#nick’s prompts

[danphanwritingprompts]

Tucker has been streaming video games for a while, and he’s been challenged by Dash to a 1v1 match. He begs Danny to overshadow Tucker’s character to help ensure his victory. Danny agrees. However, the unusual character model and game abilities immediately make people suspect something’s up.

[sturnioz]

shy!reader has been pretty much m.i.a all week, and fratboy!chris does not care. no seriously, he doesn’t care.

he’s just kept his eyes peeled every night through crowds of sweaty bodies jammed into his living room, and even through the sluggish crowds of tired students in college hallways, yet he couldn’t find you.

it was on the 6th night when chris was seriously considering showing up at your place — for no reason just he needed your lit notes, of course —when he received a text from nick.

nick, the eldest — and no doubt more mature —triplet. chris’ eyebrows furrowed at the notification, why was nick texting him at 10:30pm on a weeknight? kid cares way too much about being on time for class in the mornings

—

Nick: *image attached* isn’t this one of your girls?

—

the somewhat blurry picture was taken from a distance in the old, dusty library on campus. you sat in a corner, a mess of notes, books and your laptop sprawled on the desk in front of you. you looked weak, your hair a mess, bags prominent under your eyes.

before chris could even react, his phone buzzed again

—

i’m not a total creeper, i’ve just noticed her here every night this week and i’m pretty sure she has not changed her sweatshirt once

or pretty much left this library.

i seriously hope this is actually her and not a complete stranger

you know what, i’m talking to her. don’t change my mind.

—

chris groaned, the realisation of finals week dawning on him. sometimes chris forgets how much college actually means to you, and how ridiculously sick it makes you.

he did not have time for this, he had customers to please, yet - he didn’t hesitate. he’s huffing and complaining pretty much the whole time, but he’s quick to make his way over to the library he’s really not too familiar with, saving you from the shackles that is a conversation with a redbull fueled nick sturniolo.

-

you can take it from here, love u pooks mwah

- 🫧

gonna take it from here in shy!readers pov cos i want nick and shy!reader to have some one on one time before fratboy!chris grumpily comes over !!

your back aches with a constant throb, your eyes feel gritty and sore, and a dull headache pulses at your temples, making it difficult for you to concentrate. hunched over in the dimly lit corner of the library, you've spent countless of hours — days — buried in textbooks, scribbles notes and laptop screens, desperately trying to absorb everything before your exams.

the week has been relentless, leaving you physically and emotionally drained, as if the weight of your studies is pressing down on you.

you haven't seen chris in almost a week. the silence has been deafening — no texts lighting up your phone, no calls breaking the quiet, and no facetime calls at late hours. truth be told, you did put your phone on do not disturb, silencing any incoming calls to shield yourself from distractions. it's not that you intended to cut off all communication completely; you simply needed space.

you needed to be alone, to gather your thoughts, and to focus on your studies, to not be distracted by his intense social life.

however, you are distracted when someone slams a stack of textbooks onto the table opposite you, the sound echoing in the quiet space. startled, you lift your tired gaze, and your heart thumps when you recognise a familiar that slumps into the seat across from you.

he runs a hand through his tousled mullet, adjusting the thin-framed glasses that rest on the bridge of his nose before flashing you a friendly grin.

you know who he is. you've seen him in countless pictures and instagram posts with chris and matt. yet, despite your familiarity with his image, you've never met him in person — you never even spoke a word to each other, and you find yourself sliding further down in your seat, a wave of awkwardness and shyness washing over you.

"hello—fuck!" nick curses as he sets his can of red bull down on the wooden table, only for it to topple over and spill a little. flustered and annoyed, he mutters under his breath, hastily dabbing at the tiny droplets on the table with the sleeve of his sweater. his eyes finally meet yours again, and he offers another grin. "hello."

"hi.." you manage to respond, your voice barely above a whisper.

"i've noticed that you're, like, constantly glued to this fucking seat, like you haven't moved the entire week—" nick pauses mid-sentence, his eyes widening as he realises how awful his wording sounds. he quickly holds up his hand, a look of urgency in his expression. "i'm not a creep. i wasn't staring at you. i know you—i think i know you—no, i do know you. you're, like, kinda with my brother. chris. that's you, right? god, tell me that's you, 'cos i'm gonna end up losing my mind—"

"yeah," you cut off his intense rambling, which is probably fuelled by the red bull he keeps fidgeting with. "that... that's me, yeah."

nick blinks at you in silence for a moment before he leans forward, resting his elbows on the table, and he bluntly says. "wow, you really are quiet," you become a little flustered at that, tearing your gaze away from him until he asks incredulously. "the fuck are you doing with chris of all people?"

a subtle smile pulls at your lips at that, especially when you glance back at his face and see the shock etched across it. honestly, you don't even know what you're doing with chris, but it wouldn't exactly be appropriate to go into the details with his brother. so, you simply shrug your shoulders in response.

nick suddenly deadpans. "blink twice if you need my help."

now that makes you laugh — a genuine, unexpected sound that splutters past your lips. you quickly cover your mouth, eyes widening as the sound echoes through the library and you glance around, paranoid that someone might shoot you the dirtiest look and demand you to shut up or leave.

but nick waves it off dismissively when he notices your worries, "they can go fuck themselves."

you remain silent for a moment, considering his words, before stating, "we... are in a library."

"then they can go fuck themselves quietly."

another genuine, but quieter, laugh escapes you. you find yourself relaxing a bit more with him, opening up and feeling more comfortable as nick takes charge of the conversation; showing genuine interest in your major, your studies, and your hobbies.

you do the same, getting to know him better, and even getting a little excited when you realise how many similarities you share. the more you chat, the more your cheeks start to hurt from smiling so much. the tiredness that had once taken over you begins to fade away, replaced by a lightness you haven't felt in days, and your books and notes sit forgotten on the table.

however, your head perks up in surprise when you spot chris walking through the double doors. he's wearing a beanie on top of his head with tuffs of curly hair peeking out, a hoodie that swallows his frame, and his hands are shoved deep in the pockets of his sweatpants.

he glances around the library, his eyes finally zeroing in on you and nick at the far end of the room. you can't quite read his expression — his face stoic as he makes his way over.

he drops down in the chair beside you, and nick immediately pulls a face, shooting you a look that makes you giggle again, and chris huffs at the sound, clearly unimpressed.

"stop botherin' her," chris mutters, his foot hooking comfortably beneath your chair as he settles in.

"m'not."

chris rolls his eyes, ignoring nick's response as he turns his attention to you. he takes you in for a moment, his eyebrows furrowing as he says, "tell him he's botherin' you, kid."

you can't help but smile gently. "he's not bothering me. he's been fun.. i like his company."

"told you," nick muses across from across the table. chris snaps his head towards nick, shooting him a glare as nick lifts the can of red bull to his mouth, a smirk spreading across his lips as he adds, "bitch."

[endereies]

-➤ Matt fucks the attitude out of you on the bonnet of his car

“You think you’re so fucking slick, don’t you, angel.” His grip on your hip wasn’t as tender as when he originally spoke. The sarcasm seeped eagerly into dulcet voice. It was unfair how it made you just that bit weaker.

“Hm? M’not sure what you’re talking about. I’ve done nothing to ya or for ya.” Your body slipped from his vice to lean against his freshly cleaned car. Your ass pressed firmly against the shiny metal; the cold feeling was expected but you still hitched at the feeling. The skin was barely covered by your miniskirt that showed off your panties proudly. Blue. You made sure of that.

“You just love to fucking play dumb. S’cute how you think that’ll work…” Matt’s eyes roll back as he clicks his tongue, an action that was all too familiar. His whole body straightens up and the sass disappears for a moment, dragging your wrist to his chest. When his gaze flickers to your lips your body inches forward only for it to be spun and pressed against his vehicle. Blue arrays were all you could see before Matt lifted your head to make eye contact through the reflection. The smirk that was visible gave your body a layer of goose bumps.

“How about we just shut up? Sound good, angel?” You were too stunned to muster anything but a whimper, causing Matt to chuckle under his breath. “Pathetic. All bark, no bite.”

Both his hands slithered down your sides, forcing his hands under the soft white fabric. The seams of your bra were barely caressed before being ignored completely, focusing on what he really wanted.

With your hips shown off to him, he couldn’t help but stare at what you presented to him. The warmth trailed back down your sides before confidently manoeuvring around your thighs. Matt knew what he was doing. “Don’t tease.” He chuckles lowly once more, snickering at your attempt to take charge of the situation.

“So you can wander around the tracks, practically flashing anyone that gave you attention, but can’t wait five minutes?” He hummed disapprovingly “Desperation is not a good look on you.” Every tone stemmed from his chest, covered in faux sweetness.

Before you could defend yourself, his fingers applied pressure to your clothed cunt. Stroking up and down, he was barely stimulating you. It was just enough for him to have time to speak more. “This attitude has got to go, and I think I know just the remedy for that”

Only for a moment, the contact you two shared had disappeared, forcing you to chase it with your hips. But once his fingers hooked into your panties, he dragged them down your thighs before letting gravity do the work. “Now, think you can behave for me now?”

You eagerly nodded as his fingers traced your core directly now. No notice was given to you before Matt decided to insert one finger inside of you. The sudden contact made you clench around his finger that had started to pump slowly. The amount of build-up had caused enough slick to be produced so that he heard the quiet squelches of your pussy. “Hm, so wet already, huh?”

Using his free hand, your body was arched towards his chest leaving your palms as the only support for your body. The grip on your neck wasn’t strong nor was he actually restricting your flow of air. This was all a point to prove that he was still in control. Pulling his finger all the way out, he adjusted a second finger before adding that inside your core. You had grown to the routine but he managed to surprise you with a quick scissor motion. When your jaw goes slack from the motion, you find his smile in the reflection of the car, intensifying when he saw your reaction.

A soft moan passed your lips as he brought his thumb to brush over your clit. He groaned at the feeling of you clench around his fingers as you enveloped them. The pleasure eased your lower body as made you crave the satisfaction that was barely out of your reach. It was slow and tedious. Methodical. The slight grinding of your pelvis was immediately ceased by the tighter hold on your neck, causing you to shudder.

“Every time you do that, I’ll go slower” There was no room for misunderstanding, not when you knew Matt could leave you high and dry over the bonnet of his own car. “M’sorry”

“Oh? An apology… You really are something, angel?” His pace increases further, giving you that strong and steady pace you needed. Occasionally, Matt would curl his fingers deeper, pressing hard against your clit. The pleasure made your thighs shake, a feeling Matt would never get over, no matter how many times he did it.

He tugged a little harder on your throat, forcing your body to give him more access to what he wanted. Your walls fluttered around his fingers, and he brought in a third to speed up the process. “Ma- Matt. I’m close, please…”

“I know, you just can’t help yourself, can you?” Your head shook rapidly at his words, too focused on the feeling between your legs to care about responding. “Let go when you’re ready, yeah?”

Both your eyes clamped shut as the feeling only intensified. Your body snaps as you clench heavily, causing fiction against your walls. A loud moan, almost a whimper, passes through your lips as you reach your high. “Matt-!”

Matt’s fingers didn’t change pace until you rode out your high and when your body spasmed, he knew to draw his fingers out. He admired the glistening arousal that coated him, pushing them in front of your mouth. You got the message quickly and opened your mouth, the sudden intrusion catching you off guard. “Yeahhh, clean up your mess, m’kay?”

Your tongue sucked off the slick from his fingers and released them with a slight pop. Expectantly, you looked back at Matt, expecting his touch to return soon.

“Oh no. You really think you deserve that after what you did?” You wanted to whine at his statement, but you knew better to complain, so you resorted for the next best option.

“Prick.”

@melliflws @yuhayeee @st7rnioioss @sturn-bugz @bueckers @worldlxvlys @raysmayhem-72 @patscorner @y0urm4m @bernardsbendystraws @junnniiieee07 @luverboychris @jnkvivi @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @shorthairchris @colorthecosmos444 @anabethinking @anyaa2s @emilyfaith2003 @zariyamitchell-blog @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut @sturniolosiphone @slutf4rmatt @flouvela @lovesturni0l0s @2prcntmilkluvr @itsmaddielouis @angelicameron

© ENDEREIES 2024

[shummthechumm]

NICKELODEON/BACKYARDIGANS OFFICIAL HIRE ME I CAN HELP YOU!!!!

[cozylittleartblog]

[local_noir_toaster_commands_six_year_old_to_Kill.png]

twitter art prompt context under the cut

[loverboysturn]

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ starcrossed!chris meets starcrossed!reader for the first time.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ read part two here

chris knows he shouldn’t be here.

he shouldn’t be on this side of town, yet here he is, wearing a pair of red devil horns climbing over a garden gate to get into the halloween party everyone on his side of town had been whispering about for weeks, he had lost nick and matt the moment that the three of them had arrived, but he didn't mind, he was in and nothing else mattered right now.

he brushes himself off and makes his way inside, ready to push through the crowd when he scans the room looking for his brothers, his eyes shift to the staircase, finding you standing at the top, when your eyes lock with the stranger's neither of you can seem to look away.

you’re dressed as an angel, a vision in white with a pair of wings and a glowing halo placed perfectly on top of your head and chris can’t help but smile to himself at the contrast between your chosen costumes as he’s stood there in an all black outfit with a pair of cheap devil horns that nick had picked up for him, awkwardly placed on his head.

an angel and a devil, it somehow feels like the perfect match.

your best friend stands to the side of you talking into your ear, completely unaware of the exchange unfolding beside her between you and chris, while you stand completely still, gaze still fixed on his.

you pull away from her, taking a step towards the stairs, the eye contact never breaking between the two of you, his eyes fixated on you as if it's just you two in the room, when you reach the bottom of the stairs, you pause for a second standing directly infront of him.

his eyes flicker over you, a grin forming on his lips as he looks you up and down in your costume, “an angel, huh? guess even the devil can’t keep from crossing paths with an angel tonight"

“maybe it’s fate” you reply.

“fate?” he raises an eyebrow, intrigued to which you nod at him,

“yeah, the devil and an angel… a match made in heaven, don’t ya think?”

chris chuckles, his smile widening as he steps closer to you. “a match made in heaven…i guess we’ll just have to find out won’t we?”

as chris is stood there, his eyes still locked on yours, he spots nick and matt in the corner of his eye across the large room weaving through the crowds, he tears his eyes away from yours to take a look at his brothers but as he does, he feels your body slip away from beneath him.

he watches you for a moment longer, frozen in place for a second, but just before you disappear completely into the crowd, you turn back to look at him one last time, something unspoken between you both, your gaze promising that if it’s meant to be like you said, your paths will cross again.

nick’s voice soon snaps chris back to reality “you’re quiet” glancing back and forth between the two of you as you now completely slip into the crowd “never seen you this distracted before”

chris hesitates for a moment, then mutters under his breath, “yeah, neither have i”

note: i spent too long on this and have read it soooo many times that i am now incredibly nervous to actually post it but pleaaaase let me know your thoughts (pls be nice!)

the whole starcrossed!chris & starcrossed!reader universe can all be found here

[cvnntagious]

𝐑𝐎𝐑𝐘’𝐒 𝐀𝐔 𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐂𝐈𝐀𝐋

must be heaven

matt huffed as he walked into your house beside you, hand immediately dropping from the small of your back once inside. "you good here?" he asked coldly, standing in the doorway as you turned around with a confused look spread across your face.

"huh? i mean, yeah..?"

"m'gonna go get mazzy from my house, and uh... i think i'll just head back there for tonight," he then said, blue eyes refusing to meet yours when you noted the hardness in his features.

you sighed, giving him a knowing look. "c'mon, don't tell me you're actually upset about that guy flirting with me earlier." a laugh-like scoff left your mouth at the idea.

he only shrugged, remaining silent for a moment before his eyes finally flicked up to meet yours, a clear bit of hurt in them. "i just don't get why you entertained him for so long," he spoke up, arms crossing as a cold breeze from the night air ruffled the back of his hair, "i mean, i was right there—watching."

"it was harmless," you rolled your eyes, thinking about how tired you were of his constant mood swings. “i mean, jeez matt, you act like m’gonna go of with some other guy while i’m out with you.”

an airy breath came out of his nose, along with an eye roll in return as he began to turn towards your front door. “whatever,” he said, taking the few steps to reach the entrance before he placed his large hand on side of the white door, “be back in a minute.”

with a small pout, you followed in his steps, grabbing the arm closest to you and pulling it into your chest to stop him from leaving. his head instantly snapped in your direction, shooting you a confused look when he felt your arms wrap around his. “you’re really just gonna leave me like this?” you practically whined, batting your falsies as you looked up at him.

his eyes ran over your face, flicking from your big doe eyes to your glossy lips as he wet his. he was such a fool for you. his resolve disintegrated almost immediately, picking up on your innuendo quick. “leave you like what?” he asked, unable to contain the small smirk that tugged at his full lips.

“y’know…” you trailed off, your eyes telling you the rest as they flicked down towards your outfit.

having worn a cute little black dress out to the bar with him, you weren’t aching for anybody’s attention but his. and with him all irritated with you, you had him just where you liked him. you took a few steps back, pulling him with you—though, it wasn’t much of a pull because he was practically in a trance. with a mischievous grin on his face, he was quick to hoover over you when you laid yourself down on the couch, kicking his shoes off smoothly as he brought a hand up to grab your waist through the thin material you wore. “you piss me off, y’know that?” he finally spoke up, though his words held no real weight with the way his hands continued to roam your body.

you were quick to nod, along with an innocent sounding ‘mhm’, all while wrapping your arms around his neck and puckering your lips to pull him in for a kiss. but just then, it was like he gained control of his body again, stiffening himself so you couldn’t pull him any closer. your brows raised in confusion, opening your mouth to ask him why before matt spoke instead: “bad girls don’t get kisses,” he explained sternly, a familiar hardness to his features returning when you feel his hand creeping up your thigh, hiking up your short dress in the process.

his finger instantly hooked under the side of your thong, pulling it just far enough for him to let it go with an audible snap. a small wince came from you, making matt’s eyes bright blue eyes flicker up to meet yours as he effortlessly tugged your lacy panties down, exposing your bare pussy to him. he caught the way you shivered at the cold air hitting your slick, licking his lips once more before he looked down at his favorite sight with a pleased grin. “look at that,” he muttered, talking more to himself than you, “so wet already, hm? you like when i’m upset with you?”

he knew you did—of course he knew you liked to piss him off just to get a little punishment; he’s been at this rodeo many times before. he wasn’t gonna give you want you wanted this time, though, his fingers lifting to begin toying with your eager clit in agonizingly slow circles.

“matt,” you whined, moving your hips to grind against his nimble fingers in hopes of more friction. instead, he lifted his hand giving you a disapproving ‘tch’ before slap.

his hand came down in one swift motion, shocking you when you felt the sting against your sensitive bud. a quiet moan was pulled from your throat, caught off guard by the new sensation. “oh, you like that, huh?” he’d spanked you many times before, yeah, but never there. you honestly weren’t even sure where he got it from, but when another slap landed on your clit, you weren’t given time to think about that.

“no, i-“ you began in a pleasured gasp.

“really? ‘cause it seems like y’do, baby.” the self satisfied tone he spoke in gave you goosebumps, brows furrowed as you looked up at him in desperation.

just then, his hands found your hips again. “fine, don’t like it?” he spoke again without even have given you time to answer his last question, “we’ll go back to this then,” he finished, quickly flipping you flat onto your stomach with little to no effort.

it didn’t take long before he’d undressed himself, landing another spanking, this time on your ass as he relished in the way you whimpered for him. “gonna fill y’up so good,” he rasped, now holding his hardened length to over your ass. “if i haven’t ruined you for everyone else by now, m’going to tonight,” he added, a small chuckle following.

when you looked back at him, lifting onto your elbows, he gave you a grin as he pumped himself a few times. spreading your asscheeks, he ran his fingers through your slit to gather some of your juices and rub it all over his dick. it didn’t take long for him to have lined himself up with your needy entrance, pushing inside slowly.

both of you let out long breaths, matt’s hands gripping your butt for what felt like dear life as he felt your walls mold to the familiar shape of him. he barely wasted any time in pulling back once he had bottomed out, giving you another slow, long stroke “faster,” you stifled out once you felt him leaning over you to press his chest against your back, breathing in your ear.

“y’wan me t’go faster?” he asked, head dipping to kiss your neck as he continued his languid grind into the plush skin of your ass.

you instantly nodded, making him give you an amused scoff. he lifted himself a bit, bending his knees to give you more than what you wanted. his hips snapped into your ass at a relentless pace, eliciting choked moans from your lips as you almost instantly collapsed into your couch. “matt, fu—ck. s’good, oh my- shit,” you babbled, the veins of his cock scratching an itch inside you that made your toes curl.

his hand made its way to the back of your head, squishing your face into the leather sideways as he grunted with each powerful thrust. “doing great, baby, back that into me,” he praised, a small moan following his demand as he felt your gummy walls sucking him in.

with that, you lifted your ass the best you could, giving him a better angle to hit that sweet spot. “oh–!” a wail was ripped from your throat when his fingers found your clit once again, applying just the right amount of pressure to have you squirming beneath him, almost trying your best to crawl away from the pleasure.

“p- papa, m’gonna,” you began warning, feeling your climax nearing quick as you gripped the blanket you left thrown over the armrest of the common seating.

as if on cue, your orgasm was ripped away from you when matt’s throbbing length was pulled from your walls, making you whine in the brattiest way you ever had before. you shook beneath matt as he lifted himself off of you, the pleasure dying down in a painful simmer while matt stroked his length a few times. a guttural moan came from his throat as sticky white fluid shot from his tip in lines, coating the soft skin of your ass.

then, he just lifted himself off the couch to stand beside your still-trembling form, not even phased by the desperate look you gave him—a silent plea for him not to just leave you like this. he cleared his throat, picking his clothing off your floor, “getting dressed so i can pick up mazzy,” he replied coldly, a groan coming from you when it slowly started to sink in that he was dead serious about this, “clean y’self up before we get back, m’kay?”

w/c : 1.5k

a/n : first day of my au special and tbh… it wasn’t as bad as i thought it would be 😭 thank you guys again for 2k+ followers, i can’t express how much this means to me !!

-love, your grandma cvnty ☆!

[trashydez]

like a phoenix. (2.7k words)

what if phoenix- instead of being virtually indestructible, actually wasnt? what if he was actually incredibly prone to death, but he just… never stayed dead?

(trigger warning for a multitude of causes of deaths!! some in detail and some not. other tw’s include implied suicide attempts, implied child neglect, derealisation and thinking one is already dead. be warned! take care of yourself!)

at 9, he wakes in his bed after having a high fever and his mom ships him off to school hours after it began. he finds it odd, because last he’d checked his temperature (that morning, when he told his mom he felt like he was going to die and his mom had left to go run errands, barely sparing him a glance), his temperature had been at 107 degrees farenheit. that was definitely high, but after he slipped into unconsciousness, writhing and restless and in a lot of pain, he woke up to his mother checking his temperature and saying he was fine to head off to school. he didnt feel fine, but his temperature had gone down significantly enough that his mother felt like he had no excuse not to go. hes glad he went to school though, even as he shivered, sneezed and sniffled, because there he found a friend in a boy with a funny bowtie and a heart made of gold.

he crunches and chokes on glass shards and poison but doesnt die. the doctors dont find anything wrong with him, aside from feeling a bit ill, so he goes back into the courtroom and dollie is convicted of murder. hes happy his roommate is away for some theatre troupe thing, because the sickness eventually catches up to him and he throws up shards of glass, acid and blood. it cuts into his throat and burns his eyes and he swears, he swears he dies right then and there, freezing and shaking and everything hurts. but when he wakes up hours later, the sun having set and the only light source in his dingy dormroom the moon outside, hes amazed to not feel sick anymore. but the puddle of sludge is drying beside his face and he considers himself lucky, or maybe unlucky, because unlike dahlia’s other victims, he actually lives to tell the tale.

phoenix arrives early to the office, having been in the public library nearby reading a book on reincarnation. he enters the office and promptly has his skull caved into his brain. he does not see his assailant, but when he wakes, theres an oddly dressed girl crying, crouched over his boss’ cold body. he doesn’t think about the drying blood in the back of his head, or how cold mia’s body is (and why he can even tell, considering the fact he has not touched her corpse) or the chapter in the book he’d been reading that talked about quantum immortality— all he thinks of is proving maya fey’s innocence.

as it turns out, being constantly anxious and terrified of mortal peril actually has its perks. maybe the fact he’s a lawyer whose only ever dealt with homicide cases definitely wasn’t benefiting his mental wellbeing either. in any case, its that fear of literally everything and constant feeling of impending doom that makes his body react before his mind does. taser! danger! maya! so, he gets tasered. and it fucking HURTS, but he feels more relieved than frightened as the searing pain shoots through him, because he’d been able to push maya away before von karma got to them both. wasnt a symptom of death by electrocution an overwhelming feeling of helplessness and imminent death? maybe he was going crazy. when he comes back though, its to his head in the lap of a crying spirit medium, so maybe a psychotic break isnt too bad if it means everyone else gets to escape with no damage to their own psyche.

its only after she stops screaming in terror- oh my god, nicks a zombie!! kyahh!!!- and nearly beating him with her bulky magatama necklace, that she tells him what she saw. (“like, there was a sudden bright light and then i realised it was coming from you! but when i tried to touch your glowing skin,” she says it like its the most absurd thing she’d ever seen, which really said something considering the fact she was from a family of people who could channelthe dead “it was HOT! like, japanifornia summer hot! blazing! i was only able to check your pulse after you cooled down a bit…”). maybe its this that makes him less alarmed by the way his skin glowed in the dark of his trashed bedroom, after drinking himself to death following a certain phone call from a terribly sad, newly bossless detective. he doesnt think he can bear the taste alcohol ever again, after that.

maybe the number of times he’s died of blunt force trauma to the head should be a cause for concern, even more so when he wakes up without any of his memories. he’s terrified, and doesnt even knows who he is, until he does, and is able to prove maggey byrde innocent. fun times! he should probably watch out to make sure his next death wasn’t to the head, lest he be as mentally impaired as a number of people liked to say he was… (and he should probably also be concerned by the fact he was already thinking of the next time he’d die, but ah well, blame it on the concussion).

as it turns out, getting whipped to death was not on his list of ways he thought he’d die next, but life liked to mess with him like that, it seemed. still, dragging his delirious self to the bathroom of his office to try and save the infected wounds from killing him wasn’t all that fun, and he’s immediately reminded of his first death, slow and painful, alone and scared of what came next. he feels bad for feeling relieved when maya shows up and screams upon seeing the state he and the bathroom (that’d he’d accidentally trashed when his legs gave out after he opened the door, a number of bottles fallen to the floor beside him) were in. he stops her from calling the police- there was no point, he didn’t have much time left. but when she asks what she could do, he goes quiet. (…just… stay here? i dont- he coughs up a distinctly red shade of spit. maya makes a noise between a choked cry and a whatthefuckwhatthefuckwhatthefuck. but phoenix was shivering worse now, and hugs himself tigher. i dont want to die alone.) so she stays with him, on the cold bathroom floor, as his labored breathing eventually slows. when he awakens, he finds maya asleep leaning against him, and promises to get her burgers as a thank you.

who knew death by a monkey throwing a giant bronze bust of max galactica at you could happen? at this point, he’s almost glad he was basically immortal, because there was no way in hell he’d allow his autopsy report to say ‘cause of death: monkey manslaughter’! edgeworth would laugh himself to tears if he saw! not that he could see. or cry, because he was dead. and not coming back. damn.

so edgeworth isnt dead! yippee? he thought it was his thing to get reanimated after death, not edgeworths. when he saw him, standing in the middle of the police department, alive and breathing and very much not dead, he nearly started laughing. he must’ve finally gone insane! curse the amount of times he’d died of brain related injuries, not that he knew how many of them there were at this point. he might actually have laughed a bit, because pearls was looking at him like he was losing it (he was) but he couldnt really bring himself to care as he had more pressing issues at hand, like saving his best friend from a crazy serial killer holding her hostage, and punching his other best friend in the face for faking his own death (because really, dying was his thing! not edgeworths!). and if he pulls edgeworth into a hug immediately after, throwing caution in the wind (you only live once, right?), the warmth- a normal, human temperature, unlike his burning hot when he came back from death- is enough to stabilise his harried mind for just a moment, before he has to return to his guilty client and his hopeless situation.

by some crazy turn of events, he actually doesnt die from having boiling hot coffee thrown at his face. it burns, and maya screams when she sees the boils on his face after that first trial with godot, but after throwing a wet towel over his face and putting him in timeout on the sofa for 12-hours, the burns go away as if they were never there. he fell asleep at some point, and after alot of back and forth debate, they eventually came to the conclusion that 1. his body heat rising to burning levels when he dies must have caused his body has to grow immune to heat and 2. since sleep was like a ‘temporary death’, a ‘temporary wound’ would just heal like it did when he died of normal wounds, right? he didn’t want to dwell on it too much, because maya was looking at him like she wanted to test that theory for real, so he quickly changes topics before things got out of hand.

so their theory on the immunity to heat thing was correct! …almost. larry had tried to stop him, but it was fire and he was basically immune to heat, right? nope! his skin burned and boiled but he didn’t die as he tried to run across the burning bridge. even so, nothing hurt more than falling through one of the burnt planks and slamming onto the surface of the freezing cold rushing stream below. luckily the death was near immediate, but unfortunately he came to while in the water still, so he swallowed a sizeable amount of water before paramedics arrived. he hears the doctors find his survival miraculous, despite the scorching hot fever he was now under. he blacks out again, and comes to in the hospital, feeling absolutely terrible.

the horribleness feels familiar though, and when edgeworth walks in, he realises what it must be, when the man presses the back of his hand to his temple and quickly pulls his hand away as if burned. (oh. he thinks, tearing up despite himself. it must be the fever. i’m going to die like this again.) his internal monologue must’ve been external though, because edgeworth balks (‘again?!’). but phoenix was crying in hiccups and sobs, feeling terrible and like he was nine years old again, wishing his mother were there to nurse him back to health like she’d never done before. he faintly hears edgeworth sitting down on his bed and reaches out, gripping the mans waist like it was a lifeline. in a sense, it was. “don’t go.” he whispers, gripping the man tighter like he’d disappear into thin air (again). “please, please don’t go.” in his delirium, he nearly wails in despair when he feels edgeworth move, but he was only moving to readjust himself so he’s lying next to him, their bodies so close that it must burn, but the only sign edgeworth shows that he’s in pain is a wince and the crease of his brow. he allows himself to be cried on, curling a protective arm over phoenix’s burning body. “i- i dont know what’s going on, wright, but i’m not, i’m not going anywhere, okay?” he seems to be attempting exasperation, but it comes out terrified and concerned, but phoenix is fading quickly, so it might just be his waning mind making up things that don’t exist. “i am terrified. your body is life threateningly hot and— wright? wright!”

he comes to with nurses surrounding him, and a distressed edgeworth swearing on his life that that man was dead, his body was seizing and on fire and- and his heart stopped beating! but phoenix couldn’t dwell on it, because the mention of fire immediately brought him back to why he was in the hospital at all. and plus, it gave him the chance to use his best friends sensitive treatment of him afterwards to convince him to play defense attorney, so that was nice. still, he feels like he dies when he finds out dahlia had actually been iris and that godot was actually his dead mentors apparently not dead boyfriend. oh, and he was also a murderer. he also feels like he dies when dahlia- actual, serial killer and dead by execution dahlia, was exorcised from maya’s body. but that had more to do with his soul leaving his body in terror rather than actually dying, so that was a nice change of pace… probably.

later, he’d had to have a conversation with edgeworth to give him an explanation on just what the hell he’d witnessed in that hospital room. although, apparently his re-aliving symptoms must’ve started becoming more dramatic, because miles describes it as his whole body glowing as bright as the sun, and then his eyes opening for a moment to reveal nothing but white, glowing eyeballs with no irises. phoenix has to convince him to still board his flight the day after, that he was okay… probably. maybe not safe, but definitely okay. (still, edgeworth stays the night at his, and they hold eachother close, basking in the shared warmth of two alive bodies in heat equilibrium, listening to eachothers breathing and rhythmic heartbeats, no signs of impending mortality in sight, save for, what did the french call it? la petite morte? most of all, phoenix basks in the promise miles makes to him. “i’m not going anywhere,” he repeats, over and over like he was trying to convince himself as much as he was phoenix. “i’m not going anywhere, i promise.”)

and when he loses his badge, he thinks he really does die, permanent and definitively. he feels far away from his body when the forger is called to the witness stand. feels like a ghost when the council walks out the room and past him, making no eye contact and answering the unanswered question on the tip of his tongue. feels his life crumble to pieces when a blonde man with a pleasent, almost saintly smile gives him the most maddeningly sympathetic look and tells him he is sorry for his loss, as if there really was someone dead. only, the only one dead must’ve been him, because there was no one else there who had just lost their life. he couldn’t even hear himself as he laughed, which turned into sobs, as he excused himself and fleed to his bicycle. not one pedestrian bats an eye at the state he is in, so he must really be a ghost, cycling past speeding cars and large trucks and buses as if it couldn’t kill him, because he wasn’t there, he was already dead. when he reaches his office, freezing and quiet and dreadfully void of any human life, he passes by the window his boss had died at and sees his reflection, unkempt and red faced and badgeless. he wants to scream, but he couldn’t because no one would hear a ghost scream, so instead he just sits down in the spot his mentor had lost her life in, and mourns.

when two weeks later a warm, incredible alive life falls into his hands in the shape of a little girl with a too big tophat and a joy for being alive that he’d lost years ago, well, maybe he is glad that he couldn’t die for real, if only to be able to wake up to that beaming grin as his little girl tries to pull her daddy out of bed because she’d made breakfast, and it only smells burnt because of the magic something she’d added as a special ingredient. he eats it, char and all, because he can’t taste the burnt-ness of it anyway, but he could taste the love and care put into it, and that was more than enough to take his mind away readying himself for his next death. instead, he thinks of his daughter’s next performance at the wonder bar, and their next trip to kurain, and miles’ next visit. for once, he thinks of living.

[jaminster]

L4TOBER (2024)

Welcome to L4TOBER 2024! The first ever list I've done for any fandom, but I hope y'all will like it and write/draw the shit out of these prompts.

These ideas are specifically directed for the Left 4 Dead/2 fandom, so I'd appreciate it if you wrote under that!

You can find the collection here, where the rules, questions and answers are written. However, if you have any questions or anything, please don't hesitate to contact me via Tumblr. Just write a comment beneath this post or PM me and I'll answer whenever I have the availability. (Also, shoutout to @daddyellis, @xpouii and others for helping with ideas! Wouldn't have made this without their help.)

L4TOBER 2024 LIST:

Anxiety

Nightmares

Blinded

Separated

Disorientated

Troubled Waters

The Storm

One Last Time

Flashbacks

Regret

Betrayal

TAAAAAAANK!

Mud Stuck (Stuck In The Mud)

Tongues Tied

Hypothermia

Last Meal

Mirage

Friendly Fire

CEDA

Pills

Surprise Attack!

Almost There!

Three Bullets

Love Tunnel (Tunnel of Love)

Dead End

Sick Burn

Paralysis

Fever

Infected

Loss

The Sacrifice

[darksturnz]

copying/taking inspo from someone else fic/au.

i *believe* @bernardsbendystraws has an post about it (here) but apparently some people still aren't understanding it and still want to steal entire fics/au’s, so let's talk about it again 😸! 

COPYING & INSPIRATION:

they are two very DIFFERENT things.

The definition of COPYING is the act of reproducing, imitating, or duplicating something. It involves presenting the work as your own, either intentionally or unintentionally. imo plagiarism would be the 'big word" for this, but let's just stick with copying.

1 Direct copying: Reproducing text, images, or other content word-for-word without credit. EXAMPLE: Taking a paragraph from someone’s blog and adding it to your fic without mentioning the source. OR using dividers someone else created.

2. Paraphrasing without citation: Rewriting someone else’s ideas in your own words without acknowledging the original source. EXAMPLE: Rewriting a section of a fanfic in your own words but keeping the rest the same and not giving credit to the original author.

3. Using someone else’s designs or creations: Copying art, music, or inventions without authorization. EXAMPLE: Copying an entire blog layout and not crediting them. 

The definition of INSPIRATION is the process of being mentally stimulated to do or create something, often driven by admiration, ideas, or emotions. When it comes to finding inspiration from someone else's work, it means using their ideas, style, or concepts as a spark or starting point for your own unique creation.

1. Drawing influence: Appreciating aspects of another person's work-like their themes, tone, or techniques-and incorporating similar energy or ideas into your work in a way that is original and personal. EXAMPLE: You love the way an author builds suspense in their stories, so you use a similar pacing technique in your thriller but with your own plot and characters.

2. Transformative creativity: Taking what resonates from someone else's work and reinterpreting it, adding your own voice, perspective, or innovation. EXAMPLE: Inspired by a story about the going to the beach, you write a story about a secret cave they found on the trail there that explores completely different themes and ideas.

3. Acknowledging admiration: While the inspiration may stem from someone else's work, the outcome remains distinct and new, not a direct imitation or replication. EXAMPLE: In your book’s foreword, you mention how a filmmaker’s (or author) use of color inspired your vivid descriptions, even though your story is entirely your own.

Q & A

Q1: How do I know if someone’s copying me? A: Here’s a few steps I use:  1.If it wasn’t sent to you, have someone else read both materials and compare them for similarities. 2. Check the dates to see if your work came first. 3. Read their material yourself and see if it’s just a few bits that are similar or if the entire plot, structure, and timeline match yours.

Most importantly, reach out to the suspected author respectfully and clarify with them.

Q2: What do I say when I text them? How do I know if it’s the truth? A: Keep it respectful and avoid accusations. “Hey, I/someone noticed some similarities between our work. I just wanted to check if my story might have inspired yours?” It’s hard to know the full truth, but their response and attitude can give you insight into their intentions.

Q3: What if they don’t respond, lie, or ignore the situation completely? A: If they don’t respond or you feel the conversation doesn’t sit right with you, it’s okay to protect your peace. You can soft block or unfollow them, even without an explanation. Your boundaries matter, and you don’t owe anyone access to your space if you’re uncomfortable.

Q4: How do I ask to use it for inspiration? A: Most authors include details on how they’d like to be approached in their blogs or fic notes. If not, you can politely ask, “Hi, I really love your ___! Would it be okay if I used it as inspiration for my own work? I’d make sure to credit you.”

Q5: How is it considered copying if the trope/plot/pairing has been used for years? A: While common tropes or plots aren’t necessarily unique, the way they’re executed (specific details, character arcs, and dialogue) is. It’s still important to credit the creator if their work inspired you, even if the plot itself is widely used. 

Q6:What if they say no to inspiration and I have no other story ideas? A: If they say no, you should respect their decision and avoid using their AU/plot. Instead, use Google or Pinterest to search up plot/storyline/character ideas. Try creating something original inspired by the those themes or ideas, creativity has no rules.

AUTHORS NOTE: having your work copied and then being lied to over and over again is starting to get annoying and we should be *informative* louder so here's my interpretation of roses post (about copying + how giving credit helps grow your account or that's how i took it) but heavily aimed on some of the experiences i and a few moots have been through!!!

USING TAGS CORRELATED TO MY BLOG/MOOTS BLOGS HAVING ISSUES WITH COPYING.

[luxu1230]

Top Gun Head cannon.

Jake has Dyslexia and is high functioning autistic or has adhd. When he was younger he'd stim by biting himself as his teeth would hurt so as a way to chew something he uses toothpicks which is why he likes carrying them around. They're also great for stabbing himself when he feels overwhelmed to get him to focus and it's not like it leaves a wound. His hyperfixation has changed over the years but being an aviator has never changed.

So then comes his dyslexia.....

Many people think Jake got his call sign due to leaving people behind and Rooster calling him that after a flight at Top gun before the mission. While that is the place the others found out his new call sign it was actually his co who would call him that rooster overheard it one day and completely came to the wrong conclusion. While Jake was good at planes his spelling sucked no matter how much he tried to practice his brain wouldn't work. So when his co read his report once he said it was like a game of hangman trying to find the correct words and told Jake that if he came to him he'd write his reports if the hangman told him what to write......

It wasn't until two months later that his co died and the call sign Hangman became nothing more than a bitter reminder of someone he lost. His call sign story completely wrong..... Fuck you Rooster.

Fast forward a few years and the story comes out and Rooster now feels like an utter dick he turned a joke into a complete landslide of which put a rift between Hangman and anyone he worked with practically leaving him friendless bar Javy.

So he tries to fix it and eventually he does, he even gets a husband out of it.

I also feel like Maverick would have noticed signs of Deslexya since he once had to help Goose with his reports as his spelling was terrible due to it. So when he figured it out he unknowingly offers the same offer the co did before... You speak I write.

[danphanwritingprompts]

Danny learns that Vlad actually was married at one point.

[sturnioz]

shy!reader meets up with nick for a little ice-cream date.

you stare down at the phone in your hands, the nae of the ice-cream parlour glowing brightly on the screen. after a moment, you look up at the sign in front of you, chewing the inner skin of your cheek as you double check that you're in the right place.

the words match perfectly, and the photo you found online mirrors the shop exactly. yet, as you scan the area and look through the clear windows, your heart sinks — there's no sign of nick anywhere.

panic rises in your chest, and you instinctively take a hesitant step back, ready to bolt until a loud, familiar voice yells from behind you, cutting through your spiralling thoughts.

you turn, your pulse quickening as you catch sigh of nick tumbling out of an uber, his foot catching on the curb. he stumbles dramatically, throwing an exaggerated glare at the ground as if the concrete were to blame for his mistake before adjusting the strap of the tote bag slung over his shoulders, striding towards you with a grin spreading across his face.

"sorry," he apologies to you immediately, and you open your mouth, prepared to reassure him that it's no big deal, even though you're not quite sure what he's apologising for. but he continues, "uber took like eight wrong turns to get to this fucking place, i thought i was getting kidnapped. so, it's his fault i'm late. you haven't been waiting long, right?"

"no," you reply with a shake of your head, managing a small smile as the tension in your chest eases slightly. "i just got here too."

"thank god." nick breathes out a sigh of relief, running his fingers through his mullet and adjusting his sunglasses before leading you toward the entrance, him mostly taking the lead while you follow closely behind.

as you step inside the parlour, the sweet aroma of waffle cones and fresh ice-cream greets you, and the air is filled with the cheerful chatter of other customers and workers. your stomach rumbles in anticipation of the treat ahead as you walk up to the counter beside nick, who is already scanning the colourful flavours displayed in the glass case.

his eyes widen as he points out various options, and you listen intently as he describes each flavour and shares how some are more sweeter than others, how chocolate chips taste better with these flavours, and how this flavour is better plain.

after considering the options, you finally settle on strawberry and vanilla. nick chooses bubblegum, the bright blue swirls matching the stripes on his shirt and the lenses of his sunglasses which makes you smile softly, and you feel even more relaxed when nick takes charge of ordering what you both want, allowing you to stand beside him in silence.

as nick pays for the ice-creams, you immediately reach into your purse to grab the cash you set aside, but he scoffs and sways your hand away as if you've just offended him, insisting that he's fine with buying and your cheeks warm at his generosity.

with the ice-cream cups in hand, you follow him to a cosy corner of the parlour, settling down into the booth opposite each other. you grab your plastic spoon, swirling it through the creamy ice-cream before taking your first bite.

"right?" nick grins as he sees your reaction; your eyebrows raising and eyes widening at how delicious it is. "i told you. this place is fucking magical."

you take another spoonful, trying your best to keep the conversation flowing. "do you come here a lot?"

"sometimes, but there's this one dessert stall in the city that's just as good. makes the best chocolate fudge and cherry sundae," he explains to you, and you perk up a little but, knowing exactly which place he's talking about.

"i like that one too."

he raises his eyebrow, "you know it?"

"yeah," you hum softly with a nod. "chris brought me there."

suddenly, nick's ice-cream filled spoon pauses halfway to his mouth, and he stares at you. you frown at his sudden silence, feeling the weight of his gaze, and you awkwardly take another bite of your ice-cream, your gaze flicking away as you struggle to handle being stared at.

nick lowers his spoon from his mouth, pointing it at you instead. "chris brought you to that dessert stall?" you nod your head slowly in response. "and he bought you one?"

"no," you reply, your voice steady but quiet. "he got one for himself but he let me try it."

"chris shared with you?" nick presses, seemingly baffled by this information. "like, we're talking one spoon shared between you two?"

"yeah," you nod again, chewing on your bottom lip as you gather your thoughts, admitting confusingly at this topic. "i.. don't understand what's happening right now."

nick just hums at that, his expression shifting as he takes a moment to process your words, studying you for a few seconds longer before he resumes in eating his ice-cream. now, you're stuck staring at him, wondering about the implications of his constant questioning while you mindlessly swirl your spoon around the cup.

"speaking of the city," nick begins, suddenly changing the subject, catching you off guard. "kitty and i are heading there this weekend, you should come—actually, neither of us are taking no for an answer. you are coming."

you chuckle lightly, your cheeks feeling warm as you ask, "why are you going?"

"i need to take photos for this project i'm doing for my class, and she needs to thrift some clothes and pick up other supplies for hers," he explains to you simply. "we're gonna make a day out if it, y'know? shopping, dinner, all that shit."

"i don't know.." you murmur, hesitation creeping into your voice.

"i'm not taking no for an answer," nick deadpans, blinking at you with feigned seriousness that makes you want to laugh. "our company is literally better than that frat house chris has got you cooped up in every weekend. you need a break."

you can't lie, a break does sound really nice. the overwhelming energy of the frat parties, filled with the frat brothers and other students, often leaves you feeling absolutely drained. and more often than not, you always find yourself retreating to chris' bedroom to get away from the chaotic mess when it gets too much.

"i'll think about it.."

"less thinking, more doing," nick counters, a grin spreading across his face as he leaves his spoon hanging from his mouth, his hands diving into his tote bag and you watch with curiosity as he pulls out his digital camera. "smile, bun. i'm taking proof of you finally leaving the frat house today. this is monumental as fuck."

© STURNIOZ

[endereies]

Skater!Chris teaching Tomboy!Reader how to skate

"Place your right leg just there, on the bolts." Chris had abandoned his own skating routine as soon as you showed up to see him. What was initially a drop by when you had some free time turned into a skating step-by-step tutorial.

"Uh- like this?" Your right foot landed roughly where he pointed out, perpendicular to the board.

"Nope, do it straight." Without another word, he lightly tapped your ankle and shifted it so that it was straight with the board with your foot directly in the centre of the bolts. It was different than what you had seen before.

Chris noticed your confusion and giggled slightly. "It is straight, promise." He paused, allowing you to focus on the board and the feeling of your foot under it. The shoes you wore definitely weren't the right pair for this sport, considering that they were also new. However, you were as keen as he was and ignored the creasing by your toes.

"And your left foot is the one that goes horizontal." This time, he didn't grab your foot and focused on keeping you steady. One hand rested on your hip whilst the other griped your hand tight so that you were balanced. You breathed in before lifting your left foot and putting it on the back. It had landed mostly central to the board, so with a stare from Chris, it shimmied backwards to the second line of bolts.

"Good.. wanna move?" Your head flitted up in his direction, a questioning glare on your face. He didn't deter at all and gave you his same wide grin as before. "Move? What and fall?" You spoke as if it was inevitable thay you'd hurt yourself.

"Satis. I got you. Do you really think I'd let you fall?" His eyes were full of trust. The tone of his voice made your heart flutter - comforted further by his smile.

Hesitantly, you nodded, flicking your gaze between him and the board. Chris knew that at this point, all you needed was support. When your foot lifted from the board and placed back on the floor, the grip on his hand tightened. He slowly moved forward, giving you some space to move forward while being in your line of sight.

Your eyes met his, then he nodded to you, one last nudge. The board wobbled when you pushed off, everything, including you, moving quicker than you anticipated. You quickly panicked and attempted to seize any movements to a halt. It was in vain as your foot pushed itself from the board, driving it faster than you were moving. The foot that started the moving had cemented itself to the floor by now, but the rest of your body continued to fall. Both your eyes clenched shut and your hands instinctively pushed back to catch yourself. But you never do. Instead a tight grip wraps around your waist and the small of your back, protecting you from any fall at all.

"Woah hey- you're okay you're okay" The sounds of giggles and laughter takes you away from Chris' voice and you open your eyes to see a few people looking at you with smiles on their face. Worry fills your eyes until Chris stands in your eye line.

"Don't focus on them, focus on me. Alright? Don't... don't look at them." You realise that trying to get a better look at the group was futile and you switch your focus to Chris. His smile gave you reassurance over the situation until you realised that the board you flew off was no where to be seen.

"Hey." He snaps and gets your attention back onto him again. "Forget the people, forget the board. You did good for your first time. You just have to trust your ability on it. And well... bend your legs but baby steps!"

He runs off to retrieve the board that travelled to the other side of the skatepark and returns with it gliding under his feet. Chris makes his way back to your side with your gaze set onto him in complete awe. You sighed at the unintentional showing off and shuffled your feet.

A soft chuckle left his lips as the board balanced steady on the back two wheels, but that was quick to fall to silence when he noticed your expression. Carefully, he raised his hand to your shoulder and dragged you to his. While looking down at you he grinned warmly which was infectious as always. "One more time?"

You didn't want to turn him down, yet the fear of falling repeatedly wasn't your ideas of a fun time. "Maybe later, Chris. I uh- I have stuff to do." Your voice barely travelled to his ears. Once he heard the word 'later', he ran with it.

"Consider it a date! Is seven okay?" The scraping of the wheels interrupted his sentence. "What."

"A date, me 'n you. Tonight. Seven." He wasn't saying it like a question but a statement. You had no choice to stand there with a stupid grin on your face, letting out a breathy chuckle as he returned to his friends.

This is an Au collab with @strnilolover find her stuff [here!]

[myokk]

Eloise is VERY studious but it’s just because she needs to prove herself. She’s very insecure that she started at Hogwarts so late & studies like crazy to catch up & so nobody can ever doubt her😤😤 She HATES some classes though and will do the bare minimum for them and is fine with getting a possible T in her OWLs (Beasts), unless she deems the subject important somehow (Divination), but with subjects she LOVES (Transfiguration and Arithmancy) she does a lot of extra work outside of what’s necessary.

She’s never been able to stay awake longer than 2 minutes in History of Magic🥲 she swears Professor Binns infuses his voice with some sort of somnolence charm…

Her two best friends are Imelda and Anne😇🙏they drag her along EVERYWHERE with them

[lavandermix]

Just a silly Fanfic Idea

-Shortly after danny is adopted by Bruce Wayne for any reason-

Danny: hey, you know, since you like to collect traumatized and neglected kids

Bruce: I don't-

Danny: I know this kid, Timmy, he's eleven, his parents barely look at him or remember he exists- oh! and he has blue eyes, the others told me that's a bonus point!

Bruce: danny, it's not-

Danny: his babysitter threatens him with chainsaws and flamethrowers and in fact, now that I think about it he's too small and skinny for his age...

Bruce: bring him here, I'll get the papers ready.

And the Timmy Turner is adopted too for the Waynes.