#and then Dimple came back with food and everything was going to be all right

[brown-little-robin]

story time!

What Happened to Dimple

In late summer, Ritsu got very ill. He couldn't keep any food down and he was too weak to walk. Their limited food supplies were running out in the middle of nowhere, and Dimple was the only functional person in the group. Ritsu was out of it, and obviously Mob, a zombie with no goals except "eat whatever is in front of me" and "hang around with little brother", was little help on the finding-new-food front.

So Dimple had to find some way to keep Ritsu alive.

Before starvation set in, Dimple decided to intervene. It played out okay at first. He tied Ritsu to a tree (tied ropes around his torso, knotted them behind the tree trunk so Ritsu couldn't reach) and took Shigeo with him to go acquire some food from whoever passed by on the road they're traveling on first.

(he took Shigeo because he couldn't leave him with no able-bodied guardian—better to be safe than sorry, especially because. y'know. they're on the edge of starvation, and Shigeo is a zombie. but obviously Ritsu, dehydrated and dizzy, interpreted this as "Dimple Might Be Finally Stealing My Brother" despite Dimple trying to explain.)

(Ritsu didn't really protest, though. he was too weak to do much and also he didn't want to get eaten. he just let it happen. he hoped Dimple would come back. he hoped he was just being paranoid.)

the first food source they ran into, unfortunately, was a group of humans traveling with a cart. Dimple didn't really have qualms about stealing, but he tried asking peacefully first, using his "power over the zombie" (e.g. he convinced Shigeo to take a few steps back and Shigeo obliges him) to demonstrate that they could be a major threat. (he was bluffing, of course. Shigeo wasn't being "held back" by Dimple, he's just vibing.) and he was given food! food and water and even toilet paper and a blanket!

so then Dimple returned to their camp with Mob and the supplies, but the people they stole from were a trap—a convoy that deliberately draws people in so they can gauge parties' strength before stealing from them in return. Dimple and the Kageyama brothers got attacked by one (1) guy with a gun, because that's about all the firepower the convoy thought they needed to risk on this little group.

Dimple could've just given up the supplies and tried again. But the thing was, Ritsu didn't really have enough strength in him for that.

If Ritsu didn't get food and water and rest here, he really might have died. Also, they'd have to give up their ammo, which was what they were planning to trade for food in the next settlement they come to.

Dimple looked around. He looked at Shigeo, a half-baked plan to get Shigeo to Do Something forming, and saw him kneeling by Ritsu, eyes half-lidded, looking unresponsive. but Dimple knew Shigeo's body language by then, and he saw how his shoulders were subtly hunched over toward Ritsu, and instantly Dimple knew that the kid's patience had run out. going away from Ritsu with Dimple had been a big concession and now Shigeo was done.

So. Dimple took the supplies and lured the guy with the gun a little way away from the boys, and then he just straight-up attacked the guy. not with a gun, because he was forced to leave the guns in the camp with Ritsu.

Dimple dropped the supplies and made a move. He got shot, and it was Loud. but it just grazed his shoulder, so he managed to drag the guy away from the supplies. Dimple's goal was to prevent the boys from seeing any more death, and he succeeded.

Ritsu, meanwhile, heard that gunshot.

He'd been sleeping most of the time Dimple was away. He was a little more alert by the time Dimple got back, although still physically wiped. He heard that gunshot and froze. And then, doing rapid calculations and realizing that he was danger if Dimple was dead, he started fighting the ropes. He had to get away he had to get Shigeo away he had to RUN.

He fought the ropes silently at first, and then, slowly, his brain progressed from the logical "if Dimple is dead we're in trouble because that man knows our location" to "Dimple is dead, Dimple is dead". he started making a horrible cry as he tried to get free. He wasn't crying, exactly, didn't let himself relax that much, he was just making this kind of frustrated, despairing wail sound.

Shigeo had been watching Ritsu thrash and wriggle in increasing certainty that something was happening, but he didn't know if it was good or bad. The sound, though, the sound was bad. So he tried to help.

He helped by just pulling on the ropes, first, which broke Ritsu's ribs.

but he stopped when Ritsu made a pain sound and, for one of the first times Ritsu has seen him do this as a zombie, did something related to tool use. he went to the supplies and brought Ritsu a knife.

so the Kageyama brothers survived! yay!

[endless-ineffabilities]

chemical override (14)

Ewan Mitchell x actress!reader

a/n: this took aaaaaaages. I won't keep you. Go right ahead. Check back at the end with moi 💋

series masterlist ▪︎ main masterlist

The Mallorca holiday is not the only thing that ends in this chapter. Ewan and his Darling reckon with the truth, and they have to decide whether it's all worth it. Especially with what's coming...

The rest of the evening goes off without a hitch. It’s as if the stars have aligned and the universe has conspired to give two lovers the perfect date they so deserve after months and months of rolling in the muck.

It could be plain luck, but really, the credit goes to Ewan’s meticulous planning. Before leaving for Spain, he already knew he would have to pull out all the stops to get some proper time alone with you. Away from the rest of the group. And especially away from the guy you’re dating. 

The dedicated artiste in him can find some twisted pleasure in how this area of his life imitates his art. Wouldn’t it be easier to tap into Aemond if some part of him—of Ewan—carries some resentment for Matt?

Ewan had it in him to envision how this series of events would serve as his fuel for the Battle Above the Gods’ Eye. 

So long as he gets you back. As you sit across the candlelit table, he can’t stop staring. His dimples carve themselves deeper with every laugh or glance you throw his way. It’s the kind of brazen adoration that could make a person feel exposed, vulnerable even—but not with you. He could let you dig as deep as you’d like and he will still feel safe. Intoxicating, but in a good way. 

In turn, your eyes become drawn to those crescents on his cheeks, and you display a loving expression of your own. He blossoms under your scrutiny.

You’re in the middle of shoving a forkful of entrée into your mouth, not very demure-like, when he dreamily says, as if in a trance, “Fuck, you’re so beautiful.”

The fork freezes mid-air, and your resulting snort further proves the absurdity of his sentiment. You sure have an almost unguarded way of presenting yourself for a Hollywood actress. Not that it matters with Ewan. You could be clad in nothing but a potato sack and the lad would think the sun shines out of your arse. That being said, the potato sack would allow him easy access to the main source of his bliss—nevertheless—the look he continues to give you proves nothing short of devotion.

“So smooth, Ewan,” you respond, feeling warm all over. “Do you have any other lines, or can I eat my food in peace now?”

“Hey, I’m not stopping you,” he smirks.

“No, you’re just staring.”

“Guess I’m just… making up for lost time,” he expresses, more sincere this time, unable to mask the longing in his tone.

You hold back your snarky retort. The logical side of you wants to believe that the period you spent apart had been necessary, and that both of you grew as people in the interim. He landed the role, you were able to focus on filming, and it was well and good—until it all came crashing down when he broke first that December night. 

If you hadn’t broken things off and the production for Ewan’s film bypassed him, it would have been on your conscience. But maybe your continued romance would have provided some balm for the both of you. 

It’s no use looking back on that now. You both made your choices. And now you stand on the precipice of what could be the end, or the beginning of everything anew. 

He is indulging in his wine when you finally find your words. “I’m sorry, Ewan. For everything.”

He catches on the crack in your voice and the quiver of your lip. His hand shoots across the table to encase yours. “Hey, darling, it’s okay. We’re going to be okay.”

“Are we?”

“Yeah. Look, you know how I feel about you. I love you, and that’s all that matters. Everything else is just noise.”

“But—”

“I’ll always love you,” he pauses, before dropping the words that make your heart clench uncontrollably, “even if you choose him.”

“Oh, Ewan—”

“Don’t get me wrong. It would hurt like a bitch. It would kill me… but I’ll survive, you know what I mean?”

Tears sting your eyes, but you blink them away. “You’re too good to me.”

“No,” he sighs, smiling ruefully. “Thing is, I haven’t been. Not always, and I’ll have to live with that. But whatever makes you happy now… is what I want. It’s all I want.”

“Okay,” you reply, and you mean it. You believe him. 

“So,” he says, his voice a little lighter, “darling, should I be offended that you still haven’t given me my birthday gift?”

Your brows shoot straight up. “Oh? I guess I should have… Well, what would you like?”

Ewan holds your gaze unwaveringly for a moment, waiting for you to catch on to the significance of his impish smirk. You roll your eyes fondly. “Not here, babe. There are other people in this restaurant. It wouldn’t be ideal. Besides, we really shouldn’t give Deuxmoi more fodder for their messed-up blind items.”

A beat of silence, broken by your shared laughter. And the night unfolds perfectly.

You’re halfway to the restaurant’s exit when the inevitable happens—a hesitant voice calls out behind you, stopping you both in your tracks.

“Excuse me?”

You turn to find a young woman, maybe in her early twenties, standing a few steps away. Her phone is clutched tightly in her hands, and her eyes are wide with recognition. “I’m so sorry, I don’t mean to interrupt… but are you… from the show House of the Dragon?”

Ewan freezes for half a second, his brows lifting in surprise, before his easy charm kicks in. “That would be us.”

“Busted,” you add with a grin.

“Oh my God,” the girl whispers, visibly overwhelmed. “Would it… would it be okay if I got a picture? I’m such a huge fan of both of you.”

Ewan glances at you for approval, before he smiles and nods at the girl. “Sure, let’s do it.”

The girl practically vibrates with excitement as she hands her phone to a passing waiter. She giggles nervously, moving in close for the photo, and then you notice her glancing at you in a state of awe. “You’re so beautiful,” she whispers. 

“Damn right, she is,” Ewan says sincerely.

“Thank you so much,” the girl gushes, taking her phone back from the waiter. “You’re both amazing. Really.”

As she walks away, Ewan leans in and mumbles in your ear, “I guess we’re not as inconspicuous as we thought.”

You laugh under your breath. “Let’s get out of here.”

The cool night air greets you two, sporting your superhero masks, the fabric blocking the faint metallic scent of oncoming rain. You make it halfway down the long main street before the sky opens up, the first fat raindrops splashing against the cobblestones. Within seconds, it’s pouring, the rain drenching you both as you scramble for cover.

Ewan pulls you toward a narrow alley, where an aging awning juts out above a shuttered shopfront. The shelter is flimsy at best, but it’s enough to keep the worst of the downpour at bay. You’re both breathless and laughing, your clothes sticking to your skin.

He lifts his mask just enough to show his mouth, a grin tugging at the corners. “Rain’s not so bad, is it?”

You pull your own mask off entirely, shaking out your damp hair as you glance up at him. “Speak for yourself, Spidey. I’m soaked.”

He takes a step closer, his hands sliding gently around your waist. “And yet you look incredible.”

You snort, though your cheeks flush at the usual intensity of his words. “You’re ridiculous.”

“And you’re stunning,” he murmurs, his voice dropping lower. His fingers tighten on your waist, and you can feel the warmth of him even through the cold rain. “C’mere.”

You don’t hesitate. Reaching up, you tug his mask higher, just past his nose, exposing his lips. Then you rise onto your toes, closing the space between you. The kiss is deep, unhurried, and utterly consuming. Rain slides down your face and his, cool droplets mingling with the warmth of your skin. One of his hands moves up to cradle the back of your neck, drawing you impossibly closer to deepen the kiss.

You moan against his mouth, and his heart soars. 

When you finally pull back, you’re both panting, your lips wet and foreheads pressed together.

“You’re unreal, darling,” he whispers, his voice rough with desire. “How did I get so fucking lucky?”

You don’t answer. Instead, you kiss him again, softer this time, as if sealing a promise only the two of you could ever understand.

Matt stands on the villa’s enclosed balcony, nursing a half-empty glass of Rioja and gazing out into the moonlit courtyard. The rain has softened to a mere drizzle, but everyone remains scattered inside the large holiday house. A knot of frustration is growing in his chest. He hadn’t been looking for anything serious when the two of you started seeing each other—at least that’s what he keeps telling himself. But watching you walk hand in hand with Ewan as you enter the gates feels like a punch to the gut.

You pause near the courtyard’s edge, leaning into Ewan’s shoulder as you exchange a few quiet words. Even from this distance, Matt can see the easy intimacy between you—the kind of connection he hasn’t quite managed to reach with you. He drains the rest of his wine in one gulp, the bitterness lingering on his tongue as he sets the glass down on the railing with more force than necessary.

“You know, glaring at them isn’t going to change anything,” comes a familiar, teasing voice.

He turns to find Liv leaning against the doorframe, one brow arched and a knowing smirk on her lips. Unlike him, she seems utterly at ease, as if she’s been waiting for this moment.

“Wasn’t glaring,” he mutters, though the tension in his jaw betrays him.

“Right,” she drawls, stepping onto the balcony. “Just brooding in the dark getting sloshed. Very subtle.”

Matt lets out a low chuckle despite himself, running a hand through his hair. “Subtlety’s overrated, love.”

Liv moves to stand beside him, following his gaze toward the courtyard. You and Ewan are heading inside now, your laughter grating at Matt’s ears as he watches your soaked figures, not that either of you seems to care. 

“You’re not going to make a scene, are you?” Liv asks, her tone light but edged with genuine concern.

He shakes his head. “Course not. We’re professionals.”

“But?” she prompts, tilting her head to study him.

“But it doesn’t mean I’m giving up.” His voice is steady, but there’s a vulnerability beneath it that catches her off guard. “Not yet, anyway.”

“You know I support you,” she says finally, “but there’s a fine line between persistence and masochism.”

He glances at her, his lips twitching into a wry smile. “Well, thanks for the vote of confidence.”

“I’m serious, Matt,” she insists, though her tone softens. “If you’re going to fight for her, do it because you love her, not because you’re afraid of losing.”

Matt looks at her, really looks at her, and for the first time, he notices the faint freckles dusting her nose, the flecks of gold in her deep brown eyes. There’s something unspoken in her gaze—an understanding, perhaps even admiration—and it nearly throws him off balance.

“Thanks,” he says after a moment, his voice quieter. “For the advice.”

“Don’t mention it.” She offers him a small, lopsided smile. “Just don’t make an arse of yourself, yeah? Remember, you are Daemon fucking Targaryen, after all.”

He chuckles, shaking his head. “That I am.”

As she turns to leave, Matt finds himself watching her for a beat longer than necessary, a thought flickering at the edge of his mind. But he pushes it aside, refocusing on the task ahead. You’re still inside, still within reach…

But no. 

He’s not ready to let you go—not yet. But the truth is, you were never his to hold onto. Maybe you never had been.

The vacation winds down far too quickly, as such things always do. Bags are packed and lined against walls, the last remnants of a shared holiday ready to disperse back to their separate lives.

Louise moves through the villa with her phone in hand, snapping selfies with everyone in sight. Her laughter is infectious as she cajoles even the most camera-shy among the cast to join. Namely, Ewan Mitchell. She’s especially persistent with him, sneaking in shots when he isn’t looking or pulling others into the frame to get him to relax.

Freddie and Tom take one last dip in the pool, their shouts and splashes echoing through the courtyard. They’re trying to see who can hold their breath underwater the longest, both acting like overgrown kids unwilling to admit the holiday is ending. Bethany and Phia, meanwhile, are busy tidying up the kitchen. Somehow, they manage to rope in a few of the guys to help, using mock threats of withholding night-out invitations to get the job done.

You sit in the quiet of the villa’s courtyard, the sunrise emerging low on the horizon, painting the scene in hues of gold and amber. You find yourself enjoying the stillness, savouring this pocket of calm before reality rushes back in.

But the peace is short-lived. A familiar voice calls your name, and you glance up to see Matt approaching with his deliberate gait, his eyes shaded with an emotion you’re almost afraid to name. 

You know he knows. You know it’s time.

“Hey,” he says, stopping a few feet away. The air between you is charged, heavy with things unsaid, but perhaps these very same things have lingered since the beginning of your little romance.

“Hey,” you mirror softly, already knowing where this conversation is heading.

He gestures toward the empty chair beside you. “Mind if I join?”

You shake your head, and he takes the seat, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees. For a moment, neither of you speaks. The sounds of the villa fill the silence—distant chatter, everyone fussing and unaware of what’s unraveling between yourself and Matt. 

Finally, he breaks the quiet. “I’ve been thinking about us. About… what comes next.”

You’re not surprised. You had seen the tension in his jaw last night, the flicker of frustration in his eyes as you returned to the villa hand in hand with Ewan. You’d known this conversation was inevitable.

“Matt…” you start, but he holds up a hand, stopping you.

“Just… let me say this first,” he says, his voice steady but tinged with vulnerability. “I know things between us weren’t supposed to get complicated. And I know I wasn’t looking for something serious when we started this. But somewhere along the way, that changed for me.”

He shifts, his fingers threading together as he searches for the right words. “I don’t regret any of it. Not a single moment. But I also know I can’t hold onto something that was never really mine to begin with.”

Your chest tightens at his words, taking in the raw honesty in his tone. You reach out, placing a hand over his. “You mean a lot to me, Matt. You really do. But…”

“But it’s him, isn’t it?” he finishes for you, his smile stiff and not reaching his eyes. “It’s always been him.”

You want to nod, but it doesn’t feel right. You worry that any sort of affirmation from you at this moment would be too cruel. Salt in his wound. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for this to happen.”

“I know,” he says simply. He leans back, exhaling deeply as he tilts his head as he gazes at you. “While I still have you, my love… while you’re still here with me… mind if I steal one last kiss?”

His words take you by surprise, but the sincerity in his eyes makes you nod. He leans in, his hand cupping your cheek as his lips meet yours. The kiss is gentle, filled with bittersweet yearning, and when he pulls away, there’s a sense of finality in his gaze.

“I would have been the happiest man if you let me fall in love with you,” he murmurs, his thumb brushing softly against your cheek, “my Alyna.”

Then he rises, giving you one last lingering look before turning and walking away.

The memory of that night plays in your mind as you sit on the plane, your hand intertwined with Ewan’s. He’s staring out the window, his profile bathed in the soft glow of the light streaming from the window. You’re both quiet, but his thumb strokes idly against the back of your hand, a silent reassurance of his presence.

The flashback is vivid—Matt’s earnestness, the way he had let you go with grace. But even in that moment, there had been no doubt in your mind. It had always been Ewan. From the moment you met him, from the way he looks at you now as if you are the only thing in the world that matters, you knew. Every detour, every mistake, every painful scenario had only ever led you back to him.

Ewan turns to you then, his eyes soft and searching. “You okay, darling?”

You nod, squeezing his hand. “Just thinking.”

“About what?” he asks, his tone gentle.

You hesitate for a moment before answering. “About how lucky I am.”

Those damn dimples appear as he smiles. “Funny. I was just thinking the same thing.”

You laugh softly, leaning your head against his shoulder. The steady rhythm of his breathing soothes you as your eyes flutter shut, and for the first time in a long while, you feel truly at peace. The past is behind you, and the future—whatever it may hold—is something you’re ready to face together.

As the plane cuts through the clouds, carrying you both to LA, you let the weight of the last few months fall away. Your boyfriend’s arm wraps around you, anchoring you with him in the present. And everything feels exactly as it should.

The elevator doors slide open with a soft chime, and the two of you barely make it into the hallway before your lips clash again. The mimosas from the bar downstairs left a faint tang in your mouth, but Ewan’s familiar taste is just as sharp as he slides his tongue past your lips. His hands grip your face with sheer desire as he kisses you, his body pressing you against the wall outside your suite.

You fumble with the room key, laughing breathlessly against his lips when the thin piece of plastic slips from your fingers. “Ewan,” you groan, “if you don’t let me get the door open, we’re going to scandalise the hotel staff.”

His teeth grazes the curve of your jaw as he growls softly, “Don’t care. Let them watch, darling.”

The lock finally clicks, and the two of you tumble inside, the door swinging shut with a muted thud behind you. He kicks off his shoes without a thought, already reaching for the zipper at the back of your dress. His fingers are skilled, traversing the familiar territory of your curves, impatiently hitching the fabric down to your hips.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he murmurs, his accent curling deliciously around the words as his gaze devours every inch of you. 

Your hands aren’t idle either, tugging his shirt over his head and raking your nails lightly down his chest. He hisses at the sensation, his muscles tensing under your touch. “God, I missed this,” you purr, your lips following the path of your hands.

“Missed you,” he counters, pulling you closer until there isn’t a breath of space left between you. The queen-sized bed is only a few steps away, but neither of you seem to care, too lost in the frenzy of lips, teeth, tongue, and hands.

When he finally lifts you into his arms and carries you to the mattress, he lays you down with a gentleness that belies the hunger in his eyes and the world stands still as he hovers over you.

“I need you, my darling,” he confesses lowly.

“You have me,” you whisper back, pulling him down to meet your lips once more.

What follows is a collision of need and intimacy, a desperate reclamation of what had always been yours. 

The next morning, sunlight pours through the sheer curtain of your hotel room. The soft sounds of downtown LA waking up filter through the window. You snuggle against him, his arm lazily draped around your waist, your bare skin pressed together under the tangled sheets. It had been a long, passionate night of lovemaking. Leave it to Ewan to make up for months of lost time in a matter of hours. 

He presses a sleepy kiss to your shoulder, his voice still groggy with sleep. “Good morning, love.”

You smile, closing your eyes again as his lips brush your temple. This is peace—a fleeting, beautiful pocket of bliss. But peace isn’t destined to last, especially not for those in your profession.

Something will get brought up, unearthed, stirred. 

Meanwhile, across the internet, chaos has erupted. 

A Daily Mail article runs alongside blurry paparazzi photos of you and Matt in Spain and an older photo of you sharing a laugh on a date with Ewan in LA. The headline screams betrayal: “Caught Between Two Dragons: Actress Allegedly Juggled Co-Stars Matt Smith and Ewan Mitchell During Spain Getaway!” The story spins a salacious tale, claiming you had been seen cozying up to Matt before jetting off with Ewan.

Of course, TMZ can be relied on to publish the most unreliable piece, alleging that Ewan became involved with you while still publicly linked to Jenna. Photos of Ewan and you with fans in Spain were put side by side with those of him and Jenna smiling at each other in interviews. “Sources claim Mitchell has been sneaking around, one girlfriend from his TV show set and one from his upcoming film set…”

A Deuxmoi post soon follows, fueling the fire with even more speculation. “Spotted: rising actress allegedly two-timing her co-stars,” it reads, accompanied by grainy photos that should be anything but believable. There’s a shot of you and Ewan at the cozy, private dinner in Mallorca, looking every bit like a couple, followed by a picture—clearly taken from a distance—of you and Matt sharing that bittersweet goodbye kiss on the villa terrace. Louise’s sneaky photo has gone viral, misinterpreted and plastered across social media.

The story is twisted, of course—context lost in the frenzy of assumptions and rumours. But the truth rarely matters to the public. The narrative has already taken on a life of its own, the whispers and pointed fingers spreading,  along with the swelling tide of judgment from people who don’t know you, or the situation, at all.

The internet is divided.

Fans on Twitter rally in support.

“I don’t care what the tabloids say—she and Ewan belong together. The chemistry doesn’t lie.”

“They’re all adults; let them figure it out. The press needs to stop pitting people against each other.”

But the criticism was harsh, too.

“If she’s been playing both sides, that’s low. Poor Matt.”

“They're both cheaters. They deserve each other.”

“This is such a PR mess. Just admit it if you’re together!”

Back in the hotel room, the chaos of the outside world is a distant hum—until your phone buzzes incessantly on the nightstand. You groan, reaching for it, but Ewan pulls you back to his chest.

“Don’t,” he murmurs against your neck. “I don’t wanna share you with the world just yet, darling. You’re all mine.”

Everyone can speculate, criticise, gossip, and whatnot, but none of that noise matters when you’re in the arms of the one you love. 

The world can fuckin’ wait.

Taglist: @namelesslosers @skymoonandstardust @valyrianflower @luckyfirebasement @omgsuperstarg @elissanatok @callsignwidow @sinistersnakey49 @darkwriteracademia @yyrzmomo @queenofshinigamis @luvaerina @shamelessblazecrown @mirandastuckinthe80s @elleinex0x0 @pierrotlu @aegonswife @strangersunghoon @lunampacheco @writer-ann-artist @gaiaea @of-swords-and-words @ateliefloresdaprimavera @m00n5t0n3 @helaenaluvr @peachysunrize @annie-ruk @luvly-writer @ananas26t @athenafaes @lovelyteenagebeard @mamawiggers1980 @moongirl27 @katherine93 @barnes70stark @justbelljust @cloudroomblog @somestufftoday @esposadomd @girl-in-the-chairs-void @insideyourimagination @vyctorya @wildrangers @onlyrealjoy @hotdismylife @thepurplecrown @just-fics-station @clarkysblog @urmomsgirlfriend1 @misfitbimbosblog (continued...)

Some notes in the margins...

If this reads like I'm trying to rediscover my footing in this story, that's cause I am. Trust me, I am not satisfied with this chapter. But I am also my own biggest critic...

Can you guess which scene(s) I slacked on?

Plus, the way I talked big game about the supposedly legendary smut scene. I just... could not. For now. I reckon it'll be a bonus chapter soon.

More drama! More drama! At least it's just them two now 😉

[deliciousbasementtrash]

Playing Nurse for the Batfam

From Batman: Wayne Family Adventures #67-69 on Webtoon; Artist Inker Starbite

Summary: you are a nurse working for Gotham General Hospital. Batman has offered you a job. You are meeting the whole family for the first time. What could go wrong?

Pairing: Slowburn Jason Todd x reader, (maybe a why choose with Dick Grayson as well?? Idk tell me what you guys want)

Warning: Adult language, knife injury

Word Count: 1.5k

Note: These characters are not my own they belong to DC. The only character that is 'mine' is the reader. I am going to be as nondescript as possible for the reader as well for physical attributes. This is a continuation series; I’m not sure how long it will be. Also for some reason, my replies to comments are not showing up. I’m not ignoring your comments Tumblr won’t let me respond :( But please, please comment I live for it 

Part One, Part Two, Part Three

Part Four: Dinner and a Show

Anxiously, I took the napkin from the table and began twisting it vigorously. I felt Alfred leave his seat as he rose to meet his family. I swallowed hard, not wanting to look at all of the people that were entering the room. They just seemed to keep coming. How many people were in Bruce’s family? 

Before I had time to register it a hand was outstretched near me. It nearly made me jump. The stranger cleared his throat and smiled, “Hello, I am Dick Grayson. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.”

In an ungraceful motion, I put the napkin on the table and stood up to greet him properly. I took his hand in mine and firmly shook it. His hands were large, calloused, and a little clammy. It was almost like he was a little nervous to meet me. But that couldn’t be right. 

“Nice to meet you, Dick Grayson. I am y/f/n y/l/n,” I said, trying to make eye contact with him. Dick was an extremely handsome man. He was almost achingly pretty. With his soft blue eyes, dimples, and dark curly hair, he could definitely charm the pants off anyone if he really wanted to. 

His smile grew when our hands met. He just stood there for a moment looking at me, and then he pivoted to the side. He introduced Tim Drake and Duke Thomas. Tim was cordial and did the customary new person greeting, Duke was somewhat rambling. 

“Your powers are truly something to be admired, thank you so much for everything you have done,” Duke said as he excitedly shook my hand. 

I smiled at him and rubbed the back of my neck, “It’s really not that big of a deal but thank you, Duke. You guys are the ones that make the real change.”

Duke opened his mouth as if he were going to disagree, but a red-headed woman with glasses wheeled up to us and joined the conversation. 

“You boys are hogging her. Hello, I am Barbara Gordon. This is Cass, she doesn’t say much, and this is Stephanie, she says too much.”

I greeted them both, slightly overwhelmed by the amount of new people. I was trying my best to act ‘normal’ and be as social and charming as I could be. A younger boy who strongly resembled Bruce stood far away from me. He surveyed the room, taking in the reactions. He seemed so serious for his age. I wasn’t sure if I should make the introduction or not. 

“Where is Jason?” Bruce asked the room. 

“He is running late,” Dick said, “he said he had some ‘other shit that needed to get done first.’”

Faintly, I saw Bruce tense, but just as quickly as it came, it went. “Alright, everyone leave y/n alone and go sit down.”

On my right, there was Alfred, who felt my anchor to the world. On my left, there was Dick Grayson, who felt like he was trying to get me to smile and laugh every chance he got. 

The table soon became loud with conversations that finally were not about me. However, I felt eyes on me the whole night. Damian Wayne was across from me, staring at me the whole time like I was an intruder. 

“So, you are a healer,” Damian said, skeptically. 

I swallowed a bite of food and nodded, “I am.”

“What can you heal?” Damian asked, twirling his dinner knife in the air. 

“Flesh wounds, broken bones, blood loss, head injury, organ injury,” I trailed off not knowing what else to say. 

“How does it work?” His eyes narrowed at me.

“I’m not really sure. It’s as natural for me as breathing or blinking.”

“What are your–” Damien asked but then Bruce interrupted. 

“Son, you do not need to vet our guest. Let her enjoy herself.” 

Damien was suspicious of me and curious I wanted the boy to feel comfortable, “It’s okay, Bruce. It’s natural to be curious about it. What other questions do you have for me, Damien?’

“What are your limits?” Damien asked.

I felt the table go quiet. They all were curious and wanted to know my weaknesses. I instinctually did not want to answer, but I knew that if I wanted to be accepted I would need to be vulnerable and honest. 

“I cannot heal a majority of terminal illnesses. Spinal injuries can go one way or the other it depends on the severity. I cannot heal tumors. And…. and healing is draining. If I am not smart about it, I can make myself sick.”

“Sick how?” Dick asked, leaning in. 

“Well, it’s hard to explain. When I healed Bruce, it was after my shift at the hospital, I barely ate that day or slept the night before. So, when I put all that energy into healing him, it was exhausting. I nearly passed out on the ground next to him. When I got home, I slept for 16 hours straight. That is a more mild case though, it can get more… severe.”

“I wasn’t aware of that,” Bruce mumbled. 

The boyish charm on Dick’s face vanished, “How severe can it get?”

“Oh, you know tremors, fever, bloody noses, vomiting, seizures. It can get bad. I’ve learned my limits the hard way, but I’ve learned them. Growing up my limits were more extreme. I couldn’t heal a paper cut without getting a headache. Small stuff like cuts and bruises doesn’t bother me at all now though. It barely scratches the surface of my limits.”

“Prove it,” Damien said. 

“Excuse me?” I asked, annoyance filling my tone. I can handle his constant questions, but being told to prove it vexed me. 

“You say you can heal cuts and bruises without it ‘scratching the surface.’ Prove it. Prove you’re not a charlatan witch.” It was a movement for a boy too quick for his age he took his dinner knife and sliced along his own arm.

“Damien!” Barbara yelled. Dick leaped across the table but it was too late, blood was already pooling. Bruce and Alfred cursed. 

“Why did we allow Damien to have a knife at dinner?” Tim asked over the yelling. 

“Tim, do you really think we gave him that knife?” Bruce asked, incredulously. 

Anger surged as I slowly made my way around the table full of people yelling until I was in front of Damien. I glared at him as I rested my hands just above his cut. The room became silent as I healed him. The cut closed, and I replenished the blood that he lost. 

Damien looked at me, dumbfounded. The whole room did expect for Bruce and Alfred.

“It’s one thing to hear about it, but to see it… you really are a miracle.” Duke said the words and I flinched from them. 

I looked at Damien and let my anger show through. “I will not heal you if you pull something like this again. I don’t care how much your father pays me. I am not a monkey that will dance for you on a whim. Do not harm yourself to make a point or prove something again.” Damien angrily ripped his arm away from me. I didn’t care. It was unacceptable. He should never hurt himself intentionally like that just because he knows I can heal him. I turned and faced the room, “It was lovely meeting all of you. I hope you all have a nice evening, good night.”

And with that, I turned around and left for the night. Maybe I shouldn’t be as mad as I am right now, but I know I need a moment to myself. I heard light footsteps beside me as someone lightly jogged to catch up.

“I’m sorry about Damien we are still house-training him,” Dick said, trying his best to lighten the mood. 

I didn’t crack a smile, “It’s okay, Dick, really.”

“He can be intense sometimes, well we all can,” ever so lightly he reached up and grabbed my elbow, turning me so I faced him. “We are a lot. We are loud. We are sarcastic. We all think we are right all the time. We fight. We can be obsessive, protective, and socially inept. You will constantly have to patch us up–”

I shook my head, my eyebrows pinched in confusion, “Why are you telling me all of this?”

“You need to know exactly what you are getting into. It won’t be fair to you if you don’t know,” he said, absent-mindedly his thumb stroking the inner part of my elbow. He probably didn’t even know he was doing it, but I was acutely aware of it.

I just nodded, “Thank you for telling me. I appreciate the honesty. Besides, if I can handle my family, I can handle yours. Good night, Dick.”

“Of course, good night, y/n.” It looked like he wanted to say more, but I didn’t have the energy for it. 

I walked toward my room, suddenly so exhausted. I rubbed my eyes with the heels of my palms, and accidentally ran into a wall. 

“Um excuse you,” a deep voice said.

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[ikkyfics]

Hi, I was wondering if it would be possible to request a peter maximoff fic where the reader is a normal human who works in a nearby zoo/with animals, and peter likes visit the zoo to annoy her all the time, but one of her colleagues tells him that the reader would be better off with a human like him and peter gets all insecure and the reader had to let him know that she's not gonna be scared off by his mutation when she literally gets bitten by animals on like a daily basis

On Thursdays

Peter Maximoff x fem!reader

Summary: “‘Don’t ruin everything,’” he repeated, mimicking your voice in an intentionally exaggerated way, a smug smile on his lips. “Oh, come on, sweetie, you practically handed me that confession on a silver platter. You really think I’m going to let that slide?”

Warnings: none

A/N: I'm SO SO SO sorry for the delay, I had some creative problems and only managed to finish it today - seriously, a thousand apologies. I hope the reading is at least fun

Masterlist

Thursday was the day of the guided tour, or in other words, the day Peter Maximoff dedicated himself wholeheartedly to his personal mission of getting on your nerves. He usually showed up without warning, a silver blur through the hallways, startling unsuspecting visitors and leaving you on the verge of yelling at him — something he absolutely loved, by the way. Who could blame him? You looked adorable, with your cheeks flushed and your eyes sparkling with frustration. He said he had a special ability to “rekindle the fire in the eyes of normal humans.”

But today, today he was different.

You noticed it the moment you stepped into the bird section, carrying a basket of food. That area used to be one of his favorite spots, after all. All you had to do was turn your back to a bag of feed and BAM, Peter would be there, imitating the parrots’ squawks or whistling at the toucans, as if he had special permission to be unbearable.

But at that moment, he was sitting on a bench, elbows resting on his knees, his gaze distant. The speed, the sparkle in his eyes, and the confident grin seemed to have been left at home.

“Hey, where’s the trouble today?” you asked, almost casually, even though you could feel the discomfort settling deep in your chest.

He turned his face toward you, offering a weak smile — weak, which was practically an insult coming from him. There was no glint of his dimples, no teasing look. Just the sound of a murmur that made you furrow your brows:

“I don’t know, I guess I got tired of bothering ‘normal humans.’”

You blinked, the bag of feed almost slipping from your fingers.

“What?”

“Forget it.” He shook his head as if regretting having said anything. “It’s just… nothing. I’m taking the day off.”

You set the basket on the ground, crossing your arms. You knew how it was with Peter: either you faced him head-on, or he’d slip away — literally and figuratively.

“Let me guess,” you started, your tone dripping with fake irritation. “You heard some nonsense and now you’re acting like the world’s right.”

He didn’t respond, his gaze fixed on the ground. The wind tousled his silver hair, making it glint under the morning sun. After a while, he muttered softly:

“One of your colleagues said that…” He made a face, as if the words hurt. “That you’d be better off with ‘someone normal.’ That I should stop bothering you.”

For a moment, you just blinked. The silence that followed was broken by the annoying sound of a parrot, who whistled loudly.

“And you heard that and believed it?” Your voice came out louder than you’d intended.

“I didn’t believe it, but…” He shrugged, avoiding your gaze. “I didn’t want you to have to deal with it. With me.”

Now, the feed bag slipped from your hand, hitting the ground with a dull thud.

“Listen here, Peter Maximoff,” you moved closer, finger pointed at him. “First: you don’t bother me. Second: I actually love when you show up with that annoying habit of trying to irritate me. And third: ‘normal’? Normal?! I work with animals every day, do you realize that? I’ve been bitten, pecked, scratched, and once, even a monkey tried to steal my radio.” You paused dramatically, your face flushed with frustration. “I deal with fierce feathered and clawed killers daily, so cut the crap thinking you’re gonna scare me.”

Peter finally lifted his eyes, surprised. A soft laugh escaped his lips.

“You call little birds and squirrels ‘fierce killers’?” he teased, but there was a new sparkle in his eyes, something that felt more like… him.

“Some squirrels are pretty sinister, okay?” you shot back, chin raised. “And the issue here isn’t them. The issue is you thinking there’s no place for you here.”

He opened his mouth to respond, but you continued, more serious now:

“The truth is, I love the silver blur you leave behind wherever you go. I love watching you smile when you think you’re winning an argument. And, for your information, your visits are the best — and the most annoying — part of my week.”

There was a pause, one of those moments where the air feels lighter and the world quieter. Then, Peter smiled. For real. His dimples were back, along with the teasing gleam in his eyes.

“So, you admit you love it when I show up. I knew it.” He stood up, shoving his hands into his jacket pockets. “That’s basically a declaration, you know?”

“Don’t ruin everything,” you muttered, trying not to smile as well.

Peter couldn’t resist and let out a low laugh, the kind that made his chest vibrate and his smile widen, with his dimples clearly visible. He seemed much more like the Peter you knew — or at least, like the Peter who made it his mission to annoy you every week.

“‘Don’t ruin everything,’” he repeated, mimicking your voice in an intentionally exaggerated way, a smug smile on his lips. “Oh, come on, sweetie, you practically handed me that confession on a silver platter. You really think I’m going to let that slide?”

You rolled your eyes, but your face was burning. Of course, he wasn’t going to forget it. You could have stayed quiet, but no, you had to open your mouth and practically admit that you liked his presence — the silver blur he left behind, his charmingly irritating smile, and even his provocations.

“You’re the worst,” you murmured, looking around as if you were searching for an escape route. But he was right there, standing in your way, as if he was making sure to block any attempt you might have to escape the situation.

“And you like me anyway,” he retorted, leaning slightly forward, his eyes shining with mischief and a crooked smile that seemed especially sharp.

“I don’t like you,” you lied, your tone defiant, but your voice came out softer than you intended, almost a whisper. His gaze locked onto yours, full of certainty, making you blush even more.

“No?” Peter raised an eyebrow, his lips curling into a smirk. “Then why are you so red? Is it hot today?”

You huffed, looking away and crossing your arms, as if that would hide the fact that he was absolutely right. Damn it. Why did he have to be this way? So unbearable and charming at the same time?

“Stop being so full of yourself,” you grumbled, still not looking at him.

“Full of myself? Me?” He placed a hand on his chest, feigning an overly dramatic offended expression. “I’m a humble man. See how you treat me? Just because I’m too fast for you, little human.”

“Little human?” You glared at him with mock indignation.

“Yeah, well. You said you deal with animals all day, so I thought it was a term of endearment,” he said, shrugging and giving you an innocent enough look. “What’s wrong? Did you like it?”

You rolled your eyes for the thousandth time that day, but couldn’t stop a smile from escaping. It was impossible to talk to him without feeling like you were being dragged into his own game — a game you didn’t even want to win, deep down.

Peter tilted his head, watching you with a sudden intensity that made your cheeks heat up once more. He seemed at ease again, back in his element, as if all the insecurity that had made him look down had evaporated into the air.

“What is it now?” you asked, unable to endure that look for too long.

“I’m just thinking,” he started, his voice slow and teasing, “about what my next grand entrance will be next Thursday. I’m torn between showing up riding a pony or bringing a full orchestra to play while I walk towards you.”

“My God,” you whispered, covering your face with your hands. “You’re unbearable.”

“And yet,” he replied, leaning closer to you, “I’m starting to think you wouldn’t trade me for one of those sinister squirrels you mentioned.”

You lowered your hands, feeling a sudden surge of courage rise to the tip of your tongue. Maybe it was because he was so convinced. Maybe it was because you were tired of pretending you didn’t like it when he showed up, smiled, and messed up your whole day.

“Not gonna ask me out?” you blurted out without thinking.

The expression on his face froze, and it was worth all the embarrassment that came right after.

For less than a second — which, you imagined, must have felt like an eternity to him — Peter Maximoff was speechless. He blinked, eyes wide, mouth slightly open. You could almost see the racing thoughts running through his head, like a train with no brakes.

“What?” he finally managed to murmur, his voice almost hoarse.

“You heard me,” you replied, crossing your arms, trying to sound more confident than you felt. “Or are you just fast physically and slow mentally?”

The shock on his face dissolved into a wide, surprised grin, his cheeks taking on a light rosy tint that honestly made you feel a little powerful. Peter Maximoff was embarrassed. You could add that to your résumé.

“Well… I wasn’t expecting that turn,” he admitted, running a hand through his silver hair and looking away for a second. “But now that you’ve asked…”

He straightened up, returning to his Confident Peter mode, a mischievous gleam in his eyes.

“Want to go to dinner with me?” he asked, his smile softened by something sweet enough that it couldn’t just be teasing.

You smiled, pretending to think for a moment.

“Only if you promise not to beat me to the restaurant.”

“Oh, I promise nothing,” he replied, his tone mischievous. “But, little human, you just gave me the perfect day. I’ll make sure to pick you up, you’re going to love running with me.”

“Is there still time for me to change my mind?”

“Not in a million years,” he answered, and before you could think of any reply, he vanished. Only the silver blur remained behind, accompanied by a gust of wind that messed up your hair.

You stood there, alone for a second, smiling at the empty space and feeling your heart race faster than it should.

And then, almost as if he was still nearby, his voice echoed in the back of your mind:

Next Thursday is going to be the best one yet.

And you believed it.

[bethelighthalazia]

ATEEZ OT8 - Asking Y/N to move in

Summary:  ot 8 and how they ask you to move in with them

Genre: fluff

Pairing: OT8 x reader (separate drabbles)

Word Count:  n/a

Warnings: none

[ note: this is just a drabble that came to my mind last night, hope you like it! Please let me know what you guys think of this little headcanon :3 RE-UploaD from @/justsomedreaming ]

Seonghwa

You and him are cuddling on his bed, his fingers drawing patterns on your back while the two of you watch a movie. When he paused it all of a sudden, you frown, looking up at his face, confused.

“You should move in here, love.” He'd say, smiling down at a speechless you, your eyes sparkling. Then he'd resume the movie, thinking that you might need more time. Your whispered “yes please” causes him to pull you into his arms, happy that you agreed to moving in together.

Hongjoong

He'd send you a text saying ‘we have to talk, come to the studio tonight?’ and your nerves laid blank all day. The amount of clumsy accidents throughout the day is very high, because your mind is caught with Hongjoong's message. Will he break up? What did you do? 

When you arrive at his studio, you're a wreck, starting to cry and beg him to not break up with you the moment you step in and look at him. Joong is mortified, confused as to why you would think that. “Wha- no! I wanted to talk about you moving in with me!” He'd say, panicking and pulling you into his arms to calm you down. It takes almost an hour in which you switch between crying and scolding him for scaring you like this.

Yunho

He'd take you out on a date, completely with reservations at the fanciest restaurant, flowers and everything. At first, you'd wonder if you forgot a birthday or anniversary, but you couldn't think of anything like this.

After ordering your food, he'd take your hand across the table, smiling so completely in love, his eyes almost sparkling. “Y/n, my love…would you move in with me?” He'd ask, all flustered and shy, and getting out a little box with a key to the dorms, a pink ribbon attached to it. You'd act as if you have to think for a few moments, watching him squirm a bit, but then you nod and he looks like the happiest golden retriever ever.

Yeosang

You spent almost all day at his place, but now that it's evening, you're getting ready to head home. Before you could leave though, he takes your hand in his, looking a little pouty.

“I don't want you to go.” He'd mumble, almost a little whiney. “I gotta go home, Yeo. We'll see each other tomorrow again.” “No, stay please. Just make this here your home? I will give you the keys right away.” His words leave you speechless for a moment, but then you nod, kissing him. He's happy that you will move in with him.

San

Like every afternoon, you're on your way to your boyfriend San, but you stop in the doorway to his room at the sight in front of you. He's sitting on the ground, assembling a second closet and his bed is bigger.

“Sannie, what's-” “You'll need a closet and we have more space on the bed. For when you move in with me!” He'd announce happily, your hesitation making him deflate though. “You- will you move in with me?” He'd ask quietly and when you nod, he'd jump up and hug and kiss you, smiling with his stupid adorable dimples again.

Mingi

He'd be fidgety all day, nervous even, but you couldn't tell why. Mingi had thought about this for weeks now, he's happy with you, he loves you, so why would this be so hard?

In the end, he'd forget about all the things he wanted to say and just holds out a key to his place to you, looking at you with those beautifully innocent puppy eyes of his, no need for words at this moment. When you nod and kiss him gently after taking the key, he'd let out the breath he was holding in, happy and excited for you to move in with him.

Wooyoung

When you arrive at his place, you stop because you see a moving truck in front of his place. And you see him and the guys carrying stuff inside, stuff that looks like yours. 

“Jung Wooyoung, care to explain why my stuff is here?” You'd ask, causing him to freeze in place, the others looking at him surprised. They thought you knew. “Yah! You're moving in with me, jagi! I hate when you leave in the evening, so you live here now.” This man! You can't even be mad at him though, especially when he looks at you with those puppy eyes and the tiny pout. “Fine…” “yay, I love you so much, jagi!”

Jongho 

Jongho would ask you right away one day after you watched their dance practice. He'd sit down with you, smiling and taking a sip of his water before looking at you with a serious face.

“Y/n, what do you think about moving in with me?” He'd ask, calm and almost as if you're talking about the dance practice. It takes you by surprise, but the butterflies on your stomach and the blush on your face are enough to make him smile. “I- I would love that actually, Jongho.” You'd say which, to everyone's surprise, earns a happy squeak from the man. It seems like he's very happy about your answer.

taglist: @mingis-mizu, @tinyelfperson

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[flemingsgirl]

We got this pt. 3

Masterlist

As the month flew by, Viv takes big steps in her recovery and forward her being able to play again. With you along the hard and long way, she found strength to keep going, staying positive. Always keeping her occupied, she visits your games, or you stay with her on the straps as Arsenal was playing. Marking the month after her surgery, you guys went on several dates, in restaurants, museums, or casual strolls around parks. You two decide to take the next step and decide to level your relationship to girlfriends.

"I’m heading to an appointment, but afterwards I’m all yours.”

"What kind of?"

"Nothing bad, just with the manager."

"Okay, liefje. See you soon. Any wishes for lunch?”

"Anything you make tastes delicious, surprise me.”

"All right, doing my best."

"You are the best,” you click your tongue.

"Such a charmer.”

"I’ve got so much more. Maybe I’ll show you later but now I gotta go see you. "

"I keep my eyes open.” You can hear her smile through the phone, how she squeezes her eyes shut and her lips turning up, so her dimples are visible.

Beth and Katie came over for some company they’re looking forward to see you 😊

Over the months Beth was a true friend to Vivianne as she understood her in every situation and could help with emotions different to how you could help her, saying sweet nothings and motivational, showing her the bright side, the positive, keep her going. Katie being Viv’s biggest fan and number one supporter, she was there every step as well cheering as the next milestone was reached.

You ring the bell, and second after, you were greeted by a brunette woman, “Y/N’s here!” Katie shouts back into the house.

"You expecting someone else?” You step next to Viv at the kitchen island where she sits on the bar stool and sling an arm around her back, kissing her cheek, “your other girlfriend?”

"No, no, the girl ordered us food.”

"I’m not even getting your delicious food?” You turn towards the guests. “Thank you guys.”

"Cry me a river,” Katie smirks.

"So what happened at your appointment?”

"Thank you Viv great question,” you face Beth. “Didn’t know I’d only get you in a trio.”

“They asked where you were I told them,” a laughter escape her lips and you shake your head chuckling, pecking her lips. Beth and Katie made vomiting sounds in union.

"Not a big deal, just some adjustments on my contract, my vision for the future.”

"Your big dreams,” Viv remarks, bringing her arms around your waist and pulling you closer, kissing your neck.

It was difficult to get into the building of Arsenal without any of her teammates noticing. You had everything planned. Todays the day Viv has her first training on the field, another big step in her recovery. Changing into your kit, you rub your palms on your shorts, taking a shaky breath. You step out of the room. As you arrive at the pitch, the team is standing in a big circle, chatting about their last days, laughing and enjoying. Your girlfriend soon sets her feet on the grass as well, all cheering her up as she begins to run her tracks. Taking further steps to the group, Katie is the first to catch you, and she runs off to you. “Y/N!” throwing her arms around you and jumping against you. You caught the Irish woman and your stability before falling over.

"Wouldn’t believe you’d be this excited to see me,” you laugh against her shoulder.

A hand rests on your shoulder and Katie gets down on the ground again. “What are you doing here?” she observes you from head to toe. “In Arsenal clothes that aren’t mine?”

"Surprise,” you open your arms, shaking your hands. “If you don’t wanna, I can leave.”

"No, it is indeed a surprise but wonderful,” she lays her arms around your neck and pulls you closer.

"We probably should get going.”

"I understand,” she huffs.

"We’ll cuddle after training gorgeous,” you wink at her before leaving for your first session.

It’s the 22th of October you made it in the staring line on the right wing, it was an intense game with two scored bangers from Katie McCabe. You made important sprints and crosses helped the defense and had a few chances yourself, but they were blocked in any way.

You groaned on your latest chance in the additional minute, but the resentment was out of your body as you’ve made your way back in your half and saw Viv stand at the sideline. In the short sequence, you could lay an eye on her she struggled with tears, her lips pressed together, one dimple showing. She was subbed in, and on the next attack, she was involved. Getting a cross from you, the goalkeeper stopped her shoot. You made my way over to her, and you two high fived. “Good idea, keeper sucks.”

"The cross was amazing, do another.” You hold her your thumb up and jog back into position.

The final whistle blows, and you run towards Vivianne, jumping on her back and sling your arms around her neck. Your head rests on hers. She piggybacks you around the pitch as she hugs the other plays. Then she lets you down, “now give me a proper celebration.” You take her face in your hands and pull her closer, connecting your lips. She drapes her hands on your waist, and after you pull apart, you embrace her as tight as you possible could.

“I’m so proud of you.” Your girlfriend doesn’t move an inch. Her mouth fell apart, and her eyes wide open. “You're not happy you're back?” You snip your fingers in front of her face. “Vivianne? Are you okay?” A hand on each side of her upper arms, you slightly shake her. “Youre scaring me.”

"You just kissed me.

"I mean you're my girlfriend.

"But.. but were still in the stadium,” she stutters, and your eyes widen as well.

"Shit.. shit.. I'm sorry if you didn’t .. that wasn’t what we wanted,” you clap your hands over your mouth.

"It's all right, liefje. It's fine.” She kisses you again.

[maliciousblog]

Coffee (Jaehyun)

It was another day the same routine. You would clock off work and head to your local cafe that you frequented.

Generally you would order a drink and something to go along with it while you read or caught up on your work until you could take the subway back home.

You entered as the bell chimed alerting the barista of your presence.

He bobbed his head above the counter hoping to catch your eye.

He was the only staff there during the night shift because the cafe was generally quiet empty apart from a few students or office workers waiting for the next train.

He preferred it that was because then he could spend time with you, ask you about your day, tell you about his.

He absolutely adored you.

You made his shift seem a little more enjoyable.

Since you were a regular he had your order memorized and bought it to your table without you even having to go up to the counter to order.

As you rummaged your bag to pull out the book you were reading you heard him place the tray that had your drink and a little sweet treat he always added along with it.

Each day it was something different.

You had to hand it to him he was an exemplary pastry chief and everything you had until now surely didn't disappoint.

You face lit up as you asked him what was the special today.

"Peach pie with a side of vanilla ice cream".

He nudged the plate towards you urging you to have a taste and tell him what you thought of it.

You picked up a fork and cut into the pie the buttery crust gently snapping under the fork, adding a smol dollop of ice cream on top you placed the bite in you mouth.

It practically melted as soon as the pie touched you tounge it was sweet and creamy. But the sweetness didn't overwhelm your tastebuds.

It was just the right amount all the flavors complimented each each other it was absolutely delectable.

He smiled showing his deep dimples and couldn't help but blush a little as you complemented his cooking.

Come to think of it he himself looked like a happy peach at the moment.

You talked for a while until another customer came in and he left frowning as he made him a cup of coffee.

You enjoy your food as you read while the time slowly began to tick away.

Until it was time for you to leave.

Jaehyun was busy serving customers so you didn't want to bother him and placed a couple of bill on the table as you walked out.

His shift was ending and he began cleaning the tables waiting still thinking about you.

You brought him so much happiness.

He stood there smiling like a fool thinking about you. Thinking about how cute you looked while you concentrated reading your book or how you smiled when he placed your food on the table.

Every night he would wait for you. Everyday he would think that it would be the day he would confess to you. But when the moment came his nerves got the best of him and he would hold himself back.

But today was the day he brought a bouquet of your favorite flowers and baked your favorite cake. He was so excited today was the day he would finally confess.

Each time the bell rang he felt his heart skip a beat.

He watched you enter he could feel his heart beating it felt like it would leap out of his chest at any moment.

He watched you enter followed by a man.

He watched as you and the man approached the counter.

He greeted you like he usually does.

And took your order he asked you who the man along side you was and before you could answer.

He stepped in and told him that he was your boyfriend.

Jaehyun felt his heart drop.

As he clutched onto the counter faking a smile and taking his order.

You noticed the flowers on the counter and asked him who the lucky girl was. To which he replied that someone had just left it behind as he went up to the bouquet and threw it in the trash.

You were a little taken aback by his sudden hostility but you thought maybe he was just tired given that it was pretty late.

So you just nodded and went to take a seat along with your boyfriend.

Jaehyun watched as you were giggling at some stupid joke your boyfriend said.

He felt like straggling the man right in the middle of the cafe.

While making his coffee he contemplated adding rat poison to it but he figured there were better ways to accomplish what he wanted to do.

So he placed your drinks on your table and left swiftly.

But you couldn't quiet shake of the feeling of being watched as you say there. Oblivious of what was to come.

[zelcii]

fight the world | chuck

"i don't deserve thissss," the little boy whispered, wrinkling his nose as he poked at the broccoli on his plate.

“eric, honey, don’t play with your food,” his mother chided softly, her warm smile dimpling her cheeks as she leaned over him, brushing his unruly curls out of his eyes.

eric huffed, pushing his fork against the vegetable once more as if he could make it disappear with sheer willpower. “but why does it have to be broccoliiiii?”

his mom chuckled, her laughter like a soft melody. “because broccoli helps you grow big and strong. and you’ll need it—someday, you’ll be off changing the world.”

she always told him things like that, speaking with a certainty he didn’t fully understand. but her voice made him feel safe, like he’d be okay no matter where he went or what happened. she ruffled his hair and placed a soft kiss on his forehead. “just trust me, alright? one day, the world'll try to change you, and we need you big and stong so you can fight it.”

“fight the world?” he mumbled sarcastically, still squirming in his chair. but he grinned back at her, his little world as secure as it had ever been.

"fight the world," his mother said with an unmatched certainty.

but as the days passed, the boy began to notice small changes—mom’s worried glances, the long, quiet conversations she'd have with people he’d never seen before. one day, they told him it was time to go, that he had a special purpose, a place he belonged. confused, but filled with a strange excitement, he went along with them, holding onto his mother’s words, hoping she was right.

the fluorescent lights of the wicked centre cast a harsh glow over everything, leaving no corner untouched by the sterile, cold light. thomas sat against the wall of the beetle bug room, having just come out of it. his hands were trembling, gaze vacant, fixed on something only he could see. his face was drawn, shadows under his eyes so deep it looked like he hadn’t slept in days.

“tommy?”

thomas glanced at him, just briefly, his face a mask of something chuck couldn’t decipher. it was the kind of look that only came from seeing things no one should have to see, especially alone. thomas’s face was pale, his jaw clenched tight, and he looked a little bit like he was holding himself together with sheer force of will.

chuck hesitated, nervous but feeling a stubborn urge to be there for him, even if he didn’t understand why. “did… did something happen?” he asked, his voice small. he tried to keep it light, to keep his tone from betraying the growing fear inside him. nothing good ever comes from that room.

thomas’s gaze softened a little as he looked at chuck, his expression flickering, almost like he was seeing chuck from far away. he didn’t respond at first, his eyes dropping to the floor, his fists clenching and unclenching. “chuck, it’s… it’s nothing,” he mumbled finally, his voice heavy with a weight chuck couldn’t quite understand. “you don’t need to worry about it.”

but chuck’s frown deepened. he shuffled closer, glancing up at him with a determination beyond his years. “i can tell it’s not nothing, thomas,” he insisted, a shaky confidence in his voice. “whatever it is, you don’t gotta carry it by yourself. you know that, right?”

for a moment, thomas almost laughed—a quiet, humourless sound. chuck’s simple words, the raw sincerity in his voice, cut through his resolve in a way that was almost painful. it was like looking at something pure, something untainted by all the horrors he’d seen. and part of him wanted to keep it that way, to shield chuck from the ugliness of the world.

he took a shaky breath, finally meeting chuck’s eyes, forcing a small, strained smile. “thanks, chuck. really,” he said softly. “i mean it.”

chuck nodded, his face full of that relentless trust, and he gave thomas a tentative, lopsided grin. “hey… you’ll be okay, dude.”

thomas managed a nod, the words bringing him a measure of comfort, if only for chuck’s sake. and as they sat together, he felt some of the weight lift—not entirely, but enough to let him breathe again, just a little.

chuck’s mind was a blur, half-processing the chaos around him. the wicked center felt too bright, too sharp, like everything was more real than it had any right to be. he couldn’t stop staring at gally. he looked different somehow, like he was… trapped. his hands shook, his face pale, and his eyes—they were red-rimmed, hollow, like he was fighting some unseen force. chuck felt his heart twist in confusion and dread.

gally’s hand reached behind him, drawing something from his pocket. a glint caught chuck’s eye—the flash of a silver blade, deadly and sharp, gleaming in the harsh light. before chuck could make sense of what was happening, gally’s arm moved back, then shot forward in one swift, fluid motion, hurling the knife across the room. it happened so fast, but somehow, in that frozen second, chuck saw everything.

he saw the knife spinning toward thomas, and without a second thought, he threw himself in front of his friend. time slowed, but his fear didn’t; it pounded through him, raw and fierce, and then, with a sickening thud, the blade found its target.

pain blossomed through his chest, ripping the breath from him. his body dropped to the ground, a strange numbness creeping over him, even as warmth began to pool beneath him. he tried to breathe, but each gasp was wet, choked, and he tasted something metallic and sharp. blood.

thomas was there, pulling him close, his face twisted in horror, and chuck could feel his friend’s hands shaking as they tried to stop the bleeding. thomas’s voice was muffled, as though it was coming from far away, and chuck struggled to focus, to hold onto something. but the pain was getting stronger, pulling him under.

“thom... mas,” he managed to whisper, each word a struggle, as darkness began to seep into the edges of his vision.

he felt a familiar ache that had nothing to do with the knife, a yearning for something he’d never had. “find… my mom,” he choked out, barely able to form the words. he wanted her to know he’d done something good, that he’d protected someone, even if it meant he didn’t make it. “tell her…” maybe, maybe if she knew—that he fought.

and then, with a deep, aching certainty, the thought came to him.

i don’t deserve this…

@ssseashell

tags: @just-a-girl-who-loves-tmr

[ryejifics]

hii first, hi how are you? love your work 🥰

second, may i please request ryujin fluff? she’s been bias wrecking me hard lately 🧎🏻‍♀️maybe something where y/n surprises ryujin overseas during tour when she’s extra homes sick and missing her gf and cuddles?

Too many days without you

Type: fluff

ryujin x reader

Hello! I'm good, thank you for supporting me :)

Day 53 without Ryujin and 33 stops later. It's driving me crazy. I should be cuddling my girlfriend right now but instead she's stuck on tour. The FaceTimes aren't enough, I need to hug her. I need to be in her arms. I miss her whisker dimples and smile. I miss the way she smells. I miss the way she always made the most delicious food. Even our animal (of your choice) misses her. She doesn't come home for another 40 days and I'm not sure if I can do it.

*texts with Yuna*

You: Yuna I can't do this, I miss Ryujin.

Yuna: Don't worry, she misses you too. She hasn't stopped talking about you all day. I think our next show is close to your state. I can get you in for free to suprise Ryujin if you want. I think she really needs you. She's even said she wants to quit the tour to go home to you.

You: I'd love to come to your next show. Help me get a ticket and I'll be there asap. Don't tell anyone though Yuna or you're dead meat.

Yuna: okay okay! Just come to your girl before she makes me sick with the lovey dovey stuff.

You: on it!

You booked a flight, and Yuna sent you a ticket. This is about to be your big break. You missed Ryujin with everything in you. You spent the night packing your bags, and you'd fly out tomorrow. Ryujin here I come.

*the next day*

You grabbed your bags and left the house. Almost speeding to the airport, you sang along to all your favorite songs you listened to together. You even made up your own song about how you're going to see her. You park, grab your bags, and basically run inside the airport. You couldn't wait to be in her arms again. Once you get through security and everything, you wait for your plane to board. You go to the little gift shop and buy her a monkey plushie as it reminds you of her. Later, you get onto the plane and off you go to see your girlfriend.

Time passed, and it was time to get off. You left and grabbed your bags from baggage claim. You ordered an Uber and texted Yuna that you were on the way. It felt like time was ticking so slow. All you wanted was to see Ryujin. Once you got out of the Uber, you went next door to buy Ryujin flowers. Picking out the prettiest ones, you paid and left to the venue. Yuna told you to knock on the back door, and she would let you in, so you did. Once you were in Yuna hugged you tightly. "I missed you!" She whispered and led you to where the others were. Ryujin was on stage practicing her solo so it was just you and the other 4. They all hugged you asking what you were doing there. "Ryujin is gonna freak out y/n!" Yeji exclaimed as she looked at the gifts you brought. "Dont make us feel single now." Lia whined and pouted. "Oh shh you guys let her be the romantic she is when it comes to Ryu." Chaeryeong smiled and pushed you into a hiding spot when Ryujin came off stage. "Ryujinnie! You did amazing!" Yuna smiled and tried not to giggle as you jumped excitedly. "Yeah, you did amazing, my love." Ryujin looked confused as she turned around and noticed you were standing right there. She couldn't believe her eyes. Were you real, or was she dreaming? "B-baby? Is that really you?" She said, tearing up as she ran to hug you. "You're real, right? I'm not just dreaming? When did you get here? No, how did you get here?? Alright, who knew about this?!" She asked so many questions, and you answered them all. You pulled her into a kiss and held onto her tight. "I missed you, so.. I came. Yuna got me a ticket, and I flew here." Ryujin couldn't believe it, but she held onto you tighter than ever. "I'm gonna kill it tonight, all because I have you." She smiled, and for the rest of the night, she continued as she knew you were home. You were her home. She was your home. When you got back to the hotel, the night was filled with cuddles and sweet kisses as she treasured every moment with you. "I'm never letting you go."Whatever you say, dork." You were finally happy, she was happy. You were home.

[elisysd]

First times

Cruel Summer Masterlist

Julia first appearance at a race

Ain't it funny how the simplest things in life can make a man? Little moments that pass us by

Monaco is and always will be holding a special place in Charles’ heart. Even more so now that he was a dad and wanted to make his little girl proud. Julia was not even one yet, but he was determined to make her proud. So having his wife and his baby in the paddock for the weekend with him, put a lot of pressure on him. He wanted to be perfect. The morning of the first session of free practice, he woke up at dawn and walked out of Lyanna and him shared bedroom in their recently bought house. As much as he loved his flat and no matter how many memories it was holding, it had been time for them to create new ones as a family. Also, Charles wanted to offer Julia and Lyanna a peaceful life, away from the hustle bustle of the city. Slowly, taking care of not making too much noise as it was still early, he walked in the nursery where Julia was sound asleep. Her room was in beige and neutral tones with some touches of yellow and green here and there.

Despite Lyanna’s wants to keep her room tidy; Charles couldn’t stop himself to buy anything to his daughter that he found cute, funny, or thought it would come handy later. Plushies that he found all around the world when he was travelling were laying on the floor, for lack of space to put them on the shelves where books were pilling up. Toys that Julia was too young to use were stored in big boxes and on the wall, next to cute animals’ stickers that Lyanna had glued to the wall where Julia’s crib was, there were tons of pictures Charles had taken from the tracks and of him. One if his biggest fears was that his daughter would forget about him when he was away. Something Lyanna tried to reassure would never happen. Finally, near the big window that offered a beautiful and open view on the garden, was a rocking-chair where Charles loved to sit in with Julia as he was telling her all about his race weekends when he came back home, or where he loved watching Lyanna taking care of their daughter.

As he was approaching the crib to watch his daughter, he could hear her babbling. He leaned over the baby's crib and two green eyes met his own. He knew that people were often saying that Julia was the spitting image of him. The same brown hair, the same blue-greened eyes and he could swear that she had also inherited of his dimples. His mother liked to joke around saying that Julia would make heads turn when she would get older just to spite him. And he was ashamed to admit it but it worked.

“Already up, sweetheart?”

Seeing her father, the baby smiled at him as she held out her arms, silently asking Charles to take her out of the crib.

“You and I are not going to make any noise, okay? Mummy is still sleeping and we don’t want to wake her. You know how grumpy she gets when she doesn’t have her full sleep. And an angry mummy it’s not something we want to experience.

Julia carefully secured on his hip, he walked down the stairs to prepare the breakfast. He settled his daughter in her highchair and set about getting out everything he needed for himself and Julia. As he was cutting a banana, his gaze was drawn to his daughter, who was staring intently out of the window at something. Curious, he went over to the bay window and opened it to let some fresh air into the house, where he saw the focus of his daughter's attention.  

“Did you see the squirrel, angel? Did you see how fast he ran in the trees? Well that’s how fast daddy is hoping to be this weekend.”

As he was finishing to prepare the food, leaving some for Lyanna, the father and his daughter heard some noises coming from upstairs, a sign his wife was up. And right on time as he was supposed to leave for the track in a few minutes. Lyanna and Julia were coming to see him around lunch time and would spend the afternoon in the hospitality where everything had been made to accommodate Julia.

“Well, good morning my loves!”

Lyanna was already dressed in a red shirt with the number 16 on the back. Her hair were tied in a ponytail that were escaping from a Ferrari cap. She went to her daughter kissing her forehead as she was wiping away with a napkin traces of apple purée from her chin. She then went to Charles that was putting away dishes in the sink and curled up to his side.

“Good morning beautiful. I see you are all ready.”

“I have to show off who I’m there to support!”

Charles chuckled. Soon he excused himself and left for the track. Lyanna spent the morning doing a bit of house chores, keeping an eye on the little girl and then it was time for them to leave to join Charles in the paddock.

Everyone knew about Julia. It was hard to not to as Charles kept on showing pictures of his daughter to anyone wo was crossing his path. So as soon as Lyanna arrived, everybody was quick to make way for her and to give her space. Of course, there were some journalists and photographers that stopped her to ask her if they could take a picture of them but didn’t insist when Lyanna told them no. She wanted to keep the small amount of privacy her family had managed to keep.

In the Ferrari hospitality, Julia was everyone favorite. And it was not long before Lyanna found herself surrounded by gifts from plushies with Ferrari logo on them to baby and kids merchandising. As if she didn’t have already enough of those at home. Lyanna didn’t count anymore how many red clothes Julia had, thanks to Charles.

The Friday was calm but the Saturday a lot less since Charles had managed to snatch the pole position. It was an exhilarating husband that came out of his car and rushed to his family as soon as he could after the qualifying session. Julia couldn’t understand yet what her dad was doing on his weekends but Lyanna soon noticed how captivated the baby seemed to be by the red suit. She jiggled in Lyanna's arms, seeing her father from a distance and realising that Lyanna was not going to let her go, she began to cry, alerting her father a few metres away who hurried over to her.

“Julia, baby what’s wrong?” asked Charles as he held out his arms to take Julia from Lyanna. As soon as se was with her dad, her cries stop making Lyanna rolled her eyes.

“Well, this little drama queen just wanted her daddy’s full and undivided attention, apparently.”

Julia was playing with the Velcro on Charles’ racing suit completely oblivious to what’s happening around her. Her little fingers found the Ferrari emblem and tried, unsuccessfully, to get a hold of it.

“Well, our Julia is a Ferrari girl.” Said proudly Charles.

“As if she could be anything else with you as her dad.”

On their way back, they crossed path with Kat, Max and their baby boy, Ethan who had just turned one a few months ago. As Charles and Max were exchanging a bit about the qualifying and how the race was going to be like tomorrow, Lyanna and Kat started to talk about their kids.

“Is it Julia’s first time here?”

“Yes! Charles was a bit stressed out about it; we didn’t really know how she would behave but she has been an angel all day long. I’m hoping it will be the same tomorrow. And how is Ethan?”

The little boy refused to make eye contact with Lyanna, preferring hiding his face in her mom’s neck.

“You know what would be nice? To organize a play date! Julia and Ethan are not very far in terms of age, how nice would it be of them to grow up together and have a friend.”

“That’s an amazing idea! I will definitely take you up on that offer.”

“What do you think, Ethan? Say hi to Julia, sweetheart.”

The little boy glanced at the girl and made a weird face, halfway through the smile and the wince. Julia caught it and started to cry, refusing to look at the boy.

“Ethan! Be nice!”

“Oh Julia no, it’s okay sweetie he didn’t want to scare you.”

“What’s happening?” asked Charles hearing Julia’s cries for the second time that day.

“We were trying to make our kids get to know each other but it didn’t go as we expected.” Explained Lyanna.

“I think they are both tired, maybe it was just not the right time.” Said Max.

They all agreed that it was better for them to go home and rest. The next day, the paddock was buzzing with activities. Charles was attracting a huge crowd and was at the same time trying to shield Julia and Lyanna from fans that were screaming their names. Finally, they all breathed a bit better as they entered the garage where Charles greeted the mechanics before leading his wife and daughter to his driver’s room so he could change. When he finally was ready he took Julia out Lyanna’s arms and went back to the garage. As he was talking with Fred who couldn’t help to scrunch his face in order to make Julia laugh, the little girl was deeply invested in the headset around the neck of team principal. As she was trying to reach for it, Fred took it our and put it on her little head. It was way too big for her but she didn’t seem to care.

“Well, it looks like we are going to have a new strategist on the team. What do you think Julia?” asked Fred, tickling the little girl.

Her focus was then set on the big car and she started to wiggle in her dad’s arm. When Charles looked at what she was pointing at he smiled gently.

“Yes princess, it’s daddy’s car. Have you seen how big it is? It’s the fastest one. And it’s fast so daddy can come back to you before you notice that he left.”

Still with her in his arms, he went to the Ferrari so Julia could see it better. All the mechanics were still working on the last details before the race.

“Do you want to go in the car with daddy?”

Julia laughed and smiled, something Charles interpreted as a yes. He asked quickly to the engineers if it was okay and as they answered positively, Charles gave for a moment Julia to Lyanna who came near him to take a few pictures. As Charles was sitting in the car, Lyanna gave him back Julia who was eager to stay with her dad. She snapped a few pictures and sent them on the family group chat they shared with Charles’ and her family.

Soon enough it was time to leave Charles on his own so he could focus. Watching her dad walking away from her made Julia cried and screamed, breaking Charles heart and making him feel guilty. Lyanna reassured him, telling him they would be okay and that as soon as Julia would see him on the screens she would calm down.

“Well… be fast. Come back to us in one piece. We love you.” Said Lyanna as she was helping him to remove his bracelets, a tradition that came up naturally when she attended the races.

“I love you too. Both of you.”

Lyanna was pretty confident about the race. Charles started on pole, on a track he knew by heart and where it was hard to overtake. But still, a part of her would always fear for him, no matter what. As for Julia, even if she didn’t really grasp what her dad was doing, she quickly understood that the red car ahead of everyone was her dad and whenever she was seeing him she would clap into her little hands and make screams of excitement, something Lyanna found endearing and didn’t hesitate to capture on videos.

Finally Charles won the Monaco Grand Prix, for the second time in his career. Lyanna was so proud of him and she couldn’t help but let a few tears escape behind her eyelids. The first ting he did when he stepped out of the car was to run to Lyanna and Julia whom he took and spun her around making her laugh. The photographs that were there didn’t hesitate to take a few pictures. He then took Lyanna’s hand to pull her against him and deeply kissed her. She didn’t know if it was her tears of Charles’ but the kiss had a salty taste.

“My two princesses. My two lucky charms. This win is for you both.” Whispered Charles against her lips.

Yes, Monaco would forever hold a special place in Charles’ heart.

================

taglist: @zendayabelova @purplephantomwolf @ru-kru @dakotali @blueflorals @aundercover @ruleroftheuniverse @fangirlika @writerscurse @elijahmikaelsonbitch @leclerc13 @karmabyfernando @stargaryenx @pitlanebabe @boiohboii @reengard @shikshinkwon

[believingispowerfulmagic]

Fic Advent Calendar - Day 7: Shopping

If Dante were writing "Inferno" today, one of his circles of hell would be the mall at Christmastime.

Maybe there wouldn't be any other circles.

This would just be hell.

Regina sighed as she collapsed into a chair in the food court, her bags placed around her like a little fort. She had been jostled, bumped and pushed in almost every store she had gone into that day. Peace, joy and love didn't extend to the mall, it seemed. Everyone had lost their minds, clearly worried about the stores running out of everything at the same time.

She highly doubted that the department stores would run out of sweaters in the blink of an eye.

But she managed to get gifts for most of the people on her list. She just needed to get something for Emma and then she would be done.

There was just one problem - what did you get your son's biological mother with whom you now reluctantly (and unofficially) shared custody of him?

Especially when you lowkey hated her?

Maybe she was overthinking this and she should just get Emma a gift card. That would solve all her problems.

Well, not all of them.

At least the Christmas one.

She sighed as a dull ache began to form behind her eyes. Regina rubbed her temples, knowing her body was telling her it was time to get out of the mall. She could get a gift card for Emma anywhere. For now, she needed to go home and rest.

Regina stood again, trying to gather all her bags. Certain she had them, she started to walk away from the table. Thankfully she had parked by the food court and so she knew it wouldn't take that long to get to her car.

"Ma'am!"

She didn't know who that person was calling out for but she hoped he would do so more quietly. It was not helping her headache.

"Wait!" the man called out. "Please, stop!"

Why did it sound like he was following her?

A strong hand gripped her arm, tugging on her. This time, the man's voice came from right behind her. "Please!"

Gasping, she turned around and tried to hit the person with her bags. "Let go of me!"

"Sorry!" He released her arm and took a step back before holding out a bag. "You forgot this at the table. I didn't want you to leave without it."

"Oh," she said, counting her bags and realizing she was missing one. She grimaced as she took the bag from him. "Sorry."

He held up his hands, grinning. "I get it. Crowded mall, some stranger grabbing you. I probably would've tried to defend myself too."

She sighed. "Still, you were doing something nice. You could've just left my bag there."

"True," he said. "But I'm sure you would rather have these presents for your family. And the police would rather not have to evacuate the mall to make sure there wasn't a bomb inside the bag."

"That's also true," she replied. "You're a hero."

He chuckled. "I wouldn't go that far."

She sighed, still feeling like she needed to do more than just thank him. "Can I get you some coffee or something? To thank you."

"That won't be necessary," he told her. "I'm just happy to help."

"Please," she said. "It's the least I can do."

His smile softened. "Alright. By the way, I'm Robin."

"Regina," she replied, shaking his hand. "Nice to meet you."

"Likewise," he said, releasing her hand and placing his hands in his jean pockets. "So, where would you like to go for that coffee?"

She took a deep breath, feeling the adrenaline dissipate and like she was finally able to see him for the first time. He was a little taller than her with blonde hair flecked with gray. It matched the hair covering his cheeks and mouth, which somehow looked neater than she believed it had the right to. He was still smiling, revealing two dimples that already made her stomach do a flip.

But his eyes really drew her in.

They were a beautiful blue filled with warmth and a sparkle that made something flutter deep inside her. It had been a long time since she wanted to get lost in someone's eyes. Now, she wouldn't mind if she got lost in his.

Which was both dangerous and exciting.

"There's a small cafe down the next wing," she said, finding she didn't mind going back into the chaos of the mall. "It's usually empty despite having the best coffee."

"I think I know which one you mean," he replied, nodding. "It's my favorite."

That surprised her. She didn't think anyone else knew that cafe but her. "You have good taste, then," she said.

He chuckled. "So do you."

"Thank you," she said. She bit her lip before asking: "Do you need to go back and get anything? Or tell someone that we're going to get coffee?"

"Nope," he said. "I really just got here and was getting something to eat to power through shopping. And I'm here alone."

She smiled, her heart skipping a beat when she heard he was here alone that she wasn't sure she was ready to unpack. But she nodded. "Then follow me."

He grinned, leaning closer to her. "Can I take some of your bags? Just to help you out - I promise I'm not trying to steal anything."

"Alright," she said, handing him a couple bags. "But I'm going to keep my eye on you, thief."

"I'll keep that in mind, milady," he replied as they walked back toward the main part of the mall. He carried two of her bags, one in each hand, and kept pace with her. She knew, though, that he wasn't going to run off with them. After all, why chase her down to return bag and then steal two?

He seemed too honorable for that.

She snuck another look at him and decided that maybe the mall at Christmas wasn't so bad after all.

[arcade-writing]

-leans in here totally casual-

Would you.. perhaps, tell me about your Mysterio?

Name: Quintin Beck

Birthname: Vyacheslav Beck

Nickname: misty, magician, Quinn, Slava, Solomon

Other names: the great Mysterio

Age: 26

Body type: twunk

Height: 5'10 (6 ft in heels)

Sexuality: aromantic, pansexual

Religion: Jewish

He moved from Ukraine with his family when he was 11 to New York

+ his tattoos (both arms are the same) normal vs In the dark

Lore/ story facts:

Man of many talents! Has an engineering degree, a degree in fashion and costume making, did courses to be a magician and a degree in film and creative media

Went from making and designing backstage props at his local theatre to becoming the Tech guy and then, starting a small film business by himself. It didn't go very far but with his skills he was asked to work on other movies. He agreed, able to make a living for himself

Even had a short apprenticeship at Oscorp for engineering, meeting Mason and then joining together as a Duo. Mason Caring for him like a father. And still supporting him as a Villian.

That was until, Scout arrived. (My spidersona) Scout was asked to star in a short film about himself but discovered that there were cameras everywhere - hidden. Even in private spaces. All to figure out his identity and share it with the public. Once that came out he made it known to the public and they got sued. After all, a risk to his identity could be life threatening. Causing Quintin to be out of service despite being a bystander and due to the bad rep, struggled to get back into work due to it. After all, no one wanted ties with a problematic company.

Whilst he didn't harbour any Ill will on Scout it was already hard getting through the industry as it was. So, he decided to keep uplifting his own film business - but if he was to make it about the hero. He needed a villian.

He decided to take on the role of Mysterio and amaze all of New York as the newest Villian for Spider-Scout to face. Documenting it all. People loved it! To get so close to the life of a hero and a new enemy - it was exciting! As time went on he became inspired by Scout. He noticed there was a kinship in their interests. It become more civil between them. He's now basically a blogger - crafting shows of illusion and magic for the public.

(+ the lil colab we did together coz it looks so good✨)

Traits and small facts:

His favourite food? shakshuka. Always feels warm and well fed afterwards

His smile is always crooked but wide, he has 1 dimple on the right side of his face. He definitely emotes better with his hands than his face.

When he's Mysterio is like he's a completely different person. Confident and bold. Grand in everything he does. Speaking louder than New York itself. He feels so comfortable behind a mask.

Also as Mysterio, as he streams alot of his fights, he acts like a show host. A floating microphone with him to capture every word.

He cries so loudly. Hiccuping and sniffling. Lips wobbling as long streaks of tears down his face. Is easily moved to tears at a good film or a piece of music that really touches his heart

He's actually pretty good at lying, just doesn't like to. He likes being an honest genuine person unless it's necessary.

He expresses his joy very visually, a small squeal will escape him before he immediately starts to conceal it. Definitely a laugher - always letting out one in some way or another. Big smiles and jazz hands.

he's not one to get angry. He doesn't enjoy it nor strive to feel it. He's very good at keeping himself in check but when it does? He's so quite. For such a loud animated guy, he can become so stiff and quite. Firm in his words and forcing back a snarl. It's uncanny.

being nervous is almost his constant. He's shy. He's built like an extrovert but as the personality of a shaky dog. Abit anxious when it comes to social interaction because he fears he'll be too much too soon.

Despite his inability to feel romantic attraction, he is a hopeless romantic. He LOVES love. He thinks it's beautiful. He had to learn to stop mourning his lack of it and realize he can love in many ways. But that doesn't mean if someone asked for a fake date - he wouldn't make sure he's best fake date ever. Flowers? Fancy restaurant? You name it! It's a performance he won't fail at!

He does smoke, non nicotine tho, he smokes through a long pipe for aesthetic. The plant it's infused with dyes the smoke and makes it turn from a light blue to purple.

He uses this plant for other purposes for his magic tricks - it is a non addicting herb that was discovered that simply as the trick of changing smoke colour.

Songs I feel that relate to him:

https://youtu.be/zgI56IFtQto

https://youtu.be/UH48socoj28

https://youtu.be/smkbWP79fus

https://youtu.be/dPlg9viUdQc

[brandyy0moss]

if the mp100 cast was in the life series who do you think would get their red life first and who do you think would win 👁️

Ohhhh!! I see someone has been around before I started posting MP100

Just counting the Main, honestly I think Serizawa would hit red first, you might be saying that he’s a gamer and also wildly strong but they aren’t playing minecraft- their IN minecraft.

So how is he a red life first? Well he’s pretty introverted, like Mob, he is probably always got a watching eye soaking everything in all the time and because of that I think he’d have a embarrassed amount of deaths to ender man, he’s like, oh hey there- WAIT WAIT WAIT and he’d crumble when it came to self defence against certain people. Also also, he’d definitely be the kind to become ally’s with everyone and then get betrayed.

I think while Serizawa would hit red first, Dimple would be out first which is embarrassing as he’s pretty damn strong. I think he’d just go in head first with minimal planning and gear, he wouldn’t prioritise ally ship and so when you rock up with a team and armour and food and he’s ready to throw hands with the bare minimum forethought. He’d lose. I simply cannot see him putting time and effort into building a base or farming for food or materials or anything. That or he’d fall off something and die, you know he’s not putting the time into making and enchanting feather falling boots. He’s got the will but when everyone else is building their defences, pure strength will only take you to a certain point in the game.

Who would win? I feel like the most basic choice would be Reigen simply because when that man doubles down he doubles down. He’s spending days mining for gear, he’s got a plan from day one, he can talk himself out of or run away from fights- he has a infuriating amount of ender pearls. The trades are immediate and now he has ally’s even if they are some what strenuous because he wouldn’t nurture them other then when he needed something. We’ve seen another conman, Scar, who has the tendency to die all the time like Reigen might have done in minecraft absolutely rock the boat and so I think Reigen would some how swindle himself that win out of pure persistence. With the world full of really crazy strong people, you KNOW he’s decked out in magic and ender pearls, really he’s a active problem even if he’d lose if he fought head on, which he never does.



If Reigen didn’t win I think it would be Teru but only after he starts to drop his tough guy persona. He’d make ally’s, he’d share resources, he’d have a plan and when it came down to it he’d know everyone’s weaknesses and have the equipment and skill to back up his kills. And if you came for him he’d have plenty ally’s to back him up, really, unlike Reigen who, you understand your ally ship ends when he no longer needs something from you, you want Teru on your side and he’ll be loyal right up until the end, If you gain his favour enough to not be picked off before that.

Little notes and ideas !!

I think Mob would have a real real hard time with this game. He’s got power under his arm but when it comes down to it he’d simply not want to hurt someone who was simply trying to survive and while he is kind, making ally’s and coming across as trust worthy is really hard when your sweating and noticeably uncomfortable in every interaction. I think he’d house far away and have a very impressive farm, he’d maybe be a pacifist and even try and step in and tear people apart like they could survive the game if they just got along. Maybe in another world Reigen would train him to come off as scary and then keep him safely away from murderous players, get him right up to the win and then take himself out because a kid like that Is much more deserving of surviving then him.

I think Ritsu would also die pretty early. Don’t get me wrong, he’d definitely try and his traps would destroy your home and supplies and he is a force to be reckoned with but he’d ally with Shou and only Shou, and when Shou dies, he’d be missing a big part of the team and wouldn’t survive for long after. I do think Shou would go before him, he’s too reckless and would probably go from a world related death. Maybe Ritsu gives his last life to keeping Mob in the game when he refuses to fight.

I know Yoshioka isn’t really a character but I’m gonna say if he was and Reigen got him on his side, EVERYONES fucked. He’s scary dog privileges with the means to back it up would make Reigen unstoppable, and Yoshioka would need Reigen too because while he’s got the bark and the bite he doesn’t have the absolute audacity that Reigen does. Now if it was between Reigen and Yoshioka I think they’d fight ‘fair and square’ (cactus ring flashbacks) and Reigen would get his ass handed to him. Or Yoshioka might just let him win because he’s in gratitude for all the time and effort Reigen put into filling the space of his short comings and in the end, he values the relationship and company more and wouldn’t see a point in continuing without his ally. And in all honesty, Reigen worked really hard for that win and would continue to carry himself after while Yoshioka would stand little chance without him.

Thank you for the question!! That was so fun to think about, feel free to leave what you think in the comments !!

[writin-with-the-blues]

I’ve had this idea for awhile but- Don’t Starve Wes x reader where the reader got trapped in the constant looking for Wes, established relationship type stuf!

A/N: Anon dropping an amazing request and acting like they didn’t say anything important. Here you go Anon!

A Popped Balloon

Content: Wes x Fiancé!S/O (Romantic), 2K words, Wes is disabled, reader understands French and French Sign Language (LSF)

Were you crazy? Sure.

Were you insane? Maybe.

Hallucinating? Not something that happens.

Well regardless of what happened, here you are waking up to a field with no civilization. At first you were in full blown denial, just lying right there and looking to the sky. However, it was just how real everything felt that got you up and moving. The smell of the flowers, the sound of wind hitting your hair, and the way the berries, plucks of grass, sticks, and rocks felt in your hands. There was no denying the fact that this was happening and being the determined person you were, you to continue your investigation of your dear fiancé, Wes.

You met Wes in France seven years ago after moving there from America. You wanted to work as a performer however you didn’t find that much success in America so you moved to France. You tried to learn all the languages you’ll need before moving, one of them being LSF. You didn’t know ASL or completely knew French so learning LSF was difficult to say the least, but in hindsight it was probably one of your best decisions. You learned all of this mainly because you didn’t want to stand out all too much, well as much as you already did as a performer.

You bumped into Wes after a somewhat successful performance, enough to keep yourself housed and fed for a good while. You tried to talk to him in French, though he signed to you, “I doubt you understand LSF since you have an American accent but do you?”

Your immediate response, not even responding to the question he asked, “I have an American accent?”

Oh god the way his eyes shimmered like a kid on Christmas when you responded. He smiled so much his dimples showed as he responded, “Yeah, you sound breathy. It’s a bit hard to understand.”

“Breathy? What do you mean breathy?”

“Sounds like you’re.” He pauses his hand movements trying to find his words, “Breathing in between your sentences.”

You smiled at him as he smiled at you.

As you got to know him, the more you could say you fell for him. According to him, he has been mute since his birth so he decided to become a mime, he had gotten so good at being a mime it might as well be magic. The reason why is according to him, ‘C’est la vie’ or roughly meaning, ‘That’s just life; you got to work with it.’ The thing you always wondered is how he got his balloons to float without helium. However, every time you asked him how he did it, he’d sign to you, “A good performer never tells their secrets,” with a shit eating grin.

Even today, as you are collecting materials and finding ways to keep them on you, you still wonder about the logistics of that. Why you were thinking of that of all things instead of looking for shelter or food was probably a way to cope with the situation you are in. The sun went down as you picked the rock down little by little, you could hear the sound of bat screeches but you ignored it. Your hands hurt from the work on not only chopping down the trees but picking rocks. Your sticks were held together by you wrapping them with the grass which was surprisingly sturdy for grass. You went back to reminiscing about the past as you continued working.

You remembered the day you two became a couple like it was yesterday, it wasn’t particularly a beautiful day with storm clouds slowly rolling in. You both had a failed performance, what made it worse was the rain that came through which just completely ruined any chances of continuing, so you both sat on a bench under Wes’ umbrella. Wes’ makeup was ruined, his mascara and face paint washing away from the rain, it slowly dropped down in streaks to the bottom of his chin. It was attractive to you, however you knew that Wes didn’t agree with that sentiment based on the way he acted so you decided not to bring it up. He tried to communicate one letter at a time because his other hand had his umbrella, but you gently took the umbrella to allow him to fully converse with you. He signed, “Thank you.”

He started the conversation by signing, “Hopefully your performance was at least a bit better than what happened to me.”

“Well…” You looked to the sky, “the rain ruined it.”

“Yeah, me too. Well as you can obviously see.” He gestured to his face as he continued to sign, “My whole act was ruined, considering my makeup is melting off.”

He sighed, as the two of you remained in relative silence. You could see his cheeks blush a bit thanks to the rain wiping away the white face paint. It was a light dusting sure, but you can totally see it, so against better judgment you asked him, “Are you embarrassed?”

“What? No. No, absolutely not.” He signed quickly, so fast it was hard to pick up what he was saying, “What made you say that?”

“Well, I-“ you cleared your throat, “saw you were red in the face and just wanted to check in.”

It took a bit for him to respond, taking a deep breath he signed, “I love you.”

Your heart was going miles an hour as he continued, “For a while actually and,” He pauses his movements, “it’s just so amazing to be around you. I don’t really know if I am saying I love you too early but I don’t have the heart to care. So, do you love me like I love you?”

He was looking away from you before you gently moved his chin to look at you. A smile spread across his face as he kissed you on the lips and you reciprocated it. You were there for a while locked into each other’s lips as the sound of water tapping on Wes’ umbrella continued. Once you pulled away, you answered, “Of course. Of course I love you like you imagine Wes”

Another one of his shit eating grins spread across his face as he signed, “Good luck trying to clean off your face.”

You slowly wiped your lips only to find his stained lipstick on there, and all you could do was smile and teased, “You’re a piece of shit and I love you.”

As the relationship grew and grew, you always noticed how physically affectionate he was. Walking down the streets of France while holding his gloved hand, often hugging you tightly, and kisses dear god. You love the man so much and he loved you too, but the way his makeup stains your face was obvious and clear. Obviously he was super apologetic about it after you told him about the dilemma, trying to only kiss you when he had his makeup off.

Speaking of his makeup off, you got to see a lot more of that when he wasn’t on the street. Especially just lying next to you in your humble abode, cuddling with you over the soft sounds of the radio. Kissing along the back of your neck keeping you tightly in his arms. He always somehow lazily signed to you, “I love you.”

Your home essentially became his as he brought gifts to you after performing. Sometimes it was some pastries to share, sometimes it was nice daisies, sometimes he did a balloon trick. Essentially, a roll of the dice of what he’ll do when he gets home between sharing and enjoying something with you or just cuddling until he falls asleep. Though after a complete flop of a performance, being a shoulder to cry on was nice but you also cried on his shoulders when you needed to.

So of course, it was only a matter of time before he proposed. After almost four years of being with you, he cleaned his late mother’s ring, and came looking for you. You were performing on stage, as you were finishing up you heard footsteps from behind your makeshift stage. Seeing Wes was a comfort to you and then seeing him pull out a ring made you instantly hug him. Although that stunt caused you both to be injured in some way because you basically jumped on him, you accepted it with a giggle over the situation. You both knew that marrying each other now would cause major debt, so you decided to keep each other as just fiancés.

But then. It all was taken away from you.

Gone.

His life was taken away from you like a popped balloon.

The police showed up to your home and asked for your account for the disappearance of Wes. Your Fiancé. Obviously you were worried, desperate to find out what happened, but the verdict they settled on was infuriating. After he traveled into the alleyway, he was stabbed to death and brought someplace else, well at least that was the verdict the police settled on. Having his funeral only a week after the verdict to just move along. You obviously tried to argue with police after they had the verdict chosen.

“C’est la vie. You’ll find another love someday.”

You went to the county jail for violence against a police officer, specifically punching them directly in the jaw. It was worth every minute of community service you had to do. Why would anyone say that? Especially to someone who is grieving? It just solidifies the fact that something is wrong with what they described his supposed death. So after dealing with a lot of legal jargon, your next priority was figuring out what actually happened.

You went to talk to George T. Witherstone, a man that was also interviewed by police in the disappearance of your fiancé. However, George was a sleeze, who was connected to a much more famous performer who had disappeared named Maxwell. Maxwell and his assistant Charlie were both famous magicians that had kick started the careers of many famous performers such as yourself, but what George said clicked for you, “Well William Carter couldn’t pay his debts to me, frustrating I know.”

William Carter? That was his full name? The rest of what he was talking about was nothing but a blur as you fixated on that specifically.

Well there was no use in interrogating George when you began to run out of money to live in France. So, with all of the money you had left to your name, you went back to the United States to live with your family. You wanted to stay in France, but you had to go back, much to the disappointment of your family. However, hindsight is 20/20, so what was really a horrible thing turned out to be the very thing that brought you to where you were now.

You began searching through past magazines in your library about William Carter, continuing to connect the pieces together. Finding article upon article about Maxwell and Charlie’s disappearance, though you also found out about a strong man named Wolfgang saving William Carter’s life. You search through articles about him, he disappeared. In fact, the weirdest part about the whole thing is that the people with the weirdest disappearances always had a W at the beginning of their name.

Like Wes.

You snapped out of your own memories as you began to tinder a fire, being slow and calculating as you made sure that your makeshift torch would set aflame. You see the sun slowly setting until it turned night, the moon a crescent in the sky. You had to keep moving, you had to.

When you were searching through possible leads, the only one you could settle on was Wilson. Most of the rest didn’t have as much of their location or history out to the world. Especially Maxwell, whose house had been turned into a museum for himself. So, taking up a backpack, and using the knowledge you had, you went towards the shack that sat upon a hill which took you three hours to get there by car. You opened the door to find papers scattered across the floor, the sound of radio static, and a machine, massive in scale with a leaver. Against everything in your gut telling you otherwise, you flicked it.

Everything went to nothing, not black, just nothing. As if you were to close one eye, but for both eyes. Just nothing. Until there was something.

Which leads to now, where you continued to move forward until you saw dawn. As the morning began, you heard idle chatter through one person. Probably in his mid-thirties, most definitely tired and exhausted, just average overall. You decided to eavesdrop on the conversation, just letting the words come through.

“So Wes any objections to that plan of action?”

Silence.

“I am taking your silence as yes.”

Then the shuffling of two people’s feet. Almost as desperate as you were beginning your adventure you almost screamed out, “Wes?!”

You heard the sound of running as you got hugged by Wes. His arms felt just as great as you remembered them. You were surprised though, causing you to fall on your ass, but there was laughter involved in it all. Just like the day he proposed.

If you were asked to do it again to see those glittering eyes again, you’d take it in a heartbeat.

Cross-posted to AO3

Masterlist

[piercethewon]

🐈 Embedded Love.

Yang Jungwon

Birthday special!

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🐈 Pairing: Non idol! Jungwon x Fem! Reader.

🐈 Genre: Attempt at super soft fluff, established relationship.

🐈 Warnings: Swearing, food, stepping on legos(?) Not proofread!

🐈 Word count: 1,4k.

ㅤ

ㅤ

—Ouch! What the…—

—Don't look!— your first instinct upon hearing his voice was to kick your unfinished project under the bed and hide the box behind your back, pulling your best attempt at an innocent smile.

Luckily, your boyfriend was too occupied with the sharp pain in his sole to notice your strange behavior —What are you doing? It's so late…— he took a moment to examine the red lego piece he had stepped on, raising an eyebrow and making you gulp nervously.

—What are you doing here?— you inquired, trying to play cool but failing miserably. Your hands were still behind your back, gripping tightly onto the box; luckily, it was small enough not to show, but that did not mean you were safe, not until Jungwon walked out of your sight.

—I live here…— the red haired boy knew the panicked look on your face so well, he was a hundred percent sure you were hiding something, but it was no secret how he enjoyed teasing you; how could he not when you looked so cute trying to keep yourself calm and collected in front of him? —Dinner's ready, so I came here looking for you…— a small pout appeared on his lips, making your stomach melt —I can't believe you ditched me to play with legos while I was all alone fighting with the pasta—.

You were well aware that he was joking, but his pouty face almost made you believe him. Regardless, you had to fight back! —I'm sorry, Wonie… I'll wash the dishes this time, I promise!—

He sighed in the most dramatic way you had ever seen him do and leaned on the doorframe, gesturing outside —Fine, now come with me to the living room—.

He stared at you.

You stared at him.

Neither of you moved a single inch.

—You go first, give me a second to finish this— you said, breaking the tense silence.

Your red haired boyfriend shook his head —Ladies first—.

You let out a snort —Oh, well, excuse me, Sir Yang— you mocked, effectively making him smile with dimples and everything. Without breaking eye contact, you slid to the side of the bed and put the box under it —You concern me sometimes— he joked and helped you get on your feet —C’mon, the pasta is probably cold right now— he placed a hand on your back to guide you towards the living room, but as soon as he stepped foot outside, you pushed him and closed the door, leaving him outside the bedroom —Are you kidding me?!— you heard him complain from outside.

—You go and check if the pasta is cold! I'll go in a minute!— you said, holding tightly onto the handle just in case he was not done teasing you yet.

Instead, you heard his laugh ringing from the other side of the door —Fine, but if you're not back in exactly a minute, I'm eating your plate—.

You gasped —You wouldn't…—.

—My stomach grew one year older, it can fit more food now!— he sounded proud of himself.

You clicked your tongue, it was a shame Jungwon could not see how fondly you were smiling at his joke —Whatever you say, baby—.

You rushed towards your improvised hiding spot once more and collected all the remaining lego pieces —This looked so much easier on the manual…— you complained to yourself, wondering how could your boyfriend spend so much time with these kinds of toys.

You were not really into legos, but oh, well, sometimes love makes people do unimaginable things.

You looked at the time, fifty seconds has passed since Jungwon left, but he would never eat your pasta… would he?

Lego in hand, you quickly left the bedroom and headed to where your boyfriend was. You found him scrolling through his phone with two plates full of pasta in front of him —Now I feel bad for doubting you— you spoke your thoughts out loud, making his attention divert from his phone to you.

—You should feel bad for leaving me alone, on my own birthday!— seriously, someone should give this man an Oscar.

You sat on the couch beside him and kissed his drama away, making him giggle like a schoolgirl; that is just how easy it is for you to break through his defenses every time. —I got you a gift— you said and he lookes at you with an unimpressed expression —...Was I being too obvious?—

—Baby, no offense but, locking yourself up in my room, on my birthday, and making up excuses to keep me away…— he counted with his fingers all the reasons why you were terrible at making surprises.

—Okay, okay, I get it— you cut him off —Do you want the gift or not?— it was now your time to pout at him, you had worked so hard for this! That's what happens when a lego newbie tries to speedrun a set.

Jungwon nodded eagerly —Of course!— he tried to look behind you but you moved to hide the gift again.

—It's no fun if you already know it's a lego set…— you pondered, making your boyfriend remember the pain of stepping on a piece once more —I know! I'll give you three hints and you guess what it is!— you smiled at him, leaving no room to discuss.

He wanted to protest, mostly because his stomach was begging for food, but it was your gift and your rules, so he nodded —Fine, bring it— he crossed his legs and faced you.

—First hint!— you started, also crossing your legs and positioning yourself in a way that your knees were touching his —Some people think they are mean because they put on a serious front, but in reality they love giving and receiving affection!— you tried your best not to sound too obvious and luckily, the expression of peak confusion in Jungwon's face confirmed that you had done a good job.

—I had no idea Jay had his own lego set, I'm so jealous…— he pursed his lips and focused his eyes nowhere in particular, a cute habit of his that showed every time his brain was at full capacity —I don’t know… next hint?—.

Your fingers played mindlessly with the gift behind your back —They are pretty sleepers… actually, you will never catch them looking bad— you waited for your boyfriend to think about your hint, but it was no use, he shook his head again, signaling you to continue —Okay, third hint! And if you don't get it, I'm keeping it—.

—Hey! That's not fair!— he whined, even though both of you knew you were far from being serious.

—They have big, shiny eyes!— you dropped the last hint —The prettiest eyes I have ever seen—.

He noticed the way you were looking at him, it was the same loving look you gave him every time you were about to kiss him or hug him, the kind of look full of adoration you gave him while complimenting or reassuring him; the same view that made him fall in love with you all over again.

—Is it… me?— he muttered, suddenly feeling shy under your gaze.

A big smile appeared on your face —Yeah! It's you!— finally, it was time to show him the piece you had worked so hard on —Happy birthday, Jungwon— you put the toy in his hands and used yours to cup his face, pecking his lips once and gently squishing his cheeks.

The boy smiled and pulled you closer and kissed you again, not letting go until he was fully satisfied —Thank you, love— he looked down at the reduced space between you two, where a red cat made of legos rested —That's not me though?—.

You frowned —What do you mean? Of course it is!— you gestured at it as if to prove your point —The hair color matches and everything!—.

He snorted, putting the mini Jungwon on the table and getting up —I guess you're right… I'll get something to drink, I already feel like my stomach is consuming itself—.

—You’re so dramatic— you giggled at his pettiness, when a sudden cry made you jump from your seat. —Jungwon? What happened?— you started making your way to the kitchen when your eyes landed on the cat, realizing that one of the pieces was missing —Oh, crap—.

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A/N: I'm so late lmao. There's so much to say about this little cat guy, but I really can't find the words so I'll just wish him the happiest birthday!! I love him so much:(

Pd: I have no idea if the title is correct, I used google translate because I couldn't find the exact word I wanted to use💀

[tvreadsandsleep]

» Domestic!Attoye || Attoye Prompt Drabbles || Master List « » Domestic Establishment #2 — Continuation of We need more room «

The scan Okoye had performed with her Kimoyo Beads had informed her that none of the bones in her foot had been broken, but the throbbing, which had just begun to settle down after five minutes of icing, had her doubting those results. On a positive note, her ears had finally stopped ringing. Instead of crying and shrieking at deafening decibels, her boys both sat happily in their highchairs. They babbled at one another as they ate the food, she’d hobbled back and forth in the kitchen to prepare for them.

They were the only babies she’d ever seen who ate everything placed in front of them without fuss or delay. They inherited their father’s appetite, she thought to herself, smiling as she remembered the antics she’d witnessed, as a teen, when her younger cousins had fought and cried, throwing food about because they didn’t want to eat. That could never be her boys. The most they did was bang their little plates, demanding more.

Her amusement with her sons’ stomachs was interrupted with the entrance of her husband and daughter. Uproarious laughter came from the pair, Attuma tickling Naleli as the girl snorted and begged him to stop, that was until he took note of the ice pack Okoye had placed on her foot, the limb elevated on the seat in front of her. Naleli, following her father’s eyes, also glanced at her, cackle stopping short.

“What has happened, my love?” Attuma asked over their daughter’s, “Are you okay, mom?” Attuma unhanded the girl, and she promptly made her way to her mother, engulfing Okoye in a hug.

“I’m okay, sweetie. My foot just had a run in with your brother’s highchair. It hurts, but the pain is fading.”

“Oh, okay,” Naleli smiled, “Should I kiss it to make it better,” the preteen joked, eyes bright in good humor.

As always, Okoye’s heart melted, everything within her chest turning to mush, when confronted with the adorableness of one of her children. Naleli had taken after her father, his dimples carved into each of her cheeks and creating the sweetest, most charming expression whenever she smiled. Okoye was hard-pressed to deny that face anything, but had learned early on that allowing her daughter’s every whim would lead to ruin.  

“That won’t be necessary,” she answered, wiggling her fingers into Naleli’s abdomen. The girl giggled then jumped back out of Okoye’s reach.

“What you can do for me is take your brothers into the living room so that your father and I can talk.”

That piqued Attuma’s curiosity—drawing his attention from his sons, who both had begun gurgling and vying for his focus, while attempting to climb from their highchairs, from the moment he’d arrived. Placing the boys, who’d been climbing all over his person, on the ground, to their loud protests, he sat in a chair he moved adjacent to Okoye.

“Let’s go Eloy and Taavi. It sounds like dad might be in trouble,” Naleli threw over her shoulder as she dragged her toddling brothers out of the room.

Attuma snorted, but turned soft eyes on Okoye, faking a pout when he asked, “Am I in trouble, my love? What can I do to win your favor?”

Okoye gave him a hard look, glaring briefly and crossing her arms before sighing deeply to relax her face and limbs. She rolled her eyes, sighing again, unhappily.

“You were right,” she finally admitted. “We need more room. We have to move now, sooner rather than later.”

“I was right? It is not often that I hear such from your lips.” He leaned back in his seat, smug as he moved her foot from its perch on the chair to rest on his lap. He removed the ice pack to scrutinize the damage that had been done. He noticed several of her toes were swollen, but was satisfied that she was able to move them without difficulty.

“It doesn’t hurt as much,” she supplied, watching while he began to massage the rest of her foot.

“Does this have something to do with your sudden acceptance?”

“Yes, that and having to climb over your gigantic furniture and all the kids’ stuff in order to get across a room. The house is always a mess, and I can’t organize anything because there isn’t room for everything! We just need more space!”

Attuma increased the strength of his kneading, silently urging Okoye to calm.

“While I never want you hurt, I am pleased that you have finally agreed with me, especially as I have commissioned architects from both our nations to collaborate on the design of our new home.”