#ice caps meltdown

[photo-art-lady]

Global Warming + Polar Ice Caps Meltdown + Plastic Pollution Of The Oceans + Death Of Sea-Life - Ecologic Campaign With Photo Art Self Portraits By Anya Anti From Ukraine

Afterwards, I'm going to post these photos separately, so that you may re-blog them. This is very important content which needs to be shared to spread the word. We all must act immediately to save this planet. We don't have the right to keep destroying something as perfect as the Earth. We need to think that this is the legacy we're going to pass to our children and they don't deserve to live in a chaotic planet where the law will be to kill or be killed. Bless everyone who may re-blog this.

#fine art photography #anya anti #ukrainian photographer #ecological campaign #photographers on tumblr #women photographers #female photographers #photography #portraiture #photography blog #photoblog #photo-art-lady #photography artwork #global warming #climate change #climate action #climate catastrophe #ice caps #polar ice caps meltdown #plastic waste #pollution #air pollution #water pollution #ocean pollution #death of sea life #save the earth #save the planet #sustainability #environmentalism #environment

[luveline]

could you please write something where maybe bombshell!reader hears one of the team members teasing about how she’s torturing spencer and she kinda backs off with the flirting and maybe it’s his turn to hold her hand and call her cute names because even though he always says he doesn’t mind, maybe he does and he just doesn’t want to tell her

tysm for requesting, 1k

Spencer's hair is brown silk in the sun. You bite your tongue to hold in a compliment rearing to come out, saccharine and completely true. Looking sweet, Spence. 

You love to compliment him and especially while Hotch is out of earshot. He and Derek play pairs against two agents from a different unit, their tennis racquets a shiny FBI navy. You start to speak and bite it back —a memory flashes, a shouting stop sign. 

You'd been teasing Spencer as he left the room, something about his indecisive hair. He's cut it shorter but left his curls without product, and you love it. 

Poor guy, Emily'd murmured, lips set against the rim of her coffee cup. 

What's the matter with him? you asked, perplexed. 

Nothing, just that he spins into a total meltdown every time you guys are within ten feet of each other. He must be exhausted.

She was joking and you know that, but something deep down worries she's right. It's not fair for you to keep winding him up… Especially when Spencer might be going along with you because he isn't sure how to say no. 

What if you're forcing yourself on him? 

You're sitting together on a small blanket in the grass with Anderson and a few of the other less competitive BAU agents. You bring your bottled iced tea to your forehead to cool down, condensation wetting your hot skin. The top of your head feels as though it has the full concentration of the sun beating against it. 

Spencer looks up at your movement. He's been reading a book for pleasure, or so he says, so he isn't going a mile a minute but he's still way faster than the average Joe. "Do you want to go find some shade?" he asks. 

"You look comfortable," you say, putting your iced tea aside.

Which is to say, I don't want you to come with me, it would disrupt you. Spencer nods and turns to the brown leather of his familiar satchel, popping the buckle open to dig around inside. 

"Do you think this would be okay?" he asks, bringing out his baseball cap. 

The fabric is starchy and the brim stiff as you accept it and wedge it over your head. You don't immediately cool, but your heart spins strange loops. "Thank you," you say. Thank you, handsome, gorgeous, baby, all beg to be said. 

Spencer stays looking at you for longer than normal. 

"Do I have something on my face?" you ask, swatting self consciously at your cheeks. 

"Nothing. You look really pretty," he says. 

"Thank you." Another loop. You point at his book, fingertip hitting a creamy page with a small thud. "Is this any good?" 

"I think you'd really like it, it feels like that last book I borrowed from you, and you loved that. They're very similar. I can lend it to you when I'm done." 

"Don't rush it for my sake."

Spencer gives you a private smile. "I won't. Just because you could watch a movie at two times speed doesn't mean you should." 

Your returning smile isn't half as nice. No shared lightness, no bright eyes. You're feeling awkward and unhappy —you really like Spencer. Like, you think you could be happy together for a long long time sort of like. He's charming and sweet and no one is ever as kind to him as he deserves, which is why you're trying to be kind now by putting distance between you.

You'll be brash forever. You can't change that, and Spencer doesn't need the stress of dealing with you, not on top of everything else. 

His smile fades as yours does. Quiet, without fuss, he scoots back on the picnic blanket, putting you knee to knee. The subtle muscle of his arm presses to yours and his hand wraps gently around your wrist as he dips his head down, his cheek touching briefly to your shoulder. 

"I know it's nice, but if the heat is getting to you we should go inside," he says, his fingers sliding across your palm to slot between your own. He squeezes your hand. "Heat stroke isn't obvious at first. Do you feel woozy?"

You stare at your twined fingers. He surprises you again, being this soft with you, and being uncharacteristically forward. Or maybe not uncharacteristic at all; Spencer won't let something like timidity stop him from comforting someone that needs it. 

"Spence," you murmur, closing your eyes, face angled down. 

"What?" 

"I'm sorry if I… If I've been messing you around. But I don't think this is a good idea." 

"What's not a good idea?" 

You can't make yourself say it. Instead, you rub the back of his hand, more for your own comfort than his, your tongue like a useless lump in your mouth. 

"You're sorry? Are you sure you're okay?" Spencer asks, no heed to the people sitting with you as he lets go of your hand to put his arm behind your shoulder like a shield. 

"I don't want to torture you," you say. 

Your friends love that word. You torture Spencer with your flirting and your easy affection. 

Spencer makes a face, eyes squinting and nose wrinkled. "They're just kidding when they say that. Emily, Morgan, they like making fun of me, it's like, sibling bonding or something. They don't say it because there's actually something to feel sorry about." He lowers his voice, bashful but sincere at once, "If you're torturing me, I guess I'm a masochist." 

You laugh without thinking, a breathless, girlish sound you'd regret if you had the wherewithal. "You're a masochist?" you ask. 

He takes the brim of your borrowed hat and pushes it up to unobstruct the view of your eyes. 

"If that's what it takes," he says. A hint of wryness creeps into his otherwise smooth tone. 

Despite his brave talk and his steady eye contact, his face has started to blush. A rosy hue kisses the tops of his cheeks and his nose, a dusting of pink splodges stark against his paleness. The curve of his lips seems extra tantalising now. He's very, very pretty. 

And he doesn't mind stepping in to take the reins when you're unsure of things. 

"We really should sit in the shade for a bit," he says. "Let's get drinks from the gazebo. Yeah?" 

You're halfway through a nod when he kisses your cheek too quickly for you to respond. You follow him to the gazebo without any more reluctance, weaselling your hand back into his, and attempt to pull another kiss from him.

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #criminal minds x reader

[sophiethewitch1]

What We Want - Prologue

In Which A Romantic Breaks The Universe

(Yandere!batboys x f!reader) 18+ MDNI!

SUMMARY

Another lonely birthday, another empty year. You miss your family. You're late for your bills and rent, and even then, you got robbed last Tuesday.

Still, you buy yourself a cupcake, because you need it. I mean, hey. What's dessert for if not to get over cheating boyfriends and dead relatives?

As you blow out the candle, watching the clock switch from 11:59 pm to midnight of the next day, you make a wish.

And because the world doesn't like to make much sense, it comes true. Your life is suddenly flipped on a dime, and you're stuck trying to catch up with it. Fantasy becomes reality. You're a Wayne now, apparently. Or you used to be. You're loved, you're rich, you're talented and powerful.

Well, sort of. Careful what you wish for, right?

(TRIGGER WARNINGS AND MASTERLIST HERE)

PREV - NEXT

The cupcake is smashed. Pink icing and gaudy star-shaped sprinkles coat the interior of the box, and the pastry itself has devolved into crumbs. You just stare at it. It had cost you seventeen dollars. It was expensive, yeah. But you’d spent the last three months walking past it every morning and afternoon in the bougie cafe’s windows. You’d waited. You’d wanted.

And it was destroyed. Completely. The perfect swirl of the buttercream was no more. The single, delicate flower made of frosting had lost half it’s petals. You weren’t sure how you could eat it. The wrapping had been warped, but maybe a tea spoon would work?

You let your head fall into your hands, a sob wracking your shoulders. And then less than a second later you swallow down the feeling, and stride over to your shitty apartment’s tiny kitchen. You grab a lighter, a plastic wine glass and the bottle of white wine Molly had given you earlier today. You hadn’t told her what happened yet, but she could tell something had. She’d gave you the wine, a hug, and the promise to always be by your side.

Despite today’s circumstances, despite this week’s circumstances, despite this decade’s circumstances, you were going to have a good birthday getting black-out drunk.

You weren’t going to let yourself sink into one of your funks. Even if it was the worst day of the year by far. Even if it was the second worst birthday of your life.

You just don’t. It’s not allowed.

Your phone rings. Sliding it out of your pocket, you stare blankly at the name on the screen. Speak of the devil, and he shall appear.

Malcom. One of George’s friends. You reject the call, block the number, and slide your phone back in your pocket. See? Dealing with things like an adult. Not throwing a temper tantrum, not crying, not… well, destroying your life in an epic meltdown. You’d had a few of those. Still, despite your obvious erraticness, you hadn’t been fired this year. Yay!

You told yourself you were getting better, even as the universe seemingly conspired against your happiness. You were kind of convinced it was.

Turning, you play with the cap on the wine, walking over to your old ratty couch and falling into it. The beast groans at the contact, but you pay it no mind. The thing was probably older than you, and you were celebrating your twenty-first today.

You were an orphan in Gotham, it was not your first time drinking. Molly had dragged you to so many awful parties over the years. But this wine was probably the fanciest you’d ever been given. Scratch that, definitely was. You pour yourself a glass, stick the birthday candle half-hazardly into the largest chunk of cupcake, and grab the remote.

The only true comfort you can get on this day. A woman, a reporter. She speaks, but you can’t really hear what she’s saying. You chug down a glass of the wine, apologising in your head to Molly, and then pour yourself another.

It takes a few minutes, but your muscles relax, and her words tune into focus.

“Today’s memorial, is once again sponsored by the Wayne foundation.”

Yeah, because they’re the only charity organisation in the city. The family of billionaires were debatably the only good ones in existance. Debtable because you weren’t sure if they were good enough themselves. As an orphan who’d known the cruelty of the system yourself, you were a mix of bitter and grateful towards them. Sure, they’d been the only thing that kept you out of true poverty. You were still an awful bitch about it.

You always had been the jealous type. The other kids who got better backpacks or toys or whatever had you seething with fury. The multitude of orphans Bruce Wayne risen out of poverty were not safe from your envy. It didn’t matter if you were… Well, a little bit, just a teeny-tiny-tiddly-little bit… obsessed. Obsessed with them. Kind of manic about it, actually.

You were working on it. Today was a bad day, and you were a little too raw. So, like every little dumb animal on the planet, you went straight to your creature comforts. You pretended you were a roman eating and drinking on their chaise lounge, watching their magnificent entertainment.

Delusional. Your sofa was falling apart at the seems, your cupcake was debris and your entertainment was a memorial service. Wine was good, though.

Gotta focus on the good parts.

You watch the TV screen, the reporter’s voice drifting in and out of focus. There was a family photo of the Waynes and their family friends, all in perfect suits and dresses and pearls and fancy watches. You’d bet that those little accessories were worth more than a year of your rent.

And you lived in fucking Gotham, both the most expensive city to live in, and the worst at the same time. A miracle, truly.

Anyway, they were all stunningly beautiful, even some of the guys. God knows how much the internet went on about Richard Grayson’s long eyelashes. You’d always been enamored with Dick’s good looks. Even Damian Wayne who had only turned nineteen a few months ago and was three years younger than you was already being fawned over by the tabloids.

Gotham’s newest young rich bachelor. Bitterly envious, that was you. You didn’t like that emotion, though, so you turned your attention to others. Namely, delusion.

You let yourself get swept up in daydreams. Of having a rich family, of one so close knit as the Wayne’s. Of having a handsome, loving, kind partner. You don’t let yourself dream about your real family, of a George that was faithful.

You just don’t.

Maybe someone like Tim Drake. Loyal, everyone who knew him described him as loyal. His romances with Bernard Dowd and Stephanie Brown were famous. There were hundreds of papparazzi photos of him with big bundles of roses and a sweet look on his face. You thought someone like Tim Drake would probably be like one of the heroes in your romance novels. Something silly like a meet cute in an airport, or maybe a bookstore or a cafe. He was pretty famous in Gotham’s niche hipster coffee scene, right?

Yeah, you could see it now. Some dumb but cute scene where you get confused and accidentally take his order. You get the same drink, and bond over your shared love of caramel syrup. Like he didn’t live on the opposite side of the city from you, and you probably couldn’t afford whatever fancy shit he drunk. Italian coffee beans versus… well, you didn’t actually know what you bought. You knew it didn’t taste very good, but it was dirt cheap.

What were you doing? Ah, yes, silly daydreams about romance.

But even as you think of Tim, Dick Grayson was so pretty, and he’d had his fair share of partners too. Someone with such an angelic face had to have a personality to match, and the media agreed. Of course you didn’t really know what he was like, this was all just fantasy. Other than numerous tabloid interviews and television, which suggested he had a kind heart and a love for bad jokes you truly knew nothing about the guy. Still, he’d be the golden retriever trope, you think. Or the knight in shining armor, saving his heroine from one of the many disaster’s plaguing Gotham and confessing his love in one big final act. His meet cute would be the airplane one. The blue of his eyes, it makes you think of the sky. You’d take his seat, but he’d be super sweet about it. Like he didn’t have a private jet, and would never be caught on economy.

You think Damian Wayne could play a good romance lead as well. From what you’d seen, he seemed to have a terrible personality, which was perfect for any modern romance. A classic enemies to lovers, with some bickering. Maybe he’d have secretly loved her the entire time, and maybe there’d be a good grovel at the end. So, appreciating his character, he’d have to have a meet ugly. Probably get stuck in an elevator with him or something, and he’d get to display his keen intellect and argumentative nature.

You swirl your wine, nodding your head. Brilliant ideas today, you should talk to Molly more. She’d definitely appreciate your wisdom. She wanted to be a screen writer one day, and all this would be very helpful. She was going to college for it. You couldn’t afford college.

Maybe you were drunk. Maybe you were a genius. It was hard to tell, so you take another sip. That’ll help you figure things out.

“As always, the Wayne families’ faces are morose as they celebrate the late Jason Todd.”

And as always, you felt an odd connection with the dead man. Your lives had both technically ended the same day, in the same grand calamity. Sure, you were still technically alive. Kicking about. But everyone you loved dying in one fell swoop, right in front of your eyes? You felt more like a ghost these days.

Weren’t you supposed to be fighting those sorts of thoughts off? Whatever, it was too much effort anyway.

Your slight obsession with the Wayne family had been initially started by Jason Todd. You hadn’t been thinking about him as much recently with George in your life, but he swung right back into place as soon as George left your life. Like a magnet, or more likely, a compulsion.

But now you were brought right back to the morning after. Seeing the entire city grieving the day after you’d lost your family, your first thought had been ‘Good, I’m not the only one,’ and then you’d stopped being an idiot and realised the city was mourning Jason Todd, heir to the Wayne name. Sure, there’d been hundreds of others who’d died, but that was Gotham. Your family had gotten a plaque filled with tens of other forgotten names, Jason had gotten framed photos hung around the city.

Today, his photo was once again surrounded by thousands of bouquets. Peonies, roses, daffodils, lillies, a rainbow of petals that almost covered his memorial stone. It reminded you of your sad-ass cupcake. When the camera zoomed out, you could see your smaller set of poseys against one of the thirty towering monuments, the tiny names crammed into the rock. Your families name was on line fifty-two, near the bottom. You could only afford the flowers once a year, but you visited once a week at least.

There were other flowers. Other offerings. Other candles. Jason’s dwarfed them all.

You sometimes couldn’t tell if you hated the dead man or were hopelessly in love with him. Obviously it didn’t matter. Even when he was alive he was out of both your league and your tax bracket.

Still, you were absolutely certain of it, Jason Todd would beat up George Lancaster. So fucking bad. To a bloody pulp. He’d be eager to do it, as well. You could hum and haw about how you thought violence was bad but he’d see right to the core of you.

The part of you that wanted George Lancaster to suffer. And he’d do it with a kiss and a promise that he’d make it slow. He’d save you from all your monsters, and he’d do it eagerly. And that was the fantasy of it all, wasn’t it?

You lift your glass, in celebration of your dead parasocial imaginary boyfriend. You hoped he wouldn’t be jealous of your new living parasocial imaginary boyfriends. Hiccuping out a laugh, you swallow down another gulp.

And even then, of course you wanted Bruce Wayne as a father. As someone who has seen the worst of the world, and would protect you from it. As someone who would wipe away the tears, who would save you from your own self. And you wanted Cassandra as a sister, someone to groan over guys with and steal clothes off. You wanted the close relationships they shared with Barbara Gordon and Stephanie Brown, with Duke who’d only recently come into their fold. You even wanted their dog you’d seen in photos, the cat that Damian posted on his instagram, the fucking cow they kept for god knows reason inside the estate. You wanted everything, every part of their lives. You were a jealous person, but more than that, you were a greedy person.

You glance at the clock.

11:57.

You shakily open the candle packet, picking a green one out. That had been Sam’s last favourite colour, but he switched them so often it was hard to remember. You stab it into the pink frosting. Julie always chose pink for her cake. Chasey loved flowers, particularly poseys. The flowers had looked like posesys before they’d been crushed.

You light the candle. It’s tiny flame flickers in the dark room, the warm light overpowered by the cool from the television. You peek back over to the clock.

11:58.

And Mum always made her wish at midnight, because she believed that was when it was most likely to come true.

What would you wish for? You never did, because you never knew what you wanted to wish for. Everything you wanted, everything you could’ve wanted, was gone. It couldn’t come back, it was impossible.

11:59.

You look at the TV, at the blinding forms of the Wayne family. Of their graveyard, with the manor in the background. It’s as impossible as everything else. But that’s what they represent for you, isn’t it?

Something hopeful. Something impossible.

You wanted impossible.

12:00.

You lean over the messy cupcake, and blow the candle out. It disappears in one blow, and you sink back into the couch. You take a few crumbs from the cupcake and sneak them past your lips. In your drunkenness, you probably get more on the couch than in your mouth.

You let your eyes flutter shut, and because only you can, you give yourself the comfort of lies. You imagine loving embraces, whispered platitudes. You imagine that today was a good day, that you’d find yourself tomorrow happy. That you wouldn’t wake up with a hangover, that you wouldn’t have a shitty job, an evil ex, and mountains of debt.

That you’d have people who loved you, who could ease the pain.

And you don’t even care who they are.

MASTERLIST - NEXT

#Series:WWW #yandere batfam #yandere dc #yandere batfamily #yandere batfam x reader #yandere x reader #dick grayson x reader #nightwing x reader #jason todd x reader #red hood x reader #tim drake x reader #red robin x reader #damian wayne x reader #robin x reader

[stark---contrast]

Come What May

@stevetonygames fill for team Future | Square "Laughing" | For @amysnotdeadyet Rated G | 1.2k words | ao3 link

"I never thought I'd be here," Steve confessed. "As a scrawny, sickly kid, nobody would even look at me twice—and that's if a flu didn't wipe me out before I even had the chance to go on a date at all."

That earned some murmurs of sympathy from the small crowd gathered: familiar faces of friends and colleagues Steve had met in the years after the ice.

Steve cleared his throat and looked down at the card in his hands, with words written in a cursive that hadn't been taught in schools in decades. He’d memorized the contents days ago, but he needed something to do with his hands or he'd end up either standing at parade rest or reaching for a shield that wasn't there.

"The war took a lot from me,” Steve continued. “Even if Rebirth gave me the ability to do what I’d always wanted to, it also made me into something different. Because of the serum, I lost my old life and all my friends—or at least I thought I did."

Steve glanced over his shoulder and Bucky gave a small smirk in encouragement: having Steve's back, like he'd always done.

"I woke up in a place where I had nothing but powers that weren't mine to begin with, thinking I'd missed my chance at a normal life and that being Cap had cost me my humanity," Steve said. Then he smiled, finally looking up to meet the eyes of the man in front of him. “But you've always reminded me of who I really am."

Tony was listening curiously and giving Steve all the time he needed to say his piece, even if he'd teased Steve with 'Jesus, how many cards do you have? I'm blaming you if the guests start snoring' the day before. He was dressed in a three-piece suit that he'd had custom-made, the cut matching Steve's suit and their vests and pocket squares color-coded to create one cohesive unit instead of two separate outfits.

Steve appreciated the symbolism in that.

"Ever since I met you, I've never been just Captain America to you,” Steve told Tony. “Whenever we talked or fought together or, hell, even when we argued—especially when we argued—I was allowed to just be Steve. Even if I didn't get your references, even if I was too stubborn to see things your way, you saw past the shield and treated me like an equal. I’m just a kid from Brooklyn and you're a genius, but you still let me lead the team and came to me for advice even when we didn't get along. Well, a murderbot or two notwithstanding."

Steve smiled and Tony mirrored the action, the corners of his eyes crinkling with lines and wrinkles that had become more pronounced for each year that passed.

"You always said I was too good for a world like this. But coming from one of the most compassionate, generous souls I've ever met, that’s the biggest compliment I could ask for," Steve said. "You're my hero, Tony Stark, and there's no greater honor I can think of than getting to spend the rest of my life with you."

Tony cleared his throat and averted his eyes. "Well, if I didn’t possess even less emotional range than Tom Cruise in Mission Impossible, you can be assured I'd be bawling my eyes out right about now."

The crowd chuckled and Steve could see Nat roll her eyes in the front row.

"I've got my own vows right here, but��" Tony frowned at the cards in his hands. "You know what!" He tossed the cards over his shoulder in a dramatic flourish. "I've always been much better at speeches when I'm improvising. Right, Rhodey-bear?"

Tony glanced at Rhodes by his side, who was looking more like an exasperated parent instead of a best man.

“Twenty years and you still won’t read the goddamn cards,” Rhodes deadpanned, yet didn’t look the least bit surprised.

“I'm living in the moment!" Tony protested.

Steve could distinctly make out strawberry blonde hair in the front row being buried between well-manicured fingers as Pepper, their self-appointed wedding planner, had yet another Tony-related silent meltdown.

Steve would probably end up giving her half of their wedding presents out of guilt. Organizing a superhero wedding was no small feat.

"Anyway, what I wanted to say was…" Tony turned back to face Steve. "That I wake up every day knowing I don't deserve you."

Steve's stomach dropped. "Tony—"

"But!" Tony held up his finger. "You've somehow managed to convince me that maybe, just maybe, I can occasionally be wrong about things."

Someone—who Steve was pretty sure was Clint—gasped theatrically and Tony quickly gestured to the guests. "Now don't get any ideas! I'm still a genius, and everything I've been wrong about is strictly Steve-related."

Steve huffed a quiet chuckle. Tony turned back to face him, a somewhat manic smile on his face as he kept talking.

"From things like 'he doesn't want me on the team', 'he hates the mod I made to his suit', 'he's a self-righteous asshole'...Okay, that one's partly true—"

Bucky snorted behind Steve and Steve shot a betrayed look his way, though wasn't able to hide his own smile.

"—To things like 'he's not into men', 'okay he is but he'd never want me', 'he says he's serious about us but I give it two months, tops', and…"

Tony paused, then looked at Steve: really looked at him, as if he couldn't quite believe that Steve was actually here.

"...And most recently, 'he'd never marry someone like me'," Tony said.

Steve's expression softened, as did Tony's smile and, God, Steve really couldn't think of anything better than getting to be with him for the rest of their lives.

"...We are getting married, right?" Tony gave a lopsided grin. "Because otherwise, uh, awkward," he stage-whispered to Rhodes.

Rhodes sighed. "Barnes, get the rings before he jet repulsors out of here."

As Bucky scrambled for the rings with a muttered curse, Steve couldn't help but laugh at the situation. Even in the middle of their carefully planned wedding ceremony—they'd really hear it from Pepper later—Tony had the ability to change the atmosphere into something much more relaxed with just a few words.

It was one of the first quirks that had gone from 'annoying' to 'endearing' the more Steve got to know him.

The glint of the rings drew Steve back to the present. He accepted the tiny box of satin carrying red and blue and gold from a metal hand and exchanged smiles with Bucky.

Tony's attention was back on Steve and he peered curiously at the rings, like he wasn’t the one who had been poring hours and hours in his workshop into them, all the while teaching smithing to a clueless Steve.

The officiant—who thankfully didn't seem to mind the vows getting derailed—cleared her throat and proceeded with the ceremony.

It wasn't long before Steve had a perfect ring on his finger and was slipping a slightly more clumsily-made one onto Tony's. Tony smiled brighter than the sun and Steve's vision blurred from tears, his cheeks aching from smiling so much.

Once they were declared husband and husband, Tony didn't bother waiting for permission before stepping close to Steve and leaning up for a kiss.

And as their friends cheered and Tony's grinning mouth was meeting Steve's in an eager kiss, Steve couldn't think of anywhere else he would rather be than right here:

Surrounded by laughter and their friends, kissing the man he loved who he now had the privilege of calling his husband.

#stony #stevetony #stony fic #steve rogers #tony stark #superhusbands #starkfic #stevetonygames #fic #mcu

[mahvaladara]

So I just realized Nuclear Energy is actually a clean form of zero emissions energy. It's apparently a reliable 'green energy'. It doesn't produce CO2 emissions and most of the emissions it produces are just water vapor no different than boiling water.

A student of mine went into great detail on all the pros and cons of nuclear energy as a complement to green alternative energies. He was defending this as an alternative to the 'trash' Incenirator Center they want to build on our island to solve the issue of us... running out of space to bury our trash, which could be used as an energy source.

Of course he was saying all this as a way to explain why we should build a nuclear plant on our island, to which I replied: "You do realize that if that thing melts down like what happened to Chernobyl we have nowhere to be immediately evacuated to, unless you plan to swim the 95km it takes to get to the closest island to where we are. And that still does not solve the trash problem."

Anyway, as soon as I got home I decided to google this. And it turns out he was right in the zero emissions thing. I mean, I really never thought if it polluted the atmosphere or not. It is clear that when accidents happen, the radiation produced by it is enough to damage the entire land, but as long as accidents and meltdowns don't happen it isn't something that will cause further polution..

Sooo... All those games with 'nuclear' civilizations that have these shiny and colourful worlds around them are real. A world run in nuclear power has no melting ice caps to worry about, just the possibility of growing a second head and melting from the inside out from radiation poisoning.

I think we associated nuclear energy to bad because of Chernobyl, mutants and the fact 'muricans love to build them in the middle of inhospitable deserts. So I always thought 'nuclear' = apocaliptic wasteland, but apparently as long as accidents don't happen, shiny green and clean world is possible.

But knowing our track record, we're more likely to achieve the apocaliptic wasteland than the shiny clean world XD.

[stormbreaker101]

As per your recent bingo, I am asking about Maulwurf. He's a silly little guy and I hope musicology becomes something we can be taught in the future.

HI. YES. OKAY. SO. WARNING. THIS POST IS RAMBLY. MAULWURF IS MY BOINKY AND MY CHEW TOY. I HAVE BEEN VERY MEAN TO HIM. I LOVE HIM.

putting all my rambles under a readmore to spare the people.

First things first, my interpretation of Maulwurf has veered somewhat off from canon. This is because I started writing my AU Corrupted Spiral before Maulwurf was introduced, and so the scene has changed significantly and some aspects of Maulwurf's story changed with it.

Some completely original background for the guy: his father's side of the family had been involved with the Schismists for generations, and so it simply made SENSE for Maulwurf to follow his father's lead. Maulwurf's father also died when Maulwurf was young, which only pushed Maulwurf further into the Schismists because having the Old One as a father figure is totally not going to devastate his moral compass and emotional wellbeing in the long run, right? RIGHT? Under the Old One's teaching, Maulwurf became a brilliant musicologist and businessman. Creative, analytical, but loyal.

fast forward to the main time period of my AU. It's post Arc 3, but Arc 4 never happens properly because the Scion had what I officially call the Calamity (bc she's a storm wizard who isn't named Calamity herself but i had to get that name in somewhere) and unofficially call a divine meltdown/temper tantrum. Basically, she fucked up bigtime and now magic is running haywire, harming entire worlds (the why doesn't matter here). She also decided to LEAVE the Spiral for a time, so sorry fellas! No Savior figure no more!

Karamelle's taste of the Calamity is torrential storms that threaten to flood and dissolve the entire world. The Old One had been hoping to host his Summit with the Scion like in canon so he could get back to the Arcanum and his pet project Lemuria, but with the Scion going AWOL, that ISN'T a possibility anymore. So he sent loyal loyal Maulwurf to the Arcanum as a spy. The cover story was for Maulwurf to ask for aid fixing the Calamity.

Maulwurf ended up staying in the Arcanum for well over a year. And though he spied on the Arcanum, he also.... became genuine friends with the Arcanum folk. And he saw their consistent determination to save the present Spiral, rather than be complicit in its fate and destruction.

uh oh. smells like traitorhood.

ultimately, Maulwurf is a man who believes in the joys of existence and creation, be it music or magic or food or crafts. He'll create a tune, try to create something more with it, have it explode in his face, and laugh it off. For an explosion requires someTHING to explode, ja?

And the Arcanum were being better co-creators than the Old One and whatever remained of the Schismists were. And the Arcanum fought for existence, while the Schismists promised an eventual destruction of the Spiral and that said destruction is okay.

uh oh. smells like traitorhood.

Of course, it's hard to turn your back on the man who acted as your primary father figure for the majority of your life. But not impossible.

Maulwurf does eventually cut his loyalty to the Old One, and it is one HELL of an emotional Moment for him. However, he still hasn't told anybody but Stallion (yes Stallion happened to get out of the ice despite Arc 4 not happening normally. that's a WHOLE other loredump post) about his history and ties as a Schismist.

oh speaking of ties Maulwurf has to the Schismists. Maulwurf replaced the feather in his cap with a feather from Quake Charmer. They had been buddies. QC is dead now. That's just a small detail headcanon.

GODDDD THERE IS SO MUCH MORE I CAN SAY. All of this stuff doesn't even begin to really touch upon the kind of character he's become in the writing I've done with @klaraflamez. AND BELIEVE ME. HE'S. HE'S. I cant even fucking word right now lmao.

Ultimately, I try to keep Maulwurf someone who holds hopeful even with all the strain he had undergone. His loyalties and connections pull him one way, but he pushes the other way, determined for a brighter existent future. A man of whimsy and creation and depth.

Or in other words, I used to have this Maulwurf-

#ask #thewizardpoliceareafterme #maulwurf von trap #Corrupted Spiral #im not maintagging this as wiz bc. none of this is canon. #sorry it took me so long to answer btw #i had to get the post abt the Schismist word change out first #and then i just have not had time to sit down and just BEAM BLORBO ONTO THE SCREEN #leah speaks :3

[literaphobe]

the meltdown game is clearly something about ice but the image kinda looks like a parkour map so idk. maybe they're trying to bring focus to global warming and the melting ice caps. or maybe it's just spleef or tnt run or something

BRINGING FOCUS TO GLOBAL WARMING ? 😭

#ask #mcc

[nsfwhiphop]

For Ben Affleck & Matt Damon - Read this - 17 thrilling action film ideas - I encourage you to add your own ideas too and I'm sure you'll make these 17 ideas a million times better. Cheers!

Let’s create an exciting list of action film scenes that blend comedy, suspense, fights, and plot twists. Buckle up for a thrilling ride:

Skyline Raiders: In a world where cities float above the clouds, a band of rebels fights to overthrow a tyrannical sky lord controlling the floating metropolises. Imagine epic aerial battles, daring heists, and gravity-defying stunts as they challenge the status quo1.

Neon Samurai: Set in a futuristic Tokyo, a rogue AI resurrects ancient samurai to enforce its rule. A group of hackers must ally with the last true samurai to stop this digital menace. Picture neon-lit sword fights, cybernetic enhancements, and a clash of ancient honor and modern technology1.

Arctic Inferno: An elite team of firefighters faces their greatest challenge when a series of volcanic eruptions threaten to melt the polar ice caps. Think intense rescue missions, lava-filled landscapes, and frosty suspense as they battle nature’s fury1.

Gravity Runners: In a city where gravity can be manipulated, a group of parkour artists becomes involved in a heist to steal a device that controls this power. Expect jaw-dropping chase sequences, rooftop acrobatics, and unexpected double-crosses1.

Ghosts of the Sahara: A team of archaeologists unearths an ancient curse in the Sahara, unleashing spirits that they must now contain. Imagine desert shootouts, ancient artifacts, and a race against time to prevent catastrophe1.

Ocean’s Fury: After a rogue wave cripples their submarine, a crew must navigate underwater dangers to prevent a nuclear reactor meltdown. Picture claustrophobic tension, deep-sea battles, and high-stakes decision-making1.

The Last Library: In a future where books are banned, a band of rebels fights to protect the last remaining library from destruction by a totalitarian regime. Expect covert operations, hidden knowledge, and a battle for intellectual freedom1.

Cyber Gladiator: In a digital realm, a skilled gamer is thrust into a real-life battle when his online enemies materialize in the real world. Think virtual combat, glitchy landscapes, and a quest for survival across dimensions1.

The Maze of Minos: Modern adventurers discover the legendary Labyrinth of Crete, battling a monstrous new Minotaur with ancient secrets. Imagine deadly traps, mythical creatures, and a maze where every turn holds danger1.

Echoes of Atlantis: A deep-sea diver discovers the lost city of Atlantis, only to find it’s a high-tech civilization at war with surface nations. Picture underwater battles, advanced weaponry, and a hidden society on the brink of collapse1.

Ironclad: In medieval Europe, a band of warriors wearing experimental armor must defend their kingdom against an overwhelming enemy. Expect gritty battles, innovative weaponry, and personal sacrifices for the greater good1.

Chrono Clash: Time travelers from various eras are pitted against each other in a deadly game controlled by a mysterious force. Think historical clashes, paradoxes, and unexpected alliances across time1.

Shadow Boxer: A boxer gains the ability to become invisible and must use his powers to dismantle an underground fight club empire. Picture intense boxing matches, cloak-and-dagger tactics, and a quest for justice1.

The Sandstorm: A team of scientists and soldiers must survive a massive sandstorm that reveals an ancient predator stalking them. Imagine desert survival, shifting landscapes, and a creature straight out of nightmares1.

Neon Knights: In a neon-lit, dystopian city, a group of motorbike-riding knights protect the innocent from gangs and corrupt officials. Expect high-speed chases, neon-soaked visuals, and a fight for justice on two wheels1.

Blackout: An EMP blast leaves New York in darkness, and a group of survivors must navigate the chaos to restore power. Think urban survival, rival factions, and a race against time before society collapses1.

Vortex: A team of storm chasers gets trapped in a series of artificially created superstorms, uncovering a plot to weaponize weather. Picture tornadoes, lightning strikes, and a conspiracy that shakes the world1.

And there you have it—17 thrilling action film ideas! Feel free to mix and match, add your own twists, and create an adrenaline-pumping cinematic experience for your audience. Lights, camera, action! 🎬🔥

[kindlelovers]

🌊🌊AWAL-LANTIS THE MERFOLKS RETURN🌊🌊 by ✍Ebrahim Navsa

⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ #fiction

Humankind has all but exhausted all of its options to prevent the #catastrophic effects of #GlobalWarming. The #polar ice caps have melted, becoming one with the seas. #Glaciers have left gargantuan crevasses in their wake and daily #temperatures are at record highs.

Amid the #chaos that is unfolding, a mystical orb appears in the Sahara Desert. A rare breed of humanoid creatures that have laid dormant since the Permian Era comes to the fore. It is then that we are introduced to three incredibly different families from opposite ends of the #earth. Their struggles to overcome the capitalist trap that caused this #infernal #meltdown seems too much to bear.

What will this discovery in the #Sahara mean for our three families? More importantly, what does this all mean for humankind as a whole? Is this the beginning of the end? Are prophetic visions of Armageddon finally coming to fruition?

Only time will tell in Awal-Lantis: The Merfolks Return!

SciFi #Kindle

#humankind #kindle #kindlebooks #amazon #amazonbook #amazon kindle #amazonkindle #book #bookstagram #books #books & libraries #science #sahara #earth #chaos

[littlefreya]

Vanilla Milkshake

Summer: Henry and a long time friend hangout at their usual spot when things turn chaotic because of an innocent misunderstanding...

Prompted by:  

 Oooh Freyaaaa I just *need* some scene featuring Henry and ofc drinking milkshake. 

Pairing: Henry Cavill x Unamed OFC (no description of ethnicity or body type).

Word count: 1.7K

Warnings: RPF, major fluff, friends to lovers, sexual innuendo, mild seduction, sex talk, an unwanted boner, Henry being a boomer, Henry having a meltdown. 

*No permission is given for reposting my work, copying it, ideas or parts it and claiming it as your own.*

A/N: So, first thing first, thanks @agniavateira for quickly beta’ing my work! And of course thanks @the-soot-sprite for bouncing ideas with me and being an emotional support. Decided to go with friends for lovers because I live for that stuff. Also, I am aware that “Milkshake” can be interpreted in several ways but for the sake of the story I went with that particular reference. Divider by the lovely @firefly-graphics

Please comment and reblog if you enjoyed.  🖤

Title: Vanilla Milkshake

“I swear, this diner looks like Barbie had an orgasm all over the place.” A whimsical grin sliced between Henry’s marble cheeks. Eyeing the pastel-esque surroundings, he huffed scornfully and adjusted the cap over his nest of unruly curls. 

“Remind me again why we always meet here, young lady?”

Staring at the beastly man who barely managed to squeeze into the plastic-pink faux leather booth, she couldn’t help but chuckle. Henry carried himself with something that was both eloquent yet unmistakably feral, reminding her of a burly forest creature. Sturdy tree trunks stood for limbs, torso, and shoulders—the widths of icy mountains and a blanket of thick fur coated the entirety of his body, deeming him a dangerous bear. 

No wonder he preferred himself clean-shaven. The sharpened edge of a razor kept him a cut away from becoming ‘Henry the Barbarian’. 

Seeing him surrounded by pastel and sparkly fairy dust brought far more joy than she could ever imagine. The utter look of contempt gleamed on the surface of his shifty eyes. 

Oh, by God, how much he hated glitter!

“And what would you know about Barbie’s orgasms?” she teased with a crooked eyebrow and a comical suspicious glare. 

Readjusting his cap over the messy mane of chocolate curls, Henry offered a terrible wink and shrugged, “a gentleman never tells.”

Her fingers rapped on her thigh while she contemplated whether to allow this naughty joke slide, but then the urge to provoke him was far too great. After briefly chewing on the inside of her cheek, she broke into a wicked grin.

“Is that… like a role play you have with the missus? She’s Barbie, and you’re G.I.Joe? Because I kinda don’t want to hear about it, but then I kinda do.”

Henry’s smile gradually faded along with the playful glee in his eyes, his melancholic gaze dropping to the sparkly table. He slumped into a heavy sigh, “If by missus, you mean ‘Miss Hand’, then no… not really.”

Dumbfounded, she frowned at Henry with confusion when then it struck her; a sense of incredible embarrassment drained the blood from her head to her gut.

“Oh…”

“Yep.” Henry blurted and grabbed the menu, pretending to be incredibly interested in the kids’ meal options. 

Just in time to rescue them from a prolonged awkward silence, the waitress arrived with their order, serving Henry a hot cup of double espresso while she received a tall glass of a luscious vanilla milkshake. 

“Enjoy your drinks, guys!” the waitress smiled sweetly and kept her eyes glued to Henry as she walked away. But the gloss of the waitress’ flirtatious excitement was lost on him; drenched with greed, Henry’s blue sapphires were fixated on the generous scoops of ice cream and the dark chocolate swirls that decorated his companion’s dessert. 

“Henry, my eyes are up here!” she provoked and grabbed the straw between two fingers while throwing an amused glance at his simple cup of coffee. Henry followed her gaze and scoffed before raising the cup to his mouth and blowing to cool his drink.

The way his lips pursed together and his finger stroked the ceramic surface did not escape her observation. A sudden tingle swam down the length of her spine once it resonated in her mind that kind, charming, and beastly Henry was now single. Here they were, long time buddies, but now sitting together felt less comfortable than before. Her limbs felt like pins and needles while staring directly at his eyes was as risky as staring at the sun.  

“Cheers,” Henry mumbled and took a sip from his cup. 

Almost jolting in her seat, she stiffened and then grabbed her straw.

“Cheers.”

Giggles came from the other side of the diner. Among the retro gumball machines and rounded plastic bar stools, the waitress and a colleague leaned against the counter and stared at Henry, who turned his head for a brief moment and tipped his head.

Their giggles turned even louder.

She frowned. 

“So, have you been single for a while?” she heard herself asking with a rather urgent tone. Right away, a look of contrition crept on her face as she regretted her verbal onslaught and lack of sensitivity. 

Henry directed his gaze back to her and watched as she slowly sipped from the milkshake and then suckled the cream off her mouth. 

Absentmindedly, he licked his lips. “Since May. How about you, weren’t you with…?”

“No, ended, dodged a bullet.” she spat and pumped the straw up and down the thick beverage. “My milkshake brings all the boys… except it doesn't.” she sighed.

Henry frowned and shook his head with confusion. “What? You never told me you make your own milkshake. How come I never had some?” 

Her face abruptly froze, her eyes rounded with surprise before she snorted so loudly the waitresses stopped their whispering.

“Umm… Hen?” she called out, trying to hold herself from bursting into chuckles as her friend accidentally asked for a very sexual favour, “you honestly don’t know what ‘milkshake’ is slang for...?”

“Uh…”

“Omg, you’re such a boomer.” 

“No, I was born in ‘83! I’m a millennial. But please, indulge me.” he begged and crossed his arms together.

Clearing her throat loudly, she did her best to fight the wicked grin that stretched on her already painful cheeks and wrapped her fist around the straw. “So you know... how… certain male bodily fluids are sometimes white and creamy...? And when you perform a certain motion it’s like you’re shaking it…?”

Henry blinked and became silent. An unbidden rush of blood pooled at his groin as he watched her thumb graze over the tip of the straw and her fist pumping it into the smooth liquid in a slow, gentle motion. Wickedness glazed her eyes, but he tried to dismiss it as nothing but their usual playful banter; yet his adam’s apple bobbed up and down while his shoulder tensed at the oddly arousing sight of her performing a sinful act on a milkshake. 

There was an unmistakable stir in his cock and for once, he was thankful for narrow spaces as it hid his predicament.

Leaning forward, she opened her mouth and swirled her tongue around the straw. She went deliberately slow, making him watch while she playfully licked and suckled the tip until finally wrapping her lips around it and taking a generous sip.

Henry gawked utterly smitten, unaware that his jaw was nearly at the floor.

And to make things worse, she moaned—not too loud—but definitely enough to make his shaft harden more.

She wasn’t sure what stirred this whimsical boost of confidence, only that seeing the large, handsome man pale at her provocations made her feel like the most powerful woman on earth. She also gathered she’d regret it forever and a day once they’ll part ways, but it was too late for that now.

Gingerly she pulled back, though not before allowing a single drop of cream to trickle down the corner of her lips.

“Oops,” she smirked casually, wiping the cream with her fingertip and sucking it clean. 

“Please stop…” 

It was then when she noticed that Henry’s playful mien was all but gone. Far from amused, he glowered with a clenched jaw. “If you’re going to keep doing that, I’ll have to leave,” he stated matter-of-factly. 

A rush of panic made her freeze in her spot, the same needles that pricked her skin were now setting jolts of electric bursts. “I’m so sorry, I crossed the line,” she said and covered her mouth with shame, “did I offend you? Do you want me to leave?”

“What? No, no, not at all.” Henry’s voice softened right away, and he reached a hand in the air, as if trying to stop her from leaving. The last thing he wanted now is for her to think he is angry with her. If anything, he wished they could spend more time together, not because of his obvious arousal, but because for the first time in a long while, he was having fun.

Still, she looked at him so utterly distraught.  

“Then…?” 

Henry scanned the diner as if trying to make sure no one was staring or taking any photo and then shifted in his seat uncomfortably. His eyes altered between his spread thighs and her several times, trying to signal toward his… trouble.

“Oh...” she gaped. 

An odd sense of pride began to permeate her chest, battling over the burning embarrassment that flamed up her neck and cheeks. At this point, she wasn’t sure what she was supposed to feel, only that it was definitely the most awkward hangout they had to date. 

Problem was, she never knew when to shut up. 

“Is little Henry hungry?”

Hearing those words, his brows dropped to an irritated sulk. “There is nothing little about it.”

“Ha! Prove it!”

It was as if the entire diner and perhaps the world fell into silence. Had the clatter of the dishes being washed in the back kitchen not rung their ears, she would have thought she grew suddenly deaf. 

“I didn’t mean it… sorry, I’ll stop,” she mumbled slowly and pressed her fingers to her mouth while shaking her head at her stupid behaviour. That was it, this was to be the last afternoon she would ever hang out with Henry and right now, she couldn’t even bring herself to look at him.

Henry chewed onto the inside of his cheeks, trying to stop the words that came faster than his thoughts.

“You didn’t?... Because I’ll definitely be up for proving...”

She blinked at his words and tilted her head, hoping that he won’t notice the wild tremors that shook her limbs, “What was that?” 

“I... yes? No?...I… fuck!” 

Henry lowered his head and slapped his palms across his face, rubbing back and forth with an utter meltdown while mumbling, “Forgive me,” a couple of times. He couldn’t care less of what the waitresses or whoever was watching would think of him; all he cared about was to make her feel comfortable around him again and maybe… even make her like him?

“Henry?”

Soft and warm her voice called to him, slowly pulling him from his anguish like a sailor being rescued from a sunken ship. His blue sapphires shone, an ocean of confusion and anxiety still pooling within while he peered back at her face that was now smiling at him a mixture of comfort and exhilaration. 

“Would you like some of my milkshake?”

#henry cavill #henry cavill rpf #henry cavill x reader #henry cavill x ofc #henry cavill fanfiction

[sevlgi]

bubblegum pop

requested: no

group: twice

pairing: sana x fem!reader

genre: fluff

contents: rich girl!sana, college!au, cashier!reader.

warnings: none

synopsis: An unfortunately hostile encounter with the school’s sweetest rich girl might just lead to more than you ever expected.

a/n: inspired by @pearicot​‘s mean girl rosie series! (by the way, i’m not trying to feed into the “dumb sana” stereotype with this; i just thought that her personality fitted the character i was trying to achieve! does anyone wanna request continuations or scenarios in this universe 👀

word count: 3.3k

Something about Mondays the week of finals always got you in a bad mood, especially when you had  to work double shifts at the same stupid ice cream shop you’d worked at for the past 2 years of college. 

So maybe, just maybe, there was reasoning behind you snapping at the love of your life during your first meeting.

Actually, there really, really wasn’t.

There were plenty of mean girls on campus who you wouldn’t regret yelling at whatsoever, but you just happened to blow up at one of the considerably nicer rich girls.

Minatozaki Sana didn’t mean anything bad when she innocently held out a hundred dollar bill to pay for a $5 ice cream. She didn’t mean to seem pretentious, nor did she mean to mock you and your minimum-wage job, but you just so happened to take it that way.

“Really? You have to rub it in my face like that?”

Sana stared at you, the money that she held out wavering in the ear. “Sorry?”

Pinching the space between your eyebrows, you huffed out an exasperated breath. Luckily, there was no one else in the shop about to witness the stupidest meltdown of your life. “You think I don’t know that I’m poor? It’s five dollars for God’s sake, no need to bring out the big guns. Oh, or are you doing this to avoid seeming more pretentious with your daddy’s black card?”

The brunette’s hand retreated quickly, the heels of her Louboutins clacking softly against the pastel-toned linoleum of the ice cream shop. Fuck, you hated that linoleum. “I... I didn’t mean any of that, I swear! Um, is there an ATM near here?”

Once again, the girl meant well, and you took it badly. You scoffed, glaring disbelievingly at her. Some part of you was screaming out that you were putting your entire job at stake, and your morals as well, but you disregarded any common sense remaining in your brain. “An ATM for 5 bucks? Dude, just don’t.” Dipping your hand into the tip jar, you scrounged out a lousy crumpled bill and threw it down on the counter, shoving the bubblegum-flavored sweet to Sana. “Okay? Now get out, I don’t want to see your privileged ass anywhere near here.”

The dense gray clouding your mind somehow missed the hurt expression on the girl’s face as the staff door swung open. Wendy’s hands, though gentle on your shoulders, shoved you behind her with surprising force. “I am so sorry, Sana, it’s finals week. Surely you can understand? The ice cream’s on the house.”

“No, of course it’s okay!” Sana sounded genuine enough, that was for sure; you caught her glancing worriedly at you a couple times, nothing malicious whatsoever in her eyes. “I can pay though, are you sure?”

“I’m sure. See you in class,” Wendy called out, smiling all the while until the girl disappeared into the Lamborghini parked by the curb. As soon as that happened, she turned back to you, concern tugging at the corner of her lips. “Y/N...”

“Yeah, I know,” you mumbled as you crossed your arms. Already, you were regretting what you said, though you were far too stubborn to actually apologize on the spot. “No arguing with customers about capitalism. Sorry, Wendy.”

The girl bit her lip, scanning the store to make sure that there wasn’t about to be an influx of customers. Usually she enjoyed working with you; you just had absolutely terrible mood swings sometimes, and those days were nothing short of hellish for her to deal with. “Just head home. Focus on your finals, and come back next week. Okay?”

You hesitated to agree, knowing that you needed the money, but the grim expression on Wendy’s face told you that you had no other option. “Okay. Sorry.”

As you snatched up your stuff and shoved the door to the street open, you missed the sight of Sana watching you through the tinted windows of her 6-figure car.

“Really? Sana?”

“I know,” you groaned, biting down on the plastic spoon in your mouth. The flavor of the month (the only one you could eat completely free) lingered unpleasantly on your tongue, the taste of it oddly salty. “She was so nice about it, too.”

Jeongyeon and Mina exchanged glances, not touching their respective cups of “Ocean Caramel” either. It was extremely kind of them to come and accompany you on the slow days, both of them even offering to suffer through the gross ice cream with you.  “If it was Park Roseanne I might understand, but Sana,” Mina winced. Jeongyeon nodded in agreement; after all, everyone on campus knew about the reputations of Roseanne and Sana.

On one end of the “rich girl” spectrum, Roseanne was quite possibly the bitchiest one of all. She and her Bugatti Veyron, the college upgrade from her old McLaren, absolutely weren’t to be messed with. People who went to high school with you often told story of the G Wagon she smashed, the locker room she lit on fire, and so many other horror tales of a spoiled girl gone wild. You were sure that had you gone off on her, even Wendy wouldn’t have stopped you.

But on the other end, Sana was notoriously kind. Sure, her family raked in an income close to that of the other girl’s, and her wardrobe was just as expensive, but she made a point to donate to charities every time she went shopping. She tipped in the hundreds, and she didn’t ever ask for her designer clothes back when she lent them to strangers. She paid any dinner bill in full when she was there, and sometimes even when she wasn’t invited.

No one was entirely sure about the relationship between the two, but Roseanne seemed to hate Sana more than she did other people. The two fought publicly occasionally, but Sana’s kind heart made it so that even Roseanne couldn’t carry a fight very long. She didn’t respond to insults, it seemed, nor did she ever seem to actually take them personally. 

Stirring her half-melted soup, Mina continued, “Hopefully she doesn’t hold it against you. She doesn’t seem like the type, but...”

Jeongyeon shook her head, opening her mouth just as the doorbell rang. You froze when you looked up to find a designer-dressed bombshell, a sweet smile outlined in Chanel Rouge Allure. She looked completely out of place amidst tired college kids spending their last paycheck on ice cream, white gauzy sleeves and blue dress shimmering under LED lights. If you were being honest, you’d say that she was the most beautiful person you’d seen in your life, but you were always well versed in lying to yourself. “Y/N, you better go.”

“Why?” you whined, pouting at your much more responsible friends. They ignored your puppy face, though; Jihyo was usually the only one you could sway, Momo sometimes if she was feeling merciful. “I’m on break.”

“Only when there’s no customers,” Mina argued, shoving you to stand. Jeongyeon smiled at you, waving you away. “Go, and don’t screw it up this time.”

You forced a smile onto your face when you reached the counter, bowing and adjusting your name tag. “Hi, what can I help you with today?”

“Hi, Y/N!” Sana grinned, bowing back. The fact that she remembered your name only made your guilt worse; if she forgot who you were, you could at least pretend that she didn’t remember the incident at all. “Ah, could I have the same thing as last time? Bubblegum Pop ice cream, on a sugar cone today. 3 scoops?”

Nodding, you moved to open the case, avoiding the girl’s gaze as you did. “Of course.” She was quiet at that, staring at the ceiling so as not to rush you. Without prompting, you blurted, “I’m... I’m really sorry about last week, by the way. I don’t know what I was thinking, blowing up at you like that.”

“Oh, no, it’s okay!” she protested, waving a manicured hand in the air. “I promise I understand you. We all have our bad days.”

You wanted to apologize again, if just to assuage your guilt, but you held off on it, joking, “How do you deal with them? Yell at Gucci assistants?”

Sana looked honestly offended as she accepted the cone proffered to her, eyes widening in shock. “I’ve never done that, I swear! Besides, I don’t like Gucci much.”

A light smile quirking at the corners of your lips, you handed the receipt to her as well. She didn’t ask for it, probably not caring about the measly price or having the space for it in her tiny bag, but took it anyway. “I’m sure you don’t. Your total is $5.23, will that be cash or card?”

“Cash!” She held out a 10 dollar bill, pride shining behind that gorgeous face as you raised your eyebrows in surprise. When your hands brush together, you were reminded of how much better she was than you, how you probably weren’t worthy at all to be touching her with your shop-issued baseball cap and grimy apron. But Sana doesn’t seem to mind, still smiling that airy smile at you and not moving away. She broke your stare by offering, “I don’t want to sound rude, but keep the change.”

“Not rude at all,” you fully laughed that time, dishing out the remainder to stuff in your tip jar. You still felt terrible that she felt the need to apologize about such a normal comment, asking, “Are you sure it’s okay? You can have this one free too, if it makes up for me shouting at you...”

Sana shook her head, sugary light pink already mixing into her lipstick. She walked away, still waving with that gorgeous smile on her face. “It’s okay. I’ll see you soon, Y/N, you look really pretty today!”

Turning back to your friends, you whispered, “Damn. She’s really nice.”

You planned on spending your one day off from school and work cozied up with a good book and your favorite hot drink, but you supposed that getting into a fight with Park Roseanne wasn’t the worst way to go either.

As soon as you entered campus, book in hand and blasting music in your earbuds, you found a crowd of at least 3 dozen people right in front of the library building. It was unlike you to butt into others’ business, especially when it might lead to a ruined day, but Roseanne’s voice carried loud over the hushed whispers of everyone else. “--huh, Sana?”

It wasn’t any of your business, but for some reason, Roseanne’s tone when saying Sana’s name angered you immensely. Frowning, you shouldered your way through the crowd. The closer you got to the center, the more expensive the clothing that brushed against your own rough jean jacket was, cotton and leather becoming silk and velvet. You originally planned to just fit in with the other spectators, but with a shove at the small of your back, you were thrust into the center too.

To your shock, Sana’s eyes were red and shining with tears, the tip of her nose cherry-colored as well. Her head was almost bowed as she stared at her shoes, but she looked up to you when you almost bumped into her. You stuttered out, “H-hey. What’s going on?”

Instead of an explanation from the Japanese girl, though, your gaze was drawn to the blonde across the courtyard. “Didn’t you hear? Little Miss Perfect here got broken up with,” Roseanne scoffed, an infuriating smirk on her perfect face as she tilted her head at you. “By a future CEO, no less. I guess she isn’t a gold-digger, or maybe there’s some other reason that he didn’t want her anymore.”

Your hand shot out to protect Sana, a scowl making its way onto your own face. “Excuse me? From my standpoint, any future CEO is still way outta her league, so forgive me for doubting that he’s the one who didn’t want her. You’re the one dating someone who makes a tenth of what you do.”

Roseanne rolled her eyes, lips thinning. “Don’t talk about my girlfriend like that, Y/L/N, or you’ve got another thing coming. There aren’t many lesbians in this damn school.”

“You know me, don’t you?” Sana’s voice was wavering as she spoke, but it was strong enough to echo in the courtyard. To your surprise (and somewhat satisfaction), the blonde  girl’s eyes widened as Sana stood forward, her lips jutting forward. “That’s why I’m not dating him anymore. I like girls, too.”

Somehow, you’d never expected that Sana was attracted to girls, but it made perfect sense. An irrational part of you wanted to cheer, but instead, you forced yourself to speak.

“R-right.” You continued to glare at Roseanne, who finally seemed to be speechless. “Yeah, so how come you’re tearing Sana down? We should be supporting each other, but you’re being so rude to someone so kind, and that says all I need to know about you.”

Reaching out, you latched onto Sana’s upper arm and pulled her out of the circle, people parting to let the two of you through as Roseanne wasn’t able to conjure up something to respond with. You didn’t stop walking until there was only silence surrounding you under the shade of a swaying tree, finally stopping to let the girl sit. “Are you okay?” you asked, brow furrowed as you knelt to be mostly face-level with her.

Somehow, there was a smile on her face; a slightly snotty smile, but nonetheless the most beautiful one you’d ever seen in your life. You ignored the uncomfortable leap of your heart when you reached out to take her hands into your own, somehow forgetting about the hostility you’d felt towards her from the beginning. “You- you stood up for me.”

“Yeah. I did, I guess,” you shrugged, smiling slightly. “I’m sure that was rough, though, to come out. How’re you feeling?”

“Honestly, much better,” Sana sighed. She leaned back, fingers curling slightly around yours as the afternoon sun shone golden brown in the locks of hair spread out on her shoulders. “It was good to get it off my chest. I didn’t even know you were into girls, you know.”

Reaching up to scratch your head, you chuckled, “Well, I am, if it makes you feel any better. What happened between the two of you, by the way? She seems to hate you so much.”

The girl laughed, as bubbly and airy as her regular voice. “I may or may not have dated her girlfriend before. But it was a long time ago, and I’m still friends with her! Roseanne just can’t forgive me.”

You feigned shock, swatting at her arm. “How terrible of you! I’m so disappointed.”

You were stuck simply smiling at each other for a good minute or so before you looked away, picking at your shoelace for something to do. “So. Uh, Roseanne knew the whole time?”

“She did,” Sana confirmed, nodding. “She just never talked about it.”

“Well, it’s good to know that she isn’t the only other one in the school with me,” you sighed, sitting back on your heels.

Sana lurched back forward, hands clasping together at her chest. “Then we should celebrate! We can go shopping or something, and we can just be happy that we aren’t alone anymore.”

It suddenly struck you how quickly you could change the girl’s entire outlook, a smile coming onto her face with no effort from you whatsoever. But even more surprising, you smiled even larger than she did just looking at her. 

Laughing, you sat back on your heels and shook your head lightly. Seeming to take it as a rejection, Sana’s eyes widened. “Oh, only if you want to, of course! We can go wherever you want, we don’t even have to go shopping if you don’t want to!”

“No, we can go shopping,” you answered, reaching back over to squeeze her hand and pulling her up with you when you stood. “Come on, then. Let’s go celebrate.”

Sana wasn’t a great driver, but you didn’t expect much else. You were practically sick to your stomach by the time that you reached the mall, face green as you swayed out of the car.

“Ah, Y/N, I’m sorry!” Her hands rubbed lightly at your back as you squatted in the parking lot, fist held tight to your mouth. It wasn’t like you were actually going to throw up, but you didn’t want to risk ruining the girl’s expensive shoes. “I’ll let you drive next time.”

Next time? you wanted to ask. But you managed to stand, nodding quickly to ease Sana’s worry. “Yeah. It’s fine, I’m fine. Should we go?”

Immediately, she latched onto your hand, swinging between the two of you as she started to rush forward. “H-hey, lock your car first!”

Sana had unsurprisingly expensive tastes, but also surprisingly understated ones. She was fun to shop with, that was for sure- she loved to offer you clothes and also to offer to pay for them, but you didn’t necessarily hate a pretty girl telling you you’d look gorgeous in a certain sparkly dress.

She didn’t do any of the typical stuck-up things you expected her to- Sana carried her own bags, and she never forced you to follow her instead of doing what you wanted to. She did like to try on outfits and show them to you, but that could be ignored when it was just another opportunity for you to stare at her.

Eventually, you ended up having ice cream at one of the stores in the mall. You balked at the price, but Sana swiped her credit card without hesitation. “I have to admit, this bubblegum doesn’t taste as good as yours,” she pouted.

Chuckling, you savored the rich flavor on your own tongue. “You should’ve picked an expensive flavor then. Vanilla and chocolate are always good in these kinds of stores.”

“You know a lot about ‘these kinds of stores’ for someone who claims to be poor,” she teased, eyes widening as soon as the words slipped out of her mouth. “Oh, I’m sorry! I didn’t mean-”

“Nah, it’s fine,” you smiled, leaning on your palm. “I’m good with it, since we’re friends now.”

Sana grinned at that, her eyes curving charmingly. “We’re friends? Most people don’t want to be friends with me, I’m really glad you’re willing to.”

“Why wouldn’t they?”

Looking down for once, the girl mumbled, “They say I’m dumb. You know that everyone says I’m nice, but they also think I’m dumb because I pay for everything. I just want to be kind, but no one takes me seriously.”

A wave of guilt rushed over you for previously feeding into the stereotype. The more time you spent with Sana, the more you realized that she was as brilliant as any other, and far more kind. “Well, that’s stupid. You are kind, Sana, and you’re amazing. I’m lucky to be your friend.”

She clasped your hand over the table, soft skin warm over yours, pink flushing in her pale cheeks. “Thank you, Y/N. You know, this is the best time I’ve had in a while. My boyfriend didn’t even listen to me this well,” she laughed.

Despite the fact that she treated it as a joke, you felt horrible. She was all too used to thinking the worst about herself and not believing that she was worth any better, and that was the worst possible thing you could imagine for a girl with a heart of gold. Jabbing your spoon into the remaining ice cream, you blurted, “Then go on a date with me. A proper one, not just a normal hangout like this.”

Sana instantly blushed, looking down as if it’d hide her face at all. But she missed the heat that rose to your cheeks too, the nervous biting of your lip as you waited for a response. “I would love nothing more,” she smiled, her eyes shining brilliantly. “And I can’t wait.”

#twice #twice sana #sana #minatozaki sana #sana x reader #sana imagines #sana scenarios #sana icons #girl group imagines #girl group scenarios #girl group fanfic #twice fanfic #twice icons #twice imagines #twice x reader #twice scenarios #twice reactions #twice incorrect quotes #twice hcs #twice minatozaki sana

[kaimelia]

Omggg I loved your fic “Overjoyed” I was wondering if you could do a part 2 where Amelia is really hormonal and it’s kinda funny? I love your writing so much!! Stay safe

overjoyed (pt 2)

a/n: hi! i also combined this with the like 4 other requests and ideas for a part 2, so if you sent one, it’s somewhere in here😅

--------------------------

"Hey, is everything okay?" Link had walked into the kitchen to see Amelia sitting on the floor, her hands cradling her bump as she cried softly. He kneeled down in front of her. "Amelia, what happened?"

"We're out of ice cream," she sniffled, wiping her eyes. Link stifled a laugh and bit the inside of his cheek.

"Do you want me to go out and get some?" She nodded slowly, taking a deep breath. "Alright. I'll be back soon, okay?"

"Okay." He kissed her forehead quickly, running his hand down her head before grabbing the car keys and rushing out of the apartment. Amelia slowly stood, cursing her shifted centre of gravity as she steadied herself on the kitchen island. She walked into the bathroom to see her eyes puffy, taking a moment to laugh at her crying over ice cream. "God, you two are already making Mommy's life difficult," she muttered, glancing down at her stomach.

Before finding out she was pregnant with twins, she had wanted to keep her pregnancy secret for as long as possible. But, with two babies occupying her womb, it wasn't quite possible to keep it hidden for very long. Every symptom she experienced was on full blast, bursting into tears at the slightest inconvenience, constant nausea, every inch of her body always aching and sore. Now, 17 weeks along, she was already forced to start wearing maternity clothes to fit around her stomach.

The front door opened again soon later, Link rushing through with a bag of different ice cream flavors. He pouted his lip out at the sight of her, opening her arms to embrace her. "Hormones are hitting me really bad," she muttered into his chest, sighing. "I'm sorry for being super dramatic about everything."

"Hey, you're allowed to be. I'm just glad that nothing bad was actually happening."

"It was a full-blown crisis. We didn't have ice cream." She stepped away, opening the bag and pulling out a carton of peanut butter flavored ice cream. "Thank you." He grinned as she pulled a spoon out from the drawer, settling on the couch and adjusting the pillow behind her.

"Better?"

"Much better."

--------------------------

"Who would've thought that being pregnant with twins would make me so much more exhausted," Amelia muttered, settling herself between Link's legs, leaning her weight against his chest. He locked his hands under her bump, his thumb caressing the bottom of her swollen stomach. "My back hurts so much." He moved his hands to her shoulders, massaging the tension she was holding. "Mm, thank you."

"You know, if you spent less time on your feet," he muttered, kissing her neck.

"I need to work. The odds are that I'll be bedridden before they're born, and it'll take me even longer to recover. If I stop working now, I'll go insane."

"I know, but this is different than your last pregnancy. Carina said we wanna get the twins to at least 32 weeks." Amelia sighed, leaning her head back on his shoulder.

"That's another month," she groaned, rolling her head to the side. "I can't not work for the next month, Link."

"I just think you should cut back a bit. I will too in solidarity if you want."

--------------------------

"Amelia, go to sleep," Link groaned into his pillow, having been woken up by his girlfriend's shifting around.

"I can't get comfortable. My stupid bump keeps getting in the way." He reached his hand out in the dark, searching for her. His hand rested on her knee.

"What're you worried about?" Her face softened at his ability to sense her nerves, and Link sat up and turned on the bedside lamp.

"I don't know how I'm going to handle two newborns," she confessed, her fingers drumming on top of her bump. "Whenever Scout would get super upset, it was just so overwhelming. And having two newborns? There are going to be so many meltdowns, all of the time." He moved his hand up to wrap around the side of her head, his fingers playing with strands of her hair as he pushed her head down to rest against his shoulder.

"Well, this time, we don't have three other kids to look at. And, we're not in a global pandemic where no one can come to help or visit us, so I think it will be easier in some ways." Amelia exhaled heavily, scooching closer to his body. "Plus, I kinda know what I'm doing this time, so I won't be as useless."

"You weren't useless," she laughed, finally cracking a smile. "You did your best, and once you found what worked, you stuck with it. And now you're a kick-ass dad." Link hummed and pulled the comforter up.

"This kick-ass dad thinks that this kick-ass mom," he poked her shoulder, "needs to get some sleep. Because otherwise, those two babies are gonna kick your ass tomorrow." He grinned at his joke, reaching over to turn the lamp off.

"I'm not tired," she groaned, laying down with him.

"At least close your eyes and try to sleep." Link placed his arm over her body, his hand settling on top of her stomach. "Goodnight, Amelia. I love you," he whispered, kissing the back of her head.

"Night," Amelia muttered sleepily, intertwining her hand with Link's before quickly falling asleep.

"And someone said they weren't tired."

--------------------------

"I don't think I can stand up," Amelia groaned, rocking back and forth in the fancy rocking chair she and Link had purchased. He looked up at her and smiled, looking back down at the pile of wood and screws below him. "You're sure you don't want help?"

"You just said you can't get up; I don't think you would be much help here."

"I meant calling Winston or something. You've been at this for an hour, and you have a whole other crib to put together." Link shrugged, flipping the instruction page. Amelia locked her hands under her baby bump, leaning into the soft cushion of the chair. "We're gonna have to move to a bigger house someday. They can't share a room forever."

"We've got a few years, at least," he muttered, standing up the frame he finished. "Okay, give me a list of everything we need to do before the babies get here." Amelia sighed, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear and thinking.

"Finish the cribs, wash all of their clothes, put everything away, and get the hospital bag ready."

"Cribs will be done in an hour; I've got the hang of this now." She grinned, digging her feet into the fuzzy carpet on the floor. "And, we can do the laundry tomorrow as well as the bag."

"What did I do to deserve you?" Link laughed, shaking his head in amusement.

"Made me the happiest man alive," he answered honestly, setting down the screwdriver beside his legs. "Now, can you kick that piece of wood towards me?"

--------------------------

"And, after twenty-seven hours of labor," Link brushed his hand through his hair, "we have two healthy, perfect little babies." Maggie stood up and clapped her hands, wrapping her arms around Link.

"Oh, I'm so happy!" She squealed, stepping back to let Meredith hug him. "When can we see them?"

"In a little bit. Amelia's completely passed out, for a good reason," he laughed, rubbing under his eye. "And Hayes took them to do all of their newborn tests. But, I have plenty of pictures." He pulled out his phone and handed it to the women in front of him, watching as they cooed over the baby pictures.

"A boy and a girl," Meredith grinned, passing the phone to Maggie. "They're adorable."

"Do they have names?" He shook his head.

"We talked a little before they were born, but just as I was about to bring it up, Amelia fell asleep, so it'll have to wait a few hours."

--------------------------

"Look who's awake," Link whispered, running his hand over his girlfriend's hair. "How're you feeling?"

"I feel fine, just the general pain of pushing two babies out of my vagina." She grinned. "Where are my babies?"

"Meredith and Maggie are with them on the peds floor so that you could sleep a little longer. Twenty-seven hours of labor is no joke," he took her hand, watching her eyelids struggle to remain open. "I'm exhausted. And, I wasn't the one pushing out babies."

"I'm just glad you were here this time," she mumbled, shifting to lay on her side. "It was much better having you here."

"I'm glad I was too," he kissed her hand before dropping it and pulling out his phone. "I'll get them to bring the babies back down." He sent a quick text, looking back to see her eyes closing. "Amelia?"

"I'm awake," she groaned, sitting up in the hospital bed. The door was pushed open a minute later, and Meredith and Maggie walked through with the twins in their arms.

"Hey, mommy," Meredith whispered, placing her niece into Amelia's arms. "You made some pretty adorable babies." The neurosurgeon grinned, brushing her finger over her daughter's cheek as Link took their son, lightly bouncing up and down. "Are they worth the twenty-seven hours of labor? That sounds like torture." Amelia shrugged, not taking her eyes off the baby in her arms.

"Absolutely worth it. Although, I don't know if I've got more in me for another baby," she joked, removing the pink cap to reveal a head full of thin blonde hair on their daughter's head.

"They're not even three hours old, and you're already thinking about the next one?" Link questioned in disbelief, moving to stand next to the bed. "I think these two and Scout will have us in over our heads."

"I'll come over and cuddle them whenever you want," Maggie smiled, watching Link sit next to Amelia on the bed. "But, I'm sure that you guys will kill it."

"Maybe that's not the phrase we should use when talking about taking care of babies," Meredith muttered, crossing her arms over her chest. "But, Maggie's right. You two are the most competent parents I know. Managed to not screw my kids up too badly, so obviously, you're doing something right." Amelia looked up and beamed widely.

"We'll still take all of the help you offer. Even kick-ass parents need a break," she whispered, bringing her daughter up to kiss her forehead. "How did our lives get so perfect?"

"I have no idea," Link muttered. "Absolutely no idea."

#amelia shepherd #amelink #amelia x link #amelink fanfiction #atticus lincoln #grey's anatomy #amelink fanfic #greys abc #greys fanfic #scout lincoln #meredith grey #maggie pierce #my fics

[pollenat]

NU’EST and 5 ways to say I love you

➛ Requested by a super sweet anon!

ARON

The night outside. You’re watching the dark sky through a window of his car. Aron’s hand rests next to your thigh, palm leaning against the knob of gear shift. He hums along with the radio, eyes gazing at you every now and then. You only act oblivious. There’s a wandering thought that perhaps he wants to say something and though you wait, he never does, just stares. As if enchanted, but by what exactly, you cannot figure out.

A bite on your cheek. It takes you by surprise, freezing in place, because who would even think to do so? Surely not Aaron? And yet, he’s the one visible in your peripheral vision. Absurd. He’s not the one to do things as drastic, even in the privacy of his own four walls. The pain doesn’t strike you, but the tickling in your throat, an effect of holding back laughter, does turn more unbearable with each passing second. Until you can’t keep it locked any longer, and the force pulls you out of Aaron’s already weak hold.

Running a few meters to catch up to him. Aaron didn’t stop along with you, but you quickly realize it wasn’t on purpose. As your hand grabs his elbow, he turns to watch you with innocent curiosity. He doesn’t mention the moment. And though you want to scold him - leaving your s/o behind is a no joking matter - the expression on his face makes you drop the topic. Aaron continues chattering about his day, so you listen, holding onto his arm just in case he doesn’t notice your departure next time.

Awkward glances. Aaron knows it’s not right, or at least how it should be, but he’s too confused to put thoughts into words. You, on the other hand, know he wants the best, which should be enough. The key word being should. When you’re brave enough, you return one of the stares. His first instinct is to retract, but just a look away has him thinking that perhaps it’s not the best course of action. Without a second glance, he reaches forward, to open the space by his side, just in case you decide you need it.

The lack of him in general. Neither your phone, nor your senses are graced by his presence. It’s as if he has never existed, and you’re close to believing that yes, indeed, he’s just a product of your vivid imagination. That he’s someone you’ve once dreamed about, or just a silhouette from family pictures, whose face is known, but ghostly. Days pass with you suffering from a heartache and that’s all he is - a ghost.

JR

Irritating pain in your eyes. The hour is late. The day’s effect is catching up to you. It’s too difficult to keep your eyes open. Jonghyun says something, but your clouded mind doesn’t catch a word. When you ask him to repeat, he just releases a good-natured laugh, as if your tragic state was a laughing matter. It’s his fault, after all. He’s the person responsible for keeping you awake past midnight. And even his adorable reaction to your sleepiness won’t correct his wrongdoings.

Holding his baseball cap, stunned that it’s the only thing of his you have that still smells of him. It’s weird to take comfort in something so... uncommon, but you’re too desperate at this point. The painful knowledge of him being away has you resorting to the strangest. Before the cap, you clung to his favorite yogurt. Before it, there was the shampoo he always uses. And though nothing has lasting effect, the moment of breathing in a familiar smell clears your head. Just a few seconds, but painless seconds.

Fingertips on your closed eyelids. Pressure on the lashes. Breath on your cheek. Coldness by your legs. Skin skimming against skin, only to disappear in a second. The hour must be late. A little concerned, you finally open your eyes. Jonghyun sighs in surprise. Like a deer caught in headlights, he’s frozen in his spot. Guilt strikes his features. He’s sure his carelessness woke you up. But who would be mad at the sweetest guy alive? If he can’t sleep, then so can’t you. That’s the verdict.

Small words of appreciation, you didn’t realize you needed. They always take you by surprise. One would think them an ambush, meant to bring Jonghyun a gift in the form of your embarrassed smile. But just a mention of his possible hidden intentions makes his face harden. How can you assume such vile things about his motives? All the compliments are genuine! Your embarrassment is just a bonus!

Being avoided. Though you lean forward to embrace him, Jonghyun turns away. His face is unreadable, empty. Your hands manage to lock around his waist in time, but they’re obviously unwelcome there. As if you were a virus, you’re rejected. Jonghyun stands stiff in your weak hold, wordless and emotionless. It hurts. It really hurts. You’re left with no other option, but to let him go. What he wants at the moment is not you. The only right course of action is to accept it.

BAEKHO

The plush of his lips on the back of your neck. It’s in a way restless - Dongho shows no sign of wanting to stop. His legs are settled around your hips, locking you in the embrace. There are things you should be doing instead of letting him lull you into sweet comfort, but he’s never once backed from an ambush. You may be trying to work, yet you do want him to take your mind off of the stress as well.

His silence. Mouth occupied by pancakes, Dongho doesn’t speak. Every then and now he just graces you with small noises of content. Their appearance is a spark of electricity, opening your mouth in a smile. Though your work doesn’t end at making him comfort food, the progress in lifting his spirits is still a success that should be celebrated. And so, you gift yourself with the continuation of staring at Dongho’s passionate eating habits. He’s too taken by the pancakes to notice it.

Fingernails scratching stitches on your jeans. He’s nervous, this much is obvious. The empty look on his face tells you that the thoughts have taken Dongho miles away, and none of your words will be registered by his mind. The scratching turns weaker for a moment as he glances at the clock. Its ticking seems to irritate him only more. Finally, you cover his hand with your own and Dongho smiles a little. You presence alone won’t save him, but it does give him a little bit of warmth and assurance, that at the end of the day, he’s not alone.

A little yelp of excitement, so inaccurate for a man built like Dongho. Though he’s more of a big bad wolf appearance-wise, his smiling face reminds you of a baby. He dances around the room, eyes bright and happy. None of the questioning looks you shoot his way are enough to grant you an answer. Dongho ignores your stares, until he finally grabs your hands to pull you along. For a long time he doesn’t explain what the hell is going on, but when he’s acting like that, you cannot just stop him. The questions have to wait.

How his fists tighten when he’s mad. Dongho doesn’t think about hiding them, he’s too taken by the all-consuming anger. It’s a normal thing to get frustrated, but somehow, seeing him mad is... different? You’re not used to the paling insides of his fingers, an effect of limited blood flow. You know he won’t do anything, it’s just his way of offloading, and yet, somewhere deep in your mind, you’re scared. Terrified, but of the possibility it will stay this way between you and him.

MINHYUN

Reaching for his hand when the moment feels vile. Minhyun, though not a fan of publicly displayed affection, doesn’t take his fingers away. They interlock with yours, grip quick to tighten in a comforting manner. The world instantly seems a little bit more bearable. As soon as you turn to look at him, Minhyun’s gaze meets yours. There’s a question whether you’re fine. Not wanting to have him worried any longer, you nod yes. With him, you’ll be fine.

The coldness of an ice pack. Your momentary lack of focus costed you pain and tears. Now Minhyun, taking the role of a house nurse, stands behind you, holding a bundle of ice cubes and using the moment to scold you. Because how dare you hurt yourself when he’s just a few steps away? How dare you not give him a chance to save you from the dangers of living? How dare you roll your eyes when he’s teaching you an important lesson of self-preservation? And don’t even think about whining at the coldness, it’s meant to freeze!

A laptop you have completely forgotten. Though Minhyun’s attention is all on you and he’s reaching lower your back, the sound of crashing electronics forces you apart. You take a look at his swollen lips before turning to search for the source of all commotion. Minhyun’s hands fall on your thighs, still not ready to let go completely. He doesn’t seem concerned about the noise. If anything, it’s the growing distance between the two of you that he’s wary of. When you sheepishly tell him that it’s his laptop that fell, he just grunts and then pulls you back.

Washing your hands when he encircles you from behind. Minhyun’s head rests on your shoulder, meanwhile his fingers cover yours under the stream of running water. He doesn’t speak. There’s no need, you know he expects you to wash his hands as well. It’s a little thing you have a habit of spoiling him with. As you silently comply, Minhyun laughs, chest trembling against your back. Though you can’t see, you can feel his gaze on your profile.

A heavy gaze. One that pushes you down, until you’re flat against the ground, trembling in fear, because you’re its object. Minhyun won’t say a word, but he watches, as if he was feeding on your terror. But how can someone be vicious enough to put a boot on your lungs and remain silent, indifferent to the tortures they’re putting you through? Of course, he’s awaiting a grand apology, but even tired, breathless from the anger olympics, you don’t want to relent. Not when he’s not free of his own wrongdoings.

REN

The stark shape of his nose, digging itself into your cheek. Minki is trying to get a reaction out of you, but while doing so, he only causes you a meltdown inside. Instead of a grimace, he’s rewarded with a sweet smile. Minki wants to push your buttons more, the soul of a troublemaker is chewing his ear off, and yet he gives up. It doesn’t go past your attention - his defeated, but genuine smile is a sight to behold.

Delicate skin you are allowed to touch. Minki’s facing away from you, either moaning or whining, depending on what nerve you’re currently crunching. Few times he tries to swat your hands away, but you’re not that easily scared by his threats. They can’t be serious. When he makes a sarcastic comment about your great massage techniques, you act dumb and dig where it hurts him. Minki scowls, but gives up, promising he won’t open his mouth again. A few minutes is how long he can go without uttering a word.

The moment he forgets himself in the feeling of being close. Minki’s hot breath is blowing at your lips, and though you anticipate a kiss, it’s never placed. It’s as if some greater being has stopped the time for him, imprisoning Minki in the pose. Having him so close is heavenly, but just as happy as you are, the need to laugh overpowers. His eyes open at the sound, surprised. Once again, he returns to the body of a born teaser.

A pair of gloves, thrown at you seemingly out of annoyance. At least that’s what’s written on Minki’s face. Annoyance, because you’re forgetful enough to hurt yourself in the cold season. Stiff fingers have trouble putting the material on. You hesitate. Is it really okay for you take the gloves? Minki gave you them himself, but sometimes we hurt ourselves for others. It’s a reminder that he cares a lot, no matter how much of trouble he’s brought you. Or how deep is the frown on his features.

The face of disinterest. You hate it with burning passion. It’s his way of telling you that things aren’t alright between the two of you. That he feels distaste, as if he was staring at a plate of mold. Minki’s words are cold, pulled straight out of freezing temperatures. They make your back stiffen, eyes glaze over, hands tighten their grip. You want to disappear, melt away and seep through the ground to mix with the depths. Maybe then you wouldn’t have to suffer at the hands of his indifferent facial expression.

➛ pollenat’s list of headcanons

➛ pollenat’s list of shorts

➛ pollenat’s list of scenarios

#ladies gentlemen and grand people - we did it - finished it on saturday #nu'est scenarios #nu'est fanfiction #nu'est imagines #nu'est headcanons #nu'est fluff #nu'est angst #nu'est x reader #nuest scenarios #nuest fanfiction #nuest imagines #nuest headcanons #nuest fluff #nuest angst #nuest x reader #boy groups #kpop scenarios #kpop fanfiction #kpop imagines #kpop headcanons #kpop fluff #kpop angst

[lil-ichigo-bunny]

『Jai’s GameBoy Game Playlist』

These are my favorite games to play while small / think would be good to play while small! (Some may be difficult for small kiddos) These are from all the different Gameboys. You’ll have to find them for your own system and if they’re compatible.

Jai’s top 10:

My Little Pony : Runaway Rainbow

My Little Pony : Pinkie Pie’s Party

Super Mario Advance

Donkey Kong Country 3

Barbie and the Magic of Pegasus

Chicken Little

Monsters Inc

Ratatouille

Open Season

Finding Nemo

Full List:

Pokémon Emerald , Sapphire , Ruby , Fire Red , Yellow and Leaf Green

Pokémon Dungeon (any)

Pokémon pinball

Super Mario Bros 3

Super Mario World 2

Mario Kart : Super Circuit

The Legend of Zelda : A Link to the Past

The Legend of Zelda : Four Swords

Kirby : Nightmare in Dream Land

Mario and Luigi Superstar Saga

Donkey Kong Country 1 , 2 and 3

Yoshi’s Island (Super Mario Advance 3)

Sonic Advance 1 , 2 and 3

The Incredibles

Mario Party Advance (Party on the Go!)

Kirby and the Amazing Mirror

Ice Age 2 the Meltdown

Mario Pinball Land

The Lion King 1 1/2

Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles

Fairly Odd Parents : Breakin’ da Rulez

Shark Tale

Barbie : Princess and the Pauper

Dr Mario

Spongebob Squarepants : Supersponge

Jimmy Nuetron Boy Genius

Jimmy Nuetron : Attack of the Twonkies

Tom and Jerry : Infeurnal Escape (may be upsetting to some kiddos)

Dogz (any of them)

Barbie and the Magic of Pegasus

Rugrats : I gotta go Party

Barnyard

Tom and Jerry : Magic Ring

Cinderella

The Little Mermaid : Magic in two Kingdoms

Over the Hedge

Disney Princess Royal Adventure

Finding Nemo

Lilo and Stitch

The Legend of Zelda : Minish Cap

Ratatouille

Powerpuff Girls Mojo Jojo A-Go-Go

Open Season

Candy Land, Chutes and Ladders, Memory (3-pack game)

Mouse Trap, Operation, Simon (3-pack game)

Dexter’s Labratory Deesaster Strikes

Catz

Strawberry Shortcake Summertime Adventure

Hello Kitty Happy Party Pals

Harvest Moon

More will be added as I find them!

#the image isn’t transparent atm I’ll fix it at some point #jai suggests a game! #/tw pokémon #agere #agere games #.jaibabbles

[supermanandlois-updates]

Make Superman sad, or make him evil. Ditch those red underpants and butch the bright blue tights into dark blue kevlar. Let him snap somebody's neck. Kill his parents — no, kill him! Now bring him back, in black! Almost three decades after the Man of Steel died hard and bloody in one of the bestselling comics ever, the "mature" or "dark" take on him is the conventional wisdom. Amazon has two shows about nefarious Superman-types. HBO Max promises to delete all Henry Cavill's smiles from Justice League. There's a hit videogame franchise where Superman brutally conquers the world — and, in a new Suicide Squad game's trailer, he incinerates an innocent human with heat vision. Superman & Lois takes a much bolder creative risk, transforming the hero into the most embarrassingly uncool creature in the multiverse: A dad.

The new CW series (debuting Tuesday, Feb. 23 at 8 p.m.) arrives with a lot of runway. Elizabeth Tulloch and Tyler Hoechlin previously guest-starred as Lois and Clark across the network's DC lineup. In Hoechlin's seventh appearance, he played an evil Superman doppelganger in a black costume threatening to snap Flash's neck: Check, check, checkeroo. The 90-minute premiere welcomes fresh viewers, though, skipping from familiar crash-landing origins into unfamiliar territory.

Lois and Clark are married, living in a Metropolis brownstone with teen sons. Jonathan (Jordan Elsass) plays football and has a girlfriend. His twin brother, Jordan (Alexander Garfin), plays lonely videogames and suffers from social anxiety disorder. Raising a Winklevoss and a Zuckerberg isn't easy. Before the opening title even appears onscreen, Superman stops "a meltdown the size of Fukushima!" with ice breath — which makes him late for Jordan's therapy. "You really do need to be around more," grandma Martha Kent (Michele Scarabelli) chastises her son. "The boys need to see what a strong and loving and vulnerable man looks like." No, no, you're crying.

Hoechlin has a sweet smile, and the build of a decent athlete who doesn't go crazy with the weight training. In the opening montage, Superman rescues a little boy from a falling car. He sets the automobile down, picks up the dazed kid's baseball cap, and hands it back with a smile: "There you go, friend!" Hoechlin makes the line sincere and unforced, like he just helped his neighbor carry a couch upstairs.

He's a bit retro, is what I'm saying, and the notion of the last son of Krypton as a genial patriarch harkens back to a bygone Beppo-the-super-monkey era. But this old-fashioned man of tomorrow lives in a scary new today. The Daily Planet got purchased by billionaire Morgan Edge (Adam Rayner), and the paper's experiencing another round of layoffs. When Clark visits Smallville, he finds a typical 20th-century town gone to typical 21st-century rot. "It's hard for family farms to make it around here nowadays," a local tells Clark Kent — the boy raised on maybe the most famous family farm in pop culture history! Clark's teen crush Lana (Emmanuelle Chriqui) has her own kids, and she works as a loan officer, which in this debt-ridden burg makes her an angel of death. Her brooding fire-chief husband Kyle (Erik Valdez) keeps busy putting out meth explosions. "Everybody else we know moved away," Lana tells Clark. Is that an accusation?

(xx)

#superman and lois

[taeyamayang]

congratulations on 200 followers !!

ihope im not late to the event chdbxhdhd

my name is dee

i go by she/her pronouns and prefer males

i like doing things like painting, baking, reading, and playing video games

i love rain, the night, winter and basically anything dark and cool. i also am a big fan of cats, tea, ramen, and ice cream. i appreciate people who are very observant and can read others behaviors and such

i really hate sunny days and the sun in general (its too much heat for me). i also hate being told what to do or to be looked down on.

i am a very introverted person who hates going to any sort of social gathering unless im dragged to it. i have a multitude of mood swings that even i barely know how to deal with myself. i am very sarcastic, blunt, and like to keep my privacy. i have a terrible fear of failure but the terrible habit of procrastination too. my love language is quality time and physical touch. i really have no dream or ambition in life as of right now and i often neglect my own health without even noticing at times.

my ideal s/o would be a person that is patient enough with me. someone who is willing to understand where all of my habits and thoughts are coming from and not judge me for them. i also need someone that can balance me out but also is not someone too energetic that i can’t keep up at all.

i am pairing you withㅡAkaashi Keiji

↬ srsly, who handles bokuto's meltdowns and moodswings better than akaashi? he literally just look at him and be like "here we go again." then assess which approach should he use. people might see him as blank or expressionless but i think that's because most of the time he would rather sit back and observe people around him and honestly that's so attractive of him. additionally, he can be like your personal coach, you know what i mean? i think he's the type of person to push you into doing more because he knows about your potential and at the end of the day he welcomes you with a smile saying he's proud of you. (can u feel my softness for him?? fsjshsjsj) with all that being said, i think those characteristics would balance you out making the two of you a healthy couple :)

today isn't your best day. probably because of the scorching heat that's burning your skin or maybe because of the pile of tasks you have to accomplish within the unattainable limited timeframe your teacher set.

just thinking of the your long list of to-do list makes you grunt outloud. for now, you push the thought away and focus on blaming the weather for pulling your mood down. you are never really a fan of toasting your skin under the sun, for you it just doesn't make sense. why deal with the heat and sweat when you have a choice to chill under the shade or spend the time indoors with the air conditioning machine turned on and while you enjoy your ice cream.

just like archimede's eureka moment, your sense of jubilee rushes back to you as pick up a brilliant idea from your train of thoughts. ice cream and an air conditioned room?

sounds like a plan.

you push yourself off from your seated position as you stride your way to the nearest convenience store around the block. shortly, you reach your destination. you push the door open making the wind chime hanged on top of glass door clink.

"welcome." the boy with a cap on behind the counter greets you rather flatly. he didn't bother glancing up to you as he busy himself with scanning the bar codes of the items presented to him.

you walk around the store. although, you came here for the ice cream you just want to stroll around to see if there are any items that are more tempting than an ice cream. you scan the place and see tons of cold drinks like slushies and canned soda that can replenish the heat but your senses are called when you hear the ice cream machine vibrates as the man with a black cap on pulls the lever down.

nothing beats a good ice cream, you thought.

you immediately walk to the counter to stand behind a woman who's telling the boy his order. the boy presses on the buttons of the cashier. the small machine next to it prints the receipt. he tears the receipt from the printer before handing it to the woman.

he turns around and open a cabinet full of ice cream cones. he gets one, closes it using his elbow, and pulls the lever down. the machine once again judders. nothing sounds better to you than an ice cream machine vibrating.

today, that's your favorite sound.

after two loops of vanilla goodness, the standard serving of commercial ice cream, he hands the ladly her treat. he thanks her using the same monotone voice he used to welcome you. you step forward to take your turn.

"ice cream, please. mixed." you point at the machine first before you place your change on the counter.

he peers at you, his brows pulling down as he takes in your face. a corner of his lips pulls to the side as if he is in deep thought. he uses his hand to slightly push himself forward as he looks over to your shoulder. his orbs scans the room before shifting his eyes back to you. you raise an eyebrow at his suspicious move.

he takes the money, presses the buttons of the cashier, tears the receipt from the printer, and hands it to you. he turns around to open the cabinet to pull one cone from the stack then begins topping the cone with your favorite dairy. you study him as your eyes stare at his back.

why would he look at you like that?

then, just like that, the universe gives your token for the day. you watch him go for a third twirl, then a fourth, then a fifth, and finally stops at his seventh loop. he looks at the towering ice cream with pride on his eyes.

he pushes the not-commercially-accepted-ice-cream-serving to you and instantly your eyes widen. you rally eyes pupils from him and to the ice cream for a couple of times before he speaks out.

"tough day? take this." he pushes it near to you once more. "the cctv is broken, i won't get fired over this." he assures you.

your eyes sparkle at the way the ice cream reflects the lights in the room. you take it from him gently, trying not to knockover his attempt to cheer you on.

"thank you," you bring your eyes to him as a smile forms on your faceㅡyour first genuine smile of the day. your orbs catches on his name plate and you read it "keiji. thank you, keiji."

he does the same by bringing his eyes down to a card hanging at the bottom of your id lace.

"you're welcome, dee." his change of voice from monotone catches you off guard. instantly, his voice has became your favorite sound. sorry ice cream machine. you both share a smile.

you knew that the ice cream in this convenience store is the best. undoubtedly, you're coming back for more.

random story: there's convenience store *kinda* near my place where they let you get your own ice cream and it doesn't matter how many twirls you make (tbh, the number of twirls you can tower in a single cone has become a competition in that store lol) anyway i missed that. also they serve sesame seed flavored ice cream so iTS BLACK UGH I LOVE and surprisingly it tastes good! now i want ice cream :/

a/n: thank you for joining the event scorpio-mate! hope you have a great day~