#nik wallpaper

[sajra-savera]

Reblog if you take 18354 screenshots of your wallpaper and start emergency call 50 times a day accidentally

[bellarkeselection]

Plotting Gossip

Request from @catmikaelson20 klaus is hatching a plot against an enemy, and he is making a plan with some witches, and suddenly, a witch sees klaus's phone wallpaper. He tells her that it's his girlfriend and starts talking about her non-stop.

"So let's run over the plan one more time. We hunt down the witches who are working alongside my mother. Then we torture them and get information and once they are dead we stack their bodies as a message to my future enemies. What are you doing with my phone little witch?" He stopped his explanation seeing Davina was holding his cell phone in her hands. She turned the phone screen towards him showing him a picture of him and Y/n. "Who exactly is this girl. I thought you didn't care about human life because they were too weak." He takes the phone from her hands grinning ear to ear at the picture making his heart flutter. "She's my girlfriend, Y/n. The love of my life. She's my everything."

He kept staring at the phone before sitting down on the couch. He couldn't get enough of seeing his girlfriend and he missed her everyday they weren't together. "Davina she may be human but she is innocent and brings out the good in me. She makes me feel like a better version of myself. Like I can be better with her. She makes me feel human again." He glanced up at the witch seeing her just blankly staring at the original hybrid. "Wow I didn't know you had that in you." She breaths out before the door opened and she saw a young girl with (h/c) enter the room waving to the witch then leaning down and kissing him gently on the lips. "Hi Davina. Hi baby. So how's your plan to stop your mother going. You're not covered in blood yet so that means we still have time for our date." The witch watched her smile still not fully understanding that he was head over heels for someone.

"Of course we can love. I did promise you that you would be my first priority before I take my vengeful mother." My boyfriend Klaus replied twirling some pieces of my hair in between his fingers. Without thinking I wrapped my arms around his neck leaning down pressing my lips onto his. He cradles my face in his hands and I started pulling at his curly locks getting him to moan until Davina cleared her throat blushing at us. "Uh I'm gonna go..." Klaus waved his hand wrapping his arms around my waist making me squeal when he started kissing my neck finding my sweet spot. "Yes little witch leave us. Well tear my enemies apart later." He vamped me upstairs putting my back onto the bed breaking the kiss to remove his shirt and mine. Wrapping my arms around his neck he moaned when my fingers twisted themselves into his curly blonde hair.

"I guess we're skipping dinner tonight for this. I mean not that I'm complaining I'm just suprised." I gasped grinning up at him tracing my fingers over the tattoo on his chest. He moves down running one hand through my hair crashing his lips onto mine. He breaks the kiss staring down at me like I was a goddess or a queen in his eyes. Even though I was a weak human compared to him he sees me as much more than that. "I just can't help myself Y/n. I'm just bloody obsessed with you. You're very being, your smile, laugh, spirit and the way you make me a better hybrid than I used to be-" I cut him off crashing my lips onto his he gasped leaning into kiss until I break it feeling my heartbeat skip a little. "Nik, I love the way you describe everything you love about me but there's far too much talking for the amount of clothes we aren't wearing. So make love to me already please." He smirked nuzzling his nose against mine running his fingers over my hips making me squeal. "What kind of boyfriend would I be if I denied my queen's wishes."

Tags @rosie-posie08 @colbysbrocks

Comments really appreciated ❤️

[bobateahunnie]

Crystal-themed desktop background

If used, please like/reblog if saved!~

Please don't repost these desktop wallpapers :3

= Nik (Bobateahunnie)

[chickensarentcheap]

This is from chapter 19 of I Found. That god awful, shitty mess that is the first fic LOL.  But this is one of the character interactions (both canon characters at that!) and sections of dialogue I am actually proud of!

@tragiclyhip, @themaradaniels, @munstysmind, @youflickedtooharddamnit, @mrsmungus, @residentdormouse, @asirensrage, @secretaryunpaid, @muchadoaboutcj, @starryeyes2000, 

He arrives at Mumbai Central Prison just shy of ten am. The weather is already unbearable; hot and sticky; sweat dampening the neck of his simple army green t-shirt, the thin fabric sticking to the small of his back. He checks in at the main office. Using the fake law enforcement credentials Nik had sent him to register as a visitor, turning in his gun and the knife that he keeps in his back pocket.

“Long way from home,” the desk clerk comments, as he holds up the identification next to Tyler's face, verifying that the man in the photo is the same as the one who now stands in front of him. “Australia? The land down under?”

“That's what it says,” Tyler shoves the ID into his wallet and slips the latter back into the side pocket of his tan cargo pants.

“What brings you here? All the way to Mumbai.”

“Business. I'm here to see Mahajan.”

The clerk's eyes widen; the drug lord doesn't get many visits, aside from his team of lawyers. The kid had stopped coming to visit a long time ago, and they haven't seen the man servant in at least a year. He'd been the last one to come and see the old man.

“Check the book,” Tyler nods at the thick ledger sitting on the desk. It's an old school system; pen and paper when the old and weathered computers decide they've had enough for the day. “I'm in there.”

He taps the toe of his boot against the crack and faded tiles, watching as the other man flips through the thick leather bound book, and locates the proper page; a long, thin finger trailing through every written word until he comes up with the one he wants.

“What do you want with him?” the clerk inquires. “A cop all the way from Australia?”

“Like I said, it's business. And I'm not a cop. That's not what I do.”

The man arches an eyebrow, cocks his head to the side. Unsure of what to make of the stranger across from him. Tall and broad shouldered; strong and intimidating. “What is it you do?”

A slow grin. “A lot of things.”

****

He's led to a waiting area. A long, narrow corridor with faded tiles and peeling wallpaper that reveals the original brick underneath. No air conditioning. The temperature unbearably hot. And he uses the front of his t-shirt to clear the sweat away from his face and his forehead. A young woman with a baby sits in a chair in the corner, watching him warily. He's big and scary, as far as she's concerned. A stranger in their country. And as he leans back against the wall and crosses his arms over his chest, he gives her a small smile in hopes of easing some of her discomfort.

Several minutes tick by before the opens once again. An armed guard ordering the woman to stay where she is before giving Tyler a nod and jerking his head towards the main body of the prison. No formalities or mindless chit chat are exchanged as he is led through the central office and back out into the blazing sun. Feeling the curious eyes and hearing the chatter as he follows the guard. Sunglasses on, hiding his eyes as they survey the surroundings and the throngs of prisoners out in the yard. Always on alert. A stranger like him showing up causes a lot of speculation. And with speculation came worry. Which quickly turns into fear. If they felt threatened or spooked, there was no telling what kind of situation could explode.

“Out,” the guard orders all the visitors and prisoners currently in the visitation area. “Hurry up and get out. Move.”

He waits as guests scurry past him and the other prisoners file out, then allows himself to be led down to the very end of the room. Nothing more than a simple metal chair and metal bars separating him from the other side. And he is still standing when Mahajan is led in; heavily armed guards on either side of him, their hands on his upper arms as they guide him, handcuffs securely fastened to his wrists. Tyler is surprised. Unimpressed. Not nearly the intimidating figure that he'd been lead to believe. The years have not been kind to the old man; streaks of gray in his hair and beard, numerous pounds of weight lost. Maybe when he was younger he cut an imposing figure. But now he was nothing more than a pathetic old man who'd spend the rest of his life locked up.

He sits only after Mahajan has done so and the guards depart; waiting and watching from the door. Several minutes pass before anyone speaks; the only sounds in the room the slow ticking of the clock and the low hum of a window air conditioner. Neither man looks away from the other, Tyler's hands clasped and resting on the ledge in front of him, Mahajan tapping his fingers against the bottom of the frame that holds the bars

“So you're the one,” Mahajan finally speaks. His tone is unimpressed. Tyler supposes he doesn't fit the old man's bill of what a mercenary should look like. He's probably younger than he expected. Not as beat up and harried as most.

“Yeah...” he nods. “...I guess I am.”

“That stupid sonofabitch was supposed to take care of you. You shouldn't even be sitting here right now. Had he done his job properly...”

“He died helping save your son. And I should have died.”

“But here you are. Sitting in front of me. Thinking you have some right to come here and demand my presence? Looking for some kind of thank you? Some kind of respect? So you can gloat about what you've done?”

“That's far from the reason I'm here. You don't have to like me or respect me. I'm far past giving a shit about what others think of me.”

“So it's money you want then? You feel you weren't fairly compensated for the work you done. The one I hired you to do. You work for me. You don't come here in and walk in as if you own the place. As if I owe you something.”

“I don't work for you. And I don't give a shit about your money, mate. I'm here about your son.”

His eyes widen, jaw clenching. “The trouble has gotten worse? Why are you here then? Talking to me? You should be there. At my home. Protecting my son. Not here talking to me and wasting my time.”

“I've got six armed guards always watching the place. Two that follow him to school. I've been handling things. Taking care of your kid. Because apparently you don't give a shit about him enough to keep your head on straight and stay out trouble. What kind of father does that shit? Chooses the life you had over taking care of their own flesh and blood.”

“How dare you talk to me like that!” Mahajan fumes. “How dare you come and here and question my love and loyalty to my son!”

“A year ago I had to put my ass on the line to save your son. You caused that. Because you couldn't get your shit together and just be a father. So yeah. I'm questioning your love and your loyalty to your son. The fact that you have none.”

“You have a family?”

“A wife,” he confirms “And a baby. A daughter.”

“Are you telling me you wouldn't do anything to care for them? Provide for them?”

“There's nothing I wouldn't do for them. I'd lay down my life for them. No questions asked. But I wouldn't do what you do. Get rich by hurting other people. Put drugs in the hands of kids. Sit back counting my money while people around me die.”

“Are we really that different, you and I? Hmm? Do you not kill people for money? Hurt them? Is that not how I found you in the first place?”

“We're nothing alike, mate. We never will be.”

“Killing comes with your job, does it not? When you were rescuing my son, did you not have to kill people?” Mahajan challenges.

“It's not the same thing,” Tyler insists.

“Killing is the same no matter how it is done. Or who does it. I bet you have taken far more lives than I have. You have the blood of hundreds of men on your hands. You say you kill them because they deserve it. Who are you to judge them? These people that are just trying to live by any means necessary.”

“By hurting innocent people,” Tyler argues. He keeps his tone low, unaffected. Refusing to let the man get to him. “That's the difference. I help the ones who need it and I hurt the ones who don't. They aren't innocent. They hurt people. People who are weaker than them. Who can't defend themselves. We aren't the same, mate. Not by a long shot.”

“We both have blood on our hands. You say that yours is justified. In the same way I do.”

“You put drugs into the hands of kids. You made people into addicts. You ripped families apart. I'm nothing like you.”

Mahajan smirks, leans back in his chair, eyes cold and calculated. “Did the men you kill not have families? Children? Hmm? Were there not innocent people connected to them? You sit here, thinking you're better than me. A white man who thinks he is somewhat superior because of the colour of skin. You walk in here with your God complex, judging me? Does your wife and your child know what you do?”

“My wife and my child have nothing to do with this.”

“You put them in harms way, do you not? You preach to me about my son and you do the same with your child. Do you think it would stop people? People that want to hurt you? You think it would stop them from hurting her because she is a baby? That won't matter to the people that hate you. The ones that want revenge.”

“Let's get one thing straight...” Tyler leans forward in his chair, trying to ignore how his blood runs cold at the man's words. A chill that starts at the roots of his hair and travels his entire body. “...my daughter is innocent. In the same way your son is. We are not the same. I help people. Like your son. And I bring them back to their families. Without guys like me, your son would be dead. Without guys like you, a lot of innocent people would still be alive. We are not same.”

The older man finally relents. Holding his hands up in surrender. “You say you're here for my son yet there's been no trouble. So why are you here? Hmm? Wasting my time?”

“I'm here because your son deserves a better life. One where he's not looking over his shoulder all the time. Where he's not constantly paying for his father's mistakes. He shouldn't have to live like this. Alone.”

'He has everything he could possibly want. A beautiful house to live in, food on the table, an expensive school.”

“He doesn't have a family. And that's what he wants the most. He wants a family. People who love him. Who will take care of him. Who want more for his future than this bullshit existence he has now. He has no one. All those things surrounding him, yet he's very much alone. Even you must be able to see that.”

Mahajan nods slowly, considering his words.

“My wife and I want to take him. When we leave here. We want to...”

“Take my son away from me?” he laughs. “You come here with a request like that? My only son? My blood? Hand him to you? A stranger?”

“A stranger that already laid down his life once for him. Who'd do it again. In a heartbeat.”

“For money,” he reminds Tyler. “You did it for money.”

“That's how it started out, yeah. But it became much more when you decided to fuck me. There was never any money. Not enough to afford me, anyway. That's why you had Saju try to kill me and steal him back. How'd that work out for you?”

Mahajan inhales sharply.

“I could have easily left your kid in the street. When I knew there was no money. I could have handed him right over to Asif. I had the chance. My part of ten million dollars if I just handed him over. But I didn't. I kept your son alive. And for what? This shitty fucking existence? Always looking over his shoulder, waiting for the next threat? Even you must be able to see it. That he has nothing. He doesn't even have a father.”

“I'm his father!” the other man roars, and leaps to his feet.

Tyler waves the guards off when he sees them attempt to make a move towards them. “You're not his father, mate. You're just the guy who helped make him. There's a lot more to being a father like that. Swallow your fucking pride and think about your son for once. Think about the kind of life he has compared to the one he deserves.”

“You think I can't hurt you from here? That I can't take away everything and everyone you love? That you...”

“I think you need to sit down and shut up. Don't threaten me. Or my family. Because you're not the only one who knows how to get shit done.”

The older man blinks. His chest heaving with fury.

“Sit down,” Tyler repeats. “Or you'll see just how far I'm willing to go to protect my family.”

[kinglemurenhetterriblybeast]

King LeMur en het Terribly Beast

Laatste, deel 8.

Je zult je nu misschien wel afvragen hoe de relatie was tussen mij en Terribly Beast. Ik zal een beeld van schetsen. Dan mag je zelf bepalen of dit vriendschap of echt een hel was, zoals zij het kennelijk ervaarde.

'Mijn beste grumpy friend', had ik op Terribly Beast haar kaartje geschreven. Dat was voor het complimenten spel dat we op de laatste schooldag deden. Dan moest je voor al je klasgenoten iets positiefs op een kaartje schrijven. Grumpy friend dus.

Want Terribly mopperde. Over alles en iedereen. Maar ze was gedreven, als een beest. Zo gedreven, dat niets goed genoeg was. Zelfs als ze 100% scoorde op haar toetsen dan klaagde ze daar nog over. Ik vond dat eerst wel aandoenlijk. Herkende wel hoe het is, als je gezegend bent met de vloek van perfectionisme. Dan ben je nou eenmaal heel streng voor jezelf. En denk je dat het altijd beter kan.

Alleen Terribly was echt een Beast. Ze stopte nooit met klagen. Niet op school. Maar ook niet op het werk. Echt helemaal niks was goed genoeg. Dat begon me op een gegeven moment wel te storen. Ik vroeg haar of ze het werk überhaupt wel leuk vond. Dan klaagde ze daar weer over, van ‘Noujaaa’. 

Op haar verjaardag gaf ik haar een grote knuffel. Niet zo'n pluche beest, maar een 'hug'. Ze vertelde me nog dat een andere klasgenoot haar ook knuffelde. Dat ze zich daar ongemakkelijk bij voelde, omdat ze niet close met hem was.

Ze vertrouwde mij persoonlijke dingen toe van haar familie, schoonfamilie en ex. Dat ze uit elkaar waren gegaan, omdat hij kinderen wilde maar zij niet. Dat ze daar behoorlijk mee zat, omdat hij nu wél een relatie en kinderen heeft. En zij niet. 

Voor mijn verjaardag gaf ze mij, als enige van de klas, een doosje met bonbons. Op de kaart had ze 'lieve groetjes' geschreven. In de rustruimte ging ze regelmatig tussen mij en een collega in zitten, op nota bene een tweepersoonsbank. Knus.

Op een dag ontmoette ik collega Sophie. We spraken elkaar voor het eerst en ontdekten al snel dat we veel met elkaar gemeen hadden. Het was een heerlijke nerdy, enthousiast en fijn gesprek. Terribly zat erbij. Ze leek wat jaloers op de klik tussen Sophie en mij. Ze zei mopperend ‘‘Waarom hebben jullie dit wel en ik niet? Nu lijkt het net of niemand mij leuk vindt’.

Dat vond ik best wel sneu voor haar, dus wilde ik haar gerust stellen. Want ik hou niet van buitensluiten. Ik klopte met mijn hand op haar knie en zei: ’Tuurlijk vinden wij jou ook leuk’. 

In de klacht van Terribly staat dat ons meningsverschil wat haar betreft nog niet uitgesproken was. Dat zij vanaf het begin al moeite met mij had. Dat ze me bonbons gaf maar het zakelijk probeerde te houden om geen verkeerd beeld te geven. Dat ik aan haar knie heb gezeten. Dat ik ongevraagd en ongepast een wallpaper naar haar gestuurd heb. Dat ze mij bedreigend vond en ik haar mentaal kapot zou maken. Mijn enthousiasme werd kennelijk door haar als fanatisme en bedreigend opgevat. Dat vond de klas, met wie ik dacht een goede band te hebben, spontaan ook.

Manager Asil schreef dat ze mijn gedrag kinderachtig vond voor iemand van ruim 50 jaar. Ja, dat heeft ze letterlijk geschreven. Zij had mijn klas verboden contact met mij te hebben. Ze heeft de klacht van Terribly Beast aan iedereen voorgelegd en om een reactie gevraagd.

Coaches en trainers vonden mij een aimabel persoon. Maar na het horen van de klacht bleken ze opeens een vreemd onderbuik gevoel te hebben. Een van de trainers had na het horen van haar verhaal aangegeven dat ze niet echt verbaast was. Dat stond er echt.

Hiervoor had ik nog uitsluitend lovende kritieken van de trainers gekregen. Dat stond ook in mijn beoordelingen. Een manager had mij zelfs een officieel compliment gegeven. Ja, dat bestaat echt! Dat is het tegenovergestelde van een officiële klacht. Maar kennelijk niet zo krachtig.

Hoe dan ook, de conclusie van King LeMur is dat ik kennelijk een verschrikkelijk persoon ben. En dat je dan geen recht van spreken hebt. Althans zo interpreteer ik haar schrijven en handelen. Dat je de mening van Terribly Beast altijd blindelings moet geloven. En dat je op zoek gaat naar bevestiging van haar mening. Maar vooral niet beide kanten van het verhaal aanhoort. Geloof het of niet, maar dit is werkelijk gebeurt. Maar ik heb me er ondertussen bij neergelegd. Het is mijn tijd en energie niet waard.

Ik zal heel eerlijk zeggen, dat ik het best wel lastig om dit te schrijven. Om alles weer opnieuw te beleven. Heb er goed en lang over nagedacht. Maar vind het toch belangrijk dat iedereen dit weet. Dan weet je ook dat het me niet altijd lukt mijn vrolijke masker op te zetten. Maar dat ik wel altijd m’n best doe.

Voor de duidelijkheid, dit is geen zielig verhaal. Ja natuurlijk voelde ik mij hier flink klote door. Met vlagen nog steeds. Het terugwinnen van m’n vertrouwen zal wel even wat tijd nodig hebben. Het belangrijkste is, dat het opschrijven en delen van mijn verhaal voor mij absoluut een therapeutische werking heeft. Dus bij deze sowieso ontzettend bedankt voor het lezen 💛

[kiwibomb]

gunmin lockscreens!! please like or reblog if you save it! 🎡

[cal-kestis]

tagged by @cindysmoon, @dilfmaul, and @star-wars to post my lockscreen, the last picture i saved (i was skimming star wars tales #9 - resurrection last night for an edit idea), and the last song i listened to! thanks for tagging me <3

no pressure tagging: @bestintheparsec​ @ewan-mcgregor​ @nikita-mearss​ @trashcora​ @sirtadcooper​ @mandalores​ @khangs​ @userjen​ @jackarthurdavenport​ @santiagogarcia​ @e-zra​ @letterfromvienna​ @magnusedom​ @taskmastter​ 

[novorapid19]

👼💙

[nik-kershaw]

🎶behind my dark glasses there's a man who has a point of view...🎶

[secretcycle]

Wallpaper Nike Sign

[rupeewallet]

OWAAAAAHACHAHAHAAAAA THE WONDERFUL !!!!! WONDERFUL ART !!!!!!! YOU ARE SO FANTASTIC THANK YOU SO SO MUCH FOR A WONDERFUL COMMISSION OF MY BOY !!!!!!!!

You know I love to love on OCs and @rupeewallet ‘s Clone OC Target is a longtime favorite of mine. Thanks a billion for the donation commission, Wally! He was a Blast to work on :D

Keep reading

[bobateahunnie]

Update!

Hey everyone! Nik here!~ A new member is joining the blog, so now there will be two of us working on designs for the bobateahunnie request shop!~ Reminder: desktop/phone wallpapers, moodboards, banners and fanfic covers are open for the request!~ we will be working on coming up with a form so its easier to request.

Thank you all for your support!~ - Nik <3

[dailymaya]

[Header ID: a screenshot from the Ace Attorney anime. Phoenix and Maya are on different sides of the glass in the detention center, crying out as they bow simultaneously and hit their heads on the glass. /end ID] [Icon ID: a drawing of Maya Fey, drawn fat, shown from waist up slightly eagerly leaning forward. she's grinning and looking to the side. the background is yellow and there are stars next to her. /end ID]

hi!! i'm nik and my main is @bytedykes (she/he)!

this is now a blog not only for my maya art but also for maya content of all kinds that i'll be reblogging and describing :)

dni: incest/pedo shippers, terfs/truscum, nsfw, thinspo, & self harm blogs (i will block people that make me uncomfortable)

tags: all original art is tagged #maya fey, reblogs are tagged #maya rbs, official merch stuff is tagged #official

feel free to use my art as icons/headers/wallpapers! preferably with credit

feel free to spam like/rb i dont mind

[kinglemurenhetterriblybeast]

King LeMur

Deel 5

Ik had Dats Dnar verteld dat het een meningsverschil met Beast was. Dat we het al uitgesproken hadden en we weer oke met elkaar waren. Enigszins zenuwachtig wachtte ik de reactie van Dats Dnar af. Dat was volgens haar niet alles. Ze begon een verhaaltje voor te lezen vanaf haar telefoon. Ze verontschuldigde zich hier wel voor. Maar het was de informatie die ze had en die wist ze niet haar hoofd. Het was een kort verhaaltje. Of eigenlijk wat losse zinnen.

Ik weet niet meer precies wat, want daarvoor voelde ik mij te ongemakkelijk. Wat ik nog wél onthouden heb, is Terribly Beast beweerde dat ik onstabiel was. Dat ik haar telkens weer aantrok en dan weer wegduwde. Dat ik haar bedreigd had. Dat ik aan haar knie had gezeten. Dat ik haar ongevraagd een wallpaper gestuurd had. Allemaal ongewenst gedrag. Dats Dnar vroeg wat ik er van vond.

HUH WAT?!? Serieus??? Ik wist niet wat ik hoorde. Ik haar bedreigt?? Ongewenst gedrag?? Wat ik hier van vond?!? Het tweetal aan de andere kant van de tafel keken mij vragend aan. Ze wilden weten of dit waar was. Geloofden zij dit zelf dan? Ik had toch alleen maar lof gekregen van King LeMur? M’n mond viel open van verbazing. Ik wist niet wat ik moest denken. Laat staan wat ik moest zeggen. Ik stamelde wat uit, dat dit alles wel heel raar en negatief geïnterpreteerd was door Beast.

Dats Dnar verliet hierna het kantoor om met manager Asil te bellen. Toen ze terugkwam zei ze dat ik voorlopig niet meer naar de training mocht. Ik moest thuis afwachten zodat ze konden onderzoeken hoe alles zat. Daarna zouden ze me wellicht uitnodigen voor een gesprek met King LeMur. Mogelijk met Beast erbij. Gelukkig konden we dit enorme misverstand dan rechtzetten. Toch?

Dats Dnar zou mij de klacht nog na-mailen zei ze. Alleen ik ontving maar niks. Later die week hoorde ik dat het verhaaltje op haar telefoon aantekeningen waren van het telefoongesprek dat zij met manager Asil had. De officiële klacht zou ik later nog ontvangen. 

Ik ging weer naar huis. Was eigenlijk wel benieuwd wat m’n klas van deze situatie vond. Ik opende Whatsapp op m’n telefoon. Maar wat zag ik? Ze hadden mij verwijderd uit onze klas-app groep. Huh?! Ik zag dat ik ook was verwijderd uit de vrienden-app groep van King LeMur. Huh wat?!? Werd ik nu ook door hun genegeerd en buitengesloten?? Zonder boe of bah. Ik snapte er niks van. Ik was al erg ongemakkelijk door dit alles. Maar nu begon m’n stresslevel toch wel hard te stijgen.

De volgende dag, zaterdag, moest ik werken. Ik wist alleen niet of werken het zelfde werd gezien als training. Want daar mocht ik voorlopig niet naar toe. Ik stelde de vraag in een mail aan Dats Dnar. De reactie kwam pas later die dag. Ik was ondertussen al gewoon wezen werken. 

Een gewone werkdag. Voor zover het gewoon kon zijn. Het enige wat me opviel is dat de coach die had gezegd dat ze hoopte dat ik lang bij King LeMur zou blijven werken, best wel afstandelijk deed. Maar ik zocht er verder niks achter. Misschien had ze haar dag niet.

In de mail van Dats Dnar stond alleen dat ik niet naar training mocht. Over werken schreef ze niks. Niks aan de hand dus. Dacht ik. Zondag had ik vrij. Maandag moest ik weer werken. 

’S Ochtends vroeg kwam ik op m’n werk aan. Ik had geen zin om m’n klas te zien. Al helemaal niet nadat ze mij zo buitengesloten hadden. Zonder te vragen hoe het met mij gaat of iets. Toen gebeurde er weer zoiets ongelofeloos. 

Morgen deel 6

[rosesgonerogue]

Dream of Me

Jasonette July Day 2 - Soulmate AU

Masterlist

Marinette’s soulmate had always been a mystery to her. At least, she assumed that the dreams were his fault. 

She never saw enough to call them memories, but most nights when she fell asleep, Marinette got flashes, impressions of her soulmate’s life. When they were young his weren’t too different from hers: a mother’s smile, a warm meal, and the occasional glimpse of things like his toys, or the wallpaper in his bedroom. 

It seemed completely normal to Marinette for those early years. While some people’s soulmate bonds manifested differently, her experience was fairly normal. Her parents had had something similar up until they met each other. 

Whenever she thought of her mystery soulmate (which was often), she wondered what he saw in his dreams. Did he see macarons and her first clumsy attempts at sewing? Did he see her best friends at school, or her dolls? Was he annoyed by how girly everything was? 

Maman assured her that he would love her, no matter what, just like Papa had always loved Maman. That was enough for Marinette, and she spent her early years surrounded by love both near and far. 

Everything changed in a single night. Marinette bid both of her parents goodnight before settling in for a peaceful sleep. 

It was dark in the dream, and Marinette immediately felt uneasy. The dreams were usually full of light and fun, so this just felt… wrong. 

Marinette felt like she was wandering through a hazy fog, and she was afraid to keep going, but she couldn’t stop. Nothing but the gray fog surrounded her until she reached a heavy door. 

She thought that she would have struggled with the weight of the door, but it gave to her touch easily. Steeling herself, Marinette walked through. 

Immediately a series of images flashed through her mind, all of them filled with blood. Blood spattered across the wall, blood seeping across kitchen linoleum, everywhere she looked there was blood. 

There might have been more to see, but Marinette would never know. She was woken screaming and crying by two incredibly concerned parents. 

“What’s wrong, darling?” Tom asked, rubbing her back. “Did you have a nightmare?” 

“Something happened to my soulmate,” she cried, burying her face in her father’s chest. “All I saw was a lot of blood. Something is wrong.” 

From then on the dreams changed. Understandably, Marinette was scared to sleep. Whenever she finally did, her dreams were of stale cigarette smoke, cold alleyways, and stolen wallets. While she got used to it, she wished she didn’t have to – it would have meant that her soulmate was safe. 

But he needed help, and Marinette could only do so much through dreams. So she lived to be happy, surrounding herself with love and light so her soulmate had something to look forward to each night. 

Sometimes it was painful for Tom and Sabine to watch. They knew what she was doing and why she was doing it, but that didn’t make it anymore fair for a ten-year-old to bear such a heavy burden. 

***********

If you asked Jason, he would have complained that he dreamed only in pink. He knew that the dreams came from whatever his soulmate had seen that day, but it was always so… pink. 

When he was younger, he hated it. Everything he dreamed about was girly, and he wanted nothing to do with it. 

Then, his parents were killed, and his own world plunged into darkness. Jason found himself alone in the world, living each day only to sleep, to catch those precious few moments of the only constant in his life. 

He found he couldn’t bring himself to care if everything was pink and frilly – that wasn’t what the dreams were for. Not the dreams were a sense of warmth, safety, and home. It didn’t matter if he went to bed hungry, because his mouth was filled with the taste of rich, amazing food that he couldn’t begin to identify or name. If he was forced to sleep shivering behind a dumpster, the dreams were always in perfect conditions, playing outside in a park, or standing near a warm oven. 

Jason likely would have given up long ago if it weren’t for his soulmate. Yes, the dreams kept him sane, reminded him that he was human, not some feral beast the adults treated him like. But even more than that, Jason knew someone cared about him. He didn’t know if she experienced anything similar, but all of his dreams were accompanied by her predominant emotions of the day, and almost every day since his parents died, the dreams were absolutely drenched with concern. 

Concern for him.

It was selfish, Jason knew. Whoever his soulmate was, she was practically a saint, and obviously a far better person than he could have possibly deserved. But he was determined that no one would have her except him – she wouldn’t have one of those soulmate tragedies where he died before they could ever meet. That was completely unacceptable. Sure, he wanted to be good enough for her and everything, but first he had to live long enough for all of that. 

The day that Jason met the Batman, he was sure it would be the end of the line. He knew trying to steal the Bat’s tires was his stupidest move yet, but he also couldn’t bring himself to care until he actually got caught. Looking at Batman, all Jason could think was that he didn’t know what his soulmate’s name was, or what she even looked like. He knew that she was kind, generous, and a great baker. He couldn’t let things end this way! 

In a move of supreme desperation, Jason savagely threw the tire iron into Batman’s stomach and ran like hell. 

Batman caught him, of course, holding him by the scruff of his neck while Jason snapped and growled. He wondered what his soulmate’s last dream from him would be like. Would she feel his fear, his desperation, his regret at never meeting her, or his apology? 

He couldn’t have possibly imagined how it would all actually end. A week later Jason found none other than Bruce Wayne driving him to Wayne Manor, spouting things about adoption and lawyers. It didn’t feel real, but once his future was undeniable, Jason found himself sinking into a softer bed than he knew existed. As sleep overtook him, he hoped his soulmate knew that she didn’t need to worry about him anymore. 

Taglist: 

@jasonette-july-2k20 @ira-sairain @myazael @pawsitivelymiraculous @nik-nak-3

Note: 

This is not a continuation of How to be a Dad 101, but you can expect a new chapter of that up tomorrow. If you asked to be added to the taglist for that, I’m just adding you on the taglist for everything Jasonette July. If you want to be added, just leave a comment below, but also just leave a comment below anyway, I love hearing from you all. This one may or may not get a continuation, depending on popularity and my own motivation. 

Also, a HUGE thank you to the people hosting Jasonette July! I don’t even want to think about everything that would go into planning something like this, and we all need a little positivity during these times, so blow it up! Like, comment and reblog the stories you like, and if you’ve got something, post it! I would love to see what other people have to share!!!