#too much shit doesn't add up around her

[maybanksprincess]

seven minutes in heaven

warnings: suggestive but no actual smut, mature themes, dry humping, tongue kissing.

summary: a game of seven minutes in heaven leads to reader and jj stuck in a closet together.

pairings: childhood!bsf!jj x childhood!bsf!reader

requested by this ask (thank you anon!) i dont know much about the game, so if i got one of the steps wrong, im sorry in advance.

you and the rest of the pogues gathered together on a saturday night to drink beers, smoke weed, and play spin the bottle. typical pogue shit.

all of you were sat in a circle on the carpet in the living room floor of the chateau. there was a glass beer bottle in the middle of all seven of you.

for a half hour, the game was spin the bottle. everyone's facial expressions quickly grew bored. John B, and Sarah were talking about something totally different, Pope and Cleo gone to grab a new crate of beers.

After a few more moments of all of you staring at the wall blankly, Kiara's the first to break the awkward silence. "hey what's that game we all used to play when we were sophmores?" she asks, twirling a piece of her curly hair around her pointer finger.

after kiara speaks, jjs facial expression changes to one of interest. he thinks for a moment and then speaks, "the one where you get locked in a closet for like ten minutes?" he asks

Pope rounds the corner with a few beers tucked in his arm. Cleo not far behind him "seven minutes." he corrects, pointing a finger at him.

jj rolls his eyes at the correction and mimics a mouth with his hand, mocking his words "seven minutes" he says, trying his best to sound as much like pope as possible.

you flick the back of jjs neck, mumbling a shut up to him. he lets out a high pitched ow and rolls his eyes, but ultimately he stops his mocking.

John b turns back towards the group at the mention of the new game. "are we finally gonna play something other than spin the bottle? im kinda tired of landing on Sarah." he teases

Sarah shoves him playfully, and then turns back to the topic of conversation. "Yeah we should play, it sounds fun. how does it work?" she asks, tilting her head slightly.

Pope speaks up this time, "we spin a bottle for two people, whichever two people it lands on, they go in a closet together for seven minutes to do whatever they want." he adds with a hint of suggestion at the end of his sentence.

jj smirks and turns to look at you, memories of the last time you two played this game when you were fifteen, when you shared your first kiss.

it was the first kiss for both of you, so it was sloppy and had a lot of teeth and tongue, it was sickening to think about, but never forgotten.

jj pipes up next, "yup we can play. this games borin' anyways." he says with a shrug.

everyone else agrees and shifts themselves back into a circle on the carpet. Pope places the bottle in the middle, then darting his eyes from one pogue to another.

"so whos first?" pope speaks

jj doesn't waste a second in volunteering to go first. "me! uh- ill spin first." he says, clearing his throat. everyones eyes fly to jj, giving him a questioning look.

"dude you answered that way too fast." john b says with a growing smirk on his face, his eyes now flickering between me and jj sitting beside one another.

"dude shut up!" jj says, before reaching forward and spinning the glass bottle, he crosses his arms and sneakily crosses his fingers hoping, praying, that it lands on you.

everyones eyes are glued intensely to the bottle, the tension in the small room palpable.

eventually the bottle comes to a stop, the tip of it pointing right to your knee. jj has to hold back from jumping up and saying something like hell yeah!

he instantly stands up, holding his hand out for you to take. "cmon m'lady." he teases, and looks at you with his typical shit eating grin.

you roll your eyes and take his hand, standing up and walking to the closed closet with him.

"i bet everyone can guess what they're gonna do in that closet." john b says with a smirk, as he watches jj open the closet door and enter.

"gross! i dont even wanna think about it." kie adds on, then everyone starts to whisper about both of you in the open circle.

as you both get in the cramped closet, jj takes a seat on stacked boxes that clearly say "fragile" but he obviously doesn't seem to mind. he looks up at you still standing there awkwardly in the dimly lit space.

"seems oddly familiar, doesn't it?" he teases. your brain floods with memories of you and jj in the same situation back in sophomore year.

you both had been in this exact crammed closet, deciding you could both share you first kiss together. it was sloppy, uncoordinated, and you both were trying to figure out a comfortable spot to place your hands. it was an awkward and uncomfortable kiss, but it was stuck in your brain nonetheless.

"yeah, really familiar." you chuckle nervously, looking around, and tapping your foot on the ground. you avoid eye contact with the blonde, hoping this seven minutes would pass by quickly.

he notices your shift in mood, and he smirks. he spreads his legs and moves his arms behind his head as he speaks.

"you know, were in here for a whole seven minutes. we should put it to good use, right?" he was enjoying making you nervous, and teasing you.

when he doesn't get a response, he gently pulls you onto his lap so your straddling him. he looks up into your eyes in the dimly lit closet, with something you cant quite describe.

before you know it, your both leaning in slowly, jj is the one to connect his lips with yours. the kiss was gentle and chaste at first, your mouths moving passionately against one another.

jjs hands find their way to your waist, gently caressing the flesh. you take that as a sign to move your hands up his torso, then settling your arms around his neck, all while continuing to kiss him passionately.

the kiss grows more intense over time, your tongues fighting for dominance against one another. eventually you catch yourself grinding your hips against his, as you both makeout.

minutes go by, and he finds himself lost in your kisses and the way your grinding your hips against his. his cock doesn't take long to stir in his cargo shorts.

when you feel his buldge press up against you, your hips move a little faster, the kisses becoming more desperate. before you know it, a light is shining in the closet and the sound of the door creaking fills your ears.

you pull away from jjs lips briefly to look at who opened the door.

"seven minutes are up, lovebirds." john b says with a jerk of his head, motioning for you two to get out the closet with a smirk.

[poguehearted77]

Hi!! I saw that your requests were open and I'm a big fan of your work and I was wondering if you could write something for rafe where reader is a pogue and they need to steal something from tanney hill but Rafe comes home unexpectedly and reader is supposed to distract him but they end up fucking >.< tyyy!!!

Oooh this is freaky. I love it.

My requests are still open.

smut!! -> >.<, penetrative sex, rafe gets flashed, dom! rafe, missionary, size kink, tummy bulge, rafe doesn't pull out..

In and out. That was the plan you and Sarah had agreed on. She would search through the office while you guarded the halls to make sure the coast remained clear.

Things got complicated. Plans changed when Sarah realized that Rafe had taken the liberty to add locks onto the cabinets where the files are kept. Your heartbeat drummed through your ears as you noticed the flash of headlights from Rafe's truck shine through the glass windows.

"Shit. Sarah, Rafe's back early. ETA on the files?" you panic, scurrying through the tiles halls until your feet take you into the office where the blonde crouched, picking the lock with a bobby pin. "I've almost got it. Distract Rafe, keep him as far from here as possible."

Your legs carried you as fast as they could, hoping to meet him outside the front door but he was already inside, your head bumping into his firm chest at full force, sending you tumbling to the ground. "Holy shit. What the-" He's mid-curse when he notices the face of the intruder. Your face.

"Y/n? What the hell are you doing in here?" His thoughts beat your lips to the answer as they geared the possibilities. His jaw locks as it dawns on him, "Where's Sarah, huh? Is she in here? You helping her steal from me now too?"

His steps are powerful as they begin to clear the premises but you desperately grab onto his bulging biceps. "No, Rafe! Stop." Not expecting him to obey so easily, he whips around, startling you.

Just over his shoulder, you see Sarah's head peek out of the office. She gives a wave with the needed files in hand. You had to make sure Rafe didn't turn around, at all costs.

"I thought you were different, y'know? I always thought you were too good to be hangin' with those pogues-" He's about to turn around while Sarah sneaks out the back. You do the first idiotic thing that comes to mind. Your fingers are hooking under the fabric of your top and heaving upwards to flash him your tits.

His sentences break off into chopped, undecided stutters and his hands slowly reach for your round mounds. His hands were hesitating until you gave him a slight nod. "H-holy shit. Most fuckin' perfect pair of tits I've ever seen." His mind is racing to catch up with his hands that gently massage your breasts and you let out a soft moan.

That's the last time either of your clothes were still draped across your bodies. The interaction was quickly followed by uncalculated steps and heated kisses toward the couch where he'd laid you down and fucked you dumb.

"You feel that?" Rafe relishes in the depths of your soaked cunt that sucked in his generous length. Summoning him to a state of bliss, serving a sentence he wished would last the rest of his lifetime.

His hand is placed arrogantly on your lower abdomen where the outline of his girth could be seen pushing up against your insides. Surely, the question is rhetorical as you'd been reduced to a whimpering mess under his touch.

"My dick's splittin' you open. You fuckin' like that shit?" His hips snap, and you squeal, your whole body jolting with every moment of his much bigger one. The sight of you beneath him was more than enough to get him riding along the edge of ecstasy.

"You got the best fuckin' pussy on the island, goddamnit." His lower lip is tucked between hiss teeth, doing his best to hold himself back.

Rafe wouldn't deny any allegations of previously imagining having you in this very position, but the reality puts the products of his imagination to great shame. "R-rafe!" You moan, unbelievably turned on by your 'sworn enemy'.

"Yeah-- shit. Me too." It's not long before his thrusts begin to falter with strained grunts but added force, and he cums not long after you do. He slowly pulls out, admiring the stringy white cum that kept you connected before he realizes what he's done.

"Rafe..." You slowly sit up, dreading the consequences of his actions. "Fuck--I know, shit. I jus' got so caught up- and your pussy jus' felt so good. I wasn't thinking straight." You're both scavenging to get your clothes on as he rambles on.

He reaches into his back pocket and grabs a wad of cash, "Go get a plan B, and we can both act like this never happened, okay?" With a cold gaze, you pocket the money before rushing outside where the Twinkie is waiting for you around the corner out of sight.

"Y/n! Oh my god what took you so long? We thought Rafe had done something to you." Sarah gasps once you finally pull open the doors of the van. Your head shakes, "Nothing. Just Rafe being Rafe, let's go."

[evilminji]

Ooooh~ Drink mix up? >.>

Because! Wes DID, in fact, get that dream job. HAS learned... after many, many hours of "beat about the head and shoulders with an ethics pamphlet by his great aunt", to keep his mouth shut! Family curse of Sight? WHAT family curse?

He doesn't see shit! Mind your business.

What're you? A cop?

Look, he sent Fenton a gift basket. He was a shitty, shitty "I have to be RIGHT and nothing else matters!" Stubborn lil asshole of a kid. He got better. Grew up. No one is there best Self during puberty. He DOES, in fact, regret it.

Which is WHY, he is deliberately ignoring Kent's terrible, awful, paper-thin, "who meee~?" Aw shucks BULLSHIT excuse of a disguise, like it isn't blatantly obvious he's Superman. Yep. Nothing to see here! Nothing but us chickens! Mmmmm, morning coffee! Delicious.

But see, here's the THING.

The Itty, bitty, teeny lil PROBLEM...

Wes grew up in Amity "Totally Not Supernatural Hotspot For Centuries" Park. He is... to put it mildly, genetically? A freak. His biology is ALL fucked up. Everyone's is. And it WAS NOT made better by the Fenton's playing fast and loose with their hell basement. The Ectoplasmic NUKE that was that portal.

There is a REASON his morning coffee? Is COVERED. Contained. Fenton brand, LEAD LINED, specialty cups. The sort that can't be EATEN from the inside out. Eroded after a few uses. They're ugly as sin, but they work. He even ordered a few covers from Star's etsy shop. (Apparently he wasn't the only one who hated how ugly they looked. Good for her though, he heard it was doing well.)

He SAYS this? 'Cause his morning brew is less... straight COFFEE... and more... how to put this? A blend? Brew? Potion, really. Like an energy drink. From hell. Or, partially at least, the Zone. It's the combination of roots, seeds, and a few dried berries. Kinda like a tea, actually!

Tasty. Adds this nice fruity, warmth. A zing. Goes GREAT with the coffee. And it really perks you up... if you are Limnal. If you AREN'T? It'll desolve your esophagus like swallowing straight acid. And that's not TOUCHING the... witch-y, more Seer specific bit of the blend.

That stuff is medicinal. You know, "calm the mind" and "mental clarity". That sorta thing. With a good ol helping of "don't blurt out everyone's secrets, you spacey bitch! For the love of God, those are our INSIDE THOUGHTS!". Which? Really helpful! Infinitely less likely to get decked. It's a family staple.

Poisonous, though.

They're fine cause they've basically developed an immunity to that part, but like? Wouldn't recommend. It's why he NEVER shares his drinks. Food? On occasion. If he PLANS it and knows not to add and interesting spices. But DRINKS? Never. Weston family brews are basically NEVER safe.

Which? Begs the Very Important Question ™!

Who's Coffee Is This?

Cause it SURE AS FUCK AINT HIS!

You never realize quite how fast you can go from "completely calm and kinda sleepy" to "bomb strapped to my chest, primal panic AWAKE" until it happens to you. His coffee was ON HIS DESK. People have passed by. He talked to them. Cups put down and picked up. Lazy early morning. He doesn't even register, really, as his chair crashes to the ground.

He's shouting.

People confused. They don't realize yet. His head whips around, looking for that distinct cover. Before it's too late. Before someone takes that fatal sip. He spots it. Bolting from his desk. Crashing through coworkers, over desks. Chaos and outrage. "It's 'just' coffee!" They cry.

Kent turns, confused. Pretending. Raises his (HIS! Oh god!) cup to his lips, unknowing. Wes SCREAMS a warning. But he doesn't listen. "It's 'just' coffee" They never listen. Curse of Cassandra. God's damn it. This is why his family fucking CONVERTED!

He TACKLES the man of steel.

RIPS his cup away from him, knows his eyes are frantic. How much have you had?! Spit it out! Wes voice ECHOES in the sudden silence. I'm a META, Kent! It could KILL YOU!

And oh, Oh NOW they get it. Or perhaps it is the burn in his mouth that finally registers. He rolls, spits oil slick nebulae that eat away the floor. There is blood mixed within it. It took mere moments. Superman stares, transfixed and horrified, as Wes shakes. He... he should probably get off of him.

He'll move in a moment.

When his legs no longer feel weak from terror.

The news room is in chaos. Lane kneeling by her husband, Perry trying to do damage control. He... he's probably gonna lose his job, isn't he? Wes wants to cry. Protection laws only go so far, after all. And warning his boss about his dietary needs means jack shit, after an incident like this. Beloved as Kent is. Not that anyone likely believed him.

They never do.

And now he's nearly killed Superman.

@hypewinter @hdgnj @legitimatesatanspawn @nerdpoe @lolottes @babbling-babull @mutable-manifestation @dcxdpdabbles

[rambling-at-midnight]

Don't Go Disappearing On Me Again

Pairing: Jason Todd x Reader

Summary: Jason's lost too much to lose you, too. (We stan healthy communication in this house)

Word count: 2.3k

Ow.

You've never worked Friday nights before at the restaurant, and you never want to again. And you'd thought Saturday mornings were bad.

But one of your favorite coworkers had called you in a panic early this morning, begging you to take her shift, because her lab group's department at GCU was going out to bowling and it would be a great networking opportunity. You were the last person she called, but everyone else before you had declined because they were either scheduled or determined to avoid the shitshow.

And because you were weak, you gave in and said you would cover her Friday night shift as long as she covered your Friday morning shift.

So you two swapped shifts, and you went into your library internship in the morning instead of the evening. It wasn't a particularly hard job, but end-of-week returns had you dashing all over the three floors, so your feet already hurt before you walked into the restaurant.

Right before coming in, you'd texted Jason that you'd gotten held up, and it was a good thing you did, because you haven't had a single break to look at your phone the whole shift. He likely wasn't even awake yet—last night's patrol had been tough on the both of you, him because he came home half beaten to death, and you because you'd had a heart attack waking up in the middle of the night to your bloody boyfriend passing out on top of you in bed. But you usually got home around six from the library, and it was looking like you wouldn't be back until ten at the earliest, so you wanted to let him know. It was going on hour seven after starting at two p.m., when the restaurant switched from its brunch to dinner menu. Personally, you think two p.m. is obscenely early to eat dinner, but apparently rich people loved eating at weird hours, because you had had nonstop tables the entire night.

But the good thing is that the restaurant closes at nine, so you’re almost there. After your last three tables eat and leave, all you have to do is clean your section, close your checks, and clock out.

In the kitchen, you lean against the fridge, rubbing your hips and knees. You’re a little too young to feel so creaky after seven hours on your feet. After all, Jason works all night, doing athletic feats you could never dream of.

You can't really complain, though. You'd gotten lucky with your tables; they'd all tipped well. Maybe you could even add a little bit to your savings account instead of shoving every paycheck right at your student loans, which just keep growing, no matter how much you pay.

“Oh, no,” says Charlotte, one of the other veteran servers at the restaurant. She’s staring at the camera feed display, which is tuned to a livestream of the restaurant’s entranceway. “Don’t you dare seat me now, Ashley, I swear to God.”

“What time is it?” your head jerks up. “We’re about to close, right? Is someone looking for a table?”

“Yeah,” she says, pointing to the screen. “The hottest man in the world just walked in our front door.”

You just hum, not bothering to look in favor of pulling out your phone. You know for a fact that the hottest man in the world is actually at home in your bed right now. “The kitchen’s stopped receiving tickets. No way Ashley seats someone right now.” The screen doesn't light up when you click the power button. Well, shit. It's dead.

“I can’t tell what he’s saying.” Charlotte squints at the screen. “He’s, like, huge. Does Ashley look a little scared to you?”

You’re out of the kitchen without even looking at the screen. You speedmarch right past your tables, ignoring one man’s halfhearted attempts to flag you down for more ketchup. A righteous fire is boiling in your gut. You’ve been here long enough that the managers won’t fire you for telling off any customers that harass the younger workers that are more scared to stand up for yourself.

Your mouth is already open, ready to spew forth the beginning of your tirade, when you recognize the man in front of Ashley at the host stand.

Dressed in gray sweats and a dark T-shirt, slouching slightly, he looks even worse than when you kissed his forehead goodbye that morning. The bruise on Jason's face has properly colored now, purple and blue along his jawline. His hair looks a little flat, like he's been wearing his helmet, which is strange.

Jason's eyes snap onto you the second you appear, and you falter at the intensity there. Something has happened, but you're not sure what.

"Hey," you say, a little hesitant. "What's up?"

Ashley exhales with relief. "So you do know him."

"Yeah," you say without breaking eye contact with Jason, who's staring at you with the same expression you think a wolf would wear when stalking a hare. "He's my boyfriend."

You expect Jason to tell you that someone was in an accident. Someone's in the hospital. Something terrible happened to your apartment while you were gone.

He says none of those things. Instead, Jason says, "I didn't know you picked up a Friday shift."

Ashley's face goes blank.

"I told you I would be home late."

“No,” he corrects. “You texted me that you were being held up.”

“Yeah, at work.”

“And then you disappeared.” Jason’s jaw clenched. “Did you know that a bank was held up this afternoon? Your bank?”

“Oh, shit,” your hand flies up to cover your mouth. “My phone died, I don’t know when. You couldn’t check my location and see I was here?”

He just shakes his head, stiff and wordless.

“Hey, Y/N.” It’s your manager approaching the host stand now, customer service smile on and eyes taking in Jason’s appearance. “What’s going on up here?”

“Hey, Steve,” you say. “Sorry, this is my boyfriend Jason—Jay, this is my manager, Steve—”

Jason gets the hint and smiles close-lipped, reaching to shake Steve’s hand.

“My phone died so he came to see if I needed a ride home.”

“As soon as your tables leave and your section’s clean, you’re good to go. Oh, and you have to roll silverware.”

“It’ll be at least another hour,” you say apologetically to Jason.

“Okay.” His eyes keep boring into you like he’s trying to send you a telepathic message. He’s mad, you get it, but it makes you a little mad, too. You’re a grown adult. Yeah, the miscommunication was your fault, and it’s fine for him to be worried, but he looks close to Red Hood levels of anger, which is totally unwarranted for this situation. “Is it cool if I wait at the bar for you, then?”

“Of course!” Steve answers for you. "Our bartender, Lacy, will be happy to serve you while you wait." He checks his watch. "Until last call, that is."

"He didn't scare you, did he?" you ask Ashley as soon as Steve leaves. You smile at Jason, trying to tease him, but his expression doesn't twitch. "He looks mean, but I promise he's a big ol' softie."

Jason just grunts, but on his way to the bar, he doesn't forget to drop a kiss to your forehead. It warms you from the inside out.

As soon as he's gone, Ashley blurts out, "What happened to his face?"

"Motorcycle accident," you fib. "Oh, my table's calling me."

You rush over to take care of the poor man's ketchup—he's been waiting almost five whole minutes—and check out another party. The back of your neck prickles as you do. Every time you glance at the bar, Jason's green eyes are locked on your every move. It flusters you so much that when your table leaves, they say thanks, and you respond with, "Good morning!"

"What?"

"Thanks, you too!"

You run back to the kitchen, and everyone immediately starts interrogating you about your 'huge hunky boyfriend' (Charlotte's words, not yours).

By some miracle, all your tables clear out by closing time, and you’re out by 9:20. There are still a couple people at the bar, but Jason’s up immediately to walk out with you, leaving his water glass on the counter.

He doesn’t say anything, though you can feel his eyes on you whenever you aren’t looking. You won’t fight in public, so you follow his lead and stay quiet.

He drove your car to pick you up, and even though he’s obviously mad, he holds the passenger door open for you before getting into the driver’s seat.

The drive home is silent. He parks in the spot for your shared apartment, then immediately, quietly, asks, “Why’d you pick up a shift without telling me?”

"It was super last-minute," you say. He's still facing forward, so you do the same, eyeing his profile out of the corner of your eyes. "Like, it happened this morning. I thought you were sleeping, so I didn't want to blow up your phone with texts. I thought you'd just check my location and see where I was when you woke up."

Jason's hand clenches on the center console. "I woke up and I was terrified."

"I'm sorry—"

"And the bank, and your wording, and your phone was off—"

"I know," you say, putting your hand over his fist. He unclenches immediately to lace his fingers with yours. "I'll make sure I tell you next time."

Jason takes a deep breath in, then lets it out. In a rush, he finally turns to face you and says, "I don't mean to be controlling."

You blink. "I don't think you're being controlling."

"You don't?" Jason frowns. "Then why were you so mad when I walked into your work?"

"Mad? I'm not mad—you're mad at me."

"I'm not mad at you, what are you talking about?"

"You've been glaring this whole time! And you didn't say a word this entire car ride."

"Because I thought you were angry. I wanted to give you space."

"Okay, wait, wait, wait." You hold up a hand. "Let me get this straight. You're not mad at me?"

"No," he says earnestly. "I was worried and scared, but you're an adult. You don't have to ask for permission if you want to pick up a shift at work." He makes a face like the thought disgusts him.

"Okay," you say. "Okay, well if you're not mad at me, I'm not mad at you, either."

"Then why did you look so pissed when I walked in?"

You press your lips together to keep from smiling. "Well, we have cameras that show us up front while we're in the kitchen, right? One of my coworkers was watching and said 'the hottest man in the world' walked in and I didn't look because I thought the hottest guy in the world was still asleep in my bed—"

Jason covers his face with his hands. You can't stop your smile now, and you pull them away so you can look at said handsome face. "And I didn't even look because I'm such a loyal, awesome partner—"

"You are pretty awesome," he agrees, trying to sound serious, but he's grinning like an idiot, too. His cheeks are flushed pink.

"I know I am. But then Charlotte said that the hostess, Ashley, looked a little intimidated by him, so I walked out to see if she needed help."

"Aw," Jason says. He lowers his chin to look at you from underneath his lashes, pretty as a picture. "Were you going to give me a stern talking-to?"

"I can still give you one," you offer.

"Maybe later."

He's still grinning, and you're still grinning, so the both of you are grinning at each other like idiots in the car.

You want to kiss him, and he's your boyfriend. You're allowed to do that whenever the two of you want, so you take Jason by the chin and pull his mouth to yours.

Jason sighs against you, and it's like all the tension in his body melts away. One hand comes up to cradle your jaw, the other on the back of your head.

You break away to murmur, "Are you patrolling tonight?" He's still so beaten up.

"No," he whispers, voice low and gravelly in a way that has butterflies whipping around like a tornado in your stomach.

"Good. Wanna go up and be the hottest patient in the world while I look at your wounds?"

"Only if you're the hottest nurse in the world."

"Oh, but then who will be the hottest chef in the world who makes dinner?"

"The hot chef is on vacation right now," Jason joked. "But I can be a really hot food-orderer. What takeout are you in the mood for?"

"You're the injured one. What do you want?"

"I want whatever you want."

You narrow your eyes in a glare. "Well, I want whatever you want."

"You gotta make a decision," he says, already on his phone. "You're the hottest decision-maker in the world, I'm the hottest food-orderer."

"Chinese?"

"You got it."

Right before he dials the number, you grab him and kiss him again. When you pull back, he chases after your lips. It's so tempting that you give him another firm peck before you pat his chest once.

Jason blinks twice, looking dazed. "What was that for?"

You shrug. "I just wanted to kiss the hottest man in the world."

"Oh, my God." He groans and covers his face again, but you can see his red ears. "You're never gonna let that go?"

"Mmm." You pretend to consider it. "No."

DC taglist:

@evalynanne @mismatchsposts

Forever taglist:

@lemirabitur @annymcervantes @queenmissfit  @iksey @thehyperactiveteen @luxmoonlight @andreasworlsboring101

[redflagshipwriter]

Fast Car Masterpost and Prologue

dead on main fic, intro + four chapters.

Summary: The Red Hood starts off his righteous campaign with a lot of nerve but no legal identification that will let him behind the wheel of a car. Public transportation really doesn't have the panache he needs to start off as a fearsome crime lord, so he needs a driver. He finds Danny Fenton, a grungly college student trying not to be noticed by any government agencies or vigilantes.

to subscribe to this post, on mobile open the notes and click the bell on the upper right hand corner of the post. on desktop, open the notes at the bottom and press the bell on the right edge of the notes.

Links will be added to chapter list as the story posts. Chapter one will go up on July 14th. Updates are approximately every other day.

LINKS/ chapter count

chapter 1 | chapter 2 | chapter 3 | chapter 4

prologue

“No, Habibi,” Talia said calmly into the phone. “I will not falsify you an American non-commercial driver's license for motor vehicles. If you cannot prove yourself to Gotham without American motor vehicle operating permissions, you will never prove yourself. Rise above this challenge.” Talia covered the phone for a second but he could hear her talking to someone else about tile options.

“It's an unnecessary challenge,” Jason argued, doing his level best not to let his tone go up. It was undignified to whine. He was a man now. “The important parts of the challenge are the tactical planning and the skills.”

Talia sounded like she was filing her nails. “Tactically plan to take the bus. Or walk. Walking is free and healthy.” 

Jason made an indignant sound but she mercilessly hung up. The worst! She made the top three of his worst mother figures, easily.

“She's just doing this so I can't go drinking.” He scowled into the air. “I don't even want to!” His voice broke mid whine, which was an insult to add to all the injuries visited upon him by the cruel whims of women who weren't even his legal guardian. He was an adult in most countries!

The worst part was that Talia didn't care about underage drinking. She just didn't want to hear shit about enabling him from Bruce when he eventually figured out that Jason was alive, 19, and in Gotham. His passport claimed he was 21 because it had to for him to travel alone, but she knew damn well no one used their passport as ID in bars. 

He couldn't just go get a license. Jason sulked viciously and threw himself into fixing his plans to accommodate for this. 

He was legally dead and living under a fake name. If he tried to sign up for the driving exam, it'd be too much scrutiny on his paperwork. But he was not taking the bus around as a crime lord. It lacked panache. More importantly, it didn't go where he wanted it to go.

Fine. He didn't need her help. He didn't need anyone's help. He just needed to download Uber. 

That was how Jason wound up wiping a mob lieutenant’s blood off of his hand onto his pants so that he could use the guy's touch screen phone. Victor Woodward's account put in a request for a ride to the Gotham police headquarters. He killed time kicking ass in all the Words with Friends games that Victor had ongoing, which was really gonna surprise anyone who normally played with that boob. Victor’s last ever play was ‘cat,’ for fuck’s sake.

A few minutes later, a skinny teenager pulled up in his clanker and opened the door. Jason put on a smile and hefted his duffle bag a little higher on his shoulder. 

“Hi! Victor?” The guy, Danny, waved his phone at Jason.

“That's me!” Jason lied breezily. “Can I put this in the trunk?” 

“Go for it.” Danny popped the trunk open from inside the car. He watched Jason with his big blue doe eyes.

For an instant, Jason thought that Danny might have seen something. Paranoia reared up. Was there blood visible? Was it easy to tell that the shapes in the bag were heads?”

The moment passed. Danny cleared his throat and whipped his face forwards again. “Normally I say to sit in the backseat, but I'm not sure that's enough room for your legs. Either is fine.” 

Jason got in the car and let satisfaction wash over his body as the weirdly timid kid pulled them out into traffic at a snail’s pace. Whatever. They wouldn’t get stopped for a traffic violation when the driver was cautious.

He’d done it. His debut as the terrifying Red Hood, hunter of the wicked and bane of the Batman, was launched. And he didn’t need a license to do it.

[ethanthealien]

Things That Hurt When You Have Fibromyalgia That Should Not Hurt:

Blood pressure cuffs when doctors take your blood pressure.

A simple poke from someone else, especially on the tender points

Tripping over something - only mildly, not a bad trip. I trip over things and it hurts like a Bitch.

If I accidentally graze my arm or my body against a wall a bit or something, it also hurts like a Bitch. Again, I'm not talking about badly, I'm not being pushed into a wall or something.

Standing. Just for a few seconds. I actually don't know for sure if this is really a part of my fibromyalgia or actually normal for everyone. But it really fucking hurts to stand for even a few seconds.

Walking for even just an hour hurts. And the longer I walk, the worse it hurts.

The simple act of. Cooking. It hurts to hold the pots/pans, especially with one hand. I can't really lift pans/pots because I'm weak, but also it just Hurts. It hurts to mix things in the pots/pans.

(Others can feel free to add on).

Common Descriptions Of Pain When You Have Fibromyalgia:

Feeling like your whole body is bruised, or some parts of your body.

"Feels like I was in a car crash"

Stiffness, throbbing, aching, soreness, tenderness, fatigue. Your body feels exhausted, and not even necessarily that YOU feel tired, but your body feels tired.

"Feels like being stabbed with a knife"

"Like someone has taken a hammer and hammered all over my body"

"Like I'm hungover"

"Like I ran a marathon"

"Like perpetually having the flu", "Like you have a fever constantly"

“It feels like I’ve been carrying two huge buckets of water that I can’t put down.”

"Like I did a full body workout"

(Amongst many other descriptions)

Common Habits I've Developed Throughout My Life As A Result Of Having Fibromyalgia:

Constantly leaning against walls and frequently switching which foot I'm leaning on more.

Asking people if they wanted to sit down, or if they wanted a chair to sit down somewhere, because I thought they were in pain too. Them declining and me thinking "but doesn't it hurt to stand?? You've been standing for like 15 minutes, aren't you in pain??" They are not.

Constantly sitting down, and/or wanting to sit down, wishing I had a place to sit down.

Not really a habit, but I always end up freaking out a bit when I worry that I've hurt someone. I realized that I would constantly apologize to my girlfriend because I thought I hurt her accidentally (very mild things I mean, I'm not saying I fucking punch him or some shit lmfao), only for her to be confused and say that it didn't hurt. It takes conscious effort to remember that what hurts me does not hurt most other people without fibromyalgia or a different chronic pain condition.

I've had fibromyalgia for pretty much my entire life.

I believed that these things were normal for everyone.

I would look at people and watch how they'd do things like simply lifting up a box or the ways people talk about walking for hours just for fun and just not understand why they were doing it because that hurts?

Growing up, when my brother would ""lightly"" punch me, or my dad would poke me, etc., it always hurt really bad, and my brother shamed me (my brother was severely abusive in many ways, yes) and would go "oh my God, please, you're being dramatic, I didn't even punch you/poke you hard at all." I truly don't think he WAS punching me that hard, I just had fibromyalgia so it hurt like twenty times worse (I'm not excusing his behavior, by the way, I'm just explaining that things that would hurt somebody with fibromyalgia wouldn't hurt most other people without it).

I grew up constantly wishing that I could float so that I didn't have to walk or stand.

I was always aware that I had certain spots around my body that felt much more painful than other parts of my body, such as the sides of my arms, my hips, etc. I also just figured this was how it is for everyone.

If you relate to anything this post, I definitely suggest seeing a rheumatologist or a neurologist (I was diagnosed by a rheumatologist) and finding out the cause of your pain.

None of these things are "normal."

[tongue-like-a-razor]

Request for Rooster please :) basically fluff, not sure if you have something like this already but something along the line of y/n being a pilot as well, Rooster falling for them and trying to potentially impress them? Trying to confess before his chance is loss because he sees hangman around y/n time to time but Rooster doesn’t find out (immediately) that hangman and y/n are siblings so Rooster is torn between confessing or not (he does end up confessing)

Ahh thank you for the super cute request! I have a thing for writing sisters, you know ;)

Worst Day Ever

Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Seresin Sister!Reader

CW: Just a lil drabble, nothing fancy. A little cheesy. A bit fluffy. A lot goofy. The star of this show is Nat XD

WC: ~1100

“This is the worst day ever.”

Natasha looks over at Bradley as he moodily packs up his things at the end of the briefing. She grins in amusement. “You sound like a toddler.”

Bradley exhales gloomily and directs his gaze toward the front of the room where you stand, chatting with Bagman. “What does she see in that dirtbag?” he makes a face of disgust.

“I guess she sees his abs.” Natasha shrugs.

Bradley gives her a flat look. “Not you too.”

“What?” she exclaims with a laugh. “I’m not denying that he’s got a shit personality.” She glances over at you and Jake. “But he’s easy on the eyes, what can I say?”

“Maybe I should challenge him to a push up contest,” Bradley muses.

“Dude, we’re in the military.” Natasha shakes her head. “Push ups are not going to impress her.”

“But his abs did the trick?”

Natasha purses her lips. “Have you seen him flex?”

“Maybe you should bag him,” Bradley proposes sourly. Then, he adds, “Actually, that’s not a half bad idea!”

“No,” Natasha responds curtly and starts for the door.

“C’mon, Trace. I will owe you.” Bradley trails after her. “I will pay you.”

Natasha stops just short of the door. “To do what?”

“We’ll invite them to the Hard Deck. You distract Bagman –”

“No,” Natasha repeats, exiting the room.

“I thought you had my back!” Bradley calls after her as the rest of the aviators assigned to the mission start filing out into the hallway.

“Someone leave you hangin’, Rooster?” Jake asks playfully as he walks by.

Bradley flashes an annoyed look in his direction and sees that you’re walking alongside him. He locks eyes with you briefly – for the first time ever – and then glances back at Jake irritably. “Don’t worry, Bagman. That’s still your undisputed domain.”

Jake scoffs while you drop your head to hide a smile.

“Hey Bagman!” Natasha calls from down the hall.

Bradley looks up to see her doubling back.

“You guys want to join us at the Hard Deck tonight?” she asks casually.

Jake raises his eyebrows in surprise, so shocked at the invitation that he doesn’t respond right away.

That’s when you say, “Sure! We’ll be there!”

…

“Drink as much as you want, Phoenix,” Bradley says giddily. “It’s on me.”

“You bet your ass it is,” Natasha says, taking a swig of beer. “I’m going to need it.”

Bradley doesn’t have a chance to laugh because that’s when you and Jake enter the bar.

The two of you make your way over to Bradley and Natasha’s table. Jake is scowling but your smile is bright enough for the both of you.

“Hey!” Bradley says, rising from his seat to greet you.

Jake gives him a dirty look and Bradley squares his shoulders to appear a little taller. Jake might have gotten to you first but that doesn't mean that Bradley can't, at least, try.

“How’s it going?” you say as you take a seat and Bradley could swear they’re the three sweetest words he’s ever heard in his life.

“Great,” he responds, beaming at you like an idiot.

“So good,” Natasha responds absently, downing the remainder of her beer. “I need a refill.”

Jake, who is just about to sit down, rises again with an irritable sigh. “What’re you drinking?” he asks.

Natasha grimaces at him. “I can get my own beer,” she responds, also getting up.

Jake gives her a phony grin. “I guess you’re used to it,” he bites back.

You elbow Jake aggressively in his leg and he nearly loses his balance. “Be nice,” you warn him.

Bradley watches Natasha and Jake head to the bar together, surprised that you’re familiar enough with Jake to physically assault him considering the briefing this morning was only the third time you’ve met. Bradley wonders if maybe you know Jake from before; that would explain your allegiance.

“I’m glad you guys came,” Bradley says to you, not really sure how else to start a conversation with a girl who’s more or less spoken for.

You smile at him. “Yeah, thanks for the invite!”

“Of course,” Bradley responds. He decides not to mention that the entire night was orchestrated just so he could spend time with you.

“Jake’s pretty excited.”

Bradley lifts his eyebrows dubiously and looks over at Jake who’s at the bar with Natasha. “He’s got a weird way of showing it.”

You laugh. “Oh, he’s far too ‘badass’ to show it.”

Bradley snorts and looks back at you with a grin. “I like you,” he says before he can stop himself.

You chuckle slightly and lower you gaze without responding.

“I mean it,” he says.

You shift slightly in your seat and change the subject. “Your low altitude pass yesterday was pretty awesome,” you say.

Bradley grins and straightens his posture proudly. “You saw that?”

“It was hard to miss.” You cringe slightly. “Cyclone was so mad, I'm surprised you didn't hear him yelling from the cockpit.”

Bradley winces. “Yeah, I may have gotten into some trouble. But hey, if it means you noticed me, it was worth it.” He lets out a chuckle.

You smile, your eyes resting on his. "I noticed you," you admit.

Bradley keeps his gaze on you, releasing a guilty sigh. What's he doing flirting with you when Jake has clearly already shown interest? He hangs his head sullenly and says, "Look, I don’t know what you and Bagman have going on –”

“Umm,” you interject, holding up a hand. Bradley looks up at you, already nauseated because he’s fairly certain you’re about to tell him off. Instead, you proceed to say, “You know he’s my brother, right?”

Bradley blinks at you in awe. After several lengthy seconds, he says, “Shut the fuck up.”

You start laughing. “What did you think?”

Bradley drops his face in his hands, embarrassed and relieved in equal measure. “That’s why you like him.”

“Well, I wouldn’t go that far,” you mutter sarcastically.

Bradley nearly chokes. “You’re hilarious,” he says.

You lean into the table toward him. “And you’re cute.”

Bradley stares at you in amazement and then grins sheepishly. “I’m so glad you think so.”

“Alright kids,” Bradley hears Jake’s voice and realizes that he and Natasha have approached the table. “We’re gonna call it a night.”

“What? Already?” Bradley exclaims, looking up at them. He instantly observes that Jake is holding Natasha’s hand. “Oh,” Bradley adds, meeting Natasha’s gaze with an amused grin. “Well, this is turning out to be an alright day.”

Natasha shoots him a threatening look but says not a word.

“Bradshaw,” Jake says, narrowing his eyes as he glances between you and Bradley pointedly. “Keep your hands to yourself.”

Bradley solutes him with a nod and a smirk and then says, “You have yourself a good night, Seresin.”

Rooster Tag List:

The rest of the list will be in the comments.

@rosiahills22

@olliepig

@xoxabs88xox

@callsignvenus

@atarmychick007

@shanimallina87

@wkndwlff

@ijustwantedplums

@Elenavampire21

@SometimesAnAlice

@risingtripletaurus

@desert-fern

@sarcasm-n-insomnia

@graciereads

@pono-pura-vida

@ltfirecracker

@rascallyrascals

@kitty-moonflower-blog

@Melody-death

@bellaireland1981

@justlurkingplsignore

@rhettsluvr

@mandyppp

@eloquentdreamer

@topherwrites

@jessicab1991

@seitmai

@novastories

@stoneyggirl2

@roosterandme

@julielightwood

@primroseluna

@diorrfairy

@fandom-princess-forevermore

@dontletthemtakeyoualive

@schreksdoubledeckerhomechecker

@memoriesat30

@igotmajordaddyissues

@widemiffyhappy

@queerqueenlynn

@hizzielover

@ttokkisbee

@justmymindandstuff

@jrdyn

@callsign-mayhem

@og-baby-ob14

@chewymoustachio

@itsizzythebell

@marvelshoney

@sarcastic-sourwolf

[onlymimiwastaken]

Warrior Penelope stuff cause I've been listening to too many EPIC genderbent covers, and I wanted to give my take on it (also cuz I kinda want to draw it one day)

- Ares as Penelope's patron, absolutely! But Ares didn't have a huge cult in Sparta, although he wasn't hated. So my lore take version thing is that ATHENA wanted to be Penelope's patron (she had already an eye on Ody kinda) but Ares saw his chance, got to it first and became attached to Penelope without wanting to admit it, also because she saw the good and useful in him. Athena still watches over Penelope (especially after her and Ares platonically break up, which she finds really stupid) and is the one who does her best to protect Ithaca while she's gone. She's by Ody's side while he misses his wife and is mostly the reason why the Suitors hadn't taken over yet.

- To get Ares to realize his mistake, Athena tricks him into helping Telemachus defeat Antinous in Little Wolf because free bloodshed, only to end up sensitized by Telemachus because holy shit, my friend's son is here almost dying to this ASSHOLE who thinks he's so much stronger than MY friend the queen and even me like who tf does he think he is. Athena makes Ares fucking rational for once. And maybe even Aphrodite, as well, gets some damn sense in his mind like "they love each other like you and I and my girl is doing her best to get home you're going to apologize rn"

- ctimene holds a claymore double her height with no problems

- penelope is more "cold ruthless" than Odysseus, in a way that she's still poised (until the end or when she's really brought to her knees which is disturbing) while doing merciless stuff. She's emotionless a lot more (just on the surface)

- Ares was the one to give Penelope the idea of going to war instead of Odysseus, for obvious reasons. And Pen is really a mastermind among the Greeks ofc

- Ares and Pen fought in their My Goodbye version because she "held back her power while her friends got devoured" "she didn't even fight Polyphemus, didn't even TRY to kill him" "hid behind her wits to get things done". Because when fighting Polyphemus, she knew that if she tried to kill Polyphemus while he was asleep, they'd be stuck in that cave forever (like in the real Odyssey). And knew that fighting while her friends got killed would slow them down and probably get more people dead. And when they ran away, she didn't go back to kill the Cyclops even if she could've because of yes, mercy, but also because she would've awakened all the other Cyclops and sailing away was faster, better. Ares deemed this cowardice. Crazy thing, since one of the most important things to him is courage.

- Ares overstimates Penelope's power. Like, yes, she's exceptional, but still HUMAN. With her limits. He hasn't dealt with a human personally in years so he doesn't understand this, so his expectations are ridiculously high, which ends up breaking Penelope.

- During 600 strike, Penelope can actually breathe underwater and not hold her breath for such a long time and be fine because she's half naiad (yes, they are fresh water nymphs but still). Also this may make her even stronger around water (to a certain degree, she's still very mortal)

- calypso is pansexual

this is already a lot, ill add more when i think about it lol (also if i realize any of these ideas don't make sense)

[blackenedsnow]

I was the one who made reader have a you her sibling they take care of, just saying, it was so amazing. I love it:D. I have another request. This one was a bit weird and rushed cause like I'm a sleepover with two of my cousins so

Billy Loomis, Bubba Sawyer, Art the Clown, Stu Matcher, Thomas Hewitt, Jason, Michael, Billy Lenz, Pinhead, Tiffany (if you write for her) Charles/Chucky, Bo, Vincent, Lester, Brahms. If you want to add more or get rid of some it's okay. But you can either have it platonic of them being a younger sibling or child (adopted or not) going to a sleepover. Maybe sneaking out to it. They go to find out where they are and find them in a house and they are being loud, laughing, and just being kids

If you don't do platonic (cause I can't remember if you do or don't) then do it romantically and just like the same thing. You can change things if you that helps and sorry about this. But, the request I first made and you did, it was a great and made me smile cause I didn't expect it so thanks for that

slashers reactions to their younger sibling reader sneaking out to a sleepover ; headcanons

WARNING: None

PAIRING: Billy Loomis & Sibling! Reader, Bubba Sawyer & Sibling! Reader, Art the Clown & Sibling! Reader, Stu Macher & Sibling! Reader, Thomas Hewitt & Sibling! Reader, Jason Voorhees & Sibling! Reader, Michael Myers & Sibling! Reader, Billy Lenz & Sibling! Reader, Pinhead & Sibling! Reader, Tiffany Valentine & Sibling! Reader, Charles Lee Ray/Chucky & Sibling! Reader, Bo Sinclair & Sibling! Reader, Vincent Sinclair & Sibling! Reader, Lester Sinclair & Sibling! Reader, Brahms Heelshire & Sibling! Reader

NOTE: Hope you enjoyed this! I could imagine so many of them struggling to hold back but ultimately wanting to let you just be a kid and have fun. Thank you so much for this request; it was a blast to write!

BILLY LOOMIS

You’ve managed to sneak out quietly, thinking Billy won’t notice because he’s engrossed in a movie marathon.

But within half an hour, he realizes you’re gone and his “big sibling” instincts kick in.

He shows up at the house with that intense, unblinking stare that could stop anyone mid-laugh.

Who do you think you are, sneaking out like this?

He’s relieved (and slightly embarrassed) to see you just goofing off with friends.

Pretends to be unimpressed when you’re caught off guard.

He’ll let you stay—for now—

With the most deadpan expression, muttering,

“You could’ve just told me.”

But he’s not about to let you get away with it.

Once you’re back home, he’s the silent-but-deadly type. Just know you’re grounded.

BUBBA SAWYER

Bubba panics the minute he realizes you’re gone, running through the house and making distressed sounds as he searches for you.

He's going to family members and pointing to where your things should be.

The whole family tries to calm him down, but he’s inconsolable until he finds a clue leading him to the sleepover house.

When he tracks you down, he’s so relieved he doesn’t know what to do.

Seeing you safe and having fun brings tears to his eyes.

He’ll probably sit outside the house, just quietly waiting for you to finish.

If you notice him, he might wave shyly or even try to make himself “invisible.”

ART THE CLOWN

Oh, Art knows you’ve snuck out, and he’s amused.

He’s both delighted to have a reason to check in and irritated that you thought you could get away with this.

Appears at the sleepover out of nowhere, scaring the life out of anyone who notices him lurking outside.

Watches silently, only making himself known to you with that twisted grin of his, waving as if to say, “Caught you!”

Doesn't stop you from having fun but does make it clear that he knows—and will remember.

Expect creepy antics as payback when you get home.

STU MACHER

Stu probably wasn’t paying enough attention to notice you sneaking out right away, but once he does..

He's MAD.

Once he finds the house, he’s too tempted not to sneak around and scare the shit out of all of you.

Might throw a pebble at the window to get your attention and then give you a dramatic pout, mouthing,

“How could you leave me out?”

When you get home, he’ll give you a long (and playful) guilt trip about how you left him to "suffer".

THOMAS HEWITT

Notices you’re missing right away.

Thomas doesn’t like you out of his sight, so he feels uneasy, imagining the worst.

He follows you quietly, not wanting to interrupt.

When he spots you through the window, safe and laughing, he stops, taking a deep breath of relief.

Watches you with a slight smile, just relieved to see you having fun.

He’s happy that you’re being a normal kid and knows better than to interrupt that.

Will probably leave you alone and probably won't bring it up, ever.

He would definitely prefer if you let him know though.

JASON VOORHEES

Jason’s heart drops when he notices you’re not in your usual spot, and he’s anxious as he starts tracking you down.

He’s relieved to see you laughing and safe with friends.

Stays outside or hidden, keeping a protective eye.

He doesn’t want to interrupt but also doesn’t want anything sneaking up on you.

Plus, who knows if these kids don't mean any harm?

Might leave little signs outside (like stacked stones) to let you know he was there, just to make sure you’re safe.

MICHAEL MYERS

He’s annoyed.

Why would you leave his protection?

Michael doesn’t even try to blend in; he’s the shadow at the window.

Once you see his white mask peeking in, you know the jig is up.

He won’t cause a scene, but he just stares until you get the message.

When you sneak out to meet him, he’ll give you a tiny “you-know-better” look, but he’s not mad—he just wants you safe.

Doesn’t reveal himself to anyone else, but he’ll stay there the entire time.

When you get home, expect a long, silent stare, reminding you that you’re not as sneaky as you think.

BILLY LENZ

He notices right away.

Billy has a keen eye for your whereabouts, and he’s instantly on the move, tracking you down.

Peers through the window, watching you play with a pout.

He feels oddly betrayed but finds your happiness too endearing to be angry.

He won’t disrupt the fun, but you might catch a glimpse of him outside, holding his hands up in an “I’m watching you” gesture.

When you get home, he’ll tease you nonstop about “abandoning him.”

PINHEAD

This is completely out of the ordinary, and he is both confused and a bit annoyed that you snuck out without informing him.

Appears in his signature, intimidating way, silently observing from outside.

He finds the concept of a “sleepover” curious.

He’s more contemplative about it, watching as if studying some strange new human ritual.

He waits until you’re ready to return and then accompanies you back without a word.

You can expect a very stern lecture when you get home about the importance of communication…

TIFFANY VALENTINE

She realizes quickly that you’re gone and storms out to find you, though her anger’s more worried than anything.

When she spots you through the window, laughing and having fun, her irritation fades into a soft smile.

She won’t interrupt, just stands outside and watches for a bit.

She loves seeing you like this, happy and unbothered.

When you get back, she’ll playfully scold you but then pull you into a hug, reminding you to tell her next time.

CHUCKY (CHARLES LEE RAY)

Chucky’s annoyed at first, muttering to himself,

“What does this kid think they’re doing?”

He’s irritated you’d sneak off, especially without his “permission,” and tracks you down, grumbling the entire way.

When he finds you, he feels an odd mix of pride and annoyance.

He likes your independence but also doesn’t like feeling “left out.”

Gives you a wicked grin through the window, mouthing, “We’re talking later.”

He’ll grumble that “next time, you should let him know,” but he’s proud you managed to sneak out without him noticing.

BO SINCLAIR

Bo is mad and lets you know it.

He’s worried you’re in danger, and when he finds you, he’s that overprotective brother with his arms crossed.

He pulls you aside, lecturing you on safety and probably embarrassing you in front of your friends.

But once he knows you’re okay, he lets up a bit and waits outside for you, a little softer.

At home, he pretends he’s still mad but lets you off the hook pretty easily.

VINCENT SINCLAIR

Vincent’s used to you being close by, so when you’re not there, he’s unnerved and worried.

Tracks you down and watches quietly, almost touched to see you carefree with your friends.

Leaves a little note or sketch somewhere you’ll find it later, a reminder of his presence even when you’re far away.

He’s quiet when you get home, but there’s a warmth to his gaze.

You should him next time..

LESTER SINCLAIR

Lester’s both amused and concerned when he finds you missing.

He tracks you down quickly, not one for letting you go unguarded.

When he finds you through the window, he watches with a fond smile, chuckling at your carefree attitude.

Might knock on the door and make up an excuse to check on you if you notice him, but he’ll mostly just let you have your fun.

Gives you a playful nudge and a “don’t think you’re getting away that easy next time” when you get back.

BRAHMS HEELSHIRE

Brahms does not take this well, feeling abandoned and maybe a bit betrayed.

When he tracks you down, he watches from the shadows, arms crossed, grumpy but protective.

Might stare until you feel his gaze and look over at him, just so you know he found you.

When you return, expect a big fuss, with Brahms grumbling about how much he “suffered” in your absence.

[archangeldyke-all]

@sumilane made this gorgeous art and i wrote a little something for it! i posted it already last night as a reblog but i'm going to make it it's own post so gio can add more art to it!! eeek!!!

men and minors dni

sevika is feeling strangely vulnerable.

it could be the bottle of whiskey the two of you have been sharing this evening. it could be that silco, the one person she knew best in the world, is gone now. it could even be the brat he left behind for her to take care of who's been slowly worming her way into sevika's heart throughout the time spent fixing up her new arm and changing their looks together.

it could just be you, though. the sorta-sad, mostly resigned look in your eye as you lament your relationship woes to sevika.

"i dunno... every time i think i could have something with someone-- not even like, marriage, but y'know-- just someone to share some intimacy with-- something happens and it doesn't work. after a while i just start to think maybe it's not the circumstances that are fucked up 'n maybe it's just me."

"bullshit." sevika spits, shaking her head and quickly refilling her glass with more whiskey. she has to do something with her hands to keep from reaching across the table and shaking your shoulders as she speaks. "y-you're fine. perfect--" she cuts herself off, a furrow in her brow as she glares at her whiskey.

you snort. sevika's adorable when she's tipsy, stumbling over her words and staring into space. fuck. you need to stop rambling about your heartache to the woman you're hopelessly in love with. "i-i'm sorry for dumping this shit on you sev. 's boring and stupid and--"

"no, shut up, it's just--" sevika blinks up at you then curls in on herself in a manner that's almost... shy. she clears her throat and looks away for a moment, almost whispering. "i-i'd marry you."

you blink.

"what?"

"i'm saying you're fuckin' stupid if you think you don't have options." sevika mutters, hunching her shoulders so much she looks small.

you're heart's beating a mile a fucking minute, and you squeak when you bite your tongue to make sure you aren't dreaming. "you said you'd marry me?"

"fuckin'-- obviously only in some hypothetical world where you were into me." sevika shrugs. "but...yeah." she grunts, before reaching out and drowning the whiskey in her glass, muttering a "fuck." under her breath.

you blink a few times, tears spontaneously bubbling up in your vision and a lump forming in your throat. "i was under the impression that i didn't have a shot with you." you whisper.

sevika's eyes fly to yours, wide and shocked. "what the fuck would make you think that?!"

"j-just..." you trail off, gulping again. "you're the most interesting, attractive woman i've ever met, and i am one of about a thousand other fuckin' people in zaun who think so. a-and we've been friends for years and you never said anything..." you trail off as sevika stumbles out of her booth and over to yours, shoving in beside you and cornering you against the wall, clutching your jaw with both of her hands as she stares down at you-- bewildered.

"is this a dream?" she asks.

"i bit my tongue to check-- it's real."

"i-i was serious y'know. i'll take you down to the courthouse tomorrow morning." she says, her voice shaky and sincere.

suddenly, the full reality of the situation hits you, and you burst into laughter. "i-i've been in love with you for years." you admit through giggles. "years!"

sevika starts to giggle too. "m-me too."

"and your fucking haircut is so hot all i've wanted to do for the past two weeks is kiss yo--"

sevika cuts you off with her lips to yours, and you sigh, wrapping your arms around her shoulders.

it's a drunk, sloppy kiss-- years of tension and yearning finally bubbling to the surface as sevika attempts to pin you to the booth.

you have every intention of letting her do just that when she pulls away, grinning down at you.

"you really bit your tongue, didn't you? i can taste the blood in your mouth." she asks.

you nod, clawing at her desprately as you try to get her to kiss you again. sevika grins, swooping in to do just that-- but when she pulls away the second thime with her leps stained with your blood, you gasp. "oh, shit!"

"i tried to tell you." sevika giggles.

"do i need stitches? can you give stitches to a tongue?" you ask.

"this really puts a dent in all my plans." sevika cackles. you snort, and she passes you the bottle. "drink. it'll wash the blood away."

"w-what plans?" you ask as you take a swig.

"the plans i had for your tongue."

you choke, whiskey spraying everywhere as you cackle.

sevika--covered in your spit, blood, and whiskey-- smiles so wide you think her face might crack.

taglist!

@fyeahnix @lavendersgirl @half-of-a-gay @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner

@shimtarofstupidity @chuucanchuucan @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther

@sevikaspillowprincess @emiliabby @sevikasbeloved @hellorai

@glass-apothecary @macaroni676 @artinvain @k3n-dyll @sevsdollette

@ellieslob @xayn-xd @keikuahh @maneskinwh0re @raphaellearp

@iamastar @sevikitty @mascdom @nhaaauyen

@mirconreadzztuff22 @veoomvroom @lushh-s3vik4s @katyawooga @lesbodietcoke

@lavandasz

[impactrueno]

Beetlejuice clearly wasn't interested in Lydia when they met, so when do you think he actually fell for her? Was he so impressed by Lydia defeating him that he developed a little crush?

i think this might be the biggest thing i've been turning around in my head since the sequel dropped. how did bro get to this point. i need to know. you weren't like this where we left off, what happened during that huge time gap????

this is where canon ends and conjecture begins, you just have to theorize and fill in the gaps yourself with whatever makes the most sense to you, which is what i've been trying to do this whole time. so please bear with me here.

i don't know how much i want share or save for my comics because i don't know how much he would actually reveal about this but whatever we ball

edit: ok so i scrolled back up to this after finishing writing this and as it turns out i have no self control and i ended up sharing everything that crossed my mind. craziest stream of consciousness i've ever written down. strap on and keep your limbs inside the ride at all times. whatever. we BALL.

let's review their first encounter from his point of view:

you're hired to scare the deetzes, right? so you do just that. excellently you might add. just when you're about to terrorize their teenage daughter, barbara banishes you and the party is over. what fucking losers right? you get the sense that adam and barbara care about this girl so you make some remark about her and it pisses them off. haha. also whoa where did this place come from? damn adam, who could've guessed he had it in him. you forget about everything else and dance your way to dante's inferno room.

after spending a respectably tasteful evening with those ladies, you're chill now. relaxing under your little sun lamp to work on your tan.

someone walks in looking for adam and barbara. don't they know they're dead?

"are you a ghost too?"

"i'm the ghost with the most, babe."

hold on a sec, who's even—

...well hey. it's the girl.

the girl who can see ghosts, and she's talking to you.

target acquired. this one's your ticket out of this hellhole.

"you look like somebody i can relate to," you tell her. relate how? doesn't matter. you're ensnaring her with your affable demeanor like you always do, make people feel like you're pals with them first and foremost. she seems like a nice girl, so this should be easy. you tell her upfront that you want to get out of there and you need her help to do so.

"i want to get in," she says.

whoa there.

what? she wants to get in? she says that in response to you saying that you wanted out. she really has no idea what it's like on the other side, huh. but shit, that kinda stops you in your tracks a bit. this girl wants to die. this young? that's not right. makes no sense.

"...why?"

she just looks at you and says nothing. jesus. ok maybe it's none of your business so let's back it up. you're losing control of the conversation and you're on a mission here. you figure if she helps you get out, you might as well talk her off that ledge or show her how shitty it is on the other side or somethin'. frankly, you can't afford to care right now. you're not entirely sure why she thinks things would be better on the side you're so desperate to get out of, but alright. doesn't matter, right now you gotta get her to summon you. so you begin your little game of charades.

after she correctly guesses your name and almost says it a third time, she recognizes you as the snake that terrorized her family. god fucking dammit. you're losing her. you're getting impatient. your affable act is over. "nah...i want to talk to barbara," she says and now she's REALLY getting on your nerves because fuck barbara, fuck adam, you're SO CLOSE to getting out and you're not gonna let this go now, go go GO GO SAY IIIIIIITTTTTTT

adam and barbara walk in because of course they do. womp womp

ok well that didn't work, but you're not gonna give up so easily. sooner or later another opportunity will come and soon you will be free.

wait why are they moving the model— where are they taking it—

ooohhhhh. business meeting. get a load of these yuppies, trying to turn winter river into a town-sized Ripley's Believe it or Not. a talking marcel marceau statue? and you thought you were a con man. no wonder the deetz girl wants to die, it's bleak as hell here too. but if you get out...you can fix that. hell, you can fix anything.

these bozos are here to see some ghosts, but the girl says they're not going to show up unless the fleshbags stop making a mockery out of the whole thing and that maybe they can all live happy together in the house. ain't that sweet.

of course no one's taking her seriously. she's a kid, what does she know, right? they'd rather listen to the most obnoxious guy in the room (besides yourself) who has no idea what the fuck he's talking about, but somehow, he's got his hands on the handbook.

the girl panics, then immediately says completely deadpan "wait, what am i even worried about, otho, you can't even change a tire" and you're surprised they didn't hear how hard you cackled at that.

despite all that, they seem to have started a séance with their old wedding clothes. bad news for the maitlands. they're about to be dead-dead. the girl cries for them to stop, and these guys are just sitting there scared shitless. you're hearing everything. you knew a new opportunity would arise, so you wait, because this is the part where people remember how good at your job you are. they always do.

she knows you can help. you're the only one who can help. so here she comes. those wedding clothes give you an idea. plan B is now in motion.

well well well.

look who came crawling back.

she asks for your help, and you're happy to oblige, under one condition of course. after all, you don't do anything for free, and she's the only one who can help you with your problem. how serendipitous.

once again, you lay it on her, straight up. you want out. and a way to do it (thanks adam and barbara for the reminder) is through marriage with a fleshbag. you need to get married. a green card marriage, if you will.

she's immediately disgusted by the idea. you don't take that personally, of course, because it doesn't matter. she's just a kid and it's not a real marriage. she just happens to be unlucky enough to be the only one around who can assist you with this, the poor girl. it's a marriage of convenience—or rather, inconvenience—and you're not planning on sticking around because you will get the hell out of there as soon as you can. so there shouldn't be a problem, right? besides, does she know how many women would kill to be in that position? she gets to brag about it to her friends, what's not to like? it's a totally even deal.

the clock is ticking and the maitlands aren't getting any younger. she agrees to the deal. you win, at last.

she already knows what to do, so you sit there patiently with a shit-eating grin on your face, awaiting the three little B words. gloating.

Beetlejuice........Beetlejuice...........Beetlejuice.

it's showtime.

this is your favorite part. you love a dramatic entrance. you decide to show the deetzes and their greedy friends the circus they so wanted to turn this town into. horrible as you are, you're also pretty damn good at calling out other people's horribleness, and you do love an ironic karmic way of dealing with someone. for example tubby here thinks he can escape, but not before you change his sleek black suit into a tacky white leisure suit. the horror! this is why you're a professional at this.

you effortlessly end the exorcism and the maitlands are saved. a little pruney right now but they'll be fine. everything is taken care of, you have fulfilled your end of the deal like you promised. only one thing left to do.

"shall we?"

there's really no need to make a whole show out of this, but you're a showman first and foremost and as a 𝒥𝓊𝒾𝓁𝓁𝒾𝒶𝓇𝒹 𝒶𝓁𝓊𝓂 you'll be damned if you're not gonna let yourself have a little fun with this. everyone looks terrified. this is why you're a professional at this.

witnesses and reverend in place, you can finally begin the ceremony. you're having fun, yes, but let's try to pick up the pace a bit, okay? the closer you get to your goal, the more impatient you get. the girl isn't finding any of this very funny at all and she protests. the maitlands butt in and are now kind of twisting your arm a bit, but you deal with them harmlessly, until they get on your last nerve so you send adam to the model and barbara to saturn. all of this after you honorably fulfilled your end of the bargain and saved the day. jesus christ, are you the only one with some integrity around here or what.

you forget the stupid ring. shit. you're pretty sure you have it on you somewhere, ever since you chopped up delores into pieces for poisoning you. you kept her ring finger as a trophy and as a reminder to never get married again, and yet here you are, but desperate times call for desperate measures. finally, you find the ring (still on her severed finger) and hastily tell your new bride-to-be that delores meant nothing to you. in case she even cares. she doesn't seem to. not even a chuckle? oh well.

almost done with the ceremony. almost there. you're holding the girl's hand with an iron grip to keep her in place as you're about to put that ring on her finger. "i now pronounce you, man and—"

a tiny car crashes against your foot and it catches on fire. you scream. a fucking sandworm crashes into the room through the ceiling. everyone screams. you scream LOUDER.

you're sent back to the afterlife waiting room.

not your first rodeo with a sandworm, but that doesn't make the experience any less shitty. the real annoying part is being in the waiting room again. this could take ages. you're number 9,998,383,750,000 and they're serving number 3 right now. you trick the guy next to you and steal his ticket (number 4) but he's not too pleased about that, so that didn't work.

a long time sitting here it is, then.

movie ends, credits roll.

for reference, that was 1988. winona ryder was 15 when they were filming in 1987 so while lydia doesn't have a confirmed age, i think we can safely assume that she was the same age as winona at the time.

36 years later, it's 2024. or 34 years later, it's 2022. we don't know the exact year because while bob's in memoriam credits scene says 2024 and all the interviews talk about how 36 years have passed in universe as well, there's this other one tiny detail.

jeremy's death passport says he died on march 11, 1999. jane butterfield says he died "23 years ago," putting the movie in 2022. they did film it in 2022 so the math is mathing correctly there. given that the in memoriam scene was more of a joke and jeremy's passport is a canon prop in the movie, i'd say 2022 is the canon year the movie is set in. (small sidenote; the passport also has the roman numerals DCLXVI which is 666. cute detail i loved it)

in the sequel, beetlejuice says lydia has been ignoring him for 30 years. i always thought that was curious because outside of this claim, they always specify how many years exactly have passed since. he doesn't say 34 or 36, he says 30. and for his degree of obsession (and the fact that he remembers exactly how many times he's watched The Exorcist) i think he would be counting even the days so i think he did really mean 30 years. so this would mean at least 4 years passed between getting sent back to the waiting room and the beginning of his stalking.

AND NOW that we established all that, we are finally getting to the answer to the question, "when and how did this all start?"

so okay, he spent a while in the waiting room. a lot of time to think. probably replaying the events at the deetzes' in his head over and over, how he got here, where he fucked up, what's he gonna do once he gets out. cursing the maitlands for ruining his plan when he was soooo fucking close. wondering what ever happened to lydia deetz.

lydia deetz, the young girl who told him she wanted to die.

...

is she alright?

i don't think he's capable of feeling guilt, but we can probably argue that he's not entirely heartless. what she said about how she wanted to "get in" must've stuck with him from the way he reacted when she dropped that bomb. she never showed up in the waiting room so he knows she didn't follow through with that. still, he used a vulnerable young girl for his own selfish gain. ironically enough, he knows exactly how that feels, because he also got tricked into marriage and got used for someone else's gain. the difference being that he dealt with that shit with an axe.

much much much to think about for mr. juice.

after years of ruminating in that waiting room, he's finally out and back to the regular day to day afterlife. definitely gets chewed out by juno, maybe forced to do community service or labor or what have you, he basically just needs to clean up his act now. this freelancing shit is becoming more trouble than it's worth anyway.

he's still wondering about lydia deetz. should he check in on her? maybe he should, he's too curious now.

at this point, lydia is now about 19-21 and in college. maybe he manages to sneak into the model one time she's back home for the holidays or something. and oh my god would you look at that, what a beautiful young woman she's grown into. she's radiant. she's happy. she's no longer that gloomy suicidal kid he met in the attic. seems like what she said about the deetzes and the maitlands sharing the house did come true after all.

that's nice. very sweet. good to know.

maybe he wonders if she remembers him and tries to get her attention somehow, give her a little scare for old times sake or whatever. for a brief moment it seems like she saw something and her expression changes, but she shrugs it off and continues on chatting with her two sets of parents. no such luck.

oh well. curiosity sated! and beetlejuice goes back home and doesn't return.

until the next time he returns.

and he keeps coming back to check in on her, telling himself he's just making sure that she hasn't killed herself or something. and he's not above admitting that with every year that passes, she keeps getting more beautiful. and to think they almost got married, huh.

he constantly tries to get her to notice him somehow, and sometimes she almost does, but ultimately he never really succeeds beyond making her do a double take. very rarely she does catch a glimpse of him. he's seen her mutter to herself that she's just seeing things and she seems a bit frightened every time this happens, but there's nothing to fear, honey, it's just good ol' beetlejuice. he won't lie, he gets a bit of a rush every time and it makes his dead heart beat faintly. he's gotten this far, he can't just stop now. in his mind, this has become their little private game of cat and mouse, where the mouse ignores the cat. but aren't they cute? he thinks they're cute. this is not creepy at all!

before he realizes, he's already learned everything about her. he knows about richard and even watched their wedding from afar like a loser. he knows she gave birth to a healthy baby girl named astrid. he knows they have a blast on halloween. halloween is lydia's favorite holiday, and his too. sometimes he can't help but see the three of them happy together and think it could've totally been him. even if he and richard are nothing alike (in fact could not be more opposite) and the circumstances of their unholy wedding were nothing short of grim and a farce. but in his mind, he's starting to convince himself otherwise.

maybe it's his jealousy speaking, but lydia doesn't seem to be that happy with richard despite everything. even though richard is like, the perfect guy. then one day his suspicions are proven correct: neither of them knows why it happened, but after having a long and emotional talk (that he watched with a bucket of popcorn) they decide to get a divorce. he pumps his fist, feeling victorious for some reason. sure he's a little sadistic at times, but why is this giving him so much glee?

the divorce is hard on lydia's kid, who was always more attached to her father, but they still spend a lot of time together. sometimes the three of them, since richard and lydia kept things amicable after the divorce. lydia tries to move on and see other people, but each relationship fails before it even starts. mostly because she keeps holding back and so fails to connect with anyone else, but also sometimes because, well, he can't help himself but to scare them away from her from time to time. it's fun. in his mind, he's just being protective of her, as a gentleman should for a lady.

then richard dies. fell into a piranha infested river from the looks of it (he saw him at immigration one day, don't ask what he was doing around there, force of habit after constantly making sure lydia hasn't killed herself yet.) it's devastating for both lydia and astrid, straining their relationship even more for the next few years as they both try to cope with the loss. the shock proves to be too much for lydia, so she goes to a survivors retreat to work through her trauma, both from richard's death and "unresolved feelings."

then lydia, at her most vulnerable, meets rory.

beetlejuice was able to clock him immediately. a textbook manipulative opportunist, he himself knows the tactics very well. swoop in to "help" someone in a vulnerable position, pull the wool over their eyes and begin taking control so you can get what you want out of that person.

he wouldn't admit it, but this really irks beetlejuice. you know when you see someone who reminds you of the worst parts of yourself, so you despise them? yeah. he's been there, and he's also been him.

but rory is somehow even worse than beetlejuice. see, rory is her manager, and boy does he manage to get on his nerves. he takes her phone. he controls what medication she takes. he blames and guilt trips her about every mishap that HE causes, making himself look like her benevolent savior and making her feel like she would be lost without him, confusing her with his psychobabble. on top of all that, he's forcing her to do this hacky show called Ghost House where she "hunts ghosts" or whatever. the houses he's been helping newly-deads with in his day job as a bio-exorcist (now with a fleet of employees,) she's "hunting" those ghosts now. it's so dumb. it never works. beetlejuice doesn't even know what the hell she's doing, she's phoning it in most of the time and she knows she's become a sellout. what happened to that "strange and unusual" girl who stood up for her ghost friends when those suits wanted to profit off of them back in winter river?

he needs to bring that back. he's the only one who can.

in his mind, beetlejuice has already rewritten the events that transpired. in his mind, lydia has been his wife this entire time, it's just, y'know, one of those open long distance relationships and she doesn't always remember him, but that's okay. in his mind, they share a psychic bond that allows her to sense his presence or see him in her dreams from time to time. he's got nothing to be jealous about, because other men can't compare. no one else can match what they have.

sure, part of him knows he's lying to himself a little bit. but he's already clung to this idea; these past 30 years wouldn't make sense otherwise. he's in love with lydia deetz. this isn't insane of him to say at all. and if it is, well, you know what they say, love makes you do batshit crazy things.

it's not that complicated, no matter what they say you'll never meet another me it's not that difficult to get my head around i'll never meet another you

the end

don't trick me into writing a fanfic again

[skk-fan-page]

What does this:

Mean in the context of skk, 15, stormbringer, and dazai acting like a lovesick puppy.

Well, the first thing I notice is that it's heavily implied that dazai didn't say shit and hasn't in his entire employment at the ada. Everyone talks about the mafia with a certain level of "hey I heard about you because my mom's dad's aunt's best friend's knitting club was talking about you and one of the members' dog's coparent said they saw you at Walmart."

Between akutagawa, higuchi, and now chuuya, it's like they know nothing that might help them with the mafia.

Why wouldnt yosano know though, she used to be mafia? Well that's what I thought at first too. I figured maybe rumors had just spread throughout the mafia in her time there.

But, at the same time, add up these numbers and then tell me if the math is mathing for yosano to know anything about chuuya

Chuuya is 22 and joined when he was 15, meaning he joined 7 years ago. 14 years ago (11 when she finally escaped) means not only would she not have met him, he would've been 11 by the time she left.

Not only that, but she was an 11 year old child-doctor, which means she would've had no contacts in the Mafia and no friends to tell her anything.

And, most damning of all, in 15 phase.02 mori says this when asked about suribachi city.

By the time chuuya was awakened, yosano was already out.

So maybe it's kyouka. But here's the thing: she doesn't seem to know shit outside of her (old) job description. She was in such an information silo that she didn't know what a crepe was. That makes her out of the picture for me, especially considering she was the subordinate of the subordinate of the boss's subordinate.

So that leaves 2 options: word on the street, and dazai.

If I can get information on the second highest ring of your underground murder organization by asking around, your organization is getting shit on by the feds in 4 seconds flat.

So that leaves one option: dazai.

But he doesn't seem to be much of a sharer, so why would he share about mafia things? Well we have precedent for it.

There's this incident, proving he's totally chill with sharing about the mafia. And then, there's something so gay it will make you want to claw your eyes out and join the witness protection program to get away from how single you feel

I wish someone would look at me the way dazai looks at chuuya's corruption form. And he's even bragging about him and how cool and powerful he is.

Regardless, this proves that he does totally talk about chuuya when he's not listening, and that he's not the inscrutable clamshell of a man he pretends to be.

Now: the other implication. Chuuya just assumes dazai was talking about him, meaning this was a pattern in the past. We can see this pattern manifest in the party that dazai tries to throw in 15, as well as the fact that ango knows chuuya in dead apple.

How many times do you think dazai genuinely set up challenges for chuuya back in his mafia days, to the point where upon being recognized, his first thought is "dazai did this."

Just put a ring on it already guys.

[star-sim]

"noo! she's taken!" ☆ enha hyungs

☆ non-idol! bf! enhypen hyungs x celebrity! fem! reader ☆summary: you are a very well-loved celebrity, and your relationship is finally revealed to the public. ☆genre: fluff, silly boys ☆warning(s)? ygs liked the maknae ver so here's the hyung ver! maknae ver

heeseung ☆

i think ur a musician here

one of those very personable and insightful ones

giving laufey or mitski yk?

anyways heeseung is THE stan

within your fandom

he's the guy that EVERYONE KNOWS

like ppl will argue who is the best [name] stan and the moment he's brought up they shut their mouths

heeseung does not play around when it comes to stanning you, his gf

somewhat like riki, heeseung runs multiple stan accounts for you

but he's most active and most well-known on 1) youtube and 2) tiktok

all his youtube videos are titled

"[name] concert 11/25/2023 nyc, usa (she looked at me!)"

"[name] concert 11/26/2023 miami, usa"

"[name] concert 11/27/2023 berlin, germany (i touched her hand!)"

"[name] concert 11/28/2023 jakarta, indonesia"

"[name] concert 11/29/2023 melbourne, australia (i met her!)"

like how the fuck is he going to all of these concerts when theyre literal hours apart and OCEANS AWAY

he likes to vlog his concert experiences

and theyre very entertaining because he's like genuinely enjoying himself

on his tiktok he also records his concert experiences

but i also think he posts your fancams and makes edits of you

too many times where an edit of you became known as "that one [name] edit"

he makes a lot of thirst edits of u

too many captions like "i want her so bad" or "she's so fine i need her biblically"

everyone knows who he is, even ppl outside of your fandom or the music scene

hes just that one guy that really likes you

one day ur on tour

its all fine and dandy, ur eating everything up, ur fans are loving it

and heeseung is documenting his concert experience

as he always does

and then it ends and heeseung posts it

however

this concert vlog

is

uh

receiving a lot of attention

TOO MUCH ATTENTION

THAT ITS

VERY

SUSPICIOUS

........

you and hee are just hanging out in your hotel when his phone starts blowing up

and yours too

all the comments on his video are normal, the ones that are expressing playful envy at heeseung's presence at ur concert

and like

it's not like heeseung doesn't get these types of comments

but one comment catches his eye

it has like 50k likes

and hes like oh shit

"at 3:05 heeseung why are you kissing [name]"

kissing.

[name].

he clicks that timestamp

and oh my god

THERES LIKE A CLIP OF HEESEUNG KISSING YOU

you see

when heeseung records your concerts he's recording it both for his fanpage and for the memories

he'll take as many cute couple pictures and videos with you as possible

and he just so happened to accidentally add one of the clips of you and him

kissing.

in fact

he accidentally added A LOT OF CLIPS AND PICTURES of you and him being a couple

ones of you hugging him backstage, ones of you two holding hands, even one where viewers can faintly hear you calling heeseung "babe"

and the other comments

OH LORD THE OTHER COMMENTS

"THAT SHOULD BE ME"

"HEESEUNG MOVE ASIDE!!!!!!!!!"

"i hate seeing people live my dream"

"SHE'S MINE *growls*"

"[NAME] GET BEHIND ME"

obv theyre all half joking half confused, but i think ppl are able to joke w him bc he's such an obnoxious stan 😭

and heeseung is like

poor heeseung is sweating and panicking

bc shit HE JUST EXPOSED UR RELATIONSHIP

but when he tells u

you literally are just like

"okay"

OKAY????

"it's not a big deal"

heeseungs like WHATATATATA

at first he's kinda unsure

bc ur so chill abt it that he's almost afraid that ur actually mad at him 😭

but you legitimately do not care

and when he realizes this

he goes from

😱

to

😈

because

NOW HE CAN FLEX ON EVERYONE

he goes straight to twitter and drops more couple-y pictures of you and him

he probably posts a tiktok that pans over to you on his bed or something

caption like "it's exposed now, but yeah, [name] is actually my gf"

its goes so viral

hes so smug about it too

like whenever he gets into arguments abt who's a better fanpage hes like "I'M LITERALLY A HER BF???"

he becomes an inside joke in ur fandom

i think everyone jokingly flames his ass too

"why did she pick heeseung of all people...."

"pixelated fancam, ass editing, shitty camera, yet [name] still chose him... what did we do wrong"

"[name] wasn't lying in her song when she said she has bad taste in men"

"i can't believe heeseung literally stole my spot... i should be the one that she writes all her love songs about..."

free him 😭😭😭

jay ☆

ooh this one is kinda juicy

ur a musician slay

but sometimes you do modeling

for one of your shoots

you're showing off your midriff and ur just glowing sorry

all ur followers are like

"ughhh step on me [name]"

"i don't think ygs understand i need her"

"[NAME] ONE CHANCE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE"

"i want her."

very quickly goes viral

ur just so hot ughhhhh

but ppl notice something upon closer inspection

you have a tattoo on ur back

at first everyone is like

"okay sexy lady love the tat"

but then

when they look closer

they can't help but see that incorporated into the design

is two

very

specific

letters

J and P

almost like they're someone's initials

🤨🤨🤨

hmmmmm

interesting.....

who is JP?

HMMM???

and now that ppl look at it

you have so many songs and albums that refer to JP

like ur one album

called

"just playing, i love you" but it's commonly abbreviated as "jpily"

JP????? ILY?? JP I LOVE YOU???

WHO THE HELL IS JP

"whoever jp is, he needs to meet me in the parking lot so we can have a talk 😆"

"jp my opp"

"jp kys!!!"

"jp is living my dream"

hehe

you see this

and jay aka mr JP himself sees this

and ur like

yk what let's tease the fans

for the next few months ur just teasing jay's existence

using his intials

like one time you wear a heart necklace that has the letters jp engraved in them

or when you tweeted "i love jp" but followed it up with "Jurassic Park is a wonderful movie 😆"

oh god you make it so obvious

"jp is the reason i make my music" and then following it up with "Jimmy Page is my favoritie guitarist 😛"

like ur fans are tired

and theyre getting outright insane

"guys the winter is getting cold and dire... the voices in my headare telling me that [name] is dating this jp person and i don't know how much longer i can live in denial"

"fuck you jp that should be me!!!"

"i hope jp knows how lucky he is... if a hot woman like [name] tattooed my initials i think i'd die maybe"

"i'm fighting demons (and jp)"

until finally!!!

you go to an award show

you look great as always

ugh queen

and ur getting interviewed

the interviewer asks you a playful question like

"oh are you here with any date?"

AND YOU JUST SMILE

"of course, i'm here with my boyfriend, jay park."

oh man

when that gets posted

EVERYONE IS GOING CRAZY

JAY PARK

JP

AAAAAAAAA

and when the actual award shows gets posted

it keeps panning over to you and jay

and everyone is like

THAT'S HER BF????

all jay can say is that he's prideful duh

everyone wants u but he's the only one that can have you

you definitely take a lot of pictures on the red carpet at the award show

and jay is with u in a lot of them

he's holding ur waist so tightly

like you're not gonna run away cuh it's okay omg 😭😭😭

anyways i think it gets resolved pretty easily

ur fandom accepts jay

but they still joke abt him

and when jay makes a twt account it gets worse

he WILL respond to them

and he WILL flex u

every time he does it shuts down the argument right away.... if he wants to win he just needs to mention ur name

"jay meet me after the concert, we will fight to the death for [name]'s love"

and this mf responds "can i bring [name] to be the ref?"

"jay ur hair looks so fucked up in this picture"

and he responds "yet [name] still picked me and not you"

you have to tell him to stop fighting ur 16 yr old fans HELP

jake ☆

sorry ur a musician again

you have a new song that came out

yk how in some songs

there's almost like an interlude

where there's speaking parts

like in agora hills theres a small part where doja cat says "baby can you call me back, it's so lonely in my mansion" yk?

you have something like that in your newest song

cute!

except it's not just your voice

but a MAN'S voice too

JAKE'S VOICE

the speaking part is very flirty and suggestive

and when it comes out

ppl are like

WHO IS THAT MAN

and then when the music video comes out

theres a male actor that you have many scenes with

now.... the male actor's face is cut out...

but there are still many scenes with you touching him, holding him, kissing him, and vice versa

and when the speaking part comes on

that male actor is supposed to be the male part if that makes sense

that male actor is

drum roll plS

JAKE

when ppl read the credits of the song and music video

they can't help but notice "jake sim"

and when they search ur other songs and mv's

"jake sim" has never showed up...

until this song.....

interesting....

ur fans do a lil detective work

and this jake sim guy doesn't have any involvement in the music or acting industry....

so why is he in ur song AND music video....

hmmmm

they can't find any ig account linked to him

except one that's very obscure

it has a funny username like

"@laylasdad1115" so ppl are like "oh that's probably not even him" and you weren't even following that account so they just let it go

WRONG!!1

@LAYLASDAD1115 IS JAKE

and although you're not following that account on ig

when ppl scroll down to your very very old posts

they see something

very

very

very

miniscule

but

very

very

very

crucial

a post of you and a golden labrador.... and the caption says "i love you layla"

layla... laylasdad1115

and THEN BOOM

NEW SONG COMES OUT

AND AT THE BEGINNING

YOU SAY

"jakey, kiss me!"

OH MY GOD

WHO IS JAKE SIM!!!!!!

"@laylasdad1115 u better watch out...."

"who do you think u are jake sim..."

and then you have a concert

and its not a massive stadium, it's very casual

and there's a part of the concert where you just answer questions that ur fans have and just hang out w them

and someone asks as a joke

"who's jakey in ur song btw?"

and with the most straight face

ur just like

"oh he's my boyfriend!" and then you point to the front row and ur like "he's actually here tonight, say hi baby!"

and jake is so enthusiastic abt it, hes like "hi guys!"

while everyone else in the room is like

WHAT.

the way ygs are so casual abt it is so appalling

"[NAME] YOU CAN'T JUST CASUALLY DROP THAT U HAVE A BF I THOUGHT WE WERE GETTING MARRIED"

"she's taken..... i'm gonna die.... "

LMAAOAOAO

it's known in ur fandom now that ur bf is jake sim or wtv

i don't think anyone even calls him jake

out of pure disrespect (😭) they call him by his instagram username

"laylasdad1115 might be dating [name] but i'm legally bound to her so who's really winning"

when jake shows up to your concerts i do think your fans joke w him like

"ouuu jake ur so lucky [name] is here or i'd give you a black eye"

FREE HIMMMM

sunghoon ☆

three words: your personal bodyguard

you're an actress cutie

and it's award show season

at all of your award shows ppl notice there's this tall brooding figure looming over you

ITS SUNGHOON LMAO

he's like

GLARING AT EVERYONE

HE KEEPS SQUARING UP RANDOM PPL 😭😭😭

ik this might be a crazy crossover but the moment he spots ryan gosling he's so ready to throw fists

"okay barbie boy you look like you want a broken nose"

sunghoon is very protective of you

obv bc the film industry is lowk kinda sus and exploitative, he def watches out for u a lot

everyone kinda just assumes that he's ur scary bodyguard

but then paparazzi pictures come out

and hes with you

in every

single

one

"goddamn her bodyguard is passionate about his job 😭😭😭"

in fact when the annoying invasive paparazzi interviewers come to talk to you sunghoon is sending the the NASTIEST GLARES

but like it's valid bc ur literally walking to Walgreens at 9AM on a tuesday why do you need to be photographed

"hi [name] can we ask you a few questions-"

hoon literally answers for u

"No. 😐."

interviewers are so rude, theyre like "well i didn't ask you, did i... [name] can we ask you-"

sunghoon just blinks and says

"No. 😐😐😐😐😐😐😐." again

and then ygs leave

theres clips of you at the airport where sunghoon is scaring all ur fans, which makes way for you to have a cmfortable flight

i think ur fans appreciate him but theyre lowk scared

"oh god this guy does not play abt his job 😭😭"

until one day

you get playfully asked abt ur bodyguard on an ig live

and ur like "wait what that's not my bodyguard, that's my bf"

UR WHAT????

HUH????

😱😱😱

ur fans are in the trenches

"i cant hate him bc he protects [name].... but damn i wish that was me 😞😞😞"

and when they review some of the clips w you and sunghoon they see you smiling and giggling with him

"he makes her happy so ig i'll let him have her </3"

"this is the hardest sacrifice i have to make"

i lowk think sunghoon doesn't care

he FIGHTS EVERYONE

only for u ofc 😊😊😊

maknae ver

[419jhat]

Eddie's lagging behind his friends at comicon, lazily taking in a particularly cool d20 being sold in the artist alley when he spots her. Seated in a chair, looking bored as fuck while she scrolls on her phone, was the most beautiful Blossom he's ever laid his eyes on. She wasn't wearing the usual outfit. She'd switched it out for something preppy and modern- a pleated pink skirt swishing around her thighs, cute white socks, and a sweater vest that shows off how much she goes to the gym. She looks like she would've called him a freak in high school, but in a sexy way, which is a thought that he doesn't want to reflect on without his therapist present.

"You gonna shoot your shot?" Gareth asks.

Eddie feels like he's been caught.

"I don't know, maybe I will," he says with a shrug.

"She's out of your league, friend. She looks like she'd step on you."

"I know," Eddie sighs.

Gareth looks incredibly unimpressed . "Ugh. Go. Before I leave you standing here like an idiot and she notices you staring. Which you're doing a lot, by the way."

He finishes with a shove right between Eddie's shoulder blades, forcing him to stumble toward Ms. Blossom in a way that catches her attention. And then he has to walk up to her, because he's looking at her and she's looking at him, and neither of them are looking away and it's becoming a whole thing. He walks toward her slowly, because he can't think of what to say, and the way she's playing with her wig is really distracting and cute.

"Uh. Waiting for a Rowdy Ruff Boy?" he jokes awkwardly. Blossom's face morph into pure disgust and Eddie wants to melt into the floor.

"Seriously bro?" she asks with a shockingly deep voice.

Before Eddie can make his brain snap together a response, the other Power Puff Girls are running up to them.

"Steve! I hope you didn't wait long, Chris wanted to get one of those- oh. Hello," Buttercup says, when she notices him. Bubbles' blonde hair is very real, and very cute pulled into pigtails. Buttercup seems to have just dyed hers black for the occasion.

"Hi," Eddie says lamely. He waves at them, for some reason.

Buttercup gasps. "Are you hitting on him? We can leave and come back. Come on, babe," she says, grabbing Buttercup's hand.

"Don't fuck this up!" Bubbles says as she's pulled away.

"Oh my god, ignore them. What did you say?" Steve, apparently, asks. Eddie wants to crawl in a hole and die. He can just feel Gareth laughing behind him.

"It's was a joke. You know, the Rowdy Rough Boys?" Steve doesn't seem to know, so he adds, "the evil boy version of the Power Puff Girls?"

Steve looks down at his clothes as some kind of recognition dawns on his face. "Oh! Shit dude, I haven't seen the show. Rob and her girlfriend just really needed a Blossom."

This is usually the point Eddie would tease Steve about being a poser, but he looks so sincere (and his biceps are so distracting) that his game is totally out of shape. A guy who would don a skirt for his friends? A man after his own heart! He half wants to make up an excuse and leave to save himself from further shame, but he's too enticed by the cute moles on Steve's jaw that he lets himself suffer a little longer.

Steve looks him up and down and asks, "so what are you supposed to be?"

Eddie looks down at his ripped jeans and says, "...me."

He's internally kicking himself for leaving his own outfit in the hotel room.

Steve smiles up at him in a way that shows off his makeup. "Well it's working for you. You know when you first came up to me I thought you were asking me if I wanted to get rough with you."

Eddie laughs awkwardly, cheeks burning, because bombing an interaction this badly is exactly the kind of thing the universe would demand of him. Steve just stares at him. Eddie stares back awkwardly, wondering what he's supposed to even say. He can see Buttercup and Bubbles a few feet away, mouthing something at him combined with a collection of hand gestures he doesn't really understand. Steve sighs. Then he flicks the wig in a way that's kind of flirty and says, "that was an invitation, dude. You gonna take it or sit there and keep staring at my tits?"

And Eddie does take the invitation, thank you very much.

[222col]

Can we get a fic about womanizer Art who's a very famous tennis player and never committed to any woman before even though girls are throwing themselves at him and who doesn't sleep with the same girl twice until he meets y/n ( a maneater) and the sex is something that Art has never experienced before to the point he becomes obsessed with her, she's all what he thinks about and refuses to sleep with another girl and he's determined to make her his no matter what

uhhh yes of course 🧎🏻‍♀️

art donaldson. the man who's only lost two games is entire professional career, he's one of the most, if not the most, successful tennis players in history. he's out most weekends, celebrating another win, another trophy to add to the cabinet. taking a new girl home with him every night, they all fall to his feet like putty. he thinks it's pathetic, but hey, it gets him laid. he's been single during his adult career, too busy fucking random girls and focusing on his tennis to bother committing, not that he would want to anyhow. he never sleeps with the same girl twice, he did that once, some seven years ago. he couldn't stand the way she'd text him constantly afterwards.

he's just won another trophy hitting up the local club with his friends. patrick joins up with him, later in the night. "congrats donaldson, sorry i'm late man, we all bar crawled our way here." art surveys the people patrick has brought with him. you're laughing at something with one of the boys patrick's brought along. "who's that?" art questions, nodding towards you. patrick tells him your name, "she's uh, my buddy's girlfriends, cousin or sister or something, fuck i don't know," patrick laughs into his drink. target acquired, art finishes the vodka soda he's drinking, turning to place the empty cup on the side. your mouth is attached to the guy you were laughing with, your dress hitched up slightly as his hands dart around your waist. "look like he beat you to it, artie," art shakes his head at his friend. "games not over 'til it's over, patrick."

the group of you are shown over to a vip booth, near the back of the club. the guy you were making out with gets up to go to the bathroom, art stands, about to steal his seat next to you when another one of patrick's friends beats him to it. "fuck me," art whispers, slumping back to his place in the booth and backing another vodka soda. the new guy whispers something in your ear, hand on your thigh as you move to make out with him. art should be turned off with how easy you're acting, but honestly he's impressed, the way you have every guy here wrapped around your finger. they're throwing themselves at you the way in which girls do to him, he's intrigued. "game, set, match." patrick laughs to art. "uh uh, no way." art walks straight over to you, pulling the guy off you by his shoulder. "hey! hey- you're art donaldson!" art rolls his eyes. "i'll sign an autograph later, but right now, you're in my seat."

he raises his hands in defeat, moving for art to take his position next to you. "i'd tell you off for interrupting, but he was a shit kisser." you smirk to the blonde in front of you. "well, guess you'll just have to thank me instead." you sip your drink. "i wouldn't go that far, donaldson?" he nods. "art donaldson, and you are?" you introduce yourself. "and who are you that your face alone made that guy run for the hills?" wow, you really don't know him. it's refreshing. "a tennis player." it wasn't the answer you were expecting. "aren't you a bit too pretty to be a tennis player?" art fakes a pout. "i'm so sorry i don't meet your expectations, but hey, at least i know you think i'm pretty." you shrug at him. "it's just a fact. dance with me?" you ask, standing up, holding out your hand. he takes it, of course, joining you on the dance floor. art's not much of a dancer, but that doesn't stop his arm snaking around your waist as you grind against him.

he's whispering in your ear, disgusting, perverted things about the way your body feels against his. art's not shy in situations like this, he thrives, it's his weekly routine. "you gonna keep talking or are you gonna take me home and actually act on what you're telling me, donaldson." he's pulling you out of the club, jumping into the car he has waiting outside. the partition is already rolled up as art climbs on top of you the second the car door is shut. his lips touch yours for the first time tonight and he's intoxicated, your lipstick leaving stains on his skin but he can't get enough. you're reaching between your bodies, palming him through his jeans. "christ, you're like a teenager. all you've done is kiss me and you're already hard." he was hard the second you danced up against him, but that's not the point. "you gonna fucking do something about it then?" he's biting, kissing, sucking his way down your jaw to your neck. "no actually, i think you can grow up and wait until we're at wherever we're going." it's you biting his skin now, his earlobe, his neck, his shoulder. "we're going back to my house, where i can fuck you like the slut you are." you're desperately trying not to give him the satisfaction of hearing you moan yet. the car pulls up to art's place, the door opening as he pulls you into the house.

you're kissing the way through the house as art leads you to his bedroom. pulling your dress over your head as you remove his shirt. "fuuuuck," he whispers as you push him backwards to the bed. undoing his jeans, discarding them across the room with his briefs. you crawl over his body, his hands looping behind you to undo your bra. "you're the hottest woman i've ever seen." he peppers your breasts with kisses before manhandling them. "bet you say that to all the girls you fuck in this bed." your hand reaching down between your bodies again, pumping his newly exposed cock in your hand. he groans as he replies. "i don't actually, you're the sexiest thing i've ever laid my eyes on." you scoff and pump his cock faster. "you're not so bad yourself, donaldson."

he flips you over onto your back, moving down your body, removing your panties with his teeth. "you've even got the prettiest little pussy i've ever seen." he immediately starts tonguing your clit, inserting two fingers into you. your moans are killing him, pre-cum falling out of his cock at the taste of you. he reaches over to his nightstand to pull out a condom. "don't, i'm on the pill." he smiles over to you, "fuck me, art." lining himself up with your entrance, "now, say please." god, the sound that escaped your lips in response could have had art confessing his love to you. "please, fuck, please art," he lifts your legs up, resting them on his shoulders as he slides himself into you. getting drunk of the sounds of you and the way you feel around him. he pushes your legs down closer to you, he's never felt this deep inside someone before. "jesus, you're fucking perfect," he mutters, leaning down to kiss your swollen lips.

he's already getting close, leaning back to thumb your clit as he fucks you quicker than before. "fuck, shit, you feel fucking amazing," your hands grasp the sheets, more profanities leaving your lips. "i'm so fucking close," he whispers, his grip around your ankle tightening. "fuck, come inside me, please, art." fuck. no one's ever let him do that before. in all these years, all these girls, not one as let him come inside of them. a few more thrusts is all it takes for art to finish inside your pussy. it feels like fucking heaven to him. that's it. that's what's been missing. he works your clit until you're a mess beneath his fingers, watching you orgasm as his load drips out of you. "fuck. i need to do that again." he falls down next to you on the bed. "which bit specifically?" you giggle, kissing his shoulder. "all of it. you. coming inside of you." his eyes meet yours. "i wanna see you again." placing kisses on your lips. "not my style, unfortunately for you, donaldson." you start sitting up, his hand grasping your wrist, stopping you in motion. "it wasn't a question."

he gets your number from patrick's friend's girlfriend, turns out you're her friend, not her sister or cousin. she likes art for you, so obliges when he requests your number. blowing up your phone, near enough begging you to see him again. it's been weeks since he saw you, skipping the clubs after matches to sit at home and stalk you on social media. there's just something about you, consuming his thoughts. you never replied further than 'who's this?' to his texts, you make him look pathetic.

i will literally do anything you ask if you just let me take you on a date.

it's late, he's becoming desperate for just a text back from you. throwing his phone across the room after he sends another text. "this is just ridiculous." he mumbles to himself, when a text notification lights up his phone, falling off the bed and running to it, he see's your name.

anything?

fucking finally. he's sat on the floor, smiling into his phone like a little boy texting his crush.

literally anything in the world.

he sends the text back immediately. fuck waiting around to make himself seem less desperate.

would you let me fuck you with a racket?

god, you're disgusting, he fucking loves it.

i would do whatever it takes just to taste you again.

he's staring at the three bubbles on his phone, like his world would shatter if they stopped.

you can take me to dinner tomorrow then.

[lcriedlastnight]

Oscar has been planning on proposing to y/n for a couple of months by now, already bought the ring, tried multiple times to propose to her but every time he felt too scared/ anxious to do it. One time Y/n accidentally finds the ring somewhere in their shared apartment

this is so cute! thanks for the request! ilysmmm. mwah!

tw: fem!reader, swears, scaredy cat oscar, lmk if you want me to add anything.

w/c: 2.2k

the sunlight peered through your window, through the see-through blinds you insisted on buying for yours and oscar's shared room. the way the light hits your resting features makes your man sigh out in bliss. every single morning he has the exact same thoughts when he watched you sleep, 'i need to spend the rest of my life with her'.

it had almost been a eight months since he first had that thought. seven since he acted on it and asked your sister to come with him when he was shopping for a ring. a second opinion does not hurt.

the ring had sat in his drawer for a good few weeks, maybe even a month as oscar contemplated how exactly he wanted to go about proposing. this was one area he was completely clueless for. give him literally anything else and he would be able to rhyme off the answer quicker than he could answer for himself. your favourite food? those cookies with the chocolate inside. your favourite film? the lego batman movie. clothes size? you were a small but in most t-shirts you preferred them in a medium so they were a bit baggier on you. how you would like to be proposed to? no clue. oscar knew deep down that it didn't really matter where he proposed, or even how he did it. he was sure you would say yes in if he proposed halfway through taking a shit. it mattered a whole lot to oscar, he wanted it to be a memory you looked back on with fondness and love.

the first time oscar tried to propose, it was a super traditional and basic way. the boy had booked for you to both head on a cute getaway before the season started back up again in february. you had always talked about wanting to go to greece, so he had booked you both in for two weeks in santorini. oscar carried the ring in his pocket the whole holiday even though he had planned out when he wanted to ask you.

the restaurant you had both just eaten in was probably one of the most expensive buildings you had ever been in. you told oscar so. he laughed in response.

"i think the paddock costs much more than than, love." oscars arm was around your waist as you walked alongside him, you were basically leaning on him at this point too. you snort at his words.

"fine, the most expensive looking building i've ever been in." you reword your sentence. oscar laughs. he swears he has never laughed as much as he had in those two weeks with you. oscar had ended guiding you both up to the top of this hill, you barely even noticed, too busy talking his ear off from the glass of wine you had drank with dinner. you were on holiday, why not?

there was a cute little bench that had fairy lights wrapped around it sitting pretty at the top of the hill, over looking the city and the ocean next to it. oscar encourages you to sit. he knew he had made the right choice to propose here when, a few days after arriving you had told oscar that greece was probably your favourite place in the entire world now.

you sit with your head on your boyfriend's shoulder as you watch the tide from far above. oscar fiddles with the ring in his pocket, nerves beginning to eat away at him. you grow quiet as your eyes twinkle in the moonlight. jesus, you looked like something out of his wildest dreams, oscar was sure of it. your voice breaks the comfortable silence between you both.

"i know this holiday isn't finished yet but i really have had the best time with you osc. i appreciate you doing this for me. you do too much for me, i want to pay you back for it all one day." your voice is a whisper because talking at a normal volume just doesn't feel right in the moment.

oscar's nerves get the best of him as you bare your heart to him. here you were being vulnerable with him and he couldn't even build the courage to ask you to marry him. the driver was so unsure of where the nerves were coming from, he was completely sure you would say yes, he knew you loved him yet his hand slipped out his pocket to move towards your thigh to give it a squeeze. a sweet kiss is pressed to your hair before oscar is whispering back his reply.

"me too, sweet girl. wanna stay here with you, forever." a part of his brain tells him that if he just proposed like he was supposed to then you would be able to do this with him forever and it would be promised. he shakes the thoughts from his head as he tells himself that now wasn't the right time awayways.

you had come back from that holiday, still his girlfriend and your finger still void of a ring.

the second time almost caused him to have a panic attack. this time it was less traditional and more relaxed. it had been almost two months since your trip to greece and the sight of your ring finger being bare sent oscar into a spiral every time he caught a glimpse of where that diamond should be.

you finally had him to yourself after a gruelling triple header. those races had actually given oscar some of the best results of the season so far, but it had taken it's toll on your relationship as you had barely spoken to your emotional support boy. the time zones messing you up, plus the fact that you had way too much school work to finish causing you to be forced (by oscar, himself. it pained him to do it but he knew how important this degree was to you and he was not going to let you throw it away just because you missed him and wanted to watch him drive in circles for an hour and a half for three sundays straight) to stay at home.

oscar was sure you would be waiting for him on the couch in your shared living room, it's your routine at this point. when oscar gets back home, it is the late evening. maybe around dinner time. he hopes you haven't waited on him to eat.

as the australian boy unlocked the door, he looked around the apartment. three weeks without his home comforts (you) had taken its toll on him. it is sort of dark in the hallway leading to the living room, the door to the room laying wide open. oscar can see the back of the couch and the blaring light of the tv. it was bright.

the ring had stayed at the back of his bottom drawer in his bedside table. it was right next to you, right where you slept without him for twenty-one nights without him. oscar was desperate to get his hands on you.

as soon as the threshold was crossed and oscar was in the living room with you, your perfume hit him like a brick wall. the brown eyed boy almost started crying at the smell, he had just missed you that much.

your laying on the couch, asleep. this actually surprised oscar. you were never usually asleep, you were so good at controlling when and where you fell asleep, waking up however... that was a different story altogether.

oscar takes your legs and lifts them up softly to slide in underneath them. he was not going to lay down next to you because he knew for a fact as soon as he fell asleep there would be no waking him up until at least midday tomorrow. you were like that everyday.

oscar admires you for a bit before the urge to propose to you comes creeping back. the desperation of being yours for the rest of his life, reared its ugly head as his eyes follow the swoop of your lashes against your cheeks. he thinks about shaking you awake to do it.

the boy is too deep in thought to realise you've woken up. it's like you can tell when he is in mental distress and you come to save him from himself.

"you're home." you mumble into the air. it is left hanging, not responded to as you sleepily blink yourself awake to finally get a good look at him. he's lovely to look at. as lovely as ever.

"you okay?" you ask him after period of silence that is too loud to bring any comfort.

oscar doubts he is any good for you, so for the second time he chickens out and doesn't propose, although it does send his tired and self conscious mind into a spiral that almost brings on a panic attack. he's quick to assure you he's alright, "just tired after all that flying." is his excuse. you believe him and do not have to try very hard to coax him into bed.

once you both had done your night routines next to each other for the first time in three weeks and oscar was laying practically on top of you, he thought about the ring again. just sitting in his bedside table when it should be on your finger as you brag to everyone you see in the shops that you were getting married to the love of your life. it will happen and oscar will see it, he just has to build the courage, next time for sure.

that had been four months ago. the boy didn't even try to think about attempting to propose to you, it all bearing too heavy still. the longer he took the more he talked himself into the idea of you not wanting to marry him.

so when you find the ring on a tuesday lunch time, it is safe to say oscar is shitting himself. oscar had been laying on his side with his head on your lap on the couch watching some documentary on whether or not the remains some archaeologist had found was really an alien or not. you were listening in as you scrolled through your phone, carding your fingers through his hair. it had popped into the brunette's mind that he had forgotten to order his sisters birthday present, it was sitting in the basket, ready to checkout but you had distracted him by asking him what he would do if you chucked your glass of water in his face. so he asked you to log into his account and get it for him.

"it's asking for your card details, osc. where is it?" you ask, reading out what the phone in your hand was saying. oscar groans at the thought of you leaving him for even a second physically hurting him. "bottom drawer of my bedside, love." oscar mumbles, concentration falling back onto the tv. unknowing he had just told you the location to the item that had been plaguing his mind for the past eight months. the realisation doesn't kick in when he hears your gasp, or when he is rushing through to your room to check in and make sure you are okay. it only hits when he sees you sitting on the floor in front of the piece of furniture, turning around to face him with tears in your eyes and a ring in your hand.

"is this what i think it is?" you ask him, voice shaking. oscar really is dumb because he cannot work out his you are crying with happiness or out of sadness. although he is quick to sit beside you, hands reaching for the ring but you pull it back out of his grasp, waiting for the answer.

"yeah," oscar sighs. "i've tried to propose to you twice now but every time i get too scared and don't. i've been trying to for eight months". oscar gets even more worried than he originally was when he sees your frown. there was no way he had just fucked this up with you.

"i could've been engaged to you for eight months?" you ask, you seem genuinely disappointed by this fact and that is what snapped everything into place in his brain. you wanted to be engaged to him. oscar jumps forward to wrap you into a bone crushing hug that makes your heart skip beats.

"i will marry you oscar." you tell him.

"i'm so sorry i chickened out, i don't know what was wrong with me. i could've been almost married to the most perfect girl in the world. my most perfect girl." oscar murmurs his apology into your hair but you had already forgiven him. way back before he had even apologised.

the light still beams into the room, oscar thinks about buying black-out curtains until he sees the way the morning light hits your eyes just after you have just opened them. although they close again much too quickly for oscars liking.

it is like you can feel oscar's stare because you grab his arm, pulling him closer to you.

"love you osc." you mumble into the pillow. eyes drooping again as your face relaxes. oscar presses a kiss to the side of your head as he whispers "love you even more, pretty.".