#I’ve decided to start just writing out all my ideas instead of just leaving blank canvases

[swedenis-h]

Xmen sketch dump… I’m going crazy…

[gwuncan-exhibit]

Happy Last Day of Gwunctober Everyone!!! 🤗🎃💚💙

So I was going to post a One-Shot today to celebrate this last day, but unfortunately, I just haven’t been having the energy lately to write anything. I still really want to give you all something to read though, especially with the closure of this shipping week here, so instead, I’ve decided that I wanted to share what the idea was going to be for my story! I wish that this was something longer and more well-polished, but I hope that it’s something you all still like regardless! 🙏🏼❣️

Also!! @midnight-blue-goth made me this wonderful edit above, which was going to be the cover for this tale, so shout out to her! Thank you again for making me this, I really appreciate you! 🫶🏼

Well, alright, without further ado, here’s what the concept for this fic was going to be like!

The story was going to be titled “The Night They Knew” and it was going to begin in between the events of Action and World Tour, where during the contestant’s breaks in between the two seasons, Duncan is shown to have stayed very close in the tabloids, especially with his publicized relationship with Courtney.

The two have become the big It Couple from Total Drama, garnering several attention from the media and fans of them alike, however, as the months roll by, Duncan quickly starts to lose interest in the fame life and even begins to feel a drift starting to form between him and Courtney’s dynamic.

After all the back and forth throughout Action, their energy eventually starts to take a toll on Duncan’s mind as he begins to feel consistently tired from their usual bickering and senses change growing in the air between the two of them. He just doesn’t know how to handle these feelings that he has inside, in fact, he’s kept his thoughts bottled up for not even a single soul to find out. But he soon comes to a realization that he just can’t continue to keep these concerns locked up anymore as it’s greatly causing him a lot of mental stress.

He still loves Courtney and would wish for things to all work out in the end, but also doesn’t feel like the path that they’re on is somewhere that he should be on anymore.

One night, as he’s gathering up his thoughts about everything, he decides to call up his best friend, Gwen, for a fun time out to escape his personal thoughts for one sleep less. Him and Gwen have stayed very close since the end of Action and try to hangout with one another for as much as they can since after the show, they’ve gotten a lot busier schedules. Gwen agrees to hangout with Duncan and invites him over to her place for some late night horror movies to binge and some delicious snacks to munch on. Duncan feels like that simple idea was a good one for the two and also suggests some beer for them to have as well.

While viewing the scary flicks together, Duncan tries to enjoy his time that he has with Gwen, but still feels that pain that was inside his heart, that feeling that something wasn’t quite right in his life. As he’s on his high from the beers he chugged, Duncan sees that even with the substance, he just can’t escape those thoughts for even a moment. In fact, ironically, it only makes him begin to overthink more as he feels that him and Courtney’s relationship is truly coming to its inevitable end.

Duncan begins to zone out from the TV screen and just drifts away from where he’s physically at, staying firmly in his own mind and unable to break away from it. Gwen catches Duncan’s blank expression and asks him what his problem was, playing off his tone as humorous, before soon finding out with his snappish responses back to her that he wasn’t joking around with her after all.

When Duncan takes it a step too far and raises his voice at Gwen, shouting at her to just leave him alone and insisting that he was fine, Gwen snaps back at him and calls him out, stating that he was not about to disrespect her in her own household, especially with her family sound asleep from across the hall. She even instructs him to get out of her house if he was going to continue with the attitude that he was displaying.

Duncan chokes up and stops Gwen, instantly apologizing to her, and realizes that he can no longer hide from himself anymore, immediately beginning to break down into tears and letting out all of what he had hidden deep inside his heart.

Gwen stares at Duncan in shock as she had never seen him cry before and sees that there indeed was more going on with him, realizing that there was more to why Duncan had wanted to hangout with her this night. She turns off the TV and puts her full attention on her best friend, who’s continuing to sob all out in front of her.

Once Duncan’s finally able to speak back up to her, he confesses to Gwen that things with him actually aren’t going well and that he feels miserable and lonely in his personal life, stating that he realized he really hates the celebrity lifestyle and all that comes with it. He also admits that he’s fearing of becoming broke soon since Courtney is preparing to file another lawsuit against him over their pet raccoon, Brittany, and he still has to look to find a lawyer for himself. And speaking of Courtney, lastly, he’s afraid that this is indeed the end for the two of them’s relationship.

He explains to Gwen that they’ve been headed nowhere but down since Action and it’s felt more like a chore to keep them together than anything and one that he’s beginning to feel isn’t worth the work to keep up with. He mentions all their arguing, all their drama, all their fighting that the two have been dealing with, the combination of it all was just finally starting to get to him, making him feel complete misery that he had gotten to this point in his life now.

Gwen listens closely to his every word, but unfortunately could only offer Duncan her shoulder to cry on as him and Courtney’s situation was something that only him could sort out, but still tried to console him the best that she could.

Duncan and Courtney’s relationship even begins to remind Gwen of the colossal mess that was her and Trent’s relationship that fell apart from the previous season of Total Drama. She brings it up as a joke, but Duncan legitimately catches the similarities between them, noticing how he and Gwen both had messy, reality TV show relationships, and asks her for any advice on him and Courtney’s situation.

Gwen collects her thoughts and begins to vent to Duncan about how all of that drama made her feel and what she took away from her and Trent’s story, what she learned and what decisions could’ve been made to avoid the problems that had occurred then. She hated to see Duncan also going through a complicated relationship and advises that he should really try communicating to Courtney about where the two of them are at as a couple and find some common ground again, even if it would be hard to get there.

As they continue to talk to one another, Duncan eventually gets to a calm state of mind again and is finally able to take a deep breath and put on a real smile in front of Gwen. Though their talk didn’t automatically fix everything, Duncan knew that it just felt good to be able to let out something incredibly personal like that to someone. He felt a big sense of relief coming from off his chest and liked how he felt heard when he shared his thoughts to Gwen.

He always liked how honest Gwen could be, but still assumed that some sarcastic judgement would be coming off from her when he discussed feelings that were more vulnerable to her, but that wasn’t the response he got from her at all.

As their time together came to a close, Duncan and Gwen both gave each other their goodbyes for the night and departed ways, leaving off knowing a little bit more about the other person than earlier in the day.

Duncan got to see Gwen as a little bit more than just as someone he could have a fun time with, but rather as someone he could also freely open up to and not have to worry about being judged for how he felt.

Gwen also got to see Duncan as someone she could not only joke around with, but as well as someone she could be her authentic self around and not having to worry about being outwardly judged for her decision making.

This night was very special to both Duncan and Gwen because it felt like they got to see the complete versions of each other and not just the simplified ones that they were so used to. They left this hangout feeling much different about each other than they had felt prior…maybe even a little something deeper than they realized.

As Gwen was cleaning up her room and getting ready for bed, she kept thinking about how much Duncan really cared for Courtney and how their situation together made him really feel. He got pretty emotional tonight and though he did have some liquor to drink, she noticed that his feelings still came from an earnest place and it wasn’t performative.

Seeing that concern in him for something like his romantic relationship was something that Gwen started to think was kind of endearing, how much he really cared for the people that he loved the most. She didn’t really get a sense of that before from him. Gwen tried to shrug that feeling away of growing admiration, but this new perspective on Duncan did start to make her question her views on him in a positive way. Throughout the next couple of months, she increasingly began to feel a genuine attraction to Duncan that she couldn’t help but feel just a little bit guilty about having.

Duncan, meanwhile, managed to have that talk he wanted to have with Courtney and was able to keep things afloat for a bit longer…but unfortunately, their common cycle quickly went back to repeating itself. Despite their best efforts, it was clear to Duncan that he and Courtney really were heading to their grand ending.

For the following months, Duncan and Gwen continued to remain very close with one another and additionally started to hang out more as they were paying extra attention to making sure that they were able to fit each other in that extra space of their lives.

With each new day together, Duncan started to feel more comfortable around Gwen than he even felt with Courtney and as time went by, he noticed how his heart began to feel a little differently around his best friend. There was some extra warmth that he felt around Gwen and eventually, that feeling began to stick around, developing a confusion for Duncan as he was still together with Courtney, trying to save anything left that could be built around with her, but also realizing that he had growing feelings for Gwen.

And by the time that all three of them were amongst the selected individuals to compete in Total Drama World Tour, Gwen and Duncan had by that time realized that there was definitely something romantic after all between them. Something that was much more deeper than what was already established beforehand.

[tabitha42]

Stars

“You know, Karlach, there are other ways to express love, beyond run-of-the-mill physicality.” “EEWWWW, are you going to try to teach me about exceptional uses for a mage hand or what?” “...Well, actually, I was thinking of poetry.”

Gale helps Karlach write a poem for her love, and realises a few things about himself along the way.

Word count: 1,938

Karlach x Wyll, one shot, fluff

“You know, Karlach, there are other ways to express love, beyond run-of-the-mill physicality.”

“EEWWWW, are you going to try to teach me about exceptional uses for a mage hand or what?”

“...Well, actually, I was thinking of poetry.”

“Oops, sorry. Although, now that I think of it… is mage hand especially hard to learn?”

The blue, ethereal hand shimmered, its translucent surface showing a distorted reflection of the wide grin on Karlach’s face.

“Yess!!” She celebrated, throwing her hands into the air in triumph. 

“Perfect!” Gale complimented, proud of both her for being able to learn it, and himself for being able to teach it to someone with next to no prior experience with magic. “That's the hard bit done. Now that you can summon it, you just need a bit of practice controlling it, and you'll be well away.” 

She waved her hand and watched it move similarly. The movements were awkward and stuttered, unlike Gale's mage hand which moved with the same grace and control of his own practised gestures, but she was sure with a bit of practice she'd have it down in no time. 

Eventually she dismissed it with the dismissal gesture he'd shown her previously, thrilled to see that that worked as well. 

“Thanks, Gale. I can't wait to try this out!”

“You'll have to let me know how it goes. Within the limits of your own privacy, of course.” 

“Heh, I don't mind telling you anything. Wyll might not appreciate that, though.” 

“Very true. I will leave it to your discretion, and I will leave you to practice. Unless you'd like me to stay to offer any further advice I may think necessary to improve your casting technique?”

“Actually… there was another favour I was going to ask you for.”

His eyebrows raised in curiosity. 

“My time is yours. What do you need?” 

“Well… I was thinking, maybe it would be nice to write a poem… but I can’t write poems for shit. If you don’t mind, maybe you could help me write one?” She looked a bit awkward as she asked, worrying she’d already taken up too much of his time, but his eyes lit up at the request. 

“‘If I don’t mind’? Karlach, first you ask me to teach you a spell, then you ask me to help you write a poem. This is quickly turning into my ideal evening!” He said excitedly. 

“Wow, you and I have very different ideas of what makes an ideal evening,” she laughed. She liked Gale, but there was so much about him she could never get her head around. 

“As we should. If we were all the same life would be quite dull. Now,” he produced, seemingly out of nowhere, a small book and a quill, and sat down cross-legged, “where shall we start?” 

She sat down with him, chuckling to herself. 

“Do you always keep an emergency book and quill with you?” 

“At all times. So, what sort of poem shall we go for? Metre or free verse?” 

She gave him a blank look. 

“...Do you want it to rhyme or not?” he asked instead, deciding to start simple given the look of complete bewilderment on her face. 

“Oh, well it's a poem, it has to rhyme!” 

“Heh, not at all, there’s no requirement of a poem for it to rhyme. But we can certainly make it rhyme if you’d like,” he said, seeing the slight hint of disappointment in her face at the mere suggestion of a poem that doesn’t rhyme. “Now, for the metre. I’ve always been partial to the common metre myself, though I do like a bit of iambic pentameter. Or we could go completely wild and choose something like-”

He stopped as he saw the blank look turn increasingly to one of confusion, starting to borderline regret. 

“You know what? Maybe I should worry about that. You just tell me what you want to go in the poem,” he said, much to her relief. She still wasn’t sure what the answer was, but she at least understood the question.

“I’m not really sure, to be honest…” 

“Well, why don’t we start with what you like about Wyll?” 

It didn’t take long before fond words of praise and adoration were falling from her lips, filled with her excitement, her enthusiasm, her love. She spoke about how she’d become so used to being surrounded by devils she’d forgotten there could be people as selfless as him. The conversation moved to what she wanted to do with him, how she longed to hug him, kiss him, dance with him… and other activities, of course. They spoke of her time in the Hells, her struggles, the pain, the loneliness, the endless fight to survive, the hope of escape that she never gave up on. She told him about the first night after they’d been taken, before she’d met any of their group, completely unable to sleep as she stared up at the stars, crying with happiness. She’d spent every night imagining them, longing to see them again, and now here they were. Of course, she’d spent every night imagining other things too, and now she was desperate to make those dreams a reality, to make up for the years of her life that she’d lost. 

It ended up being a very emotional evening, more so than Gale had expected. He’d known about her past, of course, but they’d never discussed it in such great detail, and seeing such raw and painful emotion from her led to more than a few tears shed on both sides. 

Eventually the poem was nearing completion. A few last tweaks, a final copy on a new page away from the scribbles and scattered ideas of the previous page, and it was ready. 

“It’s done!” he said proudly, handing the book to Karlach. “Or at least, a first draft is done. We can edit or alter anything you wish. Also I’m afraid it may not quite be factually accurate in some places, such are our syllabic restrictions.” 

She had no idea what a syllabic restriction was, but she didn’t ask for now as she took the book and began reading. As her eyes ran over his neat handwriting, she found tears starting to well in them once more.

3000 days I burnt inside,  Fire in my scars,  3000 days spent trapped below,  Dreaming of the stars.  Every night I longed to touch,  Each night I yearned to love,  And every fight I longed to find  Escape to life above.  Now finally I find I'm free,  Salvation came at last,  And now I sit beneath the trees  And look up at the stars.  But where before the love I sought  From anyone would do,  Now I find that in my mind  There's only thoughts of you.  Your kindness and your bravery,  Your courage and your wit,  Remind me there's good in the world, And you're the source of it.  These scars of isolation burn,  But your touch holds the cure,  The hugs I've missed, a stolen kiss,  They fill my dreams and more.  3000 days I spent alone,  But these dreams will soon be ours,  And when they are we'll dance my dear,  Underneath the stars.

“Gale…” she whispered, in shock. She couldn’t believe how well he’d captured how she felt. “This is… incredible…” 

“Thank you,” he said, inclining his head in a small bow. “I’m glad you like it. I hope you feel it’s accurately captured how you feel,” he added in a slightly softer tone. Writing a poem from someone else’s point of view wasn’t easy, especially someone who had been through so much. Though he did have some of his own experience of isolation that he could draw on… it was very different from hers of course, though there had been the odd thing she’d said that made him realise they had more in common than he’d thought. 

“It has,” she assured him. “Wyll is never gonna believe I wrote this,” she said with a laugh, shaking her head. 

“Well, tell him I helped you. Say we workshopped it,” he offered. She chuckled softly and looked at the poem again. 

“I can’t believe you wrote it so quickly,” she commented. 

“Ahh, well, I’ve had a lot of practice. Poetry has always been one of my favourite ways to express how I feel for the one I love,” he said, casting his mind back to the hours he’d spent on his balcony, writing poetry about whoever had captured his heart at the time, filled with love and inspiration. 

“Yeah? Your partners are very lucky, this is so romantic!” 

“Hmm, some were more appreciative than others,” he murmured, thinking mostly of Mystra, who’d never been interested in such things. He’d quickly given up writing any poems for her, she was far more interested in his magic. 

“Well anyone who doesn’t appreciate it isn’t worth your time,” Karlach decided firmly. Gale went very quiet for a moment. He still didn’t know how he felt about Mystra… up until getting abducted he was still firmly in love with her and desperate for her to return, but since this little adventure started he’d found Mystra occupied his mind less and less, his thoughts instead turning to someone new. 

“Perhaps you’re right…” he said quietly, though it wasn’t a revelation that came easily to him. 

“I am right. You trust Mama K on this,” she told him with a warm smile that he couldn’t help but return. 

“Thank you,” he said softly, touched that someone found his poetry to be worth appreciating. Karlach looked down at the book again, her eyes running over the words once more. 

“Hmm… maybe there is one bit I can change, you know, to make it more me ,” she said, holding her hand out for the quill. He gave it to her and leant over as she wrote, curious to see what change she would make. He watched as she crossed out the last line and replaced it with “Til you’re seeing stars”. 

“Perfect!” she declared happily. He had to chuckle slightly - he preferred his version from a poetic standpoint, but he had to admit, this was version definitely more Karlach. 

“Can I borrow this book?” she asked, looking over at him. “Til I’ve memorised it.”

He waved for her to give the book back to him. She did so and he carefully ripped the page out and handed it to her. It was certainly not something he’d normally do to a book, but he didn’t want her to feel pressured into trying to memorise it as quickly as possible to get the book back to him. 

“Thanks again, Gale,” she said, smiling as she looked at the page. “Once I can, I’m gonna give you a big ol’ hug for this!” 

“I can’t wait,” he said sincerely. “I’ll let you get going, then. I expect a dramatic reading once it’s memorised.” 

“You got it,” she said with a grin, then stood up and headed off. 

He stayed there for a bit, just the gentle sounds of the rustling leaves around him as Karlach’s words echoed in his mind. He’d honestly forgotten how much he enjoyed writing poems after getting so out of the habit of it during his time with Mystra. Maybe it was something to pick up again… especially if he had someone who would appreciate it. 

He looked down at the book, quill in hand, a small smile on his lips as he began writing an ode to the kind adventurer that had pulled him out of that portal not so long ago. 

[sillygo0fycl0wn]

hi! I’d love to hear your head canons about ryuk x matsuda (matsuryuk?) Like, who falls first, who falls harder, etc, etc. Thanks! :D

Hello omg yes, I’d love to share some headcanons about these two goobers!!

Haven’t been in a writing mood so sorry for any poor grammar/ maybe stereotypical or boring headcanons, but I’ll do my best! :D (Get ready for my massive yapping session 💪)

Spoilers for Death Note ahead!!

<3 <3 <3

• Their ship name is truly a conundrum.. I love ship names that have a bit more silliness to them that aren’t just the squashed together names of the pair but man I’ve been coming up blank for these two sadly :(( I did see someone mention “Applesuit” which I could get behind.. if anyone has any other ideas let me know I’ll 💍

• Matsuda was definitely the one who fell first without realizing it in the beginning, but something just clicked the minute he saw Ryuk and actually got to know the shinigami and his life. Matsuda is really the only person out of the Task Force who was interested in communicating with Ryuk that didn’t strictly involve interrogation - he was curious about other matters and that got them to delve into deeper conversations. It was sort of a strange thing to imagine in Matsuda’s mind that he was actually falling for a literal monster - a threat even who could kill him at any second - but that didn’t matter whatsoever. That monster was surprisingly nice and handsome of course 💅 His slight naivety probably helped push it forward some..

• Ryuk, on the other hand, wouldn’t really come to terms for his feelings for Matsuda until after Light died. Once returning to the shinigami realm, Ryuk went on feeling as if he were missing something in his life but kept pushing it aside as just his boredom until he physically couldn’t get the image of Matsuda out of his mind, figuring out just how dearly he missed the kindness and wonderful attitude from such a human. For the first couple of years, Ryuk stayed and decided to watch over Matsuda, becoming Gelus levels of obsession where he would rarely leave his post to follow the man around. After some time, Ryuk would gain his hands on another Death Note and in this AUish, headcanon world idea I’ve come up with, instead of going to Minoru in the time skip, he would latch onto Matsuda. Not only to spend more proper time with him but also for Ryuk’s slight amusement to see if Matsuda would be willing to use the Death Note to himself. I’d imagine, judging by how Matsuda saw that there was a sense of misguided goodness in Kira beforehand, would be persuaded to use the note although he uses it very sparingly to not bring attention to himself and of course only kills the worst of the worst.

• The question for who fell harder is a bit more complex because while Matsuda is way more outward with his emotions, becoming all giddy and flushed around Ryuk, I think that they still fell equally as hard for the other. Ryuk has this more softer yet still as passionate love for Matsuda, an emotion he can’t grasp until it hits him in the face.

• Matsuda was the only one out of the Task Force concerned in feeding Ryuk and he took this way more seriously than Light or probably anyone else would. Matsuda would be a massive stickler in trying to find the best, ripest, most juiciest apples he could possibly muster (and afford..) for Ryuk and this started the small spark in Ryuk’s brain toward Matsuda for being so thoughtful enough to try and find such wonderful apples.

• In return, Ryuk shows his appreciation with a tactic known as pebbling (something penguins do and I overall headcanon that this is one of the ways shinigami show their love - platonic or otherwise :3) Pebbling is essentially just an individual finding a cool looking rock to give to their partner/ friend. Anytime Matsuda brought Ryuk a brand new bag of apples, Ryuk would bring Matsuda rocks he found wherever he could. And obviously.. he kept them all 😔 Probably has a little chest and everything filled with nothing but damn rocks

• Matsuda definitely has a hard time concealing his feelings but since Ryuk doesn’t fully grasp the concept of human nature at first (particularly romantic feelings) + he doesn’t believe any human would ever love him, he’s quite oblivious if Matsuda gets super nervous around him or gets all flustered. Misa is the main one who notices and constantly teases Matsuda about it - again, Ryuk just blows it off, not accepting it as fact

• Ryuk seldom left Matsuda’s side during the days of the Task Force (unless forced to) and would often just stand over Matsuda’s shoulder, watching him work. He always cursed himself for getting genuinely excited whenever Matsuda came into work.

• Matsuda often helps out Ryuk in preening his feathers, really only in those hard to reach areas near the center of his back. This was one of their first more intimate moments together when, Ryuk - someone who rarely ever lets anyone touch his wings because he takes great pride in them - ask Matsuda for help in preening during the Task Force days. Lotsa trust there, but Matsuda does a great job at it. No matter how long it takes, he’s sure to be precise.

• Funny thing is that I headcanon shinigami do this to one another on occasion too (only the ones with feathered wings). This allopreening junk is mostly seen in a platonic way since sometimes you just can’t reach those nasty pin feathers 😔 But Ryuk tries to return the favor for Matsuda’s help and by return the favor he sort of.. grooms Matsuda in the way of licking his messy hair cat-style and making it all pretty with his saliva 🫶 good for you Ryuk. He tries 😔

• I don’t believe that Ryuk would ever sacrifice his life at the end of Matsuda’s for a couple reasons. One, Matsuda will still be a mortal being no matter if his life is extended past that previous death date, he will die eventually and there’s no going back against that. The only qualm is that Ryuk is now dead as well. Secondly, the life Matsuda would get after Ryuk’s sacrifice would not be one worth living due to the extensive amount of years that would be put on his person, essentially making him immortal and suffering for it in the process - something Ryuk definitely would never want to leave Matsuda with. However, since they have the mutual agreement that Ryuk will be the one to write Matsuda’s name down when it seems fit, Ryuk would be sure to make his death as painless as possible to ensure the best final ending for his human. Ryuk would, in a bittersweet moment, hold a dying Matsuda in his arms, knuckle gingerly brushing against his cheek, telling him that everything’s going to be alright - that type of angsty junk 😔

To more generalized headcanons..

• Ryuk adores the way humans are so warm and toasty because he has no natural pulse or bloodflow to keep his own body warm so in turn he feels like a literal icicle. He quite likes giving general touches to Matsuda once warming up to the man, particularly holding his hands and touching his face in gentle gestures. The two of them oftentimes will sleep together for this reason. Even though Ryuk doesn’t sleep, he willingly holds onto Matsuda and gets super cozy with how soothing his body temperature is. Matsuda doesn’t even mind the cold because (just like little ol me 💅) he’s always burning up at night so the two cancel each other out into nothing but comfort :3

• Speaking of their sleeping arrangements, their two main positions are holding one another in a tight embrace or having Matsuda sprawled out on top of Ryuk with his arms knitted around Matsuda’s waist.

• (CW: Light talk of panic attacks) Andd speaking of Ryuk’s cold natured self.. this comes in handy if Matsuda ever has really bad days where he may enter panic or otherwise anxiety attacks. One way to help someone refocus during a panic attack is with intense sensations such as holding an ice cube to shock the body into returning to reality. Ryuk is a horrible comforter, he never really knows how to communicate or verbalize properly, so the one way he can help is to hold Matsuda’s hands during these episodes to help calm him down. He’s also really good at making random talk in order to act as a distraction.

• These two cannot kiss each other if their lives depended on it- Matsuda, poor guy, has definitely not been in any serious relationships in his life besides for a couple dates here and there and so he’s a massive kiss virgin. Ryuk.. Where the hell would he find the time to smooch someone. As a result (plus the size difference between the two), they struggle to actually kiss each other without it looking like a hot ass mess.. but they learn and grown together in their relationship, slowly finding ways around it (I wouldn’t recommend making out with Ryuk tho those fangs lord nightmare right there 😬)

• Horrible kissers? Try also horrible bakers- They desperately want to make something for the other but can’t. Matsuda I can imagine wants to bake something simple such as an apple pie, but greatly messes it up and resorts to buying one from the store, while Ryuk tries to make something like breakfast for Matsuda one day only to nearly set the house on fire.. they do their best but unfortunately no dice 😔

• The size difference can come in handy though as Ryuk tends to show his affection in a bit of I suppose not a typical fashion when it comes to physical affection? He’s very handsy in the way that he won’t offer kisses, hand holding, or hugs, but will scoop Matsuda up in his arms and carry him around alongside putting the other in his lap or on his shoulder. He loves coming up behind Matsuda and just surprising him with a giant swoop into his arms. This also makes it easy for Ryuk to bring Matsuda to bed if he fell asleep out on the couch.

• Mmm cheesy love trope for these two - Ryuk calling Matsuda pet names in different languages (overall headcanon that shinigami can speak any language to communicate with all humans). Ryuk goes down the list of just saying “my love” in whatever language he can think of. Works on Matsuda way too well-..

• Ryuk loves to tease Matsuda whether he’s on a phone call, interacting with others that can’t see Ryuk, or just simply working - typically out in a public setting where Ryuk can distract Matsuda with tender touches, small whispers in his ear or even lighthearted kisses. The one time he’s perfectly happy with initiating the physical affection. He’s glad to rile Matsuda up in front of people without them knowing any better.

• Similarly, Ryuk always has to comment on whatever the hell is going on and this will make Matsuda laugh pretty much 100% of the time, often to his dismay because it’s at such inappropriate occasions

• Ryuk loves seeing him laugh though, it makes him happy :3

• Ryuk can’t obviously wear any of Matsuda’s clothes like in that stereotypical love trope way, but he will steal whatever he can get his hands on (shirts, jackets, etc) and snuggle up with them because he still loves the way they smell + Matsuda in general

• Ryuk likes to beg Matsuda for a bite of whatever he’s eating and Matsuda always obliges even though he knows Ryuk will grumble about how ‘nasty’ it is with his picky ass. He just does it to tease ✨

<3 <3 <3

A h a ranting aside, I tried to come up with as many as I could, I tend to be super blehh when it comes to pairing headcanons compared to just singular or species headcanons- Still hope you enjoy though! And thanks so much for making my brain go haywire with this ask 💪

[thebibliosphere]

ADHD reward system? Please tell me your secret!

My therapist has been helping me find a reward system that works for me, and as it turns out, gold star stickers are really helpful for making me feel like a tangible goal was met, and helps give me that sweet, sweet dopamine release that comes with completing a task, something which us ADHD’ers really struggle to achieve and are already coming at from a disadvantage with our brains regularly not producing enough “happy” hormones as it is.

It was supposed to be “a sticker for every time you finish a chapter”, but after some revision, my therapist said that was too tall of a goal, and that I should pick something smaller. So instead I now get a star every time I finish a 500-word milestone, placing the sticker in my writing calendar/journal thing that I use to keep track of my writing, and ironically, I have started to produce more work than when I was stiving for one chapter a day.

To give you an idea of how staggeringly effective this has been for me, I’ve written over 30k of original fiction in the last week. (75k total if you include my social media and blog stuff, which I currently do not but likely should.)

So this is what it looked like when I was attempting to do a chapter of edits and revisions a day during the month of December 2019 (note: I was supposed to start this in Nov, so you can see how well that worked out for me lol):

ID: A calendar showing days of the month with a shiny star sticker showing a completed task.

And this is what my writing journal looks like now that I’m doing a star for every 500 words:

ID: an image of a handwritten journal with the dates mapped out, followed by a shiny star sticker for every completed 500-word milestone. There are 65 stars in total for the month of January 2020. It’s also tinged by a green light cause I’m doing a chronic pain experiment, so far with positive results!

So as of today, January 8th, with ever star = 500 words, then 65*500 = 32500 words totalled in 7 days. This does not include, like I said, my social media output where I am far more productive, this is just my fiction and some editing work for friends.

(Which side note: this is not to flex, or to say that others should be able to achieve this level of output. I am a professional writer, this is my main job and only source of income. And also, I was forged in the fires of understaffed editing hell where we would be expected to churn out 100k+ a week in edits and revisions to keep on track. I have the time and a learned skillset I have spent years amassing to be able to do this and am working towards a rigid deadline. I simply have not been healthy enough in a long time to manage it, and am finally working my way back up to speed after years of illness. Don’t look at this and think, “I’m not achieving enough”, every victory no matter how small is worth celebrating. And I say that with the utmost sincerity, as someone who spent most of the last 2-3 years unable to get out of bed.)

I’ve also started using it to help keep track of bills and chores around the home. So every time something gets done/done on time, whoever completed the task gets a star on the calendar. This includes Oppy the Not-A-Roomba, who does a very good job of taking care of the house on a daily basis:

ID: an image of a chore calendar denoting various tasks that have been marked off with a holographic silver star sticker, including our robot vacuum who does an excellent job and deserves all the stars. (Our names got blurred out cause ETD doesn’t want his real name out there in the world, so that’s what is blurry.)

This system is useful for several reasons, the primary one being a sense of achievement and continued motivation, and the second, to allow you to review each month to see where you are doing well, and where you might otherwise be struggling.

For example, if I have a bad day for writing or decide to take a day off, I write that down in the calendar rather than leaving it blank, so that I have a record of what went wrong (or right, if I am electing to self care that day and take a day off) and how my overall progress is doing.

In terms of house stuff, this has been especially useful for ETD and myself, as it shows us where we are managing to do a good job with the house, and where our executive dysnfunction issues really trip us up and where we need to make improvements. And I don’t just mean in an “I should try harder way”, I mean you have to actively sit down and be like “hey! What is preventing me from completing this thing” and trying to figure out effective ways to either get around it or resolve a larger issue at hand.

So for us, the biggest thing we tend to miss is doing dishes after dinner, meaning we get left with a pile-up of dishes to deal with first thing in the morning, and my ADHD can’t handle that. It won’t let me eat until I’ve cleared all the mess, but I usually don’t have the energy to clean up if I haven’t eaten, so it’s this awful cycle of ineptitude. We’re doing better with the star reward system, cause it’s showing us our progress loud and clear on the fridge door, but we are both usually so fatigued and exhausted by the end of dinner that doing dishes is just one thing too many for our mutual disorders. So, the solution for this would, of course, be a dishwasher, cause if we had one of those, we could load stuff in, turn it on, and let those dishes get done while we go to bed then put them away in the morning. We can’t afford to do that right now, and we have other appliances we need to buy/replace before we can do that (still don’t have a tumble dryer, or a washer I can access, rip) but it does give us a tangible goal to work toward, and also, the motivation to keep on top of things because it goes from “an endless task with no end in sight” to “there’s a solution for this, we can manage a while longer.”

Now you could be saying, but Joy, I’m an adult! Surely I shouldn’t expect rewards for completing every day tasks that I should be able to do?!

To which I say, neurotypical people get rewards all the time and get an unconscious dose of dopamine/serotonin from their brains every time they complete a task. They’re playing the game of life on easy mode, the gold star is your achievement for completing it daily on Nintendo 99 hard mode. IF THE STICKER WORKS, TAKE THE STICKER

YOU’VE EARNED IT.

[amazingphanisnotonfire-imagines]

Steve//don’t look away until it’s gone

hey! based off this song! which is soooo good! is there anything luke hemmings can’t do? i don’t think so. anyway. enjoy! 

Steve wakes up with a start, his eyes wide and breathing ragged as he looks frantically around his darkened room. Memories of the past three years play behind his eyes, making him worry that he’s still there, stood in the mall, beaten, bruised and drugged with his best friends, watching what he thought was the end of the world.

But then he see’s through the trauma, and manages to make out the desk that hasn’t been used since he graduated, the blurry lamp and picture frame remind him that he is home, and that for now, he is okay. 

“Are you okay?” He smiles when he hears the sleepy mumble of your voice and he pulls his eyes away from the door, silently telling himself that the jacket hung on the hook is just that, that he isn’t 5 years old and that monsters do exist, but they don’t look like that. 

His eyes meet yours and you blink tiredly at him before yawning and scratching the back of your neck. The shirt you stole from him rides up a little, exposing a sliver of skin and his eyes are instantly drawn to it, it makes his breath hitch and you furrow your eyebrows, kicking the rest of the blanket off you and sitting beside him. 

He moves to allow you to get in, because why wouldn’t he and his arms instantly wrap around your waist, pulling you close and allowing you to rest your head on his chest. 

The sudden movement brings heat to your cheeks when you realize just how close you are to him, but when you feel him sigh underneath you, you understand why he’s so desperate to touch you. He needs to feel grounded, and so do you. 

Your eyes flutter closed, hoping to get at least an hour of sleep before you have to go home and pretend that everything is okay. But then you see Steve beaten and bruised, you hear Robin screaming and you can feel the hurt that El and Joyce are going through. You showered for at least an hour, trying to scrub all of the blood and dirt off your body, but the smell of death and fire still lingers, a part of you thinks it always will. 

And so your eyes snap open and you stare at the blank wall in front of you. 

“Steve?” You mumble. “Are you okay?” You repeat and he hums a reply while staring at the desk again. 

He pulls away and you shiver at the loss of contact. After what you’ve seen, the only thing you want is to be held and reminded that you are alive, you are here and you will see the sun rise again. Instead of sleeping, you’ve been waiting for the first rays to shine through Steve’s curtain, hoping and praying that when they do finally arrive, you’ll be able to breathe again. 

“Do you ever feel like the world is just moving on and leaving you behind? Like it’s 1985 and I still have no idea what I want to do, where I’m going or what I’m going to do when I get there?” 

“Yea-” 

“And I try to think what I’ve done for the past 19 years, and I’m missing so many memories and the ones I can remember just don’t feel like they’re mine. It’s like they’re all blurred and warped and I can see them, but I can’t feel them. I remember them, but I don’t remember living them. And the more I think, the more I forget and it feels like the walls are closing in on me and I’m running out of time to do anything. Most people my age are getting a degree, they have jobs some are even getting married, but well, I’m not.” He rambles, his breathing getting faster with each word and you place your hands on his shoulders to force him to look at you. 

“Steve. Steve? Look at me.” You say and he stares at you, his brown eyes full of fear and your expression softens as your stare at your best friend. “Steve. Everything is going to be okay.” You hug him tightly and he sighs, his eyes flutter closed as he lets himself get lost in you, for just a second, he feels like everything is going to be okay. He desperately wants to believe you, you’re Y/n, his best friend since you were both 2 and the only person who has never let him down, so why would you lie to him? 

Well, he thought monsters only existed in fairytales and he was wrong about that, so who knows. 

“I promise.” You add and he looks at you. His headache gets worse when he makes eye contact and he quickly drops it, it hurts too much to look at you. Your own bruised eye reminds him that he didn’t protect you enough, reminds him of another one of his disappointments. 

“Do you think I’m broken?” He asks and your lips part. He’s staring at you like you hold the answers to the universe, and to him, you do. Because you’re the most important person in the world, and if you think he’s broken, then it just confirms what he’s always thought. 

“Yes.” You nod and his heart breaks. “But I think we all are. I mean it would be weirder not to after everything we’ve been through.” You add and think back to the first time you were dragged into this. You only went to Jonathan’s as back up, just in case the two of them decided that they wanted to fight again, and they did, it’s just they were on the same team. 

And now you’re here, three years on and still doing the same thing. Still feeling like you’re winning only for it to come back the following year, stronger and angrier. You can already see your future, you know next year you’ll be fighting again, just just hope that you’ll be here again afterwards.  

With each year you watch the town gets smaller. Neighbours, family friends, kids that you graduated with, they’re no longer here. They either moved, or they never got the chance to. 

News crews stands on street corners, waiting for someone to walk by so they can get the latest story. They want to know how the town is healing after such a ‘tragedy’, if only they fucking knew. 

If only they knew that for the past three years you’ve watched your friends fight and die. You’ve watched the hope leave their eyes, you’ve watched the kids age ten years in ten hours, you’ve seen things nobody should have to see. And you’ve feared for your life more times than any normal person would. 

You’ve watched your best friend be beaten and tortured, and spent three hours tied to his lifeless body thinking he was dead, until he let out a horrible, raspy breath that made you cry from both relief and grief. It’s a sound that will haunt your for the rest of your life, it’s something you’ll always be reminded of every time you look at him. 

“What are we supposed to do now?” 

“Move on, I guess.” You shrug. “Or at the very least try.” You add and he lets out a small laugh. 

You lean your head on his shoulder and he rest his own on top. His eye aches, his head hurts and he feels dizzy whenever he breaths, maybe its the concussion, maybe its the fact that you’re so close to him, or maybe it’s a mixture of the two, but he doesn’t mind too much. It reminds him that he’s alive. 

The two of you stare out the window and watch as the first signs on sunlight cut through the blue curtains, both of you let out a sigh of relief and he grabs your hand, giving it a quick squeeze and a small smile pulls at your lips. 

“Yeah...okay. We can try.” 

support my writing! if you’d like! 

[manonblaqkbeak]

Sugar, sugar

(genuinely hate coming up with titles lol)

this is just rowaelin being pining idiots, one of my fave tropes for day 11--delayed love confession

just a note, the lifestyle in this fic is more of a background note and doesnt really take centre stage in this fic. it’s one ive been tempted to write for a while tbh but didnt really get around to it until now

cw: very, very light smut (like barely non existent, but just in case), a lil bit of swearing

enjoy! :)

3k words (officially my longest fic, yay!)

Every thought in Aelin's mind was blank. She trudged through her apartment that she shared with Nehemia, absentmindedly kicking off her heels that Rowan purchased for her months ago. Then the light jacket she wore joined the shoes, the fabric was perfectly soft and perfect for the autumn chill.

It was yet another piece of item that Rowan purchased for her. A lot of the things she had know were thanks to Rowan, either from his own wallet or from the biweekly allowance he sent her—a generous allowance that was a thousand times better than her weekly paycheck from the bookstore she'd been working at since she turned twenty-two; her business degree had turned out to be useless and so she turned to the bookstore that had been her stable job for three years.

Aelin barely touched her weekly wage now, it was practically buried underneath the money the Rowan gave her.

Because Rowan Whitethorn, thirty-five and a successful CEO who was well known, was her sugar daddy. Had been now for fourteen months. But he was more than that, more than just a man that paid her to spend time with him. He respected her, was loyal to her, listened to her and responded with actual sentences instead of a word or two like other men she had dated. He was charming, didn't treat her like she was nothing but arm candy, and she knew him so well, as he knew her, and each fortnight she sometimes forgot their whole arrangement, but she was sharply reminded when she received the notification from her bank that the two and a half thousand dollars that Rowan sent her was now in her savings account.

When she agreed to their arrangement after several get-to-know you dates, Rowan had wanted to give her three and a half grand every week, and gods Aelin had been tempted because she had never had so much money in her life, but told him that it was far too much and negotiated.

Two and a half thousand was the lowest that Rowan was willing to go, and even though Aelin only knew him for two weeks at that point, she could tell that he would not budge, so she agreed to the amount.

The first time that money had landed in her account, Aelin had thought that maybe she had imagined the whole thing, but the money was a sharp reminder of what she know was—a sugar baby. Those words still didn't feel like they applied to her.

And he still spent money on her when they spent time together. Just last week he gifted her with diamond earrings in the shapes of roses with a necklace to match. She wore them tonight, not because he bought them for her but because she genuinely loved the pieces.

Needing something sweet—despite the fact she had only finished her chocolate hazelnut gelato twenty minutes ago—she dug through her fridge and found the brownies that Nehemia had baked the other day. She told herself that she would leave some for her long-time friend, but Aelin really doubted that would happen.

Aelin relished in the cold air of the fridge as she found the new can of whipped cream on the top shelf. The fridge was one of the first things she purchased with the money she was now being gifted with (and after that came a new washer and dryer, a dish-washing machine and television. Almost everything in her apartment was brand new now, the food were actual brands instead of the generic, tasteless shit. She had bras that fit her properly and were so damned comfortable that she forgot she was wearing them half the time).

The old fridge was a cheap hunk of junk that she and Nehemia purchased off Facebook marketplace for a hundred dollars, it barely kept things cold, but with expensive rent and bills and general life things, Nehemia and her couldn't afford anything better.

Which was how she ended up in this situation. Picking up more shifts barely gave them anything extra, because the economy right now in Terrasen was shit. Nehemia had made a joke about needing sugar daddies, and Aelin, knowing that Nehemia could never really do such a thing, had decided that maybe it was a good idea.

Nehemia had told Aelin that she was insane for pursuing such a thing, and that she had only been joking, but Aelin was not and that she could handle herself if things went wrong.

Nehemia had told her not to do anything, but Aelin was determined and started her search. It had taken a while to find a website that was genuine and didn't make her feel like she had to scrub her eyes out with bleach.

She created her page in private, because she not only was Nehemia against the idea, but so was Elide and Lysandra—she didn't dare tell Aedion what she was doing. Her cousin could be an overprotective pain in her ass at times, and Aelin was very well aware that if Aedion caught wind of what she was doing, he would have locked her up in her room without any type of device so she couldn't go forward with her plan.

She appreciated their concern, she did, but she was a consenting, tax-paying adult, and if she wanted to use her time to get paid spending time with a rich man, then Aelin was allowed to do exactly that.

It wasn't prostitution, she had looked it up, because it was the sugar babies that had the power and so that was how it went with her and Rowan.

Aelin didn't even have sex with Rowan until it was the sixth month anniversary of her and Rowan's...relationship (and gods, it was the best sex Aelin ever had. Rowan was a generous and completely unselfish lover).

He was the first one she came across on the site and almost drooled down herself when she saw his picture. Silver hair, pine-green eyes, a beautiful tattoo down the length of his left arm and tanned skin, he was stupidly attractive and only ten years old than her.

Aelin messaged him first only after being on the site for ten minutes, deciding that surely he was the best one and that she needn't bother to look at any other candidates.

They hit it off straight away, and after deciding on a restaurant to meet at, Aelin had informed Nehemia of the matter, which she was promptly met with question after question: why can't a thirty-four year old man find someone his own age? Is he one of those men that can't date a woman five minutes older than him because of some stupid made up reason? How do you know for certain that it's him in the picture? What if he's cat-fishing you? What if he's a freak, or a killer? What if he's just pretending to be rich to kidnap you? What if, what if, what if?

And so after a heated discussion, Nehemia had come along on her date-that-wasn't-really-a-date and sat a few tables away from her and Rowan, watching them—especially him—the entire time like a hawk.

Aelin had completely forgotten that her friend was there, so enraptured by Rowan and what he did and how he saw life.

It had been fourteen months of seeing Rowan and genuinely enjoying spending time with him and weeks ago, she realised that she wanted it to be something more. That she had come to care for him, not because of the money, but purely because it was Rowan and he made her feel seen and he wasn't afraid of her, because she had once been told by an ex that she could be too much and that he couldn't handle all her baggage.

Aelin wanted a life with him.

So Aelin told Rowan she loved him when he dropped her off tonight after their dinner and a movie date, telling him how she felt, and he had said thank you. He gave her a chaste kiss on the cheek and went home, leaving behind the pine-and-snow scent of him.

Aelin really wanted to find a hole to crawl into and die.

She was scarfing down her third brownie when Nehemia's bedroom door opened, her friend clad in an old matching pj set, her slippers shuffling across the tile.

“What happened? Are you okay?” her friend asked upon seeing Aelin's guttered look. Her dark brows furrowed. “Did that bastard hurt you? If he did, I'll—”

“He didn't do anything,” Aelin interrupted her friend. Taking the food, Aelin planted herself on the teal blue velvet sofa Rowan gave her for Yulemas last year, ignoring the scent of not just him, but of them both from when he came over after work just the other day with pizza and a DVD that she insisted that she watched because it was too good not to, when they forgot all about the movie as Rowan buried himself inside her, leaving hickeys all over her neck that she had to cover up with thick concealer.

Nehemia joined her on the couch, her friend momentarily forgetting for now that she had walked in on her and Rowan just moments after they finished, muttering under her breath in Eyllwe as she glared at them defiling the couch, and gave her a look that Aelin knew that Nehemia would listen to every word that came out from her.

And when Aelin was done recounting the story, all Nehemia could come up with was, “Oh.”

“Yes, 'oh,'. I've probably fucked up the whole thing. So don't be surprised if I call you on your lunch break tomorrow telling you he's broken things off.”

“Aelin, I don't think he will. I know that I'm not the biggest fan of your...situation—”

“I'm aware,” Aelin said, cutting her friend off. “You still won't let me buy you a new mattress, even though yours is hard as a brick and lumpy as hell. I've told you that you can pay me—”

“Aelin,” Nehemia said, “we're not talking about mattresses right now. As I was saying, I doubt he'll break things off because I've seen the way he looks at you. I still think he's too old for you, but he cares for you. You probably just caught him by surprise.”

“How does he look at me?” Aelin was observant, but sometimes when she was with Rowan, all her observation skills went out the window.

“Like he loves you,” Nehemia said, no hint of doubt in her voice.

Aelin sighed, her feelings slowly starting to crush her. “I guess I'll just have to take your word for it.”

Sighing once more, Aelin put the food back in the fridge, showered and went to bed, forgoing her usual night texting ritual with Rowan.

She really wasn't looking forward to tomorrow.

X X X X X X

Rowan couldn't concentrate, which wasn't a good thing, since his job dealt with having to concentrate all the time. But no matter what mind-focusing techniques he did, he couldn't stop thinking about Aelin.

Couldn't stop thinking about how she said she was in love with him. How her beautiful eyes had been sparkling when she said those words to him. And how the light in them dimmed when he said thank you and kissed her on the cheek, telling her that he would talk to her later. But he hadn't texted her, nor did she.

I love you, Rowan. I'm in love with you.

Thank you. He really couldn't believe that was what he said. Felt like an utter fool and a bastard as he realised he probably crushed her heart. Aelin didn't like being vulnerable, and she had been when she said those words and he had gone and fucked it all up.

Rowan loved Aelin, he did, but he truly wasn't prepared for those words. He loved how on the weekends they would be up at one am, baking chocolate goodies, dancing in the quiet kitchen, humming quietly to Aelin's classical music playlist, with her wearing not the nightgowns that he loved, but one of his old hoodies.

He didn't think that he would get along with her so well once they met, thinking that their online interactions were nothing but a fluke. He was moments away from deleting the profile because he didn't actually create it, but Fenrys had, his friend grumbling that he needed a girlfriend, with Rowan arguing that creating a profile on a sugar daddy site was not dating but probably the opposite, when Aelin messaged him.

His life-long friend didn't listen, much to Rowan's annoyance—but he didn't grab his phone out of his friends hand; Rowan blamed it on the several whiskys he had downed by that point.

Aelin bewitched him on that first meet up. She was intelligent as hell and funny, and creative and beautiful. He was aware of why she was on the date with him, but he didn't care, just as long as he got to see her again.

Fourteen months later and Rowan was still bewitched. He wanted to be with her on a permanent basis, but wasn't completely sure how to take that step.

Clearly, Aelin had taken that step for them, and Rowan was the worlds biggest moron.

I love you, Rowan. I'm in love with you.

Thank you.

Groaning, Rowan turned away from his computer and looked at the skyline, ignoring the buildings to instead watch the puffy clouds drift by.

Aelin loved watching the clouds, loved stargazing, loved questioning about the universe and what the skies held.

He never really paid any of that stuff attention, not until he met her.

Rowan didn't want to lose her, didn't want her to think that he was about to break up with her over this. He had to see her, so he grabbed his keys and wallet, told his secretary to hold his calls for the rest of the day, and went to visit Aelin.

X X X X X X

It had been an usually busy day for a Wednesday and Aelin was glad for her lunch break as she trudged up to the roof of the shopping centre. She wasn't really allowed up here, but she wanted some fresh air and to feel the sun against her skin as she sat down and dug into her lunch—fast food, unfortunately for her, because she was so frazzled from last night that she completely forgot about making a pack lunch.

Rowan hadn't called her, or texted her. Not even an email had been sent her way.

Aelin hated that she felt so damned mopey. She was an independent woman, but gods, even a good morning text would have been fine.

She finished her lunch, popping several mints into her mouth to get rid of the onion taste, when the roof door crashed open and a familiar hulking figure came into view.

He must have spoken to Elide to find her here.

Aelin's brow furrowed. “Rowan, what are you doing here?” Oh gods, surely he wasn't going to break up with her, she still had hours to go; there'd be no way she could work if she had tears in her eyes.

Taking her hands in his, Aelin stood up. She steeled herself against whatever he was going to say.

“I love you, Aelin. I'm in love with you, too,” Rowan said, his eyes soft and full of genuine love. Aelin's heart shot up into her throat. “I want a life with you. I want us to buy a home, one that has warmth and character, and a big garden. I want a dog. And kids too, if you want, I know that you've never mentioned it, but if you don't want any then that is completely fine. I want to support you in whatever endeavors you want to take, and if you ever want to go back to university, then I'll support you, or if you want to find a way to use your business degree, I'll help you with that, too. Whatever you want Aelin, I'll give it to you, as long as you're by my side, I'll be happy.”

Aelin was silent for so long that Rowan thought that maybe he shocked her into silence. But eventually, she smiled, one that was dazzling in its beauty that it took his breath away.

“You love me?”

“I do, Aelin, I love you.”

She kissed his cheek. “Thank you.”

Rowan groaned at the amusement in her tone, in her eyes. “You're never going to let me live that down, are you?”

She smirked. “Definitely not. It'll be a nice story to tell our children...one day. For now, I think we should contend with being proper significant others.”

Rowan nodded, smiling. “I like the sound of that.”

“Good, because I need to get back to work, since I'm no longer accepting your allowances. I won't deny the use of your credit card, but other than that, you are no longer my sugar daddy.”

It was Rowan's turned to smirk, and it was the one that made her core clench. “How about I be 'daddy' instead?”

Aelin snorted, even as she clenched around nothing again. Smacking his arm lightly, Aelin kissed him. “Only if you behave,” she said against his lips, “and now I really need to go back to work.”

Rowan walked her back, their fingers laced together, and as she turned to say goodbye, Aelin said, “I'll see you later, daddy.”

Rowan groaned, and it took everything in him not to take her hand and into his car to have his wicked way with her.

By the time he thought of a response, Aelin was already back to work, helping a customer with an impressive stack of books in her arms.

But she knew he was still there, because the way she swayed her hips to the counter was all for him, and when she saw him watching her, Aelin winked, making Rowan's heart flutter in his chest.

He really did love her. And he would live with her teasing him for the rest of his life, just as long as she was with him.

[mingoyeob-archive]

Can you please do:

53: "We're stuck in the middle of a storm and all you want to do is play in the rain,"

41: "Dance with me,"

61: "If you keep looking at me like that I won't be able to handle myself,"

45: "Take.It.Off"

With Jungkook and reader.💜

Loads of love✨

under the oak tree drabble game ⚔️🌳 to make up for my delayed release of part 3 of under the oak tree i’ve decided to do a drabble game! send me a number + any of the characters from under the oak tree and i’ll write you a drabble :)

thank you so much for sending in a request 💜 💜 I love that you sent in multiple prompts cause it allowed me to really develop the story! I kinda went crazy with it tho, can you call 2.5k a drabble? idk but I hope you enjoy!

53: "We're stuck in the middle of a storm and all you want to do is play in the rain," + 41: "Dance with me," + 61: "If you keep looking at me like that I won't be able to handle myself," + 45: "Take.It.Off" - jjk x reader - word count: 2.5k

Your body swayed back and forth in your seat as the carriage wheeled over bumpy roads and rocky dirt paths. It had you gripping tightly to the underside of the leather seat to prevent yourself from falling to the hard cabin floor. Your gaze stayed trained out the window, watching the trees go by and the rain pouring down creating puddles along the roads. The small drops on the glass had your eyes zeroing on them, watching as they raced back and forth towards the edge of the carriage door. Oh how I tire of this dreadful weather you mused, a frown settling on your face at the thought.  Jungkook grunting as if to catch your attention was the only thing that had your head turning away, meeting dark brown pools that filled steely eyes.

“Are you upset with me?”

Any other day his question would have had you scrambling to pacify his concern, but today, your foul mood had you holding your tongue. Of course you were upset, he was taking you to the one place you hated the most - home. Well, what used to be your home, Uwhen felt more like your home now than that place ever did.

You fixed him with a blank stare. “Yes.” you say, voice monotonous and lacking any obvious emotion.

Your blunt response had Jungkook's eyes slowly widening as he registered just how bad he had fucked up. He never would’ve guessed you’d be this upset, he was doing this for you after all. When Jungkook first got the invitation to attend one of your fathers council meetings to oversee the trades occurring with other kingdoms he was completely set on denying the request; he was never one to meddle into things that didn’t directly affect his people. But one of his own advisors, Seokjin, had reminded him that as the new Duke it technically was one of his responsibilities to be there. Plus, according to him, a good opportunity to get you out of the castle.

“If I was her, I’d want to get out of here as soon as possible!” He had said comically, laughing at his own terrible joke loud and squeaky like. Jungkook frowned at the memory.

Had you said something to him about wanting to leave? he had wondered. Even though you hadn’t (you barely even knew the man), Jungkook’s worries continued to spiral out of control and he hastily had sent your father confirmation that he would be there and that he was taking you with him. He hesitated with his response trying to find the right words to make sure he didn’t make the situation worse. “I’m sorry I assumed you would be ha-”

Bang!

Jungkook's apology was interrupted by the loud sound of something cracking, the two of you launching off your seats as the carriage immediately leaned over on its side. The crash had you two falling out of your seats onto creaking wood, bodies crumpling onto one another and limbs draped everywhere. You had let out an oof at the fall, but Jungkook had seemed unfazed and if anything more pissed off than dazed. It took you a minute to gather your bearings, trying to determine which way was up and which way was down, but as soon as you did you realized you were staring directly into Jungkook's eyes, body sprawled across his chest.

It seemed like he had made an effort to try and catch you during the fall and somehow his arm had found its way around your waist, huge hand unintentionally landing directly on your ass. Your face heated up immediately. “Jungkook, your hand.” he just quirked an eyebrow, oblivious to what you were referring to which only served to make you more annoyed. "Take.It.Off"

He looked confused for a second before finally registering where his mischievous hand had strayed. Despite how he was internally freaking out, his hands had calmly retracted and instead moved to your shoulders to lift you back into your seat as if you were as light as a feather, catching you off guard. You could only sit there surprised at the action, watching as Jungkook’s giant figure struggled to stand up in the cabin, neck bending to duck out of the cabin when he opened the door.

“What the hell happened out here?!”

“I’m sorry my Lord, but it seems one of our wheels got stuck in a hole and broke its bearing.” The coachmen muttered embarrassed, cringing at the obvious anger that showed across Jungkook’s face. The driver's words had you sticking your own head out of the door, flinching as the ice cold rain immediately started drenching you.

“Well how long will it take you to fix it?!” Jungkook questioned irate.

The man avoided Jungkook's fiery gaze, rubbing at his neck, “Considering the craftsman isn’t until the next town, I’m not quite sure. We’d have to walk the rest of the way unfortunately and that could take the rest of the day and probably into the night, sir.”

Jungkook let out a groan, obviously upset with the coachmens words. He threw his hands up, turning in his spot to kick at the edge of the broken down carriage only to just notice that you had stepped out into the rain yourself. Immediately he walked over, boots stumping in the mud. “Get back in the carriage Y/N.”

You scoffed, “No way, you heard the man. We’ll have to walk and you’re not leaving me out here by myself to wait for you to return with a damn wheel.” You glared up at him, neck straining to look up and meet his gaze confidently. “Besides I think I can handle a little rain by now.”

“Rain has nothing to do with it. I didn’t plan on leaving you, I’m staying here. He can walk to the town by himself,” The driver let out a sound of alarm at his statement to which Jungkook paid no mind to. “He can send word to your father to get another carriage to escort us the rest of the way.”

“Jungkook, staying here would be the worst thing to do and getting my father involved would just be a nuisance and you don’t want to make him upset, do you? We can just stop at an inn and stay till the morning.” You were obviously trying to stop Jungkook from continuing the journey to your father. But he didn’t know that of course and he actually began to mull over the idea. The two of you stood in the rain for a moment glaring at each other, waiting for one of you to give up. When he realized that he wasn’t going to win, he let out a grunt, spinning on his heel to trudge down the path. The driver stared back and forth between the two of you, confused about what just happened. You just smiled at your plan actually working and followed behind him, satisfied with your accomplishment.

For a while the three of you walked, completely soaked from the relentless downpour with clothes clinging to your bodies. Thankfully it began calming down as you continued on the road, but the mood surrounding everyone was still tense. You could tell Jungkook was still upset as he had never stopped glowering at the forest ahead, eyebrows furrowed and jaw tense. His bristly mood had you sighing, perhaps it was time for you to try and break the ice.

“Jungkook.” you called from behind his towering figure, stopping in your tracks. He didn’t immediately respond, but after realizing you had halted he turned to look over his shoulder, offering you a grunt in question.

“Dance with me.” you say with a smile, beaming despite his obvious annoyance.

He merely arched a brow, finally facing you to stare at you blankly. Jungkook crossed his arms, “What?” he said.

You giggled, “I said dance with me!” you did a small spin in your spot, lips tilting up at the corners as you extended a hand in his direction. He just looked at it, face void of emotion.

“We're stuck in the middle of a storm and all you want to do is play in the rain.”

He sounded dreadfully confused, but that didn’t deter you from your mission. “Yes! In my opinion, mud makes for an excellent dance floor.” your voice dripped with excitement and when he didn’t show any sign of taking your hand you just took it upon yourself to take his hand from his folded arms and pulled him forward (it barely moved him but you get the jist).

Jungkook sighed and tried to stand his ground as you pulled relentlessly on his arms. The sound of your feet splashing in the mud made him cringe but regretfully he started moving to the beat you seemed to have made up in your head. You two spun in circles and moved back and forth down the path, making up your own dance as you went. The coachmen watched amused from the sidelines, clapping along to the two of you to mimic the sound of music. You knew Jungkook was trying to look like he was still upset, but you could tell it was an act and that he was starting to warm up to the idea as you went along. His arms started to loosen and his back started to untense, shoulders relaxing to make it easier for you to pull him along. He was even biting back a smile at the sound of your cute sounds and the hums you were letting out in tune to the drivers rhythm. At that moment Jungkook thought you looked absolutely enchanting.

Despite the hair stuck to your face, the bottom of your dress covered completely in mud and lingering scent of mildewy smelling soaked wet cotton, the drops of water stuck to your long lashes and the flush in your cheeks trumped all of those things. He had never seen you smile so hard or look so comfortable in his arms. Besides the accidental fall back at the carriage, this was the first time you had been this close to him since your wedding night and he could feel the heat radiating from your body, your hearts beating to the same rhythm. He truly felt like you were his.

So he watched as you continued to spin, laughs full of glee escaping past your lips. You even had the nerve to stick your tongue out in an effort to catch raindrops, showing off the long expanse of your throat and jutting collarbones. The sight had something stirring in him. And you must’ve noticed the change in his face because you stopped in your step, smile calming and eyes softening. You could tell he was deep in thought, so you didn’t feel the need to speak just yet. Instead, you just looked at him, eyes gazing up at him and swimming with admiration. Your shining irises peeking up below your lashes had your stare coming off as almost sultry and he felt his pulse quickening. When you picked up on the shift in his mood you decided to speak up. “Is something the matter, Jungkook?” you questioned, looking up with wide eyes. You looked so innocent. He knew it was wrong, but he wanted so bad to corrupt you.

Jungkook pulled you so close you had to strain your neck to stare up at him just before he dipped his head down, lips so close to touching. "If you keep looking at me like that I won't be able to handle myself."

Your breath caught in your throat and your face was full of surprise as you just stared at him speechless. It was almost as if you two were having some type of heated conversation with the way his dark eyes connected to yours. The tension was undeniable. But you two seemed to have forgotten that you guys weren’t the only ones out there on that dirt road, and the sound of the driver clearing his throat had you two stepping apart.

“Are you guys um...ready to keep heading towards the inn?” he mumbled, obviously uncomfortable. The two of you couldn’t answer fast enough.

“Yes!”

[scribblingfangirl]

WITH LOVE, THE GOSTS | Julie and The Phantoms - Part Three

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Author’s Note: I decided that this fic trilogy occurs a year after the season one final, making Julie and Y/N almost (or already) 17. Also… this part turned out waaay longer than expected. Which is why there is going to be a fourth part because I have one last idea but didn’t want to rush to write it. And to think this all started because of a rushed (haha) 1k Oneshot. I should really start to write more spontaneously, it seems like good things come out of it. Anyway, Enjoy! :D

Songs mentioned in this chapter (in this order): Now or Never & Wake Up by JaTP | Don't Stop Me Now by Queen | Rude by MAGIC! | Don’t Laugh At Me by Mark Wills | Don’t You Worry ’Bout a Thing by Tori Kelly | Still Learning by Halsey | Ayo Technology by 50 Cent | My version of My Name Is Luke by Trevor Wilson | Let’s Forget About It by Lisa Loeb | Let's Just Get Naked Lyrics by Joan Osborne | Hey by Pixies

word count: ~ 3.9k

summary: Even after meeting the boys they still aren’t tired of helping you out and they each have their own little ways to do it.

warnings:  // (english is not my first language, not beta-read)

| PART ONE | PART TWO |

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Knowing that ghosts existed was an absurd feeling (even though you had always believed or hoped that there was more out there than just this world, especially with all those planets that had been discovered by NASA), but knowing that there were three certain ghosts that liked you enough to kindly haunt you, well… that was just plain unimaginable somehow. Yet, still less anxiety awakening than you expected. 

After Julie let you meet the guys for the first time you thought you were prepared to accept that you would not be able to talk to them unless they played something (after all, you had Flynn to groan about that), but the occasional giggle from Julie and her glances into nothing still sent chills down your spine.

So you started to always look around very suspiciously whenever you were over at her house and make obscene hand movements just to be sure that the boys would move before you walked somewhere or sat down (which just earned chuckles from Flynn and annoyed sighs from Julie - “Just because you can’t see them, doesn’t mean they can’t see you. They know where you are, so please stop, or else my dad will call your parents and send you to Dr Turner as well.” The boys found it hilarious and liked to imitate you whenever they came too close to you.) 

The boys also still kept doing little things for you, just not so in secret anymore (though… Reggie was never one for subtlety). Whenever you seemed to have had a bad day (or whenever they just wanted to make you smile) you knew you could count on them having something prepared for you. 

You soon discovered that anything related to food (which sometimes were extremely odd and bizarre combinations) was Luke’s doing (except for pizza and meatballs, according to Julie that was always Reggie). And you knew it was Alex whenever it was something more calm and soothing, yet sometimes a little bit clumsy. And whenever it was blatantly obvious and/or slightly weird (in a good way!) it was Reggie. 

Well, no. Not always in a good way. One time you came back from school and your whole room was filled with glitter and butterflies and a small note with a little ‘Sorry!’ on it was pinned to your desk - cleaning that had been a pain in the a-. But you couldn’t be angry at Reggie, even though you weren’t quite sure what his ultimate goal would have been. 

Speaking of REGGIE...

All those helpful little deeds and nice gestures were always done within the limits of your house (mostly room) or Julie’s house and the studio, which is why you almost let out a loud yelp when suddenly during a math test your pen started to move on his own, filling out the empty space (because yes, you hadn’t been doing very much other than staring helplessly at the paper in front of you). Quickly you grabbed the pen as well (loosely and while trying to ignore the fact that you were practically holding hands with one of the guys) so that nobody would see a floating pen as you did a few weeks ago at Christmas.

From the corners of your eyes, you saw Julie slightly move her head towards you, as if she was listening to you - or rather someone right beside or behind you. ‘Of course. I can’t see them, so the only way to help me is by physically grabbing the pen, but Julie can hear and see them, so they (whoever this is - because let’s be honest, none of the guys really looks like a math genius) only have to tell her the corrects solutions and how to get there. My money’s on Alex.’

You were kind of shocked, and weirdly proud when Julie came up to you after class and said: “Reggie’s not so questionable after all, huh?” (Though… you should’ve guessed it, you did say subtlety wasn’t Reggie’s strong suit.) So you just giggled and shook your head while leaving some of your books in your locker (alongside the fact that Reggie was probably almost (if not!) hugging you from behind - you shuddered at that thought, it’s not like you were already awkward around living boys your age, no need to add ghosts to that list!)

A week later you and Julie entered the studio with blank faces and hanging shoulders. Julie threw a weak little wave towards the piano and sighed while you threw the blankets and snacks you were holding carelessly on the ground and let yourself fall face-first onto the couch, not being able to hide your smile anymore.

“We got our math exams back… yes the one Reggie helped us with.”

You couldn’t see what Julie was doing, but you heard her gasp and whisper “No! Reggie…” after a while. Then she was standing beside you, nudging your shoulder and willing you to sit up, but you didn’t bulge, needing a few more seconds to wipe the smile off your face again.

Faking to disgruntledly accept defeat as Julie’s nudges got stronger (the couch was really comfortable, you totally understood Luke now) you sat up and looked at Julie. “Who’s going to tell them?” you said with a heavy voice and felt how the couch dipped beside you. Raising your eyebrows you quickly glanced to the side (obviously not seeing anybody or anything) and looked back at Julie questioningly. 

She nodded, telling you that it was indeed Reggie and gave you the okay to drop the bomb.

You sighed as you turned back around, facing the wall on the other side of the studio and hoped that Reggie would ignore the fact that you were probably talking to his ear or something. “So Reggie… the help you gave us on the math final? Well…,” you couldn’t keep your face straight any longer and jumped onto the couch, “WE ACED IT! I WOULD HUG YOU IF YOU WEREN’T MADE OUT OF CUTE AIR!” (Okay… maybe there was a little bit too much serotonin involved.)

Julie added smiling, “And I’m happy to announce that due to my good grades my father allowed Julie and The Phantoms to play at the upcoming Summer Music Festival!”

A guitar riff filled the studio, followed by a short drum intro and with a ‘puff!’ the boys appeared in front of you, beaming and glowing at the news. Reggie even threw a wink at you when you smiled back and said: “Thank you!”

Don't look down 'Cause we're still rising Up right now And even if we hit the ground We'll still fly Keep dreaming like we'll live forever But live it like it's now or never!

This allowed LUKE…

The music festival was an experience you would never forget. You were very happy Ray managed to persuade your parents to let you accompany Julie (sadly Flynn had no such luck). Not only did you turn 17 and the boys made sure to have the whole crowd sing ‘Happy Birthday’ to you (as soon as you were back home you would add an extra point to your to-do: ‘find out how to kill ghosts a second time’), but the boys rocked the stage and Julie stood up taller and shined brighter than ever before. 

Gone (yet not forgotten) were the painful shocks and the fear of never performing again and the serenity of the guys was visible. 

It was the last night of the music festival when Julie got the phone call from her father. He would come by to get her the next morning and they would drive directly to visit other family members and spend the rest of the summer holidays there. 

Of course, Julie was excited to see her cousins and aunts and uncles again, but she also felt bad to leave you to drive back alone (you had come with your car jam-packed with all the necessary equipment you needed and that wasn’t provided by the festival).

“Don’t worry! It’s only a four-hour drive! I’ve got good music, podcasts and audiobooks to keep me company and back home Flynn will be waiting. It sadly looks like I’m going to survive without you.” 

Early the next morning Julie and some newfound fans of Julie and The Phantoms helped you load the equipment into your car and you said goodbye to Julie. Expecting the boys to just directly puff back to Los Feliz you didn’t waste any time and entered your car, connected your phone with the stereo and started to blast your favourite Broadway musicals.

You must’ve been on the road for half an hour when suddenly the playlist stopped and ‘Wake Up’ started to play.

So wake that spirit, spirit!

Confused you scrunched up your nose and touched the touch screen displaying the music system, trying to change it back to your playlist. But instead, the music changed yet again.

(Don't stop me now) 'Cause I'm having a good time (Don't stop me now) Yes, I'm havin' a good time I don't want to stop at all

“What the hell?” you muttered, staring at your stereo for a quick second before focusing back on the road, “Why you always going crazy on me dude?”

Once again the music switched.

Why you gotta be so rude? Don't you know I'm human too?

It took you a hot minute to understand what was going on and then you couldn’t stop laughing. 

Don't laugh at me, don't call me names Don't get your pleasure from my pain

“Oh, I’m sorry,” you said mockingly, looking at the empty passenger seat, guessing that that’s where your invisible friend was sitting. “Your pain? I’m not the one who is able to puff wherever and whenever their heart desires and who sneaks up on innocent people.”

Silence. 

“For what it’s worth. I’m sorry. I really am. It’s not like you choose this life, you deserved better than this. But I’m really glad I was able to get to know you. I’m really thankful for the light and happiness you brought back into Julie’s life.”

Don't you worry 'bout a thing

But I'm still learnin' to

using technology

You laughed. “Impressive skills nevertheless. Knowing three fitting songs and then changing them at the right time? Let me guess, Luke? Because I don’t think all of you three would fit into my tiny car full of musical equipment.”

At first, there was no music yet again, but then the slow melody of a (for you) well-known song flooded your car. It was the one Trevor Wilson song you never understood until you met the boys, the one song that was so totally different to his usual rock sound (except for the refrains, which, as you later would find out, were parts of the original lyrics Luke wrote for his version of the song).

I sing to remember the stories that used to be But I don’t write to create what could have been And as I scream words into the darkness around me They come out like a dying whisper

The kindest thing to do is to silence them and let them die To unleash my heartfelt sorrow into the sky  And diminish the will to fight That pulses like fire and screams with pain through my veins

But life’s not always beautiful, it’s rare So I’mma chase it, watch you make it

Don’t need to introduce himself You will want to know his name Pushing your foundations down  He is here to stay

Don’t call him a breeze when he’s a hurricane Don’t call him a tremble when he’s an earthquake Don’t call him an inconvenience Please just say his name

Leaving lyrics in my hands That I swallow like pills Like hurtful words, they rip and claw And press painfully against my chest

But no matter how painful they are I will soak them up, thinking of our hopes and wishes And as each word pushes a new pulse through my veins I keep staring out on the grave of our shared space of mind

Life’s not always beautiful, but it’s rare So I’mma chase it, watch you make it

Don’t need to introduce himself You will want to know his name Pushing your foundations down  He is here to stay

Don’t call him a spark when he’s a lightning bolt Don’t call him a flicker when he’s a raging flame Don’t you dare to underestimate him Please just say his name

But even when the word flood finally comes to an end Fidgeting hands remind me of music never played

I owe him my voice I owe him my sound

So I give him this time I give him this space To sing it out loud To let him declare And let me be proud

What’s his name? (His name is Luke!) What’s his name? (His name is Luke!) What’s his name? (His name is Luke!)

How long do we say his name? (Until we explode!)

My name is Luke! (Tell your friends!)

Tears were rolling down your cheeks, the song now more emotional than ever before. You couldn’t imagine how this song must affect Luke. Thinking that his bandmate abandoned him (which honestly… he kind of did, only mentioning him in one song, not giving any money to their parents and so on) up until he heard the song for the first time.

“Luke…”

Forget about it Let's forget about it

The ensuing silence wasn’t awkward. You hummed along to the music Luke selected, sometimes it were old classics (probably his favourites), other times it seemed to be random newer hits he probably never heard before mixed with some songs from your favourite playlists.

It was nearing midday and your stomach made itself known. As if on cue a road sign hinted at a diner just up ahead. Setting the blinker you pulled into the parking lot a few moments later.

“I hope you don’t mind. I know home’s only like an hour away, but...” you began to trail off, not knowing where to look at and your stomach finished your sentence. And before you were able to grab the door handle it sprung wide open. 

“Uh, what a gentleman. Thank you very much.”

The meal was over in a flash and once more you realised how much the boys actually knew about you without having actually interacted with you (perks of seeing other people without being seen themselves?). 

It’s like Luke could read your wishes just from your facial expressions. Whenever you needed salt or pepper they were right there. Whenever something was too salty or had too much pepper on your drink was being pushed closer to your side. And when you accidentally spilt something and needed more napkins they magically appeared.

When you then spotted a cute little guitar keychain that reminded you of Luke that was being sold as a souvenir at the check-out it was suddenly safely tucked into your back pocket (though that was really really risky, and while you did not condone it you couldn’t really stop a ghost).

Back in your car, you didn’t even bother to turn on the stereo, knowing that Luke would take over as soon as your hands were on the steering wheel again. 

However, a glance to your right presented you with a map of your surroundings, a big x hastily drawn over the Silverwood Lake in San Bernardino, which was basically just around the corner.

“You want to go swimming? We- I just ate! And my bathing suit is somewhere under that mountain of equipment on the backseat.”

Let's just get naked, just for a laugh Let's just get naked It's a trip and a half

You laughed at that, rolling your eyes and shaking your head, before stowing the map away and turning on the car. “I guess catching Reggie in the shower isn’t enough anymore?”

Hey!

“You started making it weird buddy.”

It had started to rain when you finally pulled up in your driveway, but you couldn’t be bothered to rush inside, enjoying the feeling of the cooling wetness on your skin.

“Look at that,” you said to nobody in particular, not knowing if Luke was still around or if he puffed back to the garage, “I didn’t even need to go swimming after all.”

He was. Sitting in the passenger seat, face on his arms while he leaned on the open car window, he watched you dance in the rain with a smile on his face. He was glad he decided to stick around and keep you company on that road trip. You gave him the courage to listen to My Name Is Luke for the first time (and getting to see you smile while showing off his impressive music knowledge was a bonus too). Because without knowing, you were doing little deeds for the boys too.

And made ALEX…

Whoever wrote that “Life isn't about waiting for the storm to pass. It's about learning how to dance in the rain”-quote totally forgot to mention how dangerous small summer storms can be. 

Well sure, it might have been your fault for staying out for too long and deciding to let the sun that came out a little bit later dry you instead of changing into fresh and dry clothes, but whatever happened happened and you got sick. (It’s not like you had anything better to do during the last few days of your summer holidays, right?) 

Flynn had been a great friend and hung out almost daily at your house, playing board games, watching movies or tv or even just discussing upcoming Julie and The Phantoms possibilities with you. But your dearest little helper had been Alex.

The blond drummer had turned into the tall brother you never had but always wanted (focus on tall because the age thing with ghosts is seriously confusing) even if he was invisible to you 100% of the time. You had the same interests and were able to bond without actually having to say any words, little gestures and reciprocations on your side were more than enough.

Julie had come up with an easy solution and had bought you some of those sound buzzers (like the ones that dogs and cats use to communicate with their owners) and recorded some simple words and phrases the boys liked to use on them. Now the boys just had to press them to be able to communicate with you without having to use pen and paper or Julie herself (sure your parents were a little bit weary and confused, but you said it was for a longer school research project and that shut them up).

Now, feeling way better than during the last few days, but still very tired, you were sitting in your bed, not really focused on the tv show (or was it a movie?) that was playing on your computer. You had been contemplating and mentally preparing yourself to get something to eat and to drink for the past 15 minutes, but the thoughts alone were exhausting and binding you to the bed. Just then a tray with a water bottle, meds and a fruit bowl floated into your room. 

Suddenly wide awake and full of energy you clumsily jumped out of your bed and grabbed the tray, throwing a quick glance out of the door to see if your parents were around and slammed the door shut, wincing at the loud sound and hoping that Alex had walked out of the way (not that it would have hurt him, but you know - rude).

“Rude.” 

See? He thought the same. (Julie had to specifically add this word for Alex.) 

“I know, I know. I’m sorry. But I would like not to get murdered or have Sam and Dean Winchester on my back because my parents think I’m possessed and need to be exorcised.”

“Me.”

“You what?”

“Me.”

“Alex… I need more context.”

“I do. Me.”

You just blinked blankly at the sound buzzers, trying to piece together what Alex was trying to say.

“Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. M-”

“THAT’S ENOUGH Y/N! WHATEVER THAT SCHOOL PROJECT IS, TELL IT I HEARD IT AND I DON’T CARE WHAT IT WANTS!” you heard your father's scream come muffled through the door.

The audience laughter from sitcoms filled your room and you groaned, grabbing a pillow and smashing it against your face.

Faintly you heard the telltale sound of a pen scribbling something on paper and when you peeked from behind the pillow a note was floating in the air in front of you. “You mean exorcise ME! You would be the one surviving!” 

“What? Oh my god… yeah okay, YOU get exorcised… same thing. Both aren’t allowed to happen. Forgive my fever brain.”

“No.”

“Fork you, Alex.”

“No.”

“I have Carlos on speed-dial, I’m sure he already came up with other methods to get rid of ghosts other than the salt thing. He already told me that he’s sorry and that he thinks I might get haunted by you too with the amount of time I spend at their house.” 

“No. Food.”

Confused at that topic change it took you a few seconds to answer. “What?” Looking around your gaze landed on the tray that you had deposited on your desk. “Oh right! Boy, I completely forgot how thirsty and hungry I am. Did I say thank you? Fang u!” you mumbled with your mouth full of fruit. 

“No. Food.”

You swallowed down your food and took a big gulp of water. “Yes Alex, thank you. I am eating. You see? Here I am, here’s the food. The food is here and now whoops - ifs gan!”

You could basically feel the annoyance radiating from the ghost and weren’t really shocked when the pen started to scribble something down again.

“No! Argh!” He really wrote Argh… that dork really wrote Argh! “You can be worse than Reggie sometimes, but you do it on purpose and I’m just sorry for Reggie. A) Carlos thinks he got rid of us by making a french dip and B) You’re awfully lively for a supposedly sick person. I might need to use the buzzers more and see what other reactions I can provoke from your parents.”

Crumbling the note in your hands you thought ‘Challenge accepted’. “You know what? I think I’mma go back on Reggie’s offer and actually let him introduce me to Wilbur. He might know some stuff I could use to blackmail you. And you’re right! I feel much better, just very tired, but that’s nothing a little bit of fresh air can’t fix! Toodles!” 

You left your room, leaving a flabbergasted ghost behind who had lost his snapback with the number of times he had been combing through his hair with his hands. And while angrily pressing a pink buzzer, the buzzer wasn't the only thing that screamed “WILLIAM!” after the girl. (That was another important sound Alex wanted to have recorded.)

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Taglist: @sunsetcurvej​​ @ifilwtmfc​

[turning-dreams-into-chaos]

Congratulations

Fred Weasley x Reader

~Master~

Word Count: 1.7K

A/N: Hope you like! Please like, reblog, comment, whatever! I need validation! 😂 I wrote this on a whim and okay, if anyone knows that like interview or whatever that Selena Gomez did where she was asked a song that reminded her of being in love, that’s what got me writing this at midnight because I caught inspiration. 

***

“Y/N will play with us! Won’t you, Y/N?” Ginny yelled out as she entered the common room, ruining the world you distracted yourself in with your book. Behind her was a group of people, a couple of them having the Weasley red hair, but all of them your friends. Ginny smiled at you, approaching the table you sat at and sliding into the seat.

You sighed deeply, putting a fake smile on your own face as you closed your book. “What are we playing?” A few people celebrated as you agreed, but right away your eyes flickered to a certain nervous face. It wasn’t that Fred didn’t want you to play, it was that since you both broke up 3 weeks ago, you’ve barely said a word to him. If you play this game, you’d be close, not walking out of rooms the moment the other walks in. You gulped, feeling Ginny pull you over to the couches where everyone began taking seats. You fell in between Hermione and Harry, both of them quickly noticing Fred taking the seat farthest from you.

There were 7 people playing with you. Ginny, Harry, Hermione and Ron, the twins, and Angelina. George pulled out a box from behind him as you quirked a brow. “What are we playing?” you asked again, letting a laugh as George made a big debacle of opening it.

“It’s a game Fred and George made.” Hermione said as leaned over to you, amused to see how this would turn out. “We’re the test subjects.”

Your eyes went wide. “What pranks weren’t enough, they moved onto games?” you laughed as Hermione smiled and shrugged, knocking her shoulder with yours.

“Tell us the rules.” Ginny told her brother causing George to roll his eyes as he removed the last two things from the box.

“It’s a simple game.” He began, sharing a smirk with Fred.

“Like Truth or Dare.”

“Only different.” They said together, having planned their pitch beforehand. You kept your eyes on George as they spoke, too afraid of sparing a glance to Fred as he carried on.

“We’re spilt into two teams and each team gets a vial and a card.” He held up each object to demonstrate, the vial was quite large, barely able to fit his hand as he placed it on the table and the card looked blank. Fred’s eyes met yours briefly as you looked at the objects, a hitch in his breathing letting you know he hadn’t seen it coming. George waited for his brother to say the next line before realizing he was looking at you, too busy staring at your now down casted face as George took over.

“The card will ask whoever’s holding it a question, and you have to answer truthfully, otherwise you have to do the dare that’s written on the back.” Fred seemed to snap out of his trance in the middle of George’s instructions, shifting in his seat as he kept his eyes off you for the time being. “Whenever you answer a question truthfully, part of the vial fills up. If you choose the dare instead, the vial doesn’t fill. The first team to answer enough questions to fill the vial completely, wins.”

Small sounds of intrigue went around the group and it seemed like everyone wanted to play the game. “How are we splitting us up?” Ron asked, glancing around the group. “Older versus younger?” He offered and you swallowed thickly. That would put you on a team with Fred, and you weren’t sure that’s what you wanted. Hermione, having seen your reaction to Ron’s suggestion, was the first to step in.

“How about girls versus boys, instead?” She offered. There were a few sounds of agreement, but when Hermione shot Ron and Harry a glare and flickered her eyes between you and Fred, Harry and Ron were suddenly more enthusiastic about the idea. Everyone moved, putting the girls together on one side of the table and the boys on the other.

“Thank you.” You whispered to Hermione and she squeezed your hand under the table. She might be 2 years younger than you, but Hermione has always been easy to talk to, especially in the last few weeks.

The twins got the game started, using Harry as the first person to answer a question. The question he had to answer was simple: What’s your favorite dessert?

“Treacle tarts.” Harry answered immediately and you had to hold back a chuckle, remembering all the times you’ve seen him stuff his face with them. The boy’s vial started to fill slowly from the bottom, a blue liquid inside that you all furrowed your brows at.

“What is that?” Angelina asked from next to you.

Fred and George shared a look and a smile as the they answered her together. “Magic.” Everyone chuckled at them, including you. You knew they wouldn’t say, gotta have their secrets. What you weren’t aware of, was Fred watching as you laughed, the slight tug of his heart when he heard the sound he’d grown to miss.

The questions kept coming, each group taking turns answering them as the vials slowly filled up. A few people had opted for taking dares as the questions became harder to answer. George, for one, was dared to change into girl clothes for the rest of the game and you took him upstairs, throwing him a few of your clothes to wear. Needless to say, it was quite entertaining for everyone as he came downstairs with you in tow and the whole group laughed, including the boy himself. Harry was dared to sprint down to the Slytherin Common room and back 3 times, and Angelina was dared to perform a song for the group, which George immediately complained about the unfairness of the dares in his own product. You had answered quite a few questions yourself, ones like: Your favorite place in the world or what’s the most illegal thing you’ve ever done. The girls’ vial was almost full as Hermione answered her most likely final question, leaving enough room for one last person, which much to your luck, was you. You sat with a smile, everyone laughing as Ron opted out of answering his question, deciding spilling who his crush was wasn’t something he was going to do, despite the fact that everyone knew it was Hermione, who blushed as you poked her leg.

“Alright Y/N, you just need one more question to win it for the girls.” George said with a smirk as Hermione passed you the card. You stuck your tongue out at him, earning a laugh from everyone as George put his hands up. “Or you could take the dare like a chicken and let us prove once and for all that we’re better.” The boys cheered in a friendly fashion as the girls booed, everyone sitting with a smile on their faces.

“Haven’t taken a dare yet, Weasley. Don’t plan on it now.” You shrugged with a cocky look before putting your hand to your chest. “Oh, I’ve been meaning to ask, how’s my jeans, chicken?” you asked, hearing Ginny clap as she laughed at her brother’s fallen face. Fred pulled your attention as he laughed at your question, seeing George shift awkwardly next to him. You quickly let your head drop again, wearing a fake smile as you tried not to look back up at him. It was harder to do than you thought.

“Read the card!” Ron laughed out, seeing the card had already scribbled a question on it.

“Okay!” Your grin turned real again as you started reading. “What is a song...” Everyone knew something was wrong the moment you stopped in the middle of the sentence and gulped, letting your smile fall off your face immediately. They all got quiet as they waited. “… that reminds you of being in love?”

Fred wasn’t sure he was breathing as you finished reading. You couldn’t spare him a glance, instead staring at the paper in front of you. Everyone was watching you, sharing looks with each other without any clue of what to do.

“You can do the dare, on the back.” Harry spoke up, pointing to the under side of the car. His words reminded you that you weren’t alone as you sucked in a breath, looking up to him and shook your head.

“No, it’s fine.” You didn’t know what fine meant, but you knew you were far from it. You tried to think, any song in the world that reminded you of being in love. The only problem was had only been in love with one person, and it ended with your heart broken. The only song you could think of was the one playing at the yule ball when Fred and you went together, the first time he ever told he loved you.

Does it remind of being in love if all it makes you feel is heartbroken?

“I don’t know.” You whispered, gently placing the card down on the table. Your eyes moved around everyone in the room before landing on Fred and neither of you looked away. “I don’t think I have one.”

Fred felt the sting behind his eyes as they met yours and he tried not to cry, not in front of everyone here during a game. A game that was supposed to be fun, a project he started 3 weeks ago to get his mind busy and off the breakup and here it was hurting him more.

The vial on the table slowly filled up as you turned to look, watching it change a light shade of purple as well, meaning your team won. No one celebrated. Instead you all sat there, frowns on your faces and you weren’t sure how long you could last before breaking down.

“Congratulations.” Fred said, keeping his voice low. “You guys win.” You knew he was speaking to your group, but if you had willed yourself to look at him one last time, you would’ve seen he was looking directly at you. He was gone the moment the words left his lips, running upstairs to his room. When you couldn’t hear his footsteps anymore, you felt Hermione putting an arm around you and pulling you into her arms. You allowed her to console you, letting the tears fall freely as Angelina grabbed your hand and Ginny moved behind you to rub your back.

You didn’t feel like you won anything.

***

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[phantaloon-books]

I was rereading the iconic reunion at baltimore and this came to me and I can't not write it (even though I have a half finished chapter waiting to be written for a fic for a whole different fandom but who cares right)

in which neil regrets realizes that the feds were on to something when they talked about witness protection program. brace yourselves, it's angst time bby. please bear with me, I don't write stuff like this, content and format wise.

so everyone knows what goes down in baltimore. everyone knows that famous college exy striker for the foxes neil josten has been the son of the butcher of baltimore all along, and that smth happened after he was kidnapped and tortured that resulted in the butcher and some associates to be killed. everyone knows that neil walked out alive, injured but alive. so when a few weeks, months later, associates of the butcher start getting raided and taken in custody, everyone knows exactly who opened his little mouth and revealed everything he knows (bc there's literally no one else who could know this stuff and would be willing to share with the fucking feds, no one has a death wish)

It's a slow process. It starts with the feeling of not being safe, which is ridiculous, because he hasn't been quite as safe as he is right now, with the foxes, his family, and most importantly with Andrew. They're on summer break, technically speaking, even if they're at campus for practice because they gotta train the new foxes. They're barely doing anything than hanging out together and training, but still Neil can't shake the feeling that something is wrong, that someone is watching him, but he doesn't say anything, because it doesn't make sense, he's just being paranoid, there's no need to panic.

Neil can swear he's being watched. He feels the dread whenever he's out of the dorm, when he's out running, when they go out to eat something, when they go to the mall, on their way to practice, at Eden's. But when he looks around there's no one looking, it's been weeks and nothing has happened, he hasn't seen anyone.

Neil can tell Andrew is growing suspicious of the way he checks out a place, the way his eyes trace every corner, every exit, because he's starting to fall back in old habits, and he knows Andrew hates it. But Andrew doesn't ask, he knows that Neil will speak when he feels ready, so he lets it go, even if he can't quite let got of the worry clawing at his heart.

But everything keeps going normally, things are fine, everything is fine fine fine. Neil doesn't talk about it, but it's fine really. Until it's not fine at all, but it's also too late to talk now because his head is fuzzy and throbbing, and he feels like he might throw up and he feels pain even if he's not sure where the pain is coming from. But he can't do anything now, he can't tell Andrew how he's been feeling dread for weeks, because a man whose name he doesn't even know but whose face is awfully familiar is standing right in front of him where he lies on the floor, and the situation is also awfully familiar.

Stop being a martyr. Oh Andrew would kill him. If Neil gets out of this alive, Andrew will kill him, because he left again. He didn't want to, he really didn't. He was out on a run while Andrew was in therapy with Bee and Aaron, a couple miles away from fox tower, when a car pulled up right in front of him, two men wearing hoods and sunglasses stepping out and standing in front of him. He came to a halt, trying his best to keep calm because who the hell were these men and what did they want and for fucks sake can this just stop? It would have been smart to turn around and try to get back to the tower but he can't ever keep his mouth shut can he?

"Look I don't know who you are, I don't care what you want, but you're in my way, so move away if you know what's best." He intended to go for more sarcastic, but he was doing his best not to panic, so that had to do.

"You're coming with us, get in the car, or we'll do this the hard way." Their voices said they wouldn't hesitate, but Neil laughed anyway, that smile he knew was the Butcher's resting on his lips. Anything to make the men leave. He opened his mouth and then- "The Minyard twins are at Dr. Dobson's office. Reynolds, Walker, and Wilds are at the mall. Hemmick, Boyd and Day are in the dorms. The newbies are at the dorms as well. Come with us the easy way and we'll let them walk out of their respective places alive, Nathaniel."

And he was fucked. Of course he hadn't been safe, he would never be safe. In fact no one he cared about would ever be safe. He should have known better. But he wasn't going to let the foxes be harmed.

"How do I know you won't kill them anyway?" The snark was gone, the smile vanished. His face was blank and dangerous, because he'd done this before. "I don't even know who you are, you're obviously not the big guys, and I don't remember seeing your faces."

"We don't want to attract unnecessary attention. All we care about is you. If you come, you spare us all the trouble. As for who we are, let's just say someone is pissed at the piece of shit that ruined everything."

"The Butcher's friends then. I can't argue with that, it's a habit of mine to fuck up. Ichirou won't be too happy if something happened." He played his strongest card but fuck it. The Moriyamas owed him protection, Ichirou himself had made a deal with him.

"The moment they turned their backs to the Wesninski and made a deal with Hatford, those Japanese shits mean nothing to us." These were desperate men apparently. If the Moriyamas were nothing, the FBI was even less. "Time is running Nathaniel, decide. You or them?"

Andrew would kill him, but they'd talked about it before. Neil had told Andrew. If it means losing you, then no. He would not put himself first. Hell, he'd told the others before, the Foxes were all he had, he wasn't going to risk them for himself, not for anything. He needed to keep them safe.

So now he's lying on the cold wooden floor of some house or shed or whatever, drowsy from whatever they drugged him with once he got in the car, and in pain after being beaten for the last hour or so. He didn't bother asking the man (who is obviously in charge and sent the two men) for a name, and honestly he still doesn't plan to. What was the point of that anyway? He just looks up at the cold brown eyes of the man standing over him, Neil's face as neutral as he could keep it despite the fear of not making it out alive threatening to pull him under. The man just stares at him, calculative eyes and cruel smile, and Neil can't take it.

"What, so you're just gonna stand there? I have better shit to do." He hears the slur in his voice, wonders if it's just the drugs or something else. A concussion is likely. He's met with silence, so he closes his eyes and lays his head down. Fuck he's tired of these situations. He truly will never be safe, no one will-

"You know, I was expecting so much more from you Nathaniel," the man says with a laugh, "I was told that you'd put up a fight, I thought this would be fun. They said you'd beg for your precious life, but you haven't even made an effort."

Whoever his source was, they definitely do not know Neil, or Nathaniel for that matter. Not only is he not going to risk the men hurting the others, but he isn't going to fight, not against so many of them, not when running would be more likely to get him out alive. He isn't going to let them know that. "First go fuck yourself, and second, this isn't remotely close to entertaining to what I've been through, maybe if it was more interesting."

What does Andrew say? Regret is worthless? It seems right, because he can't find regret in what he said, even if his face is a bloody mess (what's new?) and his body shakes with shivers, after his head is held underwater so many times. No, he doesn't regret it. Instead he finds himself laughing a hollow thing.

"Y'know at least others have had a point, this time it's just for the fun of it, and it's not being much fun." His voice cracks a couple times, hoarse from coughing up water.

"You're right though, it is for fun. You cost me absolutely everything Nathaniel. Did you know the feds and the Moriyamas have been after us for months? Hunting us like we're rabbits, all because you decided to be a dipshit and open your mouth. You should be dead. You should have died ten years ago, back in March, anytime. All your existence caused us is trouble. And ratting us to the feds wasn't enough was it? No you told Ichirou all of the Butcher's men were loose ends, too." The man took a deep breath, composing himself. "So yes Nathaniel, this is for fun. This is payback, you've cost many lives, this is retribution for speaking, and I'm gonna enjoy seeing you have fun for as long as I can."

At some point, after hours, he's left alone in the dark, in the cold. He knows he’s in pain. He’s pretty sure his arm is broken, and so are several ribs. He knows he should be in a lot of pain, but he's just numb. Regret is worthless. Because even if he feels even worse than how he felt last winter at Evermore, he doesn’t regret it. He can’t be sure the guy’s men were truly going to kill the Foxes, but he doesn’t regret coming here to make sure the others don’t suffer more than they already have because of him. He wonders if Andrew will forgive him. He didn’t leave proof that he didn’t want to leave this time. Would Andrew think he left them - him? God, he hopes not. Would Andrew look for Neil or leave it thinking that Neil wanted to leave?

It doesn’t really matter, though. Neil is so tired. This time isn’t like when he was on the run or when he went to Evermore or when Lola took him. While with the Ravens, Kevin knew he was there at least, if anything were to happen, a person would know where to look somehow. At Baltimore, several people knew the most likely place to find him; Uncle Stewart, the Hatfords, Kevin again. He has no idea of where he is, or who took him, and no one knows he’s been taken in the first place. No one will ever find him.

Maybe it’s better that way, he thinks. No one will have to deal with the burden of him or his disappearance or his death, because no one will know. The simple thing would be to assume he ran. He hopes they assume he ran. Maybe they’ll be hurt, but haven’t they been expecting him to run? They won’t make it to championships without him considering Jack is an awful striker, but Kevin will manage. Andrew - Andrew is the one who expects him to run the most, maybe he’ll take it nicely. Neil hopes he takes it nicely. Guilt blossoms among the nothingness in his chest, but he can’t take it back, and he doesn’t want to. It’s better this way. No one will find him, but that’s fine. He wonders what the Moriyamas will do. He doesn’t want to think about that. He thinks of Andrew, the kisses, the care, the love, the nights spent together. Thank you, you were amazing. He wishes he could tell him how much he cares one last time. He feels something wet slip down his face. He can’t tell if it’s water, blood or tears. He sighs. He thinks of Andrew, and his eyes slip close.

[astronomoney]

can i request 15 and 16 with tim drake? it’s alright if you don’t have time for it, it’s alright

Pairing: Tim Drake x reader (both in their 20s ish)

Prompts: Prompt list 15- “Make me”, 16- “If you don’t put a shirt i’m gonna have to kiss you and who knows where things will go from there”

Summary: Just you and Tim having a nice little date

A/n: i wrote this with a female reader in mind but i also didn’t use any specific pronouns so technically it could be gn!reader. also i have been trapped in the MHA fandom for like a 3 weeks so i couldn’t write anything that even resembled DC characters lmfao. Masterlist

Word count: 1.3k

Tag list: @battlenix

Late Night In

Life as a Gothamite is never boring. Every few days there’s a new murdering psychopath with a clever theme. Like the Riddler who dresses in green and asks, get ready for it… riddles! Some other honorable mentions include Killer Croc the killing crocodile, Mr. Freeze the guy who freezes stuff, and of course who can forget Scarface the dummy with a scar on his face.

All these villains prancing around town made dating a superhero unnecessarily difficult. Date nights were few and far between when there’s a killer clown on the loose. But you didn’t let that get in the way. You made the most of the time you had even if it was less time then you wanted.

It had been almost 3 weeks since Tim had a night off and you were dying to see him. Texting was fine for a week or two and you didn’t consider yourself a high maintenance or clingy person but you could only go so long without him. So when he called to say he had a night off you suggested he come over to your place to watch a movie and have some take out.

Your apartment wasn’t necessarily small but it definitely wasn’t big. The door opened right into a short hallway which led to the kitchen. There was a counter between the kitchen and dining area but nothing in between that and the living room. There were two doors and either side of the living room and the door to the left led into a bathroom while the door to the right was your bedroom.

When Tim arrived a little after 8 he was holding a bunch of roses and a cute stuffed bear with the words “I love you” stitched into its belly. There was a duffle bag slung over his shoulder that most likely held his sparring gear and his costume in a secret pocket at the bottom. He looked tired and smelled like a gym which brought you to conclusions that he did not go home after sparring and instead came straight to you.

He immediately started rambling about how much he’d missed you and how sorry he was for his busy schedule.

“I am so so sorry. It’s been so long since I've had a night off and I know you wanted to go to that movie last week and I couldn't make it and-” You cut him off with a quick kiss.

“Tim. Relax.” You said firmly with a hint of amusement in your voice. “You were saving 6 hostages from a madman with a thing for hats. I don’t know about you but to me that seems a bit more important then some random movie.” You took the flowers so you could admire them before heading towards the kitchen.

Tim closed the door and followed you. “If it’s important to you then it’s the most important thing in the world.” He said, putting the bear on the counter.

You smiled at him and started filling a vase with water to put the flowers in. “That is the cheesiest thing I think I've ever heard.”

“That was romantic and you know it.” Tim smiled back at you. “And I really am sorry for canceling last week.” You could tell in his voice that he felt guilty.

“And I really do forgive you,” You turned your attention to him. “You’re here now and that’s all that matters.” His body relaxed and he walked around the counter so he could hug you from behind.

His hands wrapped around your waist and his chin rested on your shoulders”How the hell did i get so lucky as to end up with you?” He asked softly. He rocked slightly from side to side as you dropped the roses into the water.

“Oh gross Tim you’re all sweaty!” You exclaimed

“Really? i say that and you’re reaction is ‘Oh gross’. And here I was thinking you loved me.” He said with fake hurt in his voice.

“I’ll love you more if you go take a shower.” You stated, completely unfazed by his guilt tripping attempts.

“Ugh ok,” he sighed lazily while burying his head in the crook of your neck.

“Tim?”

“Yeah?” he murmured in response.

“That means you have to let go.” You tried to break free which only made him hug you tighter.

“Make me.” He started leaving kisses on your shoulder and neck. The soft feeling made your mind go blank for a second and you melted farther into him before pulling yourself out of the daze.

You wriggled out of his grasp and turned around to kiss him before breaking away. “This is really cute and all but you smell like a sewer.”

“Yeah well Bruce said i could only have the night off if i sparred first so i smell like this for you.” He walked backwards toward the bathroom so you were still facing each other.

You shook your head and walked to the living room. “Well then i appreciate your sacrifice.”

He didn’t take long in the shower. You had enough time to grab some blankets for the couch and turn on a Law and Order rerun. The water turned off and about a minute later your boyfriend stepped out.

You didn’t look at him at first, too caught up in the 5 year old fictional court case. He walked over to you and sat down, you leaned back and rested your head on his shoulder. It was then that you actually noticed his lack of shirt. He was a lean sort of fit, not too bulky but not not muscular. You’d seen him shirtless before but the sight still brought a pink tint to your face. You unconsciously let your hands trace his collarbone.

“If you don’t put a shirt on i’m gonna have to kiss you and who knows where things will go from there.” You stated teasingly, pulling yourself out of yet another daze. The doorbell rang interrupting the calmness that had settled over you.

“Are you expecting someone?” Tim asked, turning his head to peer at the door.

“Oh shit, I forgot.” You laughed at yourself and rushed to the door. When you opened it there was a delivery man on the other side holding a bag of chinese food. You thanked and tipped him before closing the door and walked back over to Tim. “I did promise you takeout.” You held up the bag.

After you had dished the food and settled down on the couch you watched the movie. It was nice to be with him again even if you were just watching a movie.

You were nearly asleep, cuddled up next to him on the couch when the end credits started to roll. You stretched and yawned and checked the clock to find out it was already 11:10. It wasn’t necessarily late but it had been a long day for you both. That’s when you decided to ask him the question that had been on your mind since he arrived.

“It’s getting pretty late.” You said standing up to get your dirty dishes.

“Yeah,” Tim followed suit, grabbing his plate and heading towards the kitchen. “I should probably head back now. I don’t want to be out too late, especially not in costume.” He dropped the dishes in the sink.

“Oh right,” you paused “Or maybe... you could stay here tonight.” You suggested. “And tomorrow night… and the night after that?”

“Are-are you asking me to move in?” He questioned a slightly surprised look on his face.

“Well i was just thinking if you lived here then we could see each other a lot more and you wouldn’t have to live in the manor with Bruce but your right it was stupid idea i’m sure they need you there for all kinds of superhero stuff and-” you started rambling before he cut you off.

“I think it’s a great idea!” You were surprised by his response.

“R-really?” You stammered

“Yes really! I’d love to move in with you.”

A/n: i legitimately can’t end a fic to save my life like what kinda half ass ending is that?

[pansyslut]

If only

femme fatale!reader x draco

requested by @beiahadid | based on the song acquainted by the weekend

warnings: spanking, choking if you squint, penetration, lap dance, guns

baby you're no good

'cause they warned me 'bout your type girl

he watched you as you seductively swayed your hips against the girl next to you. moving your body suggestively as you caress yourself from your breasts all the way down to your center.

the club was dim and was only lit with red lights which was only adding to your desirable look. you turned around and grabbed the girl by her waist drawing her in close to you. kissing up and down her neck slowly and making your way to her breasts. you licked up to her ear and whispered seductively to her.

draco watched in awe as he couldn’t help but wonder what you had whispered to the girl. his eyes couldn’t help but dart across your figure. to your ass, to your waist, to your lips. he wanted so badly to take you home tonight.

realizing he was lost in his thoughts, he looks back up and meets your eye. winking at him, you saunter off to the VIP area. his disappointment was short lived as he saw a bouncer making his way over to him, telling him that his presence was requested.

pushing past the diamond curtain beads and the VIP door, he finds you draped on the sofa smoking a blunt. with hundred dollar bills scattered on the floor, he almost thought you were a prostitute. but glancing over you, he realized you held yourself different. your whole demeanor screamed importance and elegance. you looked so sure, so in control.

you got me puttin' time in, time in

nobody got me feeling this way

you probably think i'm lying, lying

i’m used to bitches comin' right 'way

he was so used to feeling dominate around women- used to feeling so powerful. a small part of the man felt unease. pushing the thought away, he walks over to you and sits down on the sofa.

finally, he realizes your attire. instead of just looking at your body, he drinks you in, taking notice of your latex dress and knee high black boots. he could see your black lace bra peaking through but forced his eyes to look away realizing he probably looked like a perv.

smirking, you propped yourself up on your elbow and looked up at him. laughing to yourself, “i’ve got to admit draco, i was expecting you to look different. it’s a shame you’re so pretty,” you say now frowning and running a finger across his jaw.

he swallows as his eyes grow confused. his mind was running wild, how the hell did she know my name? maybe i’m just that important. he realizes that you probably saw his confused expression to see you shaking your head, “but that’s not the matter now. because right now, i want to have fun.”

connecting your lips to his, all his worries fade away. he had no idea who this girl is or what she wanted but right now his whole body yearned for her. after watching her dance and her relentless teasing, he had grown painfully hard in his pants.

you push him down roughly and cradle him. ripping off his shirt, the buttons fly everywhere. feeling up and down his chest, you lean in to kiss him. he immediately obliges, intertwining your hair with his fingers as your tongues dance playfully.

i'll get you touchin' on your body

i know i’d rather be complacent

but girl i’m so glad we're acquainted

rubbing your center against his growing member, his hands massage your breasts under your dress. unzipping you and throwing your dress to the side, you start to sway your body to the music.

grabbing his throat, you sit him up and sit on his lap facing awak from him. although the music wasn’t as loud as in the club, that was the last thing on his mind. he watched you swivel your hips to the faint beat and twist around him. grinding harshly, he could see you soaking through your laced thong.

“fuck babe, you’re absolutely soaked,” he said, teasing the outer corners, daring to slip a finger in. unzipping his pants and shoving his boxers out the way, he lets his cock spring free.

you gently rub yourself over his tip, listening to him panting harder behind you. sitting fully on him but not taking him in, you grab one of his hands from behind you and placed it on your breast. now leaning against his chest, you whisper “are you gonna do something about it?”

hearing him curse under his breath, he grips your hips and throws you onto the couch. grabbing your ass as you arch your back, he send a smack to it making you moan.

“i’m done with your teasing princess,” he plunges into you making both of you moan in return. you were so used to being in control but you figured that since what was going to take place after this, you should let him enjoy himself.

getting at a good pace, the room is filled with both of your moans and the sounds of your thighs hitting each other with an occasional smack to your ass.

“look at you all spread out for me, what a whore.”

although draco was all talk, you both knew you were the one in control here. you decided you were done with listening so you pushed him out of you and stradeled him once again.

jumping up and down as you grip his hair, he runs his hands up your thighs. his hands stop moving as he feels something solid agianst your leg. you watch his eyes widen, as he finally realizes the small revolver you have strapped to your outer thigh.

pinning his hands down, you continue to bounce, chasing after your orgasm. he looked unsure of what to do but let you continue nonetheless.

finally reaching your euphoric state, you lean against his chest trying to catch your breath. you look up and meet his eyes. looking up at him innocently, you pout. “what is it, daddy? we were having so much fun.”

he watches as an evil smirk plasters your face as you lift from his lap. you stand in front of him now with only your undergarments but instead of looking at your body, this time his eyes are glued to your thigh.

he scolded himself internally for not noticing the gun before. how could he be so stupid? he fell directly into your trap and you got exactly what you wanted.

the fast life keeps gaining on me, shit (the fast life keeps gaining on me)

but ever since i met you (ever since i met you)

i couldn't believe what you did

you reach for your gun and shake your head at the man sitting in shock before you. thinking to yourself, if only men didn’t only think with their dicks.

walking around the couch, eyeing him, you take notice of the dark mark on his forearm. sighing to yourself, “i wasn’t lying before. it really is a shame-” you cut off to see him making a run towards the door. he jiggles it and bangs himself against it.

he hears you laugh wickedly behind him. turning back around, he listens to your manic, hysterical laughing. “you- you really thought,” you pause trying to catch your breath, “that i would be stupid enough to not lock the door?” suddenly your face stiffens and turns emotionless. “naughty, naughty boy. do sit down, and next time if you feel the urge to go for a run, remember i’m the one with a gun.”

your eyes don’t leave him as he slowly walks back to the couch. “like i was saying before i was rudely interrupted, it’s a shame that you value daddy’s opinion so much. i never did like a boy who couldn’t think for himself,” you say now pointing the gun in front of you.

you could tell he was trying to collect himself and stay calm but his body language screamed anything but that. gulping, he finally answers, “baby, let’s talk about this. put the gun down.”

scowling at him, “for future reference, i don’t like boys telling me what to do either,” shooting him blank in the head. walking up to him, you can’t help but admire your work. you thank merlin that the ministry sent you on the mission alone. you definitely enjoyed yourself.

as soon as they got word draco was trying to group up the death eaters again, there was immediately a warrant out for him and they sent out their best to capture him. many failed, but now you could pride yourself of the job at hand.

grabbing your coat and throwing it over your shoulder, you saunter off after throwing a wink towards the bouncers direction. oh, if only men thought with something other than their dicks.

a/n: okay i feel like this definitely isn’t my best work but i wanted to try writing something different and i feel bad for all the requests sitting in my inbox :/

[all-my-love-for-harry]

A priority.

summary: Y/N defends herself from the hate and Harry gets mad.

word count: 1.9k

warnings: angst!

a/n: a little something to hold onto until i finish some requests for my shy little boy, hope you like this! (i’m on a roll, sorry for posting so much mjsiw)

you can find the rest of my masterlist here

❁ ❁ ❁ ❁ ❁ ❁ ❁ ❁ ❁ ❁ ❁ ❁ 

Ugly. Worthless. Bitch. And her personal favorite, slut. Those words along with some others were all over Y/N’s social media accounts every single day.

Ever since some bloody paparazzi took a picture of Harry and Y/N holding hands while shopping, Y/N couldn’t go online without having thousands of strangers on the internet throwing names at her.

She should’ve seen it coming, honestly. It was stupid to think they could hide their relationship forever, she just wished fans wouldn’t be so aggressive towards her.

Y/N wanted to understand, she really did. For a solid week she convinced herself they were just being protective over Harry, but after the insults and derogatory comments about her imagine didn’t stop, she started to grow annoyed. She started believing fans just didn’t want to see him happy.

Y/N had to bit her tongue numerous times, knowing that if she stood up for herself, it would only be worse. So she tried to ignore it.

She didn’t stop using social media, why the hell would she stop having a life because of fans that couldn’t contain their need to harass every person Harry became close with?

A month after the pictures of them were out for the entire world to see, Harry had to travel to the States for work. He was supposed to be away for only two weeks, and Y/N was going to stay at his house a couple of days before his arrival so they can spend time together right away.

Laying on the couch, Y/N scrolled mindlessly through her Instagram feed, seeing what her friends and family were up to. She rolled her eyes when her notifications started to go off, not really wanting to enter and see her entire comment section below her posts full of hate towards her.

But curiosity killed the cat.

Promising herself she would only have a look, she clicked her notifications. She had posted a picture yesterday when she went out with a couple of her girlfriend, so all the comments were directed towards that post.

She’s dressed like a slut here

Can’t believe Harry is dating her…

He can do so much better, what a shame

It can be so easy to slip into a mindset where she let these type of things affect her and her confidence, but she simply chose not to. These people didn’t know her, and probably never will.

I can’t wait for harry to realize the kind of whore you are and dumps your fucking ass.

Oh well, that’s hilarious. Now she was mad. Probably picking a fight wasn’t the smartest decision she’s ever made, but she couldn’t help it. She let the anger speak for itself as she pressed the reply bottom and started writing directly to that specific comment.

‘So he can date you instead or what?”

Send.

Y/N dropped her phone on her lap, deciding it was enough internet for the day. She decided to move to the kitchen and start on the cupcakes she had previously planned to bake her boyfriend. Harry wasn’t one to allow himself to eat a lot of unhealthy stuff, as he has always tried to be as healthy as possible. But, man, cupcakes were something Harry absolutely loved.

She didn’t really touched her phone for the rest of the afternoon, staying busy in other things. She had a facetime call with Harry at night, and she was looking forward to see his face, even if it was only through the phone. Her phone didn’t have enough battery, so she turned on her computer to wait for Harry’s call.

The screen lightened, showing Harry’s upcoming call. Y/N furrowed, thinking he was way earlier but she wouldn’t complain about it. She answered the call, expecting to see her beautiful boyfriend’s dimpled smile on the screen, but she was surprised when she saw a serious look instead.

“Why would you do that, Y/N?” he asked sternly.

“Do what?” Was this some kind of joke?

“You know exactly what I’m talking about, Y/N. Don’t play dumb”

“Excuse me?” she raised her eyebrows. “Maybe if you explained what you mean we could talk about it”

Harry rolled his eyes. “Do you have any idea how disrespectful it was from you to answer like that to a fan? It was unnecessary and, to be honest, childish from you”

Y/N was surprised. “Yeah, maybe I was rude but I don’t think I was being childish, Harry”

“Yes, you were. Are you aware of how this makes me look? You can’t just say things like those and don’t think it wouldn’t affect my image too”

Well, what the fuck. “Ah, yes. Treat people with kindness and whatnot. I guess that doesn’t include your fucking girlfriend, because the only reason why I said what I said was because your bloody fans wouldn’t stop harassing me!” Now her face had a deep frown.

“You sure you’re not being a little dramatic? I mean, how bad could the hate get?”

“How bad?! Harry, do you even go online? To them I’m nothing but a fucking whore, do you have any idea of how fucking frustrating is to be treated like you’re the worst human being by your fans just because we’re dating?”

“There’s always gonna be people like that, Y/N” he sighed. “You need to learn how to ignore it”

“Do you think I haven’t tried? I’m sorry but it is not my fault the fans can’t contain themselves from sending death threats to every person that breaths close to you!” she paused. “Do you seriously just called me to scold me?”

“Well, I’m not happy about what you did, to be honest. They’re my fans, Y/N. They deserve to be respected”

“And I don’t?” she raised an eyebrow. “You know what? I’m done. Enjoy your day alone tomorrow because I’m fucking leaving”

“Leaving? What do you mean?” Harry’s pulse started to rise, watching his girlfriend stand up from the bed, the computer moved and he saw she was in his house. “Y/N, don’t leave. We’ll talk about this tomorrow”

“No, I’ve heard enough. I don’t want to talk to you right now” She closed her computer, hanging up. She put on her jacket and took her phone from the nightstand.

Before she exited the house, she went to the kitchen and threw the cupcakes she made in the trash.

Harry, you fucking asshole.

They’ve only dated for seven months and have never really got into a fight before. Y/N was a very impulsive person, more so when she was mad. Fuck, she knew his fans were important to him, she understood that. But it was becoming too much for Y/N to handle.

She loved Harry, she was truly in love with him. But was it really worth it to go through all of this if he wasn’t even willing to stand up for her?

❁ ❁ ❁ ❁

Harry changed his flights. After Y/N hung up on him, he realized he behaved like a proper asshole. He could’ve said so many things differently, without offending her the way he did.

He didn’t like she thought she wasn’t important to him. He was scared all the baggage he carried with him was a deal breaker for her, it has been on the past for almost every other relationship he has ever had.

It wasn’t fair of him to straight up scold her without hearing her first. He was upset and didn’t think enough before speaking, and now he regretted it.

He knew he needed to fix things. Fast.

Even though the night before Y/N made very clear she wasn’t staying, a part of him still hoped to see her curled up on the couch watching Netflix and waiting for him to arrive, but he was welcomed by an empty house.

He sighed, passing his hand through his curls, thinking how he could make it up to her. He went to the kitchen, where he kept his car keys. Harry stopped his tracks when he saw the trash can.

His heart dropped to his stomach when he noticed the homemade untouched cupcakes tossed into the trash.

He better make this right.

❁ ❁ ❁ ❁

Y/N was bored. She had cleared her schedule because Harry was coming home and now she had nothing to do other than drown on her sorrows.

Being bored and upset at her boyfriend, made her take the decision to take an afternoon nap on her couch. She had been asleep for a little while when someone started banging at the door.

You see, Harry had a key to her place, but he feel undeserving of using it after the way he treated her. But she wasn’t answering, and it wasn’t because she wasn’t home, he had seen her car in the parking lot of her apartment building.

Keying into her place, he looked around for his girlfriend, finding her sleeping figure on the couch, a blanked wrapped around her. He didn’t want to wake her up but they really needed to talk, so he kneeled down to be at the same eye level.

“Y/N… Y/N, wake up” he shook her a little. Her eyelashes fluttered a little before her eyes opened, a frown immediately appearing on her face.

“What are you doing here?” She sat down, taking the blanked off of her and crossing her arms.

“I’m so sorry, baby”

“Now I’m baby? Not the childish Y/N you were scolding yesterday?”

He sighed, moving to sit in the coffee table to be in front of her. “I’m sorry for the way I behaved yesterday, it wasn’t fair for you”

“It wasn’t”

“I was upset, Jeff had sent me a screenshot of the comment and I didn’t even check social media. It was impulsive and wrong from me and I apologize”

“I don’t like the way you talked to me yesterday, Harry”

“I know. If I could take it back, I would in a heartbeat. Please don’t leave me over this, my love” he grabbed her hands, feeling tears threaten to spill out of his eyes. “I know it isn’t fair for you, I know you’ll have to put up to so much shit, but please, please don’t give up on us. I swear I’ll make it right, Y/N, I don’t want these kind of situations get in the way of us”

“I’m not going to leave you” she mumbled. “I’m upset, yes. I know I was wrong too, but it all got too much and i… snapped. I know these kind of things affect your image and reputation too, so I’m sorry”

“I don’t care about my image. I should’ve said something sooner, before it all went out of control. I suppose I ignored it, hoping you’d do the same. I’m sorry for not checking up with you about this”

Y/N gave him a little smile, pulling from his hands to make him sit beside her. She wrapped her arms around his torso, pushing herself into his chest. “I know your fans are important to you, and you love them. I swear I want to have a good relationship with them, because they’re a huge part of your life, and I’m gonna work on that, I promise”

“And I promise I’ll stand up for you. I love my fans, so much. But you’re my girlfriend, my priority” he kissed her forehead. “I love you, Y/N, my baby”

“I love you more, love” she planted little kisses on his chin and jaw.

“Enough to make me more cupcakes?” Y/N let out a belly laugh, nodding. “Good. You owe me after you threw those to the trash”

“That’s what you get for being a meanie”

[yannowhatigiveup]

My One And Only - Chapter 9

Previous | Next

So this chapter is longer than chapter 8 and I think from next chapter, they got longer. As we get closer to the chapter I’m currently writing, the frequent updates will unfortunately die. Just letting you know so you won’t be too disappointed! Oh and my Wattpad name is the same, ‘yannowhatigiveup’. If you know any way I can improve my writing please do tell me!

Gabriel Agreste stood in his observatory after recently detransforming. 'She can control her emotions well but when she's angry, it's incredibly strong. This girl could be one of the strongest in Paris, she could be one that senses auras. I must find a way. I will use her to eliminate all of heroes. All I need is time'.

————————————————————

The bluenette sat in her uncle Jagged's hotel room, tapping a pen against her lips while watching the conversation, well it was more like an argument, between Jagged and his manager Bob Roth. Bob was stating that they should leave the song writing to the professionals while Jagged protested, saying that his niece was overflowing with talent and that she could do it no problem. Penny was on the phone with someone but Marinette didn't eavesdrop in her conversation. She stated at the blank notebook in front of her, eyeing it suspiciously. Then she got an idea and began scribbling down the lyrics she had in mind, not knowing that she had unintentionally gained the attention of everyone in the room. She managed to write the whole song in one sitting which was very impressive even for professional song writers at the time. "Did it" she said putting the pen down. Penny then came over to take the notebook and read what the bluenette had written. 'I hope it's ok'

"Wow Mari, this is great!" Penny said her mouth agape. She passed it to Jagged but Bob had snatched it out of his hands, only to give it back when Fang looked at him hungrily.

"Yeah, this is rock'n roll Nettie!" He praised her while giving his manager a 'I told you so' look.

"Yes this is exactly what we needed, a little change in the album. Thank you for this Marinette. We shall produce the song while you can sing the lyrics-"

"If that's alright will you of course" Jagged said, interrupting his manager.

Marinette nodded hesitantly. "I can give it a shot" she murmured.

Marinette walked home after visiting Jagged and showing Damian the designs she had in plan for his brothers, without showing the design she made for him. She was careful not to shake her purse too much as Tikki was sleeping, it was a busy day for the kwami as Marinette had let her go visit Plagg for some 'Kwami business'. Marinette didn't press for answers though. Soon she entered her parents bakery to find them already there, waiting for her.

"Maman, Papa what is it?" She asked.

"Your father and I are discussing if we should open a second bakery" Sabine answered enthusiastically.

"There's a few spots available in Marseille, we already booked a flight and a hotel to stay at" Tom answered, maybe even more excited than his wife.

"That's great! But isn't Marseille far away? It's closer to Italy than Paris" Marinette answered.

"Well surprisingly, we're already well known there" Tom replied.

"Oh cool! When will you be leaving?"

"On Saturday at 2 am" Her mother replied. "It's late but it was the next available flight. We'll be gone for a week maybe longer depending on all the paper work"

"Well you better start packing then!" Marinette said happy for both her parents. "I'll be going to bed now. Good night!" She hugged both her parents before going upstairs to change and finishing up her designs.

~~~

Adrien sat in front of his computer early before school, looking through all of Kagami's recent posts and he liked the photo that she posted yesterday, the photo was of when they went for ice cream earlier today. Alya and Nino were also in the picture, smiling for the camera but Adrien noticed someone else in the background. 'Marinette...' She was eating her ice cream, unbeknownst to the picture being taken, with the spoon still in her mouth. Adrien felt distracted by the way the sun reflected off her hair. He loved Kagami truly but his new love for Marinette shadowed it. "Plagg" Adrien said. "I think I have a thing for bluenettes".

"So your type is blue-haired girls? What makes you say that?" The kwami replied, not really enjoying the conversation.

"Well I like Ladybug, Kagami and Marinette and they all have one thing in common. They all have blue hair" Adrien sighed. "The last thing I need is another blue-haired girl to come into my life"

"Ughhh this is too cheesy, I much prefer actual cheese" Plagg groaned while looking around for Camembert.

Adrien sighed, smiling while going back to think of the girls he liked. He liked Ladybug for her quick, sly and smart nature. Kagami was incredibly skilled and very easy to relate to. And Marinette had a kind personality as well as unmatchable beauty. He couldn't decide which one he liked most as all the options were as great as the others. Then a notification on his computer distracted him from his thoughts. It was a notification that Jagged Stone had posted something. 'Huh, I wonder what it could be'

~~~

Jason was flicking through the channels on the TV, looking for something interesting to watch when a notification appeared on his phone. 'What's this?' He then realised that it was a trending post from Jagged Stone and went to view it. "HOLY SH-"

"Master Jason, language"Alfred reminded him.

"Oh yeah sorry" he whispered before shouting again. "HOLY MOTHER OF UM SOMETHING!"

Dick and Tim then entered the room, wondering what Jason was talking about. "What?" Dick asked.

Jason then connected his phone to the TV and showed the post he was talking about.

@official_jaggedstone

(Photo of a blue-haired girl with a medium long braid and her back facing the camera, writing on something)

Wonder what MDC is writing up for the bonus track? 🤔🤔🤔🤔

All three of the boys then fanboyed over finally being able to see what their favourite designer, and idol, looked like. Alfred then sighed while exiting the room.

"She's pretty!"

"She looks smart!"

"What's she writing?"

"I'm gonna call Damian, that room looks similar to the room he's staying in"

"Yes do, I want to pester him"

Dick then dialed a number on his phone. After a few rings, the phone finally answered.

"Tt, Yes?" A stern voice came through on the other side.

"HAVE YOU SEEN JAGGED'S RECENT POST!?" Tim shouted into the microphone.

~~~

Damian had already seen Jagged's post, he smiled to himself. He was about to go back to reading his book when his phone rang. He would've picked it up straight away if he hadn't see the name, it was Dick. He let the phone ring for a little while before answering.

"Tt, Yes?" He said in a stern voice.

"HAVE YOU SEEN JAGGED'S RECENT POST!?" Luckily Damian had the phone further away from his ear otherwise Tim would've exploded his eardrums.

"What about it?"

"He posted an image of MDC, the very first one ever on the internet!" Dick answered excitedly. "There aren't any pictures of her anywhere".

Damian smiled to himself knowing that he had seen MDC before his brothers, he had seen her smile. "There aren't?"

"Yeah! Weird right? She doesn't even show up to Jagged's live performances!" It was Jason's turn to speak now.

"Well I'm sure she goes to the performances, she's just never seen" Tim told his brother in a matter-of-fact way.

Damian rolled his eyes. "Tt, bye now" he said, immediately turning his phone off not allowing any of his brothers to protest. He then texted Marinette.

Me: Just got off the phone with my brothers, they were fanboying over you.

Surprisingly Marinette replied straight away.

Angel: They are too? Everyone is fangirling over MDC

Me: Because of Jagged's post, he posted a picture of you. The back of your head specifically

Angel: Oh hah I see it now, I guess that has to be my signature hairstyle as MDC now.

Me: It looks great on you though

Angel: You really think so?

Me: Mhm

Angel: Aw, thanks

~~~

Marinette had blushed when Damian said she looked good in that hairstyle. She really liked him. Then Marinette looked at the time, she was early for once. She decided to make use of this and get ready for school. She had finished getting ready quickly and she was able to walk instead of run to school like she usually did. When she entered, she noticed that there was barely anyone here. 'Perfect! I can work on my designs' that was until a familiar face showed up.

"Hey girl! You're here early wow!" The sound of her best friend made Marinette laugh until her facial expression changed from surprised to smug. Marinette was about to ask but Alya had brought her to the locker room where they were alone. "So girl, spill"

"What?"

"Do you like Chat Noir?"

Marinette giggled but she saw her best friend's face. "Oh you're not joking"

"Nope, now you can tell me so that I can get you both on a date." She blushed profusely. "And I ain't backing down, I've spent too much time on trying to find out who he is. Don't think I haven't noticed how you're jumping at anytime to be with this boy." She said the last statement with a soft voice.

Marinette sighed, grateful of her best friend but hesitant to tell her without Damian's permission as he never seemed like one for social interaction. "I'll ask" she said while taking her phone out.

Me: Shaytan, my best friend found out that I've been sneaking off to go see you.

Shaytan: Césaire?

Me: Yeah

Shaytan: You said she wanted to be a reporter right? Well then I guess this is expected, she did a good job.

Me: So should I tell her your name?

Shaytan: That's up to you

Me: Ok thanks!

Marinette put her phone away and looked at her best friend.

"So?" Alya asked. "Can you tell me?"

Marinette nodded. "So um, his name is D-Damian"

———

Taglist: @little-bluestar, @miracleofadisaster, @frieddonutsweets, @jjmjjktth, @genderfluidmoma, @starlit-dreaming, @icerosecrystal

[blossom-hwa]

You Look So Lovely, Darling (I’ll Love You for Lifetimes) - |BaL|

Kinda feels weird to be writing the proposal scene so early, but like? This drabble series is all out of order so whatever lmao :) enjoy some sweet nervous channie who just wants his proposal to be perfect <3

(and again, thanks to @deathbykpopboys​ for helping me work out this scene!! I LITERALLY owe you the world if you ever have ANY requests I'll be willing to write them :D)

Pairing: Chan x fem!reader

Genre: fluff, slice of life, single parent!au

Triggers: cursing

Word Count: 2.9k

Chan just wants to give you a picture perfect proposal - why is that so hard?

SKZ Masterlist | Breathe, and Live | Touching Stars (TBZ teacher!au)

Proposing, Chan comes to learn, is no easy task.

It looks so simple in movies. One of the couple pulls a ring out of their pocket, kneels down in front of their significant other, and pops the question. There might be tears, but it always ends in pure joy.

Movies make it seem like a formula, a simple algorithm that Chan just has to follow in order to get this proposal right. In real life, though, Chan thinks he’s about to lose his mind.

Because movies don’t demonstrate how to act in front of an older brother very protective of his sister. They don’t show him how to talk to his children or hers, how best to ask them if they’re all right with gaining new siblings and a new parent. They don’t give him insight on how to pick the perfect god damn ring, something maybe reminiscent of the promise rings you both wear on chains around your necks, but also not too similar because what if you think he isn’t being creative?

And the worst thing is, they don’t tell him how to pick the perfect moment. They don’t tell him where to go, what ambience is right, whether or not little kids in the room will ruin the timing.

At this point, just thinking about proposing turns Chan into a stammering mess. Even though you’ve discussed marriage before, you haven’t made any large moves beyond that. Jisung and Felix have been calling you Mama for a bit, but Hyunjin has only just started calling him Papa, and mostly on accident (though each time he does, Chan’s heart fills with this overwhelming happiness that brings tears to his eyes). What if you decide now isn’t the right time? What if you decide you want to wait a little longer?

What if you decide Chan isn’t the right person for you?

That’s a question that plagues Chan every time his mind even brushes on the topic of marriage.

He loves you, though, he loves you so much. And he knows you’re the right partner for him, even if in the end you might decide he isn’t the right partner for you.

Patience, he tells himself, taking a deep breath. He really should be working on this new track, but instead, he’s staring into his hands, trying to map out the perfect proposal. Not too fast, Chan. Take it in steps.

The only problem is, step one scares him out of his wits.

. . . . .

Chan is a full year older than Minho, and then some. By all rights, he’s the elder, and he shouldn’t be as terrified of the younger man as he is.

Minho’s a scary person, though. He’s driven, concentrated, focused – it’s how he’s gotten so far as both a dancer and a father. Chan knows he’s hardworking, but Minho is just as much, if not more, than he is.

And he’s very protective of you.

(When Minho found out you two were dating, he told Chan, verbatim, “I won’t hesitate to take you to international waters, chop up your body, and toss the parts overboard if you hurt my sister.” Just thinking about the blank expression Minho had on when he spoke those words is almost enough to make Chan lose his nerve.)

But here he is, standing just outside of Minho’s studio, ready to knock. He’s sweating, not because it’s hot or anything (it’s actually pretty cold because Minho is weird like that), but just out of sheer nervousness. His heart feels like it’s pounding a mile a minute.

Oh, God. Chan raises his hand again to rap on the door. Stop thinking. Just do it.

He knocks.

A few seconds later, the dancer opens the door in all his sweaty glory. “Chan?”

“Yeah.” Chan tries to smile, but he’s pretty sure it just looks like a grimace. “Can I ask you something?”

A glint comes into Minho’s eyes. “Of course, come on in.” He opens the door widely, smiling in a distinctly cat-like fashion that is literally scrambling Chan’s brain.

Why does he look like he knows what Chan’s about to ask?

The door swings shut with a soft but audible click, and with the noise goes Chan’s last chance to run away.

“So?” Minho looks over once Chan’s inside the room. He’s enjoying this way too much.

There’s no way he doesn’t know what I want to ask.

“I… um, so I’ve been dating your sister for a few years,” Chan starts.

Minho actually snorts. “Yes, I’m aware.”

Chan can feel the tips of his ears turning bright red. “Right. Um, I just wanted your approval for – I’m planning to – well, with your permission, of course –”

The smirk on Minho’s face only grows with each stuttering word that comes out of Chan’s mouth. And in all honesty, he actually has no idea what he’s saying. All of the sentences he rehearsed in his head before coming here seem to have completely flown out of his brain, and from Minho’s expression, he just sounds like an idiot.

He keeps going anyway, because nervous Chan doesn’t always make the best decisions to make himself look good.

“Well – um, look, I just really love her a lot.” Chan looks down with the admission, knowing he’s definitely rambled too much already, but he needs to get on with it and ask the stupid question. “I… wantedtoaskifyouwouldbeokaywithmeaskingtomarryher.”

Minho leans forward, eyes innocently wide. “Sorry, I didn’t get that, can you repeat what you said again?”

Lee Minho, you are a grade-A asshole.

Face burning, Chan clears his throat. “I wanted to ask if you would be okay with me asking to marry her. Your sister, I mean.”

Silence. Minho leaves him in silence for five whole seconds which feel more like five millennia. Chan thinks he’s going to crumble into dust on the floor out of terror and embarrassment.

“Do you have a ring?” Minho finally asks.

Chan’s cheeks burn redder. “Not… not yet.”

“So you’ll need help picking one, then?” The dancer raises one perfect eyebrow.

“… Yes?”

“Beautiful. I’ll be there whenever you need me.” Minho smiles. “Anything else you wanted to ask?”

Chan just stands there, dumbfounded. “So… is your answer yes?”

The smile immediately drops off of Minho’s face, replaced by an eye roll and a sigh. “Yes, Bang Chan, you idiot.” He punches Chan’s shoulder. “No one’s ever going to fully deserve Y/N, but you’re the closest I think anyone’s going to get. You really thought I’d say no?”

Rubbing his arm, Chan smiles sheepishly. “You can’t blame me for being nervous.”

“What? Nervous, around me?” Minho laughs, sharp and loud. Even though Chan knows he’s teasing, it’s still a bit frightening. “Never would’ve thought that.”

“You’re just proving my point,” Chan says.

“No, I’m not.” Minho smiles, close-lipped and slit-eyed. It’s terrifying. “Now, off you go. And don’t come back unless you need help picking a ring!”

It takes Chan five minutes of sitting in the hallway, garnering strange looks from several people passing by, before his legs are stable enough to take him back to his own studio. Heart still pounding, he mentally crosses a line through step one.

Next comes step two. Chan purses his lips. Step two is a bit less scary than step one (mostly because it involves children and not Lee Minho), but no less challenging.

Well, he got through Minho. Chan sighs. He just has to hope that the kids will be as receptive to the idea of a new parent as Minho was to a brother-in-law.

. . . . .

The kids know that you and Chan are at least, in some shape or form, together. They might not understand the nuances, like how you’re technically dating but don’t always refer to yourselves as boyfriend and girlfriend (because it just feels so much deeper than that, somehow), but they understand that you two “like” each other (Jisung pretends to vomit every time he hears the word “love,” so Chan just uses the word “like” to avoid that) and thus live together.

They love it, most of the time. Hyunjin was a little put out when he found out he would have to share a room with two other boys, but after Minho moved out and Hyunjin realized he would get his uncle’s old (and slightly bigger) room, he happily accepted the new plan. Jisung and Felix were mostly just happy to live with their best friend.

(Children, Chan just thinks. They’re so easy and so hard to please.)

Of course, there are difficulties. Jisung’s sensitive and has more than once broken down when he thinks Chan isn’t giving him enough attention with a new boy in the household. Felix’s tantrums are rarer, but they exist, and Hyunjin is still getting used to sharing his mom with someone else.

They’re a family, though, a messy, mostly happy family that can pull together at the end of the day and whisper “I love yous” to each other before bedtime. And that’s something Chan values more than anything in the world.

Which is why obtaining his kids’ approval for officially tying the knot is something so important to him.

He gathers them together one day in the apartment with the promise of watching a cartoon show after he asks them something. Three pairs of big eyes stare up at him from the couch, and Chan feels his heart melting with love and racing with anxiety.

Chan takes a breath. “Do you know what marriage is?”

“Yeah!” Jisung pipes up. “It’s when a girl and a boy get together and kiss!”

The laughter spills out of Chan’s mouth before he can even think. “Well, not quite, Jisung,” he chokes out, trying to stifle his remaining giggles. “It’s when two people who love each other very much get together officially. Marriage can be between a woman and a man, a man and a man, or a woman and a woman. Any two people can get married.”

Three small heads bob their heads in understanding.

“I wanted to ask you three if you would be okay with me marrying Y/N.” Chan looks each of the boys in the eye. “Is it?”

Felix nods quickly. “Yes!”

Jisung furrows his eyebrows. “Are we still going to live together?”

Chan smiles. “Yes, Sungie.”

The other twin nods. “Okay!”

Hyunjin’s mouth pouts slightly. “Will I have to call you Papa?”

A little piece of Chan’s heart breaks, but he tries not to show it. “No, of course not, Hyunjin.” He smiles as brightly as he can. “You can keep calling me Channie or Uncle Channie or whatever you want. You don’t have to call me Papa if you don’t want to.”

Hyunjin’s round, dark eyes gaze into his with a solemnity Chan honestly didn’t know toddlers could have. “Do you want me to call you Papa?”

Oh, fuck.

What the hell does Chan say to that?

With a sigh, he decides to be honest. “I would love it if you did, Hyunjin, but like I said, you don’t have to. I’ll never force you to do something you really don’t want to.”

There are a few seconds of silence, then Hyunjin nods. “Okay. You can marry my Mama.”

A weight lifts itself off of Chan’s chest and he smiles, freer this time. “Thank you, kids. One more thing – don’t tell Y/N about this!” He looks into each of their eyes, trying to convey how serious he is but in a fun way. “It’s a secret, okay?”

“Like a spy mission?” Jisung bounces in excitement.

The smile on his face widens. “Yes, Sungie. Like a spy mission.” He looks at the other two boys. “Do you promise? Pinky promise?” He holds out his pinkie.

The three resulting shouts of “YES!” make Chan hope their neighbors won’t come knocking. But even if they did, Chan thinks, he wouldn’t care.

He’d go to the ends of the earth to defend these three kids, after all.

. . . . .

Step three goes by in a flash. Out of sheer anxiety, Chan actually takes a full day off from work and calls Minho for help in finding the perfect ring.

Miraculously, he finds something within his budget range – a silver band with a small diamond set in the center. It’s simple but elegant, and the diamond glints beautifully in the sunlight. Really, the ring matches the way Chan often finds himself summing up your existence.

So only the last step remains: the actual proposal.

Looking back, Chan has no idea why he thought each of the other steps was so stressful. This is pure stress, he thinks, waiting for the perfect time to pop the question. Should he plan something extravagant? Or should he just go with the flow? When is the perfect time, anyway? What constitutes “perfect” in your mind? In his?

Minho just tells him to wait for the moment he thinks is “right.” But what the hell does “right” even mean?

“You’ll figure it out.” The dancer gives Chan a bright grin, patting his shoulder. “And if you don’t, I’ll tear you limb from limb.”

Chan just puts his face in his hands and screams.

. . . . .

When Chan proposes, the sky is dark. The kids are already tucked in bed, and you’re sitting on the couch, leaning into his shoulder as you mindlessly scroll through your phone.

Absently strumming his guitar, Chan smiles down at your face, illuminated by your phone’s glow. As if sensing him staring, you look up as well. “Sing me something?” you murmur.

“Of course, love.” He leans down to kiss the top of your head. “What song?”

“Anything you choose,” you reply. “Anything.”

Chan thinks for a moment, then starts strumming the instrument.

Softly, with mood, tightly hug her

Use it once a day, every day…

When your eyes meet hers, smile.

The characteristic chords of one of your favorite songs make you relax even further into Chan’s body, a smile blooming across your face. He badly wants to stop playing and just kiss you good and full, but he keeps his fingers strumming the guitar.

Let her breathe under a different sky, a different wind,

Sometimes, kiss her without a plan…

Chan almost stops playing.

Without a plan.

He doesn’t have a plan. He doesn’t have any proper plan on how he’s going to pull the little box out of his pocket and ask the question. But now…

Maybe he’s got an idea.

The final chords die away, and Chan finally gets his long-awaited kiss when you sit up lethargically, pressing your lips to his softly. “Are you awake enough for one more?” he whispers when you pull away.

“Mm, one more.” You nod happily, snuggling back into his side. “Then sleep.”

Chan takes a breath. One chance, Chan. This is your chance.

His fingers start strumming a song very familiar by now to him and the boys. From the way your eyes light up, you recognize it too.

It doesn’t have words. It’s just a collection of guitar chords, hastily arranged in a sweet, rough melody. In the track version, it would have piano, but because Chan only has two hands, he has to make do with just the strings of the guitar.

It’s the first song he ever wrote for his twins, the song he created that day so many years ago when they weren’t even born, when they were still kicking in their mother’s stomach. They think of it as their family song, the song he plays when the twins are sad, when they can’t get to sleep, or when they just want to hear something nice.

The last strains of the song fade away and Chan looks at you to see a tear glittering on your cheek. “You play that when the boys are sad,” is all you say. “It’s your family song.”

Chan smiles softly. “But you’re part of the family too.”

When he pulls out the box, your eyes widen. “Chan –”

“Shh.” He presses a finger gently to your lips. “Y/N, the past few years you’ve been with me have been some of the best of my life, and I can’t ever thank you enough for staying with me all this time.” There’s a tear welling up in Chan’s eye, but he blinks it away. “I would love to spend the rest of my life with you, if you would marry me.”

There’s a moment of silence that nearly gives Chan a heart attack. What if you say no?

“You – you stupid romantic sap.” The tears are really sliding down your cheeks now, but your mouth is smiling wide. “Yes, of course I’ll marry you, Chan. I’ll marry you.”

Chan can’t speak as he slides the ring onto your finger with trembling hands. Throat choked, he can only pull you close, burying his face in your shoulder as your tears soak his shirt. “I love you so much,” you whisper.

He pulls back just enough for to see your eyes sparkling with love, so much love. Your touch intoxicates him, with your fingers pressing gently against his skin as you press your lips to his in a sweet, sweet kiss.

Yes, he thinks. You’re the right partner for him.

The perfect partner for him.

Teary-eyed, he smiles. “I love you too.”

If you enjoyed, please don’t forget to reblog and leave a comment to tell me what you thought! Thank you for reading and have a lovely day <3

(1 reblog = 1 congratulations for the newly engaged couple!!!)