t own you, and it’s the desire to show Jungkook exactly that that eventually drives you across to the other side of the studio to sit down next to Yoongi, smiling like a cheshire cat.  

You can feel his eyes on you the moment you strike up a conversation, eyes that you pointedly ignore, choosing instead to act like everything Yoongi says is the funniest thing you’ve ever heard.  You lean your body into his, leaning your head on his shoulder as you laugh, placing your hand on his thigh and leaving it to linger there far longer than necessary.  Yoongi’s loving every second of it, lapping it up until Jungkook finally snaps and comes striding over, trying to look casual and failing miserably at doing so.

“Namjoon wants you,” he tells Yoongi, not even looking at his elder as he says it.  No, his eyes are fixed on you, full of both anger and hurt, and the moment Yoongi gets up with a groan Jungkook is taking his spot, flopping down at your side.  You see him tick his head to the side, clenching his jaw in the silence that follows, and find yourself smiling before you can help it at his adorable habit.  

God damn it, you really need to put a stop to this now, before you get even more attached than you already are.  

“Why were you acting like that?” he asks after a moment, once he’s sure the rest of his friends are sufficiently preoccupied.

“Acting like what?” you reply, sounding as innocent as possible, and you know it’s pissing him off because his jaw clenches again, his hands balling into fists and relaxing again where they hang over his knees.

“Flirting with Yoongi like that.  You were all over him.”  

“So?” you blurt out, only realising after you’ve already said it just how cold and callous you sound.  Jungkook actually looks taken aback when you turn your head to the side to look at him, his usually soft, doe eyes widened in confusion, no anger left to see.  

“So…?” he repeats quietly.  You stare him out, trying not to flinch at the sharp feeling of guilt that stabs through you when he falters first, turning his head with a shake and looking to the ground, swallowing against the lump you can guess that’s forming in his throat.  “I thought…”

“We’ve been on like… what… four dates, Jungkook?”  You sound condescending and cruel, and you hate yourself for it.  What a heartless bitch those exs have turned you into, huh?  “You can’t tell me you thought it was serious?”  

Originally posted by jayfatuasian

Paris: Wish Granted (Bill Skarsgård)

Part 2 of 3

Just like everything else that day, Clair de Lune exceeded all expectations. It was by far the nicest restaurant she had ever been to. The lighting was dim enough to appreciate the single flaming candle in the middle of the table. The deep woods that decorated the interior made the whole atmosphere feel sensual and provocative. Then there was the food; nothing like she had ever tasted before.

“This is so good.” She praised, having taken a bite of her Streak Tartare.

He smiled at her from across the table, noticing how breathtaking in her dress and that she seemed to be in high spirits. Nothing made him feel better about himself than knowing he had pleased her. Considering it was her birthday, he was going to make sure he did that and more.

He took a sip of the red wine he had ordered and began on his Salmon en Papillote with Tomato Curry and Beans.

She ate her meal slowly. First, she was focussed on savouring the delicious favours of all the different ingredients. Then, because he became extremely distracting to look at. He wore a black fitted dress shirt, her favourite, and trousers while his brown locks were parted to the left. They say that similar to red, black is one of the most attractive colours someone can wear. That night she realized how accurate that statement truly was.

He watched as she pushed around the remains of the Steak Tartare with her fork. He raised a brow at her.

“Are you feeling alright?” He pressed lightly.

She met his eyes and nodded, attempting to look as nonchalant as possible. She didn’t want him to think she wasn’t enjoying the restaurant, but she did not want him to know that she couldn’t stop thinking about the feeling of him settled in between her legs.

The look he gave her was still questioning. He knew her well enough to see right through her. But what he did not yet know was that by holding eye contact with him, it took a lot from her to not bite her lip. He was so good-looking that night.

Reluctantly, he dropped his gaze and went back to his food.

She tugged at the sleeve of her navy blue, boat neck dress that hugged her body tightly, only flowing out a little at the bottom of the long skirt, nervously. Imagining how tauntingly slow he would remove her dress, stocking and lingerie moved her into a dreamlike state. Maybe it would be even nicer if he ripped them off my body.

When he caught her gaze, she crossed her legs subconsciously, clutching them tightly together underneath the wooden table. Seeing her shift in her seat gave him more than enough of idea of what she was doing. It evoked a smirk from him, going unseen by her as she speared another bite of Tartare onto her fork.

After forcing herself to swallow the mixture of steak, vegetables and Worcestershire sauce, she finally casted a look up at him. He was still smirking.

“You’re very worked up. Aren’t you, Darling?” His voice sounded completely normal, as if they were having a simple conversation over the weather rather than each other’s desires.  

She swallowed hard when she saw his dark, passionate expression that contrasted the tone of his voice dramatically. She could not reply, so a bit lip was all he got in response.

“What are you wearing underneath that dress?” He asked lowly.

She clasped her hands together and watched him lean against the back of the leather chair he sat in, peering at her expectantly. If they had not been in this restaurant, he would have lit a cigarette and allowed the smoke to float behind him as he watched her fiddle with her fingers under his intense stare. Yet even without the cigarette, his gaze still held the same sharpness that only made her closer her legs tighter.

“The black set.” She spoke, voice so quiet that only he could hear her.

He nodded in approval, “Good. You look gorgeous in it.”

A soft blush spread over her cheeks. Even after all of the years they had spent together, he never failed to make her feel like the most special person in the world. They way he spoke left nothing to doubt; he meant every word he said.

“Mademoiselle, would you care for more champagne?” A waiter enquired.

She let out a startled gasp and placed a hand over her chest, not having heard him come up behind her.

“My apologies, Mademoiselle.” He said quickly, eyes going wide.

She composed herself automatically, “Nonsense, I’m terribly sorry. Yes, I will have some more.”

He nodded kindly and tipped the pine green bottle to its side, slowly filling her glass back up.

If anyone knew how to get her heart beating even faster in that moment, it was Bill. She felt as if she would pass out when he began to speak to her in Swedish:

“Do you know what I’m going to do to you tonight, Darling?”

Her eyes instantly opened wider and snapped up to the waiter who was pouring the champagne into her glass. He looked perfectly unaffected by what Bill had just wondered of her so casually.

“I am going to go down on you until you beg me to fuck you. You are going to write underneath me and scream my name as you come.” He finished, expressionless.

Thankfully, the waiter tipped the bottle upright and she hurriedly gave him her thanks. When he started off to another table, she turned to Bill with wide eyes.

“Do you want me to do those things to you?” He asked her, still speaking his mother tongue.

“Yes.” She whispered breathlessly.

Her chest was rising and falling at a much more rapid pace than usual, giving him a pleasant view of the top her breasts as they pushed against the fabric she wore. The whole situation was terribly erotic.

He looked at her pointedly.

“Yes.” She tried, stronger this time.

He leaned forward, placed his folded hands on the table and gave her a penetrating stare. She could feel his look deep down in her core. It was a feeling she wanted to welcome, only not in a restaurant where she could hardly relieve it.

“Beg for it.” He demanded.

She reached out and took his large hand in her smaller one, grasping it tightly. The look he gave her was expectant, yet he allowed her to hold his hand, knowing it comforted her.

Swedish was not her native tongue, but she believed she knew enough to give him what he wanted. She took a breath and spoke:

“Yes. I want you to fuck me so hard that I’ll feel you for days. I fucking need you now, Bill.”

That was enough to satisfy him.

He stood, pulled out his leather wallet, fished out a hundred dollar bill, and placed it on the table. The waiter gave him a nod from the other side of the restaurant.

He outstretched a hand to her, which she gladly took, and pulled her out of her seat.

She wanted nothing more than to have him inside of her. All of the endless teasing all day had her frustrated, and wanting him more than ever before. Soon, her wish would be granted.

They strode out of Clair de Lune.

All of the lights in the penthouse suite were off except for the chandelier in the bedroom. It emitted a soft, orange glow which dimly lit the room, along with the cars and streetlights in the bustling city many stories below them.

“Turn around and step out.” He commanded.

She complied, turning her body back to face his and stepped forward, out of the dress that pooled at her heel clothed feet.

He ran his smooth fingers down her cheek, causing her heart to beat erratically. She could become undone just by his touch.

“Can I take you while you wear this?” He requested, fingers trailing down to the thin strap of her bustier.

Although he was touching her, it was not where she truly wanted it. The brushes of the pad of his thumb against her already hot skin only heightened her desire to feel him somewhere else.

“Mhm.” Was all she managed to get out. She was far too distracted by the feeling of his cool fingers against her warm skin.

He tsked her, “Use your words, Darling.”

Oh, did it ever turn her on when he scolded her. They never assigned any sort of roles in their relationship, but as she truly got comfortable with him, he realized that she loved when he was in control. He found that he liked that too.

She peered up at him through her lashes.

“Yes. As long as you don’t rip it.” She cautioned.

His hands slipped down her body until they reached her waist.

“I could always buy you another.” He said simply, lips hovering over her neck.

Her eyes fluttered shut at the feeling of his lips against her pulse point. The feeling of him kissing, biting and sucking had her succumbing to his touch.

“N-No, you… promised.” She reminded him through breathy moans.

He nipped at her neck then sighed, he had promised her that.

“Fine. You win.”

Her eyes opened at his response, lips widening into a mischievous grin as she pulled away from him.

“I’m sorry, what was that?” She wondered, batting her lashes innocently.

The game was all about who held the power. He had it for most of the day, purchasing hundreds of dollars of french lingerie, dressing in the clothes he knew drove her mad and telling her he wanted to have her in public. But the power could be stolen in a split second, and she held it over him mercilessly.

“Don’t push it.” He warned her.

His threat seemed idle, a feeble attempt to take back the dominance. She laughed and shifted her weight onto her back leg.

“What are you going to do about it?” She taunted, eyes gleaming. Oh, did she ever love this game.

His intense stare seemed to affect her less now. That was until, of course, he spoke five simple words:

“I won’t let you come.”

There. That was it. He had taken back the power.

“You wouldn’t.” She spoke, yet sounded less sure of herself than she had a moment before.

She shifted in her position.

“I think we both know that I would.” He said, matter-of-factly.

She looked into his eyes to see if he was lying. He was not, and his dominance returned; something that she welcomed gladly.

It was going to be a fantastic evening.

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anonymous asked:

*coughs up blood* p-parkour continuation, death by arahir's writing is how I wanna go... ur too good I love you omg.

yo here have some passably cute and anguished parkour

sheith parkour au part 3: matt falls into a romantic comedy by accident

[part 1] [part 2]

Dear Katie,

I’m disowning you.

Matt doesn’t talk to Shiro for a full twenty four hours. Not because he’s mad, but because he can’t look at Shiro without his bright eyes and his red face and Keith’s soft little Sir playing on loop in his mind.

It’s the like an intrusive thought, but instead of something innocuous like wanting to drop his phone off the side of the Garrison, he wants to jam his head against the wall until the memory is gone or he sustains permanent brain damage.

He’s about thirty seconds from giving in when the door to their room slams open—actually slams—and Shiro flings himself inside.

“Someone sent him flowers,” he moans in absolute agony. Shiro should be at lunch, far away from Matt, which means he actually hunted Matt down in their rooms to cry about this, which—

“Wait, what? Flowers?” Matt asks, because it rings a bell in the worst way.

“I knew this would happen,” Shiro mutters, not listening. “He’s got that hair and the legs and the accent…”

Keith has at least two of those things, but so do most people, and there’s no way two people at the Garrison have been bewitched by that hair. It’s not statistically possible. “How did they send him flowers all the way out here? How did you even find out?”

Shiro flops down on his bed and pulls his pillow over his face in a fair imitation of a distraught teen girl. “Iverson,” he says into the cloth, followed by something long and moaning that Matt can’t make out, which is probably for the best.

Keep reading

On the normalisation of child abuse under the guise of “discipline/punishment”

(tw for child abuse mentions)

I’m taking a psychology course and there are class forums with prompts to respond to and discuss. Our most recent prompt was on the topic of punishing children and whether or not we thought it was right. And let me tell, you. It was downright alarming what so many of my peers said.

“I grew up being hit by my parents. I’ll be doing the same to my kids.”

“Physical punishment for kids is a must. They don’t learn any other way.”

“I’ve never personally seen or heard real stories of children suffering long-term affects of being punished. Therefore, I’m very skeptical of all these ‘studies’ proving it.”

Those are just a few of the responses from the forum– there were over 50, a good 90% of those being similar to the above 3.

Now, I’m not at all claiming that any and all punishment for children who’ve done something wrong is a no-go. But, it’s incredibly important– absolutely vital– to mention that nowhere in the prompt did it specify that the punishment we were discussing was physical. Every single one of my peers that responded, immediately saw the word “punishment” and equated it with inflicting pain. Most of them mentioned something along the lines of “well I never experienced trauma from it so it must not be real” or “well i turned out fine harhar”.

By this point, you can probably guess that my stance on the matter is that you should never, ever hit a child. There are several reasons for this, many stemming from my own experience. My father used to force hot sauce down my throat until I vomitted and hit me so hard when I was a toddler that I now have vision issues.

To my mom, he always said “You think I won’t be disciplining MY child like my father did with me? You have another thing comming. Look at me, I turned out fine!”


My dad was violent, verbally abusive, and physically abusive. He started drinking when he was 12 and started smoking a pack of cigs a day when he was 13. He cheated on my mom so much that I probably have siblings I don’t know about.

That was “Turning out fine”.

My mom eventually kicked him out it got so bad, thank god. I can’t imagine the damage that would’ve been done if he had been around longer. Every single time someone raises their voice, walks with the slightest aggression, stomps, slams anything, or lifts their hand above their head, regardless of context, I flinch. I have bouts of panic and accelerated anxiety. It’s been well over 10 years since he passed away, even more since he was kicked out, and I still have these issues. I likely will for my entire life. And there are children who have it worse than I did. It could’ve been worse for me had he stuck around. All in the name of “discipline”.

Punishment should be equal to the offense. Hitting a child, who likely hasn’t fully developed a sense of what’s right and wrong, allowed and not allowed, is cruel and abusive. You aren’t teaching that child anything but fear for authority (Fear and respect are not synonyms) and to inflict pain when someone does something they don’t like.

Punishment and discipline should not be violent.

It doesn’t matter if you think you “turned out fine”. If you think hurting a child is acceptable for any reason, you are not “fine”.

Purposefully causing your child physical pain is abuse. Whether you want to believe it or not, “punishment” that is violent is abuse. Don’t mask your anger issues under the guise of “discipline”. If you can’t control your temper enough to explain to a child how & why they are in the wrong, don’t fucking have kids. Because kids mess up– They’re human beings.

You may be their guardian, but they’re their own people. As their guardian, it’s your responsibility to help them grow into healthy adults. Having symptoms of PTSD from childhood “punishments” is not healthy.

Violent punishment is far too normalised. When we try to have discussions of certain forms of “punishment” being abusive, it’s truly baffling how many people dismiss these claims or mock them. These same people more often than not follow a multi-generational pattern: well this is how my parents did it, so I’ll do it too, because this must be the only way to teach a child!

This pattern needs to be broken. There is a clear and defined line between abusing and desciplining a child, and apparently society needs a comprehensive refresher on this.

anonymous asked:

any good strangers to lovers AU? thank you so much!!

I think I can hook you up anon.

YoonMin Strangers To Lovers 

Craigslist Date by springrain21

Min Yoongi’s family are judgmental and unsupportive of his lifestyle and his mother won’t stop nagging him about how he’s still single. When he finds Park Jimin on Craigslist offering to pose as someone’s fake date to mess with their family, Yoongi can’t help himself. What starts as a prank on Yoongi’s family turns into something more when the two of them quickly develop feelings for each other. Will Yoongi, who doesn’t know how to handle feelings, let his chance at love slip away, or will he go after the silver-haired boy and hold onto him forever?

Inspired by that tumblr post about the guy on Craigslist who you can hire to be your date for Thanksgiving to screw with your family because that post makes me cry laughing every time I see it. (LOVE, Rated:M)

The Letter Thief by d4wndust

Min Yoongi receives a text from an unknown number and it seems to be a suicide note.
Park Jimin says his goodbyes through a text, but to a wrong number.

Min Yoongi makes Park Jimin live a little longer and Park Jimin makes Min Yoongi start living. (Warning: Character Death)

Summer Wine by mintsoda 

“‘No, uhm—,’ Yoongi lifts a hand to the back of his head and ruffles his hair a little. ‘I haven’t been in a relationship for a while, actually, if that’s what you mean.’

Taehyung’s face lights up like a Christmas tree set on fire and Jimin prepares himself for the unpreparable.

‘Our Jimin here is single, too!’ Taehyung beams and he cannot believe he just said that.”

In which Jimin and Yoongi are both the fifth wheel in their group of dating friends during their summer vacation on Okinawa – but not for long.

41 by canberrx

“By the way, I’m Yoongi.”



Yoongi x Jimin
One-Shot (a really long one) (Rated:M)

Honey’s Secret by mintsoda

Me: So, are you going to send me a selca now or not?

Jimin is getting a little impatient now. He needs that picture, and he needs it now.

Me: hyung hyung hyung

Me: pretty please?

Yoongi hyung: Later, Jimin. I’m still at work and I really want to continue earning money by talking about sex toys on the phone with you

Yoongi hyung: And I have a feeling you enjoy those conversations as well.” (LOVE, Rated: M)

Do You Like Your Drafts Rough? by melecs

As a romance novelist, one would think Min Yoongi would have his own romantic life sorted out a little more than he actually did. Because instead of being in a happy, nauseating relationship, Yoongi was juggling both a one-sided crush and some punk who lived downstairs.  (LOVE, LOVE, Rated: M)

perfect blue by pettey

While contemplating the loss of his job in the middle of an urban mini-mart on White Day, Yoongi meets a strange truck driver and decides that going on an impromptu road trip would be good for him. (LOVE, Rated:M)

is this really just a one day sale (because i think i want you every day) by infires (infires_man)

Park Jimin thinks he’s landed a job in a departmental store, but it turns out that he is forced against his will by his boss to stand awkwardly beside an escalator and hand out flyers advertising the store’s one day sale for eight hours on end.

Just when he thinks things won’t be getting any worse, the slacker whose job is simply to lounge at the wine counter keeps coming to make sarcastic remarks at him. (This also qualifies as enemies to lovers)

No more flowers by NeyleiTarento

“You’re dirty,” Yoongi remarks, pointing with his finger at the Tangerine boy’s backside. Maybe the florist was too lazy to clean up the counter properly the day before and now Jimin’s jeans were dirty. Well. He shouldn’t have sat there, it’s his own fault.

“You bet I am,” Jimin says and somehow, Yoongi feels like it has nothing to do with the remains of cut stems on his jeans.

aka Min Yoongi is a florist and Jimin is a fuckboy who comes every week to buy a new bouquet for his new girlfriend. At least that’s what Yoongi thinks.

(Also, the title is a little depressing but this is actually pretty darn cute, at least I think so.)

Look into my heart (The unspoken promise) by Sandeunngo

Yoongi was looking forward to spending a wonderful vacation with his boyfriend, just to be dumped on the first day…

So did Jimin.

I hope you like these.

My Saviour - The First Fight

A/N: Doctor Dean is back!!! This was a drabble request from Kari aka @thing-you-do-with-that-thing, hope you like it. Betaed by the wonderful @thorne93

Characters: Dean x Reader

Warnings: Angst. Fighting. Insecurities. And a tiinsy bit of fluff at the end.

Wordcount: 2100 (I know it’s not a drabble)

Request:  I am a sucker for angst! Can I get a drabble or one shot for My Savior that’s Y/N and Dean’s first fight and Dean gets pissed and yells at her. The boy does have a temper but it is bound to scare the shit out of Y/N and make Dean feel so guilty. Fluffy ending please :D

Originally posted by sooper-dee-dooper-natural

Dean parked the Impala in the parking lot outside of your shared apartment. He was still settling into his new job in San Jose, and even though he loved it there, there was a lot to learn and he had to learn fast.

It was 7am and he had been at work for sixteen hours straight. Four people had been rushed into the emergency room just as he was about to go home, car accident, and they had needed him there. They were all kids in their early twenties, three of them had gotten away with minor injuries, but the driver had died. This wasn’t the first patient of Dean’s that had died, but that didn’t mean that it didn’t get to him. He had to sit down with this boy’s parents and tell them that their son didn’t make it. The mother was in shock, so much so that there wasn’t a single tear, all she had wondered was what she would do next, they only had one child, and now he was gone. Dean had to fight his own tears as he left the two parents.

He tried to collect himself a little before opening the door. As soon as he did, his nose filled with the scent of pancakes and bacon and he could hear you rummaging around in the kitchen. He leaned on the frame of the doorway, watching you cook, a content sigh leaving him.

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all but washed in the tide of her breathing

Ok so blame @the-pontiac-bandit for this entirely. And giant thank you to @elsaclack for reading this after I convinced myself it was garbage.

Jake’s never prayed in a hospital hallway before. He’s seen plenty of people doing it, sometimes on tv, sometimes on an average day in his job. It’s always sickened him a little, stuck with him, caught in his thoughts, the fact that watching someone praying that they don’t lose their whole world is just another day at work for him. It must be worse for the doctors and nurses, he guesses, the people on the very front lines between life and death. The memory that’s sticking in his mind, right now, on the hospital floor, is the man who just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time with his family.

He remembers it sharply, acutely, agonisingly, even though it was years ago now, and memories from the days before that one are faded, time-bleached. The man had paced the floor for two hours, the whole time Jake had been here with his old partner. His eyes had been wild, his lips graced with whispered curse words, prayers, spit-flecked bargains, and blood had been running down his arms from his neck wound. But that hadn’t mattered to the man. Oliver Lawson. His name had been Oliver Lawson. And once those two hours had been up, a doctor and two nurses had approached him with certain looks in their eyes, looks that Jake didn’t have a name for. Looks that Oliver understood instantly, like the half-madness of terror and grief had taught him a new language, taught him to understand what each individual crease on someone’s face meant. Oliver had crumpled to the ground, screaming a sound that Jake never knew humans could make. Through being in the wrong place at the wrong time, Oliver Lawson’s wife and two daughters had been lost to him forever.

Jake wonders, from the cold hospital floor, knees drawn to his chest, where Oliver is now. Whether he still replays that day over and over in his head. Because if this goes the way that Jake has convinced himself it’s going to, he can’t see himself ever leaving this day, not really. His body might carry on (or actually, it might stay here on the pale blue tiles forever), but his brain will live right here. It will analyse every single thing that’s happened since they woke up this morning, wondering what he could have done differently. It will rewind to her excited, apprehensive smile. To her, ‘the baby’s coming. She’s coming.’

A hand find Jake’s shoulder, and he snaps his attention to the faces in front of him. They’re not doctors, or nurses, not angels, not some deity come down to say they’re sorry. It’s Captain Holt and Rosa, crouched in front of him, hands on his shoulder. Rosa’s face is stony, determined, brow furrowed, jaw set. Captain Holt’s is sombre, readable for once. For a split, blood-turns-to-ice second, Jake’s convinced that they’re here to tell him. That they’re here because the nurses couldn’t face him, so they’re making his friends tell him instead. They’re only here because Amy went into labour whilst Jake was at work, only here because he announced to the whole precinct that he was gonna be a dad real soon. Only here because everyone swung by once the night shift took over, because they were excited too.

“Did she-?” Jake can’t finish the sentence, can’t even wrap his tongue around the words properly. They splutter and falter in his mouth, the taste of them making him feel sick.

“We haven’t heard yet, son,” Captain Holt tells him, squeezing his shoulder.

“Come sit down,” Rosa reaches for his hand, nodding in the direction of the waiting area.

“I can’t.” They don’t get it. He’s sitting right outside of the doors of the hallway that leads to the operating theatre. If he sits right here, if he keeps wishing and praying and listening, something’s got to work.

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A quick one-shot I wrote for bigender Darkiplier because I can’t stop thinking about this headcanon now…

~Mod Carbz

Warnings: Slight unintentional misgendering, implied Wilford/Dark, WKM Spoilers

AO3 Link:

Read Below The Cut!

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A/N: Request from @inlovewithnovels. Tony is kind of an arsehole in this one. It just happened, I needed a culprit. & I heard strange noises in my room while writing this. Not cool. Not cool at all.

16th October: Scare pranks. 👻 | feat. Loki

Words: 1679
Warnings: demons, mentions of exorcism, blood, gore and death, panic attack

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[Voltron]: homecoming

Title: homecoming

Read it on [AO3]
Words: 2,608
Pairing: Sheith
The mission is more important than the individual.

But not Shiro. Never Shiro.

Oh man. So I wrote this fic as a way to help process my feelings about S4 because I just can’t get over the fact that every time Keith realizes Shiro (and the team, but mostly Shiro) is in trouble, he drops everything at once to rush in and save him, every single season. It’s just so touching, no matter what you see their relationship as, and I’m just so emo from the S4 finale and what that instinct of Keith’s led into.

So here’s a little thing, also inspired by my friend @breeeliss’s tumblr post here where Shiro and Keith webcam and catch up while they’re apart. Hope y'all enjoy!

special thanks to @ashinan @keith-shiro and @kcgane :D

Also on AO3.

They’re letting him go. Keith knows it’s for the best.

But just know that we’re here for you whenever you need us.

He pulls away from the hug, content with the way their differences worked themselves out. They want the best for him and he couldn’t be more thankful.

As he heads towards the exit, he looks back at them. Hunk, Coran, and Pidge are tearful but accepting. Shiro, Allura, and Lance are full of hope. They’re all smiling at him with pride in their eyes, the kind of pride one would expect from family, the kind Keith’s never experienced before meeting Shiro.

His eyes make a final sweep over his team and linger on Shiro. The understanding in his expression is the same one Keith fell for all those years ago: the silent gaze that’s always made Keith feel known. Seeing it now, Keith knows with certainty that Shiro has never needed any further explanations. And after everything he’s gone through to get Shiro back, it’s now Keith’s turn to leave.

I know you are. And I can’t tell you how much that means to me.

He’s glad for it. The Blade is important to him — it’s where he’s meant to be. Just like Shiro was meant to be in the Black Lion. To be a leader.

They will accept this. They have to.

And even if they don’t, Keith doesn’t plan on giving them a choice.

So with a smile and one last look, he departs from his newfound home in pursuit of another.

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anonymous asked:

Are you still taking prompts? Damian and Jon playing Mario Kart or whatever video game you want to use.

Okay, since you said I could use any video game I want (haven’t played mario kart, sorry. Aside from Pokemon, Nintendo wasn’t part of my childhood), I’m going to use Injustice 2 XD

Also, I’m sorry anon, but I am going to hijack your prompt! I’m going to use this to express my refusal to believe that Damian will ever go back to becoming an evil character! What I noticed was, in about 4, yes FOUR different times, DC has predicted that Damian will revert back to his evil ways in some way when he grows up.  Nope, I am not having it!

Damian has worked too hard, has literally died and back, to prove that he has changed for the better. There is nothing that will convince me that 13 years of great character development for Damian will be thrown aside because he turns evil again in the future! Nothing! 

And you know why I’m so sure of that? Because our Damian in this main timeline right now has someone that all of those evil adult Damian timelines didn’t have…a certain boy named Jonathan Samuel Kent.

“I’m picking Robin,” Damian announced.

He placed the cursor on a portrait of a much older Damian on the screen, and then an electronic monotonous voice intoned ‘Robin’.

“Heh, that’s so like you,” Jon replied dryly. “Well, if we’re picking ourselves it’s not fair for me. I don’t know why but, I haven’t seen a single game with a Superboy on it.”

“Just pick your dad,” Damian teased. “You’re practically the same anyway, except you’re three decades lamer.”

Jon stuck his tongue out at Damian. “Shut up, this Superman isn’t my dad. This one’s like, super evil. I’m never gonna pick…‘not-dad’, he said with finality. He ended up picking Bizarro, earning him a snort from Damian.

“Hey, don’t laugh!” Jon chided Damian. “Jason said he’s actually pretty cool.”

“Todd said the same thing about your costume,” Damian casually replied.

“Hey, what’s that supposed to mean?” Jon asked with a raised brow.

“Just that his idea of clothing gets him thrown out of most restaurants,” Damian answered with a smirk. “But never mind that, it’s time to kick your ass!”

The boys had gotten a copy of a new fighting video game that was inexplicably based on the world’s heroes, which included renditions of most of the people that Jon and Damian knew. It had an impressive roster of intricately rendered characters like their fathers, the League, and other heroes—including weirdly out of place characters they didn’t know about like an ice ninja, a Japanese thunder god, and a red horned man with a gun.

As they game advertised, it was set in an alternate universe where Superman became an evil dictator, and the whole world decided that being dark and gritty was an essential part of a balanced diet. With equal parts amusement and curiosity, Damian and Jon had decided to play the game with little more intention than to laugh at how hilariously off the characters were compared to their real-life counterparts.

But Damian being Damian, he also played to win. And Jon being Jon, he was definitely not going to lose to Damian in anything.

The Damian in the game was much older, and as Jon put it—much to real Damian’s chagrin—a lot taller and better-looking. He also used a sword which he used in most of his attacks. The real Damian picked up on the controls quickly, and there wasn’t a single moment where game Damian wasn’t swinging his lethally sharp blade. It whistled with a shrill shwing with every strike, making it sound even more dangerous.

Unfortunately for Damian, Jon’s character, Bizarro, had ice beams that shot out from his eyes.

“Gah! You cheater…” Damian grumbled as game-Damian was interrupted from a flashy sword combo by a single ice beam. “Fighting  in a two-dimensional field is idiotic. If it were really me, I’d have sidestepped that!”

“Told you Bizarro is cool.” Jon giggled.

“I hate you and your puns!” Damian groaned. “That’s it, taste defeat, farm boy!” He executed game Damian’s special move—a sword combo with an explosive finish via batarang. It was enough to give Damian the round.

“Hah!” he pumped his fist in triumph.

Instead of looking disappointed with his loss, Jon’s cheeks were almost bursting from stifling his laughter.

“What…what’s so funny?” Damian asked as his smug smile wavered.

“Your special…” Jon began as he breathed in  to compose himself, “was to do an awkward ninja run, look really stiff while using your sword…then pose and wait for three whole seconds before your batarangs hit me.”

“That was two seconds, tops,” Damian said, completely missing the point.

Jon snorted and burst out laughing.

“Damian…your video game self was so extra, it’s like the only thing you left out was shades and shiny teeth.  You were trying way too hard to look cool.”

“Hey,” Damian protested. “It’s a decently styled—”

“The only thing that makes this even funnier is that it’s totally you,” Jon giggled heartily.

Damian frowned. He didn’t know how to retort without making it obvious that for a few seconds, he’d actually wanted to try posing like his game-self did.

The boys kept playing and trying different characters until Damian went back to playing himself. Jon chose Batman for the first time, and he noticed Damian tense up. As the story of the game went, game-Damian turned against Batman and sided with Superman. Game-Batman had readily abandoned his son in turn. Whenever the two of them would face each other in the game, they’d both spew out scathing and hateful taunts that made Damian squirm.

This time, Jon won handily, winning with Batman’s special move.

Jon blinked. “Did your game-dad just…use a bat-shaped jet to drag you in the air and blow you up with a small army’s worth of bullets and missiles…?”

Damian looked as mind-blown as Jon. “That…was the most impractical use of the Batwing I’ve ever seen.”

“That was overkill,” Jon mused.

“And that’s considering that my dad has intentionally rammed the Batwing into things in real life before,” Damian nodded.

“Hey, Damian?” Jon asked as he eyed his friend anxiously. “Are you okay? You seem kinda antsy ever since I picked your dad…”

Damian avoided looking straight into Jon’s eyes. “What do you think about how the game depicted my future?” he asked with a guarded expression.

Jon raised his eyebrows—the question took him by surprise. “It’s a video game. I don’t really care what they said you were.”

“But you thought that the Damian in the game was evil, right?” Damian continued, glancing expectantly at Jon.

“Well, I mean, everyone was sort of on this gray line—“ Jon stopped after seeing Damian’s annoyed look. “Okay, fine, I thought he was evil. The game makes it a point to make you act as unlikeable as possible anyway.”

Damian shifted uncomfortably on the couch. He sighed as if resigning himself to a cruel fate.

“That game…” Damian began, his words calm but measured.  “It’s not the first time that something predicted that I would betray my father and turn to evil in the future.”

Jon listened with rapt attention as Damian continued. He’d never seen Damian this gravely serious before.

“When I was adventuring with Maya, an artifact manifested future versions of ourselves based on the parts of ourselves that we couldn’t come to terms with. I was forced to fight an adult version of myself that was still the bloodthirsty assassin my grandfather trained. I barely survived.”

“Wow…that’s rough,” Jon said gently. He could tell that Damian was upset in a way that could not easily be dismissed.

“That’s not all,” Damian continued. “There’s…something I’ve never told you before. Drake…he created this computer program that could calculate a person’s approximate future based on their experiences and personality. On two separate instances, that program predicted that I’d turn back to my old ways—once as the new ruthless leader of the League of Assassins…

“…and another as a more tyrannical and deadly version of Batman. 

“Either way, it seems like everything agrees that my future will see me becoming the evil I’d sworn to reject.”

Damian ended with a solemn silence. He bowed his head and stared at his knees. “Do you understand why I never told you this before?” he asked Jon, who had a mixed look of confusion and concern on his face. “Knowing what I’d just told you…and what I’m destined to become, no one in their right minds would associate with me. And I wouldn’t blame you if you decided to leave and stop talking to me.”

Jon knew that Damian wasn’t the kind of person who cried much—if at all. But the sheer cold silence that Damian was giving him was worse. It was as if Damian was deathly certain that he would leave right then and there and never come back. Damian had already accepted that Jon didn’t want to be friends with him anymore, and that he was just waiting for Jon to say so.

Jon knit his brow. Damian’s willingness to accept his dark future was frightening, to be sure. But one detail, or rather, the lack of a certain detail, tugged at his mind.

“Damian,” Jon asked carefully. “In all those futures…what happened to me?”

Damian wrinkled his nose at Jon. “Those were my futures, not yours. Why would you ever be in them?” he snapped.

“Because, dummy,” Jon retorted with a stubborn look. “Do you think I’d let any of those bad futures happen to you? Now, tell me where I was in your future, or when exactly you got those predictions. Did we even know each other already  when you got them?”

“Well I…” Damian trailed off, his eyes widening in apparent realization. “No, I suppose we hadn’t met yet when the program had made the predictions. You weren’t there yet when Maya and I were completing my atonement for the year of blood. And you and I’ve only been public as a team recently, so the game wouldn’t have put you in…”

“Then that settles it!” Jon declared ecstatically. “Damian, there’s one thing that your futures didn’t count on—the fact that we became friends!”

“What do you mean?” Damian asked with genuine curiosity.

“Damian…in the first place, I don’t believe that just because some things predict your future, you can’t decide it for yourself,” Jon explained adamantly. He was wringing his hands as if willing Damian to understand.

“I don’t care how many people say your future will get messed up—you’re a good person. You’ve fought and sacrificed so much to become who you are today. You’ve become someone that your family loves and cares about! You’re not Damian, Ra’s Al Ghul’s grandkid. You’re Robin, son of Batman.”

“And more importantly—“ Jon continued, cutting off Damian’s inevitable retort. “Dude, I’m your friend! I mean, sure, we argue sometimes, and you’re mean, and you tease me a lot…”

“Tt,” Damian clicked his tongue as if to say ‘that’s not helping’.

“But…we’re friends.” Jon waved dismissively. 

“Not just because we’re working together as superheroes, either. We’re friends because we want to be. Because I want to be. You…you get what it’s like to be a kid and a hero at the same time, I can talk to you, and we can hang out and stuff. I never tell you this but, I kinda look up to you, you know? You’re always so in control and awesome, and like a ninja and…sometimes it’s cool…”

“Are you saying you think I’m cool?” Damian smirked.

“Shut up Damian! I’m in the middle of something here!” Jon chided him. “What I’m trying to say is, whatever happens…I’ll help you find a future that’s better. I’m not gonna leave you. We’re partners, now and in any future. Your bad futures aren’t gonna happen because I’m here to make sure they don’t.” Jon flashed Damian a toothy grin.

“And if for some reason, I end up having to fight you and fulfill that dark future?” Damian asked coyly. His voice, however, had softened and relaxed.

“Then I’ll beat you, duh!” Jon emphasized. “Laser eyes beats sword, remember?” he finished by sticking his tongue out.

“You sound so sure,” Damian said as he shook his head. Whether it was in disbelief or gratitude, Jon wasn’t sure.

“Don’t worry about your future,” Jon said with a grin. He held Damian’s hands enthusiastically. Before Damian could even protest,  he was already hovering a few inches off the floor, carrying Damian with him.

“Superboy’s got your back!” Jon promised.

The corner of Damian’s lips twitched. He wasn’t in a hurry to show any kind of emotion. But what he said next was better than any sort of ‘thank you’ that he could think of.

“I know. I believe you.”

There you go, guys! Consider this fic my rebuttal against DC trying to make Damian evil as an adult! No way Jon would ever let that happen! I’m convinced that Jon would help keep Damian good if anything would ever tempt him to return to his less heroic ways. I hope this fic was okay, I was agitated when I wrote it and it might have typos and stuff :p

Also shoutout to @harljordan who let me use their awesome edit from Supersons #8 above :)

Royal Menagerie Translation

A lot of people already pointed out how there are differences between the different localizations of Final Fantasy XIV in what exactly is said and how that sheds a new light on characters. A friend of mine asked me to take a look at the German version in regards to Zenos, so here we go for all who are curious. 

Below the cut is a direct comparison between the English dialogue with Zenos and the German version, with a literal translation of it. 

Heavy Spoiler warning for the Ending of 4.0, of course.

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Klaine one-shot - “The Singles Test” (Rated PG13)

Blaine has wanted to ask Kurt out since the day Kurt was hired at Vogue. He even set a goal date - by the end of summer. Now that day is here, and he’s not ready. Not only is he insecure, he doesn’t even know if Kurt is single. But he can’t avoid it because Tina knows, and Tina’s going to make sure Blaine asks Kurt out … even if it kills him. (2777 words)

Notes: Inspired by the video Part of my new series I’m calling Buzzfeed Klaine - Klaine one-shots inspired by Buzzfeed videos. I’ve been working on it for months, and this is the first installment. This one-shot assumes that Blaine and Tina are friends from high school who don’t meet Kurt until they are hired on at Vogue in New York.

Read on AO3.

“Alright, Blainey! Today’s the day!”

“What day?” Blaine looks up from his phone as his best friend grabs him by the shoulders and steers him down the hallway. “What are you talking about?”

“Today is the day you ask Kurt Hummel out on a date.”

Blaine looks at Tina’s determined face, remaining remarkably calm as panic sets in between his eyes. “Wh-what? W-why would I do that?”

“Because the amazing Mr. Kurt Hummel is, like, the only thing you’ve talked about for the past three weeks. Since the second Isabelle hired the guy.”

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50 Things I’m Convinced Tay & Joe Do - Baby Edition 

1. Taylor smirking at Joe who claims that the air in the doctor’s room is dry which is the reason why his eyes are watering right after they found out that they’re having a girl.
2. Joe’s protective hand constantly reaching for her belly at night whenever she’s changing her sleeping position.
3. Joe opening his Christmas gift from her that was casually placed under the Christmas tree and him becoming incredibly emotional in front of both of their families because inside the little box, there is a positive pregnancy test.
4. Taylor and Joe only telling their families and closest friends about her pregnancy at first because Taylor’s too scared to miscarry.
5. Joe replacing all Nespresso capsules in their houses with decaf capsules because he knows how hard it is for her to waive proper coffee.
6. Taylor developing a weird disgust towards roasted meat yet always attends dinner at Joe’s family and eats the Sunday roast even if most of it lands in the toilet just minutes after they get home.
7. Joe always telling Tay that his mum won’t be mad if she’d tell her about her meat related nausea but Taylor still swallows the food anyway.
8. Joe being overprotective, especially on these days when she’s not feeling well and he’s gone for work. So as soon as she doesn’t pick up her phone for a couple of minutes, he’d immediately call Andrea who then has to calm him down with a soft laugh and a gentle “both of your girls are alright, honey. She’s watching TV with me and her phone’s in the kitchen, so don’t worry.” while Taylor would roll her eyes at his protective behavior but deep down knows how incredibly thankful she is for it.
9. Scott always teasing Joe with referring to him as “Daddy over there wants some more potatoes, Andrea” or greeting Joe with “Hi Daddy, how’s it going?” whenever they see each other.
10. Taylor trying to convince him that their daughter needs to have an old classic and British name such as “Hazel” or “Eleanor” and Joe reminding her that she’s giving birth to a baby, not an old lady.
11. Taylor feeling incredibly maternal at the end of the second trimester and most of the time falling asleep with a pull string musical crib toy on her belly that plays one of her songs (a gift from her fans, of course).
12. Joe spending at least half an hour cuddled up to her belly and talking to the baby after not having seen Taylor for a couple of days, always kissing the round belly and telling her how sad he is sometimes because Taylor gets to carry the baby around and feel her all day, but he can’t.
13. Taylor and Joe constantly fighting about her wanting to wear heels tonight, and him getting angry because she could trip and fall.
14. Taylor being mad at him for an entire day because she thinks that he thinks that she’s too stupid to walk on high heels for the length of one evening.
15. Joe figuring out that the only way to deal with her current hormones is to always give in and let her know how sorry he is and how right she was.
16. Joe constantly finding her asleep at the weirdest places in the house. Once on a stool with head on the kitchen isle, once on the floor in her walk- in closet.
17. Taylor feeling like a teenager again because she finds herself crying so often whenever he’s gone filming for a couple of days and she misses him badly.
18. Taylor being mocked by everyone in her family because she developed the habit to “free the bump” whenever she’s sitting on the patio and a ray of sunshine is crossing the sky. “The baby needs Vitamine D, guys. Shut up.” she’d say, enjoying the warmth on her belly.
19. Joe volunteering in applying cream on her belly to prevent stretch marks every night.
20. Taylor having an increased need for sex in the first months and Joe teasing her with it as much as he can, smirking and mumbling a casual “got it out of your system, love? If yes could you please move a bit so I can watch the rest of this movie? Thank you.” after she just came down from the fifth orgasm that day, sitting on his lap and distracting him from watching a movie on the couch in the living room.
21. “So rude.” she’d mumble and receive a mischievous laugh from him before cuddling up in his arms again.
22. Joe’s standard joke being “I mean, I was in the room when the baby was conceived to I might as well be in the room when the baby’s delivered” whenever he’s asked wether he’ll be in the delivery room or not and Taylor rolling her eyes every single time, “He thinks he’s so funny, it’s incredible.”
23. Joe having the shock of his life when Taylor fainted a couple of times during the first weeks of pregnancy because of low blood pressure, which is absolutely normal yet scared the shit out of him.
24. Joe literally calling her every two hours to remind her to drink water and eat something when she’s at a meeting because he knows that she forgets.
25. Joe literally going nuts after some online magazine releases an article calling Taylor “huge and lazy” because she apparently doesn’t work out enough during pregnancy which results in him wanting to sue the media outlet but Taylor calming him down because she doesn’t give a fuck about this kind of stuff anymore.
26. Taylor feeling her baby kick for the first time when they’re at dinner with her parents and Joe really trying not to be too emotional and become a cry- baby but keeping his hand on her belly for what feels like the entire evening.
27. Taylor craving nachos with whip cream on top.
28. Taylor sitting on the examination couch while waiting for her doctor, trying her best to bat Joe’s hands away from the model of a fetus in a womb: “Stop touching it. You’ll break it!” When the small plastic baby pops out of the fake uterus and onto the floor, Joe’s eyes grow wide and she just rolls her eyes while watching him hysterically trying to put the model back together again before the doctor enters the room.
29. Joe thanking her for carrying his baby and giving him his own little family whenever they both lay awake at night, but the pleasure is all hers.
30. Taylor hiding her big bump and boobs under oversized sweaters because she’s insecure about her physical changes.
31. Joe being well aware of her insecurities which makes him comment things like “you’re so stunning, baby. Is that shirt new?” or “you look gorgeous this morning, how’d you sleep?”.
32. Joe noticing how motherly Taylor has become because of all the hormones in her body. So every time Patrick is joining them on a winter walk she’d remind the boy to fix his scarf because „it’s colder than you think“ and every time Patrick has a cold she’d cook him a chicken soup, even If he didn’t ask for it which is why Joe and him can’t help but tease her constantly by calling her ‚mummy‘.
33. Taylor being embarrassed as hell for an entire week because her morning sickness was really bad while she and Joe were stuck in traffic and she had to throw up in a plastic bag after mumbling “I don’t want it to happen, I don’t want it to happen” while sitting next to him which resulted in her having vomit in her hair while crying and him calming her with a hand on her leg: “s’ fine, baby. C'mon. Just glad you feel better now.”
34. Joe’s mum bursting out to tears as she opens her birthday present and finds an ultrasound scan, which automatically makes Tay emotional as well while hugging his mum for more than five minutes straight.
35. Taylor often having trouble sleeping because she either struggles with immense nausea or her baby being super active.
36. Joe not hesitating to rub her naked tummy for almost an hour when she’s feeling super sick and can’t fall asleep while whispering in her ear how much he loves her and how happy he is with her in his life.
37. Joe waking up one night with tears in his eyes because in his dreams he was holding his baby in his arms and he could see what she looks like and smell her and hear her laugh and everything felt so real, which was the most amazing feeling he has ever felt.
38. Joe noticing how Taylor craves his closeness even more since she’s pregnant which is why he pulls her into a long hug as often as he can or kisses her forehead more often.
39. Taylor showing literally everyone she knows her new “trick” that is placing objects on her huge belly like a tray.
40. Joe counting all ten toes and all ten fingers on the baby, first thing: “just want to make sure you’ll be able to write some songs. Or make action movies..“ he’d mumble towards the baby, making Taylor laugh from afar.
41. Baby Alwyn- Swift having all of Taylor’s features, blonde curls included, but Joe’s lips and his rather introvert personality.
42. Joe holding the baby in front of Taylor’s tummy and mumbling a sleepy “we’ll have to put you back in there again if you don’t sleep, love. m’ warning you. The nights were a lot quieter with you in there.” which makes Taylor laugh and the baby stare at him confused before receiving a laugh and a small kiss from her dad.
43. Taylor announcing the birth of her baby on Instagram with posting a black and white photo of Joe kissing tiny baby feet and the caption “Never felt so blessed in my life. Thanks for all the congratulations and kind messages.”
44. Joe pretending to eat the baby’s foot or hand which always makes the little one laugh and Taylor as well.
45. Taylor posting a boomerang on Instagram for fathers day that shows Joe blowing raspberries on the baby’s stomach with a smile on his face and captioning it with “you have changed my heart forever. Happy Father’s Day.”
46. Joe already spoiling his little girl when she’s just a little toddler and Taylor really not liking it: “He can’t say no. Never. Now she’s just a baby but if he keeps that up our child will be a spoilt rat in a few years” she’d complain to her mom.
47. Joe surprising Taylor with a vacation to the Bahamas because the baby hasn’t been sleeping at all in weeks and they both wander around like ghosts all day long which is why they both urgently need some relaxation away from London and Nashville.
48. Joe realizing that his baby daughter has a miniature version of his lips which is why he always holds her tiny face right next to his for comparison when they’re with friends and family.
49. Joe giving the newborn on his arm a tour around their house when both of their parents came over for a first visit at home. He’d stop with her on his arms in the bedroom and mumble “..and this is where you were made, my love” which results in her family’s laughter and an embarrassed Taylor yelling “oh my god, Joseph. You are unbelievable.”
50. Joe teaching his little girl how to give kisses and always claps his hands to cheer on her whenever her lips made the right move to meet his. After some time, the baby girl loves to give her daddy wet kisses and afterwards automatically claps her little hands as well which makes Joe and Taylor burst out in laughter every time.