#nightmare is in the background resting as he's too old for action

[phantom-of-the-ruckus]

i am doing my best to get the fic done before scarecrow week, but prop will be posting a day or two later XD

Still, to keep my sanity and not get overly stressed. Here's an ending I wrote where Jon talks with his crow "Craw the Crow"

[alisonxmorgan]

⸻⸻ ✦ SOPHIE THATCHER, CISFEMALE, SHE/HER ✦ ALISON MORGAN the TWENTY-TWO year old has been in the QZ for ONE MONTH. The TRADER is said to be RESOURCEFUL and IMPULSIVE but I guess we’ll find out for ourselves.

STATS

Name: Alison Jade Morgan

Birthday: May 19th, 2001

Zodiac: Taurus

Nicknames: Ali, Lissey

Hair: Naturally brown, bleached.

Eyes: Blue

Height: 5'2

Sexuality: Bisexual BACKGROUND

TW: Murder, death

Growing up, Alison didn't dream of being an actress or a singer or anything grand like that; she grew up wanting to protect and provide for her family, just like her father and her older brothers did for her. Every time they left the safety of whatever temporary home they had found she would beg to go, only to be able to count on her fingers the amount of times her family had obliged.

Like a lot of children out there, she by no means had a normal life or a normal childhood. Her family moved around in constant search of the next safe haven. Alison knew nothing of stability or routine as it was always being disrupted.

TW: Death The first tragedy Alison met was during her teenage years; she had been left alone with her mother, the rest of her family out scavenging, when a clicker attacked. Everything seemed to go in slow motion, with Alison doing the only thing she could think of; hiding until it was over. While the action may have saved her life it was a cowardly one she would never learn to forgive herself for. It felt awful to know her life had been spared when her mother's wasn't, and although her brothers were the ones tasked with finishing her off before she could become one of the infected herself, Alison always held herself as the one responsible.

Ridden with her own guilt over what had happened Alison began to struggle through everyday life. Tasks as simple as sleeping became chores, her rest plagued by nightmares of the attacks. The only time her mind seemed to clear was when she was allowed on scavenger hunts with her elder siblings.

For months this continued, leaving Alison so wrapped up in herself and her survivor's guilt that life around her became a blurry sort of haze. She barely noticed her father's own decline until it was already too late and he, too, had slipped away from them.

Disaster seemed to roll in waves for this family, and it didn't end there. A month later, on their way to the next sanctuary, Alison was separated from her brothers in a terrible storm. She did as much as she could, searching for them desperately until she finally came to terms with the fact that she was on her own, and she didn't know the way forward. Later - she had told herself repeatedly, the word being the only thing she had left to cling onto. She would find them later when she was better prepared.

She tried to make her way back to the previous campsite and was instead met by a generous family with a child her own age. Their hearts ached with sympathy for all she had been through and they came to the decision that they would take her in, on the pretense that it was just until the weather improved.

The longer Alison stayed the more comfortable she got, until this temporary stop became something more permanent. It wasn't that she had given up on finding her brothers, but it was a long journey to go alone; it would be stupid, anyway, to leave the safety of this camp when she had everything she could possibly need, and so she stayed. She never forgot her true family, but it was clear she was becoming part of a different one.

For years they taught the girl everything they knew and treated her as their own. As time passed she became a different person, changing everything about herself in an attempt to distance herself from the coward she had once been. She got rid of her old clothes as she outgrew them, switching them out for whatever she could find, and bleached her hair whenever she was able to get her hands on any sort of supplies.

All the while Ali became inseparable from the other child. They trained together, ate together, and even slept in the same beds together. They truly never left each other's sides, and together they were two halves of the same whole. Things were as perfect as they could possibly be in a world like hers until, inevitably, tragedy struck again.

While the makeshift siblings were out scavenging their camp was raided. The couple Ali had come to know and love as parents were killed trying to defend it. They stayed behind a few days after, mourning and scraping by, but the time came when she could no longer stay. They had lost everything in the raid, and if she planned on surviving she needed to move.

It took her no time at all to decide that this was the time; she needed to make her way to Dallas or die trying. Her brothers would be there waiting, assuming they made it safely, and even if they hadn't it was still the safest place she knew of.

PSD credit

[palpipeen]

Koofin's Masterlist

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Updated 04/06/23 Recently Updated: Caf Deilvery Service Rewrite (Preview)

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Guide: 🥵 - NSFW (explicit/NC-17) 😳 - NSFW (implied/PG-13 to R) 😭 - Angst 💖 - Fluff 💀 - Major Character Death 🪦 - Background Character Death 🤔 - AU 🤕 - Physical Violence

The Clone Wars Era

The 501st ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

CT-6116/Kix - Patience 😳 Kix teaches you a lesson you won't soon forget. GN Reader, Teasing, Implied Heavy Petting AO3 Link || Link

The Coruscant Guard ∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

CC-1010/Fox - Caf Delivery Service 🥵😭💀 Taking the job to be the Coruscant Guard's personal caf delivery service would never bite you in the ass. Right? AFAB/Fem Reader, Office Shenanigans, Fox is Sleep Deprived, Unexpected Flirtation, Explicit Sex AO3 Link || Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 CC-1010/Fox - Earned It 🥵💖 Well well well, if it isn't the consequences of your actions. Those actions being surprising Fox with a strip-tease and some lovely lingerie. AFAB/Fem Reader, Office Shenanigans, Fox is a Bastard and Reader is a Brat, Explicit Sex, Spanking One Shot CC-1010/Fox - Overthinker 😭🪦 You come home to find Fox waiting for you. And a lot more. AFAB/Fem Reader, Allusions to Suicide, PTSD Attack, Anxiety Attack One Shot CC-1010 | Fox - Showing Up 😭🤕 Fox and you have a date, but he's a bit late...surely nothing wrong happened, right? AFAB/Fem Reader, Domestic terrorism, Violence, Anti-clone rhetoric One-Shot

104th Battalion

* . °•★|•°∵ ∵°•|☆•° . *

CC-3636 || Wolffe - Back Massage Thot 😳 When the Commander of the 104th clearly needs a little TLC to help relieve some of his stress, you’re all too eager to offer your clever hands. Gender Neutral Reader, Back Massage for the Big Bad Wolffe, Teasing, Wolffe being the big bastard he is Thot

Pit Crew Squadron (OCs)

° ∆ ------ ••• ----- ∆ °

Pit Crew Intro - Link

CT-3309 || Riggs - Nightmares 😭 Riggs has a lot of damage that lingers. OC centric, nightmares, the horrors of war Drabble

Misc/Multiple CT-1307 || Tock & CT-3309 || Riggs (Other characters mentioned) - The Story of Tick and Tock 😭🪦 When Riggs's sergeant opens up, he doesn't expect for a tragedy to be dropped in his lap. Lucky for him there's whiskey to help cope. OC centric, death, grief, disassociation, alcohol, alcoholism (hinted), violence Link

Misc Groups

══✿══╡°˖✧✿✧˖°╞══✿══ Hardcase & CC-1010 || Fox & CC-3636 || Wolffe Cuddle Bug Headcanons 😳💖 Cuddle Headcanons with the boys, just what it says on the tin~ Dry humping, mentions of racier things to come Link

CC-1001 || Fox & Hardcase & CC-3636 || Wolffe & CT 7567 || Rex Life Day with the Boys 🥵💖 Life Day with some amazin' lads who deserve a good holiday. General smuttiness, fluff, holiday themes Link

Rebels Era

·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙

CC-3636 || Rebels!Wolffe - Old Men, Old Habits The retired Commander of the 104th keeps showing up in your medcenter, and now you're posted on watching him while he's on bed rest for the next month or so. What could possibly go wrong? Gender Neutral/AFAB Reader, Slow Burn, Wolffe is a Grouch AO3 Link || Part 1 | Part 2 | Part ???

Character Alphabets

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚ ---- ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

Hardcase: SFW || NSFW

[redrobin-detective]

because I could not stop for death

because I could not stop for death / he kindly stopped for me / the carriage held but just ourselves / and immortality ~ Emily Dickinson

Danny Fenton was dying, properly this time.

Somehow, in the back of his head and in his worst nightmares, he knew it would end this way: bleeding on the floor of his parents’ lab where it had all began. He was so hot he felt like his skin was on fire, blood and ectoplasm were dripping all over him and his lungs and heart were working overtime to try in vain to keep him alive a moment longer. He’d imagined at the time that there would be more screaming but death, in the end, was turning out to be a quiet little affair. A lonely table set for one.

“Danny, Danny come on, you-you gotta slow down your breathing, just relax, for me, please,” Sam moaned, more than making up for his lack of noise. She was shaking and touching him all over, his chest, his face, his hair. Normally she jumped right into action but she had to know, deep down, that there was nothing she could do. All that was left was to watch her panic and cry, it wasn’t his favorite image. 

“Vlad!” He heard Tucker scream cry into the phone, “please it’s Tucker, Danny’s dying I think. The Fentons had some new invention, something about his core, please we don’t know what to do!” 

Ugh Vlad, he was probably going to be so happy Danny was on his way out. He wasn’t looking much forward to his last images being his archenemy gloating. Tucker hung up and reached down to grasp Danny’s hand so hard it hurt. “Don’t worry dude, Vlad’s coming. He knows so much about you half ghosts that you’ll be fixed up on no time.” Right, Danny was already dead. If calling Vlad, feeling like he did something, helped Tucker move on then he’d deal with it.

Danny tilted his head to the side where Sam’s fingernails were carding through his hair. It was getting harder to see with the blood pouring out of his eyes but he looked at her, and tried to memorize her face. He’d never been able to tell her how much he loved her, that any day spent with her was a blessing. Tucker too, his best bro and a part of his soul. His best friends in the whole wide world, through thick and thin. God, he was going to miss them.

“Glurk,” he said, trying to convey those feeling but the fluids in his mouth and airway made it impossible. “Blerh.”

“Shh shh shh,” Sam soothed, “it’s okay, don’t try to talk.”

“Daniel!” He heard Vlad’s voice shriek as he materialized in front of the portal. Sam and Tucker were violently pushed out the way. Danny wanted to be angry at his loved ones being taken away in his final moments but anger was for the living, he barely had the energy to breathe. This death was too long and too short all at once. He made eye contact with Vlad who all at once lost the frantic edge to his tone and and instead knelt on the floor. “Oh my dear boy. What did they do to you?”

“What is going on?” Sam demanded, shoving her way back in. Danny was glad, he could see again like this. “Why aren’t you doing something!”

“There’s nothing to be done,” Vlad said in a flat, monotone, he picked up one of Danny’s hands and patted it gently. “His core is dying, it’s like a ghost’s heart. It contains their very essence, it is from which everything they are comes from. If Jack and Maddie somehow disrupted it then there’s nothing anyone can do to save him.”

“But he’s human too,” Tucker defended, grabbing Danny’s other hand. His human warm skin burned but the contact felt so good, he twitched his fingers closer to his friend’s. “He-he doesn’t need a core, he’s already got a heart. So, so he doesn’t have powers, we can do normal again.”

“You-” Vlad hissed before taking a calming breath. “The accident that made Daniel like this irreparably altered him. His core was as much a part of keeping him alive as his other organs, without it, his body is shutting down.” Vlad turned down to look Danny in the eye and saw true, genuine grief in those hateful red eyes. 

“I cannot imagine the agony you are going through, I’m so sorry. I’d say it will be over soon but,” a hitch that sounded almost like a sob if it was coming from anyone other than Vlad. “But you’ve hovered on the edge of death for years, son, and you’ve always been such a fighter. You have minutes at most but those minutes are an eternity when you’re suffering.”

Sam and Tucker’s sobbing blended together in the background, Vlad was saying something with a miserable, stunned expression. The swirling of the portal in the background seemed louder than anything, louder than his heart beat pounding and pounding as it ran it’s last race. 

“Daniel, Danny,” he focused his eyes back on Vlad who had a stubborn, unhappy set to his brow. “Do you want me to make the pain stop? An ectoblast to your chest will end your life instantly.”

“Don’t you dare touch him,” Sam shrieked, coming back into view and looking like she was trying to fight Vlad off. “You do anything to him and I’ll kill you!” Tucker just sat and stared at him, like he too was trying memorize Danny’s face.

“It’s a mercy, Samantha or do you want his last moments on earth to be drowning on the blood in his lungs.”

“Sam, he has a point. I don’t- I don’t think we can fix this.”

“No! No we always fix things, I’ll do it myself if I have to!”

Danny’s vision was starting to go, more black than anything else. He closed his eyes and readied himself for the inevitable. 

“Time Out,” Danny opened his eyes and found he was no longer in pain. He was standing up and apart from where he’d previously been lying. Sam had her hands in Vlad’s face and the older hybrid was snarling something at her. Tucker was midmotion trying to stand up, presumably to get Sam but the three of them were frozen in the moment. Danny turned and found Clockwork floating, looking very out of place in his parents lab. “Good evening, Danny.”

“You that short on cash that you work part time as a grim reaper?” Danny quipped out of habit. He looked down at his body and grimaced a bit, that wasn’t a pretty sight. No doubt traumatizing for Tucker and Sam. God how were they going to explain this to his parents? “Gonna ferry me across the River Styx? I don’t have two pennies but I think I have a bloodied $10 on me.”

“You’re core is dying and you have 17 seconds left in this world before all your organs give out and finish the process you began when you turned on your parent’s ghost portal,” Clockwork explained as he changed into child form. 

“O-okay,” Danny said shakily, trying to be brave even when he was so, so scared. He was going out whether he wanted it or not but he refused to leave crying. “Nice of you to come say goodbye then but, uh but unless you have something to say then you should let me go back. No one knows better than me that you can’t outrun death. Thanks but I’m uh I’m ready.”

Clockwork stared at him for a bit, not sure how long, time was weird like this but he changed forms a few times. “You’re quite the remarkable young man, Danny Fenton.”

“Uh thanks,” Danny added, once more looking at his body which had, according to Clockwork, a 17 second expiration date. “What’s going to happen? Am I going to become a ghost? Does heaven or hell exist for someone like me?”

“I don’t get to decide what happens, I merely see options,” Clockwork stated easily, taking his time. “If you die naturally you’ll become ghost, a mere shadow of who you are now and one who would fade fairly quickly. You don’t have strong enough anger or regrets to tie you in the real world for long.” Not great but okay he supposed, hell for his friends and family though. “You could let Plasmius deliver his mercy kill, destroying what’s left of your ghost core and ensuring you do not come back.” Better, probably won’t help the Fruitloop’s instability but he can’t save everyone.

“That one comes with it’s own caveat but I’ll get to that in a moment,” Clockwork explained. “There is a third option where you get up off the floor and walk away.” Danny blinked then looked back at his body which certainly wasn’t walking anywhere but into a plush casket. Clockwork opened his hands and the Ghost King’s Crown materialized in his hands. “If you accept your claim to the King’s Cown, it will revitalize your core and your life would be saved.”

Danny blinked.

“By sealing Pariah Dark, you won by proxy and established a legitimate claim to the throne. The Zone has been without a king for millennia, most have forgotten the old rules. Those who remembered were not too keen on a half-ghost child assuming leadership and kept you in the dark. If Plasmius ends your life then your claim transfers over to him, which he is aware of. It had been his plan all along to trick you into defeating Pariah so he could steal the Crown from you at a later date, a much easier opponent.”

Danny’s mind was overloaded with information, he didn’t know what to focus on first. He stared at his 17 seconds from death face and tried to process it all. Crown? Claim? Vlad?

“Of course,” Clockwork tutted, “he didn’t plan on your dying and in such a gruesome fashion. If he kills you and takes your claim, he would spend his remaining years ruling the Ghost Zone in a just, controlled fashion for your memory. He destroys all the stable portals and keeps the ghost and human worlds separate.” Clockwork became and old man and titled his head, “it’s not a bad timeline, all things considered.”

“And if I take it?” Danny asked quietly.

“You’re compassionate, brave and motivated, you have all the makings of a revolutionary king,” Clockwork smiled. “The Zone would experience and unprecedented era of peace, there would be positive interactions between human and ghosts for the first time since life and death split into two. Your name would spoken with reverence for the rest of time.”

“But I don’t want to be king,” Danny frowned.

“I know, I’m sorry,” Clockwork stated. “Which is why I am giving you the choice. If you pass peacefully there will be no one to claim the Crown and life will continue on, ghost attacks and all. If Plasmius kills you, he becomes an effective but unmemorable king. If you take the Crown, you can get the chance to tell Sam and Tucker how much you love them.”

Danny rubbed at his face, he didn’t want to die but he’d be sealing away his entire future with a move like this. He didn’t even know if the Crown would let him go with death, maybe he’d die and be stuck as the Ghost King until his core finally gave out lord in who knows how long. Eternity was an awful long time to carry such a responsibility. He couldn’t bring himself to ask, too afraid of the answer.

“Is there ever a timeline I became an astronaut?” He asked instead. Clockwork hummed, seemingly unsurprised by Danny’s non-sequitur. 

��Yes, in one of the few universes where you never walked into the portal. You never go into space what with human politics putting a halt on the programs but you work for NASA. You leave Amity Park at 17 and don’t come back save for your parents’ dual funeral.” He paused and Danny felt read down to his very bones, “from the moment you became half ghost you were always heading for this moment. The circumstances varied but it always came down to you and the Crown. Time is straining to continue, to see how this drama plays out. Will you accept it and all the joy and grief that comes with it?”

Danny looked over at Vlad, still mid-sneer but there was a scared desperation in his face. He and Vlad sniped at each other all the time but Danny didn’t really hate him and he didn’t think Vlad did either. Leaving him alone, plus making him be king was a heavy burden to put on his enemy. 

Sam and Tuck probably wouldn’t recover from this, he’d put them through so much already but he just knew that they’d never be the same. Could he do that to them? Take the easy way out and leave them to suffer? Mom and Dad didn’t deserve to come home to a dead son, the truth would come out and they’d never forgive themselves. Jazz certainly wouldn’t, she was 2 states over at University but he could already hear her angry, grief-stricken screams. 

Death, death was quiet. It was quiet and merciful and sad, but it was also easy. And Danny Fenton had never once taken the easy route. He reached out and took and the crown before shakily placing it on his head. He gasped, throwing his head back as his core swelled, taking up residence once more right next to his heart. Clockwork smiled, looking like the cat who ate the canary. 

“The Crown of Fire, pardon me the Crown changes with each core, the Crown of Ice is now yours as is the Zone. Your reign begins now but so too does the rest of your life. People are waiting for you. Time in.” Danny slammed back into awareness on the floor of his parents’ lab, the floor he’d almost died on twice. 

He sat up as cold radiated off his body, causing frost to crawl down his arms and along the floor. Sam, Tucker and Vlad, who’d been frozen up until now, jumped back to life. There was a new, familiar weight on his head that he didn’t dare acknowledge. 

He squeezed his eyes shut and said a silent goodbye to a quiet, normal life. It wouldn’t be all bad, he could be happy like this but the Crown still felt like a iron manacle around his neck. But he got used to the ghost powers, he could get used to this too. Maybe one day he won’t look at the stars and say ‘what if?’

“Danny!” Sam shouted, throwing herself into his arms soon followed by Tucker. Their warm weight, their relieved sobs, their shaky breaths in his air, now this was something worth living for. He squeezed them tightly.

“But how dude, you were at death’s door!” Tucker asked, still not letting go.

“You accepted the Crown,” Vlad said evenly, “I wasn’t aware you even knew about your claim. Who told you?”

“You don’t know everything, Vlad,” Danny sighed, sitting himself upright. Ugh his shirt was covered in blood and ectoplasm. He needed to trash these clothes before his parents freaked. And find a way to hide the floating ice crown on his head. 

“Even an old man can be surprised every now and again,” Vlad said wearily. He stood up to his full height before startling Danny by dipping down to one knee. “Then allow me to be the first to welcome my new king and wish him well.”

“I thought you wanted this,” Danny questioned.

“I do, I did,” Vlad said, unusually off balance. “To be quite honest, I’m not sure how to feel about it but, right now, I’m just immeasurably happy you’re alive, little badger. Now I best be off, enjoy your kingdom, my liege, I’ll be sure to come bother you some time soon.” Vlad disappeared in a swirl of pink leaving just him, Sam and Tucker still clinging to him.

Danny may have a kingdom, a job he didn’t want and his whole life decided in a spur of the moment choice, but he also had something very important. He squeezed his friends tightly.

“I love you guys, thank you for being my friends even though I have the worst ideas for activities. Dying? On a Sunday night? How lame is that?” Sam laughed, a bit hysterical but it was real and it made Danny feel weightless. 

“Don’t do that again, buddy,” Tucker breathed into his shoulder. “So you gonna explain what just happened and why you’re apparently the Ghost King or something?”

“Yeah, yeah I will but let’s get changed first. Mom and Dad will be home soon and I think I’m going to need to have a conversation with them about my new job.” 

[alucardownsmyass]

Hi! I'm new to the Hellsing fandom and want to start fanfics for Alucard! I really love the way you write him and you seem to have so much understanding of him so I was wondering if you could help please? So say his bride is a virgin and they are about to bed each other. Would he make sure to turn her into a vampire first? What would he be like and what would their lives possibly be after? If you have any hc's or opinions, I'd love to hear! It's probably very self explanatory but I'm new and he's difficult to write haha! It is okay if you don't want to answer!

WELCOME AND THANK YOUUU! i've been waiting for someone to ask me something like this for so long!! i've never posted them, but i have a bunch of notes written down regarding his lover being untouched. most are from years ago though and need to be edited lmao. i'll type up something new for you that hopefully helps you understand his character a bit more! if not, PLEASE tell my dumbass to redo it.

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just to set you in on some background! being a virgin had so much more meaning back during the times when he was human. the real, historical vlad drăculea literally used to demand that women who lost theirs before marriage suffer impalement, so it's pretty precise how significant one's virginity was to him! 😭 bram stoker of course based his dracula novel on some of the history of vlad iii, so this is probably why the whole 'vampires loving virgins' became a thing. hirano based his version of dracula on both the real vlad and the novel, so this also explains why maintaining your virginity in the hellsing universe is important, and why deflowered humans turn into ghouls. it's a very clever reference imo!

not to mention, it's all just a bunch of religious nature—like where the bible says that you can only participate in sex after marriage, and ancient christianity put virgins on such high pedestals because it was viewed as being pure. of course, vampires are seen as demonic beasts, so that is also where their obsession with virgins stem from—they want to taint their innocence; your typical demon vs. god / good vs. evil trope. but you'll find that alucard is quite far from demonic or evil despite the things he's done. you have to look deep, but there is a layer to him that doesn't make him so much the monster that he thinks he is. he cries, has nightmares, cares for people even if only a few and harbors regrets. monsters don't have, feel or do any of those things.

he'd want his partner's first time to be extremely beautiful and eventful. keep in mind that he was sexually assaulted once; he wouldn't wish what he went through on anyone, so he'd want them to also enjoy their first time because he himself did not get the chance to. if they want him to be gentle, he will. if they request he roughen it up, you bet he will. it's their virginity. he's not going to put himself first during a moment in one's life where he was taught had value. he adores them and wants to show them just how much he does. i have always viewed him as an 'actions speak louder than words' kind of man. perhaps it is rare that he'll say "i love you" but he will damn sure show it.

you also requested headcanons and questioned if he'd turn his lover, so i'll put a few examples below! god, writing them is probably gonna make me tear up lmao. i hope these end up helping you, and thank you for coming to me for the question!

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he'll give you a choice if you want to become a creature of the night or not before he begins, hovering his lips over your fluttering pulse. he'll leave a few kisses against it, just for you to know where his bite shall implant lest you desire vampirism. immortality, in his eyes, is only to be given to those who are deserving—and to him, you deserved his kingdom and more.

say yes, and he will ask if you are sure in your decision one final time. have confidence in your answer and look him in the eyes so he knows for certain that you're willing to place your hand in his for the rest of your life. for eternity. say yes again, and you will feel his hand gently craning your chin to the side for the exposure of your neck. "it's going to hurt at first, my queen, but you wouldn't have come this far if you were unfit of bearing the brunt of a little pain, now, would you?"

if you choose no and wish to remain within the womb of humanity, he will most definitely respect your decision; not only out of love, but because you chose to stay the same. that's something he didn't do in his past, so he admires that. he will be more protective of you, though, since you did not choose to be a vampire and are more vulnerable in comparison.

he appreciates humanity and it's ongoing cycle of ages, and would adore witnessing you grow as the years begin to mold your skin into wrinkles and your hair to grays. even when you become too old that you can barely stand, he will vow to be the reason that you continue to walk. of course, the most difficult part will be having to witness you in your deathbed, but he will always remember you as the light that casted upon his darkness, the one that gave motive for him wanting to walk the dreadful earth for a bit longer. your grave will remain the very first thing he visits every moonrise, a reminder that perhaps, for the first time in his existence, he isn't truly alone.

[shadowsinger11]

Insomniacs In Love

Pairing: George Weasley x Reader

Word Count: 1.6k

Description: Wrote this ficlet for @wand3ringr0s3 's writing challenge. Congrats on your milestone, Haley!! I'm so proud of ya and ily so much girl💕💕

Warnings: Brief descriptions of war

Tags: @spilled-prose @susceptible-but-siriusexual @hufflexpuff @neovannii @jenniweasley @theweasleysredhair @elf-punk @heart-of-tempered-steel @itseatyourdamnapples @aaannabbanana @l0ttadreamz @potter-redheads

Message me to be added!

Masterlist

The white ceiling was staring right back at you.

Your tired eyes had no strength to fight back the hot trail of bitter tears rolling down your cheeks and falling on your pillow. The heavy, cold sheets, tangled between your legs, shrivelled even more under you as you struggled to ease your anxious mind into sleep, but every blink would bring images of explosions and unmoving bodies. The intrusive smell of blood and rotting flesh had been ingrained into your brain for years; the earsplitting, violent screams of terror had become nothing more than a background noise.

Adults and children were fighting side by side, desperately holding onto whatever hope for a future they might have had. The fresh summer soil was soaked in blood, old and young; with a burning passion, you prayed to whoever could hear you, that you wouldn't spot the faces of your loved ones in the sea of corpses that stretched out far into the distance.

There was chaos, and in between - grim visions of morning light.

You couldn't fall asleep, not when you could still vividly picture that night as though it had just been yesterday. Years later, the memory didn't fail to turn you into its slave every time you'd close your eyes.

The moon was wide awake. The air seemed to not be enough for you and the buzzing silence had nearly driven you to the point of insanity when you finally jumped out of your bed. The sharp moonlight caused your silhouette to dance as you walked barefoot out of your bedroom.

It was eerily unsettling to be strolling down the hallway of Fred and George's apartment without being bombarded by cheerful laughter and occasional explosions - there was only creaking of wooden stairs as you walked down to the kitchen. You poured yourself a full glass of cold water and immediately downed it entirely, hoping it would shake off the anxiety bubbling in your stomach.

You took a refill for just in case and sat beside the small kitchen table. You let out a deep breath and rested your head in your palms, shoulders heavy as if the carried the world.

A gentle voice nearly caused you to knock over the glass.

"Trouble sleeping?"

You looked up from your lap to see George standing by the doorway, hands in the pockets of his pajamas. His spiky hair and sleepy gaze let you know he had just woken up, but his expression immediately softened when he noticed your tearful eyes.

You smiled as best as you could, "You have no idea."

George approached you and sat beside you. He moved closer to try to take a better look at your distressed face; he didn't miss the stiffness of your body and the puffiness of your bloodshot eyes. The sight sent an electric shock through him and his heart began to ache.

"You're pretty shaken up, darling. What's wrong?" He asked just above a whisper, as though he was afraid he'd scare you away. He tucked a piece of hair behind your ear and you leaned into his touch, seeking some kind of warmth.

How could you explain to him you were still being haunted by the past? It had been years, why were you still chained by sorrow? You hated yourself for letting it settle in your bones, for not being able to return to the person you once used to be.

George was unharmed and so was his family. You were too. There was no logical reason for you to be thinking about it. Nevertheless, your nightmares were the reason you'd wake up every night in cold sweat, limbs of lead. Yet George didn't know a thing.

"It's nothing to worry about," you assured him despite your stomach twisting at the lie you had just spat out. "Just bad dreams."

"You seem to get a lot of those lately," George stated sympathetically; he could always read you so effortlessly. The sudden vulnerability caused you to shrink further into your chair, a fresh tear rolling down your cheek.

Your friend wiped it away with the pad of his thumb and hummed.

"That's alright. So do I."

"How do you know this about me?" you questioned, more confused rather than embarrassed.

His lips curled up in a tiny, sad smile, "You're not the only one wandering the house at night, sweetheart."

"I didn't know you still dream of… of it," you let out in a moment of realization. You didn't have to say what exactly you were referring to - you shared the same tragic memory.

"Yes, I do," he murmured. "Every night."

Your eyes met his dark brown ones and your heart sank; they were just as tortured as yours, and lacked the spark they once possessed. Never had you believed George would have to feign joy in his lifetime, he was the source of joy to everyone around him. But how could you expect flowers to bloom in a garden that's been burned to the ground?

Silence fell over you. Your eyes burned again.

"You should try to get some sleep," George advised, attempting to mask his hoarse voice, shaking ever so slightly. Your face fell. "I know it might be hard, but you can't risk getting a headache in the morning, you know."

The moon was still shining brightly through the window, illuminating his concerned face and the tears that had already formed in his eyes.

You swallowed hard.

"You're right. But I don't really want to go. It's just…" you sighed. Your hands were trembling. "It feels kinda lonely up there."

George nodded in understanding; there was no judgement in the way he observed you. He himself had spent way too many cold, sleepless nights. Fighting the same demons as you. 

It hurt him beyond measure to know you too were being held hostage by the weight of the past; the past which was robbing you both of your future. But what hurt him more was his inability to help you. He desperately yearned to heal you of your misery and hear your laughter, the laughter that had made him fall for you long before he even knew what love was.

The redhead was suddenly struck by an idea and his shoulders relaxed, a small smile causing his dimple to appear.

"I can go to bed with you, if that's okay with you, of course. Only until you fall asleep, that is. Then I'll go back to my room."

Your instinctive reaction was to refuse, but you stopped yourself before you could respond. Surely it wouldn't be so bad to have company, would it? It didn't seem like George was only doing it out of pity either; he genuinely cared about you and had your best interest in mind.

"You can say no, it's fine," said George when he didn't receive a reply. "I don't mean to make you uncomfortable."

"It's okay with me, I promise," you mirrored his smile. "Shall we go?"

You rose to your feet and headed towards your bedroom upstairs, George following closely behind. He couldn't recall a previous time when he had been in there, and he was pleasantly surprised to see how you had changed the design to your liking after you had moved in to live with the twins. The room looked cozy and truly felt like... you.

You were the first to climb into the bed and scooted over to make room for George's long legs. The mattress sank under his weight and he pulled the covers over the two of you, making sure he didn't take too much of them. George then rolled over to the opposite side, not wishing to invade your personal space.

Despite being taken aback by his action, you did the same - if that was the closest you'd get to being together with him, so be it.

You pulled the blanket over your shoulder and closed your eyes, but alas, your lungs constricted with anxiety. The intrusive silence let your mind wander back to memories you had been trying so hard to push away. The empty space behind your back was cold.

Less than an hour later, you were still as awake as you could be. Your friend was a quiet sleeper and thus you had no idea if he was asleep yet or if he was about to drift off. Nevertheless, you still felt guilty for whispering.

"Georgie?"

Rustling in the bedsheets.

"Hm?"

You wettened your lips and timidly asked, "Can I hold your hand?... For just a bit?"

George turned around and you expected to see him scowl for being woken up like that, especially for a thing as silly as your request. But you were met with such a fond expression, immense care swimming in his eyes.

Any sleepiness was nonexistent on his features; he couldn't fall asleep either.

"Of course," he smiled and lifted your hand to press a tender kiss to your wrist. His soft lips stayed there, pulse racing madly underneath, and the warmth lingered on the skin long after George pulled away and placed your hand on his chest. You let out a quiet gasp when you felt his own heart hammering against his ribs.

His other hand slid down to your waist and pulled you closer. You buried your face in his neck.

You could finally breathe.

He began tracing lazy patterns on your lower back. "Better?"

"Better."

George's fingers lightly grazed your skin, slow and gentle touch never once stopping its loving path. Drowsiness welcomed you much sooner than you had expected and your eyes fluttered closed. The last thing you remembered was George's lips on your eyelids.

It wasn't much, but it was enough to keep your demons at bay at least for just one night. George gave into slumber as well, both of you engulfed by divine serenity until the bright moon hid behind the horizon.

Reblogs and feedback are greatly appreciated!

[honeypirate]

I’m glad it’s you (soulmate)

Tamaki Amakiji x fem reader

Warnings - has spoilers from season five episode 1. I don’t know if it’s accurate bc I don’t remember the episode all the way but I wanted to use that part of it

(I don’t know anything about Mirio’s parents and can’t find much on google)

Summary: Having the ability to see color since you were a toddler, you and your parents assume you just don’t have a soulmate and were spared the grey dull life without one. Tamaki, being in the same boat, thinks it’s too good to be true that his crush likes him back...

You felt lucky your whole life. Lucky to always have color when all your friends saw in grey. It was like pleasantville for them and you were blessed with color.

Sure, you’ve heard stories of people who find their soulmates as children who always had color, but your childhood friend was Mirio and he still saw in grey.

You head out of your room, your backpack bouncing along your back as you skipped down the stairs, humming a soft song stuck in your head as you make your way into the kitchen.

“Good morning Tamaki” you say softly, finding him at the table eating breakfast. “Good morning” he says down into his bowl. “How did you sleep?” You ask gently, he’s an introverted quiet guy and you always tried to make sure you weren’t doing anything that made him uncomfortable, the three years he’s known you at school he’s always appreciated that about your friendship.

He clears his throat, and you notice him shiver once “good.” He says and then surprises you by asking “You?” And looks up to your eyes for just a moment before he looked back to his breakfast.

“I slept well. Had crazy dreams though” you get your breakfast, just a pop tart, but you still want to sit with him “do you mind if I sit with you?” You ask, though the table had many chairs, all of which except his were empty.

“No” he says with a slight head shake and you smile, taking the chair one away from him. Close but not too close.

When your first pop tart was eaten, he speaks and it makes you smile “what.. uhh.. wh-what was your dream?” He asks his voice a little shaky

You swallow and smile, looking over to him as you spoke. “I was in space and you and mirio were there. We were shopping and then there were like colorful bubbles that I had to search though because one held the name of soulmate. But someone else found the bubble before I could and stole my soulmate. Then it turned out that person was a villain and we had to fight him and you and mirio died and I was alone in space. I don’t know what happened to the villain I just ended up alone.” You shrug, it wasn’t a nightmare just was strange.

You finish to it pop tart and roll up the paper towel you had so you can throw it away.

“Do - do you want to know m-my dream?” He asks and you smile, placing your elbow on the table and leaning your chin on your hand “yes. I do” you say with a small smile, making eye contact with him for just a moment, noticing his cheeks flush as he looks down again.

“I was on a mountain” he swallows hard and closes his eyes so he can speak without knowing you were looking at him. Which you weren’t, your gaze was shifted to the wall behind him, Mirio’s smiling face poking out from the wall.

“A-and you were there with me. You helped me learn how to fly” you smile warmly at him when he looks up to you. “That’s a lovely dream, Tamaki” you say “I wish I could fly with you, that would be amazing” you scoot from your chair to the one close to him and reach out “do you mind?” You ask, your hand beside his hair and he nods his head slowly once, his eyes looking into yours for the longest time he’s ever looked back at you.

Touching him wasn’t a new thing but you always asked before you did, just in case he didn’t like it.

You run your fingers through his hair and Mirio in the background cheers in silence, making your cheeks heat a little.

“Your hair is as soft as I hoped it would be. I love the color. I don’t think I’ve ever told you. this is actually my favorite color”

“Hey guys we’re gonna be late!” Nejire says as she comes into the the kitchen “no!” Mirio says and grabs his head making you and Tamaki jump and you pull back your hand. “No what?” She asks and Mirio tries to cover by laughing “just don’t want to be late!” He says awkwardly before he grabs an apple and tosses one at Nejire and pushes her outside of the dorm.

“They’re weird” you say with a laugh and get up, tossing your trash as he puts he rinses his bowl and puts it in the dishwasher. “Yeah” he says softly, his cheeks still flushed from you touching his hair.

***

“I love when we can be villains! If I didn’t have a quirk I’d want to be an actor” you say as you wait beside Tamaki in the training grounds. “I don’t like it” he says and you smile warmly “but you’re always so good at it” you say and he blushes “t-thanks” he mumbles and before you can talk anymore class 1A arrives on the scene.

“Tamaki!” You shouted from across the field, you were running as hard as you could trying to get to him when you saw Bakugou getting ready to blast him even after the training was called to an end.

You got there just as he released his grenade and you dropped to the ground, grabbing Tamaki’s hand and bracing yourself as you feel the heat burn your skin in a few places and rocks and dust hitting you as you close your eyes.

After the dust settles you pushed Bakugou off Tamaki and Kirishima drags him off

“Hey hey hey” you say softly and brush his hair from his face and dust off the rocks and “are you okay? That was completely out of line” he groans and you help him sit up “Tamaki?” You ask softly and he meets your eye “hi” you say softly and you run your fingers through his hair hoping to calm him down “hi” he says, his eyes were a little distant and you smile softly “let’s get you to Recovery Girl, okay? Is it okay if touch you and help you?” He nods and you help him to his feet, your arm wrapping around his middle as his arm wraps around your shoulder.

He was a little out of it, but not too far out of it to not have any reaction to you helping him. His hands were clammy and his heart was racing. He was thinking about how nice it is to feel your fingers through his hair. How nice you smell from your hair being so close to his nose. He wanted to bury his face in your hair and tell you how he thinks your eyes are the prettiest shade he’s ever seen. But his anxiety and nerves and the pain in his body won’t let him do that right now.

You stay with him the entire time he gets looked after, talking to mr aizawa and the principle about what happened from your point of view. After that, you were allowed to change from your hero suit and head back to the dorms.

You walked beside Tamaki back to the dorm, his bag over your shoulder no matter what he said to try and get you to let him carry it himself.

You place his bag down beside his bed and then head to the door “text me. Okay? If you need anything” you say softly and turn to meet his eyes. His eyes widen for a moment but he makes himself stay meeting your eye as he nods. “thank you” he says and you smile, making his heart race “of course, Tama”

“You should text her man” Mirio said as he pulled himself from the wall. “I don’t know” Tamaki says as he sits on his bed. “You should. She even said you could” Tamaki nods but says nothing.

“How about we all go to my parents place for dinner this weekend! Then you can have more time to talk to her without it being a big thing” Tamaki’s eyes light up for a moment “can we-?” Mirio nods “of course! My moms been telling me to bring home my friends anyway. So I’ll talk to Nejire and Y/n and it’ll be great!”

~ Skip to that weekend ~

“I love your mom! I’m so excited to see her again!” You say and hold on to Mirio’s arm. Tamaki gives Mirio a look and he laughs “mine and y/n’s moms are best friends” he says and Tamaki nods “that’s nice” he says and you can see in his eyes he means it.

“Thank you ma’am” you say as she hands you a plate and she laughs “you don’t have to be so formal” she says and you shrug with a smile

“I know but old habits” you say

Tamaki watches this whole exchange from right across from you. Watches how you smile and how bright your eyes get as you look down at your plate, waiting for everyone else to have one before you dig in to the food that’s laid out on the table.

You look up and make eye contact with him and he gasps, a pink blush dusting his cheeks but again, he uses every strength he can muster to not look away and realizes how worth it it was when you smile softly at him with closed eyes as you lightly bump your foot into his.

He’s heard about footsie before from Mirio, knows it simple and you don’t even have to really look at each other. But he can’t muster up the guts to bump your foot back. He sits there, eating quietly, speaking when absolutely necessary, and peaking at you through his hair every once in a while.

‘Just do it’ he thinks to himself ‘it’ll be fine. She started it. You can do it too. Just get some guts and do it god damn it!’

He moves his foot out, a little too quickly but he realized it too late. Feeling immediate regret and panic when his foot hits yours with too much force.

He expects you to yell at him or send him a glare but you surprise him, silencing all his doubts and fears by looking up into his eyes and smiling again. Reaching out with your foot and sliding it along the side of foot.

His cheeks flush red as he looks down to his plate, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips as you repeat the action.

This continued the rest of the meal and Tamaki felt like a blushing mess but every time he met your eye he realized that you weren’t looking at him like you thought he was a mess. Your eyes were sweet and he could see the flush on your cheeks and ears, a few patches on your neck and chest that truly showed that you were feeling similar to him.

Realizing that you were feeling similar made him feel a little more bolder and braver. Keeping eye contact with you for a little bit longer than normal and branching out to run the toe of his shoe up to your ankle and back.

You chuckle under your breath and tried to hide how warm your cheeks were.

“Y/n are you okay dear? You look a little flushed” Mirio’s mother says and you laugh awkwardly “I’m good! You know how I like spicy things!” You awkwardly laugh and hope she buys it’s from the spicy food. Tamaki loves the sound, your laugh showing that you were as awkward as he was and that brought you down from the pedestal he had you on.

He had thought you were so many levels higher than him. Thought you were confident and thought you’d only want someone as confident as you. He feels like an idiot. You’re just a human being. A sweet girl who feels as awkward as he does sometimes. And you see color just like he does so that means you’re both without a soulmate. It seemed too good to be true.

After dinner you walked back to the dorms talking and laughing with Mirio. You kept looking behind you at Tamaki and smiling, making his heart skip every time.

You finished your conversation with Mirio and Nejire and then quietly made your way to stand beside Tamaki. “Hi” you say softly and he smiles, watching the sidewalk as he walked “hi” he said back and you chuckle softly “do you want to hang out tonight?” you ask softly but then cover quickly just in case it stresses him out “Nothing stressful!... just like. We can hang out in my room and watch Jujutsu Kaisen or something.”

He feels like his whole body is trembling he’s desperate to say yes but his tongue feels so thick. You reach out and gently take a hold of his hand “hey” you say softly and he meets your eyes “it’s okay. How about you come over or you don’t and either way.. We’re still good friends” you smile softly and he tries to return it, knowing it must have looked a little wonky, but he nods, and does something that feels against his every fiber, he doesn’t let go of your hand.

You look at him when you reach the elevator and he nods once, answering the question in your eyes. You smile and squeeze his hand gently as you press your floor number. When you both exit together you look over your shoulder and watch the elevator doors close on Mirio grinning and holding his chest over his heart.

“Have you seen this?” You ask as you type the website in your computer

He nods “I’m on episode 16” he says softly and you beam at him “I am too! What a coincidence. Do you mind if we just watch from there?” He shakes his head and you smile, clicking the episode.

You watch episode sixteen and in the middle of seventeen he shifts a little closer to you, his pinky taking a hold of yours. You hum in approval and turn to smile at him, moving the rest of the way close to him and holding your hand out with a smile.

He gently placed his palm against yours and laced your fingers together, you could feel how his hand shakes but you didn’t let on to it.

by the end of episode eighteen your head was on his shoulder. He reaches out and presses the space bar to pause the show but doesn’t say anything, just sits back and shifts more to turn into you, resting his cheek against your head that was still on his shoulder.

“Tama?” You whisper softly, cuddling into him more. “Yes?” He asks

“I like you”

He tenses, just for a few seconds, before he squeezes your hand softly

“I- like you too” he confesses, a whisper that he was kind of embarrassed about how not confident it sounded, but it was perfect for you.

You moved slowly, turning your head to look up at him, surprised and impressed when he met your eye unwavering.

“We’ll take it slow okay? Whatever you’re comfortable with. You don’t have to worry. I’m not gonna be mad or sad or think bad about you if you’re not comfortable with something and you don’t have to feel uncomfortable with me and you can talk to me about everything”

he smiles, his face heating up and he leans down to press his forehead to yours, your eyes fluttering closed. He sighs softly “thank you. I- I hope I can give you what you need” you smile and rest your other hand on his chest “you already do” you whisper.

“- kiss you?” He whispers so soft you didn’t even hear the first words but you nod softly against him. Your heart fluttering and your breathing becoming quicker. He swallows, his hand squeezing yours a little tighter as he tries to talk himself into closing the small distance but he seems stuck, he feels like a fish out of water. He gasps softly, relaxing almost immediately when your hand moves up into his hair, softly running your fingers through it as you patiently wait for him.

You’re so sweet. So patient and caring, he felt so extremely lucky. He feels his body relax and he leans ever so slightly, connecting his lips to yours.

(One month later)

“Thanks for having us back so soon ma’am” you say and she smiles, her eyes saying what you’ve heard a hundred times but she just shakes her head. “Of course! I love you kids. It’s nice to see you two finally getting together too! You’d think soulmates would stay closer through the years but I guess I was wrong” you and Tama both choke, you on your water and him on the air.

“What was that mom?” Mirio says, wide eyes

“They’re soulmates!” She exclaims like it was obvious “... right? I mean all those times I babysat you guys as toddlers, they were thicker than thieves and talking about every color in the book I guess I just assumed. Are you not..?” She trails off but you’re just looking into Tamaki’s eyes.

“You were the little boy I knew.” You whisper with a smile

“You’re my soulmate.” he whispers back, immensely more relaxed around you than he was at the beginning.

“You didn’t know?” Mirio’s mom asks and you laugh and shake your head “I thought I didn’t have one and that’s why I saw colors. I didn’t know it was because I met him right away”

“I don’t even remember being babysat as a kid” Tamaki admits with a blush, his hand resting against your knee under the table, confident and not shaking.

“I’m glad it’s you” you whisper and smile when his blush deepens. “Me too” he says back, his hand squeezing your knee gently.

[nmikaelsonimagines]

Gold Rush: A Klaus Mikaelson Imagine

Request from @lanadelswiftie​: Hiii i saw your post and i was wondering if you could do a gold rush post where klaus gets jealous of everyone wanting or being enchanted by the readers beauty?

Thoroughly enjoying writing the Evermore collection! Hope this is okay for you lovely, and enjoy x 

Want to hear the song? Find a link to it just below:

Gold Rush

What must it be like to grow up that beautiful? With your hair falling into place like dominoes I see me padding across your wooden floors With my Eagles t-shirt hanging from the door

Klaus was always blown away by Y/N. It didn’t matter where they were or what they were doing, she always managed to take his breath away. She was beautiful, something he told her daily earning a blush that made him love her even more, and he knew just how lucky he was that it was her that he got to wake up to every morning.

She was perfect, he knew that. It was just a shame the rest of the world did too.

Y/N had scolded Klaus about his jealousy multiple times, telling him over and over again that it didn’t matter if others out there wanted her. She loved him and him alone. That would never change. But her words, however comforting, never allowed him to forget that she would be ogled at in the streets, that, undoubtedly, the same thing would happen later in the evening at his family’s ball.

But as she approached him, bare feet padding against wooden floors as she made her way over to the bed, her hair falling perfectly into place, only for him to tuck it behind her ear as he kissed her, he pushed his jealousy away.

He may have been the Devil in disguise, but here was an angel willing to save him.

At dinner parties, I call you out on your contrarian shit And the coastal town we wandered 'round had nеver seen a love as pure as it And thеn it fades into the gray of my day-old tea 'Cause it could never be

Whenever someone looked at Y/N like she was the only person in the room, Klaus felt two things. The first was jealousy, naturally, a desire to go over and kiss Y/N hungrily, showing the world that she was with him. If anyone wanted to get in the way of that, Klaus was more than happy to rip their head off.

The second was a gnawing doubt, a fear that maybe, one day, all it would take was a smile, and Y/N would fall for another. One day, she would sit him down and tell him that she’d realised he simply wasn’t good enough for her and that she deserved better than a monster like him. She would tell him that she was tired of pretending to love him, of feeling like she was just something for him to show off as they walked around town.

Klaus was scared of his nightmare coming true, of losing Y/N completely. He couldn’t imagine a life without her, couldn’t imagine a life without her touch, her smile, her kind heart, her beauty that blew him away every day.

But as she walked over to him, the fabric of her ball gown sliding over her body perfectly, he pushed away his fears, linking his arm with hers and placing a kiss on her cheek.

“You look beautiful, Y/N.”

She blushed again, and Klaus couldn’t help but smile.

'Cause I don't like a gold rush, gold rush I don't like anticipatin' my face in a red flush

It wasn’t long before Y/N caught someone’s eye. Klaus rolled his eyes as the man, dressed in a shabby tuxedo, hair untidy in the way that seemed to be fashionable in the twenty-first century. He turned to scoff at Y/N, but stopped in his tracks when she waved at the admirer.

“Do you know him?”

“He works at the Grill, gives me free coffee every Monday morning.”

Klaus refrained from saying what he felt, that the free coffee was only a ploy to get to Y/N, instead feeling his face go red, a darker crimson than that of Y/N’s blushes. He hated this, hated that Y/N was so unaware of how people were using her for her looks. He looked over at the man, making sure that Y/N’s eyes were elsewhere before he glared, giving his opponent the look he reserved for his enemies.

Much to his satisfaction, the man seemed to get the hint, moving out of sight. Jealousy was clearly going to be a guest at the ball tonight.

But as Y/N tugged him away, over to Rebekah, telling him all about her day and just what she planned to do tomorrow, jealousy became a distant thought, a third wheel, and Klaus reminded himself that he was her date for the evening.

And would be for the rest of her life.

I don't like that anyone would die to feel your touch Everybody wants you

“You’re jealous.” Klaus rolled his eyes at his sister’s words as she tauntingly whispered them into his ear. “Anyone can see it, Nik.”

“Well maybe they should,” Klaus snapped back. His previous glare at Y/N’s friend hadn’t been all that effective. Y/N had told him she was going to say hi, and hadn’t come back for ten minutes. Klaus’s eyes were on the pair and he was seething.

He had tried really hard not to be jealous, not to be frustrated by Y/N enjoying the company of another man. But he couldn’t help it. He was waiting for the moment when that man would touch her, knowing that once someone had met Y/N, it was incredibly hard not to. He hated the way they treated her like an object, a marble statue, there only for their pleasure.

He had tried really hard, but there was only so much he could take. When he heard Y/N’s laughter floating across the room, he decided that it was time to take action. He stalked across the dance floor, ready to show her admirer just who he was trying to take Y/N away from him.

But, as he saw her smile, her eyes light up at the sight of him, her wave to usher him over, to meet her friend, to introduce himself as her boyfriend, all his anger dissipated, and Klaus decided to try and be calm.

Try being the key word.

Everybody wonders what it would be like to love you Walk past, quick brush

As calm as Klaus was trying to be, focusing on Y/N’s hand on the small of his back, he couldn’t help but notice the look in the man’s eyes. The glint as he looked Y/N up and down, no doubt wondering what it would be like to share a bed with her. That was knowledge only Klaus had, and knowledge only he would have.

It was going so well, his breathing steady, his jealousy and his temper at bay. And then-

“Well, Klaus, if you ever fancy sharing this one, you be sure to let me know.”

Hands slipped. Eyes widened. Snarls started to brew in his throat.

“I beg your pardon?”

“Well, I can imagine Y/N can be a bit of a handful, if you get what I mean.”

Klaus felt Y/N’s grip tighten on him, her words hurried. “Klaus, don’t. He’s drunk.”

He heard them, but he didn’t listen. Y/N’s words were just background noise as the sound of his blood pumping, raging, drowned out any sound. Y/N’s friend wanted to know what it was like to have Y/N touch him. Well, now he was going to find out what it was like to have Klaus do so.

He knew Y/N would be angry, but as she pleaded with him, a voice that normally would have brought him back down to earth fading into the distance, Klaus curled his fist, and threw the first punch.

I don't like slow motion, double vision in rose blush I don't like that falling feels like flying 'til the bone crush

It wasn’t like Klaus particularly enjoyed hurting people in front of Y/N. But he couldn’t deny that there was something awfully satisfying about the bones crunching beneath his knuckles, the blood staining white shirts, the colour of it reminding him of Y/N’s blushes.

Y/N. She had her hand on his shoulder, trying to pull him away, to make him stop. A crowd had gathered as Klaus pummelled this man to near-death, the bartender now unconscious. “Klaus, stop, please.”

Everything happened in slow motion. Klaus’s vision cleared at the sound of her voice, as he turned and looked at her. There wasn’t any fear in her eyes, just a spark that threatened to blossom into a fiery rage. He knew he would pay for his actions later, knew as he stood and let Y/N pull him away from the scene, back into their bedroom, that she would scold him yet again for his jealous behaviour.

“Y/N, before you say anything, let me-”

His words were swallowed by her lips on his. She kissed him as if she wasn’t angry with him, taking him by surprise. She’d had many a reaction to Klaus’s jealousy before, but never one like this.

He wasn’t quite sure what to do, but as she continued to kiss him, lips moving in sync, his angel healing him from the wounds anger had etched into him, he realised he didn’t care.

Everybody wants you But I don't like a gold rush

“What was that for?”

“For defending me. No-one’s ever dared speak about me like that before, especially not someone who’s supposed to be my friend. Not that I’m condoning just how far you went,” she looked at him with those eyes that he could never resist, and Klaus desperately wanted to kiss her again, “Let’s get you cleaned up.”

“Y/N, I’ll heal.”

“So you don’t want me to undress you?”

A familiar growl started to build in Klaus’s throat, earning a cheeky grin from Y/N. She was stunning, and he was so lucky to have her. For her to stay with him in spite of everything, for her to love every part of him.

Klaus was always blown away by Y/N. It didn’t matter where they were or what they were doing, she always managed to take his breath away. She was beautiful, something he told her daily earning a blush that made him love her even more, and he knew just how lucky he was that it was her that he got to wake up to every morning.

She was perfect, he knew that. It was just a shame the rest of the world did too.

But maybe, just maybe, that didn’t matter.

Masterlist

Evermore Masterlist

[imonthinice]

The Criminal Psychology Majors, Jason Todd x Fem!Reader Part 8/?

Word Count: 1.6k

Author’s Note: Y/N - Your Name, A/N - Any Name (Your Best Friend’s Name)

This one is shorter because of the last one’s length.

Hi everyone! By the time you see this, I will probably be out and therefore cannot update the other parts with this one’s link, so don’t worry about that if you notice it.

Warnings: Swearing, Mentions of Jason’s Trauma and his Death, Lightning, no beta bitch we die like Jason Todd

(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4) (Part 5) (Part 6) (Part 7) (Part 8) (Part 9)  (Part 10) (Part 11) (Part 12) (Part 13) (Part 14) (Part 15) (Part 16) (Part 17) (Part 18) (Part 19) (Part 20)

Going on day 5 of knowing each other, Jason and Y/N would spend the day apart. Why? Because they gave each other the chance to have family time, Jason got it by playing around with his baby siblings, playing Assassin.

Fluff Head canon came from frownyalfred on Tumblr, who wrote about Jason playing Assassin with his brothers 

He would go running through the halls playing the game that he and Dick knew all too well, it had been the only ‘no contact’ game they were allowed to play at a summer camp Bruce had sent them to all those years ago when they weren’t adults with a bunch of other siblings, and girlfriends. But here they were, explaining the game to their younger siblings while Alfred and Bruce hung out with Barbara, who wished she could play, but was paralyzed.

Everyone missed playing games with her like they used to, but with the video game consoles in the house they did transfer a lot of their gaming to online so they could relive memories with Barbs. It was bittersweet, and everyone remembered when she became paralyzed like it was yesterday, but she always wanted them to play games like they used to, with or without her. 

Jason admired his, hopefully, one day older sister for how she treated her disability, like it was a gift, not something that impacted her everyday life and made her have to hang up the cloak of Batgirl.

But running around chasing after Dick, because of course, he got Dick, the universe wanted them to play again, was something he missed so much. They hadn’t had so much of this time, family time, ever since they all became vigilantes, and they never realized how much they missed the thrill of running around with each other.

Jason ended up getting Dick and throwing him out of the game, calling it a ‘selfless act of brotherhood so you can hang out with your girl’ and they both laughed at it. Titus, Damien’s dog, ended up barking up a storm at Jason when he killed Dick, like the big dog was rooting for Dick to win the tournament.

“Down boy! It’s a game!” Jason would whisper-yell at his dog.

“Yeah! Good boy, Titus! Get him!”

“No!” Jason would yell while running throughout the house, Titus on his heels. Passing by Alfred, Bruce and Barbara, where Titus would stop and go lay at Bruce’s feet, but Jason didn’t know that.

Jason would end up coming in just 10 minutes later, with a green slash on his neck. Tim, who had pulled Cass but killed her, Cass, who had pulled Jason. Tim now had two kills in the game and both were to people who could have easily overpowered him. 

“Jase! Welcome to the land of the dead,” Dick greeted him.

“God dammnit I’ve already been here,” Jason whined in a joke.

“You and your ‘I died pity me’  jokes,” Barbara said.

“It’s called a coping mechanism, Barbs. And hi dad, Alfred,” Jason said as he waved slightly at both of them, Alfred waved back and Bruce nodded at him.

“You could just to go therapy, Jase,” Barbara said, seeming concerned for someone who she considered her baby brother. She remember when he came into the Manor, she was older than him, sure . But he had nightmares and she and Dick would switch between who would sleep at his door at night, they both had terrible backs until the nightmares calmed down. Jason never knew they did this.

It also happened when he was resurrected, but the nightmares were worse and he’d wake all sweaty and upset. There were too many nights where batkids would be in Jason’s bed with him from 12am to when Alfred would greet them in the morning. The nightmares had slowed down a lot in the past few years with the introduction of his Goddaughter into his life, but they still came by to remind him of what happened.

He didn’t talk about it much. They would always try to edge him on about about really happened, but he was stubborn. It made sense, sure, trauma is trauma. But they all wanted to help him get better. It hurt them all that he was hurting and they didn’t know how to help him get through it.

--------------------------------------------------

Y/N would sit on her bed that morning and finally finished organizing her criminal psychology and regular psychology notes when she came across her printed copy of Dr. Barry Allen’s dissertation she had studied so hard. She found it so weird that she was so close to someone who she looked up to in the field while also being so far in the same breath.

She didn't dote on it for long, she stocked it away with her forensics notes in their place. This, the relationship she had with Jason that intertwined her with so many people, was something she was getting used to by the minute, but it was never something she’d get fully used to as time goes on.

She would put on a JCS - Criminal Psychology video in the background as she worked and tried to make her journal look nicer when Jason texted her,

Good morning. He said.

Good morning :)  She said back.

I just lost a game against a 16 year old.

Huh?

My brothers and 2 of my sisters were playing Assassins with me right? Well my 16 year old brother, Tim, he ended up getting the better of me and beat me. 

Oh! So you suck!

What!? No, I’m literally so cool what do you mean? He said, it clearly had sarcasm undertones to it, so Y/N wasn’t worried if she offended him with saying he sucked.

Oh yeah? Then why’d you lose?

Well, I killed Dick.

Okay so you didn’t lose, Dick lost.

It started raining a little bit, the sounds of it hitting lightly against her window, and she felt at peace. It was never hard for her to feel peace when she was by herself. She only had one roommate because she liked the silence, to be alone to collect her own thoughts in her head.

Her parents said it was because she probably had underlying mental illness that they never had the money to diagnose. She agreed. But she still didn’t have the chance to do it.

Jason and her deserved so much more than what the world have given them up to this point, so when they found each other it was, in a way, the universe saying ‘I’m sorry, you deserve this’ and with each passing day it made the pain they had both felt in their lives just a little bit more tolerable.

No, I guess Dick sucks at the game more than me.

Where’d you even get the concept for that game?

Dick and I used to play it at a Summer Camp before we got kicked out.

For playing the game?

No, for being unruly children.

You seem like you were a handful back in the day.

I was, I was the worst kid to raise, my dad has a shirt that says ‘Proud parent of a kid who is sometimes an asshole but that’s OK’ and he wears it all the time.

What a dad moment. Don’t tell my father that shirt exists, he’ll get one for my mum and himself to represent my sister and I.

Were you an unruly child as well?

I was a troublemaker. Getting into arguments with my authoritative figures about dress codes, rules, why girls couldn’t carry chairs, literally anything that was unequal, I was at their throats about it.

I mean, as you should. My older sister, Barbara, and my younger sisters, Stephanie and Cassie, they would like that about you.

I feel like in someway I’ve won over every part of your family.

The rain would get more violent as time went on. Strikes and hits of lightning would strike all around the city, hitting those gargoyles on every building, she always figured they were decorative, but A/N explained that their horns were made out of copper so people wouldn’t get struck by lightning. Bruce Wayne actually made that a thing, A/N said.

Y/N got a message from the dance competition that she signed up to, turns out, California was hit with a hurricane and most people evacuated. No one was allowed in or out. She guessed weather was being funky everywhere. It sucked, but she already was wishing she could spend time at home instead of out in the world.

A feeling she hated.

She would spend the rest of the day on and off the phone with Jason while it stormed. She would go to bed early that night.

-------------------------------------------------

Jason slipped on his vigilante uniform, the Red Hood was going to be on patrol over this night, stormy or not, it was his duty and he knew that. Did he want to go? Yes. He was killing for some action and he was going with Dick. They would probably have some ‘Bro Time’ which Jason wanted. 

Even if it was silence, having Dick nearby him meant enough and gave him peace of mind.

He grabbed his guns and loaded them while packing a few extra magazines in his belt, when Dick placed a hand on his shoulder, “You have to be careful tonight, Jase,” Dick said as he gulped down tears, “Just come back to me alive if you break off from me, okay?”

“Alive but bruised,” Jason joked.

“I’m serious. I can’t lose you again and tonight is going to be massively dangerous.”

“You won’t.”

[isaacthedruid]

Please allow me to tell you about one of my favourite cartoons through this informal essay I did for school a couple of months back. 

Gravity Falls and How it Did The Unimaginable

**SPOILERS... KINDA**

The 2010s saw the creation of some of the most iconic animated tv shows ever made, the likes of Adventure Time (2010), Steven Universe (2013), Over the Garden Wall (2014) and The Legend of Korra (2012). To explain why this era’s shows are so admirable is honestly rather difficult. Yet, there are many factors that can be taken into consideration when looking for an answer.

The past decade was very successful in perfecting their craft and utilizing the animated format to their favour, creating some of the wackiest and fascinating cartoons ever made. With the advancements made in both 2D and 3D animation for film, this bled into the world of TV as well.

To mention that 2010s cartoons have stunning visuals would be an understatement. Everything about the animation was beautiful; the strong colour palettes, the clean and imaginative character designs, the colourful and immersive backgrounds and especially the mesmerizing worlds that can be found within episodes that are half an hour.

This era’s cartoons also led to a massive shift in storytelling, writing longer-running stories that spread out across seasons while also swapping out episodic adventures for serialization. This heavily aided in the popularization of these shows, due to the rise of internet fandoms and dropping the taboo that cartoons were only for kids. Many shows acknowledged their older viewers by leaving clues and even puzzles to be solved by the theorists who have a large appearance on social media platforms like Reddit, Twitter and Tumblr. As the shows progressed, their fandoms created many theories for what they believed might happen within their favourite series. The top three shows from this era all utilized these changes, being at the forefront of the shift and helping guide the creative vision of 2010s cartoons.

Often regarded as many people’s favourite cartoon, Gravity Falls presented one of the best mysteries of the decade with two seasons and only 40 episodes. Inspired by Twin Peaks and The X-Files, it’s considered as the kids’ version of these two iconic shows as this cartoon acts as many people’s first introduction to horror through bright colours and fun characters.

This series follows the adventures of Dipper and Mabel Pines, twins, who are sent to spend their summer with their great-uncle or Grunkle Stan in Gravity Falls, Oregon. This town is full of oddities like supernatural creatures, insane and eccentric inhabitants, and many puzzles. The Pines twins must adjust to the weirdness while uncovering the mysteries and protecting their new town.

While living in Gravity Falls, the twins are forced to work in the Mystery Shack, a tourist trap created by their Grunkle Stan that overcharges unlucky tourists, teaching about fake monsters despite there being real creatures all over town. On his first day in Oregon, Dipper accidentally came across a mysterious journal written by an unknown author that explains all the oddities to be found in this strange town. This book acts like an encyclopedic of the Weird for Dipper, an inquisitive 12-year-old kid who seeks answers.

Dipper is an extremely intelligent kid, his brain being far more developed than his body. He’s rather awkward and self-conscious as he often stumbles over his words or gets embarrassed trying to talk to girls. Despite this, the boy is an adventurer at heart who just wants to grow up and skip his upcoming teenage years.

While Mabel is quite the opposite in many ways, she is loud and has an in-your-face personality. Mabel is bouncy and fun, she is so excited to start high school. She is easily excitable and for the larger part of the series, she is in her boy-crazy phase. Mabel is a girly-girl as she likes all things; glitter, unicorns, rainbows, partying and crafting. Yet, she doesn’t often compare well with many of the other girls in town, they see her as weird and “too much”.

(In all fairness through, it is not too kind to either of the characters as their personalities are more complex than just awkward nerd and artsy girl-girly.)

Dipper and Mabel’s personalities are very different but somehow, they—along with their Gravity Falls family—manage to solve mysteries and save the town, multiple times.

Gravity Falls is an honestly genius series that completely changed the way cartoons were made. Originally when writing a series, you’d create a base of your story; characters, the universe and a basic plot. Yet, when creator, Alex Hirsch (who was in his early/mid-20)s and his small team first began constructing their show, they planned out everything they could possibly think of for the first season. Additionally, outlining some answers for their biggest mysteries that would be answered at the end of the series.

Despite being rated TV-Y7, this series really pushed the boundaries of kids’ television. From the teeth being ripped out of a deer’s mouth by a demon, rearranging the functions of every hole on a man’s face to an aggressive pop-rock sock puppet show that ended in a dramatic slow-motion scene of the puppets burning. Gravity Falls wasn’t afraid to get a little weird or creepy. Or create some genuine nightmare fuel. 

From the beginning, Gravity Falls had built a mystery into its series, hiding secrets and clues all throughout the show. Most notably were the backwards-recorded message and cryptograms, using roughly nine different kinds, even creating two of their own.

The inclusion of cyphers and mysteries for fans to solve is possibly the reason why this series was so successful. As one of the first shows to do something like this, Gravity Falls used social media and internet fandoms to its advantage.

As mentioned earlier, cartoon fans have quite a presence on social media platforms like Twitter and Tumblr. They create theories and share fun ideas about their favourite shows. Viewers of Adventure Time, Gravity Falls and Steven Universe were all included in their share of theory fun.

Sometimes, fan theories end up being correct but when you’re Gravity Falls creator, Alex Hirsch, you don’t just watch from the sidelines as your viewers figure out the biggest mystery of your show. No, you create a hoax to get your viewers off your trail and that is what he did. Around 2013, only halfway through the first season of the show, viewers had started to follow the clues, theorizing who was the author is Dipper’s mysterious journal.

Unfortunately for the Gravity Falls production crew, the viewers were right— for the sake of readers who have never seen the show, I will not mention who the author was as it would be the biggest spoiler.

In 2013, a supposed leaked image of a tv showing a younger version of the show’s crazy old man character, Old Man McGucket, writing in the infamous journal was uploaded anonymously (by Alex Hirsch) to 4Chan.

Despite the image only being on up for a few hours, it spread like wildfire. Much to the team’s success, theorists stopped searching for the answer to “who is the author” and just accepted the image of McGucket as the truth.

To further push the fake-out, three words were posted to Alex’s Twitter, “fuming right now.”

The tweet was deleted a few minutes later and fans genuinely believed that someone from the Gravity Falls team had leaked the most important part of the story.

While doing research, I came across a Reddit post from April 10th, 2013, the day after ‘leak,’ Alex’s tweet was uploaded. In this post, user, TheoDW uploaded an image of Alex’s tweet with the caption, “It seems that Hirsch got mad at last night’s leak. He already deleted this tweet.”

Seeing the reactions of these Redditors in 2013 is kind of weird and crazy to look at. “He has every right to be upset. Someone internally released a plot revealing screen shot of series breaking spoiler information,” a deleted Reddit account commented.

“This is Alex Hirsch’s biggest success by far, he spent a huge amount of time carefully planning out the series, and then in a moment someone releases a major spoiler. It would make anyone upset,” the user, Time_Loop commented.

“Seriously, this is a nightmare for a storyteller, and shows a breach of trust. I feel so bad for him–honestly, I hope whoever did the leak gets caught and appropriate action is taken. You don’t f–k with someone’s story like this. It’s unprofessional.” the user, lonelybeloved angrily commented.

In 2014, this ‘leak’ was finally disproven when viewers were given an episode on McGucket’s backstory and an amazing tweet from Alex Hirsch. 

Alex had post an image of himself playfully pointing at a monitor with the supposed leaked picture with the caption, “1) Make hoax  2) Upload to 4Chan  3) Post angry tweet about "leak" 4) Delete tweet 5) Let internet do rest”

It is so interesting to look at these comments know that all of this was orchestrated by Alex.

I wish I had been old enough at the time to follow theories and fandom stuff like I do now with current cartoons but really looking at this from an outside perspective, this was insane!

The real author wasn’t revealed until 2015 and when viewers first got the answer to this biggest show on their screens, they must have freaked out!

Following the finale in 2016, a single frame of a stone version of Bill Cipher, the show’s villain, flashed in after the credits had finished.

Alex Hirsch and his team actually created a real-life statue of their villain for their viewers to find and on July 20th, 2016, the Cipher Hunt began.

By following clues, the Hunters found themselves all over the world; Russia, Japan and then travelling throughout the United States for the final 12 clues. When the hunt took them to Los Angeles, actor, Jason Ritter (voice of Dipper Pines, also a massive fan of the series) and Alex Hirsch’s twin sister, Ariel Hirsch (the inspiration for Mabel) joined in the fun helping the search.

Finally, the hunt ended on August 2nd when someone tweeted out an image of the found statue in Oregon, the same state in which the fictional town of Gravity Falls exists. The Cipher Hunt had ended but finding the statue wasn’t Alex’s goal for the scavenger hunt, it was about the journey and bringing together the viewers, more than having them actually find the statue.

Creating its own hoax, an international scavenger hunt and quite a bit of nightmare fuel, Gravity Falls was a show truly unlike any other.

The 2010s saw some of the strongest cartoons ever made, Adventure Time, Gravity Falls and Steven Universe acting as the leaders for multiple different changes in the medium; storytelling, worldbuilding, interaction with viewers, utilizing social media, representation and further pushing music into the cartoon world. From what was created this past decade and what has already been released in 2020, I’m so excited to see what comes next.

I have another one of these which is on Steven Universe’s representation and music if you would like to see that too!! 

[babiesdreams]

Nct reaction to their small s/o doing hard labour around the house Part 2

REQUESTED BY ANON

Part 1 Part 3

Warnings: angst (Lucas)

--Requests are open--

♡ My personal favs will be marked with this heart.

Jaehyun:

Sir if you look at me like that, I´m dead

His expression completely changes when he sees how you try to lift that heavy box, filled with funiture. Moving houses is not an easy job for anyone, but being small makes it harder. You feel your back aching at the sudden pain and you whine unconsciously. He makes you put it back down on the floor inmediately. “Are you crazy? I told you I was moving this stuff on my own, these are the heavy boxes Y/N” His serious tone, mixed with his expression makes you feel sorry for just trying to help. “I wanted to end this up as soon as possible” You say in a tiny little voice. He sighs, looking at you. “I don´t want you to get hurt okay?” He says, calmed down and you just nod. He moves his hands all over your back, making sure you are fine. “I´m giving you a back massage when we´re done” He says smiling and you can´t control yourself from mirroring his expression.

♡Winwin:

You keep asking to yourself what in the world could be inside that amazon package. It´s big as hell and, eventho you try hard to lift it, push it, just move it in any way possible, it doesn´t move at all. You start thinking it´s sealed to the floor. You, suddenly hear Sicheng´s voice coming from your back. “Is it really that heavy or are you just acting?” He asks actually fooled by the situation. You look at him with an angry expression drawn in your face and just say “Try it yourself” Challenging your boyfriend. He just walks towards the package and lifts it up easily. You look at him, mouth fully open as you can´t belive your eyes. “It is so heavy how are you?” You are confused at the situation and Sicheng just chuckles at your cute nature. “I´ve been working out” He just says like nothing.

♡ Jungwoo:

This old coffee maker drives you crazy. Yes, you have to take the pieces off everytime but it´s so damn hard like why do they make them this way?? Anyways, you are focused trying to open it. Several tries later you just give up. You hear Jungwoo´s laugh in the background and you don´t even care about it. You are just too pissed off at the coffee maker right now. “Let me do it” He says getting to it, proud as hell, as if he were to solve world´s hunger. You look at him, intrigued, knowing damn well his cute attitude is just a fake identity that hides a really hot boy inside. So when he opens it effortlessly, you don´t even get surprised. “Nice, thank you” You say to him, uninterested. “Aren´t you going to kiss me?” He asks offended, as if it was implied. You look at him and place a tiny kiss on his cheek, which is enough to make him smile.

♡Lucas:

Lucas is already holding a lot of bags. Both of you are shopping at IKEA, so that you can decorate your new apartment. But this furniture boxes are too heavy. You decide to grab one, holding it with both hands and trying your best to not fall. Lucas is going ahead from you, unaware of your situation. Once he's put all the bags he was carrying on the car he turns around, looking at you, confused as hell. Once he understands the situation he starts running in your direction, wanting to stop you from carrying the heavy bag. Once he gets there, he's absolutely mad at you. "You couldn't wait a fucking minute?" He says in a serious tone. You look down, feeling sorry for your actions. "What if you hurted yourself huh? Gosh you never think" he keeps saying while he walks with the bag on his right hand. "I just wanted to help okay?" You answer, in an angry tone as well. "Don't you get it?" Lucas says, turning back so that he's looking at you again. "You help me every day Y/N, you help me with your smile, your lovely hugs, your kisses. What am I supposed to do if something happens to you?" He says, almost tearing up, and your heart skips a beat. "This is the only thing you can't do, let me help you with it" he finishes now looking away, refusing to cry on public. "Okay babe, I won't do it again, I promise" you say getting closer to him so that you can kiss his cheek.

Mark:

"mhh" you hum trying your best to move the wardrobe. This is the first time you try to move that huge wardrobe. It was something stupid, but you couldn't stand not wearing your engagement ring. You tried to look for it getting on the floor and looking down the wardrobe, but of course, you couldn't reach it so now you were fucked. "What are you doing babe?" Mark says, resting his weight on the door frame. "I'm trying to move the wardrobe" you say, stay pulling the wardrobe. "Why?" He asks, stopping your actions. You look at him and sigh. "Because I dropped the ring and it got under the wardrobe" you say almost tearing up. He hugs you tightly, reminding you everything is fine. "We'll figure this out" he says pulling off the hug and searching for something around the house. He finally comes back, with a long object on his hands. He knees down and gets to the ring, helping himself with the said object. You smile at him when he shows you the ring inside his hand.

Xiaojun:

The birthday present you bought for Xiaojun was wayyy too big, but there´s nobody you can call to help you, so you decide to carry it alone. You get home, after a long ride and get the present inside of the house. Xiaojun looks at your figure, hiding the present behind. “You carried that alone?” He says standing up from the coach. “I did” You say, exhausted, wipping off the sweat from your forehead. Xiaojun is quite impressed at you. He barely saw the present, but it´s almost as tall as you. You ask him to close his eyes while you hide the present somewhere and lay down on the couch. “Do you want a massage” Xiaojun says, carressing your back. “I need one” You just say still exhausted.

Hendery:

You have to change your old matress, but getting the old one out of the bed and the new one on it, it´s your worst nightmare. You fight with the mattress, pushing it against the wall, but it just falls back down, almost hitting you and making a loud sound. Hendery comes running inside the room and looks around trying to figure out what happened. “I have to change the matress” You explain, completely breathless. “You should have told me dummy” He says as he gets the matress out of the room like it´s just a pillow. You stay there catching your breath as he comes in again, holding the new matress and putting it on the bed structure. “Thanks babe” you say kissing his lips softly.

Masterlist

[bang-fantansies]

Sasaeng BTS Profiles: Yoongi Edition

Warning: Heavy mentions/implications of suicide, mentions/implications of overdosing on medication, insomnia, unhealthy behaviour, obsessive behaviour, poor mental health, self-denefse killing, homelessness, nightmares, mention/implications of side-character being drunk, death, blood, gore, destruction of evidence, crime, profanity.

I did my best to include any triggering topics mentioned in this post, but if you see any more potentially sensitive topics I may have missed, please let me know!

This does not represent Bangtan as people or a business, nor does it represent anyone/anything associated with them. This is purely fictional and was made for entertainment purposes only; not to slander anyone or any company.

Mental Stability: 3/10

2:50 AM.

As was the same battle every night, Yoongi lay in bed, the whole world sleeping apart from him. He couldn’t help it, of course - believe me, he would if he could - and this was what made the thoughts in his head run wild.

Each thought had a voice, all unique to their varying degrees of uselessness, yet the message they chanted was identical.

“Sleep! Sleep!” they cried. They’d grown louder over the years as Yoongi’s insomnia worsened, and in spite of their efforts to help their master, they did the complete opposite.

That dream - red and monstrous - drowned out any measure of volume the voices could hope to muster. 

The sound of a man gargling with his own blood made Yoongi feel as if he was suffocating, and more often than not he’d jolt up in bed, forced to replay the events of his early adult years.

Before finding his current residence, Yoongi had been forced onto the streets by unjust circumstances, leading to a great deal of situations he’d rather keep buried beneath the layers of his memory.

One such situation involved another homeless man - drunk, Yoongi had assumed - competing with Yoongi for a bottle of liquor he had scored.

Yoongi’s only use for such a thing was to sell it off and use the money to find a cheap room and a meal. But his opponent had refused to accept such nonsense.

“Such fine wine shouldn’t go to waste!” Yoongi could still hear him say, voice ringing in his ears.

“And it won’t if you just let me pass, you stupid old prick.”

In short, the drunkard had taken Yoongi’s tone very personally and caused his own demise by making a haphazard attempt on the younger’s life, resulting in having the bottle of wine he oh-so desired slammed into the side of his head, shattering and giving Yoongi a sharp enough tool to puncture his throat with. 

Yoongi fled the scene not long after, keeping the remains of the bottle to hand until he could destroy the evidence later on.

Nowadays, while he was far from sleeping rough, he hardly slept at all for fear of his actions whispering cruel and dark remarks into his ear.

As it would for most, this took its toll on Yoongi’s health; physical, emotional, and mental.

The pressure had proven to be too much for him to handle, and on this night, he had decided he’d had enough.

On his computer desk stood a bottle, a proud shade of orange with its contents revealed in a cluster of black ink, made to resemble actual handwriting, written across a label stuck to its front - the only semblance of privacy Yoongi was allowed. Its white cap was ajar, and though no scent came from within, Yoongi could practically smell the prescription enticing him to a snack.

And under normal circumstances, he would have declined as he had many a time before. 

But these were no longer normal circumstances.

Yoongi rose from beneath the bed sheets, any semblance of humanity he’s once held having burnt out alongside his will to continue.

He knew what it meant to live - to love the act of being human - but he was no longer human. He most similarly resembled a shell; cold, hollow, and filled with the shadows of his own mind.

And so he had made his decision. Despite his lethargy shackling him to the bed, he made a reach for the bottle, popping off the cap and peering inside.

A glass of water sat on his bedside table, bubbles sticking to the water-covered walls as a result of disuse.

Yoongi counted the pills, assuming that the amount he was left with would be enough.

At this point, he figured that if he was to find no rest in life, he would surely find it in whatever lay beyond his broken, mortal body.

In these last moments, Yoongi granted himself his last comfort.

He brought his laptop beside him and searched his favourite artist on YouTube.

He only had a few artists in his arsenal that he could dispense at family dinners or reunions he’d been invited to.

he never was an adept conversationalist: even at friends’ parties where a guest he didn’t know would be obligated to talk to him on account of appeasing the birthday girl or boy.

For a second, Yoongi faltered.

His mind backtracked to the joy he’d felt with his friends, and in turn the joy he had granted them.

Was he really going through with this...?

A stab of doubt was all it would take to make Yoongi withdraw from his initial intentions, and he cut the tie with said doubt immediately, pushing his friends to the back of his mind.

He was exhausted - tired of helping and appealing to others; now it was time to take care of himself.

From the tiny speaker in his laptop came the sound of solace: his favourite track from his idol.

He lay back, pill bottle and water placed on his bedside table as he basked in his last melody.

Through the duration of the song, Yoongi’s unease had worn away - eroded by the tides of his own resolution.

The song eventually clambered to a fading finish. Yoongi knew what came next.

He sat up and tipped the contents of the bottle onto the table, a hill of oddly-coloured tablets forming.

He threw the bottle somewhere behind him, hearing it land in a hidden corner of the room.

Pale hands scooped the pills up like candy, bringing them to Yoongi’s lips.

And like a saving grace emerging through a storm, a miracle unfolded.

A soft sound played beside him; the sound of angel wings and promises of a better future.

Yoongi didn’t so much as falter as he did pause, lending his ear to the tune.

It played notes from an instrument Yoongi didn’t even think existed - a soft twinkling stalked by a voice he had yet to have heard on his musical voyages through Soundcloud and YouTube.

For a second - just a second - the doubt that had made such a ruckus to enter had now slithered through the back door of Yoongi’s mind.

What was this music?

Reluctant, he lowered his hand to his side, though held tightly on to the pills.

Turning the screen to face him, he came face-to-face with someone other than his idol.

Her eyes looked a soft shade of (e/c) in the no-doubt filtered lighting of the video, though the sincerity she held within them was far from fabricated.

The background was crystalline - faux crystal props - oversized and oversaturated. They were littered around the studio in which the woman sang, and beneath a purple hue she sat on a stool, an air of comfort radiating from her.

As to what she was singing, Yoongi had no idea.

He let the music play for a moment, considering his options.

What harm would it do him to listen to something new? It wasn’t as if he’d be able to after he was gone, anyway.

Lying back down, Yoongi stared at the ceiling, the lack of light or patterns making it easier for him to focus solely on the music.

His fatigue embraced him like a long-lost mother, shrouding him in a warmth unmatched by that of any real person.

The singer’s soft humming filled the desolate room. And if Yoongi wasn’t mistaken, he could feel his eyelids growing heavy.

He forced a bitter smile, doubtful that his mind would actually allow him any such solace as sleep.

To humour his weary self one last time, Yoongi shut his eyes, sighing deeply and sinking into the mattress.

*

The next time Yoongi opened his eyes, his room was still dark. And as if it had never left to begin with, his bitter smile returned.

I knew it, he thought. Though the victory of beating his already hell-level expectations filled his overflowing spirit with grief, disguised and diluted by the anger that had slipped into the mix so long ago.

Sitting up, Yoongi lent his ear to the room once more.

He could hear the soft hum of the woman’s song no longer, and it was in this second that he realised he didn’t remember actually hearing the song end.

It was on one minute, and off the next.

Suspicious, Yoongi glanced at his half-lidded laptop, faced with a blackened screen as the device had switched itself off.

With a push of the power button, the power returned, and in a blast of light the screen sprung to life.

Through the tips of his fringe, Yoongi checked the time.

11:15 AM.

He recoiled.

That couldn’t be right - surely.

Logging in, he noted how his battery was running low, despite having been fully charged before he lay down.

The screen gave way to the last application he’s been using, and clear as day the same starry-eyed woman with the voice of velvet was on-screen, though the video she was in had long since ended.

Yoongi checked the time again, pulling his fringe back so as not to trick himself a second time.

11:16 stared back at him, steadfast and unwavering in its absolution.

Yoongi’s eyebrows raised in a sense of alarm.

He rose from the bed, tearing his curtains open.

A cityscape greeted him, and the sun waved from its fixture in the sky. It was daytime.

Yoongi stumbled back, carding a hand through his hair.

There was absolutely no way he’d-

...Had he actually managed to get to sleep?

Yoongi checked his phone, watch, and alarm clock; no-one dared deceive him of date nor time.

He was willing (and already considering) to accept the idea that he’d time-traveled; the concept of having a decent night’s sleep was as foreign as a language to him.

Nevertheless, he hadn’t the time to dawdle in such a concept, though he made absolute certain to when he was at work.

*

His colleagues seemed to notice a change in Yoongi’s behaviour.

Though he was often dazed into bouts of silence by his exhaustion, this quietude was new. Different.

A few co-workers commented on how he looked much livelier. And more alive, he felt.

In spite of this, the constant what-ifs of the morning had followed him - clung to him like a cologne.

What if...what if he was actually dead?

He considered this, deciding against his theory.

If he was dead and this was indeed Heaven, he should be receiving a lot more good fortune for all the shit he had to deal with in his life.

No, this was neither Hesven nor Hell. Or Purgatory.

Yoongi also considered that he was in a coma, but that didn’t add up, either.

He tested to see if he was comatose. Nothing.

He was still trapped in his same-old reality. But at least he could think clearly now.

*

By the time he got home, his body yearned for the sweet release of music, and he sought the comfort of his favourite artist - as he usually did on days as long as this.

Shoving his bedroom door open, he grumbled at the brightness the room held for a change.

He’d forgotten to shut his curtains before he left.

In the dwindling light of the afternoon sun, he saw the pills scattered across his duvet, the sole remnants of his almost-actions.

He cringed, forcing them to the back of his mind.

He could acknowledge the gravity of his decision later. Right now, his head was filled with the phantom melodies longing for a vessel.

Yoongi has attained the good sense to charge his laptop, and as he switched it on, he was greeted with the same lady who had pulled him to sleep the night before.

Or, Yoongi supposed, who had just happened to be playing on the night he was finally able to sleep without the nightmare scaring him awake.

Such wonderment remained at the back of his mind as he went about his business.

Through his own music, the whisper of the lady’s tune plagued him. So much so that, after a good three hours of composing, Yoongi found himself eyeing the tab he’d left open from before.

Having returned home from work later, his body was weighted with the day’s contrivances and stresses, as well as its successes and joys.

Emotionally, Yoongi had given all he had to offer, which, if he was to admit it to himself, was far more than he usually did.

He considered that it was more than likely it wasn’t just the song that had sent him to sleep.

On the contrary, he believed that a multitude of factors had to have been at play in such a miracle.

He wished to replicate the conditions of the night before: he kept his room dark and a glass of water on his bedside. He packed his pills away and placed them on his bedside, too, taking care not to lose any in case their service was required again.

He set the woman’s song up, lying in bed and playing it.

The creeping horror of the notion of never obtaining such a quality of sleep again was the only odd variable in this equation, and though it quietly consumed Yoongi’s thoughts, the hum of the song muffled it.

The song was no longer than 4 minutes, though the eternity that stretched between Yoongi and his voyage to the fabled land of dreams made it impossible to tell how long it had been.

He was not yet familiar enough with the song to place a time on the segment he was experiencing.

His concerns faded as he simply let himself be.

If it works, it works, he told himself.

The next thing Yoongi remembered was hearing a bird chirping nearby his window.

He cracked an eye open.

Much like the night before, his room remained in a state of quiet disarray, though only noticeable to the trained eye.

His laptop lay near his side, screen dark and lifeless.

Yoongi checked through a crack in the curtains. And sure as anything, the sun had risen once again.

*

Over the next couple of weeks, Yoongi researched the song, its creator, and whether it was really the secret to staving off his insomnia.

He had discovered that the creator’s name was (Y/N) - a popular artist who had fans far and wide, as well as domestically.

He found more of her particular songs - the ones that she hummed.

He tested both the original and these humming bird songs (as he called them), and to his delight, the humming birds worked.

Yoongi would go to sleep and wake up at reasonable times, rather than the odd dips in and out of consciousness he would try to induce on his own terms.

It was just your music that soothed him so, and from the day he uncovered this, he vowed to be your loyal follower.

Though, with any influential fan can blossom obsession, and as Yoongi became ever more eneamoured with your gossamer vocals, he feared the day that your songs would no longer support his sleep.

Or, God forbid, you stopped singing.

He often fretted over such a premature worry, though he couldn’t deny how it had all but devoured his thoughts.

Months into his expedition into your music, he decided to finally take action to ensure that your voice would never die - never fade with age, accident or abuse.

No, he would preserve it like the fine wine he had failed to so many years ago - to be sipped and savoured for eternities to come.

Sasaeng Masterlist

[writersmorgue]

I'm in a nightmare but I didn't fall asleep

TW: noncon, vague description of said noncon, kidnapping, non-consensual oral sex

17+ to interact

“That’s TWO out of three sports festivals you lost, Shouto. I’m beyond disappointed in you.” Endeavor’s booming voice leaves nothing to the imagination as it echoes across the barren stadium halls.

Well, almost barren.

Sero cringes from his hiding place behind the nearest wall, making eye contact with Bakugo next to him whose brows are furrowed in concentration.

“You know what, I’m fucking done. You’re going to give me one thing, and it’s going to be the future number one hero. A hero who will beat All Might, something you will NEVER do. My faith in you has been destroyed. I’ll tell them to retrieve you on Friday.”

Shouto makes a choked noise, and the two boys look at each other in confusion.

“Father please, you don’t mean-”

“I absolutely do. I gave you three chances Shouto! You’ve wasted my time and money, and now you’re going to be used like the useless bitch you are. Only serving me one purpose.”

“Please I can do better! Please don’t take me I promise I’ll make it worth your resources- AGH!” There’s a strangled shout as Endeavor grabs his daughter’s long ponytail in his flaming fist, charring the white hair

“You will do no such thing, and don’t even try escaping, I’ll hire more men if I have to. You will be useful.” There’s a scraping sound as Shouto drags her feet as she’s pulled away.

A shrill scream lets out, quickly cut off as Endeavor’s scorching palm slams over his daughter’s mouth with a sharp shut up.

Sero turns to Bakugo, gulping, as he raises a pointed thumb towards the exiting duo, “Uh, that didn’t sound good.”

Bakugo purses his lips, “No, it did not.”

-

Endeavor shoves Shouto into the van head first and she tumbles in, careful to mind the several men surrounding her as she skids to a stop.

“I don’t care how you go about this, you’re all suitable donors. Get her pregnant in a timely manner. Do what you want with her when the baby is born.”

Shouto whimpers as the door is slammed shut, locking her in complete darkness with a group of unfamiliar voices as they discuss who gets to fuck her first.

Her right ankle is grabbed as the van begins to move, the first man growls as she tries to pull away, and his grip tightens.

She screams, hoping someone will hear her. Her mouth burns from her father’s hand.

“NO!!! LET GO! I DON’T WANT IT!” The sound of zippers undoing around her head is what finally sets her off.

Her flame erupts, burning half of her competition shirt, save for her specially made sports bra, and singes the second-place medal strap around her neck. The disc clanks on the metal floor and the men around her shout with frustration.

“He said we could do what we want-” One of them grunts, patting some embers off of his shirt, “Someone subdue the bitch.”

Her head is slammed down onto the metal floor, and she fades away.

-

“Did-” Sero’s voice cracks, and he doesn’t continue.

“Yup.” Bakugo nods, explosions popping behind him as they sprint towards the speeding van, “He just facilitated the rape of a fucking minor.”

“A MINOR!?” Sero screeches, fumbling his tape as it catches on a tree branch, launching him forward “That’s not just a fucking minor, Katsuki, that’s our fucking FRIEND.”

“SHUT UP!!” Bakugo yells right back, “I’m sort of busy trying to save her ass. Obviously, since that van isn’t a puddle she can’t get out on her own. Probably quirk proof or some shit, knowing the asshole.”

“I’m calling Aizawa.” Sero reaches one hand back to his pocket to get his phone.

Bakugo grunts something that sounds like an affirmation.

A few moments later Aizawa’s gruff voice is asking who the hell is calling him at this hour.

“Aizawa-sensei!!”

“What, Sero.”

“So um, Todoroki! She, um, her dad!!-”

Bakugo growls and snatches the phone, blasting himself with just his left arm. Sero would be impressed if he wasn’t screaming internally as the van takes a sharp left, causing them to slow.

“IcyHot has been kidnapped by her dad.”

“Bakugo, I’m pretty sure that’s called having a child legally, give Sero his pho-”

“No you don’t fucking understand!!” Bakugo shouts, “We watched him drag her away and shove her in a fucking van with a bunch of assholes. He told them to rape her Aizawa. She’s been fucking kidnapped.”

“I- you’re joking.” Aizawa’s slight increase in background noise indicates he’s finally taking action, but the goddamn attitude sets Bakugo the fuck off.

“WHY WOULD I JOKE ABOUT THIS YOU OLD BASTARD!!”

“No, you’re right, sorry. I’m getting Nedzu and sending Midoriya your way.”

“NOT FUCKING DEKU”

“Bakugo Katsuki you will shut up and help your classmate with whoever I send to you or you will be expelled.”

“FUCKIN’- whatever old man. We’re just passing the corner store.”

He shuts the phone off before throwing it carelessly at Sero.

“Bakugo!!” Sero whines as he misses the catch and watches his phone shatter on the pavement.

“Not my fault you can’t catch.” Bakugo retorts, speeding up and launching himself at the van.

Sero follows close behind.

They hear a rhythmic thumping from the inside, Bakugo pales.

“Fuck I think they’re-”

“All the more reason we should blow this fucking van open!” Sero shouts into the wind, shooting tape onto the door handle and yanking the entire thing off.

He pulls the nearest guy out by his leg and throws him onto the median.

“C’mon dipshits!! Quit-”

All fight drains out of him, instead replaced with blinding fury, when he sees Shouto.

Practice uniform already torn to shreds, she’s bleeding profusely from somewhere on her head right onto the cold metal floor of the moving van. Surrounded by several other grown-ass men, all staring at Bakugo like deer in headlights, she’s knocked out cold at their feet.

“You bASTARDS!!” He screeches, storming into the van and grabbing Shouto’s limp body into his arms, thankfully her pants seem to be relatively unharmed, it’s the glistening by her slack mouth that has Katsuki concerned.

The men seem to be too shocked to retaliate, but one of them stands, seeming to prepare some sort of excuse. Sero is faster.

Hanta whips through the vehicle, grabbing both Katsuki and Shouto with his tape, flipping the van onto its side in the process, and carrying all three of them out the other door.

The human scum scatter onto the pavement as the students roll, relatively unharmed, into a parking lot. It’s somewhere in those few seconds when Aizawa arrives, followed by a somewhat feral Midoriya.

“Where’s Shouto,” He picks one of the men up by their collar, throwing him violently back onto the asphalt when he sees his three friends laying in a heap a couple dozen yards away.

“SHOUTO!” He calls, practically teleporting to their location and digging through Katsuki and Sero to reach her.

“Jeez we’re fine too, Deku, thanks for wondering.”

Izuku rolls his eyes, pulling Shouto’s limp body into his arms, “Is she- what happened?”

Sero starts nervously explaining, wringing his hands as he looks back and forth between Shouto’s unconscious form and Izuku’s increasingly rage-filled eyes.

He WHAT?!” Green lightning crackles over his skin, stopped abruptly with a firm hand from Aizawa on his shoulder.

Aizawa walks over and crouches, pulling a swab out of his scarf, “Had Momo make me one,” He grunts at Sero’s confused expression.

He sighs, reaching over to Shouto’s face and swiping it around her lips, “Unfortunately I figured we’d need it.” He tucks it into a plastic bag and stuffs both into his suit pocket.

Katsuki huffs, an unreadable expression fixed on his face as he stares down at the girl.

“They got her pretty good,” He reaches a hand out and tucks a strand of hair over, so Aizawa can get a look at her head injury, “probably tried to put up a fight.”

The teacher nods, “and you heard her father approve this- kidnapping?”

“Yes sir,” Sero speaks up, and Midoriya growls.

“I fuckin’ knew he was bad news,” Katsuki scoffs, “always draggin’ her around and shit. Probably paid for them to fuck her up too. Said he wanted her knocked up.”

“He,” Sero’s voice is strained, “he said she was a disappointment that he was giving up on her. She knows that’s not true- right?”

Aizawa hums, pulling out a bandage to wrap Shouto’s head, “well you’ll just have to show her.”

The boys make eye contact, and Izuku pulls her closer.

“Yeah,” Katsuki agrees, “we will.”

-

Shouto wakes up screaming, clawing at her face as blood begins to seep down her cheeks.

“Todoroki wait!!! Todoroki you’re okay! They’re gone!

Hands pry her bloodied nails away and her energy is sucked away as a kiss is pressed to her cheek.

“You kids I swear, never a dull moment.” Recovery girl tuts.

She passes out again.

-

The next time is much calmer, warm light pools around her eyelids and she cracks them open, reaching a hand up to rub the sleep out of them. But in doing so she jostles the hand that had been resting on her own.

“Todoroki?” Sero whispers, raising his head up slowly, eyes widening, “Todoroki!!”

He lunges forward, encasing Shouto in a bear hug.

“Oi, hands off, she’s in a hospital bed for fuck’s sake tape face.”

“Right,” Sero smiles sheepishly, pulling back, “right sorry.

“It’s okay,” Shouto admits, because she really has no idea why there’s any need to be careful, “I’m fine.”

“Oh?” Katsuki’s raised eyebrows suggest she said something wrong, “You call a nasty concussion and almost clawing your own eyes out fucking fine? Guess we have different definitions of the word.”

Shouto frowns, “I don’t remember that last bit.”

Her head hurts slightly, but she feels like she would remember something like that even through a concussion.

She tracks her memory back to before, but she can’t quite seem to remember-

The van, the men, the smell, the sound as he shoved his-

“Shouto?”

She snaps her head up, “Huh?”

“Sorry, you were quiet for a bit,” Midoriya rests a hand on her blanketed leg and rubs it back and forth, “god nervous. You alright?”

They’re all staring at her now.

“Does he know I’m here?”

All three sets of eyes darken, but it’s Midoriya who speaks up.

“He doesn’t matter. Aizawa has custody of you as of now. Your pitiful excuse for a sperm donor has been taken into police custody for aiding in the rape and kidnapping of a minor.”

Shouto gets a distant look in her eye, “Oh” is all she says.

“They didn’t get that far,” Sero gestures to her bandaged torso, where one of the men had tried to take off her uniform pants.

“But they still-” She begins, suddenly nauseous.

“Yeah, they did. And that bastard has been taken into custody just like the rest of em’, he’s not getting out for awhile, especially since the DNA samples matched.” Bakugo informs her.

“Oh,” Shouto hums absently, “there were samples.”

“Shouto, you with us?” Midroriya squeezes her ankle gently, but she doesn’t respond, “Everything’s gonna be alright now. You can rest.”

And she does.

[howdywrites]

Distractions

- An In The Woods Somewhere drabble

Description: The aftermath of a violent zombie attack leaves Jackie shaken and Mara's there to pick up the pieces.

WC: 1.5k~ Warnings: (NOTE: this is a New Adult wip) blood, descriptions of gore and death, hurt/comfort, hints at PTSD

[WIP Intro]

My hand’s in his chest.

Jackie’s ragged breathing mixed with the pounding of her heart in her ears. She became aware of every sensation encompassing her trembling hands. Sharp bone and squirming innards. Blood so old and rancid it left her fist coated in its stomach churning viscosity. The smell of it burned her nose.

My hand’s in his fucking chest.

A voice, barely audible over the panicked thoughts echoing in her skull, called to her. Jackie’s eyes remained transfixed on the collapsed chest beneath her. She crouched over the man who had attacked her - if one could call it a man at all. His yellowed eyes stared at the stars above them, the light far from gone. His neck bent at an unnatural angle and the hunting knife she managed to wrestle off of him was now buried between his ribs. She gripped its leather handle for dear life, lost in the gore of his wound.

“Jackie.” Mara’s voice came to her like a freight train. A touch harsh and loud enough to pull her attention away from one of the cracked bones that dug into the back of her hand. Jackie’s head whipped around, meeting the soft, weary eyes of the woman she saved. “Jackie. Let go of the knife.” Her voice was soft. Softer than she’d ever heard from here in their two long days together. No snarky quips or barking orders. She beckoned to her like a cool oasis in a desert.

Jackie half expected the more experienced woman to be pissed at her for letting the killing get to her. Even after all they’d been through. But this… this was going to stick with her. Even with her own mind screaming at her to let go of the weapon and remove herself from the blood that began to soak into the knees of her jeans, she couldn’t release her grip on the damned thing.

“I… I can’t. Mara, I can’t-” She didn’t recognize her own voice. Shrill and panicked, she barely managed to swallow the sob growing in the back of her throat. “It’s stuck - I’m stuck!”

A quiet hush passed Mara’s lips. Jackie turned her face away so she wouldn’t see the hot tears that defied her and slipped down her cheeks. A warm, lithe body pressed against her back. Arms wrapped around her, grime coated hands taking her wrists. The lean muscle of her arms encased her protectively.

“Then let me do it. C’mon, let me free you.”

Jackie trembled. The sob won. Through blurry tears she watched as Mara’s fingers wrenched her own off the hilt of the blade. The muscle in her wrist ached terribly like the time in college when she gave herself carpal tunnel from writing two essays in a row. Despite the pain, they shook uncontrollably.

The chest against her back rumbled; Mara uttered a low groan as she hoisted Jackie off the dead man’s limp form. They stumbled backwards until they reached the mouth of the cave they had been hiding in for the past few hours to catch their breath.

Another sob wracked her chest, echoing off the jagged stone walls and high ceiling. Somewhere, in the distant woods, a high pitched yowling signalled danger. More of the fuckers lurked somewhere in the darkness. Mara squeezed her against her, mouth brushing against her ear. “Not here.” Her warm breath warned in a whisper. “The falls. Wait until the falls.”

Jackie’s breath fluttered in short bursts. Everything within her wanted to break down crying where they stood. Throw a fit that could shake the heavens and ultimately end the nightmare they were trapped in. But she choked back her whimpers and stumbled when Mara’s body left hers. A hand remained under her elbow, guiding her.

“This way. Carefully.”

Limbs carried her on their own. Her mind was too busy preoccupied with the violent attack playing over and over again like a rancid movie. Except it was her hands. Her feet. Her voice that cried out when she dealt the final blow.

Jackie’s ankle twisted oddly for a second as she lost her balance along the rocky shore of Sky Pond. Mara kept her upright, by some miracle, picking up their pace towards the Timberline Falls straight ahead. The sound of rushing water allowed her to cry again, as long as she kept the sobbing at bay. More tears slipped down her cheeks, cooling her hot flesh and releasing some of the pent up terror still lingering within her.

Timberline Fall’s grew louder the closer they approached it. Both of them surveyed their surroundings, making sure no one - and no thing - was close enough to attack. Jackie pulled her hand from Mara’s, pushing past her to get to a broad, flat boulder beside the body of water. Icy sprinkles fell from overhead, misting her. Relief joined hand in hand with the pain inside of her.

Before she knew it, Jackie’s screams drowned in the roar of Timberline.

-

It was uncertain how much time passed. The moon still hung high overhead, providing pale light. The falls became a background rumble that Jackie tuned out not long after arriving. The occasional whimper rattled in her throat, but it seemed she had cried every tear she could in the time they remained by the edge of Sky Pond.

At some point, she had been coaxed back to the cave. The dead man was nowhere in sight - something of Mara’s doing. Smears of his blood still painted the stone, but without his rotting corpse, there wasn’t much to see.

Jackie’s face pressed against warm skin. She wheezed, trying to conjure up another sob to finally drain her of energy. But it never came. Mara smelled like the earth. Strong and natural, with a hint of campfire and sweat. Not that she minded. After their two days together, she almost found it more comforting than her mother’s perfume or her past girlfriend’s deodorant. It was all Mara.

It took a small deal of effort to peel her tacky, tear-streaked cheek off of the bare shoulder she rested against. There, lounging by their backpacks, Mara held her and worked tirelessly to get the last of the rotten blood out from the creases of Jackie’s knuckles. Very few words were shared between them since her breakdown at the falls, but when she laid her head against her chest she let the sound of her steady heartbeat ground her.

“I’m sorry.” Though Jackie didn’t exactly know what she was apologizing for. Those dark eyes fluttered, a brow raising as they looked down at her.

“What have I told you about apologizing too much, Jackie?” The tease was light. Mara’s voice frayed, somehow mustering a small smile. “I’m just cleaning you up. I know what the scent of death can do to a person. You’ve dealt with enough. Just let me do this for you.”

Jackie went quiet, watching as Mara’s hands turned hers over so her palms faced up. The handkerchief she used was tossed aside. With both of their hands clean, she interlaced their fingers. The memory of the dead man’s face tried to surface, but the forehead that nestled against hers flung it back into the void.

“What are you thinking about?” Mara’s inquiry lingered unanswered for a moment. What was she thinking about? Images of the violence from the past days flickered but never formed completely at the front of her mind. Her brain buzzed with the touch. The gentleness in the warrior’s actions.

“Him. Or at least, I was.” Jackie’s breathing went shallow again. They were so close right then. She could feel her warm breath against her face. “I was thinking about the noise he made… but you’re kind of making it hard to do that right now.”

“Am I?” Mara snorted, pulling her head back from hers for a moment. Humor lingered on her exhausted gaze. “Don’t tell me you’ve caught feelings for some crazy bitch you met during a zombie apocalypse.”

Well that ruined the moment. Embarrassed, Jackie turned her face away and cast her gaze to the streaks of moonlight that lit up the front of the cave. A hand left one of hers. Warm fingers caressed the side of her jaw, pulling her gaze back to Mara. She looked serious then. Her brows lowered in concentration. They locked eyes for what seemed like hours.

Mara leaned in. Her lips were so close to hers. So fucking close. What a perfect distraction they were, even as they hovered ever so slightly next to hers. Jackie’s breath hitched in her throat and she watched her through her lashes. She gave a small nod, letting her know this was a welcomed advance.

She tasted of salt and sweet tobacco. Far better than the scent of blood or death. Jackie hummed against her lips, her hands trembling against. Only this time it was from the rush of electricity that coursed through her veins at the tender affection. Mara deepened the kiss, her hand still firmly against her jaw. A thumb swiped along her cheek bone, tickling her like a butterfly’s wings.

They only broke so she could catch her breath. After all her crying, Jackie still wasn’t sure how to breathe properly. The humor returned to Mara’s face and she murmured against her lips.

“Hope you like crazy, princess. You’re going to be stuck with me for a while”

-

ITWS Taglist (let me know if you'd like to be added!): @lordkingsmith @celestialbunnistories @aeslin-writes @writinginslowmotion @chayscribbles @theramwrites @tiredlittleoldme @sapphcon-ic @hazard-writes @lookingmuchimproved @themidnxghtwriter @draculinawrites @aetherwrites @svpphicwrites @maxgraybooks @writeherewaiting @sjjsalamanders @thelittlestspider @ashen-crest @writtendevastation @ravesthewriter @adie-dee @christine-thinks @cream-and-tea @reeseweston @languageisbae @mellowkittenwrites @yejidoesthings

[cherryplasmids]

☆ we can do this, together ☆

pairing: queen maeve x supe!reader

fandom: the boys—season 2

prompt: compound v is exposed to the world and you’re dealing with the repercussion of being a lab rat for vought. 

notes: first time writing for the boys, so pleaseeee be tender with me — requested by: @girlsgettingitdone​ — check out my other works; masterlist

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

      The news anchor droned in the background, repeating the same information for the tenth time in a row. All the news channels did. You listened until all the details became embedded in your brain—until you realized you were an embodiment of everyone's worst nightmare.

Your thumb trails over the glass picture frame in your hands while the news cuts to a commercial break. Homelander, the biggest fraud of them all, prances around in his nationalistic getup, advertising the latest Vought restaurant. You don't dwell on it long enough to find humor in the situation since all your attention is focused on the picture. Your grip tightens around the frame, cracks immediately forming.

You're eight years old, dressed in your favorite pale blue superhero costume with hair accessories to match. The smile on your face, bright and big like the way your parents drilled into you, gave the impression that you were excited to be there. If anyone took a close look, they would have noticed your red eyes and tear-stained cheeks.

"You know I performed five times that day. After every show, I cried to go on the Ferris wheel, but my dad would yell at me to stop being ungrateful. I fainted from exhaustion after they took this photo. The next day, my mom pulled me out of second grade to be a full-time performer." You caress your young face before breaking the frame completely, small shards of glass pricking your skin. It felt nice to actually feel something besides numbness.

"To think I could trust my own parents." An empty laugh escapes you as you release the broken frame, watching it fall to the floor. Then you look up to see Maeve's reflection through the hanging mirror. Maeve, donned in her ugly costume, has her hands on her waist in her signature stance. This Vought approved version of her makes your heart clench in shame and sadness.

"Were you ever going to tell me?” Her dark green eyes meet your own gaze through the mirror. Maeve releases a deep sigh but keeps silent.

You whip around with lightning speed, staring at her with wide eyes filled with tears teetering your lashline. "I trusted you." Your lips tremble, tears teetering over your lashline.

"You know I couldn't." Maeve steps forward with arms reaching out to you. You step back immediately. "Please."

You shake your head. " I had my life taken from me even before it began. "

"So did I!" You glare at her, causing her to drop her hands and sigh again. "Vought would've killed us both if I told you the truth."

"So!" You throw your arms up in. "You're going to tell me that being paraded around like a caged animal is the better option."

"Living will always be the better option."

You huff out a sarcastic laugh. "Of course, you're right. Being Vought's puppets while they take hundreds of more innocent lives is the better option. You seem to think so. After all, you're their third-biggest commodity."

Another commercial comes on—this time advertising a Queen Maeve feminine hygiene product that closing your eyes. You want to laugh at the absurd timing but you're too drained to commit to that action. Maeve physically cringes, mimicking your actions. When the commercial ends, the noise from the streets down below fills the pregnant pause.

"What can I do to fix this? Fix us?"

"Tell me everything you know about Vought. Every secret, lie, all the fuck-ups—everything."

"You know I can't."

"If Starlight can, you can. You just don't want to give up your cushy life as Vought's prized princ—"

"I love you!" Her wild eyes turn a darker shade of green to point where it looks black. "What don't you understand that? Everything I hid from you was so I can protect you from Vought, from Homelander. If he found out about you, about us, then he'll murder you without a second thought."

"Again, is that really so bad?" You whisper, tears finally falling over your lashline. Maeve's eyes start to water as well when she takes another step toward you. This time, you stay put and she takes this as a hint to go to you.

She pulls you into her arms just as you collapse onto the floor, rocking you back and forth as you sobbed into her chest—crying for the potential normalcy you could've had if Vought never existed. Imaginary knives pierce your heart, stabbing it over and over again, and you start gasping for air. Closing your eyes tightly, forehead resting on Maeve's shoulder.

She pulls away enough to face you, placing her hands on your cheeks. "I'm here for you, okay? I won't let anyone harm you."

You exhale shakily, feeling some of the haze lifting, allowing some breath onto your lungs. Maeve's unyielding strength influences you to gain some yourself, finding yourself nodding along with her words.

"You can't keep doing this alone," She whispers, pressing a kiss to your forehead."

You pull away from her, backing away just to slightest to see her face fall and hiccup out a sentence. "And you can't keep being selfish enough to sacrifice millions of lives for me."

"I'm not—"

The expression you give her silences her immediately. You wipe your tears and snot on your black long-sleeved t-shirt, then kneel in front of your former girlfriend. "I'm tired of sitting idly by. I'm going to help Starlight and her friends take down Vought, with or without your help. And I'm telling you as Maeve, my ex-girlfriend who used to buy three big bags of Cheeto puffs and wouldn't share with me—not Queen Maeve, Vought's alcoholic dancing monkey."

Her head lowers, shoulders slumping and hands trembling. Grabbing her hands, you hold them, caressing them. "Be the hero you want to be."

She lifts her head, a crooked half-smile on her lips, a few tears escaping the corners of her eyes. She stares at you for a bit before nodding. You bring her into a tight hug, one that you know she needed for a long time. 

────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──────

word count: 1,012 published: november , 2020 edited: n/a tagging those interested in a previous post: @minimartian​ @amelialistree @gottamakethiswork​ @lyssapedia @confused-marshmallow​ @parkersgold​

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Random Flash Rogue Headcanons

Ideas that pop up a lot in my fanfics and fanart: 

-Mick Rory was a farm kid. 

-Roscoe Neyle Dillon is the son of Reginald Norton Dillon, a well-to-do banker, and Rosa Nicole Dillon, his rather pliant, weak-willed wife. Reginald held his son to punishingly high standards and was quick to criticize, berate, and threaten his son when he failed to live up to them. Rosa never intervened. 

-Roscoe grew up in North Ridge, a suburb of Central City. He is on the autism spectrum, but grew up before it was widely recognized. He was constantly bullied by his peers and was disliked by most of his teachers because of his odd behavior. He had a number of special interests but the most prominent was, of course, tops. 

-Roscoe is one of only three Rogues to attend high school and one of only two to have attended college. Lisa and Hartley also both graduated from high school, and Hartley also went to college. Roscoe studied (possibly has a degree in) physics. 

-Roscoe’s parents currently live in Bridgeville. 

-Mark (Marco) Mardon is the son of Patricia (Paloma) and Matthew (Matias) Mardon, and the younger brother of Clyde (Claudio) Mardon. His parents immigrated from Guatemala when he was a month and a half old and Clyde was about a year old. Both parents were college-educated, which made the process simpler than it otherwise would have been, and the family initially settled in Dunhurst, a suburb of Central City. However, they were never accepted there, and they eventually left the town after persistent harassment from the Clan of the Fiery Cross. 

-They resettled in Bridgeville, and Matias and Paloma went to great pains to hide the fact that they were immigrants, Americanizing their names and refusing to let their sons speak Spanish outside of the home. Patricia became the head of the local library, and Matthew took a job as a teacher of geography at the local high school. The family eventually settled fairly comfortably in the middle class. 

-Clyde was only 11 months older than Mark, so they were always in the same year at school. He was handsome, intelligent, popular, and athletic. Mark, by contrast, was painfully average. He couldn’t live up to the standard set up by his parents’ golden child, and eventually, he stopped trying, knowing that he would never measure up. He and Clyde were very close, but their relationship was often strained by the fact that Mark was so often compared unfavorably to Clyde.

-Mark dropped out of high school at 16 and ran away, eventually drifting into petty theft due to his lack of direction. Clyde, meanwhile, graduated high school early and earned a degree in meteorology. He started work on the Weather Wand when he was still in college, but didn’t finish it until he was 23. He died not long after of congenital heart failure, and then his shiftless younger brother strolled in and took the wand for himself. 

-Samuel Joseph Scudder was born to Percival and Martha Scudder. Unfortunately, Percival contracted cancer a few months before Sam was born and died when his son was only 7 months old, leaving his wife with dozens of medical bills. The Scudders had never been particularly well-off, so Martha was forced to move into an apartment complex on Baker Street, colloquially known as Skid Row, where she would raise her young son. 

-Martha was a talented seamstress, so much so that she was eventually hired by the Rathaways. While this provided steady work, the Rathaways were extremely demanding employers, and so Martha wasn’t able to be at home with her son as much as she would’ve liked.

-Young Sam loved cowboy movies and superhero comics. He was especially fond of the JSA and gathered a collection of JSA comics that he still owns (currently, he hides them in the Mirror Realm so the other Rogues won’t find out about them). He was also a boy scout and eventually became an Eagle Scout. He was highly intelligent and generally did well in school, and he was close friends with Jennifer Conners, who lived in the same apartment complex he did. When they entered high school, the two started dating, and even fantasized about getting married. 

-Unfortunately, life on Baker Street was less than ideal. Sam was embarrassed by the shabby state of his clothes and possessions, had to watch as his mother tried to figure out how to pay their bills, and was surrounded by violence. Fights were common in the apartment complex where Sam lived, and, when he was 15 years old, he and Jennifer bore witness to Jennifer’s father being brutally shot as they came home from school. Both were traumatized. Jennifer began a years-long struggle with PTSD, and Sam’s anxiety levels went through the roof. Not wanting to burden his mother and knowing that they didn’t have enough money for therapy, Sam turned to cigarettes, and then alcohol, in the hopes of relieving his anxiety. As he spiraled into addiction, he got mixed up with the school’s party crowd, and dropped out at 17. He drifted into a life of crime and was sent to prison at age 19 for robbing a convenience store. In this prison, he would mostly break his alcohol addiction, but his smoking habit only got worse. More importantly, however, while serving his sentence for this crime, he would discover the Mirror Realm. 

-Sam loves his mother, but he avoids her because he knows his actions disappoint and worry her. His ex-girlfriend, Jennifer Conners, though continually struggling with PTSD, managed to graduate from both high school and college, and currently works as a school counselor. Sam avoids her, too, but still holds a bit of a candle for her. 

-Mrs. McCulloch’s first name is Eva. She is devoutly Catholic, and, as a result, Evan is also devoutly Catholic (albeit a very confused Catholic). He goes to Mass at least once a week, believes priests are basically infallible, and will threaten to kill you if you so much as look at a nun funny. He goes to Confession at least once a month and would probably go more often if each session didn’t last three hours. 

-Giovanni Giuseppi (James Jesse) is the son of Helen and Alessandro Giuseppi, both of whom are the children of Italian immigrants. He has a very, very, very large extended family, most of whom are in the circus with his parents. Many of them speak Italian; while James isn’t fluent in the language, he can understand it quite well and speak it well enough to get by. The whole family is very emotionally demonstrative and physically affectionate, which is part of why James has no concept of personal space. His relatives include his Zia Catalina (who runs an Italian restaurant), his Nonna Gianna, his Nonno Antonio, his Nonno Aberto, his Nonna Lucrezia, his Zio Luca, his Aunt Stella, his Zio Angelo, his Zia Loretta, his Zia Lucia, his Zio Armani, his Aunt Karen, his Zia Bianca, his Zio Rocco, his Zio Romeo, his Aunt Olivia, his Zia Etta, his Zio Dante, his Uncle Fred, his Aunt Susan, his Uncle Harold, his Aunt Lydia, his cousins Bobby and Susie and Maria and Carly and Matthew and Frank and Julia and Freddie and Joseph and Lucy, and his cousins’ kids, Angela and Charlie and Stefano and Gian and Marsha and Rose and Kaitlyn and Steve. He’s not entirely sure how he’s related to most of them. James’ family is all technically Catholic, mainly because they’re all Italian, but only about half of them are practicing Catholics. 

-James invented the airwalker shoes when he was 13 years old. 

-There was a very large age gap between Leonard and Lisa’s parents when they got married. This is because Larry/Lewis Snart was a 40-year-old creeper who got a 15-year-old girl pregnant. Shirley married him because she had nowhere else to go; her parents kicked her out when she got pregnant. She dropped out of high school soon after, and, after several years of abuse, she ran away, leaving Len and Lisa alone with Larry/Lewis.

-Len is about 5 years older than Lisa; he dropped out of high school at 14 so that he could support her and left home at 18. He continued to send money to her after he left, even after she became a professional figure skater. 

-Lisa’s teenaged years were one long nightmare. She was a beautiful young woman, but because of her background, her mother’s reputation as a loose woman, and her father constantly calling her nasty names, she was demonized by the “nice, proper” people of her neighborhood as a temptress, someone who would lead their sons astray. (This in spite of the fact that they were often the ones making advances on her.) Her father also became increasingly abusive towards her, as Leonard had left the home and, as she got older, Lisa started to remind him of his wife. In response, she threw herself into her figure skating and tried to shut the rest of the world out. By the time she was 16, she was already one of the most talented skaters in the Midwest, and when she was 17, she left her father’s house and moved in with another girl on her skating team for the rest of high school. She graduated with a B+ average and was promptly snapped up by a professional figure skating team. Lisa had managed to escape-at least physically. Her teenaged years left her convinced that her beauty was something dangerous; something evil, and it took Roscoe over a year to break down her defenses when they met. However, once he did, she fell deeply in love. Finally, she had found someone who would never abandon her. 

-Roscoe, for his part, was equally in love. After years of being seen as a socially awkward weirdo, he had found someone who thought he was sophisticated and intelligent; someone who didn’t laugh at his tops and who didn’t seem bothered by his quirks. It was intoxicating. 

-Geraldine is 20 years younger than Hartley; she was born to replace him as the heir to the Rathaway fortune. 

-Hartley’s parents were in their thirties when he was born. Both of them came from long-established “old money” families; their marriage was more the result of a business deal between Hartley’s grandparents than any sort of romantic relationship. Prior to her marriage, Rachel was a Kane. Her uncle was the father of Jacob Kane (father to Kathy Kane) and Martha Wayne (nee Kane), making her the first cousin of Bruce Wayne’s mother. Red hair runs in the Kane family, and she passed it on to both of her children. 

-Similarly, Hartley’s paternal grandmother was originally a Queen before marrying into the Rathaway family. And that’s only the tip of the iceberg: Hartley’s at least a distant relative of most of the wealthiest people in the DCU. 

-Geraldine is on the autism spectrum; she’s able to mask her symptoms well enough that her parents haven’t decided to pull the “let’s fix her with expensive surgeries” trick that they used when Hartley was born deaf. 

-Hartley’s parents engaged him to a girl named Kathryn Kendell, the heir to a fast food corporation, when he was 18; nothing came of it because he got himself disowned before the marriage could actually happen. 

-Hartley’s parents are intensely controlling and basically make all the decisions in their children’s lives without actually asking them for their opinions. 

-Len Snart is prone to ulcers.

-Albert and Rita Desmond have an infant son named Alan. He likes to chew on his father’s Philosopher’s Stone. Alvin adores his “astral nephew” and kept showing up at Albert’s house uninvited to see him. Eventually Albert got tired of Alvin breaking in and put him on their baby-sitting list. Rita is less than thrilled by this but is at least pleased that Alan keeps Alvin from trying to ruin Albert’s life. 

-George Harkness has two half-brothers: an older brother named Tom Harkness, the son of Agnes and Ian Harkness, and a much younger brother named Walter Wiggins, the 12-year-old son of W.W. Wiggins and his wife. (All these characters are canonical, but it’s never actually been officially stated that this is the case.) 

-Jai West idolizes Jay Garrick and plans to take up his costume someday. 

-Josh Jackam-Mardon’s weather-controlling abilities are directly tied to his mood. When he’s happy, it’s sunny and he makes rainbows. If he’s cold, the temperature will increase. If he’s hot, the temperature will drop and it might even start snowing. If he’s sad, it rains. If he throws a temper tantrum, it creates a thunderstorm-and if he’s really upset, a tornado will form. 

-When Barry Allen was 13, he paid the admission fee that was required in order to meet the members of the JSA for both himself and a 9-year-old Sam Scudder. It’s one of both men’s fondest memories, and neither realizes that the other was the boy who met the JSA with him on that day. 

-Axel Walker is the son of Alan Walker and Alice Strickland. His father is a used car salesman who left his wife for Axel’s stepmother, Barbie, when Axel was 7 years old. Axel does not like Barbie and isn’t particularly happy with his father, either. Axel’s mother is Jewish. As such, so is Axel (although Axel doesn’t practice his faith much, if at all.) He can read a bit of Hebrew and speak a bit of Yiddish. 

-Eobard Thawne is convinced that he is an expert in 21st-century technology. The result: “This is a historical device called a toaster. It served as a primitive form of climate control!” 

-Abra Kadabra, by contrast, spends most of his time in the 21st century baffled by the devices used by these primitive savages. What sort of communication device doesn’t send a perfect three-dimensional copy of your body to the person you’re talking to? What kind of food-preparation device takes twenty minutes to cook a meal? Why don’t their hygiene devices instantly clean their bodies of dirt and odors instead of requiring water that’s never a comfortable temperature? HOW DO YOU OPERATE THIS ‘REMOTE CONTROL’? This makes him a very annoying house guest. 

-Mick Rory is an accomplished cook, home repairman, and knitter. 

-Albert Desmond is often so lost in thought that he puts his keys in the refrigerator. 

-All of the Rogues are more scared of Iris Allen than they are of Barry. And with good reason. 

-Owen Mercer is good friends with Joan Garrick. 

-Sam is developing the early stages of emphysema but refuses to admit it because it would mean having to try to kick his smoking habit. 

-Mick Rory’s body is covered by third-degree burns, and his voice is unnaturally raspy because of all the smoke inhalation he’s undergone over the years. 

-Mark Mardon is a horrible klutz. If he can trip over something, he will end up doing it. This is part of why he likes being able to fly so much. 

-Len Snart and Sam Scudder are huge fans of Central and Keystone City’s sports teams. Linda Park-West is among the few who can rival their civic pride in this regard. Evan and Digger are both big fans of rugby and cricket. Hartley is solely a baseball fan; the other Rogues don’t much care about sports unless betting is involved. 

-Mark Mardon watches the weather channel solely so he can make sure that the reporter’s predictions are wrong. 

-Digger loves the great outdoors and can hike for hours.

-Mark Mardon is terrible at cards but gambles constantly anyway. He’s lost more money than he’s ever stolen trying to win bets. James, by contrast, is a master cardsharp. 

-Sam and Roscoe spend more money on clothes (and more time in the shower) than the rest of the male Rogues combined.  

-Dexter Miles knows the birthdays of everyone in the Twin Cities. No one knows how he knows this, he just does. When it’s a Rogue’s birthday, the museum opens a exhibit exclusively about them for a few days. The Rogues don’t know this is intentional and it’s really starting to freak them out. 

-When the Rogues found out that the Flash Museum hires people to dress up as them and teach young visitors about science, Sam Scudder waited for a day when the museum’s ‘Mirror Master’ called in sick and showed up in his place. All the visitors to the museum that day were agreed that he was the best “Mirror Master” the museum had ever had. 

-James once went to the Flash Museum in full costume and stood right by one of the statues of him. He even posed in exactly the same way. He was immediately informed by a patron that he was much too blonde to be the real Trickster. James found the whole experience very amusing.

-Roscoe insists that all the statues of him at the Flash Museum make him look fat. Lisa thinks that’s ridiculous and says that they’re almost as handsome as the genuine article. Len agrees that the statues make Roscoe look fat and thinks it’s hilarious. 

-All three of the Flashes have, of course, been to the Flash Museum while in costume. Like James, they are often told that they don’t look anything like the real Flashes. Barry and Jay are baffled by this; Wally thinks it’s funny. 

-Mick Rory donated his chili recipe to the Flash Museum’s diner. It’s one of the more popular dishes amongst people who love spicy food. 

-Wally is trying to convince his wife to get the kids a pet cheetah. “Come on, honey! It’ll be good for the twins to have a pet who can keep up with them!”