#i dunno what post prompted this but ill check lol

[daedalusdavinci]

i dont really know who or how many people check my blog for updates on where im at with my writing and stuff but in honor of starting to come out of the fog im just going to like. level, really quick. writing is a personal affair intricately tied to what were coping with at the time so as i give updates for what i have planned im also going to talk about shit im going through so heres your warning now

you might have seen it in the a/n for brothers return for the whole ten seconds it was there before i backspaced it out of existence but a family member of mine died in october and writing- living, really- has been almost impossible since. its only just now starting to get easier.

we finally spread the ashes a couple weeks ago or so now and it feels. lighter, now. easier to breathe. i have his art hanging in my bedroom and im going to see my cousins again in a week and my foot is broken so i have all new things to focus on, and its. yknow. we move forward.

ive written a couple of things between now and october but looking at them they feel... short, and hollow, and i can tell i wasnt feeling what i was writing even though i convinced myself at the time that it was good enough. theres a very good chance ill try and rewrite brothers return and the second robin (i HATE those titles btw), because i feel like theyre fics that need to happen but its also. SO hard to write about resurrection when youre grieving?? lol??? like. someone in my life died and im never getting him back and now i have to put myself in dicks shoes where he DOES get jason back and its just. thats not easy, man. its suddenly become an almost impossible topic. but im hoping, now, that maybe i can finally reconnect with it and rewrite it in a way im actually satisfied with

snow day i will straight up be dubbing noncanon from now on. i doomed myself the second i wrote son of dent and made it so harvey and bruce have to not be dating the entire fucking time jasons a kid and ive managed to keep to that pretty well so far adn find wiggle room here and there but snow day was really. sldkjfnslkdnfsdf its a plot hole. its a huge plot hole. i wrote it because i wanted to write something that felt good not something that made sense and i SUCCEEDED but man does it not make sense. so im just gonna be striking it from the canon and keeping it up regardless.

moving into future fics, though. i dunno, man. i finally plotted out that detective au ive wanted to write for ages but its gonna be long and im scared to start it.

i did read all of damians preboot comics (or at least, the ones on the list i was given) (id read some before and ive read some n52 ones already so this was just filling in the last of the gaps (mostly his origin story)) and filled in the last of the preboot timeline (post jasons resurrection, idc about anything before that) so i feel prepared to write the next installment of the jdau, whatever that is, but i havent decided exactly what that is. itll probably be al ghul centric, tho. thats all i know tho! thats all i know

but i guess. keep your expectations low. im figuring things out. might reopen prompt requests soon tho, and im trying my absolute best

[chimivx]

expecting, expected. // myg.

pairing: Idol!Yoongi x Female!Reader, and ot7 { couple from vegas, baby }

summary: Exhaustion, anxiety, hormones... This is life now, for the next nine months... And it's time to tell your friends!

words: 6k

warnings: fluffy (lol), mentions of sex, suggestive conversation, jikook warning, drinking, grown adults out for dinner and interacting, If I missed anything PLEASE LET ME KNOW.

a/n: HI! You already know what I'm posting. VEGAS SERIES ADDITION! I'm unsure how I feel about this one... Fell in love with it, but now... I dunno. I hope you ENJOY IT if you read it! I'm in need of more fluffy dad!Yoongi so be prepared, more of that will be coming. I'm never letting this series go.

{ find the vegas, series here to get to know this couple some more }

Tucked beneath a blanket, curled up in a ball on Yoongi’s lap watching the new episode of Run BTS, you were fighting to keep your eyes open, doing the slow blink. Running his fingers through your hair, dragging his fingernails soothingly over your scalp, it was as if Yoongi was actively trying to get you to fall asleep. That’s all you’ve been able to do for the past two weeks anyway, and it didn’t matter where you were, you were dozing off at random.

Shortly after the Golden Disc Awards, and that blur of a day, you were scheduled to see a doctor where the news you knew to be true was confirmed. Yoongi stood by your side watching attentively as the doctors did bloodwork, spoke with you about your symptoms, and gave you a long list of do’s and don'ts for you to follow for the next nine months after they showed the two of you that you were definitely pregnant.

This early on it wasn’t necessary for you to see a doctor yet, considering your age and your health, however Yoongi let his worry’s slip to a director, one of the higher ups that had most of the power. Keeping the entire situation on the down low, it was decided you’d be treated as if you were an Idol yourself, being ushered into the office almost against your will, a place where you’d get the most prompt, unconditional care throughout your pregnancy.

You didn’t expect anything less from Yoongi. That morning, holding onto his hand, his other was wrapped around you protectively wherever you went. You knew he would go overboard. Your dark haired, still in physical therapy boyfriend found a new hobby- waiting on you hand and foot, like he wasn’t the star of the household. None of that even mattered in your rapport anyway, you were the star of his life.

After the awards, once the two of you were back home and cuddled underneath the safety of your bed covers, nearly nose to nose, you took turns speaking into the early hours of the morning. Initial shock had subsided, and you were both able to actively listen to one another, and think rationally. Yoongi expressed his excitement, telling you how he dreams of this, wanting to do it all with you, only if you wanted it too.

When the sun had risen and the time was checked, laughter was shared along with a reassuring kiss. 

Meeting Yoongi at twenty two, you were young, still at the beginning of your life. Barely out of college, you didn’t have a clue if you ever wanted to have children, the thought rarely crossed your mind. For a while it was full of, how am I going to pay for my next meal, before it did a complete one eighty, turning into, what city are we flying to next? You were jet-set for six years until the global shutdown of the year 2020.

Now, age twenty eight, with seven years of a relationship down, living with the man who knew you better than anyone else, and loved you three times as much… Things had shifted. A universal halt wasn’t expected because of a new rampant illness in the world, and though it came with extreme measures, it was exactly what you and Yoongi needed. It gave you time to grow up a little bit, your subconscious doing most of that work. 

During the hours and hours of whispering like two people with a secret, the work done in the shadows was unveiled, sparking the realization that you did in fact want this. You were ready for the next step of life with the man you loved.

“Oh, you’re out,” You hear Yoongi speak quietly to himself, feeling him shift beneath you a bit. With closed eyes, you roll over to face his torso and sigh, wrapping an arm around his waist, weaseling it between his back and the couch cushion.

“Not out,” You barely whisper. Yoongi looks down at your sleepy face with a smile, putting a hand back into your hair, stroking it with care.

“You missed the rest of the episode,” He says, “You started snoring before they even split into teams.”

“No… I didn’t,” You mumble, “I saw.”

“Who won?” He perks an eyebrow, finding it amusing you were laying here lying to him in real time.

Without missing a beat you whisper, “Jungkook,” And he starts to laugh, resting his head back on the couch.

Both teams had won actually, they made some incredible food. Yoongi was content with you on his lap, and hungry. He debated telling you the truth, but figured you’d want to rewatch it later when you had some more energy, so he kept the answer to himself. This was the second time you tried to watch it, you fell asleep during the premiere of it last night, curling up under his arm in bed.

Letting you rest, Yoongi picks up his phone to check his messages. There were plans set for later today with the guys, and Sunny was joining as well, flying in from a job to visit. The nine of you were meeting for dinner at a cozy, quiet spot where you would be able to share the news of your pregnancy with your family. Though two of them were told two weeks ago, they kept their mouths shut, which was utterly impressive.

The seven boys were interviewed the night of the Golden Disc Awards, and there was a moment of panic that something would slip, at least to more of the boys. The interviewer had them share New Years wishes with each other, sending it to the boy to their right. Jin, the unlucky bastard, was stood next to Yoongi and had to watch his mouth.

There was so much he wanted to say, so much he wanted to share, he found out moments ago that his best friend was going to be a father. This new year was huge for Yoongi, one he’s dreamed of, and Jin wanted to shout his happiness from the rooftops. 

Loving someone as much as Jin loved Yoongi, and watching that person go through hardship after hardship finally find their reason for living, their reason for true happiness… That’s a feeling that can’t be explained.

So, opting for awkward laughter and the introverted persona of Jin, he shared his well wishes with Yoongi carefully, taking his time, making sure it was simple. Yoongi listened anxiously, beckoning him with his eyes pointed to the floor to keep it quick, but took his brother's words to heart, recognizing and understanding every underlying meaning behind the short message.

Looking through his phone now, he has two unread messages from Jin that he swipes by, deciding to open them after he reaches out to Sunny. Tapping on her thread, he chuckles at the last picture he sent- you sitting on the bathroom floor in just a t-shirt, glaring at the camera, flashing him a middle finger. It was from a couple of days ago when you were physically unable to be in any other room, because the moment you stepped off the tile, you were overcome by nausea and yanked back in front of the toilet.

Thankfully that period of time didn’t last too long. Now you’re going through an energy depletion, the tiny little group of cells inside of you stealing it all soon after you try to recharge.

Sunny, who was now working select dates with a couple Kardashians, was oblivious, and didn’t think anything strange of the picture. She sent a heart in reply, and went on her merry way through Los Angeles, shaking salads with Kourtney.

[yoongi]: ETA?

Yoongi sends to your best friend, watching the screen as bubbles pop up in an instant.

[Sunita Sunshine]: Landed about a half hour ago!!! I’m in an Uber…… meeting Jin for drinks before we come see you guys

[Sunita Sunshine]: How’s lover girl feeling??? Any better?

Yoongi’s heart just about flies out of his chest. He types back to her with lightning speed.

[yoongi]: She’s great… Why?

[Sunita Sunshine]: She was sick right??? Before golden discs until like a couple days ago….. I talked to her

He sighs, letting his eyes shut for a second, completely forgetting the two of you, though in different parts of the world most times, still shared everything with each other.

[yoongi]: Right. Yeah she’s good now, she can't wait to see you

Tilting his head to the side, he peeks down at you from behind his phone screen. Eyes closed, lips parted slightly, taking in slow deep breaths, you sure seemed ecstatic to be having dinner with the best friend you haven’t seen in a couple of months.

The iPhone in Yoongi’s hand starts to buzz dramatically. He’s had his ringer turned off for a few days since these bouts of narcolepsy were at random. A facetime was coming in from Jungkook, another member of his group that had the pleasure of knowing your secret. You couldn’t help yourself, when he flashed you a wholesome smile and your emotional state was overcome by comfort, you let it slip.

“Hey, man,” Yoongi answers, keeping his voice quiet. He clicks the volume down a few notches, watching the screen as it’s pointed at the cloudy, grey, January sky. “Are you outside?”

“Hey, yeah,” Jungkook says, finally appearing inside the box wearing a black bucket hat over his bleach blonde hair, “I’m about to walk into Jimin’s, I just left the studio,” Yoongi can hear the smacking of his stompers on the concrete, “They, uh, they want to do my hair purple for Butter.”

“Oh no,” Yoongi mutters as Jungkook glances away for a second to somewhere ahead of him, and smiles. His eyes crinkled in the corners.

“Did I just hear you say they want your hair purple?” Jimin can be heard off screen. It goes black for a second, Yoongi can hear muffled voices, then the top of Jungkook’s head appears again.

“Yeah, purple,” Jungkook sighs.

“Thought you wanted it blue, maybe?” The end of Jimin’s sentence sounded like he said the word, baby, instead of, maybe, but maybe Yoongi’s brain was overridden by nerves for this evening, making him hear things. The two step into Jimin’s home, Yoongi just along for the ride as they converse about this dire hair matter.

“Uh,” He gets their attention back and points the phone down to you. Jimin coo’s, peering at the screen with a pouty lip. “Can this be discussed tonight? Why was I called?” Yoongi chuckles, bringing the camera focus back to himself. Jungkook cringes, like he suddenly remembered your condition.

“Sorry,” He says, “She wasn’t answering, thought it meant Sunny was there, I need to talk to her about it.”

“You’ll see her tonight,” Yoongi says, “She’s getting drinks with Jin right now.”

“Jin?!” Jimin exclaims, grabbing the phone from Jungkook’s hands, “That woman wanted to see ME!” The diva was shushed by both Yoongi and Jungkook, the youngest snatching his phone back from his tiny hands.

“I’ll see you later,” Jungkook says to Yoongi before he glances up to Jimin, “I don’t want purple hai-” And the phone hangs up, trilling a sad little tune, announcing the end of the call.

“His TinyTan has dark hair, D, I swear, if I have to create one for Butter, and I’m told to match whatever color they give him, Army will rip me to shreds if the shade isn’t right,” You say, startling your boyfriend the slightest, “Remember the pink hair? I didn’t sleep.” Opening your eyes, you look up at Yoongi who is gazing back with a small smile. Placing his phone aside, he shakes his head.

“You won’t be doing anything, you’re taking time off from work,” He says, keeping his tone soft, “No more sleepless nights and caffeine highs.” Rolling your eyes, you huff.

“Yeah, that’s for after September,” You whisper, though you were unsure when your baby would be arriving. It takes him a couple of seconds to catch what you said, both of you laughing once he does. 

Sitting up, you situate yourself beside him and smile, saying, “Dream ON is doing really well.”

“Why are you checking stats?” Yoongi disciplines, sliding an arm around your shoulders.

“I have to stay busy,” You shrug, “TinyTan was my entire year last year, do you know how many ideas I have? I already have something for Dynamite on paper, even though no one’s asked me to do it.”

“I don’t want you to stress yourself out, there’s no reason to rush. You need rest.”

“No, I need them out of the Mic Drop outfits, it’s been years since that came out, I don’t know what I was thinking,” You shake your head before laying it on his shoulder. It was a tad sore today, but Yoongi didn’t mention it. He needed you to be comfortable, he wasn’t worried about himself at all.

Planting a kiss to the top of your head, he keeps his head there, lifting the hand that was around your shoulder to graze your hair once more. His gentle touch is soothing, helping you relax like it had when you laid down to watch the show, but coupled with the kiss, your raging hormones were reading the wrong room.

Lifting your head, you turn your chin to press your lips to his in a rush. Yoongi barely has a chance to react before you climb into his lap and slide your hands around his neck, slipping them up into his black locks. Parting your lips, you dance your tongue across his bottom lip and deepen the kiss, the strongest warmth erupting within your center. Powerless with his head locked to the cushion, Yoongi hums and attempts to pull away.

“Baby,” He chuckles as you resort to kissing his cheek, down to his jaw.

“Shhh,” You hush, dipping your head to press open mouthed kisses to his neck.

“You should nap, we have dinner.”

“Not tired anymore,” You sigh, dragging your tongue from his collar bone to behind his ear, nibbling his earlobe for half a second, “I need you.”

“You need sleep, you’ll be nodding off at dessert,” Yoongi’s eyes shut during the jaw kisses, he thinks, his voice coming out of him now on auto-pilot while his body responded to you directly. His breathy, lust filled sigh that leaves his lips after his words makes your brain short circuit. Grinding down on his lap, your fingers tighten in his hair, giving the strands a harsh tug. Brushing your nose against his, you kiss his lips and whine after you part.

“Yoongi,” Whispering his full name, something that rarely leaves your lips, his eyes pop open, heavy lidded. The desperate riff graces his ears while your widened eyes plead with his. Yoongi could easily walk away from this, let you go upstairs to get some sleep before your night out, and be completely fine. On the other hand, your fixed gaze was begging him, telling him that you were not going to be completely fine if he didn’t do something.

His eyes studying you was nearly enough of a connection to satisfy the emotional hunger, but then his hands slid up your thighs and your knees tightened around his waist. Every move he made, your body heightened the sensation to a hundred.

“Take me upstairs… Right now,” You whisper from behind clenched teeth. Yoongi smirks, giving the round of your ass a squeeze, watching your body melt before him, listening with delight as his traveling fingers make you moan and groan.

“There’s no time to go upstairs,” He breathes, gripping your waist as he stands to his feet, laying you down on your back, settling over you, “Gonna fuck this out of you right here.”

In the backseat of the car taking you to dinner, Yoongi’s hand was sliding up and down the inside of your thigh. His eyes were on the road where he sat in the center seat, staying observant of your surroundings at all times.

Glancing down to your phone that had been blowing up for the past five minutes, you open another message from Sunny.

[Sunny Girl]: Why did Tae just say you have something to tell us???? Can you HURRY UP and GET HERE

“She’s pissed,” You show Yoongi the message, and he laughs under his breath.

“Tell her I had to pry you off of me to get you in the shower,” He raises a brow, keeping his words quiet, between you. Pressing your lips together, you shoot him a silly glare.

“I don’t know what to say to her,” You say, staring at the text, “I don’t know what to say to anybody, I’m freaking out.” Yoongi looks back down at you, this time with worried eyes.

“Freaking out?” He mumbles, giving your leg a squeeze.

“Aren’t you nervous?” You ask with a small laugh, meeting his eyes. Thinking to himself, he takes a deep breath and shakes his head. “What?!”

“Baby, two of them know already,” He breaks into a grin, but not to diminish your anxiety, to help push down his own. On the inside he was a mess, on the outside he was as cool as a cucumber. The two of you shared crises, and he knew that this one would be yours to have, so he ignored his own anxiety for you.

“I’ve known Sunny since I was twelve,” You say, “You see the way she loves me, this is about to deck her straight in the face, D,” Yoongi holds in a laugh, and nods, “What if she tries to do something crazy?”

“Like what?”

“Like, like…” You glance around the car as if the answer was going to jump out from the wrinkles in the leather seats, “Like, put her job on hold, and try to move in with us… Or, or… Quit the Kardashian show, and move in with us…”

“Hm,” Yoongi frowns, lowering his brows, “Sounds like you want her to move in with us.”

“No!” You shout, slapping a hand to his chest, “I don’t want that! We don’t want that,” You lower your voice dramatically, “Trust me, I lived with Sun, you don’t want that.”

“Okay, then if she tries, we tell her no,” Yoongi soothes, letting his hand explore the fabric of your pants like it had been for the ride. He glances to your hand on his chest that was slowly starting to grip the cotton, your fingers tightening passionately. “Take a deep breath, please.” Yoongi reaches for your hand, declawing it from his beating heart, linking his fingers with yours. Listening, you suck in a breath and release it with shaky hands.

The car makes one last turn around a tall, white building, coming to a stop at the back where your car door was opened for you. Clutching Yoongi’s fingers like he was going to leave, you slide out of the car and come face to face with a familiar man who gives you the most welcoming smile, washing away some of your nerves.

“Branson, you would be here,” You grin, throwing an arm around his back to hug him, keeping Yoongi close. The two guys share pleasantries, then the head of security looks you up and down and shrugs.

“You’re here, I have to be,” He says, “Shall we?” Branson gestures toward the door, giving the space behind and around the car a scan with his sharp eyes.

Gripping the long, metal hand of the door, Yoongi pulls it open for you, letting you lead him inside the dimly lit, beautifully decorated restaurant that smelled of everything delicious. He feels your fingers tighten even more, if that was possible, and it makes him wonder how powerful your grip will be the day you give birth to the child. This is only the day you’re telling your friends you’re having it, he had nine more months to get used to this.

Passing by the bathrooms, Yoongi pulls you back a second to make sure you saw where they were, then lets you continue on your flustered jog down the hall. Turning a corner, the space you’ve arrived in is totally empty, except for a round table in the corner that is surrounded by your rowdy group of friends making a scene with drinks in their hands.

“AYE!” Is called out from the commotion, and six other heads whip around to find you approaching with a pep in your step. Sunny, leaping to her feet with two glasses in her hand, clicks over to your side in her high heels and hugs you as best as she can with the drinks occupying her extremities. Kissing both of your cheeks, she sighs and takes a long look at you, big, soft eyes taking in every detail.

Wearing a smile, her eyes narrow a bit, asking you quietly, “Why do you look different?” 

“Different?” You repeat in a flash, glancing over your shoulder at Yoongi, “I don’t look… I don’t look different.” Nervous laughter escapes you with every breath.

“You were having sex when I called you three times, weren’t you?” Sunny grills, turning her eyes over to Yoongi who smirks, pointing his chin up to the ceiling to avoid her glare. Blushing, the nervous laughter takes over.

“Sunny!” You say, wiggling Yoongi’s hand that was still latched to yours. Your best friend looks down at them.

“You can’t even let go of him,” She laughs with you, “It’s alright, I know, you’re in love, nothings changed,” Sticking her tongue out to mark her faux disgust, she holds out one of the glasses in her hands, giving it to you, “Here, Jungkook tried to tell me I shouldn’t get it for you, but tonight is a night to celebrate!”

“Celebrate?” You question.

“Yes! All of us here, together. I haven’t seen this in months,” The smile that relaxes her face is sincere, “Which makes me have to ask,” She shifts her attention to Yoongi, “How’s the shoulder?” Stepping closer to him, she lifts her now empty hand to rub his arm. Using this opportunity to slip away, you release his hand to hurry over to Jungkook sitting beside Jimin at the table.

Watching as you scurry away, Yoongi answers all of Sunny’s questions while shaking his now emancipated fingers.

“I assume this is for you?” You half ask the blonde boy standing up to give you a hug and a kiss on the cheek, “Smells a little fruity, must be yours,” Jungkook giggles, baring his teeth, taking the icey glass from you.

“Told her not to get it, but she insisted,” He rolled his eyes, “She’s persistent that one.” Pulling back a chair on the other side of him, he offers it to you, pushing you in after you sit down.

“Don’t I know it,” You say, giving Jimin a wave.

“She doesn’t know it’s really for me,” Jungkook lifts the glass as if to ‘cheers’, then takes a sip. His lips pull into a frown as he swallows it. “Oh god,” Wincing at the flavor, he sits the glass on the polished wood finish of the table and slides it in front of Jimin, “Maybe this is for you.” He whispers, making you laugh.

“Kookie,” You pop out your bottom lip staring at his wavy hair, “Are they really going to make you go purple?” He groans, folding his hands on his lap.

“I don’t want it,” He says, sitting back in his chair, “I like this blonde, and I honestly would want blue over purple,” Jungkook nods toward Sunny, still chatting away with Yoongi and now Jin who joined the duo, “She says blue is better with, uh, I dunno, something about my skintone?”

“Oh my god!” You lean into him, grabbing his arm, “Do blue, think about me, do blue. I have designs to do, even though Yoongi won’t let me near them, and if you do blue it will be so much easier to mix.”

“Why won’t he let you near your work?” Jimin asks, inviting himself into the conversation with a scrunched up face of confusion. Straightening up, you clear your throat and look at Jungkook for help. He looks at you, then at Jimin, then back to you and widens his eyes in defeat. Releasing the tiniest sigh, you tilt your head and play dumb.

“I think it’s because I was sick,” You say convincingly enough.

“Oh, yeah,” Jimin’s face shifts to a worried one, “I’d wanna ease you back in too, especially with everything we have coming up between the singles and the music videos and the shows-”

“Chim,” Jungkook cuts him off with a smile, then turns to you, “You’ll be fine, I promise.” Amidst Jimin's rambles, the anxiety about work you've set aside for the future wanted to worm its way into this important night. Babies were time, babies were money. Two things you once used to struggle with before you fell into the grasp of the man walking up behind your chair.

Yoongi’s arms slid around your shoulders slowly. Everyone took their seats around the table, leaving the chair next to you empty for your boyfriend to have.

“Do we need to walk away?” He whispers to you, smiling and nodding at Hoseok across the table. A shake of your head wasn’t enough to get him off your case, he whispers again, “What’s going on?”

“Normal stuff,” You mumble, turning your chin to peek at him.

“New normal stuff?” He raises a brow.

“No, we’ve talked about it before.”

“Lovebirds, can we eat?” Sunny sing songs, waving her hands in your direction, “I’m starved.”

The thought of eating mixed with your nerves has you screwing your eyes shut as nausea clouds over your being. On your back you feel Yoongi take a breath, and stand up tall, placing both hands on either of your shoulders. Massaging you for a moment, he sighs theatrically, catching the attention of the attendance around the table.

“We’re still… getting better,” Yoongi bobs his head. A couple of the guys pulled a face, or nodded along with him, Sunny however, was quick to pick up his bullshit.

“You said she was great earlier,” She says, confused.

“Uh, well, you know what it’s like to come back from being sick, right?” Yoongi nervously chuckles, glancing at Jin and Jungkook for some kind of backup. He wasn’t sure you were going to go through with telling them tonight, this could be you backing out of your announcement. Jin launches forward, sipping his drink through a straw.

“Totally!” He says with wide eyes, picking up on his cue, coughing after he swallows his drink, “If you guys need to go, we get it.” Yoongi gives him a smile to thank him.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Sunny’s voice gets louder. Sitting forward herself, she bumps Jin's shoulder, “You’ve been at their defense all day, this girl is fine,” She then squints at how you were sitting, still with your eyes shut, barely taking in any of the conversation happening around you, “I know you, I know you two, something is up.” Snapping your eyes open, you jump up to your feet, taking everyone by surprise. Sunny’s words had struck a nerve, a fiery one.

“I… We…” You choke out, reaching a hand behind you to grab something of Yoongi’s. Finding his hand, you yank him closer. One of his arms slides around your body, holding you close to his front, while his other holds your hand happily, his thumb drawing circles on your palm. Anxiety has riddled your expression, but Yoongi’s smirk tells the group that there’s something juicy on the way.

“Oh my god,” Sunny gasps, planting her fingers over her mouth, looking down at your left hand, searching it for clues. That’s the first thing that gets you to finally smile.

“What!?” Taehyung glances at her, attempting to follow the line of her eyes, “What is going on?” 

“Say something, somebody,” Namjoon bangs a fist on the table once, wearing  a light smile, sitting forward with anticipation like those without the knowledge of your news.

“Tell them,” Yoongi says quietly, yet loud enough for everybody to hear him. Your tentative eyes scour the table, starting with Jin who couldn’t put his drink down, passing by suspicious Sunny, confused Taehyung, smiley Namjoon, hopeful Hoseok, and pouty Jimin, ending with Jungkook who held tens of thousands of galaxies in his eyes. The smile he wore was incredibly sincere, gazing up at you like you were his idol. 

Giving Yoongi one more look, he smiles, waiting patiently.

“I’m not sick,” You say with a breath, turning back to your friends. Taehyung fake gasps, making Hoseok giggle. Yoongi scolds them with his eyes, the two friends jumping back into place, to listen to what you have to say, but you choke again. “Can’t do it, you do it.” You whisper, squeezing Yoongi’s hand.

“Me? You sure?” He asks, and you nod, closing your eyes. Yoongi wastes no time, looking out proudly to his friends. “We’re pregnant,” He says with a grin. 

At the sound of the words, your eyes open to a reaction you did not expect. No one had moved.

“Is that it?” Taehyung asks.

“Yeah,” You breathe, “That’s it. I’m pregnant.”

“Fucking called it!” He shouts with a smile toward Jimin. 

“You did not call this, this was expected,” The It boy rolls his eyes.

“Hold on,” You stop the bickering by holding up a hand, “This was expected?” You tilt your chin and glare at him. Pouty lips smirk back.

“Guys,” He says quietly, looking between you and Yoongi.

“He’s not wrong,” Hoseok says sheepishly, lifting his shoulders to his ears.

“What!” Yoongi sighs, laughing. Jimin starts to plead his case with Taehyung and Hoseok to Yoongi, bringing up your relationship's past, and your favorite thing to do together. You want to listen, you want to hear what they’re discussing, because it’s about you, but you’re glued on Sunny.

Sitting sideways, body facing Jin, her eyes that were once sharp, and a little pissed off, had softened immensely. Your goddess of a best friend slowly shook her head in tiny, lips parting in shock. Standing up, pushing her chair back aggressively, she pulled the boys away from their amusing bickering, her aura sucking them in.

“You’re pregnant?” She asks just above a whisper, never once leaving your gaze. Nodding, your smile starts to grow. “You’re gonna keep it?”

“Wouldn’t have told you all I was if I wasn’t,” You chuckle awkwardly, feeling a lump in your throat, “I’m gonna be a mom.” The cry breaks, tears stream down your cheeks as Sunny pushes past Jin’s chair to throw her arms around you, holding you so tight you can feel her heart beating a mile a minute.

“You’re gonna be a mom,” She repeats, and her own tears start.

“Yeah, you are!” Jungkook cheers, the next one to stand up. Holding open his arms for Yoongi, your boyfriend smiles and takes him in, patting him on his back a couple of times, sending him another type of thank you for keeping your secret.

There is at least five minutes occupied by hugs, and congratulations, and kisses as you and Yoongi share broken info with each member who was the next to approach you. Yoongi tells the story of the Golden Disc Awards, how that was the day you had found out, and ultimately the reason you were plastered to the couch the entire time, not even making it out to see the show. At the mention of it, you feel your heart twist. You wanted to watch that performance.

“Holy shit,” Taehyung sings, slapping an arm around Yoongi’s back.

“I know,” Yoongi says. Since he spilled the news, he was unable to control his smile.

“And I thought Jimin would be the first,” Taehyung says.

“Hah,” Jimin cackles, “I can’t get pregnant!” In front of him, Jungkook shoots him the quickest look of worry, like he just leaked some kind of secret of his own, but it’s brushed away as fast as it had come up.

“What the hell did that mean?” You ask Jungkook, elbowing his tattooed bicep. 

“No idea,” He whispers, giving Jimin a deadly look.

“You besties okay?” You question, a joking tone hidden within it.

“We’re fine,” Jungkook sighs, switching to a more positive energy, “How do you feel? Everyone knows!” He hugs you for the fifth time, giving you a shake.

“I think… I think I feel hungry,” You say after some thought, and Jungkook pulls away with mischievous eyebrows that make you giggle.

“You’ve read my mind,” He says, then releases you to toss his hands in the air, gathering the attention of the room, “Baby Mama is hungry, let’s eat.” He blushes at his own words, covering his mouth with a hand as he glances at you with a grin.

“Baby Mama!” Sunny repeats, the group laughing together.

Yoongi approaches you as everyone begins to take their seats. With his lips pulled into a smile puffing out his cheeks, your stomach takes a tumble, finding him incredibly adorable. Sliding his arms around your torso, he pulls you close and kisses your temple. 

“I don’t think I see anyone packing their bags,” He says quietly, pressing his forehead to yours. Rolling your eyes, you smile and laugh under your breath.

“Give her a week,” You say, rising to your tiptoes to give him a proper kiss, and when you take a breath, you smirk and whisper, “Congratulations daddy.”

Widening his eyes, Yoongi huffs a laugh, shaking his head, “No, no, don’t do that.” 

With a giggle, you press your lips to his, and mumble a quiet, “I love you.”

Taking your seats at the table with your friends, there’s a tremendous relief, a huge weight taken off of your shoulders now that they know. Throughout the dinner they asked a million and one questions, which should’ve made you nervous, but instead gave you an excitement you haven’t felt yet.

All seven of your friends were going to be there for you throughout this entire experience, ready to help, ready to pitch in, ready to look after you, as well as the man beside you who held his hand over your thigh for the entirety of dinner. You were loved, you were supported, but most importantly, you were happy. Completely, utterly, truly happy.

Here are some of the events & works mentioned in this piece for reference... I spent some time studying & watching these!

Golden Disc Interview

TinyTAN Dream ON

In no means do I mean to discredit anyone who created TinyTAN or worked on it. In this piece of fiction, OC is a 'ghost' creator and remains anonymous, so all original creators in ACTUAL real life are still there to be credited. This is a piece of FICTION.

thank you for reading, I hope you’ve enjoyed this piece! 

feedback is always greatly appreciated & helps artists immensely. we also all love messages & the audience’s input, opinions, and ideas.

leave me some here! <3

~

vegas series tags <3

@damn-u-min-yoongi @my-dark-happy-place @ahewlett

[mandelene]

Idk if you're still doing drabbles since the post was from yesterday (came across it too late 😅) so feel free to ignore this. But in case you are, how about this: very hot summer day. Madeline's exhausted because of the heat (low blood pressure I guess), Amelia's full of energy and hyperactive. You go where you want from here. Thank you! 💕

This drabble prompt has been sitting in my inbox forever and I’m so sorry! On the bright side, I wrote a lot for it. 

You guys are trying to hurt poor Maddie again. Heartless fiends! Your wish is my command though, so here you go, lol. 

Too Cool for You

Word Count: 1154

"Tag, you're it!"

"Amelia, I'm tired. It's too hot."

"Oh, don't be such a baby!"

Madeline isn't sure how Amelia has the energy to be hurtling up and down the driveway like this. She feels like she's melting. The heat has started seeping into her muscles and bones. The air is thick and humid, and her scalp is burning because she forgot to put a baseball cap on. She doesn't remember the last time it was this sweltering in June.

"I'm not! It's just...It's..." Even keeping a train of thought at this point is proving to be difficult.

Amelia finally stops running around like a madwoman and tilts her head to the side in confusion. "Maddie? You don't look so good."

"Just...Just too hot," she sighs. She hears a car coming up the block and sluggishly turns around to look who it is.

It's only Dad -- he's back from work.

"So do you wanna keep playing or not? 'Cause if not, I'm gonna go ask Ivan if he can--"

The world suddenly becomes fuzzy. Black clouds dance across Madeline's eyes. She tries to reach out a hand to grab something, but Amelia is standing too far away. There's nothing else around her but grass and concrete. Everything seems to slip away for a moment, and time stills.

The car gets closer and stops in front of the driveway. Her breathing quickens. Panic races through her veins. She hears Dad say her name but doesn't see him. Amelia screams.

Her legs give out, and her knees slam into the burning cement. Her upper body starts to pitch forward, but she lands in someone's arms. Oddly enough, she doesn't feel any pain.

"Maddie!"

Madeline groans. Her forehead, neck, and back all feel sticky and clammy. When she opens her eyes, everything is surprisingly clear again. She's slumped against Dad's chest like a ragdoll, and he looks down at her with a very serious expression on his face. And because she's scared and doesn't know what's going on, she feels tears roll down her cheeks.

"We'll bring you inside in a moment, love. You're probably overheated. You girls shouldn't have been playing in the sun," he says, carefully sitting her up. "And don't cry, darling. Don't cry. It's all right."

Her knees sting, and when she looks down at them, she sees speckles of blood oozing out from two sizeable scrapes. She hates the sight of blood -- it makes her want to throw up.

"Shhh, shh, don't worry. We'll fix it."

The front door to the house creaks open, and Papa appears in his kitchen apron and slippers. He says mutters something colorful in French and hurries toward them, slippers slapping loudly down the driveway. "Poor, Madeline. I can't let them out for even an hour, Arthur. I told them to stay in the shade."

"It's all right. This heat is enough to make anyone ill. "

Dad grips her waist and arm tightly and, with added support from Papa, she's able to stand. They carefully walk her into the house and over to the living room couch -- and oh god, does it feel amazing to be in the air-conditioning again.

Amelia bounces in and out of her vision, pacing around the couch and asking things like, "Are you taking her to the hospital? Is she having a heart attack? Is she gonna die? Can I have her iPad Pro?"

"Stop it. It's going to be fine," Dad says as he's stacking pillows under Madeline's feet and legs. "Francis, could you bring a glass of juice -- doesn't matter which kind...And ice."

"Ouai, of course."

"How are you feeling, Madeline? Any better?" Dad asks, crouching beside her. "Still too hot?"

"My head hurts."

"Sit tight. I'm going to bring my bag from the car. Amelia, watch your sister for a second, please."

"Okay," Amelia says, but as soon as Dad crosses the threshold, she yells, "It's been more than a second!"

"Don't test my patience!" he barks back, not even turning around.

Amelia sighs, sits cross-legged beside the couch, and murmurs, "What do you think he's gonna do to you? Give you a shot? Call an ambulance? Put stitches in your knees? Don't worry, I won't let him."

This is not the least bit reassuring.

Papa returns with a tall glass of cold apple juice and an icepack just as Dad appears with his backpack of torture tools.

"Thanks," Dad says, taking the ice from Papa and placing it on Madeline's forehead. He also passes the glass of juice to Madeline and has her take a few sips.

Then, he unzips his bag and pulls out a blood pressure cuff along with his stethoscope. The entire time, Amelia watches on intently, not wanting to miss any of the action.

He wraps the cuff around Madeline's left upper arm and shoots her a little smile. "Just going to make sure it's nothing more serious, all right?"

Madeline nods, watches Dad put his stethoscope on and holds still when she feels the diaphragm against the crook of her arm. This isn't the first time he's checked her blood pressure. She's prone to bouts of weakness in the morning before breakfast.

"87 over 60 -- a bit low," Dad says before pressing two fingers against her wrist. "Pulse is fine."

He then rests the back of his hand against her cheek. "No fever. How do you feel now?"

"Better," she sighs. Her head doesn't hurt as much as it did a few minutes ago.

"That's good. Rest here for a while. All that's left to do is to bandage those cuts on your knees."

From her front-row spot, Amelia frowns. "What? That's it? Aww, man."

Dad raises a brow and laughs. "What do you mean 'that's it?' What did you expect?"

"I dunno, I thought you were gonna do something gross or cool," Amelia says, very obviously disappointed.

Papa also laughs and shakes his head at her. "There are popsicles in the freezer if you're looking for something more exciting. Bring one for your sister as well."

"Yay!"

"I want grape," Madeline adds.

"Okay!"

Dad, meanwhile, pets her arm soothingly and says, "Don't pay her any mind, poppet...Amelia, did you put that cream on your foot rash today as I asked you to?"

Already halfway to the kitchen, Amelia shouts back, "No!"

"Of course not, I suppose that's not cool enough to bother with either," Dad grumbles, rolling his eyes. "Would you prefer an anti-fungal injection in your foot instead?"

"NOOOOO!"

"Stop scaring her," Papa chides.

"Fear is a very good motivator."

"Arthur."

"Not all children respond to kindness, compassion, and reason like Madeline does, Francis."

That gets a small giggle out of Maddie, and she can't help but feel miles better when Papa momentarily lifts the icepack on her head to give her a kiss.

She doesn't mind being the center of attention for a while.

[marvel-obsessed-mind]

The Little Thief

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader. It’s pretty platonic, but you can interpret it how ever you like.

Word Count: 1,345

Warnings: Language.

Summary: Someone decides to take your car for a joyride. and it turns out you know the little thief.

Requested: Um... Yes? I dunno, @turtlepowersactivated reblogged this prompt list talking about number 10 and thought I’d write it for them anyway?

A/N: Guys, I think I’m ill. I’m posting anouither fic withing like 30 hours of posting part 2 of New rules. Never done that before. Lol, enjoy this piece of work. I’m gonna go work on some requests now. I’m finally gettin’ to it!

After waiting for Peter to get back from whatever it was he needed to do for an hour, you get up and collect your books, making you way out of the library and to your car. Quickly making your way to your car, ready to relax at your place, you don’t notice anything amiss until you get to the spot you parked.

Where. The fUCK. Is my car. You look around, livid over the fact that some fucking stole your car when you spot the familiar shape of it a few parking spaces over. Your eyes widen in surprise and you make a mad dash for it. Eyes running over the exterior for anything unusual, happy that you don’t see anything major wrong with it, and you quickly  make your way to the driver’s side and unlock your door. You dive in the second you get the door open to see if anything was stolen and see a note taped to the steering wheel.

Sorry for borrowing your car, I had to use it real quick. There’s no damage, and I promise nothing was stolen – your friendly neighborhood Spider-Man

More like friendly neighborhood jackass.

You take another, closer, look at the note, feeling like there was something familiar about it. After wracking your brain for an answer, you have a ridiculous thought. Is that Peter’s handwriting?

You set your backpack on your lap, opening it up to look for something that had Peter’s handwriting on it, knowing you had something with his handwriting in there. Letting out a shout of triumph, you take out an English paper of Peter’s that you had to go through for grammatical mistakes with him today and compare his handwriting with Spider-Man’s note.

After flipping back and forth between the two, you slowly lift your head and stare out the window; feeling like this was the last puzzle piece as everything clicked into place.

That little shit!  

You shook your head in disbelief as you tried to comprehend the fact that your best friend was Spider-Man. It took you a minute to realize how long Spider-Man had been around, but when you did, you stomach dropped. Oh mY gOD. He became Spider-Man when he was fifteen!

You were going to have a serious talk with your friend, Peter Parker, when you saw him next.

--

A couple hours had passed since you found out Pete was Spider-Man and you spent those two hours thinking about everything Peter had gone through, finally stopping when the jerk decided to call you. After jumping from the sudden noise of your phone ringing, you picked it up, already knowing who it was.

“Hello, Peter. I hope you’re okay. I only waited for an hour and a half for you to at least text me, but it’s fine,” You say, voice layered with sarcasm. Of course, you now know why he had to, but were unable to not give him shit for it.

“Uh, yeah, I’m really sorry about that, Y/N. Something urgent came up. Listen, I was wondering if I could come by your place in like 20 minutes? I thought we could hangout since I had to cut our study session short earlier.”

“Have at it, dude, you know I have nothing else planned. I cannot wait to tell you what happened to me after you left.”  Chuckling, you head to the kitchen to see if there’s anything good to eat in the kitchen.

“Oh, what happened? Are you okay?” Peter demands, thinking that something bad happened to you after you left.

“Pssh, I’m fine! I’ll tell you all the juicy details when you get here.  Bye!”  You hear Peter start to say something, but hang up, smirking, and set your phone down to look through your fridge. After a minute of searching, you grab some food and head to the couch, settling down with a sigh, and turn on the tv to find something you and Peter would want to watch while you wait for him to get to your place.

--

20 minutes later you’ve eaten your food and are dividing your attention between the screen and your phone, when you hear a knock at your door.  You get up and open the door and find Peter lightly hoping from foot to foot with a worried expression.

“Hey, Peter! C’mon in you dork.” You slide to the side and smile at him as he walks in. You’ve barely closed the door when you feel a tug on your shirt. You glance over and raise an eyebrow at Peter, waiting for him to ask you a question.  

“What happened?” He asks, nervously biting his lip. Your heart goes soft at the look he’s giving you and you can’t help but smile tenderly at him. You grab his hand and gently squeeze it before walking to the kitchen once again to get some water for the both of you. The innocence in that question both confused and amused you. Did he not realize you’d be upset, well amused now, about the car? You watched Peter’s expressions from the corner of your eye as you started talking, hoping his reactions would further prove your theory.

“Well, I had just gathered all my books and everything and headed to my car to head home, you know, as you do, but ended up having a heart attack because my car was not in the spot I parked it.” You weren’t disappointed. The second you mentioned your car Peter’s face went pale with panic.

You turn and fill the cups up with water as you continue telling your story.

“But, it’s okay!! After looking around the parking lot in disbelief for a few minutes, I realized my car was only a few parking spaces away from me! Which, thank God. My parents would’ve killed me. Anyway,” You say, turning towards his very fake nonchalant self, handing him his water, “So I get to my car, unlock it, and what do I see? A note from a very famous dude. Spider-Man, in fact. You know him, right?” You smirk, fighting to hold back laughter, as you watch Peter scramble for an answer. You don’t give him time, though, going for the final part that’ll blow his cover.

“You know, there was one thing dear old Spider-Man forgot to check. You see, it’s awesome that he left a note- I’m not sure why he’d take a car when he can swing from his webs- that’s just my opinion- but Spider-Man probably forgets from time to time that people can recognize things that they’ve continuously seen for, oh, I don’t know, a few years?” You stare at Peter with a shit eating grin, “And Peter, I recognized the handwriting. You might wanna look into printing them out? So people don’t recognize the handwriting?”

Peter stands there, eyes wide with shock, as he processes what you just said. It takes him a minute, but he shakes it off, already admitting defeat.

“You caught me. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you I was Spider-Man, but I wanted-”

You stop the start of what you know would be a rambling mess by putting your cup on the counter and placing your hands on his shoulders, “Peter, it’s fine! I’m not mad. Well, I mean I was a bit miffed you didn’t tell me at first, but I’ve thought about it the entire two hours of knowing, and have come to realize you probably did it to protect me. Which is sweet as hell by the way.” Smiling softly at Peter, watching him slightly nod his head, showing that he understood, you wait until Peter’s body had lost some of the tension before dropping your hands.

“You want to go sit on the couch and see what’s on tv?” You ask, already knowing the answer. Peter nods and takes a sip of water, following you to the living room.

After about 30 minutes of watching some tv show you hear Peter ask:

“So…. Where do you think I could get notes like that printed?”

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