#kids braces in downtown

[academydentalyycalgary]

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[muzzlemouths]

Day 1 — "Best friend"

"Alright, I've got one. How do you make a tissue dance?"

You stifle a snort, smiling ahead of the punchline. "How?"

"You put a little boogie in it!" Sun slaps his knee with a metallic clang that echoes, shoulders bouncing with laughter that mirrors your own. "Get it?"

"Very funny," you answer. "Did you hear about the guy who stole all that soap?"

The kiddie chair groans under his weight as Sun leans closer, his laughter momentarily forgotten. Suddenly he's very, very serious. "I haven't heard a thing," his rays dance a little, shrinking inward. "Did they catch him?"

Humming, your hand digs idly into the tub of pony beads sitting between you, dragging the answer out as long as you can. A theatrically deep sigh escapes you. "I'm afraid not," you tell him. "They say he made a clean getaway."

A smirk slowly creeps onto your face as he twitches in your peripheral vision. The wall clock ticks once. Twice.

"Oh, you sneaky little—" He breaks for laughter, wheezing with an automated grind of rusty levers deep within his chassis that sounds more akin to a deflating balloon. "The set up, the punch line, the drama," his palm lands with a humored thump against the table, bouncing the beads in their tub. "That was a good one. You're going to beat me at my own game, at this rate!"

"Oh, hardly." Your hand swims through the rainbow sea of beads in search of a specific shade of blue. "I'm just repeating what I remember out of my jokes book."

Sun threads a letter bead onto the elastic cord pinched between his thumb and forefinger. "A whole book full of jokes?" His faceplate spins with excitement. "Oh, pinch me! What a thrill!"

"Yeah, it was pretty cool, I guess. The library billed me for its hospital stay, though."

"Hospital—huh?"

"Well I had it so long, I broke the spine," you curb your laughter behind a façade of seriousness, not allowing him enough time to process the first punch line before decking him with the second. "I tried getting an appointment with a good doctor, but they were all booked!"

Sun is doubled over before the last of it is even out of your mouth, having evidently picked up on where the joke was headed, already, and still it has him entirely consumed by glee. He's going to break the kid's table between you if he slams his fist into it any harder.

Having successfully located the correct shade of blue, you slide the last bead to sit beside the rest and finally tie the cord off with a knot, neat and tidy. It's nothing special as far as kandi bracelets go, but you're proud of the effort behind it, regardless. After all, you weren't prepared to do any crafting today in the first place. Sun had asked you to help him sort the new shipment of beads before you went home for the night — one thing led to another and, well, here you are.

"All finished!" Sun quells his laughter enough that he can tie off his own bracelet; a parade of pastels in every color with the letter's "BFF" at the center. It hangs on a single finger, dwarfed by his massive hand, as he offers it to you with a big, cheesy grin. "Well? What d'ya think?"

The bracelet slips over your palm and comes to a rest just below the joint like a slipper made to fit. "BFF?"

"Best friends forever!"

"I love it," you tell him, feeling warmed by the notion. "Want to see mine?"

Too impatient to wait for an answer, you hand over your second bracelet of the night — a string of midnight blue with chunky yellow stars in between — and watch as his eyes light up and his voicebox crackles with a certain gravel that isn't quite his.

"Pretty," he says. Too short of a remark to have come from Sun. He slides it along his own wrist to sit above the yellow bracelet already there.

"Well, I should get home." The miniscule chair topples backwards as you stand, hands bracing against the table. "Sorry I couldn't stay longer tonight. There's a concert opening downtown and I want to get back before the traffic gets too bad."

Sun follows your lead and awkwardly squirms his way out of the kid's chair. "You could always stay the night," he says. The giggle in his voice is the only way to know for sure that he's joking. "Let me walk you out, at least."

These moments are your favorite. When the world is quiet, and you can enjoy each other's company without worrying about what tomorrow brings. It makes every goodbye feel like it will last forever. Who would have known that a friend could ever feel so much like home.

Sun opens the door for you, but stands in its path, shifting the weight between his feet with a metallic ring of his bells and a doting expression like he has a thousand things he wishes to say to you. Ultimately, he settles for something simple, yet no less fond.

"See you in the morning."

[aesthetic-bbyg]

SMOOTH OPERATOR- TOM K.

Tom Kaulitz x chola!reader

in which you and a group of friends walk into a convince store in LA only for you to end up crushing on the German boy buying beer and candy.

Nattie speaks: I came up with this while listening to music hehehehe. I was also torn between braids or dreads but ultimately I chose braids🤞

TOM SHUFFLED ACROSS the aisle of the gas station, eyes wandering across the variety of candy and occasionally glancing down at the crumpled up paper in his hand, scribbles of what everyone wanted hardly readable. He wasn’t familiar of the area, only being in LA for a few days for the tour but he was still sent off to find all the necessity’s to survive in the hotel a little longer. His black glasses were shoved up onto his hat, braids swinging down his back with each step while also pulling his baggy pants up. His hands were full of chips, candy, cookies, now his vision was directed towards the back freezers were the beer was stored.

Off in the distance he could hear a faint buzz, a booming sound of music being heard from a mile away and it only got closer. The lyrics of a Tupac song echoed into the store, a mixture of boys and girls stumbling in loudly. The one holding stereo grinned innocently, lowering down the music as the clerk behind the counter glared at him. Two girls trailed in after, you and your best friend, Alejandra, pinkies interlocked as you whispered about some teen pregnancy that happened downtown.

“Hurry up, or I ain’t getting you nothin’.” Your brother, Manuel, demanded, heading towards the food. His hair was slicked back, far too much gel layed on his dark locks to stick it in place.

The two of you headed down to the back, immediately searching for the cold drinks, you sharp eyes looked around the glass doors of different beverages. You gasped suddenly, wrapping your fingers around the metal handle of the door and pulling it open. A fresh breeze blew onto your body, contrasting against the hot sun that beamed brightly just outside. “Damn, Jandra!” Your friend jogged by you with curious eyes. “They released a sandía version of the Arizona Teas!” A big grin filled your face, grabbing the red tin can.

“Shiit.” Alejandra smiled, “Alright, you get the sandía and I get the mango, just so we got options.” You nodded, closing the door as someone walked behind you. You looked over your shoulder instinctively, catching sight of a tall boy, adorned in baggy clothing, a bandana wrapped along his hairline and long cornrows.

Tom had also taken notice of you the moment you stepped into the store, he turned to catch a better look but was met with your own eyes. For a moment, time slowed, both of gazed kept on each other, waiting for the other to look away. In the end, his eyes were lost behind a shelf, but you could see the way his lips quirked up into a smirk before he walked into the chip aisle.

You nudged Alejandra, removing her attention from the kids juice box section. You subtly nodded over to the boy who stood a few feet away, grabbing a bag of salty snacks. “He’s cute.” You whispered, Alejandra nodded in agreement smiling over at you knowingly. “Should ask I for his number?”

“Do it.” The girl giggled, revealing her pearly teeth that were caged behind a pair of braces. But, before you could walk over he began to make his way to the front, breezing past your brother and his group of friends who were going ham on the condiments. You huffed, walking by your brother to get a better look at him but still keeping it nonchalant. Your hands were inching towards a bag of Hot Cheetos, you brother loudly chewed on his hotdog, you stared over at him with a disgusted face. Alejandra opened up a bag of hot Cheetos, filling it up with cheese from the nacho section. You joined her, doing the same till your ear picked up a brewing commotion.

“In the United States you need to be 21 to buy beer.” The old clerk lectured, angrily glaring at the boy in front of him, a ID slipped on the counter that showed all of the mysterious cute boys information.

“But I am 19,” He pointed at the date of birth stated on the card, “that’s legal everywhere else, just let me have them.” The boy argued back, a thick accent in the back of his throat while he flailed his arms angrily.

“But we’re not anywhere else, we’re in the United States, it’s the law, kid.” The braid-haired boy groaned, taking back his ID and leaving behind the pack of beers, cursing under his breath in german. At that point the commotion had caught the attention of all the group. You stared as he stomped out the store, bag full of other snacks in his hands. Your brother and his friends snickered amongst eachother, you shoved his shoulder with a stern look.

“Yo, do him a solid and get them.” You muttered, your brother stared down at you, expression laid back and careless like usual, but he raised a brow.

“You gon’ pay for it o que?” (Or what) He questioned, “Cuz, I’m already payin’ for whatever you and Jandra got there, I ain’t spending my money on nothin’ more.”

You rolled your eyes, stuffing your hands into your pocket and pulling out the last bit of cash you had on you, placing it in his open palm. He smirked smugly, walking to get a pack before making his way upfront, the things got paid for, the cashier asking the same questions of did you find everything okay? as always, though his miserable tone was pitiful. As soon as you and the group stepped out the store, your brothers friend cranked up the volume on the stereo again, the song blasting from the speaker. From a distance you could see the same boy, leaned up against the ice machine, his snacks still in hand while the other held a cigarette between his fingers. His dark glasses protecting his eyes from the lowering sun.

Alejandra smiled at you, passing the pack of cold beers before cheering you on silently. You looked back at her before jogging over to the tall boy. “Yo, got these for you.” For a moment he just stared at you confusingly, cigarette burning down as the seconds ticked by. “I saw what happened in there, but don’t worry, we always got each others backs here in LA.”

You’d begun to think that maybe he didn’t understand you, he did have a thick, foreign accent while speaking earlier which made you assume that he may have a limited English vocabulary. You weren’t sure, but it made you nervous and awkwardly shuffle from side to side. But finally, he dropped the cigarette, crushing it under his shoes and lifting his sunglasses from his enchanting irises. He grabbed the pack, a smirk on forming on his pierced lips. “Thank you, beautiful, what’s your name?”

You liked his confidence, the nickname immediately making your smile and lean your head to the side flirtatiously. “Y/n, and you?”

“Tom.” He replied swiftly, eyes examining your body. The tight white tank top that hugged your skin, the baggy Dickies that belong to your brother hung low on your waist being kept up by a black belt, your ears gleaming with large silver hoops. You had a few tattoos scattered across the exposed skin he could see, your eyebrows were thinly drawn on, lips lined with a dark shade of brown. He liked you, adored your style. “You’re gorgeous.”

“Thanks.” You bit your lip, looking up at him through your lashes. “You fine as hell too, that’s why I wanted to ask for your number.”

“Yeah?” Tom lowly questioned, his shit-eating smirk only getting bigger. “Well you’ve got it, gorgeous.” He set down the beers, reaching for his phone in his deep pockets. You exchanged numbers, conversing a little longer, pulling all the flirty comments you could think of. You got him to chuckle a few times before he revealed that he was in town with his band.

“I like your glasses.” You hands reached forward, grabbing them from his head and placing them on your face. “Damn, these nice as fuck.”

He chuckled softly, staring at you. “Keep them.” You looked over at him, lowering the glasses to make sure that he meant it and wasn’t playing with you. “Gives me a reason to see your pretty face again.”

“Damn.” You stared at him happily before a loud horn blasted from behind you, you rolled your eyes, glancing back to see your brother looking back at you from red the low-rider car seat. “I gotta go, but call me guapo.” You smirked, waving your hand before walking towards the car. Alejandra smirked as she saw your happy express when you hopped in the open-roofed car. Tom eyes never left you as the car pulled away from the gas station and sped down the road, the whole vehicle vibrating as a rap song shrieked out the speakers.

“Who was that vato you were talkin’ to?” Manuel questioned, looking back at you from the rear-view mirror with a raised brow.

“None of ya’ business, mitotero.” You rolled your eyes and crossed your arms, head turning to stare out into the road, the harsh wind whipping through your hair. Alejandra smirked, leaning in closer to your ear.

“So, did you get it?” Your friend watched as your lips twitched, teeth coming out to bite back the grin that threatened to show. She giggled, shaking your body lightly. “Ohh, girl, you got that look of looove.”

“He fine as hell but love is a little much.” You replied, looking over at her with a mischievous smile. “He gave him his glasses, though.” You pull them from your head and passed them to her as she gawked at them.

“A la madre, this is some of that nice shit.” She examined it closely, staring at the Ray-ban logo printed on the side. Just then you felt a buzz on your thigh, you looked down at the phone as it lit up with a notification, an unknown number texted you. Immediately you opened it and smiled, Tom had texted you, a flirty greeting topped with a winky face. “I assume it your man textin’?”

“Cállate.” You turn your phone off, stuffing it in the side pocket of your pants. The text was only the first of many, Tom taking more interest in you the longer you talked, it wasn’t long till he’d taken you to his hotel room.

“Shit, fool.” You mumbled, tightening the belt around your waist as Tom chuckled, being the only audience member of your fashion show, aka you trying on his stupidly baggy clothes. “How so you wear this stuff everyday.”

He shrugged, throwing his hands up slightly. “I am a big man, I need big clothes.”

“No shit.” You scoffed, turning towards the mirror and staring at the huge shirt that looked more like a dress. “Should I wear this to the carne asada?”

“I think you should wear nothing, you’re sexier that way.” The Kaulitz boy smirked, doing that thing where he fiddled with the black piercing on his lip. You rolled your eyes and walked back into the closet, ignoring his comments as you dug through more of his clothes. In a few hours you and Tom would have to arrive at your tíos carne asada, Tom being requested to join by non other then your mother.

Tom was already dressed and splayed out on the seat, just watching as you struggled to find something, which why you ended digging through his clothes. It took an half hour before you came out satisfied, grinning widely as you put on your silver hoops.

The real problem came the moment you stepped in the backyard, your tíos home full of guest that you knew and some you didn’t. Either way a handful of them came up to with same comments how old you looked and how big you’ve gotten. Manuel came up with his little gang that constantly followed him around, it took him the longest to get sue to Tom. Though, it wasn’t long before your brother and Tom became friends.

“Wassup, ese.” Manuel he held a corona beer in his hand, using his free one to grab clap against Tom’s and bring him in for a swift chest bump. Then you ran into your mother, her expression going from a stern glare to a huge smile. Everything had went smooth so far, you were happy to be there, until a familiar voice squealed from behind you.

“Tomas! Mi Niño, mira que guapo té vez!” Your mother chanted, bringing him into a tight hug and planting her calloused hands on his cheek, he smiled shyly at her affection. The boy had grown to be a favorite, his charisma and cute looks making him popular with the tías.

“Mama, he just got here from Germany a couple days ago, está cansado, we just gonna sit and chill.” You attempted to reason with the woman, staring at your boyfriend apologetically. But you’d only made the situation worse, she gasped dramatically, looking back at the boy and ushering him to a table. She’s explained everything to all of the tías, which lead to him being taken care of for most of the night. He was constantly being checked up on, being handed plates of food, being talked to about the latest scandal of the neighborhood, it left you sitting with Alejandra, on the other side of the backyard.

“Que tienes, amiga?” The dark haired girl questioned, staring at your frowning face and squinted eyes. She could practically feel the heat of annoyance radiating of you.

“They took my fucking man!”

heheheheh, this just a short little thang I decided to write bc why not,🤷‍♀️y’all already know that Tom would have the aunties in a CHOKEHOLD!! I also had to rewrite the last half of this bc I forgot to save it so sorry if any parts of it seem rushed or short!

[tinytennisskirt]

A Chaotic Reunion: Part One

Pt 1 Summary: You and Art were childhood best friends who grew apart. It's been about five years since you saw him in the flesh, but you run into each other at the club and make plans to catch up. It's good to rekindle, but maybe this time around things are starting to feel different.

Warnings: mentions of drinking

You and Art had been best friends as kids. Every moment from 4-12 was spent playing together. Sometimes girl things, sometimes boy things. Most times shared things, like pirates or thieves or creek monsters. You’d roll around the neighbourhood together every day, swinging from tire swings and buying corner store popsicles and a kiss on the cheek every now and then. At 4 you’d promised to get married. And it was pure and simple and so much fun.

You were at his house every day that he wasn't with you at yours. But after Art left for school, the correspondence was a lot harder. And as you both grew, you grew even further apart. Your best friend and next door neighbourhood was becoming someone new. And you were too, but differently. You had braces for a while that were the wrong colour, you cut your hair badly a few times.

Art came home sometimes for Christmas but all you’d get was a hi on the sidewalk if you managed to catch him. It was just different. And then he stopped coming back altogether around fifteen- and at eighteen you moved across the country for school. So you wouldn’t even get a glimpse on the driveway anyways.

You were content and doing what you love. Then came nineteen, then twenty, then twenty one. You’d settled in your looks, finally feeling a bit normal. You had an apartment with your best friends in a cool area, you had a good job, and you were finally of legal drinking age.

You and your roommates decided one night to get cute and hit the club downtown instead. So you went, cute outfit, cute hair, eye makeup perfect and on point. Talking about work ceased, conversations about possible tattoos and past flings ensued. You and your roommates had a great night drinking and dancing. You all hit the dance floor, pushing touchy men away from each other and enjoying the music, the lights. You and one of your roommates were spinning, dancing around each other and you took a misstep and spun right into someone.

His chest was hard, but his hands were surprisingly soft as his they gently gripped your upper arms to steady you. “I’m so sorry,” you said, backing up and recalibrating. It was loud, the bass of the music thumping through your feet and purple, pink, and blue lights. You brushed your hair out of your face and looked up to a face that you knew. An older version of a face you knew.

You recognized him, just barely. Cheekbones carved out, jawline sharp, nose perfect, blonde hair a mess, eyes still sleepy, but just about as wide as yours. His hands stayed on your upper arms. “Y/N?”

“Art, oh my god!” You laughed. He grinned and immediately it was like you two weren’t without talking for years. He wrapped his arms around you and the chest you bumped into, you were now pressed against. You backed up, staying close. “How are you?!” You asked over the music. He couldn’t hear you, he leaned closer to your mouth to hear. “How are you?” You asked again.

He smiled, face inches from yours so you could hear. “I’m good! I’m okay, how are you?”

Your focus shifted- He was much taller, his hair was much longer, and he was… gorgeous, quite frankly. You blinked hard, “I’m doing okay, I’m just here with my roommates what are you doing here?”

“I’m in town for tennis,” he replied. “You live here?”

“I do!” You answered.

“That’s amazing, what have you been up to?” You two were about to catch up in the middle of the dance floor. You wondered who he was here with. He followed your wandering eyes- “We should probably go off to the side-“

You chuckled, “For sure!” And walked a bit ahead of him to the not-much-quieter bar section. His hand grazed your waist once or twice as you both pushed through the crowd. You hated that you noticed it.

You sat yourself at one of the smaller booths. You didn’t need another drink. “I can’t believe you’re here.”

He shook his head, smiling at you without end, “Me neither, I-“ he shook his head. “It’s been years, you look… different.”

“Is it the boobs?” You tease, looking down. You look back up to see his eyes trained down, then immediately snapping back to meet your own. You smile knowingly.

“No, uh-“ he noticed, rubbed his neck sheepishly. “You’re older, your hair is less… light and you look- you look really pretty.”

“So do you,” you replied immediately. It wasn't like you didn't mean it- he was pretty. The image of him as your childhood best friend was no longer forefront. He was pretty- he was quite gorgeous. He smiled a crooked grin, something that was cute on a kid, but now it was just… hot. The way his cheek creased to one side of his smile. You leaned forward, elbows on the table. He looked surprised to hear you say it.

“I-uh-“ he looked down, long eyelashes of his fluttering a bit. The word 'pretty' bounced around your head looking at him. Maybe it was the lighting. Maybe it was the three drinks you’d had. “Thank you,“ His eyes met yours again. He looked like he was trying not to smile so big. “So what have you been up to?”

He was cute, changing the topic. You were allowed to think so, “I went to school for art history, gallery organization. I have a job in that now- I’m a gallerist. And that takes up a lot of my weekdays, but I have a lot of time to myself in the evenings and I own my gallery, so I don’t even have to go into work if I don’t want, it’s pretty flexible. I work with my roommates, which is also perfect. And we have similar hours so we spend a lot of time together but they’re my best friends.”

“Wow, that’s- amazing. I had no idea you were so successful, that’s crazy.” He looked almost shy for a 21 year old. Like there was anything to be shy about. “Is the gallery local?"

You smiled and nodded, "Not far from here at all."

"I'd love to visit, could I come by? Is that a stretch?”

“Not at all, we’re open until 9pm tomorrow so you can come in at anytime. I’ll be there.” You offered. You were flattered. “I’d love that. What have you been up to?”

“Just tennis, mostly. I'm here with a friend actually, he plays too. It's all just Stanford and tournaments. I wish I had a success story that fulfilling I’m still-“

“Are you kidding?” You interrupted. “Sorry I’m interrupting but I’ve followed your tennis career and you’re amazing. You’re really good.”

You wondered if he looked away because of a flush to his face. You swore you could make one out. “Thank you. I meant more like a settle-down type of success but tennis means travel and it’s a bit hard to settle when you’re constantly moving.”

“Oh, I see. That makes sense. I’m still amazed, though. I watched your most recent match on YouTube, you were going crazy. I’m not surprised you’re getting all these deals and sponsorships, you are amazing at what you do. Not many people can say that.”

“I’m no gallerist,” he grinned that crooked grin again, his face lit pink by the club lights.

You rolled your eyes with a grin, “Okay…”

"I'm just saying..." he teased. "Tennis is great but selling art to pretentious rich people who probably don't understand the real value of an art piece takes a lot more skill."

"Oh, you wouldn't imagine the assholes we deal with sometimes," You chimed. "You're very right, it takes a lot of patience."

He nodded with that gorgeous grin that stayed on his face. "You remember the art my parents used to have?"

"Oh the weird twisty 3D tree art?" You laughed. He chuckled too and rubbed his eyes. "I remember scraping my arm on it running past."

"The worst," He grimaced at the thought. "They were pretentious art-buyers who didn't care what they were purchasing. Nothing matched, they just liked having it. I'm pretty sure they told fake stories about it too."

You grimaced at that point, "I think I remember hearing one of those at your mom's barbeques. Not sure how I remember, but I think I do. It was about the lemon lady in the bathroom and how-"

"It was haunted," He finished your sentence. You both laughed. "She would tell it in front of me like it didn't scare me to go near that painting for the next ten years. I would always go to the upstairs bathroom no matter what." You both kept laughing, it was silly to remember such simple things. Easy. "Naming me Art wasn't enough?"

He was still sweet. "I guess not." And there was a moment of silence, even in the loudness of the club. His eyes stayed trained on yours, you wondered if he was taking in all the changes, discarding the mental image of who you'd used to be the way you had been discarding the mental image of how you used to see him. Tennis videos of him reminded you, but the image never stuck until now. He was here, sitting opposite of you, eyes still locked. God, he was so gorgeous it almost hurt to look at him.

You both noticed the staring and the 'silence' simultaneously, it seemed. He snapped out of it, and so did you.

“It’s good to know you’re doing well.” He said. “Wrong to say I've missed you?"

“You could have called,” you replied, poking the back of his hand as it rested on the table.

“So could you,”

“I didn’t know you missed me.” You said, shrugging. He nodded like it was fair with a small smile pulling at his lips. You fought the same smile. “But I’ve been proud of you from afar.”

He covered his face, peeking through his fingers before speaking, “I wish I could say the same, but from now on, I promise I am.” You grinned. “I'd love to catch up more while I'm here- Could I come by your gallery? Maybe around 10? When do you open?”

“Eleven,” you smiled. “Rich people who buy art are people who sleep in. But ten is perfect. You’re going to think I’m crazy, but yes I keep these on me when I’m at the club.” You reached into your bag and pulled out a business card with the address. He took it no hesitation and put it in his pocket immediately.

Your arm was tapped by one of your girlfriends, Shailene. “Hey, Y/N, Julie had one too many shots and I'm taking her home, are you coming?" She asked.

“Oh no- yes.” You closed your bag and sat up a little straighter. This booth had become your own little corner of the world.

“I’m sorry for interrupting- ooh, he’s cute.” Art could hear her. She was a great deal louder than you were willing to be and a few more drinks in than you.

“I- yeah,” you nodded. You turned to Art, “I’m so sorry, I have to go, but I’ll see you tomorrow! It was so good seeing you! I can’t believe you’re here.”

“No, you’re good,” he chuckled. “It was good to see you too, really. I’ll see you tomorrow. 10am,” he grinned his crooked grin. You squeezed his hand as you got up and followed your roommate out.

“Who was that?” She asked as you waved a cab.

“An old friend of mine,” you replied. “My old next door neighbour.”

“He’s gorgeous, girl. Looked familiar though... I hope you’re seeing him again, I didn't mean to drag you away."

You chuckled, “I am, I am. And don't worry about it." And as the taxi pulled up and you three piled into the taxi together, you were thinking about him. His grin, how he'd grown into his features, his hair, his eyes, his grin. He had a gorgeous grin. You yourself found yourself smiling at the thought. And you'd see him tomorrow.

(Part Two Here)

[matashaw]

Klaus von Klinkerhoffen

≫i used to hate Klaus so much but ive started to love his character a lot actually Klaus headcanons requested by @mimpinightmare !! I hope this gets you in a good mood!!!!

general headcanons:

demi boy, asexual, gay, he/him pronouns

german!!!

the sweetest boy you’ll ever encounter

candies are his comfort food, especially the red ones with sour candy on top

has the prettiest blonde ever, sometimes paparazzi ask him what he does to keep his hair so golden (he just laughs, says that his aunts hair remedies are very good and goes on a rant about how her aunt is the best)

HAS FRECKLES

adores farm animals, animals in general

HUGE green flag

autism and social anxiety

childhood headcanons

grow up in a farm, with the help of his cousins they built a small football field

got injured ALL THE TIME

very sensitive kid, he wasnt born to live in the countryside

wore braces at some point

used to have a beautiful, long hair. Sadly, his parents made him chop it off

got made fun of a lot, crying in his room was a part of his daily routine

when he was bored he did some type of hairstyle, absolutely loved pigtails!

collected bottle caps, still does it

once almost drowned in a lake, developed a fear to swimming since that and didnt grow out of it until he joined the team (North helped him a lot with it)

how I think he’d dress

he gives me a lot of cottage vibes, but also a downtown brownish vibe too! I think he’d love scarfs and handmade sweaters. Such as

anything that reminds him of his grandma really

music taste

likes all kinds of music, doesnt really pay attention to the lyrics

some examples of his music taste are

Walk like an Egyptian (The Bangles), Honey, Honey (ABBA) cannonball (The Breeders) Blitzkrieg Bop (Ramones)

well, first request completed! I’m sorry if I take a long time to make your request, but I’m so excited to see people requesting!! Thanks a lot

[i520u]

star-crossed ✩°｡ ⋆⸜

twenty. different

warnings: mentions of domestic abuse, substance abuse, also it’s a little suggestive if you squint

You spent almost the entirety of the day with Ricky. You’ve visited the downtown, and even spent a couple of hours at the funfair that was in Santa Monica Pier. He wasn’t quite ready to send you back home, which is why the two of you were spending the rest of the night by the beach. You found comfort in the sound of the waves and the wind gently blowing as the two of you enjoyed each other’s companies.

You looked into the distance as you and Ricky talked about things that didn’t seem to matter, but you knew you would remember every little detail for years to come. Little details like how he used to wear braces as a kid, his birthday being on National Strawberry-Picking Day, and things like how many juice boxes he had drank today.

“Are you cold?” He asked, eyeing you. You shook your head, your gaze still remained on the beach waves. It wasn’t a chilly night, so the winds felt like a friendly welcome. “Is something bothering you? Should I send you home?” He asked again, a hint of worry laced between his words.

This time, you darted your eyes to look at the blonde boy. It hasn’t been long since the two of you had started officially dating — maybe it was around 6 days? A week? You wondered why it took you so long to tell him the truth about your feelings, because looking back, it was quite obvious that he felt the same way as you did. Maybe you were just too oblivious and busy asking yourself whether he liked you or not.

Ricky gently grabbed your face, squeezing your cheeks together to bring you out of your own train of thoughts. “Heeeey. Y/N.” He called out, watching your eyebrows furrowing as he continued playing with your cheeks. “Don’t think about anything other than me when we’re together,” he sulked, a small pout forming on his lips. You let out a giggle at the sight of him, giving him a nod as a response. “Sorry.” You added.

Ricky released your face from his hands, he leaned closer to you with one hand on the surface of the sand as support. Your lips parted as your mind tried arranging your words before speaking it out, although your hard work of battling bilingual issues were ruined as he abruptly leaned closer to you to envelope you into a kiss.

His intention was for the kiss to be a quick one, almost like a peck. He just wanted to tease you a little, buy Ricky had overestimated himself. Maybe it was due to the fact that he had been dreaming of this day for so long that each time he plans on giving you a peck on the lips, his plan always backfires.

What was supposed to be a peck turned into a prolonged kiss, his lips gently moving against yours as you matched his rhythm. You could feel the butterflies in your stomach as your hand slowly slid up from his waist to his chest, tracing the outline of his muscles underneath his black top.

Ricky’s free hand made its way to the side of your cheek, holding you gently, and pulling you closer. You could feel him smiling through the kiss after you leaned against his hand like an instinct. He tilted his head to the side so he could kiss you better, his body leaning forward into you. You wrapped your arms around his neck, your hand running through his hair as the kiss was turning heated.

Ricky pulled away for a second to catch his breath, eyeing you down through his half-lidded eyes. He let out a breathless chuckle before leaning in to kiss you again with the same level of intimacy as before, his hand wandering around your body the more the kiss deepened.

You eventually pulled away, your cheeks flushed and your lips swollen from how sensual the kiss turned out to be. Ricky seemed satisfied with himself, a smile plastered on his face as he stared at you.

“You’re pretty like this.” He complimented suddenly, giving you a wink. It only made you blush harder. YOU looked away almost immediately, breaking off the eye contact with him as you felt flustered. “Maybe you should get distracted more often so I could kiss you like that again.” He continued, followed by a soft giggle as he watched how shy you had become after a few teasing from him.

You pushed your body up to stand up from the sand, and Ricky followed suit. “Do you want to go home?” He asked, and you nodded your head, glancing at the time from your phone’s screen. It was getting super late into the night, and you didn’t want to reach home at the crack of dawn.

As the two of you began walking towards Ricky’s car, he didn’t hesitate to put an arm around your waist, keeping you close to him as you made small talk with him about the day, and what you had in plan for the day after.

The drive from the beach to your house was quite a long one, but it wasn’t a problem for Ricky. He didn’t mind even if he had to drive for hours as long as he’d get to spent the entire ride with you. He had one hand on the steering wheel, and the other was gently holding your hand, his fingers intertwined with yours while you softly drew circles on the back of his hand.

“By the way, Y/N,” Ricky paused, waiting for your response. You hummed, signalling for him to continue. “Did you and Yujin get into a fight? When the two of you bumped into each other at school sometimes, he never looked happy.” He asked, you pressed your lips together upon hearing his question as you didn’t think he would’ve noticed. Was it that obvious?

Yujin had been angry with you ever since you told him to stay away from Gyuvin a few days (or a week? You really couldn’t remember how long it has been since it happened) back. You were aware of their friendship, you knew that Gyuvin genuinely adores Yujin like his own brother, but you just couldn’t risk having Yujin around Gyuvin when he’s in that state. You’re okay with Yujin being angry at you and even hating you, as long as he was safe and sound.

Of course a part of you felt bad that you were generalising everyone who struggles with substance abuse to be just like your father, but you really couldn’t find it in you to be empathetic towards Gyuvin — even if he was (is?) your friend. You just couldn’t risk it.

Your mother struggled getting a divorce with your drunkard father and even moved to the other side of the world where the people are different, the cultures are different, and even the language is different just so her children could live freely without fear. You were not going to let that freedom be jeopardised, even if Gyuvin mattered to you a lot too.

Ricky noticed how silent you’ve become, he wondered if he had asked something that was private to you. “You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.” He reassured. If he could give you a kiss on the head, he would. You shook your head almost immediately, “no, no. Sorry, I just got distracted.” You admitted. You inhaled a deep breath before telling Ricky what had happened between you and your brother. How he had went to hang out with Gyuvin, the weird text that Gyuvin sent you, and how you immediately demanded Yujin to go home. You told him basically everything.

“I know I’m being unfair to Gyuvin, it’s not that I don’t trust him. It’s just that I can’t risk leaving Yujin unsupervised with someone who’s not sober.” You sighed, you bit your lower lip as you started second-guessing your decision. “To make things worse, I told our mom about it, and now she doesn’t allow Yujin to see Gyuvin anymore for the time being. He can’t tutor Yujin anymore either, so that’s why he kinda hates me now.” You finished your explanation as you didn’t want to digress.

Ricky hummed in response as he took in everything you had just told him. He knew Gyuvin better than both you and Yujin, so you trusted that he would give a good input. “You did the right thing. Sober Gyuvin wouldn’t have allowed Yujin to be with him either.” His words felt assuring to you, the guilt had honestly been eating you alive for the past few days. Of course you care about Gyuvin, he’s your first friend when you came here. It’s just that Yujin is your priority.

Ricky flashed you a smile as he gave you a quick glance. “You should appreciate Yujin more. He’s clearly still naive. It’s a beautiful thing that doesn’t last long.” You felt yourself relaxing a little more upon hearing what he had said. Ricky was right, you were so busy worrying about Yujin hating you for restricting him from something, you didn’t realise that these were probably one of the few last times Yujin would ever act rashly due to his naivety. You had forgotten that he was still just a kid at heart.

You returned the smile, leaning closer to Ricky to give him a quick kiss on the cheek. The kiss surprised Ricky, his cheeks immediately turning red. “You’re such a good listener,” you told him, followed by a giggle as you watched him all flustered from your compliment. Ricky had a toothy grin, his smile was wide as he couldn’t help but get a little shy from the cute gesture.

With a soft chuckle, he tried to act casual. “Anything for you.”

When you arrived at your front porch, Ricky didn’t actually want to part ways with you. He wasn’t sure what made him so clingy, maybe he just liked being with you so much. “Well, I’ll see you on Monday at school?” You asked him, and he nodded in response. A slight pout evident on his lips as you began to put your belongings back into your handbag.

“Don’t forget your lipgloss,” he mentioned, reaching for the product that was mysteriously left on his side of the car. He wasn’t sure how it ended up there, but he wasn’t going to question it.

You leaned in to him to kiss him on the cheek again, although it didn’t worked out as well as you wanted to as he turned his head to hand you your lipgloss a second before you could kiss him. It ended up being a quick peck on his lips instead, but Ricky didn’t mind it, bringing you in for one more kiss.

He giggled afterwards, handing you the lip product. He waved at you as you began to leave his car. You leaned down to look at him through the window, “drive home safely!” You mouthed. Ricky nodded at your words, giving you an ‘OK’ sign. “Goodnight Y/N!”

masterlist | previous | next

synopsis ↯ in which you are paired up with ricky shen, who fully convinced himself that you purposely became his partner in order to date him.

𖤐 𖦹 ༘⋆⊹ nara’s note: next chapter is the last one + an epilogue I FEEL SOOOO SAD I LOVE THIS SERIES TOO MUCH

🏷️ ; @shiningstar-byulxx @jiaant11 @justemalove @okkomi @jeonghyeonsgf @blaycke @lvieee @softyminhee @starhyeon @rikislady @raeewe @se0ngmins @i-yeseo @aariiil @daydreamer5006 @ahnneyong @jayujus @girlokarina @aerxz @rikimylove @jisunglogy @pleasantgardendetective @mposkyje @ilovechanhee @livelaughlovelicky @igotkpoops @moonlightjungwon @imthewon @wycure @sunoosluvr @dumb-cxm-slxt @partiallyderived @sparklingsjy @jinkiseason @444yizhuo @wave2love @wtfhyuck

[randomnsme]

Back To You: Part 1

Summary: Caitlin's life changed more than she could imagine in the past 2 years. She went from being the hometown hero to the topic of sports across the country. All the success was great but it cost her a lot in life and especially love. Exes and relationships have never been Caitlin's strong suit.

Caitlin Clark x Reader

Warnings: Angst, smut, fluff, drinking/partying, language

Caitlin's POV

I thought the off season was supposed to be relaxing and give me the chance to breathe for the first time in two years, but instead I'm here getting my hair and makeup done for yet another event. At least this time it wasn't just for the money, I was actually getting my Time Athlete of the Year award and celebrating the. release of the cover. My glassy eyes stare back at me in the mirror as I try to find my thoughts. I've been overthinking more than ever before which only leads to a lack of sleep, which doesn't help the migraines.

"Fuck," I groan, reaching for my coffee. My sip is interrupted as I get a notification my phone.

4:47: Hey, I heard you're in nyc for ur award. wanna meet up?

I smirk and wait a few minutes before texting back

4:53: U know I'm always down babe. when and where?

I know I have a boyfriend, well sorta, but the truth is, I just can't be bothered to pretend in all aspects of my life anymore. Lying is exhausting and pretending to be in a relationship was making it worse. I didn't necessarily tell Connor that I'm into girls, but he and pretty much everyone else in my life already know. I guess we both just pretend that we're not having affairs left and right.

I finish getting dressed and get all my stuff together before the car comes to pick everyone up. My parents flew out for the event since my brothers and friends couldn't make it. It's a weird feeling, being lonely when everyone knows you. I go from the stark contrast of screaming fans to lonely silence in my apartment. Most of my friends are on different time zones, or they're just busy so having people to talk to and hang out with away from work is a lot harder than it was in college.

The ride to the event was relatively quiet. My parents sat on my right side as I lean against the door, looking out the window. I felt a rare moment of peace as we're driven through the streets of downtown Manhattan. As an Iowa kid, I always had a romanticized view of New York and I've never been disappointed. I feel myself snap out of my peaceful gaze as some cameras start to flash as the car slows to a stop. I take a deep breath and brace myself for my least favorite thing in the world (besides cats). Someone opens the car door and I step out at a barrage of cameras as I walk down the red carpet. I force a smile for the cameras as we all walk into the building.

The whole even was filled with the same scripted gimmicks as usual. I probably wouldn't hate making these appearances so much if I were allowed to say the things I actually want to say instead of sticking to some PR script. So much of my life has just turned into a media show and I want out. Since I can't just quit my job or drop out of my life, I've got other ways to escape for a while. My parents decided they were going out for dinner, so I got my own ride back to the hotel. I check my phone and text her back.

9:02: I'm heading back to my hotel now if u wanna come by.

I send her my location and close my eyes for the rest of the ride.

When I get back to my hotel room, I throw my phone on the charger and hop in the shower. Since I've moved to Indiana, I've started taking showers in the dark. They both help my migraines and also just make a better environment to enjoy a nice hot shower. I let the water run through my hair and down my body as it washes off the soap. I turn the water off and step out of the shower. I wrap myself in a towel and turn on one of the smaller lights. I'm not sure how long I've been in here, so I speed up the process just in case. I run through my routine: brush my teeth, dry my hair, moisturize and cut my nails.

I step out the bathroom and check my phone.

9:09: I'll be there in an hour

I like the text and open the mini bar. I sift through the bottles until I find what I'm looking for. Grey Goose Vodka. I pop open the bottle and pour a few shots and down them.

"Damn," I sip my coke and sit on the bed, "that burns more than usual."

I get a towel from the bathroom and set it on the side table along with some things from the suitcase that's always locked. After I set up in room, close the blinds and dim the lights, my phone rings...

[writingphoenix]

Realization

Hero came to in a brightly lit room. Everything hurt and he didn’t know where he was. The last he remembered, he was fighting with his team and was injured. Seriously injured. With a sinking feeling, he realized that he was restrained to the bed he was in and there were tubes attached to him. He could hear a familiar voice talking, just out of range to understand what she was saying. Villain’s lair. 

“Villain, he’s awake,” a voice called. Hero’s stomach sank. He knew what was coming and braced himself for pain. Or at least more of it. He heard footsteps.

“Hey, you pulled through,” Villain said. Her voice carried more compassion than Hero had ever heard.

“Just get it over with and kill me,” Hero spat. He was shocked at how hoarse his voice was. Villain began looking over him, checking his bandages and the tubes.

“Now, why would I do that? I just went through the trouble of nursing you back to health.”

“Torture. Interrogation. Humiliation. Retribution. Plenty of reasons. Just get it over with.”

“I’m not going hurt you or kill you,” Villain said. Hero didn’t believe her. 

Days went by and he got stronger. He was still restrained to the bed but he was otherwise treated like a normal hospital patient. He was confused at the lack of torture. He decided Villain must be playing mind games with him. He hadn’t seen her since the first day. Medic said it was because she had a mission and lots of work to catch up on. Apparently she hadn’t left his side during the few days he was unconscious. He didn’t know what to think about that.

Medic decided he was healthy enough to leave the bed. He was moved to a secure cell. He was shocked to find a TV that played movies and warm clothes and a comfortable bed. He thought back to the cells at Headquarters. They were small, dark, and bare. They had a hard bed and a single blanket. Anything more was too good for a villain. Hero didn’t know what to think about that.

Villain came to visit him in the cell. She helped Medic with his physical therapy as he relearned to walk. Hero thought back to the last villain he had captured. The villain had been left in the cell to deal with his injuries. He had been interrogated and then disposed of. He was a villain, he was evil, he couldn’t be left alive. That’s what Hero had been taught. But he was given medical care and a comfortable room. He was given good food instead of old scraps and leftovers. He didn’t know what to think about that.

He had asked Villain why. Why was he being treated like this? Hero shrugged and had said,

“Because you’re a person too.” He hated being a prisoner but he hated the way being treated like this made him feel. This wasn’t how it was supposed to be. He should have been tortured and killed. Villain was evil, that’s why he fought her. But he was starting to doubt that.

His trainer had taught him to protect the important things. Protect the mayor of the city. Protect the wealthy families that were targets of the villains. Protect the city hall and the mansions and the businesses downtown. Those kept the city going. Hero began to wonder about everyone else. Villain told him about her adventures and she was always mentioning some family in the poor side of town or some kid going home from school. She talked about plots she was planning for the very people Hero had protected, to stop them from doing one bad thing or another. Hero began to hate that he had protected them.

And then Hero came to a realization. Villain wasn’t evil. She did good things, treated everyone with dignity. He began to realize with horror that what he had done, what he had protected, revolted him. He had ignored the poor of the city, he had protected the rich who held them down. He had tortured men and women who were only trying to help and who had died to protect the little people. 

He wasn’t a hero. He was the Villain.

---

[storiesbyjes2g]

3.46 Flames

I didn't bother doing a second class because I had a business matter I wanted to explore. The management team at the rec center would always have my gratitude for allowing me to host my classes, but as I said previously, it wasn't a sustainable solution. It rained too much in the autumn, and soon winter would be upon us. I needed an indoor solution, so I went downtown to Anchorpoint Wharf to see if I could find an unconventional space to rent, since I couldn't afford an entire building yet. If there was a backroom, basement, or attic I could use, or even an unfinished space, I could make it work.

I began my reconnaissance at the library. If it didn't say "library" on the sign, I wouldn't have known it was one when I walked in. The atrium was more like a mini art gallery, displaying works from local artists, I assumed. The rest of the downstairs was more like a community center with a breakroom outfitted with amenities for infants and a kids' play area. Upstairs looked more library-like, but unfortunately, it didn't have any obvious spaces I could rent.

I got hungry, so I found a street cart and had lunch. San Sequoia was definitely no sleepy town with its bold colors surging life into everything. Most of the colors didn't even match, but it worked so well, especially with the bridge towering over the city, tying it all together with its rusty hue. I loved how you could see it literally everywhere you went. San Sequoia had definitely become my favorite place I'd lived.

After lunch, I walked around the area, continuing my search for spaces. I stumbled upon an old movie theater and decided to take a break and see what they had going on. The movie was so boring, I couldn't even tell you what it was about. I was just so mad I wasted good money on that. Luckily, Yasmine called just as it was ending, so I ran out of the theater to answer.

She said she wanted to clarify our conversation from the other day. She liked me a lot and hoped her proposition didn't change how I felt about her. Then she asked me out! It was kind of thrilling to be on the other end of a date. I definitely needed some fun after that movie attempted to suck the life out of me, so I agreed to meet her at the pier in Copperdale.

I went home to shower and put an outfit together. It was only the pier, so I didn't make too much of an effort. Good thing too because it was so cold there. I had on my coat the whole time; I hated wasting good outfits.

I found Yasmine by the photo booth, and her outfit was definitely something to note. I never put much thought into my outerwear before, but the way she put her coat, hat, and jeans together had me second guessing my style choices.

"You look nice," I said.

"Thanks. Wanna take a pic with me?"

Me and Yasmine squeezed together in a tiny booth... I braced myself for whatever she planned to do to me in there because, if there was one thing I knew about her, it was she was bold and always went after what she wanted, and she definitely wanted me. She took full advantage of the lack of space and hugged up on me for our picture. We stepped out and waited for the picture to print, and just as I suspected, we looked like a very happy couple.

"Awww! We are so cute," she shouted. "I'm keeping this one."

I guess she should have a keepsake of our time together because that was the closest she was going to a relationship with me. Don't get me wrong. I enjoyed spending time with her and was totally down for some casual, unattached adult fun. But that's all it could be.

"I hope you're not scared of heights," she said.

Yasmine and Luca trapped in a slow-moving hanging basket... The story wrote itself, and I fully expected her to suck my face off, but she behaved.

"Look," she yelled. "There's my house."

I looked at whatever dark blob of trees she pointed at, but saw nothing resembling a residence. Copperdale looked like a black forest from up high at night. I bet the view was spectacular in the daytime, though.

We got off the ride, and she checked in with me.

"Are you having fun?"

"Yeah, thanks. I didn't ride anything when we were here last, so I'm glad I got the chance."

"Come on!"

She grabbed my hand and pulled me toward our next destination. Her excitement about the rides was just like a child's; it was adorable.

"This is one of my favorite ones."

It had a scary, Spooky Day theme, and I wondered what we were about to get ourselves into, not that I was scared or anything. On the other side of the door was the line. When we finally made it to the ride, it was kind of like a mine cart we sat in. It took us around this haunted house while animatronics and actors in costume jumped out at us, attempting their best scare tactics. It was cute; I guess.

The next ride was similar except it was love themed, and we rode around in a boat. Every time I looked in her direction, she was looking at me with a twinkle in her eye. It seemed they made the ride for moments like that, and with the number of teenagers who frequented it, I probably was one of many who'd experienced their first kiss in there. But I didn't want to make any assumptions, despite knowing what she wanted from me. I scooted closer, letting her know I was into whatever she had in mind. Instead, she playfully smacked me on the shoulder and laughed. I didn't like that one bit.

She was still laughing when we got off the ride, but I was not.

"Come on, I was just kidding, Luca!"

I was a very confident sim, except when it came to romance. A joke like that could sever all shreds of confidence I thought I had. There was no way she could have known that, but still.

She stepped to me within whisper distance, and my entire body felt like it was engulfed in flames. Here it comes!

"I've been wanting to do this for a long time," she said, yanking me into a deep, hungry kiss.

At first, I couldn't believe it was finally happening despite anticipating it all night. Once the shock of her lips colliding with mine wore off, I kissed her back just as hungrily. Every thought and dream that haunted me over the last few weeks fueled my hunger, and I could not get enough of her. I hoped this wasn't another cruel joke because my pants were getting too tight and I needed to go all the way.

"Come back to my place," she whispered.

I hoped she didn't live far. This was definitely not how I imagined my day ending, but I was totally down for the detour.

Need to catch up? See what you missed or start reading here!

[lenkusov]

non-tragic (just somewhat inconvenient) DnD character backstories

DnD character idea: Someone who's literally just a regular guy who got bored of the daily grind at like, age 35 or something, and decides to go adventuring

Artificer who gets tired of building houses that she'll never afford to live in and drives a 1475 Chevy Conestoga. Starts doing quests because her work wagon got broke into while she walked to the corner store on smoke break and some thief took her M18 Cordless Brace-and-Bit, so she's gotta go to every seedy vendor in town tryna get it back cause the guards are too busy eating donuts and beating up orcs for being green.

Decides to spend her rent money on a hand crossbow instead cause she got mugged while walking to the 3rd pawn shop she tried, and sells all but the basics of her tools to convert her shitbox wagon into a camper to go traveling so she won't have to worry about rent for a while.

Adventuring campaign starts when she pulls into a country hay station a week later and decides to pick up a couple hitchhiking adventurers she finds standing around the bulletin board and eating their bologna and cheese biscuits, says "fuck it" and decides to go bandit killing cause her cash is running out and the wheel bearings in her wagon are almost worn out.

Other adventurers include a Fighter who just did a stint in the infantry to pay for his Mage's College tuition (but flunked out the first semester), a Bard who works the grill at a tavern cause he still can't find a drummer for his cover band, a Cleric who got tired of being stuck in an understaffed temple ER dealing with plague-ridden idiots and drunk frequent-flyers, Druid who lives in an apartment downtown to get away from his Crunchy Mom and only learned elemental magic cause she made him, Monk who teaches karate classes out of his second-floor apartment above an Elven restaurant and moonlights as a janitor cause he's great with a mop

Barbarian who's just a middle-aged dad with anger management issues, who just wants to have a cold beer and watch the NASChar chariot races but Karen cheated with the mailman and took the fucking kids in the divorce, so he buys a Mustang (horse) and hits the open road for a midlife-crisis adventure

[coolbeanzeaglbones]

Wwt

Chad was breathing hard, trying to stay small. He knocked the kid into the wall. He knocked the kid into the frickin wall.

He felt horrible. He felt like this didn't really matter at all, that he was just doing this because of some….some…stupid person that he listened to. Someone who could've seen him grow big and had wanted him dead or out of the way for some sinister reason.

But he did know about Manant. No one knew about Manant….but still, was it all really worth this? Was it worth it to break apart families?

Chad stared at the photo, crossing off Ricky Falomir’s name in red ink before hiding it back in his nightstand. 

Ian Fowles.

That was the last name on the list. Ian Fowles. He was thinking that this would probably take another few months to find, because he had never heard of anyone with the last name ‘Fowles’ but then he realized he could look in the phone book.

So, in the middle of the night, he sneaked down to the phone booth in the downtown area. He had a plan, and a pretty darn good one.

It was a crisp night, the beginning of autumn. He tugged his sweatshirt tighter over himself and continued down the sidewalk. Finally, he reached his destination and opened the booth.

He thought for a second, thinking about the kids back in the unit at home.

He opened the book to ‘F’ and looked for the name Fowles.

I guess Fowles is not a very common surname, Chad thought. There was only one. Phoenix Fowles. (I'm going with a bird thing so…)

He tore the page because darn if he wasn't already breaking the law, and went to find the address.

His plan was to integrate walking and/or driving past the house into his route home. So he could figure out which of their children was Ian.

Pretty good plan.

XXXXXXXXXXXLINEBREAKXXXXXXXXX 

His route was longer now, but he was getting Intel. He knew there were two brothers, one of them was six or seven and the other was about three or four. The older brother had eagle claws for hands. So he figured the younger brother was Ian.

They were tight.

Like, he would wait for his brother to get home from school and be so excited. He would go down to the bus stop and wait.

That's where Chad was going to do it.

XXXXXXXXXXXLINEBREAKXXXXXXXXX

Ian was a smart kid for his age. He was pretty mature for a four year old. So mature in fact that his parents trusted him to walk down to the bus stop each day to wait for his older brother.

Ian loved his brother. He thought he was so cool. He thought it was so cool that he inherited the traits of the generation's curse that was actually.

See, Ian was very fragile. He had to wear heavy duty braces in his wrists and knees to protect his fragile bones. But other than that, he was a normal kid.

He stood at his normal spot where he waited, fiddling with a guitar pick his brother had given him, when someone came and stood next to him.

The man who stood next to him was huge. Ian had seen him walking through the neighborhood before, but he had never spoken to him.

The man started a conversation, “Hello.” Ian was shy, so he just waved, “Why are you here by yourself? You're just a little kid.” Ian knew he had to respond to this guy, but he knew he wasn't supposed to talk to strangers, so he said, “My mom said I'm not supposed to talk to strangers.” the man nodded, “Okay, but consider…”

The man wrapped his hand around Ian's mouth to prevent him from screaming. There was a cloth around his mouth. It smelled oddly sweet.

He elbowed the man, trying to get him off, but, as was said before, this guy was huge, but he was losing consciousness.

He wrapped his arm around Ian's waist and just took him.

A bit short, but the next one might be long, I have a few ideas and I need to sort them out for the best one. Also, I don't think Eaglebones is a super because he didn't have powers until his run in with the sun spirit. So, I read somewhere that it was a curse, so...

[reverend-dog]

Street Level

Tough skidded her motorcycle to a stop and leaped off, pausing long enough to grab a fire blanket from the cargo pod before sprinting toward the blazing car. “Get back!” a patrol officer yelled, hands thrown out to block her, before he recognized her costume.

She dodged around the officer without breaking stride, and ran across the puddle of burning gasoline. Smoke curled from the door handle as the chrome finish blackened and burned away, but she grabbed it with both hands and yanked. “Come on!” she yelled, then cursed as the door refused to budge. Through the window, she saw an old man slumped in his seat, held in place by his belt.

She fished in her pocket and drew out her knife, with the steel spur on one end. She swung at the window, and the spur shattered the safety glass into relatively harmless pebbles. The tungsten blade made short work of the seat belt straps, but pulling the driver out while at the same time wrapping him in the fire blanket was awkward as hell. Finally, old man slung over one shoulder, Tough staggered out of the inferno, to the accompaniment of fire sirens.

“He’s all yours,” she told the EMTs as they rushed up, and laid him on the gurney. They set to work without a word, but one offered a quick smile. As Tough walked back to her motorcycle, a concerted cheer rose from gathered onlookers. She glanced around, then saw their eyes were directed upward. Apex descended from the sky and inhaled, drawing air away from the flames and extinguishing them. He hovered long enough to survey the scene and toss a jaunty wave to the crowd, then soared off to vanish among the clouds.

Tough stopped at a gas station to refuel and grab a drink. As she stood at the register, the automatic doors chimed and slid open. Three youths, teens or barely twenty, two male, one female, stood in the doorway and stared at Tough. She turned her head to look back at them. The tableau held for two or three tense heartbeats, before the kids spun and double-timed across the parking lot. The clerk exchanged a grin with Tough, and rang up the gas and Gatorade as no charge.

The police scanner built into Tough’s helmet (she didn’t need a helmet, but the law) coughed and alerted all units to establish a cordon around the courthouse. Apex and Sepulchre were having it out in the street outside, and civilians needed to be evacuated and kept clear. Tough turned her motorcycle toward downtown.

“What are you doing here?” a police sergeant challenged her as she jogged between jammed cars. “What can you do that Apex can’t?” Tough ignored him. As expected, chunks of masonry and ruined vehicles littered the street. Above, Apex’s blue-and-gold blur thundered against Sepulchre’s black and red. Energy blasts crackled and flared, some hitting their target, some tearing chunks from nearby buildings.

Tough spotted a woman digging frantically at a pile of rubble, and charged over. The two of them managed to clear enough debris to uncover a bailiff, unconscious and bleeding from his nose. “He pushed me out of the way,” the woman sobbed. “He saved my life!”

“Follow me,” Tough directed, as she hefted the injured man over her shoulder.

They were two steps away from the police cordon when metal screeched and crunched behind them. Tough glanced over her shoulder, and saw a car rolling over and over, directly at them. Beyond, Apex and Sepulchre had brought their fight to earth, and one or the other must have thrown the car. “Here!” Tough yelled, and shoved the bailiff onto the woman. As the two of them sprawled, Tough put her back to the oncoming car and braced. The car folded nearly in two, and the thunder of impact left her ears with the sound of distant bells.

She opened her eyes and looked down, to see the woman dragging the bailiff, to be met halfway to the cordon by police officers. They hustled the woman and the bailiff to an ambulance, as Tough wrestled her way free of the twisted car. The woman glanced back over her shoulder, and met Tough’s eyes. Thunder rolled between buildings as Sepulchre blasted into the sky, Apex in close pursuit, both instantly lost to view.

“I heard,” Dad commented as Shelley emerged from the basement, motorcycle and costume left in their place just inside the tunnel from the river. “Apex, Apex, Apex.” He snorted. “You’d think he’s the only hero in town!” He knocked the cap from a bottle of beer with an expert tap, and handed it to her.

Shelley shrugged and took a long draw from the bottle. “Somebody’s got to stop psychos like Sepulchre,” she observed. “I’m sure as hell not up to it.”

“No,” Dad conceded, “but you do as much good as he does, more! When’s the last time he went out of his way to save a life?” He scowled. “It’s not fair. People should hear about you, too!”

Shelley thought of the EMT.

The gas station clerk.

The woman at the courthouse.

“It’s okay, Dad,” she soothed, and sagged into a recliner. “The right people know. What’s for dinner?”

[allisluv]

OMGG CONGRATULATIONS FOR 300 I'M LITERALLY SO HAPPY FOR YOU, YOU DESERVE IT SMMM YOU'RE LITERALLY MY FAVORITE WRITER!!!

🎸 here, with a need for a 🫶, bi girlie, so if you can, find me a guy and a gal

I have the most basic looks, brown eyes and hair, tan, 163 sm, big thighs and a belly, 57 kg, braces. I can't go out without eye liner, this is the only makeup I can't go without.

For music taste I'm vibing to Deftones, Linkin park, my chemical romance, Fallout boy, Chase Atlantic, blink-182, korn, flyleaf, Nirvana, sex pistols, tv girl, Evanescence, Royal blood, slipknot, green day, muse and Arctic Monkeys, partly listening to Madison beer, the pretty reckless, the warning, Halsey mother mother and my faves are Måneskin, Marina and Paramore.

My obsession as a kid was writing poetry (about my elementary situationship that's still going on years after) and now I'm writing songs. For a partner I really need humor, loyalty and parience, and I'm not really into weird or humiliation and pain kinks, I'm getting triggered by them. I have huge love for pretty eyes, at that situationship I mentioned there were moments where I just got to the guy and stared into his eyes lol ( I swear he didn't find it weird I swear😭😭). My fav shows are HIMYM, friends and the first 3 seasons of Gilmore Girls.

My style is like punkish downtown girl. I live in a beach city, so from when I was younger I haven't left the beach, it helps me calm down when I'm jumping to the waves and let them hit me. I have an obsession with sunsets and sunrises, and in Bulgaria (I don't know if it's that popular in other countries) we have a tradition to celebrate July Morning (go to the beach and watch the sunrise on 1st of July). When I was in elementary I bought a mermaid tail from Amazon.

I have black cat energy around most people, but with with my situationship guy I turn into an orange one (and I hate myself for it). I love biology, especially marine and human ones. I can't decide if I wanna be a marine biologist or a gynecologist. I'm the most hopeless romantic person you can find.

When I was a kid with my mom we always rescued sick stray animals and orphaned baby ones and found them a new home (let's just say my dad wasn't very happy). My fav animals are sharks and bats, my fav colors are navy, dark red and any aquatic colors. My favorite places in my hometown are the beach (obvi) and the dolphinarium. I'm a swimmer and love going to the gym, literally the only sports I like.

Again, I'm so happy for you, hope you reach 400 followers soon!💗

-🎸

thank you for your kind words anon, they mean a lot to me <3. i may be very biased but i definitely think you'd work with finnick o'dair or annie cresta. i think they both have the qualities you're looking for in a partner and the fact that you're both swimmers and sunset lovers is an added bonus <3

[dragons-and-dwarves-are-nice]

To the Shadows that Cry Witch /// Chapter 6

WE'RE FINALLY HERE!!!! Hopefully some of you guessed right and we've finally been introduced to Bilbo! He's one of my favourite characters to write about, as I love describing his personality and mannerisms so much, so hopefully I've managed to write him alright. Enjoy :))))) <3

Summary: So uhhhh...... Magic is real. Middle Earth is real. Shit goes down. Bon Appetit.

Tags: Kíli x oc/reader - Fíli x oc (POV to be written soon) - Thorin's company x ocs/reader (platonic) - fluff - angst - SUPER slow burn - crack - Bagginshield

Word Count: 1293

Warnings: Mentions of Minor and Major Injuries from last chapter, Thunderstorms/Lightning

Taglist - comment or message to be added!

PLEASE START FROM THE BEGINNING IF YOU HAVEN'T ALREADY OK LOVE U

Want some background music? Check out my Soundtrack Playlist!

Now available on Wattpad and AO3 (please let me know if links aren't working)

< Chapter 5 // Chapter 6 // Chapter 7 >

PART 1: Chapter 6 -

Ironically Alive

Anachronism (definition): Something or someone that is out of place in terms of time and chronology. E.g. futuristic items in period pieces, or the other way round.

Bilbo Baggins wouldn’t say he was the most inviting person on Bag End, often causing a show in front of his distant neighbours as he loudly drove off the Sackville-Baggins’, but he was honest, and gave his opinion whenever he deemed it most necessary, especially when it was about what he thought of his relatives.

He was also honest to say that he wasn’t fond of people arriving unexpectedly, especially doing so by causing an absolute ruckus on his roof.

 The noise from the horrendous rain was already doing his head in, after hearing it hammer down on every exposed surface of his house for almost two days straight. It also meant the market downtown was most likely postponed until it all blew over, therefore meaning that he was left holed up in his home. It’s not like he minded it, but oh how he was desperate to make some blueberry muffins, but he had used the last of his flour on the bread that now sat a quarter eaten on his windowsill. All he could really do now was sit back in his armchair with a cup of his favourite chamomile tea and prop his feet up to warm by the hearth with a hearty sigh for the evening.

That was until he found himself springing out his chair before he could swallow his first sip. The sounds of screaming came from above and knocking of objects rolling across his ceiling travelled until they reached the front of his house. He watched in horror as two dark shapes fell past his window, landing with a nasty crunch in his garden.

His garden! It was already at risk of becoming waterlogged, let alone crushed by whatever landed on it!

“It better not be those damn kids again!” he spluttered to himself, rushing to his feet whilst setting down his tea with loud ‘CLINK’. Brows furrowed and mouth pressed into a thin, tense line, he stormed towards the door with clenched fists, ready to give whoever was out there a piece of his mind.

Hauling the large circular door open, he braced himself before poking his head out and narrowed his eyes to spy through the icy rain. Looking to the left where he had watched the objects land through the window, he opened his mouth. But the words had already died on his tongue as he took in the bone-chilling sight before him.

He jolted slightly in surprise and fear at the sight of two bodies laid sprawled in his bushes, unmoving, their arms and legs twisted and bent at odd angles. He also could have sworn he heard heard one of them groaning, before they dropped unconscious just as he had poked his head out.

“Oh my!” He blurted. “Oh no- no no no.”

It wasn’t long before he had rushed back in and grabbed a lantern, no longer caring about the rain as he hurried back outside.

Cautiously creeping towards them, he got ready to bolt at the slightest movement, but fortunately so far, there had been none. He held the lantern over the figures, making out that they were no hobbits, but two big folk, who happened to be wearing the strangest of clothes. As he brought his face closer, he tried to, but couldn’t come up with what kind of business they would have here, other than passing through. No sooner had he leant towards them for a better look was he pulling away at the sight of their faces.

Cuts and bruises of all shapes and sizes littered every inch of visible skin, one of them with a particularly nasty one on their forehead, that was still oozing blood. Taking a few steps back, he lifted the lantern to see if anything or anyone had caused them to tumble from the top of the hill, but he found nothing except upturned grass and mud that indicated where they had fallen down. Returning back to the bodies, Bilbo placed the lantern on the ground nearby. He stood there, nervously tapping his foot whilst wringing his hands together as he eyed them, thinking of what to do. They were definitely unfit to remain outside in such extreme weather, so with a reluctant sigh and shake of his head, he sped back inside.

Shoving rugs aside with his feet to make a clear path (but also not to ruin them of course), he made his way to the main guest bedroom at the far end of the house. Emptying a chest of towels, he then layered them on top of the double bed, before heading back outside.

It took him about half an hour, considering these two big folk – women, he reminded himself – weren’t exactly hobbit sized. Their longer limbs, especially the brunette one, made it incredibly difficult to haul them inside, the water dripping off of them becoming a slipping hazard on the polished wood. It wasn’t any easier in the guest room, with their legs and arms giving him a twitching eye when they kept slipping off the edge of the short bed.

Gently removing their completely soaked coats and shoes, he brought them over to the hearth in the living room, hanging them on a rack so the fire would have them dry by the morn. Curiously rubbing the surface of the shoes with his thumb, he made a quick side note in his mind to ask what the material of these strange clothes were, as he had never seen or felt such material like it.

Returning to the guest bedroom, he made sure that the two girls were as comfortable as he could make them. He considered removing their mud clogged trousers to save them both from being uncomfortable when they woke up, but he swatted that thought away immediately, reminding himself that he was a gentlehobbit and would not invade such privacy. After all, the towels were there to protect his sheets anyway.

Lighting another small lantern by the bed to prevent them from waking up in darkness (and possibly sending them into an unwanted panic), he laid another set of towels over any muddy or damp areas he could see, before laying a quilt over the both of them. Making his way over to the doorway, he took one last look at the strange people in his guest bed, before pulling the door closed as quietly as he could.

Making his way back to the front of the house, he retrieved the lantern he left outside, and locked the door, before taking out a large cleaning rag from one of the cupboards to soak up the puddles of mud and rainwater that littered the hallway.

Making his way over to his own room, he changed out of his now wet clothes, and into his pyjamas. Taking a quick walk around the house to ensure the curtains were closed and the front door locked, Bilbo took a last trip to the living room to lay his own clothes on the hearth, retrieved his now lukewarm cup of tea, and retired to his room.

In an attempt to calm his nerves from the night’s highly unusual events, he read a chapter of the book he had bought earlier this month; though not taking much in, as he was too busy keeping a sharp ear out for any noises from down the hall. After hearing only the continuous rain and thunder from outside, he finished his tea, placing the cup back on its saucer on the bedside table.

Blowing out the candle on the bedside table, he brought the covers up, feeling the exhaustion from the unexpected evening finally catch up with him, and by the time his head hit the pillow, he was out like a light.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

< Chapter 5 // Chapter 6 // Chapter 7 >

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Can't wait to see you on the 28st April for Chapter 7! Also please comment if you want to be added to the Taglist <3

Taglist:

@opheliasdrowningg @mrsdurin @g1gglef1t @qmabailor @jupiterrdarling @emstar07

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[vacantgodling]

Tell me about the most ridiculous occurrences and most terrible arguments (on- or off-screen) in Sixteen Candles and Celestial Weddings! - @void-botanist

thank you for asking rose!! <3

i don't have much written for celestial weddings and a lot of it is gonna be more sappy and romance, not so much ridiculous happenings so i'm gonna p much just focus on sixteen candles for this LMAO.

a lot of sixteen candles i do "technically" want to rewrite, just to align more with the developments i've made, though i think a lot of the convos may still be the same lmao. so from my old draft some of the most ridiculous arguments/occurrences are:

getting upset with ranger for fucking the CEO of the bar he works at and (1) not telling anyone where he was (2) being gone for the entire weekend without anyone knowing where he was (this wasn't them being upset that he had sex but more like we were worried about your safety also..... fucking your boss is.....)

ranger and roger fighting over whether star wars or star trek is better:

Hanger Rick (ranger): eowugfdsfnrjwkfktnejekdntjejeje kill me (roger): FOR THE LAST FUCKING TIME Hanger Rick: F I G H T M E VaniVee (vani): ???? What’s happening??? Why are you two fighting??? Nanette: From what I understand, Roger said that Star Trek was better than Star Wars and the two of them have been arguing ever since. VaniVee: For an hour??? :00 kill me: from what you understand??? kill me: NAN YOU’VE BEEN HERE THE WHOLE TIME Nanette: I stopped paying attention because I don’t have an opinion.

if roger can outdrink ranger (he can't. no one can. its ungodly how much liquor ranger can put away)

this entire bit:

Nanette: The secret’s out Ranger.  Nanette: You are an alien. Hanger Rick: gasp Hanger Rick: all this time i never thought anyone would find me out… kill me: Oh my god. Hanger Rick: YOU’LL NEVER TAKE ME ALIVE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Nanette: I don’t have to. The government will accept a dead specimen just as much as a live one. Hanger Rick: nan how… how could you?! Nanette: -cocks gun- Sayonara, Mr. Alien.

ranger and tucker are the most likely to bitch at each other about things and one of the things they constantly bicker about is spelling. tucker misspells stuff on purpose specifically because it gets on ranger's nerves

Park Hanger (ranger): SPELL MY FUCKING NAME RIGHT YOU ASSHOLE sunbolian 689 (tucker): ;D Park Hanger: DON’T YOU FUCKING WINK AT ME

and speaking of the two of them, whether channing tatum or chris hemsworth is better:

Team Thor (ranger): this fucking idiot thinks that channing tatum is better than chris hemsworth Team Thor: he is fucking MISTAKEN Magic Mike 4ever (tucker): DAS BULLSHIT ND U KNO IT RNGR downtown blues (roger): Are you fucking kidding me?

and speaking of roger, a more serious argument/discussion they got is over roge's internalized homophobia :((( his family sucks bad and he's internalized a lot of stuff (but all his friends are queer, and he himself is questioning but he just struggles with it)

the boys (ranger/roger/tucker) arguing about tucker's very obvious but thank-god-vani-is-oblivious crush thats 13 years and counting (also for context, they all have sleep overs quite often)

sigh (roger): Oh, so, what would you call her sleeping in her panties and one of your shirts that you LEFT AT HER HOUSE BEFORE AND NEVER GOT BACK TUCKER????? range rover (ranger): TBH I THOUGHT YOU GUYS FUCKED BUT YOUR AGGRESSIVE NECK SLITTING MOTION TOLD ME OTHERWISE range rover: ALSO YOUR SEVERE LACK OF HICKEYS. Vani’s Romeo (tucker): OMFG Y WOULD WE FCK IF U GUYZ WRE ALL DERE????????? range rover: listen. don’t let us stop you from getting a good dicking

but also tucker and ranger get into a huge fight about how well they know and care about each other (its a lot of backstory but the two of them are the biggest hotheads so they tend to get into it the most often)

"magnet-ologist"

who cares you know who i am anyway (ranger): we all remember your shitty braces roge tarvak gilfensparrow (tucker): i rmbr wen u got ur braces stuk on a magnet gena rose brought 4 career day who cares you know who i am anyway: lmao wait why the fuck did gena rose bring a magnet for career day  who cares you know who i am anyway: is the magnet her father?? what?? tarvak gilfensparrow: lololol she said da magnet was her mthr tarvak gilfensparrow: waz suppsed 2 represent hr or somthin cuz hr mum waz a magnet-tologist Nanette: Is that even an occupation? tarvak gilfensparrow: lmao idk return of the sis (roger): The technical term is probably “geomagnetist”

so those are all the big ones i think! i know there'll be more when i revamp this properly <3 i love these idiots

[cheatingwifelover]

How to treat a cheating slut wife

Excerpt:

very Wednesday night me(35f) and a few of my girlfriends go out and try a different bar in our area I leave hubby at home to watch the kids. This particular Wednesday we choose this seedy not main stream bar downtown.

I walked in the bar bathroom was a little dirty but I’ve definitely been in worse(another story). He must have seen me because only a few moments after I walked in he and one of his friends came in and locked the door. I was shocked to see a second one walk in but was excited for the opportunity.

They spit roasted me for a few minutes, swapping back and forth taking turns on my pussy and mouth. They seemed to enjoy making me taste myself on their cocks. Then they made me lean over bracing myself with my hands on the toilet while they each took turns fucking me from behind. I didn’t care I was so engrossed in the moment they could have done anything they liked.

Wife and mom getting fucked in a seedy bar...what's not to love?