things i do when i

anonymous asked:

If you're still taking prompts how about FS+ 34) things you said in your sleep please. Love your writing!

Aww, thank you! Normally this type of prompt would lead to 100% angst coming from me, but instead here’s more fluff than I ever thought possible. Shoutout to my husband for brainstorming with me for this, even though his ideas were terrible. Just truly awful. But it did lead to this haha!

——

Jemma wakes freezing, goosebumps dotting her skin. Fitz has rolled away from her at some point in the night, taking the blanket with him. She frowns, grabbing a corner and attempting to pull it back. She’s certainly survived much worse sleep deprivation before, but at fifteen weeks pregnant she’s gotten a bit prickly about having her sleep disrupted. It doesn’t help that in about three hours she’ll be sick, like clockwork.

Fitz has the blanket wrapped all around him somehow and her gentle tugging only causes him to twist further away from her. She groans in frustration.

“C’mon, Rosie,” he mutters. Jemma’s mouth drops open as she gapes at her still-sleeping husband. So first he steals all of the blankets, and now he’s dreaming about another woman? She’s going to kill him, she really is. She just needs to think of an appropriate punishment.

She waits for a moment, holding her breath, but he doesn’t say anything else. Suddenly inspired, she leans over until she’s hovering right over him, whispering into his ear in a way that always makes him shiver when he’s awake. “What about Jemma?” she breathes, placing a kiss to his earlobe. “Won’t she find out?”

He shifts, burying his face in the pillow. “No,” he mumbles. “We’ll keep…secret.”

Jemma snaps from annoyed to devastated in half a second. She bursts into tears before she’s even aware of what’s happening, and she hates herself for it. She’s always kept careful control over her emotions, but the pregnancy hormones flooding her system have brought everything to hover just under the surface, ready to push through at the slightest provocation.

Her wracking sobs startle Fitz awake, and he rubs at his eyes groggily in a way she normally finds adorable but which only serves to splinter her heart even more.

“Je-Jemma?” he asks, face lit up with concern. “Jemma, what happened? Are you okay? Is the baby okay?” He stumbles over his questions and the blanket, trying desperately to reach her, but she just holds her hands up to stop him.

“We’re fine,” she spits, “not that you would care.”

He looks so hurt that she almost takes it all back. She knows she’s being illogical. She also knows that Fitz would never, ever cheat on her. It’s not like he can control his dreams, and just because she’s never once dreamt of being with anyone besides him doesn’t mean he’s done anything wrong. Maybe he has certain desires that his subconscious brain enjoys exploring. Maybe…maybe he’s feeling different, now that her body is changing. He never looks at her with anything but his usual reverence, but still, it’s a possibility.

She knows all this, but it’s three in the morning and she can’t forget how easily he had told someone else they’d keep whatever happened a secret from her. She and Fitz don’t have secrets, not anymore.

“Please,” Fitz whispers, holding his hands toward her placatingly. “Jemma, what happened? You’re scaring me.”

Jemma grabs a pillow and hugs it to her chest, a poor substitute for her husband. She leans forward and inhales his scent as she shudders through more sobs, and she feels a hand on her back, hesitantly rubbing soothing circles beneath her shoulder blades.

“Did you have a bad dream?” and it’s the sweetly protective way he asks, as if he would fight to banish her nightmares, that breaks her.

“How could you?” she cries. “And who’s Rosie?”

His hand stills suddenly against her back. “Uh…wh-what?”

The fact that he doesn’t immediately admit to anything burns. “I heard you,” she says. “In your sleep, I heard you.”

Fitz doesn’t say anything, and when she’s finally brave enough to look up, he’s staring at her with wide eyes and he’s…blushing?

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Ughhhh my brother drives me crazy. He’s one of those people who mean well and then he opens his mouth and you’re like dude really?? Do you even hear yourself rn?? I gave him a ride to work this morning and I was talking about how I am trying to spend the next month getting my intake together cause I’ve been eating whatever I want lately. He responds with ‘yeah your diet is garbage. you really need to change what you eat’ like thanks for repeating what I just said as rude as you could manage?? So I told him that yeah, I get it, obviously. And he legit immediately says 'I just hate how much sugar you eat!!’ And I told him that it’s a good thing he doesn’t have to eat it then. Like seriously?? Fuck off. 😠

jynkiess  asked:

For the Batfam Prompts thing, what about, like, a holiday get-together featuring everybody. Like Thanksgiving or something around the holidays or whatever where they all have to spend time together and be a family. I dunno, could be messy, but it sounds kinda sweet

This took me far longer than it should have for such a short little one shot and, to no one’s surprise, I made it predominately about Jason. But, in my defense, I did start another one centering on Damian, but it was a little too angsty.  

Jason laid on the floor, looking up at the Christmas tree. The lights were multicolored this year, per Stephanie’s request, or else they would have been a neutral white to better suit the Wayne Manor posh aesthetic. And while Jason was sure that white lights might have been just as dazzling, he was quietly thankful for all of the colors. 
The lights seemed to dance to the slow and crooning carol coming from another room, coming alive to waltz in step as they reflected off the ornaments. He could see how it all might inspire a ballet.
He felt warm inside. His breathing was even, his body uncharacteristically relaxed as if he could dissolve in an exhale. It was a rare sensation. 
“Had a little too much eggnog?” Bruce asked, stepping over him and into his field of vision. 
Jason scrunched his nose in response before answering: 
“I thought everyone was asleep.”
“No,” Bruce answered, “I think Dick and Tim are still watching Christmas movies.” 
Jason hummed in answer, pleased at the idea of stillness in the house.
“It’s snowing,” Bruce added after a moment, looking off to a near by window. “Did you see it?” 
“No,” Jason said drowsily. 
“Damian and Alfred were watching it on the veranda when I saw them last,” Bruce said. “You really should see it.”
“I will when I go to bed.” It was a promise Jason planned to fulfill, the idea of snow filling him with some kind of peace.
“You should do that soon.” 
Jason squinted up at him, quirking an eyebrow. 
“You’re about to fall asleep now.” 
“No, I’m not,” Jason lied. 
“Alright, well, just don’t sleep on the floor.” 
“Okay, dad.” Jason had meant to be sarcastic, but suddenly he was a kid again and, if only for just the briefest of moments, the world felt okay, it felt just a little bit brighter. 
“Merry Christmas, Jason.”

When there’s an artist you really wanna commission and you know that prices go up all the time so you save up the money and message them ASAP and then hear back from them a week later for them to tell you their commissions are closed until next month while they rework their prices so now you know you gotta save up even more money yet don’t know how much :’) 

to be loved in parts (ft. texts from men i’ve ‘talked’ to)

“i don’t usually
date darkskin girls but”
sends me into
a panic

i long to sever the ties
i have to my identity
in one large snip
a big chop

or a heavy handed scrub
with the sponge my
Grandma used for
deep rooted stains

just
a
buff
and
polish

and i’ll be enough
to love in full

to be loved in small pieces
is “i don’t usually date black
girls but”

only behind closed doors
and subtweets
my blackness is admired
cherished and respected

in the light
i am only cornrows,
a fat ass, and ebonics

oh to be juiced of all ‘desirable’ qualities
by those who add the beverage
to their morning routine
with their flat tummy tea

but what’s left?

a woman in fear-

crippled by both her identity and the loss of it?

“look at yourself
you’re dark as hell.
you should be thankful i’m still here
cause who would stay?”
straight lace front wigs
and foundation 2 shades 2 light
give me a taste
of the promised land

a land of compliment
without an asterisk

the next time 
i visit i’ll dig myself in the ground
pat the dirt across my body
maybe they won’t notice
i’m not one of them
and i’ll get to stay

Do not take, share or search for photos of BTS wherever they are.

Please, let them enjoy this small break they have. Do not let Bon Voyage happen again.

If you see photos - do not share them. If you see the members - do not share their location, take their photo or follow them.


Please. Do not be a part of the reason as to why they feel they always have to stay in their hotel.

If they wanted to share their location with the fan base, they would have. Right now, I do not feel they want this information to be known. Thus, whatever the reasons are, I feel we can respect that.

5

When you’re under investigation and unable to act officially but you don’t give a f.. about UN’s orders.
Idk, I just wanted to draw theses two together.

If you’re Autistic/ADHD reblog this + tag some of your favorite stims!

anonymous asked:

bakugou gets turned into a baby and the rest of the bakusqaud freaks out but sero's like 'wait guys i got this' and makes one of those babystrap carriers out of his own tape

edit: anon asked for the zoomed in version so here !!!!!